The robe

Phil asked for the heels this time. He wanted the robe, the bare strap, and the sound of me getting fucked on the rug, and he wanted Garrett to see me when I stop making them wait. I said yes before he finished. Garrett came after dinner. I was already at the vanity, one lamp on, the black satin tied once and slipping. One strap sat off my shoulder. I left it there. My heel caught the pile of the rug and I liked the drag.

Phil sat where he could see my back and the dark glass. Garrett stopped in the doorway until I crooked a finger. I untied the robe and did not drop it. It hung open over lace, stomach, and the shine of the heels. I told Garrett to kiss the shoulder I had bared. I told Phil to keep his hands off his cock until I said otherwise. Both of them did it. Garrett's mouth was hot. I reached back, opened his belt, and said I wanted his cock. Phil breathed out like relief.

I stroked Garrett's cock and watched Phil while I told the truth of how that cock felt in my hand. Phil had asked me not to hide it. He nodded, hungry and proud. I bent my arms to the vanity and told Garrett to fuck my cunt. He checked my face. I said please. He moved the lace aside and fucked his cock into my cunt, slow. The robe shook against my wrists. One heel lifted. I came with my forehead near the brushes, Phil's name first and then Garrett's, because the man who asked is not an afterthought here.

Garrett came on my lower back when I told him he could, warm cum, chosen. I laughed once because it was filthy and ours. Then I went to Phil with the robe still half on. I put his hand on my cunt so he could feel what he had asked to see. He fucked my cunt with his fingers while Garrett watched from the rug, quiet and spent. I told Phil he was perfect. His cock jumped in my fist and he came when I asked him to, kissing my wrist. I meant every thank you I said into his mouth.