Under False Pretenses: An MFM Dub/con Story

In this taboo and forbidden age gap story, Lyra gets much more than she bargains for when she meets Bennett online.

Lyra: The Meeting

The ding of his message comes through suddenly. Picking up my phone, I swipe to access his message.

Bennett: I want to meet you in person.

My shy smile barely lifts the corners of my lips, and I can feel my cheeks redden. Dating has been difficult since moving here for school. It’s not like there’s a shortage of guys. It’s just that the guys here act more like little boys. They aren’t much different from the high school boys I had to deal with back home.

Home isn’t something I want to think about, which is why I decided to go away to school once I graduated high school. Home always felt empty. Growing up, it’s always been me and mom. I never met my dad, although Mom says he was a guy she met at a bar one night. I guess that makes me the product of a one-night stand.

It wasn’t unusual for my mom to frequent bars, pick up guys, and bring them back home. It’s just who she is. However, I never expected her to marry one of them, especially not a man like Oliver Buchanan, my high school Math teacher and now, my new stepfather.

I hated Math, so, by association, I hated Mr. Buchanan. I failed Freshman math because of him. He was such a hard ass to all his students. But, towards me, he was an even bigger pain. I don’t know what about me made him feel that he needed to target me. Whatever it was, he made my life hell. So, when I got him again in my senior year, I enlisted my mom’s help to transfer me out of his class. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I was playing matchmaker. Had I known it would lead to them meeting and getting married, I’d have suffered through his class for one semester. Instead, I’m now stuck with him for as long as my mother decides to keep him around. She invited the enemy into our home. And now, I no longer feel like I belong there.

My mom never kept guys around for long, so there was hope that Mr. Buchanan would soon be out of my life. However, she had never married them before. There’s no way of knowing how this will turn out. I’m in uncharted territory. I pride myself on knowing my mother’s every move. I know she will meet some guy and disappear with him for days, sometimes weeks, at a time. I know she will forget to buy groceries or leave me any money to get something to eat when she disappears, leaving me utterly reliant on the school’s cafeteria food. I know she’ll get angry with everything I do or say to her each time a relationship ends. And I know she’ll find another man in under a week. I know my mother. But this whole marriage thing has thrown me for a loop.

I wonder how he deals with her. It doesn’t matter. He chose that life for himself. It wasn’t thrust upon him like it was for me. He can deal with her. He’s a big boy.

I stare at the message on my phone. I met Bennett a couple of weeks ago on this dating app called Blind Date. The goal was to meet someone sight unseen and connect with them before meeting in person. If you hit it off, you can arrange a meeting. He has been an escape from my reality.

The thing is, I want to meet him too. I’m just scared. What if he sees me, and he doesn’t like what he sees? Am I prepared to let go of the person who’s been holding me together? It’s only been a couple of weeks, but I feel like I’ve known Bennett for a decade. He’s so easy to talk to. I haven’t spoken about my life outside of school—I prefer to keep the conversation light—however, the things I have spoken to him about have been received with empathy and kindness. I’m not ready to end this if he decides I’m not the person for him.

But what if our meeting brings us closer? I do want to be closer to him. My mind whirs as I try to figure out how to respond.

I quickly type out a response before I can stop myself.

Me: What if you don’t like what you see when we meet?

His response is immediate.

Bennett: Not possible.

Me: You don’t know that.

Bennett: What you look like doesn’t matter to me, baby girl.

Baby girl. Oh, God. I feel like there’s a zoo in my stomach.

Me: Ok

Me: We can meet.

Bennett: You just made my day!

I smile at his excitement.

Me: But can we go somewhere quiet? So we can talk?

Bennett: Anything you want. I’ll text you the details once I’m done with work.

Me: cool

A tinge of nervous anticipation consumes me as I ride to the address Bennett sent. I have no idea who I’ll see when I get there. I would’ve never done anything like this back home—I’m too cautious for that—but Bennett makes me feel so comfortable.

The driver pulls into the hotel parking lot. Bennett explained that he was staying at this hotel on business. There’s a restaurant in the lobby where we can grab dinner. I hop out of the Uber and make my way inside towards the elevators. Room 4071 is his room. He instructed me to meet him in his room when I arrived.

The vigilante side of me tells me I shouldn’t go to the hotel room of a man I’ve never actually met in person. However, the more impetuous side, the side that’s winning, really wants to meet Bennett.

I reach the fourth floor and walk towards room 4071. As I stand at the door, waiting for him to open, my nerves swirl in my stomach. Oh, God. What am I doing? Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

The door opens slowly, and the swirl turns into an army of butterflies dancing, turning my insides into chaos. Oh, God. I take a deep breath and let it out, wiping my now sweaty palms on my jeans. I can’t breathe. The hallway feels like it’s closing in on me. Oh, God. 

The door swings open, and nothing could have prepared me for what I see.

We share a swift, intense moment. I blink, struggling to process what is happening. I can’t speak. He grabs my hand and pulls me inside his hotel room before shutting the door behind us.

Now that I'm inside, I feel my voice returning. With mustered determination, I speak first. “What are you doing here? Are you Bennett?”

His eyes dart around the room, avoiding eye contact. “Well,” he begins. “It’s a bit complicated.”

“It’s not that complicated,” I fume. “Are you Bennett?”

He swallows. “Yes.”

“Are you fucking serious?! Did you know who I was?”

“Not at first,” he admits. But I eventually figured it out.”

“And you still continued to talk to me?” I spat. “What are you doing on a dating app? You’re married to my mother?!”

“We’re…we’re separated.”

An incredulous chuckle bubbles up from my throat when I realize that I’ve been talking to Mr. Buchanan this whole time.

“Since when?”

“Since you left for school.”

“Does she know what you’re doing? Does she know you’re on a dating app?”

“We don’t speak. Your mother…she was never meant to commit to one man.”

“No kidding,” I mutter under my breath.

“Look, I didn’t mean to lie to you…”

“But you did lie,” I say, cutting him off. "You told me your name was Bennett. You knew who I was and said nothing.”

“I go by Bennett when I’m on the apps. It’s my middle name. It’s just a way to maintain some anonymity online. You just never know who you’ll meet.”

I scoff.

“Lyra, I’m sorry about all this. But I knew how lonely you were at school and wanted to help.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s not. I care about you.”

My ironic smile doesn’t hide my disappointment. “Really? You care about me? So, you’re an asshole to everyone you care about?”

“I was hard on you because I did care.”

“FUCK YOU!” Rage flows through me like lava. How dare he do this to me? This whole time, I thought I was building something with someone. I thought that maybe I had found my person. And the entire time, it was this asshole. He deprived me of the opportunity to find someone real.

He smirks at me. Actually smirks.

“Do I amuse you?”

He says nothing. He puts his hands in the pocket of his khakis and stares at me. His button-down shirt stretches across his chest, making me incredibly aware of the muscles beneath. My heart quickens as I become aware of this man’s broad shoulders and tall stature. Why is he just staring?

“Would you have ended our conversations had you known it was me you were talking to the whole time?” He finally asks.

“Of course, I would.”

He gives me a disbelieving stare. “Would you?”

“Yes,” I say, looking him straight in the eye when I say it.

He raises one eyebrow.

“Why would I continue to talk to you?” I protest.

“I have no idea.” He grins at me.

Oh, God. That swirly feeling is back. I need to get out of here.

He must notice my eyes darting to the door because he steps closer. “Don’t leave.”

“Why would I stay?”

“We should sort this out, you and me.”

“We don’t have to.”

“We should. Are we going to go the rest of our lives avoiding one another?”

“No, Mr. Buchanan. We won’t. Because, as you said, you and my mother are separated. So, as I see it, you are making your way out of her life and mine.”

“Just because I’m no longer part of her life doesn’t mean I can’t be a part of yours.”

I stare at him. “Wh…What do you mean by that?” I stutter.

He steps closer to me. “I know you hate me,” he begins. He uses air quotes when he says the word ‘hate.’

“I do hate you,” I confirm.

“But, perhaps,” he continues, ignoring my words, “we can find a way to release some of that hate you feel for me.

He takes another step towards me, and I falter back, my back hitting the wall.

“It’s the sensible thing to do, don’t you think?” His wicked smile promises a world of trouble.

My lips feel so dry right now. What is he implying?

Suddenly, he’s so close. He leans over and whispers, his warm breath caressing my earlobes. “Show me how much you hate me.”

Breathe, girl. Breathe.

“You can’t…” My words are lost as my eyes focus on his lips.

“You say you hate me. But I see the way you watch me when you think I’m not looking. Why is that, baby girl? Why do you watch me?” His hand reaches up and caresses my cheek.

“I…I…” I don’t know what to say because he’s right. I do watch him. Mr. Buchanan stands about six foot four with a chiseled jaw that looks like God molded it by hand. I always wondered how a man so fine can be such a dick. I just never realized I was being so obvious.  

His thumb brushes over my bottom lip.

“I…,” I try again. “This isn’t right.” My voice cracks.

“What about it isn’t right?” His voice is husky and full of desire.

“You…”

“I’m an adult. And so are you. We can do whatever we’d like.”

“My mother…”

“Has already moved on.” He finishes. “She moved on before our separation, actually.”

“Why did you marry her?” I ask, curiosity taking over.

He let out a sigh. “I can’t answer that. But I don’t regret it. It allowed me to get closer to you.”

“What?” Has he noticed me this whole time? Was this his intention?

When I first met Mr. Buchanan four years ago, many of the other students thought he was a student. He had a young face. We later discovered he was approaching thirty and nowhere near our age. That didn’t stop the girls from lusting after him, though. During my senior year, I noticed his eyes would linger on me for far too long. I often caught him staring. I always assumed he was trying to think of ways to torture me. I guess I was wrong.

“Moving in with you and your mother was probably not the best idea. The temptation I’ve tried to avoid was suddenly within reach. Do you know how hard that was for me, baby girl?” His fingers stroke my arm. It’s really hot in here.

“I’m tired of holding back. I think it’s time to give Daddy what he wants.”

“Wh…wh…what do you…” Breath. “Want?” I force the words out.

He gives me a wicked grin. “For you to show me how much you hate me.”

He leans in and grazes his lips on top of mine. For a moment, I think Jell-O has replaced my limbs. His tongue darts out and barely licks my bottom lip. He pulls away, and a chill rushes through my body. I miss his warmth. What am I saying? This isn’t right. I can’t do this.

I try to step away, but the wall at my back reminds me that there’s nowhere to go.

Breaking our connection, he takes my hand and leads me to the king-sized bed. I let him lead me, my resolve dissolving. Once we reach the bed, he kneels before me.

“I’m yours. Do as you please,” he announces, his eyes looking up into mine.

I stare down at him, and I become painfully aware that my pussy wants this. We are adults. And he’s not with my mom anymore. She’s moved on. She doesn’t care for him. The thoughts swirl in my head, giving me a reason to do this. But what if he’s lying? What if they aren’t separated? I would have no way of knowing since I don’t speak to my mother. What if… His hands grip the buckle of my jeans, and my thoughts dissipate. Unfastening my pants, he slides it down my legs.

“Did I give you permission to do that?” My voice carries a demand in it. What if I like it?

He gives me a devilish grin. “My apologies.”

You know what? Fuck it.

I love how he looks kneeled at my feet, at my mercy. It’s where he belongs after everything he’s put me through. I feel powerful. His eyes graze my body before landing on my lace panties. He slowly licks his lips, and instantly, warmth spreads between my legs.

I hook my thumbs on my panties and pull them down slowly. I can see him swallow, his eyes burning with need.

“Lick it,” I demand.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says with a smirk.

His tongue laps out and licks my clit. Electricity shoots up from my core to my spine. His tongue is sharp, yet gentle, as he licks up and down my slit. I spread my legs wider for him. I feel his fingers spread my pussy wider, and I moan. The sensation of his fingers inside my soft folds is intoxicating. I look down, our eyes locking. I feel so much excitement at this moment. I feel more powerful than I should have.

I can feel his smile against my wet pussy. He’s enjoying this too much. I’m supposed to show him how much I hate him. I pull away from him. Confusion registers on his face.

“Get on your back,” I command.

He smiles before standing up, climbing on the bed, and lying on his back.

"You’re about to find out what it feels like to be smothered by my pussy.”

Mr. Buchanan: Fucked!

I knew she had it in her. She’s such a dirty girl. She straddles my face and lowers her pussy onto my eager tongue. Lyra’s pussy tastes fucking fantastic—just like I imagined it would taste. I lick and suck as she does her best to suffocate me with her wet pussy. My cock hardens, pushing against my zipper. I want to let him come out to play so fucking badly. But she’s not ready yet.

Her thighs squeeze around my head as I pull her clit into my mouth and suck. Her moans are becoming louder. I slide my tongue to her entrance, lapping at her juices before penetrating her. She grunts and collapses forward, her head landing on my crotch. Please, set him free. But she doesn’t. Her head rests on my cock for a few seconds before she straightens herself on my face again. I fuck her pussy with my tongue. Lyra bounces up and down on my tongue, clearly enjoying it more than she’d ever admit. She alternates between bouncing up and down on my face and making rhythmic circles around my tongue. She rewards my tongue with her fresh juices as they pour out of her like lava and slide down my cheeks.

I can feel her pussy muscles contract against my tongue as she begins to experience an intense orgasm. I continue to work Lyra’s sweet pussy until her orgasm completely overtakes her. She jerks and spasms around my face. Lyra squirts a series of sprays of clear pussy juice onto my mouth, nose and cheeks. I reach up and insert a finger in her puckered ass, increasing the intensity of her orgasm. Her body jerks for a full thirty seconds before subsiding again.

Once she’s fully recovered, she slides off me and grabs her panties, which are resting on the bed beside us. She stands up and starts to get dressed.

“What are you doing?” My cock is harder than it’s ever been. I need to fuck that tight hole now.

“I’m getting dressed.”

“We’re not done here.”

“We are,” she retorts.

I look down at the bulge in my pants and back at her. Her eyes go down to my bulge.

“Looks like you need to take care of that,” she says, referring to my obviously hard cock. She slips her jeans on.

“How about you take care of him?”

“I’m good.”

I cock an eyebrow at her. Is she fucking serious? “I promise you’ll like him.”

She looks down at my crotch again. “I’m good.”

“Lyra.” My voice is stern.

“I don’t think you deserve pleasure, Mr. Buchanan. You told me to show you how much I hated you.

I’m showing you. Perhaps you can take a cold shower or something?”

Before I can speak, she’s out the door of my hotel. And I’m left on the bed with the hardest cock and no pussy to satiate my thirst. That little bitch!

Lyra: All Crimes Must Be Punished

Three nights. It’s been three nights since I rode my math teacher, turned stepfather’s face. And I’ve regretted walking away from that man each day since, but the power got to my head. I enjoyed the look of disappointment on his face when he realized I was leaving. After all, he did lie to me.

I lie in bed and use my fingers to trace my engorged clit. I can still feel his tongue, the warmth of his breath, the way his nails dug into my thighs. I can still hear his voice full of arousal when he calls me ‘baby girl’. I close my eyes and insert my ring and middle finger into my pussy. My movements are slow and methodical as I imagine his dick thrusting in and out of me.

“That’s right, baby girl. Fuck yourself for me.”

My eyes fling open at the sound of his voice. Mr. Buchanan stands there leaning against my closet door, his hands in his pockets. I let out a startled yelp as I frantically pull the sheets to cover my nudity.

“Don’t do that,” he drawls. “I came for the show. I heard how you were calling my name.”

Was I talking out loud? I thought it was in my head.

“How did you get in here?”

Mr. Buchanan chuckles. “That’s not important, baby girl. What’s important is that you spread those legs and let me watch you fuck that wet pussy for me.”

“Did you break into my apartment?”

“You’re asking all the wrong questions.” He starts walking over to me. “The questions you should be asking are ‘How can I serve you? What should my punishment be?’”

“Punishment?” My pussy didn’t seem to get the memo that this was all kinds of fucked up because, despite my horror that this man found his way into my apartment without being detected, she pulsates at the sight of him.

“Yes. Punishment.” He moves closer to the bed, and I clutch the sheets tighter. With one swift movement, the sheets are snatched from my grip, and he flings them to the ground. “You were a very bad girl. And you know what happens to bad girls, don’t you?”

His face is mere inches away from mine. I clenched my thighs together.

“They get severely punished,” he offers.

I swallow. I try to speak, but my mouth is so dry.

He brushes his lips against mine before saying, “Now fuck yourself.”

I don’t move, unsure of what to do or say. The shock of him being here has still not worn off.

“NOW!” He barks, his voice deep and full of authority.

I jump at the sound of it. Part of me is scared to discover what will happen if I don’t comply. Keeping my eyes on his, I lie back on my bed, spread my legs, and reinsert my fingers into my pussy.

He smirks as he watches my eyes. Our eyes remain locked as I feel myself getting wetter and wetter.

A movement from the corner of my eye causes me to break eye contact. In the doorway stands a man. He looks to be around the same size and build as Mr. Buchanan. I jump and let out a horrifying scream. On instinct, I hop off the bed and run to Mr. Buchanan, using his body to shield me.

Mr. Buchanan lets out a hearty laugh. Why is this man laughing? Not one, but two men have found their way into my apartment. I must have really shitty locks. I feel my heart pounding in my chest. Mr. Buchanan steps aside, grabs my arm, and walks me back over to the bed. My feet drag on the carpet.

“What are you doing?” I ask, a clear tremble in my voice.

“This,” he says, pointing towards the apparent linebacker in the doorway, “is a friend of mine.”

I must be dreaming. I shake my head. Wake up. This isn’t real.

“He’s here to help me with your punishment.”

“Huh? I don’t…why…wh…what?” I stumble over my words.

“You’ll understand soon enough. Now, lie back down and finish what you started.” He pushes me down on the bed. My back hits the sheets. He pushes my knees apart, and I slam them closed again. The man in the doorway continues to stare at me.

With more force this time, he throws my knees apart again. “Open your FUCKING legs!” He barks.

I’m having a hard time controlling my breathing. “Mr. Buchanan,” I plead. “I can’t…”

“You can and you will. You will do what we tell you to do. It’ll be much better for you that way.”

“Please.” I look over at the man. “I don’t know him.”

“One thing you’ll find out about me, baby girl, is that I am not someone to fuck with. Now spread those legs and fuck yourself like a good girl.”

I look between Mr. Buchanan and my unwanted visitor before my eyes land on Mr. Buchanan again. This is a side of him I’ve never seen, nor did I ever expect to see. Slowly, I move my hand back down to my pussy. Mr. Buchanan sits at the edge of the bed with a clear view of my pussy. He watches my fingers disappear into my tight hole, and he moans.

Just when I feel myself nearing my orgasm, he pulls my hand away and sucks my cum off my fingers.

“You taste so fucking good, baby girl. Like sweet molasses.” He puts my fingers into his mouth again and sucks harder this time.

My pussy pulses. I want my release so badly.

“You want to cum, baby girl?”

I nod.

“If you do, your punishment will be worse,” he warns.

My mouth falls open. Is he serious? He’s depriving me of an orgasm. That’s my punishment?

“No matter what, you don’t cum. Do you understand?” He uses his stern teaching voice, and a chill runs down my spine.

I nod reluctantly.

He takes my legs and holds them up in the air. Leaning forward, he licks from my ass up to my clit. I shudder at the sensation.

“Mmmm…you taste so fucking good, baby girl.” He looks over at my mystery doorway man. “You should try some.”

I try to force my legs closed, but he’s too strong. I see the man approach the bed. His eyes rake my body, from my face and landing on my pussy. His eyes are like brimstone. Something tells me this man will be so much more than I ever bargained for.

Mr. Buchanan spins my body around so that I am now lying horizontally across the width of the bed. He stands with his leg on either side of my head. My legs are spread in the air, his strong hands holding them in place.

The man kneels between my legs, and my pussy begins to throb. I’ve never felt so exposed. His breath warms my pussy. Oh, God. What the fuck is happening to me? I gaze up at Mr. Buchanan, who smiles down at me.

The tip of the man’s finger slides across my pussy, locating both my clit and entrance. I hold my breath as I feel my body tense.

“It’s ok, baby girl. You’re doing such a good job for us.”

He leans down and plants an upside-down kiss on my lips, never letting go of my legs.

“Show him how tight and wet you are.”

My muscles clamp around the man’s fingers at Mr. Buchanan’s words. A squeaky noise escapes my lips, and my body involuntarily relaxes. Mr. Buchanan straightens, spreads my legs wider, and shifts them towards him. My lower body rises from the bed, giving the man better access.

I can feel my pussy and asshole twitch open and shut as the man circles my clit. I then feel his cold, wet tongue lap my pussy, and I shudder. My cheeks flush with embarrassment, and my whole body feels warmer. He’s a stranger. And he’s licking my pussy while Mr. Buchanan holds my leg up for him.

“It’s my turn,” I hear Mr. Buchanan say. The two men switch positions. Mr. Buchanan’s fingers spread my pussy lips. I can feel myself getting wetter. It’s not like it is when I’m alone, just me and my fingers. This time, my pussy feels heavy—like I’m being stuffed with my own juices.

He begins sucking on my clit like a lollipop. “Shit, baby girl. You like this, don’t you?” He stands and leans over me, his eyes locked on mine. With one hand, he reaches down and inserts a finger into my pussy. I moan. I am so close.

“Listen to how wet you are.” He pumps his finger in and out of my pussy at an intense speed. I hear the wet sounds of my wetness, and I look away from him. I’m too ashamed to look him in the eye. With his other hand, he violently turns my head so that I’m looking at him again. “Don’t you fucking look away.” There’s that scary, dominant voice again. It scares me and turns me on at the same time.

Mr. Buchanan removes his finger from my pussy and brings it up to my lips. He smears my juices all over my lips before leaning in and kissing me. I part my mouth slightly, and he pushes his tongue into my mouth, his tongue finding mine.  

The angle my leg is being held in puts my pussy in direct contact with the rough material of his jeans. He rubs it against me as we kiss. And I lose control. I moan loudly into his mouth as a massive orgasm floods my body. My body shakes and spasms under him. It feels fucking incredible.

Mr. Buchanan breaks our kiss and stares down at me. “Did you just cum?”

He smirks, and I suddenly remember how fucked I am. I wasn’t supposed to cum. Shit! What is he going to do to me now?

Before I can answer, the man drops my legs, and I’m being pulled off the bed. Mr. Buchanan pushes me across the room until I’m pushed up against the wall.

“You were a bad girl. You know what’s about to happen to you, don’t you?” He holds me by the neck against the wall. I can’t move or see him behind me, but I hear his buckle and the rustle of his jeans as he removes them with one hand.

“You…” I mutter, still trying to catch my breath. “You are going to fuck me.” If that’s my punishment, I’m glad I disobeyed. I’ve waited to feel this man’s dick inside me ever since I left him in the hotel. Now, it was finally going to happen.

Mr. Buchanan chuckles before loosening his hand on my neck. He moves in front of me, an evil grin decorating his face. I was wrong. Mr. Buchanan is still fully dressed.

“No, baby girl. He…” He nods his head towards the man. “…is going to take your ass.”

I gasp as I feel fingers gliding from my pussy to the entrance of my asshole.

“Now, bend over and take him like a big girl for Daddy.”

From behind, the man grabs my hips, forcing me to bend forward. I feel him line his dick up to the entrance of my ass. I feel the intrusion.

“OH, FUCK! I can’t…please.”

“I don’t think you have a choice, baby girl.” Mr. Buchanan squats down in front of me. “Relax and give him your ass.”

“I. Can’t. It. Hurts.” I can’t catch my breath. My ass burns.

With one hand firmly on my neck, Mr. Buchanan uses his other hand to reach under me and rub my clit. My body begins to relax as he rubs from my clit to my opening and back to my clit again. I give a desperate moan, and he smiles.

“You take his cock up your ass like such a big girl.” He rubs faster.

I’ve never had a dick in my ass before. And I’ll admit, initially, this did not feel good at all. But now, I think I’m starting to like it—or maybe it’s the distraction from the burning in my asshole.

I close my eyes and focus on Mr. Buchanan’s fingers as he spreads my wetness around. I’m in a world where pain and pleasure have begun to melt into one another. Just when I think I’m about to reach a place of total euphoria, his hands are gone. My eyes fly open, angry that he’s depriving me of his touch.

He stands, pulling me up with him. This standing position is uncomfortable. It puts the man’s dick at a whole other angle in my ass, and I don’t think I like it.

“Ouch,” I say. “It hurts. Can he take it out? Please?” I beg.

“You don’t get to make the rules.”

Mr. Buchanan pulls his shirt over his head and flings it to the floor. I watch his beautiful dark chest rise and fall before me. He is pure perfection. He unfastens his belt and removes his pants. Hooking his arm under my leg, he holds one leg up so I have one leg on the ground and one resting against his muscular arms. Again, this shifts the dick in my ass and introduces a brand-new sensation, which I’m not sure I like. This ass thing is going to take a lot of getting used to.

He fists his cock and starts stroking himself. His dick is mere inches from my pussy.  

“What…What are you doing?”

“I’m about to take what’s mine. I’m about to take what’s owed to me, baby girl.” He growls in my ear. “He can take your ass. But this pussy…” he roughly palms my pussy. “…is mine.”

I think I forgot how to breathe. Why did that make me so hot? I shouldn’t like this. I shouldn’t accept this. But I think I want it. I want him.

The man stills behind me as Mr. Buchanan lines his dick to the entrance of my pussy and pushes in. I grip his arm and scream. This feeling…I’m so full.

Once he’s situated in my pussy, the man behind me starts to move again. At first, their movements are rough and jagged, but soon they find a rhythm. The man fucks my ass while Mr. Buchanan fucks my pussy. They alternate going in and out. Mr. Buchanan touches his forehead to mine while he fucks me. His eyes are closed, and I know he’s savoring the feeling.

I can’t remain quiet. My moans grow louder as they increase the intensity of their strokes. My wetness runs down my inner thighs.

Digging my nails into his arms, I yell out. “Mr. Buchanan.”

“I’m here, baby girl. I’ve got you.”

He’s got me. No one’s ever said that to me before. I rest my hand on his face and kiss him passionately. It feels good to be gotten.

He pulls away and smiles down at me. “You’re mine now. Don’t you ever forget it.”

I nod. I’m his. I belong to Mr. Buchanan.

Both men let out a grunt as they dump their cum into my pussy and ass. I can feel their dicks pulsate inside me as they both cum. My orgasm nears, and I let out a scream. My pussy clenches around their dicks.  

“FUUUUCCCKKK!” Mr. Buchanan lets out a guttural scream of pure ecstasy. “The way your pussy is squeezing my dick feels so fucking good, baby girl.”  His body jerks again as he drops another load inside me.

When our orgasm subsides, both men slowly pull out of me. Once they are no longer holding me up, I can feel how wobbly my legs are. Before I can topple over, Mr. Buchanan catches me. Carrying me in a cradle position, he carries me to my bed and gently lays me down. My body melts into the sheets. Two orgasms in one night. That’s a first for me. Two men in one night is a first for me, as well.

I watch as the man, who hasn’t told me his name or spoken a word since he’s been here, leaves the bedroom, most likely searching for a bathroom. Mr. Buchanan climbs onto the bed beside me. He pulls me into him so that my ass is resting against his crotch. He nuzzles his face into my neck and inhales.

“Don’t ever forget who you belong to, baby girl.”

I hope you enjoyed "Forbidden Crescendo". Please like and leave me a comment. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

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