Page 29 of Among the Screaming Trees

Beer fizzes through my bloodstream, and my limbs loosen with the freedom of inhibitions, while my mind is relaxed for the first time in years. Sharing the Malchoydian Pepperberry with the guys was beyond cathartic—now I’m craving a different type of release. Lukaz pulls me to straddle him, impatient with Fox’s possessive hold and exploratory kisses. Fox is shy; it’s clear in his careful touches that ask for permission rather than staking a claim. He’s soft and sweet, a contrast to Lukaz’s ownership.

Luk groans into my mouth as my pelvis drags over his with an aching slowness that’s pure torture. His need is on full display, and my pubic bone meets it every single time I rock forward. His palms splay across my ass, and she’s a generous trunk, that one. Lucky for me, his hands are too. He pulls me to him, the motion eliciting a growl of frustration when I bite his bottom lip. Fox hugs his knees to his chest, content to watch—for now. His long, dark hair frames a curious face, his head canted to the side, studying us like we’re museum sculptures. Only we move and groan and breathe and kiss. I have never been kissed like this before, slow and sultry with a spice hit that has a sting. Luk is the scorpion’s tail to Fox’s sweet sincerity. Both are different. Both desirable.

Luk stands, pulling me up in the same movement. My legs wrap around his hips as he carries me into a bedroom in four strides. This dorm is small. I thought it might have been a male’s inability to judge size and space, but Lukaz is right, Tali and I got the bigger and better deal, by far. He spins, seating himself on the side of his bed with my back to the door. I sneak a glance over my shoulder to where Fox lurks in the shadows.

“He’s really shy, babe,” Luk clarifies as Fox’s head drops with a gentle rhythm. “Is it okay if he watches, though? You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Foxglove?”

Fox continues to nod, his head pressed into the doorframe. He’s holding himself back, and the effort is monumental, or he has no intention of crossing the threshold. Either way, I’m fine with an audience, as long as Luk is, too. He reaches for the nightstand and switches on a lamp to douse the side of the bed in a golden, hazy glow that offsets the shadows. We make quick work of stripping each other bare, his thick cock bobbing free once his pants are clear of his hips. Luk has an incredible skin tone, a light tan on his olive skin suggesting he spends a lot of time outdoors. His tawny nipples are erect and begging to be bitten, but I can’t take my gaze away from his abdominal muscles. The dips and ridges of packed muscle are a testament to his fitness and workout routine. Luk spins me on his lap, my back to his front. I soon discover it’s so Fox has a better view. The edges of the lamplight corona illuminate half my body, splitting me down the middle in shadow and warmth. Luk arranges my thighs outside of his, and widens his legs so I’m lewdly on display, pussy spread and dripping.

“Luk.” It’s a plea.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he says, his warm breath ghosting my neck and collarbone when his fingers find my clit. He spreads me wider with one hand and circles with the other. Fox adjusts his posture, a hand massaging the outline of his hard cock beneath his pants.

“See how much she likes that?” he questions, and Fox just stares back at us, his gaze fixed. Luk drags his knuckles over the sensitive flesh, drawing out moan after moan, my back pressed to his front. One hand snakes behind his neck, the other digs into his powerful thigh as my orgasm rallies.

“Fuck, man, she’s so wet. I wish you could feel her. Can you smell her?”

Fox works his button and zipper free, sliding his trousers over his ass and pulling his cock out from a pair of black briefs. The sight is overstimulating. He’s massive. With Luk’s hard cock in the crease of my ass, and Fox’s monster in front of me, my brain short circuits. Pleasure chemicals spill like a burst dam, and I come with a shudder.

“You see how much she loves that, dude? It’s all about pressure on the clit. The more you turn her on, the wetter she’ll be. Makes your dick glide in nice and easy.”

He bites the fleshy part of my shoulder, continuing to draw out my climax. But why the running commentary? Does he fuck girls while his dorm buddy watches? I can’t work out why this dynamic seems so strange, while I watch Fox’s hand shuttle along his shaft. Maybe it’s dirty talking that he’s into? Without further verbal updates, Luk tilts my hips, running the head of his cock through my wetness. Once he’s satisfied it’s lubed sufficiently, he angles me forward, the action causing my pendant to sway free of my chest and breasts. At first, I sensed Fox was transfixed by the movement, but no, his gaze was lower. Luk spreads me wider still and lines up his crown before easing inside. His hands fall to my hips, and then oh my God, he eases in. His fullness takes my breath away, albeit momentarily. Fox amps up the pace of his strokes, just as Lukaz stands, lifting me with him, his cock buried to the hilt. Turning, he lowers me to the bed, my nipples meeting the cold sheets that are giving lavender and honey, and a hint of citrus.

“Sorry, buddy, I gotta go deep,” he drawls, as his chest blankets my back and our pelvises fuse in the most delicious way.

My palms are flat on his bed, sliding under his pillow as he continues to thrust into me. It’s deep and delicious, but Fox has lost his front-row seat, or doorway lean, technically.

“Rear entry positions allow you to go deeper. Like reverse cowgirls, she can set the pace, or doggy is great too. You can lower her tits to the bed and really go to town.”

“Lukaz, shut up. Do you need to provide a blow-by-blow description as we blow?”

“Sorry, baby, he’s new to this. I feel it’s only right that I impart my extensive knowledge to this green scholar.”

The moan that escapes me also drags away any protest I had to his explanation. For a second, I forget he’s observing, only for the slide of his palm along his dick to join the noise of our slick fucking.

“Does it make you wetter knowing he’s looking at your spread cunt? That he’s so desperate to be the one driving into you right now?” The words are whispered low into my ear before it’s seized between snapping teeth and tugged.

“Yes.”

“Once you get to know each other better, he can join us. Would you like that, Aspen? Like being stuffed full of two thick, hard cocks? We’d fuck you so good, baby.”

“Yes!” If my first reply was an extended moan, my last is a curling growl from deep behind my sternum. The friction as he drives into me, his hands squeezing my breasts and sensitive nipples, his filthy words plus the enthusiastic audience, has another climax teetering on the precipice.

“That’s it, squeeze me good. I’m not far, and neither are you. I can tell by the way this pussy is rippling, little tree. Do you love how I fuck you?”

I can’t argue with his confidence, or synopsis, and my pussy can’t lie either. His cock was made to own me. The ridges of his prominent veins provide their own teasing pressure, and I can’t hold back any longer. I come again on a cry, pushing up on my palms only to collapse again under the strain of whole-body, numbing euphoria. Luk roars his release, pumping into me with a frenzied pace and pulsing friction. His head sinks between my shoulder blades as he stills, his dick still spasming inside me.

There is a muffled, strangled sound; we both turn in time to see Fox release over his hand and abdomen, creamy cum shooting upward before dripping down his slick skin. His shoulders shake with exertion, chest expanding to recover a more regular respiratory rate. He looks so calm and content. Like all he needed to solve the world’s problems was to jack off to his personal porn show. With his load still dripping off his hand, and Luk up on his knees telling him to “Clean your mess, brother, this isn’t your room now,” Fox mouths two words toward the pillow, before retreating to the bathroom.

“Thank you.”

Chapter Sixteen

Aspen

ALL MOLDS ARE FUNGI, BUT NOT ALL FUNGI ARE MOLDS

Professor Donnelyn’s office is at the far end of the Botanical Science faculty wing, closer to Dean Grundy, and at the opposite end to Elijah Wyldan. That’s a good thing, because I need to calm down before I request Wyldan check my Genetics Applications paper again. There is no way that’s a seventy-eight. No fucking way. I’ve only had a score in the seventies once before, and that was a group project in first year when the other three dragged the overall mark to a seventy-nine. My individual mark was a ninety-seven, so those dumb fuckers would be mired in the fifties somewhere. Anyway, new year, new state, new me. And a new fucking low mark.