Pam is Stan Ch. 01 - Pawn takes Queen

"Pam Is Stan 01 - Pawn takes Queen" by CraigOOL

Fetish - Dick cuckolds Stan by taking Pam

[Author's notes: Warning! This is a bisexual cuckold sex story. There are strong FemDom themes in this story. There are strong cuckold themes in this story. This story has substantial male/male sexual contact. This hopefully will be hot enough for the people who like these themes, as it does have a lot of sex in it. For those who don't like these themes please move along. Civil and constructive comments are appreciated, hate speech will be deleted.]

[All characters are eighteen or older at the time any sexual contact in this story takes place.]

PamIsStan is the fictional "country" that Pam and Stan are from. They work together, marketing health care temp workers to small and medium health care facilities. When I first met them, a pair of young hard bodies half my age, they had just started working together, trying to get people jobs at the clinic I do IT work for, but only knew each other as business contacts. Then they showed up as a pair dating at my softball league, assigned to my team. Over the year, I found out a lot more about them. They'd just bought a house together with their big yearly bonuses combined, for instance. Pam was the fastest shortstop in the league, despite having the shortest (but finely sculpted) legs in the league. Stan could practically cover the entire outfield with his long legs. If he cut his long blond shoulder length hair he might look less feminine, despite being built on a six foot three linebacker frame. Stan didn't have a triangular male frame, but a more hourglass shape with a rounded booty that still got glances from all the women. Pam could fit under my armpit, but would drill her stiff pointy nipples into my belly, and they always seemed to be stiff around me. Pam's long black hair, reaching to the bottom of her tits (or the top of her cute round ass) was often tied into a pony tail or coiled up in a bun. There was always a scent to her hair, like patchouli, sandalwood, or gardenias. She is a naturally happy person you just subconsciously want to be around.

Pamisstan was invented to explain how if you had a conversation with one of them, despite the other one being on the other side of the baseball diamond, the other would know the full content of the conversation when they got back. Pam explained this by saying they came from the same country, and everybody was telepathic there, but only with other people from the same country. She would give free "tests" at the bar after our games, and I swear she was always thinking about sucking my cock. The temperature of my skin always climbed and my shorts always got tighter, while her eyes bored into me like the hypnotic gaze of a vampire. But maybe that was just how she looked at me. Or how she had practiced to interrogate people. I always guessed taking a swim at their pool, or flying Stan's ultralight, which always brought a frown. She was very disappointed in me. She knew I knew better. She was pissed I would not give her the answer she wanted. Pam, when set on getting an answer, is very, very persistent. You'd have better luck getting a pit bull off your leg.

What I didn't know was that tall, dark haired older men, graying at the temples but not yet out of shape were her idea of the perfect man. Maybe a little rough, a little handsy, a little bit dominating. Like a softball coach who swats your ass on the way out of the dugout (I did that for everyone). That rapidly flared into a full fledged spanking fantasy and all of a sudden she was down two strikes. She caught the third ball for her trademark solid base hit, but it put an itch in her pussy it would take hours to iron out with her vibrator once she got home.

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Pam's face is one of the most expressive I've ever known. Her heart shape face could have been cruel on other women, but is softened by her turtle shell patterned horn rimmed glasses. It took me two years to figure out her lenses had no prescription at all. Exactly like that were her goofy, fun loving nerdy and dirty expressions, simple props in her human communications game. Stan copied some of them, but that was about all he could master. She gave me a wide variety of lustful looks, almost every time that we were alone. A wry fragment of a smile, teamed with a shifted sideways glance and arched eyebrows that always reminded me of the 'message' in our 'failed' telepathic tests. "When are you going to let me suck your cock, Dick?" she always seemed to be asking me in a million different ways.

Likewise, Pam's body seems to have mastered body language at a doctorate level of knowledge. Her conical breasts, topped by puffy nipples, could communicate flat indifference, pert attention, or cat scratch fever intensity, which she often hummed soto voce while dragging them across my belly. Those nipple scrapings always brought an intense alert from Stan, but I often heard him groan as if he is as turned on by her teasing me as I am. Pam is a hugger, and she would often apparently fly across the dugout to staple her nipples to my belly, as she wraps her arms around my back to prevent my escape.

After the first time, I hugged her back as good as I got. But Pam did not discriminate, and before the end of the season it was a habit ingrained in the entire team with each other. Likewise, 'poses' while adjusting socks reminded me of her doing the same thing adjusting her nylons during the break in business meetings, where only I could see her doing it, pulling up her skirt above her crotch to tease me that she might just show me something more. Her tight rear was frequently displayed for devastating effect, often to distract the other team, so much so most teams thought 'bent over' was the position she played. I began to notice that her business movements were more subtle, but just as effective, mere shadows of her expressing herself in private (except with me). She is continuous seduction, in an seemingly innocuous package. I concluded she must be cool on the street, a freak in the sheets.

Stan of course decoded every movement, every spoken word, and strangely, became more and more friendly to me. Sharing a supposedly single telepathically bonded mind, it seemed as if Pam liked me more, Stan also had to like me more to stay in sync. Pondering this I stumbled on the next telepathic test message, wondering if he too shared the desire to suck my cock, and was so confused I didn't even answer Pam for a good thirty seconds, to chuckles from all our friends. I answered her wanting to kiss me.

"Close, Dick." Pam said, "But no Clinton cigar." to chuckles from all our friends.

Later, Stan got me alone and said "You blew the test Dick. On purpose." Stan grinned at me widely.

I nearly choked on my drink. Pam cackled wildly in the background and the girls all laughed uproariously. Whether at me or Pam's telepathic response to Stan's double entendre I couldn't guess.

"Lost in my own head." I mumbled, as I pretended to be drunker than I was.

A drunk passing by on the way to the restroom mumbled "Get a room." People glancing at Stan and I often made the mistake of thinking we were a boy-girl couple. We were in an embrace, shoulder to shoulder, but I told myself it was no different than the rest of the male bonding going on, but it was different. I am never mistaken for a woman, while it happens to Stan all the time. I am masculine in my movements and speech patterns, while Stan must have some feedback from being bonded to Pam's mind 24/7/365. Plus I tend to be dominant, while Stan tends to be submissive. Which as it turned out, was more or less what he wanted to talk to me about.

"I want to ask Pam to marry me." Stan whispers into my ear, which got eyebrow raises from some of the women over with Pam, mistaking the whisper for a kiss. People will see what they want to see.

"That's great news! Cheers!" I boasted a wide grin and bashed our beer mugs together. The bitches frowned, interpreting it as cover fire to distract from our 'homoerotic' display.

"Thanks dude! There's just one hitch. I need your advice. I can't even ask her until I know." Stan said as he moved in close for another conspiratorial whisper.

Seeing Pam moving towards us through the gaggle of gawking geese I blurted out "Make it short, blunt, and quick. Pam is inbound and you have maybe ten seconds."

"I need to share her with another dude. I've had lots of trim, but Pam has never had sex - real sex - with anybody but me. I'm terrified if she ever sees another dude naked in real life she'll realize I'm hung like a hamster and bail." Stan was nearly crying in shame.

Pam got a weird look on her face, blushed a deep red, and started crying herself as she ran past us towards the womens restroom, five girlfriends giving chase while glaring at us.

"It appears you have divulged State Secrets of Pamisstan without authorization. You need to go fix that. We will talk another time. Your secret is safe with me. The price will be telling me how you scored all that trim while looking like a girly man." I joked, as his face lit up, and he laughed.

"Dude! You are the best!" Stan said, still beaming brightly as we hugged deeply.

Another drunk passing by on the way to the restroom mumbled "Get a room." to which our entire group laughed, as Pam emerged, geese in tow, eyes shining with a wide smile on her face as she tried to close the distance against the flow. I was already near the door, when I saw their embrace as Stan picked her up off her feet, hugging her like a child with a rag doll, as our entire crowd bashed mugs together shouting "Get a Room!"

I sat stunned in the parking lot as it finally dawned on me that Stan intended to share Pam with me. I can be thick sometimes. I couldn't believe the 'telepathic test' was about telling me Pam wanted to suck my cock, until it was unmistakably true. Knowing the same about Stan didn't make me less comfortable with him, but whether Pam shared that goal was problematic. About 50% of women will completely bail on a guy if they find he has sexual contact with other men. The other half will artfully, in the background, through artifice and coincidence, try to get his dick in your mouth. Which half was Pam in?

The following Monday, the marketing team of B.J.&B.J. came to meet with the administration of our medium sized medical practice. I greeted Pam and Stan warmly, and everything was professional and successful. Then the break came, and I retreated to my office. I knew I needed privacy - fast.

"May I come in?" Pam asks cheerfully.

"Come in, close and lock the door behind you. I presume Stan is not joining us?" I asked, knowing the answer.

"No, Stan is not joining us. He will tend to business while I try to put the shambles of our personal life back together again. You are a very close and even intimate friend of ours. I need your counsel." Pam says as she stretches out her legs, pulling up her skirt to the edge of her panties, leaving her dark hose, heels, and garters on full display. They may be short legs but they are damn nice ones.

"May I say I truly enjoy the increase in the depth of our intimacy." I say with a wide smile.

"I take it Stan was proposing increasing the depth of our intimacy far beyond boundaries which you have contemplated." Pam says sultrily as she uncrosses her legs. It was a blatant beaver shot and damn distracting. Light sheer black panties displaying the glistening black forest of her pussy. A bribe.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. No one looks at you and doesn't think about obliterating whatever boundaries would limit your intimacy. But I'm not going to breach Stan's confidence about Top Secret Gamma Guppy Pamisstan information which I may or may not be entrusted with." I say with a somewhat forced smile.

"Even if the prize was yours for the taking?" Pam says sultrily as she reaches under her skirt, and lowers her sheer black panties down to her knees, then spreads her legs to trap them there and free her hands. She is literally offering me her pussy, right there in my office, and her hot scent wafts to my nose. Un-mistakeably hot pussy. Molten lava hot pussy. Pussy I could eat if I just stuck out my tongue.

"The prize was never mine to take, if we are being honest with each other." I say sadly as I inhale deeply, trying to memorize that scent for all time.

"Then if we are to be - honest - with each other, what is your true and correct answer to the telepathic test?" Pam says saucily as she unbuttons her jacket and rubs her hands over her braless (as usual) breasts, stiffening her nipples to Cat Scratch Fever levels. Another bribe and an extortion demand.

"You want to suck my cock." I say without hesitation.

"Very good. Very, very good! And Correct by the way. I could not understand why you would not give the answer when I could read you clearly knew it." Pam says as she unbuttons the next two buttons of her sheer white blouse. Her breasts are now pointed missile cones, out of their silos, aimed straight at my heart. Launch and nuclear detonation obliterating my ability to love anyone else in my life is imminent.

"Did you ever think about Stan? I did. Right there in front of everybody, telling all our friends his girlfriend wants to suck my cock? That may be obvious one day, but while you might have achieved getting to suck my cock in front of everybody, you would have embarrassed Stan beyond his ability to recover. Just as it would destroy him to see you displayed as you are now." I raise my phone and snap a picture. Just in case I ever need to talk to Stan about it, of course.

Red faced, Pam came undone. Crying, at points even howling in her torment, she stood, melting into my supportive hug, as her panties fell to the floor. Time was running out, as we would be expected to rejoin everybody else in just a few minutes.

"So what do I do, Dick? How can I have what I want? What I know without a shadow of a doubt he wants too? Do I need to apologize to him? Do I need to apologize to you?" Pam looked up at me, practically begging to be kissed and told it was going to be alright. A woman baring her soul to me.

"You will have what you want. Stan will have what he wants. I will have what I want. Right now you have to do the hardest thing for you to do right now - nothing. Were we to kiss right now, it would ruin everything. What we need to do is to sweeten the offer. Make him crave it. Let yourself crave it. Make me crave it. Then everything will work out as it should." I pontificate as if I knew what to do. In reality, despite what would later seem to be divine prophecy, insight far beyond my years, it was little more than stalling for time so that I would have some clue as to what to do, "how do you solve a problem like Maria" (from the 'Sound of Music').

"Then you are going to burn, boy. Here are my dripping wet panties. Sniff them while we are in public without displaying that massive erection I know is waiting for me. Think about the tight, hot, wet pussy waiting for you that those panties guarantee. Think about all those blowjobs I promised you telepathically, and remember those all have to be paid on the first date. Then remember you don't really own a woman until you've had her ass, and no one has ever had my incredibly hot, incredibly tight ass. But I'd like to nominate you for the job, if you think you'll ever be up to it without hurting Stan too much. Tick/tock, boy - when a mouth-pussy-ass trio this hot goes on the market all kind of buyers show up. You however, get a bonus if you act soon. Close the deal this week and you get extra special guest visits from very interested parties. That's all the info you get. Best and final offer." Pam handed me the panties, turned and unlocked the door, and left.

It took me five minutes to get my hard-on under control, only to be greeted by knowing smirks from both Pam and Stan as we hopped in the company minivan. The restaurant seating ended up being in my favor, with Pam across from me, until she slipped her shoes off, and massaged my erection with both her feet under the table, moaning and cooing. The texture of the silky feet tormenting me, in such a brazen display, only ended when Stan let his fingers do the walking and found out her pussy puddle had no dam to hold it back. Pam's skirt is ruined, so Pam used the suit jacket to cover up the swamp in her skirt as we left, yet the Cat Scratch Fever nipples told everyone her pussy was on fire.

Stan gladly bought her a replacement suit. Stan closed the upgrade deal without her. Pam texts me she had to rush home to test drive some new vibrators in a new size she'd never tried before but had recently become extremely fond of, even craving them.

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Stan met me at the bar, and we got a booth as far from the restrooms as possible. The official reason was to celebrate his closing the new deal. The private reason was to negotiate a private deal about our personal relationship without one of the partners necessary to make it happen.

"So good to see you, thank for coming." Stan says as he warmly shakes my hand.

"Wouldn't have missed it for the world. Congrats on closing the big deal!" I hug Stan and we fade back into the booth. I expected a 'Get a Room' taunt but it never came.

"There are some parts of the deal that haven't been disclosed. Plus I owe you the Top Secret Gamma Guppy payoff." Stan says with a wide grin.

"Does order matter?" I ask neutrally.

"One might help understanding the other." Stan said hopefully.

"Didn't know I was going to end up under Stan." I said playfully.

"I haven't been bi, but I think I might be. That's neither here nor there, but the deal I will offer doesn't offer any male-male contact - at least initially, and then only if everybody wants it." Stan clarifies.

"Fair enough." I agreed with him.

"The reason I got more tail than you could shake a stick at - before Pam - was I was trained by older women in the neighborhood how to please a woman. Kissing, cuddling, teasing, fondling - the basics of arousal. There was part of that I was never very good at - a thing called claiming. You probably do it naturally, since you are dominant. Partly by training from these women, and partly from my basic nature, I'm a submissive. Any man from our softball team could demand I give Pam to him for the night and I would do it. It would rip my guts out, but I would do it. The difference is that with you, I could do it and be happy about it. That isn't all of it of course, I was extensively trained in orally pleasing women, plus using and being used by vibrators and strap-ons. Pam has continued that exploration, and has been eager to have some of her girlfriends join us. So that is pretty much it, women taught me to eat pussy and take it up the ass in penance for having a four inch dick." Stan explains glumly, although he was cheerful up to the last sentence.

"So what is this claiming technique?" I try to move on to something less stressful, even though I already had a pretty substantial knowledge of the subject with lots of experience using it.

"Don't gaslight me, Dick. You know what claiming is." Stan objects as his mood sours.

"Claiming is a way of touching a woman which bypasses her conscious mind, and reaches deep into the most primitive parts of her brain to tell her that her mate is in control, and she belongs to him. First is the hair pull. Second is scratching, clawing, grabbing. Third is biting, like hickeys. Fourth is slapping/spanking. The fifth technique is direct sexual claiming, oral, vaginal, anal. The sixth is symbolic claiming, rituals, restraints, etc. Some have argued there is a seventh technique, which is based on forms of submission, the four A's: Anywhere, Anytime, Anyway, Anyone. Some say that is covered in the fifth technique. The key is that it is a dominant to submissive set of techniques." I expound just to make sure Stan knows what it means.