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I’m exhausted. It’s all the super badass sex. How’s a girl to think straight after that? DP, baby. Double penetration.
Badass.
God, my life is turning into a serial. Into the serial. Only on steroids.
Sandwiched between my super boys who are watching a wrestling match on TV, I feel warm and drowsy and comfortable and…cherished. I have my head on Joel’s lap and my feet on Jethro’s, and I listen to them talk.
They’re still naked. Joel’s muscular thigh is dusted with fine hairs. I trail my hand to his knee, and he twitches.
I grin.
My boys have been devouring stacks of waffles and commenting on the match with their mouths full. Is it weird that I find that cute?
It is weird. God.
And I can’t keep from stroking Joel’s knee, the muscles shifting under my hand. My eyes are closing. Figures that I’d fall asleep with my fantasy boyfriends, while they’re wide awake and could probably go for round two… or is it three?
Could my ass get any more pounding? Will I be able to walk tomorrow? Should I buy a butt plug? Should I wander around wearing it, is that a thing when you have two boyfriends?
Damn, I hate how philosophical I get when I’m tired.
And should I ask them if they are my boyfriends now? Does taking it in the ass constitute the foundation of a steady relationship? Should I wait until Joel also taps my ass before I ask? Should we do everything twice, in reversed positions?
God, I’m wiped out. But I like Joel’s hand rubbing my back, and Jethro massaging my ankles and feet. Mmmm…
“Love that,” I mumble. “Love you, guys. What we did earlier… oh man.”
Jethro chuckles. “She’s fucking out of it.”
“We fucked you senseless, didn’t we, girl?” Joel runs his fingers through my hair and I purr. “You liked it, though.”
I nod, although it wasn’t a question. I thought it was obvious. Weren’t my invocations of God, Joel and Jet clear hints? Or the way I gripped their cocks inside me, almost crushing them to pulp as I came?
Come on.
“I didn’t hurt you?” Jethro asks, and warmth seeps into my face—and my heart.
“You’d never hurt me,” I tell him and twist around, trying to see his face. His eyes are stormy as he hauls me up until I’m seated between them, and I plop my heavy head on his shoulder. “Neither of you would, or could. I wanted this, with both of you. Have wanted you for so long.”
“You’ve said that before.” Joel twines a lock of my hair around his fist, and sniffs it. “How long, then? You make it sound like a long time.”
He just sniffed my hair. He’s so cute…
“Years,” I whisper. “Many years. Too damn long. I…”
A hush falls on the room. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. The noise from the TV is suddenly too loud.
What have I said?
Oh holy shit. What have I done? Shitshitshit.
I scramble off the sofa, dodging their hands reaching for me, knowing that if they catch me, I’ll have to stay and explain. Tell them about my years-long crush on them. My fantasies with them.
God, the blog. No, I’m never telling them about that.
Muttering a lame excuse about having to check on my roommate, I grab my clothes, jump into them and run out of their apartment.
As I climb into an Uber and head home, I bury my face in my hands and blink back tears. Maybe I shouldn’t have run. I mean, what’s wrong with a crush, huh?
