Evan drew her to her feet, pulled her in flush against him and began to nuzzle her neck. Shivers danced down her arms. “Certainly,” he whispered. “It’s a king. Lots of room to frolic.”
“No.” Jake drew out the word, making it the most erotic denial Sadie had ever heard.
“No?” said Evan, obviously surprised.
“No. I have a much better idea.”
Sadie realized her mouth had been hanging open. Abruptly, she snapped it shut.
Jake moved in behind her, wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear. “Impressive, isn’t it?”
He was referring to the room in which they stood. There was a small loft in Evan’s condo, and it had been converted into an elaborate sexual playroom. Mirrors lined two of the walls, and the other two were adorned with oils and lubricants, dildos and sex toys of every description. A swing hung at one end of the room, and a contraption that could only be described as a giant spider’s web was erected at the other. A tantric sex chair—an oddly sensual asymmetry of silk brocade and polished mahogany—had been pushed up next to the web. It at once intrigued and alarmed her a little.
“Yes,” she breathed. “It sure is.”
“It’s a remnant of my life before Jake,” supplied Evan. “My second wife was sexually adventurous.” He was scanning the shelf of massage oils, the muscles in his back smooth and relaxed—and highly alluring. “At the time I found it exciting and did everything I could to humor her. However later I realized her obsession with spicing up sex was a symptom of her boredom with me and our relationship.”
Jake sighed. “Adventurous sex is fun, but you shouldn’t
need
all the bells and whistles to make it good.”
Evan picked a bottle and turned to face them. His cock was at full alert. “Exactly.”
Sadie snuggled back into Jake’s embrace and smiled warmly at Evan. “Well I certainly don’t need any bells or whistles to help me enjoy you two.” She glanced at the web. “In fact this stuff is a little intimidating.”
Evan approached her and cupped her chin in his hand. “Don’t worry. I don’t have anything wild in mind. I think Jake just thought you’d enjoy seeing this place.”
“And maybe we could make use of the massage table,” added Jake.
There was a massage table? How had she missed that. “A massage? You gave me one just a couple of days ago. I hardly think I deserve another!”
Evan’s hand remained on her face. “Are you kidding? You deserve far more than we mere humans can offer you.”
Laughing, she batted away his hand, but it only returned to lie on her breast. “You guys are crazy.”
“Of course we are. About you.”
“Isn’t that a bit cliché?” She surprised herself. The old her would have swooned at that phrase, but instead it made her feel playful. She wanted to tease them, and that spoke volumes about how comfortable and cared for she felt.
“Cliché?” Evan’s eyebrows lifted. “Are you saying
we’re
cliché?”
“No, I—”
Jake’s hand snuck around to close over her mouth. “That’s what I heard.”
“Well, that sounds like a challenge to me.”
“Me too.
Behind Jake’s hand Sadie was grinning.
Before she knew it was she lying on the elusive massage table—it had been folded and stashed against the wall in the corner—her wrists and ankles strapped snugly to the apparatus by a set of soft velvet cuffs. Contrary to typical massage position, she lay on her back, her head resting on a small pillow, and it took her a moment to realize that the table was upholstered with some kind of space-age foam that accepted her weight and formed gently to every curve and nuance of her flesh. She had begun to think that this wasn’t like any massage table she’d ever seen before when there was a loud click and her arms and legs—or rather the foam platforms holding them—released and separated so that her body formed a star shape.
“What the hell?” she asked, a giggle warring with a slight wave of discomfort.
Jake hovered over her. “Still think we’re cliché?”
“I never thought that.”
He grinned, touched her cheek. “Sure, you say that now. When you’re at our mercy.”
She felt a gentle flood of warmth as Evan drizzled a fragrant oil down her torso, starting at her breasts and ending at her mound. It produced its own surge of warmth between her parted thighs. She sighed.
Evan asked, “Do you like being at our mercy?”
She nodded, realizing what a huge step it was for her to admit that. She relished being at their mercy. She was at once anxious and eager to find out what that meant—and what they would do.
It didn’t take long to find out.
Apparently it meant placing even more trust in them, because the next moment the room went dark. A soft blindfold was placed over her eyes, and from that moment on she trusted more deeply and completely than she had ever trusted anyone in her life.
They began the process of spreading the oil all over her body. One on each side of her, they worked it outward from her belly, over her breasts and shoulders, down her arms to her fingertips. Just as she’d always heard, the lack of visual stimuli seemed to heighten the sensations that the rest of her body experienced. She was completely focused on her skin, on the scintillating touch of two sets of male hands—one broad and long-fingered, the other finer but no less commanding.
When they found their way to her hips, she felt a fresh rush of excitement as she anticipated their touch at her center—but the sense of anticipation was all she was awarded. The hands flowed over her hip bones and down to the crest of her thighs. Insistent fingers massaged her quads and teased at her inner thigh, but there was no fulfillment as her pussy swelled with need. Her shins and calves were not ignored, but it was when they finally reached her feet that she sighed in absolute ecstasy.
What was it about a foot rub that a woman found to be so utterly and completely decadent? It was as if every nerve in her body ended in the ball and arch of her foot, as the relaxation and satisfaction seemed to radiate outward from that point and spread to every muscle and tendon that she possessed. The sexuality of it faded slightly as she floated on the waves of simple physical pleasure. The foot rub was, in a way, an orgasm in and of itself.
She drifted—her body transported and utterly captivated. She almost forgot where she was and who she was with for a moment. She hovered in that delicious zone between sleep and wakefulness—until her sexual awareness was reawakened by the motion of their hands moving back up her legs. Only this time it was just one set of hands—at least she thought so. It was hard to tell, but it felt like only one set of fingers working its way up her inner thighs toward— “Oh!”
At last he found her pussy—the touch so gentle as to more closely remember a flutter of a breeze rather than the stroke of a hand. But it was somehow more arousing for the lightness of it. There was a rush of wetness in response and her clit swelled in its eagerness for more.
Then there were hands on her shoulders—moving down toward her breasts. She sighed in pleasure, for the moment focused on the gentle tracing action of Jake’s fingers. She had already become familiar enough with his hands to identify them. He cupped and stroked, teasing her nipples with his thumbs and drawing the tingling tips to full attention.
Meanwhile her pussy was not being ignored. That gentle whisk of a fingertip had been followed by more insistent stroking, which became a gentle massage. At last a finger—or was it two—slipped inside her and she felt a strange sort of relief. As if this was what her body had been waiting for. And yet it still wasn’t enough. She arched her hips slightly, twisting and searching for something she couldn’t quite identify.
Until at last it found her. Evan’s mouth was hot and wet, his tongue eager as his fingers probed deeply. His tongue played over her clit, stroking and teasing, massaging and torturing as the excitement grew and her body succumbed to his talents.
Jake’s mouth followed suit, laving her breasts and teasing her nipples with his tongue.
She moaned, her senses quickly overloading as the intensity built. A climax came on abruptly. It stole over her out of nowhere, and shook her from head to toe, eliciting a loud cry of both surprise and pleasure.
The walls of her pussy clamped around Evan’s fingers and Jake’s mouth shifted to hers, swallowing her cry of ecstasy and calming her racing heart.
And then Evan’s mouth was gone—replaced by the sweet fullness of his cock. He thrust into her, eliciting a fresh cry of surprise and pleasure.
Jake had released her mouth and she felt the whisper of his lips against her ear. “That is so hot,” he said. “I love watching him fuck you.”
If she could have found the breath, she would have replied that she rather enjoyed it herself. But her thoughts were in far too much chaos for that.
Evan gripped her hips, his hands firm and insistent as he pounded himself into her.
“Please,” she managed to whisper, just as his thumb found her clit.
“Please what?” asked Jake. “Please stop?”
“No.” She shook her head vigorously. “Blindfold.”
“Oh!”
And at last the blindfold was whisked away and she was allowed to see the full glory of Evan’s sweat-slicked body as thrust after powerful thrust battered her sex-sated body with yet another round of pleasure.
“Can you come for me again?” asked Evan.
As if his need was all it took, her body responded. The climax snaked through her, pulsing around Evan’s cock and pumping him finally to his own climax.
But even as she was struggling to draw in enough oxygen to fill her starving lungs she whispered, “Jake. Jake now.”
Two men in quick succession had never even been the fodder of fantasy for her, yet here she was, in essence hoping for a mini-gang bang.
“Fuck!” was the only reply she heard, and she wasn’t even sure who had said it before she felt the pressure of a fresh cock in her cunt.
“You’re amazing,” whispered Evan who had taken his place beside her ear, his hand resting possessively on a breast as he watched Jake fuck her. “Do you know that?”
And for perhaps the first time in her life, she did.
Rachel leaned back against her pillow and pulled her knees up to her chest. She stared out the window at the moon-dappled landscape outside the four-bunk cabin that was her home for the weekend, and tried not to hear the singing and laughing that was going on over at the campfire—without her. She couldn’t be there right now. She couldn’t be with him.
After seeing Noah that afternoon and then sitting with him at supper, she’d realized over and over again how terribly vulnerable she was with him. She couldn’t expose herself to that. Couldn’t let herself feel these things. What had happened during their picnic and what she had seen in the woods that day had touched her—and it had awoken her to a consummate truth.
She loved Noah and what she had seen and felt that day had proven to her exactly how strong—and dangerous—love was. That girl in the clearing was very likely going to lose everything that mattered to her. She was going to sacrifice her family in favor of the one woman who was her lover. The whole question of the morality of lesbianism aside, that was a frightening thought. It was a huge and very scary step to take and Rachel seriously questioned the wisdom of it—for anyone. To throw away everything that you were raised with? To be so alone in the world. Yes she’d have her
partner
, but was that—or could that be—enough? And what of her duty to her parents? The Bible was very clear on that point, as well. Honoring and obeying one’s parents was one of the commandments. How did she just ignore that?
And then there was God Himself. Her first love was supposed to be God, and Noah was dangerously close to taking over that spot in her heart. And perhaps that was the greatest sin of all.
To make such a decision based solely on whether or not it made
her
happy was selfish and unrealistic. There were much bigger issues involved. A much broader circle of people were affected. And in truth, there was only one scenario that would make the way she felt and the things she was doing with Noah acceptable—marriage. But was she ready to take that step already?
Although it felt as if they’d known each other a lifetime, in reality it had been only two days. Even to her inexperienced heart, it felt reckless. Wasn’t it crazy even to consider such a thing?
She knew what she should do, but didn’t know if she had the strength to do it. She felt more alone and confused than ever—here among a group of people who had made her feel more at home and welcomed than any group or any church had ever made her feel before.
She was very confused. Nothing made sense. But she hoped eventually it would. All she needed was more time to sort it all out.
The knock on the door startled her, but she then she thought she should have expected it.
“Rachel?” It was Noah.
So much for having time. When she didn’t answer, he knocked again, his voice softer this time. “Rachel? I know you’re in there. What’s wrong? I’m sorry if I did something wrong. I—”
She opened the door. They stood there staring at each other.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.”