by Bridy McAvoy
“I… I can’t.”
“Of course you can. Just do it.”
I pushed a bit harder and my inner lips parted too, my opening spreading to accommodate the giant invader. I pushed again and it slipped further, just the tip starting to penetrate me. By now I was panting for breath, fear sparking adrenalin which warred with the arousal at the thought of being so filled.
“Keep going, you can do this.”
I pushed again, spreading my legs as far as I could, and the head slipped in. It had a lifelike ridge behind the head and that slid past my outer lips that sealed themselves around the shaft. I groaned.
“Good?”
I nodded, almost absently, because it did feel good. I felt full, far fuller than I’d ever been and I paused, knowing I had to give my body chance to adjust to the feeling.
I pushed a little further and gasped as I felt the head fully penetrate me. I was still scared, but that fear was rapidly being overcome by the rising tide of arousal deep in my core. I felt hot enough to be on fire, smoking hot even. Shuffling my butt forward in the chair allowed me to spread my legs even wider and adjust the angle to enable easier penetration. Another inch slid in.
It was incredible, the shaft filling every part of me. I could feel the walls of my vagina gripping it, yet they were slick enough to enable me to move it. I groaned as I pushed it another inch further, I guess I’d got about half of it into me.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
I moaned, unable to articulate actual words, throwing my head back and almost screaming as I pushed it all the way in. It was the most incredible feeling I’d experienced. I think I came before I started to withdraw it, and then once more as I pushed it back into me. My butt was bouncing off the seat and I had to use one hand to hang onto the chair to make sure I didn’t topple over. My stomach was heaving and my breasts wobbling and swaying as orgasm after orgasm ripped through me. I don’t know how many times I came—maybe four, maybe even six—but after that I was spent. I slowly pulled the dildo out, dropping it to the floor, and just lay there. Mr. Bryant stared down at my pussy, and I followed the line of his gaze. I was gaping open, my muscles still pulsing slightly as I came down from that last orgasm.
“I told you you’d enjoy it.”
I wasn’t in the mood to argue, and in any case, I couldn’t, could I? That had been just about the most intense series of orgasms I’d experienced in such a short space of time. I just sat there panting, fighting to get my breathing back under control. As my heart rate slowed I lowered my legs, wincing at the way my muscles had cramped in such an obscene position. Eventually, I had my legs together and eased myself to sit upright.
“I suspect you want to clean up?”
I nodded, still not trusting my voice.
“I suggest you clean those up.” He gestured toward the vibrator on the table. “Get them nice and clean so we can put them away for next time.”
My eyes must have flared wide. For some reason the fact they were reusable hadn’t really crossed my mind. Of course they were, and if he’d enjoyed the show as much as I thought he had, then obviously I’d be repeating the performance. I glared at him, but my heart wasn’t in it.
“You can have your underwear back if you want.”
“Tha… Thank you.” I was gaining control of my voice, but it was still hard to talk as my body sloshed with so many chemicals released by the explosive chain of climaxes.
Often in our Thursday afternoon games he’d leave me naked after the first session. Sometimes, like today, he’d let me retrieve my underwear and sit around, working, half naked rather than totally naked, for the middle part of the afternoon.
Today, though, once I’d cleaned up and put my blue underwear back on, he left me alone. We worked all the way through until four, him in the office, me tidying up the stacks, and updating the computer. I waited for him to call me sometime around half-three, expecting a repeat performance, but he didn’t. He appeared in front of my desk when I wasn’t looking—I was concentrating on my computer screen—at about ten to four. He tossed me my outer clothes and suggested I might like to get dressed. We left on time, and throughout the time, except when I’d deliberately asked him to remove my panties, he’d never laid a finger on me.
* * * *
I’d driven home like a maniac, dived in the shower and then picked up my work clothes for the following day, together with the dress I was going to wear. Then, after a quick microwaved meal, I changed into the underwear I’d picked out. I’d gone for a white look, a strapless Merry Widow and stockings with a matching pair of white silk shorts-style panties. Over the top I put on a jogging set, which zipped up the front. That way I could do my hair without risking mussing it.
I arrived at the condo around seven, about an hour before my expected guests, and laid the dress on the bed. I then did my make-up and teased my hair into a bun. I wanted to look different from Friday night, but not too different. My make-up was less pronounced, more subtle too, and by about quarter to eight I was ready. Swiftly drawing the drapes in the bedroom, I grabbed my white heels from the wardrobe and placed them at the foot of the bed, but kept my trainers on.
Still wearing the joggers, I walked into the living room and made sure the sliding door was unlocked and open a couple of inches. Then I sat down and waited. I had left all my options open by my preparations. I wasn’t sending any signals by how I was dressed. There was no hint at how sexy my underwear was and, if I wanted to change, it would only take me a couple of minutes to strip the jogging suit off and pull the dress on, then slip on the heels that completed the outfit. The dress, a pure white cotton sun dress, had spaghetti straps and a floaty short skirt—sexy without being slutty. Perfect for the occasion.
At two minutes to eight I heard a car arrive on the gravel. I later found out they’d parked up the road for ten minutes, working up the nerve to actually knock on my door. I stayed quiet, listening as they approached.
“Let me do all the talking.”
“Okay, okay, I agreed that earlier…”
Both voices were clearly masculine, but both betrayed their nerves. I suppressed a giggle and just sat there as their shadows fell on the glass. One of them, the younger one, Ric, knocked.
“It’s open.”
They stepped in, the older one hanging back a little, letting his brother lead. I wondered what reception they expected—after all, I had agreed to this meeting. Maybe they were expecting me to be standing there with a shotgun loaded with bird shot. Serve them right if I had been, I guess. Ric looked me up and down and, biting his lip, nodded to himself. Obviously, the fact I was wearing a sweat top and pants sent him a signal. I hadn’t meant to do that, but couldn’t change it now. He was wrong, but didn’t know it.
“Hello, Samantha. I’m Ric.”
“I’d have never guessed.” I chuckled. “And you are Frank Junior—we’ve met before.” I smiled as we shook hands. “Can I get you guys a beer?”
They looked at each other and then both nodded. I gestured for them to sit on the couch. In those days the couch faced the kitchenette and the bedroom door. That meant they could watch me, and I could watch them too.
As I opened the fridge, Ric cleared his throat. I looked around.
“Samantha.”
“Yeah?”
“Look, um…” He paused and I could see he looked a bit red in the face. His brother, who hadn’t said a word yet, looked even more embarrassed—if that was possible. I just looked at him, waiting for him to work up the courage, or the nerve, or whatever, to say what he wanted to say. After a few seconds of embarrassed silence, he started again.
“Look, Samantha, this wasn’t exactly what we expected.”
“What did you expect?”
Ric opened his mouth to speak again, but this time his older brother put his hand on his arm and stopped him.
“I guess what my brother wanted to say was we didn’t think this would go this far.”
I closed the fridge door
, leaned back on it and crossed my arms, cocked my head to one side and waited for him to continue. There was no doubt both of them were very embarrassed about something. “Look, guys, I have no idea what you’re trying to say. You didn’t expect me to answer the door? Or, you expected me to answer it dressed in just a smile? Or were you expecting me to meet you at the door with a loaded shotgun aimed straight at your groins?”
They blanched, both of them. It was amazing to watch them act like duplicates of each other. I couldn’t place Ric’s face from Friday night, but I’d been too busy looking at and enjoying different parts of the anatomy of those guys rather than looking at their faces. He did look vaguely familiar, but that could just be the familial resemblance to their father. The older brother was more of a stranger and, although they were acting alike, they looked very different. Ric was taller and leaner than his brother—a couple of inches taller—and maybe ten pounds lighter. That’s not to say Frank Junior was fat, or even chubby—he wasn’t. Both seemed to keep themselves in reasonable shape, but neither were the body builder, muscle-bound types.
Ric eventually took up the cudgel and spoke for the pair of them.
“Look, Samantha…”
“Sammie, please.”
“Okay, Sammie. At the weekend I couldn’t wait to tell my brother about the fabulous experience I’d had on Friday night. I’d tried to get him to come out with me for a drink but he claimed he was too knackered. He didn’t believe me.”
“I guess it would have sounded far-fetched.”
“I’d recognized you, even if you didn’t recognize me. I guess later that night you were…well, rather busy. Anyway, I was ribbing this lump here about it, and telling him he should have come with me. Dad walked in and heard part of the conversation. He made me tell him more, although at that point I hadn’t told him it was you. He went mental at me, telling me I was an idiot for doing something like that, the things I might have caught from some slapper who’d been prepared to put out like that.”
I raised an eyebrow and he winced.
“He wasn’t calling you a slapper—he didn’t know it was you.”
“I’m pleased about that. He might not have a head left on his shoulders tomorrow if he had done.” I smiled. “By the way, I got the same lecture on Monday morning about sexual health. He insisted I got tested.”
“Yeah, we know. Tonight was a non-starter if you’d come back…well…unclean. I’d have spent the day getting tested instead.”
I chuckled. “Well, they do use some big ass needles.”
“I know. Sorry about that.”
I shrugged. “Not your fault. I should have known better myself—or at least made everyone wear latex overcoats.”
I watched as the two of them started to relax. We’d broken the ice conversationally and I hadn’t taken their heads off at the shoulders. “Anyway, you were saying about your father…”
“Well, that wound me up a bit, so I kinda blurted out I knew who the girl was, and that it was someone he knew. Of course, he immediately asked and I said it was you. Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, but I wasn’t thinking too straight and I knew I’d got one over on him.”
Actually, he hadn’t. He was a long way off catching up with his father if you started counting the number of times each of them had fucked me. Somehow, I didn’t let that thought cross my face, nor blush, which would have given the game away in an instant.
“For some reason that I didn’t understand he told me not to tell my sister. That made my ears prick up and I looked at my bro and he grinned, and said something stupid…”
“It wasn’t stupid… What I said was I wish I had gone along. I didn’t like the fact my brother had banged my dad’s assistant and I hadn’t had a crack at her.”
Ric continued. “Of course, at the time I didn’t know there was any bad blood between you and Sarah.”
“There isn’t, not from my point of view. I let Malcolm go long before she started dating him.”
“Well, the banter between us and Dad grew wilder and wilder. At least we were bantering, but he was getting more and more serious. In the end I gave him a stupid ultimatum. I told him either he set up tonight, although we suggested Wednesday instead of tonight, or I’d tell Sarah.”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “So you blackmailed your father into blackmailing me into putting out for the two of you tonight?”
He shook his head. “Honestly, no. I was teasing Dad. He’d seemed a bit serious for the last few weeks, and I was just trying to get him relaxed and bantering with us. I didn’t expect him to be serious about talking to you. When he came home on Monday night and said it was fixed up for eight o’clock Thursday I actually thought he was getting his own back and jerking our chains.”
“Ah, so you’re saying you didn’t want to get between my legs again…”
He flushed and I could see his brother was sitting back, letting him take the heat.
“No, not that at all.”
“So you do…?”
“Samant… Sammie. Believe me, under different circumstances I’d love to take you to bed.”
“So would I.” Frank even looked eager.
“But we would never coerce you in any way. Everything blew up out of a piece of banter between me and my brother, and then between us and our dad. There was never anything serious to it, and we certainly never expected him to set us up. I honestly believe he sent us here tonight to get our ears chewed off and spat up.”
“Luckily for the pair of you I don’t bite, then.” I turned back to the fridge, pulled out three beers and twisted the tops off. Walking back into the living area, I handed them a beer each and sat down in the chair opposite them, drawing my legs up underneath me. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” They both looked relieved I was taking it this well. Meanwhile my brain was racing at about a hundred miles an hour behind a face I kept impassive. I could see them both watching me carefully, trying to gauge my real reactions. Also trying to gauge when would be the appropriate time to bug out, I guess.
I relaxed. I no longer felt under pressure to perform. I know Frank Senior had told me that earlier, but it was nice to get it confirmed from the two men in front of me. Conversely, that lack of pressure to put out meant I felt more inclined to do so. I could feel my body reacting to those thoughts as we just sat there and sipped our beers. There was no conversation—there seemed to be little point in small talk.
After a few minutes Ric spoke up. “Look, I want you to know we would never say anything about you to Sarah. We wouldn’t have told the stuck-up cow anything, anyway—it was just a convenient way to wind up Dad.”
I smiled at him and nodded. “I take it there’s not a great deal of love lost between you?”
This time the other brother took over. “You could say that. She’s a bit high and mighty. Didn’t you two go to school together?”
I shook my head. “No, she was a couple of years ahead of me, and I guess you two were ahead of her as well. She wouldn’t have noticed me as a sophomore—too far beneath the mighty seniors.”
They both chuckled. “Anyway, Malcolm is a waste of space. How he holds his job down I don’t know, and what she sees in him…who knows.”
“I have no idea either. I kicked him to the curb after two dates.”
“I take it you never…”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Ah, pity.”
“Why?”
Ric chuckled. “If you had, you might have confirmed what we already think—that the guy has a large cock to make up for his other deficiencies.”
“Sorry, can’t help you there, but I doubt it.”
“Then we remain at a loss as to what she sees in him.”
Frank finished his beer and looked meaningfully at his brother.
Ric hurriedly drained his and rose to his feet. “Look, Sammie, thank you for being so understanding.”
It was obvious they were about to bolt.
“It’s been a pleasure to meet
you properly, and I’m sorry I opened my big fat mouth at the weekend. I should have stayed discreet and remembered the old adage.”
I walked straight into it. “Which adage?”
“A gentleman never kisses and tells.”
I laughed and shook my head. “As far as I remember, you never kissed me.”
“You know what I mean.”
I had to make a decision—my evening was going to be a bust. If I didn’t stop them leaving, I would be throwing away a chance at a threesome—a threesome my body was starting to crave. Their father had wound me up during the afternoon, and I needed that release. I guess I was also thinking that if I was right and you were about to pop the question at the weekend, then this might well be my last chance to play. I certainly had no intention of repeating my Friday night mistake again. Was I prepared to go through with it now I’d found out they were nice guys?
“Sit down, Ric.”
“What?”
“I said, sit down.”
He did, quickly. Frank stirred in his seat but stayed silent. I uncurled my legs from under me and, rising to my feet, stood there looking down at them for a few seconds then walked back to the kitchen. Once I’d twisted the tops of two more beers I returned to the sitting area and handed the bottles to them.
“Give me five minutes, please, boys. Could one of you please make sure the door is locked and the drapes closed. Up to you how many lights you have on.”
I didn’t say anything more, simply walked over to the bedroom, opened the door and walked out of their sight. As soon as I closed the door behind me I leaned against it, pressing my ear to the wood. Unfortunately, although I could hear the sudden hubbub of conversation between the two of them, I couldn’t make out the actual words. I thought I heard the sound of their palms smacking together, as if they’d just high-fived each other. I frowned, but decided to let it go.
Maybe they’d played me, or maybe my own twisted desires had led me on. In either case I was going to add another experience to my lengthening list. I unzipped the jogging top and slipped it off. Just pulling the damned thing down my arms pulled the Merry Widow down too. My breasts popped out of the top and I let out a soft curse. I didn’t bother adjusting it straightaway, but instead pushed the bottoms to my knees and sat on the bed, leaning forward to slip my shoes off.