by Amy Brent
“It could be interesting,” I said thoughtfully, suddenly imagining the world that might open up if I became a bestselling author like Wynn and Lane Curtis.
I could see myself leaving Midwestern to move to Malibu with Wynn.
I could see myself traveling the country signing books and speaking to thousands of adoring fans. And fucking my fair share of them.
And the money… Jesus, what could I do with a little bit of cash in my pocket? I loved teaching, but the pay was shit, and the benefits were nil. I’d probably make more co-authoring a book with Lane and Wynn than I’d made the entire ten years of teaching at Midwestern.
“It could be interesting and profitable,” Wynn said, nodding, giving words to my thoughts. “I pitched the idea to Lane and he was intrigued. Part of the reason he’s coming here is to talk about doing something together, all three of us.”
“That’s just part of the reason,” I said resolutely, my mind circling back around to Jude. “What’s the rest of the reason.”
“He’s coming here for the same reason I did,” Wynn said, poking me with his elbow as he opened the door with his other hand. “To meet Jude.”
To meet Jude…
As I watched Wynn get out of the car and hurry toward the building to greet a few of his fans who must have heard he was in town, I started to wonder if introducing Lane Curtis to Jude was the right thing to do.
I wanted Jude to be happy.
And to experience every pleasure that life had to offer.
But I wondered how much of my enthusiasm for Lane’s visit was for Jude’s benefit and how much was for my own.
Chapter Eight: Jude
Izzy and I took our time finishing off our breakfast in the MU cafeteria. One of the perks of being a student at Midwestern University was that the cafeteria was open for breakfast, lunch, and dinner on the weekends to keep us poor students with food passes but no cash from starving.
I was in no rush to hurry home. It was relaxing, sitting there with my best friend forever talking like two horny high school girls that had just discovered the joys of sex.
Holden and Wynn were at the conference and wouldn’t be home till later in the afternoon. So, I took my time regaling Izzy with the dirty play-by-play of my night with Holden and Wynn. She had a thousand questions and I had a thousand tawdry answers. She sat wide-eyed with her mouth hanging open through most of it. Occasionally, she’d lick her lips and say something like, “Dang, girl…” or “Didn’t that hurt?”. Mostly, she sat listening quietly, enraptured by my filthy tale of the Teacher’s Pet with her two well-hung and highly-qualified instructors. Beauty and her Beasts.
“Whew, I swear, girl I’m gonna need a cold shower when we get home,” Izzy said, falling back in her chair with her tongue hanging out, dramatically fanning herself with a napkin. “I don’t see how you’re even walking today! My poor twat would be sitting in a bathtub full of ice.”
“I’m a little stiff and sore,” I admitted with a happy sigh. “But it’s a good kind of sore. Nothing I can’t handle.”
Izzy narrowed her eyes at me. “So, you’re going to be doing that all weekend long? Fucking those two studs?” She shook her head and whistled. “Lordy, you’re gonna be worn completely out by Monday. Be careful you don’t fuck yourself to death.”
“Oh, I’ll be careful,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows playfully. “But boy, what a way to go.”
Izzy and I gathered our trash and giggled as we left the cafeteria and went to our cars. I followed her back to our tiny off-campus apartment to shower and change, and to let my batteries recharge a little. And maybe sit for a bit with an icepack between my legs.
It was one of those rare Saturday mornings when I didn’t have anything I had to do. I was a grad student now, with just a couple of classes, so the long weekends of burning the midnight oil doing homework and writing papers were behind me for the most part. Plus, Holden and Wynn would be tied up at the psyche conference most of the day, so rather than sit at Holden’s house pining away for hours until my men got home and the fun began, I decided to have a little me time.
Izzy was at the apartment just long enough to shower and change, then she was out the door to meet Earl for a little pre-game fun. Earl was the star of the MU Trojans, and Izzy had convinced him that it was good luck to have sex before every home game. Granted, the Trojans lost more games than they won, but that fact never seemed to bother Earl, who would gladly service his woman anytime she pleased.
So, I had the place all to myself. I ran a hot bath, lit a few candles, pulled down the shades, put on some soft music, and locked the bathroom door in case Izzy and Earl came back home. Earl had a habit of bursting into our only bathroom to take a leak without bothering to knock. And usually he didn’t care who else was in the dinky little bathroom or what they were doing at the time. He would just nudge his way to the toilet, whip out his large black cock, and hum happily to himself as he let it fly, creating a sound that sounded like a firehose blasting into a pond.
It bothered me the first few times it happened. I would be naked in the shower or in my bra and panties leaning into the sink doing my makeup, and here would come Earl just bursting through the door like a little kid that had to pee so badly his knees were knocking. He wouldn’t even bother to close the door.
“What the fuck, Earl?” I screamed the first time it happened, cowering behind the clear, plastic shower curtain.
He glanced over casually and kept right on pissing. He shrugged and said, “Hey, Jude.” Like everyone did, he sang the words and giggled to himself, like I’d never heard that shit before. “Whatcha doin’?”
“I’m taking a shower!” I said again. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
He shrugged and pissed. “Just leakin’ Little Earl. What the fuck does it look like I’m doing?”
His response made me grin, though I bit into my lip to keep from showing it. “I’m sorry, did you just say you were leaking Little Earl?”
He nodded his head without looking at me. He stared straight ahead at the wall and continued to hum. I glanced down and got my first look at what he called “Little Earl”. If that was Little Earl, I could only wonder what Big Earl would look like.
“Well, I’m taking a shower, you can’t just kick open the door and come in here,” I said, trying to cover my private parts with my hands and arms. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of my body. To the contrary, I someday hoped to practice psychiatry in a nudist camp. The point was, Earl was Izzy’s man and Little Earl was Izzy’s cock. I had no business even being in the same room when that thing was out of Earl’s pants. The fact that we were in the same room virtually naked, was not all right in my book. I might be a hyperactive nymphomaniac, but I would never think about fucking my best friend’s boyfriend, at least not without her invitation to do so.
Before I could scream at him again, Izzy stuck her head in the door and yelled at him on behalf. “Goddammit, Earl, hurry up so we can leave! I’m fucking starving.” Izzy looked at me, cowering behind the shower curtain like nothing was out of the ordinary. She asked, “We’re going to Arby’s, Juju. You want anything?”
“Uh, a little privacy would be nice,” I said, frowning at her boyfriend who was still standing at the toilet with his cock out, humming, pissing like a racehorse. Jeez, how much had he had to drink?
“Don’t think they sell that at Arby’s,” Earl said.
“For fuck sake, Earl, come on!” Izzy roared. “Can’t you see Jude wants to shower without you pissing all over the place.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Earl shook off Little Earl and tucked him back inside his jeans. He took the time to wash his hands, then wiped his hands on his shirt as he lumbered out of the bathroom like it was no big deal.
The same thing happened the next week and the next. Soon, it became no big deal. Now, Earl can whip out Little Earl and pee right next to me without me even noticing. Weird what you can get desensitized to.
I filled the tub with steami
ng hot water and lavender bubble bath. I had already showered earlier before meeting Izzy, but I still felt icky, mainly because my pussy was continuing to ooze out the juicy remnants of things that had been deposited deep inside it during the night before. I had lost count of the number of orgasms I had had, and I knew Holden and Wynn had each cum inside me a couple of times. I was a squishy mess. And I freakin’ loved it!
I took off my clothes and stood naked in front of the mirror to look at myself for a moment. I was sure that my body would be covered with handprints and bruises from the night before with Holden and Wynn. Some of the sex got a little rough, but rough is what makes it fun for me.
Think about it. When there are just two people fucking, things can get pretty wild. When there are three of you, and two of those are huge, muscular men, pretty wild can quickly become freakin’ insane. I was manhandled and tossed around and bent into positions I didn’t know I could get into. They treated me like a human pretzel, but I gave as good as I got. I rode them both like a buckaroo at a rodeo and was pretty sure they both bore long scratches on their chests, backs, and asses from my sharp nails. I had probably left my teeth marks in them as well.
I put my hands on my hips and turned around to look myself up and down. My ass cheeks were still a little red from spankings and slaps, and my tits had a few red marks on them, but I was none the worse for wear. Any bruise or bitemark on my body was well-earned. And before this night was through, I would do my best to earn a few more.
I carefully stepped into the tub and lowered myself slowly into the hot water. It felt good on the muscles of my legs and when the hot water hit my twat, I smiled and sighed.
“Aah…” I moaned as I slowly lowered myself in. “That’s exactly what I needed.”
I lay back in the tub with the bubbles up to my neck. I leaned my head back against a folded wash cloth and closed my eyes. I was immediately at peace, my body totally relaxed. Little beads of sweat formed beneath my eyes. My nipples plumbed in the hot water. I could feel the juices oozing from between my legs.
My mind immediately began replaying the night before. I had a brain like a steel trap and a photographic memory. And what I couldn’t remember as fact, my imagination did a wonderful job of filling in the gaps.
I had brought a little toy into the bathroom with me. It was called a Pink Pussy Egg. It was a waterproof vibrator the size and shape of a small egg. Once turned on and lodged deep inside a woman’s pussy, it vibrated in a variety of waves and intensities, which you could feel not only inside your pussy and humming through your clit, but all through your entire body, like an inside-out massage. It was the most relaxing feeling I had ever experienced. I used the Pink Pussy Egg during those rare dry spells when I didn’t have a cock (or cocks) to keep me satisfied. And I used it at times like this when the dirty memories were keeping my pussy so wet that my panties squished when I walked.
My private “me time” was about to get a lot more interesting.
One of the things I had learned in psyche class was self-hypnosis; the ability to slow my breathing and clear my mind to go into a quiet, hypnotic state. I used self-hypnosis all the time to relax myself and drain stress from my body. I planned to use it now to pleasure myself.
I twisted the Pink Pussy Egg and it began to hum. I brought it to my pussy beneath the hot water, spread my legs, and slid it deep inside me, using one finger to get it in as far as it would go.
I closed my eyes and slowed my breathing as the vibrations began to hum throughout my body. The movie in my head began to play in vivid, living color as the fire deep inside my womb rekindled anew.
Chapter Nine: Jude
I remembered glancing at the digital clock on the nightstand in Holden’s bedroom. The red numbers read 02:48 AM. Holy shit… Wynn, Holden, and I had been going at it like banshees for nearly six hours, with short breaks to have a few glasses of wine, catch our breath, and to clean ourselves off before starting the next round. I was learning that you didn’t have marathon sex with two hot and horny guys without taking a break to clean up the mess now and then. And trust me, we made one hell of a mess.
Holden, Wynn, and I were laying on Holden’s bed, naked, sweating, and panting like greyhounds after a race. I was wedged between these two gorgeous men, massaging my own tits and enjoying the afterglow of yet another massive orgasm that had me squirting and gushing like a fire hose. If this kept up, Holden was going to need to buy a set of rubber sheets. Maybe two sets…
I lifted my head for a moment to have a look around the room. Holden’s bedroom looked like it had been hit by an F5 tornado. The comforter and bedsheets were stripped off and piled on the floor. The pillows were scattered about the room. Our clothes were everywhere. There were three empty wine bottles on the dresser, along with three empty glasses. My head was a little buzzed, but I was pretty sure I’d sweated out most of the alcohol I had consumed during our Olympic sex sessions. I didn’t feel high. I just felt… happy… and satisfied… very, very satisfied…
The clock flipped over to 02:49 AM.
I heard Holden grunt next to me on the bed. From the other side, I heard Wynn sigh.
“Fuck, you guys are killing me,” I said, glancing between them. “If this keeps up I’m going to need a rebushing after this night is over.”
Holden was lying to my right. He turned his head my way and gave me a curious look. “A rebushing?”
“You know,” I said, nodding toward my soppy nether region. “A rebushing. You guys are wearing out my bush, so I’ll have to get it redone when you’re through with me. Oh, come on, guys, surely you’ve heard that old joke!”
Holden’s face held blank for a moment, then he cracked up. I loved the sound of his laughter. He said, “Well, I’m pretty sure we can all chip in for that. How much does a rebushing run these days?”
“It’s very expensive,” I said, nudging him with my elbow. “I’ll get an estimate when you guys are through using and abusing my poor bush.”
“What if we’re not through with you for a while?” Wynn asked, lying to my left. “What then?”
“Then… we’ll just have to see,” I said, sighing again. I sighed when I was happy and content. And I was very happy and content. I put my hands behind my head and smiled at Wynn. His surfer boy blond hair was in his eyes, hanging over his tanned forehead like a little boy. His face was perfect, like a god. When he smiled it made my nipples grow hard and thick. They longed for his touch and the feel of his lips. I leaned my breasts toward him.
I said, “You have an evil look in your eye, Dr. Driver.”
“Evil is in the eye of the beholder, my dear,” he said with a devilish grin. He was on his side with his head propped on his hand. He started massaging my left breast with his free hand. He rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, then gave it a hard squeeze. He blew cool air on my nipple as it turned dark crimson between his fingers.
I could feel Wynn’s twelve-inch cock getting hard again as it rubbed against the side of my leg. Hells bells, this guy was freakin’ insatiable. And his recovery time was nothing short of inhuman. He’d already cum three times and was apparently ready to get back on my ride again.
Holden put his hand on my right breast and started tweaking my nipple. I guess he didn’t want my left nipple to have all the fun. He leaned in and took the nipple in his mouth and suckled like a hungry baby. As he did so, his hand trailed down my stomach, across my shaved mound, and slid down between the folds of my pussy, which was still hot and gooey from his cum.
“Mmmm… you’re a mess…” Holden said with his lips on my nipple. He glanced at Wynn. “Maybe it’s time for a shower?”
“A shower would be nice,” Wynn said. He leaned up to press his lips to mine. He kissed me gently, then rubbed noses. “Hey Jude, would you like for us to give you a shower?”
“A shower?” I gave him a wary look. “What kind of shower.”
Wynn shot Holden a quick smile. “Oh, you know, just your average shower.”
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“Why do I get the feeling that this would not be just your average shower?” I said. Wynn started nibbling at my ear, which made it very hard to concentrate on the conversation. Holden slid three fingers inside my sticky cunt and swirled them around. Jeez, these guys were distracting as fuck!
I asked, “Would this be a golden shower?”
I had watched a ton of online porn before agreeing to have sex with Holden and Wynn at the same time. Izzy called it “doing my research”. One of the videos had two guys peeing on the girl. I didn’t think I was up for that—I mean, come on, ick—but a different kind of shower might be interesting.
“Actually, it’s not a golden shower,” Holden said. I saw him give Wynn another look. They had lousy poker faces. “Although that might be interesting at some point in our relationship.”
“It might at that,” Wynn said, the devil dancing in his eyes. “I’ve heard that a warm golden shower from the right person can be quite nice.”
“What kind of shower then?” I asked, my voice a whisper as little arcs of electricity webbed through my body, ignited by Holden’s long fingers wiggling around deep inside me.
Holden ran his tongue around my nipple and smiled. “This particular shower involves a handheld shower head and two very soapy cocks.”
