“Then one night I saw Clint looking at me across the room and wanted it to be all over. By the end of the night, it was. Until you showed up he’s had exclusive rights to my body.”
Rand stood, put his hand out and pulled her to her feet. He pulled her into his side and she sagged against his body. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.”
She nodded, bent to retrieve her purse from the table, and looked over at her mother. “Momma, I’m sorry you lost your husband. But if you’d done your job and been the mother you should have been, maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe Daddy’d still be alive, maybe he’d have kept loving you instead of obsessing over me. I’ve finally come to terms with this. And so has Clint. I didn’t do anything wrong! I was a good girl!” She broke down in sobs as Rand bent and lifted her into his arms. He carried her out of the kitchen toward the front door and was surprised when he saw Clint sitting in the dark in a chair close to where they’d been talking.
“What are you doing here?”
“I brought her here. We were looking for you. Again, the car is a damn giveaway, you might as well wear a target.”
“What did you want me for?”
“Seems that girl you’ve got in your arms can’t live without you.”
Rand’s face lit up, “Really?”
Clint smiled and patted him on the back. “Yeah, really. Let’s go home.”
“As in our home, the three of us?” Rand asked.
“That’s what she says she wants. I told her I could live with that if you could.”
“I’d shake your hand but they’re a little busy right now,” Rand said as he shifted Callie higher in his arms.
Clint opened the door for Rand and Callie then followed behind them to the car.
“How’d you two get here?”
“Base taxi. Give me the keys, I’ll drive. You and Callie have some making up to do.”
“Yeah, I suppose we do,” Rand said as he smiled down at the woman in his arms, “I suppose we do.”
“And you seem to have had a fair amount of alcohol . . .”
“You know how it is Captain, when you’re trying to get information out of a hostile witness, sometimes you have to loosen the tongue a bit.”
As Rand settled into the back seat with Callie, he reflected on the talk he’d had with her mother. He was stunned that he had come so close to his initial assessment. He could not believe he had linked her sexual issues to her father, and that they had all started with diaper changing. Maybe she’d been too young to understand her father’s words of praise, but she would have been able to tell by his cajoling tone, his big grin, and the twinkle in his eyes—that he was pleased with her.
Her innate sense would tell her the reason why when she saw where his eyes were focused, where he touched her, where he may even have even kissed her. As a baby, when she saw him focus on the area where her legs joined her body, she would remember how she had gotten into that position, how he had pushed her knees up almost to her chest, held them wide apart and tenderly wiped her, patted her dry—smoothed powder over her bottom and genitalia.
Logically, she would want to make him happy like that again. Eventually, to win his approval she would do this for him any time he wished her to. Daughters did that. He shook his head as he watched the woman he loved smile up at him and he hated the man who had dared to call himself her father.
During the initial weeks of bonding with his daughter, things had taken as bad a turn as possible, setting the tone for their relationship for years to come. It had determined her sex life in her later years; it was why she was still seeking approval from men in a similar manner, for she would have adored her father inasmuch as he worshipped her, while he touched her and toyed with her, while she unwittingly became his focus, his single-most driving obsession.
His arm wrapped around Callie’s shoulder and he bent and kissed her on the temple. Ironically, she was now his obsession—his focus . . . his whole world.
And poor sweet Callie, she was still trying to please men in the only way she knew, the way her father had taught her, by displaying her body, objectifying herself, and allowing herself to be debased, shamed, and humiliated. Had she never seen the thread in her logic that should have lead her to the conclusion that hers was an emotional response caused by parental abuse? If she had ever thought it all out or even talked it over with someone, surely she would have realized that the last thing her sick father would have wanted was for her to share her body with a man other than himself. But that was exactly what he had driven her to.
Rand bit back a chuckle; he was better at this psychobabble than he thought. Now the nagging idea of becoming a family counselor after the war was over no longer overwhelmed him. It enticed him. The fact that he could grasp these early development concepts and see how they played out in later years was intriguing. Like a mystery unraveled, he had zoomed in, taken a snapshot of her life, and figured out Callie’s exhibitionist issues. It had only taken diligence, caring and detective work.
He could see where her father’s approval had meant everything to her, and her guilt afterward must have been horrendous, after all her father had killed himself because she had given herself to another man. Was she punishing herself with the humiliation and suffering the guilt by doing what she thought he would want?
Where did they go from here? This was the scary part. He could easily make things worse, for the obsession that was her father’s had now become hers. When she became passionate, she moved into the grip of a fanatical need—an almost overwhelming craving to be told how desirable she was, to be assured by the man in her bed that he saw her as the most seductive creature he’d ever seen. And in truth, she was—at least to him. He imagined that for the men who had been privileged to see her naked and spread-eagled, that she was probably the closest thing to the airbrushed pictures in Hustler or Maxim they’d jerked off to as teenagers.
Clint pulled up to a stoplight and made a left turn, and while subconsciously Rand knew he should question the change in direction, he was lost in his thoughts. His brow was furrowed as his fingers idly traced a pattern on Callie’s shoulder. All this was well and good, he’d figured out the mystery of her psychosis. Now what? How did he make it so that she didn’t crave every man on the planet telling her how lovely her cunt was? Could he keep her to himself—and to Clint of course. Could they fix her? Should they fix her? And how could they be sure they didn’t break something else in the process? God, if he fixed this problem, but made her shy away from anal sex, he’d hate himself. And Clint would probably kill him. He might still.
Clint had only given him a sketchy idea of Callie’s problems, sugar-coated them really during one of their long sieges in the mountains of Afghanistan . . . had showed little concern about them at the time. Maybe that was because he was new to the marriage, or maybe it was because Clint enjoyed showing his wife off—hell, for all he knew, maybe he liked the idea of other men viewing her. Could he have downplayed her exhibitionism because he was the kind of man who got off watching another man having sex with his wife? A lot of men who were married to porn stars allowed the cameras to see it all. But he just couldn’t picture Clint presenting his wife’s vulva for all the world to see. Yet, Clint had hooked him up with his wife, knew she’d display herself for him.
So how was all this going to play out? He thought of all the porn movies he had watched and smiled inwardly. Callie’s problems with exhibiting her body paled in comparison. He felt his penis jerk as the thought occurred to him that he would love to have some pictures of her. He looked over at her as she touched up her makeup, using her pinky to smear lip-gloss over those pouty full lips. His cock jerked again, then he felt the telltale thud of his heart as all systems worked to redirect his blood flow for engagement.
For a few seconds he debated getting those pictures before he “cured” her, but t
hen he shook his head, he wasn’t going to be the one to immortalize her slick, wet, welcoming little twat. Idly, he wondered if Clint already had.
“Why are you shaking your head? It’s as if you’re having an argument with yourself,” Callie said.
He tugged her head to his shoulder and she rested it there. In the rearview mirror he could see Clint staring at him. He stared back. They had issues to discuss, parameters to define. What was this new relationship going to be? How would it affect their friendship? He could tell by the look in his friend’s eyes that he had the same questions.
Then he redirected his thoughts and looked around. They had just turned onto a one-lane dirt road and were winding their way into a dense forest.
“Where are we going?”
“After watching Callie mope around and pine for your ugly old ass, we sat down and had a heart-to-heart about what we both wanted. Seems you were in the picture whether I wanted you to be or not—fortunately, I wanted you to be. The lifestyle we’re talking about is one that would be frowned upon on base, so we went house hunting.”
Chapter XIII
Clint pulled up in front of a sprawling rustic log cabin that was all decks and chimneys and as far from primitive as could be. He leaned his arm over the front seat and grinned.
“Welcome to our new home. Callie and I talked things over and if you’re of a mind to try a plural marriage, so are we. I know you’ve had some threesomes in the past, but this is not going to work if you think of it as just a casual affair. This has to be a committed relationship—on everyone’s part. And one of the things that had to change, if we wanted this to have the best chance, was to buy a house in the country where everyone doesn’t know our business.
“I know you love Callie; I can see it in your eyes. And I know she loves you. She’s told me so. Not that she could’ve kept it a secret, she’s been miserable without you these two weeks. So what do you say? Are we husband, husband, and wife? Can we do this and not lose the friendship?”
Rand looked into the mirror and smiled at his friend. “As long as I don’t have to kiss you to seal the vows, I’m in.”
“Good. Now let’s go fuck our wife.”
“Was afraid you’d never ask,” Rand said with a grin as he slid Callie across the seat and then scooped her off the vinyl and carried her up the path and over the threshold and into their new home.
Moments later they were in the huge master bedroom stripping their clothes off as if there was a race to be the first one naked. Callie and Clint had a head start as Rand had been in a business suit, so when he finally shucked his underwear and turned to face them, he was surprised to see Clint standing behind Callie, his hands cupping her full breasts from the bottom and holding them out as if offering them to him.
He groaned, not only from the sensual gesture, but also by what it meant. He didn’t have to be asked twice. His tongue laved her nipple, pebbling it. He lightly grazed it with his teeth and then sucked it between his lips, tugging and pulling, hollowing his cheeks with the effort.
Callie moaned and gripped his head to her chest, begging and pleading him not to stop. Clint knelt at her feet and ran his tongue over the back of her thighs while his fingers dove between her legs and plunged into her. He rasped, “Good God she’s wet,” as he kissed along her inner thigh, sucking a particularly sweet patch of skin between his lips and humming his pleasure.
As if on cue, they both lifted her and gently placed her in the center of the bed. They positioned her for viewing and then walked around the bed, admiring her from all angles as they stroked their engorged cocks and suggestively cupped their heavy sacs. Her eyes were liquid with desire, the want in them tangible. They stalked the bed, fondling the hair on their chests, stroking their long hard cocks, pumping lewdly as they circled the bed, scenting her. They were the hunters, she was the prey—they had captured her and now they were ready for the feast.
Clint leaned over the bed and sucked her pussy into his mouth at the same time that Rand bent and drove his tongue into her mouth. They fused and mated and she sobbed as pleasure overtook her. She peaked when Rand kissed her ear and whispered, “He’s sucking the prettiest pussy in the world.” She keened and whimpered as her body convulsed and quivered.
“I got dibs on her ass,” Rand stated.
“And I’m going to plow this lovely furrow and plant my seed, maybe even give her a baby,” Clint breathed against her slick opening.
“What do I get?” she whispered, still in a stupor.
“Don’t worry we won’t forget about you. We’re going to take this nice and slow. And then we’re going to switch sides and start all over again; because I’ve never had that pretty little ass and it’s about time I got to savor that sweet pleasure.”
She moaned at Clint’s words as Rand covered her nipple with his mouth. He sucked and teased it then bit the tip lightly. He lifted her and placed her on her hands and knees while Clint got the lube from the nightstand drawer. It was tossed to him and Rand caught it one-handed. He looked at it and read the label, “’Giant Economy Size,’ I like the sound of that.”
He squeezed out a generous amount and smeared it over the head of his penis then he spread her ass cheeks and massaged the remainder around the tiny opening that was puckering in anticipation.
She fell to her elbows and put her forehead on the bed offering her pretty little ass with a suggestive wiggle. “What are you waiting for?” she asked in a sultry voice.
Rand smacked her playfully on the ass. “Cheeky lady, let’s just take our time with this. It’s still pretty new to you. And believe me, I’m more than content to just stand here caressing these ultra fine globes until I can get myself squeezed in. Mmm, mmm. What a view.” His fingers dipped lower to toy with her sleek moist folds. “Hmmm . . . maybe I should avail myself of this first?”
“I did an extra deep enema this morning, please don’t waste the effort.”
“What the lady wants . . .” Rand’s fingers moved to her crack, pried her buttocks apart and poked at her small, puckering cinnamon bud.
“Well, turns out that’s what the gentleman wants, too,” he said with a heartfelt sigh. “Lovely, simply lovely. God I’m hard as a poker. Let’s see how this goes, shall we?” He placed the crown of his penis at her tiny opening and began to push.
Clint knelt on the bed beside her facing Rand and helped hold her cheeks apart and encouraged her to bear down as Rand pushed his cock head past the tight rim. “That’s it baby, let him in. Take his dick in your ass. Damn, this is so fucking hot!”
It took several tries before he could inch his way inside her. His forehead was beaded with sweat as he was using all his control to keep from ramming his steely member up into her, driving home in a possessive need such as he’d never experienced before. His wife. God, could he really be so lucky? He was harder than he’d ever been as he carefully forged forward into her tight channel.
“Easy,” Clint breathed, “you almost got it. Just a little more to go.” Using his fingers he pulled her cheeks even further apart trying to stretch her to accommodate his friend’s thick penis. He looked over at Callie who was looking over her shoulder.
“You okay?” he asked, the concern evident in his voice.
Her breathing was labored, her jaw clenched and her teeth clamped together as she hissed, “Yes, oh God, yes! Take me Rand, take me! Give it all to me!”
“Fuck yeah,” Rand muttered and drove home.
She screamed from the pleasure-pain and Clint added a nuance to the mix by tugging on the nipple of one of her dangling tits, milking the hard nipple and pinching it tightly before treating the other one to the same pleasure.
He knew she loved the edges of pain, the erotic sensations that only came from jacking things up to the wild and ragged side of the unmentionable, unthinkable, and forbidd
en. Her eyes closed, her throat elongated and she arched her body. She was in the throes of one of the most powerful orgasms she’d ever had; yet still, she needed more. “More, for God’s sake, don’t stop. God no, don’t stop, give me more—I need more!”
“Clint, C’mon man, get on, let’s do this.”
Rand carefully pulled her back with him as he arranged himself into a half kneeling, half sitting position against the headboard. He pulled Callie back against his chest, keeping her high on his lap, her knees pulled wide as he invited Clint to, “Climb on man, we’re ready to blow!”
Clint climbed up from the end of the bed and knelt between Callie’s splayed legs. He positioned his cock at her opening and wedged it in. “Fuck, she’s tight, God Rand I can feel your cock right up against mine. Is there even room for me?”
He shoved inside keeping his thrust almost vertical. He groaned his pleasure and felt goose bumps line his arms and legs. This was heaven. A physical bliss like he’d never known.
“Pretty awesome huh?” Rand said through a series of rough pants.
“Fucking yeah,” Clint groaned. And then when Rand lifted her a little higher, allowing Clint more access to slide fully into to her slick channel, he grinned, “This is fucking wild!”
“Yeah,” Rand grinned back. “Now pull back a little and feel this.”
Clint pulled back and Rand’s cock was sucked into the void, and so it began, one in, one out, never leaving her empty, filling her more than she had ever been filled before. All the while, Rand plucked on her nipples while Clint made circles with his thumb on her pearly clit. When she trembled and came, squeezing them both, in turn, it catapulted them all over the edge—Rand groaning and crying out while his cock throbbed and pumped his cum deep into Callie’s ass, still trying to get more of him into her as he closed his eyes and rocketed to heaven. Clint, moaning in agony, but loving every second of his hot spurting release going deep inside her slippery channel like a heat seeking missile. Callie never feeling more complete in her life as the men she loved spilled their seed into her while she shuddered through one climax after another. Moments later, when Rand fell back, she fell against him, Clint followed. They were stacked like pancakes.
Flash Drive Page 14
