by Selena Kitt
“I want you to pound me,” Ronnie begged him. “Will you fuck me from behind? Fuck me good and hard?”
I heard him groan in response, heard the bed springs squeaking as they moved and shifted on the bed. I saw the expanse of Ronnie’s back, the wings of her tawny shoulder blades as she pressed her cheek to the mattress. They had shifted over on our queen-sized bed, in my line of sight now. I couldn’t see him, or, at least, not much of him. But I could see his cock.
And Jesus holy jumped up Christ, what a cock it was!
I’d never seen one so big, at least not outside of porn. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was actually a full foot long. He slapped it against Ronnie’s perfect, rounded ass as she wiggled back toward him and sighed.
“Put it in slow,” she warned, eyes scrunched closed, nose wrinkled as he started sliding inside her from behind. She gave a low moan, biting her lip as he moved in deeper. My God, it just went on and on. He thrust forward, hands on her hips, sliding inch by inch into her sweet little pink pussy. I knew how tight she was, but I knew how much she could take too. I’d had two fingers in there, and had stretched her once to accommodate my whole fist. She loved being pushed like that.
“Oh fuck, Vince, your cock is so goooood!” Ronnie moaned and arched her back, her little breasts brushing the covers. Her nipples were hard and my mouth watered. I wanted to suck them. I was horrified by my own response. My pussy ached and throbbed as I watched my girlfriend—and what else could I call the girl I had regularly sex with but my girlfriend?—get fucked by a man.
God help me, I wanted to join them.
What was wrong with me?
“Okay?” he asked, checking in with her. He wasn’t all the way in, but almost. He could get deeper at that angle, I knew. Ronnie loved it deep.
“Yes!” she gasped. “Oh do it, baby. Fuck me!”
I took a step back from the door as they started to really go at it. Ronnie moaned and arched and begged him for more, while Vince pounded her from behind. And I watched. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the scene, in spite of the horrible twist in my stomach. I was so turned on it was shameful.
I watched Ronnie slide a hand between her own legs, petting his heavy, swinging balls before starting to rub her little clit. Good girl, I thought, licking my lips. I could almost taste her. I knew exactly what it was like to have that pussy mashed against my face, her clit sucked into my mouth, my tongue working that sensitive nub back and forth until she came. Sometimes I could get her to squirt, if I fucked her with a toy or used my fingers deep inside.
“Ohhhh God! Yes! Yes!” Ronnie moaned, her hand working furiously between her thighs. She was so beautiful it hurt, her dark hair spread out all over the bed, back arched, pale ass up high, taking that giant cock again and again. Her ass was pale, her limbs tanned. She had a sexy tan line from her bikini that I loved to trace with my tongue. I bit my lip to keep from moaning, sliding a hand over the crotch of my jeans. My pussy ached, even while my heart was hurting. How was that possible?
“Oh! Oh! Make me come!” Ronnie’s voice rose to that sweet little wail she made when she was close. So close. “Ohhhh fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Coming! Ohhhh!”
I’d seen and heard her come a thousand times, but I’d never been so enthralled with her pleasure as I was now. Her body shuddered and twitched, face tensing, eyes closed tight, and then releasing. Her brow unknitted, hands unfurling, toes uncurling. Her little wail turned to soft kitten cries.
But Vince wasn’t done yet.
“I want to come in your mouth,” he said. “Come on, suck it. Taste yourself on my cock.”
I told myself to walk away, to just walk away. I could take my car and just drive for an hour. Decide what in the hell I wanted to do about this—if anything. Or I could bust into the room. That was also an option, I supposed. Fling open the door, be all angry and confrontational.
But what good would that do?
Besides, Ronnie was sucking him now, and it was impossible not to watch. He laid back on my pillow, holding his monster member in his fist as she worked her mouth up and down. We both loved sucking cock. Ronnie loved coming with a life-like dildo in her mouth, a strap-on in her pussy and my finger slipped into her ass. She’d even said once how much she missed cum. Tasting it, swallowing it, playing with it. That’s when we’d talked about finding some guy and fucking his lucky brains out, but we’d never acted on it.
Now I watched, fascinated, as she gave lucky Vince a blowjob. I knew who Vince was, of course. She’d talked about Vince. She met him at the gym. Ronnie worked out five times a week—she was far more vigilant than me about that—and had started paying extra for a personal trainer at the fitness center. Apparently, it came with fringe benefits.
I wondered how long she’d been seeing him. I couldn’t remember the first time she’d started talking about him. Was it a month ago? Two? How long had they been fucking? A while, if this little session was any indication, because they were more than comfortable with each other. Vince clearly knew she loved to be eaten and that she was multiply orgasmic, because he pulled her over his face and buried it between her legs.
“Oh baby, yeah, eat that pussy!” Ronnie took a break from sucking his cock to gasp out the words. I could see the way her eyes closed in pleasure, how the bulbous head of his monster porn cock turned almost purple in her fist. “Oh fuck, put your fingers in. Yeah, like that! Now finger me! Hard!”
I smiled. I couldn’t help it. I’d taught her that—how to be vocal, how to tell me what she wanted, how she wanted it. She’d learned well.
“Oh pump it, baby!” Vince groaned. “I want you to swallow my whole fucking load!”
Ronnie followed his instructions eagerly, pumping his cock in her fist while covering the head with her mouth. I stood there, my hand rubbing my own sopping pussy through my jeans, watching my girlfriend suck off some guy I didn’t know she was sleeping with, and I was actually disappointed I wasn’t going to see that enormous cock shoot.
What kind of masochist was I?
“Ahhh! Argggghh! I’m gonna… ohhh fuuuuck!”
Vince bucked his hips up on the bed, shoving his cock deep into Ronnie’s throat, making her gag on it. She gurgled and drooled all over it, saliva dripping down his scrotum toward the bed, her eyes widening as he unloaded into her mouth. She couldn’t swallow it all. She choked on it, eyes watering, his cum overflowing her lips, sliding down the shaft toward her clenched fist.
“Oh baby, please!” Ronnie gasped, pulling off his cock, her face full of his cum. “Don’t stop! Lick me! Make me come tooooo!”
She wailed and ground her pussy against his face, sitting up, hands on his chest, her little breasts bouncing as she rocked and rolled her hips. Her nipples were hard, hair falling in her face, obscuring her expression, but I’d memorized it. I knew just what she looked like when she was coming.
“Ohhhhhhh!” Ronnie’s body tensed, her thighs trembling as she climaxed all over his face. Vince, to his credit, didn’t stop. In fact, he wrapped his arms around her hips to keep her there, his tongue working between the smooth, shaved lips of her pussy.
God, I could almost taste her. I wanted her. So much it hurt.
“Oh. My. God.” Ronnie rolled off him onto her side of the bed, out of my line of site. I could see Vince, his erection slowly ebbing. He was a grower, not a shower. You’d never know it was going to be so impressive if you saw it soft, I mused.
“I’m so glad you let me come over.” Vince rolled toward her and now both of them were out of my line of sight.
I shrank back, leaning against the wall, trying to catch my breath, trying to think.
“Well, God, it was your fault,” Ronnie teased. “You kept getting me so hot on the phone.”
“You succumbed to my evil plan.”
“I did. You’re an evil, evil man. A horrible influence on me.”
“So when does your roommate get home?”
Roommate? Is that what she’d told him? That really hurt. Somehow,
that hurt more than watching the two of them having sex. How did she explain only having one bedroom? Only one bed?
“Soon,” Ronnie said. “You should go.”
“You’ll be at the gym tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
“Veronica, I have to ask you something.”
Veronica? He called her by her full name? The only other person I knew who did that was Mrs. B. Everyone else called her Ronnie.
“Okay.”
“Would you move in with me?”
Ronnie gasped. “What?”
“I’m just… I’m tired of sneaking around. Hiding from your roommate—and mine. If we lived together, we could do this all the time. Any time we wanted.”
“That’s true,” Ronnie replied, sounding thoughtful.
“Is that a no?”
“It’s just that… Gretchen…” Ronnie saying my name. Talking about me with someone else. It was breaking my heart. At least she was still thinking of me. At least she was still considering me. That was something—wasn’t it?
“She could find another roommate.”
Okay, it was true, I could find another roommate.
But I couldn’t find another Ronnie.
“Let me think about it.”
I crept down the hall, picking up my keys and purse from the kitchen table, and left, locking the door behind me. I got in my car and drove. I didn’t pay any attention to where I was going. I couldn’t stop thinking about what had just happened. What I’d seen. What I’d heard. What was I going to do?
In the end. I found myself parked outside the Baumgartners. I’d just sort of let muscle memory drive me to their house. They lived in a rich subdivision, at the very back, in one of the oldest houses. It was a huge house with three garages. There was quite a bit of yard out back and a big empty field behind that. The Baumgartners did well for themselves. Mrs. B was into real estate and Doc was, well, a doctor. Hence the nickname. Their neighbors were lawyers and corporate executives and other doctors and their houses were just as big.
I sat with my chin on my steering wheel, thinking about how I’d met Ronnie and the Baumgartners. I’d been hired as a nanny by Maureen and James Holmes. Their kids were both brats but they paid well and went on a lot of vacations. They took me to Key West for Christmas break that year, where Maureen had run into Carrie Baumgartner, an old college roommate. The Baumgartners had brought Ronnie along to watch Janie and Henry.
I smiled, remembering the first time Ronnie and I had been together. She told me a story that night I wasn’t sure I should believe—a story about sleeping with the Baumgartners. Doc and Mrs. B had seduced her, she said, and she was sleeping with them both, separately and together. The thought of Doc, tall, rugged, dark-haired, sexy Doc Baumgartner, and Mrs. B, so full and luscious and tanned, with her long blonde hair and full breasts, sleeping with nubile little Ronnie, just turned nineteen at the time, took my breath away. I wasn’t sure I believed her at first, but the story she told was so enticing, so sexy, and turned me on so much, Ronnie and I ended up masturbating together for the first time that night.
And it all turned out to be true. Every single, glorious detail.
The Baumgartners had shared their beautiful, young babysitter during that vacation, and I often wondered if that relationship would have continued—if they hadn’t hired me. All because crazy fundamentally religious Maureen Holmes found condoms in my purse and fired me. I think the Baumgartners felt sorry for me, and Mrs. B decided she needed more regular help, after school and on the weekends, and Doc said they could afford it, and before I knew it, I had a new job. And they didn’t call Ronnie to babysit anymore.
But fate had intervened. At least, that’s what I always thought when I met Ronnie in the mall, Henry and Janie in tow, and we’d struck up a conversation. Reconnected. And things… just happened. And kept happening. Until here we were, me and Ronnie, best friends and lovers. I was still working for the Baumgartners and Ronnie was going to school and we didn’t talk about what had happened between them on that trip to Key West. In fact, Ronnie didn’t even ask about the Baumgartners anymore.
If it weren’t for the Baumgartners, I never would have met Ronnie, I realized. And it was the Baumgartners who gave me the solution to my sudden dilemma. Ronnie had slept with the Baumgartners and had said she loved it. I knew she loved men and she loved women. We both had that particular proclivity. So why in the world couldn’t we share?
Yes, I’d been jealous while I watched her having sex with Vince, it was true. But I wasn’t jealous because I wanted her all to myself. I was jealous just because I wanted her. I wanted her too. It was that simple. I wouldn’t have minded being in the middle of her and Vince, I wouldn’t have minded that at all. In fact, the thought made me incredibly wet.
So the simple solution to my problem was just telling Ronnie I knew—and telling her I didn’t mind, because, really, I didn’t. As long as I could be part of her relationship with this guy, why would I mind? And Vince… what guy on the planet would say no to a threesome, I reasoned. It was a foolproof plan. I smiled, starting the car, the weight on my chest lifted. I couldn’t wait to tell Ronnie. It was the perfect solution.
Chapter Two
“Gretchen?” Doc knocked on the door.
“Just a minute!” I sniffed, wiping at my eyes with a Kleenex and blowing my nose. I flushed, pretending I was actually peeing, and looked at my face in the mirror as I washed my hands. My eyes were red-rimmed, my face puffy from crying. I looked awful, which made a whole lot of sense, because I felt awful.
“Are you feeling okay?” he asked softly. “The fireworks are starting soon. The kids want you to do sparklers with them.”
“I’m coming!” I patted my cold, wet hands against my cheeks, wiping my face on a hand towel before pulling open the door.
“Hey.” Doc cocked his head, his eyes far too perceptive as they searched my face. “Listen, if you don’t feel well…”
“No, I’m okay.” I assured him, trying on a smile, hoping it looked convincing. “The kids are out back still?”
I could hear the sounds of the party going on, music and laughter. The Baumgartners were hosting their annual Fourth of July party in their backyard. They had the perfect vantage point for the fireworks, over the field behind the house. The Clinton River ran back there and that’s where they let off the fireworks, in the city park across the river. There was a gazebo by the water they rented out for weddings and a small playground for the kids.
Down by the river, people lined both sides of the grass with blankets. But over here, separated by fields and trees, we could still see the fireworks display and we didn’t have to deal with any of the drunken crowds. Not that everyone wasn’t drunk here anyway. I could smell the booze on Doc’s breath. I wasn’t drinking, of course. I was on nanny duty.
“Sure you’re all right?” he asked, still blocking my way. He clearly wasn’t going to let me go until I’d reassured him again. But I didn’t want to reassure him. I could barely reassure myself.
“Ronnie broke up with me.” I just said it, no first thought, let alone a second one. I blinked, just as surprised as he was at my words.
“Oh, Gretchen.” Doc put a heavy hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even know… I mean, I knew you were roommates…”
“Right. Roommates.” I spat the word. That’s what she’d told Vince I was. Just her roommate.
I still couldn’t believe she was gone. She’d moved all her stuff out last week while I sat at the kitchen table and watched Vince carry her boxes. I still couldn’t believe she’d rejected my perfect plan. Because it had been so perfect. So very perfect. There had only been one flaw in my logic. It had never occurred to me that Ronnie wouldn’t want to share.
And that meant she had to choose.
And she had chosen Vince.
I burst into tears again, remembering the look on her face when she gave me back her key. Like we were just roommates. I’d managed
to keep it together until she left, until she pulled away in Vince’s Ford F-150, all of her worldly possessions strapped down in back. And then I’d lost it. And I’d been losing it ever since. Just like this.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized to Doc, shaking my head, trying to get it together again. Just telling someone else had made it even more real. I’d been sleeping on the couch all week because I couldn’t sleep in my own bed. Our bed. The bed I’d watched her have sex with Vince in.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Doc put his arms around me, and that little bit of comfort destroyed any chance of me regaining my composure. I collapsed, sobbing, really, really sobbing, like I had that first night, curled up in a fetal position on the sofa, crying all night long.
Doc pulled me into another room—their bedroom—sitting on the edge of the bed with me, an arm around my shoulder as I sobbed against his chest. He didn’t shush me, he just let me cry, his arms encircling me tightly until, slowly, my tears ended with long, hitching breaths.
“Want to talk about it?” Doc asked softly.
I shook my head, looking down at my hands, but I did. I talked anyway. I told Doc about my relationship with Ronnie. About seeing her with Vince. About my perfect solution and its imperfect dissolution. Because Ronnie didn’t want to share. Instead, she decided to choose. And she chose someone else.
“Why didn’t she choose me?” I asked softly, my breath still hitching in my chest. “What’s wrong with me?”
“There’s nothing wrong with you, sweetheart,” he assured me. “Nothing, Gretchen, I promise you.”
“Then why?” I wailed.
“I don’t know.” He sighed, his arm tightening around my shoulder. I felt his lips brush the top of my forehead, soft, tender. “Some people are just too afraid of who they really are to embrace a bigger life.”
A bigger life. I liked the sound of that.
“Did you love Ronnie?” I sniffed, lifting my head to meet his eyes. I had never told them that I knew, but he saw it in my eyes.