Double Exposure: A Dark MMF Bisexual Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  “No it’s fine,” she breathed. “I came here to see you, Jed. Or more accurately, I wanted you to see something.”

  I snorted again, shaking my head, she was so full of shit. But sometimes it’s easier to play along, just to let her do her thing and get it over with. That way I could get back to my work faster.

  “What,” I grunted. “Make it quick.”

  And never taking her eyes from mine, Hannah spread her knees. She was wearing a Basic Instinct-type skirt suit, paired with skinny stiletto heels, and internally I groaned. Because that movie was good yeah, but it’s turned every single woman into a Sharon Stone wannabe. You can’t imagine how many females have come into my office dying to reenact that famous scene, and how many times I’ve slipped my dick in with no problem. But right now, I didn’t want it. I sure as hell didn’t want to see that dry, wrinkly cunt, I didn’t want to see Hannah doing her impersonation of a viperous blonde, because it wouldn’t be an impersonation. It was her, through and through.

  But there was nothing I could do to stop it. Never dropping my eyes, Hannah licked her finger lasciviously, winking and batting her eyelashes, and spread her knees more so that her skirt slipped up.

  “How about it big guy?” she purred throatily. “How about it?”

  But no answer was necessary because the cloth crept upwards, slowly, tantalizingly, until her pussy peeked out. Oh yeah, Hannah wasn’t wearing any underwear and those cunt lips made their appearance, glistening and moist.

  But I’m a seasoned dude. I know the difference between truly hungry twat, and twat that’s just for show. And here, the shine was off. That’s right, Hannah had coated her pussy in Crisco before coming, she’d lubed herself up with some of the tough stuff to make it look like she was a dripping whore, but in real life, that pussy was dry and shriveled. I could see through the grease that coated her, I could tell that her labia were actually small and limp, that the woman was trying to create an optical illusion by slathering herself with cooking oil.

  But Hannah didn’t stop there. Reaching between her nether lips, she pulled them apart to show me her insides, that folds spreading to reveal her hole.

  “Oh yeah big boy,” she panted. “Like what you see?”

  But if I was merely disgusted before, then I was completely repulsed now. Because instead of a beautiful hole, a honey pot dripping with sweet, female cream, the Crisco had coagulated in her vaginal opening. That’s right, instead of a thick, goopy mix, the cooking oil had become solid so it was like a plug in her pussy.

  “Um, you’ve got a problem,” I grunted, lifting an eyebrow at the woman. “Soemthing’s stuck up there.”

  Hannah ignored me, continuing to moan dramatically while holding herself open.

  “That’s right, I want you stuck up there,” she panted, “I want you, Jed.”

  But I shook my head in disgust, averting my eyes then.

  “No, I mean whatever shit you have up there is a solid now. There’s some waxy substance inside, your pussy’s not hot enough,” I continued. “That shit probably melts if you’re aroused, but honey, I know you’re cold-blooded. That sweet cunt of yours is like ice and dry like sawdust, so it can’t melt whatever goop you put in yourself.”

  Hannah snapped to then, looking down, eyes dawning with realization.

  “Shit!” she cursed. “Shit, shit, shit, they told me this stuff only needed a low cooking temperature.”

  “Yeah, but low as in stove-top low, not pussy heat low,” I ground out dryly. “You want a napkin or something?” I asked, holding out a box of tissues.

  But the blonde ignored me. Instead, she poked her index finger between her legs, scooping the gunk out and then unceremoniously wiped it on the chair cushion, leaving a nasty stain. Shit, it was so gross, there was a huge lump of wax soiling my office furniture now and I groaned inside. This was gonna be an expensive dry cleaning bill. Or more likely, I was gonna have to toss this whole chair, it was too dirty and not even the most powerful cleaning chemicals could lift that stain.

  But Hannah wasn’t even embarrassed at the fact that she’d been caught red-handed sticking Crisco up her puss, spreading her legs for her husband’s business partner. Nor was she embarrassed by the lump of goo inches away from her twat, what had been in her just moments before. Instead, she snapped her knees shut and turned to me, smiling that viperous smile once again.

  “So what do you say, Jed?” she purred once more, this time unbuttoning her top. “What do you say?”

  But before she could go further, I put a stop to it. Slamming my finger on the intercom button, I grunted, “Mrs. Cohen.”

  Immediately, the elderly lady poked her head into my office.

  “Yes, Mr. White?” she asked. “How can I help?” her voice was crisp and professional.

  “Mrs. Jones just needed some help leaving,” I said, voice mild. “Could you come in and escort her?”

  Immediately, my secretary let herself in, her matronly form a reassuring bulk.

  “Mrs. Jones, so good to see you again,” she said. “If I could just show you the way? Did you bring a jacket?”

  Hannah stood up abruptly then, shooting me an evil look.

  “No, I’m good,” she tossed off, nose in the air as she picked up her thousand dollar purse. “I’m good.”

  And like a queen, Hannah breezed outside like nothing was wrong except for the huge clump of Crisco still stuck to my chair, disgusting proof of her dry cunt.

  “Thanks Mrs. Cohen,” I grunted. “If you could shut the door, I’d appreciate it.”

  And with a knowing look, my secretary quietly closed the heavy oak slab, leaving me in the peace of my office. I looked around, still disbelieving. Holy shit, had that really happened? It wasn’t even that my law partner’s wife had come onto me, it was that her methods were beyond the pale, using cooking oil on her private parts and then baldly leaving the residue for me to clean up.

  But shaking my head again, I just flicked on my computer. Hannah was Hannah, and I didn’t care what happened to her. I just wanted Brian to come out of this alive, he’d married badly and the poor sucker was being choked alive by the relationship, the energy being sucked out of his frame with each passing day.

  So yeah, when Hannah died, I wasn’t exactly “sad.” There were parts of her that I’d seen, and they were rotted to the core. She was a human cesspool, and frankly, Brian’s better off without her. Because after her death, I told him about our fateful encounter and he was silent, staring down, expression unreadable.

  “Yo, I’m sorry bro, but I’m not making this shit up. Your wife came into my office, and see that stain there?” I pointed to the striped chair. “That’s where it happened.”

  I’d thought about chucking the furniture, but what the hell. It was evidence of his wife’s wily ways, and may as well keep it around, stashing the offensive couch in the corner so no one had to actually sit there.

  The big man turned, staring at the chair before taking a deep breath.

  “Okay, she was a ho, I get that,” he said tightly. “Many times over, trust me, I get it. But still, she was my wife. We need to pay our respects to the dead, there’s no sense in ditching her funeral.”

  I shrugged.

  “I feel fine as a no-show,” I said carelessly. “You should too.”

  But Brian shook his head, face determined.

  “Naw, the three of us need to be there. Me, you and Angie all, we need to be there so things don’t look off. I was her husband,” he said tightly. “You’re my law partner, and Angie’s her sister. Even if what we’re doing now is completely fucked up,” he said, referring to our trio. “We still need to pay our respects and make it look right. Even if it’s not right at all.”

  I shrugged carelessly.

  “Fine, I’ll show up,” I said. “To tie up loose ends if nothing else.”

  Brian nodded tightly.

  “Good,” he grunted. “The three of us are gonna be there, even if that woman disrespected me again and
again, making me the laughingstock of town. Because you know what? I’m not gonna let her take me down. In death, I’m not gonna let that bitch take me down.”

  And that’s what I love about Brian. He was under no obligation to do anything for Hannah. At this point, everyone knew that she’d been discovered at the club, nude, with the semen of a couple guys in her different orifices. Everyone knew that she’d been banging the tennis pro, and even worse, Hannah had probably been banging every single guy in town, anyone who had a penis, young, old, rich, poor, any dude with a stiffie. So no one would blame Brian for skipping out, his wife had been the village whore.

  But Brian wasn’t gonna sink to such a low level. He was going to stand by her grave with his chin up, that big frame defying the whispers and gossip, and I admired him for it. No, I loved him for it. I loved that he was going to keep a good name, that he would show the appropriate respect for a dead woman, even if she was better off dead than alive.

  So yeah, my feelings towards my law partner aren’t just about the physical, although I have to admit that he’s ungodly handsome in that black funeral suit. My feelings towards Brian are something else, something deep and moving that stirs my heart, and it shocks even me. It’s clear that I’m interested in his welfare, that I care about him, and that his well-being is fast becoming the most important thing in my life. Me, Jed White, no-good bastard caring about someone else? Yeah, it’s true.

  And to make it even more complicated, I’m developing feelings for Abby too. Can you believe it? My law partner’s sister-in-law is making me catch “feelings.” I figured it was impossible at first, given that she’s all of eighteen years. Hell, what could an innocent naïf tempt me with? I’ve seen it all, done it all with hundreds, if not thousands of women.

  But it’s partly the way she treats Brian, how she’s obviously hopelessly in love with her brother-in-law. I’m not sure how long that’s been going on, but from the way she tells it, years it seems like. And because I love anyone who adores my man, the brunette has endeared herself to me.

  But even more, it’s also the way how Angie’s determined to show respect to her dead sister, putting on a black dress and bowing her head by Hannah’s grave while supporting her mom as Jane wailed. I guess I’m just so used to being a bastard, that my lovers’ show of humility and respect has awakened something deep inside that I didn’t even know existed. Angie and Brian have made me realize that there’s so much more to life than fucking women and having a good time while treating other people like shit. They’ve shown me there’s dignity in love, that you can be the better person, rising above any situation. Yeah, their determination to do the right thing by a dead woman has made me realize just how low I’ve sunk, how out of touch I am with true feeling and emotion. And by god, but I want to change. I want to be the better person as well because there is life and truth after death, with my lovers leading the way.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Angie

  I’m not sure where this is all headed. On the one hand, I love being with Brian and Jed because they’ve opened new worlds to me. Not just the physical, although that’s amazing. But they’ve shown me real caring and respect because they haven’t taken my virginity despite being given every opportunity.

  “Please,” I’d panted even that morning, this time in Jed’s office, nude as they took turns licking my pussy. “Please, put it in.”

  I had my funeral skirt hitched over my hips, bent over Jed’s desk, and the men crouched in back of me, lapping hungrily at my steaming folds.

  “Naw baby girl,” growled Brian as he bit lightly at my clit, making me moan. “We’re saving it for the right time.”

  “Yeah,” grunted Jed, pushing his tongue up my hole, tasting my hymen once again. “You’re gonna fucking fall apart when it does happen.”

  I moaned lustily then, pussy contracting wildly as the men took me to heaven and back. Oh god, it felt so good to have their mouths and fingers there, sipping my nectar, touching every part of me deep inside. But I craved hard dick. I was absolutely ravenous for man parts and watching them do each other only made me hungrier. Besides, what was this “right time”? I didn’t get it, not at all.

  So after the screaming orgasm passed, I turned to face them, cheeks flushed, panting still as I straightened my funeral skirt, pulling it down decorously.

  “But when?” I whispered, breasts still heaving. “When?”

  The men looked at each other knowingly while sharing a smile.

  “Soon baby girl, soon,” grunted Jed.

  “Absolutely honey,” said Brian, voice as smooth as silk. “It’s coming, just you wait.”

  And I’d mewled again, helpless, unable to vocalize any words. Because I was desperate now. I’ve been drinking their cum, letting them touch every part of me, even guiding their dicks into each other’s holes, but somehow, those cocks never go into my sweet puss. They never actually penetrate between my legs, and the agony has me on edge, dying for more.

  But this was no time to think of that. Because at this very moment, we stood by the grave, faces somber, Brian and Jed handsome as sin in black suits as Hannah’s casket descended into the earth.

  “Blessed Father,” intoned the priest solemnly, hands making the motion of a cross. “Blessed Father, may I quote from one of my favorite passages, ‘Death Never Has the Last Word,’” the service continued.

  And of course, Jane wept on my arm. My mother leaned her head on my shoulder, tears coursing down her face, staining the fabric of my jacket. I felt bad, I really did, but what would Jane say if she knew what was happening between Brian, Jed, and I? What would anybody say, for that matter? Bereaved husband and bereaved sister, not only doing each other but also the bereaved law partner? The three of us, who should be mourning, instead engaged together in a hot trio, exploring the different ways to sin?

  So I made myself stare at my sister’s casket, the rich mahogany gleaming in the sunlight. Brian hadn’t spared any expense, these things are expensive and the one Hannah was buried in was at least ten grand, top of the line and custom. But that’s why I love him. Because he could have just thrown her into some cheap pine, or even bought something mid-tier. No one would blame him given the gossip about Hannah around town, and besides, there was an ugly type of reality to it all. It was going to be put in the earth, covered with dirt, so what was the point of forking out a fistful of dollars?

  But Brian’s not like that. My brother-in-law is generous, an alpha male with real heart, and his last gesture only underlined what a good man he is. I loved him all the more for it, my soul reaching out to his on this gloomy day, even if I couldn’t say anything at the moment, even if we were both stuck here as the minister droned on and on.

  But eventually, the service ended and everything was done. The crowd broke up and began milling about before heading to Brian’s house.

  “Are you okay Ma?” I asked, turning to look at Jane. Her tear-stained face was pitiful, bare of make-up and looking decades older since we’d been informed of Hannah’s death. “You okay Ma?” I repeated again. “Let’s go to the wake, I’ll make you some hot tea,” I said gently.

  But Jane wasn’t having it, shaking her head vehemently.

  “I ca- can’t go,” she stammered. “I can’t go and see all those people, not now.”

  “Mom, you have to,” I said gently, handing her another tissue. “Hannah would want you to, if only to celebrate her life.”

  My mom didn’t reply, too caught up in crying, and I felt bad. Because as the older woman bent over, I swear there were more streaks of white in her hair, the rich brown fading fast into a dour salt-and-pepper, and my heart broke for the stress she was under.

  Brian swept to the rescue at that moment.

  “It’ll be alright,” he growled, patting my mom’s hand. “It’ll be alright, let yourself grieve.”

  I looked up at him with grateful eyes, for being such a good son-in-law, even if behind closed doors we were doing the unthinkable. And what to do y
ou know, but Jed came over at that moment as well, another huge, looming form blocking out the light, so handsome that my breath caught. God, what’s wrong with me? My heart was fluttering from seeing these men at my own sister’s funeral. It was unthinkable and I felt ashamed.

  But Jed made like nothing was wrong.

  “Mrs. Moore,” he ground out, voice somber. “My condolences.”

  My mom merely leaned on Brian’s arm then, drawing strength from the big man.

  “Thank you both,” she stammered through her tears. “Thank you Brian and Jed, I appreciate it. But nothing will bring my dear girl back.”

  “I know,” Jed growled, eyes somber. “But Hannah’s in a better place now, she’s with the Heavenly Father himself, where nothing will trouble her now.”

  Jane looked like she was about to say something, but nothing came out, her lips parting with no words. And somberly, Brian shot me a look before leading my mother away, the elderly woman leaning heavily on his arm.

  Jed turned to look at me, those blue eyes calm.

  “You okay honey?” he rumbled, eyes caressing my form. “Everything okay?”

  I exhaled then, growing warm under his gaze, trembling a little inside. God, this was so wrong. We were at my sister’s funeral for crying out loud, and from the outside, we probably looked like two people clustered together in grief, sharing our sorrows. But in fact, I was trembling because Jed’s presence made me shake, my body on high whenever I was around this golden god of a man.

  I tried to get myself together, to make my heart stop fluttering like a butterfly.

  “Yeah, I’m okay,” I said with a slight smile, quivering from his nearness. “I’m okay.”

  He shot me a knowing look.

  “Then let’s go, let’s get to the house for the wake. No sense in being late,” he ground out, taking my elbow to guide me to the car. Thank god, I needed to get away from the grave, I needed to collect myself in some privacy, make sure I didn’t look like a harlot while mourning my own sister. Maybe I could stop by the bathroom and take a few deep breaths, summoning a Zen koan to make sure there was no sparkle in my eye, no wicked gleam.