Banging Rebecca (3 page)

Derrick undoes the buckle quickly. He’s in front of my mouth now, and he doesn’t say a word. He starts sliding his beautiful cock between my lips. I suck him automatically, as I feel the weight shift on the bed, Sean getting behind me, shifting me so that he can fuck my pussy while Derrick fucks my face. There’s a deliriousness in the act for me. I’ve given up everything. This is the definition of total abandon.

Or almost total.

I sense what’s going to happen before the boys do. Or at least, before Derrick does. I have far more faith in Sean’s filthy mind than in the lead singer’s.

When Derrick’s cock is all wet from my mouth, Sean moves back. “You fuck her,” he says. “Fuck her hard. Fuck her like the pig she is.”

Derrick does what Sean says, he doesn’t waste a beat. He’s on the bed behind me, spreading my slippery nether lips open with his fingertips, driving his steel-like cock inside of me. And then I hear the sound—a noise I think I’ve been waiting for, a whisper, a come-on, but not in my ear.

This is Sean, soft, steady, never rushing. This is Sean behind Derrick, telling him what he’s going to do. Telling him how it’s going to be. And oh, fucking god, I would reach my hand between my legs and touch myself if I could. I would jerk my clit and come in a second. Because Sean’s telling Derrick… oh, wait… hear, listen for yourself:

“You want it, don’t you, man?”

The bed is quiet now. Nobody’s moving.

“Just say you do. Say the word.”

Nothing. Derrick’s stopped moving. I’ve stopped breathing. The world’s stopped spinning.

Sean’s behind him, and I know Sean’s fingers are on Derrick’s broad shoulders, that his mouth is on Derrick’s neck, that he’s ready, that he’s poised.

“Say the word.”

For once, Derrick’s not the front man. For once, his need to rule the stage has evaporated.

“Yeah,” he says. That’s all he says. And now Sean’s off the bed, to the shelf to get the lube, and Derrick’s pulled out of me, but he’s next to me on the bed, and I feel his fear again, and I love him a little bit more for having that fear.

“Let her go,” Derrick says, and I turn to see what Sean thinks about this. He doesn’t say a word. He unlocks the cuffs, unties the leather straps.

“Do me,” Derrick says, and I am liquid. I push back on the edge of the bed, to the far corner of that California King, and I watch as Derrick is bound down. Sean uses the same cuffs, the same ties. But he doesn’t put in the gag, doesn’t use the blindfold. Now, there’s lube, and there’s sweat, and Sean is ready once more, right behind Derrick. And Derrick says to me, “Hold my hand.”

My heart dips, and I grip his hand in both of mine, and I squeeze tight, and I know that we’re in this together. This whole funky, kinky, sweaty, dirty mess of it. Sean has Derrick’s cheeks spread apart, and he has his cock ready, right there at the hole. And I move slightly, so I can wrap my fist around Sean’s shaft, and I am the one who makes the connection. I am the one who forces that first thrust.

And oh, dear god, what have we become? We’re sex incarnate. We are what your mother warned you about. What can happen when you take the lid off the box, when you set the sinners free.

I move back, and I hold Derrick’s hand, and I kiss his sweet face, and I lick his full lips. He is in that space, dear fucking lord, do I know that space. Where the pain is so strong at first that you don’t know whether you can continue. That pressure at your hole, that sensation of being ripped apart. And then Sean is moving, slipping in the lube, filling Derrick’s ass, and I see the change. I see the shift in Derrick’s eyes as he feels the pleasure, and I want to lick every bit off of him. I want to devour him. I have never been this close to a man being fucked before, so close, I am nearly inside of him. I touch him everywhere, my palms stroking his body. My lips moving from his cheekbones to his jawline. I taste his skin, his sweat, his soul.

Sean is moving to a rhythm that makes sense. He is starting with easy, straight strokes, but I know he’s going to speed up the song. I know he’s going to kick that beat. Derrick groans, and shudders, and I slide off the bed. I am at his side. I move one hand under his body. He’s got more slack in his bindings than I had. Sean’s made sure. I wrap my small hand around his large cock, and I grip him while Sean fucks him.

How did we get here? From that one night at the bar, when Sean saw me through his curls to this hot spot in hell where anything is possible.

Sean croons, “Say the words, man. Tell me that you like it.” That’s my Sean—needing to talk and needing to hear. This is the one constant in our relationship. He never is quiet, and unless I’ve got a gag on, he won’t allow me to be silent, either.

I have one hand on Derrick’s dick and the other between my own legs. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on in my life. Derrick shuts his eyes. I watch him. He doesn’t think he can speak, but I know from past experience that Sean always gets what he wants. “Say it, D.”

There’s a low moan first. The lead singer’s lost his ability to front. Derrick’s trying to find his words. Then, “Please, Sean. Just keep fucking me. Please, keep fucking me.”

I come on that. Pinching my clit so hard, grinding my thighs together. And I feel the moment when Derrick stiffens, know that he’s going to cover my fingers with his spend. Know from the look in Sean’s eyes that we’re all going to climax in seconds of one another. Sean waits, lets Derrick groan and arch, lets him pound the mattress with his hips and dirty my palm. Then he bucks once more, twice more, and pulls out. He shoots on Derrick’s back, and I can’t help myself, I trace my Derrick-sticky fingers in the thickness. I want both of their essences on my skin.

Sean’s eyes find mine. I can feel him watching. I wonder if he saw this scene when he first spied me at the club. If he knew somehow that I’d be the girl to bridge their gap. Because hadn’t they really wanted to fuck each other this whole damn time?

I was just the catalyst. The match to strike the flame.

The “and a one, and a two” before the rocking begins.

Called a “Trollop with a Laptop” by East Bay Express, a “Literary Siren” by Good Vibrations, and “over caffeinated” by her favorite local barista,
Alison Tyler
has made being naughty a full-time job. Her sultry short stories have appeared in more than 100 anthologies including
Sex for America
,
Liaison
s, and
Bedding Down
. In all things important, she remains faithful to her partner of 15 years, but she still can’t choose just one perfume. Find her night or day at
alisontyler.com
.