Cheryl and Meryl Pt. 05

*

The coda to the coda occurred about a month later.

This happened on a Sunday afternoon, and Shirley again found herself alone in the house, as Daniel and Brenda needed to pick up a number of things at a nearby mall. There was a knock on the door so tentative that Shirley wasn't sure it was really a knock; but when she cautiously approached the front door, she could see through the glass panes that a young man was standing there.

He was quite short in stature, perhaps no more than five foot six; but he was pretty stocky. Of an olive complexion, with straight black hair and chiseled features, he was not at all bad to look at.

"Yes?" Shirley said after opening the door.

The man seemed really worked up. He kept clenching and unclenching his hands, and he was almost dancing with nervousness. After a prolonged silence he finally said:

"Does Brenda—Brenda Middleton—live here?"

At first, Shirley was disinclined to answer truthfully. What business was it of this fellow whether she lived here or not? In any event, an inkling of the truth was already dawning upon her.

"Why do you want to know?" Shirley said aggressively.

"Look, ma'am," the man said, suddenly grimacing in some kind of pain, "I don't know who you are. But I gotta see Brenda! Jesus Christ, I've been going crazy!"

Shirley gazed at him sourly. "You're Tony, aren't you?"

He looked at her as if she were a supernatural entity. "Gee, how did you know?"

"Just a lucky guess."

"Ma'am, please! Please let me see Brenda!"

"Why should I? You assaulted her. Anyway, she's not here."

"I didn't!" Tony cried, presumably answering the accusation Shirley had made.

"You didn't assault her?" she said skeptically.

"Listen, it's complicated. I really, really love her, and I just want to explain."

And with that, to Shirley's horror, the man started to cry.

He came close to falling to his knees, covering his face in his hands and sobbing. His emotions were so obviously sincere that Shirley couldn't help being moved. And he was also causing her acute embarrassment.

"Good God," she said sharply, "don't sit there crying on my doorstep! Come on in."

Tony shuffled in, barely seeing where he was going, as he still held his hands to his face. As Shirley led him into the living room, he stared around just as Brenda had done upon her initial entry into this house.

"Wow, some place you got here," he said.

"Thank you," Shirley said. "Now you'd better explain—"

"I don't know what she's told you," Tony said at once, "but I didn't beat her up! Christ, I'd never do that to a woman—or to anyone! Okay, I'm a little hot-headed sometimes. It's in my blood: I'm Italian, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"Antonio Calabrese," he intoned with a certain pomp.

"But you hit her," Shirley said, keeping to the point.

"I didn't!" Tony protested.

"You didn't? She said you did. Why would she make up something like that?"

"Okay, I did swing at her. But I missed! Maybe I scratched her nose, but that's it! But even that made her so furious that she just walked out and never came back!" Actually, she had come back to the apartment—accompanied by Daniel—to fetch her things; but she had insisted that Tony not be there while she did so.

"That's it?" Shirley said. "You scratched her nose?"

"That's it, I swear!"

"But you tried to hit her."

"Okay, sure."

"So that's still bad. Very bad."

"Oh, God, don't I know it! I've been kicking myself for it ever since it happened! But I'm not a bad person! I've never, ever done anything like that before, and I'll never do it again. Please, you gotta believe me!"

Shirley was on the point of saying, "Better explain that to Brenda, not to me." But the emotional Tony was already in the throes of yet another outburst, and he again collapsed to his knees and wrapped his arms around Shirley's midsection, burying his face into her groin and moaning and wailing with abandon.

Shirley involuntarily placed a hand on the top of Tony's head, being utterly unused to such paroxysms coming from a man. And she had to admit that Tony's warm face felt rather nice against her delta. But Tony himself was involuntarily taking further action. Rubbing his face back and forth against the thin cloth of Shirley's skirt, he unwittingly seized the elastic hem of her wraparound skirt and by slow degrees pulled it down so that it fell to the floor—and her panties came with it.

Seemingly startled by the sight of Shirley's hairy pussy in front of his face—and, perhaps, more startled that his hostess wasn't expressing any outrage at her sudden nudity—Tony absorbed the heady scent of her sex and tentatively extended a tongue toward her cleft.

As Shirley continued to do nothing but peer down at the wretched man, Tony took bolder action. He seized her bottom with both hands as he licked her labia, causing some of their juices to leak out. He then went further, inserting his tongue as far into Shirley's pussy as he could, delighted to hear moans of pleasure coming from her as she parted her legs wider to allow him better access.

Tony's big hands grasped Shirley's butt and gave it a good squeeze as he licked and sucked and nuzzled, sometimes even nibbling on her clitoris. His lips, nose, and cheeks were soon coated with her wetness as her legs made two sides of a long triangle, her feet firmly planted to the floor. She tousled his hair in her excitement, and let out a girlish squeal when he boldly stuck a finger or two into her anus.

Her orgasm cascaded over her in a rush. She actually wasn't keen on having one standing up, as her legs tended to buckle and she didn't relish the prospect of falling in a heap in front of this virtual stranger. But as her thighs quivered and her whole body shook, she managed to stagger over to an easy chair, landing clumsily on it. Tony stood looking blankly at her—or was there just the faintest trace of a smile on his glistening lips?

"Take your pants off," she ordered breathlessly.

Tony stood up, staring at Shirley as he slowly and carefully unbuckled his belt, pulled down the zipper on his jeans, and forced them down to the floor, taking his underwear with them. Now a definite smirk came over his features.

And why not? The gasp that Shirley expelled said it all.

"My goodness," she whispered.

His member was close to ten inches long, and it was already so erect that it was standing straight up, pressing against his abdomen. The first thought Shirley had was: That silly girl Brenda let this huge cock slip out of her grasp?

Well, she wasn't going to make that mistake. She hurriedly peeled off her blouse and bra and, ordering Tony to sit on the couch, approached him in glorious nudity. Squatting over him, she took his member in her hand, not bothering to do any preliminary oral stimulation, and directed it toward her cleft.

Both of them watched raptly as the long shaft disappeared inch by inch into her sex. Tony was not entirely sure she could accommodate its entire length into her—and was suitably impressed when she did. She had never felt so filled, and he had never felt so engulfed.

She began riding him—slowly at first, then with greater force and vigor. He took occasion to seize her around the waist and drew her to him, suckling on those glorious breasts (although he did feel that Brenda's were just a tad nicer) and burying his face in her cleavage.

This was how things were when Daniel and Brenda came home.

As they walked into the living room, carrying a few plastic bags, they stood stock-still at what they saw on the sofa. Daniel just gaped silently. Brenda had a different reaction.

"What the—?" she said. Then, peering closely at the flailing couple, "Tony—is that you? What are you doing?"

He was too busy to reply, and Shirley didn't think it was the right time to make some smart-ass comment. All she said was, "Just pay no attention . . ."

"Honestly, Tony," Brenda said exasperatedly, "you'll just fu—I mean, poke anything that moves, especially if it's female." She cast a quick glance at Daniel, as if saying: You'd better be careful, he might poke you too.

It was just at this time that Tony could no longer restrain himself, and he shot a massive discharge into Shirley, who continued to bounce gently on his cock to drain every last drop out of it.

As she flopped off of him, landing on the sofa with her legs spread and his emission leaking out of her, Tony stumbled to his feet, his arms extended.

"Hey, babe," he said, "I really didn't mean that! I came here to see you—to apologize. I'm real sorry for what I did . . ."

But all Brenda could do was watch his slick cock wobbling in his direction. It seemed to frighten her, and she backed away, falling onto an easy chair facing the sofa.

Tony immediately fell to his knees in front of her, lifted up the hem of her dress, pulled aside the crotch of her panties, and began licking her pussy with gusto.

The other two just watched in a daze as he repeated to his old girlfriend what he had just done with his newest female acquaintance. In a matter of minutes, the job was done and Brenda was letting out her patented high-pitched squeal of orgasmic delight.

Tony actually thought Shirley's pussy tasted just a wee bit sweeter than Brenda's, but wisely realized that now was not the time to say so. All he said was: "You forgive me, babe?"

Huffing and puffing, her breasts heaving, Brenda said, "Not yet. Maybe later."

Without anyone having to say so, the quartet sensed that this was only the beginning of festivities. They headed up the stairs in single file, Brenda leading Tony by his cock. Daniel and Brenda quickly stripped, and that was the signal for a general free-for-all that resulted in double penetrations for both women; a chain of oral stimulation, as they formed a square on the bed and licked and sucked as the case may be; each man getting ridden by one female while the other sat on his face; and all manner of other permutations.

At the end of the session, Brenda finally forgave Tony. The scratch on her nose had healed long ago and was now invisible. It was now decided that dinner had to be prepared—and of course the women had to take charge. They cooked it naked, and everyone at it naked. Afterwards, the foursome resumed its activity.

*

In the interval between Brenda's and Tony's appearance in her life, Shirley took occasion to explain her unorthodox situation with her friend and co-worker Ellen Chase, a woman in her forties who'd had her own share of marital troubles.

"You're telling me," Ellen said, "that you're actually letting Daniel's mistress live with you?"

"Sure," Shirley said smugly.

"And he—I mean, you let him—" Ellen was so fit to be tied that she couldn't get out the words. You let him fuck her?

"You bet," Shirley replied blandly.

"But—but—what a horrible blow to feminism!"

"I'd hardly say that." Then, with a suitable pause for emphasis: "I enjoy her too."

You could have knocked Ellen over with a feather.

Shirley went on. "Look, girl: when it comes to sex, men like variety. That's a known fact. There's not much we can do about it, so if we want to avoid the repeated indignity of being cheated on, then I say: let him have his 'little piece on the side,' so long as we can get some pleasure out of her too!"

"I—I didn't know you were like that," Ellen managed to say.

"I didn't either. But you need to try it before you dismiss it out of hand." She went on sententiously, "You know, I think most women are innately bisexual if they're not actual lesbians. There's really something so clean and pure and wholesome about lesbian sex. I mean, what is sex all about anyway? It's about orgasms, isn't it? And when you're with a woman, all you're focusing on is giving her an orgasm and getting one in return—or even at the same time. It's fabulous! But when a man enters the scene, you're basically focused on giving him an orgasm. Even when he's licking you or sucking your nipples or doing other stuff like that as foreplay, it's basically to get him going. That male organ is so obtrusive that the female orgasm becomes a kind of second-class citizen. God knows, any number of men seem quite content to get themselves off and then let the lady fend for herself. You know, the old joke about the man rolling over and falling asleep?"

Ellen chuckled bitterly in agreement.

"Anyway, a woman is great to have around the house, especially in the kitchen. You know what they say: everyone needs a wife—especially a woman!"

THE END