My Boyfriend's Boyfriends
Page 7
What the fuck had I done?
My entire life so far had been lived on my terms, running free and single with my circle of friends, clubbing at weekends, sleeping with strangers, enjoying myself while I was still young enough to do so. And I’d given it all up for – what? Yeah, Mark was a good fuck – no, scratch that. He was a really good fuck, and a lot of other things as well. But only when he was sober enough to stay awake, and I didn’t care that I’d never seen him this pissed before. His buddies had. Again I eyed my smiling companions, Brad, Frank and Tommy. The old Beccy wouldn’t have kicked any one of them out of bed. A little voice at the back of my mind was suddenly wondering whether the new one would?
I took a breath. ‘I wonder if he’d notice tonight?’
Frank laughed. ‘I told you, he could sleep through an earthquake. Watch!’ He stood up and walked over to where Mark lay unconscious, leaned down and shook him violently. All Mark did was snore even louder.
Laughing, Tommy and Brad joined him and suddenly the three of them were pushing and pulling the chair back and forth, rocking it back on two legs and then letting it thud down onto the carpeted floor. Mark slumbered on. ‘See, you could do anything and he’d sleep right through it.’
Anything?
Anything.
I lay back on the bed. Still prim in the dress I’d been married in, my brain filled with bubbles but not so much that they bothered me, I surveyed the scene. Well, it wasn’t quite how I’d pictured tonight unfolding, but I wasn’t the one sawing logs in an armchair. I shifted a little, reached out one arm and snagged Tommy’s belt. I pulled him towards me and noticed that he did not even pretend to resist. Still with one hand, I began unfastening his trousers.
‘OK, let’s see,’ I murmured. My heart was already pounding; it leaped loudly as my hand touched warm cock through the shield of Tommy’s flimsy cotton briefs. I was going to do it. And, even better, he was going to let me.
The room was silent around me, three pairs of eyes fastened onto me as I sat up and pressed my face to what I could only describe as a fabulous bulge. It stirred, like a bear stretching out in its cave, and I licked its hardening length, tasting hot man through the fabric, spicy, sharp and tongue-dancingly delightful. They’ve always amazed me, the mechanics of a cock, how otter-coat softness can become tempered steel with no more than a touch, a word or a gesture, how the flesh just unfolds, straightens and stretches, and as Tommy started to step out of the trousers that I’d hoisted down to his knees, his briefs just as suddenly tented towards my face.
My teeth seized the waistband, nipping skin and a few hairs as well, and I jerked the briefs down as well as I could, stretching them wider as they snagged on his erection, then releasing them with a sharp twang against his thighs.
He gasped and his cock sprang to attention, bobbing before my eyes, the head a firm mushroom on a stalk that didn’t quit. My fist felt tiny as it circled his shaft and angled him towards me as I leaned in and licked, my tongue tracing the length of the thickest vein till it tapped at his helmet and I drew him into my mouth. Tommy groaned and behind me I heard the sound of his buddies stripping their own clothes off, and felt hands begin wrestling with the buttons down the back of my dress.
Gently my shoulders were bared and a mouth pressed against my neck. I shivered but did not relinquish my prize, and my free hand reached back to caress a smooth face. My breasts were free now, and firm fingers were pulling and thumbing at my nipples as I carried on sucking on Tommy’s prick, taking him as deep down inside as I possibly could, and then backing off slowly, relishing his flavour and feeling every pore of his flesh as he slipped back and forth across my stretched, sensitive lips.
Rough hands pulled my legs open. I swivelled my body a little, raised and bent one leg and yes! A thick finger thrust itself into my pussy. Damn, I was soaking wet already – it’s amazing what a good length of cock down my throat can do to me. I pushed back against the intruder, forcing it deeper and wishing it thicker, and then I felt a tongue there, lapping at my lips as fresh fingers spread me wide, and a hungry mouth slurped and sucked at my pink. God, I wanted this.
I broke my grip on Tommy and released him from my mouth with a satisfying plop.
‘Fuck me. Somebody fuck me. But not you.’ I looked up at Tommy. ‘I want you to stay here.’
I threw myself back on the bed as Tommy stripped off the shirt and tie that he was still, absurdly, wearing, kicked away his fallen trousers and briefs and then brusquely straddled my chest, his knees pinning my arms to the mattress. I resisted for a moment, then gave up. He could have his moment of power if he wanted it.
His cock nestled between my breasts and he crushed the orbs together, sandwiching himself between them as he slowly fucked my cleavage. I watched entranced as his hardness slipped back and forth, then raised my head, stretched out my tongue and licked his tip as it swept into reach. A glob of pre-come hung thick and I caught it and stretched it out between his prick and my lips; more was pooling in my cleavage, lubricating our flesh as we moved together. Then, as he slipped his full length back into my mouth, I felt another length slam into my pussy, stretching me wide and penetrating me deep, two heavyweight balls slapping against my ass as a fat heavy cock-end drove towards my womb.
My clit was on fire, but that was only the start of it. My entire pussy was crying out in ecstasy, to be answered by the gurgles that escaped my crammed-full throat.
Fuck me. Spear me. Impale me. Do me.
Oh, my God, this was paradise. I’d had threesomes before, but I was younger and my partners were younger. Too much indecision, too much laughter and too many distractions as nervousness danced a tango with desire. This was the real thing, this was serious business, and this was bigger. Fuck a threesome, I wanted all four! Straining, I pulled an arm out from beneath the knee that had imprisoned it, raised the hand that had done nothing but make tight fists in the bedclothes and gripped a third cock, longer than Tommy’s, thicker than … thicker than whoever was pounding my pussy.
I disengaged my mouth for a moment. ‘Come here,’ I whispered, and its owner knelt closer to me, the tip of his dick almost touching Tommy’s as they both hovered at my lips. I knew without even trying that I’d never fit them both in my mouth. But I was going to have a go anyway, and my head swished swiftly from side to side as I sucked on one and then the other, sometimes delivering a greedy quick gulp, other times offering long, loving caresses that started in the back of my throat and engulfed the entire length.
My cunt was screaming with joy. I don’t know what they were taught at the college they’d all been to, but whoever was fucking me – Frank or Brad, Brad or Frank, it didn’t matter – was just as good as Mark, with the bonus of at least an extra inch. One miniature orgasm after another burst like pulsars through my body, each one layering on top of the last and all building up to the big one that I knew would leave me screaming the hotel down, no matter how many cocks I had in my mouth.
And talking of orgasms … Tommy had lasted as long as he could, but clearly not any more. He cried out and his whole body twitched sharply, then roughly he thrust himself deep between my jaws as his come poured out, thick and warm and gooey, straight down the back of my throat. For a moment, I gagged, choking on the flood, then somehow I collected my senses again. I spluttered a little, I swallowed the lot and I just kept on sucking as he softened on my tongue.
Tommy pulled out and his pal slipped straight in, so thick that I felt like my jaw would tear, so long that, even as he banged against my throat, I was struggling to take more meat inside me. I’d never felt a cock so huge, never tasted one so hot and never ever felt somebody fuck my mouth so hard, banging into my face as frenetically as his friend was fucking my cunt.
They slipped into the same rhythm, and that was amazing as well, the ultimate carnival ride, the waltzer and the twister and the teacups all in one, and I was spinning and twisting and flying, listening to the headboard crash against the wall as the boys picked up their pac
e even harder, and even Mark’s snoring seemed to slip into gear, a ballet of sound and choreographed crashes to match the mad music of three bodies in concert.
And FUCK!!!!!!
You know what it feels like when you and your partner come together? That moment where your bodies and minds just melt together and every sensation that the other is experiencing comes pouring from their pores into yours, and you soar higher and faster than you’ve ever flown before?
Multiply that by a thousand and then add some more, because that’s what it feels like when you and two partners come together, one of them thrusting as deep as he can up inside your pussy, scalding your cervix with all he can shoot, the other stuffing himself way down your throat, and then both of them crying and letting fly at the precise same moment. And when the two floods met somewhere in the region of the bottom of my ribcage, that’s where my own orgasm was gathering pace, a crashing, splashing, sense-mashing explosion that filled my entire body with absolute, unbeatable and undiluted pleasure.
I was shivering, the lights were shimmering and, for a moment, we three hung there motionless. Neither of my lovers was in a hurry to pull out, and that was exactly how I wanted them to stay. I wanted to suck them and suckle them and squeeze them with my flesh until there was nothing left to wring from their balls; to hold them inside me until the end of time. And when they did finally, unwillingly, slip from my grasp, I raised myself and sucked on all three guys again, and every one of them melted in my mouth, drained of even the ability to speak.
But not to act. A mouth closed on mine, a thick tongue deep inside, sucking out the come that was smeared thick on my gums. Another was at my pussy, licking me clean, cleaning me out.
The thought crossed my mind, absurd but irresistible. It was as if, having borrowed the bride of their best college buddy, they were now determined to return her to him in the same condition they’d found her in, kissed exquisitely pure of all trace of the night, the whore become queen before she slipped off to sleep. And I closed my eyes, relaxing to their magical ministrations as I felt another orgasm building deep down inside me. And this time I did cry out, all the pleasure and joy that had filled me tonight flying free with a gasping, sobbing, ecstatic scream that sounded like no word I had ever uttered before, but was filled with more meaning than any I’d ever heard. I was in heaven and I wanted the whole world to know it.
Beside us, Mark snored inexorably on.
They dressed, I undressed; they left the room, I went to bed. My mind was a jumble of sensations and thoughts; I had loved harder and orgasmed more dramatically than ever before in my life, and if I felt even the tiniest twinge of regret or embarrassment, even a hint of horror at how readily I had betrayed my husband of less than twelve hours, then the memory of that final orgasm pushed it away. Besides, in the morning (assuming he’d actually sobered up by then, and wasn’t just a sackful of unshaven hangover), I’d more than make up for it.
Which, I’m thrilled to say, I did. And only once since that wonderful wedding night have I ever had cause to wonder just how deeply asleep my husband had been, how oblivious to my opportunism he really was. It was a couple of days later, still in the first bloom of marital bliss, as I sucked on his cock while our breakfast went cold, and I heard him tell me – I thought I heard him tell me – to suck it like the filthy slut I was.
I froze, and the low voice continued, a barely audible whisper that demanded I swallow his mess like I’d swallowed his friends’, and if he didn’t hear me choking on his burning white-hot spunk, then maybe he’d invite a few of the guys over, Tommy and Brad and Frank, he said, and the whole darn lot of them would drown me with their cocks.
I raised my head and looked him in the eye.
‘I’d like that,’ I told him. ‘I’d like that a lot.’
A Taste for Cheating
Heather Towne
Jennifer wrung her hands together and looked up at her friend. ‘I don’t know, Lisa. I don’t know when Brent and I are going to get married. He keeps putting it off.’ Her big blue eyes welled with tears, her plush lower lip trembling. ‘I’m – I’m worried we’re never going to tie the knot! That – that he’s just been stringing me along all these years!’
Lisa reached out, grasped her friend’s shaking hands and squeezed them. She smiled sympathetically. ‘Well, maybe it’s time you took some action of your own. To spur Brent on. Make him appreciate what he’s got – and what he could lose.’
The two women were sitting on the tan leather couch in Lisa’s living room. They’d got together for a friendly cup of coffee and catch-up, but the subject had quickly turned to Jennifer’s love life on hold.
Jennifer was in her late twenties, a short, curvy woman with shoulder-length blonde hair, a cute, chubby-cheeked face and light-brown skin. She was normally shy and quiet, except in the company of close friends. Lisa was in her mid-thirties, tall and lean, with violet eyes and long, straight black hair, a thin face and creamy-white skin. She possessed an open and enthusiastic personality. The pair had met at work and struck up a friendship. Jennifer looked up to the older woman for advice and motivation.
Now she gazed into Lisa’s eyes, a worried expression on her face. ‘What do you mean? Like, give him an ultimatum or something?’
Lisa shook her head. ‘No, that won’t work. Not with a man like Brent. That’ll just make him dig in his heels even more.’ She licked her glossy lips, patted Jennifer’s hands. ‘No, what you need to do is play the field. Make Brent see that other men appreciate you, want you, so that he’ll realise what he has and what he could lose. Plus, you might as well sow your wild oats while you can, anyway. You’ve been with Brent exclusively for, what, six years now?’
‘Seven. What do you mean, play the field? Like, go out on dates with other men?’
Lisa winked. ‘Real dates. Short and sweet and sexy, with no regrets.’
Jennifer frowned. ‘What do you mean, real –’
‘One-night stands! You should have some one-night stands with other men, Jennifer! To teach Brent a lesson and tickle your fancy at the same time.’
‘Oh, I don’t know if I could do that! That sounds a little extreme, Lisa.’
‘Extremism in the quest for marriage is no vice.’
‘Huh?’
‘I think it’s just what your relationship with Brent needs,’ Lisa rephrased it. ‘He won’t put you off when you’re getting off with other men, don’t you see? And don’t think he hasn’t been sowing some oats of his own on the side, if I know anything about men – which I do.’
Jennifer blinked, bit her lip. ‘But – but what if he gets so upset that he dumps me?’
Lisa gripped the younger woman’s shoulders. ‘Trust in your power as a woman, Jennifer. And trust me. He’ll only see you as more desirable, realise that he better ring your finger to keep you for himself, before it’s too late.’
Jennifer smiled at that one. Lisa had never steered her wrong before, and the woman did have a highly successful marriage with her handsome, charming husband Owen. But … ‘I don’t think I can –’
Her cell phone chimed ‘Take My Breath Away’ and she flipped it open. It was Brent, informing her that he couldn’t make their mall trip that afternoon (which was going to include a not-so-subtle surprise visit to a jewellery store). Something more important had come up.
Jennifer snapped the cell phone shut and exclaimed to Lisa, ‘I’ll do it!’
Then she sighed. ‘Only … I don’t really know any other men. Other than Brent’s friends.’
‘There you go!’
Jennifer’s eyes went wide, and her face shone, as she thought of her boyfriend’s three hunky boyfriends.
* * *
Brent and Sean had been drinking steadily as they watched the football match on TV. Jennifer had been refreshing their drinks, and hers every now and then, putting her own game plan into play and fortifying her courage.
Sean had come over to Jennifer and Brent’s apartment early that evening, and w
hile the boys couldn’t keep their eyes off the tube, Jennifer couldn’t keep her eyes off the boy Sean. Brent’s friend had dark, curly hair, dark eyes and a sculpted, sensitive face, and was of medium height and thinly built. Jennifer tingled all over, watching him from the counter in the tiny kitchen, anxiously waiting for the soccer to end and her seduction to begin. Once the woman put her mind to something, she followed through with her body.
When the final whistle at last tweeted on an exciting 3–3 draw, Jennifer was brimming with excitement herself, hardly believing what she was about to do.
Sean stood up, wobbled, gripped the armrest of the couch.
‘Hey, guy,’ Brent said, grinning. ‘Maybe you’d better crash on the couch here tonight, drive home in the morning.’
‘Naw! I’m fine.’ Sean took a step, and teetered. ‘Yeah, OK, maybe you’re right.’
‘I’ll drive him home, Brent,’ Jennifer offered, springing into action, ready to score a goal of her own.
Brent looked at her and blinked. His girlfriend’s usual white T-shirt and blue jeans had been replaced by a slinky red dress and slutty red heels. Her hair was done up and her face made up with red lipstick and blue eye-shadow.
He settled back into the couch, his blurred mind not comprehending anything unusual. He had absolute faith in Jennifer’s faithfulness. ‘Uh, yeah, OK, good idea, Jen. You can drive him home in our car, and I’ll drive his car over tomorrow morning on my way to work.’
Jennifer took Sean’s hand and led him out the door of the apartment. ‘I won’t be too late,’ she tossed back to Brent over her shoulder. ‘Try not to miss me too much.’