And then, just as I'd wanted, but still with a far greater abruptness than I could have imagined, my husband put his lips on mine, and I accepted him, and allowed my body to dissolve between the two men. They sandwiched me between themselves, and Zach came in behind me, sliding his lips across my neck, nibbling on my flesh after having abstained from it for so long, and pushing his erection into me from behind, getting me so worked up with desire for the two of them that I didn't know which way was up.
I loved being shared by them, my body twisted around as I was swapped from one set of lips to the other and then back again, hands washing all over me, fingers sinking into my flesh, tongues lapping and gouging into whatever slick surface they could find, and my head, all the while spinning, unable to gain control of itself, yet not wholly wishing to if I was completely honest with myself.
Before long, the two of them brought me over to the bed, and began to peel me out of my clothes, their fingers dancing along my body as they denuded me, article after article of my attire sinking to the floor, leaving my almost naked body sensitized and trembling as they continued to assert themselves against me, almost to a degree that was smothering.
Then, something I might never have anticipated started happening. The two men, both shirtless and slick all over now, were leaning across my shaking body, kissing one another overtop of me, the two of them displaying a bisexual side that I had never before even imagined could be lurking beneath either of their surfaces, but which I can guarantee you I welcomed with arms wide open.
I watched them for some time as they made out on top of me, tongues at all, and I reached into my panties, rubbing myself all the while I gazed in astonishment at their performance.
Finally, the two men pulled apart their compressed cheeks, and turned their intentions instead to little old me, masturbating to the sight of the two of them. Like predatory beasts, then, they were on me, finishing the job they'd started by peeling me the remainder of the way out of my lingerie, the straps and the lace fluttering in a heap to the floor, and their own pants and underwear diminishing as well, so that all three of us were naked as newborns, and I was left to grapple with the twin blades of my two men's long, hard, swaying cocks.
They climbed on top of me, wrapping me up in their flesh, genitals crossing and bodies twisting, melting, knotting together, lips latching onto whatever we could grab, the whole scene one of sweaty, sexy, fuzzy holiday cheer in the truest sense.
Before long, the three of us had our heads between one another's legs, each bowed down, and orally pleasuring whoever the next person in the circuit happened to be, in a most agonizing of daisy chains. My spine arched, and my legs wrapped around my husband's head as he ate my pussy for me, doing a far better job of it than he's done in years, as though perhaps he'd been taking lessons from Zach in the meantime. Zach, then, had his erection in my mouth, dipping it in and out, my tongue slithering around him as I struggled to concentrate on the task at hand, and Zach, meanwhile, sucking on my husband's penis in turn, a notion which turned me on like you wouldn't believe.
Even more, arousing, then, was the fact that soon, I could hear my husband coming, spilling his load into Zach's young, fresh mouth, and this thought, in turn, got me so fucking hot that I began to orgasm as well. My body shook, my limbs trembled, as the sensations pushed through me, almost more than I could withstand as I screamed at the top of my lungs, and yet I knew that I had one hell of a lot more to get through before all was said and done.
The three of us disentangled ourselves and, with my husband's cock spent for a few minutes, Zach climbed up on top of me for the first time in days, to have a good run at me while Bryan recuperated.
My young studly lover mounted me, pushing my legs up and pinning my knees around my ears, then proceeding to plow me relentlessly, pushing his hard cock deeper into my body than I could recall him ever having reached, so that before long, the friction was mounting again, and I was screaming at the top of my lungs, “Oh God, oh God, yes, yes, yes!” Sweat was rolling in torrents along my dark flesh, soaking the sheets and causing an immense pool to form around me, my fingers curling for dear life into the fabric of the bedspread, as Zach fucked and fucked and slammed his body into me for what felt like an eternity.
I was growing exhausted in spite of myself, and in spite of how very much I loved this, but I knew, regardless, that there was to be no end oncoming for my sweet, sweet torment, because Bryan had gotten hard again since Zach started fucking me, and I could see in his eyes that this final positioning would be a greater challenge for me than ever.
Sure enough, there was one last twisting and unraveling of bodies, and I was straddling my husband, his cock grinding in and out of my pussy from beneath, working me up good, and Zach, then, climbing to the top of the pile, his weight bearing down on me, and my body only about half ready for what was about to happen next.
He spread me wide open, and then pushed his cock once more into me, sliding it up my cunt from above atop my husband's own stiff dick, stretching me out as he pushed himself all the way inside me, and the two men's combined immensity almost entirely too much for me to handle.
And the duo proceeded to fuck the Christmas lights out of me, slamming their bodies as hard as they could into my own, stuffing me full to bursting, pushing, squeezing, thrusting, and the three of us groaning, all of our genitals sliding together and setting our loins on fire, the heat, the sweat, the noise, all of it so staggering and beautiful that it was almost impossible to believe.
And finally, with a last, drastic series of thrusts, the two of them began to ejaculate inside me, drenching me all over with their love, filling me to the brim and coating one another's still thrusting masculinities in their essence, and setting me over the edge.
And God did the Christmas bells ring in my ears this time, climax drilling through me, causing every muscle to tense, every nerve to light up, my body quivering uncontrollably, my mind spinning, and my cries of sheer, perverse, splendid pleasure enough to get me transferred promptly over onto Santa's naughty list.
And at last, at long, long last, the three of us pulled apart, collapsing on the bed in an exhausted heap, and all three of us laughing, none of us totally able to believe what it was we'd just done.
And as we laid there, kissing and caressing one another for hours on end in the afterglow, not to mention having sex a few more times, I knew that, whatever this was, it spelled an entirely new milestone for my marriage, and for my life as a whole, and somehow, that gave me the hope I'd been seeking out for so very long. I felt endlessly grateful for having a husband who would be willing to do something like this for his wife, and I was thankful as hell that I was wrapped up in the arms of two amazing men to keep me warm at night this holiday season.
I couldn't even imagine what they had in store for me for Valentine's Day...
THE END
Ghosts Inside
Chapter 1
Rita stormed into her editor’s office and threw down the e-mail she had printed out.
“Let me call you back,” he said, and placed the phone down. He made a steeple with his hands and sighed, looking at her wearily. It wasn’t the first time she had made a gesture like this and he was sure that it wouldn’t be the last. Rita was glowering at him and refused to sit down when he offered. She had her hands on her hips and her flaming hair accentuated her anger. Her heart-shaped face was screwed up and her eyes shot daggers at him.
“You can’t keep giving me this crap,” she said. Steve leaned forward and picked up the paper she had thrown down straightening it out and then laying it flat on his desk so that it was in line with everything else. Everything in the office had its proper place and he hated chaos, and Rita was chaos personified.
“What’s wrong now Rita? I give you these assignments because I think you’re capable of doing them. Why are you never happy with the work I give you?”
“Because it’s all crap! You never give me the good stuff. What about that exposé on the c
harity using profits to go and gamble in Vegas? Of course Rick gets that yet again.” As she mentioned Rick she rolled her eyes. He always got the best assignments.
“Rick has a proven track record at these sorts of things. I trust him with them.”
“That’s because you always give them to him! How am I ever going to get a proven track record if I never get a chance?”
“I did give you a chance, with the pet grooming service that were using drugs to make the pets appear to be in better condition, and look how that turned out,” he calmly reminded her. Rita’s furious temper calmed somewhat as she was reminded of this and she slumped down into the chair. She pushed her hair back away from her forehead and tapped her fingers against the armrest. Steve clenched his jaw and tried not to say anything, but the noise was irking him yet he knew if he said anything it would only provoke her, and she was in a bad enough mood already.
“Yes, well, that wasn’t really my fault I was just trying to reveal the truth.”
“You are a journalist, not a cop. You’re job isn’t to capture these people, it’s to write articles about them so we can inform our readers. It’s not difficult. I don’t know why you always want to make it so complicated.”
“I’m just trying to make a difference here. And we all make mistakes. I don’t think I deserve to be benched with all this stuff just because I messed up once.” She stopped tapping and Steve breathed a sigh of relief, but then she started playing with the things on Steve’s desk, rearranging them in small ways.
“Would you mind not doing that,” he said, reaching over and placing a hand on hers. She made an apologetic face.
“Look,” he continued, “you’re a good reporter and I’m glad you’re a part of this team but sometimes you can get a little too…enthusiastic. I simply can’t trust you with the big stories because you want to become the story but you can’t do that. You have to remain objective and separate. Once you can prove to me you can do that then I’ll start giving you more serious work. At the moment though, this is the way it has to be. You’ve got the talent but you have to back that up and show me what you’re made of. Do a good job on this and we can talk about things. That’s the best I can do.”
Rita scowled but she had no way to retort. She rose and grabbed the e-mail from his hands.
“I’m going to do the best damn job on this and you’re going to see what I’m capable of,” she growled.
“I hope you do, all I want is your best work,” he said, and raised his eyebrows. After she left he breathed a sigh of relief and shook his head, then picked up his phone and resumed the call that had been interrupted.
Meanwhile, Rita slammed the door behind her and stormed through the office. People stood aside as they saw that she was on the warpath. She had been working there long enough for them to know when to avoid her. She sat down at her desk and slammed her palms on the desk, causing it to jump, and some coffee spilled. It scalded her thigh and she cursed before taking a deep breath in an effort to calm herself down.
“Went well then?” Marie said. She was sitting at the desk opposite Rita.
“Oh yeah, swell,” Rita said.
“I’m guess you couldn’t switch the assignments.”
“Nope. Rick gets all the best ones because he’s the best apparently. Even though his writing sends me to sleep. I think I’m in the wrong place. Nobody here wants to take any risks it’s all just writing the same thing day after day. Now I’m stuck interviewing ghost hunters. I mean what kind of crap is that?! Do people still believe in this stuff?”
“You know you shouldn’t be so dismissive. There are things out there that we can’t understand.”
“Only for the naïve and delusional people. I’m sure ghosts have better things to do than wander around abandoned houses scaring people. Sheesh, if I was a ghost that would be the last thing I would want to do.”
“What would you do then?”
“I have no idea. I wouldn’t be a ghost in the first place. They don’t exist!” She threw her hands up and angrily tapped at the keyboard, the keys clacking in machine gunfire staccato. Marie smirked and shook her head in amusement.
“But if you were Rita, just humor me.” Rita exhaled and took a break from typing.
“I don’t know, presumably if I was a ghost I’d be caught between worlds so there would have to be another world for me to explore. I’d probably go there. It would have to be more exciting than hanging around the same old places. But if I was stuck here then I don’t know, I’d go sneak into some movies, or Ryan Gosling’s house. Yeah, actually, that’s a place I think I could haunt for a while.” Both women had far-off looks in their eyes as they thought about the gorgeous movie star. They sighed, and smiled at each other.
“One day I’ll meet him and have his babies,” Marie said.
“You’ll have to fight me off first,” Rita playfully teased, before furrowing her brow as she looked at her assignment once more. “I don’t know how I’m going to write this seriously. I can’t believe he wants me to write it as if these people really are hunting ghosts. I am not in the mood to have to listen to their lies. Do you think they actually believe in what they’re doing?”
Marie shrugged. “I have no idea. I guess it’s like psychics, a lot of them are con artists but I’m sure there are many of them who actually believe in what they do. People enjoy it though, it’s not like anyone is forced to watch the show.”
“No, but if it’s fake they should admit it. Too many people take it at face value and the people they get on there, I mean, they make a lot of money off this I think it is bad form to lie to their fans.”
“Welcome to showbiz, what do you expect? That’s the nature of the beast. Please don’t go on a crusade this time. It’s not going to do you any good, and you’re not going to uncover some grand conspiracy here. Even if you do prove them as frauds people aren’t going to stop believing in ghosts, and ten other shows about ghost hunters are going to replace it. Just do yourself a favor and do what Steve asked. You know he’s right. If you just did the stuff he assigned and didn’t put your own…unique spin on it you’d be getting to do the things you want to do. I just think he wants to know that you can actually tow the line and not go off and do your own thing.”
“You’re probably right,” Rita admitted, “I suppose it can’t hurt. At least if I do this I’ll be able to find out for sure what these people use to make all the different effects. Guess we all have to pay our dues. If I get through this I can write proper stories. And it’s not like I’ll have to actually meet a ghost.”
Chapter 2
Rita still wasn’t enthused by the assignment but she was more at peace with it. It meant that she was out of the office for a while, which was always a good thing as she hated the office life. When she had initially tried being a writer she wanted to be a novelist, traveling around the world and writing about her experiences but that hadn’t worked out and she’d fallen into journalism, which was fine but it meant that she was often stuck behind a desk. This assignment required her to go to the outskirts of the state to the small town of August Cove. She had never heard of it before and she didn’t expect much, but her face still fell when she reached it because it looked like an abandoned, well, she hated to use this word to describe it but it looked like a ghost town. She drove her car though the main street and peered out of the windshield to try and see any signs of life. Doors hung off buildings, signs were askew, paint had faded off the storefronts and it all looked incredibly sad.
She looked down and glanced at the address she had been given. It wasn’t easy to figure out given that she couldn’t even figure out which street she was on, so she ended up pulling over at the gas station. The tires crunched gravel as it slowed to a halt and she shut the door with a dull thud as she went up and banged on the door. She peered through the dusty window but couldn’t see anything, and was about to give up when a face appeared, making her jump back in shock. The door opened and a small man with a gaunt face peered a
t her through dull, lifeless blue eyes. He scratched his head and looked at her, almost in complete surprise that anyone was passing through the town.
“Ya?” he asked. Rita pursed her lips.
“I’m trying to find this place. Can you help me get there?” she thrust the piece of paper in front of him and he looked at it carefully, bringing it right up to his nose. For a moment Rita almost wondered if he could read at all. Eventually he shook his head.
“No, don’t go there,” he said.
“But I have to.”
He shook his head again.
“Look, you don’t understand. I’m a reporter. It’s my job. I have to go there.
“Night terrors live there. Everyone else left. Bad news up there. Lots of bad things.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed heavily. Then an idea came to her.
“Okay, listen. I’m here to get rid of the night terrors, okay? I’m going up there to get rid of them. Then all the people will come back. But I need your help to get there. Can you please just tell me which road I need to take?”
The man’s face lit up as she mentioned that she was going to save him. He took the paper again and then told her to follow the main road around, then once she reached the old treehouse to take the left fork and that would lead her to where she wanted to go. She thanked him and he went back into the dank and dingy shop. She wondered how he managed to survive in that place, and whether he was the only person there for it seemed like the rest of the town was deserted. Still, that wasn’t any of her concern. She got back in the car and drove through, going slowly so that she could keep an eye out for the old treehouse. She passed through the edge of town and then came upon a fork in the road. She assumed that must be the place even though there wasn’t a treehouse, but then she looked to one side and saw that some debris was scattered around the trunk of the tree. She naturally assumed that the treehouse had been wrecked in the storm, and it illustrated the state of the town, devastated. She hated the idea that people had left this place because of some ridiculous notion of ghosts for it seemed a shame, but she had to temper her ire and remind herself that she wasn’t there to prove that these ghost hunters were frauds, she was only there to write a story about them.
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