Her Anchor (56 page)

Soon, I was being hoisted up onto the bed between the two of them, my body bouncing and my breasts jiggling as I settled on the mattress, and the three of us really getting down to business. They robbed me of the last few vestiges of my decency, peeling me out of my bra and panties with gliding hands that seemed reverent to my flesh, working me into full, hot, wet, and unadulterated nudity between the two of them. Then, they positively enveloped me, our three naked bodies tangling up into a heaving, fleshy mess, skin grinding up against skin, and every ounce of my body feeling as though it were throbbing with want for them.

I could feel the shafts of their cocks pushing hard up against my body, my saliva coating them as they burned me as though with cattle prods, my need for them getting more and more pressing all the while. Their lips and hands, too, were all over me, leeching onto any surface of flesh they could find, and getting me so damn worked up that it seriously made my head spin.

Then, God help me, the three of us rearranged our collective body across the bedspread, meticulously arranging ourselves in such a manner that all three of us could successfully reach one another. All of us bowed our heads between the legs of the next person in line, and began to suck on whatever set of genitals happened to come into our path.

My lips were around Bobby's large penis once again, my tongue twisting and screwing around him. Charles, meanwhile, was eating out my pussy for the second time that day, his unbeatable oral skills once again overwhelming me as his head bobbed steadily between my wet thighs, each lick its own miniature agony, and my head getting lighter and lighter with each progressive roll of his tongue.

And then, almost shockingly, Bobby was sucking on Charles' cock, his cheeks compressed around the thing and his lips melting along his shaft, tongue twisting, and occasionally taking breaks to nibble on the red, swollen sack of his scrotum. I simply couldn't believe that the two of them were allowing themselves to go this very, very far with one another, and though I could only really see them through the periphery of my own oral torment, the sight of it was like nothing I could ever have imagined.

Soon, all three of us were grunting, groaning, overloading ourselves with pleasure, and all three of us arriving at orgasm almost simultaneously. I tasted Bobby's hot, sticky sperm, swallowing his load whole and squinting my eyes tightly as my husband's own climactic efforts caused my legs to come crushing around his bobbing head. And Bobby, I knew, must be swallowing my husband as well, as I heard him grunting and breathing hotly between my legs.

At last, we managed to untangle ourselves, the two men dripping slightly, and my head still reeling with a lack of real comprehension with regards to any of this. We were going to have to kill some time before either of my two studs were ready to have at me again, I knew, and accordingly, we tangled ourselves up once more.

Making out for some time, groping and touching, toying around with one another's naughty bits until they began to take on the state of arousal once more. I savored the feeling of the two of them beginning to harden back up once more as they played with my plump titties, suckling on me and squeezing me tightly, until at last I knew the moment of truth had arrived.

My husband laid down first on the bed, his heaving, muscular body astonishing as ever as he draped himself out there, his long, sharp shaft poking up toward the ceiling. I climbed up onto his body, leering at him with the eyes of a predator, and slowly inserted him into my body, pushing his cock into my pussy, the feeling more beautiful than ever in my unsuspecting state of mind, and causing me to groan with pleasure.

I slowly worked my pelvis on top of him a few times, grinding back and forth, loving the feeling of him digging through my soft, floral folds, and then slowly, slowly, bending down, lying my body down on top of him, and my luscious, sharp breasts pooling up between the two of us.

I kissed him for a moment, peering romantically into his eyes as though to thank him for putting all of this together for me. And then, God help me, my attention was drawn from this altogether, as the weight of Bobby's anatomy was then added to the pile, mounting me on top, and putting himself inside me.

His cock penetrated deep into my pussy, grinding agonizingly up against my husband's own erection through the folds of my body, pushing, pushing, pushing inside, stretching me out so wide I could hardly stand it, and so that I felt like crying out from the insane mixture of pleasure and agony now shooting through my body.

And at last, with some degree of effort, my two men were inside me, beginning to stroke, to push, to pump, to fuck me into next week, sliding through my body, churning me up into a trembling, glorious pulp between them.

They pounded me brutally, smashing me until I was screaming bloody murder, and at last pushing down deep inside me, holding themselves in place, and setting me over the edge. They came into me, their still thrusting shafts coated in a hot, sticky lubricant of each other's sperm, and the combined effect of their love setting me on fire with orgasm yet again.

And there we were, the three of us, locked in love on a hotel bed, rolling around like that for hours, fucking one another repeatedly through the night, and the many inhibitions I'd once faced all but gone out the window. This was, indeed, the happiest birthday I had ever celebrated thanks to my sweet, considerate husband-

Even if, at the time, I had had no idea whatsoever that I'd just become pregnant with one of two men’s child.

THE END

Rachel had some terrible luck with men, but this was probably the worst. She had dated a drug dealer for a while during her years in college and hadn’t realized it until her Philosophy Professor gave her $100 attached to one of her papers with a note that read: “Tell your boyfriend, thanks.” She had dated an “up and coming DJ,” for a while, but that ended when he had been saving up money for their anniversary and spent it on a new pair of speakers for his beat up Honda Civic. But this new guy, Jimmy, was probably the worst.

Not worst in the sense that he wouldn’t care for her, he made it very clear that he would “take care of her,” if he had to, but assured her he didn’t want it to get to that level. They’re dating life began on a Wednesday night shift at O’Flannigan’s, a terrible corner pub that sat a block or two away from where Rachel lived. At the end of the night after serving the few regulars that staggered in every night, she collected the trash and made her way into the back alley of the bar. That was where she and Jimmy made their fateful meeting.

She lifted the cover of the dumpster and struggled to lift the trash bags up to the lip of the grimy, graffiti ridden dumpster when a voice called out to her from the shadows. She had never run into anyone in an alley way before and had to admit that she was pretty embarrassed that for all her bravado and braggadocio after living in the “big city” for so long, it made her jump and her heart stopped.

“Need some help with that, miss?” She turned and saw a man, dressed in a loose fitting suit, standing a few feet away from her. Rachel took a few seconds to process what she was seeing. There was a man who, by all accounts, was being very polite in asking if she could use help because she was clearly struggling. However, as she looked him over she noticed that in one hand he held a semi-automatic pistol and in the other he was holding the hair of man who was struggling to stay in the kneeling position in front of him, his eyes swollen shut.

“Uh, that would be nice actually,” Rachel said nervously. Even in the dark night and through the shadows of the alley she could see the man smile genuinely and under different circumstances she would have thought he was very handsome.

He let go of the man’s hair and the beaten man slumped into himself. She could hear him weeping slightly as the stranger stepped forward into the light. As he walked towards her he reached behind his back and tucked the gun away into the waistband of his pants. He held out his left hand, which Rachel found strange.

“The name is Jimmy Spagna,” she took his hand and they shook awkwardly. “It’s great to meet you.” He had a fantastic smile, which took her by surprise considering the juxtaposition in what he was just doing. He leaned down and took the few trash bags from her hand and lifted them up easily, again with his left hand.

His right hand was firmly tucked away inside his pocket as if he was an uncomfortable teenager who didn’t know what to do with his hands on the first date. She thanked him for the help and looked over at the man who had begun to crawl away slowly.

“Oh, we can’t have that Marty.” Jimmy walked over to Marty as he pulled himself along the concrete and Jimmy reared back as he walked and kicked Marty in the stomach, causing him to collapse hard onto the ground. He looked down at the foot he had used to kick him and swore under his breath. Jimmy shrugged and turned back towards Rachel who dared not move.

“Scuffed my shoe. Can you believe it?” He laughed and pulled the gun back out from his pants. With his right hand he reached inside his coat and pulled out a long, cylindrical object and awkwardly screwed it onto the barrel of the gun.

Without looking he aimed the gun back at Marty and emptied the magazine into him. Rachel recoiled in fear, expecting a loud noise but was greeted by the airy “thwip” of a suppressed gun. After the gun clicked a few times, Jimmy turned around to look at Marty’s lifeless corpse. He chuckled softly to himself and began to unscrew the silencer from the gun.

“A gun without a suppressor is much more intimidating, but unrealistic in today’s ‘see something, say something’ mentality.” He releases the empty magazine and replaces it with another he was carrying in his jacket. “Now, you’re not going to say anything are you?” Rachel began to shake her head and stammered out a response.

“Why would I? I didn’t see anything.” Jimmy laughed and closed the short distance between them. His right hand came out of his pocket and Rachel noticed that his thumb was missing. The four fingered hand caressed the small of her back and steadied her shaking. He began to lead her back into the bar, but she just stammered while looking at the body. Jimmy looked back over his shoulder at it and shook his head.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ve got people for that. Let’s get you a drink.” Rachel looked back over her shoulder as Jimmy led her back inside and she saw two portly men step out of the shadows, dressed in similar suits to Jimmy, but much cheaper. They each grabbed Marty’s arms and legs and began to carry him down the alley to a parked car that had the trunk open and waiting. She could feel her legs shake as she stepped through the door that Jimmy held open for her. If she hadn’t been so scared she might have been more cautious of the symbolism.

******

As Rachel reached the bar stool she collapsed onto it. Her boss, a short Italian man who had a slight drinking problem, started to speak asking her what had taken so long, “it was only garbage after all,” but upon seeing Jimmy he stopped speaking. Jimmy stared the man down and Rachel watched as her boss, a man who had always intimidated her, put his hands up in a sign of defeat.

“Mr. Scaletti, why not get myself and the lady a drink.” Jimmy reached across the bar and lifted two clean glasses out from behind it and placed them in front of himself and Rachel. “On the house of course.” Jimmy smiled and placed his hand on Rachel’s shoulder who was still shaking slightly. Jimmy felt her shaking and called for Mr. Scaletti, who was reaching for a bottle of vodka. “Hey, I said on the house. Top shelf whiskey, please. What do I look like, some kind of Russian whore?”

“Of course not, One Thum-I mean, Jimmy.” Mr. Scaletti walked back to the whiskeys and reached up to the top of the bar and pulled down a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue. He opened it gingerly and poured about two fingers worth of it into each glass. He turned and went to put the bottle away, but Jimmy’s hand snatched out and caught his wrist. Mr. Scaletti’s eyes pleaded to let him go, but Jimmy didn’t seem to care much for what he wanted. They stood locked like this for a few awkward moments until Rachel’s boss’ hand loosened and he placed the bottle back onto the bar.

“Ah, that’s a good man. I’ll be sure that this will be remembered.” Jimmy raised his glass and looked at Rachel so that she would do the same. She felt awkward about it, still uncomfortable by how this stranger so confidently walked all over the man who had tormented her life for the better part of a year. His frustrations with the state of the finances fueled by his unwillingness to not drink from his own till. Not to mention he just killed a man right in front of her.

However, Jimmy had given her this, so she should take the victory. They clinked their glasses together and each sipped on the whiskey. “So, tell me Mr. Scaletti, what could my,” Jimmy searched for the word, “employer do for you to repay this kindness?” Mr. Scaletti, who had been absently cleaning a glass trying not to think about how expensive the bottle was, stumbled over his words. Rachel didn’t know what came over her, she wasn’t a light weight, but something about Jimmy and the whiskey made her feel confident.

“Don’t stutter, Mr. S it’s unbecoming. Jimmy asked a question.” Jimmy laughed out loud and Mr. Scaletti stared at her with his mouth open. Jimmy reached over and kissed Rachel on the cheek playfully and continued to laugh as two men, the same two men that Rachel recognized from outside, walked in the front door. They went to go take a seat in the corner, away from everyone else, but Jimmy called out to them.

“Boys, Rachel over here is taking a shit on Mr. Scaletti.” The two men laugh wildly and decide to sit at the bar with Jimmy and Rachel. “It’s like she’s already part of the gang, eh?” Jimmy kissed her on the cheek again and Rachel lifted her glass to her lips. She shot back the remaining whiskey without breaking eye contact with her boss, now former boss she had to assume, and poured herself another glass.

She had made a lot of mistakes when it came to men, but this was the first bad decision that seemed to have any real perks.

******

Rachel bowed out at some point after the fourth or fifth glass of whiskey. She wasn’t quite sure what she had said to Mr. Scaletti, but she knew that it had gotten a big laugh from the bar. Apparently either Jimmy or his two men had called and told other people that they needed to come and hang out at his bar and everyone seemed to love making jokes at Mr. Scaletti’s expense. Rachel had a lot of material to work from and a lot of the jokes were pretty deep, personal cuts. She would have to call and make sure that he was okay.

Until then though, she found herself being driven home by Jimmy. Rachel was shocked to find that for a man that she had just witnessed kill another man, he was oddly charming. He was kind as well and gentle when it mattered. He helped her to the car and he even had one of his sober friends drive. She had told him it was only a few blocks but he had insisted and she was in no state to say otherwise. So, when they arrived home she had sobered up enough to make the next decision. The decision to invite him up.

The way she saw it, she was jobless at this point. There is no way Mr. Scaletti would let her live that down and honestly she wouldn’t want to go back to that hell hole even if he was okay with it. Rachel was a fighter and knew that she needed something, or someone, to keep her on her feet till she could find a new job. Who better than the man that everyone in your neighborhood fears? So, Rachel invited him up and made an evening of it.

Rachel led him up the stairs and Jimmy held on to her as they walked. Not to guide her, but rather it seemed like he couldn’t take his hands off of her. Every time they reached a new landing he would rush up the last steps so that they were even and he would press into her, his pants already bulging a bit. Rachel was tipsy and more playful than usual, but she had a feeling that this was going to be easy.

They reached the door and as Rachel fumbled with the lock and keys, Jimmy began to muzzle into her neck, kissing and biting at her ear. When he did it the first time a sharp jolt of pleasure shot through her body and seemingly knocked the keys out of her hand. They both laughed as she bent down to pick them up, doing so slowly so that her ass pressed against his crotch firmly. Jimmy moaned and moved his hands to her hips where he forced her into him a bit more and he squeezed her hips.

Rachel stood back up and placed her keys inside the lock as Jimmy’s hands slid from her waist up to her stomach and tits. As his hands cupped around them she felt a difference in the hands, but opened the door and stepped through into her apartment. Jimmy followed in after her but let go so that he could look at her humble abode. He tisked under his breath as he walked around her modest studio apartment.

“This won’t do. Not for my girl.” Jimmy quickly walked around and noticed the different things Rachel was using as furniture. Rachel had never minded cutting corners so that she could take in the finer things, like booze and the occasional meal out. This had meant that instead of a coffee table she had a plank of wood that was held up by a few cinder blocks. Her couch was the fold out futon that she had used when she was in college. Her bed was even her bed that she had grown up in through the better part of her life.

“I know it’s not much, Jimmy, but it’s mine, you know?” Jimmy turned to face Rachel and smiled. He walked across the room, kicking a few dirty clothes out of the way as he did so and embraced her. His hands wavered on her waist and he leaned in to kiss her. After a moment of passionately kissing, he pulled away and walked towards the bed.

“I understand darling, but now you’re mine. So you will have better.” Rachel didn’t like the way he had phrased it, but thought that arguing right before they had sex for the first time wouldn’t be the best way to keep him around.

******

Jimmy reached the bed first and pulled Rachel in close, tossing her onto the bed. He stood above her and slowly removed his suit jacket. Rachel moved to start unbuttoning her own shirt but Jimmy held up a finger for her to stop. She followed his order and let her hands fall back onto the bed, each at her side. Jimmy paused and then continued to unfasten his own belt.

He slid the belt out from the loops and held it between his hands. Rachel had always wanted to be the submissive one in a relationship. She had always gotten involved with rough men who loved to be frisky, but once she got them in bed they seemed to forget how spank. The way Jimmy held that belt said that he had a pretty good idea of how to use it.