Lost Bird

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Lost Bird Page 15

by Tymber Dalton


  Mandaline stepped into the center of the circle and raised one hand to call for quiet, the other still behind her back.

  “We’ve all gone through a lot of changes the past several weeks,” Mandaline said. “Some, unfortunately, tragic. Some positive. And some simply were. Unfortunately, there are those in our midst who are resistant to change.” Mandaline focused the force of her brown gaze squarely on Sachi, who felt supernova heat bubble up into her cheeks.

  “It is time, therefore,” Mandaline continued, “to once again call out to that great deity we’ve previously invoked.”

  She produced the large, pink jelly dildo with the suction cup base, licked the base, and stuck it on one of the tables with a plop where, much as it had when Sachi first produced it several covens ago, it slowly wiggled and waved back and forth at everyone with slightly obscene undulations.

  “Hail, Dildous!” Mandaline chanted as she raised her hands to the ceiling.

  The room exploded in laughter as Sachi crossed her arms over her chest, one hand covering her eyes. She let out a low groan.

  I. Am going. To fucking. Kill her.

  Everyone else chanted, “Hail, Dildous!”

  I should have known that thing would come back to haunt me.

  Mandaline was on a roll and building up steam. “Once again, tonight we offer up chants to the great god Dildous, for guidance in love and lust, and for hopefully getting those who desire it laid as often and well as they wish it. Hail, Dildous!”

  The group, still laughing, attempted to respond with, “Hail, Dildous!” A few people had laughed so hard they were now coughing.

  Sachi peeked through her fingers. Both Oscar and John were grinning and laughing with everyone else.

  Greeeat.

  “Oh great and mighty Dildous,” Mandaline continued, slowly walking her way around the circle, “we ask for help. We ask for love. We ask for healing. We ask for orgasms! Please, rain your celestial vibrations down upon us. OmmmMMMMM!”

  The group, the ones who weren’t laughing or choking over laughing, picked up the humming. “OmmMMMM!”

  Sachi dropped her hands and forced a smile, glaring at Mandaline until her friend stopped right in front of her.

  “Nice,” Sachi whispered. “Thanks.”

  Mandaline simply shrugged, the smile still on her face and hands in the air, as she turned to the rest of the group. She sliced her hands down, indicating silence.

  “Oh great and mighty Dildous, god of the mighty O, we beseech you this night to grace us with your generous presence. So mote it be!”

  A chorus of, “So mote it be!” resounded through the room, the participants erupting into applause and hoots of approval.

  Mandaline stepped into the center of the group and curtsied to them, her peasant skirt sweeping the floor as she did. Then she motioned for silence again. “And now, I pass along the primordial scepter to its next caretaker.”

  She went to yank the dildo off the table, but the suction cup base wouldn’t let go and she nearly pulled the table over. More laughter ensued as she wrestled with it, finally using her fingers to peel the suction cup base off the smooth surface. Before Sachi could turn and run, Mandaline had grabbed her arm and slapped the pink jelly dildo into her palm, closing her fingers around it.

  “Enjoy it in good health,” Mandaline softly teased as more people laughed and cheered.

  “It’s still unused, I hope,” she snarked.

  “Yep. I had to wash the dust off it this afternoon.”

  “Well thanks for that. I guess.”

  Mandaline made the rounds of the room, visiting with people, while John and Oscar stared at the dildo.

  “Is that a hint?” Oscar asked.

  Sachi started to shake it at them, realized how plain wrong that seemed, and transferred it to her other hand, which she hid behind her back. “She’s just giving me payback from a few weeks ago when I pulled this stunt on her.”

  “Ah,” John said. “I thought maybe she was giving her seal of approval.”

  “Same thing. I’ll be right back.” She quickly wove her way through the crowd and dumped the dildo onto the shelf under the cash register, where Anna was taking her turn manning the till tonight.

  Anna bumped hips with her. “Payback’s a witch.”

  “Yeah,” Sachi grumbled. “I’m gonna get that witch, all right.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sachi had a duh moment a few minutes before they were to call for the closing circle outside that would end the evening.

  “You know, we don’t have to go home when this is done,” she told John and Oscar. “The apartment upstairs is vacant tonight. We can go up and, you know, hang out. Watch TV. Whatever.”

  Both men eagerly nodded. “We’d like that,” John said.

  “We can spend time together without keeping Aunt Tammy awake,” Oscar said.

  “Or my dad,” Sachi added. Although, he’d had plans that night with coworkers and said he wasn’t sure what time he’d get home.

  Not that she would have minded having her own house all to themselves, but it might have been a little awkward if he’d walked in on them in the living room—or overheard them in the bedroom. And she didn’t want to spend the entire night nervous that he might do just that.

  Once they conducted their final circle and ended the evening, everyone hugged and the cleanup began. Twenty minutes later, it was just Mandaline, Brad, Ellis, Sachi, John, and Oscar.

  They’d moved Damiago and Pers to the house earlier that afternoon. As Brad and Ellis bid them good night and headed to the car, Mandaline leaned in and hugged Sachi.

  “Have fun,” she whispered in Sachi’s ear before stepping out the back door and offering a last wave good night.

  Sachi locked the back door behind Mandaline and waged a nuclear-class war within herself between leery and longing, desire and dread, anxiety and anticipation.

  Then she turned and stared down the hallway. John and Oscar stood there, looking as anxious as she felt. Even their auras flickered as a reflection of their nervous state.

  They didn’t want to do anything to hurt her, mentally, physically, or emotionally, of that she was certain.

  Her clit kicked fear in the nuts and sent it packing as she walked toward them, determined, for once in her life, to take charge of her destiny without letting fear make the final call.

  She took their hands and held them pressed against her chest, so they could feel her racing heartbeat. “I’m nervous, too,” she managed.

  Immediately, their expressions softened, their auras calming. John and Oscar both gently squeezed her hands.

  “If you’re not comfortable with this,” John said, “it’s okay. We don’t have to do anything tonight. If all you want to do is sit on the couch and watch TV, we’re good with that. Really.”

  Oscar nodded. “We just want to spend time with you, alone.”

  The thing was, she didn’t want to just sit on the couch and watch TV. She wasn’t exactly the most experienced in terms of sex, considering Tom had been her only lover, but he had been gentle, kind, and pretty damn good as far as she knew.

  She also knew sex was supposed to be fun, happy.

  She wanted that in her life. Fun and happiness.

  Needed it.

  And here it stood, well within her easy grasp.

  “I want to go upstairs,” she said, forcing herself to speak up so they could hear her, “but I don’t want to watch TV.”

  The men nodded.

  She turned off the lights downstairs and then led the way to the stairwell.

  Only once they were up in the bedroom did Sachi mentally connect the dots as to why Mandaline had been so insistent on doing laundry that afternoon and changing the sheets on the king-size bed.

  Damn tricky witch.

  How she loved that woman.

  She turned on the TV and set the cable box to a light jazz music channel to provide background noise and light after she turned off the overhead one.

>   “Um,” Oscar said, “I don’t have…um…” He looked uncomfortable and stared at John.

  “Oh. Um, neither do I. Sorry.”

  Sachi didn’t need to read minds to follow their thoughts. “Damn. Wait.” She went to the bedside table closest to the door and opened the drawer.

  There, under a sticky note with a smiley face and the words You’re Welcome! in Mandaline’s handwriting, was a large box of condoms. Next to it, a brand new bottle of lube, still in its box.

  I’ll thank her tomorrow. She turned and held them up. “Score!”

  She set them on the table and kicked off her shoes, her bravado fading as reality set in. “I promise I’ll try not to devolve into a crying hot mess,” she softly said.

  Both men reached out to her, cradling her between them. Behind her, John wrapped his arms around her waist while Oscar clutched her hands in his and kissed her fingers.

  “We don’t have to do this tonight if you aren’t ready,” John assured her again.

  “But if I give myself that out, I might never be ready. I don’t want to live my life in fear anymore.”

  Oscar kissed her on the forehead, so sweet and tenderly that nearly drove her to tears. “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  She stared up into his blue eyes, feeling like she was falling, praying they caught her.

  Praying they didn’t drop her or fumble the ball or whatever that football term was.

  Please don’t let this be a mistake.

  They didn’t paw at her, didn’t feel her up. They simply stood there with her, holding her, their blue auras enveloping her, mixing and merging and flowing around and through her.

  She tipped her head back and reached up with one hand to tangle her fingers in Oscar’s hair. She coaxed his head down, her lips meeting with his in an explosive kiss that stole her breath from its sweetness.

  It wasn’t until she parted her lips, her tongue flicking out and tracing the seam of his, that he finally deepened their kiss, a soft moan escaping him as she felt his cock harden against her through their clothes.

  Thisss.

  Oh, yes, absolutely this was what she wanted. Her fingers curled, tightening her grip on him, digging into his scalp and holding him there, waiting until he finally grew confident and took over from her.

  His other hand slipped around her hip, below John’s arms and pressing against the small of her back, holding her body tightly against his.

  Behind her, John’s lips feathered against the side of her neck, his breath hot and quick and sending pleasant shivers down her spine that seemed to coalesce in the neighborhood of her clit.

  And still, they took their time, waiting on her, happy to go at her pace.

  She cradled Oscar’s cheek with her hand and looked him in the eye. “Please, do this,” she whispered. “I’ll say stop if I’m not okay. I…” She tried to figure out how to make it sound even reasonably cogent. “I trust you guys. But I need you to…” She realized she didn’t have a good way of saying it that wouldn’t make it sound like slams against their manhood.

  And considering John now had a decent-size bulge jamming against her ass through his clothes, she wasn’t about to slam either of their manhoods, literally or metaphorically.

  “Take over,” she whispered. “Please?”

  “We don’t want to hurt you,” John said.

  She tipped her head back enough she could look him in the eyes. “I know, and that’s why I’m asking you to take over. Because I know if I need you to stop, you will. This is me trusting you guys. If I can’t trust you here, I don’t know where I’d be able to trust you.”

  Oscar let go of her other hand. This time, he slipped his fingers of that hand up the nape of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss.

  She wanted them to take over? Apparently, she was going to get it. The explosive kiss made her clit throb even more, his tongue gently sliding between her lips, flicking along hers as he rocked his hips against her.

  John’s kisses along her neck turned into gentle nips that made her moan.

  Suddenly, the thought came to her that Tom might have been a sweet, gentle lover, but these two guys were going to rock her socks right the hell off her body and into the next life.

  Oh, boy.

  John’s hands traveled up, cupping her breasts and rubbing the pads of his thumbs over her nipples through her shirt and bra. That only added fuel to her pulse, which now raced out of control.

  “Like this?” John asked, his voice sounding deep and throaty. He, too, now rocked his hips against her ass, the feel of his stiff cock rubbing against her. Neither was, thankfully, as huge as Dildous, but both appeared more than adequately endowed.

  She couldn’t speak with Oscar’s tongue in her mouth, but she wiggled her hips a little, drawing moans from both men.

  Oscar broke their kiss, his forehead pressed against hers as he caught his breath. “Sweetheart, we’re going to take our time and love the pain away. We promise we’ll never give you a reason to not trust us.”

  A prickle of tears threatened and she willed them away. She didn’t want to start crying now, happy tears or not, and have the men stop.

  Goddess, she did not want them to stop! Not when it felt like her panties were thoroughly soaked through already, and they hadn’t really done anything yet.

  And throughout all of this, their blue auras swirled and flowed around and through her, only adding to the energy coursing through her veins. This felt right, more right than anything she’d ever felt before.

  All signs point to yesss…

  She tried to stifle the snicker that wanted to bubble up.

  They turned her in their arms and then it was John kissing her, his technique different in a good way, and equally as sexy and exciting. Oscar slid his hands under the hem of her shirt. Up, up, finding and sliding her bra out of the way, his warm hands cupping her breasts and making her moan again.

  “Yes, just like that,” Oscar whispered. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

  “Mm hmm!” She could only mumble, this time John’s tongue taking away her ability to talk.

  Not that she was complaining.

  Not in the slightest.

  Somewhere along the line, Oscar got both her shirt and bra off her, leaving her there in her skirt and panties. The feel of their shirts against her bare flesh excited her, thrilled her.

  Still, they kissed her, taking their time and their turns pressing their lips against hers, the other feathering their lips over her flesh, her shoulders and back and breasts, lips nipping and teasing her nipples into hard, aching peaks.

  John finally lost his shirt at some point, followed by Oscar. The feel of their warm flesh against hers was even better, warm and right and everything she’d hoped it might be.

  She reached down with both hands, pressing her palms flat against the fronts of their pants. Both men groaned as her fingers molded around the shapes of their erections.

  Oscar gently cupped her chin in his hand. “You keep that up, you know where those are going, right?”

  She smiled. “I sure hope so.”

  He smiled back, the effect totally devastating. She wanted to keep making him smile like that, both of them, different and sexier and happier than she’d seen either of them look in the short time she’d known them.

  Reaching to her waist, she shoved her skirt and panties down to the floor and stepped out of them. “Gentlemen.” She walked over to the bed and started pulling the covers down while she heard them frantically trying to get out of their shoes and pants and underwear behind her.

  She sat on the bed, facing them, smiling as she watched them undressing. They looked as frantic as she felt.

  She found them insanely adorable.

  Once they got naked without hitting the floor in the process, they flanked her on the edge of the bed. Even in the dim light from the TV she could see they sported rigid erections.

  Another wave of nerves wanted to sweep through, to tell h
er this was a bad idea to get involved with not one but two guys after barely knowing them a few weeks.

  She gave the thought a boot in the ass and kicked it out of her brain. She wanted this, dammit. Wanted to stop being afraid. Wanted to stop being alone.

  Together, they lay back on the bed. John stroked her cheek. “You’re so beautiful. I knew I felt something for you that day when I came to fix your water heater.”

  “Sorry I botched our bakery meeting,” Oscar said.

  She turned to look at him. “No apologies. We’re where we need to be right now. Doesn’t matter how we got here.”

  John gently turned her head again and kissed her while Oscar began working his way down her body with his mouth. Over her breasts, taking his time as he flicked first one nipple, then the other with his tongue, lower, lower.

  She started to curse the fact that she’d only trimmed the carpet instead of shaving, then realized if they really loved her, it wouldn’t matter to them.

  I can shave the wookie later.

  It apparently didn’t matter to Oscar, at least. His hand preceded his lips, drifting to rest between her legs, pausing apparently to judge her reaction before his fingers gently slipped between her labia and found her clit.

  OMGOMGOMG! Fear and desire struck up a tornado of discord inside her until she took matters into her own hand. She reached down, grabbed a handful of his fine, straight brown hair, and shoved his head lower.

  He chuckled. “Someone’s pushy.” But it was just the push he needed, apparently. He drew a long, low moan from her as he slipped one finger inside her soaked pussy and used his other hand to spread her folds open so he could nuzzle at her clit with his lips.

  And once he started, he didn’t stop.

  Any remaining reservations that might have even considered breaking through her brain shattered into a thousand tiny pieces as it felt like lava flowed through her veins.

  Oh, yes, this!

  Had she really forgotten how great oral sex felt? Apparently so, or Oscar was even better at it than Tom had been, because damn, this felt good.

  Not just good—goooood.

 

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