Desire_Her Two Rivals

by Ally Miller

  Her own head tilted back and, through the cover of the trees, she could indeed see the stars, quaking in time with her orgasmic shudders.

  When she came down, and Nate rose to his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Barb kept her fingers running idly through his hair, the motions affectionate and tired, after the sheer intensity of her orgasm. Catching her breath, slowly but surely, she guided him back to his feet and hooked those same fingers into his belt, drawing him closer. As she fiddled with the buckle, undoing it in a few quick motions, Barb looked up at Nate.

  “Hey, maybe I’m just horny, but…” She paused here, sliding his underpants down and pulling his cock, already hardening even before she got it in her hands, out into the cool night air. Barb nodded up the hill, toward the Hard Tack. “You got any cowboy clothes up in that old-timey saloon building up there? I’ve got this fantasy—”

  Perhaps there was a set of circumstances in which Nate would have questioned this, maybe asked for some additional details. In those circumstances, there would have been a conversation the two would have had about that. Such circumstances were definitively not the sort where Barb slid his cock into her mouth, sucking gently at his throbbing tip.

  “Ah, someone’s interested,” Barb grinned, her tongue moving a slow, rewarding circle around Nate’s shaft. “Bring Leo along? I see you blinking, you’re gonna hesitate at that? You’ve already seen him and me.”

  She was right, of course; though Nate wasn’t averse to threesomes in a general sense, let alone ones with two men, but Leo? The one man he would have to spend his days with once all this was over and Barb had gone back home?

  But through it all, bearing down on the doubts and quashing what might perhaps be Nate’s better judgment, was Barbara’s talented mouth, working at him even as he mulled it over. He was helpless, in the thrall of the pretty, pregnant woman. He placed one hand on top of her head.

  “Yeah, I think I can fix that up for you.”

  Chapter 6

  In the end, the two of them settled on spending the next day together. For Nate, if Leo could shut down the Hard Tack for a while to get laid, then surely the two of them, cumulatively, could justify doing the same.

  By the time Barb came by, he had dressed himself as she had requested— hardy, long-sleeved clothes, leather boots, the sort of thing that would make him stick out like a sore thumb in New York, but that practically served as camouflage here. Leo had even rustled up a hat, though he wore it in a distinctly self-effacing way, leaning against the counter beside the Hard Tack’s owner as the blond city woman entered and closed the door behind her.

  “Ma’am,” Leo tipped his hat, and Nate resisted the urge to slap it off of his head. He settled for rolling his eyes, even as Barb began to giggle, leaning over the counter.

  “My oh my, partner,” she said, and grinned as both men looked, almost instinctively, down her shirt at the generous heft of her breasts. “Ain’t you looking handsome today?”

  “Hi Barb,” Nate said, his words lilting and drawn out. The blond woman winked back, then stood aside and raised her hands, framing the image of the two men behind the counter, clad in their old west regalia, as though they had stepped out of an old Clint Eastwood movie. A smile, perhaps a tad amused, curled the corners of her mouth, but there was a blush to her cheeks that could not be denied. Nate could see, looking in her eyes as she looked at them, some mercurial little fantasy being fulfilled.

  “Okay. That’s perfect. Don’t move, you two.”

  She approached them slowly, as though afraid that moving too fast would unsettle the scene before her and ruin the fantasy before it could come to completion. Wordlessly, holding their gaze with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, Barbara slipped around the counter and between the two men. For a moment she stood there, expression oozing pure sex, before she reached up and plucked the hat from Leo’s head, lowering the thick-brimmed thing slowly onto her own, tilting it to an angle that was, somehow, suggestive. Putting one hand on the counter, Barb lowered herself to her knees and installed herself in the hollow space below it, looking up at Nate and Leo expectantly.

  “Well? Come here, boys,” She purred, licked her lips. Leo stepped forward first, almost immediately, being led near literally by his dick, and he was rewarded with Barb’s lips clasped around that same dick a few seconds later, the buckle of his belt dangling about his hips. Nate stood back, waiting his turn, but Barb crooked a finger, gestured to beckon him forward without taking Leo out of her mouth. As she continued to bob on his friend’s dick, Barb reached over and undid Nate’s pants, transferring her sucking mouth from Leo to him, balancing Nate on her tongue for a moment to speak up.

  “I don’t know if you closed the store up or what, boys,” she said, her words slurred by the cock in her mouth, “but I’d be quiet if I were you. Don’t want to give the game away.”

  As it transpired, both men had had the foresight to ensure the Hard Tack would be closed for now, but that didn’t stop the situation from playing out strangely to them anyway. Both Nate and Leo had spent so much time behind this very counter, serving customers or watching through the window as one or the other of them tended to the horses outside, that to receive a blowjob at it seemed unnatural, an upending of a routine that had come to define their time here. Not that either of them were complaining about this, as the beautiful pregnant blond knelt before them, stroking and sucking, switching her attentions from one to the other with a smooth, practiced grace. As she slid her mouth down one shaft, her hand wrapped around the other, masturbating the throbbing rod slickly through a lubricating sheen of saliva. Just before the latter began to feel neglected she would switch, swallowing it while jacking the other, her sense of timing unerring and perfect.

  But, for however long she knelt there, whatever the level of intensity with which Barb fellated them, she never let either man come.

  Oh, she could tell, by the throbbing of their members and the tension in their muscles, when it was about to happen, but each such signal only prompted her to back off and prolong things; a cock on the edge of orgasm could expect to be relegated to the soft touches of Barbara’s hand, while its owner gripped the counter tightly and perhaps murmured a request for more below. Barb would only ever laugh in response, the sound huffing and choked, as she sucked off the other man.

  “Do we have to carry you upstairs or what, Barb?” Leo asked, his voice strained and a tad desperate, after both had lost count of the number of times this teasing game had been played on them. ‘Come on, now!’

  “I wouldn’t mind that,” she giggled in response, and reached up with both her hands. Without needing to be told, Nate and Leo grabbed one each and, carefully, hauled the pregnant woman back to her feet, whereupon she was duly hefted bodily off of those same feet by two needy, enthusiastic men. Pregnancy had made her somewhat ungainly, but between them, Nate and Leo were able to carry the giggling, squirming woman upstairs and, for the first time, through into Nate’s bedroom, the Hard Tack’s master bedroom. A room fit for what was about to transpire.

  They began stripping Barb of her clothes before even reaching the bed, dragging down her skirt as the three of them awkwardly marched their way toward the mattress, setting the woman down only when she was fully naked. Nate descended upon her first, taking one large, pink nipple in his mouth as he guided Barb onto her back, and himself between her legs. Leo circled, predatory and interested, part watching, part looking for an opening. Barb’s legs parted automatically to the pressure of a hot, wanting male body atop her, and already hard and teased as he was, Nate slid easily inside her, up to the hilt in her tight, wet hole. Maternal hormones had turned Barb sensitive, and she gasped at the intrusion, her back arching.

  “Yee-ha!” She laughed, the sound devolving into a moan as Nate began to move within her. Hungry eyes looked to Leo as he crawled onto the bed beside her head, offering his erection to her once more. Barb opened her mouth without a second thought, and allowed the younger man to push b
etween her lips, groaning formlessly around him as Nate, her strange contradiction, her rich little cowboy with his own little ranch store, scythed his hips in fast, forceful motions. Speed borne of lust, of teasing, of a simple need to enjoy her with Leo, three friends working toward mutual pleasure.

  The two men worshiped her pregnant body, running lips and hands over the curves maternity had given her, running tickling touches across sensitive skin until the woman between them squirmed and cried out senselessly, that beautiful, heavy body wracked with orgasmic spasms. She came, and having come once, found herself deeply receptive to climax, orgasms coming quickly and plentifully as Nate played with her clit and Leo reached down to fondle her breasts. Shivering, sucking, fucked and fucking in turn, Barb closed her eyes and surrendered to the sensation of having two handsome men focusing their attentions entirely on her.

  At the first spurting heat of Nate’s climax within her, Barbara gasped and undulated her hips, her pussy squeezing down on his pulsating shaft, milking the seed from him as he grunted and pushed into her as deeply as he possibly could. Furiously, she bobbed her head on Leo’s member, running her tongue into all the sensitive places she could remember from their previous dalliance, urging him to come along with them, pleading with her big blue eyes for him to fill her mouth, let her taste it, please…

  He tipped his head back as he released, Barb’s tongue fluttering across the head of his cock as his cream spurted onto it, swallowing eagerly. For a glorious, burning moment the three of them hung in orgasm together, connected and trembling, consumed with pleasure. Releasing such tension came with a deep exhalation of breath from the trio, an almost simultaneous flop onto the bed, loose limbed and exhausted. There was silence, broken by the panting of people in satisfied exhaustion, the bed creaking as they moved, just slightly, closer to one another.

  It came to Leo first, then, that this might be the last time they got to do any such thing; Nate would have to return to the city eventually, if only temporarily, and Barb herself was only here on vacation. She would leave with the most permanence of any of them, and if they didn’t get some form of concrete contact with her before she did, she might just be gone for good. Actually opening his mouth to ask, however, was harder than he thought it would be, as though he were admitting to some difficult thing, some nascent emotional tie that, in the shadow of their first threesome, had been tenuously forged and could just as easily be broken.

  “So, I’ve been thinking,” Barb injected into that silence, stopping Leo before he could say even one word. “This place, Remlow Creek? Maybe it’s a good place to raise a kid.”

  “Why is that the first place you go after we just fucked your brains out, girl?” Nate pulled himself up onto one elbow, though not without effort, his body still tired from what they had just done. When Barb moved to reply, she did so by sitting almost completely upright, leaning in to kiss first Nate, then Leo, on the mouth, tenderness flowing from the gesture at such an intensity that, when she pulled away, both men were blushing. She kept one hand on each of the recumbent men, tousling their hair fondly.

  “Because,” she said, with the air of someone coming to a decision that would influence a large part of her life going forward. “Right now, I just can’t stop thinking about the people in it, Mister Hawke. Maybe I come back out, once I’ve, you know, stopped being pregnant.”

  Nate and Leo looked at each another, and then back to Barb. They both nodded, solemnly, the common receivers of a shared understanding.

  After all, Remlow Creek did have a habit of keeping the people who came there.

  THE END

  Bonus 4 of 30

  A Sugar Daddy’s Secret

  Description

  Emily.

  During her first gallery exhibition at a Soho studio, Emily locks eyes with a mysterious man. He radiates a sexual energy that makes her tremble with fear and drip with excitement. There’s no way she’ll be able to resist his powerful erotic charms—ripped abs, finely sculpted arms, full lips.

  And she’ll be dripping even more when he reveals that he’s willing to invest heavily in her career and their relationship.

  He only makes a few demands. What could possibly go wrong?

  Thomas.

  All his life he’s scored big in the boardroom. And the bedroom. Really big. A multi-millionaire in the financial capital of the world, Thomas is looking to invest his fortune in the career of talented young artists—especially young, attractive, curvy ones.

  When he stumbles upon a naive painter just out of art school and desperate for a break, he licks his lips, certain that he’s found the perfect victim.

  Chapter 1

  I stood in the middle of the gallery smiling, excited that my first show had come off without any problems, yet I knew everything would be decided tomorrow when the review came out in The Village Voice.

  Until then all I could do was hold my breath and hope.

  My best friend Samantha came over and put her arm around me.

  “Where’s the lucky boyfriend?” she asked.

  “Working. He just made partner so they keep him late.”

  “Have you decided whether or not you’re gonna do that nude photo shoot?

  “I don’t want to talk about that tonight. Let’s just have fun and party and—”

  “Have a threesome with some hot bearded hipsters.”

  “Ha! You would never.” Samantha was the most prim and proper of my friends. I could hardly imagine her in bed with the grungy, artistic types that used to get me so excited.

  “Don’t let the JD and the Park Slope brownstone fool you. I have a great appreciation for hipsters.”

  “Oh, really. Did you make them shower and shave?”

  “Shower, yes. Shave, no. I love that grungy smell of coffee and hand- rolled cigarettes in their beards.”

  The gallery director, Simon, rushed towards us, waving his arms.

  “Megan, darling, there’s someone who you must absolutely meet.”

  A tall, sleek, confident man strode across the room. Our eyes locked. A strange, electric shock passed through my body. No man had ever stared at me that intensely, at least no stranger. Who was he? How hadn’t I noticed him?

  He smiled, extended his hand. I stood frozen, locked on his eyes. He smirked. He knew he had me transfixed. I felt myself blushing even deeper until I finally extended my arm. His hand was almost twice as big as mine, and the roughness, the raw power it possessed sent a shiver through my body. He could crush me if he so desired. These hands were bigger than any man’s hands…and my mind started to drift… What power, what sex appeal. He must have been in his early forties. He was so well dressed, elegant and clean-shaven. The energy and vigor he exuded were those of man much younger, but his calmness and savoir-faire, made him seem older and more mature than his physicality would suggest.

  In those brief moments in which we stood there gazing into each other’s eyes, my hand clasped in his, I felt my eyes being drawn, as if by some magnetic force, to his crotch. There appeared to be a bulge, a very impressive bulge. No, it was more like a thick snake unfurling itself down his leg. My body quivered. My panties began to dampen. I felt like I would pass out right there in the gallery. Oh, how embarrassing that would be! This hulk of man would have to take me in his arms, wrap in his warm powerful embrace and hold me tighter than any man had ever held me, and rush me to the hospital. But what the hell was wrong with me? I had a boyfriend, a wonderful, successful boyfriend who had just made partner in his law firm—the kind of boyfriend that most women would kill for. He made good money and hadn’t lost his sense of playfulness. I couldn’t believe how far my mind had rushed off into the imaginary fantasy scenario with this alluring stranger. But still, I couldn’t help feeling an intense coursing through my body, tickling all my nerve endings from my brain to my pussy to my toes. Everything in my body tingled with excitement. I was dripping wet and I felt as if everyone in the gallery was looking at me, pointing, reveling in the hypnotic spell
that this man had put me under.

  “Thomas is an art dealer. He got sick of Wall Street life.”

  He must have caught me staring at his package, licking my lips lustily, imagining holding his large member in my hands, double fisting it, swirling my tongue around the head, then pumping it in and out of my mouth until he couldn’t hold it anymore and shot his huge load onto my pretty face. And I would suck every last drop from the head of the softening rod. Oh, I felt like such a whore. I wanted this man, I needed him. But it felt so wrong. It was wrong!

  “Are you going to let go of my hand?" he asked, then tilted his head and smiled.

  I hadn’t noticed that I was still holding his large, powerful hand

  “Yes, yes. Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”

  He laughed a deep, masculine belly laugh. I snuck another glance at his crotch. The snake had grown bigger, unfurled further down his leg. It wasn’t only long, but thick. I licked my lips again, felt the flood of moistness in my panties. What would this man do to me if he had me alone? The next time I masturbated he would be on my mind. I couldn’t wait to get out of the gallery and rush into James’ arms. I was a bitch in heat. I needed a good fucking tonight. I needed James to slam me up against the wall, pull my hair, smack my ass, and call me all the filthy names he could think of. I wanted to be punished for my slutty desires. Oh, God, I needed to be punished.

  He said that he wanted to meet somewhere for coffee to discuss my work. He was on the hunt for an up and coming young artist to work with. He had heard my name from some people in the industry and he had come with the sole purpose of seeing my work. He added that my latest paintings were well ahead of those of my artistic peers.

  I blushed deeply. I couldn’t believe that this man, this patron of the arts, who could probably have been chatting with any New York artist right now, offering to put his money behind their careers, was actually taking an interest in me.