I nodded, bouncing gently before him. Staring up at him, while his friend continued working me from behind. Brody leaned in and kissed me, sliding his tongue past my lips. He made out with me slowly. Tenderly…
“Do you still want him?”
I let out a little whimper, as Corey continued his tantalizingly slow push and pull. I pictured Mason’s gorgeous face, smirking back at me from the hot tub. All blue eyes and high cheekbones. Big, strong arms. A wide, yummy-looking chest…
“Yes,” I whispered into my lover’s mouth. “I want him.”
He nodded at Corey, and together they stopped. I was still confused when Brody lifted me from the bed and set me down on two shaky legs.
“Then go get him,” he said, pointing to the bedroom door.
Thirty-Three
LAUREN
Mason was sprawled out on the couch in a pair of loose-fitting shorts and a T-shirt, watching television. He had the remote in one hand. A empty bottle of beer dangled from the other, twirling between his fingers.
When he looked up and saw me standing in the doorway, the look on his face was priceless.
“Holy shit.”
I strutted his way, totally naked. Overly-emphasizing the swing of my hips as I crossed the room and climbed into his lap.
He knew enough not to say anything. I shushed him with a finger to his lips anyway. Speaking might break the spell, and I did not want the spell broken. I took the remote from his hand and turned off the television…
Then I dropped my face to his, and kissed him like I had in the hot tub.
Holy fuck, Lauren…
Mason dropped the empty bottle and slid his hands to my body. They were warm and smooth. Totally well manicured as they roamed ever upward, gliding over my breasts, his palms brushing the tips of my nipples and causing them to stiffen like pencil erasers.
Are we really doing this?
Yes. Yes we were. And since we were going to do it, we were going to enjoy it wholeheartedly. No guilt, no pressure, just pure unadulterated enjoyment.
Now where have you heard that before?
I drove all other thoughts away as I pulled his shirt over his head. I kissed my way down his luscious chest, lingering at his nipples. Tracing them in slow circles, before dragging my tongue down over every last ridge of his hard, flat stomach.
His body was amazing. So lithe and smooth and beautiful. I felt his hands slide over my ears, sifting their way through my hair as I dropped to the floor between his legs and yanked his shorts down.
HOLY SHIT.
His cock was long and smooth — just like he was. It almost didn’t look real. Almost a little too perfect as I grabbed it around the base, licked my lips, and guided it to my mouth.
When it slid all the way down my throat he groaned my name out loud
“Lauren…”
I gave his balls a gentle squeeze as my own little wordless response. Then I began blowing him, in all the sluttiest ways imaginable.
“Ohhh fuck.”
I was spitting all over his beautiful cock. Scratching his thighs with my fingernails. Licking my way up and down the length of his shaft, making eye contact the whole time. In short, I was pulling out all the stops. Trying to make it good for him.
In a way though, I was also overcompensating. What I was doing was so far from the norm, I realized I was running full-tilt in the opposite direction. That part was scary. Liberating. Totally wild, all at the same time. But it seemed the more I did, the more comfortable I became. The harder I went, the less I actually thought about it…
And the more I enjoyed it for what it was.