Message-ID: <11195eli$9805121329@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: tonytony3@juno.com (anthony anthony) Subject: tonytony3's "Revenge of the Worst Kind" (mff, mmf, blackmail) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19980511.215309.16415.0.tonytony3@juno.com> Thanks to Sven the Elder who was first to point out my first posting of this story was screwed up. For those expecting more - here it is ================================================== tonytony3's "Revenge of the Worst Kind" (mff, mmf, blackmail) "I'm so upset. I trusted Ed, and he's screwing around!" My eyes were red from crying, I looked like hell. Marsha was the first person I saw after that awful phone call. Icouldn't help crying out to her, even though she wasn't that much of a friend. "Come on, Jayne, let's leave work now, and talk." Out of the ladies room, out of the office, to a dark bar. "Tell me what happened." "Helen called me. She's at the convention, too." Helen, Marsha, Ed, and I all work at the same fairly large company. My husband was out of town at an industry meeting, so was Helen. "Helen's staying at the Hilton, Ed's at the Marriot. She called to tell me she saw Ed leaving a room at the Hilton at 5 this morning, with a woman - it sure as hell wasn't me - and they both looked like they've been up screwing all night. DAMN HIM!" "Oh hell, I thought you two were solid." "So did I. I'm so fucking mad!!!" "Calm down. There's probably an innocent explanation." "There's an explanation all right. I talked to him at 9 last night. He was 'all tucked in for the night'. We had such big plans, our own business, everything - damn him!" I started crying again. Marsha used to date Ed, but he broke up with her, and later dated, then married, me. Ed would not like me being friends with an ex girl friend of his. But she understood. Her arm around my shoulder felt so good. I sobbed, leaning against her, felt her patting my back, felt - could it have been? - her kissing my hair. Well, that's the sort of thing a motherly person would do. After a bit more crying, and a few more drinks, Marsha offered, no, insisted, that I come to her apartment for a while, to talk. It sure wasn't a good time for me to be alone. I went. She made a salad, we had a small meal. We talked about man problems. She was pretty angry about Ed dropping her. "Your husband has a lot of enemies, you know. Lots of people don't like him." "I'm ready to join that club!" "He wasn't very nice to me," Marsha said. Ed told me she had been a flash in the pan, almost a one night stand. Right now anything bad anyone said about him rang true. "What do you mean?" "Well, he wanted to do weird stuff - like, did he ever ask you to, you know, do a three-some or anything?" "You know we've only been married a year, I've only known him for a couple of years, and he seemed straight and kind and all of that shit!" More tears, damn him! The life I hoped for was gone. I couldn't be with a guy I didn't trust. After a while she said "Jayne, I'm going to call a friend and ask him to come over. He's somebody else who hates Ed." "Who do you mean?" "Well, Tom White." Tom was a skirt chasing guy who worked for Ed until Ed downsized him out of his job. He and Ed, to say it least strongly, were mortal enemies. I, on the other hand, hardly knew Tom. "Ed wouldn't want me around him." "Please stay, Tom'll be able to help. Besides, Ed's a jerk. What he wants doesn't count right now." I didn't want to be alone, so I agreed. Tom arrived. He's a good looking man, not quite 6 feet tall, well built, long hair, and when Marsha explained what was wrong, was a warm and sympathetic person. I was impressed that he did not start off by bad mouthing my husband. After an hour I was sure it was time for me to go. We were in the living room, they were on the sofa, me on the chair, and I thought they wanted to be alone. I didn't want to impose any more on their privacy. "I'd better go."' "Look, we know you're hurting," Tom said. "Stay longer." He got up, refreshed our drinks, and when I reached for mine he took my hand, instead, and pulled me up. "Come, sit by us." I did, and in a moment was sitting on the sofa, with Tom between Marsha and me. In a few minutes I felt a comforting arm on, then around, my shoulder. Tom brought out a joint, lit up, shared it. I was still sad, sometimes crying, but getting mellow, too. The arm on my shoulder went to my cheek, turned my head to his. He moved toward me, I responded, our lips met, and the kiss went open mouthed by mutual consent. I'll have to tell Ed I was kissing Tom - that'll teach him. Well, my husband was fucking around, why shouldn't I kiss his enemy? "Ed wouldn't like knowing I kissed you." "Why would you tell him? Will he tell you who he's been kissing?" Marsha stood. "I'm sorry, Marsha, I'm interfering. I'll go home." "No. You are in no condition to drive. I just want to change. Stay here." Marsha turned on background music, and left the room. Tom, bolder, kissed me more aggressively, and I responded in kind. It was partly to get even with my husband, and partly because I needed the human contact. And, damn it, because it felt so good to have someone want to kiss me. My husband sure didn't. Marsha returned, wrapped in a robe. "Don't let me stop you, kids." She sat beside me, now I was between the two of them. "Your husband's a jerk," Marsha said, and Tom agreed. He said "Truth will be rewarded", leaned around me, kissed her. "Yes, he is," I agreed. "Oh, I'll reward you, too." By now I had drunk too much, and the pot and the music set too seductive a mood. Marsha, sensing the mood, said "Jayne, you can't leave here in your condition. You can stay tonight. I have plenty of room." One part of my brain found that questionable, but another part, the part that liked the wine and the pot and the company said "You're right. And I am very sleepy. And maybe I had a little too much wine and stuff." Marsha collected my wine glass, filled it, pulled me by the hand to the bed room. The bed room was neat, feminine, the bed all made up, complete with stuffed animals on it. "You change, too." "Into what?" I slurred. "Here's a camisole, there's a robe." She left, and I got into bedclothes. I few minutes later I emerged changed and found Tom and Marsha in an embrace. "Sorry - I'll stay in the bed room." "No, come here. We're just good friends" - that, from Marsha. I did. Was positioned between them, and liked the contact. I felt secure, safe. "Ed doesn't know a good thing when he has it" - that, from Tom. "That's the truth" - from me. "Reward the truth, Jayne" suggested, no, insisted, Marsha. So I turned to Tom and kissed him. Marsha stood, then, got more wine for all of us. Another joint appeared, was lit, shared. Tom, out loud, said what I thought. "I think it's time for Ed to learn a lesson." "I think so, too." Marsha agreed, sitting beside Tom.. "I think he'd go crazy if he knew I was with you guys." "I'll make him crazier," Tom said, and turned to me, shifting me, and himself, until we were lying on the sofa, body to body, heads in Marsha's lap.. He kissed me. Pressed me against the sofa. Comforted me. One part of my mind shouted a warning, but the other welcomed the attention. That side won, at least for the moment. Besides, the pressure of his body along mine felt good. I was still attractive to some men. Marsha's arm was touching my shoulder, then my neck, while I was being kissed, and kissing back. I was drunk, and high, and hornier than I realized. But this was safe, what could happen that was bad, except for a little kissing and hugging? After all, there were three of us here. Marsha didn't help the mood. "Tom, you know I dated Ed for a while," she said, "And he asked me to do a three-some with him. I never did, though." It was obvious, but it just struck home. "You must have been sleeping with Ed for him to ask you that!" "Sure. He was a horny guy. It was before he dated you, but yes." "Shit!" Ed wondered aloud "Did he ever ask you, too, Jayne?" "He never said anything, bust sometimes when we were making love I wandered what he was thinking about. . ." "Oh, you wait and see. I'll bet he'll never ask about having another man, so you'd get the most attention. It'll be with two momen. We used to travel on business together, and he was always screwing around." "Shit shit shit!" His lips covered mine, shutting me up. "Maybe this is the way to get even," Marsha said - and I must admit I was thinking the same thing. But: "I don't want to be in a three some. . ." I didn't realize my comment implied a two-some was OK! "Me neither," Marsha said, "but you know, if Tom's willing, you guys could have some fun, and you'll be doing the same thing Ed is. . ." Being with them was so comforting, so inviting, so welcome. . . "Oh, I like this," Tom muttered. "Maybe for a while. . .": that was consent, from me. She and Tom exchanged a look. She stood, went into the bed room. In a few minutes she returned, watched us holding each other, prone on the sofa. "Come with me," she said, interrupting us, and took Tom's hand, and mine. I went, with them. Her bed was turned down, the room was a bit messier, closet door open, and the room was brighter than before. Tom pulled me onto the bed. Between them! It still felt good. "I don't want a three-some" I protested again, but was hushed first by Tom's hand, then his lips. "It's not, really. I'll just help everyone be comfortable in my house," she said. In a moment Tom's arms were around me again, he was kissing me again. I wanted him to. Marsha was prone, too, behind me, pressing into me, pressing me into him, and at least one of his hands, behind me, was moving, I thought against her breast. "This'll teach him," someone - maybe me? said. My arms were around Tom, his were around me, but one of hers found its way to the back of my knee, pushing at it, until I let that leg do what it wanted, and what she wanted, and what Tom wanted, and I lifted it over Tom's hip. A classic lover's position. Every woman knows what that feels like, a man laying on his side, you, with a leg over his, spread out, at least suggesting availability. Was I? But I didn't do that, I didn't move my leg, Marsha did, my wine soaked brain said, so it's all right. Tom, kissing me, pushed his hips between my legs, muttering he liked the feeling. I was trapped between them, and felt compelled to stay, feeling him push me, feeling her, behind me, hold me to him. It wasn't me doing anything. Tom's lips were on mine, his tongue on mine, holding me tight. It felt so good, being between them. Then her hand was between us - was she going to touch me? A warning sounded in my mind, then were silenced. No, she was stroking him, his cock, through his pants, that was what I was feeling. That's OK, she's doing the touching, and it's her place, she can do what she wants here. I felt more motions, realized Marsha was doing something to his belt. I moved my hips back a little to give her room. I heard a zipper, felt more shifting while we were kissing, lapping at each other, pressure along his body from the front, from hers, along the back. Well, kissing is all right, I thought. And Marsha can do whatever she wants, it's her house. And hand. And it was exciting to be doing this to my husband's enemy, permission granted, I knew, because Ed had screwed around! I felt Marsha's hand reach over me again, around Tom's back, and grasp my hand by the wrist. It wasn't me doing it, it was her. My hand was guided from his back, over his hip, to between us. It felt nice. And then, with her hand still on my wrist, she guided me again, deeper between Tom and me. I shifted a little, to create room for our hands - that was only polite. I felt his shirt, but then I felt an open belt, open buttons, skin. The kissing stopped. I pulled my head away from him, looked at him, and he, at me, while Marsha guided my hand a little lower. It reached over the elastic of his shorts. That was OK, I thought, touching him through his shorts. Marsha said "No, darling, not like that. Like this." She brought my hand up again, pressed my fingers down a little, so that now they were under the elastic, on flesh, feeling hair. Tom stared into my eyes as Marsha pushed my hand lower, into thicker hair, then onto something else - a penis, not quite hard. And down along the shaft, to a soft scrotum, too. She released my wrist, her hand covered mine, moving my fingers over him, so sexy. She moved my hand to the shaft, closed my fingers on it, started me moving my hand. It was Marsha doing it, but somehow, when her hand left mine, my hand's motion continued. "Doesn't he feel nice?" "Yes." I could feel a gentle heat, a soft, slowing enlarging shaft. Her hand pulled out, began some other activity. It was working on the sash of my robe. I had begun kissing Tom again, and I wasn't opening it, so it was all right. I continued touching Tom, felt Marsha busy some more. She took his hand from around my back, guided it, so he was stroking my face. "Isn't she nice to touch, so soft. . ." "I love it," said Tom, agreeing. "Me too" came from my lips, then I moved so I could kiss him again. Marsha was wonderful, being helpful, unselfish. He broke the kiss, stared into my eyes while his hand was moved, supervised by hers, down my neck, paused on my breast, - sharp intake of my breath when he - they - did that. His hand, and hers, moved more, over my hip, and down my thigh. "I still love it," he said, and I, being thrilled, excited, agreed :"Me too." My hand somehow increased pressure on his penis as his hand moved to my leg, covered by the robe. I felt the robe move, Marsha was pulling it, until his hand was on the outer side of my thigh, on my skin. "Do you want me to show you what Ed was doing last night?" Marsha asked. I nodded, still staring at the man whose cock I was stroking. Now his hand was being moved up my leg, higher, and between them, until it found my panty protected crotch. I felt his hand being guided higher still, to the waistband of my panties, and then, it was on my belly. And it felt nice! His hand, hers, too, was rubbing my belly, and moving over the top of the panties. "Maybe you should help" Marsha said. I didn't want to move the hand holding his cock, but did. I pulled it from his pants, put it between us, found her hand holding his wrist, moved mine lower, over his hand , to his fingers, just touching the elastic waist band of my panties. I lifted the waist band over his fingers. Brought that hand back, over his, over hers. "Go on, show us what you want. . ." Forgive me, God, but I pushed at her hand, at his, started them both moving again, now against my skin, lower than my belly, moving between my legs. I knew what they must think about me, with my legs still parted, one on the bed, the other over his hip. I watched his face as his fingers moved over my pubic hair, then lower. My own hand found his cock again, in time to feel it start to enlarge, as his fingers found the top of my vulva, moved into it, into its heat, feeling as wet as I had even been, finding my clit, touching it, making me see lightening flashes, making my body twitch, and jerk. His cock was larger now, as his fingers stroked me and explored me and excited me. Her hand moved, over the back of his, then over his fingers, hers finding his moving in me, then over his, until her fingers were at my lips, then in, lower, and deeper, probing, expanding me, widening me. I knew my mouth was open, my face glowing red. I couldn't help myself, but moved my leg even more over his hip, so that as his hand and her hand had easier access to me. He had my clit between thumb and forefinger, pinching, teasing, and she had two fingers in me, spreading me- no, it had to be three, two holding me apart, the third probing, touching. . . My own hand stopped stroking his cock, now almost erect, because everything they were doing was so distracting. "Oh, I think she likes this, Tom." "Do you, Jayne?" I was silent. Their stroking me ended as though by some unspoken command. "Yes, I do, don't stop." There was motion behind me. I looked to see Marsha sitting up, taking off her robe, exposing a modest camisole. Her arm motions raised it, so I could see no panties under it. No bra, either. "Now you can, too", she suggested, pulling at my robe. I sat up, and in a moment it was off, too, but the cotton camisole covered my breasts, panties, moist now, offering critical protection - for the moment. My wined loosened tongue spoke before I had a chance to edit the statement. "We're in night clothes, what about him?" "We'll do him, too." She moved to the head of the bed, tugged at his shirt, he helped, it was off over his head in a moment. He reached for me again, the kissing started again, his open pants a source of a lot of body heat. "Will this be a good lesson for Ed?" I nodded my reply. Marsha knelt at his head, told me to go to the foot of the bed, and I did, kneeling at his feet. She pushed, I pulled, he shifted a bit, lifted his hips, and we both watched as his pants left his legs, leaving behind jockey shorts hiding an almost erect cock. "Let me show you how to make that bigger," she said, and leaned over his head, her scoop neckline exposing her breasts to me, until her mouth was on his belly. Her mouth found the erection covered by his shorts, she nuzzled it. She sat up, reached over him, to me kneeling at his feet. Her hand went behind my neck, pulled at me, until my head was hovering over his cock. "Think of what Ed was doing last night. Wouldn't this be a sweet revenge?" I nodded, looking down at his shorts, tented by his erection. "Well, damn it, do me!" Tom said. "Take his shorts off, Jayne." I sat back, pulled at them, watched his cock spring free, watched as he moved both legs to the side, kicked the shorts free of his legs. Watched as he put his legs on either side of me. -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----