Gus Stevens - Love Me, Love My Dog

Amy and I moved briskly into their midst, all smiles and cries of greeting, rubbing our hands and moving here and there so they could get a good look at our bodies.

They looked, all right, and not without interest. Buddy was jabbing Johnny in the ribs as he ogled Amy, who was showing more skin in her bikini than the other two dames put together. Speaking of the other two dames, Mary Ellen was grinning at me like I was something under the tree Christmas morning.

Trudy wasn't missing a trick, looking from Mary Ellen to me and back again. That was an angle I hadn't figured on, a way to split them up. Make them jealous by playing one against the other.

Even as I thought about this, Trudy's face was turning dark with anger and she glared at Mary Ellen. “Remember, little girl, you're my guest here,” she spat.

Mary Ellen looked at her like she was the queen mother. “Little girl. I'm sixteen, just like you.”

“Four months younger, don't forget,” Trudy reminded her.

“Besides,” Mary Ellen continued, “Mr. Brady and Mrs. Brady said we could stay. So there. We're their guests, not yours.”

Trudy was a hustler and she got up at once, hurrying to me, taking my arm. “Go ahead, Mr. Brady, tell her who your favorite is.” Her eyes were promising me the moon, like it was a pimiento stuffed up her snatch.

“Well,” I began, “I wouldn't want to make trouble. You're nice girls, both of you. I'm sure each of you has her strong and weak points.”

“Weak?” Trudy snapped. “All right, tell me where I'm weak.”

I tried to spread my hands, but she was holding on tightly, her breast hammering at me like a soft club. I looked down at it.

“Am I weak there?” she blurted, following my gaze.

“Indeed, no, my dear.”

“Then here?” she continued, shoving her other mound into my chest, her hips jamming me hard.

“Again, I must say no. Your two strong points, actually.”

She swallowed, a kind of desperation in her eyes and I could feel the tables tipping in my favor… my favor and Amy's, because she was going the same route. From the corner of my eye I could see her looking first at Buddy and, when his interest was climbing, she'd turn to Johnny. She was playing them like a yo-yo with two strings.

“Then maybe I don't have what it takes here,” Trudy continued, stepping back and placing both hands on her crotch, gripping herself through her shorts. “Hasn't this thing shown you a couple of good times, Mr. Brady?”

“I never denied it,” I retorted.

“Well, then.”

“Just cool it,” I snapped, waving my hand in a gesture of dismissal. “You can't help it if you're not the only woman in my life.”

Her hands went to her hips, her feet planted far apart. “You remember what I said about keeping our fun quiet, Mr. Brady? I'd hate to have to make trouble now.”

I smiled. “If you did we'd all be in trouble and that fun we'd been having would all be in the past, permanently. Consider that.”

Apparently she did, while Mary Ellen got to her feet. She was hardly five feet tall and, from what I could see under her loose and gaudy shirt, she was buxom. She came to me, her hand out, and I shook it.

“Nice work, Mr. Brady,” she exclaimed. “You put her down real neat.”

I made a face, “I didn't mean to. Trudy's been a generous girl, until now.”

“Shucks, I can be generous, too.” I waited, refusing to commit myself. Let the two of them fight it out.

“Do you want me to show you?” Mary Ellen continued.

“You're my guest, my dear,” I purred, “so feel free to behave as you please.” “All right, then.”

Crossing her arms, Mary Ellen grasped the hem of her T-shirt and jerked it over her head. Naturally there was nothing underneath the thing and her heavy breasts bobbed into view. They were very white with tiny blue veins here and there and the nipples were half the size of coffee cups, their color a blood red.

Dropping the garment, the stocky girl posed, looking like a slightly too chubby cherub, one foot planted before the other. “Like me better now?” “Very appealing,” I admitted. “Huh.” The snort came from Trudy, who was lingering not far away. She came closer and, as she moved, I saw Alexander come into the picture, sniffing at Mary Ellen's discarded T-shirt. He looked up at us, puzzled, and tail wagging. That horny old mutt was loving this sort of action.

Mary Ellen whirled. “Butt out, former friend.” “Up yours, jerk,” Trudy hissed, poking her face into Mary Ellen's.

A split second before they were going to start trading scratches, I stepped between them. “All right, it's only fair that Trudy should have the opportunity to take center stage for the next few minutes, Go ahead, my dear.” My snake was panting, shoving against my zipper like a trapped animal hungering for freedom.

Trudy didn't fool around, either. She whipped away her tight T-shirt and there were those wonderfully familiar breasts, high and hard, bobbing stiffly, like cold Jello, waiting for me to take a spoonful. She put her hands on her hips and, thrusting her elbows back, she made those knobs push farther forward.

“Ha,” snorted Mary Ellen. “Even shoving clear down to your gut you can't make them come anywhere near to my size. Admit that all you've got is a couple of pimples. You could pop them and there'd be nothing left.”

Trudy was boiling and her eyes spat ice-blue fire at her tormentor. “You ungrateful bitch, talking to me like that. After all the fun we've had, after all the dates I've fixed up for you when you didn't want to sit home alone.”

Mary Ellen gasped. “Me sitting home alone? Make that you, honey pie. If I hadn't found you some friends you'd still be making out with Buddy here, your own brother, every night. Boy, talk about sick, she's it.” Mary Ellen said this last with her eyes on me, her thumb cocked toward Trudy.

Trudy started for her enemy, but again I came between them. “Please, young ladies, let us continue the talent show and perhaps a true winner will emerge.”

While I tried to cool them off Amy was playing games with the boys. She had them both down to their shorts and then, hands clasped, the three leaped into the pool with a series of thunderous splashes. They cavorted about, gasping at one another, and I imagined that many a cock, buttock and thigh were being pinched in their merriment.

Meanwhile, Mary Ellen was back on the job, opening buttons at her hip and then peeling back her bell-bottoms from her hips and tummy, letting the flap hang down. Slowly they went down until I was certain she wore nothing underneath. Once the pants passed her knees they dropped to the concrete and were kicked aside.

Again she posed for me and, while she had a belly that boasted a slight pot and her thighs were rather heavy, she was nevertheless in pleasing proportion and I could feel my body rouse itself further. It couldn't be too much longer before I must take one or the other of these young ladies-or both.

“All right?” she wanted to know, again thrusting those massive knockers.

“All right,” I had to admit. “A bit on the heavy side, but not unpleasantly so.

“A bit heavy,” Trudy was rasping, struggling with her shorts. Apparently the zipper in the middle of her buttocks was jammed. “She's built like a pregnant Army tank. Mount a gun on her and she could crash through any fortress.” Suddenly very sweet, she turned her back to me. “Could you help me with this, Mr. Brady? You're so strong.”

Mary Ellen's eyes rolled. “Oh, brother.”

I went along with her game, grasping the tab and pulling the thing down to the crack of her bottom. The white shorts peeled away from her plump cheeks like skin from an egg and at that moment I would have taken her over easy or over hard or even scrambled.