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Since I wasn’t too coordinated with this yet, I had to lean back to drag my finger past his balls and over his hole. Dominic brought his legs up to his chest, opening himself for me. With a trembling finger, I pushed against his hole, slipping the tip inside him. He contracted, gripping my finger, making me moan.
“Lean forward, baby.” Peyton. Again, I forgot he was back there. God, I was terrible at this three-person thing.
His palm pressed between my shoulder blades, easing me forward while my finger pushed farther into Dominic. Peyton’s dick was back against my ass, his palm on one side, his hand holding it between my cheeks as he started to thrust.
“How does he feel, Pey?” Dominic rasped.
“Hot, slick.” Peyton pressed his chest to my back. “Mine,” he growled in my ear, sending a tremor through me. “Remove your finger, Perry. Slide your dick against his hole, not inside.”
I did as he said. What the fuck had I been missing? Dominic in front of me, my dick rubbing near his hole. Peyton at my back, sliding against my ass. Would we fuck like this one day? Or would this be all we got? No, this couldn’t be it. I wouldn’t let it. Something this good had to happen repeatedly.
“I want him in me, Pey,” Dominic whimpered, his hand wrapped around his dick, jerking it fast. “This isn’t enough.”
“Not tonight, vixen. Perry, move so your dick is next to his again. Grip both of you and start stroking.”
With my dick on Dominic’s, me shuttling my hand over us, and Peyton at my back, pushing us all together on every thrust, I was the first one to let go with a soft cry. My orgasm crashed over me with no warning. I shot hard on Dominic, coating him, coating us.
“Yes, fuck, yes, Perry. Don’t stop,” Dominic pleaded.
He came after a couple more strokes, his back arching off the couch, my name on his lips.
“So hot,” Peyton said. “So goddamn beautiful. Fuck, I’m going to come. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Hot cum shot over my back and my ass. Peyton kept rubbing against me, his body shaking with his release.
He pulled away first, falling behind me to the couch, narrowly missing my legs. “Get over here, baby.” He reached for my hips, bringing my back to his chest, sandwiching his cum between us. “I claimed you,” he rumbled in my ear. “How do you feel about that?”
“Utterly debauched,” I panted out, my heart still racing in my chest.
Peyton chuckled. “You still alive, vixen?”
“No,” Dominic said sleepily. “You two killed me.”
“We can’t have that,” I laughed.
The side of my ass was slapped playfully by Peyton. “Come on. Everybody up. Let’s get cleaned off and head home.”
“Home?” Dominic asked.
“Yeah. The fortress. If you think I’m letting you go your way while we go ours after tonight, you’re sorely mistaken. Now let’s get cleaned up and get to bed. Tomorrow’s another day and all our asses need to be at work.”
14
DOMINIC
There was a part of me that was nervous every time I unlocked the door to my apartment. That I’d come in and find my sister similar to how I did a year and a half ago. Unconscious on the ground with an empty bottle of pills near her. When she tried to end her life, she had come over to visit me, hoping I’d be home. I wasn’t. I was dancing at the club. She found a bottle of painkillers I had, but never used, from when I’d hurt my back a while before.
Back then, I danced to earn money for her. To pay her bills. To help my sister. After she came home from the hospital, from an in-patient stay, she moved in with me. But I kept seeing her on the floor. I was so afraid I’d lost her. We moved after that to where we lived now.
Fawn had been depressed since before I moved her away from our parents’ home, which was run-down, where they drank and did drugs. I still didn’t know how the place stood as long as it did, considering the shape it was in. Fawn was eighteen and had graduated high school several months prior when I dragged her from that hellhole. She was a shell of herself. Dirty clothes and skin, barely a hundred pounds. No one had cared for her, and she didn’t care about herself.
Once I got her cleaned and fed, she stayed with me a few months before she was able to stand on her own. She got a job, made enough to rent a small apartment. I hated the area but at eighteen, I couldn’t control her. At the time, I thought her depression was mild since she seemed to be much better away from our parents.
I was wrong.
Things got really bad after about a year of her being on her own. Fawn lost her job. She would show up to work late or wouldn’t be able to do the job she was hired for. Had her landlord threatening to evict her and her deadbeat boyfriend, who she thankfully wasn’t with any longer. She begged me to help her keep her apartment. That it was all she had, her only sense of independence. I knew what it was like growing up how we did. Back when I lived at home, alcohol was the drug of choice for our parents. We were there strictly to serve them. Run to the store. Take my sister to school. They didn’t beat us, but the threats were there. Every day. A hand raised in the air. A well-timed slur. It wasn’t a secret I was gay.
I got out as soon as I could. I hated leaving Fawn, but my dad liked to focus on me more than her. I figured if I could get a job, make enough to pay for her too, I could save her. And I did. But it was almost too late.
The day after I pulled Fawn out of that shit box was one of the happiest of my life because I got her away from them. To this day, we had no idea if they were dead or alive, nor did either of us care.
