Texas Trio Pt. 02 - Becky's Debt Ch. 25-26

A choking sound rose from her chest.

"Shhh." His breath was hot against her cheek.

She couldn't move, couldn't free herself, but Becky squirmed until she felt a hot palm settle over her mound as one thick finger slid between the lips of her pussy.

When he felt her wetness, Brody exhaled, a sharp hiss of air escaping between his teeth. Pinning the back of her skirt between their bodies and pulling one leg of Becky's petticoat aside, he bared as much of her bottom as possible. Gently, his finger delved into the warmth of her body

"I bet this wasn't the first time you've heard your sister and her husband, was it?" he whispered against her ear. "I bet you get an earful living here."

Becky colored, and Brody laughed softly. She'd stopped struggling now, helpless to resist his greater size and strength, but more helpless to withstand the siren's song of his sensual explorations, the rough caress of a finger on her clit, and the penetration of another.

"When you're in bed at night, do you hear them fucking?"

Hesitantly, she nodded.

Drawing moisture out with the long, thick finger, he retreated and thrust, slowly, and again.

"Do you know what they do in the bedroom, Becky?"

Her eyes flew open.

"Two husbands, one wife?"

She shouldn't want to know, Becky thought. She shook her head decisively. "No."

"Two men, one woman," he went on, "one of them fucks her here."

A second finger joined the first inside her pussy.

Becky gasped, and Brody went back to the excruciatingly slow stretching of her delicate channel.

"And one of them fucks her mouth."

Becky shuddered, her inner muscles trying to still the probing fingers. While Catherine had implied the same act, hearing Brody say it so boldly while he . . . well, those were two entirely different things.

"Sometimes they do that—"

Brody shifted to one side, still supporting her thigh but allowing himself better access to the portion of her bottom he'd bared.

She shivered as he stroked the sweet curves of her ass with his free hand, dipping again and again into the well of liquid fire.

Four or five fingers were now playing in the juicy flesh between her thighs, but Becky's rioting nerves said it might be twenty, flicking and petting, bringing her fever to new heights. She'd never been this wet.

"Sometimes—"

The moisture coated his fingers as they curved inward.

"—one of them fucks her pussy—"

Becky's eyes flew open as his hand moved slowly upward, drawing moisture over the tender opening between her cheeks.

"—and one of them—"

The hand in front slid down, its fingers delving deeply into her pussy as his thumb pressed firmly against her clit, and Brody made small circles on the tiny puckered opening no one had ever touched.

Becky's shoulders heaved as she sucked in great gulps of air.

Brody pressed lightly on her bottom, the tip of his finger barely opening the tender bud.

"—and one of them—" he repeated, pushing his hips forward to pin his hand between them, creating hot, unbearable pressure.

"—fucks her ass."

Becky exploded, her body spasming around the thick finger in her pussy, tiny flutters of lightning shooting from her sensitive rear entrance to her throbbing clit, pinned beneath his thumb, still in motion and drawing her orgasm into a shattering series of waves. She was so close to screaming that she bit her arm preventing it.

When she'd calmed, sagging limply against the door, he turned her in his embrace, letting the back of her skirts fall but taking care to keep the front aloft.

Becky was still shaking when he claimed her lips, her ribcage heaving with effort. Brody felt her struggle and limited himself to soft, comforting kisses while she caught her breath, but he wasn't done with her yet.

Practically begging to be discovered—and subsequently dismembered, Brody imagined—he held her in place with her back to the door, as his fingers slid surely back between her legs.

Becky shivered, one long convulsive movement which claimed her entire body. As the spasm passed, she opened her eyes, whispering a desperate plea. "No . . . no, Brody . . . I can't."

Everything in Brody wanted to force Becky to submit without protest or hesitation, allowing him unlimited freedom to pleasure them both, but her innocence restrained him.

Soon, he thought, soon she would give in to him and stop fighting what he knew was meant to be. For now, he soothed her into submission instead of issuing another order. A kiss on the beating pulse where it slipped beneath her collar, a flick of his tongue into the hollow of her throat, a line of slow, gentle kisses leading his mouth higher as they drew Becky forward. She turned into his kiss, clinging to his shoulders as his tongue dipped between her lips, drawing her into a gentle duel.

She whimpered another plea when his fingers resumed their erotic explorations, but this one was weaker, and the negative shakes of her head were soon defeated by the lift of her chin as Becky returned Brody's kiss.

Running one hand upward from her waist, Brody stroked the soft underside of her arm, and finished by entwining his fingers with hers. Slowly, he moved his hand until hers was above her head, her elbow bent and her palm facing outward.

When Becky hummed into their kiss, Brody released her lips and repeated the sound.

His cock was so hard he thought it might kill him not to slake his thirst for her, but Brody's smile was soft when Becky opened her eyes. She smiled too, as he kissed the tip of her nose, the point of her chin, and lowered his face to draw a breath near her ear.

"Give me your other hand," he said softly.

Becky gritted her teeth, her nostrils flaring, but she didn't hesitate this time, and Brody had to bite back a groan as the blood-swollen tissues of his penis thundered painfully in response.

With one hand, he could almost enclose both of her fine-boned wrists, but he placed her hands side-by-side above her head and released them. "Don't move."

He'd taken care to keep his voice gentle, but it was clearly an order.

Breathing quickly, her eyes widened, but she obeyed, obeying, too, when he told her to keep her eyes on him.

She arched helplessly when one big finger slid inexorably into her body, but she didn't look away.

Her inner muscles fluttered around the invasion, and Brody swallowed as he imagined filling her and feeling that intimate caress around his cock. With his thumb, he swept upward, parting the folds hidden between her thighs.

She gasped loudly as his touch skimmed across the pearl-like peak, not lingering.

Holding her in place with the weight of his gaze, Brody rumbled, "You're so soft."

She was breathing more quickly now as the rough pad of his thumb swirled around her clit.

He went on. "Your pussy feels so good."

His second finger slipped in to join the first, the movements of his hand coating her inner thighs with the nectar of her body.

Her upper body shifted restlessly, reflecting the tension Brody felt in her thighs, but her hands stayed on the door where he'd placed them.

"So hot. So wet." Brody's soft murmur was strained.

She was panting now.

"Have you felt it like this, Becky?"

Her flush deepened, her eyes flaring in shock.

"Have you touched yourself like this?" Burying his fingers as deeply as he could, Brody swiped his thumb back and forth, the folds of wet flesh clinging to his skin.

Becky's hips rocked in the rhythm he'd set for them as she reached for the peak she'd sworn she couldn't attain again.

Brody lifted his thumb and let his fingers slide from her body, leaving the tip of one, barely penetrating her pussy.

Her hips pushed forward, straining for his hand, but with only one set of toes on the floor, she had no purchase. Her lips closed around a pitiful whimper.

"Have you, Becky?" Brody murmured. "Have you touched yourself like this?"

He let his thumb brush lightly across her clit, and Becky's whole body trembled, her eyes panicky.

"Becky." It wasn't a question this time.

Her fingers clenching in the air above her head, Becky nodded, ever-so-slightly.

Brody slid his finger slowly in and withdrew. "Say it."

She shuddered, pressing her lips together as though trying to stop the words from leaving her mouth, but she couldn't; she needed him too badly to stop now. "I—I've touched myself."

Brody's nostrils flared as he exhaled forcefully. "You've made yourself come."

Another tiny nod, another shy pause. "I've . . . made myself come."

He added another finger as he thrust inward, his thumb returning to its torturous, sweeping strokes. "Good girl."

Becky moaned and bit her lower lip to stifle the cries trembling on her tongue.

As his fingers drove her higher and higher, Brody dragged reluctant answers from Becky, things she could never have imagined telling another human being. To Brody, her experiences were a mere taste of what they'd do together, but to Becky, the admissions were shocking and shameful. Still, the words fell from her lips as he softly tweaked her nipples, his other hand bringing her closer and closer to ecstasy. Yes, she'd touched herself. Yes, she'd come that way, many times. Yes, she touched her breasts. She'd pinched her nipples.

"Like this?" he asked, his fingers demonstrating. "Harder?"

She arced, the small pain prodding her ascent.

Did she fantasize? Yes, she fantasized about fucking. She stumbled over the word again, and Brody slowed his hand, lessened the pressure of his thumb, sensing she was close.

Becky grimaced, pushing her breast into his palm, which cupped and circled the small, sweet mound. God, he wished he dared unbutton her blouse. He wanted to see her, taste her, suck her nipples into his mouth and lave them while she crumbled.

When she touched herself, did she pretend it was the touch of another?

Becky rolled her hips, struggling for completion.

"Yesss," she hissed between her teeth.

"Do you fantasize about me, Becky?"

Her eyes flew open and her cheeks paled, but Becky couldn't stop the yearning movements of her body.

For a moment, Brody thought she wouldn't answer and he'd have to start again, prying the information from her.

How long could he keep her here before someone came looking?

But on a huge sigh, she surrendered. "Yes, I think about you when I touch myself at night."

Brody's heart nearly stopped. "Do you say my name?"

A quick shake of her head.

"I want you to say my name, Becky," Brody growled under his breath, giving in to the temptation to kiss the pale skin hidden beneath the angle of her jaw, as two fingers slid into her pussy and he began fucking her in earnest. Each thrust of his hand brought the wide, hard base of his thumb bumping up against her mons, a fast, fierce contact that would have scared her only a few days ago.

"Say my name when you come," he growled again.

"Yes," she breathed, turning her face to feel his hair brush against her cheek. "Yes."

"Now, Becky. I want you to say it now." Withdrawing, Brody added a third finger and pushed them inside, the ball of his thumb stroking the tender groove above, pushing her over the peak.

Becky stopped breathing for an interminable moment. Then she contracted, her entire body clenching down on the hot, slick invaders stretching her pussy to the limit.

Her orgasm was so violent, Brody thought she'd scream, but Becky didn't have the breath for it.

"Brody."

She whispered his name, and it was the worst torture yet.

Brody closed his eyes and bit back his own heartfelt groan, cursing himself. He never wanted to hear her say his name like that again unless his cock was buried to the hilt in the sweet pussy now hugging his fingers so tightly.

—:—:—:—:—:—:—

Later, neither of them remembered exactly how they got out of the library without being discovered: Brody because he had a hard-on a ten-gallon hat couldn't cover, and Becky because she'd burst into tears before Brody's fingers left her body.

That should've cured his erection, he thought, but her scent was in his nose and his pores, and the memory of how eagerly she'd responded to his touch was enough to keep him hard for days. Besides, as bad as it sounded, Brody had seen other women cry after sex. Sometimes the physical release tapped into stifled emotions. He'd never personally wanted to cry after coming, but he'd felt the swell of tenderness when he'd held Amy and felt the baby rolling beneath the taut skin of her belly.

And God knew, he'd be lucky if Becky didn't have him sobbing any day now.

Brody shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. Walking would've been better, but this way the pommel and his artfully bunched trouser legs did a decent job disguising his dilemma. He'd have to stop at the swimming hole before he went back to the bunkhouse to either cool off or jerk off, because this thing wasn't going away on its own.

He closed his eyes. It was a miracle he hadn't stripped her and fucked her right there against the library door. At one point he'd even checked to see if the door had a lock. It did, and it was a good solid door, but the windows were bigger than average. Kendall wouldn't fit, but he could toss Clancy right through.

Right then, with Becky pressing her ass against his cock, dying afterward hadn't seemed as important as whether or not he'd be able to finish fucking her before they killed him. All of that had run through his mind while Becky was creaming all over his fingers.

Brody groaned into the soft summer air, hoping no one would ask Becky why the library window had been left open. Her blushes were enough to get him killed.

He laughed aloud, turning Bear toward the creek.

—:—:—:—:—:—:—

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As usual, thank you for taking the time to read, write, and vote. I smile every time I check in and find a new comment, and smile even harder, itching to respond whenever one of you hints at something that will be a major factor in upcoming chapters! — Stefanie