What Happens in Vegas

Mason kissed me back, holding my face delicately in one perfect hand. When his tongue slipped into my mouth, I didn’t even flinch. I didn’t stop or slow down or even think about the other guys, watching the whole thing unfold somewhere over my shoulder.

Holy fuck.

Our mouths moved, our lips churned. It was a single kiss, but it went on forever. As if the both of us knew the magic was over the very moment we broke it.

When we finally did, it was almost tragic. Our faces drifted slowly away from each other, but our eyes remained locked.

“Say goodnight now Lauren,” I heard Brody chuckle. Corey had already opened the door to the house. The air streaming out from the inside was warm and inviting.

“Goodnight,” I managed to breathe, adding a smile. “And… thanks for tonight.”

Mason spun the cap off another bottle of beer and grinned. As he settled beneath the water again, he brought it to his lips and gave me a wink.

It was a wink of pure trouble.

Thirty-Two

LAUREN

I fucked them loudly, shamelessly. Screwing my body back and forth between them, without any regard for anything other than to get the three of us off.

The bedroom we’d picked was the master. I was face-down on the strange new sheets, with Corey riding my ass into the bed. His cock was buried so deep in my pussy I wanted to scream.

“Please… more…”

He started his movements again. Plunging in and out of me, screwing me hard into the mattress while Brody held my face in both hands. He stood by the edge of the bed, feeding me his cock. Holding me steady while his friend continued to fuck me, back arched, head up… my hair pinned back into Corey’s tightly clenched fist.

Oh God it feels… it feels like…

I never imagined I would love having my hair pulled this much. In all the years of my marriage, through all the things we’d tried… I couldn’t believe we’d missed this one simple, stupid little thing.

My eyes rolled back, my mind slipping away to that special new happy place. It was a place I couldn’t find on my own. A place no girl could really, unless she was being double-teamed, spitroasted hotly from each end.

But no matter how hard I screwed back at them, they wouldn’t let me come.

“Please,” I begged again. “I… can’t…”

Every time I got close, they pulled away. Every time my euphoria crested like a rising wave, they backed instantly off. They knew exactly when to stop fucking me. When to switch places, or trade off, or have one of them go down on me while the other kissed me into oblivion.

I squirmed deep into the coolness of the silken sheets, as my lovers took turns dragging their tongue over every inch of my body. They were kissing me, tasting me. Worshiping me…

And oh my fucking God, I loved it.

But already they knew me too well. They knew what turned me on past the point of no return. Knew exactly what depth, what angles of penetration, would cause me to explode uncontrollably into a shaking, quivering mess.

And they kept those things from me.

I tried hiding my excitement, to lure them into finishing me off. I tried stifling my cries and whimpers, to conceal my rising arousal. But they knew anyway. They fucked me and used me and made me do anything and everything to them… yet every time I came close to an orgasm, they knew exactly when to pull the plug.

It got frustrating. I got angry. I started grabbing at them, clawing them into me. I tried making them make me come. In the end the whole thing only turned me on even more. Made me even more desperate for my own release, to the point where I was reaching down with my own fingers…

But they only laughed and pushed my hands away.

It was torture. It was ecstasy. It was the pinnacle of exasperation, walking the razor thin edge between screaming in resentment or exploding with happiness.

“Make me come,” I gasped, finally letting everything go. “Please… Please make me—”

“But we told you already,” said Corey. “The second date is for us, not you.”