by Starr, Maia
“Have you ever been captive of your own pleasure?” he asked me, his tone turning huskier with each word uttered. Quizzically, I perked my brow and averted my gaze as I considered his question.
“What do you mean?” I asked him, curious to learn how a person could be captive of their own pleasure. Malick seemed appeased by my response and his grin widened as he leaned closer to me.
“I could show you,” he winked. James, by this point, seemed to chuckle slightly, as if he understood what was being offered. I glanced his direction, and he arose upon his knees, crawling toward me, his hands slipped to my shoulders,
“We can show you,” he added, with emphasis on the word we. I couldn’t have been more ecstatic or surprised by the tempting opportunity they were suggesting, but I needed to clarify if my wicked thoughts were to blame or reality was about to get sticky and complicated. With James in front of me, Malick arose upon his knees and slid his hands down to my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh just enough for me to feel the pressure on each hip. I gasped softly, my lips falling to part slowly. James lowered his mouth to capture my lower lip between his teeth then slipped his tongue to tease my own, kissing me deeply as Malick leaned forward, dipping his mouth to the side of my neck where his canines nipped at my skin. With my mouth commanded by the sweet and luscious taste of James’ kiss, I moaned into his lips. The muffled sound only heightened James’ arousal, and he broke free of the kiss to peer into my eyes.
“Have you got something to say, pretty one?” he asked me, with a soft and hungry expression, his eyes heavy with desire, desire specifically for me. Malick growled against the lobe of my ear, his tongue slipping outward to caress it before he nipped into the flesh thereof. A low moan emitted from me, and James slid lower, pushing my shirt up to trail his lips across the plane of my belly up toward my barely-clad breasts, the fabric of my shirt only slightly veiling them. I didn’t know what James wanted me to say, but I felt the urgency to encourage them both to continue and mumbled as I sucked in a breath.
“Yes, please,” I groaned, turning my head slightly to give Malick more room. Neither man needed any further encouragement, and Malick immediately pulled my body closer to his, his arms slipping to grab mine as James arose above me. My eyes lifted, scouring over his sculpted body and biting into my lip with anticipation. The makeshift clothing he was wearing, slipped from him like molten lava trailing off a perfectly shaped cliffside, and the etchings were exquisite, and as his cock came into my sight, I widened my eyes in anticipation. “Anything you want from me,” he leaned down, much to my surprise. “You will get in my timing, slow and aching; my purpose is to please you, Hailey,” he murmured. Malick suddenly released my arms and the two men traded spaces, James coming to stand behind me, his tender hands grabbing at my wrists, which he held at my side. Malick walked in front of me, and grinning with a darkness I couldn’t quite explain, he allowed his clothes to slip off him and pulled out his already hard shaft and walked toward me. I peered up at him with uncertainty, and James, as if he could sense my sudden apprehension, leaned in and whispered softly against my ear, “Release your inhibitions and learn the power of pleasure,” he urged. Malick approached me, his cock in hand and pressed the tip against my bottom lip, dragging it teasingly across.
“Part them wide, pretty one; I don’t like to wait long,” he said, in a husky and dominant tone. Doing as I was instructed, I slowly opened my mouth, and Malick slipped his hand down to cradle the side of my cheek, pressing his thumb into my jaw bone and easing my mouth to open wider, “Deeper; suck hard and run your tongue around the head,” he ordered. I gulped, and circling my tongue around the head of his cock, I began to suckle, harder and harder with each passing moment. Malick groaned deeply, and stepped back, careful not to retract his cock from my lips as he did so, “Drop to your hands and knees, Hailey,” he commanded. James flicked his tongue out across my earlobe and whimpered,
“Hurry now, precious one. I want you to enjoy more fun,” he urged, releasing my wrists as he spoke. Prompted to obey, I slid forward, arching my back like a cat in stretch, and splayed my hands out before me, taking care not to allow Malick’s massive shaft to break free of my lips or scrape against the edges of my teeth. He grinned and slid his hand to the back of my head, his fingers wrapping in my hair as he gripped it to pull me back. Sadly, his cock slid free of my mouth and I salivated as I watched him. He nodded to James behind me,
“Think it’s your turn for the oral prescription,” he chuckled. James arose and walked to the front of me, and Malick moved to kneel behind me, his hand slapping against my backside caused a yelp to emit my lips, and James’s expression softened as he watched me whimpering. I continued to stay in place, on all fours, with James towering over me. He slipped his cock between his hands and began to stroke himself gently before me. And just when I thought I could no longer contain my frustration, James slid the tip of his cock to tease along my lower lip. Malick slipped his hand up between my thighs and began to rub vigorously, my slickening skin only serving to encourage him more.
“You squirt like a geyser; are you that worked up?” he smirked, placing his hands on either side of my ass and splaying me open to the cool night air. He suddenly lifted up onto his knees, and placing his rock-hard prick to my dripping hole, he plunged himself fully inside me in one quick and deep thrust of his hips.
“Mm,” I moaned, and as my lips parted, James slid his cock fully into my mouth, his fingers gently lacing into my hair as he held it back from my face. Malick’s nails bit into my hip, and I braced myself for impact from both men on either side, my fingers digging into the ground beneath me as Malick retracted and thrust even deeper, proceeding to quicken his pace with every inward motion. James’ cock was somewhat larger than Malick’s, or at least it felt that way as I drug my tongue along the ridge of his head. He shuddered visibly above me, and I found myself growing more aroused by his facial expressions and the clear pleasure that was flashing across his handsome face.
Malick felt incredible inside of me, stretching my tight walls around the massiveness of his cock, and driving me straight to the edge of sanity, my orgasm teasing and testing the waters as if he were intentionally keeping me right on the line where torture and pleasure flirted with one another. James, however, was slower about things, each stroke within my lips bringing us both closer to euphoria, which slightly surprised me. I had never imagined being the giver of oral pleasure could be so delicious, and yet it was.
Malick finally began to tense, his muscles beginning to clue him to his coming orgasm, and suddenly he slammed into my backside, his nails burying into my skin, and groaned so loud it was almost thunderous, as it echoed across the landscape. I too, felt my body clenching around his cock, in perfect timing and arched my back as my body released wave after wave of tremors around my erogenous regions, and as I came, I could no longer contain myself, slipping James’ cock from my lips as I moaned aloud to the sky, “Oh, god, yes!” I hollered, knowing nobody but the three of us could hear us and James, appeased with my pleasure suddenly began to erupt pearly white beads from his own cock. Smiling, I leaned forward and caught the drips with my tongue, and the taste was like pure divinity.
He grinned widely, his index finger tracing the underside of my chin tenderly as he looked down at me. Malick arose and gave my ass a firm slap, leaning forward to literally take a bite of my skin. It didn’t hurt, but never before had a man chosen to take a bite out of my backside before. I supposed there was a first time for everything and found it oddly erotic, even if it wasn’t expected.
“Did you enjoy yourself, beautiful one?” James asked me, kneeling down to cradle me in his arms, and placing his chin gently atop my head. I smiled, my eyes closing gently as I rested against him. It was a tender and precious moment, and I realized then the difference between these two was clear: one was a passionate and genteel lover, while the other was a brooding, dark, and sensuous mystery. How was I ever supposed to choose?
Chapter Fourteen
Hailey
The evening before had been like a dream, a fantasy, and everything a horny, curious girl could possibly hope for when it came to the arts of carnal pleasure. Being between Malick and James, I had truly let loose in ways I had never before allowed myself to. It was liberating and intoxicating at the same time, and unlike any experience I had ever been a part of. And yet, despite the wondrous release it brought me, I felt oddly shy the next day. Like I had perhaps given too much away and no longer had anything left to offer. I felt a pang of surprise and longing in my chest upon thinking this, but like a lovesick teenager, I feared losing their interest, or worse—having my heart crushed once I was tossed to the side. Not that any of them ever gave me the inkling that they would throw me away like trash, but the thought created a need in me, and the first action I took was to fall into a routine. I remembered some of those old cliché quotes that matchmakers or anxious mothers would tell their daughters in order to help them find a suitable husband. Wasn’t cooking the way to a man’s heart? Or was it their stomach led the way to their heart? I couldn’t remember, but the gist of it was the same, right? Cooking food and being a domestic diva seemed to have that snag-a-man affect written all over it. So, what was a girl to do? I had bartending experience out the behind and lately, my usually confident strut had been dropped a few notches to where I suddenly felt like a lame mare barely trotting through life and it was definitely not working for me. I strode into the kitchen to find Cree standing at the chopping block finely cutting onions, julienne style.
“What are you doing?” I asked him, curious about what he was about to get started for breakfast.
“I thought making some fried oysters and chopping some vegetables for omelets might be tasty this morning. I also thought, after your long day yesterday that you might want to be served breakfast in bed,” he said with a smile, as he placed the knife on the chopping block. I pursed my lips and looked at the island behind him. On it, there were stacks of all sorts of colorful fresh vegetables, and I perked my brow at it.
“Looks like I’m already out of bed for the day,” I smiled warmly, “Do you need some help?” asked him. He grinned and pointed toward the fridge.
“In there, right on the front middle rack, is a zipper-lock bag that has the fresh oysters in it. Get those out, and I’ll explain how to get them frying,” he said. I paused in thought.
“Do they need shucking?” I asked, hoping this wasn’t going to turn into a full-on feast preparation. Much to my appeasement, he shook his head.
“No, they’ve been shucked. All you have to do is pull the bag out, and I’ll explain the process to you. Do you want yours breaded or not?” he asked. Puzzled by this question I was stared at him blankly.
“Breaded or not?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m asking cause if you want them breaded we will bread them all, but if not, we can do a garlic olive oil fry and season them with a little Himalayan pink salt. But if you want them breaded, I’m going to have to explain my mama’s recipe to you,” he said, winking, “And if I do that, I might just have to execute you later. Not something I really wanna see,” he said jokingly. I shook my head and gave him a playful shove.
“You know what? I think just the garlic oil fry will work. I’m feeling pretty famished today,” I added. He smirked.
“Ooo, you just used a fifty-cent word in a sentence,” he said, turning back to chopping onions. I chuckled and turned the fridge pulling the oysters out onto a clean cutting board. I turned to search for a frying pan and was a little surprised when Cree said, “Use the cast iron, it works the best.”
“You got it,” I put the pan on the stove and turned to wash my hands before approaching the oysters in the bag. I enjoyed seafood, but the look of oysters in plastic reminded me of a colonoscopy bag; and it nearly made me barf as a reaction.
“You okay?” Cree asked, hearing my dry heaves as I tried to suppress them. I decided it was best not to explain what I envisioned and promptly nodded my head, opening the zipper bag and dumping the oysters out onto the cutting board in front of me. I lifted the salt grinder and began to turn the knob, grinding pink crystallized salt into tiny pieces like glitter as it fell upon the meat.
“Okay, well if you’ve got them seasoned, the infused oil is right in the cupboard above the stove. Just eyeball it in there about an inch across the bottom of the pan,” he directed. Again, I nodded and pulled the oil down and did just what he instructed me to do. I turned the heat knob to a mid-heat range knowing that olive oil had a reputation for burning quickly if kept too hot too long. The scent of garlic and oil filled my nostrils immediately, and I turned, lifting the seasoned oysters, and hesitated.
“Cree, do I dump the whole thing or individually?” I asked, almost certain I already knew the answer.
“Dump it,” he said, “I’m almost finished with the last of these veggies,” he added. I smiled. I was right about one of my thoughts though: spending time with each of them individually and applying myself to the needs of the household did make me feel less awkward, less fearful, and more comfortable with the predicament I had found myself in. I dumped the oysters and fried them quickly, thankful that Cree was as sweet as honey no matter what seemed to happen, and I was relieved.
After breakfast, I decided that spending the morning with Cree had been fun, but I wanted to see what Weston was doing after having spent so much time the previous day with James, Malick, and Cree. I knew he had a habit of gardening either early in the morning or later in the evening but walking out the back door of the house and seeing him watering the plants, I decided to go out and learn more about the food they grew since I had learned a bit about the kitchen and how it ran already. Weston was a beautiful man, incredibly strong and virile, and the alpha of the group for a clear reason, but I hadn’t had much time alone with him, and this seemed to be the perfect time for it.
“Hey,” I said, approaching slowly behind him and smiling briefly as he turned back toward me.
“Hey,” he said, still watering the plants.
“Do you need any help today?” I asked him, looking over the expansive garden in shock and awe. “You really got a spread out here,” I added. He nodded.
“Yeah, it takes a lot to keep this many men fed well. We all do our part to put a big dent in it every year, though, believe me,” he added.
“So, are you the green-thumbed one then?” I asked.
“Something like that, I guess. It’s nice to come out here and enjoy the outdoors, though. I sometimes feel a little too cooped up in the house,” he muttered. I nodded; I understood that really well, and though I had spent a lot of time helping around the house, I still felt a little stifled by the place.
“I can relate to that. I mean, I love being here with all of you, but after a couple of days, it gets so monotonous. I yearn to get out, maybe visit the city,” I explained. It was true, and while I appreciated everything that he and the other guys had done, I missed my old life somewhat. I missed the independence of being able to come and go as I pleased, and while I knew the guys had my best interests at heart, I still didn’t want to be a caged bird. It just wasn’t my style.
“Are you feeling trapped here?” he asked me, a worried expression crossing his face as he turned off the water hose. I shook my head.
“No, it’s not like that. It’s just I wouldn’t mind a ride or just getting out for a little while,” I said. Weston stepped toward me and waved his hand at me.
“Come here,” he commanded, and I did as I was bid, walking forward until I was just a few inches from his chest. He smiled appreciatively and gently placed his index finger beneath my chin. “If it will bring a smile to your face, a sense of security and warmth to your heart, and ultimately allow you to find contentment, I will do everything—” he put emphasis on the word everything, “to ensure you receive it.” I could feel my heartbeat increase, and at that moment, I realized making time for each of them was easy enough, but the way they all m
ade me feel, while similar, was never completely the same. It was as if I could and was falling deeper into infatuation with each of them, and directionally speaking, I had no idea which way was best to take.
Was it possible I could navigate these waters, with all their various channels and curiosities, and maintain a relationship with each of them? I wasn’t sure, but I knew that my feelings were leading me that way, and I didn’t want to think of any other outcome. Not right then, and truly, not ever.
“Weston, just being here with all of you has brought me more joy than anything I have ever before experienced. My only fear is being stuck somewhere forever. I’ve always been the sort of woman who struck out on her own, and usually, I did good at it, but without you and the guys, I don’t want to think of what may have happened to me when you found me. Thank you, for everything,” I whispered. Weston smiled and pulled me into his chest, and for a moment it felt like the whole world could fall apart, and I would still be safe, tucked into his warm and comforting embrace.
Chapter Fifteen
Weston
I wasn’t moved by much, not typically, but something about Hailey… it was like how I imagined water meeting the bank would be, eroding away at the strong surface and creating its impression in the soil, taking piece by piece away with each toss of the current. I was the embankment, and Hailey was the flowing water. Peaceful, graceful, tranquil—all until something came along to upset its natural state. When we had come across Hailey as we had, I realized I wanted nothing to ever upset her serenity ever again. The ripple effects of life had clearly done enough of that already. I watched her carefully, and when anything happened to put her in more danger, I felt the beast stir in me, ready to pounce and destroy whatever it was that put her at risk. What I particularly noticed was how she tended to morph into a role and how she had shown an interest in the domestic responsibilities of the home. These were all traits I appreciated in a woman, but when she decided to come out to help me with the garden and explained how monotonous life could sometimes be, I totally got it, and I also felt a little guilty about keeping her under lock and key. It didn’t feel right, and being the wild person I was, I felt compelled to make her feel better.