Sneak Preview from The Visitor’s Wedding:
A Friendly Menage Tale (MMF threesome)
Jessie waved at Andy and her new sister-in-law as they rode away in the flower-decked cart, and she found herself trying not to think about the men at her elbows. Jessie hadn’t ever been exactly overburdened when it came to male companionship. Booger barely counted, and they’d been divorced for over a year — all but for forever before that — and besides him…
Beside her, two men — men — in dress uniforms stepped forward, each taking a hand.
Jessie’s middle flipped, then flipped again.
The horse cart bearing Jessie’s brother and his bride — and their husband, for God’s sake, and his sister, not to mention Cherry and Prior — turned the corner, and as it disappeared, Jessie could just make out Andy’s teeth closing on Lea’s ear, and that did funny things to Jessie’s middle too.
“So, Jessie,” said the older one, Pat, the captain, who looked more like George Clooney than any man Jessie had any right to be near. “You’re looking a lot happier than you did this afternoon.”
Smiling at him, Jessie tried to say something cute or clever but all that came out was a kind of wobbly Hmmmm!
On her other side, Billings, young, black, and sweet as honey, squeezed her hand. “Nice wedding. Easy to be happy.”
“Three nice weddings.” Jessie laughed, fighting down the panic brought on by the two very different hands holding hers. “God.” Not even thinking about it, Jessie began to lead the two men back toward Pa’s shed, where she’d led Booger so many times back when they were kids — away from the house, from prying eyes.
But tonight there were dozens of Harris cousins and guests laughing and drinking. Prior’s brothers, passing a blunt around. Deacon…
Something stronger than panic began to grip Jessie’s middle.
The men didn’t seem to notice. Pat was chuckling. “Well, three nice weddings. And unique. Can’t say I’ve ever seen anything like it.”
“You okay with it, Jessie?” Billings whispered.
“Okay?” Jessie was struggling with the image of Deacon Lawrence after Prior and Cherry’s wedding. Him passed out on her bed upstairs, dead drunk with his pants halfway down. And her, kneeling there between his knees, ready and raring to go, left to take care of herself. Again. Humiliating.
Deacon hadn’t said a word to her since.
Not that she could look him in the face.
The other guests were laughing and her cousin Billy had started playing “Devil with the Blue Dress,” but Billings continued, still whispering, “Okay with Andy, and Lea, and… You know.”
Andy and Lea and Sean.
“Oh, yeah” said Jessie, not sure at all how she felt about it, but only having enough room in her head for Jessie and Pat and… She turned to Billings. “Um. You got a first name?”
Pat snorted and Billings scowled.
“What?” Jessie asked, hoping she hadn’t just fucked the whole thing up. But it seemed like asking a boy’s first name when you were about to do whatever it was they were about to do was kind of a reasonable question.
Billings’s annoyance softened as he looked at her. “It’s okay. I just don’t use it a lot. It’s… Mario.”
“Super Mario!” chuckled the captain.
Billings growled at him, but Jessie recognized this: two boys giving each other shit. She laughed, feeling slightly less out of control, and squeezed their hands. They both laughed along.
Then, as they rounded the back of Pa’s shed, Pat leaned over and kissed her, his lips finding hers without hesitation but without too much force.
Billings’s — Mario’s lips touched her bare shoulder, and began to work their way up toward her neck.
Now she was feeling out of control.
Jessie turned between the two men, falling back against the corrugated steel of the shed wall so that the whole wall shook, unleashing a low roll of thunder that seemed to pass over them. Thank god cousin Billy is playing like the crazy man he is and nobody can hear that. She meant to ask them were they sure, but they seemed pretty damned sure. Before anything like a question could form itself, Mario captured her mouth in his, and Pat’s teeth closed around her earlobe, and holy fuck…
She and Booger had made out so many times back here, back before they were married. Hell, after they were married. That’d stopped pretty early on. When Jessie had figured out that no matter how hot he got, once Booger shot his load, he was done for the night, and it was Jessie and her magic fingers again.
Somehow, Jessie didn’t think that would be a problem this time.
Mario’s lips were cool and full — not as wide as Deacon’s, but softer than Pat’s, and plusher than Booger’s by a long shot, and they sent a steady flow of sex down her spine.
Billy’s band segued straight into some scorching, bluesy something that was all bass and backbeat, and Pat was nibbling his way down her neck while Mario’s tongue began to slide between Jessie’s teeth and Pat’s tongue slipped into Jessie’s ear, and that flow of sex passed all of the way through her and good Lord!
Jessie’s sex life had been mostly a lot of desire and not a lot of satisfaction. Booger hadn’t been her first lover — he’d been one of four boys she’d regularly jumped into the back seat with at the town’s crappy old drive-in theater. Thank Jesus for Pa’s old Cutlass — Jessie was 6′ in her stocking feet (Andy liked to joke that she was 5’12”), but that old boat had been wide enough for her to do all sorts of fun things without sticking her feet out the window…
But nothing like this.
Pat began to kiss his way down the side of her neck and that sent a bolt of forked lightning down to her nipples and her pussy, and she moaned into Mario’s lush, luscious mouth. Two hands began to pull down the bodice of her black cocktail dress (Bless you, Lea, a bridesmaid’s dress I might actually wear again — if it survives the night) revealing her breasts to searching fingers, and two other hands began to pull up the skirt, and Jessie didn’t know which hands belonged to who — didn’t know, didn’t care — but as a mouth closed around a nipple and fingers found and traced the weeping length of her pussy, Jessie screamed, and a flare of terrifying heat pulsed through her, and in spite of herself, in spite of how fucking good she felt, she pushed the two boys away.
They stood there for a moment, staring at her, and she stared back. Jessie found that she was panting, and that she was crying, and she couldn’t account for either, but she didn’t really care. “God,” she gasped, “wanna fuck you two fuckin’ dry.” Then she put a hand in front her mouth, stunned that she’d actually said that.
Mario grinned like a man who’s been given a hundred dollars change for a ten dollar bill. Pat smirked. “Fine with us,” he grunted, and both men reached out to her bare breasts again, and that heat almost immediately began to rise again in Jessie. “But not where anyone could see us,” she gasped.
“Okay,” her men said, their hands still searching, distracting…. Mario flicked his head toward the shed door. “In there?”
“Oh, God, no!” Jessie giggled. “Not unless your idea of comfy is an anvil and a pile of scrap iron.”
Pat smiled, less smirky now, “No, can’t say that it does. Anywhere in the house?”
Jessie shook her head. “Only room with any privacy is Ma and Pa’s, and… Um…” Even at age thirty, the idea of fucking on her parents’ bed made Jessie queasy.
“Yeah,” laughed Mario, “I bet.” He leaned forward and kissed her again, gently pressing Pat’s fingers and his own against her aching nipples.
“I think,” said Pat, “I know where we can go.” His voice was low, rumbling, and full ofsomething that made her moan into Mario’s lips again. “Come on, Billings,” he continued, suddenly full of command. “Let’s get my truck and take this young lady where she can fuck us fuckin’ dry with nobody watching.” His fingers gave her nipple a gentle squeeze, and, together with Mario, he pulled Jessie’s dress back up over her boobs.
When Mario pouted, Jessie said, “It’s okay, baby. You can play with ‘em all you want, later.” Then she leaned forward and kissed Pat. “You too, Captain.”
“Good.” Pat grinned and held out and took one of Jessie’s hands, while Mario took the other.
Cousin Billy was wailing through some old Bruce Springsteen number that had the remaining partiers jumping up and down and screaming. Jessie could see her sister Danielle writhing against her wimpy husband in a manner that should have made Jessie uncomfortable, but tonight didn’t bother her at all.
As they walked off toward the road, Jessie realized that the sight of Danielle and Robby grinding like a couple of teenagers didn’t bother her because, in fact, she felt like the sexiest bitch in Georgia, there between her two gorgeous men. Hell yes!Reaching out with her fingers, she stroked the front of each fireman’s dress uniform pants, and confirmed that each was sporting what felt like a healthy hard-on. Damn.
As they passed the house, a departing car’s headlights revealed the silhouette of what Jessie thought for a second was a small tree where no tree ought to have been. As the glare swept on, she realized that it was in fact three silhouettes in close embrace: two girls, Robby’s kin from across in Tennessee, and the one person Jessie least wanted to see: Deacon Lawrence. He had his arms around both girls and his lips attached to the smaller one, the redhead. “Hey, Deacon.”
Deacon broke the kiss and stood up straight, his eyes flashing up to Jessie’s wide with guilt. “Uh. Hey, Jess.” But then he took in the two men beside her, and his eyebrows shot up. “Damn, girl!”
“Damn, yourself,” she countered, standing tall as she so rarely did. Pat and Mario squeezed her hands. Holy fuck. “You gonna treat these young ladies right?” No passing out, leaving them to get themselves off?
The redhead turned tomato-colored and burrowed into Deacon’s armpit. The blonde covered her face and looked at her lavender shoes. But Deacon kept his eyes locked to Jessie’s, answering in a low, measured voice that told her he know exactly what she was asking, “Yes, Jess. I am.” Then he smiled. “You gonna treat these young men right?”
Jessie glanced at Mario, whose skin was darkening, and at Pat, who had a huge grin on, and smiled herself. “Oh, yeah, Deacon. I sure as fucking hell am.”
They all laughed, a sound echoed from all over the Harris property. Deacon took the two girls and led them off up the road toward where his car must have been parked. “Have fun,” he called over his shoulder.
“You too,” she called back, feeling somehow drunker and happier than she had even two minutes before.
Pat started leading her down the road in the opposite direction. “Shouldn’t that be,You three?” he chuckled, and Jessie laughed with him.
“Jessie?” Mario said. “What was that about?”
“Oh.” Suddenly she felt just as drunk, but not as happy. “Can I…? Can I tell you after we get to the car?”
“Sure,” both men answered.
As they walked down the long line of pickups and SUVs that lined the road, Jessie’s eyes adjusted to the dark. She could make out the stars — Pegasus rising — and lightning bugs dancing in the grass.
“Here it—” Pat started, pulling out his keys as they came even with a shining black Suburban, but stopped when a woman’s groan came from the other side of the road.
There, another big, shiny SUV had its back gate up. A woman Jessie recognized as the one woman firefighter from Andy’s company was kneeling behind another firefighter—a man. His face was invisible, hidden between another woman’s pale thighs.
“Hey, Captain!” said the woman firefighter. Her far arm seemed to be pumping up and down at… something.
“Joanie,” said Pat. “Is that…?”
“Jack Miller,” said the kneeling woman. “Me and Giselle’re giving him a lesson in how to treat a lady.” She leaned forward and bit the man’s ear, making him groan and making the woman whose legs were over his shoulders call out again. “This round, I’m providing… positive reinforcement.”
“Uh, carry on,” said Pat, sounding off balance for the first time that night.
“Yessir,” said Joanie. “Practice makes perfect, sir.” She did something with her hand that made Miller pull up his head. “Now, Jack, what have we talked about?”
“Better to give…” gasped the fireman, and then swore and dove back in.
Jessie felt her jaw drop. What the fuck is happening tonight? Did Lea put something in the beer?
“Have fun, Captain!” Joanie called. “You too, Super Mario.” She winked at Jessie. “And I don’t even have to tell you to have fun.”
“Um. Thanks,” Jessie said, and pulled Mario Billings to the passenger side of the car, away from the increasing sounds of the woman’s moans of arousal — something Jessie had never heard, at least not without a wall or a car window to make it a bit less….
The locks clicked open, and Pat called, “Why don’t you two get in back. I’ll play chauffeur.”
Mario opened the rear door for Jessie. He was standing at attention, and it was tummy-meltingly sweet and gentleman-like — though the tent at the front of his dress pants kind of spoiled the effect a bit.
She stepped in, and started to sit behind Pat, but he said, “Why don’t you to stretch out in the back row.”
Shrugging, Jessie moved to the way-back, and Mario slid in beside her.
She kissed him, and then felt funny—she didn’t want Pat to feel left out.
Mario gazed into her eyes. His, she realized, where a hazel that seemed to light up his whole face. Strong jaw, full lips… Gorgeous. Oh, God…
“So,” he said, taking her hand, “what was that about with what’s-his-name by the house? You said you’d tell us.” He ran fingers up the inside of her arm.
“Oh.” Jessie shivered. “Deacon. Him and me, we… Um… We hooked up once, at his brother’s wedding — Prior, he was Andy’s best man.”
“Oh?” His eyes were warm and solemn.
Jessie licked her lips. “Um. Yeah.” She shivered again, goose pimples breaking out all over her body. “Hooked up. Sort of. Only—”
Mario raised Jessie’s arm and kissed her wrist, and (Oh, God!) Jessie was in the back seat of a big old boat of a car again, and all she wanted to do was — “Only?” Mario asked.
“Only, um, Deacon, he passed out before anything really… happened.”
“Ah.” He kissed the inside of her elbow. “He left you hanging.”
Unable to speak, Jessie nodded and looked out the window, away from Mario. It was pitch black outside. The Suburban was winding uphill through the woods — but since the town was surrounded by hills and woods, Jessie had no idea where they were going.
“So that’s why you were telling him to treat those girls right,” called the captain from the front seat. “You let us know if he doesn’t. We’ll sic Joannie on him.”
Trying not to get lost in the feeling of Mario’s lips against her bare shoulder, Jessie panted, “Wouldn’t you, uh, rather — hnhh —wouldn’t y’all rather be with her and that Giselle girl? Or that blonde and that little redhead?”
“Nope,” answered Pat. In the rear view mirror, Jessie could just see his mouth, turned up in a grin.
Mario lifted his lips from her neck and stared into her eyes, those hazel eyes of his looking other-worldly. “Why would we want that, when we get to be with a goddess like you?” And then his mouth found hers, and Jessie was lost.
Goddess. And there hadn’t been even a bit of a tease or a sneer in his eyes. Why in God’s name would anyone—?
Kenny, Jessie’s first boyfriend — well, the first boy Jessie’d slept with — had called her Jessie the Giant. She’d been about six inches taller than him, had outweighed him, but he’d been the first boy she’d let between her legs in the back seat of the old Cutlass. What had been showing at the drive-in that night — Grease? Jessie couldn’t remember. But she could remember him being fascinated by how big she was. Big ass. Big tits. Big everything. Definitely not a goddess.
Joined the Marines after graduation. He was Jessie’s height by then, and dating Christy Palmer, who was 5’2” and a 32A. Went off to Iraq. Never came back.
As the Suburban rolled through the Georgia night, for the first time in her life, Jessie felt herself being adored. Worshipped. It was an amazing feeling. Overwhelming. Amazing.
Mario kissed his way down her neck, along her collarbone. Somehow, the top of Jessie’s dress was back below her tits, and so as she arched into the touch of his lips, her breasts lifted, big, soft, and pale, but he worshipped them just the same, kissing, licking, nibbling around the edge of one nipple with mind-scrambling slowness, as if to make sure he’d kissed every single bump, before latching his teeth onto the aching, insistent flesh at the center.
Clutching the headrests on either side to keep from exploding, Jessie found herself staring at the review mirror.
Pat’s blue eyes flicked up and met hers. He winked.
Mario had moved on from the other breast, and was kissing his way down Jessie’s trembling belly. She gaped down at him, kneeling between her thighs, but his eyes held the same steady adoration. Without breaking eye contact, he pushed the dress up, so that it was now more of a belt: breasts bare, nothing below but the pink undies she’d put on that morning dreaming that someone would tear them off of her. Mario kissed the inside of one thigh, and then the other. “Can I eat you?”
Jessie gaped at him, wanting to say Fuck yes! or Please do! or If you insist! or something clever or cute, but all she could do was nod like an idiot.
Smiling, he hitched his thumbs under the strip of dental floss that ran over each of Jessie’s hips. When she didn’t move, he mouthed Lift up. His breath whispered along the inside of her thigh.
Feeling as if she might pass out soon, but thinking that letting him remove her panties first might be a good idea, Jessie did.
He pulled off the tiny swatch of lace and laid it on the seat, then gazed at Jessie’s pussy.
“You… you don’t have to.”
He shot her a wild, wicked grin, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against her, and flame blossomed inside of Jessie, leaving her blind, breathless, and more alive than she had ever felt. Mario’s hands slid up and found Jessie’s breasts, sparking more flame.
Booger had licked at her a few times, but he’d had a look on his face like he was going to catch cooties or something, and Jessie had had to fake an orgasm to get him to stop. Hank Miller, her boss at the hardware store, had done much better, getting her good and wet before flipping her, fucking her bent over the ledgers on her desk. That had lasted a few months, till Jessie had mentioned as they lay that she was thinking of leaving Booger, and then the son of a bitch had fired her.
Then again, neither of them had made her feel like this. Neither of them had done it like they’d actually wanted to do anything but get her ready for the main event.
This… This was the main event. The only event. For now.
The day that Jessamyn “Jessie” Harris had married Robert “Booger” Jenkins, the preacher had told them, “Eternity isn’t later. Eternity has nothing to do with time. Eternity is now and always. Your life together is part of and of a whole with the eternal reward you wish to attain.”
Well, marriage to Booger hadn’t been any kind of reward. But now….
Jessie was aware of the pressure of Mario’s tongue, of the heat and slide of his lips and teeth, but she wasn’t really aware of herself at all.
And so when fingers ran along her cheek and into her hair, she was confused — her own? Mario’s — but he had both working at her breasts, so how…?
“So fucking sexy,” growled Pat, and leaned forward to kiss her throat.
Jessie hadn’t ever wondered what a power cord felt like when the switch turned on and the electricity flowed. She didn’t need to wonder now.
Trying to keep from losing herself in the feeling of two mouths teasing eternity out of her flesh, she panted, “Shouldn’t… you be… drivin’?”
Pat chuckled and kissed her way up her throat to her ear. “We’re here.” His voice seemed to hum through her, meeting up with the edgeless flame of Mario’s tongue, and Jessie was lost in the vibration, her whole body flooding with a feeling that was too big, too scary to be called pleasure. She felt herself lift off of the chair, so that her only points of contact with the world were the two men’s mouths, which lifted her up — like the paper-bag hot-air balloons she’d made with Andy once — and let her fly.