Young, Allyson - The Promise [Siren Publishing Ménage Amour]

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Young, Allyson - The Promise [Siren Publishing Ménage Amour] Page 11

by Allyson Young


  “Relax, babe,” Sean murmured. “Really concentrate and relax your cunt muscles.”

  Jillian stiffened for a moment at the C-word, then focused on relaxing her whole body. She felt a number of slippery fingertips at her opening, pressing gently but with determination. The invasion felt huge, even compared to Sean’s cock, and that was wide and thick, just like Peter’s. Peter moved to stroke and pinch her nipples but kept watching Sean’s progress between her legs. Jillian realized Sean was emulating the porn scene and panicked a little.

  “Shhh, babe,” Sean said quietly, looking up to give her an intense smile. “I won’t hurt you, and you’ll like this. Just be patient.”

  Jillian closed her eyes and put her mind somewhere else until the stretching feeling at her apex increased.

  “He’s nearly up to his wrist, honey,” Peter breathed. “Can you hang on?”

  Jillian couldn’t reply. She couldn’t breathe deeply, but managed a jerky nod. She felt a finger curl on the rough spot high in her vagina, and a flood of her own natural lubricant flowed down over Sean’s fist. She actually felt it ease his way. The full, stretched feeling was even more intense than the double penetration from the night before. Her anus still burned some from that. What was her vagina going to feel like? She thought she would be okay with finding out.

  Sean didn’t move for a moment then pushed higher until she felt him at her cervix. He seemed to twist his whole hand, and Jillian bucked, screaming. It felt totally out there, something she couldn’t begin to describe.

  “Are you okay, babe?” Sean asked, sounding worried.

  Jillian writhed, her head shunting from side to side, feeling her eyes begin to roll back.

  “It feels, it feels…I can’t,” she choked out.

  Peter grabbed her breasts with both hands and squeezed hard. Jillian took a breath at the steadying little pain and managed to tell Sean he wasn’t hurting her.

  * * * *

  His big hand had disappeared up Jilly’s cunt past his wrist. It was amazing. He carefully forced his fingers open from the wedge they had been in to penetrate her and marveled at how she could stretch and at how hot and wet she was.

  Sean then began to twist a little and retreat, then push back in. Peter turned the movie back on, and Jillian’s cries contrasted with the actress’s.

  “I want her to suck you off, Peter, but I don’t know if I can flip her over and push back inside without hurting her,” he advised his friend.

  Peter grabbed a big pillow from the couch and shoved his boxers down. He clambered up on the table, straddling Jillian’s chest. He lifted her up by the shoulders and stuffed the pillow under her head. When her mouth opened on another cry, he slid his aching erection inside. She choked, then breathed through her nose and sucked him hard. Sean avoided the sight of his best friend’s ass not two feet from his face and turned his gaze to Jillian’s stretched folds, the bright red of her labia contrasting with his tanned, hairy arm. The movie wailed on in the background, but they were in the process of their own drama.

  Sean fist fucked Jillian, gently at first, then with more authority as his friend thrust into her mouth. He timed his movements to mirror the thrusting of Peter’s thrusts. Jillian arched, and Sean saw Peter tighten his thighs around her rib cage, lest he be thrown off. Jillian probably could have climaxed from the stretching sensation alone, but when he put a little more pressure on her G-spot, he felt her shatter around his hand. Peter pulled out and came all over Jillian’s breasts, spattering his thighs in the process, as well as her neck and chin. Sean saw her tongue slip out to lap at a tiny drop caught on the corner of her mouth, and Peter leaned in to share the taste with her. This was his every darkest fantasy.

  Sean carefully pulled his hand out of Jillian and licked and drank the wetness that covered it. It tasted like her, overwhelming an inkling of the lube. His fingers felt cramped from being in such tight quarters, as well as that final spasm she had gone into. He and Peter were both going to fit up that sweet cunt tomorrow. They would have to decide who would take the front and who would take the back. Either position would be fine with him. Sean mopped between his woman’s thighs with the towel. It was saturated with the lube and her efforts. He pressed a kiss on her opening and then released her legs to allow them to slide closed and downward over the edge of the table, rubbing the muscles with care.

  He handed Peter the towel and motioned him toward the bathroom. Jillian lay boneless and sprawled on the table, and when Peter returned, he handed Sean a warm cloth, using a second one to clean his come from her body. Sean separated her legs enough to cleanse the residual moisture.

  “One of you is going to have to wipe the table,” Jillian croaked out. “I’m not eating that casserole off this surface until you scrub it.”

  Sean laughed and pulled her onto his lap. “Do you want a shower, babe, or do you want to eat first?”

  “I’m really thirsty, and you’d better feed me,” Jillian answered. “Then I need a nap. My wazoo had better heal up before tomorrow, or you are both out of luck.”

  “Did I hurt you?” Sean asked anxiously as Peter hurried to get a bottle of water from the fridge.

  “There was no blood or anything, babe,” he assured her. “Jillian, did I hurt you?”

  “I felt you in my throat, Sean,” she answered, “and in my hip bones, too. You aren’t doing that again. As much as I liked the orgasm, I feel pretty stretched.”

  Sean kissed the top of her head and hugged her closer. “You’ll be back to normal in a couple of hours, if not sooner, honest.”

  “And you would know that how?” she asked.

  Sean hesitated.

  “Sean? Do you do that to women a lot?” Jillian insisted.

  Sean finally answered, “I looked it up on the Internet because I’ve seen it in porn, but I never wanted to try it until we came back from shopping and I saw you so interested in that movie. I tried to be careful and not hurt you, babe.”

  Jillian sighed and patted his arm. “You didn’t hurt me, Sean. It was pretty amazing, but it’s not my fondest wish, okay?”

  Sean relaxed and kissed her again. “Okay. Although it was something that—ouch!” She had pinched him!

  “I said, not again,” Jillian said with finality, pushing up off of his lap and getting in his face. “Give it up.”

  “Okay, okay!” Sean hurriedly agreed.

  “And, Sean,” she added, once again going nose to nose, “use the C-word again and I will make your life interesting.”

  Sean and Peter watched her stomp toward the bathroom, admiring her heart-shaped ass swaying below the shimmering length of her hair. They both sighed and then laughed as they heard the longing in the other.

  “You make the salad. I’ll scrub the table,” Sean decreed.

  * * * *

  The casserole was devoured. The men sat in their boxers and Jillian wore yet another towel. Peter noticed that Sean didn’t challenge her on it. He was probably still a little concerned about her comments about being uncomfortably stretched. He also thought that Sean would really like to try it again some time, but wouldn’t dare unless she asked. They were still going to fuck her cunt, no, make that her pussy, together, and that would stretch her, but by the time they got to that stage Jillian would be begging for it. Tonight they would just hang out and build up strength. Jillian was going to need hers.

  Peter offered to clean up, and Sean suggested a movie, not porn this time. Jillian decided to read instead and curled up all by herself in a wing chair, becoming immersed in one of Peter’s mysteries. Peter knew she was asking for a little space. Sean helped him with the cleanup and suggested they get lunch organized for the next day and maybe decide on what to order for dinner. Peter, being the planner, hid his amusement at Sean’s foresight, realizing that his friend didn’t want to have to do any mundane tasks the following day. His dick got hard just thinking about the games to come then softened as he remembered he hadn’t seen his planner since it was in Jillian’s
wet hand, suspended over a tub full of water. If she had wrecked it on purpose, then one of the games tomorrow would be adapted to include an ass whupping, and maybe a pussy whupping, too.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jillian slept in the following day. She wasn’t woken by any shenanigans in the night or when her guys woke. She stretched luxuriously under the soft sheet and contemplated life for a moment before heading to the bathroom to use the facilities and shower. She dried off and lathered herself with the remnants of some lotion she found in the back of Peter’s medicine cabinet, and popped a mild painkiller while she was at it. Her back ached, probably from the table games, and her pussy was a little bit tender, too, although her bottom was back to normal. She carefully spread her labia and touched her opening tentatively just as the door opened and Sean poked his head in to announce breakfast. His eyes widened and his face paled when he saw her touching herself in front of the mirror. He pushed inside and fell to his knees in front of her, opening her to his gaze and gently probing between her legs.

  He looked up and her and pleaded, “Jillian, are you okay?”

  Jillian rapped the top of his head with her knuckles. “Get up from there, Sean. Now.”

  He pushed to his feet and towered over her, taking her face between his hands.

  “Jillian, did I hurt you?” he asked again.

  “I’m a little tender, Sean. What did you expect? It’s been a fuckathon! Isn’t your dick a little sore?”

  Sean flushed. “A little. But in a good way.”

  “Well, there you go. My back hurts more, and I was just about to demand a massage,” she said cheerfully.

  Sean smiled down at her. “I’ll make sure that gets worked into the scene, babe. Now, breakfast is served. We’re late, but you were tired so we let you sleep. The fun starts right after the food settles.”

  Jillian’s pussy clenched and moistened. Oh boy.

  Sean and Peter took turns feeding her. It felt a little strange but really caring and sweet. Jillian was starved, though, and wanted to build up her strength and wondered how she could make them offer more food and do it more frequently. The slow process served to build her arousal, however, and by the look of the straining fabric over their crotches, Peter and Sean were feeling it, too. Finally, Jillian took a last sip of juice and held a hand up to signal she was full. She looked at them both expectantly.

  Peter gave her a look that sent her pulse pounding. “Go to the bedroom. There are some things on the bed and a note explaining what you are to do. When you are ready, come back here.”

  Jillian nearly skipped down the hall and into the bedroom. The bed was made with the red satin sheet, and the black velvet restraints trailed down from either end. She checked to see that the strap was there, too. Another rope hung from the ceiling hook. Jillian had seen the hook the first night she was there and thought it was a weird place to hang a lamp or a plant. The D rings were attached to the floor, and she shivered, her labia clenching and her moisture flowing. The wardrobe was locked, and she felt a frisson of erotic fear at what they were keeping from her. She absently touched her nipples then turned her attention to the bed.

  Snatching up the note, she scowled at the first instruction. Not fucking likely. Then she took a deep breath and trudged into the bathroom to pick up the box containing the anal douche. Okay, then. She supposed it would make things better for all of them. Not something she was thrilled about, but she did it. Jeez.

  The white garter belt and sheer, white hose seemed contradictory, but she hastily donned them. The lacey, white bustier or corset was more of a challenge. It was laced tightly, and even though it had a zipper at the front, concealed behind a panel of lace, Jillian had to fight hard to get it zipped up. She felt light-headed afterward and sat on the bed until the world quit spinning. She debated loosening the laces but thought either Peter or Sean had fit it to her size and was secretly thrilled that they thought she was so small.

  Jillian stood before the mirror. Her breasts were plumped and full above the top of the bustier, her nipples a hair away from showing. Her waist looked impossibly thin, and her hips and bottom flared out seductively. The garter belt framed her pussy, and moisture sparkled there. Wow, she looked hot and virginal at the same time.

  There was a pink lip gloss and dark mascara. Jillian carefully applied them both, and she was hard put to recognize the innocent that stared back at her. The short, narrow, white leather belt studded with tiny diamond-like gems would only fit her upper arms, or, holy shit, around her neck. She would look like Peter had the day before. Slowly, she fastened it and admired the effect. Finally, she took up the long, black cape and settled it around her shoulders, pulling up the hood to conceal her hair and features. Showtime.

  Jillian advanced into the living room, where Sean and Peter had rearranged the furniture and placed a large, fluffy, black area rug in the middle of the room. She figured she looked like an angel from hell in the flowing, black cape. She stopped just short of them and stared. Both wore armbands that looked like gauntlets. Their chests were bare and glistening with oil. It was the leather pants that took Jillian’s breath. They fit Sean and Peter like second skin and looked as oiled as their chests. Holy crap. Peter held a riding crop, the riding crop. Sean had a flogger wrapped around his waist. She glimpsed a silver tray on the table just beyond Peter and saw a selection of toys and a tube of lube.

  “So”—Sean’s deep voice cut into her speculation—“you deliver yourself to us of your own free will.”

  Jillian managed not to giggle. “I guess so,” she managed to reply.

  Peter stepped forward and drew back her hood, looking deeply into her eyes. Jillian caught her breath at what she saw there and would have stepped back, except he had taken hold of the cape and was unfastening the clasp at her neck. He pushed it off her shoulders, and it pooled around her feet. Sean and Peter stared at her, and she swore she heard leather creak as their cocks swelled.

  “This day will be long and demand much of you,” Peter said stiffly, as though from a script, but more probably because he was so aroused.

  “You will do everything we say without question, and immediately,” Sean added in a more polished manner, “or your village and your kin will perish. Do you understand?”

  Jillian tried hard to get into the swing of things but could hardly think straight for the lust fogging her brain. The bulge in their leather pants, their flexing muscles and clenching hands just did it for her. Still, she tried.

  “I understand,” she offered. “But must I be silent?”

  Peter ad-libbed, “No, we want to hear everything. If you keep silent, you will be punished. But you may not refuse us. We demand everything.”

  “Okay, then.”

  * * * *

  Peter choked back a laugh. So much for Jillian staying in character. “Stand in the middle of the rug and turn around slowly,” he commanded.

  Jillian obeyed, standing straight and proud. She looked totally hot in her outfit.

  “You are so proud now, wench,” Sean fairly snarled. “You will be begging and pleading with no thought to your pride when we are finished with you. You will be our slave forever.”

  Jillian soaked her thighs at his statement, a fact not lost on Peter, whose gaze was on her pussy. He fought against touching her. He and Sean had worked hard on this scene the whole time they were out shopping for it and not spending time with Jilly. Fuck lunch. And maybe dinner. This would take hours. Finding those low-heat, wax candles really appealed to him. Sean assured him he knew how to use wax to bring Jillian right up there and he trusted his buddy. Not to mention the new toy he bought. Jilly would be making its acquaintance shortly.

  “Spread your legs, shoulder-width apart,” Peter ordered and nearly groaned when Jillian instantly complied. He stepped forward and slid his hand between her legs, holding it up for Sean to see how wet it was.

  Wider,” he growled and returned his hand to cup her roughly and squeeze, sending her up on tiptoe. Sean gra
bbed her shoulders to help her keep her balance and ground his crotch against her backside. Peter felt her get even hotter and wetter and slid two fingers up inside her to press against her G-spot. He watched her mouth open to pant and her eyes close and increased the pressure until he felt her begin to clench. Then he pulled out and slapped upward, his palm squelching against her soaking pussy.

  “Hey!” she exclaimed.

  Sean pulled her tighter and against him and yanked her head back, his hands now fisting in her hair. “You take what we give you, when we give it to you, wench.”

  Jillian pouted but subsided, and Sean released her to walk around and slide his hands across the tops of her breasts. Jillian shuddered, and he pulled them free to sit on the top of the corset, the nipples hard and pointing. Sean bent his head to take them into his mouth, one at a time, sucking and nipping the ends until she whimpered and moaned, swaying with the sensation.

  “I am going to decorate you here,” he told her and held out his hand to Peter, who dropped a pair of nipple clamps into his outstretched palm. “Do not move.”

  * * * *

  Jillian watched, feeling mesmerized, as Sean rolled then stretched each tender bud and clamped it with a gold circlet. She breathed through the pinch of pain and felt it pulse to her pussy.

  Sean and Peter then each took a nipple into their mouths, and she managed to stay upright, held by their touch, and resisted the impulse to hold their heads close to her. Peter’s blond, tousled hair begged for her to run her hands through it, and she really wanted to stroke Sean’s bare skin. What the hell. Why not? Her hands came up, and she pulled them against her. Instantly they withdrew and gave her similar looks.

  Sean dragged her to the couch and bent her over the arm, kicking her ankles apart, gently, but with authority. He spoke above her.

 

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