Destined to Play (5 page)

I’m thankful they leave me to wallow in my soft, smoky, vodka haze while they
continue their dancing and parading around.

When I look around the room again, I notice Jeremy, like Patrick, is only wearing a
towel low on his waist.

‘Do you think you belong to a male harem? Look at you both. You look hilarious.’

They do look absurd, but as I watch them I find myself noticing more and more how
their muscles move and how firm their bodies are. I flush at the thought of having them
in my own personal harem.

Then suddenly, they are either side of me on the lounge stealing all of the pillows.

‘What are you doing?’ I holler at them. ‘Give them back, they’re mine, you can’t,
it’s not fair.’

They think this is hysterically funny as they strip me of my pillows and I try to
retrieve them.

‘Come on, AB, you’ve been there for ages. The pillows can’t be more important to
you than us, can they? Let them go …’

And Jeremy then plants a kiss on my lips, his tongue penetrating my mouth.

I am a bit stunned that he would do such a thing in front of Patrick. I look toward
Patrick and notice the same lust in his eyes as there is in Jeremy’s.

I notice too late that they give each other a quick nod and before I know it, Patrick
has my legs and Jeremy my upper body and they carry me towards Jeremy’s bed.

‘Boys!’ I’m laughing and squirming as the heavy rain continues belting down. ‘What
are you doing?’

‘It’s only fair that you be in a towel, too. We just want to play a little.’ They toss me
lightly on the bed. Jeremy unbuttons my jeans and slides down the zip. ‘Lift her up a
little, Pat.’

He arches my back so Jeremy can slip off my jeans.

‘That’s it, sit her up.’ Jeremy lifts the shirt over my shoulders and arms.

I look straight into his eyes, questioning, unsure of what to do or how I should be
feeling. Or exactly what is going on for that matter. He then pauses and asks me quietly

‘Do you want us to stop?’

‘No.’ I slowly shift my head from side to side. I don’t want them to stop. Who in their
right mind would say no to being pleasured by two buff, virile men on a dark and stormy
night? Certainly not me! The heat in my belly immediately spreads to more sensual
areas.

He unleashes a massive grin. ‘It’s okay, GG. I know you want to play as much as we
do. We promise to give you our undivided attention. Just relax and enjoy the ride!’

‘GG?’ This is new.

‘Gorgeous Girl, of course!’

Great, my list of nicknames is growing exponentially tonight.

He then turns to Patrick. ‘You undo her bra and take her knickers off while I hold
her in position.’

I can’t quite believe this is happening and am utterly mesmerised by the hot naked
maleness surrounding me — completely tantalised by the thought of what might happen
next. Is this really happening to me? Apparently so, it seems to be my lucky night! So I
let them lay me back on the bed, fully naked, eagerly anticipating their next move, and
allow them to play with me, caress my breasts, nibble my earlobes, kiss my stomach,
share me, suck me, probe me. I close my eyes, open them, and see Jeremy sucking my
nipples. Moaning, I close my eyes again and then open them to see Patrick languidly
drawing a line with his tongue along my inner thigh. They explore parts of my body
together, then separately and then together again, each finding their own unique ways to
take me to uncontainable heights.

For many hours.

And it is spectacular.

My head is resting in Patrick’s lap, still wrapped in the towel as they engage in
some anatomy-type conversation that I am not even pretending to follow. He is stroking
my hair and fanning it out over his crossed legs as Jeremy lies sideways next to us.

Patrick lowers a spliff to my lips and I inhale lightly, looking up at him. Quite relaxing
as I’m already lying down, and happy to have a break from the intricate attention their
hands and mouths have been giving to my body. I’m floating in both body and mind.

Pat feels my forehead. ‘Lexi, you’re burning up. Are you feeling alright?’

‘Yeah, great, I think, although it does feel quite hot and stuffy in here.’

‘Not surprising.’ They laugh.

‘Let me get the thermometer,’ offers Jeremy.

‘Not necessary, J,’ I say, laughing with them. Patrick’s fingers continue to caress
my hair and it feels serene. I take a deep breath and let myself float off into a cloudy
haze. I am brought back to stark reality as Jeremy throws my legs over his shoulders,
spreads my butt cheeks and inserts the thermometer up my arse, presumably lubricated
as it has no problem sliding in. I attempt to hoist myself upwards only to be kept calmly
in place on Patrick’s lap as he pins my shoulders toward the bed.

‘Jeremy!’ I exclaim. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Taking your temperature, AB. We wouldn’t want to let anything serious happen to
you when we can take necessary precautions. We’re both nearly doctors, you know.’

‘I’m absolutely fine. Get that fucking thing out of my arse.’

‘Just hold still another minute or so. It wouldn’t be good to have mercury leak into
your sweet spot now, would it?’

His words, believable or not, ensure I don’t move a muscle until he removes the
invading object.

‘Oh yes, esteemed colleague, you are correct. Thirty-eight point five. Well
diagnosed. Lucky I have just the remedy.’

‘I do not have a temperature, Jeremy, you idiot.’ I recommence my squirming.

‘Please calm the patient, Doctor McCluskey.’

Patrick swiftly clamps my mouth shut with his thick fingers. Jeremy shifts my arms
above my shoulders, which Patrick obligingly pins to the bed with his solid football legs.

I groan without much success of creating any real noise.

What now? I think. They must be exhausted. I am.

Apparently not.

Jeremy reveals an ice bucket overflowing with ice cubes that he sits up on the bed.

He then ever so slowly works the ice over the skin on the inside of my arms, round and
round my underarm, across my chest and then repeats the sequence on the other side. My
body begins to react to the sensation of the freezing ice sliding and dripping over my
overheated body. As he reaches my breast, he circles and circles, needing new ice cubes
as they disintegrate into droplets over my burning skin. At the same time as Jeremy is
tantalising my nipples, Patrick has ice rolling languidly over my lips, teasing ice into my
mouth and playing with my tongue. My arms are numbing under the weight of his legs,
becoming useless weapons of protest. I am thirsty for the ice in my mouth so I let him
torment me until he relinquishes each cube down my throat. So focused am I on this that
I barely notice Jeremy finishing with my nipples and continuing his mission further
south, leaving a small bundle of ice jiggling around my belly button. Patrick doesn’t
allow my nipples to feel neglected for a moment and continues where Jeremy left off. I
am literally drowning in sensory stimulation. Jeremy begins thoroughly and completely
icing my vulva, sending shivers all over my body, until he eventually slides a cube
skilfully into my vagina. My back arches instantaneously at the sensation.

‘Please …’ I say breathlessly, to someone, anyone.

Jeremy slides another ice cube deeply into me. The sensation of the frozen cube
being pushed into a tunnel so hot sends my body throbbing internally as it tries to reject
the frozen, harsh invader biting into my over-sensitised flesh. Before it has the chance,
he gently coerces another ice cube along the same path, his eyes completely absorbed
with the impact his actions are having on my body.

Just as I can’t take any more of the fire and ice competing within my body, Jeremy
squeezes my legs together tightly, bound either side by his and devours my mouth in his.

As Patrick holds my head in his lap, I can feel his throbbing erection next to my skull. He
repositions himself to once again ice my surprisingly sensitive underarms before
slipping my arms out from underneath him and pinning each arm to my side, thereby
trapping the ice in position. Jeremy had ensured my mouth and southern tunnel were
inundated with ice as his body restricts and limits my movements. I feel like an inside-out igloo. The sensation of so much body heat on the outside and being trapped frozen
from within is like nothing I have ever experienced. My entire being ripples with the
sensation of freezing and burning simultaneously, ripples with uncontrollable tremors as
the heat from my body aggressively devours the ice in my oral and vaginal cavities. The
frozen intruders compete with the natural habitat they are invading as my brain becomes
numb with the sensory overload my body is experiencing.

I can’t scream. I don’t scream.

The boys don’t release me until I achieve meltdown.

When I do, Jeremy lowers himself to dramatically exhume the diluted juices he has
created, wholly and completely. Although consumed with frost, I am wet with lust and
desire and erupt volcanically.

‘See, Alex, I have told you many times only good things come from a sincere vodka
cheers. Quite an experience, wouldn’t you agree?’

I am too fervently spent to comment.

The strange thing is, I never did find out whether they had planned it that way, or the whole experience just happened during the flow of the evening …

I attempt to dislodge the salacious memory from my mind and focus on exactly what Jeremy is doing.

‘That looks very technical. What on earth are you preparing over there?’

‘Not as technical as it looks, but we may as well make it worthwhile. It’s not like we’re together very often, after all. I hope you don’t mind, I’ve opted for the Hemingway version given it is Friday afternoon. It is a little more involved than the French version and the Bohemian version is sure to set off the fire alarms.’

His explanation doesn’t help my confusion.

He ceremoniously scoops up two frosted glasses of opalescent milk and hands one to me.

I lift the glass to my nose to sniff the contents as I raise my eyebrows in suspicion. It smells heavily sweet with an anise or liquorice undertone.

‘It is the drink of Vincent van Gogh, Oscar Wilde, Ernest Hemingway.’ If this is meant to enlighten me, it fails. Before I have a chance to question him further, he makes a toast. ‘To you, Alexandra, to exploring and discovering the enlightened version of yourself. And of course, to the blossoming of your roses,’ he adds with a mischievous and knowing wink.

I may be wearing the most beautiful dress I have ever worn, feeling more glamorous than I have ever felt, but all of a sudden, we are back at uni, about to embark on some playful, boundary-breaking adventure together — again. I am as excited and apprehensive as a small child going to their first theme park and I allow myself to be swept away in the alluring, mysterious unknown of this weekend, knowing Jeremy would never do me any real harm.

And I know better, for many reasons, than to decline him at this point.

‘Skol.’

‘Slainte,’ I respond, as per our tradition of saying cheers in the language of one of the countries we have visited together. I look up directly into his eyes, before allowing the icy-cold liquid to slide smoothly down my throat, its potency striking alarmingly fast, warming my blood without delay.

‘That’s the spirit, I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me. This weekend is meant to be.’

‘What on earth was that, Jeremy?’

‘Absinthe, sweetheart, the green fairy.’

Jeremy sets his glass down and walks over to me slowly and assuredly. I can’t accurately pinpoint the look in his eyes.

‘So, Alexandra, are you ready to say goodbye now?’ I look at him quizzically.

‘We’ve only just said hello. I thought you wanted a full forty-eight hours.’ The rush of the absinthe permeates my brain as I wonder what he means.

‘It means it is time to deliver what you promised me.’ He takes my hand and strokes ever so gently beneath my palm, his fingers barely touching the skin. I take a deep breath and try to stay as calm and even as possible.

‘You mean to stay the weekend? Jeremy, you know I’ve already promised you that, it’s okay. I will still stay.’ My words sound weak and wasted in their attempt to sound conversational. Jeremy can feel my pulse start racing at his previous words as his fingers are cleverly positioned on my inner wrist. What was I thinking? Trying to fool a doctor. Trying to fool Jeremy!