Swing for the fences – try to take them both home to Mo.

Over White Russians

“I got ‘em both,” you assure the group. “No worries.”

There’s a hesitation, then a ghost of a smile, and then they’re gone. “You kids have fun,” someone calls.

“Um, both…?” Ingrid asks. “Are you sure?”

“It’s no trouble. Avery and I are neighbors, so it’s not like she adds anything to the trip.”

Avery arches a thin yellow eyebrow. “Ingrid lives on the other side of town.”

The longer the discussion drags on, the better the odds somebody’s going to dash off and try to catch a ride from one of their friends. You start for your car, leaving them little choice but to follow. “Not a problem. Got half a tank, at least. Plenty to go wherever we wanna go.”

To your relief, after a brief pause, the ladies fall in line. The clacking of their shoes echoes around the parking garage as you make your way back to your car. Avery takes shotgun; Ingrid pours her curves into the back seat.

It’s the redhead in the back who starts up the small talk on your way out of the garage – how much she’d like the music, how it felt good to get to use her muscles for something other than vacuuming the floors of Monarch – but as you reach the exit, it’s time to push the envelope. You’ve got two women in the car. One with the eyes of a hungry jungle cat, the other a hunk of meat dangling on a string. You’re not an inexperienced hunter; a predator or a trap, you can handle either. Both, though… This is going to take some finesse.

“Am I the only one who’s not the least bit tired yet?” you ask the car.

“Hell yes. Drinking, dancing… only gets my blood pumping faster,” Avery concurs.

“Um, I guess I’m sort of awake still,” Ingrid echoes. “I work evenings, so my sleep schedule is all kinds of weird. I usually don’t go to bed until like six or seven in the morning.”

“Hey then, all nighter it is.” You lean out the window, pay the parking fee, and leave the garage. “I got plenty to drink back at my place, and I don’t want to brag, but I have one hell of a dog there, too.”

“Puppies?” Ingrid breaks out in smiles. “I love puppies!”

“What kind of dog?”

“You’ll see.”

There’s a gradually rising tension in the car as you make for your house. Ingrid gives up on chit chat once the radio comes on. Avery looks out the window, her reflection in the glass inscrutable. Nobody is unaware that the three of you are all headed for one house with a promise of drinks and late night fun. Two in the car, and that’s an obvious code for sex. Three in the car…? You’re not sure. Maybe none of you are. You’ve never gone for anything this ambitious before.

“This is such a pretty neighborhood,” Ingrid comments as you near your pad.

Avery snorts. “The taxes out here are a bitch. Straddles the township line, so you’re paying county and city in the worst combinations.”

You pat her bared knee, taking her back a notch. “It is pretty, Ingrid. Maybe we need to let our inner accountant have the night off?”

She glances at your hand, but doesn’t object, a thin smile blooming on her lips. “Maybe.”

You pull into your garage, hoping you left the house in presentable condition. Bachelorhood has been a little too easy for a while. You lead the trio in, though, and Mo immediately leaps excitedly at your visitors, yapping and wagging ferociously, his front legs flapping as a compromise between his instinct to kick at them like wild horses and his training to be a polite member of canine society. Ingrid drops to her knees immediately, showering him with pets and kisses, and even Avery watches their interactions with simple bemusement. It’s enough of a distraction to sweep a few dishes into the dishwasher, drag a sponge across the counter, and deem it sufficient.

“Somebody said something about drinks?” Avery prompts as Ingrid allows Mo to shepherd her toward the living room. He nudges her onto the couch and proceeds to climb right up in her delighted face.

“I sure did. White Russians?”

“Norwegian, actually,” Ingrid says between nuzzles at Mo’s delighted snout. Avery shakes her head and shoos you into the kitchen. You’re midway through the mixing process when she joins you.

“How about you? I’m guessing… Swedish?” you quip softly lest Ingrid overhear.

“Blonde hair give me away? Or was it the way I look in a bikini?”

“I haven’t had the pleasure yet. Thought I remembered you saying something about your love of meatballs.”

Avery leans against the counter at your side, not quite in your way but impossible to continue without brushing against her bare arm. “I like all sorts of balls,” she says in a seductive voice.

To your relief, she bursts into laughter at the same time you do. “OK, now that was one hell of a line. ‘I love balls,’” you repeat, imitating her smoky tone.

Avery only laughs and bumps your hip with hers. “Oh shut up. Can’t blame a woman for wanting to get the… shit, I was gonna say ‘ball rolling,’ but I’m not sure you’re mature enough to hear me say the word ‘ball’ again without spilling the kahlua.”

“Rolling where?” you ask innocently. “I’m just a simple IT security consultant, treating some friends to a couple drinks. That’s all.”

“Yeah?” Avery hefts the vodka bottle, puts it up to her lips and takes a long pull. “Because if I didn’t know better, I’d swear you thought you were some Don Juan gunning for a threesome.”

The word is suddenly in the open. Threesome. No doubt everybody had been thinking it, but now that it’s a topic of conversation…

“Who, me? I figured that was what _you _were after. I was only trying to do you a solid, Avery, honest.”

“You’re lucky I like funny guys, Will.” She takes another sip, setting down the bottle and dabbing her lips with a nearby hand towel. “Luckier that I’m horny as fuck.”

Fuck. A contagious statement if ever there was one. “Yeah?”

Avery grabs your tie and pulls you toward her lips. Your eyes close instinctively, your lips part in anticipation. The kiss doesn’t come, though. Instead, you’re suddenly aware of your zipper being lowered, and as your eyes flutter back open, there’s a hand slipping inside them, taking gentle – but not _that _gentle – hold of your gear. Avery’s silken hand massages her findings possessively, and then she’s pulling you by the tie past her face until her lips are in your ear.

“Balls,” she whispers.

“Hey, what’re you guys laughing about?” Ingrid asks as she responds to the fresh peals of laughter from the kitchen. Mo is at her heels, sniffing curiously at her shin until deciding on a single tiny lick to the back of her knee.

“Nothing, nothing. You, ah, had to be there,” you assure her. You do up your fly as casually as you can before turning to face the newcomer.

“I adore your puppy, by the way,” she gushes, once more crouching beside him. Somehow, the ease with which you can see up her skirt is less distracting after having another woman’s hand on your junk. “What’s his name?”

“We call him Mo, for short.”

“Mo?” To the dog’s glee, she scrunches up his face and then lets the loose skin flap back into place. “What’s it short for? Mo-narch?”

Is it? That would make sense, considering. Probably is. But that’s not what you say. “Heh. Nah, it’s Quasimodo. You know, the Hunchback of Notre Dame?”

“I love that movie! Almost as much as I love this little guy. Are you a hunchback? Who’s an iddle widdle hunchback? Is it oo? It’s oo, isn’t it.” Mo writhes ecstatically into a hug. Avery, meanwhile, rolls her eyes and takes up her drink, downing it in a go.

Once you make a refill for Avery, the three of you retire to the living room where you turn on some music.

“Not jazz saxophone?” Avery observes with a slight grin.

If the car ride over was thick with tension, the situation in the living would need a sledgehammer to break it. Ingrid continues entertaining Mo with mounting awkwardness while Avery puts down drinks. Nobody speaks. At least, not until Ingrid excuses herself to the restroom.

“Do you not have any plan for this?” Avery inquires. “What, you thought you’d just invite two women back to your place, pour drinks, and our panties would magically melt off our bodies?”

“Believe it or not, this isn’t the sort of thing I make a habit of.”

“No excuse. Shit, Will, I think I made it pretty damn obvious back at the club that I would sleep with you. Ingrid made it pretty sure she’d sleep with anybody who paid her a compliment. Shit, I think the dog might’ve gotten her off twice since we’ve been here. But no, you had to get greedy on us, and now you’re clamming up.”

“Somehow ‘hey, wanna have a threesome’ seemed a little bit blunt for a sweet girl like Ingrid. I’m open to suggestions.”

“You’re right. Just sit back, sip your White Russian, and let Mo handle the seduction. Any second now, her legs will fly open.”

“This really isn’t helping, you know!”

“It’s my job to help you fuck me and my friend?”

The door down the hall swings open, and Ingrid steps out into the hallway. To your surprise, most of her clothes don’t exit the restroom with her. Her skirt and hose are absent, and of her two top garments only the blouse, unbutton nearly to her navel remains, hanging down just past the underwear you glimpsed in the kitchen. Her red hair is up in a ponytail now, high and thick. As the shock registers on your face, Avery swivels to follow your gaze, her drink tumbling from her hand.

“So, um, are we gonna do this, you guys? I’m not trying to rush anybody or anything, but I wanna make sure I’m home in time to feed Lady.”

“Oh. Um, yeah. Can’t keep Lady waiting.” You take to your feet, pausing beside Avery. “You in?”

“Meatballs.” She takes your hand, letting you help her to her feet.

Ingrid intuits the route to your bedroom. You remember at the last moment to close the door behind you before Mo does like he did once with your old girlfriend and slurps her asshole while she’s going down on you. Bit of a mood killer. He gives a little whine at being shut out.

Ingrid takes a moment to admire a picture of you and Mo as a puppy that you keep on your dresser, then sets herself down on the edge of your bed. “So did you have a plan or anything, Will?”

“A plan? No, I am definitely making this up as I go along territory.”

She nods. “Sure. Guess none of us saw this coming, huh? So I thought, maybe, since I’m super horny, and I can tell you’re super horny, Aves, maybe we could help Will get in the mood by playing with each other a little bit while he watches?”

The accountant arches an eyebrow, but then turns to look at you. Ingrid watches you. After a moment, you realize you forgot to respond, clearing your throat past a lump the size of a tennis ball. “Ahem. Um, didn’t I say yes? I thought I said yes. By all means.”

Ingrid smiles as Avery gamely closes on her, sidling up between the redhead’s parted legs. “You’re so beautiful, Avery. I want to see the rest of you.”

“About fucking time, baby girl.” Avery pivots in her friend’s light grasp. Once her back is to her, Ingrid slowly eases the zipper of Avery’s dress down her back. Black underwear comes into view, and more of it once the zipper reaches the bottom. Pale hands make their way into the breach, slipping the garment off Avery’s shoulders. Her hips are too broad for it to simply slide all the way off on its own, but she helpfully shimmies out of it, her bottom swaying until it’s pooled down at her feet.

The women kiss. It’s a hungry kiss, but the glances in your direction are a reminder that it’s also theater, erotic theater for an audience of one. Avery soon has her redheaded companion pinned to the bed where she jerks her partner’s blouse wide open. At least one button flies off, bouncing off the wall and into the darkness. Beneath it is a red bra, though less so than its wearer’s hair, struggling with the enormity of its task.

The kissing continues, four heavenly breasts swaying against each other as they roll around exchanging top and bottom. As Avery’s slinky black panties creep further and further between her cheeks thanks to Ingrid’s fervent explorations, she finally removes them altogether, tossing them across the room such that they land directly on your face. The scent of her arousal is thick on them. She soon turns her attention on her playmate’s, but Ingrid seizes her hand firmly and says in a dusky tone, “No. That’s for Will.”

Avery smirks over her shoulder at you. “Then I guess he better get over here, hadn’t he, or we’re gonna find out which one of us has the stronger wrists.”

As you come at your bed, Ingrid rolls to her feet and stops you just short of it. “Can we help you with your clothes, Will?”

“Be my guest, ladies.”

The two of them work together with remarkable coordination considering the lack of rehearsal. Avery undoes your tie while Ingrid kneels to get off your socks, then the both of them tackle your shirt buttons, Avery from the top down and Ingrid bottom up until they meet in the middle, fingernails grazing your bare chest as they peel it off of you. Then the two kneel before you, one on your belt and the other with her second foray into your zipper, slipping your pants down to your ankles. Your underwear follows.

“Looks like somebody liked our little show, baby girl.” Avery eyes your throbbing erection appreciatively.

“I liked it too, Avery. You’re so lovely.”

“Would you like it if we sucked your cock, Will?” Ingrid’s eyes remain on yours even as her chin lowers bashfully. “I don’t mean to be so greedy, but it looks so good, and so big…”

“Offering up my mouth too, are you?”

“Please, Ingrid,” you interject before Avery’s spirited nature can disrupt the offer. As for Ingrid, she doesn’t need to be invited twice. Her hand firmly takes grip around the base of your cock and aims it towards her opening mouth. You feel, though don’t quite hear, a purr of contentment as she tastes you rumbling through her lips. A wet shlurp issues as she lets you slide out from between her lips. Then after a few licks around the head of your cock, she’s back on it, easing herself lower and lower with each determined bob until you can feel the resistance at the entrance to her throat.

Avery watches quizzically, but as you remember your threesome is presently a twosome, you beckon to her. “Balls, Avery?”

After a moment, she seems to opt for amusement and rewards your attempt at humor with compliance. Crawling around behind you, the busty blonde positions herself behind you, nearly under you, and begins lapping at your sack. Oddly, it reminds you of your first one-on-one meeting and the lick she gave your hand: needful, unexpected but most welcome. She takes turns working your testicles in her mouth one after the other, swirling them with her tongue, as Ingrid feasts on the main course. As you take hold of her ponytail, her pace falls immediately in line with your guidance, and you can’t help but suspect that it’s the reason she did her hair up as such to begin with, as a handle with which to fuck her beautiful face.

It’s time to come. You want this to go on all night, but it’s too much for any man to endure. Feeling the tremors beginning in your sack, Avery rejoins Ingrid before you, the two of them licking and slurping along your cock, sharing amicably yet pursuing greedily. Some heretofore unknown instinct impels you to pull back at the last moment; Ingrid senses your intent and strokes your shaft double-fisted, feverish, until you unload on the blonde’s pretty face. Avery holds still, letting you paint her visage with your cum.

As you slump back against the dresser, catching your breath, Ingrid once more kisses her friend, then begins licking your cum off her face blob by blob. “You are such a little freak, Ingrid. Who would’ve thought?” Ingrid snickers between slurps.

“You don’t like it?”

“Oh don’t let me hold you up.”

Ingrid drags her tongue along Avery’s cheek, leaving a glistening line where a pearlescent glob sat in the previous moment. “Do you like it, Will?”

“You’re fucking incredible. Both of you. You’re so goddamn sexy I can hardly believe this is happening.”

Flattery seems to work, both of them smiling up at you. You offer each a hand, helping them to their feet, though it’s a momentary position before the two of them jointly spin you around and throw you onto your bed. Each climbs aboard one thigh, and suddenly there are two gorgeous faces in yours kissing your lips, your face, your neck, your ears, faster than you can keep track of who’s who. It’s dizzying, but in a way that suggests that balance is an overrated state.

“You ought to fuck her, Will,” says a voice. Whoever it is, nobody has ever been more right. You’re vaguely aware that the hair on the busty body beneath you is pale rather than scarlet, confirming the source of the generous suggestion as Ingrid. Ingrid, who takes a place beside you, heaving tits wrapped around your arm as Avery guides your tip toward her wet and waiting entrance.

“Gentle, big guy. That’s an awful lot of cock for little ol’ me, OK?”

“I’ll be gentle,” you assure you. And you are. You press into her inch by inch, each push taking it a bit deeper than the last. Her eyes squeeze shut, hands pawing at her breasts around her black bra as if trying to tear it off from the front.

“She looks so happy,” Ingrid whispers in your ear. “Do you think you could make me feel that happy?”

“Wait your turn, Ingrid. Just because you’re an amazing cocksucker doesn’t mean you get to cut in line.” You mean it playfully, but with her cheek on your shoulder, you can feel her nodding in acceptance of your rebuke. Her hands tease blindly across your chest and back while you drill the pretty blonde accountant.

Soon, gentle isn’t cutting it any more, and Avery flips herself onto her hands and knees, her shapely ass pointed at you entreatingly. “I need you deeper. Don’t hold back now. You go in all the fucking way, and you don’t slow down until I black the fuck out, understand?”

You don’t have to be told twice. Her cries fill the bedroom; you catch sound of a momentary whimper of confusion outside the bedroom door. Good old Mo, worried you’re abusing his new friends. His concern is not entirely misplaced, however; you saw your cock in and out of Avery’s tight wet tunnel like a lumberjack, like Paul goddamn Bunyan himself. Her arms give way, and soon she’s slumped down face first into your pillow, body trembling as it passively lays there and lets itself get fucked. Ingrid tentatively places a hand on the other woman’s ass, and soon is exploring it eagerly, squeezing and then lightly slapping it, Avery’s flesh jiggling mesmerizingly with each contact. It only spurs you onward, picking up the pace until suddenly her back arches, her fists grip your sheets and nearly unmake the bed as an orgasm thunders through her body. A few more moments and you’d be joining her, but there’s still more to be done.

You pull out, cock throbbing, practically purple with how swollen it feels. You’re as hard as you’ve ever been in your life. “Your time to shine, Ingrid.”

She claps her hands giddily. “I can’t wait!”

As Ingrid flops down on her back, Avery begins to remember who and where she is, looking around in dissipating confusion. “I… wow. Fucking mother fucking wow. I cannot believe you held out on me with all that these past weeks.”

You grant her a chuckle, but there’s still Ingrid to consider. Recognizing that a few moments break might help you cool off before making another go, you nod from Avery to her redheaded friend. “Why don’t you get her ready for me, eh?”

Avery arches an eyebrow as if to question your brazen suggestion, but Ingrid clutches her companion’s arm delightedly, exclaiming, “Oh god yes, that would be amazing. You don’t have to, but… sorry, I am such a sucker for having my pussy licked. Am I too excited? I don’t want to put anyone off their appetite.”

Avery shakes her head. “We’ve come this far; why not? C’mon, off with your panties, baby girl. Lemme see what I’m working with.”

Ingrid’s lips purse. “Do you… do you think you could just pull them to the side instead? I don’t know why, but there’s something so hot about being fucked with my panties still on. Like I’m just going through my day, and suddenly there’s a cock in me, and I don’t even have time to get ready for it, he’s just taking me and anything I do to slow him down is an imposition and then he just cums in my slutty little pussy and I can feel it dribbling into my panties, this reminder of what an easy–”

“All right, all right, Jesus, save it for Penthouse forums already,” Avery mumbles with a giggle. You hang back, observing as she plays along with the redhead’s kink, tugging her crimson underwear aside to expose a glistening wet snatch that confirms in an instant that yes, the carpet and drapes are sold as a set. For all her fussing, Avery isn’t the least bit squeamish about diving into that pussy tongue-first. She teases along the parting labia with slow, deliberate licks before giving in to Ingrid’s semi-coherent pleas for more. Soon the blonde is simply tongue-fucking her friend’s clit, stroking it so aggressively you’re almost nervous for her.

“She looks ready,” you observe. “Are you ready, Ingrid?”

“Um, I think–”

You weren’t waiting for permission, though. She’d already given you that and more. A cunt-full of determined cock cuts her off mid-consent. Unlike with Avery, you intuit that Ingrid is more than ready, and you’re inserted to the hilt in no time. Her back arches, tits rolling up out of their bra casing and bouncing up and down as you get to fucking her in earnest.

“Keep licking,” you direct Avery. She eyes you challengingly for a moment, but apparently decides she likes this side of you. Her mouth joins your dick at the entrance to Ingrid’s pussy. The race to climax proves no competition at all. This is a relay, after all, and you have a two on one advantage. Her initial screams of release are so sudden, so intense, that no sound comes out at all. Only a few moments later as you achieve your own orgasm inside her does it become audible to the human ear, and then, only as a series of helpless whimpers as you come and come inside her.

“Thank you for that,” Ingrid murmurs in your ear as she curls up beside you. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Top ten,” Avery adds as she takes her place on the other side, but you can tell she’s only teasing.

Ever the gentleman, you confirm that Lady and Miss Kittenpuss will be all right with their owners staying the night. With that thought in mind, you bid Ingrid to open the bedroom door, which turns out to be about the only excuse you could have mustered to pry her out of your bed in that moment. She’s back in the next, with a mollified Mo on her heels. He hops up and curls up at your feet, and you’re not sure whether it’s man, woman or dog who begins snoring first.

“So that was a pretty wild evening, wasn’t it?” asks Mo the following afternoon.

It’s a dream, however, a dream during a Sunday afternoon nap brought on by brief sleep following an exhausting evening. In your dream, it doesn’t faze you that Mo can talk. He could fly and it would be normal here. “It sure the heck was, buddy.”

“I’m proud of you. Was starting to think you’d never seal the deal with one of those Monarch hotties, and look at you, bringing home two in one night. Not bad at all.”

“Not how I imagined last night going, I gotta say, but I’m sure as heck not complaining.”

“So now that you have that under your belt, what’s your takeaway from it? What stands out to you in hindsight?”

You consider, letting yourself briefly relieve as much of the incredible previous evening as you can recall. It was one hell of a night.

“You know, all I can say is…”

Decision time! Voting takes place for patrons $10+ at https://www.patreon.com/icebear. Results will continue to be posted here for free, though, so no pressure. Your choices:

• It was overwhelming. I barely knew what to do with two women like that.
• It was too easy. What on earth did two gorgeous babes like that see in a guy like me?
• It was what I deserved. I played my hand just right, and I earned it.
• I need to see more of Avery. Beautiful, passionate, uninhibited… can’t get enough.
• I need to see more of Ingrid. Hot, sweet, ingratiating… yes please.
• I need to see what else is out there. Nothing like a night of unexpected bliss to make me realize I need to pursue more of it.