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Buy Me Sir

Page 29

by Jade West


  It’s a crappy fucking effort. Nothing but a flicker of tongues, like two clumsy fucking teens.

  I take his hand and place it square on her tit. I hold him firm as he tries to tug away.

  “You’re going to fuck each other,” I tell them, and my voice is so fucking sharp.

  They are statue still, Dean’s hand rigid on her fucking tit as I pull her skirt up.

  I order her to take her knickers down. Her fingers are shaking as she obeys me.

  I love how she fucking obeys me.

  I slide my fingers between her thighs and rub at her clit, and she squeaks and wriggles but doesn’t stop me.

  I’m sandwiched between pussy and dick and I work them both. My own cock is pulsing, straining in my fucking pants as I watch Amy twist her tongue with his.

  Her pussy takes two of my fingers nice and easy, she gasps as I hook them deep, and Dean is squirming in my grip, his dick nice and fucking swollen as he bucks his hips for more.

  “Lie down,” I say to Amy, and she does.

  I wrestle her dress up and over her head, and Dean won’t even look at her nakedness.

  “You’re going to fuck that sweet little cunt,” I tell him and he winces. Amy has her eyes closed until I force her face to mine. “Ask him to fuck you,” I whisper.

  “But I…”

  “Ask him to fucking fuck you,” I repeat, and she shudders. “Unless you want to revise your hard limits,” I add. “Unless you want to tell me you’ve changed your mind?”

  She thinks about it. I know she’s thinking about it. I see it all over her face.

  “Have you changed your mind, Amy? Is there something you want to tell me?”

  I take Dean’s arm and urge him towards her. He moves slowly. So fucking slowly.

  “Well?” I ask Amy again. “Is there something you want to say to me, or not?”

  She tries so hard to hide the truth. It’s almost pitiful.

  Her voice is just a croak when she answers me, and I admire her bravado.

  “No,” she says. “No hard limits.”

  “Then ask him to fuck you.”

  Dean positions himself on top of her, his arms rigid as they support his weight. His cock is still nice and fucking hard. He grunts as I take it in hand and rub it against Amy’s smooth little mound.

  I rub him in her wetness and she wriggles.

  “Ask him to fuck you,” I repeat again, and there’s a sickness in my gut. A perverse sense of satisfaction as she bleats out the words I’ve been demanding.

  “Please fuck me,” she says. “Please, Dean, please fuck me.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Melissa

  My heart is pounding so fast I feel sick.

  I feel Dean’s dick against me and I hate myself for doing this. I hate myself for taking things this far.

  I know Dean’s cursing himself for ever agreeing to be a part of this train wreck, but he’s hard in Alexander’s grip and he’s in too deep to stop.

  Alexander Henley isn’t a man you feel like you can argue with.

  I’d forgotten this side of him. I’d forgotten the side that forced me to my knees and ordered me to drink his piss in Delaney’s. I’d forgotten how demanding he is.

  And he is.

  His eyes are dark and fierce, his jaw gritted as he rubs Dean’s cock against my clit and makes me squirm.

  “I know that feels fucking good,” he tells me. “Don’t fight it.”

  It does feel good. I hate how good it feels.

  I hate how things will never be the same between Dean and me ever again, even now, even if I really did call time out and tell Alexander I’d made a stupid mistake.

  I spread my legs and turn my face to the side, focusing on nothing but Alexander. This is just sex. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

  But it means everything, because it’s Dean. It’s Dean.

  Oh fuck. It’s Dean.

  I hear the wetness between my legs, and Dean’s raspy breath as Alexander keeps on rubbing. Dean’s cock is hard against my clit, and the rhythm is too much. I can’t stop wriggling. I can’t fight the urge to buck my hips and take him inside me.

  I’m going to come with my best friend’s cock against my clit and there’s nothing I can do about it.

  Not unless I want to scream time out.

  But I’ll never scream time out to Alexander Henley. Never.

  I grit my teeth. “Fuck me,” I say to Dean and he tenses. “Just fuck me.”

  He groans, and I feel like a crazy bitch. I tilt my hips to take him and pray he knows this is just one crazy night and it’s all my fault.

  His cock nudges my entrance but he doesn’t push inside. He’s straining. Fighting.

  “Do it,” I whisper. “Fuck me.”

  Alexander nips at Dean’s ear. “Tell me you want her tight little pussy.”

  Dean doesn’t say a word.

  I hook my legs around his thighs, even though it makes me die inside. I urge him on, even though neither of us wanted this.

  “Fuck her,” Alexander says again, and Dean buckles.

  “Alright,” he grunts. “I’ll fuck her. I’ll fucking fuck her.”

  I’m braced for it. Heart in my mouth as I prepare for the thrust.

  But it never comes.

  Alexander pulls Dean’s cock away before he can push inside me. He shunts him by the shoulder until Dean rolls onto his side, panting against my cheek.

  My eyes are open wide as I search Alexander’s.

  “What?” I say. “I was going to… I thought you wanted me to…”

  His eyes are dark and distant. They give me shivers.

  “You’re not going to fuck Dean,” he tells me, and my mind is spinning.

  “But…”

  He smirks as he pulls me towards him, kisses my mouth as he climbs over me.

  “You’re not going to fuck Dean,” he says to me again. “But I am.”

  I flinch as he yanks Dean’s arms behind his back and slams him hard on his front. I flinch again as he tears Dean’s jeans from his ass.

  “You want cock,” he snarls, and Dean groans for him. “You’re going to get fucking cock. I’m going to fuck you until your ass fucking bleeds for me.”

  I can hardly breathe.

  I can hardly think.

  My pussy clenches as Alexander spreads Dean’s ass cheeks and lands a gob of spit right on target. I hate how it flutters as he pushes his finger all the way in.

  Dean cries out as Alexander pushes in another.

  Alexander fucks him hard, two fingers ploughing deep, and Dean looks so vulnerable as he squirms.

  I’m open-mouthed as the man I love looks in my direction.

  “Play with yourself,” he barks. “You fucking wanted this. Show me that horny little cunt.”

  Oh God, I do it. I spread my legs for him and rub my fingers around my clit, and I hate how excited I am. Hate how desperate I am to see him fuck Dean’s ass.

  He positions himself, his weight heavy on Dean’s back as he slides his cock around Dean’s hole.

  “I like it fucking rough,” he snarls, and shoves the head inside.

  Dean cries out.

  He cries out again as Alexander thrusts all the way in.

  It’s brutal. It’s really brutal.

  My fingers feel dirty as I rub at my clit.

  Alexander fucks Dean hard enough that Dean’s face is a grimace. The bed creaks under us, the headboard thumping against the wall as he goes.

  “Your tight little ass is going to milk me fucking dry,” Alexander hisses and Dean moans for him. “Take it. Just fucking take it.”

  Dean does take it. He groans but he doesn’t protest, his asshole takes everything Alexander gives him.

  I already know what’s coming as Alexander snakes his arm around Dean’s throat.

  He holds firm, Dean’s neck straining against the chokehold, his eyes wide as he realises his air’s been cut.

  He wriggles, gasping for breath, and Alexande
r punishes his asshole for his efforts. I hear his balls slapping Dean’s skin. I hear Alexander’s strained breath as he pounds Dean’s poor virgin ass like a man possessed.

  And I love it.

  Oh God help me, I love it.

  I hate that I love it. I hate that I love the sight of Alexander’s dick in my best friend’s ass, but I do.

  My clit is throbbing and my breath is fast. I’m past caring about how disgusting this is, I just want it.

  Alexander stares at me and I stare right back, and I fuck myself with my fingers. I fuck myself as he watches me, and I love it.

  Dean gurgles and Alexander grunts.

  Dean’s eyes bulge wide as Alexander tightens his grip.

  It must hurt. It has to. It must burn like hell, and I can’t believe it when Dean starts bouncing back at him. When Dean’s hips beg for more.

  “I’m going to come in your dirty fucking asshole,” Alexander hisses. “And Amy is going to lick you fucking clean.”

  I can’t control my breathing.

  Alexander eases them to the side just enough to reach for Dean’s dick, and he’s using the choke hold as leverage, fucking his ass hard enough that Dean’s cock jerks in his palm.

  I don’t know which one of us is going to come first.

  Dean’s dick is twitching in Alexander’s hand, and Alexander’s thrusts are becoming desperate, and I’m rubbing my clit hard enough that I’m shaking.

  “Come here,” he calls, and I go there. I’m still playing with my clit as I wriggle across the bed to him.

  I kiss him as he’s fucking Dean’s ass. He sucks my tongue and I know he’s on the edge, I can feel it in his breath.

  “You’re going to take his cum in your mouth,” he grunts. “Spill a fucking drop and I’m going to make you lick it from the fucking sheets.”

  I cry out as my clit sparks, and I move. Quickly.

  I shunt down the bed and position my mouth by Alexander’s jerking hand, and I’m ready. Mouth open wide to do as I’m told.

  The disgusted part of me feels so far away. My clit is all there is.

  “Now,” Alexander snarls and I rub myself so frantically as Dean’s cum spurts in my mouth. I fight the urge to retch as it hits the back of my throat, and it’s too much when I hear Alexander grunt and come himself.

  I ride the waves with my best friend’s cum in my mouth, and it feels too good to care.

  The crazy train collides with the end of the track, and it feels wild and scary to be this unhinged.

  I hear Dean’s frantic gulps of air as Alexander lets him go. He coughs and splutters and groans as Alexander pulls his cock from his poor battered ass, and he won’t look at me.

  I’ve still got Dean’s cum in my mouth when Alexander tugs at my hair. I’m still fighting the urge to retch as he forces my face to Dean’s used ass.

  “No hard limits,” he hisses, and my stomach lurches. “Lick it up.”

  Dean’s asshole is glistening with Alexander’s cum.

  It dribbles down his ass crack like syrup.

  “Lick it up,” Alexander says again, and his eyes are fierce on mine.

  I won’t disappoint him.

  I never want to disappoint him. No matter what.

  I take a breath, I smile at him.

  And then I lick it up.

  Every last drop.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Melissa

  I lose all sense of time in that hotel room. I lose all sense of myself as Alexander goes in for round two and rubs his cum-slick dick against Dean’s until they’re both hard again.

  I’m like a ghost of my old self as Alexander pins Dean on his back, hoists his legs up high and slides his cock right back inside Dean’s poor ass.

  Dean doesn’t grimace this time. His grunts are full of want, not pain.

  He kisses Alexander right back, like I’m not even there, and this is it, right here in front of me.

  The Alexander Henley effect.

  I play with myself because I want to this time, not because Alexander tells me to. It’s all for me as I rub my clit until I shudder and stifle my moans on the bedsheets so Dean won’t realise how disgusting I really am.

  I don’t think he’d notice anyway. His world is full of Alexander Henley.

  He doesn’t fight when the hand clamps around his throat, doesn’t struggle as he chokes for the man I love.

  He comes when Alexander does, spurting thick streams against Alexander’s stomach under the pressure of the thrusts.

  Dean’s eyes are glazed for a long time as he comes down.

  I feel so cold inside as he sobers up from this madness and realises what the fuck just went down.

  He tugs up his jeans as Alexander watches him, and I cringe as he makes his excuses, says he’s got to leave now.

  “Not so fast,” Alexander says and points at the smear on his stomach.

  My eyes are watering with the need to retch as Dean licks him clean. I look away as Dean takes Alexander’s dick into his mouth and sucks him until there’s nothing left to take.

  And then Alexander lets him go.

  Dean barely even says goodbye, just limps from the room with his shirt still unbuttoned, shooting me a wild-eyed glance as he goes.

  I flinch as the door closes behind him, collapsing onto the bed as my mind spins with all this.

  Alexander pours me another wine and I take it with shaky fingers. I down it in one, even though it tastes rancid.

  “I guess Dean’s not one for small talk.” His voice is laced with black humour, and that gives me shivers too.

  “I guess not,” I whisper, and my cheeks are burning.

  I’m surprised when he pours himself another whisky. I’m itching to get out of here, desperate to be just about anywhere besides the place I almost took my best friend’s dick.

  “How do you know him?” Alexander asks, and I bolt upright.

  “What?”

  He smirks. “How do you know him? Don’t even think about lying to me, Amy.” His eyes are so dark. “I hate it when people lie to me.”

  My whole body is burning. The urge to crumble and confess everything is a dam waiting to burst, but I can’t.

  The quiet anger in his stare tells me that I can’t.

  I’m surprised my brain isn’t too addled to think my way out of this as I swim through my options.

  “It was supposed to be a surprise…” I tell him. “I’m sorry… I just…”

  “You paid him?”

  I shake my head, because I don’t think I could pull off that lie even if I wanted to. “We were friends at school. I know he… likes men…”

  “So you called him up and said Hey, Dean, how about taking my boyfriend’s cock in your ass this weekend? Is that how it went?”

  Boyfriend.

  “Something like that.”

  “And what the hell makes you think I can’t find a man for myself?”

  “That isn’t what I think!”

  He comes closer, my stomach lurches as he climbs onto the bed alongside me. “So, enlighten me, Amy. What do you think?”

  I shake my head as the tears prick. “I wanted to do it for you. You do so much for me… and I… I wanted to make you happy…”

  “Make me happy by setting up an old school pal to take my dick in his ass?”

  I shrug. “Oh God, Alexander, I don’t know! I wasn’t thinking straight! It was…”

  “Stupid,” I tell her. “Reckless to think I wouldn’t fucking notice. Believe me, Amy, I notice everything.”

  But he doesn’t.

  I shiver at the thought of him ever finding out about all my lies. I shiver at the stupid idea I ever thought I could confess my real identity and still have him at the end of it.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him, and I am. “Please forgive me.”

  “I’ve already forgiven you,” he says. “If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  The relief washes over me so hard my head spins. “Thank God,�
�� I say, and my hand is to my heart as it begins to calm.

  It takes me by surprise when his fingers land on my throat, steals my breath as he flattens me to my back and brushes my lips with his.

  His voice is cold. Harsh.

  “I don’t like being played, Amy. Don’t ever fucking do it again.”

  “I won’t,” I whisper, and he kisses me. His fingers stay loose, and I keep breathing, even though my insides are burning up.

  “You played a dangerous game,” he tells me, and I could cry. He doesn’t know the half of it.

  He rolls onto his back with his arm under his head, and if he’s still angry he doesn’t show it. The room feels bitter cold now, and I know it’s probably just my own shock, but I pull the covers over myself and drape them over him too. He doesn’t pull away as I lay my head on his chest.

  I love listening to his heartbeat.

  It’s so much calmer than mine.

  “That could have gone badly,” he says, as if I don’t already know that.

  I nod anyway. “I’m sorry.”

  “We’re done with sorry. I’m trying tell you something.” It feels like heaven as his hand wraps around my waist under the covers. “I think you need to know.”

  My voice is so timid. “Need to know what?”

  “Why I have such a… reaction to wanting men.”

  “You don’t have to…” I begin, but he shakes his head.

  “Just listen,” he says, and I do.

  Alexander

  My throat is dry as I opt to tell this sad fucking tale.

  I can’t say it’s a pleasant confession. The last time I told this story it cost me my marriage – the final dying scraps of the sham it was anyway.

  I’d made a note to myself in the aftermath – never fucking talk about it. But I’m drawing a line through that now.

  “My parents are pieces of shit,” I tell her. “I used to feel sorry for my mother, putting up with all my father’s fucking crap all the time. The women, the late nights, the work meetings that ran on until the early hours most days. I thought she was naive. I thought she turned a blind eye to all his seedy outlets because she was scared of losing him. I thought that’s why she drank herself into oblivion every fucking evening before I’d even finished my dinner.”

 

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