FRIDAY AFTERNOON, I’M surprised to find both my roommates sitting on the couch waiting for me when I get home. Fletch looks pained and almost awkward, but Shane is just tossing his baseball into the air and catching it, over and over. Like he’s totally focused. Except I know Shane, and Shane is not a hyper-focused kind of person.

This is an intervention.

“Hey, guys.” I’m hoping to pass through the room to my bedroom quickly.

“Sit down, little bit.”

I’ve been very carefully avoiding hanging out in the living room since Night of the Epic Hand jobs. “Gosh, sorry. I have to go do...something.”

“We need to talk,” Fletch says, using his Fletcher McSerious tone. It’s impossible to ignore him or do anything other than what he says. Lately, he’s had this sort of hypnotic masculinity that makes me nearly go into a trance. Makes me want to please him. Not just sex stuff. I just...want him to be happy with me. It’s hard to explain.

I sit in the chair, not the empty spot between them on the couch. That spot is reserved for my inner-slut, and she is not invited to this discussion. In fact, I’ve locked her in a room in the basement of my mind. Padlocked her in there, even. She is not allowed to come out to play until I figure some more things out. Like who am I even?

“Did we push you too far the other night? Did we make you...force you to do something you didn’t want to do? Because you have to know we would never hurt you on purpose. We care about you like a...well,” Fletch’s face flushes red, “not like a sister, obviously. But you know what I mean.”

I’m tearing up, and I don’t know why. “You guys didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do.” I don’t look all the way up because I don’t want them to see tears. I’d be hard-pressed to explain to them that I don’t know why I’m crying but that it isn’t their fault.

“Then why the disappearing act? Are you embarrassed?” Shane asks. He’s still methodically throwing that ball up in the air, but Fletch reaches out and grabs it.

“Honestly, yes. I’m embarrassed. And it’s not like I ghosted. I’ve just been avoiding...the couch.” Grow up, Winters. “I don’t know how to feel about what happened, so I guess I’ve been pretending it didn’t.”

A minute of silence follows. It’s weird when silence isn’t quiet. It’s like the roar of the Pacific, waves of things unsaid crashing against the shore. But I used the moment to get my tears locked up, adding them to that basement in my head.

“Do you want to know how we feel about what happened?” Shane is actually almost serious.

My eyes dart between them. “Do I?” I shrug. “I honestly don’t know the answer to that.”

“Well,” Shane says, ready to fill me in. “I feel like it was awesome, and I’m not sorry it happened. But it’s not right that we didn’t make you come, too.”

I feel the five-alarm red spreading across my cheeks.

“We’re men of honor,” he continues, ignoring my obvious distress. “We’re not boys. We’re manly men. And men don’t take orgasms without offering them in return.”

Ah. The Knights of the Orgasm Table are worried about chivalry. I blow out a breath. “You offered, remember? There, now your honor is intact.”

Fletch stands up like he can’t keep still and begins pacing. “I don’t want to feel like I’m some kind of lecher who took advantage of you.”

“You’re not!” I insist. “I wanted to touch you guys.”

Wow. This conversation is really happening.

Fletch stops walking and hangs his head, hands on hips. “I feel differently. I feel like we pushed you into something you weren’t ready for, because if you were ready, then you’d have been ready to take pleasure too. Not just give it.”

I rub my temples. We sound like some really weird PSA video they might run for teen sexual awareness. It’s stilted and strange. “I’m sorry that I’m shy. I didn’t realize it would be such a hardship for you both.” I hope the sarcasm comes through loud and clear.

“Shy is kind of hot,” Shane says. “But “not ready” is different from shy. And if you weren’t ready, then we feel like assholes.”

I’m dying a little bit more every second. Where is that girl from the couch? Why did I lock her in the basement? I really could use her right now.

“If you didn’t like what we did, then it feels nonconsensual,” Fletch says. “And we need to talk about that. Because we’re older than you, and bigger than you, and it feels wrong. Like we should be ashamed.”

I’m just going to change my name to Mortification Winters. Nonconsensual? Really? Now they feel like I’m some kind of victim? It was my hands on their cocks, not the other way around. “This is starting to sound like one of the lectures we got about consent during freshman orientation. I wanted to touch you. I liked it. Please don’t turn it into something dirty and wrong.” Wow. This is hard. I feel like I’m growing up a little more every second, but growing pains are awkward and achy. “You’re both really good guys. I’m not afraid of you. I’m just not sure of myself. So, I retreat. I mean this isn’t exactly a normal way most girls learn about sex. But...it doesn’t feel wrong to me. And that’s why I feel like it’s weird. Not what we did, but the way I feel about not feeling ashamed. I’m not sure I’m normal.”

Shane watches Fletch cross the room. “I don’t think there is such a thing as normal. We’re all adults. We don’t have to answer to anyone. If we’re all enjoying the lessons, and let it be known I hella enjoyed the lesson on this couch, then I don’t think it’s wrong. But we need to make sure you didn’t do stuff you weren’t ready for. Inexperience isn’t the problem; it’s maturity. Were you really ready for what happened, or did the two of us use you?”

“If I keep saying you didn’t, that’s not enough?”

Fletch leans against the doorjamb leading into the kitchen. “It’s fine. But no more lessons. We’re done.”

I didn’t realize how much I wanted to keep going until he said that. “Wait.”

“I don’t want you to remember your time with us as ‘when those two perverts made me jack them off.’ There’s nothing wrong with you not being ready to get experience. I’m not interested in pushing you onto the highway.”

“Wait,” I repeat. Wait for what? Am I all of the sudden brave? “I really don’t want to stop the lessons.”

Shane sits up, back straight. Fletch moves away from the doorway. “What are you saying?”

“What are you saying exactly? No uncertain terms, please,” Shane adds. “Like fucking spell it out, please.” He waggles his brows. “Feel free to use explicit language. The raunchier the better.”

My heart is roaring in my ears, but I persevere. “I’m saying that I want you both to keep tutoring me. And I understand,” I swallow around the ball of feelings trying to come up my throat, “I understand that means I have to let my guard down. And let you make me...come...too.”

Shane looks intrigued as hell, but Fletch still looks worried. I’m getting better at figuring out their wordless convos now. I think it goes something like this:

Shane: Dude, this is excellent.

Fletch: It’s a bad idea. Too many things can go wrong. She’s my little sister’s best friend.

Shane: I know. Hot right?

Fletch: She’s too young.

Shane: She’s literally sixteen months younger than you are.

Fletch: We’re supposed to be looking out for her.

Shane: And we will. We help her get confident. Show her how hot she is. And we get off too. Come on, man. It’s not like we’re not all in college. This is what college is for.

Maybe I need to intervene here. “I want to remember my time in this house as when two of my really hot friends showed me how good at sex I can be. I want to do this.”

“Sex?” Shane repeats.

“One thing at a time, bro,” Fletch says. He holds my gaze for a long time, his fist clenches, and then he lets go. “We go slow.”

“Okay,” Shane and I answer simultaneously.

“I know this is weird—” I start.

But Fletch interrupts me. “This is just as weird for us, well, me, as it is for you. This isn’t weird for you at all, is it, Shane?”

“Nope, it’s not that weird for me,” Shane agrees. “So, we get to make you come tonight?” He checks his watch. “Look at that. It’s pretty close to night right about now. Let’s give you more data for your sexy notebook, yeah?”

I stand up. Taking charge of my own destiny. “Yes.” And I walk over to the couch, sitting next to Shane.

It takes another minute of awkward silence before Fletcher joins us. I think he was rethinking his position until Shane put his arm around my shoulder. Then he wasn’t about to let Shane steer the bus alone.

Fletch puts his hand on my knee. “This is all about you tonight. No penises come out.”

“I like it when the penises come out,” I reply.

We all laugh awkwardly.

“I know you do, sweetheart,” Shane says and kisses me. Heatedly. And I kiss him back with no reservations because I like kissing, and I think I took to my kissing lesson from the other night well. It feels really good.

Shane doesn’t mess around with the teasing kisses tonight. He’s holding my face and feeding his passion to me. Fletch strokes his big hand down my arm and back up, squeezing my shoulder, pushing my hair to the other side. Their attention is one-hundred percent focused on me. I forget to be awkward or self-conscious

Fletch starts sucking on my earlobe while undressing me. I feel like I’m in some sort of passion fog. Like it’s happening to my body, but my brain doesn’t accept it as true. Like it’s a dream. A very good, erotic dream. Five minutes ago, I was avoiding eye contact with them and now I’m offering up my body.

They pass me back and forth, kissing me until I’m naked but they are fully clothed. It feels naughtier this way. I’m so wet, heat blooming in my pussy as they kiss me over and over.

Their hands stroke over me and they murmur things against my skin. In some kind of synchronized move, they both latch onto my breasts at the same time, and I shudder with a mini-release.

“What a good girl you are,” Shane says.

He’s having fun. He’s laidback and relaxed. But Fletch...well, he gets really intense. He starts directing the action. He loses that “Boy Scout” look in his eyes, and it’s replaced with a dangerous glint. He becomes this other man I’ve only seen in brief bits and pieces.

Dominant. Arrogant. Completely in control. Of me. Of Shane. Of himself.

“Lie back,” Fletch tells me as he pushes me back into the couch, moving my legs apart wide while he settles between them on his knees on the floor. “That’s the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

Shane groans against my breast, maybe surprised at the dirty talk. I know I am. My nipple pops out of his mouth. “Your tits are awesome, Pen. Seriously.”

Fletch slides his hands up my thighs, grasping me roughly. “God damn. I haven’t stopped thinking about what I want to do to you since I saw the way you looked at my cock the other night. You’re such a naughty girl, aren’t you?” He licks the seam where my leg meets my body.

I shiver involuntarily, my pulse thundering in my ears. “Yes.”

He licks on the other side. “Tell me.” His voice is sharp, the command goes right to my pussy.

I start traveling someplace else in my mind. “Oh, God. Yes. I’m such a naughty girl.”

“Did you like looking at our cocks? Touching them? Making us come all over your hands, sweetheart?”

“Yes. I loved it. I loved both your cocks so much.”

Who is talking right now? Was that me?

“But you wanted more, didn’t you, Velma?” Shane asks. “You wanted us to make you come that night, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“We wanted to make you come so bad,” Fletch says. “We want to make you come all over our fingers and our tongues tonight. I want to eat your pussy until you can’t fucking remember your name.”

When his mouth touches me, I cry out. His ruthless tongue drags across my tender flesh, lapping at my juices. I’m so wet I could drown him. I moan, and he growls, spreading me open with his tongue. He’s enjoying every second, it seems, toying with my clit and then delving deep into my center and back again. He’s hunched over, his shoulders rounded, and the sound of him on my pussy is sloppy and wet. He’s a Fletch-shaped animal gorging on my body. He raises his head and the whole lower half of his face is glazed from me.

Purely carnal now, I hardly recognize him. He dives back in, and I start shuddering beneath his mouth, my orgasm sneaking up on me. He lays his head on my stomach while I come down from the sudden high, his hands continuing to stroke my legs until I stop shivering.

“My turn,” Shane says and starts kissing his way down my body as Fletcher moves out of the way.

When Shane starts licking me, Fletch moves up to the couch. “Spread your legs wider, Penelope.” He pulls one of my legs up at an angle. It’s so obscene, him holding me open so his best friend can eat me out. I turn my head toward him, and he starts kissing me deeply. I can taste myself on his mouth, it’s raw and unreal. There are two tongues inside my body right now, both of them fucking me. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know who these guys have become. We’re all turning into animals.

“You like getting licked, don’t you? You’re such a bad girl. Are you going to come all over Shane’s face, bad girl?”

My stomach pitches, and I feel my circuits gathering charge for another electric orgasm. I can’t slow the fall down now. Not with the sensation of Shane’s mouth on my center and the dirty words coming out of Fletch. The Fletch I know is the original Boy Scout. The pleasant gentleman. This Fletch is hardcore and dark, like he can see right into my head and revels in pulling out my filthiest thoughts. Shane inserts one and then a second finger into me and rolls his tongue over my clit over and over, and my eyes roll back in my head as my orgasm starts in my toes.

As I tumble into coming, it seems to spur Shane on even more. He’s growling and rutting his face against my pussy, pushing my pleasure higher and harder. When I start screaming, Fletch palms my face and takes my cries into his mouth with his kisses until I’m boneless and nearly pass out. I can’t control my body. It’s shivering, and my heart is beating too fast. Fletch pulls me across him onto his lap and holds me tightly to his broad, muscled chest.

I curl up into a ball and let him tend to me. I don’t know how long it is until I start coming back to myself. Shane has left the room to “tend to some things.” Fletch is still holding me, stroking me while I shiver.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“God. That was...amazing.”

“You’re amazing. You taste really good.”

It’s silly to blush at this point, but blush I do. I uncurl and risk a look at him. He’s still got some of that primitive fire in his eyes, but he’s gathering my clothes. As I get dressed, he goes to “check something in his room” and the doorbell rings. I’m still kind of shaky, but I manage okay until I open the door.

“Surprise!”

Jenna.