A Bad Case of Nerves

In the morning, I suggested to Edgar that we get married, but he just laughed at me. I made him coffee, and then he got dressed and left the house. I looked out the window as he went back to his car in my driveway. I had given him my phone number, but he had not given me his. I hoped that he would call me. I wanted desperately to see him again. I wanted desperately to get fucked again.

I drove to the gift shop and I think I was singing when I opened the door. Mella looked at me suspiciously.

"How come you're so happy?" she asked me.

"It's a beautiful day," I answered.

"It's raining," she countered.

"I like the rain," I insisted. I was very cheery all day long. Actually I couldn't wait to get home. I just knew Edgar would call me and we would fuck again. That night I lay naked in bed, stroking my wet pussy, waiting for the phone to ring. It didn't. The next night the phone didn't ring. A week went by. I stopped singing. He hadn't even called me about the home insurance.

"What's wrong, Louise?" Mella asked me.

"Nothing," I answered, twisting my fingers together. "I just have a bad case of nerves. It'll pass."

She shook her head and went back to putting the new birthday cards in the rack.

"Well, if that's how he wants it, fuck him," I thought as I got into my sexy clothes and put on my makeup. I would just make another trip to the Westwind Lounge. I would find someone new. Edgar was not the only pebble on the beach. There were a lot more fish in the sea.

When I got to the Westwind Lounge, I was half hoping that Edgar would be at the bar. I wanted the chance to snub him. I wanted the chance to have him watch as I spurned him and got cozy with another man.

The bartender nodded to me, as I perched on a stool. I was a familiar face. I looked around. Edgar was not at the bar. Damn. But there were several other decent looking possibilities.

One of them moved from the end of the bar, and sat down next to me.

"What can I get you to drink?" he asked me.

"I think I'd like a gin and tonic," I said. I simply did not know the name of any other drink.

"Phil," he called to the bartender. "A gin and tonic for the lady. And I'll have another scotch rocks. He tipped his empty glass toward the bartender.

Scotch rocks. I would have to remember that.

He was a tall, good-looking, powerfully-built dark haired man who hadn't shaved. He was wearing a green uniform and his muscles bulged out in every direction. He was all male. He was breathtaking.

I recognized him immediately. He was my plumber. Again I noticed the eagle tattoo on his arm. But now the eagle was turning me on. I could tell that he didn't recognize me. Well, how could he? I was a different person.

"The name's Dylan," he said and reached out his hand. I had known his name was Dylan. And what he didn't know was that I knew his last name. O'Reilly. Dylan O'Reilly.

"Louise," I answered, and shook his hand politely.

He told me all about the vagaries of the plumbing business, how you never knew what was going to happen when you got to someone's house. Some of the people were really nice, but some of them were real 'ballbusters.' I sympathized with him. I could really imagine his going to the house of a nervous, cranky, frustrated old-maid, who gave him nothing but misery.

I was telling him about the gift shop, and the new birthday cards, when all of a sudden the door opened, and someone came into the Lounge. No. It was not Edgar. It was a woman. A glamorous, beautiful young woman with long red hair, and a tight sexy outfit. She wore long, shiny black stockings. A short plaid skirt. A mini-top which exposed her bare midriff. In her navel were a cluster of fake diamonds. She had been pierced. I was so astounded by her general appearance that I had not even glanced at her face. I did so now. My jaw dropped.

"Mella," I cried in amazement.

"Louise? Is that you? Oh, my god. It is you. What are you doing here? Why are you dressed like that?"

"Why are you dressed like that?" I countered.

"I guess you never saw my piercings." She smiled.

"No. I never saw them. You dress differently in the store."

"So do you," she observed. I nodded.

She sat down on the stool on the other side of me. I had Dylan on my right, and Mella on my left.

"What can I buy you to drink?" Dylan asked her, leaning in front of me. He was looking at her breasts, which were even bigger than mine.

"I'll have a banana Daiquiri," she said. Dylan ordered it from Phil, the bartender.

"Dylan. This is my friend Mella. Mella, who works in the shop with me. Mella. This is Dylan. Dylan is a plumber."

They shook hands directly along the bar, directly in front of me. Dylan seemed to be holding on to her hand, but Phil wanted to put down the Daiquiri, and needed space. He let go of her hand and they sat up. We laughed and chatted and gazed at each other in the mirror behind the bar. Mella was really a beautiful girl. I had never even noticed that. And Dylan. My god. Dylan was a hunk. He was sexier than Edgar. This would be no night of second best. I would pick him over Edgar any day.

But a horrible thought crossed my mind. Dylan and Mella were being very flirty. Suppose he didn't want me? Suppose he wanted her? She was younger than I. I didn't want that to happen. I tried everything I could think of. I was bright, vivacious. I kept injecting clever little bon mots into the conversation. And I have to admit, I let my leg rub against Dylan's every now and then. Sort of unconsciously. And when I dropped my purse, and had to reach down to get it, I steadied myself on his firm, muscular left thigh. Way high up, and my middle finger was almost touching his enlargement. Yes, it was enlarged. And I hoped against hope that I was the cause of that enlargement.

We all had more drinks. We laughed. We chatted. I joked. I dropped my purse again. Dylan began describing to us the fabulous apartment he had furnished for himself, above his plumbing supply store. He called it his bachelor pad.

"You gotta see it," he told us. "When we leave here, you gotta come over and see it."

"Both of us?" I asked.

"Of course," he said.

I was disappointed. There would be no action tonight.

Dylan left Phil a big tip on the bar, and we gathered our belongings. Before I got up, I dropped my purse one more time. Clumsy me. All three of us got in our separate automobiles, and Mella and I followed Dylan to the plumbing store and his fabulous bachelor 'pad'.

We walked up an exterior flight of stairs on the side of his store, up to the second floor. Dylan led the way. He took out his keys, and opened the front door. Mella and I entered. He flipped the light switch.

One side of the living room was a living room, and the other side was a gymnasium with all sorts of weights and exercise machines. Now I knew how he got all those muscles. He gave us a walking tour. He showed us the modern kitchen with the granite counters, which he said he never used. He showed us the modern bathroom, with the enormous Jacuzzi bathtub, and the marble vanity. He showed us the bedroom. The bedroom. My god. Mirrors everywhere. Every wall was a mirror. The ceiling was a mirror. I looked up and saw myself upside down. I saw Nella and Dylan upside down. I saw the enormous king size bed with all kinds of red pillows and cushions upside down. Suddenly Dylan's headtop approached my own, and before I could react, I felt his demanding lips on mine. He put one arm around my waist, and pressed me to him. I could feel his hard enlargement against my vulnerability. The other arm was reaching out to Mella.

His mouth moved off mine, and onto Mella's. We were pressed together in a close-knit group of three. Mella moaned in rapture. Then he took his mouth off Mella's and suddenly it was on my own again. He was massaging my breasts. Then Mella's. Then mine. Then....

He was still kissing us both. I felt Mella's hand brush against mine on Dylan's fly.

"Kiss her," he told me.

"Kiss Mella?" I had never considered anything like this.

"Yes. Go ahead. You too, Mella. Kiss Louise. I want to see a nice sexy ladykiss."

I nervously moved my mouth to Mella's, and she to mine. We kissed. I licked her lips. I felt her tongue enter my mouth. I felt a tingling in my vulnerability. Now Dylan was placing a hand on my tingle. And on Mella's. Then the three of us were kissing all at once. Three tongues together. Then he opened our blouses and brassieres, and began feeding on my breasts. Then on Mella's. Then on mine.......

"Get undressed," he said.

I stood up and started disrobing like an automaton. Mella took off her blouse and skirt. She had disattached the left stocking from the pantygirdle clasps and was now rolling the sheer black nylon down her long leg. She was still in her pink panties while I was already in the nude. Dylan led me to the bed and arranged me along its length. Then he started to get undressed.

I could never have imagined such an endowment. How did it get so big and muscular? I knew it didn't lift weights. How would I get that inside me? I put that fear out of my mind. I knew that I was resourceful and somehow I would manage.

Dylan was first on top of me. Then on top of Mella. More and more hot kisses. His tongue was becoming as familiar to me as my own. Then he scootched down on the bed and planted his mouth over Mella's pussy. He began licking it. Flicking his tongue back and forth over her engorged pink nublet. Back and forth. Back and forth. Mella was thrashing all around on the mattress and making low guttural sounds. I was fingering my own pussy in envy.

But then, Dylan moved across the bed and began pleasuring me. Now I knew what Mella was thrashing about. I began rolling around the bed, screaming, holding his head into me. Yes. I was behaving like a strumpet.

Then Dylan moved up over my body, and that fearsome blunt knob was pressing into my slot. I could feel my mucous membranes separating around it. Separating and then drawing back together to clutch at it. I reached down and fondled his hard asscheeks as they were hunching his dick into me. Along the sides, I could feel his taut assflesh dimpling. His behind was so smooth. So smooth. I raised my legs around him, and I could feel his heavy balls battering my exposed asshole. It was very sexy. I could see his hard, firm asscheeks flexing and unflexing on each instroke and each outstroke. In the mirrors I could see the long taut dimples of his straining buttocks. I could see everything. All in the glittering mirror over my head. I was looking up at that mirror, and I could see fantastic fornication on the bed below it. If I turned my head to the side, the walls were mirrored, and I had a side view. I saw a man and a woman fucking. I was that woman. I loved it. I could also see another tattoo. A large one covering his left buttock. It was an American flag. Red, white, and blue. And it was waving, as he gored in and out of me. I wanted to salute, but instead I grabbed the banner and crushed it in my greedy hand. When I removed my hand, the flag was not crushed. I had not desecrated it. I wanted to move down and lick it, as any good patriot would do. But I was under him getting plowed. I was pinned down and couldn't move anything but my hips.

He was kissing me, when suddenly Mella's face was there and he began kissing her.

"Lick my asshole," he told her.

She hesitated.

"Lick my asshole," he told her again. "Then I'll fuck you."

She thought it over and decided this was a good deal. She knelt between our legs as he pumped into me, and I looked down. She had moved my hand off his patriotic buttcheek, and now was separating his two mounds with her own hands. I saw the little pink tongue dart out between her lips as she moved her face into his darkness.

"Oh. Oh. Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah." Dylan screamed and began really slamming into me and then pressing his tight pucker back onto Mella's tongue.

I wished I could have had his thick white cream in my cunt, but he had promised Mella that he would fuck her, so I wasn't surprised when he withdrew his pleasure rod from my slick sheath, before it had blasted into me. Now Mella was lying next to me on the bed, and she shifted over and stuck his still-wet dick into her. They began hunching together. I was a little jealous. I turned on my side, and placed my mouth between theirs and we were all kissing together again.

This continued for another five minutes. I thought he was going to blast into Mella, but he didn't. Suddenly he withdrew his big meat from her slippery sheath, and moved up on her body, straddling her chest. His butt was lightly pressing against her large breasts, as he bent his stiff dick down toward her mouth, and pressed it between her lips. He pulled me over to him, and began devouring my tits. Licking them, sucking them. He suddenly had a brilliant idea.

"Eat her pussy," he told me. He may have sensed a slight distaste on my part, because he repeated, "Eat her pussy." And it was like an order.

I moved down between Mella's luscious thighs and began running my tongue up and down her mouth-like slit. Then I went for it. I clasped my lips around her button and began sliding my tongue over it and sucking. I liked it. Mella liked it. She was making low guttural sounds again. So was Dylan, as Mella sucked his length into her throat in extreme passion.

We did all different things. In all different positions. Mella and Me. Mella and Dylan. Dylan and me. We tried every permutation possible. There was nothing I didn't like. Finally Dylan pushed me down on the bed on my stomach and pulled my ass up into the air. He fucked me like the bitch I was. He fucked me doggy style. I could feel his big prick feeding into me from behind. I slammed my ass back into his taught muscular belly. Slap. Slap. Slap. I looked in the mirror. His eagle soared. His flag fluttered. And I wanted his cum. How I wanted his cum.

Oh, no. He was taking it out again. But wait. Oh my god. He was moving it up against my bottomhole. He wanted to take me anally. How could that happen? It was too big. It was too long. It was too thick. He was pressing. Pressing too hard. Now my rear walls were separating and regrouping around his hard rod. Sucking on it. Pulling on it. He started making crazy noises, and his flanks began pumping arhythmically. He pushed me flat on the bed and fell heavily on top of me. I could feel him hunching frenetically. I could feel his cock growing inside me. Yes. This was what I had wanted so badly. He was coming in me. I could feel blast after blast of his burning liquid inside my rectum. At least I didn't have to worry about getting knocked up tonight. I would really have to get a prescription for birth control pills.

The three of us lay in the bed exhausted for more than an hour. Fondling each other. Nuzzling each other. Around 3 a.m. Mella, and I each went home. We had to get a little sleep and dress for work the next day. Dylan told us he wasn't going to ask for our addresses or phone numbers. (If I'd given him my address, he would have realized that I was the nasty frustrated harridan whom he'd visited recently. He had told me I needed to get laid. Well, he had been right. I had needed it. He had changed my life. I owed him a debt.)

Dylan explained that he never saw anyone twice. He liked new experiences all the time. New faces. New tits. New cunts. New asses. All shining in his multi-mirrored bedroom. I was disappointed, but I was used to it. I hadn't seen Edgar again either. I guess only a woman really wants a relationship. A man just wants to get his rocks off. Too bad.

The next morning when I got to the store, Mella was already there. She had opened as usual. I had never looked at Mella as a person before. Only as an employee. And now I realized that she was an attractive and vibrant young woman. The first hour, after I got there, was a little awkward. I think we were both a little embarrassed about what had occurred the night before. But as the day wore on, we got a little more comfortable with each other. In a new way.

We started to become friends. We would go out for dinner together. She would come over to my house and we would watch television together in the evening. It got so that when she went home at night, I would start feeling lonely. I would start missing her.

I asked her to move in with me. I needed the company. She agreed. She sublet her own house, and moved into my spare bedroom.

The first night she was there, we decided to celebrate. We got all dolled up and drove down to the Westwind Lodge. We had a ball. The guys just loved us. We brought someone home and had just the greatest time. We had such a good time that we did it again the next night. Yes. Mella had been sleeping in the spare bedroom down the hall, but now she would just stay in my bed all night long. Sometimes the guy would sleep over and there would be three of us in the bed. It was so cozy.

We scored almost all the time. A man, on the prowl, might not pick up anyone. A woman, on the prowl, has a better chance. And two women on the prowl. Just imagine.

Some nights we brought home one man. Some nights we brought home two men. There were nights when we brought home three. And sometimes more. Sometimes we just emptied out the whole bar and had a real party. I had had so many cocks inside my mouth and my cunt now. And even my rectum. I was a regular old pro. Except, no, I didn't do it for money. I just liked it.

Of course there was that occasional evening when there just weren't any men in the lounge. Just Mella and me. We would drive home together. Just the two of us. We would go to bed together. Just the two of us. And we would have a good time. Just the two of us. We enjoyed that too. For those nights, we bought a double-headed dildo. And besides, you'd be surprised at how much sensation you can get with just two pussies rubbing together.

I still go to the cemetery to visit mother's grave every week, but I don't bring flowers. I am too much of a lady to do what you are thinking. I would never spit on my own mother's grave. But when I think of what she did to me...... When I think of all the years I lost, that I am desperately trying to make up for...... An icy cold feeling envelops me as I stare at her gravestone. I do not get hysterical. I am totally calm. 'Calm as a cucumber' as the cliché goes. You see, since I first began to fuck, my whole life has changed. My whole personality has changed. I am no longer fidgety and fretful. I no longer whine and complain. I am just fine. I have become worldly. I have become sophisticated. I am now a full-fledged strumpet. And I no longer have a bad case of nerves.