Victoria’s Secret Wish(81)

He wanted to say her name, but she’d gag him–would it be all that bad? Yes, because then he couldn’t suck her, lick her, kiss her–so he thought it. Vic, Vic. He was with her again, and wouldn’t mess it up this time. And Britt… Britt had slouched in his chair, was loosening his belt. Oh, fuck. He shouldn’t want that, shouldn’t enjoy seeing another dude’s cock, but it made him so fucking hot, the raw wrongness of liking it, of needing it. Britt’s gaze met his and he knew.

“Take it out, Britt,” Vic demanded.

Did she know too? Jesus, would she quit sucking his neck to watch them? No, she was still at his neck. She just knew things. Always wanted to run the show, didn’t she? He’d see about that. He lifted up, stood, holding her around his waist. Her ass felt fine in his hands.

“Over there.” She pointed at the carpet.

Not in the living room, not when he was here to show them what they meant to him. He headed toward the master bedroom.

“I said–”

He caught her lips with his, saw her flashing green eyes. Slipped her the tongue.

“Mmfm.” Then her eyes closed, and she kissed back. And moaned into his mouth, her hands kneading his shoulders, the back of his neck, her crotch hot and damp against him.

Vic, Vic.

She slid one hand down behind her, clutched his cock and balls. Oh, hell. Oh, yeah. “Over there on the floor,” she broke away to say. “Now.”

She must have a plan, like always. Why should he mess it up? Besides, she had a pretty tight grip on his nads.

When he stopped where she’d pointed, she slid down the front of him, and peeled his shorts down to his ankles. Naked, right in front of both of them–who were fully dressed. As she rose, trailing her tongue along the inside of one leg, he knew… He hoped… Yes. She stopped at his cock, close enough he could feel her breath on it.

“Lie down on your back.”

None of that kneeling in front of him, worshipping his cock. Did that mean something?

He complied with Vic’s orders, careful to lie so he could see Britt, whose pants were off, his shirt unbuttoned. His feet bare. And yes, he had his cock in hand.

Fire officially stoked.

He was missing Vic’s show. She’d stripped off her clothes and now moved over him, doggie-style. Without a word, she grabbed his cock and went down. Hot, wet, tight mouth pulling, milking…her shiny-wet, musky pussy right above his face. He grasped her hips, pulled her down. Sixty-nine. Yeah, baby. Her whimper told him she liked it too. God, he wouldn’t last long. It was all so perfect–he had to think of something else so he could last this time. Think, think…pussy. Slick, hot…oh fuck, he’d never last this way.

“Britt!” She gasped, and raised her ass.

No way.

Britt straddled him, too, right behind Vic. He couldn’t eat her anymore, but oh, what a show… Britt’s healthy cock sliding inside her pussy, right where his tongue had just been. Pulling out, glistening. She’d quit sucking, gripping him with her hands, one on his cock, the other on his balls. His entire world was the vision of their sexes above him, the smells, the sound of Britt slip, slipping in and out, in and out, Vic whimpering with pleasure. He wanted it to go on and on… But he felt it coming, tensed. Vic squealed and he groaned, and Britt thrust into her with a growl. As hot jets spurted across his belly, he saw Britt’s nuts suck inside, watched Vic’s legs tighten.

When they all relaxed, he saw Vic straighten upright, turn, and kiss Britt. Heard the sound of their lips meeting, parting.

He’d come all over himself, while they’d had sex. And when they were done, she’d kissed Britt.

“I love you.” She whispered it to Britt, but there was no doubt she intended him to hear it, too. “I’m gonna go shower. David, it was fun. I think you’re in Room Twenty-four over at the hotel.”

When she’d left the room, he said, “We still didn’t talk.”

“I’d say you’ve bigger concerns just now. Like cleaning yourself up?” Britt sat on the floor, looking down at him. “Guest loo’s through there.”

Christ, if he’d known he’d be spooging all over himself, he’d have gotten a towel or shirt or something, like when he was alone.

Which he apparently still was.

In the bathroom, he’d used tissues to clean up most of the mess when Britt turned on the faucet and tossed him a washcloth from a drawer.

“You know she’s making a point, right?”

He met Britt’s gaze in the mirror. Should be weird for him to be in there too, but he had bigger concerns. “Yeah?” Fuck, he felt all shaky, and a little sick to his stomach.