“If you suck me, then you’ll have to kiss Kristen afterward and share it with her.”
I winced as I considered Marla’s reaction.
“Sounds kinky,” Marla said.
I breathed a sigh of relief as Marla repositioned herself. She sucked me tenderly, and I was immediately taken back to that one summer day underneath the shade of a willow tree as Marla sucked me for the first time.
There were warm lips on mine as Marla continued sucking. Kristen gave me one of her great erection special kisses and I felt myself grow within Marla’s mouth. With the double stimulation, it didn’t take very long for me to go off.
Kristen knew my condition by the way I was starting to suck her tongue into my mouth greedily. Marla noticed my cock’s twitching in anticipation and she started a stronger suction. I erupted into Marla’s mouth, blasting off inside it. It wasn’t so much Marla’s sucking, but I think it was the closeness I felt with Kristen kissing me that really set me off. Of course, I’d only admit that privately to Kristen.
When I was spent, Marla brought her head up and saw Kristen break her kiss with me. She opened her eyes wide, as if asking a question, and Kristen moved over to her and kissed her. I heard Marla moan as she did so, not minding that her breasts and Kristen’s were touching.
When the two broke their kiss, Marla was blushing. I thought she looked so cute that I moved over and kissed her myself, surprising her as my tongue entered her mouth and tasted the little seed that Kristen left her.
I then moved over and kissed my lovely blonde Goddess. I kept my eyes open as Kristen shared some of my own semen with me. Marla inhaled suddenly as she saw Kristen finally swallow the semen that she deposited in Kristen’s mouth as the two of us kissed.
“Wow,” Marla breathed.
“That was wonderful,” I said to Marla, thanking her for the blow job, remembering the guilt that I felt a year ago when I didn’t even thank her.
“How do you do it?” Marla asked.
Kristen convulsed on the bed in laughter, making me join her. Kristen has heard June ask that same question to me over and over again in the same curious way, sounding almost as if she were a little kid the way she asked the question.
“Oogie Story number four,” Kristen said, and Marla started laughing as well.
When the three of us got out of our room, we found that Lynette and June were already up and they started breakfast. I didn’t have any classes until that afternoon, and June had the entire day free. Lynette and Kristen had a class at 11:00.
Lynette and June acted as our servants for breakfast, and brought out plates of blueberry pancakes made with wild blueberries that Kristen’s mother imported from a place in northern Maine for her daughter. Each stack of pancakes had some thick homemade blueberry sauce and whipped cream on top of them. The stacks looked as if they came from a gourmet restaurant that specialized in such breakfasts.
“Who made these?” I asked.
June raised her hand timidly. “My mom… Ass Whore… taught me how to cook. She used to work as a cook at a hotel.”
“These look wonderful. Did you make enough for Lyn… Pussy Slave and you?”
“Yes. We’re eating in the kitchen,” June said.
“Nonsense,” I said. “Join us. This is a meal fit for a king, and I’d be honored to share the table with its creators!”
June’s cheeks dimpled when I said that. She bounded into the kitchen to retrieve her plate. Lynette looked at Kristen, who nodded her permission for her to eat with us as well.
I have long noticed that Lynette only did things at Kristen’s command or with Kristen’s tacit permission, and this was a good example. Despite the fact that she was supposed to obey my orders, she usually looked to Kristen for confirmation before following them. It was obvious to me where Lynette’s loyalties were. June, on the other hand, wasn’t as fixated on me, although I occasionally saw her looking at me with those “puppy dog eyes” that June once described Kristen as having when Kristen looked at me.
“Pussy Slave and I have class in two hours,” Kristen announced. “What will the three of you do until Jim’s class at 2:30?”
June and Marla looked at me.
I shrugged.
June gave an evil smirk. “I don’t know. How much hot water do we have in the shower?”
Kristen and June laughed at that. Thanks to that damned communal shower that Kristen installed in our apartment, I think that I was the most-washed male in the state.
I had a feeling that some music, some pool, and a shower might be in the cards today.
After breakfast, I insisted on cleaning up while Kristen and Lynette got dressed for class. They left at 10:30, and both of them gave Marla a deep kiss.
Our first stop after Kristen and Lynette left was the music studio.
Marla told June about my serenading her the previous night, and June told her about our “nasty” session in the practice room at school.
“Ooh,” Marla said. “Another Oogie Story!”
“Girls, can you please avoid telling those stories in front of me?” I asked.
“Why not?” Marla asked.
“I’m not sure I react to them the same way you do.”
“I’d be surprised if you wet your panties hearing them, Jim,” June said, giggling.
I gave June a look that would have wilted a rain forest. June cast her eyes down as I did that, and I was immediately sorry. I pulled June into my arms and said, “I’m sorry, June.”
Marla watched June and I hug, her mouth opened wide.
“Fuck! If I didn’t know that Kristen was your one true love…”
June giggled, but when I looked at her, I saw tears in her eyes. “What’s the matter, little girl?” I asked, softly.
June didn’t answer, but sighed against me.
As if they were on cue, the two girls said at the exact same moment, “How do you do it?”
June was sitting happily on my lap, my penis between her legs. Marla was happily licking my erect penis. The original idea was June’s, who wanted to be the one that blew me, but I knew how drained I’d be if I were the recipient of one of June’s colossal blow jobs.
Somehow, I think that June anticipated my reaction and simply got her way.
“Mr. Bojangles, please,” June requested.
Unlike Pussy Slave, Cunt Whore had no problem making requests.
I played the song, singing it exactly the same way I did that day in the practice room with June.
About halfway through the song, Marla’s ministrations on my cock ceased. She looked up at me, and once again, her mouth was open, agape.
After I finished the song, June kissed me.
“Are you really that good?” Marla asked.
“Huh?” June asked.
“Jim… does he really play like that?”
I nodded, and June smiled at Marla. “I used to think that Archy was the most awesome trumpet player. He used to play for me, occasionally. Jim, here, is like Doc Severinsen.”
“I don’t play like him,” I corrected June.
“Archy said you put his uncle to shame, and he worships his uncle’s memory!” June exclaimed.
I shook my head. “Archy is much better…”
“You see?” June said to Marla, who nodded in response.
“Is there another song you want?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.
“Lady Madonna,” Marla said.
I glared at Marla. I knew that her choice wasn’t random. I shrugged, and belted out the song, trying my best to sound as good as Paul McCartney.