Give Me More (Salacious Players’ Club)

Drake

I suddenly understand what all the fuss is about. Watching Hunter unload in Isabel’s mouth lights a fire inside me, like a fucking inferno in my groin.

I’ve been in threesomes before. Fuck, I’ve been in foursomes, and one time…an awkward fivesome, but the point is that none of those times ever felt as explosive as this. Everything with these two just hits different.

And seeing her tied to this bench is fucking filthy. I always knew Isabel had a hidden kinky side, but I had no idea it was this kinky. I love how adventurous she is. It makes me want to do everything I can with her.

Hold up…pump the fuckin’ brakes. I’m not supposed to be getting attached or wanting more. It’s just a vacation full of kinky, wild fucking and then when we get back to Briar Point, it’s back to reality.

Except I’ll be living with them.

Just down the hall. With the memory of this moment—and every other one—swimming through my head. How the hell am I supposed to go back to how things were in those conditions? What is going to stop me from bending her over the dining room table Hunter is eating at? Or crawling into their bed to lick her pussy while he sleeps, making her scream loud enough to wake him up? The temptation will be unbearable.

Speaking of, Isabel lets out a loud whimper as her legs begin to shake, and I realize I literally lost myself in fucking her. I’m on the brink of my climax, but I’m not ready to be done yet. Now that I’ve accepted just how terminal this arrangement is, I want to make every time last.

Hunter is back in his chair across the room, stroking his spent cock back to life as he watches us. And I get an idea.

He wants to watch me fuck his wife…well, then maybe he wants a closer view.

When I pull out of Isabel, she lets out a loud, needy cry. But I move fast, grabbing the keys from the bowl on the dresser and quickly undoing her restraints. The moment her hands and legs are free, she’s on me, kissing me and wrapping her legs around me. And I’m just as eager to hold her.

This is only our second time together, but I’m already noticing the way Isabel and I fit together. Like we were made for each other. Every move she makes, I anticipate. Every touch, every kiss, every moment is perfect.

Who the fuck am I?

I’m a scoundrel, not some pussy-whipped, clingy boyfriend type. And I intend to prove it as I carry her over to her husband, who immediately sits up when he sees that I’m about to deposit her on his lap.

“Hold her,” I say as I lay her down on him, spreading her knees open for me. Then, I drop to my knees in front of her, align my cock with her warm cunt, looking down at the place where I’m about to enter her. I pause here, teasing her as she squirms and waits, but before I thrust inside, I spit, my saliva landing against her clit. With my fingers, I moisten her folds, and she keens and squirms even more. God, I love how much she wants it.

Hunter takes her wrists in one hand, holding them above her as she rests her head against his shoulder. With her legs draped over his, she is completely at our mercy again, succumbing to our dirty desires with so much trust. I rake a hand over her chest just to feel her heart beating wildly beneath my touch.

Then, after I’ve made her wait long enough, I thrust inside her. She yelps, then groans, her back arching against Hunter’s naked body. My hips brush against the inside of his thighs, but it’s too late to ask if this is too much for him. If he was uncomfortable with this close contact, he would stop it. I trust that he’s controlling enough to tell me if it’s too much.

I’m watching her face as I fuck her. The carnal expression and the light sheen of sweat on her red-flushed skin is so goddamn beautiful.

But I force myself to look away from her intense eye contact because I’m trying not to get attached, but where do my eyes wander? Straight to Hunter’s face. Probably because he’s watching me. And as I thrust between his legs, brushing up against his thighs, I realize how much it looks and feels as if I’m fucking him. Did I do this on purpose?

He’s not looking away. He’s just staring at me, looking turned on as hell as I fuck his wife on his lap. Still with his gaze glued to my face, he reaches down and strums at her clit. She shrieks and howls, urging him on, so he can take her to the orgasm she’s so clearly earned.

Suddenly, I’m feeling bold. My left hand, currently on her thigh, starts to drift. I have to look away from him as I do it, but I pretend it’s from the jostling of my thrusts, and I nudge my hold inward until I’m gripping his thigh. And I wait.

When he doesn’t react, I look up at his face again. He’s breathing heavily, his mouth slightly parted as his licks his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth.

This feels…like something powerful. Am I imagining this? I’m holding his leg and he’s biting his lip as he stares at me.

Then…his fingers move. They drift from her clit downward until I feel the light brush of his touch against my cock. He’s holding her pussy, exploring this place where she and I are connected, and in doing so…he’s basically stroking my cock.

Fuck, I’m gonna come.

His lust-filled gaze is still on my face and this is all too fucking much.

“I’m almost there…don’t stop,” Isabel calls out, and I feel a wave of shame that I’ve been so focused on him, I barely considered her pleasure. So I keep up my cadence exactly the way it is, and Hunter’s hand remains, two fingers on either side of my cock, when Isabel finally clenches up in his arms. With a high-pitched moan, she trembles her way through a climax that looks as if she’s being possessed. Her naked, sweaty body seizes up, and the urge to fill her up is unbearable.

Of course, instead of really filling her up, I fill the condom hugging my dick, but it’s still earth-shattering nonetheless. My orgasm rips a long grunt out of my chest as my grasp on Hunter’s thigh tightens.

When I finally pull away from them, I don’t make it far. After quickly pulling the used condom off and tossing it into the trash, I collapse against the bed. When I look over at Hunter and Isabel, I half expect them to be so focused on each other that I’ll feel like a third wheel again. Instead, I’m almost pleased to find they’re both looking at me.

It’s almost three in the morning when I find myself standing alone in the kitchen, sitting in dark silence with only a bottle of water for company. Hunter and Isabel finally peeled themselves off the bed in my room, and he carried her to their own, where I’m sure he spoiled her with aftercare, and she quickly drifted off to sleep. I haven’t seen them since.

But I can’t sleep.

I seem to have woken up in the twilight zone or something because, all of a sudden, I don’t recognize my own life. I don’t have any regrets about what we’re doing—and I think that’s the problem. The sex is amazing. This whole trip has been amazing. But I haven’t been doing any of the regular stuff that I used to do.

I wake up and think of them. Every second of my day, I’m thinking of them. At night…it’s them.

And not just Isabel.

I’m a fucking idiot—that’s all it comes down to. I’ve muted this little infatuation with my best friend since I was old enough to realize that I liked Hunter a lot. I liked his company, but I also liked his body. His attention. The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles and the darkness of his eyes. I liked being one of the only people in the world who knows the real Hunter, who sees the tattoos and knows the dark secrets of his past.

Then my dumb ass had to go and agree to fuck his wife. Thinking for one damn second that I could separate the two. That I could do this without letting my stupid fucking heart get its hopes up.

Like tonight, for example. I pushed his limits. I put him in a situation he might not have been comfortable with because, apparently, I like to play with fire.

And he played back, which did not help my situation at all.

I’ve always been known to look into things a little too much. As a bisexual man, I have to know how to read people really, really well, because misjudging someone’s interest can end very badly for me. So, I’m always careful.

And what happened tonight felt like a pretty fucking clear sign. It was a giant billboard on the freeway. Lit up. With flashing lights.

He touched my cock, for fuck’s sake. He stared at me while biting his lip, letting me grip his leg while he touched my cock. Am I reading this situation correctly?

Is Hunter…into this? Into me?

Nope. It was just the heat of the moment. He probably barely even noticed me touching his leg, and he wasn’t intentionally touching my cock; he was just holding his wife’s pussy.

Pack up your hopes and dreams, Drake, you fucking idiot. He’s still as straight as they come, and that’s not going to change. It’s not anyone’s fault…it’s just the way it is.

A door opens down the hall, and I freeze. When I hear footsteps, I can tell by the heavy way they travel that it’s Hunter, and I immediately tense up.

“Hey,” he says groggily, when he notices me sitting in the dark like a villain waiting to attack.

“Hey,” I reply. “Can’t sleep?”

“I drifted off for a little bit, but then I woke up and realized I needed some water. What about you?”

I shrug. “Just enjoying the quiet for a minute.”

“Everything okay?” he asks, watching me skeptically.

“Yeah,” I reply quickly. “Everything okay with you?”

He nods. “Everything’s great.”

“And Isabel?”

He chuckles as he takes a swig from the water bottle. “She’s in there snoring, probably still smiling. I think she had more fun than anyone tonight.”

“You made sure she drank something before falling asleep, right? Gave her some time to relax after everything?”

He holds up a hand. “I took care of her, I promise.”

“Good,” I say with a slow nod, looking away toward the city lights through the large living room window.

“You know…maybe next time, you could be there for the aftercare. If it would make you feel better.”

I try not to read into that too much. He’s just being considerate. I’m not much of an aftercare kind of guy, but I can’t deny that taking care of Isabel does sound nice. “Sure,” I say with a shrug.

It’s quiet as he leans against the counter next to where I’m sitting on the barstool. In nothing but a pair of tight boxers, I struggle to keep my eyes forward and not let them cascade across the dark designs all over his abs to his chest.

He won’t break the silence, so I do it first.

“If I overstep, you’ll tell me, right?”

His head turns in my direction. “Of course.”

“I mean…” God, this is uncomfortable. “Between you and me.”

“Oh,” he replies, and I wait for him to finally express how tonight was probably too much for him and how I definitely shouldn’t get that close during sex ever again. “You won’t overstep, Drake. It’s fine.”

I force myself to swallow. Is this a joke to him? Because he can’t actually mean that. For once, I’d like him to just be honest and tackle the awkward conversations, so we don’t land in a place we can’t come back from. Instead, he’s forcing me to.

“No…I definitely could overstep, Hunter. You’re a straight man, and I’m not. If we’re going to keep…doing whatever we’re doing, you have to be upfront with me.”

He turns toward me. “Are you referring to what happened tonight? Drake, it was fine. It didn’t bother me.”

“I don’t want it to just not bother you. From now on…I’ll just keep my hands to myself,” I reply, wishing this painful conversation could have just never happened at all.

Silence stretches between us before he finally replies, “But I didn’t keep my hands to myself either.”

And my mouth goes dry. He just admitted it. He literally owned up to touching my cock on purpose and I have no idea where to go from here.

To my surprise, Hunter fills the quiet first. “Yeah, I’m straight, but I’ve known you my whole life, Drake. Touching you doesn’t fucking bother me.”

I stand for some reason. I’m too unsettled by this conversation, and it feels wrong to be sitting. He’s being too nonchalant about this and I’m afraid now that he’s being too compensating. He’s giving me what I want because I’m the one fulfilling his fantasy. And the more I think about that, the more I can’t stand it.

“That’s the problem, Hunt. There’s a big difference between liking something and not being bothered by it. And I’ve known you my whole fucking life too, long enough to know when something is up—and something is definitely up with you. I think you’re more bothered by it than you’re going to tell me, and I’m telling you…you don’t have to do that for me.”

“Come on, Drake. All this for a little touching? What is wrong with you?”

“Right now, it’s touching, but what happens when it’s more? How am I supposed to know you’re cool with it if you won’t—’

“Jesus Christ. Here,” he mutters, and then I’m struck silent because his hands are on my face and he’s pressing his soft lips against mine.

Hunter is kissing me.

My hands are hanging down by my sides because I did not see this coming and I’m too stunned to move. Why is he kissing me?

At first, it’s just lips pressed against lips, meant to prove a point. He’s perfectly happy touching me—I get it. But the seconds tick by and his mouth is still lingering on mine.

Ever so slowly, he pulls back, putting enough space between our mouths so he can look me in the eye, but his lips linger an inch from mine.

“I just want to try something,” he whispers, his breath brushing against my face, and the weight of those words land like a tidal wave. Because I know what’s coming next.

He’s kissing me again. But instead of the awkward brief kiss before, his lips part, and I feel his tongue gliding against the seam of my mouth. I don’t hesitate to let him in. The moment our tongues collide, I swear the apartment trembles. Or maybe the earth quakes or the universe implodes. I don’t know, but something cosmic as fuck takes place because my best friend and I are now officially making out in the kitchen in the middle of the night.

His hand glides around to cup the back of my head, pulling me down a few inches, as he deepens our kiss. His tongue finds its way farther into my mouth, the sensation both rough and soft against my own tongue, and when he licks his way out, his teeth pinch my lower lip before diving in again.

Holy fuck. He wanted to try something all right.

My hands are still hanging useless by my sides because, suddenly, I don’t know what the fuck to do with them. Where do I normally put my hands when I’m kissing someone…or being mouth-fucked, which would apparently be the case now?

Finally deciding on what to do with them, I touch his sides, sliding my fingers up his bare rib cage and around to his back, hooking them around his body to pull him in closer.

I’m hard, because of course I’m fucking hard, but I’m more than a little curious to know if he is too.

When he finally shifts a little closer, I get my answer. There’s a certified chub against my hip, and it’s growing less chubby and more hard by the second.

Is this what he wanted to know when he did this? Is he pleased with the result or mortified? Why the fuck am I so in my head right now? Maybe because this is Hunter, the one person I have trained my body to ignore. But now he’s kissing me, and all of the feelings I’ve sedated for so long are finally starting to resurrect.

The kiss only lasts less than a minute but time didn’t seem to exist in that kiss. It felt like forever and no time at all, and as he pulls away, I already know I’m royally fucked.

He releases his hold on my head and my hands fall away from his back as we’re bathed in silence again. I’m a little scared for what he’s about to say, and I honestly would be just fine if he followed this up with a simple, “Thanks. Good night.”

But he doesn’t. Instead, he stares at me. Then he licks his fucking lips. This asshole.

“So…” I say first with a crack in my voice. “Is that what you expected?”

“No,” he replies solidly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. You’re not some sexuality lab rat for me to experiment on.”

Um…yes, I am. Yes, the fuck, I am.

I don’t say that because that would be lame, but I do quickly shake my head. “Don’t apologize. It’s fine. You’re fine, Hunter. It’s…um…I—’

“Yeah,” he replies with a laugh. “That’s how I feel too.”

We both let out an awkward chuckle, but it doesn’t do much to quell the tension. So I try for something reassuring. “It’s been a crazy week. I wouldn’t blame you for being a little confused. Don’t sweat it, man. It’s me. You never have to worry with me.”

With a huff, he smiles. “Weren’t you the one who was worried?”

Oh shit, I was. “Well…I’m not anymore.”

“Good,” he replies, and those dark eyes stay focused on my face. It might sound cheesy as fuck, but his eyes feel like home to me. Those dark abyss-like irises have been the only constant in my life, so when Hunter says everything’s fine, then I know everything’s fine.

Even if it does feel as if my entire world has been tilted off its axis.

“I should get some sleep,” I say, taking a step from the kitchen. Separation feels like the only solid choice right now. Also, I’d like to do something with this brick shaft in my shorts before it goes away. And I know exactly what I’m going to think about when I do.

“Night, Drake,” he mutters, watching me walk away.

“Night, Hunter,” I reply.

Then, I carry the sound of his voice all the way to my bed, where I drift off some time later, constantly licking his taste off my lips as I do.