Chapter 2 – Chapter 2

Charlotte was stunned. "Excuse me? What did you say?"

"I said I wanted you to meet my brother, Sean," Stacy said. She and a priest met Charlotte at the front door to the wedding chapel. She'd been there for some time preparing for the rehearsal, with a waterfront restaurant dinner to follow, and Charlotte had been given a ride to the chapel by Ian. "Sean's an Episcopal priest. He's going to be performing the ceremony."

"Hello," the priest said in a smooth baritone. "Stacy has told me a lot about you. So has Ian. I feel like I already know you."

The voice was mesmerizing, the face was movie-star handsome, the body was athletic muscular. Not at all what Charlotte would expect of an Episcopal priest. But then she would not have expected to see a priest fucking his sister and being fucked by his future brother-in-law either, and this, without a doubt, was the auburn-haired hunk Charlotte had seen in Stacy's bed that morning. In his silky black shirt and trousers and the white priest's collar, though, Charlotte didn't think it was a joke that he was being introduced as an Episcopal minister. If so, it was one elaborate joke.

The way he'd said he'd been told about her and had been looking forward to meeting her, though, made her tremble. What might be a benign countenance to others was his eyes undressing her and humping her in terms of what she'd seen earlier.

And some part of her body wanted that.

She barely heard the instruction he was giving on what would happen when they all sat in the pews at the front of the chapel and went over the ceremony. It was a good thing she'd been through this several times. Strangely enough, framed by what she'd seen that morning between sister and brother, Charlotte's thoughts had gone to her own two brothers, one a year and a half older than she was and one two years younger. Could she see herself lying under either one of them. They both were handsome and athletic—and she knew they were sexually active.

She was stretched out on top of him—Ian?—on the bed, her back pinned to his chest, his arms around her, his hands squeezing her breasts. Her back was arched and her buttocks drawn up to give his cock a straight angle deep into her anal passage. But it wasn't just the two of them. Her legs were hooked on the shoulders of the man kneeling between her thighs, working her clit and cunt with his mouth, gliding his hands up her belly to meet with the hands of the other man in squeezing her breasts and working her nipples. She was close to an explosion when the man between her thighs moved his hands to her ankles, spread and raised her legs, and, standing and crouching over her torso, thrust deep inside her, splitting her puffy labia, and began to pump. Daniel, her older brother. It couldn't be, but turning her head, her lips being captured by the man under her, the man whose cock was pumping her anal passage, she saw the face of younger brother David. She writhed in pleasure at the intimate attention of her two magnificently equipped brothers.

"As the only female attendant, you will leading the procession, Charlotte. Ian and the best man will already be in place and I will signal . . . Charlotte, are you with us?"

"Yes, of course," Charlotte answered Sean, who was giving her an amused look. She wondered if he could see her blushing. "You, Ian, and Curt, the best man, enter and take up position, and at your direction, I start down the aisle."

"Good," Sean said, amused. "I'm sure you take direction very well."

She blushed deeper. Was she the only one who thought this luscious-looking priest spoke in purposeful double entendres? What exactly had Stacy—and, especially, Ian—said about Charlotte to this brother, a priest, who had fucked his sister and been fucked by his brother-in-law this morning. Had Sean smelled the sex of Charlotte on Ian when Ian had come to the bed?

And what had she been thinking about her own brothers? Why did it not sound new and deeply shocking to her? She had seen their naked bodies before, of course. She saw how well hung and muscular they were. Was she telling herself she'd never thought of them in a sexual way before? She was no prude. She fucked on the first date if she liked the guy.

Well, of course she had. And even now she conjured up in her mind the last image she'd seen of the threesome that morning—Sean thrusting in long, thick stabs inside Stacy, pulling out to the bulb before thrusting again. And Ian on Sean's back, doing the same thing in Ian's anus. Barebacking—yet something else that was a taboo on the East Coast. Would Stacy now be pregnant if she'd remained on the East Coast?

Charlotte looked up. Everyone was looking at her. Sean's look was a knowing smile—like he knew exactly what she'd been thinking.

"Excuse me?" she said. "Did you ask me a question?"

"I was saying it's time for us to take our places for the rehearsal."

"Oh."

The rehearsal went fine, as did the rehearsal dinner afterward other than that embarrassing moment—for Charlotte, at least—when she went down the wrong hallway and spied the best man, Curt, fucking Stacy up against a shadowed, cinderblock wall, Curt's trousers and briefs down around his ankles, Stacy's skirt hiked up, and her knees hugging his hips, Stacy thrusting her pelvis forward to meet the thrusts of his hard cock.

Curt, one of the pilots Ian worked with, was yet another hunk of a man who Charlotte had met within the last twenty-four hours. And he was a very direct one. He'd already propositioned Charlotte with the novel introduction line of, "Ian tells me you take it in the ass and are an A1 lay."

Was this a regional difference between the West Coast and East Coast, Charlotte wondered. Were they all this direct and bald here? It, of course, shocked her and encouraged her to make a beeline to the airport. But it also kept bringing into her mind the commercial phrase, "What plays in Vegas stays in Vegas," and made her wonder if the same "whatever" attitude went all the way to the coast from Vegas. There was a part of her that felt alive in a way she hadn't felt before—and carefree—and honest with her emotions.

Yes, she had wanted Ian to fuck her in the ass again. She'd known that before she came here. Yes she'd like Sean to fuck her—even if he was fucking his sister. That was their problem, not Charlotte's. And, yes, if she knew a bit more about Curt, she'd like him to fuck her too. He was a great looking guy, and even if he was macho forward in his approaches and dropped the F word every third word, she could just ask him to shut up while he was fucking her.

And if she could get past the taboo involved, she could see both of her brothers fucking her. She'd already imagined them taking her together.

She did sort of think that Ian and Stacy were making a mistake going into a wide-open marriage like this—and on the strength of Stacy being pregnant. Charlotte could worry about the child—or children—of such a marriage. The grandparents wanted them. Although it was cynical, Charlotte could understand Ian wanting to get at his family's wealth. But would the grandparents take care of the children Stacy had?

It wasn't her problem. She was at the rehearsal dinner, sitting across from the Episcopal priest, Sean, who was fucking his sister and also was giving Charlotte bedroom eyes and continuing to speak to her in double entendres. And watching to see if she caught them, and, if so, whether she found them off-putting.

Yes, she understood them. No, in her current mood—she was randy and getting randier by the minute—she didn't find them off putting. And she let him know she didn't.

Whatever plays in Los Angeles stays in Los Angeles, she thought. Or maybe not. She couldn't think of her own two brothers the same way ever again. Had there been any sign from either of them of interest in a bit of incest? She couldn't be sure. David was awfully touchy feely now that she thought of it. And what would she do if she saw the signs of interest?

She had no idea. She would think about that if the signs seemed to be there when she saw them again. And, as shocking as it was, she wouldn't dismiss the possibility out of hand. They were all adults. Neither of her brothers was married and she wasn't either. Was this a sign they were waiting for each other—for one of the others to make a move? She didn't know.

"I think I've been left to drive you home," Sean was saying when Charlotte's thoughts came back down to earth.

"Ian and Stacy?"

"They've already left. Stacy wanted to walk the beach on this, her last evening of freedom."

Charlotte nearly snorted her champagne at this suggestion—that Stacy would, in any way, see marriage as a limit to her sexual freedom. She did laugh, and Sean, obviously catching on, laughed too.

"Is the baby yours, Sean?" Charlotte suddenly asked.

"It could be. It probably is," Sean answered directly, not missing a beat. He obviously thought that Charlotte was one of them—in proclivities as well. Well, what plays in Los Angeles stays in Los Angeles. "It's really a great favor Ian is doing us. Yes, I know it's his way of getting more money from his parents. But it saves Stacy and me. I do take my religion seriously. I do see the baby as already living and deserving a chance at life. Stacy does too. And I don't shirk from responsibility if the baby is mine. But can you imagine my position for it to be known I had fathered a child on my sister? And she would be raked over the coals as well."

"Well, society, you know."

"I do know, but I don't agree. We're both consenting adults. We're not harming anyone else. Ian is good with it. It serves his purposes too. Episcopal priests aren't enjoined from having sex—or getting married."

"But you can't marry Stacy."

"No, and I wouldn't even if I could. There's no tying Stacy down. Do you know what she was doing with the best man, Curt, while they were gone from the table?"

"As a matter of fact, I do know," Charlotte said. "I took the wrong turn to the powder room. And you don't mind?"

"It's a physical attraction between us, not a deeper form of love. It's a sexual attraction that neither one of us can deny. I don't want to possess her."

"There is someone who might be hurt—the baby. I don't see motherhood in Stacy or fatherhood in Ian."

"We've figured that out already. The baby will be mainly raised by Gordon and me. I think we'll do fine. With the hectic flight schedules both Stacy and Ian have, people will understand me offering the grounding, the day-to-day stability, for the child."

"Gordon?"

"Yes. Gordon and I live together. He's the other Episcopal priest in our church. Older, but we are of like minds and disposition."

"You both go with men too? With each other?"

"Yes, with each other. And men, but women too. Both of us. We share. We're adults. What others see as taboos we accept. It doesn't get in the way of our work."

"This Gordon . . ."

"I think you would like him. In fact, I know you would. I've watched you. Your eyes have followed every well-built man who has passed you by. I've seen where your eyes have strayed. Gordon's in his forties, but I assure you that he is very expert—and he's built big. Ian has told me what you and he did—what you like. Gordon's your man for that."

Ian seemed a little presumptuous about what she liked, but she couldn't deny, now that he'd fucked her anally again, that she had missed it. "And you?" Charlotte asked, feeling free and carefree.

"Ask Stacy."

"I have already," Charlotte said. And, indeed, there was time while they were dressing this afternoon for Charlotte to go over all of this with Stacy—to try to settle in her mind Stacy's choices. Stacy hadn't been the least apologetic about the choices she made.

"He's a big-cocked man and gives me multiple ejaculations," she'd said. "And if you're interested, you should know that he saw you in your nighty this morning, has already talked with Ian—yes, yes, I know about you and Ian. I've always known. I don't care. And Sean says he'd like to fuck you too. And I don't care about that, if you don't. I don't care about any of it. I believe in getting your jollies wherever, with whom ever, and as long as ever as possible. I recognize no taboos in getting pleasure from sex."

"I could take you back to Stacy's apartment," Sean said, "or I couldn't drive you to my home and introduce you to Gordon. We could show you a version of heaven you've never imagined before. Which would you prefer?"

* * * *

"Sorry, I can't wait," Sean muttered, as he drove over to a dark corner of the restaurant parking lot rather than to the exit.

"I can't either," Charlotte murmured, as she reached over and unzipped his trousers. He already was unzipping the back of her dress and pushing the bodice down to her waist. She wasn't wearing a bra.

"Backseat," he growled when he'd pulled his mouth away from her nipples.

He remained fully garbed in his Episcopal black and his white collar, only his fly open and his mammoth cock erect, while Charlotte was completely naked. Being raised and lowered on a priest's cock—being barebacked—in the back of his car while she was completely exposed to him added to the thrill of the fuck and to the multiple orgasms he gave her before he drowned her depths with his cum.

Stacy had been spot on concerning his proficiency.

* * * *

Charlotte had, in fact, imagined this form of heaven—and just earlier in the evening. But the reality was far more heavenly than the imagination.

She was stretched out on top of solidly built and muscular Gordon on the bed, her back pinned to his chest, his arms around her, his hands squeezing her breasts. Her back was arched to give his cock a straight angle deep into her anal passage. Her legs were hooked on Sean's shoulders as he knelt between her thighs at the foot of the bed, working her clit and cunt with his mouth, gliding his hands up her belly to meet with Gordon's hands in squeezing her breasts and working her nipples.

Both men were garbed in their Episcopal black, with white collars. Charlotte was naked. Neither wore a condom, the lack of which was yet another taboo being shattered in her world on this day, as Ian hadn't been sheathed either when he took her in the ass at sunrise, nor was Sean in the backseat of his car. She was close to an explosion when Sean moved his hands to her ankles, spread and raised her legs, and, standing and crouching over her torso, thrust deep inside her and began to pump. As he pumped he leaned over and took her mouth in his. After a deep kiss, he moved his face over her shoulder for a shared kiss with Gordon. She writhed in pleasure at the intimate attention of her two magnificently equipped priests.

Ian and Stacy were sitting in the living room of the apartment, drinking cocktails, when Sean brought Charlotte home.

"Did you and Gordon have a good time?" Stacy asked. Charlotte looked at her friend to see if there was any evidence of a smirk on her face. But there wasn't. Stacy seemed to be genuinely interested in how it went. There didn't seem to be any question in her that it went, however.

"Yes, we did," Sean answered.

"And you, Charlotte? Did you enjoyed the attentions of the Sean and Gordon?"

"Yes," Charlotte answered Ian's question, almost defiantly. No harm was done. It seemed so natural here on the West Coast. None of the taboos she'd heard whispered about were being seen as taboo here. In fact, on the ride home all she could think about were her brothers, Daniel and David, and what the possibilities there might be.

"Charlotte likes ass play," Ian said. "Which of you—?"

"Both Gordon and I," Sean quickly answered. "Both ways—separately and together—before we were done. And I think—"

"Yes, I did like it," Charlotte said, letting it all out and slightly perturbed that the two men were talking about her with her standing right here—and she did like an ass fuck as long as the guy made good use of his fingers as well, which Ian, Sean, and Gordon all had done. What plays in Los Angeles stays in Los Angeles.

"But you're still flying home tomorrow night?" From Stacy's lips, it was both a question and an offer.

"Yes, I have to be back at work on Monday."

"Well, this is our last night as singles, Stacy and me," Ian said, as he stood. "Shall we?"

"Yes, why not?" Sean said. He offered his hand to Stacy, who stood and followed him. She stopped and turned at the entrance into the bedroom hall, though.

"Oh, I forgot to mention, Charlotte—"

"Shh, let it be a surprise," Ian said, as he turned Stacy toward the master bedroom. They didn't bother to shut the door.

After they'd gone, Ian offered his hand to Charlotte. Without hesitation, she let him guide her into the guest room, bend her over the bed, pull down her panties, hike the hem of her skirt up to her waist, push his hard cock between her ass cheeks, and thrust.

It was only then that Charlotte noticed that the best man, Curt, was in the bedroom, sitting in a chair, dressed only in his briefs. It was obvious what he was there for.

Well, why the hell not? Charlotte thought, as Curt rose from the chair and moved toward her and Ian.