Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
21
MORNING WOOD
The next two weeks in London flew by in a whirlwind of press events, including an extravagant premiere night.
Thankfully, the night went as planned with no scandals. All four of us even got to watch the whole movie sitting side by side—including playing barefooted footsie in the darkened theater during the latter half. That got me more than ready for the raunchy sex we’d have later that night—
Uh, yeah. London was bananas. I couldn’t get enough of the boys…my Daddies… and they couldn’t get enough of me.
Every free moment we all weren’t passed out from jetlag, we were exploring each other’s bodies. Okay, okay, mainly it was them exploring my body, because Leander really had a thing for having me tied up, and Janus really liked the sadism of tying me in awkward positions that gave him access to my ass.
Except that Leander hadn’t forgotten Janus’s little trick the first time they’d both taken me at once—not listening and having me raw when Leander had clearly wanted that honor only for himself.
Janus’s cock had strictly been suited up ever since.
But Leander had continued to fuck me no condom, even after I took the morning after pill. One day while the guys did press without me, I visited a women’s clinic and came out with an oval pack of pills.
I don’t know if conversations were had that day out of my hearing, but everything in front of me had become copacetic between the brothers. They were vibing with a harmony I hadn’t seen from them before.
Janus sheathed up, and Leander dommed our scenes, and I came over and over and higher than I knew was possible. How had I not known what my own body could do? Good God! It was like I was meeting my body for the first time. And myself.
I was dirty. I was kinky.
I loved it when they called me their slut.
I wanted to be a whore. It made my clit pulse when they called me dirty things and talked about how hard they wanted to fuck me. I didn’t even blush anymore when I talked about that—them fucking me. I begged them for it every night. And any afternoon we could steal back to the hotel.
I begged Janus to spank my naughty ass because of how amazing it felt when it jiggled the flesh of my butt and my pussy. I begged him to spank me harder, and then I regretted it, and then I blissed out on the pain because it bloomed into pleasure. A pleasure I never could have imagined.
I thought about the little church girl I’d been sometimes, and I thought about how my Daddies were defiling me now, and that made me come even harder when all three of them had their hands on me.
My father had always called women who dared show cleavage whores and shamed any woman he ever saw having a good time or smiling. Or doing anything other than living a life of obedience, depression, oppression, and misery.
So fuck yes, I was a whore. For my new Daddies. Daddies who actually took care of me. Who valued me, even if it was only in the explosive scenes and nights we shared, for me. Who called me beautiful and precious and worshiped my body. I first discovered what it was to orgasm, and then I discovered multi-orgasms, and sometimes, they made my body just continually shake in pulsing pleasure when I got into that weird, dreamy headspace only Janus and Leander taking me together could get me to…
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Leander reached out and grasped my thigh, pinching and making me yelp. I crawled back into bed instead of getting out, giving into what I knew he wanted.
“It’s our last day in London. We’ve got to get going.” I felt like I was glowing from within as I smiled at him. He was so beautiful in the morning. I mean, yes, he was beautiful all the time, but God, in the morning, he took my breath away.
It wasn’t just his looks, which he obviously shared with Janus. It was in his eyes. In the morning, there was something more vulnerable, like he allowed me to see in a little deeper before all his masks went up.
His hand caressed down my hip to my ass. “There’s always time to linger.” He squeezed, then slid his hand further down my thigh, hiking my leg up over his hip and spreading me.
My breath hitched as I slid into him. He was hard. And we were both naked. With one slow thrust of his hips, he entered me.
I gasped and then breathed in, loving the wet slide of him. I was always drenched for them. If I was wearing panties, they were always soggy. And if not, then my tiny hairs, which my daddies insisted I keep, were forever damp little curls.