Wicked End (58 page)

Between them in the cab, Mathilde reeked softly of bar smoke, a beery floral perfume, and underarm sweat. Her breath was hissing and fast, mewling out of her open mouth as she panted with slightly drunken lust. He knew the words from those pimply, furtive days in boys’ middle school, “groping,” “fondling”—they alone elicited this dirty, prickling erection. But it was far more satisfying to be plying soft young flesh, pinching pink arm skin and stroking Mathilde’s breasts into damp, stiff peaks; wedging himself down to suckle on her cherry red nipples; feeling Lise through Mathilde’s body, rubbing up against her, grinding hips in awkwardly, crammed in the back seat of the cab as it careened through traffic, the driver unable to keep his eyes off the rearview.

The shaving was a ritual. Robert remembered the provincial French girl, her first time overseas, they had picked up in a Japanese saki house. The look of pure terror on her face when Lise had produced the straight razor was thrown into sharp relief by the dissolving hysterics they had all collapsed into once its purpose was explained to her. Lise shaved Mathilde with care and erotic dexterity; Robert had become so entranced with the cold sharp metal/hot tender skin contrasts of this particular foreplay, it aroused him like no other fetish. Mathilde’s naked cunt, just the smallest obligatory nick smiling in a thin red line, readied, washed and pampered for his probing, fingering, fucking—the anticipation almost overwhelmed him.

Mathilde stood in a little pool of her own excitement in the center of their rented flat, looking at both of them with limpid, large wet eyes. She was stripping, pushing at her clothes, stretching them tightly over her round proportions, oozing out of a slip, her hands coaxing her breasts from a sweat-soaked brassiere, her skin glowing hotly in the warm yellow light. Her hands. Her hands releasing her body, the smell of her sex, the odor of wet pussy waving out around her as she turned her back to them, looking coyly over her shoulder through a halo of golden hair at them in periphery, pushing panties down over the globes of her asscheeks and then bending over, her legs splitting like the white skin of a pomegranate as her head bent to the ground, the fruit and smell of her cunt revealed to them like a jewel. Robert heard the slight gasp and felt Lise give out a tiny shudder beside him—a sure sign of something she called “the psychological orgasm.” He smiled to himself. His own silk pants were spotted with fluid leaking from his cock, bathing the head, making the once soothing material clingy and itchy. His mouth was watering.

He went to Mathilde in the middle of the room, gazing at the proffered ass, loosening his pants, undoing his shirt. He laid his hot hand on the white skin, and thought he detected a color change, a flush. A little heat wave recorded on her ass. Robert stroked her gently, and then as his desire grew, he plied the flesh with his hands, making it jiggle, assessing the power and softness about to engulf his now violently hard prick. Mathilde snorted out a tiny laugh as she lost her balance, staggering in front of him, still bent forward, reaching out to steady herself with her hands. Offering herself up to him.

A drop of liquid spattered the hardwood floor between his feet. He let his hand move over Mathilde’s thigh, finally allowing himself the luxury of her pussy—Lise’s hand covered his at this, his favorite moment. A new surge of blood, a muscle spasm flexed him when he realized the splash at his feet was from Mathilde’s literally dripping cunt. He traced a snail-thin trail of wetness up the inside of Mathilde’s leg, Lise pressed tight behind him, small “mmmm”s of pleasure issuing from her mouth and from Mathilde, who was pushing back against his arm with need. His and Lise’s fingers dipped into Mathilde simultaneously, and they each began stroking her lips with unique rhythms of want. Robert began swaying gently back and forth in the rocking of fuck, his cock beating a slow tempo on Mathilde’s ass, Lise naked behind him, pressed up against his back. His fingers stroked over Lise’s fingers, over Mathilde’s slick sex, over her gaping, hungry hole. Mathilde whimpered a little every time his fingers paused at the entrance to her deepest self. He teased her, dipping first his fingers, then the head of his penis into her folds; stroking his shaft along her lips, under Lise’s hand, against her clitoris in tiny circles. Her clit was swollen and throbbing. Then, holding onto her hips, he let Lise’s hand guide him inside Mathilde, and thrust into her, her swallowing cunt rippling along his shaft as he was gulped deeper inside, every inch of his cock embraced.

Lise was humping up against him now. He could just feel her hand as it twirled around her own cunt, brushing his buttocks as she stroked herself into orgasm. Her breasts slid against his skin as she pounded into him, one hand in the stroking fucking he was serving Mathilde, the other in her own pussy. She would slip the masturbating hand between the cheeks of his ass or over his balls occasionally, smearing him with her thick lubricant. As he began heaving faster and harder into Mathilde, Lise racked with pleasure behind him, squealing with her first orgasm.

The air hit his back like cool water as she left him, moving around in front of him, positioning herself under Mathilde’s head. Robert looked into Lise’s face, flushed and damp, her hair a wild mass behind her. She smiled at him thickly, slightly—another spasming pump of cum-hunger dragged at his dick like it was being sucked up from inside him. He loved watching women eat Lise’s pussy.

Robert pulled Mathilde back, rolling her hips, his cock slurping out of her grabbing grasp loiteringly. He watched as his slime-shiny prick pulled out, Mathilde’s cunt lips clinging to it like grapevines, and disappeared again, the delicious feeling of his cockhead pushing open vacuum-tight spongy spaces, caressed by this wet, engulfing cradle of life and desire. He bent himself over her and folded his arm down around Mathilde’s hip, and began petting her lips and her mound, fingering her clitoris in light, upward strokes. Mathilde gasped when he touched a spot just under her pubic bone and to the side of her clit; he planted his middle finger there and began the expert twirl Lise had shown him. He cocked his head, listening to Mathilde’s muffled yowling, and lifted his eyes to Lise’s face, easing into a slow pump.

He watched Lise pull her knees up to her chest, rubbing her breasts with the tops of her thighs, pushing her pouting sex out between the backsides of her legs. The musky, dark smell of her twat wafted around his head like a veil. He asked Mathilde to pull her hair back. He told her he wanted to see it, so lovely. With one pink hand clutching her yellow hair at the nape of her neck, Mathilde angled her head slightly against Lise’s olive thigh and glanced at him over her downy cheek, out of the side of her eye. She smiled very sweetly, Robert thought. He brought her hips back sharply onto his pelvis, impaling her, and she gasped. He smiled back.

Mathilde slowly pushed her tongue between Lise’s cum-drenched nether lips, parting them, peeling them apart like a nut shell. Robert knew that languorous, half-lidded feeling, wanting to lick sex like a dog, long strokes of the tongue loyally lapping pussy. Mathilde salivated and sprayed like citrus, juicing Lise’s cunt to an even gaudier sheen. Lise gasped and arched, splaying her legs, pushing herself up into Mathilde’s eating mouth. Almost as if he had telepathically communicated it, Mathilde acted Robert’s fever to suck, lipped Lise’s clitoris into her mouth and began tongueing her to orgasm, plunging her mouth into Lise’s hole, bringing it back up again to tease at the button, fucking with her tongue.

Robert squeezed Mathilde’s clit between two fingers, tweaking in earnest. Mathilde bumped her head against Lise’s thigh, slack-jawed and oblivious at the moment of her impending pleasure. Lise grabbed Mathilde’s head and held her, crooning to her to cum. Robert rocked his penis deep inside her, thrusting up against the pelvic crib, into his cupping hand kneading her cunt. Squeezing it, extruding the orgasm from inside of her—Robert watched a brief string of spit drool down onto Mathilde’s back from his lip and sucked it in under his teeth. Then he felt the compressing ripple, the wave begin, spreading out from Mathilde’s deepest center, cumming and cumming, gumming his prick ever inward like a toothless maw; and the fast gush of her spending washing his balls and hips in spurts. A squirter.

That urgent yank pulled at him again from inside, the preciousness of a woman’s orgasm manifesting itself physically making his head spin in the near-nausea of sentimentality. Gripped with new desire, he pulled out of her cunt, looking down at her delicious bottom, proffered at the altar of his passion. The purple, puckered asshole glistened up at him, slick and inviting, the promise of almost unbearable heat and pressure from that forbidden portal luring him.

He looked into Lise’s face, his eyes caressing the length of her body, settling on the blond head buried with renewed vigor in ready pussy . He gently began probing his hungry head against Mathilde’s anus, a question, a request. She pushed back at him. An answer. An eager reply.

Robert spit in his palm and rubbed the gooey mass over the head of his cock, and fed his prick into Mathilde, stretching her, slowly, excruciatingly, pushing forward into her ass as she groaned, her whimpers muffled by labia. He began fucking in earnest, pushing in, pulling out, feeling that sweetest burning crest in his bowels. Robert staved himself into honeyed, round buttocks, hinging his arms out in an effort to pull Mathilde ever farther down onto the pounding piston of his extended carnal appetite. His fingers pockmarked her ass, leaving impressions like they would in pliant dough, pulling her into the shape that best conformed to his need. And all the time, he watched her give Lise head, Lise’s face contorted in ecstasy, Lise’s nipples bright and rigid, Lise bucking her hips high as she started to cum. Mathilde’s red mouth in almost-profile, showing him. Mathilde’s red red tongue, plumbing, torturing Lise’s clit, lapping inner lips, fucking and plunging, stroking and teasing, and then, blessing her with release, engulfing the clitoris like a penis and sucking Lise off until she came, rocketing, clenching, cumming, cumming. He could feel it rising in himself now, undeniable, unrequited. Deeper, deeper into that hot hole, a purging and a burning, the muscle at the entrance to her ass bearing down, impossibly close now, yanking, rutting, exploding, exploding, great huge gobs of himself shooting up from down in him, drawing his balls up against his body, spurting, his head thrown back in mad delirium.

Continued in:

It was Christmas break, and my best friend Chad and I had been home for a few days already. We were both seniors at Southwest New Jersey University, which was just outside our hometown. I loved going to the same school as him, but I missed living right next door to him more than I thought I would.

I was still in bed and naked under the blanket. I wasn’t a morning person, so I never got right up when my alarm went off. It was even more difficult on cold winter mornings.

I sighed, remembering the awesome dream I’d had right before awakening. Chad and another guy from school were in my bed with me. I often dreamed of them both separately, but they’d never been together with me before. They were both in my pussy at the same time and had me screaming in ecstasy for what seemed like hours. I wondered if I would ever be with either of them, let alone both, that way and if it would be that good.

I shook the dream away and turned onto my belly. I gazed out the window next to my bed. I could see Chad’s bedroom in the house next door, but not Chad. I loved watching him in his room. I had yet to see him naked, but was sure one day I would.

He was in love with me. If he knew I watched him, it would make his day. However, I had only sexual, not romantic, feelings for him, which I hid. We had made out in the past, but had gone no further.

I got out of bed and put on my silk robe. I took a shower, which helped to quell my arousal. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like for one of the men of my dreams to be washing me. I closed my eyes and imagined Chad’s soapy hands running over my breasts and down my belly towards… “Stop that!” I scolded myself.

We had been trying to make it in the music world for five years, but had never found the right people to connect with. Chad promised me he had found two brothers who would finally mesh with us as a band. As I dressed, I wondered what the newest drummer and singer would look like. They were most likely geeks from Chad’s computer classes. That was his major. Mine was music. We had put together three other bands before, but most of the time Chad’s impatient nature and need to control things got in the way.

I checked myself in the mirror. I had jeans on because Chad’s garage would be cold. But I still wore a low cut blouse that revealed ample cleavage. Chad would love it, but then again he would love me in a sweatshirt.

I tried to have an open mind, but we had wasted a lot of time trying to find the right bandmates. When I got over to Chad’s, his garage was open. There was another van in the driveway, parked next to the one he had driven since high school. I took a deep breath and went right to him.

The brothers had their back to me. They were pulling drums out of the van. One had short hair and the other long. Chad kissed my cheek and whispered that he loved me. Then the guy with long hair turned around.

My mouth dropped and I stared at him. I couldn’t believe it was him; the man from my dream. Or more accurately, the classmate I dreamt of because I was afraid to speak to him. That was a first for me. I normally feared nothing.

He held my gaze and gave me an amazing smile. Then he shyly said, “Hi, I’m Giovanni Saracino.”

I felt like I was going to pass out. I smiled back, but couldn’t talk. No guy had ever made me react that way. He stripped me of all of my thoughts with just a smile. I failed a test once because he looked at me in class.

“You’re Crystal Atkinson, right?” Giovanni added.

I just nodded as I gaped at him.

Chad moved between us. He and I were very close and I knew he was upset that I was attracted to his friend. He was 6 feet 4 inches tall—a foot over me.