He moaned, thrusting a few more times, getting every tiny bit of pleasure he could, everything until there was none left.
He clung to me while we slowly drifted back down to earth.
Panting softly, he slid out of me and tucked his cock back into his jeans. His hands were shaking, making him miss a couple of times before he got it back in and zipped them up.
"You're going to make us some food," he said. "While you're cooking, our cum is going to be trickling out of you. When you're serving food to us and our father, you're going to be wet between your legs. Every step you take, you're going to remember the whore you are. You opened your legs for us. You're going to feel it for the next hour or two. If you're lucky, we might let you wash it away later."
I swallowed and nodded. My panties were going to be drenched as hell, but I liked the idea of walking around with their release on the insides of my thighs. I'd opened my legs to them because I wanted this. All of this and more. These men really were going to spoil me.
"Cute that you're agreeing, because I'm not giving you a choice." Jules grabbed the corner of the washcloth and eased it out from between my lips before tossing it aside.
I swallowed a couple of times, trying to get saliva back into my mouth.
"I better start cooking then," I said.
The restaurant was empty, still being closed for the day, but I had everything I needed to rustle up something quick, with no dubious meat from Zeus or any other predator.
"I'll help." Cass was tucking himself back into his own pants, his face still flushed. Every so often, his gaze went to the seating area, hoping like hell his father didn't hear anything.
I didn't think he had. Boner was still telling his story, and we'd been quiet. Hadn't we?
The minute we stepped out, they'd see our flushed faces, but that was okay, not to mention unavoidable.
In the end, did it really matter? We were all consenting adults here. If Forrest didn't like it, he could always leave.
"I can cut some vegetables and shit," Jules said with a shrug. "Not actual shit."
I grinned. "That's good because I don't serve that here." Not even the coffee that was filtered through cat shit. I'd heard good things about it, but couldn't bring myself to try. Hypocritical, I know, but as I've said before, a girl has to have boundaries.
Jules gave me a look like I might be out of my mind. That just made me grin bigger. It really was too easy to get him going sometimes.
I got them both to work, slicing and dicing while I made a quick sauce and some pasta.
Twenty minutes later we carried bowls out to the table, handed them out and placed a salad in the middle for everyone to help themselves.
They all gave us a knowing look. Clearly, they hadn't missed what went on in the kitchen.
My face heated, but I slid into a chair between Boner and Archer and pretended nothing was amiss.
"Smells as good as always, love," Boner said, sniffing the air just above his bowl. "I don't know how you do it."
"Practice and fresh ingredients," I said, as Jules shoved a mouthful of spaghetti into his mouth.
He almost choked on it, coughing a few times while pressing a hand to his lips to keep from spitting all over the table.
I smiled innocently.
He glared.
"Those tomatoes come from a rooftop garden a couple of blocks over," I said. "The herbs too. The egg from the pasta is locally sourced as well."
I looked at Jules as if to say 'what else was I suggesting?'
He rolled his eyes.
"The meat came from further afield," I said.
"Good," Cass muttered.
