Chapter 36 #2
My hips roll with a loud groan, my ankles crossing behind Tripp’s neck as the two of them work what feels like every sensitive, desperate spot in my body with an almost synchronized rhythm.
Every sense is overwhelmed, every nerve vibrant and buzzing with intense pleasure.
Hands bite into my flesh – I’m not even sure whose, at this point. Both of them are all over every part of me, teasing, playing, licking. Their touch feels infinite.
My eyes meet the woman in the mirror. Her mouth falls open, a flush creeping across her cheeks as two beautiful men devour her body from every angle.
And then I remember…
She is me.
I am the woman with one man between her legs and another underneath her. I am the woman whose body they are so eager to bring pleasure to.
I cry out as a second finger slips inside of me, but the sound is cut off as Connor turns my head toward his to claim my mouth in a kiss. His tongue slides against mine, and as my husband works the most sensitive spot that he knows all too well, my body tremors.
Vibration hits me with a hum, forcing my hips to rock against the mouth devouring me. Connor grips my chin as I chase my orgasm, forcing my face in the direction of the mirror.
“Look how pretty you are when you come for us, Princess,” he tells me. His hands move down my body, sliding between my thighs to spread them wide open while I whine. “Make that pretty pussy come in your husband’s mouth. Let him know how good it feels when he fucks you with his tongue.”
Tripp’s movements don’t stop until I’m practically flying off of the bed, sent into near orbit by a radiant orgasm. Delicate kisses are pressed against my clit, my thighs, my knees, as I come down from my high, my body melting against Connor’s while my fingers comb through our husband’s hair.
Behind me, I feel the shift of a body, the rustling of moving fabric following after as Connor pulls his cock from his pleated slacks with a groan. Tripp’s body slides up between my legs, his lips meeting mine to let me taste myself on his tongue.
“Baby, I think it’s time to give Schepp his birthday present,” he tells me.
My heart pounds against my chest, my teeth tugging at my lower lip as I slide off of the bed on wobbling legs.
In my absence, my husband’s hands take hold of our partner’s slacks, dragging them down past his ankles and onto the floor.
As he reaches for the buttons on his dress shirt, their lips collide, the two of them left starving after their appetizer.
And I feel so delightfully full.
Tripp’s shirt is pulled off of his body as I reach the night stand and pull the harness from its drawer, squirming anxiously as I slide each of my legs into their designated slots.
The most delicious sounds flow from our bed as I secure the attachment into place, reaching into the drawer for a bottle of lubricant.
At the closing of the drawer, an uncertain look shoots over Connor’s shoulders as our husband guides him onto his hands and knees. When their eyes meet again, Tripp offers him a wink, the corner of his mouth pulling up into mischief.
“Let’s see if a good memory can outshine a bad one, huh?” He teases.
Shaking palms slide across the skin of Connor’s ass, massaging into his flesh as I climb into the space behind him and spread him open. His skin is soft and supple, and I chuckle at what I believe to be a hint of my coconut and lime body scrub wafting off of him.
Birthday sex.
I overheard him talking to Tripp once, telling him that birthday sex was his favorite, because even on a bad birthday, it was still better than everyday sex. I can only imagine what he’d spent all of that time doing in the bathroom before joining us upstairs.
Bringing my lips to his skin, I leave a rose pink mark on his ass as I pull away from him.
Connor feeds a desperate groan to my husband as the pad of my thumb meets the sensitive skin just before his entrance, my tongue joining it moments later in a delicate stroke.
I let my eyes drift closed while my tongue works to coax whines from his lips, my palms making a slow crawl along the lengths of his thighs.
I may have had my moment, but this night is about him. It’s about showing him that he matters; that his wants and needs, even the ones that someone else has made him too afraid to express, matter to us.
It’s about showing him that he’s safe here.
Pulling away from him as he melts into the bedding, I reach for the bottle next to him to coat lubricant along the surface of the toy attached to my hips. A hesitant glance to my husband is met with a smile and an affirmative dip of his chin as I notch the tip behind Connor.
“Is that okay, Honey?” I ask him as I carefully inch the sculpted clear silicone inside of him.
“So good,” he says with a whine, his hand balling into the bedding beneath him.
The glitter inside of the toy shines as the light hits it, offering a certain softness to an action that feels so harsh.
My palm trails gently down the length of his spine as I pull out and push back in, letting him adjust before I move my hips faster.
He’s not silent when he fucks me, by any means, but while I fuck him…the sounds coming out of him are almost enough to make me feel high.
As their lips meet once more, Tripp happily devours every moan that floats from Connor’s throat, even in spite of the need screaming at him from behind his own zipper.
“Fuck him harder, baby,” Tripp tells me with his thumb trailing across our partner’s lower lip.
I tighten my grip to give myself security as I slam my hips against Connor’s, forcing desperately whined curses from his lips as his body lowers and his cheek presses into the mattress.
“That’s it,” my husband tells me encouragingly.
With one hand disappearing beyond the corner of the mattress, the clink of Tripp’s belt buckle quietly announces its exit. His cock leaks at the tip as he pulls himself to a standing position, lifting the hem of his t-shirt to his chin as he offers himself long, pulsing strokes.
He holds my gaze as he takes Connor by the jaw, his mouth ticking up at the corner as he slides his tip into our partner’s waiting mouth, and I force my silicone cock deeper inside of him as he moans around my husband’s.
I let my hands explore Connor’s body, trailing across the toned muscle in his back and down the length of his arms, sprinkled with only a few small pieces of ink. Tributes to the people that he’s lost, and messages to himself that he needs reminders for.
As his hand finds its way around his cock, stroking and teasing his tip, my husband reaches for the back of my head to tangle his fingers into my hair and pull me close to him.
“I wish you could see yourself right now, making him take that cock,” he breathes against my lips.
I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips, or the hot blush creeping across my cheeks. “You like it?”
A low groan forces its way from his throat. “I love it.”
Connor lets out a strangled groan between us as our lips meet, Tripp’s tongue swirling against mine, and his body shifts, his hips grinding hard against mine.
Every muscle is tense, every breath jagged.
As his movements stop, with my toy buried deep inside of him, his fist tightens in the bedding, warm jets of white firing out of him as grunts escape his lips.
My palm slides against his back, massaging into his muscle as his body melts into the mattress, one hand on the base of our husband’s cock while his mouth works the length of it. My legs tremble, not because of overuse, but because I’m not sure that I’ve breathed since I slipped into this harness.
Maybe I haven’t breathed in years.
A sting settles behind my eyes, but I push it away with a slow and gentle glide of my hips, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth as Connor’s fills with cum. A thumb dragged across his lips cleans up what he doesn’t swallow.
In the silence that surrounds us, we settle, the three of us piling into the shower together. It’s a tight fit; none of us are left with much room to so much as pivot side to side, but we manage to get ourselves cleaned up and refreshed.
The time on the small clock pinned to the wall suggests that we definitely will not be making it to dinner tonight, though.