Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Second Best
Part: 129
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 mf mf

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 129
Late night vignettes

      The slave Merry, property of Robert Nellis, awakened to an urge to
pee, and crawled out of bed to attend to the problem.  On her return to the
bedroom, she crawled in next to her new sister in bondage, Belle, who was
tied spreadeagle to the bed (although it was a token restraint that ALMOST
let her close her legs, and ALMOST had enough slack in it to allow her to
untie herself.)  Their master had groused quite a bit over the quality of
the restraints, making do with this and that to get Belle properly secured -
doubtless he would correct the problem quickly, now...  That done, though,
the pair had cuddled poor Belle while she poured out her tale of guilt, pain
and loss.  Master had a pretty good idea of Belle's drivers, now, having
seen their source...

      If anyone had told Merry two weeks ago that she would be sharing her
husband and her bed with her friend and colleague Ann Newton, she'd have
called them insane!  How things change...  Belle stirred in her sleep,
disturbed by something, probably a dream.  Wickedness and compassion warred
in Merry; a compromise was reached and a hand stole out to toy with Belle's
furry mound, the excuse being the idea that she might improve the tenor of
Belle's dream.  She began to gently tease Belle's clitoris with a finger,
and after a bit, Belle's hips began to roll, her breathing becoming more
stentorian.  Merry kept it up until Belle reached a gentle peak, still
sleeping, then just lay her hand flat on the other woman's mound while she
relaxed again.

      Glancing up, Merry surprised her master's dubious regard.  "You aren't
supposed to do things like that without specific direction," Robert groused.

      Merry flinched, "Sorry, Master."

      Robert grunted, "Well, it seemed to be kindly motivated - we'll not
write it up in your book - this time!"  He rolled over onto his back.
"Since you appear to have an excess of energy for sexual stimulation, come
over here and give me some throat!"

      Merry hopped up and circled the bed, crawling between her master's
knees and kneeling to her work.  If she was lucky, she thought
philosophically, maybe he would relent and fuck her...  The first few
moments weren't particularly pleasant; she'd done a poor job of cleaning him
up earlier, and his penis was still rendolent of the contents of Belle's
anal passage.  But it was her own fault, and at least he had allowed her to
use a wet rag, rather than her mouth for the earlier cleanup; Merry was
thankful for small favors.

      Merry practiced her deep throat technique; while she was uncertain
that she would ever be able to just open her throat and let him jab his cock
through the opening, she had developed another method:  She lowered her
mouth onto Robert's erection overriding her gag reflex until the head of his
cock was lodged in her throat and her nose was buried in his pubes, then
deliberately swallowed, several times.  Robert's groans and thrashing about
were testimony to his agony of pleasure.  As she watched the expressions
flow across his face, she reflected that there was little chance that he
would spill semen elicited this way anywhere but in her open mouth, ever
again - but THAT was her fault, too; she'd been a stupid cow and opened her
thoughtless mouth, and now Robert stuck his spurting cock in it any time he
felt like it.  She was philosophical about the whole thing - Hell, she was
even getting used to the taste!  Certainly, she looked upon it as the
product of her success as a lover, and therefore a source of satisfaction...

      Robert read her like a book, a modest effort based upon twenty years'
practice.  Certainly, they had turned over a couple of new pages, lately,
but Merry had always been careless about the play of expression on her
face...  "Climb up here and put it where it belongs," he invited.  Merry did
so, being careful not to disturb Belle any more than necessary, thankful for
the opportunity to feel Robert's hot cock in her.  How on Earth had she
managed to go so long ignoring this feeling?  What an idiot she'd been,
believing that rot!  She smiled as she settled on Robert's cock - she was
wet from her efforts at sucking it, proof that much of the joy of sex is a
mental exercise.  Further proof was provided minutes later when Robert
vacated his intention to withdraw from her vagina and shoot his semen down
her throat because, simply, Merry's orgasm triggered his own, making it
frankly impossible to do it.


      Ellen Michaels woke up feeling gooey from the puddle that had oozed
from her flooded tunnel.  Well, at least the wet spot wasn't new and
different, although there seemed to be a good deal more of it...  She hopped
up and made for the bathroom, cupping her pudenda.  Plopping on the toilet,
she allowed the goo to ooze out, drooling into the water while she urinated.
Dabbing at herself with a bit of toilet paper, she became aware of the
sensations awakened deep in her vagina, doubtless by Paul's unprecedented
penetration stretching her.  She was probably going to be sore...

      But this was an itch, sort of... pleasant...  It was also insistent;
before she'd event thought about it seriously, Ellen spread her legs wide
and, spreading her labia, placed a fingertip at her opening.  Rubbing her
finger along the elastic opening helped, but it wasn't handling the deeper
component - and her little button was driving her nuts!

      Five minutes later, coming down from a quick, flashing cum, she
admitted it to herself: she was masturbating - playing with herself!  And
the two fingers she had bottomed out in her channel weren't long enough...

      Decision firming, she hopped up and made for the bedroom, worrying
anxiously, 'Will Paul mind? Twice in one night...'

      Paul, however, was flat on his back, naked, snoring, but sporting a
HUGE hard-on!  'My God!' Ellen thought, slightly incredulously, 'did he use
THAT on me?'  The evidence was clear, however, as she approached, she could
see the crusts of their mixed juices dried along the hairs adorning the base
of his cock, just above his scrotum.

      Gingerly, she approached the thing, and reached out to touch it,
exclaiming "Oh!" and leaping back when it twitched in response.  Paul didn't
move, though, so she gathered her courage and took a more firm hand with the
monster, wrapping her fingers around it.  It was smooth, flexible but stiff,
and oh, SO hot!  She slid her hand up and down the shaft, discovering that
the tube of loose skin slid with it, uncovering a shiny, bulbous, pinkish-
purple head...  She also noted that the motion caused the dried-on layer of
their mixed juices to flake off, smoothing the way even further.  But most
heartening was the way Paul moaned and thrashed...

      Paul was having one helluva dream.  Ellen was sitting on his face
(probably a consequence of the lingering smell/taste of her juices), and
now, somehow, she was sliding onto his cock, too...  "Paul?" came a
diffident voice, "Can we go again?"  A pause, while he drifted a bit - there
was something odd about this...  "Paul?"

      Paul jerked awake, realizing sadly that there was no pussy over his
mouth.  A moment later, however, he realized the the stimulation to his cock
wasn't imagined!  And his hands were...  "Paul?"  His eyes focused, tracking
the sound.  Ellen was standing next to the bed, gloriously naked, her hand
sliding up and down his shaft...  "'M still asleep..." he mumbled,
"Damnedest dream..."

      "Paul, Honey," Ellen insisted gently, "Can we go again?"

      Paul took this like a bucket of cold water, thrashing and shaking his
head.  Ellen was still standing there!  "Uh, yeah..."

      Ellen gathered her courage, "Okay, lie still.  I want to try
something."  She was wet, but...  She leaned over and licked up the side of
Paul's shaft.  The taste was interesting, salty flesh, a little gamy, with
some interesting overlays...  Ellen idly wondered which of the blended
flavors were from her, and which were Paul's.  But the primary purpose was
to clean him up and get him a bit damp, so she leaned down and cleaned the
other side of Paul's shaft.

      Paul accepted this activity, wide-eyed.  Surprised didn't begin to
describe it!  Was she going to give him a blowjob?  Should he offer to
reciprocate?  "Uh, want me to...?"

      Ellen grinned nervously, "No, I'm already wet.  Besides, this
isn't..."  She didn't have words for what she figured they were discussing,
so she just let it go, making her intentions clear by climbing astraddle of
him on the bed.  Eyeing his erection, though, she changed her mind - he
wasn't QUITE ready yet...  She backed down his legs to the point where she
could again bring her mouth into contact (leaving enough dampness on his
left thigh to confirm her earlier assertion) and gently covered his glans
with it.  The spongy texture was amazing, as was the taste of the fluid that
leaked from the tip - but the most fascinating thing was the way it
expanded, peeling back the protective covering of once-loose skin...  She
had no problem working up spit, and she deposited it there while Paul
lurched up, galvanized, his eyes bugging and his mouth open in a silent
scream of pleasure.  Then she was up, repositioning - THIS was long enough
to scratch her itch...

      Paul refocused on Ellen, her face pensive as she brought his cock into
contact with her vagina.  She glanced up, "Does it get any bigger?"

      Paul gasped; his cock was being bathed in hot liquid.  "A little,
maybe - not much - you've definitely got its attention..."  He looked
worried, "Why, need more?"

      "No," Ellen replied distractedly, "It was plenty enough to give me
this itch - I'm sure it's enough to scratch it..."  Indeed, it was already
doing a fine job, the fullness SO fine as it slid along her inner folds.
THIS was what she was looking for - it even got that spot 'way up there...
" 'Way up there..." was her cervix, and it was loving the attention Paul's
bulbous head was now giving it.  "Ummmm," she sighed, "Sooooo good!"  To an
extent, she had drifted into her own little world while glorying in the
temporary relief.

      But like a picked scab, it all came back, insistent, demanding that it
be rubbed.  Ellen began to move, not up and down, but forward and back,
rocking and sliding against Paul's crotch.

      For Paul, this wasn't the perfect amount of stimulation, but it was
plenty enough to keep him rock hard and enjoying it.  He was prepared to let
Ellen ride him all night like this, if necessary; certainly, rolling her
over and pushing a bit would handle things, after...

      Ellen, however, probably couldn't improve upon it, at least initially.
The fore and back slide moved his cock in her vagina, but it also dragged
her clitoris along the top of it and through his pubes, under conditions
where she could control pressure and location - at least, in the main.  Paul
smiled as a recently familiar pattern of breathing - a close-mouthed,
hyperventilating pant over whines and whimpers - asserted itself.

      Ellen's initial slow pace proved inadequate as her urgency increased.
She was chasing something - something powerful - and it was urgent that she
catch it!  She increased her speed once, and then again, then went to work
on pressure, driving herself against Paul harder and harder as the elusive
goal got closer and closer...

      Paul was beginning to feel serious discomfort!  Ellen was rubbing
herself against him harder and harder, faster and faster, to the
accompaniment of sounds that could only be described as frantic!  It felt
like she was beginning to remove skin!  Paul decided to take matters into
his own hands; he waited until she was sliding forward, her hips almost a
blur, and slammed his pelvis upward!

      Ellen hit her elusive target head on!  Paul's hip snap produced an
explosive pulse that mashed her clitoris between them and set off a pulse
that cascaded across her, destroying her rhythm while replacing it with
another as old as time.  Had Ellen's jaws not been locked, the sound she
made would have been an ear-piercing scream; as it was, Paul didn't think
he'd ever heard its like before.  Ellen wobbled and weaved, control lost,
while her vagina surged and pulsed and waves of heat, cold, and pleasure
washed over her like a sea of sparks.

      Paul grasped her hips, stabilizing her atop him while she weaved,
temporarily bereft of muscular control.  Reluctant to lose the continuity of
her action, he began to thrust upward from below, setting a moderate pace.

      The action gave her an anchor point and helped stabilize her; Ellen
sucked in a huge breath and declaimed, "Omigod!"  For a moment, she held
herself stable, letting Paul work from below - but when control came back,
she began to post on his cock, raising and lowering herself.  Paul,
realizing that his efforts were not required, again stopped, providing a
stable platform for her to strive against.

      This time, Ellen knew what it was she was chasing; she went after it,
her way lit by the flashes of pleasure her impacts with Paul's pubic bone
sparked in her clitoris.  Again, urgency drove her hips to rotate faster and
faster - but this time her motion was more pleasurable to her husband!  Once
she got going, Paul subsided, letting Ellen do the work - not out of
selfishness, but rather out of a desire to let her find her own way,
maximizing her own pleasure.  He was getting plenty, anyway; the increased
sensation caused by her driving herself more directly onto him had him
floating, drifting, awash.  THIS was what he had wanted, gambled upon,
fought for!  Paul relished every moment; If Ellen developed some crippling
attack of conscience in the morning, and her normally priggish personality
reasserted itself, he would still have the memory of THIS to sustain him, to
help him to drive her to defeat!

      But Paul's primary weapon had already made considerable inroads; he
smiled as the suppressed whines began anew.  Reaching up, he braced the
outsides of each hand along Ellen's ribs, and, using that as a basis, began
to tease her nipples, twisting and pulling.

      For Ellen, it was almost as if he had her clitoris between his
fingers; little popping flashes erupted before her eyes as the climax she
was chasing suddenly bloomed before her.  The little whines became a high
keening, and she staggered as she tried to race ahead of her own physical
capabilities, trying to churn her hips faster than was physically possible
for her.  This caused the whole thing to recede a bit, tantalizing her, and
her whines took on a note of desperation as fear that it was going to escape
rose up in her.

      But Paul took notice and lent a hand, again driving up from below.  He
crashed into her once, twice, three times - and the bubble ruptured, the
shock waves rushing over Ellen.  Again, she lost it, swaying drunkenly in
the saddle while waves of pleasure robbed her of coordination.  But this
time, Paul's urgency was such that it was impossible for him to remain
passive.  Grasping her to him, he rolled them over and began to pound into
her from above.

      Ellen saw stars!  Already in the throes of a tremendous orgasm, Paul's
renewal of stimulation rocked her to a second, higher peak!

      Paul was ruthless, driving, pounding, the urgency of his climax having
driven all else from his consciousness.  Ellen was decimated; she had no
will - nothing worked above her waist.  She came down from her orgasm after
a bit, but 'down' was a relative thing - Paul's driving attack had her
flashing constantly!  The urgent whines were gone - Ellen was in constant
release, soft "Oooohhhhhs" leaking from her slack mouth.  But below the
waist, her hips and vagina knew EXACTLY what they were doing as they reacted
to millions of years of instinctual programming, rolling and sucking at the
giver of life driving inside her.  In a couple of minutes, Paul's driving
intensity reached its peak, and he exploded inside her, taking Ellen on one
last ride to climax with him.  Then he collapsed atop her, and the couple
drifted from orgasm to twilight, to sleep.


      Mandi awakened to the flexion of Rick's still-inserted penis.  He was
tensing and relaxing his organ - which never really seemed to go down when
in her vagina - from his position spooned against her ass.  The pair spent a
lot of time like this - sleeping joined - and it was where they had
collapsed from after Rick delivered his second load of sperm a bit earlier.
"Mmmmm?" she questioned.

      "Want some more?" Rick husked in her ear.  He was thoroughly enjoying
being away from BOTH sets of their parents, for once, and determined to make
the most of it.  If Mandi wanted to scream out her joy, well, no one else
had any say, least of all the other three couples in the group.  Rick was
pretty sure Dina had awakened him just now - from clear across two suites!
Bobby must be exceeding expectation...

      "Mmmmm, sure!"  Mandi agreed, stretching lazily.  "How?"

      Rick grinned.  "Kneel up again - I'm on a power trip!"

      Mandi nodded, then carefully gathered her arms and legs for the change
in position - a difficult shift for Rick, if they were to remain joined.
Rick worked at it, but lost his balance at forty five degrees to the
vertical and collapsed, pulling free and almost taking Mandi down with him.
But he was up again, immediately, swatting Mandi playfully on her upturned
ass.  A wicked gleam came into his eye as he positioned himself, and he
drove forcefully into her in one stroke, something that would not have been
possible had he not just been there.

      "Ooof!" Mandi gasped, then braced herself as Rick set up a driving
pace.  She looked back in some surprise, to see that his face had assumed a
look of (mock?) introspection.

      "You know," Rick began, in a tone that matched his expression, "I've
been thinking that I ought to take this 'Master' thing a lot more
seriously..."  Mandi wondered, was it this announcement, or Rick's driving
pace that elicited that wash of fluids in her pussy?  "Maybe I should start
by denying you birth control?" Rick wondered, pensively.  "You'd be so
pretty with your belly all big with child," (he reached down and rubbed it
in demonstration), "and those pretty tits full of milk..."  He reached down
to collect one of her swaying orbs, mauling the nipple between thumb and
middle finger.  "I could keep you nursing," Rick reflected, "One tit for me
and one for the kids..."  Mandi's eyes were as big as saucers, and she was
beginning to pant - she'd certainly gotten flaming hot, fast!  "Of course, I
bite..." Rick pinched the captured nipple viciously, and Mandi whimpered -
but her eyes closed, and she didn't even grimace - well, maybe a flicker...

      Rick decided he might as well continue to push the envelope.  He wet
his thumb, and began probing her anus with it, pushing open her sphincter
without really penetrating.  "Of course, when you're really big, I'll be
spending a lot of time back here, poking your back-hole to give your pussy a
rest..."  Mandi was beginning to shake, so Rick decided to deliver the coup
de grace:  "And of course, I'll be able to answer that age-old question -
just how good IS sex with a woman in labor?"  The question came simultaneous
with Rick collecting Mandi's stiff clit between his thumb and two fingers
and squeezing and rubbing the living shit out of it!  Mandi went totally
rigid and screamed bloody murder!  "AAAAAIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!"  The fingers
of Rick's right hand, splayed to support his thumb and the fingers crushing
her clit, felt the roiling pulsations as Mandi's belly muscles supported a
titanic rippling in her pussy!  Rick's current thrust stopped dead as he
inner walls began to milk him in a crushing, velvet grip.  Mandi's anus
spasmed, and his teasing left thumb dropped through the momentary opening,
and Mandi screamed again as her sphincter locked around the intruder!

      Rick had expected that this round would take a while - it was his
third load in a couple of hours, after all - but Mandi pulled him along with
her effortlessly, milking a ball-draining explosion from his embedded penis.
He stiffened, straining against her, trying to get AT LEAST another foot
deep (the fact that he was already in to the root notwithstanding), and
finally collapsed across her still-straining back as the flood subsided.

      Mandi turned to look at his sweat-soaked face, wide-eyed, panting,
"You'd (puff) do that (gasp) for me?"

      Rick laughed breathlessly, "I'd kind of thought of it as 'to' you, not
'for' you..."

      "Same difference, Love," Mandi replied, and began collapsing forward
onto the bed, carrying her lover with her.


      Thelma Franken awakened, rising slowly through several levels of
consciousness to a background of now-familiar sounds:  the metronomic slap
of Jimmy's pelvis against Amy's and her resulting exclamations of "Umm...
Umm... Umm..."  Idly, she wondered if they had ever stopped; Jimmy was
apparently a sex machine, and Amy was well-equipped to take it.  Thelma was
on her stomach, and the mattress was moving...  No, the mattress was Danny!
Apparently, at some point, he'd rolled onto his back, using Thelma as a
blanket.  Thelma didn't see any reason to complain.  She lurched up and
backed off him, dropping off the foot of the bed; on the way, she discovered
that Danny's cock had shrunk by half, the rubber now loose and pooling semen
on his stomach - another thing to be thankful for.  If he'd remained on top,
the rubber might have let some slip past...  That was a thought for the near
future, if they had one - eventually, she would institute more pleasant and
comfortable birth control.

      Thelma toddled off to piddle, the exercise being a little less
pleasant than usual; Danny had found surfaces and muscles that Thelma hadn't
ever used before.  But the soreness brought a pleasant memory and a sense of
accomplishment with it - on balance, she'd rather be a little sore and a lot
relaxed than wound up tight as a drum and not relaxed AT ALL.

      Thelma collected a towel and a damp washrag on the way out - no need
for Danny to have to get up cradling a puddle and a messy cock!  She knelt
on the bed, and proceeded to gently extract the rubber, trying to keep SOME
of the flood in it, then gently wiped at Danny's pubes.  Danny awakened,
confused, and Thelma couldn't read the expression on his face until he
murmured, "That's the sweetest thing..."

      Danny couldn't get over the new Thelma.  Amy could have told him that
Thelma NORMALLY went out of her way for people - she just complained loudly
about it.  But seen from a distance, only the complaining leaked through;
Danny didn't have a referent.  For Danny, this cleanup thing rated as a
selfless act, and brought a burst of affection, which colored his voice.
Thelma blushed crimson and concentrated on her work.  "You sure came a lot,"
she observed.  "If that rubber had failed, I'd end up with a big belly."

      Danny opened his mouth to comment that she might not look bad that
way, realized just what it was he was preparing to say, and switched tracks,
"Well, you were working hard to get it, so..."  Meanwhile, he lay there,
examining the underpinnings of what he'd ALMOST said.  Did he want kids?
From Thelma?  Maybe... later.  "I hear kids put a dent in your sex life.
Maybe we oughta practice a few thousand times, first..." He grinned from ear
to ear.

      Thelma looked up, blushing, and swatted him on the belly. "Fresh!"
She tossed the towel, and after frowning a moment, the washcloth, onto the
rug, and climbed up next to him, presenting her ass for him to spoon
against.

      The pair lay there, watching Amy and Jimmy make like a perpetual
motion machine.  Amy was closing on another orgasm, the "Ummm.  Ummm.
Ummm..." giving way to " Ohhh... Ohhh... OOOHH..."  Thelma looked up and
surprised Danny watching Jimmy's oversize piston pound into Amy's splayed
crotch.  Danny glanced at her and asked, distractedly, "Thel, have you ever
been with Amy?"

      There were a couple of surprises in this question: the obvious one,
and Danny calling her "Thel".  Only her father - and Amy - did that,
heretofore...  Thelma thought about it, and essayed honesty, "Well, no, but
if the opportunity had arisen, I might have - I was in pretty bad shape."  A
synapse spat and she asked, "Have you ever been with Jimmy?"

      Instead of applying the usual male double-standard regarding
homosexual relations, Danny grinned and replied, "No, but if the opportunity
had arisen, I might have - Jimmy was in pretty bad shape!"

      Thelma chuckled.  Speaking of changing shape...  A very solid-feeling
cylinder was making itself felt along the crack of Thelma's ass!  Thelma
looked the question over her shoulder, and Danny shrugged.  "There's more
rubbers in the drawer," he rumbled, nodding at the night table.

      Thelma reached into the drawer.  "How many are there?"

      "A dozen," Danny replied, then affected comical confusion, "Think it's
enough?"

      After the obligatory confusion over fitting, Danny let Thelma ride
him, thinking the rubber was safer that way.  But he didn't get his finger
into her mouth in time, this round...

      Ray Hightower sat bolt upright in bed, awakened by a feminine scream
of joyful completion loud enough to disturb him all the way from the pool
house!  He grinned from ear to ear, 'Somebody got a helluva ride!'  Still
grinning, he rolled over and went back to sleep.