Welcome to My Sexy Saturday. This week we're talking about Sexy has it's way so I'm going to share a snippet from Menage a Music the last in my Rock Starz series (fine as a standalone read).
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Most women would think themselves eternally lucky to have a hot, sinfully sexy rock star giving them the serious come-on—so imagine how I felt to find not one but two giving me the eye! Phew! I was turning somersaults.
But of course this led to a massive and, quite honestly, unenviable dilemma. How the heck do you choose between two rock gods who want nothing more than to give you pleasure of the extremely intense variety?
Lucky for me these global superstars were brothers who knew just how to share the same toy—sorry, I mean woman. That left me free to take a break from managing the band and let their experienced, talented hands manage me.
Tim’s hot breath caressed my scalp. “Much as I’ve been fantasizing about this obscenely tight skirt you wear, it’s time for it to go. It’s well and truly served its purpose.” He tugged the zip just below the arch of my back and I wiggled my hips to let the skirt slither down my legs.
I stood before them in just my black silk garter belt and my delicate, lace-topped stockings.
Dean ran his hand over my bare hips, the thin straps of my garters and down my thighs. When he reached the stocking tops he looked down at me, taking in my pale skin and my thin strip of light brown pubic hair. “Phew,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “Best damn Christmas stockings we’ve ever had, don’t you agree, Tim?”
“Hell, yeah.” Tim was smoothing over my butt. “This is exactly what I asked Santa for in this year’s stocking,” he murmured. “I must have been a very good boy.”
“Not everyone’s definition of good is the same as yours,” I said, watching Dean unhook the small, round clips of the garter belt. “I think you’re both being really bad, actually.”
Dean looked at me and his eyebrows twitched.
“In the best possible way,” I said with a smile and cupped his scratchy jawline in my palm.
He grinned back as my garter belt fell to the floor. Both men squatted, each rolling down a stocking into a fat ring at my ankles. I placed my hand on Dean’s shoulder, lifted my left leg while he pulled his stocking off my foot and tossed it aside. I did the same with my right leg and let Tim take off my final article of clothing.
They loomed back over my nakedness, tall and wide and oozing desire. Tim’s breath was hard and fast on my neck and Dean’s high cheekbones had flushed. I noticed beads of sweat on his upper lip, settling in his stubble. The running shower was heating up the room as much as our lust was.
“I’m way ahead of you,” I said softly, sliding out from between them. I stepped toward the shower. “Slowcoaches.”