Tumbleweed Ménage à Trois

Tumble excerpt 2

The lengths the youth in Egypt would go to achieve some privacy were unbelievable, and it was a perfect set-up. Anyone who didn’t know about the place wouldn’t make it past the entrance, and the clandestine hideaway served to heighten my desire. My sex immediately moistened, my pulse raced and my nipples tingled with anticipation, and I looked from Momed to Hammed, licking my lips seductively.

“Would you teach us cunnilingus?” Hammed asked softly.

My stomach backflipped and my muscles clenched, and every inch of me flashed with white-hot lust. He seemed a little embarrassed and I went to him, encircling my arms around his neck and kissing him lightly on the corner of the mouth.

“I would love to,” I murmured, rubbing against the hard bulge beneath his jeans.

Momed approached from behind and nuzzled my neck, and while Hammed undid my jeans and slid them to the ground, Momed pulled the shirt over my head and removed my bra, rubbing his cheek across my back.

I’d determined the previous day Momed was the affectionate one, loving to lick and caress me all over, and Hammed was the perfunctory one, always wanting to simply get the job done, and while Momed fondled my breasts and kissed me hard, Hammed spread the blanket on the carpet. Then he drew me away from Momed and sat me on it, efficiently taking off my sandals and tugging off my jeans and panties, and he neatly folded my clothes and set them on a cushion before kneeling between my legs and eyeing me expectantly.

I lay there shivering from head to toe, liquid fire amassing between my legs and aroused like never before. They wanted me to teach them, maybe even dominate them, and I could do both.

“Get me a couple of pillows,” I demanded, and Momed quickly obliged, placing three on the blanket next to me.

I rolled on my belly and clasped one to my chest, nonchalantly dangling my calves in the air, although inside, I was anything but nonchalant. My pussy throbbed. My heart beat wildly. My muscles tightened inside and out.

“Take off your clothes. Both of you.”

Momed ripped off his polo shirt and tossed it aside, and Hammed casually pulled his over his head, neatly folded it and placed it on top of my clothes.

“Slowly, guys.”

Hammed narrowed his beautiful greenish-brown eyes, as if he was unsure he liked the game and didn’t appreciate being bossed around, and Momed swayed his hips seductively, eager to please. They did what they were told, taking their time as they slipped off their shoes and socks, and then they removed their jeans and jockeys.

I stared at them, licking my lips sensually and trying to suppress the urge to jump up and taste their fat juicy cocks, my libido going haywire. Instead, I rolled on my back, spread my legs wide and placed my middle finger in the wet and plump folds of my pussy.

“You want to lick this?” I asked, and I stroked my clit, my own ministrations sending hot sparks through my body.

Hammed’s jaw clenched and Momed’s eyes darkened.

“Yes,” Momed rasped.

“You first, then.”

Momed hastily knelt between my legs and grinned crookedly. I spread the lips of my pussy so he could see my clit amid the pubic hair, which was professionally trimmed and shaped into a small patch that couldn’t be seen when wearing a thong bikini.

“Aim here,” I said, touching my most sensitive spot.

“Okay, Haley, I will do my best,” he teased.

I licked my fingers and leaned back on my elbows. Hammed hovered over us, his eyes fixed on my sex, and I ordered, “Hammed, you hold my legs apart. Don’t let me close them.”

He gave me a lecherous grin and knelt behind Momed, jerking my legs wide and gripping my ankles tightly and a little roughly, but I didn’t mind. I liked it rough, too.

I nodded at Momed to start and he planted his tongue where I told him, flicking lightly. A bolt of pleasure ripped through me, and I gripped the blanket in my fists and watched him taste me, suck me and lavish me, moaning softly.

“Stick your tongue inside me,” I croaked, the orgasm coming for me.

He jabbed and licked, his silky tongue grooming my swollen clit with great relish and then dipping into me as far as it could reach, and I strained against the hands that restrained me, wanting to close my legs but knowing better, knowing the orgasm would be more intense if I rode it out.

The power. The ecstasy. Two hot guys at my disposal, surrendering to my demands and wanting to please me. I moaned as I bowed into Momed’s mouth, reaching the brink, my inner thighs trembling. Then one more flick of the tongue and I shattered and shuddered, the pleasure rolling from the depths of my sex up my spine and down to my toes, and I collapsed on my back and lightly patted Momed on the head like a good pet.

He grinned boyishly, pleased with himself and his lips glistening with my juices, and he slithered next to me, snuggled against my naked body and burrowed his face in my throat.

“Was it good?” he asked softly.

“Excellent,” I replied breathlessly, the convulsions in my pussy slowly subsiding, and I lifted my head to peer at Hammed, who eyed me hungrily and continued to hold my legs apart.

“Hammed, get the condoms from the camera bag,” I ordered.

He got up slowly, a bit grudgingly, and strutted to the bag. His cock looked painfully hard and bobbed with each step while Momed’s poked me on the hip, triggering my arousal again, the mud room supercharged with sexual energy.

Hammed returned and hovered above me with a handful of condoms, and I stretched my legs and sat up.

“Do you want to lick me or fuck me first?” I asked.

His answer was to drop all the foils but one and rip it open. He rolled the condom onto his cock and waited for instructions, the salacious grin back.

“Well, go ahead, take me as you wish,” I taunted.

He dropped on the blanket, maneuvered me on my hands and knees and moved behind me. There was no kiss, no sweet caresses and no foreplay. He gripped my buttocks, spread my legs with his knees and rubbed his cock on my slippery sex, searching for the opening and ramming into me when he found it.

He let out a low animalistic growl, pushed deeper inside me and rested there for a moment. I wasn’t surprised by his indifference to the rest of my body. He wanted his release and he wanted it fast, and it didn’t matter to me. He felt good. Granite hard. Stretching me. Grinding and hitting my sweet spots just right.

He picked up the pace, grunting with each thrust, and I braced myself against the relentless pounding. Momed moved to sit at my head, watching us and stroking his thick shaft with a hand, and I motioned for him to come closer.

He scooted up to my face, his bloated cock within my mouth’s reach. I rested on a forearm and swept the hair from my face, my exposed ass tilting up in the air, and Hammed adjusted his attack, drilling into me deeper, if that was possible. Then I planted my lips on Momed’s juicy engorged shaft, and both men groaned and grunted with pleasure, their gratification heightening mine.

Hammed pumped faster, furiously, his breathing becoming labored, and I steadily edged toward my own release again, each scraping stroke multiplying the exquisite sensations and bringing me closer to the brink. I removed my mouth from Momed’s cock and hung my head, unable to concentrate on him anymore, the peak within reach, and Hammed rammed into one last time and stilled, his cock convulsing riotously against the wet and spongy walls inside me.

I thrust my ass against him, grinding and craving more friction, but it wasn’t to be. He was drained and deflating fast, and he pulled out, gave my behind a wet kiss and dropped on his belly next to me, his eyes glassy and soft.

I groaned with frustration and flopped on my back, looking up at Momed, who grinned eagerly, his cock pressed against the back of my head.

“Hurry up, Momed,” I said, and he reached across Hammed and me and grabbed a condom, putting it on in seconds.

“As I wish, too?” he asked, and I rolled my eyes, giggling softly.

He scooted between my legs, pushed them farther apart with his hands and slowly sank into me, a growl rumbling deep in his chest, and then his hands and mouth roamed across my body at will. Kissing me hard. Massaging my breasts. Licking and sucking my nipples while plunging in and out of me at a snail’s pace, taking his time with long and sturdy strokes.

I wrapped my legs around his hips, thrusting against him and urging him to go faster, but he refused to rush, savoring me as if I was his favorite dish, and when I embraced his muscular back and pressed him to me, he struggled free and pinned my arms above my head.

“Hold her, Hammed,” he said.

My eyes widened with surprise and he shrugged, giving me his crooked grin.

“You said I could do what I want,” he admonished.

“Of course.”

And what he wanted was to ravish me, and while Hammed restrained my hands, Momed taunted and teased me until I was practically purring. Every inch of my flesh tingled. My nipples puckered and ached. My pussy dripped with hot need. And it was only then his tempo increased, steadily moving faster and harder.

I was wound up tight and ready to combust. I met him thrust for thrust, his fat cock raking me over the coals, and the faster he went the hotter the fire burned within, and then it flashed white hot and a powerful orgasm blistered through me.

It was one of those orgasms that left me blinded, dazed and gasping for air. Hammed released my arms and I wrapped them around Momed, hugging him tightly as the spasms raged and he reached his own climax. He went limp, his body heavy and crushing me, and I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, left delirious and shuddering.

I might have fallen in love with Momed after that, but I no longer cared about love, and when I could breathe again, I laughed blissfully and Momed laughed with me. Then he braced his hands on the floor and pushed up, suspending his sinewy body above me, and he studied me for a moment before kissing me softly on the lips and collapsing on the blanket next to me.

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