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skywalkoverme · 3 days ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 (𝐑𝐚𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞)

a/n: Request is here! This was so fun to write and I think you can tell from the word count! Enjoy!! EDIT: (Only watched Life as a House bc of my moot, @hellokittyyloverrrr thank you love. Mwah.)

𐙚 James x Fem! x Sam 𐙚 || THREESOME || 18+ MDNI

Summary: The Kelly's spend the Fourth of July at your farm.

Warnings/contains: James Kelly is Sam Monroe's father, southern AU, cheating, threesome, public sex, raw sex, smut, p in v, oral sex (f +m rec), sexually experienced y/n, established relationship, Sam Monroe is 19, Y/n is 25-30, James is 40-45, LOTS of alcohol consumption, smoking etc, sexual situations, edging, dirty talk, humiliation kink, slight breeding kink, cucking and more.

Note: proof read but-- english is not my first language!

Word Count: 6.1k // More on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

You held your hips as you spoke to your husband, seemingly an argument from where James stood. He leaned forward on the hood of his truck across the road. A cigarette between his lips as his knuckles rest in the tuck of his opposite hand. You looked annoyed as you raised something in his face. “…son of a fuckin’ bitch!” You yelled. Your husband pulled whatever it was from your hand and tucked it into his pocket. “I hate you!”

“Ya don’t hate me, woman! Get your ass in the house and stop makin’ a scene!”

“Fuck. You.” You said loud enough for the nosey neighbors to hear before raising a single middle finger.

James exhaled smoke as you climbed into your white truck and slammed the door shut. Your husband chased you down the lawn as you left the driveway with a screech of the tires. James waved towards you. “’Mornin’.” He called towards your husband who looked stressed as usual.

The man sighed, “G’mornin’, Kelly.” You sped off with the wind in your hair before pushing a CD into the player.

“How’s the Missus?” He asked with a smirk while lighting another cigarette.

The two met in the middle of the paved road, “Paranoid per usual.” Your husband sighed and watched the truck swerve around the corner and disappear from sight.

“Is that so?” James took a deep inhale before chuckling, “’Bout time God laid this problem to rest, ain’t it?” Your husband jokingly tapped his watch. “How ‘bout I talk to ‘er?” James smirked, a prideful look on his face while your husband scratched his dark hair.

“I dunno. She’s a bit wild, you know that.” James thought of your sun kissed complexion and untamed hair; those fierce, large brown eyes that seemed to capture the little details of any man; that slick mouth that could gather a girl in seconds.

“One of ‘em rawhide girls, sure is.” James nodded and looked at the house across the street, “M’guessin’ she’s at the mart.” An eyebrow raised as he tilted his head.

“Mhm, talkin’ up her lil’ friends.” James took the keys from his pocket and unlocked his truck door, “Hey,” James stopped in his tracks and turned, “Thank you, Kelly.”

“It’s my pleasure.” He gave a thoughtful look before driving towards town where you likely were. He took his time cruising as he thought of your attitude. Your husband couldn’t handle it most days, but James could. You were quick at the mouth, your words dangerous and rude at times but he loved every part of you. James liked to say you were ‘A whole lotta woman’: body, mind and words alike.

He parked outside of the mart and waited by the ice cooler. When you left the mart, your attention was drawn to the man who smelled of Marlboro reds and engine oil. “James.” You acknowledged him before slowly approaching. “What’d’ya want?” Your accent iced your fast words.

“Y’know why I’m here.” He smiled to your dismay and offered you a cigarette. You weren’t one to turn down free Marlboro reds. You placed the cigarette between your full, red lips and bent down some for him to light the end, “Yer givin’ that old man silver hair.”

You always found it entertaining when James made fun of the age difference between you and your husband. “He’s only 50-somethin''. He can take it.” You shrugged.

“Clearly…” He sarcastically remarked as his eyes flickered down to your breasts as they strained in that white cropped shirt.

“If ya’ came here to calm me down, yer’ late.”

“Really?” You nodded as you exhaled, “I don’t believe you.” He said softly while you looked past him.

“Think I give a shit?” Your attitude that you tried your best to contain, rose once more.

The man groaned as he hugged your waist with one arm as he guided you away from the doors of the mart, “What happened back there?” He lingered for a few moments, his hand on your back as his chest found comfort on your pillowy breasts.

“He came home at nine-fifty last night when his shift ended at eight!” James pulled away and drew from his burning cigarette when you raised your voice. “I know that fucker is cheatin’ on me again! I ain’t no fool, Kelly. I been sayin’ he’s got me bent!” You pointed an accusing finger as if directing your anger at James.

“You really think that?” His voice was happier than it should’ve been upon hearing such incredible news! Well, incredible for him.

“Fuck, yes.” You spat bitterly with a toss of your dark hair.

“Well, he’s insane for cheating.” James muttered as his eyes fell your curves. Even at eight in the morning, you looked stunning. Eyeliner, that he could swear you slept in, stained around your large, brown eyes. One of your husband’s ball caps rests on your head as you lit another one of his cigarettes. A pair of daisy dukes around your hips, the waist band folded over and unbuttoned to make space for your hips. “You should leave him.” You turned your attention back to James.

“Leave him?” A pause. You broke into laughter, holding your own hip. “I can’t leave him, James.”

“Why not? He’s cheatin’.”

“I love ‘em too much to leave. I’ll jus’ get my lick somehow.” You smirked; raspberry red lips stained by your favorite lipstick. James rubbed the back of his neck as you climbed back into your truck. He rests his arms on the open window.

You’d known James for only a few years. Him and his son, Sam, live across the way from you and have grown accustomed to your company. His son was what you’d call ‘a disrespectful, son of Lucifer’ or when you were feeling kind, ‘Lil’ perv.’ Sam kept to himself aside from when his father would rent him out to you for hours at a time. Whether it was working on your farm with the animals or house chores, he’d groan but complete each task given to him.

This weekend would be the fourth of July, and with you being the best baker in town alongside having the largest property, you’d been given many requests to host the celebration. Naturally, James became one of those many people, “So…can I come?”

“Come to what?”

“C’mon, woman, don’t make me look a fool.” You laughed in his face, holding your steering wheel.

“Alright, you can come. Bring that lil’ perv too.” James wore a large grin on his handsome face. Not only would he be given the chance to ogle your figure for a whole night, but he’d get to witness any drama that’s likely unfold between you and your husband and get the chance--- “Yer’ on beer duty. Bring a few cases and not that Busch light shit. This is a Stella Artois household.” He did a fake salute before you took his pack of cigarettes from his hand, “Thanks, baby.”

The man watched as you peeled off towards your house, likely to have some make-up sex with your husband or preoccupy yourself before the next argument. He ran a hand through his dark hair before his attention as caught by a familiar laugh. James tucked his hands into his pockets and walked around the side of the mart. There, Sam sat on the curb with an unfamiliar person, trading back and forth a joint. “Samuel.”

The boy looked up, squinting through furrowed eyebrows. James was close to grabbing him by the collar but held back. Sam stood and wiped his hands on his shirt. “Wanna keep it?” His friend offered the joint to Sam.

“Fuck off.” He murmured before climbing into his Father’s truck. James wiped sweat off his brow and stared down his son, “Grounded. I know, I know, ok?”

“Two weeks.”

“Two weeks?! I'm nineteen!” He groaned as his father started the car and drove back home. “That’s fucked.”

“Stop swearin’! Y’know what’s fucked? You bein’ a lowlife behind the damn corner store!”

The young man watched the fields beyond the window, homes and livestock littered the lot. “There’s nothin’ to do in this fuckin’ town!”

“You watch your damn words, boy. I don’t want to hear you switchin’ at the mouth again.” He took a breath and gripped the steering wheel tighter. “We’re goin’ to the L/n’s for the fourth of July.”

“I don’t want to.” He grunted, “…yer’ gonna make me anyway so whatever.” He slammed the car door shut and made his way up the porch steps.

“Damn right I will.” Sam found his housekeys and his father paused to feel the atmosphere for a moment. “Sam?”

“Yes?” He looked over his shoulder, the screen door between the two.

“No more bullshittin’.”

It took everything within the young man not to roll his eyes, “Sure.”

James held two cases of beer and Sam carried a small box of something be refused to show his father. The two approached your house through the open front door, the scent of smoked barbeque, cigarettes, and grass filled the air. Warm toned lights lit up the inside as well as the outside of the home. The sound of a few kids playing by the far stable, their laughs and giggles were drowned out by music, adults laughing and rushing wind. The Texas sun sat low in the sky, ready to take a dip below the sky within the hour.

James placed the beers on the back porch and began greeting a few neighbors. It didn’t take long before he found you, leaning on the white fence near the grill as your husband flipped ribs. A bottle in your left hand and a lipstick-stained cigarette between your fingers.

*For your attire, reference the header photo.*

Your arms went over your husbands’ shoulders as you smirked, “Welcome, Studs.” Your eyes switched between the father in a faded, black ‘Don’t mess with Texas’ shirt and black cowboy boots and his son in something identical.

As your husband spoke to the two, exchanging pleasantries and catching up, the two were clearly distracted by your body in the form-fitting short overalls. A catholic cross rest between your breasts from a gold necklace. “…yeah.” James loosely followed what your husband was saying as his eyes switched to you every few seconds.

Dark hair cascaded over your shoulders and left eye as you spoke, “I’m gonna get another beer.” James watched as you left; The way your overalls hung open by a zipper, putting your ample cleavage on full display, made his cock twitch in his pants. The shorts hugged your wide hips and the curve of your ass, showing off your shapely legs.

You watched as a few of the older kids placed the beer he brought into the coolers and took one from the very bottom. James couldn't keep his eyes from drifting down to your exposed chest, his gaze lingering on the swell of your breasts. He imagined leaning down and burying his face in your cleavage, motorboating your tits until he couldn't breathe.

“U-uhm,” Sam stuttered as your hips switched with every strut; your ass round and distracting.

James placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, “Samuel.” For a moment, the two froze as you smiled their way. The corners of your red lips lifted as the breeze blew through the dark strands of hair. “Sam, go keep yourself busy. Don't cause trouble, ya heard?"

Sam rolled his eyes, a habit that was becoming all too common. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, trudging off with the box as his boots pressed in the soft grass. James watched Sam disappear into the crowded backyard, blending into the sea of people. He knew the sullen teenager would likely find a dark corner to hide in, probably with his headphones on, tuning out the festivities.

James stepped inside the house after he grabbed a cold beer from the cooler; he popped the cap off on the edge of the counter and took a long swig, relishing the cool liquid as it slid down his throat. James felt a stirring in his jeans as he watched you move through the crowd, greeting guests with a warm smile and a friendly word; a few unique swears left your mouth as you gossiped with a few friends.

He looked down to adjust his appearance some and in his view, a pair of dusty red cowgirl boots rest on either side of his. James turned his head up, the sweet scent of your perfume mingled with the smoky barbeque and cigarettes. “Need anythin’, Kelly?” He took another swig of his beer, his tongue darting out to lick the stray droplets from his lips.

“’M good for now, Darlin’.” He drawled; his voice low as you spoke closely. “I’ll be sure to come to you if I do.”

“Don’t hesitate. Yer’ ma’ guest after all.” He could feel his pulse quicken, sure that his erection could touch your leg if you moved any closer. You looked like a vision tonight, and he felt the urge to lap your legs up on the counter and spread you like a full course meal.

But he restrained himself. You’re in a house full of people from towns over and it’d be beyond inappropriate. He reached up and tucked a strand of dark hair behind your ear. “This hair all yours?” He wasn’t a stranger to you country girls and your love for extensions: Bigger, the better. But when it came to you, he could never tell.

“Belongs to me if I paid for it.”

“Ain’t wrong.” You smiled. “I got a request. Anything stronger than beer I could drink? I know you got a cellar.” His hand came up to rest on the counter beside your hip, caging you in slightly. The heat of his palm seeped through the thin fabric of your shorts, making your skin prickle with goosebumps. “Now, don’t lie, pretty girl.” You tapped your chin before slipping your hand into the tuck of his waistband. “Careful.” He said softly as you brought him closer to you in the room full of unassuming neighbors.

He was close enough now that you could see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes, could count the dark lashes that framed them. Close enough to see the sheen of sweat on his brow, the way his hair curled slightly at his hairline. He was a rugged, masculine sight, and you felt a sudden flush of heat between your thighs. “What kinda drink are you lookin’ to sip?”

“Whisky, neat.”

“Brown liquor?” He nods once. “Aged for how long?” He only smiled before he finished off the rest of his beer in one long swig before setting the empty bottle down on the counter with a clunk.

James reached out and took your hand, his calloused fingers intertwining with your softer ones. He gave a gentle tug, pulling you towards the side door. "Go on, sweetheart. I’m right behind.”

As you both stepped out into the warm summer evening, the sounds of cicadas and laughter weren’t far behind. James followed close behind you; his eyes glued to the gentle sway of your hips as you walked. The denim of your cutoffs hugged those beautiful curves like a second skin, and he could see the way the muscles of your ass flexed with each step. He felt a twitch in his jeans, his cock starting to stir to life stiffly.

As you descended the creaky wooden steps into the cool, dark cellar, James reached out and placed two hands on your hips, his fingers splaying across the soft denim details. He pulled you back against his chest, fitting your curves to the ridges of his body.

"Careful now," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Wouldn't want ya to trip in the dark."

“What a gentleman.” You could feel the heat radiating off him, could smell the musky scent of his skin, tinged with cigarette smoke and beer. It was intoxicating to say the least. You managed to pull yourself from him and raise a large switch. The large cellar was soon lit by rows of warm, industrial brightness. “My husband’s ‘retirement fund.”

“Well, I wanna taste of what’s his.” He said as your hands wrapped around a bottle of Sir Davis bourbon. Red nails dragged along the top of the cap as you stared up at him with Whisky colored eyes.

“James…”

From behind a shelf aisle, Sam tussled his dark hair with a joint between his fingertips. He adjusted the denim jacket over his shoulders and froze upon seeing you and his father. His face went pale, cheeks slightly pinked. “…am I in trouble?”

“What’re’ya doing in here, boy?” James asked and stepped out from behind your curves.

Sam stuttered for a moment as he slipped the joint into his pocket. “Hell, I was-” He shrugged, “Organizing.”

“Organizing? Lil’ perv, I haven’t had you organize my cellar since December.” Sam sucked his teeth after you spoke. He wasn’t sure how he ended up in here after a few hits from the joint, but he could feel the clear tension in the air. He couldn’t tell if it was directed at him or not---

“I- I didn’t know anyone else was down here.” The young man bit his lip as he tried his hardest to pull his eyes from the model of a woman that stood with a bottle of whisky in her hands. “Just needed a minute alone.”

James snapped his fingers, “Ya had ya minute---”

“Wanna see somethin’ cool?” You asked Sam with a smile. His eyes switched between his father’s annoyed expression to your alluring one. He nodded at you.

James's brows furrowed as he turned his glare onto you, his grip on your hips tightening possessively. "[Y/n]." he warned, his tone low. "Don't go gettin' any ideas about my kid. He doesn't need to be learnin' any of your tricks."

“My tricks?” You laughed and held a hand over your bosom. “Lighten up, Jameson.” You purred and turned back to Sam with a warm smile. He drew closer to the island in the middle of the cellar. “See this here, boy?” You held up the bottle for him to see. Due to the aging, the bottle’s label was worn, some parts unreadable.

“Yes, Ma’am, I do.” Sam swallowed hard, his eyes flicking between you and his Father. He could see the way James was looking at you, could feel the tension crackling in the air between you both.

You opened a drawer behind you and took a drink smoker, aged orange peels and a few pieces of wood. “[Y/n].” James growled, “Ain’t sure this is a good idea.”

“What?” You shrugged and looked at Sam, “You’ve drank before. You let ‘em drink beer.”

“That’s different.” James snapped. He could care less about his son tasting the whisky. James wanted you to himself in this cellar! How did he even get down here?

Sam watched as you smoked wood chips and the orange peel into the drink to enhance the flavors. “I’m gonna drink it, Dad.” He said sure of himself as you poured three glasses. The two watched as you raised your glass and let the amber liquor slosh around in the glass.

The scent of the alcohol was strong in their noses as they both took a glass. The strong scent burned the inside of Sam’s nose as he inhaled the orange, and cherry wood undertones. “Cheers.” You said sweetly as you held up your glass for a toast.

The three glasses came together for a crystal ‘clink’. In the light of the cellar, Sam hesitated before taking a few sips. Each one sweeter than the last. James threw back the bit of alcohol and placed the glass down. “Fuck.” He hissed and glared at you. James, thought og ushering his boy upstairs and leaving you be like a good neighbor and father, and letting things be…but you made it impossible with that smile, those chestnut-colored eyes…

An hour later, you leaned on the wooden island, maybe on your fourth glass. James slumped against the wall beside you; his eyes bleary as he tried to focus on your blurry form beside him. You were laughing, a high, tinkling sound that echoed off the stone walls and mingled with the pounding of his ears. Sam was still there to James’s dismay, his pale face flushed, and his eyes glazed over, a stupid grin plastered on his face as he listened to your chatter.

James's tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth as he tried to form words, to tell you to slow down, to be careful with his boy. But nothing came out right, his words slurring together into incoherent mumblings. He could feel a growing sense of uncertainty, a prickling at the back of his neck that told him this was a mistake, a huge fucking mistake.

He’d heard about you around the neighborhood. Before you got married, a Jezebel, a hussy, a minx, a slut--- the whole nine. He hadn’t cared too much until it came to his boy. James huffed. Well, Sam isn’t a little boy anymore. Sure, he’s nineteen but he still lives under his father’s roof. My roof. He ain’t goin’ to college anytime soon. Dammit, I’d miss him too much.

You beckoned Sam closer, the rattle of his spurs were heavy as he made his way over. You leaned close to Sam’s ear, your lips against the tanned skin while you giggled, whispering something. James tried his best to make it out but found it difficult with how loud his thoughts were. “[Y/n].” Your eyes flickered to James as your hand rest high on Sam’s thigh. Sam stared down at you with a mix of awe and fear, eyes wide.

“Yes, sir?”

“What’re’ya doin’?” He stepped closer to you; a hard rattle of his own spurs rang as he pushed you both apart.

“Showin’ him somethin’. Ain’t that right, Sam?” False innocence rang off your tongue.

Sam swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, “Y- yes, Ma’am.” There was a tremor in his voice, barely noticeable as he held your hip.

“None of that.” James grumbled and pushed you both apart. You sighed and pulled off your husband’s trucker hat before tossing it onto the island countertop.

“He’s an adult.”

“You think I dunno that?” Your head tilted dramatically as you stared deeply at the man. “Don’t say nothin’ else.” He warned, pointing a finger at your chest. Your eyes lowered down the digit before you gently kissed the tip. Perhaps you really were a whole lotta woman, too much to handle at times. “Yer’ a slut.” You smiled, taking his finger into your mouth. You left your lipstick stains along his finger, hands on your knees.

Sam’s hand tightened on your hip once more as he watched your relaxed lips along his father’s forefinger. You pulled away and took the son’s belt buckle into your hand as you pulled him towards the back of the cellar. “…Dad.” Sam said breathlessly.

“Mhh, call for yer’ daddy.”

James cleared his throat. He couldn’t deny that you referring to him as ‘daddy’ made his cock jump in his pants. But this, this is indecent. He wanted you like no other. To take you to the floor and bury himself inside of your cunt until dawn but he couldn’t do this with his son right there! He stuttered your name before he managed out, “Y/n. C’mon, now. Yer’ husband’s lookin’ for ya. I’m sure of it.” He rubbed his neck.

You didn’t move from your place as Sam rest his lips on the soft skin of your neck; Instead, you reach for his father’s shirt and pulled him closer. “Kiss me.” Sweet as Louisiana bourbon, your voice rang in his head.

He placed two hands around your head, fingers sunk into the silky strands as he kissed your red lips. He melted onto your body as his whiskey breath mingled with yours. Your back pressed against a few rows of wine as the men pushed up on you. Sam fumbled with his buckle and with a sudden touch, your hand made its way into his jeans.

James’s tongue hungrily lapped at yours, his teeth took small bites of your bottom lip, messily consuming every kiss given. His fingertips pulled at the zipper to your overalls until your breasts left the confines of the denim.

His son's whimpers and moans filled the air as your hand worked feverishly over his cock, stroking and squeezing the hard flesh until Sam was bucking wildly into your touch. “You’re adorable.” You said though gasps as his father pulled you against his body, kissing your nipples.

Sam whined as he followed your expression. His whine dissolved into a low, drawn-out moan as your thumb swiped over the sensitive head of his cock, smearing the bead of precum that had leaked from the tip.

You placed a gentle hand on the back of James’s head, fingers sinking into his dark hair. James could feel his own cock throbbing almost painfully in the confines of his jeans, the denim straining against his aching erection. You pulled your hand from Sam’s cock for a moment and instead guided his head down to your left breast. “Oh wow…” You moaned as the two suckled and flicked their tongues on your nipples. Two is better than one.

"Fuck, your tits taste so fuckin’ good," Sam moaned around a mouthful of soft, pillowy flesh. He sucked harder, his teeth sinking into the tender skin as he bucked his hips in time with the strokes of your hand on his aching cock.

James dragged his tongue over the sensitive nipple before drawing it into his mouth, suckling greedily as his hand continued to knead and squeeze the plump flesh. The sensations of their hot mouths on your tits was enough to make you pant, your focus on their identical, cerulean eyes as they stared up at your dazed expression. Your body writhed between the two as they feasted, “Fuckin’ hell~” You whined dryly as your head hit the shelf.

“Got a lighter?” Your husband asked the man beside him as he crouched in the far pasture with the crowd of people. He offered the man his lighter and watched as the tail of the fuse spark. The few people pushed back as the firework shot towards the navy-blue sky. The sound was loud as it popped red, white and blue colors in the sky. “Alright, easy enough.”

“I’ve got more in the truck.” Your husband began to follow the man to the truck bed.

“Auntie, it sounds like guns!” A kid giggled, making play guns with his small fingers.

“It does, honey.” She nodded, pulling him along.

Your husband paused in the grass, hands on his hips, “Guns. Where’s that woman?” He pushed dark hair from his eyeline and squinted as he searched the crowd for your face.

You bent over an aging barrel, your hands on Sam’s hips as you sucked and slobbered on his cock. James could hear your muffled moans vibrating around Sam's thick cock as he buried his face between your shapely ass cheeks, his tongue delving deep into your dripping cunt. The taste of your sweetness flooded his senses, the slightly salty flavor of your sweat coated his tongue as he lapped and suckled at your slick folds.

Sam groaned, his fingers tangling in your dark hair as he fucked your face with short, sharp thrusts. "Fuck me…your throat is like velvet..."

James could only growl in response, the sound muffled against your fat ass as he feasted on your pussy like a man starved. He could feel your hips rocking back against his mouth, could hear your whimpers and cries growing louder and more desperate as he brought you closer to the edge. He slapped your ass firmly and watched as it reddened under his touch. “You like that, don’t ya’, rawhide?”

You groaned; saliva pooled on the top of the barrel and down your large breasts as you gagged on Sam’s shaft. “M- mhm~”

“Got a mouthful of dick now, don’t’cha, Rawhide?” James laughed as he unbuckled his jeans, boots apart in a firm pose. His throbbing erection had created a large stain of precum in his boxers. “Good girl.” He cooed as your pussy clenched with anticipation for his thick cock.

You whined as Sam filled your throat and kept your head against his crotch. You took deep inhales as your eyes watered. “It feels so good when you choke.” His eyes fell back in his head as you turned your head to the side. “Perfect…”

James held a handful of your ass and spreads your pussy some. He admired the sopping muscle as if it were calling his name. There was no doubt that your body had every curve he desired, he didn’t have time to doubt himself: if he could last in this juicy pussy or not. “You on the pill, rawhide?” You couldn’t get a ‘yes’ out as Sam smirked, bucking into your throat like a machine. James held himself in his own fist, guiding his cockhead along the folds of your hot pussy. He gripped your hips firmly and pushed one of your legs up to keep them spread.

Fireworks popped beyond the open cellar doors. Cheers and yells found their way inside the lower storage as you lay over the barrel.

With a heated thrust, James found his way inside of your pussy. Only half of his length rest inside of you as you whimpered, clinging to the wooden barrel. James started at a gentle pace; his eyes twitched from the feel of your perfect walls around his cock. Never had you been stretched like this, his cock like a punishment and a reward as he bucked his hips into your ass. James leaned over your back, his chest pressing against your sweat-slicked skin as he growled filthy words into your ear. "This fucking pussy belongs to me now, Rawhide.”

He punctuated his dark promise with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his pelvis against your ass as he buried himself as deep as physically possible. Your fingernails dug into the wood, creating sharp cuts along the mahogany. His shaft rubbed your g-spot as his cockhead roughly bucked against your cervix. “Don’t run from this dick, baby.” Your eyelids twitched as he spoke in your ear.

He could feel your velvet walls clenching and fluttering around his pistoning shaft, gripping him so kindly as he slammed into you again and again. James knew he was getting close, could feel the telltale tightening in his heavy balls, the way they drew up close to his body as his orgasm approached.

But he couldn’t cum. He wouldn’t because he refused to let you do the same.

He slowed his brutal thrusts, his hips rolling in a deep, grinding circle against your ass as he leaned down to growl in your ear. "No, rawhide.” You whimpered, your hard nipples brushing on the cold barrel. “Ya’ don't get to cum yet, ya’ filthy mare," James sneered, his voice a low, menacing rasp. "Not until I say you can." He reached around to roughly palm your breast, pinching and twisting your nipple hard enough to make you pull from Sam’s cock and cry out. “There you go, let me hear you.” He pulled your head back with a fistful of hair, his lips on your ear.

“M- mh! James~”

“It’s what ya’ wanted, right?” Your back arched with his thrusts; your pussy clenched in a futile attempt to slow his strokes. “Relax that pussy before I spank it.” You stuttered as you nodded. Dust and old bottles rattled and clattered from the force of his fucking, the nearby shelves creaking ominously. "Look at her, son," James growled, his voice ragged, "Look at this dirty slut, getting fucked like the whore she is." He punctuated his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his pelvis against your ass and forcing a sharp cry from your lips. "Getting’ used like a goddamn fuck toy, just like she was made for."

Sam stroked himself quickly as he watched your breasts bounce, your knees buckled, and your eyes fell back into your head. “Tell ‘em what you are, rawhide.”

“I- I’mma whore.” He could see your eyes rolling back, your tongue lolling out as you took the relentless pounding. The sight of you in such a state of desperate, cock-drunk bliss only turned the two on more.

“That’s right, baby.” James could feel his own release building, his balls drawing up tight as he fucked into your dripping cunt with short, sharp jabs. He was getting close, so fucking close, but he held back, determined to deny you the orgasm you were so desperately begging for. “Stop bein’ a pervert and finish this whore off.”

“Yes, sir.” Sam stumbled forward eagerly, gripping your hair and yanking your mouth onto his throbbing cock before you even had a chance to catch your breath. He hilted himself in your throat once more, his heavy balls slapping obscenely against your chin as he started to fuck your face with brutal thrusts. “I…I’m gonna cum.” Sam gasped out, his fingers tangling almost painfully in your hair as he forced you to take him to his dark bush.

You could only gargle as James took your wrists in his hands while you bent over. “Pretty little rawhide. You wanna cum, baby?”

A few whistles were followed by an arrangement of fireworks as they exploded beautiful colors into the sky. At the front of the house, a striped flag waved in the rough wind. Your husband sat on the side porch with a cigar as he listened to the sounds of your needy whimpers and moans.

James could see the desperate, almost feral look in your eyes as you nodded frantically, your throat working around Sam's pistoning cock. He could tell you were right on the edge, teetering on the brink of the most intense orgasm of your life. The way your velvet walls clenched around his deepening shaft told him everything he needed to know - this dirty girl was fucking gagging for it, absolutely aching to be allowed to cum.

"You keep fuckin’ that whore's throat, son. Don't you dare let her catch her breath." Sam groaned in response, gripping your head tighter as he tried to best to hold out his orgasm.

In an instant, James snarled in dark triumph as he felt your pussy clench and spasm around his pistoning cock, your release overtaking you despite his orders. You squirted sprays of your sweetness onto the floor of the cellar, your knees faltered under you, leaning on the men for support. “Like a fuckin’ bunny in heat...couldn’t keep from cummin’.”

“Why do you call her ‘rawhide’?” Sam asked before taking a swig or his beer.

They sat on the porch rocking chairs as the midnight breeze came in, “She’s a hard worker.”

a/n: will be my last threesome fic for a while. They are starting to enter my dreams...anyways, I hope you enjoyed! Thank you for reading.

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