“Hey…” I said in a low, barely audible voice.
Tim came over to where I was sitting and pulled me onto his lap. He tilted my chin toward him.
“You, okay?” He asked in between kisses.
“Yeah,” I panted as I kissed him back. Our mouths intertwined as we kissed passionately. He removed my shirt and let it fall to the floor. My breasts were exposed for his enjoyment as he licked and sucked them before carrying me over to the bed.
At first, Quentin didn’t move; he just stood there. Probably doing the therapist analysis thing, judging and comparing my body’s response, like he had that damn notepad in his hands. But then he finally came over to me while I was bent over the bed and leaned over the other side to kiss me.
Eventually, he climbed into the center of the bed in front of me, and I took his dick into my mouth. He moaned and commanded me to keep eye contact with him. So that’s exactly what I did.
He slid his dick in and out of me like it was my pussy. At the same time, Tim was behind me fucking me as if I belonged to him. Because I did, and despite who had an invitation to this room, that was exactly what he wanted me to know.
Had I not had a full mouth, I probably would have woken up the entire cabin.
“Damn suck that shit, B,” Quentin groaned as he looked down at me.
Tim pulled out and ate me while my arms shook as I tried to hold myself up. I don’t know if the heightened arousal had anything to do with what they were doing, or if I was just turned on by the entire experience. But I was wet beyond belief.
The door opened, and everyone froze as they turned to see who had entered the room. It was Shareese who stood at the door, looking the most confused. Right before Tim went to let Quentin in the house, I sent her a text message. There was no context; it just read “If you’re up, come to my room. The door is open.” I’m sure this is not the sight that she had walked in expecting to see.
She turned and locked the door behind her and took cautious steps deeper into the room. Her wide eyes met each of ours, seemingly waiting for an explanation.
I stepped off the bed, and I walked toward her. My heart raced as I leaned down to her, tilted her head back, and kissed her. Unlike the kisses with Tim and Quentin, this one was soft. It wasn’t us fighting for dominance; there was no neck grabbing, no hunger… just sensual and delicate. Even the way her hands roamed my body as we kissed was different. Like she was tracing a pattern, it was a light touch, and I was shocked that it turned me on as much as it did.
Shareese pulled me over to the bench and dropped to her knees in front of me. For a second, I had forgotten that we were in the room with anyone else.
“Shit,” I cupped the back of her head, running my fingers through the hair that she had recently been growing back.
The guys stood to the side and watched us, letting Shareese take the lead. I didn’t think that I would ever be with a woman, much less like it. But her on her knees, about to make me cum was all the confirmation I needed.
I groaned and rolled my body against her lips. Rocking against her face so that she could bring me to my release.
“FUCKKKK, I’M ABOUT TO---”
“BREEZE! BABY!” Tim said, shaking me, scaring me half to death, and then holding me until my breathing could regulate.
“What?” I groaned and pushed him off me, a bit agitated.
“The hell is wrong with you, ma? You’re doing that shit again, I’m going to bring that up to Melanie when we’re at our next session,” He scoffed, sliding up in the bed.
“Doing what, Timothy?” I said as I threw the cover back.
“Crying in your sleep. You sound like you’re having a nightmare, you okay?”
The look on his face was genuine concern.
“I’m fine,” I said as I scurried out of bed and into the bathroom.
I flicked on the light, looked at my reflection in the mirror, and shook my head as I turned on the shower. The answer to all of Tim’s questions would have been right between my legs. My thighs were sticky, and I was so wet that I could hear it making a creaking noise as I took the short walk to the bathroom.
I didn’t have the heart to tell my husband that my “night terrors” were wet dreams of different fantasies that had been plaguing me ever since I decided that I would let Quentin go. Most of the time, they only include Q. More recently, it had been the two of them together. But tonight? Those shots of reposado must have done the unthinkable to my imagination because we had added Shareese into the equation.
I hopped into the shower and let the water stream directly over my face to snap me out of whatever was happening.
The door opened.
“Baby… you good?” My husband called out to me.
