Epilogue
WRANGLER
Zoe relaxes into Poet’s touch and rolls back her head as he kisses her neck.
“You smell divine, sweetheart.”
God, it’s been too long since I last heard her moan.
“It’s bedtime.” Bullwhip comes up behind her. Snakes an arm around her waist. “I love seeing you all naked and wet on the mattress.”
“No. Here,” she says.
“What’s that, sweetheart?”
“I want you here. Bend me over every surface. I want to be fucked so hard I require a wheelchair tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, Zoe.” Poet is still working on her neck, and I ghost my hand over her plump lips. She takes my fingers into her mouth, and I gasp. “You’re gonna kill me.”
My fingers exit her mouth with a pop! “What? You can’t handle it?”
“ You are the one who won’t be able to handle it in a minute.”
Lovingly, I press my lips to hers. We share a slow kiss, wet and hot, and the sensation shoots straight to my dick. It springs to life. It hasn’t for a few days.
“I suspect,” I say, caressing her ear, “that all three of us have big loads to give you tonight.”
“I do,” says Poet. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, darling?”
“Take off my clothes,” she says.
“ Shhhhh .” Bullwhip puts a finger to her lips. “Why are we rushing when we have all the time in the world?”
“Exactly,” says Zoe. “All the time in the world to go as many rounds as we please. Now, fuck me fast and hard and deep, and please , do it now.”
Poet, Bullwhip, and I all share a glance. She presents a good point. We do have time on our side, and we’re far enough from civilization for nobody to bother us.
It’s a race, then. Who can take the most clothes off Zoe.
Wrangler fights off the shirt, and my hands fight with the waistband of her shorts. Poet gets there first. Slaps away my hand.
“Hey!”
“I’m the one who spent a night behind bars again .”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
Poet is too busy discarding the shorts, and I get to her panties first. They’re black lace, and I tease a finger up her pussy over the material before removing them.
Zoe twitches.
Suddenly it’s a new race.
Who can get inside of her first?
Poet rolls down the panties, unbuckles his pants and rolls them down.
But it’s Bullwhip that enters her first, already ahead of the game.
Her scream ripples through the house. “OH! FUCK!”
Bullwhip presses her up against the faulty door, and she arches her back to take in more of his cock. Her hands clutch the door handle, causing the thing to open and shut in rhythm to Bully’s thrusts.
He fucks hard.
I spring out my own dick and pleasure myself watching. Her tanned skin glows in the lamplight, red hair splayed everywhere. Poet reaches forward and smooths it back into a makeshift ponytail, exposing her bare back that I can’t help but smooth my fingers over.
My hands then find her chest. I palm both of her breasts, and tweak both nipples.
Her breath hitches, moans rising in pitch.
Bullwhip smacks her ass, and the recoil does something to my dick that no woman has managed to do before—not even Sheila. Words can’t describe it. The feeling is too intense. This level of horniness is too great. My knees buckle, and I lean against the wall to gather strength.
Her hard pink nipples…
The squelching sounds coming from her dripping wet pussy as Bullwhip fucks her…
It’s overwhelming.
I could go into cardiac arrest.
“You need to hurry up,” I urge Bullwhip. “I can’t wait.”
“Tough luck. I got here first.”
I pain myself even more by looking at her pussy. The way it accommodates his size is phenomenal, and it spreads out like a flower coming into bloom to receive his penetration.
Before, I thought my arousal was down to the high-risk situations we put ourselves in around Zoe. It was the bathroom first. Then it was Felix’s mansion.
But I think back to the masquerade. There we were safe, in our own little bubble.
And I was still just as fucking horny then.
“I’m gonna come,” moans Zoe.
“Let’s do it together, sweetheart.” Bullwhip adjusts her grip on her. One hand comes to rest on her hip, and the second palms the wall. The rhythm becomes erratic as he pounds into her with what little energy he has left.
“Inside!” she commands. “Don’t pull out.”
Bullwhip gives one last thrust, and then releases.
Zoe’s satisfied moan fills the air.
Then, “Who’s next?”
I rush in as second place.
“Over the kitchen counter,” she demands.
I grab her hand and we cross the room together. Zoe bends over the counter when we arrive, and extends her hands over the surface.
I raise her ass to plunge a finger into her pussy. We could fill a bucket with her wetness and survive a drought.
“You’re so fucking wet, princess.” I part her folds and locate her hole, then line myself up with her and plunge in.
Her walls grab me instantly.
“That’s it.” I twirl her hair, pull it taut. “Arch your back for me, sweetheart. Let me feel more of you.”
She does. And I venture deeper.
Her breath hitches again. “That feels so…”
Poet rushes to join the action, stroking a finger over her clit.
Her screams fill the air.
“We should see,” says Bullwhip, redressed in leather pants, “how many times we can make our darling come tonight.”
“Three, at least,” says Poet.
I grit my teeth, my own arousal building. “I think more.”
“I think so too,” Bullwhip says.
“She’s a dirty girl.” I spank her ass.
She sticks it out for another slap.
Bullwhip does the honor.
Her recoiling ass cheeks make my cock twitch.
“She’s our dirty girl,” I say.
She starts to move her hips in circular motions, her second hole occasionally winking between her two globes.
Carefully, to test the water, I circle my finger around the outside.
She squeals.
“How’s that, darling?”
“I…have never been touched there before.”
“We can stop, sweetheart,” says Poet. “If you would like. Anything you want.”
“NO!” Her hips crash into mine. “Use me however you like. My body is yours.”
“See?” I turn to the others. “I told you she was a dirty girl.”
Poet reaches to run his hands up her chest. “Darling, you’re feeling quite hot. I’d hate for you to pass out from the heat. Shall we cool you down?”
“I’m not ready to stop,” she says.
I flick her clit.
“AH! Oh my god!” she screams. “I wish you could feel how good this is.”
“I do feel it, sweetheart.”
Her walls close in.
I plunge deep inside of her again at an angle that I’ve come to realize is her favorite.
Maybe I’m dead. It’s the only explanation for how I made it to heaven. Her aspirated breaths echo in my ears, and her hot, writhing walls pulsate around my length.
Cum shoots out of me, and her pussy receives it well.
I choke out a groan.
Spill my seed.
Zoe looks over her shoulder as soon as I exit as if to ask, “Who’s next?”
“On the couch.” Poet points across the room.
Bullwhip scoops her up, carrying her over.
“You still wanna go?” Poet sits next to her. “We can take a break.”
“No.” She props up on her elbows. “I don’t think you understand how much I’ve been waiting for this moment.” She pauses to catch her breath, then continues, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the masquerade. You’ve all been living in my mind, rent free. At first I thought it was because you were bikers, because you reminded me of them , but discovering that it was you from three years ago…it’s changed everything.” She looks at us all, out of breath from the monologue. “You don’t know what you do to me.”
And she doesn’t know what she does to us.
“Lie back down, sweetheart,” instructs Poet. “And let us take care of you.”
It’s not even been five minutes, but I could go again. The sight of her sweaty, naked body has that effect on me. The wanton look in her eyes. Her pursed, puffy lips. Even her collarbone sends me into overdrive because it’s on her body.
Don’t even get me started on the perfect swell of her breasts, and the tight shell of her pussy that blesses my eyes every time she opens her legs.
She spreads them wide now.
But Poet doesn’t dive straight in. He places an ice tray on the table beside the couch and takes out an ice cube.
Zoe props herself up on her elbows again to ask, “What are you?—”
“Quiet now. Just relax. Focus on the sensation.”
My cock rises to attention again as Poet teases the ice cube over her body. It reduces in size in seconds, and shortly melts.
He grabs another one. Trails it over her nipple.
Her body spasms, and a hand reaches between her legs.
“Ah, ah!” I remove the hand. “Only we can touch you there, princess.”
Poet rubs the cube over the other nipple. “You’re so hot, darling.” The second cube melts, wetting her breasts.
“Where shall I put the third one?” Poet grabs another from the tray.
“My pussy,” she demands.
Poet instead runs the cube up the inside of her thigh. She twitches, and wetness drips from her pussy.
My cock throbbing, I take it into my hands and begin to stroke it, already on the brink of climax. Bullwhip does the same, and we both stand over her, pleasuring ourselves.
Her cheeks blush the same pink color as her nipples and pussy.
Precum beads out of the tip of my cock when Poet makes it to her folds.
She screams. Arches her back. “I need you inside of me this instant.”
“Look at the other two,” says Poet. “They’re enjoying this very much. Spread your legs, sweetheart.” He aids her. “Let’s tease them even more.”
I’ll never grow tired of seeing her pussy.
Never.
Poet dives in between her legs and laps up her wetness. Then, he butters her remaining juices onto his dick.
“Grab my legs,” she requests. “Both of you. Like before.”
I take the left. Bullwhip the right.
Simultaneously, all three of us stroke her pussy.
Her entire body shakes.
“ Please .” Zoe’s eyebrows part in longing. “I’m begging you. Poet…”
Poet situates himself on the couch between Zoe’s legs and thrusts into her so hard that her breasts jiggle. She sings the most wonderful tune.
Bullwhip and I raise her legs up above her head, almost folding her over. She’s surprisingly flexible.
“Suck my nipples, one of you, please.”
Bullwhip obeys, and rolls the blushed nubs through his fingertips.
I insert my hand between her legs, minding Poet’s dick, and locate her clit.
Her eyes screw shut, and her lips part in ecstasy. “YES! YES! YES!”
“That’s it, darling.” Poet grabs her hips and drags her closer to him. “Let go and come for us. That’s a sweet girl.”
His thrusts become erratic.
Zoe flings a hand behind her to clutch the back of the couch.
“One of you, in my mouth. Now.”
Bullwhip is too mesmerized with her breasts, so I volunteer as tribute and insert my dick into her pretty little mouth. Despite the small size, she accommodates me well, length fitting into her throat no problem.
Her cries become muffled.
Slowly, I thrust in and out of her mouth.
She moans, and it vibrates the tip of my cock.
“Come, darling. That’s it,” says Poet.
She squirts then, and oh my god, it’s the hottest thing I’ve seen in life.
“You look so beautiful when you come undone, darling,” says Bullwhip, continuing with her breasts.
Poet pounds into her even faster, and grits his teeth, chasing his own orgasm. “Turn around, baby. I want to come all over your ass.”
She flips in an instant, baring her two cheeks. I can’t help but spank her, and this elicits a surprising moan out of her.
Poet withdraws. And releases.
“Mmmmm,” sighs Zoe. “That feels so good.”
My own arousal then catches up to me, and I see stars as I come for the second time today, all over her bare ass.
It’s gonna be a long night.
Breath returning to normal, Zoe crashes into the couch and shuts her eyes. “Oh my god.” There’s not much left of her voice. “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk tomorrow.”
“There’s no need to,” Wrangler says. “You’re welcome to stay here for however long you need, no stress at all.”
A tired smile rounds out her cheeks. “Thanks guys.”
We should get cleaned up, but we need five minutes first—I imagine all four of us piling into the shower will result in another round.
Outside, the moon shines bright, and stars fleck across the sky.
I never thought I’d feel love again after Sheila, or get over her death, but here we are. Time is a funny thing, and every time Zoe removes her clothes, I lose track of it completely.
Time used to mean everything to me. It marked the anniversary of Sheila’s death, and measured how long she’d been gone for. Counting the years commemorated her in some way, and was a way of helping me remember her.
But she’s dead.
And one can even argue I was more dead than her for constantly lamenting the past.
And then in walks my biggest regret from the past.
Except she’s not a regret—she’s a new start.
I refused to believe life could improve after Sheila’s death. My teen years were the best days of my life. Working on the ranch, meeting Sheila and experiencing love for the first time…then having it all flipped on its head. I thought that was it. All life had in store. You grow up with the assumption that past the age of thirty, you arrive at the peak of the roller coaster and travel downhill from there.
But at thirty-six and with a full head of gray hair, I’m only just approaching the top.
And something tells me it will continue this way for a while.
Sweat is starting to stick in places I’d prefer it not to, so I rise from the chair and head to the bathroom. “Anyone care to join me?”
Zoe clambers off the couch, and this then motivates the other two up, seeing that we might be going for a second round.
I crank the faucet.
Zoe’s about to step in, but then turns around and smiles. “I love you guys.”
I return the smile. “We love you too.”
The End
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