Brandon sucked long and hard on Tyler’s hood, playfully popping it in and out of his mouth until it glistened with hot saliva. Then the full-grown boy-toy licked up and down Tyler’s long, hard shaft, painting Tyler’s raging erection with his spit, slobbering all over the man’s pulsating meat – up and down, up and down. He only stopped tongue-buffing Tyler’s cock when he jammed his nose into Tyler’s balls, used his tongue to lick at the groaning man’s heavy, furry testicles.
Tyler staggered back a couple of steps as the sheer sexual intensity of Brandon’s balling, of the whole oppressively erotic situation, hit him like a ton of bricks. Brandon hung on to Tyler’s cock, however, and scooched forward and sucked on one ball and then the other, then cravenly sucked Tyler’s entire sac into his mouth and tugged on it. He stared up at Tyler, his mouth full of man-sac, and Tyler’s body trembled with joy.
Brandon could obviously sense that Tyler was already close to orgasm, as I was, because he disgorged the guy’s tremendous balls, let him settle down a bit, and then went back to work on his mammoth cock. He gobbled down as much of Tyler’s incredible length as he could, then bobbed his head up and down, sucking on the swollen tool, slowly, slowly at first, then faster and faster and faster.
‘Fuck, yeah!’ Tyler cried, desperately gripping Brandon’s pumping blond head. He churned his hips in rhythm to Brandon’s cock-sucking, jamming his member as far into Brandon’s stretched-out mouth and throat as he could. ‘I’m gonna come!’ he screamed all too soon, his cock crammed to the balls inside my guy’s talented mouth.
Brandon quickly pulled Tyler’s soaking wet meat out of his throat, and picked up with his hand where his mouth had left off, winking at me to let me know that I was going to see the whole show – money-shot and all. My smouldering snatch caught fire as my fingers blurred, and a huge orgasm welled up inside my cunt. And just as I was finger-fucking myself to boy-boy-inspired ecstasy Tyler’s huge cock erupted with an orgasm of his own.
‘Jesus!’ he shrieked, as Brandon buffed the guy’s enraged cock with his hand. White-hot come rocketed out of the tip of Tyler’s gorgeous dick and splashed onto Brandon’s face, into his open mouth.
Brandon jerked thick, steaming ropes of semen out of Tyler’s cock and onto his tongue, all over his face, as Tyler and I were ravaged by blistering orgasms. Brandon’s face was soon coated with Tyler’s sticky, white goo, but he kept right on pulling on the man-lover’s spurting cock, anxious for more. Brandon milked and milked Tyler’s cock, until, finally, Tyler’s body convulsed a final time and his cock spurted a last dollop of come onto Brandon’s outstretched tongue. Brandon took the spent cock into his mouth and sucked on it, as Tyler groaned and stroked Brandon’s hair.
Multiple orgasms had torn me apart as I’d watched Tyler face-paint my boyfriend with semen, but I still stumbled out of the closet, weak as a kitten, revealing myself and my need for yet further sexual adventure.
‘Hi ... Heather,’ Tyler gasped, catching his breath, seemingly not at all surprised to see me or my nudity.
‘Hi, babe,’ Brandon chimed in, standing up and grabbing me in his arms and kissing me, the taste of Tyler’s come still thick on his lips and tongue. ‘I got an idea how you guys can get me off, now,’ he said.
Tyler grinned and nodded. ‘I think I’ve got the same idea.’ He reached under the bed and pulled out a strap-on that I’d never seen before. ‘Think it’ll fit Heather?’ he asked Brandon.
‘Hey, dude, the question is, will it fit me? Right, babe?’
I smiled up at him, realising that I’d been had, bad. Brandon had obviously pre-planned his “seduction” of Tyler, with Tyler, well in advance. I wasn’t complaining, though. Far from it. Instead, I snatched the strap-on out of Tyler’s hands and quickly fastened it around my hips and over my cunt. The flesh-coloured imitation cock was almost as long and thick as Tyler’s cock, and I waved it threateningly at Brandon. ‘Let’s see if you can take what momma can dish out, big boy.’
Brandon laughed and jumped on the bed and assumed the doggy-position, sticking his hard, round, sun-burnished arse in the air and wiggling it, daring me to shove my faux-cock inside him. He and Tyler had obviously rehearsed their positioning ahead of time (which led me to briefly, and enviously, wonder just how much ‘rehearsing’ they’d been doing together), because Tyler climbed onto the bed, rolled onto his back, and slid his head in between Brandon’s muscled legs. The lusty men quickly began sixty-nining each other as I gaped in astonishment.
‘If you wanna stay, you gotta play, babe,’ Brandon said to me, sucking and stroking his cocky friend to a second incredible hardness.
‘Yeah, come join the party, Heather,’ Tyler said in a muffled voice. He smacked Brandon’s studly cock against his lips, then sucked it into his mouth and got a good, steady, wet rhythm going. His cheeks billowed in and out with the effort, and Brandon groaned.
It was about time I got in on the act. I climbed onto the bed and positioned myself such that my plastic man was pointing straight at the pink entrance to Brandon’s beautiful bum. He stopped blowing his fellow cocksman for a second, and reached back and spread his arse cheeks, inviting me to penetrate his pucker.
I glanced uncertainly from my humungous, veined cock, to Brandon’s tiny, tight starfish. Then I shrugged my shoulders, slickened my artificial hard-on with spit, and pressed the size large head up against Brandon’s size small opening.
‘Fuck me, babe,’ he grunted. ‘Fuck me in the arse with your big cock.’
I never thought I’d hear a plea like that from any boyfriend of mine, but his words drove me crazy, and I pushed my hips forward until the swollen head of my cock penetrated his arsehole. I began to sink inside him as he moaned encouragement, his own cock now buried almost to the balls inside Tyler’s mouth. I recklessly pushed ahead and my cock plunged deeper into his arse, until, in a matter of tense, erotically-charged seconds, I had my entire waist-mounted dildo stuffed inside of that boy’s golden arse.
‘Yeah,’ he groaned, getting it from both ends. He tried to gobble up Tyler’s cock, like he had before, but my thrusting hips smacked against his bum faster and faster, jolting his body, making cock-sucking all but impossible. So, instead, he polished Tyler’s prick with his hand.
I grabbed onto Brandon’s narrow waist and churned my hips, sliding my cock back and forth in his arse ever faster and more boldly, until I was banging his pretty petoot like a drum, splitting him in two with my big-headed battering ram. His taut butt cheeks trembled with glee each time I pounded his bunghole with my cock, rippled joyously to the beat of my frenzied anal plunging.
And as I was butt-fucking Brandon, Tyler kept right on sucking him off, craning his neck so he could gulp down as much of Brandon’s glistening cock as he could, the breath whistling out of his flared nostrils as he mouth-stroked Brandon’s meat. Brandon could only hang his head and arch his arse in dizzy disbelief, as he got pumped from the rear and sucked from the front.
‘Oh, man, I’m gonna come,’ he breathed. ‘Babe and dude, I’m gonna come!’
I hung on tight to his sweat-slick hips and hammered away at his arse, my pussy blazing with the friction of the butt-pounding I was giving my guy. My tits jounced up and down as I plundered the stud’s anus, my joy-toy diving deep inside his sun-kissed arse.
‘I’m coming!’ Brandon yelled, and his body spasmed over and over in the throes of all-out ecstasy.
If he thought that his warning was going to make Tyler disgorge his spurting cock, he was thankfully mistaken. Tyler kept Brandon’s dick firmly locked between his lips, buried in his throat, as Brandon sprayed load after load of super-heated jizz into Tyler’s mouth. Brandon’s big, sweat-sheened body jerked in ecstasy each time he blasted another wad of semen up against Tyler’s tonsils.
‘Fuck almighty!’ Brandon hollered, as I plugged his arse and Tyler drained his cock.
When Brandon’s heaving, brown body was at last still, I slid my cock out of his violated bum and slapped it up against
his twitching arse cheeks. Tyler hand-jerked himself a few final drops of salty goo from Brandon’s slick, softening meat, and captured them on his tongue.
Brandon lifted his head and looked at me. ‘Hey, babe,’ he gasped, ‘let us know if you have any more fantasies. Maybe Tyler and I can help with them, too.’
I did, and they did.
Distractions
by Elizabeth Coldwell
The band was striking up a polka as Blake and Trixie walked into the grand hall where the masked costume ball was taking place. Around them, voices babbled excitedly, and the air was heavy with the scent of tall white lilies arranged in vases around the room.
Blake paused for a moment to adjust the etched silver mask that covered his eyes and, thought Trixie, lent him a more than usually roguish air. Her master would never be the tallest man in the room, nor the most conventionally handsome, but he carried himself with a confident, assured bearing that instinctively drew women’s eyes to him. It was the same reaction she’d had in that bar in New Orleans, a little over three years ago, the night she had given herself to him. What a night that had been...
A waiter approached, offering the two of them glasses of what Trixie hoped was decent champagne. It was so long since she’d last tasted it. Studying the waiter as she accepted a drink from him with her most charming smile, she thought he was one of the cutest men she’d seen in ages, with dappled frosting in his blond hair and hooded green eyes that gave him an almost feline look. As he moved on to serve the next guest, she admired his rear view, arse cheeks moulded by his tight-fitting uniform pants.
‘Nice arse, leopard boy,’ she murmured, just loud enough for the waiter to hear. She hoped she’d made him blush, though the reaction she really wanted to elicit was one that would have him stiffening to attention in his underwear. If he was wearing underwear, that was. She always loved the moment when she unzipped a man’s pants – under Blake’s watchful eye, of course – to discover he was bare beneath them, his cock already rising up to meet her eager fingers.
‘Trixie.’ She caught the sharp admonition in Blake’s voice. Unrepentant, she took a sip from her glass. Bubbles popped on her tongue. Not the really good stuff, she was sorry to note, but pretty fine all the same. Senator Manley clearly did not believe in holding back when it came to entertaining. It was why invitations to his annual July 4th costume party were so eagerly anticipated – and so hard to obtain.
‘Sorry, sir,’ she replied, though her tone made it perfectly clear she was anything but. The beads in her headdress danced against her dirty-blonde hair as she turned her head to take another lingering glance at the waiter’s taut behind. ‘But you have to admit he’s hot. I’m sure you’d love to order me to strip, then get down on my knees and suck his big hard cock...’
‘Trixie, you’re not here to fuck,’ Blake reminded her, before she could lose herself completely in the erotic fantasy she was weaving. ‘I need you to behave yourself tonight.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Trixie pouted, wondering whether she would be able to help herself to any of the delicious-looking canapés on a nearby table. They might have been at the ball to work, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy themselves. ‘So what’s the plan?’
‘The senator’s wife keeps her valuables in a jewellery box in her boudoir.’ His eyes shone at the merest mention of liberating them, Trixie couldn’t help but notice. ‘Anyone else would have locked them away, but the senator seems strangely complacent about his security.’
That was true enough. After all, they’d managed to bluff their way in here without official invitations, using a combination of Blake’s inherent self-assurance and the costumes they’d lifted from that unfortunate couple at the airport.
Blake continued, ‘We just need to distract everyone’s attention for long enough to slip upstairs without anyone noticing we’ve gone. I was going to wait till the senator was making his speech, but the shameless way you’ve been flirting with that waiter has given me another idea ...’
Blake waited till a waitress passed carrying a large oval salver of crackers piled high with salmon roe and sour cream. He moved to help himself to a couple, smiling at the waitress as he did. Trixie knew that smile well; it melted something inside her every time he turned it on. It was clearly having the same effect on the waitress as she blushed and fidgeted a little on her teetering heels. That was the moment Blake chose to knock the salver from the girl’s hands, making it look like sheer clumsiness, rather than the calculated act it actually was.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ he began, as crackers scattered across the floor and every head turned at the sound of the metallic clang of the salver hitting the marble tiles. Blake bent to help the waitress retrieve the fallen snacks, but before he did he mouthed to Trixie, ‘Upstairs – now!’
Already people were turning away from the mayhem Blake had created to resume their previous conversations, but none of them took the least notice of Trixie as she quietly tiptoed out of the grand hall. The staircase to the upper floors was directly opposite. Trixie checked the hallway to see whether anyone was around, but the place was deserted. Presumably the staff were all either working in the kitchens or waiting on the guests.
She took a moment to slip off her shoes, then started climbing the stairs. Her heart hammered in her chest. Surely someone was bound to see her, and ask what she was doing, here where she clearly had no right to be? Didn’t the senator have security personnel keeping an eye on him, maybe even Secret Service, particularly on a night when so many members of the Upper House and minor celebrities were under his roof?
There were white cotton gloves tucked into an inside fold of her dress, and she put them on, anxious not to leave any incriminating fingerprints as she began her search of the rooms. Her destination was the bedroom belonging to the senator’s wife. It was behind the third door she tried, having already poked her head into a lavishly appointed bathroom that looked larger than the apartment she and Blake called home, and what was obviously the senator’s bedroom. It didn’t surprise her that the couple slept apart. Cindi Manley was a good 30 years younger than her husband, and it was common knowledge theirs was a marriage of political expediency, rather than a love match. So unlike the all-consuming bond Trixie had forged with Blake. Though it was a bond that could be loosened enough to admit a third party from time to time. Like, for existence, the hot young waiter with the mouth-watering arse ...
Trixie could almost hear Blake’s voice in her head, telling her to concentrate on what she was supposed to be doing, as her feet sank into the deep carpet of Cindi Manley’s boudoir. Decorated in lush shades of damson and gold, it spoke of a highly sensuous woman who was as sure of her own sexuality as Trixie was of hers. It wouldn’t surprise Trixie in the least to learn a stream of lovers had flowed through here, planting their seed in the senator’s wife’s willing body while her husband snored in the next room, oblivious. Or maybe the old goat did know? Maybe he consented to be cuckolded, quite prepared to do whatever it took to keep her happy, from allowing her the freedom to take lovers to buying her the lavish jewels that spilled from the box on her dressing table.
‘Oh, but they’re beautiful,’ Trixie breathed. Pearls, rubies, amethysts and precious stones she couldn’t even put a name to lay in glittering heaps before her. She reached into the box, trying to think what Blake would want her to take, and at that moment she heard the bedroom door open. Half-turning, she saw her master letting himself into the room.
‘Good girl, Trixie,’ he said, glancing at the necklaces and bracelets she clutched in her gloved hands. Those words of praise, more usually issued when she had taken half a dozen cuts of the whip across her back and thighs, or been spanked until her arse was a sore, blotched mess and tears of love and gratitude ran down her face, made her glow. ‘I knew I could rely on you. Had you picked anything out for me?’
‘Not yet,’ she replied. Her eyes had instinctively been drawn to the most spectacular item in Cindi Manley’s collection, a choker mad
e of black diamonds, but she knew Blake would reject that as being too difficult to sell on. Anyone handling it would immediately know where it had come from, and only the least scrupulous dealer would fail to alert the authorities immediately and collect the reward that would be placed on its safe return.
She watched as Blake picked through the box, selecting a couple of necklaces. They might have looked anonymous at the side of the black diamonds, but each was studded with more than enough in the way of gems to make them worth taking. Then he reached for a pair of earrings. Like all the ones in Cindi Manley’s collection, they were designed to be screwed into place. As he held them up to the light, the stones that dangled from them seemed to change colour; red one moment, purple the next.
Trixie expected him to place them in the same velvet bag in which he’d put the necklaces. Instead, he turned to her, a wicked grin on his masked face. ‘Take off your dress, Trixie.’
‘What? You can’t be serious!’ Trixie exclaimed, although she knew he was. He wasn’t just responding to their decadent surroundings; for Blake, the act of theft was a huge turn-on in itself. When they’d got home after lifting the woman’s bag at the airport, the first thing he had done was push Trixie up against the wall and fuck her with fast, furious strokes. She’d been more than ready for him. Theft was an aphrodisiac for her, too. It was partly why they were so well suited. When there was a risk of being caught in the act, as there was now, it only served to stoke Blake’s lust even further. She didn’t need to glance down to know that his cock would be hard as iron in his stolen costume.
So, wondering exactly what he had in mind, Trixie stripped quickly out of her dress, standing before Blake in nothing but a tiny lace thong and her white gloves.
Best of Both: When You Just Can't Decide Page 16
