Remi's been lonely ever since her girlfriend walked out on her. Her upstairs roommates, James and Drew, have been there to help her laugh and rebuild her heart, but not her bed. She enlists Drew's expertise for a tattoo she's always wanted but mixture of attraction and tension gets the better of her - soon ...
Remi's been lonely ever since her girlfriend walked out on her. Her upstairs roommates, James and Drew, have been there to help her laugh and rebuild her heart, but not her bed. She enlists Drew's expertise for a tattoo she's always wanted but mixture of attraction and tension gets the better of her - soon Remi's heated, horny and insatiable, hoping for an out this world double team.
Warning: This story contains oral sex, anal sex, and a m/f/m double stuffing that gets pretty rough! Adults only.
“So can I look at my boobs now?” she asked.
“Hold up. Cleaning it up and then I’ll put some oil on it.”
Remi watched as Drew turned to the tray to grab the spray bottle again. He spritzed her skin with soap, dabbed her dry, and turned back with a spray bottle of oil. She sniffed the air as he squeezed the pump.
“It’s vegan and I like the naturalness of it,” he said. “Hey, stop laughing. You’re making it go everywhere.”
“Sorry,” Remi said. “Rub it in or something, it’s going all over!”
Drew hesitated. He placed the spray bottle down on the tray.
“My hands are pretty inky.”
“Just do it,” she said.
“This isn’t profess—”
Remi groaned as his hands touched her. She arched up into his touch, dreading his reaction. His hands sent little prickles of heat through her body, the cold, doctor-like touch of his muted heat through the latex alien to her senses. Drew rubbed her hard, pressing the heel of his thumb into her skin, attempting to massage the pain out.
Her eyes searched his face, but he didn’t look at her. He was admiring his work, looking at the curling loops and graceful cursive he had injured her with. His black Irish features were set hard, eyebrows furrowed. A hesitant hand on her left breast wandered up, cupping her flesh, daring to push up under her the curved fabric of her bra.
She watched him intently, watched the hard lines of his face tense and clench as his fingertips wandered up over her nipple. He didn’t pull on it or acknowledge it in anyway, just passed over it, lubricating her skin. She doubted that he could feel the fire burning just under her flesh, brought to life by his hands. The bra moved as his knuckles brushed up against it, granting him a view of her areola. His hands continued up, slowly, taking their time to explore.