Life as a New Hire Ch. 09

She was working out how many drinks she'd have to take before she could justify to the rest of the world she was drunk when I fucked her...while she got to full enjoy the experience. Oh...was I with Libra? Not only can guys not trust me with their girlfriends, girlfriends can't trust their girl friends around me either.

I've had girlfriend's roommates invite me over to rendezvous with my girl only to discover my girl was busy...but the roommate wasn't. Maybe I'm not a pig. Maybe I'm an amoeba - thoughtless and all-devouring.

"Let's go out for some drinks," Libra suggested. Oh, I was having a three-way. Wait!

"Maybe you could call Marla?" I looked to Libra. "Honestly, I don't know either of you that well and she could help fill in some of the gaps?" Translation: Can we please make this a four-way?

"Good idea," Libra blushed slightly. Yay me! It turned out that Marla could be with us in an hour.

The bar scene was dead - it wasn't even five pm yet - so Libra put in an order for some liquor from a delivery service - huh? Libra asked me what I wanted to drink. I said I only drank moonshine, or, if that wasn't available, turpentine. She promised me some aged Scotch. Libra and I sat patiently in the taxi ride to Libra's place as Brooke bitched endlessly.

I think what impressed Libra the most was my ability to engage Brooke successfully while she spat venom over the entire spectrum of all things 'Trent'. Men, college, Carnegie-Mellon, fraternities...Brooke heatedly ask if I was a frat-boy. I inquired if Beer Drinking Clubs counted and she chuckled. She jumped right back to the 'bitchy', but we'd crested the wave.

We three were working through the uncertain status of who would/should do what to who as we sat around Libra's apartment. Added to that was Libra and Brooke using every tentacle of social media to castrate and castigate Trent. Trent made some half-assed counterattacks (he was on his way to the airport), his 'bros' rallied to his cause, Brooke's sorority rallied to hers, and billions of electrons died for no real purpose except to feed two people's impassioned egos.

"Cáel, could you get the door?" Libra requested. Since the two ladies were going full-blown agro on their phones and I was merely crippled, I hobbled to the door of Libra's posh crib. It was Marla. I opened the door and her eyes rounded in surprise.

"Cáel," she mumbled. Her eyes flicked down, took in my bulge, my limp then followed me inside.

"Is the leg - okay?" Marla asked. Libra waved while she kept talking. Brooke didn't even do that much. I doubted Marla wanted an in-depth medical report.

"It's strong enough," I grinned hungrily. That's what she wanted to know.

"Good," she exhaled happily. She dropped her bag, leapt on me, her legs wrapping around my waist, her arms linked behind my head and her tongue darted into my mouth to play with mine.

I staggered back while my hands cupped each of Marla's jean-clad ass cheeks and began to knead them. Her crotch throbbed against my hard-on. Marla was quickly making these precious little throttled moaning noises heralding her sexual need. I was peripherally aware of the conversation in the room dying down.

"I want to fuck," Marla panted. Misinterpreting that was nearly impossible. Cleverly, I had done an earlier reconnaissance, spotted the bedroom while pretending to look for the bathroom. There was also a nice sofa in the entertainment room, just in case, plus the kitchen counter was at a fuckable level. I turned and limped to Libra's bedroom carrying an encircling Marla.

Since I wanted to fuck all three, I didn't bother kicking the door shut. Erotic sound effects were fine. Leaving the door open was a magnet to their voyeuristic carnality. Soaking up Marla undressing was a cornucopia of information too. She wanted aggressive coitus, was soaking wet from masturbating on the drive down, and was expecting my ultimate effort.

This was a combination of 'I'm lonely and it is your fault' sex and 'make-up' sex. I stole a glance at Libra's bedside clock. Marla jumped backwards onto the middle of the king-sized bed. I pursued her as rapidly as my wound would allow. This didn't even take a Year One effort from me. I pushed her down, she kissed the hell out of me, hands grasping my ears, and I sent my fingers after her pussy.

My two fingers had trouble in their penetration - she'd been abstaining from sex for a while. I managed to scoop out some juices and rub them all over her clitoris. I really do have a gift for memorizing the sexual details of every woman I've encountered. It is a real pity there isn't a Nobel Prize for that. There should be.

At 58 seconds, Marla howled. She always had good lungs. I followed that up by pushing her arms over her head while she was still coming down from her climax. I rained down butterfly kisses on her triceps, just how she liked it. She was humping up against me and whining piteously as I kept working her over.

"Cáel," she moaned. "Fuck me, fuck me, I've missed you so much." What can I say? A buddy once suggested that if I was less exciting in the bedroom, my ex's might not hurt me so much. I laughed and asked him 'that wouldn't be nearly as much fun now would it?' I'm an idiot. Wait, let's change it up - I am a passionate masochist.

"Not yet, Marla," I kissed her.

"Noooo," she wailed. "Fuck me then we can do that...please?"

"Do you forgive me?" I teased her. Marla bit her lip and looked away. She was still humping away like a bunny.

"No," she whispered.

"You don't have to," I murmured. "Condom." I worked down her body, getting a nice face full of her muff while I blindly sought out my pants, retrieved a line of condoms - I was really shocked to learn that most guys don't walk around with ten at a time - tore one packet open and slipped it on.

I do the 'one handed condom blindfolded' act a lot - a whole lot. I rocketed back up her body, hooking her left leg as I rammed straight at her womb. Marla howled, first in surprise and pain then in orgasm number two. Marla was missing me far more than I had anticipated. She was so freaking sensitive. As her vibrations died down, I rolled us over so that Marla was on top.

"Oh fuck yeah," she panted. "Better than I remembered."

"Marla, are you okay?" Libra inquired from just out of sight. Marla began her rendition of bull-riding on my lap.

"Ah - ah - ah - I'm so wonderful," Marla laughed. "Thanks for finding Cáel for me. God, I've missed this dick."

"I didn't find him for you, Little Sister," Libra griped. "He's my date." Now I was a date.

"Who - who do you - like better - Cáel?" Marla panted. I began strumming her clit.

"I've never slept with Libra, Marla," I informed her. I didn't want to touch the word 'comparison'. If I was that callous, I might miss this chance to fuck Brooke. Libra was a given.

That wasn't my ego talking. If you want to nail an older sister, nail her younger sister. Marla's antics were simply adding the audio-visual aids to make all of this a foregone conclusion.

"Sorry," Marla kept riding me hard while looking over her shoulder. "I found him first. He's mine." I used her distraction to put my other hand on her right nipple and massage it.

Marla's nipples didn't need much biting, or even sucking. They were lively all on their own.

"But you dumped him," Libra strode into the room. Brooke stood in the door. "So he's fair game." Before you insult my masculinity for lying there and being treated like property by three stuck-up babes, do remember I was definitely fucking them all before eleven o'clock tonight.

You go be He-man if you like. By soaking up a few irrelevant insults, I was going to exceed 300 fantastic ladies before the Amazons killed me and I was still going to go out like a true male of the species. Better yet -

"We are making up," Marla insisted.

"Marla, hold on," I intervened. "We aren't here so I can fix things with you." During the 'make up' period, take the blame for the failure of the relationship - that leads you to sex, trust me. "Trent turned out to be a total Tool. He dumped Brooke instead of manning up and admitting he'd lied on his application. It's only a damn job and there thousands out there. What a smuck."

Balancing act time. I wasn't one of 'them' so insulting one of their social class was a dicey endeavor. You counter that with the fact that Trent had behaved like a douche, Brooke wanted the whole damn world to know she was a prize worth fighting for and finally doubling-down on Trent not being a man worthy of her affections. Low and behold, there was a man in front of her willing to prove that Trent wasn't a real man - me!

"I don't want to have sex with you," Brooke declared while enthralled with Marla's buttocks bouncing up and down on my cock, which was visible half the time. Marla tossing her head around in the throes of passion was a nice touch. Between her gyrations, vaginal and clitoral stimulation and her nipple coaxing, Marla let out a soprano high note that damn near ruptured my inner ears.

My current paramour collapsed on my chest. Libra came over and sat on the bed, level with my chest. Brooke was now halfway in the room - definitely convinced she wasn't having sex with me while rubbing her tingling thighs together and certainly not getting wet. (Yeah, right.)

"Mmmm," Marla sighed. "You are the best guy I've ever been with, Cáel."

"Why in the hell did I ever screw us up?" I groaned. I knew why. Her aunt was sexy. I was lucky Marla never caught me banging any of the customers/other girlfriends in her shop. I repeat, girls love it when you take the blame. Brooke especially was getting into it. Marla was living proof I was emotionally unhealthy to hang around. To get around that, I had to be a bit of a sap.

"Me neither," Marla kissed my chest.

"What did he do?" Libra pressed her sister. At this point, outrage is a good thing. See, this clears the board of any unanswered questions that can be deal-killers later.

"He slept with Aunt Jeannine," Marla kept raining down little kisses on me.

"What!" Libra howled. "Why didn't you say anything before now? Cáel, did you put my aunt down on your little sex survey?" Bringing out the broom.

"It was too painful," Marla started licking up my/our sweat off my chest. She was hiding her pain well.

"Yes, I put her down on the application. Honesty is important in any relationship," I gave Libra sad eyes. Honesty? From me? I can't recall all the times I've looked into a girlfriend's tearful gaze and said 'No, I'm not seeing anyone else. I only have eyes for you.' I learned that 'only have eyes for you' was a nice add-on when I turned 19. Hell, I've used those lines on three different girls in one night.

What can I say? I wanted to keep having sex with them.

"If you were seeing Marla, why did you sleep with Aunt Jeannine?" Libra groaned.

"I was bitter, angry and self-destructive," I 'confessed'. No, I was horny and she was a gorgeous, accessible MILF. Somewhere in the de-clothing process she threw out there that Uncle Whomever might be cheating on her. Worked for me.

"Do you regret that now?" Libra asked.

"Would you cheat on her again?" Brooke seethed.

"I regretted when I hit on Jeannine," I admitted. "Marla didn't deserve that." Marla purred like a cute, happy kitten. "Would I cheat this time?" I let that hang out there.

"Yes...yes I would and that's why I don't want to give Marla and me another try until I'm a somewhat more reliable lover for her," I sighed.

"But why!" Brooke screamed. She was starting to cry - again.

"I'm me, Brooke," I shrugged. "Not only can I not say 'no', I can rarely say 'maybe later'."

Humor, blame acceptance (I'm a dog) and yet 'not my fault because slutty girls hit on me'.

"How can men be so heartless?" Brooke choked back another sob.

"There are good guys out there," I assured Brooke. Libra edged closer. Brooke moved to the edge of the bed. I reached behind my back, grabbed a pillow and put it on my lap.

See, by covering up my crotch I was being considerate of Brooke's sensibilities, proving, despite EVERY other piece of evidence indicating I was out for sex, I was only here for moral support.

"You approached your relationship with honesty and clear intentions. Trent wanted nothing more than to use you to pad his portfolio," I continued.

"Face it, you're beautiful, smart, cultured and have the best education," I said. I hadn't a clue how good Vassar was, or how well Brooke had done there. Also, call attractive women beautiful; they like the boost. Call beautiful women smart; it is not a complement they normally get. "You were the perfect choice." Brooke was eating it up.

"I'm not the perfect choice?" Libra nudged me.

"You are from New England, Libra. Trent is from New York and was looking for a Southern girl to make himself look more cosmopolitan," I appeared deeply serious. That bit was total bullshit. I had no clue about the geopolitics of the top 1%.

As far as I knew about Trent, he was already too inbred with all the New York families, so a girl from Virginia was a safe bet for children with the appropriate number of fingers and toes. To be fair, Brooke was better looking than Libra, or Marla, but nothing short of torture would make me say that.

"Yeah," Libra mused, "Trent was always so superficial about that - but never in front of you Brooke," she added.

"I hate that I'm only finding all these horrible things about him now," Brooke screwed up her face. She sat on the bed, was clearly uncomfortable - with the comforter - and then pushed farther onto the bed until she was next to my strategically placed pillow. Whatever animal I am identified with, the general consensus is that I'm a terribly lucky member of the breed.

Marla spotted Brooke's move and decided that a little bit of demarcation was in order. She snaked a hand und the pillow and began stroking my phallus. Marla was my bed-buddy. We had a history. She was also the youngest and the little sister of one of the other combatants. Rich, pretty, petty girls don't share well - why should they?

The doorbell rang. That would be the liquor store that made home deliveries...I had clearly been living in the wrong part of the world most of my life.

"Marla, go get the door," Libra commanded. "It is a delivery."

"Why?" Marla protested. "I'm the only one naked." What was I then? Wearing a pillow?

"Consider it a tip for the delivery boy," Libra teased her sister wickedly. "Or, would you rather stay in a hotel tonight?" Marla muttered 'bitch' as she slipped to the foot of the bed then left. It was time to hasten the undressing process.

"I need to go to the bathroom and...clean up," I told Libra.

"Right around the corner," she smiled. I brushed against Brooke as I left, pillow in place, and limped down the hall. The delivery boy wasn't a problem. It was a girl, around 160 cm and 44 kg - a little thing with a hand truck and a case of whatever.

"Hi," she waved shyly.

I had to wonder why she wasn't more freaked out about a man wearing a pillow edging out of one room and down the hall. The look I was getting wasn't your normal reaction. I felt really bad for myself that I'd never get promoted to a lifestyle what would allow this thing to be common place. Wait - my cock had something to say; reality and cranium be damned.

"Hey Sexy," I smiled at her. "When do you get off work?"

"Dammit Cáel, I'm standing right here!" Marla snapped. The girl looked from the naked chick who was signing for the order then back to me - the almost naked guy.

"Ah...this might not be a good time," the deliver girl hesitated.

"I know this looks bad, but nothing is going on. I have a girl who is a friend and her guy dumped her today so we're just doing a little commiserating," I perjured myself.

"I didn't drive like a maniac down here for only one round of sex, Mister," Marla announced.

"Oh - okay then," she turned to Marla. "I'm sorry about your break up...Ms. Chalmers."

"Ms. Chalmers is my sister," Marla stared at the girl somewhat impatiently.

"Well then, I'm sorry for your sister's unfortunate romantic entanglement," the girl backpedalled.

"My sister didn't get dumped. It was her best friend, Brooke," Marla explained.

The service girl looked back at me, somewhat in awe.

"How many women do you have back there?" she motioned to the bedroom.

"Two," shouted Libra. "Now give me my tequila. I want to be drunk before I fuck this guy."

"Aaahhh," Delivery girl looked even more confounded. "Is there a problem?"

"Ah, no. I'm simply not in their social class...and I sort took her little sister's virginity," I said.

"That would be me," Marla glared at the plebian - the one who wasn't me.

"And her aunt," I completed.

"At the same time?" the girl gasped.

"No..." my interest was piqued by that vision though.

"NO!" yelled Marla. "He's fucking me - again, and my sister and her best friend tonight. Don't you have somewhere you need to be?" she stared at the working stiff.

"You don't look like the average boy-toy," D-Girl was clearly taunting Marla now.

"I'm not. I'm property of a tribe of Amazons who use me for target practice," I joked. Oddly enough, it was the truth but I didn't expect her to believe that. "These are just some chicks I met at a bar - expect for Marla. I met her at college where she schooled me to a whole new level of ecstasy." That made Marla smug and happy.

"You - go," Marla barked to D-Girl. "Where are you going?" she questioned me.

"I need to go to the bathroom," I told her.

"Fine, but don't go jumping out of the window like you did last time I saw you," Marla warned me.

"Wow...we are on the seventeenth floor," I sighed. "I really don't want you to scream and throw books at me yet I think plummeting to my death would still be my primary concern."

"Fine," D-Girl shrugged. "I'm going." She rolled her hand-truck to the door. Before Marla could shut it. "Nice to meet you..." Having a rather unique name rocks. I've been warned that come Paternity Suit time, it won't be nearly so cool.

"Cáel Nyilas," I waved good-bye. "N-Y-I-L-A-S." Marla slammed the door shut then put her back to it.

"You are reprehensible," she gave me the sultriest purr. Yeah, I was a bad, bad boy and those three were going to spank me with their kitties to put me in my place. Life can be thankless, demanding and unrewarding at times...I'm sure that will happen to me eventually. I stumped off to the bathroom, dropped my (unused) rubber in the trash, washed up, didn't find lube but massage oil would do for tonight and returned to the bedroom.

Oh my God! All their clothes had fallen off! What was I to do? Libra was in the middle, Brooke was closest to me, and Marla was unhappily on the far side of Libra. All were resting their upper backs and heads against the headboard. Brooke was drinking 'my' Scotch, Libra had her tequila, leaving Marla with a Bordeaux.

I put the pillow down by the foot of the bed, slipping my oily lubricant underneath the pillow. That was for later. I crawled/pulled myself up the middle. Libra was polite, if not sincere.

"Take care of Brooke first," Libra said.

"I'd rather show her some things and let her decide what she likes," I countered.

Yes. I was telling Libra I was going to use her body as a surrogate fuck-toy to amuse her friend and by the look in her eyes, she was all for it.

"I really don't want to have sex right now anyway," Brooke lied. In sex, only the top lips lie. An un-coaxed vagina glistening with arousal is about as honest a plea for sex there is.

I deftly slipped on my next condom before 'tripping' and landing my chin on Libra's stomach.

"Whoops," I grinned at her. She gave me a famished look. "Well, since I'm here," I eyebrow-pumped. My body backed up enough so that I was even with her labia. Keeping eye contact with Libra, I took my first tongue stab - rolling the tongue and penetrating her vagina like a mini-cock. Her lips parted and her chest inhaled deeply.