And then there was one

Charles shook his head, bewildered by Simone’s odd conversation as she moved down the hall. Re-positioning himself, to peer down the corridor, he saw Elizabeth join Simone and together the two women walked toward the parlor. Simone touched the device in her hand and suddenly Charles could hear John’s voice. The 911 call was a trap! He wanted to yell and warn John but was too afraid he would get caught. Charles listened to every word as the women tricked John into revealing exactly where the boy was hiding. Fear gouged him in his belly, what if John told them where he was? What if the deacon’s bench had been compromised?

“So that’s where our little John is,” he heard Simone say, rising to her feet and tucking her cell phone into her pocket.

Elizabeth chuckled. “You up for another round?”

Another round of what

Simone giggled, “Always,” she answered as the two women strode passed.

Sliding out from under the bench, Charles glimpsed in the direction the woman had moved. He took a couple of steps but heard the sounds of the women returning. Like a deer in the headlights he froze, panic rooting his feet to the wooden floor.

Simone was holding something in front of her, big smile on her lovely face, Elizabeth looked on. It was John! She was holding John in her hand. He couldn’t hear what the other boy was saying, but the women seemed too engrossed in their capture to take note of the tiny motionless figure a few inches beside the deacon’s bench as they ascended the staircase.

Once they were gone, Charles collapsed to his knees, head in hands. Sniffling, he wiped his runny nose across his forearm.

What would Dustin do?

Wiping the tears from his eyes, he got to his feet, resolved not to quit.

Looking back down the hall from whence the women had come, he wondered where the hair tie was and why Dustin had wanted it. He knew where John had been hiding, so he made the decision to see if he could find the hair tie John had taken with him.

Moving cautiously down the hall to where John indicated he had hidden himself, Charles found the room, John’s pants lying half on and half off the bed.

How had he gotten up to the bed? He tried to see if he could use the rough denim material to try to get up but hit was like trying to climb the side of a canvas tent. He frowned. Moving around the room, he found the cord behind the night table and pondered. Like climbing the rope in gym class, he slowly pulled himself up and onto the table. Looking back, he grinned, filled with pride for his accomplishment.

Moving to the edge near the bed, he looked at the gap between the table and the bed and frowned. He was sure John was fleet enough of foot to vault the chasm, but Charles doubted his stubby legs would be able to generate enough speed for him to make it over. He was so close. He had come too far to turn back. It took him three attempts to muster the courage to actually attempt to jump across. On the third try he came up short, colliding with the edge of the bed, hands clutching for anything to prevent from falling. Managing to get enough material to hold on, he desperately grabbed at the fabric above and tried to pull himself up. Adrenalin pouring into his body like NOS into an engine, he drew himself up, panting and heaving at the effort to survive. He chuckled nervously. Padding over, he found John’s pocket and the hair tie, a paperclip on it. Holding them over his head, he let out a yell of triumph.

Pocket Pool

Stashed in the pocket of his own jeans lying on top of the bed, he could hear a creaking sound as the bedroom door opened slowly. He held his breath. There was no way the cops got here that fast, could they? He frowned. Suddenly his world was tossed around as the pants were lifted up off the bed and he fell into the bottom of his pocket.

A soft hand snaked in around him and pulled him free, holding him upside down by his legs, he twisted to see who had grabbed him. Elizabeth.

“There you are!” Simone said, leaning in close, smile on her face.

“Ha!” he shouted, “You’re too late, cops are already on their way, going to be here any minute!” he hollered.

Simone frowned, lower lip protruding as she shook her head. “Nope,” she said. “Sorry.”

John’s smile faltered as Elizabeth reoriented him in her grasp so he was upright. “But I called,” he said, an unpleasant feeling gnawing away at his stomach, undermining his confidence.

“And I answered sugar,” Simone replied, using the same voice as she had on the phone. “Did you say pocket?”

John’s heart sank and he wanted to yell and scream, but was too deflated.

“I don’t suppose Charles is down here hiding with you?” Elizabeth asked. “Hiding somewhere nearby perhaps?” She moved her head and took a brief cursory look around the room.

“I left Charles upstairs, near the bathroom, I don’t know where he would be by now, he was too slow for me and couldn’t keep up so I left him behind,” John replied, hoping he sounded convincing.

Placing her hand out toward Elizabeth, Simone received John and grinned. “I’ve been waiting to catch you John, and funny that you should use the word behind,” she said teasingly.

“What?” he asked, not comprehending her reference.

She nodded. “You’ll see,” she promised.

“Upstairs?” Elizabeth asked, glancing toward the door.

Simone held John close to her face and nodded slowly. “You are a bit of a Lothario aren’t you, I sense it now,” she said as she left the room.

“I don’t know what that means,” he replied.

“Fond of the ladies,” she answered.

He frowned.

“A use them and lose them kind of boy,” Elizabeth said with a tsk-tsk.

John swallowed hard, eyes narrowed, what the hell were they talking about? He tried to stay focus on Simone, he didn’t want his eyes to give anything away as they moved passed the deacon’s bench.

“Not quite as innocent as our little Dustin,” Simone said. “A trail of broken hearts in your wake.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said.

Both women laughed together, as if sharing some joke only they understood.

Once they were up in the master bedroom, Simone set John on top of the king sized bed. He immediately looked up toward the cages suspended on the stand, hoping to maybe catch a glimpse of Dustin.

Removing her clothes, Simone saw where John was looking. She grinned and pull out the elastic of her underpants, taking hold of Dustin and laying him on the bed,

John gasped, seeing her deposit the limp body of his friend further up the bed. Moving quickly across the bed, John knelt down beside Dustin, the smell of Simone’s sex clinging to the unconscious boy.

“Dustin!” he said, taking his friend by the shoulders.

“He’s all used up,” Elizabeth said, sliding her nude body onto her side of the bed, “For the moment.”

Simone brushed John back toward Elizabeth and picked Dustin up in her hand. Walking to the cages, she tilted her head forward and kissed his face, before placing him inside.

Turning, she sauntered back to the bed, hips swaying, “John, John, John, time to play,” she said, climbing onto the bed and moving toward him on hands and knees.

Her movement shook the mattress, knocking him from his feet. Leaning forward, she opened her mouth and took a hold of one of his legs with her lips, making a growling sound in her throat as she sucked him back into her mouth.

He screamed until he was pummeled by the movement of her tongue coating him in her saliva. For the next hour he was passed back and forth mouth to mouth as the women kissed, him powerless to fight against the power of their tongues. They took turns, cradling him with fingers and inserting him into each other, drenching him in the fluid of their pleasure. He anally inserted, abraded raw by friction as he was used and used again to deliver pleasure to each of the women. At one point, Simone and Elizabeth, while in a scissor position, each possessed a part of him inside their pussies, grinding against each other slowly. True to her word, Simone made sure to exact retribution for any girl he might ever have wronged.

When they were finished with him, John hung onto consciousness despite wishing for the kiss of oblivion. His stubborn body refusing to quit, just barely staving off darkness. Lodged firmly in Simone’s tight rosebud with only his head outside of her body, the sphincter of her anus firm around his neck trapping his entire body in the tight muscular channel of her ass. He feebly tried to move his arms but the force holding him was unrelenting, unyielding.

“Mmm, I think I’m spent for now,” murmured Simone, a blissful glow coloring her face as she rolled onto her side facing the door, knees pulled up.

Elizabeth came into view over the round of Simone’s ass cheek, she smiled. Leaning in close, she kissed John’s whole face, before closing her lips around the entirety of his head. He could feel her tongue swirling around his head and face as she coated him in saliva.

When she drew her lips back up and over his face, she laughed when she saw she had drawn his hair up and into a point.

Simone made a small noise and wiggled her butt a little.

Placing her index finger on the top of John’s head, Elizabeth pushed down, the crinkled bud grudgingly opening at the pressure and the saliva allowing him to slide right in before her hole closed back around him.

“Night, night, John,” she whispered, kissing the delicate little starfish before rolling on her side and cuddling with Simone.