“You freed me,” he said to Rochelle, and he rewarded her with brisk finger-fucking, paired with intense eye contact. I used to love that, and it was just as good to watch. Rochelle squirmed and moaned like a professional finger-fuckee.
Smith and I passed back and forth his drink and watched as she came, her face all pink and scrunchy, until all at once her expression relaxed and she let out a contented moan.
Whispering, I said to Smith, “That was beautiful.”
He grabbed my na**d ass and pulled me to sit on his lap. “You're beautiful,” he said.
“Were you serious about wanting to see another man f**k me? Because Todd will be ready to go again in a minute. The sex shop threw some condoms in with my purchase, so we're good to go. Rochelle gave her blessing.” I traced my finger down the buttons of Smith's shirt. “She said you can't have him, though.” I giggled.
He rolled his eyes. “That hairy ass? When I can have your sweet strawberry pie? No thanks.”
The other two got up from the bed and grabbed some robes from the hooks on the wall.
Todd said, “Okay if we go out on the patio and have a look at the city?”
Smith grinned and waved to the door. “My home is yours tonight. Everything of mine is yours for this evening only, to use and abuse.” His eyes flicked to me briefly, those sapphires as devious as always, then back to the dark-haired man wearing his robe. “Everything.”
Todd and Rochelle walked out, and a moment later, I heard the pop of another champagne cork.
I squirmed around on Smith's lap, trying to get access to his dick, but he kept swatting my hands away.
“You having fun?” he asked.
“I always have fun when I'm with you. Are you going to join us on the bed?”
“Yes and no.” He wrinkled his nose. “You reek of baby powder. You should take a quick shower before the next part.”
“If I do, will you f**k me?”
“I'll do you one better. I'm going to have young Todd f**k you from behind, good and hard like you deserve, and once you're moaning and panting, I'm going to put a gag in your mouth.”
I pouted. “I didn't buy a gag.”
“I'll find something.” He pushed me off his lap. “Go. Shower.”
I wasn't in the shower long before Rochelle joined me. She did a better job washing my body than I ever had. She got into all the nooks and crannies, and I do mean all of them.
We came out of the bathroom flushed pink and nude. I'd recharged with a couple shots of something—vodka, by the look of it—and was feeling relaxed and playful.
We jumped on the bed with Todd, whose body had diverted blood flow to his enormous, engorged cock.
His purple pony was ready to go once more, so we… played. I licked and sucked all kinds of skin—his, hers, and possibly my own—and my conscious thoughts all disappeared, off to their happy place.
I did get concerned at one point, when Rochelle meandered over to Smith on her hands and knees and flopped her head in his lap. He stroked her long, red hair and said things I couldn't hear. She tried to pull down his pants, but he politely declined, saying, “There's only one redhead for me.”
He looked up and made eye contact with me just as Todd settled himself on top of me, his lower body between my legs. He had the condom on, and he nudged the head of his c**k between my legs. My pu**y had never felt so swollen and tight, but I was wet. Looking at Smith, watching, I had second thoughts. Was this what he wanted? Smith nodded to go ahead.
I spread my legs wider and let Todd in, one last time for old times' sake.
He filled me, and I gasped with shock. After all the buildup, after being rebuffed by Smith for so many days, and after all the damn typing work, my insides roared and mewed with pleasure. Cock. Hot, hard, wonderful cock. Skewering me.
He thrust as I rocked my h*ps to meet his pace. They say women are the life-givers, because we give birth, but first it comes from the cock. I arched my back and wrapped my legs around Todd's muscular back, trying to eat him with my body.
I'll devour you, I thought. I'll devour anyone who touches me, and I'll burn them up inside me.
Cool hands stroked my hair. Rochelle's hands. Lips were on mine.
I was quiet at first, the sounds building up like a song in my chest, and then the music came out of me, gushing from my throat, and I didn't care who heard.
My orgasm began to blossom inside me, like pointed flower buds, tickling and straining.
I opened my eyes, expecting to see Smith, but found only brown eyes above me. Todd. And he had that loving look he always got during sex. I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes, trying to sober up and to not see him inside my mind, but he was in there, inside me in more ways than one.
Someone suggested a position change, and I shoved Todd away clumsily, rolling onto my knees with my ass in the air. This was better, less intimate. Slim fingers slid in and out of my pu**y, not quite hitting the right places. I swallowed my complaints for a moment, until my flower buds threatened to wilt, and I turned my head and politely ordered Todd to f**k me.
“Huh?” he said.
“Todd. Fuck me like that time in Mexico.”
Bless his heart. He knew exactly what I meant, and a moment later, he was railing me hard from behind, and I was starting to come, gripping the bed sheets and panting, the arteries in my neck throbbing.
Someone was talking, but I couldn't tell who. I opened my eyes, trying to get my bearings, even though all I wanted to do was roll down that grassy meadow of bliss and feel my body clench with orgasm.
The three of us were still on the bed, and I was on my knees, facing the foot of the bed. Facing Smith. He was so close, he could reach out and touch me if he wanted.
I made eye contact with him, and tried to send him a message with my eyes. Is this what you want? To see another man f**king me like a wild animal? Does this make you happy? Are you satisfied that I'll do anything you ask?
Smith licked his lips and set his drink aside. He pulled off his shirt as he stood, and then stepped the short distance toward me, undoing his pants.
My heart was thumping with that I'm-in-trouble panicky feeling. What was happening?
He pulled down his shorts, and I understood.
The gag.
Between ragged breaths, I muttered, “If you wanted to gag me, you could just stick your necktie in my mouth.”
He gazed down at me, though it was hard to maintain eye contact with Todd pounding away, his hands slipping constantly on our sweat.
Smith said, “Is that what you want? A piece of fabric in your mouth?”
I dropped my jaw to open my mouth wide in answer.