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in me the same way at the same time. It’s a mission. I have to do it.
Jack pulls out, and starts again. This is smooth and yet excruciating. Like trying to reach a height on a playground swing. Not quite getting there, trying again. Pumping your legs so that you could swing ever higher.
And yet, it’s going to happen. I feel Chance get a little deeper. I move my hips when he is at the breach, corkscrewing slightly to wedge him past that tight ring. And when his head finally pops past it, I hear him gasp.
Doesn’t pull out all the way the next time that Jack does, but waits for my body to adjust around him. Jack thrusts twice more against my tongue before Chance begins the same motion. They sync up. It is glorious.
I have two men fucking my body. Jack in my mouth, Chance in my pussy. Every stroke is deeper. Every stroke fills me to bursting. I want it all. I’m a vacuum. I have voids that need to be filled. I am all hunger.
Faster and faster, they work my holes with their huge, throbbing cocks until I am beginning to shudder. I feel it coming. I feel myself turning to light, turning to fireworks. I’m so overwhelmed with sensation that when it starts, I hear myself screaming.
Then I hear them, roaring, unleashing a tidal wave of come into my mouth and pussy at the same time. I force myself to look, to see the glory of what is happening. It’s amazing. It doesn’t even look real. All three of our bodies silhouetted in the mirror, rocking and convulsing and thrusting and arching together. Muscles and sinewy limbs and hair and sound… It’s magnificent.
Jack’s come overflows my mouth and he pulls out sheepishly, sliding to the side while he reaches down to cradle my head under his arm. I swallow as much as I can and he wipes away the rest before it gets in my hair.
Chance empties himself into me, digging his fingers into my thighs. I don’t even care. I can’t feel pain. All I feel is satisfaction. Bone-deep.
The room is filled with the sound of our heavy, labored breathing for a long time. The air-conditioning blows a refreshing arctic mist across our naked skin.
I hear a sound, and it takes me a second to realize it’s Chance. He’s laughing. It’s a low, deep rumble in his chest that shakes his shoulders.
“Okay, yeah…” he finally says, leaning over to me from where he’s lying on the mat, biting my waist lightly between his teeth.
“Yeah what?” Jack asks, confused.
“Yeah… That was a pretty fucking good idea.”
We all laugh, a sound that we’ve waited maybe ten years to hear. It was worth waiting for, yes. But I am mystified that we didn’t start before now.
Chapter 16
Chance
Standing in front of my closet, I suddenly realize that I have been here for a long time looking at the exact same clothes.
Probably doesn’t matter what I wear, right? After all, it’s not like a date. She lives here. I will see her every day. And tomorrow. And the day after that.
And having her around is fantastic. I’ve seen her in pajamas and bathing suits, shorts and jeans and even a cute little summer dress thing. It’s so nice. She just sort of pops up at the edge of my vision from time to time, like a sprite in a video game.
Insatiably gorgeous, unrelentingly sexy. I live for the moments where I could see her do that thing where she throws her head back, tipping it to one side as she gasps or moans. That’s what I am always trying to get to. Just that one moment where I know she is so close to coming as she rides my fingers or my dick… Or Jack works her nipples until she moans like a animal. I adore it. I am obsessed with it. Just thinking about it now has me hard as a rock.
So what should I wear?
Something easy to get out of, that’s for sure.
I hear movement in the house, the sound of dishes. It’s lunchtime, and I know she is going to put the boys down for the afternoon nap. That means she is going to have some free time.
Every day, that is prime afternoon delight scheduling. The sun is out, the hot tub is right there. Or the gym. Or the kitchen. Or her room, my room, or Jack’s room. We have so many options. The boys sleep for about forty-five minutes to an hour. Pretty much perfect.
And it gives us all time to recover for whatever kind of trouble we can get into later in the evening.
Okay, track pants and a T-shirt. I mean it’s not very original, but it seems to work. I can be stripped down to nothing in half a second, so this is definitely my best option.
I get dressed, painfully aware of how heavy my balls are in the track pants. They rub against the nylon fabric, slightly ticklish where I trimmed my ball hair. Chelsea seems to like a decent amount of manscaping, so I spent some time on YouTube learning how to do it.
Nobody ever asked before, but it does make my dick look fucking huge.
As I come out of my room, Jack comes out of his. He raises his eyebrows at me in acknowledgment. Yes. We are live-in stalkers. No point in denying it.
