by Lexi Rush
And I can see fire ablaze in his eyes as he presses against her pussy. Even though she just squirted, I wonder if she can take him.
I feel a thump and Jenna shrieks. I have my answer: yes and no. He is obviously inside, but she’s writhing in pain. Or pleasure? Hard to tell by her screams. My own emotions blend jealousy with lust. I want to resume my humping but cannot move as Devin’s grip immobilizes Jenna. He is commanding her—and me—no doubt about it. His cock fills her so full that I can feel it stretching and sliding across my own cock. It’s as if he’s taunting me in an inner sword duel.
Devin’s thrusts shake the water, propelling waves over the edge of the tub—like a sailboat in a storm.
“Dude, she’s so tight.” Devin growls as Jenna cries out, again confusing my guess of pain or pleasure. I guess it’s a combination of both. I’m in a maddening spot. I cannot see the action: only feel big black anaconda assaulting my little Jenna’s pussy beyond what I thought were her limits. It’s like listening to the bass of a porno without being able to see the video.
She’s so tight reverberates inside my head like a pinball machine. I feel light-headed as Kryptonite seeps into my brain.
Devin’s guttural grunts clash with Jenna’s high-pitch squeals. No doubt, pleasure has replaced pain. The only pain is in my frustrated groin, stuck in limbo. I’ve fantasized about fucking Jenna’s ass since we first met and now that I’m finally in, I’m helplessly bound.
I sigh as the pounding continues. I feel every thrust like body punches. And listening to their chorus of grunts and shrieks leaves me speechless. Some double-team, huh? When is my turn?
Devin bellows, “I’m gonna cum soon baby.”
Jenna responds with a primal moan.
“I’m gonna fill your pussy baby!”
My eyes nearly burst out of their sockets. That’s fucking bold. Not, can I cum inside?—I’m gonna FILL YOUR PUSSY baby.
I’m half expecting Jenna to say, no, you gotta pull out. Instead, she shrieks, “I’m cumming,” and her tremors pulse against my trapped bone.
Devin’s fierce fucking is now in short strokes. And Jenna’s head flings back and forth as each pulse grips my cock.
Devin groans so loud I think he breaks a bone. My Turret’s surfaces but I cover my mouth.
Devin releases a series of grunts, matched by Jenna’s high-pitched shrieks of delight. As it continues for much longer than usual, all I can think of: I hope Jenna took her pill.
Finally, Devin thrusts in one final deep plunge, then pauses and slowly withdraws. His eyes gaze at Jenna’s abandoned opening and his lips curl as I know he’s admiring the creampie.
I yell, “I’m definitely changing this water.” I regret not being able to keep my mouth shut, but they don’t seem to mind. I try to move but still can’t. Devin leans in and kisses Jenna. She falls backwards with him still on top and they crush against me.
“Heyyyyyyyy! Get off me! I can’t breathe.”
Rather than move they both laugh—Jenna’s laughter must be deep because my dick feels it. Devin pushes himself up and pulls Jenna into his arms, dislodging my rod from her ass.
“Whoa...I didn’t mean all the way off!”
Devin says, “Go ahead and finish him off Jenna, I gotta use the bathroom.” As he lunges up and out of the tub, water cascades off his muscular back, down his ass and onto our deck, leaving a wet trail behind each step. And Jenna watches every drop. Once inside our sliding glass door, Jenna glances down at my aching boner and sighs.
“Well?” I say, “don’t leave me hanging...”
I pull Jenna into my arms and kiss her, cringing at tasting remnants of Devin, and end the kiss abruptly. “Get back up there,” I growl as I lay back down. Jenna climbs up and as I position my cock against her rosebud, she says, “Unh unh,” and slaps my hand away from my cock.
“What the fuck?”
“In my pussy.”
I am in no position to argue and I could have cum inside a sandpaper glove right about now. She grabs my rod and instantly impales all of me, splashing down (literally) on my balls. If I think her mouth reminds me of Devin, her pussy definitely does. All I can think of is how stretched she is and any fluid easing my entry must be his leftover cum. I am too far gone to even care at this stage and focus on my own pleasure.
Jenna says, “Fuck me Devin,” and my eyes pop open. Did she just say that?
“Fuck me Devin, fuck me with that big black cock, you feel so much better than my husband...”
I’m surprised I didn’t figure out what she was doing until now, but it was working. After one more, “Fuck me harder Devin,” I came like a wild animal.
She slips up and off and sure enough, there is Devin glaring down at me. He laughs and says, “Glad I could help bro. Team work.”
“Fuck you!” This is my non-nervous real self and my voice sounds so absurd that we all break out laughing.
Jenna announces, “I’m thirsty, what’s in the cooler?”
Devin is still lurking down at us, out of the water, completely naked and dry. He leans over and scoops the handle of my little cooler. Flipping the cover open, he pulls out a bottle and says, “Kinky Pink Cocktail? Nice...here ya go,” as he hands it to Jenna.
“Kinky? Really? Is this even a real drink?” both of them glare at me. I chortle, then blurt out, “They were out of Dicken’s Cider.”
“Dicken’s Cider?” Devin repeats.
“Yeah, Jenna loves Dicken’s Cider.”
Jenna faces Devin and says, “Pardon my 12-year-old-for-a-husband.”
Devin bursts out laughing so hard that he slips and falls into the hot tub.
“Are you okay?”
He is still laughing and finally slows down to an intermittent chuckle, then says, “I think she’s had enough Dicken’s Cider for now. We should switch it up to Kinky.”
“Not you now,” Jenna says, standing up with her hands on her hips, smirking at Devin. Her tits stare at Devin, with water dripping off them. And she looks so fucking sexy right now!
We sip our Kinky Pink Cocktails and I’m not sure what’s in it, but it riles all three of us up for more. And I’m not talking about the fucking drink. I say, “Let’s get out of the hot tub, I look like a raisin.”
I make the mistake of standing up with my balls above the water line as my comment hangs in the steamy air. I blurt, “Don’t go there. Either one of you.”
After another hearty laugh, I realize something different. I’m much more at ease. With everything. Maybe it’s the release of an orgasm (actually two for me tonight); maybe it’s the relief that I make it through Devin fucking the shit out of my wife without losing it; maybe it’s just that, tonight, we are making great memories—and a cohort in kinkiness. I don’t want this feeling to end and honestly, want to venture into kinky land.
As we all march upstairs, I feel a kinship. Actually more than a kinship—my raisin is now a full grown plant. Not quite in the same league as my python friend, but I’m comfortable being me.
Ironically, watching my fantasy turn into reality isn’t Kryptonite after all. I feel closer to Jenna in a fucked up way and her loving eyes say she’s grateful for what we have. Sometimes you need to break something and plant the seed (pun intended) and allow it to grow to experience true growth.
Even if it means kinky, no-holes-barred, sex.
So, if I could be a flavor, what would I be?
That’s easy: Chocolate and Vanilla Swirl, with a sweet cherry on top, or better yet—in , in the middle! For now, at least...
I know that doesn’t surprise you. The real surprise comes when I ask Jenna, “If I could be a flavor—any flavor—what would you want me to be?”
She hesitates and teases me by running the pink tip of her tongue under her upper lip, then says, “You and a full can of whipping cream.”
I open the fridge and sigh, then race to the store.
Thank you for finishing Double Teamed—Sharing Jenna. Please take a few moments to rate and
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About Lexi Rush
I love writing erotica but in a much different way: most of my stories are based on real events with real people. Sure the names and places are changed—to protect the guilty—but there are plenty of people who graciously share their experiences with me. And I’m happy to write it.
As an author, I’m not afraid to venture outside of my comfort zone. In Double Teamed, I wrote in first person, present tense, in the voice of my male primary character. Not easy, but I think the male perspective gives the story a fresh perspective on a hot subject.
It’s hilarious that my co-workers at my day job have no idea of my secret dirty side. In some ways, this Jekyll and Hyde existence helps me keep my sanity in this insane genre of Erotica or as I prefer to call it Romantica.
I welcome your comments and if you have a true story to tell, I’m all ears. Contact me at: [email protected].
