39
Duke
Autumn’s not the only one having a new experience tonight. I’ve never been involved in a threesome, much less whatever this is, but Autumn is going to be worth it. Any discomfort aside, I can’t deny that my cock stirred at the sight of the other guys making her come.
She’s gorgeous, and never more so than when she’s losing herself to pleasure. It’s gonna be amazing when I see her come apart on my cock.
Her skin is covered by a thin sheen of sweat, and a few strands of hair are matted to her cheeks after the way Adrian just worked her. I trail my fingers over her belly and hip, loving the way her body responds, tightening, then relaxing, waiting for more. When, unprompted, she spreads her legs wider for me, I swallow back a wave of something I can’t quite define.
It’s desire, sure, but it goes deeper.
Just like I’m about to do.
With a grip on her hip, I prompt her to roll over, and when she does, I’m presented with the prettiest heart-shaped ass, all mine now, perfectly ripe and ready. It narrows with a curve to her waist, and I wish I could take a picture or draw a quick sketch, because what I’m looking at right now would make a killer tattoo.
I lift her hips and notice her body stiffen. Maybe she feels too exposed, so I soothe my hand over her curves and lay kisses on the plump cheeks aimed in my direction.
When she visibly relaxes, I get into position, keeping hold of her ass with one hand while I steer my cock to her opening with my other. It’s this moment, when I’m about to enter a woman, that always gets me. I’m impatient, but at the same time, I don’t want to rush. I want to be in control, but I also want to lose myself completely.
She feels tiny in my grip, and I worry that I could break her, but as I push inside, the sounds she makes are definitely ones of pleasure, not pain.
“Oh my god,” she says on a sigh.
I don’t go fully in, but instead pull back, and push in again, working my way up to it, groaning over how fucking tight she is. Her pussy seems to resist me, but when I press on, it swallows me up like it doesn’t want to let go.
Just a few strokes in is enough for me to decide that this is the sweetest pussy I’ve ever had.
I reach around and find her clit as I start to build a steady rhythm, and she moans. “Oh yeah, oh yeah.”
God, this is a girl I could get serious about. It’s too bad she’s so much younger and at a completely different stage in her life. We could make each other feel good every night.
I shake my head, trying to clear the sex fog. Something stirs in my chest that I haven’t felt for a long time, but it’s just the side effect of great pussy. It’ll go away after I get off.
I could keep fucking her for a good, long time, but she’s gonna be sore. Pressing her clit, I pump into her faster and deeper. I need to make her come. She moans, and whimpers, and lets out a string of single syllables — “unh, unh, unh” — and then when she finally comes, she cries, “Oh my god, oh god, Duke,” and I wish she hadn’t said my name. I really, really wish she hadn’t.
She comes for a good, long time, and before she’s done, I follow her over the edge. I manage to keep her name off of my lips, but it echoes in my head as pleasure courses up my spine and through my limbs, filling me with the contradiction of need and satisfaction.
When I pull out of her, spent, I can’t resist lying beside her and curling her into my arms. She said my name; she knows it’s me, so there’s no point playing games.
I slip the blindfold off of her head and kiss her cheek, nuzzling my nose in her sweet-smelling hair and breathing her in.
This can’t be the last time with her. It can’t.
40
Autumn
The blindfold was pointless. I knew who each man was almost immediately. Their scent, their touch, the weight of their body — there were clear clues, and I wasn’t even trying to puzzle out their identities.
Maybe having my eyes covered helped me feel less self conscious, and you’d think not being able to look at their faces would have lessened the emotional impact of what we did, but that wasn’t the case. I feel connected to them, even though our physical connections are over.
Prior to tonight, nothing had seemed real with these men — it was all too hard to believe — but now it feels very real, and I want to burn each moment I’ve shared with them into my memory, because even though I have nothing to compare this to, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was a special experience, one I’m likely never to match.
And Duke holding me afterward. How can a man so big and rough-looking be so gentle and tender? I could have wept at the way he strummed the tips of his fingers over my arm, but I kept my tears inside.
I’m cold now that he’s gotten up, and I’m looking down at the floor to locate my clothes when Garrett comes to sit beside me. No one else is in the room at the moment; maybe they thought we might like time together.
“You probably knew I was first,” he says, putting his arm around me and taking my hand in his, but not looking at my face.