Mate in Three

Nick offers me the cigarette again. I take it from him. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Breathe it deep into your lungs and hold it," he says

First I sniff it. Not nearly as bad as cigarettes. I suck it in, filling my lungs. Suddenly, it feels like the smoke is expanding. My lungs are about to explode. I exhale quickly, coughing and hacking while Nick doubles over with laughter. My throat burns with an acrid taste, and my eyes are full of tears. Nick hands me his beer, and I gulp it down. It's incredibly refreshing.

When Nick recovers from his fit, he offers another puff. I decline.

"You took too much, too fast, Sara. Do it like this." He demonstrates, then hands me the cigarette.

This time I take it in slow and gradual, like he showed me. The smoke is soothing going down my throat. When I breathe it out, the flavor is like a spice -- clove or nutmeg -- but different. I take another drink of his beer.

"I don't feel anything," I tell him. "Is this supposed to make me hallucinate, or something?"

Nick chuckles, shaking his head. "No, Sara Wallace. No dragons or exotic worlds with this stuff. I have some amazing little pills, if you'd like to see things like that."

I laugh myself. "No thanks, Nick. I don't think this stuff has any effect on me."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

We sit silently on the leather seat, passing the beer and the marijuana back and forth. Dusk is settling, and the clouds are brilliant, reds and oranges and electric blues. We're surrounded by crickets, thousands of them, all chirping randomly. But the randomness starts to take on its own rhythm, chanting in a steady cadence like I've never noticed before. In the woods nearby, a bullfrog adds a low, rasping syncopation. The sun closes its tired eye in the west as a bright, laughing moon rises in the east, casting his unearthly glow on our little glade. Fireflies begin to flash their romantic lights, right there. And there. I've never felt so peaceful, as if the world had arrived at perfection at this very moment, in this very spot.

"It's beautiful," I sigh.

"You're beautiful, Sara Wallace." His huge, calloused hand strokes the hair above my ear, and I lean into his tender touch. He says, "Your hair is like pure gold. What color do you call that?"

"Honey blonde," I answer bashfully.

"Honey. Yes, that's a good name for you." His fingers brush lightly across my cheeks. "I'll bet you taste just like honey, too."

I wonder what he will taste like when we kiss. With a line like that, I just know that's what he's leading up to.

"Your skin is like an angel's. So velvety soft, and rosy. You even smell like roses." His thumb traces the outline of my lips. The pad catches on my lower lip, and drags it downward. "And such a lovely pink mouth."

My heart is aflutter, my breaths coming short and quick. What a serendipitous evening! I never expected that he could be so tender, so enticing. Maybe later -- not tonight after he takes me home, but maybe tomorrow -- he'll call me. Since things are over with Matt, Nick could take me to a movie or something on Friday. If things work out, I might even show him what I can do with my lovely pink mouth, the things I've learned that keep the boys happy and help me remain pure.

A single finger draws a slow, titillating line downward along the center of my throat, pausing in the small hollow. I hear myself moan softly as I lift my chin, displaying my neck to his touch and hoping he takes the hint from my upturned, parted lips. My head is swimming, not least because of the inflamed desires crowding my thoughts. I've had crushes, but never anything like this. Come on, Nick. Don't be afraid of me. Kiss me!

"You are an irresistible woman, Sara Wallace."

My heart leaps! No one has ever called me a woman before!

The deep baritone of his adulation and his affectionate touches are so smooth and comforting, I don't notice that his finger is continuing its downward path into the narrow crevice on my chest.

With a shocked gasp, I realize his feathery fingertips are grazing over my breast. No! This isn't right. Despite the warm sensations he's igniting in my chest -- and other places -- I gently push his hand away. He hasn't even kissed me yet.

His hand returns immediately, this time with a firm grasp. He kneads my big mounds roughly. Those hands are every bit as wonderful as I hoped they would be, provoking delightful feelings in my private place. But he has jumped the gun. This is supposed to come later. I shove his hand off more emphatically.

When he grabs my boobies with both hands and squeezes forcefully, I jerk them away leap off the bike. "Nick! No!" I shout angrily.

He stands and comes toward me. A frisson shoots up my spine. The look in his eyes is sinister, hungry.

"Nick? What are you doing?" I ask, my voice trembling. I stumble backwards over my own feet.

"Don't worry. Everything's going to be just fine, Sara Wallace."

In an instant, he seizes both of my breasts again, but this time he's not letting go. He mashes them in his hands, sending a despicable tingle straight between my legs. I grab his wrists and tug at them, but it's useless. He's too strong.

"Stop it, Nick! Please!" I beg, desperately trying to get away. The terrible danger of my situation begins to dawn on me. My eyes are clouding with tears.

"You have such a fine pair of tits, Sara Wallace," he leers. "See how they fit in my hands? I always knew these tits were made for me."

"No! This is wrong, Nick! You shouldn't do this. You're not being nice anymore."

But he's not dissuaded. He laughs, low and menacing. My fingernails are clawing at his powerful arms, but he ignores them and just keeps moving forward. It's almost like he's pushing me. And then I back into a large tree that I don't remember being there. My head jerks up. It's Pete! He curls his immense arms into my elbows, locking them behind me. I'm trapped! No! This isn't happening! Surely they're not planning to...!

Gathering my courage, I scrape my heel down Pete's shin and stomp on his instep, the way Dad showed me. Pete is unfazed. I guess it's not as effective without shoes.

"Stop it, Nick, or I'll scream!" I declare resolutely.

They both laugh. Nick chuckles, "Go ahead. We like it when they scream, don't we Pete?" His monstrous sidekick snickers demonically behind me.

Oh, God. What does he mean, '...when they scream'? This is not the first time they've done this! The terrible things I've seen on TV come to mind, about young girls who go missing for years, only to have their bones dug up by somebody's dog. What are they going to do to me?

"Please, Nick!" I'm weeping, a pawn trapped between the evil king and his towering black knight. "Please don't hurt me! Take me home! I want to go home!"

Still squeezing my breasts harshly, Nick sneers "We'll take you home, Sara Wallace. First, we're going to have a private little party."

"Please, I want to go home right now, Nick," I wail. I don't believe what he says any more about taking me home. "I don't want a party."

"What? We don't get to enjoy ourselves like you were doing on my bike?"

Oh, God! He knows!

"No, Nick. Please. I don't want to do anything else like that."

"Don't lie to me, Sara," he warns.

"Honest. I've had enough fun, Nick. Just take me home, okay?"

"I don't believe you, Sara. I've been smelling that hot, horny little pussy of yours ever since we got here. You were practically begging for it just a few minutes ago."

"No, Nick! You were so nice, I just -- I just wanted —" And that's when I realize that he's right. I've been pushing myself on him almost since we met.

"I'll make a deal with you, Sara Wallace. You're saying you don't want to party with us." I gasp when he lays his hand flat on my belly and the fingers slip down under the elastic of my bikini. "If your hot little pussy isn't dripping wet, we'll take you straight home."

"Please don't, Nick!" I plead tearfully. I already know what he's going to find.

His big hand descends into my suit, down through my vee of golden hairs. He slithers his finger into my slick crevice. I breathe in sharply and groan at the distressing pleasure of his touch. He grins.

"Yes," he whispers. "I think horny little Miss Sara Wallace is ready to play."

"Don't, Nick! Please —" But the breath catches in my throat when his abrasive finger circles my most tender spot.

He knows what he's doing. There is no teasing to his masterful stimulation. His agile finger creates new sensations around my tiny button, constantly changing the tempo and pressure. No clumsy boy has ever made me so inflamed so quickly.

Turning my head away, I close my eyes. I won't give him the pleasure of seeing how much I'm enjoying it. Searching for any thoughts that will take my mind off of what he's doing to me, I try recalling chess positions and strategies that I've memorized.

Even that's no good. I try to resist, but my body surrenders. I can't stop my traitorous hips from rocking against his hand. Nobody has ever given my sex such a good time. Not even me.

Nick sneers, "What a horny little cunt you have, Sara. I think she wants to come on my finger, Pete. Do you want to come, Sara Wallace?"

Refusing to look at him, I declare, "No! No, I don't!"

"Are you sure?" he taunts me. "I think you're lying again, Sara. I think you want to come so bad you will do just about anything. I think you would even suck Pete's big pecker."

Of course! That's the answer! A gambit! "I'm good with my mouth, Nick. Really! I'll take care of both of you!"

Nick and Pete laugh. Nick says, grinning, "Yes. That's exactly what you're gonna' do, Sara Wallace."

Abruptly, he jerks his finger out of my suit. I can't help but groan with disappointment. I was so close. But maybe we can get this over with and I can go home.

"Open your mouth," he says. Perplexed, I obey him, and he lays his finger on my tongue. I taste my own lust. It's not the first time, but the salty, sweaty flavor of his finger adds a different tang. Together, they're not altogether unpleasant.

"Show me how good you're gonna' suck my cock, Sara Wallace."

Closing my lips around his fat finger, I move my head back and forth, sucking ever so gently and washing it in my saliva. My tongue curls around his rough skin, caressing the bottom the way I do sometimes with boys I've dated. Of course, I always finish them off with my hand. I'm no whore like my friend Jessica who slurps men's disgusting semen as if it was a milkshake.

I hope I'm impressing Nick. He twists his finger, pushing it in and out of my mouth the like it was his man-thing. What did he call it? His 'cock'. What a funny name. I hope his 'cock' is as small as his finger.

He withdraws slowly. My lips drag along its length until it pops out of my mouth. I give him my most sexy smile.

"Good girl," he says softly, and I feel a touch of pride. "I think everything's going to be just fine."

I wish he'd stop saying that. Everything is most definitely not 'fine'. I've been close to an orgasm twice, and still haven't had my joy.

"Will you make me come now, Nick?" I ask sweetly, hoping I can get mine before I have to do the nasty part with both of them. How disgusting!

He grins. "That's what I want to hear. But the first time you come, Sara Wallace, will be on my cock."

"No-o!" I scream as Nick grabs my ankles, lifting me into the air. He and Pete lay me in the grass while I kick and squirm ineffectively, yelling, "You can't! Please! I'm saving myself!"

They both get a big laugh from my confession. Nick yells proudly, "Whaddaya' think of that, Pete? It looks like I get to bust another cherry!"

Another one? How many has he taken?

"Please, Nick! Don't hurt me!" I whimper.

"It'll only hurt for a minute or two," he says. "Trust me. Everything's going to be just —"

"No, dammit! It's not fine!" I scream as loud as my lungs will let me. I'm jerking and kicking, determined to make my escape, when Nick flips up his hand. A long steel blade gleams in the moonlight. I freeze, terrified.

In a deep, menacing voice, Nick tells me, "I can cut that pretty bathing suit to shreds. You might get hurt. Or you can quit fucking around and let me take it off. Your choice."

The last ounce of fight vaporizes. No chance for a draw, I resign myself to my fate. This is going to happen. In my worst nightmares I never dreamed of anything so horrible. Why did I have to take such a foolish chance? I slump to the ground, limp and empty, weeping softly.

"Will you g-get my b-blanket?" I beg, sniffling.

While Nick fetches my blanket and lays it out, Pete rolls me up on my side to unfasten my top. They lift me onto the thin beach blanket, and Nick works my bottoms over my hips and down my legs. I cross my hands over my naked breasts. Somehow, it seems strangely more important to preserve my modesty up top than between my legs.

"Show me your tits," Nick demands in a gruff voice.

"Please," I beg, clutching myself tighter.

Nick raises a brow to Pete. Without a word, the big bear of a man tears my arms away from my chest and forces them to the ground above my head. He kneels on them, pinning my forearms to the ground with his shins.

"Look at the size of these tits, Pete!" Nick says, mauling my hefty chest. "What'd I tell ya'? These mamas are fucking gorgeous. I'll bet they're sensitive too."

Seizing my teats between a crooked finger and the thumb of each hand, he pinches them brutally. I scream through clenched teeth as the searing pain rockets straight down to the special place between my legs. My vaginal muscles contract, forcing a fresh gush of wetness to trickle through my lower lips. His lips suckle at my pink nipples as if he's trying to rip them off. Taking my stiff peak between his teeth, he bites and tugs at it like a wolf tearing at its prey. Despite my efforts to switch off my feelings, I squirm again, moaning in an agony of unbidden pleasure.

I give in, relinquishing my body to his oral skills. The raspy surface of his tongue excites the nipples, and his fingers pinch and twist them. Then his hand, that massive hand, embraces my whole breast and crushes it while his talented mouth nurses at the other. Soon my passions are overwhelming me. I have to summon all my willpower to resist the impulse to beg him to play my tiny nub and give me the satisfaction I need. But even though I may submit to his lecherous desires, I won't allow myself to be a willing accomplice.

A last-ditch gambit jumps into my mind. It wouldn't be hard to convince Jessica to take my place. I could call her. Judging by the stories she tells me about her sexual escapades, she would jump at the chance. But I'm still not convinced I'm going to ever leave this place. Even if she did spread her legs for my ex-boyfriend, I wouldn't dare put my best friend in such danger.

Nick kneels up between my legs and unbuckles his dirty jeans. "I fuckin' love your tits, Sara Wallace. I've loved them since I first saw them in the 10th grade hall."

He remembers the first time he saw me! If my situation weren't so horrific, it would almost be romantic.

Standing, he removes his shirt. I am awed by his lean physique, the sinewy bulges in his arms and legs, and those absolutely delicious ripples lining his belly. My disloyal vagina clenches.

He kicks off his boots and lowers his jeans. Maybe it's the beer and the drugs, or a trick of the moonlight, but his cock appears bigger than any I've seen. It is the dreaded instrument of my plundering. And yet, there is a strange beauty about its power, the gentle upward curve, and especially that big crown with the broad brim. Knowing what he is about to do with it, why am I licking my lips, filled with an intense urge to hold it in my mouth, to taste its dark sweaty heat?

Nick kneels between my legs, naked and forbidding, his hungry cock bobbing playfully. Then his hands, those powerful hands, are under my thighs, lifting, pushing them up and back until my knees are almost at my chest. My shameful girlie parts are fully exposed to his ravishing blue eyes in a way no other boy has seen me.

Here it comes. I'm about to lose my precious chastity. I turn my head again and steel myself against the terrible, ugly assault.

At his first contact with my privates, I jerk in anticipation. Immediately, I draw in a sharp breath as the most exquisite sensations invade my body. I have to lift my head to see what he's doing. Nick's blue eyes are smiling at me from between my legs, his mouth firmly latched onto my sex. Rough whiskers prick my tender thighs, sending little shivers racing through me. And his tongue -- oh, what a marvelous tongue! Oh, my God! What is he doing? I can't think, my body is out of control. Still pinned underneath Pete's weight, my arms twist and struggle, not to get away, but simply because it feels so satisfying. My fingers grasp frantically at the blanket, the grass, anything within reach.

My friend Jessica told me what boys did to her with their mouths down there, the unbelievable pleasure, and how they gave her some of the longest and best orgasms ever. She always laughed when I insisted that I would never permit such a filthy act.

Nick's lips and tongue are all over my bottom. Okay. You win this one, Jessica. Nothing in my life comes close to the thrills and chills and pure bliss that he is stirring in my soul. I'm delirious, spasming wildly under the constant barrage of euphoric waves rolling through me. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't stop rocking my hips, pushing myself onto his face. His fingers ease into my tight mitten, gently massaging the opening. Then they delve deeper, and I lurch when they bump against my barrier. It is a bittersweet moment.

When he clamps his lips over my mound and flicks insistently at my inflamed nub, my nerves light up and I can feel the tension mounting, stretching to the snapping point. It's coming closer. Closer. Yes...yes...here...it...comes...

A weak moan escapes my lips when Nick sits up. His face glistens in the moonlight.

He grins. "I was right, Sara. You taste just like honey." Squeezing my boobies again, he taunts, "You weren't going to come yet, were you Sara Wallace?"

"Please," I implore him, and we both know that this plea is not the same as the ones that came before.

"Look at this greedy little slut, Pete," he says, grinning scornfully at me. His fingers swirl in my entrance. "You'd better get that fat cock out, Pete. Once this hot, tasty little pussy starts fucking, she's not going to be able to stop."

He pulls his fingers from my vagina. He called it my pussy. My tasty little pussy. Yes. I like that. The word always sounded so crude when Jessica said it. Coming from Nick's mouth, it carries a certain warmth and panache. Pussy.

A hungry look comes to his face, looking down at me and coating his rampant cock with the juices covering his fingers -- my honey.

I make one final appeal to his conscience. "You don't have to do this, Nick."

"Yes. I do," he says quietly, earnestly. "I've waited a long, long time for a shot at smart and beautiful Sara Wallace."

I gasp. How long? Has he been lusting after me since high school? I never imagined...

A motion above my head catches my eye. Pete has pulled out his cock. My mouth drops open. It's enormous! Not overly long, but so thick that I don't believe I could get my whole hand around it. It's as big around as my wrist, and about the same width. Two fat blue veins meander up the sides. I catch myself licking my lips, wondering if I could even stretch my mouth around that monster.

Pete strokes himself. He has no problem getting his broad hand around it. I'm cross-eyed, mesmerized by the Brobdingnagian beast waving in front of my face. I don't even notice the firm hands on my thighs, pushing them apart, or the slow encroachment at my lower lips, spreading around an unwelcome invader.