by Carmen Faye
By the end of the night the girls were much better and relaxed. When she told them that her and Sydney were going to drive them home in the car, they both objected, and wanted Neil to take them home.
"Well, that's a problem see," she told them, "because we have these pictures of Neil for you, and they won't fit on the bike."
"Pictures?" they asked together, with excited voices.
One was a head and shoulder shot of Neil looking toward his right, his eyes taking in a vista view of the future. The other, was a head and shoulder shot with him looking slightly down, giving him a definite dark-angel appearance. The girls went crazy over them and readily accepted the ride home in the car afterward.
Back at home they found Neil in his studio, with his music mixing program up on the monitor, and his headphones on.
"Neil?"
He took of his headphones and turned, "Yeah?"
"Just letting you know we're back," she told him.
"The girls?"
"They seemed fine and Amanda wasn't fretting, or angry," she told him.
"That's good."
"It was him, wasn't it, Anton," she said.
"Yeah. He was being driven around by a prospect named Jason, in Jason's blue Cougar, because his left hand is broken. I knew I recognized the car. Jason's dead, and Anton got away. I got him in the ass and in the left shoulder again, but he managed to get to a taxi and to Doc Harry's."
"I'm glad you didn't go after him. The girls needed you here, with them. You saw how they were," she told him.
"Yeah, I know," he agreed darkly.
Chapter 19
Shayla woke to voices downstairs, and slipped out of bed. The hall clock told her it was after two in the morning on Monday. After putting on a G-string and her short blue satin robe, which she makes sure is tied tight, she goes out to the upper balcony. Down in the living room she finds that seven men, obviously club members from the leather and patches, are talking with Neil, who is sitting in the large stuffed chair.
"Neil?"
He turns and looks up to her, "Yes?"
"Do our guests need refreshments?" she asks.
"If you are willing, that would be good, yes," he tells her.
Going back into the room she lays out nine lines of cocaine on their mirror, does one, and then brings the mirror down stairs and gives it to Neil. After returning with two beer buckets of bottles, she looked to her husband.
"Is this boy talk, or can girls listen too?"
"Girls are invited," he said, then smiled, so she slid onto the wide arm of the chair — the feature that sold this chair for her — and sipped her own beer.
She recognized Brian, who gave her a smile, which she returned politely, but then played a little with Neil's hair, and kept her eyes on his jawline, and hawk nose -- which wasn't difficult to do.
Neil introduced the men to her, as West, Brian, Hugh, Judge, Clayton, Fire, and Swift.
"Who did these photos for you?" West asked. "I would love to have something like this with my wife."
"His name is Jeff Collar? And I would be happy to introduce you, but it took a $20k bribe to get him to agree to a shoot for us," she told West.
West laughed, "Maybe I don't want it that bad, but they are great."
"Thank you."
"As I was saying before our lovely interruption," Judge began, "the Richie thing has lost him a great deal of clout with the older members; the ones who remember Antonio. Many of the younger members don't like it either, but are on the fence about whether a vote of no confidence is in order."
"He seems to be certain that your death and bringing the girls back under-wing would mend all wrongs, and there’s some truth to that. You hurt him bad, and he has no club support for retaliation. But the longer you get away with it, the more clout he loses," West told him. "Even the youngers are feeling that one."
Fire told him, "That shooting with your sisters though, that has riled up several members who have daughters and younger siblings."
"So, basically what you're telling me," Neil said, "is that he's going to go outside of the club, to have me killed, the girls kidnapped and under control, or them dead as well."
"That's about the size of it Neil," Brian agreed.
Shayla felt a knot of nausea growing in her gut. She thought they were saying the club would remove Anton from office, but that wasn’t even an option. All of their minor victories only made him more determined and more vicious.
Chapter 20
It started about ten o'clock, on Tuesday. Shayla was cleaning the house. Sydney was helping her. They finished the vacuuming and dusting. They were done with the bathrooms. They were finishing with the plants — watering and then spraying down the two Cascading Philodendrons, the Boston Fern, the Dracaena Tree in the living room and the two hanging Spider Plants. Shayla was just about finished with the Boston Fern, when Sydney attacked her with the spray bottle, squirting her in the back and the side of her face.
Letting out a yelp she ran for the stairs, firing back at Sydney who ducked behind the book case and then fired at her as she ran up to the middle landing. Then the two of them, ducking and firing and laughing made it to the top landing, where they ran out of water.
Sydney ran for the master bathroom and closed the door, locking her out, and she could hear Sydney inside, quickly reloading. She ran down the stairs and headed for the kitchen faucet. There, she reloaded and was happy that she was finished by the time Sydney had crept back down to the middle landing.
Just as she was about to re-engage the enemy, Sydney put her finger to her lips, and then pointed in the direction of Neil's studio. Shayla giggled quietly and in stealth, the two enemies were suddenly allies against a common, unsuspecting foe.
What had Neil done to deserve such a fate? Well, he became their husband of course, and as every women knows, husbands are the enemy, and must be punished.
They crept together to the door, and she turned the knob painfully slow, and pressed open the door even slower, until they had clear shots of Neil — who suddenly turned around as if he felt their intentions. Startled, they open fired with a barrage of streams and fearful giggles.
God, he was so fast. She barely got back out into the dining room, but Sydney was caught and swooped against the wall -- then the tickling began.
With gleeful horror, she watched as Neil tickled Sydney, her sister, her wife, her ally. Bringing tickling into a water fight was like bringing an Uzi to a knife fight. It was monstrous. It was unspeakable. It was totally unfair.
She darted forward and snatched up Sydney's dropped water bottle and then with both hands, began a desperate attack to get Neil off her ally. Stream after stream hit Neil in the face, until he dropped Sydney and turned his attention on her.
She yipped and ran for the stairs, dropping the water bottles. She made the middle landing, and the turn, and was nearly to the top landing when he caught her up and tossed her over his shoulder. She kicked and squealed and beat on his back and ass with ineffectual fists.
"No! Neal! Don't!" she pleaded in bursts of laughter.
Then he tossed her on the bed where she bounced on the mattress and quick as a mink she scrambled for the headboard, snatched up the middle pillow and swung behind her with every ounce of force she could muster, catching him across the face.
Then he was on her.
She twisted and turned and scrambled for the side of the bed, but he had her, and god he was so fucking strong. And then the tickling began.
"Sydney! Help!" she screamed as the tickles bent and twisted her body with uncontrollable eruptions.
Then Sydney was there, but she could see in her eyes that Sydney wasn't there to help. The traitorous bitch was taking off her shoes and then pulling down her shorts. A few short seconds later Shayla's bikini top was history, and she was writhing naked under the attacks of both of her lovers.
She never realized how ready her pussy became from laughter. When Neil's amazingly thick cock spread her open however, she
felt ready and wanting. She still struggled, a little, trying to pretend she didn't want this, but her body defeated her with a quick and obvious climax.
Sydney straddled her, putting her pussy in her face. She tried to shake her head 'no' to the traitorous bitch, but Sydney grabbed her by the hair and forced herself into her lips. So, she sucked and licked while Neil was bringing her to another climax.
It didn't end until about two o'clock.
Four hours she was used by her spouses, one after the other, over and over again. She pleaded, and begged and even prayed, but the orgasms rolled her over and over again. A cock or a pussy was always in her mouth, and in her pussy or her ass. Sydney used two vibrators on her at one point while Neil made her air-tight with his cock gagging her throat. She was plundered, she was ravaged.
She was fucked senseless.
Her nervous system was electrified with glow-light, and jolts of lightning.
Every erogenous zone she had was over stimulated. With one on each side of her, they kissed, while continuing to rub her body, rubbing her as if they might take her again.
She made it out from between them and into the shower. Her hair was drenched with sweat, and her skin was tacky. She shampooed twice, and washed herself down three times, while after-glow reinvigorated her. Afterward she dried off to the sound of her two lovers, loving each other.
She sat down at the double vanity, which was large and rectangular, and had two chairs, like actresses might use in a shared dressing room, only much nicer. There she did two lines of cocaine while she watched Neil fucking Sydney.
They go at each other with animal energy. Sydney gives as good as she gets, fucking him back mercilessly. Where Sydney gets the energy, or the strength, Shayla has no idea, but there it is, wild and refusing to be tamed or taken by a lesser creature than herself. Neil, even with his greater strength, must prove himself over and over again if he wants to have her. They normally only go at each other when she is not available, otherwise she's the woman they both want.
It's a strange dichotomy, Shayla muses, between the bed and the rest of the world. Outside of the bedroom, she's the queen. They both defer to her, come to her for counsel and advice, and will alter their choices at her objection — generally speaking -- not always of course. In the bed however, she is the submissive; the one who pleasure is taken from; the one who nurtures without restraint.
She mentally shrugs, because it works for her, and obviously they enjoy the parts and who plays them.
The only place the lines blur is when they have guests or are in public. Then, her body language and actions all portray Neil as her dominate, and she the submissive lover, which is true so why shouldn't she tell the world? Especially the other men who give her smiles.
Over the last couple of weeks, since they moved into their new home, she and Sydney have taken to going out to lesbian dance clubs together when they want to dance. There, again, Sydney is her lover; Sydney is the butch who is dotted on and fawned over.
They go there for two reasons, the first being no one they know would go there, unless perhaps one of the call-girls was actually gay, but so far that hasn't happened.
The second was that two women dancing together seemed to be a challenge to Miami men. They just wouldn't leave them alone and let them dance. Back when they were single, and looking for a cock-for-the-night, that was convenient. Now, however, it was just annoying.
She brushed out her hair, watching the two of them battle with each other's lust, until Sydney once more conceded to his strength and power, and was suddenly the woman, writhing with cascading climaxes. Shayla doesn't understand the energy between them, but recognizes its strength and power. Neil enjoys his animal sex with Sydney just as much as he enjoys her submissive offerings of pleasure. Though they both use her more often than they use each other, which has made for several busy days.
Sydney likes her to talk dirty when she fucks her, to say she's her bitch, and to fuck her like she owns her. Sydney gets off when she tells her to fuck her like she's her whore. Any of these, and others, are enhanced when she growls them out during an orgasm.
Neil prefers her to be the seducing succubus. He likes her to play with her breasts, and to masturbate for him, and run her hand through her hair. He likes to have his face caressed and his shoulders. He likes her to move with him. She tells Neil to take her, to use her, and that she belongs to him. She tells him she's always belonged to him, that she's never belonged to anyone else -- which is true. He likes to hear her whimper, and to make her a little scared. When she loses control, and is lost in cascading orgasms, he likes to take her hard from behind, and to pull her back by her hair, to make her helpless in his arms while he uses her.
Right now, her scalp was sore from how much they pulled her hair today, and her abs were sore from the number of curling orgasms. Sydney has discovered how to keep her orgasm sustained, without letting her climax for up to two minutes. Sydney can do this when she eats her. The blissful-agony is unreal. When Neil takes her in the ass, she has body orgasms that feel like total electrocution, only with the agonizing pleasure of an orgasm.
She has been a well fucked woman.
After dressing again in her shorts and bikini top, and slipping back on her running shoes, she goes back down stairs to finish with the plants. Their lifestyle never allowed for plants before, or pets of any kind. She's been thinking a cat would be nice.
She heard them finish upstairs and could picture them lying side by side, arms out and legs open, panting. They won't snuggle or caress. There is little romance between them. She's the one they both woo. Foreplay between those two is watching a football game together. Sydney gives him head at half-time and then they fuck on the couch after the game. Sydney is the fun one, the one that wrestles, and starts water fights, and comes home with tickets to the game. Neil and Sydney are buddies. She's their wife.
Chapter 21
Even though the start of the semester was several weeks off, both of them bought the books for all of their classes and spent most of their afternoons in deep study. They wanted to finish their bachelor's degrees strong, so that getting into the master's program wouldn't be a hassle.
The first week of study was horrible for Shayla. Her mind wandered, her focus was non-existent, and her endurance was shit. Sydney was having the same problems.
"When was the last time we actually read something? I mean, read it, not just glossed over it?" she pointed out to Sydney.
"So, you don't think we blew our brains out then?" Sydney asked.
"No, I just think that the level of study we're use to, is a level you reach through exercise. We don't have blown brains, we have fat brains," she said with a teasing smile.
"Speaking of fat, we need to hit the gym too," Sydney told her, returning to her book.
"What‽"
"Well, y'know. The last few times I've tribbed your ass, it hasn't been as tight," Sydney said casually.
"Oh you bitch!" Shayla screamed and attacked Sydney on the couch.
"I was kidding!" Sydney howled with mirth, as Shayla plowed into her.
She still purchased memberships for a local gym, and when neither of them were looking, she gave her ass a slap in front of the mirror to see if she's flabby at all. If Neil ever joked with her like that, she knew she'd need therapy. She had no idea how to take someone she loved telling her she had a fat ass, in stride. She just didn't have the tools.
Two weeks later, she sat on the couch, studying with the old stamina, a solid rock for an ass, and well defined thighs. She turns a lot of heads at the lesbian night clubs, but so does Sydney.
Lesbians, she decided, were aggressively rude. Far worse than the Miami men. Sydney would no more than leave the table to go get them fresh drinks when some dike would plop down and start chatting her up. She tells the bitch that she's with someone, and points at her ring, "Seriously with someone," — only to get a vacant look like, it didn't matter, the dike was going to fuck her anyway.
Twi
ce Brenda, the door woman, had to break Sydney away from some large, aggressive dike.
While her stamina was back, her retention wasn't. She required more notes than she recalled having to take before their two year break. After reading through a chapter, she would go through the study questions at the end and find she hardly remembered a thing about what she just read. She use to keep her books pristine, but now she was using several different colors of highlighter and making notes in the margins, as well as using a notebook for further notes.
After showering together, Neil and Sydney came down stairs, both of them going for the office rooms; Neil to get back to his mixing and Sydney to grab her books. Sydney laid out a few lines on the coffee table mirror and offered them to her.