Roaring, he pushed in and halted, his muscular legs jammed up against her thighs, and the stream of cum was joined by a sudden flare inside her, a push indescribable, as if he’d turned on a fucking hose…
Or snapped open those soft-hard spikes.She screamed and came again, floundered into another peak of ecstasy, and came again. Then again, in a ripple of mini-orgasms that left her a panting, moaning puddle on the bed, with a small flood dripping down her legs.
Her world half-beneath the rumpled quilt cover was a swamp of worn-out seconds, mired in exhaustion. Eventually, she felt Rutger relax and pull himself from inside her. She was in no hurry to be deprived of cock and groaned in mild protest as he did so.
They freed her hands, then pulled her from the bed. They were like two puppies let loose to lick another puppy. So adorable in their ownership of her body. She wanted to lick them clean too, and managed some, on her knees. The huddle of them in the shower was slippery and warm and a mix of hard bodies and kisses. There was shower water up to a point. Until it ceased.
There were, of course, plenty of towels.
Languid hours were spent snuggling with them on the bed. She had bruises and hurts, so did they, or Vargr did. Her bruiseswere a thrill and a memory note of lovemaking. They tried to get her to say what she liked about it, and she told them she wanted to think some more. She needed time.
Time would give rise to…
Less embarrassment over her fetishes.
How she loved being forced, and held down, and even punished.
It was strange yet awesome.
Later.
She’d tell them later.
And ask about Rutger’s strange-feeling cock that she’d looked at with side-eye in the shower.
She did promise Vargr never to kick him again, or not without warning. Both of them, she discovered, were fascinated by her butt tattoo, and had evil plans.
Maybe she’d let them.
If they begged. She smiled at that thought as she drifted away into dreamland.
“The time will come,” Rutger softly said, kissing her breast, “… to talk of many things. Of shoes and ships and sealing-wax, and why not to put holes in your lovers.”
She cranked an eye open. “What the fuck?”
“Wasn’t that a walrus and a carpenter?” Vargr kissed her back and squished in closer, his biceps beneath her ear tensing and relaxing.
“Maybe. Or that singing nun?”
“Nah. A walrus. Lewis Carroll.”
“I won’t shoot you again,” she mumbled. “Promise. Unless you keep interrupting my sleep.” Where’d she get these two?
They ignored her. She fell asleep listening to them debating old movies, poems, and porn.
26
Hudex negotiatedthe climb down through shafts, corridors and deserted streets, with a few detours to descend using the outside of the scraper when he could. He hated the inside, being underneath the building bulk.
More than hated. He feared.
Here was unnatural. The dark squeezed in on him. The building above crushed.
Already he could feel the subtle sizzle as parts of him were exposed to the utter dark and began to bubble away. The tiniest of holes in the human flesh at the neck join were letting in the putrescent darkness.
Unnatural.
He yearned for the openness of space, to bathe in cosmic rays, for that was where he should be.
