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I slipped the tip of Ryder’s thick cock into me, but Ryder slapped my hand away and turned me onto my side. “Hey,” I said as if I’d been cheated.

The tip of his cock found the rim of my anus and pressed lightly.

“Uh, uh,” I uttered.

Ryder’s hand abandoned my hard nipple. He seized my jaw and turned my head to face him. “Did I ask you a question?” he said, more as a reprimand.

He looked at me with a mix of pain, sadness, and desire. I wet my lips and placed them softly against his. He slipped his tongue in my mouth and found mine, closed his eyes and kissed me while the tip of his cock explored for entry.

Lincoln abandoned my navel to let his mouth trace its way down my belly and to my wet pussy. He flicked my labia playfully with his tongue then slipped it inside me.

I groped blindly for the back of Lincoln’s head and ran my fingers through his hair while Ryder teased the rim of my anus with the tip of his cock.

Ryder pulled away from our embrace. He pushed my head back to expose my neck to his exploring mouth. With his hand on my chin, I rolled my head to find his fingers. I licked the tips and bit down as he tried to pull away.

Lincoln’s mouth left my pussy.

“Don’t stop, Lincoln,” I said.

“Stop? I haven’t even started.”

I closed my eyes and felt him run his tongue quickly up the length of my body stopping shortly at my breast to explore my nipple before taking it in his mouth.

The tip of Ryder’s cock entered my anus and I gasped. “Ryder, it’s too big.”

“Just the tip,” he said, and he pulled out only to re-enter with more insistence.

My mouth searched his hand. I bit into the heel of his palm and moaned. I felt Lincoln’s long hard cock against my leg as he slipped a finger into my gushing snatch.

“Both of you at once,” I said halfway between a question and a command.

“To protect,” said Lincoln as he kissed me lightly, “and serve.” He slid his cock into me, slowly at first then with increasing speed as I opened to him.

I put my hands on his hips and guided him deeper still.

We were startled by the sound of people approaching. Lincoln jumped up and hastened to slip on his clothes.

I reached out to him. “Don’t go,” I said. “They’ll pass us by. Come back.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m a civil servant. I need to be careful.”

Ryder got up too. He took my hand and helped me to my feet. “It’s getting a bit chilly, don’t you think?”

My body was on fire. The only chill I felt was when I was abruptly released from the tight hold of my men.

“We’ll go back to my place,” said Lincoln. “My parents are in Cheyenne for the weekend. We’ve got the place to ourselves.”

Back at Lincoln’s, Ryder made an icepack and held it to his jaw.

“Does it hurt bad?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing serious.” He laid himself down on Lincoln’s bed.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” said Lincoln. “I’m just going to jump in the shower real quick.” He pulled off his T-shirt and tossed it to the floor.

I sat down on his bed. “Come here.”

He walked over to me. I wrapped my arms around his waist and kissed his chest.

“How’d you get this,” I asked and traced the scar that ran from the side of his pecs to his ribs with the tip of my finger.

“I got that jumping over the fence at Smiley’s,” he said and chuckled.

“Why’d you jump over the fence at Smiley’s?” I asked and traced the scar with light kisses on his quivering skin.

“Why?” he repeated. “To get to the other side, of course.”

I pushed him away. “Go take your shower, mister comedian.”

“With your permission,” he bowed and turned for the door.

I thought about following him, but Ryder put a hand lightly on my back. I straightened and sat still, letting his fingers run methodically over my body. I felt as if I were a book written in Braille, delivering a message Ryder would learn and memorize through his touch.

I closed my eyes, and the exhaustion brought on from the day’s events hit me all at once. I fell back, thinking I would land on the cushion of Lincoln’s bed. But it was Ryder’s hands on my shoulders that caught me.

His strong hands, so used to sanding and sculpting, found in me a most pliable material. I offered no resistance—even if I’d wanted to resist, I had no strength left in me to do so. Instead, I surrendered to the instruction of his hands. My muscles, aching from tension and overuse, obeyed his expert manipulations, loosening their compressions and contractions.

He laid me down on the bed and continued his massage down my back, over my legs, to my feet. No inch of me, no muscle or sinew was left unexplored and unneeded.

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