The two of them were a terror. No, a force of fucking nature. Charlie, with his easy manner, wandering and inviting eyes, boyish smile, and his oh so slutty ways. David, with his brooding attitude, intense knowing stare, and the ability to bring any and everyone to their knees. The two of them, unleashed on any room, broke spirits, broke cherries, and broke furniture.
It didn’t matter who you were. If Charlie and David set their sights on you, inevitably you would end up in the same position as everyone else: bent over, your mouth around David’s cock, while Charlie pounded you from behind. The only variation seemed to be which hole you preferred. Charlie loved all of them.
David, when having his cock sucked, apparently seemed almost bored. Occasionally, he’d grab you by the hair, lift up your face, slap you a few times, just so you knew who was in charge and remembered whose dick you were sucking, and then shoved your face back down on his cock.
I wasn’t new, but I was new-ish. Charlie had been away for some time on an extended company trip. David had also been busy with work, regrettably unable to come out to Happy Hour for the past few months.
I had been attending Happy Hour for about half a year. People took to my quiet easy nature, calling me a good listener when I didn’t reveal any of my deep dark secrets, and nurtured me in the unspoken rules about the community. And everyone, everyone warned me about Charlie and David.
Well, warn is the wrong term. It was more like they bragged about their Charlie and David experience.
“Yeah, my third Happy Hour, in the women’s bathroom. After about ten minutes, the banging on the door stopped when they realized I was with Charlie and David. They then just went to the men’s room. Everyone understood.”
“I didn’t think I was into guys, but Charlie started massaging my back, my neck. I had had a stressful day at work, and the alcohol wasn’t working. But Charlie’s hands did. And before I understood what was about to happen, Charlie’s tongue was down my throat, and I liked it. I really liked it. So now I call myself hetero-flexible.”
“I’m a slut. They’re both hot. So yeah, I did it. And fuck, it was fun.”
But the thing that always bugged me was that I never heard anyone’s second Charlie & David story. Everyone had their experience in the eye of the storm, but it seemed to me that no one ever got caught up again, which was quite odd because everyone loved it. I mean it often was the start of conversations.
“I got this neck cramp yesterday that reminded me of how it felt while I was working on David’s cock.”
“Do you think Charlie’s going to teach an anal class this summer? He did this one thing that I still can’t figure out how to replicate.”
All these recountings, all this conversation, but it all seemed to be instances of hit-it and quit-it. And me, the adopted baby sister, quietly sitting and hearing it all.
So, when the stormed tried to sweep me up, I had other ideas… (to be continued, tomorrow)
Categorised as: Erotica
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