by Deja Voss
I scream into his mouth, my body completely confused by the sensations tearing through it. It feels so good, so dirty, so amazing, but on the same hand, I feel like I’m going to be torn in two.
“You ok?” Tank asks, running his hand up and down my back.
“Don’t stop,” I plead.
“Just relax, babe,” Red urges, smiling up at me. It’s kind of hard to do when I know if he were to move his finger a millimeter to the left, I’d be cumming all over again.
Tank inches his cock slowly inside me, my muscles stretching to accommodate him, and pleasure washes over my body. I knew I had craved this for some reason, but it wasn’t until this exact moment that I realized why. I’ve never felt anything like this in my life, and as he begins to slowly saw in and out of me, as I begin to relax and embrace the feeling of being completely stuffed, I feel my toes curl and I throw my head back.
“Atta girl,” Red says with a wink, pressing his thumb into my clit, finally letting me have everything I was desperately craving. Esther was wrong; cumming with two cocks inside of you isn’t like Thanksgiving dinner, it’s like every damn holiday of your entire life wrapped up into thirty seconds of bliss.
And I want it every day. All day. I don’t want this feeling to ever end.
They are both sawing in and out of me, Red steadying me from the front, and Tank wrapping his arms around my waist, holding me upright as he plows me deeper and deeper. All I can do is hang here like a rag doll, muttering words that don’t make sense and cumming over and over again. I feel like I’ve lost complete control over my body.
I definitely don’t have a thought in my mind, my brain just melting into a cock drunk puddle of goo.
“You’re going to make me cum,” Tank says with a grunt, pressing his lips into my back as I feel him bottom out deep inside me. Red pumps faster and faster, pulling me down on his dick, my insides desperately milking both of them, squeezing them tighter and tighter.
The warmth of their jizz feels me as their moans escalate. I writhe on top of them, craving their skin against mine.
“You’re perfect, Olive,” Tank whispers in my ear, pulling my mouth to his for a kiss. Red hugs me tight to his body, our chests pressed together as we come down.
“Remind me again why we didn’t do this sooner,” I say with a giggle, closing my eyes, completely exhausted.
“We have the rest of our lives to do this,” Red reminds me. I roll off of him and lay flat on my back on the bed, a huge smile stretched across my face.
“You guys are going to have to finish making dinner,” I laugh. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk anytime soon.”
“You just relax, Olive. I think we can figure it out,” Tank says, kissing me on the forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Olive,” Red teases, “but not as much as I love pot roast.” He pinches my nipple playfully.
“Hey!” I whine. “You haven’t had my pot roast yet. I promise it’s extra terrible. I know I can’t compete with a piece of meat, so I made sure I stacked the odds in my favor.”
“I’m gonna go hop in the shower,” Tank says, pressing his lips to mine.
Red spoons up next to me, hugging me tight to his body like a prized teddy bear, and I close my eyes, completely spent and on the verge of passing out.
“So are you going to be mad if I go try and salvage dinner?” he asks the minute I feel myself drift off.
“Boy, you have a one-track mind,” I laugh. “Go salvage that shit. I’m starving.”
CHAPTER 20
I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders as we sit around the table eating dinner together. I did not, in fact, destroy dinner; actually, we’re all pretty impressed with how my pot roast turned out.
It feels good just relaxing with these two in our natural environment, joking around and talking about our day. It feels almost like before we started this arrangement, on one hand, the casual way we all just get along. On the other hand, now that we’ve officially sealed the deal, I feel like we are closer than we’ve ever been before. I feel like a couple. I feel like we are dating. I think back to some of the actual fucked-up relationships I’ve been in, and the reality is, the only reason why this is fucked-up is because the numbers are different. Everything else is perfect.
“I just want you two to know that I am madly in love with you,” I say out of nowhere. I can feel myself blushing, but I don’t want to stop. “I’ve never been this happy before. I didn’t realize how unhappy I was making myself, denying my feelings for you two, or avoiding you altogether. I’m really the luckiest girl in the world.”
I stand up from the dinner table and begin to collect plates and rinse them for the dishwasher.
“You know we’re crazy about you, Olive,” Red says, filling up a plastic container with leftovers. “I would really be a lot happier if you’d think about moving in, though.” He runs his hand up and down my back and stares at me like I’m acting crazy.
“I don’t understand why, Red. I am here all the time. I only live like five minutes away. I have more clothes than either of you can fit in your closet, and I really like my place. Why do I need to move in to make you happy? We’ve been together less than a month. What’s your hurry?”
He looks dejected by my stance on the whole situation. I’d never want to hurt his feelings, but he’s got to at least give me a good reason before I even consider uprooting a life that’s made me happy and comfortable for so long.
“Olive, you don’t have to move in if you don’t want to,” Tank says. “Our arrangement right now is perfectly fine. I think what Red’s trying to say is that he’s all in, and he just wants to make sure you know it. We talked to the guys about it last night, even.”
“You did?” I ask. I really didn’t know when or how we were going to broach that subject, and I am kind of happy they did it for me. It was hard enough telling my girlfriends, let alone thinking about explaining it to my employer.
“I want to take care of you, Olive. I don’t want you to have to worry about paying rent or fixing stuff in your place if it breaks or mowing your lawn. I want to give you a good and comfortable life,” Red says. “I just don’t understand why you are so reluctant.”
“Do you really think I mow my own lawn and fix broken stuff?” I laugh. “I thought that was what prospects were for.” I wrap my arms around his waist and kiss him on the shoulder. “I’m not reluctant, Red. I’m just a fan of letting things have the space to grow. I’m not going anywhere. We have the rest of our lives ahead of us like you said. Plus, I fucking hate moving,” I tease.
“You two have the rest of your lives ahead of you. Every day of my life is borrowed time,” he says, pulling away from me.
“Red, are you sick? Is something wrong?” I ask. If he has some sort of terminal illness nobody has ever told me, and he definitely doesn’t appear to be a man who’s about to die.
“I’m not sick. I’m just realistic about who I am and what could happen to me. Between the club and the fighting and my criminal record, I don’t know how long I’m going to be around. I have to live every day like I’m dying. And if it’s going to be my last day on this earth, I want to know that you have a roof over your head in a house that’s paid for and someone to look after you.”
“Babe, do you know how morbid that is?” I ask. “Maybe that’s how you had to live your life in the past, but now you have two people who care about you more than anything in the world. We won’t let you slip.”
I feel awful and overwhelmed at the same time. I’ve never had anyone worry about my well-being before, especially not my future. I squeeze his hand in mine.
“If anything does happen to you, we’re going to be here to take care of you. That’s how this is going to work. I’m not just some little helpless thing who can’t take care of herself. I’ve been doing it my whole life now. And Tank is the smartest and most responsible man I know. This is not a burden you should be carrying.”
&nb
sp; He hugs me tight to his body. I know he’s not crying, but I also know I got through to him.
“No more of this live like you’re dying shit,” I tell him. “And if you really want, I will stay here more days than I don’t. I still need Mondays and Wednesdays to myself, though.”
“Why?” he asks.
“Because I feel like it. It’s a girl thing. Sometimes I just want to paint my toenails and watch TV and wax my lady parts in privacy. You all don’t need to see what happens every second of my life.”
“I assumed you were just naturally hairless,” he shrugs with a laugh.
“Yeah, I’m about as naturally hairless as my tits are real,” I giggle. “And if you really want a peek behind the curtain, I also poop.”
“No you don’t,” Red says.
“Only on Mondays and Wednesdays,” I tell him. “And did you even ask Tank if he’s ok with me moving in or were you just going to drop this on him like a surprise puppy?”
“Olive, I would marry you tomorrow if it wouldn’t overshadow Gavin’s wedding. You can move in right now if you want. Hell, I’ll burn all of Red’s clothes so you have the closet space you need.”
“Don’t burn all his clothes,” I say. I realize I’m wearing his sweatpants and Tank’s t-shirt like some kind of ragamuffin. Apparently, they really aren’t in it for pretty perfect put together Olive. Maybe moving in with them a couple days a week would be kind of fun. It’d be nice not to have to try and pack an overnight bag with everything I need every time I come over here. I prefer my own sweatpants and ratty t-shirts.
We spend the rest of the night just lounging around, watching TV, and passing around a joint. When it’s time for bed, Red takes me into his room and slides me out of my clothes. We curl up next to each other under the covers, his arm draped over me possessively.
“Are you ok?” I whisper as he starts to drift off.
“I’m great,” he says. “This is great.”
“I mean what you said earlier. Do you know something that I don’t know? Is something bad about to happen?”
“Probably,” he says with a sigh. “Isn’t that the way things always work for me?”
“Not anymore,” I say, kissing his hand. “Things are going to change, I promise.”
CHAPTER 21
Tank:
Red’s back to the gym today, Olive’s back to work tonight, and I just finished up a bike I’ve been working on in the shop for the last three months. This thing has been a real bitch, but it’s also one of my best restoration projects to date. Finding parts for a 1930s Indian Chief is like looking for a needle in a haystack, and piecing them together in a way that doesn’t look and function like total garbage has been one of the hardest jobs I’ve ever taken on. I have been working on this thing in between jobs for paying customers, kind of a little passion project, but there’s a lot of money in flipping this sucker.
I had it hit with a slick bright red paint job with the classic Indian logo on the side. This thing is loud as fuck and slick as shit, and I’m going to need at least a few weeks to play with it before I decide whether or not to sell it.
My dad’s going to flip when he sees this thing. He was definitely less than thrilled when I dropped out of college to take an apprenticeship as a mechanic in a bike shop, but with my busted ACL and football out of the question, school just didn’t appeal to me anymore. Now that I have my own shop, he’s come around, and I know he’ll be as proud of this bike as I am.
The guys in the club are going to go apeshit, too. Sure, our main rides are built for speed and stamina, but we all have a soft spot for collecting classics for rallies or afternoon cruises.
I pull into Ollie’s driveway, hoping she’ll let me take her for a ride before she has to go in to the bar tonight. As much fun as we’ve been having, it hit me today that I haven’t really taken her on a proper date yet.
Before I can walk up on the front porch, she’s got the door open. She kisses me on the lips.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” she says. “I didn’t think I’d see you until later.”
“Are you busy?” I ask.
“Not really, I just got out of the shower and I’m taking my happy ass time getting ready for work. I was just about to make myself some dinner. You want to come in for a toaster strudel?”
This girl makes me smile. “How about I do you one better? Let’s go to the diner and get some real waffles. I need to put some miles on this new bike, make sure everything is running right.”
She walks out into the driveway in her bare feet.
“Wow.” She whistles. “I’m freaking impressed. Is this what you’ve been working on all summer?”
“Sure is. What do you think?”
“I think I’m in love. I think it’s time for me to learn how to ride.”
“Well, this probably isn’t the best starter bike.” Of course I’m thinking about her safety, but I’m also thinking about the seventy-thousand other reasons in the shape of dollar bills. “I have the perfect one for you if you want me to teach you.”
Her face lights up, and my dick nearly blows a hole through my jeans thinking about her on a motorcycle. Just when I think she can’t get any hotter.
“Oh my God, you’re the best,” she says. “Give me like ten minutes to get ready. You can come inside if you want to.”
I take off my boots in the doorway and walk into the living room of the tiny trailer. The place isn’t bad. I know Esther had a lot of upgrades done before Olive moved in, and she definitely keeps it clean, but it’s still a single wide from the 1970s. One bad storm, and this place could instantly be a pile of scrap metal. If it makes her happy, though, it’s not my place to judge.
“Are you going to come back here with me?” she calls from the bedroom.
“I just figured I’d give you your privacy,” I say, standing in the doorway.
“Tank, you’re my boyfriend. You’ve seen me naked more than once.”
I sit on the edge of her bed while she sorts through her closet. The girl isn’t kidding about having an excessive amount of clothes. All of her drawers are overflowing so much they can barely shut, and every time she pulls something off the rack, a handful of other things fall to the floor.
“Don’t judge me,” she giggles, as she throws an armful of shirts on the bed next to me. “You collect bikes, I collect shiny scraps of fabric.”
She slides out of her running shorts and slips into a pair of black leather leggings so tight that you could see her perfect ass from outer space. I watch in fascination as she tries on shirt after shirt, throwing each one on the floor when she’s done with it.
“I’ve never seen anything like this in my life,” I laugh.
“You’ve never watched a girl get ready before?”
“I guess not.”
She fishes a bright red shirt off the floor that she’d tossed a long time ago, a tight thing that stops right above her bellybutton.
“You look hot, Olive,” I say. She definitely knows how to dress herself.
“You want me to put something different on?” she asks.
“Why?”
“I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable out with me in something like this.”
“Olive, I don’t care how you dress. I hope you know that. You’re gorgeous. Every time a guy stares at you, it’s a compliment to me, because I know exactly who you’re going home with tonight.”
She pecks me on the lips and walks into the bathroom. “I love that in you,” she says, dabbing make-up on in the mirror. “Your confidence. It’s sexy.”
“Why would I feel any other way? I don’t want you to change just because we’re dating. I fell in love with you the instant I met you. You’ve never given me any reason to doubt what kind of person you are.”
She puts her hair back into a braided ponytail and spritzes herself down with that vanilla perfume that drives me insane.
“Let’s get out of here,” she says. “If you keep feeding my ego like this,
these pants are going to end up on the floor with the rest of my clothes.”
“Well I hope they’re going to end up on my floor tonight,” I wink.
She slides her hand in my back pocket and we head for the door.
Feeling her wrapped around me on the back of a bike is one of the most satisfying feelings in the world. It’s always been the only time that she’s been all mine, even before we started dating. Knowing that she’s here with me, experiencing this freedom, trusting me with her safety, I love it. I could drive forever.
We go to the local truck stop diner, a place we’ve been together hundreds of times before, the only place nearby that’s open after we close the bar at night, and as she slides in the booth next to me, instead of across from me like we usually do, I feel like everything is right in the world. I’ve finally got my old lady.
She orders a waffle smothered in ice cream and hot fudge and washes it down with a pot of coffee.
“Either you have the best metabolism in the world, or you secretly run marathons in your spare time,” I tease her.
“I just assumed I didn’t have to worry about my figure anymore, you know, now that I’m tied down,” she giggles. “Seriously, though, this metabolism is about the only good thing I inherited from my mother.”
“Is she still alive?” I ask. Olive is very close-lipped about her family, her past, her background, and it’s not that it bothers me, I just want her to know that she can come to me with that kind of stuff.
“I guess you could call it that. Carla isn’t exactly the most maternal woman, though. We hardly speak anymore. When she does call me, she just wants money. I admit, I give it to her when I can. She did bring me into this world, but that’s about it.”
“That sucks,” is all I can really fathom.
“Yes and no,” she says, shrugging, smiling faintly. “Because I never see her, I don’t have to worry about hiding who I’m dating from her.”
“I promise we’re going to fix that really soon, Olive. I’m not hiding you. I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. My mom has been dying for a daughter-in-law for years now. She’s going to want to be your best friend. She’s going to call you five times a day and show up at your house unannounced and bring you cookies at work. You better brace yourself.”
