Her insides ignited, and she nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
They stopped for eggnog milkshakes on the way home because he said they needed some Americana. As soon as they were in the front door of the house, he bent her over a sofa in the living room and fucked her ass hard and ruthless.
It was a perfectly lovely evening.
* * * *
The days passed with the comfortable routines and schedules Willow craved. Mornings being used, chores and workouts, time with Kenny, personal time, Silas returning home, then the others. Dinner. A scene with one of them, bedtime with two.
It was comforting. More challenging some days than others, but this was her life and she reveled in it.
Did she love every second? No, but that wasn’t the point. She had exercises to get her used to pleasuring three men at once, rather than being used by them, and she went through the motions but had a hard time focusing. She resented some of the exercises Boone required, but she did them.
But even those items worked as part of her overall requirements. She’d given herself to these men, and if she liked everything they required, it would mean they weren’t using her to their fantasies, but to hers.
And that wouldn’t have worked for her.
But when Kenny told her their next foursome night would be a test to see how she was coming with her exercises, she was understandably nervous.
The lights were low when she walked into the bedroom, a chalkboard leaned against the headboard. White chalk in the tray.
Willow’s stomach clenched at the sight of it.
Silas and Boone were in the bed, Kenny standing on the other side while she stood on her medallion in inspection pose.
Kenny crossed his arms and looked at her appraisingly. “You’ve been doing coordination drills,” he said, voice even. “Silicone cocks, gag practice, vibrating toys. You should’ve learned how to stroke two cocks while your ass is being fucked by the machine. Learned to suck while fucking. Tonight, we find out how well you’ve absorbed the lessons.”
She swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“This is training,” he reminded her. “You aren’t expected to be perfect, but every failure will be documented.” He climbed onto the mattress. “Permission to join us on the bed.”
She crawled to the center of the giant bed, and Boone lifted her, settled her on his thighs.
Silas and Kenny moved into position, one on either side, their cocks already half-hard. Silas handed her lube with a lazy grin.
“Let’s see if you can make music with those pretty little fucktoy hands.”
She lubed her palms and reached for them both — Kenny on the left, Silas on the right — and then Boone’s thick fingers were spreading her ass, his cock pressing against her rim. No warm-up. No mercy.
She gasped, body arching as he pushed in. She tried to keep her hands moving, but her left hand stuttered mid-stroke, and Kenny hissed.
“Focus.”
He leaned and made a mark on the board, and she resolved to do better.
She tried. Triedsohard. But Boone’s cock was massive and unforgiving, every inch stretching her until her brain felt like it was leaking out through her spine. Her arms trembled as she jerked each shaft out of sync, without rhythm.
Silas grunted in irritation. “Focus, fucksleeve.”
The chalk scraped the board. Two. Then three. Then four.
Boone thrust harder, his hand curled in her hair to keep her upright. Every slam of his hips made her falter. Her rhythm was gone. Hands slipped, jerked unevenly. She forgot to stop before she got to the top and lost them. Couldn’t keep her hands moving up and down. Forgot herself.
Scratch. Five. Six. Seven.
Boone groaned, low and rough, and when he finally emptied in her ass, she sagged with relief but it didn’t last.
“New position,” Kenny ordered. “My cock in your mouth. Boone at your side after he washes his dick. Silas in your ass. Hands and mouth, little whore. I want coordination.”
