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His belt buckle was already undone, and she diligently opened his jeans. He helped by lifting his hips to push them down so his cock sprang free. I had no idea, but it seemed he didn’t like underwear either. He was hard, thick and eager for Sam. I wasn’t into his dick; I was into how Sam was going to look when she took it into her, getting that pussy opened for the first time.
I wasn’t jealous it wasn’t going to be me. Everything we did in this office was her first time. She’d know both of our dicks, always.
SAM
* * *
Oh. My. God. This was not how I imagined it. Not at all. I knew the biology of it. Arousal. Penis in vagina. Ejaculation. I envisioned missionary position. A bed. Dimmed lights. Thrusting. Grunting. Sweat.
So far I’d done none of those things with Mac or Hardin. And I’d come twice.
Hardin tore open the condom wrapper with his teeth. “Watch and learn how to put one on and then you can do Mac’s when it’s his turn.”
I bit my lip, tried not to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Hardin asked, pausing with the condom between his fingers.
“I never do anything normally. I mean, what woman sleeps with two men?”
“Not many,” Mac agreed. He was standing as he had in the ER, hand at the base of his dick.
“Exactly. And for a first time? I’m realizing I’ll never be normal.”
“Good,” Mac said. “Normal is fucking boring.”
“Or boring fucking,” Hardin countered, then got busy with the condom.
I paid close attention as he unrolled it a little to make a reservoir at the tip, then set it at the crown of his massive cock. It was huge. Thicker than Mac’s, the coloring darker. I watched as he gripped the base, unrolled the prophylactic to cover it completely.
“You said you’ve never been on a horse, but it’s time to go for a ride,” Hardin said.
“You want me to be on top?”
“You set the pace, take all the time you need.”
“But—”
“She’s thinking too much,” Mac said, and I turned to look at him. He only arched a brow, daring me to argue.
Hardin crooked a finger. “Come here.”
I leaned
down and kissed him. His tongue found mine and got busy. At some point he’d moved my hands to the arm of the couch. “Up,” he said.
I frowned but did as he said. Leaning forward, my breasts were right in his face. He cupped them gently, pressed them, kneaded them and then began to play with the nipples. God, I loved his mouth, his fingers. It was like slightly painful magic.
I forgot Mac was watching. I forgot we were in the back of an auto shop. I forgot who I was. I just felt.
I began to shift, wanting more. Needing it.
I gasped when I felt fingers on my pussy, stroking over the swollen flesh.
“She’s wet. So fucking wet,” Mac murmured.
I began to wiggle, wanting him to do something. “Please,” I begged.
He dipped a finger inside of me, and I gasped, clenching down on it. I knew that was nothing compared to what Hardin had between his legs, but I liked it. I craved it.
