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The Thought of It 2
🕑 Added 2023-07-29 17:00:02 +0000 UTCA/N: This CYOA is going to be somewhat different from past ones, where the readers directly controlled the outcome. Here, I’m working from a firm outline. The storyline is set. What can change is whose perspective each chapter is told from. Whoever you vote for, the next installment will be set in their POV.
Having dismissed the three women—and feeling an inordinate amount of pride at having successfully corralled all three of them—Scott quickly wrapped up whatever niggling work he had on his docket to fully clear his mind.
He knew it was odd of him to think of sending e-mails and grading papers when three separate beauties were about to compete over him, but he’d long ago accepted that this was how he was wired. And now that he’d briskly resolved those little issues, he could give Emma, Jean, and Betsy all the attention they deserved.
Maybe with that, and an opportunity to get all their rivalry out of their system, things could finally settle down enough to—
It was only as Scott shut his laptop that he realized Jean had returned, letting herself in while he was bogged down in work. She sat on the couch, dressed as the cheerleader she once had been.
“Welcome back, Scott,” she cooed, her little blue skirt with inverted white pleats riding high on her supple thighs. “You like it? Just a little something I picked up to make celebrating our reunion a real special occasion.”
Scott did like it. The way the thin cotton hem of her skirt seemed constantly about to touch her groin. Her tight white sweater had a blue X on the shoulder and blue stripes going down the sleeves. Her full breasts bulged it out lasciviously at the chest. Her legs were crossed, legs looking like deadly weapons in her red knee socks and white Keds.
Jean worked her crossed leg a little higher into her lap, letting Scott see under her skirt—making him gawk at her shiny panties, the same pearlescent shade of white as her pleats, so Scott was never quite sure if he was really seeing her lightly covered sex or just one of the little pigments hanging off her skirt. It tantalized him in a way that simply viewing her couldn’t; he stared longingly, trying to make out whether he was seeing her shiny, satin cunt or not.
“It’s very nice, Jean,” he admitted. “And I appreciate your punctuality.”
Jean smiled. “Why waste time?” she asked. “And now that I’m here, what’s say we get started proving that I’m your ideal mate? I can think of several old favorites—I’m sure Emma’s tried her hand at a few of them—maybe even Betts—but I can prove to you that no one does it better than—”
“That is the issue with a rush-job,” Emma said, barging through the door. “When you don’t make your man wait, it’s because you don’t have anything worth waiting for.”
Jean made an exaggerated look of surprise, glancing at Emma. “Emma, you’re wearing clothes! I’m shocked! I thought for sure you’d spend the whole time finding the right pair of heels to strut around naked in.”
“Don’t be silly, Jean, I already know which heels those are.”
Emma was hardly as underdressed as one might’ve expected. Her golden hair was up in a prim bun. She wore a pair of glasses, non-prescription, that highlighted the pristine angles of her face. A short tartan skirt showed off her luscious thighs and a tight-fitting blouse accentuated her plump breasts. Scott could not help but flash her an appreciative gaze, even as he wondered why she wasn’t as scantily-clad as usual.
“I thought I’d remind you what a good match we are, Scott,” Emma said. “You’re not just an X-Man, you’re a teacher. So am I. I do enjoy showing other men what they can’t have—what’s only yours, because only you can properly appreciate it. But if you want, I’d be happy to dress like this… with you the only one to rip it off me.”
“Very cute,” Betsy announced, presenting herself from the shadows—the ninja having surreptitiously entered. “But Scott doesn’t need a teacher. He needs a student. That’s me, Scott. Willing to learn all you have to teach me. Willing to learn how to be your perfect sexual match… if I’m not already.”
And Betsy did look delicious in her school uniform, especially with it too brief for her adult physique. Her sweet little skirt fit tightly around her juicy hips, pleating out several inches above her thighs. Her pink sweater was filled out by the seemingly oversized breasts on her athletic physique, giving the garment an obscene lift that held it above an expanse of olive-colored midsection. Perfectly toned and chiseled into deft muscles that were almost a match for Scott’s own bulging biceps and sizable pecs.
Lastly, Betsy’s black/purple hair was banged and pulled into pigtails, giving a naughty hint of the Lolita to an otherwise mature woman.
“Oh, please!” Emma tsked. “The Asian schoolgirl? Really?”
“Mad you’re not young enough to pull it off?” Betsy asked.
“Ladies,” Scott said, his firm voice stilling them. “I think that’s enough chatter. Since we’re not getting anywhere with a debate, I propose we move on to the proving ground.”
“Fine by me,” Jean said. “But since I was here first, the first challenge had better be mine…”
“Scott, don’t you want to take a little something off me?” Emma asked. “I know you’d hate to be stuck looking at these two all night.”
“It’s been so long since I got to be your fuck-socket,” Betsy moaned. “Remind me again of how to be a good cock holster? Teach me? I know I’ll never forget again after you ruin my pussy for other men…”
“Jesus Christ,” Jean moaned, rolling her eyes.
“Jean,” Scott said, walking up to her.
“Oh, come on, she’s being ridiculous!” Jean griped. “You can’t tell me you really get off on her being some… cum bucket… person…”
Scott put his hand on her shoulder. He pressed down. Not hard enough to force Jean, but with enough stiffness to inexorably push her to her knees, so long as she went willingly. And Jean went willingly, thinking that at least he hadn’t picked Betsy or Emma. It was her that got to go first, as she deserved…
“Open,” Scott told her when she was knelt before him, and she dutifully parted her lips. “Good girl. Now you’re going to show me how much cock that pretty mouth can take.”
“Ha!” Emma sniffed. “Unless she got a new throat while she was dead, this one’s in the bag. I know that I’m the first one to ever hilt that monster of his…”
“Don’t listen to her, Jean,” Scott said, silencing Emma with a look. “Take out what you want in your mouth.”
Jean obediently unzipped Scott’s trousers and drew his erection from out of his fly. He had a full nine inches of hard cock to offer. His endowment was smooth as marble, thick, and it throbbed so hard for the three women that Jean could see it pulse.
While Jean was stunned speechless by the size he had to offer—awestruck by the possibility of once more possessing such a tower—Scott glanced at Emma and Betsy.
“Betts, I want you to touch herself. Make yourself come while Jean chokes on my cock.”
“And what about me?” Emma asked, toying with a button on her blouse as though she could still tempt Scott away from burying himself down Jean’s throat.
“You wait your turn. And remember.” He placed both hands on Jean’s head, holding her very still with mouth open, tongue lolling out, her parted lips a sheath waiting to be completed by his engorged cock. “This is what I expect you to be ready for.”
