Uninhibited

Ladies first

**

"Good morning." Trey's sensual drawl twangs a chord right down in my perpetually throbbing center.

My body rejoices when his palm ventures beneath my tank, and his skin touches mine. It's as if someone slingshot a water balloon between my legs. Very excessive—much like my mind.

But this morning, even though I'm not ready to crack a lid yet, my mind is at peace.

Chaz came back to my place for a little yesterday after our heart to heart. We'd let Trey nap for a while since he'd missed an entire night of sleep. Forget that—I'm a dickhead without my eight to twelve hours. Though, I could do it for him. Because I was recently saying the only thing that makes me bearable, alert, and cheery as fuck is a nice, hot, dark, steamy cup of coffee.

Well, move over, Joe. Trey's in town, and I promise you the dopamine released after each mind-bending orgasm has proved far more satisfying than the caffeine I claim to crave. Not that I'll stop drinking it—hells no. But a mocha latte certainly can't do that thing I like.

He is nice and hot, with hair that's kinda dark, and he's steamy as can be. It's so much more than how he affects me physically. However, this guy knows how to tongue the toaster—pro status. I'm convinced he's obsessed with oral.

I know. Poor me.

Moving on. So Chucky boy, who was only out of my good graces for about an hour, hung around and waited till Trey woke up. They'd gone out to my four-by-four balcony and had what I'm guessing was a man-to-man. Trey didn't reveal much, which I can respect.

Chaz wore a few side-eyed smirks, saying it was weird—I get it. When I first saw Danielle in his apartment, it was sort of strange. But why not make the best of all of it? He gets a two for one when we're together. Basically, we made his life easier.

His invite stands for dinner and an overnight stay tomorrow. And it's safe to say my guys will hit it off, so I suppose I'll make an effort with Danielle. I really haven't given her a fair chance, or any chance. Whatever niggling intuition I'm feeling is probably self-embellished.

It was a great Thanksgiving—best one yet—shared with two of my favorite humans. When Chaz had headed home for his own dinner, Trey heated, or finished the goodies he'd brought with him, forbidding me to lift a finger. The guy cooks. The guy enjoys cooking. Pinch me.

After he'd de-boned that turkey, creamed the corn, mashed those potatoes, and glazed some carrots, we forked the pumpkin pie and whipped the cream to death. Then we had lots of sex and fell asleep.

Trey whispers my name against my ear in an effort to wake me. Not a morning person—we've been over this. But judging from the three alarms I've heard go off and smacked into submission, it's time to gear up to meet Court.

He sweeps the hair from the side of my face, and I smile against my pillow as he nuzzles into me. Trey is a snuggler; I'm talking premium big-spoon material. When I say I could get used to this, I'm no bullshit.

I'd told him the same boohoo story I shared with Chaz. The relief of getting it out there—to both of them—felt like an enormous burden off my shoulders. He let me cuddle into him, and said most of the same as our reconciled friend. Now that the secret's gone, I don't want it back. I'm ready to move on.

He gives me a gentle shake. "We have to meet Court soon."

My hand shoots up to conduct a blind search, landing on abundant lashes, then trailing the slope of his nose. When I reach his lips, his teeth trap my fingertip, and I swear I purr, rolling onto my back. Trey covers me like the best weighted blanket, and my nipples are ready to slice through my cotton tank on contact.

"Mm-mm," I mumble—a closed-lip, no type of mumble—in response to his request.

"I bet I can get you up and at 'em." He kisses the corner of my mouth, my jaw, and then that spot behind my ear.

I don't open my eyes. "Mmm." This sound is more a yes.

His efforts continue, working over my top and down to my waist before he tugs at the band of my shorts—why'd I even bother with clothes? His lips connect right above... mine.

The knee-quaking and wall-shaking set in after his finger performs a leisurely investigation, discovering my obvious arousal that's threatening to actually rouse me.

"It feels like you're ready to wake up." He pushes my legs apart. "Lemme see those beautiful brown eyes."

I whimper at the slow, slick glide of his tongue that runs bottom to top, and my hips jump. Trey laughs when I nearly knock him out with my pelvis, and the low vibration blasts to my nipples, then my brain, and ends up back where it started.

His arms wrap around my thighs, he pushes them up to my chest, and he goes deliciously feral. He laps his tongue before driving it inside me, over and over, till I'm squirming. Then he's sucking so wildly, kissing and devouring me with the same passion he offers my mouth. The increasingly wet sounds of my—now—favorite alarm clock have me arching into him, panting, and grasping at the sheets.

Pro status—you heard it first.

His fingers join the party, eliciting a gasp. "Should I make your tight pussy come on my hand?" He pumps and curls them just right, stroking that glorious spot.

I'm close to whining when he pulls out, but my dismay is clipped when Trey's insatiable tongue alternates from flicking my clit to frenching the trench. Alright, that one's a bit much—but it makes sense.

"Or with my mouth?" He glances up, and his glistening lips might be the most alluring sight I've ever seen.

"All the above," I squeak. I'm not kidding, combining options A and B is a shoo-in. He's a venus butterfly aficionado.

"Thought that might get you to open your eyes," Trey says, sliding his tongue along his uneven smile.

I squint to dim-down the early morning light tormenting me, but the view's worthwhile. "You are so much better than coffee." My fingers comb into his hair, and he growls when I pull.

I love the dirty, unguarded words that come from his mouth. I love coming in his mouth. I love everything about his mouth. I love—

New train of thought.

"I'm glad I'm better than coffee. Though, I still like to grind your bean." I can't help but laugh at his corny joke. He's spent too much time with me.

"Come up here," I say through choppy breaths.

"Not yet." His mussed waves tickle my inner thighs before he parts me again with a hot stripe of his tongue. "Ladies first."

A/N: Well, there's that. Frenching the trench.... I can't! Thanks guys💕. I appreciate all of you taking your time to read. I'm far too into meeting new people, so if the mood strikes, say hi, tell me something cool, whatev!