Home? A whisper in my mind sends out warning bells even as a sense of rightness settles in my bones.
My legs feel like rubber. Trick now has a bruise around one eye to match Treat’s cheek, and both have scratches and minor cuts across their hands and faces. All things considered, we came out of it mostly unscathed.
“Did anyone see what happened to Jonathan?” I ask, my voice wavering with exhaustion.
“Smires took him into custody for illegal reanimation, disturbing the peace; I’m sure they’ll patch him up and find some other charges to throw at him.”
“I don’t get it,” I say. “What on earth would make him think, ‘hey, I should raise a zombie army and have them put on a show’?”
Treat’s eyes meet Trick’s, before he asks, “Do you want to tell her or should I?”
Trick’s smile widens as he laughs. “Oh, please. Let me!” Waiting for Treat’s nod, he then grabs my hands. “He was trying to impress a girl.”
“You’re kidding?” I shake my head in disbelief. “What girl would be stupid enough to be impressed by a zombie apocalypse?”
Stepping up to drop a kiss on top of my head, Treat whispers in my ear, “A master banisher.”
“What!” Outrage quivers like a bow. My body tenses, ready to send a scathing arrow to its target, but the target isn’t here. Deflated, I mutter under my breath. “As if.”
Lips lick along the outer shell of my ear and I shiver, a flicker of desire burning like a fuse down my spine from where Treat nuzzles the lobe.
It’s moments like these when you reevaluate some of the more rash decisions you allow to rule your life. Sure, Roger was an ass, but why have I let my bruised ego keep me from trusting? Sure, Trick and Treat are slayers, but when danger reared its ugly head, they were there to stand beside me. As both a shield, and a weapon. They were what I always expected Roger to be. Instead, his false ego left me feeling defeated and undesirable, while Trick and Treat make me feel safe and sexy.
Am I really that stupid to turn down a gift when it’s practically laid at my feet and offered freely? No. No, I’m not. Will it last for a lifetime? Who knows, but you have to start somewhere.
Peace settles in my chest as warmth envelopes me and Trick crowds closer, hands running up and down my arms before whispering, “Trick or Treat?”
A wicked thought answers his question in my mind, before I have the courage to voice it aloud.
“I thought you said it was Trick and Treat?” I offer hesitantly, my tongue darting across my dry lips as his hands tighten on my arms, and Treat’s lips pause momentarily.
“Well, to be honest, we prefer it that way, but one of us can bow out gracefully if need be. You just need to decide.” Trick’s words are casual, but the desire is clear. “But let me remind you, if you’re going to choose, it’s my birthday.”
“Unfair!” Treat huffs from behind me. “I’m older. I should get precedence.”
“Not tonight, Pops. As of today, we’re the same age,” Trick argues, proof that he’s deliberately trying to bait his brother.
“That’s not how it works and you know it. Whether or not we’re the same age, I am always the elder sibling!” Treat reinforces what is obviously an argument of long-standing.
Turning to place my finger on his lips, I end the debate. “I never did like having to choose my favorite candy.” Stretching my cramped muscles, I remove my finger from his lips, running my hand up his neck to curl into the fine hairs at the back. “Who do I get to unwrap first?”
“Allow me.” Trick’s fingers make quick work of the side clasp on my skirt, slipping it down over my hips to drop to the floor.
I step out, kicking it swiftly aside as Treat’s lips nibble at my own, softly at first, then more insistent as Trick steps closer, his knee forcing my legs wider, his chest pressing against my back.
Lazily, Treat’s hands drift beneath the hem of my shirt just as his tongue plunges into the warm cave of my mouth, tasting like the sweetest candy. My skin trembles with every pass as his hand sweeps across the soft pillow of my belly, down my hip, and digs into the ample flesh of my ass as if it’s a handle to transport me where he wants to go. Lips still plundering my own, he walks me backwards while Trick’s hands grasp my hips to guide us so I don’t stumble. Like dancers entwined, or a one-celled amoeba, we glide fluidly backward toward the bedroom, never breaking contact. Trick’s hands lift the hem of my shirt and discard it somewhere along the way.
Hades hisses as the bedroom door slams against the wall, darting between our legs to escape the tangle of bodies trying to organize into some sense of purpose. My fingers are no longer tentative as I drag Treat’s shirt upward, across tight abs, sweeping over the crisp hairs on his chest. I break contact with his lips to allow him to lift the shirt over his head, choosing to replace my hands with my lips. Each nibble draws me further as I nuzzle into his breastbone, placing small kisses across his collarbone, and down his chest until I reach the hard discs of his nipples.
Vibrations tickle my lips as he groans in response, a weak chuckle escaping as his hands tangle in my hair, pulling roughly until my scalp tingles.
“My turn.” Twisting my body to face his, cool air pebbles my nipples as Trick slips the buttons of my shirt through each hole until it falls off my shoulders, exposing my breasts.
The flesh quivers in response as his hands release the hooks of my bra, my breasts falling heavily without the extra support. It would be nice to believe they stood at attention, all perky with a saucy smile; instead, I know that they’re sagging and somewhat cock-eyed. The thought disappears as quickly as it came when Trick’s lips latch on to one of my nipples, drawing it between his teeth as if he wants to devour me.
What a travesty. As an adult, I abhorred Halloween as just a commercial excuse to sell cheesy decorations and candy. Little did I know, Trick or Treat was a euphemism for unrestrained pleasure of the best kind of eye candy. The lyrics, ‘I Want Candy’, repeat in my head as Treat captures my lips once again.
The sound of zippers and denim being shed is music to my ears until solid flesh wraps around my body, encircling me in pure warmth. My skin melts like chocolate in the heat of the hands stroking my skin, and dragging my panties down my hips. The mattress bounces and sways as we fall into one mess of limbs, struggling to separate and drag ourselves further onto the surface, before attaching again.
My hips jerk as lips drag across my stomach, a tongue dipping into my belly button, before lapping a straight line down through the sparse hairs covering my sex to the promised land between my legs. Hallelujah! A man with an appetite for more than his own pleasure. Treat’s fingers dip between my lower lips, flicking and teasing the small nub straining to be tasted. Such an obliging man. I groan as his lips latch onto that pearl of pleasure, licking and sucking as if his life depended on it. His fingers plunge into me, curling upward to stroke me to pleasure in tune with his tongue.
My breasts strain and arch off the bed in need of contact. Trick’s hand forces me solidly back into the mattress before pouring a line of sugar down my cleavage, his lips licking a path through its wake.
“Where on earth did you find a pixie stick here?” I gasp as Trick teases my nipples, coating them in sugar and biting gently, while Treat teases me relentlessly below.
“It was in your banishing kit. I saw you hoarding them earlier,” he teases, grabbing my hand and guiding it to his hard length. “I grabbed it in the car while you were recovering. But I bet my pixie stick tastes better.”
Shifting on the mattress, he rises above me so that the velvet length of him is within range of my lips, even as my thumb swipes across the broad tip, gathering the bead leaking in anticipation. Sucking my thumb into my mouth, I hum in pleasure.
“Perhaps it’s an acquired taste,” I tease. “I need a bigger sample to be sure.”
“Take as much as you can.” The invitation is clear as I wrap my lips around the head, my hand firmly wrapping the base in my grip, eliciting a groan of pleasure from each of us. My lips hesitate as my position shifts below, my legs being spread wide as Treat decides he’s done with the tasting menu.
“Hang on, baby. It’s time to banish those cravings for good.” My eyes widen at my first view of his length, lining up to fill me. “Keep your eyes on the prize. Trick hates being neglected.”
My gaze shifts back to Trick, his eyes half-closed in pleasure, and I swirl my tongue around the tip of his dick, sucking down his length until his eyes cross.
My thighs clamp tightly around Treat’s hips as his dick presses insistently against me, before he sinks in to the hilt with a grunt. The pressure of his length fills me with solid velvet that strokes me from within. My lips continue to tease and slide up and down Trick’s length, drawing him deeper into the cave of my mouth until he presses to the back of my throat, causing me to gasp for air. He quickly draws back, allowing me some space to breathe before punishing my mouth with a ragged rhythm.
My hips jerk in Treat’s hands as he anchors me to his smoother rhythm of deep thrusts, until I squirm on the edge of a climax, frustrated when he suddenly pulls back into shallow thrusts. With no volition, my hips chase his dick, squirming to get his body back to the golden spot inside that brings me closer and closer to the razor’s edge of desire.
Pumping my hand more rapidly around Trick’s length, I beg Treat to match my rhythm with his body, trying to show him the pace I need to take me over the edge. Finally. Finally, the pace from below matches the pace from above as we all slip into a synergy of motion, ragged breaths and groans of desire frantically catching fire until we all go up in flames. Like a fuse igniting from one wick to the next.
Trick springs from my mouth, spilling his essence across my chest and belly before collapsing beside me. Stars dance before my eyes as the world explodes in a prism of colors and textures that would do Willy Wonka proud. Treat pumps into me with four more powerful thrusts before falling across me, his body heavy on mine, his pants ragged in my ear.
Nonsense fills my mind as I drift off to sleep, mumbling my words into Treat’s hair, where his head rests on my shoulder. “Now that’s what I call a sugar rush.”
Our bodies shift on the mattress, arms and legs entwined, and for the first time in a long time, I feel safe and cherished in the cocoon of limbs surrounding me from both sides. A girl could get used to this type of indulgence. Watching the deep rise and fall of their chests, I’m filled with a sense of longing. My throat is hoarse from my many screams and moans of unabated pleasure, and I can’t wait to give voice to those feelings again.
A low moan startles me, and I place my hands over my guys’ chests to see who is reading my mind, when a shadow crosses the bedroom window. The faint smell of earth and death makes my nose itch.
“Ummm, guys…” I whisper, my eyelids fluttering as I try to fight sleep before it claims me, though I want nothing more than to surrender.
“Shit!” A sleepy voice grumbles as hard bodies shift around me. “You’ve got to be kidding me. On three?”
Arms and fists wave above my body.
“1, 2, 3, shoot! Rock smashes scissors,” Treat gloats in a whisper. “You’re up, baby brother. Have fun. I know I will.”
The bed dips heavily as Trick drops a kiss on the top of my head.
“Dream of me,” he whispers while reluctantly pushing off the edge of the bed.
I’m rolled tightly into Treat’s warm body and finally drift off to sleep secure in the arms that hold me, and the knowledge that someone guards us. Tomorrow? Well, we’ll just figure it out as we go along.
Maybe this town is big enough for all of us.
Enjoyed NecroDancer? Here you can find all the links to keep you on top of her mischief!