Work Out Settle Down

"I think that's been that way for a while," she says as her hands drape over my chest, "Takes a special type of horny to go in the back of your sedan after a cold shower."

"At a public park," Troy adds, "Can't forget that part."

"You can and you should. I am exhausted and buzzed and right now all I need to do is get railed so I can fall asleep."

"Yay," Louise calls, wriggling some more, "It's about time you got here. Rachel, I had money on you dragging me to an alley on the way home."

I grip her hard somewhere soft. She yelps. And then she giggles and kicks against me and Troy needs to hurry up with the key card before I break the door down. He's fumbling. Saoirse has lost herself again and she's pawing at Troy's wonderful body. She goes back to his crotch and her eyes dart to mine and how it stretches and rubs against the threads. Louise's gaze goes to mine and to his and no one can decide where to start. My hand rips and moves and Saoirse is also begging for it and I have to come to my senses. I am holding a thing that I like and it should not be dropped. Troy makes the door open and Saoirse shoves him inside. Louise spurs me like a racehorse, laughing manically.

Saoirse shoves Troy to one of the beds. I toss Louise into the other and we all start undressing. It's a terrible game. So many pieces and they all need off first. Troy pulls his shirt over his head and that's a wonderful reveal. RTLs has been good to him. No more bruises, some deep scar on his shoulder from a childhood incident involving a swing. I see his length snake down to his thigh and there is a bit of jealousy in my core that I am not taking him first. Then Louise kicks me and I am back to her. She undoes her bra first and that's thrown away. Her blouse is still on, but a few buttons are loose. In some haphazard order of operations, she decides that her skirt should be next. The fact that her shoes are still on is somewhat of a conundrum. It doesn't seem right in my opinion. My shoes should be the first thing off. It may not be the most theatrical of items, but it does seem to be the most practical. Plus, it's a whole cultural thing over here and I want to be respectful of my host's customs. Her skirts gone and her legs glance up my sides. I have to take things off now.

I follow Troy's example and get out of my terrible shirt. I have a much nicer shirt that says 'Brittle Bullet' and I want to wear that. Then everyone turns their eyes to my stomach and my chest as I unhook my bra. The gazes say that I should never wear clothes again. I bask and stretch. The moment stretches with me as all of me is devoured. Then it's Saoirse's turn to be a tease by taking off her pants. We all want her shirt to go, but no, that's not for right now. Troy furrows his brow and he looks good slightly mad. Louise is the one who actually does something and reaches over to free Saoirse.

That breaks the barrier of bodily autonomy. We all belong to one another. Troy helps me undo my belt. I help him do the same. Louise does something I don't catch and I don't have underwear anymore. Troy still does and that's Saoirse's job now. Louise takes the dregs of cloth away and for a glorious moment we are still. Skin and body and need. Troy's poking me with his length and staring at me. Louise is groping Saoirse with utter abandon. Saoirse's tracing my thigh. I'm circling on Louise's stomach. RTLs has been good to her as well. She's been that way for a while, and we are just in ebbs and flows based on the day to day. She's a bit softer now. Work picked up and she had to prepare for this, so a session or two or more were missed. She's still incredible. All of her bounces and springs and twitches. Someone kisses my shoulder and I kiss someone else's chest. Troy, I am kissing Troy. He has muscles there and it doesn't feel quite the same as breasts. Some similarities, but not nearly what I want. Then he tenses and shows me his arms and that's wonderful. That gets kisses. I get kisses on mine, blatantly putting on a show of strength for anyone and everyone. I just have three others to take me in as I do the same. I do catch the moment when my head is buried between Saoirse's breasts, lost in weight and size and softness with piercing green eyes smiling at me.

"You really are one of us now," I murmur as I kiss her sternum. A hand, not mine, rolls and lifts and drops a breast. I think it's Louise.

"Shut up," she sighs, "Do you want me to stop being horny, cause I'm pretty sure I can do that."

A hand tweaks and pinches and grips and I don't think that's completely true. That's a glint and shine in her eyes. She chooses Troy. Shame. Louise chooses me, tracing my back and my shoulders with one hand. Then the other hand joins the first and that's wonderful.

That's the most terrible thing about all our accommodations. There simply isn't enough room for all of us to be everywhere. We have to settle for single file. At the very least, I get a full view of the other side. Troy's wonderful and toned. Saoirse's teasing and playful and soft. Louise is tensing her legs around me and refusing to let go. I got mine and that's all that matters.

Troy and I seem to have the same starting point. Both of our partners are laid out on their backs, gazing at us and pleading for the next step. Together, we lay out collective lengths across their stomach. Mine reaches farther. Granted, Louise is on the shorter side, but I think my point is made. That said, they are both looking at Troy. I lift and drop the length and that brings her back to me. I am here and she will be ruined and she will be ruined by me. Troy does not matter.

"I think you're feeling a bit competitive," Troy purrs, "Are you sure you want to do that tonight?" There's a wonderful darkness behind his eyes.

"I don't like that tone from someone I've bent over the couch," I growl. Louise giggles. Her hands start stroking me. The touch finally pulls a small pearl of preseed from my tip. Troy's doesn't do that. I win the first round.

"And I'm pretty sure we both needed to stop after that," he says, "So we'll say that's a tie."

"No. I won. You were moaning like a bitch."

"Yes, I was. And so were you. And now I think you're just stalling. I get it. Big day, lots of excitement, we're all a little tired."

"You're riling her up Troy," Louise says, "Please keep doing that."

I lift my shaft again and let it fall across her stomach. She goes back to stroking. Saoirse is gently tugging Troy to actually get on with it. The words are nice, but she needs to act now. I need to act now. Troy is smiling and daring and he needs it too. We all need it and there is a point where all the words fall away. We are nothing but action and work and now is the time for it all to come together.

The long stint of abstinence has made foreplay pointless. The excitement of the night and the presence of each other has set the cogs working. We sit at the contrived point. Louise shoves me away and I have to step back to align us. Poor Troy just has to withdraw his hips. Saoirse shimmies a bit, but that's her trying to make him feel better. My partner doesn't need to stroke my ego. She closes her legs and I glide along her thighs. Tight and smooth, I can feel the muscles move and shift with her. Not as good as her slit, but still wonderful to feel pressure on me. I move back and for again and again and I can almost, almost just do this for a while. Then Saoirse gasps as Troy gets impatient. Only the tip and she's making such sweet music. Louise is silent. When I glare at her, she just shrugs. She's not a fair judge, so naturally, I am being slighted.

I start moving back in. She blossoms for me and remains silent. There is a change in her face though. Her eyes go wide, her lips part in a small 'o,' before it all descends into a feral grin. Everything's a bit wilder now. Louise is still silent and that's terrible. I move into her and I finally get a small squeak. The sensation is too much for her. I move into her and she is tight and wet and so burning warm over me. I move into her and I try to care about Troy. He has tried to challenge me and that deserves something of my attention. Then Louise finally makes more noise and that's all I can care about.

She shines for me. The drinks before the show, the drinks at the show, the cumulative exhaustion, the giddy thrill of a new place to explore, all that that slips her thoughts more into the abstract. She smiles for me. She tenses and relaxes and gives me a soft rhythm to follow. Every time, every single time we do this, there is something that resonates between us, between all of us.

A fourth, maybe a third, definitely not half, and she finally moans high and sweet. I break for a moment and see Troy halfway. Shame. Granted, he has so much less to work with. I don't think Saoirse can actually feel it. Just putting on a show to soothe his ego. Then her legs start shaking and her release comes in small spurts as her entire body is sent into tremors. Troy, the bastard, has the audacity to not even look at me. He is having too much fun.

"Fuck you," Saoirse groans, "Just fuck you."

"I think you're doing that already," he sighs.

"You really are one of us now," Louise whimpers, "A few days without any of us and you're that sensitive? Something's broken in you now."

"I prefer it think of it as fixed, honestly," Saoirse sighs, " God, I remember when my vibe was the best thing I could get."

Troy leans down, careful to keep the distance as steady as he can and kisses her gently on the lips. She throws her hands around his head and drags him deeper. That pulls the rest of him deeper. That sends another little shake through Saoirse and I feel the floor move with her.

"Rachel, sweetie," Louise purrs, "I know they're pretty, but I'm right here. Get back to me."

A hand traces my arm and there's a Louise to deal with. She is tight and warm and growing terribly impatient with me. I am in her enough for her to feel it. There is not enough of me in her. There is not enough movement. So, I give her movement. I give her a slow push, working my body through a single point on it and Louise welcomes it with a drunken smile. Perfectly, beautifully, sublimely simple, the pleasure we give. Nothing else matters. We have done this act so many times and it's always beautiful. The novel is gone and we only have the familiar. I love the familiar.

She is warm and inviting and her body responds out of habit. No tremors or shakes, just a growing tightness in her core that I massage out. She squeaks and yelps and moans for me, each inch of movement pulling another sound. Saoirse's is long and meandering. Louise's are clipped and short. Troy's are low and slothful. Mine are panting and rough. Together, all of us together in noise and motion and heat. I push myself further and further and I watch my shape bulge against her stomach. A hand goes to it. I feel the grip through all of her. I feel the fingers. I feel her core. I push and glance past spots that tighten and make her hiss. I push and shove and work. A thin coat of sweat forms on my brow and I feel glorious. All of me is sparks and flame and heat and Louise is there in awe of my body.

I withdraw and start the pace in earnest.

Troy's making his part of the room creak and shake and I have to do the same to mine. I make it louder than he does. I make it harder. Saoirse's moaning and panting, whispering nonsense syllables to him to stroke that terribly fragile ego. Louise doesn't do that with me. She has the look and the grin and simple joy of having another body in hers. I thrust and move and feel the burn start in my muscles. Not quote the full work out, but it's something close to it. It builds that primal heat in me. I pound my hips into her and she keeps the same smile on her. It suits her.

I move and she moves and Troy moves and Saoirse moves. Endless engines running on octane and hellfire. It's all together. Saoirse s into the highest of her pitches. Louise is still stuttering and stammering. Her eyes are closed. Too much stimulation and sensation. One of her senses has to shut down. Saoirse is still fully conscious. I win on that particular engagement.

Troy's just as lost as me. And he has his eyes closes, gritted grin on his lips. Chest and stomach and arms and legs all flexing and tensing. I watch the lines shift and move. I watch his abs clench and move and shove the rest of his body. It's the same as me. It's the way I move. Not as strong, not as swift, btu the motions and the process and everything that stacks and moves together simply seems right in our bodies. I keep thrusting, the echo of our flesh meeting and colliding and slamming together shaking the room down to the basement. The neighbors have to hear. The front desk has to hear. The whole city has to hear this because this is what we should all be.

I didn't even recognize the signs of Louise's climax rolling through, I was so lost in my dream. I just catch the tail end before it starts. A final clench and thought, her legs locked around my hips, hands on my arms like they will save her instead of being attached to the demon of pleasure she's decided to be with.

Her release hits my stomach and pools on her lap. It traces down my legs and a feel a trickle dance across my sack and entrance. It sends a shiver up my spine. Troy's getting a ride after this. I need a ride after this. I need everything we can give.

I'm getting ahead of myself again. Louise is here now and I have her. She's still trembling and shaking and slowly coming down. I break again to look at Troy. He's back in Saoirse, hard and fast and deep. I'm not even a thought. Saoirse's staring him dead in the eye, locked and ferocious. An odd red joy blooms in my stomach. Mine, they are all mine and they are all like me. I go still for a moment and let Louise ride out the last of her releases. She slowly opens her eyes and finds me just inches away from her. A hand goes to the back of my head and pulls me even closer.

"I love you," she whispers, with an almost chaste kiss on my cheek.

I don't respond with words because I have none. The act says everything I can't. I give her nose a peck and pull away. I adjust my stance and grab her hips. I draw back as far as her legs will let me. My shaft shines with her essence still clinging to me. Everything smells like primal sex and it is glorious.

My core clenches. The world collapses into the single point on my body and I keep working and thrusting into her because that's all I can do. It's all the motion and it's all the urges and it's all the beauty of my body. My vision fades. Louise starts shaking again. She knows what's coming and she knows how the response comes with her. It all slots together so beautifully. My legs tremble and my grip holds strong. It all lines up and slows into a steady motion to hold against the tide.

The first shot flows through and into her in a long, long pulse lasting an eternity. Sparks in my vision, Louise back down to a strained silence. She takes it and she takes it all so serenely. Her legs do not let me budge. Her body refuses to let me go. Her core tightens and she does not allow a world where I am not in her. I thrust and move into her. I find more space to fill and more inches to move into her. Another deep pulse comes from my core and I realize I am moaning as well.

Troy joins in at the edges of the song among Saoirse's base. It rocks through him and I can feel the same release rock the world again. He's moaning for her and for me and Louise. I catch a glimpse of his stomach flex and roll with his release. His seed leaks from Saoirse and climbs back up his abs. The overflow stains Saoirse as well, down her thighs, by her belly, slowly growing in a spiderweb across her body. Thick rivers flowing down to her chest pooling in her cleavage, she rides the glow of her body in soft waves as everything she touches turns warm and embracing. I keep in Louise. She takes it well, giving me her own release in return. She's stopped making the little squeaks and chirps and has settled into a breathless panting to endure me and my climax. She tries to take in more air, to make her breath nice and even and calm, but there is just not enough room inside her anymore. I am in her and everything there is mine.

I only give her mercy when her hand starts tapping out on my forearm. And even then, my withdrawal is cruel and slow. I make sure my seed fills the gap I left behind. I would hate for her to feel empty when we all love the feeling of being full. Troy's down to simply stroking the dregs out of his length. Shame it was over so quick. I'm still going. My hand is simply helping out because it feels good. We all love touching ourselves as well. The dribbling flow covers Louise's stomach more or less the same as what Troy did.

"I think I win," Troy sighs as he wipes his forehead.

"No," I say, voice sharp and even, "I won."

"Shut the fuck up both of you," Saoirse sighs, "Louise and I won. We just had to lie there and take it and feel so goddamn amazing afterwards. Right Louise?"

It takes a moment for a response to come through. And it's a gentle snore. Louise is snoring on the bed, dead to the world and everything in it.

"That's absolutely my win," Troy says with a vicious grin, "Yours fell asleep."

"No," I growl, "No, that's not what happened. She passed out. Yours is still up. I won. I'm Rachel and I win."

"Like I said, shut up," Saoirse says. There's just enough weight to her voice that we both do. I'm still hard and that's fighting for me to do something. Troy's caught in the same trap of his urges and we all wait a moment for her to move. She wipes away some of the seed and readjusts herself on the bed. She has an afterglow to bask in and that's all that matters.

"I win," she says, "Because now I have both of you to myself. And if I can walk tomorrow that is a tragedy."

---

"Why is the best coffee I've ever had from a vending machine in the middle of nowhere, Japan?" Saoirse says from the back seat. I get the front seat on what my frame of reference is the wrong side. She takes another sip and makes that wonderful noise of satisfaction that's just close enough to what she was making last night. And a little this morning.

"I just want to know why Rachel's not throwing up all over the rental," Troy says. He has a bottle of tea, ice cold. Louise has her eyes on the road.

"I know right," she says, "Its freaking me out. Even more than the other side of the road. This feels so weird. I hate it. Why'd you make me drive?"

"Because I took the first leg and you're the one with the best night's sleep behind them," Troy sighs with another sip, "Saoirse says she can't feel her legs. Rachel has the truck license, but I have no clue what happens when she's behind the wheel of something smaller."

"I'd probably crash," I agree, "When I'm in the truck, most people just get out of my way."

"And if you don't then they're crushed. Should we get a mirror or something for back home? Make her think she's on the side that doesn't make her sick."

"It's worth a shot," Saoirse sighs. She works in another little satisfied moan at the end and lets her eyes close in bliss.

There's the ocean to our flank and it is gorgeous. The afternoon sun makes the waves sparkle and shine like scattered diamond dust. I also have to look past Louise to see it and that just makes it better. She looks so much more gorgeous with a full night's sleep behind her. Saoirse kind of looks groggy and sloppy and equally beautiful in her slothful repose. Her head's against the window, letting the shake and rattle of the road carry out the sublime tension into nothingness. Or she could be dozing. I'm not quite sure. I could be dozing as well, but then I'd be missing the view.

We fall into a comfortable silence. The road hums beneath us. That's all we need. Troy has an earbud in and he's also focused on the sea. He has a better view. He has the horizon to contemplate. Louise just has the road, rising blood pressure, white knuckles and a frantic gaze. There's no one around. There's the four of us, a rented car and the open road. There's a deep calm at our core, completely unshakeable and unflappable. We are rock steady against the world. I lean my head back against the head rest and slip back into recognizing nothing at all.