Double Entry: The Collection
by Meghan Boehners
Double Entry: The Collection
© 2011 Meghan Boehners
Smashwords Edition
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© 2011 Meghan Boehners
15 Minute Fantasies
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
Author's Note: Hi, everyone! This is Meghan. What you're about to read is a collection of erotic short stories from my “Double Entry” series. You're reading “Double Entry at the Office,” “Double Entry at the Office #2” and “Double Entry at the Office #3.”
Each story is about the same erotic male-male-female threesome, but from the perspective of the player. The first story is Alicia's, the second Big Jim's, and the third is Little Jim's. Each story may describe the same events, but you get a completely different, steamy set of details, feelings, and slick reality from the vantage point of the menage.
Enjoy, and if you like what you read, check out the other titles in the 15 Minute Fantasies series! ;P
Story 1: Alicia's Tail
I knew the day I started working at the trucking company that I would end up fucking my boss.
What I never would have guessed was that I'd fuck his son at the office, too.
And both at the same time. On Father's Day.
Being hired as a Rate Analyst wasn't exactly my idea of a great career move, but the pay was decent, I got extra for working midnights, and where else can you learn the shipping code for "bull semen"? I mean -- seriously? People ship bull semen on a truck? Yep. Human semen, too. I'd hate to confuse those two and deal with the angry woman at the fertility clinic who discovered she'd just been metaphorically fucked by Ferdinand the Bull.
But anyway. Speaking of fucking bulls -- my boss was built like one. Jim was an ex-football player, but not the type who let himself go to seed five years out of high school, you know? He'd played in college until he got injured, and then lost his football scholarship. Got his CDL and drove long haul for a few years while finishing his degree. Then he was made a vice president in the trucking industry and built his own little empire, starting Full Freight Trucking, Inc. before he was 40.
The day I walked in for the interview, I knew I was done for.
And wanted him to do me. Junior, however, was a bonus. A nice, healthy, strapping ten inch bonus.
¦ § ¦ § ¦
"So, Ms. Jaymes, I see you have database experience. Why would I want to hire you?" Jim Michaels took off his glasses and ran a muscled hand through his thick, brown hair. Blue eyes with mature laugh lines narrowed, his intelligence obvious. His interest was obvious, too, as he leaned back in his chair, arms behind his neck, khakis stretched across thick athlete's thighs and a crotch that bulged.
A small mirror behind his desk showed my reflection. At 21 I still looked good. Busting my ass for three years to finish college early hadn't done me any good in the skin department, but I'd just spent the last eight weeks picking up some nude modeling work on the beach in southern California. The sun-washed hair and light tan made me look younger than I am, and as my eyes flitted across that bulge I licked my lips, my voice coming out a little huskier than I'd planned. "Because I'm very good with figures. Like you," I replied, nodding.
He raised his eyebrows. I hadn't meant the double entendre, but now that it was out there and he reacted like that, I pushed it further. "I know how to handle a spread, I mean. I'm a great analyst," I explained, stressing the “anal” in the word.
"I'll bet you are." His eyes had darkened and his voice turned to gravel, tight and choked. Those thick hands smoothed along the desktop as if caressing my skin and I felt myself get wet instantly. I've always been stacked, but now my nipples tightened and I felt like my breasts were balloons, and Jim's gaze was helium.
He looked at the swell of my chest and nodded. "I'll bet you do. So what's the shipping code for bull semen?" Merry eyes twinkled.
"I wouldn't know," I said as casually as possible, running a finger along my bottom lip as he tracked it. "I'm more familiar with human semen."
He sighed. I knew that sigh. It's the sigh of a man desperately hoping that by letting the air out of his lungs he can let some of the blood out of his humongous erection, so he doesn't embarrass himself when he stands up.
But it never works.
Yet they always try.
I stood and leaned over his desk. My red, flushed breasts showed in the mirror. My cheeks matched my boobs. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Michaels. An absolute pleasure."
"Wait," he said, struggling to stand. He winced. Damn -- how big was that thing?
"I haven't given you any details about the job," he continued. "It's yours if you want it. $25,000 a year plus benefits."
"What kind of -- " my eyes shifted to his crotch, then back to his eyes, "-- benefits?"
"Fringe, honey. Fringe benefits." He stifled a smile and looked like George Clooney.
I widened my eyes, trying to look all innocent and shit. "Oh, I've never had fringe benefits before. That sounds like fun."
He grinned and nodded. “So you accept?”
“Well,” I drawled, stretching the word out. Time to negotiate. “Twenty-five seems kind of low. You know – for someone with my anal—er, accounting skills. I'm particularly good at double entry, you know.” No stranger to finding ways to squeeze a man out of more money, I knew how this worked. He would try to dicker me down, and I'd appeal to his dick to raise me up.
A new respect flickered through his eyes. “You know more about business than I'd have imagined,” he said, nodding. The crisp shirt and khakis reminded me of my high school math teachers, all football coaches. I'd gone back and fucked most of them, and they'd all been amazing in bed. Most loved the cheerleader fantasy, too. I wondered if Big Jim liked a pom-pom handle up his ass like the middle school football coach had – while I wore pasties and saddle shoes and cheered for him.
He pressed his lips together in a pensive expression, considering his bid. “What figure are you looking at, Alicia?” he asked.
Giving him the onceover made him blush. Oooo, I liked that. “My ideal figure.” I sighed. “Thirty-five would be better.”
“Let's split the difference. Thirty? Plus ample room for bonuses.” He stressed the word “ample” while hungry eyes nearly ate my breasts from across the desk.
I reached for his hand to shake it. His firm grasp made me nearly come right there. Sheer force of will kept me from pulling a Meg Ryan right there. "I'll have what she's having" -- indeed. Except that what I needed right then was a double-headed dildo that would stretch from pussy to ass, with Mr. Michaels licking my clit until I exploded.
"I'll administer them personally," he assured me, handing me his card. "So you'll start Monday?"
"I'll start Monday, Mr. Michaels."
"Call me Jim, Al
icia."
"OK, Jim. See you Monday."
And I had started that Monday and a month later I found myself with that double-headed dildo after all. And Big Jim and Little Jim. Only "Little" Jim was a very, very unfair nickname for the company's second in command.
¦ § ¦ § ¦
It was Father's Day, and Jim had been coming on to me for weeks. Most of the guys were fathers and asked for the day off ,so I was covering the entire shift alone, doing the work of four people. Saturday midnights were quiet anyhow, so it was no big deal, but at 2 a.m. Jim showed up, looking half asleep and upset. Even rumpled and sleepy he was gorgeous and made my nipples tingle.
"What's up?" I asked, one hand on the 10-key pad, mindlessly coding and looking at rate bills, wiggling slightly to scratch my clit's new eager itch. We got a bonus for faster processing, and I'd turned out to be the fastest rate analyst on third shift. I needed the extra money, and that 10 percent would mean the difference between making rent or eating protein this month.
"We had a computer malfunction. A bunch of product went to Pittsburgh when it should have gone to Cleveland." He wasn't angry, just frazzled and stressed. This was a different Jim. Normally, he was a jock's jock, a 40-something guy who knew himself and who flirted with a two-by four. Sexual harassment wasn't something you reported at this company. It was something you expected.
A fringe benefit.
With his delicious looks, I didn't mind at all. In fact, I wished he'd asked for more. Especially at night, alone in my studio apartment, just me and my rabbit vibrator. Thoughts of Jim kept me going, the hum of my rabbit stroking my clit, my fingers moving to my tight ass, lubing up and giving myself some pleasure, imagining Jim's face there, Jim's lips there, his big cock pushing gently against my ass, gliding in through the muscle clench and sending me into a frenzy. The rabbit was great, filling me and driving my clit into spasms that stretched through my pussy and anus, but it wasn't the same as Jim.
Big Jim.
Now he was here, and we were almost alone. A few guys and one woman were at the loading docks, smoking and playing cards, waiting for a new shipment. One more hour 'til the new line of trucks came in with some overnight deliveries.
This was my only chance.
I wasn't going to fuck it up.
Well...I was, actually. Going to fuck it, that is.
"You seem tense," I said, walking up to him and caressing his shoulders. "Let me give you a massage." His neck was like granite under silk, the skin so smooth I almost cried with the sheer luxury of being allowed to touch it. Tight cords of muscle slid under the tan skin, and as I kneaded and stroked, he relaxed visibly, then audibly as he exhaled. One [art of him tightened, though. His sweat pants were leaving nothing to the imagination, and as his cock rose I gasped involuntarily. It was that big.
Oh, God, my pussy ached for that in me. A small moan escaped through my parted lips, and then I noticed Jim's eyes were watching me as I stared at his crotch.
He flipped me, suddenly, into his lap, and the tip of his cock pushed against my ass. Hungry lips ate mine, possessing me like an animal claims another during mating season. I wanted him to mount me, to pound that huge cock in me, to slap his balls against my taint and slip a finger in my ass, finger my clit and make me howl at the moon, exploding. As his lips and tongue penetrated into me, nearly pinning me to his possessive hand that now slid through my hair like the folds of my vulva, teasing and owning, I realized one hand had already slipped under my skirt,
One swift move and those muscled hands, so skilled with a football, ripped my panties and flung them across his desk, landing, oddly enough, on a report about bull semen.
One finger plunged into my soaking pussy and I shifted in his lap, ready to straddle him. "Not yet," he hissed against my neck, a warm teasing voice a promise to draw this out. He turned and hooked his finger up to stroke my G spot and I cried out, ready to climax.
But he had other plans.
One arm stretched out and swept everything off his desk, the mess making a series of dull thuds on the carpeted floor. Then he hauled me up as if I were a feather pillow, spread my legs wide, and dove his face into me, tongue fucking me like he was a starving man and I was a smorgasboard.
My climax was so close, so close, and I dug my hips into his face, hands reaching behind his head to push his tongue into me. He sucked my clit and stuffed two, no three, fingers inside my aching hole, filling it just enough to bring me to the edge but not enough. I needed that big cock in me.
If I was a buffet, then his fingers were just an appetizer.
"Please, Mr. Michaels. Please fuck me," I whimpered. I looked up and saw my reflection in the mirror behind his desk. My pink, red pussy was dripping with juices, smearing his desk and begging for him to plunge into me.
"Oh, Alicia, I'll get there," he said, pulling down his sweatpants. "But most women need a little preparation before they can get some of this."
Now, I've had friends tell me whispered stories about the huge cocks they've fucked, and I've had my share of big ones over the years. But this -- this was like a butt plug, only twice as long, but just as thick.
Hmmm....butt plug. Maybe that's what he meant when he said I needed some "preparation"?
And just them he pulled out...a doubleheaded dildo. A warm shot of lighting filled my cunt lips and I nearly trembled and twitched to ecstasy from the mere thought of that thing and Jim's lips on me.
A knock on the door interrupted us, and as Jim shouted "Hold on!" -- in walked Little Jim.
Little Jim isn't really Jim's son. James McDorfam -- yes, THAT James McDorfam -- joined the trucking company after his spectacular injury on national television, when he blitzed out his knee during the Big Ten conference finals. Big Jim took him under his wing and taught him the ropes; Little Jim, as everyone called him, was like a son.
But not quite.
"So I have those regional reports from the -- ah -- the -- oh, my GOD!" he shouted, suddenly realizing what he'd walked in on.
Big Jim turned bright red and moved slightly, one head of the dildo grazing my clit. I groaned and couldn't help it, my hand reaching down to stroke off. My heartbeat was in my clit and my fingers strummed it twice -- and that's all it took. I started smashing up against the dildo head, seeking it out while my clit set all my nerve endings on fire, my legs stretching in a full split and open wide to both men, my other hand reaching for my ass and sliding my own juices down to my puckered sex hole.
A cockeyed grin slipped over Big Jim's face.
"So, Little Jim, exactly how much of this business do you want to learn from me?" he asked. I couldn't stop coming, wave after wave hitting me, and just as I would start to float down I'd see them staring at me and the sheer power of their eyes watching me at my most vulnerable moment made me scream with climax. Little Jim covered my mouth with one well-manicured hand. Quarterback hands.
Hands that know how to handle a ball.
He didn't need to RSVP; Little Jim grabbed the dildo from Big Jim and leaned over me. "You look like you're not quite done yet, honey. Let's see how much more you have in you."
"Yes, yes, please," I begged, now feeling the pressure rise again, an unlimited pool of desire and need welling up in me. Where was this coming from?
Little Jim eased the 14" dildo in me, one head going in at least 8 inches.
"Whatever that feels like, baby, it's not enough. I've got more coming," Big Jim gasped, one fist wrapped around his huge penis, slowly sliding it along the shaft, taking his time.
"Come here and let me lube you up," I demanded. He sauntered over, stepping out of his pants along the way, my hands slipping over his tight ass as I took him in my mouth, instantly full and content. Meanwhile, Little Jim undressed quickly and leaned down, one hand fucking me with the dildo, his mouth descending on my clit in a ripping kiss of tongue and heat.
Fire. I was on fire, my mouth full of a cock as thick as a Coke can, my pussy being fucked by a solid 8 inches of dildo, and Little J
im tongue fucking my clit. Just when I thought I couldn't handle any more, Little Jim stopped.
"No! No!" I sat up without thinking, and Big Jim fell out of my mouth. "Please don't stop!" Little Jim looked like a lighter version of Big Jim, with blue eyes and bleached blond hair. Both had the strong football body, though Little Jim had a six pack so tight I could have jumped on and bounced off. Then I looked at his cock and realized that Little Jim was poorly named.
It was bigger than Big Jim's.
Neither man seemed upset or shy about seeing the other naked. In fact, Little Jim grinned at my reaction and nudged Big Jim. Ah -- they had done this before. Jealousy flared up in me. Which woman? Because I wanted more of this. I wanted them to myself. If anyone was getting double teamed by these two gorgeous hunks of man flesh, it was going to be me.
And boy was I right.
"Turn over," Little Jim urged me, licking a line up my neck to my ear. I shivered, my long, curly blond hair sliding over the wet trail he left, making me shudder again with anticipation. I turned over on my belly and he leaned me over the desk, then pulled me back a bit, climbing on the desk. I tried to climb up in his lap and mount that amazing cock, but he held me back. "Hold on there, sweetie. We'll get there." He glanced at Big Jim and nodded. The older man pulled something out of a desk drawer.
"Astroglide. The Breakfast of Champions," he announced laughing. Little Jim pulled me against him and slipped his penis in me, the tight warm fullness a welcome pleasure. I could feel my climaxes building, all standing in a row and ready to go at once, like a fireworks finale.
Big Jim took the Astroglide and squirted it all over the cleft of my ass. An inkling of what they were planning hit me. I'd never had a threesome like this, and had never even considered double entry. And never by two guys so huge.
Double Entry: The Collection (3 Menage Stories) Page 1