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“We can be very discreet. It’ll be our secret, if you like,” he added. “Why not have some fun, huh?”
“Why not,” she whispered. Hard male thighs pressed against her hips, rough male hands stroked her face and torso. Her body was completely ensconced, locked between theirs, and it was overwhelming—a rush she’d never before experienced. Dropping her head back against the wall of the truck, she savoured it, locking that moment into her memory forever. She shifted, giddy with arousal, her legs turning weak under her. Deacon held her around the waist with one powerful arm and she could tell how easy it was for him to steady her, he was so strong.
A car drove by, headlights flashing along the lay-by quietening them for a moment. They were shielded behind the truck, and that was significant. They were offering her sexual fulfilment, fun, and pleasure. If she wanted, it could remain a secret. Part of her was reassured by that, but part of her—a long buried part—thought about shucking discretion off. It felt good being with the pair of them at the party. How decadent it would be to go on a date for three. When she was a teenager, over a decade before and back in the days before she got weighted down by business protocol and society expectations, she was a rebel and a prankster. That buried part of her identified with the idea of nonconformity, the blatant deviance of taking two lovers at the same time.
The passing car had gone and all was quiet again, but for the sounds of insects humming low in the undergrowth. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“You don’t want to do this?” There was a serious question in Deacon’s tone. He had her pinned against the side of the truck, her hands captured in one strong fist, but he still wanted her to feel safe, and she appreciated that.
“I do want to, I really do.” The breathless confession took with it her last bit of resistance and she became boneless and fluid in their hands, willing to own this moment with these two men that she barely knew.
Vico reached under her dress and stroked her, plucking at the G-string.
She whimpered and shuffled on her heels. “You have condoms?” she asked, heat traversing her body as she put that out there, sealing the deal.
They both nodded. Vico turned her to face the truck, and unzipped her dress. She wasn’t wearing a bra and she felt the dress loosening around her breasts and her nipples tingled and burned, the brush of fabric across them too tantalising.
He let the dress drop and it pooled around her ankles. She stepped out of it. Purring softly when she saw their expressions, she gestured at them. "Your turn…if I’m going to be in a state of undress in a lay-by, you are too.”
Vico nodded. “I like your style.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head, muscled torso rippling as he did so, and then looked at Deacon expectantly as he tossed the T-shirt aside. “Come on, big guy.”
Deacon flashed him a look that made Astrid wonder again if they were lovers. Vico seemed to be teasing Deacon. Nevertheless, Deacon stripped to the waist, shooting Vico another glance as he did so.
Vico gestured towards the picnic area. He was always ready to lead, it seemed, but she sensed that Deacon was willing to follow if she was. Adrenaline pumped in her veins and she took his hand and together they crossed the grass, walking quickly between the empty picnic tables. Deacon was close at her back and it felt as if they were in their own private playground, and that was so liberating.
Vico stopped by a picnic table at the edge of the area that was obscured from the road by the trees, but lit by moonlight. “Here, I would like to taste you here on this table. I think Deacon would too.”
Astrid’s breath hitched, a shiver going through her. Edging her bottom against the table, she was glad when Deacon assisted her. He pulled her G-string down and squatted in front of her as he slid the fabric over her hips and down the length of her legs, drawing a loud gasp from her mouth. He wrapped his hand around one ankle, encouraging her to step out. She did so, watching as he tucked the G-string into his jeans pocket as he stood up.
“For safe keeping,” he explained.
“Good thinking.” She rested back against the wooden table, sitting gingerly onto it.
Vico put his hand on her knee and opened one of her dangling legs to the side. Her bared pussy tingled in the humid night air. He glanced at Deacon, meaningfully. Deacon didn’t hesitate. Moving between her open thighs, he cupped her breasts in his hands, thumbs teasing over nipples, and then eased her upper body back onto the wooden table, the hard bulk at his groin coming to rest over her pussy as he did so.
Looking down at her, he rocked his hips back and forth, letting her feel him. When she moaned, he leant over her and suckled her nipples, one after the other. Her hands closed around his head possessively. Sensation looped from her nipples to her sex and back, locking her whole body to the rough caress of his tongue on her knotted nipple. Then he moved lower, kissing and licking a path down her abdomen to her pussy, where he kissed then bit her playfully, before gently sliding his tongue into her wet groove.
“Christ, you taste good,” he murmured, and lapped at her swollen clit.
Astrid couldn’t respond, she wasn’t able to. Sensation overwhelmed her. Then she felt Vico's hands stroking her flank, and his mouth on her mound. The way she was splayed on the table gave them both access, and she was about to come, so intense was the dual sensation of being kissed and sucked by two mouths. Undulating on the table, her arms opened, her fingers latching around the edges of the table. Her clit burned, her core flexing rhythmically.
“Oh, oh, I’m going to come.” That only encouraged them. Her body arched under their assault, her groin burning up as she hit her peak. Shuddering to release, she felt fingers in her sticky entrance. It was Deacon. Vico had backed off and was standing by, watching. Instinctively her legs lifted, her knees drawing up around his hips. Her body ached to have him inside, to be filled by that erection she’d felt inside his jeans.
“Oh please,” she said, reaching for him.
“I’m right here.” He unzipped his jeans, letting them and his jockey shorts drop.
“Oh,” she murmured, subconsciously, when she got a look at his erection. It was rock hard and ready.
Vico appeared at Deacon’s side and dropped a couple of condom packets onto the table beside her hip. “Looking good, Deacon,” he murmured, staring at Deacon's cock.
“Don’t push it Vico, you wouldn’t want to see me disappoint Astrid here.”
“No, I want to see you show her a really good time.”
There was a sense of tension between them, like a hidden tug of war. She’d been in business long enough to recognise that undercurrent, like an unspoken discussion or agreement. Was it just about the here and now, or something else between them? Whatever it was, it made the vibe in the atmosphere even more sexually edgy and illicit.
Deacon’s hands flickered in the moonlight as he snatched up one of the condom packets and tore it open.
