Siren's Garter: Issue One August 2016

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Siren's Garter: Issue One August 2016 Page 11

by Miriam F. Martin


  I massaged her waist. Her hips. Back up, gently cupping each breast. The kissing became harder, wetter, passionate, like suffocating but more pleasant. I slid one hand back downward, and parted her thighs, the soft skin contrasting with the rough denim of her shorts.

  And pressed my middle finger on top of the sweet spot, rubbing. A primal moan escaped Mandy’s throat, which made me press hard and faster. I couldn’t wait to get those shorts off, could imagine the smell of her pussy, but I didn’t want to stop kissing her.

  She pushed me away, arm’s length, her breathing savage, bosom heaving.

  “I… need…” she said. “Need to pay my wager.”

  I cupped her face in both hands. “Upstairs in the bedroom. Pay it in full.”

  Mandy reached up and kissed me once more. I took her by the hand, and my wife in the other hand, and led them upstairs.

  Now I was sort of clear headed, I was entirely uncertain if I could keep up tonight.

  6

  By the time we reached the bedroom, Katie already had her top off and her shorts unzipped, and left her clothes in a trail. All that remained was black lacy lingerie and an ankle bracelet.

  The bedroom was dark with the curtains pulled tight. Had I known about the company, I’d have left the floor lamp on. Instead, I reached into the darkness, felt around along the wall, and nearly knocked the lamp down trying to find it.

  The light was enough to see with, not enough to read in. The king size bed was made, covers and a quilt pulled up tight underneath three pillows. The duvet wasn’t put on, nor were the decorative pillows Katie liked.

  She meant business tonight.

  Katie and I pulled the covers down, exposing the satin sheets underneath. Mandy leaned against the door, watching us.

  “You can’t chicken out on me now,” said Katie. She grasped Mandy by the hands and yanked her friend into the room.

  “I’m not chickening out,” said Mandy. “I’m assessing the situation.”

  “For what?”

  “Predators, maybe.”

  “Girl, we’re the predators here.”

  The women approached me, slow as if in a bad horror movie where the monster can’t run for some unexplained reason. My heart pounded, thudding in my chest and throat and head.

  Watching the women circle me, like a pack of wolves coming in for the kill.

  Both sets of eyes roamed up and down. Devouring me.

  Katie yanked off my belt. In a second my pants were undone.

  Mandy held back. A moment longer.

  I pulled her into my arms.

  Right as Katie pulled my pants down, along with my boxers.

  I sprang to attention in a semi-limp way.

  The girl in my arms pulled at my shirt. I helped her take it off all the way.

  My wife’s warm lips nibbled on my cock.

  I kissed Mandy. Slow. A taste.

  A moan escaped from deep in her throat. I could tell nobody had touched her in too long. I slid my fingers up her side.

  And cupped one breast.

  She didn’t seem to mind one bit.

  The kissing became needy.

  Then desperate.

  Katie swallowed me. Scrapping her teeth along my shaft.

  Bringing me closer to the edge without going too far.

  The two women each a different rhythm.

  One swallowed me whole and spat me back out. Over and over.

  The other danced along the surface. Lips and tongue mingling, but not committing. Teasing without entirely meaning to.

  I leaned my backside against the mattress. The dissonant rhythms passed through my body, down to the core. A painful pleasure that unsettled as it soothed.

  Mandy pushed away from me. She panted. Eyes slitted, watching.

  I grabbed her by the hair and nudged the woman to her knees. She didn’t resist.

  Katie offered her my cock. I had no choice in the matter. My pleasure, and my orgasm, was out of my control. At least I was familiar with my wife’s touch. The way she licked, her patterns and preferences.

  But this stranger was a wild card.

  My heart-rate skyrocketed. My brain flooded with hormones. I twitched as Mandy wrapped her mouth around me. She swallowed me to the hilt and gagged. Only needed a second to catch her breath again and relax.

  And then they played tennis with my cock. One sucked the head, the other licked the balls. They took turns. One after the other. Slurping, gagging, sighing.

  Somewhere in that, Mandy took off her shirt and bra. She took control. Not quite pushing Katie out of the way, but taking longer and faster passes on me.

  My wife sat back on her heels, watching. She held my hand while her friend blew me. Mandy now used both her mouth and one hand.

  Up, down. Eyes closed.

  Harder. More violent.

  I was so close. I could feel it in my balls, rising to the tip, even gushing a little.

  I clutched Mandy’s wrist and grabbed a fistful of her hair. I had to make her stop.

  She almost didn’t. I pushed her away. So close.

  Mandy panted. Skin flushed, sweaty at the temples. She squeezed one of my thighs. Her smile was too cute for words.

  I patted the mattress. “Question of the night is, which one of you goes first?”

  “The guest, of course,” said Katie, winking. Who the wink was for, I wasn’t entirely sure.

  “Top or bottom?” I said.

  “Bottom,” said Mandy. I motioned for her to lay down. Instead she pressed her fingers into my biceps. On her tip-toes, she kissed me. “You on the bottom.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  I rolled over and laid on my back. My body was wired, as if on a caffeine high but much, much better. I shook at the knees and elbows in anticipation.

  Mandy grabbed my cock in one fist and straddled me. The motion was rough. She rubbed her clit for a few seconds. I throbbed painfully. Came close to begging.

  Her pussy was already wet. Glistening.

  Finally Mandy impaled herself on me. Katie was at my neck, kissing my collarbone and pinning one of my arms down.

  With my free hand, I clutched the bedsheets tight.

  Mandy started slow. Sliding up and down. One finger on her clit. Pinching a pink nipple with the other hand.

  Then faster. Rougher. Bouncing. Skin slapping on skin.

  My wife’s kisses became more intense. As if the women were working in tandem.

  They were.

  And I was a piece of meat. Ready to blow.

  But Mandy slowed down. Almost stopping.

  I moaned and writhed under her. I bucked under her.

  She didn’t respond. Just sat on me, like a queen on top of a horse. Eyes slitted. Lips parted.

  Mandy pressed a hand to my stomach and shoved her hips roughly against me. Downward. I stopped bucking.

  I had no control. She knew it too.

  She gyrated her hips. The pressure on my cock increased.

  Katie’s kisses went south, to my nipples. She grabbed a fistful of my hair, as if to hold my head in place. To make me look at this beautiful woman fucking me with no mercy.

  Mandy had me balls deep. I still didn’t entirely believe what was happening.

  The pounding increased. Her pussy dripped all over my member. The smell of two pussies—similar but distinct—filled my head.

  Making me dizzy.

  Faster yet. Mandy made desperate animal noises.

  Two hands on my chest now. Katie’s lips and tongue found my ear lobes.

  Slap. Slap. Slap.

  Faster.

  The bed squeaked.

  I felt it. The first glow just above my balls.

  “Oh God. Oh fuck. Fuck.”

  I couldn’t hold back much longer.

  Mandy doubled her effort. Grinding on me. Pumping me.

  “I’m gonna… Stop. Please. Please.”

  Mandy released me from her pussy with a wet plop. Out of the hole, back into her hand.

  She
stroked me. Didn’t take much.

  I exploded in her touch. A jet of semen sprayed her in the face.

  The rest of it landed on my stomach. Katie was nice enough to clean up after me with her tongue.

  All of us continued to make out, but at a much slower pace. I kissed both women, passionately, and played with both of their pussies.

  Mandy passed out first. I followed not longer after. I remember Katie being on my right, Mandy on the left.

  Close to noon the next day, I heard the front door slam. Mandy was still in my arms, snoring. I dozed off again.

  Later, I awoke. Mandy had shifted, and lightly played with my morning wood. I had no idea if she was awake or not.

  Piano music drifted from downstairs.

  GONE TO THE DOGS

  1

  The man rounded the corner, like clockwork. Every evening at seven o’clock, he walked his black pug in front of Kacy’s bungalow, her little piece of heaven.

  At first, she stared at him through the sheer curtains of her front dining room window. He nearly always wore cargo shorts, a plaid short sleeve shirt, tucked in of course, and sandals. At least he didn’t wear socks. The way he walked—strolled—through the subdivision, head slightly down, each step the same stride, keeping pace with his old dog… that’s what intrigued Kacy.

  He was reasonably tall, sure. And handsome in a rugged fashion. Not so dark, with mousy brown hair and freckles. But he strolled as if he didn’t care what anyone thought of his plaid shirt and pet pug.

  After a week or so of staring at him from inside like a creepster, Kacy made it a point to water her bushes when he walked past.

  As the summer grew hotter, she switched from jeans to skimpy shorts and t-shirts to form fitting tank tops. As her clothing choices got smaller, the more sideways his glances at her became. He always smiled nicely with big bright teeth, and said hello, but never glanced backwards when he walked away.

  Tonight, she wore a black and gold bikini and flip-flops.

  The humidity clung to her skin like a gauzy fabric. She made sure to have her back to him, watering hose in one hand, and screwed on the spray attachment. She bent over to pull a weed from her bush.

  Kacy blew a string of hair out of her face, her breath minty fresh. She had brushed her teeth not long ago.

  The pug snorted and wheezed. Kacy turned her head, and saw the man staring point blank at her backside. He blushed enough to hide his freckles and picked up his pace.

  “Hey, dude,” said Kacy.

  “Yes, neighbor?” he said. The pug pulled at the leash, anxious to be going. And then flopped down on the grass.

  “What do you think you’re gawking at?”

  “I’m… sorry. I’ll just be leaving.”

  “No. I want to know. What were you staring at?”

  He shrugged. “It’s nothing. Sorry.”

  “Stop saying sorry or I’m going to spray you.” Kacy lifted the hose, to make her point. She squeezed the trigger once, a thin jet of water gushed out.

  The man held up his free hand. “Whoa. Truce?”

  “Tell me your name.”

  “To report me to the police? No way.”

  “Maybe.” This time, Kacy shrugged. “I just want to know your name. You’ve walked by here enough. Can’t we be neighbors?”

  “Sure.”

  “Assuming we are neighbors. And you’re not some creepy stalker and your van is parked around the corner.”

  “Every stalker needs a sidekick,” he pointed to his now snoring pug. “Mine happens to be old and cranky.”

  “Cute dog,” said Kacy. “Mind if I pet him.”

  “Her. Her name’s Gertie.”

  “Hey there, Gertie.” Kacy knelt down and stroked the pug’s grey and wrinkled forehead. The dog opened her eyes, snorted, and raised her head. “Who’s a good doggie?”

  Gertie sniffed Kacy’s hand and laid her head back down.

  The man shifted his weight from foot to foot. He looked everywhere but at Kacy. She wasn’t entirely sure if his face was red from the heat, or for some other reason.

  “So,” he said at last. “What’s your name?”

  “Excuse me?” she said.

  “Just wanted to know your name.”

  “I asked you first. Only fair.”

  “I’m at a loss.”

  “Start talking,” Kacy held up the hose and took aim. “Or things will get nasty.”

  “You just want to get me wet,” he said.

  “Maybe.”

  “I’m sorry, but…”

  Kacy squeezed the trigger to half force and sprayed the guy in his chest. His plaid shirt turned a darker blue in two seconds. Gertie raised her head, letting out a grouchy bark.

  “Jesus, lady!” he said.

  “Is your name Jesus?” Kacy dropped the watering hose aside.

  “No. But close.”

  “Joshua?”

  “Give the woman a prize.”

  “I should spray you again for being snarky.”

  “You’d like that.”

  Kacy stood up. “Maybe.”

  “That your favorite word?”

  “Maybe.”

  “We’re at an impasse.”

  “How so?”

  “Two choices,” said Joshua. “Either I can walk away and never walk my dog down this street again.”

  Kacy didn’t like that choice. A lump formed in her throat. She hoped she hadn’t pushed Joshua away before getting to know him. She tossed the water hose aside and held her hands out in mock surrender.

  “Option number two?” Kacy said.

  “You invite me in for a nightcap,” he said.

  “Oh. Uh…” She was thrown off guard. This scenario hadn’t occurred to her when she daydreamed about this guy.

  Sure, she wore a bikini to get his attention. Now she had it, Kacy wasn’t sure she wanted it. And what if he really did have a van parked around the corner?

  What if he was just a nice guy?

  “Look,” Joshua said. “That was a lame come on. I’m sorry.”

  Kacy bent over, making sure he saw the length of her thigh, and picked up the watering hose again.

  “What did I say about the word sorry?” she said.

  “Not to say it? Sorry.”

  She sprayed him again. Lower this time, at the stomach. Rivulets dripped from his shirt to his shorts. He laughed. A hearty, good natured chuckled that started from his diaphragm. Kacy clasped a hand over her mouth, stifling her reaction, and ended up joining him anyway.

  She told him her name.

  “Come on,” Kacy said. “I’ll hang your shirt on my laundry line. So it’ll dry, of course.”

  Joshua tugged at his collar. “You sure about this?”

  Kacy turned away and headed toward the front door. She glanced back over one shoulder, tucking her hair over an ear.

  “Hurry up,” she said. “Before I change my mind.”

  2

  She hung the shirt on the line outside her patio door. Now the mystery man—Josh—sat on her sofa, bare-chested and barefoot. He had a finely toned body, not exactly chiseled, but well formed with flat abs and nicely shaped muscles.

  A shame to cover that with plaid.

  The pug had already fallen asleep on the floor, in front of Kacy’s TV, already snoring like a twenty pound freight train.

  She brought in two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey, the one from Gina’s bachelorette party a year ago. The bottle had sat unopened in Kacy’s cupboard the whole time.

  He smelled clean, like he’d just gotten out of the shower and thrown on some aftershave.

  “Is this how you normally pick up guys?” he said.

  “Naw,” Kacy poured drinks. “Thought I’d try something new. See where it went.”

  “Where is it going?”

  She handed him one of the shots.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s kind of early for a nightcap.”

  “Cheers.”

  “Cheerio
. Then.”

  They clinked glasses and drank. She tilted her head back, watching him from the corner of her eyes. Kacy suspected he was doing the same.

  She finished first. The alcohol burned all the way down. Kacy’s head twitched a little. He sipped his whiskey, and then tossed the rest down the hatch.

  And coughed.

  His entire body spasmed, head jerking, shoulders hunched.

  “You okay, sweetie?” said Kacy.

  “Wow,” he said. “Some poison.”

  “You wanted a nightcap.” She filled his glass with another dose.

  “To bad decision making.” Josh raised his glass.

  “Bad decisions.” She clinked glasses with him and they drank again.

  He tried to hide his reaction. He tilted his head, squeezing his eyes shut. It only had the effect of making him blush.

  Kacy found it cute.

  They sat on the couch, heads twitching. He coughed.

  “Hate to say it,” Josh said. “But I’m buzzed.”

  “Yeah,” said Kacy. “Now we’re properly inebr… inebria… fuck it.”

  “Intox…” he said. “Intoxic…”

  “Drunk and disorderly!”

  “Hell yes!”

  The pug raised her head. Her glassy eyes seemed to say, fuck you humans, keep it down, some of us are sleeping.

  Josh’s smile was loose and playful. Kacy couldn’t help but look down, below his neckline. She wasn’t drunk yet. Just enough to feel tipsy.

  That scared her and excited her at the same time. Like being in school again, uncertain of what to do, how to do it. Had it really been that long since her last fuck buddy?

  “You okay?” said Josh.

  “No,” said Kacy. “Yes.”

  “Way to send mixed signals.”

  “Sorry.” She took his glass away and set it on the coffee table.

  “Do I need to spray you?” said Josh. “With a watering hose. Totally what I meant.”

  She looked at him, checking her out. His eyes were soft and brown. Kind eyes. If a wee bit drunk and scattered at the moment.

  Josh moved, shifting his weight away from her. As if to stand. Kacy placed a hand on his wrist. His skin was warm to the touch. Smooth. Even the hair was smooth.

 

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