“That’s it,” George says. “Keep doingthat. Fuck, I love it when you do that.” He reaches down and plays with Declan’s nipples, lightly tweaking them. “Such a good boy for me.” He plants his hands on either side of Declan’s head and leans in for another kiss.
I’m squeezing my thighs together again, my clit throbbing. Part of me hates George for being so goddamned sexy, but I get why Ellen loved him. Hell, I’d have loved him, too, if I’d been on the receiving end of a fraction of this.
They’re kissing, Declan’s head coming up off the bed again to meet him there, making George chuckle. “My eager boy. So eager to please me, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Don’t stop squeezing my cock, boy.Mmm, that’s it.”
George, you bastard.
I think that with all love and respect, too.
They remain like that a few more minutes, with George kissing and nuzzling Declan, talking to him, most of their words too low for me to make out anything except the desperate need in Declan’s tone and the blatant desire in George’s.
George sits up, his eyes hooded, their attention on each other. He lifts Declan’s legs, draping them over his shoulders and rounding Declan’s back. George adjusts himself, sets his knees, and starts slowly thrusting as he leans in to kiss Declan.
They’re…gone. Both of them. After a few minutes, George braces himself on one hand and then reaches between them. “Such a good boy,” he says, but his control sounds frayed, barely there. He must be close and needs a moment to cool off.
He starts jerking Declan’s cock. The boy tries to rock in time with George. As I watch them, my nipples tighten at the breathy, raw, primal noises they both make.
“That’s it, boy,” George says. “Get it. You earned it. Give it to me.”
Familiar whines roll from Declan as he squirms in time with George’s strokes. Their gazes are locked on each other, George’s face inches from Declan’s.
“That’s it, baby,” George says. “I want it.” For a moment, I can imagine it’s Ellen under him and impaled on his cock.
The love tingeing his tone had to be familiar to my girl. I take a moment to feel grateful that she was so beloved by him and felt that love throughout their marriage. She wouldn’t have lied to me about that.
Declan gasps and cries out. George doesn’t stop stroking him, though. “That’s it,” George practically growls. “Fuck, yeah! I feel that sweet ass squeezing me.”
I don’t know what George’s deciding factor was, but he finally releases Declan’s cock and resumes fucking him. He’s pounding into him, shaking the whole bed with his thrusts, his arms now under Declan’s shoulders and hands clamped around the top of them for leverage.
When George comes, it’s a deep, guttural groan that heralds his release, the same groan he made that night in the office, and the night I watched them fuck on the couch in their tuxes after the fundraiser. His last several hard, deep thrusts pull additional moans from Declan until he falls still on top of him, kissing him again, tenderly pulling Declan’s legs around his waist.
He reaches up and unfastens the rope binding Declan’s wrists. The boy immediately wraps his arms around George as they kiss, whispering to each other.
I step back and realize I’m practically panting. I hurry down the hall, well aware of my damn clit throbbing in my panties. That was literallythehottest thing I’ve ever witnessed in my life.
Ever.
And I’ve done a lot and watched a lot of damn porn.
Alot.
Making my way downstairs, I don’t bother putting on my shoes. I grab them, my purse, and my keys, verify I locked the front door, then sneak around through the kitchen and into the garage. There, I carefully let myself out through the side door and lock it behind me.
Only then do I slip on my shoes and hurry down to my car. I pause just outside the gate to turn the lights back on and set the damn alarm system for him. Not the first time I’ve had to remotely arm it for him because he forgot. I even have a preset button just for him, that sets everything fully, excluding the motion detectors in the house, and the inside door to the garage, in case he has to go out there.
When I get home, I’m stripping right inside my own front door, naked by the time I hit my bedroom. There, I grab the Hitachi from my nightstand and flop onto my bed with it jammed between my thighs.
The magic number tonight is three.
After the third orgasm, I shut the vibrator off and lie there, panting and reasonably sated. As my pulse finally begins to slow, I think about the two men probably still snuggling, talking, maybe even taking a shower together now.
I don’t want to think about how they would’ve welcomed me into bed with them.
Because that would mean I’d have to think about my own past and why I don’t trust easily.
It’d also mean facing a few truths about me and Ellen that still ache too much.
