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Chapter 20

MARLON

Damn if our little Kealy was not one of the most smoking hot responsive women I’d ever had the pleasure of kissing. And if all went according to plan, there’d be a lot more kissing of her between Rand and me. We’d been friends a long time, the two of us, having met through the fashion show circuit. On more than one occasion, we found ourselves pursuing the same woman. Neither of us was the jealous type, though—so we’d decided to date the same girl, share her if you like, as long as she was open to it. And she often was.

I mean, what woman wouldn’t want to have two men adore her? Or in the case of us guys, four?

And as Rand and I got to know Shane and Cross, they were intrigued by our unconventional arrangement when they learned of it. They joined us in dating the same women, at least until Cross had gotten married. We all made quite the team.

We shared. Just like a man-harem. The term made me laugh, it was so preposterous. But I had to admit, it came up, again and again.

And in all the ‘arrangements’ we guys had had over the years, I don’t think any of us had been as smitten as we were by Kealy. By any measure, the woman was impressively beautiful and smart, but to see her in her element, practically running Forest’s company—although god knew, she didn’t get credit for it—made my dick hard every time I thought about it. And to be with her then, at Rand’s, with her turned into putty in our hands, well, it didn’t get much better than that.

Rand was still behind Kealy, working over her clit good. She was beginning to shudder, her eyes half-closed, and her orgasm was surely imminent as she held me with a death grip to remain upright.

I opened my own jeans so I could feel her on my cock, and when she wrapped her fingers around me, well shit, I almost blew my load right there.

But I didn’t. I held it. I couldn’t go before our girl. I wouldn’t.

She ran her thumb over the head of my dick, by now trickling pre-cum. I went for her blouse buttons, and in moments, had pushed aside her lace bra to have my hands on her bare tits. When the air hit her lovely breasts, her nipples sprang hard and tight. I pulled on those pretty points until our girl moaned.

With Rand’s hand working her pussy, she bucked her hips back into him, presumably to grind on his hard-on, and then moved them forward again to increase the pressure of his hand.

She moved her hand faster on my cock, her head hanging limp as her breath grew raspy.

“Oh…oh god…yeah…” she cried. “God yeah, fuck me Rand, I love your hand on my pussy, go baby, I’m coming now.”

Her moans turned into screams, her head bucking so hard, her hair flew in every direction. She convulsed violently with orgasm, which threw me over my edge. My balls pulled in tight, and I tensed from head to toe. Roaring like I don’t think I ever had, I spurted hot streams of semen into Kealy’s hand.

She stroked me until I was dry, then put a finger in her mouth to taste me.

“Mmmm,” she moaned, eyes still closed.

“You good, baby?” Rand asked quietly.

She attempted a weak nod as she turned and kissed him full on the mouth.

“Okay. Because now I’d like to fuck you,” he said, running his tongue over her lips.

Her eyes were barely open, but she spoke clearly. “I want your cock. Get a condom.”

Rand raised his hand, victorious. He was holding a Magnum that he’d fetched at some point, when I had no idea, because I’d been kind of busy, myself.

While Rand was getting ready, I helped Kealy out of the rest of her clothes, lowering her jeans until she stepped out of them, and throwing her blouse and bra to the floor. All she was left wearing were her panties, which I pulled down to right below her pretty ass. I wanted to let Rand do the honors as he saw fit.

And Rand being who he was, always put a twist on his good times. Sometimes, I wondered if the guy ever fucked in the missionary position. The way everyone else did it was never the way Rand from the Bronx did anything.

He turned Kealy to face the marble counter and bent her forward until she was at a ninety-degree angle. He pulled her hands behind her back and held both wrists in one of his hands. With her panties just below her ass, she couldn’t spread her legs. But that was okay, because with his free hand, Rand ran his cock between our girl’s ass cheeks until he was good and wet from her juices. Like the hot little thing she was, she even raised her ass a bit to make herself available to him.

Christ, I thought I was going to blow another load. In fact, watching Kealy get worked over by Rand, I took my hand to my own cock, which was already rock-hard again.

He shifted his hips forward enough so I could tell he was starting to enter her. His grip on her wrists pretty much incapacitated her, leaving her with her head turned and cheek on the cold marble, ass waiving in the air.

Beautiful. Fucking beautiful. If I could, I would have taken a photo and used it to beat off every day for the rest of my life.

But I’d never take a picture of our girl. That is, unless she asked me to.

With a quick motion and a deafening groan, Rand buried himself in Kealy’s pussy up to his balls. He held himself deep inside her, watching her face. Her breath came hard, and she mumbled nonsense.

Then, she exploded into another orgasm, as Rand just held his dick deeply inside her. While she was coming, he began to pump her pussy, quickly following her with his own explosion. As soon as he did, he released her arms and she clawed at the smooth marble for purchase. They convulsed together while I continued stroking myself. Fuck, that was hot.

First chance I got, I scooped her up and carried her to Rand’s sofa. She burrowed her face in my shoulder as she came down from the good fucking we’d given her. I could have gone another round, but I didn’t want to completely wear her out. In seconds she was snoring lightly in my arms. Not gross snoring, but cute girl snoring.

* * *

Holding Kealy while she snoozed was a sweet antidote to the earlier part of my day.

I’d called my dad. It hadn’t gone well.

I don’t know why I kept trying. He was pissed at me for not following in his footsteps. Nothing new about that. Insulted, I guessed, that I didn’t want to be just like him. It wasn’t enough. I wanted to be myself.

I guess that was why Rand and I were so close. We both had strained relationships with our dads.

“Marlon, good to hear from you, son.” He was always cheerful at the beginning of the conversation, when he still had hope that his prodigal son was coming back to the flock.

“Dad, hi. How’s Mom?”

“She’s great. At the club right now, I think playing Bridge with the girls.”

“So, Dad. I wanted to talk to you about a business venture.” I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. Why did he have this effect on me? Shit, I was a grown man.

“Well, well! You know I love business ventures. I knew you had at least a bit of the family entrepreneur in you.”

“Yeah, well, I hope so. Dad, through the business I’m in right now, I meet a lot of smart, ambitious, and talented people.”

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