Lost Cat: Reward

“Ugh… what kind of ‘grownup’ doesn’t own a coffeemaker?” I groused as I struggled out of John’s low platform bed. Finally upright, I looked out the open bedroom window at the sunny, Spring morning. John’s inadequate kitchen hadn’t occurred to me, nor had his eighteen-inches-off-the-ground mattress, when I agreed to stay at his apartment to cat and plant-sit while he was out of town for yet another work trip. I decided that for his birthday, I would correct that appliance deficiency, regardless of whether he himself drank coffee.

I deliberated corralling my D-cups into a bra before leaving for the coffee shop but nixed that idea. Instead, I threw on one of John’s hoodies over the thin grey t-shirt that I had slept in and pulled on a pair of pink running shorts over my teal thong. Slipping sneakers onto my bare feet, I completed my midweek morning work-from-home outfit.

Before I left, I stopped at the kitchen sink and filled the watering can, then crossed to John’s windowsill menagerie of snake and spider plants. As I watered his plants, Cinnamon, John’s orange long-haired cat lunged from beneath a bookcase and attacked my bare ankle, then scurried to the other room. I dropped the can in surprise, cursing the animal as water pooled across the hardwood.

“Dammit, Cinnamon! Ugh, I wish John had a fish instead…” I muttered as I crawled on my hands and knees, mopping up the spill. Standing, I propped my foot on a chair and checked my scratches for bleeding. Finding no blood, I tossed the wet rag into the sink, then picked the wedgie that had intruded into my crack during my crawling. I straightened my shorts, grabbed John’s key and my wallet, then headed for the coffee shop. Behind me, the apartment door thumped loudly in its old wooden frame.

Returning twenty minutes later, I huffed as I ascended the final flight of stairs to John’s fourth-floor walkup. In one hand I carefully cradled a large latte; the other clutched a paper bag containing a bagel. I mounted the last step, then turned toward John’s apartment. In my alarm, the bag dropped to the floor; I barely recovered in time to save my coffee.

The door to the apartment hung ajar. The last thing John had told me before he left was a reminder that the latch on his front door sometimes jammed behind the faceplate. In fact, many doors in his apartment were prone to drifting open due to age and swelling of the wood, especially with the windows opened. Last night I had nearly brained myself on an unexpectedly open closet door walking to the bathroom in the dark. John stressed to make certain the lock caught each time I shut the front door – and jiggle the knob to doublecheck – otherwise the door could unlatch. He’d joked about a neighbor walking in while I was changing, but I understood that his real concern was the escape-minded cat.

I dashed inside, whispering “Cinnamon… Cinnamon!” begging the cat to appear as I fruitlessly searched the rooms. Back out in the hallway, I rushed from one end of the floor to the other, checking the trash and laundry rooms, but found nothing. I nervously chewed the inside of my cheek as I returned to the apartment, recalling with dismay that the lobby doors were propped open for a tenant’s move.

Sipping coffee as I sat down on the couch, I racked my brain for ideas. A text flashed on my phone screen; John, “Touring a supplier warehouse this afternoon. How are you and Cinnamon getting along <3?” I turned the phone facedown, a wave of nauseating guilt surged in my fog of panic.

“Flyers…” I timidly suggested aloud in the empty, cat-less apartment. I opened my laptop and started a new document. “LOST CAT” I typed in large, bold letters across the top line. I pulled and cropped a picture of the cat off John’s social media and pasted it in the middle of the page above its name, then added John’s address and my cell number beneath. I stared at the screen a moment longer, then added in big, block letters at the bottom “REWARD!”.

I hastily hit “Print” and drained John’s color cartridge with twenty copies. I hung flyers in the stairwell, the lobby, and in the building’s office. Outside the building, I affixed sheets to street poles and ducked into nearby stores asking cashiers to hang them. Each store I went into readily agreed, except for one bodega owner who made me buy something before he would post the sign. “Bulletin board is for customers only!” The man chided. I bought a can of soda and chugged it while standing at the counter, then shoved the flyer into his hands and marched off indignantly.

Sweat was glistening on my brow and soaking through the sweatshirt by the time I reclimbed the stairs and returned to the apartment. I checked my phone as I entered, firmly shutting the door and jimmying the knob to ensure the latch caught. The only message on the screen was John’s from earlier.

Clawing free of the hoodie as I slumped back on the couch, I tossed the damp sweatshirt into a nearby chair, then kicked away my shoes as I drank the last of my coffee. “He’ll turn up…” I reassured myself, unconvincingly. “He can’t have gone far… someone will find him. And he’s got tags on his collar…”

I wiped a trickle of sweat from my jaw, then noticed the soggy armpits of my tee. “Guh!” I recoiled and whipped off the soiled shirt without contemplating the large, open windows in the sun-filled living room. “Eep!” I shrieked self-consciously, then hurried, barefoot and topless, through John’s apartment to the bedroom, hoping no one in the building across the street was snooping on me and my naked, bopping rack. I found a thin yellow tank top in my overnight bag, ducked my arms and boobs into the meager singlet, then returned to the couch.

After failing to get any work done and finding myself unable to eat my cold bagel, I turned on the TV but couldn’t focus and frustratedly switched off the set. As time passed, I realized that my gloom went beyond the prospect of hurting John; I was genuinely upset that the cat (which had always hated me) was lost.

I pulled out my laptop again, pulling up the Humane Society page to see if Cinnamon had been taken to the shelter. Finding nothing there, I checked Craigslist but found no mention of a fat, unpleasant orange cat. Outside the window, clouds scuttled across the sky, solidifying into a level grey. The wind picked up and the temperature in the apartment cooled noticeably. I considered crawling back into John’s hoodie but first carried my breakfast trash to the bin in the kitchen.

As I dumped my empty coffee cup and uneaten bagel in the trash can, I jumped at a loud knock on the front door. I hurried through the apartment as quickly as my bare feet would take me. Putting my eye to the peephole, two black men filled the field of vision, one of whom clung cautiously to a writhing, furious looking Cinnamon. I flung open the door in my excitement; I had never imagined how happy I would be to see John’s dreadful cat.

“Ohmygodthankyou!!” I hollered excitedly, rushing to grab the animal from the stranger’s arms. My bra-less tits bobbled merrily as I dove through the doorway. “MrrrOWlllrrrr,” Cinnamon yowled in response, obviously less pleased to see me.

Clutching the struggling cat against my chest, I urgently waved the men into John’s apartment with my free arm, dumping Cinnamon into the hall as I held open the door. He hissed and ran off to ‘his’ chair in the corner of the living room. Jumping into the seat, the cat set to irritably cleaning itself while staring daggers at our group. I released the door after they entered, hearing it clunk heavily behind us.

Composing myself, I assessed Cinnamon’s saviors. Both were tall, handsome black men, dressed in polos and khaki shorts, and each wore a lanyard around his neck. I eagerly ushered the strangers to the couch, casting a suspicious glance over my shoulder at the beast in the corner, before taking a seat myself in the chair occupied by my discarded sweatshirt.

“Thank you so much.” I repeated, calmer this time and not mashing my words together. “Do you guys live in the neighborhood? Oh, I’m Sarah, by the way!” I realized that in my hasty relief, I had forgotten an introduction, and rushed to add it on the end. Both men smiled as they exchanged a look to decide who would speak. The man who had handed me Cinnamon spoke first.

“Well, I’m Avery, and that’s Jonas.” Avery gestured, and Jonas nodded in introduction then turned to look at the array of plants on the windowsill. “And no, we’re actually just in town for a convention. Our hotel is a couple blocks, uh… that way…?” He pointed uncertainly through the apartment towards the wall separating the living room from the bedroom. In his chair, Cinnamon paused his cleaning a moment, turning his head to follow Avery’s finger, then dismissively returned to his bath.

“It’s really nice to meet you both!” I smiled and returned Jonas’s nod. “So, do you travel the country rescuing lost pets and performing other good deeds?”

Jonas answered. “Haha, well, when we’re not saving cats, we have day jobs as science teachers. The Hyatt is hosting a high school STEM seminar, and we were out for a walk between sessions when we spotted – ‘Cinnamon’ was it? – hunting in the alley.” His eyes left the window-garden to make eye contact, then drifted downward to my thinly concealed chest. He interrupted his own gawking with a short cough. “Avery, here, is the animal lover – I’m a botanist, myself. He has a dog at home that he’d do anything for. So, when we saw a cat with tags, he wouldn’t stop until he made sure it was safe.”

We turned as a group toward Cinnamon, who froze in an undignified pose mid-bath and returned our gaze with a glare of disdain. “Well, I can’t thank you enough! I’m more of a dog person, too, honestly, but I was heartbroken when that cat got out.” I replied.

The men surveyed the apartment appraisingly.

“So, it’s your… boyfriend’s cat…?” Avery asked. My mouth opened, amused at his deduction. He continued, “You’ll have to excuse my assumption, but you don’t seem like a ‘framed World Series poster’ kind of woman.” I laughed, nodding in agreement as I considered John’s ‘painfully clichéd guy’ living room décor. A silent moment passed, and I noticed Avery’s attention was no longer on the posters on the walls but was instead now examining me.

I broke the silence, “You caught me! No, I’m not much of a baseball fan… honestly, not much of a fan of Cinnamon, either. Oh, also, if you’re staying at the Hyatt, it’s three blocks that way.” I pointed out the windows, through the apartment building that had gotten a free show earlier. Outside the unexpected clouds had opened with a sudden burst of showers. “I don’t want you getting lost in the rain after your heroics!” We shared a laugh that died out with our unfamiliarity, then sat listening to the downpour.

With a jump, I recalled the promise on my flyer. “I owe you guys a reward!” I blurted out, breaking the rainy stillness in the apartment. The teachers startled at my loud declaration but seemed like they’d accept compensation if it was offered.

I searched the living room for my wallet, while a creeping sense of loss grew in the margins of my mind. My clutch wasn’t on the table or counter, nor in the pouch of my sweatshirt. I held up a finger to the guys, pleading for patience as I hurried back to the bedroom, but it wasn’t with my bag or on the dresser or bedside table, either.

The dreadful realization towered in my brain. In my memory, I pictured myself in the bodega as I huffily pulled out a bill then rested the wallet on the counter while I chugged the soda. In horror, I watched myself leave the wallet lying next to the cash register as I stalked off in my sulk.

I glanced at the mirror, watching myself retrace my steps. My reflection showed my intent face but betrayed more. Reacting to the growing chill in the apartment, goosebumps had risen on my arms. But, more notably, my chest was vividly responding to the cooling air and the high emotion of the afternoon. Brazen through the flimsy cloth of my tank top, my nipples were screaming a rigid, silent alarm. The erect nubs jutted out from the centers of my ripe tits; the sheer yellow material even gave away a hint of my pale rose areola around the rigid nip. I cursed silently, recalling the hoodie lying on the chair.

“No wonder they’re staring.” I muttered, then blushed at the warming thought of the interested gawking from the attractive strangers. “There’s no harm in them looking a little more… especially since I can’t find my purse.” I rationalized. Hoping to soften the letdown with charm – and, failing that, with tits – I returned to my company.

“Shit… guys, you’re not gonna believe this, but I misplaced my wallet.” I held my arms out helplessly. My unrestrained breasts wobbled with my movement; my stiff nips grazed against the thin top. All eyes were on me and my bust. “I mean, I know where it is, but I don’t have it with me right now.”

They exchanged a mutual ‘I knew it!’ glance. “Huh… Well, no worries.” Avery said, an edge of frustration – maybe even a whiff of resentment? – to his voice.

“Yeah… we should get back to the hotel. There’s a zoology panel before dinner that Avery wanted to attend.” Jonas concurred. They started to stand.

I felt terrible, like I’d taken advantage of the kindness of these strangers. In fact, it was worse; I felt like I’d lied! I desperately scrambled for an alternative.

“Hey! How about some beers?” I proposed. “It’s a hot day,” I remembered my chilled, rigid nipples and revised, “or it was hot. It’s raining anyway! You don’t want to walk back without umbrellas, right? So how about a beer while you wait for the storm to pass?”

They nodded agreeably, settling into their seats. Relieved, I gladly bopped to the kitchen. I added a conspicuous spring in my step, letting my D-cups put on an extra bouncy show for my guests.

My revised compensation plan immediately hit a snag. Upon opening John’s cabinet, I was reminded that he didn’t own beer mugs. Muttering under my breath for the second time today at his deficient kitchen gear, I grabbed a pair of juice glasses and set them on the counter. The plan further collapsed when I opened the fridge; a lone bottle of Belgian white stood at the back of the cooler. Dividing the lonely beer between the two glasses, I assessed the embarrassing offering.

“Dammit, John…” I mumbled, blaming him as my mood of dishonesty returned. I grabbed the cups and returned to the living room.

Setting the beers in front of my visitors, I spied their raised eyebrows as they judged my inadequate reward. “Guess I should have checked the fridge before I offered beers I didn’t have; it feels like I still owe you guys.” I stood awkwardly across the table, arms crossed, breasts riding my forearms.

Jonas and Avery quietly sipped their beers. They gauged the rain outside, understandably frustrated at my continuing failures to furnish any proper reward, as I had promised. They grew restless in their disappointment, seeming on the verge of chancing the downpour to escape from my deceit. It felt as if the only thing keeping them on the couch was my bubbly, busty display.

“Look, we’re glad your – er, your boyfriend’s – cat is safe.” Jonas spoke. He reached into his pocket. “But I have an idea for how you can ‘reward’ us, seeing as how your wallet is missing and your – I mean, your boyfriend’s – fridge is empty…” he pulled out his phone and set it on the table. His eyes returned to my chest. Avery finished his minuscule beer, setting the cup down and joining his friend in ogling.

It seemed obvious to me what Jonas and Avery were expecting. And, honestly, after my accumulating failures to deliver, that demand didn’t feel unreasonable. As always, this was all John’s fault! If John had a functioning front door – hell, if John had a coffeemaker, like a normal adult! – Cinnamon wouldn’t have gotten out, these strangers wouldn’t have returned the cat to now sit on his couch, and I wouldn’t be jammed without money or beer to give them as a reward. If this was all I had to offer to balance the ledger, then I didn’t feel wrong delivering it.

“Okay, I guess that seems fair…” I smiled mischievously. Jonas picked up his phone. “No pictures, though.” I warned. He looked confused but replaced the phone on the table.

I gripped the bottom hem of my tank, slowly lifting the yellow fabric and revealing my flat tummy as it rose. Another couple inches and the lower swells of my breasts were exposed. My tongue darted out, playfully licking my lips as I hesitated there for a teasing second. Satisfied that my play had gone on long enough, I relented and propped the top above my bulging rack. My snowy, swollen tits seemed to glow in the gloomy living room; my erect nipples jutted from the pale areola discs from the combination of the cool breeze from the open windows and the excitement of my show.

Avery and Jonas sat agog, mouths hanging open. I was pleased and flattered by their awed reactions; by their frozen gawking I imagined they’d both craved this glimpse from the instant I opened the door and they caught sight of my concealed, fleshy mounds. At the sight of the men – strangers I’d met less than an hour ago – blatantly lusting after me, a warm, mischievous arousal dampened between my legs. The naughty fact I was displaying my naked tits to these strangers in my boyfriend’s apartment sent drops of moisture beading between the bald lips of my pussy. I would have to take care of myself after they left, I reasoned, or I’d never be able to get any work done.

Stunned silence persisted in the room. The only noise was the sound of traffic navigating the rainy street outside. Jonas composed himself enough to respond.

“Wow!” Jonas broke the silence. “Okay, I was gonna suggest exchanging numbers, and you could buy us lunch tomorrow after you found your purse… but this is really good too!” Both strangers burst into animated laughter but didn’t avert their gaze for an instant.

“Oh…” I replied, feeling foolish – not to mention slutty – for assuming my jugs would be the bargain. I started to lower my shirt.

“Whoa hold on!” Avery jumped up from the couch and reached across the table to grab my elbow. Jonas stretched to catch my other arm. I froze, caught in the sudden flurry of activity that fixed my singlet tucked atop my exposed breasts.

“But I thought-” I stammered. Jonas interrupted me.

“No! No no no!” Jonas insisted, clasping my hand in his own. “We like your idea more! Trust me…”

Avery nodded enthusiastically, his hand still clutching my elbow. “Way better than a beer!”

I smirked, satisfied to hold up my end of the bargain. While John likely wouldn’t approve of my methods, all he would ever need to know was that Cinnamon was safely asleep in his chair. It was amazing, really, how easily men could be manipulated. They’d turn to putty in your hands if you just showed some ti-

“Yeeep!” I squealed as Avery pinched my sensitive nipple between his thumb and forefinger, derailing my internal monologue. My arm was still restrained by his other hand, as I watched his palm and other fingers trace across the bulb of my breast. “I think you’re just supposed to look…” I forced myself to protest, struggling tepidly against Avery’s hold on my arm; the truth was that his touch was fueling the steamy trembling between my legs.

“Ah, but you didn’t say that.” Jonas chuckled as he cupped my other globe. “Now, we don’t want money – and you don’t have any beer – but you’ve found something we can all enjoy. Then we’ll be square.”

I nodded and moaned softly at the feel of the second hand on my bust. My rigid nipple rolled beneath Jonas’s palm while Avery tweaked and tugged lightly at the nub on my other side.

“Mmm… okay…” I panted; my verbal consent barely audible while my body plainly agreed. The men released their restraining grips on my arms, freeing their hands to roam my body. Avery’s hand flew to my back, then up the open leg of my shorts to squeeze my buttocks. Jonas’s hand gripped the back of my now-purposeless tank top and dragged it up and over my head.

With my top reduced to a ring of fabric looping my biceps, I shrugged the shirt off my arms and let it drop at my feet. Now truly topless, I gasped at the feel of the four strange, strong hands groping my body. My eyelids fluttered with the lustful sensation. My arousal was heightened by the thrill of my wicked circumstances, allowing two strangers to strip and molest me in my boyfriend’s apartment.

I cast a wary glance over my shoulder at Cinnamon in his chair, a gesture Avery found amusing. “Nah, don’t worry about him. He won’t tell on you.” He beamed, “Besides, he’s asleep.”

Avery’s hand on my ass retreated outside my running shorts. With a caress of my cheeks as it passed, his hand roamed upwards until it reached the base of my bare back. Clenching his fingers into the elastic waist of the pink shorts, Avery yanked them off my hips. The shorts’ downward momentum stopped halfway down my buttocks and thighs, but the narrow waist and “T” back of my teal thong was exposed to my guests. Giggling compliantly, I pulled the elastic band out away from my thighs and writhed my hips to drop the shorts to the floor. I rested a balancing hand on Jonas’s shoulder as I stepped out of the pooled trunks, then kicked the discarded heap of polyester away towards the window.

I stood wearing only my teal thong, bookended between the two towering ebony strangers. My height disadvantage felt more evident without clothes; and with that amplified shortness, I felt somehow even more vulnerable and exposed than I already was, in my mostly-nakedness. If only I was wearing some heels, I wouldn’t feel dwarfed like this, I mused fleetingly. Any shred of hesitation evaporated. My fingers clawed wildly at both of their shirts, lifting the polos up and over their heads.

“You showed us yours; I guess it’s fair that we show you ours.” Avery said with an enthusiastic nod as they undressed.

They each kicked away their shoes, then helpfully unclasped their belts and unbuttoned their khaki shorts. I leaned my naked chest into Avery’s body, kissing across his muscular pecs as my fingers deftly plucked and unzipped his fly. Turning to Jonas, I copied my motions, pressing my bare, tingling tits against his chest as I undid his zipper. Both men’s trunks dropped to John’s floor with a jangle of belt buckles on the hardwood.

The twin black cocks threshed between us, pointing at me determinedly. The broad, round tips brushed against my hips, contrasting starkly against my pale skin. Each glans left a faint track of precum as it swept and butted against me.

Each of my small, white hands wrapped around a thick, ebony cock. The pipes throbbed and shuddered in my grip, eager and potent. I drew them without a word, and we moved as a unit from the living room into John’s bedroom. We reached the bed and our trio rotated so that the two men touched the backs of their calves to the low mattress. Both tall strangers reclined on the cushion, their rangy legs bent upward in peaks higher than the top of the bed. I felt a pang of embarrassment that my company saw the unmade sheets, but neither man appeared bothered.

My fingers still grasped their erect rods as I bent at the waist following them down. My round breasts dangled below me, ripe and springy below my ribs. While I hated the look and feel of John’s low bed, as I dropped to my knees between the expectant cocks, I had to admit that the mattress a foot and a half off the floor was going to make fellatio much more convenient.

Kneeling, I looked between the naked visitors. With a dick in each hand, I began to patiently crank the pair of tools. A larger trickle of precum seeped from the tip of Avery’s anticipative prick. The watery ooze ran down his shaft, weaving into my fingers. Since he had been the one to corral Cinnamon, it felt fair to start with him.

I leaned forward, running my flattened tongue the length of his pole, and lapping up the spreading line of thinly salty precum. Reaching the top, I bent my tongue into a point and looped the rim of his glans. He groaned in earnest anticipation, but I didn’t keep him waiting. I opened my jaws and took his member into my mouth. The thick cock packed my mouth, but I pushed downward with my neck, jamming my lips further down his shaft. His tip tickled the back of my palate, and I withdrew him with a gasp.

Drawing in a deep breath, I immediately drove my mouth onto Jonas’s dick. His bulbous head battered across my tongue and into the back of my mouth. Closing my eyes dutifully, I wrapped my lips tightly around his shaft, constricting them around the broad, black pipe. He groaned excitedly as I swirled my tongue around his pole, while cramming his tip into the back of my throat. Trickles of foamy saliva bubbled from the corners of my lips while my overfull mouth hummed and twisted around his tool.

As I nodded, my loose hair tumbled in front of my face and threatened to tangle into my mouth (and snag on the dick in it). I took the black elastic off my wrist and – without opening my eyes or removing my lips from Jonas’s cock – secured my hair into a ponytail high on the back of my head.

“Always prepared, like a slutty Boy Scout. I admire that.” Avery quipped. I opened my eyes and shot him a smoldering glance, smiling sweetly around the dick in my mouth. My eyes confirmed his remark.

I released Jonas with another greedy gulp of air as I straightened, feeling the spray of misty spit fly off my lips as I puffed. Both of my hands remained active, vigorously pumping each man’s drooly pipe. My hand on Jonas’s rod continued jerking him as I returned my lips to Avery’s cock, traveling his entire length – from tip to base – in one smooth motion. His glans struck the rear of my throat and more slobber frothed out of my mouth, spilling over my lips, and coating his shaft and balls. I held him at that deepest penetration, with his broad tip stuffed into my throat, for a long, gagging, spit-soaked moment, before again releasing him.

I uncurled my spine again, rising between the visitors’ outstretched knees. Slobber pooled from my lips, dribbling off my chin and speckling my bust. As my hands resumed their double-fisted duties on the strangers’ pricks, the double handjob movements set my jugs wiggling and bouncing to my guests’ rapt delight. Below, I felt the back of my thong tug and strain deeper into my crack as the aqua fabric was pulled taut by the motions of my back and shoulders.

Again, my mouth covered Jonas’s dick. Churning my tongue on his knob as my lips rose and fell over his length, I ‘mmmmm’d my deep satisfaction at taking the unfamiliar cock in my mouth. Sealing my lips around his shaft, I bobbed my head rapidly up and down his pipe. Switching to Avery’s tool, my mouth quickly regained that vigorous pace, enthusiastically bucking my mouth in his lap. As I exchanged my mouth between the throbbing cocks, the reclining men chatted.

“I told you we’d find something better to do than that zoology panel.” Jonas said with a laugh, his voice pitching upward as my tongue wound around his sensitive head before I pulled my lips away.

“Hey man, this is educational! We’re learning about the mating habits of the American White Girl!” his friend replied, grinning merrily and brushing a loose strand of red hair away from my face as my devoted mouth resumed its duties on his dick.

I returned his gaze, my wide blue eyes watering as I took his cock deep into my throat. His thick manhood pulsed forcefully between my lips. Coiling my tongue around his pipe, my mouth jogged its repeating course from his glans to base. My head dipped excitedly over his tool as the crotch of my panties soaked into a sweltering swamp.

As my mouth rotated back to Jonas’s prick, Avery hoisted himself from the bed. My shoulders turned, towed by my pale fist’s hold on his writhing pole. I gamely kept my mouth wrapped around Jonas’s dick, my lips sucking insistently as my body was pulled away. When Avery moved in behind my hunched form, my hand let go, but my mouth merrily filled with Jonas’s cock as my upper body was released.

“Mffweee!” I squealed around Jonas’s shaft as Avery’s large hands encircled the ticklish softness of my waist. Disregarding my whining, he lifted me off the floor. Jonas clasped both of his hands around the back of my head, holding my mouth in place on his dick as I was hoisted and shifted.

Avery positioned me along the edge of the bed. Fingertips scraped across my lower back and dug under the waist of my thong. Gripping the band, Avery tugged the panties down my hips. Lifting one knee, then the other, I compliantly allowed him to remove the last blue-green wisp of clothing from my body.

Now entirely nude, my puffy, moist lips glistened invitingly between my parted thighs. Jonas kept his hands at the back of my head, tangling his fingers into my auburn hair as he fed his dick to me. Lying at right angles to his reclining body, I moaned around his pole, my lips tightly puckered around his cock. I lashed my tongue over his pipe, and he let out his own groan of appreciation of my efforts.

The cushion sank behind me as Avery knelt between my calves. His strong hands molded my buttocks, separating the pale hocks, and savoring their firm feel. One hand left my bum, followed quickly by a broad, round pressure against my pussy’s wet folds. He grunted as he entered me, and I snorted into Jonas’s crotch, pausing with my mouth half-off his dick, as the abrupt penetration forced the air from my lungs. Avery paused for an instant, lingering inside me as if deciding his next move. Jonas packed his erection back into my throat, pulling my head down with both hands.

Avery’s hands firmly gripped my waist as his hips began to swivel behind me. His cock carved easily through my wet pussy. With each thrust, his round head struck deep in my womb. My quim reacted instantly to the stout breach, constricting around his broad pipe and holding on for its pleasureful life. Even my skin seemed to tingle and prickle where his hands enveloped my waist.

“Mmmmm f’uh yuh!” I eagerly cried. My words were garbled by Jonas’s pipe. “Mmmmgyerk, mmmmgyerk, mmmmgyerk, mmmmgyerk.” My throat sang while I thirstily sucked him. My guests found my fervor amusing.

“Holy shit, she’s really into this!” Avery mused. “You must really love that cat, huh?”

Jonas swung his legs up to the mattress, plucking his tool from my mouth as he spun onto his knees. As he rose into a kneel, his prick batted against my face leaving foamy smears of spit on my nose and cheeks. While Avery continued fucking me from behind, my open mouth hunted Jonas’s glans for a moment before corralling his rod back between my lips. Staring up at him obediently as I pursed my lips, I purred around his shaft. The effect on Jonas was immediate.

“Fhuuuuuuhhhk man! Oh, fuck that’s good!” He celebrated, driving his hips to meet my willing mouth.

My small body pitched and rocked, absorbing the forceful impacts at both ends. Avery struck powerfully into my pussy, rolling me forward on my hands and knees. At my other end, Jonas’s hips plunged forward, stabbing his dick down my throat and pushing my body back onto my haunches. Below my lurching, reeling body, my supple breasts swayed like ripe melons on a branch, begging to be plucked.

The blissful buzzing in my pussy spread out through my body. A tickling static set in behind my eyes, and my head filled with pleasureful ringing. My pussy braced on Avery’s cock as I came. Clenching fingers dug my nails into the mattress below me.

“Fuhhkme a’hm kuhhhym!” I howled, heralding my climax around Jonas’s obstructing shaft. As Avery thumped even more rapidly into my cumming snatch, my orgasm refused to peak. Packed at both ends by strangers’ pulsing black cocks, I pictured John – obliviously asleep in this bed later in the week – and my carnal frenzy skyrocketed. My escalating pleasure was matched by my soaring, stifled shriek. Finally, after an unrelenting upward climb, my climax wilted. As my orgasm faded, so did my energy.

Neither man eased his onslaught. Jonas grabbed my ponytail, which he held with one hand like a red handle to direct my mouth up and down his shaft. His other hand dipped below my rocking body, fondling my dangling tits. Behind me, Avery’s fingers dug into the meat of my waist and ass, slamming his manhood into my pussy and pulling me to meet every furious thrust.

I docilely closed my eyes, momentarily drained from my climax, while I allowed the two black strangers to piston into my willing pussy and mouth. A stiff gust of wind blew through the open window as the rain intensified. Outside of the bedroom I heard the creak of a door drifting open, probably that hazard of a hall closet. I made a note to remember – distracted as I was, with my body pinballing between dicks – to be careful not to walk into that door while getting cleaned up later.

“Hey, check this out!” Jonas’s voice made me open my eyes. I couldn’t see Avery’s face, but I assumed he was looking at Jonas, too. “She lost a cat, and we found some pussy!”

Avery’s cock almost squirted out of my gash as he convulsed with fits of laughter. Jonas, of course, also found his own joke hysterical. Above me, I heard a slap of hands as they exuberantly high-fived over my reeling, bare back. I closed my eyes again to hide my sarcastic eye-roll at the degrading joke. ‘Everyone’s a comedian when they’re inside me,’ I thought sniffily. Although, considering that I was spit-roasted by the jesters, maybe I wasn’t in a position to judge.

Jonas shifted restlessly on his knees. He kept his hand at the back of my head, preserving my mouth’s engagement on his cock, but the thrusting of his hips had stilled. Maintaining his galloping pace, Avery seemed hesitant to relinquish his spot in my pussy. However, his tempo gradually slackened, and his cock slithered stickily out of my slit.

Noting his friend’s exit, Jonas fished his erection from my mouth. Patting the top of my head appreciatively, Jonas swung his legs off the side of the bed and returned to his former lounged position. His rigid cock swayed in his lap; a flagpole bearing a banner of invitation. He beckoned me with a wave of his hand.

I crawled to Jonas’s side, then slung a pale leg over his torso. Straddling him on my knees and facing away from the bed, I reached beneath me and grasped his pulsing member. The skin of his prick was still wet with my drool. Bracing his tool upright, I lowered my quim onto him. The head passed easily through my sodden folds; my pussy lips hungrily gripped his broad shaft.

“Fuh-huuhk, dude! She says she’s a dog-lady, but she’s got a Grade A pussy!” Jonas raved as his manhood bottomed out inside of me. Avery nodded beside us.

Another contented grin crossed my plump lips at the objectifying compliment. Leaning forward, I rested my hands on Jonas’s inclined knees as I began to swivel my hips. My snatch tightly hugged his pole, the wet lips gliding slickly along his shaft. The pleasureful, sharp heat resumed in my loins promptly as his hard cock struck deep in my pussy.

Avery stood from the bed. He watched intently; his eyes locked on my bouncing tits as I bucked atop his friend’s cock. After a moment of watching me fuck Jonas, he stood between his friend’s parted knees and pushed his own dick to my mouth. I opened my lips promptly, eager to serve a second, immediate black cock in my boyfriend’s bed. His shaft was sticky as it passed across my tongue, and my mouth filled with the exciting tang of my own cum.

“Mmmmf fuhk wyah!” I groaned, cheering through the dick in my mouth.

Spurred on by the second prick, I pivoted my hips and polished Jonas’s shaft with my pussy lips. His fingers dug into the bouncing cheeks of my ass. Avery tucked a guiding hand behind my head, directing my eager mouth down his cock. His other hand dropped to my bounding rack, squeezing my springy, firm breasts, and pinching my tender nipples.

“Wahm goh kumh!” I wailed, my cock-mangled words still getting the climaxing message across. Jonas’s hands grabbed my hips, dragging me downward for maximum penetration. I squirmed, twisting my pelvis in a figure-eight atop Jonas’s dick. His head gouged perfectly into my deepest reaches, and a blaze of pleasure tore through my busty little body.

My exhausted frame tried to collapse, but I was propped upright by Avery’s rigid tool in my jaws, held in place by his hands on the back of my neck and head. Globs of spit dripped from my chin. My heart thundered furiously inside my ribcage. Each explosive thud rippled through the doughy flesh of my tits. Avery slowed, but did not stop, his relentless plowing of my lips to allow me to catch my breath.

Beneath me, Jonas had compensated for my exhaustion-stilled hips by thrusting his own pelvis upwards, jamming his cock into my cunt. The continuing pressure inside my womb triggered a series of aftershocks that shuddered through my weary frame. Now, though, his hands were squeezing and molding my buttocks, surveying the terrain, and gauging my reaction. One hand spread my cheeks, the other dipped an exploratory fingertip into my anus.

“Nerk!” I yelped in alarm, my eyes flying open into wide discs. I tried to spin my head around to scowl at Jonas, but Avery’s hands held me facing forward with his dick securely in my mouth.

“Sorry,” Jonas said behind me, with a hint of true apology in his voice. “Should have warned you first.”

I heard him spit, then his wet, gummy hand slathered saliva around and into my rosebud.

“Okay… you ready?” He asked but had already pulled his dick out of my snatch and was pushing his bulbous glans against my sphincter before I could abbreviatedly nod my head ‘yes’.

Jonas pressed his round head against my anus. I focused on relaxing my jaw – for Avery’s sake – and tried to allow that ease to flow through the rest of my body. Jonas dabbed more spit into my crack, then wedged his tip against my pucker again. My stubborn knot resisted, strained, then finally relented, and with a grunt he was through.

“Grrrrmmmk!” I mewled as his broad cock burrowed into my backdoor. The discomfort was sharp and immediate. Avery petted my hair comfortingly. Confident that I was not in danger of clenching my jaw anymore, I resumed drawing my lips along the length of his shaft.

“Don’t think this is her first hoedown…” Jonas remarked, matter-of-factly noting the dexterity with which my ass accepted his dick. I rolled my eyes at his ongoing narration. But I had to concede the truth of his statement, and I quickly re-accustomed my pucker to the unnatural intrusion.

I reached back with one hand and touched my fingers instructively to Jonas’s thigh, stilling his pelvis. My hips swiveled, moving for both of us. One of his hands persisted at the cleft of my buttocks, bracing my cheeks apart. His other hand lay on my pivoting hip, less for my guidance than for his own enjoyment touching my pale, smooth skin. As I wheeled, a dark, achy pleasure built from the deviant penetration. Pulling my mouth free, I cheered the trespassing cock.

“Yes! Fuck my ass!” I purred as the thrill buzzed through my pucker. My mouth promptly returned to Avery’s trembling rod.

Whirring in desirous elation at the black pipe in my ass, I returned my focus to that second cock, in my mouth. My lips and fingers traveled Avery’s shaft in tandem. My ringed fingers led the path downward to the base, and then chased my lips back to the tip on their retreat.