With that, Nate sank himself deep. The thick, forceful penetration didn’t just touch every trigger I possessed, it detonated me. The potency of my orgasm was so extreme I cried out, letting Riley almost slip from my mouth while at the same time squeezing onto him with my hands, for dear life. Riley was coming. Great bursts jetted out of him, onto my mouth. I hardly noticed. My entire body was coming. I was writhing and moaning, clenching and spasming in every way it was possible to do. And Nate was forcing the ecstasy higher with his deep, lunging drives as he growled and came. I was stretched so tightly around him I could feel his cock jerking and bucking inside me. My body was grasping onto him in rippling compression, until the warmth spread and the pulses calmed.
We collapsed into a connective heap, breathing heavily, swooning and sated from the intensity of it all. I was half sprawled on top of Riley. Nate was still inside me, softened but still beautifully bulky. My inner muscles fluttered around him, the aftershocks soothing and sublime. I could taste Riley on my lips.
“Holy hell,” Riley said, half-groaning, half-laughing. He used the sheet to wipe my face, carefully. “You are somethin’ else, honey pie. Can we do that again?”
I found this funny. I started giggling, uncontrollably. God, they felt good. Too good. A girl could get used to this. Hard to believe I’d been an ice maiden only this morning. Now I felt like the queen of the goddamn world.
I was still holding Riley’s softened, slippery shaft in my hands and I caressed him lazily, without intent. Nate was spooning me, his big body wrapped around me, tucked inside mine. His brawny arms were like iron bars, and I found I liked their solidity, holding me close. Nate and Riley were chuckling too, and the rhythm of our laughter was therapeutic somehow, soft and sensual and connective.
“Wow.” I didn’t want to move. None of us did. Nate was playing with my hair, nibbling my neck.
We just lay there for a while like that, touching, feeling, letting the effects of our collective climax mellow as they would.
Riley’s stomach made a loud rumbling sound. I started giggling again.
“When’s the last time we ate somethin’?” Riley said. “Nate, didn’t you order room service?”
“I told them to put it in the fridge.”
I lifted my head so Riley could slide off the bed. He walked over to the fridge and started pulling stuff out of it.
Nate grabbed a pillow and set it down for me to rest my head on. He didn’t loosen his hold on me, or pull himself out of my body. “You all right?” he murmured into my ear. His enormous shaft, still buried deep inside me, if I wasn’t mistaken, was reviving. Already. The man was a specimen of virility, that was obvious enough.
I turned towards him. His hair was all messed up and sticking out. He looked even more beautiful all disheveled like that. “I’m all right. Are you all right?”
“Never been better, sugar. You feel like nothing else on this earth.”
Our eyes met and the link was startlingly connective, staring into his midnight gaze like that while he was still inside me. I loved how tender his contemplation was; such an appealing glow from within the macho, ultra-masculine spectacle of him.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“A little.”
Nate, without much effort at all, repositioned us. Damn, the man was strong. Without jostling me, he manoeuvered us so that he was sitting up on the bed, leaning back against the bedhead, and I was sitting on his lap. And he was still inside me. “This okay?” he whispered. His hands cupped my breasts gently, even fingering my nipples. Not lustily, not really. Sort of absent-mindedly, like he was just relaxing, his mind elsewhere.
I wondered what he was thinking about.
The combination of the sensations he was inspiring was soft and engaging, peaceful.
Riley carried a big tray of shrimp and sandwiches over to the bed. He sat next to us, as though it was the most natural, normal thing in the world for me to be sitting on Nate with his hardening cock buried deep inside me while we carried on a casual conversation.
“What do you want, Lace? Some shrimp cocktail? These are some beauties. I’ll feed you.”
I started giggling again. I couldn’t help myself. I was enjoying my hedonism too much, maybe. Who knew what tomorrow would bring? I was going to make the most of this. Of them. Of all of it. I leaned back against Nate, resting my head against his muscular chest. The angle of my new position caused him to slide deeper into me. He still wasn’t fully hard again but I felt like he was occupying most of my insides. I was stretched so tightly around him that it was almost uncomfortable. But not quite. Just full. Possessing me in a way I had never before been possessed.
“Whatever the lady requires,” Riley said, dipping a shrimp into the cocktail sauce and feeding me a bite. He handed Nate a steak sandwich. No one seemed perturbed by the fact that Nate and I were still moistly locked and slowly but surely gaining momentum.
I realized I was actually very hungry. Riley fed me until I started feeling full. Then he dipped his finger into the cocktail sauce and dabbed a drop of it onto my nipple. He did the same to the other. “Oops,” he smiled. “Let me clean you up a little, sugar.”
Riley leaned forward and started sucking my breasts, his vigor returning to him. He licked me clean until my nipples were pink and supple. Each stroke of his tongue reminded me that Nate was getting bigger. Sitting like I was, each tiny degree of expansion was amplified, like he was ballooning inside me, expanding into a million sweet points of pressure. I felt everything. And I felt the compounded surge when he gently thrust upwards.
If I didn’t know better I might have thought they were trying to make me come again. Without them.
“Oh no you don’t,” I said, glancing at both of them.
“What?” Riley said innocently.
I could see the mischief in him and felt a profound sense of joy that I could read it. They were. They were conspiring against me. To sneak another orgasm in there while I was hardly looking.
“Just sit back and relax, honey,” Riley said. “Go on. It’s gonna feel real good.”
“I want you to feel good, too.”
“We do feel good,” Nate murmured. “More than good.”
Well, three could play at this game. I squeezed my inner muscles around him, once and again. I started a slow, cyclical pace, clenching, rocking, gently impaling myself with his now-rock-hard cock. Nate swore under his breath, holding onto my hips. My climax was there, fringing. Starting to take hold. But I pulled carefully away, rising to all-fours. My pussy was fluttering already but I held off the rising spasms. I didn’t want to go it alone. I wanted that shared intensity again, with them. It was perverse, maybe. Wild, definitely. But I wanted Nate to see me. I wanted him to see the half-sated, half-aroused state of me. How close I was. How used I was. By his hard, punishing cock. And I wanted him to punish me again.
I lay down on the bed, on my side with my legs together, my body bent into an almost-fetal position. A wanton one. I knew the lips of my pussy would be visible to him, still pink and swollen from his powerful possession.
Riley could see me, too. The way my breasts were plumped together, my nipples hard and pink from his attentions.
“I’m not coming unless you do,” I said, almost sulkily. Nate was still within my reach. I pulled at the reservoir end of his condom, which was full of milky liquid. “Take this off,” I said. He did, and as I watched him do this, I wished I could have him inside me like that. Bare. Skin to skin. But I probably wouldn’t get that chance. By the time I had enough money to go to a doctor or a pharmacist to get a new prescription for my pills, Nate would be long gone. And so would Riley. I’d be on my own again, hitch-hiking my way along a lonely Texas highway. Getting lifts from the likes of Mr. Pontiac. The thought subdued me. I lay my head down and closed my eyes.
Nate scooched down so he was lying next to me, facing me. I was trying hard not to cry, and not having much luck. I didn’t know what I was crying for. The last orgasm had
been so intense, maybe, that it had shaken something loose. I could feel the presence of Riley behind me, laying down and spooning me against his warmth. And his length.
“You tired, honey?” Nate asked me.
“No, I’m not tired,” I said, opening my eyes, stunned as always by the violet-blue hue of his eyes, rimmed as they were by those thick lashes. His wild new look, with his dark hair all unruly from my hands, was almost more than I could take. “Nate?”
“Yeah, sugar?”
“I think you’re beautiful, Nate. So beautiful.”
He paused, as though disarmed by my small confession. “I think you’re beautiful, too, honey. So fucking beautiful it breaks my heart.”
I was crying but it was okay. I might have been crying with happiness. I was touching Nate’s hair, fingering the thick strands of it. “I feel better when you’re inside me,” I whispered.
“I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven when I’m inside you,” Nate told me.
Nate reached for a fresh condom and rolled it on. He seemed to get my mood, and tune in to it. I wasn’t sure how he understood exactly what I needed, but every move he made, every glance and every touch was, in some unknowable way, perfectly in sync with my tumbled emotion and my sultry desire. I gently pushed Nate onto his back and he allowed this. He pulled us both up the bed until he was propped on a pillow and I was straddling him. Riley was there too, behind me, pulling my hair back, touching my skin.
I sat up onto Nate, fitting his mammoth, glorious cock to my entrance. I felt a little overcome. I already knew that Nate’s possession was practically a religious experience and I was psyching myself up, riding the thick tip of him as he began to push himself into me. His hands were on my hips but he held me loosely, letting me control the depth.
I slid further down onto him. In this position, he felt enormous. Painfully so. But I was needy, and so was he. We were both working the slow slide. My tightness prevented an easy progression, but the pain was sweet-edged.
Nate pulled out a little, then thrust again. And again. Nate the magician. Nate the beautiful. I was moaning and my eyes were still leaking, but he somehow managed to get my small, tight body to accept him. To moisten and open and take all of him, until I was seated fully onto him. I clenched around him lovingly. Happily. God, how good he felt. Like I’d always been empty and now I was whole.
Cold, gliding fingers touched me from behind. Very cold. Slippery. Riley was putting the lube on me. And more. Caressing the secret hollow, getting me ready.
Oh, God. Could I handle this?
The thought of them both, of what Riley was about to do, flooded me with tentative excitement. With fear and with lust. “Lace,” Riley murmured. “You want more? You want us both? I’m only gonna do this if you say so.”
I did want this. Already I could feel my own wetness, easing the snug tightness of my body around Nate’s. Nate’s grip on me was fierce, almost aggressive. Reflexively, I arched my back as Riley applied more of the cool liquid, pushing a finger deeper into me. “I do. I do want you. I want you both.”
I heard the rip of foil, then felt the pressure of Riley’s cock there, against the tight pucker of my ass. Pressing. Pushing into the tight passage made slick by his slippery fingers.
“Oh,” I gasped.
“Oh, fuck,” Riley added, as the head of his cock gained entry.
“Wait,” I breathed. It was too much. The pain was spiked, with little darts of pleasure at the very tips.
“Just tell me when,” Riley said, grasping for control. “I’ll take it slow.”
I arched again, testing my body’s limits. And as I moved, the pain began to turn. The ache was so deep, so shaded. So good. “More,” I managed.
Riley pressed himself deeper. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he slurred. “Oh, holy fuck, I can’t hold this.”
I almost liked that he was losing his control. It made me feel like I could find mine. And the fullness was indescribable. I arched and swiveled forward, barely, feeling the full, staggering immensity of Nate. Then I eased back, receiving more, and more, as Riley eased forward, in and in, until he was deeply seated inside me.
Their hands were on me. Clutching. Communicating their quiet frenzy, their near-death. I was their vessel. It was a strangely powerful realization. The overload of sensation was almost otherwordly. An out-of-body experience of sorts. There was pain, but the pain was layered with a bliss-edged decadence. I adjusted, learning the hotspots and comfort zones. And I began to use my body to hold them gently, sweetly, tightly, to lure them and caress them and pleasure them.
They were both mindless. Blinded by their pleasure. Working to stave off the release. And I could feel the tide of my own deeply-buried rapture beginning to rise. I rocked, very gently, arching my lower back to swivel my hips in a back-forth sway. I worked Nate on the forward sway, squeezing my inner muscles even more tenderly around him. Then I took Riley deeper on the backward shift, pushing against him, taking everything I could of him, of them both.
They began to respond, swaying along with me. But as soon as the rhythm took hold, the climax locked in, as a three-way swell. We worked it, groaning, sweating, swearing, gripping. My hair was wet from the exertion and the lust. I was half broken and half resurrected. My body was being fully, wildly possessed and I welcomed all of it.
The orgasm was almost too much to bear. I was outside it, riding the high surf as my body convulsed with profound, endless pleasure. I pulled the bliss from them, I could feel that. I could feel their grunty rapture spooling into me in golden, magical bursts. And we came together, as one writhing mess of lusty, bonded, beautiful life.
***
Nate carried me to the shower. He held me as I sat on a cedar shower bench and he washed me from head to toe. I was limp and sore. I felt like I’d run a marathon or climbed goddamn Mount Everest. I couldn’t have moved to save my life. And I didn’t need to. Nate supported me completely, holding me on his lap as he washed my body and my hair. My head lolled on his shoulder as he worked, my eyes half closed.
So many things about Nate surprised me. At first I’d taken him for a cold, impenetrable type. He’d seemed quietly dangerous behind those sunglasses, his big fist clenched around the steering wheel, saying nothing. Now I knew better. He was gentle as only a big man could be. He was infinitely careful with me and his strength allowed him to handle me as though I was made of glass or fine china. He was meticulous, scrubbing my skin with a soft sea sponge, running it over my breasts, my stomach, gently between my legs where I was, at this point, very tender. He scrubbed some shampoo through the long locks of my hair. Then he took the detachable shower head and rinsed me thoroughly. Everywhere.
Then he dried me with the fluffiest towel I’d ever felt and carried me naked to the second bedroom. He tucked me in like I was a small child, kissing my hair, my closed eyes, my lips. He murmured words to me. Soothing words that were almost nonsensical. Sweet words.
Then he left me.
I was drifting but still awake. My mind was retracing the day’s journey, of body and soul. I felt like a different person entirely. Like I’d woken up this morning as a wayward, drifting, down-trodden wretch and somehow through the course of the day been reborn, again and again, as a luck-touched angel, flying, riding high. It didn’t matter that I was, in fact, no better off than I had been twenty-four hours ago. My spirit was better off, God knew that. I’d been broken apart and reassembled as someone stronger and more powerful, that’s how it felt.
Before sleep overtook me I could hear the two of them talking, their voices low. It was strange: it sounded like they were exchanging words. Arguing, almost. But why?
I was too exhausted to find out or to worry about it. The last flicker of awareness told me that someone was crawling into bed with me but I couldn’t open my eyes to see who it was. I could feel him, though. I could feel that warm, sculpted chest and the flex of those big muscles as he wrapped his arm around me and cocooned me in his iron nest of safety.
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Nate.
Chapter Six
I woke to the scent of coffee. Sweet wafts of cool air caressed my naked body, entwined as it was with the luxuriously soft sheets that were coiled around me as though I’d been restless in the night.
I couldn’t remember any dreams and felt like I’d slept for a long time. I could sense immediately that I was alone. And that my body felt sore as I flexed and tentatively stretched. I opened my eyes to full daylight, softened by the draw of white, gauzy curtains that danced in the breeze. The doors to the balcony were wide open and the day looked, as usual, like it was hot as sin out there.
Not in here.
It took me a few seconds to realize where I was.
Dallas.
A hotel.
With the two hot cowboys in the red convertible Mustang.
Oh, my God.
It all came flooding back to me. I’d left Cal, my car had broken down, I’d guzzled a generous helping of whiskey, and I’d gotten a lift … and then proceeded to get down and dirty with my all-American cowboy escorts like nobody’s business.
Holy hell. I’d had sex with two gorgeous strangers. At the same time.
I’d had not one orgasm – finally! – but what, three? Four? Five?
And as I recalled the events of the day in exacting detail, my hands feathered across my skin, remembering every touch. My breasts were pink from being suckled and attentively manipulated. The muscles of my stomach and thighs were tight, as though I’d been engaged in a round of particularly strenuous gymnastics. And between my legs, I felt swollen and sweetly sore. Beatifically used. Impaled and pounded. By those big –
Oh, God.
Wow.
I was a little surprised with myself. For not feeling even an inkling of regret. My body was sated and my soul felt … happy. Like being properly made love to – at long last – was as much of a spiritual experience as a physical one. Now, it seemed the cowboys in question were nowhere to be found. I never wore a watch but guessed it must be almost noon. The sun seemed high in the sky. They’d had meetings, I remembered. Business to attend to.
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