Inspiration

Fiction inspiration comes from the damnedest places.... there I was, innocent as always (oh stop laughing), having a completely innocent (I said, stop laughing dammit) conversation with the Southern Gentleman, and boom - there was it. An idea that I hadn't really ever toyed with, but that sounded way too delicious not to write. So much so, that it went above all the others on my list.

When it hits, it must be written, despite the fact that I'm two margaritas into the evening....

I'm still writing, but this was too much fun not to share a bite....

I moaned at her, reaching for her head, but she pulled away and looked at you. “How many of your fingers does she take?” she asked you.
You cleared your throat and then answered softly. “Two mostly.”
“She’ll take three of mine.” She said confidently before burying her face in my cunt.
She was right; I took three as she sucked my clit hard. After my first orgasm, I stretched my arms above my head and found your leg. I rubbed your thigh softly as she continued to eat me, slowly twisting her fingers inside me, pushing me to cum on them again.
“Bitch.” That wasn’t Connie; that was you this time. As I started to come down off my second orgasm, I turned my head to look at you.
“What’s the matter, baby? Isn’t this what you wanted?”
“You know what I want.”
Connie pulled her head up and rested it on my thigh, stroking my hip. “He wants to fuck.”
“He does, I’m sure.” I agreed. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes.”
“Question is though…” I reached down and stroked Connie’s hair. “Who does he want to fuck?”
You stared at me and didn’t answer.
“He wants to fuck us both.” Connie said.
“I think you’re right.” I sat up and leaned down to kiss her. “Thing is, he’s not really in a position to fuck either of us.”
You growled loudly at me.
“No, he’s not. But we could fuck him.”
I nodded. “We’re going to have to, I think.”