"I should be getting to ready for my wedding."
Rusty offered no retort except to bury his head between her thighs and probe her tender pussy lips with the tip of his tongue. Up and down he licked, tapping at her clit in between long, slow strokes. He enjoyed the release of nectar as Dara bucked and cried. No way could she deny feeling pleasure. Did Ross eat her like this? Unlikely. Surely this had to beat an open account at Macy's.
"Get. Ready.” The words were slurred, their speaker heavily under the influence. “Wedding."
"What about our wedding, Dara?” This from Glen. Rusty felt Dara jump at the sound of his voice. Pursing his lips over her clit, Rusty nicked relentlessly at her distended bud and watched the exchange above him. Her scent assaulted his senses and seemed to strengthen as Mark and Glen each took a nipple in hand, rolling them between roughened fingers.
Dara hardly looked the part of Ross’ bride. Blushing, definitely, yet...
"We were out of college and had our whole lives ahead of us,” Glen was saying. “I was going to go to law school; you were going study art. We had the registrations done and the married housing reserved. The only thing I didn't have was the wife to go with it. What was the excuse then?"
"I'm s-sorry.” That Dara couldn't manage those two words, especially with Mark now sucking at that one nipple, was nothing short of amazing. “Sc-scared."
"Scared of what, grad school? Makes sense, seeing as how you dropped out before school even started. But what about me?” Glen demanded between kisses to her neck and collarbone. “I didn't even get a letter. I got a fucking Post-It stuck to the windshield of my car."
Rusty kept his mouth pinned to Dara's pussy, stifling a laugh.
Dara's voice found strength in her orgasm, though the tone remained weak as her body acquiesced to the sensual attack. Rusty had two fingers in her slick core now, pumping lightly as he sped attention to her clit. With one forceful arch Dara's body reared upward and she cried out. Glen and Mark grounded her shoulders to the mattress, no doubt enhancing her high as they clamped down on each nipple, nibbling and sucking as she floated back to earth.
Rusty unseated himself and hovered over her quivering belly. Her face flushed, her breathing shallow, she could only moan. “That's one,” he said.
"One?” Dara managed.
"One down, one for each of us."
Dara's head lolled back.
"Answer Glen, Dara,” he said evenly. “Why did you leave him?"
"I wasn't ready,” she gasped, and twisted her upper body to dislodge the other men from her breasts. Glen seemed to take that as a signal to move to parts south. Rusty gladly obliged a trade in position, and soon Glen was enjoying a taste. Kneeling on his haunches at Dara's head, Rusty stroked his length, teasing Dara by brushing the purpling head just past her ear, beckoning her to lick the pre-cum bubbling at the slit.
He had to admire her willpower. She licked her lips and fixed on his cock but didn't dare move.
"Answer him,” Rusty urged. “He's paying attention, just don't expect an immediate rebuttal."
"I said I wasn't ready, to be married then,” Dara finally finished. “Glen was always sure of what he wanted—"
Ten years later, that didn't seem to change. Glen lapped at her pussy as though he'd never have the chance to go down on a woman again.
"I didn't want him to live with a woman who might regret her decisions,” she added.
"How considerate of you. Still doesn't make it right, how you left things,” Rusty said. “A Post-It?"
"It was ten years ago! I don't remember. I probably wasn't thinking clearly at the time."
Apparently, Glen was willing to forget that long ago, impersonal gesture. Hands cuffing her hips, he ground deep into her pussy, licking and waving his face against her with abandon. His nose scraped against the feathered hairs covering her mound. They fluttered gently with each exhale.
"And you think clearly around Ross? Is your head in the game now, being fondled and sucked by the men you jilted while the man you plan to marry is waiting for you somewhere in a starched suit?"
"You know damn well I have no power here,” Dara seethed. “How can I fight against three men intent on raping me?"
Rusty clicked his tongue. Even Mark lifted his head and offered an unconvinced glare. “Come on, Dara,” Rusty chided. “you can't rape the willing. And you can't tell me you aren't enjoying this."
As though connected by the same thought, all three men momentarily lifted away from her. Dara's body glistened with interrupted kisses and racked heavy, silent sobs. She made no move to adjust her spread eagle position or cover her bare breasts. Nor did she try to sit up and leave when they made a clear path for her to do so.
"I thought so,” Glen said and resumed sucking her clit. The air escaping through Dara's clenched teeth made a sizzling noise that pitched up an octave when Mark's hand slid over her curves to the juncture of her thighs. There he played with Dara's pussy lips as Glen continued to lick her, parting her cleft with his forefingers to allow anyone a better view of Glen's skills.
"Why are you doing this to me?” Each word stretched to at most three syllables, punctuated by a second orgasm that nearly visibly rippled over her body. Rusty inched lower and closer to Dara's face, silently willing her to take his cock, and allow her the pleasure of giving and receiving.
Right now, she appeared to be focused more on what Glen gave, and how Mark attempted to divert her attention.
"You left the three of us at the altar, Dara. What better way to show you what you've missed over the years by doing it now, together?"
"I'm sorry!” she cried. “I'm sorry I hurt all of you. I was an immature brat. Stop it!"
"You mean that?” Mark asked. “You want this to stop now?"
Weeping, Dara shook her head. “How did you guys ever find each other?” she asked, eyes now on Rusty's bulging cock. “There is no connection. Neither of you knew each other. Not that I could see."
"They answered the post on the blog I created, Jilted By Dara dot-com,” smirked Mark.
"How we came together isn't important.” Rusty rejoined to alleviate Mark's bad joke. “All that matters is we did, and that you'll come for us ... at least one more time.” At that cue, Glen released Dara's pussy to Mark, who inched forward for a deep, loving taste. Dara thrashed her head back and her body tensed, braced for the next round.
Glen shifted back upward on the bed and mirrored Rusty's position at Dara's head, fingering the head of his cock so that it touched his abdomen. The gesture lengthened the shaft and brought his scrotum to a more prominent position between his legs. Scooting closer to Dara he urged, “Take me in your mouth, babe. Remember how we used to do oral for hours without coming up for air?"
"Um,” Dara said. Her eyes seemed to reflect a desire to relive old times, and Glen took advantage of her now acquiescent nature to ease his cock past her lips. Dara closed her eyes and wasted no time reacquainting herself with the art of fellatio. Lifting her head towards him, Dara bobbed back and forth, her lips pursing around Glen's darkening head and swallowing him whole again.
Glen arched his back and sighed happily. “I've missed that so much. So fucking great."
Even as Mark brought her to her third orgasm, licking with abandon at her swollen clit, Dara managed to keep hold of Glen. Her cries were muffled with the seal formed by her lips around Glen's thick shaft, and her face reddened from the effort of her body twitching with muted pleasure. When she finally calmed down she registered no acknowledgement as two pairs of hands grasped her waist and bottom.
"Turn over, babe,” Rusty urged, and Dara moved like a drowsy person guided from the couch to bed. Mouth still employed, with one hand cuffing Glen's ass, the kneeling position in which she was set allowed her better opportunity to suck. She tried to nudge Glen so her posture could straighten out, but Glen kept her still with a hand to her shoulders.
"Just wait,” he trilled, in the throes of pending orgasm. He held her to his cock
as Rusty, now sheathed, maneuvered his body underneath hers. He guided her knees to balance on the mattress, then fingered the slickness of her core. She was more than ready, and when Rusty settled her on his waiting cock he was rewarded by an enthusiasm punctuated by her tightening pussy muscles. Wet, tight, hot, and definitely not missing Hubie.
Rusty grunted, undulated his hips as best he could to keep the friction going. “Having fun?"
Dara's answer was a happy groan that rumbled over Glen's cock. When she did release him it was only to take a deep breath before resuming her oral ministrations.
"Just you wait,” Rusty whispered, and nodded to Mark, who waited behind Dara's raised ass, his sheathed rod tapping at her curves.
Dara appeared to attempt a glance to the rear, but clearly the prospect of having to stop sucking Glen's cock prevented that. The way her face pinched even before Mark eased himself into Dara's anus, though, told him she knew what to expect. A sharp, brief squeal escaping the seal of her lips revealed another truth.
She and Hubie only did so much, it seemed.
Gently, shushing away her apprehension, Mark managed to fill her completely. He began a slow, steady rhythm to match Dara's ride on Rusty's cock. Back and forth Dara's body rocked to the sensation overload, her breasts thick and pendulous over Rusty's face. He lifted his head to capture one nipple and suckled hard, determined that Dara be pleasured as much as possible in this fleeting moment.
Enjoy it while you can, babe. Hubie could never give her this. Hubie could barely give her a fraction of the passion any one of them could have provided. If she thought she would be able to walk away—figuratively, anyway—from this scene and straight to the church...
Further thoughts were interrupted as Dara's released Glen and bellowed one final earthquake of an orgasm. The impact was enough to send Glen reeling onto his back, his cum splattering the sheets and his bare skin. For the short time they had been inside Dara, both Mark and Rusty were not long in coming themselves. Their simultaneous roars sounded like a stereo jacked to high volume, the anguished pleasure of their joint orgasm vibrated the walls and might have shattered glass, or at the very least sent everybody in the house stampeding into Dara's bedroom to see what sick animal was attacking their bride.
As it happened, the house settled into blissful quiet as Dara collapsed atop Rusty, with Mark curled over her back and planting kisses on the nape of her neck. Their breathing synchronized into a deep rhythm, their bodies rose and fell like flotsam floating peacefully on the sea.
Dara's lips parted over Rusty's sweat-slick chest, and her eyelashes tickled him as she fluttered into an exhaustive nap. Rusty kissed the top of her head. “Dara,” he said, “I think you're going to be late."
"Late for what?” she asked.
* * * *
The playback was excellent, motion picture quality with distinct sound. Anybody watching this homemade porn would hear every ooh, ahh, and ohh with clarity. Dara smiled to herself as she aimed the remote at the DVD player and pressed the eject button. She had to wonder how comfortable actual adult film stars felt watching themselves in action. While the voyeuristic aspect triggered some want—she squirmed as her pussy throbbed with the recent memory—Dara decided she would rather participate than watch. Perhaps that was the consensus with all performers.
She was lounging downstairs on the living room sofa, wrapped in her robe and sipping a mimosa made from the bottle of Dom she had purchased for her wedding night. No sense wasting two hundred bucks worthy of pummeled grapes, she decided with an exaggerated smacking of her lips. Setting the crystal flute on the coffee table before her, she shut off the television and leaned back against the frilly throw pillows. Gifts from her would-be mother-in-law, they felt like stones stabbing her lower back. Dara knew, though, she had no right to be angry with the woman who was blameless for her son's behavior.
Save for the activity in the kitchen, the house was empty, and had been since the night before. Dara had wanted to be alone for this, and the absence of loved ones served to see this act of revenge to fruition. Nobody had been here to tell her she was out of her mind, and nobody was here to stop her from taking the final step.
The DVD tray slid open to reveal the shiny disc. Dara lifted it with perfectly manicured nails and set it in its jewel box. On the coffee table next to it she laid a large manila envelope, filled with pictures of Ross and one of his partners at the firm.
She didn't want to believe at first that Ross had been cheating on her, especially with somebody so close as a co-worker. That Ross had been interested in Dara romantically was initially a surprise to the young office manager, albeit not an unpleasant one. For all his ruthless demeanor behind the desk, Ross was handsome and kind, shrewd in business dealings and giving—if only adequate—in bed. Dara had decided his other qualities would well make up for any sexual shortcomings. They were to have a lifetime together to improve, of course.
Of course ... One late night at work too many, where her services were not required, ignited her suspicions. A spontaneous trip to the office to surprise him with a romantic carpet picnic left her in shock when she found her fiancé and the other woman trysting on his desk.
Dara picked up the envelope and tilted one end. The photos spilled into her hand and she studied each one. Neither of the guilty party had seen Dara crouched just outside their door, snapping shots with her camera phone. Developed and blown to a larger size, the photos were not as clear as her filmed revenge fuck, but one would easily be able to tell who was sucking what on Ross’ eighty-dollar Levenger desk blotter.
"Anything good?"
Dara startled at the sound of Rusty's voice, and she smiled at him as he sauntered in from the kitchen. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt now, and holding two Cokes. He spied the mimosa and grinned. “I see you're taken care of."
"In more ways than one, thanks anyway.” Dara patted the spare sofa cushion and Rusty settled on the opposite end like a teenager on his first date. Hardly indicative of the man who had made her feel so wanton, who had stretched her to the limits only half and hour earlier.
"The others get off okay?” she asked, and just as quickly winced at her choice of words. Rusty laughed out loud and held his soda can high as a stream of caramel foam spilled from the open lip over his fingers.
"Yes. They did, thanks,” Rusty said, setting the can on a magazine Dara gestured to him. “They asked me to give you this."
He reached into his back pocket, and Dara protested as he tried to hand her the wad of bills she had given them at the beginning of the staged event.
"What, no. This is yours. Payment for services rendered.” She waved away the money. “I mean, this is what you guys do, right?” In truth, the website where she had found the trio stipulated that they could not be paid for sexual favors, as that was considered soliciting. When Dara decided to put this plan into motion, the fees paid Rusty, Glen, and Mark were for the “acting” job. The sex was, naturally, a welcome bonus.
"Yeah, but while you were getting dressed we got to talking and figured we couldn't charge you for something like this,” he said. “Besides, we had too much fun. Why let money taint the good feeling, you know?"
"Okay.” Dara reluctantly took the cash and curled it in her fist. She didn't like the idea of sending them away without compensation, but as she noted the blushing sincerity on Rusty's face, she realized it didn't matter to them. They had enjoyed it as much as she did.
"Thanks,” she added softly, and dropped the money in her lap. Placing the photos back in the envelope, she lifted the gummed flap to her lips to seal it.
"Hey, you're not putting in the movie,” Rusty said, reaching for the disc. “I thought that was the point, making the flick to get back at this guy."
"It was.” Dara nodded. “Ross cheated on me, and I got my revenge. The film is for me."
"Yeah?” Rusty looked suddenly uncomfortable. “What for?"
"To remind me that I am better off without a man to guide my lif
e, that I have the freedom to do as I please. If I want to pay three men to fuck me at the same time, I'll do just that and not worry about hurting anybody else."
"Well, technically you didn't pay us."
Dara laughed. It would be nice, yes, for that to happen again without having to hire anyone. At the very least, she'd have the DVD and her memories to sustain the many lonely nights she was certain to endure going forward.
"From now on, I do what I please. Ross doesn't have to know anything of my life anymore. It's none of his business."
"Hey,” Rusty said, “did you really leave three men at the altar?"
Dara shook her head. Ross had been her first serious love. More than likely the last, too. Love would have to take a backseat to Dara's whims for the time being. “But he doesn't have to know that, either."
"I was almost beginning to think I was your ex-boyfriend,” Rusty laughed.
"Well, thanks for sticking to the script, for the most part. Though, I have to admit the ad-libbing was fun.” Dara smirked. “A Post-It break-up? Where'd you guys get that?"
Rusty shrugged, his smile coy. “We draw from real life, too. Anyway, you're welcome.” He nodded at the envelope. “You want me to deliver that for you?"
Dara looked at the package, then at the handsome blond before her. “You want to break the news to my ex-fiancé?"
"The pictures will do that just fine. I want a good look at the idiot who would dump a hot lady like you."
Dara had to remind herself Rusty was off the clock now. With a coquettish smile she surrendered the evidence. She had no burning desire to see Ross again. Too bad she couldn't tape his reaction. She gave Rusty quick directions to the church. “He'll be the one in the tux checking his Rolex."
Rusty mock saluted and leaped off the couch toward the door. He was over the threshold when he turned around suddenly and lowered his eyes. “You gonna be okay?"
"Yeah,” Dara sighed. She had to admit, this wasn't how she had originally planned the day. Ross would likely be by later, demanding an explanation, but she would not be home. She was exhausted, spent and tingling from the morning's adventure. A day to herself, pampered at her favorite spa or maybe a movie or two, sounded like good therapy for soothing the soul.
Jilted Page 2
