Lexi Takes Back Thanksgiving

Glass dishes clinked and clattered against stainless steel as my hands explored the foggy lake to find the clogged sink stopper. My patience grew thin alongside my ever-chipping nail polish. The maroon paint weakly clung to my fingers despite the erosion it endured with these mundane tasks. I sighed at my very exhaustion. Rolling my neck from side to side, I fantasized about my fiancé's fingers grooving intricate circles into the tops of my shoulders.

Then working his way to the blades...

Down the curve of my spine...

Down my lower back, tracing my youthfully regretful tramp stamp...

"Hey Lexi, anymore beer?" The fantasy came to an abrupt halt with one of Ron's scruffier friends leaning against the kitchen threshold. I couldn't tell if he angled himself adjacent to the trim of the doorway to look appealing or if he was simply trying to steady his drunken balance. He wasn't handsome, but not bad at all with his angular face and honey wheat locks. Instead, it was something about his demeanor that left a sailor's knot in the pit of my stomach. I didn't care for how he looked at me like I was meek prey, and he, a natural hunter. I swear his signature smirk existed solely to make women uncomfortable. Cruelty resides in the lines on his palms and his forehead, undoubtedly revealing his age. Whenever his icy eyes meet mine, they warn me that someday... somehow... he will be in between my legs with or without my approval. I shuddered at the thought.

I did a mental eye roll at his idiotic question. Anymore beer? You'd know that a hell of a lot better than I would since you're the one that's been drinking us out of house and home lately, bud. I motioned to the fridge with the side nod of my head. My messy bun flopped a little with the movement sending cascades of chocolate hair into a frenzy. Untamed strands had become my usual halo these days.

Bottles rattled from inside the refrigerator door as the stooped lush tried to pick a flavor of nipple to suckle on for the next half hour. I wanted him out of my kitchen. Out of my house. Out of my life.

"Kenny! You're missing the game!" howled Luke from his reserved seat on my grey suede sectional. Luke, on the other hand, was a beloved favorite of Ron's friends. He has only ever treated the women in his life with the utmost respect. He does not call me babe or honey -- unlike some creeps. There are no jokes at my expense. Hell, that man even holds doors open for me when he has the chance to. Not to mention, his timid features have a certain softness to them that just makes him trustworthy.

Kenny snatched an amber ale from the side door and jumped up excitedly only to almost tumble once again. "Thaaaanks." He slurred in slow motion staggering back into the living room, poison in hand.

I shook my head and peered down the counter at the assortment of soiled metal and porcelain that stretched to the stove. The hopelessness of the situation sunk in as I realized I was going to be at this all night. I ran a one -- woman show catering Turkey Day dinner this morning. Turkey, mom's special homemade dressing, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole with French fried onions on top, buttery mashed potatoes, and a decadent chocolate cake. The works. Ladies on both sides of the family offered help, but I was determined to be a big girl and do my first at-home holiday alone. That would show them all. Ron's new fiancé isn't just a dumb little girl, no sir.

Don't get me wrong, cooking sets my heart on fire. There is nothing more satisfactory than watching hungry stomachs delve fork-first into my appetizers, moan during my entrees, and beg for more dessert. Our friends and family usually wrap compliments up like gifts, crooning over me. Making cute little cliché jokes to Ron about how much of a keeper I am. But I'm not deaf to the whispers or blind to the exchanged looks. Either way, there is nothing I love more than being the star of the show. Waking up at five in the morning to get the bird in the oven is a sacrifice I'm willing to make if I can have a day of admiration and gossip from our most cherished people. The dishes, on the other hand, are a downside to all this that I'm still heavily weighing.

I picked up a butter knife out of the filmy water and swiped it clean with the sponge. My weight shifted to my other hip, locking it in place and causing my ass to stick out as a perfect half circle. It's no secret that I'm the hot one among all the wives between my fiancé and his buddies. We have an 11-year age difference placing me at 22 compared to his 33. While the other ladies match their husband's numbers and sink into mom sweats or spit-up covered shirts, I flash my tight booty around in yoga leggings. I wouldn't be surprised if they insecurely ogle my social media accounts. They probably sit there wondering if their partners are jerking off to the same pictures in the next room over. Who could blame them though? Even with these dark circles carved under my eyes and frizz crowning me, I still blow them out of the water. Not to mention my rather voluptuous curves.

Speaking of wives, I was surprised not to see Kenny's at all. She didn't show up with him for reasons unknown to us. Luke's family left earlier that day to get a head start on Black Friday shopping. Mary extended the offer out for me to accompany her and the girls, but I declined. I never really enjoyed her plain-Jane personality or that of her minis. She told Luke she was headed home after that and he responded by saying he'd catch her after the game. My question was which damn game? It seemed like football was just a never-ending hell eager to ruin my special time to sparkle. The TV has been booming from at least one o' clock this afternoon with scores, whistles, and car commercials.

Add that and the family we've had in and out making their rounds and you end up with a very cranky Lexi. The pattern seems to be that they stop by, build mountainous plates of food, let their kids run rampant, and then frantically sweep off to the next relatives. My soon-to-be-in-laws swung around to give us the usual quirky conversation and compliment the meal. Grandpa fell asleep on the chair only to be awoken from his slumber and whisked off with one of the sets of cousins. The chaotic day was finally coming to an end entertainment-wise. Only Luke and Kenny remained, both of which honestly weren't worth my energy to try to vacate from my house much like Fred-The-Mouse who dwells in our basement.

My maple eyes glazed over, back hunched gazing out of the window. There was delicately sweet snowfall eager to cover the leafy blanket of earth that I could just make out in the dusk. Thoughts of last night's conversation veered into my head interrupting my complaint of backaches.

Ron laid next to me in the darkness of our bedroom where we always shared our late-night chats. His hand rested high on my upper thigh, thumb stroking my vulva through my panties. I prematurely felt the arousal rush in as the silk dampened, flushed with my juices.

"Tell me a fantasy." I whispered.

He laid in silence. I assumed thinking up a steamy shower story to start our foreplay for the night. Minutes came and went before I drew the conclusion that he was not amounting to his usual witty self. I saw the gears turning in his brain while he searched for unused words in dusty piles of his cerebrum. There was a tension resting between us that I didn't quite understand.

"A real one?" He questioned, no doubt stalling.

"Uh, yeah baby. What's a dream you have of us."

"Well," He hesitated again.

This is going to be good. I posed my fingers in their stroking position, ready for takeoff.

"The guys think you're so sexy, Lex." He gushed. The dam of stress from moments ago let loose, sending my mind in a frenzy with the crashing waves.

My fences went up. "And?" I questioned a little more defensively than I ever had before. We have always prided our relationship on open communication. It has been a trust building process from the start to spill our darkest fantasies but as a result we are a kinky, understanding, sexual couple. A pang of guilt hit me. "I'm sorry. Why are you bringing that up?"

"They were just talking about how hot you are. It makes me proud to have you. I love to show you off." He glazed his suggestion in flattery. He did not want to come out and say it.

"Baby, what's this fantasy?" I was tired of beating around the bush and slightly uncomfortable.

Even in the dark I could see the cherry red embarrassment coating Ron's cheeks. "I think about how hot it would be if you, you know, like wore little sexy stuff in front of them or if you dropped something and stuck your ass out to pick it back up. Its hot that all my friends want you. You're a tease babe." Repulsion came accompanied by an unexpected horniness that I could not cast away.

I ended the conversation with a ferocious make out session. The subject was dropped entirely after my lips met his dick about two minutes later. Little did I know a seed had been planted in my head.

Now I stood here scrubbing a wine glass, shifting from one foot to another. Not out of soreness but because I could feel my Pink thong soaking through. The rubbing was phenomenal against the inside seam of my form-fitting plaid night shorts. I repressed a moan from my throat. All those guys out there wanted me. A sudden primal urge shot through me like I was a cat in heat.

What if I showered and walked right past them naked, soaking wet because 'we didn't have any towels'? Or what if I took Ron in our room and had loud, dirty sex with him so that they could all hear? I shook my head. No. But what if...

There was no turning my brain off. I felt wild for Ron's dick.

I need it.

Now.

An explosion of cheers boomed from the next room over and I could only assume the team scored a touchdown. A chef knife simultaneously floated out of its den masked by a cluster of sunflower printed plates and bit at me like an eel. I jerked my hand out of the dirty water involuntarily spraying it all over my front half. Soap matted my loose strands of hair. Ron's stolen ratty white t-shirt was soaked exposing my naked breasts through the thin cotton.

"Shit." I hissed. My anger diffused into curiosity. I paused as a cartoon lightbulb popped over my head. Bing. A terrible idea came to mind -- I was going to take back my attention from stupid football. I was going to save my Thanksgiving. Dammit, I was going to make my man's fantasy come true.

My petal pink nipples pulsed through the sudsy translucent rag clinging to my body. Plush C-cups poked out perfectly. The adrenaline hit me shifting into sexual energy. Everyone was about to see how on much of a tease I really was.

I marched out to the living room and planted myself alongside the couch in a Wonder Woman pose. Three men sat glued to the glowing hues of the screen surrounded by a desert of empty chip bags. Ron was the first to glance over when I obnoxiously fake coughed. Entranced by the game, his eyes shifted back to the screen one more time before realizing I looked like the winner of a wet t-shirt contest. The television light proudly reflected off of my nipples making them pop in the darkness.

His mouth dropped, closed, and opened again. By now Kenny and Luke had caught on, staring with wide eyes. Ron jumped into action.

"Baby, let's get you a dry shirt." He proposed, failing at blocking me from the other spectators. His begging hand rested on the small of my back. I pulled him in and kissed him hard instead, grinding against his screaming erection. Then I proceeded to shimmy out of my girly boxers and thong. They dropped to the floor with minor thud. Football still decorated the blinding screen but all eyes were fixed on me.

"Um, we should go." Luke said nervously gripping the purple sofa pillow covering his lap.

Kenny nodded from the other end of the couch, sobered up and interested. The reluctance of Luke's tone gave me all I needed to know for this tiny experiment. They felt obligated to leave but their strained looks desperately said otherwise.

"No, sit and enjoy Thanksgiving with us just a little while longer. I never get to hang out with all of you guys at once." I purred.

My fiancé was at a loss, flying high between fantasy and whether he was actually okay with this. Without much objection I roped him into another make out session. His tongue glided deeply into my mouth, mixing with my own. Saliva enameled our lips in a thin coat projecting a series of smacking noises out to our audience.

New sensations shot through my pussy. This was hot.

I broke Ron's kiss to check on the boys. Kenny acclimated quickly to the situation. His thick tattooed forearm vigorously shook up and down controlling his mammoth cock. I met his cold eyes after a long gaze at his member and saw that they had been on me the whole time. I tried not to blush, to be confident, a sexy fantasy come true. However, I became apprehensive remembering the smirk he gave me almost daily. I squirmed.

Luke reluctantly sat with his legs spread out in a typical guy pose with the pillow still resting on his lap, slowly bobbing. I glimpsed at him catching his baby blues. He looked at me like a kid who had been caught stealing. I did a sultry stroll his way and bent down gently kissing him. It distracted him enough for me to rip the grape pillow off exposing his baggy unzipped pants and package resting right on top of his waistband. A soft moan escaped and thick honey oozed out of the tip of his dick.

"Oh god." He muttered under his breath. "I have a wife, Lex." Protest hid in his words as I climbed to his side on the couch and sent his dick straight to the back of my throat.

My ass faced Ron and Kenny who exchanged baffled looks before Ron asserted himself as an alpha-male. The juice of my dripping tight pussy made it effortless for my fiancé to slide in. He let out a guttural moan. Luke's member swelled deep in my throat and Ron clutched my hips for support. His dick started ramming me. My knees dug into the couch cushion, already summoning redness.

What had I gotten myself into? I was surrounded by men much older than me with an abundance of experience. What if I suck? What if they laugh at me? Tremors of insecurity scattered through my psyche.

Kenny stroked himself. "Lexi, you're such a fucking slut. Look at you. Giving your fiancés best friend head while he fucks you."

Pleasure pulled me every which way. I looked up making eye contact with him just as he stepped closer forcing me to stare at his enlarged girth.

"I'm going to cum in every part of you." He threatened aiming his dick at me.

Luke fisted my bun reluctantly pushing my head down onto his shaft. I was beginning to wake his inner animal. I could put money on his wife never doing this for him. He was a cluster of moans and guilt which only made me want to fuck him more and better than anyone ever had.

Ron's fingers were turning white from digging into my hips. I immediately knew there would be purple souvenirs from tonight. It made me giddy all over again.

"Oh shit!" Ron shouted as he quickened still slamming in and out as hard as he could manage. The clap of my ass echoed with one last pump and he exploded filling my pussy with his warm cum. He tried to collapse on top of me, but Kenny practically pushed him out of the way to replace his stance behind me. He was too tired to care.

"Come here baby girl." Kenny anchored down my sagging hips and sore rear end repositioning me to sit on my knees while the head of Luke's dick came up for air, brimming in my mouth. Fear set in. This was too ambitious of me. I started to freeze up not sure I could handle this endurance test much longer.

Luke was nearing his climax, but I pulled him out to reason with Kenny.

"Ken, maybe this wasn't a good idea. My hips are sore and so is my pussy." I started whining. I shot Ron a help-me look but he shook his head from his placement on our coffee table and refocused on his second erection.

What the hell.

"That's alright, I'm just going to rail you in your ass." He cracked at me. "and poor Lukey over here, you just stopped him from cumming with your loud mouth. He and I are going to teach you a lesson."

An overwhelming wind of sexual tension caught my breath. Kenny ripped my asshole with his thickness but the pain was replaced by cloud of pleasure. Fatigue livened once again as he made short fast hits against my spread cheeks. His balls spanked my pussy making it quiver each time. In between the hits I began rubbing my clit in fast frantic circles begging for release before they switched me off once again. I cried out.

A war raged in my brain. I don't know how much more of this I can take! It is so undeniably satisfying though.

"You're just a dirty fucking whore, aren't you?" Kenny taunted me squeezing my shoulders for support. He caught sight of my arm underneath me.

"Look at you, you're playing with yourself, aren't you? We're sorry. You poor baby, you wanna come too." I nodded almost to tears.

"Please guys. I want to cum so bad. Please!" I desperately pleaded as I felt the flush overpower me. I was so damn close.

"What do you think, guys?" Kenny asked. They nodded in agreeance.

He sped way up destroying my asshole with each new blow. "Oh baby girl!" He strained.

Luke almost scalped me shoving himself in my throat repeatedly. Faster and faster. "Lexi!" He forewarned before shooting a massive load of cream down the back of my throat. I swallowed it instantly to avoid choking. "Lexi! Oh god Lexi!"

This was too fucking much.

The concoction of the pain from Kenny, pleasure from Luke, mixed with the build up of my own orgasm sent me over the edge. Kenny burst into me as I spiraled out of control.

Clawing at anything within my reach, including his hairy leg, I thrashed and screamed until I ended up on my back completely mind blown. In a chain reaction of the events my fiancé jolted up from his perch and stood over me deliriously jerking his cock.

"Fuck!" He shot off his second round coating my face and chest. Gobs clung to the top of Luke's hand, who had been stroking my hair in a daze. He withdrew it, repulsed and broken from his trance. The room had fallen into a mess of heavy breathing in a mist of sex.

Kenny panted, spent and dowsed in sweat from the other side of the sectional. "Shit, girl."

The bodies of exhausted men all touched me in some way as they faded in and out of consciousness. I peered around with heightened confidence. This must be how a goddess feels.

Minutes melted but we existed in silence, afraid to ruin our special Thanksgiving night. My ringtone snapped us back into reality. The screen lit up exposing a time was well after midnight. I answered to hear Mary's irritated voice on the other side.

"Is the game over yet? Because I'm pretty sure it ended at eleven." She nagged. I just got face fucked by your husband, bitch. Luke deserves better.

I rolled my eyes wiping someone's semen off my cheek. "Hi Mary. Yes. Luke just had one too many, so I have him camped out on the couch. I'm sorry. I should've called sooner but I was cleaning up and lost track of time."

I winked at him and let my fingers explore his thigh. Another hard-on was in the works. He bit his lip torn between guilt and lust while I conversed with his wife. My fingers made a fist wrapping around his cock once more. He shook.

"If it's alright with you I figured he would just stay the night. I don't know how the roads are."

Some more bitching, an agreeance, and then a short unpleasant hang up ended the call. I got on my knees letting my boobs outline his veiny member. His sinful eyes greeted mine just as I was impaled by Kenny signaling round two.