Tears. She remembered feeling so damned good, then why were there tears?
A hand brushed through her hair, which was tangled. Another rubbed her naked thigh like it was a colicky baby. And another...
Another hand covered her pussy, a fourth her breast.
"Hey, Jessie," said Pat, the one up near her head.
"You okay, baby?" asked Mario, from the other end.
"Okay?" she laughed through the tears. "Okay? Sweet Jesus with a hard-on!"
They laughed with her, though neither of them sounded certain they should.
Jessie sat up, her legs slipping off of Mario's shoulders. She leaned forward and kissed him. "Thank you."
"Welcome."
She turned and kissed Pat. "Thank you, too."
"Welcome." She could feel him grinning into her lips. "So. We done for the night?"
She blinked at him. "Aw, fuck no!"
"Good." He stood and held out his hand to her. "Come on. Unless you want to fuck us fuckin' dry in here."
"Nah." She peered out the window, but the outside was black. "Where we at?" Mario stood behind her, his hands on her hips, where her dress was slowly working its way back down.
Slipping out the door, Pat gave a grunt of a laugh. "A place where we can make all the noise we want, and nobody's going to hear us."
Curious, nervous, Jessie followed Pat out the door and was confronted by smell of pine and, overhead, the bright river of light that was the Milky Way.
They were on a mountain top. There were plenty of those around the town — but this one looked familiar. Turning her head, Jessie saw a dark shape thrusting up into the dark night. "Oh!"
"Yup." Pat squeezed her hand.
Stepping out out of the car, Mario took the other. "A fire spotting tower?"
"Yeah," sighed Jessie. They were on the same sides they'd been on walking to the car. It was... sweet. "Andy volunteered up here when he was in school."
"Me too, for a couple of months," murmured Pat. "Forestry Commission. Summer before my senior year of college and I thought it would be fun. Spent most of the time reading the same four books over and over and whacking off, dreaming about getting a visit from a six-foot blonde goddess of a full-blown woman with her dress falling off."
Pleased and embarrassed, Jessie tried to cover her bare boobs, but of course only managed to pull her two boys' hands to them. They didn't seem to mind.
When they began to caress her — Mario gently, Pat more aggressively — she sure as hell didn't mind either.
But as the fire started to catch again, Jessie decided that it was time for her to take control. Or at least try. She peeled their hands away from her and stepped toward the stairs that led up to the tower. As she walked, she pushed her dress down over her hips and let it fall to the pine-needle-covered ground. (It's black. I can clean it later. Fuck it.) Stepping out of it, she turned and leaned back against the metal i-beam holding up the tower at the corner next to the stairs. For a moment, feeling the moonlight splashing over her body, taking in their stunned expressions, she did feel like a goddess. A bit. "Either of y'all gonna join me?"
For a moment, she stood there, buck-naked in her low pumps, there at the top of King Mountain; the air flowed over her flowering pussy, still warm, but cooler than down in the valley, and Jessie felt her skin erupt in goose pimples.
The two men sauntered toward her, shedding their uniforms as they came. With the moon behind them, it looked like they were shedding layers of themselves — jackets first, shirts... Mario's silhouette was a bit taller and leaner; Pat was broad-shouldered...
But when their bare chests pressed against her bare chest and their mouths latched onto her throat, her ears, the differences blurred into a haze of moon-washed sensation, and heat and wet and sound flowed through Jessie, and she was blind.
Ma and Danielle liked to read those god-awful Harlequins and Mills & Boons, with their throbbing manhoods and their weeping womanhoods. Fuck that shit. Somewhere around five years into Jessie's marriage to Booger, one of the girls at the store had turned her onto smut: to stories featuring cocks and cunts and lots and lots of FUCKING. Just what she wasn't getting in real life. She'd bought herself a Kindle for Booger to give her as a birthday present and nobody had any idea what she was reading that was keeping her so happy.
Or kept her sneaking off to the girls' room so often.
And she'd discovered that her favorite stories always involved a woman with a man in uniform. Well, in uniform for a while. Cop. Military. Firefighter, like her snot-nosed little brother. Even better, two men in uniform. For a while.
And here she was: living the story.
And holy FUCK, it was better than the fucking books.
Two very different mouths latched onto her tits at the same moment that two very different hands slid up between her goose-pimply thighs and began to stroke her pussy lips.
Much better than the fucking books.
Not wanting to lose herself completely, not wanting all of this to end, to turn out to be some sort of bizarre dream or something, Jessie decided she wouldn't be like the girls in most of her stories — lying back and enjoying themselves, letting themselves get carried away on the waves of feeling — Jessie ran her hands down the men's rippling, bare ribs to their still-uniformed hips. To their crotches.
A long, thin pair of fingers pushed themselves up into her slick, welcoming cunt while a muscled thumb began to whir over her clit, and a sound exploded from Jessie that she was pretty sure they'd heard all the way down in the valley. All the way down in fucking Atlanta.
And she really didn't fucking care.
But she did want...
Sliding her unsteady hands up to the tops of the two flies, she popped the buttons, unzipped the trousers, and yanked out two...