“I can feel him inside you,” Hunter whispers as I look into his eyes. He grips my hand in his, intertwining our fingers. The other hand goes to my back and I feel his fingers graze Drake’s.
And we stay like that for a moment, the three of us as one.
“Rock your hips, Red.”
I look down into my husband’s eyes as I begin to rock, slowly at first, and then faster, and the sensation is incredible.
“Oh fuck,” Drake says with a moan.
“God, you feel so good,” Hunter replies, and I don’t know if he’s talking to me or his friend because, at the moment, I’m not sure where one of us ends and the others begin. We are melted together into a pile of heat and pleasure and carnal cries of lust.
I’m pistoning my hips now, throwing myself back, impaling myself on their cocks. This time, my orgasm comes on slowly, like an approaching storm, and it lasts longer than ever, until it becomes a part of me. I’m no longer fucking them but dancing with this orgasm, my body riding out the climax.
“Yes, yes, yes,” one of them howls, and I recognize the sensation of one cock throbbing and shuddering inside me. Or maybe it’s both.
I collapse onto Hunter’s chest, waiting for the tingling in my body to stop. Someone brushes my hair away again, and by the time he’s kissing my cheek, I realize Drake must have pulled out of me.
Sitting up, I stare down at Hunter, who gently strokes my cheek with a smile. Then I turn to see Drake lying next to him. “You are so fucking amazing, Isabel.”
I smile in return before falling into the narrow space between their bodies. I cuddle into this familiar position as Drake curls up to spoon me. With an exhausted and satisfied grin, I reply, “No. We’re fucking amazing.”
Rule #26: If your heart won’t get over them, let your dick do it for you.
Drake
When I wake up,I’m no longer on the outside of this little sandwich. Instead, I’m the little piece of meat squeezed between two pretty pieces of very naked and sexy bread. Isabel must have gotten up sometime in the middle of the night and crawled back in on the end, pushing me toward her husband.
Whether she did this out of convenience or because she thinks by pushing us together, it’s going to make Hunter get over all of his bisexual hang-ups or me get over my stubborn anti-relationship hang-ups, then she bit off a little more than she can chew.
I mean…I’m not mad about the warm, muscled body pressed up against my back. And I’m definitely not mad that I get her all to myself with the way she’s curled up in my arms like my own personal teddy bear, but I am a little annoyed by how much I don’t hate this.
I never sleep with the people I screw. But these two are different, and I’m starting to forget why. They’re different because they’re my friends…yeah, that’s it. They’re different because these are the two most important people in my life. My family. The only two people I love…wait, fuck.
Hunter stirs, and it’s obvious he doesn’t realize I’m the inside of this spoon when he stretches his naked body and drapes an arm over my waist. Once he feels my six-three frame, instead of Isabel’s petite five-foot-one, he tenses. Oh God, this is awkward. His…dick is against my ass. His morning wood hasn’t quite kicked in yet because he’s still soft, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.
Hunter and I might be toying with this weird new dynamic to our relationship, but we’re definitely not at the…rub your hard cock on my ass phase yet.
He lifts his head and looks at me through one half-open eye. I glance over my shoulder and since this is a double instead of a king, there’s not a lot of room for me to give him.
“Morning,” I mutter.
“Morning,” he grumbles. Then, as expected, he quickly rolls out of the bed. It makes me wonder if he was actually ready to wake up or if forcing himself out of bed was worth not having to be pressed up naked against me.
I do happen to catch a glimpse of him as he bolts to the bathroom, and I can’t be certain if that was morning wood or the effects of our sleeping arrangement that had him suddenly sporting a hard-on that wasn’t there a moment ago.
“What time is it?” Isabel mumbles, barely moving against my chest.
“Time doesn’t matter here. We’re in Vegas, baby.”
“Breakfast…” She moans.
I smile down at her, remembering just how much energy she exerted last night. I’ve never seen her like that before, wild and ravenous. I really did mean what I said before…Isabel is the best. I hate myself for the way I feel about her, my best friend’s wife, but she makes everything easy and fun. I never have a single complaint when I’m with her and the sex is always out of this world. I may not be a settling down kind of guy, but I swear if I had a chance to settle down with this one, I’d be a fucking idiot to pass that up.
Thirty minutes later, the three of us manage to drag our tired asses down to the breakfast buffet. We eat and laugh and talk and everything feels so normal…that it’s actually strange. Like we’re just us again, but not the same us we used to be because now…we fuck.
After breakfast, Isabel drags us through the city, seeing every hotel, every sight, every stupid tourist shop, and I can’t fucking help myself, but I’m happy.
She’s wearing a long plastic cup filled with green margarita strapped around her neck as we meander through The Venetian. I catch myself reaching for her, holding her hand, and she lets me nuzzle her under my arm. My eyes cast in Hunter’s direction, but when he catches us cuddling and her making me take a sip of her giant drink, he smiles. This part definitely wasn’t in his plan. He just wanted to watch us fuck…so when did it turn into this? When did we become part of a relationship? And how do I feel about this?