Crumple Zone

Arriving at the condominium, Hank quickly cut three slices of pie and served the still very warm pie with a scoop of ice cream.

"Yawn. I'm tired. Pie always makes me so tired. Holly?" Hank asked.

"Hmm? Oh, oh yeah, yawn. Pie? I don't know if I can even make it all the way up the stairs," Holly agreed. "Marc?"

"Me? Hmm, no, no not really," Marc teased as Hank slipped her pull over shirt up and off, revealing her beautiful boobs.

"See?" Holly said, also slipping out of her shirt. "You're so tired, you don't even know what you saying."

"See, Marc. You're very tired," Hank ordered, pulling him out of his seat.

"Hmm. I, I guess I am," Marc laughed and followed the procession of the two nude girls up the seps.

"Oh, oh, anal!" Holly said, walking on hands and knees across the bed.

"Really? You really, I, I've never seen that, I, oh!" Hank said, beginning to masturbate as Holly produced a tube of lubricant.

"Move them hands," Holly ordered, kissing Hank. "Told you, that's mine, that's my job."

"Then do your job," Hank ordered, spreading her legs wider.

Marc watched for a few moments as Holly tasted Hank's splayed inner lips. He watched as her fingers delved into Hank's depths. Then he coated his index and middle fingers with the lubrication.

"Hmm, mmph, augh, I, yes," Holly grunted as Marc's thick fingers pushed into her winking anus.

Holly shivered and grunted as Marc twisted the two fingers around. She shuddered and gasped when he scissored his fingers inside of her rectum, widening her hole.

"I oh, oh sweet Jesus fuck!" Holly barked out as the blunt head of Marc's cock pressed against her greasy anus.

Hank wiggled around and knelt next to Marc. Her beautiful eyes were opened wide as she watched Holly's anus flower open, watched Marc's slow progress as he pushed his cock into Holly's anus.

"I, oh my God, she, you, you're doing it," Hank breathed, then pressed her lips to Marc's lips.

Marc was grateful for the beautiful nude girl's presence. He was grateful for the distraction; her nude body pressed against him, her soft, passionate kiss, her enthusiasm. Otherwise, he would have already ejaculated; Holly's anus was squeezing his cock in a velvet vise grip, her rectal muscles were trying to force him out. The heat was incredible, the vulgarity, the naughtiness of the entire experience was indescribable.

"Oh, shit! Shit yes, I God, I love it up the..." Holly groaned, voice strangled.

"I want to..." Hank started to say.

"No! Not until..." Holly ordered.

Marc suddenly felt Holly's fleshy globes pressing against his abdomen. Looking down, Marc realized he was imbedded in Holly's luscious ass, fully inside of her to the hilt.

He could see her greasy light brown ring stretched taut around the girth of his thick cock. He could feel her muscles squeezing and pulsing around the shaft, squeezing and pulsing around the head of his cock. Marc could hear her pants and grunts and whimpers as he held himself inside of her bowels.

"Oh God, oh Jesus, I mmng!" Holly cried out as Marc began to pull out of her rectum.

She grunted and groaned and panted as he pulled himself out of her bowels. When he began to push back into her, Holly drove herself backward. She screamed out and thrashed in pleasure.

Marc ceased trying to be gentle and began to fuck her ass with vigor. Holly grunted, screamed, cursed and called out for him to fuck her.

"I, oh, I, Jesus! Aieegh! Aieegh! I oh God, God damn it yes!" Holly screamed in orgasm as she felt Marc's semen flooding into her guts.

The shower was a walk-in shower with dual shower heads and a padded bench. After Holly scrubbed Marc's cock clean, she kissed him hotly, rubbing his cock with her small hand.

"Mmng, I, oh, oh Marc, oh yes!" Holly cried out when Marc picked her up, pinned her against the shower wall and began fucking her with long, forceful strokes.

After flooding her pussy with semen, Marc staggered back and sat, hard onto the padded bench. Holly giggled, finding that his cock was still hard, still buried inside of her.

"Come on, Tiger; Hank's waiting for her turn," Holly giggled, kissing him.

Hank was indeed waiting, ass perched in the air. She squealed and gurgled as Marc pushed himself into her wet, ready pussy. Holly wiggled to lie in front of Hank's mouth and Hank cooed and murmured as she ate the cream pie Holly fed to her.

Monday morning, Marc was sluggish and slightly chafed as he staggered down the stairs. He had to go toward Kimble, rush through a shower and shaving, dress then drive back toward Bender. He was twenty eight minutes late; thankfully, he was the manager of his department of one.

At their shared coffee break, Holly laughed her happy, musical laugh as she teased Marc about coming in late. Then she reminded him that it was Monday, and Monday meant red beans and rice at the Tannenbaum house.

Tuesday morning, Marc again had to rush to his apartment, rush to his job. Tuesday evening, he got smart and packed a suit and shirt and his toiletries.

Thursday morning, Martin himself called Marc into his office. With some hemming and hawing, Martin finally got around to divulging that someone had lodged a complaint that Marc had used his status, his position as a manager to coerce a subordinate into a sexual relationship.

"Tell Brandon Walker that Holly Tannenbaum is an assistant manager and is in a separate department of Boyd Investment Group," Marc smiled. "I have no authority over her or her department. There is no coercion going on in our relationship."

"Had to follow up on it," Martin said, still looking ill at ease.

"Oh, I understand. And, yes, I would encourage you to follow up with Ms. Tannenbaum," Marc said.

"Why don't you just move in?" Hank asked on Thursday evening as Marc brought in his casual work outfit for casual Friday. "Oh, and where we going tomorrow night?"

"Bowling again?" Holly asked.

Go-carts after a very messy roast beef po-boy at Momma's was met with approval. The video arcade after Marc managed to beat both Holly and Hank on the track was also met with approval.

Tuesday, right before he clocked out for lunch, Holly burst into Marc's office. She playfully shoved his rolling chair aside as she rapidly typed on his keyboard.

"You have got to see this," Holly enthused as the Channel 12 streaming video started.

"And I'm here with Mealy Stamey," and we fixing make us a down and dirty quick chicken cacciatore," Milt Duhon announced as a beaming Mealy Stamey stood next to him.

"I bet her panties are soaked," Holly whispered as Amelia's adoration of Milt Duhon was undisguised.

Marc and Holly ate their lunch at Marc's desk, watching the streaming feed of the show. Holly sent a link to Hank's cell phone; she was sure Hank would want the recipe for the chicken cacciatore.

"Seriously, why you don't just move in?" Hank asked as she fixed Italian omelets on Saturday morning.

"Think about it," Holly whispered. "Two beautiful women, making love with you..."

"Feeding you, taking care of you..." Hank agreed, placing his plate in front of him.

After the fourth weekend, Marc agreed to put in his thirty days' notice at his apartment. He boxed up his clothing and put a few mementos and keepsakes into a separate box. At the moment, he was undecided of what to do with the furniture.

"Know what? I, I bet Charmaine would love that table," Marc thought.

Charmaine Hebert, Marc's cousin through his mother's unmarried baby sister was only too happy to come get the table and six dining chairs and the living room set of couch, recliner and end tables, coffee table and two brass lamps.

"What about the bedroom set?" Marc asked the beautiful, chubby eighteen year old girl as her two male friends helped her.

"Bed's not big enough," Charmaine smiled.

"Yeah," one of the hulking young men smiled.

"I uh, oh, oh!" Marc said, then gasped at the looks Charmaine and the two young men shared.

"You wasn't my cousin, I'd tell you there's room in our bed," Charmaine admitted, unconsciously thrusting her pneumatic breasts in his direction.

"But we are," Marc hastily reminded the beautiful brunette. "I, I'll see if Alondra could use the bed."

Alondra Anders was Marc's nineteen year old niece; Gertrude 'Trudy' Trahan had married Jonathon Anders the Saturday after her graduation from St. Thomas Aquinas. They liked to joke that Alondra Michelle Anders had been born five months premature; she'd been born in November.

At present, the nineteen year old girl and her boyfriend and two or three other couples were renting a double wide trailer; Marc was pretty sure the beautiful but flighty girl could use the furniture. He was sure they could also use his serviceable cookware, is sturdy plates and bowls and cups.

The Saturday morning after he had moved in, had edged aside the winter clothing in the guest bedroom's closet for his clothes and put his toiletries into the guest bathroom, Marc watched with some curiosity as Hank and Holly both went into the bathroom. They normally did not shower until after their breakfast, and usually, he was invited/ordered to join them in the large shower.

"Okay, and we wait thirty minutes, and..." Holly said as they came out of the bathroom.

"God, that long?" Hank asked, crawling into bed again.

"Hi. What you doing?" Holly asked Marc.

"Nothing. Just laying here," Marc smiled.

"Really? Me too!" Holly enthused, gripping his morning wood in her hand.

Holly straddled his hips and guided him into her. She smiled down at him as she sat still, using her PC muscles.

"I, oh, oh yes," Holly hissed as Marc insinuated a finger into her tight rectum.

"Remember, I get to..." Hank said to Holly.

"Mm hmm, I, God, I hope you get to," Holly agreed, eyes tightly shut. "Real soon, hear?"

"A 'brrrp!' sounded out just as Marc and Holly were beginning the familiar grunts and thrusts of their impending climax. Hank shut off the cell phone's alarm and bounded out of the bed.

"It is! It, Holly, its blue!" Hank screamed an ear-shattering scream from the bathroom.

Marc's semen shot up, striking Holly's breast and belly as she dismounted. Holly didn't seem to notice as she hurried into the bathroom.

A second ear-shattering scream and the drumming of feet had Marc's erection wilting. A moment later, Holly, still wearing her semen streak on breast and belly, and an ecstatic Hank raced into the bedroom. Both girls leapt onto Marc, both tried to kiss him at the same time, bumping each other's heads.

"Oh you beautiful, beautiful man!" Hank laughed joyously.

"Oh, this is, oh you are, you are so wonderful!" Holly laughed.

Finally, Marc got the information out of the two girls; Hank was pregnant. This was what the two women had hoped for; this was why Holly had been so elated when Hank had invited Marc into the condo after their bowling date. On that Friday, Hank had been at her most fertile period.

"We, I, I'm going be a Mommy," Hank now sobbed, overcome with joy.

"What you think about that, Daddy," Holly asked, kissing Marc before he could answer.

There was no breakfast and lunch was not served until two thirty that afternoon. Hank wore nothing but fuzzy socks and an apron as she quickly whipped together some cheese and roasted vegetable crepes.

"By the way, ass fucking?" Hank said as they sat to enjoy the meal. "Never again. Holly? You, you're insane, hear? Shit hurts."

Two Tuesdays after Hank's happy discovery and announcement of her pregnancy, Marc looked up when Holly lightly knocked on his doorjamb. Marc smiled, then lost the smile when Holly silently pointed at his office door.

"I uh, yeah, yeah you can close it," Marc agreed.

"I, you know, I been feeling a little off last couple of days," Holly said, taking a seat in front of his desk.

"Yeah, I..." Marc started to say.

"Anyway, I just got back from Dr. Turner's," Holly said, voice low, flat.

"Every, is everything okay?" Marc asked, the color draining from his face.

"I, no, no it's not," Holly wailed out, bursting into tears.

"I, oh, oh my God, is, is it cancer?" Marc could scarcely bring himself to ask as he knelt down next to her chair, wrapping his arms around her.

"I'm pregnant," Holly sobbed out.

"I, you, you're what?" Marc asked.

"I'm pregnant. Right about two months now," Holly cried.

Doing the math in his head, Marc realized both Holly and Hank had conceived that first weekend he'd been in their bed. He smiled, squeezing her even tighter.

"I, this, this is wonderful," Marc happily said.

"I, God! Hank, Hank's going kill me!" Holly wailed out. "I, how? How could this happen?"

"Well, see, the Daddy and the Mommy..." Marc joked, elated.

"I know how it happened," Holly shrilled. "I but how did this happen? This wasn't supposed to...this, this was supposed to be just Hank."

"I, but, but that that's fantastic! That's fantastic! I, Holly, Holly Tannenbaum, I, will you marry me?" Marc laughed happily.

"I, wait, what?" Holly asked.

"Will you marry me?" Marc repeated.

"What? I, are you, Marc, I, I can't," Holly stammered out.

"I mean, I know we can't have a church wedding; I mean, we're both divorced and..." Marc prattled.

"I, Marc, Marc, I can't marry you; I'm already married," Holly said.

"Huh? No, no you're not. You, you said, you and Mattie, y'all are divorced," Marc argued.

"I, Mattie? Yeah, yeah, we, we're divorced, but Marc, I, I'm, Hank, Hank and I, we we're married," Holly stammered out.

Marc sat on the floor, hard. Holly's lips continued moving, she was still speaking, but Marc couldn't hear a word she said.

Slowly, Marc got to his feet. He numbly opened the door of his office, then walked around and sat at his desk.

"I, Hol...Mrs. Tannenbaum, I, please leave my office," Marc ordered, swiveling to look at his monitor.

Marc felt himself crumpling inwardly. His insides were just so much jelly packed inside of his skin.

Becky, his wife had used him; he had just been a means to an end. She had wanted the prestige of being married, she had wanted an expensive, glitzy, glittery ring and the title of MRS. She had wanted a fancy car, fancy name-brand clothing, and an upscale apartment. And Marc was just the fool to give her those things.

After she'd coerced, manipulated him into giving her those things, Becky had decided she wanted to try out other things. After their divorce was final, Marc had discovered, through Becky smugly throwing it into his face, that his loving, devoted wife had tried gang bangs, had tried a lesbian fling. The two black men was just another thing for her to cross off her list; she'd never had a black cock before that evening.

And, apparently, Hank, and Holly had only wanted sperm. The two women had only wanted a baby. And, now that Hank, that both of them had conceived, Marc was no longer needed. He was disposable.

Ten minutes later, Marc sent an email to Martin Boyd, citing personal matters. Then he left the Boyd Building.

Marc entered Red's Sports Bar, sat at a table and caught the attention of the scantily clad waitress. She smiled flirtatiously as she thrust her barely contained breasts in his face.

"Ice cold St. Elizabeth's Light and a plate of the wings. Hot, hot, hot, hot as you can get them," Marc said, ignoring her silicone enhanced breasts.

The apartment was empty; he still had two days left on his lease, but it was empty. Marc was pretty sure the landlord had rented the unit the moment they'd concluded the walk-through. Perhaps his mother would let him spend a few nights in her home, just until he got another place to live.

"Buy a girl a drink?" Holly asked as the waitress swiveled and swayed away from his table.

"How'd you find me?" Marc glumly asked.

"Followed you," Holly admitted. "Surprised you didn't see me right behind you. Not a whole lot of classic Mustangs out there."

Marc said nothing. Holly waved the waitress over and ordered an iced tea, unsweetened. When the woman placed the drink on the table, Holly looked into Marc's flat eyes.

"I know, well, I assume..." Holly said.

"Know what happens when you assume?" Marc tried to smile.

"...I know what you, you're thinking," Holly went on. "You, you're thinking we, Hank and me, Hank and I, we just used you."

"Well, didn't you?" Marc asked bitterly. "Isn't that exactly what happened?"

The wings arrived and Holly reached out to grab one. Marc's hand shot out and stopped her.

"Sweetheart, they, look at them; they're still smoking. You can't eat that yet," Marc cautioned.

"See?" Holly smiled. "Even though you think I, we used you, what did you just do?"

"I give up. What did I do?" Marc asked.

"You called me 'Sweetheart.' Even though you're mad at me, you called me...and you just stopped me from burning the roof of my mouth," Holly said, grabbing a celery stick from the plate.

"Marc, we, Hank and I, we were looking at in vitro fertilization, looking at doctors," Holly said. "Then, one day, I went to dinner with you. Whole time, whole time we were sitting there, not once did you call your ex-wife, sorry, I don't remember her name, but..."

"Becky," Marc said, nibbling on a carrot stick.

"See? Even now? You could have called her a nasty name. But you didn't. I went home and told Hank I just found the Daddy we need for our baby," Holly said and again reached for a wing.

"Yay me," Marc mumbled.

"I told her, I found a man, a real man. And, our baby, he or she, our baby would have a Daddy, a man that would stick around and teach him how to ride a bike, teach her how to roller skate..." Holly said, dunking the wing into the blue cheese dip.

"Well, Daddy needs to learn how to roller skate first if I'm going teach her," Marc smiled tightly. "And please, please tell me he or she won't be playing soccer, oh God kill me. Having to go watch my niece Alondra just running back and forth...how can a bunch of kids do that much running and never score a single damned point?"

"Marc, we, we didn't use you; we chose you," Holly said and whistled at the spicy heat of the wing. "This, oh, oh my God, Hank, hank needs to try this...Miss! Waitress?"

"Yes ma'am," the young woman asked.

"I need an order of these, to go," Holly said, pointing at the wings.

"Separate checks?" the waitress asked Marc.

"No, no, put it on my bill," Marc said.

"Marc, we could have, we were already prepared to go the clinic route, but then I met the most wonderful man in the world. And watching you throw gutterball after gutter ball? I, I prayed, I even said a 'Hail Mary' that Hank would accept you and for a Jewish girl to say a 'Hail Mary?' Well, shit, you know that's serious," Holly said, linking fingers with him.

Holly ate the majority of the wings. Marc had to move the Styrofoam container of the second order of wings out of her reach, else Hank would get no wings. He ordred a plate of assorted sliders and bacon potato skins. Again, Holly ate the majority of those, but Marc was sufficiently fed.

"Please, please come home. Its home. It's our home, you and me and Hank," Holly begged. "If you're not there? It, it's not home. It's just a place."

Marc slowly shrugged his shoulders in defeat. Holly squealed happily and kissed him. She waited while Marc settled up the bill, then they left the bar together.

"I'll take..." Holly said, reaching for the take-out box.

"No, you won't," Marc smiled. "I'll make sure Hank gets it."

"Oh, but she's not going want all of them," Holly wheedled.

"And what she don't eat, I will," Marc said, hitting the key fob for his truck's door lock.

"Hey Marc?" Holly asked, standing by her Mustang.

"Yeah?" Marc asked, looking over the bed of his truck.

"I. We, we love you," Holly promised.

The End.

**Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment. I thank you sincerely for reading my stories.