by Dee Garcia
I’m never a quick fuck, but I’m gonna fucking bust all over the place by the time Desi comes into the mix, if not before.
Leaning in closely, I flick my tongue out against Kat’s sex and work my way up with leisure, swirling the very tip in slow circles around her clit that leave her shuddering in my grasp.
“Fuck…” she hisses, restless hands clasping her tits in a death grip.
I eat her fiendishly, without mercy. If you were an outsider looking in, you'd think I haven’t eaten in weeks; lips, tongue, and teeth licking, sucking, and slurping every inch of her cunt until her legs tremble.
Coming up for air with her juices coating my chin, I press her into the mattress and claim her mouth in another harsh kiss. She whimpers in need, drawing a triumphant smile on my lips.
“Ready to wake her up?” My tone is deep, gruff, but she nods without hesitation and pushes me away, her chest heaving through the rush of desire.
I haven’t so much as blinked and she’s on her knees, delectable ass in the air as she crawls across the bed to where Desi miraculously lays fast asleep despite our heated moment. Only problem is, she’s headed in the wrong direction…
Swatting her ass, I yank her back between my legs by the ankles, shaking my head while chiding her in amusement. “Eh, eh, eh, wrong end, pretty girl.”
Kat’s eyes widen in realization. “Jag, we’ve never—”
“Do you trust me?” The abrupt question interrupts her objection.
“What?”
“Do. You. Trust. Me?” I ask again, enunciating every word with clarity.
“Yeah,” she swallows. “I guess.”
“Then don't think, and take your fine ass between her legs. Would you not enjoy waking up like that?”
“Yes,” she answers immediately, cocking my head to one side.
I grin devilishly. “Exactly.”
And just like that, whatever doubt she'd had upon my initial demand evaporates into thin air. Settling herself between Desi’s legs, Kat slips her fingers beneath the waistband of the birthday girl’s pajama pants and tugs on them gently, exposing inch after inch of smooth skin. I’m instantly entranced, almost unable to cut my eyes away… But if I don’t, then I'll be useless in the equation and that’s not a fucking option.
I’m taking them both before I walk out that door.
Looming over Desi, I go in for the kill, licking a trail along her neck to her ear.
“Desi,” I whisper, kissing my way to the other side when she turns her head. “Desi, wake up.”
The softest, most inaudible moan tumbles past her lips as she stirs through mine and Kat’s combined efforts. The sound is a green light for us both. Biting down on the opposite curve subconsciously draws her fingers into my hair at the same moment her hips buck slightly off the bed. Kat hums appreciatively and I feel, rather than see her pin Desi’s legs to the bed.
“Desi, wake up,” I try again, trailing the tips of my fingers along her stomach.
That does it.
Deep golden eyes flutter open, adjusting to the light, to double the ministrations quickly driving her to the precipice. Witnessing the exact moment recognition flashes across her face , as she gets her first real look at the performance she's walked in on is fucking priceless.
“Holy shit,” she pants, her mouth falling slack as a surge of pleasure all but slaps her in the face. “Jag?”
I grin. “The one and only. You awake now, Princess?”
“What do you think?”
“I'm gonna go with yes. Been waiting for you to wake up. Come here…”
Grabbing a handful of lush hips, I fall onto my back and pull Desi on top of me, her t-shirt billowing onto my face, drowning my vision in sudden darkness.
I can’t help but laugh.
Said laughter quickly fades away, though, when I feel something warm and wet slide onto my dick in time with the unprecedented view of Desi whipping her shirt over her head.
Groaning, I clench a fistful of her hair and another of her ass as she drops her lips to mine, her full tits pressing against my chest while Kat’s mouth works magic on my cock. It’s stimulation overload and, apparently, Desi thinks so, too, a ragged moan tumbling from her throat to mine. Only then do I realize Kat’s thoroughly enjoying us both, her fingers buried deep in Desi’s cunt as she sucks and slurps her way along my shaft.
“Jesus-fucking-Christ, Kat,” Desi blurts, her eyes clamped tightly, to which Kat hums attentively.
She keeps at it without falter, too, bringing us both to the edge until, suddenly, everything minus Desi’s lips on mine comes to a screeching halt. It’s like running face-first into a brick wall, my cock throbbing in excruciating pain from sudden abandonment. I’m on the verge of protesting through the flurry of insanity when sweet relief floods me before I could utter a word.
Kat sheathes me with a condom and aligns the head of my dick with Desi’s entrance, swiftly pushing her down onto my length until I’m filling her to capacity. I hiss as her warmth envelopes me at the same moment she sits up and throws her head back, adjusting to the unexpected intrusion.
“Holy shit, you're a big boy,” she moans, rolling her hips slowly, her pussy clamping around me like a vise.
“That he is,” Kat snickers, and when I peek around Desi, I catch her at the end of the bed thoroughly enjoying the view, her fingers leisurely working her pussy.
Desi glances over her shoulder, too, and giggles. “You filthy-fucking-bitch.”
“Guilty. Now, hurry up and come. I want a turn too.”
That makes two of us, pretty girl.
Steady at first, I begin pumping my hips, meeting Desi thrust for thrust. The harder she grinds into me, the harder I drive into her, my hands drawn to her tits. Hers are big, and much like Kat’s, soft and round.
I need them in my mouth.
But I also want Kat’s ass.
I need and want everything, everything like the greedy motherfucker I am because its at my disposal. They came onto me. I hadn’t done a thing.
And they’re the perfect combination, sexy and lethal in all the best ways possible.
Say it with me…fucking heaven.
With a harsh slap to Desi’s ass, I go off like a jackhammer, plowing into her without reserve; a hand in her hair, one arm wound around her waist. Through the blur of my ministrations, I know I’m getting closer, or really, she’s getting closer. The way her pussy squeezes me says it all. So I keep at it, sucking a nipple here, slapping her ass there, until finally she falls apart, her forehead falling to my shoulder as I throttle her through the monstrous wave of her orgasm. Shuddering in my grasp like a wind-up toy that’d been released, a string of expletives tangled with moans fill the air.
I waste zero time pulling out and getting her on her back thereafter. I’m still harder than a fucking rock and the need for release is making me fucking crazed, but I need Kat to come first.
“Ready, pretty girl,” I pant, stroking myself.
Kats smirks and crawls over to me like the saucy little kitten she is. “Been ready. Tell me where you want me.”
“Get on top of her, on her your knees.”
She slithers right into position beautifully, and God damn is that ever a gorgeous fucking image. I take one good look at it, cataloging it to the spank bank, and slide right into her from behind, relishing the feel of her pussy wrapped around me.
Jesus-fucking-Christ.
She’s so warm, wet as hell. Different, in a good way.
And her ass, that ass is finally right where I want it, begging me to leave my mark. My palm meets her skin and she lets out gratified moan, urging me to fuck her harder. She and Desi are up to something, too, something I can’t see with Kat’s dark tresses spilled over them like a veil…
But I can hear them—a soundtrack that rushes all of my blood straight to my dick, more acutely than before.
“Pound her, Jag, she can take it,” Desi encourages, and it’s then I can see her hand clasped around Kat’
s throat.
Talk about a team-fucking-effort.
Literally.
And I’m about to seal the deal.
Blanketing her back with my front, I snake a hand between her legs and bring my fingers to her clit, rubbing frenzied circles that leave Kat breathless in seconds. I’m right there with her, my head tossed back with a ragged groan as I come harder than I have in a long time…
This is what wet dreams are fucking made of.
A warm body snuggles closer to my side, her leg draping across my waist, small hand trailing softly up my chest.
“Jag,” Kat groans, her voice heavy laden with sleep. “Your phone.”
My phone?
Yep. Somewhere across the room my phone is indeed chiming away, the sound an increasing irritable shrill as I fully come to. Rubbing my eyes, I peel them open to a now brightly lit suite, the hotel curtains barely drowning out thick rays of sunlight threatening to burst through.
Exhausted doesn’t quite cover how I feel.
On a normal basis, I would've ignored the call and gone right back to sleep, but no one ever calls me this early. Probably ‘cause they knew better.
So who the fuck is it and what the fuck do they want?
Squeezing Kat's ass, I give it a little slap, urging her off my arm that, miraculously, isn’t a boneless blob after being slept on for hours. I manage to scoot off the bed without waking a very passed out Desi in the process, and stumble through the room, following the trail of forgotten clothes to where my pants lay in a heap on top of my Chucks.
Fishing my phone free from one of the pockets, I still at the sight of her name on my screen. It’s quite possibly the worst wake up call ever and definitely not what I want to see at 8 am. But I find myself answering anyway ‘cause if I don’t, she'd keep calling until I do.
“Hello?”
“Where the hell have you been? I've been calling your damn apartment since yesterday.”
Sighing profoundly, I drag my ass to the bathroom and shut the door with a soft click, leaning up against the vanity. “I was busy, Calla. If it was urgent, why didn't you call my cell?”
“I shouldn’t have to fucking chase you, Jagger. Your daughter wanted to speak to you, so I called only to please her. But you know, as usual, you're too busy for her.”
“The fuck?” I growl, my head rearing back as anger instantly sparked through my veins. “I'm always there to answer Mila’s calls.”
“Yeah, her calls. That's about it.”
“Seriously? That's all you fucking allow! I get to see her three times a month, if that, and even then she can't spend the night regardless of all the times both she and I have asked you to let her stay. What the hell did I ever do to deserve being kept from my daughter?”
“You made your decision, Jagger. Now deal with it,” she snarl, and my blood boils all the more.
She has some fucking nerve.
“Are you kidding me? You act like I'm gonna bring her to the club and let her watch her dad dick down the entire front row.”
Calla scoffs. “Not exactly an image I want to envision.”
“Why? Cause it's not you who's getting dicked down? Not my fault your insecurities and lack of trust lead you to walking away.”
“Don’t even go there and try pinning this shit on me! I gave you an ultimatum and you—”
“An ultimatum that never should’ve been put in place,” I interject with a snarl of my own. “If you loved me as much as you claimed, you would’ve trusted me.”
“Trusted you? You wanted me to fucking trust you after you came home talking about becoming a stripper? I was five months pregnant, Jagger! What the hell did you really expect?”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I take a few deep breaths and will myself to calm the fuck down before opening my mouth again.
“Why are we even having this conversation again, Calla? It's history, as it should be and always will be.”
“Because you had to go and open your big, stupid mouth.”
“Me? Was it not you that... You know what,” I say, resigned, “Just forget it.”
I could’ve kept arguing, could've defended myself more assertively.
But it’s better off this way.
Why?
Because this right here is a recurring topic. Every few months or so, Calla finds always finds way to rehash the past—usually using our daughter as ammunition—and like every other time, I fucking feed into it.
Truth is, I hate it, and Lord knows I try to keep a lid on what I spout in anger, but it isn’t so easy to brush off when I know she’s tainting my image to Mila on the daily.
She wants her to hate me.
No, she hasn’t actually come out and said that, but it doesn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to take note of her silent intentions. You see, I might’ve understood her wanting to protect Mila if I was a shitty father. Might’ve being the operative word.
But I‘m not.
I love my daughter with every last fiber of my being, and maybe that’s what fuels her; the fact that I love Mila more than I ever loved her. Maybe that’s why she keeps my baby girl from me, in hopes that the less I see of her, the more my love for her would burn out, giving her the opportunity to point the finger at the me and label me as the bad guy.
News flash for her if she hadn't already realized it…
That’s never going to happen.
“Was it not me that what?” Calla hedges after a silent beat.
“I said forget it. Now tell me what is so damn important you felt compelled to call me at eight in the fucking morning, on a Sunday nonetheless?”
“Did you not hear a word I said? Mila wants to talk to you.”
“And you couldn't have waited until a little later? You know I get off late as hell on Saturdays,” I grit out.
“No, I couldn't wait. Your daughter has been waiting all fucking weekend to talk to you, and I was not about to sit here and watch her pout again because you haven't been available. If waking up early to accommodate your daughter's needs is so difficult, then maybe you should think about finding, I don't know, a normal job.”
Breathe, Jag. Breathe.
“I have been available. You just chose to call a number I rarely answer to make me unavailable. Had you called my cell when she first asked, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now.”
“Yeah, well, I clicked the first number that popped up for you.”
“And when I didn't answer, you should've called the next one.”
“Whatever, Jagger.” She huffs, and I can all but see her eyes rolling from their sockets.
“Just put her on, Calla. I don't have time for your bullshit.”
“What in the actual—”
“Just put her on,” I bark, because I’ve already had enough of her.
“Fine… Mila. Mila!” she yells.
I have to grind my jaw tightly. The way she speaks to her sometimes...
A few seconds later, my daughter’s sweet little voice replaces her mother’s. “Hi, daddy.”
I smile softly. “Hi, baby girl.”
“Can you come pick me up?” The sadness laced in her query splits my heart in half.
And what hurts most is knowing I’m going to dishearten her more when I answer with, “I can’t, angel. Not today.”
“Why not,” she whines.
“Because your Mommy works tomorrow and you know she’s not going to let you spend the night.”
“But that’s not fair! I want to be with you!”
“Mila! Give me that phone,” Calla hollers angrily, stomping back into the room.
It takes everything in me not to go off when she audibly snatches the phone away from our daughter’s grasp and in turn snarls at me, “What the hell did you say to her?”
“That I couldn’t pick her up.”
“And why the fuck would you tell her that,” she hisses.
“Because you won’t allow it. It’s Sunday, remember?”
“Oh, how con
venient, right?”
“It’s not convenient when it’s the truth. You know damn well you’re not going to let me pick her up,” I counter, barely keeping myself in check with Mila clearly in tears somewhere in the background.
“Not with that nasty attitude of yours, I’m not.”
“My nasty attitude? Are you hearing yourself right now? It’s no wonder she wants to come spend time with me.”
“Fuck. You. Jagger. Just fuck you, okay? God, I can’t fucking stand you! The day Mila turns eighteen will be the best damn day of my life,” she exclaims, stomping around her apartment like the child she is.
“The feeling is mutual, Calla, trust me. I’ll call back again tonight before she goes to bed.”
“We won’t hold our breath, but okay.”
Click.
Pulling the phone from me ear, I stare at the screen in shock.
She hung up on me.
Not the first time she’s done that, but what in the actual fuck? I groan in frustration and toss my phone onto the counter, flipping on the tap to splash some water on my face. My heart races, and not in a good way. I need to calm the hell down.
But how the fuck am I supposed to do that when I know my daughter is hurting? Hell, I’m hurting, too.
Bad.
Knock, knock.
The soft sound tears my attention away from those heavy thoughts. Grabbing one of the towels within reach, I wipe my face and pull open the door to find Kat on the other side. A small smile hikes up one corner of her mouth, sleepy green eyes regarding me sympathetically.
“I need to pee,” she says by way of explanation, but I know she heard what went down, at least a portion of it.
“It’s all yours.” I peck her cheek.
She catches me by the arm, prompting me to whip my head back as I jerk to a stop. “You okay?”
“I will be, once you bring your fine ass back to bed,” I quip, because fuck do I need a distraction from all this shit right now.
“Give me two minutes.”
I hold up two fingers. “Two minutes, that’s all you get.”
Kat nods and shuts the door as I pad across the room and slide back into the bed, trailing a hand along Desi’s curves. She stirs with a hum and peeks over her shoulder.
