The touch of her hand sent a jolt of hot pleasure through my cock, all the way to my toes and back. I pulled Lisa closer and sucked those plump cherry lips into my mouth, pulling hard on the lower one before breaking apart. She tasted good, a mixture of candy and champagne. I grabbed a handful of tits and squeezed. As if on cue, Raquel rubbed her breasts against my back. I ran my hands down Lisa's torso and around to grab two handfuls of perky tight ass. The dresses the girls wore were sexy as hell, leaving little to the imagination, but I craved skin. Those dresses needed to go. As much as I enjoyed the titillation of hiding the best parts, I wanted to run my tongue over every inch of those two and taste my caramel and white chocolate desserts. One glance at the cement flooring of my living room and I knew I didn't want to taste them here. With everything I had in mind, the poor girls would end up with bruises the next day if we took this party to the floor. I considered the couch-too small. The modern design of my furniture didn't really lend itself to a three-way.

"Bedroom, girls. Now."

Raquel's hands circle around a second time and she unbuckled my belt and opened the button on my pants. She had already managed to unbutton my shirt while rubbing against me from behind. So far, between the car and now, she was proving to be a very talented girl. I couldn't wait to see what other tricks she had in store.

She ran her flat palms up my stomach to my chest. Good thing I worked out yesterday. First, I was going to need the endurance of an Olympian to keep up with these two and secondly, and most importantly, this scenario with two hot girls fighting for the attention of my cock, wouldn't have even happened years ago.

Back then, my stomach was more like a mushy bag of French fry grease than a six-pack. Ever since I had left my small town to seek fame and fortune in the big city of Chicago, my life-and body-had changed enormously. Raquel continued running her hands over my abs and then shoved one into my opened pants, all the way down, to release my straining cock.

Fuck, yea. The touch of her hand on my dick felt out of this world.

"Ooo, no underwear." Raquel purred.

"Always ready for action." I replied and grabbed her hand by the wrist.

"I saw, in the car. Let me suck it for you, baby."

"Bedroom." I took Lisa's hand and pulled the two of them, giggling down the hall to the master bedroom. Raquel broke away to grab her drink and I scooped up my Scotch as I passed the bar that opened into the kitchen. Halfway down the hall, Raquel darted back to the living room one more time to retrieve her small purse. Hmm... wonder what she has in store for that?

Chapter Two.

Aedyn Lisa flopped onto the bed, pulling me down with her. Before completing my dive, I hovered over her and swept my nose up the front of her dress, starting at her crotch and stopping at her lips.

"Mmm. You smell good."

Lisa smiled and reached for my erection, which was still hanging from my opened pants. Just then, Raquel pounced on the bed, holding her narrow black purse. I flipped and landed on my back, lying between them. Raquel's hand dipped into her rectangular-shaped purse, and I noticed it was the right size for what she was pulling out of it.

"Wanna get high?"

Of course I did, but I waited for her to continue. "You know what goes with coke? This stuff... weed, but no papers needed, it's just vapor." She lifted a slender purple cylinder from her purse. It was a vapor cigarette; the kind people use to smoke when avoiding the harmful effects of the real ones. But instead of containing nicotine, this one was loaded with a vial of THC oil, the substance in marijuana that makes a person high.

"Fuck, yea." Normally, weed made me drowsy, but my senses were already exploding from the mixture of alcohol and cocaine. Adding marijuana would create an incredible trifecta, a euphoric cocktail promising a mind blowing sexual intensity of the greatest magnitude. In a matter of seconds, my cock would be harder than it already was, damn near tempered steel, and I'd be horny as shit, consumed with an insatiable desire to fuck these two all night.

Raquel took a long drag off the e-cig and held it in her lungs as she passed it to Lisa. The vapor, which looked like smoke, swirled in the air then quickly dissipated as she slowly released it from her lungs. After Lisa took a hit, she passed it to me while Raquel positioned herself at my feet and began pulling off my pants. Lisa rose onto her knees and joined Raquel at the foot of the bed, to assist in removing the remainder of my clothing, giggling all the way. The results of the drug were already having a happy effect on the girl's systems. I laid back, propped against the headboard with a couple pillows at my back, took a drag and said, "Strip for me girls."

The sensation from the weed washed over me like a wave. The room seemed to shift as if on the Tilt-a-Whirl at the fair, and my entire body relaxed into the softness of the mattress.

The two girls looked at each other and giggled again. The silhouette of their bodies as they knelt at my feet was magnificent, with curves and rises of flesh in all the right places. The more I looked, the more all those curves seemed to expand and look bigger and rounder. Their skin damn near glowed with a halo of gold light, making me salivate at the thought of licking that soft smoothness. The drug cocktail had already worked, making the girls act even sillier, but I also knew the drugs would make the pleasures of sex feel explosive. I waited with bated breath to see how they'd enjoy each other, the kind of sexual acts they'd want to do to each other and then to me. I was hoping for some freaky girl-on-girl sex right here in my bed. I wasn't disappointed.

Lisa began, reaching for her dress strap and I grabbed my cock. "Stop." I took another drag and blew it out. "Undress each other. Slowly. I'm curious as to just how close you two are. Are you best friends? Do you do everything together?"

The mood in the room changed, turning from urgent to sensuous in only moments. The girls looked at me and then each other. Lisa leaned forward, touching her tongue to Raquel's lips and then whispered, "We're very close."

My cock thickened in response and I stroked it, anticipating what would come next. Just the thought of those two gorgeous women twisting together, tongues on each other, hair falling on one another, made me hard as a rock.

The girls, still on their knees, began to giggle again as they twisted around to face each other. Lisa took a deep breath, running her hands through her long blonde hair. She shook it out and dropped her arms to her side, staring into Raquel's eyes. Raquel lifted her hands and slipped her fingers under the straps of Lisa's dress. The straps fell down, exposing the top crest of Lisa's full breasts. Raquel's eyes fell too, focusing on those tantalizing crests as her hands pulled the dress all the way to Lisa's waist, fully exposing her. My cock jumped at the sight of them and then hardened even more as I watched Raquel's tongue dart out to catch one of Lisa's hardened nipples.

Oh fuck.

These two were so hot together. My mind was in full fantasy as I imagined what I wanted to do with each one. Raquel would suck me off as Lisa rode my face, my tongue deep inside her. Then I would take turns fucking them in every orifice their body would permit until the three of us fell, exhausted, onto the bed in a twisted mass of flesh, the scent of sex wedged my nose and cum dripping out of the both of them.

Yea, baby.

This was some good shit I just smoked. All that and nothing even happened yet. Well, nearly nothing. While I got lost in my sex fantasy, the two girls started acting it out, going at each other, kissing, licking and fingering the other. All their clothes were off by now and they seemed to be engrossed in each other's pleasure. I would've frowned if I hadn't been high, but the weed had control of my mood and made me laugh it off.

"Hello, girls. I'm over here."

"Oh sorry, babe." Raquel pulled away from Lisa and crawled over my right leg on her hands and knees. I pointed to my cock. "You go here, luscious." Then I reached out my hand for Lisa, "And you, sweetheart, come up here and ride my face."

Raquel's hands slid up my leg. She cupped my balls in one hand and gripped the base of my cock in the other. Adrenaline skittered along my nerves, as every sensation of sight, sound, touch and taste became exaggerated by the chemicals in my blood. With hooded eyes, I watched Lisa's tits bounce as she crawled on her hands and knees to my head. Her flesh was so creamy and smooth; I reached out and stroked her thigh. Just as she was about to swing her leg over and straddle my face, I remembered the condoms. I was out of the ones in my bedside drawer, but had a fresh package I'd left on the kitchen counter, forgotten after hitting the drugstore.

"Hold it, girls." I knew that once I got to the point of pussy penetration I wouldn't want to stop. "Be right back. Gotta get the protection."

Raquel paused mid-air, about to wrap her lips around my erection for the second time tonight. I rolled off the bed and trotted into the kitchen with a massive erection pointing the way. There, sitting on the granite countertop were the condoms still in the bag, right where I'd dropped it along with the day's mail. As I pulled the box out of the bag, another rush from the weed washed over me and a visual of Raquel and Lisa licking each other popped into my mind. I'd probably need the entire box tonight.

The Saturday's mail was lying on the counter, fanned out. I noticed one piece of personal mail, standing out from the usual mountain of junk. Who wrote letters anymore? It wasn't uncommon for me to skip checking the mailbox for days. It'd become nothing more than a holding ground for ignored ads. Although I wasn't in the habit of looking at the mail with any discretion, this one made me pause.

A return address, neatly handwritten in blue cursive ink on the corner of a white envelope jumped out at me. Granger, Iowa. That was my Aunt Melissa's address, my mother's sister. The one woman I trusted; my confidant since my mother died when I was eighteen years old. "Remember where you came from, Aedyn. It's who you really are," she would always say. That was when I left that one-horse town for the glitter of the big city.

I tossed the plastic shopping bag aside and turned to take my Magnums back to the bedroom. I had to make haste. There were two hot babes primed and waiting for me in the next room and I didn't have time to read a letter at this crucial moment. My cock had a window of opportunity here, a limit to the amount of time it would stay hard in the presence of Aunt Melissa. Damn. Even her name could evoke flaccidity; she was like a mother to me. Thinking about her now, or any family member for that matter, was a super buzz-kill and I had more important mountains to scale.

I hurried back to the bedroom, ripped open the box of condoms and pounced on the bed. The two girls were splayed out all over it, fondling each other's titties. That worked for me. My cock was back at attention again. They giggled when the mattress shifted under my weight and their bodies rolled into mine. We continued fucking the rest of the night, me pounding Lisa from behind while she ate out Raquel's pussy, then they switched and I pounded Raquel while she sucked and licked Lisa.

Several condoms later, we fell into a twisted mass of moist skin just as I had envisioned, and soon the two girls had fallen asleep, their arms wrapped around each other beside me. I smiled and patted whoever's firm rump was next to mine and rolled over.

The digital numbers of my alarm clock stared at me from the nightstand. I reached out and turned it face down so I couldn't see them. I didn't want to know what time it was. I wanted to stay lost in this peaceful moment of oblivion because I feared a storm was soon to come.

I punched my pillow with my fist and closed my eyes, but the thoughts came rolling in anyway. That letter. It wasn't going to let me sleep. I knew what it meant. Dad's health again. He drank himself into his condition and now everyone expected me to go back home.

I scrubbed my face, frustration running through me. Just because the bastard was related by blood, everyone thought it was my responsibility to take care of him. In reality, we were all just waiting around for the asshole to die. Besides, did they really think I could drop my duties of running a large marketing corporation and move back to Hicksville, Iowa? Even if I gave a shit about him, it wouldn't be that easy. But I didn't. I hated him in fact. Any man who abused his sick and dying wife didn't deserve my mercy.

I lifted up on my elbow and twisted around to look at the two naked girls soundly sleeping next to me. Careful not to wake them, I slipped out of bed, went to the kitchen and reached for that damn white envelope with the blue cursive writing.

Chapter Three.

Lauren "You don't know what you're talking about." Chip said, his voice tinged with anger. "Donaldson is the best candidate for Mayor by far. Your argument is flawed as usual."

Chip's hand balled into a fist as it rested near the stem of his wine glass. In contrast to the calm muted sounds of the oak paneled dining room, his voice sounded exceptionally agitated this evening. Lately, it seemed Chip's temper could be ignited faster than a match to gasoline.

"Dammit. You don't need to speak to me that way. I'm your girlfriend, Chip, not just your employee. I deserve a little more respect, I think." I knew it came out a little harsh, but the only thing "usual" about me was how my smart mouth sometimes got me in trouble with my boyfriend. But lately, his moods were so changeable and his anger seemed out of proportion to the topic. His erratic responses had been wearing on me and I finally snapped. I looked down at the waiter's polished black shoes pressing into the plush burgundy carpet as he walked past our table, not wanting to apologize for my language, but feeling guilty for keeping quiet.

Chip and I had driven into the nearby capitol city for an elegant dinner at one of the top restaurants in downtown. Chip was the kind of guy who liked to take me to public places and show me off. It was important for him to be seen driving a Corvette, dining in high-end restaurants, tipping big, and living large. I knew he did it to build his ego and make other people envious. Not that I was nave, I was also aware that I was pretty enough to one day be the kind of wife he wanted. Then, I could move up in the world, be Mrs. Chip Harrison, wife of one of the leaders in this town. It was a huge step up from being his stinking secretary, the only happiness I would ever find in this tiny Iowa town.

I worked hard to keep my body in great shape and have my nails manicured weekly. I'd spent hours and tons of money coloring my hair, using expensive conditioners, and curling it until it was long and flowing, like a sexy fashion model. I'd even gone so far as to have my delicate lady hairs painfully ripped from my skin on a regular basis just to please him. Years ago, when I saw the potential for our relationship turning serious, I launched into an all-out effort to make Chip proud of me. I was in love with him and it seemed we were on the right track to marriage... until this moment, when I began to wonder if the whole affair would be derailed by Chip's behavior. But instead of getting off the subject of politics and getting off my case, his belligerence continued.

"My family backs the Republican candidate no matter what. End of story. Republicans are always the best, fiscally speaking and otherwise. You'd understand these things if you'd gone to college."

I froze as he tossed my lack of advanced education into my face again. I held my breath, willing myself to remain calm. "And you think because I favor the Democratic candidate-a person over a party-that gives you the right to insult me?" I blew out an exasperated breath. "You're so arrogant." Now we were in a full-blown argument and it seemed to have shifted from talking politics to taking jabs at me and my lack of intelligence. Maybe my lack of acuity was really about me not noticing how Chip allowed his quest for power to invade every aspect of his life, even his love life. We had been in a relationship for four years now. I had been turning a blind eye to his poor behavior, thinking it was brought on by work related stress, but in the last month or two it seemed to have escalated.

"I'm not insulting you. I'm pointing out the flaws in your arguments. You'd be more powerful if you were like me. Why do you think I have the best insurance company in the game in Granger? Life isn't all about fashion or being captain of the cheerleading squad, Lauren. That may have been your claim to fame in high school, but I moved on and I didn't get here by rolling over and letting people take advantage of me. I live like there's no tomorrow... because there isn't one. Take everything you can in life today because it might all be gone tomorrow. That's my motto."

I bit my tongue, not sure I wanted this conversation to continue in the direction it was going. In reality, Chip had gotten where he was due to his father. The insurance company was started by Chip's grandfather and handed down to his father, and now it was landing in Chip's hands. If it weren't for his dad's influence, Chip wouldn't be where he was today. Claiming it to be his business was an overstatement at the moment. However, Chip was taking over most of the company's daily business functions now that his father's retirement was right around the corner.

Luckily, the waiter returned with the check, which seemed to calm Chip's escalating temper. Everything was ticking him off tonight.

I watched, holding my breath as Chip frowned after looking over the bill.

"What is this? I ordered filet mignon, not chicken. This is the wrong check." He threw the paper ticket down onto the table and mumbled, "Such incompetence," then called the waiter back in a loud voice.

The poor waiter came back to our table, apologizing profusely as he saw how irate Chip was getting. He shuffled off quickly and returned with the proper check. Chip's jaw was set as he picked up the pen to scrawl his signature onto the ticket. He exhaled with disgust and said, "Their damn pen doesn't even work." He scribbled madly with it on the edge of the check, but it still didn't work. Finally, he reached into his suit jacket pocket and signed with his $300 Mont Blanc ink pen. Having done so actually calmed him a bit; he relished the opportunity to show off any of his high priced acquisitions. He put the pen back in his pocket and tugged on his cuffs, adjusting the sleeve of his expensive white dress shirt.

"Let's go," he said and stood up, walking off without the courtesy of allowing me to go first.

I snatched my purse and sweater hanging over the back of my chair, barely able to keep up as we headed toward his car in the parking garage. I thought about walking at my normal pace, to see if he would even notice I wasn't right behind, or if he even cared. I didn't; I was afraid of the results. I sighed, speeding up. I pretty much already knew the answer anyway. Finally, annoyed with his behavior, I yelled to him, "Chip, wait for me. I can't walk that fast in heels."

I tried running a few steps to catch up, but my shoes made it impossible. He was almost to his Corvette when he finally slowed. In a couple steps he stood next to his car and spun on his heels to face me. I trotted up to his car and said, "Thanks a lot. What's so fucking important that you can't even wait for me? For Christ's sake, we're not running a marathon."

"God, Lauren," he sneered. "You're so self-absorbed. Why does everything always have to be about you? I was just walking to the car. Use your brain-if you can. Seems an impossible task, considering you can't even choose the right mayor."

"But..." I tried to defend myself, but he held up a hand and continued his tirade.

"What did you do? Let your horoscope decide? Geez Lauren, you should read the newspaper more often. Brush up on your politics so you can impress people instead of embarrass yourself when you talk."

We were back to that argument again. No surprise there. Chip always changed the subject when he was losing an argument. I opened my mouth to reply, but was so angry I couldn't think of the right words to say and all that came out was, "You... you..."

"You, you what, Lauren? Perfect example, learn to talk."

Just then, a car passed by to exit the parking garage. As it passed us, it slowed and the woman lowered her window to say hello to Chip, recognizing him from City Council. The car stopped for a second and the woman and her husband exchanged a few pleasantries with him. They quickly drove off, most likely not wanting to keep us, but I wondered if they realized what they had interrupted.

Chip turned back to me as I stood at the back of his car waiting. I looked down at the gray cement of the parking garage, stained with oil and used gum that was smashed into the pavement under my feet. "They saw that," he spat, reading my mind.

I looked up, trying to act surprised at his reaction. "What are you talking about?'

"They saw us arguing. How does that make me look, Lauren? Thanks to you, Sheila Cunningham will view me in a different light next Council meeting. I have a reputation to withhold in Granger. I would appreciate if you didn't ruin it for me."

Now I'd had it. "What? Me ruin your image? Ha! You're managing to do that just fine all by yourself, it's you who..."

As I leaned in to him, finally unfurling my barrage of words, his complexion began to change until it was beet red. With his face contorted in anger, he slammed his fist into the polished metal of his black Corvette. "Shut up!"

My eyes popped open wide and I jumped, stopping mid-sentence. We both looked down and there, where his fist had been a second ago, was a dent, evidence of his temper. Before I could close my gaping jaw, Chip ripped into me again. "You did this. This is your fault. Look at my car, my car..." He leaned over and ran his fingers over the dent.

"My fault? You're unbelievable."

"If you would shut your mouth instead of arguing with me, stop pissing me off, this wouldn't have happened. It's your fault completely and don't think this isn't coming out of your paycheck, Lauren, because it is." He glared at me. "Just get in the car."

Chip stormed to the driver's door, leaving me standing behind the car, my head swimming with disbelief. He was doing it again; making a mountain out of a molehill and taking it all out on me.

He hadn't always been like this and I wasn't certain if it was a reaction to something going on in his life-maybe at work-that I didn't know about, or something else. Whatever it was, he was acting like a real jerk and it was making me doubt myself. Every time he treated me this way, my stomach would twist and I'd get a sick feeling. And each time it happened, a little more of my self-esteem would be chiseled away.

I spun and strode up to the passenger door and yanked on the handle, but nothing happened. Chip had forgotten to unlock my side and when I pulled with angry force, I jerked like some kind of crazy woman having a seizure, hurting my fingers in the process. Then he released the lock and I pulled again, nearly knocking myself over.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I was too stupid to function properly in public. Chastened, I plopped into the seat, fastened my seat belt and folded my arms across my chest, staring straight ahead.

As Chip backed the car out of the parking space, he squealed the tires as he took off, his knuckles white as he gripped the wheel. I set my jaw hard, fearful that someday, that dent would be me.

Chapter Four.

Lauren The late morning sun laid ribbons of sunshine across a large vase of cut flowers that had been delivered that morning to my work desk at the insurance company. It was a peace offering from Chip, his way of apologizing for his behavior at dinner.

I sat, chin in my hand, in front of my computer. The screen could've been blank for all I cared. I wasn't looking at it, my gaze stretched out through the glass, beyond the bland metal window frame and Venetian blinds, all the way to the parked cars on the street. I was lost in thought, captured by my own anxieties. The flowers were beautiful and I appreciated the gesture. I believed he was sorry, but there was still an underlying tension this morning. Ever since the argument at dinner, I'd been walking on eggshells. The kind-of-apology sitting on my desk made me feel only a little better.

Chip walked to my desk and said, "Lauren, it's eleven. Why don't you take your lunch break now, a little early? You can pick up my dry cleaning and then eat. I have a meeting late this afternoon with Don and Sheila Cunningham and I'm all out of clean shirts. Didn't you pick them up on Saturday?"

Damn, I'd screwed up again. What was wrong with me? "Oh sorry, Chip. I'll get right on it."

"Thanks." He smiled and reached out a hand to trail his fingers across my chin. "Where do you go for lunch? Sometimes I wonder who you're with when you're not back in an hour."

I stared at him. "Oh I, I met Jules for lunch."

He continued stroking my chin. "You know I don't like it when I don't know where you are."

"Well, I was just with Jules..."

"It's okay. I just worry about you. Don't eat too much. Don't want you to lose that hot body of yours. Too many calories and you'll have to work out twice as hard at the gym."

"I..." I couldn't believe he just said that. Caught off guard, I wasn't sure how to reply. I felt a chip of my self-confidence fall away. I startled, realizing how that metaphor connected with my real life. Chip was chipping away at my confidence.

"Oh, and later, if this meeting turns into dinner, I'll call you and you can come meet us."

"Sure, whatever you say." I stood up and smoothed down my skirt.