Undying Devotion

Book 2: Devotion Series

by Persephone Autumn

Genres: Erotic & Steamy Romance; Polyamory Romance; Romantic Suspense; polyamory; steamy romance; sex club; swinger couple; LGBTQ Romance; mmff romance

Synopsis

Everyone believes we lead a normal life. In reality, they have no idea what we do behind closed doors.

The night she walks into my club, perches on a barstool sipping pink cocktails, Christy Nolan steals my every breath with her innocence. A siren singing a melody only my heart deciphers. With timid eyes and a curious nature, Christy is the first woman to bewitch my heart. The first woman I envision past one night. The first woman I long to keep.

Will Christy's demure disposition satiate my urges? Satisfy the beast inside me?

From the moment he offers his arm and escorts me around the club, his deep baritone whispering in my ears, Rick Mathewson owns my heart. With poise and confidence, he soothes my soul. Settles the ghosts of my past. Sparks me back to life. He introduces me to a new way of life. A new world. And with Rick by my side, I discover everything my life has been missing.

Or so I believe, until my best friend moves away and life tailspins.

A world of secrets.
An insatiable hunger.
An undying devotion claiming their souls.

Release date: April 28, 2020

Publisher: Between Words Publishing LLC

Print pages: 268

Sample

Prologue

Rick

 

Liquid sex bleeds from the speakers in the club. Every inch of Apex packed with slick, bare skin, ready to ring in the new year. This year’s turn out is much higher than previous years. Although Apex is invitation or members only, the club has never had a crowd of this magnitude in the five years I have worked here.

As I weave my way through the club, I check in with our regular clients. Since we invited several one-timers tonight, it is imperative our regular clientele enjoys the evening with the same level of comfort as usual. As I approach one of the large, circular couches, I stop and take in the three couples spread across the oxblood leather.

A middle-aged man stands at one end, his entire body exposed to the voyeurs, while a woman half his age rests on all fours atop the couch and sucks his cock like it is her last meal. At her backside, a younger man plows into her pussy while tugging on the chains attached to both her nipples like horse reins.

Off to the side, a third man lays lengthwise with his calves dangling off the curved edge. One woman straddles his hips and rides his cock while another does the same atop his face. The two women kiss, fondle, and occasionally suck the other’s breasts, all while being pleasured by him. 

Such a magnificent sight. Not quite enough to get me hard, but enough to knock me a notch above flaccid. 

After enjoying one last moment of watching them, I walk off and continue my route through the club and touch base with the staff working tonight. Apex has several rules laid in place for staff. One of those rules allows employees to join in on the festivities within the club, but only under strict guidelines. With tonight being one of our busiest nights of the year, the guidelines were reiterated before we opened the doors. 

All acts must be consensual for both parties. No ifs, ands, or buts. 

You are an employee of the club, on the clock, and expected to work. So, if at any time you are needed, you must step away. Period. 

Meeting clients outside our four walls is permitted, but caution must be exercised. They are paying clientele. If things go south with the arrangement outside the club, it is up to the employee to right the wrong. No exceptions.

To date, we have had zero issues with the policy.

“Hey Tink,” I holler over the music as I approach the bar. “Doing alright?”

“Yeah. But fuck if it’s not busy as shit tonight.”

Tink started at Apex in February. Although she has worked several major holiday events since she started, New Year’s Eve always draws the largest crowd. She may be bombarded with the never-ending drink orders, but she will be thanking the gods later.

“True. Just wait until you count your tips. You’ll beg for every night to be New Year’s Eve,” I tell her.

Tink throws me a half smile as she pours a line of shots. “You’re probably right.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

She shakes her head. “Nah, I’m good. Just keep ‘em buying, boss.”

I nod and settle on the barstool near the wall. At least once per shift, I park here and scan the club. Since the bar takes up a chunk of this corner, I have a great vantage point for most of the club. Everything in Apex is open. With no closed-off rooms. No displays to shadow people in corners. The dim lighting may provide a sense of security to several of the patrons, but I have worked here long enough to see everything around me like a predator in the night.

Just as I finish my visual circuit of the club, I stop when I spot a young brunette at the opposite end of the bar. Her face unfamiliar, but one I would remember without question.

I remain rooted on my stool and observe her a few minutes. Clad in a form-fitted red lace dress, her skin visible beneath the intricate pattern, I notice flesh-colored pasties on her nipples. Wonder what lies hidden beneath the bar, between her legs. Her wavy, russet hair frames her round face and black-rimmed glasses and falls inches beneath her shoulders. In a studious way, she is fucking adorable.

After a minute, I wave Tink over. “What’s her story?” I ask, jutting my chin toward the woman. The brunette has yet to talk to anyone near her and it fascinates me. She fascinates me.

Tink chuckles as if privy to top secret information. Or perhaps at my curiosity. “As far as I can tell, it’s her first time here. And she came alone. Tried sparking a conversation with her, but she didn’t seem keen on talking.”

I nod. “Thanks. She seems a bit out of her element. I’ll check on her in a minute.”

Tink walks off to pour another drink and mumbles, “I’m sure you will.”

Another minute or two passes, and no one approaches her. I abandon my stool and head toward the brunette who holds my interest captive. With each step forward, heat tugs at my cock. Something about this woman stirs at the animal inside me. An animal that begs to come out and play more often than I allow.

When I reach her, I lean in close, rest my hand on her forearm, and drag in the smell of her. A soft floral perfume tickles my nose while a jolt sparks beneath my hand on her skin. A power grid straight to my groin.

“Hey, gorgeous. I’m Rick, manager of Apex. Wanted to introduce myself as I haven’t seen you in here before.”

She peers down at my hand a second, then lifts her gaze to meet mine. A pair of steel blue tornados shielded by her glasses. Naughty teacher and dirty librarian fantasies zap through my mind, one after another. 

Fuck.

“Christy,” she says in a whimsical tone. “Tonight’s my first time.” After a beat, she adds, “Here. My first time here.” As if I thought otherwise.

“Welcome. You alone?”

Not that it was out of character, but most women didn’t come to Apex unescorted. Christy is safe here, but it wouldn’t be difficult to be whisked off by an undesirable. Every once in a while, they slip in unnoticed.

After a sip of her raspberry cosmopolitan, she nods. As I suspected.

“Finish your drink. Then I’ll show you around,” I tell her. Not necessarily a command, but a strong suggestion. Something tells me she isn’t opposed to such demands.

Christy locks eyes with me for one, two, three breaths. Her stormy eyes brimming with questions. The moment her gaze drops to my mouth and she swallows, I have my answer. But like a proper gentleman, I wait for verbal acceptance.

Without preamble, she throws back the remainder of her drink. “Ready when you are.”

Quite telling. Color me intrigued.

Stepping away from her stool, I offer her my elbow. She hooks her arm in mine and I weave us through the crowd. Inside Apex, there is no way to gradually introduce someone to the scene. Some couples are more vanilla than others, but there is no escape from the fact Apex is what it is. A sex club. An elite underground sex club. Not just anyone can get in here, so I wonder how she managed.

“Christy, who invited you to Apex?” Management, staff, and VIP clientele are the only individuals capable of inviting non-members.

“This is going to sound ridiculous,” she says with a giggle. Fuck me running. Her giggle stirs my cock from its slumber. “A woman I work with invited me. We hung out and went shopping,” she pauses and makes this adorable goofy face, “and I wanted to go into the lingerie store. She asked if I planned to wear it for someone, and I said no. That sometimes I liked to put on sexy lingerie, take photos of myself, and post them in a chat room. I never show my face, though.”

My expression stoic, I ask, “So you enjoy being watched?” If she says yes, I may just come in my pants.

“Yes and no.” Close enough. “I’ve only ever been ‘watched’ online through posted images. Never a live feed. And never in person. I’m a bit nervous being here.”

“Why the nerves? Everyone is here for similar reasons. And there are rules inside these walls. Strict rules.” She has no need for fear. Not here. No one does.

“Performance anxiety, I suppose? What if some weirdo pushes himself onto me and things happen I don’t want?”

“That will never happen here,” I state firmly.

Christy nods. “Glad to hear.” Her free hand goes to her hair and she twirls a lock around a finger. “I guess I’m just nervous to do something new.”

I stop us in front of a large, round leather ottoman. Four people perform together. A man on his back at the base fucks the woman above him in the pussy. On his knees behind the pair is a man claiming her ass. Standing before her is a third man, who continually pounds his cock down her throat. The four of them have a rhythm all their own. As a voyeur, it is comparable to watching sexual poetry in the flesh.

Out of the corner of my eye, I gaze at Christy to catch her reaction. Part of me is surprised and another not so much. 

Christy inches forward, eyes fixated on the act. Her tongue darts out and swipes her bottom lip before she swallows hard. Arm still hooked with mine, her muscles contract as she leans a little closer. Hungry for more. And I want to give her more. So much more.

We stand and watch the group another minute before I speak up. “Come with me.”

When she takes a breath, I realize how statuesque her body stood beside me while watching. After she snaps out of her haze, she nods and I walk us away from the foursome. Attached to my side like she belongs there, she inhales sharply halfway across the club floor. If I didn’t know any better, I would say she is working to regulate her breathing, undetected. But even through the buzz from her body to mine and the heavy bass of the music vibrating the floor, I pick up on every single detail. Call it a gift.

We reach the roped-off VIP area and step inside. Everything within VIP is visible to the entire club, but only select members have permission to walk past the red velvet ropes. And only a set number of invitations are given. Within VIP, it is less crowded and less invasive. More space to breathe while you enjoy the club. Although all patrons can see you, no one ogles. Call it exposed privacy.

I walk us to a vacant couch and sit us down. Beside me, Christy peers around. Not only is VIP somewhat secluded, it also bodes “accessories.” Toys. Implements. Various surfaces, furniture, and swings. Every molecule inside me screams to ask what she thinks of it all. But I hold my composure and wait for her to speak up.

And I don’t wait long. Less than a minute passes after we sit and she asks, “Why did you bring me in here?”

She doesn’t face me but instead stares at a woman who rides one man’s cock and sucks another’s. Christy appears more curious than taken aback. This delights me more than imaginable.

I trace her arm, bicep to fingertips, and she shifts her attention to me. “Because it’s less chaotic in VIP. From what I can tell, this scene is new to you. I’d rather you not be overwhelmed on your first visit.”

After a moment, she squares her shoulders and sits taller. “You speak as if I’ll return. What makes you so confident?”

“Everything about you begs for more. The way you lean in to absorb what you see. Your fevered skin and rapid breathing. How you clutch me closer when you’re turned on.”

“Hmm,” she mumbles. “Well, I’d have to be invited or become a member to return. And seeing as I’m not able to become a member—”

“You’re a member. Just a matter of semantics. But I’ll handle it before you leave.”

Her stormy blue eyes spin like a hurricane and I get lost at sea. Taking a risk, I continue tracing my fingers along her body. From her hand onto her knee, I inch my way up her bare thigh. Her lips part as her chest rises and falls in rapid succession. Has she never been touched like this?

I stop my trek to heaven and ask, “No offense, but are you a virgin?”

Eyes wide, she verbally slaps me. “What?! No! Why would you ask me that?”

“Wasn’t trying to upset you. But your reaction to my touch is indicative.”

Christy rolls her eyes. “Well, I’m not a virgin. Sorry to disappoint,” she huffs. “Maybe no one has ever let me feel things during sex.”

This confuses me for a second. Does she mean no one has touched her except for sticking their dick in her? Or that she has never experienced foreplay? Or, worst of all, has she never orgasmed from sex? 

“Care to elaborate?”

With another huff, she says, “Most of the people I’ve had sex with did what was best for them and didn’t reciprocate.”

I reach up with my free hand and tip her chin up, locking her gaze with mine. “That will never happen with me.”

She sucks in a breath. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I’m not a prick. Your pleasure is my pleasure.” An absolute truth. I lean my face closer to hers as my fingers slowly graze her thigh. With my lips an inch above hers, I whisper, “Can I kiss you?”

My fingers skim the edge of her lacy dress, just at the junction of her thighs. If I moved north another half an inch, I would graze her nude lace panties. Without a doubt, they would be drenched.

“Yes,” she whispers, eyes locked on mine.

I crash my lips to hers and she opens up for me—her lips and legs. In a heartbeat, I stroke her tongue with mine and slide my hand the rest of the way up her thigh. Both sets of lips hot and slick and eager for my touch.

Continuing to fuck her mouth with mine, I trace my fingers up and down her lace panties, coating my fingers with her juices. After the third swipe down, she rocks her hips forward in invitation. 

I groan against her lips before pushing her panties to the side. Before another second passes, the slick heat between her thighs coats my fingertips. My middle finger circles her clit once, twice, and then dips between her folds. Fuck. So hot and wet and eager for me. I slip my finger out and play with her clit a moment. 

Within minutes, her red lacy dress inches higher and higher up her body. Legs spread wide for me, she beckons and I slip off the couch, sit on my haunches on the floor between her thighs, and worship her pussy with my mouth. After she comes with my mouth on her, I tug the red lace off her body and lay her down. She rubs her hands up and down her body a second before she starts playing with her clit. 

As quickly as humanly possible, I strip my clothes and grab a condom from my pants. After I roll the condom on, I kneel down between her legs and slam inside her. She cries out beneath me as I rear back and slam forward again. Her breasts bounce and I glance down to see the pasties still in place. I rip them both away and she cries out again, her cunt wetter.

I lift one of her legs to rest it on my shoulder as I lean forward, plow into her, and suck her nipples. Her hands fist my hair and yank me down to her lips. The way we kiss and fuck is vicious and insane and I never want it to end.

Her breathing shifts into high-pitched cries as her walls clamp down and milk my cock. Un-fucking-believable. I have always been in control during sex, but Christy rips the control away and I come before I can stop myself.

I collapse on top of her and she wraps all four limbs around me. Previous partners are no comparison to the woman below me. There is a purity about her—a virginity to this life—that magnetizes her to me. It is undeniable, and I ache for more. Of her and what we could be together.

“So,” I heave. “When can I see you again?”

 

 

PART ONE

 

 One

Christy 

June—Four years later

 

“I understand why you’re moving, but does it have to be across the freaking country, bitch?” I whine to my best friend, Sarah.

Less than two months ago, one of our coworkers—who shall remain nameless—attacked and molested Sarah. For months, he had sent her anonymous gifts and notes. And we will truly never know how long he had been stalking her. Maybe since the day she started at Hammond Life. A shiver rolls down my spine at the notion.

Rick and I have been exposed to a lot of people in our lifestyle. Most of them respectful and respectable. If someone ever did to us what happened to Sarah, I’m not sure I would have it in me to be so vulnerable with others again.

“It sucks to move so far away,” Sarah says as she hugs me. “But I need to get as much distance between me and Georgia as possible. I can’t breathe here anymore.”

I nod. I get where she is coming from. If I were in her shoes, Rick and I would have left as soon as possible too. But over two thousand miles away… not so sure about that.

“Bitch, I feel like I’ll never see you again.” God, why the hell am I such an emotional baby today? Maybe it is my godforsaken hormones.

“Are you kidding me? Of course we’ll see each other again. You’re my best friend. That doesn’t end because I’m moving.”

Point made. But I can’t seem to help myself. With Sarah and Jackson—her boyfriend—moving away, it feels as if I’m losing a chunk of my family. My family is small enough as is, I can’t lose any more of it.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I say. “Rick and I will have to plan a trip out to see you guys after you’re settled.” I peer over at Rick, who is helping Jackson haul larger pieces of furniture from the house to a moving truck outside. He pops a half-smile and winks at me.

Damn, I love him.

“Plus, we’ll talk on the phone all the time. No chance in hell you’re escaping me.” Sarah laughs and I join in. I was so lucky to have a friend like Sarah. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to share all aspects of my life with her. In context, not physically. That ship sailed a while ago.

We finish packing the contents of her kitchen cabinets, then move on to the spare bedroom. It serves as an office and guest room. There isn’t much in the room to pack other than the desk contents and two overflowing bookshelves worth of books. 

The rest of the packing goes by quick and their house is an empty shell before nightfall. Sarah and Jackson plan on staying with Liz and Tiffany tonight, after their going-away party, and driving out in the morning. As gracious as Liz was to offer hosting the party, I suggested it be at my and Rick’s place. That way, if Sarah and Jackson were ready to call it a night, the party wouldn’t keep them up. Liz agreed without hesitation.

Liz—my other best friend—recently started dating Tiffany. Tiffany is super sweet and clicks with all of us, like we have known her years instead of months. Before Sarah met Jackson, I suspected Sarah and Liz had a fling going because I caught them making out. More than once. But the topic was never broached by any of us. Oftentimes, I contemplated bringing up Rick and my lifestyle with them, just to have it out in the open, but there was never a time that felt right. So, I kept it bottled up.

The guys join us in the vacant living room and Rick traces his fingers down my spine before gripping my hip and drawing me into his side. Every time he touches me, a new star burns in the night sky.

“Let’s all grab dinner, then head to the party,” Rick says.

I press the side button on my cell and check the time. Three hours until the festivities begin. It won’t be as lux as Liz’s parties, but it will be a good time. “Sounds good.” Glancing between Sarah and Jackson, I toss out, “It’s your last night here. Where do you want to go?”

They stare at each other a minute, smile, then say, “Barbecue.” In sync, like Liz and I did to mess with Sarah months ago. Memories…

“Barbecue it is,” I say, laughing.

 

***

 

“Besides you guys, I am really going to miss the food here,” Sarah says from the passenger seat. The guys behind us—Rick driving the moving truck with Jackson’s car in tow, and Jackson driving Sarah’s car. Which is an interesting sight—a six-foot one, muscular man behind the wheel of a Beetle. Definitely worth a laugh.

“Well at least I get priority over the food,” I say, giggling. “You’re my best bitch. You know that, right?”

Sarah nods, her eyes welling. “Yeah.”

A few minutes later, we park outside our place. We have about an hour before everyone arrives, but I know Liz will be here any minute. Her inner party planner wouldn’t have it any other way.

We shuffle inside and start setting up the snacks and drinks. I barely have the cups on the kitchen island before Liz and Tiffany arrive. So freaking predictable. Liz goes to Sarah first, picks her up off the ground, and squeezes the life out of her. Swear to god Liz holds her for an eternity. Did she forget the rest of us were in the room? Her girlfriend included.

I throw my arms wide open and clear my throat. “Am I invisible, bitch?”

Liz and Sarah laugh hysterically before Liz sets Sarah down, they run at me, and tackle me to the ground. “You know we love you,” Liz says. “Sarah just gets extra hugs tonight. Don’t be jealous.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I tease. 

When I glance over at Rick, a smolder darkens his liquid honey eyes. In an instant, my thighs dampen and lungs heave. An invisible, impulsive chemistry has always existed between us. A bond so powerful, words do it no justice. I reach up and run my fingers over the thin, silver collar around my neck. To an onlooker, the shiny silver is just a unique necklace. Solid with a hinge on one side and a lock on the other. Snug, but not a choker. A small loop on the front most would think is for pendants. But is far from it.

Rick’s eyes drop to my throat—my collar—and a wicked gleam shines on his face. The kind that soaks my panties. He clasps his right thumb with his left fingers and toys with the thick, black band. My lips part centimeters and I breathe a little heavier. Simple gestures between us sometimes spark the hottest flames.

Two-and-a-half years ago, just before Rick and I moved in together, he gifted me the collar. In return, I gave him the ring. An effortless exchange, but it meant so much more to us. We were nowhere near ready for marriage—if I’m honest, we still aren’t—but the two tokens were representative of our bond to each other. An unbreakable bond.

“Did you hear me?” Liz asks.

I shake my head. “Sorry. What?”

“There’s someone at the door. Want me to get it?”

“Sure. We should just put a sign up that says come on in,” I joke.

An hour later, our apartment overflows with bodies and the party is in full swing. I haven’t seen Rick in a while, but I sense him nearby. His proximity always pops up on my radar. Even the night we met. Rick’s soul was a beacon calling out to me.

The music changes—Liz, of course, in charge of music—and my body vibrates to the beat. Before I scan the room, a familiar pair of arms wrap around my waist as his body presses flush against my back. “Hey, gorgeous.”

“Mmm, hey.” Rick skims his hands up and down my torso, openly fondling me. “Where’ve you been?” I groan.

“Did you miss me?” he asks before licking the shell of my ear.

“Always,” I murmur, grinding my ass against his groin.

“Patience, gorgeous. When the party ends, the real fun begins.”

I spin around and stare at him a moment. “Really? Who?” I whisper-ask as if someone will hear our conversation over the music.

Rick hauls my body back to his, slips a leg between mine, and grinds against me to the music. I lace my fingers behind his neck and dance with him. He won’t answer me immediately, this much I know. Dragging out the anticipation is part of the pleasure.

When the song ends, he kisses me. He sucks my bottom lip before nipping it and kissing his way to my ear. “Tim and Jill are here,” he says.

I moan loud enough for Rick to hear, but no one else over the music. We have only been with Tim and Jill one other time, but it was phenomenal. And suddenly, as eager as I am to spend time with my friends, I want the party to end. Rick senses my mood shift and chuckles.

As if I voiced my desires aloud, several people start leaving. Twenty minutes later, Sarah and Jackson approach me and Rick and say their goodbyes. A lengthy process, but hugs and promises to stay in touch are exchanged. When Sarah, Jackson, Liz, and Tiffany walk out the door, the only people left in the room with us are Tim and Jill.

 

***

 

A scorching fire brushes over my lips as Rick kisses me with unrestrained fervor, his fingers slowly peeling my clothes away. Behind me, Jill and Tim grope one another in similar fashion. Both men still fully dressed. Standing exposed before him, I sigh as Rick strokes his fingertip side to side just above the junction of my thighs with his eyes locked on mine. A dark amber mixes with his honey eyes the more he brushes against my skin. Pausing for a micro blip of time, he draws a line with his finger up my midline, starting at my shaved mound and stopping at my collar. When he reaches the cool metal, he hooks a finger under the silver and tugs me to him.

“Remember who you belong to, gorgeous.”

“Always,” I tell him.

“Remember who I belong to.”

“Yes,” I breathe.

He releases me and I spin around to face Jill. Face to face, we are all hands and fingers. Touching and teasing and kissing. A woman’s skin is much softer and delicate, and the smooth flesh under my fingertips drives me to explore her terrain. Meanwhile, her fingers drift down, down, down and tease my pussy folds as I pinch her nipples. 

Jill has bite-size breasts. Maybe somewhere between an A cup and a B. Not too much, but enough to play with. Unlike my full Cs, which annoy me at times, Jill has the luxury of going braless as often as she pleases.

Her lips break away from the skin above my collarbone and she leans forward to whisper in my ear. “Enjoy fucking my husband again.” And then she dips her finger once, twice inside me before walking over to Rick with the taste of me on her tongue.

Tim steps up to me, his t-shirt and khaki shorts securely in place. He traces a line along my jaw with a finger before tipping my chin up and kissing down the curve of my throat. His lips on my sensitive skin amplifying the fire Jill ignited between my legs.

Rick and I have strict rules when with other people. In this life, our rules set boundaries and keep the lines from blurring. The rules are black and white, but there is always space for gray. 

First and foremost, no kissing on the mouth. Ever. The act an intimacy only we share. Second, no talking during the act other than guidance, praise, or permission. The reason behind our lifestyle isn’t to form intimate connections with other people. It is lust and hunger and a desire to fuck. Plain and simple. Intimacy is saved for when we are alone. Third, if someone does something we don’t enjoy, it stops immediately. No ifs, ands, or buts. And last but certainly not least, Rick and I always remain in the same room during every act. Not that we distrust one another, but more so we can enjoy ourselves and protect one another. Baring yourself completely to another person puts you in a vulnerable position. Safety is vital.

After everything that happened with Sarah and her stalker over the last six months, Rick and I tightened our rules and enforced them with everyone who we allowed to step foot into our sex play. If couples were uncomfortable or unable to abide by our rules, we bid them farewell. Nowadays, there is no such thing as being overprotective. Honestly, you never know who is batshit crazy anymore.

Tim kisses along my collarbone as his fingertips dance down my arms, leaving a buzz in their wake, and land on my hips. I reach forward and pop the button open on his shorts, slowly pushing down the zipper. After the slider trails down the teeth to the stopper, his shorts slip down his thick glutes and thump on the hardwood. Beneath, Tim flashes his commando status with pride, and, for a second, part of me wonders if Rick set up tonight with Tim and Jill before the party. Tim seems awfully prepared. And I can’t recall if he was bare last time. Not that it matters.

I wrap my hand around his cock and glide up once, twice, before I fondle his balls in my grip and drop to my knees. Behind me, Jill sucks Rick’s cock like a gold medalist. Rick fists her hair tight and pumps into her with unmatched vigor.

Tim strips his shirt and tosses it to the side as I suck one of his balls into my mouth and play with it while I stroke him. I pop it out of my mouth and lick the underside of his cock, root to tip, before taking it all in my mouth. The head of his cock hits the back of my throat and I relax my muscles as I bob my head up and down.

Jill’s ass brushes against mine, neither of us stops sucking the other man’s dick, and I reach between my legs and feel for her pussy. The moment I touch her wet lips, she moans. So fucking wet. I slip a finger inside her and she rides me a beat while she face fucks Rick.

In no time, Jill comes on my finger. Her juices coat and run down my finger and onto my hand. Once she drifts back to earth, we stop sucking the guys and climb on the bed. With Jill on her back, head at the edge of the bed, I mount her, press my core against her lips, then lick the length of her slit and suck her taut clit. Breaking my mouth away, I dip two fingers in her cunt as Rick steps up and grabs my hair.

“Suck me, gorgeous,” he purrs.

With Rick on my tongue, my fingers inside Jill, and Jill’s mouth on my clit, my body goes into stimulus overload. Or so I thought. That is until Tim clutches both my ass cheeks and spreads them wide. What happens next? My silent question answered when Tim licks from my clit to the clenched opening between my ass cheeks and circles the tight hole over and over. 

My eyes roll back in my head and I forget how to breathe for a split second. White heat lights up every atom in my body. Too much and not enough, all at the same time. Not sure when or how it happened, but somehow I became the center of attention in our foursome. For some reason, everyone wants to contribute to my pleasure. And I won’t complain while it happens.

“Such a tight little hole,” Tim says behind me as he continues to swirl his tongue over the puckered flesh between my cheeks. “Can I fuck you here?” He lifts his mouth, presses a finger to the center, and pushes in slightly. I gasp around Rick’s cock and push back into the pressure.

“Yes,” I moan.

Rick tips my chin up before I take his cock again, his eyes intently studying mine to be certain this is what I want. The seconds that pass feel timeless. I nod and so does he. Part of our unspoken language. Not just in the bedroom. It came natural to us and formed the night we met, growing stronger with time. Rick knows my boundaries—just as I know his—and when to check in.

Tim coats my rim with my arousal before he dips his cock in my pussy once, twice. Fuck, he is big. “Just relax your muscles,” Tim says as he grips my hips firmly. A second later, he is there. Cock pressing forward as the hole contracts against the pressure. Jill swipes my clit in small, slow circles, running her finger over my folds every other revolution. In front of me, Rick cups my face in his palm as he strokes my cheek. Rick is what soothes me enough to grant Tim access. No one settles or spikes my heartbeat like Rick.

Once Tim pushes forward, I gasp at the rush of sensation coursing throughout my body. Lust and pain and immense pleasure. A slight burning around the edges until a dollop of moisture coats his skin. He slides out slowly to the crown, then glides back in. Rick’s eyes locked with mine, I see an insatiable hunger ignite them. I suck up and down his length for three strokes, peek up at him, and silently tell him to fuck Jill.

A curt nod and Rick retrieves Jill out from under me. He flips her on her stomach and yanks her ass into the air. I refuse to look away as he strokes himself before rolling a condom on and teasing Jill’s pussy with the head of his cock. A second later, he thrusts forward and she screams. 

Tim bends over me, wraps one arm around my hips and the other at my breasts. He plunges into my ass over and over as he swipes his fingers over my clit. “So fucking wet,” he groans. I whimper as he circles my clit again and again, then inserts two fingers inside me. 

Jill cries out, her orgasm hitting her quick. But I know Rick isn’t done. He can go forever before release. He dips between her thighs and laps at her juices, building her up again with his fingers and tongue. Before I’ve reached my first orgasm with Tim, Rick has given Jill two and a sense of deprivation washes over me.

Sensing my temperament, Rick abandons Jill for a moment and finagles himself beneath me. Tim stops for a beat, realizing what’s happening, and gives Rick a moment. Once situated beneath me, Rick tears off the condom and slips inside my cunt. 

A slow rhythm starts. Rick in, Tim out. Tim in, Rick out. Like a seesaw, back and forth. I relax my weight on Rick and he wraps his arms around me before he grabs my ass cheeks and spreads them farther apart.

Rick and Tim work my body like a well-oiled machine as every molecule in my body climbs higher, higher, higher. The hunger and fire raging inside me is intense and addictive and intoxicating. I groan into Rick’s neck before I bite his shoulder.

“Feel it all, gorgeous,” he whispers in my ear. “Do you know how unbelievably stunning you are right now? Letting someone fuck that tight little ass of yours, and me fucking this pussy. My pussy.”

I groan louder. When Rick talks dirty, it dumps gasoline on the bonfire low in my belly.

“You know what would make this hotter, gorgeous? Fucking you while watching this over and over again.”

“Yes,” I cry out.

Jill, who sits near the pillows finger fucking herself while watching the three of us, gets up and grabs Rick’s phone. He unlocks it and opens the camera for her. “If you’re okay with it,” Rick says to Jill and Tim. “We can set it on the dresser and record. Unless you don’t want your face in it.”

“Don’t care,” Tim grunts out. He is so close—the thickening of his cock tells me so—but holds out for my orgasm.

Jill gets the phone set up on the dresser after hitting record and returns to the bed. As Rick and Tim continue to fuck me, she straddles Rick’s face and I suck her breasts. Jill rides Rick’s face like she’s at a rodeo and soon the pitch of her cries changes. She’s close again. Rick slips his hand between us and plays with my clit.

Balls slap my skin, cocks piston in and out, Rick circles faster and harder with his fingers. It builds so quick, and I clamp down hard on Jill’s nipple. She orgasms on Rick’s face as I explode around Rick and he comes inside me. Before a scream escapes my lips, Tim detonates. Both men pulsing inside my body as I visibly vibrate from my orgasm.

“Holy shit,” I gasp. “Fucking intense.” My voice garbled and skin tingling.

Jill dismounts from Rick’s face and I kiss him, tasting her salty tang on his tongue. Slowly, Tim pulls out of me, but Rick and I don’t separate. He remains inside me and semi-hard as we kiss the hell out of each other. Right now, I hope Jill and Tim get dressed and leave. 

A zipper grates beside us. Feet shuffle on the wood. Rick and I remain connected in every possible way. A moment later, the front door clicks and it is just the two of us. 

I sit up, plant my hands on his pecs, and start rocking my hips over him. “Tim not do it for you, gorgeous?”

Back and forth. Back and forth. “Not like you,” I tell him as I bring my hands to my breasts and pinch my nipples.

Rick grabs my hips as he hardens inside me. “Tell me what you want, gorgeous.”

I bite my lip, grinding down on him. “Fuck my ass.”

He reaches around and plays with my hole. “You sure, kitten? You sure it’s not tired?” he coos.

I love it when he calls me kitten. That is when I know he holds full control and I am at his beck and call. “I’m sure, Daddy. Fuck my pretty little ass.”

He pinches one of my nipples and twists. “Only after you come on daddy’s cock pretty kitten.” Rick lays back and I press my hands against his chest and ride him until I scream out in pleasure. Then he flips me on my back, grabs a vibrator from the drawer under our bed, turns it on and inserts it in my pussy, and guides himself in my tight hole.

“So tight, kitten.” A moment later, my legs are over his shoulders and he’s hovering an inch above me, fucking my ass hard.

“Oh, god,” I moan. Within seconds, he has me feeling a thousand times more than what Tim did. “I need to come, daddy.”

He clutches my shoulders and fucks me harder, faster. With my whines and his grunts, it will be soon. “I’m there, kitten. Let go, gorgeous.”

Hot seed floods my ass as I explode around the vibrator. Rick leans back, yanks it out, and runs his fingers up and down my soaked slit. “Who does this belong to, kitten?”

“You, daddy.”

“Remember that.”

“Always.”