35 - Fallon
~ 35 ~
FALLON
I was lying on my side, sleeping in a thong and a half-shirt, when I heard the door creak. The sky had purple in it, but it wasn’t light yet. Even so, I could see the silhouette of what had to be Dalton; peeling off his shirt, and dropping his shorts before he climbed into my bed.
My legs were already scissored. I lay perfectly still as he ran his fingers up and down over my panty-covered crotch, two or three times. As always, they came back wet. I was still pretending to be asleep when he pulled my thong over the top globe of my ass. With careful movements he scissored my bottom leg, entering me easily.
MMMMmmmm …
He was rock-hard and enormous; most likely sporting the mother of all morning wood. His hand went to my hips as he began fucking me sideways, burrowing into me deep. For a minute or two I let him have his fun, grinding away while I moaned softly and pretended to still be asleep. When he began kissing the exposed side of my face I let my eyelids flutter open. I turned gently so I could kiss him too, still moaning, still groaning, our mouths hovering hotly…
I wasn’t all that surprised when he grunted and stiffened, and I saw the change in his eyes. My smile was all the permission he needed.
“Do it.”
Dalton came powerfully, shooting inside me, contracting over and over as his gaze never left mine. I stared into his wide blue eyes with my own sleepy ones, seeing the passion, the fire, the sexiness of his loss of control. For those precious few seconds he was all mine; his inhibitions demolished, all restraint melted away in the fiery core of my raw femininity. I watched him soar through a thousand levels of rapture. Pass from the exquisite pleasure of breeding me so fully and deeply, to the semi-conscious return to earth as he drifted back to reality.
He was still staring into my eyes as he slowly rocked in and out, sanity returning, leaving me a full, sticky mess. He slapped me once on the rump — gently this time, not hard — then jumped up, pulled his shorts back on, and nodded toward the door.
“I’m late for practice,” he murmured, bending quickly to kiss me. “Sorry! I owe you one.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” I smiled sleepily, scissoring my legs against his warmth. “And feel free to wake me up like that anytime you want.”
At the time, it was a fun thing to say. But little did I know the can of worms that last sentence would open.
After that, ‘quick-hitting’ me in the morning became a thing, as the boys liked to call it. It was invented by Dalton, ‘perfected’ by Emerson, but I was most frequented by Trey, who just couldn’t seem to get enough. Sometimes, if I were more awake than normal, I’d push one of them onto their backs, spread my hands across their chest, and grind one out. More often than not though, I’d lay there sleepily, dreamily, letting them have their way. They’d use me one by one, before or even after practice, scissoring my legs apart and filling me to overflowing. They departed just as quickly too, leaving me filled, seeping, warm… as well as feeling deliciously used and dirty.
The sex was wonderful of course, but even more than that, I enjoyed accommodating them. It felt amazing to start my day making my men so happy, and afterwards in the shower it felt strangely powerful, watching the combined results of their lovemaking swirl down the drain as I washed my body and wrung the shampoo from my hair.
The mornings were theirs, fueled by unbridled athletic energy and brimming with the testosterone of their latest workout. The evenings however, were mine. I reveled in my increased libido by dragging one or more of them into the nearest bedroom whenever the mood struck me. Once there I teased them, pleased them, and took whatever I wanted. Sometimes I’d dress up in something wicked, or fun, or just downright dirty, then whisper the most unspeakable things directly into the boys’ ears. All while fucking them in front of each other, grinning nefariously, and blowing kisses to whoever was next.
Netflix and chill turned into Netflix and drill, more often than not. Halfway through, the boys would just move my panties to the side and have an amazing time not watching the movie. My schoolwork began to suffer, and it was hard to get certain assignments done. It got to the point where I did my work at the library before coming home, but after what Trey and I had done there, even that place reminded me of sex.
Trey was the insatiable one, and such a hard-hitter that he always left me sore. Emerson liked it rough. He enjoyed teasing me, blindfolding me. Bending me over his thick, muscular legs and spanking me until I was so wet he could finger me to a tear-filled, shuddering climax, before spreading my legs and screwing me deep into the bed.
And then there was the time Dalton showed up as I was getting dressed, with the biggest hard-on I’d ever seen in my life. He came up behind me as I was standing up in front of my full-length mirror, wrapping one arm around my waist and the other just beneath my chin to force my head back. Entering me in a single stroke, he whispered filthy things in my ear, telling me how he’d been thinking about me, and jerking off to me all day. He did all this while savagely fucking me until I was coming hard around him, and he was grunting and throbbing and filling me up. He left the room just as abruptly as he’d appeared, leaving me standing there naked in the aftermath; dizzy from the intensity of my orgasm, legs trembling, his hot seed running down the insides of both my thighs.
And it was times like those, when I wondered how I could ever go back to a normal, vanilla relationship.