Katie

 

Not nervous, not nervous, not nervous. Definitely not nervous. No way.

I’d packed too many clothes for a night away, virtually the entire passable collection from my wardrobe, but what was a girl to do? A night out in Brighton could mean anything. Posh dinner? Ballroom dancing? A basement rave? Partying on the beach?

Should have packed those glittery pumps. They’d pass for beach party attire. Crap.

Rick smiled across at me, and I wished I could see his eyes through his shades. “Not too long now.” He turned the music up a notch, but Carl tapped the back of his seat.

“I’m expecting a call,” he said, gruffly, and Rick turned it back down. He shook his head at me, and I laughed. My neck prickled as Carl leaned forward, his chiselled face appearing so close, right between our seats. “Some of us have to work,” he said, and then his phone started up.

He’d been in the back seat the whole journey, his laptop on his lap and his phone beeping and whizzing. I didn’t mind. I liked it up front with Rick. I liked it a lot.

Maybe I even liked the guy in the back seat a little, too.

I relaxed into the leather of the seat, the sun hitting my skin through the window as the world outside passed me by. I could do this. Carl, I mean. Maybe not do him do him. The thought of fucking him still brought me out in a cold sweat, but this, being with him. This I was getting used to.

His humour was dry, and he was uptight, and snarky, and a mega workaholic, but he was alright.

I was surviving Carl Brooks.

I was loving Rick Warner.

And I had three lovely fucking grand in my bank account.

Three!

Three lovely grand in my bank account, two fat dicks in my pussy later, and an industrial bottle of lube in my suitcase. Lube and paracetamol. And sanitary pads, for the internal bleeding I couldn’t imagine avoiding as Carl’s monster dick tore into me. Not really, I didn’t have room in my case for non-essential toiletries. I smiled at the surrealism of my predicament, and Rick smiled back, put a hand on my knee. I put mine on top and squeezed, and I knew then I’d be alright.

I’d never been to Brighton. It was taller than I was expecting, a string of big hotels on the front, and the sea to my right. I pressed my face to the window and my heart jumped as we passed the bustle of the pier. I should have definitely brought my glittery pumps. Rick pulled into the underground parking of a grand looking hotel just a short way beyond, prime position, and Carl groaned as his mobile signal cut out.

“Fuck,” he said.

We parked up, and got out, and Carl was already wandering away, his phone in his hand as he stared at the screen and angled it for signal. Rick touched a hand to my elbow and winked at me, and then he leapt after Carl, sneaking behind him to whip the phone from his fingers. He pranced away as Carl rushed after him, and I laughed as they played a stand-off, Rick poised on one side of the Range Rover as Carl came after him.

“Prick,” Carl said. “I need that.”

“Nah,” Rick laughed. “Not this weekend.”

“Yes, this fucking weekend!”

“No way!” Rick made a dash for it, and I laughed as Carl charged after him, and then there was a shake down and in a beat Rick had shoved the phone down the front of his jeans, and he was smirking, hip thrusting as Carl tried to get a grip on his belt.

“You think that’s going to fucking stop me? I’ll have your pants round your fucking ankles, I don’t give a shit.”

A family of four approached from the stairwell and stood mute by their Mercedes, and I laughed, oh hell how I laughed, hard enough to double over as Rick got close enough to the exit that Carl’s phone started ringing in his pants. He gyrated his crotch, jumping about, his face a picture as the handset chimed and buzzed against his dick.

“That’s important!” Carl growled, and I had to cover my face with my arm, laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe. Rick handed it back with a grin once the call had rung out, and Carl jabbed his arm. “You’re such a fucking idiot, Richard. Such a fucking dick.”

But even Carl was smiling. He dropped the smile as he saw me laughing.

“Glad my professional humiliation is amusing you, Katie,” he said. But he was playing, I saw it in his eyes. He looked from me to Rick and back again and then he groaned and pressed the off button. “Fine. I’m done for the weekend.”

Rick threw an arm around his neck and pulled him close, landing a big wet kiss on his cheek, and it made my tummy lurch. “I fucking love you, Carl.”

“Pleased to hear it,” Carl said, and wiped his cheek down with a grimace, but that was playing, too.

I think Carl Brooks played more than I’d have ever expected, hiding behind a gruff exterior, all steely and corporate and stern.

I gave him another point. Carl. Score: 003. Good wine, scary hot, really a little bit funny when you get to know him.

Rick grabbed my hand and Carl grabbed my case along with his own, and we made our way up to reception where nobody seemed to raise an eyebrow that the three of us were checking into one double. But of course they wouldn’t, our double was a whole fucking suite. Two huge rooms of grandeur on the top floor with a balcony overlooking the front, and it was awesome. It had been a long time since I’d been to the seaside, never mind among such opulence, and the excitement boiled over. Rick leapt on the bed and did a bounce, and I joined him, up and down on our asses while Carl checked out the view.

And then Rick pinned me, his inked arms holding me to the bed while he flicked his tongue up my throat, and I let out a pleasurable moan.

“Get a fucking room, kids,” Carl said, and the husk in his tone gave me shivers. I watched him unpack his case, a couple of dark shirts and a black pair of jeans, a pair of shorts I really couldn’t imagine him wearing, and some boxers, folded up neatly. He looked at Rick and then he unpacked some more, and my thighs felt like jelly strings as he lined up a load of sex toys on the dressing table. Dildos and plugs and a big bottle of lube. I tried to play it cool, relaxing at Rick’s side as though I wasn’t absolutely shitting myself. Carl loosened his cuffs, rolled his sleeves up as though he was about to get stuck into manual labour, and I nearly did shit myself.

He must have seen my expression, as he smirked.

“Later,” he said.

Rick turned my face to his, and he was smiling. “Chill,” he said. “You’ll enjoy it. I promise.”

My throat felt too dry to even risk replying, and I couldn’t think of the words to say if I’d wanted to.

“We’re wasting the day in here,” Carl said. “Let’s go. Sunshine calling.”

I kicked off my pumps and swapped them for sandals, and headed to the bathroom to swap my jeans for cut-off shorts, tossing my hair for a bit of extra volume before I was ready to don my pink shades and head outside. The day was warm and bright, and it chased my reservations away. We took a table on the beachfront for lunch, and we drank fruity cocktails while Rick talked about the string of old family holidays he’d been on as a child.

One of four kids, he said, loads of fun. Well-to-do parents with loads of money and an easy demeanour. It was easy to see why he was so confident.

“I was the cool one.” He grinned. “Bit of a joker.”

I could believe that.

He finished up his stories and looked between us both, waiting for one of us to pick up the baton and share our own tales. When Carl looked away I figured it was my turn.

“Mum took me away when she could,” I said. “Those crappy little budget caravan breaks in the school holidays, where the food is nothing but value burgers and the pool is a higher percentage of child piss than it is water. It was on the edge of Bognor Regis, a total shithole. Loved it, all the same.”

I couldn’t imagine either of those two knowing what I meant, but Carl surprised me.

“I went once, same park. Only holiday I ever had, just for a couple of days. Best time of my childhood.”

“Only holiday?” I asked.

He nodded. “They didn’t really have the budget to take us kids away, not from the hostel.”

“The hostel?” The question was out of my mouth before I thought, and Rick put his hand on mine, squeezed.

“Ice cream,” he said. “I think it’s time for ice cream on the beach.”

I could take a hint. “Sure,” I said. “Sounds a great idea.”

We walked slowly, and I threaded my fingers with Rick’s as he threaded his with Carl’s, and it felt nice here, absorbed by the crowd of other unusual parties, colourful people in colourful clothes, gay and straight and everything in between.

“You mentioned your mother,” Carl said. “What about your father?”

“I don’t have a dad,” I replied in a beat. “My dad is nothing but a blank space on my birth certificate.”

“Sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be,” I said. “I’m not.”

He looked at me over Rick’s shoulder, and his eyes were so green in the sunlight. “I don’t have a dad, either,” he said. “Not one that matters. People should learn to keep it in their fucking pants if they’re not man enough to step up to the plate.”

We agreed on something, that was for sure.

“And now I feel like the odd one out,” Rick laughed.

“You are the odd one out,” Carl smirked. “Always.”

“Whatever.” Rick grinned, wrapped his arms around our waists and pulled us in tight, so tight that the scent of Carl knocked into me when he did, and he was dark and deep and smelled like leather on skin. “I’m the glue that holds this shit together.”

“Not tonight,” Carl said, and his tone dried my throat once again. “Tonight it will be Katie holding us together.” He smiled and it kicked up my heartrate. “Quite literally.”

Literally. I pictured the lube on the dressing table, the rope-like veins in Carl’s huge meaty dick, and wondered if I’d actually be able to take just him, never mind both of them. Oh fucking fuck.

Carl ordered his ice cream first. “Strawberry and chocolate,” he said. “Always a winning combination.” He took his cone and I could have combusted when he licked it, his eyes fierce on mine.

He was challenging me, challenging me to break and run. But no. No fucking chance.

I leaned into the counter and tried to look cool. “Double scoop strawberry,” I said. “Got to love a double serving.” I took a lick. “Yummy.” I winked at Carl and he actually smiled.

“Clever,” Rick said, “then I guess I’ll have the banana split, with chocolate sauce… and plenty of nuts,” he added.

Carl laughed, slapped him on the back, and his grin when he looked at me was a grin I’d never seen before. I’d held up to the pressure, I could see it in Carl’s eyes. Just a flash of admiration, or acceptance. I don’t really know what it was, but it thrilled me.

 

Sun and cocktails and ice cream and a quick change of clothes, and we were out again, grooving to the beat at Club Wave, a dance bar on the beach, with loud tunes and disco lights, and dry ice and drag queens. I was covered in black sequins, a backless dress that barely covered my ass and sparkled under the lights, twirling in heels with a pink glitter nail polish on my toes. And there was Rick, in a tight white tee, his hipster jeans showing off the v of his hips as he danced at my side with glow-bands around his wrists. Rick had moves. He pumped the air and he twirled, whooping as the bass picked up. Rick was hot, and alive, and free.

He pressed to my side, a hand on my waist, claiming me as his lips tickled my bare shoulder, and I wanted it. I wanted to be his.

The track changed, and it was one I knew, one I liked. I jumped on the spot, cocktail confident and ready to party, then slung my arms around Rick’s neck as he picked me up, spun me in his arms, only to drop me at Carl’s feet. The heat of Carl’s body sent shivers up my back. I tossed him a look over my shoulder, and he stepped closer, so close, the wall of his chest pressing against my bare skin.

He snaked his hand around my waist as Rick pressed into the front of me, and I moved with them, sandwiched between two firm bodies, Rick’s thigh between mine as he took hold of my hips and rocked to the beat. I stretched up my arms, and tipped my head back, and Rick’s lips landed on my collarbone, tickled me. Here we go. But I was ready, confident in my sparkly clothes, confident with the glow of alcohol in my belly. My outstretched arms reached back for Carl, my fingers finding the back of his neck and tangling in his hair. His hair was smooth, and soft, his skin warm.

His hand on my waist moved upwards, slowly, his fingers splayed against my ribs, and I sucked in breath as his fingertips reached the swell of my breast. Rick’s tongue bar felt so nice against the tenderness of my throat, and I smiled, angling my head back on Carl’s shoulder as he squeezed at my tit.

Yes.

His crotch pressed to the small of my back, and he felt even bigger there, a solid pole of hot fucking dick. The feel of him made me squirm, and I turned my face towards his, grinding my ass back at him.

Kiss me.

I was nervous, under the alcohol. Nervous enough that my tummy was a fluttery mess. The nerves lessened as Rick’s thigh pressed hard to my pussy, his hips rocking enough to feel just right.

I looked at Carl, his face so chiselled under the disco lighting, so at odds with the glitter and sparkle of this place.

Kiss me.

My eyes fluttered, then closed, my lips parted as Rick sucked at my neck, and then there was a ghost of stubble, Carl’s cheek against mine before he landed his lips at the corner of my mouth. I felt his fingers in my hair and he angled me further, eyes dark as he hovered, his lips just a whisper from mine.

Kiss me, just fucking kiss me.

And he did kiss me. His lips were hard, yet soft, demanding, yet teasing. His tongue was strong, pushing between my lips to hunt mine down, and we danced there, in my mouth, and we hit the same beat.

Hot breath, and hot hands, and Rick’s tense fucking thigh against my clit, and I squirmed, and writhed, my hands busy between two hot guys, two firm bodies, two soft heads of hair. My mouth busy between two hot mouths, two needy tongues, two men growing more insistent with every ragged breath. I coaxed Carl tighter to my back, circling my hips to tease his cock, and he thrust and ground and hitched me up against him, the length of him pressing into the crack of my ass as Rick pressed himself against my pussy.

Sandwiched. Pinned hard between two dicks. Two hard cocks straining to be inside me, and I wanted it. I wanted them.

My fingers became braver, ghosting Carl’s cheek as my body accustomed itself to the bulk of him. He still intimidated me, his steel still giving me shivers in the deep, dark depths of me, but I was coming to know him. And I was coming to like what I knew.

I focused back on our surroundings, on the hustle of bodies dancing all around us, and nobody was giving us a second glance, too caught up in their own groove. Men kissing men, men kissing women, women kissing women, a whole roomful of people feeling the beat and the heat and the promise of sex in the air. Rick’s beard tickled my shoulder, and I smiled.

Yes. Yes, I could do this.

I wanted to do this.

I tipped Rick’s face up and pressed my lips to his and I was smiling, and then I coaxed Carl forward, my hand around his neck, pulling him forward as I guided Rick back. Their lips met over my shoulder, and I liked it, I really liked it. Carl’s mouth opened first, and I watched so closely, loving the way his tongue pressed to Rick’s. I moved my pussy against Rick’s thigh and I watched them make out, guiding Rick’s hand to my tits to squeeze at me, pull at me, make me fucking tingle.

And then they looked at me, both of them, looked at me with their lips still glistening from their kiss, and their eyes were hungry and hooded, their gaze pointed.

I closed my eyes as two hot mouths came for mine, unsure of which tongue was whose as they tangled with mine. It was wet and messy and totally uncontrolled, disorienting me enough that I didn’t know whose hand was on my tits, or which guy was pinching my nipple until I wriggled.

I wasn’t sure whose fingers slipped between my legs and found my clit. Whose fingers slipped their way inside my thong and found me wet and desperate. Whose fingers slipped inside me and thrust to the beat of the music until I was panting against their open mouths and hissing out curses. “Fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck yes.”

“Dirty girl,” Carl rasped. “I love a girl with a filthy mouth.”

I wrapped my arms around their shoulders, and I smiled my way through the butterflies in my belly.

“This dirty girl is ready for bed,” I said. I looked at them, both of them, their eyes glinting hot under the party lights, and I knew what I wanted. “This dirty little girl is… ready.”

As ready as I’d ever be.