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Folding Herself In: A Friendly MFM Ménage Tale

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A double stag night needs a double surprise — and she’s going to give it to both of them!

Danny’s marrying Diana. Gil’s marrying Phoebe. Tomorrow.

A double wedding means a double bachelor party, and Danny and Gil are pleasantly buzzed and pleasantly surprised to have survived the stag night. They’re getting ready to stumble off to bed when one last unexpected guest shows up. It’s their quiet, brainy friend Ruth, who’s not so quiet, not very sober, and not completely dressed. She left Diana and Phoebe’s party because they wouldn’t let her play…. And so she’s decided she’s going to entertain the grooms-to-be in a manner that neither of them will ever forget! (MFM ménage à trois, anal sex, double penetration. Explicit language and scenes of sexuality between consenting adults)

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Description

A double stag night needs a double surprise — and she’s going to give it to both of them!

Danny’s marrying Diana. Gil’s marrying Phoebe. Tomorrow.

A double wedding means a double bachelor party, and Danny and Gil are pleasantly buzzed and pleasantly surprised to have survived the stag night. They’re getting ready to stumble off to bed when one last unexpected guest shows up. It’s their quiet, brainy friend Ruth, who’s not so quiet, not very sober, and not completely dressed. She left Diana and Phoebe’s party because they wouldn’t let her play….

And so she’s decided she’s going to entertain the grooms-to-be in a manner that neither of them will ever forget!

(MFM ménage à trois, anal sex, double penetration. Explicit language and scenes of sexuality between consenting adults)

Additional information

author

K. D. West

format

ebook (ePub 2), ebook (mobi/Kindle), ebook (PDF), ebook bundle

Preview

Three more thunks thudded against the door.

Resenting having to budge from his comfy chair, Danny groaned his way to his feet and shuffled over to the door. “Fine, fine,” he grumbled, reaching out to the nob.

Opening the door, he expected to find Gary and Jerry, drunk out of their skulls. Or perhaps Scotty held up by Tom and Liam.

What he didn’t expect to find was Ruth Thorson, one of his and Diana’s brainiest and quietest friends, standing at an angle with her lipstick smeared (since when did Ruth wear lipstick?), her blouse unbuttoned to her navel and her black skirt down around her hips, revealing a red lace bra and sky blue panties.

At least she was wearing a bra and panties. “Hullo, Danny. I’m very invert… inebriate.”

“Uh. Hello, Ruth.” Danny was having a hard time not staring down his friend’s unsuspectedly canyonous cleavage. “Uh. How was Phoebe and Diana’s bachlorette party?”

“Still going,” Ruth sighed. She threw her arms around Danny’s neck and gave his cheek a wet kiss. “Mmmmm. Hullo, Gilbert,” she said blearily, stumbling towards Gil, her breasts rubbing past Danny’s chest in a really diverting way.

Gil blinked at Ruth as she floated across the room toward him. “Damn, Ruth. You’re plowed.”

She stopped and looked down. “No, Gilbert. I don’t seem to have any furrows on me.” Stepping toward him again, she tripped over an empty bottle and flopped across Gil’s knees. “Wee!”

Gil stared down at Ruth’s backside — the skirt had now flopped up onto her back, revealing her panties not only to be blue, but semi-transparent. His chin trembling uncertainly, his hands gripping the arms of the chair, Gil looked to Danny for aid.

Transfixed by a backside as surprisingly round as the topside had proved to be, Danny was at a loss to give any. “Uh… Ruth?”

“Wee!” their friend giggled again, wriggling face-down across Gil’s lap. Gil remained motionless.

“Ruth,” Danny repeated somewhat more steadily, “what brings you here?”

“Well,” Ruth said, still folded across Gil’s thighs, “Diana and Phoebe wouldn’t let me share, so I decided I’d come here and be your Jonny.”

Over the years, Danny had learned to count to ten to give himself time to think Ruth’s statements through. Knowing himself to be somewhat plowed, he counted a full fifteen. “I’m sorry, Ruth,” he said finally, “I don’t understand.”

Gil nodded enthusiastically, his eyes fixed on the ceiling — as far from Ruth’s backside as he could get them.

“Oh,” Ruth said in tone of the mildest possible surprise. She began to push herself upright, one hand on the floor, the other on… some part of Gil that caused his eyes to bulge. She wobbled to a standing position, teetered and plopped back into Gil’s lap, sitting this time. “I fell,” she said, her head lolling back against Gil’s shoulder.

Gil squeaked. Danny hadn’t heard him squeak in years.

“Ruth,” Danny said, trying to keep his I-may-be-drunk-but-I’m-reasonable voice going, “I’m afraid we’re still in the dark as to why you’re here.”

“Ah,” Ruth said. “Well, I told you. I tried to climb up on the table with Phoebe and Diana and Jonny, but they wouldn’t share.”

“On the table?” Gil rumbled.

“Yes. I said. Phoebe and Diana and Jonny where there on the table. I would have folded myself in anywhere, you know.”

“What were they doing on the table?” Gil asked.

Danny had a very vivid idea of where this was headed, but somehow couldn’t manage to stop the train.

“Well, Gilbert, I would have thought that was obvious. I’ve heard you and Phoebe often enough that I know you’ve got a clairly fear idea…” Ruth shook her head, her hair flying in Gil’s face, and she giggled. “Fair. Ly. Clear.”

Danny’s stomach seemed to be filling with something cold and heavy.

“Gilbert, I wish you wouldn’t keep poking my butt, it’s distracting,” said Ruth, wriggling in a very distracting manner.

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