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Their eyes are on me. I can feel them. Heated gazes. Hungry stares. Desire.
The atmosphere is thick with it.
I should stop him. The thought tickles the edge of my consciousness as his tongue strokes into my mouth, but I don’t. His hand moves to the inside of my thigh, easing my legs apart, stroking up and down, each time getting closer to touching where I’m aching.
A tinkle of laughter travels from the nearest house, a contrast to utter silence surrounding me.
They’re looking, watching. They’re seeing everything.
And the knowledge is like a flame to fall-dry leaves.
“Good girl,” Carson whispers across my lips as his fingers move beneath my flimsy panties and pull them aside.
Then he turns his head and asks. “Who’s next on the list?”
Whoever it is scrapes their chair noisily, and my heart thuds with anticipation. A kiss is pressed to my ankle and the inside of my knee. “Are you okay with this?” It’s Jimmy but his voice is different. Lower. Huskier. Uncertain.
I don’t know. My inhibitions are deeply rooted, but Carson’s rewired me.
“Yes.”
The response comes from a place deep inside. Not my mind. Not my heart. The part of me that craves but so rarely ever gets listened to. My mind screams that this is crazy. This behavior isn’t me. My heart squeezes, worried about mixed-up feelings, anxious about what effect this might have on my place in the group and the task I have to complete.
But the craving part reaches out for Jimmy, finding his warm face, thumb grazing his lips. He nips at my flesh as Carson licks into my mouth and I’m lost in sensation, drowning in the heat of two men.
Jimmy doesn’t need a more formal invitation to bend his head between my thighs and kiss my clit. Carson’s hand is still wrapped around my panties and he keeps it there, giving Jimmy the access that he needs. Carson’s still in control, even though Jimmy has the prime position.
Jimmy knows what he needs to do, or maybe I’m just buzzing from the knowledge that eight men are watching his tongue flick against my sensitized flesh. When my pussy squeezes tight from pleasure, Jimmy presses his fingers to my entrance. I think it’s two. It feels like two, curved perfectly to reach the little bundle of nerves that makes me want to grunt every time he hits it. His tongue continues circling but then he says, “That’s it, baby. Can you take another finger?”
“She can.” Carson replies for me, staring into my eyes as he does. “She can take four. Maybe five. With work she could take a whole fist.” He sounds proud, but I gasp, the image of him pressing his fist inside me too far over the line.
Jimmy adds another finger, and the stretch is like cherry liquor dripping onto my tongue. I allow my legs to flop open wider as he adds a fourth. I’m so wet. The sound of him pumping into my flesh is all that can be heard. My hips have a life of their own, rising to chase more contact, and Jimmy’s heavy hand presses against my belly, fixing me in place so he can suck on my clit, forcing brilliant white pleasure that’s so sensitive I cry out. Carson strokes my hair, his eyes so close to mine that the spread of his pupils is visible even in the darkness. “See what it feels like,” he says. “To let go. To not worry about what the consequences of your actions might be. To not hear anyone else’s disapproving words in your mind. It’s like a drug.”
I whimper as Jimmy’s tongue becomes more persistent and his fingers rougher.
“Do you want his cock?” Carson asks, brushing the tip of his nose across mine.
He’s so close he obliterates anything else. There’s just me and him. No, that’s not quite right. It’s just Carson. Jimmy and I are dangling puppets within his total control.
The other men are the audience, waiting for a climax to a show they didn’t buy tickets for.
I hold Carson’s face tightly between my palms. “Why?” I whisper.
I don’t mean why is he asking me if I want Jimmy’s cock. I mean, why does he want this? Why does he need this?
Is it about control? He had me and now he doesn’t want anyone else to unless he’s directing…unless he’s giving permission?
“Ten fucks in your bedroom aren’t going to give you the experience you’re looking for, Allie. You want to know what sex can be like. You want your buffet of flavors. Well, this is it.”
Oh, it’s about me?
I think it’s about both of us.
But he’s right. If I’m breaking self-imposed barriers, I might as well trample them to the ground. If self-discovery was for the fainthearted, we’d all be experts by now rather than just muddling through.
“Don’t take it too far,” a voice warns from the gloom. I’m not sure who it is, but Carson doesn’t even flinch.
“Is it too far?”
