Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. Reproduction for profit is forbidden. Any distribution must include this note and the author's email address. Dont be caught attempting to make a buck off me!
Warnings and disclaimers:
This is adult entertainment! Be warned! If youre not into graphic depictions of sex, this is the wrong story for you! If youre too young to be legally reading this, move along!
This is a work of fiction. It is not intended to reflect any particular person or persons, and the incidents portrayed exist in their current form solely in the writers imagination. You get the idea.
Content: MF MFM D/s FF oral
That was Thursday. Friday night, we went to the movies. No, I DON'T remember what the flick was - I spent most of it mapping Irma's neck and right ear with my lips and tongue, and everything ELSE in reach with my hands! You could ask her, but I don't think she remembers, either. We didn't actually have sex (dammit) - I went along (reluctantly) with the idea that we were doing dates one and two out of order. Sunday was Irma's twentieth birthday party (I spent half of Saturday combing the mall for that gift that said just the right thing - and fucked it up. No, don't ask - but she forgave me, anyway). After the party, her mama almost caught us fucking in her bedroom. I managed to get my pants up and zipped, but we were both pretty mussed up, and Mama decided that maybe I shouldn't be in Irma's room...
Monday sucked - I had to work late. So did Tuesday, despite two hours on the phone.
Wednesday, Vickie came by. I let her in, and listened to a sob story how she'd discovered her live-in (one Ted), had been salivating over the idea of a threesome, and was now pissed at her and wanted her out so he could bring in some redhead. Then she started getting all cow-eyed and made a run at me. I wasn't Irma-proof, but she'd made me decidedly Vickie-proof; I was busy calling her six kinds of whore when a knock sounded on the door.
Oscar was standing there. He glared at me and grunted, "Somebody parked a Pontiac in my space! The chink sez you got some blonde cunt up here visiting ya. Izzit hers? I'm gonna run the fuck over it!"
I stepped back and waved Oscar in. Oscar was a big fucker, and regularly truculent, for reasons I could certainly sympathize with. Next to Oscar, I was a polished diplomat. It took a special kind of woman - one in short supply - to appreciate his stellar qualities. And when you're walking around with full balls the size of navel oranges rubbing on each other between your legs... Okay, I'm exaggerating, a little, but YOU get the idea... "Vickie, this is my esteemed friend and neighbor, Oscar the Grouch. As you may have realized by now, he's kind of direct..." Oscar ran his eyes up and down over Vickie, and he licked his lips. Vickie blushed like a fire hydrant, and my brain lit up like a Christmas tree. Vickie wasn't really that hard to look at, as I may have mentioned. It's just that I knew instantly, on sight, that I didn't want to have to put up with the inevitable rash of shit that would come with her pussy. Oscar, on the other hand, could be as impervious as a brick wall... "Oscar, this is Vickie. She's the girlfriend of my current lady..."
"Huh! You gotta lady? Sumpthin' weird happen while I was asleep?"
I passed Oscar's comment off - I had other fish to fry. I continued the introduction, "Unlike us, Vickie is a real Mistress of the social graces. Unfortunately, she thinks the rules don't apply to her."
"Oh?" Oscar eyed Vickie with some interest, while Vickie eyed me in some irritation.
I continued, things going my way. "Yeah. She can be a real true-blue friend - she came up here with her girlfriend the other night to make sure I wasn't Jack the Ripper, and stayed for the whole show - but she slips up sometimes, and suffers lapses."
"Mike..." Vickie made an effort to sound dangerous. Oscar sounds rough, but he's not stupid at all - he's an electrical engineer. He just stood there, with one eyebrow quirked.
"For instance," I continued, "She's living in with some silver-tongued but needle-dicked individual named Ted. Having observed Irma and I exercising our love muscles, she's realized just how short he is, on both counts. Since he was apparently hanging onto her in the hopes of dragging my lady in for a threesome, he got pissy, and she's on the brink of being homeless."
"Ya don't say!" Oscar turned a considering glance on Vickie, and she got that look of outraged dignity that women get when caught with their panties around their ankles. "So, tell me, what WAS 'the whole show?"
I buffed my fingernails and examined the result. "My lady was generous enough to vend me her cherry on that couch over there. As you can imagine, I'm disinclined to be parted with her."
"An' this one watched?" Oscar rumbled, looking distinctly predatory. Vickie blushed. She already made some preparations for seduction; the tube top she was wearing did a poor job of hiding taut nipples, or the bellybutton beneath, and the miniskirt was painted on. Oscar began to get the idea. "How is this a lapse?"
"Well, its all part of a pattern - hang with me a sec. Yeah, she watched, although the urge to participate overcame her in the final stages."
"You had it, then?" Oscar interjected. Vickie was visibly measuring inches and angles, but Oscar was between her and the door, and his reach almost extended to her NOW.
"No," I replied, "If a lady is kind enough to consent to sex with me, I usually figure she's worth my full attention. This one's kind of omnivorous, though - she settled for helping my lady friend over the humps."
"Mike!" Vickie howled, "Dammit, I'm..."
Oscar reached out lazily with one hand, there was this kind of a flick and spin, and Vickie was parked against his right hip, with his left hand over her mouth. She started waving her arms and got red in the face, but very little sound came out. "Quiet, you! We're still discussin' what y'are! I see what’cha mean about her manners," Oscar observed, turning his attention to me.
Next she tried to bite him, and he just calmly trapped her nose between his thumb and forefinger. "You can lick, but not bite," Oscar observed, calmly, "or breathin' can get a mite difficult..." Next she telegraphed a kick, but Oscar's hand was on her belly. I think the move he used is called 'the Claw' in wrestling; certainly, only strong people can do it. Oscar murmured, "Nice abs," and Vickie doubled over, the offending leg coming up.
This expose produced the final damning evidence of her duplicity, and I was quick to point it out, disgusted. "Damn, Oscar, she isn't wearing any panties!" I shook my head. "It's all part of the pattern, I'm afraid. That IS her car in your parking space, for instance - after I went to some lengths the other night to point out to her that you wouldn't be pleased." Vickie's chicken flapping was starting to get weak, between Oscar's hand on her mouth and nose, and his fingers paralyzing her diaphragm. "You should lick, Vickie," I observed, "Then I recommend you hold real still while Oscar and I finish talking about you - it's really in your best interest." Oscar grinned, and I knew a wet tongue was caressing the insides of his fingers. Fairly quickly, Vickie started getting air, wheezing through Oscar's fingers. "Like I said," I continued, "she's back and forth, and she kind of tramples on people when it suits her needs. But the thing that I just can't condone - the thing that pisses me off - is what she's up to today!"
"That bein'?" Oscar asked. Vickie's eyes got huge, but she was still recovering.
"She came over here to schmooze her way into my bed and cut in on her best girlfriend!" I replied, irate. "The little bitch needs a new place to live, and a source of real dick, and she was trying to cut out her best friend to get it!"
"Ewwww," Oscar observed, as calmly as I'd ever heard him. "That's bad. That true, Vickie? The evidence is pretty strong..." He let go of her belly, but apparently only to bury his hand between her legs. "You can nod, Honey. Tell the truth, now." Vickie just stood there for a second, with this scandalized look on her face while Oscar's fingers wandered over her crotch, then her shoulders drooped, and she nodded, 'Yes'.
"Oscar, I'd appreciate it if you'd kinda take Vickie under your wing - you know, fuck her, give her a second opinion when she's trying to figure out right from wrong, that kind of thing." Vickie's eyes bugged, but she wasn't doing sound yet. "I figure she owes you rent for the parking spot, anyway. I have to go get Irma for our date tonight, and I'd hate to have to relate this incident to her... You understand, Vickie? Capisce?" Butter wouldn't melt in my mouth...
Vickie raised a finger, and Oscar peeled back his fingers - but he had her nose. "Mike? You wouldn't, would you? You aren't seriously encouraging me to have sex with this Neanderthal?"
The hand closed over her mouth, and discussion stopped. "You're gonna have to suck the finger, this time," Oscar observed calmly.
I was kind of amazed - this was the calmest I'd ever seen him. "I'm serious, Hon. I think you two will be good for one another. For one thing, Oscar's got a serious weapon there," I nodded at his crotch, "and the will to use it. You take a few rounds from that gun and it'll make him all around much more pleasant to deal with - and you won't lose by it, either. You can try to teach him manners, and kind of act as his interface with the real world, while he keeps you on the straight and narrow. What do you say?"
"Hmmmm," Oscar rumbled, "I think she's lookin' for a finger to suck..." I watched his middle finger reposition. "Don't bite, or you just don't wanna know..."
She sucked for a second or two, and Oscar opened up. After a few seconds, I asked "Well?" and got a muffled ''Kay" from her. I think it might have been driven by the discovery that Oscar's middle finger was apparently the size of this Ted's dick.
Oscar kind of stood there, grinning, and I knew she was still sucking. "I think I'm gonna do this favor for ya, Mike," he rumbled. "Might be some gen'ral benefit in it." He did some kind of flick at Vickie's waist, and she spun out of his grip - but before she got control, he stooped, heaved, and she was over his shoulder, going "Ooof!" and I was standing there, looking at her bare ass. Oscar acted like such things happened all the time; he continued with, "So this new girl of yours actually gave you her cherry?"
"Yep," I nodded, "I'm trying to decide whether to have the couch cleaned, or preserve it for posterity." We wandered over to the couch and Oscar examined the leftovers, like Vickie weighed nothing.
She struggled up and gave out with an outraged, "Hey!", but Oscar popped her on the ass once with his open hand and said, "Quiet, woman! Man talk!" and she subsided, initially from being bug-eyed from shock (and maybe pain - he left a red mark). After that, though, the finger he was dragging through her pussy lips seemed to be a pacifier - that and the finger I waved to remind her she had obligations.
We stood around discussing how fine women were - in their place - until I glanced at my watch and announced, "Got to go and pick up Irma, Man. You got this?" Oscar nodded, grinning. I went around to where Vickie was bracing herself on Oscar's back, "You be a good girl, now - or else!" We got organized, and I led us out of the apartment, then stopped to watch Vickie disappear down the hall, clutching her purse, still hanging over Oscar's shoulder.
I collected Irma at her house. Mama gave me the eye, but seemed generally civil. We went out for Italian, then back to my place. I popped open the door, and was wondering how hard it was going to be to get Irma out of her panties when she took my hand and led me to the bed, putting an end to THAT worry. When it became apparent that she wasn't going to stand on ceremony, I helped her out of her dress and started shucking - Hell, I was wearing more than she was! We slid into the bed and I took it easy, being the lover rather than the fucker, kissing and caressing - I wanted her to feel good about being there. But she kept upping the ante - first by reaching for, and then diving on my cock, then by sticking her bush in my face to lick on. Then she hopped up and dropped herself on my rod and started pumping. We ended up with her on her hands and knees, cumming three times while grunting "Go! Go! Go!" as I pounded her doggie style, grinning like a hyena, no mercy asked for or granted.
I was lying collapsed atop her, afterward, working her neck and shoulder with my lips, when a thought occurred to me. "You know, we forgot rubbers again." Irma went still, then turned her head to eye me. "I had Pills - I just wasn't taking them."
"They take a while to take effect, don't they, Hon?" I asked gently.
"Yeah, well, that's why I went to the doctor and got a shot." She motioned that she wanted to roll over, so I got up on my hands and knees and let her. She eyed me anxiously, "I wouldn't try to trap you that way..."
Irma chose to believe I was unconvinced. "No, really!"
"I know," I replied, "Besides, you can't."
She blinked. "I can't?"
"Nope." I tickled her ribs. "The day I plant a baby in your belly is the day I trap YOU, not vice-versa."
"Oh," Irma frowned. "You say the damnedest things."
"You don't understand?" I asked gently.
"No," she replied. "It's like you're saying things backwards. It sounds like..." She shook her head.
I knew what was up, but I let it ride. She had this 'Nobody wants me' thing going on, and anything not perfectly clear, she was blocking. On the other hand, I knew she wasn't going to believe a clear statement from me, so I wasn't making any. But I also knew she'd play fair - undoubtedly, she'd REALLY gotten a contraceptive shot. "Leave it, Hon. It'll all come clear, sometime. Let's neck some more." I went back to work on her, and this time, we built up slowly, then made long, slow love, missionary style.
Relaxing after, I rolled her on top and used her for a blanket, rubbing her back and flanks. "God," she sighed, "Every time, it's just incredible. I don't know how I'm ever gonna do without."
"Me either," I replied, and left it at that. A minute or two later, I noticed my neck was wet. "Okay, Hon, tell me."
"Won't last forever," she whiffled.
"No? You in a hurry to move on?"
"Huh? God, no!"
"Then don't buy trouble," I admonished.
We snoozed and snuggled until midnight, then reluctantly got dressed, and I took her home. Mama was still up; she took one look at Irma, nodded, and let us alone while I kissed her goodnight. I tried to do a good job.
When I got home, Vickie's Pontiac was still in Oscar's parking spot.
It was STILL there when I left for work, Thursday morning. Thursday sucked. I had to work until seven, and Irma had to study for an exam or something. I called her at nine, and we spent an hour and a half on the phone, doing some kind of ESP thing - damn sure, we weren't really saying much. 'I love you' was taboo, but I spent most of the night thinking it - and I knew she did, too. It made it hard to talk. We made a date for Friday night - plans unspecified. Entertainment wasn't an issue; being together was.
By now, you've no doubt noticed a pattern: If a day passed I didn't see Irma, that day sucked. I probably could have won the Lottery, and it wouldn't have changed things. Sex wasn't required - it was DAMN NICE, but it wasn't required - I just needed the feel of her, snuggled up.
When I came home to change Friday night, there was a message on the machine. The fact that I dreaded taking it, for fear it was Irma canceling, should be indicative - but it was Oscar, something unprecedented in itself. "Hey, Man, why don'tcha bring your lady around fer drinks or sumpthin'? I gotta see this woman - she musta had some effect on ya... Mebbe seven thirty? I'll get the help to figger out sumpthin' to gnaw on..." I thought about it a bit while I changed, but decided that exposure to Oscar wouldn't hurt Irma and might help her self-image - so I rang him up and accepted. "Good!" he grunted. "This 'un's got you locked down, ain't she?" I instinctively hemmed and hawed, and Oscar laughed - something unprecedented; it took real humor, usually gallows humor, to get Oscar out of the grumps. Vickie must have drained him, good! "Go ahead!" he grunted, "Lie about it! If ya can, ya poor bastard!" I conceded defeat, and Oscar grunted "'Bout time! See ya at seven thirty!" and hung up. As I pulled out of the parking lot, I noticed that Vickie's car was no longer in Oscar's parking slot - his big Ram pickup was where it was supposed to be. Well, I hadn't expected miracles.
At Irma's, I related the early plan, adding that we could do dinner later. "I'm on display, then?" she asked. Maybe I should wear something different..." She was wearing a skirt and blouse; in fact, I hadn't seen her in pants since that first night, and I wasn't complaining. She had nice calves - Hell, she was good for several inches above the knee before that run of cellulite on her inner thighs started to show - and if her ankles were a little thick, they weren't THAT bad! The nature of current fashion in blouses meant that even relatively demure rigs were too short to tuck in, and that meant you got an occasional flash of midriff. It ALSO meant it was easy to get a hand under there, and get a feel of bare flesh, something I was real happy about!
"No, I don't think so, Hon," I demurred. "You look real good to me..." I forbore to mention that Oscar's preference would probably be for her to be as close to nude as possible. Besides, he could LOOK, not touch! I wasn't REALLY sure of Oscar's tastes in women - lackanookie made us both fairly omnivorous - but I found myself vaguely troubled by the idea that he might be moved to make Irma a better offer...
Irma went over and kissed her mama's cheek, and whispered briefly in her ear; Mama's eyes, which were on me at the time, went momentarily hard, but she nodded. Then she tugged Irma back, and whispered in HER ear. Irma stepped back, stood there a second regarding her mama as if she'd been caught at something, turned to me and said "I'll be back in a second!" and took off like her tail feathers were on fire. I shot a glance at the stair, and looked back at Mama, wondering why I felt that I was in trouble over the exchange.
Mama removed all doubt. "I know what you two are up to," she announced, and settled back to wait. The question didn't need asking; it was lying there, between us.
I sighed. "We've been carefully avoiding words starting with 'L' and 'M'," I related. "Her, because she's afraid to come out with 'em, and me because I know she's not ready to believe me, yet."
"Yet?" Mama echoed, visibly thawing.
I nodded tightly. "Personally, I'm real comfortable with 'L', and I'm working on pronunciations for 'M'."
What about 'S'?" Mama asked, sharply.
I hung my head a bit, but held her eye. "We're past talking about that. We're into practical application."
"Practical application of 'S' leads to unforeseen complications, starting with 'C'!" Mama admonished.
"If THAT happens," I grinned ferally, "she'll have to pull her head out of her ass, because it'll be my excuse to limber up my whole vocabulary, and I won't take words starting with 'N' for an answer!"
Mama's eyes popped, and she took in a breath. I stood there waiting, one eyebrow raised. Finally, she chuckled. "Keep working on her - she REALLY wants to try out 'L'..." She turned and wandered off, and I collapsed into a chair. While I was getting over the shakes, Papa stuck his head in the door and eyed me, looking thoughtful. I waited, but he merely got an eyeful and withdrew.
Moments later, Irma pattered back down the stairs, a gym bag under her arm. "What did you two say to one another?" I wondered aloud.
Irma blushed a bit, "I said 'Don't wait up,' and she said 'Take day clothes.' She knows."
"Yeah," I agreed. "We had a few words while you were upstairs."
Irma looked anxious. "She didn't... press you for any assurances, did she?"
"No," I replied, and left it at that. "Shall we?"
Back at my place, we went up and dropped her bag in my apartment, then wandered down the hall to Oscar's. Irma preened herself nervously, while I related, "Oscar's kind of rough trade - not big on the social graces. Try to take things he says at face value. He tends to come off grumpy, but he's just gruff - and he's a LOT smarter than he talks!"
"Okay," Irma nodded diffidently, and I nibbled at her neck before ringing the bell, to distract her from her nerves.
The door opened fairly quickly, and Oscar stood there, looking fairly genial. His eyes lit as he examined Irma, "Howdy Mike!" He backed up, waving us in, but his eyes never left Irma, and I knew fear. "So, this is your lady! Huh! I'm surprised! You never told me you liked your women to have..." (I could think of a dozen things he might say, none of them particularly complimentary), "a shape to 'em!" I nodded, surprised. I'd expected 'big jugs', or 'suitcases', or 'a chunky ass' - although, frankly, she was pretty nicely presented. "Have a seat. What's your name, Sweet Thang?"
As Irma related it, I looked around. Everything was about per usual - maybe a little neater and cleaner. The layout of his place was virtually identical to mine, if perhaps a bit better furnished. There was an odd pile of boxes over against the wall near the bedroom I didn't remember, but other than that it was just Oscar's place. I led Irma to the couch, and Oscar dropped into the recliner opposite, scratched himself, and said, "So, how long you two been goin' out?"
"About a week," I answered.
Oscar eyed Irma. "Steady thing?"
Irma blushed a bit, "Well, I haven't tried to put a hammerlock on him..."
Oscar looked surprised. "Why not? Mike's horde of loose women scare ya?" At Irma's surprised blink, he rumbled, "Oops! Just funnin' ya! Shouldn't have, either - Mike's been pretty clear about how he feels about ya, an' I just caused ya confusion. Sorry Mike." He looked around. "Shit, I oughta be doin' the host thing. Wanna beer, Mike? I laid in some wine fer yer lady." Then he shocked us both! "Hey, Slut! Where the Hell are ya! Yer supposed ta be keepin' me from steppin' on my dick, here!"
I had about a half-second to get a grip, but it wasn't much help. Vickie came out of the bathroom, wearing, let's see - a hair ribbon, a dog collar, and a smile. "Sorry, Oscar - I had to pee! Hi Irma!" As she turned toward the kitchen, I noticed a pattern of red handprints on her ass, too.
Irma sat there, with her mouth open, then sputtered, "Hi, Vickie!" I rubbed my forehead. I wasn't too sure how I'd look when my hand in THIS was revealed!
Vickie poured wine into two glasses and moved two beers from the fridge to a tray already populated with cheese and crackers, then brought it in and put it on the coffee table. Handing Irma her wine, she replied, "I'm 'Slut' this week - or until Oscar decides on something else."
"Why? When did YOU TWO get together?" Irma blurted.
"Well, 'cause she ain't no lady!" Oscar chuckled. "Mike introduced us Wednesday, an' we kinda hit it off..."
"Well, okay, but this?" Irma's wave took in Vickie's somewhat controversial mode of dress.
"It's, uh, a long story," Vickie murmured. "Oscar's right, though. This is kind of a punishment - I did something bad, and this is how I'm paying for it."
"Say, Os, can you bring me up to date?" I asked, kind of hoping that we could get away from the worst of it.
"C'mere, Slut. Sit on Daddy's lap an' make him happy," Oscar directed. Vickie did just that, apparently without reservation, and Oscar cupped a pink-nippled breast. "Well, after we left your place, Vickie and I had a meeting of the minds. She got stupid a coupla times, and forgot her agreement, but eventually, she came around."
Vickie shook her head, "Once you were out of sight, I figured I could get out of the whole thing. I tried to make a run for it, but Oscar caught me and shucked me out of that outfit in nothing flat. I started running my mouth, and pissed him off, and he paddled my ass! It hurt like Hell, and I was bawling and carrying on, but there was his big poker jabbing me in the belly..."
Oscar chuckled. "I gotta little excited; she's a feisty bitch! Anyway, I just left her there, rubbing on her ass fer a while, an' when she settled down to jus' snifflin', next thing I knew she was rubbin' on my pole! I stuck a finger in her an' she started wigglin' - next thing ya know, she was tryin' ta get my pants off!"
"Vickie?" Irma gasped. "I thought you were, uh, sorta hung up?"
"Um, well," Vickie sighed, "I try to stick to the small stuff, but sometimes I get carried away. Like the night you and Mike went at it the first time - I was hotter than a firecracker, and it didn't go away!"
"What about Ted?" Irma queried.
Vickie looked pissed. Oscar rubbed her back, and she settled down a bit. "Ted is all talk. He hops from girl to girl, talking his trash to get in their pants. Most times, he has to move on pretty quickly, though, because he's both self-centered and not very satisfying, if you know what I mean. I got home that night and discovered that he'd seen how hard up you were, and he figured he could get a threesome with us both. Mike wrecked that, but good, both because he took you out of action and he gave ME a lesson in what I was SUPPOSED to be getting from Ted! By Wednesday, Ted and I were Splitsville."
Oscar grinned. "I let her have what she wanted. We gotta work on her blowjob skills, but she hops up an' down on a cock right energetic-like, an' she seemed pretty happy with the results..."
Vickie grinned from ear to ear. "I came four times! The FIRST time!" Vickie spun on Oscar's lap and leaned back against his chest; I could see she was excited from her face. Oscar was, too - his sweatpants weren't hiding it well. In fact, Vickie was straddling a sizeable bulge! Vickie removed all doubt that she had failed to detect it when she started rubbing it through his sweats. "I NEVER came like that! NEVER!"
Oscar grinned. "We went an' got her shit from ol' Needle Dick last night. I convinced him he oughta call it even with Vickie over the rent, seein' she wuz givin' him pussy. 'Sides, we caught him in bed wit' some redhead." Vickie was getting seriously lurid, rubbing Oscar's erection through his sweats. I looked over at Irma, and she was not unaffected; a hand on her back was very welcome, to judge from her sigh when I slid it under her blouse. She cuddled up a bit, and Oscar returned to his original question, "So, howcum you two haven't shacked up officially?"
Irma looked sad. "I've got no hold on Mike," she sighed. "We're having a lot of fun, but when something better comes along..."
Oscar frowned. "Slut, you're distracting me. Pull it out an' sit on it if ya gotta, but be still fer a minute - I gotta fix this." We all kind of just stopped for a minute, then, because Vickie was suddenly serious entertainment. She proceeded to stand up, turn around, pull Oscar's sweats down around his ankles, spin, grab Oscar's rampant eight incher, and slowly impale herself, settling onto his lap, reverse cowgirl-style. Irma's eyes bulged, and she snuggled up close. Frankly, mine did, too - I'd never seen anything so wild in my life! I moved to cup Irma's right breast, and she raised her arm to make sure I could get at it. Oscar closed his eyes for a second, then opened them, grunting, "Okay, Slut. You've made a spectacle of yourself. Now hold still until we get this thing sorted out - I need my full attention! An' if you go squeezin' that pussy, I'm gonna paddle your ass!" He then turned his regard on Irma, "Girl, I think you underestimate yourself. And I KNOW you underestimate Mike!"
Irma blinked, but demurred, "No, I know how it is. I'm..."
"Well, git it out, Girl!" Oscar growled.
"Okay! I'm ugly! And I'm fat! Satisfied?" Tears rolled. I rubbed her back - I didn't know WHAT to say - besides, I knew better.
Oscar either didn't, or was willing to act as a lightning rod. "I think yer overdoin' it. Okay, so you ain't Helen of Troy, an' you ain't a swimsuit model. Still ya got stuff going for ya. I ain't seen ya nekkid, but I'd be willin' to rate you at, oh, six and a half - that's plenty decent..."
"Six and a half!" I erupted hotly. "Okay, so she isn't scrawny - you can't apply those rules to her body type - it's different! She ISN'T fat - she's real muscular, generally! And she doesn't have your usual narrow babe face, but she's got character! She's at LEAST an eight - and that doesn't cover the intangibles!"
I ran down, and Oscar sat there, grinning. I realized I'd been had, as Oscar turned his grin on Irma. "See?" Wondering green eyes shifted from his to mine, and I grinned sheepishly. Oscar continued, "Does that sound like an objective assessment to you, Girl? An' if it doesn't, what do you figger that means?" The eyes went thoughtful, then widened. Oscar chuckled again, "Yeh, the hook's set. You can start reelin'." Then his voice shifted, "You're wigglin' Slut. Be good!"
Vickie whined, "I'm trying, but... it's sooo hard!"
Oscar chuckled, and Irma used the distraction to break away from the current thought process. "Okay, so maybe things look good for now, but what happens the first time I have to compete with something like that?" She waved at Vickie, who was indeed squirming.
Oscar's grin just got wider. "Mike's already passed THAT test, Girl. You ever wonder what Slut, here, was doin' at Mike's on Wednesday?" His face got hard. "Tell, her, Slut."
"Oh, Os, do I hafta?" Vickie whined.
"Think of it as an exercise in honesty, Slut." Oscar's hand slipped over Vickie's crotch, and the finger rotation left no doubt what he was doing to her clit. "If ya tell her, I'll let ya cum - maybe I'll let ya wear clothes next week. If ya don't, I'm gonna use your ass instead of your pussy fer a week, an' I'm gonna make sure you don' get any joy outta it!"
Slut rolled over, visibly - no surprise, when you were watching her flush get deeper every second. "Okay." Embarrassment added to her blush - and maybe to her arousal. "I-I showed up at Mike's because, well you two had been a revelation! I wanted to fuck Mike in the worst way... I was happy Ted was kicking me out - I didn't try to dissuade him at all - because it gave me an excuse to move in with Mike!"
Measuring green eyes swiveled to mine. "And what happened?" Irma asked her voice hard. I contrived to look mildly irritated.
Slut took up the tale, "There was never even a hesitation. Mike started cussing me and calling me a whore before I was done making the offer! He never touched me! He thought it was the most disgusting thing on Earth, me trying to cut you out! Then Oscar showed up, and to punish me, he gave me to Oscar and made me promise to fuck him or he'd tell you what a sorry bitch I was!"
Oscar chuckled. "Fer the record, I'm guessin' Mike kept his part of the bargain. I didn't make any such, though, an' I can tell you, Slut's stock was pretty low when I got there. He ain't never given me a woman before, either."
"And Oscar's still holding you here, punishing you?" Irma wanted to know.
"No. Yes. Well, sort of. We're beyond that, but... Oh PLEEEZE, Daddy, can I move? Oh, Gawd!" Slut's urgency was more than apparent.
"Oh, all right," Oscar rumbled, chuckling. "I ain't got no hold on her for blackmail any more, but fact is, she LIKES bein' punished. An' she likes this..." Oscar nodded to where Slut was working her way up and down his pole. "Since I like doin' both, we make a pretty good match... I wanna thank ya, Mike, fer yer insight. I got plans fer Slut, here - but lettin' her go ain't among 'em. Now, if you'll excuse me..." With that, Oscar ran his arms under Vickie's thighs, locked wrists - and stood up! His next comments were panted around his effort as he began applying the power that drove their mating, "Slut... I'm gonna... spank yer ass... I'm sure... this ain't... sociable..."
I was seriously impressed, and, bless her heart, so was Irma! "Can we, uh watch?" she husked.
Oscar had kind of dismissed us - he had quite a bit to handle. "Huh?" Then he grinned, carnivorously, his comments still broken up by his efforts. "Okay - but you gotta... pay admission! Mike an' I are... disagreed... about yer looks. But he's seen... all o' ya... an' I ain't! You wanna watch... get nekkid!" he wheezed.
Irma glanced at me and I shrugged - it seemed fair. Watching me for a reaction, she went to work on the buttons of her blouse. I just smiled gently. She leaned away a bit to get her arm out of the sleeve, and I practiced my one-handed pop of her bra strap. Irma stood up and muttered, "Mike, get the zipper, will you?" I did, and she stood up - and I got a surprise! Irma wasn't wearing pantyhose - she was wearing stockings and a garter - and no panties! The things THAT did for her...
My eyes bulged - and so did Oscar's! But he had other fish to fry... "One a' ya... diddle Slut's... clit for me... willya? Can't... do this... all night..."
"Go ahead, Mike," Irma chuckled, her eyes reflecting a newly proprietary gleam, "I can trust you, can't I?"
"Yeah," I agreed. "If I'd have told you, though, it'd have been a waste of good oxygen." I got up and walked around the coffee table. Oscar rotated so that I had direct access, and I slid my hand into Vickie's furry bush - which was much more of a dishwater blonde shade than the stuff on her head (no surprise) - and started working a decently findable clit between thumb and forefinger.
Irma came around to watch up close, standing on my left and giving me a nice asscheek to rest my hand on. "I can remove the stockings," she offered, diffidently, to Oscar.
"Eh?" Oscar was having serious problems splitting his attention, but I knew he'd taken it all in. "No... Much more... effective... Slut... you can... learn things... from this 'un..."
But Vickie wasn't hearing anything - I could tell! The look on her face said her attention was ONE place! And it, well... "Daddyyyyyy!" she howled, "I'm gonna....EEEEEEEEE!!!!!" Her eyes bulged and her legs shot out in this frog-kick that might have gotten her killed if she'd impacted the coffee table. Fortunately, she dropped right into Irma's and my arms. We flapped a bit, but ended up with our hands clasped above and below Vickie's tits while she drove herself back to Oscar on legs now wrapped around his waist, grunting "Uuuuh! Uuuuh! Uuuuh!" From the look on her face, having her nose near Irma's damp muff had the same effect on her as it had on me...
Oscar, relieved of the requirement to support Vickie's full weight, went to town to get his, making like a jackhammer with his hands on Vickie's waist. Vickie convulsed again, just as Oscar let out a strained grunt, grabbed both of her shoulders, and pinned her to him, and Irma and I watched his ass cheeks clench. About twenty seconds later, Oscar's knees began to buckle, so we helped the pair get back into the chair.
Irma turned smoky eyes on me and said, "Mike?"
I'd learned over the last week that Irma had three characteristic levels of response. Level one was happy sexy - Irma would snuggle up, kiss, and generally feel wonderful. This was more or less Irma's base condition - and if you think I was unhappy about THAT, guess again! Level two was romantic sexy - this was bedtime touch and caress, murmur sweet nothings, and slow, gentle sex. We were transitioning from Level One to Level Two when mama caught us after her birthday party - or we'd never have been able to get ourselves even partially under cover. You see, Level Three was best characterized as "I wanna fuck, NOW!" If Irma had any limitations, I hadn't found them; when she got in that mode, she wanted it hard, fast, and the more the better! And she didn't do One, Two, Three - the pattern thus far had been One, Three, Two - the gentle stuff came AFTER no-holds-barred, sweaty sex!
That tone told me that hot, in-your-face sex had brought Irma straight to Level Three, so I didn't bother to ask "What?" - I went straight to "How?"
"Ummm, over the couch arm? Like Wednesday night?" She stepped up and rubbed those big tits on me, and I started shucking out of my shirt. Arms around my neck slowed me down, but, ah, those lips... Somehow, I managed to keep working, sliding my Dockers down and kicking off my shoes.
We turned to the couch, hand in hand, and Oscar started surging out of the chair. "Here, use the recliner! I gotta idea! Up, Slut!" Vickie had no choice; she was a couple of feet away before her feet hit the floor. Oscar stood up and rocked it back into a reclined position with his hand. Irma kissed me hotly, and draped herself over the chair arm, and the sense of the whole thing was immediately apparent - she was able to brace her upper body with her arms on the opposite arm.
There is something about a woman kneeling with her ass in the air, giving you that 'I'm a bitch - fuck me!' look over her shoulder... She winced a bit, being seriously tight and not THAT wet, but after a couple of partial strokes, I was in and driving and she was pushing back to meet me, purring. Vickie wandered over and stood there, rubbing Irma's back, and said, "See? They're hot!"
Oscar wandered up and grunted "Yeah. Nice tits." He glanced up at me, "May I?"
I hesitated momentarily, then figured 'What the Hell..' I was just opening my mouth to ask Irma when she gasped, "Sure!" I grinned and shrugged. Oscar reached in and hefted them and Irma gasped, "Sorry... Kinda baggy..."
I leaned over to watch Oscar work Irma's nipples between his fingers as he demurred, "Well, they're nice sized - D cup?"
"Uh huh," Irma gasped, "36D."
"Nice nips, too," Oscar offered. They are, too - they're browner than say, Vickie's, but they have a size to them. If I didn't know better, I'd say Irma had given suck to a couple of babies - they're thick, and substantial, and sit on pretty good-sizes areoles that crinkle up tight and add to their bulk. Oscar locked eyes with me and announced, "Nipple rings." I grinned. The idea was not without interest... Oscar got both of Irma's nipples nice and firm, then rose and circled around to take in the action from behind. "Slut's right," he observed, "Y'all are tearing it up!" I had a good grip on Irma's generous hips and was hard at it, listening to the crooning moans Irma was making as she built to her first cum. "Nice ass. You had it, yet?"
"Uh... uh," I pushed out over a couple of strokes.
Again, I hesitated, looking for a polite way to indicate that it was up to my lady - I figure if you want to see her pussy ever again, you don't pop a woman's ass unannounced - and again Irma answered the question. Turning to face Oscar, she nonetheless favored me with a Mona Lisa smile and grunted,"Uh huh! Maybe tonight!"
Oscar grinned from ear to ear. "You're right, Man, that's a lotta woman! Slut! Drape yourself over the chair back the opposite way, an' you two can each watch the other take it!" Vickie obediently draped herself next to Irma, facing toward me, and Oscar went to work on her. The visual stimulus brought Irma off in less than a minute; she threw her head back and screamed, "Oh!! Mike!! Gimmeee!!" and threw herself back to me so hard I almost fell down, so I concentrated on remaining anchored and balanced and substituted a couple of fingers on her clit for long-stroking, since she was driving... Initially, I thought I was going to get past her and be okay to start a second run, but, well, I'm not sure WHAT she did - it seemed to involve rubbing the head of my cock all over her cervix - just as it seemed like she was starting to come down, my cock surged, and I couldn't control it to save my life! With the first shot, her pussy started that wringer action again, and I must've poured out a pint. Somewhere in the middle of that, Vickie, red-faced, let out a howl and her eyes rolled up - I guess we were too much for her. I draped myself over Irma's back, rubbing her flanks and cupping her jugs, and she murmured, "Love, move it around a bit - slow - let's enjoy the aftermath..." so I rose up a bit and worked it with some slow in and out action - not really strokes - giving both of us the benefit of our post- orgasmic over-sensitivity. "Sloooow... Oh, shit, that's good!" Irma crooned, pulling my right hand away from her tit and tickling the palm with a wet- tongued kiss. After a minute, she reached back and stopped me by placing a hand on my thigh and we just lay there a bit, watching Oscar pound the shit out of Vickie.
After a bit, Oscar eyed me and asked, "So, all done then?"
I laughed, "No, just watching the floor show."
"Yeh, sure!" Oscar wheezed, disbelief clear on his features.
The demurral came from an odd source - a barely recovered Vickie! "I dunno,” she wheezed, "He still looks pretty stiff to me!"
Fact was, Irma had been playing games, clenching her internal muscles around my embedded rod, and I hadn't even THOUGHT about getting soft! She eyed me saucily over her shoulder and murmured, "Go ahead, Mike, remove all doubt!" As I unsheathed a full hard-on from her pussy, Irma continued, "Let's move to the rug - I want you to bash my pubic bone for a while!"
I lurched up and Vickie went cross-eyed at my cock wagging in her face, causing Irma to giggle as she got up and detected it. Vickie's tongue- tip swept over her lips and Irma cautioned, "Uh uh! Mine! Not without permission!" Irma went flat on her back next to the chair, perpendicular to the action so they could both get an eyeful, and I snatched a pillow off the couch for her to put under her. She stuck it under her hips, rather than her head, and I had second thoughts, so I snatched both seat cushions and made her more comfortable. Irma got up while I organized the cushions, then threw herself down, grabbed her knees and "C'mon, Mike, make Vickie jealous!"
I knelt up and socketed my cock in Irma's wet quim and she let go of her knees, leaving her legs draped over my forearms, and started rubbing my neck and shoulders, working down to my ribs and cooing. I set a good pace, but didn't try to kill rats - I wanted her to see the happy place twice before I did, if possible. I locked eyes with her and absorbed the sound of the happy "Ummm..." she made every time I ground my pubic bone into her clit, while trying NOT to let it lead ME over the hill, too!
Somewhere in there, Slut went real red in the face and squealed, "Oooooo Daddy! Now! Now! Now! NOW!" and went ape-shit to the sound of some seriously hard pistoning smacks as Oscar laid into her. She was still thrashing when he pinned her to the chair with a hand in the middle of her back and started to grunt rhythmically. Then he rolled her over, wedging her between the seat back and the arms, so he could drape himself over them to watch us.
Oscar watched us a bit, grinning, but I was in a poor position to track him, anyway; I went back to concentrating on Irma. After a bit, he started ruminating, "Ya know, Mike, I hafta apologize - I underestimated ya. An' I SERIOUSLY underestimated Irma!" Irma's eyes swiveled to track him, and he continued, "You're right about her rating, too! Girl, there's more'n one type of woman, but they gen'rally fall inta a coupla camps. First type is the one that gits all the publicity - they're long on promise. They look all slick and hot, and they leave ya with the impression that they fuck like a mink - but more often than not, they can't deliver. Slut, here, is a good example." Vickie was behind me - no way I could see her. But I could hear her whine of complaint... "Slut is long on looks - the good thing about her is she's also no slouch in the sack! But its luck of the draw, an', frankly, I gotta be careful - she won't take serious hard abuse." Irma's eyes flicked to Vickie - no guess what went on - and Oscar continued, "There's a second camp, though, and they're damn nice to have. They're the kinda woman ya look at an' say, 'Damn, I bet she can fuck all night!' They're usually built a bit more robust than the others, an' they can take it again an' again, an' come back fer more, grinnin'. You be in that group. I figger Mike's right - the little problems you think ya see ain't shit alongside what ya bring ta the table. Okay, so ya ain't classically shaped - ya got more a' what a man wants than Slut here," I heard a swat and a squeal, "Big titties, a nice ass, an' a pussy that a man can get in to. He's right about ya not bein' fat, either - fat bitches is hard ta get at. An' ya got a lot of moxie! Ya know, I asked yer man, there, if I could feel ya up. an' he stopped to think about it - sumpthin' I might not a' done, and gen'rally considered polite. But YOU said 'Okay', so he let it go. Then when I started talkin' shit about him fuckin' you in the ass, Ol' Mike seized up again, 'cause ya don' jus' announce yer gonna cornhole a woman if ya got any sense - unless you an' the woman got an understanding." There was another swat and another squeal, and Oscar announced, "By the way, Slut, ya know I'm gonna wear yer ass out, right?"
"Yes, Daddy!" I was damned if I could figure that silly bitch out, but if Vickie liked it...
"Where was I? Oh, yeah. So you ease his load by announcin' that you're gonna up it to him - an' soon! That's moxie! Yer hot, babe!" Oscar rumbled. "But, ya know, I gotta point out sumptihin' here. Ya'll met inna dirty book store, an' ya been fuckin' like minks off an' on fer a week, now, right?" Irma nodded. I thought that was pretty good attention considering the way her ass was moving - I figured she was about thirty seconds out. "So, given the shit I jus' mentioned, you figger Ol' Mike's treatin' ya like some hot-ass slut he picked up to dip his wick inta a coupla times before he dumps her ass an' moves on?"
Irma's green eyes went glassy, and I figured Oscar might as well shut up - she was too far gone for intellectual pursuits. But then they went wide, and swiveled back to mine. I was working too hard to be intellectual, but I knew this was the opportunity, so I puffed, "Yeah... what HE said!"
This had an instant effect: Irma's face went fire-engine red, she squalled, "Oh, Gawd! Mikieeeee!!!" and suddenly, I wasn't driving! Irma was running things from below, rotating that ass of hers up from below in a blur so she could wrap her pussy around my cock! I don't particularly like being called 'Mikie', but the woman was somewhat distracted - I figured we could discuss it later... I held still and gave her a stable platform to drive against while she grunted "Huh! Huh! Huh!" and the milking machine came on, her pussy squeezing the Hell out of my cock. But her wild-ass contortions actually made it more difficult for me to get into a position where I could get the kind of consistent stimulation that would have gotten me off, and I actually picked up some control while she rode out her orgasm. After a bit, she settled down, and I resumed stroking, slowly, while she handled the aftermath. I wasn't kidding myself - she'd probably gotten a ten to fifteen second jump on an orgasm that had been there, anyway; it wasn't as if she'd gotten off through verbal stimulation alone. But Irma grinned up at me, eyes dancing, and trilled, "You say the sweetest things!"
I laughed. "Hell, I haven't even started yet! Oscar was doing all the talking!"
"Well, maybe." Irma pulled my head down for a kiss. "But you seem to say a lot of things WITHOUT talking!"
I shrugged, and picked up the pace. Irma seemed to be past the post- coital oversensitivity thing. "Anybody can waste their breath talking. Actions are supposed to speak louder." I brought things along until I'd reached what seemed to be my standard pace, and watched Irma's eyelids droop in pleasure. She seemed pretty touchy-feely tonight, running her hands over my arms and shoulders, and across my neck. It felt... nice. I was a bit reluctant, but I pulled back and up - I wanted to watch my rod run in and out of her quim. I was driving her thin inner lips inward with every stroke, pulling the hood of her clitoris, and dragging it along the upper surface of my cock; I shifted angles a bit to maximize that contact for her. It sure was a pretty picture!
I looked back up at her and she smiled, lazily. "What'cha diong?"
"Taking it all in," I replied. "Pretty nice."
"Not too fat?" Mild anxiety.
"Wide isn't fat," I declaimed, "Oscar's right - you're made for this!" I reached down and stroked her surprisingly hard belly. "That isn't fat." That worked; it was an acknowledgement she HAD to make.
I stroked her somewhat softer flank, watching her expression change from satiation to urgency as her next cum started to grow on her. I felt it as her hips started to more closely track with my strokes, striving for that peak of sensation. Her areoles, which had momentarily flattened, began to crinkle. I watched as her upper chest began to flush, and her eyes got glassy. "Ooh... Ooh... Ooh..." she murmured, in time to my strokes, then stopped talking as she rocked her head from side to side, the exclamations replaced by hoarse breathing through her nose. The hips picked up, fairly dancing, despite the awkwardness of her exposed position. I lowered myself and started snapping my hips at the end of every stroke; she locked shocked eyes with mine, and we both knew that this was going to be a big one!
Grinning, I delivered the coup de grace. Leaning down next to her ear, I hissed, "I'm gonna paint your insides white! I'm gonna fill you with cum!" That did it! Irma clutched me to her while she began to strain to take in ALL of me, not just my cock, her only sound a breathless whine. Her inner lining clamped down on me and began to pulse, and I knew I was done for; I totally lost it, trying to nail her to the floor with my cock while I blasted and blasted. Somewhere in there, I think we actually merged, for a moment... I know that when I got back to the point of knowing where all of my pieces and parts were, I felt... incomplete.
I shifted positions to allow her to lower her legs, one by one, then collapsed across her. Above and behind me, Oscar rumbled, "Man, that was some exhibition!" Irma just smiled, and I basked in it. You've seen that smile - the one that says you did a good job and she's not thinking about anything else but how she feels, and how you feel in her. On Irma, that smile was just beautiful! I layered myself over her, trying to maximize the feel of her soft curves.
We didn't go to dinner. Instead, Oscar ordered in pizza, and bitched about having to get back into his sweats to answer the door. I saw the little flash behind his eyes when he eyed Vickie just after the doorbell rang, and I knew what it meant - the idea of having Vickie collect the pizzas nude and give the delivery boy a special thank you occurred to him - but he shelved it, visibly. Undoubtedly, it's happened, since, but that night he was still complaining about the quality of Vickie's blowjobs... We played games with the food, Oscar dropping pepperoni on Vickie's nipples, and nipping it off, and me rolling a coupe of those frosted cinnamon ball thingies all over Irma, following it with my tongue to lick up the mess. After we'd put most of it away, Oscar rumbled, "Slut, go over and give Irma a big kiss on her pussy to say you're sorry for bein' a cunt... Make sure she cums!" Vickie started out diffident, but warmed to her work rapidly, and Irma diluted her humiliation by offering to reciprocate, and following through on it. I don't think Oscar liked that; it might explain why he initiated what happened next - kind of as a punishment for Irma, I think...
I was loafing in the chair, watching the girls go at it; Irma was squatted over Vickie in a sixty nine, and from where I sat, I had a head-on view of Irma running her tongue along Vickie's clit, humming from the effects of similar service. She'd already cum once, and Vickie was bouncing on her tongue like she was bouncing around the back of a pickup going cross-country at speed, so knew SHE was close. It was quite a sight, but I was husbanding my strength.
Vickie started going "Mmmmf! Mmmmf! Mmmmf!" and throwing roller- coaster surges, and Oscar got up off the couch and dropped on his knees behind Irma. For a few seconds, it was clear that he'd settled there to stick his cock in Vickie's mouth, but my hackles came up; once Vickie had him good and hard, big hands settled on Irma's hips, and he looked up at me. "Mike?"
The question was clear - the answer, however, was nowhere close to being. But Irma's head had come up when she felt those hands, and when I locked eyes with her, she gave a fractional nod - more an eye-flick than anything else. To Oscar, it probably appeared that I'd made up my mind on my own when I nodded and choked out, "Okay."
There followed a long moment of pipe-fitting - but Oscar's cock wasn't THAT much bigger than mine, and Irma was still wet inside and out; I watched him socket it and start moving, Then lean up and tell Vickie, "Slut, go over and give Mike anything he wants." I sat wondering why I was so incredibly unhappy. I went through this welter of questions - Had she really wanted it? Was she just letting Oscar bang her because she was intimidated by him, or thought I was? Did she want Oscar? And how did I feel about that?
Vickie struggled up, but she was loopy, not having come down properly from her latest cum. I had her sit on the chair arm and lean on me, and I took a pink-nippled breast in my hand - but we both knew it wasn't going any further; from what I could tell, Vickie had cum more tonight than she'd ever managed before, and she was exhausted. And I was distracted...
Irma raised her head, eyes smoky. She was enjoying herself, and I tried to feel good about it, watching her breasts sway to the impacts as Oscar pounded away. Then her eyes changed; God knows what expression was riding my face, but she cocked her head, and suddenly Oscar wasn't there. Oh, he was, and he was pounding away, but... Irma started crawling forward, and Oscar whined, "Hey!" as a backstroke left him outside Irma's box. Irma just turned and looked at him. Then she crawled up to me and resting her forearms on my legs, enveloped my half-hard cock with her mouth. Oscar bellied up and went back to work, and Irma presented her pussy for him to pound, but the sex act going on was her making serious love to my cock with her mouth. She locked eyes with me, and from that moment on, they only left once, while she presented me with something that was more than mere fellatio. The message was clear, very quickly - Oscar was masturbating with her pussy - he didn't own it, and never would; I came first. I relaxed, and the tension fell away as Irma kissed and nibbled, and tongued and sucked, watching me constantly. About five minutes in, Oscar stopped and withdrew, adjusted his position, and bored back in; it became apparent to me that he was setting up to take Irma's ass, and I didn't mask my irritation. Irma just stopped, and turned to look at him again. I don't know what was contained in that look, but Oscar stopped, glanced at me, shrugged, and repositioned again, reseating his cock in Irma's pussy. Irma returned her attention to me. I have no doubt that she saw my irritation with Oscar; she smiled around my cock for the next couple of minutes. She started moving her ass again, and I knew she was giving Oscar some play, and enjoying it - but it seemed like all she did was take her pleasure and transmit it to me. I accepted it, playing with her hair and her ears, caressing her cheeks. This was my third cum in a little over an hour she was working for, and I was no longer fourteen; we weren't looking at ninety seconds. But she took me through the agony and the ecstasy, slowly bringing me to the point where I could do NOTHING BUT cum!
A couple of minutes into this, Oscar seized up, backed off, ran his cock along the crack of Irma's ass a couple of strokes, and shot about a pint of cum all over her back. I smiled, thanking him for not shooting inside her, and Irma grinned again around my cock. I only lasted about another minute and a half; as my nuts started to boil, I gathered myself to back off, but Irma rubbed my thighs and bored in and her eyes told me to relax and release. I did, and her eyes smiled as her tongue tickled the underside of my cock head while it surged and pulsed, trying to find yet another pint of semen to deliver into her waiting mouth. I didn't make anywhere near that volume, but she made sure I knew that she'd swallowed it, anyway.
I pulled her forward and kissed her, deeply - my spunk was a side issue, not worthy of notice. She melted into my arms, and we spent a timeless period dueling tongues, tasting each other's sweetness amidst the salty tang of my leftovers. I came back to Vickie rubbing each of our backs, crooning, "God, you guys are sweet! That was beautiful!"
We left soon after, parting amicably; everybody was wasted. It was maybe ten-thirty, but it felt like midnight, at least. I let us into my place, and Irma shucked out of the open blouse and skirt she'd warn without underclothing for the short trip up the hall before the door was closed. The stockings and garter went next, leaving her nude, and she walked regally to our bed. Somehow, I managed another hard on, watching her. I shucked out of my Dockers - I hadn't bothered with the shirt - went to the kitchen area and collected a couple of Cokes from the fridge, bringing them back and placing them on the night tables before climbing in beside her and shutting off the light. A warm, soft hand collected my erect cock and delivered it to an even warmer, wet place, but we didn't really have sex - we merely put the parts where they belonged and enjoyed the sensations while we kissed and caressed and fondled one another. About - oh, I don't know, thirty minutes in? - I initiated the only conversation we had that night, rising above her and murmuring, "I love you."
"I know," she replied softly, and we were done talking. Sometime later, in the middle of a kiss, Irma drifted off, and I followed her moments after I stopped moving, realizing that if I continued, I'd wake her.
Irma gave me her ass the next morning, insisting, then gazing at me over her shoulder with trusting eyes as I worked to gently bury my cock in her third buttery tunnel. "You have all of my cherries, now, Love," she announced, smiling that satisfied smile after we proved what we'd both known all along - she loved anal sex. "You're the first - you're always first, with me." What could I say to that?
Irma and I are engaged; I replaced that cheap ring on her left ring finger with an expensive one about a month ago, and I've been slowly convincing her that her strong, smooth fingers don't ALL need decoration. We understand one another; Irma has serious needs, as do I, and sometimes we require more than one outlet. But others are friends - they don't share in our basic relationship. We play with Oscar and Vickie regularly, and I've had all of Vickie's holes, just as Oscar has had all of Irma's. I don't know if Oscar is EVER going to let Vickie wear clothes at home - and I don't think she cares. Oscar and I have double-teamed both of the girls (Irma loves that!), and we've watched them enjoy each other, but frankly, I don't see Oscar and I enjoying each other - I might get past homophobia, but I wouldn't hold out any hope for Oscar. And Irma and I have gone out for an occasional dose of 'strange' - usually picking up a stray male, female, or couple from the sex shop where we first met - it's a damned sight easier for a couple than for a guy trolling alone, I can tell you! The only open question is how many babies I'm going to dump in her, and how fast - and I'm going to defer to her on that...
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