Desire_Her Two Rivals

by Ally Miller

  “You Americans get sicker and sicker.”

  “Cut the shit,” Agent Nolte said. “I know you Russians love recording people in hotels so you can use it as blackmail later on.”

  “So what do you want from me?

  The two agents stared at each other in silence for a moment.

  “We would like to play with you,” Nolte said.

  “Play with me? What are you talking about?”

  Nolte explained his idea. A threesome. Both he and Sergei would spit roast, fuck Agent Kowalski from behind and from the front. Then Agent Kowalski would play with both of their asses, shoving her rubbed up fist deep into and giving them incredible G-spot orgasms.

  Sergei shook his head in disbelief.

  “I’m not sure about the whole fisting thing. But I definitely wouldn’t mind fucking her.

  She’s a little bit heavier than what I usually like but—”

  His words were cut short as Kowaski squeezed his cock incredibly hard.

  “AWWWW!” ne yelped. “You crazy bitch!”

  Nolte shook his head from side to side. “Now you’re getting into the spirit. Agent Kowaski likes when you talk tough to her. She may be sweet and pretty and blonde but she's quite tough.

  “This is insane,” Sergei said, shaking his head from side to side.

  Chapter 7

  Kowaski’s entire body was on fire with lust. She was going to get pounded from the front and from behind. She couldn't wait. Both men tore at her clothes, ripping her shirt off, then her bra, tearing at her stretch pants, then her already wet panties.

  Within moments all three of them were butt naked. She was surrounded by two hunky men. Sergei’s body was a bit more well-defined than Nolte’s. But they were both very attractive. And they both had rock hard cocks that were standing at full attention.

  She dropped down to her knees in front of them, reached out and took hold of their cocks. She moved her mouth from one to the other, back and forth, from one to the other, and as she pushed her head down further and further on Sergei’s cock, Nolte jerked off with one hand and played with her tits with the other. Sergei’s dick was absolutely beautiful, thick and muscular with veins snaking up and down. It tasted so delicious. She knew that he would have no problem filling her up and busting her wide open.

  Nolte told Sergei to turn around.

  “Let her put her tongue in your ass,” he continued.

  Kowaski grinned lustily and wickedly. Eat some ass? It wasn't something she'd ever done before. But she had definitely fantasized about it. She loved a man who wasn't afraid to experiments, to open himself up, to feel new things, to allow her to tickle, touch, and tease his G-spot.

  Sergei turned around and bent over. He was smooth shaven. She appreciated that. With both her hands she spread his ass cheeks and began licking around the rim of his hole.

  “Stand up, Kowaski,” Nolte said. “I’m going to give your ass a sweet rimming too.”

  She obeyed the command, got off her knees and bent over. She loved the feel Nolte’s strong hands on her ass cheeks spreading them wide. She moaned as she felt his tongue beginning to jab in and out of her hole.

  She imitated the motion with Sergei’s ass, jabbing her tongue in and out, pushing it in deeper and deeper, then under her tongue, she slipped in a finger and then another one. His hold was beginning to loosen up. Wow! So damn freaky! A train of ass eating!

  Sergei turned around, grabbed her by the chin, bent down, and kissed her, swirling his tongue in her mouth, tasting his own ass in juice. What a bunch of freaks! So fucking kinky!

  Nolte turned her around and picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his torso. Sergei grabbed Nolte’s cock and helped guide it into her pussy. So damn kinky.

  Nolte began moving in and out of her. Sergei got underneath them. He took turns licking Nolte’s cock as it went in and out of her and her wet dripping pussy. She could feel the juices beginning to leak down her legs. Sergei kissed the insides of her thighs. Then he began fingering her ass hole, slowly loosening her up.

  “Hold on. I’ll be right back,” the sexy Russian said. “I’m going to get some lube.”

  When he came back, his gorgeous cock glistened with lube. It was the most beautiful piece of man meat she'd ever seen. She felt the huge head of his cock rubbing against her asshole. He worked to than three fingers in the air in and out in out, she could feel herself loosening up.

  Moments later the large cock head entered her ass.

  “AHHHHHHHHHH!” she moaned.

  Two huge members pumped in and out of her. Her pussy and ass dripped with desire.

  Sweat dripped on all their bodies. Her fingers scraped down Nolte's back. She wasn't going to be able to take much more…

  “I’M GOING TO CUMMMMM!” she said. “AHHHHHHHHHHH!”

  She slowly lost complete control of her body. It took both men to hold her in place and keep her from falling to the floor. They didn't stop fucking her, didn't stop her running their cocks in and out of her, faster and harder. And within moments she was experiencing another wild orgasm.

  Nolte laid her down on the couch. Both men stood over her jerking off, smiling at each other. Nolte let his hands run down Sergei’s chest, then squeezed his ass.

  Kowaski had a dazed, faraway look in her eyes. She was still feeling the aftereffects of the intense orgasm. She loved seeing the two men play like that, unafraid to express themselves, to challenge conventional notions of masculinity. It was so fucking hot!

  “AAAAAHHH!” Sergei groaned as the cum began to shoot from his cock like a geyser.

  Kowalski managed to get off the couch and onto her knees. She caught the last few remaining drops of his cum. Then she licked up and down the shaft, then licked the drops from his stomach and thighs.

  With Sergei’s fresh cum in her mouth, she stood up and grabbed Nolte, shoving her tongue into his mouth.

  A snowball kiss! How hot! How delicious!

  Nolte told her to bend over. He pushed her face down on the couch. She moaned as his cock pushed into her ass. She could feel it gradually expanding and then exploding as Nolte buried a nut deep inside her. He held a tight grip on her shoulders as his thrusting hits slowed down.

  Nolte turned her on her back and spread her legs out. “Push the cum out of your ass,” he said.

  She tightened her sphincter muscles and push the thick load of cum out her fuck hole.

  Sergei quickly got down on his knees and slurped it up.

  That was the first night of many that they would spend together over the next few months.

  They had finally figured out a way to bring together both Russian and American intelligence agencies. If only the idea would spread farther and wider! Who knows what the future would hold for relations between these two powerful nations.

  THE END

  Bonus 28 of 30

  Mary’s Virgin

  Description

  Mary works as a writer for Fisch Media, a communications and media news company based in Manhattan, New York. The morning of her divorce changes her life forever. Her family doesn’t accept her, her ex-husband lingers around her neighborhood and her boss is always on her case much more adamantly than he is her co-workers. Having Chels as her best and only friend, Mary accepts her friend’s invitation to attend a speed dating event on Broadway.

  Just when Mary seemed to become despondent about her love life, Artimus, a hazel-eyed, broad-shouldered bachelor, meets Mary and shows her what it’s like to be loved and accepted by someone. They have great conversations, dinner and Artimus welcomes her into his home at any time she wishes. But before Mary can see herself with Artimus and move on from her divorce, she learns that Artimus is not just a man, rather, something from myth and legend. Artimus is a vampire with odd tastes. Not to mention that the one person Mary thought she could trust, Chels, tries to come between them.

  Chapter 1

  So, he decided to show up. I kind of hoped he wouldn’t, but perhaps he’s just as impatient
as I am to get this done and over with.

  “Alright, Mary,” my lawyer says, looking through the glass doors of the office. “He’s here and his lawyer is with him. Are you sure you want to go through with this? We can walk out right now. Nothing is finalized.”

  I nod my head as I watch Scott and his lawyer speak to each other outside the door.

  “No, I’m sure,” I say. “It’s time I let go of what’s been holding me back.”

  She nods her head. “I understand.”

  The office doors open and Scott walks in. This has been the first time I’ve seen him dress up in years. Perhaps, since the beginning of our marriage. Of course, he doesn’t keep that hair intact. That black mess, curling everywhere along his scalp, hanging loose above his stupid eyebrows, and ugly, boring, brown-eyes. He’s a child.

  “Mrs. Lankin, I’m Scott’s lawyer, Tim Brown,” the man shakes her hand.

  “Yes, yes,” Trina says. “I remember. Been here a few times already. Please, have a seat and we can get these papers signed right over.”

  As our lawyers speak to one another, Scott sits across from me and has yet said a word. He stares off into the window and here and there scratches his five ‘o clock shadow face. I don’t regret the decision to leave him, but our fights have gone on long enough. My conscious is clear and this will be good for the both of us, I hope.

  “Okay, Mary, all I need is your signature in a couple places. I need you to sign here,” Trina says, placing her finger on a line.

  I take her pen and sign. “And here.” I sign another. She flips over a few pages. “And here.” I place the ball of the pen along the line and before I can write my final signature, Scott plants his hand across the table.

  “Mary,” he says. I shake my head.

  “He speaks.”

  “I know why you’re doing this, but just know, your life before me…was nothing. You are making a grave mistake.”

  “Mary,” my lawyer says, ushering me to stay focused. I nod my head and sign my name on the last line. As I flip the pages back to the front, I peer into Scott’s eyes.

  “Guess you don’t have to worry about that now do you?”

  Our lawyers stand their feet and shake hands. “Pleasure. Thank you,” is what they say, and without another word, Scott leaves the office before any of us. A small cry within me builds, my stomach balls into a fist. It’s really over, and though I initiated it, why am I the most upset about it? Perhaps because Scott is right. Before I met him. My life was nothing, but I couldn’t let him leave believing there is an ounce of regret, and truth, to his words.

  Traffic here in Manhattan’s Times Square is without mention, busy. This morning, it feels much busier. It’s as though the world has gotten bigger, and I’ve became a slug, moving about the rest of my morning routine as slow as one.

  I pull into the garage of Fisch Media, a media outlet company that focuses on mass media news and entertainment. I check my watch. Almost 10:00 a.m. I usually must be at my cubicle by 7:00 a.m., and writing by 7:30, but unfortunately, I had to sit across from my hus—ex-husband, signing divorce papers.

  I get to the 32nd floor of the silver skyscraper, and as the doors of the elevator open, my co-workers are moving about the blue-carpeted, white-walled cubicles talking on phones, making copies and printing, holding up marketing posters and receiving opinions on them, and yelling across the room, “I got a story! I got a story! Get this!”

  It’s going to be quite a long day, I say to myself, approaching my cubicle. I power on the computer, place my purse on the floor and my coat over my cubicle wall. I take a seat and stare out the window into the snow white covered Times Square. Horns blare, fire trucks and ambulances race down the street, and people keep warm, bundled in fur coats, hats and gloves.

  “Ahem!”

  I turn to find my boss placing himself against my cubicle. His eyebrows are pressed to a wrinkle and his arms are crossed.

  “Good morning,” I say. He checks his watch then exhales.

  “Mary, it’s just past ten.”

  “Yes…”

  “And, someone decided to take their time getting to work?”

  “Mr. Gause, I had my appointment this morning. I told you last week and reminded you just yesterday that I’d be in late and you approved.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says. “But it takes three hours to sign your name on a dotted line?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Does it take you three hours to sign your name on a dotted line?”

  “No, but—”

  “But it did. It did Mary.”

  “I’m sorry… I’m just going through a rough time and I got here as fast as I could. There was traffic and—“

  “Mary,” he says, interrupting once more. “This is New York. There is always traffic.”

  I nod my head and refrain from defending myself.

  “You’re a writer. I’m sure you could’ve thought of an excuse much more creative than that, which is what I hired you for. To write and be creative. Not sign divorce papers and be late.”

  “But you said—” He raises his hand.

  “Though I approved, I wasn’t expecting you to come three,” he raises three fingers as the Nazi did, “hours late.”

  “I’ll try better,” I say, giving in.

  He scoffs and shakes his head.

  “If you tried your best, you wouldn’t need to try better. Perhaps you wouldn’t have had a divorce to deal with at all and would have been on time.”

  A lump sits in my throat. It chokes.

  “Get to work, Mary. Keep all of your personal issues outside of the workplace.”

  He turns and walks away and as he passes, Chels is stands there.

  “Did he just say that?”

  “Yeah,” I say, taking a seat at my desk. “He just did. Seems like the news of my divorce has spread around quite quickly. I think that’s quite a record for getting the news out there.”

  “But still. What an asshole. Someone should really shove their foot up his ass.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. He’s the least of my problems.”

  Chels places her hands atop my cubicle and rests her chin on her arms.

  “Aw, Mary…How’d everything go this morning?”

  “As I wanted it to, I think. Scott barely looked my way until it was just about over.”

  “You think he resents you for this?”

  “Why should he? He wasn’t the one sitting at home with a wine bottle until almost four in the morning, then waking up and seeing no one there. He also wasn’t the one who cooked, cleaned, did laundry, washed dishes and works a full-time job. He doesn’t do anything. He’s never wrong, he always has an excuse, and I was just fed up with his disloyalty. It had to happen.”

  Chels nods her head and I take a deep breath. I shouldn’t get myself stressed out over all this. I should feel much more relaxed now that I let go of one of the major problems in my life that I unfortunately made my number one priority. Chels places her hand on my shoulder.

  “You’ll find better. You will.”

  “I don’t know, Chels. After what he has put me through, you’d practically have to be inhuman to reel me in. While I’m in bed, he’s out fishing, swimming in sheets with adulterous, money-digging women. MY money.”

  Chels nods her head practically forever.

  “You should probably write that down. It was poetic,” she smiles. I try to hold my laughter but it comes out.

  “And that is why you are my best friend,” I say. “I can always rely on you to make me feel better.”

  “Uh, oh, someone going a little lesbian there on me?” she says, faking a blush.

  “I’ll put it this way, if you were a guy, I’d marry you.”

  “I’m flattered.”

  We join in laughter and then here Mr. Gause clear his throat. He is at the other end of the room, glaring at us.

  “It’s great to see that everyone in this office knows the defini
tion of work, people!” he yells, capturing the attention of every worker.

  “Jeez,” Chels says. “This guy sees and hears everything. Anyway, any plans for tonight?”

  “I’m supposed to be having dinner with the family,”

  “OH,” Chels says, making a face as though she feels my pain.

  “Right. I’m sure after what happened today, it will be a very interesting dinner.”

  “Well, be careful out there. Plenty of women been going missing lately. It’s weird. We don’t have any kind of lead besides that.”

  “Strange…Will do. Thanks.”

  Chapter 2

  We sit at the white-clothed dinner table before the aroma of pasta, meatballs, garlic bread and tall glasses of wine. My mother and father haven’t said much since I came. My grandma sits at the table in her wheelchair and all she’s kept asking every five seconds is when will she meet Scott. She’s known him for years. An empty seat sits before me with a prepared plate.

  DING-DONG! DING-DONG!

  “Ahhh,” my mother says, standing to her feet excited. She takes a gulp of wine, and this has been the loudest I’ve heard her speak in years—which was also the last time my brother was in town.

  “He’s here!” she says.

  Mother hurries to the door and father wipes his mouth from some of the red tomato sauce. “Don’t leave me at the table, Carol, I want to welcome my son too.” Father rushes behind her, and grandma looks up from a doze she had.

  “Who’d they say is here?” she asks.

  “Brian, Grandma.”

  “What?”

  “BRIAN,” I say again.

  “Speak up, dear. That man Scott ain’t teach you how to talk?”

  “I said BRIAN, Grandma!”

  “OH, BRIAN!” she exclaims, with hardly any teeth. “That boy is barely at my waist, but is as strong as an ox, that boy.”

  I hear Mother and Father welcome Brian inside with heys and hellos that destroy any welcome I’ve ever received from them. Momentarily, they meet us back into the dining room, and Brian stands in the doorway, dressed in his Marine uniform. His buzz-cut head sits above his blue garments and pins, his hand, holding his hat to his heart.