52. Zeb
ZEB
I’m having a fucking religious experience.
I’d say out of body, but I am very much in my body. And my body is very much in Ember’s. So is Frank’s.
And it’s fantastic.
I should be freaking right the fuck out. Instead, it feels like the most natural thing in the world for both of us to take care of her, to see to her more thoroughly than either of us could do alone, to increase her pleasure to its fullest.
Fullest being very much the operative word.
It’s clear from her responses that Ember’s loving it. She started moaning and hasn’t taken a break yet, except to say, “Oh fuck, oh god, oh fuck, don’t stop.”
We’re not stopping. I could do this forever.
I’m nuzzling her neck, my hand just above the place where her body and Frank’s meet, my fingers working her clit. He’s cupping her breast, teasing her nipple, and we’re taking turns kissing her.
She’s come once already. I’m nowhere near done, and I don’t think Frank is either. We started really slowly, but once it was clear she’d adjusted and was into it, we got a rhythm going.
Why does this feel so right? I don’t know. But it does. Like we were all made for this, made for each other.
We can’t let her go. We can’t.
Whatever it takes, we have to get her back.