One | Two | Three | Four
Two weeks went by following the day where Jillian had secretly fed Joel’s cum to her wife, and Jillian began to convince herself that her flirtation with cheating and betrayal had never happened. Brielle was cheerful and pretty and energetic, and Jillian remembered why she had fallen in love with this pretty lesbian in the first place. She responded to her wife with happiness and affection, and those two weeks were filled with something very much like domestic bliss.
And yet, Jillian got into the habit of taking playful photographs of her wife whenever Brielle was naked, and leaving he phone filming whenever the two women had sex. Brielle thought it was Jillian’s playful new kink, and leaned into it, pouting and blowing kisses for the camera, and telling it that she was Jillian’s sexy little slut.
Jillian didn’t let herself think about why she was doing it. She certainly wasn’t going to betray Jillian again. After all, Joel had sent her three messages since her last visit to him, and she had ignored all of them. Each had been relatively brief – “More pics?” said one; “Does Brielle need more to eat?” said another; and “Come visit” said the third. Jillian blushed when she thought about them – and whenever she remembered what she had done, and shared with Joel. She was certain that she wouldn’t do it again.
But the difficulties returned when Brielle returned home one evening with a look on her face that Jillian immediately interpreted as “guilt”. Brielle was ashamed of something – and worried about how Jillian would react.
“What’s up?” asked Jillian.
“So… I got a new job,” said Brielle, blushing and looking down.
“A new job? Better than the supermarket?” asked Jillian.
“It pays, like, twice as much,” said Brielle.
Jillian waited for the other shoe to drop – and after a brief pause, it did.
“It’s at the church,” admitted Brielle.
“With Pastor George?” asked Jillian, in a flat, unimpressed voice. “That homophobic fuckhead?”
Brielle winced. “Don’t call him that,” she said. “He does so much good work for the community.”
“What’s the job?” asked Jillian.
“Administrative work in the church offices,” said Brielle. “Filing, accounts, answering phones, things like that.”
“So a secretary, then,” said Jillian. She filled the word “secretary” with scorn.
“I suppose,” said Brielle. “But it’s good money, Jillian. Seriously, twice as much as a supermarket cashier, and more regular hours..”
It was hard to argue with that. Brielle may not pay attention to the household finances, but Jillian knew their debt was growing with every week, and rent was due again soon, and Jillian didn’t have the money to pay it. If something didn’t change, the girls would face eviction – or worse. More money coming in from Brielle would really make a difference.
“Fine,” said Jillian. “You can go work for the homophobe.” She sighed, and tried to stop sounding so bitchy. “Congratulations, I guess,” she added.
Brielle bit her lip – which looked devastatingly cute, even though Jillian knew it meant more bad news was coming. “There *is* one other thing…” she said.
Jillian narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“The pastor and his wife are coming around for dinner tomorrow,” said Brielle. “We’re hosting them. And it needs to go well for me to get the job.”
“Why wouldn’t it go well?” asked Jillian.
“Well, you need to – well, not be a bitch to them,” said Brielle.
Jillian used her sweetest you’re-walking-on-thin-ice voice. “And why would I be a bitch to them?”
“They kind of think we’re… trying to go straight,” said Brielle.
Jillian felt her stomach turn. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“After the church camp,” said Brielle, “they may have got the impression that we’re trying to stop being lesbians, and we’re in the market to date men.”
“And why would they possibly think that, Brielle?” asked Jillian.
Brielle said nothing, just looked down at the floor. She didn’t have to say anything. Jillian knew. Brielle had told the pastor that that was the case – or at least implied it. The church hated that Brielle was a lesbian – and Brielle had played along in order to fit in.
“You self-hating cunt,” hissed Jillian. “I can’t believe you’d do this.”
“Please,” said Brielle, tears in her eyes. “It’s not real. I’m still a lesbian. You just have to pretend for a night.”
“Fuck you,” spat Jillian. She turned away, feeling like she might cry as well, and not wanting Brielle to see.
“Please,” begged Brielle again.
“I’ll do it,” said Jillian. “I’ll do your disgusting fucking dinner. But I’m going out tonight. You can sleep alone. I’ll stay at Joel’s. And after the dinner is over… you’ll owe me. Understand?”
“Yes,” said Brielle quietly.
And that was the last that was said of it. Jillian took her phone and left.
She was making a habit of showing up at Joel’s door unannounced, but once again he gave her the welcome she wanted. He greeted her with a hug, and held her as she burst into tears and babbled about her wife’s betrayal, and the homophobic church, and the household debt. He stroked her hair as she rested her head against his chest, and when her flow of words finally dried up he leaned down and kissed her softly on her forehead.
“I thought you’d come over eventually,’ he told her, “so there’s some new clothes ready for you in the upstairs bedroom. Why don’t you go have a shower and get changed?”
She agreed gratefully, and headed upstairs. The shower was warm and luxurious, and Jillian took the opportunity to revel in the relaxing water, and even finger her pussy a little. It felt nice to be sexy here. It felt safe to just have a little buzz of arousal.
When she emerged from the shower she discovered the “new clothes” were as beautiful – and expensive – as the last outfit Joel had dressed her in. This time it was a smooth white dress with a plunging neckline. It showed much of the top and sides of her breasts, but still looked effortlessly classy. There was no bra – the better to show off her cleavage – but there *was* a pair of white satin panties, along with a pair of white high heels and – she gasped – a pair of diamond earrings that must have cost more than Jillian earned in three months.
When she was dressed, she looked at herself in a mirror, and was delighted by what she saw. She looked sexy. She looked fuckable. And she looked *expensive*.
Joel’s reaction when she came downstairs was everything she could have hoped for. When he saw her, he audibly gasped, and blushed a little, and – yes, there it was: a tent in his pants. She had given him an erection, the most potent and honest appreciation of her appearance that a girl might want.
He sat on the couch, in the same spot he had been in on Jillian’s last visit, and without being asked, Jillian came and knelt at his feet.
“Good girl,” said Joel softly, and Jillian felt herself flush with pleasure. What was he approving of? Her dress? Her position at his feet? Both? She didn’t care – she just liked the approval.
“I like it here,” said Jillian softly, and she didn’t know if she meant visiting his house or kneeling at his feet. Or both. But Joel just nodded, and reached out and stroked her hair, and it made her flush with happiness.
‘Is there something you want to show me, Jillian?” he asked.
She picked up her phone. “Same deal as before?” she asked. “Three pictures for five hundred dollars?”
Joel chuckled. “I think after your fight with Brielle that maybe you *want* to show me these pictures. Maybe I should charge *you* for the opportunity to show them to me.”
Jillian blushed, and demurred. “No,” she said. “I thought – I mean…”
“Fifty dollars a picture,” said Joel. “Up to a maximum of ten pictures. How does that sound?”
Jillian had to think. It was a sharp decrease in the price per picture – but at the same time, it seemed fair. Joel had already seen Brielle naked. He already had a small library of pornography featuring Jillian’s wife. Adding more to it wasn’t really anything new. It made sense that each new photo would command a smaller price. And anyway, it still involved Jillian leaving with the same five hundred dollars.
“All right,” she said. She looked through her phone and quickly selected a set of ten photos and videos, and forwarded them to Joel.
Joel looked at his phone, and his face reddened with appreciation. She saw his cock twitch in his pants, and his hand went to it instinctively, before jerking away in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t mean to be gross. It’s just… the pictures are hot…”
Jillian looked up at his face. It was cute, in a way, that this man she had known for so long – who these days was so much richer and more powerful than her – should be so embarrassed by his natural reaction to a picture of a naked woman. How could she blame him for being turned on by the exact same tits and cunt that had made her own pussy get wet on so many occasions?
She smiled, and bit her lip – and then made up her mind to do something. Something that, if she gave herself time to think about it, she knew she would think was slutty, and more than a little problematic. She didn’t care. She wanted to make Joel happy. She wanted him to smile at her, and call her a good girl. And it cost her so very little.
She reached out and put a hand over his groin, feeling his erection twitch against her hand through the fabric of Joel’s trousers. Then, carefully, she pulled down the zipper on his fly, reached in, and teased aside the cotton of his underwear. The fleshy pink-tinged skin of his cock came into view, and she reached in again and took hold of it, bringing it out of his pants and into view.
Joel gasped with lust and need as she touched his cock. She marvelled at how warm it felt, how soft on the outside and yet firm and pulsing with arousal. There was a little gleaming droplet of pre-cum on the tip which hypnotised her briefly.
She turned to the side table, and found a condom from the same packet as she used on her last visit. Eagerly, she ripped open the condom packet and withdrew the lubricated latex ring from inside – and then began to roll it down over Joel’s erect cock.
“Jillian, you don’t have to…” began Joel.
“Ssh,” said Jillian, smiling. “I want to.” And when the condom was on, she began to slowly stroke and pump Joel’s cock with her hand, while looking up at his face. She had never given a man a handjob before. She had thought she never would. She hoped she was doing it well. She really wanted to make Joel happy.
But also, deep down, she knew how much seeing this would hurt Brielle, and how betrayed and violated she would feel if she could see Jillian jerking off a man while he looked at Brielle’s nude body. And, right now, in her anger, she liked that too.
“Tell me about the pictures,” said Joel, and tilted his mobile phone so she could see what she had sent him.
The first one was a video, and one that Joel had seen before. But he appeared to be getting extra enjoyment seeing it again, now, with Jillian’s hand on his cock.
Brielle’s voice on the video said, “I’m your pretty little slut.”
“That’s Brielle, naked in bed after fucking me,” said Jillian, “and she’s eating yoghurt that has your cum mixed into it. She has no idea that she’s eating your cum.”
Joel groaned, and slid down slightly in his chair, pushing his lap out to give Jillian easier access to his cock. He flipped to the next photo, and showed her.
“That’s Brielle sitting naked on the toilet and pissing,” said Jillian. “She squealed so loud when she saw me taking that one. She made me promise to delete it off my phone – but I didn’t.” She blushed, and then added, “Because I thought you might like it.”
“I do,” said Joel, smiling at her. “Good girl.”
Jillian couldn’t help but gasp out loud at those words. She was suddenly aware that her pussy was wet – throbbingly, distractingly wet.
Joel skipped to the next image. And one by one, Jillian explained the photos, while masturbating Joel’s cock.
“That’s Brielle trying on lingerie before going out to dinner.”
“That’s Brielle asleep naked in bed with her legs spread.”
“That’s Brielle washing herself in the shower.”
“That’s Brielle putting on makeup while she’s still topless.”
“That’s Brielle flashing me her pussy in our back garden.”
“That’s Brielle smiling after… after she’s just finished licking my pussy.” (Jillian blushed.)
“That’s Brielle naked in the kitchen getting a snack to take back to bed.”
And then the last video.
“This is Brielle getting dressed to go to work,” said Jillian.
Together they watched Brielle go from naked to dressed as she put on her work uniform for the supermarket. The camera was positioned on the bedside table, with no one holding it. Jillian pumped Joel’s cock as Brielle finished dressing, and then walked off-screen.
They heard Brielle talk to Jillian. “I’m going now!”
And then Jillian’s reply, “Have a good time at work, honey.”
And then the opening and closing of a distant door.
And the video kept playing.
Suddenly Jillian’s eyes widened. “Stop it there,” she said.
She had stopped stroking Joel’s cock in her sudden alarm. Joel put his hand on her hand and, obediently, she began to pump again. But she was looking up at him in horror.
“What’s the matter?” asked Joel. He did not stop the video.
“I forgot to turn off the recording or edit it,” said Jillian. “Please, stop.”
But he didn’t stop – and a moment later it became clear why Jillian was so alarmed, and Jillian herself wandered into the frame of the video – completely nude, fresh from the shower.
Joel’s cock twitched violently in Jillian’s hand as the video gave a clear view of Jillian’s naked tits and shaved pussy.
“Please,” begged Jillian. But she was still masturbating Joel’s cock as she knelt at his feet.
“Are you sure you didn’t send me this deliberately?” joked Joel, showing no sign of stopping the video.
On the screen, Jillian climbed up on the bed, and sat against the wall, with her legs spread, facing the phone. She didn’t seem to be aware the phone was there, or remember that it was recording. Instead, she let her fingers drift between her things, and begin casually massaging her pussy.
The real-life Jillian moaned – and began pumping Joel’s cock even faster.
Joel looked down at her. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” he told her. “You have absolutely fantastic tits – and a first class pussy.”
Jillian turned bright red, with a mixture of complete humiliation… and pleasure from the praise. She kept pumping Joel’s cock.
“Thank you,” she said… and then, compelled by something deep inside her, she added, “sir.”
Together they watched the Jillian on the screen masturbate. Her casual touches of her pussy quickly turned into an insistent rubbing, broken by sessions of pushing her fingers up inside her fuckhole, and sporadic vicious pinching of her clitoris. Her free hand began to squeeze and grope at her tits, and she started to moan loudly and whorishly.
The real Jillian whimpered in humiliation, even as Joel began to audibly gasp and moan.
And then the Jillian on the screen did what Jillian had known she would. She began to speak – quietly, in a moaning, sluttish voice, but perfectly audible to the camera.
“Joel,” she moaned. “Joel. Joel.” And then, “Rape her. Fuck. Rape her. Rape my wife. Cum inside her. Rape her.”
Joel’s whole body had gone tense. HIs free hand came down and gripped a handful of Jillian’s hair – hard – and Jillian couldn’t even pretend that it didn’t feel good to be held and controlled by him. His eyes were glued on the screen, and his hips were bucking instinctively, uncontrollably against her hand as she pumped his cock.
“Rape her. Rape her,” moaned the Jillian on the screen. And then, finally, “Rape me. Rape me. Rape us both.”
And with that, the Jillian on the screen orgasmed – and Joel responded with his own orgasm. Jillian felt his cock twitch and pulse in her hand, and then the bubble at the tip of the condom was suddenly inflating with white, milky cum.
Joel looked down at Jillian in amazement, and she smiled up at him, bashful and humiliated but pleased to have made him cum.
She expected him to say something about what she had said on the video – to ask her about it – but he said nothing. He just looked at her and smiled.
Carefully, she pulled the condom off his cock, and then tied a knot in the end to trap the precious cum inside. She looked at his dick, still hard and smeared all over with cum, and before she could think about it, she leaned forward and took it into her mouth. It was warm and sticky and salty, and she quickly sucked at the cum covering the foreskin, and licked at the tip with her tongue. She felt him squirt a little additional dose of sperm in response to her actions, and she swallowed it instinctively and automatically.
And then she withdrew. His cock was clean, and Jillian was kneeling, looking up at Joel for approval and validation.
He did not withhold it. “Good girl,” he sighed. “*Very* good girl.”
“Are you… are you going to keep that last video?” asked Jillian quietly, after a few moments.
“Do you really want me to delete it?” said Joel. “I won’t keep it if you’re uncomfortable with it. Just say, ‘Delete the video, please.’” And then he paused, and smiled, and corrected himself. “Delete the video, please, *sir*.”
Jillian’s whole face went red. She was silent. Joel looked at her.
Finally, she said, “No, you can keep it.” And a pause again, and then, “Sir.”
“You know I’m going to masturbate to it again?” he said. “Masturbate to watching you?”
That should have humiliated her – and it did, she supposed – but it also felt good. A part of her had begun to feel jealous of his interest in Brielle. But tonight it hadn’t been Brielle who made him cum. It had been her – her hand on his cock, and her pussy on his screen.
So what she said was, “How soon?”
He was confused. “What do you mean?”
She didn’t trust herself to make eye contact. But she said, “How soon can you cum again, sir? Can you do it tonight?”
“Why?” asked Joel, baffled.
“Because…” She stopped, and marshalled her thoughts. Was she really going to say this? Propose this?
Apparently she was.
“Because my bitch fake-lesbian wife is hosting dinner tomorrow,” she said. “And I think she deserves to eat a lot more than just one condom full of cum…”
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3 thoughts on “Story: Selling Brielle, Part 5”
Loving this story!