Dirty Daddies

Page 66

Commitment scares the shit out of me.
But here, still catching my breath with my cock throbbing between Carrie’s spread thighs, there’s nothing more thrilling than watching my cum dribble out of that tight little cunt of hers.
The fact that Michael’s is in there too, and certainly smeared all over my dick, matters to me surprisingly little. I feel like I’ve conquered the fucking world.
I don’t know what the fuck is happening to me – fuck, to either of us – but I like it.
I just hope Michael does too.
“Are you okay?” I ask Carrie as her breathing calms.
She nods. Smiles. Giggles a giggle that barely sounds like her.
It’s light.
“I’m great,” she says.
She slides a hand down her belly, palming her swollen clit before dipping a finger inside herself.
“I’m full of you,” she says, piercing eyes right on mine. She looks up at Michael after me. “Both of you.”
I’d stare at that dripping pussy forever, but she lifts herself up to sit between us.
I was fucking livid when she traipsed mud all over my cushions, but cum smears I can live with all day long.
I feel surprisingly mute on the topic of contraception. The urge to dash out to the chemist for a morning after pill is non-existent.
The Carrie Wells effect. Michael wasn’t joking when he said she sucks you in deep.
I look over at him, focusing on his face and not the dick he’s holding absentmindedly. He looks as spaced out as I feel.
“You alright?” I ask, and his eyes clear.
Carrie reaches out for him, tugging on his arm until he settles at her side. She nestles into the crook of his shoulder, her cheek against his clammy skin.
“I’m fine,” he says. “As fucked up as this is, and it is fucking fucked up, I feel like a cloud’s lifted.”
I get it. I’ve been feeling it too. Days of tension as this cart veered off the rails.
Now it’s crashed and toppled, we at least know what we’re dealing with.
Carrie’s voice is timid when she speaks. “You’re not going to run off now, are you?” She snakes an arm around his waist as though she’ll fight him every step.
What she means is she doesn’t want him to leave her, and I get that, too. I don’t want him to walk off into the night with a head full of regrets, any more than I want to erase what happened here.
I have no regrets. Not a single one.
I don’t regret taking Carrie Wells and filling her full of my cum, and I don’t regret sharing her with Mike, either.
One of us was going to lose out big time, I didn’t want it to be him, and I sure as fuck didn’t want it to be me.
“I’m not going to run off,” he tells her. “I’d never run off from you. I’m the one who came running after you, remember?”
“Nobody’s running off anywhere,” I say. “Not us, and not you.”
She nods. “So, what happens now?”
I meet Michael’s eyes and his are as clueless as mine.
“We go to bed,” I improvise. “Sleep on it, see what we work out in the morning.”
“Bed?” she says. “All of us?”
I hadn’t even thought about the logistics. The prospect of me in an empty bed with Carrie in the guest room and Michael roughing it on the sofa seems less than ideal.
The prospect of Carrie choosing to share a bed with either of us individually seems a recipe for jealousy and nothing more.
“I’m happy to bunk up if you are,” I tell him.
He’s quiet for a minute.
“Three of us in one bed?”
“Unless you’ve got a better idea?”
“I like that idea,” Carrie chips in. “Please can we go with that idea?”
Michael shrugs. “I have no better option to counter.”
“Bed buddies it is,” I laugh, hoping the humour carries through to all of us.
Carrie laughs along with me, Mike manages a smile at least.
She winces as I reach out a hand and pull her to her feet. “You got me good,” she says, laughing as cum drips down her thighs.
We did that, alright.
I wrap my arms around our beautiful dirty girl and squeeze her tight. I breathe in her hair and she melts against me, her warm fingers clammy against my back.
“You’re not such a bad little bitch as you like to make out,” I whisper. “I think, in fact, you’re a good girl, you just hadn’t found the right guys to bring it out of you.”
Her eyes are mischievous as she stares up at me. “You think?”
I smirk and then I kiss her to answer her question, long past caring that she’s had another guy’s dick in her mouth.
Her kisses are sweet, genuine, without even a hint of the hissing banshee who railed on me for letting a crow fly out over my head.
“How about you grab us all a coffee while Mike and I clean up in here?”