Bang Up

by Jeff Strand

  "Not in my face," said Julie.

  "Gotcha," said Skip.

  "Or my hair. Nowhere above the neck."

  "Heard," said Kirk.

  "And not directly on my vagina. I'm on the pill but I don't want to take a stupid risk."

  "Understood," said Skip.

  "Actually, not on my legs where it could trickle down to my vagina." She held one hand up above her breasts and one at her waist. "Keep it between these goalposts."

  "Will do," said Kirk.

  "Okay. No more rules. Finish anytime now."

  It didn't take long. Skip came first, and from the volume of ejaculate, he'd been saving up for a few years. Julie was surprised that one scrotum could hold that much. He got it all over her stomach, and before he'd completely finished, Kirk came as well, aiming for her breasts.

  Finally both men were spent.

  "Who's going to be a gentleman and get me a towel?" she asked.

  Kirk got up off the bed and walked into the bathroom. He emerged with a fluffy blue towel—only the finest to wipe off semen, apparently—and began to clean her up.

  "I'm going to take a shower, so you don't have to get every drop," she said.

  After Kirk was done, she gave him a kiss, then gave Skip a kiss, then hopped out of bed. "Back in a few."

  * * *

  Kirk and Skip watched her go.

  "Well," said Kirk.

  "Yep," said Skip.

  They were silent for a moment.

  Kirk used the towel to wipe off his penis. Then he sat there, wondering if offering the towel to Skip was polite or creepy. He decided that he didn't want Skip to drip on his sheets, even if they'd be changed as soon as everybody left, so he handed the towel over.

  "Thanks," said Skip, wiping himself off. He handed the towel back to Kirk. Kirk thanked him.

  More silence, except for the sound of the shower.

  "She's very nice," said Skip.

  "Yes," said Kirk. "She is."

  "And she's...what's the word?"

  Kirk didn't respond.

  "I can't think of the word," said Skip.

  "I don't know what word you're trying to think of."

  "It's right on the tip of my tongue."

  "That doesn't help me."

  "Oh well."

  They listened to the shower for a while. Kirk noticed that Skip's erection was still very much intact.

  "What are your hobbies?" asked Skip.

  "What do you mean?"

  "You know. Hobbies."

  Kirk shrugged. "Movies, I guess."

  "Making them?"

  "Watching."

  "What kind?"

  "All kinds."

  "Any favorite genre?"

  "Action."

  "Good choice, good choice," said Skip, nodding his approval.

  "Thanks."

  Skip's boner still hadn't gone anywhere.

  "This was fun," said Skip.

  "Yeah."

  "Is fun. We're not done yet."

  "Nope."

  "Didn't think this was how I'd be spending my afternoon."

  "Nope."

  "What about you?"

  "What about me what?"

  "Did you think this was how you'd be spending your afternoon?"

  "You know it wasn't," said Kirk.

  Skip nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Just making conversation."

  "No problem."

  "She's very lively."

  "Yes."

  "That's not the word I was trying to think of before."

  "Okay."

  "It fits, though."

  "Yes, it does."

  "She may be the liveliest woman I've ever met," said Skip.

  "I won't argue that."

  "You should've seen her expression when you first thrust into her."

  "Let's not talk about it," said Kirk.

  "All right, all right. Your place, your rules."

  "Thanks."

  Skip's penis was finally starting to soften. He gave it a couple of tugs, seemingly unaware of what he was doing.

  "Is it going okay for you so far?" asked Skip. "Any special requests? Anything I'm doing that you'd rather I not do?"

  "Nope."

  "Nope it's not going okay? Nope you don't have any special requests? Nope I'm not doing anything you'd rather I not do?"

  "The last one."

  "But it's going okay?"

  "Yep."

  "And you don't have any special requests?"

  "Nope."

  "Are you going to ask if I have any?"

  "Nope."

  "Fair enough," said Skip.

  "I guess if I had a special request, it would be for us not to talk so much while she's gone."

  "I can respect that. I just figured that since we're both sitting naked on the bed and just finished having sex with the same lady, it might be more comfortable to make small talk than to sit here in silence."

  They sat there in silence.

  "Maybe you're right," said Kirk.

  "I didn't hog the vagina too much, did I?"

  "You said small talk."

  "Oh, sorry. You like sports?"

  "Some of them."

  "Which ones?"

  "Baseball. Hockey."

  "Good choices. Those are popular ones."

  "You?"

  "Not really," said Skip.

  "None?"

  "Bowling."

  "Watching?"

  "No, doing. Watching it is boring as shit."

  "Which sports do you watch?"

  "Does poker count as a sport?"

  "No."

  "Can we count it as one for the sake of this conversation?"

  "If we must."

  "Poker, then."

  "Okay."

  "Sorry I tried to kill you."

  "It's all right," said Kirk.

  Skip shook his head. "No, it isn't. I shouldn't be trying to kill people."

  "You really shouldn't."

  "And I see now that you're a cool guy who doesn't deserve to die. But even if you weren't a cool guy, I shouldn't have tried to kill you. It won't happen again."

  "Well, I'm glad about that."

  The water turned off in the shower.

  "Sounds like she's done," said Skip.

  "I agree."

  "Think she wanted us to join her in there?"

  "She would have said something."

  "Yeah, you're right. That's something she would do."

  "I think she needed some downtime."

  Skip nodded. "Downtime is important. You've gotta catch your breath."

  "Oh, I did think of something."

  "Something?"

  "Something you shouldn't do."

  "Let's hear it."

  "Don't touch my knee when you want to swap places."

  "Ah, yeah," said Skip. "Right after I did that I questioned if it was the right thing to have done. Got caught up in the moment. Sorry."

  "No need to apologize. It wasn't any big deal. I would've said something at the moment if it was. I'm just saying that since we're going to probably do it again in a few minutes, next time use your words instead of your hand."

  "I will. I definitely will. Communication is the key."

  Julie walked into the bedroom, naked and drying her hair with a towel. "Are you two still on the bed?"

  "Uh, yeah," said Skip.

  "I figured one of you would go get a drink or something. I didn't think you'd stay naked on the bed together. That must have been awkward."

  "We were fine," said Kirk.

  20

  I could get used to this, thought Julie, as she lay with Skip's head between her legs. Kirk was tending to her breasts and doing a bang-up job of it.

  She wished this could be a permanent arrangement. Two hot men pleasuring her on a regular basis. She'd ring a tiny bell and they'd report for duty.

  Tragically, she did not think Ralph would let two hot muscular men move into their home for the purpose of giving her orgasms on request. In fac
t, she doubted there'd be a repeat of this afternoon at all. Being here right now was dangerous enough; she simply couldn't risk it on an ongoing basis.

  Not while Ralph was around, anyway.

  She ran her fingers through Kirk's hair as he sucked on her nipple. It hadn't been very difficult to manipulate him into sharing her with Skip. Perhaps she could manipulate him into something else...?

  She wondered if Skip, lapping away, noticed that she suddenly got wetter?

  It bothered her a bit that thinking about having her husband murdered made her even hornier, but it didn't bother her enough to stop thinking about it.

  * * *

  As Kirk thrust into her, he wondered if there was going to be a downside. He had, after all, been reluctant to meet up with Julie again even before he knew that Ralph meant to have him killed.

  He'd worry about it after he came.

  * * *

  As Skip thrust into her, he wondered how he was going to explain to Ralph that he hadn't killed anybody. He supposed it wasn't too late to murder Kirk, but he'd had second thoughts even before they had so much fun together. He was the third wheel in this threesome. You didn't get invited to be the third wheel and then kill one of the other wheels.

  He'd worry about it after he came.

  * * *

  Everybody lay on the bed, completely exhausted.

  Julie noticed that Kirk and Skip both looked kind of worried. She wasn't sure why and decided not to ask.

  She also decided not to ask them to team up to kill Ralph. That wasn't appropriate subject matter for right now, and she was only about thirty percent sure she wanted it to happen anyway. She'd think about it some more. If she did ask, she'd bring up the subject while she was giving dual handjobs.

  "I should get going," she said, removing Kirk's hand from her left breast and Skip's hand from her right. "I think it goes without saying that I found this to be very rewarding."

  "I was dubious at first," Kirk admitted, "but, yeah, I had a great time. Thank you for threatening to walk out if I didn't go through with it."

  Julie gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "Oh, I was bluffing." She climbed out of bed and searched for her clothes. The men also got out of bed and everybody began to get dressed. "Make sure you pick up the right underwear."

  Everybody finished dressing in silence.

  "We should discuss what happened," said Julie. "By which I mean we should swear to never discuss what happened."

  "I'll swear to that," said Kirk.

  "Me too," said Skip.

  "I don't mean that from a shameful perspective," Julie clarified. "There are certain people who would not be happy to hear about what happened. I'm sure you saw my wedding ring," she said to Skip.

  "Yes, I did," said Skip. "I was admiring it while you were stroking me. How many karats in that thing?"

  Julie ignored the question. "So we all agree to the vow of silence?"

  They all agreed. Skip didn't seem like the kind of guy to rush out to his friends and say, "Another dude and I just banged this chick! Woo-hoo-hoo!" so she was confident that her secret would be safe.

  Now she'd just have to decide if she wanted to use the men again for sex, murder, or both.

  * * *

  "We need to talk," said Kirk, after Julie left the apartment.

  "We pinky swore that we wouldn't," said Skip.

  "Shut up. Ralph sent you over here to kill me. I'm not dead. I don't plan to be dead later today. So what are you going to tell him?"

  "That you fought me off, and that I saw true rage in your eyes, and that it frightened me to my core?"

  "No. That's stupid."

  "Well, what do you want me to say? You're the one he's trying to kill!"

  "I don't know!" said Kirk. "It's been a distracting afternoon! I haven't had a chance to think about it! But we've got to come up with something or we're both dead!"

  Skip frowned. "You think he'll try to have me killed because I didn't kill you?"

  "He might."

  "Shit."

  "Somebody who's willing to hire an assassin can't be trusted."

  "You're right, you're right. Are you still not okay with the idea of changing your identity and fleeing the country?"

  "I can't afford that."

  "Have you done any comparison shopping?"

  "It's not an option. We've just got to figure out a way to get him off my back."

  Skip furrowed his brow in deep concentration. "What if...ummm...what if...ummm...what if...ummm...ummmm...ummmmmmm...."

  "Would you be willing to kill him?" Kirk asked.

  "Me?"

  "Yes, you."

  "Uh-uh. No way. I wussed out on murdering you—I'm not just going to turn around and murder some other guy. You don't really want him to die, do you?"

  Kirk thought about it. He could certainly understand why Ralph had homicidal feelings toward him, and bore the man no ill will from that perspective. "It's less that I want him dead than that I don't want myself dead. And if he hired you, he'll hire somebody else, and that person might kill me before we fuck his wife together."

  "What if I explain to him that he misjudged you? I can say I saw kindness in your eyes."

  "He doesn't give a shit about what's in my eyes."

  "Maybe he'd compromise. Maybe if I broke all of your fingers he'd be satisfied. Maybe if I broke your dick."

  "I'm not going to let you break my fingers and dick."

  "I wouldn't expect you to," said Skip. "But if you were willing to wrap bandages around them, play-act for a while, we could let him think they were broken."

  Kirk sighed and rolled his eyes.

  "What's wrong with that idea?" asked Skip.

  "I apologize. I assumed it would be a stupid plan so my reaction came before I processed what you said. That might work! It hurts to get ten fingers and your dick broken! Hurts a lot worse than getting killed!"

  "Depends how you get killed, but yeah."

  "You can tell Ralph that I begged for mercy, swore that I'd never touch another man's wife for as long as I lived..."

  Skip grinned. "And I can say that I told you, 'You're damn right you won't touch another man's wife for as long as you live, because you're about to die!'"

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  "It doesn't sound like something you'd say."

  "Sure it does."

  "You wouldn't think of that line on the spot."

  "I did just think of it on the spot. I thought of it as soon as you said your part."

  "All right, fine," said Kirk. "You can tell him you said that."

  "I don't like that you think I'm not witty."

  "I apologize. We're getting off-topic."

  "So you begged for your life. I was all mean and cold-blooded and stuff. And you were basically on the floor sobbing, pleading for mercy, no dignity whatsoever. I mean, just completely humiliating yourself. Exposing yourself as the coward you'd always been. It was painful to watch. And I was so filled with disgust over your pathetic display that I decided it wasn't worth the effort to kill you."

  Kirk shook his head. "No."

  "What's wrong with that?"

  "Everything."

  "Be more specific."

  "I don't want him to think I was rolling around on the floor sobbing."

  "I never said you were rolling around."

  "We need to come up with something better."

  "We're completely making up a story," said Skip. "Why do you care how you're being portrayed?"

  "I just do, okay? What if he tells friends at a bar?"

  "You're worried about anonymous friends at a bar hearing a fictitious story about you?"

  "Hearing that I acted like a little bitch might not make him drop the issue," said Kirk. "He might think I need to be put out of my misery. What if you tell him that you decided death was too good for me? That having my dick broken was a fate worse than death?"

  "That could work."

  "You were about to break my neck, and it
suddenly occurred to you that I'd suffer far more if you broke my fingers and my dick. I bet he'd agree with that. I bet he'd wish he thought of it himself."

  Skip nodded. "It's perfect. This can't fail."

  "Awesome."

  "One question, though."

  "What?"

  "How do you break a dick?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, we call it a boner, but there's no actual bone. It's blood. You can't break blood."

  "If I had a boner, and you grabbed it with both hands and bent it like you were snapping a pretzel stick in half, you'd do some serious damage. It would be horrific. Way worse than death."

  "Makes sense," said Skip. "But you'd have to have a boner for it to work. Otherwise I'm just playing with your floppy dick. How would you get a boner if an assassin was in your apartment threatening to break your dick?"

  "Fear boner?" Kirk asked.

  "Are those real?"

  "I don't have experience with them, but they've got to be real for somebody. Ralph would have no way of knowing. He's not going to question the scientific merit of the boner."

  "Let's stop saying boner."

  "Why? Julie's not here."

  "It's childish."

  "You started it. No, I guess I started it. I'm used to being the one who goes off on tangents, but since your life is on the line here, I'm kind of surprised by these detours," said Skip.

  "Sorry," said Kirk. "I just had an unexpected threeway and now we're discussing my possible murder. I'm a little scatterbrained right now."

  "Me too. Do you think she enjoyed herself as much as we did? She really seemed to like it. I mean, some of those noises she was making seemed like they'd be hard to fake."

  "Here's the situation. You came over and threatened to kill me. You noticed that I got a fear erection. You then—"

  "Maybe it wasn't fear. Maybe you got turned on by the threat of death. Some crazy fetishes out there. Autoerotic asphyxiation is a real thing."

  "Let's stick to fear."

  "All right."

  "You saw the way my pants were poking out, and realized that you could give me a fate worse than death. You forced me to take off my pants, then you mercilessly broke my dick. Then you broke all ten of my fingers."

  "Would I even need to break your fingers? Wouldn't your dick be enough?"

  Kirk thought about that. "My dick might be enough, but if it's not, it would be silly to have stopped there. I mean, you're not actually breaking any bones, so I might as well wrap up my hands."