Free Escalation Clause by Liz Crowe

not let Jack do this to her. She loved Brandis, he loved her, and she was not going to put up with her brother’s interference.
     
     
     
    Brandis stared at the tits bouncing in front of him. Another girl’s hand snaked around his neck, tweaked the large dark nipples making the first girl moan and grind down harder on his lap. He swallowed, his eyes and brain bleary, trying to rally but there was nothing more finite than a half-hearted hard-on to remind him that this was the last place on the planet he wanted to be right now. The girls had double-teamed him while they danced then pulled him upstairs and into one of his roommates’ bedrooms.
    “C’mon, baby,” the first girl with the admittedly incredible rack whispered. He flinched at the sensation of her tongue stuck in his ear. “Show me what you’ve got.”
    He kissed her then pushed her off his lap onto his bed. “Tell you what,” he said, running his hand over his hair. “You two show me instead.” The girls laughed and fell back, running hands and lips all over each other.
    “Now that is quite a show,” he jumped at the sound of Jack’s deep voice. His friend leaned in the doorway, holding a beer. After handing it to Brandis, he took a seat between the girls and ran his hand along one smooth hip, then down a thigh, and back up. Brandis sat and watched as Jack let the girls unbutton his belt and slip his jeans down and his shirt off.
    “Have fun, kids,” he mumbled, closing the door behind him to the sound of kissing, and other distinct noises of pleasure. He slid to the floor, drank the beer in a couple of gulps and tried to get a handle on what a shit he had been to Maureen. Her bright blue eyes accused him, memory of her amazing responsive body taunted him when he closed his eyes. So he opened them, and found another girl beckoning from the stairwell.
    “Let’s dance, Brandis. I’ll make you smile, I promise.” She crooked a manicured finger at him and sashayed down.
    Brandis got to his feet with some effort and followed her, already calculating how soon he could sneak out and go over to his parent’s house and be with her, once and for all, but the party had picked up steam. Girls were draped all over every surface, others danced on tables with his roommates in ratios of three or four to one, just like he’d planned it. He watched the sweat bead up on his dance partner’s bare shoulders, and the sudden compulsion to lick it, to taste her, made his cock slam against the back of his zipper. He grabbed her, kissed her, maneuvered her onto an empty couch. “Oh, baby, somebody sure is happy to see me,” She whispered, cupping his crotch.
    “Don’t talk, just…. Oh, yeah.” He was blind to her, but had his hands all over her. She was Mo and she wasn’t. She didn’t look, feel or taste like Mo but he pretended she did. Maybe this would get his head straight—a nice hard, to-the-point fuck without the burden of anyone’s virginity, or her disapproving brother, in the damn way. And at that moment he knew that if he did not have this girl right then he would implode.
    He yanked her to her feet, pulled her back into the small first floor bedroom and slammed the door, spinning her around and yanking her skirt up in one motion. His jeans were down around his ankles and his cock buried deep inside her in minutes. He pounded into her, making her squeal and grab the back of the door but she kept arching back, meeting him halfway. He grabbed one hip and reached around to press his finger against her clit. She shuddered, yelled his name and gripped his shaft so tight it hurt. The climax lit a fire in him, burst into his brain and down his spine in seconds. He pumped into her for what felt like hours then draped himself over her sweaty, still clothed back.
    “God, I’m sorry,” he groaned as he pulled out, noting he’d committed the cardinal sin of going bareback. “Oh, shit, I am really, really sorry.”
    “What for sweetie?” The girl purred,