The Ever Scheming Workings of Mr. D's Dirty Mind; or The Answer to Question #2

As per your second question, my Prince and my Papi are two very different people.

I met Papi many years ago. I had a big fat crush on him for ages, but I didn't have the nerve to tell him then. He makes no qualms about letting me know he holds those wasted years against me. Isn't that sweet? We were recently, uh, reintroduced through a mutual friend, Mr. D. The meeting was, shall we say, memorable. Actually, it may have been "the best thing that has happened to (my) pussy since meeting Prince."

It was one of those times when happenstance seems to exist just to prove the presence of fate. And Mr. D was the a priori proof.

It was only a few weeks after Mr. D and I had started dating, if that's what you would call it, when Papi came through town for business. I knew they were acquainted but I didn't realize yet that they were friends of sorts. So when Mr. D told me in passing that he would be seeing Papi that weekend I confessed my crush and jokingly said he should bring him along on our date. Right then the ever scheming workings of Mr. D's dirty mind silently kicked into gear.

Mr. D was supposed to join Rob and his new girlfriend and me for a movie. But he bailed right beforehand. I was disappointed because I'd been looking forward to groping his crotch in the dark theater while sitting next to my very vanilla ex and the woman he left me for.

(As an aside, the last time we had joined them for a movie there was a moment my worlds collided and even I had to wonder at my seemingly inexplicable sexual transformation. During the film, a dorkie romance kinda thing that had me all mushy and starry eyed, I turned to my right and saw Rob resting his hand on new girlfriend's knee. Ah, how sweet, I thought. I recalled how that had made my own heart sing when it was my knee with his hand on it just a few weeks earlier. Then I turned to my left and smiled like a smitten school girl at Mr. D with his leather jacket, his Harley t-shirt, and his beautiful black buff biceps covered in old faded tattoos. Purrrrrrrr. He shot me a sly smile and his eyes twinkled trouble the way they do. Then he reached out his hand and pinched my nipple really hard. Ouch!... how sweet, I thought.)

When I got out of the movie there were three messages on my cell phone. The first was from Mr. D saying I should give him a call after the movie and maybe we could get together. The second was from Mr. D saying I should give him a call after the movie and that he was hanging out with his friend Papi. The third was from Mr. D saying I should give him a call after the movie, that he was hanging out with his friend Papi at his hotel, and maybe the three of us could hang out and party. It occured to me that party was a curious word to use since Mr. D is in recovery, and Papi never touched drugs or alcohol a day in his life. Not to mention that both men are old enough to be grandpas.

Naturally Mr. D , ever the handy man, had already greased the wheels. He swore up and down he didn't tell Papi about my long held attraction to him. But I knew he was lying. Apparently when Mr. D suggested to Papi that they "party" with me he (Papi) insisted that they should ask me first if I was even interested in fucking the two of them. Apparently Mr. D, being the non-scenester dom that he is, said I'll just tell her. I guess Papi was able to convince him that was not the way to approach these things and later that night gave him a little first hand coaching which I will describe shortly.

As I parked my car I saw Mr. D walking from his van to the hotel. He had a brown paper bag in one hand and his "overnight bag" in the other. My pussy started purring like one of Pavlov's dogs. I caught up with him and we rode up in the elevator together. He asked me if I was ready to party and I hesitated to answer, mostly because I was so taken with Papi and kinda intimidated by him at the same time. I told Mr. D that I felt shy and he coaxed me along like he does, not pushing too hard but not letting up either. He gets this sorta Wile E. Coyote kinda sneaky bouncy devilishness about him then that can charm me into anything, like grabbing hold of a falling anvil or dancing naked on a feather bed with a crate marked ACME EXPLOSIVES for a boxspring and a mattress filled with Elmer's glue.

Once inside the hotel room Mr. D reintroduced me to Papi. He was leaning back all regal like on the bed with his back against a large padded headboard. He's a stately man, but he looked smaller then I remembered him being engulfed by that gigantic king size bed. I could tell by the sharp look in his eye and the sugar in his voice, like the powerful sweetness of ice tea in Memphis, that he knew precisely how much I wanted him. Mr. D opened the paper bag and handed Papi a root beer, me a single serving thing of wine, and took a long-neck bottle of non-alcoholic beer for himself. Clearly they each knew exactly what they wanted as well.

Mr. D began telling a lewd joke that involved his crotch in my face and an attempt to get me to undo his trousers. I laughed nervously and shoved him off me. I made a mental note: if I was gonna fuck them then they were gonna make nice nice with me first. Mr. D sulked off to the arm chair on the other side of the bed and watched me impatiently while I tried to get to know Papi a bit more. Finally, I got up, walked around the foot of the bed to Mr. D, and sat myself on the floor at his feet. I love to sit at his feet. I let my hand rest high up on his inner thigh, right against his cock, and laid my head in his lap as I looked Papi in the eye and continued with our conversation.

As it turned out they hadn't eaten so I suggested we go out for a bite. I wanted them to really want me, and to have the energy to give me what I wanted in return. At the sports bar I flirted some with Papi while Mr. D stared over our heads at the game on the tele and the young co-eds with their pert plump breasts spilling out their tank tops at the table behind ours. Such poor social skills, that boy! After dinner, once Papi had convenietly gone to the bathroom, Mr. D said well, you wanna party with me and my friend Papi? I told Mr. D that I was still feeling shy. But I didn't say no. And knowing Mr. D that was probably one hair short of a green light. Which is what I think I meant anyways. I guess I wanted to be led by the whiskers a bit.

Back at the hotel lobby Papi checked his email while Mr. D and I made ourselves comfortable on a trendy chaise lounge. Mr. D leaned in close and whispered in my ear are you wet? I readily confessed I was. With Papi's back still to us and the two desk clerks momentarily absorbed with checking in a late night guest he said let me see as he reached his hand under my skirt and rubbed my pussy outside my tights. I loved how he hummed mmm hmmm as he did it. Then he took me by the wrist and led me over to Papi. Mr. D. went up to the room first under some silly pretense and I went up a minute later with Papi. We were awkward and quiet with each other in the elevator. I think I made small talk about something or other the way I do when I'm nervous.

When we got inside the room Mr. D was waiting for us, sitting at the desk chair and sipping his beer. There weren't many seating options as the huge bed took up most of the room. Papi laid down, again with his head against that weird padded headboard thing. I crawled across the expanse and laid myself next to him, pulling his arm around my waste and interlacing my fingers in his.

He leaned in close to me and said OK, if we're gonna do this, what are your limits?

I looked blankly at Mr. D. No one had ever asked me this so frankly. I was momentarily stumped. What were my limits? Mr. D was watching me intently, taking in our interaction.

It's all good, right Mr. D? I said.

He looked at me, grinned at Papi, and said yeah, she's good.

Papi insisted I explicate. So, to appease him, I said One, no rudeness. You two be nice to each other. And two, no bruises my clothes won't cover.

Papi seemed satisfied enough by my response and he got up and went into the bathroom.

As he shut the door behind him Mr. D stood up, walked over to the edge of the bed, grabbed my ankles and yanked me to him with one swift motion. His knee pushed up my denim skirt as he climbed on top of me. While Papi brushed his teeth Mr. D pulled my tights down to my calves and started grinding his hips against mine. I could feel his cock grow hard between us. He leaned in toward my face and growled into my ear I'm gonna leave this for my buddy as he fondled my pussy through my damp underwear.

When Papi came out of the bathroom Mr. D said in this frat boy voice why don't you take this girl's panties off? And then, bless my soul, my Papi did exactly that without a moment's pause... with his teeth!

The rest is sort of an all night blur of fucking. What stands out mostly sharply was how sincere my Papi was; how somehow his presence brought out a sweeter side of Mr. D that I deeply craved. He kissed me. He held me. He looked into my eyes; really looked into my eyes. And there was also so much really hard fucking that at times I didn't know if I could take it. Hard up the ass. Deep vaginal thrusting. Slapping. Choking. Hair pulling. Biting. Hard words like suck his cock, you cunt and open your legs wider bitch.

Papi went down on me with loud slurping sounds while his hands kneaded bruises into the inside of my thighs and Mr. D watched quietly in the dark from the arm chair.

Mr. D held my face and chided you're going to remember my boy each time you sit down tomorrow as Papi fucked me up the ass. Papi used my shoulders to brace himself and each time he thrust into me my head would smash into that whacky padded headboard. I was glad it was soft and I thought surely it was designed by someone who had once been in this very same position.

Papi pinned my arms to my sides, pried my legs apart by wrapping his own around mine, and kissed my neck, watching my face intently while Mr. D fucked me hard and made me cry out and thrash about.

In general I hate to be the center of attention under any circumstance. But something about being in the eye of the tornado, at the mercy of their combined desire, was different. It made me feel like it was ok to be the naked girl dancing on top of the bar with a lampshade on her head.

All the laughter and screaming and moaning and hair pulling and nipple tweaking and kissing and sucking and everything was just so surprisingly easy and uncomplicated and right. Well, except for just once.

It was about 4 a.m. in the morning and they both wanted to be inside me at the same time. So I sat myself astride Mr. D's cock and rode his bucking hips while Papi tried to fuck me up the ass. That was just too technical in our exhausted state and a bit too sensory overload and I eventually toppled over in a fit of giggles gasping oh my gosh, you guys are just too much!

Little did I know then that Papi would take that as a challenge to recreate those oh my gosh moments for a long time to come.

Each time we'd all collapse in a sort of sweet spent pile of sweat and lust and flesh someone would start to rub or suck me again and then we'd all be off once more like greyhounds at the track chasing the elusive bunny. That pretty much went on until 6 a.m. until Mr. D's wake up call came and I stumbled around in the dark trying to find my clothes. Papi invited me to stay and I seriously considered it... but then thought better of it just because (silly me) I didn't want to risk ruining what was a perfectly wonderful evening.

In the tiny bit of morning light that filtered through the heavy hotel drapes I climbed on top of Papi's big tummy and kissed him lightly on the forehead. He looked at me sleepily and said you're so beautiful. I mumbled something incoherent and looked away. But when I turned to him once more his gaze was still fixed on me and we smiled at each other. Thank you, I said. And there was a new feeling welling up inside me, so new it almost made me cry. It was the feeling of believing him.

In the elevator down I thought about our little party. There was something about the proximity of all of us together - naked, skin touching, watching fucking, smelling fucking, hearing fucking - that was way more powerful then any combination of two.

Like how when Mr. D would thrust his cock deep inside me and then I would grab Papi's hand and squeeze it really tight while I looked into his eyes that were locked onto the expression of raw desire on Mr. D's face which was taking us both in. It was like some wild variation of the telephone game that was nothing short of transcendental.

As Mr. D walked me to my car I swear to god he had a skip in his step and a smile on his face like the kid who just shared his most best plaything at show n tell. Right before we parted ways he said Miss Pussy, I know how much you like to be fucked. Are you happy now? I laughed and said I'm very happy Mr. D. Thank You!