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Working Things Out
No sleep comes for me as I lie in bed, hating myself for what I’ve done to those two women. The worst part is that I actually feel good right now, which only makes me feel even worse.
I just wish I had some way of contacting Angela. Hadn’t she told me that there was a way to give energy, rather than take it? How much longer is she going to be gone? If I had a keycard like hers, I’d be able to go to the Shadow World, and ask her. If, if, how, and if: my life has become nothing but questions.
When my alarm goes off in the morning for me to go to work, I’m at first tempted to call in sick, but then I realize that I might be able to get some thinking done while there, and I need to live life normally.
Yeah, right. . . .
Jumping in the shower, I feel a little refreshed, even though I’ve been up for well over twenty-four hours. The drive to work is surprisingly quick. The roads are packed, but somehow I keep finding a spot to slip in, and don’t have to stop even once as I hit every green light. I closely monitor my energy levels, but I don’t notice myself getting weaker at each chance of luck, and wonder if it’s just something else that’s new with my redesigned VW Beatle, the Orange Bubble. I’m not personally changing the lights, or moving people out of the way.
As I’m walking up to the security counter, I reach for my wallet, only to realize it’s not there. Crap! Without my ID, I can’t get in, but where did I. . . DOUBLE crap! I don’t remember having it after last night. I’m tempted to see if it’s still at the club, where it must have fallen out. That was the last place I’d used it. But if I do that, I’ll be late for work, even though I’m early now. Mrs. Lance’ll have my head if I’m late. Again, I’m tempted to just blow this miserable job off. I really don’t need it, since my rent’s covered for the next year, and I’m even getting a refund as well. Why should I put up with the austere Sheila Lance? And since it’s Friday, it feels odd to come in for one day and then take the weekend off.
Because I’ve been told to live my life as normally as I can, and her advice is the only thing I can rely on right now, I think answering my own question.
“Is there a problem, Mr. Snow?” I blink at the question, as it pulls me out of my thoughts. One of the security guards is looking at me waiting for an answer. I actually know her a little bit. When I’d worked in the mailroom, she used to chat with me from time to time, while we were making our rounds. I never learned her first name, and always just thought of her as Guard Lansbury.
“Guard Lansbury,” I say cheerily, giving her my best smile, “How’ve you been?”
She returns the smile, and replies, “Down five pounds, but that’s probably just from the shit I took, about half an hour ago. I haven’t seen you in this early since you were working downstairs.”
Did I mention she’s kind of raunchy? And massively overweight? She almost makes up for it with her huge knockers, but if someone were trying to get away from her, all they’d have to do is walk fast. I feel bad for thinking so lowly of her though; she’s always treated me well.
“Yeah, traffic just seemed to work out for me, but now it seems I went and left my ID at home.” I try to put on my most downtrodden face, hoping that she might just let me through, even though that’s against company policy.
“No ID?” she looks shocked, as if I’d just robbed a bank, instead of forgetting a little identification card. “Well, now, what are we going to do about that?” She pulls out her nightstick, and starts twirling it in her hand. “Sure you didn’t just hide it somewhere? I’d be happy to do a cavity search on you.” Now she’s smiling at me hungrily.
“Thanks, but I’m fairly sure I left it at the club last night,” I hedge, not sure how to respond to her.
“The club, huh? I’ll bet you were dancing with some skinny sluts there too, when you could have had a real woman, like me.” She steps closer to me, and I want to back away, especially as I can feel a slight drain in my energy, and I know that whatever’s been happening to me lately is in effect again. I hold my ground instead. I really don’t want to be late.
“Awe, but you know I couldn’t handle a woman of your caliber,” I say, hoping that she takes it as a compliment.
She steps closer, smiling hungrily now. “But how do you know, if you never try?”
She’s always flirted with me in the past, but never quite this forward. I need to figure out a way to turn my new abilities off, before something happens that I’ll regret.
“Maybe next time. Looks like I need to go get my ID,” I say, and take a step back, towards the door, only to have her hand on my arm stop me.
“I don’t think so,” she tells me, and sudden worry fills me by the tone of her voice. “Mrs. Lance will have your hairy left stone if you’re late. You need to get up there, and I think I know of a way to get you there.”
Part of me is afraid, and the other part hopeful. If she escorts me through, then all is well. If she wants to exact a price. . . .
I follow her to a security door, and she opens it for me with her badge. Just as I’m walking through, she shoves me hard, and I stumble the rest of the way in. The door closing and locking behind me sounds louder than it probably is.
“Of course, I don’t do favors for free. . .” she trails off as I turn to face her. There is an almost carnivorous look in her wild eyes, and her short brown hair frames her lust filled face.
“I thought you didn’t want me to be late,” I say, thinking fast.
“Oh, your bitch of a boss can have your balls when I’m done with them.” She lets that hang there for a moment, and then bursts out laughing. “You should see the look on your face, Lyden. Relax, I ain’t gonna rape you. Just head up those stairs to the second floor, and then you can take the elevator the rest of the way to your floor.”
I can’t help but let out the sigh of relief that escapes me, and I also can’t miss the pain that I see it causes in her eyes. This woman just helped me out, putting her own job in danger for breaking one of the buildings numerous rules, and I’d basically just insulted her. Okay, no ‘basically’ about it. I’d insulted a friend, and hurt her feelings. I may not see her as a sexual prospect, especially right now with me draining whomever I sleep with, but there are other ways to repay a favor.
She turns to walk away, but this time it’s my hand on her arm, stopping her. “Not so fast, Lansbury,” I say in as authoritative voice as I can muster. “You broke one of the security rules, and even though it was to do me a favor, I have to exact payment.”
She turns to look at me, pained confusion in her eyes, and I realize that she really thinks I’m going to turn her in.
“The price for my silence, will be one kiss,” I tell her, and while the pain disappears, the confusion remains in her eyes.
“Mr. Snow, there’s no need. I know what I am, and I won’t put you through that kind of torture,” there is a deep sadness in her tone, and my heart breaks to hear it.
“I didn’t say I was giving you an option,” I say, and know that I’m acting very different from my normal self, but something inside me says this is right. I then shove her back against a wall, and actually have to bend over her massive chest, to plant my lips on hers. I thought I’d be turned off by the thought of kissing this large woman, but she actually smells rather nice, and it only takes me a couple seconds to realize she’s one helluva kisser. I want to help this woman feel better, and this is the best thing I can come up with.
When the kiss ends, we’re both breathless, and I just leave her there, as I ascend the stairs. I don’t even notice until I’m halfway up, that I feel a little weaker than I did earlier. I remember getting pumped from kissing Becky last night, so why the difference with Lansbury? Is it because she doesn’t have the energy to give? Or did I actually transfer energy to her? If so, how the heck had I done it? Was it because I wanted to help her? Once again, more questions!
Despite the delays in getting to my office, I find I’m the first one there, though Thomas Johnson arrives only a couple minutes after me.
Seeing the older gentleman, I remember how Angela had looked when she’d first come in, and her telling me that her appearance had been in line with his fantasy.
“Lyden!” he exclaims as soon as he sees me. “I see your back on your feet. How are you?”
“A lot better, thanks,” I reply jovially. “I know I usually look for advice from you, but if I can offer some, never run into a light pole. They’re not as soft as they look.”
He laughs at my half-joke saying, “I guess that’s why you got contacts?” He’s referring to my naked face, of course. Angela had somehow fixed my vision, so that I no longer need glasses to see. I just wish she could have done something about my colorblindness.
“Nope! That pole must have fixed my eyes,” I tell him happily, and try not to laugh at his disbelief.
Then I see AnnaBelle Lewis come in, and immediately feel a somber mood enter with her.
“Laughter is the devil’s tool,” the woman says to us seriously, and I see Thomas roll his eyes. Unfortunately, she sits at the desk next to mine, between me and where Mrs. Lance sits. “It’ll corrupt your soul, and He’ll take over.”
“It’s good to see you too, AnnaBelle,” I respond, long since used to her pious views.
“Only our Lord and Savior is good, Mr. Snow. Though I’m gladdened that He has seen fit to grant you your health.” She looks at me sharply then, and I wonder if I have something on my nose. “I sense a dark and dangerous shadow over you,” she says ominously. “What heathen things have you been up to?”
Now, I’ve never been one too much into religion, but if she can sense the changes in me, then there really might be an almighty, and after everything else I’ve learned, I realize I have a lot more to learn. Then again, for some reason her holier-than-thou attitude gets under my skin.
“Oh, not much. Just went to the club last night, banged a babe while her roommate watched, and drove home. But before that I was hitting a punk babe with blue hair and pierced—“
“Mr. Snow, that is quite enough,” Mrs. Lance says right at that moment, walking in.
I can see AnnaBelle glaring at me out of the corner of my eye, as I sheepishly get behind my desk. She really didn’t deserve that treatment, and I feel bad for my actions.
Debbie Jones is the last one to enter, and after sharing that kiss with the large Guard Lansbury, I look at the only slightly chubby coworker in a different light. She’s by no means ugly, but does have some rather nice curves to her. I wonder if she kisses as well as Lansbury?
Debbie gives me a shy smile, and I realize I’ve been staring and try to bury myself in my work. As I continue to compile data from various spreadsheets, I can feel my vitality draining. I also note that both Debbie and Mrs. Lance keep staring at me. The drain isn’t great, but it is noticeable. AnnaBelle studiously ignores me.
‘Blue haired, and pierced, huh?’ A popup says on my desk, and I see it’s a message from Johnson. Smiling, I nod to the older man across from me. ‘Lucky!’ is his next reply.
Guard Lansbury walks in, holding something, and leaves it at Sheila’s desk. The guard gives me a very obvious wink as she walks past my desk. I can literally feel AnnaBelle’s glare against my back.
“Mr. Snow, can I see you up here?” Mrs. Lance states firmly.
Great. . . . Did Sheila see those messages from Thomas?
As I walk up to her, I see my wallet sitting on her desk. How’d that get here? Then I see the look in Sheila’s eyes. . . . Oh, great. Now I’ve really pissed her off.
Wait, maybe this is a good thing. If she gets pissed off at me enough, she’ll fire me, and then I can still claim I was living normally.
“Mind explaining how you got into the building without your wallet, or ID?” she demands of me.
Now’s my chance. Puffing out my chest, I look her dead in the eyes, and say in my most pompous tone, “I walked in through the doors. Is there supposed to be a back door for us flunkies?”
Sheila’s jaw tightens, and I can see she’s shaking from trying to hold in her wrath. I hear a number of gasps from behind me, at my audacity.
“The Devil’s work,” a mumbled voice says, but it can only be AnnaBelle.
My boss gets herself back under control, grabs my wallet, and stands up. “Come with me, please, Mr. Snow.”
I let my smile show at her back, as I follow her out the door and into an unused conference room, far enough away from our office that I’m sure my soon-to-be previous coworkers won’t hear her yelling at me, or anyone else, for that matter.
“Mind explaining yourself in there?” she asks me, her tone level. Her brown eyes are trying to bore into me, and I can feel my energy levels draining.
Just then I get an idea.
I know I shouldn’t, but after putting up with Sheila Lance as a boss for around a year now, I want to get some of my own back. I’m not entirely certain how my ability works, but if I keep myself under control, I shouldn’t hurt her.
At least, I hope I don’t.
Today, she’s wearing a dark suit jacket, over a white button up, and dark flowing pants. Her black hair is tied back in its usual bun, and I can’t help but wonder if the reason she’s always so ornery is because her hair gives her headaches.
“No explanation’s needed,” I tell her, concentrating on her body as I speak and allowing my instincts to take over. I notice a slight shiver run through her. I also notice a depreciable drop in my stamina.
“You’ve been with us for some time now, haven’t you Mr. Snow?” Her voice sounds a little husky now, but I can still see anger smoldering inside her brown eyes.
“I’ve been working. . . under you. . . for a little over a year,” I tell her, concentrating on the innuendo, and sensing her body becoming more receptive to me. Am I becoming a succubus? Is there such a thing as a male succubus? I’ll have to look that up later.
I notice her eyes dilating as she contemplates me, tapping her finger on my wallet. “That still doesn’t excuse your behavior in there.”
Turning my back on my boss, I go and lock the door, then crank up my concentration on Sheila. “I think I know what this is really about,” I tell her, and notice her eyes glazing over. Oops, maybe too much. I back off a little, and just in time, too, as true weariness starts to worm its way in.
She gives herself a shake, before saying, “M—Mr. Snow. What do you think you’re doing?” She tries to protest, as I walk over, and start undoing the buttons on her jacket. She doesn’t try to stop me though, and it only takes a couple seconds to get it off. “This is highly inappropriate,” she tells me, but her voice is barely a whisper, and her eyes are closed.
Continuing to follow my instincts, I harden my voice, and command her, “I don’t allow my slaves to talk, unless spoken to.” Her eyes snap open, and I can see the anger attempt to reassert itself, but by now her shirt is unbuttoned and I tweak one of her nipples through her bra. She shudders again, closing her eyes. “That’s right. I’m going to make you my own little cum slut.”
I’ve never treated a woman like this before, but everything inside me is pushing me to keep going. By the way she’s reacting; I think I might just get away with this.
“But. . . I’m your boss,” she almost whimpers, then moans as I twist her other nipple.
“Hmm, you have a point,” I concede as I slip my hand inside her bra, and gently rub her tender areola. “In front of others, you will continue to be my boss, but when we’re alone, you’d better return to being my submissive slut. I’d recommend, however, that you treat me a little better out there, lest I have to exact harsher punishments from you.” Unsnapping her bra, I finally get a good look at her bare chest, and smile. Her nipples are both hard, and pointing straight out from her chest. Her ample bosom is likely about a C-cup, some part of my mind informs me. “You will find I can be a gentle master, but only to an obedient slave.”
I walk around behind her and marvel that I have this high-and-mighty woman at my whim. Not yet, some part of my subconscious informs me, and I realize that there’s one more formality.
Reaching around her waist, I undo her pants, and gently slide them down her hips. Standing back up, I gently kiss the back of her neck, while lightly running my fingers up and down her arms. Her entire body is shivering now, and not from any cold that might be in this conference room. Slipping my right hand into the front of her black panties, I pinch her outer labia together, and then rub them against each other, eliciting a moan from her. I can feel how hot she is already, and know now is the time to ask my question.
“Are you going to be an obedient slave? Or am I going to need to punish you first?” My voice, whispered directly into her ear seems to spark one last bit of defiance.
“I am your boss, Mr. Snow. I will not be—“ I cut her off by pressing hard against her slit, and painfully tweaking her left nipple again.
“Looks like you will need some training,” I tell her, as she gasps in both pleasure and pain. I walk us over to the massive conference table, and bend her over it.
“What do you think you’re—“
She howls as I spank her, but I know there is still a bit of fight in her, as she resists me pulling her wet panties off.
Her panties are now on the floor, and I can see a red hand print on her left buttocks. Some inner part of me feels bad for this woman, but then I remember all the times she’s chewed me out, or given me impossible deadlines, and slap her other cheek.
I can now smell the unmistakable musk of a woman in heat, and ask, “Are you going to be my obedient slave now?”
She whimpers as she nods, but that’s not good enough.
“Say it, so that there can be no misunderstanding, Sheila Lance.” There is an odd sensation in the air as I use her name, and it actually feels like it settles into my boss.
“Yes! I will be your slave,” she cries out, and I’m thankful that she chose a conference room far from any other offices.
“What else?” I ask, and lift my hand. I have no further intention of spanking her, unless she pushes me to it, but a little motivation won’t hurt.
“I’ll be your obedient little cum slut,” she says hurriedly. “I’ll do whatever you want, whenever you want. Just. . . Just please, master, command your slave. What can your slave do to please her master?”
If I hadn’t already been rock hard, hearing those words would have gotten me there. I bring my hand down, and she flinches, but I don’t strike this time. Instead, I gently rub her red rear. I do this for a couple of seconds, but a weakness in my knees informs me that my energy levels are getting low. It probably doesn’t help that I got no sleep last night, either.
Dropping down behind her, I say, “My slave deserves a reward for being obedient.” Licking her from slit to asshole, I make her moan in further anticipation. Reaching between her legs, I place my right thumb at the nub of her clitoris, and shove my tongue as far into her as I can.
She cums instantly and I feel new strength flood into me. I continue to apply pressure to her clit, while simultaneously throwing up a mental wall, blocking further energy from leaving her. I don’t need too much from her right now. Perhaps if I just sip a little off each orgasm, I won’t really hurt her.
She continues to writhe on the table, moaning loudly, and I realize I’m still pressing hard on her sensitive point. Standing up, I back away from her, and sit down on the largest chair in the room. She quickly turns and looks at me, wondering what I have in mind next. Is that hope in her eyes?
“I want my slave to please herself, while I watch,” I tell her with a smile. “Please me with a good show, and I’ll reward my slave.” I emphasize my words with a grab of my crotch.
Without any hesitation, she jumps onto the edge of the table, and displays her wet pussy to me. She is completely clean-shaven, and I wonder if it’s just coincidence, or if she’d planned on being with someone else tonight?
Regardless, she’s here now, and smiling at me, while she spreads her lips with two fingers, and uses another to rub up and down along her clit.
My cock is straining at my pants, and I pull it out, lightly stroking it. As soon as it pops free, Sheila licks her lips, giving it a hungry stare. She jumps off the table and approaches me, but I stop her.
“Uh-uh. I told you to give me a show, then I’ll reward you.” She pouts for only the merest moment, before turning around, bending over, and slipping two fingers into her wet snatch. Sucking her social finger into her mouth, she lubes it up, before reaching behind her, and slipping it into her anus. “That’s right, slave. Show me how slutty you can be. Get yourself off, and I’ll let you lick my cock.”
She smiles at me between her slender ankles, and starts to go wild on her fingers. Her ample breasts are bouncing in rhythm to her left hand diving in and out of her coochy, while her right finger teases her puckered hole. She continues this until her knees buckle, and she collapses on the floor, quivering and moaning in orgasmic delight.
Once again I feel energy leech away from her, as it flows into me, but I block it after only a little bit, and just enjoy the show.
“It’s time for your reward,” I tell her, standing up, and walking towards her. She’s immediately on her hands and knees, practically begging for my cock.
“Thank you master, for rewarding your slave!” she moans as her hands grip my hips, and pulls me to her.
I tap the head against her forehead, and she impales her mouth along my rod. Her tongue ravishes the underside of my penis, while she strives to get as much of me down her throat as possible. As had happened with Becky last night, somehow she manages to get all of me into her throat. I’m so turned on by everything, that I can already feel my culmination coming, and I grab the back of her head, holding her down on me, as I fire off powerful gobs of my goo directly into her stomach.
Power once again streams into me, and I realize she must be coming again, too, but I don’t have enough spare thought to block any of it, as my own bliss overwhelms me. I’m not sure when it happened, but at some point I come back to the land of reality, and find I’m sitting back in the comfortable chair, with my newly acquired slave still sucking on my now limp prick.
“That was very good, slave,” I tell her, petting the back of her head. “We’d probably better get dressed and back to the office, before anyone begins to wonder.”
I can see she’s disappointed that we won’t be continuing, but she also knows I’m right.
“Don’t let it happen again, Mr. Snow,” my boss tells me as we walk back into our office, and she hands me my wallet.
“Yes, Mrs. Lance,” I try to act humble, but I can still picture her getting off on her own fingers. I can’t wait until I can drive my cock into her pussy, but it will have to wait.
‘Did she ride you hard?’ Thomas sends to me in an IM.
‘You have no idea.’ I respond.
The rest of the afternoon goes by smoothly, other than catching occasional glances from Sheila that are anything but appropriate. Only AnnaBelle seems to notice anything not quite right, but I dismiss her, until she catches me in the elevator.
“A demon has taken over your soul, Mr. Snow,” she tells me in all seriousness. My first thought is to panic. Had she seen Angela when she’d been in the office? Did she know what’d happened with Sheila and me?
Of course, not, I reason. How could she? The overly religious AnnaBelle Lewis would have said something earlier.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I tell her, trying to stay calm.
“Oh, yes you do,” she denies my statement. “I can sense the corruption in your soul. You need to come to my church this Sunday. That’ll set your head back on straight. Reverend Chilton is a great man, and he can help you.”
Before I have a chance to respond, the elevator doors open, and she rushes out. Thankfully I won’t have to deal with her for the entire weekend.
What the hell was that? I wonder. Can she actually sense the changes in me, or is it just her over-zealous religious attitude? I’ve never been very into the whole ‘There must be a higher power than me,’ scene, but I can’t help but wonder after that conversation.
“Lyden,” I hear a familiar voice yell, and I turn in shock to see the last person, or rather, persons, I expected to see standing next to the Orange Bubble. “We waited here all day. Ever since we returned your wallet,” Becky says to me, her long chestnut brown hair tied into a braid and flowing over her left shoulder. In this light, I can finally tell that her eyes are a deep dark brown.
“Why’d you leave in such a rush last night?” Lisa asks immediately after, her blue eyes flashing. “We could have had a lot more fun.”
“How’d you. . .?” I trail off, as I realize that I must have left my wallet at their place, and they would have known where I work from my ID; which means, they also must know where I live from my driver’s license. “Are you ladies feeling alright today?” I ask, worried after having drained them both of so much energy last night.
“Why? You don’t have a disease, do you?” Lisa demands, and I realize how my question might have sounded.
“No, I was just worried,” I respond, lamely.
“Last night was the best sex I’ve ever had,” Becky says next. “I’ve never felt so satisfied afterwards, but the way you took off, had us worried.” The brunette walks up to me, and places the back of her hand on my head before asking, “Are you feeling okay? Is that why you left?”
Having no idea what I’m going to tell them, I just nod. Becky tosses Lisa something, and by the jingle, I realize that it must have been her keys. “Lisa, you follow us. I’m going to ride with him.”
I want to protest, but something inside me stops me. It’s not the same instinct that told me how to deal with Sheila, but something a lot more subtle.
The drive home is thankfully a short one, and with my luck in this car, we soon lose Lisa far behind us. My suspicions about them knowing where I live, are confirmed when Lisa still manages to pull in behind us.
The entire drive, Becky is talking about how worried the two girls had been for me and how happy they are to find out I’m okay. Meanwhile, I’m trying to figure out how my wallet got out of my pants at their place. There hadn’t been any reason to take it out there, and I don’t think Lisa’d gotten close enough to abscond with it while I was screwing her friend. How had it gotten out of my pants?
And why are these two women now attached to me? I guess I can kind of understand with Becky, if I’d been the best lay of her life, but Lisa? It doesn’t make sense. At least I haven’t really hurt either one of them.
When is Angela going to get back with some answers? We’d only been gone from the real world for about half an hour, while spending hours in the Shadow World. She must be spending weeks there.
Or has she abandoned me?
“Who are these two?” I hear the sweet dulcet tones of Brooke’s voice, interrupting my thoughts. My heart drops, as I realize how this must look to the woman who saved my life so many years ago and who I’ve had a massive crush on since I was old enough to be interested in boobs.
* * *
“You really don’t have to explain,” Brooke says to me, for what feels like the hundredth time. “I’m just glad to finally see you with a woman. . . or two. I was beginning to think you were gay.”
“What? NO!” I protest. Why did she have to walk out, just as we were heading up to my apartment?
Brooke saved my life when I was just a little kid, and for some reason has always looked after me. I’d been boating with my family, when the ship must have capsized, dumping us all in the lake. My parent’s bodies were found fairly quickly, but I hadn’t washed up on shore for two whole days. No one could explain how I’d survived for two days, least of all me. What I know now, is mainly due to reading the reports afterwards. I remember almost nothing from that day, or the two following, other than a sense of darkness and fear. Brooke had been the one to find me, and now here she is again, finding me with two women!
“Well I can see that now,” she replies jovially, giving the two women a wink. It’s only then that I realize she’s teasing me. Why am I even letting Becky and Lisa into my apartment anyway? Because some subtle instinct had told me I should? Pshaw! I should have left them back at work! No use now.
Embarrassed I quickly unlock my door, fumbling my keys only twice, and throw the door open, rushing through as if escaping a dangerous beast.
“Was that your girlfriend?” Becky asks me, flipping her braided brown hair over her shoulder.
“No, she just saved my life when we were kids, and we’ve been friends ever since,” I reply with perhaps a little more heat than I mean to.
“Okay, okay, I was just asking,” she says defensively. “She is very pretty though. Wish I had eyes that green.”
“Oh, stop, Becky,” Lisa finally pipes up. “You’re beautiful too. How else did you entice this stud back to your place? I saw how everyone was treating him there, and he chose to walk away with you. Hell, he has that hot body across the hall, and he still brought us up here.”
Wow! If ever I need a cheerleader, Lisa is the one to choose.
“You’re right, Lees,” Becky tells her friend, shortening the Blonde’s name. She turns to me, and places her hand on my chest. “He did bring us up here. Do you think he wants to do vile and dirty things to us?”
I open my mouth to protest that that’s not why I’d brought them up here, but Lisa’s hands come from nowhere to wrap around me, and I hear her say, “I certainly hope so.”
“Now, wait,” I finally find my voice, but before I can say more, Becky’s hand pulls my head down to her level, plants her lips on mine, and I forget what I was about to say. My arms go around the brunette’s short, slender form, and pull her tighter to me, picking her up and deeper into the kiss. I can feel Lisa’s breasts pressed against my back, while her hands unsnap my pants, and dig into my boxers to find my hardening cock.
Moaning into the kiss as Lisa begins rubbing the head of my penis, I set the short woman back down and start working on Becky’s pants. Lust has overtaken me, and I desperately want to rip into these two pretty women. As soon as her pants are on the floor, I break the kiss, and pull up her shirt. She’s wearing a tan bra today, and without hesitation I pull down the left cup and latch onto her nipple, sucking hard, and making her moan.
My pants hit the floor a moment later, and I sense Lisa getting between us as I’m hunched over, and she gently massages my scrotum. “My God, Becky. I still can’t believe you fit this beast down your throat.”
“Mmm, yeah,” Becky moans as her fingers dig into my short hair. “You’ve got to try it. He really does taste great!”
Digging at the snaps of Becky’s bra, I can’t seem to get them undone. It doesn’t help my concentration when I feel Lisa’s warm mouth stretch around my cock, and finally in frustration I pull the whole damned thing up over her head, being careful only of her melons as I do so. The swear word barely even registers in my mind.
I look down and see that Lisa has somehow successfully managed to squash my prick halfway down her gullet.
Becky grabs my attention back, as she hungrily kisses me, and I let my right hand to go to her already wet snatch. My left hand goes to the back of Lisa’s head, to let her know I’m enjoying her ministrations. It doesn’t take me long to find the brown-haired woman’s clit, and I vigorously rub back and forth, making her shudder in pleasure. As soon as I sense her getting close, I slip my middle two fingers into her, crook them, and begin vigorously rubbing the front wall of her vagina. A few seconds later, I’m rewarded for my efforts, as she soaks my hand and the back of Lisa’s head in her squirted fluids. A new wave a pleasurable energy washes into me at the same time, recalling me to what I can now do, and that I need to be careful.
“What the. . .” Lisa asks, releasing my rod, and feeling the back of her head, before turning to look at her friend.
“I—I’ve never. . . never cum like that before,” Becky states breathlessly. “It felt odd, but so intense!”
“I’m jealous!” Lisa pouts, before turning completely around, and locking her lips on her friend’s nether-lips. Becky lies flat on the floor, and Lisa doesn’t let up, making the short woman moan in delight. Lisa’s ass is in the air, her pink pussy lips pointed at me, (When did she take off her pants?), and I figure that’s as good a spot as any to store my penis.
Squatting down behind the hungry woman, I rub the head of my rod against her slit, making her moan into Becky’s pussy and shake her rear in anticipation, before thrusting forward, and slipping into her already soaked coochy. She takes a quarter of my length, before I have to pull back, and dive in again. I can tell that she’s a little looser than Becky, yet she seems to fit like a glove, just like Becky had last night.
“Oh, God,” Lisa cries out, and I see she has two fingers buried in Becky’s vagina. “I can feel you in every corner of my cunt. Fuck me hard with that big stick. Fuck ME!” Her language grates on my nerves, but I do as she asks, driving into her with force, until I feel her little hole clamp down on me hard, and strength flows into me. This time I remember to put up a mental block before taking too much from her.
I continue to pound into her, until she reaches back and puts her hand against my stomach, and pushes me back. I sit on my rump, and grin as I continue to watch the blonde shake in orgasmic bliss.
Suddenly Becky is right there, leering at me. “Good, maybe now she’ll believe me when I say that you’re the best lay in town. Now then, my little cunny is a little too sensitive right now, so we’ll have to use my back door to finish this monster off.” She emphasizes her words with a quick tug on my member, then bends over, and starts cleaning her roommate’s juices from me. Once again, she’s able to take me fully into her throat, and if it hadn’t been for that little escapade with Sheila earlier today, I likely would lose it right now. Instead, I’m able to last while she deposits a liberal amount of saliva on my dick, before turning her back on me, aiming my pole, and impaling her tiny ass on it.
The feeling of her sphincter sliding down my cock is divine, and I lay fully back on the floor, trying not to shoot my load too quickly.
“You made her squirt,” a whisper startles me, “now I want to squirt.” I turn to see Lisa watching my cock slipping in and out of her friend’s anus, as Becky bounces up and down on top of me.
Her little pussy is within easy reach, and I slip my middle two fingers into her freshly screwed hole. Crooking my fingers again, I rub vigorously against her inner front wall, making her moan and hunch her hips against my invading digits.
“Oh shit, it’s been a long time since something in my ass has made me cum!” The brunette cries out a second before her sphincter tightens perceptibly on my dick. I immediately throw up my block against her energy.
“Oh, I feel it,” Lisa starts to moan. “Watching you make her cum, and whatever it is you’re doing is going to make me cum too. Oh, shit, it feels like I've gotta pee.”
I don’t let up however, somehow knowing that is what a squirt can feel like. When it happens, I find that she doesn't put out quite the force that Becky had, but my hand is soaked nonetheless. I also feel my mental wall crumble under the force of both these women’s orgasms. I’m so overwhelmed by the feeling of their pleasure that I can’t hold mine back anymore, and I unload into Becky’s colon.
Our energies seem to feed back and forth into each other, constantly driving us to higher and higher plateaus of pleasure, until we can take no more, and blackness overwhelms us.