Chapter 17 The Ones We Keep #4
Bristol reached between our bodies, positioned me at her entrance, and lifted her hips.
I pushed in.
The first inch drew a broken breath from both of us. She was soaked from our mouths and hands, but her pussy still held me tightly, opening by degrees as I pressed deeper.
"Slow," she said.
I stopped halfway.
Her legs tightened and changed the angle. A small roll of her pelvis guided me against the place she wanted.
"Now."
I sank the rest of the way inside.
Bristol's eyes closed. Her fingers threaded through mine on the cushion beside her head, and she held me fully seated while her pussy clenched in one long, deliberate squeeze.
My forehead dropped to hers.
"Jesus, Bris."
"That's the spot."
She rolled her hips less than an inch.
The pressure changed everywhere. Her clit dragged against my body. Her inner walls shifted around my shaft and tightened closer to the head. The motion was tiny enough to miss if I hadn't been buried inside her, and strong enough to make my arms shake.
Kit watched her hips. "Do that again."
Bristol did.
"How?"
"Lock him close." Bristol tightened her legs around me. "Move the pelvis, not everything else."
I tried to thrust.
Her ankles stopped me from pulling back more than a few inches.
"Shorter," she said. "Stay deep."
I gave her a short stroke.
She met it with another micro-roll, and her pussy squeezed exactly as I reached full depth. The combination ripped a groan out of me.
Bristol's mouth curved. "There."
Kit laughed softly. "You barely moved him."
"He noticed."
"I fucking noticed."
Bristol kissed me, slow and concentrated, while I found the cadence she'd asked for. Short pull. Deep push. Hold. Let her hips roll and her pussy clench before I moved again.
Every stroke stayed close enough that our bodies rubbed together. Her tits pressed against my chest. Her thighs held me. Her fingers crushed mine whenever the angle landed perfectly.
Kit kissed Bristol's neck and ran her hand down between us.
Bristol caught her wrist before she reached her clit.
"Two fingers," she said. "Start slow. Separate from him."
Kit placed two fingers over Bristol's swollen clit and circled.
Bristol's pussy snapped tight around my cock.
"Less speed. More pressure."
Kit adjusted without losing contact.
Bristol's hips rolled into the next thrust. Her mouth opened against mine, and the precise calm in her voice gave way to a rough moan.
"That?" Kit asked.
"Yes. Keep that exact circle."
Kit kept it.
I increased the force of my strokes without lengthening them.
Bristol took each thrust deep, her pelvis angled up, her legs holding me in the narrow range she'd chosen.
When I drove harder, she clenched before I reached the bottom.
When I held still, she rolled beneath me and made my cock feel every muscle inside her.
Kit stared at the point where our bodies met. "You time the squeeze."
Bristol nodded, already breathing too hard for a longer answer.
"Show me."
"Nash, stop. Stay inside."
I went still at full depth.
Bristol released around me, waited one beat, then clenched from deep inside in a slow progression that traveled along my cock.
My hips jerked even though her legs held them.
"Fuck."
Kit's eyes widened. "Do it while he moves."
Bristol's smile carried a flash of quiet wickedness. "That's the idea."
I started again.
She timed the next clench to my inward stroke. Kit's fingers kept their separate circle over her clit. Three rhythms worked at once: my short deep thrust, Kit's steady pressure, and Bristol's tiny roll and timed grip from beneath.
The three of us stopped talking for a while.
There wasn't room for it.
Bristol's breaths struck my mouth. Kit's fingers made wet sounds between our bodies. My hips hit Bristol's harder while her heels pressed into my back and demanded I stay close. The pontoon held steady beneath us, but the lounge cushions shifted with every thrust.
Bristol's control sharpened instead of fading. "A little right."
I changed the angle.
"Too far. Back. There."
I held it.
"Harder now. Same depth."
I gave her what she asked for.
Her cry broke against my lips. She pulled one hand from mine and gripped my ass, forcing me tight against her on every inward stroke.
Kit kissed her. Bristol opened immediately, tongue meeting hers while I fucked her in the short, brutal cadence she'd built. Kit never stopped circling her clit. Bristol moaned into her mouth, then reached for me and dragged my face into the kiss until all three of us shared the same wet breath.
When our mouths separated, Bristol looked wrecked.
Her hair clung to her cheek. Sweat shone along her throat. Her exact instructions were coming apart into single words.
"Deep."
I drove in.
"Hold."
I stayed buried.
She rolled beneath me, clenching hard enough to pull a curse from my mouth.
"Again," Kit said, her voice low with wonder.
Bristol did it again.
I was too close now. My balls had drawn tight, every short thrust sending pressure straight down my spine. I tried to ease back.
Bristol's legs locked harder.
"No." Her voice cracked. "Don't leave the angle."
"Bris, baby, I'm going to come."
"Good."
Kit increased the pressure on her clit. Bristol's entire body jolted beneath me.
"Keep fucking her," Kit said. Her free hand spread over my back, holding me to Bristol. "She wants you with her."
I thrust again. Bristol met me with a desperate roll, and her pussy started fluttering around my cock.
"Baby." The soft word sounded startlingly naked in her ruined voice. "Inside me. Don't pull out."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Come with me."
Kit's fingers moved faster, still holding the exact pressure Bristol had chosen. I drove into her in short, hard strokes. Bristol clenched on every one, the timing slipping as pleasure overtook precision.
Her first orgasmic contraction hit without warning.
Her pussy locked around my cock. Her nails dug into my back. A cry tore from her mouth, sharp and unguarded, and her hips rolled up so hard she took me to the base.
That clench broke me.
I came inside her.
The first pulse shot deep as Bristol came around me, her pussy milking my cock in hard, rhythmic contractions. I thrust once more and another thick surge of cum filled her. Heat spread between us. Her legs dragged me closer while her body shook beneath mine.
"Yes," she sobbed. "Fuck, Nash. Give me all of it."
I did.
Cum pumped into her in heavy spurts, each one drawn out by the clenches rippling around my shaft.
Kit kept working Bristol's clit through every contraction.
Bristol's orgasm climbed instead of fading.
Her hips rolled wildly now, no precision left, only need.
She crushed my hand, kissed Kit with a broken moan, then turned back to me and caught my mouth while the last pulses emptied inside her.
I stayed deep and let her take them.
My hips jerked through the final spurt. Bristol's pussy squeezed again, weaker but still hungry, and warm cum began to leak around the base of my cock onto her thighs.
Kit's hand moved from my back to Bristol's breast. She held both of us while the aftershocks rolled through.
"I've got you," Kit whispered.
Bristol's legs remained locked around me.
Mine weren't steady enough to complain.
I stayed inside Bristol while her orgasm softened from hard contractions to faint, irregular pulses. Her ankles finally unlocked, but her legs remained wrapped around me. Every time I shifted, her arms tightened across my back.
"Not yet, baby," she whispered.
"Wasn't leaving."
Kit lay close beside us, one hand moving over Bristol's breast, the other tracing slow lines down my spine. She kissed Bristol's temple and then my shoulder, keeping contact while our breathing settled.
When Bristol's legs began trembling harder beneath me, I eased my weight onto one forearm and slowly withdrew.
She made a small, rough sound and reached for my hip.
Cum followed my softening cock out of her pussy. It ran over her inner thigh in a warm streak and gathered on the cushion beneath us. Bristol looked down at the mess, then back up at me.
"Your boat may never recover."
"It'll survive."
"That's optimistic."
Kit leaned over us. "He's a professional. Upholstery is one of his many skills."
"Not tonight," I said. "Tonight it can wait."
Kit reached into the storage bench at the end of the lounge and pulled out the thick lake blanket. She shook it open, and we shifted just enough to get beneath it without putting on a single piece of clothing.