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Marie gets kidnapped by the enemy .



What was wrong with me??? I was lucky I hadn't said that out loud!

"Or did you do that while you were in Vegas?"

More heat rose to my cheeks and I shivered involuntarily. My wanton lust hardened my nipples, which I didn't realize were on full display-not only was I braless under the thin tee, but my wet hair had made the fabric damp and sheer before I'd pulled it up.

Mark and Jeff had always treated me like I was one of the guys, which was great, but it was times like this I realized I wasn't. Not really. If I were, I could brag about fucking two of the most gorgeous men I'd ever seen, giving graphic detail about their gorgeous cocks and every way they came inside me. As it was, I was tongue-tied. Our university wasn't small-town Utah, but there were still things a "good-girl" didn't do. Getting double-barreled by strangers was most certainly one of those things.

"Uh, yeah. I, uh, did some shopping. Great outlet malls in Vegas. I thought I'd treat myself."

With an amazing threesome.

"Cool. Well, I'm serious about celebrating. Let us take you dancing tonight."

I pictured myself pinned between them and almost moaned.

"I'm going to have to take a raincheck. The mini-vacay means I'm behind on a couple of assignments."

That wasn't a lie, but the more pressing issue was my barely-controlled libido. I couldn't trust myself to keep my hands off of them, and there was no way I was going to ruin two of the most important relationships in my life because I was ragingly, stupid horny. They were propped on my bed like they had been a thousand times before, knees to chests with their backs against the wall, mirroring each other unconsciously. All I could see were my gladiators, their bare chests gleaming beneath the leather straps that cut across their tight muscles, tunics riding high on their thighs, exposing their thick, meaty erections.

I needed a cold shower.

I needed to be spayed.

I tried to focus on who was actually in front of me, my friends, not my lovers.

"As a matter of fact, I need to get started on those assignments. Can we talk later?"

They looked disappointed, but I needed them to leave before I molested them and made a fool out of myself. We made non-committal plans and they left.

As they passed by me again, I inhaled as deeply as I could without looking weird. They both wore my favorite cologne, and I'd often wondered if that was why it was my favorite. Certainly my gladiators had cemented its spot at #1.

Am I ever going to be able to look at another man again without seeing a gladiator?

I hoped so, because Mark and Jeff were two of my best friends. My very best friends, if I was being honest with myself. They were the reason I still lived in the dorms-their spontaneous visits were always the best part of my day, and I liked being close enough for that to happen. They always seemed to know when I needed to be forced out of isolation and when to let me be solitary, when I needed to talk and when I wanted to listen. We laughed often, but beyond that, they were perfectly happy to just let me be me, and I loved sharing in their close friendship, however peripherally. I wasn't about to screw that up by hitting on them.

I looked at the closed door, leaning my forehead against the flimsy wood, wishing I didn't like their friendship quite so much. Then I locked the door and recovered my vibrator, hoping to quench some of the excess lust that threatened to burn me up completely.

Over the next week or so, there was a direct correlation between the drop of my sex drive and the rise of my regret. No matter how often I got myself off, or how detailed the fantasy, it wasn't enough. I looked around my classes, around the quad, around the student union building and the cafeteria, searching out potential flings for relief only to realize with a sharp pang in my chest that I didn't want to just get laid-I wanted my gladiators.

I had to throw myself into studying even more than I

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