23. 22
“Fun,” Remy yells when he steps into my office. “We all need fun! I’ve had it with all the stress and being down and depressed and anxious. We need a lot of fun.” His hair looks frizzled and his eyes look wild.
“Well, hello to you too, Mister Ashburn,” I say, pushing myself away from my desk and looking at him with curiosity. “Did you disrupt my work day just to enlighten me with this insight?”
He dramatically points a finger at me. “I was practicing my routine, dancing my merry heart out. And suddenly I felt off. My mind wandered to fucking Wayne and what he’s up to, and I worried about you being safe, about Chester being safe, even about Beckett. Dancing is my happy place!”
“I know that.”
“And now I was worried while in my happy place! And all of you did that. So now you owe me some fun!”
A smile creeps onto my face. He’s being deadly serious and is legitimately distressed, but he’s looking extremely cute while doing so.
“Okay,” I say.
“Okay?” he asks confused, as if he didn’t expect me to give in so easily.
“Believe it or not, I’m not all about work. I like to play as well.”
“Good. Because you owe me some fun.”
“You said that, yeah.”
“And Beckett and Chester too!”
I full out laugh. “We’ll get them involved as well. What did you have in mind?”
“Make sure everyone is ready in an hour.”
“Absolutely not,” Beckett bellows. He’s staring at a fake FBI outfit and is asked to put it on.
“It’s not like you’re impersonating being an agent,” Remy says, “you actually are one. This one is just more convenient for our afternoon.”
I let my fingers glide over the scrap of silky deep purple fabric covered in glitter that lies in front of me. We’re at Remy’s dance studio, where we’re about to get a striptease workshop. Remy called in a favor from a friend who moved from theater stages to the stage of a strip club, and he’s going to give us a workshop.
“Why can’t we do this workshop in regular workout clothes?”
“Because it ain’t a strip show unless there’s glitter and velcro involved, hunny,” Remy’s friend, Jay, says. He’s all lean muscle, the body of a dancer, and he’s gorgeous.
“I’m not wearing glitter,” Beckett sulks.
“That’s why you got the cop costume,” Jay says, proceeding to pick up a glittery bowtie and a three-piece costume for Chester, who’s leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Turns out it’s a really small world. Jay’s boyfriend is one of Chester’s old hookups, and Chester’s absence in picking up men has been noticed around Portland. Jay thinks it’s hilarious, Chester is mortified.
He’s mortified in general about having to go to a striptease workshop, but nobody could say no to Remy’s plea - or demand - for fun.
So here we are.
“What the hell is that supposed to be?”
“Stripper billionaire,” Jay says, winking. The guy is too charming for his own good. Knowing that he has a professional dancing background makes me certain that he’s incredibly talented.
“So what are my scraps turning into?” I ask him.
“Fucking hot, babe. It’s like I’m the fairy godmother bippity-boppity-booing you into a drop dead gorgeous bitch.”
Jay is awesome. I like him. He makes me smile. His over the top campness makes his advances non-threatening for the guys, keeping their jealous sides at bay. I love it when they act possessive, but sometimes it’s flattering to get showered with attention by a stranger.
“What’s Remy going to be?” Beckett asks, still eyeing his outfit with suspicion.
“The death of all of us,” Jay says, dramatically pretending that he’s going to faint. “Now, get your cute little butts in gear and get dressed. I’m going to set everything up.” He proceeds to set up transportable stripper poles, making sure they’re secure and in place.
I smile and take my pieces of cloth with me to the dressing room, where I do my best to put them on. It’s a short skirt and some sort of top. Seriously, there isn’t even enough there to cover up the underwear I’m wearing, neither panties nor bra.
Fuck it. We’re doing this. We’re going to have some fun this afternoon.
I step out of the dressing room, Jay’s head snapping up and seeking me out at once. “Oh, no, no, no, hunny. Turn around. Take off the bra. Show them perky tits. Gravity doesn’t have a hold on you yet.”
I grin. Guess that’s a solution for my outfit not covering up my bra.
By the time I come out the second time all the guys are waiting in the dancing room. Remy is wearing a soldier uniform, and it’s almost too much. He gives me a toothy grin when he sees me coming out. I’m so far out of my comfort zone that I can’t even see it anymore. But playing dress up with my boyfriends and then taking their clothes off again makes me flexible.
Jay is busy slicking Chester’s hair back with gel, and he looks so unlike himself that I almost don’t recognize him. He looks like he’s about to stab Jay, who seems to be having the time of his life. My best guess is that it’s a mix of his naturally likeable character and having fun messing with Chester.
When my angry-faced lover finally looks up and sees me, he takes a step back. Beckett follows his look, giving me a crooked smile.
“This afternoon is turning into fun after all.”
“Good,” Remy concludes, clapping his hands. “More fun now please, Jay.”
Jay steps back from Chester, giving us all an approving once-over and then grabs a chair. He sets it in the middle of the room and taps his phone until music comes from the boxes. Pony by Genuwine starts, and even if it’s kind of an obvious choice for a strip lesson, it’s an obvious choice for a reason. It just works.
Chester winces, making Remy roll his eyes.
“Abby, foxy vixen,” Jay says, “please take a seat. We’re going to start with groin rolls. Be ready to get close to a lot of dick.”
“I’m always surrounded by dick,” I tease before I sit down.
“Behave,” Remy says, “we’re here to have fun. Now get some dicks rolled into your face and have fun.”
I snort.
Jay stands in front of me, each of his legs on the side of mine, and he gently lays a hand on my neck. He watches the guys before he starts his lesson. “It’s all about the hips.” He starts rolling his hips to the beat of the music, dipping low and then pounding his dick forward. “Then use your hand to guide her head and make sure everyone stays where you want them to end up. If I want to make sure she isn’t in there crotch sniffing? Then my hand holds her in place. If I want to rub her all over my deliciousness? I can guide her to where I want her to be.”
He lifts his chin to Remy. “Show them how it’s done, Mister Ashburn.”
Jay steps away from me, only to be replaced by Remy, who mischievously stares down and lays a hand on my neck. He uses his other hand to tip my chin, making me look at him, defeating the purpose of him rolling his groin at me. Then he starts moving to the music, getting up close and personal.
And it’s doing more for me than I ever could’ve imagined.
The grin on his face tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
“Excellent,” Jay says. “Now Mister Von Liechsenfield.”
I can’t help but smile while Chester sulks all the way walking up here. He turns to Remy at the last second. “Is this really necessary?”
“You owe me,” he reminds him.
“I owe you fun. This isn’t fun!”
“Oh, I beg to differ,” Beckett says.
“Preach, hunny,” Jay adds.
Chester rolls his eyes and murmurs something I can’t understand, but his intention is perfectly clear. He reluctantly puts a leg on either side of my knees and lays his hand in my neck, grabbing my hair. He’s being rougher than he should be, and I guess he’s doing it out of some form of rebellion, but it does things to my insides instead.
And then he starts moving his hips, pushing his groin in my face, and to my surprise, the man knows how to move. My surprise must be showing on my face.
“What? I might not be a great dancer, but I know how to move my ass.”
Which I should have figured out before. He knows what he does in bed as well. Jay is excitedly rooting him on while clapping, while Beckett starts to look a little gray. Then my focus shifts back to the crotch getting shoved in my face, and I’m all eyes for Chester again. He smirks at me evilly.
Jay taps him on the shoulder. “Look at the way you move, hm. I could look at that all day. Hm, hm. No wonder Cal was sad to see you leave the scene. Now make space for the ef, bee, ayyyy baby.”
I want to start laughing, but the look on Beckett’s face makes me hold back. He looks so sternly that I almost get scared. Biting my bottom lip, I manage to keep it in.
“Not a word,” he breathes through his teeth.
I nod, probably more excited than I should. He steps away from my legs and looks over his shoulder to where Chester, Remy and Jay are all looking with equal anticipation. He sighs, lays a hand on the back of my head, and hip thrusts in time with the music. It isn’t even half bad.
Jay ends up catcalling while both Remy and Chester start shouting obscenities.
Me? I get up close and personal, looking at him through my eyelashes, and when he sees my flustered face, he manages to smile. He’ll never admit it, but he’s having fun, and I guess we all needed it.
Two hours later, we’re all laughing. We’ve gotten a crash course in doing all kinds of adult fun stuff. We twirled around a pole, did some other sexy movements, such as crawling to each other, which all of us found hilarious, and ended up doing our best to be sexy while taking off our outfits. Beckett and Chester forbade me to take my outfit off because Jay didn’t get to see the goods, which I found ridiculous, since Jay would much rather look at their goods and I was fine with him seeing it. They are a sight to behold after all.
Somewhere in the last stage of our striptease crash course, we were covered in glitter, and I guess it was essential to getting the full-blown experience. But it also meant that now that everything was over, we were sparkly and I didn’t necessarily want to be that way.
After Jay packed up and said goodbye before he left, Remy tells us there are shower stalls in the dressing room out back. The kids don’t use them, they mostly go home in their dancing outfits and shower at home, but sometimes Remy uses them himself after he’d danced in his studio – something that is happening less and less now that he’s practicing for a production again.
But in this case, it comes in quite handy. I would not want to be the one who’d have to clean the car upholstery with this glitter everywhere.
I have the biggest smile on my face when I walk to the dressing room out back. Remy is getting us some towels, and we can all change back to our regular clothes after showering. I have to give it to Remy. This is the most fun I’ve had in weeks, and I needed it. By the end of the lesson, even Beckett was giving it his all, and I got to see his playful side. When the three of them actually get along, they’re a force to reckon with.
There are two stalls, and I quickly undress to be able to get in there first. The glitter is sticky and I need to get it off. The water takes a minute to get warm, but the second it does, I step under the spray. It’s warm and comforting, and I like the feeling of getting clean.
The shower stalls are old-fashioned cubicles, and they look like they were made for people who are used to showering together, because the cubicles aren’t that high. When I step on my toes, I can see Chester under the spray. He catches me being a Peeping Tom with a smirk.
A cold draft goes over my back when the door to my cubicle opens up, and Beckett steps in.
“What the hell?” I say.
“You can’t expect to sway your hips all afternoon, crawl towards me in something so tiny it doesn’t even deserve the name outfit, twirl around a pole and give me seductive looks, only to get naked under a shower and not expect me to take advantage?”
Well, when you put it like that.
My eyes glide over his chiseled body, from the deep V grooves next to his hips to his broad shoulders and bulky biceps. The thing that sets me on fire is the way he looks at me.
“Let’s wait until we get home,” I say, my voice raspy. I’m horny as hell too, but I’m guessing the same goes for Chester and Remy.
“Don’t worry,” Remy says, his voice coming from Chester’s stall. The wall wobbles when one of them obviously gets thrown to the wall.
“Nobody has the time to wait, Abs,” Chester grunts. “Time is of the essence.”
“We were under strict orders to have fun,” Beckett adds, stepping right into my space and making me look up to him.
Before I know what’s happening, he kneels, hooks his arms through my legs, and lifts me all the way up until my crotch is right in front of his face. Fuck, he’s strong.
And damn.
That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
He turns me around, my ass pressed against the side of the cubicle, and when I look back, I see Chester and Remy all over each other. They’re so tangled I can’t identify whose hand is whose, and I’m pretty sure they don’t know either.
“Now, remember,” Beckett grunts, “use your hand to control what happens to your crotch.” He doesn’t waste any time before he dives face first into my pussy and licks through my folds. He sucks in my clit before he bites down on my labia, and I tangle my fingers through his hair, pulling hard at the root. I’m sure it hurts, but so does his biting.
Do I want it to stop?
Hell no.
I want him to kiss and make it better.
The position we’re in makes sure he’s completely in control, and all I can do is hold on and ride it out. He starts writing a whole fucking novel with his tongue on the bud between my legs, and long groans come out of my mouth. The tiles of the dressing room echo beautifully, even over the sound of the water.
“Fucking hell, love, do you hear her?” Remy says as if he’s in pain.
“I bet I can make you beat her,” Chester grunts, and the sound that comes out of Remy when he says that indicates that Chester does something to him that really gets him going.
I’m curious what it is.
I don’t have any time to think about it though. Beckett stops licking me, and bites the inside of my thigh so hard it’s bound to leave a mark. The way this man likes to mark me is probably not healthy. There are serial killers out there who get off on seeing their teeth in their victims. The fact that I’m getting off on it just as much as him makes it a little better. He kisses away the ache, going over it with his tongue, but nobody has got the fucking patience for this.
Using my hands I steer him back to where I want him, but I should know better than to think I can make Beckett do exactly what I want to do. He doesn’t realize how much he and Chester are alike when they’re told what to do.
Instead of licking me where I want him to lick me, he spears his tongue and pushes it in my opening. There’s nothing subtle about it. He just fucking goes for it. His face is buried in me, his lips going over my labia while he fucks me with his tongue.
There isn’t a single second I don’t feel safe up there, even though I’m sitting on his shoulders while we’re both naked and slippery in a wet shower stall. He’s got me.
And when I say that, I mean he’s got me.
I crash into an orgasm that’s so intense I see little stars appear in my vision. My muscles spasm and I can feel myself clenching around his tongue. I’m shaking so hard he tightens his hold on me, the fingers pressing in my upper thighs bound to leave the same kind of marks as his teeth did. Wave after wave of pleasure keeps on coming over me, and I realize I’m being very loud. There’s just no possible way to hold it back, not even if my life depended on it.
Beckett takes his tongue out of me, softly licking my clit and wringing out every last bit I have to give him. His arms are shaking from the exertion when he finally maneuvers my body down between him and the side of the cubicle. I feel like Bambi on ice the moment my feet hit the ground, shaking like a leave and unstable as fuck. My legs might as well have been made of jello at this point.
Beckett looks down at me, being rather pleased with himself.
But his eyes are hooded, and I’m pretty sure we’re not done yet.
Let me rephrase that: I’m not done with him. I’m having my way with him now.
Before I can start acting out my own desires, the wall bordering the stall where Chester and Remy are starting to pound rhythmically. Remy is being as loud as I was, but instead of mewling moans, his deep groans resonate off the walls. And do stuff to the walls inside of me as well.
I stand on my tiptoes and press my wet body against that of Beckett. He’s wet, hard and firm all over, and when I wrap my hand around his rock solid length, he loses his composure. He presses me against the wall again, and I wrap one leg around his hip, opening myself up to him and guiding him to where I want him. No more playing around, no time for foreplay. It’s now a carnal need to get him right inside of me.
The fat head of his cock is right in front of my opening, but instead of slamming all the way in just as I want him to, he keeps hovering there. I’m so far gone that I’m not even sure what I’m doing anymore. I nibble on his lower lip, my eyes closed and my body flush against him, trying to seduce him to give me what I want. But he holds out on me.
“Please,” I whisper.
“I’m not sure we all could hear you,” he says against my lips.
“Please,” I say louder this time.
“Make them hear you beg for it. I’m sure they’d appreciate the sound of it.”
“Oh please, please fuck me already.”
“What do you think, should I give it to her?”
It’s obvious he isn’t talking to me.
“Does she have that certain look yet?” Chester asks.
“What look?” I whimper.
“The one where she seems like she’s about to die if you don’t give it to her. And if you hold out long enough, she gets the same look as when she wants to shoot someone.”
“Oh for fucks sake,” I complain while trying to impale myself on Beckett’s dick. He chuckles. And it infuriates me. At this point I’m horny, angry and desperate, scratching my nails over his back, and biting down on his pec because I don’t have any other options.
His moan echoes from the wall, not having the effect I wanted it to have. His eyes seem to be a darker shade of green right now, but it could have something to do with the lightning. Or he’s just as aroused as I am, and he’s holding out on me on purpose.
“She’s got that about to shoot me look now,” he says to my other lovers on the other side of the cubicle.
“Better give it to her,” Remy says. “Nothing good comes from that look.”
“Oh, she’s about to come good.”
“Quit trying to be funny, and fuck me,” I snap. Which I should know better than to do because if there’s someone you do not want to test, it’s Beckett. He’ll just as gladly go home with blue balls just to spite me and teach me a lesson. I figure it has something to do with his training.
The hormones win, because he slams forward, filling me with one firm thrust. He doesn’t give me any time to adjust to him and starts pistoning into me at the speed of light. I’m too stimulated to care. He’s hitting all the spots, managing to make long strokes while simultaneously going fast, hard and deep.
There are various places on a woman’s body that men and most women believe to be myths, but Beckett is proving that the A-spot is indeed very real, and is a little place of divinity that makes my insides clench.
“The sounds you make should be illegal,” Chester says, and it’s only then that I realize he’s talking to me and I’m being extremely loud. Ain’t no use trying to keep it in any way, I couldn’t even if I tried.
“This isn’t going to last long,” Beckett grunts. And I don’t fucking care. The three of them have been making me feel all kinds of hot all afternoon, then I got hauled and mauled in a bathroom stall and I wouldn’t want to hold him back even if I could have. I’m tethering on the edge myself anyway.
“Choke me,” I whisper, so lost to the moment I don’t have any inhibitions left anyway. Without question, he lays his big hand around my neck, his other still holding on to the leg that’s wrapped around his hip, and he starts cutting off my air. There’s no playing about it. I couldn’t take a breath even if I tried, and there is a tiny moment of clarity in which I realize how messed up this is. Here we are trying to find a serial killer who strangles women, and here I am getting off on the exact same thing.
What it manages to do is make the muscles in the lower half of my body clench, making sure the blood flows to all the vital parts of the body, which happens to focus mostly on the lower part of the body, making everything there feel more intense.
Which makes the orgasm that hits me feel like an asteroid falling through the atmosphere and annihilating all the dinosaurs.
I lose track of what’s happening for a moment, and I wonder if I actually fainted just now, because I blink once and Beckett’s hand isn’t around my neck anymore. Instead his nose is almost in my ear, and he’s grunting hard while he’s chasing his orgasm.
Now that I’ve come down, I feel how hard I’m being pushed against the wall, and I have serious worries about my back being black and blue tomorrow. Other than having to make sure that nobody sees that, it’s totally worth it.
Beckett follows me into a climax, roaring primally in a way I’d only ever read about in books before. It sends chills through my whole body, and despite being under the warm spray of the shower, I’m shivering.
Together, we ride it out until he’s only lazily thrusting inside of me, pumping while he doesn’t really need to anymore. It changes in some form of closeness instead of lust.
My surroundings start to come back to me after a short while, and I can hear Chester and Remy going at it. And they sound good. Like, really good.
The dirty little voyeur in me remembers the day that I sat in Chester’s room and watched them have sex, and despite just being thoroughly fucked, I want to see. With as much tenderness as I can muster I untangle myself from Beckett, standing with both feet on the wet shower floor again.
Our eyes lock, and I lay a hand on his cheek while pecking the corner of his mouth. There is some basic understanding between us, so I grab his hand and lead him to the exit of the shower, going over to the next one, simply to go look at my other lovers.
They look glorious.
Chester’s ass is flexed while he uses the same hip thrusts he just used in the workshop, the muscles in his legs rolling along with the movement. His arm is layered on Remy’s, their fingers intertwined on the side of the bathroom stall where Chester holds him down. Both their arms have thick veins popping out of them. I admire the way the light glistens on Chester’s tattooed back, all the black in shrill contrast to Remy’s virgin skin. Now that Chester’s hair is wet, it looks darker than it normally is, bringing the color of it closer to Remy’s than it usually is. At times it’s hard to see where one of them ends and the other begins, being one in that moment.
It doesn’t matter that I just got owned by Beckett, looking at them gets me all hot and bothered again.
My eyes are glued to the beauty that is unfolding right in front of my eyes. Yes, sure, sex can be a little filthy, but this? This is art, and I’m here to appreciate it.
Beckett stands behind me for a moment, his body warming my back, his large hand splayed over my belly. I get the feeling he’s observing me more than watching Chester and Remy, but I can’t tear my eyes off of them to check if that’s true. Eventually, he kisses the side of my head, lets me go and gets back into the shower stall that we came out of.
While Beckett showers, I blatantly stare at how Chester takes Remy to new heights. His hand is wrapped around his cock this time, so I won’t get a repeat of the way he came hands off last time. They gradually up their pace, the intensity of the groans and grunts they produce getting higher and I know he’s driving them both towards their climax.
When they manage to time it so that they both come in sync, I gasp at the sight. The moment they slowly start to get down from their high, moving languidly and pressing soft kisses all over whatever skin they can find, I leave their cubicle, giving them some privacy.
I almost chuckle when I realize how backwards that is.
Beckett finishes up his shower, leaving it all to myself, and while the hot water washes over me, I think about just how much we needed some fun. Remy sure knows what he’s doing.