Messenger Girl

Part 1 - Cheerleaders on the Beach

We hid behind clumps of tall grass along the bluffs overlooking the beach. The summer night was warm, nearly moonless and inviting. Cody spread a beach blanket. This wasn't the first time I'd had sex near the shoreline, but it had always been deserted. Tonight there were dozens of people wandering along the strand. It seemed so dangerous and stupid for the two of us to start fucking right there, but it was something I could not possibly resist.

I stripped off my shorts and then panties, laying them on top of my flip-flops. My camisole remained on.

"No, you have to get naked," Cody insisted in a nearly inaudible voice.

I made a face that said how hesitant I was with the idea and pouted just enough to say how sexy his insistence was for me. At last, I untied the straps and in the pale light my nipples joined with the salty air. I felt free, sexual and nervous. I giggled as I ran my hands over my breasts, tempting Cody to enjoy their newly found freedom with his lips.

In the back of my mind, I wondered what the penalties for public indecency might be. I'd heard rumors that the self-professed morally upstanding members of our community had wanted to list such offenses in newspapers and online as a way of publicly shaming the overly amorous.

I pushed it entirely out of my mind when I saw the outline of Cody's penis near my face. He kissed me and I ran my hand over his chest. He was as naked as me. My heart was still beating from our forbidden excitement.

We were nestled comfortably a good fifteen feet above the beach and I could smell the illegal bonfires that people tended in defiance of local ordinance. In the last few years, a few assholes had been inconsiderate enough as to provoke excuses from our civic leaders to ban so many of the simple joys of rights of seashore life. Drinking too was outlawed, although I still detected the scent of beer and liquor wafted vaguely in the slight breeze. My senses were so acute that evening, as if I was especially alive, that I felt as if I were taking in everything in my proximity.

I heard voices and laughter coming from those on the sand below us; some so close that I could hear exactly what they were saying. It was mostly the mundane utterance of people enjoying a balmy evening listening to the waves crash onto the shoreline as they tossed more kindling onto their impromptu lawless fire pits. In an odd way, I felt a fellowship with these rebels. We were silently telling those who had declared themselves as our local authorities and overlords that we would not be denied the few scraps of fundamental pleasure an evening and place such as this had to offer.

My poetically waxing interpretation of the night was disrupted when I felt Cody's erection pressing against my lips and my mind turned toward using my tongue to stimulate its circumcised tip. I traced the groove that led to the very tip and followed it down to the ridge that circles the upper portion. I waited for him to shudder as I made repeated orbits. Cody always quivered when he becomes completely engrossed in sexual yearning due to my oral skills. I took him deeply into my mouth. I could see the narrow sliver of moonlight outlining his chest, but not his face. I pictured a broad silly grin that I loved so much.

We caressed each other as we lay prone on our shared blanket hidden by the vegetation from prying eyes. His hands fumbled in the dark as he searched down my belly and traveled toward my hairless muff. He knew how to locate it easily without benefit of light. Cody had found it in the dark and even blindfolded many times. He was toying with me and the agony of waiting for his caress of my clitoris was becoming nearly unbearable.

"Touch me," I whispered breathlessly, "Please, stroke it."

Cody loved it when I begged for gratification. He understood my libido and he accurately accommodated my desires. I shivered as the electricity of his touch met my infatuated button. I managed to suppress a call of frenzy, least I alert the assembly of beach revelers to our wicked activities.

The excitement of the situation was enough foreplay that I was ready for fornication almost instantly. I spread my legs and said, "Take me right now, I can't wait any longer."

I shivered as he entered me and I felt the cheeks of my ass squash into the soft sand below me. I pictured an indent in the exact shape of my butt, as it seemed to dig itself deeper and deeper with every thrust of Cody's body on top of me. I wrapped my legs around him and enjoyed the rocking that seemed timed to the cadence of the ocean's beakers splashing before us. It was as though we were in perfect synchronization with nature itself, as his cock rubbed inside of my dripping slit.

It was then that I heard a voice from the shore. It was strangely familiar, yet in a haze from the distant past. I looked through the tangle of grasses and other assorted foliage toward the beach below us. There stood Cheryl Lynn Higgins in all her splendor.

Cheryl Lynn was a girl I'd known back in my high school days, now removed by nearly a decade. In truth, I doubt she would have remembered my name even one second past our graduation ceremony. Cheryl Lynn was the popular girl. She was head cheerleader and presided over her court of admiring subjects at the lunch table every day.

This may surprise no one; I on the other hand, was not in with the popular crowd. I was one of the oddball girls the others kids make fun of. I didn't fit in with the pretty blond set with the boys fawning over them. In fact, most of the other students circulated devastating rumors about me, with Cheryl as one of the principle sources of "knowledge" about my alleged depravities.

I spent the final two years of high school mostly ostracized and working upon developing lifelong emotional scars and social complexes.

How could I be sure it was Cheryl Lynn? She and a half dozen other women stood upon the water hardened sands in their old cheerleader outfits, as she led them in practicing our old alma mater football fight song.

"OK, let's go Pirates. You're the swashbucklers of the field." Cheryl Lynn was actually saying those embarrassingly bad chants in public. She stood proudly on her right leg balancing, as her other leg bent and arched so that her left foot made contact with the knee joint. The others waved their arms and repeated the mantra.

Her perfect blond coif looked exactly the same as the night she's been declared home coming queen. My god, how I hated her that evening. I didn't even get an invite to prom. I rode my bicycle home after the big game instead. The only good thing about the entire night is that our team narrowly lost at the last minute.

Cody's tongue entered my mouth and I came back to the present day. The movements of his cock began to pick up speed and his thrusts grew more intense. I came, but fought to muffle my normally brashly enthusiastic verbal affirmation. I half wanted to shout it loudly enough that Cheryl Lynn could hear me, as if to say, I'm being fucked on the beach by the man I love and you are living out memories of your long past twelfth grade glory days.

I felt Cody ejaculate inside me. More importantly, at the same time I felt much of the teenage insecurities I carried as a burden began to fade. Those years of failures and feeling of not fitting in were now as meaningless as the calisthenics Cheryl Lynn and her posse were now preforming before an indifferent crowd more concerned with their own lives on the beach this warm evening.

As we dressed and prepared to leave, I realized this may have been the best sex I'd ever experienced up to this point in my life. I kissed Cody passionately and he asked, "What was that for?"

"You lucked into an unforgettably romantic evening, mister."

Part 2 - The Messenger Service

A week later, I sat in bed with my girlfriend, Mackenzie. We had just enjoyed a girl's night out at a dance club and had make love to one another. I decided to share the details of my experience with Cody on the beach.

Like me, Mackenzie had been one of those girls regarded with suspicion and consigned to the social rejects pile of high school life, although at a different institution and senior class. She listened to my story with rapt attention, asking for details about the cheerleading queen.

"This Cheryl Lynn character was actually wearing her old Jersey Dress? The one with the little ruffle skirt?"

She laughed in delight when I affirmed the facts, pressing me for every sordid detail and the feeling I'd experienced. It was as if she were living the night vicariously through me. Her arms wrapped tightly around me. She kissed me with an amazing emotionally charged vigor. She was clearly turned on by the story.

Mackenzie had changed a lot since her professed ugly duckling high school days and it showed in a self-confidence that had dozens of other women throwing themselves at her. She was strictly lesbian and made no bones about it. She'd hit a point in life, where she'd decided to avoid even dating bisexual women, but I was persistent enough to secure some intimate dates and we've been together for over a year.

She was thin with small yet well proportioned breasts and had a sleeve of tattoos on her upper right arm and bicep of flowers and vines that set her apart. Her hair was a short bob of silken black hair, which accentuated her icy blue eyes. It was mainly those soft pouty lips of hers that attracted me. Eventually, we both knew our relationship was doomed, since I'm committed to Cody, but for as long as I could make it last, Mackenzie is everything I wanted in a female lover.

We moved into a sixty nine position and her tongue, lips and mouth went to work between my legs with an unrestrained action we hadn't experienced in months. She came for me quickly and squealed with brazen delight.

Minutes later she brought me to the very pinnacle of orgasmic pleasure, but refused to back off on her manipulation of my tender clitoris. Her tongue entered my vulva and retreated only to stimulate my clit again before disappearing into my hole once more.

I grabbed at her legs as I seized from another powerful climax and I moaned at the top of my lungs. I struggled to catch my breath. I nearly blacked-out twenty minutes later from the intensity, when Mackenzie took me to a unprecedented third splurge.

As we lay recovering and kissing, Mackenzie asked more questions about Cody's love making that night. She never inquired about him, but now it excited her to hear all the specifics of his amorous beach escapade with me. I'd always assumed she harbored a slight jealousy toward the straight side of my life, but now she was engrossed.

As I prepared to leave for home, Mackenzie emerged from the bathroom, still naked, but wearing a bright shade of red lipstick I'd never seen her use before. She loved to dress girly and usually wore makeup when we went out, but tended toward more subdued colors.

She kissed me above my pubic mound, leaving a lip mark in bold red. "Don't wash that off until you get home and Cody sees it," she instructed me.

She had me turn around and using a marker, wrote something upon the small of my back, yet refused to tell me what it said. Instead, I was given the explanation, "This message is strictly for Cody."

She laughed as I dressed, self-satisfied with her secret communique.

My love making with Cody after I'd returned from a date with Mackenzie was always extraordinary. He claimed he could taste her saliva on my clit and it excited him to know I'd recently made love to another woman. I hesitated to think of the workout my clit still had coming to it for the rest of the night.

Cody grew to a near fever pitch of excitement upon seeing Mackenzie's lip marks above my genitalia. I faced away and presented him with my lady lover's dispatch. He told me it read: "Well played, sir. I salute you. M"

Two full hours later, I lay in the bed exhausted and sore. I'd lost track of the number of orgasms I'd experienced that night. At the very least I achieved a half dozen, but doubt it could have been over ten.

Two weeks later, I prepared for a Friday night out with Mackenzie. Cody entered the bedroom with a marker pen and insisted upon writing a note on my back 'for Mackenzie'. I protested, but he insisted it was only fair. I relented and couriered his dispatch to my girlfriend.

Upon seeing it later that night, she read it to me, "Admire your work. K luvs having clit sucked into mouth. C."

My face went a pale shade of red with embarrassment, but Mackenzie demonstrably became more aroused as she pushed me onto her bed and proceeded to ravage me orally. She totally stole Cody's technique of drawing my clit into her mouth, but added her own technique of playing with it inside of her mouth with the tip of her tongue.

Whatever embarrassment I might have felt was rapidly forgotten as I experienced a blinding series of concentrated orgasms in rapid succession.

The two of us lay naked together carousing in the afterglow of our intimacy, I said, "I'm not sure how much more stimulation my clit can stand tonight. You've pretty much worn me out, Sweetie."

"It's no problem. I have an idea for you," Mackenzie said as she rolled me over, before writing something on the cheeks of my ass. She applied more of her red lipstick, but this time made a series of marks that led from my mound of Venus across my right hip and over onto my ass. I was sent home and told that it was for 'Cody's eyes only'.

A half hour later, the miniskirt that served as Mackenzie's envelope was removed and Cody followed the trail of red kisses toward my backside.

"It says: 'This is a job only you can handle. M'." Cody said with a broad ear to ear grin. An arrow pointed from the note to just above my asshole.

My rectum was summarily lubricated and my husband proceeded to sodomize me for the next hour. Even though I'm a huge fan of anal intercourse, I only cum on rare occasions as a direct result of the Greek methodology, but this night, given all else that had occurred, I came twice.

For me, there has always been something primal and delightfully forbidding about having a cock enter my rectum. It gives me a sense of complete submission to my lover, when I feel a man's penis being pushed up my tight asshole. Cody is a masterful performer of the practice. He entered me that night as I straddled a pillow with my ass up. He pushed into me in a series of gentle intrusions and then began sliding in and out, as his fingertips independently stimulated my clitoris. My first climax was achieved quickly, as I thought of Mackenzie having been the primary instigator of me taking it up the ass. I screamed as I came and imagined myself sucking on her enchanting breasts simultaneously.

Cody continued upon working away at my anus and I relaxed thinking I was simply going to enjoy the feel of his member rocking my bottom until he came. His movements continued and his hands moved away from my crotch, when I said, "My clit has had enough play for the night. Enjoy yourself, Babe."

To my complete surprise, I began to build towards another orgasm simply from the anal stimulus. It wasn't as powerful as the original, but was totally independent from my little man in the boat. "Oh, yeah, I'm going again. Keep pumping, Sweetie."

Cody increased his rhythm and he came shortly after I did. We held each other and were both completely spent. I'd need most of the day on Sunday to recover from this much sex. As I was cradled in my husband's arms, it occurred to me, it was as if Mackenzie had been ass fucking me herself.

Dildo play had never been a part of the love making between Mackenzie and me, much less her using one in my rectum. However, it was almost as if she'd been on the other end of the cock that had been ramming my asshole for the last half hour.

Then the thought occurred to me, it wasn't her fucking my ass. She and Cody were engaged in anal intercourse and I was just the conduit between the two of them. Granted, the sex had been great. I'd cum more than I had tonight, than in weeks' worth of even spectacular sex. Still, I was jealous of how the two to them had by proxy engaged in sex through me. I went to sleep and pondered the concept.

The next day, after a prolonged rest, I phoned Mackenzie. "I know this sounds weird, but you've got to stop fucking my husband. It bothers me."

"I've never met your husband. Besides I'm gay. I'd have no interest."

"He ass-fucked you for a half hour last night. It was through me. Didn't you feel it?" I had to explain that statement, but in the end, she admitted it aroused her to communicate sex acts thru me with Cody. Cody eventually admitted to the same thing.

For me, the situation was getting too weird. It was almost as if my two lovers were cheating on me without ever having gotten together.

Things went back to the way they been, but I could tell Mackenzie was beginning to lose interest in me. My messengering sex service may have staved off the inevitable, but that isn't how I wanted to please either of my partners. Maybe it was time for her to move on and find the relationship she always said she was looking for.

It took me a couple of weeks for me to completely mentally forgive Cody for my perception of his disloyalty, even though he never actually cheated on me with another woman. I guess I am possessive of my man, even if it doesn't completely make sense. No one ever said love was fair.

~ The End ~