by K T Morrison
Carly startled, her face worried as if she’d done something wrong. She said, “What? Did I—”
Hollis said, “No, it’s okay. It just felt really good…”
“I want it to—”
Hollis said, “No. The clinic told me to abstain. From the time they first contacted me, I haven’t had sex. Haven’t even touched myself. It’s very sensitive right now… Your hand felt too good…”
“Even through your pants?”
“It’s been quite a while.”
“Is it sore?”
“No, the opposite,” he said, reached up and held her chin, brushing his thumb over her lower lip. “Like ticklish. You know, where it feels so good but you just can’t take it?”
She said, “Yes,” her voice soft.
He said, “Maybe you could show me to your bedroom.”
Her eyes still on his she said, “Yes. I’d like that…”
7
Hollis stood first, wearing only his suit pants, his massive arousal pushing the material out, running crossways from between his legs and up underneath the pants pocket. His muscles rippled, and he held out a hand for Carly. She took it, and he helped her stand, her eyes level with his collar. Her skin looked electric white next to how dark he was. She wore only a bra and her skirt and tights.
“It’s this way,” she said, and she ran her fingers between Hollis’s. She stepped around the coffee table, nodding her head to Sean, raising her eyebrows, expressing, I can’t believe this is going to happen.
When the two of them passed, Sean stood and followed. All three of them walked along the hall toward the bedroom, Carly leading the way.
The bedroom shared the same view out over the twinkling lights of the city. The bed was king-size, low to the ground, set in a gleaming ebony frame.
Carly and Hollis stopped at the foot.
She looked up to her donor, her feet tucked in her velvet mules, rolling around on her ankles nervously. He still held her hands.
Turning to Sean, Hollis said, “You can have a seat there for now. Come up near the bed when we’re ready.”
“Okay,” he said, voice silent—he cleared it, then said more audibly: “Yes, okay, I’ll sit here.” There was a leather armchair by the floor to ceiling windows. He turned and sat himself in it.
Hollis loomed over his wife, lips moving down to Carly, her up on her tip-toes to meet them while he undid her bra behind her back. He ran the straps over her shoulders and let it fall free, stepping back so he could look at her. Carly was about to burst out of the room she was so nervous. Sean could see her trembling from where he sat.
Hollis said, “You’re very beautiful. Your husband is so lucky.”
Carly’s mouth worked around, but she said nothing. Sean said, “I am lucky, Carly. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Sean,” she said though her eyes remained turned up to Hollis.
Now he undid the skirt zipper behind her, stepping back and letting it run down to the floor, Carly swaying her hips from side to side and stepping out of it. She stood only in her leggings. She looked stunning. Her pale creamy skin, her upright, swaying breasts tipped with rosy pink, her nipples hardened; long, beautiful hair, so pale and so blond, tumbling behind her and over one shoulder, the tips of her locks touching her breast. She wore black leggings that hugged her tightly and showed off her curves.
Hollis tucked a finger into her waistband, lowering them on one side, revealing her belly, then lower, showing the concave hollow where her thigh met her hip. Carly helped him now, still trembling, running both her hands underneath her leggings and panties and pushing them down. Hollis stepped back to watch her. She pushed them to her knees, then lifted each leg and turned them inside out, tossing them to the floor. When she stood she did so nervously, her two hands coming together between her legs to cover herself.
Hollis said, “Let me see.” His voice was firm, his command unavoidable.
“Okay,” she whispered, and slowly she moved her two hands to hang at her sides.
Hollis looked at the tight, cleft mound she had shaved. He stepped into her space now and let his hands explore her body. He started at her shoulders, moving down her arms, big black hands covering her waist, slipping up to cover her breasts, his thumbs rolling over her rosy buds. Up over her shoulders, his hands then went down her slender back, pulling her to press against him; his hands cupped her buttocks now.
Sean saw his wife gently kiss the skin of Hollis’s chest. Puckered plump, her lips pulled a suction seal against his muscle. Working towards a nipple, she took it in her mouth, her pink tongue visible for a moment as she flicked at it then consumed it.
“Oh no,” Sean whispered, the sight so lurid that he felt lightheaded.
Her hands came up Hollis’s thighs, little fingers digging into the muscle, feeling him all around, touching the backs of his thighs, roaming the swell of his round rump. They came together then, following his belt to where it met at the buckle. Metal clicked and clanked as she undid it, fingers then tugging down his zipper.
Sean’s heart raced. He was breathing rapidly. Carly was doing the same, he could see it. Saw the excitement in her...
She parted his fly and tugged the pants down, Hollis helping out, pushing them down his thighs till they fell to the floor. He wore white briefs pulled away from his belly by his arousal. Carly’s eyes looked there. Her lips slightly parted, two hands ran over its huge shape again—a little cautious this time, not wanting to tickle him.
Her eyes turned up to Hollis, and she said, “Can I see it?”
Hollis answered by running his thumbs to the sides and then taking his briefs down and stepping out of them.
His manhood was enormous. It swung between his legs, bobbing up and down as he removed his underwear.
While Hollis’s head was turned, Carly looked to Sean, her brow knit with worry, and she mouthed, “Oh my God.”
His erect penis looked as large as her own forearm.
Hollis kissed her again, holding her neck in both hands, thumbs brushing her jawline. Carly’s hands wanted to touch that thing between his legs, but since he said he was so sensitive, instead she touched his stomach muscles, the ridge of muscle at his hipbone, her nails running up and down his thighs and up to run through his pubic hair. She stepped closer to him, her hands gripping his buttocks again, his big penis pressed against her belly between them. It made Hollis groan.
“Up, up,” he said softly in a low grumble, putting a knee on the bed and indicating for her to join him.
Carly climbed up on the bed, then turned to lay on her side, a hand covering between her legs demurely. Hollis loomed over top of her, two hands out on either side, kissing her again. Sean’s view was between his legs, getting a look at his big hanging testicles, his dangling penis that drooped to touch the sheets. Then he could see white fingers against Hollis’s black skin. His Carly handling their donor’s huge implement of conception intimately while they kissed.
Sean wiped his brow, this display about a thousand times more exciting than he even thought it could be. It was so wrong yet so permitted. So necessary. He had to sit here and take it, he shouldn’t stop this. He should just sit and watch and enjoy its beautiful significance. Enjoy it because there was no changing it. He was exempt from making a decision.
Now, while the two continued to kiss and Sean stared at his wife’s hand as it clumsily stroked their donor’s tremendous manhood, he noticed Hollis’s hand waving to him, encouraging him to join them on the bed.
This was it. This was where it was going to happen, right here right now. That thing between his legs was going to go inside Sean’s beautiful wife and those hanging eggs would loose their contents within her.
He stood, adjusting his pants, his arousal almost painful now. He walked to the side of the bed, sat on one hip up in the pillows looking down toward them where they lay at the middle of the bed. Hollis put his hands on Carly, guiding her higher.
Her head tilted up, her eyes meetin
g Sean’s upside down. She was shocked to see him there, hadn’t noticed he’d joined them. She smiled. She came up next to him, laid her head on a pillow. Her right hand felt around, looking for his. He reached out, and he held it tightly.
“I love you,” she whispered.
She lay naked on her back, head in the pillows, a hand in his, her knees up, feet flat on the bedspread, legs parted for their donor. He was on his knees between her legs, his big hands on her thighs. He got himself into position, and Carly turned to regard him now. He kissed her again, his big plump lips pinching her lower one and pulling it away, letting it pop back into place. Carly’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her excitement building with intensity. She watched between his legs as he gripped his erection put it where it should go. It looked so huge next to her. Almost unreal. Carly’s nails dug into the flesh of Sean’s palm.
Hollis pressed the tip and Sean saw Carly’s bright pink lips part for him. Huge glans fixed in place, Hollis got over her again and kissed her. Carly’s breath came rapidly, a whistling wheeze in her chest.
“Oh, Sean,” she whined. “Sean…”
Hollis pressed into her and Carly moaned.
“You okay?” Sean whispered. She didn’t answer, but he saw her head nod in small, quick increments, her eyes still fixed between them looking at that huge black thing trying to push inside her body. She dug her nails into him harder.
“Carly?” Sean whispered.
Hollis was having trouble getting it into her. Without asking, Hollis’s kisses went from her neck down to her chest, and he withdrew his penis and it fell to the sheets again. He took one of her nipples in his mouth and Carly turned to look at Sean with surprise.
Hollis plucked it, his plump lips pressed down to clamp it, pulling softly and letting it go. He said, “Where do you keep your lube?”
“Lube?” Carly gasped.
Sean said, “We don’t use lube.”
Hollis said, “Sean, I have some lube in my suitcase…”
Carly said, “I don’t want… chemicals, or anything. I want this to be natural…”
Hollis still between her legs, looked mirthfully over Carly. Her mouth worked on something to say, not sure what Hollis wanted to hear. Slowly Hollis began to smile. He closed his eyes and kissed her again, lips traveling down between her breasts, lower over her tummy. Sean watched his big huge hands gripping the outside of her thighs.
“Oh, Sean,” Carly gasped. She looked up to her husband, expression bewildered. She squeezed his hand again and he could feel her palm was sweaty.
“It’s okay, just let him work…”
“What’s he going to do?” she whispered.
Sean brushed his fingers through her hair. Hollis’s mouth made wet smacking sounds as he kissed and suckled the flesh around her belly button.
“Oh, Sean… Sean…”
Hollis worked his lips even lower now, over the soft swell where she once had sported her blonde and wiry hair. Carly’s legs moved in and out, her knees up, feet pointed and dangling loosely, Hollis’s big hands still gripping her haunches. Sean watched as his pink tongue worked its way out and reversed a trail that split her, skewered then disappeared into her bright pink folds.
Carly quivered and groaned, her hips bucked, her nails dug into Sean’s palm.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, “go with it, Carly, go with it…”
Hollis’s head rocked in circles, his tongue darting and plunging, going wide and sweeping up and down. He kept his eyes closed, lost in some sort of trance, enjoying what he was doing and Sean was very sure that he was good at it. It wasn’t like the other night when he’d attempted this with her, and she felt so uncomfortable that she rejected him. She wouldn’t reject a Citizen A. She wouldn’t reject Hollis. Maybe not just because of his status, but maybe because what he did was better. She certainly responded enthusiastically now.
Sean watched her belly rise and fall, saw a tremble in it. She made soft whimpering sounds, and she squinted her eyes tightly shut. She worked her head back and forth as if she were saying no, but her hips were in disagreement, bucking forward to receive the pleasure that Hollis’s tongue gave her.
“Sean, Sean,” she gasped again, and he noted now a shimmering sheen to her chest. Her creamy flesh had blushed.
As she began to breathe quicker, the soles of her feet stroked over Hollis’s muscular back. Still she gripped Sean’s hand, her other hand tucked up near her neck demurely, nervously. He wondered what she thought. He knew she was receiving pleasure, knew she enjoyed it, but there was a certain puritanical vise that locked her up and kept her from releasing what was inside her.
Hollis’s hands swept up and down the backs of her thighs as he continued to work, his right hand coming in to join his tongue. One long and thick black finger began to mash and probe; Sean watched it slowly sink inside his wife.
Carly gasped brightly, humped her hips to receive it, threw her legs around Hollis’s neck and locked her ankles. Her gasping became high and excited whining.
“Oh, Sean, oh, Sean… what’s he doing to me? … Mm, Sean, mm, what’s happening?…”
“I don’t know,” Sean murmured, eyes glued to the point of action, the place where another man pleasured his wife in her most intimate space. And did so masterfully.
“Oh, Sean,” she said urgently now, tugging on his hand, “oh, Sean, something’s happening…”
Now her hand clutched at her chest, dead centre over where her heart would beat. Her nails scratched over her own flesh and left fuzzy red lines.
“Oh, shoot, shoot, oh, wow, Sean,” she babbled.
“Carly… you okay?…” Sean asked her, wondering now if she was in some sort of medical crisis. But Hollis worked her harder, his hand formed in a fist, one long middle finger extended out, hard and straight, and he ran it in and out of her while his tongue darted over her sex. Carly bucked and sighed and whined.
All at once, the hand that covered her heart formed a fist and slammed down into the bedding as her back arched violently, her head thrusting back into the pillow; she twisted and writhed in the bedding and Hollis extended a hand up and lay it flat over her tummy, his fingers extending from pubic bone to rib cage. He caressed her and cradled her and held her in place while he continued what he was doing between her legs with his tongue. Carly hissed and moaned and beat the bed with her fist.
Sean swore she had dug flesh out of his palm with her crushing grip. “Carly, Carly, Carly,” he said, his face analyzing her snarling expression and trying to pry her nails out of his palm. “Carly, you’re hurting me… you okay, Carly?”
From between her legs he heard Hollis say: “She’s going to be all right, Sean.”
“What’s happening?”
Hollis continued, smoothed her stomach while withdrawing his finger from her, his narrow and calm eyes regarding Carly as her breath heaved and her breasts jiggled, her nipples scrolled to long buds.
“She’s feeling good, Sean, just feeling very good.”
He looked to Hollis and said: “Was that an orgasm?”
Hollis smiled warmly his eyes still on Carly. “Yes. That was an orgasm.”
Now Sean gripped Carly’s hand in two of his, his thumb hooked over hers, the other pressed over the back of her knuckles, and he held it close to him. He leaned to her and kissed her cheek while she heaved breath, a whine somewhere in her throat still.
Sean said, “Is she okay?”
“Yes,” Hollis said. “She’s feeling really good right now.” He rose up on his knees and caressed Carly’s thighs.
8
Carly’s cheeks glowed and Sean watched as her breathing subsided from hoarse and erratic, gradually returning to normal. As she came out of her orgasm and grew aware of her surroundings, soft moans began, hidden in her throat. She brought her hands up to cover her cheeks, and she rolled her head to Sean, her features pulled with guilt.
He leaned over to kiss her forehead. “You okay?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she whispered. “You okay?”
“I want this.”
She had no response, only stared back at him wide eyes blinking.
Between her legs, Hollis watched them, big hands stroking up and down the outside of her thighs. He said, “That’s never happened before?”
Carly shook her head no. Sean shivered, on the edge of embarrassment.
Saliva and her own wetness gleamed on the swell of her mound. Hollis’s manhood throbbed, proudly engorged, heavy, and unlike Sean’s when he was aroused, Hollis’s hung pointing downward and away from his body. It dangled between Carly’s white thighs and Sean still couldn’t get over the size of it.
The grip Carly had on his hand released as she sat up, and his fingers were damp and cold in her absence. Hollis lowered his lips to kiss her again and her thin pale hands caressed his neck lovingly, this man who had given her the first orgasm in her life. The fact that Hollis and Carly shared something intimate like that twisted at him, and he could see in his wife’s eyes a passion and awe for the man that would soon deposit his genetic material inside her. But he’d been married to her for four years and he’d never given her that pleasure—he’d rather she had it by Hollis than never having it at all.
Carly pulled from their kiss, her hands resting on Hollis’s broad chest, and looking in his eyes she said, “Can I … could I get it wet … with my mouth?”
Hollis held her shoulder with one hand, the other running up and down her back. “Yes. I’d like that.”
Then, as if to remind Sean of her pragmatism over her lewdness, she added, “To… make it slippery.”
Hollis, leaning back so his erection was presented to her said, “Careful. I am close.”
That enormous tool he had dangled stiffly right before his wife and she studied it without touching; her eyes roamed up and down. Sean inched down the bed so he could watch.
