hands to shoot his seed down
into the rawness of her throat. Watching her neck, I could see her
swallowing down all his semen.
You must have
known that I was about to come, Freddie, because suddenly you
withdrew your hand from me, just as I felt the sensuous itch of
your stimulation build up inside me and begin to surge through my
body. But as I hadn't come, I was desperate. Simone came and
kneeled between my legs as she had knelt between Adele's and began
to employ all her expertise, flicking her tongue over the swollen
lips of my sex, not enough to make me instantly climax, but to
slowly increase the intensity of my pleasure.
And now
suddenly it was my turn, all the attention was focused on me, apart
that is for you. Freddie, who had crept behind Simone, raised up
her skirt, levered her panties down and was now pistoning into her
moist cunny flesh. I could see your face tensing a little more with
each thrust of your steely cock. But me, I had Adele's mouth on
mine, then her tongue snaking inside, the taste of her saliva
mingling with Frank's spunk. Jean-Claude and Frank kneeled either
side of me. They had pulled the straps of my dress down over my
breasts, and lowered my bra cups, each one taken a nipple in their
mouth, nibbling on me, biting gently on the tight knot of my teat.
Frank sneaked a hand down the other side of my panties, first
tickling me, then grabbing my buttock in his hand, pushing his
finger further onto the tender outer flesh of my anus, while
Jean-Claude stroked his hand across my pubic hair.
There were so
many different centres of pleasure, each erogenous zone itching
with desire. At last I could feel myself coming as I saw you
Freddie, taking your twitching cock out of Simone and shooting your
load onto her buttocks, forcing her mouth harder onto me. I spasmed
under their constriction, their tight control, first clenching my
thighs around the honey-blond of Simone's head, then slightly
slackening before pressing harder and harder onto her, looking down
into her clenched eyes as she reached her climax.
It was strange
to describe the atmosphere between us all afterwards. Initially
there were lots of smiles, lots of openness and caressing, but soon
the previous amiable banter started again.
A little later
we went to a bar on the corner of the street. The place was dense
with smoke, loud music pounded in the background. It was the sort
of bar I had often seen but infrequently been in: all done in
aquamarine, a parquet floor, and uncomfortable fixed stools that we
all sat on around the bar.
I know you
were a little worried about me then, thinking how quiet I was,
wondering if some sense of guilt was washing over me. I know that I
was quiet, but not guilty: Gregory was as far away from me in my
thoughts as he was in actual distance. I was shy. There was only
Adele who seemed as inexperienced as I was. For the others, as I am
sure it was for you at that stage, pleasurable though I'm sure the
experience had been, it had not quite had the momentous impact that
it had certainly had on me. I had never even passionately kissed a
woman before and there I had been spread out in the chair and
french-kissed by Adele as Simone had licked and sucked on me.
Maybe
everything was happening too quickly. No, I am not saying that I
regretted anything that had happened. I had been so terribly
excited, but, as I said, no Damascus-like conversions. You had
thrown me in at the deep end, and I was wondering whether I would
be able to swim.
You wanted to
know what I was thinking. As you walked to the bathroom, you
stopped by my stool and asked me. I told you nothing special, but
what I had been reflecting upon as you asked me was my usual
Saturday night with Gregory. A meal at about nine, a bottle of
wine, a couple of hours either watching the television or going to
the local pub as we had done the previous week, and then in bed by
eleven. Maybe there was a kiss and cuddle, a chat, occasionally an
argument, a little bit
into the rawness of her throat. Watching her neck, I could see her
swallowing down all his semen.
You must have
known that I was about to come, Freddie, because suddenly you
withdrew your hand from me, just as I felt the sensuous itch of
your stimulation build up inside me and begin to surge through my
body. But as I hadn't come, I was desperate. Simone came and
kneeled between my legs as she had knelt between Adele's and began
to employ all her expertise, flicking her tongue over the swollen
lips of my sex, not enough to make me instantly climax, but to
slowly increase the intensity of my pleasure.
And now
suddenly it was my turn, all the attention was focused on me, apart
that is for you. Freddie, who had crept behind Simone, raised up
her skirt, levered her panties down and was now pistoning into her
moist cunny flesh. I could see your face tensing a little more with
each thrust of your steely cock. But me, I had Adele's mouth on
mine, then her tongue snaking inside, the taste of her saliva
mingling with Frank's spunk. Jean-Claude and Frank kneeled either
side of me. They had pulled the straps of my dress down over my
breasts, and lowered my bra cups, each one taken a nipple in their
mouth, nibbling on me, biting gently on the tight knot of my teat.
Frank sneaked a hand down the other side of my panties, first
tickling me, then grabbing my buttock in his hand, pushing his
finger further onto the tender outer flesh of my anus, while
Jean-Claude stroked his hand across my pubic hair.
There were so
many different centres of pleasure, each erogenous zone itching
with desire. At last I could feel myself coming as I saw you
Freddie, taking your twitching cock out of Simone and shooting your
load onto her buttocks, forcing her mouth harder onto me. I spasmed
under their constriction, their tight control, first clenching my
thighs around the honey-blond of Simone's head, then slightly
slackening before pressing harder and harder onto her, looking down
into her clenched eyes as she reached her climax.
It was strange
to describe the atmosphere between us all afterwards. Initially
there were lots of smiles, lots of openness and caressing, but soon
the previous amiable banter started again.
A little later
we went to a bar on the corner of the street. The place was dense
with smoke, loud music pounded in the background. It was the sort
of bar I had often seen but infrequently been in: all done in
aquamarine, a parquet floor, and uncomfortable fixed stools that we
all sat on around the bar.
I know you
were a little worried about me then, thinking how quiet I was,
wondering if some sense of guilt was washing over me. I know that I
was quiet, but not guilty: Gregory was as far away from me in my
thoughts as he was in actual distance. I was shy. There was only
Adele who seemed as inexperienced as I was. For the others, as I am
sure it was for you at that stage, pleasurable though I'm sure the
experience had been, it had not quite had the momentous impact that
it had certainly had on me. I had never even passionately kissed a
woman before and there I had been spread out in the chair and
french-kissed by Adele as Simone had licked and sucked on me.
Maybe
everything was happening too quickly. No, I am not saying that I
regretted anything that had happened. I had been so terribly
excited, but, as I said, no Damascus-like conversions. You had
thrown me in at the deep end, and I was wondering whether I would
be able to swim.
You wanted to
know what I was thinking. As you walked to the bathroom, you
stopped by my stool and asked me. I told you nothing special, but
what I had been reflecting upon as you asked me was my usual
Saturday night with Gregory. A meal at about nine, a bottle of
wine, a couple of hours either watching the television or going to
the local pub as we had done the previous week, and then in bed by
eleven. Maybe there was a kiss and cuddle, a chat, occasionally an
argument, a little bit
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