It was thicker than she expected, and heavy. She stroked rhythmically, slipping his foreskin up and down along the length. She squeezed and released. Moved fast and hard, then more softly, mixing up each touch and stroke, to stretch out the moment.
Hoping she could remain standing without clinging to his shoulders, she slid her other hand down his torso and along his groin before cupping his balls. They were tight and tucked. He was primed and young enough to come over and over tonight.
Stroking his cock fast while she lifted and pressed his balls would have him exploding in no time. Then she would lick his cock clean, lick his stomach and hips, along his chest. She could rub his semen into her skin, benefitting from his youthfulness. She began a faster, unrelenting rhythm.
Her nipple was held tight between his lips. He stretched it, tugging gently and not so gently, before it popped free. Her head jerked backward and she cried out his name. A strangled call of passion. She was so close, so quickly. His hand moved against her cunt, cupping her tighter. More heat. More pressure. Her body was rigid as he caught her as yet unattended to nipple between his lips and sucked hard and fast.
When she was expecting him to explode, she did. She felt like a guitar string drawn out then released as it was perfectly plucked. Her body, which was stretched tight, soared. Catapulted into oblivion. She heard the sharp yelp in the distance, a voice so like her own. She heard the muffled scream of “Tom” before his lips landed on hers and demanded her attention. She could hardly give it. She was soaring. Pounding waves of pleasure filled her. The suction on her nipples and the heat of his hand drew her orgasm out for longer than was warranted.
God, he’d only sucked her tit.
As she slid back to earth, warm stickiness coated her hand and hip. When he unfurled her fist from his cock, she realised how tightly she’d throttled it. He was gasping as hard as she was. He’d gone with her.
“Gee. What was that?” Her breathless comment floated out as she rubbed the remains of his semen into her hip and across her stomach. She believed in the restorative powers of young jism—it firmed and tightened her skin.
The look he gave her was as if she’d chastised rather than complimented him. Although, maybe he didn’t realise… she placed her hand flat against his chest. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s got me off that quickly. You have magic, young Tom.”
The red stain creeping up his face was sweet, but the look of wonder in his eyes made her wet again. Years ago she’d vowed to leave these boys with more confidence than when she discovered them. It was the gift she was given at the start of her career and she’d relished it. Confidence stood you in good stead all your life.
When she stepped away from him to head to the bathroom, her gaze was caught again by the shadow on his hip. Her hand reached out to trace across the intricate design but stalled on the male name inside: Charles.
“My dad.” Tom answered her unasked question quietly. “He died when I was a kid.”
She nodded, tracing the letters. “I’m sorry—”
He cut her off with a finger drawn across her lips. “Talk about something else.”
She asked him about sport. He played rugby at the uni and was almost as passionate about that as architecture. He was the winger, he had a great sidestep and good pace. He was the leading try scorer last season, and their goal kicker.
They chatted easily while they showered in her bathroom waterfall. As the water cascaded, they touched and moved against one another in the way of established lovers, not newfound ones. Tom had a natural confidence once his mind was engaged in something other than worry, and she could keep his mind active.
“What’s your fantasy, Tom?” Her question drew a smile from him. A slow, seductive smile that made her toes wriggle.
“I’d like to keep exploring you. I’d love to eat you out. I’m dying for you to ride me. And I’ve heard you give incredible blow jobs.” He stopped suddenly and stared at her. “Oh, God, is that too much?”
She laughed, a deep husky sound that vibrated from deep inside. She turned off the water, handed him a towel and grabbed one for herself. “There can never be too much.” And that’s why she loved young men; they were always ready for more.
He chuckled but it was muffled in the towel that he hastily rubbed over his head and shoulders. Unconcerned about the huge puddle developing on the marble floor, he wrapped the towel around his waist and looked at her.
“What’s your fantasy, Lana, or have you lived them all by now?”
She swatted him with the end of her towel. “I hope I never live all my fantasies. Imagine life without them.” She shuddered. Fantasies were what kept you young and alive. “I like the sound of yours. I think we should work at making them happen.” Leaning against him and peppering his lips with kisses, she added, “Starting right about now.”
In the morning, after a night of acting out Tom’s fantasies, he stopped in the lounge room and turned to her, one finger reaching to caress her cheek. “You never told me your fantasy.”
She chuckled. “We could never have done it, so don’t worry.”
“Why couldn’t we have done it?” His indignation almost made her laugh, but she didn’t want to crush him. He was too gorgeous for that. Young, polite, impossibly handsome, eager to please and be pleased. There wasn’t too much wrong with Tom.
“There was only one of you.”
“You’d want two of me?”
She chuckled. “Three, darling, I’d want three of you. One for each hole and enough jism to coat every inch of my skin.”
At first she thought he would die of embarrassment, then that he might suffocate, but finally he caught a breath and the blush faded. He brought his fingers to her cheek and brushed them toward her mouth.
“You say it to shock me, don’t you?” He sounded petulant, and she didn’t want him leaving like that.
“No. You asked me. I thought you wanted the truth. You’re man enough for the truth. You’re open-minded and I thought you could handle it.”
His brow furrowed. It seemed to take him a long time to process her words. “Are you serious?”
“Always.” She touched her lips against his.
“Are you busy next Saturday night?”
She shook her head. “I’m not after a relationship or dates. I thought you understood that.”
He smiled, easily, as he shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. You spent all night making my every fantasy come true. I wanted to repay the favour.”
She laughed before kissing him gently. “Last night was not just for you. I enjoyed it too. You don’t owe me anything.”
He grinned and took one last deep, drugging kiss. “I’ll let myself out. Thank you for an incredible night.”
She watched him walk away with a swagger in his step that wasn’t there yesterday. She’d succeeded. Another boy was leaving with his bedroom skills enhanced and honed. How she loved life.
It was a muffled voice that broke her reverie, shouted as he left the apartment. “See you Saturday.”
She laughed. Tom had been splendid.
Through a week of her usual regime of gym, beautician, manicurist, hairdresser, colourist, and reading scripts from her agent, she occasionally drifted off to fantasise about Tom and two of his friends. It was a superb fantasy, but three friends sharing? It wasn’t possible. Not even with young men.
Lunches, dinners and charity work rounded out her week. On Saturday night she was back at her usual haunt, Edesia, this time to keep Nella company at a business dinner. She hoped Tom wasn’t rostered to work. Thoughts of him had tormented her all week, she didn’t need the extra tension of having him in close proximity.
He was there as she walked in.
Although he was here, and it was Saturday, it meant nothing. Saturdays at Edesia were busy and Meagan would need her best staff. “Good evening, Tom. How are you? I’m with the Pouache party tonight.” She smiled. She was a grown-up. There were never going to be three men capable o
f sharing her.
“This way, Lana. I’m well, thank you. I hope you’ve had a good week.” He was polite, not quite distant, and she loved his attitude. Some of the previous fellows had been gauche, uncomfortable or fawning. She really must recommend him to a friend. Tom would be an asset to his architectural business, not only for his passion but also his social skills.
He led her through the restaurant to where the large table was set. She gave Nella a tiny finger wave and blew a kiss. “I’m not late, am I?” She knew she wasn’t but was surprised her friend and her husband, Michael, were here before her, but then they were sticklers for time.
“No, no. We wanted to greet the guests as they arrived.” Nella’s reassurance was a relief. Lana had kept her waiting once, when they were teenagers, and she never had again. “Come, sit next to me,” Nella invited.
She moved to the chair next to her. Seated together they could chat and not disturb the men. As Tom seated her, he leaned close to her ear. “I have a posse to walk you home this evening.”
She gasped and jumped. She knew no one could have possibly heard him, so that wasn’t what shocked her. It was disbelief. When she met his gaze there was amusement and excitement. Oh dear God. It was happening.
“Are you all right?” Nella asked. She was a dear. Not only one of the social set but a true friend. One of the few people who knew of her beginnings and never held it against her.
Lana spun back to the table and slipped her hand over her friend’s. “Yes. Sorry. I thought I put my chair on Tom’s foot.” It was a stupid excuse but all she could think of in a hurry.
From Nella’s laughter, she knew she hadn’t gotten away with the lie, but no one knew the truth except the young man moving her chair in as she sat. Who draped her serviette with only the briefest brush against her body. Brief but not hesitant. It was the touch of a man exuding sexual confidence. A man capable of finding discreet friends. A man capable of fulfilling a fantasy. God, she’d never make it through dinner. It was sadly lacking Tom, naked, and his two naked friends.
Three young, thick, hard cocks.
She shuddered and tried to conceal it, unsuccessfully.
“Are you cold?” Nella asked.
She shook her head. “No. I’m just stupid.”
Nella peered at her closely. “Good lord, Lana, you haven’t fallen for one of your boys?”
She was stunned. The thought had never entered her head. Why would Nella think something like that?
Before she could say anything, a small smile crossed her friend’s face. “Oh, thank goodness. You were acting so strangely, it was all I could think of.”
She gave a chuckle. Her facial expression must have told Nella she was far from right. “I just have things on my mind. I know it’s not like me to be distracted, but I’ll be fine. Promise.”
“It’s not the dinner on Thursday?”
“No. I’ve got that organised.” She beamed, even knowing Nella wouldn’t be convinced by just a smile, no matter how good.
The energy in the room was electric as Lana led the three boys into her apartment. Tom had introduced her to Ben and David, fellow uni students and waiters, outside the restaurant, after Nella, Michael and their party had left. The walk home was utter hell. She had never known such a state of need, anticipation and excitement. She could hardly walk in her heels. It was like opening night, plus the longest wait for the most gorgeous boy to orgasm. It was the promise of fulfilment and the terror of failing. It was...how every boy must feel coming home with her.
Ben, with his blond tousled hair and angular face, walked straight to the view. “Shit. You didn’t say this place looked like this. What a fabulous use of glass and metal.”
“You’re worried about the view out there, when we have Lana?” David’s slick comeback made her inwardly preen. His swarthiness and deep voice gave him an intense and somewhat wicked appearance. She knew why these two boys worked well together—they were opposites, not only in looks but manner as well.
“Sorry.” Ben spoke softly as he turned to face her. “You have a gorgeous apartment. Thank you for inviting us over.”
She laughed softly. “It’s not me you should be thanking.” She ran her fingernails along Tom’s forearm. Gold and gemstones glistened in the low lamplight. “Tom needs to take the credit for this evening.” She leaned close and captured his lips before he could protest. Their kiss began as a gentle meeting of lips, but deepened as she skimmed her hands along his arms and back, before capturing his buttocks. She rubbed against his cock, not surprised to find it hard already. His murmurs of pleasure only encouraged her and, it seemed, the other two boys.
They hadn’t made it beyond the lounge room, but she didn’t care. Within moments of the kiss initiating, one of them had his hand against her nape. Fingers stroked the sensitive flesh, tracing random designs, until she had prickles running along her spine. She couldn’t break from Tom’s kiss, but didn’t need to. Within seconds, another hand held the top of her dress, while fingers splayed through her hair. There was a tiny fumble for her zipper and then it slid right along her backbone, just behind the goose bumps.
Her hands were captured in a strong grip that made her knees weaken, then her arms were brought to her side. She was at the mercy of these boys. Two of them she didn’t really know. Her breath quickened and her heart pounded like it wanted to escape. She tore her lips from Tom, ready to run, but his gaze met hers. His blue eyes were dark with lust, but there was honour and integrity in the depths. She’d believed in him before. If she could believe in him now, she could experience something she’d always wanted. She had to trust him…just as he’d trusted her last week.
Her breath slowed. The panic passed. She maintained Tom’s stare as her dress was pushed down by rough hands. If she had to guess, she’d say the dark David.
Tom cupped her breasts and his lips went straight for her beaded nipples.
“Don’t forget to share, Tom.” Ben’s blond head dipped beside Tom’s dark curls and both mouths worked on her. Exquisite didn’t come close to describing the feeling of two hungry mouths sucking on her breasts. Four big hands holding and kneading.
“Aaaahhhh.” The sound was part shock, part arousal. A third pair of hands landed on her hips. She’d temporarily forgotten that David was behind her. His fingers hooked roughly in the top of her thong, hot palms against her buttocks.
“Lift your feet, Lana, so I can get you out of this dress.” David’s voice was deeper, thicker, more of a growl than words. She did as he asked, mostly because he held each ankle and knee as he assisted her movement. His lips skimmed along the inside of her thighs, at the same time as Ben and Tom were at her breasts. With these distractions, she had few brain cells available to do complicated manoeuvres like stepping out of a dress.
Those occupied brain cells also meant she didn’t notice David take off her G-string. His hot mouth on her bare cunt startled her. She felt like she’d jumped three feet off the ground but she couldn’t have moved, pinned as she was by so many hands. Thank goodness for those hands holding her upright. The guttural cry as his lips closed around her labia was whisked away as her breath caught in her throat.
“Fuck, she’s wet.” Lana wasn’t sure why David would be surprised but his deep growling voice sounded like it had a bit of a lift to it, or a slight crack in it. She wasn’t sure. She could hardly think as Tom licked his way from her breast to her neck, and Ben’s tongue slicked towards her navel. They’d rid themselves of their clothes, and she may have helped, she didn’t know. One moment they were overdressed, the next second three naked men were rubbing against her flesh.
Hands and mouths moved on her. Hard cocks pressed against her body as they shifted. It was beyond arousing. Male groans and grunts punctuated her sighs and murmurs. These guys made her skin incredibly sensitive; she imagined she could feel every whorl on each fingertip as they caressed.
“All okay?” Tom asked as he pressed kisses to her jaw, lips, cheeks, eyes, nose and fore
head. His cock rubbed and bumped against her outer thigh as he moved. She murmured a response that she hoped he would decipher as a ‘yes’. She wasn’t sure it sounded like English.
David moved beneath her, his hands spreading her buttocks, his mouth slipping from her clit and lips to darker places. Her body was like a volcano, steaming inside, burning with need, threatening to burst. Then fingers caught her thighs. Ben. He held her legs open and feasted on her soaking cunt. “She tastes so good.” His words came between slurping. She should have been embarrassed by the sounds, the slickness, her reactions, but it only heightened her pleasure. The guys were enjoying this as much as she was, they had to be.
Lana had never imagined the hundredfold increases in sensation—where six hands felt like six hundred, three mouths, three tongues like three hundred.
“She’s going to ride my cock so fucking hard.” Ben’s voice was more gravelly, but still a few octaves higher than David’s. She could probably drown Ben while thinking of his cock inside her. All their cocks inside her.
“Condoms,” she managed to say between shudders of pleasure. Hoping they might understand what she meant.
“Yep. On the table. We’ve got them, Lana.” Tom’s words. Gentle and reassuring.
She’d left condoms and lube here, and in each bedroom. Ever hopeful, and erring on the safe side, rather than being sorry later. She was always being told she lived a risky lifestyle but she took care of herself.
“I’m right.” Ben’s words made no sense to her until she was manoeuvred by Tom and David towards the lounge. Ben was naked, bar the condom, and sprawled along the leather couch with his cock standing straight above lean hips. She went to curl her hand around the latex but a growl from behind made her pause.
“Fucking get on. He’ll shoot his load if you wait too long, and I want to be inside your arse before he does.” David’s rough voice grated. So crude. So uncouth. So bloody arousing. It was not just her cunt pounding now. Her arse was throbbing too. Tightening and pulsing.
Secret Confessions: Sydney Housewives - Extended Edition Page 7
