Chapter 2: The Bet
Scott’s eyes locked on Alyssa’s, seeking an explanation, a denial, anything in her familiar face. He found only a flushed, wide-eyed fascination that mirrored his own pulse. Brianna’s fingers, cool and deliberate, traced the line of his hip. “The bet,” she whispered, her breath hot against his neck, “is about whether you’re as… impressive as you seem.” The towel’s knot gave way with a soft rustle.
It pooled at his feet.
Alyssa’s sharp inhale was the only sound. His cock, thick and fully erect, jutted out from a thatch of dark hair, the head flushed a deep, ruddy purple in the warm light. Brianna let out a low, appreciative hum. “Fucking hell,” she breathed, her hand circling his shaft without hesitation, her thumb smearing a bead of moisture from the tip. “I win.”
Scott’s entire body was wire-taut, every scar and muscle defined under the strain of holding still. He watched Alyssa’s gaze, terrified and enthralled, travel the length of him. “Jesus, Alyssa,” he managed, his voice gravel.
“I’ve never seen one,” she whispered, the confession torn from her.
Brianna’s hand began a slow, firm stroke. “Well, now you have.” She dropped to her knees, her eyes never leaving his. “And you’re about to see what a real one can do.” Her tongue, pink and wet, licked a long, slow stripe from base to tip. Scott’s head fell back against the doorframe with a dull thud, a ragged curse escaping his lips as her mouth, impossibly hot and skilled, engulfed him.
The wet suction of her mouth was a brutal, exquisite torture, her tongue swirling under his crown as her hand worked the base. He groaned, hips twitching forward instinctively, driving himself deeper into that tight, slick heat. Alyssa hadn’t moved, her knuckles white where she gripped her own doorframe, her lips parted.
“Fuck, Brianna,” Scott gasped, his fingers tangling in her damp hair.
She pulled off with a lewd pop, her chin glistening. “See, Alyssa? He likes it.” She grinned up at him, her thumb rubbing his slit. “He’s fucking dripping for it.”
Scott’s eyes shot to Alyssa, her expression a devastating mix of innocence and hunger. The wrongness of it, the heat, the dizzying shame—it crested and broke something in him. “Hold on a second,” he grunted, his voice thick.
He bent, movements jerky, and snatched the damp towel from the floor. Wrapping it hastily around his waist, he avoided both their stares. “I can’t. Not with Alyssa here.” The statement hung in the steamy air, weak and transparent.
Brianna rose slowly, unfazed, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Really?” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, never breaking eye contact. “Seemed like you could just fine.”
Alyssa finally spoke, her voice small. “It’s okay, Uncle Scott.”
“It’s not,” he said, but the towel tented aggressively, betraying him. Brianna saw it, her laugh a low, knowing sound. She closed the distance, her nipple brushing his arm through the terrycloth.
“The towel’s lying, soldier,” she murmured. “And so are you.” Her hand palmed the stiff bulge, squeezing. “One door closes, another opens. Your call.”
He stared at the desperation in Alyssa’s eyes, so different from Brianna’s calculated heat. “I don’t know anything,” Alyssa whispered, her voice trembling as she took a step closer. “Cody and I just fumbled around, and I’m… I’m terrified of Friday night, Uncle Scott.”
Her confession, raw and honest, punched through the last of his resistance. Brianna’s hand still rested on his towel, a brand. “Let me show her,” Brianna said, her tone shifting from seduction to something like persuasion. “Let me teach her what a man really needs, so she isn’t scared.”
“Please,” Alyssa breathed, her gaze dropping to the obvious bulge in the towel. “I need to know.”
Scott’s resolve shattered. A rough sound escaped his throat as he released his grip on the towel. It fell open. Brianna’s fingers immediately curled around his thick shaft, giving him a firm, possessive stroke. “Good,” she purred, guiding him toward the bed. “Now watch closely, sweetie.”
She pushed him onto the edge of the mattress and knelt between his spread legs without breaking contact. Her dark eyes held Alyssa’s as she leaned forward. “First, you don’t be afraid of it,” Brianna said, then took him deep into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing. A wet, slurping sound filled the room. Scott’s hips jerked, a guttural “fuck” tearing from him as her head bobbed, a slick rhythm already established. “See how I use my tongue?” she mumbled around his cock, the vibration drawing a ragged groan from his chest.
She pulled back, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his glistening tip. “Your turn,” Brianna said to Alyssa, her voice husky. “Wrap your hand around it. Get a feel for what a man feels like.”
Alyssa’s approach was silent, her movements glacial. Her small, cool fingers brushed his thigh, making his muscles jump. Then, tentatively, she circled the base of his cock with a trembling hand. “It’s so hot,” she whispered, her touch feather-light.
“Squeeze it, girl,” Brianna commanded, guiding her own hand over Alyssa’s. “Feel how hard he is for us.” Together, their hands tightened, and Scott saw stars, a deep, shuddering breath escaping him. Alyssa’s thumb experimentally stroked the prominent vein along the side. “And the skin is so soft here,” she murmured, fascinated, her fear momentarily forgotten in her clinical exploration.
Brianna smirked, releasing her grip. “Now move your hand. Up and down. Like you mean it.” Alyssa obeyed, her initial strokes awkward and dry. The friction was exquisite, a rough, desperate pleasure that had his balls tightening. “Use your other hand,” Brianna instructed, her own moving to cradle his heavy sac, rolling the tight orbs within. “Play with his balls, Aly. He loves that.”
Alyssa’s second hand cupped him, her touch impossibly gentle, a stark contrast to the firm, claiming stroke of her first. The dual sensation, the innocent curiosity mixed with Brianna’s expert torment, was unraveling him. “Jesus Christ,” he growled, his hips pumping up into Alyssa’s fist. Her eyes widened at his thrust, but she didn’t let go, her grip firming. “That’s it,” Brianna praised, her own fingers now tracing his perineum. “You’re making him crazy. Feel him pulse?”
Alyssa nodded, her breath coming faster, her own arousal evident in the flush spreading down her chest. “I can feel it,” she breathed, her stroke gaining a shaky rhythm. “I can feel everything.”
Scott’s control was a frayed wire, snapping. “Enough,” he gritted out, his hand covering hers to still her frantic strokes. The room’s heat felt suddenly oppressive, toxic.
He looked directly at Alyssa, her lips swollen from biting them, her eyes glassy with a desire he knew she didn’t understand. “Melissa,” he said, using her full name like a bucket of cold water. “You really should stop.”
Her hand flinched beneath his. “You’re getting married on Friday.” The words tasted like ash. “It’s one thing to watch Brianna, but you should really stop.”
Alyssa recoiled as if slapped, the raw hunger in her eyes flooding with shame. Brianna’s laugh was a sharp, dismissive sound in the humid air. “Oh, come on,” she sighed, her fingers trailing possessively up his inner thigh. “She’s just getting started.”
“He’s right,” Alyssa whispered, but she didn’t pull her hand away from his feverish skin. Brianna leaned in, her mouth hovering near Alyssa’s ear, her gaze locked on Scott’s tormented face.
“He doesn’t want you to stop,” she murmured, her voice a velvet poison. “He’s just scared of how much he wants it.” To prove her point, she took Alyssa’s wrist and guided her small hand back to his throbbing cock, wrapping both their fingers around its slick, rigid length. “Feel that? That’s not a man who wants you to stop.”
Brianna’s gaze held Alyssa’s, a challenge smoldering in the humid air between them. “He wants this,” she whispered, her lips so close they brushed Alyssa’s with each syllable. Then she closed the distance, kissing Alyssa full on the mouth.
It wasn’t gentle. It was a deep, claiming press of lips, a slow slide of tongue that made Alyssa whimper against her. Scott watched, frozen, as Brianna’s hand tightened over Alyssa’s on his cock, forcing a brutal, slick stroke. Alyssa’s free hand fluttered, then settled on Brianna’s bare waist, her fingers digging into the smooth skin.
Brianna broke the kiss, a thin strand of saliva connecting their mouths. “See?” she breathed, her eyes black with triumph. “Nothing to be scared of.” She turned Alyssa’s face toward Scott, her thumb smearing the girl’s wet lower lip. “Now show him you’re not a scared little bride.”
Alyssa, her eyes dazed and lips swollen, let herself be guided down. Her breath hitched as she faced the rigid, glistening reality of him. Tentatively, her tongue flicked out, catching a bitter, salty drop from the tip. A ragged groan tore from Scott’s chest. “Fuck, Alyssa.”
Encouraged, she opened her mouth, taking just the head inside. The hot, wet clutch of her innocence was almost too much. Brianna coached her, voice husky. “Deeper, baby. Use your hand with your mouth.” Alyssa obeyed, bobbing clumsily, her nails scraping his thigh. The clumsy, eager suction, the sight of her friend’s hand working in tandem with her lips—it was a devastating, obscene perfection. Scott’s hips jerked off the mattress. “I’m not gonna last,” he warned, the words strained.
Brianna just smiled, her fingers threading through Alyssa’s hair. “Then don’t.”
His control shattered.
Scott lunged for his phone on the nightstand, his fingers fumbling against the cool metal. The camera app flared to life, its screen a sterile rectangle framing the depravity before him. “Yeah, film it,” Brianna growled, her voice dripping with approval as she pushed Alyssa’s head down deeper onto his shaft.
Alyssa gagged softly, her eyes rolling up to meet the lens, a tear tracing through her blush. The wet, choked sounds of her mouth working him filled the room, syncing with the quick rasp of his own breath. Brianna leaned back, a curator of chaos, and the pale yellow sundress she wore clung to her every curve, the fabric translucent where it stretched across her breasts, the dark circles of her nipples stark and visible.
Scott panned the phone, capturing it all—the dress, the tears, the obscene connection between his body and his best friend’s daughter. He still had no idea what Alyssa looked like under her own baggy clothes, but Brianna was laid bare. “Touch yourself,” Scott heard himself command Brianna, the words foreign and thick.
She smiled, a slow unveiling of teeth, and her hand slid under the thin fabric. She palmed her breast, her thumb brushing over the nipple pressed against the cloth. “Like this, Aly?” she moaned, her head falling back. “See how easy it is?”
Alyssa watched, her mouth still stretched around him, a low whimper vibrating against his skin. Scott zoomed in on her face, then on Brianna’s hand moving under the dress. He was capturing every second, every shudder, making it real and permanent. This was no accident anymore; it was a record.
Brianna’s eyes flicked from the phone’s glowing screen to Alyssa’s strained mouth. “Okay, switch,” she commanded, her voice husky. She tugged on Alyssa’s hair, pulling her off his cock with a wet, messy sound.
“There’s more to a man than just the shaft, baby.” Brianna’s hands, firm on Alyssa’s shoulders, guided her down further. “You gotta worship his balls, too.” Alyssa stared at the heavy sac drawn tight against Scott’s body, her expression a mix of trepidation and raw curiosity. “Just lick them first, get them wet with your pretty little tongue.”
Alyssa leaned in, her breath warm, and tentatively lapped at the wrinkled skin. Scott jolted, a sharp hiss escaping his teeth. “See how he reacts?” Brianna murmured, her own fingers tracing Alyssa’s spine. “Now open your mouth. Take one in, gentle-like. Suck on it like a hard candy.”
Alyssa obeyed, her lips forming a soft ‘O’ as she enveloped one tight orb, her tongue swirling tentatively. The sensation was electric, a deep, pulling ache that made Scott’s thighs tremble. “Fuck, yeah, just like that,” he grunted, the phone in his hand dipping slightly. Brianna’s fingers tangled in Alyssa’s hair, applying gentle pressure. “Get them both in there if you can. Show him how hungry you are.”
Alyssa, emboldened by his reaction and Brianna’s praise, tried to take more, her mouth stretching, her sucking becoming more deliberate and wet. The lewd, slurping sounds filled the steamy room, mixing with Scott’s ragged breathing. Brianna watched, her own arousal evident, and whispered, “You’re a natural, Aly. Look at him. He’s fucking gone for you.”
Brianna’s whisper was a hot, secret vibration against Alyssa’s ear, her lips brushing the shell as she spoke. “Now move lower, baby. Lick his asshole. All men love it; very few will ask for it.” Alyssa froze, her mouth still wet from his balls, her wide eyes searching Brianna’s for confirmation. Brianna just gave a slight, imperceptible nod, her gaze steady and commanding.
Alyssa’s breath shuddered out, a warm puff against his perineum, and she obeyed. Her tongue, tentative and soft, traced a slow, wet line down from his sac, over the tight pucker of muscle hidden there. Scott’s entire body seized, a choked, guttural sound ripped from his throat as the shocking, intimate contact sent a violent jolt of pleasure up his spine. “Oh, fuck,” he rasped, his hips lifting off the bed involuntarily, his knuckles white around the phone.
She did it again, this time with more pressure, a flat, lapping stroke that made his cock twitch and leak onto his stomach. The filthiness of the act, the complete submission in it, shattered him. “Yeah, just like that,” Brianna purred, her own fingers digging into Alyssa’s shoulder. “Make it wet. Get your tongue inside him.” Alyssa pressed closer, her nose buried against him, and the tip of her tongue breached the tight ring of muscle.
Scott saw white. The phone tumbled from his hand, thudding onto the rumpled duvet. “Jesus Christ, Alyssa,” he groaned, his hand fumbling down to clutch her hair, not to guide but to anchor himself against the torrential sensation. She whimpered but didn’t pull away, her tongue working in shy, circling probes that unraveled him completely. Brianna watched, one hand sliding between her own thighs, her expression one of dark, satisfied conquest.
The phone was a cold, slick presence against his palm. He fumbled it, his grip unsteady, before raising it shakily back into the air. The screen’s glow illuminated the intimate, shadowed space between his spread legs.
He focused the lens, zooming in until the frame was filled with the glistening, pink tip of Alyssa’s tongue. It pressed, insistently, against his clenched hole. “That’s it, Aly,” Brianna whispered, her voice hoarse from the humid air. “Make it wet for him.”
The muscle yielded. The phone captured the precise moment her tongue breached him, a slow, invasive penetration that made his own cock jump against his stomach. A thick strand of saliva connected her lips to his now-slicked ring. “Fuck me,” Scott breathed, not to anyone, the words a ragged confession to the device recording it all.
Brianna’s hand moved faster between her own legs, the sound dampened by her dress. “You like that, don’t you?” she asked him, her eyes on the screen. “You like her tongue in your ass.”
He couldn’t answer. Alyssa moaned, the vibration traveling through him, and her tongue delved deeper in a shallow, fucking motion. The obscene, wet sounds were crisp in the phone’s microphone. “I can feel you shaking,” she murmured against him, her voice muffled, and the sheer filth of the observation shattered his last pretense.
The tremor in his limbs wasn't from fear. It was a current of pure, degrading need. Her whispered words broke the last dam inside him.
"Enough," he growled, the word a bark of command that froze both women.
His hand, large and rough, shot into Alyssa's hair, fisting the damp strands at her scalp. He wrenched her head up from between his thighs, her mouth glistening, her eyes wide and confused. In one brutal, continuous motion, he dragged her forward, guiding her gaping, wet lips back onto the throbbing head of his cock.
"Don't stop," he ordered her, his voice low and relentless.
Simultaneously, his other hand clamped onto the back of Brianna's neck. He shoved her downward with a force that was not a request, pressing her face firmly against the slickness Alyssa’s tongue had left behind. "You wanted in?" he rasped at Brianna. "Then get in there. Use your tongue properly."
Alyssa gasped around him, her mouth forced wide, sucking instinctively as he pushed himself deeper past her lips. Brianna moaned, a dark, thrilled sound against his skin, and her tongue immediately delved into him with a practiced, swirling pressure. The dual assault of Alyssa’s inexperienced, tight heat on his cock and Brianna’s expert, filthy tongue probing his asshole tore a raw, animal sound from Scott’s throat. His hips began a shallow, frantic rhythm, fucking into one mouth while grinding back against the other.
The world narrowed to wet heat and penetrating pressure, a devastating feedback loop that coiled his spine. "Gonna come," he snarled, the warning ripped from him. He shoved the phone toward the obscene connection of Alyssa’s lips stretched around his shaft, ensuring the lens captured every twitch, every pulse. His release wasn’t a wave but a violent eruption, thick ropes of semen painting the back of Alyssa’s throat before jetting across her cheek, her eyelid, the bridge of her nose.
She gagged, pulling back as more splattered her chin and the hollow of her throat. Scott panted, his body ringing, and aimed the phone steadily at her ruined face. "Brianna," he ordered, his voice rough and spent. "Lick it off her." Brianna didn't hesitate. She rose, her eyes gleaming, and leaned into Alyssa’s trembling frame. Her tongue, broad and flat, swiped up the sticky mess from Alyssa’s jawline, collecting the spend. She then sealed her mouth over Alyssa’s, forcing a deep, messy kiss, sharing the bitter taste between them. Alyssa’s hands came up, fluttering, then clutching at Brianna’s shoulders as their tongues tangled in the transfer.
Alyssa’s throat convulsed as she swallowed, her eyes squeezing shut. When they opened, they were glazed, fixed on Scott’s phone held steadily in his hand. “You swallowed it,” he stated, the phone’s red recording light a tiny, accusing eye.
She nodded, a slow, dazed movement. “Yeah.”
Brianna laughed, a low, humid sound, and wiped her own mouth with the back of her wrist. “All of it?” Scott pressed, zooming the lens on Alyssa’s flushed, streaked face. “Every fucking drop?”
“I… I think so.” Her voice was a scraped whisper.
“Prove it.” The command was flat, cold. “Open your mouth. Show me it’s empty.” Alyssa, moving like she was underwater, complied, tilting her head back and opening her jaw wide for the camera. Her tongue, pale and wet, lay flat in her mouth, clean of any evidence. The phone captured the hollow of her cheeks, the soft palate, the finality of the act. Scott let the silence stretch, the only sound their ragged breathing and the faint hum of the phone. He finally lowered the device, the screen going dark.