impossible to feel uncomfortable around Riley. He was full of humor and
so relaxed I couldn’t help but follow his lead. “You want to have a swim with
us, Lace? There’s a spectacular view from the roof.”
It was strange how we all felt so familiar, already. I
guess orgasms have a way of bringing people together like that. “Roof?”
“There’s a pool up there,” Nate said. “Come on.” He
grabbed the bottle of champagne but didn’t bother with the glasses. At the
insistent tug of Riley’s hand, which still held mine, I followed them.
They were right: the view was outstanding.
And there was no one else up there. Nate, noticing a
lock on the door to the pool area, closed it and locked it. The sound of that
lock clicking into place had a strange effect on me. I was alone with them.
No one could see us or interrupt us. It seemed almost odd to me that I felt no
fear, not a shred of trepidation. Only excitement. I wasn’t afraid of these
Texans, not at all. Quite the opposite. They’d shown me only kindness,
generosity and, despite the impulsiveness of the scenario, respect. And I
intended to respect them right back. I intended to respect them right over the
edge.
Nate took a swig of champagne from the bottle and
offered it around. Then, as I watched, he stripped off his jeans and his
t-shirt. His body was nothing short of spectacular. Brawny but not overly
so. Perfectly sculpted. Muscular but not over the top. Supremely-strong-looking
and dark-skinned, like he was part Cherokee or something equally exotic. He
wore black, tight-fitting boxer briefs. In the low, flickering light of the open-aired
pool area, I could see that his physical perfection extended in every
direction, and to every proportion. He was amazingly masculine, and hard.
Everywhere. The tight fit of his boxer briefs outlined an example of male
endowment that literally made my mouth water.
I wished I could see him. All of him.
He dove into the pool.
“You’re drooling,” Riley teased, elbowing me gently as
he watched me watch Nate. It was crazy and beautiful, the way he wasn’t
jealous. It was understood: we were all this together, the three of us. We
could feel it and we had already accepted that that was the way this – whatever this was – would play out. Riley, clearly, was open to whatever direction
I wanted this night to take. “You’ll get some of that, don’t worry. But
first, some of this.”
With that, Riley kissed me again. He tasted of
champagne. His lips were soft, his tongue intimate, insistent. His mouth
played my own, wetly, and his tongue parted me, entering me in slow, deliberate
glides. Like his fingers had. My body remembered. As his tongue played me,
my sex began to dew. My ass felt rounded and full. My breasts were soft,
wanting and aching as my nipples tightened. I wanted him to bite me there, to
suck me and lick me.
“I’m going to take your dress off. You don’t want to
swim in it, do you?” His fingers were at the hem, pulling the cotton away from
my hot skin, not waiting for me to answer him. I welcomed the soothing effects
of a light breeze on my skin as he tossed my dress onto a chair.
“Your hair looks white-gold in the darkness,” he
whispered. “Your body is so fucking gorgeous, Lacey. You’re the most
beautiful girl.”
His fingers roved, skating lightly across my hips and
my stomach. He was teasing me. I was hot, feverishly so. My pussy was
silkily wet, and throbbing lightly. I wanted to come again. But not yet. To
know that I could , just from the touch of Riley’s fingers, made me feel
more womanly than I ever had. I could come and I would, but I could take it
slower this time, and bring both of them along for the ride.
Riley’s fingers circled my nipples, centering, pinching
in little tugging pulls. I almost moaned, but his fingers moved. Lower. To
my ass. He
so relaxed I couldn’t help but follow his lead. “You want to have a swim with
us, Lace? There’s a spectacular view from the roof.”
It was strange how we all felt so familiar, already. I
guess orgasms have a way of bringing people together like that. “Roof?”
“There’s a pool up there,” Nate said. “Come on.” He
grabbed the bottle of champagne but didn’t bother with the glasses. At the
insistent tug of Riley’s hand, which still held mine, I followed them.
They were right: the view was outstanding.
And there was no one else up there. Nate, noticing a
lock on the door to the pool area, closed it and locked it. The sound of that
lock clicking into place had a strange effect on me. I was alone with them.
No one could see us or interrupt us. It seemed almost odd to me that I felt no
fear, not a shred of trepidation. Only excitement. I wasn’t afraid of these
Texans, not at all. Quite the opposite. They’d shown me only kindness,
generosity and, despite the impulsiveness of the scenario, respect. And I
intended to respect them right back. I intended to respect them right over the
edge.
Nate took a swig of champagne from the bottle and
offered it around. Then, as I watched, he stripped off his jeans and his
t-shirt. His body was nothing short of spectacular. Brawny but not overly
so. Perfectly sculpted. Muscular but not over the top. Supremely-strong-looking
and dark-skinned, like he was part Cherokee or something equally exotic. He
wore black, tight-fitting boxer briefs. In the low, flickering light of the open-aired
pool area, I could see that his physical perfection extended in every
direction, and to every proportion. He was amazingly masculine, and hard.
Everywhere. The tight fit of his boxer briefs outlined an example of male
endowment that literally made my mouth water.
I wished I could see him. All of him.
He dove into the pool.
“You’re drooling,” Riley teased, elbowing me gently as
he watched me watch Nate. It was crazy and beautiful, the way he wasn’t
jealous. It was understood: we were all this together, the three of us. We
could feel it and we had already accepted that that was the way this – whatever this was – would play out. Riley, clearly, was open to whatever direction
I wanted this night to take. “You’ll get some of that, don’t worry. But
first, some of this.”
With that, Riley kissed me again. He tasted of
champagne. His lips were soft, his tongue intimate, insistent. His mouth
played my own, wetly, and his tongue parted me, entering me in slow, deliberate
glides. Like his fingers had. My body remembered. As his tongue played me,
my sex began to dew. My ass felt rounded and full. My breasts were soft,
wanting and aching as my nipples tightened. I wanted him to bite me there, to
suck me and lick me.
“I’m going to take your dress off. You don’t want to
swim in it, do you?” His fingers were at the hem, pulling the cotton away from
my hot skin, not waiting for me to answer him. I welcomed the soothing effects
of a light breeze on my skin as he tossed my dress onto a chair.
“Your hair looks white-gold in the darkness,” he
whispered. “Your body is so fucking gorgeous, Lacey. You’re the most
beautiful girl.”
His fingers roved, skating lightly across my hips and
my stomach. He was teasing me. I was hot, feverishly so. My pussy was
silkily wet, and throbbing lightly. I wanted to come again. But not yet. To
know that I could , just from the touch of Riley’s fingers, made me feel
more womanly than I ever had. I could come and I would, but I could take it
slower this time, and bring both of them along for the ride.
Riley’s fingers circled my nipples, centering, pinching
in little tugging pulls. I almost moaned, but his fingers moved. Lower. To
my ass. He
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