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“Mm-hmm.”
“You know what you’re really gonna like?” Owen slides his hips back and pushes my shoulders up and my mouth pops off the tip of his thickness.
“W-what?” I stare up at him confused as he gets up from the couch.
“Hey man, flip her around and let her ride you.” Owen nods at Hardy. “It’s about time I fuck that tight little asshole.” He strokes his cock.
Hardy lies back on the floor, turning me around one-hundred-and-eighty degrees, pulling me on top of him. “Oh yeah, sweetheart, you’re so tight. I’m gonna fill your box with all my fucking cum,” he whispers and licks my earlobe. His tongue licks a long line until his lips find my breasts and he practically rips my bra right off of me, tossing it away before suckling on my nipples. Inside, I feel his cock throb and twitch.
The pressure and warmth from Owen’s body presses against my back and his cock strains against my ass. “I don’t think I’m ready for this.” My voice is breathy and full of need. The fact is, I don’t know if I’m ready, but I know I want it.
“I’ll take it slow,” Owen murmurs and presses the head of his cock against my tight hole. It takes a second for my body to open for him, but he keeps pushing slowly but firmly until he sinks inside.
“Oh my God!” I cry out.
“Yeah, how’s that feel?” Hardy smirks up at me. “You like being stuffed with two fat dicks? How about when we fuck you like this.” He thrusts his cock inside deep and I whimper. As he pulls back, Owen buries his dick inside my ass balls deep. They thrust back and forth, owning me, sharing me, each of them making me theirs.
I’ve never felt this overwhelmed, and it’s in the best way. I can feel each of their shafts as they slide their entire lengths inside. I feel Hardy’s lips on my tits and his cock twitch as his cum surges out and fills me. Within seconds, Owen fucks my ass harder. All the restraint he was using is broken, and he grunts loudly as his hot seed spurts inside my asshole. It’s more than I can bear, this is all so wild, so incredibly filthy, and I fucking love it. My own orgasm shreds through me, making me moan like a feral animal up at the ceiling as I rock back and forth on their cocks.
When they pull out of me, I feel empty. I just want to feel both of them again. Their skin on mine. I collapse against Hardy on the floor and Owen lies beside me. Together the three of us are a tangle of arms, legs, and hair as they cradle me in their arms.
The fire keeps us warm and I realize that, for the first time in my life, I don’t care what anyone thinks. I feel safe here. I feel like I don’t have to be ashamed of those naughty thoughts I get, the ones I push away. I don’t have to be perfect or worry about what people think. All I care about is these two men, and all they care about is me.
And that’s all I need.
7
Owen
I flip another pancake on the skillet and listen to it sizzle as the aroma fills the cabin. Outside, Hardy is gathering a sled full of firewood so Mary will be able to stay warm and toasty up here. That is, when the two of us aren’t already keeping her sizzling hot with our body heat. Up in the loft, Mary is slowly pecking at her keyboard. With all of her sighing and long pauses, I’m not sure that her story is going well.
Honestly, I think she just needs to relax a bit. She’s so wound up about this book and this deadline and living up to everyone’s expectations. It was nice to see her give into her true desires last night and just be wild.
The pancake cooks to a perfect golden brown just as Hardy comes back inside, stomping the snow from his boots, his arms piled high with split logs.
“Good timing.” I open the oven door and pull out the plate of pancakes, stacked high and ready to devour.
“What can I say, I’ve got a sixth sense when it comes to food.” He grins.
Without struggling, he kicks off his boots and carries the large pile of wood over next to the fireplace and stacks it up. Upstairs, Mary sighs loudly and slams her laptop shut. She jumps out of the bed and climbs down the ladder, turning to face us with a scowl.
“Ready to eat?” I smile at her but she doesn’t return it. Instead, she glares at us and folds her arms over her chest. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that I can’t write a single word that isn’t pure garbage. I don’t know what happened to me. It’s like something broke inside me.” She starts to slump over, defeated.
