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An old friend's desperation leads to an all-night threesome.
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Andre's apartment was especially quiet around this part of the week, he reflected. It was a Friday, and people were out.

People except him, that is. What did he have to do once he was done with work? Maybe he could go out and get drunk, but it would remind him of Chloe. His best bet for good times was staying in, alone and not bothering anyone. Someone had to keep the apartment complex warm for everyone else. And, besides. A Friday in couldn't remind him of anything.

The light of his TV bathed him and the leather couch, flashing color after color with the oft-tacky stylings of primetime.

"I wish there were at least some sports on," he grumbled to himself, noticing a tray that had earlier held a TV dinner. It was laying on the couch with him, only slightly more sedentary than he himself.

Feeling somewhat embarrassed at having forgotten it, let alone having left it there in the first place, Andre moved the plastic tray to the table. He should've stayed at work, he realized. He may be a produce manager, but he could help with plenty more things, and managers could choose to add more hours if they wished.

It'd be better than this, he groaned. He felt useless, and like a total slob.

It was getting unconscionably late anyway. Maybe it was time to go to sleep despite his lack of tiredness. He removed the throw pillow so as to lay flat with only his feet up. Andre had begun to doze, dreaming peacefully of artichokes, when two knocks sounded at his door. He looked up with a sleepy wince, unsure whether he'd imagined it.

He turned the volume of the TV down.

There it was again: a quiet knocking, tentative even.

Cracking his knuckles, Andre got up and headed for the door with adrenaline burning his stomach. A knock at the door after midnight was generally one of two things: a criminal, or someone delivering terrible news. And police knocked a lot louder than this.

Andre pressed his eye to the peephole, and was shocked. He swung the door open. "Hi Andre," Caity proclaimed. Andre's cheeks grew hot at the memories of their last encounter. He couldn't tell if it was embarrassment he was feeling or something else.

"Hi," he said, studying her up and down.

Her curves were hugged and thrown into sharp relief by a black denim dress. It was adorned with several studs, and zippers that might've been pockets, but were probably just there to give it a punky look. Her lips were smeared with purple lipstick, and her common black mascara was replaced with a glittery iteration of the same shade of purple. Her dyed red locks were trapped in a ponytail. Andre remembered how her hair had felt when it was trapped in his fist, and he felt himself getting turned on. He decided to focus on something else, like the stone pendant around her neck, but that only drew attention to her smooth, pale neck.

He looked down at his feet. She wore glossy black zip-up boots that went up to her shins.

A drop of what he chose to believe was rain rested midway down her inner thigh, the moisture just visible in the light from his TV.

"Going someplace special?" He asked, pretending to clear his throat afterward. The words had come out more seductive than intended.

"I was. I had a date but he never showed up. Take me instead."

She stepped forward and put her hands on his chest.

She must have felt his heart pounding.

Several sets of words came to mind, one of which was "If you insist," but he tried to choose reactions carefully.

"Are you sure?" He asked. Their relationship wasn't romantic, and frankly he couldn't imagine such a thing. But she was nothing less than appealing, and here she was.

"I brought condoms," she added. "Just in case you don't think I'm sanitary."

Andre stifled an awkward chortle. "I'll take your word for it," he replied, and dawdled an extra moment. One fling was one thing, but this would be a second tryst. And this time she came here specifically for it.

That fact alone decided for him, though it decided the opposite of what he'd expected.

He grabbed her hands and pulled them off of him.

Andre then wrapped his arms around her and kissed her passionately, forcing her mouth open. He nipped her lower lip several times while feeling up her ass with both hands.

"Are you always sub?" He asked.

"I can be whatever you want me to be," she replied breathlessly. "Now get this fucking dress off me. It's too hot for clothes."

"No." He guided her to the couch and pointed; half-smiling, she did as instructed and lay over it, face-down.

Andre folded her dress over, and Caity felt her panties slide down around her knees; the boots kept them from sliding much further without intentional removal.

"I hope whoever stood you up," Andre remarked breathlessly, "feels like one of those publishers that rejected a future bestseller. He might as well be one of them."

Caity smiled at the compliment, showing her bright teeth. She grinned wider as she felt Andre's warm tongue swipe across her butt cheek. He then allowed it to slide slowly from the first exposed inch of her leg to the opposite cheek. He kissed the spot that he stopped on, then nibbled it lightly.

Inside, she hoped he would leave her with a menagerie of butt hickeys, and other hickeys, too. Maybe even bruises. To her, they were like trophies when received like this.

He nipped her ample butt flesh several more times, then spread her cheeks with his fingers. She braced for not-so-gentle penetration; that seemed to be a favorite of his. Naturally, she was shocked when instead she felt his stubble poking the insides of her buttcheeks. He kissed her back door, drawing forth a shrill grasp of ecstasy. Her bottom was bathed in warmth at the tender touch of his tongue.

After a few seconds of anticipation, Caity bit into a throw pillow to quiet herself as he gently pressed his tongue inside her. Her chest heaved with several silenced groans of appreciation and gratitude; she was pretty sure her boobs were working out the top of her dress. Not that it mattered now.

The penetration felt amazing; better than Caity thought she had any right to feel in such a casual encounter.

Andre gave Caity's butt a parting kiss and then stood up, wiping the saliva from his chin.

"You eat ass now?" Caity asked breathlessly, as soon as she removed the pillow from her mouth.

He shrugged. "yours makes me hungry."

"Well it is fair trade and certified organic," she replied, quite wittily in her own opinion. Andre guffawed. "You're getting punished for that!" He pronounced playfully, and manually flipped her over. The friction of the couch against her dress really did pull her boobs free this time; her strapless bra covered one but its best attempt at guarding her modesty wasn't good enough. One nipple was exposed, and only just. Caity lay, booted legs in the air, with one nipple hanging out.

Andre was rapt at the erotic beauty of the vision in front of him.

"I hope you understand that I have to take a photo of this."

"Please do," Caity agreed. "I've never felt sexier."

He captured her from several angles with his phone, and Caity pretended not to be elated by it. Her sexiest moment in recent history would be preserved forever, and shown to who-knows-who if they ran across it. She found that fact more arousing than she should have.

As soon as he put the phone back down on the counter, he climbed onto the couch and straddled her.

"Now. What to do first?"

Caity saw his package bulging in his jeans, and could feel it resting on her chest where he sat lightly over her. If possible, it made her ache more. Although it was outside her generally submissive nature, Caity reached out and slid her hand down his pants, savoring his hard muscles along the way.

Once she got to it, his cock was even bigger than she remembered. He had to undo his pants, either for space or so as not to make a mess in them.

"do what you want but, don't make me finish before you do," he requested.

"Gotcha."

*****

Lyndsey couldn't sleep. She rarely could ever since her parents had blocked porn on her computers. They didn't care that she was eighteen, they said; their roof, their rules.

They didn't seem to understand that sometimes a young woman has needs. Ordinarily she could make do with watching porn on the tiny screen of her phone, which remained unblocked, but she was out of cellular data for the month.

Never ones to underestimate their daughter, the same control was placed on her parents' computers as well. So, even though they were away for the weekend, Lyndsey was still out of options unless she wanted to trudge to the convenience store and settle for a dirty magazine.

Lyndsey had been so excited to have the apartment to herself, and then her phone had run dry just in time.

The only hopes seemed to be her not-always-helpful imagination, or just trying to go to sleep despite her frustration. So far the plan had been the latter, and it wasn't working.

She wished that her hot thirty-something neighbor Andre would give up the Wi-Fi password. He probably would, if she asked; she had never asked.

It seemed like a weird thing to just ask out of the blue. But tonight was different; she could explain the situation and maybe he would take pity on the young and nubile vixen next door.

Not the whole situation, of course.

Just that she needed to do something online and her parents were too controlling.

No, she decided. It wouldn't work. What else besides porn would anyone need the internet for at this hour anyway? She pondered. But maybe there was something. That reasonable doubt was good enough for her not to be embarrassed. She still heard noise from over there, so clearly he was up. Lyndsey slid out of bed, sliding her pajama pants down to reveal bright red panties. She grabbed a pair of jeans instead. If it looked like she was put together, it could look like she was simply up late working on a college paper or something.

She grabbed a brush to tame her long blonde hair, hoping to make her bedhead less obvious.

The lengths I'll go to get off, she mused.

She wouldn't bother with shoes, though. Nobody wore shoes indoors at this time of night.

She heard another sound from the apartment next door. He was making a lot of noise, actually.

The sound she heard next was almost certainly female.

"Is he...?" Lyndsey whispered to herself. Intrigued, she pressed her ear to the wall.

Her ears were greeted by another high-pitched moan and the sound of flesh slapping flesh.

Lyndsay's belly grew hot with both arousal and jealousy.

Well, she needed the Wi-Fi password even more now, she reasoned, and headed out through the empty apartment.

The sounds of his lucky night followed her the entire way, leaving her remarkably wet by the time she reached the door.

Lyndsey headed to his door and reached up to knock, then paused.

What am I? She scoffed at herself. She couldn't interrupt them. Even if he'd answer the door, she'd feel like an ass for dropping in mid-coitus just to ask if she could steal his internet.

However, she could hear them through the door; the wooden rectangle might as well have been tissue paper for the intimate details that met her eager ears.

Without really knowing what she was doing at first, Lyndsay's hand crept between her legs. Her panties were already wet, and her pussy had swelled up in excitement. She rubbed herself once, just to ease the mounting tension, but it didn't release any at all.

She thought about going back into her apartment and finishing the job in private, but the sound wasn't as good in there. Besides; it was so late at night that if anyone was coming home before morning, they probably would have already.

Her privacy was almost assured. And for the small chance that it wasn't... well, that didn't exactly make it worse for her.

She found herself masturbating quite quickly, even frantically, and the relief was enormous. Their sounds were enough for her, but she gasped upon spotting the peephole. The view wouldn't exactly be 1080P as she preferred, but...

Lyndsey leaned up on her heels and pressed one silver eye to the spyglass. Whoever this girl was, he seemed to be giving it to her in the ass. Lyndsey stuck her fingers inside herself up to the knuckles, letting out all the tension of the past few days. Entirely by accident, a squeak of satisfaction escaped her, and she froze in fear.

The noises inside stopped. Lyndsey stepped back from the peephole in panic. The door opened almost immediately. Andre stood in his doorway wearing only a shirt hastily wrapped around his waist.

Lyndsey hadn't taken her hand out of her pants. She was a million kinds of caught.

"I'm, I'm sorry, I just-"

She wanted to explode, or maybe just cry, from sheer embarrassment.

But she didn't want to leave. She'd seen him at the grocery store often in the produce section, milling about the fruits and vegetables as if they were his one true passion, and her and her friends would talk about him and giggle. Now she was in front of him, her sexuality laid bare. Vulnerable.

As much as she felt ashamed of her eavesdropping, she enjoyed him seeing her like this.

"Why listen from outside when you can come in and watch?" Andre proposed. Lyndsey gaped.

"Good question." With a final look at Andre's amused face to make sure she was allowed, she stepped inside.

On the couch, a tattooed redhead lay looking ravished, her hair tousled all about.

"Any requests?" Andre asked. She realized, looking at him standing and regarding her with that naughty grin, that he desired her too. This was a fortunate turn of events for all.

"No, go on, keep doing like you were doing."

"Okay. If you have a request, just shout it out," he insisted.

"Okay."

He remounted his lucky date, reinserting his impressive member into her waiting backdoor.

Her neighbor seemed very skillful with his tool, Lyndsey noted. His partner's face did make it look like it hurt, but only as much as Andre intended it to. It also looked like the girl was having the time of her life.

Lyndsey had always been curious about anal play, but she'd never had the courage to touch her own butt in a sexual way, let alone ask someone else to.

This close-up show was stimulating as well as enlightening. As the lovers fell back into a rhythm of thrusting and rocking hips, her breaths grew quicker and more shrill.

She was about to climax, and Lyndsey was about to follow suit.

Her privates felt so tender and sensitive that she barely had to touch herself to get closer to cumming.

Andre slid deeper inside the girl, then pulled back out.

Lyndsey deflated in disappointment.

"If I let you come now, there's no guarantee you'll be able to keep entertaining us," he pointed out, tracing a finger playfully down her back.

"Jesus Christ you're mean," the girl grumbled, looking down for a moment to catch her breath.

"Lyndsay, this is Caity. She'll be entertaining you tonight," Andre announced, giving Caity a slap on the rear.

"Hi," Caity said, waving awkwardly.

"Last call for requests," Andre said.

Lyndsey growled deep in her throat, or maybe it was more of a purr. The entire world of human heterosexuality was open to her now: on display live in 3D and HD if she would only say the word.

She thought about what some of her favorite things were to see in pornography.

"Go down on her," she commanded thoughtfully. "And stick some fingers up her butt."

"I knew you had it in you," Andre praised. He flipped Caity over and spread her legs, planting his mouth above where her thighs met.

He went to town on her with a cornucopia of slurping sounds, and the ripple that passed through Caity's body showed that it was working.

Caity began to rub her nipples with her fingertips. Lyndsey hesitated.

No girl should have to do that to herself, she fretted, and crossed the small space between them. She rubbed Caity's boobs for her, freeing up her hands to hold Andre's head where she wanted it. Caity's gratification seemed to almost double, and the sensation was surprisingly pleasant for Lyndsey as well.

Am I bi? She pondered.

It felt almost as good to rub this girl's boobs as it did to rub her own.

Either way, I guess I am tonight, she decided. She leaned down and kissed Caity's pink nipple. The boob felt very natural under her mouth; she kissed it several more times without lifting her head, then began to lightly suck it. Caity let out a brief scream, and Lyndsey felt a soft hand sneak under her waistband. Caity massaged Lyndsey through her panties.

She knew she was being rewarded for good behavior, so despite the distraction Lyndsey didn't detach from Caity's breast.

Soon, another hand joined in, this one much larger and stronger. Lyndsey quickly realized she was participating in a threesome. It felt great. Emboldened by the attentions of her dual lovers, Lyndsey pulled her pajama pants down to mid-thigh level and mounted Caity. "Lick my asshole," she commanded Andre.

Maybe it had started out as Andre's lucky night. But now the night was Lyndsay's.

There was no need to tell Andre twice; he dug in as if her butt were an award-winning cheesecake he'd been forced to simply stare at through glass for several months. She supposed that, metaphorically, he had.

Lyndsey kissed Caity forcefully, carried away on a ride of long-repressed lust.

Caity wasn't even shy about kissing back; she wove Lyndsay's blonde hair between all her fingers, and returned every millimeter of tongue that was slipped to her.

She didn't even seem to care that Lyndsey had interrupted her getting head.

Caity reached between lyndsay's legs to finger her while Andre worked on her hind end.

The pleasure was unbelievable; she'd had some sexual experiences before, but nothing like this. Even though she'd never actually had regular sex, Lyndsey didn't consider herself a virgin. No one with an imagination like hers could truly be called a virgin, in her opinion.

She was tempted beyond words to simply let the two of them go to town until she had the big daddy of all orgasms, but she was determined to milk this opportunity for as long as possible, and she was taking no chances on her own stamina.

Lyndsey pulled away from Caity's kisses, a trail of drool running down her sharp chin.

"I'm gonna take a break," she decreed.

It was a personal taste, but she quite loved the feeling of her ass being wet with Andre's saliva, and the way it made her buttcheeks slide around when she sat down on the arm of the sofa.

"Go at it again," Lyndsey commanded. "Missionary this time. Make her scream."

Andre crossed his arms and peered at her. "I take requests, but do you know what happened to the last girl who came into my domain trying to boss me around? I stretched her to her limits and left her crawling back for more."

Lyndsey didn't know where the words came from, but she spoke automatically.

"You will address me as mistress," she replied. "Now do as you're told and please her."

"Are you sure you want me to do it to her and not you?" he purred.

Lyndsey groaned a groan of suppressed interest. She did want to be pinned down and stuffed, wanted to have her lip bitten and her ass slapped without mercy. But later. Right now, she wanted to be a domme.

"Is he a switch?" Lyndsey asked Caity.

"Well," she considered, assessing him with narrowed eyes, "he did really like it when i bit his dick."

Andre's face flushed even deeper, either at the memory or at being exposed for what he was.

"I am a switch," he confessed.

"Well isn't it your lucky night?"

She turned to Caity.

"Tie him up."

Caity rose from the couch and disappeared into an adjoining room. Lyndsey assumed it was a bedroom, since the rest of the place was apparently all one room except for the bathroom.

12