It’s almost too tight for him, however. She hears him grunt with frustration as he tries to work the broad tip in, tugging on her hips and thrusting roughly as he goes.
When he finally slides home, his gasp of relief matches her own. She feels her pussy close tightly around him, clasping at the intruder, sensation pushing outwards from her core. He’s big, very big.
Though Steve’s cock is thicker than Brett’s, and longer, too. When she finally manages to tear her attention away from the thing sliding back and forth in her pussy, she sees his cock rearing up stiffly at her, angry-looking, knotted with veins and greased with pre-come. He jabs it at her mouth blindly, and when she doesn’t get it the first time he pushes his hand into her hair and tugs her to him. The slick tip glosses her lips briefly before she parts them over that fat juicy head.
‘Oohhh yeah,’ he groans, as he surges up into her mouth. ‘Suck my cock.’
It isn’t the instruction that makes her obey. It isn’t even the pleasure of having a thick cock spread her open. Perhaps it’s their always plain tone, the same tone they use when they’re asking her if matriculation is touching yourself.
Either way, she sucks and sucks at him. She pushes back on the cock in her pussy. She supposes that she should struggle a little more, protest, but, oh, it feels so good to have them ask her if five times five equals fifty-five. It’s really a different sort of test, but it all comes out the same in the end.
‘What does her mouth feel like?’ Brett asks, and over the bend of her back his friend replies, ‘Hot. Real good. Oh yeah, she’s sucking hard on me.’
‘Her pussy feels all wet. She’s really wet. Do you like it, Lacey?’
She moans around the cock in her mouth and tries to push back on him, but he holds her hips steady as he increases the pace. It becomes obvious that she’s as wet as he claims, because she can hear her own juices giving way to the pounding he’s dealing out. They’re trickling over her over-sensitised lips, too, and down her inner thighs. Her clit feels huge – as though it’s hanging down like overripe fruit, just aching for a caress, a touch, anything.
Instead she takes as much as she can of Steve’s swelling prick, rubbing it where she can’t quite reach with her mouth, moaning when she tastes the fresh burst of pre-come. She tongues the little slit and it’s his turn to moan as he produces more liquid for her to swallow.
Can we go to the men’s room, Lacey, she thinks. Is the horizon that cellphone company?
‘She likes it,’ Brett says, in so simple and sweet a tone it makes her stomach flip and her pussy ripple around the invader. ‘Oh, she really likes it.’
‘Touch her clit, man,’ Steve says, and she feels Brett’s hands, immediately fumbling. He makes a sound as though realising how stupid he is for overlooking such a thing, and then he finds the stiff bud and rubs at it awkwardly.
‘It’s all big,’ he groans, and Steve echoes him. ‘Once I spurt, I’m gonna lick it.’
She whines helplessly to hear him talk like that, working herself back on to his cock and his hand, sucking with greater fervour on his friend’s prick.
‘Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah, she likes it when you talk like that. We’ll both lick her clit.’
‘Yeah. And finger her.’
‘Yeah. That’s it, baby, suck it.’
‘Oh, man, play with her tits. Play with them.’
She feels big hands move beneath her, and roughly grip her dangling breasts – enough to hurt a little, but not quite to please. It pleases when he finds her taut nipples and pinches lightly.
She thinks about them both trying to find the mouse at the centre of that kid’s table-mat maze, using fat red crayons. Neither of them got there – not even after their third attempt – but they get to here all right. They know how to pinch and push and fuck.
She can feel it brewing up inside her. She can feel it even before Brett says, ‘Oh yeah, that’s it, that’s it. Oh, she likes that – she’s getting real tight. I think she’s gonna come.’
And in response, her pussy clenches. Fresh warm liquid spills over his relentless cock and her clit spasms and swells. She lets the cock fall from her mouth so that she can voice the pleasure arcing through her body, gasping and crying out as he continues to massage her bud. All the sexual parts of her connect and she can hardly take it, she can hardly be anything but her hand working on a prick, her pussy filled with another, her swelling clit and her fizzing, tingling nipples.
Bliss, bliss. The mouse in the maze circled with fat red crayons.
‘Uh, I’m gonna come too, I’m gonna shoot,’ Brett says, and as she leans her face against his friend’s sweaty side, pussy still spasming with aftershocks, she feels him swell and jerk inside her. He groans long and loud, forcing wave after wave of come into her. When he finally staggers away, she feels it trickling from her gaping hole, down her thighs to mingle with her own juices.
‘Oh, so good,’ he moans.
Yes, she thinks. Yes. An octagon is the thing the President lives in.
She’s too bleary and pleasure soaked to do anything but sag in their arms as they spread her out on the rug before the fire, mouths already everywhere, Steve’s cock still pressing and rubbing any place it can find. He leaves silky trails all over before finally settling between her spread legs, but it’s too much.
She tries to sit up then, to tell him it’s too much, but Brett holds her in place with a hand on her shoulder and his mouth kissing and pulling at her nipples.
Steve works in slowly, stretching her even after that first fucking, even with his friend’s come easing the way. He pants and squirms and presses her thighs wider apart, but she still can’t take much more than three-quarters of him.
‘She’s really tight,’ he says, and Brett nods against her breasts. ‘I can hardly move.’
But he’s exaggerating, because soon he’s lifting her hips and her butt on to his meaty thighs, working in her slowly and then quicker, groaning almost constantly.
‘What does she feel like?’ Brett asks, but Steve can only choke out something that might be wet. It takes him a moment to work up to anything more, and he saves it for a demand: ‘Lick her clit. Make her come on my cock.’
Brett immediately sets to the task, parting her pussy lips already split by the thick cock of his friend, lapping gently at her distended bud.
She moans and squirms in Steve’s big hands, feeling the beginnings of another climax low down in her belly and twisting against it. But Brett’s tongue is relentless and the cock inside her thick and heavy, and soon she’s whispering for them to fuck her harder, lick and suck her more quickly, grunts of pleasure that don’t seem like her jumping out of her mouth.
Sometimes they need that extra bit of instruction. A little nudge in the right direction: if I have two orgasms, and then you give me another two to make four, what would another two on top of that make?
It makes words, deliriously filthy words, like these:
‘Go on, go on, make her come, lick her, rub her, come on, man,’ Steve groans. ‘I’m gonna burst.’
Words that force her to let it all out in one shaking breath: ‘Ohhh, yes, now.’
Her clit jumps against his tongue and she feels her pussy ripple around Steve’s prick. The orgasm swells through her, softer than before but protracted, drawn on by his never quiet mouth.
‘Yes, baby, that’s it, that’s right – oh, here it comes, baby, here it comes – ah!’
She feels him pulse once inside her before he quickly withdraws, and then she watches through slitted eyes as he pumps his thick shaft, encouraging the last spurts to cover her spread pussy. She parts her sex lips eagerly, shuddering as a lash of warm liquid covers her still twitching clit, trembling as further aftershocks go through her when a drop finds its way to his friend’s cheek.
Brett swipes it away unselfconsciously and kneels up, and equally unselfconsciously rubs his own cock, now stiff once more, through his friend’s copious spend. She watches, fascinated, as he wets the tip
of his cock with the creamy fluid, and then rubs at himself softly.
Eventually, this strange ritual seems to excite him even further, and he coats his cock in their combined juices before crawling up to her slack mouth.
‘Taste it,’ he says. ‘Taste it.’
She thinks of chemistry lessons as she turns her head to one side to let him push past her lips. Dip the litmus paper in the acid, Brett, and tell me what it shows. And then Steve, shoving his hand in the air and straining for her to pick him, pick him!
Chemistry is always fun.
It’s fun with the sweet-salt mix of them twanging against her tongue. But it’s only when she feels a wet mouth working between her legs again that her arousal goes beyond this relaxed, sinuous state, the tongue that squirms into her wet hole persuading her to use her hands and her teeth and her tongue.
Do good work, and you get a reward. Rewards always make them work harder, and for longer. Though she wonders how many times they can do this – fuck her pussy and her mouth and then lick her clean – before starting all over again.
It’s only when she feels a slick, probing finger between her liberally juiced arse cheeks that she knows just how long this could go on for.
Until every question on the pop quiz is answered. The quiz is for anatomy, and it’s called ‘Is Every Part Of Her Used?’
She sees Brett leaning to one side and knows he’s looking, and then sure enough he says, ‘Have you got a finger in her ass?’
Just as his friend slides in to the hilt. The finger goes in easily – she’s so well oiled and well used everywhere there – and in response she tries to move her mouth from the cock that is jerking against her tongue with excitement. But Brett only grabs the back of her head and holds her close to him, thrusting eagerly in and out as his friend tongues one hole and invades another.
‘Let me do her ass. Move over.’
Steve acquiesces without a word, even helping his friend oil his cock with the remaining cream that lingers all around her clit and over her belly. They’re good at teamwork, in all aspects of their life. Just watching them pat each other’s back and urge each other on is very heartening.
As is the careful way Brett presses the tip of his cock to her clenching hole, stroking her and teasing her still taut nipples when he can’t immediately work his way in. He broke a triangle when trying to play it, once, but he’s learnt this lesson well.
Even so, the initial burn is almost too much. Though more than that is Brett’s reaction once he’s sheathed inside her. He goes rigid and bucks once, cock swelling and jerking, his face a mask of ecstasy.
‘I’m coming already, man,’ he groans, and then she feels the slick spread of him. It leaks from the place where his flesh meets hers, not as copious as before but seeming so. She drowns in it. She drowns in sensation – dissolved, dissipated, lost.
So much so that she barely notices when Steve kneels over her, jerking himself to one last tense orgasm. The room glows and spins and strangely correct answers fill her head – yes yes yes to questions like ‘Does the fur of a rug feel good against bare skin?’ and ‘Is it OK to stroke you like this?’ and ‘Does it turn you on to watch a hot man jerk himself over your perspiration-glossed body?’
Brett is still soft and slick inside her ass when his friend gets there, lacing her tits and her open mouth with tiny stripes of come. They make delicious patterns on her skin.
And then, oh, then, they clean her, their tongues working into every crack and crevice before finally coming to her tender clit, lapping at it gently in unison, just as they had promised. Their fingers work inside her pussy and her ass, stroking every last drop of their come from her body, coaxing a fresh spurt of her own cream for them to taste.
She moans long and loud for them, pressing their faces to her aching cunt, giving up everything to all of these lovely questions and answers, and the games they play to make them easy.
‘Why do you have to do that?’
‘Yeah, why?’
‘Do what, my darlings?’
‘Act like you don’t like us. Do you really not like us, Lacey?’
‘We can be different. We try to do exactly like you want.’
‘And you do, you do,’ she tells them. She pets them. She kisses their still gleaming foreheads.
‘So how come you have to act like you don’t like it?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Because it’s fun, my boys. It’s more fun for me, that way.’
They both look so confused. They looked the same way the first time she instructed them in how to fuck her at the same time. How they could all play together – wouldn’t that be nice? And they do think it’s nice. They’re so boisterous when it’s game time, so suddenly clever. They tick all the right boxes and raise their hands at all the appropriate times.
Of course, Brett almost got it all wrong when he offered to take her blindfold off. Too nice, no good, bad boy! And sometimes they almost forgot when to touch what and how. But other than that, it was a very good show all round.
And if they’re sometimes confused afterwards, that’s OK too. Because they’re her big dumb tons of fun. They’ve probably forgotten whatever they were confused about before, anyway. Like goldfish, who think Iraq is in France and don’t understand it when coach says anything other than ‘Get the ball and run’.
‘What game can we play tomorrow, Lacey?’
‘Yeah, what game tomorrow? Can we do Twister, again? Please?’
‘Yeah, please?’
She strokes the soft fine hair on their heads as they look up at her with their big lunkhead cow’s eyes. So sweet and trusting, her boys. What would she ever have done if she hadn’t found them, trying to jerk off in the men’s locker-room showers, asking each other what they’d do if they finally got to have sex with a real woman.
Women can be so unkind to big stupid jocks. It’s not their fault that they have more muscles than brains. More cock than brains, too.
‘No, my darlings,’ she tells them, as they shelter her lithe little body with their big solid ones. ‘No, tomorrow we’ll play something different. Tomorrow I think we’ll try Spin The Bottle.’
It’ll take an age to explain the rules, but as today’s test has proved – oh, it will be worth it.
Yes/
TODAY, IT’S HIS turn. He knows it’s his turn, though I think he’s hiding from me. But a deal’s a deal and we pricked our thumbs and put them together and now we have to. It’s sworn in blood, too bad, bub.
But then I find him in the bathroom – just the boring old bathroom, brushing his teeth, half starkers – and giddy excitement bubbles up inside me. He isn’t hiding at all. He’s giving me his best sleepy, sultry look, over a mouthful of foam and fire-engine-red toothbrush.
He brushes the vanilla milkshake skin of his belly, his chest, just to say to me: look how hot I am. Look what a studly young body I have. Aren’t you glad I swim every day?
And I am glad. I’d be glad if he got just a little bit fat, though, and then maybe I wouldn’t have to make stupid deals with him. Though I don’t think that it’s stupid, not really. Nothing is stupid with him. And I think I’d make the deal anyway, whether he was fat or not.
I want to.
I want to so much that I stroll up behind him, and rub my groin right up against his ass. He’s only wearing these little thin pyjama bottoms, and I can almost feel his skin through them. I practically hear him swallow.
‘What are you going to ask me to do first?’ he asks, and he puts a hint of laughter and some tension in his voice, for spice.
‘Oh, I see. Worried now, are we?’
But he just shrugs in that amiable sweet way he has, and I see his face in the bathroom mirror. Always smiling and open, completely open. The only time I’ve ever seen him look serious is when we had to hide out in that old abandoned warehouse at the edge of town, just as the rain crashed down. And we had sat by a dusty window on tarpaulin, and listened to it make music on the tin roof.
&
nbsp; And he had leant in and said, ‘I love you, Lois. I love you with all of me.’
I’d never make this deal with any other guy, I swear it. I don’t think he’d make this deal with any other guy, either. But that’s a whole other set of twists and kinks.
Some of which I might explore today, my whole day, spread gloriously before me. I’ve planned it out, though, every inch of it, as I know he has his day. And yeah, it might have been cool to go spur of the moment, give it that extra kick of the sudden and unexpected.
But it’s enough that it’s going to be sudden and unexpected to him.
I bet he knows what I’m going to ask for first, however. It’s the one he’ll never do. The one he balks at. Every. Single. Goddamned. Time.
‘You’re a stranger,’ I say, and then I wait, right on the edge of my seat, for him to say the magic sworn-in-blood word.
I know he hesitates. He teeters. His tongue touches his upper teeth. So maybe we’re not there yet. Maybe we don’t trust each other enough; maybe he’s afraid. I know I am. My heart is suddenly rattling in its cage.
‘Yes,’ he says finally. ‘Yes.’
Of course, he knows my fantasy inside out. I’ve told him it enough times, when all wrapped up in each other, sticky and hot and trembling. I think it excited him, the idea, though only because I was telling him a dirty story.
Sometimes he likes me to read out a bit of the latest steamy thing I’m reading, just to get himself all worked up. And I try, for him, I do.
But until now he’s never tried this for me. It makes him nervous, I know. Once we did something like this routine in a bar, him playing the hottest guy in there, hitting on me. He couldn’t stop laughing and being his usual gawky self – it fell apart quickly.
But now it can’t fall apart. And it can’t be something small and safe. There’s no point in demanding he say yes to something if it’s small and safe and about to fall apart.
I get back into bed – all fresh and fragrant and not like I’ve just been asleep, but we’ll allow the artifice – and I snuggle right down. I’m too excited to actually snooze, but I think I do a good approximation.
The Things That Make Me Give In Page 5