Trust

by Alice May Ball

  Softly and sweetly he said, “Are you all done, Mrs. Harper?” I silently shook my head.

  Joe had a smile in his voice as he said, “Really, Mrs. Harper?”

  My voice raw and husky, I said, “The fire’s not out yet.”

  Clint said, “What do we do, Joe?”

  Joe stood and moved behind me. “I guess I’ll have to tackle the seat of the blaze, Clint.”

  Joe spat on his fingers and his cock for lube, and I moaned and relaxed as he massaged the cleft between my buttocks with his thumb, then pressed it into my little star. I relaxed against his thumb, then he slipped in one finger and the stretch, so near to my puss, so close to where Clint’s huge cock was already stretching me, I gasped and stared into Clint’s face, and I felt a tremor as his eyes flashed into mine, and Joe’s finger slid further into my tight, dark canal. I tried to relax my ass, struggling against the fact that my puss was tightening as hard as it could along the ridges of Clint’s hot, hard cock as it powered and plowed deep inside me. Joe had two fingers up, and then three, the tension of my barely yielding ass opening while my puss was pummeled made my pulse beat and race and I gasped and moaned. Then Fireman Joe wet his cock and docked it at my back entrance. That was a huge cock to bust into my ass. At the first, eye-popping intrusion, I yelped and my hand squeezed hard to crunch on Clint’s shoulder. The release of sparks and fireworks inside me made me almost hopelessly giddy. Joe slid in slowly, firmly, more and more, and a cry burst out from deep in my chest, rasping up my throat with the pain and delight.

  Soon, Joe’s firm tool was sawing into my ass, as Clint’s pelvis was thrusting his cock into me. Those two cocks, both of them huge, drove me slobbering wild with the force of passion and lust. My mouth fell on Clint’s chest and his neck and his lips, and the noise from my throat was like the sound of a sweating horse. I bucked and the two cocks fucked into me, my hands slammed on the floor and both my openings were raw, stretched to their limits.

  My voice was low and gruff rasping. “Fuck me, Clint, FUCK me, Joe, FUCKMEFUCKMEFUCKME!”

  Joe shoved his hot cock even farther up my stretched ass, and Clint beat and banged his massive, straining erection further and harder inside me. My lips, my puss, my ass, were all swollen, wet and stinging hot, and the two men groaned hard, Joe’s breath hot on my back, and the lids of Clint’s baby blues arching beneath me. More, we had to have more. I pressed my breasts onto Clint’s chest, and they squeezed in rhythm as we all slammed and banged, hot, heaving and sweaty into each other as hard as we could. Waves of sensation splashed and burst through me, through my thighs and my chest, from my sex and my breasts and my ass. I felt the wet release run down my thighs and onto Clint’s tensing thighs and his cock as I came.

  My juice still gushing, I struggled off the two men. I ran to the bathroom to grab a wet cloth and took it back to clean Clint’s cock, then Joe’s.

  Groaning, I wiped them, fast and thoroughly. I couldn’t bear to wait a moment longer than I absolutely had to before they were clean.

  I jammed my mouth on Clint and sucked while my eyes and my hand searched out for Joe’s massive manhood. The two men got up to their knees and I alternated, taking each cock right into my throat, sucking and sliding on it, and moaning for the thrill of the vibrations on it. Soon the two men’s tongues were back in each other’s mouths and they rubbed each other’s cocks in front of my face. I popped my lips over the heads of them, trying to avoid being slammed by the pounding fists as they brought each other’s cocks to their trembling, stiffening, raw, pulsing peaks.

  Slurping my lips over their heads in turn I urged them on. I looked up at the two men to see their mouths joined and their glistening flesh sliding against each other’s hard, muscled bodies. The men groaned and moaned and shouted into each other’s throats and I sucked and lapped as much of their silky, salty hosing of jizz as I could, but they pumped and pumped, and more and more cum splashed on my face and my neck and my tits and it dripped and drooled off my tongue. We all did what we could to clean it off me, and then we tried to lick it all off each other.

  As we finished off the cake, Joe said, “Mrs. Harper, that was a fantastic cake,” which I thought was very charming of him.

  Clint said, “Do you think you’ll bake a cake like that again, Mrs. Harper?”

  “Well, I think now that I’ve got the recipe about right, so I hope I’ll be making a lot of cakes like that, Clint.” And I remembered something, “But tell me, boys, what if I needed you to bring me some smoke detectors. Would you come in uniform then?”

  Joe said, “Why, yes, we could, Mrs. Harper. We’d have to come on a tender though, meaning there would be about six of us.”

  “Oh, my.”

  Chapter 6

  OW, THAT WAS WHAT I would call the perfect zipless fuck. Long ago, at school I remember a book that we were all crazy about where the writer talked about The Zipless Fuck.

  It meant the perfect, no strings, no words, preferably, eye to eye, body to body, lips to mouths to fuck in one instant dance. No guilt, no fear, no worry. Probably like kids in the nineties did in the dance-craze, only with no drugs and no scary diseases to worry about.

  We read that book cover to cover, over and over, under the covers, mostly. It fired our dreams. Now, here I was finding more and better zipless fucks than I would ever have believed possible.

  When I thought back over those days and nights, it was like a series of hot, erotic movies. Kind of funny in parts, goofy often, but all on fire with passion like I hadn’t felt since I was a teenager. Pure, unthinking, go-for-it lust.

  Was it bad? It sure didn’t feel any kind of bad at the time. Not except the good kinds.

  I had arranged for the foundation to make an endowment to the local university. When the board of trustees heard about it, they got in touch to thank me handsomely and to say that it would provide them with a wonderful new science block.

  Right away, I called the chancellor personally. His enthusiasm diluted when I told him that I wanted the money to be used exclusively to provide scholarships for bright, hardworking kids who wouldn’t otherwise have the chance to study at a university. As he gave me his smooth, ’of course’ responses, I could almost hear the smooth cogs whirring in his head.

  “And it’s conditional on you maintaining all of the present levels of scholarships and grants. This is to educate kids who will benefit from it, and that is how your school will shine. For important new buildings, you’ll be able to tap the alumni.”

  I was proud of myself and I thought I would make a visit. Take a look around.

  The bright cafeteria window looked out over the wide, leafy university quadrangle of sunlit paths and lawns, thronged with animated students, strolling in clusters or sprawling in groups. The burble of chat was animated with waving arms and sparkling laughs, peppered with occasional girlish yelps and masculine rumbles.

  My thoughts wandered around how they were probably all plotting evening adventures and party schemes, much like we all were in my late teens and early twenties. How to get next to this boy or that one in the sultry evening to come. How to sneak boys into your room, or to slip into theirs. We all had mental maps, more detailed than GPS, of places that were secluded, sheltered or just about secure. Indoors or out, we didn’t mind.

  And there were always cars, of course. It seemed that almost every conversation, whatever the subject appeared to be, was about how can I get into your pants, or how can I get you into my pants. Or maybe that’s just how I remember it.

  A husky voice roused me, “Do you mind if we sit at your table?”

  The big, bright, tousle-haired blond boy gave me a broad smile as I cleared my purse from the table. “You have the table with the best view.” he said. He looked flushed and hot in his red shorts and t-shirt as he put down his energy drink. He moved with the slow grace that some young men have. His taller friend with short, stylishly spiky brown hair was a little skinnier. He was glowing, too.

  “Pete’s lying to
you,” he said, through a sly grin, “He wants to sit here because you are the best view.” It was a sweet and obvious compliment, but it stirred me.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I said, “You two make a pretty pleasant prospect yourselves.”

  The blond boy’s cheeks reddened more, “Please, excuse Joel,” he said, “and please excuse us invading your table all sweaty and hot.”

  “I can’t say that I mind at all, seeing the two of you all sweaty and hot.” Their skin glistened. Their heat, their nearness and their hard breathing stirred tingling thoughts and fluttering sensations all the way through me.

  Joel said, “We’ve just been for a run, and the pool and the shower block are closed for cleaning. So, like Pete said, sorry for our dishevelment.”

  “Are you an English major, Joel?” Kids don’t use ’dishevelment’ much in my earshot.

  “Close,” he said, “Journalism. Pete’s a geek. And a virgin.”

  Pete said, “I am not a virgin.”

  “Okay, Pete, you’re a half a virgin.”

  I said, “How can you be half a virgin? Either you are or you’re not.”

  “Pete’s really bi, but he hasn’t done anything about it yet.”

  “I’m not bi.” Pete said, indignation coloring his cheeks more than ever. He looked down at the table. “I’m bi-curious is what I am.”

  “You see?” Joel was really teasing him now. “Nineteen years old, and he hasn’t even come out to himself yet.”

  I paused for a moment and looked at the two young men. They were still, sensing the moment as I did. I said, “I have a pool. And a shower. And I live quite nearby.”

  Their eyes watered and widened. “You boys would be welcome to come.” Their breath held as I looked from one to the other. “Come. Make use of them. I like what I have to get used.”

  Pete sat in front next to me as I drove the two lively students to my house, and Joel leaned forward from the back. I asked, “So, do you like girls, Pete?”

  “Oh, yes, Mrs. Harper.”

  “Take a look at his shorts, Mrs. Harper. Either Pete’s suddenly acquired one hell of a lot of silver dollars, or he likes women.”

  I sneaked a glance downward and saw that a considerable tent was forming in Pete’s lap. It was pretty flattering, I have to admit, as I didn’t think that either of these virile and vigorous students would really be interested in an ordinary, suburban woman like me. The thought was a happy one, though, and it sent tingles of rude pleasure through my chest, so my nipples rubbed uncomfortably against the inside of my bra. Clearing my throat, I said, “Joel, you don’t have to tease Pete so hard. He could be a little shy about exploring his sexuality.”

  “Shy? Pete? Wait until you get to know him better, Mrs. Harper. You may change your view on that.” Red blossoms grew and spread on Pete’s soft cheeks. And the tent in his lap stretched tighter. My chest was tight and hot.

  The two boys were still ragging and teasing each other as I showed them into the house, through the big plate glass doors in the kitchen, and out to the sunny patio and the pool.

  “Well, boys, make yourselves at home here.” I told them, “You can swim, shower, whatever you’d like.”

  Joel said, “Whatever we’d like, Mrs. Harper?” I flushed and I felt a little squirmy in my panties, but I thought I could have some fun calling Joel’s bluff.

  “Well, what would you like, Joel?”

  “I guess a swim and a shower would be nice,” he said, meekly, then for bravado I think, “For starters.”

  Pete said, “I didn’t bring my trunks.”

  “I bet you did.” Joel chipped in, “I bet you just want to peel off and get naked so that you can show your cock to Mrs. Harper.”

  Pete just blushed. Joel said, “I don’t know that Mrs. Harper wants to see your cock. Do you, Mrs. Harper, do you want to see Pete’s cock?”

  “Well, that all depends on whether Pete wants to show his cock to me.”

  Pete hesitated, and his voice was thick, “Mrs. Harper, what I really want is for you to show me your pussy.”

  “It’s a little wet right now, Pete.”

  Joel said, “Oh, you’re only a little wet, Mrs. Harper? I want to see you really wet. I want to see you drenched. I want to see your pussy hot and red and drooling wet. Do you want to see my cock, Mrs. Harper? It’s not ’a little’ hard. My cock is hard. How about yours, Pete, is your cock hard?”

  “Want to see?”

  “Show her, Pete. Take your cock out.”

  “What are you going to do, Joel?”

  “What will I do while you show Mrs. Harper your cock, Pete?”

  “Yes, Joel. What will you be doing?”

  “I’ll be shoving my cock up your ass, Pete. I think maybe you’d like to watch while I fuck Pete up the ass, wouldn’t you, Mrs. Harper?”

  I bit my lip. The thought of those two beautiful young men, there in my house, by my pool, sharing their intimacy, even as far as they were right now, and sharing with me, it made me hot and squirmy. My breath was thick and tight. Joel stood behind Pete and his fingers traced the shape of Pete’s face, stroking and caressing his throat.

  As he spoke, his voice became lower, breathier, almost a whisper. Joel’s lips slid up the side of Pete’s neck, breathing into Pete’s ear. Joel’s hand reached around to pull the front of Pete’s t-shirt up, dragging it slowly out of his shorts. His fingernails grazed along the length of Pete’s glistening stomach. Joel nibbled Pete’s neck and his eyes flashed up mischievously at me, and he pulled Pete’s t-shirt farther up, exposing the golden down on Pete’s sculpted chest. Joel’s fingers tweaked and stretched Pete’s nipples and scratched on his chest, as Pete’s eyes rolled back and his tongue moistened his lips.

  Joel’s hand dove slowly into Pete’s shorts until it had vanished. Through the fabric, I could see Joel’s fingers finding their way to Pete’s considerable erection, that they were stroking it, squeezing it, teasing and stretching it. The effect showed on Pete’s face, too. His eyes closed, his eyebrows arched and his jaw dropped open. Joel pulled Pete’s shorts slowly down, leaving only the white cotton briefs to cover his swelling and straining manhood.

  Pete’s cock lifted and stretched the white cotton above the waistband as Joel slid the shorts slowly down over his clenching thighs. When the shorts were off, slowly, gently, teasingly, Joel took a hold of Pete’s cock through the white briefs. Scratching at the top of the shaft, pulling at the bottom and slowly stroking the length of it, before diving to play with Pete’s balls, Joel allowed just the large, bulbous head to briefly rise out of the soft cotton, before he tucked it back in.

  Joel looked across over Pete’s shoulder and straight into my eyes as he held the very bottom of Pete’s cock, stretching the cotton over it and showing the shape, the length and the lovely girth of it. He said, “What do you think, Mrs. Harper? Does that look like a nice cock to you?” Pete’s eyes flickered and his hands went behind him to pull Joel by the buttocks, to pull his hips, his cock against Pete’s ass.

  “It looks like a fine, hard cock, Joel. How do you like it?”

  “It’s thick and hard. And it’s hot, too. I like it just fine.” He squeezed Pete’s cock, and Pete’s back arched as his hips flicked. Joel’s voice was thick as he said, “I’m thinking I’d like to get my lips around Pete’s cock, see how far I can get it down my throat. My tongue’s smacking for the taste of it.”

  I said, “I know just what you mean, Joel.” I stood and lifted the hem of my gray crepe skirt, up past the tops of my silky gunmetal holdups, up to reveal my sheer sea-green panties to the cooler air. That made my zinging lips and folds feel even hotter, and the cool air traced out the wetness around the tops of my thighs. Pete’s white briefs were so near, the bare strip of my stomach could sense the heat inside them. My tongue traced my top lip as I sat back on the patio chair and pulled my panties aside, and I spread my lips for Pete to see.