Page 101 of Joey

Huck presses his cock up to my entrance and then, without hesitation or warning, he thrusts inside me.

I sit up, gasping with the shock of pain, but his hand is firmly between my shoulder blades.

Wald grabs my face. Both hands on both cheeks, and looks me in the eyes. “You’re OK,” he says. “You’re OK.”

And I am.

Then he kisses me as Huck goes even deeper. And Joey leans back a little, giving himself more room to thrust his hips up to meet Huck.

I have had two men inside me.

But I have never had anyone like this.

Huck retracts as Joey thrusts. And a rhythm forms. One pulling out, one pushing in.

The feelings are indescribable. And then Wald is twisting my breast and guiding my face down to his cock.

And I can’t wait. I can’t wait to put him in my mouth. I need it. I need it now or I will scream.

I scream anyway.

But it’s muffled by his dick sliding towards my throat.

I lose time. I lose myself. I lose all sense of the world around me. There is nothing but a long, dark, narrow tunnel of dirty, filthy sex.

I want that dark.

I want that tunnel.

I want all the dirty, filthy sex.

And they give it to me.

I know we come. I know this because eventually we’re a heap of satiated bodies lying across the large sectional couch.

All sweaty and breathing heavy.

All tangled up and tied together.

And then the darkness fades into the light of a new day dawning.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - JOEY

The Kane family estate isn’t that far from our lake house. It’s not in that neighborhood or that village, and there’s no lake. At least as far as I know. They own three hundred acres, so there could be a lake.

It’s deep in the hilly countryside. And after we get off the highway we take many narrow, winding roads that have so many tall, old trees lining them that the canopy of leaves starts to feel a little claustrophobic.

Of course there is a gate and a small house to go with it. And of course a whole team of security surrounds Wald’s truck as we pull up.

He’s driving, so he slides the window down and says, “Wald Wynn, Huck Newtown, Joey Boston, and Brooke Alder to see Miss Maisy Kane.” Snapping off our names and purpose without a single pleasantry.

The guy listening to Wald asks for our IDs. We hand them over and he disappears into the small house.

Wald slides the window back up.

“Jesus Christ,” I say. “Do they really need eight men with automatic weapons surrounding our truck?”

I’m sitting in back with Brooke, so Wald meets my eyes in the rear-view mirror. “Do you even know who we are?”