Page 42 of In Their Hearts
I press the little button, and it comes to life. Almost vibrating out of my hand. Wow. That’s got to do something good.
I move my pillows around and get comfortable. Part of me wonders what the guys would do with this. It’s skinny and not too long, not like their cocks.
My sex clenches at remembering what they feel like. Already feeling empty. That’s where I start. I lube up the toy and slowly press it inside of me. It feels foreign and definitely doesn’t stretch me the way they did.
But that’s okay. I can make this work. I continue to explore and try different angles. Changing my pace. I’m only half thinking about what I’m doing; my thoughts keep returning to them.
Wondering what they are doing right now. Are they in bed together? What would it be like to watch them? Would I like it? I mean, I love them naked and sweaty on me. When they kiss, it makes me hot, wet, and horny.
I groan. I love watching them kiss. I love seeing them fully lost in each other. Making love to each other.
My brain makes up its own scene. One where I’m shoving this toy in and out of my wet pussy, while I watch Grant fuck Clay. Watch as his thick cock stretches Clay’s ass. Oh. That would be hot.
I can feel my heart rate picking up. I keep my eyes closed as I turn up the vibrations. Do they ever taste each other? I loved having each of them in my mouth. Clay is always eager to please me, and I’m sure he does the same with Grant. Taking him all the way in and down his throat.
I moan, and my hips buck with the vibrator.
Clay would swallow it all down, or maybe Grant would cover him in it. He’s probably marked his husband dozens of times.
Ah. I’m close. So close. I put the vibrator in deep, clenching around it, and I work my clit with my fingers. Sliding around easily between the lube and my arousal.
“Clay! Grant!” I cry out into the empty room. Their names echo in my head as I try to catch my breath.
Damn them.
Well then. I lay in bliss on my bed. The vibrator is now off, but I leave it in my sex. It reminds me that Clay always stays in as long as he can. I didn’t even realize how much I like that until right now. I don’t want to feel empty.
Letting a few minutes pass by. Missing the orgasms they gave me. They were so much… more.
I sigh. Take the vibrator out and go to the bathroom to clean up. I crawl back under my sheets and blanket. I’m warmer and feel lighter after that. But I’m sad that I don’t have one or both of them to curl around and just sleep.
I grab my biggest pillow and snuggle with it. I hold back the tears that threaten my eyes. I will not cry over them.
“No!” I shout.
My eyes burn, my throat raw. I force myself to breathe, to get my bearings, and realize it was just a nightmare.
Damn.
I can’t remember what it was about, and probably for the best. Most of my dreams drag me back to the night of the accident, or to his mother screaming at me after his death.
The nightmares always show me the worst parts of Andy dying. I was barely twenty when everything happened. But the good memories? I buried those memories, too. Shoved them down deep and pretended they didn’t exist. It was just easier if I pretended Andy and I were never engaged. We never anything.
I head into the kitchen for a glass of water, hoping the movement will convince my body it’s still exhausted. Still safe. Still here.
The cool water soothes my throat. I refill the glass, then turn to take it back to my room.
As I pass the table, I stop cold.
No. It can’t be.
An envelope sits there. The same kind as the other letters came in. My pulse pounds. I know I shouldn’t open it. Andy is dead. His mother is fucking dead. Who’s next? I fucking hate all of this. This needs to be over.
My anger is getting the best of me; I rip it open. None of this should be happening.
There’s only one word.
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