I felt Zach squirm a little under me before grabbing my waist, carefully.
“What’s going on?” asked Zach.
“I think she’s chosen…” said Tyler, amusement in his eyes.
I nodded my assent.
“Chosen?” asked Zach.
“She’s run this by me a few times. Actually, a lot of times. Too many times in my opinion,” he chuckled darkly. “I think you’re the third.”
“What?” asked Zach, perplexed.
Instead of further explanation I reached between my legs and found Zach’s dick. It was semi-hard, as I had hoped. I leaned forward and kissed him with intention this time, deeply, moving my waist against his cock, feeling him get hard under me. Soon his hands on my waist turned into a grip on my ass that made me get wet immediately. My teasing turned into intense arousal almost immediately. Yes, he was definitely going to be our third.
Chapter Three
Zach looked bewildered for a moment when he realized who he had been kissing and where his hands were. He released suddenly and shook his head, looking groggy from alcohol.
“Relax,” I said to him, drawing his attention back to me and pulling his hands up to cup my breasts. He lay his hands there, unwilling to remove them but unwilling to try anything. “Zach, you’re our third. We want to share this with you. You’re perfect for it. I’ve had this fantasy about being with two men and you are the one I want to try it with.”
I leaned in and kissed him once more. I rubbed my hands down his chest and saw, with each rub of his chest, his arousal growing. The dim lights of the television showed his eyes, dark and hungry, focused on my body. He tentatively began to rub his hands across my breasts and down to my stomach and then, with growing wonder, down to my clit where it rested for a moment, pressing, almost as if ensuring it was really there, that I really wanted him to touch me there.
I smiled and closed my eyes, feeling him begin to move under me and riding him like a delicate wave. He was hard as stone and each movement teased me, begging me to open and let him in. I looked across at Tyler, who watched me with pleasure and approval.
I pulled my top off and stripped off Zach’s shirt. I saw Tyler disrobe quietly. Zach’s attention stayed focused on me. He only wanted my body, had only eyes for me. He was suddenly in me, slipped in from between my shorts and panties, his movements pushing him into me inadvertently. It drove me wild, setting me ablaze. I leaned over to find Tyler and make the trio complete. Tyler was already hard and he entered my mouth delicately. I rode Zach, feeling him penetrate me deeper and deeper even as Tyler’s entire cock filled my mouth. Suddenly Zach seemed to realize this was really happening.
He rose from the bed and pulled off my shorts and panties. He entered me, sliding in and out with a moan each time. I felt like my whole body had been set ablaze. I wanted more. Zach’s finger played around my other opening, toying with the tight pucker of my ass. Still pulling in and out of my pussy, he began to finger my asshole, slowly. Feeling a dick in my mouth, another in my pussy and a finger in my ass was one fantasy fulfilled. I felt myself rise closer and closer to orgasm, only to be denied as Tyler pulled me away from Zach and onto him. He flipped me around and entered my asshole in one smooth movement of excruciating pleasure. Reaching a hand around to my breasts, he continued to pleasure me.
Zach froze, looking confused as to what to do. He had mistaken Tyler’s move as an end to this episode.
“There’s room for more than just one, Zach,” I encouraged. I reached out and pulled him into the bed. He lay on his side, staring into my eyes. I guided him into my pussy and felt myself shudder with pleasure. Suddenly I was being pushed and pulled, back and forth, up and down, twisted and merged, made into a vessel distributing and receiving pleasure, endlessly, infinitely, a circle of give and take, a universe all in one bed.
I had never felt so complete. As if I were being rocked into the best sleep of my life, the warmth and wetness of being pushed between them onto the most orgasmic wave of pleasure. It swept through me and made me scream out.
But it was not over. Tyler sat up and pulled me onto him, his beautiful cock pumping in and out of my open asshole. My pussy was available for the taking and Zach did not hesitate. He pushed into me and hammered at the centre of my pleasure. I felt encircled by love and affection from two of my best friends, and they wanted only to make me feel what they felt in the warmth of my body.
Tyler reached up from under me and continued to tease my nipples, tweaking, pinching, pulling, rubbing and massaging. It made my orgasm that much better when Zach basically pounded it out of me. I could not control my cries of pleasure. There had been a reason why Lindsay had always made so much noise. Zach was a machine.
With a groan, I knew he was about to bust. He pulled out and instead buried his tongue inside of me and licked up and outward toward my clit, sucking, licking, pulling and pushing me to cum onto his tongue. I was flipped around then, completely in the control of the two men, shared up for their pleasure, as Tyler took to fingering me while I leaned my head back and allowed Zach to bury his cock in my mouth, making my mouth water as he did.
Tyler soon traded his fingers for his cock and pushed me all the way back to that blissful fullness that I knew I would never be able to quit. He pushed into one hole and then the other, leaving a feeling of emptiness before quelling it in turn. He played with my clit as he did, then took to fingering my asshole when he had traded to pounding my desperately wet pussy. Meanwhile, Zach played with my breasts while fucking my mouth. I did not know I could feel satisfaction this complete. Every part of me was attended to, kept busy for their desire and mine. I felt like a shared toy in a strange way that made me feel happy to be of service. Because they treated me like the most precious possession.
To seal off this near spiritual feeling of community, we all came at the same time, finishing with yells of pleasure and approval stemming from all of us in unison.
When we were done, I lay, lifeless and completely used up on the bed. I could not move. My joints felt like they were out of place, my body was putty. I had never felt this removed from my body but at the same time completely and wholly attached to every ligament.
We lay there, breathless, drained and happy. We fell asleep, my legs across Tyler torso, my head on Zach’s back, his head at the bottom of the bed.
The night passed too quickly and all too soon, the sun was up and burning in my eyes. Someone was moving around. I still felt Zach under my head and Tyler was securely wrapped between my legs. Who could it be?
I squinted my eyes open and saw the disbelieving yet livid face of Lindsay.
“WHAT. THE. FUCK?!” she shrieked.
Story Thirty-Seven
Chapter One
Twenty-one was a rough birthday for me. All I wore were dingy sweatshirts, glasses that made my eyes three sizes larger than they were, and still had braces on my teeth. Who still has braces when they’re twenty-one? I did. Plus, I didn’t have a penny to my name. Luckily, at twenty-two, all that changed. A six-figure bank account, a brand-new sports car, designer clothes, braces off: I made it big. All this because I got a job tutoring Brian Atherton. My job title? The Math Slut.
I grew up in rough circumstances. My family never had much money. We were the family that brought a book of coupons with us to the grocery store. There was never a penny unaccounted for. Things got worse after my father died in a car crash. A drunk driver hit him head on. He died instantly. My mom didn’t go back to work for two months. A lot of the weight fell on me. I started working part-time at a drive-thru after school. My mom still expected me to get good grades, so I joined the Mathletes Club, too. By my senior year, I was president of the Mathletes and a National Merit Scholar. I wanted to go to an Ivy League university more than anything, hoping one of them would give me a scholarship. One of them did. I got my acceptance letter to Yale in the mail. They gave me a small scholarship, but it was better than nothing. I decided to go, knowing the pressure I’d face once I g
ot there. I couldn’t let my mother or myself down.
I met Brian Atherton second semester sophomore year. I took a statistics course required for my major. I guess it was a required course for the Political Science major; that’s what Brian was. Our professor was the hardest I’d had yet. He barely curved the exams. Luckily, I set the curve on all of them. I always got the top score, much to the dismay of the other students. But for every one of my As, there had to be one failure. That was Brian. He didn’t let on that he was the worst student in the class, but it isn’t hard to tell when someone does horribly on an exam. You can pretend not to care all you want with your friends, but you can’t escape the deep fear in your eyes after failing your third exam in a row.
He approached me after class one day. He said he liked my glasses—an obvious lie. He introduced himself, wasting no time laying on the charm. I tried not to let it get to me, but there’s only so much you can do when the richest guy at Yale tells you he likes your glasses. By the end of our conversation, I learned he was graduating in a few weeks and didn’t think he’d pass the class we had together. He said his fraternity brothers were no help; whenever he asked them for help, they handed him a beer instead.
“That sounds hard,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“You see, I was thinking it didn’t have to be so hard,” he said, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear, “if you could help me.”
My heart leapt into my throat at his touch. “Like, tutor you?”
He nodded. “I can pay you fifteen dollars an hour.”
“I don’t know, I’m already working at the library three days a week and on the weekends. And I have all of my work to do, too.”
“What if I paid you twenty-five an hour?”
I bit my lip. I really shouldn’t take on anything else. I hadn’t even mentioned to him that I participated in the Math Department’s Student Board, or that I visited my mom whenever I could. But that was a lot of money, and he needed the help.
“Yeah, okay, I can help you.”
He smiled, and I melted a little. “Awesome, thank you so much. Can you meet Tuesday and Thursday at six? My frat has chapter right before that.”
“That’s perfect. We can meet in the library—”
“Ah, can we go to your room instead?” he asked, suddenly turning pink. “This is all kinda embarrassing for me. I don’t want anyone to know I’m getting tutored.”
“Okay, that should still be fine. My roommate has a night class until eight those days, so we can do it from six to eight.”
He thanked me, smiling, and headed off with his friends. Little did I know what I got myself into.
Chapter Two
Tuesday came quickly. I double-checked my outfit in the mirror as he knocked on the door. I tried to avoid my endless supply of sweatshirts, going for a V-neck t-shirt instead. It wasn’t fancy, but at least a step above what I normally wore. We got started as soon as he sat down. I told him to bring his exams with him so we could go over everything he missed. One glance at the paper told me there wasn’t much he understood. Unfortunately for him, statistics builds on previous knowledge, so if you don’t have the basics down, you’re screwed. By the looks of it, he was beyond screwed. I told him it was practically impossible for him to pass and that he should withdraw and pick up a quarter credit before they stopped being offered.
“I can’t,” he said.
“Why not?”
“I’ve already dropped this class twice. It’s a requirement for my major. If I don’t pass, I don’t graduate. My dad already has a job lined up for me at the French embassy, and I need a B.A. in Political Science to get it.”
“I thought you had to take some sort of exam in Foreign Affairs for that?”
He smiled, smug, and puffed out his chest. “My dad’s a Democratic Rep in Congress. My score doesn’t matter as long as I have a degree.”
“Well, do you at least know French?”
“We vacation there all the time, I’m sure I already know enough to get by.”
It took everything in me not to roll my eyes. If this jerk wanted to waste his time and lose twenty-five dollars an hour doing it, that was fine by me. His stupidity is my profit. He left at eight, as agreed, without any more understanding of statistics than he came in with.
By our fourth session, Brian started to get the basics. After hours of drilling formulas into his head, he finally understood what we covered in the first two class periods. At the pace he was learning, I still didn’t think he would pass. I suggested we meet more than twice a week, offering up my afternoons on the weekends after I got off work.
“Can we do every other weekend? I visit my fiancée at Duke on some Saturdays.”
“Sure, just let me know which weekends you’re going.”
Lucky for me, it was time to remove my braces before our next session. Finally, my mouth wasn’t full of metal. He immediately noticed, saying I had a pretty smile. I hated that it gave me butterflies. We got on with the session as normal; I could tell he’d been studying on his own. He improved leaps and bounds since the last time I saw him.
At the end of the session, he put his hand on my shoulder and thanked me for everything. I had to admit it was sweet of him. He was still a brat, but at least he owed credit where it was due. And his smile still made my heart melt. There was something about him that excited me in a way I’d never known. He was the first guy to really talk to me for more than five minutes, even if it was about statistics. My feelings for him entered foggy territory.
A few paychecks from Brian later, and I got myself contacts. My optometrist helped me put them in the first time, noting how pretty my eyes were. He snapped his fingers, rummaging through his drawer to find another box. Pulling out the tray of lenses, he said, “You should get green ones. They’ll really make your eyes pop.”
He put them in, then held up a mirror. He was right. My eyes practically jumped out of my skull. Against my pale skin and red hair, the green lenses tied everything together. I’d never seen myself look that beautiful before. Smiling from ear to ear, I thanked him. I couldn’t wait until Brian saw me.
Just before six, I pulled out a tank top and mini skirt from my roommate’s closet. She wouldn’t mind, berating me daily for my poor fashion choices. I looked in the mirror. The woman staring back at me was one I barely recognized. The tank top hugged my waistline, highlighting my hourglass figure and flat tummy. I turned around; the mini skirt truly was mini. Underneath the hem, you could see the roundness of my behind poking out. If I bent over, everyone would get a free show. Luckily, I bought my first thong in case that happened while Brian was over.
Brian knocked on the door. A sudden wave of anxiety hit me. What was I doing? I couldn’t tutor him looking like this, we’d get nothing done. I threw my sweatshirt over the tank top, unable to do anything about the skirt in less than a minute.
“Shelley?”
“Yeah, hi, it’s me.” I quickly backed up to let him inside, hoping he wouldn’t dwell on my new look.
He entered slowly, jaw slightly agape. “Wow.”
I blushed. “Wow what?”
“Nothing, I just never realized how beautiful you were.”
I got redder and bit my bottom lip. Attention never suited me well. I felt warm tears forming in my eyes. I turned away so he wouldn’t see.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m just bad with attention. I’m fine.”
His hand rested on my shoulder. I turned back. He wiped a tear from my cheek, then leaned in and kissed me. My knees felt weak as his tongue slid into my mouth. I couldn’t believe my first kiss was with Brian Atherton. I could have passed out. As if by magic, we were next to the bed, and he pushed me onto it softly. He got on top of me, his hands moving underneath my sweatshirt.
“Why are you wearing this?” he asked with a giggle.
I blushed. “I don’t know.”
In one swift motion, he pulled it off. “This is more like it.”
H
is hands went under my tank top, massaging my breasts over my bra. I let out sighs as he did. Then, he made his way under bra, rubbing my hard nipples. They were so firm, they hurt, but I liked it. I’d never felt such an intense sensation before. He unfastened my bra, pulling my shirt over my perky breasts. I shivered, feeling a wetness in my panties. Glad of my choice in underwear, I started to wrap my legs around his waist. His head moved to my chest, taking one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking gently. I gasped, my legs closing tighter around him. I pressed his head into my breast, guiding him to my other nipple. I felt his hands travel under my skirt, gripping my lush behind before prodding my soaked thong with his finger. I moaned, involuntarily spreading my legs. He pulled aside the thong, sliding a finger into me.
“Wait,” I said, closing my legs. “Can we go slower?”
He nodded, removing his hand and moving it back to my nipple. We kissed some more, then he brought my hand to his bulge. I gripped it over his jeans, marveling at its size. I unzipped his zipper, taking it in my hands. It was smoother than I thought it would be, and much harder. I could feel every pulse. Brian had moved down my stomach, kissing as he went. He licked my navel before pulling on my underwear with his teeth. I grabbed the sides of his head and pulled him to my face.
Gay Dads- All His Son's Friends Page 41
