0 comments/ 13089 views/ 8 favorites Salting The Wounds By: KKHowling This is a sequel to "Will He Catch Us?" * The following week, Trisha totally avoided Jimmie. He called several times, at first furious, then offering her a chance to apologize, then furious again and once drunk and almost crying. She didn't know what to do or what to say to him. After having sex with his roommate right in front of him, there was no way she could face him in the harsh light of day. She was shocked and shamed by her behavior that night. It was almost as if someone else had taken control of her body, used her like a puppet. But it had been her, Trisha knew. And she had taken great delight in inflicting a lot of hurt on a man who genuinely cared for her. And for whom she genuinely had deep feelings for as well. It didn't add up. Why the hell would she ever do something so vicious and hurtful? Well, she did have to admit that it was the most erotic, hot and sexual thing that had ever happened to her. By a long shot. Something about that scenario still made her blood bubble and her panties wet. She didn't like to admit it to herself, but every time she remembered that stunned look on Jimmie's face, she felt a warm tingle in her loins. All the more reason to avoid Jimmie. But eventually she ran into him on campus. There was no avoiding that. The conversation was one of short sentences. A question with a short answer. Shrugs and tears. Trisha tried to be honest with Jimmie. That she didn't know what had compelled her to behave like that. She shrugged and looked down when he asked her if she liked hurting him like that. There was a long, awkward pause and Trisha waited for the inevitable tirade. The berating and dressing down she deserved. A loud, humiliating public break-up. But it didn't happen. Instead, Jimmie asked her to meet him for dinner and talk through it. Trisha was bewildered that he would even consider giving her a second chance. She agreed to meet him for dinner the next night before she even realized what he was saying. Talk through it? What the hell could they possibly talk through? She had done him about as wrong as a girlfriend could do her boyfriend. Why wouldn't he just curse her out, call her the names they both knew she deserved to be called and walk away? This unexpected clemency confused her and left her feeling uneasy. She was already regretting accepting his invitation by the time she got out of her next class. It was bothering her to the extent that she decided to skip her remaining class of the day. She was too distracted to concentrate anyway. On her way back to her apartment, she saw Russ. Trisha tried to pretend that she hadn't seen him and kept walking. But Russ saw her and called out to her to wait. She turned reluctantly and waited for him to approach. He was a good looking man, of course. The physical attraction was easily explained. But everything else about him chaffed. He was so full of himself, so brash. Yeah, he knew he was a good looking muscular athelete, the kind that some women tripped over themselves to be with. But not Trisha. How had a jackass like that ever gotten into her pants at all? Let alone under the circumstances he did? Of course, the answer to that was, it was the circumstances, not the man, that had appealed to Trisha. Somehow he had seen that desire in her, the femme fatale cruelty that delighted sexually in Jimmie's humiliation. How had he known she would get aroused to hurt Jimmie like that? She had never even suspected herself capable of that, let alone getting so aroused by doing it. "Talk to Jimmie?" Russ asked with a foolish grin as he approached. Trisha nodded curtly. She had no desire to talk to the man who had enticed her into what was, intellectually at least, the worst decision of her life. Especially because the tingling in her belly told her that while her head regretted the act, maybe her body didn't? "What did he say?" Russ asked after a pause made it obvious that Trisha wasn't going to volunteer information. "Or, more importantly, what did he call you?" Russ laughed maliciously. "He didn't call me anything," Trish shot back, suddenly angry. "He wants to meet and talk through it." She immediately regretted adding that last piece of information. "Talk through it, huh?" Russ asked in a voice dripping with sarcasm. "Talk through how hot you got fucking me with him watching?" "Fuck you, asshole!" It wasn't exactly Trisha's best comeback. It just popped out of her automatically. "With Jimmie watching?" Russ shot back. Trisha fumed, unable to think of worthy rejoinder. "At least you admit you're an asshole," she snapped. "Only if you admit how fucking hot it got you. Him waking up and seeing us." Trisha whirled away. She didn't need this. "Hey," Russ called after her. "I got an idea for you." In spite of herself, Trisha turned around and shot him a raised eyebrow. Russ caught up to her and said in a low voice, "After you talk things through, he'll probably want some make-up sex, right?" Trisha looked at Russ like he had sprouted three more eyes. She didn't really expect there would be much in the way of making up. Probably more like this was Jimmie's way of breaking up... a listing of the reasons and an explanation as to why those reasons were dealbreakers and then the breakup. Right? Did Russ really think Jimmie would take her back? Did he know something? Had Jimmie talked to him? They were roommates, of course. But Trisha couldn't really see Jimmie confiding anything in Russ these days. Before Trisha could voice these thoughts, Russ continued. "If he does, then go along with it, okay?" Trisha didn't nod or give any indication of assent, yet Russ went on as if she had. "Get him back to his room and promise him a wild time. Tell him that you really are a wild chick, and that's what he saw the other night. Your wild side." Trisha was shaking her head. What the hell was he talking about? "I'll set up the bed for you." Trisha's head was suddenly spinning. Set up the bed?? Russ continued, "I'll leave handcuffs attached to the bedposts, tucked under the pillow, so he won't see. When you get him in the bed, cuff him." "What???" Trisha blurted out, genuinely taken aback. "Yeah," Russ said in a tone that totally ignored Trisha's surprise. He was talking like she was a willing accomplice. "Get him undressed, start rolling around like you guys are going to get it on, then start telling him how wild you are and how you want to totally blow his mind and shit like that, see? And once you get him cuffed, call my cell." He looked right into Trisha's eyes as he finished the last sentence. Trisha looked back at him, gaping. Was this idiot really suggesting that, one, Jimmie wasn't going to dump her outright and two, if he somehow miraculously didn't, that Trisha was going to do this to him? It was bad enough, what had happened before. But that was so different. It was spontaneous, heat-of-the-moment bad judgement. This was... well, this was downright sinister. Evil, even. Russ was talking about a plan to do it again, with even higher stakes, without Jimmie being passed out drunk, forcing him to watch... watch... what was he going to watch? Russ fuck her again? Her suck Russ off again? Part of her was creeped out that she had ever done that stuff in the first place. She didn't really want to let Russ touch her again. Ever. "You're out of your fucking mind," Trisha said after a long pause. Still shaking her head, she walked away from him. He didn't follow her, but he did call after her. "You know I'm right. You know you want it just like that. When you change your mind, I'll have it set up, just like I said, okay?" His words went through her, like an icicle slicing into her spine. She shuddered and hurried away. * * * * * The next night at dinner with Jimmie, it became quickly apparent to Trisha that he wasn't looking to break up with her. He seemed to be looking for an explanation, some understanding of how Trisha had wound up having sex with Russ that night. It further became clear that Jimmie's memory of the night was pretty spotty. He remembered that Trisha had had sex with Russ, but apparently not any of the details. He obviously had no memory of the cruel, knife-twisting way in which Trisha had concluded that trist. How could Jimmie forgive that? The way Trisha had screamed in ecstasy as Russ had fucked her from behind to a blood-boiling orgasm... and then she had gotten on her knees and watched Jimmie's face as she sucked Russ off and swallowed his cum. No, Jimmie clearly didn't recall that vile detail or there would be no chance he would be sitting here now discussing it, trying to come to terms with it and save their relationship. So Trisha tried her best to answer his questions, tried to explain that it was something she never thought she would ever do. How she wasn't the type to deliberately hurt him, but things got carried away in the heat of the moment. During the converstation, Trisha realized that Jimmie was just looking to come up with the rationalization he needed to not break up with her. He wanted to stay with her, but his pride required some capitulation from Trisha. So she gave it to him by apologizing repeatedly and assuring him that she must have just had too much to drink that night herself. Trisha knew what a lie that was. She probably hadn't had two beers all night. But Jimmie was totally drunk, so he wouldn't have known that. Once the outcome of the conversation became clear, Trisha couldn't help being distracted by the thoughts Russ had planted. She was looking at Jimmie the whole time, but only hearing about half of what he was saying. She nodded her agreement with him as he gave a long-winded explanation of why he could forgive her and move past this. But the other half of her mind was wondering if Russ really did plant handcuffs in Jimmie's bed. And if he had? Trisha could not deny that the idea suddenly excited her. The same way Russ's proposition to make out had the first time. She couldn't concentrate on the present moment, her mind visualizing Jimmie, bound to the bed and forced to watch as... as... Trisha didn't even know what he would see. She really, sincerely did not find the thought of having sex with Russ again appealing in the slightest. But the idea of getting fucked with Jimmie chained up and watching... Did it matter who fucked her, as long as she could see the hurt on his face? As long as she could laugh cruelly at him with another man inside her? After that, her ability to focus on Jimmie and the dinner and the conversation or anything else about the present moment was gone. All she could think about was whether or not Russ really had put those cuffs there. And if she would have the guts to use them. And how would she convince Jimmie to go along with it? Would he really believe she had a wild side that she wanted to share with him? But how would she explain the fact that the cuffs were there before she was? She would have have him out of the room for a few minutes, either in the bathroom or...? She could wait until they got to his place and then tell him she would go up and get comfortable while he went and grabbed them a six pack, right? All of these thoughts... terrible, premeditated thoughts, were swirling in her mind as she smiled and nodded through her dinner conversation. By the time they stood up from the table, Trisha already knew what she was going to do. And Russ damn well better not let her down with those cuffs. When they got back, Jimmie, poor guileless Jimmie, agreed to let Trisha in and then go get some beer. Even as the door was closing behind her, she was looking under the pillow for the cuffs. They were there. A huge surge of excitement sent her body tingling from head to toe. Her hands were almost shaking as she picked one of them up and looked at it. It felt cold and heavy in her hand. The power they implied was at once terrifying and intoxicating. She was going to use these to hold Jimmie on that bed. And then she was going to... to what? That part still wasn't clear in her mind. But as long as it involved Jimmie being forced to watch it happen, as long as she could see the emotional pain she was inflicting, it would drive her insane with arousal. Trisha concealed the handcuffs again and stripped down to her bra and panties. She wanted to jump Jimmie as soon as he came back, get him excited and horny and use that to totally cloud his judgement. Then he'd be putty in her hands. When he opened the door and saw her lying on the bed almost completely undressed, his response was exactly what Trisha had predicted. He wasted no time pulling off his own clothes as he leered at her and told her how hot she looked. He got down to his boxers and slid into bed beside her and they began making out passionately. Jimmie's hands and fingers were all over her ass and her breasts. He was going at it with more excitement and urgency than Trisha expected, even though it was the scenario she had planned on. She quickly rolled him on to his back and reached her hand down his boxers. His cock was erect and warm to her touch. She stroked it as she kissed her way down his chest. Then down his belly. His eyes were gleaming with a kid-on-Christmas-Day type of excitement. He seemed afraid to move or say anything that would keep her from going where she seemed to be going. Trisha slipped her hand out of his boxers and grabbed his hard cock from the outside of them. She let her hair fall over her eyes as she put her face to it, rubbing the fabric and the hard cock under it against her cheek. Jimmie was almost shaking with anticipation. She pulled back the waistband and planted a passionate kiss on the head of his cock. "You want to make this really hot?" she asked, kissing his cock again. "Uh huh," said Jimmie, nodding eagerly, a foolish grin on his face. She let go of his cock and climbed up the bed to kiss his lips. Then she threw a leg over his chest and brought her wet panties up in front of his face. They weren't wet for Jimmie, of course, but he didn't need to know that. She ground her mound against his chin and lips as she reached for his right hand. He hardly noticed what she was doing with hsi hand, of course. Her dripping pussy lips were grinding against his face, the two separated only by the thin material of her panties. It wasn't until the cold steel of the cuff touched his skin that he reacted. By then Trisha had just about gotten it on. But not all the way. Jimmie snached his hand back in surprise. "Come on, Jimmie," she cooed in his ear. "Let's play a naughty little game tonight. Don't you want to feel my lips on you?" She slid back, her ass rubbing against his cock as she passionately kissed the side of his neck and across his shoulder. Jimmie hesitated, but only for a moment. Without a word, he put his hand back up for Trisha to cuff. Then she took his other hand and chained that to the other bedpost. Then she climbed off the bed and just looked at him. The thrill that was running through her was like a tsunami, a force she didn't think could be stopped. It was electrifying to have him powerless before her like this. At the same time, she knew she was standing in a precarious spot. Here was Jimmie, who was willing to forgive her night with Russ, was ready to have a night of wild sex with her. Here he was, totally vulnerable. She could do one of two things. She could forget about Russ and just have a wild night with Jimmie, couldn't she? Or she could go ahead with this awful, evil plan. Her eyes met Jimmie's. He was so trusting, so sincere. His eyes were like those of a loyal puppy dog and part of her felt terrible for even thinking about doing this to him. But on the other hand, nothing about having sex with Jimmie right now really appealed to her. Not that they hadn't had some good sex together... he was a good lover, considerate and skillful. But that didn't matter right now. The source of Trisha's arousal was all about taking that dog-like trust and shredding it. Violent, vicious betrayal. In the most depraved, slutty way she could think of. She called Russ. "What... what the fuck, Trish?" stammered Jimmie as she hung up the phone. "What's going on?" Trisha looked at him, the lust and arousal was still burning in her eyes, but surely he recognized that it wasn't for him that she was lusting. "Jimmie," she said in a voice that sounded at once sultry and at the same time somewhat detached. "I'm sorry. It's not that I want to do this. Not like I want to hurt you, but..." She shrugged, grinning wickedly. "I need to do it." He tugged at the handcuffs a few times with genuine force and Trisha wondered what would happen if he broke free. She soon saw there was no danger of that. Russ had secured them well. She looked him over as he gave up his struggle and lay there resigned to whatever she had planned. That resignation sent a fresh thrill through her loins. He couldn't get away. She could wantonly destroy him at her leisure. Her finger slipped down inside her panties as she mulled over the possibilities. Oh, god, she was going to cum hard tonight, she thought. "Hey roomie," said Russ as he burst through the door. His abrupt entrance startled Trisha a little. She pulled her hand out of her panties, hoping Russ hadn't seen. She had been consumed by the thought of watching Jimmie's face, see his expression with every knife she drove into his back and turned it. She wanted to see how wretched she could make him, how reduced and shriveled and humiliated. And none of those thoughts had any hint of Russ in them. Further proof if she needed it as to what was driving her excitement, Why was this scenario making her soooo goddam wet? "Dude, what the fuck is going on?" Jimmie yelled, once again struggling against the cuffs. There was a wide eyed fear in his eyes. Did he think that they were going to hurt him? Physically? "The other night," Russ said easily as he pulled off his tight fitting tee shirt, "wasn't a fluke, pal." Russ was being so direct! The way he looked at Jimmie with no remorse, no pitty... it was turning Trisha on like nothing she had ever experienced before. "I'm going to show you just how nasty she is." He nodded his head in Trisha's direction as he threw his shirt onto his own bed and started unbuttoning his jeans. Trisha's eyes darted back and forth between Russ's hands and Jimmie's face. The realization of what Russ was saying was obviously sinking in with Jimmie. The wide-eyed look was replaced by one of disbelief. At the same time, it was sinking in with Trisha as well. Russ was about to pull out his cock. Right in front of Jimmie. And... and what? Put it in her mouth? Her pussy? All as Jimmie watched? It was completely surreal. She could hardly feel her own skin, her own body. It felt like it was someone else's. Except for a few key places... her pussy was wet and tingling as anything and her nipples were rock hard bumps visible through her bra. Her eyes met Russ's. There was some sort of devilish conspiratorial smirk that she recognized immediately. And almost as quickly, the same grin transformed her face. She looked at Jimmie, showing him the malicious upturning of her lips. Russ pulled his cock out of his pants. It was thick and more than half erect. Trisha looked at it, then at Jimmie. He wasn't moving or saying anything. He was just looking at her, stunned perhaps. In disbelief, no doubt. "Get on your knees, Trisha," Russ said, his words seeming to reverberate through the small room. As Trisha sank to her knees beside the bed, Jimmie snapped out of his stupor. He began thrashing against his restraints again. "Jesus Christ, Trish! What the fuck!" He wrenched and tugged at the unyielding cuffs. "Come on! Cut it the fuck out! Take these fucking things off and let me go!" Salting The Wounds Did his voice just crack with emotion? Pain? Oh, so deliciously arousing to her. "Nah, pal," Russ answered casually as he stepped up in front of Trisha. "She really wants you to watch this. Go ahead Trisha... show your boyfriend how you suck another guy's cock." Russ's words were dizzyingly arousing. Her head swam as her body flushed with hot tingling. If she were to put her finger on her clit right now, she knew she'd cum pretty quickly. Trish a was kneeling between the two beds, not far from Jimmie's tortured face. She had subconsciously positioned herself so she could see Jimmie, even as Russ's muscular frame stepped in front of her. As Russ rubbed his hardening shaft across her cheek and up to her lips, Jimmie screamed out again. "Why? Why the fuck are you doing this?" Was he angry? There might have been some anger in his voice, but he sounded more like he was pleading. Trisha's eyes were on his face as she opened her mouth and let Russ push his cock inside. The look on Jimmie's face was priceless. She almost felt like she could cum without even touching herself. "Because she's an evil bitch," Russ laughed. "That's why she's doing this. She doesn't even like me, pal, but she's going to let me do shit to her tonight she wouldn't do with you in a million years, right?" Trisha had no idea what Russ had in mind, but the reaction his words elicited on Jimmie's face, that crestfallen, hurt look, made her body spasm involuntarily. She bobbed deep and slow on Russ's thick shaft. She felt it swell fully erect, but she was only distantly thinking about that. The way it was affecting Jimmie was the real aphrodesiac. She looked right into Jimmie's eyes as she bobbed lustily on Russ's shaft. The way Jimmie just stared back at her, chained helpless to the bed like that... it was too intense. Trisha had to close her eyes and suck for a moment, even as more spasms shook her tingling body. Suddenly, she felt Russ's fingers knot in her hair, almost painfully grabbing her by the roots. Her eyes flew open and she looked up at him. But he wasn't looking at her, he was looking at Jimmie. "Watch this shit," Russ said to him with a laugh. Without warning, he pulled Trisha's head down onto his thick cock. The pain flashed though her scalp, only to be displaced by the pain of his cock hammering at the back of her throat, triggering her gag reflex. Her throat convulsed and her stomach heaved. But her body's involuntary reflexes were unable to dislodge Russ's cock. Her eyes bugged out of her head as she gagged, fighting hard to pull her head back, even as fresh pain ripped through her scalp. Then Russ let go and she immediately pulled back and retched. She gasped for breath. Somehow she managed not to vomit. Before she could regain her composure, Russ pushed her back down on his cock. "Don't stop sucking," he admonished. "Show your loverboy here what a girl like you does with a cock." Trisha realized that Jimmie had twisted around on the bed, as if he were trying to get to her. Save her from Russ, maybe? Even as Russ's cock slipped back into her mouth and she sucked it with renewed vigor? Heat flushed through her veins, electrifying her, driving the unpleasantness of a moment before out of her mind. Yes, she was going to show Jimmie just what she did with a cock. When he was watching. She bobbed ravenously on Russ, moaning and slobbering. She was a total whore for his cock, giving her lips and mouth to him with abandon. The whole time though, she kept her eye on Jimmie as he lay chained and helpless, forced to watch her pleasure another man. It was too much. Too intense. Trisha needed release. She slipped her finger into the furnace of her pussy and with a moment of urgent finger work, she made herself cum. Hard. She bucked and moaned as the passion exploded through her. Her pussy clenched on emptiness as her whole body trembled and shook. She wanted to watch Jimmie through it all, but she couldn't. The flashpoint of her orgasm wiped away the room around her. It was several long seconds before she was able to open her eyes again. Her heart was racing, her body bathed in sweat. The heat that lingered in her after the wave of passion had passed was more intense than anything she had ever experienced before. Then she looked at Jimmie and, without the slightest touch of her finger, she came again. When her eyes opened this time, she saw Jimmie laying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. A tear trickled out the corner of his eye. That tear was at once electrifying and horrifying. It was Jimmie's humanity and vulnerability, laid bare for her to see. Trisha's humane side loathed herself for abusing him so. But the slut that was in control of her body right now grinned savagely, savoring his pain. "You remember the last time I came in your mouth with Jimmie watching?" Russ asked her. But he wasn't looking at her. His eyes, like hers, were on Jimmie. Jimmie didn't react. He stared blankly. But Russ wasn't about to give up so easily. "Tell me," he said to her. "Do you remember?" Trisha understood and responded. "Yes," Trisha replied, kissing Russ's cockhead. "I remember it all. I remember the way you took your hard, sticky cock out of my pussy. The way you put it in my mouth and let me suck it." Trisha's voice was shaking with arousal. She had to take a deep breath to steady herself before she could continue. "I remember your hot, thick cum filling my mouth. Mmmmmmm. And I remember swallowing every drop of it." Jimmie was still staring at the ceiling, but she could see his body shake with an involutary shudder. Or sob. "Are you going to feed me another mouthful of your cum tonight?" she asked Russ, her eyes never leaving Jimmie. Before Russ could answer, Jimmie's head snapped to look at her. "Come on, Trisha," he pleaded. "Don't. Don't do this. Please." Far from discouraging her, his words only inspired her to twist the dagger in his heart more savagely. "He's going to cum in my mouth again tonight, Jimmie. And he cums big, too. I'll probably have to swallow several times to get it all down, you know." "Jesus, Trish, do whatever the fuck you want, just let me get out of here. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking, taking you back after that." At last there was some anger and resentment coming through in his tone. It was delicious music to Trisha's ears. And her pussy. "I can't believe it either, pal," Russ replied. "What kind of nasty bitch would fuck another guy with her boyfriend passed out on the next bed?" "I'll tell you what kind," Trisha answered, standing up and removing her panties. "The kind that would french kiss her boyfriend while another man fucks her from behind." Trisha had no idea where that idea came from. It just popped out of her mouth before she even realized what she was saying. But once she said it, once she heard her own words in her ears, she knew that was exactly what she wanted. She bent over and braced herself on Jimmie's mattress, her legs spread wide, her back arched to present her dripping pussy to Russ. He wasted no time shedding the rest of his clothes and stepping up behind her. As wet as she was, Russ slipped inside her rather easily. She moaned in unfeigned ecstasy as his hands grabbed her hips and his thick cock pressed into her. The revulsion on Jimmie's face set her off almost instantly. Before Russ had pumped his cock in and out of her a half dozen times, she was cumming, screaming her orgasmic bliss right into Jimmie's ear. Russ continued to pound his big cock into her, sustaining the flood of passion through her. It was several minutes before she regained her awareness enough to do the deed she had described. "Come on, Jimmie," she panted as Russ's body slapped against hers. "Kiss me." Jimmie turned his face away from her, his body twisted on his side. She tried to grab his chin and turn his head, but he resisted. So Trisha slipped her tongue into his ear. Jimmie recoiled immediately, but in doing so, turned to face her. She quickly pressed her lips against his to kiss him. Once again he jerked his face to the side. "What's the matter, Jimmie?" she taunted him. "Don't you want to kiss me? Aren't I your girlfriend?" She tried again to turn his head to face her, but he wouldn't relent. Suddenly, Russ pulled out of her and pushed her aside. He stood beside the bed looking down at Jimmie. "Listen, pal," Russ said, his glistening sticky cock protruding over the bed. "She wants to kiss you and I think you should." Jimmie shook his head, clamped his lips shut and said nothing. "Nah, listen," Russ said, his tone getting more menacing. "If you don't kiss her, I'm gonna rub my cock all over your face. Maybe even shove it in your mouth. Got it? Now kiss the fucking bitch, okay?" The whole scene, Russ threatening Jimmie like that, made Trisha's legs feel like rubber. Her head was spinning, her pussy on fire as Russ grabbed her hips and positioned her back where she had been a moment ago. Once again, she was so aroused that she didn't manage to kiss Jimmie before she came again. It was as powerful as the last one, leaving her reeling, panting, barely aware of her surroundings. "Okay, pal, time to kiss the girl." Russ's words brought her back to the present and she looked down at Jimmie. He was staring at the ceiling again, his expression blank. A look of surrender. Trisha placed her lips on his and kissed him passionately as Russ continued to thrust in and out of her. Jimmie didn't resist or participate. He lay still and let her do as she pleased. So Trisha forced her tongue between his lips and into his mouth. Oh, this was almost unbearably hot, her tongue probing Jimmie's mouth while another man had his way with her! She had to pull away from Jimmie as her body began to shake with the onset of yet another orgasm. Her hair hung down in his face, her ear splitting scream making him wince. The perspiration from her brow was falling on him. Oh, it was sooo good, sooo hot. But she could make it hotter still, couldn't she? "What's the matter, lover?" she taunted Jimmie. "Don't you like kissing me with another man's cock on my breath?" She laughed and ran her tongue across Jimmie's half open lips. She slipped her fingers down and rubbed her pussy as Russ thrust in and out of it. She got her fingers good and sticky, then put them up to Jimmie's face. "Open up," she said. Jimmie didn't move. "Come on," Trisha warned. "You want my fingers or his cock?" Jimmie opened his mouth and she thrust her pungent fingers inside. He didn't move so Trisha wiggled them around in his mouth, making sure her juices made it on to his tongue. "Damn, you're really getting into this, aren't you?" Russ asked rhetorically. "I knew you were nasty, but you're even nastier than I thought!" His tone made it clear that that was a good thing. "Let me show you, pal," he said, addressing Jimmie, "just what a nasty piece of ass you got here." He pulled out of Trisha and moved her aside with his strong hands on her hips. Then he sat on the bed beside Jimmie. "Watch this," Russ said. Jimmie stared at the ceiling. Russ looked at Trisha. "Well? You need an invitation? Get over here and suck my cock. Right up next to your boyfriend so he can see how much you fuckin' love it." With no hesitation, Trisha knelt beside the bed and started sucking Russ's cock again. His pubic hair, she saw, was glistening with beads of her own orgasms. The smell of her pussy was strong and intoxicating. She looked over at Jimmie, just in time to see Russ grab Jimmie's chin and turn him to face Trisha. "Look at her suck, dude. She's like a fuckin' hoover with a cock. Did you know that about her?" Russ grabbed a handful of Trisha's hair and yanked her upright, facing Jimmie. "Go ahead. Tell him." He tugged again for emphasis. He didn't need to. Trisha would have done it anyway. The tugging of her hair only made it hotter. "Mmmmmm, Jimmie," Trisha panted. "I love it. I want to suck his fat cock all night. Make him cum down my throat over and over." Jimmie struggled briefly, but Russ was too strong. Jimmie settled for closing his eyes. Maybe she couldn't make him open his eyes, but Jimmie couldn't shut his ears. So she started sucking Russ loudly, sloppily, occasionally stopping to tell Jimmie just how hot it got her to suck Russ's cock. "Does she suck your cock like this?" Russ asked Jimmie. "All fuckin' hot and slutty like this? She ever throw her mouth on your weenie like this?" Trisha looked up in time to see Jimmie, eyes still closed, wince at the impact of Russ's words. She moaned loudly to drive home the point. She didn't make noise like that when she sucked Jimmie, of course. "Go ahead and tell him, Trisha," Russ continued. "Tell him what he already knows. That it takes a real man's cock to bring out the slut in you." This time the moan that came out of her was involuntary. She pushed her lips as far down on Russ's cock as she could go and made gagging sounds. Russ needed little encouragement. He put his hand to the back of her head and pushed. Trisha's gag reflex made her pull back, spluttering. She barely caught her breath before Russ's hand forced her back down on his shaft. The choking and gagging noises Trisha made were completely unfeigned, but if Russ hadn't manhandled her so, she would have faked them. It was almost better this way because if Jimmie did open his eyes and saw Russ forcing her, it would really rattle him, she knew. Sure enough, when Russ relented enough for her to catch her breath, she caught Jimmie peeking out the corner of his eye. He quickly closed his eyes when Trisha caught him, but it was too late. "Jimmie," Trisha said in a mock pleading voice, "please save me, Jimmie. He's gagging me with his cock in my throat. Please, Jimmie," she whined maliciously. As if on cue, Russ forced her back down, gagging her again several more noisy times. When Russ finally let her up again, she saw Jimmie's eyes were squeezed tight, as if by closing them as hard as he could, he could shut out the sounds as well. The sight of him like that, so desperate to block out what she was doing—and failing—was a rush she could hardly believe. All she wanted to do was find ways to make it worse for Jimmie, rip his heart out in the most vicious way she could conceive and eat it while he watched. Oh, god! What could she do to tear Jimmie up further? To heighten this already-incredible sexual euphoria she was experiencing? Russ grabbed her by the hair and yanked her off of his cock. A whimper of pain burst from her, causing Jimmie to wince again. And that, in turn, sent fresh thrills through her. "Go ahead," Russ said to her. "Give your boyfriend another kiss. Remind him what you taste like after sucking another guy's cock, right?" Trisha eagerly pressed her lips to Jimmie's. When he didn't move or react, she bit his lower lip. As soon as his mouth opened to protest, Trisha clamped her mouth over his and slid her tongue inside. Jimmie wrenched away from her, but not before she felt her tongue caress his, symbolically transferring Russ's cock to Jimmie's mouth. The way Jimmie's face crinkled in revulsion made it obvious that he understood. "If you think that's bad," Russ teased, "wait until the next time she kisses you. With my cum smeared all over her lips." Trisha trembled with excitement. Oh, that would be exquisite, putting her lips, covered in Russ's sperm, to Jimmie's. Jimmie's reaction indicated he found it as repulsive as Trisha found it erotic. "Let's fuck a little more first though," Russ said, standing up and pulling Trisha to her feet. He turned her so she was beside the bed, facing the foot of it. She was standing right beside Jimmie's face. She looked down at him lying beside her. The depth of his pain was displayed in the clenching of every muscle in his lean body. In the way his jaw clenched. The way his eyes were shut so tightly, as if he were trying to wish himself away from this scene. In some distant part of herself, Trisha was appalled at the way she gazed down on him so dispassionately. Seeing him only as a tool with which she could satisfy her own twisted lusts. Oh, it was terrible, to be sure. But soooo fucking satisfying, like no sex before in her life had ever been. Even the night she and Russ had first hooked up was insignificant by comparison. That had started off as the thrill of getting away with it right under Jimmie's nose. In hindsight, Trisha realized that that would never have been enough. She must have subconsciously wanted Jimmie to see them the whole time. Tonight was the confirmation of that. This was so calculating, so deliberate, so deliciously cruel. How would she ever be able to have satisfying sex again without Jimmie laying beside her, wracked with emotional pain and humiliation? Russ stepped up behind her and reached a rough hand around her, slipping a thick finger into the neatly trimmed hair of her pussy. He slid it into the ample wetness there, driving it up inside of her to coax out more juices. Trisha moaned appreciatively. Then Russ's other hand pushed on her back. Automatically, she bent forward, offering him her glistening opening. "Dude, how did you ever get a slut this hot?" Russ asked Jimmie. "I mean, c'mon, look at her. Look how wide she's spreadin' herself for me. Did you ever see her get that wet for you, pal? And look at that," Russ said, his finger prodding unexpectedly at her sphincter. Her knees buckled and she whipped her head around to look back at him. "She's got a really tight asshole, doesn't she?" Trisha felt an icy chill shoot through her. But then she saw Jimmie's eyes fly open wide. The implications of Russ's words really startled Jimmie, she saw. Not that she had any intention of letting Russ fuck her in the ass, of course. But maybe she should play along a little? It was obviously an idea that totally rattled Jimmie all over again. Russ pulled her back up and put his finger to her asshole again. It was such a sensitive area for Trisha that she couldn't stand it and had to pull away. But not without looking over to see Jimmie's face. Oh, it was everything she needed it to be. She pushed her ass back to Russ and let him work the tip of his finger against her electrified sphincter. She didn't know what was driving her out of her mind more. Having a man's finger in a place where she had never had one. Or Jimmie watching it happen. Whichever it was, as soon as Russ's finger actually penetrated her, she exploded in another orgasm, falling onto the bed as her legs folded under her. "Yeah, dude, I think she's gonna fuckin' love taking it up the ass. What do you think?" Jimmie whipped his head away, arms involuntarily straining against the handcuffs again. "I don't know," Trisha replied with feigned sultriness. "I've never had a man up my ass before. Not even Jimmie," she added with a laugh that was genuine. "So maybe tonight's your lucky night," Russ said. Trisha couldn't read his tone. Was this a game they were playing out for Jimmie? Or was he really thinking Trisha would let him fuck her in the ass? Would she? Ordinarily, the answer would be an automatic, resounding NO. But the idea of it happening with Jimmie watching... what could be more awful for him than watching his caveman roommate take his girlfriend's anal virginity? The thought sent such a strong mix of fear, excitement and lust through her that her knees buckled again and again, she fell onto the bed. She was panting, heart racing. This was another level. One she had never even considered. But now that she had... oh, god help her, it seemed soooo..... appealing. "I don't know," she gasped through the adrenaline surge. "What do you think I should do, Jimmie?" Jimmie snapped his head around to look at her. He looked at her for a moment then, without a word, turned his head away again. Salting The Wounds "You better tell me, Jimmie," she cooed, her voice dripping saccharine. "I don't trust myself to make the right decision right now." "What the fuck do you want?" Jimmie shrieked. "What the fuck do you want?" "I want you," replied Trisha, "to tell me if I should let your good friend here take my anal virginity. Tonight. While you watch." Jimmie didn't reply, so Trisha needled him further. "It'll probably hurt a lot. I mean, he's got such a big fat cock, right? And I've never had a man's cock in my ass before. I'll probably scream. Loud. And cry. And beg him to stop because it hurts too much." A fresh tear rolled down from the corner of Jimmie's eye. "I hope it does," he rasped at her in a raw, emotional voice. "Don't you care?" she asked, batting her eyelids sweetly at him. He shook his head in a tight, quick gesture, every muscle in him still clenched. "Oh, I think he still cares," Russ said, slipping his finger back into her ass and pushing it in a bit further. The squeal that came out of Trisha was completely unfeigned. Jimmie turned at the sound. "He cares 'cause he knows you don't really want it, don't you, Jimmie? But he's thinking you might just do it, if you think it'll hurt him even worse. Right so far, Jimbo? And he knows I don't care. He knows I'll shove my cock up your ass until you bleed and scream, just so we can both watch the miserable fuckin' look on his face." Russ's finger pushed deeper into her, hurting, driving home the truth in his words. "Okay, okay!" Jimmie cried. "What do you want me to do? Tell me and I'll do it! Just... just..." His voice disintegrated in a fit of sobs. Jimmie's pain combined with the pain induced by Russ's finger almost drove Trisha to another orgasm. She thrust herself back against his hand suddenly and the fresh burst of pain took her over the top. She screamed out in passionate ecstasy and fell to the bed again. As she fell, Russ's finger slipped from her. Her asshole puckered involuntarily a few times as her pussy throbbed and clenched. When she looked back, Jimmie was once again looking away. "Okay," Russ said, grabbing Trisha by the hair and pulling her back to her feet. "We can save her asshole for next time." Trisha didn't know what that meant exactly. Was Russ saying that to rattle Jimmie still more? Was he really done with prodding at her ass? She was still in a wash of warm tingling in the aftermath of her most recent orgasm and couldn't think clearly enough to sort it all out. Russ didn't leave her wondering for long though. "Come on," he said to her, grabbing her from the bed again and turning her around. She looked over at Jimmie as Russ pushed her to her knees. Jimmie was looking at them with a strange mix of expressions on his face. Clearly, he was hurt and angry. But was he relieved too? That Russ wasn't going to fuck her in the ass? Was he thinking about the way Russ had said 'next time'? What effect must that phrase have had on him? As Russ pushed his cock back into her mouth, Trisha once again began sucking him, always keeping one eye on Jimmie. After a moment, Jimmie turned away, once again staring at the ceiling, trying hard not to show any more emotions on his face. "Damn, dude, your girl really does suck cock like a champ," Russ said to his bound roommate. "Think we should bring a couple of the guys from the team up here? Let them try her out and see what they think?" Jimmie drew a sharp, deep breath but kept his poker face. "Seriously, pal, how much cum do you think she could swallow in one night?" Trisha could see the cracks growing in Jimmie's façade. Letting Russ slip from her mouth for a moment, she added one of her own. "If Jimmie will watch me, I'll suck as many guys as you can find." She bobbed sensuously on Russ for a moment, then added, "and if Jimmie will kiss me in between each one, I'll swallow as much cum as they can pump into my mouth." "Damn, dude. This is one hot slut you've got here. How come you never shared her with me before?" Finally, Jimmie seemed unable to bear it any more. He broke down, crying, body shaking with uncontrollable sobs. "Let me go. Let me go." His words were weak and pleading, choked with tears. He repeated them over and over, until they trailed off into inarticulate sounds. Music to Trisha's ears. She resumed sucking Russ's cock, but it didn't seem to matter anymore. It felt like she had already wrung every ounce of pleasure she could from Jimmie's agony. Trisha certainly wasn't concerned about Russ's orgasm. She was thinking about the way Russ had referred to a next time. And bringing in his friends, so Jimmie could see her with them too. It didn't seem likely that something like that would ever happen, but it was the fantasy that was playing in her head as she sucked Russ's cock. Wild images sprang into Trisha's mind. Jimmie, handcuffed to a chair a couple feet away, watching from a ringside seat as she sucked off a half dozen of his friends. Kissing him with lots of tongue in between each one, of course. The fantasy scenario quickly pushed her to the brink of yet another orgasm. She fingered herself over the top, pausing her sucking to cry out in ecstasy. Then she resumed sucking Russ in earnest. She knew that Jimmie was done. They had pushed him past his breaking point and there wasn't much more they could get out of him now. Russ may have known it too, but that didn't stop him from trying. "Oh, damn, pal!" he panted, his fingers running faster through Trisha's hair. "She's gonna make me cum. I'm gonna dump it right in that sweet mouth of hers." If Jimmie heard, he gave no indication. Still, the words were doing something for Trisha. The brazen in-your-face quality of them was totally working for her. She moaned and bobbed faster and deeper. "Oh fuck! I'm, telling you, dude," Russ groaned. "You should see what a nasty little cocksucker you've got here." Something about the way Russ kept talking as if she was still Jimmie's girl... it kept the thrill going for her. She slobbered and sucked, massaging the underside of his cock with her tongue, doing whatever she could to get him off. Finally, Russ groaned loudly and a second later, the hot jet of his cum shot into Trisha's mouth. She swallowed it down even as the second and third blasts were coating her tongue. She kept sucking until Russ pushed her back. Then he grabbed his cock and squeezed out a big bead of cum at the tip. Trisha understood and smiled wickedly. She leaned forward and let Russ rub his sperm across her lips like lip gloss. Then he stepped back and nodded his head toward Jimmie. Trisha knew what to do. Jimmie's eyes were closed. He was no longer crying. Just laying on the bed, breathing unsteadily. Trisha stood up, leaned down over him and planted her cum-coated lips on his. Instantly, Jimmie's eyes flew open. He was obviously aware of Trisha's intent; what this final humiliation was. He whipped his head away from her. "Dude, you can get it from her lips or straight from the source," Russ said from behind her. Trisha pulled Jimmie's head back to face her and planted her slightly parted lips on his, sensuously, tenderly, as if they were having a romantic night together. The romantic night Jimmie thought he was going to have when he brought her here. The irony of that was making her belly tingle anew. "Okay, well," said Russ, picking up his clothes and getting dressed. "Maybe I should leave you two lovebirds to have a little make-up sex." He laughed. Trisha stepped back from Jimmie and looked at Russ, slightly bewildered. She hadn't really thought about it, but she must have figured on leaving before Russ released Jimmie. Russ could certainly handle the situation if Jimmie tried to retaliate. What about Trisha? How would she deal with it if Jimmie snapped and attacked her? It wasn't like she hadn't giving him plenty of reasons. She could just leave him chained there, right? Russ would let him go when he got back, wouldn't he? Russ finished dressing, gave one of Trisha's breasts a rough squeeze. "Go on," he prompted. "I think he deserves a little make-up sex after what a nasty fucking bitch you were to him tonight, don't you?" He laughed and walked out. Trisha watched the door close behind him, then she looked at Jimmie. Jimmie was looking at her. There was a look on his face she couldn't read. It wasn't anything as simple as hatred or anger, things which she certainly would expect to see. Nor was it the totally devastated look that was on his visage a few minutes ago. There was something expectant about it though, wasn't there? Hmmmmm... what to do?