Page 75 of A Fool's Game

Taylor starts to move when Ainsley is fully seated in me, and I open my eyes to watch him feel it.

He doesn’t let me down. Eyes wide, I can see his brain processing this new sensation. That new movement inside my body, separated only by a thin wall of skin. And what it means for him.

He surprises me by thrusting harder, pushing me backward a bit, as if he’s chasing Taylor’s cock, rather than running from it.

I know Taylor feels it too, because he takes the same approach, fucking forward into me, sliding his tip along my interior wall, grinding himself against Ainsley’s movement as he thrusts in and out of my body.

For a long moment, it’s just grunts and gasps and my own moans, which I can feel escaping me, but can’t separate from the rest of the noise. I can’t find my voice, even though I hear it fill the room, mixing with the rapidly rising pitches of the two men using my body as their own.

“That’s your fucking dick in there,” Ainsley grunts out, stating the obvious in the most awestruck tone of voice.I blink my eyes open and find his open as well, wide, wild, and locked on the man behind me as sweat drips down his forehead.

“I told you you’d like my dick, pretty boy. And look at you now.”

If Ainsley intended to hide any feelings he was having about this situation or Taylor’s taunting words, he fails miserably as he cries out in what could only be called ecstasy. He thrusts harder against where Taylor fills my body and Taylor does the same, until the two of them practically fuck each other inside me.

Ainsley screams as his core contracts, filling my body with his hot come. I’m almost too wet with the combination of his fluids and my own, feeling myself dripping and him slipping around to stay inside me, but he manages, working himself through his orgasm.

When his eyes pop back open, he gasps for air but doesn't stop thrusting, doesn’t stop battling Taylor's tip with his own.But when Taylor comes a moment later, Ainsley freezes, wide eyed, watching him, soaking in the sound of his pleasure.

Taking it for his own.

Taylor’s rough with me, grunting and filling my asshole with his come, as deep as he can force himself into my body. I lean forward into Ainsley’s waiting arms and take him, teeth clenched as he claims me for his own.

Taylor’s body hasn’t been still for a full minute when he pulls out of me, suddenly, roaring and slapping me on my fully bared ass. “Fucking hell.”

He throws himself onto his back on the bed, panting and sweating.

Ainsley stays perfectly still, cock falling to half-mast and slipping from my body as he allows me to hold onto him andholds me just as tightly. We breathe together and I count our heartbeats. I’m only at forty-five when I feel Taylor rise behind me, peeling me gently from Ainsley’s sweaty torso and lifting me into his arms.

“I’m assuming this fancy-ass bedroom has a shower?”

Ainsley jumps to his feet. “Yeah, of course. In here.”

He leads us to the exact bathroom I would expect in an apartment like this. Massive and gray, with marble counters, a steam shower, and a tub large enough for all three of us.

Ainsley turns on all three shower heads and crosses the room, opening a closet filled with snowy white towels.

Taylor sets me down on the shower bench as soon as the temperature is warm enough and kneels before me. “You doing good?”

I nod.

“Come enough?”

I shrug. “I could come again.”

His face twists into a smirk. “Little witch could always use another one, huh?”

He pushes my knees open and runs his fingers through the complete and utter mess of fluids waiting between my legs. Then, without any pretense or cleanup at all, he leans down to touch the tip of his tongue to my clit.

I’m so wound up from being taken by the two of them, I know this isn’t going to take long. I know Taylor knows it too. He doesn’t hold back, flicking my clit lightly with his tongue until I’m gasping and coming, whimpering as the tension of the last hour all releases from my body in a trembling orgasm.

“There we go. Now we can clean her up.”

I blink back to reality and find Ainsley leaning against the shower wall to our left, watching. He’s holding two brand new loofahs and smiling down at me.

I let the men clean me, let them open me and wipe theevidence of their own pleasure from between my legs, washing it all away with lavender scented bubbles.

I don’t even open my eyes to see where they’re laying me. The feeling of soft, warm blankets, and strong, warm limbs is enough.

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