“Move over.”
I do as he orders and he climbs in beside me, rolling me on my side. At my back I feel the king bed dip and then the warm body of Michigan snuggling up against me. He draws some of my hair away from my sweaty neck and back while Easy lies down in front of me.
“Are we going to sleep?” I ask uncertainly.
“No, but Michigan took you hard and I know you’re going to be sore tomorrow so we’re going to fuck nice and slow this last time tonight. Tomorrow we’ll cook you breakfast and send you home with a present.”
“What kind of present?”
“The kind that will make you wet and horny and have you running back to our bed,” Easy answers and raises my leg to hang over his hip. I’m still wet and slippery and there’s almost no resistance when Easy’s broad head nudges my entrance. But once his head is inside me, I wonder how the rest of it’s going to fit, even after Michigan worked me over.
“It’s going to feel real good,” Easy says soothingly. He reads the panic that had raced across my face. Behind me Michigan is squeezing my shoulders and running a finger down the center of my spine. I shiver and move closer to Easy. He’s got a little more hair than Michigan. His chest has a sprinkling of short, curled light brown hair which thickens near his penis. It feels both soft and scratchy against my skin.
His hand captures a breast and teases the nipple into a taut point. He moves to the other breast, closest to the bed, and then Michigan reaches around and suddenly I have two hands on my body but they belong to different men. The sensation is strange and wonderful.
Easy’s face as he pushes inside is a far cry from his smiles and winks. His nostrils flare wide and all traces of laughter have been replaced with serious intent. The veins of his neck are strained. His eyes eat me up and then he pushes forward and we both moan. Michigan braces my hips from behind as Easy inches inside. He feels enormous and I fear I might split in two from his possession. But he doesn’t rush me and after long moments of incremental progress, he finally reaches the end.
Easy huffs out a half laughter, half moan as he fully encases his shaft. I swear I can feel his blood pulse along the entire length. It’s like his very heart is inside me, pounding out the words of his lust.
He claims my mouth and we kiss in long, lazy, languid caresses as he slowly moves his thick shaft in deep strokes. We’re barely moving. Whereas the thrusts of Michigan shook the bed and me, Easy’s glides shift my hips in small movements but the effect is as devastating.
My sensitive breasts are crushed against his chest and his mouth devours mine. Michigan rubs his hands over every exposed inch of me. I feel surrounded by their attention and care.
The orgasm builds as leisurely as our joining. Easy’s penis is no longer stretching me but filling me. The musk of our joining fills the air and our sweaty bodies slide against one another in a steady rhythm. I can feel the pleasure coiling inside as each pass of his penis against my swollen tissues winds the spiral of delight tighter and tighter.
I grind against him and Michigan helps, pushing me closer to Easy until we are so intimately clasped that we are one body. I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine.
The words of Solomon spin through my mind as Easy loves me with his body. He grips me to him and I feel the muscles in his shoulders bunch under my fingers as he spurts his release in long heavy ropes. The warm fluid spurs my own release and as the pleasure overtakes me, I shatter into tiny pieces only to find that four hands hold me as I fall.
Easy murmurs tenderly in my ear that I felt so good, better than any he’s ever had. Michigan rubs my back as I shudder with the aftershocks of the ecstasy they’ve wrought. I’m too wrecked to move when Easy peels away from me. His laughter is back and amused but satisfied masculine voices exchange words I’m too exhausted to make out. Footsteps pad against the hardwood floor. Water turns on and then off. A warm cloth is pressed between my legs and a cool one is stroked across my forehead.
“We wore her out,” Michigan comments gruffly.
“There’s still morning sex,” Easy replies. I can hear the smile in his voice.
Groaning, I stretch my legs and feel a tug on muscles and tendons I didn’t know existed. For the moment, as amazing as sex with both of them was, I can’t imagine another bout. The two crawl in on either side of me. One flips a television on and the other hauls me close to his side. By the smell, I know it’s Michigan.
“How is it someone as gorgeous as you is a virgin?” Easy asks.
“Oh, a lot of reasons,” I answer softly, snuggling into the warmth surrounding me. “I was a really awkward kid and by sixth grade taller than almost every male. I wore dowdy clothes and my father is Pastor Bloom. He’s very strict. I had to be home when I didn’t have school activities and my circle of approved friends was rather small. My rebellions were watching television shows that he didn’t approve of, not drinking behind the football bleachers.”