Page 139 of Saving Sparrow
His fingers were inside me but unmoving. I was the one fucking them. I almost slipped off his lap. I braced my forearms on the couch cushion, tensing as he grabbed hold of my hip.
“Fuck,”Quentin said as if he were in pain. “That’s a lot of precum, pretty girl. It’s dripping down my legs.” His fingers disappeared, the emptiness he left behind stealing my breath. I lifted my butt higher,seeking, and got a reprimanding smack on the ass for it. My forearms slid across the cushions as I flattened down on his lap from the blow.
“Unnngh!” My head snapped back, my hair tumbling down all around me.
“More, pretty girl?”
“Y-yes.” My body jerked from the pounding of Quentin’s hand, but I took it, wanting even more.
“That’s it, Ellie.” Miguel’s words of encouragement were hard to hear above the smacking sound.
“Harder?” Quentin asked.
“Yes!” I cried as Quentin’s fingers found the inside of my hole again. My body locked up.
“Oh no you don’t,” Quentin said. “My dick’s gonna be in that ass when you come, dirty girl.”
We’d moved the coffee table out of the way, and Quentin lifted me off him with ease, roughly situating me on all fours facing Miguel’s chair.
I’d been nervous I wouldn’t be able to handle Quentin, but it turned out I liked it rough too. I refused to go to bed now until I’d had both of them inside me at least once.
It was a partnership when Miguel and I had sex, but with Quentin, the only option was to fully submit. I craved both experiences.
Miguel knelt in front of me while Quentin poured lube over my clenching hole.
“More,” Miguel said to Quentin. “He’s always tight the first time, even when he’s had a good stretch.”
I whimpered as lube ran down my cleft and inner thighs. Miguel brushed his fingers down my sweaty cheek.
“It’s okay, Ellie,” he whispered. “Almost there. Quentin’s just slicking up his dick now.”
“Is he staring at you with that begging-for-dick look?” Quentin asked, one hand grabbing onto my hip.
“Yeah,” Miguel breathed, directing his cock to my open mouth, “he is.”
A rogue teardrop rolled down my cheek as his tip made contact with my tongue. Sometimes I’d cry during sex.
“It just… feels so good,”I’d said the first time they’d asked me about it.
“Remember to relax your throat,” Miguel whispered, feeding me his dick as Quentin shoved into me from behind.
“So,” Troy said, appearing out of thin air. Quentin had me and Miguel caged in against the lockers, taking turns kissing us while everyone who passed by pretended not to stare. Troy was the only one brave enough to actually interrupt us. “Do I get to gloat? Say I told you so?” He held his books to his chest, a smug smile on his face. He’d been the one to ask Quentin if we were a threesome at Darren’s house party, planting the idea in Quentin’s head.
“Not if you need your teeth to chew,” Quentin said dryly.
Troy laughed, clapping him on the back as he passed. “So violent.”
Miguel and I chuckled, too, but Quentin just rolled his eyes before leaning in again. He stiffened at the sound of Ballbuster’s snippy voice.
“How many times do I have to tell you that kissing in the halls is inappropriate, Mr. McAllen?”
Miguel and I straightened, but Quentin didn’t bother facing him when he replied. “Debbie Suck-’em-Down is swallowing Dickhead-Delaney’s unborn kids in the boys’ locker room, and you’re worried about a little kiss?”
“Language, Mr. McAllen! Or I’ll throw you in detention.”
Quentin snorted, turning around. “It’s the last day of school, Ballbuster.”
Ballbuster turned red at the use of his unwanted nickname. “Well, then,” he said with a smile too sweet to be real, “I’ll make sure none of you walk across that stage next week. Yes, I think that’s a fitting punishment for all the trouble you’ve given me over the years.” Ballbuster stormed off in the direction of the gym locker rooms.
