Give Me More (Salacious Players’ Club)

Isabel

There are two thousand miles between Nashville and Briar Point. And so far, every single one is awkward and quiet. After the first day of driving, we stopped for the night in a hotel, but Drake insisted on his own room.

On the second day of our long drive, I sensed a hesitation in our traveling. We made more frequent stops. More detours, and I think Hunter drove slower than he usually does. What should have taken two twelve-hour driving days is quickly turning into three.

No one wants to return to reality. No one wants this fantasy to end, but we’re also too hesitant to talk about it or touch each other.

By the morning of the third day, my period is gone, and I’m starting to feel like a feral cat in heat, and I can’t take another second of this insufferable tension. We stop for gas in northern Arizona, and while I’m waiting by the pump and the guys are inside, I see a road sign ahead that makes me pause.

Los Angeles, 318 miles.

Las Vegas, 107 miles.

I’ve never been to Vegas. The idea plants itself in my head, and I keep brushing it away. We have to go back home at some point. We can’t keep avoiding reality. No matter how many detours we take or stops we make, the impending reality is waiting for us, no matter what we do.

“You driving?” Drake asks as he returns from the gas station and hands me my energy drink.

“Yep,” I reply, eagerly jumping into the driver’s seat. Hunter returns a moment later to find Drake and me in the front seat. With a shrug, he climbs in the back.

“Thanks, babe. We’re only about four hours away.”

“Mh-hm,” I mumble.

But that idea is still implemented in my mind, and once I get an idea, it’s impossible to get it out, until I just do it. So, as we get back on the freeway, I’m faced with that fork in the road—literally.

West…or north?

It’s the memory of the night handcuffed to the bench that turns the steering wheel on the car. It’s the feeling that we’ve only scratched the surface of something. And I’m too afraid that we won’t ever go down this road again once we get back home. So I’m putting all my chips on the table now.

“Hey, Red…where are you going?” Hunter asks from the back seat, when he notices me taking the wrong exit.

“I’m going to Vegas,” I answer with a shrug.

“But we don’t live in Vegas,” he replies.

“I know that.” I glance over at Drake, who’s staying quiet through this, chewing on his bottom lip in contemplation. “But we have everything worked out with Drake’s apartment. We don’t need to go back to work until Friday. And I’m just not ready to go home yet.”

There’s a subtle weight in the car now. Because everyone knows exactly what it is I’m not ready to go back to. After a few minutes of driving toward Sin City, Drake finally jumps in.

“I’ll look up a hotel,” he says as he pulls out his phone.

I do a silent little dance of excitement in my seat. And I hope, this time, he actually does find one room.

Drake finds us a hotel on the strip for two nights. It’s a double room with two beds, and it’s perfect. After checking in, I jump in the shower to get cleaned up and send the guys down to the bar after they get dressed. I’m a woman on a mission.

I brought a long black gown on our trip, in case we had a formal event to go to. It’s hanging safely in the garment bag in the hotel room. And after I curl my hair, apply the makeup that’s sat mostly unused all week—except for the essentials: mascara and lip gloss—I slip the sleek black fabric over my body. It hugs my chest, low cut enough to show off my barely-there cleavage.

Once I’m dolled up and ready, I head for the elevator with a subtle pulse of nerves just under my skin. I squeeze my clutch close to my body, and when the elevator pings on the casino floor, the doors open to reveal Hunter and Drake waiting in their all-black suits. My men.

They were always my men, weren’t they? I may be married to Hunter, but Drake has been more present than not, and in the past week, he and I have crossed a line we’ve both wanted to cross for a long time. It was always meant to be this way. What started as a kinky fantasy, has shown us what we really mean to each other. I love them both, and they both love me.

Now, they just need to figure out what they are to each other. And it’s up to me to help them along.

I notice Drake silently mouth the words, holy shit. Hunter is smiling at me appreciatively, and my stomach is assaulted by butterflies.

As I approach them, my husband grabs me around the waist, pulling me toward him, so he can kiss my cheek. “I’m half-tempted to take you right back up to that hotel room.”

“I’m down with that idea,” Drake replies. His eyes rove over my body then to my face hungrily.

“Boys, we’re in Sin City. Let’s go see what kind of trouble we can find first.”

“I think we found it,” Drake says to Hunter as I lead them through the casino floor.

We meander our way down the busy strip, and I have the two of them walking behind me like sentinels, scowling at anyone who dares to walk too close to me or look at me too long. It’s almost comical, but it’s also clear I need to get some alcohol in them, stat. They need to relax.

When I see a sign for a rooftop nightclub, I take both of their hands and guide them toward the signs that lead us up a special elevator. As we reach the door, one of the bouncers eyes me appreciatively as Hunter steps in front, squeezing me between him and Drake. After we enter the club, he takes us straight to the bar.

Drake is staying close behind me, and I feel his hand brush my waist, almost as if he wants to show me affection in public too. It’s funny to think just a few days ago we were nervous about even kissing, but now we can barely keep our hands off each other.

After two rounds of shots, they both seem so much more relaxed. The club isn’t too crowded, but the dance floor is a gyrating mass of bodies moving to the heavy beat of the music.

“I want to dance,” I announce, grabbing both of their hands and dragging them into the throng. I can feel their hesitation, and I didn’t exactly plan this, but I couldn’t just take one and leave the other. Either one of them would be mauled alive by these women, if I left them unattended, and tonight, I’m feeling just as territorial as they are.

I pull them deep into the crowd, the alcohol already starting to make me more fearless. As I start to dance, I loop my arms around Hunter’s neck and grind my body against his to the beat. He stares into my eyes as we dance, and I feel Drake’s body lightly touching mine. Pulling one arm away from my husband, I reach for the man behind me, tugging him closer until I’m swallowed up by their bodies.

We dance for so long, I lose track of time. I only feel their touch and the music until I’m lost in the sensation of them. Hunter pulls me in for a hot kiss, his hand around my lower back as he grinds against me. I feel how hard he is for me and I pull myself even closer. The anticipation for what’s to come is overwhelming.

When I pull away from his kiss, I feel Drake’s presence behind me. Turning my head, I find his lips next. He kisses me the same way, hot and needy, as he presses his arousal against my back.

They have me squeezed so tightly between them I can hardly breathe.

Across the dance floor, I feel more than one pair of eyes scrutinizing us. I’m sure they’re thinking some pretty deplorable things about me, but I don’t care. Maybe being around the girls at the club, like Mia and Eden, has finally gone to my head. An older version of myself might have been embarrassed by strangers labeling me a whore or a slut, but I don’t care. In fact, I like it. I like the idea of people knowing that both of these men are mine. That I didn’t have to choose—and neither do they.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Hunter growls into my ear, and then his eyes find Drake’s and they stare at each other for a long, heavy moment.

Suddenly I’m being whisked away, and I don’t even fight it. I want what they want just as badly. The walk back to our own hotel goes by in a blur until we’re in the hotel elevator headed up to our room. And I don’t want to wait anymore.

The moment the elevator door closes us in, I’m in Drake’s arms. Pulling his face down to mine, I latch onto his lips, and he growls in response, his hands going down to my ass, squeezing it hard as he drags my body roughly against his.

Hunter crowds me from behind, taking a handful of my hair and pulling me away from Drake’s kiss, stealing my mouth with his own. Pain lances through me from his grip on my scalp, but it only intensifies the pleasure. Just as the elevator comes to a stop, he mutters darkly against my lips, “Let’s get one thing clear. I’m not interested in watching tonight.”

My eyes widen as I stare at him. Does this mean…he wants me to himself? The idea fills me with dread. Not that I don’t love my husband and want to be with him, but my heart is so attached to the thought of having them both.

Then as the doors open, he stares at Drake as he says, “Let’s go.”

And I’m filled with relief as he drags me off the elevator to the front door. Hunter pulls out his key card, and Drake is behind me, kissing my neck and shoulder. We are a tangle of hands and bodies and mouths as the three of us stumble into our room.

My mouth is on Hunter’s as Drake tears off his own shirt and begins unbuckling his pants. I’m quickly undoing each of Hunter’s buttons as he starts on his own pants. As soon as they are in just their boxers, they both reach for the hem of my dress.

In all of their frenzy, I feel the pop of a stitch. “The zipper! The zipper!” I yell, pointing to the back. This might have been my fuck me dress, but I love it too much to let it be destroyed by our passion. Slowly, Drake eases down the zipper at the back, kneeling as he does, letting his lips meet every vertebra of my spine on his way down.

Then, I’m standing in only my black panties and lace bra. Drake is still peppering my lower half with delicate kisses as Hunter focuses solely on my mouth. I reach into Hunter’s boxers, desperate to have his arousal in my hands. He hums a deep and gravelly sound of approval as I stroke him. Behind me, Drake works his way up my body, and I reach for him with my other hand.

As my hand wraps around his cock, I remember just how insane this is; I keep going back and forth from this being totally natural and normal and it being wrong in every way.

Drake puts a hand on the back of my neck and steers my mouth toward his, stealing my mouth in a rough kiss. Their fingers roam my body until I don’t know whose are whose. My bra comes off while I’m back to kissing Drake, then someone pinches the tight bud of my nipple, sending a blast of arousal to my core.

I need them.

With each of their cocks still in my hands, I drop to my knees between them. One at a time, I slip their boxers all the way down and continue stroking their impressive lengths. Gazing up at their hungry expressions, I pull Hunter to my mouth first. Keeping the other hand moving on Drake, I lick a wet circle around the head of my husband’s cock before swallowing him down until he reaches the back of my throat and I start to gag. Leaving his shaft nice and wet, I jump over to Drake’s and do the same.

Their filthy groans fill the hotel room as I go back and forth between them, teasing them and keeping them wanting more. Then, looking back up again, I pull their cocks toward each other’s, and I hear one of them gasp as they slide together, slick with my saliva.

I know Drake is still mad at Hunter, and I don’t want to force him into anything he doesn’t want to do, but I also know it’s a delicate balance right now, and one little move might be enough to push these two over the edge and past their respective hang-ups.

Apparently, that one little touch of their cocks was enough because when I look back up, Drake’s hand is on Hunter’s hip. It’s enough to have those butterflies in my belly going wild.

I pull them both toward my mouth again, fitting the heads of their cocks against my tongue and trying to fit them both in as much as I can. Their groans get louder, and I feel someone’s hands in my hair.

“Goddamn, Red. You look so fucking good taking our cocks like that,” Hunter says in a low, raspy growl.

“She likes two cocks. Don’t you, baby?” Drake asks.

“She needs two cocks,” my husband replies.

I nod as I suck them each down again. I can’t get enough of their pleasure. But when I notice Drake’s hand pull away from Hunter, I do what I can to bring them back together. Releasing my lips from their cocks, I coat them each again, so they’re perfectly slick, and I point their cocks upward as I slide them together again. I wrap my hands around them both, so they’re so close, they’re practically chest to chest, leaving almost no room for me.

Slowly their gazes travel from me to each other, and I hold my breath in anticipation. I keep up my stroking as I notice the erratic movement of their chests. As the moments stretch, I wait.

Finally, it’s Hunter who makes the first move. Maybe it’s his way of showing that he’s sorry, but I knew it would never be Drake to make it. He needed Hunter to do it for him.

Hunter grabs him by the back of the neck and crashes their mouths together. Drake’s eyes squeeze closed as he holds the back of Hunter’s head. I let out an uncontrollable whimper as I watch them kiss. It’s so hot and carnal, like they can’t get enough of each other. My body is on fire with desire, just from watching this one kiss.

When they finally break apart, their chests are now heaving, and I rise to my feet, eager to kiss the lips that were just fused together. I reach for Hunter’s first, sliding my tongue against his, wanting to tell him just how much I love him and how incredibly hot that was. My husband just kissed someone else while I watched…and it was amazing. This all feels like a dream.

Moving from Hunter’s mouth, I go to Drake’s, tugging his bottom lip between my teeth. Hooking his hands around my thighs, he pulls me easily into his arms, and I wrap my legs around him.

“I think she’s ready for us,” Hunter says as Drake carries me to the bed.

“I’m ready,” I cry out in a needy whine. Drake drops me onto the mattress and runs his hands down my body, tugging my underwear off in a quick swipe. Then he places his hands on my thighs, parting them wide as he leans down and places a warm kiss against my clit, first with just his lips and then with his tongue.

I cry out, digging my fingers in his long hair and grinding him against me. He kisses me three more times before rising up and leaving me writhing alone on the bed. When I glance up, I notice him rifling through his bag, and I assume he’s coming back with a condom, which he does. But he has something else too.

As he returns, he has a devious expression on his beautiful face. “Want to know the best part of being your husband’s best friend? I know everything he’s ever done to you. Everything.” Drake crawls back over my body, hooking an arm under my knee and pulling it up to expose every part of me. Then he draws a line with his finger down the back of my thigh, straight to my ass. I tense as he starts rubbing circles over the tight hole. He leans his face in close, pressing his lips to my ear. “I know he’s fucked you here. I know all about how you begged for it, how you soaked your bed because you came so hard, how you used a toy on yourself while he fucked your ass.”

I gasp, turning toward Hunter, who is watching us lazily while he strokes himself and waits. I’m not really surprised he told Drake about all of the sex we’ve had. I’m just a little surprised by the amount of detail he went into. I’m almost flattered to know they talk about it so much.

“And that’s why I’ll be the one fucking you here tonight.”

Suddenly, Drake’s finger breaches my tight hole and I gasp even louder, tilting my hips for him, giving him even more access to this dirty, forbidden part of me. He lifts up, uncapping a bottle of lube in his other hand and dripping it on the finger pressed inside me. Then he begins to prep me, easily sliding in and out, and I can barely take it. It’s exquisite torture.

Gripping the sheets on the bed, I squeeze them tight in my fists as he reaches deeper and deeper, teasing me to the point of agony. He adds another finger, and I moan and writhe like a cat in heat.

“Oh my God, Drake, please. Fuck me.”

“What do you think, Hunt?” he asks, staring down at me like a predator ready to devour its prey. “Do you think she’s ready for me?”

“I already told you she likes it rough. She’s always ready,” he replies in a husky tone. He’s leaning against the dresser, watching us with languid strokes of his cock.

I whimper when Drake pulls his fingers out of me. While he fixes himself with a condom, Hunter stalks closer, climbing onto the bed next to me. In a quick motion, he flips me on top of him and then kisses the air out of my lungs. His tongue tangles with mine as I feel Drake settle his weight behind me.

“I want to hold you while he fucks you again,” Hunter mumbles into my mouth. A moment later, I feel the head of Drake’s cock against my back entrance. He’s slick—he must have lubed up while Hunter was kissing me into a stupor.

I rest my forehead against my husband’s shoulder as Drake slips his cock past the tight ring of muscle. It’s such a foreign feeling; nothing compares to it. I love how different it feels, how wrong and taboo. It makes this usually demure and polite girl feel like a sensual, sexy vixen, and I love it.

“More,” I call with a guttural hum as I try to catch my breath.

Drake growls in response. “Baby, I’m all the way in.” He slides out then back in again, filling me so much, it makes the walls of my pussy throb.

“God damn,” Drake says with a grunt. “Hunter, you were right. Her ass takes a cock so well.”

“That’s my girl,” Hunter whispers against my ear.

His hands are all over my body, on my back, my breasts, my hips, and then finally on my clit, rubbing fierce circles and driving me crazy. My legs begin to shake as Drake picks up speed, and I feel so overwhelmed with sensation I’m about to explode.

And I do. My climax rolls over me like a truck. I let out a scream into Hunter’s neck as I’m blinded by the sensations.

“You’re so wet for me, Red. I need to be inside you so bad. Are you ready?”

I’m still catching my breath, a sheen of sweat covering my body and making my hair stick to my face as I lift up and kiss Hunter, needing the familiar taste of him, the feel of his mouth against mine.

“Yes,” I whisper, and Drake stops his thrusting for a moment.

With a little shifting, I feel Hunter there, and he was right. I am slick because he slides in easily. With both of them buried to the hilt, no one moves as I adjust and savor this feeling of overwhelming fullness. It’s intense and unbelievable, not just sexually but emotionally too. They’re both claiming me, using me, loving me, and tears spring to my eyes as Drake folds himself over me, kissing my back and affectionately wiping my hair from my face.

“I can feel him inside you,” Hunter whispers as I look into his eyes. He grips my hand in his, intertwining our fingers. The other hand goes to my back and I feel his fingers graze Drake’s.

And we stay like that for a moment, the three of us as one.

“Rock your hips, Red.”

I look down into my husband’s eyes as I begin to rock, slowly at first, and then faster, and the sensation is incredible.

“Oh fuck,” Drake says with a moan.

“God, you feel so good,” Hunter replies, and I don’t know if he’s talking to me or his friend because, at the moment, I’m not sure where one of us ends and the others begin. We are melted together into a pile of heat and pleasure and carnal cries of lust.

I’m pistoning my hips now, throwing myself back, impaling myself on their cocks. This time, my orgasm comes on slowly, like an approaching storm, and it lasts longer than ever, until it becomes a part of me. I’m no longer fucking them but dancing with this orgasm, my body riding out the climax.

“Yes, yes, yes,” one of them howls, and I recognize the sensation of one cock throbbing and shuddering inside me. Or maybe it’s both.

I collapse onto Hunter’s chest, waiting for the tingling in my body to stop. Someone brushes my hair away again, and by the time he’s kissing my cheek, I realize Drake must have pulled out of me.

Sitting up, I stare down at Hunter, who gently strokes my cheek with a smile. Then I turn to see Drake lying next to him. “You are so fucking amazing, Isabel.”

I smile in return before falling into the narrow space between their bodies. I cuddle into this familiar position as Drake curls up to spoon me. With an exhausted and satisfied grin, I reply, “No. We’re fucking amazing.”