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As if reading my mind, he grabs on to my cock once more and works me over the edge in a matter of minutes, leaving my head reeling and my entire body shaking with relief from the orgasm he pumped out of me.
God, this won’t ever get old.
“Come over after class,” he tells me, and I shake my head, gulping down air.
“I can’t.”
I can’t because I have plans with Ford after class.
Jesus. I’m so fucked up. It’s unhinged, and yet I can’t stop. Won’t stop.
I know I should probably pick between Ford and Cash, but I can’t. I can’t fucking pick. They’re both perfect in their own ways.
I need them both right now.
I need them both for forever.
“I have to get to work,” I say, pushing myself up and walking with wobbly knees to the bedroom where my clothes are. Cash is leaning against the doorframe, watching me dress, and I feel like I’m on display. My cum is everywhere in this house. On his floor, in the kitchen, on his hand. Oh my god. I’ve marked my territory like a dog.
As soon as I’m dressed, I head to the front door, turning my gaze over my shoulder and catching Cash eyeing me.
“Tomorrow?” he asks, and I nod. Because hell, there’s no way I’m not showing up for another round of whatever that was. I want his hands on me again.
“Thanks for breakfast.”
“Always,” he says, and I stumble outside, the cool air hitting my face and making my warm, overheated skin positively burn.
“Goddamnit,” I murmur as I walk to my car, feeling wrung out and satiated. I could go for a long nap. A really long one. Curled up in Ford’s lap. Or Cash’s. Or both.
For fuck’s sake, I think as I start my rickety car. I need to get a grip. I need to get a grip on something other than my dick.
I pull out of his driveway and feel a pang in my heart.
I don’t like leaving so quickly, don’t like these walls between us, but it’s the only way.
The only way this can work.
* * *
“So, how’s it going juggling two men,” my best friend, Tatum, asks. His pink hair sticks straight up, and I swear I don’t know how he manages it. But he does. It’s unreal. You’d think he spends hours on it, but I know him. He wakes up this way.
I stare at him and then focus back on my computer, trying to get ready for the lecture on urban sociology, which is a topic I am interested in, but I’m unable to focus. My ass hurts from not being filled. It’s getting greedy. Just a hole that needs to have something in it at all times.
It’s grown accustomed to this kind of life and now it’s starting to have expectations. What will I do if they ever dump me? What if they find out what I’ve been up to and leave me?
It will be a sad time, for sure. I’m not sure I’ll survive it.
I’ll have to get two different butt plugs, name them Cash and Ford, and wear them when I’m feeling particularly lonely.
“It’s going fine,” I say and then peek over at Tatum who is wiggling in his seat, his pink lips pulled between his teeth. He has a stain on his shirt and a rip in his pants, but he’s one of the smartest people I know. He’s in his last year of college too, also studying to become a social worker. I plan on working with the elderly, and he plans on working in adoption.
We’ve become fast friends over the past few years from having so many classes together. I took to his fun, energetic personality and how open he is. And he took to me…well, I’m not sure why.
I wish I could be more like him at times, but I tend to be more reserved and afraid.
Afraid of so damn much. That’s why this whole situation is so crazy. It’s the single time I’ve been brave and just gone for something I want.
“Yeah, and how’s your butthole?”
