Hot 4 (Multiple Love)

"She's close," Holden, says with a huskiness to his voice that only appears when he's turned on.

"Make her come," Harris says, and his twin taps my clit hard, and I come like a river, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut, everyone watching. Oh God. I really have left my shame somewhere locked up tight in my suitcase these past few days. Holden slides his fingers from inside me, and I clasp my thighs together in case Karter is having any foolish ideas about following in his brother's footsteps. I definitely couldn't take any more.

"I don't know about you," Holden says, bringing his fingers to his mouth. "But I'm fucking starving. Let's eat, and we can move onto dessert."

16

This time, they cover my eyes before the door is closed and lift me off my feet, carrying me in darkness until we're back outside in the evening air. The rattan sunbed creaks as it takes my weight, and then hands grip my wrists and ankles, shackling them together.

My wet pussy is spread, the air cooling against my arousal as my dress is hitched up. I feel like an animal bound this way, imagining four sets of hooded eyes gazing down at me, imagining all the things they could do to me, and I'd have no way of stopping them.

My mind drifts in the darkness to a place where I'm calm. There are no worries here, no thoughts of not being good enough, no pressure to do better. Here, I am perfect. Here, I'm cared for and controlled.

This time, there is no preamble. A hot, rough tongue flicks at my swollen clit, and I buck my hips, totally unprepared for the rush of sensation that moves up my spine. The top of my dress is pushed down until my breasts are revealed. Fingers tweak my nipples, replaced by mouths that suckle hungrily. My mouth is kissed, then probed with fingers that encourage me to suck. Finally, the blunt head of a very hard, thick cock is drawn across my lips.

"Open up," a gravelly voice says. I know it's Holden, but I don't imagine him as he is, with ocean-blue eyes and dimples that flash when I say something to amuse him. I fantasize that he's staring down at me meanly, taking what he wants from my mouth, controlling my head with fingers that pull at my hair a little too hard.

The clever tongue between my legs moves to my opening, pushing deep inside me and rooting until it finds the place that makes me grunt. Oh God. It's too much. The sunbed creaks as someone straddles my body, their knees on either side of me. My breasts are pushed together, and a cock slides between them, its owner using my body to take pleasure, and maybe watching everything else that is being done to me.

The cock leaves my lips, but the hand doesn't release my hair. Instead, it twists my head until I'm facing away, and another cock pushes its way into my mouth. I gag as it meets the back of my throat, but then a better rhythm takes over.

Between my legs, a cock replaces the tongue, pushing in slowly, hands pressing my thighs even wider. Fingers slide down either side of my clit and begin moving back and forth. I moan around the cock that leaks salty-sweet arousal over my tongue, and my head is turned again.

My nipples are pinched as the thrusting between my breasts speeds.

"Fuck," someone says, and then my neck is coated with warm cum, a necklace of pleasure, better than any jewelry I've ever been gifted. My mouth is filled once, then twice, and I drink it up, knowing that this is the last time I'll taste these men who've fulfilled all my fantasies and given me new ones that will keep me awake at night long into the future.

And between my legs, the final man swells, rooting deeply inside me, filling me with warmth as I come and come and come.

Who knows who can see us wrapped up so deeply in our pleasure that nothing matters but this crazy thing between us?

Slowly, my bounds are loosened, my hips stretched, a cloth wiped across my lips, my chest, and between my legs. My dress is arranged back into place, and soft kisses are pressed to my mouth, which sighs with deep satisfaction. Only when I'm put back together is the blindfold lifted from my eyes.

I want to open them. I want to take in the men who were supposed to be just a means to an end, a way of scratching an itch, but I find that I can't. Tears burn behind my eyes because saying goodbye is going to be too hard.

I didn't keep my heart safe. I didn't keep this thing neatly in a box of physical pleasure. I let my emotions get involved, and now I'm going to pay the price.