Mate in Three

We all collapse on the blanket, sharing a beer and passing around another marijuana cigarette -- they call it a 'joint'. Pete is lying back on the grass, gazing at the moon and the stars. My head rests on his big, soft belly. Nick uses my thigh for his pillow. His finger twirls idly in my blonde pubes. We are sated after a meal of jerky sticks and onion rings from the Snak Shak that Pete had stashed away in his saddlebags. He's right -- they're even better cold. Of course, I'm so hungry, anything would taste good.

I shiver with the chilly drizzle leaking from my well-used pussy. It's a pleasant sensation, but poignant.

"Do I still smell like a rose?" I tease Nick.

He takes a deep whiff. "Yeah," he says, surprised. "A little bit of rose. But mostly you smell like a satisfied woman."

He hands me the marijuana and I take another lungful. I wonder if they know how much the sweet, musky smoke is redolent of semen. It's funny how sucking on the joint makes me want to put something else in my mouth. Like a cock.

Questions nag at me. "How many girls have you raped?" I ask pointedly. I try to act calm, but my hand is shaking when I pass the marijuana to Pete.

My taunt doesn't get the rise I expected. Nick shrugs. "We don't keep score." His fingertip caresses the outer curve of my tender labia.

"Don't you feel any shame?" I snap at him, fuming at his arrogance and seeming indifference to the women he assaults. I almost reach down and slap his hand away from my sex. Almost. It feels so good. Maybe I'll let him keep going, but only for a little longer...

He props his head up on his elbow. "Every one of them wants it. Every fucking one. Me and Petey, we're not perverts. We don't stalk women and sneak into their bedrooms. But when a horny slut throws herself at us, we don't back down."

At the sound of that disgusting word, I bristle. I'm not like Jessica! I didn't throw myself at him...did I? Stepping back through the events that led to my deflowering, I recognize that they were all my choice -- getting on the motorcycle instead of calling Dad from the snack bar, rubbing myself on that marvelous, vibrating leather seat and nearly coming, drinking his beer and taking his drugs, nearly throwing myself on Nick for just a kiss, and... Oh, no.

Licking his finger, Nick swipes it down along the seam. I draw in a sharp breath. He smiles. He knows.

"Is -- is that what you think I am?" My voice is cracking. I can't say the word.

"It doesn't matter what I think, Sara. The question that you need to ask yourself is, if you could go back four hours, would you do it again?"

I stare at him helplessly. I don't have to answer -- he can see the truth in my eyes. With what I know now, I wouldn't change a thing.

Her swirls his finger in the juices gathering at my opening. I gasp when he flicks the fingernail across my asshole.

"Do you want me to keep going?" Nick asks.

"Yes," I whisper, spreading my legs and raising my hips. Because that's what sluts do.

His fingers switch back and forth from my pussy to my hot little button, and back to my ass.

"Do you want me to take you by force? Any way I want?"

"Yes," I reply more emphatically.

Nick glances at Pete. The big man lifts my arms above my head, holding both wrists firmly in one of his mitts. His other hand goes to my needy girls, massaging them in that delicious way he does.

Nick's thumb pushes into my pussy while a finger worms into my back entrance. They start fucking together, in and out.

"You want us to make you do things, don't you? Nasty things that no decent girl would do. Isn't that right?"

"Yes," I whimper, rocking my hips to fuck both his thick digits and straining against Pete's immobilizing grip.

"What are you, Sara Wallace?" Nick demands, then clamps his mouth onto my pussy and flicks his tongue on the engorged nub.

"A slut" I shout to the world as the orgasm rolls through me. "I'm a fucking slut!"

His face is shiny with my come when he raises up, smiling.

"Somebody please fuck me," I beg. "I don't care who."

"What a perfect little slut you turned out to be, Sara Wallace," Nick smirks. "But I should've guessed that. You were always perfect."

It almost sounds like an insult. But when I look in his eyes, I see his adoration. The big, tough bully has been carrying a torch for me, probably since I was in tenth grade. Was he just being nice for once in his life? Or was there something about me that intimidated him? I doubt I'll ever know.

Now is not the time to ask. Lifting one leg, he rolls me up to the side, and there, staring me in the face, is the single eye of Pete's erect cock. Without hesitation I swallow him as deep as I can, just as Nick straddles one of my legs, throws the other over his shoulder, and embeds himself in my raw pussy in a single thrust.

He fucks me hard and fast, the way he does so well. I use my hands and my mouth and my tongue on Pete the best I know how, rolling his oversized balls, licking the little place under the tiny triangular crown, pulling the foreskin when I bob my head, and even twisting my hand gently the way I saw Nick doing to himself. Pete likes that. I can hear the subtle motions of his body telling me.

He starts small thrusts into my mouth. I hear the weak whimper behind me, and Pete grabs my shoulder, squeezing almost painfully. He floods my mouth and I drink eagerly, though some spills onto his lap. Before Pete is finished, Nick embraces my leg and thrusts hard, three times, uttering an agonized, "F-u-ck, Sara!" and emptying his balls. I don't come this time, and I'm just fine with that.

Silently, they help me get dressed. Everything moves in slow motion. It's sad to think about leaving here. Nick puts his black jacket on me and lifts me by the waist onto the saddle. The midsummer night is warm, but the ride home is chilly on my naked legs. Except where Nick's hand holds onto my thigh. I lean against his hard back, my arms around his waist, enjoying that muscular belly. One hand moves a little further south to caress his crotch.

I burp, tasting beer and salty semen, and laugh to myself.

We rumble up in front of my house. The light is still on in Dad's study. They keep the motors running. I throw my own leg over the motorcycle seat and remove the helmet and leather jacket, throwing them at Nick. He catches them, and seems taken aback. Perfect. After lifting my beach bag off of the chrome bar, I go straight to Pete, giving him a lingering kiss. He's surprised, too.

He grins, kisses two fingers, and places them on my lips. "G-g-g-goodnight, S-S-S-Sara."

Putting my nose in the air, I ignore Nick, but I make sure to stroll by within reach. As I expect, he snatches my hair. I squeal as he jerks me to his lips and kisses me, and -- oh, my fucking God, what a kiss! His mouth possesses mine, his tongue forcing its way between my resisting lips. I can hardly breathe. I surrender in his arms, and the kiss goes on and on.

When Nick releases me, he stands me back up on rubbery legs and lays his leather jacket around my shoulders, a gift. Safe in my own yard, my hand lashes out. Both of us are stunned by the powerful slap that lands on his cheek. He works his jaw, and grins. Without another word, I spin on my heels and march toward the house.

"You were always the most beautiful woman I ever knew," Nick calls to me.

I have to force each foot to move in front of the other one so I don't run back and fuck him right there on the street in front of my house. My eyes are blurry. Except for my Dad, I've never felt so loved in my life.

Nick shouts, "Have a great life, Sara Wallace!"

I thrust a single finger high into the air. Nick and Pete both laugh. Turning my head back over my shoulder, I give them one last grin as they roar down the street, waving goodbye.

Yes, I will have a great life. I've made it all the way across the board. I'm a queen now, bold and powerful. I'm not afraid any more. I'm going to embrace my life, grab it by the cock, and start living for a change.

Nick was right. Everything's going to be just fine.

## END