[This is part VII, the conclusion of our ongoing story "Revealing Miranda." If you missed part VI, it's alive and well and living in our archives along with parts I - V. You can click on the link below to read any of the previous episodes you missed. But to get you started, here's where we left off last week:

"My wife Vicki clamps down and Miranda yelps, thrusts her lower back up so she's practically in backward bridge pose with the pink junk of her pussy thrust out of its dark fur. And you know what? The little tramp is wet. By god, she's wet. All sorts of cream in there, welling up at the cunt edges. She's loving this. Loves having her nipples bitten by my angry wife, her twat exposed, a jealous wife's breasts crushing her, a jealous wife poking at her pussy. I'm partly disgusted, and I go to pull Vicki off her by the arm. No, I'm not really disgusted. No, not at all.

'Get off me,' the girl says dully.

...

'OK, Vicki, that's enough,' I say, timidly touching her arm. Brute conscience has me trying to stop Vicki all while I'm drinking in the sights like a lush. Sights, sounds, smells, oh. But I also don't want Vicki to go shrieky on me. I'm a torn man..."

And now for the conclusion:]


"You should get off me now," Miranda says. "Cuz if you really want him to show you what we did, I'll have to get on all fours."

"Sweet Jesus!" I say. I can't believe she'd be this crass while my wife has her pinned down. "Please, this is enough."

I'm expecting Vicki to start beating this girl around the head, or screaming or something.

"Yeah?" she says to Miranda. "So that's how it was?"

"Oh, Christ," I say again. "Why do you want to do this?"
But Vicki gets up and Miranda gets on all fours, hands and knees with legs spread and arched back, her ass and pussy all god, pink, wet, open, inviting.

What can I say? I have a raging hard-on.

"So let's show your bitch how you fucked me," Miranda growls.
Oh, god, wanting to poke her, watching her, almost terrified to look at Vicki, who is being too quiet, dangerously quiet, so I look. Vicki is pulling bra straps over her shoulders, she's yanking the bra cups down her tummy. Her meaty breasts roll out. So fat I want them. She's stripping faster than my mind can get around it.

"Honey -- " I say. But I stop. I don't know what to say because I'm not sure what's happening. My wife is suddenly naked on the lawn in all her pinky roundness. She's running her fingers over the opening of Miranda's upside down cunt, her pendulous breasts swinging over Miranda's ass. Two naked women, so different, so beautiful, and -- I can smell Vicki's juice -- both so wet. All my systems say this does not compute.

Vicki pats Miranda's pussy and says, "Her hole is waiting for you, big boy."
I'm just standing there in shock.

Then I'm watching my wife go around to Miranda's head where Miranda is lowered onto her elbows. Vicki sits, spreads her legs, slides her ass down, so her plump, oozy cunt is wide open under Miranda's face, and she says, "Eat me while my husband fucks you, you slut."

And Miranda goes down on her. Her ass and twat are spread in the air, her face is buried in my wife's pussy. My pants are wet. My wife is moaning and squirming, her thick breasts are rolling back and forth over her chest, back and forth, as the girl's up-thrust cunt winks at me and salivates.
What's going on here?

"Oh, god," Vicki says. Then "Fuck her baby. Get your meat out and break open her tight little pussy, baby."

Oh, god. I'm so hard I think if I touch my harry, it'll go off. The damned hard-on has overpowered every spec of decency -- of guilt -- I own, while my wife is talking such coaxing, convincing trash, talking up Miranda's hole, making it like the girl's some kabob on the grill I need to stick. I give up. Nature speaks. Fuck now, pay later.

What it comes down to, eh? Opportunity knocks, figure out the bullshit later.
God is Miranda wet! The slide in is so slippery, and when I pull back, her wet on my dick captures the cool air. Ungh. A good thrust. My wife somewhere forward making high-pitched shiver noises. Slam. My thighs meet pussy cushion. Miranda grunts. I squeeze her ass cheeks to pull her cunt in tight. I won't let it get away. Ungh. I want my cum to reach through the insides of this girl to my wife on the other end.

It's like Miranda's reading my mind, my give and her take are so in sync. It's like I'm being sucked into her, this little cunt. And I'm crying, if you can believe, crying as I fuck and fuck and fuck, hard, feeling the recoil of my blows echo through her body -- a tremble of her vagina, a shudder of her breasts, a quivering shimmy her ass flesh.

"That's right," she purrs.

It's her voice. She's sounding girlish and electric and horny and needy.
"Take me hard. Make my insides hurt daddy."

It's such a blur of lust. I remember grabbing nipples, fingering asshole, pressing so close and so deep. I remember shooting hard and picturing Vicki. The little she-bitch is kind of tittering, little vocal shudders. Vicki is grunting like an ox. I know she is working hard to get that come. So I'm free to work on this little she-bitch I'm pumping, lightly now because I'm shrinking fast. I reach around her and work her open so I can pinch her clit. She yelps. I start rubbing it -- so gently, but there is so much wet lube all around it, I'm not worried about friction. I seize hold of the girl's nipple, the one without the ring, squeeze it, knead it, tweak it, pull on it, stretch it. Still working her clitoris. She's crying out.

I hear Vickie scream. "Ohh!"

And I hear Miranda whisper "oh, god." As Vickie settles back, Miranda reaches her hand up, places it on top of mine and guides it over her clitoris. When she comes, groaning like a dog, she grabs my hand and forces my fingers in her hole so I can feel it beating all warm around me. When she drops to the ground in exhaustion, I'm the only one standing. Two women lying on the grass, one ass-up, the other breasts-up, like full moons. I miss having my mouth on them. I look at my wife's pussy. The juice of mingled come-saliva is all down both her legs, globs cling to the hairs of her bush. I'm surprised to see Miranda's hand resting on my wife's bush just at the mound. And when I stoop my head down I can see Miranda's pussy lips, still partially opened, and limp from my pounding. I think, poor things, they may not close for hours. But then they're so young and pert, I can visibly watch them edging together as if they're about to pray. It is such a sight, the two of them there, I can feel my cock wanting to rise again. It doesn't quite. Not yet.

And then it occurs to me -- OK, finally -- that I have been played.

"Have fun?" Vicki murmurs.

I say nothing. What can I say? I'm just starting to get my bearings.
"It felt like he was having fun," Miranda says to her.
The smells. Oh, the smells of freshly cummed women. And here I had two of them. Their fine aromatic blend was almost too much to bear.

"You come off?" My wife asks the gardener. "That man knows how to handle a woman, no?"

"Oh, yeah," Miranda says. "Every bit what you promised."

Promised. Promised. . .

Oh, yeah. I get it, now. And I get that they're saying all this for my benefit.

"As much as I've enjoyed eating your pussy these past few months, Miranda, it's ten times better when my man's in on it." This is my wife talking.

"You don't hear me complaining." Miranda shoots back. "Your man does good work."

"So you think we've convinced him to go for a threesome every now and then?" Vicki asks.

"I think we may have won him over."

"Maybe we should ask him."

Miranda is holding one of my wife's breasts in two hands, bringing it to her mouth so she can lick all around its wide areola. I'm a little envious. In my mind, I can taste that breast. The salty moisture that collects there, on the pink, when my wife works hard for her cum. My cock twitches awake. But I say nothing.

"I hope he's not too mad we did it this way," Miranda says.

"I think, overall, he can't get too mad, right hon?" calls my wife. "He'll admit he liked the thrill of it all, won't you dear?"

Yeah. I'm speechless. Don't expect to hear anything from my side of this conversation. Vicki moans and Miranda giggles. As I watch the sucking, my cock rises. Vicki has sensitive nipples. Without seeing them, I know that Miranda is making them hard. Look out or she'll want to go round again, I think. Too late. Vicki's moving her hips already.

"Should we ask him to join us?"

"I see he's coming to attention again. What do you think that could mean?"
Their voices all coo-y and strumpet-ish, I almost think I should be pissed off. All the guilt and shame I went through. And there was Vicki, up to tricks the whole time. Getting Miranda on the side, same as me! Eating pussy, same as me. The thought occurs to me to put them both over my knee -- Miranda's tight lean ass and Vicki's fleshy, rimpled, pale ass -- and spank them good. Over my knee, their supple cheeks. Make some sharp sounds, make them quiver, make them pink. But when I picture the sex -- those two moist cunts spreading and inviting?come to dinner, they're saying. Suck, taunt, taste the exciting variety of our breasts; nibble and tug on our nipples.

When I stretch my nostrils and inhale deeply. . . oh, no. No, that's not anger at all. That's bald, white heat. And I'm just going to take aim and dive in.