by Bridy McAvoy
“No… Please… No!”
She gasped as Theo finally allowed her to come up for air. A split second later she felt the tug on her hips as someone pulled the fabric of her dress down. A couple of tugs later the dress gave up its losing battle with gravity and pooled at her feet, exposing the remainder of her skimpy, translucent white underwear to their eyes. The three men moved back to admire her as she stood there trembling. Brooke made no move to cover herself with her hands as she felt three pairs of eyes travelling up and down her body, zeroing in on the important places. She glanced nervously across at her husband to see he still hadn’t moved.
Derek extended his hand and pulled gently on hers. She stepped out of the dress and he led her across the dance floor toward one of the semi-circular booths. Meekly she followed, with the other two men behind them. Before they were halfway she felt each of them place a hand on her ass, cupping the fleshy globes and kneading them as she walked.
When they reached the booth they stopped and Brooke stood still as Derek removed the glasses and other detritus of its former occupants from the table. All the time the other two men continued to rub her ass appreciatively. Her breathing was ragged. She felt the flush on her cheeks and neck, knew that any moment the three of them would be on her again. Glancing down she saw her nipples sticking straight out, tenting the thin fabric of the bra she expected to lose very shortly.
“Oh!… God!”
The exclamation was involuntary as she felt the two men move closer to her from behind, while Derek took her face in both his hands and pulled her into a passionate kiss. Still locked in the multiple embrace, they slowly shuffled around until she faced the dance floor once more. Derek eased her backward, the other two men slowly moving to the side until she felt the sharp edge of the table rubbing against the back of her naked thighs. Unable to continue the molestation of her ass, the two men stroked her legs, kneading the flesh of her thighs above the white hold-up stockings. Without any conscious thought she allowed her legs to part, which allowed Derek to press forward into the gap. His hands moved down her flanks and then cupped her ass cheeks to lift her effortlessly and then move forward, depositing her in a sitting position on the table.
Looking down, Brooke realized her vulnerable crutch was positioned right at the edge of the table, her widespread legs offering no protection at all. Derek looked into her eyes.
“Lose the bra, honey. We wanna see those tits of yours.”
She thought of them as breasts not tits, and would normally object to the cruder language, but not this time. Brooke realized with a start she hadn’t done so earlier either when they had used such words. Her hands moved of their own volition, meeting in the middle of her back and undoing the clasp. She watched all three men crowd round in front of her, craning to see the prize unveiled. The strapless bra clung to her for a moment and then the tautness of the fabric dissipated and it fell slowly away, catching on her nipples for a moment before dropping to drape on her thighs. There was complete silence from the three men and she smiled at their obvious appreciation of her charms.
Provocatively, as if taking charge, she put her hands flat on the table slightly behind her and leaned back, arching her back a little and pushing her breasts out. Derek lifted one hand and extended his forefinger and thumb toward the hard nipple. Brooke lowered her gaze and watched as he inched his hand forward, his earlier confidence gone, almost deferential in his approach. She smiled at him as the finger and thumb curled softly around her nipple and then gasped as they tightened on the hard nub of flesh.
That gasp was all it took to galvanize the three guys into action. Derek brought his other hand up and gently pushed on her shoulder, encouraging her to lay back flat. As she did so her legs came up until they wrapped around his hips. Tim moved to one side, slid into the seat of the booth, lowered his head to her unoccupied breast and began to nuzzle at it. Derek relinquished control of her other breast and moved both hands down across her stomach toward the waistband of her panties, her last protection. Theo slipped into the other side of the booth and captured the upturned nipple with his teeth. The sensation of having two hot mouths on her breasts, the tongues circling her nipples, the teeth clamping down on them was a brand new and extremely erotic experience for her. She moaned deeply, her back arching to push more of her soft flesh into the oral cavities of the men touching her.
Derek moved one hand down, slowly, across the fabric of her panties, until with one finger he traced the outline of her slit.
“She’s hot! I mean it guys, she’s gagging for it. This slut is wet!”
The use of the ‘s’ word had an enormous impact on Brooke. She literally screamed as she squirmed under the three-pronged assault, her hips jerking up off the table as the orgasmic wave rolled through her body.
There was a ripping sound and she could suddenly feel cool air on her overheated loins. She realized Derek had simply ripped her panties in order to gain access to her unprotected pussy. She felt his finger now touching her overheated skin, and realized her outer pussy lips were puffed up and open. He slid his finger deep into her right up to the second knuckle without any resistance. Her hips began to churn as her body desperately tried to impale itself on the intruding digit, but the weight of the other two men, both of them working on a breast, kept her upper body still. Each of them reached out a hand, and grasped one of hers, drawing her hands up above the head where she grabbed the far edge of the table with her own volition. Her hips bounced up and down on the table and she felt bereft when Derek withdrew his finger.
She faintly heard the sound of a zip being drawn down and a moment later felt the end of his prick touch the open labia of her pussy.
“You want this in your cunt, slut?”
She groaned and her hips shot up from the table once more in wordless supplication. Derek leaned forward and his prick entered her slit, burying itself three inches deep on the first thrust. Brooke was in heaven, the initial penetration enough to push her over the edge into her second orgasm.
“Look at the little fuck-toy go! She’s desperate for it.”
Indeed, Brooke’s hips were going into overdrive, bouncing and churning, trying to increase the sensation of the prick filling her and enticing it deeper into herself. Derek obliged by pushing it further and further in.
“See, guys, I’m balls deep in the slut and she still wants more in her cunt!”
Under any other circumstances Brooke knew she would be spitting mad at the language they were using. Now though, she didn’t care. Her hips continued to thresh, her back to arch and a continuous stream of incoherent words and moans issued from her mouth.
“This fuck-toy is a real sexual animal! I’ve never had a woman wanna fuck this bad. You do, don’t you, slut? You wanna be fucked.”
“Yes…”
Derek began to pound in and out of her, as hard as he could. Brooke locked her ankles behind his back and worked with him, establishing a rhythm that had the table creaking under her. She was too far gone to care, squirming on each full penetration, or when one or the other of the men dragged their teeth across her nipples, or bit gently at them.
“Ah! I’m coming!”
“Tell us what you are first, then you can cum!”
“I’m… Oh God!… I’m a slut! Fuck me!”
“Tell us more.”
“Please fuck me!… Yes!… That’s good. I want your cock in my cunt! Drive it into me! Use me! Fill me! I’m your fuck toy! Ah…!”
The stream of filth issuing from her own mouth was enough to push her into her third orgasm of the night, even louder than the previous ones. Derek couldn’t hold back and slammed into her one final time. Her thigh muscles clenched as she felt the first spurt of his cum strike the top of her vagina. Instantly her pussy went into overdrive, pulsing, trying to draw out every drop as stream after stream coated the inside of her pussy.
Finally Derek pulled out and stepped weakly away, spent. Brooke felt empty, almost desolate at the loss of contact.
/>
“Do you want me to fill your cunt again, slut?”
It was Troy this time, disengaging himself from her breast and moving round to stand between her legs. Instead of answering she lifted her legs into the air and pointed her gaping hole straight at him.
“I’ll take that as a yes then, fuck-toy.”
A moment later he’d pushed home into her, working in and out with fast, savage strokes. Tim meanwhile had moved position too, crawling onto the table until he straddled her head, one knee either side. Realizing his intention, she lifted her head slightly and opened her mouth. A second later this cavity too was plugged by a dick. She wasn’t blowing him, the position didn’t allow her enough control; instead he cradled the sides of her head with his hands to hold her steady and violently fucked himself in and out of her willing mouth. The two men didn’t work together to establish a rhythm, so as a result Brooke could feel her body being pulled, pushed and pounded in all directions. The sensation of the two men using her in such a way overwhelmed her and she came again, even harder this time.
Suddenly Derek was next to her head, taking over holding it from Tim so the other man could maintain his balance.
“You like this kind of treatment?”
She couldn’t answer, not even by shaking her head.
“I can see you do, slut! Guess what will happen when you come down to fetch your mail from the post-room on Monday Morning. You’ll have to fetch your own mail from now on, slut. Don’t wear any knickers to work. You won’t need them.”
His cruel words seared into her just as first Theo and then Tim began to ejaculate into her. The combination of semen simultaneously flooding her mouth and pussy would have been too much. The raw fear seared into her brain by Derek’s words heightened her senses even further. She came for the final time, so hard this time she lost consciousness.
When she came round it took her a moment to realize where she was. Someone, obviously one of the three men had put her dress on her again. There was a gentle snoring sound from next to her and she turned her head to look. She was back sitting next to her husband, who remained dead to the world. She tried to straighten up but found it difficult to move her hands. Looking down she saw why. She was no longer wearing her stockings, at least not on her legs, they were tied tightly to her wrists and then looped around the leg of the table, effectively immobilizing her.
She looked over at her husband and wondered how she was going to explain her predicament to him. Brooke became aware of an uncomfortable feeling between her legs, the combined cum of two of the men and her own juices as they leaked out of her naked pussy, soaking into the back of her dress. She focused on the table and gasped in horror. They’d put her dress on but not her bra. That particular item of clothing was draped over Sean’s fingers where his hand lay on the table. In front of her was another item, a business card. Brooke began to read it.
Fantasies Incorporated – Tennis Match
By: Bridy McAvoy
All rights reserved
Copyright © Jan 2010, Bridy McAvoy
Cover Art Copyright © Jan 2010, Brightling Spur
Bluewood Publishing Ltd
Christchurch, 8441, New Zealand
www.bluewoodpublishing.com
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.
No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Bluewood Publishing Ltd.
Tennis Match
“Karen, please…”
“You have got to be joking, Chris. You and Ben make a great doubles team. I can’t step in and partner him against Steve and Dave like that. I’m not up to the same standard.”
“Karen, I can’t help it. You know work have paged me and I’ve got to go back. The bloody computer system’s playing up and they need me. If I just withdraw then the forfeit means we have no chance of reaching the semis. If you step in, and even if you lose, we still have a chance of winning well enough in the final match to get through. You know how much the club championship means to Ben. Please…”
Karen bit her lip and looked at her fiancé. She hated to refuse him anything and he was right; the archaic scoring system would dump him and Ben out of the doubles championship if they didn’t play. The fact they allowed a substitute had been a surprise to her.
“But I only played an hour ago.”
“Come on, honey, you and Susie won six-love, six-love, conceding – what – three points on your own serves over the two sets. It was the most one-sided match in the women’s challenge for ten years. You weren’t even out of breath. Didn’t work up a sweat. You know you could play this, and play well. That was just a warm-up for you, nothing more.”
“Hmmm…”
“Please, hon.”
She shook her head in defeat. As always Chris had managed to talk her round to his way of thinking.
“Thanks, hon, I knew I could count on you. I’ll just go and tell the lads, and give Ben the keys to lock up when you’ve all finished. He’ll give you a lift home after as well. See ya later.”
Without even a quick peck on the cheek, he disappeared into the men’s locker room to tell the others they had a game after all. Shaking her head, she opened the door to the ladies locker room to change back into her two piece white tennis outfit, glad it wasn’t sweaty after her own match.
* * * *
“Thanks for stepping in, Karen, we all appreciate it.”
“Yeah right, Ben. You mean you appreciate being able to look up the back of my skirt when you’re serving.”
Ben had the grace to look embarrassed, so Karen gave him a grin that was designed to tell him she didn’t mind. Her toned athletic legs were shown off by the short tennis skirt whenever she played and always enjoyed many of the overheard appreciative comments from the sidelines.
“We don’t have an umpire so we’ll have to rely on honest accurate calls, okay?”
“Sure.”
Ben was going to be the best man when she married Chris in a couple of months’ time. She wasn’t too familiar with the other two players, on the other side of the net, but she did know they were superb tennis players, almost on a par with her own fiancé and his regular partner, Ben.
As they knocked up and stretched, she caught the two men watching her intently. She wasn’t sure if they were sizing her up as opposition or undressing her with their eyes. Karen shivered, not particular fazed by their attention, for whatever reason, but not entirely comfortable either.
Her partner’s first service game was good enough to ensure Karen had nothing to do as they won the game to love with two aces and two netted returns. Now she had to face Steve’s serve for the first time. When she played against Ben or Chris, she knew they held back a little bit on their serves for her sake, but this was real match conditions and the two guys the other side of the net weren’t going to hold anything back. The ball whistled over the net at least fifteen miles an hour faster than anything she was used to. A split second later it whistled past her outstretched forehand, an un-returnable ace.
The next serve was to Ben, who managed a credible return to the base line which was scooped straight back at Karen. She got her racquet in front of her for the volley and yelled in amazed excitement as the ball pinged between their two opponents to make it fifteen all. Now it was her turn to face the serve and it boomed past her again, thankfully from a point a few inches beyond the service line. The second serve looped up and in at a comfortable pace for her and she returned it straight at her opposite number the other side of the net. His block volley caught the net cord and dropped nicely for Ben to put away past their opponents. Two aces followed, one past each of them, and then Ben netted his return to give Stev
e and Dave the game.
In the next game Karen found her serve completely monstered by the two men on the other side of the net and lost the game to love. The next three games all went with service, leaving them trailing four-two and it was time for Karen to serve again. With six games played and no one officiating, they called a time out and all four players lunged for their water bottles. The game had been much harder for Karen than her own ladies doubles had been and she realized she’d worked up a sweat this time.
“You’re going to have to hold your serve, sweetie, or they’ll be serving for the set.”
“I know, Ben, but you guys are used to much harder serves than I can deliver.”
“Just do your best, Karen, that’s all I ask.”
Two games later they were a set down and it was Karen’s turn to serve, starting the second set.
“I’ll give you an incentive, Karen.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, if you don’t serve an ace this game, you’ll have to let your hair down. I’m going to confiscate your scrunchie.”
Karen shook her blonde ponytail from side to side and looked at him in shock.
He leaned in close.
“If that doesn’t motivate you then the forfeit after that one will.”
“What will that be?”
“I’ll have your knickers!”
“You won’t!”
“We’ll take a vote on it and you’ll lose, three to one.”
“Go to hell!”
Ben’s applied psychology worked a treat. Although Karen failed to serve an ace, she held her serve and afterwards sarcastically held out her scrunchie to him, shaking her long blonde hair out. The next three games again went with serve and when they called another time out she glared at her partner, having refused to talk to him throughout the last four games.
