by Shae Banks
And with Thom’s hands sliding up my ribs and around to cup my breasts, I discovered my mind was a filthy slut.
“I think we should start again,” Thom murmured, squeezing my tits. “I’m behind and want to experience all of her.”
Ryan grinned, leaning in to kiss me again. “That sound good, Lyla?”
I wanted to tell him that sounded amazing, that they could do whatever the hell they liked with me, but my voice had disappeared. Instead, I nodded, and upon seeing my ready agreement, Ryan kissed me hard. He was aggressive, forceful, pressing into me with so much force Thom’s frame was all that stopped me from shifting backward. The scent of Ryan’s body wash was consuming, and the feel of his hand on my head, his fingers tangling in my hair, was a stark reminder of the way he kissed me in front of Thom.
My arousal throbbed, the aching absence of a cock to clench around almost painful. Ryan could and would give me everything I needed. Everything I’d been denied for close to a decade.
My racing thoughts screeched to a halt as Thom moved on from my tits. One hand moved down, beneath the band of my pants, running over the silky material of my underwear.
“Fuck,” he cursed in a breathy laugh, as he pushed the material aside to trace the length of my wet slit. My breath caught as he brushed my clit, and I almost groaned in frustration when I realised he was taking his hand away.
Ryan stopped kissing me and tilted his head, and I watched Thom raise his fingers to Ryan’s mouth.
With no hesitation, Ryan took them and swirled his tongue around Thom’s digits before sucking them clean of my arousal, then took a step back, saying, “Try her.”
Soft kisses on my neck made my knees weak. My heart rate increased with the feeling of fingers at the waist of my pants, and as he slid them down, kissing my shoulder, he murmured, “Can I taste you, Lyla?”
The words were trapped in my head. I wanted them. I wanted all they had to give me, no holds barred, but the words just wouldn’t come.
“Lyla?” Thom questioned, as he began sliding my pants down my legs, his hands warm and steady as he guided them towards the floor.
Ryan was watching me intently, the towel still barely clinging to his hips. “You should probably answer him,” he murmured, wetting his lips. “Don’t want him to get the wrong idea and back off.”
The thought of him stopping was enough to rouse me. Kicking off my sliders and stepping clear of my pants, I turned to look down at Thom.
He was the definition of perfection. Blond hair, stunning blue eyes, tanned and toned, he knelt before me and smiled. “I won’t ask again.”
“You don’t have to ask,” I replied, with a small tremor in my voice. “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t have stayed.”
“We’ll ask until we know you well enough to tell just by glancing, sweetheart,” Ryan growled low in my ear, and pressed himself up against my back.
He’d ditched the towel.
Taking me by the hips, he pulled me back three steps and pushed his knee between my legs. I parted them—just shoulder width—while Thom watched expectantly, but didn’t move forward until Ryan stated, “Lyla, you’re overdressed. How can he tongue fuck you if he can’t get to you?”
My stomach clenched. I’d never heard anyone talk like that in my life. I didn’t think they really did.
Thom’s hands skimmed my thighs, up my hips to the waist of my panties, and I was kind of relieved I’d worn the feminine shorts, and not the comic ones I’d wear on occasion.
Hooking his thumbs under the band, he started to guide them down, following their progress with his mouth.
His rough chin and soft lips left a trail of goosebumps behind. My panties were halfway over my buttocks when a memory flashed into my mind.
Why Francis sprang into my thoughts at that moment was a mystery, but I felt the shame colour my cheeks exactly as it had the first time I’d experienced it.
It doesn’t matter how you dress it up, Lyla, a pig is still a pig.
I slapped my hands down over his and he stopped immediately, allowing me to tug the material back up before covering my chest with one arm.
“What’s wrong?” Thom asked immediately. The concern in his voice surprised me, but it didn’t suppress my need to cover my body and hide from them.
Ryan took his hands away, but I kept my eyes on Thom and shook my head.
The sting of tears stopped me from replying, and I shook my head again. The words wouldn’t have spilled from my mouth, even if I was capable of spitting them out. How do you tell two sculpted-like-gods men something like that?
Thom remained on his knees, watching me.
Ryan moved to the right, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Lyla, did I do something wrong?”
I shook my head. “No, no. It’s not you. I’m sorry, I—”
His fingers brushed my arm and I flinched at the contact.
There was frustration in his sigh, but it didn’t match the sadness in Thom’s expression.
“Whatever he said, he’s wrong,” Thom said softly, rising gracefully to his feet and stepping towards me. “I have a good idea what it was, you said it yourself yesterday, and believe me when I say that’s not what we think when we look at you, touch you. We wouldn’t be here if we did. You wouldn’t be here if you really believed we did, and you certainly wouldn’t have come this far.”
His voice changed as he spoke, from gentle and coaxing to firm and assertive, as he took my right hand and guided my arm from my body.
“We want you, Lyla. You. Not the idea of you, or the chance of you, or the prize of having had you. We want to share this with you, but most importantly, we want you to enjoy it.”
He moved my hand to his chest. His skin had dried since his shower, but was warm, and my hand was a chalky contrast to his natural tan. He had very little chest hair compared to Ryan, and no tattoos. Studying him up close and hearing his reassurances eased the tension in my chest—the self-doubt, the loathing that had been put there by someone I’d chosen to cut out of my life.
“Don’t let your past dictate your future,” Thom murmured, as he dipped his head to kiss me. “Don’t assume everyone is as shallow and hateful,” he added, between open-mouthed kisses along my jawline and down my neck.
I closed my eyes and let his words wash over me, let him kiss my shoulder, my chest, and my hip, my lips missing the warmth of his.
Relief, I felt blessed relief as Ryan took his place. This time, he was gentle, coaxing, teasing with delicate nibbles of my bottom lip, tracing the soft flesh just inside.
With Ryan keeping me distracted, Thom reached my panties and ran his index finger along the waist.
My stomach somersaulted, and I sucked in a sharp breath much to Ryan’s amusement. He smiled against my mouth and asked, “You ready, sweetheart?”
My answering groan was answer enough and they moved seamlessly.
Panties off, ass on the bed, Ryan led by guiding me down with one hand in my hair and his mouth on mine.
Thom was on me in a blink, guiding my legs apart and running his tongue slowly along my slit.
My moment of uncertainty had done nothing to kill my arousal, and my already swollen clit responded to the first deft flick of his tongue by sending shivers through the lower half of my body.
Done with my mouth, Ryan moved lower, cupping my breasts and sucking my left nipple into his mouth.
My body was awash with sensation. Thom sucked on my clit while Ryan stimulated my nipples, and I felt myself tumbling out of control far quicker than I ever had before. It was a heady, almost addictive feeling to have them draw the response from me so rapidly.
Thom read my body perfectly, and just before I reached my peak, he pulled back and licked the length of my slit again.
I moaned with frustration. I’d been so close, but now the sensations were different.
Thom shifted slightly, pushing my legs farther apart and thrusting his tongue into my channel.
I squirmed, not to s
top him, but to redirect him. I needed more. I needed to come, and that meant getting his mouth back over my clit. But Thom wouldn’t take the hint, and I tried to distract myself by moving my hand until I found Ryan’s cock.
I took him in my hand and marvelled at his length as I stroked, once, twice, and then he shifted. Kneeling at my side, he looked down at me and gave me a wolfish grin.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he growled, watching my hand work over him. I groaned again, my hand halting its motion, and he peered down at Thom.
His cock twitched in my hand, spurring me to continue, but Thom’s administrations came to an abrupt halt and it threw me off.
Thom appeared at my other side, and I watched him lean over and kiss Ryan fully.
With my left hand free, and Thom so close, I gave in to the impulse and took his cock too.
Their kiss deepened, my strokes were long and firm, and before I could feel left out, two fingers circled my clit.
Two more found my pussy and dipped inside, hooking up to find my tender spot, and still the guys kissed above me.
I was so close. Too close. My orgasm ripped through my body before I could hope to control it, and I cried out in shock and ecstasy.
How long had it been? I couldn’t remember, but that was the first orgasm I’d had in a very long time.
It was the first I’d been given by two guys who, when I finally opened my eyes, were watching me race towards another.
All shame was gone. Instead, I was enveloped in the heady scent of sex. Their bodies. My body.
Ryan’s voice broke my reverie. “I want to watch you to suck my dick.”
I wanted to suck his dick.
Ryan withdrew his fingers, much to my displeasure, and moved up the bed. Taking the opportunity to have me to himself for a moment, Thom leaned down and thrust his tongue into my mouth. I could taste myself on him, but all it did was make me desperate to have them. There was none of his previous gentleness. No. This was hot, hard, and fucking desperate. I matched him, revelling in the differences between them both. Thom’s lips were fuller, but Ryan’s tongue was broader. Where Thom kissed, Ryan threw in the occasional nibble of my bottom lip.
When he pulled away, I took a steadying breath and turned over, crawling up the bed towards Ryan. He was waiting, stroking his cock, with his back against the headboard. He winked, making me laugh a little, and I wet my lips before dipping my head and drawing him into my mouth.
“Take her. I want to feel it when you get her deep,” he demanded, gathering my hair in his hands so he could see my mouth wrapped around him.
Every muscle in my body went taut as Thom’s hands settled on my hips and he slid inside me. He filled me up with inch after glorious inch, and I rocked back greedily to meet him.
“She likes that. Give her a good fucking,” Ryan growled, tightening his grip on my hair, and guiding my head down. “You want him to really fuck you, don’t you, Lyla?”
I moaned around his girth, not able or willing to form words. I felt so wonderfully full, nothing was important enough for me to break away from that.
With one hard cock nudging the back of my throat, Ryan guiding my head up and down over the length of him, and another to the hilt in my pussy, I relaxed into the rhythm of their bodies on mine. Thom gripped my hips as he fucked me, and I reached down to find my clit as he worked me towards another orgasm.
“Good girl,” Ryan crooned, as I gasped around him, fighting to breathe, to think, to master the sensations overtaking me.
Thom remained silent as he slammed into me hard and fast, but Ryan seemed unable to keep his quiet moans to himself. They only pushed me further, proof of the effect I was having over him.
I was doing that to him. Me.
Ryan’s dick released from my mouth with a pop as I tipped my head back and fought for breath as I came, and Ryan let me go, but not far.
Thom thrust deep and held still. I knew he was spent before his hands stroked down my back and he pulled away.
I panted on all fours, catching my breath, but Ryan wanted his.
“Come and sit on this,” he commanded, not prepared to let me recover.
I was too far gone to think and moved immediately, straddling his thighs and lowering myself onto him.
He felt different than Thom. Thicker. My body adjusted instantly, and I sighed my pleasure at the change.
Hands on my hips, Ryan encouraged me to move.
With my hands gripping his shoulders, I rode him as he smoothed his hands up my body to find my breasts, and rolled my nipples between his finger and thumb. The whole time he watched me, his eyes boring into mine.
I found an easy rhythm as Thom joined us again—kissing my shoulder, cupping my breasts, and reaching down to rub my clit as I ground desperately against Ryan.
“Fuck. Me. Oh my… Fuck…” I hadn’t meant to speak, let alone spew profanities, but the intensity of the sensations that flooded my body and mind were too great to control.
Ryan was close, his low groans mingled with my own, as Thom encouraged me to reach my peak by pinching my clit
The powerful grip of Ryan’s hands on my breasts was beautifully painful as I fought to hold in the wail of pleasure that tore through me as he bucked his hips and thrust his own orgasm into me.
As he stilled, I began to laugh. I couldn’t stop myself.
He joined me, running his hands over my body before Thom guided me down onto the bed.
I was the wrong way up, and a hot, panting mess, but I didn’t give a shit. This was the very best I’d felt in years and I didn’t want it to stop.
“You okay?” Thom asked, kissing my forehead, and laying on the bed by my side.
Ryan joined us, resting his head on one hand and looking down at me, while lacing his fingers through Thom’s. Their entwined hands settled on my stomach.
“Yeah,” I managed to say, looking up at them. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Good,” Ryan announced, kissing me gently. “I’m fucking starving.”
My eyes widened. “Oh, shit. I brought home steak. It’s on the landing.”
Thom laughed, rolling his shoulders and tilting his head until his neck cracked. “Not much good out there, is it?”
Ryan was already off the bed and walking towards the door.
I rolled onto my front as he opened it, and he paused before announcing, “I think we’ll have to settle for Chinese.”
“Why?” I queried, already suspecting what happened.
“Because looking at the mess out here, Gunner got his.”
10
Thom
The pull in my lats felt great after a week of slacking off. Pull ups, while more tiring, really left me feeling like I’d worked out. I hadn’t intentionally skipped, but getting home felt more pressing than hanging back for an extra hour at work.
Lyla had occupied most of my thoughts all week. Particularly the way she’d froze on us.
I knew what it was the moment I saw it. Everything in her changed. Her confidence wilted like a dying flower. All because Francis made her ashamed of her body.
She’d called herself fat the day before and I’d ignored the slight. She used the word as though it had any impact on how people should receive her.
We weren’t people.
Ryan’s reaction to her sudden loss of confidence was better than I could have hoped. He realised what it was as quickly as I had, and knowing him as well as I do, I knew he was masking his anger so as not to scare her.
I’d seen every glorious inch of her body and revelled in it. I’d gripped the soft flesh of her hips, ran my thumbs over the dimples at the base of her spine, and loved every second of it. Each aspect was an accentuation of her femininity and I’d worshipped it, as I worshipped Ryan. His masculinity calling to a different part of me.
The gym door closed quietly, and his familiar whistle echoed around the room.
There were two guys in here with me, one on the weights opposite, and another running with earbuds i
n with music drowning out all sound around him.
“Got a minute?” Ryan asked, as he passed by the equipment.
Curious, I paused and replied, “Yeah, just… five minutes.”
Pulling his phone from his checkered trouser pocket, he headed for my office while I finished my reps. I assumed he’d be messaging Lyla. We set up a group message on an app to coordinate with each other on Tuesday. It had proven useful for planning dinner and generally checking in.
There’d been a marked change in Lyla after Monday night, despite her moment of trepidation. We both noticed it. After spending a short time coming down from the high we’d been on, Ryan showered, then me, and I ran her a bath and gave her some space while Ryan ordered dinner. She joined us at the table to eat, and when Ryan and I returned to my bed, inviting Lyla to come with us, she remained by our sides for the rest of the evening.
That time was spent quietly. Intimately. We didn’t have sex again, it wasn’t necessary. We simply enjoyed being together, adjusting to the new dynamic we appeared to have brought into our lives.
On Tuesday morning, Ryan scribbled her a note with our numbers and we left her sleeping. She contacted us both as soon as she was awake, and while she was relaxed, even affectionate towards us both as the week moved on, she was careful not to allow a repeat performance.
I wasn’t sure why, but I hadn’t brought it up to either her or Ryan.
Finishing up the reps, I wiped my brow and joined Ryan in the office. I closed the door to give us privacy and leaned against it. “What’s up?”
He shook his phone with a scowl. “She’s gone quiet.”
“She’s probably busy,” I remarked, sitting at my desk and picking up a pen. I had three fitness tests to oversee that afternoon, and two of the lads had failed the previous month.
Leaning on a table running beneath the window to the gym, he huffed and argued, “But what if she isn’t? What if he’s come for her?”
