Page 28 of Married to the Beasts
“Yeah, that feels good, babe,” he tells her. “You’re doing great, and you’ve got three of us to practice on.”
I lick circles around her clit, slowly at first, until she sighs with pleasure. When I flick my tongue over it fast, she comes apart again. Her surprised-soundingoh!alerts me that Conal’s coming too. I keep licking, wanting to bring her off again, but after a minute, Rafe nudges me aside for a turn.
Conal has a wet cloth and is wiping Hazel’s hand. After he kisses her, she looks at me with a flicker of shyness, and asks, “Want to go next?”
I’m going to be lucky if I last more than a minute.Fuck.Everything about her turns me on like nothing has in a long time.
Conal and I have a tendency to butt heads, especially over creative decisions and band commitments, but I agree wholeheartedly with his impulsive decision to put a ring on Hazel’s finger.
As I kneel beside her on the bed, she looks up at me through her thick lashes. When I realize she’s not going to make the first move, I start to unbuckle my belt and am pleased when she reaches over to help.
I take her hand in mine and place it squarely on the bulge in my jeans, even though it’s torture to have her touching me. At first, she just rests her palm there, but when she starts to stroke over me and squeeze, I have to grit my teeth.
After I open my zipper, she slides her hand inside, touches me through my briefs, then hesitantly pulls down the waistband as I shove my jeans down my hips.
Her expression as my cock is unleashed is nearly enough to make me come. She doesn’t speak, but her eyes say a lot.
Conal appears with a bottle of lube. “Hold out your hand,” he tells her.
She rubs the lotion in her hands, then takes hold of me. “I think I need both hands,” she says, and I laugh, if only to distract myself from how good it feels to have her touch me.
“Take your time and explore,” I tell her. “I’ll let you know what feels best.” She does, and I do, and though her explorations help me last longer, when she finally starts tugging on me in earnest, it’s not long before I issue a warning. “I’m gonna come.”
She keeps stroking, keeping up a steady pace, pulling on me with just the right amount of pressure, and I let loose what’s been building up all day.
I don’t think a hand job has ever felt so good or brought out such a powerful release.
“That was amazing,” I tell her when I’m able, and her eyes glow with pride. I wipe her hands with a fresh cloth and pull her close. “Thank you.”
She smiles sweetly and says, “Anytime.” It’s a dangerous offer.
Rafe has his turn, Conal and I work together to give Hazel one more orgasm for the night, then Conal pulls the splattered comforter off the bed.
“We made a mess.” Hazel sounds concerned.
“Will you be warm enough with just the sheet?” he asks her, and she nods quickly.
“I know you’ll all keep me warm.”
And we do.
BRON
In the morning, I wake up as Conal’s getting out of bed. He gestures for me not to disturb Hazel, who’s still sleeping soundly, so I slide out of bed and follow him out of the bedroom.
“It would be good if we can get an early start,” he says, his voice still thick from sleep. I nod, grab my stuff, and head to a bathroom in one of the nearby unused bedrooms. A lot of bands don’t hit the studio until the afternoon or evening, but we like to work first and play later; that’s how we grew up.
In the shower, as soon as my soapy hand makes contact with my dick, my brain helpfully imagines that it’s Hazel’s hand there.
She was so eager last night, so sincere in her actions; her only motivation was to make us feel good. Ican’t wait to show her more new things, and my gut tells me she’ll be willing to play some of my favorite games once she’s had more experience.
In bed, her ass was pressed against me at one point, and I have no idea how I managed to go back to sleep. The softness and fullness of that particular part of her body fills my mind as I yank on my dick. Rubbing one out is my only hope for being able to stay focused today, at least for a few hours.
Before I go downstairs, I check on Hazel and find she’s still sleeping. There’s a smile on her lips, and I hope she’s dreaming about us.
Rafe’s out of bed, and somehow beats me downstairs. I find him and Conal in the kitchen, drinking coffee and raiding a platter of pastries. As we head into the studio, arms full of water bottles, coffee, and said pastries, Conal says, “A song came to me last night.”
Rafe and I exchange a look, neither of us surprised. Conal writes most of our lyrics, and his creativity ebbs and flows, as it does for all of us, but someone like Hazel could definitely light a spark.
