by Hazel Parker
And he began to pump, to thrust, to hump and to fuck, grinding his pelvis around and up into me in a manner that was almost mechanical in nature. I savored it, the churning, rhythmic sliding of his erection through my pussy, stirring me up, pushing my insides around with a pleasant, agonizing squelching that was almost too sweet for words.
I was really moaning this time, my breasts jiggling and my breath becoming painful in my present position, as further and further and further he tormented me, his pace getting more and more vigorous as the intercourse wore on.
Now, Lord help me, he was really beginning to tear into me, pounding my pussy with a vigor, a brutality, almost, that was far beyond what this had been when he'd first slid inside. His cock stuttered into me like a damn jackhammer with the force of his thrusts, smashing like mad into the hot meat of my pussy, pounding and pulsing and smacking like wild.
“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I moaned, tilting my head back and staring up at the ceiling as though praying to it to get me through this intact.
Harder and harder and harder he came cracking down into my body, sensations mounting with each suctioned pulling in and out, in and out, in and out of me. Friction began to burn beautifully between my legs, and I almost felt like crying as this sweet, dreadful punishment of my body wore on.
KLAP! KLAP! KLAP! KLAP! KLAP! echoed the sound of our smacking, wet genitals, his testicles slapping wildly into me as he stuttered like wild, my moans turning into screams, and the room seeming to grow brighter and brighter by the minute as he ripped me to damn shreds.
And finally, with one last, brutal slam he hurled his body into me, holding himself in place, and sending us both flying over the edge like wild.
He filled me up, coating my insides with a thick quantity of his hot, smoldering seed, pulse after pulse after pulse of the sticky, glorious stuff, so much that it began to drip back out of me, and I was set once more into the territory of the positively orgasmic.
I screamed, and moaned, and swooned harder than ever for this absolute sexpot, my body reacting to sex as it had not done for years, or ever, perhaps, sensations crackling through me so sweetly that I could barely even stand it.
And at last, as he pulled out of me, and wrapped me up in his arms, I began to feel complete. And even then, as the two of us kissed and caressed one another in the afterglow of our long dormant love, I wondered what the hell I was going to end up doing to myself in attempting such an absurd feat as this...
3
The next several weeks were, to put it very mildly, something of an almost dizzying balancing act for me. I was managing, somehow to keep separate my two lives, the one with Justin and the one with Mark, the possibility of them crossing at any moment robbing me of sleep fairly regularly, so that I really had no idea how long I could sustain this.
There were so many things to worry about, and I didn't know which I feared worse- the possibility that Mark could leave me if he found out, or that Justin would leave me if he knew the truth about my life.
Of course, there was also the potential that both men would ditch me like yesterday's news if their roles in my life ever happened to intersect, and it was this possibility that I kept hidden in my mind more than anything else. I didn't even want to fathom that at that point in time, and I therefore did my damnedest to keep it as buried deep within me as possible.
The fact of the matter was, though, that I really didn't have any sort of preference as to which of the men I could more easily shed from my life if things ended up going south. And that was because, frankly, I didn't really think I could reasonably live without either of them.
I mean, Mark, of course, was the one I should have been more worried about losing. Aside from being my only means of financial support, the two of us had built something very much resembling a life together, as well as an emotional connection that I wasn't at all ready to just throw out the window like it was nothing.
Hell, for all I knew, this could all just be a phase, something to make my way through and then forget about, pretend that it never happened in the first place. Reasonably, then, in that case, Justin should be the one I quietly wrote out of my life, giving him the truth he deserved and regaining my normal, humdrum life in the process.
But I felt as though I couldn't really shed myself of Justin, either, to be honest... Like, our connection may not have been as deep of one, but there was a certain intensity to it... A certain something, of a nature which I can't even really describe all the way, that made him almost crucial to my life in its present state.
Justin was the meaning that I'd needed for some time now, and losing him seemed as devastating a prospect as losing Mark himself.
Think poorly of me if you will, but I felt as though both of these men were now crucial to who I was, and I therefore took pristine care to avoid the two of them ever accidentally encountering one another in my presence.
Mark, for his part, seemed not to suspect a thing throughout the course of the affair. By and large, he remained just about as busy as he'd ever been working at the office, at home seldom enough that he tended not to notice my absences, or the changes in my mood that tended to result from my, ahem, “meetings” with his cuckolder.
Justin, though, was a bit more difficult to fool. He never directly accused me of anything, exactly, and never seemed to indicate on any overt level that he had any sort of suspicion.
But, the fact remained that he would have had to have been about as dumb as a post not to have at least guessed something was amiss. I had had to invent a job for myself to explain away the source of my income, and I insisted, no matter what, that our rolls in the hay could only ever take place at his own place. I told him I had personal reasons for this, and he didn't object, but I think the fact that I could only ever meet him in the daytime truly got him suspicious, given that I was never able to spend the night or stick around past, say, 5:00 or so.
And gradually, with the accumulation of all these factors, I began to lose track of my own lies layered up on top of one another, unable to keep them sorted, and routinely tripping over my tongue whenever I tried to excuse my erratic actions to one party or another.
I knew, sooner, or later, that things would come crashing in around me...
And yet, no matter how readily aware of this fact I may have been, I seemed completely unwilling to change my pattern of actions, given that I had no real earthly notion of what I could change, which wire I could cut in order for things to work out the way I needed them to.
And of course, I was, in fact, found out in the end, although it was by no means in a manner I might have suspected...
I had stepped into Mark and I's home one day, thinking I was completely alone, only to find myself alarmed by the sudden presence of Justin seated on the living room sofa.
“Shit...” I said upon seeing him, stunned, and my mind reeling for what the hell I could possibly say to him at this juncture. “Look, I... I don't know what you think...”
“I know everything,” he said calmly, without even the faintest trace of emotion in his voice. “I know about Mark, your lying to me, all of it...”
“God, I... I don't know what to say... How- how did you...?”
“Well, you were never really that convincing, in retrospect... I felt from the beginning that you had something you were concealing from me, but I wanted to respect your privacy, so I just decided not to dig into it any. That is, until I ran into your friend Clarissa on the street, and she happened to make mention of a person named Mark in your life...”
“Oh God... God... God...”
“And so I went and talked to this Mark today. I was careful about what I said at first, but then I felt like I just had to reveal the truth in the end. I was actually quite surprised with how he responded to the knowledge.”
“I- I...” My head was spinning, and for the damn life of me I couldn't find the words to respond to the information being given to me, particularly as it was being delivered in so cool and dispassionate a
fashion. “What did he say?” I managed to at last spit out.
And then, my heart practically skipped a beat, as suddenly Mark himself stepped from behind a corner, staring at me with an almost tangible lust in his eyes, and a devastating, lascivious grin across his face.
“I really don't mind you having a little bit of fun every now and then, you know...” he said, sauntering up to me, and my entire body heating up and my anatomy beginning to quiver in frightened anticipation of what was about to happen, whatever the hell that may have been...
“But,” he continued, shocking the hell out of me, “it would have been nice if you'd have thought to include me in it too, you know?”
My jaw practically hit the floor at this...
Was this... Was this...
Was what I thought was happening really, truly, honest to God happening?
And sure enough, I was suddenly being given a taste of my two men's secret, bisexual, polyamorous streak, their bodies closing in around me, and their lips plummeting down onto me like wild in a frenzy of activity.
I couldn't believe it... I couldn't even begin to process it...
The three of us, without warning, were beginning to make out, the early stages of a ménage a trois unfolding right there in the middle of my living room, completely unexpected, unprecedented, and now, more wonderful than anything I might ever have imagined.
Mark's lips were on mine, my lips were on Justin's, and then, shockingly, mind-bendingly, Justin's lips were back around on Mark's. I watched them awe as they locked lips and swapped spit, kissing in a manner that I would never have suspected them of being able to do with other men.
And then, inevitably, the cycle came back around to me, completing the hot, sticky, agonizing circuit, and sending me reeling through the roof with pleasure.
The three of us tore through the house like a twister, all three suddenly overtaken with lust and enthusiasm, unable to get enough of one another no matter how hard we tried. I could feel them, as they pressed themselves up against me, hardening, driving me wild with their erections, making me want them, making me burn for them in a way that you wouldn't damn believe.
And a moment later, we were in the bedroom, our clothes dissolving down along our bodies, vanishing like liquid, and the two of them wrapping their naked, heaving, sweaty selves around me.
Justin stood behind me, running kisses along my neck, grinding his boner between the cheeks of my ass, and driving me insane with desire for him. And Mark, meanwhile made out with me in front, squeezing on my tits, my sandwiched anatomy nearly dissolving into a puddle in between the two of them.
And slowly, I slid myself down, down, down into a squatting position, removing the obstacle of my flesh from between the two of them, and giving them space to lean in toward one another.
Draping themselves over me, they began to kiss one another once again, and I did them the courtesy of seizing hold of their penises while they made out above, stroking, caressing, masturbating, savoring the melting of their shafts through my fingers with each hard, powerful snap of my wrist.
I parted my jaws wide, and began to suck on both of them, swapping back and forth, back and forth, back and forth from one cock to the other, deep throating them, choking myself, feeling driven insane as I tried to keep up with my own established rhythm.
Fluids began to roll humiliatingly down my throat as I sucked and popped and switched between the two men, my head bobbing wildly, almost painfully, and their erections, all the while, becoming coated in a sticky, gooey accumulation of saliva- the only lubrication I would be receiving through this, as it just so happened...
For a brief spell, I was bent over, and taken from behind by Mark, who thrusted into my body like an animal, almost violently at points, each of his passing thrusts knocking me forward into Justin, who was on his knees in front of me, his cock being steadily rammed down my throat, choking me quite beautifully.
When the men had had their fill of this, finally, I was at last double penetrated by my two lovers, a punishment as sweet as I could possibly have imagined as I was draped out on top of Mark's splayed body like a blanket.
He pushed his cock up inside me, grinding through my pussy from below, his one erection already going quite a long way in stretching me out in a sweet, painful fashion. And then, Lord help me, Justin climbed up on top of the pile, mounting me from above, his added weight a devastatingly beautiful thing as I struggled to breathe between the two men's anatomies.
He plunged himself inside, grinding his hot, fat cock into my pussy atop of Mark's own, their shafts grinding together and driving me wild from the eroticism of it.
At last, he touched down as well, and the two of them began to pump into my body, grinding and thrusting and fucking from both angles, stretching out my cunt in a manner that was absolutely mind-blowing. They grunted and smashed and slammed into my body, popping and pushing and pounding with a force that was doubly agonizing.
I began to squeal, to moan, to cry out at the top of my lungs, my pussy smashed to bits by the combined force of this bouquet of penises inside me, any lack of wholeness I might have felt prior to now presently filled and overwhelmed by the sweet, sweet abundance of love being smacked into my system in that moment.
“Oh God, oh God, oh yes, oh yes, oh yes!” I moaned, as at last the two smashed at full force inside of me, striking me to my deepest, most concealed core, tearing me apart, and overflowing into my body.
The two men began to ejaculate, their hot, sticky cum inundating one another's still thrusting shafts with decadent, molten sperm. They continued shifting and pumping of their shafts through this gooey, liquid ether was entirely too much for me, and I began to climax like wild, savoring the fact of being filled up to the brim by these sweet, sweet bastards.
And as I skyrocketed through the heavens of my delight, I began to wonder how it was that I had ever felt incomplete. I felt ecstatic and satisfied as I now was in the overabundance of these two men's combined, mutual love for me.
It wouldn't be for a couple of months until I found out I was pregnant, and uncertain as to which of the two current lovers was the child's true father- but, I suppose, that's another story entirely...
*****
THE END
Dirty Sins
God, why the hell is it so hot in here? I felt on the verge of melting clean out of my clothes, into a wet, sticky puddle on the floor. Every inch of my skin was prickling uncomfortably, flaring up, making me feel as though my entire body was on fire. Perspiration was running down along my neck, seeping into my blouse, and dripping tantalizingly down along my spine.
I kept walking past the damn thermostat every time I happened to be in its vicinity, thinking for certain one of these times or another I would spot it turned up ridiculously high, or else simply broken. But every time I laid eyes on its face, it was like the damn thing was just making fun of me.
The temperature set at such a reasonable level that it should have been impossible to break out in a sweat. On some level, it was baffling and frustrating as hell, but honestly, it wasn't like I didn't know the true cause of what I was going through.
I didn't know how much longer I could suffer through this though. There was only so much of this torment a girl could take before things started getting intense, physical, spiraling out of her control. I mean, I sure as hell hadn't asked to be put in that situation, and really, what girl in her right mind would?
It was getting harder and harder, as the minutes ticked by, to maintain any semblance of composure whatsoever. And I feared, in my disheveled, maddened state of being, that sooner or later I would be completely unable to avoid giving myself and my seedy, inappropriate thoughts away to the devilishly attractive guest in the living room.
I just had to focus, I knew; I had to move through this thing carefully in order to avoid falling into the many traps set before me. I stared out the kitchen window for a moment into the darkening evening, the sun getting dimmer and dimmer at a rapid speed, and
the mood becoming an even hazier, sensual one.
I turned, suddenly, almost ridiculously, shooting my head around to each side over my shoulders, thinking for certain that he was there, right behind me, leering at me, undressing me with his eyes, much as I'd done with his own incredible physique so many times in my own mind throughout the course of the evening.
But of course, he was nowhere to be found. Of course, he wasn't. I felt like he was one of those damn paintings, the ones where their eyes followed you around the room. Anywhere I went while he was under this roof, I felt certain I would feel him, boring into me with his eyes, penetrating me to my core, seeing so thoroughly into myself that there was nothing left to conceal.
And hell, even if I did happen to survive the evening until he made his way out the door, I had no reason to suspect that that feeling would go away. The prickling beneath my skirt, the goosebumps erupting across my skin, the sweat soaking me, and the feeling of an intimidating, looming presence lingering on and on and on.