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Lucas snarled under his breath, letting off a string of curses. When he slammed into me again, it was as if he was trying to prove a point. I cried out his name, and Manson roughly reached up and shoved the gag a little deeper into my mouth.
Orgasm was so close...so painfully, desperately close. My eyes rolled back as I submitted to the pleasure, focusing on it, relishing every pulse of heat deep inside me. Manson pinched one of my nipples between his thumb and forefinger, tight enough to hurt.
“Control yourself, angel,” he said. “Prove you can be good for me.”
I could have shed tears from how badly I wanted to come. But even more than my own pleasure, I wanted to obey. The satisfaction of pleasing him, obeying him, would be far greater than a few seconds of bliss.
But I wasn’t the only one struggling. Lucas’s desperation grew, his words running together as he said, “Fuck, Manson, please let me come, please, I can’t fucking take it.”
Manson’s laughter at Lucas’s begging made me shiver as I floated in a daze. Manson’s cock throbbed inside me, swelling. He shuddered, groaning as he came with short, jerking thrusts inside me.
Lucas’s eyes were squeezed shut, his lips moving in some silent mantra as he barely maintained his self-control. Clenching my teeth around the cloth filling my mouth, I tried to turn my mind to something else —anythingelse — that would keep me from coming.
But it was impossible to ignore how they felt. My nails dug into Manson’s arm as I gripped him, sobbing his name even though he couldn’t understand me. Lucas met my eyes for a moment, and I saw my own desperation mirrored back.
When Manson spoke, his voice was tired, words coming slowly. “All right, pup. You can come.”
Lucas almost sobbed in relief, as if Manson’s permission alone had been holding him back. His cock pulsed inside me, throbbing as he pumped me full. He curled over me, resting his forehead against my shoulder. His heart was pounding, as was Manson’s; I could feel them beating almost in unison as they held me between them.
“Good girl,” Manson said, kissing the side of my face as he pulled the gag from my mouth and tossed it away. “Such a good girl, Jess. Lucas.” The other man barely raised his head, turning it just enough to look at Manson. “Good boy. You did so well. I knew you could keep going for me.”
Lucas buried his face against my neck and shoulder with a softly murmured, “Thank you, sir.” I gently scratched my nails over the back of his scalp, and he sighed at my touch. My body was pulsating with desire, shaking from how close I’d ridden the edge of oblivion.
But I’d been a good girl. I’d been obedient. And that satisfied something far deeper than physical need.
8 - Vincent
Ididn’t open my eyesuntil 10am. When I did, it was only so I could roll over, reach for Jason lying beside me, and drag him closer so I could go back to sleep.
My natural state was laziness. I firmly believed humans were meant to spend their days lying in the sun, eating fruit, drinking booze, and fucking. It broke my little anarchist heart to be twirling along like another cooperative cog in the system, working long hours and paying taxes. But my primary system was my family and that was what I was invested in. I worked for them, for a better life for us.
A life where we did lay around all day, eating fruit, drinking booze, and fucking.
When I woke again, it was because Jason had flung his shirt at me as he dressed.
“Wake up, you lazy bastard! Come on.” He smacked my ass, and I groaned but didn’t move, continuing to lie there with his shirt over my head. “Dude, we’ll miss the whole day if we sleep anymore.”
