Seduce Me Tonight (17 page)

Both men chuckled, sounding relaxed and pleased by their efforts. Embarrassed by my outburst, I grabbed the pillow and pulled it over my head to stifle my cries as Eric began to eat me out in earnest.

‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ Joe said, pulling the pillow from my face. ‘I want to hear every whimper and squeak. I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.’

I wanted to ask him what he meant when he said he’d been waiting, but I couldn’t catch my breath. Eric was devouring my pussy, licking and sucking at my labia like he was starving and I was dinner. I pressed my hand over my mouth despite Joe’s protests, and cried out. I wouldn’t last long at this rate.

Joe, determined to stay in the game, began nibbling his way from my neck down to my breasts. When his mouth closed around my nipple at the exact moment Eric’s lips began sucking at my clit, I thought I was going to levitate off the bed. The dual sensations were too much for my already heightened senses and I could feel my stomach clenching as I began to come. I grasped the backs of both their heads and held them in place as I rode out the most exquisite orgasm I had ever experienced. Everything tingled, every nerve ending responding to their mouths, the sensations travelling along my skin, my body going rigid as I clung to them and rode out my orgasm.

Eric spoke first, after what seemed like several long minutes of only my heavy breathing filling the air.

‘Well, that was quick.’

We all laughed, whatever tension there might have been dissolved like my inhibitions.

‘Had to get the first one out of the way,’ Joe said, stretching out on the bed next to me. ‘Now we can take our time.’

I found myself glancing at his erection, then looking quickly away in embarrassment, only to sneak another look when I stretched and sat up. I had no idea why I was feeling so shy

‘Sweetheart, you can do more than look.’ Joe’s dry wit came from years of dealing with the law. I had no idea where his hedonistic ways came from.

I looked at Eric, who was grinning the way I’d seen him grin before he went off on one of his adventures. There was no sense of regret or hesitancy in his expression. Joe looked equally eager to get on with things. Now that I was coming down from my orgasmic rush, I searched my emotions for some sign that I might want to back out of this and be the tease in this three-way party. But I felt nothing but love and anticipation – and a growing sense of renewed arousal as I watched Joe’s cock jump under my steady gaze.

‘Seriously, Nina, you’re torturing me here,’ he said, and he did actually sound like he was in pain. ‘If you want to back out, I’ll understand, but if you don’t –’

I leaned over and took him in my mouth. I think it was the first time ever that Joe hadn’t completed a sentence. I giggled around the head of his cock, which was both familiar and strange after so many years with Eric. But it was strange in that exciting way something new seems strange – the strangeness quickly fading to be replaced by curiosity and a need to rise to the challenge of pleasing him. Wondering how he would respond if I flicked my tongue this way or that, feeling the urge to bit down in that way Eric liked, but doing it carefully to see if it was something Joe would appreciate. He did, groaning as he pushed his hips up and drove his cock another inch into my mouth. I stretched my mouth to accommodate him, making an appreciative sound that vibrated around him and made him gasp.

My eyes were closed, so I didn’t know what Eric was up to until I felt his hands on my hips, raising me on my hands and knees. I groaned around Joe’s cock again, amused by the way he gasped and tugged my hair.

‘You’re driving me mad, woman,’ he said. ‘I can’t take much more.’

‘We have all night,’ Eric reminded him, nudging the head of his cock between my thighs.

I felt him at my entrance and I widened my stance while keeping Joe entertained. I couldn’t voice my desire, but I needed to be filled. Now.

Eric granted my silent wish, pushing ever so slowly into my wetness. I groaned, my throat muscles vibrating around Joe’s cock. He had given up all attempts at composure and was driving his cock into my mouth almost to the point of making me gag. I wrapped one hand around his shaft to control his motions while Eric shoved his entire length into me. It was an amazing sensation, taking Joe to the back of my throat while feeling Eric so deep inside me. Why had I never tried this before?

There was no time to consider my future threesome plans because the men had found a rhythm between them. Eric’s strokes pushed me to take Joe’s cock deeper in my throat, while Joe’s tugs on my hair to keep my strokes going served to make me move back on Eric’s cock. Back and forth, they seesawed me for the purposes of their pleasure – but I was the one enjoying it the most. Pleasuring two men this way, satisfying them both while enjoying myself, was more than I could take. I could feel another orgasm rising in me, making me breathe harder and take my mouth off Joe’s cock.

Joe groaned at the sudden lack of friction and I stroked him with my hand, looking up into his face as I came on Eric’s cock. I was slipping into some other mental space, feeling wild and wanton in a way I never had before. Completely out of my mind with lust, I pushed back on Eric’s cock, seeking to maximise every sensation my body was feeling.

Eric drove into me hard, rough in his own lustful need. My knees went out from under me, my upper body collapsing across Joe, his cock rubbing erotically against my breasts. He moaned, Eric moaned, I screamed, every muscle in my body going tense as I strained for release.

Eric pulled my hair up in his hand, murmuring, ‘Take him in your mouth again.’

Still caught up in my own need, I could only whimper. Then he did something that only served to send me hurtling into an orgasm as intense as the first one – he leaned over me, grasped Joe’s cock in his hand and guided my mouth down over the head. I gasped in shock and arousal, watching Eric’s big hand around Joe’s thick cock. And then, as Joe slipped to the back of my throat once more and my lips brushed Eric’s hand holding the base of his cock on the down strokes, I started to come.

Eric released my hair, but kept his hand around Joe’s shaft, whispering in my ear, ‘I’m going to come so deep inside you, baby. You look so sexy.’

I went as far down on Joe’s cock as I could and felt Eric slip a finger inside my mouth alongside Joe’s shaft.

I groaned as Joe tensed, then released a hot thick shower of come across my tongue. Eric resumed thrusting into me, clearly not wanting to be left behind, and within moments was joining Joe in flooding my body with semen. I whimpered and groaned between them, my poor body wrung out from the multitude of sensations.

I was still stretched across Joe and now Eric was stretched across me. As the high from my orgasm started to subside, I started to be uncomfortable in the middle of this man sandwich.

‘You can release your death grip on my wang now,’ Joe said, his sense of humour still firmly in place despite our amorous adventures.

‘Sorry,’ Eric said. ‘I got caught up in things.’

‘No worries.’ Joe stroked my hair. ‘I rather enjoyed the entire experience. Who knows what might have happened if this one hadn’t practically swallowed me whole. A man can only take so much.’

Eric laughed. ‘Don’t I know it.’

I listened to their conversation without comment, my imagination whirring over Joe’s offhanded ‘Who knows what might have happened.’ I found myself wanting to explore exactly what he meant – and just how far both of them were willing to go. I squirmed from between them and looked at them lying side by side on the bed, Eric’s body at right angles to Joe’s, still close to Joe’s crotch. The thought – the possibilities – stirred something in me. It wasn’t arousal, not yet anyway, but it was getting there.

Eric laughed. ‘You look like the cat that just ate the canary, babe.’

‘You have no idea,’ I said, smiling wider. ‘But you might, before the night is over.’

Joe shook his head. ‘You’re going to break us both, aren’t you?’

‘No doubt.’ I ran a fingertip along his limp cock, watching it twitch under my light touch. ‘And you’re going to thoroughly ravish me, too.’

They both reached for me at the same time and tumbled me down across their supine bodies in a tangle of limbs and sheets and pillows tossed every which way. We laughed for a long time. And then we explored all the things three people can do in a bed.

I think it took me twenty minutes to get out of the car and make my way up the stairs to the second floor, occasionally squinting at the apartment number I had scribbled on my notebook. I found it, at the end overlooking the rear parking lot, and spent what seemed like another twenty minutes looking at the door in front of me. Three stickers with the names of rock bands I vaguely recognised – though I wasn’t entirely sure they
were
rock bands – and the mangled cord of a pair of ear buds hanging from the doorknob were the only clues that this was a college kid’s apartment. I decided that this must be the low point of my life.

The problem with returning to college at the age of thirty-five is that everywhere I look on the expansive campus, I see someone who could be my kid. OK, maybe not my kid – but almost. This is not a good thing. I don’t know when or how thirty-five snuck up on me, but it did. Everyone says I don’t look thirty-five, but more importantly, I don’t
feel
thirty-five. It doesn’t matter, though. I’m thirty-five and that means half of the students on campus are about half my age. It was demoralising to even contemplate, but if the campus were to be quarantined in the event of a zombie apocalypse, everyone would be looking to me for mature, maternal leadership.
Damn
.

Being a graduate student only helps a little. It’s true that a lot of people in graduate school programmes are older – there are even a few students who are older than me – but with the new accelerated programmes, there are plenty of kids in my classes. Kids who just started drinking legally and who think the 90s are cool because they’re retro. Truth is, I don’t usually mind being the oldest chick in the room. I get along better with people who are younger than me, but it’s hard to keep up with the slang, never mind the technology, and sometimes I feel my age.

It was a computer project that was kicking my ass. I can write a twenty-page paper, no problem, but tell me to do something with computer-based presentation and I’m like a deer in headlights. My brother Charlie is always after me to take a class at the local library, but I’m getting my M.A. in English, not engineering, so I figured I could muddle through with the basics of word-processing. That was until I got an English professor who wanted us to ‘think outside the box’ and create a multimedia presentation for our semester project.

I’d gotten married right out of undergrad, young and idealistic and thinking there would be plenty of time to start a real career. I was in love and content with receptionist jobs – about the only thing I was good at – until my ex took off five years ago and I realised I had essentially been making the same amount of money for eight years while he’d worked his way up the corporate ladder. I couldn’t even afford to pay the mortgage on the house we owned, so he’d bought out my half and promptly moved his twenty-two-year-old girlfriend in with him. I’d decided I needed to do something meaningful with my life and put my half of the house money towards getting a Master’s degree. Now, facing the complications of computer software, I was thinking I should’ve just bought myself a little condo and kept answering phones until I retired.

Dr Davis – who told us to call him Nathan and was sexy as sin but reconciling with his ex, if the rumours were true – had given me the number of his teaching assistant. Matthew Wheaton was apparently not only an excellent English Literature student, he was also a whiz with computers. He probably looked like a baby-faced sixteen-year-old kid, but on the phone he sounded like an adult. He had a deep, soothing voice, the kind that wouldn’t be out of place in a radio announcer, and was good-humoured as I stumbled my way through what I needed.

‘Sure, I can help you. No problem,’ he had said and those few words had been enough to ease the tension my shoulders. Until I actually had to meet with him, of course.

I had suggested he come over to the house, but either he was one of those super eco-friendly types or he’d already acquired enough DUIs to get his licence revoked because he’d politely nixed the idea. ‘I don’t have a car. But I live right off campus if you want to come by after class.’

So there I was nervously knocking on the door of Matthew’s right-off-campus apartment, vowing to take a computer class over the summer and never, ever feel this helpless again, when someone spoke behind me.

‘Sorry, I ran out for some stuff and it took longer than I thought.’

I jumped and spun, nearly stumbling. Though I hadn’t spoken to him before, I recognised Matthew from around campus. He had the boyish good looks of a college nerd who didn’t realise his potent charm, with caramel-coloured hair that needed a trim, black-framed glasses and piercing green eyes that crinkled in the corners when he smiled. He wore dark jeans, a T-shirt of one of the bands on the door, and brown sandals, the early fall weather still nice enough for summer outfits. He smiled crookedly and my heart started hammering in my chest like some adolescent girl with a crush. I pulled myself together and tried to act my age.

‘Hey,’ I said, sounding like a croaking frog.

‘You’re Andrea, right?’

‘Oh, right. Sorry.’ This geeky college guy had me stumbling over myself and we weren’t even in his apartment yet. ‘Dr Davis – Nathan – said you’d be able to help me with this presentation.’

‘I have all sorts of skills,’ he said with a wink that was more playful than lascivious. For some reason, I didn’t think he even knew
how
to leer at a woman.

I found myself wondering what his other skill sets might encompass, but I didn’t ask.

He manoeuvred past me, opened the door to his apartment and tossed the tangled ear buds onto a kitchen table, followed by the bag of groceries he had been carrying. ‘I was wondering where those went to. Come on in.’