A Happy Throuple
Chapter 13

Copyright© 2017 by DeeKay

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 13 - After breaking up with his girlfriend, Leo hooks up with a bisexual couple and his wildest dreams come true.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Ma/Ma   Consensual   BiSexual   CrossDressing   Fiction   Humiliation   Rough   Group Sex   Polygamy/Polyamory   Anal Sex   Analingus   Double Penetration   Fisting   Oral Sex   Spitting   Squirting   Water Sports   Foot Fetish   Size  

It’s Monday. I don’t like Mondays. My ass is itchy, my muscles are sore and I am experiencing some major withdrawal symptoms. I miss Kari and Ken. I even miss Brit. Does this mean that I am a sexaholic? Sexaholic? I believe the correct term is sex-addict. I like sex. I love sex. Am I addicted to sex, or am I simply hyper-sexual? What’s the difference between the two? Who cares? Do you care? I know I don’t!

People do things, great things, terrible things, wonderful things and some very screwy things because of their raw, primal need for sex. I mean, I don’t go out and molest strangers to feed my addiction, and that makes me a good guy, right? Hmm, during these past few days I helped my hot sex buddies control, abuse and humiliate my dear ex-girlfriend. Yep, I’m such a wonderful guy ... a first class dick!

Oh shit! Brit!

I haven’t spoken to her since we left Kari and Ken’s place yesterday afternoon. I wonder why she let us use and abuse her the way we did. Is she going to be pissed at me? Fuck it. Why should I care about her feelings? She’s a big girl. But, I do care. My head is going to explode if I think about this much longer.

I need a triple, no scratch that, I need a quadruple espresso to get me through the rest of this fucking workday. Naturally, we don’t have an espresso machine here at work, only some kind of piss coffee brewed by a giant of a man named Einar. For some reason Einar is always hovering around the coffee machine, probably guarding it with his life. Keeping my eyes on Einar’s red, bushy beard and his creepy smile, I gulp down a full mug of his barely caffeinated brewed piss and smile back at him. You know me well by now; I don’t mind drinking piss, but you have to at least fuck me first to get me in the mood.

“Good stuff,” I lie, feigning a smile.

“You’re welcome,” Einar says in his usual cheerful gravelly voice and winks at me.

Poor, clueless, giant weirdo! He thinks he just made my day with his exquisite brew. I smile and leave the break room, then I remember that I have to put my phone away before I start working.

Ping! I check my phone. I have a text message.

Brit: Coffee after work?

Me: 5:30. The new place near my house.

Brit: Smiley face.

Smiley face? That’s a good sign, I guess.

I’m about to put my phone in my locker when... Ping!

Brit: Fuck after coffee?

Wow! I wasn’t expecting that one. This crazy chick is on fire. Oh well, here’s something to get excited about. Coffee, and sex afterwards; maybe? Wait a sec ... really? Should I call Kari and ask for her permission? I don’t know. Maybe? No; Kari won’t mind.

Me: Maybe.

Brit: Heart. Heart. Kissy face. Smiley pussycat. Lots of pussycats!

I’m such a fool. I expected Brit to be mad at me, or at least be ashamed of herself because of the events of these past few days; but I know Brit. She can be loving and horny one minute, and totally cold and distant the next. Maybe she has changed. Has she? I don’t know; I guess I’ll find out in a few hours. But now, I need to put away my phone and get to work. I have to push all the naughty, sex related thoughts out of my mind.

Tick, tock, tick, tock. Coffee, pussy, coffee, pussy...


I am enjoying my strong, but smooth-as-velvet quadruple espresso. Sitting across the table from me, Brit is enjoying her cappuccino. She is wearing a light, pink jacket over a tight, white Hello Kitty T-shirt ... and no bra. With her blue eyeshadow, thick, black eyelashes and pink lipstick, she looks like a spoiled, rich brat straight out of a skanky music video. She gives me half a smile as she fumbles nervously with a pack of cigarettes for a while until she finally takes one out and fires it with a lighter. I feel that she’s about to say something, so I wait for her to speak first. She takes a seductive drag off her cigarette and finally looks at me, sighing deeply. She looks so beautiful and vulnerable as her eyes tear up and her lips start to quiver like a little girl who has just lost her favorite doll.

“Do you ... I mean ... I,” she pauses for another draw on her cigarette. “What happened this weekend wasn’t real, was it?”

“Why?” I feign confusion, knowing pretty well what she is going through right now.

“I mean ... well ... I,” Brit mutters, staring at the table, at her fingernails, at anything and everything but me, then she starts to weep quietly.

Oh boy; here we go. I knew that this was coming. She is regretful, but at least she is not pissed at me. She looks so fucking cute when she is helpless. I can go on tormenting her, but I won’t. I know where her frustration is coming from. She is essentially a good girl who has been through some unfortunate crap during her life. But then again, who goes through life without experiencing some kind of trauma? You’ve never gone through anything that has left you confused, angry or jaded? Our parents put us through crap because their parents put them through crap and we’ll probably put our children through crap and they put their children through crap until the end of times. We are unkind to those who are good to us, because someone else has been unkind to us in the past.

“You’re worried that I think any less of you, right?” I say softly with a comforting smile.

“Oh god!” she sighs. “Yes! Thank you. I didn’t know how to say it. I mean ... everything that happened was ... surreal! I mean, it felt like it wasn’t me doing all those filthy, stupid, wonderfully exciting things! What the fuck is wrong with me? I am a good girl, from a good family. I still go to church, well not all the time, but some ... times. One minute I am me, the next I am being treated like a sex doll by the man I love and two complete strangers. Now I’m sitting here with you and I am crying ... and I am soaking wet down there at the same time!”

I found a few of Brit’s statements inconsistent with reality. Brit’s father is a religious hypocrite. Her mother is a closeted alcoholic with no backbone. Her good family is just a facade and as good as any other dysfunctional family. This good family thing is just a fictional, alternate reality that Brit is trying so hard to hang onto, and when reality clashes with fiction, she gets confused and angry.

“First off ... you need to chil ... lax!” I say calmly. “let’s look at the facts. You tell me you love me. Do you? Really?”

“I do,” she says. “I truly do. I know my actions indicate otherwise, but I love you!”

“All right,” I say with a smile. “You say you come from a good family, but you know that your father is an asshole, just like my father. He tried to break you like mine did with me. My dad never cared about God or church, so I never went. Yours, used God and Jesus to control you, your mom and your brothers, then he left all of you for a younger woman, then came back, was forgiven, but then he did it again. You, marrying a controlling man was the direct result of your father’s actions. You needed someone to fix. Then you found me, and you started punishing me for the bad deeds of that very same someone you couldn’t fix. Am I right so far?”

Brit takes a sip from her cappuccino and nods.

“So now, you and I have a choice,” I continue. “We can either be like our fathers; we can be miserable and spread that misery just because it makes us feel bigger and holier than everyone else, or we can take responsibility for our own life and actions; in other words, enjoy what we have and who we are now, today. If you feel guilty when you’re truly happy, just because some hypocrite says you should feel guilty ... well that’s just silly, isn’t it?”

Brit looks into my eyes as she draws on her cigarette, then blows a thin cloud of smoke through her sexy nostrils. The sad expression on her face has completely vanished, instead a lovely smile is gracing her beautiful face.

“I have never loved you more than I do now,” she says. “I mean ... how old are you? Sometimes you talk like an old monk. You’ve always been this way, I know, that’s why I fell in love with you in the first place!”

Fuck old monks! They’re so full of shit. Any kind of ideology that promotes and causes intellectual oppression and sexual repression in the name of divinity or spiritual enlightenment is worth less than a pile of shit. Ok, so ... enough thinking.

Let’s cut right into the action you’ve been waiting for:

Oh, look! There’s me: leaning back on my elbows on my bed while my feet are planted firmly on the floor and my ass rests on the very edge of the bed. On her knees in front of my spread legs, Brit is taking her time licking my balls. She has three fingers lodged firmly deep inside my clenching asshole. She drags her tongue over my balls and slowly up my shaft, then across my piss-hole before wrapping her lips around my throbbing mushroom shaped cock-head. She looks up and stares directly into my eyes and bats her full lashes before taking my twitching dick deeper into her sexy mouth. She moans and hums, making me shiver from the light vibration caused by her vocal chords.

“Fuck!” I gasp.

“Mmm,” she continues to hum.

Brit applies more pressure on my clenching poopity-pooper with her fingers, then she puts her other hand on my pubes, pushing down firmly ... and ... there you go. That’s it. I start to quiver when she curls her fingers upward deep inside me. My sensitive prostate gland tingles and I know that I am about to shoot my wad down her throat. She knows it too. SPLUT! SPLAT! SPLUT! I spurt load after load after load of thick cum into her mouth and down her throat. She makes absolutely no attempt to pull her mouth off my squirting dick.

Yodel-ay-hee-hoo! I’m done. No more cum to squirt. I grab Brit’s head with both hands and pull her face up and off of my crotch. What the heck? My slick dick is still hard! Bravo Junior! Moving swiftly, she climbs the bed, straddles me and impales her pussy down on my invincible shaft. I lean back on my elbows again and watch her cute body bounce up and down my stiffy. I grab her hot tits through her Hello Kitty shirt and squeeze hard, then find her nipples and pinch them. Panting and moaning, she looks into my eyes once again and licks her lips. She bounces up and down very fast, then faster and faster, slamming her naked ass cheeks against my thighs.

SLAP! SMACK! SLAM! SCHLOP? Her cunt starts to twitch and ... here comes the flood!

“PFUUUUCK!” she cries out as she falls backward, causing my dick to plop out of her convulsing, squirting cunt.

A rich torrent of warm pussy juice, mixed with piss and whatnot splashes all over my chest and face as I watch Brit lose her balance and fall off the bed. Terrified, I grab onto her Hello Kitty shirt, but as she topples off the bed and down to the floor, her shirt rips apart and I fall flat on my back onto the bed. Bye-bye Kitty! Still holding onto pieces of Brit’s shirt, I sit up and look down, expecting to find Brit shattered into pieces all over floor.

 
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