Guest: I'm glad you're enjoying this one. You know what they say, even a broken clock is right twice a day.

Guest: I stay getting roasted.

A late summer fly, sluggish and emaciated like a Holocaust survivor on liberation day, picked slowly across the ceiling, its steps wobbly and unsure. It reminded Clyde of someone walking on ice and trying their damndest not to slip. He tracked its progress with his eyes and flattened his lips into a tight, bloodless slash (when you politely say hello to a Caucasian person and they give you this look). He'd been watching it for nearly an hour, alternately cheering for it to fall and for it to succeed, once even belting out his best Rob Schneider. You can do it! Something told him there was a metaphor to be had in that languishing insect, but he was too lazy to look and too dense to find it if he did. He recalled a movie or television show where someone accused a dorky looking kid in glasses of being a nerd. Dorky just hung his head in shame. I wish...nerds are smart. Hahaha, that was him. A geek, but not a nerd. There's a difference, you know. A nerd is passionate about science, history, academic shit, whereas a geek is all about media. Video games, sci-fi, Star Trek, Hobbits, Middle Earth, mathcore.

At least that was the distinction he used. He wasn't dumb, but he wasn't a nerd either. He was passionate about Ace Savvy, King of the Rings, Steal That Car: Gary, Indiana; and The Living and the Dead. Ask him to do advanced multiplication, and he'd be lost, but ask him about why the main character in The Best Kids was really the good guy and not the villain, and he'd whip chart graphs out of his ass. You'd also get at least one furthermore. When you hear that, you know someone means business.

You know who was really smart, though? Stella. She made straight As, and did it with the ease of a freaking genius. He always kind of envied her that, but never did he find it cute. Why would he? There's nothing cute about schoolwork. Closing his eyes and thinking about her, however, he always pictured her as she invariably was every single class period: Legs crossed, bent slightly over, pen sweeping and whorling across the page, forehead pinched, determination in her eyes.

Why did that turn him on so much?

And then there was Jordan. He played kickball, tag, and a million other games with her during recess, and sometimes after school let out. He knew her cocky expression well; big, defiant grin, one eye squinted slightly in a wink-of-death, head tilted down like a bull getting ready to charge. Whenever he saw it, he felt just a little trepidation because that meant she was playing to win. Looking back, he could never remember feeling anything else for it, but now, conjuring it in his mind's eye like a gypsy stirring visions in her crystal ball, it took his breath away. The desire to pepper her face with kisses came over him like a shroud, and he saw himself brushing his lips urgently across her features. Nose, chin, brow, the ridge of her cheekbone, and especially her mouth.

He drew a deep, unsteady breath and let it out through his nose. It did little to alleviate the weight on his chest, however.

Above, the fly staggered, retained its footing with a single arm (is that what they're called?), and dragged itself back onto all sixes. Stop being a drama queen, dude, it's only early October. The weather was starting to cool off, but it wasn't cole enough to wipe out all the flies. Was it?

Something else he didn't know. See what I mean about being a geek but not a nerd?

He wasn't self-loathing, just stating facts. It's kind of hard to be down on yourself when two girls as great as Stella and Jordan liked you. He could do it, he supposed, and probably had, but, hey, stupid always finds a way, right? He had nothing to pity himself over.

The more he thought about Jordan and Stella's...arrangement, ya know, agreeing to share him...the more he liked it. Girls are like...hm….flavors. You got your chocolate, your vanilla, your strawberry, and your pistachio (for all y'all with brain damage). Most men can only have one at a time. He, on the other hand, got to have two. One smart, kind of shy, and the other bold and fiery. Topkek? More like topUMF. The best of both worlds.

Nerd though he was not, he was smart enough to know that the chances of him marrying one of them one day were small - who marries their high school sweetheart much less their elementary school sweetheart? - but he was thinking about marriage now. It's kind of strange to ask someone to settle for one flavor for the rest of their life. Marrying a chocolate gurl means that you can never have cherry or frozen custard ever again. Bizarre. People are complex and have needs that, realistically, one other person can't really meet. Take him, for instance. Stella liked King of the Rings too, Jordan did not. Jordan liked video games, Stella couldn't play them to save her life. You could be rough with Jordan, but with Stella you had to be gentle~

They were like two halves of a whole, perfectly complementing and contrasting each other.

Damn, when you get right down to it, I'm lucky as fuck. I don't even care if I'm a secondary character anymore. Like...okay, cameramen, go follow Lincoln, leave me alone with my ladies. We're gonna be awhile. I'll see you in...eh...ten episodes? Actually, nah, Imma just sit the rest of the season out. Have Linc hang with Poppa Wheelie if the script calls for a BEST FRIEND. Say we got into a fight or something, idc.

He sighed contentedly and watched the fly scuttle toward the crease where the wall met the ceiling. Lucky. Never thought that word would apply to me, but I was wrong. Wouldn't be the first time.

His smile fell a little.

Wonder when the hammer's gonna drop.

There had to be some hidden pratfall in here somewhere, a crouching horror just waiting to pop out and grab him, got'cha, mossy! Every good thing comes with a price tag; like they say, there's no such thing as a free lunch, and if something seems too good to be true, it probably is.

They also say the moon is made of cheese. Will you relax? Stop being paranoid, my man, nothing bad's gonna happen. Nothing bad at -

Someone knocked on his window.

Starting, he sat up like a man from a nightmare. When he saw Cookie, his heart sank.

Oh, no.

Before he, Jordan, and Stella...ahem...hung out in the library, Cookie came onto him, held his hand, and all but said I wanna be your girlfriend. He had reservations, but let's be honest here, he was a huge dork with issues and she was a cute, feisty girl; he jumped at the chance to go out with her, no pride, no shame, no second thoughts. Then, Jordan confirmed his worst fear, the thing that sprang instantly to mind when he realized what Cookie was doing: That she didn't want him, but rather, wanted something from him.

After that, he, Jordan, and Stella got carried away and the sting he felt when Jordan broke the news was washed completely away, like blood by sweet, blonde haired peroxide followed by almond eyed alcohol. Umf. He didn't spare her a single thought until Lincoln told him she practically tortured his address out of him. She sounded mad, and it was probably at him. Sure, she was just using him, but still, she'd play that you cheated on me card and probably break his neck. He lived for, like, three days in dread of her coming, but she never showed, and he allowed himself to think she wouldn't.

He swallowed thickly and stared at her with wide, frightened eyes. Instead of breaking through the pane and floating in like a vampire, she flashed a beaming smile and waved, then pointed at the window sash. Let me in.

Clyde had seen The Lost Boys, and a piece of dialogue came back to him. Don't ever invite a vampire into your house, silly boy...cuz they'll fuck you up. Those last four words weren't part of it, but you get the picture. If a vampire was that bad, imagine letting a woman scorned into your house. They say hell hath no fury like, and Clyde wanted to make it through life without getting closer to hell than that dumb group home.

Cookie's smile remained, and her eyes flickered with a warm suffusion that made his heart knock. She didn't look like a vampire...or a woman scorned. She looked...giddy, with just a hint of anxious, her simper straining slightly at the corners of her pink mouth and her brow cutely creased. She pointed insistanly at the sash, and Clyde got to his feet, drawn to her by that special magnetism only a girl can exert over a boy. Her eyes darted nervously from his face to his feet as he approached, and her smile took on an almost worried quality that kind of hurt to behold.

She might be using him...and her intentions might not be pure...but he had a weakness for cute girls. Sue him.

At the window, he unlocked it and lifted the sash, tiny metal wheels squeaking in the tracks. A cool night breeze washed across his face, bringing with it the faint scent of Cookie's perfume. She raked her teeth over her bottom lip and lifted up on her tippy toes, then back down, as if in some strange but endearing form of greeting. "Hi," she said shyly.

"Uh, hi," Clyde said haltingly. "What are you doing here?"

She gave an exaggerated shrug of the shoulders - I dunno - and giggled sweetly. "I was just in the neighborhood," she said, "so I thought I'd drop by."

He opened his mouth but snapped it closed again when he realized he was going to spill the beans on Lincoln. "How did you know where I live?" he asked. There, let's see what she says to that, Little Miss Use-'Em-and-Abuse-'em.

Her smile didn't waver. "I made Lincoln tell me." Her eyes squinted and her nose twitched, lending her the appearance of a clever and self-satisfied rabbit. "I really wanted to see you. Can I come in?"

No, don't invite her in, she can't cross the threshold unless you tell her it's okay. Keep your mouth closed and you'll be safe. "Uh, I-I really can't. I-I'm grounded." He hooked his thumb over his shoulder as though GROUNDED were a being made manifest, perhaps sitting on the dresser and messily eating from a fun sized bag of Doritos and getting crumbs on the floor.

"It won't take long," Cookie said, and her eye twinkled with mischief.

Okay, Clyde wasn't exactly what you'd call experienced with women, but he thought he was decent at analyzing people; every instinct in his body told him that whatever she may be, Cookie was not angry with him. That lavacious little glint in her eye, like a suggestive wink, told him she either wanted to do things with him, or wanted to trick him into thinking she wanted to do things with him.

Maybe turning her away would have been best, but his curiosity was piqued, and he kind of wanted answers. "Alright," he said.

Cookie's face sparkled with exuberance. She slapped her hands onto the ledge, jumped, and climbed over the sill with the grace and ease of a small, tree dwelling bear. The hem of her purple skirt rode up, and Clyde caught a flash of pale purple panties on creamy, freckle smattered flesh. His airways closed and suddenly, he was warm all over, as if in the gentle throes of a low grade fever. Cookie smoothed the front of her skirt and glanced at him, her eyes flicking quickly away and her cheeks blossoming a coy shade of pink. "Nice, uh, nice room," she said and looked around, mostly, he suspected, so she didn't have to look at him,

"Thanks," he said. As far as bedrooms go, it was a little on the bland side. Desk against one wall, dresser against another, headboard and nightstand pushed even with the third. The only poster was a top down view of One-Eyed Jack's upturned face on the door, his fist clenched and raised about his head. He thought Jack was about to punch someone until Harold told him it was most likely a black power fist. That sounds like a cool superpower, he said, what does it do?

Gains respect and equality.

Oh.

Lame.

Cookie's gaze traveled restlessly around and her blush burned brighter as if in response to dirty thoughts. Clyde watched her a moment, waiting for her to say something, and when she didn't, he said, "I kind of want to talk to you. About...something."

"O-Okay," she nodded. "We, uh, w-we should sit down." She looked past him, at the bed, and her face turned scarlet. She brushed past him and sat on the foot, her back stiff and her hands clasped to her knees. Clyde's eyes went to the smooth, milky flesh between the tops of her socks and the bottom of her skirt, and his stomach gnashed. He was warmer than before, hot even, and stirring...down there.

Maybe...maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

He sat next to her, living a wide gap between them. His heart throbbed and his stomach churned like a stormy sea. In the corner of his eye, Cookie's hands tremored, her pink tipped fingers digging into her knees as she made a vain attempt to hide her nerves. There's a cute girl...sitting on my bed...and unless I took a wrong turn at Fullretardville, she wants me.

Maybe even...that way.

She also wasn't one of his girlfriends.

That realization struck him like a jackboot to the sternum, and a burning mixture of guilt and shame descended over him. All he wanted to do was talk to her. Whatever she had in mind - and by the looks of it, it's pretty fucking hot and steamy - she can keep to herself. I just wanna know what the hell's going on here. "So," she said, her voice a shaky croak, "what do you want to talk about, C-Clyde?"

The beautiful way she hitched when she spoke his name, as though passing it over her lips made her heart skip, sent a jolt into Clyde's center, and a grimace of pleasant pain ran across his face. She turned her head to look at him, and in the limelight of her eyes, Clyde felt the strangest and keenest sense of being exposed, vulnerable, like a naked convict when the spotlight falls on him mid-escape.

If he didn't get it over with, he'd choke. He tried to lift his gaze to hers, but discovered that he couldn't. How should he approach this? "D-Do you really like me?" he heard himself ask, and winced at how inarticulate that sounded. It was, however, the most direct and straightforward question he could have posed. At the heart of the matter, wasn't that what he wanted to know?

Cookie's brown angled down in a nonplussed V. "I do," she said earnestly, "why...why would you think I didn't?"

"Well, because...Jordan said you just wanted to use me and weren't serious about being my girlfriend." Even as he spoke, it occurred to him that he probably shouldn't have dragged Jordan into it, but it was too late, so he leaned into it like a man into a fall.

Cookie's face darkened. "She's lying." she spat, "I do like you. It's her and Stella who aren't serious. They just don't want me to have you."

"They don't?" Clyde asked cautiously. He thought back to that day in the library, their eyes hazed with love and lust, their lips grazing his skin and their hands stroking him through his jeans, the bliss of their velvet touch coaxing the most powerful orgasm he'd ever had from the very center of his being.

They were lying?

His head spun with confusion and he looked down at his feet in an effort to get his bearings.

Not giving him the time, Cookie reached tentatively out and laid her hand on the back of his, her incredible warmth flowing into him and knocking his heart off balance. "I do like you, Clyde," she swore, her voice like a sacred oath. He looked up at her; desperately sought truth in her eyes; and found it.

She smiled weakly and scooted closer, her knee glancing his. "You're strong, manly, and brave," she said and slipped her fingers through his. The slender shape of her hand sent shivers through his body, and his breathing took on a ragged hue. "What's not to like?"

"There's a lot not to like about me," Clyde blurted, and looked contritely down. "I'm not very...great."

"Yes you are," Cookie gasped in surprise. "At least….I think so."

Their eyes met, and the world shrank away until the only thing that existed was the girl before him. She broke from his hand and touched the side of his face, a giggle bursting from her throat. "You're handsome, masculine...and a real badass." She leaned closer, her eyes locking with his and her lips parting. "Just what I want in a boyfriend."

Clyde's hand fluttered to her cheek and his fingertips into her hair. For a moment they gazed deeply into each other's eyes, then their lips touched and Clyde kissed her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and caressing hers. She kissed him back, with the same fawn-on-ice clumsiness that both Jordan and Stella had but with more gusto; she grabbed the front of his shirt in both hands dragged him flush to her, and attacked his tongue with hers. Clyde's eyes flew open in surprise, and before he knew it, they were tumbling back into the bed, Cookie latched to him like an angry marsupial, the kiss breaking and a grunt shocking from Clyde's chest. She planted her knees on either side of him, thrust her butt into the air, and pinned his shoulders to the bed. Her face hovered inches above his, her hot breath puffing against his face and her devilish little smirk coated with smeared lip gloss. Fire blazed in her eyes, and Clyde didn't know whether he was turned on...or terrified.

She placed a wet kiss to his chin, then his cheek, her tiny breasts skimming his chest as she moved up his jawline. She panted heavily, kissing faster and harder, her girlish passion, locked between her thighs for so long, cresting with shocking rapidity. Her lips fused to his, and their tongues grappled wildly, his brain scrambling and all conscious thoughts departing him in a rush. Cookie trembled like a high tension wire thrumming with power, and Clyde clapped his hands to her butt for purchase. Her skirt had hiked around her hips, and only a thin layer of cotton separated her from his touch. Dank heat rose from her in sultry waves, and when he ran his middle finger through the dip between her ass cheeks, stroking the soft, dizzyingly hot center of her femininity, she purred into his mouth.

Pulling away from his lips, she pushed up slightly, her nails digging into her shoulders, and rocked her hips slowly against his erection. Clyde could feel her sick humidity through his jeans, and his back arched with blind, animal instinct, his bulge prodding mindlessly between her legs, each meeting of hard iron and silky, yielding flesh ripping a gasp from their throats. Cookie sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and moaned, shudders racing through her smoldering body. "Take off my underwear," she whispered.

Clyde jammed his thumbs into the waistband of her panties and brushed them down her butt, freeing the source of her heat. She lifted one knee, then the other, then reached back and pulled them over her ankle, flinging them aside. She grinned down at him, bent, and kissed him. "Now take yours off."

She drew back a little to give him space, and sputtering like a retard, he fumbled at the button of his jeans. Cookie bit her bottom lip and watched in giddy anticipation, her chest rising and falling. He got it, then pulled down the zipper. Bowing his back, he pulled them down, followed by his underwear. His dick sprang out like an urban Jack-in-the-box, and Cookie's eyes crossed. "Wow," she breathed in wonder. She looked up at him and then back at his cock, the smutty light back in her eyes. "It's really big." She wrapped her fingers around it, and Clyde's spine tingled so hard he cringed and let out a long, wavering nngh~ like a character in a poorly written internet lewd. It pulsed hotly in her hand, abjectly begging to be joined with her body, and she gaped down at it, so frozen in her maddening desire that she could scarcely breathe. She looked at him, her eyes wide and her face the color of blood. She licked her lips…

...then guided him to her center. Her wet heat involved him and his body jerked; his tip slammed into her middle, just above her opening, and they both moaned. She bowed her head, loose strands of hair veiling her face, and took a deep, shivery breath. Her grip loosened, then tightened again. Slowly, shakily, she brought him to her entrance. She aligned their sexes and settled just enough that his tip pushed against her well. Their eyes met, and Clyde's heart stopped. Neither moved, both poised on the precipice, one swift thrust away from the point of no return. She ran her hands gingerly over his chest, and he cupped her hips. His body twitched, his dick ached, and every atom in his body crackled with need.

Molten fire leaked from her core and dribbled down his dick in rivulets, joining the precum already flowing unashamedly along his shaft. He threw his head back and lifted his hips, needing her body around his so badly he shook.

Cookie fisted his shirt in her hands and started to lower herself.

When someone cried out behind her, she started.

She and Clyde both turned to the window. Stella and Jordan glared, Jordan's hands on the sill and her body tensed, ready to vault to over. "Get off of him, you little bitch," Jordan hissed.

Clyde's stomach dropped. Cookie's grip on his shirt tightened possessively and her pussy lips formed around his head...also possessively. "Oh, hi, girls," she said, her tone dripping with venom.

"What do you think you're doing?" Stella demanded.

Clyde swallowed thickly. Neither Stella nor Jordan looked at him. They were both focused on Cookie with the laser guided intensity of heat-seeking missiles, their eyes hard, features twisted, lips tight.

"Losing my virginity to my boyfriend," Cookie replied, drawing the final word tauntingly out. She splayed her fingers on his chest and swiveled her hips, her oozing hole swirling around his tip and teasing a moan from his lips. Sweaty bangs veiled Cookie's fevered eyes, and she smirked icily at her competition. Clyde could do nothing but hold tighter to her hips. It penetrated the smoke in his brain that shit was about to go down and he had to play peacemaker...or something...but he was right there, knocking at Cookie's door. Nothing mattered but quenching the fire licking his body and casting off the burden of his mind bending lust.

Jordan's lips curled over her teeth in a sneer and Stella's forehead crinkled angrily. "He's our boyfriend, not yours," the latter said.

"Get off him right now or I'll come in there and whip your ass," the former barked.

Cookie traced his head with her body, eyes locked defiantly with Jordan's, then, with a pained gasp, she sank herself onto his rod.

Clyde speared deep into her boiling core, and his entire body exploded with sensation. Clutching her hips hard, he cried out and threw his groin against hers, her scorching walls wrapping themselves around his shaft. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes squinted, a look of pleasure and pain pinching her face. Stella sucked a shocked intake of breath and Jordan snarled.

Holding onto Clyde's shirt, her eyelids fluttering, Cookie turned to them and tried to speak, but the quvers of sensation rippling through her body converted them into sharp exhalations instead. She could feel every inch of Clyde's dick straining against her walls, spreading them with every throbbing beat of his passion; his tip prodded the back of her womb, pressing on her cervix and sending tendrils of beautiful agony along her spine, from the back of her prickling neck to the top of her butt.

She was full, and if she went too fast, as fast as she always wanted to, as fast as she once believed she could handle, her pelvis would split.

It stung so bad, but felt so fucking good too. Oof.

Jordan and Stella glared at her, murder in their eyes. "What?" she said, her voice a breaking whisper, "You said get him off." She turned back to Clyde and smirked at the cute way his eyelids fluttered. She started to rock.

"Fucking cunt," Jordan spat. She scrambled over the window sill and landed on the floor in a heap. Cookie went faster, working through the pain. Her eyes rolled back in her head and Clyde lifted to meet each of her downward motions. His head battered the opening of her womb, knocking cries from her throat.

Just as her orgasm hit, Jordan grabbed her by her hair and dragged her violently off. Tears welled in her eyes, and the pulsing pleasure tearing through her body intensified. She trembled and moaned as Jordan flung her into the wall; her teeth clamped her lower lip and her toes curled inside her shoes. Jordan stood at the foot of the bed, taking giant gulps of air. She looked between Cookie and Clyde, her desire to rip the little bitch apart for taking Clyde's V-card - rightfully hers, by the way - at odds with her desire to take her place on Clyde's dick. She'd never seen one in real life before, so she didn't know if it was big or small, but it was flipping hot. It thobbed with every beat of his heart and glistened with his and Cookie's mingled excitement. He squirmed like a bug and behind his glasses, his eyes narrowed to lustful slits.

Fuck it.

She hurried kicked her shoes off, hopping momentarily on one foot, then yanked her shorts and underwear down past her knees. She kicked them aside and jumped onto the bed. She swung one leg over Clyde's hips and shifted onto his lap, the heat rising from his dick unlike anything she'd ever felt before. He looked up at her in shock, and she leered like a perv. "My turn," she said. She grabbed his wrists, held them above his head, and jerked down.

His dick impaled her, and her skull swelled with a bursting combination of ecstasy and agony. Clyde threw his head back and issued a strangled cry. Jordan let out a series of hitching gasps and sucked her lips into her mouth to keep from screaming. Her body shook and convulsed, her walls squeezing him and her hips thrusting involentarly.

Across the room, Stella came through the window with a stumble. Cookie lay on the floor, panting and staring up at the ceiling with narrow, bliss filled eyes. Stella stood where she was, watching, her jaw slack and her breathing heavy.

Jordan ignored the pain and went faster, the bed frame squeaking and the headboard rhymically slapping the wall. Clyde rocked his hips urgently in unison with her movements, and his face twisted. His tip raked Jordan's walls and pounded against her limit, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

Without warning, Clyde froze. She furrowed her brows in puzzlement, then gasped when he grew inside of her, bigger, hotter, thicker. Moaning, he thrusted his hips one last time, then molten lead spurted deep into Jordan's womb. Her own end came out of nowhere and consumed her in a ball of flames. She fell limp against him and spasmed like a possessed woman speaking in satanic tongues; Clyde bucked and shivered, his dick packing his load deeper and deeper.

When it was over, she lay next to him, his creamy seed spilling from between her legs. She brushed her fingers through her hair and basked in the warm afterglow of her first climax with a boy. Next to her, Clyde gasped for breath, his dick still hard and his pubic hair matted with thick white globs of cum. At the foot of the bed, Stella stared at it longingly, her face red and her eyes smoldering. She pressed her knees together and held her hands to her crotch like a little girl who had to pee really, really, really bad. Jordan propped herself up on her elbows and looked between Stella and Clyde. "Now it's your turn," she ginned.

Stella's eyes widened slightly and darted to Clyde's dick. Cookie sat up against the wall now, looking spent; a hazy smile touched her lips and her eyelids fluttered. "You got enough left in there for Stella?" Jordan playfully asked Clyde.

Clyde nodded. It was all he could do. "Yeah."

"Come on, Stell," Jordan said and patted the bed, "you're gonna love it~"

Stella hesitated, then came tentatively over. She stood over Clyde and stared down at his fully erect penis like a girl coveting a tasty confection in a bakery shop window. She reached for it, then drew her hand shyly back. "Go on," Jordan urged, "touch it."

Darting her eyes back and forth between it and Jordan, she reached out again and closed her fingers around it, her heart sputtering at the unexpected softness of his skin, and the heat. It was like holding a piece of metal fresh from a kiln. She traced it with her fingers, exploring and tasting her girlish curiosity. Her stomach fluttered and her core clutched tightly. She stared at his dick, bewitched, and slowly sank to her knees, needing to touch it...and to taste it.

She leaned over, brushed the slick, salty tip against her lips, then took it into her mouth. Clyde's body tensed and his hand went to her head, fingers threading through her hair. The flavor of salt and copper coated her tongue and the inside of her cheeks, and her pussy dampened. She pushed down until he touched the back of her throat just like she did with the hairbrush. Her gag reflex triggered, but she held it back.

Stroking his shaft, she pulled back, then went down again, working up as much saliva as she could and letting it drip down his rod.

When she couldn't take anymore, she spit him out and climbed onto the bed. "Here," Jordan said and moved aside. She patted the spot she just vacated and grinned. "I have an idea."

Stella got into position, then, at Jordan's direction, she knelt, laid her cheek against the blanket, and thrust her butt up like a bitch in heat. "Doggystyle," Jordan smirked. She glanced over when Cookie sat on the bed, her eyes half-lidded.

Clyde got on his knees behind Stella. He pushed her skirt up over her lower back; she wore white panties, bespeaking virginal purity. In Clyde's addled brain, that was really fucking hot. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled them down with the unrushed leisure of a man opening a present. Her butt spread to reveal her pink center and her fragrant heat caressed Clyde's senses. She let out a tiny hum at the feeling of cold air and shifted, drawing her knees up.

"Put it in her butt," Cookie said huskily.

"That comes later," Jordan said, "right now he's gotta pop her cherry."

Clyde licked his lips. Stella wiggled her butt as she sought a better position. She didn't mean it to be tempting, but it was anyway. Gripping her hips, he pressed his dick to her opening and she jumped. "Relax," Cookie said.

"Yeah," Jordan added, "it kinda hurts at first but it feel really good afterwards."

Stella regulated her nervous breathing and nodded. "Go on, Clyde," Jordan said, "fuck her."

Clyde drew back a little, then surged forward; his dick slid deep into Stella's virgin passage and she hissed through her teeth. She grabbed two handfuls of the blankets, winced, and jerked out a high pitch mewl not unlike a cat in pain. Her body clenched around him and he moaned. "Relax," Jordan repeated. She rubbed a comforting circle in Stella's back and leaned over to imbile the heady scent of hers and Clyde's lovemaking.

Pulling back to almost the head, Clyde slammed forward again. Stella gasped and held fast to the bed. He slowly increased his speed, and soon her grunts of pain turned to moans of pleasure. Her muscles stroked him furiously and her natural lubrication swished around him like bubbling acid. She arched her back and threw herself into his drives, her head bowing and her bangs obscuring her eyes. With every thrust, his balls slapped her pulsating clit and teased her nearer to the end. Cookie and Jordan both watched with blushes and Cheshire smiles, Cookie nibbling her lip and Jordan stroking her hand along Stella's back. Did it make her gay that she wished she had a dick to ravage Stella with too?

Throwing her head back, Stella moaned loudly. Clyde rammed quicker, quicker, his face flushing. Finally, he stopped, and Stella's shocked cry told Jordan that he was shooting his nut into her. Stella shuddered and rode out her finish with a faltering hum. Clyde hung his head and panted for air, then pulled out; thick cum flooded from Stella's pussy and trickled down the backs of her thighs in gleaming rivers.

Weary with exhaustion, Clyde flopped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Cookie snuggled up on one side, and Jordan and Stella on the other.

"I guess sharing isn't so bad," Cookie allowed.

"We'll split him even," Jordan said and ran her index finger down his chest. "And maybe we can have girl time too."

Clyde took a deep breath through his nose. Every dog has his day, an old saying goes, and today...today was his.

Maybe I'm useless and not as interesting as my dads, and maybe I don't add anything, but I have three beautiful, half naked girls curled up next to me, so...I think I'll manage.

Lincoln can keep his wacky ass adventures and his ten lame-o sisters.

I'm perfectly happy with my life.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to bust a nut in Cookie so she doesn't feel left out.

Umf.

I won't make any promises, but I have the vague idea for a sequel in mind. Maybe I'll get to it one day, maybe I won't. I really can't say.