Chapter SEVENTEEN
Scherri
“Oh, Babe, I'm sorry I upset you.”
Jacket climbs off the sofa and comes to sit beside me, close enough to throw an arm around my shoulders. Close enough to lift a tear drop off my cheek with his agile finger. Close enough that the heady aroma of his masculinity fills my nostrils.
My eyes fly over to Stick, down the sofa from me and he moves up, just as close, to press into the other side of me. He places his arm around my shoulders also and Jacket flattens his palm on Stick's huge bicep. It's all very friendly and comforting.
Except my pussy is throbbing out a drum beat I can't ignore. And then Stick reaches his free hand to lift mine and pulls it across to rest on his thick thigh. I feel the tension flexing through the solid muscle. Then, just when I think I might unravel from being sandwiched tightly between two solid hunks of man flesh, the scent of their pheromones more intoxicating than Mr Greengross's rye, Jacket leans in. His chest crushes against my breast for an instant and he also picks up my hand. The one that was digging into my leg in an attempt to keep control over my pulsating clit.
He places my palm on his thigh, copying Stick's move exactly, then clamps it there, beneath his heavy one, pinning me. His is a little leaner than Stick's but no less rigid with powerful muscle mass. Ohmigod I can hardly catch a breath. The air has sucked out of the room and it's all I can do not to hitch and pant at what's left.
I'm squished between two gorgeous ripped men. Both hands lying across the hardest thighs I've ever felt and desperately trying not to become aware of how close two strapping dicks are to my palms. With my arms stretched out like this, their biceps nudge at the sides of my breasts and I just know, without having to glance down, that my nipples are sticking out like a pair of loaded bullets.
I can't bear it. The two sexy gods are being supportive and caring, and what am I doing? I'm sitting here imagining filthy thoughts of a cock in each of my hands. Of first one delicious hunk, then the other, leaning in and flipping a swollen breast out and twisting the nipple until the agony of need recedes. First one gorgeous head then the other tipping down to suck the point between his lips and nip with the edge of his teeth while he mounds the underside and shoves it up to his ravenous mouth.
I love Stick more than life itself. As if I don't feel guilty enough with what we're doing, sneaking around behind our parent's backs. Now I want more. At least in my fantasy. Of his ex-comrade stripping me bare and sucking my tit in his mouth.
Love doesn't mean you can't feel attraction. I'm young, I'm horny as fuck and love only makes that more intense. So why do I feel so hotly wrong about visualizing Jacket dropping to the floor between my knees and shoving my thighs wide with his heavy palms? Of him tearing my drenched panties to one side and shoving his tongue all the way into my pussy.
I know that Stick wants to take me in his arms, or kiss my cheek and tell me it's okay. Stone had a great life. He was loved by both of us more than any animal has ever been loved. And now his love has transferred to us two who are left, making it stronger. Stone will live forever in our love. But I guess Stick is worried that Jacket may let something slip to my mother if he finds out about our relationship. So he doesn't hold me and I just sit there, rigid in my filthy desperate lust. Guiltily dreaming of two strapping gods inside my body.
The heat rises in both men enough to melt my skin. I feel Stick's heart pummeling into my side, faster than I've ever felt him pump blood. Jacket's hand lifts from Stick's bicep to cup the back of my head and that's almost more sensual than the thought of him tugging up my tee shirt and licking his hot tongue across my tortured nipple.
It's not only my breath coming out in small gasps. Jacket is rasping out rapid breaths and Stick too hitches for air. It isn't my imagination, right? Could they be having the same thoughts? Of stripping me naked and sharing me? Of me being on my knees sucking Stick's huge cock while Jacket slaps his hands on my cheeks from behind then spreads me open to swipe his tongue across my pussy?
The three of us sit in complete stillness, the silence screaming through the electricity circling us. My cheeks burn hot with the desire licking at my edges and the thought that the two men might be having the exact same thoughts. Or maybe I'm deeply embarrassed by my dirty imagination.
And then Stick clears his throat, the husk of lust clear in his cough. The spell shatters.
“So I guess I better be heading out,” Jacket unclamps his hand from mine and I snatch it away as though he's on fire.
He lifts his arm from my shoulders and unfolds himself from the sofa and rises up, tall and powerful. His jeans are pegged even lower on his narrow hips so I can't fail to notice the line of ink across his pelvis, disappearing into – fuck, I have to stop thinking about that. I'm already in enough trouble here. But I know for sure he has a pretty significant bulge throbbing in there.
“Where are you going?” I half stutter.
Jacket looks down on me with a cocky smirk, like he's enjoying me being interested.
“I mean, it's late. Why don't you crash here?”
“Yeah, you can take the sofa for the night,” Stick agrees.
“Cool,” he gruffs. “Thanks.”
“Okay, see you in the morning then,” I say, desperate to get away from whatever electricity he's pushing out into the atmosphere.
Stick and I head upstairs and hear the sound of his Dad snoring. At least they've slept through whatever just happened. When we reach Stick's door, he opens it and when I turn to say goodnight, he drags me inside and kicks it closed.
He shoves me up against the inside and his hands come down against the wood on either side of my face. His huge barrel chest is up close so I'm caged in by him. His breath lands on my upper lip, rasping and raw.
“I need you, Scher. I need you right now.”
He doesn't wait for an answer. His mouth slams down onto mine, harder than ever before. Stick is a beast with his tongue, almost feral as he fucks my mouth and yanks my tee up so my tits bounce free. He mashes the flesh in his hands, tugging and twisting both nipples until I cry out. He slams a hand over my mouth and pulls my pants and underwear down at the same time with the other. His fingers probe into my slit, pulling it apart and pinching my swollen hard clit so I gasp under his stifling palm.
“Your fucking soaked, Scher,” he grits out.
And I don't know whether he's mad about that. Whether he thinks my slickness is partly due to Jacket. All I know is I need Stick buried all the way inside me more than I've ever needed anything in my life.
When he frees his dick, he immediately finds my dripping pussy mouth and my hands fly to his shoulders, clawing at the muscle as he thrusts into my hole and pummels me until barely moments later, we both go crashing over the edge.