Jeff lit a joint, and handed it to Richelle. She took it, and took three hits in rapid succession. She had no idea how to respond to being told by Jeff that she would have to sleep with Matt if she wished to go any further with him, Jeff. But, there was one obvious question. "Why?"

"Lots of reasons. We're brothers, very close brothers, and we share a lot of things. Even though I'm the little brother, he's always been sort of in my shadow because I'm...more confident, I guess. He doesn't get the same opportunities I do, and when I have something special, I want to share it with him. And, because he's my big brother, I kind of have this need to seek his approval, I don't know why, I just do. And, I feel bad for him because he never gets laid or hit on."

Richelle drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them. "Interesting." She was recovering from the initial shock, and considering Matt Hardy, the one she'd referred to at various times as "the ugly Hardy Boy", but he wasn't really ugly, was he? He just looked plain in contrast to his colorful brother, maybe.

"It would only be one time, then you and I can move on with our relationship."

"This isn't just some ploy to push me off on your brother?" The possibility had just dawned on Richelle.

"Absolutely not. I haven't wanted to let you go since the first time I held you." Jeff held her again. "You feel so...I don't know...Custom made just for me. Please, will you do it?"

Richelle wanted to believe Jeff, but seeing as she hardly knew him, and he was a performer, she didn't know if she could. But, even if he was trying to push her off on Matt, was that really such a bad thing? Okay, he was sort of drab, he lacked Jeff's flashiness and charisma, but he was Jeff's big brother, a blood relation, it wouldn't be a terrible experience, just a not so shiny, charismatic one. "Okay," she told Jeff. "I'll do it."

Jeff looked as if she'd just agreed to his marriage proposal, and he scooped her up as if to carry her over the threshold. Her arms went automatically around his shoulders, and they kissed. "Do you mean it?"

"Yeah. I'm doing it for you, because it's important to you for some reason. I don't really want to have sex with your brother, but if that's what I gotta do to move forward with you, I reckon I'll do it."

"That's my girl." Jeff kissed her, and set her down, and after packing up, they headed back to the ranch.

Another thought occurred to Richelle. "Are you going to watch?" She asked.

Jeff shook his head. "No, that's not part of it."

Richelle stepped into the same bathroom she'd used before to re-examine the damage to her neck (two more hickeys, smaller ones) and fix herself up, not for Jeff this time, but for Matt. She brushed her hair and put the chopsticks back in, reapplied makeup and the pheromone spray. Although it was one hell of a crazy situation, she decided to go with it and show Matt Hardy the best evening of his life. She'd have him shouting her name so loud Jeff would be able to hear what he was missing. Would Jeff want to fuck right away afterwards? Was that part of their thing? Was Jeff into sloppy seconds? Should she let Matt cum inside her? She was on the patch; there wouldn't be a Matt or Jeff Jr., not by her anyway.

Richelle stepped out of the bathroom. Jeff took her hand and led her upstairs, and down a wide hallway to a pair of double doors. "Matt's suite. I'll be in my room, the other side, the door with the art on it." He hugged and kissed her, and left.

Determined not to be nervous, Richelle knocked on the double doors. Nothing for a long while. This was her future with Jeff on the line, so she was about to open the doors when Matt opened them from the inside.

She had apparently caught him in the shower, or just after it, his dark hair was wet, and he smelled of some kind of aftershave or cologne, a different scent than Jeff's, but still sensual. "Come in," he said.

"I'm Richelle. Did I...um...Is this a bad time?" She gestured at Matt's towel.

Matt laughed, and Richelle was surprised to find it quite sexy. "Nah, I just got out when I heard your knocks. Come in, have a seat at the bar."

Richelle did, perching herself on a bar stool, she saw her reflection in the mirror. Even though she was playing cool, she didn't look very cool. Her face was very red, and to notice only made it worse.

"Water?" Matt asked. "Or something stronger?"

"Water," Richelle replied, and remembered her manners. "Please."

Matt handed her a water. "I'm going to throw on some clothes real quick. I'll be right back."

Richelle wondered why Matt would bother putting on clothes if he was just going to take them off, or would that be left to her? She put the water bottle Matt had given her against her hot face rather than drinking it.

Matt emerged from the bedroom, wearing black cargo pants and buttoning a club shirt. "Sorry about that, I just finished my evening workout, and felt I should take a shower before meeting you. You're beautiful, by the way."

"Thank you," Richelle smiled, and acted the coy maiden. Matt was not ugly, as she had long thought; he was handsome, just undecorated.

Matt reached under the bar, and pulled out just what she was craving, a big, thick glass bong. "Smoke?" He asked.

"Alleluia!"

Matt filled it with ice, and packed the bowl with the highest quality stuff Richelle had ever seen or smelled. He handed the bong and a lighter to her. "Ladies first."

Richelle took a huge rip. It was so smooth she never felt in danger of choking. And, even though she was an almost daily smoker, another hit and she was good. The ice-filled bong had broken her ice, and now Matt was just any other ordinary hot guy she might have met at a bar or at the pool hall who invited her home. Matt's suite did feel like a whole house, all that was missing was a kitchen, though there was a pizza oven, fridge and microwave in the bar.

"You really are a cutie," Matt said, with, true admiration. "Jeff sure did a number on your neck, though."

"Oh, yeah..." Richelle touched the areas, and giggled a little. Weird how she wasn't thinking about Jeff now.

"Did you want me to put a spoon in the freezer?" Matt chuckled.

"No, that's okay, the collar on my work shirt will hide them."

"What do you do for work?"

"I'm the night manager at the 7-11 in Richton."

"Did you ever think about training to be a superstar?"

Richelle's turn to chuckle. "Oh, goodness no, I'm a wuss."

"That's what training's for. I doubt you're a wuss, though. You look nimble, and I'll bet I could teach you a few techniques."

Richelle coyly raised one eyebrow, a technique she'd perfected after months of practicing in a mirror. "I bet you can, Matt Hardy." She slid off her bar stool and over to his, and gently touched the open collar of his shirt. "I think I can teach you a few techniques, too." She had already figured out Matt wasn't like Jeff just in the looks department; she would have to do the seducing. "Do you want to find out how nimble I am?"

Matt smiled. "What do you think?" He seized her caressing hand, and pressed it to his fly.

Again, Matt had surprised her. "My, oh, my. I think you move awful fast," Richelle replied, in her best imitation of a southern belle. But she did grope him through his cargo pants; my, was he big. He mmm'd with pleasure, then solemnly drew her to him and kissed her.

Richelle was surprised to find him an even more passionate kisser than his brother, and she all but melted when he slipped her the tongue. If he could do that in her mouth, what in the world could he do between her-

"Want to go someplace more comfortable?" Matt asked.

"Yes."

Matt tenderly picked her up and carried her to his bedroom. It was decorated in black, white, and silver, but sparsely furnished, and almost anonymous, aside from a large, pastel portrait done in the style of VanGogh, signed by Jeff and dated 1993 that hung above his bed. He laid her down on the bed as if she were made of glass, so gentle he was, and she drew him down on top of her and began unbuttoning his shirt. He let her peel it off, and chuckled when she dropped it to the floor.

"I think I'll put on some music," Matt decided. "Anything you prefer?"

Still embracing him, Richelle shook her head. "Nuh-uh, just make sure it doesn't suck." She released him, and he departed to the other room. Not knowing how much time she had, Richelle began stripping the second he walked out. Naked, Richelle knew she was a show-stopper. Smooth, salon-tanned skin, twenty-one colorful tattoos, flat belly with sparkly navel piercing, and her perfect, perky, natural breasts, 34D.

She struck a casual, sexy, yet expectant pose, and shortly after Hey Mister began to drift in from the open door, Matt came back, and the look on his face gave her satisfaction; she'd wowed him.

"This is a CD one of my friends burned for me. Is it okay?" Matt asked her, unable to stop looking at her naked glory.

"Mhmm, it's perfect," Richelle turned over onto her tummy and gazed up at Matt. "Now, are you going to take off your pants and come play with me, Matt Hardy? Or am I going to have to come get you?"

Matt grinned, and loosened his belt. "You don't have to chase me down." He let his pants drop, and it was Richelle's turn to be wowed. Matt was very well-hung, larger than anyone she'd ever seen outside of a dirty magazine or porn movie; she'd made him hard as a rock, and to her delighted surprise, he'd dyed his pubic hair green, and had a cock piercing, not the infamous PA, but just a barbell, on the bottom side of his shaft, right below the head...not so plain after all!

"Wow! Did it hurt?"

Matt laughed, and climbed into bed beside her, and snugged her close. "Bleaching and dyeing my pubes? Nothing much suffered other than my pride; I lost a bet."

Richelle giggled. "No, the cock piercing."

"I know." Matt gave her an extra squeeze and kissed her forehead. "I was really drunk when I got it, so no, it didn't."

"It's hot. I like it."

"I can take it out before we have sex if you want."

"No, leave it in." She had never had sex with a guy who had a cock piercing before. "It doesn't hurt you, does it? You know, during...um, foreplay and stuff?"

Matt shook his head. "Quite to the contrary. It's right over one of my most sensitive areas, so it actually heightens my pleasure."

"Can I touch?"

Matt took her hand, and guided it down to his cock. "Of course you may. But thank you for asking."

Richelle handled him like fine china. Her little hand wasn't quite big enough to fit all the way around. She felt his precum wet her skin, how quickly it cooled. Matt mmmm'd again. "May I touch you?"

Richelle cast him a come-on look, let go of his piece, and posed supine on the bed. "My body is your playground."

And, Matt made it just that. He stroked and kissed every inch of her body, paying just enough attention to her overly-sensitive nipples not to send her into overstimulated twitches, but rather make her so wet she could feel the dampness on the sheet below her. Then, after kissing down the insides of her thighs, he focused his attention on what lay between. She was trembling, already on the verge of fireworks, and he hadn't yet touched her down there. He was just blowing hot air on her already hot sex spots, and Richelle feared that she would cum the moment he touched her with any part of his body, especially that gifted tongue. No one had ever gotten her so close to orgasm so early into an encounter before.

She thrust her fingers into his hair and grasped his head with both hands and wrapped her legs around his back. Finally, finally, Matt licked her button, and Richelle was helpless. Every inch of her skin was tingling, she was seeing stars, and she realized she was on the brink of passing out. But then, the most delicious sensation she'd ever felt collected between her legs, and she let out a screech she never had before as the most intense orgasm of her life seized her.

Matt knew just when to stop playing, right after the peak. When spent Richelle relaxed, he disengaged himself from her clutches, and moved up to spoon her in the quiet of the afterglow. Richelle had never felt so close to anyone before. When she could speak again, she thanked him. Matt smiled and stroked her hair. "How were those techniques?" He teased.

"I've never felt that way before. You're amazing... Hell, words don't exist to describe the greatness of your techniques..." Richelle sighed, happily.

"Do you want some water?" Matt asked, and offered her the bottle he was drinking from.

"Yes, thank you."

They shared the water, then resumed playtime. Richelle got down in doggystyle, but Matt shook his head. "I'm not really fond of that position," he said. "I'll do it if it's your favorite, but I prefer others."

It was Richelle's favorite position, but she was curious about what Matt had in mind, so she sat back on her heels. "Gonna break out your copy of the Kama Sutra?" She teased, and kissed his neck, on the same place where Jeff had bitten hers. "Teach me more of your techniques?"

"Nope, this one's tried and true, missionary. But I promise you it won't be boring, and here's your chance to show off how nimble you are."

"Yay!" Playful Richelle giggled, and posed supine on the bed again.

"Not too crazy at first," Matt said, as he eased himself between her legs, and felt her with his fingers. "I like the closeness."

Richelle nodded. "I'm ready, Matt."

Matt smiled, and poked his way in. "You're so tight!"

"You're so big!" Richelle countered, and wrapped her arms around him, drawing him close as they started to fuck, very slow, and Richelle felt the pleasure rebuilding.

"You feel amazing." He held her tight as he drove deep into her, then, just as she was about to cum again, he straightened up, and guided one of her legs to rest atop his shoulder. He went at her faster, and Richelle involuntarily dug her nails into her own thighs. She wanted to prolong the pleasure, but it was hopeless, and soon she was again crying out, this time his name: "Oh, Matt!...Oh, Matt!..." over and over, as the bubble of buildup burst into sublime pleasure.

"Oh, good girl! Cum for me, my beautiful Richelle. Good girl," Matt praised, and lifted her other leg up. She curled her hips up towards him, and went with his rhythm, hands gripping his tight ass, as he pounded her so hard she knew she would hurt tomorrow, but it didn't matter, she was off the next two days, so-

"Oh, fuck, darlin', you're going to make me cum," Matt gasped. "Should I pull out?"

"No, honey. I'm on the patch. Cum for me."

Matt groaned, and thrust into her as deeply as he could. "Oh, Richelle..." He sighed, as Richelle felt his hot cum fill her, pleasantly warming her inside. She eased her legs down, and wrapped them around him as he clung to her, breathing hard, knot still twitching inside. She brushed his long dark hair away from his sweaty neck and face and kissed him there.

As she felt him soften, she knew she should get up and make the infamous, ungraceful dash to the bathroom; gravity would soon take over, but with two hundred some-odd pounds of wrestler on top of her, she couldn't move, and didn't want to. Matt didn't seem to be the type to mind if she left a cumspot, anyway. So, she laid in his arms, and when he finally slipped out, she felt their mixed love nectar begin to drip out, itchy down her crack. She shifted uncomfortably, and Matt braced himself up with his arms to gaze down at her affectionately.

"Shower time?" He asked.

She nodded. Matt's shower was very large, but they still held each other close under the warm spray. He even stayed with her as she did her makeup and hair for the third time that day. He had to know she was readying herself for Jeff... But even as she did that, part of her wanted to stay with Matt and not go back to Jeff at all.

In the sitting room, they embraced. "Thank you. I had a wonderful time tonight," Richelle said, wistfully. "You're...delicious."

"You're a delight. Good night, Richelle, my belle."

Richelle giggled from the lovey-dovey feelings the nickname produced. "Sweet dreams, Matt my dark-haired warrior."