Chapter 5

Not for the first time, I woke up with two boners. No, not my own. My husband, Mark, lay behind me, his body close to mine, his chest hot against my back, his cock nestled unintentionally between the cheeks of my ass. I could hear his steady breathing, smell his familiar body and feel his skin on mine. The other boner couldn't be felt from where I was, but I knew it was there, just the same. By lifting my head slightly, I could see it. Mark's twin brother Matt lay in front of me, in the same position. His broad back was, as you might expect, just like Mark's, and was snuggled close in front of me, my breasts pressed against it, my groin comfortable behind his ass. His breathing was different though. He wasn't asleep, and he was well aware of the state of his erection. His hand had just started to idly slide up and down it.

He'd noticed me as soon as I lifted my head to peek, and he turned his eyes to me as best he could, a smile inherent in the look. Without breaking our eye contact, I reached over his hip, pushing his strong arm aside, removed his hand, and took hold of his cock. Watching his expression intently, I started to stroke him slowly, feeling the hot, rigid body of it respond to my touch, wondering yet again how the skin was able to slide up and down over something so solid, how his foreskin was able to completely cover the tip one moment, and almost disappear down the shaft the next.

Eventually Matt's neck got sore looking back at me, and I soundlessly encouraged him to lay it back down on the pillow, as I attacked his uppermost shoulder with my teeth, gently compressing his skin, repairing my damage with quick, damp kisses.

Matt must have shown up late in the night, after Mark and I were asleep, but he always knew he was welcome, and he'd become a regular visitor as Erin's stomach had grown, and her demands for space more desperate. Not that she didn't want him there, but neither of them slept too well that way. I had to admit that this was a wonderful way to wake up, sandwiched between my favourite guys.

I was really surprised that this casual partnership arrangement had continued after Erin had become pregnant. After all, Matt's inability to father a child had been the only excuse in the first place. I hadn't said anything though. I was enjoying this far more than I had ever thought I would.

As my thoughts had drifted off, I'd continued stroking Matt, and I could tell now that he was almost there. I really got a buzz from watching my boys come, and focused my attention to the dripping tip of his cock, and the distracted tone of his breathing. I stepped up the pace, loving the power that was in my hands, and as my teeth closed more tightly on his shoulder, and my free hand scraped across the skin of his buttocks, he came, ropes of liquid arching across the bed away from me, accompanied by groans of pleasure from his lips.

As my strokes slowed on his now sensitive organ, his body calmed down, and I whispered to him to go back to sleep, knowing exactly how orgasm affected both of the guys. He resisted for a moment, complaining that it wouldn't be fair on me, but I convinced him, and watched his eyes droop and close, my hand still on his soft cock, my eyes locked on his tanned face.

He had a point though, and as I lay there thinking about it, I regretted not taking him up on whatever the offer was. I was almost as horny as the two of them were in the mornings, and after masturbating Matt, I was ready for something else. My mind wandered over some of the adventures of the last few months, and I just became more and more aroused. My nipples crinkled out and became sensitive to every movement in front of me, and I wished the penis between my butt cheeks was just a little longer, a little lower, a little more able to take care of my problem. Unable to ignore the feelings any longer, my fingers found their way between my legs, unsurprised at the quantity of moisture they found.

I couldn't spread my legs much without moving around, so I stuck to fingering myself externally, damp fingertips running up and down my slippery labia, flicking against my swollen clitoris, the heat of the bodies either side of me both wonderful and awful. The constricted movement accelerated another process in my mind. I always feel just a little guilty masturbating, and the proximity of the bodies and the inability to move much pushed that up a notch or two, somehow. I didn't mind, really, it just distracted me for a minute, but it made me realise I really wanted to do it loudly, openly, and not like this.

I thought through the options while continuing the exploration with my fingers, and decided the shower was the best alternative. Removing my fingers from their favourite place with some reluctance, I took a little risk, and shuffled down to the foot of the bed, trying not to create too much movement on the bed. I sat up when I got there, and almost changed my mind, as I looked back at the two specimens on the bed, but I didn't want to wake them, and I stood, and made for the door.

I love the feel of the varnish in the hallway on my bare feet, but I hurried along to the bathroom, desperate to finish what I'd started, wanting to come, screaming, hard and fast.

I burst through the bathroom door, and started the shower, then leaned back on the bench to wait for the hot water to run through. I wanted to touch myself, to stroke myself some more, to plunge my fingers deep between my aching thighs, but I resisted, permitting myself only to flex the muscles down there, sending shivers through my body, but not touching.

As soon as the water was hot enough, I stepped into the shower cubicle. Determined to make the most of this feeling, and knowing that I could end it any time I wanted to, I left myself alone still, and lowered my head under the steady stream of hot water instead. Once my hair was wet, I reached for the shampoo, squirted some in my none-too-steady hands, and started to massage my hair. The feeling was incredible. I had no idea that shampooing could feel so wonderful. Every caress of my fingertips on my scalp sent pulses up and down my body, threatening an orgasm without touching anything. I pushed it as close as I dared, suddenly desperate to not come just yet.

Somehow I finished washing my hair, and then stood still under the water, facing away from the shower head, and let the water run down over my face, and flow over the rest of my body. The hot water stung delightfully as it hit me, and then caressed me as it fell, making my whole body tingle with pleasure. Eventually I couldn't stand the wonder of it any more, and my hands crept to my tender breasts, squeezing and tweaking, kneading hard and then tickling tenderly.

My breasts, as wonderful as they felt, weren't sufficient for long, and my hands found their own way down my body, over my ribs, and south across my stomach, pausing to tickle at my navel before finding themselves faced with a thatch of small wiry hairs. My fingernails scraped down my skin there, pulling the hairs a little as they went, stimulating my nerves even more as they passed lower, and I bent down a little, to gain better access, before sliding two fingers on one hand deep inside myself, while my other hand attacked my clitoris directly.

I was standing there, caressing myself, and groaning, when the shower door opened. My husband stood there, the same hardness in front of him that had been prodding my buttocks in the bed. His eyes locked with mine, and he said nothing. His hands moved behind my legs, and he lifted me up just below my butt, pushing me back against the wall under the shower head, bending my legs so they wrapped behind his hips. As my hands fell away from where I'd had them, and grabbed his hips to steady myself, he pressed me firmly against the cubicle wall, his hard cock pressing up against my pubic hair. He lifted me a little, allowing his erection to spring between my labia, before lowering me again, and impaling me, delightfully, upon himself.

As I felt myself sink down upon him, his cock stretching my insides, the heat of him inside my hot tunnel, I couldn't stand it any longer, and I came. A loud, screaming, desperately wonderful orgasm, just as I'd planned, but so much better with Mark. And then, after giving me a short moment to calm down, he started to move, his strong hands lifting me against the wall. My back could feel intimately the outline of the tiles behind me, my breasts were drowning in torrents of hot water, and my tender vagina was being assaulted by an invader, pumping forcefully in and out of me, hot, tight, hard and wet.

Mark must have been watching for a while, or had been unusually aroused when he left the bed, because I could tell he wasn't going to last very long. I wasn't too far away myself, and just let my body be seduced by the steady pulse of his thrusts, massaged by the delightful friction at just the right angle, held in the strong arms of my husband, shoved wonderfully against the wall, but hardly against my wishes.

He managed to tip his face downward enough to watch me, though I couldn't kiss him, and I kept my eyes on his, our movements relative to each other mesmerising. I saw his eyes glaze over just before I felt the change in rhythm, and as he passed the point of no return, so did I. His cock exploded inside me, spraying deep and hard, as I exploded around it, clamping tightly on him, pulling his body toward me, and deeper inside me, and we both shuddered gradually to a stop, any movement suddenly sensitive, somewhere near the border with pain. After a few deep breaths, he gently lifted me from his slowly dwindling staff, and I was gently lowered to my feet.

After all of this I couldn't stand properly, and immediately fell to the floor, dragging him with me. We were both sitting there, tangled in a heap, laughing loudly, when the bathroom door flew open, and Erin rushed in, scared that someone was hurt. She was followed by Matt, who nearly clipped her with the door as he hurried in. They both started to laugh as they saw us, collapsed, in the bottom of the shower, being rained on from above.

"Listen little brother," Matt started. "You're not in high school now. You can't do those gymnastics any more."

"It wasn't me," Mark told him. "It was Holly's fault."

"Hey!" I swatted at him, but only succeeded in moving sufficiently to have more water thunder down on my head.

"It's true. You ask her what she was doing in here when I got here. Go on Matt."

Matt chuckled then. "Oh, well in that case..."

"Yes?" Erin prompted, turning around carefully to avoid banging her sizable stomach on anything.

"... it was my fault."

"What?" Mark and Erin in unison.

"Oh," was all I could manage.

"I can't explain," Matt concluded, "without discussing it with Holly. Tell you later." He grinned at me then, and hustled Erin out of the room, ignoring the protests from both of them.

"Hey bro!" Mark called out to him, as he was disappearing through the doorway.

He popped his head back in. "Yeah?"

"The water?"

"Huh?"

"Could you turn it off for us? It's a little difficult to get up."