Page 65 of Inked Daddies

I’m pulled from my reverie by the large hand sliding down my spine. It’s all I can do not to shiver. Trick purrs in my ear, “We know what you really want, Marie. And we want to give it to you.”

Riding Hugo after everything else tonight, I’m almost out of breath. “What’s that?”

His hand doesn’t stop at the top of my ass or slide over to my hip. It follows a straight line down, pausing just above my most sensitive place. “You want to take all of us at once, isn’t that right, baby girl?”

The thought alone makes me shudder.

But it’s true. I’ve always wanted that with them. I’m just not sure if I can take it. “Yeah, but?—”

“Don’t worry. We’re gentle with first timers.”

Sam appears in my vision, behind the chair over Hugo’s shoulder. He’s naked and hard, and his eyes are on my mouth. “We’ll be careful, baby. I vow it.”

There’s something about a man like Sam saying something that reassuring that tells you everything is gonna be alright.

“Okay,” I whisper, and the relief in the room is palpable.

Trick’s finger is suddenly wet as it traces over me there, and soon he presses inward, making me gasp. “Breathe, baby girl. It’s just the tip?—”

“Oh God.”

“—of my finger.”

“I don’t know about this.”

“All you gotta do is say stop.”

I swallow and nod, and the next thing I know, his finger is in me. It’s a strange sensation—good, but strange, and it makes me twitch.

Hugo murmurs something in French as his eyes roll back, baring his throat to me. I take the opportunity and bend forward a tad to lick him there. Which opens me up for Trick, apparently.

Then, it’s not his finger anymore.

My breath speeds up as a weird sense of panic rushes in. But Trick takes his time, easing in as Hugo rambles in blissful French, and Sam strokes himself while he watches.

Sam cautions, “Slow your breathing, baby. If it hurts, say so.”

“No, it’s just…a lot.”

“Want me to distract you?”

I lick my lips, knowing exactly what kind of distraction is on offer. I don’t even finish the whole nod before he’s in my mouth over Hugo’s shoulder.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Trick mutters behind me as he sinks in all the way.

It’s decadently too much, the three of them. To be this full, this satisfied, this complete. How have I gone my whole life without this?

Despite the earlier exhaustion, our bodies respond, each of us drawing energy from the group’s synergy. Everything is careful, slow, laced with affection. Each of them murmurs praise, worship, curses, and things in other languages I don’t know. My head spins from the layering of sensations, from the knowledge that these men are my men.

Even if only for tonight.

But that worry melts under the pressure of kisses and caresses, replaced by a momentary bliss. Heat pools deep inside of me, a wave of cascading pleasure as they push and pull, as I unite the four of us with my body. Time seems suspended as we exchange touches, building each other up to the crest of ecstasy once more.

I orgasm, moaning on Sam’s cock, while the three of them take full control. Trick pushes, Hugo dips, and Sam guides my head, his fingers woven into my hair. But I want them to come too. So I suck harder on Sam. I flick Hugo’s nipple piercings. And I arch myself to take Trick deeper still.

He’s the first to go, pulling out to come on my back. Sam’s next, shooting down my throat. Hugo ramble-murmurs, “That’s it, love, drink him down, oh, fuck,” right before he comes too, his arms wrapped tight around me.

When it finally ebbs, we collapse in a tangled sprawl on the bed, or half on the bed, half on the plush rug. My legs are shaky, arms draped over Sam’s shoulder, Trick’s hair tickling my side, Hugo’s hand still resting on my hip. We’re a muddle of satisfiedbodies, hearts pounding in unison. I let out a trembling sigh, the heat of the night settling into a pleasant glow.

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