The Photo Shoot

Chapter 3: Amy

Fantasy is such a moving force, like E=MC2. The first time I was introduced to Michael's brother was at our graduation. It was as if I'd been struck by a thunderbolt. Tall, blonde, extremely good-looking in his uniform, a pair of bars on his shoulders. I could have thrown him on the ground and fucked his brains out right then and there... and at that time I'd never even seen his cock.

But he was married and his wife was movie star gorgeous. He got shipped off to Iraq. Michael and I got married soon thereafter. End of fantasy. End of story.

Not quite.

David came home from Iraq and found out his wife had been fucking her boss, that she'd gotten knocked up, and that whatever the two of them had together was gone. That was when he moved in with us. It was time to revisit my fantasy. But how? I just knew it would always be nothing more than imagination, a fantasy. Still, sometimes when Michael and I were making love, I imagined it was David inside of me, kissing me, filling me with his sperm. Those nights I could orgasm over and over again at just the thought.

He was understandably moody, especially when he had to go through the divorce process. The three of us would sometimes talk for hours about the crap her lawyers would sling at him. He could be in a horrid mood for a couple of days afterwards.

Then there were those days he'd come back from a flight. He flew air refueling tankers and would talk about how beautiful it was to be in the clouds at sunset, or see lightning strikes turn thunderheads into paper lanterns. We could usually find him in the pool on those days. He always wore Speedos; he had the kind of body that could get away with it. And he had the full package.

There was no plot to have sex with him; if it was going to happen, it would happen, and I was certain it never would. Other than I don't wear a bra, I never dressed provocatively when he was around. Never any sexual innuendo or flirtatious conversations. I was usually in jeans and tee shirt, occasionally a skirt and blouse for something special, but those times were rare.

So I was certain it would never happen. Until it happened that evening in the jacuzzi.

We'd all had a few glasses of wine, the jacuzzi was hot, and we were all a little toasted. Michael got out to use the bathroom. While he was gone I kissed David. Not a sisterly kiss on the forehead or cheek, but a full, hot, on the lips, French kiss.

I don't know who was more surprised, him or me. I had just opened a forbidden door, THE forbidden door.

"I wish you hadn't done that, Amy," he said cooly, "I just can't go there." He started to get out."Michael will be back in a few minutes." There was more than a hint of contempt in his voice.

"Please stay," I begged. I stood up. He'd devoured me with his eyes when I'd gotten into the jacuzzi earlier. I really don't know why Michael had wanted me to wear my 'almost not there' Cal bikini, but his eyes devoured me again. He stood there for a moment, his eyes darting from my breasts to my navel to my crotch. The bulge in his Speedos responded, too. We both sat down facing each other.

"I don't know why I did that," I said, my eyes searching his for answers. My hand wandered up the inside of his thigh. I was tempted to touch the swelling bulge there, but didn't. "I've wanted to take you since the first time I saw you."

"But Amy, he's my..."

I kissed him again. "... brother, I know, but hear me out. It's visceral." I could feel my heart pounding. "I love Michael to the ends of the earth, but you're..."

"... I don't think I can..." but even as he was saying it, his hand was on my knee and moving upwards. I cupped his growing bulge in the palm of my hand and held it there.

"... you're the forbidden fruit, the unscratchable itch..." I kissed him again and rubbed the erection bulging out from his Speedos with palm of my hand.

His hands told me everything. One touched my face while a finger from the other slid into my pussy. I sucked his thumb as it passed my lips. "I'll come to your room later tonight, when Michael's asleep."

Michael came out with more wine and a cheese tray moments later and I could see he knew something was up, that something had changed in the few minutes he had been gone. It's hard to explain what happened next, and I'm not sure I understand it even now, but the three of us ended up in our bedroom for some of the hottest, lustiest, most incredible sex ever.

But it was after Michael went to sleep that David and I made love. What had happened with the three of us was the visceral part I had wanted. What happen a few hours later was the tender, sensual part, the slow making out, bodies touching, the quick quiet gasps. The emotional part where a man and a woman discover more than how their bodies react to one another.

The three of us had actually drifted off to sleep, David spooning me and me spooning Michael. I woke up. Well, not really, it was sort of that half dreamy state between sleep and awake. I started to masturbate, some of David's cum lubricating my fingertip. It didn't take long for me to get quite wet and come close to an orgasm.

David was pressed against me, the head of his limp penis nestled near the bottom of my pussy. I could feel it there. I moved my hips back toward him a few inches, coated my finger with my juices, and teased the head of his cock until I could feel it become erect.

He caressed my breast as he teased a nipple. "What are you doing to me?" he asked, only half awake. I didn't answer. His cock continued to respond. He moved down a little on the bed, I repositioned myself slightly and slid his fully erect cock into my wet slit.

Our tempo was slow and sensual, both of us half asleep and barely moving. I knew he was a long way from cumming but I wasn't. My orgasm was hanging by a thread. I needed more of him to make it happen.

I turned over to face him. "Get on top of me," I whispered as we kissed. I spread my legs wide, careful not to awaken Michael. The head of his rigid manhood slid easily past my swollen lips. I was very wet.

He laid on top of me, his body pressed close to mine, my arms around his broad shoulders, his chest crushing my breasts. We started kissing, gently biting, each teasing the other's lips with our tongues and teeth.

"You are so tight, baby," he whispered softly, "you don't know how good this feels."

"Oh yeah, I think I know, lover," I whispered back. "because you're about to make me cum." Our tempo remained slow, his cock barely moving inside of me. The voltage in the back of my brain and in my loins was building. But I didn't want it to end. "Keep it slow David, it feels so good I want it to last."

Slow didn't reduce the voltage. It kept building and building until the spark went off. "I'm cumming David," I quietly hissed through my teeth, "oh god David, I'm cumming. Just keep fucking me baby, slow, oh god..." He cut off my dialogue with a deep probing kiss. I wrapped my legs around his thighs and put both hands on his ass to push him deeper, and I kept on cumming.

And he kept on slowly sliding his cock in and out of my pussy. The voltage never left. It was all I could do to stop the primal scream lingering in my brain.

"My turn," he whispered finally. He groaned. His back arched, his body stiffened, and his throbbing cock delivered still more streams of his thick white seed-filled semen into my hungry wonton cunt.

We kissed in the afterglow of our lovemaking, then drifted back to sleep, he spooned up against me and me spooned up against Michael.

In the morning I gave David a blowjob while Michael fucked me doggie style. That's his favorite position. I swallowed David when he gave me his cum, and Michael gave me his deep in my pussy.

We got up, showered, had breakfast, and went our separate ways. When we got home that night David was gone.

We were both sad and quite depressed. Our last night together had been the amazing fulfillment of a fantasy, one I had somehow hoped would continue but knew it couldn't. It had been the visceral, animal brain fuck I had fantasized, but then there had been that tender lovemaking early in the morning. I hadn't anticipated any emotional involvement to complicate things. I'm not sure if, were David to come back again soon, I wouldn't go to bed with him again, and I'm not sure I would want Michael to be there.

Mike and I talked about that night for weeks afterwards. I told him having sex with his brother was a one-time thing, a good-bye present and nothing more: I've never told him it was the fulfillment of my fantasy, certainly not that it might be a white lie. I did tell him that fucking another man and have him cum inside me while he watched was a real turn-on, that it really got me off. I guess I'm just an exhibitionist at heart. Then later, when he told me it had turned him on, that he'd had the same fantasy too: another man fucking me and shooting his load deep in my cunt, well that's when we decided on checking out Craig's List, met Oscar and Mariposa, and opened up the other part of this story.