Spycraft Academy by B. Miles (little readers .txt) 📕

Drina tugged Rosin down and the blonde drifted to the ground. Mattie pulled him from Drina’s mouth and held him inches from Rosin’s parted lips. When Rosin slid him into her mouth, it was slow and unsure. He didn’t move a muscle for fear of startling her. She sucked at the top experimentally, slowly getting used to the movements. Drina and Mattie whispered encouragement to her. Sam’s hips twitched ever so slightly. He needed more. He would have begged them to have mercy if they wanted him to, just as long as they gave him more.

His heartbeat quickened and he breathed through his mouth. Drina fisted Rosin’s silver hair and pushed her gently, wedging Sam further into her mouth. Then Drina pulled her. Again. Again. She did it faster and faster until all he could see was Rosin’s bobbing head. Sam couldn’t think straight. Just a little more.

Drina suddenly pulled Rosin off him completely. His hips thrust at the air almost desperately.

“You did good,” Drina said, guiding Rosin’s head back to where he needed her. Drina let go of the blonde and leaned forward, licking him and smirking all the while. Rosin watched her for a moment before she bent forward and took him into her mouth again.

When Drina’s mouth met Rosin’s, the blonde girl moved just enough to share with Drina, and then they were kissing, his length dipping in and out of their mouths while their tongues tangled in a messy, breathless dance.

He might have lasted longer if Drina didn’t plunge him into her mouth and grab him by the hips, guiding his thrusts until he was buried in her throat. He was so full, ready to burst, and when Drina sucked all of the air from her mouth, she sucked the very essence from him and didn’t stop until he had no more to give.

Sam took a shuddering breath and slumped against Mattie. Drina wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a victorious smile on her swollen lips.

Seconds later, when he could think again, he realized that the three of them were staring at him, varying degrees of impatient desire pouring out of their expressions.

“Our turn,” Mattie whispered.

Sam was on his knees, his hip bones digging into Mattie’s backside as she pressed herself hard against him, smothering his length and rocking against him. His hands clung to her hips, holding on too tightly to be anything near gentle.

The clearing was filled with gasps, squeaks, strained mewls, and breathy moans as the girls lapped at one another, the wet sounds of Sam’s length squeezing into Mattie’s core punctuating the chorus of carnality.

Sam leaned forward and pressed his fingers into the little button above Mattie’s center. Her legs twitched and she gasped, though it was muffled between Drina’s thighs. Seconds later, Drina whined and arched off the ground, her hips jerking away from Mattie just as Rosin cried out, grinding down on Drina’s mouth. Sam quickened his fingers and his hips until Mattie fluttered around him and cried out, her body stiffening, her legs shaking like twigs in the breeze.

Sam didn’t let himself finish. It was a close thing, the throbbing pressure at the root of his length was tensed, tight, threatening to force him over the edge and into his climax. Women might be able to go hours and hours without stopping, but that was a bit more difficult for a man.

When the four of them recovered, Mattie’s eyes shot to Drina, who held her hands up, panting. “Look, I just didn’t get the chance to tell you, and I didn’t want to surprise you.”

Sam was still buried to the hilt inside of Mattie.

“Surprise me?” Mattie rotated her hips and slowly bounced against his lap. Sam bit his lip.

Drina laughed. “Uh, yeah, I’m just a bit…sensitive is all. Once the first one happens, I’m a useless, boneless mess that can’t really stop ah…you know…going.”

Sam squeezed Mattie’s hips, warning her that he was teetering. Distantly, he heard the wickedness in Mattie’s voice. “I don’t know, actually. How about you take Sam for a ride and show us what you’re talking about?”

23

Over the following two weeks, Sam trekked through his days in a fog. Between classes, the fencing lessons that inevitably turned into a tangle of limbs and breathy sounds, and watching the administrative building, Sam was utterly exhausted. Somehow, he kept up with his studies just enough so that he didn't fall behind.

When he slept past the first and second classes of the day, he knew he needs to do something about his schedule. He made an excuse about having a cold and spent the entire day sleeping so deeply that it was closer to a void of blackness than a rest. He woke up to a hand on his shoulder, shaking him and calling his name.

Sam opened his eyes with a great amount of willpower and looked blearily up at Mattie, who held a steaming tray between her hands. She looked so worried that he almost felt bad for her rather than himself. Almost.

Drina leaned over and pressed her hand to his forehead.

“I’m not sick, just really tired,” he croaked.

Rosin rushed to his side and held his face between her hands, her big sky-blue eyes filled with concern and warmth.

“This is fucking ridiculous, yeah? He can’t keep functioning like he has,” Drina said to Mattie, gesturing wildly at Sam.

“I’m tired, not dead. Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Sam grumbled. His throat was so dry. Rosin, bless her, must have heard the scratch in his acrid throat, because she grabbed the water from the tray and held it to his lips while he sipped.

“Shut up, Sam. You’re unwell, so just lay there and be miserable,” Drina huffed, looking back at Mattie. The redhead sighed and set his supper on the side table.

“You’re right. He runs himself ragged like this all the time. I just didn’t realize how much he was doing it