Two Bags for the Bride

"Not until you turn the light on."

"No."

"Then no."

"What do you mean 'No,' Gordi?"

"Then no, I'm not going to do anything to you. I like to see what I'm eating. I can't play with my food properly unless I can see it."

"But you'll get turned off if you have to look at me. I know I'm too ugly to be desirable."

I kissed her soundly and tweaked a nipple.

"I know what the ugly part of you looks like. I want to see your beautiful parts."

"I don't have any."

"Bullshit! Turn the lights on, or go back to doing all the work yourself."

We argued for quite some time before she finally gave in. I think the fact that I kept her right on the edge of orgasm, and wouldn't push her over the edge, may have had something to do with her eventual concession. Not an easy trick to pull off with Maggie's hair-trigger responsiveness. She won't admit it, but I think I'm the only one who has ever been able to do that to her.

That first time, we compromised on candlelight. I still haven't seen her naked in full daylight.

She claims we didn't even set a personal best mark for her, let alone a world record. I don't believe it. I've never seen one woman have so many orgasms in such a short period of time. Hell, I've been to orgies where all of the women put together didn't have that many.

I got a rude letter from the people at Guinness telling me they don't track pornographic feats.

I discovered that she has the same sort of muscle control over her vaginal muscles as she does her other holes. She loves to have her mismatched tits fucked too. She can cum from just about any form of sexual activity and there are damn few kinks she hasn't experimented with. The one thing she hasn't tried is exhibitionism. I'm working on that.

I didn't dump Abigail right away. Sex with Maggie was the greatest I ever had, but you can't build a relationship on just sex. I didn't want to hurt Abigail either.

In the end, it was Harry who solved the problem of Abigail. He's extraordinarily well hung, and has an anal fixation.

He was hanging around my place a couple of days after the fancy dress ball and my first time with Maggie. We were pretty close to comatose with alcohol poisoning when Abigail breezed into my apartment.

"I'm back, Gordi, my love. When's your friend leaving? I can't wait to get you alone."

She bent over at the waist to give me a long lingering kiss. Her short knit dress rode up to show Harry how the thong panties bisected the Gateway to Hershey Heaven.

"God, Abigail, you've got one sweet ass. Too bad you're such a prude. I'd just love to help Gordi fuck your brains out. I bet your asshole is so warm and tight that I could fuck it for an hour or more."

"You're insane, Harry. How can you even consider such a disgusting thing?"

Abigail stood and turned her back on me as she glared down at Harry. She leaned over to shake an angry finger in his face as she berated him. She presented me with the same view that had prompted Harry's lewd suggestion.

Drunken synapses in my brain shorted out. They guided my forefinger to the bowl of butter by the popcorn bowl. Harry doesn't like buttered popcorn with his beer and I do. The bowl was still about half full of warm butter.

"Harry's righ. You've gotta ass just made for fucking. It's jusht absolushly booful. See? I'ssright there just begging..."

An outraged scream from Abigail interrupted my drunken soliloquy.

Drunkenness affects my depth perception. When I pointed to the object of our lust, I stabbed a buttered forefinger inside her virgin rectum to the second knuckle. I crooked the finger towards her G-spot and pulled her back towards me. Her scream changed to a moan of arousal.

"C'mere, luscious. I screwed up and got butter all over that purty lil butt. Gotta clean it up or you'll get mad at me."

I removed the buttered finger, and replaced it with a warm wet tongue. Abigail shuddered and moaned again when I made the changeover. She pushed back against my invading tongue.

"Stop that, Gordi. That's dirty. How can you stand to put your tongue there? You don't know where it's been," she squawked.

"S'not dirty. S'jusht gotts lil butter on it. An' I do too know here it's been. S'been right here. Hiding 'tween yur loverly cheeks."

I drunkenly pointed out where it had been hiding and again misjudged the distance. I pulled my finger back out with an audible pop.

"Oopsy. Got more butter on it. Yer pantish r'inna way. Got butter on'em anywaysh."

I peeled her thong panties down to her knees and went back to licking up the butter. More alcohol soaked synapses shorted out. I reached over, scooped up a big glob of butter, and spread it liberally in her crack and inside her tight little brown rosebud. I worked it inside with two fingers. Abigail moaned or screamed loudly. My drunken synapses interpreted it as sounds of pleasure.

"Damn, thash good. C'mere Harry ya gotta taste this. S'lots better'n popcorn."

Harry started towards me. I spun Abigail around and pulled her down, into a kneeling position, for a passionate/drunken kiss. She nearly swallowed my tongue when Harry shoved his tongue as far as he could get it into her butt. He spread her cheeks and stabbed her again. She wouldn't give my tongue back. I swear I could feel her vocal cords move against the tip of my tongue as she moaned loudly in response to Harry's attentions.

Abigail fumbled at the waistband of the sweat pants I was wearing. She let me have my tongue back and started chewing on the muscle where my shoulder meets my neck.

"Oh, God. I've got to have your cock in me."

"I wash hoping you'd say that. Yer butt is so sweet I wash hopin yood ask."

Harry must have had a few synapses shorted out as well. He hooked the waistband of his sweatpants under his balls, and smeared a handful of butter on his throbbing erection.

Even drunk, Harry was a skillful sodomite. He was already inside her sphincter before Abigail realized who was headed where. She drew in a breath to scream, or to curse Harry or something. I forestalled whatever it was she had planned by gagging her with my tongue. I also smeared butter on her clit.

The stimulation from an unexpected direction caused her to jerk back against Harry. He rode the rebound without losing the extra inch she had taken in her ass. I rubbed the butter into her clit and over her labia. She jerked back again to take another inch of Harry up her ass.

In very short order, she was pushing back against Harry and asking for more. I was shocked at her language. She had never been very vocal before, and I didn't even know she knew some of the words she was calling Harry. She called him a lot of nasty and insulting things, but the thing she called him most was 'Lover.'

As soon as he bottomed out in her backside, Harry roughly grabbed her tits and rolled onto his back. He took her with him and quickly had her cunt exposed, and her legs spread wide. He kept up a slow fucking with short strokes the whole time.

"She's your fucking girlfriend. Don't think I'm going to do all the work for you."

"I'm not fucking that. 'll get butter on m'dick. Better lick it clean huh?"

"You touch me with anything but your cock and I'll scream," Abigail growled. "This fucking pervert with his cock up my ass has butter on his cock. You think you're better than him? Stick that cock in my butter drenched cunt and do it right NOW!"

"Yes'm. Anything you say, Miz Walker."

Being too drunk to argue with her logic, I acceded to her demands and filled her aching, butter drenched cunt. That's what triggered the miracle.

According to her later estimate, it had been less than ten minutes since she let herself into my apartment when she exploded in orgasm.

Less than twenty minutes, when the rush of Harry's hot sperm in her bowels triggered another massive orgasm. She wasn't sure whether my sperm filling her cunt extended the second, or caused a third.

Abigail woke up about an hour later, lying atop one drunk with her anal sphincter still gripping his partially erect cock. She had another drunk passed out on top of her with his flaccid member held gently by her labia majora. She rolled me off of her and leaned back on Harry's chest. I groggily watched her pull Harry's hands up to her chest. She tucked his fingers under her bra to hold them tight against her tits. She squirmed down a bit and I could see her work her sphincter muscles to draw a bit more of Harry into her ass. Then she went back to sleep. So did I.

I have no idea how long I was out. When I awoke, Abigail was gently rocking her hips in her sleep, trying to work Harry's sleeping erection farther into her ass. Harry was helping by fucking her gently in his sleep. I dropped a blanket over them, stuffed a pillow under Abigail's head to keep her from getting a stiff neck, and went to bed. I was just dozing off when I heard her berating her 'perverted sodomite lover' to fuck her ass deeper because she was coming again.

I next awoke to the sound of my upstairs neighbor's cat stomping around on my ceiling, and the sound of an ambitious plumber unstopping the toilet in my living room with a plunger.

I opened bloodshot eyes and stumbled off to find out how I had gotten a stopped up toilet in my living room. My alcohol-fried synapses got themselves sorted out at about the same time my bleary eyes reported that there was only Abigail's sopping pussy being thoroughly stirred by Harry's cock. I remembered the miracle from last night.

I staggered over to where Harry had her folded in half and knelt down to kiss her.

"Morning love. How was your trip?"

"Rotten. Everything took twice as long as it needed to. Then I got home and found you drunk, and somebody stuck a telephone pole up my ass."

"So other than that, how're things going?"

"Oh, in an out. You know how it goes."

"Want me to stick my cock in your ass and see if you cum again?"

"Would you please? What's his name here feels so good in my cunt I don't want him to stop."

"How rude of me. Abigail, this is Harry. Harry, Abigail Walker."

"Nice to meet you Ms. Abigail. You sure do have a nice ass. Your pussy's not too bad either."

"Well roll over, Harry. Give me a bit of room so I can fuck that pretty asshole."

He did. I did. Abigail came almost immediately. She came twice more before Harry and I did. Not quite up to Maggie's standards, but six orgasms in twelve hours was a new personal best for Abigail.

While we were eating breakfast (and smearing more butter and a bit of syrup on Abigail,) the doorbell rang. I grabbed a bath towel from the laundry and wrapped around me as I went to answer the door.

It was Maggie looking for Abigail.

"Yeah. She's here. Come on in."

Maggie took in the scene in the kitchen and gasped.

"Abigail what ARE you doing."

"Oh, hi, Maggie. I'm not doing anything except leaning on the counter here. The perverted sodomite rapist back there is doing all the work, aren't you, lover? Do you know Harry? I'm afraid I don't know your last name, darling. Could you please push that monster just a tad more into my ass and finger my clit real hard?"

Harry gave a polite nod to Maggie and followed Abigail's instructions.

"OH, GOD, YES! Fuck me real hard and fast in my ass now, you pervert. Sodomize my poor little butt. Oh, God Yes! I'm cumming AGAINNNNNNN!"

The only thing that kept Abigail from sliding to the floor was Harry's stiff cock pounding in and out of her bowels. He slammed home one last time, and lifted her to her toes as he pumped her ass full to overflowing.

Maggie stared wide-eyed at her (formerly) frigid sister. I noticed her hand rubbing her crotch and decided to offer my assistance. I stepped behind her, groped her D-cup with one hand, and started unfastening her slacks with the other. I had my hand inside her pants before she realized what I was doing.

"Where's your bed?"

Maggie didn't wait for an answer; she just went searching. Since I had my hands wedged in the front of her slacks, I perforce followed. I steered her into my bedroom and closed the door. She did her disappearing clothes trick. I had no more clue as to how she managed it in the subdued daylight of my bedroom, than I did in the darkness of hers. Somehow, she just focused my attention on the finger I had buried in her talented pussy, and while I was distracted, all of her clothes vanished along with the towel I had donned to answer the door.

A quick half dozen orgasms for her and one for me. It was only half an hour later before we were back in the kitchen with Abigail and Harry.

"Oh, there you are, Maggie. Harry's last name is Harrison. In addition to being a perverted sodomite, he's a spoilsport. He says his wife doesn't mind if he fucks me, but she wouldn't let him move in with me. I even offered to let her move in too but he says it would cramp their style or something. I think he's just pussy whipped."

"I am not pussy whipped. I'm ass whipped. You do have a lovely tight ass, Abigail, but I'm in love with my wife's ass and she won't let me fuck it if I move in with you."

"Oh, pooh. See what I mean, Maggie? He's just a spoilsport. What are you doing here anyway? I mean besides dragging my boyfriend off to fuck him? Why'd you do that anyway? I let you watch this ass whipped pervert fuck my ass. Why can't I watch my boyfriend stick his big cock in your cunt? It's not fair."

"Abigail, the bleach has gone to your brain again. You sound just like a real blonde. I came looking for you to tell you your boyfriend has been cheating on you. I think you should dump the unfaithful SOB."

"Now, wait a minute Maggie, you can't go calling my mother a dog like that," I sputtered indignantly.

"Oh, shut up, Gordi. Have you been cheating on me? Don't just stand there gaping, answer me! Of course you have. You just got back from ravishing my sister didn't you? Maggie, I can't dump the poor schmuck. If I do, I won't have a handy cock to fill my itchy asshole. I'll just have to keep him until I can seduce Harry's wife and make her see reason. There that's settled."

"No it's not settled," I protested. "You have to dump me. I've been unfaithful. You can't trust me. Besides, if you don't, I'm going to dump you so I can marry your sister."

"Maggie, can I keep him 'til the wedding?" Abigail wheedled. "I promise I won't break him. I should be able to talk Harry's wife around by the time you're ready to tie the knot."

"I'm not getting married. Nobody's asked me to marry him yet, and I refuse to set a date until someone does. You have to dump Gordi. If you don't dump him then I can't live in sin with him."

"Wait a minute. Who said anything about living in sin? I said I wanted to marry you."

"I can't marry you. You're a gold digging gigolo. You'll have to settle for living in sin and being a 'kept man.'

"No. I won't do it. I'm calling my lawyer."

"What do you need a lawyer for? You can't divorce me; we're not married. You can't even dump me until you dump my sister and move in with me."

I decided that things were just too crazy in my apartment, so I would go visit my lawyer in person. I stormed out and slammed the front door before I realized two very important things.

First, I was naked, and standing outside my locked apartment door. No pockets meant no keys either.

Second, I don't HAVE a lawyer.

I turned around and pounded on my door until Maggie opened it. She let me in without a comment. She grabbed me by the ears and kissed me all the way down to my toenails.

"I have a lawyer. He's very good. He's even got a prenuptial agreement drawn up for me already. Just in case. You going to ask me before I ask you, or what?"

"Maggie Walker, will you marry me?"

"I don't know. I'll have to think about it for a while. Can we go back to your room and fuck for a while so I can think about it?"

"No. No fucking until I have an answer."

"Well, if you're going to be that way about it."

Maggie kissed my toenails via my throat again.

"Sure you don't want to fuck for an hour or ten before I answer you?"

"Absolutely sure. I might be enticed to help your thought processes along while you discuss it with your sister. I think if I licked your clit just right, I could convince you to say yes."

"Sounds good. Let's go to the bedroom."

"Why? Abigail's in the kitchen."

"So's Harry. I can't let you lick me while he's watching."

"Oh, he'll only watch for a minute. Then he'll probably start fucking you or your sister, and forget all about watching."

"OK. If that's the case, I guess I can talk to Abigail in the kitchen."

With stops for kisses and gropes, it only took us about ten minutes to travel the ten feet to the kitchen door.

"Oh damn. They're both busy. Yes, I'll marry you if you sign the pre-nup agreement. Now, let's go in your room and fuck. The kitchen's too busy."

*****

Well anyway. That's why I'm going to have to learn to tell time on the backwards clocks, and put up with all these cracked mirrors. I think the custom-made velvet bags for when we're making love are kind of erotic. But I just can't talk her out of using paper bags for the wedding.

I'm no fashion maven, but even I know that brown paper just doesn't go with white lace.

--- Author's Note: Thanks are due to WhisperSecret for her editorial assistance. If you like this story, it is in large part to her input.