I want to forget every second I ever spent with him. I want to feel how much I’m loved for real this time.
I want to feel kind hands on my body. I want to feel kisses that give, not kisses that take.
I want them. The only two men who’ve ever counted.
I need to know I’m still theirs and they’re mine, and words aren’t enough.
Words will never be enough now I know how easily a random guy like Kevin Baker could speak whatever he wanted in my ear.
I’m still in their arms as I press my lips to Jack’s neck. Michael is still pressed to my back as I reach for him.
Jack doesn’t respond at first as I kiss my way up to his jawline. He breathes and strokes my hair but doesn’t kiss me.
“Carrie, you don’t have to,” he begins, but I know.
I tell him so.
“Love me,” I whisper and it sounds so hollow. “I need to know you love me. I need to know you still want me. Both of you.”
“We should call the police,” Jack says, and I know we have to, but it can wait, just a little while. I tell him that, too.
It’s Michael who gathers my hair into a ponytail and kisses the back of my neck. It’s his lips that replace my frightened shivers with better ones.
“Whatever you need,” he whispers, and I finally come to know how much these past few weeks have changed all of us.
There’s a rawness to his words that speak to my soul. A tenderness in his touch that’s outside any guideline he holds himself to at work every day.
He’s more than his job. He’s more than the lines they make him colour inside.
“I need you,” I whisper. And I do.
I do need them.
I need them both like I need air.
Jack reaches for my arm and takes my bruised wrist in his hand. He presses it to his mouth as though he can kiss it all away, and maybe he can.
His tongue feels so good against my tender skin.
Mike tugs at my hair enough to tip my head back, and his mouth finds mine and kisses deep.
His fingers slip inside my top and his strokes across my nipples drive me crazy.
More crazy.
Jack pulls off his tie and unbuttons his shirt. He kisses my fingers and guides them to his belt, and I help him unbuckle himself, before he helps me out of my jeans.
Michael tugs my top over my head and pulls my bra off with it. I’m naked in a heartbeat with my legs around Jack’s waist. His cock is big against my belly and it’s a relief.
To know he still wants me like this is a relief.
I twist to help Michael out of his suit, but he’s already mostly there. He sits back on the wrecked sofa and guides me half on top of him, and then tugs at Jack’s arm to beckon him closer.
Jack shuffles next to Michael and I straddle the middle of them. A thigh against each dick as I rise to my knees.
It’s the most natural thing in the world to present my tits to two hungry mouths. I pull my shoulders back proud, as proud as I’ll ever be, offering myself up exactly as I am to the two men who mean so much.
I love the way they suck and nip. I love the way the sounds of their mouths match the squelches from their dicks as they take themselves in hand.
Tonight’s the night I want them both inside me. Tonight’s the night I need to feel them both make me theirs at the same time.
“Let us see you,” Mike whispers and I don’t understand at first. He stares up at me through hooded eyes and gestures me to stand for them.
I’m so nervous as I get to my feet. So naked in my vulnerability as I stand tall for two pairs of hungry eyes.
“Beautiful,” Jack whispers, and picks up pace on his dick.
“Perfect,” Michael adds and my cheeks burn.
It’s amazing to watch them there, watching me.
I shift my thighs apart and dip my fingers between them. I’ve never felt so exposed in my dirtiness as I do right now, standing all alone as their eyes rove all over me, from the wetness they’ve left on my tits, to the wetness I’m dribbling between my legs.
But they love me.
I can see it in their gaze, in their expressions, in the way they work their dicks as though just the sight of me is everything.
“We’re really doing this,” Michael rasps. “The three of us, forever.”
It sounds like more of a question than a statement.
Jack answers it.
“We’re really doing this,” he says. “The three of us. Always the three of us.”
A look passes between them that I can’t read, but hope one day I will. A look that reminds me how these guys have known each other their whole entire lives, how they’ve shared decades before I was even born.
“Just bodies,” Michael rasps, and my breath hitches.
He lifts his hand from his thigh and hovers it between them, and I can’t breathe, can’t even think.