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“That was beautiful,” I said. “Like playfulness at night, but also kind of sad like something lost.”
Jag let out his breath, then grinned as though he had never been worried at all. “It was about my first boyfriend and the time we spent at his parent’s cottage before he… well, he said he outgrew me.”
Moe stopped drumming his ass and spun around, his cock flopping against his thigh, drawing my gaze. Mmm, a show-er this one. He better be because if that got much bigger, I’d never be able to take it.
“Did you like my drumming?” he said.
I squeezed his hand and wished I was squeezing something else instead. “You’re very skilled at slapping ass.”
Moe’s smile brightened. “I know, right?” He bent to pull up his pants, but I grabbed his hand and yanked him, shuffling with his jeans around his knees, into the changing room. I shut the door.
Moe’s eyes widened. A flush climbed up his neck, and it gave me a thrill that I could make him blush when he played his own ass cheeks.
I turned to Jag and placed a hand on his face. His dickstrument pressed against my stomach and chest. “Can I kiss you in front of Moe?”
Jag’s eyes half closed, and a shiver went through him. “Yes, please.”
I glanced over my shoulder at Moe, who startled as though he hadn’t expected me to ask his permission. “Oh, hell yeah,” he said. “Go ahead.”
Grinning, I pressed my lips to Jag’s. Warmth spread through my body, and I jammed my hand into his hair.
Don’t bite him,my brain said.
Shut up, brain.
Maybe you should bite him after all!
Jag swiped his tongue over my lips, and I parted them, careful to keep my teeth back. But as he explored my mouth, my brain went quiet.
It actually went quiet.
He placed his hands on my hips, pulling me against him. His dicktar nestled between us, the head pressed between my breasts. My clit throbbed at its touch.
Moe slid a hand along my ribcage, his other lifted my hair from my neck, and my heart fluttered like a group of pigeons taking off.
“Can I kiss your neck? Can I touch you?”
I broke off the kiss with Jag. “Absolutely.”
Moe pressed his mouth to my neck, kissing the sensitive skin. He paused against my pulse to feel it batter his lips.
Jag placed a hand against my jaw and turned my face back to him. “I’m not done with you.”
I smirked and shoved him back against the wall. Moe followed behind me like he was attached to my back. “You’re done when I say you are, hoochie daddy.”
Jag’s eyes widened, and his skin turned a dark reddish-brown. “I knew that’s what you said!”
I met his gaze, and he stared back as though with a silent challenge. “Can I take your cock in dicktar mode? I want the part that makes the beautiful music: the instrument and the man.”
Jag’s breath picked up, his chest heaving. “Yes, do what you want with me.”
My heart soared at the flustered look on his face, the challenge in his eyes, and the way his voice had turned needy.
“First, I’m going to cast a spell on us. It’s a sort of magical condom.”
Moe rested his chin on my shoulder and his hands crept up my waist. “Yeah, magic! Also, can I touch your breasts? They look so, so…” He paused as though trying to think of a word. “Good,” he settled on.
I chuckled. Even his lame attempt at dirty talk was making my skin tingle. Before answering, I let my magic flow, redirecting part of it from the spell that was keeping the shop’s security at bay to a ward around their cocks and my pussy. It would block any infections we might be carrying.
