Just Desserts

Throwing out both hands in capitulation, I turned and stalked to the bathroom. From the couch, I heard Ben call after me, "Wait, don't go! How do I get your 'red snapper' back on my menu?"

I closed the bathroom door behind me, then tightly clasped the rim of the sink in both hands as I forced my breathing to steady. Ben was acting like such a brutish dickhead, bullying John - and me! - and behaving like his own ego was the most important thing in the room. I ran the cold water in the sink, filled my palm, then slurped a mouthful and spat it down the drain.

"Red snapper... Jesus, what an asshole." I muttered, taking another drink from the sink. I couldn't believe the things that he - a guest! - had said to me! But worse, John was acting like a total wuss, not standing up for me, and retreating from confrontation, like he always did.

I tried to approach Ben's behavior from a mature perspective. "I just need to ignore him. Guys like him act like that for the attention." I imagined how John must have looked, squirming while recalling Ben fucking his prom date. An impish grin surprised me, creeping across my lips. Ben with his broad shoulders and big hands. Ben with his white, even teeth and Black Card. The bigger, stronger friend, abusing John and brazenly objectifying me...

My smile broadened and an uninvited fluttering excitement swelled deep in my belly. "But bullies' behavior shouldn't be rewarded... right?" I considered fleetingly. I snapped out of my daze and realized I'd been in the bathroom too long. I took a last mouthful of cool water, spit down the drain, then shut off the tap and returned to the living room.

The boys were chatting conspiratorially when I returned.

"...it's not that, I just don't think she'd be into it..." John was disclaiming while Ben glared at him insistently. The larger friend had moved aggressively into the center of the couch. His muscular form loomed over my boyfriend as John fought off whatever idea had passed between them. They noticed my presence and turned in unison as I approached.

"Heyyyyy, we were just talking about you!" Ben flashed his carnivorous grin.

"Dude! Stop! I just said-" John tried to talk over him, but Ben raised his hand and silenced him. Still smiling and holding my gaze, the bigger man moved back to his end of the sofa and patted the middle cushion invitingly. John wore a mixed expression of dread, fear, and anticipation. Confused but curious, I ticked my heels across the hardwood to the couch, then sat between them.

Ben half-turned his body toward me, folding one of his legs onto the seat between us. His gaze traveled freely over my legs and body, momentarily lingering on my eyes, as if testing the temperature of my mood. On my other side, John hunched over his own knees, forearms on his thighs, staring at the floor between his shoes. No one spoke for an extended moment. Holding his mostly-empty glass in front of his mouth, Ben broke the silence.

"Are you going to tell her what we were talking about?" he asked John before swallowing the rest of his beer. He set the sweating glass down on the table - again next to the coaster - then looked past me to his friend. I joined him in turning to look inquiringly at my boyfriend. John very obviously did not want to have to speak.

Clearing his throat, his voice cracked before finally finding traction. "Well, you see, Ben, he's a bit of a... see, he runs in different circles... New York, and all." He tittered nervously.

Ben rested one arm behind me on the back of the couch as he coolly picked lint off his pantleg and flicked it onto my floor. He seemed in no hurry, willing to let John dangle and stammer while getting to the point. John's face flushed deep pink from booze and embarrassment. He choked down a mouthful of beer to wet his mouth before continuing.

"So... at the bar, Ben was talking about Ingrid, this girl he knows, like *knows*," John emphasized, and I nodded that I understood, "Anyway, Ben was talking about how they got, like, 'creative.'" He tilted his head back as he shook the last drops of beer into his mouth, then set the glass on the coaster as he swallowed. "So, a guy we knew from high school - Ricky, is his name. I guess that doesn't matter - anyway, Ricky was visiting New York, and they ran into her while they were out drinking and they... all three of them... like, got together... you know..."

I flinched and sat forward, surprised as Ben's hand brushed my auburn hair away from my shoulders. His warm, strong fingers gripped the back of my neck, massaging gently, but with a tinge of control behind his touch. Recovering from my initial surprise, I turned in my seat with my back to the guest, gathering my hair over my shoulder and allowing him to rub my bare skin.

Noticing the warming interaction between me and Ben, John pushed forward with his speech. "Hearing Ben talk about it, I said it sounded like... I dunno, like fun...?" Ben's thumb dug pleasingly into my shoulder. I closed my eyes and breathed softly through my nose, enjoying his unexpectedly soothing touch as John went on. "When I said that, Ben proposed that..." Here, John lost his nerve. I stared intently at my boyfriend, watching beads of sweat dot John's forehead.

I felt Ben shift on the cushion behind me. His second hand joined in massaging my shoulders; his fingertips pressed my flesh through my flimsy cardigan. Working my shoulder muscles, his fingers flicked my bra strap through the thin wool as they passed.

Suppressing a roused moan, I forced John to make eye contact. "What did Ben propose, John?" I was going to force him to say it; I could be a bully, too. Ben's thumbs rotated in delicious unison, digging and dancing into my shoulder blades. My head rolled in blissful little arcs atop neck. A gentle, seeping warmth reemerged between my legs.

"Ben said if I was into it, we - you and me - we should try that... with him." John rushed the words out as though they burned his mouth. He caught his breath, then added, "but I told him that you weren't the kind of girl who'd agree to that. I mean, right? I know you've never done anything like that..."

Giggling flirtatiously, I dodged the incriminating question.

From behind me, Ben interjected, "I, on the other hand, told John that his lady was more worldly than he gives you credit for. I could definitely see you with two guys... mmmm, and loving it!"

I blushed at his suggestion; Ben had unknowing touched on my history that I kept a closely protected secret from John. The melting in my panties spread as I reflected on hidden memories. Ben's palm thumped assertively down the knolls of my spine, crossing the clasped band of my bra with a gentle snag. I shot him a skeptical smile over my shoulder, judging that snag wasn't an accident.

"What about you, John?" I asked, pursing my lips as I paused to let him think. "Is that something you want?" Ben's hands were now tilling the softness below my ribs, dipping steadily lower toward my waist. I fidgeted in my seat, my stockinged left thigh pushing out from beneath my short, black skirt as my knee scraped across the cushion toward my petrified boyfriend.

John's eyes fixated on the retreating skirt as he nodded 'yes.' I felt a draft up my back as daylight cracked between my sweater and the waist of my skirt. Ben's hands slipped under the back of my cardigan, caressing the silky flesh above my waist. His hot breath wafted at the back of my neck, tickling the small, downy hairs behind my ear as he leaned forward and spoke.

"Come on, John! Don't be such a pussy; man up!" Ben bullied again as his hands slithered across my bare skin.

"Yeah, John. Sack up and say it! Yeek!" I squealed as Ben mischievously pinched the bare, ticklish meat on my hipbone. I playfully swatted at his hand beneath my sweater but didn't fight them as they roamed. The buttons at my front strained as the delicate wool stretched over Ben's wandering hands. His finger brushed against the skit's button closure at my hip. It was joined by his thumb, pinching the plastic disc then pausing; his hand awaited further instruction.

John nodded again, licked his lips, then wheezed dryly, "Yes. That is what I want."

Crooking a finger at John, I beckoned him closer to me. "Well, if this is what you want..." I whispered throatily. I placed John's hands on my thighs.

The fingers of Ben's left hand flicked, unfastening the button of my skirt. His right hand moved north beneath my cardigan, sliding from my hip, over my tummy, then achingly inching from the underwire of my bra to its lacy cup. I moaned at his touch, leaning backwards into our guest. Reaching behind my head, my long, red-painted nails stroked and scratched Ben's chiseled jaw. As Ben's palm caressed my breast through its lace wrapping, his left hand departed the released button at my waist. Traversing patiently over my ribs, his fingers tented my cashmere, closing over my second globe. Though his face was behind me, I heard the wide smile in Ben's breathing as he played with my tits through my bra. Chewing my bottom lip in pleasure, I boosted my chest outward into his strong hands.

John massaged my legs with increasing enthusiasm as he watched his friend's mitts fondling my breasts beneath my cardigan. His fingers crawled beneath the edge of my miniskirt, following the nylon path of my stockings up my legs. A wide smile burst across his face as he discovered the lacy bands at the top of my hose. Grinning eagerly, John gripped the hem of my pleated skirt and tugged. I lifted my butt off the cushion, allowing him to pull the skirt down my stockinged legs and past my black high heels. John neatly folded the garment and set it on the coffee table.

I squirmed under Ben's attention to my breasts, feeling my thong retreat deeper into my crack as my butt shifted. The ribbed weave of the couch's twill fabric scratched against my bare cheeks. My belly bubbled with excitement and my pussy had soaked through the lace crotch of my thong.

Bottomless on the sofa between my boyfriend and his bullying buddy, I took John's hands in my own again. I guided one hand to the column of buttons closing the front of my cardigan. Plying his fingers with my own, I directed him in unfastening the top button, then nodded silent confirmation as his hand dropped timidly to the next. His fingers shook with eager nerves as he opened my sweater, gradually revealing Ben's hands busily molesting my bust.

I guided John's other hand up my inner thigh, past the elastic ribbed lace at the top of my stocking, then along the pale soft skin of my loins. I knew John could feel the heat radiating from my excited pussy. Steering his palm to the crotch of my panties, I swiveled my hips and thrust my drenched snatch against his hand. John needed to feel how wet his friend was making me.

As his palm felt the swampy heat inside my thong, his other hand nimbly plucked open the last of my buttons. The halves of my sweater separated languidly, opening a widening area of pale skin. The tops of my white breasts swelled above the scalloped black lace of the bra's cups. Ben's hands continued zealously kneading and mashing my doughy mounds. His fingers tugged the edges of lace down the supple orbs, threatening to expose my pale pink nipples.

John dutifully pushed the sweater from my shoulders, then pulled the sleeves down my arms, taking pains not to disturb Ben's enjoyment of my breasts while doing so. Looking around uncertainly, he folded the cardigan, laid it on the coffee table next to my discarded skirt, then turned back to us. My bra strap had sagged from my shoulder and, capitalizing on the relaxed band, Ben had wrested the connected cup off my breast and wedged the lace shell beneath the pale globe. The white flesh of my naked tit squeezed between his fingers as he delighted in his bare plaything.

Seeing that the bra no longer served a useful purpose, I reached to my back and unlocked the hook-and-eye clasp. Eager to be useful, John swept the slack bands off my shoulders, then timidly waited with his arms hovering between us. Ben lifted his hands minimally from my chest and the loose bra cups wilted and dropped away from my round, snowy tits. As the straps slid down my arms and hung limply from my elbows, John gingerly plucked the satin strips, pulled the bra free of my arms, then carefully placed it on the table on top of my folded sweater.

John reached for my naked breasts, but I shook my head. "No. Not for you yet." I whispered leaning back against Ben's broad chest. John's eyes brimmed with frustration, focusing on the tantalizing prize that he had been denied. Ben's hands swooped back to my chest, scooping up twin, overflowing handfuls of my jugs. He groaned with delight.

"Fuuuuuuuuck, these things are incredible!" Ben boasted. I let out a lusty squeal in response as he squeezed my ripe mounds, plucking and rolling my nipples between his thumbs and fingers. Craning one arm behind me, I scratched my nails at the back of Ben's neck. John's fingers tentatively rested above my knees.

Turning in my seat and resting my other foot on the floor, I moved my back away from Ben's chest, instead leaning back on the couch. As his reach to my far breast was cut off, Ben focused his attention on the nearer of the pair. His palm flattened and rolled my fleshy sphere, his other hand pawed at my lower back and impatiently strummed the crenated lace of my thong. Ben's mouth hungrily closed on my bare shoulder, leaving a trail of saliva as he skimmed across my skin to the base of my throat.

Tilting my head back and purring in enjoyment of the other man's attention, I grasped John's wrist and slowly steered his hand over my body. Beginning at my thigh, we crossed the elastic top of my stockings, climbed the bare skin of my adductor, then the black lace waistband of my thong. He exhaled impatiently through his nostrils as our pace dawdled, pausing agonizingly with his fingertips on my belly. I guided his hand across my tummy, bumping across my ribs, until, finally, his fingertips grazed the soft lower bulb of my bosom.

A wide grin broke across his face as I released his wrist and nodded. His fingers walked tenderly up the round slope, reaching the faded pink nipple at the breast's center. Spreading his hand, he covered as much of my pale, round dome as he could manage. Cautiously, like he expected me to withdraw my assent - or for Ben to reclaim dominion over my second breast - John gently stroked my tit; a look of elated awe on his face, as if he was experiencing it for the first time. My eyes closed into gratified slits at the dual attention to my bust.

Ben's lips rounded a path below my neck inside the brim of my clavicle, reached the center dip of my throat, then turned south. He kissed wetly down my chest, following the bony divot of my sternum. As he reached the foothills where my tits rose off my breastbone, he veered back to "his" side of my chest. His lips and tongue caressed the white skin of my boob, traveling across the slope until he arrived at the sensitive teat. With a sly glance to my face, Ben flicked his tongue, encircling my nipple as his lips enveloped the areola. His hand clutched and molded the firm flesh of my breast below his busy mouth.

"Mmmmmmffffffff..." I rumbled. I grabbed the back of Ben's head, digging my fingers into his hair as I crammed his mouth onto my breast. John sat awkwardly beside us, his hand idly groping my tit while he watched his friend lapping at my bust. Craving more attention, I looped my free arm behind his shoulders and pulled his face downwards. John sputtered in surprise as my funbag bumped bullishly at his cheek and eye. Grasping a rough fistful of his hair in my fingers, I directed his mouth to my nipple, gasping as I pressed my nub between his accepting lips.

Each man suckled at my rack with my hand at the back of his head. A boiling pleasure was emanating from my sensitive breasts, dripping downwards through my body and leaking out warmly between my thighs. Though the men played in harmony, the contrast in their demeanors remained clear. Ben ravenously slurped at my tit, his tongue lustily lashing the responsive nipple. But John was still behaving nervously in the presence of the bully and required direction. My hand forced his face against my breast, feeding my nipple into his mouth. John nursed carefully at my teat, his lips puckering around the nub as he sucked at my bosom.

While his hand on my back continued its stymied toying with the waist of my panties, Ben's other dropped from my bust and examined the soaking patch of lace between my legs. His fingers prodded and plowed, digging into my wetness through the lace of my thong. The sensation of two tongues and pairs of lips simultaneously thrilling each of my nipples had flooded my panties. Ben raised his fingers from my crotch and flaunted the greasy slick coating his fingertips.

Ben lifted his mouth from my tit. "She fucking loves it, bro." He bragged, rubbing my pussy through my panties and smiling at the soggy sound his fingers made in the quiet room.

I refused to free John's mouth to answer, but he agreed with the bully in a muffled, "Muhf fhuhf."

My stilettos scuffed on the hardwood as my excitement mounted. The searing ache in my loins was escalating, lifting me off the couch and toward the floor. As I rose, the bully's grip on my waistband yanked my panties crooked and partway down my hip.

I stood, then rotated until I faced my company. Standing in all black - stockings, heels, and askew lace thong - I paused, in front of and above the two men. My hands crept to my breasts, rubbing the tracks of still-wet saliva from my nipples. Both men watched me with immense anticipation.

Descending to my knees in front of the empty center cushion, I ushered each of them toward the middle of the couch. Kneeling before them, each of my hands, as a team, tracked a patient course from a knee and up the thigh. The front of Ben's pants tented over a throbbing hard-on that extended down his leg and quivered as my fingers passed over it. As my hand on John's leg passed along his inner-thigh, I was pleased to find his dick diamond-hard; in fact, John felt the hardest I could remember him.

My nimble fingers unzipped both flies, and each man jumped to assist in getting their pants off. In a flurry of motion and limbs, both men kicked away their shoes, socks, and slacks and pulled off their shirts. The dust settled and I found myself topless and on my knees between the two naked friends.

I studied the pair of anticipatively waving pricks. Ben's was a thick, veiny creature that jutted aggressively from his crotch. Next to him, John's trembling, rigid erection beckoned familiarly, but - like its owner - appeared nervous and unassertive next to his intimidating neighbor. Ben's stare briefly left my heaving tits, and he barely stifled a chuckle as he assessed his friend.

"Jesus, John," he asked with laughter in his voice as his eyes swiveled between my tits and John's member, "are you sure your parents aren't rich?"

"Oh, stop that..." I scolded feebly. Reaching forward, I took each man's cock into my hands, stroking firmly and assessing them. In my right hand, John's rod shuddered stiffly with eager energy. Whereas, in my left, Ben's pipe throbbed with vulgar power, like a promise of violence. The angry purple head oozed a sheen of precum; lubrication for an implement of war.

Massaging both shafts enthusiastically, I leaned forward between the male laps. They sat close enough that as I bowed, my teats dragged across one of each's knee and thigh. The touch of their warm skin scraping past my sensitive nipples sent an exhilarating chill up my spine.

I paused my caress and looked up to each man's face. John's eyes brimmed with meek anticipation and desire. On my other side, Ben's eyes glowered demanding and insistent, arrogantly expecting what was rightfully his. A warm flutter below my belly countered the chill and urged me on.