There's Freedom in Friendship

There's Freedom in Friendship

A bond between three

Chapter 1 by Wanderingfalcon Wanderingfalcon

Stacy idly thumbed through the comic book, sorry *graphic-novel*, trying to find where she had left off. When had she become such a nerd?! Bowing to Peter’s complaints on defining one picture book from another even inside her own head! Still, she had to admit, the storyline was pretty good. It explored a lot more interesting and explicit ideas than the sort of shit that was shovelled towards most girls her age these days… all blushing romance and no bloody pay off. Over the top of her book she also kept getting distracted by the flashing colours of the TV screen. Video games. Upside down from this angle, but still decipherable. Those too had been alien to her before she started to hang around with these two… Now she was indisputably better at most of them than either of the boys she called best friends. Somehow they had not only rubbed off on her, but brought out a whole new set of skills and interests she’d never thought she'd have… Just what had changed inside her since meeting them?

She grunted, most unladylike, as a wave of pleasure rolled down through her. Sliding her along the carpet a little way and, as always, accompanied by a rhythmic squelching. Well, That might have SOMETHING to do with it she supposed... As whichever one of them was currently inside of her tried to drag her hips back up to him one-handed, desperate not to lose track of the game either. It was Mark, his floppy blonde hair dancing a little as he tried to regulate his thrusts. Stacy loved to watch as their faces changed, always so determined to last as long as possible when fucking her. Maintaining the illusion that they were such experienced and mature men-about-town that having their own personal fuck-toy was just natural. Till it all broke down of course, and the pure pleasure of invading her drove them into a panting frenzy of climax. For her own part, she really WAS better at pretending it was all just old hat to her now. Heck, they'd stretched out all her holes enough by now she'd bet her insides were shaped to their specific cocks like a glove. What she would never admit to them though; was how empty she felt when neither WAS using her these days. It was a lonely feeling. A cold breeze through the heart… and legs.

Suddenly, and with a groan, she felt Mark pull out of her and flop his throbbing member onto her outer folds. Stacy only just managed to quickly lift the book away before she felt the hot splash of semen upon her chest, just where it might have been. It wouldn't have been the first casualty of their sticky excesses. Hell she'd had to take to only wearing blouses she could quickly pop open and skirts she could walk out of: in order to limit the amount of time she spent walking round with obvious stains across her… everything. Though, she had to admit, there was a little part of her that took twisted pride in wearing such sordid badges. She’d had to tell a sweet old lady at the park once that she’d just been terribly clumsy with an ice cream.

Talking of older ladies, Mark’s mom appeared in the doorway, just in time to see her son wiping the tip of his penis clean using his young friend’s hair. The 30-something shared her boy’s golden curls and nigh-constant, laidback smile. A hippy remnant of the bygone age. She frowned now though, the nearest hint of sighing disapproval you ever got from the woman...

“Oh Mark! You shouldn't use the poor girl's hair like that! I know you three are at a very important stage of exploration with each other, but you'll knot all Stacy’s pretty locks together…”

“But, Moooom. She loves it when we mess her up! Y’know, make all her hair stand on end and cum dribble all down her chin… Don’tcha Stace?”

They both looked at the girl expectantly. She couldn't help but be honest.

“I… kinda do, Ms. Jay… It makes me feel all dirty… in a good way… Like that's who I really am, under all the makeup and stuff…” Playing to the woman’s ‘natural beauty’ obsession was a good decision.

“Well… I suppose that’s okay then… you kids play a little rough if you want to… But mind my words, the instant this lovely dear says stop, you’d better well listen okay?! ...and try not to draw too much attention lovey… I’d hate to think of you getting in trouble just for these harmless little games of yours.”

Stacy watched the woman disappear again, back down the hall. It still amazed her every day: how ambivalent the middle-aged daydreamer was to their activities. She tried to imagine her own mother finding out about all this, not to mention regularly seeing it. All she came up with was a white hot wall of rage and disgust. But Ms. Jay would quite happily chatter the day away with her, asking about school and her hobbies; all while one, t’other or both the boys were pounding away inside her. In fact she half got the impression the older female was slightly jealous, finding excuses to watch them while drifting into nostalgia of an own youth spent on her back.

To be quite honest, even Stacy was not quite sure how they had got to this point: as Mark shuffled himself free of her and Peter automatically sidled in, neither taking their eyes off the screen for a second. Fucking her was as inherent to their day as breathing now, but their endless jostling for virtual supremacy took CONCENTRATION. She giggled to herself at the thought of their mixed priorities… Once they both would have been so pent up over the thought of even SEEING a half-naked girl spread her legs for them. Now they were far more obsessed with trying to beat her high scores... and holding back the urge to cum in her again before her own fifth or sixth orgasm of the day. She put down the book for the moment, enjoying the changing sensations of one of her personal meat-sticks switching out for the other, and let herself reminisce over their first stumbling footsteps down this path.

A bond in beginning

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