Flying Monkeys

by Tymber Dalton

  He didn’t want to leave her, but the mission came first.

  Foxtrot started working on her belt and trousers next, Kilo allowing her to stand to shove them down her legs and step out of them before pulling her back down in front of him, on top of Foxtrot.

  Beneath her, through his trousers, she felt Foxtrot’s hard bulge pressing against her pussy. Against the seam of her ass behind her she felt Kilo’s equally hard bulge insistently making its presence known. Kilo’s hands slid up her body and cupped her breasts while Foxtrot began playing with her clit. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against Kilo, her head on his shoulder and letting him support her, giving herself over to the sensations and trying to keep her mind anchored there, with them, in the moment.

  “Just relax,” Kilo whispered in her ear. “Let go.”

  She felt the warmth of their bodies through the fabric of their clothes, their hard angles and sculpted muscles just below the surface. All her life, she knew her parents loved her, but she and Tuan both had been trained, conditioned, to stand alone, stand strong, and never lean. Work hard, work harder, work hardest.

  Play was for the weak, for those who didn’t care enough about standing strong.

  Never show weakness, always move forward, never look back.

  It was time for her to admit that not only was that rigid life view not working for her any longer, but that she wasn’t happy.

  Not until these two swept her off her feet.

  Men strong enough to stand with her, behind her, or in front of her, wherever she needed them. Men who were happy to let her be who she needed to be yet were there and ready to help keep her going.

  Who wanted to bring balance to her life not because she needed them or they needed her, but because they wanted to be there.

  As her desire grew under Foxtrot’s skilled fingers, getting her wet, making her clit throb, Kilo’s hands disappeared from her breasts and slid down to her waist. He guided her forward, until she knelt over Foxtrot’s face.

  Foxtrot’s fingers left her clit and clamped down around her hips, pulling her cunt onto his mouth with a moan of pleasure from both of them.

  Kilo disappeared for only a moment, then returned, his warm body no longer clothed. He gently pushed her forward a little, until she was bracing herself on her arms on the bedroll. Then she felt him swipe his cock through her pussy lips before easing the head inside her.

  Her head dropped forward, eyes squeezed shut as her orgasm slammed into her.

  “That’s it,” Kilo said. “Let him suck you off while I work my cock into you, baby.”

  She didn’t know if it was a series of explosions, or one long, rolling orgasm washing through her while Foxtrot licked and sucked on her clit. Meanwhile, Kilo still slowly eased his cock inside her, taking his time, filling her.

  This was perfection. This was what she needed. They were what she needed. Life was short and brutal and meant to be enjoyed, if you could tease any fun out of it.

  She didn’t want her last conscious thought to be filled with regrets over the chances she didn’t take.

  When Kilo had his cock worked all the way inside her, his hands stroked her back before settling on her waist. “Okay, baby,” he said, his voice strained. “Let’s take a ride.”

  She couldn’t move much, with Foxtrot’s fingers clamped around her hips and his mouth latched onto her clit, but she slowly started rocking as Kilo began fucking her. Then Foxtrot’s hands released her hips and he reached up to her breasts. As he started playing with her nipples, gently pinching them, it triggered another orgasm.

  Kilo moaned. “Oh, baby. Damn. You do that again, I’m going to blow my load.”

  This was heaven. Pleasure rolled through her and she didn’t care who could hear her as she ground her face against Foxtrot’s mouth and let out cries of passion. Kilo started fucking her harder and faster, burying his cock deep inside her pussy at the bottom of every stroke, filling her, driving her closer toward yet another orgasm.

  Everything blurred into one small and condensed universe that ended outside the reach of her men’s arms, their bodies, everything about them.

  This wasn’t just sex, this was making love, and she loved everything about them.

  That thought tipped her over the edge again. Kilo pounded his cock into her, faster, catching up and then letting out a groan of his own as he fell still buried deep inside her.

  Kilo wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up, against him, nuzzling her neck. “Love you, baby,” he whispered. “If you remember nothing else, remember that.”

  “Love you, too.”

  She felt Foxtrot pat her on the thigh. “Dude, move,” Foxtrot said, his words muffled by her pussy. “Your balls are touching my chin. I love you, but not like that.”

  She laughed as she and Kilo fell over sideways, off Foxtrot and onto the bedroll. He sat up and grinned at her, wiping her juices off his chin before pinning her between his arms and kissing her. “Don’t move,” he said as he sat up and quickly unfastened his trousers, shoving them and his briefs down his hips. Like that, he grabbed his cock and slid home inside her.

  She wrapped her arms and legs around him, his gaze boring down into hers. “Love you so much,” he said, slowly fucking her. “Never loved anyone like I love you.” Then he kissed her before she could respond, his hips pistoning his cock deep and hard and fast, every stroke hitting her sensitive, swollen clit.

  She didn’t think she’d come again, but she did, a sweet, fluttering orgasm that was more than enough to satisfy Foxtrot. He quit holding back, his satisfied moan rolling from deep inside him as he took a few last strokes and fell still inside her with her body wrapped around his.

  He buried his face in the crook of her neck as she stroked his back, his hair. “Love you, too,” she said.

  Kilo stretched out alongside her, capturing one of her hands and lacing his fingers through hers. He brought it up to his lips and feathered kisses across her flesh. “Let’s let him get naked and get you snuggled between us so we can all get some sleep,” he said, the voice of reason. “I would love to spend all night making you scream our names, but you have important stuff to do tomorrow, and no telling when I’ll get a chance to sleep again.”

  Foxtrot finally sat up, untangling himself from her. He was naked seconds later, his warmth completing the cocoon of them around her. After kissing them both good night, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to go to sleep right away, but then she was crashing hard and deep into a dreamless slumber.

  * * * *

  The next morning, she was awakened by Kilo trying to slip out of bed without waking her or Foxtrot. She reached for and found his hand, tugging on it.

  He leaned in and kissed her. “Good morning,” he whispered. “I need to grab a shower.”

  “Not without me.” She eased away from Foxtrot and found his T-shirt from the night before. Pulling it on, it fell past her hips.

  Hell, wasn’t like any of the men in the group hadn’t seen a naked woman before.

  She grabbed her kit and a towel and followed Kilo into the bathroom. When he started the water, she stripped off the T-shirt and pressed her body against his back. He smiled at her in the mirror, where he was trying to shave. “You could have slept in a little.”

  She peeked over his shoulder. “I know. I didn’t want to.”

  His smile faded. He put down the electric razor and turned to her, holding her. “I’ll come back. Or rather, you guys will join us.”

  “You can’t promise that.”

  He tipped her chin up to his face and kissed her, long and sweet. “I promise I’ll do my damnedest, as long as you do, too. How’s that?”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  She stepped into the shower so he could finish shaving. While in there, she quickly shaved her legs and washed her hair. Then Kilo joined her.

  And he was hard.

  She sank to her knees under the spray and engulfed his cock in her mouth, laving her tongue over the head, enjoying
the soft sounds of pleasure he made as she did.

  Stroking her head, he said, “Jesus, you have no idea what that does to me, baby.”

  After a couple of minutes of that, he pulled her to her feet, spun her around, and quickly lined his cock up with her pussy. “I want to finish inside you like this,” he said as he pushed in, filling her cunt. His body pressed hers against the tile wall as he reached around and found her clit with his fingers.

  “Like this,” Kilo whispered in her ear. “My cock buried inside you, my cock filling you. I can’t wait until we get settled at the new place and we can take you both at the same time again.” His hunger, his passion, all transmitted through his throaty tone, his fingers rolling her clit between them and driving her closer. “You were made for us, baby. You fit us as perfectly as we fit you. And I want to feel you coming all over my cock. Having you means all the more reason for us to get through this so we can go somewhere, just the three of us, and spend our days and nights wrapped around and inside you until you can’t remember what it was like to be alone and you don’t even want to.”

  Her eyes dropped closed as her orgasm swelled and burst, his words as much as his fingers pushing her over the edge.

  “That’s it, baby,” Kilo said, now fucking her as well as still playing with her clit and keeping it going. “Give me what I want. Because I don’t want to do anything but love you and give you pleasure.”

  Only when he was convinced he’d wrung every last bit of her orgasm out of her did he finally move his hands to her hips. Hard, fast, deep, and guaranteed to stay in her thoughts as she replayed it, he repeatedly drove his cock into her pussy until he finally emptied his balls inside her, filling her.

  Breathing hard, he wrapped his arms around her and turned them, leaning against the wall as he held her cradled against him, his cock still inside her. He spread his legs, forcing hers farther apart.

  And one insistent hand dropped between her legs again as the other arm curled around her and firmly held her in place.

  “Just one more,” he whispered in her ear before nipping the side of her neck.

  She didn’t think she had it in her, but he knew her body better than she did at this point. One last ripple of pleasure shuddered through her, responding to his touch, obeying his hands.

  Kilo’s pleased chuckle echoed through her soul. “There’s my girl.”

  Reluctant to dislodge his softening cock, she finally turned, letting him hold her, his heart thrumming against her ear. “You’d better not let anything happen to you,” she warned.

  “Don’t worry, baby. We all have a vested interest in staying alive.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Mary Silo sat in her usual place on the stage as her husband gave his sermon Sunday morning. Next to her, as always, sat slimy little Jerald.

  Weasel boy.

  Her pulse raced. She’d been using her largest purse the past couple of weeks in preparation for this day. Normally, all it held was her makeup bag, wallet, and a few other things.

  Today, it held quite a lot. For starters, the several thousand dollars of cash she’d withdrawn from the ATM while her nurse had gone to get them lunch during Mary’s hairdresser appointment a few days earlier. Then there were the three changes of clothes. She’d carefully taken them, article by article over several days each morning while dressing, and had hidden them inside the purse. Hannibal hadn’t been able to spot her ruse over the video cameras, and the clothes were now tightly rolled up and tucked into a zip-top baggy.

  Also, she had a pair of sensible shoes without heels, and a small, sharp paring knife she’d snuck from the kitchen while the housekeeper and nurse weren’t paying attention.

  It also contained her medication, because had she left that at home, it might have tipped her hand to Hannibal sooner rather than later.

  The night before, while Hannibal had been out giving a packed Saturday evening sermon, Mary had snuck into his bedroom and used his computer. The night nurse thought she was in bed asleep and had settled in to watch a TV program.

  Mary had transferred the entire contents of her bank account, the one left to her by her parents, into an off-shore account she’d created three nights earlier while Hannibal was out. She’d waited, heart pounding, after clicking Transfer.

  A moment later, she’d received a notification by e-mail on her secret phone that the transfer had gone through.

  She knew Hannibal didn’t have any keystroke tracking software on that computer. It would defeat the purpose of him hiding his tracks if anyone ever doubted him. The few rare times she or anyone else in the household used a computer, it was the one in the living room, usually to check things like TV or movie schedules, business hours, or to look up trivial things.

  She’d nearly giggled with glee as she searched through his computer and located the video files she wanted. It didn’t matter that they were of her, depicting her being debased, used. Abused.

  It was proof of what he had done to her.

  Now the world will see.

  She had selected several that she’d already scouted during previous sessions on Hannibal’s computer. Ones that would particularly show what a vicious animal he was.

  Ones where he admitted some of his plans to her, taunting her.

  She’d transferred copies of the files to the remote storage account she had, then went back into the browser history and cleared it the same way Hannibal did every time.

  So predictable. So narcissistic. So easy to manipulate.

  His pride would be his downfall. She would see to it.

  And she’d take down that damned little weasel with him, too.

  As she sat on the stage, waiting, forcing herself to remain calm, dead, detached, it took every ounce of will she had not to stare at the clock and will it to move. After every sermon he gave now, Hannibal spent longer and longer out front talking to people, Jerald usually going with him once leaving her alone backstage.

  Nearly thirty minutes the past two times.

  From searches on the burner phone, she had in her head the memorized the map of the area surrounding the church.

  Finally, Hannibal ended his droning and accepted the predictable standing ovation. Mary slowly stood at her normal time and let Jerald escort her backstage.

  This time, he didn’t even wait to see she got into and out of the bathroom okay. He simply ducked back out onto the stage to follow his master like a little yappy dog.

  Waiting a moment, she reached into the bathroom, flipped on the light and fan, punched the door lock, and closed it again.

  It would look like she was inside. By the time they got someone to open it, she’d be long gone.

  She took a deep breath and sprinted for the side stage door. It would lead to the access corridor that went back to the dressing rooms sometimes used by visiting acts, the props storage and workroom…

  And rear stage exit.

  Since it was frequently used as an entrance, it wasn’t equipped with a fire alarm.

  She blinked in the bright sunlight and didn’t pause while she fished her sunglasses out of her purse as she quickly walked through the rear parking area. The departing crowd hadn’t reached this area yet, and anyone who did would only see her from the rear.

  And no one would expect to see her out there, meaning they likely wouldn’t recognize her. Especially if they saw her moving so quickly.

  Two blocks directly west of the building sat a fast-food restaurant. There, she ducked into their side entrance, changed clothes and used the bathroom, and then immediately left, heading west three more blocks.

  That was where a large hotel sat. A hotel which, due to its close proximity to the airport, had a large number of cabs waiting out front on a regular basis.

  Glancing at the phone in her hand, she realized she’d only been gone ten minutes. This was going a lot faster than she’d hoped. A bright smile and a twenty dollar bill to a doorman got her into a cab and speeding toward the airport less than a minute later.
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br />   The airport meant rental car outlets, and their church had a standing corporate account. Not that she’d traveled in a long time. Hell, she hoped she remembered how to drive. She had a valid driver’s license, Hannibal making sure she got it renewed every time it was due.

  And her passport.

  Which also lay tucked in her purse.

  She was glad to see the rental car agency wasn’t too busy when she walked into the cool, glassed-in lobby. A friendly agent verified she was still listed on the corporate account and was happy to rent her the vehicle. Of course Hannibal had kept her listed, because he made a huge show publicly and to the rest of his staff that he considered her a vital part of his success. Only Dr. Isley and Jerald ever saw hints of the man’s true nature.

  And she was counting on that ego of his, to not think about checking any of the corporate accounts once her disappearance was noticed.

  Fifteen minutes later, Mary tried not to sob as she carefully pulled out onto the highway. Wouldn’t do for her to make it this far and then get in an accident. She knew, eventually, someone would put together her disappearance with the rental car, once it made the news.

  But first, they’d have to catch her. And she knew Hannibal’s first suspicion would be that someone had abducted her. He wouldn’t want to admit she’d escaped on her own, under her own power.

  She counted on that narcissistic surety of his to give her the head start she’d need. Because once she reached Denver in a little under six hours, she’d be ditching the rental at the airport. She knew that rental cars usually had trackers in them, but once he found out she’d rented a car, police would be able to find the car anyway. By the time someone realized she’d left the rental lot, she’d already have purchased a car from some little “buy here, pay here” place and would be driving east.

  Destination, St. Louis.

  It’d be the last place he’d think to look for her. And she’d hopefully have a front-row seat to his public downfall when all the dirt she had on him hit the mainstream media.