"What the fuck!"
Sandra's scream was the first thing Lauren and I heard. We missed the sound of her key in the apartment door, the opening and closing of the door, and her footsteps to the open door to the bedroom. In my case that oversight was understandable since I had my face buried in Lauren's pussy with her legs wrapped tightly around my head as the climax my tongue had just driven her to roared through her body. As for Lauren, her failure to hear Sandra's arrival was likewise understandable given the distraction of her shattering orgasm. We were both busy.
Lauren and I stopped what we were doing and looked at Sandra in silence, neither of us having a clue what to say to her. There was a long silence before Lauren spoke up, "You're back early. We didn't expect you."
"So I see," responded Sandra. She paused for a moment.
"I finally had all I could take of my family's never ending holiday entertainment cycle. Even if the party wasn't at our house they expected me to dress up and attend. I felt like I was on display."
"You were on display. You know that's how Jane operates," Lauren responded.
"This morning I decided to come back here. I couldn't take another party."
"Hello," I said.
"But the dorm isn't open yet," Sandra continued ignoring me.
"Yeah I know," I said, still trying to get into the conversation.
"Is that why you are where you are?" Sandra asked, finally seeming to notice me.
"Ahh . . . well . . . partly I guess. It's complicated." Now I was sorry I had spoken up.
Four days had elapsed since I arrived back in Provo after fleeing my debauched family in Eastern Idaho. For Christmas I had planned on going home to the small ranching and farming town well to the north of Idaho Falls where I had grown up only to discover before I got there that my parents had split up (but not divorced), with my Father now living with his lover in Idaho Falls, and my Mother with her lovers, my Uncle Lou (my dad's brother)
and
his wife Sherry, all in the house I was raised in. All five of them were pursuing a convoluted scheme to hide their sexual relationships from the small Mormon community I had grown up in. When my Sister and then each of my parents explained the relationships and secrets hidden from me for years, I realized that the values my parents taught me regarding extra-marital sex were not the values they lived by. I was shocked, but over the long bus ride back to Provo I realized that my parent's duplicity was not that different from what I had learned from Sandra about the double standards of her successful and well-known Salt Lake City family including her hidden relationship with me. Did that make it okay? I was still working on that question when the bus delivered me to Provo.
I had arrived in Provo to learn to my dismay that my University dormitory was closed over Christmas and I had no place to stay with a snowstorm coming on. When I went to the apartment I had been using for a weekly tryst with Sandra during the fall, I found it occupied by her sister-in-law, Lauren, who I knew slightly as an adjunct professor of biology at the University. Lauren, who had a secret second life as a reasonably successful painter of abstract erotic art sold through a new York Gallery under the name Lydia, had introduced me to marijuana (and sex with a married woman) and I had spent most of the last four days having sex with Lauren, in bed and elsewhere throughout the apartment and her adjoining studio. When I wasn't having sex with Lauren or posing in the nude for her in her adjoining studio I had spent my time reading the book on number theory that my Calculus professor had loaned me. I wasn't sure I wanted to explain any of this to my lover Sandra, and I certainly was not in a position to criticize my parent's extramarital activities. I didn't know who held the moral high ground but it certainly wasn't me.
Lauren finally came to my rescue interrupting our confused conversation, "Sandra we need to talk about why you came back early; why I came back early; why he came back early; and some other stuff."
"You mean like this?" Sandra responded pointed at our still tangled, naked, bodies.
"Yeah that too. But there is more and you and I need to talk about all of it. And Richard here needs to go out for a coffee while we talk. He learned a lot while he was home including that he likes coffee."
"I agree," Sandra said. "There is a lot we need to talk about."
"Coffee? This is Provo. Where the hell am I going to get coffee in this town?" I asked.
Both girls laughed at me. Lauren said, "Go about 10 blocks south of here on University and there is shabby looking motel. It has an espresso machine in a room behind the lobby. It's a bit like a speakeasy and they may or may not want to admit it exists depending on who is on the desk. But if you ask for the manager and tell him I sent you they will let you in. You can't drink it in the lobby but there's a bar and some stools in the room where they make the coffee. You can read your math book there while Sandra and I talk."
I didn't have a clue what espresso was, but I assumed it had something to do with coffee and it was clear both women wanted me out of the way. Whether they would ever let me back in was another question.
"Is it still snowing out?" I asked Sandra.
"No the storm quit two days ago."
"Oh, we haven't been outside much," I said.
"At all," Lauren elaborated.
Sandra just smiled and shook her head. I got dressed and headed out in search of the second cup of coffee of my life.
I stayed away for two hours consuming three cups of espresso while I read about numbers theory to distract myself from worrying about my families morality and my fate with Sandra and Lauren and my morality. I also incurred the first coffee buzz of my life. When I returned the living room was empty but as I closed the door I heard Sandra's voice from the bedroom. "In the bedroom Richard. We need to talk. Take your clothes off and get in bed with me."
I stripped my clothes off and slid into bed with Sandra. It hadn't been snowing out but early January in Utah can be seriously cold. I put an arm across Sandra and pulled her towards me. "My God you're cold," she screeched.
"I know but you are deliciously warm and I need you to save me."
"This is not a Church meeting Richard. No 'saving' goes on here."
"I just meant hypothermia, not my soul."
"Good. I'm glad you're clear on that." She wrapped her arms and legs around me while she mashed her chest against mine. We lay in silence like that for several minutes. As I felt my body heat returning, I also felt my cock come to life. It was pressed against her thigh.
"You said we need to talk?"
"Later. Right now we need to fuck." She slid down and enveloped my half-engorged cock into her wet warm mouth.
"Oh yes. I'm so glad you're back," I said.
"So Lauren wasn't enough for you?"
Oh shit. She's pissed, I thought. Well I wasn't going to lie. "Lauren's a wild woman in bed and she's a fascinating person, but . . . she's not you. I missed you. I missed our Thursday nights."
"Just don't tell me you missed trying to make me understand calculus." Then she went back to sucking my cock, ignoring anything I said until it was fully erect. She rolled to her back and said, "Okay you're saved now put it in me."
"Just like that? No foreplay? You said you wanted to talk?"
"We can talk later. I need you now. I want you to fuck me Richard. Fuck me now. I need it. I'll explain later."
So we did. I climbed between her legs and slid my cock into her. She was right. She was more than ready: warm; wet; and aggressive. There was no slow gentle fucking. Every time I slowed my pace she growled, "Harder. Faster. Fuck me Richard. Fuck me harder. Make me cum and talk dirty to me Richard. Call me a slut, a whore, a cunt. Whatever else you can think of."
We changed positions repeatedly, eventually winding up in my favorite with Sandra face down, head on her forearms, and her butt in the air and me on my knees behind her, my cock buried to the hilt in her cunt and my hands gripping her ass. She always said fucking in that position made her feel nasty and dirty—and that was why she liked it. Her hot, wet, cunt felt so fucking good as my cock slid in and out. I had no difficulty staying hard, but there was no sense of impending orgasm for me. This was solely for Sandra with me pounding her hard, calling her lewd and obscene names, and slapping her ass repeatedly.
"Oh fuck that's it Richard. That's it. Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't you fucking dare stop." My thighs banged against her ass on each thrust, my cock making a lewd squishing sound as it piled in and out of her soggy, wet, cunt. It was clear she wanted, or perhaps she felt she needed, a hard fucking.
"Is that what you came back early for, you horny slut. You couldn't get any cock at home and you wanted it. So you came back just to fuck me. You did. Didn't you, you slut?" I slapped her hard on both cheeks of her ass. "Answer me," I demanded. "That's why you're here isn't it, to get laid?"
"Oh fuck yes. That feels so good. But there's more. I could have got laid by lots of guys while I was home, but it was you I wanted. I 'll explain later. Just keep fucking me now.
"Oh god yes. That's so good, So fucking good. Oh shit I'm gonna cum I'm . . ." When she came it was with a loud scream. Her cunt was squeezing my cock repeatedly and she groaned as each wave of her orgasm tore through her. When finished she collapsed to the side, taking me with her, we fell into a spoon position, my still rigid cock buried in her lightly spasming cunt. She was sobbing and soon rolled away on to her back. I could see tears streaming down her face as her chest heaved with her sobbing.
"Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?"
"No. No. It was good. So fucking good. It's just . . ."
"Just what? What is it Sandra. Are you upset with me because of Lauren?"
"No it's not Lauren. That's not it at all. I knew that was going to happen. Not this week I mean because you were still in Idaho I thought. But I knew Lauren would seduce you sooner or later. That's her. She just does that sort of thing. The whole family just accepts it. We know she is going to fuck any man she finds interesting and we just ignore it so long as she is discreet about it."
"Then . . . what . . .? What are you crying about?"
"It's you. It's us. We're so good."
"And that's bad? Why is that bad?"
"Because we have to stop. I can't see you anymore and I'm in love with you."
"Wait. Wait," I said. There's a lot to unpack here, I thought. Where to start?
We were sitting up now staring at each other across the bed. Sandra was wiping the tears from her eyes, using the corner of a sheet to wipe them from her face.
"You told me not to fall in love with you," I said.
