Three Foot No Cock Zone

Ollie slipped off his coat, throwing it against the foyer table in disgust. It slumped to the floor and just lay there, a dejected heap of what used to be white. It had been a real piss ripper at the hospital today. Just fucking wonderful. On his feet for hours on end, patients who didn't need help but insisted they were dying and patients who were dying but insisted they were fine. Shit. They'd lost one today. A sixteen year old going on thirty. The blood had soaked his shirt so thoroughly they couldn't tell it from his gang colors. Shot down like a gator on a bender. He leaned against the wall and rubbed his temples. He couldn't remember why he wanted to be a doctor in the first place. Certainly not to see that. Never to see that. Shit.

"C'mon, doc. Let lil' miss Muffin take care of you, sugar." She grabbed his wrists and pulled them down. He opened his eyes and sighed.

"I'm tired, Muff."

"I ain't blind, sugar. C'mon. Think Doc Ollie C., gyno to gorgeous babes everywhere."

"I'm thinking Doc Ollie, purveyor of booze in a cheesy bar. At least I'll sleep."

He let her tug him into the other room. She smiled at him, then shoved him backwards. He lost his balance and fell, his butt landing squarely on a chair that had not been there when he'd left yesterday morning. He yelped, floundering like a fish before he realized he was okay and she hadn't killed him. One of these days, he promised himself, he was going to spank her for that. Her eyes twinkled devilishly, then she pounced, straddling him. Her hands slapped leather next to his ears and his head went down and feet went up. A recliner? Since when did they own a recliner? She grinned at him like an overgrown cat who'd eaten the wrong canary.

He eyed her suspiciously. "What?"

"You're in a Barcalounger. Sexy, huh?" She wiggled her butt and the whole thing rocked.

"Sexy is not what I think of when I hear the word ‘Barcalounger.'" She ignored that. Her fingers attacked his trousers, yanking at the belt and the buttons. "C'mon Muff, I've been up for like thirty-six hours now."

Her tongue was hanging out of the corner of her mouth and her brow was furrowed. His pants were winning again. "If you'd been up for like thirty-six hours you wouldn't be complaining. Dammit, I can't get this thing to work and I want to try out my new vibrator!"

"Try in the nightstand."

"Ah-ah."

She finally gave up and ripped his pants open. There's nothing quite like a woman so hot for your cock that she rips your clothes off of you. Even when you're exhausted and wanting nothing more than a hot shower and two weeks of sleep. "You owe me another pair."

"Add it to my tab." She seemed a little put out that his dick wasn't standing at attention for her. She wiggled it, watching it flop around.

"I told you I was tired. Didn't believe me. I'm Oliver, not Super Cock."

"Oh, okay." She wasn't listening. She slid down his legs and sucked his cock into her mouth. He may have been exhausted, but his cock sure as hell wasn't. It rose to the bait like a twenty pound bass after a well presented fly. She snapped it up with a gleeful gurgle and wriggled her tongue all over its head. She sucked her way down to the bottom and did something with her teeth that made him cringe and think about cumming all at the same time.

If he held her head and rubbed the back of her throat with his cock, he could cum in no time. She had other plans. She gave it last loving lick, then climbed up his body. He watched her breasts sway with each move and decided he couldn't have designed a better pair himself. Perfect heft and balance with just enough nipple to make them tasty. She sat up in his lap, her breasts jiggling, and reached between her legs.

A moment later and the first kiss of hot, wet pussy against the head of his dick reminded him exactly why he loved having roommates. Her belly worked sinuously, rocking her hips back and forth in a mesmerizing rhythm that had his cock buried deep inside of her in next to no time. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling. The Barcalounger was relaxing as hell. His cock was balls deep inside of a tight pussy. What more could a man want?

His eyes flew open when the chair started vibrating along his spine. The speed kicked up a notch. His dick tingled. She ground down against him. Her eyes were crossed again. He closed his. She always reminded him of his mother's cat when she did that; the one who had run full tilt into a plate glass window and knocked itself stupid. He hated that cat.

"I love my new vibrator," she groaned, shoving her fingers under his shirt. "Ollie-vibe. I should patent this and make a mint."

"You can't patent my dick." She wrenched her hips. His eyes crossed. "Ollie-vibe," he agreed. "Do that again." She did. "Again."

The front door slammed open, bouncing off the wall. "Hey honeys! I'm ho-o-o-o-ome!" P.C. slammed the door shut and emptied his pockets onto the foyer table. He kicked at the bloody coat on the floor. "Bad day at the office, sugar?"

Ollie gritted his teeth. "Don't call me sugar."

Muff whined something unintelligible and considered cumming all over his cock. He grabbed her hips and held her still until it passed. He didn't want whining. He wanted screaming. He wanted her sobbing his name and howling so loud the neighbors called the cops again.

"Damn, Ollie, hog all the muff. You prick."

"Fuck off, darlin."

"Don't call me darlin." P.C. sauntered into the room. "Hey! That's my Barcalounger! I'm not sharing."

"P.C., darlin, hate to break it to ya'll, but you're already sharing." Muff leaned against Ollie's chest, her eyes locked on the fly of P.C.'s jeans. She licked her lips and grinned. Her finger traced the front where the buttons barely held onto the soft denim. "Howse my favorite agronomist? Good day at work?"

P.C. rubbed the leather armrest next to Muff's leg. "Ain't she a beauty?"

"Oh yeah," Ollie groaned, tweaking a nipple.

"I meant the Barcalounger."

"Did you get into P.C.'s Viagra again, Muffin honey?" Ollie asked, palming her ass and squeezing.

"Dammit, it's not my Viagra, you sick bastard. You wrote that prescription and then filled it. That was a sick fucking joke."

"Gojo. I smell Gojo." She squeezed P.C.'s cock through his jeans. Her fingers tangled in the buttons and she had less trouble with those than she did with Ollie's trousers. "You shouldn't wear these jeans, P.C., your cock keeps falling out."

"The IH 504 broke down again, had to fix it."

She immediately lost interest in his dick. "You didn't use my tools did you? Last time you got into my Snap-on you left the drawers a mess."

"It's a toolbox, Muff, not museum display."

"I don't care if it's just a bunch of blue-light specials, it's my toolbox!"

"I just borrowed the socket set, don't get your titties twisted."

"Do you two mind? I'm trying to cum here."

"You didn't get the metric and the–" P.C. shut her up the best way he knew how, he stuck his cock in her mouth. "–mmmph!"

"She's gonna bite it off."

"Nah, she likes my cock."

She spit his dick out. "You got my tools dirty, didn't you!"

"They're tools! They're supposed to get dirty. Besides, it's a tractor, it's muddy. I cleaned the damned things. You shouldn't be so fuckin' anal about your tools, Muff. You should be thinking about fucking and anal." P.C. tweaked her nipple. "C'mon fucksprocket, get off. I don't want cum stains on my Barcalounger. If anyone is going to break it in, it'll be me. We've got a bed for this sorta thing."

"You need a shower anyway, you stink."

"I work for a living, Doc, we do that."

Ollie pushed Muff off his cock and jumped to his feet, ignoring her indignant squawk when she hit the carpet. "Hey! I work just as hard, if not harder than you do!"

"Jesus Christ, Ollie! Put that thing away!" P.C. frowned at the ceiling. "You're just pissed because all the chicks at the hospital dig me."

"They think you're a textbook case for erectile dysfunction."

"We can't all have perfect cocks like mine, you know."

"A perfect cock if you're a Chihuahua, maybe."

"You're just pissed because that damned mutt likes to hump your leg."

"At least it doesn't eat my underwea-"

"Whenever ya'll're done bonding, I'll be upstairs in bed. If you're lucky, you'll beat the vibrator. If you're not, I hope you don't mind making each other happy, cause I have to go and fix the mess in my toolbox. I'm getting a fucking lock." Muffin shoved herself to her feet and glared at the two of them.

"Wonder what she's so pissed about." Ollie scratched his head and watched her stomp up the stairs.

"Dunno, women. Can't live with ‘em and you can't spank ‘em because they put stuff in your coffee when you're not looking."

"No one told you to spank her, P.C.."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"So did Waterloo." Ollie smirked, heading up the stairs. "It's a good thing there's a doctor in the house."

"Oh shut up. Don't forget about the time you decided to move her truck."

"Now that's low. You didn't have to bring that up."

"It was funny. Dibs on the shower."

"Good, because you still stink."

P.C. waved over his shoulder and slammed the bathroom door shut. Ollie took his time putting his shoes away and arranging the stuff in his pockets on the flat surface of his chest of drawers. He grinned when he heard the off-kilter sound of whistling from the shower. He hummed along and went to the bathroom door. Muff leaned against the door-jamb that led to her bedroom and gave him a look that was both dirty and amused. Someday he'd figure out how she did that. Now, though, he just grinned wider then beat on the door. "Get a move on in there! You're using up all the hot water! Don't you dare touch my soap, you perv!"

P.C. bellowed something he didn't understand and thumped against the shower wall. Satisfied, Ollie went off to wait his turn in the shower. One of these days they had to get a second bathroom.

The plan had been to get clean, get some Muffin, and get some sleep. He knew he couldn't count on P.C. to be a pal and go elsewhere to watch TV. Muff was inconsiderate as hell, too. The more the merrier, she always said. It never occurred to her that he might want a little bit of one on one so he could get some sleep. He had been right. P.C. was wrapped around her, humping her leg, fingers buried inside, and playing a little tonsil hockey.

He could just skip sex and go to bed. "Hey, share the Muff."

"Just when it was getting hot, too."

"The more the-"

"–merrier," they chimed in unison. She smiled at them, satisfied.

"Look, P.C., I don't mean to be accusatory here, but last time there was some definite bad touches going on."

"Hey, that wasn't my fault, you were jigging around the bed like a catfish out of water, not me."

"You weren't exactly the epitome of comportment, you know." Ollie glared at P.C. to forestall the round of insults. "I'm just saying that there was some accidental touching and maybe we should lay down some ground rules. For safety."

P.C. scratched his head. "Good idea." He rolled out the bed and stood on the opposite side. He always thought better when he had room to pace. Ollie crossed his arms and took a moment to admire Muff's tits when she sat up and they bounced. That was the best thing about women. They moved and their titties jiggled. "We've got to figure out a way to do this without touching."

"Yeah." Ollie pretended he'd been listening. "No touching."

"We could stay on opposite ends, I think. One on her mouth and one on her pussy. She's got a good," he eyed her torso critically, "three foot spread between her mouth and her pussy. We could go get a tape measure to make sure."

"P.C.!" She was starting to look a little irked with them. Her nipples were still hard, so Ollie ignored it.

"Okay, who gets what first?" He wanted the pussy first, it just seemed more sanitary to get it before P.C. did.

"I want her ass."

"You got the ass last time, it's my turn." Ollie didn't know if it was true, didn't care.

"No, you had it last time. It's Tuesday."

"It's Tuesday? Already? I think I missed a haircut appointment."

"Guys! Remember me! Wet pussy? Big boobs? Helllooooo!"

"Did you? Whatever. So it's my ass tonight."

Ollie considered the problem. "We could do a switch kind of thing."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we can start in the mouth and pussy, swap places, and then we can each have a stab at the ass."

"I can't believe this. You two are nuts, you know that?"

"Shut up, Muff, can't you see we're busy?"

"Oh good gawd." She crossed her arms under her breasts and tried to glare at both of them.

"That could work. All right, your idea, you get the ass first." P.C. clapped his hands together.

"Works for me. Let's get started."

"Wait! Where do we cum?"

"Face?"

"No, she looks pissed already. Let's do the tits."

"Sounds good."

"3 foot no cock zone?"

"3 foot no cock zone."

"All right, let's shake on it, then no more personal contact, that's disgusting."

"No, we're naked, so let's thumbs up."

"Okay, thumbs up!"

"Ride the wild Muffin!"

"Where'd she go?"

"I'm right here, I just went to brush my teeth." She bounced onto the bed and tugged at her hair. Ollie hoped she hadn't done something to his toothbrush. She could get vindictive. "Now, are we all done with the Magna Carta here? I need to be reminded why I don't trade you two in on bisexual models."

P.C. pointed at his cock. Arrogant bastard. "That's why."

He was also a brave son of a bitch. You had to admire a guy who'd stick his dick in Muffin's mouth when she was annoyed. Ollie climbed around behind her, tugging her ass to a more comfortable level. He slid his fingers into her pussy and played with it. Wet wasn't good enough for him, drenched and dripping was all he would accept. P.C. could sit around and talk about four-fifty-fours, Snap-On, and crankshafts with her until hell froze over. A doctor's clever fingers and knowledge of anatomy beat that all to hell.

The slurping sounds she made on P.C.'s dick were incredibly obscene. He held her head and wiggled his ass a little, clearly enjoying her lips. Ollie wondered if she was doing that thing with her teeth again. Then again, he didn't wonder, P.C.'s dick was in there. Muff had her ass dancing around like a drunken Cajun listening to Zydeco. Ollie smiled to himself and slid his cock right inside. He wondered how long it would take him to make her spit P.C's dick out to scream his name.

He found her g-spot with the head of his dick and her clit with two of his fingers. Her pussy squeezed him; inviting him to stroke in deeper. He gave into the urge for a few moments of rapid thrusting, then went back to rubbing all of her good spots. P.C. was really getting into the blowjob if his grunting was anything to go by. This would be sweet. Muff's ass was doing the rhumba already, a few more seconds and–

"Ollieee!" She spit P.C.'s cock out and screamed his name. She thrashed around, trying to shove his dick deeper inside. He pulled it out instead, he'd cum if she did that. He used his fingers until the howling died down.

"You rat bastard, how do you do that?"

Ollie grinned. "I took anatomy in college. You were doing what, drinking? Partying? Taking underwater basket weaving?"

"Just shut the fuck up. Switch."

Keeping a wary eye on P.C., he crawled around her body clockwise. They'd come to that agreement months ago and it seemed to work. He waved his cock under her nose and she gave it a kiss. P.C. was staring at her pussy like he'd never seen one before. Probably inspecting it for illegal cum leaks. He seemed satisfied with whatever he saw and slid his dick inside. She squealed and backed her butt against him, wriggling. Ollie closed his eyes when she sucked his cock deep into her mouth. She made the sexiest noises when she slurped on his dick.

He'd always thought that teeth were the worst thing to bring into a blowjob, but Muffin loved scraping hers all over the skin of his cock. It probably would have hurt if her mouth hadn't made his dick so wet. What made the rhythmic feel of her teeth delicately dragging themselves down the length of his cock was the incredibly seductive suction she managed to get going back up again. How she did that with P.C. pounding into her body, he never knew. Didn't really want to, actually.

She slipped her fingers between his legs and brushed them over his balls. She wandered all over their surface and then brought her palm up to cup him. One of her fingers moved farther back, just beyond the sac and pushed against him. He groaned, forgetting all about P.C. fucking away at the other end of her. His blood roared in his ears and his dick throbbed. He knew he was supposed to have a go at her ass and then cum on her tits. That was the agreement. The head of his dick pressed against the back of her throat and she purred. He felt the vibration from the leaking tip all the way to his teeth. Fuck the agreement. He slid his hands into her hair, pulling her. She understood, or he was already too far gone, and redoubled her efforts on his cock. A few minutes– or was it seconds?-- of that and he was pouring his cum down her throat. She swallowed reflexively, sucking on him. He felt like she was pulling all of the tension from his body into hers.

Ollie sprawled on her bed, taking up the side where she had her hands. P.C. was still a good three feet away. He closed his eyes, drifting in the haze of post-orgasmic languor. He ignored P.C.'s indignant sputtering.

"Goddammit! You asshole! How am I supposed to kiss her now? She's going to have to gargle Listerine for three days before I can make out with her again."

Ollie grunted and wiggled a hand. The bed was rocking and squealing its protests at the sexual marathon P.C. was indulging himself in. Again. The rocking was soothing enough for him to drift off a little. Sleep was impossible. A guy couldn't sleep on Muff's bed when they were fucking. P.C. sent her off into another screaming fit. She clawed at the blankets and bit him on the ass. She didn't bite as hard as she used to and immediately stuck her teeth elsewhere, but still. "Aren't you finished yet?"

"No-ho," P.C. panted. His pelvis slapped against her ass like the rapid fire chatter of a woodpecker. "She's got another one in there."

"Just don't let her bite my ass again, will ya? You take the teeth."

"At least I waited until she was done sucking your dick before I sent her off. She coulda bit mine off, you know." P.C.'s rhythm slowed and changed. The bed whined. The circular motion made Ollie's stomach rebel.

Muff started grunting. That was the precursor to the full-bodied, incoherent wailing that came right before the ear-drum shattering howl. Ollie hoped the neighbor didn't call the cops again. Mrs. Augustino watched too much TV. She was convinced that they were over here doing nasty S&M things to Muff and torturing the hell out of her. P.C. claimed that the woman had never had an orgasm in her life. Ollie doubted she'd ever had sex.

There was nothing wrong with Muffin's vocal chords. She howled something he couldn't decipher and reared up, backing against P.C.. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pounded into her with everything he had. Her claws went after whatever she could reach and she tried to sink her teeth into his cheek. He saw it coming fast enough to avoid it. Any minute now he would grunt like an asphyxiating horse and–

"Fuck, Muff!" P.C. ground out. He stiffened, jerking. Ollie was nearly bounced out of the bed. Once they were finished, P.C. rolled them both onto the bed. He muttered something, smacked his lips and went to sleep. Muff sighed.

Ollie waited for a few minutes, listening to P.C.'s deep, even breathing. He couldn't believe that the man was two orgasms up on him. "Muffin?"