14 | Hot Tub #3
He did it again. Slow, thorough, the thick length of him gliding through from entrance to clit and back.
Every pass left me more open, more desperate.
The head caught against me on the downstroke and stayed there for a second longer, pressing just enough that I felt the stretch start before he pulled away again.
Leo made a low, appreciative sound. “She wants it.”
Wesley’s mouth brushed the side of my neck, soft and open. “You’re doing so good,” he whispered. “Just relax.”
Kadir kept the same unhurried rhythm. He notched himself at my entrance again and held there, the broad head pressing, stretching me the smallest amount.
My thighs trembled in his grip. I could feel every ridge, every pulse of him.
The urge to tip my hips and take him was so strong it made my stomach tighten.
“Kadir—”
“I know.” His voice stayed calm, soothing. He pulled back, slower this time, making sure I felt every inch of the denial. “You want it.”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me.”
Leo leaned closer, eyes bright with heat and amusement. “Come on, tell him what you need.”
Wesley’s hands slid up my sides, warm and steady, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts. “We’ve got you,” he said softly. “Whenever you’re ready. ”
Kadir rubbed the head of his cock over my clit in tight, deliberate circles, then slid back down to press against my entrance once more. The pressure was constant now. My breath came in short, uneven pulls. I could feel how ready I was, how every near-penetration made my body clench around nothing.
“Please,” I managed.
He shook his head once, still watching my face. “You can do better than that.”
He gave me another long, torturous stroke, the thick length of him parting me, the head catching and pressing until my mouth fell open. The stretch hovered so close I could almost feel him starting to sink in.
My voice broke. “Please fuck me.”
Leo exhaled a short, rough laugh. “Yes.”
Kadir’s hands flexed on my thighs. He lined himself up properly this time and began to push.
The first inch stretched me open with a slow, burning pressure that made my head tip back against Wesley’s shoulder.
I felt every ridge of him, the heat, the impossible thickness.
My body resisted and then gave, taking him deeper by degrees.
Wesley’s arms tightened around me. “Breathe.”
Leo’s fingers brushed my jaw, turning my face so I had to look at him while Kadir sank in another inch. “You might be our favorite band manager,” he said, voice low and filthy.
Kadir’s gaze never left mine. He pushed deeper, controlled and relentless, until I was stretched full around him and shaking. The sensation was overwhelming. He bottomed out with a quiet exhale and held still, letting me feel every thick inch of him inside me.
“You really like this, don’t you?” he asked, voice still even. “Being shared.”
I couldn’t form words. I nodded, nails digging into Wesley’s forearm.
Kadir drew back slowly, the drag of him almost as intense as the stretch, then pushed in again with the same deliberate control.
The rhythm he set was unhurried and deep.
Every stroke pulled a sound out of me. Wesley kept whispering soft praise against my neck.
Leo watched with dark satisfaction, occasionally brushing his thumb across my lower lip or telling me how good I looked taking it.
The pleasure built in heavy waves. I was already so close from the teasing that every thrust pushed me higher. Kadir seemed to know exactly how much I could take; he kept the pace steady, deep, never rushed, his hands locked on my thighs to keep me open for him.
I was right on the edge, thighs trembling, breath coming in broken gasps, when the sharp, familiar ringtone cut through the steam.
My father’s ringtone.
I froze.
Kadir went still inside me. Wesley’s mouth paused against my neck. Leo’s eyebrows lifted.
The phone kept ringing from the chair where I had left my robe and towel.
I gasped, “Dad—”
Leo’s expression flickered between confusion and sudden, wicked amusement. “Oh shit. She’s got a daddy kink thing?”
Wesley made a choked sound that was half laugh, half disbelief. “I mean… we can work with that, but—”
“No.” My voice came out higher than I wanted. I was still stretched around Kadir, still shaking, the orgasm hovering right there. “No. My actual dad. He’s calling. I have to get it.”
The three of them stared at me for a split second of pure, horrified comprehension.
Kadir pulled out of me carefully, jaw tight. Wesley grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it around me from behind, covering me while I scrambled off the table on unsteady legs. Leo snatched my phone from the chair and held it out, still ringing, his face caught between concern and laughter.
I took the phone with a shaking hand, clutched the towel closed at my chest, and answered before I could think better of it.
“Hey, Dad.”
My voice sounded almost normal. Almost.
Behind me, three very quiet, partially naked men tried to remember how to breathe while my father started talking on the other end of the line.