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“I was addicted to them. Those shows suck you in and right when you get to a climactic scene…they cut to a commercial.”
“That’s the story of my sex life. Just when it gets good, the guy needs a commercial break.” Rene slumped into her chair.
“We’ll have to remedy that,” Jared said the right thing, again.
Is it getting hot in here or am I horny? Looking at Jared she knew, she wanted a nasty fuck, like right now.
After talking and flirting for a while, the three of them seemed to get along and the sexual tension between Rene and Jared was obvious. She was into him and he definitely wanted to get into her. In any hole possible. Hips or lips, he wasn’t worried about where.
Rene figured she would throw caution to the wind and follow along with this game being played on her. These were a couple of really cute guys. She didn’t have anything else to do. She had left her job, needed a change and this little adventure seemed like fun. Stupid…but fun.
As the three of them chatted and talked about a variety of things from the weather to bad television shows, the obvious connection between them grew.
“What the fuck. Let’s go.” Rene threw her hands up and began to get up from the table.
Also getting up, Jared knocked a napkin holder off the table. He bent over to pick it up and Rene’s eyes stared at his muscular ass. Ache crept through her pussy. She imagined her fingernails digging into Jared’s ass as they fucked.
“Anybody home? Heloooooooo? I can’t believe it. Jared bends over and you are a vegetable.” Tommy obstructed her view. “Look…don’t I have a nice ass, too?” Tommy posed in a standard jeans ad pose, sticking his ass out with his shirt pulled up.
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S.L. Carpenter
“Well, yes, I am sorry.” Blushing six different shades of red, Rene was caught wishing for Jared’s pants to fall down.
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In the End
Chapter Three
After following Rene to her apartment in the truck, the two guys stood in her small home.
“I just need to get a few things.” Rene ran into her bedroom while Tommy and Jared stood in the middle of her tiny apartment.
“Ewwwww, and she does interior design?” Tommy looked around the room, analyzing the décor, his own ego and realm of expertise showing its face. The room was bland, with only a couch, loveseat and a small end table. On the wall hung a flat-panel television and a few unimpressive pictures.
“It looks as though she’s never home. She must be one of those workaholic types.” Jared walked into the kitchenette area. He glanced into the fridge and saw old pizza, some outdated milk and various flavors of yogurt and some pre-made salads. No beer, hmmm.
Tommy walked over to the large window, which led to a small patio. He opened the sliding glass door and went outside. “I love the night air,” he said, leaning on the patio railing overlooking the city.
Jared moved toward the bedroom and saw the door ajar. With his finger, he opened it a bit more. Leaning against the wall, he saw Rene’s reflection in the full-length mirror she had on her closet door.
Hmmm, interesting, he thought as Rene was pulling her blouse off and standing in her panties. She reached her arm back and unfastened her bra, letting it fall. Jared stood, admiring her nicely shaped breasts. He bit his lip, hungry for more.
Rene was oblivious to Jared’s watchful eyes. She doubted whether she should go with these two strangers who seemed to have some rather strange kind of bond with her. Instead of behaving in her normal, “little miss careful” manner, she was throwing 17
S.L. Carpenter
caution to the wind. Acting careless, like some bad actress in an even poorer B-rated movie. But she could really use a little make-believe adventure right about now. That, and a starring role in a hot, erotic, sex movie with two guys.
Her hands fell to her hips and began to roll the waistband of her underwear down.
The silky fabric tumbled along her swaying thighs and legs.
Jared breathed in. Her fragrance was intoxicating. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was but something about her stirred him.
Jared’s thoughts raced through his head. Nice ass. Damn, I am horny again. Look at that small patch of hair. What’s that tattoo say on her hip? Why don’t I just jump her? Why am I thinking all these thoughts? Echoooooo. Where am I? Who’s talking to me? Oh wait, it’s my conscience telling me to pay attention and quit fucking around.
