Chapter 43: Open Marriage (Kind Of)

"Ummmmm…. ahhhhh…"

I moan, trying to act like I'm enjoying myself as Finnick Odair rolls me onto my back while we kiss. I feel him settle on top of me and grind up against my thigh.

It's summer now, and I am in the middle of mentoring the 77th Annual Hunger Games. I am also nearly six months pregnant, so navigating around a bed is getting harder, especially with the line of work I, as a Victor, do by night.

Finnick sinks his admittedly gorgeous member into my vagina and begins thrusting at an ever-increasing pace. His hands seize my hips so we can steady ourselves.

"Oh… OH…. Finnick!" I warble. "Go, faster, harder….." Though the sex does sometimes feel nice, I have taken to sticking to a script of phrasing while making love. Keep up the act, you know?

"Grrrrr!" Finnick drops onto my pregnant belly as he ejaculates deep within me.

"Hey, brainless! Come over here! It's my turn."

I nudge Finnick off of me so I am now in the middle, and I crawl over to Johanna Mason. We kiss, her tongue slipping into my mouth with ease. My hands palm her breasts - tinier than mine, I observe with some satisfaction - while I grind my vagina against her own to get her wet.

At last, Johanna flips me flat onto my back and straddles my knees. Her face disappears between my folds and I feel her lips, her tongue, gnaw at my cunt. My jaw goes slack.

"Oh my God… OH MY GOD!" I smash her face in between my hands to keep her there and begin to buck unapologetically into her mouth.

"Hmmmmmm…." Johanna purrs, and her sensual sounds knock me over the edge.

"Ahhhhh!" I scream, blasting my juices all over her face. Johanna licks the deluge of fluid off her face calmly before kissing me one last time, so I can taste myself. When we break apart, her lips hover over my ear.

"That was for being a naughty girl and killing my tribute last year."

I whimper and nod. Somehow, I suspected Johanna was that kind of lover. Not overtly angry, just….. controlling.

"Ohhhhh!" Finnick moans as he cums again, having masturbated furiously to two gorgeous women having sex with each other.

We look as one to our patron, who nods, a pleased smile telling us we have done our jobs. He leaves us alone to change and we scramble out of bed to grab our clothes.

I feel the prick of salt, not from cum, but from tears, at my eyes and try to keep it at bay. In the three months of doing this…. prostitution, the guilt and shame has gotten easier. But it's never gone completely away.

Unfortunately, my rare emotional vulnerability has not gone unnoticed by Finnick. In getting to know him, I have come to realize he has a much more sensitive side about him in private.

"Katniss," he tells me gently. "You don't have to be embarrassed about doing this while you're still pregnant. Has Peeta ever told you that you glow during pregnant sex?"

I give him a watery smile. "He told me I glowed once, while I was carrying Riley."

Finnick smiles. "There. You see? There is no shame in how you look. Why,…." He pauses. "I have someone who I love just as much as Peeta loves you. And I can only hope that when we get pregnant, she will glow as much as you do during love-making."

I pat his hand. "Thank you, Finnick."

"Well, if you two don't mind, I'm going to let myself out," Johanna sighs. "I'm still on the clock."

I stare. "You have another appointment?"

She smirks. "Back-to-back threesomes are the worst, aren't they?"

I wouldn't know. Thankfully, I have not been booked in such high demand, yet. "Who with?"

"Cashmere Ritchson-Schlund. Oh, and your hubby."

I sigh. "Don't do anything with him that I wouldn't do," I tell her.

Johanna chuckles. "Sure thing." And she's gone.

Peeta's POV

It's nice to not have to start right away. One person late to a threesome allows you to collect your bearings.

I turn back to Cashmere Ritchson-Schlund. "Who's our missing third?"

She glances up from doing her nails. "Johanna."

Oh, good. She's one of the few Victors whose sex is actually bearable. I've always liked hanging out with the axe-grinder from District Seven.

Johanna bursts into the room, slamming the door. "Your wife's cunt tastes heavenly. Have you noticed?"

"Yes, I have, but I didn't exactly need you to tell me that," I deadpan as seriously as I can. It doesn't land; the smirk still crosses my face.

"Whatever." She rolls her eyes and turns away from me. "Unzip?"

I grin good-naturedly and reach for the zipper. By now, this is routine for Johanna and me. As soon as she and I are both naked, she faces me. There's the classic smirk.

"Come here, Lover Boy." When I cheekily don't respond right away, she simply pulls me to her by my dick and kisses me lovingly. I smirk, but kiss back. Johanna rubs me fast and hard, readying me for her and whatever is to come. As soon as I have expanded in her hand to her satisfaction, she shoves me back onto the bed and bestrides my calves.

"Cashmere, honey," she calls. "We're ready for you." I feel the mattress sink a little lower as Cashmere curls into my side.

"Now, my little baker," Johanna hums. "You ever been given a blow job?"

"Only…. by Katniss….." I gasp out. "Our first time together."

"Oooh! Naughty, naughty!" Johanna grins wickedly. "Well, it's about time your dick tasted another woman's…. flavor." With that, she takes me in her mouth. The sight of her lips sealing over my penis's flesh nearly drives me mad.

"Ohhhhhhhh…. Jesus God, Johanna!" I whine. Johanna's lips form a smirk around my shaft. She nods to Cashmere in a way that's almost comical, what with her head bobbing up and down my length.

Cashmere takes my hands in hers. "Time for you to play some." And she guides my palms to her breasts, letting me knead them. Her face dips close to mine. "Kiss me," she whispers. I raise my head ever so slightly to press my lips to hers.

Soon, I keep one hand on Cashmere's breasts while the other fiddles with her vagina. Her hips roll into mine and she lets out an otherworldly "Ohhhhh… Peeta….."

Her juices cascade out of her folds, soaking my hand. Next second, I am flooding Johanna's mouth with my own cum and she greedily chugs it all down.

I lick my fingers clean of Cashmere's remnants as Johanna extracts herself from me. Over on the far couch, our patron applauds.

"That's the way to do it. Very professional. You can show yourselves out." Once he's gone, the girls and I climb out of bed and help each other dress.

"So," Johanna asks as if our rendezvous didn't happen. "How's Riley?"

I frown as I do her zipper. "Probably off to bed soon. Effie will get her down on time."

"How do you know?" Cashmere asks, adjusting the garter underneath her dress.

"Because when I tried get Haymitch to do it, he fell asleep, not her."

Johanna bursts out laughing. "Old Abernathy would do that!" She turns to face me and adjusts my black tie. "Come on. One last fancy dinner for the President and then maybe we can finally chill for once."

"Let's hope," I answer grimly. "The Games' finale will probably be tomorrow."

At the party, Katniss, Johanna, Finnick and I all hang out together. By now, I think my wife and I have been accepted into the Victor's circle. Many others will come up to us, men like Cato and Brutus shaking my hand, while the women like Seeder and Cashmere gush over Katniss's figure and ask about the impending arrival of Baby Mellark.

I am glad to be with my love and our friends when the President suddenly approaches.

"Mr. Odair, Ms. Mason, Mr. and Mrs. Mellark," he drolls. "Pleasure seeing you all here tonight."

"And you, Mr. President," I answer as politely as I can muster.

"And how have your…. activities been going during the Games?"

I shrug and give a smile. "Well, you know, it's like an open marriage, Mr. President. We sleep around, but Katniss and I always come back to each other. We make it work."

Something dark and dangerous flashes in the President's eyes. "Glad to hear it," but his voice is strangely curt. "Good evening to you all." He whisks himself away abruptly.

I look to the others; they clearly saw what I saw. "What's the matter? Doesn't the old man have a sense of humor?"

Finnick lets loose a mad chuckle and shakes his head. "Peeta. Asking if Snow has a sense of humor is like asking if the Games will ever end. The answer to both is No. The President wants to break you with this whoring thing. The fact that you are able to make a joke out of it means you're not playing his game. But hey, we all have our own ways of coping, so, whatever floats your boat."

I nod and turn my gaze back to where the President disappeared. Have I overplayed my hand? Borne my soul in a way that shows I am more than just a piece in Snow's Games?

I don't know. I just don't know…..

A/N: OK. Now, we are ready for a time jump and a new perspective that isn't Katniss or Peeta. Guess who…..

REVIEW! Please.