Sharing Their Virgin: An MMF Menage

by Ellie Hunt

  Sharing Their Virgin

  An MMF Menage

  Ellie Hunt

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  Two hot mechanics - and they want to share me!

  When my car breaks down on the way back to college, I never thought that two hot, young, dominant mechanics would come to my rescue.

  And once they take me back to their shop, I definitely never thought they’d both want to take me… at the same time!

  Even though I’m untouched and totally inexperienced, I don’t know if I can resist… but can my first time be with two rugged, rough men at once?

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  Sharing Their Virgin

  An MMF Menage

  By 11 am it was ninety-five degrees, ninety-five percent humidity. Blanche watched out her curtained front window as the construction workers dug up the pavement in front of her parents’ house, all of them dripping with sweat. It was something to do with the water lines. One of them had burst a few weeks ago closer in to town, and they were just now getting around to fixing the pipes out here on the bayou.

  She felt a little awkward watching the men through her mother’s lace curtains, especially since her parents were out of town for a week, but it was so satisfying to watch them digging through asphalt, using the jackhammers and shovels and heavy equipment, their muscles bulging and shining in the light and heat. Her book had sat closed in her lap for the better part of a half hour, ever since she arrived in the room.

  One of them wiped sweat from his brow with a red bandanna, then took a long drink from a bottle of gatorade. Something stirred in Blanche, deep down. She thought about those sweaty, muscled arms holding her tight, the dark stubble on the man’s handsome face rubbing against her own. Unconsciously, her hand slid down her body to rest on top of her shorts, right over her crotch.

  The man handed the gatorade to someone else on the crew, a blond who was a little shorter. The two men laughed at something, the blond putting one hand on the other man’s arm for just a split second.

  Blanche rubbed herself through her denim cutoffs, just a little.

  Can they see me through the lace curtains? She wondered. She tried to remember the last time she’d tried to look into the house from outside, during the day, when it was light outside and dark inside.

  She rubbed herself again, harder this time, still watching the sweaty, muscled men of the road crew work. She imagined the two who’d shared the gatorade touching each other, embracing, ripping off each other’s reflective vests.

  Blanche had discovered sex her freshman year of college—and she liked it. A strict Catholic upbringing had meant that, during high school, she’d barely ever been allowed to be alone with a boy, let alone get past first base.

  Her cunt just ached for it, and the construction workers outside, glistening and flexing and touching each other weren’t really helping.

  Without really thinking, Blanche unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts, still watching the men from her window and put her hand into her panties and her fingers onto her clit.

  Just make it fast before they look over and see you fingering yourself and watching them, she thought.

  She bit her lip and began circling her finger around her clit, slowly, her shorts a little uncomfortable, but she didn’t want to just take them off in front of the window. Then she’d be a weirdo.

  What if I got naked and stood in front of the window, she thought. Then one of them sees me, and he gets a huge erection.

  Her fingers circled faster, fueled by the fantasy. One of the men, the one with the red bandanna, swung a sledgehammer.

  He comes and knocks on my door, she thought, continuing the fantasy. I open it, still naked. All of them see me, and I invite the one guy in. The rest watch through the curtains.

  Her fingers went faster and faster, and Blanche began to feel the sensual pressure building toward her release.

  He grabs bends me over the arm of the couch, right there. He’s a little rough. He pulls my hair, and with his other hand, he unzips his pants and pulls out his enormous cock. I spread my legs wide, and he laughs at how eager I am.

  Her fingers were a blur. Blanche could feel herself about to come. She lifted her hips off the chair a little bit, her head tossed back, watching the men outside through lowered eyelids.

  He pushed his cock in real slow, she thought, the sweet ache in her cunt nearly exploding. It’s huge and long and thick and it fills me up so good, I can’t help but moan into the couch cushions…

  Then he came, her fingers still working furiously, the pent-up tension bursting out of her. Blanche bit her lip and rocked back and forth on the chair like she was trying to hump something invisible. Finally it subsided, still leaving a small ache.

  Blanche felt a little better, but certainly not satisfied. That would take more than masturbating to construction workers outside. She zipped her cutoff shorts, leaned back in the chair, and sniffed her fingers. They smelled musky, like her.

  The construction workers took a break for lunch, sitting under the big oak tree in Blanche’s front yard, eating sandwiches and talking.

  Then, as Blanche watched, they started taking their shirts off and hanging them over branches to try. She felt the deep ache start again.

  Maybe they know I’m here and they’re just taunting me, she thought.

  And then, Blanche had an idea.

  Fifteen minutes later, she carefully balanced the five glasses of ice-cold homemade iced tea on the tray her mom used and opened the front door. Going outside into the heat felt like entering a sauna, and she started sweating right away.

  Jesus, she thought. These poor guys.

  All five of them looked over at her, and Blanche smiled and waved. The men all sat up a little straighter.

  “Hey y’all,” she said when she reached them. “You just looked so hot and thirsty out here, I thought you might like a little homemade iced tea.

  “I’ll be darned,” said one man, as he took a glass. “Thank you so much, miss.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” she said, smiling at them. The other four took glasses as well, and all five men drained them almost right away.

  “Perfect,” said the man with the red bandanna. “Just sweet enough, my like mama makes.”

  “Hits the spot,” said the blond.

  The other men all agreed, thanking her profusely. Blanche noted that a few of them wore wedding rings, but not the blond or the guy with the bandanna.

  “Well, I’m right up at the house,” she said, collecting the glasses again. “Y’all let me know if you need anything, and thank you so much for fixing our water pipes in this heat.”

  “Absolutely, Miss,” said the first man who’d drunk.

  “Thank you,” the rest chorused.

  Before Blanche walked back to the house she locked eyes with the two she’d decided she wanted: the man with the bandanna and the blond. They both stared back at her with something more than friendly interest — either Blanche was losing her mind with sexual frustration, or she had a shot.

  She waved and walked away, swinging her hips back to the house.

  For the next few hours she watched the men intermittently, as they dug up the road, hopped in the pit, did something or other with the water lines. No one had come up to the house to ask for water — or anything else — yet, and she was starting to lose hope that they would. She shuffled around the house, reading her book, watching TV, fixing a snack.

  And then, at exactly five in the afternoon, someone knocked on her door.

  Through the lace-curtained window, she could see it was one of the construction workers — the one with the b
andanna. Behind him was the blond, both carrying their reflective vests and hard hats in their hands, waiting politely on her porch.

  Smiling, Blanche opened the door.

  “Hi again,” she said. “You fellas need anything?”

  “Would you mind if we used your phone, Miss?” said Red Bandanna. “Our cell phones don’t work this far out of town sometimes and we’ve got to call the office, let them know how much we got done today.

  “Sure thing,” said Blanche. She stepped aside and let them into the living room, showing them to the phone. “You want anything to drink?”

  Both of them hesitated for a moment, and Blanche saw the blond one check her out, his eyes moving hungrily from her feet to her head, when he thought she wasn’t looking.

  “That would be real nice, Miss,” he said. “That iced tea really wetted my whistle today.”

  “I’ve got a whole pitcher,” Blanche said, and padded off to the kitchen. She hummed as she poured the tea, then quickly checked herself out in a mirror on the side of the fridge. Her tank top and cutoff shorts weren’t particularly sexy, but they would have to do — she still wasn’t quite brave enough to answer the door in lingerie or less.

  When she walked back into the living room, the man with the bandanna was speaking into the phone, the blond still just standing around.

  “Yeah, we’ll be able to finish it by lunchtime tomorrow at latest,” the man on the phone said, then waited for a response. Blanche handed the blond his tea. “Sure thing. Thanks, boss,” Red Bandanna said, and then hung up the phone.

  “Thank you, Miss,” he said when she handed him tea as well. “I’m Clark, by the way.”

  “Jason,” said the blond.

  “Blanche,” she said.

  Both men drank thirstily, no wonder since they’d been outside in the damp heat all day. Blanche watched them toss their heads back, Adam’s apples bobbing as they swallowed. They were both a little dirty and very sweaty.

  Blanche imagined the grit from them getting on her skin when they touched, both men rubbing on either side of her. Sweaty and dirty: that was how she liked her men.

  They finished their drinks, set them on coasters on the coffee table, and then looked at each other and at Blanche.

  Finally she worked up her nerve.

  “Can I get you boys anything else?” she asked.

  Then she bit her lip hard, looking from one man to the other, and ran one finger up her long thigh, from knees to tattered hem. She drew her finger along the hem.

  “We do appreciate your hospitality, Miss,” said Jason, his eyes on her finger, not her eyes.

  “Anything for a few hardworking men,” Blanche said. Her cunt throbbed insistently, desperate for something to fill it up.

  It had just been so long.

  “Isn’t there anything else I can do for you?”

  Feeling even less subtle now, Blanche ran both hands down her neck and over her breasts, then to her belly, back over her chest. The worst that could happen, she figured, was that they’d leave.

  The best that could happen was another story entirely.

  Finally Jason walked over and went to put one hand on her — but in a moment, Clark had dropped his hard hat to the floor and grabbed the other man’s wrist, holding it up and back.

  They way they touched seemed very familiar.

  “Do you want to lose your job?” Clark said to Jason.

  “Look at her, man,” said Jason. “She’d practically in heat.”

  “I promise not to say anything,” Blanche said quickly. “I’m nineteen, I’m legal, I swear.”

  She looked down: both men had bulges beginning to protrude from their denim work pants. Blanche took a step forward and put one hand on each man, rubbing the bulge. Her cunt practically hummed with desire.

  “Come on,” she whispered.

  “We been talking about this,” Jason said.

  Clark looked from Jason to Blanche and back. His grip on Jason’s wrist relaxed a little, but neither man let go.

  “Talking about this?” Blanche asked, rubbing them simultaneously.

  Clark sucked in air through his teeth, grimacing a little at the hand on his crotch. Jason reached one hand out to his face, caressing him.

  “Come on, baby,” Jason said.

  Clark seemed to relax a little, the combination of Jason’s touch and Blanche’s hand on his cock through his jeans.

  “All right,” he said.

  Jason whooped, and Blanche unzipped his pants, double-time, reaching in through the opened crotch and boxers and bringing out a huge cock, hardening in her hands. Jason’s was already out by the time she turned to it, and she had one in each hand, both surprisingly big, her fingers barely wrapping around the circumference.

  “You like that?” she said.

  Blanche got on her knees, to get a better grip, and then she watched Clark grab Jason by the shoulder, hard, pulling the other man toward him. Their faces met in a rough kiss, pressing together. She could practically hear their stubble scratching together as well, the cords in their necks standing out as they strained at each other, their hands and arms bulging as they clung together, careful to keep their hips far enough for Blanche to do her work.

  They broke their kiss and leaned their foreheads together, both men breathing hard now.

  “Oh my,” gasped Clark. “This does feel nice.”

  Already on her knees, Blanche brought Clark’s cock to her mouth. She flicked out her tongue and ran it over the head of his cock, all salty and musky from working outside in the heat all day, the precum gathered at the tip delicious in her mouth.

  Clark groaned from somewhere deep in his chest, and Blanche pumped her hand up and down his cock, satisfied at the way it filled her hand. Then she moved her attentions over to Jason, reaching out her tongue to lick at the head of his cock, swirling it around slowly, covering every inch of it, licking away the precum that collected there as well.

  She moved back to Clark, putting it in her mouth now. She meant to tease a little, but the truth was that she wanted it so bad she could barely contain herself — maybe teasing was for other, more refined women. She fit her mouth over the head of his cock, cunt practically dripping at the way it filled her, stretching her jaw down, and she moved her lips as far down the shaft of his cock as she could, until the head was at the back of her mouth and her gag reflex almost triggered.

  She pulled the cock out and then pushed down onto it again, sucking up the salty, musky flavor of Clark’s cock, relishing it. Blanche couldn’t wait until this monster was in another hole — or holes — the thought alone making her feel lightheaded and ready to cum.

  She moved again to Jason, taking him in as far as she could, licking the salty sheen off of his cock as well. The taste of sex, she thought, his cock as far in her mouth as she could make it go, both men sighing and moaning, sometimes into each other’s mouths and sometimes not.

  Blanche switched back and forth and few more times, loving to watch the men make out up above, hard muscles on hard muscles, their big, rough hands grabbing and pulling, fingers sinking into flesh, but finally she couldn’t take it anymore.

  “One of you has got to fuck me,” she said.

  “I’ll take that bullet,” Jason said immediately. He took Clark by the arm, roughly, and pushed him backward until the other man stumbled onto the couch. They both shed their pants and shirts quickly, and in a moment, Blanche was also out of her cutoff jean shorts, on her knees in front of the couch, her face in Clark’s lap, waving her ass in the air for Jason to come fuck.

  He laughed softly behind her, and she heard two knees thunk onto the carpet behind her. Then the tip of his cock brushed up against her, the head bouncing against each ass cheek, the warm, soft skin against her slit. Then she felt hands lifting her shirt over her head and she took it off, the bra coming right behind it as Jason unhooked it and tossed it into the corner.

  “Lean back and let me see those titties Miss Blanche,” Jason said, and Bl
anche, still on her knees, leaned back against him, his hard hard, muscled chest warm and sticky with dried sweat, and she sighed.

  “You have got such pretty titties,” said Clark, sitting on the couch, erection waving in the air.

  Jason murmured in approval, running his hands over them, squeezing and kneading them, pinching her nipples between his fingers.

  Blanche gasped, her hips thrusting forward of their own accord, her head tilting back against Jason’s shoulder. She felt his mouth running down her neck, kissing and biting her, at the same time that one hand stole down to her pussy.

  His hands dipped into her slit and left a trail of slippery wetness up to her clit, where his fingers found that button and began pinching and rubbing.

  “Oh, yeah,” Blanche moaned. She felt like her body might explode under that one simple touch. “Fuck me, please.”

  He pinched her nipple again, then pushed her shoulder to lean her forward, her face back in Clark’s lap. “Well, if you put it like that,” he said.

  Blanche braced herself against Clark’s knees, breathlessly waiting for Jason to fuck her.

  Instead, he teased her.

  He slid the head of his cock between her lips, just barely, easing out before he could really penetrate her, rubbing it against her clit just a little, then moving back along her slit.

  Blanche whimpered. Clark put one hand on her head, stroking her hair.

  “Don’t be cruel,” Clark said.

  Jason leaned over and kissed her shoulder. “Sorry, Miss,” he said, and then, slowly but firmly, he pushed his whole cock into her waiting cunt.

  It felt like it went in forever, every millimeter giving Blanche more and more pleasure until she thought she might burst. Her lips were stretched around him, and she moaned and moaned, until she stopped.

  “Jesus, you feel good,” Jason said, moving in and out of her just a bit. “You’re so wet and tight.”

  “Fuck me,” Blanche said. She was beginning to see stars, and the pleasure was almost too much. “Use that big dick and make me cum.”