“Definitely not how I expected to be spending my Saturday night”, he laughs. We’re just like that for a minute or two while I pull myself together. We’re not really talking but it’s not awkward. As Rob is idly stroking my nipple, I’m conscious of his hard cock pushing against my backside, and having rested a bit, I’m starting to get turned on again. I push back against him, just subtly, but enough so he notices, and I can feel his cock stiffen a bit more. Dean picks up on the small movement and smiles.
“So we have more plans for you”, he says, and moves down the bed so he’s lying facing me, sliding his hand between my leg to just cup my vulva, squeezing a little bit. “Are you good with this?” he asks, looking me in the eye.
I know exactly what he means, and nod. Reaching behind him, he grabs the tube of lube and passes it to Rob. I remember I need to relax, even though I’m a bit nervous. Reading my mind, Dean whispers:
“Relax… you can stop whenever you want to”, and then he kisses me, softly at first and then with a little more urgency.
At the same time, Rob is coating my arse with lube. Putting the tube on the cabinet behind him — having also applied some to his cock — he slowly starts pushing against me, his arm sliding up between me and Dean, cupping my breast, pulling me back against him, not forcefully but with clear intention. I feel the head of his cock pushing against me, slowly, and I consciously relax everything as much as I can… given how much I’ve already cum, this isn’t difficult. And then I feel that he’s inside me, just a little bit.
Dean senses the change in my kissing and pulls back a bit. Watching Rob and me, he knows what’s happening. Rob pushes in a little more and I let out a low moan.
“Are you OK?” he asks.
“Yes… yes, definitely OK”, I reply, focusing on the feeling as he moves in a bit more… and then more. It feels so good… such a difficult sensation to describe, but amazing.
“Fuck that’s amazing”, Rob says. “You feel so fucking good.”
“Just hold there a minute”, I say, and then look up at Dean. “OK”, I say to him, and he knows what I mean. Lifting my leg a bit, he slides down and manouevres himself, taking a minute to get the angle right… and then I feel his cock sliding into my cunt. I’m still slick from all the fucking and lube earlier, and he enters me easily.
“Good?” he asks, watching me intently.
“Fuck yes!” I respond, which is about all I’m capable of saying.
The feeling of the two of them inside me at once is, again, almost too much… but also completely delicious, flooding over me as my body relaxes into the sensation. I really am overwhelmed now, and have to just let them take over — caught between them, I can barely move. Dean starts moving, slowly but confidently, and then I feel Rob matching him, carefully at first, and then a little faster. His arm is still looped around me, anchoring himself against me. I again don’t know how they’re managing to find such a synchronised rhythm… I think they’re somehow responding to me, but really, who knows how it happens. Dean’s eyes are locked with mine — he’s watching me to make sure I’m OK, but also because seeing my responses to being so thoroughly fucked is incredibly hot for him. I reach up with my arm to push against the bedhead, needing something solid. I feel completely subsumed into the bodies wrapped around me, the cocks filling me.
“Fuck”, I breathe, involuntarily. “Fuck… fuck… jesus fucking christ.”
“You’re about to cum, eh?” Dean asks — he recognises it but knows it’s also different.
“Don’t stop me”, I growl, still looking him in the eye. Rob reaches up to grasp my hand that’s pushing against the bedhead, lacing his fingers into mine, reminding me that I’m safe, that he’s there.
“Do you want us to cum with you?” Rob asks, almost whispering in my ear.
“Please”, I reply, “but I don’t know if I can wait.” This pushes both of them a bit, and I feel more urgency in their fucking.
“Tell me when”, Dean says, still watching me. Everything is slick, hot, hard…
“NOW”‘ I gasp, feeling a tidal wave surging up inside me.
“HOLD ME!” I groan, to no one in particular, but I know if someone doesn’t I’ll pull away from both of them.
Rob tightens the arm he has wrapped around, pulling me down against him, as Dean slides his hand in around behind my neck and into my hair — he knows this make it hard for me to move, but also that I love it. His fingers tightening in the roots of my hair are all I can take, and I feel the tidal wave crashing down.
My whole body tenses, arches back against Rob as he pulls me in tighter. I feel like I’m cumming forever… while I’m on the high, I hear Rob moan “Jesus”, and I know he’s there too… and then almost straight after I feel Dean’s fingers in my hair tense and a shudder through his body…
… and then everything collapses. My tense arching body falls back into the bed, into Rob’s arms, while Dean pulls into me and kisses me. We’re just a tangle of sweat and limbs and cum and inability to move.
‘That’, I say, stating the blindingly obvious, ‘was absolutely fucking amazing’.
POSTSCRIPT
Everyone’s had a quick shower. Dean’s dressed — he never stays. I’ve chucked on a slip, for some reason needing to be decent. I walk Dean to the door and give him a long kiss goodbye.
“That was fun”, he says, smirking at me a little.
“It was OK”, I respond, with a cheeky smile, and he turns to go.
As I walk back inside, Rob’s pulled some pants on and disappears out the door, saying he’ll be back in a minute. I hear voices outside, but don’t really think much of it, assuming they’re just saying goodbye. Rob walks back in, smiling, as I’m making a somewhat fruitless attempt to sort the bed out. Laughing at me he tells me I might as well give up, pulling me back into the bed, lifting the slip I’m wearing over my head, and wrapping his arms around me to pull my body into his. We eventually fall asleep pretty much like that…
Rob leaves a couple of days after that, with a lot more talking and drinking and eating and fucking before then. By the time he’s ready to leave, we’re both exhausted and happy. He sends filthy texts and photos throughout the rest of his time in the country, and on the flight back home.
A week later my phone pings. I glance at it… and realise it’s Dean.
‘Happy hour tomorrow?’ — our code for the drinking and fucking we always enjoyed.
I smile, suddenly remembering Rob talking to him at the end of the evening we spent together. I send him a screenshot of Dean’s message, with my own text:
‘Did you have anything to do with this?’
He replies, ‘Maybe… you be good now.’
‘I’m always good’, I shoot back, and I know he’s laughing.
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