The Broker: A Breaking-in Story, Part 8

mollyinthemirror.jpgThere we are, the three of us, intently focused on one another. For a moment it seems that none of us breathes. Jay speaks his words, and I move my hand, and then there is release of breath in the room. A collective exhalation. We are ready, together. The music is deeper, slower, more intense: a cover of “SOS,” so beautifully rendered as to be another song altogether. I drizzle lube on my finger, my eyes alternating between Jay, who looks at me with intense desire mixed with curiosity and trepidation, and David, who looks simply with awe. I can’t help but smile at David with a kind of tenderness one usually reserves for a lover. He is sharing an incredible experience, unthinkable in most of straight-guy life and I’m not sure if he is processing that or not. He seems so fully present that I would guess he is not processing at all. Just experiencing.

I hold one gloved hand where Jay can see how slippery it has become. I take his cock with the other, holding it, slowly pulsing my fingers against it as I slide a long, slender finger inside him again. With my thumb I rub the sensitive skin between his balls and his asshole, spreading lube all around the small, tight opening. Inside his body I press upward with a slow pulsing rhythm in time with the pulsing of my hand that grips his cock. He groans and for a second his eyes flutter closed. David’s eyes are glued to my hands.

I feel Jay beginning to relax and I slide a second finger into his ass. I love the sensation of pushing through the tightness to find the soft, warm space inside. I let go of his cock for a moment to slather more lube on my hand. He gasps and moans and grinds against my hand, pushing himself further onto my fingers. I add more lube.

I let go of his cock and, keeping him impaled on my hand, I move to the side of the bench. I run my free hand through his hair. “You are so beautiful,” I murmur. “You are doing so well.” I lean over his chest and wrap my tongue around his nipple, flicking it against my teeth and then sucking it up into my mouth. I lift my face to his and kiss him. Two fingers inside him pulse a steady rhythm, opening him, relaxing him, enticing him.

There is nothing in the world like introducing a man to having his ass fucked. Looking up at David I can see that he is just as transported as his friend. I beckon him with my eyes and he leans over and I kiss him, too: a soft, lingering, enveloping kiss with which I hope to tell him that I want him, that he is fully a part of this, that his witnessing this is part of what makes it possible.

Jay responds to my fingers moving rhythmically inside him by starting to grind against them, and I know he is ready for more. I slip a third finger past the tight sphincter that wants to keep me out despite its owner’s desires. There is that miraculous moment of entry, of barely slipping through, and then the incredible stretchiness of the body. I move back toward end of the table. I slowly pull my fingers out, and Jay whimpers at their retreat. I add more lube and slide them back in and he gasps. I withdraw them again, slowly, and then press them back in, now slowly fucking him with my fingers in and out until he can ride the sensation and I feel him matching it with his hips. He is almost ready.

I reach for my favorite butt plug, stainless steel, roughly the shape of a large strawberry, and I place it on Jay’s belly. He looks at it and his eyes widen. I hold it out and he takes it in his hand, surprised by the weight of it. “I have three fingers moving inside you right now,” I begin, and his eyes widen, perhaps he had lost count. “And this is going to keep you good and open while I get my cock.”

Slowly, I let my fingers slip all the way out of his body. I drizzle lube over the plug and place the narrowest point against his throbbing asshole. It is wet, and relaxed and open, and the plug begins to slide in easily, but it is a bit wider than my slender fingers, and reaches a point of resistance. “Breathe,” I tell Jay, whose eyes are locked on mine. I massage more lube around the place where the plug meets his body and I feel the muscle there give way to the steel as I press against it with my hand. “Push back and breathe,” I tell him, and he does, and the widest part of the plug slips through. “Good boy,” I murmur. “You’re doing so well.” I give a light tug at the handle of the plug to let him feel the weight and the resistance and then I move up toward his head again. I look deeply into his eyes, truly enthralled by this gift of his opening to me, of his letting himself be transported. I lean over and brush my lips across his, and find I cannot stop at that. I kiss him deeply, searchingly, letting him feel my hunger, my own need for what he is offering. When I break our kiss his eyes are sparkling and I know he knows that he has a certain power in this scene, even though he is the one restrained and penetrated.

From my bag I withdraw my harness and my cock. I step into the black webbing of the harness and tighten the straps around my thighs and waist. I love my harness. I love the way it frames my cunt. I love the feeling of the straps against my skin. It is a part of me, but one I rarely get to feel. I slide my cock through the ring in the front of the harness and I show it proudly to Jay and David. It is a green, medium sized silicone cock, and not exactly representational in that it has no balls, and in that it is green, but it is clearly recognizable as a cock. And it has a lovely upward curve. When I wear my cock I can’t help but stroke it. I find I am doing this now, and these two young men are watching me, entranced.

I walk differently with my cock on, and I saunter over to the side of the bench. I take Jay’s cock in one hand and my own in the other. It is then that David takes me by surprise. “Molly,” he says, as he moves toward me, “Molly, I…” He slowly kneels before me. Looking up at me, with a mixture of reverence and bewilderment, he says, “I want to suck your cock.”

My impulse is to laugh and tell him to be my guest, but his seriousness causes me to treat his request more reverently. “David, have you ever sucked a cock before?”

“No, Molly, I haven’t.”

“Then I would be honored to be your first.”  And I look down, watching his tongue as it circles the head, and then his lips as they close around the shaft, and then his mouth as it slides down toward the base. Watching a man suck my cock like this does something to me that is difficult to describe. It at once brings out the gay-boyishness that I feel and it electrifies my clit and my cunt.

Slowly I begin to fuck David’s eager if inexperienced mouth. I run my fingers through his hair with one hand while stroking Jay with my other. David struggles for a moment with the impulse to gag as I fuck deeper into his mouth, but I talk him through it. “Relax your throat,” and “Oh, that’s so good…” and “You should see how hungry you look…” and less articulate grunts of encouragement, the “yeahs,” and “that’s rights” tell him he’s got it now. Suddenly he puts his hands on my hips, taking control of the movement, his fingernails digging sharply into my flesh, and I nearly come. But I don’t want that to happen yet. I pull away, gently, remembering the rest of my mission. I lower myself to sit on my heels and gaze a moment into the eyes of this newborn cocksucker. I gently run my fingers across his mouth, wiping away the spit that has collected there, and I kiss him so softly, so deeply, that for a moment we are both just lost there in depths of lips and tongues and spirits. Breaking the kiss I look into his eyes with wonder at the incredible openness I see there, and whisper, “Come with me. We’re going to fuck your friend.”

~ by Molly Montrevoir on April 23, 2007.

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