9781618857569GettingitAllStorm (24 page)

Holy
moley
,
Matt groaned to himself. He was gonna blow before he’d even gotten out of his
drawers.

“Damn!” He grabbed them both and dragged
the shrieking women toward the bedroom. “I was going to put on a little show
for you girls, but…”

“Oh, you’re putting on a big show all
right, big boy,” Dorothy batted at his boner.
“Fine with us.
Should we give him a round of applause, Lucy?”

“Oh, yes!” Scooting behind, she grabbed
the back of Matt’s underpants and yanked them down, proceeding to paddle the
exposed set of naked hard buns as Dot moved around front and began clapping her
hands with his dick between.

Matt was beside himself hanging on to his
self control. He grabbed Dorothy’s waist with one hand and pulled her to him,
dipping his head to nuzzle the top of her breasts as he hooked a finger in the
waistband of Lucy’s thong and tugged her gently toward the bed onto which they
all three tumbled, laughing like giddy teenagers.

What followed was anything but
teenagerish
.

Dorothy and Lucy’s expensive underwear
came off. Not quickly, but slowly and seductively, piece-by-piece, each in turn
as they enticingly wriggled and unwound to tower over their man as he lay
throbbing desperately, spread out and pronged up on the bed below them.

With no covering left on the ladies but
the thong on Lucy’s slim body as she stretched her arms
ceilingward
,
Dot bounced on the mattress behind her to seductively slither the tiny garment
down Lucy’s hips and off, revealing in the undulating landscape of flawless
sculpted flesh a most inviting slit pressed tightly closed, moistly waiting to
be thrust through.

Chuckling, Dot bumped her fuller hip
against Lucy’s slim one. “Okay, big dude,” she looked down at Matt, “which do
you prefer?
A naturally decorated cunt or a pure and simple
pussy?”

Taking a moment to revel in what was
being presented to him, Matt
arced
his hips in the air
to strip off his pre-cum drenched microfiber briefs and toss them aside. His
dick sprang free, raw and rampant. “I want ‘em both. I’m a greedy son of a bitch.
Groomed and
ungroomed
. On you gals they’re both
perfect.”

Launching himself up on his knees he
grabbed both women and buried his face in each crotch in turn, his chin forcing
the legs slightly apart to allow his tongue to swab and thrust into their centers.
Gasping and holding on to each other to keep from dropping like felled lumber,
Lucy and Dot sank onto the bed as Matt’s hungry mouth continued to push into
each center.

Having achieved laying their sweet asses
onto the sheets, Matt pressed their shapely limbs up and back, working from
underneath their spread thighs. He stroked his tongue from assholes to clits,
driving his drilling mouth organ into the molten depths to spread the luscious
lips and revel in the inner soaked flesh.

Sucking on each clit, his swirling tongue
ignited them both as his roaming hands clutched and stroked and plucked, each
woman howling with anticipation and urgency. His head worked back and forth,
his big dick and heavy balls waving and flapping as his hips swiveled and he ministered,
carefully driving both women to the edge of bliss.

Dorothy should arrive first, he
calculated. Her initial extended orgasm would last until Lucy joined her,
exploding firecracker-like an instant later. Matt continued to devour one and
then the other as they shrieked and thrashed and flailed their trembling legs
over his head.

Sensing the home stretch, with a feral
growl he was up and over them, his dick first buried in Dorothy, then in Lucy,
slamming his stuffed sausage home, pounding just long enough to keep their
rolling orgasms crashing as they gasped and lurched.

He blew his wad in two women at the same
time, trailing cum and cunt juices from one to the other, delirious nerve
endings exploding throughout his body and theirs. Their hands were all over
him. Their
orgasming
bodies tangled underneath. Hips
and thighs and legs and arms and waists coiled under him, gasps and groans of
pleasure reverberating off the flailing flesh, as his dick, as if led by
magnetic heat-seeking rocket guidance, found the pussies and the cunts and
socketed even deeper with each exhausting, nerve-crashing thrust.

Until he could thrust no more and lay
drained and gasping.

And then, giggling and gulping, the girls
together blew him, he was never sure whose luscious lips were pumping his meat
back up to A-l grade and whose wide-stretched mouth encompassed his balls and
sucked and swabbed them back to full capacity.

He blew another huge load as they
straddled him, each in
turn,
riding him to the finish
line, until he thought his ass was going to blow out his dick as they
double-dipped him.

It was awe-inspiring.
Two
amazing women.
Each separate and distinct, yet all three seemed to weld
together, completing the fire circle until the sparks sailed off into the
infinite dark heavens coalescing into stars drilled into the protective heavens
encompassing them and them alone.

It was awe-inspiring.

They lay
bleery
-eyed
and panting, entwined.

“Think we can survive this kind of stuff
every time we get together?” He was barely able to whisper.

“I think we need…” Dorothy began.

“More practice,” Lucy finished eagerly.

“Which brings up,” Matt struggled to
think straight as he shoved himself up on his elbows and struggled back against
the headboard. “I’ve been thinking.”

They snuggled on either side.

“So have I,” Lucy said, brightly. “I’ve
been crunching a bunch of numbers and…”

“Yeah, me
thinking too.
But no numbers.”
Dot
hurried to add her two cents. “What do you say we…”

“Stay this way,” Lucy piped up, “instead
of trying to win a dumb bet or cut somebody out
who
…”

“Nobody should lose anything,” Dorothy
rushed on, her excitement growing.

“We should all be happy.” Lucy was all
but shouting.

“Together?” Matt rumbled, cutting through
the building tension.
“The three of us?
Is that what
you’re trying to say?”

Silence as the waves retreated to
regroup.

“Yeah.”

“Exactly.”

Matt chuckled as he watched their anxious
faces. “Good idea.”

Another silence as they separately
considered what they had suggested.

“God, my cunt aches,” Dorothy groused.

“I think my pussy is gonna be sore,” Lucy
whimpered.

“My dick might drop off,” Matt offered.

“Then I think we should get to it again,”
Dot suggested practically, “before any of that stuff happens. We can recuperate
later.”

“Hair of the
dog.”
Lucy giggled. First time tonight she had allowed herself to giggle.
Matt was impressed.

“Who wants to go first?”

“Me!” they chorused.

The waves crashed back in, happily
swamping all three.

* * * *

Three days later, a distraught Dorothy
watched Amelia resignedly flip the sign on the front door of The Crowning Glory
to ”Closed” as her boss gloomily glanced back at the mayhem inside.

Dorothy hadn’t meant for it to get this
far. She had expected there might be a slight problem as she and Lucy waited
out the goal they had set, but it was nothing they wouldn’t be able to handle.

She had hoped.

Lucy began to break down first.
Insecure.
Young.
Dorothy bolstered
her. They had made the right decision for the big decision that was coming.
They had to think this thing through clearly.

Lucy had done a great job of presenting
her case for their living together in Matt’s little house. They would indeed
save a bundle. They could take trips. They could buy a bigger house.

Dorothy’s suggestion they take a week off
from each other to think about the huge step they had all so enthusiastically
agreed to take, seemed like the next logical move for a proposed threesome of
adults to take. Though she had made it in repressed panic and somehow managed
to present it calmly and lightly as if it would be more of a validation than a
threat.

The doubts that being apart allowed to
surface had gotten worse with every passing day, and now, in the middle of the
week—in the middle of the day—Lucy had flown Carmen’s protective coop to face
Dorothy down at her place of work.

The women at the shop had all joined in
the discussion.
Enthusiastically.
Irately.
Romantically.
No work was getting done. Amelia had
rolled her eyes and moved to boldly declare the place closed for business until
her friends could get their lives sorted out.

Many apologies were passed out and
promises
to reschedule appointments, but none of the ladies
even seemed to notice the slight interruption in their full-throated discussion
of other’s lives.

“As I said,” Marta
Dalaport
,
her face uncharacteristically red with emotion, “I think it’s enormously wise
of Dorothy to demand a time out for them all to reconsider their rash
proposal.”

Lucy wept louder. Amelia went to calm
her.

“Marta, there was no demand.” Dot worked
to keep calm. “And our wanting to live together wasn’t rash. We’ve practically
been inseparable for weeks. It seemed like a good idea. We all had the same
idea at the same time. We…we really think it’ll work…we think.”

“This town is going crazy as it is,” one
of the other ladies interjected. “Why I hear there might even be some young men
or women living together under the same roof around here.” She glanced around
apprehensively as if the invaders might already be outside the very venerable
walls of this Main Street hallowed establishment.

That caught Lucy’s attention. “What? You
mean we’ve got normal relations going on in
CoveHaven
.
I’m not sure the town’s reputation can take it.”

“No. No. Of course we have normal
relations,” the woman replied, totally unaware of Lucy’s irony, “I mean young
men and women of the same sex.” She thought for a moment, not being used to
discussing such sexual matters in public.
Or in private, for
that matter.
“Uh, gay…people.”

Brunhilde
Mendle
,
roused her aching
bones and straightened. “And what’s wrong with gay people wanting the same
thing so-called normal people have? They pay the same taxes we do. They don’t
want any special privileges. They just want the same privileges. That’s all
that Dorothy and Lucy and Matt want. And they’re not even gay.”

“That’s not exactly true,
Brunnie
,” Marta interjected superiorly. “Multiple
households have been frowned on since, well, I guess since the Mormons were in
the area.”

“Some Mormons are still in the area,”
Amelia pointed out dryly.
“Pillars of the community.
And we’re not talking polygamy, for heaven’s sake. Dot and Lucy and Matt are
not getting married.”

Lucy began to wail again. “We might not
even be getting together again. It’s
all your
fault,
Dorothy,” she suddenly spat out and then instantly collapsed.

“I know, sweetie.” Dorothy went to her to
relieve Amelia and hold her young distraught friend close. “You’re right. I did
think it might be a good thing to take a few days before we committed ourselves
to anything. I’m a
scaredy
cat. I just wanted us to
be sure. I didn’t know we would start having all these doubts.”

“Well, I think you were right, Dot,”
Brunnie
raised an arthritic finger. “Better to get all the
questions that might crop up later out of the way right at the beginning. Some
people like oatmeal. Some people like dry cereal. If more young people would
think before they leaped…”

“We’re not young people,
Brunnie
,” Dorothy said with resignation. “Two of us have
been married, for heaven’s sake. None of us has been attracted to two other
people at the same time before either.” She paused. That might not be exactly
true
.
“It’s a little unnerving.”

“Not to me,” Lucy snorted. “I know I want
to spend my life with you and Matt. But, now,” she began to wail again. “Matt
might decide not to. You might decide not to. And then where would I be? It’s
not fair to have had something beautiful and then question it. Why, Dorothy?
Why?”

Dorothy sighed, slumping in a chair. “It
seemed like a good idea at the time. I guess I was just…a little too gun shy
from before.”

That wasn't all she was gun shy from. She
had thought her and Matt's quick reunion behind the vans in the parking lot
would suddenly and definitively put her mind at ease. And for the brief
astonishing moments they had been coupled and the glorious afterglow her
euphoria had truly been ecstatic. Then the old doubts had come crawling back
in. The old disbelieving, suspicious Dorothy had clawed her way to the
forefront.
Slowly at first, itching and gnawing to regain
ascendancy, then finally bursting into full-blown panic mode.