Dirty Becky

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Dirty Becky Page 11

by Jason Lenov


  Becky started him swaying. Back and forth he went, his slick cock slipping into her sloppy, tight pussy.

  He grimaced.

  “Almost there,” Becky said, breathless.

  “Ah!” Eduardo squawked. His hips shot back but Becky was ready. Locking her ankles behind him, she yanked him forward burying his cock inside her pussy.

  “Ah!” Eduardo shouted.

  Becky’s eyes rolled back into her head and her whole body trembled as she came.

  “Oh no!” Eduardo moaned. “Miss, no, I’m…I’m…ga!”

  By this time Becky was finished. Her eyes fluttered open. She smiled up at Eduardo and caressed his cheek again. But her legs stayed wrapped around him so tight there was no hope of escape. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s okay. It’s natural. Don’t worry just enjoy the feeling.”

  Eduardo went tumbling over the edge. His body started jerking and shaking, twitching back and forward as he chased his pleasure around the hot space inside Becky.

  I nearly blew my wad just watching it.

  It took nearly a minute for him to shudder through his climax.

  I could only imagine the copious load he’d deposited inside her.

  “Oh my god,” he exhaled. “Oh my god what have we done?” he said, looking up into her eyes.

  Becky tilted her head and gave him a sad smile. “It’ll be fine,” she said, nodding kindly. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.” She ran her hand down his chest and abs, then wrapped her fingers around his cock.

  I fell off my chair and onto my knees, riveted by the sight about to be revealed.

  “Okay time to come out,” Becky said softly. Gripping his cock she eased him back and as he slipped out, swept her feet up into the air to keep in his seed.

  The room filled with a thick tension. Eduardo and I were both staring at Becky’s split pussy, waiting for the cum to dribble out of it.

  Becky’s eyes darted between me and him and in between her legs. Finally, she sighed. “Eduardo you should probably go, okay?” she whispered.

  This shook him from his stupor. Shaking his head he swept up his shorts, danced into them, then without a word disappeared into the hallway and out the door.

  Becky turned to look at me. “Did you like it?”

  “I…I loved it.”

  “He’s still in me. You want to see?”

  I nodded and crawled toward her.

  She reached her hands around her ass and pressed the tips of her fingers against her pussy lips. She pried them apart as I peered into the yawning chasm of her orifice. The dank and heady smell of Eduardo’s seed wafted up, stinging my nostrils and heightening my pleasure. I gasped as I laid eyes on his filthy emission, churning and roiling within her. I looked up and locked eyes with Becky.

  “You want to come in me too?” she asked. A wicked smile cracked on her lips. “Finish inside me and we can see who wins.”

  I leaped up onto my feet. Pointing my prick at her cunt I stabbed it in. As it drilled deeper it displaced Eduardo’s ejaculate sending it sloshing out of Becky’s entrance and splattering over my thighs.

  I burst into a heated almost angry fuck, gripping Becky’s thighs as I burrowed into her defiled snatch.

  “Fuck, baby, yes!” she screamed. “Fuck it into me! Fuck your seed into me!”

  It was all the invitation I needed. The dam burst and a slop of my emission came whooshing through my shaft, erupting out the head of my cock and covering Becky’s tender, pink insides.

  Her pussy clenched at my muscle, drawing out seed and sucking it into itself.

  The room began to spin.

  As I passed through the tightest part of my climax I once again invoked the vision of what awaited. Quentin’s dark dick doing just this inside Becky. I roared at the thought and crested over another wave of bliss.

  When it was over I collapsed onto her, huffing and panting.

  Becky’s chuckle rolled out into a full-blown laugh. She wrapped her arms around my neck and squeezed me tight, her ankles locked behind me the way she’d done with Eduardo. “We’re fucking crazy, aren’t we?” she asked.

  Her breath felt hot on my cheek. “I love you.”

  She nibbled on my ear. “And I love you,” I replied. A pang of guilt gripped me at the memory of my conspiratorial meeting with Quentin. And at what lay ahead.

  Our connection felt stronger than ever. In a moment of weakness I nearly confessed. But I knew I wouldn’t get what I wanted that way.

  Six more days. I would have to keep the secret that long. As soon as Quentin showed up at our house unannounced I knew Becky would cave. And I knew she would thank me for it once it was over.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The following week was busy for both of us. We didn’t even have time for each other in the evenings. There was certainly no time or energy to share her again. So by the time Friday night rolled around, the day Quentin had agreed to make his surprise visit, I was on pins and needles.

  I got home from work early, earlier than Becky. I lit some candles. Opened up the bottle of scotch I’d bought at the store and helped myself to a healthy dose. Not too healthy. I wanted to be on top of my game that evening.

  I knew from the moment Becky walked into the house that something was up. She didn’t bounce into the house like she had been all week. She set her laptop bag down by the door and walked through the hall into the dining room still in her heels. She glanced at the candles and the scotch, then at me. “What’s all this?” she asked.

  I hauled myself up off the couch and walked over to where she was standing. “I thought we could have a nice evening. Maybe a nice weekend? Are you down for a little more…”

  “Jeff,” she said, putting a hand on my arm.

  Uh oh.

  “What is it?”

  She sighed. “I didn’t tell you because, well, it just didn’t come up. But I got my period on Monday.”

  The weight of this revelation sank down on me slowly. I glanced at my watch. Quarter to seven. Fifteen more minutes and he’d be there. “Are you saying…”

  She smiled. “I’m saying that I think we have to cut our little adventure short. For now anyways.”

  My heart sank.

  “On the bright side,” Becky purred, leaning in to kiss my cheek, “we can start trying. I have a feeling that might be a bit of fucking fun, don’t you?”

  I was speechless. I saw my dark plan crack under the tension, then come collapsing down around us both.

  “Jeff? Are you okay? I thought you’d be happy.”

  I realized what a terrible reaction that had been. “Of course I’m happy!” I immediately corrected. “I love you. It’s just…I wasn’t expecting…”

  “I know,” she said, nodding in understanding. “I know I promised you thirty days. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” she said, flashing a flirty smile.

  There was. Just not the way she imagined. My resolve broke. Shoulders sagging, I sighed and looked at the floor. “I have to tell you something. There’s not much time.”

  Becky scowled. “Not much time? What is it?”

  I looked up and straight into her eyes. “Becky I met Quentin last week.”

  She sucked in a breath. “You what? You did?” Was that hope that I heard in her tone? Or exasperation?

  Fuck, was she mad at me?

  “I did.”

  “Why?”

  “I didn’t know…I couldn’t…this thing, this thing’s been hanging over me. This thing about you and Quentin and then we started doing this and I just thought that the only way to really get rid of it would be to…Becky I invited him over. He’s coming this evening.”

  Her mouth fell open. She stared at me like a statue with lifeless eyes. “He is?”

  “He is.”

  Becky shook her head. “He can’t,” she whispered. “Jeff we can’t do that.”

  Another glance at my watch. Seven fifty-three. “He’s coming at eight.”

  A shudder passed through B
ecky. “Oh my god.”

  I touched her arm. “I think it’s going to be okay.”

  She shook her head again. “It’s not going to be okay. I…Jeff there’s something I have to tell you.”

  My stomach tightened into a knot.

  “It’s the reason I left him. You have to know that…”

  Ding dong.

  I squeezed her arm again. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.” Leaning forward I kissed her on the cheek and stepped around her leaving her standing alone in the living room. When I swung the front door open there was Quentin. He’d brought a bouquet. How thoughtful.

  “Everything alright?” he asked, obviously sensing the tension in the house.

  “Everything’s fine. Just fine,” I said.

  He looked up and his eyes focused on a spot behind me.

  I turned to see Becky standing there staring at him. She wore a wild look of abandon unlike any I’d ever seen on her before. “Quentin,” she whispered.

  “Hey Beck,” he replied. Then he stepped up off the porch and into the house, swinging the door shut behind him. “I brought these.” He glanced at me. “Not, like, anything like that. Just friends.”

  I swallowed back the dryness in my throat. “Uh-huh. Sure. No problem. I’ll get these in some water,” I said, grabbing the flowers and slipping away into the kitchen. Somehow it felt like it would be easier if I just let things unfold naturally. Let nature take it’s course.

  Little did I know how quickly that flower would blossom.

  When I returned to the hall they were gone. The light was on upstairs. My eyes popped wide open. I couldn’t believe it. Were they already up there getting busy? Dashing up the steps I came to a stop at the door of the bedroom and looked inside. My breath caught in my chest.

  There was Becky on her knees, eyes wide open and staring straight at the bulge growing between Quentin’s legs. She looked ghostly, lost in a trance. She traced the outline of his cock along his pants.

  And Quentin? Quentin seemed…not like Quentin at all. Not the one Becky had described and not the one I’d met. He had changed. His gaze was steely, his expression had darkened, the casual easy-going side of him had disappeared. He turned to stare at me. “You still up for this?” he said, his voice nearly a growl.

  Becky turned to look at me. Our eyes met. My heart skipped a beat and I couldn’t breathe. For the first time since we’d embarked on this journey together I wondered if I’d taken a wrong turn. The intensity of their connection, the hold he (or rather his cock) had over Becky was palpable.

  Suddenly I knew it wasn’t up to me. This one had to be about Becky. Crooking a finger I beckoned her toward me.

  Falling to her hands and knees she crawled across the floor and came to a stop in front of me.

  I sank down and took her hands in mine. It had been so arousing, so compelling as a fantasy but now that the three of us were there together it felt…dangerous. “What do you think?” I asked her.

  Her eyes darted from side to side, then settled on mine again. She looked like she could summon thunder and lightning with her expression. “I think,” she whispered, then paused. “I think I want that fat black dick up in me.”

  Shudder.

  I glanced up at Quentin. I knew we had to tell him she was off of birth control. Even if it meant he might change his mind it just wouldn’t be fair any other way. “Quentin,” I whispered, my mouth so dry I could barely speak. “She’s unprotected.”

  Quentin nodded. “Yeah, I figured,” he rumbled.

  “You did?”

  He sniffed the air. “She didn’t ever smell like this when she was with me.”

  Filthy.

  I wanted to be clear. “If you come inside her you might…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

  “Breed the bitch?” Quentin growled.

  I shuddered again and turned to gaze at Becky. “Breed the bitch,” I whispered.

  Becky’s lips cracked into a wicked, snarling grin. Turning around she crawled back across the carpet and resumed her position in front of Quentin. This time, though, she reached up and undid the button of his pants, unzipped his zipper, then yanked them down his legs along with his underwear.

  His obsidian phallus rose like a totem from in between his legs.

  Becky’s jaw fell and her body quivered at the sight of it. She reached up with fingers splayed and ran the tips along his rock hard flesh in worship.

  It flexed so hard at her feather touch it seemed to bend light itself. The air in the room heated and hummed with tension.

  “You remember baby?” Quentin rumbled. “You remember this big black dick?”

  Becky’s eyes rose to meet his. Her lips were trembling. “How could I forget?”

  The truth of it all shone like a beacon through the darkness and twisted me in a way I thought might never leave me. A realization dawned on me. Becky might have left that gleaming black column in the past but in a way it still lived in her, with her and through her. I knew it would always occupy a space inside her, a space I would never be able to claim.

  What should have made me insanely jealous made me throb instead. In a way, a part of her would always be his.

  “Go on then,” Quentin said, breaking the tension with his voice. “Show your man how you used to suck my dick.”

  Taking a deep breath, Becky rose to the occasion. Undoing the buttons of her shirt she let the silky thing fall to the floor. Reaching behind her back, she undid the clasp of her bra and shrugged that off. Her tits, the nipples stiff and pointy, heaved as her mouth fell open. She licked her lips.

  I stared, fixated on how close her mouth was to the tip of his prick. I gasped as she sucked the tip in.

  Pausing for a moment to flick her tongue beneath the head of his cock, she then began gliding down his member taking inch after inch of it into her mouth, staring up at him with the most submissive wide-eyed gaze.

  Five inches in I was sure she would stop.

  She didn’t. She kept plowing ahead, slurping and gurgling his muscle down into her mouth. When the head touched the back of her throat she paused again.

  I saw the muscles in her neck relax.

  Then down she went. Down two more inches, then three, until the tip of her cute button nose pressed against the hard, dark muscles of Quentin’s pelvis.

  Quentin palmed the back of her head. His skull sagged back toward his shoulders as he exhaled a mighty sigh. Not of release but of relief at knowing the wet velvety feeling of her mouth again.

  Becky, dirty Becky, flexed the muscles in her throat and gack, gack, gacked as she massaged the throbbing head of his cock inside her.

  Becky held her position. Even as the tears came, as her face burned red from lack of breath, she didn’t push away. She stayed there, serving her dark master with her face until his hand fell away. Only then did she rise slowly off his pole leaving a trail of sticky slime coating it.

  When it popped out of her lips she drew in a deep breath. Yes, to take in air she desperately needed. But more than anything to announce her impossibly deep satisfaction at pleasing Quentin again.

  Quentin grabbed the root of his cock and brought it down onto the center of Becky’s forehead in a wet smack. Then he smeared her face with her own spit and bile, coating her cheeks and her nose with it.

  Becky closed her eyes, grinned and purred in pleasure at this debasement. Grabbing her tits she mashed them against each other so that Quentin had a pleasant thing to stare at as he bathed her with her own filth.

  Still holding the root of his cock with one hand, Quentin grabbed the head of his prick with the other and started to stroke. It surged to an even harder stiffness, nuts tightening beneath his legs, the shaft flexing as it prepared to spit.

  “Oh god, no, wait,” I whispered. Surely after all this waiting, all this anticipation I wouldn’t be denied satisfaction by Quentin merely ejaculating onto her face?

  Quentin started to chuckle.

  Becky did the same.


  “Relax, brother. I got this,” he said. Then a muscle in his cheek started to twitch. He grunted and looked down at Becky again. “You gonna’ take it?”

  “Yes!” she hissed.

  “Tell me.”

  “I’m gonna’ fucking take all that hot cum all over my face,” she snarled.

  Grunt.

  A thick rope of Quentin’s hot, white cream erupted from the head of his cock. Time slowed as I watched it sail through the air in a perfect arc then land in a lewd white line diagonally across Becky’s face.

  Her head lolled back, tongue flopping out. A dumb smile twisted across her lips then her mouth yawned open for Quentin’s pleasure.

  Pointing the head of his prick toward her hole he shot another wad of spunk and it landed squarely on her tongue. “Take it,” he ordered. “Take it all, bitch.”

  Becky did. She stayed on her knees with her mouth open, offering herself to him as his receptacle, crucible for his sacred seed until he was finished.

  With just a drop of creamy jizz clinging to the tip of his cock, Quentin gave it three sharp shakes, completing his emission into Becky’s face. He pressed a finger up against her chin and closed her mouth.

  Becky opened her eyes and dutifully swallowed what she’d received, then opened wide again as proof of her obedience.

  Quentin’s muscle did not sag. His erection didn’t falter for a single second. It remained as straight and stiff as when it first emerged from between his legs. It was a miracle of masculinity. He jerked his head up toward the bed. “You know how I like it,” he said.

  Becky scrambled to her feet. She tore off the skirt and underwear she was wearing, kicked off her heels and stumbled to the bed, falling down onto her back. She grabbed her thighs and spread herself apart for Quentin.

  Quentin lifted his shirt up over his head revealing washboard abs and hard pecs. He lumbered toward Becky, his shaft bouncing as he walked drawing her attention. Kneeling before her he ran his hand first along one creamy thigh, then the other, remembering what once was his. He turned to look at me. “You are one lucky man, brother,” he said.

  I barely heard him. My ears were ringing and my vision had narrowed, focused on the pink folds of Becky’s entrance. Her opening, the point of penetration Quentin would soon press into, was already winking in anticipation. It was slathered in clear goo, dollops of it oozing from her as she panted with excitement at receiving him again.

 

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