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The image of Riddick’s, or Ryan’s thick cock ramming into me flashes through my mind and I moan. I bet that would feel amazing, much more intense. Much more satisfying.
Especially if it’d feel just as amazing for them.
Which reminds me that Riddick still hasn’t come. He writhes when I suck his cock back into my mouth, and groans when I let my tongue toy with the barbell.
Yeah, like that. This sound, of pure and agonizing pleasure.
The knowledge I am the one making him lose control.
He comes suddenly, a salty-bitter gush against my tongue, and I jerk back, letting it spray my boobs and belly. Panting, I gaze down at the white streaks, then at his softening cock.
“Fuck,” Riddick wheezes, his hands on my hips going slack, his head thumping back on the cushions. “That was…”
“A ten?” I ask sweetly. I feel like laughing, from the sense of accomplishment—making Riddick come so hard he can’t find the words—and from the pleasure still coursing through my body. I feel… heavy and yet light, like I’m floating. A heavy cloud, full of rain, wandering in the sky.
“A ten,” he agrees, and his cock twitches again in my hand, trickling more white fluid.
More cum, Bry. The boys are right. Call the things by their names. Cum. Cock. Fuck. God, I want them to fuck me.
This is insane.
I climb off, turning to see Riddick’s face, grinning when I see his blissed-out expression and lax features. He looks like he’s ready to drop off to sleep.
And Ryan… He’s stopped jerking off, kneeling there gorgeous and still aroused, his cock jutting out between his muscled thighs, his hands propped on the rug behind him. His eyes are closed, his head bowed.
“Hey.” I crawl to him, cup his face in my hands. “I thought you were watching us.”
He blinks, his golden lashes sweeping low, then up. Such pretty eyes. Kind of blank right now, though.
“I’m okay,” he says absently, which is a weird reply.
“Good to know.”
He seems to focus on me finally, and a smile tugs at his mouth. “Not freaking out yet?”
“No.” Strangely enough, I’m not. I love being with them. I love touching them, sharing pleasure with them. I think I might be getting addicted to them.
I poke that thought.
Still not freaking out.
I move between his legs, caress his hard-on, loving the shiver going through him. “Need help with this?”
“You offering?”
I tighten my hold, dragging my hand up, then pulling down. I’m a quick study, what can I say. I’m rewarded by his lips parting, his eyes losing focus again.
“Oh fuck, yeah…” His voice breaks on a moan, his big hand coming to fold over mine, speeding up my movements. “Like that.”
I kiss him as we both work his dick, and the feel of it, so thick and hard in my hand, is doing things to me I never thought possible. My body is responding as if we’re actually really fucking—as if he’s fucking me with his cock—and my pussy is pulsing maddeningly.
Again that feeling of emptiness, of needing to be filled.
I kiss him harder, to silence my thoughts.
His hand is bruising mine, giving his cock long, hard tugs, his mouth going slack against mine. “Holy shit, babe…”
His cock jerks, spilling heat over our joined hands, his release painting over Riddick’s all over my boobs, scorching streams of cum.
