One Twisted Valentine (4 page)

Looking at Brooke’s mouth closed so snug to Peter’s
cock as she sucked, Eva could see her lipstick leaving another ring
around Peter’s cock at the final depth she was able to bring him
into her mouth and throat.

The thought of her blowing him alone in this
apartment as Eva made her way over set an explosion off in her mind
and thoughts. They had all talked about being able to show each
other affection if one of the three were missing. In fact Eva and
Brooke had stolen kisses and fingering strokes while on a shopping
trip the week after Christmas. Peter had exploded inside Eva when
she whispered the details of her and Brooke’s lustful interludes
while he railed her in bed the following evening.

But knowing Brooke had been so good to him, so
naughty but so perfect for the wifely role Eva asked her to play
made it impossible for Eva to hold herself back. She needed them
both, now.

“Please,” Eva said, almost a sob. “Please let me be
with you.”

Brooke slid down one last time, bringing Peter so far
into her mouth her nose brushed the tangle of hair at the base of
his cock. Pulling up, his skin distorting with the suction, Brooke
lifted her mouth from Peter. She turned to Eva. Her eyes opened
slowly through the languor of her delight she felt servicing
Peter’s desire. Eva could see Brooke’s face and lips were red, wet,
full with faint smears of lipstick on her chin and cheek.

“Come here,” Brooke said, standing up. “Make yourself
naked and come here.”

Eva pulled the straps of her dress from her
shoulders, and grabbed the fabric at her hips, pulling down with
everything she had. The dress, still zipped, came down slowly,
distorting around her body as she desperately pulled. Eva felt
something give at the back, no doubt the zipper tearing open. She
could not care in her impatience to get free. She tugged at the
fabric, tearing it off her body, feeling her breasts slip out as
the tight dress finally came loose.

Eva felt the relief in a fog. While she freed
herself, Brooke put a knee on the cushion beside Peter and threw a
leg over his lap. Dancing from one leg to another, Eva worked the
dress down her thighs, hooking her thumbs into her panties so every
thread separating her body from her lovers fell to the floor. With
every shake of her hip, she kept her eyes on Brooke and Peter.

“This is what we do when we’re alone,” Brooke said.
“This is what we do when we’re waiting for a woman to share.”

Her hand disappeared into the dim shadows between her
pelvis and Peter’s shaft. Brooke looked at Eva as she shifted Peter
under her. Eva could not see Peter slip into Brooke but she knew
the moment it happened. An imperceptible tension on Brooke’s face
relaxed, her pupils widened. She could see the focus leave Brooke’s
gaze as her body slowly descended onto Peter’s cock. As she sank,
he plunged, inch by inch, up through her wet lips.

She let out a beautiful, thankful, wordless sound.
Brooke’s eyes closed as she channeled every attention towards the
sensations consuming her. Extending a hand to Eva, she beckoned
with a few quick, beautiful curling motions of her thin, delicate
fingers.

As though a leash had been dropped, Eva slid down the
sofa, standing on her knees beside her two lovers. Her thighs
straddled one of Brooke’s legs as Brooke began to rock her hips
back and forth on Peter’s filling cock. The sounds of eager and
pleasured breath came from Peter and Brooke. The feeling of
Brooke’s legs open and straddling Peter while Eva’s legs were open
and straddling one of Brooke’s fleshy thighs was exquisite. They
all moved as one, each working to bring pleasure to the others.

Finally, Brooke’s eyes opened and her beckoning hand
slid around Eva’s neck and pulled her in. She kissed Eva with a
reckless thirst, her impulse blurred somewhere between hunger and
relief. Eva put one hand around the small of Brooke’s lower back
and could feel the motion of her hips as they fed on Peter.

With Brooke’s searching kisses, the motion of her
body on Peter radiating out through the cushions, Eva steadied
herself by putting her other hand on Peter’s back and shoulder.

As she and Brooke continued to kiss, Eva ground her
wet lips to the flexing muscles of Brooke’s thigh. She could feel
Brooke’s control crack. The hunger in Brooke’s kisses, in her
fingers clutching the back of Eva’s neck, in her submitting grunts
and moans, it was like she was pouring her lust over Eva’s body,
over Peter’s lap, her desires wetting and licking every inch of
skin she could touch. She was done teasing, readying to pull Eva
over the edge of satisfaction to join her with Peter.

While her dripping lips pressed harder to Brooke’s
rippling thigh, Eva let out a begging groan. Far from satisfying
the buzzing need rising in her clit, the contact with Brooke’s
smooth skin satisfied her need for friction only enough to reveal
Eva needed more to get satisfaction.

The three of them shifted there for long moments,
lost in a rapture of satisfying lust. As Eva pecked her way down
Brooke’s chin to bring the soft skin of Brooke’s throat to her
lips, she felt Peter open his mouth against the back of her own
neck. Feeling her husband finally give a touch for her alone
brought out a groan from her lungs that was trapped loudly against
Brooke’s neck and breasts.

Still grinding on Brooke’s leg, feeling a fever of
heat from Peter’s kisses, Eva sank lower and pulled Brooke’s hard
nipple against her tongue. Closing her mouth hard, Eva pinched the
stiff skin between her lips, drawing a cry of surprise and sharp
pleasure from Brooke’s gaping mouth. Brooke’s groans and cries
mounted, getting higher and harder with each undulation of her
pussy on Peter’s dripping cock.

As she began rising and hammering herself down onto
him, Brooke grabbed Eva’s wrist and brought her hand to the heated
spot where Brooke’s drenched lips stretched around Peter’s
shaft.

“This?” Brooke said as a promise and a taunt. “Is
this what you want?”

“Oh, yes,” Eva said, lifting her mouth from the wet
sheen her tongue left on Brooke’s nipple. Eva’s face was warm,
cupped between Brooke’ breasts and Peter’s chest. Brooke dropped
her lips to Eva’s ear as Eva’s mouth closed back over her other
nipple.

“Uhhh…. Help me finish and you can have this,” Brooke
said. She closed her fingers around Eva’s hand, forcing Eva’s own
fingers to curl around the root of Peter’s wet shaft as Brooke slid
up and down. Eva’s own sound of approval and thanks was lost as a
hum vibrating through Brooke’s taut nipple.

“You can have every inch of him,” Brooke hissed in an
uneven tone. Her grinding body, her rising pleasure, her consuming
need all tore at her ability to control what she had been
controlling all night.

Sucking hard on Brooke’s nipple, Eva slid down the
arm she had around Brooke’s back, cupping Brooke’s firm ass. At the
same time, she let go of Peter’s cock and parted her fingers
against Brooke’s engorged, hard clit. Her fingers were dripping
from the wetness Brooke gave off, sliding easily on either side of
Brooke’s fleshy hood.

Eva’s mouth on her nipple, Eva and Peter’s hands
squeezing her ass, Eva’s fingers thrumming her clit, Brooke began
to lose it. Her living room rang out with the sound of her body
moving wetly on Peter, her skin pressing and sliding against Eva,
her lungs crying out long and loud as the orgasm closed over her,
filling every nerve with wet, warm, full pleasure.

Rolling through wave after wave of pleasure, Brooke
tried to speak but succeeded only in giving delirious, relieving
sobs.

“Thank you,” she finally managed, kissing Peter. Then
she turned to Eva, drawing a finger down her cheek in a tender
gesture. “Oh thank you.”

Returned to herself, Brooke finally lifted herself
off. Before she drew away, she whispered in Eva’s ear.

“Take this,” Brooke said, guiding Eva’s hand and
pressing it to the barrel of Peter’s wet cock. “I want you to have
him. I want him to have you.”

With that, Brooke took a step back and dropped
herself into stuffed leather chair beside the couch. In the soft
orange light of the fire her body was a glistening series of
beautiful s-shaped curves and swells. Eva looked at her, a
beautiful image of satisfied relaxation. Brooke looked back at her
through half-closed eyes.

“Eva,” Brooke said.

“Yes?”

“I want you to fuck my husband,” Brooke said, a
twisted grin still showing through her sated features.

Tentatively, Eva looked to Peter. Somehow the spell
of the fantasy had not faded. She saw him as her husband and a
stranger, as an old friend and a wonderful new prize.

For a brief moment, Peter looked on her as his wife,
some secret assurance he was still all hers under the layers of
fanciful lust and fervor. Silently, he told her he loved her in the
secret language of subtle looks and motions she and Peter, alone,
understood. In the intoxicating tumult of the night, even though
Eva had asked for it all, the silent reassurance was a comfort.

Then he closed his hand around her arm at the elbow
and tugged. Eva could see he wanted her climb onto him. In an
instant he had reassumed the role of Brooke’s husband wanting to
finally try the woman they chose to share.

Somehow shy before Peter, Eva bit her lip as she
looked down and slid a leg over Peter’s wet lap. Settling herself,
her eyes lifted to Peter and a shroud of desire wrapped around her.
All she could see in him was a lust for her. That’s all she wanted.
Her legs straddling his lap, she could feel the emptiness within
her, the coming satisfaction lurking under her as he shifted
himself to enter.

As she hovered over his stiff core, Peter glared at
her. Not cruel or mean, but sure and demanding. She was not going
to be allowed to give herself. He was going to claim her. He put a
hand on the back of her neck as they looked at each other, eye to
eye. His fingers were wet and Eva could smell Brooke on him. His
other hand disappeared between them. After a moment, she felt his
cock move under her, the stiff head, like a hard drum of flesh,
brushing wetly up her tender thigh.

Eva felt his skin, still wet from Brooke, move into
place and she could feel the delicious curve at the very head of
his shaft brush apart her inner lips. Then there was nothing else
to wait for.

The hand of the back of her neck clamped shut and
urged her down. Eva descended, collapsed, submitted, surrendered.
She let out a long, prayerful cry as her body dropped and his
pelvis lifted. She wailed with every inch of him sliding into her.
She felt a grateful tear trace a line down her cheek as his hard,
velvety head came to rest at her G-spot deep inside. The last
barrier gone, she pressed her lips to his.

Even though in reality she had just left him this
morning, kissing him as they parted ways, her lips on him now felt
like the first kiss of a lifetime. His mouth was firm, as she
always loved it, his tongue rich and warm and filling, as it always
had been, but now it was new. For this moment he was someone else’s
husband, in someone else’s apartment, being given to her like a
gift.

Eva opened her mouth against Peter’s, trying to get
more of him into her, licking his tongue with her own as his pelvis
lifted up, filling her, over and over and over. Some part of her
mind marveled at his amazing stiffness, at the different feeling he
gave her as he slid in aided by Brooke’s wetness. As she fucked
Peter, Eva felt happier, dirtier and more loved than she ever
had.

“Fuck, I love watching him with you,” Brooke said
from the chair beside them. “I like it when he pleases other women,
when he shows them what a fucking stud he is.”

His cock giving her powerful, luxurious strokes from
underneath, Eva pried her eyes open to see Brooke in the chair
beside them. Even though Brooke was satisfied only moments before,
Eva’s mouth went dry with what she saw.

Brooke had one leg draped over the fat arm of the
leather chair, her fingers making wet undulations along the length
of her pussy, the heel of her hand mashing gently to her clit. Her
other hand, wet from sweat and her own dew, stretched one nipple
out between pinched fingers.

Just as Eva’s amazement at Brooke’s display rushed
through her, Peter’s fingers pinched her chin and forced her face
back to him. His eyes were fierce and claiming on her. Eva knew she
was his until he was done. His hips lifted higher and harder off
the sofa. In his thrusts, she could feel his need consuming the
power and purpose of every muscle in his body.

Through his pounding, she forced her eyes to stay
open, stay on his, to show Peter she was his. She wrapped her arms
around him and held him, kissing the sweat from his brow as he
fucked her. Eva could smell his sweat, smell herself on him, smell
the remains of Brooke. With his cock impaling her with ramming,
stretching thrusts, Eva could no longer keep her eyes open. She
pinched them shut against the sharpening sensations, nestling her
head between his shoulder and chin, sobbing out her pleasure in
ragged breaths across his skin.

“Fuck me, baby,” Eva whispered through his grunts.
“Fuck me like I’m yours. She loves to watch you fuck me. I love to
be fucked for her, for you.”

Peter thrust up harder but gave a yell of
frustration. She knew his power and knew the angle of the couch
would not allow him to get at her as he liked. In desperation, he
curled his arms under hers. His palms curled up so he could clamp
her shoulders from behind. With her secured, he yanked her down
hard as his hips jutted up. Eva gulped at the fierce action and for
a moment was unable to make a sound.

“Get on your fucking hands and knees,” Peter snarled
into her ear. Another tear fell from Eva’s eye as she lifted
herself and he slipped from inside. Something in the swelter of
images and sensations, of the fantasy, the night and the reality of
their relationships was kindling a high fire of lust and
emotion.