Ron Taylor - Wife in the middle

Caron stood up. Both her men were facing her, both of them naked and rigid. They were handsome men, each in their own ways, Paul young and lithe like a swimmer or a gymnast, Lou heavy and husky like a steelworker or a lumberjack. Their cocks thrust out proudly, and each of them had reason to be proud. She knew both those cocks, and now she was being forced, to choose between them.

She reached out with both hands, at the same time. It wasn't a time to show favoritism. She took hold of Lou's prick at the same moment she took hold of Paul's. Male power surged in her fists and she squeezed, relishing her command of that power. Two men at once, she thought. Two hard virile men to service me at the same time. And I'm sober enough to know what's going on. This might be an enriching experience after all.

The realization that she could even think in such a fashion almost shattered Caron's composure. But by then she was at the bed and her men with her. She settled onto the edge and they drew in, their cocks glaring at her. She looked at their faces. Lou's was sardonic, cynically amused, Paul's was tense and drawn. And how do I look, she wondered. If she turned around she could have seen herself in the mirror, but she didn't want to do that. She was afraid of what she might see, afraid she might be able to tell how much she relished this moment.

She lay back on the bed, her legs hanging over the side, her pussy slightly exposed by the spread of her thighs. "Who's first?" she asked saucily.

"Goddamn it," Paul said, clenched teeth muffling his words. He threw himself upon her, and his cock sawed into her twat. She kicked high into the air as he penetrated her, and it was a good stroke, a damned good stroke. He was hot and angry, and he fucked in a hot angry fashion. She clutched him with her arms, her legs, her pussy, and he drove relentlessly into Caron's cooze.

"Mmmmmmm," she purred, and it was good, but she wanted Lou to know it was good too. He stood beside the bed, watching, one hand stroking his peter, the other twirling the ends of his walrus moustache. She'd pull that damned thing out hair by hair, she reminded herself. Sometime when he least expected it. Maybe while he was asleep some night she'd take scissors and cut off one side of the wiry monstrosity. He'd wake up in the morning with half a moustache and a hell of a surprise.

Caron stiffened under Paul. What in the name of hell was she thinking about? That entire fantasy involved a future, and a future with Lou Archer. Moustache and all.

Paul sensed the sudden change in her mood. "Loosen," he said. "You wanted it this way and you're going to get it this way." He pumped her savagely, using a vindictiveness she'd never known in him before. She writhed and moaned and pushed at his chest. "No, softer," she murmured, but he didn't seem to hear. Her snatch, was raw from the fuckings it had already taken this afternoon and he scraped that raw livid flesh with his hard peter, pushed deep into the creamed-out center of her vagina, hit her womb with driving, ferocious stabs. She bucked and writhed under him, and it was a kind of rape, like that first assault from Lou, and she found it taking on a new depth, a new interest. Her body twisted, and his angle of penetration wasn't so agonizing. In fact, it was almost nice.

The bed depressed and she looked around to see Lou beside her, the tip of his cock pointed toward her mouth. "Chew this," he said, "and remember who's still the king."

He pushed, and she opened her mouth widely, as she had to in order to get his big tool comfortably inside. He thrust deep and she began to suck. The taste of cum, his and hers, was strong as garlic on his meat, lending a flavorful tang that was delightful on her tongue.

"Bitch," Paul growled. She half heard him, wasn't sure that he had really called her such a name. Maybe she was imagining the sound. She was more concerned with sucking Lou's fat prick, with moving her body to accommodate the vaginal piercing thrusts of Paul's sizable rod. Her knees came up, clutched at Paul's sides, and she worked one hand from his body, bringing it round to grab at the base of Lou's peter so she could cup his balls while she sucked his shaft.

Maybe Paul had called her a bitch after all. He began to fuck her like a rabbit humping its mate, and she couldn't shimmy fast enough to keep up with his strokes. He was hurting her again, hurting her with the impetuous drive of his cock. She made little choked moaning sounds around Lou's prick, and the vibration of her mouth seemed to inspire him with added arousal. He thrust deeper, until he was almost in her throat. Her cheeks were drawn in tightly and her tongue and lips made passionate love to his organ.

The sensation of being with two men at once was incredible. Caron's whole body was live and pulsating with stimulation. I wish I'd tried this a lot sooner, she thought. It had its own kinky brand of satisfaction. But there were so many things she'd never really tried. Like assfucking. Not until today had she understood the true glory of the act. How about cradling a pecker between her thighs – not inside her body, just rubbing the gash of her cunt from outside, frictioning her to distraction? Lou had taught her that one, too. Or making it with a woman. She'd never even thought of doing that. But Lou had spoken of it briefly, in passing, mentioned that Melissa would be delighted to join them in the sack.

Lou. Lou. Lou. She was thinking of nothing but Lou and the things he'd done to her today. Paul fucked like a maniac, and twenty-four hours ago she'd have been crawling out of her skin, ready to explode in a come. But what about today? Where was her head now, at three in the afternoon?

Paul groaned and shot off into her pussy. She felt his cock exploding, but there was no matching response from Caron's twat. She bucked against him, wanting to come, but somehow she couldn't. The urge was there but not enough power. He'd fucked her savagely, brutally, to prove a point – not to bring her the pleasure a man brings a woman. Was it so much different from Lou, slapping her around the kitchen, carrying her off to bed like a caveman?

Paul dragged his dick from her sheath and finished squirting onto her belly. She looked down, saw the thick drops of cum spurt from his prick, splattering her skin. It was a rather contemptuous gesture, she thought, and it reminded her of the time they'd gone to that dirty movie drive-in. All the sex scenes had ended that way, the male actors pulling their dicks out just before orgasm and creaming all over their partners' stomachs. She'd felt uncomfortable watching it. A man should ejaculate inside his woman – her mouth, her pussy, even her asshole, where Lou had squirted not more than an hour ago. She felt that same discomfort now, as Paul rubbed his sticky cum into the flesh of her abdomen.

"Suck mine now," he said. "You might as well give it the old taste test," and with that he too climbed onto the bed.

Caron moved back, making room for him, and she released Lou's penis. Reluctantly. She turned around, and there was Paul's rod, still erect despite his ejaculation. She took him in her fingers, and he was sticky with cum. She put him in her mouth and began to suck.

"C'mon, suck me, Caron," he growled fiercely. "Eat it all the way down!" He rammed into her, not caring if he hurt or not, and the head of his cock went all the way to her throat. She was used to taking him that deeply, but she required a little warm-up first and he'd not bothered giving it to her. Caron furrowed her brow and she thought as she blew.

At the same time, Lou was pulling her legs around. He worked his finger – surprisingly gentle – into her cummy snatch and reamed it round and round a few times. Her lower body began to undulate softly, arousal building. His thumb located her clit, which was not difficult to find, and he pressed down upon it. Bells started ringing inside Caron's head. She was hardly aware of the dick in her mouth, but she sucked it, steadily, mechanically, taking it deeply and loving it with everything she could bring to bear.