Best Friend's Daughter
Copyright© 2026 by duncan idaho
Chapter 13: Two at Once
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 13: Two at Once - After Mexico, Joe can't face his best friend, haunted by a secret with his best friend's daughter, Denise. Now he's dodging every invitation. (continuation from "Family Trip in Mexico")
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Teenagers Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Anal Sex Cream Pie Double Penetration AI Generated
Denise heard the footsteps before she saw them.
Two sets. Not one. The floorboards outside her door creaked in tandem, a heavier tread and a lighter one, out of sync, like a conversation spoken in weight instead of words.
Her body was still liquid from Spinoza’s finish, her thighs trembling, her cheek pressed to the damp sheet.
The coconut smell hung thick in the air.
She turned her head toward the door.
Genuine surprise flickered across her face. Not the slow, predatory recognition she’d given Mike. Not the dark hunger she’d offered Spinoza. This was unguardedeyebrows lifting, lips parting, the brief widening of blue eyes that hadn’t expected two silhouettes filling the doorframe.
Reinhart stepped through first. Silver-haired, lean, his cop’s eyes scanning the room with a professional detachment that belied the unmistakable ridge straining against his golf shorts.
DiBenedetto followed, broader, stockier, his sun-weathered face flushed beneath his tan.
The door drifted shut behind them with a soft click.
“Are you up to having two more?” Reinhart’s voice was gravel and calm, the same tone he’d used reading Miranda rights. “This time at the same time.” He paused. Let the offer settle. “If not, we leave. It’s your call.”
Denise pushed herself up on her elbows. The sheet stuck to her sweat-damp skin, peeled away reluctantly. Her blonde hair was a tangled mess spilling over one shoulder. Her thighs still bore the pink imprints of Spinoza’s grip. She looked thoroughly wrecked, gloriously wrecked and yet her smile spread slow as honey.
“Get undressed.”
Two words. Hoarse. Certain.
Reinhart’s mouth twitched at the corner. Not quite a smile. Something more dangerous.
His hands found his belt while DiBenedetto was already yanking his polo over his head, the fabric catching on his ears before he wrestled it free. Buttons. Zippers. The soft whump of khakis hitting the floor. Shoes kicked aside. Boxers followed, and then both men stood naked in the gold lamplight. Reinhart wiry and corded, his chest dusted with silver hair, his cock jutting upward at a slight angle; DiBenedetto thicker through the middle, his erection shorter but heavy, the head already slick.
Denise watched them with the calm appetite of a woman who’d stopped counting.
Reinhart moved first. He crossed to the bed, the springs groaning as he lowered himself onto his back. His head found the pillow, the same pillow that still bore the indent of Spinoza’s weight, the same pillow Denise had screamed into minutes ago.
He positioned himself in the center of the mattress and crooked a finger at her.
“Come here. Mount me.”
Denise crawled toward him.
The motion was slow, deliberate, a predator’s stalk rendered in the exhausted body of a woman running on pure want. Her breasts swayed with each movement, nipples still peaked, still flushed from Spinoza’s mouth. She swung one leg over Reinhart’s hips, then the other, straddling him with her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his waist.
His cock stood upright between them. Thick. Veined. The head was a deep, angry purple, and when Denise wrapped her fingers around it, Reinhart’s breath caught in his throat.
She positioned him at her entrance. The wet heat of her parted around the tip, and she sank down, slow, a controlled descent that made her jaw go slack and her eyelids flutter.
Inch by inch. The stretch was different than Spinoza’s, different than Mike’s, different than Joe’s. Reinhart filled her at a different angle, a different pressure, and when she finally bottomed out, the base of him flush against her, she let out a shaky exhale.
Reinhart groaned.
It was a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through his chest and into hers. His hands found her hips, and then they slid upward, over the curve of her waist, along her ribs, pulling her down toward him. His arms wrapped around her back.
Denise’s eyes widened in surprise.
She hadn’t expected this. The others had taken her from behind, or pushed her to her knees, or let her do the work while they lay back and watched. But Reinhart was pulling her close, pressing her breasts against the silver hair of his chest, bringing her face inches from his own.
His mouth found hers.
The kiss was not gentle. It was not tender. But it was present in a way Denise hadn’t anticipated, his lips moving against hers with a focused intensity, his tongue sliding past her teeth, his breath hot and tasting of bourbon.
She stiffened for half a heartbeat. Then something in her melted, and she kissed him back just as hard.
Her fingers curled into the hair on his chest. Her hips started to move, a slow grind, a circular rhythm that made him groan into her mouth.
The wet sounds of their joining filled the room, slick and obscene, and Denise lost herself in the dual sensation of his tongue and his cock, both of them filling her at once.
She didn’t notice his hands shifting.
Didn’t notice his grip on her back tightening, pulling her chest impossibly closer to his, pinning her in place.
She didn’t notice DiBenadetto moving behind her.
The mattress dipped. A bottle cap clicked open, the coconut lube, still on its side on the nightstand. A wet, slick sound as DiBenedetto coated his fingers, then his shaft. The headboard creaked as he positioned himself on his knees.
Denise felt the blunt pressure against her ass and went rigid.
“What”
“Shh.” Reinhardt’s voice was a rumble against her lips. “Just breathe.”
His arms tightened around her, holding her still. Not forceful. Not cruel. Just ... steady. A cage of muscle and bone and silver chest hair that kept her from pulling away while DiBenedetto’s slick cock pressed more insistently against her tightest entrance.
“Two at once,” Reinhart murmered. His thumb traced her cheekbone. “You said you wanted someone who wouldn’t treat you like glass. This is what that looks like.”
Denise’s breath came faster. Her pupils were blown wide, the blue of her irises reduced to thin rings around black. She was pinned between them, Reinhart’s cock buried in her pussy, DiBandetto’s cock demanding entry at her ass, and the sensation of being trapped, of being wanted from both sides at once, sent a shiver through her that had nothing to do with fear.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay. Do it.”
DiBenedetto pushed.
The head of his cock breached her, and Denisse cried out, a sharp, gasping sound that Reinhart swallowed with another kiss.
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