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Who rocks inside me again, still half-hard, gasping, his mouth open, his eyes wide.
“Holy fuck,” he manages, and his dick pulses again, and I tighten, and we all moan. “This is cracked.”
Yeah, pretty cracked. Incredible. The world shatters into a million bright pieces, and I fall among them, light as a feather. Heavy as a stone.
They both cradle me in their arms as I come down from the high, shaky and limp and so frigging emotional my eyes are filling up with tears, and I cling to them, my heart close to bursting.
Not even in my wildest fantasies had I imagined it would feel like this. How does one go back to writing a story when reality is so much better?
***
Somehow we find ourselves on the living room sofa, eating waffles with chocolate syrup and—you guessed it—bananas. Looks like Joel has been putting that cookbook to good use.
His banana, too. Oh God…
I’m exhausted. It’s all the super badass sex. How’s a girl to think straight after that? DP, baby. Double penetration.
Badass.
God, my life is turning into a serial. Into the serial. Only on steroids.
Sandwiched between my super boys who are watching a wrestling match on TV, I feel warm and drowsy and comfortable and…cherished. I have my head on Joel’s lap and my feet on Jethro’s, and I listen to them talk.
They’re still naked. Joel’s muscular thigh is dusted with fine hairs. I trail my hand to his knee, and he twitches.
I grin.
My boys have been devouring stacks of waffles and commenting on the match with their mouths full. Is it weird that I find that cute?
It is weird. God.
And I can’t keep from stroking Joel’s knee, the muscles shifting under my hand. My eyes are closing. Figures that I’d fall asleep with my fantasy boyfriends, while they’re wide awake and could probably go for round two… or is it three?
Could my ass get any more pounding? Will I be able to walk tomorrow? Should I buy a butt plug? Should I wander around wearing it, is that a thing when you have two boyfriends?
Damn, I hate how philosophical I get when I’m tired.
And should I ask them if they are my boyfriends now? Does taking it in the ass constitute the foundation of a steady relationship? Should I wait until Joel also taps my ass before I ask? Should we do everything twice, in reversed positions?
God, I’m wiped out. But I like Joel’s hand rubbing my back, and Jethro massaging my ankles and feet. Mmmm…
“Love that,” I mumble. “Love you, guys. What we did earlier… oh man.”
Jethro chuckles. “She’s fucking out of it.”
“We fucked you senseless, didn’t we, girl?” Joel runs his fingers through my hair and I purr. “You liked it, though.”
I nod, although it wasn’t a question. I thought it was obvious. Weren’t my invocations of God, Joel and Jet clear hints? Or the way I gripped their cocks inside me, almost crushing them to pulp as I came?
Come on.
“I didn’t hurt you?” Jethro asks, and warmt
h seeps into my face—and my heart.
“You’d never hurt me,” I tell him and twist around, trying to see his face. His eyes are stormy as he hauls me up until I’m seated between them, and I plop my heavy head on his shoulder. “Neither of you would, or could. I wanted this, with both of you. Have wanted you for so long.”
“You’ve said that before.” Joel twines a lock of my hair around his fist, and sniffs it. “How long, then? You make it sound like a long time.”
