“Yes, I put her down on the application. Honesty is important in any relationship,” I gave Libra sad eyes. Honesty? From me? I can’t recall all the times I’ve looked into a girlfriend’s tearful gaze and said ‘No, I’m not seeing anyone else. I only have eyes for you.’ I learned that ‘only have eyes for you’ was a nice add-on when I turned 19. Hell, I’ve used those lines on three different girls in one night.
What can I say? I wanted to keep having sex with them.
“If you were seeing Marla, why did you sleep with Aunt Jeannine?” Libra groaned.
“I was bitter, angry and self-destructive,” I ‘confessed’. No, I was horny and she was a gorgeous, accessible MILF. Somewhere in the de-clothing process she threw out there that Uncle Whomever might be cheating on her. Worked for me.
“Do you regret that now?” Libra asked.
“Would you cheat on her again?” Brooke seethed.
“I regretted when I hit on Jeannine,” I admitted. “Marla didn’t deserve that.” Marla purred like a cute, happy kitten. “Would I cheat this time?” I let that hang out there.
“Yes… yes I would and that’s why I don’t want to give Marla and me another try until I’m a somewhat more reliable lover for her,” I sighed.
“But why!” Brooke screamed. She was starting to cry – again.
“I’m me, Brooke,” I shrugged. “Not only can I not say ‘no’, I can rarely say ‘maybe later’.”
Humor, blame acceptance (I’m a dog) and yet ‘not my fault because slutty girls hit on me’.
“How can men be so heartless?” Brooke choked back another sob.
“There are good guys out there,” I assured Brooke. Libra edged closer. Brooke moved to the edge of the bed. I reached behind my back, grabbed a pillow and put it on my lap.
See, by covering up my crotch I was being considerate of Brooke’s sensibilities, proving, despite EVERY other piece of evidence indicating I was out for sex, I was only here for moral support.
“You approached your relationship with honesty and clear intentions. Trent wanted nothing more than to use you to pad his portfolio,” I continued.
“Face it, you’re beautiful, smart, cultured and have the best education,” I said. I hadn’t a clue how good Vassar was, or how well Brooke had done there. Also, call attractive women beautiful; they like the boost. Call beautiful women smart; it is not a complement they normally get. “You were the perfect choice.” Brooke was eating it up.
“I’m not the perfect choice?” Libra nudged me.
“You are from New England, Libra. Trent is from New York and was looking for a Southern girl to make himself look more cosmopolitan,” I appeared deeply serious. That bit was total bullshit. I had no clue about the geopolitics of the top 1%.
As far as I knew about Trent, he was already too inbred with all the New York families, so a girl from Virginia was a safe bet for children with the appropriate number of fingers and toes. To be fair, Brooke was better looking than Libra, or Marla, but nothing short of torture would make me say that.
“Yeah,” Libra mused, “Trent was always so superficial about that – but never in front of you Brooke,” she added.
“I hate that I’m only finding all these horrible things about him now,” Brooke screwed up her face. She sat on the bed, was clearly uncomfortable – with the comforter – and then pushed farther onto the bed until she was next to my strategically placed pillow. Whatever animal I am identified with, the general consensus is that I’m a terribly lucky member of the breed.
Marla spotted Brooke’s move and decided that a little bit of demarcation was in order. She snaked a hand und the pillow and began stroking my phallus. Marla was my bed-buddy. We had a history. She was also the youngest and the little sister of one of the other combatants. Rich, pretty, petty girls don’t share well – why should they?
The doorbell rang. That would be the liquor store that made home deliveries… I had clearly been living in the wrong part of the world most of my life.
“Marla, go get the door,” Libra commanded. “It is a delivery.”
“Why?” Marla protested. “I’m the only one naked.” What was I then? Wearing a pillow?
“Consider it a tip for the delivery boy,” Libra teased her sister wickedly. “Or, would you rather stay in a hotel tonight?” Marla muttered ‘bitch’ as she slipped to the foot of the bed then left. It was time to hasten the undressing process.
“I need to go to the bathroom and… clean up,” I told Libra.
“Right around the corner,” she smiled. I brushed against Brooke as I left, pillow in place, and limped down the hall. The delivery boy wasn’t a problem. It was a girl, around 160 cm and 44 kg – a little thing with a hand truck and a case of whatever.
“Hi,” she waved shyly.
I had to wonder why she wasn’t more freaked out about a man wearing a pillow edging out of one room and down the hall. The look I was getting wasn’t your normal reaction. I felt really bad for myself that I’d never get promoted to a lifestyle what would allow this thing to be common place. Wait – my cock had something to say; reality and cranium be damned.
“Hey Sexy,” I smiled at her. “When do you get off work?”
“Dammit Cael, I’m standing right here!” Marla snapped. The girl looked from the naked chick who was signing for the order then back to me – the almost naked guy.
“Ah… this might not be a good time,” the deliver girl hesitated.
“I know this looks bad, but nothing is going on. I have a girl who is a friend and her guy dumped her today so we’re just doing a little commiserating,” I perjured myself.
“I didn’t drive like a maniac down here for only one round of sex, Mister,” Marla announced.
“Oh – okay then,” she turned to Marla. “I’m sorry about your break up… Ms. Chalmers.”
“Ms. Chalmers is my sister,” Marla stared at the girl somewhat impatiently.
“Well then, I’m sorry for your sister’s unfortunate romantic entanglement,” the girl backpedalled.
“My sister didn’t get dumped. It was her best friend, Brooke,” Marla explained.
The service girl looked back at me, somewhat in awe.
“How many women do you have back there?” she motioned to the bedroom.
“Two,” shouted Libra. “Now give me my tequila. I want to be drunk before I fuck this guy.”
“Aaahhh,” Delivery girl looked even more confounded. “Is there a problem?”
“Ah, no. I’m simply not in their social class… and I sort took her little sister’s virginity,” I said.
“That would be me,” Marla glared at the plebian – the one who wasn’t me.
“And her aunt,” I completed.
“At the same time?” the girl gasped.
“No…” my interest was piqued by that vision though.
“NO!” yelled Marla. “He’s fucking me – again, and my sister and her best friend tonight. Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?” she stared at the working stiff.
“You don’t look like the average boy-toy,” D-Girl was clearly taunting Marla now.
“I’m not. I’m property of a tribe of Amazons who use me for target practice,” I joked. Oddly enough, it was the truth but I didn’t expect her to believe that. “These are just some chicks I met at a bar – expect for Marla. I met her at college where she schooled me to a whole new level of ecstasy.” That made Marla smug and happy.
“You – go,” Marla barked to D-Girl. “Where are you going?” she questioned me.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I told her.
“Fine, but don’t go jumping out of the window like you did last time I saw you,” Marla warned me.
“Wow… we are on the seventeenth floor,” I sighed. “I really don’t want you to scream and throw books at me yet I think plummeting to my death would still be my primary concern.”
“Fine,” D-Girl shrugged. “I’m going.” She rolled her hand-truck to the door. Before Marla could shut it. “Nice to meet you…” Having a rather unique name rocks. I’ve been warned that come Paternity Suit time, it won’t be nearly so cool.
“Cael Nyilas,” I waved good-bye. “N-Y-I-L-A-S.” Marla slammed the door shut then put her back to it.
“You are reprehensible,” she gave me the sultriest purr. Yeah, I was a bad, bad boy and those three were going to spank me with their kitties to put me in my place. Life can be thankless, demanding and unrewarding at times… I’m sure that will happen to me eventually. I stumped off to the bathroom, dropped my (unused) rubber in the trash, washed up, didn’t find lube but massage oil would do for tonight and returned to the bedroom.
Oh my God! All their clothes had fallen off! What was I to do? Libra was in the middle, Brooke was closest to me, and Marla was unhappily on the far side of Libra. All were resting their upper backs and heads against the headboard. Brooke was drinking ‘my’ Scotch, Libra had her tequila, leaving Marla with a Bordeaux.
I put the pillow down by the foot of the bed, slipping my oily lubricant underneath the pillow. That was for later. I crawled
ulled myself up the middle. Libra was polite, if not sincere.
“Take care of Brooke first,” Libra said.
“I’d rather show her some things and let her decide what she likes,” I countered.
Yes. I was telling Libra I was going to use her body as a surrogate fuck-toy to amuse her friend and by the look in her eyes, she was all for it.
“I really don’t want to have sex right now anyway,” Brooke lied. In sex, only the top lips lie. An un-coaxed vagina glistening with arousal is about as honest a plea for sex there is.
I deftly slipped on my next condom before ‘tripping’ and landing my chin on Libra’s stomach.
“Whoops,” I grinned at her. She gave me a famished look. “Well, since I’m here,” I eyebrow-pumped. My body backed up enough so that I was even with her labia. Keeping eye contact with Libra, I took my first tongue stab – rolling the tongue and penetrating her vagina like a mini-cock. Her lips parted and her chest inhaled deeply.