Editor’s note: Meg’s accounts of the Memorial Day weekend begin here.
You have reached Jefferson. I am unable to take your call at this time. Please leave a message, and I will return your call when I am able.
Jefferson? It’s Meg. Hey, it’s late Saturday night, and I have decided to stay at a friend’s house. It’s closer to the bus station, so I will be in New York about an hour earlier tomorrow. So, cool . . . I look forward to seeing you then. The next couple of days should be fun!
Good news: more Meg!
Bad news: I didn’t get the message.
I was busy having sex with Bridget.
Our shopping excursion led to dinner, which led to sex, and the hour got late—you can blame my assembly of a nightstand, or you can blame the hour-long blowjob—so she slept over.
We woke up the next morning and started in with the sex again.
“I need you out of here by eleven,” I told her as we kissed.
“Next shift coming in?”
“Something like that,” I confessed. “Okay, something exactly like that.”
She laughed. “Fine. So you better boink me now.”
After a sound fucking, layers of biting and some serious g-spot yelping, Bridget was determined to make me cum.
She lay back on the pillows. “Up here, you,” she beckoned, pointing to her mouth.
I obliged, squatting on her chest and taking her hair in my hands.
She enjoys getting a nice mouth fuck as much as I enjoy delivering one.
I braced myself against the wall and let my hips undulate for her. Her eyes shifted from my eyes to my cock and back again.
“Okay . . . you ready?”
Her eyes said yes.
I pulled out and moaned her a pearl necklace.
We lay about for a while before it was time to get a move on. As she showered, I stripped the sheets and got laundry together. I had to put away all my loot and tidy up in advance of Meg’s arrival.
I joined Bridget at the end of her shower.
We were drying off when there was a knock at the door.
I walked to the door, naked and wet, and peeped through the keyhole.
“Hey Meg!” I shouted. “Just a second!”
“Is that . . . ?” Bridget asked.
“Yep. She’s early! Looks like you are going to meet my friend Meg.”
“Not naked I’m not!”
Bridget scurried to my room. I followed and put on shorts, pulling a t-shirt over my head as I walked back to the front door.
“Meg!” I kissed her. “You’re early!”
“You got my message?” She dropped her bag on the floor, kicking off her shoes.
“Well, I called to say . . . wait, we can work this out after I go to the bathroom.” She padded down the hall.
Meg returned from the bathroom and found me washing dishes in the kitchen.
“You know,” she whispered conspiratorially, “There is a naked woman in your bedroom.”
“I know,” I whispered. “You didn’t give me time to hide the bodies.”
“Oh! Well, should I stay or should I go?”
“Hello?” Bridget was in the living room.
We walked out to join her. “Hi. I’m Meg.” They shook hands.
“I’m Bridget. And I’m leaving . . . just getting my bag . . .”
“Take your time,” I said. “I’ve put on coffee.”
“No, I have to get going anyway. I have to meet up with my family.” She collected her things and said goodbye to Meg.
I took her to the door. We talked in the hall.
“Sorry about that,” I apologized. “She was early . . .”
“Shush. I’m glad to meet one of your girls.” She kissed me deeply. “She’s cute! But,” she chuckled, “I am still the chief concubine.”
“I’ll call you later,” she said. “Yesterday was fun. This morning was fun. And this was fun.”
“You won’t let me live this down, will you?”
“Not a chance. Have fun!”
I waved her off and closed the door.
I gave Meg a proper greeting.
Then I made her wait while I tidied in preparation of her arrival.