by K T Morrison
Madison said, “Press them together,” then she and Skyler slipped and bobbed a little out from between them. They each encouraged the two men, pushing on the backs of their thighs and buttocks to get closer. It was crazy but Darren complied. Now their penises pointed, connecting at the tips, then slipping their bellies along each other as they got closer, going upright against one another, Lovelace’s extending much higher now. The two bellies of their cocks pressed together and while they stood the same height, Darren’s was about half the length, Lovelace’s extending up to Darren’s own rib cage.
The girls began caressing both of them, using all their hands and keeping them pressed together. Four hands going over their hanging testicles, and stroking their shafts, and running their fingers over their glans’; the whole time the undersides of their cocks slipping up and down against each other.
The stroking hands got faster and faster, going up and down quickly, squeezing and pinching at the swollen cock heads, running fingers in circles over the flared shapes. Faster and faster until both men realized they were trying to make them come. Darren backed away, not doing it on purpose, stumbling in ecstasy, putting one foot behind him. Skyler stayed with him, now gripping him and jerking him furiously, pointing his cock toward Lovelace. And Madison did the same, her hand gripping as best she could that fat tool and stroking him, her hand going in a blur now.
The girls were laughing, watching the cocks, eyes darting to each other, smiling. They were playing some game, maybe something they’d done before, a competition of some kind. Who could make their man come first … It was so incredibly awful and dirty and he couldn’t believe he found himself in such a disgusting situation. But his heart pounded with an excited love for this event. This was something he couldn’t even believe was happening.
He didn’t care which one of the girls won, he wanted to spew his seed right now. He wanted to shoot it wherever she pointed it, he didn’t even care if it landed on Lovelace. Didn’t care if Lovelace’s white stuff started shooting out and roping all over him, he was just in love with this lewd and lascivious act. His head felt stuffed again, his hearing growing distant; he began to sway, white sheets flashing in his eyes every time her stroke went up over his glans.
He was going to go first. He was going to be the winner or the loser; whatever way these two judged the game. It was going to be tremendous. He was going to impress them, throw his fluids all over Lovelace, and Madison—and Skyler, too, probably; stray bullets striking his partner. Friendly fire ...
“There, there, hold on, hold on,” Lovelace said as he reached down and slowly took the girls’ wrists and slowed them.
Darren groaned, feeling the swelling inside him that was ready to burst—that needed to burst. It continued to swell but now he knew the release wasn’t coming.
The girls stopped and a hard ball swirled in Darren’s frontal lobe. Threatening to blot his consciousness, conspiring in some way to continue without these girls, figure out some way to launch what he had in his hanging balls out into the open air. His brain wanted release and wanted it now.
But Lovelace held the girls wrists steady, and they watched him with open smiles. He said, “Darren, I imagine this beautiful home has a bedroom or two.”
Chapter Eight
Darren would have preferred taking them all to one of the guest suites, but Madison was in the lead, walking Lovelace while holding his hand, and she brought them to the master bedroom where she had been earlier and watched Darren change. He didn’t protest, too busy following behind and watching them all. All four of them naked, stumbling in the darkened halls. Walking up the stairs and witnessing those two young and round asses lifting and shaking as they mounted the steps. Then down the hall, the feminine sashaying, even took a look at Lovelace and his strong, lithe body, and that wagging and swinging thing between his legs.
He ran his hands along the hallway wall to steady himself, turning and running the other hand now over the railing of the balcony that fell below to the steps to the foyer. Then they were clumsily banging through the double French doors that led to the bedroom suite where he shared his nights with Lynn. Madison flicked the light switch on the wall and it burst overhead, far too bright, Skyler hissing like a vampire. Lovelace laughed, turned it off, wandered to the side and slipped his hand up under a table lamp in the hallway that led into the suite.
“So bright,” Skyler moaned, her and Madison stumbling into each other, Skyler with her hands over her eyes. Lovelace was walking behind them now and he grabbed both of them by the back of the neck and squeezed them. He looked over his shoulder while he did, noticing the array of photographs that plastered the one side of the hall. He stopped and looked at them, still holding the girls by their neck, rubbing his thumbs up and down.
“Where is this one?” he said to Darren.
Darren made his way there, still a little woozy, came to stand next to the three of them, saw a picture of him and Lynn, a twelve-year-old Tabitha and a ten-year-old Owen. Owen with his summer tan, Tabitha as well, wearing a baggy Justin Bieber T-shirt. Lynn was stunning, a big bright smile under her sunglasses, also sporting a tan, honey-blonde hair pulled back so she could sun herself that day on the beach. Behind them there was sand, the trunk of a palm tree.
“Costa Rica,” he said. He placed a hand on the wall in between picture frames and leaned his weight against it.
Now all four of them stood naked in his bedroom, cramped in the narrow passageway between the hall and the suite, staring at the photographic history of the life he led with Lynn. Took them all in, birthday parties for when his babies were young, graduation when they were old, a picture of the day he dropped Tabitha off at residence in her first year of university. It was sad to see all the faces changing and having them documented here like this as though it were a museum. This was his past.
Lovelace reached a thumb out and ran it over the photographic chin of Tabitha, said, “Your daughter is incredibly beautiful. Just like her mother.”
“She is,” Darren agreed.
“She’s in school?”
“Graduated. Sort of. She’s doing an extended program in Spain this summer.”
“Smart girl?”
“Deadly smart,” he said.
Skyler’s knees made quiet pops as she squatted down to take a look at a picture frame that was put on the wall a little low. It was a birthday party, and Darren imagined she thought she might see herself at it. He didn’t think so, it was Tabitha’s twelfth. Tabitha and Skyler not having been friends since the seventh grade.
Loveless draped one arm over Madison’s shoulder, and she looked up and around taking in Darren’s past with a warm and appreciative smile. Madison leaned into the judge, her hand rubbing up and down his belly, dipping low and stroking him a little.
“Quite the family,” he said. “Quite the story, Darren.”
“I know,” he said feeling a sense this man was suggesting that it was done. Something that was in the past. Maybe in a sense it was. He didn’t know anymore. Wanted the evening to continue, wanted to see where this would go, but at the same time knew there were consequences.
He slipped behind them, sidestepping to get into the bedroom, crossed over the Persian rug and climbed onto the bed. He was feeling woozy again, the room beginning to spin a little. He tucked his penis between his legs, the thing still as stiff as steel, leaned back on his hands spread out behind him. They didn’t join him, the three of them still looking at Darren’s family pictures.
The girls found a humorous photo, swaying and clutching their stomachs, their slender backs shaking with laughter.
Skyler giggled, “Darren, look how young you are ...”
He knew the picture. Knew what would be so funny. The vacation at the ranch in Colorado. Lynn had snapped a picture of him in a cowboy hat, grinning like a young man who had been living his childhood fantasy that week.
Madison suddenly remembered something, grabbing Skyler’s shoulders, her mouth opened, her eyes wid
e, eyebrows high. She gasped, said, “I forgot,” and she tried to leapfrog but fell sideways over Skyler. She trotted toward the open walk-in closet door, her breasts bouncing and swinging. “Shoes,” she cried, running now and disappearing inside the closet.
Darren could hear her hands slapping around on the walls in there trying to find the light switch. Skyler was right behind her, hopping along on her toes and slipping into the closet. The light flicked on and in the narrow gap at the door hinge Darren could see their bare bodies close together, rifling through Lynn’s clothing. He thought to stop them, knew it was a violation of his wife’s belongings. He just felt so enervated, felt so heavy he wanted to sink right into this mattress until he was inside it. He lay back, listened to hangers being whisked, clothes being removed, the long zipper of a boot.
Lovelace walked toward Darren, then turned to face the open closet doorway, leaned an elbow on the dresser where Darren stored his shirts and ties and socks. His hand rested near a double-photo frame, two different shots of Lynn and Darren on their wedding day. Lovelace watched the girls playing dress-up.
Madison appeared in the doorway, still completely naked except she wore a pair of Lynn’s very expensive winter boots. It was undeniably sexy. This perfect young thing wearing tight black leather boots that came up just below her knee, heels raised on narrow spikes. She knew it too, showing off for the man she called her Daddy. He brought his hands together and gave her a little applause.
“There’s so much stuff in here,” she said to him breathily before turning on Lynn’s heels and disappearing in the closet once more.
Darren thought again to stop them, but he still just didn’t have the heart. He weakly said, “Girls, maybe just leave her stuff alone,” but he didn’t think anybody heard him. Both of them were back in there rummaging around, but now Loveless turned his attention to Darren and it froze him. His breath clutched in his throat when their eyes met. Loveless stalked slowly toward him, his menacing weapon bobbing and swinging, repeatedly drawing the letter W as he stepped toward the bed.
He approached Darren as though he were a woman laying on the bed in wait and he was seducing him. Darren’s skin crawled. The judge mounted him, straddling him on the bed. Darren looked up to see this powerful man staring down at him with a merciless look on his face. Darren was frozen, his skin now going to goosebumps, his nipples hardening. He wanted to say something but all the words froze in his mouth.
Loveless reached down and took Darren’s erection and gripped it, stroked it a few times. Then he twisted his hips until his big member flopped onto Darren’s and he gripped them both. He slowly began to hump it along the underside of Darren’s cock.
His mouth fell open, he couldn’t deny the pleasure, but it was horrid, and if he was stronger, he would cry for him to stop. Lovelace kept going, stroking against him and Darren looked down now to see that swollen end with the big black eye receding then advancing toward him, slipping along over top of his own meager size.
Then it was over—a slap came as a bare body jumped on the judge’s back. A slender tanned arm slipped around his neck in a V and strangled him. Thin feminine legs hooked around his waist. It was Madison, and she opened her mouth wide and bit him savagely on the neck. The judge rose, his hands coming up to grab at her but she was stuck to his back. She reared her head, her mouth wide open, deadly fangs ready to attack again.
Darren saw that they were fake. Vampire fangs. And around her neck ...? ... the collar of a black cape. She wore Lynn’s Halloween costume from two years ago. She’d gone to an office function dressed as a vampire. Played it down, not the sexy type, but more of an elegant specimen.
Madison, giggling, tried to clamp the fake teeth down on the judge again. He was laughing too, but trying to claw at her face and she bit his fingers. He stood up with her on his back and she gripped tighter and he tried to shake her off. Darren sat up, saw Skyler standing in the light of the walk-in closet wearing a pair of Lynn’s Prada heels, an Hermès silk scarf around her neck. She had her arms crossed, a big smile on her face while watching the silliness.
Now the judge stumbled to the center of the room, and he began to spin himself in circles trying to get her off. But they grew dizzy, and what began as a tight circle went off kilter, the two of them swooping and stumbling all over the bedroom. Madison wore nothing but Lynn’s cape, the knee-high boots, and fangs.
Now Skyler joined in, getting behind the judge and Madison, grabbing a corner of what Darren remembered as a quite expensive cape and tearing it upward revealing Madison’s bare tush. Skyler slapped it hard, making it bounce, and Madison yelped.
Skyler had to step away as the judge was still spinning, now going around in another circle trying to get this monkey off his back. Darren watched as Skyler winked at him and sunk her index finger deep into her mouth. As the judge stumbled around once more, growing slower as he grew dizzier, Skyler tore the cape away again revealing that bare bottom, and she slipped her index finger along the crack of Madison’s ass and then shoved it inside her hole. Madison screamed with laughter so loud he feared someone would call the cops on them. He shushed them though he found himself breaking up in laughter as well.
Madison kicked her heels up, trying to hit Skyler and she backed away laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe. She returned, tried to stab again, but she was too busy with her regaling. Poking at her cheeks rather than getting an accurate aim. Madison was screaming “No, no, no,” but she was cackling loudly, her hands coming back to cover her ass crack.
The judge stood straighter, but Madison was too heavy and he stumbled backward, his erection still sticking straight out, bobbing up and down like it was agreeing with what was happening, and then they crashed together into the dresser and Darren saw his wedding photo close and fall to its side. Skyler stumbled backward, ankle twisting sideways and breaking one of Lynn’s heels as she collapsed on the floor, laying on her back and drawing her knees up, her mouth howling in silent laughter.
The judge lurched forward, and he tried to spin with Madison again, convinced this time he would get her off. Pretty legs shot out and Lynn’s boots swiped across the low hall table and knocked the lamp to the ground where it popped with a burst of electric light and the room was dark again. The two of them then collapsed against the wall and took down half a dozen of the frame photos. They smashed on the floor with the clatter of breaking glass.
Darren jumped up, in a panic, stumbling forward and falling on his knees, walking on all fours. His three guests all on the floor laughing their asses off though this wasn’t funny. He stumbled around in the dark, wary of pressing a bare knee on broken glass, but still wanting to stop anybody from wrecking the pictures further.
The judge stood and held out a hand to help Madison as Darren tried to keep the photos from being scratched by shards of glass. With thumb and forefinger he delicately plucked jagged glass out of the frame and put them on the floor at his knees. He lined up the six frames that had been broken on the floor, leaning on the wall.
Dark red drops now appeared in the dim on his polished maple, between the wall and the Persian runner. Turned his palm to face him, saw a scarlet crescent on the heel of his right hand. He looked dumbly up to the left and saw three spectators. Madison and the judge facing him, but embracing. On the right was Skyler, broken heels kicked off, standing naked except for the scarf wrapped twice around her thin neck.
All four of them stared each at each other silently for a long moment then Skyler stepped forward, coming around on his right to avoid stepping in the broken glass. She put her hands on his shoulders and guided him to sit on the opposite side of the hall away from the carnage, his back leaning against the table where the table lamp had perched. He held his wrist, squeezing it like it would prevent the blood flow. The cut wasn’t bad, but it still bled.
She went to her knees next to him. Took the fingers of his injured hand so she could examine where he’d been cut. She unwound the scarf from her neck and wrapped it tightly
over his palm and wrist, crisscrossing around his thumb. She tied it tightly at the back of his hand. Then looking in his eyes she slowly lowered her lips and kissed where he’d been injured. The feel of her soft and feminine hands working on him, touching him and healing him, made his eyes tear. She ran her nails up his chest and over his shoulders and his nipples hardened again. She turned to face him, throwing a leg over and straddling him.
Now she was over him, looking down in his eyes and he looked up at hers. She cupped her hands to his cheeks and kissed him on the lips. He kissed her as well, felt her soft plump lips, her slick and ticklish tongue darting over his own sensitive mouth. She put her hands back to his chest, pressed herself closer, began to sit on his hips, reaching behind and finding his hardness.
Despite the madness of the last few minutes, despite the injury to his hand, despite seeing the careless handling of his past by strangers in his bedroom, he was as steely as ever. She held him firmly with three fingers and a thumb, angled him away from his body and when he felt the heat of her core touch his tip, he hissed a sharp intake of breath. His body began to tremble. She curled forward, looking down on him, and she began to wag his stiffness against her, the tip of his penis slipping up and down her pussy.
“Is this okay?” she asked him. Her voice a soft and sexy whisper.
Here it was again, the presentation of an escape. A way to avoid doing something terrible and ruining his life. This wasn’t his wife, and his wife was a good person. Maybe she was cheating on him but maybe she wasn’t. This girl was his daughter’s friend at one time. He was probably almost twenty-five years older than her. She wanted to put his penis inside her without a condom. Nothing about this was good. At least it wouldn’t be tomorrow. But right now he knew what he wanted.