All Hallows Eve, Vol. 3

Chapter 11

Eleven

Harper

If I thought vaginal sex felt foreign, having fingers in my ass feels like I’m on another planet. Whitney didn’t need much prep since we occasionally play, but nothing has ever entered my back door.

It was beautiful to see the changes her facial expressions made as Henry guided her down onto his cock. My breathing stopped when her brows pinched and her eyes scrunched. I hated seeing her in pain and almost used our safeword, but she paused and took a few deep breaths before sinking onto him further.

Now, her face shows only pure bliss as she’s arched backward, hands braced on Henry’s knees, pumping him with her ass.

“I think you’re ready.”

“Hmm? Oh. Ready.” I was lost in the trance that my girlfriend’s beautiful body put me in; I had completely forgotten there were fingers up my ass.

Beau pulls them out, and I feel empty. I move to roll over, and a firm hand lands on my hip.

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, um. I was rolling over?” I don’t understand why he’s questioning what I’m doing. He said it was time.

“Why?”

Why? “So you can, um… put it in my butt?” This is awkward.

“No, pretty girl. You’re going to stay on your back.”

“I’m so confused. Where are you planning to put that thing?” That massive thing that he’s stroking in his hand.

Beau smirks and exchanges a look with Cruz, who’s been diligently reassuring me how well I’ve been doing during all this prep.

Beau moves his hand, and his finger rims my asshole. “Right here. I want to see your face and know you’re enjoying yourself when I’m taking your ass.”

“Oh.” I feel the head of his cock press up against my ass. He rubs it up and down a few times, teasing my clit before I feel the pressure of his head.

“Deep breath, Harper. Cruz, why don’t you help her out.”

“Gladly.”

With a smile, Cruz’s fingers disappear between my legs, and he circles my clit. When I gasp, Beau takes the opportunity to push his hips forward. It burns. He’s much thicker than the three fingers he was using to prep me.

Cruz strums my clit like a guitar, and the heat coils low in my belly.

“You’re doing so good,” Cruz coos at me. “Are you going to come for me and squeeze Beau’s cock?”

“Oh god, fuck, Henry!” Whitney screams next to me as her body convulses on top of Henry. He’s thrusting hard into her, and a guttural roar lets everyone know he’s finished right along with her.

“Good. Now focus on me, darlin’.” My head snaps back to Beau’s beautiful blue eyes. “Cruz asked you a question. Are you going to come for us?”

Beau pushes two fingers into my pussy at the same time he pushes fully into my ass. Between my ass, pussy, and clit, I explode. I scream. I jerk around like a fish out of water at the intensity.

Warm lips cover mine, attempting to reduce the sound, and I instantly recognize it’s Whitney. She strokes my hair with her hand and my tongue with hers while my orgasm subsides and I come back to earth.

“How does he feel inside you?”

“Big. Good.” Beau shifts and fuck me. “In-fucking-credible,” I moan into her mouth.

Cruz appears with wet washcloths and encourages Whitney to roll so he can clean her, and my focus goes back to Beau. He leans down, covering my body, and kisses me with the same rhythm his hips move.

“You’re taking me so well. You’re such a fucking good girl. You stretch so pretty for me.”

My mind swirls with the praise he’s giving me. My entire mind and body are in hyperdrive. There’s been so much sex and sweet words of encouragement. I don’t want to ever wake up from this fever dream. I want to live in sex-filled bliss where I get my choice of pussy or cock 24/7.

Everyone’s focus is on me as I’m brought to another orgasm that takes every last ounce of energy I have. I’ve lost track of the number I’ve had, but at this point, I don’t think I even want to know.

Beau grunts, and his hips stutter as he empties himself into my ass. Cruz is ready and waiting to clean me up when he pulls out, and I’m instantly engulfed in warmth as Whitney’s arms close around me.

“You’re fucking amazing, Baby. We need to sleep now.”

“Sleep. Yes,” I mumble. I’m not even sure the letters actually form words, but I drift off into a dreamless sleep, wrapped around my girlfriend.

“Why is it so bright in here? Ugh!” I’m jostled awake by Whitney’s moaning as she covers her face with a pillow. “Who turned on the sun this early? My head hurts.”

I mentally assess my own body, and a headache makes its appearance.

“It’s all your fault, Whit.”

“What did I do?” She scoots closer to me, nestling into my shoulder.

“We must have had too much to drink last night if we are both hungover.”

“The only thing we drank last night was that gross pot?—”

She shoots up in bed, looking around the room in panic and groans, grabbing her head.

“Whitney, what’s wrong? You’re freaking me out.”

“The potion. The men. The sex !”

“Oh shit.” I sit up next to her, and my eyes are instantly drawn to several purple and red marks covering her body. She follows my eyes and inhales sharply when she sees what I’m looking at. Her eyes snap up, and her mouth drops. She pushes a spot on my shoulder, and I wince.

“Ouch. What the hell is that?” I look down to see marks on my body, similar to Whitney’s. I twist the wrong way as I’m looking over our bodies, and a twinge of pain comes from deep in my core.

“Sex. We had sex with… with… fictional characters.” We look around the room again and see nothing out of the ordinary. “I’m sore, are you?”

Whitney shifts her hips and bites her lip. “Yep. Front and back door. Did last night…”

She doesn’t need to finish her sentence. There are endless possibilities that she could say, but the matter stands: our bodies had sex last night.

Whitney grabs my hand, and her eyes pleading. “We have to check the books. I know it sounds unbelievable, but look at us.” She motions to all the marks on our bodies. “Are they still here? I can’t believe that potion worked,” Whitney whisper-shouts, and I understand her hesitation.

“Let’s go. There’s only one way to find out.”

We put on random clothes thrown about the room and quietly tiptoe down the hall. A look in the bathroom shows no one is in there, but several damp-looking towels and washcloths are hung over the shower curtain rod.

As we step into the living room, nothing is strange. Everything is exactly as we left it.

“Look.” Whitney grabs the paperbacks we left on the table when we accidentally spilled the potion. All three men, with their bare chests, lay flat on their respective book covers. “Did this really happen? It wasn’t a dream?”

I take the books from her hands and place them back on the table. Pulling her into my chest, I inhale her scent but smell a hint of ruggedness, trees, and danger.

“I don’t think it was a dream. But it’s something I’ll never forget. I love you, Whitney. Whatever happened last night, it definitely worked. I’ll love you forever.”

“I’ll love you forever, too, Harper. Besides, no one would ever believe us.”

In a fit of giggles, we go back to bed to nurse our sore bodies and bask in our love.