In to Her

One finger pushes up inside me. Almost lazily. No urgency now. No desperation or lust.

It’s like… it’s like we know each other. Which is stupid. But that’s how it feels. Like a lover who is familiar with all the sweet spots on my body and knows just what to do to make me feel good.

Not make himself feel good.

Me.

Am I hallucinating? What is happening? Did I fall into some half-buzzed dream state where strange men who fucked me hard just a few minutes ago, with only their own desires in mind, are now attentive and thoughtful?

But as soon as that thought materializes in my head, AJ’s finger is pushing inside me too.

Two fingers. Two men.

Like last time with their cocks… only better.

Because it is better. There’s no way for me to pretend this is anything but good.

“Oh, my God,” I say.

Which was exactly what I said last time. But it means something totally different now.

“Like that?” Logan asks.

“Yes,” I say, when he and AJ begin to fuck me with their fingers. One pulling out while the other pushes in. A perfect rhythm.

They’ve done this before. No doubt. And the silly teenager inside me, who almost never makes an appearance these days, feels slightly jealous that I’m not their first.

What the hell is wrong with me?

No time to think more about that, because AJ lowers himself to one knee, spreading the lips of my pussy apart, and begins to lick me while still they fuck me with their fingers.

I look down, because I can’t not watch, and place my hands on AJ’s head, threading my fingers into his hair.

He looks up at me, tongue still swirling, and grins. His eyes bright and sparkling with mischief.

And I come.

All over their fingers.

AJ pulls his finger out, reaches up and smears my own heat and desire all over my lips.

I lick it hungrily as my body spasms and goes limp.

But the last thing I remember before the climax fully hits me is AJ sticking his finger in Logan’s mouth so he can taste me too.

Chapter Five – AJ

I want to fuck her again immediately. And when I look up into Logan’s eyes, I see he does too.

He smiles at me, sucking on my finger like it’s my cock.

He’s never sucked my cock before but I have a feeling about tonight. I have a feeling the three of us are about to do a whole lot of things we’ve never done.

This snowstorm might be the best thing that ever happened to Logan and me.

Hell, Yvette too, from the looks of it.

She goes completely limp and I take mental notes for later. She’s dirty, for sure. She’ll let us use her any way we want. But when we’re done we give her all the things she never gets. All the attention. All the orgasms. All the sweet, sweet sex she craves and wants so desperately.

Deal, I decide. And then I grin just as Logan stops supporting her body and she slumps to the floor in front of me, a pile of satisfied ecstasy.

I pick her up, place her on the table behind me, and say, “We need to get rid of these boots.”

She laughs, lazily. Says nothing. Just watches me as I untie the first one and then begin unlacing them.

“These fuckers are a huge commitment.”

I look over my shoulder at Logan and find him staring at us with a frown. “What?” I ask.

He shakes his head but says nothing. Just grabs at his dick, which is hard again, I can’t help but notice, and repositions it so it’s not so obvious.

“Don’t worry,” I say, still looking up at him. “We’ll do it again. Won’t we, Yvette?”

Her eyes are still half mast. Still drowsy. She was drinking earlier. It’s very apparent now.

“Logan, get us all a drink, will ya? It’s on the house.”

He just lets out a long breath of air, like he’s got something on his mind. Which, I assume, is the fact that we were supposed to kill this girl, dump her body over a ravine, and be back on our way.

And none of that is happening tonight.

We’re stuck here. There is no point in killing her when we can’t even leave. That’s just bad execution. No pun intended.

“Relax,” I say. “We’re still good.”

He nods, then walks off behind the bar and starts pouring another round of Jack, this time for everyone.

I finish unlacing the first boot and push Yvette back a little so she has to prop herself up with both hands flat on the table behind her. Then I tug off the boot, which, even unlaced, takes some effort. “Jesus,” I joke with her. “Who were you expecting today that you had to dress up in these flashy boots? And don’t get me started on that top. Your whole outfit is like a costume.”