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“I need more,” I said to them, loving the sensation of having three pairs of hands on me, but needing to be filled, to ride them all until my thirst for them was quenched.
“Come here, Val,” Derek said and guided me to the red couch in the dressing room, undoing his pants quickly. When I sank down over him, I sank straight down over his hard, thick cock, impaling myself perfectly around him.
“Fuck, it feels better than I thought it would,” I moaned as Diesel sat down beside Derek, drawing my face to his.
“Imagine if two of us were inside of you, Val,” Diesel whispered to me, drawing my languid eyes to his as he slid his thumb over my bottom lip and into my mouth. “Imagine sucking us while you’re getting fucked, little sister.”
If I’d had half a brain cell left, I might have told him to not call me that, but it was fucking hot the way he said it and my brain was empty of cells. I nodded while I sucked at his thumb. Mr. Thomas came up beside me, as naked as I was, and placed my hand around something hot, hard, but oh so smoothly silky. I knew it was his cock and that made my walls pulse around Derek. I groaned as I began to move on him, his hands on my hips guiding me to take more of him, to take all of him.
“Fuck, I can’t believe you can take all of me, Val,” Derek hissed between clenched teeth. My mouth was full so I couldn’t answer, but I gave him my breasts, something to fill his mouth with.
Derek sucked my right nipple into his mouth hard, trapping it in liquid heat that nearly burned, but it was such a good burn. The kind that makes your pussy pulse, especially when a pair of hands reaches between your thighs to stroke your clit at the same time.
I moaned around Diesel’s thumb, listening to the sounds around me, the groans, the cries that couldn’t be stopped, feeling every sound as another touch on my skin as the ache within built into something that threatened to blow me apart. I moved my left hand down, seeking to fill it with Diesel’s cock. The need to make them all come was as powerful as my own urge to get off.
“You want me dick, Val? I’ll let you have it, baby,” Diesel said, getting up to walk behind the couch to slide his cock between my lips. Mr. Thomas slid his fingers down my abdomen to settle between my folds, finding my clit like he was an expert. I gasped and felt myself clench around Derek, who groaned beneath me as my walls clamped down around him.
Once I’d caught a rhythm, the room filled with the sounds of our pleasure, groaning in time together, our sweat-soaked skin gliding together perfectly, as the sounds of three men being pleasured by me blew my brain. I felt the orgasm start and clenched my eyes shut, feeling the warning pulse of Derek’s cock within me. He was about to blow with me. I gripped at someone, anyone, feeling my breath catch in my chest as the waves crashed over me. Derek’s grip on my hips tightened and he held me to him as he growled his release, filling me deep with his hot juice.
My eyes flew open, expecting to see Diesel over me, thrusting his cock into my mouth, but I saw only darkness as my fingers moved between my legs. I couldn’t stop, even when I realized it had all been a delicious dream.
I fought to go back to sleep, to return to their embrace, but I had to settle for memory, for fantasy. I circled my clit, wishing for so much more but unable to have it. My walls clenched again, empty this time, but the orgasm finally came to life and flooded through my system as pleasure along my nerves. I gasped in the privacy of my own home, moaned as the satisfying pulse between my legs made my hips dance and my back arch.
I sank back to reality with a shuddering sigh.
Once my heart had calmed and I could breathe normally again, I stared up at my black ceiling, a flare of frustration washing over me. That didn’t stop me from wishing, for a moment, that I could be normal. I didn’t want a house with a family, a two-car garage, and a mortgage that I’d still be paying when the kids left home and my husband found a younger woman to keep his bed warm.
I’d been to so many weddings when I was a kid it wasn’t funny. Everyone had wanted me to be their flower girl, and I had been. Years later, I watched with sad tears as Diesel’s aunt was abandoned by her husband. And then there were all the men at the club that complained about how boring their wives were, how they weren’t as sexy and beautiful as they once were.
Nope, marriage wasn’t in the cards for me, not when marriage seemed to be more about the party for most folks now than it was about a commitment. So many of Dad’s friends had left their wives for younger women that it wasn’t funny. They’d done me a favor though, they made me realize that the whole thing was not for me.
I wanted pleasure, I wanted happiness, to explore what the world had to offer. I was broken, and always had been. I guess my mom dying when I was two proved that, for me. Even when you had ‘real love’, life came along to fuck you over. I was fucked up beyond all belief since I lost my mom, and I knew it. That was one of the things that made me silent from the time the fantasies had started up to now. Getting close to someone might mean revealing the secrets that I couldn’t share with anyone. Secrets that would reveal how truly messed up I really was.
Getting close might mean I’d expose myself, and I simply could not do that. I’d learned to live alone, without the kind of companionship that so many other people seemed to need. It kept me sane in a world that didn’t make any sense to me at all. It made enough sense for me to know that I was some kind of freakish outlier that needed to keep her legs closed and her mouth shut.
I’d had a few trysts in my time, a boyfriend for a short time in high school, and a few romps with more than willing clients outside of the bar had proved…delightful but still disappointing. And I knew that was because none of those men had ever starred in my fantasies. They couldn’t compete with fiction and that wasn’t their fault. It was just another tick on the checklist of what the fuck was wrong with me.
Rolling over, I grabbed at my phone, charging on the nightstand. I wanted to talk to someone, but it was five am. Nobody I knew would be awake right now. Or shouldn’t be. Derek might still be awake, taking care of some kind of business at the club or for his motorcycle club. He’d answer the phone if I called, but I’d hear the anger in his voice when I told him why I’d called. I’d hear how pathetic he thought I was, and I couldn’t take that. I wouldn’t hear the sweet whispers of a lover, or the assurances that he’d come to my house right away to pleasure me. I’d hear him swear at me, more than likely, and then he’d probably tell me dad, and fuck no. No thank you, indeed, I could live without the humiliation.
I put a podcast on instead of calling anyone, and rolled onto my right side, facing the window. For a second, I thought I saw a shadow there, but then remembered the tree that needed trimming.
With one last deep sigh, I closed my eyes, focused on the podcast, and waited for sleep to reclaim me. Maybe the dream would start back up and I could have the men I wanted, even if it wasn’t reality. I had to take what I could get. I was used to it by now.
