A Conspiracy of Sluts Ch. 02

Author's note: This is the second part of a five part novella. Each chapter is devoted to a different category of erotica: i.e. lesbian, group, interracial, BDSM, exhibitionism/voyeur (in that order). Although the five parts constitute a complete story I have tried to write each chapter so it could be enjoyed stand-alone as well (although I prefer you read the whole thing of course). I will post each chapter about a week apart. Enjoy!

Paige and Marie reluctantly untangled their bodies and dragged themselves from the bed. Their limbs were feeble with after-sex rubberiness; their minds were giddy. They had to support each other as they made their unsteady, giggling way to Paige's bathroom.

They made love again in the shower. Afterwards, they made love in Paige's easy chair, then on the counter in the kitchen and, finally, in bed again. At last they collapsed, exhausted and panting in the sex-infused air, pledging to reignite their passion as soon as they caught their breaths. But when Paige woke hours later with the weak light from the alley seeping in through her bedroom window, Marie was gone.

It was nearly eleven in the morning. Paige got up and poked around the apartment, checking to see if Marie was really gone. She found a note taped to the bathroom mirror, written in loopy, oversized handwriting. It said: "Sorry to play Wham-Bam-Thank-You-Ma'am but I have someplace I need 2 B this AM. I had a GREAT time!!! We should TOTALLY do it again. Call me! Luv – M." At the bottom of the note, she had drawn a happy face with its tongue out.

One of Marie's business cards was tucked into the frame of the mirror. It said: "Marie MacDougall - Human Resources: Special Projects – Oreskos Incorporated." Then it listed Marie's phone numbers and email. Paige happily kissed the card and tucked it safely into her purse. She carefully folded the note, put it in an envelope and put the envelope in the drawer of her night stand, next to her vibrator.

She drifted around her apartment in a confused but pleasant daze. "I had sex with a woman," she said aloud to herself several times, each time with a different emotion: confused, amazed, panicked, proud. She wanted to call someone. She wanted to tell someone about her amazing night in lengthy and vivid detail but she trembled at the idea of revealing she was now, apparently, bi-sexual. She sat down at her laptop and wrote down everything she could recall, not skimping on any lurid, pornographic detail in an attempt to purge her confusion. It a way, it worked. An aching horniness took its place.

How different this Saturday morning was from a week ago, after her night with Doug. That night had begun with a bunch of people from her department taking her out to celebrate her first full week back at work after her long, near-fatal illness. Somehow Doug ended up with their group. He kept buying her wine. He kept telling her how pretty she was. Paige, stupid, lonely fool that she was, ate it up like a hungry puppy. When he suggested they go back to his apartment she had agreed.

He had been all over her the second they walked through the door. She hadn't resisted. He'd fucked her on the couch, throwing her down, pulling her clothes off and climbing onto her. She'd climaxed embarrassingly easy. He repositioned her; taking her from behind; then putting her on his lap and pushing his cock up inside her as he fondled her breasts; then he had her on her side as he clutched her leg to his chest and sucked her toes. She had come and come and come.

Then he had started playing with her butt, rubbing slick, chilly gel into her tender pucker, prying her open as he whispered gentle encouragements to her. Her panic began to rise but she was determined to be a good sport. As he slowly fed his huge cock into her bottom she had grimaced and moaned but, she had to admit, it felt good in a sick way. But he too had already come several times by then and he ended up doing her ass for a long, long time. Too long. When he fell asleep immediately afterwards, Paige gathered up her stuff and slipped away, her ass growing sorer by the minute and her knees and elbows seared from rug burn.

There had been no happy glow the morning afterthatnight, only pain and shame. However, her lust was now so inflamed from dwelling on her night with the petite Asian firecracker that was Marie MacDougall that she was almost ready to call Doug and give him another chance.

But no. She knew she wasn't thinking clearly. She needed to calm her mind. Some exercise would be good. She would walk the stairs.

She got together her usual gear for her stair-walking regimen: sneakers, tee-shirt, sweatpants, a twisty to gather her hair into a ponytail, her can of mace and her police whistle. She looked at herself in the full length mirror before leaving the apartment. Staring back was the now-familiar skinny stranger's head poking up out of her baggy old pre-illness fat-clothes. She sighed, wishing she'd taken the time to buy herself some cute little shorts and a maybe a tight tank-top. But then she thought of those two rude boys following her and Marie down the sidewalk last night. She shuddered. Why invite trouble?

"Pathetic," she said to her reflection before she turned to leave. She grabbed her phone and slammed the door on the way out.

Out in the hall, a pretty, dark-skinned black girl with a triangular face and a short afro was standing outside the elevators talking on her phone. She glanced at Paige, carefully checking her out before turning away.

Paige put in her earbuds, plugged them into her phone and pulled up one of her favorite albums for exercising – The Avalanches, it had a great tempo - as she headed down the hall to the nearest stair door. Before entering the stairs she threw another look at the pretty black girl by the elevators. She caught the other woman staring right at her. Paige hadn't hit play yet so she heard the woman say: "No, thewestone... Rightnow."

As Paige pushed though the door she paused to consider: was this stairwell the west one? In fact it was, she realized. That girl wasn't taking about her, was she? Paige shook her head. That's silly. She was just being paranoid.

Paige began her usual route: up to the always-locked roof access door then down the always-locked sub-basement access door: eleven stories, repeated twice. Her thighs ached a little after last night's energetic frolic but she pushed on, letting the pain focus her mind as it pulsed through her.

Descending now, her calves protested as she bounced down one step at a time. She had hit her rhythm, the balls of her feet hitting the steps in time with the music, and had just passed the door for the sixth floor when a whiff of cannabis smoke reached her. Nervous, she stopped as she hit the landing. There below her, just inside the door for the fifth floor, were two men passing a joint between them. They looked up at her sheepishly.

Paige's first thought surprised her.I wish I'd worn shorts.

They were about her age or maybe a little older; early thirties, tops. One had dark hair, dark eyes and bushy eyebrows that obviously required regular maintenance to keep it from becoming a single brow. The other was a dirty blond with sleepy eyes and a deep cleft in his chin. Both wore sleeveless tee-shirts and cargo shorts. Both had thick necks and meaty arms decorated with an assortment of tribal tattoos.

"Oh!" said Paige.

The dark haired guy hid the joint behind his back and coughed out a dense cloud of smoke. The blond guy merely said: "Oh shit."

"I don't mean to cause any trouble," said Paige hurriedly.

"You sure?" grinned the blond guy as the dark guy continued coughing. "You look like a troublemaker to me."

Paige retreated one step while reaching into her pocket for her mace. "I was just getting some exercise..."

The dark one barked out one last cough. "You go all the way up and down?" he asked mildly as he looked her over with watery eyes.

"Um, yeah. Four reps," she said, lying.

"That's pretty tight," said the blond. "I bet you have some great definition in those legs, huh?"

"Shit dude, can't you see we've already made her nervous. Don't fuckin' ogle her."

"Sorry lady. I didn't mean nothin' by that."

"Oh, it's OK. I'm just not used to finding company in here." Paige relaxed. The guys didn't seem like predators, just harmless stoner-jocks.

"My old geezer neighbor said he'd call the cops if he ever smelled me firing up in my apartment again," said the dark haired guy. "So now I gotta sneak off to the stairway to blaze; like being back in fuckin' school or something."

"Don't worry about it," said Paige as she began drifting down the stairs toward the guys. They weren't bad looking guys though neither was particularly handsome, but –OH! - the bodies on those two. They were obviously total barbell-nerds. "I'm just passing through."

"Hey," said the dark one. "I didn't mean to be rude. You wanna hit?" He held out the joint.

Paige had smoked occasionally in college but got bored with it. She raised her hand to wave off his offer. But as she looked into the dark-complexioned meathead's surprisingly beautiful chestnut-brown eyes she found she had changed her mind.

"Yeah... OK," she said.

It was a fat joint, more of a spliff really. She took a light toke and passed the thing along to the blond dude. In the corner of her eye she could see dark guy peering at her baggy clothes as if he could deduce the contours of her body from the way the fabric hung off her frame.

"By the way, I'm Tony," he said. "That's Neil."

Neil nodded a hello as he continued to hold his breath.

Paige exhaled. She felt a little loopy already. "Paige. Hi."

The joint came around to Paige again and she took a little bigger toke. She decided that would be plenty. She would put off her stair walking until later and take the elevator up to her apartment to chill out. Maybe she'd watch a movie or something. A little herb was probably the best thing for her overwrought mind. Then the roach was in her hand again and she decided one more lungful would be nice. Before she knew it the joint was gone and Paige had lost track of how much she smoked. She felt light-headed and very goofy.

"Wow. It's been a while," she laughed. It felt like both her pupils were on the same eyeball.

"You going to be OK to walk these stairs?" said Neil. "That's some mighty kind bud you just smoked."

"No. I think I'm done for now. Might watch an old movie or something..."

"Hey! We were gonna watch a movie too," said Neil. "You wanna join us."

Paige laughed. This was unreal. Suddenly she couldn't turn around without some guy inviting her to his place. She opened her mouth to make an excuse but her mind went blank. It was just easier to say: "OK."

"Awesome," said Tony with a slow nod. His face lit up in a toothy smile.

She followed them out into the hall, down past the elevators, back to Tony's apartment. His was one of the dinky one-bedroom set-ups just like hers, but with a mirror image layout. Framed sports posters hung on the walls: Rangers, 76ers, Red Sox, Yankees, Knicks, Lakers, Jets, Giants, Cowboys... It seemed like an oddly unfocused collection; most sports fans she knew were devoted on a particular team or sport, maybe two. Also, the place was surprisingly neat; not that she hadn't known tidy sports fans, but she'd never known a tidy stoner.

"It's hot in here," she said, because it was.

"That fuckin' geezer next door always keeps his heat maxed out. That shit seeps right through the wall. I gotta walk around my own apartment with my shirt off most of the time, even in winter."

"Are you trying to get me to take my shirt off?" she teased with a goofy, stoned laugh.

"No, I was just warning you. We'll probably take ours off."

"But if you want to take yours off we won't complain," said Neil with a wolfish grin.

"Jesus, Neil," said Tony. "Chill the fuck out."

"I don't mind," said Paige as she sat and positioned herself demurely on the middle cushion of the couch. She was feeling silly, euphoric even. She was enjoying playing the coquette. "You can go ahead and take your shirts off if you need to."

They looked at each other and shrugged. Off came the shirts. Oh God they both had such beautiful torsos. Paige swallowed heavily as she felt herself go wet.

"You want a beer?" asked Tony.

"You have wine?"

"I think I got a couple of wine coolers. I don't know what flavor. Lemme look." Tony took two steps and was in the kitchen area. He squatted down and started rummaging around the refrigerator.

"I'll be right back," said Neil as he stepped into the toilet and shut the door behind him.

"Since you're my guest, why don't you pick out a movie?" said Tony without turning away from the interior of the fridge. "There's a stack of them on the bookcase in the other room if you want to take a look."

Paige got up and went to the other room: the bedroom. The bed was king sized. It barely fit the room. She had to walk sideways to get around the foot of the bed to the short, mostly bookless bookcase. There were a dozen violent moves – "Commando", "The Wild Bunch", "Saving Private Ryan", "Transformers", et cetera – splayed out on the top shelf; nothing that was really her cup of tea. The bottom row of shelves was enclosed behind doors of smoky glass. The thin spines of more movie boxes showed through indistinctly. She opened the doors and began reading the titles. – "M.M.F. Angels", "Daddy's Double Penetration Princess", "All-Amateur 3-Way Junkies", "Bukakke All-Stars 6", et cetera, et cetera.

She closed the doors. It suddenly felt alothotter in there. She plucked at her baggy tee-shirt to give the sweat forming on her skin some room to evaporate. Paige opened the smoky-glassed doors again and looked at the selection of pornos.What the hell is bukakke?She wondered. She pulled out the box and figured it out immediately from the picture. She put it back quickly and instinctually wiped her hands on her sweatpants.Gross!

Tony's voice called from the other room. "I got three raspberry wine coolers: two strawberry and a cranberry."

"Cranberry please," she shouted absently as she pulled out a box labeled "Two Cocks per Slut". She looked at the lurid photos on the box: plastic looking women squeezed between two men with their cocks disappearing somewhere into their nethers. Or so one would imagine. Tiny, pink starbursts barely censored out the points of penetration on the cover graphics. You'd have to watch the video to see the "good stuff", apparently. How stupid.

Ridiculous or not, Paige was breathing heavy now, her body dripping sweat. Damn, it washotin there. She looked over her shoulder to the bedroom doorway. She jumped to her feet when she found Tony and Neil framed in the entry, looking down at her with big grins lighting up their faces.

"Got something picked out?" Tony asked.

Paige looked down at her hand. She was still holding the box for "Two Cocks per Slut." She looked back towards Tony and Neil. Their bare, muscular chests were glossy with a fine layer of sweat.

Paige gulped and bit her lip. She tried to hide the porno behind her back without looking like she was hiding a porno behind her back. "I... Uh...," she said. Her voice sounded weak and far away to her.

"Lemme see what you've got there," said Tony as he stepped past the foot of the bed and reached around Paige to take the box from her hand. She tried to twist away but he was quick for such a big guy. He grabbed it and yanked it from her fingers. After giving the box a quick glance, he showed it to Neil. Neil grinned eagerly.

"That look good to you?"

"It looks... um...interesting..." she said weakly.

What the fuck am I doing?Paige screamed to herself in her mind. Looking into the faces of the two strange men now blocking her exit she could see the expectation in their eyes. She went to take a step back but came up against the bookcase close behind. She thought of Marie stripping down and attacking her; tying her down to her own bed last night. How had Marie known she would go along? What would she have done if Paige has said no? She thought of the confidence such an action would require. How could she ever hope to approximate such courage, such poise...?

Then, before she knew what she was even doing, Paige had taken the bottom of her baggy tee-shirt in her trembling hands and pulled it up over her head. Standing in the sweltering room, feeling exposed in her ratty old bra, she looked at the two leering strangers with a whimper caught in her throat. They stared at her chest without pretense.

"Damn," exhaled Tony. "I wondered if you might be hiding something under that baggy shirt, but...DamnPaige! You're fuckin' hot!"

"Those sweatpants ain't doin' her any favors," said Neil with a suggestive arch of his brow.

Paige's hands were trembling as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her sweat pants and eased them down her hips. Her breath was coming fast and shallow as she kicked off her sneakers and stepped out of her pants. She stood looking at the two men with terrified but eager eyes as they inspected her body, now clad only in her simple cotton panties and bra.

The guys started pulling at their belts and pushing their jeans and boxers down their legs. There was no showmanship to their disrobing; they just got naked – fast. Their penises were half flaccid, but as they moved closer to Paige she could see them twitch as they grew wider, longer and more rigid.

"I... I..." stammered Paige. "I usually don't do this sort of thing. Well,ever...actually."

"That's OK Paige. We won't mind if you suck at it," said Neil.

"Yeah. We'll do all the work. You just relax and get some practice," said Tony.

They moved closer. Paige began to panic silently. Did she really want to fuck two strangers!?Together!?She pressed the backs of her legs to the bookcase as they moved up next to her, one on either side.

"We'll start you off slow, don't worry," purred Tony. His arm looped behind her and his hand cupped the small of her back, applying gentle pressure, easing her towards the bed.

"I..."

"Why don't you sit down?" asked Neil. He turned her around and placed a hand on her shoulder. With firm pressure he eased her ass onto the mattress.

It was a low bed. Sitting on it, her head came level with the upper abdomen of the two naked strangers. Their cocks were nearly hard now. They watched her looking at their proud members bobbing eagerly before her. They smiled down at her.

"What you want to do with those?" asked Neil.

Paige looked up into their leering, expectant faces. Her eyes were wide with trepidation. How do you tell two guys "never mind" at a time like this?

"Come on, don't be scared," said Tony.

Paige reached up and took their pricks in her hands. She gave them each a light, testing stroke. They reacted enthusiastically, growing firmer, larger. She leaned forward, her mouth open. Fingers laced into her hair to guide her head down. The tip of Neil's cock kissed her lightly as it brushed her lips. His pelvis rocked forward, pushing it past her lips and back along her tongue. She felt him reach the fullness of his erection as the rim of his glans rocked gratefully against her tongue and palate. She closed her eyes and lapped at it wetly. Soon he withdrew and Tony took his place. They began taking turns, one pumping her mouth as the other rubbed and slapped his cock across her face, leaving thin smears of pre-cum and her own saliva. A hungry groan escaped Paige's throat.

"Oh, fuck yeah... Suck our cocks, Paige."

"Yeah... Take it deep, girl."

Their voices were rasping grunts. Their hands plucked at her bra straps, slipping them off her shoulders. Tony exposed her breasts, pushed them together and squatted before her to thread his shaft into the warm crease of her cleavage. Neil leaned her head back and continued to pump a slow fuck along her tongue. Paige dropped her hand to her belly and slipped her fingers into her panties. Her fingers brushed her clit, teased along her lips. Oh God, she was so wet. Paige heard herself moan lividly.