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“Do you think that you can get her to squirt?” Rodney asks, his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.
I look over at Rodney. We are all wearing sweatpants, sporting serious wood. Rodney is not ashamed and is standing there with his hand in his pants, playing with his dick. Trying to keep my eyes focused on his face and not where his hands are, my tone is a bit sharp.
“Why didn’t you try to get her to do it?”
“I hadn’t thought about it at the time.” Rodney shrugs me off. Fuck him—no one told him what to do.
“Just sit there and watch,” I snap in response.
Repeating Rodney’s words, it hadn’t occurred to me to see if we could get her to squirt. Now that the image is in my head, it won’t go away. Thoughts of seeing Kennedy gush a release have made my dick even stiffer.
I fiddle around with the various settings on the remote, turning some on and others off. At one point, my gaze catches Kennedy arching her back. Continuing to play around with the settings, I watch her reaction to them and note which ones she likes better. Selecting the ones she likes the most, each button gets pressed. The speed starts slow, gradually increasing. Her breathing is increasing, her chest heaving up and down.
“Fuck, look at her tits bounce,” Rodney says with a moan.
“Rodney, please, shut the fuck up,” Gareth bites out.
I adjust the speed—fast for a while, then slow it down. Teasing, gently edging, and trying to get her ready. Finally, when I think she is there, the speed goes up, and I leave it there. Kennedy has her back arched as far as she can. Her head is tossing from side to side as she struggles against the restraints.
Several minutes go by, and it happens just as I get ready to shut it all off. Kennedy reaches her peak, squirting her orgasm all over the bed.
Fuck, that was sexy.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
Once Kennedy came, Ashton slowly shut the machine down as she continued working through the remainder of her climax. She passed out from exhaustion as soon as he shut it off. We have been at this for hours. Rodney was the first in the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind him. Callum, Ashton, and I make our way into the other room as soon as the door opens again.
Ashton and Callum slowly remove the restraints, rubbing out the stiffness in Kennedy’s body as we do. The machine gets disassembled, washed, and put away. Rodney finally comes in with some warm towels, wiping Kennedy clean. She still hasn’t roused from her slumber.
Callum pulls one of his T-shirts over her head, slowly working her arms through the sleeves. All of us work silently since our girl has earned some rest. None of us speak, all lost in our thoughts. While we recorded what we did, it still played like a movie in my head. Unlike Rodney, I will wait until I get in the shower to relieve myself.
Ashton lifts Kennedy’s slight frame from the mattress, moving her from Rodney’s bed to mine. When he has her settled and covered up, we change the bedding and clean the room.
It takes us an hour to get Kennedy and our room cleaned up. Once we finish, Callum takes the key to Kennedy’s room and goes downstairs to get her some clothes and her phone. Ashton goes first in the shower.
Watching Rodney, without saying a word, my mind races, wondering what is going through his head. After several moments, he makes his way to the refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of tequila. I raise an eyebrow, as it is still early in the morning. Rodney downs several shots in rapid succession. Not being able to hold my tongue anymore. My tone is laced with concern for my friend.
“What are you thinking, Rodney?”
He doesn’t respond immediately but does put the bottle of liquor away.
“I don’t know, man.” Rodney scrubs his hands over his face. “I miss my dad, still pissed and full of so much anger. My rational mind knows that none of this is Kennedy’s fault. But there is still a part of me that wants to string her up and take a whip to her body as a punishment, taking my aggression out on her.”
Choosing my words carefully, “I can empathize with you, brother. I can’t even pretend to imagine what you are feeling. But while we can get rough with her, you can only take it so far. She is just as much of a victim as you are. If you need to wail on someone, take it to the ring.”
He scoffs at me. “They banned me. I sent too many guys to the medical center.”
We both chuckle at this. Then, as our laughter dies off, the bathroom door opens, and Ashton steps out in a clean pair of sweatpants, his hair still damp from his shower.
“Gareth, I can sit here while you get cleaned up,” he says, moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to Kennedy’s prone body.
“Thanks, man. Callum should be back any minute. Can one of you run and get some food? I am hungry. Not sure how long she will sleep, but we need to feed her as soon as she wakes,” I state.
Both of them agree, and Rodney moves to leave the room. I gather some fresh clothes and head to the bathroom.
I turn the shower on to heat the water before setting my clothes on the counter. Stripping out of my clothes, the last several hours replay on repeat, the blood flow rushing back to my cock. Stepping under the spray, dropping some body wash into my hand, I grab my cock, making it slick.
Memories of Kennedy trussed up on Rodney’s bed, her head thrashing back and forth, her back arching, pushing her tits into the air. My dick has never been this hard. Gripping my cock tightly, using my free hand to play with my balls, memories of sliding in and out of Kennedy’s tight channel come into focus. Running my hand up and down my shaft, thinking of each climax Kennedy had and the flush that colored her body, pushes me to climax, painting the wall of the shower.
