Come on. Damn, I want her, and I’m aching, and I want…
Jet is still braced on me with one hand, and when he lets out a strangled moan, I glance down to see him stroking his dick.
Shit, I want to make him come along with Candy and myself. Feel it. Feel him come, see him.
“Ride me,” I tell her again, gripping her hip savagely and kissing her hard—as I grip Jet’s thigh, digging my nails into the thick muscle there until he hisses.
Bruising him. Marking him.
Like I’m marking her.
She cries out against my lips, tightening around my cock like a vise, contracting and rippling until I can’t breathe from the pressure.
Jet’s hand clamps down on my shoulder, and he gasps, coming hard, his load hitting my chest—and it’s starting.
I feel it deep inside me, the pressure breaking, the wave cresting, the heat rolling down my dick in a fucking massive tide. As Candy breaks the kiss to arch her back, still riding my jerking cock, I moan so loudly I think the whole city can probably hear me—and I don’t give a damn.
So fucking good. Dark spots swim in my eyes, and my body is out of control, my hips rocking up, pushing as much of my cock as possible inside her. The tension in my muscles is melting as I come down from the high. Jet’s grip on my shoulder relaxes, then his arm comes around my shoulders.
I realize my eyes have fallen shut, and I force them to open. Candy’s staring back at me, cheeks flushed.
I’ve fucked her while touching Jet, letting him come all over me, and now he’s draped over me while she’s still impaled on my dick.
Worse still, I don’t wanna move. My head is spinning, my body is still shuddering with pleasure, and my semi-hard dick feels way too good still rammed fucking deep inside her.
My hand feels good on his thigh, his forehead resting on my shoulder, sweaty. Warm. Feels like everything’s right, everything’s in place. A puzzle coming together as I let go and stop thinking.
I came. I came inside her, inside the sheath of a pussy and not my right hand. It’s been a while, and it rocked.
My body is still humming. My chest is so light it’s like it’s filled with helium, and my mind is filled with sparkles.
It’s that simple, then. Just giving in, just allowing myself to touch and do whatever feels good without second-guessing myself.
But God, I wish there wasn’t a voice in the back of my mind yelling that I’m a sick faggot bitch and that I should hang from my fucking balls in a public square for everyone to spit at.
Fuck.
***
“I should go,” Candy says after a moment, breaking through my thoughts. She squirms on my lap, which gets me fully hard all over again and makes her squeal.
“Easy now.” I groan as she slides up my cock, and I grab the full condom before it slips off. I tug it off, helping her off me with my other hand. “Wouldn’t wanna break this, would you?”
She glances down at my stiff dick, eyes wide, and shakes her head.
“But you might wanna lick it, or stroke it, or pet it like you would a fearsome snake,” Jet drawls, and when I turn my head, I find his gaze on my dick, too. It shouldn’t make me harder, but of course it does.
“I don’t pet snakes,” she says, her voice faint. “And I don’t sleep with two guys together, not in real life, no matter what I… Oh God.”
Huh. I cup her cheek. “Hey, girl. It’s okay. We won’t tell anyone, you know.”
If anything, she’s even paler now. She’s glancing from me to Jet like she’s just realized what we’ve done here and is about to freak out.
I wish I had a clue about what’s going on inside that pretty head of hers.
“Why don’t you stay?” I nod at the kitchen. “We can eat something together. I’ll whip up something quick.”
“With bananas in it,” Jet helpfully supplies, licking his lips.