Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
I place the lube on the windowsill and work quickly where I can, getting all the food off him and cleaning every inch of his skin. He tries to wash me too, but I’m not getting clean because he’s using his tongue to do it. He sucks on my earlobe, kisses down my neck, my chest, but when I pull him up and wrap my arm around him to press him to me, he stops trying to take control.
I hold him close and slide my free hand down his back. My fingers slide into his crack, and I press against his hole, massaging and loosening up his tight ring, but I don’t push inside yet.
It doesn’t take long for him to become impatient, so he turns and puts his back to me, leans forward, and sticks his ass out as far as possible.
“That’s not really playing fair.” How am I supposed to resist that?
“Hurry up,” Prescott calls out again.
“You heard the man,” Brady says. “At least get me ready enough to put him out of his misery when we get back out there. You’re an expert at opening me up quickly.”
Not to the amount we’ll need, but he’s right. I can get him stretched enough for him to ride Prescott to shut up the impatient whining.
I reach for the lube and sink to my knees so I can watch my fingers work him open. He’s so greedy, pushing back to make my fingers go deeper. I scissor them, stretching him, and then rub against his prostate.
He’s lost, drowning in deep breaths, and I get lost right along with him.
“Kit,” he breathes. “I need more.”
I add a third finger, and he moans.
“You guys are killing me,” Prescott says. “I can hear you.”
“Please let me go ride his dick now.” Brady uses his begging voice, and it’s so hard to say no to that.
But he is stretched enough for one of us. I can work him open the rest of the way once Prescott gets in on the action.
I pull my fingers out of him. “Get dry and go give him what he wants.”
Brady moves so fast he almost slips, and I have to catch him.
“Carefully. There’s only one part of you I want wrecked tonight.”
Brady shudders and moves slower.
I quickly rinse off and clean the parts Brady missed, but it’s probably a waste with how sweaty and dirty we’re all about to get.
I need a minute. It’s overwhelming being with both of them for the first time since we became official.
Up until this point, I’ve been waiting for them to change their minds. To doubt what we have. I know that sex is just sex, and the three of us have had sex countless times. But I think a part of me has been saying labels don’t change anything, that meeting Brady’s family wasn’t as big a deal as he was letting on, and that this whole thing is still shallow and new, and we don’t really know how it will work between us all. After this, I won’t be able to say those things. Because even if they’re not all in, I will be.
Then again, when have I ever not been in when it comes to Prescott and Brady?
I want us to work so bad I’m terrified of what will happen if it doesn’t.
By the time I tell myself to push down all the doubt and worries—to be in the moment and enjoy tonight as though it were any other night—I get out of the shower and grab a towel, only to stumble into the bedroom and wonder how long I stayed under the hot water.
Brady sinks down on Prescott’s cock, holding on to Prescott’s shoulders for leverage as he moves up and down Prescott’s shaft.
I watch for a little, drying myself off at the same time. I love how they look together. The anticipation grows inside me for when I’ll join them. It’s been an eternity since we’ve all been together like this.
Naked and with all the time in the world.
Poor Pres has been so drugged up since his accident, until tonight, he hasn’t been interested in sex. He’s wanted it, but his body hasn’t cooperated too well. He’s in fine working order right now though. His head’s thrown back in complete ecstasy while his hands grip Brady’s hips hard. I can’t tell if he’s trying to speed Brady up or slow him down.
“Careful, Brady,” I warn. “Get Prescott any closer to the edge and you might not be able to get what you wanted.”
“Or,” Prescott says, “hear me out. You could keep doing this, and we can DP you with a toy or another day.” Prescott’s back arches, and he lets out a long “Fuck.”
It scares Brady into coming to a complete stop on top of Prescott.
“No,” Pres cries out.