Honest-Honest Ch. 07

"You know him better than I do."

"I'm not sure I know him anymore, not like before Vaughn."

"I'm going to do it, if it's still okay—tonight," Katy declared.

"Do what?"

"I'll sneak out and suck his dick."

"While he's sleeping?"

"I'll wake him up."

"You're really going to?"

Katy nodded.

"When?"

Katy bolted upright. "You want to watch?"

Amy smiled. "Yes," she said, and then quickly added, "It might help me change the way I feel—to see it."

Katy smiled deviously. "Okay. How about one o'clock?"

"Okay."

When, later, they went into the bathroom together, I crept out of the closet and left for work. I put in a long day, feeling a little bit guilty about not being at work in the morning.

I tried to stay focused, but there's nothing quite like the anticipation of a blowjob.

Unless it's a blowjob from a tall, gorgeous woman with big tits.

Or, better still, a blowjob from a tall, gorgeous woman with big tits whose equally sexy sister is secretly watching.

***

So, we weren't going to be in her bedroom that night, which I regretted a little, because I wanted to fuck Katy. I had seen her body—in action. I wanted it badly. It would have to wait. She was going to come to me on the couch.

I knew I had to play this thing a certain way. I didn't think she would want me to behave in a manner that revealed our previous night encounters. I texted her.

"How should I be tonight?"

She replied: "First time together."

"Gotcha."

"Can't wait. Yum!"

Oh, shit.

***

Katy had worked two bits of magic that I never anticipated while I sat in that closet and watched.

The first was intentional on Katy's part. She got permission to fuck around with me from Amy. The coming blowjob, I expected, could only be the beginning. Plus, I wouldn't have to feel any guilt about the other times with Katy.

The second was not at all intended, but welcome, nonetheless. I now understood how Amy felt about the time when, years ago, she had walked out of my crummy old apartment and out of my life. This was critical in resolving some ugly feelings for me.

I second guessed myself for years, thinking that I had been cruel to her when I fucked her ass—even though she'd practically begged me to do it, to hurt her. In retrospect, I always thought, "This is what some girls do; they tell you to do what they actually don't want you to do." I came to believe that Amy had asked for rough sex, but expected and desired that I would never do it. So, I thought that I'd failed her. I thought the reason she never wrote back to me all those times was because I had ruined our relationship. I thought that I had driven her to Vaughn.

Now, I knew her perspective was a little different. She may not have enjoyed it at the time, she may have been surprised by how aggressive I had been, but she looked back on it with some satisfaction.

I hadn't failed Amy.

Thank you, Katy.

***

I spent a long afternoon and evening at work, not getting back until 9:30pm. I ate a quick dinner, showered, and watched tv with the girls until I fell asleep.

"Michael, wake up."

I opened my eyes, and the first thing they fixed upon was my cock, a hot tower of meat, poking through my boxers at the ceiling. The blanket was somewhere on the floor.

I needed to act surprised.

"Geez! Katy!" I whispered, and then glanced down at my crotch. "Excuse me," I added, covering my dick with my hands. "Is something wrong? Is it Amy?"

"No, she's fine. Nothing's wrong." Katy glanced to her left, behind me to the kitchen. Amy must be there.

"Oh," I said, relaxing. "I'm sorry about that," I added, looking down at my hands.

"I don't mind," she replied, "Actually, it's kind of why I'm here."

I decided not to respond.

Katy looked at my hands, and then she gently moved each one. "I want to help you with that. May I?"

"Is...what about Amy?"

Katy leaned close to me. Those beautiful eyes were full of eagerness. She put her finger over my lips and quietly shushed me. Without breaking eye contact, she reached back and grabbed my cock. "Don't talk, Michael. Enjoy."

She began to stroke me extremely slowly.

"Oh, fuck," I huffed.

"I see this hard cock almost every morning, and it makes my mouth water. I couldn't sleep tonight, thinking about it. I had to do something."

Her hand felt soothingly warm on the shaft, and it moved up and down at a languorous pace.

"I know," she continued, "you're having wet dreams, and a big boy like you shouldn't have to have those. You need a big girl to take care of you."

She let go of me and stood up, walking to the other end of the couch. She spread my legs and knelt between them. Then, she leaned forward on her hands and lowered her head.

She paused, millimeters from my cock, mouth wide open, and she looked up—not at me, at Amy in the kitchen. Then, she closed her eyes and took me in her mouth with a soft "mmm." It was like she tasted rich cake, that sound.

Her hands were on my hips. Mine were behind my head. Katy's mouth held in place about halfway down me, and she reached to my shoulder and drew my arm down. She reached for the other one, and I brought it down. Then, one at a time, she placed my hands on her head, and continued sucking me. I dug my fingers into her lush blonde locks and guided her up and down. Katy sucked me in long, sweeping movements along the shaft. It was like her head was fucking me, really. I let out a long, slow sigh.

Then, she paused again, and she shifted her torso just slightly, and then I felt her nipples on my thighs. Oh, shit. She dragged them in circles through the little hairs on my legs. Then, she lowered her body, and those tits squashed against me. Fuck, they were big.

Katy let my cock fall from her lips. I let go of her head, and she pulled my boxers down, helping my cock through the hole and watching it spring back up. She laid flat on the couch between my legs, and I watched her pull my balls up to her mouth. She kissed each one, softly. Then, she stretched her mouth wide and pushed them inside, one at a time.

"Oh, shit," I whispered. I couldn't believe she fit them in her mouth.

She sucked, gathering the rest of my scrotum between her lips. Her right hand reached around and grasped my cock, stroking slowly.

The sensation was totally new for me. If her mouth was a tight, wet, and warm new lodge for my testicles, then her tongue was the masseuse that worked there. It caressed and bathed my balls. Every so often, her tongue stopped, and her lips sucked and swallowed. I felt my balls pulled toward the back her throat. The tension was achingly exquisite until she released.

All the while, her long fingers, curled into a fist around my cock, stroked me from the base to the tip. Her eyes watched mine, and they were smiling. I saw her hand ride along my shaft, I saw her jaw, gaping wide to contain my entire scrotum inside her lips.

"I'm coming, Katy. Oh, fuck."

She sucked my balls and swallowed one last time, continuing to tug me slowly, and soon, the tip of my cock erupted. My entire body tingled in warmth as my fluids spilled out. Fuck, it felt so good.

With surprising quickness, Katy let my balls free and took the head of my cock between her lips, sucking the final dregs of semen out of me. I gasped and struggled to breathe as my muscles seized up with the ending of my orgasm. It was over.

Katy let the tip out, and her face brightened into the most jubilant smile. Fuck, I thought, she loved pleasing me. Nothing, it seemed, made her more happy than to work her magic on my cock. And that, in itself, made the entire experience even better—to have the woman who did it be so joyfully thrilled to give such pleasure.

I closed my eyes and sighed. I only just then remembered that Amy was watching.

I forgot about Amy again when I felt Katy kissing and licking the cum off me. I watched her. She was thorough. When she finished, she looked up and saw me watching her.

"What? I like it!" she said, as if I were accusing her.

"Thank you, Katy. I really, really needed that," I whispered.

She smiled and said, "Not as much as I did." Then, she stood up beside me and told me to go back to sleep. "Sweet dreams, Michael." She walked around the couch and back to her room. I didn't hear Amy leave.

I fell asleep, never even bothering to put my boxers back on.

The alarm on my phone woke me at 5:00am, and I went in to work for a few hours.

***

Dinner that evening, with all three of us sitting together, was an interesting affair. Katy made pancakes and scrambled eggs with link sausages.

The pancakes were small, each a circle about four inches in diameter. I only mention this detail because, when Katy sat down with her plate, I couldn't help but notice a little arrangement she'd made with her food.

Her two pancakes were slightly overlapped. She had taken only one sausage; it was on the plate pointed directly into the crease where the two pancakes met. Her eggs were in two small lumps under the sausage.

Yes, it looked like a cock and balls pointed into an ass.

"Looks good, doesn't it?" she asked Amy and I, reaching for the syrup.

Amy gave Katy a wry smile and said, "Thanks, Katy. It looks delicious."

I mumbled, "Yeah, thanks." Having already doused mine in syrup, I cut away a bite and ate some.

Katy upturned the bottle of syrup and, very carefully, covered the tip of the sausage in it. Then, she shook the bottle and squirted several blasts of the stuff on each pancake.

I choked on my bite, and then cleared my throat. "Excuse me," I offered, casting a sideways glance at Katy's work. It was pornographic, her creation. I felt Amy give Katy a look across the table. I hazarded the briefest of glances. Amy was fighting back a smile.

"Well, Michael, what do you think of my pancakes?"

"They're perfect. I love them."

"I'm glad," she said. "Mine are pretty firm, and I like it when they're covered in syrup."

When Katy said this, Amy froze, momentarily, with her fork halfway to her mouth. Then, she took a bite. I had another one, too.

Katy said, "I like to keep the sausage between my pancakes to keep it warm." She stabbed the sausage with her fork, and held it up for us both to see.

Amy coughed. She was really trying desperately to stay in control of her laughter. So was I. I just stared straight ahead.

Katy said, "These sausages are pretty juicy. Sometime I like to make a little cut...," and here, she raised her knife and cut a tiny slit in the tip of the sausage, "...and then I can suck the warm juice right out of the hole." Then, she put the sausage in her lips and sucked.

I sort of cough-exploded at that moment, and then I mumbled something about going to the bathroom and left the table, covering my face with my napkin and choking back laughter.

As I turned down the hall, I heard Katy ask, "Ever have one so juicy that it squirted all over your face, Amy?"

I ran through the door and closed it behind me. I turned on the sink for a few seconds, steeling myself, and then I returned to the table.

They acted like nothing happened.

Katy spoke first. "Amy, do you like sausage?"

Amy's eyes widened. Her eyes shifted to me, and then back to Katy. She said, "Yes, Katy. I like sausage a lot."

"I thought you did."

Amy turned to me. "Mike, do you like sausage?"

I couldn't look at either Amy or Katy. I know they were enjoying the hell out of this. I slowly said, "Uh, I like bacon. But, I really like it that you're both into sausage."

Peripherally, I saw Katy's eyes brighten and her face shoot up in Amy's direction.

Katy declared, "Neither of you have tried your eggs. I'm going to try mine." She punched her fork through both of the two lumps on her plate.

Here we go, I thought.

"I always like to have two eggs. I pop them in together, and then I let their flavor just seep into my mouth." She closed her mouth on the eggs and, no shit, didn't chew on them, but sucked on them for a while.

Amy bit down on her lip. I just watched Katy.

Using her fingers, she picked up her sausage and held it, vertically, in front of her face while she continued to roll those eggs insider her mouth with her tongue.

It was a food-based rendition of her services to me in the night.

Amy covered her face with the napkin, her shoulders visibly shaking. Katy quickly swallowed the eggs and took the opportunity to look at me.

She pushed the sausage between her pursed lips, and then winked and smiled. What an instigator she was! But, my gosh, she was beautiful.

I went back to work after dinner—a little surprise for the new swing shift boss I was training. I didn't want any of my shift supervisors to feel like I had a routine. I wanted them constantly wondering when I might pop in to walk the line with them.

I guess I was being a prick, but it wasn't a "gotcha" kind of thing to me. I liked our employees. I wanted to see them work. I wanted them to know that my eyes were on them—not to catch them fucking up, but to see them doing a great job. I also needed my shift bosses to know that I cared about every single line worker. Efficiency, safety, and quality production were on me. I was getting paid really, really well for being 25 years old. I wasn't going to fuck up this job.

On the drive home, I felt uncomfortable. Katy had pushed things really far, really fast. Even though she had gotten permission from Amy to be with me, Katy's behavior at dinner was so suggestive that I wondered about Amy's feelings. She had smiled and laughed, but was that a front?

I got back near midnight. None of the lights were on, and after I changed clothes and washed up, I found myself staring at the door to Katy's room. I needed to talk to her, yes, but I wanted to fuck her.

Amy's door opened. She stood at the threshold, and I completely forgot about Katy. Amy was wearing a body-hugging black tank top and black boy short panties. Men would kill for her.

"Hey," I managed to say.

"Katy's out."

"She is?"

Amy nodded. "Want to come in...just to talk."

I nodded, walking towards her door as she turned around and went inside. I studied how her ass moved in those panties.

Amy pulled a chair over beside her bed, and then slipped under the covers. Again, I stared at her ass until it was hidden by the sheets and blankets. She propped a few pillows behind her and sat up. The sheets slipped down to her belly, and Amy's new breasts, like junior league soccer balls, stretched the center of her night shirt. I had to make a conscious effort to tug my eyes away from them and look Amy in the face. Then, I sat down.

"Can't sleep?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"Thinking about things?"

She nodded.

"Tell me."

She sighed. "It's my body."

"Amy, honest-honest, you are looking more and more healthy every day. You look great. I mean, your hair, just as an example, when you got here? Forgive me, but it looked like...like a really cheap witch costume wig."

Amy exploded in laughter, curling her knees up and rolling her head back against the headboard, eyes shut. "Oh, shit. It was bad, wasn't it?"

"That's my point. It looks thick and full and real again."

She wiped her eyes and thanked me. Then, she said, "No, I know I'm getting better, thanks to you and Katy."

I nodded.

"But, that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about my new body—the changes I made."

"Oh." I glanced at her chest, caught myself, and returned to her face. "What about it?"

"I hate it."

"Tell me why."

"My body is now a constant reminder of...of Vaughn. Every time I look in the mirror, I see his work, the things he made me do to supposedly feel better about myself, and I feel the shame he made me feel."

"That must be horrible, Amy. I'm sorry."

"I feel like I'm his puppet or something, and I'll always be, so long as I look like this."

"The people who care about you—me, Katy, your family—we know who you are. We know you won, Amy. You left him in the fucking garbage, where he belongs. You're free."

"Maybe," she said. "What do you think of my body now, Mike? Honest-honest."

Again, I cast a fleeting glance at her breasts. "I'm torn, Amy. I won't deny that a part of me keeps looking for the old you. Another part of me is very drawn to you. Very."

She nodded, sniffling.

"Amy, is there any part of you—deep down—that looks in the mirror and likes the changes?"

"What do you mean?"

I looked at the full length mirror beside her closet, and then I stood up. I extended my hand, "Come here."

She tossed the sheets aside and took my hand. I led her to the mirror and stood behind her. I guided her forward so that she could focus on her face.

I was thinking of Misha and her good heart, the way she held my hand when I was feeling like a fuck up. I was trying to help Amy the way I know Misha would have.

I said, "Be honest-honest with yourself. Don't think about Vaughn. Don't think about people you know or people you don't know. Don't think about me. Answer this question for you, alone. Does any part of you like this face?"

She studied it.

I said, "Look at your eyes. My gosh, women would kill to have eyes so bright. And your smile. Let's see it. Please, Amy?"

I nudged her in the side, and she giggled and smiled.

"There it is. It's the smile of men's wildest dreams," I urged. "Come on. Now, isn't there any part of you that likes what you see?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"Then save that feeling and throw away the rest. This face is yours now, and it is beautiful." I pointed at the mirror. "That is Amy."

She sniffed and nodded. "Thanks, Mike."

Then, she took a step back and, looking down at her chest, said, "What about these?"

I tried not to look. "If you truly hate them, get rid of them."

Being no doctor, I was assuming that a nose job, unlike a boob job, was somewhat irreversible. I mean, what could they do? Add plastic to the end of your nose? I couldn't see how anyone would want that.

"Mike, why won't you look at them?"

"I don't want to embarrass you...or myself."

"How would you embarrass yourself?" she asked, looking at my reflection in the mirror.

All I could do was shake my head.

Amy turned away from the mirror, facing me. "Look at them, please?"

I did. I looked at them and neither of us spoke. I felt hot. My heart began thumping. My hands felt light and ready to reach up for Amy's breasts. I consciously flexed my shoulders to pin my hands to the sides of my legs.

Amy must have seen my struggle. "You can touch them if you want."

I reached up, and instead of taking her breasts in my hands, I held her shoulders and turned her to the mirror. I stood behind her, my boxers against her ass. I swept her hair away from her neck and kissed her softly, from her shoulder to her neck, and then up behind her ear. My hands reached under her arms and, for the first time, felt the bulging curve of her new breasts. I squeezed them, feeling their mass and realizing one hand would never be enough. They were softer than before. I felt the flesh of Amy's tits squeeze up between my fingers.

I grew hard against Amy's ass.

I let go of her and quickly pulled her shirt over her head, letting her breasts fall free. I ground my front against her back, watching my hands knead her tits in the mirror.

"Oh, fuck, Mike," she moaned.

Her words ignited me. I yanked down her panties and felt the wetness between her thighs. Almost as rapidly, I pulled down my boxers and put the tip of my cock against her, nestled inside the two velvety lips.

"Yes," she pleaded.

I drove inside her, and she pushed back into me. Her pace and mine synchronized almost instantaneously. We were familiar lovers, despite the passage of time. Amy leaned forward, placing her palms against the wall on either side of the mirror, arching her ass into me. I liked seeing her watch herself in the mirror, fucking me and getting fucked. I liked seeing her new breasts absorb the energy of our collisions.