4. Melody
MELODY
I half expect them to start ripping my clothes off, but the only thing that really changes is the feeling that we’re not circling each other anymore. We’re moving slowly in the same direction, even if that direction still ends in my clothes getting ripped off.
Mad Dog replaces Riptide in front of me. His kiss is more demanding than Riptide’s, but his lips are every bit as warm. He puts his hands on my waist and lifts me away from Rebel, who starts taking off his jacket and shirt.
I’m straddling Mad Dog’s lap, chest to chest, with his hand in my hair. Beneath me, I can feel him getting hard as I rock against him with every stroke of his tongue. It scares the sense back into me for at least a moment.
I pull away, bracing my hands against his shoulders. “Wait. I—”
“You what, honey? Too much?”
“No, but… I’ve just never done this before.” I wish I had as much self-confidence as they do.
“You’re a virgin?” Mad Dog furrows his brows in question.
“No! No. Look, it’s probably stupid, but I’m afraid I’m going to do this all wrong or something.”
Rebel kneels down next to us. Reaching out, he wraps a curl of my hair around his finger and twirls it gently. “Trust me, honey, that’s impossible.”
I want to believe him. I’ll never get an opportunity like this again, I’m sure of it. It’s just daring to take that final step and letting go.
“He’s right.” Riptide leans in. “It’s our job to make it good for you, not the other way around.”
“One of those benefits you were talking about earlier?”
“Exactly.” He kisses the side of my neck, just as Rebel slides his fingers into my hair and Mad Dog kisses me again. I close my eyes and let the sensations wash over me, still not quite believing this is real.
I draw a sharp breath through my nose as the hem of my T-shirt is untied and tugged upward.
A fraction of a moment later, my bra is unlatched and Riptide kisses downward, leaving a trail on my skin that’s cooled by the evening air.
It wouldn’t take much to leave me topless and exposed to all three of them, not to mention anyone who might walk by.
I keep my eyes shut, pretending that’s not a possibility.
“You okay?” Rebel whispers into my ear.
I am. My little nod breaks my kiss with Mad Dog, but he has no problem reclaiming what’s his.
They take their time, surrounding me and getting me used to being touched.
Even with my bra loose, they don’t immediately start groping.
Instead Rebel takes my wrist and presses my hand against his own bare chest. He’s burning up, his skin hot under my exploring fingers.
Just a hint of soft fuzz tickles my fingertips over the hard muscle of his pecs.
Riptide lifts my arms, and they smoothly take off both my shirt and bra. Mad Dog’s warm breath puffs over my skin just before he puts his mouth on my breast, flicking my nipple with his tongue and sending a little shock down to my pussy. I grind over the bulge in his jeans, stoking the burn.
When Rebel leans me back to kiss me, I reach up and bury my fingers in his hair. The move arches me right into Mad Dog’s mouth, and I reach out blindly for Riptide, who takes my hand and presses his lips to the racing pulse on my wrist.
The guys were right. Three of them at once is the good kind of crazy.
They ease me onto a makeshift blanket of our discarded clothes and surround me, sheltering me inside a little bubble of safety.
No matter how I twist or turn, there are hands and mouths, stinging nips of sharp teeth followed by a soothing stroke or lick.
Rough hands tangle in my hair, and my eyes drift closed.
I start losing track of who is doing what because it doesn’t really matter.
By the time the fly on my jeans is pulled down, I’m almost ready to take matters into my own hands, but there’s the jingle of a belt being opened, and I open my eyes to see what’s happening.
Rebel’s watching me with his dark gaze as he guides my hand downward, over his chiseled abs, until I’ve got him in my hand, thick and pulsing against my palm.
Holy shit. I know my experience is limited, but I didn’t think they came in this size.
Tentatively, I slide my fist down until I reach the root, and then back up to the tip. The slickness of precum coats my palm, and the next stroke goes easier. Is this even real life?
He chuckles quietly. “You’re not gonna hurt me, honey.”
“I’m more worried about the other way around,” I admit.
“His ego isn’t what needs stroking,” Mad Dog says with a snort. “You’ll be just fine, baby.”
I giggle as Riptide works my jeans over my hips.
After the slow buildup, stripping feels like an awkward chore, but it goes quickly.
My eyes have long since adjusted to the lower light, and Jesus, Mad Dog is at least as long and hard as Rebel.
Are they all hung like porn stars? On my knees, I reach for him too, taking one in each hand and marveling at the slick, silky softness under my fingers as I stroke, even if underneath they’re hard as steel.
“Come here.” Riptide kneels behind me, and pulls my back to his chest. His cock is a brand against my lower back.
Rebel slips out of my grip and follows us down. He pushes my legs up and apart as Riptide’s hands cup my breasts and my head falls back onto Rebel’s shoulder.
Rebel kisses his way up the insides of my thighs, zeroing quickly in on my slick core. He spreads me open with one hand, and his tongue slides straight through my folds and over my swollen clit.
My deep moan is louder than I intended.
“Trying to call for reinforcements?” Riptide asks with a quiet chuckle.
Like I need a reminder that all it takes is for someone to walk by and glance down in order to see exactly what we’re doing. I look up at Mad Dog, hardly believing what I’m about to say. “Maybe it’s better that someone keeps my mouth busy, then.”
“I aim to please.” Mad Dog moves to my side.
He grins and grips himself at the base, guiding the glistening tip of his cock closer to my mouth. I wet my lips, eager to taste the salt of him on my tongue and hear the noises he makes as I suck.
I open for him, closing my eyes as the soft skin of the tip pushes down my tongue.
He fills my mouth completely, so thick I can barely fit him.
The scent and flavor of sex tickles my taste buds and slides down my throat.
Forming a seal with my lips, I draw more of him in, as much as I can handle, which seems like hardly any at all, by how much of him is still outside.
Rebel picks that moment to put suction on my clit and slide a finger inside. I moan again, but this time the rough, throaty noises are muffled around Mad Dog’s thick cock.
I thought I was overwhelmed before, but this is a whole new level. Rebel’s tongue is magic. His fingers dig into my thighs as he holds me open, and all I want to do is squeeze my thighs tight around his head and ride his face until I come.
And he’s not the only one driving me crazy.
Riptide plays with my breasts and nibbles at the skin right behind my ear as he captures my nipples between his fingers.
It’s nearly impossible to give Mad Dog’s cock the attention it deserves, but he doesn’t seem to mind, happy to guide my head and thrust shallowly between my lips.
Nothing has ever felt like this. One man just doesn’t have the number of hands, lips, or cocks to drive me wild like the three of them do. My heart thunders against my ribcage, trying to break free, and I’m breathing in ragged pants around the thickness in my mouth.
Every touch, lick, and stroke drives me closer and closer to the edge. Goosebumps go in waves over my arms and legs, delicious tingles that all seem like they’re directly connected to my needy pussy.
If it didn’t feel so good, I might think I was dying.
“Hold her open for me,” Rebel asks, voice rougher than I’ve ever heard it.
Riptide does, hooking his hands behind my thighs and spreading my legs for his friend, even as his own steel bar of a cock is pushing into my back. It’s hot how comfortable they are sharing me, working together like well-oiled clockwork.
Though by this time, I’m the one who’s well-oiled.
If my mouth wasn’t full, I’d be begging for whatever they want, damn the consequences.
Instead, I keen around Mad Dog’s cock as Rebel works my clit and thrusts two fingers deep.
When he curls them inside me, the orgasm that’s been teetering on the edge crashes down, sweeping through my veins and making me writhe between them.
Mad Dog pulls away, drawing a rough, trembling breath through his nose like he’s concentrating really hard on not losing it. He strokes himself as he watches me fall apart.
I grab his thigh with my right hand, digging my fingernails in in desperation.
The other I’ve got buried in Rebel’s hair, pulling him against me like I’m afraid he’ll move even a fraction of an inch away from where I need him.
His tongue feels so freaking good, keeping the delicious, liquid heat of my orgasm roiling inside me.
Riptide eases me off his lap and materializes a condom packet in the same sort of way Rebel just happened to have a deadly knife to cut up an apple.
My brain works well enough, if barely, to know that those are the sorts of things I should probably worry about, but I can’t bring myself to care right now, not while he’s stroking himself slowly and looking at me like he wants to eat me whole.
“Yes?” he asks. At some point his hair fell loose, and it’s hanging around his shoulders in shadowy waves. He looks like an inked-up god, looming over me with his cock in hand.
“Please,” I say, my voice embarrassingly needy. For tonight, at least, I’m going to ride this chance until the wheels fall off.
He sheathes himself with practiced ease and settles between my thighs. When he nudges the tip of his cock in between my folds, pausing right at my entrance, his blue eyes lock with mine, and gently, inch by inch, my body stretches open.
I arch my back at the glorious sensation of being filled. It’s been a while, and he’s bigger than I’m used to, but I’m so ready that there’s nothing but a token amount of resistance. The groan that escapes me when his hips press against mine and I’ve taken all of him is inhuman.
“Fuuuuuck,” I moan as my eyes flutter closed.
“You okay, honey?” Rebel asks.
“God, yes.” My head turns his way, and he cups my cheek, his thumb brushing over my lips.
I open my mouth, and he slips it in for me to suck on. They chuckle, sounding incredibly pleased with themselves. I don’t even blame them.
Riptide pulls out and thrusts back in a little faster than the first time. It’s enough to drive the air out of my lungs and make me gasp. My grip on Mad Dog’s thigh tightens. I look up to find him watching with naked lust as he strokes himself faster.
Now that he knows I can take him, Riptide sheds his gentle approach and his hips snap to mine like a jackhammer.
It feels amazing. Over and over, he fills me, stretching me.
He shifts our position, rising a bit and wrapping his big hands around my waist. My legs go around his back, and the next time he bottoms out, his cock pushes deep enough to make me cry out at the new feeling.
“Fuck, it’s like you’re built to be on my cock,” he growls, voice strained.
He sounds close. Really close. I feel a new tendril of pleasure coiling inside me. That’s new. I’ve always enjoyed sex, even after coming, but I thought I was a one-and-done girl. Turns out I just needed the right guy. Or guys.
We’re making a lot of noise. I know that, but right now I don’t care. It even adds a little excitement to know other people might be listening.
“Shit, I’m coming.” He pushes deep, only a thin layer of latex saving us from potential disaster. Why does that make it even hotter? Maybe I’m a risk junkie and I never knew it.
He holds me against him with his steel grip on my hips, instinct driving him to not let go until he’s completely drained. He shudders, eyes drifting shut as he fucks through his climax. His nipples look rock-hard, and his abs flex like he’s doing crunches.
Finally, he relaxes, easing me down and slumping over me with one hand next to my head, his hair a silky curtain around us. His eyes pop open, and he grins. “Fuck, you feel good.” He pulls out, and I immediately miss having him in me.
“Ready for round two?” Rebel asks, grinning.
“God yeah.” I laugh, breathless and halfway to my next orgasm.
Mad Dog moves closer. “Let’s put that mouth to use. How ‘bout—”
Whatever he was going to say is lost with the violent crack of a gunshot.