“Whaa..?” I ask, my body and mind in a euphoric stupor.
“Relax, Fi, I’ve got you. I just want to help Bastian out for a minute.”
My eyes widen and meet Seb’s, waiting for his protest. He tenses, his hand slowing. B slides his fingers and the palm of his hand through my slick folds, and I can’t suppress a shiver. Then, he turns and crawls the other direction, reaching for Seb’s cock.
Seb stills and watches B’s large hand grip him tightly and slide up his shaft, smearing my arousal all around his tip.
“Ugh,” Seb gasps. “Shitfuckshitfuck…” Obscenities pour from his mouth as B pumps his hand again, and Seb thrusts toward him. “Stitch, stop.”
B freezes, looking up at Seb, concern knitting his brows.
“You have to stop,” Seb pants. “I’m not going to last.” His blue eyes lock with mine. “I want to come with Fi.”
“Fuck,” B growls. “That’s hot.” He looks down forlornly. “My balls are aching right now, you guys.” He gives Seb another stroke without thinking.
“Goddammit, Michaels.” Seb’s tone is almost feral. “Stop touching me and tongue fuck her. Now.”
Brantley doesn’t need any more direction than that. He moves back into place and presses his mouth to my hole, spearing me with his tongue and then pulling out to swirl it aggressively around my clit. His unexpected enthusiasmoverwhelms my already frayed nerves, and I buck into his mouth with an animalistic groan.
I lock my thighs around B’s head and curl forward, thrusting my hands into his hair. I must be suffocating him the way I pull him against me, but the pleasurable heat in my pussy has all the control right now.
The orgasm builds quickly and explodes, and I scream B’s name as I start to shudder. Seb grunts loudly, and my eyes fly to his and then drop to his cock. White ropes of cum erupt from his tip, coating his stomach where his shirt has ridden up and hitting his pecs and neck.
The room spins for a moment as the sight alone sends another smaller orgasm pinging through my body—an aftershock of pleasure. And then I fall back to the couch, my fingers releasing B’s hair and one arm covering my face as I try to catch my breath.
“That was amazing,” B whispers harshly. “I just...I can’t. I have to.”
I drop my arm and crack open an eye, watching as Brantley pulls out his cock and strokes it furiously. I stare, fascinated, and I don’t miss the way that Seb’s satisfied eyes are fixated as well. It only takes B seconds until he’s groaning with relief, his face red, as he comes into his closed fist, cum covering his hand and dripping over the tops of his fingers. Then he falls back onto the carpet with a content sigh.
For some reason, that strikes me as funny, and I start to giggle. To my surprise, Seb chuckles too.
“What? What’re you guys laughing about?” B asks, looking between us.
“That was just very on brand for you, B,” I say as my laughter fades. “Never want to be left out of anything.”
He pulls his shirt over his head and uses it to wipe the sticky mess from his hand. “Laugh all you want, but my balls have never been edged that bad in my life. It was jack off or die.”
Seb barks a laugh as he also pulls his shirt off and uses it to wipe cum from his abs.
“This isn’t really how I expected this talk to go,” I mutter as I pull on my panties and leggings. “But I’m not mad about it.”
B sits up and reaches for the front of my tank top, pulling me into an unexpectedly chaste kiss that flutters my stomach. I cup his smooth face and lengthen the kiss with a quiet moan. He smells like…shaving cream? How did I not notice it earlier? I must’ve been distracted by the emotional fog of the moment.
“Where did you get a razor, B?”
Brantley’s mouth kicks up in a half smile. “Bastian got us each one on his run into town. I thought I should finally shave.”
I look at Seb over B’s shoulder. “You guys have razors? I want one!” I nod at my legs indignantly. “I’ve been all up in my head about my stupid hairy legs.”
B pushes up my legging, running his hand along my calf. I stare at him, my mouth falling open. “It’s not even spikey anymore,” he says with a shrug. “Why do girls worry about this stuff?”
Seb shrugs.
My face is on fire, and I snatch my leg away from him with a huff. “Did Anna care about you shaving your legs?” he asks.
“Well, no, but she’s a girl.”
B shakes his head, mock sadness in his eyes. “I tell you, Bastian. The double standard these days is hurtful.”
