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“Like they’ve been shot with a dose of pure lust,” another adds, laughter lacing her voice as she recounts tales better suited for the locker room than the family section.
“Must be all that adrenaline,” I offer, trying to match their candid banter like I’m one of them rather than the only one here who doesn’t have a hockey god waiting to fuck my brains out.
“More like testosterone,” Lucia corrects with a knowing look. “They channel all that victory energy into… other activities.”
I laugh, shaking my head at the unfiltered conversation. “Well, have a great night, ladies,” I say, trying to make my exit.
“Wait,” Luce calls from behind me. She moves closer until she can whisper in my ear. “Don’t you want to hang around and say hi to Mickey and Soren?”
As much as I’d like to do that, I shake my head. “Not tonight. Got places to be,” I say, vaguely reminding her of my plans.
After quickly saying goodbye to everyone, I fight my way through the exit and get into my car. Luckily, the private parking lot isn’t blocked off, and it doesn’t take long until I’m on the road, heading toward Cupid’s Court.
Gail
Anticipation claws at my skin the second I hear the door open, and the men’s heavy footsteps sound across the room. This time I’m not kneeling on the floor like they usually request, instead I’m spread-eagled on the plush bed. My mask is firmly in place, and I’m completely naked.
“Hi Abby,” one of them croons, and I turn my head in the direction I think he’s in. But those damn earbuds make it hard to know for certain.
I can feel the air around me moving as they close in on me. Excitement of being in their presence causes my nipples to pebble and my pussy throbs with need. My nostrils pick up the unique scents that always cling to them like a second skin.
During our times together I’ve become an expert at relying on my senses. I know they’re freshly showered, the fusion of crisp, fresh notes of mint gives it away. They use the same body wash, but what sets them apart is their cologne.
Both of them carry the scent of expensive, sophisticated, and alluring aromas. But the one closest to me has a hint of citrus, like bergamot or lemon, clinging to him. The other is more spicy, like black pepper or cardamom.
Each makes my nostrils flare with a positive anticipation. There’s a familiarity in the scents that I can’t quite place, but that makes my heart skip a beat.
“Hey,” I breathe. I open my mouth to say more, but my words are cut off when I feel one of them joining me on the bed.
“Have you missed us?” the second guy rasps. He’s so close I can feel his breath mist across my skin.
“Yes.” I don’t even hesitate to tell them the truth.
“Have you thought about us while touching yourself?” the first one asks.
Luckily, the mask I’m wearing prevents them from seeing the red tinting my cheeks, but there’s no hiding the red splotches I feel spanning across my chest. “Y-yes,” I admit. I should tell them about the daily orgasms I give myself with the help of my vibrator, but I keep that to myself.
The one on the bed lies down next to me, and I feel the evidence of his arousal against my thigh. It’s empowering, and for a moment, it’s all I can think about—the need to have them both inside me again.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts as I hear the unmistakable sound of restraints closing, and now that I’m not distracted by thinking about their dicks, I can feel the leather around my wrist. I lie completely still as he secures all my limbs, loving the way his fingers dance across the skin in an almost reverent way.
The one next to me places his hand around my throat, squeezing. “Did you hear me, whore?”
I shiver. “No.”
He chuckles, and slowly, oh so fucking slowly, slides his hands down my torso. But instead of going straight for any of my needy areas, he grazes the side of my tit. I whimper while doing my best to lie completely still, knowing that the more eager I am, the longer he’ll take.
Palming my tit, he squeezes until I let out a throaty moan. “Yes!” My tits are so sensitive, making his almost bruising touch bordering on too much. Finding the peaked nipple, he flicks it. “Don’t stop,” I beg.
The one touching me is the one who likes to hurt me, and I love it when he makes the pain and pleasure morph into a glorified feeling I don’t know the name of. “I swear your tits seem bigger,” he growls, palming both before he continues moving south with deliberate, light touches to my skin.
“We’re celebrating tonight,” the one that tied me to the bed rasps. I think he’s the one with the pierced dick, unless I’ve got them mixed up in my head.
“What are we celebrating?” I ask. The sound of my pulse is so loud I’m not sure if he didn’t say, or if I couldn’t hear the words.
He chuckles, a dark and tempting sound. “It’s been a good day for business.” The deep timbre of his voice makes the words wash across my naked body like waves gently lapping at the shore. “Would you like some champagne?”
I cock my head to the side. “Yes, please.” Then I immediately think better of it. “W-wait, no. I can’t. I shouldn’t—” In my rush to correct myself, I almost spill the reason I can’t have any alcohol, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to silence myself.
