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Jason lets out a noise that sounds like nyuh-huh. His eyes are screwed shut, his jaw tight. His neck glows red. He looks like he’s in pain—or pleasure? It’s hard to tell.
But goddamn, it’s arousing.
I can’t help myself. My fingers dive into my panties, and I find my slippery wet slit. Immediately, I start flicking my clit. My pleasure bundles and tightens.
“Fuck—stop,” Jason says suddenly, and Donovan freezes.
“Am I hurting you?”
Jason shakes his head.
“Do you want me to pull out?”
Another shake of his head.
“Use your words, Hotshot.”
Jason hides his face in his hands. “I…uh. Don’t want to cum yet.”
A light grin ghosts across Donovan’s lips. Donovan’s eyes catch on me. They slide over my lewd state appraisingly. “What do you think?” he asks me.
“You two are beautiful,” I breathe.
“Isn’t he being so good?” Donovan pries. He takes Jason in his hand and pumps him, slowly. Jason throws an arm over his own face, muffling the sound of his moans.
“Mmhm…” I rub myself faster.
“Don’t you think he deserves to taste your sweet cunt?”
My breath catches. “Yes…”
I slip out of my panties and crawl over to Jason. He’s ready for me, and he holds my thighs when I sling a leg over his chest and lower myself down onto his face. I can feel the warmth of his breath, then the way he nuzzles my cunt, kisses it. Finally, his tongue sneaks between the folds of my slit and lashes across my seam.
“Yes,” I whine, “that feels so good…”
Immediately, I’m rocking against his lips. He drinks me in greedily, his tongue bold and hungry. When I open my eyes, I catch sight of Donovan. Watching me. Intently. As if he’s memorizing every moan. Every bite of my bottom lip. Every flutter of my eyes.
Jason’s tongue is sloppy with need, and his desperation is infectious. Every lick, suck, and nibble sends me closer to the edge of insanity.
I collapse forward and knead my fingers into the muscles of Jason’s stomach. My pleasure has made me weak, and I can barely keep myself upright.
Just when I need it, Donovan’s strong grip slides over the side of my face. His fingers fist my hand, and he leans forward so his forehead touches mine. I lean into him, and I can feel his breath beating against my lips. We’re moving in tandem now; he is the moon, and I am the tide, and I’m swaying into his orbit, following his lead.
“Good,” Donovan says, “you’re doing so good. Give me everything.” And I don’t know if he’s talking to me, or Jason, or both of us, but with his permission, I unravel.
A pitchy sound leaves my throat as my orgasm crashes against Jason’s mouth. I whine and rock against him, everything in me throbbing. Nuzzled against Donovan, I can hear the hitch in his own breath and his soft, low groan. I feel the vibrations of Jason’s moans against my slippery wetness.
We’re cresting together—all three of us. Tripping like dominos, crashing and sighing.
I climb off Jason’s shoulders, and he pants. Jason’s body is slick with sweat, his skin furnace hot. I see white trails of him across his abdomen and dripping down Donovan’s fingers. We cuddle him between us, Donovan and I. I want to wrap him up, and I squeeze tightly to this man I cherish so deeply.
He’s still trying to catch his breath, panting in the darkness. He laughs. It’s the best sound.
“I love you,” Jason blurts out. “Both of you. I love you like oceans. I love you to the moon and back again. I love you so much my chest aches—like physically hurts—when I think about you.”
His admission hits me like a bag of bricks, and it knocks the air out of me. “I…” I start to speak, but my throat closes up before I can get any further.
His cum, I can swallow. His admission of love? It gets stuck like a chicken bone.
