Joyce, Across the Street Ch. 03

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I work at getting Sheila involved in our little trysts.
3.8k words
4.36
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Part 3 of the 4 part series

Updated 09/25/2022
Created 09/30/2008
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Chaingun
Chaingun
56 Followers

"...Without a word, I stood up in front of her. The blanket, which now was around my shoulders, came with me, exposing her again. My cock waved back and forth in front of me as I straightened up to my full height. Her eyes widened as if she expected a renewed assault on her now sensitive sex. I turned, picked up my clothes and began dressing. It was difficult to zip up with a protruding hard on and no underwear, but I managed and began walking towards the door. As I reached for the knob, I turned and looked back at her where she sat, exhausted, and spent. Her mouth hung open in surprise that I wasn't staying to "get mine" and she clearly was at a loss for words.

I checked to see that my clothes were straight, turned back to her, and said, 'That'll leave ya with plenty to think about until next time.'"

_____________________________

I've been lax in adding on to this series. The second installment of this story was submitted almost a year ago today, but even though Joyce and I have had other encounters since then, I just didn't take the time to detail them for your enjoyment. I apologize...or maybe I'm flattering myself in thinking that you'd want to read more about Joyce's hot little body and my interest in it.

Twice more Joyce and I had had our fun and once, Sheila even joined in. Joyce's drinking buddy got involved after a day of oddities that ended with everyone in the sack and the two women having their first chance at lesbian love. It started when Sheila one day angrily confronted me in my garage. I looked around to see who else might see this, afraid that she would announce something inappropriate to the neighborhood and ruin what I had at home, let alone what I had with Joyce.

Sheila had started in on the drinking early it seemed and as she marched across the street in her heels, I saw her stagger a bit and almost twist an ankle on the curb as she stepped out of the road into my yard.

"What's wrong with you, asshole?" she fired at me.

I looked up from the V-8 engine I was putting the finishing touches on and stood up straight to see what the issue was. She slowed her purposeful walk and stopped in front of me, the fire still in her eyes.

"Whatever it is, lower your voice, please." I looked over my shoulder at the house, trying to make her think that my girl would hear if she had a violent outburst. Hopefully, whatever she was mad about wasn't so bad that she would jeopardize everything for me.

"Oh, fuck off," she said, emphasizing the "off". "I know that your girlfriend left twenty minutes ago. 'Matter o' fact, I just saw her up at the store getting' gas." Her hands made fists and rested on her hips as she waited expectantly for me to apologize even though I still didn't know what I'd done. A mental catalogue of my wrong doings started to form in my head, or at least the wrong doings that had happened in Joyce's house that Sheila might know about.

I thought to myself, "Let's see: There's the cumstain on the edge of the couch, the destroyed thong, the violation of Joyce's tiny asshole with my cock, the death of her son's fish from when Joyce's son's aquarium was once in the way of our enthusiastic fuck session, and the only other thing that I could think of was something that Joyce had told me about and we'd gotten a good laugh about. I'd gotten good at getting Joyce to secrete huge amounts of girl cum and she'd soaked a couch cushion once. Later, she told me that before she could stop her, Sheila had unknowingly sat on the wet spot, getting her skirt and ass wet in the process.

But none of these justified Sheila coming into my garage and making this scene. It had to be something else than what was on my list.

Well, it turned out that Sheila is a Literotica reader and was angry that I'd described in detail the two different times that Joyce and I had gotten naked. Through sheer luck, she'd found the stories and read with growing interest as she'd realized that I was describing her friend, the house, and its contents. From my descriptions, she'd concluded that I was the writer and therefore the one fucking her friend, a secret that Joyce had not shared with her. The "concern" she was currently showing was based on her initial anger at being cut out of the details of Joyce's escapades and then the anxiety towards my stories which she claimed, could also "out" Joyce and me to our neighborhood.

Once I'd realized that the issue wasn't really an issue, I made the mistake of laughing at her. "That's all?" I thought. "This can't be such a huge issue that she'd march over here and confront me over it." My barely concealed laugh angered her more. Her eyes reddened but I wasn't sure if this was from the booze she'd obviously already imbibed or out of genuine frustration.

"You can't be writing about her like that. Her son might see it, the neighbors might see it, hell, I saw it." I stopped laughing but I still wasn't taking it very seriously.

"Don't you think? What if you had ruined her life with that crazy story?"

"Crazy?" Now it was my turn to ask the questions. "What's so crazy about it? And let me ask you something now. What are you doing reading Literotica? You certainly don't scour every erotic site on the web in an effort to protect your friend. Did you get a good session out of it? Did you enjoy my writing or do you think I'm a hack?" I figured that I'd turn it back on her just to deflect all the criticism that she was aiming at me.

She opened her mouth as if to speak, she stopped, and then her cheeks turned red. "Sounds to me like if you were able to find those two stories about Joyce on a site that literally has thousands of erotic tales, you might spend a bit too much time on the bed with your fingers between your legs."

Her eyes widened, but I didn't let her off the hook. "Or do you use a tool? Dildo? Vibrator?" I watched her face; she wouldn't look up at me. "Maybe a knobby glass something or other sliding over and over into your slippery snatch?"

Her breath caught in her throat.

"Ever taste yourself? Maybe push a little something up your own butt? Do you like that? What do you fantasize about when you get yourself off? Is it a big cock ramming into you or a pretty girl sucking on your clit? What pushes your buttons, Sheila?"

Apparently, she was not used to strangers speaking so frankly to her about her masturbatory habits. (Come on, I'm not a stranger. I'm her best friend's secret fuck buddy. We're practically friends.) I stepped towards her, mainly to scare her a little into thinking that it was her I wanted. Without thinking, she stepped back quickly. Too quickly in fact, because she lost her already questionable balance and started to fall backwards. I moved quickly and caught her before she fell against the Ranchero. (I'll be damned if she was going to mess up the original paint job.)

"Uh, thanks." Clearly embarrassed, she turned away from me again. She gathered her wits and said, "Just watch what you write, ok?"

"'Jealous that it's not about you, huh?" I joked. She reddened again and made an effort to not speak. "Don't worry, I'll write you into a story."

That was it. She turned to walk away. I slapped her hard on the ass and laughed at her as she did her best to strut out of the garage. I watched her go, appreciative that even though she'd come to start a fight AND that she was a tad drunk, she was still trying to put on a show in her skirt and heels.

I bent back to re-installing the carburetor on the big engine, confident that if I had no more interruptions, I'd hear it roar to life tonight. Its 36 year hiatus from propelling the big Ford around had been caused by grief stricken parents who left it parked in the garage after their only son didn't come back from Southeast Asia. Sitting in the garage unused had caused tires to rot, belts and hoses to give up, and a varnish to develop in the fuel system. I'd promised to bring it by when I had it restored, so being this close to getting it running again had me excited to not only drive it for the first time, but to show it to the nice old couple who'd practically given it to me.

It was not to be. As I was turning the nut onto the last intake stud, my cell phone rang. I let it go for a minute, tightening the nut for the carburetor the rest of the way on. I looked at the phone's call identifier and saw that it was Joyce.

"So much for disturbing the peace tonight," I said when I answered. Joyce clearly didn't get it, so I explained that I'd been getting ready to rend the silence in our neighborhood with the roar of 428 cubic inches of fury. My silly, juvenile explanation of my plans didn't get through to her. "What did you do to Sheila?" she asked. I laughed and said that Sheila had been over protective of her and that I'd laughed at her. "So she's probably a little offended that I didn't take her seriously or fuck her," I continued.

"Well, can you come over here right now?" she asked.

"Please tell me that I'm not coming over there to apologize to your goofy friend."

"Goofy friend?!?" I could hear Sheila hollering in the background. Since she was clearly listening in on the phone call, I continued. "What? Is she mad that I didn't make a move on her?" Hopefully my continuous laughing was ensuring that this wasn't taken seriously. I didn't mean to insult Sheila, but this was all too funny to me.

"Oh, no, now you've done it. She's going ballistic." Joyce whispered into the phone as I heard Sheila freaking out. "Could you come over?" Joyce asked.

"What have you got in mind?" Since I wasn't going to get to drive the Ranchero tonight, I wanted to know what I was going to get instead.

"Well, you said you wanted to disturb the peace. Come disturb my peace."

"More like 'get a piece', right? What about Miss Snooty? Is she going to hang around and watch or drive home drunk?"

"Uh...no. Shit. She's just opened another bottle of wine and may just pass out before we get serious at the rate she's going."

"Well then, drop your drawers, Sexy. I'm on my way."

When I got there, Joyce was wearing only a thin white tank top and white boxers. Bare feet and still damp hair from a recent shower made her look fresh and delectable. Sheila's outfit of a silk blouse, short skirt, and heels looked downright formal compared to Joyce's ready-for-bed wear. Since Sheila was in the other room, working on her wine where she couldn't see us, Joyce stood on dainty tip-toes and reached up to me with yearning lips. I devoured her mouth, hungrily nibbling her lips and sticking my tongue down her throat. She responded by hanging onto me more fiercely, pressing her braless tits against me and grinding her hips against mine.

I pushed her away gently and without warning, stuck my right hand down the front of her boxers and quickly found her clit. I squeezed and stroked it, trying to quickly get her going without making a noise that would bring Sheila into the kitchen.

Joyce's pop-nippled tits strained at the sheer tank's fabric. Her little pink nips were clearly visible and I thumbed them with my other hand as the hand in her pants brought her pussy to a slow boil. She was trying desperately to be quiet and I was trying to make her make noise. I wanted to see what Sheila's reaction would be if she walked in on us getting it on. As hard as I was just then, I was positive that I'd have enough cock to satisfy her as well.

Against her protests, I quietly stripped off her two garments until the only things she wore were her toe ring, the piercing in her clit, and a pair of hoop earrings. Effortlessly, I lifted her petite form to the counter while she tried to slow me down. Her quiet protests stopped and turned to a yelp and some squirming when her bare bottom hit the cool granite counter top. My fingers returned to her clit and stroked the little piercing there, raising the little nub of flesh from its hidden spot between her labia.

"Oh, God! She's gonna hear us. You're gonna make me cum. Go easy Baby!" she hissed into my ear. With her arms wrapped around my neck and me standing between her legs I was able to play with her pussy and tits. She hunched herself against my fingers and by now, her pussy juice was beginning to drip onto the counter.

I looked up from Joyce's nipples and saw Sheila standing with an empty wine glass in one hand and her other hand absent-mindedly stroking herself under her skirt. When she noticed me looking at her, she stopped playing with herself immediately. Never looking away from Sheila, I kept right on fingering Joyce's soft cunt.

Sheila couldn't pretend that she wasn't interested, but she made an effort to be nonchalant. After all, Joyce couldn't see her and she was trying to pretend that the scene didn't affect her for my benefit. I watched her as she picked up the bottle on the counter behind her friend, silently poured the remainder into her glass, and took a sip. I fingered Joyce's G-spot to see if I could get a noise out of her and sure enough, she moaned into my neck.

"Want some of this?" I mouthed to Joyce. I didn't know what I was offering her, but if she wanted to lick Joyce, I'd move out of the way. If she wanted to suck my cock, I'd let her do that. If I could get the two of them together in some way, I was willing to go where it lead.

With no answer but a negative shake of her head, Sheila turned and left the room. At the opening to the living room, she lifted her skirt a little to show me that she wasn't wearing any panties. What an ass! If I hadn't had my hands full of one hot and naked woman right in front of me, I'd have chased the other.

I pushed Joyce back slowly until she was flat on the kitchen counter with her legs wrapped around my midsection. I dropped my shorts and wasting no more time, I stroked the head of my cock up and down her slit and positioned it at the entrance to her vag. She pulled her legs up just a little bit more and offered an easier entrance.

"Ready?" I inquired.

"Oh...yeah. Fuck me," came her answer. "But keep it down. I don't want Sheila coming in here and catching us."

I didn't bother to tell her that it was too late to worry about that.

I flexed my hips and gave her just the tip. Short, gasping breaths accompanied her efforts to get me to move faster. I pushed up and down her slit, but never shoved further. I reapplied my fingers to her clit, snaking my hand in between our joined crotches. She moaned louder this time and before she could finish making her noise, I stroked up and into her.

Fully buried in her little cunny, I flexed my hips upward and her eyes opened wide. At this angle, I could stroke my cockhead against her G-spot all day. Instead of pulling all the way out and banging all the way back in, I made four inch strokes trying to keep the head of my rod right on her most sensitive inner spot.

I worked this way for about two minutes watching her face carefully for signs of her arousal. I could see her building up to a quick orgasm. Signs that I'd learned to recognize from banging her these last few months started to show on her face. The slack jaw, the short breaths, the heaving breasts with their pinched and pink nipples, and the rippling of her stomach muscles all cried out that an impending orgasm was imminent.

When I thought she was close, I pulled out and slowly rimmed the hole of her pussy with the head of my cock. I was still technically "in" her, but was now hitting a spot that didn't allow her to enjoy it as much as she had been. When she calmed down and started to look disappointed, I moved further back inside of her and worked over her G-spot again. I watched a second time as her body gave her away and the build up got close. Again, I stopped before she could fire off in ecstasy.

"What are you doing to me?" she asked desperately.

"I've got an ulterior motive."

"What? What do you want? Geez, let me cum already."

I answered, "I want to see you and Sheila together."

"No. I don't think so." Hesitantly, she tried to clear her head and figure out an answer to this new request. "I don't think she'd go for it."

"Leave that to me," I laughed. With that, I stroked into her harder. I worked her sensitive spot consistently and completely until she quit fighting it. Her back arched and her moaning became loud enough that it soon became apparent that she no longer cared who heard. When I saw that she was building up nicely, I stroked faster and faster until I was worried that I'd cum too. I fought it off since I had another idea, but poor Joyce succumbed to the throes of her orgasm and collapsed under me. When she lay still, I slowly pulled out of her. Her pink and red pussy slowly shrank without my member stretching it open. A small wet dollop of her secretions slowly ran down a cupboard door beneath her. She lay on her back facing the ceiling, eyes closed, sated.

I left her like that and walked into the living room. Sheila had her hand beneath her skirt now, legs akimbo, and the half full wine glass in her hand. Eyes closed, she made quite a sight. Silently, I approached and stood before her. She worked quietly on her pussy. I couldn't see it since the hem of the skirt covered her crotch, but from the motions made by her hand, it was evident that she was very busy beneath it.

"Interested?" I said. The sudden sound of my voice startled her out of her reverie and looking embarrassed, she removed the hand from beneath the skirt quickly. The first two fingers were wet and glistening. She tried to compose herself, but what could she say? I was standing in front of her with a slick and hard cock and she'd been caught frigging her pussy.

No answer was forthcoming so I moved closer and allowed my cock to get closer to her face. "Come on, Baby. Give me a little oral."

The hesitation was obvious. She'd had enough to drink that I was sure that she was considering it. I didn't know however, what she thought about having a dick in her mouth that was still wet from the pussy of her friend. Maybe she didn't know.

It was now or never. Either I was going to get my chance with Joyce's hot friend or I was going to further offend her. Whatever happened, I knew I could still bang Joyce; if I could work myself into the option of sex with Sheila, or better yet, sex with both of them at once, that would be ideal.

Moving closer, my cock hung a mere six inches from her face. She opened her mouth to speak and I flexed my hips forward. The wet helmet of my cock touched her lips and she didn't pull away. Repositioning myself between her legs, I stood over her and moved my cock back to her mouth. She began to suck on it slowly. I reached down and took the wine glass from her hand and released of this burden, she placed both hands on my shaft and began stroking.

The head I was getting was great. If her skills were this good when she'd been drinking, I'd look forward to getting head from her while she was sober. The question remained however, would she take my cock in her mouth while it was still slick with her friend's cunt if she was sober? It's a rare thing—at least for me—to find two women who are this good at fellatio. Rarer still is getting away with cheating on my girlfriend with my neighbor AND her best friend and neither of these two minded that I was messing with the other. A rare thing indeed. But one that I was willing to exploit.

I twined my hands in Sheila's hair and directed her head up and down my shaft as her lips held the suction against the length of it. I was close. The lewdness of having my cock, still wet with Joyce's cunt, buried in Sheila's pretty face was a turn on. I thought of ways that I could get the two of them together in bed with me (even though so far, Joyce and I had never made it to a bed) while she worked me over. When the image of Joyce's butt in the air over Sheila's face popped into my head, I could barely take it any more.

Chaingun
Chaingun
56 Followers
12