"All right?" Thomas asked, brushing her hair back from her face and gazing at her with concern.
Gently she moved her head. Nothing but the slow burn in her belly answered back. "Better than all right."
He helped her up and to the foot of the bed. Roland stretched out with his legs over the low footboard. His pungent musk already filled her nostrils, rousing her passions. She bent to take him in her mouth, savoring his taste as much as his scent.
Barb rubbed the rim of his penis's mushroom-shaped head along the cleft of her mouth, and stroked the thick girth with her tongue. His sharp, slightly salty pre-cum hit her taste buds and she teased more from the tiny slit on his crown with her tongue. Roland thrust upward, tickling her nose with his pubic hair.
She lifted her head until he popped out from between her lips. Swirling her tongue over the head of his purple tipped club, she cast a glance to his face. His eyes were shut, his mouth pulled back. High color touched his cheeks. His breathing was becoming labored, much like hers, since Thomas had begun stroking her labia from his position behind her.
He spread her legs wide and teased her pussy with his fingers before filling her with one hard thrust. One drive after another forced her head onto Roland's shaft. Thomas's balls swung between her legs, skimming the skin on her inner thighs.
Once more the men found their pace. Roland flexed up as Thomas pressed her forward and down. The smell of sex permeated the air. Sweat cooled her skin, and the only sounds were of the three of them grunting, groaning, and breathing. The bed was a silent partner in their sexual dance. If there were springs they were noiseless, yet the mattress gave with every move.
Barb was beginning to recognize the signs of incipient climax in the menor she was so close herself she fell into their pattern of thrust, withdraw. Either way, Roland moaned and came, filling her mouth and her senses.
Thomas reached around and tweaked her clit, setting her off. Her pussy contracted, trapping his cock and squeezing.
"Yes," he muttered, giving a final thrust.
For a moment, none of them moved. Then, like a film slowed to quarter speed, they pulled apart. Barb collapsed on the bed to catch her breath while the men separated to clean up.
Barb had seen the bathroom the night before. Spartan in nature, it held only the barest of necessities, meaning no bathtub. Also meaning no way to use her special bubble bath.
Still, I can't wait to get in and wash.
She stopped, examining her arms. She wasn't dirty, not at all. She sniffed. Despite not showering since her arrival and the strenuous exercise she'd just enjoyed, she didn't detect a personal odor. How unusual. She felt and smelled as though she'd just bathed.
The wonderment left her mind when Thomas strode into the bedroom already dressed.
"I must have fallen asleep," she said, rubbing her eyes.
"Maybe you didn't get as much sleep last night as you needed." Smiling, he sat beside her on the bed. "How do you feel? Any more pain?"
She thought for a moment and shook her head. "I'm okay."
"Good." As earlier, he brushed her hair away from her face. The intimate gesture comforted her. He continued, "I've never known anyone to need so much elixir. While we're gone today, do as I did this morning. Dip in the tip of your finger and use just enough to dull your pain." He grinned. "And look," he said, pointing to his nose, "Roland and I have plugged our noses with gel, so as to be protected from your pheromones. Isn't that genius? No one outside the apartment will know you are here by examining us."
Barb jerked to a sitting position. "What do you mean, 'while you're gone today'? Where are you going?"
He stared with an amused expression. "Work. We must attend work or there will be questions."
"I don't give a damn about questions. You can't leave me here alone."
"Why, of course we can. Curl up here in my bed and sleep. Just remember that there are procedures. You must follow procedures." He walked out.
"But what if someone comes to the door?" Heart in her throat, Barb followed him. She tried to keep panic from overriding logic, but it was damn hard. "Can't you stay home?"
"If we don't go to work, people will wonder why. There will be questions," Thomas explained yet again.
"We must follow procedures." Roland came into the room, echoing Thomas. He popped a capsule about an inch in length into his mouth, then broke open another about six inches long. The long capsule held liquid of some sort. He swallowed the liquid and, presumably, the first capsule.
"That's your food?"
He nodded. "All daily nourishment is in the morning. With water during the day, there is no need for more."
"But don't you get hungry?"
"Hunger has been eradicated. The government sees to our every need." Thomas said the words as though reciting a dictum. Neither he nor Roland seemed all that happy about the sentiment.
Maybe later she'd be able to appreciate that. Right now she was petrified of being on her own in this world so different from anything she knew and understood.
"Look," Thomas said, placing his hands on her shoulders. "We'll have to raise the shades, so stay away from the windows, and don't turn on any lightsnot even behind closed doors. The guards can detect daytime lighting. Movement also. But here." He opened her fist, which she'd unconsciously formed while he spoke, and folded her fingers around a glass vial with a screw top. "Here is some elixir. Try to use it sparingly." He studied her, worry clouding his eyes. "Once it's gone we can have no more until the next allotment. I don't know how we'll relieve your pain when it's depleted."
"I'll be careful."
"Good," Roland said. He waved and exited the apartment. Thomas held back, watching Barb. Then he nodded, kissed her forehead and also left. Suddenly he charged back in, shooed her back against the wall, and rushed to raise the window shades before dashing out again.
"Great." Despondent, she sank to the floor thinking longingly of the full bottle of wine stashed somewhere. She could have downed the whole thing by herself if it wasn't early morning and her stomach wasn't empty. And if not for Roland's wistful expression and awed voice telling Thomas that he'd read wine tasted like sunshine. There was no way she could deprive him of the Chardonnay. She'd have to forget a wine-enhanced pity party.
Glancing out the window from her place on the floor, she saw an overcast day. Was this as bright as their world ever became?
At the edge of her vision, she spied another hovercraft. Ducking low, she reached for the Piggly Wiggly bag on the table corner. With it in tow, she crawled backwards into the bedroom.
Sitting on Thomas' bed, she picked through the contents. In the bottom she found a package of frozen waffles, now thawed. Having no idea how Thomas had heated the lasagna from the previous night, she removed a waffle and ate it raw. Chocolate syrup, which she dug from the grocery bag, made it even tastier.
"Not bad," she mumbled, searching the bag for what else it held. She'd eaten the lasagna, and they'd shared the cheese bread. The wine remained untouched. The garlic Thomas rolled around the table would be virtually useless without something to cook it with or spread it on. Note to self: garlic is a bad food purchase. Plan better the next time you're thrown hundreds of years into the future.
"Damn," she said aloud. "Why couldn't I have gone back ten years or so? I'd know the answers to the algebra exam, and how to handle Adrian Martinez after the prom." She took a deep breath and continued her investigation of the bag, pushing aside the useless bubble bath. Nothing was left. Nothing?
She took a closer look, and with a cry of relief, dug out a new toothbrush. She squirted a bit of chocolate syrup on the last of her waffle and swallowed it before taking her treasure into the bathroom. At last! A remnant of home. Barb clutched the plastic-wrapped toothbrush to her chest, broke down, and cried.
Chapter 4
How can I get back where I belong? The question plagued her, mostly because she had no clue of where to begin.
She hadn't seen where Thomas and R
oland found her. Neither did she know what happened in her own time to send her here. If only she could remember the time immediately before Thomas lifted her and made a mad dash to the apartment.
If some event triggered the time jump, did she need to be in the same spot for a reversal to take effect? According to Thomas and Roland, there was no way she could return to the place they'd found her because guards would discover her. Considering the climate in which women were viewed in this world, that was something to be avoided at all costs.
So where did that leave her, trapped in the back of an apartment away from doors and windows? No way could that last. She was bound to be discovered, if she didn't go crazy first. The futility of it all gave her a blinding headache.
She did as Thomas instructed, dipping the tip of her finger in the elixir he'd left for her, and sucking off the moisture. She lay back on Thomas's bed, her arm slung over her eyes. After brushing her teeth, and cleaning up as best she could, she'd found one of his plain, mustard-colored tops and pants to replace the damaged blouse and skirt she'd been wearing. Taking deep breaths, she tried to get past the agony and slip into oblivion.
The expected relief came almost immediately. She sighed as the pain-lessening heat spread through her body.
Heat brought its own stimulus, however. Squirming with the tingle springing to life in her pussy, she wished the men were there to care for her needs. Then again, what was it Tommy always said? Don't ask someone else to do what you're not willing to do yourself.
She sat up and stripped off the clothing she'd donned a short while ago. With one hand she rubbed her nipples to stiff peaks. Her other hand snaked down her torso, her fingers questing for the slick passage hidden between her legs.
She'd never felt such need at home, never such a rush when she came. Of course, she'd never been with two men at one time, but even here and now, with her middle finger sliding between the lips of her labia and into the slick, warm wetness of her sex, the twisting, tight sense of anticipation had never been as great.
Pinching her nipple, she also raised her hips to accept her middle finger. Then two fingers, and finally three. They glided in easily on her juices. With ease, she swiped the moisture over her clit, already sensitive and swollen. Her gasp of pleasure hung in the air.
Down her hand traveled, pushing hard, pressing faster. Then up, to caress the nub, ratcheting up the tension in her already tightly strung nerves. Again to her pussy, this time focusing on her G-spot, which she could just touch if she strained her reach and brought her hips up all the way.
She imagined Roland and Thomas. One suckled her breast, his teeth lightly skimming her nipple, causing slivers of pain as well as wild pleasure. The other ate at her, his mouth covering her clit and his fingers deep inside, stroking her special spot.
Two men at her. Two men on her, pleasing her in every way possible.
Then the two coalesced into one. His head bobbed between her thighs. Shaggy, brown hair tickled her thighs, rough fingers abraded her nipples, broadcasting shivers of delight and making her feel alive. His tongue dipped into her cleft, lapping and licking, and his callused fingers rubbed her clit. Emotion overtook her, and she burst into tears at the same time a giant orgasm ripped through her.
Tommy. Tommy did this to her, making her see stars and moons and feel endless universes of sensation. Her breath caught in her throat. Her body went rigid and still her fingers kept at their work.
"Tommy!"
From a distant part of her mind she heard, "I have you!"
Only then did she let the climax run its course. Panting, gasping, slick with sweat, she lay spread eagle trying to find the strands at the end of the rope of normalcy.
As soon as the final remnants of the orgasm ended, a niggling ache began at the back of her neck.
"I won't take any more of that elixir," she swore. "Not until I want to die from pain." Maybe then I'll be able to think through my problem.
Dorothy found her way home from Oz by clicking the heels of her ruby slippers. This place was every bit as strange as Oz, but Barb didn't have red shoes or the magic words to send her back to 2009. One thing was certain. The elixir helped the pain, but not her ability to concentrate.
She did like the sex, though. And for all the faults of this time period, she loved having the attentions of Roland and Thomas. Too bad she didn't have a loveror lovers!like them at home.
Then something about the tone of the voice she'd heard earlier came back to her. "I have you!" Tommy's voice? If so, it held tenderness like she'd never known. He'd always been her friend, but that voicehis voice?had held something much deeper than mere friendship. Or was she wishing it so? If so, she'd wished too late to do anything about it.
With the depressing thought that she would never see Tommy again, she cried herself to sleep.
* * * *
"She sleeps." Roland's voice came at her from very far away, as in a dream.
"I want to see her." That was sweet Tommy. Her sweetheart. Her lost sweetheart now. Why hadn't she realized how deeply she felt for him until it was too late?
"Are you all right?" The bed dipped. She rolled over and found Thomas peering at her, much as on her first day. Lord! Had that only been yesterday? It felt as though she'd been with Thomas and Roland for a month already.
"Yes. I think so." She rubbed her eyes. "Have I been asleep all day?"
"I suppose you have. I'm sure it's done you good." He gently stroked her hair. "Are you in pain?"
She thought for a moment. "Just a little. Not enough to need the elixir."
A flash of disappointment lit his eyes, but then they showed only concern. "That's good. It means you're improving."
She liked Thomas. Roland, too, but he seemed more formal, a little colder, more distant. Leaning on her elbow, she kissed Thomas, a tender touch of her lips on his. His eyes darkened. He took a breath and kissed her back, tentative at first, and then with firmness. His arm cradled her shoulders.
Tracing her lips and then pressing his point, his tongue slid between her teeth to make a leisurely investigation of her mouth. Caressing her neck, he held her mouth at the right angle for deep penetration. Barb wanted penetration of a different kind by the time he skimmed his hand down to her breast for a short massage and then continued to the folds of her sex.
"You're so wet," he murmured. "But you haven't had the elixir. I don't understand."
"I can want you without being stimulated. And I do want you." Surprisingly, she found it to be true. With all the depressing thoughts of the morning, and no idea of how to leave this time, she wanted comforting. She wanted to be held and possessed and cherished. She wanted Tommy. Barring all that, she wanted something over which she had control.
"Lie on your back," she told him. He stripped in seconds and climbed into bed. His cock rose stiff and hard.
Barb crouched low, straddling his legs. She licked the crown of his penis first, and then ran her tongue along the vein that extended his length. He jerked when she took him into her mouth. She closed her eyes and slowly sheathed him. Her breasts brushed his balls. Moisture from her pussy streaked his legs.
When his thrusts increased in speed, she let him pop from her mouth. Scooting up, she positioned his crown at the slick entrance to her passage and sank onto him.
"Yes," he muttered. His eyes half-closed, he reached for her breasts. Unlike Tommy's hands in her fantasy, Thomas's hands were smooth. Still, he made her tingle with his touch. When he pinched her nipples, she jumped with feeling.
On top, she controlled the action. She pressed down, grinding her clit against the root of his cock. Fire shot through her. Flames roared along her nerves when Thomas fondled her breasts. She reached behind and played with his balls, tickling and massaging. The throb of his shaft melted her insides and she floated on waves of pure sensation.
On the bedside table, the chocolate syrup she'd used earlier on her waffle caught her eye. Impulsively, she squirted some on Thomas' nipple and licked it off. With
her knees spread wide, each thrust of his hips pressed her clit. Barb thought she'd die. She tried a little more chocolate on the other nipple.
"What is that?"
"Heaven in a bottle." Sitting up, she put a little bit on her finger and fed it to him. His eyes lit up. She gave him more.
He took the bottle from her and squirted it on her breast. The scent, mixed with the smell of sex, filled her nostrils. She almost came on that alone.
Thomas spread the chocolate around, and then let her lick the chocolate from his fingers.
"What are you going to do now?" she asked.
"Eat," he said in a deep, hoarse voice. Half-sitting, he nuzzled her breast, licking with his tongue. Pressure on her hips brought her hard against him and sent a pulsing message from his cock to her core.
When Thomas fell back, Barb leaned low over him, taking his lips, taking possession. She thrust hard and fast. Her clit rubbed his base; his balls drew up against her butt. With a moan that Thomas swallowed, she came, gripping him hard, milking his length, urging him to come with her.
Suddenly he did. His hands became vises on her hips, holding her tightly in place while he shot his cum deep inside.
A few moments later, Thomas wrapped his arms around her, keeping her on top of him. He drew the sheet over them. Barb closed her eyes and cuddled, imagining they were a real couple in a real world, not two strangers in a nightmare.
"That was my very first time," he whispered.
"You've been with other women. Hell, you've been with me how many times?"
"No. I mean that was my first time with a woman who was willing. Who made the decision of her own free will. Before, I was one of hundreds, or thousands, to a nameless body in the House of Women. Servicing men is their job and they have no choice." He stroked her hair. "Even with you, I know the elixir caused your need. It wasn't that you wanted me."
He sounded so wistful, tears stung her eyes. "You know this can't end well, don't you? Our situation is bound to be discovered. What will happen then? I want to go home and can't. I don't want you to go to prison, but I think that's where you're headed. And I can't even begin to imagine where I'll be going when we're found out."
Menage Amour 82: Tasty Treats Volume 1 Page 22
