by Ryan Ramsay
The planted kiss on my cheek incites an explosion of warmth from beneath my bones. My body understands hers, and I brush my fingertips across her waist, desperately trying to hold on to the tether. Our lips brush against each other, our bodies on the fritz.
“No woman has made me this hard in a long time,” I whisper across her ear, exhaling at the same time.
“That makes two of us,” she says with a sigh at the end of her laugh.
“Okay. That’s gone on long enough!”
Arnold walks down the staircase from the end of the hall in an exasperated huff. I quickly realize how Ashley does not recoil at the intrusion. He lets himself between us and takes her hand into his quite softly for the man I know him to be.
“Help me search for this broach. It’s been driving me nuts knowing I got to you later than Pete here. Please,” he adds.
She sighs.
“You know I can’t. It’s against the rules.”
“She’s right, brother,” I say.
He nods fast, seemingly accepting the status quo. Then, he looks squarely at her.
“How about when one of us does this?”
“Wha—?”
Her face and his meet where my crestfallen one starts. Arnold kisses her deep, holding her waist as if it isn’t their first time. She retaliates. I watch.
Her face melts into his. Her fingers struggle finding a point of his body to hold onto. He helps her. Their hands solidly clamp together. He uses tongue. She swallows gladly.
I am hard.
It is strange, isn’t it? I should be jealous right now. Any normal man would in a normal situation.
But this is far from normal, isn’t it?
And in such times, I believe, the unorthodox is required. Follow the North Star, they say, in the Christmas story. And my cock is pointed straight at her. I follow and grab her waist, softly perusing and pressing on the soft flesh. Gingerly I pull the brunette away.
Her eyes seem dazed. Her body confused. I pull her into me, sandwiching her between me and Arnold. I look into the universe spiraling within her eyes. The suns and planets and stars and the entire cosmos liter the field with light. The darkness looms in. Her eyelids shut. I make her taste my own as I meld with her for the first time.
The soft pepper lips welcome my own. I pump my tongue across her, prompting entry. Granted, I swim with her tongue, mating with it. Her arm moves around, and I find the end of it, holding it into my own.
I can feel her heart. It is up for the wooing.
Chapter 18
Arnold
My body feels as though in a dream state. My lips, even better. I feel alive watching the sight before me.
Ashley’s lips taste of watermelon and spiced pumpkin, her tongue of ecstasy and vast inexperience. Her eyes are closed off. Her bottom lip presses gently onto Peter’s, her right hand struggling to find a hold on his bare chest. I watch as his fingers guide her, skating thick across her pure torso and up the creases, pushing into her skin.
I feel her moan. I take her left hand. Soft. Supple. Weak.
I kiss her nails one after the other, taking the time to suck on each dollop of skin her hands offer. He bites her upper lip and strikes through her with his visible tongue. I watch her brows shoot up unexpectedly to his intrusion. I choose the moment to take her hand and dip it to my navel, where the waistband and drawstrings shift below.
A nail gets tussled in my body hair. The pain is refreshing as I play with it. Gingerly I take her hand and push it down, helping her take the strings off, loosen the short. She feels the warmth, the suddenness of it. I feel the cool earthy tender gist of her skin. She pauses threading her lips with him and unlocks their embrace.
My turn.
I pull her soft body towards me and shove myself upon her. We meet in the middle and embrace in an old lover’s tale; a tale that relives old have and have-nots in the centuries of old. I sling my arm around her waist, daring to own her for myself. She shivers under my touch, her attention divided, and her breath heavy and hot. I know she feels torn between us two, her loyalty unquenched and her want anew. I make sure she remembers me.
I make sure she remembers the feel of my coarse tongue strapping at her inner cheeks, at the sides of her sweet mouth; the undeniable Zen of my fluids. Her fingers dip lower, straddling, grabbing hard at the bulge at my shorts. God, I want to have her. I want to have her on the floor right now. Suddenly, she is gone from me and into his hands.
I open my eyes. My breathing is heavy through my mouth and nostrils. His hands slide down her waist, down the crack of her smooth ass. I take the knee and trace where he touches not. I use my fingers at first. The urge wins. I follow with my tongue, down her thighs, down to the cleft of her knees. Then back up again. Her body is learning, understanding.
I plant kisses, soft and wet, up her taught thighs. Twisting across her soft and lemon-hinted skin I make memories of this. Here, I am happy. I am unobstructed. Peter has no domain of what I do to her down here, just as I have none in what he does up there.
And so I begin.
Her thighs are hot, an effluence dripping from her source. I follow the scent; the sweet and musty scent that makes my neck hairs stand and the bulge in my shorts reveal itself. With both hands I tenderly massage her ankle.
I kiss her ass with open tongue. And then I rise up, softly twiddling, softly caressing each tendon, each muscle. She moans into his mouth, his hands; his body doing things to her that have never been done before.
I reach the apex and plunge my tongue in.
Her groans rock our budding trio. Once more I plunge into her wet hole. She tastes of promise, possibility. There are things that only man can do so much. The rest he leaves unto gods and echelons of gory myth.
Right now she is my goddess, and I must treat her as such. I must take her body and knead it into the creation I see fit. She is the one I need, the one I have wanted and needed for a very long time of my life. However, now is not the time to think of such matters. Now is the time to make her understand the inner workings of finally being appreciated.
And so I work along her twat and make out with it as I have with her lips. Her thighs resist and clamp around me. I part them easily with wide palms and dig deeper, strapping my tongue up and down from the top of her throbbing, pulsing clit to the edgy blossom of her bud. I feel her weaken. I feel her weight loosen and gain, using my jaw as a sitting stool for her own delight.
Finally. She gets it.
I crouch lower, helping her. I let her sit on my upper chest, her feet dangling by my sides. The pain in my joints only proves the truth. I want this. She needs this.
I push my tongue deeper into her tight folds. Her body resists me. The virgin shivers and riddles my chin with goose bumps. I go deeper, fighting the urge to tear her down and fuck her brains out.
If I won’t have her to myself, then the best I can do is make sure her pussy remembers me on demand.
Chapter 19
Ashley
The sheer intensity pleases my core to the point that I am sweating on the inside. The juices are flowing out of me one-way.
Peter’s hands caress and knead my breasts through my white dress. Arnold’s face is buried deep under it. My body is wanted by tow men, and I don’t know whom to choose.
They both want me, and my skin can’t handle it any more.
I want to scream. I want to melt under their grazing fingers like melted butter, to swoon at their feet and dance with them through the lazy day. I want to be owned. God, I want to be owned and toyed with like never before. All my fantasies are coming to life. Silencio Jorge has nothing on what I’m feeling. Nothing.
And Arnold’s tongue hits what I believe to be my spot.
I moan in rocking shudders into Peter’s mouth, his tongue flicking and his fingers kneading me harder. I feel his bulge threaten my thigh, hoping to break free. His hand guides mine into his shorts. I feel it.
Fuck. It’s huge.
The lasting thunder
between my thighs heightens the experience. I have no more say as to what my body can endure. My hand caresses Peter’s fat, wet-tipped hole, and I so badly want to see it. I want to feel what is beyond this empty blackness, this spicy pleasure that coats the very air that I breathe. I want to taste them as they… Oh God…as they taste me.
I think I’m gonna cum. I think I don’t wanna. Not just yet.
I break off the kiss, struggling to remember the universe as it once was.
Peter is buck naked from the waist up. His pubic hairs are smoothly flat from his navel down. Tight abs and veiny arms flash back at me. His eyes gaze into mine, a connection already set ablaze. He inches closer. His lips moistened by my own essence.
“Oh crap…Uungh! Arnold…mmhmm…”
Moaning another man’s name while who could potentially be the love of my life looks at me with a face that is just as hungry as my desire to suck his whole body off breaks open the final seal.
I rock up and down Arnold’s tongue as the wave of pleasure smacks me on the pinched nipples like a hurricane. Peter’s hands fly to my cheek, holding me delicately as I cum for the first time by another soul. Gravity wishes to take me down, but the man hoists me up like a rag doll, his physical strength matching his intense desire to lap it all up.
Now I get why orgasms are the only cure to headaches.
He lowers me slowly to the ground and takes himself out of me. I feel the thick wet piece of meat slide out, leaving the chasm empty. Arnold’s wet face comes up, a smile upon it. Pert stands alongside him, both their shorts fallen to the ground. It is unspoken. I want to do it.
Down on my knees I go as they lean back on the wall behind them. The strings to my dress are already loose, letting my breasts hang tightly before hairy thighs. I pinch the boxers with both hands and pull down. I am met with sweet motherfucking cocks both excited to see me.
“I’ve…never done this before…” I whisper breathlessly.
“It’s okay baby,” says Arnold.
“We’ll show you how,” adds Peter.
Two hands feel for my scalp and bring one of the tips to my lips. I kiss it gently, swirling my tongue around it. Arnold shudders. So this is his cock; thick like a hotdog with a side of tiny hairs running down to his soft, thick balls. A vein splits at the end of his smooth circumcised cock, running down to an unseen throbbing end. I dribble on it a little, just like the clips. I ululate with my tongue around the tip, making it cool and warm with spasms of kissing and blowing.
“Just like that baby,” he says. The power I wield is scary.
“Let me help with that,” adds Peter.
His heavy hands guide me by the neck deeper into Arnold’s pubic area. It slides right past my glands and hits the back of my throat. I choke and grunt for air.
“Jesus Ashley! That…that feels so good…”
Peter pulls me away, urging my lips to stick in a puckered state, swirling and turning my head to his every move. Arnold is almost catatonic with pleasure. And me? I am sucking the first of two cocks today. I am more alive than should be considered.
He pulls me away with a loud pop sound, pushing me into his own.
“Let me, brother,” says Arnold. Peter lets go and Arnold grabs a hold of my head, doing just what Peter did.
I am in a sucking limbo. Peter’s thin and long cock slides slick and fast. Arnold’s needs a wider mouth and more dribble. I cater for both equally. The sight is enough to make me cum again. Washboard abs and thick arms with trails of sweat running fast down their arms; the smell of pubic hair arousing and dampening me even more; my sheer nakedness before two men; sucking two equally satisfying equally tasty dicks; the rush of clamping my hands at their bases and twisting and jerking up and down to the rhythm of my tight warm mouth; the ecstasy of Arnold’s moans and Peter’s grunts; the rush of blood from my mind down to the aching throbs of my fucking cunt; the need to be naked and on a bed and with both cocks in me; the want to feel their hot semen spew up and fill my soul; the need to be held and ploughed till I can’t feel my legs.
Oh God. Mia was right.
I want this. I want this so bad it hurts. I want to see the semen jut out. I want it all over my innocent breasts. I want to fuck and get fucked like my life depends on it.
And by the sure looks of it, Arnold is going to cum first.
I push and pull my mouth muscles as I suck him more while jerking Peter off. The hallway is filled with squelching noises and popping sounds, the smell of sweat and pheromones clogging the air. My nostrils flare. My cunt pulses. His balls tighten. His chest heaves.
I never knew it to be so hot and white. The ejaculate lands on my neck and cheek, flowing down to my breasts, soiling my left nipple. Silent moans rent the air. I do not stop sucking. I do not stop jerking. My tongue is wet with sperm, and… I think…
I think I love it.
Chapter 20
Shem
“I found it. I found it! Funny how well hidden this gnarly thing was. Of all places, the kitchen cupboard inside the chia seed dispenser. Well, granted, I was having some trouble sipping the God awful juice plainly. So it made sense to sit down and make some fresh lemonade. Everything was there, fortunately. Boy, this thing is good. I won guys! I won! Guys? Guys!”
The house feels cold. Empty. Where are they?
I am at the bottom floor of the villa, walking across it with a glass of lemonade in one hand, and the golden broach in the other. I must admit though – this thing is one heck of a beauty. And it really is made of solid gold. I make a turn at one of the bedrooms adjoining the kitchen. No one, yet.
I call out again. I know the house is big, but it can’t be this big. I trip at the staircase and grab hold with my knee. Ha! Almost made a spill. I collect myself and take the glass down, enjoying every drop of it. I fist the broach tighter in my hands, feeling like a champion. I win, and I get to have my maiden as the spoils.
“Where are you guys?”
“Quiet down or they’ll hear you!” whispers a voice from the end of the hall. Mia.
“Why should I quiet down?” I ask while walking towards her frame. She leans against a length rail, her face expressing amusement. I follow her gaze.
I don’t believe it.
“That’s against the rules!” I shout.
Disappointed. Crestfallen. Aroused.
How can it be?
They stop. Well. She stops. Both cocks are in her hand, and one of them, Peter’s is in her mouth. From where I stand, I see streaks of white across her naked body. They already finished.
Ashley drops them and struggles to rise up. They help her. Three naked bodies at the end of a hall. I lean on my soles, hoping for some kind of explanation, but Mia is gone.
“Come here, Shem,” calls Ashley.
“But,” I stutter, “It’s against the rules. I won.”
“Yes, you did, my hero,” she whispers, her chest rising and falling so close to mine. “And that’s why you get to have me as the first.”
“You mean…they didn’t? You…didn’t?” I ask pointedly at my naked comrades. They shake their heads. She leans onto my chest and breathes heavily.
“I am yours. Take me while they watch.”
My head clears instantly. I take her slippery hand and pull her close. The smell of cum is heavy on her.
“Then come with me. I know just the place.”
**
The water cascades gently in steamy rivulets down her body. I pull at her nipples and burn at the sight of her open ‘o’ lips. Her body is smooth under the plunder of soap and lust, her thighs cold against my own.
I kiss her cheeks, caress her waits and pull her into me. Wet hair rests on my chest. Back to arms we slide together in embrace under the showerhead. My cock, raging and dripping at the tip, grinds hard against her ass cheeks.
Ashley moans.
I lean forward and meet her breath. Her kiss is a flowery ensemble. Her touch starts a fire inside me. Her flesh simmers like magma under the shower’s s
pray. I taste her long and hard, swimming under the duress of a queen.
I thumb her nipples down, pinching them to her gilded moans. I reach lower, skirting, holding and pulling at the folds of skin I find. Lower I go to her tasty and unshaven pussy, where a needy bean meets my eager fingers.
I rub it till it becomes jelly, her juices mixing with the water streaming down. Her impatience matches mine. Clean and wet she opens the bathroom door with her foot, letting our lips go and holding my cock out.
Her bottom lip is bitten. Her eyes are wet with anticipation. We walk into the bedroom, the bed open and dry, towels lain all over.
Wet and hungry she lays on the bed, pulling me in. Hands flitter across her, making her hair and revealing her shiny perky breasts. No introduction is necessary. I line up with her perfectly.
“Slowly, love,” she whispers, her eyes worried for the pain. I kiss her forehead and make the two tips touch.
“Always.”
She gasps at entry. I lean and push my lips on hers. The soft kiss distracts her. The wetness below distracts me.
I push it in, shaking all over at the stark contrast of cool to silky warm. Her insides resist yet invite me, like a confusing poem. She bites my lip, her body rigid. I push harder, the dripping moistness welcoming me once more. I am halfway in. She screams.
I pull my lips away and hold the position. My ass is taught. My arms hold my body weight. My knees angle it perfectly. Her nakedness smells pure, her degree of newfound womanhood profound.
“Shem…”
“I’m here, Ash.”
“Oh God, yes…Yes!”
Deeper still I find new horizons. My cock is buried deeper now, past the hymen. Her body clings to mine like a vice.
Her mouth is wide open at the sheer pain turning into ounces of pleasure. The dollops pile up. The sweetness drips longer. Her eyes turn. Her face beams. Her body heats up. She rocks now, her everything placed into making the rhythm flow.