Sarah groaned, wondering how long she'd be able to hold back, especially as Warren's hungry tongue had begun to expertly manipulate her clit. Garrett was only intensifying her need by whispering in her ear what a nasty slut she was to need two cocks to satisfy her.
Finally, she'd had enough. She sat upright in the bed and demanded both men remove their clothes. Garrett seemed surprised but pleased by her sudden bolt of aggressiveness. He complied with her request, as did Warren, and she instructed both men to kneel on either side of her face on the bed beside her. First she took Warren's long black snake of a cock into her mouth, teasing the head with her tongue as he sighed, his hands resting on his hips, gently rocking to insert more of his manhood into her mouth.
Garrett rubbed his erection on her cheek, encouraging her to touch the swollen members together and attempt to pleasure them both simultaneously. Sarah looked to Warren for permission, not knowing how comfortable he'd be with male-male contact but he nodded approvingly, moaning deeply when his dark velvety flesh first brushed against Garrett's.
Two massive cocks and just my two small lips, she thought to herself. But when have I ever shied away from a challenge? She managed to get most of both of their heads into her mouth. She loved the feeling of pleasuring two men at the same time, feeling her lips stretch to capacity around their hardness. She had never witnessed such intentional male-male contact. She studied their faces and found both to be wanton and lustful, and not at all uncomfortable with their proximity to each other. Damn, I could get used to this, she thought, using her mouth on both men to the best of her abilities.
Finally Garrett stroked her hair back from her face and instructed her to turn over onto her knees. She complied and he entered her from behind hard and fast with no warning. She screamed at the sudden intrusion, even though it was what she had craved so desperately just moments before. Warren repositioned so that he faced her, still on his knees, and fed her his cock as Garrett grasped her hips and worked his stiff rod in and out of her pussy.
Oh yes, Sarah gasped, greedily licking at Warren's cock as Garrett's thrusts propelled her forward in uncontrollable jolts. Warren's eyes were black and narrow; he was completely consumed with desire, his need for release building with each flick of Sarah's skillful tongue.
Garrett pulled out without warning and effortlessly flipped Sarah onto her back as if she were a rag doll. "I want to watch you come for me," he said, his eyes burning into her. She'd nearly forgotten he'd dictated that she delay orgasm until permission was granted. If he hadn't stopped just then, I would have disobeyed, she realized, wondering what the consequences would have been for her infraction.
Warren climbed off the bed and stood at the edge so that his cock retained access to Sarah’s mouth. She turned her head and went back to her work, sliding her lips up and down his rock hard shaft. Garrett positioned himself between Sarah's thighs and very, very slowly slid into her wetness. He pushed to the very depth of her, causing her to cry out, half with pain, half with pleasure, and sprinkled with a good bit of frustration at the exceedingly slow pace he adopted.
"Oh god, Garrett, please? Please, I have waited long enough," she begged him.
“Not yet, baby,” he replied sweetly. He propped himself up on his wrists and continued to drill into her slowly and deliberately.
She was arching her back and bucking against him, her hands gripping his ass to try to increase the tempo. She increased her suction around Warren’s cock as if that would bring her body closer to relief. She stared into Garrett’s determined green eyes and began her pleading again: “Please, darling, please, I’m begging you. Please let me come around your cock?”
Warren withdrew and took a step back from the bed, stroking himself slowly with one of his hands. Garrett lowered himself onto her so that their flesh formed a seal between their bodies. “Almost time, just a little bit more, wait for me,” he whispered into her ear.
“I’m getting close,” Warren announced just then. “Where do you want me to come?”
Sarah looked to Garrett for the answer. “Come in her mouth,” he commanded. “And Sarah, don’t swallow.” He pulled back to give Warren better access and Sarah turned her head to receive him.
Warren took Sarah’s face into his hands and relentlessly began to pump his cock into her mouth. She was breathless and writhing, but Garrett held her down and offered her words of encouragement in a low voice: “That’s it, good girl, take that cock. Suck that cock, baby. There you go, drain his balls, baby, suck all that cum out of his cock. Get every last drop.”
Warren’s face contorted and his body violently shook as he filled Sarah’s mouth with his semen. She sputtered for a moment but as soon as Warren pulled out, Garrett lowered himself onto her again, his cock still inside her. He pressed his lips against hers. She instinctively opened her mouth and a portion of the hot, salty fluid was expelled into Garrett’s mouth, their tongues swirling it back and forth between the two of them till it was all swallowed.
As he licked his lips, he began to vigorously impale himself against Sarah. “Now, baby, now come with me!” Sarah’s hips were grinding into his pelvis, meeting each deep thrust.
“Oh my god, Garrett,” she moaned, feeling the force of her impending orgasm overwhelm her from the inside out. She closed her eyes as the first wave crashed over her, only heightened by the knowledge that the same wave was crashing over her lover simultaneously. All of the pressure that had been building for hours now was released and she felt the resulting gush leave her body and soak the sheets beneath her.
“Holy fuck,” Warren gasped as he witnessed the wet stain spreading out from Sarah’s thighs.
Garrett finally stopped trembling and opened his eyes. His lips found Sarah’s again and he kissed her softly. “That was amazing, baby,” he said.
Sarah was still too overwhelmed to speak. The three finished their recovery and redressed. Finally regaining her composure, Sarah was able to articulate her gratitude to both men for the incredible experience she’d just enjoyed. She chatted at length with Warren while Garrett went off to find hydration and sustenance for them. She wasn’t at all surprised to learn that he was in the Army, also stationed at Ft. Meade. How many more times will James be brought to mind tonight? she wondered. Even when I’m desperately trying to avoid thinking of him, he’s still there.
After exchanging phone numbers with Warren, she made her way back upstairs in search of Garrett, or Rachel and Jack. Apparently Garrett got lost or distracted looking for a post-coital snack, she determined. Her legs were still jelly-like and wobbly in her black suede boots as she made her way back into the main part of the house.
She heard the faint strains of a familiar yet haunting melody coming from the library she’d visited earlier. She traipsed gingerly down the hallway and into the room where she saw a figure silhouetted in the eerie green light. Then the clouds parted and she recognized Garrett, eyes closed, bathed in the fresh swath of pearly haze flooding through the windowpanes. His fingers were tenaciously dedicated to the task of playing “Moonlight Sonata” at the grand piano completely by memory.
This is a man of many talents, she noted, pausing in the doorway, not wanting to interrupt the moment. She wondered if he sensed her presence as his volume increased, the passion for his craft evident in the dynamics. The acting, the singing, the piano, the way he seemed to know the precise limitations of her body better than she even knew them herself, not to mention the brilliant, intellectual mind with which she had already become well-acquainted… All of it was seemed to be a present from the universe, gift-wrapped in a handsome package. This is the man sent to help me heal, she realized.
She thought about Rachel’s oft-repeated mantra: “The best way to get over a man is to get under another one.” She’d never really bought into that before, but suddenly she saw the wisdom behind it. Meeting Garrett didn’t mean that she had abandoned thoughts of James. Clearly not, as she’d continued to have flashes courtesy of the James Channel thr
oughout the evening. But it sure seemed to lessen the sting.
I feel like my heart is open again, she thought, open to possibilities I didn’t know it would be capable of again this soon. And to think, if I hadn’t joined the cast of South Pacific, I would have never met him. Who would have thought when I was singing, “Gonna wash that man right out of my hair?” I really would be?
***
Chapter Six
Father Figure
James hung up from his Skype conversation with Maggie but he felt restless and unsettled. She confessed to having dinner with Dr. Parker again after he’d asked some pointed questions, and she seemed nonchalant and unapologetic about it. “We’re just friends,” she insisted. He felt his head begin to throb as a dull ache began to brew just under the surface of his skull. Craving a distraction, he glanced at his contact list on Skype and saw green next to Sarah’s name. Immediately his face brightened.
“Hey there,” he typed into the box and awaited her response.
Three minutes passed. “Oh, hey, this is Abby using my mom’s computer,” finally came the reply. “How are you?” She flipped on the webcam and her image came into view. She was wearing a green shirt and had her hair piled on top of her head haphazardly like she’d just crawled out of bed. Even though she didn’t particularly look like her mother, James couldn’t help but remember that Sarah had worn her hair in an identical fashion when he’d Skyped with her the week before. He smirked, the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.
“Oh, hi, Abby! Good to see you! How are things in Maryland? How’s school?”
He watched her face scrunch into a smirk. Even in his brief time around her, he’d gathered that she was a bit of a cynic, or at least had a touch of teen angst going on. “Oh, you know, living the dream,” she replied sarcastically, then smiled enough to show her teeth.
“How’s your grandma and your little brother?” James continued conversationally.
“Oh, they’re fine,” she assured him. “How are things over there?” He detected concern on her face.
“Oh, you know,” he parroted her earlier retort, “living the dream.”
They both laughed. “What’s your mom up to this morning?” he questioned. He envisioned Sarah domesticating on a Sunday morning - it was early in Maryland. Perhaps folding laundry. Maybe cooking the kids a good old-fashioned breakfast. Pancakes. Sausage. Eggs.
“Oh, she’s not home yet,” Abby answered and watched the happy expression James had worn after his “living the dream” joke fade.
He was silent for a moment. “Oh, of course, it was Saturday night. Did she have a date?” Wow, guess she is moving on...I don’t know how I feel about that.
Abby looked confused for a moment as if she was trying to gauge how forthcoming she should be. Her eyes narrowed a bit, “Yeah, she is seeing this guy from the show we’re in,” she admitted, visibly anxious to see the reaction that nugget of information garnered.
He didn’t miss a beat. “That’s right, I do remember her telling me that you’ve become theater geeks!” He laughed again, erasing the signs of dismay that he’d been unable to suppress moments before. “How do you like being on stage?”
“It’s fun,” Abby replied. “I’ve made some new friends and we have fun goofing off backstage. The show is later this month. It’s really coming together!”
“Oh, good, glad to hear that,” he said. “Sure wish I could be there to see it.” The sound of his disappointment hung in the air like a dense fog.
“Well, maybe the next one, in the summer,” she offered.
“I’d like that.” He wished her well and turned off his webcam. For a second, he imagined having a daughter. He envisioned bouncing a spritely little creature with tight blonde corkscrew curls, golden skin and huge sparkling blue eyes on his knee. Maggie and I are going to have some damn cute kids, he predicted. His headache was gone.
***
Abby’s face was painted with contemplation when Sarah found her staring out the French doors to the deck. "Hey there. Did you guys have fun last night?" she questioned, causing her daughter to jump before turning around. She slowly nodded even though she didn’t appear to have absorbed her mother’s question.
"Your friends from the show came over, right? Bree and Brooke?" Sarah confirmed, picturing the two tan, blonde sisters in the cast of South Pacific. "Did you guys get any sleep? Did Grandma?"
Abby remained in a fog; she turned back to peer out the glass doors again, leaving her mother’s questions unanswered.
"What's wrong?" Sarah asked, starting to feel alarmed. "Where's Owen?"
"He and Grandma went to the farmers’ market," Abby replied, finally snapping back to the present, "and I'm fine." She stepped away from the French doors and headed toward the kitchen, her spell of captivation apparently broken. "Oh, by the way,” she added, turning to look over her shoulder, “James says hi."
Sarah felt a bolt of energy surge through her at the mere mention of his name. As always, her physical response was completely involuntary. "What?"
"I was checking my email on your laptop cause mine was dead and he popped up on Skype. I chatted with him for a bit," she replied nonchalantly as she disappeared into the next room.
Sarah heard the back door squeak open and the sound of Owen's sneakers skitter across the linoleum of the laundry room and onto the tiled kitchen floor just before an argument suddenly erupted over who had priority access to the refrigerator. She detected her mother’s voice trying to arbitrate, instructing her grandson to go finish unloading the groceries from the car. Sarah followed her firstborn into the room.
"Hi honey," Kathy brightened at seeing her daughter. "I got the loveliest peaches at the market!"
Sarah’s mind was still stuck on the previous conversation with Abby. "So what else did you and James talk about?" she asked curiously.
She shrugged. "Not much. Just told him about the show and that you have a new boyfriend," she said as if she was already bored of speaking of it.
Sarah felt the heat rise from the pit of her stomach up through her chest and neck. "Why would you tell him that?"
"Because it's true?" her daughter fired back, not without a healthy dose of snark.
Kathy laughed at her granddaughter's flippant response, at how it reminded her of a teenage Sarah. She began to meticulously pile the fruits and vegetables onto the counter into neat stacks. "I was thinking of sticking around and making a stew with these veggies and the leftover beef from the roast I cooked last night," she offered, attempting to lighten the mood. "How does that sound?"
"That sounds great, Mom, thanks," Sarah brightened. She decided to drop the conversation about James, not wanting to give into temptation to turn on the James Channel. "I could get some of that crusty Italian bread to go with it...and maybe ask Rachel and her crew to join us?" We haven't really had an opportunity to dissect last night's party, she remembered.
Abby had slipped out of the kitchen during the dinner strategizing conversation and curled up in the armchair in the living room with a paperback, her legs tucked under her bottom.
"Hey, that's my grading chair," Sarah complained upon returning to the living room, failing to disguise her exasperation.
"Can't you sit someplace else?" Abby rolled her eyes, her trademark move. "I'm comfortable."
"I'll give you 30 minutes and then I'm sitting there to grade," Sarah compromised, starting to clear the coffee table of dishes left from the night before. "And you and your friends really should have cleaned this place up."
Abby glanced up from her book as if her mother’s admonishment naturally led to the following question: "Mom, are you going to let Owen go to Colorado for Christmas?"
Instead of the burning sensation rising to the surface of her skin like she felt when James was mentioned, the thought of Owen's father, Daniel Taylor, caused a whirlpool of nausea to swirl in her stomach instead. "I really haven't decided about that yet," she claimed. Not entirely true, she chided herself for lying. Sh
e’d been thinking about it a lot, but not to the point of being able to commit to a decision.
Abby looked down at her legs and shifted, pulling her left foot into her lap. The turquoise polish on her toenails was chipped. She wore a silver toe ring with a little skull carved into it which she twisted between her fingers as she sighed.
Sarah recognized her daughter’s signals for wanting to talk. She sat down on the sofa and put one hand on Abby’s knee. "What's on your mind?"
Abby's blue-green eyes hazed over with time and distance, lost in purgatory while their owner decided whether or not to verbalize the thoughts stirring in her mind. Sarah could tell by watching her that it was going to be something she wouldn't like.
"I want to find my father," Abby finally stated plainly, in a bolder voice than her mother anticipated.
No mincing words, I guess. No, my daughter is learning to be blunt like the generations of Lynde women that came before her, the one attribute that could make her a heroine or pariah, depending on who is on the receiving end, Sarah thought. She processed it for several moments before attempting to formulate a response.
First, the obvious, and not just a delay tactic: "Why?" Leave it to the Sociology professor to first want to understand the motives, Sarah mused.
"I'm sixteen," Abby stated. "I need to know where I came from. I only have half the picture." She straightened her spine, suddenly looking thoughtful and wise. "And no, it's not to make him feel guilty for not wanting to be in my life. I'm sure he had his reasons. I just want to know who he is. What kind of man he is."
Sarah was still in processing mode. How can I deny her that? Knowing her genetic and cultural heritage. She fought that nauseated feeling from rising up her esophagus. But at what risk?
The Mountains Trilogy (Boxed Set) Page 42
