by Alexa Anna
I put the camera on the nightstand, which I drag a little from its original place so that it’s right in front of us. I prop up the phone against the bedside lamp, and I unbuckle my pants and pull out my own cock, not bothering to pull my jeans down around my thick muscular thighs. I just let the fabric fall down around my cock like the petals on a flower, around the stamen.
I grip my cock in my hand and squeeze. Then I take my hand and spit on it, and put it back on my cock, gripping the head, and then pulling down towards the base. The male “g-spot,” if there is one, for me at least, is located on the far side of my cock, right underneath the head. I can’t help but letting out a grunt of pleasure as I trip the g-spot and my eyes train across Aly’s body as she changes her laptop’s position.
“Pull down your shirt,” says Zach. “Let’s see those delicious breasts.”
Aly obeys, and her amazing tits pop out. I instantly start jerking off harder and faster, without even thinking about it.
I’m vaguely aware that Zach is doing the same thing next to me, increasing his speed to match mine.
But I don’t care about his cock, obviously. It’s Aly I’m concentrating on. Aly I want to bury my cock into.
I wish I wasn’t so far away. I wish the three of us were together again, either in my New York City apartment, or better yet, far away in some remote beach where no one could find us and where there aren’t any external problems at all—just the three of us, fucking forever without a single worry in our heads.
Aly’s working on herself with her fingers, two of them inside her. Her naked thighs drive me crazy.
None of us are speaking now. Aly’s staring at us, her eyes going back and forth between our cocks.
She tells us to take off our shirts, and we do so, exposing our rippling abs and our massive shoulder muscles. This sends her into a frenzy, going faster than I thought possible, her body rocking back and forth.
Zach grabs a tissue from the night stand and I do the same. None of the three of us are going to last much longer. We all long for another session too much—we all long for our bodies to connect once again.
My cock explodes and I squirt my come into the tissue. I quickly have to grab a handful more because the first one is immensely soaked with my come, soaking right through it. My cock just keeps squirting and squirting, feeling more swollen than ever.
Aly comes spectacularly, the three of us in complete unison.
I hear Zach grabbing more tissues and grunting in satisfaction.
Aly lets out a tremendous moan and I quickly reach out to turn the volume down on the cell phone in case someone else can hear it. She falls back, completely sweaty, her legs spread wide, her yoga pants around her ankles, her breasts hanging out deliciously.
She looks up at us and smiles, a sinful, lustful smile.
Zach
Staying here is pretty weird. I’ve never been to a small town like this, and I’ve never met people like Colton’s parents. In college, I don’t think they ever visited him once, so I never met them.
We’re sitting around the breakfast table, and Colton’s dad still hasn’t looked at us once.
“I’m off to the store,” he grunts.
“Be careful,” says Colton’s mom, but he doesn’t look at her either, or even grunt an acknowledgement at her.
“Have you been helping that nice girl, Aly?” says Colton’s mom. I guess she still hasn’t talked about the gang situation and his dad because Colton’s dad is still within earshot. He’s putting his boots on at the entrance of the house, getting ready to leave.
“Yeah,” I say, before realizing I’m not supposed to be involved.
“You’ve been seeing her too?” says Colton’s mom, eyeing me suspiciously.
“Oh,” I say. “Just once or twice, with Colton. We went over to help her with a roommate situation.”
“Yeah,” says Colton, giving me a nudge under the table. I’m pretty sure this nudge means I’m not supposed to mention anything about Aly staying with Colton, and obviously not to mention that the three of us are “going out,” so to speak. Although we’re really not going anywhere. I don’t think the three of us have even been outside the bedroom together, except to move Aly from her apartment to Colton’s. “She has this really crazy roommate, but it’s all better now. Zach and I helped her out with it.”
“Oh my goodness,” says my mother. “That’s terrible to hear. But you boys are careful to… You’re not going…” She doesn’t seem to know how to say what she wants to say.
Suddenly, Colton’s dad, a somewhat big and imposing man, appears in the kitchen doorway again, looking even taller and bigger with his boots and jacket on.
“I know what you boys get up to together,” he says, his words almost a snarl. “And Aly’s a nice girl. I don’t want you messing around with her. Got it?”
“Yes,” says my mother. “There are certain rumors about you, Colton, and about what you get up to with your friend here…”
I groan inwardly. So his parents do know that we like to bang women together. At least I don’t find it embarrassing. But I bet they’re going to keep giving us a hard time. And we’re only here to help them. This is getting crazy.
“We wouldn’t do anything like that,” says Colton. “And you can’t believe everything you hear, you know? That’s how it is being a famous football player.”
His dad grunts and disappears out the front door, slamming it behind him.
“It’s so terrible that her dad just died,” says Colton’s mom. “And here you two are messing around with her head…”
Messing around with her body is more like it, I think to myself, trying to suppress the smirk that I hope isn’t appearing on my face.
“Now,” says Colton’s mother, leaning in close over the table. “I don’t know what to do about your father. First of all, don’t think about trying to pay him. He’s got his head set on not paying them. You know how stubborn he is.”
“I thought he didn’t care?” says Colton. “I thought you said he was going to pay them but just needed the money.”
“Oh,” says Colton’s mother. “I never said that.”
Colton hangs his head in his hands. I can feel the frustration bubbling out from his presence.
“Anyway,” says his mom. “I think he’s going to try to confront the gang himself and I know that they’re very, very dangerous. I just don’t know what to do.”
“Don’t worry,” says Colton, patting his mom on the hand. “We’re going to take care of it, right, Zach?”
“Yup, don’t worry one bit, Mrs. Smith. We’ll figure out a way to do it.”
“And be careful!” says his mother, calling out shrilly after us as we head out the door.
Colton opens the cab door to an old pickup that’s been rotting in the yard for nearly a decade, and I get into the passenger’s side, the door nearly falling off as I open it.
“What the hell are we going to do?” I say. “I don’t know anything about gangs.”
“I know,” says Colton, looking stressed. “I don’t either. But we’ve got to try something. Let’s just head into town and see what’s going on.”
I nod, and Colton cranks the engine and we ramble off down the little road into town.
“Man,” I say, staring out the dusty, dirty window. “I’ve never been a town this small before. This place is crazy. How many people live here, anyway?”
Colton shrugs. “I dunno,” he says. “A couple thousand, I guess. Check it out, that’s my dad’s hardware store up there.”
“That little tiny store on the corner?”
Colton nods. “That’s the town center.”
“The town center?” I say, incredulous, my mouth hanging open. “This place is really, really small.”
Colton ignores me. “Maybe we should just park and watch and wait.”
I sigh, as Colton parks the car and just sits there.
“We’re just going to sit here?” I say.
Colton nods
.
Great, I think to myself. This is going to be boring as fuck. I wish the three of us were back in NYC where we could order pizza and fuck all night until we’re too exhausted to do anything at all. Aly’s immensely hot naked body fills my mind’s eye and I sigh in longing for her.
But there’s something else there… some feeling towards her, something other than just lust. I realize that I’m actually worried about how she’s doing. Am I starting to have real feelings for her? This is a weird, completely new sensation for me.
“You thinking about Aly?” says Colton.
I nod, somewhat uncomfortable admitting this. “I think I have feelings for her.”
“No shit,” says Colton.
“No,” I say. “I mean like… feelings. Not just lust.”
“Oh,” says Colton. Then, after a long pause, he adds, “Yeah, me too.”
“But we can’t all be in a relationship with her, can we?” I say. “I mean, three people is fine for fucking, but for like something more… for a relationship…?”
Colton shrugs and we don’t mention it again. Instead, we spend a couple hours just staring out the dirty pickup cab’s window, staring right at the little brick hardware store that Colton’s dad owns. Not a single person enters the store in the whole time we’re watching.
“Nothing’s happening,” I say. “I’m bored stiff, man, and my back is killing me. Who the hell made these seats, anyway? Not a single customer has entered.”
“We watch and we wait,” says Colton. “Unless you have a better idea.”
“Nope,” I say, and we sit and wait.
Finally, someone approaches the store. There’s hardly anyone around in this town and I half expect to see a tumbleweed rolling through Main Street. And, yes, this is such a small, boring, and unoriginal town that it’s called Main Street. They really couldn’t think of another name?
“It’s just an old man,” says Colton, and I sigh.
Sure enough, it’s just some white haired old guy probably headed to the hardware store to buy a couple screws.
Another twenty minutes later, and the old man leaves the store.
“Hey,” I whisper to Colton, tapping him on the bicep. “What about those guys over there?”
Two guys, a couple years younger than Colton and I, but not by much, come sauntering towards the hardware store.
“They look like they’re armed,” says Colton.
“How can you tell?” I say.
“By their stance, the way they walk,” says Colton.
“What are you, an army ranger?” I say.
We watch as they enter the store. They leave, five minutes later, looking really pissed off, dark expressions on their faces.
“Come on!” I say. “We can still get them. What are we going to do, sit here and wait for more people? These are the guys, right. Let’s hit this problem head on.”
Frankly, I don’t want to spend more time in this town than I have to. All we have to do is tell these young punks what’s what, and that’ll be it. Then we get back to NYC and back to Aly’s delicious body, her spectacular scent…
Colton and I get out of the cab and follow the guys down the street. They turn a corner and we follow them.
“Hey there!” I call out. “What’s up, guys?”
The two guys stop and turn around. They have deadly serious expressions on their faces. One of them has a huge scar that runs across his face, bisecting his nose.
They don’t say anything. They just stare at us.
“What’s up?” I say again.
One of them nods at me. “Want to buy some product?” he says.
“What you holding?” I say, knowing that this is how you talk about drugs.
“Everything,” says one of the guys. “Blow, smack, the usual.”
So that means he’s selling heroin, cocaine, and everything else under the sun. Wow, these guys are serious if they’re selling that kind of dangerous shit. That’s a lot of time in prison if they’re caught.
“I hear you’re entering the extortion business, too,” says Colton. “I hear you’re messing around with that hardware store there on the corner. Why don’t you just leave it alone, eh?”
“What’s it to you?” says the one with the scar. “We do what we want in this town.”
“Sounds like you don’t know who you’re talking to,” says Colton, his voice getting deadly serious. A split second later, it happens.
Colton shifts his huge body in the blink of an eye. His huge shoulder goes forward, his arm following.
His massive first connects with the skinny punk’s face, and he goes down just from the one hit, collapsing onto the pavement.
“What the fuck, dude?” says his companion, the one with the scar.
“Don’t mess with us, dude,” I say. “Don’t mess with that hardware store.”
The poor guy doesn’t know who he’s up against. After all, Colton and I aren’t professional quarterbacks for nothing. We work out as part of our job. We can bench more than almost anyone else, except professional weight lifters.
This guy, however, looks like he couldn’t manage a single pushup, even if his life depended on it.
But he’s got a trick up his sleeve.
His hand dips into his pocket and comes up holding a pistol.
Before he can even point it at us, I’m rushing towards him from the side. Colton’s coming at him straight on, not even caring about the gun.
I knock the gun out of his hand with a swift chopping action and then collide into him from the side. Colton smacks into him from the front. This is a tackle that definitely wouldn’t be legal on the football field. Good thing that’s not where we are.
The punk collapses between us. He looks up at us from the pavement, conscious, unlike his friend.
“Stay away from the hardware store,” says Colton, before turning on his heel.
The two of us walk back down the street, get into the truck, and Colton cranks the engine. Soon we’re cruising along down Main Street, the punks likely still on the ground.
“Let’s hope that works,” says Colton.
“I’m sure it will,” I say. “We gave them a pretty clear message.”
“I don’t know,” he says. “There are more of them. We may have just opened up a can of worms that we can’t close.”
Aly
I spend all week thinking about Colton and Zach. We get a chance to talk on the video chat a couple more times, but on the days when we can’t coordinate it, for whatever reason (me working late, for instance), I spend my time alone in Colton’s apartment fantasizing about having the two of them inside me.
I’ve never even had anal sex. And so far, it’s just been one of them inside me at a time. I mean, technically, one was always in my mouth. That’s incredibly hot and all, but I can read my body better now, and it’s really just longing for something more, for something greater, for something much more intense.
I also spend some time reading women’s experiences on the internet. I read about what positions work well for threesomes like this. Most of all, I read about what the women felt and experienced when they were getting pounded by two men.
They all liked it… every single one of them. I mean, sure, maybe it’s not for everyone. But there’s something… primal about it. Two men and one woman. It just sounds natural to me, the more I think about it. And trust me, I think about it quite a bit.
So I spend my time on the subway, pushing through the crowds on the streets, alone in Colton’s abandoned apartment, masturbating with Colton and Zach on video chat, not to mention chatting with them about everyday things, and of course at work with my head down trying to pretend that I like what I’m doing.
This is a very strange existence. A very strange New York City existence. Or is it?
It’s certainly better than living with Tami. I can see clearly now that she was something of an aberration. Obviously, not everyone here is that crazy. So I’m maturing in some ways. The least of which is
my sexuality, where I’m learning that I have a lot to learn. I never would have guessed before that I would have gone through with something like this… something like this meaning being fucked by two men.
Of course, I haven’t quite gone through with it yet. I mean, it’s one thing to be with them in the same bed. It’d another to have both of them truly inside me. And I don’t just mean in my mouth.
I’m at work, sitting with my head down, nodding off.
My boss’s secretary bursts into the room. And by room I mean my pathetic little cubicle. Honestly, calling it a cubicle is something of a stretch. Since I actually just have two walls. I’m on the end of a long row of poor saps and suckers just like me. I have the wall in front of me, behind where my computer should be (they don’t even give me a computer, even though I’m supposed to be a graphic designer), and the wall to my right, which marks the end of this pathetic line of workers.
“I have to speak to you,” says Tasha, who is always dressed to the nines and always marching around in her high heels like she owns the place.
“OK,” I say, not sure where she’s going with this.
It’s Friday, after all, how bad could it be?
Well, maybe she’s going to ask me to work the weekend, I think to myself. After all, that’s what’s always happening in the movies to people in office jobs. This is my first office job, so I’m still learning the ropes.
Or maybe she’s going to criticize my work and tell me to redo it at home. That wouldn’t be anything new. Or maybe she’s going to tell me that I have to dress more professionally. But, hell, I’m doing the best I can, really. Colton and Zach, in the end, both left some money for me to buy a larger professional wardrobe, since they saw I was wearing the same stuff over and over, which for a woman in the workplace is unfortunately a bad idea.
“Come with me to the break room,” says Tasha, already walking towards the break room. “And take your stuff,” she calls out over her shoulders.
I quickly grab my belongings so as not to lose Tasha’s trail and run after her, as best I can in a skirt and heels.