32
What are we doing?
“Turn over,” he says, as he removes his clothing nearly as quickly as he did mine. I move onto all fours, and he tugs me toward the edge of the bed, where’s he in a perfect position to —
“Oh, hell yeah!” I cry, as he pushes deep inside my pussy in one smooth stroke. He takes me like he’s desperate for me, and it’s so fucking hot.
His cock pistons in and out of me, his body slamming against mine, his hand gripping my hip to keep me in place. The man definitely has some stamina.
He goes at me for a nice, long time, tapping a spot deep inside me, getting me off again before he stiffens.
“Oh, fuck!” he cries. He pulls out of me and pushes my shirt up, scrunching the fabric toward my head. I’m confused by his actions until I feel a jet of hot cum land on my back. Then another.
I turn to see his face, twisted in that familiar look of blissful agony. He continues to release on me, until he finishes with a final shudder.
“I’m sorry, Christine. I can’t believe I forgot to use a condom.”
“It’s okay. I forgot too.” I have a box in my nightstand and I never gave them a thought.
“Hang on, I’ll get a towel,” Jay says before disappearing and returning moments later. “I grabbed a hand towel. Is that okay?”
When I nod and tell him it’s fine, he very gently and carefully cleans me up, such a contrast to his pleasingly rough actions earlier.
“Still can’t believe I did that,” Jay mutters. “I got out in time, though.”
I turn over and sit on the bed when he’s finished. The abrupt ending has me feeling empty and off kilter.
It’s odd how a crazy part of me has been wishing that the Hayes brothers would come inside me, and now Jay nearly did. It’s different with him, though. Complicated. Much more real.
“What are we doing, Jay?”
He’d been folding up the towel, but stops to look at me. “What do you mean?”
“What are we doing?” I repeat, waving my hand to gesture at the bed and at us.
“Well,” he says, leaning down, the weight of his arm indenting the mattress, “you’re making me feel amazing, and I hope I’m doing the same for you.”
“You are, but is this really a good idea?” I ask.
He straightens. “I don’t know. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug a shoulder and look down at the blanket. “It just seems … complicated.”
“Because my friends are involved?”
“No, though I still can’t figure out how you’re okay sharing me with them. You’d have never done that when we were younger.” I draw my knees up and wrap my arms around my legs.
Jay sits on the edge of the bed, turning to face me. “You’re right, I wouldn’t have, but I’ve done a lot of growing up. If being with them makes you happy, I’m not going to try to stop you. And I have to confess … I thought I’d just tolerate it — just make myself be okay with it so I could be with you — but I actually like watching you with them. I like seeing you enjoy them, and I like watching them get you off.”
It’s bizarre to think this is the same man who got mad at me just for going out on a dance floor without him. “Wow, you really are Jay 2.0,” I say.
He cracks a grin. “Nah, more like 5 or 6.0, at least. I’ve been through several upgrades.” When I laugh, he adds, “You shouldn’t be surprised, though. You’ve changed a lot, too.”
“I have?”
“I guess we don’t notice our own changes,” he says, “but you’re much more confident now. More direct, and even stronger than you used to be.” He leans over and slides his hand up the side of my bare leg, all the way up to my hip. “You’re tougher, but you still have nice, soft curves.”
“We’d better stop,” I say, scooting to the edge of the bed, “or we’ll be here all night.”