She Said Yes! Read Free

was eerie, almost empty, but far away, she heard a thudding beat coming from the television in the renovated basement. So they were down there.
    Pulling the suitcase in behind her, she shut the door and locked it, then turned off the porch light. At the hall closet door, she slipped off her dress shoes and breathed a sigh of relief as her bare feet splayed out flat on the plush carpet. “God, yes,” she moaned. Getting out of those tight shoes was almost a better release than sex.
    On tiptoes, she moved towards the doorway under the stairs that led to the basement. From the front door she hadn’t been able to see the amber light down there, because there was a turn in the stairwell that obscured it. With one hand on the wall to guide her, she started down, moving carefully to sneak up on them. Each step amplified the sounds from the basement—the thudding beat resolved itself into cheesy music heavy on electric guitar, and the wah-wah pedal backbeat made her think instantly of 70’s porn films.
    My God, no, she thought, stopping a few steps up from the turn that would put her in full view and alert the guys to her presence, are they watching a porno?
    Then she heard breathy gasps, a rhythmic pounding that sounded like bedposts knocking against the wall, and she stifled a giggle. Seriously? Did anyone really watch these things anymore? She tried to conjure up an image of Johnny and Ben sitting side by side on the sofa and staring at the television with bored expressions on their faces as they watched people rutting on the screen in mock ecstasy and simply couldn’t do it.
    This she had to see for herself.
    Taking the last few steps, she leaned down and peered around the wall, and almost instantly pulled back. She bit back a gasp, her heart hammering wildly in the back of her throat. From the stairs, she could partially see the television, and had seen enough to know it wasn’t just any porno they were watching, but a gay porno—one guy had been on his hands and knees on a bed, blowing another man kneeling in front of him, and a third was ramming the first doggy-style from behind.
    What the—?
    But that hadn’t been all she’d seen. No…she risked another peek, just to be sure. This time she didn’t pull back quite as quickly, because it was obvious neither Johnny nor Ben were paying any attention to anything other than the television. Both were on the sofa, side by side as she had suspected, but from her angle on the stairs, she could see that both men had their flies open wide, their hard cocks jutting from tangled curls embedded in tight white underwear, and they were jerking themselves off while watching the movie.
    At least they aren’t jerking each other off, she thought, and a thrill ran through her at that image, which came unbidden to her mind. All too easily she could imagine Ben’s large hand drifting across the expanse of the cushion between them to fasten itself around her boyfriend’s thick dick and squeezing until the cherry-red head threatened to pop above his fist.
    Yes, yes. On its own, her hand drifted to her crotch and pressed against the sweet ache budding at her center.
    She leaned against the wall and watched Johnny’s hand strum along his length, then glanced at Ben’s cock—his was shorter and fatter than Johnny’s, and she wondered how it would feel plugging up into her. His balls were dark and hairy, a fat sack flattened beneath the heel of his hand, and the bulbous tip of his dick dribbled with clear pre-cum. As she watched, he angled his dick towards Johnny’s and squeezed. “Sword fight,” he said.
    Johnny laughed and leaned towards Ben, touching his cock to his friend’s. They mock-fought with their dicks, bumping and rubbing against each other for a few moments, then Johnny’s hand encircled both shafts and pressed them together. Marianne’s hand cupped her crotch, rubbing her clit hard through her slacks. Is this what they did when she wasn’t around? Maybe a threesome