Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Second Best
Part: 107
Universe: Second Best
Summary: A full-length novel that follows several young couples and their
families through the period immediately preceding their Senior Prom.
Keywords: MF mf oral

Keywords for full story:  F-solo, Ff-inc, M+F Ffm MF mf oral anal bd D/s Mg-
inc Fm-inc mm mmf rom MF-reluc

Chapter 107
A quiet evening at home


      Big Al McCormick was, basically, at peace - for the moment.  He and
Helen hadn't done much once the kids were away - just a bit of dinner (Helen
had apparently found everything in the kitchen, but he tried to help out,
anyway) and a quiet evening in front of the TV.  Al sat on the couch
(something he NEVER did) with Helen leaning against him.  Eventually, she
had stretched out with her head on his lap, and he had mauled her chest in
an idle manner, without receiving any complaints, for an hour or so.

      When the eleven o'clock news came on, Helen sighed, "This is
wonderful!  Thank God I didn't have to work!"  And THAT triggered Al's
nagging sense that something wasn't quite perfect.

      Al went still, and Helen glanced at him to determine what was wrong,
but his face revealed nothing.  Finally, he said abruptly, "I don't want you
to work!"

      "Sorry?" Helen asked, somewhat confused.

      "I don't think you ought to work!" Al repeated the declaration.

      "I'm not thrilled, either, but I have a family to feed," Helen
replied, in a tone that implied that she was belaboring the obvious.

      "Not necessarily.  I can handle the income.  You can do the domestic
stuff," Al grunted.

      "Al, I have a house, a car, and two daughters.  I have to work." Helen
replied pedantically.

      "No, dammit, you don't!  I'd be happy to support you and the girls.
After we're married..."

      "After we're what?!" Helen gasped.

      "After we're married," Al resumed, rolling his eyes, "you can run this
place as you see fit.  There's no need for you to go off and wait tables at
that restaurant.  I can keep us comfortably."

      "Al, what's this marriage thing?  We're not ready for marriage!" Helen
declared, scowling.  "Both of us have been alone all this time - you don't
just undo that in a week or two!  What makes you think we're ready to get
married?"

      Big Al scowled.  "I'M ready for marriage!  I, personally, don't want
to sleep under a different roof than you ever again!  But if you're not," he
wound down, "I guess we can live in sin for awhile..."

      "Al, what's wrong?  What's this all about?" Helen asked, exasperated.

      "What's wrong?  That's simple!  Tomorrow morning, you're going to pack
your overnight case and walk out that door.  And I'll either have to wheedle
my way in at your place, or twist your arm to get you back here tomorrow
night!" Al ranted.  "I don't want to have to make excuses to see my woman!
I want her RIGHT HERE in arms reach, EVERY GODDAMN NIGHT!"

      "Al," Helen tried to be reasonable, "we have a wonderful thing going
here.  We're nicely attuned, and God knows the sex is wonderful!  But we
both have independent lives, independent responsibilities!  And sooner or
later, some other woman will catch your eye, and having me taking up space
in your bedroom will become highly inconvenient.  Can't you see that?"

      "Grrrrrr!" Al growled in fury!  He leaped up, bowled Helen over flat
on the couch, and leaped onto her pinning her wrists above her head.  "Now
listen to ME, you silly bitch!  I am NOT your first husband!  There will NOT
be another woman, 'cause I ain't LOOKING for another woman!  I ain't looking
for another woman 'cause I LOVE YOU!  Why the FUCK would I look ANYWHERE
ELSE?"

      Helen was stupefied!  "Al, Honey, it's okay..." she placated.

      "No, goddamn it, it is NOT okay!  How many goddamn times do I have to
tell you that you're the most beautiful goddamn woman I've ever seen before
you believe it?"  Al sucked in a breath, sobbed, "What do I have to do?"

      Helen stared in wonder at Al, whose craggy face had turned blotchy as
tears sprang from his eyes.  One trickled down his nose and dripped onto her
neck. "Ohmigod!" she husked.  The implications hit Helen like a slow moving
freight train!  Al was many things, but an actor wasn't one of them!  If he
was this worked up, disbelief was not an option  "Okay, Love, I believe
you!" she husked, I'm convinced - gimme my hands back!"

      Al let go, and made to rise, but Helen pulled him down into an
embrace.  "I'm sorry, Love, I just couldn't believe it," she murmured, "I
couldn't afford to - being wrong would have been too painful.  But I believe
you now."  Above her, Al shuddered in her embrace, sobbing.  The emotional
storm carried her with it, and she wet Al's neck with her own tears as she
buried her face in his shoulder.

      After a bit, Big Al mastered himself, and arose.  Helen watched him,
realizing that this was an uncommon event; such emotion was something Big Al
was unaccustomed to displaying.  He reached in is pocket and fished out a
small box of a type unmistakable, and placed it on the coffee table in front
of Helen's eyes.  Then he turned his head away and spoke in a muffled voice
from a still-tight throat, "When you're ready, you can put that on, and
we'll set a date.  Until then, I'm gonna harass you about moving under my
roof EVERY GODDAMN DAY until you agree to that, at least.  That's the way it
is.  Okay?"

      "Okay," Helen replied quietly.  Al turned back to gauge her
seriousness, and nodded to himself at what he saw.  After a moment, Helen's
eyes were drawn to the box.  Glancing back at Al, she gingerly collected it
from the table and carefully opened it.  "Ohmigod!  It's HUGE!" she gasped.
And it was - the ring's center stone had to be a full carat, and there were
two other substantial stones flanking it!  "It's incredible!" she cried,
gazing at the ring in wonder.

      Al knelt, visibly holding himself in.  The temptation to say "Put it
on!" was strong, but Helen needed to come to that decision herself.  So he
waited, hands clenching and unclenching.

      Helen looked up and locked eyes with Al, drew a breath, and removed
the ring from the box.  Without looking at it, she positioned it for
placement upon her finger.  Very clearly, eyes still locked with Al's she
announced, "Yes!" then slid the ring into place.  It was a bit loose; Helen
was surprised and disgusted with herself over the satisfaction that the
thought 'Obviously, it's not a hand-me-down from his first wife' brought.

      Al had stopped breathing at the moment Helen had pulled the ring free
from the box.  Would she put it back?  Could he live with the disappointment
if she did?  Could he handle 'Soon, but not yet?'  Helen's single word of
acceptance struck as hard - or harder - than rejection would have.  Tears
poured down his cheeks, but joy had replaced frustration as the cause, and
he pinned her again, this time kissing and nibbling at everything within
reach.  "Baby, you don't know..." he murmured brokenly, between kisses laved
on her neck.  In seconds, it seemed, he was incredibly worked up!  "I've got
to have you, NOW!" he declared.

      Helen drew back in mock irritation.  "Hey!  I'm your woman, not a
piece of meat!"

      Al stopped instantly and got up.  "Sorry!" he apologized, "Guess I got
a little bit carried away.  But..."

      "You big silly lug!" Helen laughed, "I was kidding!  Get undressed, I
want to feel you inside me!"  She reached down and snatched off her blouse,
freeing her huge tits.

      "So!  You're gonna mess with me!" Al roared, "I'm just gonna have to
remind you just why it is that you're my woman!  I'm gonna wear your ass
out, if it kills me!" He began tearing his way out of his clothes.

      Helen, laughing, thumbed her nose and blew a raspberry at him as she
shucked out of her skirt and panties.  "It'll kill you - you'll never last!"

      "We'll see about THAT!" Al declared and grabbed Helen's thighs,
spreading them and sliding his face in between.  "Yes, we will!"  He went to
work on Helen's furry gash with a vengeance, starting with wide flat swipes
from anus to clit, then working individually on her labia.

      "Uh oh!"  Helen gasped, "You're cheating!  I thought... you were
just...going to...use your...cock..."  Breathing started to be hard to
control as Al went to work on her clit in earnest, switching between
worrying it and driving his tongue into her vaginal canal.

      Al started working Helen's clitoris with his thumb as he rose up to
talk, "No, I just said I'd wear you out!  I plan to use all of the tools at
my disposal!"  With an evil chuckle, he dove back into his work.  Helen
stopped talking and started shaking as the now familiar tingle began to
increase in amplitude.  Her breathing continued labored, and Big Al grinned
as he began to feel that tension in Helen's legs that signaled the onset of
her pre-orgasmic rigidity.

      "NnnnnnnnNNNNNNN!!!!!" Helen groaned inarticulately as her eyeballs
rolled up and she stiffened, arched, and began to spasm.  Al grinned and
guzzled the wash of her lubricant.  Thirty seconds passed, while Helen's
vagina pulsed around Al's tongue before she settled back, limply.

      Al gave no quarter, kneeling up and pressing Helen's knees to her
shoulders, then starting the insertion of his rigid penis.  He drove it a
third of the way, withdrew a bit to spread the lubrication, and went for the
whole length, running dry just short.  Another short withdrawal, and he was
able to bury his full length in her oily depths.  At that point, he set up a
driving rhythm that rolled over Helen, carrying her back to orgasm in under
a minute.

      "Two!" he puffed, grinning as Helen drifted back to reality.  He'd
slowed as soon as she began to try to arch her back, siding his hands under
her shoulders in an effort to keep her from bucking him off at her peak.
Now he idled, moving slowly while Helen caught her breath.

      "Keeping count?" she puffed.  "How far do you intend to go?"

      Al grinned.  "I want you good and worn out!" he replied.

      "Well, let's make it a competition, then!" she chuckled.  Almost
immediately, Al felt the difference; Helen was working her vaginal muscles,
clasping and flexing them in an effort to get Al to lose control!

      It was effective, too!  Al, who had set a leisurely pace during
Helen's last orgasmic cycle, found himself hard pressed not to succumb to
the urgency of that welcome.  He gritted his teeth against the temptation of
the tantalizing waves of sensation that Helen was generating, but it was a
losing battle.  Realizing that he had gone past the point of no return, Al
picked up the pace - and Helen's efforts backfired on her.  Concentrating
her efforts on muscular control meant concentrating deeply on the sensations
generated, and when Al picked up the pace, that concentration made her all
the more susceptible.  When Al began to snap his hips in a driving rhythm
meant to maximize sensation for both of them, Helen's pussy slipped the
leash of her conscious control and began to pulsate in its natural rhythm.
This, in turn, frazzled Al's remaining control, and he buried himself to the
hilt in Helen, howling, just as her eyeballs rolled up.

      The pair clutched at one another as they weathered the mutual
cataclysm, then Al collapsed across Helen's chest.  Helen was smiling and
stroking Al's broad back when Al intoned, "And THAT, Ladies and Gents, is
the end of Round One!"


      Eddie Vincent stood backed against a chair back, gazing down at what
had to be the most incredible sight he'd ever witnessed.  Denise knelt,
delightfully nude, before him, her face somewhat red and strained as she
slowly forced inch ten of his huge cock down her throat!

      "Baby, you don't have to - Aaaaahh!"  Eddie's attempt at gallantry
ended as his glans slipped past the opening of Denise's throat.  Eddie
watched Denise's throat distend, bug-eyed from the sight and the sensation.

      Denise held herself there for a moment, then withdrew to speak.  "Oh
yes I do!  I have a reputation, and if anybody has a right to be able to
discuss it firsthand, it's you!"  She went back to work: first a short
stroke, only absorbing his glans and an inch or two beyond, then after
backing off to the point where she was more or less kissing it, she went for
six or seven inches, leaving a layer of shiny saliva on the shaft as she
withdrew.  The third stroke was a deep one; she lodged Eddie's cock head in
her throat and held it there while Eddie watched her gag.  It was painful to
watch, but she held him in place with her hands on his thighs until she had
accomplished what she set out to do, and he succumbed to the arousal that
was the secondary effect of watching her go to that uncomfortable length to
please him.

      Denise backed off, and it became evident what she was up to; gagging
had produced a copious amount of spit that she laved his length with as she
drove back onto it, this time absorbing all eleven inches and burying her
nose in his pubic hair.  Then she did something with her throat (swallow?)
that drove Eddie up the wall!  On the backstroke her eyes smiled at him as
Denise got down to business: an alternating pattern of short strokes and
full burial deep throat action that had Eddie's knees shaking within thirty
seconds.

      "I'm gonna blow!" Eddie howled, and Denise drew back until her lips
enclosed his glans and ran her tongue over the sensitive crown to keep him
engaged until the first mighty squirt of cum poured out.  She'd been
planning on letting him shoot directly down her throat, but had realized
that she might never talk again if he swelled up much while fully buried.
She was right, too; Eddie picked up some girth in those last moments, sizing
up to the point that she was very happy that she wasn't pinned with her nose
buried in his pubes.  As it was, she had a considerable amount of sperm to
deal with; she swallowed twice, not counting that first jet that seemed to
shoot straight down her still open throat!

      Eddie hovered on the verge of collapse as Denise, smiling, vacuumed up
the excess with her mouth.  "God!  You make that an Olympic sport!"

      "Not me!" Denise demurred, "I'm not from the land of the giants!  But
we're a helluva pair!"

      "Um," Eddie murmured, "Want me to warm you up for the main event?"

      "Sure!" Denise laughed, "I can't wait for another run-in with that
talented tongue of yours!"  She plopped onto the couch, putting her feet on
the cushions, knees spread.

      "I have some work to do to compete with that!"  Eddie laughed.

      Denise turned serious.  "That's nothing that 'way too many others
haven't experienced.  You own the main attraction, though.  That's a limited
engagement.  I've only got one cherry left, though - my ass!  I'll give it
to you at some appropriate moment..."

      "So that's what I can expect on our wedding night?" Eddie joked.

      Denise's face was unreadable as she replied, "Well, that would be ONE
appropriate moment..."

      "Oops!  I stepped in it, didn't I?" Eddie was instantly contrite.
"Our rules don't really allow for that, do they?  At least, not right away."

      Denise smiled, but it was bittersweet.  "No, not yet.  That's the way
I laid it out."  'And now I'm stuck with it,' went unsaid, but Eddie heard
it, anyway.

      "We could always just have a two year engagement," Eddie offered, "I
don't think we should marry until after high school, but being engaged kind
of fits the parameters of our relationship.  As a matter of fact, it kind of
defines it!"

      "So, you're asking?" Denise asked dubiously.

      "I should probably chase you down a rock, or something, but I'm
willing if you are!"  Eddie affirmed.  "You'll have a couple of years to
decide whether you can stand having me around.  If not, no harm done - not
permanent, anyway.  In the meantime, it keeps the predators away."

      "That's you asking?" Denise arched an eyebrow.

      "No, this is me asking..." already on his knees to attack her pussy,
he rose up and popped the question:  "You wanna marry me?"

      Denise smiled and cradled Eddie's cheek.  "In a couple of years - just
as you described.  You want it now?"

      "What?" Eddie asked, somewhat confused.

      "My ass!  That's what you were angling for, wasn't it?" Denise
grinned.

      "Noooo, I was aiming to solidify my position as Numero Uno!" Eddie
retorted archly.

      "Well, your position's solid," Denise replied gently, "Even if you're
not serious..."

      "But I AM serious, and I'm kneeling here getting rug burns waiting for
an answer!" Eddie retorted tartly.

      "And I thought you were going to lick my pussy!" Denise laughed, then
sobered, "Still, if you're serious," - Eddie nodded - "you deserve an
answer.  And nothing less that 'Yes' will do!"

      "Okay, where do YOU want it?" Eddie turned the tables.

      "What?" Denise asked.

      "My tongue!" Eddie mocked.  "Do I need to stick it in your ass?"

      Denise chuckled, "Okay, okay!  If you do, I guarantee you'll have to
replace it with something a lot bigger and harder!"

      "Another time - unless you really want it!  I'm still getting familiar
with the main attraction, as you call it!"

      Denise laughed, but caressed Eddie's cheek again.  "But seriously, all
joking aside..."

      "...I asked you to marry me!" Eddie responded firmly.

      "And I said yes!" Denise finally let go of her poker face and
jocularity, pulling him to her to hug.  Tears leaked out of her eyes, but
she got back to humor after a moment.  "That doesn't get you out of licking
my pussy..." she pointed out.

      "As if I wanted to!" Eddie exclaimed, then kissed her cheek, her left
breast, and her bellybutton on the way to target.  "It's dinner time! Come
to Papa!"  Then he got serious, driving his tongue between her already
retracted labia and into her channel.  After four or five good penetrations,
he swiped her slit from anus to clit (Denise jumped twice, once at each end)
then began sucking her nether lips, tonguing her clitoris from between the
folds.

      "Ohhhh, Eddie!" Denise cried, deep in the grip of the sensations,
"You're SOOO talented!  How many pussies have you licked besides mine?"

      "Besides your's?" Eddie replied, between licks, "None!"

      "None!" Denise exclaimed, "I should share you... oooohhhhhh ... but I
don't wanna!"

      Eddie didn't respond - verbally.  Denise's clitoris had reached the
point where identification was easy, so Eddie took it between his lips and
began rubbing his tongue all over the tip.  Denise came unglued:  "Oh,
God!.. Oh!... Oh!...Oh!... OHHHH!... AAAAAHHHH!!!!"  By the end of things,
she had both hands in Eddie's hair, and he COULDN'T escape!  He slid a
finger into her just in time to feel the sucking pulsations of a vagina at
orgasm, as Denise threw her head back and uttered a strangled cry of
completion.

      Eddie gentled his activity to ease her through the aftermath, avoiding
over-stimulation as she quivered and shook.  "God, that's good!" she gasped,
"but it's not a cock!  Is that thing hard?  I need it - bad!"

      Eddie grinned.  His cock was an iron bar!  "Go kneel up on the chair!"
he directed, "I'm driving!"


      Paul Michaels was having this incredible wet dream...  He was lying
atop Ellen, buried in warm, oily depths that Ellen apparently didn't have...
The idle thought 'I've probably made a mess of the sheets, and she'll have
to clean it up!' flickered through his mind followed by 'Serves her right!'
But then something odd happened - the dream Ellen stirred under him and
murmured, "Sweetheart, this is nice, but you're squashing me!"

      Paul's eyes popped open, and he did a quick inventory.  He was STILL
buried in warm, oily depths!  "Um, sorry!  I'll get off!"  This last came
with some reluctance - it was NICE down there!

      But as he made to move, Ellen crossed her ankles over his back.  "Hold
on! I don't think I want us to separate!  I like the full feeling - I don't
think you ever went down!"

      Paul came up on his elbows and gazed down at his wife in some
amazement.  "I think you're right!"  He grimaced.  "How long was I out?"

      Ellen's hands rubbed his back as she replied, "Only a few minutes, I
think.  I drifted a bit, too, after..."  Paul's dazed brain filled in the
'after' - it was 'after' some of the most amazing sex of their lives!

      "What do you want to do, then?" he asked.

      "Well, I'm okay, now," Ellen replied, "but you won't be, soon.  And I
want some more of ... that!"  Paul felt a squeeze on his rigid member,
which, if it HAD gone down, was obviously fully recovered.  "Why don't we
roll over, and I'll ride on top?"

      Paul blinked.  He'd seen this in porno flicks, but never in his life
expected Ellen to come up with it...  "Uh, okay!"

      Ellen looked at him diffidently, and murmured, "The girls called it
the 'cowboy' position, or something..."

      "Cowgirl, maybe?" Paul offered.  "Well, the girls have been spot on,
this far..."

      "Um, yeah," Ellen agreed.  "It's supposedly more work for me, but
offers me better control, too."

      "Okay, how?" Paul queried.  "I don't really want to pull out..."

      "I'll leave my legs where they are, and we'll just roll over!  I'll
sort 'em out when we get there!" Ellen directed.

      Paul shrugged, and Ellen snuggled up, wrapping her arms around him,
too.  At her nod, Paul initiated the roll.  Once on top, Ellen extracted her
legs from under him, and began to stretch out - only to discover immediately
that it wasn't good for Paul's depth of penetration.  She stopped, thought
about it, and brought her knees back up alongside him, then rose to a
vertical position.  This changed things radically - the full feeling was
back, with a vengeance!  "Ummmm, that's better!"

      Paul lay there grinning, eyes alight.  "Okay, now what?"

      "I guess I move around a bit."  Ellen rose a bit, pivoting on her
knees and settled back down.  That was really nice, but how long could she
do it, especially slowly?  Almost instinctively, she slid forward along
Paul's belly, then back until Paul's cock was again deeply socketed, then
went on to grind her clitoris against the root of his cock.  This was it!
Ellen began sliding back and forth along Paul's lower belly.  Soon she was
moving relatively rapidly, sliding up and down, dragging her pussy across
Paul's crotch and lower belly to the tune of a series of keening whines.
Paul reached up and engaged her swaying breasts.  Soon, Ellen's cheeks,
shoulders, and upper chest were flushed, and the quantities of air she was
sucking in and out of her nose and the inward stare she had developed
telegraphed a massive orgasm.  Her nipples were rock hard atop tightly
crinkled aureolae.  The whines became more urgent, and then the shaking
began.  Unfortunately, this signaled a certain loss of control; Paul sensed
it and grabbed her hips to steady her, then began driving into her from
beneath, lifting her just enough to allow for a good, solid stroke.  Ellen's
eyes bulged; she threw back her head and opened her mouth in a nearly silent
scream as the impacts brought her over the top, "Aaaaaahhhhhh! Huh! Huh!
Hungh!"  She began to thrash as the sensations poured over her, finally
grabbing Paul's arms in a death grip.

      Paul was just getting going.  Ellen's sliding action hadn't been that
good for him, but he'd borne it because she was obviously enjoying it.  In
fact, he'd become worried that he would lose his erection!  The stroking,
however, returned him to full erection in no time, and he was going for the
gusto, surprised that he could actually get any leverage in this position!

      Ellen slumped forward in the aftermath of her orgasm, but Paul's
relentless driving didn't allow a return to anything resembling normalcy.
Her pussy was alight, every nerve quivering as Paul pounded her with that
additional four inches of cock that she hadn't been aware of before this
evening, punctuating every stroke with an impact to her pubic bone and
clitoris.  Paul held her bolt upright, supported by hands placed on her ribs
to cradle her breasts and drove her onto his cock.  Soon, she was beginning
to shake and thrash again.

      Paul, tired of working against both Ellen and gravity, slammed deep
into her and rolled them into what was basically their original position,
then he REALLY went to town, pounding into her with a vengeance!  Neither
could hold a pace like this for long, and Ellen began to buck and squirm as
the flashes from her clit piled atop the incredible sensations in her
vaginal channel set off the fireworks display behind her eyes for the second
time in ten minutes.  Her vagina commenced a series of mighty pulsations,
and Paul abruptly reached his peak, wailing "Whuunnggg!" and burying himself
to pour several shots of semen into Ellen's grasping vagina.

      Finished, the pair lay gasping for a few moments, recovering and
savoring the aftershocks.  Paul mustered some energy, and rolled them back
over so that Ellen was atop him, and relaxed; that way if he faded away
again...

      Ellen, still impaled, reached and twisted, finally securing the
topsheet and a blanket, and pulling them over her.  Paul reflected sadly
that in a couple of minutes, his penis would have shrunk to the point that
the whole thing was irrelevant, but the gesture said a lot.  He smiled.  "I
think I owe your girlfriends each a big kiss!" he announced.

      Ellen leaned up, smiling, and retorted, "As long as you leave the f-
fucking to me!"  She collapsed against him, savoring the feel of hands
rubbing her back.