Stiff Intervention

Kelly is a wild college girl living up every moment of her spring break. Only, her behavior has grown self destructive, and Bryan and Gary, two of her ex-boyfriends, have become extremely concerned. Both of them stage an intervention, hoping that Kelly will realize that her strange, drunken antics are beginning to show up online. Kelly wants none of it at first, but when she realizes that she can't rid herself of the two guys, she decides to turn things to her favor. Gary and Bryan must decide if they can handle the responsibility of satisfying her needs and desires, even if it means sharing her . . .

This short story features graphic descriptions of male-female-male MMF menage sex. It is intended only for mature and adult readers.

Excerpt:

“This isn’t a party,” Kelly said. “It’s an intervention.” She glared at me and then at Gary. “You two assholes drag me back to my room, and accuse me of being a fuck-up?” She stood. “No. No—I ain’t got time for this shit.”

“Please sit back down?” I stepped in front of the door. I looked at her. Kelly was in a tight black miniskirt with an equally tight black top, which made her cleavage bulge out of. She wore no leggings, and she really didn’t wear anything other than a strappy pair of fuck-me pumps. Waves accentuated her long black hair, and she kept her face simple with very little make up. She didn’t need any, really. Her high cheekbones and tanned complexion required very little enhancement. Kelly was beautiful, and even though she had broken my heart on many occasions, I wasn’t going to let her self destruct. I loved her too much for that to happen.

Kelly scowled at me, and then at Gary, too.“What? So you can tell me how much of a horrible person I am?”

“No,” Gary said. “We love you. It’s just that we’re concerned, that’s all.” Gary crossed his arms for full effect.

Kelly tried to walk around me, but I calmly stepped in her way each time. She hung her shoulders and went back to the bed, where she sat crossed-legged. For a moment, she stared at her hands, and then she glowered at me and then Gary. “You even call this an intervention? There’s only two of you. And I’ve already dumped the both you.”

“That doesn’t matter, right now,” I said. I went to the motel room’s desk and flipped open my laptop. “Let’s just take a quick look at the recent uploads on DrunkSlutTube.com.” I slightly hovered over the keys, tracking my curser over to the search field. “Lets see. I just type Kelly Minulli here and hit enter.”

A list of flash videos popped up. Each of them starred Kelly. I hit the one at the top; it was about 30 seconds of footage. Kelly was completely naked and running through a ShawMart’s parking lot with a bottle of cheap wine. The person holding the camera desperately tried to follow her, and the point of view camera angle often shifted from her butt and bare, tattooed back to the faces of shocked elderly people wheeling shopping carts out of the supercenter. ...