Grace

 

My mini dress was up around my hips in moments, legs spreading wide for Heath’s crazy skilled fingers. My belly was a mess of lust, fluttering with an ocean of tiny wings as his mouth found mine.

He nipped me, sucked me, swept his warm lips across my exposed throat and it was pointless to fight the sensations. Pointless to fight him.

I reached out for my husband as he joined us on the bed, his knees dipping the mattress at my side enough that my body moved towards his. His fingers brushed up the tender skin of my inner thigh, setting me alight with their close proximity to the other man’s.

The fear was intoxicating, addictive, my thoughts tumbling as my heart thrummed wild.

Two men.

Two gorgeous men.

I prayed I was up to taking everything they had to give. But more than that, I prayed I was up to giving them everything in return. I wanted them grunting out of control, lost to the pleasure I was delivering. I wanted every hole filled with the proof of what I’d done to them, what I’d driven them to.

I wanted to taste him. Heath. I wanted to watch his expression shift from calm master of himself and the universe around him to a man swept up in me. Consumed by me. Pushed from his axis and reeling in the waves, desperate for everything I was giving.

Just as I was desperate for everything he’d shown me last time around and left me wanting.

I couldn’t fight it. Didn’t want to. My arms snaked naturally around both guys, pulling them closer as the tension blistered between them.

There was no chance for Brett to reel against the revulsion of another man’s fresh-on-my-lips kiss as I sought out his mouth and slipped my tongue out to greet his. It was crazy, a different man’s fingers grazing my clit through my knickers as my husband kissed me deep. The rhythm was mismatched in a way that was delicious, two hot bodies pressing tighter to mine as someone tugged my mini dress down at the neckline and freed my tits from my bra.

And then there were two hands. One on each, pinching and pulling at nipples that ached for it. My heels pressed to the mattress and shifted my ass into the air, my pussy craving the same attention.

It was easier than I expected to find my groove and ask for what I wanted. I didn’t speak a word, just let my fingers do the talking. Thomas Heath’s hair was soft in my grip as I guided his mouth to my nipple. He nipped sharp in what felt like a quick flash of punishment for my boldness, and then he swallowed me, sucking so hard I mewled into Brett’s fierce kiss.

I knew right then that tonight would be rough.

Brutal.

Caught between the blows as two men fought for their pride.

I felt guilty for wanting it that way, but I did. I felt like a traitorous little slut as I slipped my leg between Heath’s and angled my pussy in his direction.

Please.

I couldn’t have spoken it any louder if I’d have screamed it from my lungs. Another nip at my breast and his fingers taunted me, sliding down the ruched fabric over my stomach to tease my clit.

I felt his hard on as he pressed his length to my hip, and there was no hint of reservation there about another man’s nakedness. Brett’s cock was throbbing just as proud when I sought it out with my sweaty palm, squeezing tight to feel the pulse in his shaft. There was no doubt about it, both guys were impressive in everything. From their dirty eyes to their firm abs, and lower. Their dicks were more than enough to reinforce their self-belief, swollen enough to deflate my confidence in taking them.

Brett had pushed me hard through long nights, straining me to the hilt to make me ready for this. I felt anything but ready as the reality of two huge meaty dicks throbbed so threateningly against me. It didn’t matter though. I’d take them. Even if it broke me and left me an aching wreck for days. Even if they tore me open and left me sobbing, I’d still beg for more.

It was in me. The fantasy too deeply ingrained to step down from the challenge. It was every dirty night with my hand down my knickers, mind spinning like crazy at the thought of being eaten up by two at once. It was the forbidden thrill of taking more than one man, more than my fill, more than most women ever got to experience, even if that one man proved beyond all doubt to be one too many.

Brett broke the kiss with a hiss of breath, thrusting his hips and working his dick between my tight fingers, hand plunging between my thighs and tugging the wet lace of my panties to the side.

Please.

Another silent beg. This one with needy eyes staring up at the man who’d delivered me to my ultimate fantasy for the second time over. He gave me what I wanted, two thick fingers to the knuckle as Heath’s fingers circled my squealing clit.

Please.

This time it was a whimper, coaxing my husband’s face down toward my tit, daringly close to the other man’s sucking mouth and the slurps he was making on my skin.

He fought it, hovering rigid for a long moment as he stared at Heath’s mouth clasped so tight to my flesh. They must have both felt the pressure, because I watched Heath’s eyes flick up toward my husband’s, flashing with disgust before he responded with a bite on my flesh that took my breath. His teeth gripped tight and held, but it was the strength of the suck that had me whimpering.

He was marking me, and the bruises would last for days.

Brett must have realised it at the exact same moment, because his reluctance disappeared in a flash, his eyes wide on mine as he clamped his mouth to my bare skin and nipped with a strength of his own.

Fuck, it was the most incredible soreness. I craved more, wanting enough bruises from these two delicious mouths to last a lifetime.

My nipples cried out as they both broke the contact, and I surveyed the damage through hazy eyes, pink flesh blooming bright and glistening with fresh spit.

Dirty. It was so dirty. And so was I.

“Let me suck,” I breathed, and I wasn’t sure who I was talking to.

It was Brett who answered me, positioning himself in a straddling kneel above my face and slapping the head of his dick to my cheek.

I didn’t need encouraging, mouth open wide for the swell of him as I tipped my head back and drank him in. My hand slipped between my legs, but no sooner had my fingers landed on my clit than Thomas pushed them aside. His thumb pressed hard, still but brutal, making me gurgle around a throatful of dick.

I knew this place from last time. The way he turned me into a slut with every touch and gesture. The way I couldn’t resist squirming in my bid for more.

“Dirty little whores earn their pleasure,” Heath grunted, and my soul winced. “Be a good girl and suck like you mean it.”

I did mean it. I meant every lick around Brett’s dick, sucking hard enough that my cheeks caved in, throat retching wet and head bobbing under him.

“Suck,” Heath growled and I whimpered.

Brett took my hair and helped my head back and forth, fucking me like a ragdoll as his balls bounced on my chin.

“Let’s hope your pussy sucks half as well as that slutty little throat,” Heath added, and thrust three fingers all the way in.

I clenched with everything I had, muscles taut to aching as I gripped his fingers with every strain of strength in me. I coughed up spit all over Brett’s cock and groaned for Heath to fuck me hard, a glutton for punishment as his wrist became a terrible piston, his fingers a punch to my womb in their bid to open me wide.

It was Brett who growled next time. “Suck me,” he told me. “Suck my fucking dick like the filthy little slut that you are.”

I could normally read my husband like a book, every tense and strain of his balls was a language I’d learned my whole adult life, but not tonight.

Oh fuck, not tonight.

I scrabbled at the sheets as Heath’s thumb pressed to my clit and circled wide, and Brett seized the moment of my toppling excitement, digging his cock into the very depths of my throat to choke my cries.

It was mute but loud, their timing impeccable as they struck together to make my climax vicious in its intensity. My clit spasmed and spiralled, hips wriggling as Heath finger-fucked me out of my mind. It was all I could do to snatch long breaths through my nose, throat filled to bursting by my husband’s pulsing dick.

But he didn’t come. There wasn’t even a salty taste of precum as Brett tugged free, my mouth gaping wide as I caught my breath.

I knew Heath saw it. He couldn’t not. Brett shifted himself in a heartbeat to face his rival, cock still proud and dripping with my spit as I gasped and recovered from my first explosion.

“Round one to me,” Heath said with a smirk and licked his fingers clean.

“Like fuck it was,” Brett replied. “Now get in my wife’s pretty throat and see how well you hold up to the same fucking pressure.”

“My pleasure,” Heath said, with his trademark smirk.

But he was wrong.

The pleasure was all fucking mine.