Chicago Rare (Part 2)
Chad was at the foot of the bed. Liv was kneeling in front of him, clawing at his chest, his arms, and kissing him desperately.
Seriously, bro. That fucking tribal armband tattoo though.
I just moved out of the way, not wanting to overstep bounds.
It’s fine. I’ll just… wait here then.
Liv was in total control, and I was meekly awaiting her next instruction.
Liv was kneeling next to me, stroking my hair.
“Baby, isn’t she pretty?” she asked Chad. “Look how pretty she is.”
I still haven’t said much, if anything.
They were both kissing my neck from either side. I absently stroked their scalps and opened my eyes.
Huh… When did my clothes come off?
Wait, when did her clothes come off?
Jesus, his clothes are gone too?
How did I manage to miss all of that?
Doesn’t matter. I guess we’re naked now.
She had one hand on my back, and was tugging on his erection with the other. At least, I assumed that was what was happening based on the slight, repetitive sway of the mattress.
Despite how far we’d come together, apparently I was still too shy to look down to see what he was packing.
Liv was on her back in front of me. I was nuzzling the crook of her groin, teasing the corners of her labia with my breath. Her pussy was almost disturbingly smooth.
Good lord? How does she get it that smooth?
There’s no sign of stubble, in-grown hairs, irritation, scarring…
I licked the smooth folds of her pussy.
This woman is twice my age.
Whatever you do, do not start thinking about your mom again.
How did we get here anyways?
Then came a knock on the door.
Liv cackled hysterically and wondered out loud if we should invite him to join. I just laughed uneasily.
I can’t have Sean see me like this. What would he think?
What does he think already?
Does he know what’s happening?
Of course he knows, he’s not an idiot.
And he’s certainly not deaf.
How am I gonna be able to face him in the morning?
“No,” I said finally. “Definitely not. We have to spend the next two days in a car together.”
The door began to open, but Chad was already behind it to keep Sean from getting into the room. I have no idea what Chad said to him. He may very well have just told him to fuck off, but I feel like he must have used a few more words than that.
I don't know. Liv and I were both kneeling on the bed next to each other, waiting for the exchange to transpire.
Chad was still talking to Sean through the door. Liv’s hand was cupping my throat, and her middle finger was on my clit. She licked my cheek and slid her finger inside me - that may or may not be the first time that happened. It’s the first time I remember being penetrated by something other than her drunken gaze, anyways.
Am I moaning out loud or is it all in my head?
I genuinely couldn’t tell which bits were imagined and what was actually escaping into our hazy real world.
Chad came back to us, and the power dynamic shifted again. He pushed Liv aggressively down onto the bed.
Their kisses are actually menacing…
He gave her ass a ferocious slap from underneath – she’d practically lifted herself up off the bed at this point, the grip of her determined legs wrapped around his thick midsection. She wailed out, and blindly grabbed at my hair with the same belligerence.
Did I scream just now?
I imagined a silent exchange of permission between them before Chad looked over seeking a parallel look from me.
I also had no words. I looked to Liv, requesting absolution or authorization or whatever. She smiled and traced my jawline with the back of a manicured fingernail just like before, telling me not to worry. I smiled and relaxed a little.
Okay, but you have to admit that this is kind of a baffling contrast from that hair grab moments ago...
I reached up and stroked Chad's broad shoulder, inviting him down towards me.
They were both going down on me. Liv’s wily tongue. Chad’s thick fingers. I heard them taste me between their lips. Liv’s nails down the outside of my thigh. Chad’s slap on her ass.
They seemed to have forgotten about me. I was staring at the ceiling – it wavered, but thankfully wasn’t spinning.
Chad was panting over me, inside me.
He flipped me over, onto my front. I felt a soft sting on my ass.
What the fuck was that?
A riding crop?
It certainly wasn’t a human hand.
Biggest question: is it Chad or Liv delivering the blows?
The soft cracks came again and again in no particular rhythm. Some version of “Do you like that?” from Liv met with some form of “Yes” from me.
Presumably Chad’s thumb was inserted into my pussy. I clenched around the knuckle when the next crack fell to the fleshy part of my outer thigh.
The twinge of pain absolved me of my confusion, and just as I surrendered to my carnal deliverance, Chad’s cock jumped forcefully back inside. Effortlessly, I might add, because I was wet beyond all reason.
Far wetter than I have any business being considering how much I drank today.
Chad was still pounding me from behind, and Liv was in front of me. She laid spread eagle, knees wide, arms outstretched. She smelled…
With Chad’s thick cock deep in my cunt, thick hand on the back of my neck, he pressed my face down into Liv’s perfumed pussy.
My tongue was up, down, around, probing inside her. She might have been wailing.
I wonder if he’d want to be in here even if he was invited.
Chad slapped me again and I growled into the darkness of Liv’s cunt. Her fingers were weaved into my hair, pulling my reins and grinding me into her at the same time.
I think they’re talking to each other. For each other. About me.
Another snap of the whip…thing.
What the fuck is he hitting me with?
Then he tossed me aside with a hard smack from behind, with his broad palm that time, and plunged down into Liv. I'd rolled to one side to catch my breath and watched as he entered her, twisting her nipples at the same time.
They fuck like animals, but their eyes are still teeming with gushy love for each other.
That’s kind of amazing.
I lazily stroked from my lower back, over my ass, down my thighs and back up again, drawing out new pleasant sensations from the red-raw tread marks decorating my skin, while I watched as an orgasm screamed through her. Liv’s head lolled towards me as he bit down her neck.
“Baby,” she said without taking her dark eyes off of me. “I need her to come for us.”
She beckoned me closer. I crawled back up on my hands and knees, and leaned my face into her. I felt the aftershock pass from her mouth to mine, and I stroked her breasts – modest, soft, dark nipples on an olive backdrop.
I felt Chad’s hands wrap around behind me. Sneaking his fingers between my legs, teasing my lips apart while I sucked on his girlfriend’s.
His finger is inside me.
Her tongue is on mine.
He’s thumbing my clit.
Her nipple is between my teeth.
Two fingers are inside me.
Oh shit, his nose is between my ass cheeks now.
His tongue is everywhere.
Is that saliva or me dripping onto the sheets right now?
Liv’s fiery coal eyes were smiling at me. I think she was stroking Chad’s cock as he ate me out from behind, but I couldn’t really tell from the angle we’d taken.
I’m not sure if I’ll come tonight…
I mean, of course, I was stunned by the magnitude of the sensations I was feeling everywhere - I was incredibly aroused. But you know when you’ve had too much to drink, or you’re a little nervous, or just generally over-stimulated and the likelihood of actually getting off is pretty low?
Not impossible, of course, but between having a partner (or in this case, multiple partners) who didn't know me very well, and everything else that was going on, me achieving orgasm that night just seemed pretty unlikely.
“Baby,” Liv cooed again. “I want her to come for us.”
His tongue was still obediently lapping at my clit, sucking at my labia, teasing my perineum. He pulled my cheeks apart and probed deeper.
“Baby, I want her to come for us.”
He pulled away, and I felt the cooling sensation of the heavy, lascivious air licking at his absence.
My arms gave out and I collapsed. Liv lied next to me and coaxed me to roll over, to face her, and she fingered my labia apart.
“Come back here, baby. She still needs you.”
Just as her tongue dipped back into my mouth, his cock was inside me again. Her hand drew circles between my legs while he found his own rhythm.
He bowled over me, his thick hands pulling my legs wide and pushing them down into the mattress, as she bit my neck, along my collarbone.
I stroked my hand over the front of my neck, encouraging him to take over. – Choke me, just little a bit.
He clasped his hand on my throat – yeah, just like that – and Liv licked, then sucked, then bit down on my nipple.
I felt our fuses reaching a breaking point.
Crossed-wires. Electric bliss.
Man, that's beautiful - I should write that down when we're done.
Ha, as if I'll remember to do that before I pass out.
“Baby, I want her to come for us.”
I was still on my back. His hand was behind my head, pulling me harder and harder into him. They were looking at each other, kissing. I was looking at Liv. She was looking at me. He was pounding away. I was clutching the sheets underneath her with one hand. Clawing at the skin of my inner thigh with the other. She was scrubbing an ecstatic stain from my clit. Chad’s free hand was on Liv, adding more weight to his grip on my throat. I coughed.
Choking on potential.
We rocked at the precipice for so long that I thought I might learn the definition of hysteria. That this slow, contemptuous build might actually drive me to insanity. Then I finally fell off the edge and plunged into a pool of molten emancipation.
Baptized by the sweat of our makeshift holy trinity, I fell limp.
Mouth dry. Liv stroking me. Chad gone.
I heard voices, but no discernible words. I was already slipping away, drowning in my wicked font full of hedonism and debauchery.
Twilight. I awoke momentarily to the sounds and movements of Chad finally achieving his release.
Thump, thump, thump…
I pretended not to be disturbed, and then legitimately fell asleep again.
I woke up alone. Struggling to find my clothes, I forfeited my underwear to the jumble of clothing and towels and condom wrappers strewn about their bedroom floor.
(Almost) fully dressed, I went upstairs to grab the bag that apparently I never needed to bring inside in the first place. Sean was making his bed and gathering his things.
“Hey. How’re you doing today?”
I mean physically, but also… How ARE you after all of that…?
He didn't look up. “Fine.”
So, I left it at that and went back downstairs to the dining room where I found Liv in her pajamas, caressing a mug full of coffee.
“Hey, sweetie,” she said. Not a hint of awkwardness or discomfort. We’re all friends here now. “Want some coffee?”
“Yes, please.” I croaked. My throat was raw, sending me to flashbacks of silent screams and ferocious grips.
“Baileys too?” Chad called from the kitchen.
“What kind of question is that?” I snarled sarcastically. "Yes, obviously."
We all laughed in unison.
“So, talk about making new friends, hey?” She said it with what I now know to be her characteristically sassy voice. “How’s Sean doing this morning?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t really talked to him yet.” I paused to thank Chad for the coffee and took a sip. “He’s still upstairs.”
“You know,” she’s quieter now, “we don’t usually do stuff like this…”
“Stop right there,” I said, cutting her off. “I’m not here to judge. And for the record, it’s not exactly part of my regular routine either.”
We all scoffed and laughed again, clinking our mugs together.
Sean walked into the dining room and took a seat at the head of the table, between Liv and me.
“Morning, bud!” Chad said. “Coffee?”
“No,” he said groggily. “No thanks, I’m good.”
“How you feeling? You alright?”
“Well, I dunno,” he said, stretching his arms behind his head. "I got a fat lip. Jayne got laid. Can I get a do-over?”
I laughed a lot harder than I expected to.
When Liv half-seriously invited us to stay another day, I literally tripped over the seven – SEVEN?! – empty wine bottles collected at the front door as Sean and I dashed out.
We had intended to stop in Detroit en route to our final destination. But in the end, we told Detroit to lick our lips, and somehow, despite our savage hangovers and undeniable exhaustion, we wordlessly agreed to put as many miles between us and Chicago as we could instead.
(523 miles, to be exact. The French-Canadian border crossing guard was visibly skeptical of us – we couldn’t even remember what day it was – but we managed to get our tired asses all the way to Toronto before nightfall.)
“Man, it’s gonna be a long drive,” I’d said as Sean pulled us out of the driveway.
“Oh, fuck off, Jayne.” At the time, I couldn’t tell if he was angry or just fucking with me. And that was pretty much the extent of our conversation for the majority of the drive that day.
In fact, it would be well over a year before Sean and I even dare to compare (our hilariously inconsistent) notes about what went down that one freaky night in the suburbs of Chicago. But that’s a story for another time.
More by Queen Jayne:
The Birthday Bash
Comings and Goings
Diamonds and Pearls
The Edge of Glory
Expressions of Grief
For Dommestic Use Only
Strangers on a Train