Screw Him (3)

Part Three

My boobs sprang to life, enjoying the fresh air as Brenda and Suzie removed the tape binding them. 

“Brenda and Mike-come-Michelle,” Suzie chirped. “Such a lovely pair. I think in this particular case my husband deserves some special treatment. Would you object to a bit of oil with your wrestling?” Waiting for Brenda and me to greedily nod in agreement, Suzie continued. “I tried this once before on him. Slicked him up so he could play like he was a chained muscle man. You know, like in those Italian Hercules movies. Then I jumped on his bone and screwed him senseless.” 

Our excited expressions became much more animated, and soon Eddie was besieged by three naked females descending the stairs. He didn't see us. Hadn't moved much, but was rolled over pretending his escape by slowly slithering on his belly. Too weak to stand and run. 

Suzie commanded, “Seize him!” and we made a dash for his ankles, grabbed and held them while he clawed at the mat trying to get away. “Now, turn him over and rack him.” 

A stretch rack -- not a kick-in-the-groin rack. Brenda grasped his ankles and I his wrists. We rolled him, pulled his limbs in opposite directions while kneeling at opposite ends of him, and awaited Suzie's next move. 

With a handful of towels and bottle of oil, Suzie dropped her buttocks onto his stomach and spoke sweetly. “Eddie, darling, I appreciate your gesture, but Brenda and I won't be available. We have a play to attend here in town Saturday night, and wouldn't miss it for the world. Perhaps you and Michelle can get tickets and join us. Doesn't that sound like fun?”

Finally, Eddie opened his eyes. My boobs hovering above his face brought an instant reaction. "Holy crap! Mike's a..  uh..." 

"Mike is a Michelle," his wife finished his sentence for him. 

"Hello, Eddie," I reintroduced myself with a smirk on my face and a wiggle of my boobies. "It's a brand new pleasure to meet you." 

Eddie's laughter was so raucous, his jiggling belly bounced Suzie up and down with it. 

"So, Eddie," his wife got him back on subject. "Wouldn't you prefer to cancel your NYC weekend and come to the local play with Brenda and me?"

"No, no, no," he guffawed, looking at his wife, and then again at me. "You two go on ahead. Mike... er, Michelle and I will go to New York and fornicate in the hotel room." 

“Very funny, smart guy.” Suzie flipped open the bottle, turned her head and spoke to Brenda. “Get rid of that jock strap.” While Brenda stripped him, Suzie slathered his chest with oil. 

He watched her a few seconds, recognized the play and got into character. “Evil woman, what are you doing to me?” 

Her right hand spread the oil while her left tipped the bottle, adding more. “We're going to work you over good, mister. Punish you until you change your mind. When we're finished with you, you will gladly accompany us to our theater.” 

“Ha! Do your worst,” he scoffed, hamming it up as any bound bodybuilder-trying-to-be-a-serious-actor would. “You will never break me down.” 

“May be, but we will wear you out.” With that, she raised off of him, dried her hands and moved to his feet. Clasping his ankles, she nodded to me. “Now, stretch him.” We pulled him in opposite directions. “Brenda, take him. He's all yours.”

My Brenda flipped the bottle lid, stood straddling his flanks so he could see her, dripped oil first onto his belly and then all over her breasts. After a giant squirt between them, she dropped the bottle and erotically slicked her front side, fondling her breasts, fiddling with her nipples, catching tributaries running down her stomach and painting herself a glossy sheen. 

Between her legs, I spotted Eddie's penis. A glorious tool, fully rigid and bouncing on his belly. Like the rest of him, Eddie's cock was a solid build, thick and powerful, nearly two inches of diameter and six of length, with a gigantic helmet. The rim of his corona surely surpassed two inches around, and in its surging excitement its flesh pulsated a bold color of purplish-red.

“Oh, you pitiful, tortured man,” Brenda moaned, dropping to her knees and covering him chest to chest. Her oil-slicked titties slithered along his stretched pectorals and greasy fur. “Why do you make us punish you this way?” She smothered his mouth before he could answer, her jaw wide open, her tongue invading his throat, while at their middle her spread-apart labia wedged his hard penis between her walls. Her juices flowing, she lubricated his peter, thrusting her pelvis to and fro and gliding her hot vagina the length of his throbbing cock. 

She slid her greasy hands under his shoulders. Squeezed her breasts against him while smothering him with kisses. Their chests made squishing sounds, mouths made slurping sounds, as her pelvic undulations manipulated his cock head to target her clitoris. 

“Oh,” she moaned upon feeling his power.

“Ugh,” he grunted as she took him deeper. Raising off of him, she straddled him with her knees, her upper torso vertical, and slowly impaled herself with his mighty tool. 

“What will you do now, tough guy?” I asked Eddie while gazing into the ecstatic eyes of my Brenda. Peering around her, I saw Suzie lay on her side atop his shins, pinning his legs as her fingers deep-massaged his manly, fur-topped feet. 

I continued my taunting. “Here you are. Stripped of everything.” I let go his wrists, replacing my hands with my shins to pin him while kneeling. “Stretched on the rack.” My twat hovered above his face. “It's three against one. No escape. You are completely at our mercy. How will you survive it?”

He couldn't answer because my dripping vagina covered his mouth. Drowned, stretched and screwed, our tortured hero invaded me with his tongue. Found my clittie and attacked, while Brenda punished his penis with her crunching, vaginal muscles. Inside her wet velvet she enveloped him, clipping her little peter against his massive, hammer-head corona. My hands assaulted his oiled chest; Brenda's his flattened belly; Suzie his writhing feet. Our man took what was given him, and we used him to satisfy ourselves. With my weight I bore down on him, my taint pressing his nose, my vagina smothering his mouth. His talented tongue brutalized my clitoris with wet scraping. Brenda brutalized herself with his fat, juicy cock, bumping her clittie with his helmet, crushing his diameter with her vaginal muscles. Increasing the pace of her ride up and down his glorious pole, her eyes glazed, and knowing her time was near, I leaned forward so I could put my hands on her breasts. Stimulated her nipples with my thumbs while she bounced on him, her claws digging into his belly for leverage. She screamed at him. Her ecstatic howls of orgasm echoed the room, and I removed my twat from his mouth so he could breathe, so he could elevate his hips and properly finish her while I cradled his head and peppered his face with kisses. 

“Eddie, Eddie,” I whispered. “You beautiful, beautiful man.” 

“That doesn't begin to describe it,” Brenda collapsed atop him, smearing her face with his oiled chest. “More like a masterpiece.” 

“Ain't I lucky, gals?” Suzie left his feet and joined us, laying on her side to his left with me doing the same on his right. 

Brenda slid down and used his belly for her pillow so Suzie and I could hand rub his chest while kissing his face. 

Surely, this must be every man's dream. Three naked women fawning over him, and Eddie did bask in our affection as long as he could before announcing, “Dear ladies, you know I feel the same about you. I am truly one lucky S.O.B. I'd love to stay here forever, but I've got two problems.” 

“Go ahead,” Suzie prodded. “We're listening.” 

“Number one, my back is as stiff as my pecker.” 

“That's understandable,” I sympathized.

“And the second?” Brenda wondered. 

“I've gotta piss.” 

Men! So vulgar. So crude, and we would have this man no other way. 

“All right,” his wife gave permission. “Let him go, girls, so he can admire himself in front of the mirror.” 

“Can we watch?” I asked. “You don't have a nervous bladder, do you, Eddie?”

“No, right now I've got a bladder that's about to burst.” 

We raised off of him, grabbed his arms and helped him sit up. “Allow your new girlfriends to escort you,” Brenda offered, as she and I held his hands and walked him to the bathroom. Rubbed his chest and kissed on him while he shot a long stream into the toilet, and then we followed him to the sink and kissed him some more while he washed his hands. 

We took turns complimenting him, Brenda going first. “Eddie, what you did is amazing. The weekend trip, I mean, do you have any idea how happy you've made her?” 

“And us. Why did you include us? We should reimburse you. This trip must have cost you an arm and a leg. Especially with no discounts for advance purchase.”

Brenda backed me up. “Yes, we will reimburse you. Or at least go half. Surely you'll let us...”

“Good grief, you two,” he pulled away from us, grabbing a towel and drying his hands. “Stop already. I used Travelogue-go and got the best prices I could find. As for the theater, they're probably crappy seats. Two are in the first balcony. Two are left center near the back, and yes, they cost a pretty penny, but who gives a shit? I'm getting my reward, ain't I? Both of you make us happy. It's not easy finding good friends like you. People we can trust. People Suzie and I are comfortable with, people we enjoy...”

“Good grief, Eddie,” I admonished him, teasingly thrusting my fist toward his stomach, just like old times when he wasn't sure if I was male or female but didn't care. “Stop already. We get it. We feel the same about you and Suzie. So, shut up and let us give you more of that reward you've earned.” 

We returned to find Suzie had made all preparations. A giant pool of baby oil awaited Eddie, as we stepped onto the mat and wallowed in the slime. With our hands we saturated one another, every part, from the hair of our heads to the nails of our toes, with Eddie getting most of the attention. We laid him on his belly. Our thirty fingertips dug into his muscles, removing knots from his neck, shoulders and shoulder blades, his back, his buttocks, his thighs and calves and soles of his feet. We turned him over. Kneaded like bread dough his pectorals and abdominals and tops of his thighs, and before long we molested him. Our breasts and bellies writhed all over him, while fingers massaged his testicles and stroked his penis. Eddie reciprocated, rolling onto his side and grabbing any part of any woman within his reach. Like a nest of serpents, we coiled and writhed atop and beneath one another, paying no mind to whom or what we were touching. 

Oiled flesh is sexy. Instigates a savage kind of ecstasy. An orgy of mutual praise. A glorification of the human form. A frenzy of lust, but when I felt as though on the verge of orgasm simply from burying my slimy face into glowing female breasts and hairy male chest and undulating bellies and saturated crotches, I wanted him in the most mundane manner possible. I wanted Eddie traditional-style. Vanilla. A big, strong man and his hard, slick muscles laying on top of me. 

It is what I asked for. It is exactly what I got. He enveloped me in his arms, smashed my breasts beneath his manly fur. His oil-drenched chest hairs scraped my nipples, as he thrust to and fro, gently sliding his penis into my welcoming vagina. 

He is an artist. A hypnotist. A masterpiece who magically pivots his hips, twists and turns left and right to stimulate me from every possible angle. He is a lover. A Romeo. A Don Juan who presses his mouth to mine, slips his tongue inside to mesmerize me with his juxtaposition of brute, masculine strength versus gentle, thoughtful romance. He is what every man should be. He is what I aspire to be, for myself, and for Brenda. 

He is alive inside me. Nothing can replace the male penis. Strap-ons are merely functional. They have no heartbeat. They have no soul, and their size changes nothing. Eddie responded to me. His cock targeted me as only a living, feeling, ecstasy-inducing master-work of masculinity can, and as his two admirers spurred him on with massaging hands to his back and buttocks and legs and feet, my beautiful Eddie brought me an orgasm never before experienced. The heights of my pleasure caused me to wrap him in my arms and squeeze with all my might. My oil-slicked body gyrated beneath him. I thrust upward my pelvis to meet him, to take every micro-inch of his penis into me. I wanted connection with him. I needed to meld with him. The ultimate man was mine, and until he sacrificed to me a smattering of his gift I would not let go. A minuscule sample, that's all I wanted. An infusion of his strength, his manliness, his thoughtfulness, his love for his woman, his appreciation for me and my woman. He would give it and I would take it. Absorb it. Cherish it forever. 

Good God Almighty, he is one beautiful hunk of man. 

My, my, but we were the most charming of couples on our whirlwind, New York weekend. I resumed my public butch with my strapped-down breasts. Nobody outside our circle of four knew the difference between Mike and Michelle, but back in our Marriott hotel room it was Eddie and his three concubines. His harem of females worshiping him to exhaustion. No oil. We dared not saturate their beautiful bedding. 

Of course, Brenda and Suzie frothed over the production of Kinky Boots. Even Eddie and I had to admit the show was well-worth the high price of admission, and Eddie still considers it one of the best investments he's ever made. 

As for our Thursday nights, their mat will soon need to be replaced. Seems to be developing wrinkles for some reason. Don't know if baby oil could be the culprit, but I do know it will be many a year before we run out of scenarios with which to praise our Eddie. Our pitiful, tortured hero. Our masculine marvel, and the best guy any gal could ever hope to know. 


The End