by Megan Hart
“You like that?” Her voice is throaty and pleased.
“Yes, baby, I like that.” Guys don’t just like to watch. They like to listen, too.
“Good. You want me to lick that sweet pussy?”
“Oh, yes,” I purr, lifting my cunt up to prove I’m telling the truth. “Lick me.”
Barbie slides her hands under my ass and settles between my legs. I close my eyes, waiting, and a moment later I’m rewarded by the flat of her tongue on my clit. It feels good. I let out a groan and pump my hips. Barbie licks me with slow, smooth strokes, keeping the sort of steady pace only another woman truly understands.
I turn to look at Joe. Candy’s still between his legs, though she appears to have found a pace he likes better. He pets her hair every so often, almost absentmindedly.
Maybe he’ll want to fuck us, and maybe he won’t, but for now I lay back and enjoy Barbie eating my cunt. She’s an expert, using her tongue and lips and fingers in ways guaranteed to make me writhe and moan. I do, loudly, giving in to the urge to make noise as my pleasure grows.
“Don’t let her come.” Joe’s command makes Barbie pause.
I let out a little whimper of protest. My nipples are diamond-hard, my pussy slick with Barbie’s saliva and my own juices. She’s got three fingers up my snatch and her thumb against my asshole, and one or two more flutters of her tongue would have had me going over.
Still, he’s the one in charge and though I shudder when Barbie pulls her fingers out of me, I don’t come. She leans down to kiss me again. I taste myself on her mouth, underlaid with the faint remaining taste of cherry.
When I look over at Joe, I see Candy’s sitting up. Her hand moves along his cock, offering me a tempting glimpse of skin as she jacks him. Her shirt’s askew and her hair’s a mess, but she’s looking up at him adoringly. It could be an act, but if it is, she’s perfected it.
“Come here.” Joe points to Barbie. When she obeys, he takes the hand she’d had up my cunt, and he sucks her fingers, one by one.
The sight hits me like a two-by-four to the back of the head. It’s seriously the hottest thing I’ve ever seen a guy do, paying for my company or not. Barbie seems to like it, too, because her breath eases out of her with a little groan I recognize as real.
Joe leans forward with her fingers still in his mouth and Candy’s hand still jacking his prick. He puts his hand between Barbie’s legs. I can see his arm moving as he rubs her. She spreads her legs and puts a hand on his shoulder for support. Her skirt rides up, and Candy gives it some help, pushing the tight fabric higher until Barbie’s cute pink panties show.
Nothing about Joe is fast. His hand moves, up, down, against Barbie. When I see her thighs shake a little my cunt clenches. He’s turning her on. We can pretend a lot of things, but some of our body’s reactions can never be faked. I’ve felt that little quiver in the sweetness of her groin enough times to know when someone’s getting her off.
From her place on the floor, Candy leans over to kiss Barbie’s leg. Candy’s got her fingers down the front of her thong, her other hand still moving on Joe’s dick. They’re quite a picture over there, the three of them. Once again, where does the fourth person go?
I can’t see Joe’s face, but I can watch his hand stroke, stroke, stroke between Barbie’s legs. She’s leaning harder on his shoulder now, her head tipped forward so her blond hair hangs down. Her hips are moving. Candy’s mouth is tracing patterns on Barbie’s thigh, her hand moving faster on her cunt. I’ve got my hand clenched between my thighs, but I’m not rubbing myself. I’m gripping my fist with my thigh muscles, timing each clutch and release to the quickening beat of my heart. I can’t come this way, but fuck, do I want to.
Joe lets Barbie’s fingers slide out of his mouth. “Take off your panties.”
To Candy, he says, “You, too.”
So far, I’m the only one naked. I sit on the edge of the bed, watching. Candy stands and shucks off her thong while Barbie shimmies out of her panties.
“Kiss her.”
Joe sits back in his chair, watching, as Candy and Barbie turn to each other. Candy’s too eager and wants to force the kiss. Barbie has more patience than I would. She waits until Candy’s calmed a little bit, then kisses her sensually. Open mouths, probing tongues. Roaming hands. Joe seems to be enjoying it. When he sees me looking, he crooks a finger. He pushes off his pants and socks while I walk over to him, so by the time I get there, he’s naked.
He’s got a nice cock. I measure it with my eyes. Length and girth, very nice. I can’t tell much more, because of the condom Candy was smart enough to put on him. The fluff of hair around the base is thick and darker than the hair on his head and body, but looks well-groomed.
I take the hand he holds out to me. He pulls me gently onto his lap, where I sit perched on one knee. My pussy must be wet against his leg, and I wonder if that excites him, to know that Barbie got me so aroused.
“Put your hand on my cock, Kitten.” He says my name like it amuses him. Hell, it amuses me, too. I do as he says, feeling his heat through the latex. His cock pulses a bit in my fingers.
Together, we watch Barbie and Candy kissing. Joe’s hand moves around in front of me. He circles my clit with the tip of his finger. I’m already set on fire from Barbie’s excellent cunt-eating, so Joe’s touch makes me push my pussy into his hand.
“Sit still.”
It’s hard to do that when he keeps rubbing my button. “Slower,” he says when my hand starts moving faster on his erection.
“Candy, I think I’d like to see you lick Barbie’s pussy.”
The three of us let out a little gasp/sigh/moan at that. I’ll say one thing for Joe, he knows how to orchestrate this. I’ve been with guys who barely know what to do with one girl, much less three. Or guys who get so turned on watching us go at it, they shoot their loads right away. Or even guys who get pissed off when they feel they’re not getting enough attention.
Not Joe, though. He’s stroking my clit so nicely I’m jittering on the edge of coming, and his cock shows no sign of getting soft or shooting off. Candy’s on her knees in front of Barbie, spreading her pussy and lapping away at it with more enthusiasm than skill, but like I said, Barbie’s got more patience than I. She tilts her hips against Candy’s mouth, cooing encouragement. One hand goes to Candy’s head, guiding her, while the other twists and twirls her nipples to tight little peaks just begging to be sucked.
“Are you going to come?” Joe’s words startle me a little and I have to swallow hard before I can answer.
“I…I think so.”
He stops and puts his hand flat over my pussy, pressing my clit with the heel of his hand. “Do you usually come with your gentlemen?”
I laugh at that, more at his use of the term gentlemen than anything else. The motion of my laughter rocks me against his hand, and I give a little gasp. “Sometimes.”
“If they pay you enough?”
Candy’s still going to town, but Barbie turns her head to look over at us.
“That helps.”
“Tell me,” Joe says. “Have I paid you enough?”
Barbie answers before I can. “Yeah, Joe. I think so.”
She looks at me, and I look at her. We share a smile. I love working with Barbie. I wish it were me lapping her sweet honey instead of Candy, who doesn’t really like girls all that much. Joe presses my cunt and I shift on his knee.
“Get on the bed. Candy, on your back. Barbie and Kitten, on your hands and knees.”
We manage to arrange this somewhat awkward position with a minimum of giggling and shifting. When we’re done, Candy’s spread on her back while Barbie and I, our asses in the air and our feet hanging over the bed’s edge, are half-straddling her, facing her pussy. We give each other a look. This is definitely something I’ve never done before, but I can’t wait to see what he tells us to do next.
My cunt feels soft and open. Slick. My clit’s a hard, tight bump, aching to be touched. I wait. I have
a feeling this is going to be good.
Candy’s breath caresses my pussy and thighs. I consider hers. She’s shaved her pubic hair into a heart. Cute. I might not like Candy as much as I like Barbie, but I’ll admit she’s been good to work with tonight.
Joe’s hand weighs on my lower back. I look at Barbie, who’s grinning widely. If I turn my head a tiny bit more, I can see that Joe’s between us, his hand just above her ass, too.
I turn my neck harder to look at his face. He’s looking at us like he’s solving a mystery in one of the books he’s paying us to discuss. His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and for a second a shiver of unease goes through me. He doesn’t exactly look like a man who’s getting his rocks off, even though his jutting prick makes no mystery of his arousal.
I’ve only been in a situation that went bad once, and when it did, it went really bad. Blood and hospital stay bad. Later, I found out the guy who assaulted me had made a habit of it. He’d killed the girl after me. He’d looked a little bit like Joe does now.
I tense, and he looks at me. His hands smoothes over my ass. I must look scared because he shakes his head the tiniest bit. His palm strokes my skin like he’s soothing what I’ve become, a skittish Kitten.
“Shhh,” he whispers.
Barbie knows what happened to me. She’s turning to look at him, too, and I see her face go dark. Barbie can kick a fucker’s ass, if she has to. But Joe shushes her, too, and we’re both staring at each other. My heart’s beating hard. Sweat cools, and I shiver.
Candy shifts likes she’s bored. The motion breaks the spell. Joe’s hands are moving over my skin, and Barbie’s.
“Lick each other,” he says.
Two mouths dip into Candy’s heart-shaved pussy. Barbie and I take turns licking her, kissing in between. Tongues twist like snakes, in each other’s mouths and in her cunt. She goes back and forth between the two of us, fluttering and lapping at us.
Barbie grunts beside me, then sighs. She tips her ass higher. Joe’s fucking her. His hand grips her hip, while the fingers of his other hand slip into me from behind. I’ve got a tongue on my clit and her fingers up my cunt. I rock with it, licking and sucking Candy from above. I take a break to nibble and kiss her belly and thighs while Barbie puts her expertise to work. Pretty soon, Candy’s hips are lifting. Her pussy’s open and wet. Her clit’s a pretty shade of pink, peeking out from the tiny tuft of pubes at the base of the heart. I flick it with my tongue and she cries out. I can see it move as her orgasm starts. I love watching women come. I love the way their bodies move, all trembling and shuddering. If I had my fingers inside her, I’d feel her cunt bearing down on them with each spasm. I feel it start to echo inside my own pussy just as Joe fills me with his cock.
It takes more room than his fingers had, and I make almost the identical sound that Barbie did when he pushed inside her. Shit, it feels good. He fucks me slowly, then faster.
Candy’s flailing all over the place and Barbie and I are pinning her down. She’s making these little high-pitched squeals, and selfishly, I wish she’d finish coming so she can get back to licking me.
I’m close. Every stroke of Joe’s cock inside me urges me toward the edge of an orgasm I know is going to blow my fucking mind. It’s a rare thing, one I’m tempted to believe isn’t even really true but the product of some male-oriented fantasy of pleasing three women at once, except there’s no denying the push and pull of my cunt and ass as my body prepares to explode.
It’s the noise he makes that sends me over at last. He grunts once, low in his throat and thrusts so deep I shout. Climax tears me apart so far and so hard I can’t believe I’ll ever do anything but come forever.
His thrusts ease as I shake and quake. He pulls another, smaller orgasm out of me by changing the angle just enough to rub my G-spot. Candy makes a muffled noise of surprise. I try to breathe and can’t.
When he pulls out, I collapse alongside Candy. We both watch while Joe moves back to Barbie and fucks her so hard she lets out a hoarse, fierce shout. I’m not sure she came until her eyes open and she looks dazed, like she can’t believe it really happened, either.
Joe finishes a moment after that. He’s got a good come-face. Not too twisted or ridiculous, but then again, I’m looking at it through the haze of post-orgasmic bliss. He pauses, panting, only briefly, before he pulls out and Barbie joins me and Candy in a pile on the bed.
“Ladies,” Joe says from the doorway. How did he get dressed so fast? “It’s been a pleasure.”
Then he’s gone, and none of us quite know what to say. Things like this happen in porno movies all the time, but I never believed it would happen to me. Maybe, I think, still dazed, it hasn’t. Maybe it’s all just a story.
A book.
A mystery.
I was off the bench before I realized it, taking two steps away from him. What did I say? That I didn’t believe him? That I couldn’t?
He gave me a look as though challenging me to deny his story, but I couldn’t say anything. If I chose not to believe this, would I have to admit the others had been lies, too? If I accepted this one as truth, what did that mean?
I knew much about Joe, but in the end, I couldn’t be sure I knew anything about him at all. When I spoke, I couldn’t keep the triumph out of my voice no matter how much I wished I didn’t feel it.
“Do you want me to say I told you so?”
A tiny smile tipped the corners of his mouth. “Do you want to say it?”
“No.” I gave him an honest answer. I’d come here today to end this on my terms, not Joe’s.
Pride is a nasty creature, but I had no illusions it was anything else that had brought me back to that bench. Joe had broken the rules by taking Priscilla to our place. He’d mingled real life with the fantasy one we’d been sharing. I didn’t pretend to know his reasons for it, but I wasn’t about to let him be the one to finish it. Not like that.
“No?” He cocked his head, his smile growing wider. “You’re sure?”
“Is that what you want?” Confident in my superiority, I couldn’t help sounding smug. “To say I knew you couldn’t do it? I knew you’d never make it last?”
Joe studied me. Despite the smile, his expression was unreadable. For the first time since he’d sat, I noticed he was wearing the tie he knew I liked.
“Fine,” I said coldly. “I told you so, Joe. I knew you’d never be able to make it last. I knew you’d never be able to be faithful. But that doesn’t matter anymore, because this is over. It’s done. I’m not coming back here anymore.”
He nodded throughout my mini-rant, which only annoyed me.
“No more stories,” I finished, almost sneering. My throat had gone tight with tears I swallowed. There was too much emotion here, things I didn’t want to face. Guilt not the least, but other, far more tangled threads of desire and affection I wanted to make go away.
“No more stories,” Joe said.
His calm reaction stole some of my thunder. I brushed hair from my face and straightened, unwillingly grateful that he was allowing me to have my say and letting me have what I wanted. To be the one finishing it.
“Good luck, Joe.”
“Thanks, Sadie.” He stood, facing me. “I’ll need it.”
I felt the question on my face but it didn’t escape my lips.
Joe, however, seemed to understand me without my needing to speak. He put his hands in his pockets in a gesture I was shamed to find so familiar.
I’d sounded smug. He looked triumphant. He leaned in close, lowering his voice as though he meant to tell me a secret, one more serious and titillating than any of the others. I knew before he said a word that he wasn’t going to let me be the one to finish this, after all. I wanted to slap him, angry at him but furious with myself for giving him the chance to end this, whatever it had been, on his terms. Yet all I could do was listen while he made that true.
“I asked her to marry me, Sadie. And she said yes.”
What had been lie
s? What had been truth? And in the end, did it matter?
In Joe’s stories he’d played the parts of prince and villain with equal skill…but I’d never been one of his stories. Would I become one? A secret story, kept to himself? Or had he already told Priscilla about our lunches and the stories shared? I guessed I’d never know.
There were no more chapters to this novel; Joe had written “The End” and there was no point in hoping for an epilogue. The story was over.
Chapter
15
November
I didn’t know what to do with myself the first Friday in November. None of my clothes fit, my hair refused to curl, my mascara clumped. The air had the bite of snow and I couldn’t find my gloves. My car smelled like onions. The universe was conspiring against me, the holiday atmosphere in my office suffocating, my body rebelling and demanding to be fed on a day I didn’t want to go to lunch.
I went out anyway. There are some things not even will-power can control, and my hunger was making me nauseous and grouchy. I avoided the atrium and the park. That entire side of town, in fact. I went to the mall, meaning to grab a quick bite at a small sandwich café and maybe treat myself to retail therapy. Adam had banned Christmas from our house years ago, saying he hated the pomp and circumstance of celebrating a holiday he didn’t believe, but I had family and colleagues who still expected gifts.
The mall was crowded, not unexpectedly. I gave up the idea of trying to shop after buying only one gift, a picture frame for my mother. Jostled and bustled, I finally got in line at the café, placed my order, took my latte and looked for a place to sit. Spotting a table near the back, I headed for it. I wasn’t quite fast enough. A pair of lunching ladies had apparently decided not to frequent their usual hoitytoity habitats and were slumming in the sandwich shop. They got to the table first, their cloud of perfume heady and expensive. I wanted to sneeze but didn’t even have the chance to do that before I was bumped from behind by someone pushing out of his seat. My bag hit the ground.
Someone bent to pick it up before I had a chance. Our hands touched. He let the bag go as I stood, clutching it.