I wrap my hand around the base, pumping him while he fucks my mouth, telling him he doesn't have to stop throughwatery eyes, his dick smothering my moans while Nolan brings me closer and closer to the edge.
I can barely breathe, and my pussy is pulsing. I like this a lot more than I should.
My legs shake. I stop breathing, stop thinking, and the most intense orgasm of my fucking life rips me apart. Saliva drips from my mouth down my chin as my entire body convulses, and Dax pulls his dick from my mouth, pumping it in his hand, so Nolan can hear me scream.
"Ahh! Oh, my god…oh, my god. Oh, fuck…"
"Fuck…" Nolan groans. "Jesus Christ, her pussy's squeezing the fuck out of me."
While Nolan fucks me through the orgasm, Dax pushes my hair away from my face and mouth, his other hand pumping his dick. "Look at her shaking like a slut. She fucking loves it. You like coming on his dick, Saige?"
My legs are still shaking, my eyes rolling back in my head, and I can barely force an answer out. "Y-yes…"
"Open your mouth, fuck doll," Dax rasps. "I'm going to come."
I open wide, and Dax sinks his dick back into my mouth, groaning while filling it with cum, keeping it in the back of my throat with a hand on the other side of my head.
The sight of Dax filling my mouth sends Nolan over the edge, and he comes at the same time, burying himself in my pussy, grunting through short, hard thrusts until he stills.
Dax's dick falls from my mouth and I collapse on the bed, breath heaving, allowing my eyes to close. Nolan pulls out afew seconds later, and just as quickly disappears through the bathroom door.
Neither of them talked to her again afterward.
I wonder if that's what will happen to me now. It's kind of what I want anyway, right?
Suddenly, the room is painfully quiet, even with music still blaring downstairs. I feel uncomfortably exposed, physically and otherwise, but then Dax stretches out next to me, his muscular, tattooed arms enveloping me.
He sighs, pressing his lips to my forehead. "You made me so fucking happy tonight," he says. "You know that? I'm proud of you."
Dax smiles, tracking my face with his fingertips. He doesn't seem to mind that I don't answer, but the truth is when he told me I made him happy—that he was proud of me—my anxiety and discomfort melted away. I'm glad he's proud of me, and that makes me a little sick, too.
"Come on. Let's go take a shower."
I let him lead me into the bathroom, and then into the shower, where he washes my hair for me, kissing my mouth, my neck and shoulders.
Holding me against his naked body the way I think a boyfriend would.
But Dax isn't my boyfriend. I'm just his favorite toy.
And when we get out, he brushes my hair and dresses me. Like a doll.
Then, he wraps his body around mine in his bed, telling me again how well we fit together before falling asleep.
12
you've really made a mess this time
Saige
Iwake the next morning to the sound of my phone vibrating against the hardwood floor and a headache. Rolling onto my back, I find myself alone in bed.
Like the headache, it's not a good feeling.
I get up, searching the room for wherever I set my phone down last night, and find it near the doorway under Dax's desk. After grabbing it, I turn off the alarm and, sighing, leave the room.
The first floor of the house is completely trashed—cups and garbage are everywhere. I'm sure I'll have to clean that up.
And it smells, too. Like stale beer and vomit. As I make it to the bottom of the staircase, I hear Dax laugh from the kitchen, and my heart stops. Holding my breath, I descend the final steps and turn back toward the bedroom.
