Red-Handed Ch. 05

"What -- you expect me to do it?" Any softening in the redhead's attitude to her friend appeared to have taken a sharp reverse. "Don't play all reluctant. You're the girly cum-queen. You'd probably spray all over his balls again." Imogen looked back at her, petrified. "God -- after the stunt you pulled, I'm still supposed to do everything. How the hell did I get stuck with you?"

"You're running out of time, girls."

"Goddamn you, Imogen..."

"Okay, okay, I'll do it!" The blonde planted both palms against the wall and thrust out her ass with Mac's finger still in it. "Let him put his cock in my ass. Come on, get on with it. You've fucked everything else I have, why not this? Oh God..." Her tone was reckless, her face fraught. The anxiety in her eyes only intensified as he withdrew his finger from her ass, along with Lysette's, and reached for the body oil. "Oh Jesus..."

"Well done you, Blondie," he said as he doused himself with the improvised lubricant. "It's okay, I'll take it slow. Make sure I get it all in. Right to the balls, you know?"

"Oh God, I know..." Imogen's glance to Lysette was sorrowful but stoic. "Take one for the team, right?" She braced herself, as he nestled the swollen head of his cock between her globed cheeks and pressed it to her tight little ring. "See? I can do this." But she quailed visibly, a 'What have I done here?' expression all over her face.

Mac held his stiff length in place and prepared the thrust that would answer that question. No backing out now, Blondie. You've made your choice, now deal with it. Three, two, one...

Then Lysette's slender, red-taloned hand came to rest on the shaft of his cock. "Okay, okay, stop. Fuck... I'll take it." She was panting, her eyes wide with anger, fear and desire all at once.

"She's already decided," he told her, cock-head pressing onto Imogen's yielding entrance. "This ass is as good as fucked."

"No," Lysette insisted, wedded to her change of heart. "Take mine. Leave something for her damn boyfriend." Imogen looked to her friend with hope and sudden gratitude. Mac, however, had virtually committed to spearing the blonde bitch's lovely round ass. The first impaling stroke was readied. Her fiery friend looked him directly in the eye. "Come on, Mac, leave her be. Fuck my tight ass. Fuck it hard and make her watch."

Blonde or redhead... which? Decisions, decisions...

"Beg for it, Scarlet," he said.

Lysette responded through clenched teeth. "Please, Mac, fuck my ass."

"Give me more than that. Tell me what you want."

"I... I want you to stick this huge cock as far up my ass as it'll go. Then I want you to fuck me good. Ream out my tight little bumhole till you shoot your load inside it. Will that do?"

Mac's cock was unwavering in its hardness, but Lysette's filthy appeal had swayed his mind. "You're off the hook, Blondie," he said, drawing back from the girl's ready hole and grappling the redhead back into a position of ass-thrusting vulnerability. "But you're going to make yourself useful." Imogen rose from her bent-over posture, eyes still wary despite her relief. Mac jammed the bath oil into her hand. "Lube me up some more."

The care with which she oiled up his already glistening cock would have pleased any man, likewise the attention she paid to dripping the fluid down Lysette's ass-crack. Her face told a different story -- one of a girl prepping her friend for a fiendish ass-reaming that should by rights have been hers.

"Nice," Mac commended. "Now spread her cheeks. Let's see that pretty little asshole." Imogen did his bidding, her fingers pressing into the firm flesh of Lysette's buttocks as she parted them. "Jesus, look at that." Mac aimed his phallic missile squarely at the rose-tinged knot that Imogen had revealed, pulsing with eagerness to be sunk far beyond that tight entrance. "Now you watch, Blondie," he said, catching the girl's disconcerted glance. "Keep those cheeks spread and don't take your eyes off this."

He made sure that Imogen saw it all, starting with the popping of his cock-head through Lysette's springy doorway. The redhead gave a puppy-dog yelp, her body seizing at the first of the penetration. "This is going to stretch you wide, Scarlet," he said, "but I guess you already know that." Then he thrust, sinking himself inch by throbbing inch into her ass, observing the progress of his shaft as it slid inside and relishing the sweet pressured sensation.

"Oh God..." Lysette's response was a strangled moan. Her anus had expanded wide to accommodate him, and the bath oil was easing the tight contractions around his slowly diving column.

"How does that feel?" he demanded, gripping her pert rump for support.

"Oh God, it's fucking huge... It's fucking huge..." was Lysette's mantra.

"And you're fucking tight," he asserted, drawing back his shaft and thrusting deeper, making her yell aloud. "Christ, this was a good idea. Blondie, say what you see. Tell your friend."

Imogen, transfixed by the sight, fought for words. "It's... Oh God, you're swallowing him. Your ass is swallowing his cock, and there's so much of it. Oh Jesus, he's fitting it all in!"

Not yet -- there's still more to go, Scarlet.

Reverse and thrust, reverse and thrust -- driving deeper, Lysette's rectal reflex clutching him all the while, her mouth shrieking profanity. "Aaagh! Oh my God... Fuck!"

How tightly could a girl's ass squeeze a man's cock? Mac was having one hell of a time discovering. "Here we go, right to the balls. Think I can make it, Blondie?"

Imogen offered no opinion as to the chances. She simply stared dumbfounded, as Mac rammed the last of his shaft into Lysette, burying the head of his cock deep inside her formidably constricting rear tunnel. The redhead cut loose with an epic wail as he packed himself into her, his balls cramming against the cheeks of her bum. "Damn, yes -- there it is, all in. How do you like that, Scarlet?"

He didn't wait for her to reply. This was an ass that from the way it had sucked in his length wanted serious fucking. Rejoicing all over again in his fortunes' turn-about, Mac laid hold of Lysette's waist with both hands and proceeded to shaft her anal hole. He took it slowly at first, watching himself saw in and out, while she howled her animal commentary. Never had he felt larger inside a woman, and he let the thought beef up his sense of his own masculinity as he ploughed his strokes into her. Water fired off the accentuated curve of her back and her fingers pressed hard into the tiles, as her body braced itself against his testing motion within her. He was drawing out thick inches on each retraction, only to plunge deep again, making her feel his length.

"God," he said, forcing out the words in a snarl as he thrust, "her ass feels like it's trying to crush my cock. Not much chance of that -- I'm too damn hard for her. This could have been you, Blondie. I could be ramming myself up your asshole right now. What do you think of that?"

Imogen's grasp of the English language failed her once more. She merely stared at the fuck-pole currently shafting in and out of her friend's expanded anal ring, her face a mask of astonishment.

"Grip my balls," he told her, the words starling her out of her stupor. "Grip hold of my balls while I fuck your partner's sexy ass. The blonde reached down and grasped, her slim fingers stretching to accommodate his swollen sac. Her wet tits nestled against his ribcage as she squeezed, her arm shunting back and forth beneath him with the movement of his thrusting. "Not too tight," he instructed, slowing his pelvic action. "I can't hold this load much longer -- you two bitches have got me brim-full. Christ -- and you know where it's all going... Right, Blondie? Tell me where..."

"Oh God..." Imogen managed. "You're going to shoot it all up her ass."

"Deep in her ass," he affirmed. "Deep in her tight fucking ass." Oh shit...

Putting words to the thought threw a switch. Mac's final excitement was upon him. The mechanics of orgasm were kicking into action and this time he was not going to hold them back. "Put your tongue up my ass," he told Imogen.

Her hesitation was split-second, a shadow of 'What the fuck?' flickering across her face.

Mac reached with one hand and grabbed her shower-slicked hair. "Gone deaf? Put your tongue up my fucking ass now, bitch. As far as it'll fucking go."

His harshness erased all doubt. Imogen dropped out of sight and as Mac continued to drive his cock into Lysette's rear depths, he underwent an added delight. Slender hands parted his ass cheeks and a moist tongue squirmed past his anal ring, plunging recklessly into his ass.

"Fuck -- that's the way, Blondie!" Instinctively he reached behind and grabbed a fistful of her wet locks, cramming her face to his cheeks so that she had no further choice than to lick his bumhole. "Bet you're glad it's minty-fresh now," he said, gripping her in place and shafting harder into Lysette. "That's it, girl, tongue-fuck my ass!" Shit, every time he thought this night couldn't get any better...

He had a hold on them both, as his body prepped itself for the big O. Imogen's lithe tongue-muscle was writhing inside him, the sensation so gorgeous it was otherworldly. Sensation was shooting via his anal nerves to a cock that was outrageously hard already, one that was now torpedoing Lysette's ass on every thrust. He clutched the redhead's shoulder, bending her back into a tight curve as he reamed her with unmerciful force.

"How's that ass of yours doing, Scarlet?" he called above the roar of the water and the cries of Lysette herself. Her yowling was constant now, part of the hot sexual soundtrack. "You loving it yet?"

"Fuck..." She forced herself to articulate the word amid her screams. "You horny fucking bastard..." But he wasn't the only horny one -- that much was apparent. The fiery slut was pressing into the tiles with a single hand now, while the fingers of the other went searching between her legs. A filled asshole and a sopping cunt -- hot little bitch!

His hands clamped hard to both his bitches, Imogen's mouth pressed fast to his asshole, as he powered furious strokes into Lysette. "Jesus -- here it comes..." He felt a need to announce the moment like he hadn't done in years. Mac Lewis was going to come like a fucking tsunami and the redheaded team-leader's ass was going to swallow it all.

His balls contracted hard, launching everything that he had stored. The tubes of his hard cock filled up with a rush of sperm, right before the hot liquid exploded out of him, deep inside his burglar-conquest's rear. He clenched repeatedly and hard, his body jolting taut between the two girls, grated cries of ecstasy accompanying each fierce ejaculation from his cock. Months of Miranda's toying had backed him up beyond endurance -- or so it felt -- and now he expended great jets of liquid relief into lissom Lysette's tight bottom. Take it all! Take it fucking all, girl -- every last fucking drop! How the girl's ass would accommodate his insane jizz-fountain he had no idea, nor did he give a damn. All that mattered was the most delicious emptying he had ever experienced. It was as long as it was shattering -- and by the time his balls squeezed out the final drops he was six foot three of spent fuck-force with nothing else left to give.

Mac's grip on Imogen's head and Lysette's shoulder eased, as exhaustion and relief overtook him. The blonde's tongue slithered free of his rectal passage and she fell away from him. He drew his sated cock free of the moaning redhead, a gluey mess of cum trailing after him. More of the stuff had squirted free of her and was clinging to his balls and thighs. If he'd ever climaxed more dramatically than this, the memory eluded him. The only scenario to provide greater satisfaction, he considered, would have been the wrecking of Miranda's ass itself. Still, Lysette had been a worthy proxy -- matching hair-colour included. Gratifyingly, the girl was still rubbing out another orgasm on her clitoris, even as his semen oozed from her wide-fucked asshole. He turned to check on the burglar's blonde partner and with a further shot of pleasure discovered Imogen frigging herself busily on the floor of the shower.

So am I really a bad-guy here?

He rinsed his groin region, cock included, as the well-shafted pair worked their way to caterwauling completion. "Damn -- look at the pair of you. You little bitches love it."

Lysette subsided into the shower pan once she was done, lying on her side close to the kneeling Imogen. They glanced at each other in a daze, as he stood over them. "Get rinsed," he said, as he stepped from the cubicle and began to dry himself off. "There are plenty of towels in here and your clothes are where you left them. I want to see you both in the living-room before you leave."

He gathered the girls' things from around the house and his own clothes from the bedroom, cracked open a bottled beer from the kitchen and took it to his favourite leather armchair in the living-room. A sense of serenity overtook him body and soul as he sat there, still naked, and swigged. All the wrongs in his life had been righted in a few short hours -- or so it felt in that moment. The girls duly joined him, dried-off and back in black, but minus the stocking masks. They stood before him side by side, still bedraggled in appearance and unsure of the protocol in such a circumstance. Mac marvelled that he could stretch out nude before them with such composure. He tipped his bottle back and let the dregs flow over his tongue, leaving it up to his guests to break the silence.

Unsurprisingly it was Lysette who ventured to speak. "So... are we all done here? Is everything settled between us?"

"You mean have you fucked your way out of trouble?"

"Yes, that's what I mean." Imogen looked at her partner-in-crime, then back to Mac with imploring eyes.

"Well," he said, feeling a kind of twisted affection towards his uninvited guests, "it would seem churlish to take any action now that we've all become such good friends. Don't you think, Blondie?"

Imogen squeaked some attempt at a reply and then looked at the carpet, her cheeks reddening.

"Don't you think, Scarlet?"

"I like to think you're not a total bastard," said the girl whose ass he had so soundly fucked. She was shifting uncomfortably, a reminder to him of where his cock had recently been. "And that you know to quit when you're ahead."

"I am ahead, aren't I?" He smiled at the thought. "And Miranda's little scheme has gone so sadly awry. Say hello to me when you speak to her by the way. Tell her I'll forgive her since I got such good sport from her hot little minions -- but that I won't fucking forget. Tell her the game's back on. No -- scratch all that and tell her to call me. Then I can let her know in person." He picked up Miranda's phone and tossed it to her. "Catch, Scarlet." She grabbed hold of it, fumbling slightly. "She's been calling. Now that's a conversation I'd love to hear -- but I've had enough drama for one night, so I'll let you do it in private." He paused and they looked at him uncertainly. "That's it -- you're dismissed. Pick up your stuff and get your spanked asses out of here. And shut the door behind you."

They gathered their belongings and made to leave, Imogen meek and Lysette a sullen kind of pacified. On an impulse he called the blonde back, delving into the pocket of his discarded trousers and retrieving a business card. "Here," he said, rising and pressing it into her palm. She stared back in puzzlement, then looked away as though abashed by his naked body. "I've got a black tie function to attend next week," he told her, "and you'd grace my arm nicely. I'll book a hotel room for after."

Her stare grew into one of amazement. "But why... why would you think I'd... I'd..."

"I can't imagine," he said, letting his expression warm a little. "But I'll look forward to your call nonetheless." He enjoyed the confusion on her face as she left the room to catch up with her friend. Then he waited for the front door to open and shut, before reclining into his armchair once more.

In silence Mac contemplated the events that had just unfolded. Sleep beckoned and he wondered if he'd believe all that had transpired when he awoke. If he questioned his sanity, then a good straight-talking chat with Miranda would set that right.

"Got you," he said, toying with the beer bottle between his fingers. For once I damn well got you, you conniving bitch. And there's no describing how good it felt.

Question was -- what now?

* * * *

They sat in the driver's and front passenger's seats, the redhead and the blonde, staring at the panel of the former's cell phone and hardly daring to look at each other.

"Well, she can hardly blame us," Lysette said eventually, glancing through the windscreen at the gathering dawn. "She lost her own phone after all. Suppose we'd better get this over with -- she won't want to wait for the story."

"I know," Imogen replied, but with uncertainty in her tone.

"What did he have to say to you?" Lysette inquired as the call rang out.

"What? Oh -- nothing. Just more of his... his -- you know -- jokes. I... I never want to see him again." The remark hung in the air, peculiarly unnecessary. She gripped her purse reflexively, like it contained some form of contraband.

The blonde's discomfort was cut short by Miranda's clipped tones on speaker. "Well? What happened?" The voice made both girls jump.

"I think you know what happened," Lysette said, wary but a touch defiant. "We were caught. Red..." She shifted in her seat as in discomfort and Imogen mimicked the motion involuntarily. "Red-handed."

"That much I guessed. Before or after you left the envelope?"

"After."

"Good. Did you mention it?"

"No, we didn't. Not a word. We kept that part quiet." She and Imogen exchanged bemused glances.

"Also good. So tell me -- what did he do?" The voice on the phone was no-nonsense, cutting right to the chase.

"He didn't call the police," Lysette explained briskly. "He's not going to now. He was thinking about it, but... but he didn't. We're off the hook, or I'm pretty sure we are -- all of us."

There was a brief pause, both girls staring at the phone expectantly. "What changed his mind?" their boss inquired.

Lysette glanced at Imogen, the blonde clutching her purse hard and biting a plump lower lip. "He gave us a choice," the redhead told her boss. "A very clear choice. We took the alternative, didn't we, Imogen?"

The other girl fought to find her voice. "Y-Yes, we did."

"And what was the choice?" Miranda asked, her voice losing none of its cool. "What did you do?"

Lysette shot another look at her partner and they both blushed. "We fucked him," she said, like it was a shared guilt. "Both of us." Her look darkened and she added, "A lot."

This time the pause was longer. "Tell me about it," Miranda said.

"What?" Lysette looked at Imogen, confused.

"Tell me about it," Miranda repeated, her tone noticeably more husky. "Tell me everything he did to you both. Don't miss out any details. I want to hear it all."

* * * *

Mac treated himself to a continental breakfast in his kitchen before making the call. Sleep had enveloped him like he could scarcely remember and he'd woken with a rock-hard erection that was testament to the evening just past. Oh it had happened all right, every nasty thrust of it. Those would be two very sore girls this morning, the redhead in particular. He had fucked them like each was a Miranda doll, custom made for his catharsis. He wondered if the silly blonde would take him up on his offer. If she did, her ass would receive what it had so narrowly avoided...

No matter. If she did, she did. There were other considerations, the primary of which was the ongoing situation with his ex-wife. After that, he could firm up his lunch arrangement with Paul and update Alan Sinclair on the ongoing divorce battle. Armed with recollections of his triumph, he hit her name on his phone's speed dial and braced himself for that struggle. Miranda's phone rang a good six times before she answered.