Oh la la, it's another Masturbation Monday, the perfect way to start the week.
This week's sultry image has inspired me to share a little snippet from Menage a Music, which is the 3rd book in my Rock Starz short story series (fine as a standalone read).
I stuck a hand into the blasting water, checked the temperature, then shimmied through the glass partition. I gasped. The water was hot and fierce, peppering hard bullets onto my sensitive breasts. I pushed my fingers through my hair, scraping it back over my forehead as water soaked through it. A bottle of jasmine shower gel caught my eye and I reached for it, flooded my palm and set about soaping my breasts, my stomach and my hips. I held my face to the streaming water and breathed in the summer sweetness that laced my tongue like sherbet. The hot pounding and the slippery gel washed away the busy day and I let go of every thought except here and now.
And what a here and now!
I opened my eyes and came face-to-face with two big, naked rock stars looking decidedly single-minded about what they wanted from me. I fought a tremor of nerves. Could I do this?
Of course I could.
I placed my sudsy hands in the center of their sternums. Each had a sprinkle of darkly coiled chest hair, though Tim’s was thicker and spread out to his nipples and swirled around his piercing. Dean was a fraction taller than his brother, his chest not as broad but every taut muscle was defined, his pecs square and his small, chocolate- brown nipples erect.
“Glad you could join me,” I quipped as the water streamed down, flattening their hair and beading their skin with crystal droplets.
Neither of them spoke. They just looked at me hungrily. Tim tugged his bottom lip with his teeth as Dean pulled at the inside of his cheek.
Swallowing, I slid my hands lower, spreading slippery shower gel over hard, wet flesh and bricked abs.
Dean let out a low growl and stepped toward me. I backed up. The cool wall of the shower pressed against my shoulders. “Wait,” I said, pressing his chest, and blinking water from my eyes. “My turn to touch.”
A muscle flexed in his wet cheek.
I continued my downward slide until I reached two tangles of coarse pubic hair. My gaze followed my hands to their cocks. Hugely erect, they jutted toward me through the swirling steam and cascading water. I practically salivated. They looked delicious. Long and fat, Dean’s slightly longer, Tim’s slightly thicker, both a rich burgundy color on the heads and both shafts lined with twisting purple veins.
I grasped each one. Wrapped my fingers around the thick stalks and gave a firm squeeze. My palms absorbed identical fast pulses, racing at the same pace as the song still thumping out.
Tim shot out his hand and pressed against the tiles behind my head. He locked his elbow and leaned toward me. “Ah, fuck, your little hand is so bloody sweet on my dick.” He pressed his lips to my cheek and the jagged sounds of his breaths traveled into my ear.
I treated him to a series of slippery push-pulls up and down his shaft. He uttered a deep, guttural groan that rumbled up from his chest. The noise vibrated around the cubicle like an underground echo and mixed with a bass guitar solo. I repeated the action on Dean and was rewarded with the same rumbling groan his brother had produced.
“Ah, yes,” Dean murmured, spreading kisses over my other cheek. “So sweet, so good.”
Reaching for the shower gel once more, I re-filled my palms. My lubed hands grasped their cocks firmer and tighter. I set up equal rhythms, my thumbs sliding over their slits and around the ridges of their glans.
“Mmm, that’s nice, Sylvia, really nice,” Tim said in a tight voice, reaching out to cup my breasts.
I looked down through the shower of water at my small hands full of thick cock. My fingers were creamy pale compared to their deeply colored shafts and jet-black pubic hair.
“You like that?” Dean asked in a strained voice. “You like seeing us both at your mercy?”
“Yes,” I said, upping the pace and using the tips of my fingers to apply pressure to their balls. “I like seeing how much you want me.”
They each let out a moan and I sensed their muscles tensing.
“Oh, honey, we want you all right.” Tim switched his attentions to my other breast, twisting and tweaking my hard nipple. “But not in here, not like this.” He glanced at his brother. “Come on, let’s get to the main event.”
He stepped away, forcing me to release his cock. I went to grasp both hands on Dean’s but he, too stepped out of the shower. I had no choice but to follow if I wanted my men. And I did. I really wanted my men.
“Here,” Dean said, throwing a huge fluffy towel around my shoulders. “Let me dry every inch of your delectable little body.” He began to rub and wipe my shoulders and breasts. Scooped the towel into the small of my back then down my legs.
Tim gave my dripping hair a brief rub with a smaller towel before vigorously dragging it over his bulging biceps and wide quads. “Let’s get comfy,” he said, giving his hair a brief one-handed scrape with the towel before tossing it to the floor.
“This way,” Dean said, urging me to the chaise.
I stepped over, glancing up at Venus as I went. Her long, elegant naked body was beautiful, softly rounded and pale, the expression on her face serene and content as she languished above the ocean surrounded by adoring cherubs.
“Sit,” Dean ordered, pressing me down at the backrest end of the chaise. Soft cushioned material met my butt as he bent to dry my feet.
Tim stood to my right, just behind the backrest, which was chin level for me now. I looked up at him—his eyes were glazed with desire, his chest rising and falling fast. He reached over the backrest and cupped my cheek. “You wanna return the favor?” he asked, stepping close, so close his erect cock jutted just inches from my mouth.
I licked my lips, wanting to sample his taste and feel his wide shaft slide over my palate more than anything. “Yes,” I said, twisting my body and gripping the backrest with both hands. I pulled forward as he tangled his hands in my hair, held my head firm and pressed the end of his cock to my lips.
Swiping my tongue over the heated flesh, I drew in a tiny drip of pre-cum from the slit. I repeated the action, my tongue probing deeper and my lips pressing a hot, wet kiss to the voluptuous head.
He moaned as his fingers pressed into my scalp, just behind my ears. “Sylvia, ah, yes, just perfect,” he muttered. “Your pretty mouth is so sweet and seeing it act so damn dirty is beautiful.”
To keep reading, check out Rock Starz