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My mate was perfection itself.
She took one of my hands and placed it between her legs. “I’ve got openings here, and here, okay?”
One I knew about, and had tested. The other?—
“Don’t worry. It’ll stretch. As long as you’re gentle.”
Perhaps she read my face. I nodded strongly. She smiled up at me, and I knew I wasn’t dying anymore for a fraction of a second.
“So—all you have to do is tilt me,” she went on. “Like, I’m sitting on you, only side-saddle, and on the front—does that make sense?”
I considered things, and it did. I started reorienting the webbing at once—and then, as an afterthought, bound her broken leg beneath her, after bending her right knee. I didn’t want to jostle it once our bond begun.
“Yeah,” she agreed. She looked a bit worried—I had spun her up sideways to me, so that both her injured leg and her hair were hanging down, and her good leg was up across my chest, her ankle against my neck. I quickly added more webbing for her comfort, so it was more like she was on a hammock, than having to support her own weight for me when she wanted to look up. “Thank you,” she said, and then looked to me. I hadn’t stopped pumping my pair this whole time—if something punctured them right now, I was sure I would bleed out. “Can you use some of your spit?” she asked. “Slippery stuff, if you get to choose?”
I nodded, and made to lubricate myself adequately atonce. My pair knew where they wanted to go, they honed in on their upcoming locations, but I stopped moving as she touched my hand. “You just have to be patient is all,” she said. “And...you’re not, uh, gonna kill me afterwards or anything?”
I paused entirely at that. I had heard that joke more than once before, usually crudely shared on missions by my coworkers, as others joked about their sexual prowess, and gave it as a reason for my lack thereof.
“And I don’t have to kill you, right?” she asked with a laugh.
I wasn’t entirely sure why she thought it was funny—but I shook my head.
I felt her sag fully into my webbing then at that, as she went on.
“Okay then, please-dear-God,railme.”
Twenty-Six
SLOANE
Nia’n’an didn’t knowwhat railing was—which was good, because I wasn’t quite ready to jump into that, but I would be.
“I mean, just press forward—grab my hips—yeah—hold me for you. Give things a little time?” My pussy would’ve just let him hop on in, but my ass was a sightly tighter door. I enjoyed anal, though, so I knew that we would get there. “You’re gonna like that hole, Nia’n’an,” I said as I felt the first bit of him creep through my outer ring. “It’s gonna hold you so tight—both of them are,” I promised.
I knew from giving him a blow job earlier that both his dicks were an intriguing combination of muscular and hard—which I’d kind of known from seeing him work himself the other night, and gave me hopes for double-vaginal penetration in the future—but for right now—I just needed to finish taking his virginity.
I’d had the thought sarcastically—but when I realized that was really what it could be, I wanted to be sure.
“Nia’n’an?” I asked. “Have you ever done this before?”
He shook his head at me, and I groaned.
“Oh God, how does that make this even hotter? Fuck—keep going?” I asked, and he did so.
I made soft noises as he stretched me. It wasn’t even just each individual dick, although they were huge, but taking them in combination? Both of them slowly filling me up?
About halfway through, I began to lose my mind.
I ran my hands up through my hair, feeling like a crazy person.
“Oh God, Nia’n’an,” I said, and he stopped. “Oh no—don’t stop—don’t stop unless I literally tell you to stop after this, all right?” I said fiercely, and I felt him nod against my calf. “That’s right—because once we’re on this fuck train together, there’s no exits till the end.”
I had no idea what I was even saying at that point—I just knew I’d never felt so full before. So much stretching, so much pressure.
So muchright.
He made a low growling noise of satisfaction, just at the point where taking anymore would’ve made me question my sanity, and I realized we’d met together.
