“Now,” Caleb breathes, giving me another earnest, bearded kiss, “are you ready for all of it?”
Chapter Eight
Caleb
Ireland arches into my kiss, smiling into my mouth. “Yes,” she says happily. Excitedly. “All of it.”
I touch her again because I want to. I have to. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop. Her breath hitches when I run my fingertips over her belly, and I glance up at her face. She has her eyes closed now, as if she’s steeling herself for something. For my touch.
“Now that just won’t do,” Ben says silkily from above both of us. “Open your eyes, Ireland. Watch Caleb touch you.”
She blinks up at him and then over to me, her breath still stilted and her face uncertain. But she nods. “Okay.” She swallows. “Okay. Touch me.”
So I do. I touch the pale skin where the underside of her breast meets her chest. I trace down the slopes that lead to the sides of her waist. I stroke up to the middle and circle her navel, sunk like a deep well into her body, and then I move down to her lower belly with its gentle swell. And then—fuck—that plump pussy, the first time I’ve touched it. My cock jerks up as my fingers press into the giving flesh, and I groan, dropping my head onto her shoulder. She’s even better than those paintings, better than anything a teenage Caleb could have imagined. I roll my head down and start kissing a trail down her belly, nudging Ben aside so I can settle between her legs and kiss at her stomach more easily.
She gasps at every kiss, trying to shy away, but I don’t let her. I don’t let her roll to the side or try to cover herself. I kiss her belly button and the crease of the place where her thighs meet her hips. And soon I have my mouth where I want it: kissing along her secret silk curls to her pussy. Pressing my lips to the coy little seam hiding underneath.
It’s everything I can do to tease her like this, to keep my mouth soft and easy and almost chaste as I kiss the top of her mound and then at the sensitive skin on the outside of her cunt, where her thighs join to her body.
Because all I want to do is taste what’s mine.
I want to part her pussy and revel in all the sweet heat there, all the slick wetness that Ben and I have made, and I want to feel the slick, tight channel my cock is about to fuck. I want to feel the new place I’ll call home.
And even though I already knew, her pretty little gasps and stirs as I finally kiss her clit make it clear: this is for real. Which means one night won’t be enough by far.
The thought sends a surge of possessive lust bolting through me. I seal my mouth over her swollen bud in a savage suck that makes her cry out and has Ben giving a low hum of approval. Using my thumbs, I spread her open like the world’s best butterfly, pinning her lips apart so I can explore her. Her delicate inner folds and the tight hole tucked up inside them, all of it glistening in the dim light. Even like this, I can tell she’ll be the prettiest shade of pink inside here, the kind of pink a man dreams about when he’s got nothing but cold sheets next to him and a shameful fist.
I tongue and lick at her, like a boy with a county fair ice cream cone, trying to lick it fast before it melts in the sun. And Ireland is indeed melting, all of her shyness from earlier completely vanishing as her hands wind through my hair. Her thighs are warm and restless, pressing against me when she rubs my back with her feet, splaying open when she braces against the bed and tries to push her pussy against my face.
“He’s good at that, isn’t he?” comes Ben’s voice. It’s low and coaxing and just the tiniest bit cruel—it’s sin incarnate. I grind my cock into the bed at the sound of it.
Ben’s always been able to do that to me. Stir me up more, make me crazy, just with his words. And knowing that soon he’ll be talking like this while I’m pumping away between Ireland’s legs, well…it makes it hard for a man to be patient. I roll my hips against the quilt as Ben keeps talking over Ireland’s whimpers.
“He likes that cunt of yours, I can tell,” Ben remarks. “I can see the muscles in his ass flexing, and you know why? Because he’s fucking the bed, he’s that turned on. That turned on just from tasting you.”
“Oh,” Ireland breathes out. Her thighs are tensing and her belly too, and she’s getting close. So close.
Ben notices, of course. “You’re going to come, aren’t you? Because it’s just so good to have his mouth there making you feel good? Can you feel his beard when he kisses you? You’ll be feeling it tomorrow too, you know. You’ll be Caleb’s beard-burned little slut. Walking around in your pretty skirts with your pussy still swollen and marked up by him.”
“Oh God,” Ireland chokes out, falling total prey to Ben’s words and writhing against my busy mouth. “Oh my God.”
“You like that?” Ben probes, leaning down to run his nose along her pert chin and the apple of her cheek. “You want to be Caleb’s little slut?”
“I—both of yours,” she gasps.
“My slut too?”
“Yes,” she moans.
“Then be a good slut and come for Caleb. His cock is full of come to give you, but it needs you wet and tight, doesn’t it?”
Aw, shit. I’m practically boring a hole into this mattress I’m so fucking worked up now, and between Ben’s words and Ireland’s sweet pussy trembling against the flat of my tongue, I’m not sure if I’ll even make it to fucking her.
“Answer me, Ireland,” Ben says sternly.
I look up over the rise of Ireland’s curls to see that she’s cresting now, her entire body a tensed stretch of quivering curves.
“Doesn’t it?” Ben demands again, reaching out and collaring her throat with a hand to turn her face to his. And that’s all it takes—the combination of his filthy words and his hand at her throat and my devouring her pussy like I’ll never get to taste a woman ever again—and she’s right there, tipping over the edge.
“Yes,” she says in a cry, and then she releases against my lips, coming with a final small slick of sweetness and a helpless arch of her back. I’m too far gone to stop eating her, though, lost to the taste of her and the feel of her on my lips, and it’s Ben who pulls me away from her pussy by the nape of my neck.
“Look at what you’ve done,” Ben says to our girl as I reluctantly rise to my knees. He runs a hand along Ireland’s thigh, and she shudders under his touch, her body still visibly trembling with the aftershocks. “Look at poor Caleb. Look at how much he needs you.”
The three of us look down at my cock, which is enormous right now, standing out from my hips in a hard, angry jut. I feel an uncommon surge of pride about how big I am, and it only surges more when Ireland’s eyes widen ever so slightly as she takes in my size.
“Big,” she gets out in a throaty voice. “So big.”
“It’s for you, baby,” I say, giving myself a rough, helpless stroke from root to tip. “All for you.”
Ben presses a condom in my hand, and I find my hands are shaking as I tear it open. Maybe I came earlier in the barn, but that feels like another life, another world. The tough, familiar fuck of my fist can’t compare to even the promise of Ireland’s body, so slick and soft and tight. It’s like I’ve never come before, never in my whole life, that’s how fucking keyed up I am as I finally get the condom pinched and rolling over my engorged shaft. That’s how full my sack feels as I finally move between Ireland’s legs, like I’ve got a lifetime of semen saved up just for her.
Even in the dark, I see that smile of hers that hurts my heart—the rueful one that means she’s holding something back. That she’s telling herself not to do or say something, and it makes me urgent to help her let go. To turn that troubled smile into a real one, into a smile that only knows pleasure and happiness.
Ben catches it too and slants me a look. He doesn’t have to say anything, but we both know I’m better at this than he is. I’ve been practicing with him for years, after all.
“Tell us, peach,” I say. I sit back on my heels between her legs, and Ben does the same at her side, the head of his coc
k still wedged out from his jeans but his body completely still.
She blinks in bemusement, her eyes still glazed with lust and post-climax bliss. “Tell you what?”
“You wanted to say or do something, but then you stopped. What was it?” I keep my voice warm, keep my hands to myself, even though in this position I can see the opened petals of her pussy waiting for me and my fingers are flexing with the urge to trace her secrets.
Her cheeks darken. “Oh. It’s…it’s nothing. Just me being silly.”
“Nothing’s silly to us,” I assure her.
“I—” She bites her lip, and it’s so fucking adorable and sexy I want to die. “I was just thinking about how I wanted to grab you and yank you down to me. Like pull you on top of me and just make you fuck me across the bed.” She gives a little laugh. “And then I realized that would probably look too eager. Maybe even desperate.”
I growl and lunge forward, sealing off her words with a hot kiss. “I’m the desperate one,” I grate out against her mouth. “I’m the one who’s too eager. I’m about to come inside this condom without even going inside you.”
“Grab him,” Ben says. “Use him. He likes being used, don’t you, Caleb?”
I grunt in response, too busy kissing her to search for words, and she huffs out a little laugh against my lips. “So it’s not too embarrassing if I want you that badly?”
Her voice is shy, and I pull up a little to search her face. “How could you even think such a thing?” I ask. “The only one about to be embarrassed is me because I’m not going to last longer than two thrusts inside you.”
Her eyes shine up at me, and finally I get the smile I was hoping for—brave, bold, free. “Let’s find out,” she says, her hands trailing down my stomach to my hips. She grabs at my ass, and I’m done for. Done waiting, done holding on, done with everything that isn’t fucking her until the bed falls apart. I dig my fingers into her hip to hold her steady, and then I wedge inside with one heavy, forceful shove.
And fuck me, she is even tighter and hotter than I ever could have dreamed. The squeeze at my head only grows more excruciating the deeper I push, until all of me is being clenched by her hot, silky grip.
She arches at the invasion, but I don’t let up until I’ve got her seated on the full length of my dick and I can feel the intimate kiss of her pussy against my root. I keep my left hand at her hip, the right planted by her head, and I lean forward to give her another quick kiss and check in. “Doing okay?” I ask. I can hear how tightly strung my words are, and it’s because my entire body feels like a rope that’s about to snap. I have to fuck, I have to thrust, but I keep myself rigid and still until I know she’s good. Until I know she wants to keep going.
She gives me a breathless nod. “More,” she chokes out. “More now.”
It’s the only thing my body seems to remember how to do. I give an experimental pump, which makes her cry out, and then I can’t wait any longer. I need more of those cries, more of her tits bouncing with every movement, more of her body giving and yielding under mine. I drive into her with a flurry of raw and hungry strokes, craving more and more and more, needing to fuck and fuck and fuck.
“Oh God,” she manages, her hands flying up to brace herself against the headboard. “Oh fuck. Yes, yes, yes.”
Ben is nearing his breaking point. His hand comes up to grip the headboard hard, and his chest is heaving under his T-shirt as he watches me plow into my peach. As he watches her moan and writhe under me.
“Ben.” She whispers his name, looking up at him, and he looks down at her with an expression that might look buttoned up tight but I know is anything but. His buttons are unbuttoning, and his control is getting loose and hot, and I haven’t seen it happen in so long, and even then I’ve never seen him quite like this. Never this close to wild, never so primitive that I think he might break the furniture.
With a low curse, he grabs his cock and feeds the tip of it into her mouth. “Just the head,” he grinds out. “Suck on the head.”
Ireland eagerly complies, craning her neck to accommodate him, and I ease up on the pace so she can suck his dick more easily. All the kissing and all the rain has exposed the natural berry-pink color of her lips, but I wonder as I fuck her if she’s got any more of that pretty purple lipstick with her. I wouldn’t mind seeing it on Ben’s cock…or my own.
Wouldn’t mind it at all, in fact.
Ben keeps his fist wrapped around his length, only allowing Ireland access to his tip, and he mutters instructions to her. “Suck harder. Swirl your tongue and lick the slit—yes, just like that. You’re such a good girl.”
With a groan, I speed up again, hardly able to stand it. How fucking sexy the two of them look like this, how fucking beautiful Ireland is, how fucking good she feels around me. How much I want this to last forever and ever. How much I want to keep her.
Ireland moans around Ben’s crown as I screw her harder, and I bend down to suck at one of her pert nipples and then the other, noticing how she moans even more as my beard scratches along the sweet curves of her tits.
“I love that you love my beard, baby doll,” I say. “Is it the pain? Is it being marked by me?”
Ben slides himself from her mouth, waiting for her to answer.
“I don’t know,” she pants out. “Both? Both. Just…more. More now.”
More seems to be Ireland’s new favorite word, and I vow again I’m going to marry this woman as I bite at her breasts and she whimpers more. As Ben feeds her his cock and more is what she exhales when he finally lets her come up for air. And more is the final word she cries out before she comes again, contracting down so hard around my cock that I have to fight to keep myself inside her as she rides it out on me.
Sated, she eventually stills underneath me.
“One more,” I say, giving her favorite word back to her. “Give us one more.”
“I can’t,” she pleads, but I can still feel her body responding to my own deep inside her.
“You can,” Ben growls. I move my hand from her hip to her clit, giving her grinding circles that bulldoze past her I can’ts. She’s moaning again, loudly, even around the cock Ben keeps pushing in her mouth, and then he says, “Suck it, sweetheart. Hard as you can.”
The hand on his cock clenches as tight as the hand on the headboard, and I see the minute he hits the point of no return, the moment he finally releases. His entire body tenses, and he gives a low grunt, still aiming himself down Ireland’s throat and giving her every single bit of it, visibly pulsing in his hand, and Ireland works hard to swallow it as fast as he gives it to her. And I think she and I are both so helpless in the face of his rigid pleasure, with his locked jaw and fluttering eyes and massive, throbbing cock finally getting what it needs. She swallows his last gifts to her and then comes again uttering his name, and then mine, and then God’s.
I’m like a freight train, barreling into her deep and fast, a near roar ripping from my throat as I finally fill that condom all the way the fuck up, still pumping the whole time through. I can feel it in my thighs and deep in my balls and all the way up my stomach, and still I throb into the condom as the last of her orgasm pulls every single drop out of me and closer to her.
And then it’s finished. We gradually catch our breaths, unraveling into an obliterated kind of quiet, where there’s only the storm outside and our still-rough breathing.
Ireland reaches up for me with one hand, the other resting limply on Ben’s thigh. And then our amazing girl laughs. Laughs and laughs like she’s just gotten off the best roller coaster of her life and she can’t wait to get on again.
And I think Ben and I might be able to help her with that.
Chapter Nine
Ireland
We fuck again. And this time, Ben flips me over onto all fours and slides his huge cock into me from behind while Caleb fists a hand in my hair and guides me all around his cock. Unlike Ben, Caleb wants my mouth everywhere—every crease and groove and needy inch—and
also unlike Ben, Caleb has almost zero control over his own reactions as I suckle at him. He groans my name like a prayer, his hand trembles in my hair, and even his thighs shake as I tend to his cock.
Behind me, Ben is a force of nature. Like the storm outside but potentially more destructive. He fucks me like he wants to split me in half, like if he fucks me hard enough, he can break me open and eat my heart. And I’ll be damned if it isn’t tearing me apart with how much I like it.
I’ve never had sex like this before, sex like my lover’s life depends on it, and that’s how both men fuck in their different ways. Caleb with the mindless need of a caveman; Ben with the cold grace of a predator. Between the two of them, I’m going to set a world record for number of orgasms in one night.
Between the two of them, I feel like the sexiest woman in the world.
Again, Ben comes with stillness and a quiet, nearly regretful grunt, and Caleb comes loud with hips bucking and hands grabbing. I smile when I think about those hands earlier today. About how they seemed so restless by his sides, flexing and twitching. He clearly likes having someone to claim and grab, and tonight that someone is me, and I couldn’t be happier. After we get cleaned up and tumble back into bed, he spoons me from behind and palms a breast with one hand and my cunt with another, not to start another round of sex but with a firm kind of possessiveness, as if to say these are mine.
I love it. I try not to think about how much I love it, and I definitely try not to think about how tomorrow is going to bring the harsh blear of reality over all of this. The tawdriness of taking two men to bed—even though I feel nothing but sheer contentment and a smug kind of feminine pride right now.
I wonder how the men will feel tomorrow. Politely indifferent? Trying to get me out the door as fast as possible before I get any wild romantic notions in my head?
Or, worst of all, embarrassed? For sleeping with me?
Misadventures of a Curvy Girl Page 7
