Porterhouse (Grade-A Beefcakes 4) - Page 14

“Tomorrow, Angel. You’re spending the day with us.”

“The night, too,” Cash added.

“I’d… I’d like that. God, that was so good. Thank you.”

“Baby, no thanks needed. You want to come, we’ll give it to you.”

We said goodnight and ended the call. Reaching over, I turned out the light on the bedside table, plunging the room into darkness. I couldn’t help but grin. I felt fucking fantastic. That was the most intense orgasm of my life, and I was all alone.

5

JULIA

* * *

I woke up energized and inspired. When I sat up, I saw the dildo on the blanket where I’d tossed it before falling instantly asleep after I ended the call with Bennett and Cash. I smiled at the thing, then covered my face with my hands.

God, what had I done? Naughty, filthy things and it had been… great! I wondered if the other ladies from the party had gotten a thrill out of using theirs. I hopped out of bed, did a little dance, stark naked. I did it! I had wild, crazy sex with two guys. Sure, they’d been in their own beds across town, but still. I hadn’t freaked, I hadn’t shut down. I had been far from cold. I’d been a sweaty, hot mess when I’d screamed my pleasure.

They’d said dirty things, not disappointing words. I hadn’t ruined their fun. In fact, I’d heard them come. I’d aroused them and even gotten them off, just from sex talk.

O.M.G. I could be a phone sex operator. Insane idea, but I felt insane. There was chemistry between us because I wouldn’t have said or done the things I did without it. Without deep down trusting them. And on a conference call no less. What else would one call what we’d shared? Ha, a three-way call. Bennett and Cash wanted to see me again. Be with me. Today. Soon. And I had a feeling we wouldn’t be having phone sex.

As I brushed my teeth, reality set in a little. Last night had been almost a dream, but the dildo on my bed proved it had been real. My pussy was a little sore, reminding me I had taken a big silicone dick hard and deep, and came all over it.

My inner walls clenched at the memory. In the mirror, I looked at myself. The tangle of wild red bedhead. My breasts with the coral colored nipples. Not too big, not too small. I stepped back so I could see more of me. I wasn’t heavy, but I wasn’t a stick either. Did the guys have phone sex because they didn’t want to see my body? Was it so repulsive the only way they’d play with me was from across town?

I shook my head, said a few curse words at Frank for making me always question myself.

But what did Cash and Bennett see in me? I wasn’t anything special. No model’s body or face. My track record with guys was poor and Frank only made my dating resume look horrible.

They wanted me.

I lifted my chin, remembered the kisses, the looks on their faces when they’d lifted their heads.

They wanted me.

They did. Today. I hopped in the shower, shaved my legs, my underarms, did some quick grooming down there. My usual edging work. As I stood under the hot spray, razor in hand, I wondered if they’d like me bare instead. I didn’t have a thick bush to possibly scare them off, but I needed all the help I could get. Shaving it all was out of the question. I’d done it once, and I had the worst ingrown hairs and itching as it grew back I swore I’d never, ever do that again.

I had the at-home wax kit under the sink I’d bought on a whim but never used. I could do it now, for them.

I’d had phone sex. I’d fucked a dildo like a cowgirl riding a wild mustang. I could go bare for two men.

I dried off, got out the kit, read the instructions. There were little sheets coated with a layer of wax which needed to be set it in place, a few swipes to get the wax warmed a little and adhered, then yank.

No big deal.

Putting a foot up on the side of the tub, I placed a strip on one side of my pussy. I’d leave a little patch at top because going completely bare might be going too far. I took a few fortifying breaths as I rubbed the strip in. With my left hand, I pulled my skin taut from above and with the right, gripped the end of the strip between my legs.

“One. Two. Three.”

Yank.

The pain was incredible. Scorching heat. Fire. I practically screamed with the evil wax strip between my fingers. I hopped around the bathroom, tears filling my eyes. I looked at the simple tool of torture, saw my red hair caught in the layer of wax.

I grabbed the hand mirror from the drawer of my vanity, put my foot back up on the side of the tub and inspected my work.

O.M.G.

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