Chapter 8: The Recruit
Johnny stood frozen in the doorway of Keli’s apartment, the cheap wood of the frame digging into his palm. His heart was a jackhammer against his ribs. Three pairs of eyes held him, gleaming in the low light from the television screen, which cast shifting blue shadows over naked skin.
“Don’t just stand there, baby,” Keli said, her voice a low, smoky thing. She didn’t move from where she lay sprawled on the velvet couch, one hand cupping her own breast, the other trailing lazily through the damp thatch of curls between her legs. “We’ve been waiting for you. Getting ourselves… ready.”
Gabby, a redhead with a sharp, hungry smile, let out a soft giggle, her fingers circling her own nipple, pulling at it. Sammie, darker and quieter, simply watched him, her legs shifting wider on the cushion beside Keli in silent invitation. The air was thick, cloying. Perfume, booze, and the unmistakable tang of female arousal.
“What the fuck is this, Keli?” Johnny managed, though his body was already betraying him. He felt his cock swell, pressing insistently against his jeans. The image of Carly from that morning—her grin, the cum on her fingers—flashed and then dissolved, burned away by this more immediate, overwhelming fire.
“It’s a party,” Keli purred. “You’ve been so tense lately. We thought you could use a real release.” She lifted her fingers from her pussy, glistening, and sucked them slowly into her mouth, her eyes never leaving his. “Gabby and Sammie wanted to see if I was telling the truth. About how big you are. About how much you can give.”
“It’s true, then?” Gabby asked, her gaze dropping to the obvious bulge in his pants. “She says you’re a real fucking fountain. I love that.”
Johnny’s mind screamed one thing, but every other part of him screamed another. The memory of Carly’s trusting eyes this morning as she left for the clinic felt like a relic from another life. This was now. This was heat and wetness and three mouths begging to be filled. He took a step forward, and the door clicked shut behind him, sealing him in.
“Get over here,” Sammie said, her first words, direct and husky.
He moved as if pulled by wires. Keli sat up, reaching for his belt buckle with practiced ease. The other two women closed in, their hands on his shirt, pushing it up over his abdomen, their fingers cool and eager against his feverish skin. The room filled with the sounds of his belt clinking, his zipper going down, their quickened breaths.
His jeans and briefs were pushed down to his thighs, and his cock sprang free, already fully hard and throbbing. A collective, appreciative sigh went through them.
“Jesus,” Gabby breathed, wrapping her hand around his shaft. Her grip was firm, confident. “She wasn’t lying.”
Keli nudged her aside, taking possession. “Told you.” She leaned forward, her thick black hair brushing his stomach, and took the head of his cock into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around the tip, licking up the bead of precum that had already formed. The wet, hot suction was instantaneous bliss. Johnny groaned, his head falling back.
But it wasn’t just Keli. Gabby was kissing his stomach, his chest, biting at his nipple while her hand kneaded his ass. Sammie stood and pressed herself against his back, her naked breasts soft on his shoulder blades, her mouth on his neck. He was surrounded, consumed.
“On the couch,” Keli ordered, pulling her mouth off him with a lewd pop. “I want to watch them first.”
He was pushed backward onto the large, stained sofa, landing between Gabby and Sammie. Keli straddled his lap, facing him, but didn’t take him inside her. Instead, she ground her wet pussy against the length of his cock, coating him in her slickness as she kissed him deeply, her tongue delving into his mouth. He could taste her, and the faint tang of another woman.
“Gabby,” Keli murmured against his lips. “Suck his cock. Make