“Are you OK on your back?” Dylan asked. She hadn't considered it.
“I can be creative,” Mike answered, his voice muffled. For some reason, it made her giggle, and she got a case of the sillies, right here in this incredibly sensual moment. Laughing so hard tears filled her eyes, Dylan watched her, eyes dancing with amusement. Mike paused, then crawled up her body, dragging his chest along her skin.
His head popped up, face curious, as she quivered and shook, overcome with laughter. “I've been laughed at in bed before,” he said, “but never while doing that.”
Oh, God. That made her giggle even more, great whoops surprising her, Mike glancing at Dylan, Dylan's shrug, both sets of eyes watching her. Contagious, the laughter got them too, deep voices rumbling with chuckles until finally Laura settled down, flapping her hands in front of her face to cool down and calm herself.
“What was that?” Dylan asked, finger circling her nipple.
Mike dipped his head back under the covers and moved down. A kiss on her hip. “Was that funny?” A kiss on her knee. “Funny?” A kiss on her mons. “Giggling now? How about I make you gasp.” The last word came out as a low growl, so predatory and primal she filled with a blooming wetness, all heat and low thrumming, body fully ready.
And gasp she did, for as his hips moved, Mike folding his extended body into position between her legs, and although she was on her side, he simply moved one leg up, balanced it on his shoulder gently, and leaned down, tongue touching the exact place she needed it to. Like a butterfly in slow motion, his tongue lapped and licked in a perfect, slow rhythm that took her from ready to gone. Dylan's scent, all musk and smoke and salty, filled the air as he lowered his mouth on her other nipple, keeping symmetry.
She didn't care, transported to a frenzied near-climax by a few touches of Mike's tongue. When Dylan rotated slightly, calves brushing against her hip, his body hovering over hers, her mouth was open, breath coming out in pants, his lips taking hers as his hand reached for her ass, pulling her closer.
What she wanted, though, was more. Urging Dylan to slide up, she reached for him, fingers lacing around his thick erection, guiding him to her mouth. Knowing she would soon come – hard and furious, crazy and tilting – she wanted to give, to make someone else feel as good as Mike made her feel now, to spread out her own intensity, delaying her climax, to make it all the more incredible and vital and fucking liquifying when it did come.
And it this rate, she didn't have long, months of pen-up frustration and need and arousal and all of it. Mike's hands spread up her hip to take in what they could, as his mouth worked wonders, exploring the full, pink flesh of her labia, one finger sliding inside her – now two! – the added sensation giving her a gasp, indeed, as she tongued Dylan's mushroom cap, his body tensing, all of this energy traveling like a physics math word problem.
If Mike's tongue flickers at a rate of 69 beats per second while Laura's mouth licks Dylan's enormous co**ck five times per minute, as her hands dig into Mike's golden waves and Dylan groans at 200 decibels, when will they all come?
About...now, apparently, Laura's body twitching, removing Dylan from her as he eased back, her face turning to the pillow, unable to do anything but experience this, biting the sleek cotton to keep from screaming. Didn't work. “Oh, God!” she shouted, her body convulsing, neck muscles stretching and pulling at the same time, her body stretching like a cat's, then shaking, stretching, then shaking, hands curled into fists in ecstasy.
Beyond words, she just came and came, exploding as Mike rode the wave, following her as her clit bobbed and jumped, hips out of control, her eyes open and then shut, occasionally catching glimpses of Dylan's transfixed look, watching her with such passion it nearly made her come again.
“No, stop!” she begged. “I want you in me!”
“I'm here,” said Dylan, smoky and sensual. He slid against her, from behind, as Mike straightened up, slipped out from under the covers and rested on his knees, a delicious drink of water her eyes soaked up. How could he have so little fat, pockets of muscle etched into his ribs and abdomen? Unreal. Dylan's hot skin married hers, hips resting behind as Mike's mirth-filled eyes acknowledged what he'd just given her, and waited patiently for so much more, lips flush and red, blue eyes growing serious and sultry.
Now it was Dylan who nudged against her, her own passage eager to be filled, nudging back as he centered himself, then the tip of him touched her outer lips, eliciting a sigh that turned into a moan, her body responding with such fierce arousal she was grateful for two men. They might not be able to satisfy the tiger inside her, the one that had prowled for the past few months through her erogenous zones, pacing and searching for –
Oh! Oh! As he entered her everything split and she felt nothing but slick, her body welcoming and warm, his erection pushing hard from behind as she rested on her side, trying to get him deeper, needing a fuller feeling of man, of Dylan, and as he began to thrust, slow and tender, she whispered, “I love the feeling of you in me. I need you so much.”
“I need you, too, Babe,” he answered, the hissing musk of his breath enough to put her into a cocoon of this, of nothing more or less, his abs pushing against her ass, his knee between hers, his co**ck inside her as rough palms massaged her breasts, wet lips kissed her earlobes, and then – there it was.
Explosion. Implosion. Screams – hers, of pleasure and orgasm and release and pluming and of complete annihilation of the mind. Hands and fingers and mouths and cocks and as**s and pus**sy walls all worked in concert until everything was just a pink and red void, panting breath and hot, wet flesh and a gritty, guttural groan of fucking and being fucked, of having her body pushed to its sensual limits and over the line, of crossing something that expunged all worry, all fear, all timid nature into a ball of greedy desire and lust and –
Dylan. His neck muscles pushed against her ear; she could feel the strain as she came down from her own high, could sense the creaming inside her as he came, could hear the little sounds the back of his throat involuntarily made as he thrust, then froze, thrust, then froze, squeezing every drop from this masterful movement. He slumped against her, spent, as her energy roared to life, her appetite for sex and skin and being fucked a thousand times stronger than it had ever been in her life, the roar of want so great she feared she would devour them.
Mike. Could Mike be enough now? As Dylan slid out of her, kissing her shoulder, Mike moved like a lion, slow and sure, owning the land and the bed, her body and his, knowing what she needed without her saying a word. He didn't seem surprised when she took his mouth with force, a maniacal power driving her to kiss him, to use her tongue to nip, to suck, to measure the terrain of him.
“I want you on top,” he murmured, stretching out on the bed, his tall runner's body going on and on. Dylan had rolled over and watched, an open, friendly face that seemed more wistful than voyeuristic, and as she climbed on Mike's hips, straddling him, she unceremoniously plunged down on his rigid cock, the tip hitting her cervix with a push of pleasure that made it seem as if she hadn't just made love with Dylan, hadn't just come from Mike's mouth and Dylan's cock, hadn't just been satisfied and catered to in every way possible.
Because she needed more. More, more, more. Mike obliged, pulling her down for another kiss, her own taste more evident now, her lips spreading in a grin at the mixing of their juices, their bodies, the ease of so much sensual abandon. She leaned down and changed the angle of her hips, now in control of the thrusts, her as**s lifting up, pus**sy lips encasing him, her shifts imperceptible to him but giving her clit more friction, making her so, so close.
“God, I love your body,” he gasped, hands full of her breasts, throat tight as she milked him, plunging down as hard as possible to feel so full, so real. Moonlight spilled into the room and she took in the scene, Dylan's gaze of love and enjoyment, Mike's body filling hers, his chest and face below her, eyes concentrating on her, absorbing their lovemaking, the love in the air palpable. Tipping her head down, she inhaled slowly, primally as she pulled up, the room filled with moist heat and the scent of three, the thought combining with her faster movements, her body fucking him now, the one who maintained the pace, who took the rising ball of lust inside her, which expanded and grew until –
Starbursts. More screams. An emptying and a completion that she couldn't name. “Laura! Laura!” Mike shouted, his face twisted in torque and thrust as she raked her fingernails over his shoulders, his hands kneading her hips and ass, fingertips pressed hard into her luscious curves. They thrashed and vibrated, her pus**sy climaxing less from her clit's frenzy but more from the deep pushing, the perfect pitch of flesh against flesh, of the supernova of juicy sex.
Her hips ached, forcing her to rest her head on Mike's shoulder as she came down, down, down from a high she didn't know was possible, much less achievable in the arms of anyone – or any two. Mike murmured love and whispered loyalty in her ear as Dylan snuggled up to them, helping to ease Laura onto her side, her body limp with the feeling of being wrung out, a joyous song of satiety humming in her head.
