Page 3 of Puck it Off

An unlady-like snort escapes my lips, thinking about how I'd like to give it to him.

What am I thinking? I don't act this way.

When my ex-boyfriend, Ted, wanted to watch me have sex with another guy, I told him to go to hell. But now all I can think about is having sex with one of them while the other two watch or having sex with all three of them at the same time.

Damn you, Aubree, for telling me how great it is to be worshipped by three guys at the same time.

I curse my best friend, even though I'm secretly jealous of her unconventional relationship with her three hockey players.

Attacking Zander's shoulders with more force than I probably should, I knead his skin harder and deeper as he moans, causing my hips to roll each time I press down on his body. I work my hands down his arms and across his back, moving lower and lower until I reach the top curve of his ass. My hands stop moving as I suck in a deep breath. This is way more intense than I realized it would be.

Moving to the foot of the table, I lift the sheet, exposing his muscular legs, and bite back a groan.

How is a girl supposed to concentrate when faced with this much perfection?

Slipping back into my professional mode, I continue the massage, running my hands up and down each leg, adding more oil as I work the tension out of his body.

"Fuck, Maggie. Your hands feel incredible on my body." Zander moans in such a sexual way that my leggings dampen, and my clit pulses with need.

Seriously, what is wrong with me? I'm a professional who's acting like she's in heat. Get it together, Maggie.

"Flip over." I manage to say as my body overheats from the skin-to-skin contact.

"You forgot my glutes." Zander points out as I lift the sheet slightly to keep him covered but still give him room to roll onto his back.

"Next time," I say before realizing I've just agreed to massage him again.

"You better believe there's going to be a next time." With a lazy grin he flips onto his back, shifting the sheet to give me a glimpse of his gorgeous penis again.

I've never thought of a penis as being gorgeous before I met Zander—I wonder if Reece and Owen's cocks are just as beautiful.

My eyes drift to where they're sitting on the floor with their backs against the wall, a look of undisguised hunger shining back at me.

Could I really go through with it if they all wanted me?

Aubree does it. Why can't I?

Maybe it's the wine talking, even though I only had one sip or the heat of their desire radiating off them, but I think I want whatever they're willing to give me.

With my mind made up, I squirt some more of the oil in my hand, rubbing my hands together to warm it up before sliding them under the sheet, landing on Zander's thick, hard cock. I watch his eyes flare wide as he realizes what I'm doing. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what's happening under the sheet when he moans.

Owen and Reece jump up and rush over to the massage table. "Are you really jacking him off?" Owen asks, his eyes never leaving my face, as I slide the sheet off of Zander's body with one of my hands.

"Fuck me. Are you going to take care of us the same way or only let us watch?" Reece has already moved behind my body, pushing his hard cock against my ass.

Damn, why is Zander the only one with his clothes off?

I lean back into Reece's arms, never breaking contact with Zander's cock as I stroke him from root to tip. I watch Owen grab the oil and squeezes a drop into Reece's hand before that same hand disappears down the front of my leggings and slides between my thighs to my soaked pussy.

Owen disappears from my sight for a few seconds before returning with a pair of bandage scissors that look suspiciously like the ones, I keep on the counter by the massage table in case I need to use the athletic tape to wrap someone's ankle or wrist.

Maybe they are sexy serial killers, after all.

Before I can dwell on that thought for too long, Owen asks, "Can I cut off your sports bra? Your breasts look painful, squished in it." All I can do is nod. It's all the permission he needs as he slices through the fabric, freeing my breast to the warm air. "How about these leggings? They look tight, too."

I nod again, giving him permission to basically tear my clothes off of my body. He carefully cuts through the elastic on the waistband of my leggings on each hip before setting the scissor down and ripping my leggings on each side from hip to ankle, leaving me completely naked to their lustful gazes—Zander from his spot on the massage table, Reece from over my shoulder, and Owen on my right side.

The sex goddess in me loves the attention, but the shy band nerd inside of me knows they're way out of my league. But that small part of me still believes in fairytales and happily ever after makes me hope this might be the real thing.

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