Page 12 of Rolling with my Best Friend's Brothers

I let it slide, I’m Beatrix. Never Bea, but I like it from him. “We don’t have to have sex to have fun.”

He lets me unfasten his pants but I walk him to the futon before lowering them. His erection tents his underwear. My heart skips a beat. This is going to be so much better than through the camera.

I peel his underwear down, push him backward, and kneel. His brothers respectfully scoot to the far ends.

His erection is so gorgeous, and I’ve seen more than a few. Time to learn…

Kissing my way up his legs, I love the way his muscles tense. I kiss his balls, and they tighten under my lips. His shaft twitches. I lick the salty pre-cum from his tip then kiss my way the rest of the way up his torso.

Straddling him, I’m exhilarated by how he feels between my legs. I’m stretched wide for him. My sex brushes against his. Our lips mesh as I tilt my hips and rub against his shaft. I’m driving myself to orgasm as fast as I’m driving him until his hands tighten around me, squeezing me against him so hard I can barely breathe. I can’t move. He’s pumping my body, taking control of me. Showing me how he’ll please me.

I let him have me as I fall apart and come against his cock. My sex begs to be full, but the warmth of his release sprays between us, slicking our bodies.

He whispers, “Thank you, Bea.”

I’m grateful that Mammoth and Gabriel, let us have this moment. Wyatt rolls me onto the pad and positions himself on his elbow beside me. He strokes a finger along my face. “Thank you for letting go.”

“You made it easy,” I say, but I’m wary of what he means. Does he know about my past, about my side of why I stay in control? I let the question fade a little more with each gentle stroke of his finger. I like being cared for.

“You’re always safe with us, Bea. We’re here for you.” He plants a kiss on my cheek.

The intimacy and affection his touch convey can never be accomplished in a camgirl session. Will I fine someone in real life—someone who’s not off limits— who I can let my guard down with, or is this just a terrible tease of what I’ll never have?

Or does he just feel sorry for me, the girl whose parents sucked?

Claustrophobia sets in as my protective walls spring back into place. “You don’t owe me anything. I’ve got the Hot Rollers. Us girls have each other’s backs.” A firm reminder that I’m a total jerk for doing this. I have to use them for educational purposes only.

He accepts a wet washcloth from Gabriel and wipes my belly. “It’s okay to let us care for you too.”

I can’t let that happen, but I can close my eyes and let my sleepiness push my worries to a later time. The patter of raindrops lulls me to sleep.

Nine

Wyatt

Gabriel and Mammoth are gone when I wake up. The light is still on, the rain has let up, and I spend several minutes staring at Beatrix. She’s so innocent and peaceful when she’s asleep. I almost don’t recognize her without the strong façade that’s present even when she’s having fun.

But I saw something vulnerable in her and I want to be there to protect it. An overeager thought in light of the way her body tensed when I said that we’re there for her.

Is it possible to keep this a secret? The increasingly uncomfortable tightness in my chest says no.

I need to know what my brothers are thinking. I pull the sheet up and tuck it around her. Grabbing my clothes, I head to my room, throw on a pair of sweats, then join my brothers in the kitchen where they’re standing around eating donuts.

“What time is it and how did you get to Sugar D’s?”

Mammoth—or are we calling him Mason now?— says, “You were only out for an hour. I placed an order and had them drive up to the tree and hand it over.”

“We need to get that tree out of the way.”

Gabriel is quick to say, “Not if it keeps Beatrix here. I’ll even turn on the faucet if it can keep the bridge flooded.”

“Yeah, I forgot about the bridge. We’ll deal with it tomorrow.” I scrub both hands over my face, then grab a Boston cream donut. The sweetness makes my mouth happy, but it’s nothing compared to how happy I feel thinking about Beatrix and taking care of her and not letting her go, even though I have no right to think that way.

Avery used to yell at us and remind us of the rules she printed before she’d have a friend over. Do not talk to my friends. Do not look at my friends. Do not laugh at jokes.

A curse of living at home for a while and then coming back to visit when we were on military leave. Her friends were too young for us, but that was a one-sided limit.

Beatrix spent a lot of time at our house. I was never fully informed about why, but I picked up that her family circumstances weren’t good. Our parents worked meals and snacks around Beatrix’s presence and gave her a lot of hand-me-downs from Avery well before our sister outgrew the clothes.

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