It felt so domestic. His greeting, asking about our day, coming in from outside as if he cooked for me every day. There was an odd familiarity about being together in such a weirdly casual way. Especially since we’d only ever interacted at the club, or when Obi or Ryker came to the hotel for meetings.
“It was amazing!” I smiled at him, and then at Ryker. “I am so blown away by his talent. And the new pieces. God they feel sohimbut they’re him on this totally different level from anything I’ve seen of his out in the world.”
Armel tilted his head in question, eyebrow raised. Given Armel didn’t interact with his art on a day to day basis, he must not see or possibly recognize the evolution of his work.
“She was such a good girl too.” Obi’s voice gusted over me like a mid-summer breeze, raising gooseflesh on my skin. “She wouldn’t let me remove her plug. Because Ryker told her it had to stay in untilallof us were together.”
Obi tsked, Ryker winked at me, but Armel looked absolutely beside himself.
“It’s been almost twenty-four hours with that thing in. Little Cub, you’re going to hurt yourself.” He squared my shoulders so he could look at me head on. “Would you like me to take it out before we have dinner? We have about twenty minutes before I need to go back and check on things.”
They didn’t leave me an option to answer. Before I could tell them I was fine, that I didn’t even notice it in anymore other than the ache that Obi had built, I was up on their kitchen counter. All three vocalizing sympathetic sighs and moans while Armel gently folded my dress up, and Ryker divested me entirely of the panties holding the plug in place.
“You smell heavenly.” Armel squat directly in front of my spread legs, running his nose up my thighs to where the plug protruded. “Ryker, how on earth were you able to stand watching Obi play with her, and not want to taste this?”
“You heard her. We put it in her together, we get a piece of the reward,together.”
It was obscene. Hearing them talk about how my pussy smelled and sharing a taste of me. Whenever they talked about me as if I weren’t there, it twisted my core. Suddenly I felt overdressed. With they way they worshipped me with their praise, made me desperate to display myself for them. To shuck off my wrap dress, pull my tits out over the balconette bra that held them in, and just be open for their use in any way they deemed fit. Their fuck toy, their pet, or the wildling they ran after in the woods. However they wanted to use me, I wanted it all.
Ryker pressed between my thighs, sharing the space with Armel. He mirrored Armel’s path up my left thigh, taking a slow journey toward the pussy that Armel nibbled on.
“Look how gloriously furry she’s become in three short weeks. So soft and lush, I want to rub my face in it until I get lost.” Armel’s voice sounded muffled as he continued to lave my slit, and lick around the plug they’d yet to remove.
“Pet, you make us so proud. Look at how well you have followed directions. A womanly forest between your legs, ripe, smelling of our cum. A plug holding our gifts deep in you, pressing that magic juice right where it needs to be in order to turn into offspring.”
Obi finally took hold of the plug, twisting it inside of me, instead of removing it like I thought he would. That twist of the silicone pressed against my insides lighting everything up into a sea of fireworks that drown me with animalistic craving. My legs opened to an obscene width I cradled my knees against my breasts in “present.”
“Would you look at that?” His voice, heavy with desire, trilled in surprise. “Someone has gone intopresentwithout us even asking for it.”
He pulled the breeding plug out of me, just to the tip, and pressed it back in again. The motion turning both men who squatted between my legs into rabid beasts who both licked at the flood of desire trickling out of me. There was no part of my slit that missed attention from either tongue lapping me into a whirring ball of energy. The sensations so intense, I no longer could distinguish one tongue from the other.
“Do I punish you for attempting to top from the bottom or reward you for giving me what you knew I would ask for?” His fingers joined the two tongues, manipulating my clit between the pads of his fingers.
We hadn’t discussed rules for play. No one had told me if I could come whenever I felt the need to or if I was supposed to hold on. But my orgasm hung in my periphery, a devilish grin on it’s imagined face, twirling its mustache, and cackling with maniacal delight. It was going to crest whether or not I wanted it to.
“Come.” I barely worked out, my breath getting caught and my voice giving away halfway through the word.
“Are you asking or telling, Sweet Thing?” Ryker bit the inside of my thigh.
“P-p-lease.” My voice shook with effort to contain the explosion peeking over the horizon.
“No.” Obi spanked my clit hard. The shock of it breaking the last vestige of control and I exploded with such sensation, deafening force, that the plug which barely hung from my pussy, shot out of my cunt. Where it went? Who fucking cared.
Despite Obi saying no, he joined in the feast, each pressing another out of the way as they mauled my cunt like hyenas fighting over a fresh kill. Too many sensations. The subtle tickle of being breathed in, the vicious sensitivity of my clit being sucked, licked, and rubbed, even mid orgasm they had it building on top of itself. A tongue fucked into and out of my pussy while another tickled against my asshole. But what sent me over, truly over, to a plane of bliss I’d never visited before, was the thought of the three of their tongues brushing against one another in a perverse three-way-kiss.
seventeen
Every timeI looked across the firepit at Miele, herface was burrowed in the soft pile of the hoodie I bought her. It had to be a subconscious action. But every so often I’d catch her doing it, exhaling on a soft sigh.
“I haven’t had a crawfish boil like this in…I can’t even remember the last time I did. High school maybe? Certainly not since coming back home.” Miele handed Obi her plate, licking her fingers clean. “God I forgot how fucking good it is.”
You know what was good? Spending the last two hours circled around our firepit, shooting the shit and justexisting. No games, noplaytime—just the four us doing something completely normal. Having dinner, shooting the shit, enjoying the peace of a crackling fire and the hum of the crickets and toads.
“How long did you live here before?” I asked. I couldn’t remember her telling us her origin story in the times we’d spent together.
“Oh I’m Creole born and raised.” Her accent changed, thickened, into the lilting French/English of high born Louisianans. “Grew up in Marigny. Chantilly from the Club was my neighborhood friend growing up.”
“NYU for college?” Ryker asked. I forgot that was why she moved east. She became a club member because of my friend’s husband, Casey.