Chemical [se]X

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Chemical [se]X Page 10

by Неизвестный


  I cleared our dishes and left them sitting by the sink and called out to Nate to grab the dessert plates from the china cabinet. I made sure that my cake looked flawless one last time, then delivered it on its crystal platter into the dining room.

  “Wow, look at that. It looks like art,” Troy said as I placed it on the table in front of the two men. I smiled at the compliment and my creation before cutting into it to serve Troy, my husband, and myself a generous serving.

  Nate and Troy let their pieces sit for a minute while they chatted some more about work and sipped the remainder of their wine leftover from dinner but I dug right in. I practically moaned when the first forkful entered my mouth. It was sinfully delicious and I couldn’t get it in my mouth fast enough. It wasn’t until the forth bite or so that I began to feel…strange.

  My entire body suddenly felt flush and I heard my breathing change. A thin sheen of sweat formed on my brow and when I shifted in my chair I audibly gasped. That small movement sent a thrill through me, starting between my legs and coursing towards the tips of my fingers.

  “Are you okay, sweetie?” Nate asked me. Our eyes met and then mine were drawn down to his lips. Suddenly I was picturing them kissing up my thigh until his tongue snaked out and licked me right up my-

  “Yes, of course,” I stammered and took a gulp of water from the glass sitting in front of me. “The cake,” I continued, “it’s just so good.” I stuffed another forkful into my mouth and felt my nipples tighten.

  Nate and Troy both laughed and then Troy said, “Well, I better dig in and see what the fuss is about.”

  I watched him pick up his fork and was immediately mesmerized by Troy’s hands. My god, his hands were amazing. Long fingers, neatly trimmed nails and I wanted them all over me; visions of them squeezing my breasts and slapping my ass, turning it as red as the cherries in the cake, made me dizzy. I squeezed my legs together and stifled a groan. My panties were wet.

  My attention was diverted towards my husband who had just hummed in appreciation after taking his first bite of cake.

  “Wow, honey. Every time you make this, I swear it gets better.”

  At least that’s what I think he said. I can’t be sure because all I could focus on was his mouth and the way it moved as he ate and the way his tongue peeked out to lick the leftover chocolate on his lips. I wanted his lips licking me.

  Another bite of cake and I was back to looking at Troy who was pulling the fork from between his lips. I was certain my chest was heaving with each breath I took and had to swipe my napkin across my forehead, I was sweating so badly. What the hell was happening?

  From my left, Nate cleared his throat and my eyes flew to his direction. I could see his face was a bit flushed and he shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable. Was he feeling it now, too? I couldn’t think on it too long because Troy suddenly exhaled loudly and I found his eyes staring at me, particularly at my chest. I looked down and noticed my erect nipples were visible through my dress and I felt my face get even hotter with embarrassment. The feeling didn’t linger however, for it was quickly replaced again by the aching need to slide my hand up my skirt and give my throbbing clit some relief. I forced myself to take the final bite of my dessert and as I did I looked at the two men sitting with me again. They were both very handsome and I wanted to do very naughty things with them both. What was I thinking? This was my husband and his boss, for goodness sake! I grabbed my dish and told the men to finish up while I started on cleaning.

  I wet my hands at the kitchen sink and placed them on the back of my neck. Even though they were cool, the touch of my own hands on my skin was overwhelming and my entire body started to tingle again, the feeling between my legs becoming even more unbearable. Unable to control myself any longer I leaned over, propping myself up on the edge of the sink with one hand and ran the other up my skirt. My index finger barely grazed my panties and my knees buckled. I hoped the running water was loud enough to cover up the sound I made.

  I only just made one lazy circle around my clit when I heard, “Oh fuck,” from behind me and I spun around. My husband was standing there, a huge bulge in the front of his pants and a wild look in his eyes. He moved towards me and attacked, his hands rough all over my body, his mouth hard on mine.

  “I have to have you,” he gasped. “Now.”

  My hand went immediately for his cock and I stroked him over the fabric of his pants while he turned me and then lifted me on to the kitchen table. His hands slid up my thighs and under my dress. My skin was on fire. I felt as if I were glowing with the electricity running through me. We moaned into each others’ mouths as he began to run his fingers through my wet slit.

  My panties were torn from between my legs and I reclined back, resting on my elbows to watch as Nate yanked up the hem of my dress. I wasn’t even thinking about Troy in the dining room as my husband began to feast on me, his tongue making long licks through my pussy.

  “Fuck, Nate,” I breathed. “Yes.”

  He drew my clit between his lips and sucked. As I started to come, finally, gloriously, he slid two fingers inside me and curled, my swollen bud getting massaged both inside and out. I flooded his mouth while he groaned in approval. That’s when I noticed though hazy eyes that we weren’t alone. At some point Troy had entered the kitchen and he was watching us from the doorway. He was also stroking the front of his trousers.

  If I had been in my right mind, I would have been mortified and stopped the whole debacle that was happening in my kitchen. But I wasn’t in my right mind and so I stared at Troy, a seductive smile on my face as my husband continued to go down on me. Troy stood there, still watching, still rubbing himself and it was the most erotic thing I had ever seen. That is, until he unzipped and pulled his cock out. My eyes were glued to his hand, wrapped tightly around his dick, stroking himself as he watched Nate and me. He kept his movements slow and deliberate, his hand sliding up and down his erection at a steady pace while he stared at us. Finally, a stream of thick, white come covered his hand and the sight of that set me over the edge once again. Still, I wanted more.

  I instructed my husband to lead us to the bedroom and it was merely seconds before I was naked on our bed on my hands and knees. Nate teased me a bit by running his cock through my wet folds before sliding himself inside me. Troy, who had also stripped bare, stood against the wall, watching us once again. Though he had already come, his cock was still hard. He wasn’t touching himself this time, though, just watching my husband fuck me, his eyes half closed and his mouth slightly open. I beckoned him to me.

  Without hesitation, Troy climbed on to the bed and kneeled in front of me. There was no hesitation on my part either and I took him in my mouth with a satisfied moan. He tasted delicious. The reality of what was occurring barely registered but I was turned on beyond imagination. My husband’s cock was sliding in and out of my pussy, his boss’s cock was in my mouth and I didn’t feel the least bit shameful. I felt like a sex goddess and I was well on my way to orgasm number three.

  Every one of my senses was heightened, and the sounds of two men groaning as they pleasured me was almost too much to take. Troy’s hand tightened in my hair while Nate’s connected with my ass, alternately slapping my cheek and then rubbing the sting away. I felt my body begin to rock, back to take Nate’s cock deeper and then forward to suck more of Troy. We found a rhythm and continued for what seemed like hours.

  I found myself wanting, needing, more. I replaced my mouth on Troy’s cock with my hand and looked to my husband over my shoulder.

  “I want you both,” I told him. “I want you both to fuck me.”

  He nodded.

  I guided Troy so that he lay on the bed and as I moved to straddle him Nate’s hand slid between my legs, spreading the wetness back. His fingers gently probed my ass as I took Troy inside, rolling my hips as he groaned and palmed my breasts. His fingers pinched and pulled at my nipples while my husband eased a finger into my puckered rear entrance. I cried out and leane
d forward.

  My mouth found Troy’s and I kissed him passionately, sucking his tongue and then biting his bottom lip, continuously moaning as I felt Nate start to ease his cock into my ass. He stretched me slowly, moving in one inch at a time until he was fully inside. The feeling of having both of them in me, so full in both places, was more than overwhelming. All I could do was bury my face in the crook of Troy’s neck and let them take over. I whimpered in sweet agony as Nate fucked me from behind and Troy began lifting his hips from the bed. I felt four hands on me, running up my back, caressing my ass, stroking my hair. The scent of testosterone and sex filled my nostrils and I could taste both my husband and Troy on my tongue. Their erotic groans mixed in with my softer cries echoed off the walls of our bedroom and just a few more thrusts and I was coming again, this time over and over and over. It didn’t seem to end but just continued to circuit through me, more than I could take. Soon I felt both men tense, their bodies going taut as they pulsed inside me, panting from their own releases.

  I felt drunk as I was moved once again, this time between both Nate and Troy and they both indulged me in post coital caresses. My eyes closed and I drifted off to sleep as two mouths kissed my hips, my shoulders, and my breasts, and four hands softly stroked the skin of my thighs and belly.

  I woke several hours later, my brain fuzzy and my mouth parched. Troy was nowhere to be seen but my husband lay next to me, quietly snoring. Did I dream it? My swollen lips and sticky thighs told me no.

  In a daze I headed for the kitchen and sure enough, the evidence of a three person dinner was still there in the sink and on our dining room table. I was in shock.

  “What the hell happened?”

  My hand covered my mouth and I spun, startled by my husband’s appearance behind me. Then I burst into a fit of laughter.

  “I don’t know,” I said when the giggles subsided. “What came over us?”

  I watched as the evening’s events played through Nate’s mind again, his features a mixture of disbelief and humor.

  “Oh my god, I have no idea. I have no idea what this means, do you think I still have a job?” he said.

  All I could do was shrug and laugh again.

  “What the hell did you put in that cake, Theresa?” he said.

  “Nothing, I-”

  And then I saw it. Sitting next to the stove was that gold box I had retrieved from the top shelf of the pantry.

  Ohhhhhh.

  Friendly Neighborhood Drug Dealer

  Ella Dawson

  I was finally done. Three weeks of smelling like Cup O’ Noodles and dust, over. Three weeks of study groups, flipping through flash cards at lunch, and sleeping on Biology textbooks in the library, finto. With this last exam I completed another semester of college and it felt fucking great. Three semesters down, five more to go. After one last check that I’d written ‘Stephanie Mills’ on the top of my test, I put down my pencil and looked around the lecture hall at my fellow students, the majority still struggling to label a diagram of the human heart. There was a chance I had confused two of the valves, but as a non-major I only needed a B- on the exam to pass the course and complete my general education requirements. The aortic valve did not determine my future—at least not academically.

  As I handed in my test booklet, I imagined the night of post-finals freedom waiting for me back at the dorm. Most of my friends had exams left to study for, meaning the alcohol-infused celebration I wanted most would have to wait. Tonight was all Netflix and Dominos takeout. At long last I could roll a joint, marathon through the first season of Broad City, and eat the tube of raw cookie dough sitting at the back of my mini-fridge. Sweet, sweet victory.

  I discovered the flaw in my plan when I got back to my dorm room and found my Altoids tin of weed empty aside from a few rolling papers. I dimly recalled smoking up my hall-mates before finals prep began a few weeks ago. Everyone came back from Thanksgiving break needing to unwind from family time, and I’d been the generous benefactor. But rather than be disappointed by my lack of weed, my mind lit up with possibilities; this meant an excuse to see everyone’s favorite dealer.

  Aaron lived in a single occupancy room upstairs. Usually I would text him to arrange a delivery direct to my suite, which prevented noticeable foot traffic from collecting around his door. But our RA was off duty tonight and it seemed stupid to text him when he was probably a flight of stairs away. He was spending more time in the dorm than normal this week to write a constitutional law paper, the details of which he filled me in on while we brushed our teeth side-by-side in the communal bathroom a few days ago.

  Plus I had an ulterior motive for paying him a visit. In addition to offering fair prices and being absurdly nice, Aaron was gorgeous. It wasn’t his short brown hair or his broad shoulders, or even the whole bad boy drug dealer thing—agricultural investments aside, he was pretty much the boy-next-door. No, it was his mouth. Aaron had the most exquisite mouth I had ever seen: two flushed bee stung lips that arched and curled into a beautiful smile. I spent most of our brief exchanges trying not to stare as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth while calculating costs. I couldn’t tell you the color of his eyes or exactly how tall he was, but I knew every crease and corner of that mouth.

  When alone at night I often wondered if he tasted like smoke, and how his face would look between my thighs. That was something I didn’t include in my emails home to mom: I had a crush on the friendly neighborhood drug dealer.

  Before heading upstairs I changed out of my comfy flannel and into a tank top that didn’t smell like finals anxiety. My yoga pants, however, could stay. There were times to be modest about one’s ass—err, assets—but flirting with your dealer was not one of them. My hair was a bit of a lost cause, so I pulled it into a messy ponytail and hoped I looked somewhere in the realm of dirty chic. Aaron had seen me in a mud mask wearing a towel turban so the stakes weren’t exactly high. After one last look at the full-length mirror glued to the back of my door, I stuffed a couple twenties into my bra and trekked upstairs.

  There was a gentle hum of electronic music coming from Aaron’s bedroom, so my theory had been correct: the doctor was in. I knocked twice.

  “Who is it?”

  The music muffled his voice and he turned the volume down to hear me answer, “It’s Steph!”

  There was shuffling inside and then the door swung open. For someone in the throes of an important research paper, Aaron looked remarkably put together. His curly hair was tucked under a gray beanie and sexy scruff darkened his jaw. I admired the deep green cardigan clinging to his shoulders, its sleeves bunched up just below his elbows. He smiled at me, crossing his arms over his chest, and there it was: that mouth, pink and plump. He must be the only person on campus whose lips didn’t chap during the winter. I wondered if there was a stash of expensive lip balm somewhere in his dresser.

  “Hey there,” he said, either oblivious to or politely ignoring me checking him out. “What’s up?”

  “Can I come in?” I asked, and he stepped back to wave me over the threshold, knowing better than to discuss business in public.

  Between the shut door and the low fuzz of music, there wasn’t a risk of us being overheard. “I’m out of uppers, if that’s what you need,” Aaron said, sitting down at his desk and pulling open a drawer. Within it were several Tupperware containers of Ziploc bags, rolling papers, a few bottles of prescription pills, and a small electronic scale. “Some comp sci major looking tweaked out of his mind cleared out my entire Adderall stash.”

  “I just took my last final, no uppers necessary. Can I get an eighth?”

  I settled on his bed rather than hover over his shoulder, and he nodded before opening one of the containers and retrieving a pre-measured baggie. “Same as usual?”

  “Sounds good.” I fished the bills out of my bra and placed them on his desk. He handed me a Ziploc as he politely tried not to look at my chest. Popping the bag open, I took a big whiff like a kid on Christmas morning.
Delicious.

  He laughed at the delight on my face. “You do that every time.”

  “Life’s simple pleasures.” I grinned. My good mood whenever I saw Aaron was not the sole result of his wares, but I wasn’t sure if he knew that. We were usually too busy to linger after a sale. Tonight, however, I had nothing to do, and he looked like he needed a study break. “How’s the paper going?”

  He winced, pushing away from his desk to tilt back in his chair. “It’s… going.”

  “That good, huh?”

  “My argument sorta fell apart on page three so I had to start over, but I think I’m on track to finish tomorrow.” He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. I noticed his desk was cluttered with empty paper coffee cups and granola bar wrappers.

  “Do you want me to clear out? I don’t wanna distract you.”

  “Nah, stay. Chill for a bit.” He waved off my concern and resumed smiling lazily. My stomach lurched and I sat up straighter, reminding myself not to leer. Aaron was really pretty. It wasn’t my fault. The motherfucker had dimples I could fit my pinkie tips in. “Doing anything tonight?” he asked. “Celebrating?”

  “I have very exciting plans,” I deadpanned. “Netflix, a joint, and cookie dough.”

  “Oooh, glamorous.” Another big grin, another dip in my gut. My limbs tightened, my nerves stretching like rubber bands. I couldn’t tell if Aaron was flirting with me or being his usual warm self, and it would be stupid to make a move when I wasn’t absolutely sure it would be received well. I didn’t want to fuck up our professional relationship—provider, consumer—by consuming my provider.

  “Yeah, I have a sweet tooth,” I rambled instead. “Been looking forward to that cookie dough all week.”

  “A sweet tooth, huh?” Aaron avoided eye contact as he fiddled with the handle of his desk drawer. “I got in a new product you might like.”

 

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