33. Hailey #2
Obviously, Grace isn't going to pre-school today. Lennon will call them later to let them know she isn't well and won't be attending. Meantime she's still out for the count, fast asleep in her bed.
Dean's already had a word with a couple of the farmhands. Explained it was a busy night, told them to do what they can for the day without troubling the three men.
Back in the kitchen, Dean pours whiskey. Reed toasts.
"To family."
"To victory," I add.
"To love," says Lennon.
We all go quiet, thinking of the little girl he adores so much.
I look at the three of them with new eyes now.
The way they had sprung into action last night was almost scary.
The way they had changed from relaxed farmers with nothing more to worry about than the weather and making sure the horses were fed to elite soldiers on a life-and-death rescue mission had been nothing short of awesome.
I mean… I'd seen their bulging muscles and felt the firmness of their skin against my own. I'd known they were fit… but this—this was different. And here they are, the three of them. A trio so awesome that I doubt anything could stop them. And I am here with them. Alone to all intents and purposes.
And it occurs to me, that we've all had a lot of adrenaline coursing through our bodies over the last twelve hours. We need some way to relax, some way to let it all out…
Hmm. I wonder…
"You boys must all be pretty tense after all that action tonight…"
They look up.
A silence falls. Thick. Expectant. I stand, slowly pulling my sweater over my head, revealing the soft skin beneath. Their eyes all stare at me, hungrily, lustfully, needily.
"Let's go upstairs. I think we all deserve… a little release."
Lennon locks the front door, takes a last check into Grace's bedroom (which is downstairs) before we all head upstairs to Dean's room.
Why Dean's room? The shower.
The shower in Dean's room is huge. It's an eight-feet-by-ten-feet glass partitioned space, with no less than two ceiling roses that emit a combined downpour that has a lot more in common with a tropical rainforest monsoon than with the soft pitter-patter of forest drizzle.
Dean pulls the handle to start the deluge, giving the water time to heat up whilst we strip.
Stepping into the powerful downpour, I gasp with delight.
The sensation on my skin is nothing short of amazing.
A thousand pinpoints of water, hot, tingling, the steam rising up, my skin pinkening.
A soap-filled hand massages my shoulder.
Another caresses a breast. A third strokes my thighs.
I close my eyes and moan with the overload of sweet sensations coursing through my entire body.
I turn, as hands touch, kneed, fondle, stroke my limbs and my torso.
Gentle one moment, strong the next. I turn and turn, the fingers now finding their way between my thighs, across the swell of my buttocks.
My eyes still closed I let out a moan, only for it to be cut off by a pair of lips—I don't know whose—pressing down gently upon my own, in a passionate kiss.
I respond, my tongue keen to explore my lover's mouth, feel his teeth, entangle his tongue against my own.
There's a body sliding up against me from behind now, the soapiness of both of our skin making it seemingly frictionless as we rub against each other, a silk-like sensation that makes every nerve ending vibrate in delight.
A strong hand now lifts my left leg, and I can feel something hard against my groin, stiff and upright and urgent.
Something that seeks out my entrance, that wants to be inside me as much as I desire to be taken by it.
I reach my hand down to guide it, and I hear a gasp of 'oh!
' as I grip the rigid member gently, but firmly.
I gasp at its size, its girth. I want it inside me.
I want to be filled up by it. I position myself and then I feel an upward push, a moment of pressure, and then he is inside me.
I groan, as hands continue to caress my breasts, my buttocks, my hair, my back.
So many hands, such gentleness, such sweet, sweet sensations.
The rigid member inside of me stirs—I still haven't opened my eyes, still don't know who it is that's inside of me, I don't want to know—and then drives upwards, separating my walls.
I massage his cock with my vagina, feeling the half agony, half ecstasy of his penis rubbing against the inside of my tunnel.
Oh my God! I am cumming, shuddering, gasping.
Strong hands keep me upright as I almost lose consciousness.
The water cuts off. I am gripped, turned, lifted, smothered in softness of towels.
I am gently rubbed and patted dry, then picked up once again and laid down on the bed.
The men surround me. Kissing my toes, the insides of my thighs, my fingers, my shoulders and neck.
I'm gently turned again, until I'm kneeling.
I feel another cock at my lips, and instinctively open my mouth, and the head pushes gently inside.
I run my tongue around it, moaning in delight as I feel another sensation at my backside.
The heat of a man, kneeling behind me. Another penis, but this one is probing at my pussy, finding its own way in.
I am speared at both ends. My two lovers find a rhythm as they fuck me.
In and out, in and out. I am moaning again, gasping, crying out.
Someone is holding my hand. Someone is gently stroking my hair.
It's too much, too much… but the pace tightens, harder, faster, reaching for the peak—and then it comes, and I cum, like I've never cum before.
In a great scream of sheer, bliss-filled sensation. I lose consciousness, I drift.
I wake up to the sound of breathing. I am tucked up in bed, warm and snug. Around me, the men are slumbering. I smile. I am warm, comfortable, safe . I close my eyes again and allow myself to drift back into a dreamless sleep.