by Amy Brent
"Be fair, Kellan," protested Tucker. "I told 'em b'fore I fucked 'em that I wasn't the marryin' type. They said they could live with that. And it was a damn good time for us all, wouldn't you say?"
"You've done it on one woman together?" Shandy asked. She wondered what it felt like, having two men on her body at the same time--how did that work? Would it hurt? She'd once chanced upon three men and a girl doing an amateur porn shoot behind a restaurant, where she'd spent a day washing dishes in exchange for gas money. She had been too startled to turn away, and when they realized that she was watching they actually invited her to join them. The girl was naked already, her pussy pink and shining and the word “taut” for some reason came to mind, her breasts red and swollen from being squeezed. She didn’t seem the least bit fazed by Shandy coming around the corner, and for just a moment Shandy wondered what it was like, being so comfortable with being naked that she didn’t even try to cover up when a stranger walked by. “Hey, miss,” said the cameraman. “If you want in on this—” he said, groping the girl’s breast—and even through her surprise Shandy could tell how soft it was. “If you want a piece of this you gotta tell us now. Light won’t last forever.”
“Ah, just let her watch,” said one of the men. “It’s probably her first time seeing porn.”
“Bet you ain’t never seen one this big before,” laughed the other, whose pants were down around his ankles. He waved his enormous, meaty cock at her, and then it was huge—Shandy couldn’t help but stare, bug-eyed, at it. “Should we show her where we’re going to put it?” he asked the girl. Before she could say anything the man pushed the girl in front of him and bent her over—and that was when Shandy’s legs came back, but not before she saw the look of agony on the woman's face. They were hurting her, get help, she thought, but that was countered by the shuddering sigh floating down the alley after her. To this day Shandy still felt a little guilty about it. Shandy wasn't naive--she knew what porn was (she even knew a few girls who did it to pay the bills) but it was astounding how many people were involved in it, and how many people were willing to expose themselves to the world.
"Actually," said Tucker, "it was his idea. Something about her not being able to come with just one cock inside her or something."
"We were both drunk--tipsy, at the very least," Kellan grumbled, his face turning red. "And then she broke up with me to be with him, except that he'd already moved on to another girl, but I’m the one left looking like a dick."
"Don't you ever feel like you lost something when you have sex like that?" she asked. "I mean doesn't it lose its specialness after a while?"
"Oh honey," Tucker said. "Sex isn’t losin’ anythin’. It opens you up, pushes your limits, makes you feel like a new person."
"And then after?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, after you either keep on havin’ fun or you stop. Women all want to get serious, want a relationship, that sort of thing. Ain’t never met a girl who wasn’t afraid to say, ‘That’s bullshit, it ain’t for me’,” he said.
And she felt his hand holding on to her knee. And that feeling, when she saw all those naked girls dancing in the club, came back to her. Except that this time, running wasn’t an option. She was sitting in at a booth, with Tucker next to her and the other two across from her—they’d let her go if she told them to stop, but what he was doing, the soft touch of his hand on her thigh, the slow, rhythmic pushing and pulling of her leg, just a few inches, felt good enough that she didn’t completely want it to stop. Yet.
She turned to look at him, a little frightened, a little nervous. Tucker was smiling at her. “Why don’t you sit up here,” he said, patting the table.
She couldn’t hide her quivering body as she obeyed him. The dress she wore was very short, whenever she bent over (and she did, frequently, because the horny men who grabbed her ass liked to thrown things on the floor for her to pick up) it would ride up so that it would just reveal the edges of her underwear, so getting on the table no doubt gave all the guys a nice good view. But in a strange way, the thought of them seeing her excited her—finally, someone who appreciates me, her body seemed to be telling her, and what a fine-lookin’ bunch they are.
In the back of her mind, she kept going over what a terrible idea this was: whatever happened to that special someone? Waiting to get married? If this guy ain’t special, then none of them are. He’d promised a good time, hadn’t he? He’d promised that they’d show her what it was about.
Chapter 90
“Truman,” Tucker said. “Why don’t you get off your lazy ass and give the girl a neck rub?” he asked, as he guided her knees apart. Tucker reached up and began to unbutton her dress, exposing her shoulders and the straps of her bra.
“Let’s help her lose this, Kellan,” Tucker said.
She heard Kellan sigh and mutter, “I have no idea how you do this,” and she turned to him and said, “It’s all right.”
He nodded and smiled—so he had been thinking about this ever since they came in. “Kellan,” Tucker whispered, “is the best knot-tier in the world. He’s got fingers and hands so dextrous he can take off your panties without you even feelin’ that he’s been there.”
Shandy gasped in alarm and wanted to look to see if her underwear was still there, but then she realized that they would also be watching her, and for a split second the shame overrode her desire—but only for an instant, because Tucker still had her chin in his hand and he wasn’t letting her look down. She could only see into his eyes. Trust me.
“Just relax,” Tucker repeated. “We won’t hurt you none. Come on, now, lean back—easy does it.”
Behind her, Truman stood up on the seats and began pressing his hands into her neck. She could feel her muscles relaxing under his touch, and the first sigh—more contentedness than pleasure at this point—escaped her.
Tucker was sitting in front of her, his face level with her breasts. “You feel her, Truman?” he asked the younger man above them both. “Do you feel how soft she’s becoming? How relaxed she is? Now, this is where you tell her she’s beautiful.”
She could sense Truman’s hesitation, but she felt him lean down and say, into her ear, “You’re beautiful.”
“No, no—” Tucker rose up. “Like this.” He tilted her chin up so that she was looking him in the eyes, put one hand on her shoulder, and whispered, “You are beautiful.”
And something about the way he thrummed her collarbone with his thumb the moment he said those words made her wet and unleashed a tide of horniness inside her—a need that she couldn’t not fill, an urge so basic and so primal she could only express it with a groan.
“Hush now,” Tucker whispered, and he pulled her legs up.
He can see me now, she thought. He can see me now and I’m hoping that he likes me—
The dress had buttons all down the front—she normally did only half of them, because it was annoying and time-consuming—but now Tucker was slowly unbuttoning all of the buttons, and her dress was falling open, one button at a time. “Oh, this is so cute,” Tucker murmured—she was wearing plain white underwear, more functional than anything else.
“I didn’t know this would be happenin’ today,” she whispered, as he peeled apart the dress and helped her out of it. At least it’s a matching set, she thought, though at this point she didn’t think that it actually mattered. The guys were all looking at her as if they’d been hypnotized. The cool air on her skin gave her goosebumps.
“Well, I can’t say I mind,” Tucker said, kissing her. “Pretty sure these guys don’t mind, either. As we say, it ain’t about how how it’s wrapped.”
Suddenly the confinement of her bra was no longer there, just the cold of the diner washing over her breasts as Keller undid her bra. And her pussy, still wet and hot, was kissed by the cold as her panties vanished, along with her socks. Kellan was at her feet, looking slightly embarrassed as he gathered her clothes into a pile.
“Go on, Kel,” Tucker said. “Y
ou got first dibs. Eatin’ pussy is more your thing anyway.”
“I though it’d be nice to let Truman have her first,” said Kellan, his voice hoarse. “God knows he’s ready for it,” he added, with a wry laugh.
“I’m all right,” Truman said, sounding anything but.
“A boy’s gotta learn,” Tucker agreed. “Get down here, kid.”
Truman climbed down and exchanged place with Kellan, who knelt on the table and took a breast in each hand. Her nipples were already taut in the cold, but when he began to squeeze them, she felt a ripple of electricity run down her spine, pleasure lighting a glowing heat in her core and soaking her pussy—
“Touch,” Tucker was saying, now. “Gently, now—”
And Truman found the little bud of flesh with the tip of his finger and the shudder that ran through her when he did felt strong enough to rip her apart. Thank God Kellan was holding her, because she might have flown apart had it not been for his thick, muscular arms engulfing her. “Let yourself go,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ll keep you safe.”
“Kiss,” Tucker whispered, “Don’t suck, don’t chew—love her, because she’ll love you back.
And Kellan, in the meantime, kissed her—he tasted of the menthol in his cigarettes, which she always thought she’d mind more than she did, but right now, all she could feel was a cool chill going through her and she liked that chill and she liked……
Truman kissed her, too, lapping at the gush of wetness on her thighs, his lips twisting at the folds of flesh there. Her body felt like it was riding on waves of pleasure, and every time the waves broke and crashed she got catapulted higher and higher. “I can’t—I can’t—” she heard herself gasping—how could she contain herself? How was it possible that she wasn’t bursting with this insane ecstasy?
“You can,” Tucker whispered, and he reached around her and, his hand slick with her own wetness, slid a finger in and out of her ass. “Let yourself go,” whispered Kellan, “let yourself feel everything.”
Tears began to stream out of her eyes as she tried and tried to let her mind go, but she couldn’t. It was agonizing, being just on the edge of what she knew would be an explosion of pleasure, but not being able to get there. She wanted to please them, too—but Tucker just held her chin and nodded at her, his eyes wide: Just breathe.
“You too,” he said, and she wondered what he meant but then she felt another hand, two fingers, sliding in and out of her pussy. There was a sharp, burning pain, sore but delightfully so, as he stretched her and she found that she could anticipate the tips of his fingers touching her there but his fingers weren’t long enough.
“More,” Tucker said, and if two fingers was mildly painful then three fingers was a delicious kind of agony. She cried out, bringing even Kellan, who was sucking on her tits, to a pause. “Go on,” Tucker said. The waves of pleasure that were coursing through her bled into the pain, and she felt her back arch and spasm as Truman slid his entire hand inside her, and it gave her a little kick of triumph when she realized what she’d done, and how incredible it felt—and the Truman pulled his hand back out, leaving her gasping and longing for something to fill her up.
Suddenly there was something else going up her ass—and she realized it was Kellan’s cock, because he was groaning in her ear, breathing on her neck—it felt uncomfortably large going in but when he began thrusting the slow, back-and-forth motions stirred up a deep longing inside her. She groaned and cried and moaned—
And then Truman—she’d thought his hand was large and it was but his cock felt glorious inside her, reaching parts of her she didn’t know about, revealing with every pulse and thrust of his hips a whole different facet of pleasure, once wild and crazy, once soft and tender, once hard, once tender—and then there was Kellan, whose slow steady thrusts began opening something wonderful and light inside her, and Tucker, who was kissing her nipples and fondling her breasts—it was all building up inside her and all of it was glowing and hot but she couldn’t quite let go just yet—not just yet—
And then Tucker’s fingers grazed the tip of her clit and she screamed. All the heat and light that had been building up inside her ever since they started, all the anticipation that she’d been slowly working up to over the past year, all of the things she’d seen and everything she’d been tempted to do—all of it came together in a beautiful moment of spellbinding ecstasy. She screamed, she cried—but it wasn’t her that was doing it—she was far away, released from her body, on another plane that she didn’t even know was possible.
Easy there, take it easy—but she couldn’t. She wanted everything now—she felt her body open and drink it all in, letting Truman and Kellan explore her and Tucker taste her—she finally understood that this was what she wanted: everything.
Chapter 91
She was lying naked against Kellan, who was playing with her right nipple, with her legs apart, while Tucker thoughtfully toyed with her pussy. They’d moved to the floor—Truman, as his reward for a service well-rendered, had been sent out to the truck to bring in their sleeping bags, and now he lay apart, watching the two of them fondling her, touching her, keeping the embers warm, so to speak. They weren’t really doing anything sexual, just enjoying the touch of and being touched by each other. The contrast between the warmth from their bodies and the cold of the air was an oddly pleasant one. Her body felt newly reborn—every touch left a wake of electric tingles on her skin, and her pussy and ass felt pleasantly achy. She wasn’t ready to start walking around any time soon, but it wasn’t like they’d torn her or anything.
“That was nice, wasn’t it?” said Tucker, finally.
“It was,” she agreed. She didn’t remember it ending—all she knew was that when she came to again she was on the floor, her body partially wrapped up in their jackets, with Truman sucking gently on her nipples as Kellan murmured words of approval. “So am I just a teaching tool?” she’d asked, grinning at how flustered they were. She had discovered that there was a certain satisfaction to being used, to knowing that she was the reason why these stoic, straight-faced cowboys could cut loose and be themselves. And she’d found herself wanting to pay them all back, somehow.
“We can get into that if you think you’re ready for it,” said Tucker, now. “Kitchens are great for that sorta thing. All them handles—”
“I wasn’t thinking about that,” she said.
“Then what were you thinking of?” he asked.
“Well, for starters, that you’re wrong about me.”
“Oh?”
“I may not be a lady, but I still always say ‘Thank you’ to those who take the time to show me a thing or two.”
Kellan’s hands squeezed a little harder—across from her, Truman’s eyes went wide. “I ain’t never done this before,” she said, working her way down Tucker’s body, “so you’ll probably have to give me some pointers—”
“Just go,” he said breathlessly, lying back and closing his eyes.
Kellan’s hands reached between her legs, re-lighting the sensuality that had been, reminding her of how good it felt to be touched, and what she wanted Tucker to feel. Her clit was still a little raw, but the pleasure of being touched outweighed the pain and when she took Tucker into her mouth she wanted him to feel that pleasure, feel that—
Ten-foot Tucker, indeed, she thought, as she felt him harden and swell. It felt as if his cock was as wide as it was long—her eyes began to water as she tried to take him deeper, but he was just too long. But his eyes were rolling back in his head as he watched her, and she’d discovered that you might be able to fake the scrams but there was no faking the shudders that started from deep within.
I can do this, she thought, and even through her tears she could see him panting and groaning as she wrapped her tongue around him and pressed her lips to his shaft, sucking on it just a little—it was barely a kiss—but he began to spasm and shake inside her-and she felt Kellan put just a little pressure against her clit and she wanted to gasp bu
t he was already inside her and when her throat twitched as her body tried to cry out Tucker came, a rush of salty-sweet-sour cum washing over the inside of her mouth, running down and out.
“Swallow,” Kellan whispered, and she obeyed—the slime was already mixing with her spit and as he pulled her off of Tucker he asked her, “What in tarnation were you thinkin’?”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“That no woman,” Tucker gasped, his voice hoarse and his breathing unsteady, “has ever—given me—a blowjob—of her own accord.”
She laughed nervously. “That sounds funny,” she said. “If you’re really as good as you say you are—”
“Honey,” said Kellan, chuckling, “You’re gonna find out that when it comes to sex most men lie at least half the time and Tucker is more than most men.”
She sighed. It wasn’t exactly a surprise—she’d pegged Tucker for a talker the moment she saw him. Still, it would have been nice to know that he was more than just pretty words. He did give you the time of your life, she thought. But afterward? Afterward, what then?
“Come on,” Kellan said, holding open his sleeping bag. “I got room for you under here.”
“Thanks,” she said, settling against him. She’d learned, at any rate, to like the way Kellan held her—firmly, gently, just one touch from setting off the electric tingles, and if she behaved nicely, he would make that one touch. Was this how addictions started? She didn’t care. It was nice to be wanted, even if it was only for a day.
Chapter 92
It was Truman who saw it first—the flashing yellow lights of the snowplows the next morning. “Woo hoo!” he hollered. “We can get outta here!”