Trust

by Alice May Ball

  It took a while to comfort him, but giving comfort to a big, shy, beautiful nineteen-year-old was no great hardship for me. I fed him, gave him drinks and we told each other stories. After a while, I said, “Matt, as we came in, I thought I saw you looking at Ben.”

  Matt’s eyebrows wrinkled, “That dark-haired boy working on the roof next door?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he was quiet and shy.

  “You did say that you like boys, didn’t you, Matt?”

  “Umm, yeah,” he was really quiet now.

  “Should I ask him over, Matt, so that you can meet?”

  The previous day, I had seen Ben climbing out of his big truck across the way with a belt full of hefty tools and an impish little smile, and when Matt and I came back with the shopping, and Matt was checking Ben out, I thought I saw Ben checking Matt out, too.

  In a t-shirt and jeans, I went across to Ben and I asked him if he fixed things. He said that he did, so I asked him what kinds of things and he said that he fixed TV antennas, so I said, “Oh, I’ve got one of those. Could you come over and fix it?”

  “What’s wrong with it, Mrs. Harper?”

  “Well, I really have no idea. I don’t know if there’s anything wrong with it at all. It would be good to have you come and check it out, though.”

  Ben chewed the inside of his cheek and had on a little smile as he said, “Well, sure, Mrs. Harper. I’d be glad to do that.”

  “My friend, Matt, noticed you as we came in a little while ago.”

  “I noticed that he did, Mrs. Harper.”

  “And I thought I saw you checking him out, too.”

  “He’s pretty hot, Mrs. Harper.”

  “He is, Ben. So, now could be a pretty good time to take a look at the… whatever it is you’re going to take a look at, don’t you think?”

  Ben walked in the door, and the air between he and Matt crackled. Matt looked Ben over, and he couldn’t keep his tongue off his lips. Ben’s eyes widened and his breathing got heavier. When Matt went to offer Ben a beer, he was so jumpy that he spilled the bottle he was meaning to offer Ben all down his own shirt and jeans.

  I said, “Oh, Ben, what a terrible waste of beer.”

  “No problem, Mrs. Harper. I can lick it all off. That is, if Matt doesn’t mind.” Matt’s eyes went glassy and rolled. Ben strode forward and grabbed Matt’s throat. He held him and stared hard into the boy’s eyes, and kissed him, first gently, then deeply and fiercely.

  They came apart for air for just a moment, then they plunged straight back into each other. Their hands traced and grabbed wildly over each other’s bodies. Matt yanked Ben’s belt and pulled at his jeans so hard, he didn’t even undo the fly-buttons, he just ripped them apart. They pulled each other’s jeans open and they moaned and snorted as they got each other’s cocks freed from Matt’s briefs and Ben’s red silky boxers.

  Matt held Ben from behind, his hands roaming over every sinew and furiously returning to Ben’s long, straight pink shaft of swelling manhood. Ben yanked Matt in front of him with a leer, his hands greedily exploring Matt’s ass. He pushed his cock between Matt’s buttocks, and Matt gasped to feel it so hot, so hard, so near.

  Ben’s mouth clamped on Matt’s neck and his hand reached around Matt’s waist, then slid down to take hold of Matt’s fat, beating cock. Ben’s eyes rose to peer over Matt’s shoulder to me. My jeans seemed to have become undone, and my hand had lifted my t-shirt to squeeze my breast, as I watched the two studs have at each other.

  Ben lifted Matt’s cock and drew the skin back tight as he said to me, “This is for you.”

  I got on a couch and Ben beat Matt’s cock against my aching, raw pussy. He beat my clit until it stung and I yelped. My juice was running and my hips pressed Matt’s cock to slide it hard against my slit, dragging on my clitoris, making me tremble and moan.

  Matt’s face was close to mine, and his eyes were squeezed shut. I could feel that Ben’s big, hard cock was tight between Matt’s buttocks, just like Matt’s cock was tight against my puss.

  I wanted to feel Ben. My hand smoothed over Matt’s ass until it found Ben’s long, hard member, and I started to pump it. Ben’s brow creased and he moved to get my hand away, but I grabbed him by his hair and pulled him in over Matt’s shoulder to kiss me.

  Ben kissed me and moaned as I worked his cock, and we connected, our breath, our beat, and our needs met in the space our mouths created. Then I kissed Matt and we melted together, babes adrift at sea, deliciously lost and sweetly damned.

  Ben kissed Matt while I held their cocks with my hands and my puss, and I took thrills from Matt’s pulsing heat against my quivering clit.

  Ben had found cool lube and was nuzzling his fingers into Matt’s hot ass. I took Matt’s cock and I guided it to my opening, docked it perfectly and then reached for Ben’s hot shaft, and I took it to Matt’s soft ass.

  As Ben slowly, gently opened Matt and penetrated his ass, I brought Matt slowly, gradually, and fully inside me. I slid my hips along his hot length as Ben pushed into him from behind. My hips took Matt, as his ass took Ben.

  The thrill of being at home on a sunny afternoon, being fucked by two guys at the same time, made me almost hysterical with flows, flushes, and floods of quickening ecstasy.

  I came and I shouted. I came and I wept. I came and I laughed. I came and I gushed, until I was quivering, weak-kneed, and helpless.

  Matt moved to lie back on the dining table, his ankles over Ben’s shoulders, his cock standing thicker, redder and harder than ever. The sight of Ben’s taut buttocks driving his long, hard cock into Matt’s firm, round ass again made me quiver with trembling thrills and I could hardly believe this was really happening on my sun-soaked patio.

  Matt moaned long and low, as Ben rutted him. Even watching from the floor a few feet away, the sweet-sour scent of their heat curled in my head and drew me closer.

  There was a fresh, innocence in how they were so beautiful together. My hand stroked Matt’s flexing, damp, hot, stomach and I leaned in to take a kiss from him. The tip of my tongue traced his quaking lips, and his big, wet tongue came out to press against mine. He moaned as our lips closed together, his body rocking under my hand from the motor of Ben’s cock pumping into his ass. My breath sighed long into Matt’s throat.

  My hand stretched over his bucking pelvis, felt the young, jutting, hip and slipped over his thighs to cup his balls, with Ben’s stomach beating rhythmically against the back of my hand.

  Matt’s cock was too hot, too near, too inviting for my fingers to keep away for long, and so they stroked along his length, massaged him up to the top, traced the shape over and over, dreamily relishing the firm, swelling pulse of manhood that was still growing in my palm.

  My breasts sent sparks of thrill around my body as Matt’s firm hand squeezed and kneaded them. Then he reached for my aching mound. I lifted my thigh to help him to reach me. I shook as he found my wet slit, tenderly explored the folds, and parted the channel, from the very back to the very top.

  He tenderly coaxed and squeezed my clit from the sides and below, and I moaned deep into him, our mouths still locked in a wet seal. Ben was bringing him close then holding back, and I could feel the exquisite frustration as his slick, glistening muscles tensed and writhed beneath me. He groaned in rasps that vibrated in my throat and as his fingers pressed into me, I was beginning to feel the waves within me swell and rise.

  Ben was clearly building toward an orgasm, and I wanted to get us all off together. I jumped onto the table and crawled over Matt, lowered my trembling thighs, my hot, wet, needy sex, toward Matt’s muscular lips. My breasts pressed along his flexing stomach and my mouth sought the end of his cock. I wanted that thing to fill my mouth, I wanted it in my throat, I wanted him to come as Ben’s cock came into him, and he came into my throat, and I wanted to come with my cunt in his mouth all at the same time.

  My lips slid over the shining head of Matt’s hot, hard cock, and quickly, greedily along its length.
I wanted all of him in my mouth and my throat, I wanted him filling me. When my head got to his hilt, the scent of his sex and Ben’s, so hot, so hard, and so close, was like a powerful drug.

  My hands cupped his balls as his hips bucked on Ben’s cock, slamming now into his ass. I felt the vibration as he moaned and shouted, his mouth fastened hard on my mound. His tongue stretched into me, pressing toward my g-spot, as he sucked on my buzzing, swollen clit.

  Ben shouted, “Oh, Mrs. Harper, make him cum. Make him cum, Mrs. Harper. Now. Please, Oh, yes! Matt, cum. Yes, God YES! Cum NOW!”

  Ben slammed into Matt, Matt’s cock stretched my throat and pounded. My waves of orgasm were running into each other and spouting through me. I shouted, but my voice was almost inaudible and only shook Matt’s cock.

  That made Matt come harder and harder and his spunk was overflowing from my mouth, dribbling onto his balls, and running like a stream down onto Ben’s cock. Matt shouted, his lips still clamped onto my pussy, and it drove me over another impossibly steep edge of splashing, crashing climax.

  We all sighed and snuggled and lay around, curled and wrapped up with each other for a gloriously cozy hour or more.

  Ben was the first to rouse, and he said, “I have an idea, let’s make a video.”

  Reading from the scribbled notes, I tried to look serious. I don’t think I did a very good job of it. “Matt, do you think that’s Ben’s cock, swelling up in the front of his jeans?”

  “It sure does look like it, Mrs. Harper.”

  “It looks pretty big, doesn’t it, Matt? Don’t you think that looks like a pretty big cock that Ben’s got uncoiling in his pants there, Matt?”

  “I’ll say it does, Mrs. Harper, that looks like one humungous cock Ben’s got there.”

  “Do you think that it’s pointed at you, Matt, or is it pointing at me?”

  “Well, gosh, Mrs. Harper, I’d say that first it pointed at you, then it shifted to point toward me.”

  I didn’t think that a porno really needed a script, but I was certainly enjoying the read-through, and Ben really was inhabiting the part. Matt was growing into his role, too. I watched his growth with very intense interest.

  “Mm. Would you come over here a moment, please, Matt?”

  “Why, certainly, Mrs. Harper.”

  “I was thinking, Matt, that with Ben’s cock getting so big like it is, that he might like me to suck it for him.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Harper, that’s a great idea. I’m sure that Ben would like that a lot.”

  “You think so, Matt? I thought that I could help him to make up his mind, Matt. And that’s where I’d like some help from you.”

  “Oh, well, I’d love to help you with that. What would you like me to do, Mrs. Harper?”

  “I thought that I could show Ben the way that I suck cock, how smooth and soft and wet I like to be, how deep I like to take it into my throat and all, and how much I love to suck all the cum out of a cock, and smack it up on my lips, and lick it all off my face and off the shaft of a big hot, throbbing cock, and then swallow all of that sticky cum like a greedy crack-whore. I thought that after Ben sees that, then he’d be able to decide whether he’d like me to suck his cock. What do you think, Matt?”

  “Oh, that sounds like a great idea, Mrs. Harper. How did you think you might show those hot, wet, slutty cock-sucking skills to Ben, Mrs. Harper?”

  “Well, Matt, I thought that if I sucked your cock, then Ben might get the idea from watching me do that. What do you think?”

  “I think that you’d better undo my belt, Mrs. Harper, rip these fly-buttons open, haul my thick, hardening cock out of my soft, white cotton briefs, and slide it into your soft, wet, eager red lips, Mrs. Harper. I think you ought to do that now, Mrs. Harper. I mean right now, while my cock is swelling and straining at the front of my jeans. I think you ought to suck my cock like a slutty tramp out in the back of a titty bar and let me slam it into your throat.”

  “Would you like that, Matt?”

  “Suck my fucking cock, Mrs. Harper. Swallow that pumping hosepipe. Jam it down your throat until the spasms of your wet choking bring me off like a fucking rocket. Suck my cock and make me come all over your face and your tits.”

  Ben said, “Mrs. Harper, would you pull your shirt open and let your big, soft tits spill out, so that you can beat Matt’s hard cock against them before you suck him like a drunken student nurse with six-figure debt and a ketamine habit?”

  “That’s a fantastic idea, Ben, but why don’t you come over here and rip my shirt open? Tear open my shirt and slip my huge puppies out of this bra with those big, strong hands of yours. Then you can lick my breasts and suck my nipples while I gobble on the length of Matt’s throbbing shaft.”

  The reading had us all in fits of laughter and giggles. Still, I was impatient for us to get through the reading part and try a shoot. Or even a rehearsal. Yes. A rehearsal sounded good.

  Chapter 3

  AD MY MARRIAGE BEEN MY whole life? Did my marriage and I really become one and the same, just a single thing in my own mind? When the bomb went off, it certainly did seem that way. One day I had a life, the next day I had a hole in me so wide it howled.

  What made me feel so stupid was that I hadn’t ever given one thought to what my life would be without my marriage. Every connection I had with the world, everything I knew, every picture was ripped. Some friendships survived. Sickeningly, most didn’t.

  From then I couldn’t talk about it. That tore me out of my past like a flower pulled up by the roots. I didn’t even want to tell anyone what had happened. I couldn’t bear to think about it. Some of the friendships that I lost were because they couldn’t stand for me not to talk about it.

  “We just need to know.”

  “Can’t you just say how it happened? It was so sudden.”

  No, I couldn’t ’just say.’ ’Just saying’ would mean revisiting it. Going through it. Facing it all again. The truth was, I hadn’t really faced it at all. I hadn’t accepted it. I lived with the remains, and I faced forward. That was all that I could do. And I wasn’t sure it would ever be another way.

  That’s how I came to be born, fully formed, if, somewhat confused, as a woman in, let’s say not her early thirties. When I saw myself in a mirror, I liked what I saw. But who else would ever care what I looked like. Why would they?

  Even if they did, I couldn’t rely on a man. Not ever again.

  Royston Quinn, my husband’s attorney, was a proper English gentleman. He had a fine, deep, old English speaking voice, perfect manners, and the hint of a roguish sparkle in his eye. His scent, I remember, made me imagine an old-fashioned English gentlemen’s club. An air of antique leather, sweet cigar smoke, and a breath of whiskey.

  “It’s unusual in a case like this,” how many times did I hear that phrase, I wondered, but when Royston Quinn said it, I believed that he was thinking of me. Not of the ’case,’ not of the circumstances, although they aren’t so uncommon now. And not of the money. Me.

  “We have acted for your husband in the past and if you agreed, we would be very pleased to act for you now.” He told me the pitfalls and the disadvantages first. Thoroughly, he took me through what could go wrong and how, from outside appearances, having another law firm act on my behalf would be more usual and could appear more straightforward.

  I trusted Royston Quinn and I believed him. At that time, I realized that I didn’t completely believe or remotely trust anyone. And here was a man telling me the reasons why I probably shouldn’t trust him. And I did.

  He helped me set up the charitable trusts. There was much more money than I needed, and I was passionate about it being put to good use. We arranged educational trusts and scholarships. Also, some work for children, mostly in developing countries. I was glad to think of my pain and heartbreak transforming into something good for those kids. Still, I couldn’t get too much into the details, though. It hurt too much.