nina semen.

Weed always made Giselle…friskier than she usually was. It lowered her inhibitions, and she loved it. After she returned from the kitchen with beers for the boys and handed Charlie his, instead of returning to her place on the floor between Nic’s feet, she settled down on his lap, her breasts in his face while she opened the beer behind his head. He kissed her cleavage, lightly, and looked up at her, smiling. He glanced over at Charlie on the other end of the couch, but she pressed his face back with her shoulder. She placed his beer on the end table and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. His hands searched her body, settling on the curve of her ass and squeezing.

She felt him start to stiffen beneath her, and when their mouths finally broke apart they were both breathless, her lips burning from his stubble. Giselle turned her head to the right to give Nic better access to the spot behind her ear that he loved the kiss, and her eyes met Charlie’s before he looked away sharply, ashamed to be caught watching.

A tingle went through Giselle. Charlie was sexy; as sexy as Nic, but in a different way. Where Nic was long and lithe and graceful, Swedish to the core, with pale skin between his tattoos, silvery blonde hair and wide eyes as deep blue as the Pacific, Charlie was shorter, by at least half a foot - though he was still a bit taller than most men - and he was thickly built, with broad shoulders and forearms you couldn’t close your hands around. He tanned easily, and his hair was dark brown; his eyes, evergreen, framed by blonde lashes thick and long enough to still be evident. His lips were his most noticeable feature - bright pink and plump, like bubblegum. Giselle wondered, for the first time since she’d known him, if they tasted as sweet as they looked.

She reached over and touched Charlie’s shoulder, letting her fingers trail down a protruding vein in his arm. He looked back at her, curiously, and she brought her hand up to his face, slipping a finger between those thick lips. He opened them and sucked her fingertip, reaching up to stroke her wrist, lightly. She let out a slight little moan and bit her lip, watching him. She pulled her fingers from between his teeth and moved them down to his chest, gripping one of his pecs tightly as she began to grind on Nic, who was rock hard by then and biting and sucking on the tendon in the side of her neck as if trying to draw blood.

She looked down at Charlie’s crotch, lifting an eyebrow when she saw his member struggling to rise under the tight denim along his thigh. She leaned over more to reach it. He gasped when she began to stroke. Nic released Giselle’s skin from his teeth and looked over to see what was wrong. It was obvious to Giselle what she wanted by this point, and she tilted herself backward, so that Nic could see what she was doing. His gaze followed her arm to her where her hand was and darted back to her, confused. When he saw the question in her eyes, this new, hesitant hunger he didn’t quite recognize, his face fell blank and she worried for a moment that she’d done something terrible, but then he pulled her face back down into a kiss and lifted them both up, scooting over until Giselle’s thigh was trapped tightly between his and Charlie’s.
 
Immediately, Charlie reached over and squeezed Giselle’s leg. It sent a tremor through her. When Nic’s kisses trailed from her face back to her neck, she took the opportunity to bring Charlie’s lips to hers. They weren’t sweet; he was tart from the beer, and a bit spicy, like cinnamon. He kissed her carefully, but deep and sure. It wasn’t long before his hand was tangled in her hair and his tongue was in her mouth. Then, Nic was lifting her shirt above her head, and her breasts were bouncing free for a moment before each man had a nipple in his mouth. Nic held one between his teeth, flicking his tongue over it, while Charlie sucked and pulled so hard on the other that it hurt. Giselle caressed the backs of their heads and moaned, arching her back, pressing herself into their faces.

Then there was a hand beneath the elastic of her shorts and then inside of her underwear, searching between her thighs. She knew it was Nic’s when he gasped, his fingers disappearing into how slick and wet she was, probably more than she’d ever been. The thrill of it all heightened every bit of pleasure she felt; this fantasy come to fruition. Not that she’d ever fantasized about Charlie in particular, or a threesome with Nic. Just…two men, at once. It’d always seemed delicious.

She reached down to free Nic from his jeans, lifting herself up a little. He sprang from his open zipper, long and thick, and she wrapped her hand around him tightly, pumping just the way he enjoyed it most. With her right hand, she started to unbutton Charlie’s jeans but couldn’t; he took the hint and did it himself. She craned her neck to look down and found his cock not quite as long as Nic’s, with a bit more girth, and uncircumcised. She smiled at how their dicks paralleled their other differences in appearance. She took it in her hand and stroked them both at the same speed and rhythm. Charlie seemed to like it just the way Nic did.

After a few minutes, she pulled herself away from their groping hands and mouths, and sank down onto the floor, onto her knees. She looked from one cock to another, deciding whose to taste fist. She decided on Nic’s - because she was his, after all - never moving her hand from Charlie’s. Nic moaned gratefully when she wrapped her mouth around him and gathered all of her hair into his fist. Just when she had built up a pace and his body started to tighten beneath her, she released him with a pop and moved over to Charlie. He throbbed with anticipation on her tongue, saltier and saltier each time, and she closed her eyes. She reached over to get Nic back into her hand but he stood and she tried to lift her head, see what he was doing, but Charlie held it firmly in place, and she didn’t struggle. She heard clothes rustling and then a few moments later she felt hands on her hips, pulling her bottoms off, and then her body was being pulled down. Her pussy dropped onto Nic’s tongue and she bucked up for a moment, startled, then settled herself onto his face. He lapped at her, sucked at her clit and as he moaned into her, she moaned into Charlie, their three bodies one as the sounds reverberated through them.

She came quickly; Nic drank her and continued on, more gently. She felt Charlie grow even harder and larger in her mouth and then he pulled away and lifted her gently beneath the arms. She climbed onto his lap and he held his cock upright. She cried out as she sank down onto it, her body spreading to accommodate him.

He fucked her deeply at first, not thrusting but only gyrating, and she felt him in the very base of her. It seemed he’d push past everything. Then, he was fucking her with the entire length of him and her face was being turned to the right. She found Nic’s cock there. She took it in her mouth, struggling to keep a steady flow on both of them. It proved difficult, bouncing and bobbing all at once. In porn it looked so easy; she had a new appreciation for those women.

It wasn’t long before Charlie was coming, warm and thick, deep inside of her. He gripped her tightly, nails digging into her back, his deep groans fading into a soft whimper before just a whisper of “goddamn” in her ear. She stood to give him a moment to compose himself and he leaned forward, cupping his mouth around her clit, and his nonchalance at tasting his own come excited her so much she trembled with orgasm as easily as before, her knees giving way. She didn’t fall; Nic held her upright and then he was picking her up by her waist, wrapping her legs around him and thrusting himself deep in. He kissed her. “Good?” he asked into her mouth as he pulled away. She tucked her chin into her chest and looked up at him, nodding shyly. Her head was swirling, from disbelief, from coming, from the weed, from excitement. He smiled and carried her to their bedroom; Charlie followed them, where it all continued.

i sat of the edge on the dingy bed, wrapped in a dingy towel, and looked around the dingy hotel room. i’d stayed here once before, before Day Zero. it’d been a really nice place: swanky, five hundred bucks a night for a room the size of a tin of wet cat food and a fluffy  to wear that they charged you eighty dollars for if you tried to steal. you’d never know that now with the peeling wallpaper border, torn, stained carpet and missing electronics.

didn’t matter though, beggars can’t be choosers and it had running water and was fortified pretty well so you could get a good night’s rest without your finger on the trigger. i slept with my hand on my shotgun anyway, but it was nice knowing that the odds were a bit lower that it could slip off without me dying for it.

her skin was tight with dehydration, pulled thin and taut and shiny over her bones, which jutted out at awkward angles from everywhere, all over her body. the white gossamer gown exaggerated how much weight she had lost, settled into the gap between her narrow thighs, sank into her concave abdomen. it was hard to believe it’d only been a couple of months since i’d seen her last. she’d been healthy and round then - maybe too much so, still fighting off that baby weight.

her head rolled around listlessly. her hair was dry and thin, her exposed scalp covered in sores, some of them oozing a thick black fluid, others scabbed over. her lips were cracked and white. from deep in their heavy lidded sockets her black eyes floated over my face as if trying to place me, but unable. i reached over and took her small hand in mine. her knobby knuckles pressed painfully into the pads of my fingers.

suddenly she lunged at me, thrashing wildly, struggling against the restraints of her hospital bed. i cried out in spite of myself and jerked my arm free, as she was digging her brittle nails into my wrist. she screamed at me, or at least she let out what would have been a scream had she still been capable of it. it was more like a strangled groan, but high pitched. terrifying. she was no longer in a stupor, she was aware and intent: focused on me. her back bucked violently over the bed, the tendons in her limbs flexing. i knocked over my chair backing away, unsure what to do. i thought she’d break free, but then she stilled herself as immediately as she’d gone into her frenzy. turning her head the other way, she laid back, moaning softly.

the doctor stepped in from the shadows of the doorway, a grim look on his handsome but worn face. “i’m sorry,” he said through clenched teeth.

i wiped my tears quickly and sniffed loudly, trying to steady my voice before i opened my mouth. “what now?” i asked.

he sighed and looked up at the flickering light. reaching with the clipboard he’d been clutching to his chest he tapped the casing which only made it worse. he sucked his teeth in annoyance, then held the clipboard out to me. “now that you’ve seen her, and her condition, you just need to sign the recognition form and we’ll be able to put her down.” he pulled a pen from his coat pocket and clicked it open.

she fucks the pain away. no better way to get over a bad breakup than to experience the most intense connection two people can share with someone new, someone that makes her cum so hard her thighs tremble until they ache. to be reminded that such a thing is not exclusive to just him, the ex, the one who let her get away, makes it all okay.

at least until the sex is over.