“What, baby? What, Juby?”
“Fingers.”
He took his best guess and pinched one nipple. “Here?”
“Yes,” she said. “More. Hard.”
He was glad to oblige. He worked her harder, and she cried out a happy sound. Her own hands were rough on him—fingers of one hand twined into his hair, keeping hold of him that way. The other was on his lower back, then his ass. He felt her nails there, and he about lost it right then.
“And—”
She might have finished a sentence there, but she wasn’t fast enough. Brody stuck two fingers up her ass.
She screamed and came at the same time. Her body rocked, flailing out of control, onto his cock and then onto his fingers. He went over at the same time, totally taken by the hot spasms of her cunt and her wild excitement. Wracked with it, Jubilee cried out his name. He fucked his last thrusts into her, his cum blasting out, and he cried out, too. He might have called her name at first, but it ended in a primitive growl. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”
She was boneless as well as likely witless when he went down with her, both of them unable to hold their own weight. He was on top of her, barely sentient enough to pull out and heave himself off to the side.
“Fuck!”
Chapter Six
Henry had…fun.
His parents were already in their forties when he was born, a surprise addition to their tiny family and an only child.
He hadn’t played much in his life. As a young child, he’d spent most of his time alone. He gained one friend on the enforced “state” project in fifth grade. He and Scott Nichols were building the obligatory topographical flour-and-salt-clay map of Minnesota at the Nichols’s home—Henry’s parents really wouldn’t have been able to tolerate the pandemonium. Scott’s parents, younger by far than the Brookses, had figured out the only way to live with their son was to wear him out with activity. They’d interrupted the boys at about the five-hundredth lake so they could take Scott off to hockey practice.
They put Henry in an old pair of Scott’s skates—Henry hadn’t started his growth spurt yet—and, that afternoon, he had fun.
His parents would have been more comfortable with almost any other sport. Probably fencing would have suited them best. But Henry insisted, and, after years of piano lessons and chess camp, hockey became his thing.
He got good at it. And then he got big, and he was great at it. His high school team went to state. RIT made it to the Frozen Four every year he played goalie for them, and, his senior year, they won it all. Of course, having Keith at center and Brody as right wing hadn’t hurt.
But since college, he’d worked on his doctorate and then moved into academic life. His life became a bit somber after his parents died. Fun wasn’t so much part of his routine.
He didn’t have high expectations as he walked down to the pond with Keith, snow shovel over his shoulder. Though Keith, being Keith, made a challenge of it, and, after a while, Henry got into the pleasure of it—hard, muscle-burning work on a pretty winter day, side by side with a good friend.
Under the snow, the ice was in decent condition. A good freeze had preceded the storm. The ice was a bit outdoor, ungroomed rough, but it was perfectly fine for pond hockey. They were nearly done clearing it by the time Brody showed himself. Henry gave him a good once-over and didn’t figure it was a really nice shower that left that cheerful glow on his buddy’s face.
Jubilee was putting some bread on to rise, Brody said. So they laced on their skates, did some drills, and then rotated through a little two-on-one. They were all laughing—and Henry was pushing up from the snowbank he’d landed in, thanks to Brody’s blatant foul—when the girl hobbled down the hill on her figure skates.
She looked like a ballerina when Keith, who’d recovered first, handed her onto the ice. She wore her tights, that floaty little skirt, and a short, closely fitting, fur-trimmed jacket. Keith kept her hand in his and took her into a surprisingly graceful dance. He had her twirling under his arm and everything. Then Brody cut in and, apparently, he’d had some figure-skating lessons they all didn’t know about. The pair glided around in tandem, trading off terms like arabesque and camel spin and shit that had nothing at all to do with hockey.
The two made a pretty picture, though, both of them graceful and athletic, working out moves together. Henry had stood at the edge of the pond watching for a while, arms crossed over his chest, not exactly unhappy, but…maybe a bit jealous. Brody might have noticed because, after a little spin, he sent Jubilee into Henry’s arms.
He caught her, but that was the best he could do. “I got nothing,” he said.
She smiled, placed his hands on her hips, thumbs in toward her belly, and put her hands on his shoulders. “Skate,” she said, her gaze totally locked on his. “And don’t bump me into anything.”
He did what she said, and pretty soon he was happy with it. He pushed her around, and she made it look good. She even coached him through a lift, trusting him to hold her above his head. After a bit of gliding around, she surprised him and pushed off one shoulder, ending up skating side by side with him. Then she was back where he could hold her, and he liked that better.
Later, they put a stick in her hands and gave her a little hockey lesson. She was a quick enough learner, but mostly she was just cute. They paired her with Brody, so Henry got to defend her, which had its own pleasures. Once, he defended her right into the snow bank, turning at the last moment so she landed on top of him. It wasn’t entirely his fault that his hand ended up on her ass, and he didn’t exactly help her up right away either.
They were at the winter solstice, so dark came early. They skated through a pretty sunset, then Jubilee took them out behind the house. She had a fire pit built of stone back there and a stash of wood in the barn. While Henry and Brody got a fire going, Jubilee and Keith went into the house. They came back in a few minutes with mugs of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and laced with Irish whiskey.
Brody had spotted some colorful Adirondack chairs in the barn, and they’d hauled some out to place around the fire. “I think that’s enough,” he’d said, when they’d gotten to three, and Henry nodded in appreciation of the man’s forethought.
Jubilee seemed to catch on right off as she handed a mug to Henry and looked at the seats around the fire. “Sit with me,” he said to her, happy he’d edged Brody out and that Keith had foolishly already claimed a chair.
Henry hadn’t had her to himself yet. And this wasn’t the same as having her naked in bed, but it was damn fine.
He didn’t know, really, what they were doing. He saw only trouble ahead, because he liked Jubilee and wanted her, but it was entirely clear that Brody and Keith felt very much the same. No matter what Keith’s grand plan was, Henry couldn’t see an easy way out for them. His experience was the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted her. He didn’t see it going any other way for his friends, either.
In opposition to his nature, Henry decided to let go of his concern for the future and take pleasure in the moment at least through the weekend. They all sat, Jubilee warmly snuggled in his lap, and watched the fire, then the stars as they came out. Conversation was desultory, not terribly necessary. At Jubilee’s urging, each of them talked a little bit about their families and, specifically, their holiday traditions. She held his hand when he took off his glove for that purpose and rested her head against his shoulder.
Brody could always be counted on to whine first for food, so it came as no surprise when he asked about dinner plans. They hadn’t eaten since their late breakfast, and they’d burned some calories playing on the ice and staying warm.
“We’ve got soup,” Keith said with a grin to Jubilee. Henry figured that had to do with all the plastic Wegmans’ containers he’d seen in Juby’s freezer. “And Jubilee has cheese buns ready to go into the oven.”
Like Henry, Brody probably didn’t think it sounded like much, but none of them had come prepared to feed three bi
g appetites for a full weekend. They wouldn’t have lasted long on the wine Henry had brought. And the take-out and delivery options were probably pretty limited this far out in the country.
It turned out to be enough and damn good, at that. The fire died down and the cold sent them in. They gathered around the island again, warming soup and enjoying the scent of Jubilee’s bread baking. That turned out to be big, hardy buns, whole-grain and marbled with sharp cheddar cheese. She’d made plenty of them, and they went great with the hot soups.
They finished with wine or whiskey in the living room. There was a fire again, but now they were warm. This time, Jubilee sat in Keith’s lap. They were satisfied and lazy, mostly quiet. And then all the way quiet, as Henry and then Brody noticed what Keith was up to.
He’d started kissing Jubilee and touching her. He was subtle about it at first and light-hearted. Just a quick kiss and a stroke along her back or leg. A little at a time, he got more serious, and the show got pretty hot. With his fingers, Keith bared Jubilee’s shoulder. His hand caressed her, and Henry was sure he wasn’t alone in willing Keith’s hand to take it further.
Keith’s hand did good work. Before long, Jubilee’s breast was bare, and Henry’s attention was entirely focused on the way Keith’s thumb strummed over the nipple. Jubilee seemed to like it, too. She wrapped her arms around Keith’s neck and shoulders.
Keith, being the considerate buddy that he was, took one of those arms and tucked it behind her back. He held it there with his hand, keeping it from blocking the view.
Brody was the first of the spectators to move in on the action. He got up and went to kneel in front of the distracted couple in the chair. He slid his hands up under Jubilee’s skirt, grasped her tights, and tugged them off. Henry got a glimpse of a very scanty bit of silk that matched the pink of her bra.
Jubilee turned from Keith’s kiss to make eye contact with Brody. Passively, she let it happen as Brody bent one of her knees up and open. She murmured out a little whimper when Brody moved toward her pussy, his intent obvious.
“Jubilee.” Henry spoke her name with enough force to get her attention. “Look at me.”
Then he watched, as Keith played with her nipple and Brody used his mouth on her. It was hot as hell, the way she responded so quickly to Brody’s stimulation, the way she had to struggle to keep her gaze on Henry’s.
The woman had a pretty short fuse. He didn’t think anyone intended it, including her, but Jubilee was panting and close to coming in just a few minutes. Brody got his hands and fingers involved, and it was an easy guess what he was doing with them when Jubilee mixed a couple little squeals in with her moans.
Henry said her name one more time when she closed her eyes. She opened them and, reading his intention, kept them open and on him while she came.
Somehow, that was fantastic in a way he’d never have anticipated. A thrill ran through him, turning his cock to hot steel, watching a girl he liked a lot brought to orgasm by his two buddies, and having her look back at him while it happened. When she finally closed her eyes, replete, Keith made eye contact with Henry.
“Let’s take her upstairs,” he said.
* * * *
Keith boosted her up and Brody was right there, steadying her in his arms while she found her legs again. Jubilee looked up at him, still trying to gather her senses. She felt Keith’s hand on her ass and knew Henry was still holding her with his green gaze.
One way or another, they all had her. And she knew that was Keith’s intent, that they very literally would all have her this night. He’d already instructed her, given her a first lesson, in how she could accommodate her three lovers.
Brody’s hands were gently herding her toward the stairs, and she let it happen. Sometime later, she thought, she’d wrap her head around what she was doing. Or try to.
She’d loved a man once in her life, been with only him physically. She’d lived her life in a fairly sheltered way. At no time had she been on the fringe of socially acceptable behavior. Two weeks earlier in her life, she would have denied to her last breath the possibility that she would let three men share her body.
She didn’t take walks on the wild side. She didn’t have a wild side.
Somehow, these three men had stolen a bit of her heart. All they’d had to do was show up at her door in need of help. She opened the door to them, and they were inside, not just her home, but her life. And yes, her heart.
Keith had asked her to give them this weekend, and she’d agreed. She decided she would give it to herself, too. Another day, another week, some whole other time would be time enough to think about what she was doing.
Brody had her hand and was leading her up the stairs. Keith and Henry were behind her, both of them with a hand on her.
She was going to let this happen.
* * * *
Keith thought it was up to him to be the maestro of this event. He’d told Brody and Henry he had a plan, and he’d secured Jubilee’s consent. He could see the possibilities. The possibility.
He didn’t think he was pushing Jubilee too hard. Certainly, this would be beyond her normal boundaries, well beyond her normal experience. But somehow, he thought, she was feeling okay with it. Even feeling a bit excited about it. Something about their urgent tumble into her house last week had let them into her heart a bit, too.
He was sure she was open to what was about to happen, even if she was nervous about it.
She’d been happy to see them—all three of them—on her doorstep this weekend—he was sure about that, too.
He’d teased her about it when they were in the kitchen earlier. Shamelessly snooping, he’d spotted the sales tags for the high-end lingerie she’d purchased during the week. Several tags for several items. He’d told her he figured those were the pretty bits of silk he and his friends had seen, had been treated to. He wondered if she’d made those purchases with the three of them in mind. He presumed she had, and her blush had confirmed it.
Maybe she hadn’t specifically imagined all three of them in her house, or all three of them sharing her body.
But she hadn’t said no to it.
Keith had lit the fireplace to warm the room when he’d come in earlier. Brody led Jubilee to the bed and turned with her when he got there. Henry stepped close, too. Only Keith stayed back, just a few steps into the room. He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Undress her,” he said. “Down to those pretty undies.”
He watched while Henry and Brody did his bidding. They both kissed her—her lips and most of the parts of her they bared—as they did it. Their big hands stroked over her, warming her, he could see, in more ways than one.
They held her when they were done. Brody had one of her hands in his and was rubbing it over the fly of his jeans—and his hard cock. Henry had a hand on her neck and was trailing kisses along her skin.
Keith stripped his sweater and shirt off over his head and peeled out of his socks. He walked to the bed behind them and took a pillow. He plopped it down on the floor in front of Jubilee.
“I want you on your knees, babe.”
She might be there for a while. Providing a little cushion for her knees was only considerate.
The men at her side helped her down. Keith stepped close in front of her, put both hands behind her head, and brought her face against his crotch. He was already hard, and he pressed into her, giving himself a little massage against her cheeks, her jaw, her mouth. She put her hands on his hips to steady herself. After a couple minutes of it, fingers twined in her hair, he leaned over her, tilted her head back, and kissed her. He was aggressive about it, thrusting his tongue in, using his teeth.
When he was done ravaging her, he lifted up until she could see his eyes. “Now open me up and take my cock down your throat.”
Maybe that was over the top for her. She’d admitted to some experience giving head, but swallowing a man down—especially a big man—might be more than she’d had in mind when she’d answered his qu
estion about it.
Well, they’d find out.
Either way, she was game. She looked back into his eyes and seemed to accept the challenge. Taking her hands from his hips, she went to the fastening of his jeans. She unbuttoned him and then took the zipper down. She was a bit of a witch about it, drawing her lower lip into her mouth as she concentrated on her task, and letting the zipper down one tooth at a time. Keith thought the way her knuckles rubbed over him repeatedly was entirely gratuitous.
And inflammatory.
She brought his thrusting cock out and steadied it with her cheek while she nudged his jeans and briefs far enough down his hips to give her some room to work. She glanced up at him one more time, then put her tongue at the base of his cock and slowly stroked her way to the tip.
“Jesus,” he murmured.
Jubilee was either a natural or she had some damn skill. She ran her tongue over the whole of his cock head, teasing a little right at the tip. Then her lips closed around him, and she drew on him. She used a lot of suction, holding him tightly just like that hot pussy of hers did. She worked him with her tongue, too, until he groaned with it.
Letting him go then, she slicked her tongue over the whole length of him. Wetting him. Making him ready. With another glance up, she opened again to take him just barely inside her mouth. Then she put her hands to either side. Henry and Brody each took one like she’d apparently meant, and held it.
She was offering herself, Keith realized. Brody and Henry held her hands, and her mouth was there for the taking. For his taking.
He fucking wasn’t saying no. He still had his hands on her head and he secured her now. Holding her, he pushed in and fucked her mouth. She looked up at him, accepting. Groaning again, he worked himself into her, going to the back of her mouth.
She took that without complaint, and he would have sworn he saw a glimmer of challenge in her eyes.
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