Good Man Pt. 03

Mackenzie exits via the patio doors, stands at the railing directly in front of us, facing the city while the breeze sweeps across. Nothing much happens. I'm disappointed. The wind direction is not quite right, the velocity not enough. I see the backs of her legs, sometimes a bit of cheek, a rare glimpse of white. She's wearing a thong, not panties. I want to see more. Mostly, she stays covered.

But Mackenzie will take instruction. I turn to Erin. "Do something."

"What, you want to see up her skirt? With me here? What about my dress? My underwear? Aren't they enticing enough for you?" She rubs her hand over my crotch, then rises, food set aside, goes to Mackenzie, has a few words, returns to sit beside me and eat. "Things might improve."

"For you too?"

She inhales deeply. "What can I say?"

There's nothing to say. But I'm positive she's never admitted being turned on watching another beautiful woman. "She turns me on," I say.

"So you are enjoying the view?"

"And wondering how you'll deal with a man who just admitted he's distracted by another woman."

A bit of a smile appears, grows, then she kisses my cheek. "Well distracted, I hope."

"What did you say to her?"

"You'll see."

We're done eating. The burgers and fries perfect as always. Still, Mackenzie does nothing different. She glances back, sees we're done, comes and takes the plates, everything, away, leaves us with refilled drinks then returns to the balcony, elbows on the steel railing, her back to us.

The anticipation is taking its toll. I can't wait to see what's going to happen, what Erin asked her to do, how she'll will react, how I'll react. One full drink in, another in our glasses, the show is about to begin. She reaches over, tries to slip her hand into my pants, gets stuck, gives me a glare. I loosen my belt, unfasten and unzip. Mackenzie turns to watch us while she pulls her kilt higher up her waist, the kilt pin mysteriously missing. A sudden gust slides one panel of her kilt aside, exposing her white thong fully, frontal. Turning her back to us, she leans on the railing again.

Hems higher, kilt looser, freer, her cheeks show more often, for longer. Erin's grip on my cock is firm, not quite stroking but moving all the time. I'm hard.

"Do you suppose she's shaved," says Erin.

"That would be nice."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious."

"What is obvious that you're in my house ogling a woman who's not me and discussing a cunt that's not mine."

"So long as I stay hard," I say.

She gives me a squeeze. "Remember that. Her cunt, shaved or not, is off limits." She kisses me. "But mine isn't."

That's my cue.

I pull up her hem, get stuck. She shifts to make it easy. I expose her to the waist. Her thighs are milky white above the stay-ups. I run my fingers over the lace tops. Her panties hug her like a second skin, white too. I want to touch her, there. She inhales suddenly when I do, spreading her knees for me.

Mackenzie turns to us. I push a finger up the middle of Erin's sex. Mackenzie closes her eyes then turns away again, one hand down to her sex. I see the tips of her fingers ride over her lips, push circles into the thin fabric, her back arched, legs spread wider than before. She's masturbating and we have a clear view from behind.

"Do you think she'll come?" I say.

Erin slides down a bit, her hips raised, her knees as wide as she can get them. "I don't care. Just make me."

She abandons my cock, concentrates on herself. I pull on the hem of her panties, split her lips with the thin fabric, and ride my nail against her trapped clit. Her eyes close, mouth open, breath heavy. It doesn't take long. In seconds she's close, closer, coming, silent but powerful waves washing up her body. I keep at her, taking her as far as I can. When she opens her eyes, she seems dazed.

"Well," she says, "that was quick." Her eyes drift to Mackenzie, watches her drag her fingers up her slit, then pushes me away, stands, adjusts her dress, kneels between my legs and takes me. I'm not fully hard. Her mouth gets me there fast.

Outside, Mackenzie has stirred herself along quite a bit. She stops playing over her thong, slides her hand inside. I see the white fabric bulge, see her sink her fingers deep into herself. I'm really hard now. Erin has learned what works, what doesn't, how I react when she rasps her tongue across the head of my cock. It's all I can do to stay sane.

Mackenzie, suddenly still, legs suddenly tense, knees slightly bent, goes over. It's a strangely subtle affair. Her head drops to rests on her arm, hand gripping the railing, while she quietly dissolves into bliss on the balcony. It's a wonderful sight. Combined with Erin—I grip her head, tight—I just want mine. This is my time, the orgasm that's been dying for release since I've met her at the bar. But— "No, you can't stop!"

She pulls away, looks up, grins. "Doesn't that feel wonderful?"

Wonderful! Everything down there throbs, slick with saliva and pre-cum, aching for release. That would be truly wonderful. But she won't have it. And oddly, again, her denial turns me on even more. I sigh, resigned, lift my eyes from hers, see Mackenzie is facing us, me, fresh from her own orgasm, her kilt parted in front, thong damp, giving me a smile that says she's relishing my predicament too.

She comes inside, stands beside us. I'm still hanging out, hard and glistening. She looks at it, says to Erin. "I like this game you're playing." She unbuckles her kilt, unwraps it, tosses it aside. Erin's still on her knees, gets an eyeful of thong. I get a whiff of Mackenzie's scent. "I'll get you dessert now." She moves off, stops, faces me, says, "Too bad you're not getting much else."

Erin looks up at me. "You're getting everything I want you to get. Now tuck yourself in."

It's not that easy. Erin straightens, sits beside me.

While we wait I hear Mackenzie open and close cupboards, drawers. I picture her doing so, her white thong my focus, how it cuts up her cheeks, rounds up her lips, her mound, hiding nothing. Erin takes my hand in hers.

We're back at the bar, sort of, while we wait for our order to arrive. I'm still achy, in shock, partially, that Erin stopped just in time, just when I was about to lose control. I could have fucked her mouth to release, forced her accept the inevitable, my cum hot down her throat while I held her head to me, no chance of pulling back, hard to breathe, harder still not to choke. I want to do this to her.

"What are you thinking of?" says Erin.

An innocent question. Right. I look at her, meet her eyes. Orgasm suits her. Her face is glowing, not like mine. I'm not actually in a bad way. I feel good, a warm feeling suddenly sweeping over me. I like, maybe love, this woman. I can't believe I'm thinking that. She's taken a huge chance inviting Mackenzie to help tease me. Actually, she's taken a huge chance letting me into her life at all. I could have disappointed her from the beginning. I could just as easily not been the kind of guy she needs. But I am. I wonder if I knew that, somehow, when I saw her for the first time.

But right this minute, it's all I can do to just sit here. I'm still eager, half hard in my pants, anticipating what Mackenzie will do next. I want her here again so I can stare at her thong, at her legs, her smile as I do so, Erin's hand on my cock. "I want to know if she's shaved," I say.

"I am," says Mackenzie.

She's right behind us, dessert tray in hand. Except for the thong, she's naked. She puts the tray down from the far side of the coffee table, gives us our bowls of fruit, and stands straight. "Would you like to see?" What I see already is fabulous. Nice breasts, not too small, not big either, that sit high on her chest, nipples taut. She lets us ogle her, one hand tugging on the waistband of her thong. There's no sign of hair, just a residual damp spot. "Tell me when you're done."

"Does this turn you on?" says Erin.

"Yes. And you?"

Erin says nothing.

"I think it does," I say.

"Can you come again?" says Erin to Mackenzie.

"Now?"

Erin just stares at her.

"I see," says Mackenzie, her hand shifting the top of the thong back and forth. The fabric cuts between her lips. She looks right at me. "At work, knowing the men, and women, are watching, I get turned on." There's a hint of blush on her cheeks. "Sometimes I go to the bathroom and..."

"Get off," says Erin.

Mackenzie nods. "I wonder what it would be like to go out naked into the crowd."

"On my dime?"

Mackenzie freezes.

"Then you won't mind getting off here, again."

One hand slips into her thong. She closes her eyes for a seconds, opens them and says, "I like to see a hard man. I don't get that chance at work." She faces Erin. "Show me yours too."

Erin freezes, glances at me.

"I'd like that," I say.

Erin swallows. "Okay, but you too."

She's already seen my cock. I'm not ashamed. I push my pants and underwear to my knees.

"Show her how you do it," says Erin.

To myself? "Me?" I know she's done it for us, but not naked. I take myself, begin. They're both watching me, my hand, my cock. I'm not used to being stared at. Nothing happens. It's obvious. And humiliating.

Mackenzie rounds the coffee table, come directly to me, stands so her knees brush mine. "Is this better?"

Yes. Abruptly, Erin leans over and kisses me. It's a deep, insistent one, tongue searching. She pulls my head to hers, holds me to her, her kiss full of passion, of love, of need. The message is clear. She wants me, wants this.

I pull away. "I'll walk with you on the beach."

There's a moment of...nothing...then her face softens, her eyes water. I see her try to speak. She nods instead. I know what just happened. I wipe a stray hair from her face, kiss her lips softly, once, twice. A tear slides down one cheek, threatens to on the other.

"Come, you two," says Mackenzie, rolling her eyes.

I come back to reality, can't believe that for a long moment, Mackenzie vanished.

Erin sits back, looks at her. "Go ahead, do what you have to." She looks right at me, stern. "I want you hard."

It's an order. But this time conditions have changed. I respond. Mackenzie, slips a hand behind her thong, pushes fingers into herself.

Erin rises, leaves us. I stare up at Mackenzie. I can't believe she's so close, nearly naked, circling her clit with the pads of her fingers behind that so-thin white stretchy fabric, eyes on me.

I'm hard, really hard, but I know I'm not allowed to come. Mackenzie has no such restriction. She will. I want to see her buckle before my eyes, barely able to control her orgasm, eyes closed, breathing hard while the contractions rip up her body.

Erin returns. She's got a small vibrator, bullet shaped. "Don't let the size fool you," she says.

She pulls Mackenzie's hand from the thong, from her sex, pushes both arms behind her back. "Don't move." She slips the vibrator down the thong. "Fix it for me, put it where it works best."

Mackenzie does so, the vibrator bulging out oddly, resting between her lips, against her clit.

"There's a switch on the back end. Push it."

Mackenzie does, a dull buzzing and a sharp intake of air prove it's doing its job effectively.

"Hands behind your back."

Mackenzie complies.

"Now stay there until you come. No, stay there until I say so. Got it?"

Mackenzie's eyes widen suddenly, but nods.

Erin gives her a quick smile then faces me. "How do you think she'll take this?"

I can't wait to see her come. More to the point, and to what really gets me hard, I want to see how she deals with the vibrator after she comes. "Better than I will."

Erin climbs on the couch beside me, on her knees, facing me, dress hiked above her hips, toying with her own sex.

"You want to see us both suffer, don't you?" I say.

"I'm a bitch that way," she says. "But she's come her to show off and I want to see her do just that."

So do I. And I'm just as close as Mackenzie is, that sharp feeling deep in my groin telling me my balls want to unload, now. Mackenzie's thong shifts. She taken the back of it, pulled it up between her cheeks, jamming the vibrator into her lips. She's close, getting closer. And closer. Her face betrays her, mouth wide open, breathing hard and long, eyes shut, body tense, trembling slightly and low buzz keeps at her clit.

"When you come," says Erin, "keep the vibrator tight, just like it is now. Hear?"

It's hard to tell if Mackenzie does hear. I barely do. I have to slow down or I will come. That's hard, counterintuitive, anathema to virile man. The pressure inside my balls knows only one escape—orgasm. I'm torn, the need to explode, to obey, at odds. A rush of—I'm not sure of what—floods through me. I want to do this for her. I want to prove I'm worthy. That I love.

I almost lose it, stop just in time, I think, the surge at the base of my balls almost unbearable, almost...almost, but not quite, release. I breathe, glance over to Erin, smile to show her I'm still in control. Barely.

"Good man," she says. "That's just how I want you. Now stay like that." She looks up at Mackenzie. "Go ahead, come if you want to. But you know the rules."

There's only one: keep the thong tugged up her cheeks so the vibrator stays jammed between her lips.

Erin's pretty worked up too. I can tell; I've seen her come a few times now. But she seems to back off too.

Mackenzie has no such ability. She's fighting it. She knows, somehow, that after her orgasm, the vibrator will be too much, her clit, her sex, too sensitive, already sated. It's a battle. I'm fighting the same one, sort of. But I can deny myself. She can't and knows it. It's not a fair fight, really. The desire to delay, or even avert, orgasm just makes the need more acute, more inevitable. She comes.

She pushes out a barely stifled moan, long and deep, body arched, every muscle hard. Then the contractions hit. Her knees give way, slowly. But she recovers, straightens. But the spasms don't let up. They roll up her frame, one, two, three, and still the vibrator rocks her clit.

She opens her eyes, faces Erin, pleads quietly. Erin just shakes her head.

Her face, once betraying pleasure, now shows a mix of fear and pain. And panic. But she takes it. On and on it goes, the vibrator sending her clit into hell. And then her face goes serene and she's pulling harder on the thong, jamming the vibrator further up her slit.

"Oh, my," says Erin.

Mackenzie's nearly hyperventilating, gasping for air, going into another orgasm. Still, she keeps the vibrator pulled tight, very tight. So tight the fabric has stretched all it can, splitting her lips, vibrator singing between them. She shrieks. Once. Twice. How utterly entrancing. Her knees go soft and there's no hope of recovery this time. She goes to the floor, writhing, curled up into fetal position, while the spasm have their way.

Erin is totally mesmerized. I've abandoned my cock. What Mackenzie is experiencing must be remembered without distraction. I have never seen a woman so utterly consumed by an orgasm.

I reach over and take Erin's hand.

She squeezes back, sits and nestled against me. "That was wonderful," she says.

"Wasn't it."

She slips off her panties and spreads her knees wide. "Now you know how this works, give me what she just had."

I kneel on the floor, pull her lips apart with my fingers. Her lips are dewy wet, engorged. Her clit's extended, red, and needs a rough tongue so its owner cries out in pleasure. "I won't let up."

She nods quickly. "I know. But I'm ready for it. I think."

Behind me, Mackenzie stands. She's shaky, wobbly, in a bit of a daze. She's shed her thong, her lips slippery slick, shaved petals curled open. Vibrator in hand, she walks away.

With the flat of my tongue, I push between Erin's lips and up, but very, very slowly. I grip her thighs, feel her tense, hear the sharp intake of air. But there's no attempt to stop me. I do it again.

"I'm not going to stop," I say.

She grips my shoulders. "I'm counting on it."

I don't. But it's all she can do to stay still. Mackenzie returns and hands me a just washed vibrator. But that's not what I want. Then I change my mind. I take it and slid it inside, on. There's no resistance, her juices run freely, everything slippery wet. For a moment I think she doesn't even know it's up there then her leg muscles harden. And hold.

I press my tongue against her clit and push, rasping it against her, back and forth, up and down. I don't stop. And won't. Orgasm is imminent. Seconds. Now.

It's a good one, the spasm's abrupt and strong, her grip on my shoulders hurting me. But I keep at her, ignoring that I'm beginning to tire, ignoring she's likely sensitive. She recoils a bit, tries to slide back, then fights it, hips forward again, knees held wide. I swipe up hard, right on the tip of her clit and she screams.

Mackenzie cleans up.

Erin and I are still on the couch, proper, modest. Mackenzie moves around us, bringing stuff back to the kitchen, wiping the coffee table top, her clothing still on the floor, thong included.

"That was amazing," I say to Erin.

"Mackenzie or me?"

Both. "You, silly." My mouth still tastes of her, my two-day stubble sticky with her juices.

After the first orgasm subsided, she really tired to dislodge me. Before orgasm, wanting me to stay was easy. But after, her need to have all simulation stopped took over. She didn't have Mackenzie's willpower. But I'm stronger than Erin.

"You don't take orders well," she says.

"I was taking my orders, not yours, that's all." Her plight, her writhing as I feasted her clit, her cunt, her pleas to stop only served to redouble my efforts. "You came again."

A smile crosses her lips. "Yes, I did."

"Didn't you think that possible?"

She takes my hand in hers. "No. But you're a magician."

Whatever the reason, it worked. Once she'd resolved to just it happen, the sensitivity became arousal again. But she didn't come quickly. Orgasm held off for some reason. But when it came...whew!

"You just kept coming. I figured it would do on for as long as I could keep going."

"The vibrator helped."

"You were just turned on."

She nods. "I was. But I've never come twice like that. And never non-stop like that. I'm bushed. But happy."

I look at her eyes. Her faces shows genuine happiness. My fault. I hold her close, her head on my shoulder.

"Aw," says Mackenzie. "So cute." She standing before us, still naked. "I'll get a cab home." She pulls up her thong. "Just so you know, this has been a dream come true."

"I owe you a big one," says Erin.

"And I thought I'd be bored." She takes a deep breath, looks at us both. "I'll do this again, if you want."

"I'll call you," says Erin. "There'll be an extra something in your pay next week."

"I have a girlfriend, a real one. Her and I could..."

Erin elbows me. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"And two women getting each other off won't get to you?" says Mackenzie. "You're not immune either."

She doesn't answer.

We watch a movie. It's an old Bogart film, in black and white.

"Should I be worried," I say.

She faces me. "About what?"

"Not being immune."

"I see. You'll come home one day after work and I'll have a young girl in my bed."

"Something like that."

"Are you really concerned?"

"I'm not sure."

"So you do want to stay with me. I mean, a long time."

I can't read her face. She's gone blank. Is she holding back all emotion, not sure if I'll actually be her man? "Yes," I say. "But I don't want to worry about getting replaced."

Her face softens and tears well up. "You won't. Promise." She leans into me, holds my arm so I can't move away. She looks up. "Does this mean we're a couple?"

Onscreen, Bogey kisses Bacall. "I'd like that."