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My back is to Rev. I’ve been cagey about letting anyone see my scars, but Rev spent a lot of time gently rubbing my back last night. His touch made me feel lovely, cherished. I am scarred. I will always be scarred. But that doesn’t affect how these guys feel about me. I don’t have to be ashamed about something someone did to me. These scars are not who I am. So, I don’t mind Rev seeing them. Instead, my focus is on the stubborn leader of Eagle Peak.
“Take it out,” I tell Jud as I crawl on top of his desk. When I reach the edge, I make a fist in his T-shirt and kiss his smirking lips. Then I lower my front half like a panther getting a drink of water from a riverbank. “I want to see what’s mine.”
I’m doing this to prove a point, but it’s no sacrifice. I’m already salivating at the thought of seeing his penis again. I can’t wait to get my hands on it. To suck on it and hear the sounds he makes when I do that. I’m learning that all my guys have different scents and tastes, and each one is an explosion of perfection to my senses.
Jud is leaning back arrogantly in his chair, legs spread, arms folded, and generally just being Jud. His penis is zipped up tight, but it’s not happy about it. It punches at the thick fabric of his Carhartts.
I narrow my eyes. My hands curl around his edge of the desk. The wood is hard and cool on my knees. Being naked on all fours like this makes me feel vulnerable. But I also feel powerful. The hunger in Jud’s eyes gives me confidence, and Rev’s presence on the couch spurs me on, especially when, out of the corner of my eye, I catch him adjusting the impressive package between his legs.
Jud is being irritating, but I’m going to make him feel good. I’m going to do it with Rev in the room, because I want Jud to see how good it can be. Me having the freedom to be with any of my guys any time I want is a good thing for everybody. It can work. It can befun.
And, honestly, I think I need it. Today has been one of the very best days of my life. I feel like myself again, like the Cora I was always meant to be. Claiming my agency has been freeing. Now, I just need Jud to get on the same page.
“I’m waiting.” I look pointedly at his crotch.
“It’s yours. You want it, you take it out.” He’s such a pain in the butt, but I’m not deterred. Being in charge of a group of hard, strong men means he has to be the hardest and strongest. I haven’t forgotten how sweet he can be when we’re alone, or how haunted he can look sometimes when he doesn’t know I’m watching him. He deserves this fun as much as I do, and if he agrees to give me more freedom, he can enjoy this kind of fun more often. So can the others.
He wants me to take out what’s mine? “Fine.” I only have one hand to work with, since I have to brace myself on the desk with the other. It’s awkward, but I manage to pop the button. The zipper is another matter. I struggle with it, but it’s not budging. There’s a thick log of man-meat deforming what should be a straight, relaxed line.
At my huff of frustration, Rev says, “Try using your teeth.”
I glance at him and find him with his penis jutting from his open jeans, one hand wrapped lazily around its base. He nods his encouragement and follows with a wink.
Okay. I can do this.
I remember being at a slumber party with some of my high school girlfriends and trying to tie a knot in a cherry stem using nothing but my mouth to prove my kissing prowess. I could not do it. But I’ve gotten to enjoy a lot of actual kissing in the past few days. Maybe my mouth has gotten more talented. I put it to the test and try to unleash the Judge’s hammer. In my head, I chuckle at the phrase.
Judge’s Hammer.
Smiling to myself, I realize I’ve just named what’s mine.
But Jud doesn’t get to hear the name. Not when he’s being obnoxious.
I keep it to myself and devote my entire being to the task at hand.
I move my bracing hand to Jud’s strong thigh. He tenses it for me for extra stability, showing me that, despite his attitude, he’s on board with this afternoon’s extracurricular activity. With my other hand, I get a firm hold on the top of the placket of his Carhartts, where I already popped the button. The stiff fabric helps me here. It’s easy to tug it up and force the zipper into an almost straight line. Again, Jud helps by flexing his abs, tightening things up so I have as much room as possible to work with.
I bend forward, my butt way higher than my head, and bring my mouth in close. Very close. My face is in Jud’s business, and I like it. Correction, Iwilllike it once I have this fabric out of the way. Using my tongue and teeth, I seek out the cool metal tab of the zipper and get a firm grip on it. Surprisingly, as I pull back, the zipper releases, bit by bit.
Once I’ve opened his fly far enough, I see my thick Hammer aggressively stretching Jud’s black boxer briefs. It only takes one hand to yank the band of the underwear down and then I’m being smacked in the face by a heavy, heavenly-smelling member.
Oh,yum.
Jud’s Hammer is simply perfection. I can’t wait. I dive down, taking as much of it as I can.
Immediately, he groans. It’s a throaty, growly sound, and it makes me feel like I’m taming a wild animal. Big hands surround my head and hold me in place, not too firmly, but just rough enough to add to the thrill spiraling through me.
My jaw is a little sore as I slide up and down on Jud. I’ve been performing this sexual act a lot today. It’s a good soreness. It’s a soreness that I own, just like my agency, and I love it. I enjoy the stretch and the mild ache, because I earned it by making my guys feel good. And I’ve gotten plenty of good feelings in return.
I want every day to be like this, but it needs to be Jud’s call. He’s the leader. He’s also the most concerned about fairness. It’s up to me to show him that I can be fair. But can he learn to share?
My pussy is wet. Being in this position makes me ultra-aware of it because my heated, moist skin is being kissed by cool air. The sensation makes me clench, needing somethingthere.
I come off of Hammer just long enough to find Rev over my shoulder. He’s stroking himself roughly and watching my pussy like it holds all the answers to the universe.
Making eye contact with him, I wiggle my butt in the air. “Give me a hand?”
“Gladly,” is his answer, and then he’s behind me, jeans open, putting his hands to good use. They smooth over my butt, my back. He rubs all the way up to my neck, and to reach that far, even with his long arms, he has to press up against me. I feel himthere—I feel the scratch of parted denim and the smooth, hot brand of his penis on the chilled skin of my cheeks.
