The Avalon Compromise Pt. 01

Caine had offered to introduce her to his chief engineer, a woman by the name of Maxine, who had a so-crazy-it-just-might-work kind of plan for purifying the soil in the Deadlands. It was exciting and just the type of forward thinking she knew an Avalon administration could foster if given the chance.

Misty asked him to set the meeting up when they reached Under-Denver, RUSA's capital city bunkered under 200 feet of granite in the Rocky Mountains, in a few more days.

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There were more people at her stump speech in Old Frisco than she had expected and a new sense of excitement among them. At this liberal western stronghold, her policies around investing in new technologies to catalyze recovery and tackle inequalities found a willing audience. Even when she was heckled by Ganymede supporters, she barely skipped a beat and the crowd mostly ignored them.

Her campaign staffers were in a celebratory mood during the debrief. Her press secretary, Flavia, read a quote from a local news-flyer, with a glass of what passes for champagne in her hand:

"Avalon hits her stride talking policy. In the mouth of another speaker, it could come off as wonkish and boring — but somehow Avalon's talent is making even economic rejuvenation sound engaging and exciting. When the focus is off her bed habits — or lack of them — and on her policy; she shines."

Flavia raises her glass and the others follow:

"Misty. A few more nights like this and we may just fucking pull this off," she says. "To Misty."

"To Misty!" the others echo. They drink, and then they drink again.

A few of the volunteers, rowdy and horny, split off into a corner for some light sucking and fucking. A redhead Misty thinks is called Shona, or Shonae, or something like that, lifts her skirt and eases herself onto the cock of one of the campaigns' field organizers, sitting behind her.

Misty smiles at them. "Thank you for your service," she says, as is customary.

Shonae returns the smile, shyly: "You can join in, if you like?"

Misty laughs, surprised to find herself not entirely untempted. "I have a donor call scheduled in my room. Maybe next time."

The "donor call" story wasn't a whole lie — Caine, as she expected, was in her room when she walked in. As was Jack.

Misty's heart skipped a beat to see them, sipping black market whisky, the good stuff, on her balcony. Caine must have brought the liquor with him because there was no way Jack's salary covered such luxuries.

"I intend to get my money's worth," Caine says with a grin.

He strides toward her and with a forceful hand wraps his fingers in her hair and pulls her head back — not painfully, but authoritatively. He bends and kisses the skin of her neck, his other hand unbuttoning her blouse and slipping his hand inside her lace bra to roll her nipples between his fingers.

As he does, Jack walks up behind her and puts his hands on her waist. He kisses the other side of her neck as his hands unzip her skirt and let it fall to the floor.

And while Caine's hands play with her tits and Jack's find their way between her legs, the two men's mouths meet in hungry, rough kisses.

Of course Misty's seen men kiss before, just never this close up. A small, puritanical minority argues that homosexual sex doesn't fit into the repopulation manifesto, but the prevailing law and thought accepts and encourages it. If they were prescriptive about repopulation, then oral sex and masturbation would be frowned upon too, and that's just not how society works these days. More sex is good sex as long as it's between consenting adults. Full stop.

Now that she's up close with it, seeing Caine and Jack's tongues twist eagerly near her while their hands and fingers work different parts of her body, Misty realizes she wants to see more.

But first; cock.

Caine's not quite ready to relinquish control yet, and when Misty sinks to her knees and reaches for his zipper — he gently moves her hand away.

"Uh uh. You have to want it," he says.

She glances between Jack and Caine, their pants both bulging.

"Oh, I want you both," she replies.

"Mean it," he says. "Or every time you fail, we'll show you what you're missing."

Misty's confused. What else is she supposed to do. She's half naked kneeling before them telling two men she wants their cocks...

"I want... to suck your cocks... " she begins, hesitantly.

Caine doesn't need to say anything for her to know she failed. With a quick motion, he unzips his pants, letting his beautiful pink cock spring free. Jack's eyes gleam. He spits in his hand for lubricant and slides Caine's cock out of its foreskin, jerking him gently.

A small drip of precum oozes out from the tip. Jack swipes it with his thumb, then tastes it.

Misty moans, jealous. "Oh god."

"Say it," Caine says, his voice deep with desire.

"I want to taste your cocks," Misty says, more emphatically this time.

Jack and Caine share a glance and Misty realizes she's failed again.

Caine reaches for Jack's cock this time. It's girthier, a silky dark brown in his hand. Jack lets out a little grunt of pleasure.

Misty watches, envy and heat building inside her. Her hands reach between her legs as her eyes follow the two men giving each other pleasure.

Her fingers slip inside her panties, finding her clit, slick with wetness. Her other hand travels, almost involuntarily, to squeeze her nipple.

"Oh god, I love watching your cocks," she growls, low, husky and without a trace of doubt.

Caine smiles.

"That's what I wanted to hear."

He crosses to her. "Don't stop," he commands.

And offers his cock to her eager mouth.

Jack takes place behind her on the floor and pulls her panties down. He slides into her from under, she feels his cock fill her, pressing against her fingers as she continues to rub her clit.

He grips her breasts and fucks her, sometimes letting just the head of his cock slide in and out — driving her crazy with wanting the full length of him inside her.

Meanwhile, Caine cups her head and guides her gently as she feels him harden and throb inside her mouth.

"I love watching you fuck," he says — and Misty's not quite sure if he's aiming the comment at her or Jack, or maybe the both of them at once.

Jack pulls her hips back, burying himself deeper inside her. A guttural growl: "I'm gonna cum," he says.

He reaches for Caine's hand and the two of them cum inside her at the same time, with so much cum that it spills out of her and dribbles down her chin and thighs, though she swallows what she can.

Misty leans into Jack, and he cradles her, panting, the last of his cum spurting inside her. His face buried in her shoulder, kissing the crook of her neck.

Caine pulls her up gently and pushes her to the bed.

"We're not done," he says.

First, he turns to Jack and licks the cum and juices from his cock. Then, he licks his lips and turns to Misty.

"We're going to make such a great, fucking team when you're president," he says.

He gently prods her legs open, lapping up Jack's cum from inside her until she screams with joy.

#

Misty falls asleep between the two men. She wakes up once, in the middle of the night, on one side of the bed. On the other, Jack fucks Caine, their bodies moving together, slick and shiny in the moonlight. She watches them, not wanting to disturb, until they finish and once again wrap their warm bodies around hers.

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