Audrey Ch. 02

When they were satisfied with their work, the two women came up and stood before the man seated on the couch. It was Sarah who spoke.

'Where do you want us?' she said.

'Don't tempt me,' said Bryan with a chuckle.

'We're not joking.'

Sarah knelt down and leaned on one of his legs, putting her small, pale hands on his thigh. Becky followed Sarah's lead and took up the same position at his other leg. Bryan got an immediate hard-on. Becky looked at the bulge in his pants, her breathing low and quick. Sarah looked the man in the eye.

'Becky and I have decided,' she said, 'that tonight, we belong to you. Whatever you've dreamed of doing to a woman, do it to us. Command us to do it to each other, if you want. Be utterly selfish. Between now and midnight, Becky and I are your bitches.'

She lifted a hand, raised between her and Becky.

'Agreed?' she said.

Becky realised that this was addressed to her. She took Sarah's hand, clasped together in bonded agreement, and looked Bryan in the eye.

'Agreed,' said Becky.

She was creaming her knickers. There was no going back now and she was aching to free Bryan's cock from his pants. Strange, as it was a cock she had seen a thousand times, yet now, somehow, it felt like the cock of a king. Bryan sat there, face impassive, as he looked at his women, his playthings, his slaves. He was figuring out what he wanted and Becky realised she was dying for him to give his first command.

'All right, both of you,' said Bryan. 'I want to see your tits.'

Becky pulled off her sweater, undid her blouse and removed her bra in under five seconds. She knelt up straight so that her full, round breasts could be shown off to best advantage. Sarah took a little longer, but when she was topless, she too knelt up straight, her smaller breasts pointing in the man's direction.

Bryan looked at his wife and crooked his index finger to say 'lean forwards'. Becky obeyed, leaning on his thigh, and Bryan put one hand on the back of her neck and cupped a breast with the other. Becky felt his hand assess its weight and a thumb gently teased her broad areola and nipple.

'Very nice,' said Bryan. 'Very, very nice.'

He removed his hands and Becky leaned back up.

'Now, you, Audrey,' he said.

Watching her husband grope another woman's breast almost sent Becky over the edge. Sarah had perky breasts with compact dark nipples that stood out like chocolate drops. Bryan traced one with his thumb and Sarah let out a gasp. Meanwhile, Becky's thighs were writhing, unable to keep still.

Bryan finished with Sarah and she knelt back up. He turned to look at Becky and saw her open mouth and twisting hips.

'Oh, my goodness,' he said. 'Just look at you.'

Becky swallowed, her eyes pleading.

'Stand up, bitch,' said Bryan coldly.

Becky got quickly to her feet. Sarah watched the scene from Bryan's right knee with intense curiosity.

'Take off your jeans,' said Bryan.

Becky pulled off her jeans and threw them aside. Sarah gasped. Becky's panties displayed a huge, dark patch.

'Take those off too.'

Becky pulled off her panties and was about to discard them when Bryan held out his hand. Becky handed them over and stepped back, now totally naked. Becky saw Sarah eyeing her shaved pussy. Meanwhile, Bryan stretched out the panties and looked at Sarah.

'Ruined,' he said, shaking his head.

He threw them aside and looked at the two women, from Sarah to Becky.

'Well, this changes things,' he said. 'So, I'm switching your roles. From now on, Sarah is my wife... and you are Audrey.'

Sarah looked at Bryan, surprised but also with a gleam of triumph in her eyes. Becky's legs began to shake. The man was humiliating her, stripping her of her rightful position, replacing her with Miss Goody Two Shoes and displaying his former wife for amusement. And, for some reason, Becky found this insanely arousing.

Bryan reached for a cushion and tossed it on the carpet at Becky's feet. Becky looked at it, confused. Bryan enlightened her.

'I want you to lie on the floor,' he said, 'and masturbate for us.'

Sarah choked, her expression shocked. Becky was enraged. How dare Bryan make her do this in front of another woman! But her knees were already bending, her body moving downwards, her hand reaching for the cushion as though unable to disobey. She lay on the floor, put the cushion under her head, and then opened her legs so that her husband and his new wife had a clear view of her cunt. She reached down and began fingering herself.

Sarah stared, her face stamped with disbelief. Becky saw that Sarah was shocked at her, judging her, thinking of her as a slut, and the agony of losing her friend's respect somehow intensified the waves of pleasure she was feeling in her body as the orgasm began to build. Her whole nether region seemed to vibrate as her fingers circled faster and faster, her breasts wobbling before her. Then past her flexing feet, Becky saw Bryan put his arm around Sarah's waist and pull her onto his lap. His hand covered one of her pale, perky breasts. The two turned to face each other. They kissed.

The orgasm hit.

Becky screamed and gasped, her back arching as almost unbearable jolts shook her body. Her head stretched forward, tendons standing out in her neck, as her fingers kept going round and round, milking her clit for more, more, more. Suddenly, it was too much. Becky cried out, grabbed her entire labia with her hand, pressing it as hard as she could as her limbs jerked and shuddered. Then, at last, she collapsed backwards, landing on her back in sweet exhaustion, cushion flying off to the side, spots dancing before her half-closed eyes. Her legs shook some more, toes stretching, and then finally she lay still, her chest heaving up and down.

*************************

Bryan sat on the couch with Sarah on his lap, kissing her for the first time, tasting her for the first time, feeling her lips and tongue for the first time. And his very first thought as she kissed him back was, 'Wow, you really are a Catholic schoolgirl.' Her kissing was cautious, careful, her tongue entering his mouth like someone peering into a room. It made Bryan realise how aggressive, even combative, his lovemaking with Becky was, their tongues like gladiators in the arena of their mouths.

This is not to say kissing Sarah wasn't sweet. Bryan loved kissing Sarah, had been dying to kiss Sarah, and now that he was finally doing it, he didn't want to stop. But as he kissed Sarah, his free hand on her naked upper body, he had the thought that he had to learn her, to find the right doors and discover how to open them.

Then Sarah broke away, frowning, pensive. She turned her head to look at Becky.

Becky was lying on the carpet, oblivious to anyone. One hand covered her vagina -- out of need, not modesty -- and her other arm was thrown above her head, her hand palm up. Her face was in profile, a slight smile at her mouth, as though enjoying the sweaty scent of her own smooth armpit. There was something animal and unfeminine in the way she lay abandoned on the floor, yet if Bryan were an artist, he would have grabbed his sketchbook and charcoal and tried to capture what he saw. This was 'Woman' in all her erotic glory and now that he was looking at her, Bryan found it hard to look away.

Sarah reached for a cushion and held it over her chest. She turned to Bryan.

'Did you actually want to kiss me?' she said. 'Or were you doing it for her?'

Bryan looked at Sarah. It was clear by her expression that the next words he spoke would determine whether she would continue talking to him or pick up her clothes and leave the room. So much for We're your bitches, thought Bryan.

'I wanted to kiss you,' he said.

'I don't believe you,' said Sarah. 'I'm not saying you didn't want to kiss me -- I'm not that insecure. But I don't believe it was the main reason.'

Bryan turned his body to face her.

'Sarah, when you made that speech at the beginning,' he said, 'and you said, "Be utterly selfish", my very first thought was, 'Does that mean I can send Becky upstairs so that I can be alone with Sarah?' But I couldn't do that. I couldn't.'

Sarah looked at him for a moment.

'I want to believe you,' she said.

'I'm not in the habit of lying.'

'So you're saying you didn't want to hurt your wife's feelings?'

'It goes way deeper than that.'

Bryan stretched out his arm, pointing to Becky on the floor.

'I made a vow to love and honour that woman,' he said. 'And believe it or not, I actually take that vow seriously. But what does it mean to love and honour a woman? What does it mean in practice? Especially when you have feelings for someone else?'

'Bryan, what are you trying to say?'

Bryan took a deep breath.

'I'm trying to say that when you stood up and told me that you and Becky would "be my bitches", I knew you didn't mean it. I knew you were trying to find a way to get what you wanted without having to admit the truth.'

'What "truth"?'

'That if you and I were to make love, it would mean something. It wouldn't just be sex. It would actually mean something. I felt it the night of the dinner and that feeling has only gotten stronger. And I think you know exactly what I'm talking about.'

Sarah found it hard to hold eye contact. Bryan frowned.

'Listen, if I'm wrong,' he said. 'If I've misread the situation, then please tell me. It would actually be a relief.'

Sarah hugged the cushion and said softly:

'You know I feel the same way.'

'Okay,' said Bryan. 'So we both understand the situation. But the question remains: what do we do? What do we actually do?'

'You fuck her, for god's sake!' came a voice from the carpet.

Sarah and Bryan jumped. They were so intent on their conversation that they forgot the sprawling figure on the floor had ears. That figure was now sitting up, breasts round and sensual, like the statue of a goddess come to life. Becky looked half annoyed, half amused.

'God, you two!' she said. 'Blah! Blah! Blah! You make terrible cheating lovers!'

Bryan laughed. Even Sarah had to smile. Becky walked on all fours like a cat to the couch and knelt up before them. Unlike Sarah, Becky totally carried off bare-breasted confidence.

'Sarah, do you want him or not?'

'Becky...'

'I've got him for the next forty years. I can spare him for one night.'

Becky turned to her husband.

'Take her to our bed, Bryan. I'll sleep in the spare room.'

Sarah opened her mouth to protest and Bryan said quickly:

'Sarah!'

It was firm without being harsh or aggressive, and it silenced her. Becky gave him a slap on his thigh.

'Now that's more like it!' she said. 'Jesus, you had me worried!'

Bryan gave her a look. Becky returned it with a sarcastic raised eyebrow. She got to her feet and began to exit the room, picking up her clothing as she went. Both Sarah and Bryan stared at her bum cheeks as she moved.

'Have a good night,' said Becky. 'And I expect a full report in the morning.'

When Becky reached the top of the staircase, she saw Tara's closed bedroom door in the near darkness. It reminded Becky that she really ought to get her bathrobe. She popped into the marital bedroom where she had left it that morning, slung it over her arm and was about to carry it to the spare bedroom, when she had an idea.

Becky slid open the door of the wardrobe and dug out a silk dressing gown she used to wear. She laid it out on the double bed together with Bryan's bathrobe, switched on one bedside lamp to give the scene a nice glow, and then left, quietly closing the door behind her.

Alone in the spare bedroom, Becky hung up her bathrobe on the door. She then climbed into bed, the duvet feeling cool against her body. She bounced a little, settling down on her side, then hooked a leg around the edge so that she had fluffy, cool duvet between her legs. It was bliss.

Becky lay snug in bed, enjoying her happiness. No, not quite happiness... her peace. She felt utterly at peace. The voices in her head that had been plaguing her for an entire month, telling her that Bryan was secretly in love with Sarah, that Bryan respected Sarah more than her, that Bryan would realise that he'd be happier with Sarah -- those voices were gone. Completely gone. No, not just gone... obliterated.

Becky had obliterated Sarah that evening. Whatever Sarah might have to offer Bryan, it couldn't compete with what Becky had. Bryan looked at Sarah with tenderness, but this evening he had looked at Becky with awe. She really was a sex goddess! Even as she left the room, she knew he couldn't wait to fuck her again. She remembered one time when Bryan had grabbed her, pulled her to the floor and almost yelled in her face, 'God damn it, Woman! You make me want to fuck you into a million pieces!' Compare that to: 'If we made love... it would mean something.' Becky hugged the duvet and chuckled to herself.

The resident feminist in her head said, 'A woman has a right to be loved and respected by her husband. She shouldn't have to compete for it.'

Oh, get real, thought Becky. The feminists say that men should respect us, but what they fail to say is that the number of men whose respect is worth having is alarmingly low. Ordinary men are common pretty much by definition, but the extraordinary men... well, women outnumber them, simple as that. And if a woman wants an extraordinary man, she has to contend with all the other women who want him. However much Becky and Sarah genuinely liked each other, on some level they were in a primal contest, a battle of cavewomen, to get the Alpha Man to choose her for his mate.

And the Alpha Man gets to choose. That's what makes him alpha. If a man lets a woman choose, he's not alpha, by definition. And Becky could hear the feminists screeching in her head, wanting to redefine the word 'alpha' to mean what they want it to mean, along with a whole lexicon of words which had the temerity to reflect existential reality instead of the world as it 'should' be.

But orgasms don't lie. And when Bryan commanded her, dominated her, demonstrated mastery over her, in sex and speech, Becky experienced bone-shaking, nerve-jangling orgasms. Orgasms which exploded from her vagina and shook her whole body, leaving her spent, used up, like jelly on the bed or floor or wherever Bryan discarded her. Becky was getting hot just thinking about it, pressing the duvet between her legs to stifle the need.

She felt like masturbating again, but resisted the temptation. Becky wanted to wait until she heard Bryan and Sarah next door. She wanted to hear Sarah's moans and cries as Bryan fucked her with his beautiful cock. She wanted to hear her husband's grunts as he emptied himself into the other woman. And Becky wanted all this without fear or resentment, because somewhere deep down in her bones she knew that if Bryan dared to be ruthlessly male, she could be just as ruthlessly female in return.

*************************

It was dark.

It was dark and the bed was moving. Becky felt a naked body against her body, a brief chill as the duvet was lifted and replaced. An arm went around her midriff, and behind her she could feel a chest, a leg, an erect penis.

'Bryan?'

'You expecting someone else?'

Damn, she had fallen asleep. Becky felt sluggish, tired. Her body wanted to go back to sleep, but her mind was confused. She mumbled:

'What time is it?'

'Nearly two.'

'In the morning?'

'Um... yes.'

Bryan sounded amused. Becky gave him a weak slap on his hand.

'Don't be mean,' she said. 'I was fast asleep.'

'Sorry.'

'Is Sarah okay?'

'Sarah is fine. She's snoring away with a big smile on her face. She'll sleep well tonight, I promise you.'

Becky opened her eyes. Her body was suddenly not quite so sluggish as before.

'Did you fuck her?' she said.

'Yes.'

'Did you come inside her?'

'Now, now, Becky, you know the deal,' said Bryan. 'If you want details, you have to open your legs.'

'You bastard,' said Becky, trying not to smile. 'You fuck another woman, then come into my bed and expect to fuck me as well?'

'Damn right. Now get on your back and open your legs.'

It was a single bed, so Bryan had to lift himself up so that Becky could roll onto her back under him. They positioned themselves without haste and Becky was turned on by how efficiently she could make herself sexually available. She put a hand on his cheek and looked him in the eyes.

'I love you, Bryan,' she said.

'I know.'

Bryan moved down, leaning on his forearms, but he didn't kiss her. Instead, he held his face above hers and watched her intently as his lower half began to manoeuvre. Becky felt the head of his penis find her opening and begin to work its way into her vagina. She let out a grunt, but kept her eyes on his face, watching him and listening to her feelings. Despite the deliciously slow entry, there was something wrong.

He was expecting rejection. Perhaps not full-on 'Get-out-of-my-bed!' rejection, but maybe a frown, a turning away, a quiet 'Sorry, Bryan, but I can't do this.' There was doubt in his eyes. He wasn't sure that Becky was as okay with what he'd done as she made out. And when Becky realised that was the question in his mind, she realised too that she wasn't entirely sure herself.

Bryan pushed.

His cock entered Becky in one smooth movement. She gasped and reached up to hold him, then swore in frustration as one hand got caught up in the fabric of the duvet. Man and woman paused in their fucking to send the duvet to the floor, then sent the pillows the same way so that the bare bed resembled a pagan altar. Bryan turned back to Becky like a lion to his meal and resumed fucking her.

Becky kept the eye contact, hugging his body with her legs, her feet at his buttocks as he fucked her. She wanted him to know that she wanted this, that she was not just being a good sport or 'letting' him do it. Yet despite what her feet and hands were doing, she saw that doubt in his eyes, even felt it in his body. It seemed absurd to believe that a man plunging his cock into a vagina was in any way 'holding himself back', yet that is exactly what was happening.

Becky closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind, but she found it impossible. Her need to somehow convince Bryan to just let go and really fuck her was too strong. She considered stopping and talking about it, then instantly rejected the idea. She could still hear Bryan and Sarah talk about their feelings like chemists arguing over a formula -- so anodyne, so sexless.

So what was missing? What was Bryan's body telling her?

The moment she asked the question, the answer came. Becky took the man's head by the hair and pulled it down to her face. She looked at him, eyes burning with rage, and said in a harsh, angry voice:

'Did you enjoy fucking her?!'

She saw the doubt flare up in Bryan's eyes. He had to force himself to say:

'Yes.'

'Did you come inside her?'

'Yes.'

'Good!' she cried. 'Now come inside me!'

It was like a command from the Queen of Sex and Bryan responded. His arms slid under her body, one supporting her neck area, hand under her head, the other under her lower back, the hand over her buttocks. Becky was lifted from the surface of the bed, held captive in the coils of a giant man-shaped python. And then... he began to fuck her.

My god, what a difference! Becky wasn't just being fucked, she was being thoroughly nailed, her entire hip area held firm in his strong crooked arm as his cock dug into her. Becky felt his lust and desire in every thrust, felt his physical strength, felt his rising need to come inside her. She held his body with arms and legs, surrendering to his fuck, loving him, wanting him, dying to be possessed by him. She felt the moment approach, his thrusts speeding up, his breathing coming faster, and Becky closed her eyes and let all thinking dissipate, her legs unconsciously rising in preparation.