Shaun excuses herself to pass out in one of the two bedrooms. Meanwhile Bob and Kristen continue pawing at each other on the couch. Theoretically one bed remains open, though it’s awfully difficult to imagine anything happening on this front, particularly given this exact dynamic, the three of us sitting on the living room floor and Debbie playing both sides concurrently. Nobody has commented upon this phenomenon, but we’ve all seen enough to recognize exactly what’s happening. And at this point, she suggests the three of us just ride back to our place together, in Dylan’s truck. Which admittedly does sound like an awesome plan.
With a cheerful adieu to the necking lovers, we climb into Dylan’s cab, Debbie in the middle, and make the twenty minute trek across town. Under ordinary circumstances maybe bringing the dregs of her Captain Morgan along might have made sense, except we happen to have a gigantic bottle of such at our place as well — this relatively newfound love for spiced rum perhaps the most lasting vestige of our seafaring shtick. Although it’s debatable whether our intrepid swashbuckling crew leader is doing us any favors, with his sword and maniacal grin not so much guarding the contents within but daring you to devour them. Within a half hour of arriving here, despite the overhead lights blazing away in both this living room and the nearby kitchen, I can feel myself nodding off on my own couch.
“Look at him! He’s falling asleep!” Debbie observes, almost as a teacher might scold one of her pupils. Followed by the taunting boast, “I’ll bet I could wake him up.”
I’m doing my best to fight this, because it does feel as though my very stake in this enterprise is a tenuous one, and wholly depends upon remaining awake right now. Although this seating arrangement is doing no favors, each of us flung onto the disconnected flotsam of three separate furniture pieces. But every time my eyes are threatening to weld themselves shut, Debbie is shouting my name, imploring me to revive myself this instant. Then soon turns instead to suggesting I figure out something for us to do.
“Okay,” I declare, bringing my hands together in a single clap, and holding them there, like a tour guide about to explain the day’s itinerary, “everyone take off their shirts.”
All parties present are more than willing to comply, and this pattern will soon repeat itself right on down the increasingly less clothed line. I momentarily threaten to doze off, Debbie shouts my name, and I awaken with a start to announce the next clothing piece we shall all three remove. Pants, socks, and finally underwear are all tossed aside in this manner, until we sit in our disparate posts, entirely nude.
Throughout this process, Dylan mostly just smokes cigarettes and stares absently at some point halfway up the ceiling, as though lost in thought. We’ve all come up with angles to play in matters such as these, I suppose. In the past, we have been through countless situations such as these, although in our younger days, they almost always tended to end, at least on the night in question, with everyone just sitting around naked for a while before putting their clothes back on. It helps that we are now a little more seasoned, and have a better idea on how to course correct — basically, you just keep pushing that edge, and if it winds up going nowhere, then this is no different than the outcome from doing nothing. However, it also helps that the female in question in a little older, and not nearly as trepidatious as previous experiment candidates. Still, to his eternal credit Dylan, though he could have likely made some suggestion about the two of them heading upstairs together — a scenario to which I imagine Debbie would have agreed — has a novel new idea, instead, for solving this dilemma.
“You said you knew how to ski?” he says to her, with a twisted smirk.
“Yeah?”
“I was thinking,” he says, and demonstrates by making both of his hands into fists, holding one out at each of his sides, and moving them up and down. I start laughing at this bit of insider code, a reference to a similar situation he and Joe found themselves in years ago. “You should show us how you…ski…”
“Oh, okay,” Debbie returns, flashing us a broad smile as she finally gets it, “that is…not a problem!”
They drift over to the couch I am on, the floral print one, as we repeat the exact seating arrangement from our truck ride over here. Without any additional fanfare, an even less coaxing, Debbie begins jerking both of us off at the same time.
Matters will only escalate from here. Soon we are on the living room floor where, as I’m getting her lubed up with some oral, she is blowing him. From here we will proceed to trading off now and then, one guy banging Debbie, the other with his dick in her mouth, for as long as this will last. It’s really hard to say, as we aren’t exactly consulting timepieces.
Regarding the experience itself, this makes for a great story and all, and its aftershocks reach far and wide, yet I definitely wouldn’t declare this my ideal mode of operation. A memorable enough maiden voyage, to be sure, though fairly seasickness inducing when Dylan blows his load against the side of the brown couch. Call me squeamish, but while two girls and yours truly would be welcome pretty much any time, I don’t see myself repeating this configuration again, barring some outlandish scenario where an insanely hot chick would only sleep with multiple guys at once or something.
It’s certainly riveting enough for one night, though, or make that early morning. The next thing I know, it’s daylight. We have continued sipping at our adult beverages throughout, here and there in spare moments catching our breaths, and Dylan just rain upstairs to take a leak. Debbie seizes this moment to fling me atop the brown couch, then climb aboard my body and begin grinding away. Although I must admit that, while never busting a nut during these proceedings, my flag is only at half-mast now.
“Hey, what’s going on there?” Debbie questions.
For starters, though a hilarious event, I wouldn’t claim this is the most erotic experience in the world. Beyond that, though, as if the hour, the duration, and the alcohol aren’t explanation enough, another thought pops into my head. While officially the calendar changed at midnight, in my mind if you are still awake, then it is the same day. You don’t after all refer to an evening on the town as two straight days spent at the bar, just because you arrived at eleven and left at two. Therefore I begin chuckling to consider an extension of what just happened here.
“Well, if you want to get technical, I did already have sex once earlier today…”
Which is also a first. And though Debbie clicks her tongue, taking umbrage with this explanation, continuing to fuck me until Dylan returns, I am not the least bit critical of my performance here tonight/today. The real question is, once we eventually all fall asleep, where things might possibly progress from here.
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He’ll do anything to keep her safe… including keeping her
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The first rule of dealing with an alpha male vampire? Don’t let him think he owns you.
Merri: Being “claimed” by a possessive vampire was so not on my to-do list. But here I am, with Baden declaring me his One. Picture me eye-rollin’. I’m working my way through grad school by day and ride-share gigs by night, which is more than enough for this BBW. So why does his clenched jaw, crimson eyes and aphrodisiac scent make me want to crawl onto his lap and live there? I thought I’d be smarter than this after seeing my parent’s relationship. But it turns out, escaping an OTT possessive mate isn’t as easy as it sounds… especially when I’m not sure I even want to.
Baden: Merri is my One. And I’m no happier about it than she is. I’ve already lost one woman I loved, and I’m in no hurry to lose — or love — another. But she’s stealing my thoughts like she did my parking spot. Which shouldn’t be fun, but Merri is everything I never expected — brilliant, stubborn, and driving me mad. A little sass never bothered me, but that damn ride-share job? That’s a problem. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe — even if it means keeping her all to myself.
