Forrest, Dawn - Sweet Water Wedding: Sharing Shannon (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (30 page)

At that moment any doubts he may have had fled. Shannon, their woman, couldn’t get enough of them, and he didn’t think he’d ever get enough of her. Unfortunately he wasn’t going to get the chance to bask in the snug, warm delight of her pussy. James pushed him off her with a desperation Luke had never seen before, and buried his face between her legs. He tongued her hard and fast. Luke watched as Shannon writhed, clutching at the cloth she lay on. He saw James lick her from ass to clit and then suck on the sweet nubbin like a baby on its mama’s teat.

Shannon howled, “Oh, God, it’s too much!” as she came again, but she didn’t tell James to stop. Instead she cried, “I need you inside me now!”

When James lifted his head Luke thought that the man looked almost rabid. His face was wet with her juices, his expression wild with passion, and his cock the biggest Luke had ever seen. James swiftly impaled her, coming to rest balls deep, with an animalistic cry thrown from his throat. He waited for a moment, clearly savoring the feel of her hot, wet cunt clasping him. Then, when she tilted her hips and pushed up, he went at her like a man possessed.

Shannon became a thing of raw need and savage passion and it was a sight to behold. She unclasped her legs from around James’s waist, letting her legs fall further open and pushed herself up on her elbows and feet to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck me, fuck me harder,” she demanded through gritted teeth.

With a deep growl James pulled out, flipped her over, and pulled her up onto all fours and straight back onto his glistening cock. It was all Luke could do to only watch and not grab her hair and shove his cock into that passion slackened mouth. Christ, James was really going at her now, plowing deep and hard and she was pushing back against him, yelling, “Yes, yes, yes.”

He’d never before seen James be so utterly beyond control as he was now, ravishing Shannon. He’d never seen a woman so unreserved in wanting it all. They copulated like animals rutting in mating season. Luke could hear the loud slap of James’s balls against her pussy. Then Shannon reared up and James held her tightly to him, his arms crossed over at her waist. She howled and shuddered while he roared and flexed his hips one last time. Holy fuck.

“Are you okay, baby?” Luke asked after what seemed an eternity.

She held out her arms to him and James released her, his cock slipping out as she fell into Luke’s arms. James flopped down onto the blanket and rolled to the side, making room for both him and Shannon. He gently laid her next to James, cuddled up to her and softly kissed her cheek.

“Shannon, are you okay?” James repeated the question. “I…I got a bit carried away. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I got carried away, too, and I’m not sorry,” she said, ruffling James hair with a dreamy look on her face. “I love you both.”

Those four words jolted his heart. He looked over her shoulder at James and saw the reflection of what he was feeling on his face. They lay together and their breathing eased and settled as they all drifted off into a post coital nap.

* * * *

It was early evening, an hour before sunset when they reached the first camp. Shannon was relieved because for the last half an hour she’d felt a little uncomfortable and tender between her thighs, as she’d rocked gently in the saddle.

Shannon could see only a little evidence of previous human occupation. There was a circle of stones and blackened earth, a large pile of wood, two long horizontal tree trunks that she guessed were used for sitting on, a cooking tripod, and a metal box which James said held some emergency supplies. There were a few trees, but the surrounding ground was mainly covered in grass and low scrub. She had noticed that the farther they moved from the river the fewer trees there were. They removed the saddles and bridles and gave the horses a rubdown. About thirty-five yards away from the camp there was a chain staked into the ground and Luke tethered the horses to it. It was long enough to allow them to graze and reach the water.

Shannon watched as James started a fire with a little lighter fuel and some dried grass. He moved with a precision and competence that she envied. As he worked he explained that when they next came this way with vehicles they would replenish the wood supply.

“We try not to disturb the land too much. The small collapsible shovel is for digging a hole and burying your business, the paper bags are for used toilet paper if we have a fire to burn it on. Basically pick a direction away from the water, walk at least thirty yards, stamp your feet and double check for snakes, dig, squat, and cover. Simple.”

“What, no bidet?” She faked shock. She’d camped in much worse spots on her travels.

“Nah, you’ll have to wash your ass in the water hole.”

“The same water that we’ll be drinking from? Eeuw!”

“Not today, I filled up the canteens from the river, but yeah, sometimes we use the water here. I have a small hand pump filter that takes out germs and bacteria but it is a bit of a mission. It’s easier to strain the water through some cloth and then leave it in the pot over the fire. Most bugs are killed after twenty minutes of boiling. I’ll also boil the river water to be on the safe side.”

Soon they had some hot coffee and ate a simple meal of spaghetti with bolognaise sauce from a foil packet. She found it surprisingly tasty. There was some of Isabella’s homemade pecan pie for pudding. Rug had a bowl of pellets. It was a warm evening and Shannon marveled at the beautiful orange and purple hues of the big, open sky as the sun sank low on the horizon.

“I brought along a little treat,” Luke said, rifling through a pack. He produced a bottle of Green Spot.

“Wow,” chirped Shannon in delight. “Pure pot stilled Irish Whiskey. Okay, I’m definitely keeping you.” She grinned at him in delight. “You remembered that I’m partial to a little
uisce beatha
.” When he looked blank she added, “That’s the ancient Gaelic word for whiskey, which literally translated means ‘water of life.’”

“I’ll not argue with that.” He chuckled, pouring them all a generous measure. “To all delicious Irish things.” He toasted, clinking his enamel cup against hers and James’s.

James asked her about her family and she found herself talking about her mother and how, because of her strong Catholic convictions her mother hadn’t accepted the divorce from her father. It was something she often found very difficult to discuss. They listened patiently.

“It was horrible. I felt so sorry for my mother, but there wasn’t any love left between them. Anyway, times change, Ireland modernized, and my dad managed to get his divorce years later and marry the mother of his three younger daughters. As far as my mother is concerned she is still married in the eyes of God and the church until death do they part and she hasn’t allowed love into her life again.”

“That’s sad. Are you close to your mom?” James asked as Luke got up and threw a small log on the fire. Sparks flew into the approaching night air.

She answered honestly. “I love her, but no, we aren’t really close, I’m not religious and we have little in common. Truth be told I get on better with my dad. My brothers don’t live too far away and they see her and occasionally go to church with her.”

“I guess because my parents aren’t alive I consider what family I have got to be really important. Would a relationship with us cause a problem for you?”

How could she tell them that it would go over about as well as a pregnant pole-vaulter?

“Maybe, it would depend.”

“On what?”

“On how much I tell them,” she sighed. “I wouldn’t want to lie but I think me Ma would go ballistic. Me Da would probably be okay, eventually. Me brothers would probably want to kill you.” She gave as joyless chuckle. Her accent thickened as it always did when she was bothered about something. Despite her attempted cool demeanor, it gave her away.

“James and I have been brought up in ménage families, and it’s easy for us to forget that others may have a real objection to it,” Luke said as he sat back down next to her.

Shannon sighed. “Out here I’m finding it hard to be too worried about anything. It seems as if just
being
is enough. Thanks for bringing me. I didn’t realize how much I needed a break.”

For the first time in a while she felt cozy and peaceful and it wasn’t just because of the whiskey.

“Now I feel a bit selfish.” Luke said. “We’re not exactly letting you get some rest and relaxation.”

“No, don’t be daft. I’m having a great time. Anyway, they say that a change is as good as a rest.”

In reality she’d had a lot of changes and she did need a rest, so it wasn’t really a relevant remark, but she didn’t want them to feel bad about pursuing her, and she was enjoying herself.

James stood up. “We’d better do our ablutions before it gets too dark, the water is fine for brushing teeth as long as you don’t swallow too much.”

Shannon reckoned she only needed a quick “lick and a promise” of a wash. They’d done a thorough job in the river earlier that afternoon, after waking up from their Olympian, sweaty, sex-induced nap.

She stood up to get her wash bag and groaned in discomfort. “Oh goodness, my legs are starting to stiffen up. It’s been a while since I’ve ridden.”

“I have some of Isabella’s homemade ligament rub. I’ll give you a massage, but first we’d better use what’s left of the fading twilight to wash by.”

Later, refreshed and relaxed but with aching thigh and butt muscles, Shannon lay back on her bed roll as James and Luke applied the aromatic oil and began to massage her sore legs.

“Ahhh, ooo, ahhh.” She moaned at the bliss and agony of it.

“I’m sorry, love, but if we don’t loosen your muscles now you’ll really be in pain in the morning. Turn over.”

She lay on her stomach. “Hey, what are you doing?” she cried as James peeled off her nighttime boxer shorts.

“Shush, I can’t do your butt with your shorts on,” he explained.

“Okay, but no funny business, I’m too sore,” she grouched.

“Really, what kind of a cad do you take me for?”

“The opportunistic kind, the pragmatic kind, to use your own words.”

“Oh yeah, I did say that didn’t I?”

Sighing deeply, James got to work, rubbing into the tense muscles of her upper leg and butt with his thumbs, working out the knots. Luke did the same with her other leg.

They rolled her gently onto her back again and spread her legs just wide enough for her to feel the cooler evening air waft across her warm, moist skin, but not enough to hurt her muscles. They were staring between her legs, both biting their bottom lips. She closed her eyes, feeling a little exposed and a lot like an all you can eat buffet.

“Er, guys, I’m sore from riding and a bit tender from being ridden.” She felt embarrassed to own up to it, but she’d never get back in the saddle tomorrow if they went at it again like a hammer and nails.

“Damn, were we too rough?” James looked stricken.

“No, no, it was great, definitely worth it, but I haven’t had as much sex as this in a while.”
Ever.
“I’ll be okay tomorrow, but penetration would be uncomfortable just now.”

“Ok. Just relax, Shannon,” Luke cooed.

His tongue gently dipped into her wet folds. She wasn’t expecting it and gave a little yelp, which morphed into a soft moan of pleasure.

“And let me kiss it better.”

He was an exceptional pussy eater, applying perfect pressure and tempo. He didn’t rush but took his time, conveying the pleasure he had for the act with sounds of appreciation. His tongue explored away from her clit, probing between the soft folds, but always returned to torment her again in time to maintain the momentum.

James lay next to her, caressing her breasts, tweaking her nipples, and whispering all kinds of kinky fantasies. Soon her sore thighs achingly registered their protest as she clamped them around Luke’s head and rode his mouth to a crashing climax. Throwing back her head she yelled a primal cry into the still night air. A few seconds later they heard a coyote’s answering call and a whine from Rug.