Tell Me You Love Me Ch. 05

Story Info
She invites Sara to join them...
10k words
4.58
45.1k
28

Part 5 of the 6 part series

Updated 10/21/2022
Created 09/21/2011
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
Mister_Shy
Mister_Shy
2,686 Followers

The beginning of the end was in January, a few weeks after Tom and I had done it while Bobby was visiting. I was still working my lousy secretarial job, and Tom was still doing whatever it was he did (I was sure he hated it as much as I hated mine) but now there was the unmistaken understanding between us that we were both getting something out of the arrangement. It was never stated outright beyond a few harsh exclamations when we fucked, but we were enjoying our agreement. I liked the money, naturally, but we'd been at it for so long that a few things were clear, most prominently that I liked being paid to be fucked, and Tom liked to fuck me.

Where I was conflicted before I was now much less so. I still considered myself with Bobby but I saw my arrangement with Tom more and more as another job, one I happened to actually like. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't about to sell myself on the street. But it's pretty hard to dislike having a man massage you, eat you out, and screw you until you came every two weeks, then pay half a grand and be on his way without pushing any other agenda. When I thought about it like that I almost felt like Tom was getting shortchanged. But then again, I was what he wanted, and I did what he wanted.

Case in point, it was near the end of January and I was sitting at home in a tight green apron that I'd found in my mother's closet. It was small, and very old, but it suited the purpose I had for it. I watched myself tie it around my naked body in the mirror, making sure that it was as knotted as it could be (Tom didn't want it to be too easy), taking note of the generic floral print running over the borders and the way it faded and frayed at the edges. I smoothed it over my breasts and tummy. The frilled bottom just barely covered my pussy. I checked myself on the sides. The round slopes of my breasts were clearly visible between my arms and the apron front. My butt stuck out, made even more prominent by the tight tie over my hips. After that I sat down and applied makeup. More makeup than I would have, than any girl would have past, let's be honest, 1955.

Tom liked me wet, he liked me sweaty, he liked me, usually, without more makeup than my base foundation and mascara. He didn't seem to mind when I came fresh from the shower either but on those occasions he usually spent more time kissing my labia than my lips, so who knows? But today, on this particular day, he told me he wanted me done up like a pin-up girl. And...I said okay; mostly because I was really horny.

I read in the paper the other day that when men and women get depressed, they tend to get more sexually active (something about wanting to pass our genes on while survival seems low). That could have been it. I didn't like my current career; and while I didn't expect to be a secretary my whole life, and was almost certain that, somehow or other, I'd eventually get to graduate school, and then a real career, it was all still so far away (it seemed). And I didn't like it. In fact, I hated it. That I took pleasure in what Tom and I were doing was a relief to me. So, when he'd mentioned the apron and the makeup, I went to the gym earlier in the day and came home to prepare. I told him to come by at the usual time.

When the doorbell rang, I blew myself a big red kiss in the mirror. Working a little more wiggle into my hips, I traipsed to the door and opened it slowly, a petulant but ready smile on my lips, almost a scowl but a little more like a "come hither and fuck me until you cum, big boy" stare.

And of course it was Fred, from across the street, who I gave it to.

My eyes went as wide as they could and my face fell. Even under my powdered and rouged cheeks, I'm sure he could see me go red. And Fred, poor Fred, pushing retirement age and already with a bad heart, let his jaw slacken and fall nearly to his chest. He tried to recover. We both did. But it was beyond saving.

"C-Cather- Cate, I-"

"Hi, Mr. Linden!" I blurted.

"I-I, oh, I- I'm sorry to bother you, I-"

"No! No, it's fine. What- er, what can I do for- Do you need something?"

He wiped his forehead and took a hard step back. "I'm sorry to bother you. I thought you were home but, I didn't- I didn't know. Oh, my, I- I just wanted to- Linda and I are having our...I put a flyer in the mailbox so just, if you could tell your parents we'd love to." His eyes fell over my cleavage, not just drifted but fairly toppled out of his head to slide down the tight press of the green apron against my bosom. My nipples were a little hard in the air, and the skin of my breasts bulged out the sides - to say nothing of my ass, which rolled back from my bare legs and now twitched from the sway of the apron tie. I couldn't do much more than bat my big blue-shadowed eyes at him and smile courteously, like he'd merely caught me doing my daily chores. My fingers drummed nervously on the door. Fred caught himself and shook his head.

"I'm sorry- I- I'll go, I- please tell your parents."

I don't think either one of us knew what he wanted to tell my parents by the time he convinced his head to turn around and join his tongue in dragging his body down our front walk. I watched him stumble all the way down to the sidewalk and across the street, passing an athletic, amused looking young man on his way to his house. Tom hung his helmet on his motorcycle handle before he pulled his gloves off, then he slung his gym bag over his shoulder and sauntered up to my front door.

I glared at him. "How long were you out there?"

Still a few yards away, he gave a demure smirk that I knew was hiding a much more hideous grin. "A couple minutes," he said, holding it in. "I saw him cross the street and I wondered..."

"What?" I barked. He reached the door. And stared at me.

"If you looked like that," he said.

My fingers left the door frame and drifted down the apron, sliding and then resting to where my thighs met, at the tip of the apron, just over my bare pussy. I folded my hands.

"That's a terrible thing to do to an old man," I said.

"It's not much better for a young one."

"I shouldn't let you in the house."

Our eyes locked. Then his eyes traced my cheeks, ran over my lips, and my neck.

"Say it," he said.

I wet my lips. I'd memorized this. "'Hi, honey. Did you have a nice day at the office?'"

He reached for me, and I reached out to stop him. But his hands slid between my arms, and his face darted for my mouth. Before I could do much good with my hands he had swept me inside and kicked the door closed behind him. He pushed me into the wall by the stairs and fondled me, reaching down to cradle my ass, reaching farther down to pull my thigh up against him, reaching still for my hand, the one trying to bat him off, but his mouth was on me, kissing me, and I was too busy putting my tongue on top of his to sync up the rest of my limbs.

My hands curled around his waist to get at the hem of his gym shirt. He pulled my legs up until both of them were hooked over his waist. He pinned me against the wall with his pelvis, and so I could feel his dick in his pants, hard, still hardening. He broke our kiss long enough to let me pull his shirt over his chest. I flung it over the stairs, and he grabbed my hands. He pinned them to the wall. He thrust up against me, dry humping my pussy with his member.

"I dressed the way you wanted," I whispered into his lips.

"You look beautiful." He licked my mouth.

"- you're smearing my lipstick -"

He groaned and reached for his pants. I mentioned before that he massaged me and ate my pussy? That he took his time exploring my crevices and curves? Normally Tom did all that. But I knew immediately that he was going to fuck me right then and there if he could have his way. And it was exactly what I wanted.

I unhooked my ankles and stepped, gently, down to the hardwood floor. I let my feet touch the cold wood and helped him get his pants over his long, pointed dick. "Where's my money?" I said as he kicked them off.

He reached into the pocket and put the bills on the bannister. He also produced a condom, which he ripped open. Then he kicked off his shoes and suddenly he was naked with me in the foyer. He led me to the stairs, and sat me on the third step. Then he rolled the condom over his long penis and leaned over me.

He kissed my mouth, pushing my body with his own until I was pinned to the stairs. My legs, not knowing how he wanted me, widened to allow him entry. But he continued to kiss me. He stepped down to lay his knee on the second step. He held my wrist in his hand. With his other he curled it around my head and brought me up to him. Our tongues slithered back and forth over each other's teeth. The tip of his penis brushed the apron's edge.

My pussy lips tingled at his impending touch.

He reached around me, putting his chin into my shoulder as he did so, to get his fingers on the top apron knot. I put my hands on his head and kissed up his neck.

"This is what you wanted?" I said. "You want me on the stairs?"

"Upstairs," he said breathlessly. "Your parents' bed."

I kissed his face. "Well do you want my tits now or later?"

"Now," he muttered raggedly into my neck. His fingers continued to whittle at the knot. I knew I'd made it tight, and I couldn't stop myself from grinning. I practically beamed when he gave up for a moment to fondle me through the apron, and from the sides.

"Come on," I said. I pushed him away. Taking his hand, I stepped nimbly around. Then I led him upstairs. My back was completely bare. And no time was that more apparent than when he reached up and squeezed my buttocks. "You're just slowing me down," I said. His fingers retreated. Then I felt a sharp jab and I shrieked. He'd bit me!

I whirled on the stairs to face him but he was like a train. He swept me up and turned left at the top of the stairs. He carried me through the door and deposited me, with a bounce, on my parents' king size bed. He attacked the knot again, getting it loose but not undone. Roughly, he pulled it down so that my boobs squeezed out of the top. But they couldn't come up all the way and remained trapped, my nipples barely clearing the tight front. It was good enough for Tom. He descended on my pink areola and suckled at it, tumbling me over, throwing my legs wide.

I grabbed the back of his head. I tilted my neck back. I opened my thighs.

Tom's dick slid up into my hungry canal and went as deep as his balls would let him. Believe me, I did everything I could to get him deeper. The breath left me as I opened for him, and the sides of his penis rubbed against my legs as he penetrated, moistening when he pulled out, clenching reflexively when he glided back in. Tom was a mindless thing for those first wild minutes. It was so seldom that he ever came at me like that. I could feel the muscles inside him bunch and strain. He pressed me to the mattress with all of his unbridled strength. Tom usually took his time, usually set me up just how he wanted me. But today, today he ravished me. I felt more like I was saving him from drowning than screwing him. I hiked my legs up, my ass at the edge of the bed, until they hugged his ribs. I didn't move my hands. I let him clasp them and pin them to the sheet. He continued to suck at my tits, his mouth on the skin, not just the nipples, like it was the fruit he'd craved his whole life. (I couldn't blame him. Pumped up by the apron like that they looked pretty damn yummy.) His legs were planted in the floor and he pushed into me, and pushed into me, and pushed into me. And I needed it, too. I don't know why but I couldn't get enough of him inside of me. His balls smacked my ass so hard it stung. I squeezed my pussy. A sympathetic pulse echoed back from his dick. And we just fucked each other for a good long while.

I hadn't cum, but I'd had several crashing waves of tremors, just on the cusp of orgasmic, wash over my body, from my bum to my knees and upper chest. Now my throat felt warm; and the very tip of my nose. Then Tom raised his head. His pace slowed and he gently relaxed his grip on my wrists. He slid me up over the bed and clambered up after me. I was no longer at the edge but in the middle, and Tom was in me, now hunched over me. He relaxed into my pussy.

"Tell me you love me," I said.

"I'm not ready to cum yet."

I just stared at him. Our faces rose and fell with his languid thrusts. My face rose with each push, my mouth forming a constant, panting circle. He cradled the back of my head with his rough palm.

"I love you," he said. His dick pulsed and gave me my first orgasm.

I bit my lip. Shuddered a little. Tried not to make it obvious. We were silent for a little bit, then the rhythm picked up, and before I knew it we were doing another whirlwind round and Tom was kissing my chin, and biting it, and I'd pulled my phone out of the apron pocket.

"You want me to use this?" I said breathlessly.

He grunted assent into my jaw.

I don't remember why it was Sara whose number came up but I'll cut through a lot of wet intercourse and kisses to tell you that we ended up with the phone on speaker near the pillows and the apron stripped off completely, my arms held over my head by Tom's strong hands and the two of us bucking wildly into each other's sexes trying to wring cum out of each other (Tom was winning). I was downright randy. I writhed on Tom's dick, making it curve up into my uterus. He was getting close to his breaking point and that made me feel powerful.

But we were obviously fucking when Sara picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Sara-" I murmured.

"Hey- uh," she paused as Tom gave a distinct grunt. "What's up?"

"N-nothin'" I said. My eyes widened as Tom gave his dick some torque and pressed into my g spot.

"What are you doing?"

Tom mouthed 'fucking' over my face and I shook my head. "N-nothin'" I said. "Just..." Tom plunged deep inside me. "AH. FUCKING."

"Oh my god!" said Sara. She sounded surprised, which makes sense. But then she came back with, "Are you serious?"

"Mm," I grunted. I couldn't think straight. I was staring up into Tom's face and imagining what his dick looked like as it slipped in and out of my messy vagina. I was so wet I could feel my juices running down into my ass crack.

"Is Bobby over?" she said.

No he definitely was not. "Y-yeah," I huffed.

"He's fucking you?"

"MMH-hmm." It wasn't fair. Tom squeezed my tits and bent down to suck on my neck. He was going to give me a hickey but I didn't care.

"I can hear you," said Sara huskily. "Hold on!" There was a shuffling, amplified by the speakerphone, a sudden scratching, then a clatter, and Sara's voice returned. "This is so fucking hot. He's fucking you?"

"YES," I said.

"Oh my god." I heard the distinct slurp of fingers in vagina. Then Sara said, "I had no idea you guys were so kinky. Tell me what he's doing!"

"He's fucking me," I moaned. Tom abandoned my neck to glance down at me. I shook my head and closed my eyes. He grabbed my hair and gently tilted my face back. "He's fucking me so hard..." I gasped. "Makes me talk dirty..."

"Oh my god," Sara repeated. "Fuck. I'm fingering myself."

"You are?"

"Yes," Sara whispered. "I'm so high right now. Are you guys actually fucking?"

"Yes!" I groaned.

Another series of squelching squeezes. "Did he make you cum?"

"Yes," I said. "Yes, I'm cumming right now."

"How hard is his dick?"

"So hard," I said. "Fuck!"

"Tell her to join us next week," said Tom.

I laughed. "Yeah, come join us, Sara."

"Really?"

"Yes!" I screamed. At the same time a wordless cry from Sara's end signified that she'd achieved a brief release of her own. I threw my hand out for the phone and pounded it with my fingers - the stupid lights went haywire until I finally hung the stupid thing up and flung it off the bed. I reached up behind Tom's neck. "Now?" I said.

"Almost..."

I squeezed my eyes shut. "...how do you get so riled up?"

"I save it for you."

"Then give it to me... give it to me now."

His dick bulged until my vagina fried my tickled and tingling nerve endings throughout my belly and tits and shook the little muscles under my skin (the ones I didn't know the names for, the ones between my chest and shoulders, the little strings connecting my abdomen to my ribs, the weird divots in the small of my back - and my ass twitched spasmodically). I won't be so romantic as to say we came together, but Tom came, and I rode every last drop out of him. He frowned with the exertion. Each plunge was slower, but strong. I counted them down. 2... 6... 10... Every spurt until they were too faint to feel anymore. My fingers slid over his shoulders. I waited. He held on and squeezed, and thrust, strained, and, finally, relaxed.

My hands followed the relief of his major muscle groups as they softened in a steady cascade. Resting my palms on his belly button, I made him pull out. I didn't want his excess semen leaking inside me. But I smiled when the merest brush of my fingertips made his tender stomach tense and twitch back.

After he left for the bathroom he came back with his damp face in a towel. His grin was almost embarrassed, like he was a little boy with a guilty conscience. "You ought to wear the apron more often."

"No thanks," I said. "Not my thing."

His grin didn't diminish. "Well it works for you. Definitely works for me."

I put my legs together and swung them over the bed. I wiped the sweat off my tits. "Do you want to take a shower?"

"No, I'm going to get a lap in when I get home..." He swallowed. "What about Sara?"

I smirked. "What, you don't think you could handle us both?"

He laughed outright. "You'd do that?"

My smile faded but my eyebrows rose. "That would definitely cost you extra."

"Alright."

Was I bluffing? Was he bluffing? I shook my head. "Let me clear my brain and reconsider the situation. I don't think I can make a proper decision right now." I got to my feet. "Unless you're..."

His eyes slipped over my nose. It took me a few weeks before I realized that was where he was looking when he made that face.

"No," he huffed. "I'm actually running on borrowed time today. I have to... It's a work thing." He looked confused when he tried to find his clothes on the floor. "Right. Downstairs."

"You okay?"

"Better than," he said with an easy smile. "Just tired. But I'm happy to see you." He frowned. "Sorry," he said. "You know what I mean."

I didn't.

* * *

It wouldn't be right to say I was confused, then. It wouldn't be right for me to say I was bored. I was too busy to be bored, and still planning what I thought I might do with the money I'd made, the money that could just as easily have gone to shoes or a new laptop or anything, anything that wasn't my own place. Graduate school was still a dream, but I didn't know if the loan would be worth what I needed it for.

And the things I needed back then were blended with the things I wanted. No, it wasn't confusing; I understood where one began and the other ended. I didn't like that they kept splicing into each other.

I will say, though, that I kept getting tingles.

Small tingles in my bottom when I was behind my desk at the office. Phantom grazes along the tops of my hands where Tom had held them to the mattress.

A threesome was (just like prostitution, I reminded myself) not my thing. But neither were aprons.

(Small tingles walking to lunch, my heels tapping the sidewalk.)

How could it even work? Tom was Tom, and not Bobby. Even Sara could tell the difference.

(Reading in bed, I found my fingers worming gently between my legs.)

Did I think I could get away with it?

(Checking the calendar, like an eager teenager.)

Friday, I made a phone call.

* * *

"You paid for me," I said. "You tell me what to do."

Mister_Shy
Mister_Shy
2,686 Followers