Double Exposure: A Dark MMF Bisexual Romance Page 3

  “Mmm,” she moaned. “Oh god Mr. White! Oh god, yeah, back there, back there!”

  The words were ridiculous seeing that that massive fuckshaft was buried up her butt all the way, only his balls visible. He clearly didn’t need any direction, the dude knew what he was doing, a woman’s body is no mystery to someone as dirty and rancid as Jed. So yeah, I should have left then, about now was the perfect time to make an exit.

  But something bizarre and uncomfortable happened. Because I should have backed away, or at the very least, I should have grinned and smirked, happy to see my buddy getting some. But instead, an indescribable feeling blew over me then, a burn deep in the pit of my groin, making me sweat, making me hot. Because I had to see it. I had to see Jed’s big dick, I had to see if it was bigger than mine, in all its fucking glory.

  And it wasn’t some type of competition, or some kind of misplaced one-upmanship. It wasn’t that I was jealous, or curious, or a dirty mofo. It was that I was hungry. I needed to see that cock for my own good, to put to rest the niggling doubts I’d been having at night, the hungry glances that I sometimes threw my partner’s way. It’s so fucking wrong, this is the dude that I’m financially linked to, we’re entwined in a way that goes even beyond husband and wife. And yet here I was, watching avidly as he assfucked our pretty new intern, ravenously dying to see that huge cock.

  And sure enough, it wasn’t long in coming. Evidently Jed is so good at giving it to girls that within a minute, they explode, that ass ring gripping him tight, the blonde’s butt quivering and shaking as he pumped with a glorious roar.

  “Fuck!” the big man shouted, huge body bucking and shaking as man milk spurted into the teen’s ass cavern. “Fuck fuck fuck!”

  Oh shit, this was so good to see. I palmed my dick in my fist, blue eyes hot as I watched where their bodies joined, the hot flesh slapping together. Oh fuck, oh fuck, it was so good, creamy jizz was already beginning to drip from between their bodies, semen leaking out from the girl’s behind. And what would make this dirty scenario absolutely perfect is if we swapped in Angie for Vicky, the curvy brunette’s curls flying this way and that as she was fucked in the ass by my partner … and then by me.

  But beggars can’t be choosers, and at this moment, the blonde vixen was having her way. Vicky moaned hard, gripping Jed’s neck tight and then jiggled her hips backwards and forwards a bit, like she was shaking the last drops from that hard fuckrod. And then with a mewl and a giggle, the female popped her butt off, letting it hang in the air a couple inches over his thick cock.

  “Daddy,” the blonde murmured, “Daddy I’ve got a present for you.”

  Letting go of his shoulders, she positioned herself just right so that her anal hole kissed the tip of his hard dick.

  “Stay still Daddy,” she giggled. “It’s coming.”

  And reaching in back, each hand gripping a different butt cheek, the blonde pulled herself apart. Fuck, I love that. I love when a woman opens herself to you, showing her tiny hole because she wants it so bad. But here, Vicky had more to show than a little ass gape because not only had Jed fucked her hard back there, but he’d deposited a huge load. And now that cum was dripping out. It swelled inside Vicky’s butt chamber, pearling a bit at her entrance before oozing out, glopping heavily onto his stiff fuck shaft.

  “That’s right,” she giggled again. “Daddy I’m giving back to you, look, look.”

  And fuck, it was amazing. Jed’s rod is huge, as big as my own, still pulsing even though he’d just let loose with a massive spurt of sperm. It was different-shaped than mine, his is more like a U that points upwards towards his chest, whereas mine juts out ninety degrees, aimed directly at my victim most times. And in this case, Jed was eating it up.

  “Let ‘er drip,” he rumbled, stroking the little girl’s back, running big hands up and down that smooth, glowing skin. “Let ‘er drip, let’s see what she’s got.”

  Vicky strained for a moment, pulling her ass cheeks even wider as her abs pulsed a bit, eyes squeezed shut as she concentrated. And then it was there. A huge glob of white, virile semen dropped out of her butt and landed squarely on Jed’s glans, sliding down that purple helmet and then down his thick rod, coating the iron with another sticky stream of white.

  “Oh yeah,” our intern sighed, throwing her head back. “Oh yeah.”

  And I must have let out a noise then, I was so fucking aroused. Because yeah, I had my dick out watching the nasty show, I was stroking Mr. Happy like there was no tomorrow, imagining what I would do as part of this trio. And swiftly, Jed’s blue eyes turned to catch mine, making me out in the darkness. My hand stopped, heart beating like a fucking drum. I was so fucked now, my law partner, my best friend, had just caught me spying on him as he did our little intern, as he gave it to her good. He was gonna think I was some kind of dirty pervert, because instead of my eyes roving over that heavenly female form, my gaze was glued to his dick, hot and urgent, desperate to taste the white cum, to lick it off the alpha myself. I needed it, I wanted his sperm in my mouth, I wanted our sperm to commingle in a frothy drink, a liquid that was the essence of both of us.

  And instead of roaring with rage, attacking me and kicking me in the face, it was like Jed could read my mind. It was like he knew exactly what I wanted because as our eyes locked over Vicky’s back, slowly he reached down and caressed his own shaft, massaging his cream into the hardness.

  “You like?” he asked softly. “You like?”

  Vicky immediately squirmed and squealed more, boobs bobbling as she held her ass even wider, offering her all to him. But I knew the question wasn’t for the female. The question was for me. My partner was teasing me, he was playing me, making me want him even more. And I did what any red-blooded alpha would. I pulled my dick once more, a really hard jerk, and with that the cum came spraying out. Oh yeah, right there in the darkened hallway of our law offices, I spurted for my partner to see, giving Jed his own special show. The cum went flying, arcing high under the glimmering lights before splashing against his office door and running down in rivulets. Oh shit, oh shit, we were gonna have to get that cleaned up, no sense in employees coming in at 8 a.m. tomorrow morning to see caked sperm on the furniture.

  But Jed loved it all. As he stroked that massive dick covered with sperm, he watched my penis twitch and jerk furiously, blast after blast of white stuff arcing from my tip, purely for his eyes. I closed my own, giving myself over, images of Jed and Angie blending in my mind. Oh god, what would it be like, to pull my dick out of Angie’s puss and put it into Jed? What would it be like, to have the two of them taking turns sucking my dick, both mouths going furiously, and then watching them kiss after I came, swapping sperm? Shit, it was my dirtiest fantasy, what I wanted in my heart of hearts and the orgasm barreled even harder then, making me moan and jerk. Semen shot like gunshots against the oak door, literally coating the surface in hot, virile superglue.

  And after it was over, after my eyes re-opened, knees weak, I met Jed’s eyes again. My partner merely looked at me, a gleam in that knowing gaze, his hand still stroking his hard rod.

  “It was a good one, wasn’t it?” he rumbled deep, never looking away.

  Of course, Vicky still thought he was talking to her.

  “Oh yes, Mr. White,” she panted. “You know I’ll be the best intern you’ve ever had, I’m available at all hours,” she purred. “Whenever you want.”

  But I knew he was talking to me, and so with my own heated gaze, I nodded at him, tucking myself back into my pants. The big man merely looked at me, a smile playing about his lips, hard body still draped with that girl. And slowly retreating, I turned towards my office, softly padding down the long corridor to my private space.

  Because what had happened, oh fuck, oh fuck, it was so wrong, so completely, absolutely fucked-up. I’d just watched Jed do another woman, pummel a female hard, and all I wanted was more. But I didn’t want more of him with Vicky, I wanted more of Jed with me. I wanted that hot cock to chok
e me, I wanted to feel that stiff shaft down my throat, blasting the good stuff into my stomach. And even more wrong, I wanted Angie to be there with us. I wanted to guide his cock into her tight pussy, watched as it owned her ass before owning mine. In short, I’m fucked-up in the head, absolutely screwed with no hope. I’m fantasizing about my nubile sister-in-law and my alpha, very male law partner, the two people in the world who should be off-limits. But instead … Angie and Jed are exactly what I want.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Brian

  I wasn’t exactly the bravest dude that night. After watching Jed fuck our intern, I didn’t hang out long at the office. What I’d just done and my resulting emotions were a whirl of confusion, and I couldn’t process them all, it was too fucking messed up. After all, I’m the alpha male, so what the fuck was I thinking? I’ve banged dozens of women, I’ve made them weep, get on their knees and beg me for more, offering their pussies, their asses, any holes available, and yet here I was dreaming about a man.

  So yeah, after the little interlude, I beat feet, grabbing my keys and getting into the Maserati, heading home with a vroom. I swear, I could hear Jed laughing as I zoomed out of the parking lot, I could hear that low, knowing chuckle, making my skin tingle, my dick jerk reflexively.

  And it pissed me off. Here I am, master of the universe, rich as fuck, and yet absolutely miserable. I have money in gobs, and it does nothing. I have a beautiful wife, but she’s got a heart as black as coal. I’ve got a thriving law practice, and it gives me no real satisfaction. I love my work but shit, seventy hours a week, every week? And what the fuck was I gonna do now? Where was I gonna go? All I wanted to do was fuck my law partner, so suddenly work seemed dangerously off limits.

  Growling, I let myself in the front door with a slam, uncaring that Hannah was probably sleeping upstairs. God knows that woman had probably knocked herself out with all sorts of meds, she wasn’t gonna wake up even if Hurricane Sandy itself came calling. And stomping upstairs, I threw myself onto the couch, jerking my tie lose, big form sprawling carelessly across the upholstery. Fuck fuck fuck! I didn’t want to think about it and switched on the TV, letting the white noise drown out my thoughts, putting me to sleep.

  But a sudden bang woke me. What the fuck, was that a gunshot? Startled, my big form jerked upright on the couch, looking around. And sure enough, the sharp raps came again. Oh fuck, oh fuck, it was the front door. What the hell? What was going on? I looked at my watch and saw that it was four a.m., never a great time for someone to be knocking.

  Stumbling downstairs, I wrenched the heavy oak open, to reveal to cops in uniforms, expressions sober.

  “Mr. Jones?” one asked. “Are you Brian Jones?”

  I rubbed my face blearily, scrubbing my features.

  “Yeah, so what,” I grunted. “What’s this about,” I growled, more of a statement than a question.

  The cop whipped out his notebook.

  “Are you the spouse of Hannah Evelyn Jones?”

  “Yeah,” I said in a surly manner. “She’s upstairs sleeping. Why? What is this about?”

  I must have looked like an angry bear, expression dark, my suit rumpled. But evidently the police have done this before because he launched right into it.

  “Mr. Jones,” Cop One said, “We regret to inform you but your wife was found deceased earlier tonight. Your wife, Hannah Jones, was found deceased at 324 Lynwood Avenue.”

  My brows lowered. What the fuck? Where was that? The cop read my mind because he said, “324 Lynwood Avenue is also the address of the Courtside Country Club. Do you belong to the club?”

  I squinted, disbelieving, not hearing his words.

  “I’m sorry,” I said slowly. “Did I hear you right? Hannah’s dead? What the fuck are you talking about? She’s upstairs right now, sleeping in her own bed. What the fuck?”

  But evidently, the police have heard denials before, and both their heads shook slowly, pity in their eyes.

  “Mr. Jones,” the second cop tried this time. “Your wife, Hannah Jones, was found deceased at the Courtside Club at 324 Lynwood, just a couple blocks away. Now are you and your family a member of the club? Does Courtside sound familiar to you?”

  I shook my head, everything still in a blur.

  “Well yeah, I guess,” I grunted, still squinting. “But what does that have to do with anything? We have a membership and I never used it, Hannah went to get massages sometimes, maybe take some tennis lessons and hang out by the pool.”

  Both cops paused then, still standing on the stoop.

  “Mr. Jones,” began Cop Two again. “Your wife was found deceased in the presence of Jorge Ramirez, Courtside’s resident tennis pro.”

  Still, I didn’t get it.

  “So, like I said, she goes there for tennis lessons. Who is this Jorge dude?”

  Both cops looked at me, this time choosing their words carefully.

  “Your wife was found nude in the men’s locker room with Mr. Ramirez at her side,” he said. “Mr. Ramirez is the one who made the call to 9-1-1.”

  Now things were starting to penetrate the fog of my brain.

  “Give me just one sec,” I said. “Hold on, give me just one sec.”

  I shut the door in their faces and pounded up the stairs, sure that Hannah’s sleeping form would be there under the covers. But when I threw open the double doors to her suite, it was empty, the bed still made, satin coverlet untouched. What the hell? I stormed to her bathroom, flinging the door open, and even checked her walk-in closet. What the hell, where was she?

  And pounding through the house, I barreled into every room, even checking the garage. Sure enough, Hannah’s car was missing, the cute little pink Mini wasn’t in its allotted space. What the fuck? I roared, rage flooding my brain. So there was truth to the officers’ words, my wife had been at the country club at all hours while I worked, seeing her tennis pro for some reason or other.

  And slowly, I opened the front door again, my face a mask of livid anger.

  “What the hell,” I rumbled ominously. “What the hell.”

  Both officers jumped in then.

  “Sir, we can’t presume anything,” they said. “But it’s my duty to let you know that Mr. Ramirez made the call to 9-1-1, and your wife was found nude on the floor of the men’s locker room.”

  I paused for a moment, chest growing tight.

  “Where in the locker room?” I grunted.

  Both police officers didn’t answer for a second.

  “In the men’s shower,” said Cop One, as business-like as possible. “She and Mr. Ramirez were in the shower.”

  The full import of his words struck me then. Hannah had been banging her tennis instructor on the side like bored housewives do. It was stupid, so ludicrous, like straight out of some bad movie. As Mr. Husband works long hours, bringing home the bacon, spoiled suburban wife goes ape shit and begins banging the help. Sometimes it’s the FedEx guy, sometimes it’s the masseuse, but in this case, it was the Jorge Ramirez, her hot tennis instructor. They’d been fucking in the men’s locker room after hours, probably doing the nasty in the shower with the door locked, Hannah letting that oaf pummel her pussy and ass with his tennis racket. Yeah, my dirty whore of a wife had been getting it on with some poor hapless dude who was putty in her hands, absolutely powerless in the face of a determined, rich older woman.

  But instead of feeling betrayed, I felt liberated. A wave of sheer relief coursed over my form, like I’d been freed from a cage, like I was a Jack-In-The-Box who’d sprung out suddenly, able to get some air. Because Hannah had been nothing but a millstone around my neck, and with her gone, a weight had lifted. It’s sad to say this and morbid too, but I was actually kinda happy that my wife had died. Pretty fucked up, right? Under suspicious circumstances sure, but still. The bitch was gone, and I’d had nothing to do with it, my sagging shoulders straightening suddenly, a bounce to my walk once more.

  “I’m sorry officers,” I said, my voice low, giving nothing aw
ay. “But I’ll need to process this. Can I come to the station tomorrow morning?”

  Cop One flipped his notebook such.

  “Of course Mr. Jones,” he said respectfully. “We’re sorry for this news, in the middle of the night especially. Please come by at your convenience tomorrow, the sergeant will have more details.”

  And slowly, I closed the door after their departing forms. Holy shit, holy shit, this had been the night of nights. I’d lusted after my sister in law, dreaming of Angie’s barely legal teen twat. And then I’d stormed into work, spying on my law partner as he fucked our intern. But instead of being disgusted, I was actually lusting after Jared, wanting the alpha’s dick in me. And now Hannah was dead. Hannah was dead, dead, dead, dead as a doornail, and all I felt was a sense of freedom, that the bitch of a woman was gone. Sure, it sucked that she’d been cheating, but it was all so stupid, so lame and predictable. Of course she’d been cheating, Hannah’s no angel, she was getting cock elsewhere if it wasn’t from me. And wandering slowly up to my study, I let myself in, sitting woodenly on the overstuffed couch, staring at the TV that was still buzzing with tinny voices. Because my life had changed dramatically in one night … and all I could feel was excitement for the next chapter.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Jed

  That dirty motherfucker. That fucking filthy mofo. I wanted to beat Brian’s ass but granted, what happened between me and Vicky was wrong. The girl is all of eighteen and works for us, the naughty intern that all the dudes at the office want to fuck. Oh yeah, Vicky’s the help at Jones and White, with alleged dreams of becoming a lawyer one day. My ass. That girl’s got a bag of rocks for brains, her smartest move was offering her tits and twat to me after hours to keep her job, that’s what Vicky’s real purpose is.

  But still, my dirty interlude with the blonde busted through the wall between Brian and I because he caught us at it. And instead of sucking on those sweet tits or lapping at that tiny snatch, his eyes were all over me and my hard pole. Oh yeah, I know when another dude is interested, and for the last couple months, there have been waves of tension from Brian’s side of the office. I feel his eyes on me sometimes, only to shift away quickly, I can feel the tension in that hard frame, the way his fingers drum restlessly on the conference table, hard body stiff.