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The Dream Continues Ch. 01

By: Gussie



Authors Note – Please read “The Beginning……..” and “The Dream Unfolds 

to help understand this story

Three weeks passed in a flash, there were short morning calls, long calls, with longer pauses where something intangible flowed between us, and talks that went on and on. We were planning to be together for a whole night. 

She was exploring books on sex. Reading novels, in French, that contained erotic descriptions of anal sex, and other ideas that would become part of our voyage, of our vocabulary. 

I told her that I had booked us into a double bedded room at my Club. Breakfast was always left ready outside the rooms at the appointed time, with a discrete knock on the door to say it was there. 

We would have a long private time together, and she arranged her life so that she could be with me for the whole of the next day.

We met for tea at the same famous hotel, where we met on our second meeting. There was a sudden rush of pleasure as I saw her again across the foyer, her startlingly black hair, that wonderful smile, and those deep blue eyes. She simply looked fantastic. Tea brought the same experience as our first. 

We were genuinely surrounded by old men with their mistresses. We were both good listeners, and could pick up snippets of conversation, plus those knowing looks. It was huge fun.

Over tea she whispered that she was wearing her new bra, I had looked hard, but the small floral print of her tight bodice hid the points of her nipples until I looked with especial care. I stared until I could see she was telling the truth. 

As I stared she started to giggle, and her breasts wobbled slightly. It was fun to know what a change love was making. 

This all made me hard in my own right. She realised, and I watched, as her teats slowly pushed the material of her dress until all, who cared to look, could see her points. Her nipples had a will of their own. They were truly erotic. Tea finished, and we took a taxi to the Club. 

I booked into our room; we drank half a bottle of Champagne, and prepared to go out to dinner.

We talked incessantly, breathlessly catching up on everything, as though we had never talked on the ‘phone over the past weeks. She explained that she wanted to try anal sex as it sounded so erotic. She had loved my fingers in her arse when we washed after our first dinner. 

We were both anal virgins, so we agreed to wait until after this meal. Before that we would take a gentle bath, make love, dress, then eat in a very simple French Restaurant near by. 

Our lovemaking was very sensuous, full of anticipation of what was to come. We bathed first, then made love, and the consequences were wonderful. My balls were very full again. They were on the edge of pain. We filled her cunt to overflowing. We then dressed each other to go out to dinner. 

This wonderful woman had responded to my shopping for the open French bra. She had purchased a whole new wardrobe of sexy underwear. Together we decided that she would be braless, with long suspenders and stockings, but that she would wear panties in an attempt to stem the flood. She wore the same close fitting floral dress that she had worn at tea. She looked stunningly beautiful.

Lack of a bra made her breast jiggle as she moved. All movement kept her nipples erect, pushing against the tight fabric. Her outfit was completed with a large, bright red, incredibly soft, pashm shawl, which mysteriously moved backwards and forwards across her nipples as we walked. Later her shawl continued to move over our meal, just as it had at the first dinner. We went out into the street.

We had only walked two hundred yards down the road when she burst into more laughter. Blue eyes blazed as she said out loud “cum is tricking down the inside of my naked thighs”. I was in fits of laughter; it would have been torrents had she not worn her new panties. 

She said it felt very erotic. She described, in detail, how several streams of cum were trickling down her thighs to stop at the tops of her stockings, then they slowly spread all around her upper legs. By now the cum was cooling. It had become more liquid in her body as the sperm raced around inside trying to find what to do next, and puzzling where to go. It was still not drying; she found it very sensuous on a warm autumn night.

Dinner was good and went quickly. We though we knew what was in store. We rushed back to our room; we agreed to have another warm bath to help our first anal experience. The water was warm to perfection, her tumbling black hair was held in a bun on top of her head. We washed each other in a highly ritualistic manner.

Romantically I dried, and carried my beautiful creature, curled up, and stark naked, from the bathroom to our bed. It was an “across the threshold” gesture for our first night together. 

She was on top while we tenderly began to make love; KY jelly and cunt fluids were worked into her anal passage. Her sphincter was gently stretched. She said she was ready.

We both knew that an engorged cock might be too much, and it was. She took my penis in both hands, told me it was covered in pre-cum, and gently positioned the hard tip against her anal flower. She slowly pushed back. I was as still as stone. She burst into tears with pain and sorrow. 

I comforted her, knowing that we were not yet ready. 

When all was calm we made love, very conventionally, slowly, gently, and lovingly, as though we had been together for years and years. We could hardly believe that we had only known each other for a month. 

She was terribly upset, that I might be hurt, offended, and angry. I was none of these. I was very, very sad for her, that she was unable to give me her anal virginity. Neither of us had a clue what to expect, although she had translated passages from a French story, and we knew that it must become part of our voyage of discovery.

We lay facing and, I wept with her. I held her very tight, then kissed her eyes dry, squeezing her body flat against mine for protection. Slowly she relaxed, and as she did I released my hold. I passed my upper had slowly down her body, tracing ever decreasing circles on her breast as I did. I felt her stir. I gently milked her wonderful nipple to hardness, then passed on my way down her stomach. 

Her glorious bush was waiting. I traced the upper boundary, of her most private self, with my middle finger. Then I entangled a curl or two, and lightly pulled on them. She stirred more, nuzzling my neck with her lips. 

My fingers worked into her forest of joy to arrive at her clitoris. I did not wait on this, but traced onwards into her track. She moved her legs slightly apart. She was opening her love to me. Two fingers traced her cunt lips with total tenderness. It was as though we had never touched before.

They found her hole, her place of joy, and tenderness. They went in.

Her sigh was so long I thought it would never stop. She began to roll onto her back. Our movements became continuous. Hers slow, with a feline graciousness that I had begin to hold in awe; mine as gentle, and as soft, as a man can be. 

She continued to move, her free leg lifting as I rolled top, and our mouths coming together in a kiss of love. My penis had come back to the present. It was hard. It found it’s natural home, and slipped completely into her. 

Her trapped leg became free. She raised it in one flowing movement, and wrapped them completely around my back. We fucked, a long, slow, and tender, fuck of love.

After that we slept in a spoon position, first trying, completely fruitlessly, to keep my penis in her vagina.

Later she rolled onto her back, even in sleep she was aroused. Her cunt remained wet all night, and those wonderful breasts, with their ever erect nipples, gently moved, slowly rising and falling as she breathed. We made love again during the night, woke, and had breakfast.

This started a long tradition of sitting facing each other, completely naked, and cross-legged, with the breakfast, or other meals, on a tray to one side. We fed each other. Her glorious cunt was invitingly wide open beneath her bush; there was the smell of sex everywhere as she slowly leaked cum onto the sheet. Her nipples were as engorged as ever. 

We could not think why, but somehow whipped cream was part of breakfast. It went everywhere. Each erect nipple was gently laden with the stuff; they did not bend under the new weight, but were taken in her hands, and offered forwards to my mouth to be sucked clean. We went on and on, hers were first, then mine, then my penis, then her cunt, each received special care and attention. 

The scrambled egg simply got cold, and we finished by make love again as a breakfast desert.

Time over ran, and I was likely to be late for my first out of town meeting. We bathed, packed in record time, and left for the appointment. It was simply chance that I was on time. Traffic was light; it had to be, for she slowly undressed, then dress again, as I tried to concentrate on driving. 

I left her, finally dressed again, to window shop while I went about my business. I prayed that she would not buy more underwear. If she had, then she would have wanted to model it as I drove to her home, and that was another cross country drive, which would require all my concentration.

We arrived home in the middle of the afternoon, exhausted, but deeply happy with each other. 

A little later, after a gentle bath, she was kneeling, stark naked, doggy style, against the side of her bed, with my penis in her cunt. The ‘phone rang. It was her husband. 

As they talked I inserted first one, then two fingers into her tiny anal passage. I twisted and moved them gently. There was not even a slight change of note in her voice, so I added more cunt juice, some KY jelly, and slowly inserted another finger. I moved with greater care, carefully twisted my three fingers through a full circle. I twisted them back, then I did I it again. 

They blithely went on talking. I pushed in slightly harder. She pushed back with an imperceptibly movement. I knew she was ready for the next move.

As they continued to talk my cock had simply exploded in size. 

I aligned the head, now well lubricated, and infinitely slowly pushed past her sphincter. I paused. The pitch of her voice did not change, so I eased right in without a further break. Fully in, with my balls tight against her sopping cunt, I leant forward. She knelt there, the ‘phone in one hand, supported on the other, with those perfect breasts gently swaying beneath her body. 

Her nipples were as magnetic as ever. I reached around, took each nipple between a thumb and forefinger, and gently milked them. Then I began to pull, and twist both teats. 

I pulled harder. I pulled and twisted again, harder and ever harder, until each breast formed a perfect long cone from the tip of her nipple to her chest. Fully stretched they almost touched the bed, my hands certainly did time and again.

The blessed girl simply continued to talk as the most erotic things that we had ever done continued to unfold. I released her breasts and stood up, legs slightly apart to ensure that we were at the same level. 

Here was a surreal situation. 

I looked down to see my cock jutting straight out from beneath my chestnut brown bush. Less than an inch of thick, glossy, wet, deep red, pulsing tube was visible; the rest disappeared straight into her arse. 

Two inches or so above her hole there was a distinct dimple in her unblemished skin, from there her backbone arched away to the nape of her neck, and to that glorious rich black hair.

Her arsehole was not stretched; it just fitted perfectly round my cock. Delectably smooth, ivory, skin spread out in all directions to her buttocks, then moulded to her slim waist, before flaring out to her arms. One shoulder was slightly lower as she held the ‘phone, and continued to talk to her husband. 

I leant forward, and slowly slipped both hands around her chest on to her breasts. I cupped both, clamping those wonderful erect nipples tight between my two middle fingers. I began a squeeze and release milking motion by opening and closing my fingers, pulling when they were tight together.

I think common decency just about stopped me from fucking until the pleasantries of the end of a conversation begun! My penis simply stayed filling her anal passage. It was a huge, gently throbbing, plug. It did not stop me from continuing to work her teats, now pulling them, now pinching harder, and harder still, now pulling them even further from her chest. 

Things changed when their conversation closed, and she put the ‘phone back on the hook.

Suddenly she reared upright to stand straight, her body still impaled on my penis. My hands stayed cupping each breast. I guess that more than half an inch of nipple protruded into space beyond my pinching fingers. She placed her hands over mine mashing both breasts flat to her body, clamping the ends of both her nipples very firmly between her own fingers. They still remained clamped hard between mine. 

We stood completely still except that she started a slow circular motion with both her hands. She pushed so hard that the soft flatness of her breasts allowed me to feel all the internal canals, and glands that make milk. She continued to roll them sensuously round, one to the left, the other to the right, flattened under our hands.

Not a word was spoken, but a minute or two later, she let go just as suddenly. She grabbed my head violently, and twisted my face towards hers. Our mouths met, with her long tongue acted like a small live penis, probing, shooting in and out, and searching my mouth. 

Over her shoulder I could see both nipples sticking straight out from the delicious swelling of her reddened breasts. They were heaving and falling as she gasped for air.

My penis had hardly moved more than a millimetre. It was gripped by her tube, and ready for action. This came as she slowly bent forward throwing both arms out wide from her body to grab a clump of sheet. She braked herself with her back parallel to the bed, at right angles to me. We went wild. 

I put my hands on her waist, and gripped her hard. I began to pump in and out with all my might. My balls slapped into her cunt time after time. She pushed back as hard meeting every stroke, ensuring that my cock was driven as deep as possible into her bowels. 

We climaxed together with load upon load of cum spurting far into her anal hole. It was total, almost violent sex, but it was also complete love. 

We were still again.

Slowly, gently, my cock ceased to pulse, and shoot sperm deep into her bowels. We sank forward onto the bed. Her arms spread out in a cruciform pattern, my hands following down each arm until we entwined our fingers. 

Then I held on, clamping her hands in mine, and stretched her arms hard. It was as though she was on a rack. I collapsed with my whole weight on her body. We touched everywhere in complete unison.

We lay like this for a very long time, savouring the moment, with my cock still deep in her arse. It began to shrink. 

Finally, slowly, I released my grip. I rolled to one side, and my penis slipped out of her body. I thought that we might lie together for a while savouring the moment. It was not to be. 

All hell broke loose. 

She was livid, beside herself with rage, at the danger. In a second she was kneeling beside me, arms raised, fists clenched, hair everywhere. Her wonderful blue eyes stared into mine with an intensity that would have melted the polar cap. Her chest heaved; her breasts still red from her own mauling. Her nipples looking so proud, and sharp, that they might have been used as a weapon.

I rolled on my side, and curled up, foetal position, for protection. My free arm came up to protect my face; my lower hand was down to protect my private parts. I returned her stare, feigning cowardice, from behind the protection of my arm. I felt very sheepish.

I thought, for just one fleeting moment, that she might hit me, but that would have been totally out of character. I knew her principles; she was a woman of total peace.

Then she started to laugh, her hands came forward to hold my face to hers. Her hair cascaded around us like a curtain. We were shielded from the world. She kissed my eyes, then my mouth, and she began to smother my face in kisses. 

Her tears wetted me, they were the drops of joy and pleasure, of the completeness of what we had achieved. They were the tears of emotion for many totally new feelings. All this was generated by our first perfect anal fuck. 

Very quietly she whispered, “thank you, I love you” into my ear.

Extraordinarily, as we began to talk, she said that it had not hurt at all as I pushed deep into her. I knew that it had not. It never did again, at any time, anywhere, or in any position. 

Our sensory perceptions of each other were already that complete. They were so highly tuned, that I would have stopped if it had. This was our bond. She knew it, and this helped her relax totally as I pushed slowly in. 

It turned us both on even more completely as we thought about it. 

She had been stark naked, kneeling on her bed calmly talking to her husband, as another’s penis slowly began to penetrate full deep into her bum. Once there it was still, while she simply continued to talk. 

She had not flinched as her breasts and nipples were pulled, pinched, milked, and stretched to their limits. She simply continued to talk. 

She was incredible, with her time stood still.

Few women can ever have had experiences like that, and she simply loved them all. She relished, every sexual, sensual moment.

We were entering a new era when we were to find that we could sleep joined together. We could stand watching others, who would never knew that we were coupled, and we could make milk. 

That is for later.



To be continued…….

Gussie would love comments, and your votes!

© Copyright Gussie – June 2003

The Dream Continues Ch. 02



Authors Note - Please read "The Beginning....." and "The Dream Continues" series. They may you understand this tale.

We had just finished the most perfect virgin anal sex. We were instant converts, and became immediate anal addicts. 

I had nothing to do that evening. She had a business appointment. We bathed, and she dressed in an exquisite, tailored, dark blue, business suit. 

She chose a fine white, fully tailored, blouse. It was slightly transparent, complete with many darts. It was a work of art that fitted closely everywhere. It tucked into the belt of a tight skirt, virtually without a ruck. I completely concurred; she was an apparition of business beauty.

She decided to wear the French bra. This would keep her nipples erect while she attended her evening meeting. She said that the movement of her nipples on the fabric would constantly keep me close to her thoughts. She would keep her jacket on, so her visible nipples were to be our secret.

She looked stunning as we went, fully dressed, to the kitchen. She prepared a late tea, then hoisted herself nimbly onto a worktop to eat hers. The tight skirt rose up those delectable thighs, exposing the tops of stockings, and suspender clips. I could see the crotch of her white panties. It was all too much. 

I grabbed her, lifted her off her skirt, and rolled it above her arse. Together we literally tore her panties off, actually ripping the side seams on both sides. I dragged them from under her with both hands, and threw them across the room. Her smell was everywhere.

Later we both said that our actions felt almost like an animalistic, ritualistic rape.

She lent back. I buried my face in her bush, found her clitoris, and began two alternative attacks. I nibbled. I sucked on it hard, and long. I took it between my teeth, as deeply as I could, then I chewed. I formed my lips into an "O", and drew it deep into my mouth as though it was one of her nipples, or a small penis. It began to fill my mouth. She wriggled and squirmed with delight. I let my teeth slide down to the very end, then I bit hard. She yelped with pleasure.

I was like a wild animal. 

I have always been a "twice a day man". I have a six o'clock shadow, and need to shave twice a day. If I do not I am likely to skin a girl alive with the bristles on my chin. 

We had also found that virtually permanent, wonderful sex, did wonders to the growth rate of my fingernails, my hair, and of course my beard. The latter ran wild! It appeared to grow faster, and faster! By now, early in the evening, I had a chin full of stubble.

I stopped my attack on her clit. Her labia were still deep red, and engorged, from our earlier fuck. I parted those beautiful lips by running my nose up and down the length, drinking in the glorious aromas. I wiggling my chin from side to side to completely open her up. 

I think I began to understand the meaning of "eating her out". Few can have had such a wonderful meal, or eaten of such an exotic table.

The inner faces of her lips were the most perfect soft skin on earth. I revelled in the pliant, baby smooth softness, and wetness, of her inner body. I deliberately dragged my stubble over her tender flesh. My chin moved up and down, and side to side, rasping her inner lips. Gentle murmurs came for within her soul. We were at the gates of heaven.

I repeated both cycles, biting on her clit, and rubbing my chin deep within her parted lips, knowing that I was taking her nearer, and nearer, to another shattering orgasm. She held my head to herself with such intensity that I could hardly breath. My nose was buried in her bush. I could hardly breathe. I had only use my face to take her on this journey. My arms were braced either side of her body. 

She let out a long gurgling scream of pleasure. It came from deep, deep within her body. She hugging me even harder to her soul, and suddenly she was sliding down the steep slope of ecstasy, her whole self gently shaking with joy. 

Nothing but my chin, lips, teeth and tongue, had ever touched her. My face was lathered in her juices, and my nose was wet. Her smell was everywhere. I wanted to keep it, and her, with me for the rest of my life.

Later she said that the orgasm was especially powerful because she was still coming down from the anal fuck that had started while she spoke to her husband. 

I believed her fully.

She pushed her hips forward to the edge of the worktop. I dropped my trousers to my ankles, and I fucked her with total abandon. She was soft, and pliable, as she descended from the heights, full of care, and gentle touching. 

We had already come five times in the past 24 hours, but my erection was as stiff as ever. This time there was virtually no cum as I came to a gentle orgasm inside her. There were tears of love in her eye. We were totally at one. 

No part of her clothing had been moved, except her skirt, and panties. She still wore her fine jacket, and the blouse that hid those perfect nipples. We thought that she would not leak much as she slipped on a new pair of panties. We had forgotten about her arse. I had been so deep, that, inspite of a good bath, and my caring cleaning, it was still full of our cum!

We both left at the same time, neither knowing when we could meet again, but sure that it would not be long, and that it did not matter if it was. I wondered if she should drive so soon after coming down from her orgasm, but she said that she was OK.

We talked later that evening. The meeting had been long, and dull, and the worst had happened again. Cum had leaked from her back passage through her clothing onto her seat. Our cleaning bills were going to be large! 

She also said, with a light chuckle, deliberately pitched to set me afire, that she had to walk with great care. She found that rolling her hips was exquisite. It must have looked extraordinarily sexy. Each step reminded her of me, so she need not have worn the French bra! 

The blessed girl must have been very sore. Neither of us was particularly surprised. My chin would have been like rough glass paper! I apologised, and she gurgled again. Then she said that the sensation was absolutely wonderful. She described how her lips were hot, almost on fire from my rubbing, but that the balm of her own juices was soothing them. She said that she found the whole sensation totally new, erotic, and very, very sexy.

Business might have kept us apart for a long time, but a week or so later we agreed to meet, for lunch, at a halfway house, a secluded village inn. 

Over lunch she whispered that, shortly after our last lovemaking, her breasts had started to give a little milk. I was in ecstasy. I am completely a breast man, and any that are giving milk round off the fetish. It was extraordinary how sensual she was. 

She sat, quietly telling me that she had come out wearing the French bra so that her nipples were as exposed as possible; yet discretely hidden beneath a casual dark shirt. 

Gently she took one of my hands, turned it to her left breast, and pressed the palm to her chest. I felt her nipple through the fabric. It began to harden. I squeezed her breast very tenderly, and my hand came away damp. A small patch of wet began to spread on the blouse. She then said that she was becoming very wet down below. 

We rushed through lunch, left her car in the car park, and found a quiet spot in a small wood. She had stripped to the waist before we stopped, so I gave her my dark wool tank top as slight cover. I knew nothing of how a girl likes to milk her breast, but that afternoon I learnt fast. 

She pulled a breast through the armhole of the tank top. That, in itself, was startlingly erotic. The woollen top was all at an odd angle, with a bare arm, the perfect globe of her breast, and the erect teat exposed. 

She took her breast in both hands, and gently massaged towards the nipple with both her fingers and thumbs. Small beads of milk appeared from several glands. 

I had not been so close to a milk giving breast since my mother nursed me. It was all new. 

Rivulets trickled down, each on a separate path. Sensuously, still using both hands, she held her now fully engorged nipple up for me to drink. 

Quietly, in a small voice, she said "please drink of me, it is all for you". I drank. Then I licked the fast drying trickles from her breast, and began to suckle like a babe. 

After a while she took her nipple from my mouth, with the care of a nursing mother. The teat slipped back behind the tank top. 

She exposed the other with feline care, gently milked it with her fingers, produced beads of milk, and I drank again. 

She explained that she had been asleep on her stomach with both breasts flattened by the weight of her body. She was sleeping nude, but was awakened by slight dampness where she did not expect it. It was milk. When she massaged her breasts they slowly filled, not to the point of bursting, as with a girl late in pregnancy, or feeding an infant, but in a sensual new way. 

She said it felt wonderful, as it always had been when she fed her children, but that being in love made it better now, than it ever had been before. 

If they slowly became too full, and I was not there to drain them, she simply milked them into her bath. It was a waste, but she was totally practical about it. This made our pleasure even greater.

I knew that she had given birth, and breast fed her children for many months. So she was not particularly alarmed by this turn of events; but she talked to her doctor to be sure. It seemed that it was quite common for aroused women, who had breast fed, to do this. Apparently it also sometimes happened to girls at any age beyond puberty, even when they had never given birth. 

The only question asked, which was were both breasts giving milk. They were, which seems to be important.

As business was not taking me near her home, we continued to meet at the half way house for a while. I continued to drink milk from those delectable teats, and we began to fuck in the most unlikely ways and places. We made love in the car, but did not find it particularly fulfilling. We began to experiment again.

She always looked best in tight waisted flared skirts, especially with a close fitting bodice that showed her glorious tits. 

One summer, long ago, while working in Venice, Italy, I realised why all the Italian Girls dating in Saint Mark's Square wore flouncing, flared skirts, which they tossed out as they sat down. Two things were happening, firstly they also wore no panties, and secondly they sat, bare bummed, on the cool marble of the seats that surround the Square. Boyfriends would move very close, apparently sitting on their hands. Well they were not. Their hands were elsewhere. We adopted the same technique as the young Italians. She would come out without panties, or remove them as we met. Anticipation of what was in store made her very wet. I could easily slip into her cunt, but the greatest fun was anal sex. It was possible to use her cunt juices to lubricate her back passage, then to gently slide my penis into her anus. 

Moving in slowly, and with great care, always reminded her of our first anal fuck. It reminded her that I had taken her from behind, without asking, while she had been calmly talking to her husband on the telephone. 

I just pushed in, and came to rest buried deep inside her bum. She continued to find the thoughts of the sensations that I caused truly erotic. It helped her relax every time. 

We would stand, with me very close behind, while, for example, she gripped a railing looking at a spectacular view. I would push, and nuzzle in, very close to her back. Remember that she was a feline creature, so she would wriggle, and purr, as we came into exceptionally close contact. 

When she was ready she would reach behind with one hand. She would slowly pull, and lift, the back of her skirt, rolling it up so it was held between us. 

To any casual onlooker, the front and sides of the skirt would look as perfect as ever, as with the girls in Venice. From a distance we would be seen as two lovers pressed tightly together in a hug, with both my hands pressing on the light swelling of her belly.

Usually, once her skirt was in place, she would gently draw down my zip, push her hand in, and gather up my raging cock. By then my erections could be so enormous that it was not difficult with one hand. She would move me about until I slipped between her legs. 

My immediate sensation would be of her wet cunt, and the lower part of her bush, gently painting my cock with her lubrication. Once I started rubbing the underside of her slit she would press her thighs together to increase the grip, expel more juices, and add to the feeling of pleasure for us both.

She always had control in a public place. 

When she was ready, and all about was also ready, she would replace her hands in front of her. She would then move imperceptibly forwards and backwards. I would keep my hips still. 

A casual onlooker would see that my hands remained flat on her stomach pressing and releasing on her dress. Her lower body would gently rock, and, in time, my steel hardness would be completely lubricated with her juices. 

She would move again, and my penis would stop at the entrance to her anal passage.

Then it only took a slight, almost imperceptible, backwards movement of her hips, and the head would snap past her sphincter. We would be locked together. Some days we would simply stand still like this for a long time. We were never hurried making love in this way. 

We stopped if a passer by might come too close, or, more often; we were just stopped to relish the moment. When she was ready she would slowly slide me fully into the Promised Land.

It was spectacularly erotic. It was very exciting. It appeared to be more so when there were other people around. As far as we were concerned, the more people the merrier. It simply added to the thrill. We had to move imperceptibly slowly, gently in and out, while she learnt to use her anal muscles to amazing effect. 

Ultimately she could bring me to an orgasm without my moving at all. 

I would continue to wrap my arms around her wonderful hips, my hands pressing on her stomach, moving up to her breasts if the time was right. Sometimes I would cum first, but the better she got at manipulating her anal muscles, the better she got at moving other muscle sets. 

Then we would quietly cum together, my sperm gently jetting into her anal canal; my friend gripping me even tighter as she came herself.

Loving, while we were away from homes, became very tender and creative.

Sometimes she would arrive looking absolutely stunning in a simple, tent like, bell like, linen shift dress with wide spaced buttons down the joint. We discovered that it was extraordinarily useful. It could be worn with buttons to the front, or with the buttons to the back. 

It was surprising how many times it became necessary for her to sit on my knee in a public place! 

After a while nobody seemed to notice, so with buttons to the front, a hand could slip between them onto naked skin, move up to hold a bare breast, or one supported by her French bra. Then I would gently stroking a nipple, milk and squeeze it as her moods changed, but finally my hand would move for my fingers to rest deep in her cunt. 

This dress was dangerous. It was a particular hazard when worn backwards. It became all too easy for her to sit innocently on my knee. She would then shift around and fidget, as girls do, until nobody noticed. 

Then my cock could be slipped quietly between the buttons, passed the edges of her dress, and into her cunt. Occasionally, she would raise her hips; slowly bend forwards, as though to scratch her lower leg, then my penis could be popped into her anus. 

We would fuck, yet to a casual onlooker, we would look like an innocent couple of lovers, with the girl sitting on his knee, enjoying the view. We would climax with others around us. 

We learnt to bottle up our emotions until we were alone. Then we could smother each other with the kisses of love. Often laughing for joy at our experiences, telling little stories of our feelings, and our observations of what had been going on around us.

Once we had climaxed we would slowly, imperceptibly, reverse the pattern of our coupling. She would be wet and dripping, but she always found that wonderfully sensual. I could be a mess, but I quickly learnt to wear dark clothes so that it would not show too badly until later!

We continued meeting, and loving, like this for while. 

We were content in the knowledge that there would always be more voyages of sexual discovery, more moments of intense love, and happiness. There were more adventures of love to come. 

We made no forward plans. We waited quietly for the chance to be together again, in a home, or for a longer time in another place. 

These chances came, but there will be more on that later.

To be continued... 

Gussie would love comments, and your votes! 

(c) Copyright Gussie - June 2003



The Dream Continues Ch. 03



Authors Note – Please read “The Beginning……..”, and “The Dream Continues” series. They may you understand this tale.

Suddenly, at the end of a hard week, I was near her home again. We agreed that I would come for lunch. She would leave the garage doors would be open. I would drive straight in. These were automatic, so they would close behind me. I would be trapped! 

As I neared her home the sense of anticipation gave me a huge erection.

I swept up the drive, round the side of the house, across the cobbles, and into the open doors of the garage. It was like entering a womb……. The doors closed behind me, I left my car, went through the side door. 

I entered the kitchen. 

She was standing to the side of the sink preparing food; she did not turn as I walked quietly in. She simply continued her preparation.

She was wearing another full skirt, with matching top. It looked like a dress. I think they are called shirtwaisters, and I had not seen this one before. I dropped my briefcase, and walked slowly up behind her, pressing my body to hers. 

She pushed back as my arms went around, and onto the flat of her stomach. Not a word was spoken. 

I pressed gently, then released my grip just enough to allow me to lift the back of her skirt with one hand. The blessed girl was naked beneath her skirt. My hand touched her bare skin. 

I could not resist the temptation. The hand on her stomach had to join it’s fellow on her bum. I gently massaged both naked globes beneath her skirt. I rolled them round and round, stretching them apart, beginning to open her bum hole. She was completely silent.

I slipped my left hand down her cleft, and round to the opening of her cunt. We were still again for a while. 

My right hand returned to press flat on her stomach, then gently, imperceptibly; it began to wriggle down passed the belt of her skirt, into the curls of her bush. My fingers slowly moved through the luxuriant, curly, silk of her pubic hair to the beginning of her cleft. She was stick hard. I stroked and rolled it under one finger. There was no reaction.

It was almost as if I could not help myself, and my fingers had a life of there own. 

Suddenly I thrust both hands to meet at her opening. Art last she gasped with pleasure as I almost completely lifted her of her feet. First both my thumbs faced upwards into her cunt. They wriggled, then they pulled her apart, one backwards, one to the front. Her opening stretched to a long crack.

She began to squirm, but still not a word had been said. 

Then different fingers from both hands plunged deep into her body. I began to use my fingers to spread juice back from her cunt, up, and onto, and then into her anus. One finger went in, a second finger followed, then three had been gently pushed fully home. Each turned slowly until she was stretched and lubricated. My fingers knew what they had to do. 

I bent slightly at the waist, still leaning against her; she pushed backwards driving my fingers further into her arse. My hand was now at the right angle. I thrust three fingers in and our, finger fucking her arse.

She also knew what was coming next; the past weeks had allowed us to couple in every way. We had learnt how to, and come to love fucking, standing here, and standing there.

She bent imperceptibly forwards. She placed her hands wide apart on the counted. I released my belt and my trousers, pulled my rampant cock over the top of my “Y” fronts. I hooked the elastic under my balls. I aligned myself with her back passage. 

I passed her sphincter, paused a short time, then plunged hard in until my bush hit her bottom. There was another gasp, and we stood stock still. 

I think we were still, and totally silent, for well over a minute. Nothing moved except the pulsing of my cocking her arse. 

Then softly, gently, and hardly noticeably, she began to move her anal muscles. It was an extraordinary feeling, nothing else moved. I still had a hand around her waist flat, down passed the flat of her stomach, and on her clit. I had not touched her breasts. 

I moved my other hand. Both were down her front in her bush, or on her clit.

I nuzzled through that glorious black hair to expose the nape of her neck. I kissed it; she slowly turned her head, and our mouths met. We kissed long and deep, with her tongue exploring. I sucked it into my mouth. It was reciprocation, like a small cock, a return, and a thank you, for the hard object buried deep inside her body. 

Not a word was spoken before we started to fuck.

She pushed back towards me as I withdrew almost to the head of my penis, then plunged back in. There was another gasp. 

As we gathered speed both my hands were playing her clitoris. Her hands spread wider, she gripped the edge harder, locked to the roll of the worktop; but she slowly bent further forwards, her legs slightly more apart. She was deliberately thrusting back onto me. 

By now her clit was fully erect, like a small penis. I put my thumbs together with their outer faces either side, and squeezed almost as hard as I could. My palms were flat on the smooth tops of her legs. I rolled my thumbs in opposite directions. Her clit began to form a corkscrew, and then I pulled again.

I pulling and stretching her clit further, and further, almost pulling it from her body. It became harder, and harder.

Then I held it between one finger and thumb, slowly rolling it, soothing it after my mauling. I used a finger of the other hand to massage the tip with a circular motion.

She screamed “I‘m coming, I’m coming, I will be over the top in seconds”. My thrusting became manic. I plunged in and out as she thrust back willing us to come together. I felt my balls tighten, and the floodgates opened. I filled her with our seed. We were completely at one. 

This act remains the most beautiful thing in the world. Nothing man, or woman, can do, to, or with, or for each other, equates to the complete sense of unity that comes when they climax together. No other experience can be as awesome as taking your loved one to the top of the hill. Arrive there together. Stand for a moment in time, then rush headlong into a climax together. Hurl yourself down the slope together. You are as one in time and space.

There are no brakes as you descend the mountain from a tremendous height. 

My cock remained buried to the hilt in her butt; I sensed that her eyes were tight shut.

She was quietly crying the tears of joy. I began to cry with her, leaning lightly against her back. These were tears of a complete, and complex union. We stood, and stood, at one with each other in body, in soul, and in spirit.

Slowly we began to move. Quietly we thanked each other, and I wiped her eyes dry. She twisted fully round, and kissed mine dry.

Then she began to undress, my penis still deep in her bum. 

She asked me to keep it there. I was still totally erect, so this was not a major problem. The only thing was that I could not see how it was to stay there as she undressed. 

She undid her belt, and pulled her skirt over her head. I had not thought of that! 

Slowly she unbuttoned the top of the two parts. She revealed that she was also bare there. She undid two buttons on each sleeve, took the end of one sleeve in the other hand, and pulled it free from her body. She repeated the action on the other arm, and was totally nude.

I simply stood, penis buried to the hilt, with my hands akimbo. I was an onlooker to a perfect sensuous feline ballet, a striptease of exquisite movement, and almost unearthly beauty.

I still had my shoes, and socks on. My trousers were around my ankles, but otherwise I was fully dressed.  I was even wearing a tie! It was time for me to catch up. I hooked off my shoes and socks. I stepped gingerly out of my trousers so as not to dislodge my cock. We were still coupled, and had been for well; well, over half an hour. I undid my tie, took off my shirt, and leant my body to hers. My penis was still erect. It had not visited for a while, so it was happy in her arse.

Slowly I slipped my hands under her arms, over her bare skin, and under her breasts. I touched them for the first time that day, for the first time in a week. I weighed each in turn, gently massaged them, but not touching her nipples. She began to purr. 

My middle fingers parted to move either side of her nipples. Momentarily I thought that they might not be welcoming, that was silly of me. They were completely erect, thick, long, hard, and as wonderful as ever. I clamped my fingers, in a now familiar movement, two on two either side of her teats.

I gently pulled on each only to feel a small bead of milk form on both tips. I gathered the nectar from each onto my fingers. I was unwilling to waste a drop. I slowly removed my hands, and licked her love off my fingers. Gently I found her nipples and milked them again. More beads slipped out. I gathered them to feed her.

Suddenly we were both ravenously hungry. 

I pulled my cock from her backside with great care. When we were uncoupled she began to finish preparing lunch. It was almost as though I had not been into her most private hole, except that we were totally at one with each other’s actions. Little was said. I laid the table, and we prepared to eat in the nude. 

Food had become an erotic adventure. 

We had started feeding each other, in public, at the posh hotel where we had eaten at the end of our second week of discovery. We had breakfasted off each other on the morning after our first night together. 

We changed the game yet again.

A huge rug was spread on the hard stone kitchen floor. Food was brought down to our new level, and we decided to eat there. 

She lay on her back, stark naked, her glorious bush exposed as her legs were slightly apart. Her smell was everywhere. I spread everything that we liked best spread over her breasts, and down across her flat stomach. 

Short curls of smoked salmon were wound around the thickness of her erect nipples. Short curls of salad were entwined into her bush. Potato salad was dolloped on her stomach, and some freshly made dressing dripped into her belly button. She lay completely still, her eyes closed. 

This may sound a little like a bit of D. H. Lawrence. No, it was entirely of our own invention. My job was to kneel beside her, to pick, choose, and hold morsels in my mouth. 

I feed her, as she needed. She did not know what was coming next. Her eyes remained tight shut. It was part of her adventure.

I took a curl of smoked Salmon from a nipple. I slipped my mouth over the end of her tear, and sucked with infinite care. A bead of milk formed on the tip. It was wiped off into the curl of the smoked fish, and gently lowered to her lips. She opened her mouth, and it dropped in. She ate. Salmon and fresh mother’s milk was a completely new, unique, culinary experience for us both.

Towards the end of lunch we began to talk, until then we had hardly spoken a word since my ‘phone call to say that I was near.

Our conversation alighted onto dildos. She wondered if we wanted to use them? Then she asked if we were interested in double penetration? It had been described in great detail, and with some ecstasy, in a French novel that she had just finished? 

We were not interested in involving another man, but we decided to try it out then and there.

A huge slightly curved cucumber lay on the worktop. We had not eaten any over lunch, so it was whole. I reached over, took it, and placed it beside her; she continued to lie on her back. It looked very big lying beside her thigh.

I slipped my hands between her knees, ran them to her crutch, and back. I parted her legs. A soft wet cunt slowly opened, her clitoris still erect, her labia totally engorged. I moved between her legs, and slowly lifted from behind her knees.

I have always been amazed how the female body allows legs to fold up, and onto, the chest. I am told it is because their pelvic girdle is at a different angle to that of a male, and, of course, everything about that extraordinary bone is set up for childbirth.

I pushed her legs upwards until they were flattening the sides of her breasts. Her teats slipped towards her middle, and remained exposed, touching the inside of her lower thighs. 

A small stream of cum began to ooze from her anus. It was very erotic. 

It was all I needed! My cock was erect, and ready for action. We aligned in unison, she closed her eyes, and I plunged my penis in for a second helping. It was my desert. In seconds my balls slapped her lower back; I pulled out to half way, and stopped.

We knew what would come next. I picked up the cucumber, and spat on it for a little more lubrication. I have not a clue why, she was soaking wet, but it was habit! The rounded end was gently offered to her gaping cunt hole. She purred, and gurgled in appreciation, pulling her legs harder to her breasts. 

More small beads of milk appeared at the end of her teats. I could not waste such a delicacy, so slid slightly deeper as I lent forward to suck each in turn. 

As I moved forwards her hands were on my arms. As I rose she gently moved them to my own nipples. She first described circles around each with her fingers, then gathered the hardening nipples between each thumb and forefinger, and she rolled them. She pulled them hard from my body drawing my skintight. I was on fire, my erection more complete.

Moving to suck her teats caused the cucumber to move an inch, or two, deeper into her cunt, but we really only started double penetration when I returned so that my body was vertical. 

At this point I eased the cucumber in, and in, by hand. I knew she was deep, much deeper than the length of my penis, but this was spectacular. It went in, I paused, I turned it a little, then pushed it further in. Finally only a few inched of the plant end were exposed. 

She described her feelings wonderfully as the vegetable slowly disappeared. It stretched, filled, and realigned her, deep into her body, until we both knew she could take no more at that time. 

I lent forward again slowly pushing my penis deeper, and deeper, into her anus. It was an exquisite feeling for us both. She was normally tight, but now the tightness was exceptional. 

I could feel the knobbles on the skin of the cucumber rubbing the top of my cock through the thin membrane that separated me from her vaginal passage. 

We were both in full, the cucumber and I, when an extraordinary thing happened. 

The outer end of the cucumber was against my lower stomach, and both my penis, and the cucumber began to move in unison. It was though I had two cocks. She was in bliss, letting out small yelps of pleasure as, time, and time again, we thought we had reached her deepest point. 

Each time she stretched a little more. Each time we went a little deeper. I was completely buried in her arse at the end of every stroke, but my cucumber member thought better. We went deeper on the next push. It was magical.

As always she knew I would never hurt her. Our understanding of each other was complete. It kept growing and growing. We were one. We had already been to a new height in the morning, so we were very gentle. I moved slowly, the cucumber moved slowly, and she began to orgasm again. 

This time our coming was sublime. I came as well. There was a deal of sperm, as I had not seen her for days, it was enough. All our energy was spent. We rolled on our sides, and my penis slipped out. I was gone. She lay still with the cucumber deep in her body. It seemed it’s natural place. 

We slept. 

When we woke she asked to see if the cucumber would stay in her cunt for a while. We wondered, and could see no reason why not. Gingerly she stood up. 

There was only one sign that the immense member was there. A very short green stump was just visible between her legs. She said it felt extraordinary. It was her huge, long, wide, green, natural dildo.

Then she tried to walk, and she knew it was there! 

Actually she waddled, and only somebody as beautiful as her could make waddling look divine! It was almost a dancing step. Her hips, and lower body, swivelled around the immense object buried deep in her cunt. It was a totally erotic sight. Sex had taken on another dimension.

We padded slowly around the kitchen both still stark naked. We cleaned up, stopping occasionally to kiss, or wipe away the steady trickle of seed that oozed from her body. Our nipples touched time and again. They had also learnt to kiss.  Once or twice I placed a finger on the end of the cucumber as we kissed. It was still in place. She sighed as I gently pushed it upwards.

We opened the windows in an attempt to air away the smells of our sex. The sight of a beautiful naked back leaning over a kitchen counter to stretch to the window latch almost had me in her again. She stood on tiptoe. Jet black hair everywhere, belly pressed hard on the counter top. Her legs were tight together to hold her cucumber in place. I did not have to bend to see the tip, or to imagine the whole length buried in her cunt. 

I waved my erection around, and simply had to lust. She knew that she was turning me on, and simply thought it funny.

When the last clearing up was done, she stood in the middle of the room, legs slightly apart. She asked me to remove her dildo. I stood beside her. A hand passed in front, down over her stomach. I wriggled, and played, my fingers down her bum. Two can play the turn on game!

I found the small end of the cucumber. I pushed it quite hard up into her cunt using both hands. She gasped, and contracted her vaginal muscles. Enough was now visible for me to have something to hold. I pulled it out with both hands, in one long, non-stop, draw.

She loved every second of it.

We had the vegetable out, and returned it unwashed to the ‘fridge.

Later still I understand that it was served in a salad, and on a salmon, at a dinner party, that she held for her husband the following weekend. I know it was never washed, or peeled, that would have been out of character. She said that everybody commented on its quality, taste, and it’s freshness.

Towards the end of the afternoon we bathed; she knew it was time for me to leave. He, who should never know, would be returning soon.

I left in a haze of happy feelings, of memories, and of anticipation of our meeting in two week’s time.

To be continued…….

Dear Reader: Gussie would love comments, and your votes!

© Copyright Gussie – June 2003 



The Dream Continues Ch. 04



Chapter 4: Erotic Dress On A Long Weekend Together

Authors Note - Please read "The Beginning..." and "The Dream Continues" series. They may you understand this tale.

A few weeks later we knew that we could spend a long weekend together. We began to plan. I had to give the keynote address at an international conference, but elected find my own accommodation. 

There were two reasons for this. 

Firstly I do not like conferences, or "conference people". 

Secondly I was in love, and wished to spend time with the wonderful person who has stumbled into my life, simply by visiting my chairman on the wrong day.

The conference was organised by an old professor friend. He assured me that I would only be needed for my own paper, then at a "brains trust" at the end. He knew that my paper would be controversial, and that it might cause many others to be reshuffled. In this case my absence might be wise.

We discreetly flew together. We booked into club class on the same flights there and back. We told the airline what seats we wanted, and she booked in very early. She looked sensational when we met in the departure lounge.

She wore a long, tight belted, raincoat, with her jet black hair cascading onto her shoulders. She rushed to me, her blue eyes full of happiness, and we kissed. 

I wondered, briefly, if we might join the mile high club!

We did not. She had been shopping, and had found my French corsetieres. She was carrying almost everything she had bought, as hand baggage. The bags advertised were they were from, and what they might be. 

This caused instant interest from our pretty young airhostess. 

Once we were seated, and as breakfast was served, the girl asked if she might see what was in the bags. She was shown a few of her purchases. One for the first things to be brought out was an exact copy of the original white bra. 

The airhostess was amazed, and did not believe that it would be possible to wear such a flimsy thing comfortably, particularly for a long time. 

That threw down the gauntlet. My beautiful companion simply unbuttoned her blouse, and peeled back one side. A perfect nipple came into view, erect, and pointing straight out just above the top line of the bra cup. If it could be worn throughout a long day, and an international flight, then it proved a point.

There was an unexpected, and sudden reaction from the airhostess. A hand shot out. It gently touched, and stroked, the nipple. 

It was very erotic, a completely involuntary reaction of beauty to beauty. 

The poor girl went beetroot coloured. She was very embarrassed.

Well she was not that embarrassed. She told all her female colleagues! 

The obvious happened, my beautiful companion was invited elsewhere; she disappeared with her shopping bags into the confines of the galley. A curtain was drawn tight shut.

I was left toying with a typical, not so good, airline breakfast. 

It seemed that every article of underwear was examined, and all had a look at the bra that was being worn. I was simply the odd man out; especially jealous when shrieks of laughter came from the pantry. 

Later I was given a blow-by-blow account of the gathering. Male cabin staff were sent elsewhere, and four girls crowded around my friend. They examined all the exquisite French clothing in detail, and then asked if the could see what our airhostess had seen. Many buttons were undone, and hands held back her blouse to expose both breasts. 

More hands touched, fingers were slipped under bra straps, her breasts were stroked, and the cups were weighed. Finally those wonderful hard errect nipples were stroked. 

That was enough, liquid formed on the teat ends. 

A gaggle of girls discovered that the breasts of a stunningly pretty passenger could give milk. 

There were immediate peals of the laughter, of delight, of glee, and of wonderment. This is what we heard in the cabin. She said that lips gently caressed the milk away before more hands helped to dress her again. 

We left the aeroplane a king and queen, with all the airhostesses lined up as a guard of honour to wish us well. She was on fire with lust.

Our hotel was close to the airport, right on the water, but a few miles from the conference centre. I had especially asked for a waterside suite, with a huge bath, a balcony, and plenty of room for me to work. They threw in a landing stage as an extra, which had me thinking. 

The position, and views from the room were breathtaking. The windows were full width and height. They slid back so that only a third of the wall was covered. We were six feet from, and three feet above the water. Far out, across the water there were islands, shimmering in the heat haze. 

We wondered if they were they inhabited?

We were shown to our room, and asked that an early cold lunch to be left outside our door. We were not to be disturbed at any time. My paper was early the next morning, and we knew what too much lovemaking might do. 

We also knew that we would then have two whole days entirely to ourselves, before I had to return for the "brains trust". We stripped naked. 

She padded around the room putting everything away. Two light hotel wraps, or housecoats, were hung on the back of the main room door in case of emergency. 

She was still in the clouds from her experiences on the 'plane. Her nipples were rock hard, she needed to cum, and she was dieing to show me her shopping. She did. 

She started with an exquisite, silk and lace, white basque. We went no further. 

She had the most perfect "hour glass" figure, and she explained that she had been told to deliberately choose this to be slightly tight. 

Apparently she went into the French Lingerie shop wearing the bra, simply to purchase another. The shop assistant remembered that I had purchased one. She started to show more beautiful things. She was a great saleswoman; almost the first thing to appear was the basque.

The two girls wanted to play. The sales girl locked the shop door, turned "Open" to "Closed", and both disappeared into a large fitting room. 

The girl explained that a basque should normally be slightly tight to enhance the wearer's feelings. She fitted one of exactly the right size. It was gently boned so that, when correctly fitted, it enhanced an already slim waist, before curving out over her hips and turning again almost to the tops of her hip joints.

My glorious friend wanted me to fit it to her. She turned, with her back towards me, and held up both arms. I passed the garment it under her armpits. I checked that each breast nestled perfectly into a cup. 

My erection was huge, I had to bend deep at my waist, or my penis would have brushed continuously against this exotic garment. 

I pulled it around her body, ensured that the inner flap was in completely the right position, and began to lace. Long lengths of the finest white silk ribbon fell to the floor. 

The first two or three lacings were into actual eyelets, after that I simply passed the ribbon around exquisitely detailed tiny hooks. I gently pulled the basque tight as I laced upwards. She purred with contentment. 

Finally I tied a bow, and it was done. I lightly touched her right shoulder, and she slowly, provocatively, turned around to face me. The cups simply stopped, like those on the first bra, just below her nipples. These tips of my desire were completely exposed.

It was an extraordinary piece of eroticism. It came complete with many extras. She modelled it with bra straps that gently touched the sides of her naked breasts, with straps that divided to hug each breast, like those on the original bra, and without straps. 

She modelled it with stockings and suspenders of different lengths, and without anything. 

It was best by itself.

I had been sitting at my desk trying to revise my paper as she modelled the various alternatives. It was impossible to work, so I motioned her to me. 

We hugged; I pulled her middle tight to my body, and kissed the silk of her amazing garment. We both knew that she had to settle after her morning experiences. 

I slipped my fingers under the lace bottom of the basque. I rolled the lower lace covered edge slightly upwards. I found her clit. It was enormous, truly like a little cock. 

I lent forward, lifted the lace curtain slightly further. I pressed my nose through the blackness of her fur, looking for heaven. I found it, and moved my mouth over it to cover her soul. 

I sucked the full length of her clitoris into my mouth. I chewed, and pulled quite violently, gripping alternatively tightly between my lips, and then my teeth. 

She stood motionless, gently purring with contentment. She began letting out quiet, hardly detectable yelps, as I nibbled, pulled, and bit. 

Suddenly, almost without warning, she flew over the top; she shuddered all over, eyes tightly shut, and slowly collapsed onto her knees. Her head rested on my lap, my penis hard against her cheek. 

She was in heaven. All her sensual senses had been bottled up on the flight.

There was a knock on the door. A voice announced that our lunch was outside. Footsteps went away. I got to my feet, my erection swinging from side to side, opened the door stark naked, and retrieved the trolley.

This was one of those contraptions that have hot and cold areas, many layers, cupboards, and flaps that opened up to make a table. I pulled it into the room. 

Meanwhile she had gently, sensuously, like a snake, or a cat after prey, wound her way, on her hands and knees, through the open window, and onto the balcony. 

She pulled a blanket from the bed, with her teeth, as she passed, and we were ready to eat.

We sat close, facing each other, cross legged, with her cunt continuing to invite me from beneath the lace of the basque. I had to work, but it was an enormous temptation. 

Delayed gratification is a wonderful concept. Since we met we had begun to understand it fully. We knew when we had to hold off, apart, or otherwise. We both agreed that I would wait my turn to cum. 

We finished lunch, and I began revising. She chose to lie in the sun on the balcony, still dressed only in the basque. It was moulding to her body, becoming another skin.

I became so engrossed in my work that I did not notice what happened next. Ever so quietly, with delicate feline movements, she had crawled under my desk. I was sitting legs slightly apart, cock flaccid, so that it just touched the chair. I felt something touch the end.

It dipped beneath the tip, and lifted it. A gentle mouth pulled on my foreskin. It was drawn from my cock. My reaction was obvious, I began to swell, so the mouth opened, and continued to draw me in. I went deeper, and deeper, as my erection unfolded, but I did not move. I tried to go on working as it I had not noticed! 

This was making her mad, not like she was when she was talking to her husband as my cock began to slowly push deep into her bum, but mad that I had not moved!

She drew me deeper, and deeper, still. 

There were gurgles as I began to touch the back of her throat. Each time I did she held her breath. She withdrew completely from me on each stroke, holding only my foreskin in her mouth. 

Somehow she began to stick her tongue in, and draw on my cock so that she was surrounded by foreskin. Her tongue became almost like a penis being covered by a human French letter. Every time this happened she bit, and chewed, then lightly scraped her teeth down my foreskin. Then she forced me back into her mouth. 

As I grew harder less, and less, foreskin was available. Her tongue continued an amazing dance on the tip of my penis. We were approaching the surreal again. I continued to pretend to work.

I could stand any more. I had to stop working. 

My hips slid forward on the seat, and she deep throated me completely. Once, twice, then I was not sure how many times I vanished into her mouth. Every time her hose was hard against my bush. I ran both my hands under her chin, onto the slope of her neck. I could feel myself as I journeyed in and out.

My balls started to convulse, and I came spurt, after spurt, into her throat 

Simultaneously she thrust her mouth even further forward. Every drop of cum appeared to pump deep down her throat, nothing was lost. Now I was also in heaven.

She stood, naked, except for the basque, proud teats jutting out from above the cups, her hair cascading everywhere. 

She said, "thank you, I said "thank you". 

She bent forward, and we kissed. I was totally taken by surprise. An extraordinary endless plume of sperm jetted into my mouth. And I was completely sure that she had swallowed it all! There was no end to her surprises.

I pushed the trolley back into the hall, and she curled up on the bed reading another French novel. I worked, editing the rest of my Keynote Address. An hour later I was finished.

I crawled to the foot of the bed, and looked at my apparition, it had fallen asleep. It had rolled quietly onto its back, jet black hair fanning out around, the book tilted in the left hand. 

It's breasts rose and fell, in that gentle swell that comes from deep sleep. Adam's apple moved more gently in unison. I blinked, hardly believed that it had, so recently, felt the force of my cock as it was pushed into the throat. She wore the basque like a second skin that pressed her breasts erotically up.

It was a scene of total content. I moved the book away.

I knelt on the floor, with my chin on the flat of the mattress, just looking. I was there a long while gazing at my apparition. 

Finally I stood to survey the whole bed. It was enormous; she looked diminutive, and very fragile. She moved again to curl up, in the foetal position, in one small corner of the vast bed. She continued to sleep at peace with the world.

I gathered my papers together, and put them in my briefcase. I was ready for the morning.

I went into the bathroom, took the phone off the hook, and made a very quiet 'phone call to reception, but more of that later.

We had both found, early on, that we had a total preference for absolutely hard beds. 

This one was the best. 

It was larger than two full sized billiard tables, and more. A pristine white sheet was drum tight all over it. There were two enormous duvets folded to about half way, and piles of down pillows at the head. 

She slept, on one small corner, where the blanket had been. There was another fine woollen blanket in the opposite corner.

It was still a glorious, warm, afternoon. The windows remained fully open, and the only sound came from the breathing of an angel, and the gentle lapping of water.

I was mentally exhausted; I picked up the soft brown blanket, slowly unfolded it, and covered her body with a single layer. She did not stir. I kissed her cheek.

I picked up the other corner, and slipped, stark naked, onto the sheet. We were many feet apart, but we were one. 

I slept.

To be continued... 

Dear Reader: Gussie would love comments, and your votes! 

© Copyright Gussie - July 2003



The Dream Continues Ch. 05



Authors Note – Please read “The Beginning……..” and “The Dream Continues” series. They may you understand this tale.

We were bathing when she told me how the whole afternoon developed after she woke.

She knew immediately where she was. 

She says that I was snoring lightly a few feet away, and that told her that we were at a wonderful hotel in a waterside suite. 

Now I know that I do not snore, as I have never heard myself. 

She stretched languidly so that her arms were straight above her head, and all the tendons in her feet were taut, with her toes as a ballet dancer on points. Her body was flat. It was a completely feline movement.

Her hands slowly traced down beneath the blanket, first touching skin at the rise of her breasts. Her fingertips began searching for her nipples. 

Suddenly she was startled, they had bent over something as she stroked from above. 

Then she remembered the basque. 

She felt around the silken cups, tracing the lacy edge just below her hard erect nipples. She ran down the panels that flowed over her body. It was her second skin, her protection. Her fingers followed the lines of the fine bone work to the lace of the lower edge.

She felt along the lace, then allowed her fingers to become entwined in the luxury of her thick black bush. Her hands stopped together clasping her mons. She hugged the delicate mound. It was her.

She lay a while, then her fingers gently moved on to touch her wetness, the palms of her hands stroking her inner thighs, before returning to her wetness.

Suddenly she became a lady of action, she rolled sideways, and slid from under the blanket to stand at the corner of the bed. She looked at herself in the full length mirror; she saw her nipples erect and proud, jutting out above the basque and her luxurious triangle of hair below the lower edge. She walked to the closet, and selected a fine silk dress. 

She slipped it over her head, wriggled her hips once, and it slid over her breasts teasing them further. It would have fallen past them to the floor, but for exquisite spaghetti straps. These brought it up just short of her nipples. It was almost as fine as a shift, but fitted over the basque divinely when she pulled the fine zip closed. 

She could still see her nipples.  She was feeling divinely sexy.

The dress was cut provocatively deep at the front, so she remembered that she would need to be careful when bending down in public. It suited her mood, as did the fine open toed sandals that she slipped onto her feet.

She made a very quiet ‘phone call, kissed my sleeping cheek, and silently left the suite. A minute or so later management were treated to the beautiful spectacle of my friend wafting across the hotel lobby.

At one moment they were sure that she was naked beneath the light dress. They could see the outline of a nipple point touching here. At the next moment they were sure that she was wearing something under the dress, but what?  Actually she only wore four articles of clothing, three if you count the sandals as one.

She introduced herself to the duty manager, and asked that the Head Chef, and the Sommelier come to meet her in the lobby. She pointed to where she would be seated. 

She turned, her enchanting points definitely visible as they swung slightly behind the movement of her rotating body. She went to a huge armchair, kicked off her sandals, and curled up to wait.

The two, the Head Chef, and the Sommelier, arrived together. They were wondering who this important guest might be. As far as they knew no celebrities were staying at the hotel. They were directed to a black haired beauty.

She explained that the room menu did not impress her. Her request was out of the ordinary. She asked their favour to prepare our evening meal to be served in our suite, and for their help choosing both the menu, and the wines. 

She said that we needed to eat at seven o’clock that evening, because of my paper. Of course they hadn’t a clue what she was talking about. But they were enchanted by her feline grace, and were only too happy to help.

Quickly all was agreed. All stood up together, she bent slightly to slip on her sandals. There might have been a glimpse of a naked breast. She turned, with a radiant smile, to thank them, and to shake their hands.  

Now guests do not normally do that, they were at her feet in awe.

Suddenly she asked if the Gewürztraminer Grand Cru could be brought to our suite immediately. She knew that I would approve, and wished to drink some as we prepared for dinner. The door would be left ajar so that no knock was needed when the wine arrived. The waiter was to come in as quietly as possible.

She left, a vision in motion of body movement, flowing silk, cascading hair, and beauty. They stood awhile in silence. If only all guests were like her.

Once back in our suite she kicked off her sandals, and padded silently around preparing for our next adventure. 

She closed the door, with infinite care, after the wine arrived. She moved to where I was sleeping. I had rolled onto my back; she gently eased the blanket from over my body, and folded it on the floor. 

Then, with a single feline movement, she lifted the shift dress clear of her head, and tossed it towards the closet. Movement of silk over the ends of her nipples reawakened the fires. She stood, dressed only in her second skin.

She slowly bent forwards, aiming at my middle, where my flaccid cock lay shrivelled against my left thigh. She took infinite care to ensure that her hair did not touch me, or to let her engorged teats brush my skin. 

She filled her mouth with spittle. Then, with the tenderness of a cat picking up it’s young, she lifted my foreskin away from my leg for the second time that afternoon. Gently she began to bring my weapon back to life.

When it could almost stand alone she took a ball into her mouth. She rolled it gently around like a gob stopper. She let it fall, then lifted the other into her mouth, and continued her quiet motions. 

Apparently this helped my stiffening stance, so she began an upward licking motion to the tip before bathing my now rigid member in spittle, and burying it in her mouth. 

I did not stir, just continued to snore lightly. When she was happy with her work she stood full tall, and stretched, before carefully placing a foot close to my thighs, either side of my body. She gazed down over her heaving breasts, past her hard teats, to see that I slept on. 

I did not move, so she gently began to work her vaginal muscles. She strained the top of her thighs apart. Her cunt had a clear view of my penis. She forced her thighs as far apart as possible, without moving her feet, and small drips of her love dropped, one by one, onto my cock, and the surrounding fur. 

It must have looked very loving, and sensual.

Then she slowly bent at her knees, with her back absolutely straight. In one continuous feline movement she dropped slowly down to bury me in her divine passage. 

She stopped, hands on her knees, revelling in what she had done. She began to milk my cock with her cunt muscles, then to rock back and forward. 

I slept on.

Suddenly she realised that she could achieve the ultimate “wet dream”. She could make me come, in her cunt, while I slept. This erotic thought set her on fire, all her sensory perceptions were concentrated on my state, but she did not forget her need to cum at the same moment.

She stopped a while, then delicately lifted each breast clear of the basque cup. She folded the cups down under her breasts, so provocatively raising, filling, and bulging, both. Her long nipples pointed slightly upwards.

She took each teat in her hands and gently milked them. Small spurts of milk shot from her nipples. Droplets entwined in the hairs on my chest, or fell through to my skin. 

Other rivulets dribbled down the underside of her breasts to the cups of the basque. 

She was almost in a trance, but completely in control. She gently guided us both to the perfect climax. She came alone, knowing that I had come alone in my “wet dream”, revelling in her achievement.

She tried to control her emotions, her shuddering climax, but it was too much for her, she had to relax as intense feeling washed over, and through, every millimetre of her body. 

She sat full deep on my cock.

I awoke suddenly startled by the additional weight. 

I opened my eyes to gaze on a wondrous apparition. It was sitting with my cock buried completely into its body. Bush mingled with bush. My cock gently pulsed in it’s cunt. 

It began to dawn on me what this beautiful being had just achieved. Small rivers of milk were dripping off it’s breast. They mingled with the tears of joy that ran down each cheek. My chest was covered in small, sparkling, white beads. 

It was it’s milk, and it’s cunt was full of the juices of our love, our sperm.

Slowly the wonderful creature began to bend forward. It took a breast in each hand and aligned it’s teats with my smaller nipples. Body met body, tit met tit, breasts were completely flattened on breasts, hair cascaded around us to seal out the world.

Just as mouths sealed together, it whispered: “Welcome back, my love”. We wept together with love.

We kissed and embraced for a long time, only my legs had moved. They bent at the knee to stop us uncoupling.

A while later, in as still a voice, she whispered: “Undress me, my love”, then we continued our kiss of fusion. 

My hands followed the contours of her body, tracing a line along the upper edge of the basque to find the bow that I had tied hours before. I gently pulled on the ribbon ends, then began to undo her one hook at a time. She was emerging from her second skin. A slow sigh sent a breath of air from her lungs into mine. 

We were content.

I parted the two panels when they were fully released, to expose her unblemished skin. My fingers traced back from the base of the basque, running up the line where she began, and it stopped.  They touched the flattened beauty of her breasts, and began a gentle circular motion on each rounded face. 

She lifted imperceptibly, and I pulled her second skin from between our bodies. 

We were naked again.

I began to wonder what this amazing inventive lover would do next. 

Slowly our embrace loosened, we stopped kissing and she sat back on my penis, ensuring, hard or not, it was deep in her cunt. But she did not stop there; she began to turn, moving her left arm continuously around so that she placed it outside my right thigh. 

The feline ballet continued as she lifted her left leg to place her foot on my left side. Her movements had become sensuously continuous. A leg followed an arm, and another, until she had her back to me. She had used my cock as a hinge pin, and it had enjoyed the sensation.

She grasped my knees. She pushed them until they were flat on the bed, then began to hug, no, to make sensuous love to my legs.

Suddenly it dawned on my slow mind what she wanted. Her rose bud hole was facing me, my penis had begun to go limp in her cunt, and she was offering the ultimate challenge. 

It was the anal sexual position that had defeated us, and caused so much agony, on our first full night together.

The blessed child had thought of everything. She had placed KY, and tissues, on the bed near my arm, before she lowered her self onto my sleeping soul. 

My response was to slowly massage all around her bewitching hole, to add saliva to my fingers, and to continue to prepare. I added jelly to both, and slowly insert the middle finger of my right hand. 

I had a feeling of complete love, of total tenderness, and wonder, as I eased in, gently rotating when it was fully home. She made not a sound.

I lubricated a second finger and stroked it in. Still there was no movement except the play on my legs. She appeared to be loving them with her luscious hard nipples; slowly passing the teat ends back, and forth, over my skin. 

Even my legs were becoming an erogenous zone. They were becoming spectacularly sensitive.

Carefully, after more soft turning, I inserted a third finger, and continued my tender ministrations. I felt she was ready, so I lightly slapped her bum. There was an almost silent yelp, and she sat up. 

Her middle rose. Suddenly my stiffening cock had nowhere to go. It was alone in the world.

My right hand went forwards to hold it. I should not have bothered, her left hand shot between her legs like lightning. She beat me to it.  She grabbed my cock, and aligned it to her hole. This was now directly in my sight, and I watched as my penis disappeared into her beautiful rounded arse. In a moment I was buried deed, deep in her back passage. She had reached her goal, and there was no pain at all.

The muscle ballet began as she let me know where I was. More importantly she sat straight upright, and her upper body suddenly twisted through full one hundred and eighty degrees. 

She wore a grin as big as a “Cheshire Cat”. It was a look of total love combined with triumph. 

Now anything was possible!

Well the next challenge was even more extraordinary. 

She turned back to address my feet, and my legs. They were told that she needed a drink, and that she saw no reason for us to become uncoupled. Yet the Gewürz was standing in the cooler bucket half a room away.

We devised a plan, slowly she lent back on my hips, with my cock still completely buried in her arse. I was tempted to hold her glorious body down, and to milk her teats as they became exposed, with her back touching my chest. 

We were to march in unison, to a plan. We started, left leg bend together “one”, rise on left foot “two, “three”, “four” and five”. Now we were standing, still completely coupled, but still on the bed. 

Right “two”, “three”, left “two”, “three”, and we were standing on the floor. 

My cock was more excited than ever, as it had squirmed around so deep in her hole of wonder. 

The Marines could not have done it better! 

We frog marched straight to the table on which there were two glasses, and the Grand Cru. She lifted the bottle, wrapped a linen napkin tight around it’s long Alsatian neck, and poured the nectar into both glasses. 

A wonderful, spicy smell of rose petals, mingled with citrus fruit, filled the air. She passed me a glass, took the other for herself, we toasted the night, and drank. She took my glass, and placed it back on the table with hers.

I was amazed that this slight body had performed such ballets of sexual wonder. It had achieved the goal that defeated it on the first night together. It had now learnt to walk around with my cock deep in it’s bum. 

It was far smaller in statue than me, yet when fully home we were one, coupled as if for eternity.

She twisted her right arm around behind my head; my left arm performed a similar dance through her glorious jet black hair. Our free arms intertwined to keep as much of both bodies as possible in contact, and my penis in it’s lodgings up her back passage. We formed a human corkscrew, and kissed. 

We kissed a long entwined coupling of love.

Quietly she announced that we were to have dinner in under an hour, and that we both needed a bath. She handed me a full glass, picked up her own, and we frog marched to the enormous bathroom. 

She took both glasses to place them safely within reach, but away from action, then lent forward. 

We remained coupled as her breasts swayed beneath her with the actions of setting water temperature, and turning the taps onto full pressure.  Gallons of water quickly filled the tub, she selected some crazy salts, tossed them in, and the whole place was overflowing with foam.

She turned and said: “You know we are not going to be defeated! We will get into the bath with your penis still on my arse.”

Well we were not. 

A plan was worked out on the spur of the moment. Almost immediately we were standing in the foam with my cock still plunged deep inside her. We grabbed the handrails together, and our bodies were submerged into the foam. We were one, and we remained coupled.  We were Marines, true to the motto “First in, Last out” and anything was possible.

We lay back, my arms under hers, and my hands toying with her long teats. I remained in her, but I was slowly shrinking in the luxury of warm water. 

I popped out. A gentle stream of bubbles rose around her waist, causing the foam to melt away. It always made her giggle.

She rolled over, emitting more erotic bubbles, we laughed again. I had filled her arse with air. 

She stretched up, her nipples dragging on my chest, and we kissed.

To be continued…….

Gussie would love comments, and your votes!          

© Copyright Gussie – July 2003



The Dream Continues Ch. 06



Authors Note – Please read "The Beginning..." and "The Dream Continues" series. They may you understand this tale.

Chapter 6: The Weekend Starts Flying

Washing after great sex had become ritualistic, but my wonderful friend was having none of this. 

She snaked up the bath, her engorged teats just brushing my skin. She bowed her head, took my right nipple in her mouth. She began to nibble, bite, and suck, until it was very hard. 

Finally, after some minutes of ministration, the tip slipped past her clamping teeth, it was my turn to yelp. 

Her mouth nibbled, and kissed, it's way to my left breast. She started again. Her left hand took the nipple that she had recently released, and she rolled it hard between her thumb and forefinger. 

I was on fire with desire.

All this time her hair was floating magically on the foam that covered the surface of a very full bath. 

She repeated her trick. She pulled my left teat hard as it slipped through her teeth. I yelped again. She took both nipples between her fingers and thumbs, to continue her torture. 

She lifted her breasts clear of my body, points jutting hard downwards. She slowly moved each nipple until they couple with, and to press hard into, my own engorged teats. 

She pressed her breasts flat on my chest, and whispered: "I want you to wash me all over, I want you to cleanse every part of me. I want you to wash my hair." We kissed long and hard.

She rolled onto her back, breasts heaving, big globs of foam sticking here and there. Those hard magical points glistening wet. I slipped my arms under hers to take a nipple between the middle fingers of each hand. I massaged them very lightly as I cupped her breasts. 

Then, for a while, I began to run my forefingers, and thumbs, slowly up and down the hard stems. I stroked and felt all the textural contours of her glorious thick teats. 

But we did not want sex again, so we soaked up the embrace of warm water. We were still.

Later she slowly slipped down my stomach between my legs, further from me, until her head was under the foam. 

She submerged, wisps of gleaming jet black hair still floating on the foam, but she was otherwise invisible. 

She sat upright as she finally came up for air, took a bottle of shampoo, and past it behind to me. I poured the sweet smelling lotion onto my hands, and, for the first time in my life, I was washing a girl's hair. 

I found it very erotic. Gently lathering and massaging her scalp, while she sat between my legs. My penis was nestling against the small of her back; I passed my hands back under her armpits and shampooed both breasts. 

Her nipples had adopted that magnetic stance, long, full, and hard. If you bent one up it simply flicked, if you bent it down, it simply flicked back. It jutted straight out. 

I wanted to look, and to play. She sensed this, so turned round to face me, kneeling between my legs. She bent forward, her tits hanging down, and I continued to massage her scalp. 

She rose so that she was upright on her knees, and I could see her magnificent, complete, dense black bush of pubic hair. I transferred lather into the curls, and shampooed them. 

My fingers entered her cunt, my right hand pulled her to me, so I was kissing her flat stomach. The middle finger of my left hand entered her arse, and I cleaned deep. 

She had asked to be washed all over, and now she was.

We stepped out of the bath, walked, hand in hand, dripping wet to the huge shower cubicle. She set the temperature again, and we continued to wash and rinsed each other under cascades of wonderful soft water.

We were having the most erotic wash of our lives when there was a knock at the door. 

An hour had slipped by. Dinner was ready.

She did not think twice. A small towel formed a white turban around her head, another huge bath sheet became her dress, and she marched out to open the door. 

A trolley was wheeled in, passed a very demure girl dressed only in white towelling. It was an even more complex contraption than the last one at lunch.

The Room Service Butter opened up four leaves to form a large round table covered in a white linen tablecloth. He explained, to my divine friend, the various hot and cold areas, and cupboards that held all the food. He lit three candles in the candelabra at the centre of the table, bid us "bon appetite", and vanished.

For once we ate at a table, and we wore clothes! We dressed in the light hotel housecoats that we had earlier hung on the back of the door. 

She kept the turban on, not caring what her hair would be like. She told me that she had an appointment at the hotel hairdresser, while I was at the conference.

It was becoming dark, the window was still wide open, but mists were forming over the water, with magic lights sparkling on distant islands. 

We slid the windows almost closed, but did not want to seal out the world. We left it two feet open, and the curtains drawn fully back. There would be nobody to see us, and neither of us cared if they did. Not us, we definitely did not!

She had worked wonders with her friends of earlier that afternoon. Gravlax went wonderfully with the rest of the Alsatian; the chef made a glorious light Champagne sorbet. Then the sommelier's choice surpassed even the Gewürztraminer, we were treated to a half bottle of Chablis Grand Cru, Grenouilles. It was nectar with lightly poached lobster.

I had eaten enough, we had both eaten enough. My wonderful friend realised that I was beginning to worry about the paper. I would have to leave at 05.30 in the morning to give it.

We tossed off the housecoats, stepped naked onto that huge bed, spread the two duvets and knelt together. She pulled one of the down filled duvets around her body, just below her breasts, and asked me to comb her hair.

I carefully combed and brushed until she was happy. It was very loving and tender. She lay down, spread the duvet out, and her hair like a fan over the down. We slept spooned together in love.

I woke once during the early dawn light to see my beauty lying on her back, jet black hair still fanned over the pillows, breast slowly rising and falling. Nothing should disturb such a picture of love; I nodded off until my own internal alarm woke me.

I shaved, and dressed in a business suit. I walked to my sleeping beauty, and gently stroked a finger around each nipple, they rose.. I kissed her eyes and lips. 

I wrote a note saying that I would be back by 12.30, and that I had a surprise for her. I placed this on her pillow, with a rose from the flowers that were already in the room. 

I thought to myself, "Not original, but it is 05.30 in the morning".

I left to do damage at the conference! 

Apparently all went as my Professor planned. I upset many people, so I beat a hasty retreat in the knowledge that I was not required for two whole days. The limousine delivered me back to the hotel at exactly 12.00. She was sitting demurely in the atrium, my black haired beauty. She was wearing the shift dress that she had worn on her first meeting to arrange our dinner.

She saw me, she jumped up and rushed towards me, arms outstretched. 

This time there could be no doubt that all she wore was the dress. She was bare footed, and her nipples were so prominent that they almost tore the silk, her breasts bounced, swayed, and jiggled erotically. 

I dropped my briefcase just in time. Bare legs, and bare feet, shot either side of my hips, her dress shot up to her waist, and she clamped her legs tight around me. 

I had a complete view of her naked cunt. I had seen that she was without panties, but hugging me so tight ensured that nobody else would have noticed.

Her arms shot round my neck, I hugged her to me, and we kissed long and hard.

A minute or so later, in front of many other surprised guests, we came up for air. 

I signalled to a bell hop that I needed him to carry my briefcase, and the three of us left for the suite. There was no question of her letting go, she stayed glued to my chest. She clung like a wild young animal being carried by it's parent.

What was the reason for all this?

Well my surprise had arrived slightly early. 

The bell hop opened the door, and we entered the room. He quietly dropped my case and left.

The windows had been drawn to one side, and the whole huge window was filled with propellers, a cockpit, the nose of an aircraft, and wings that vanished out of sight to either side. 

She uncurled her legs from around my waist, and lightly dropped to the floor. She was so excited that she rushed out onto the veranda, where she stopped looking at the seaplane bobbing quietly on the water a few feet away. 

She turned to tell me all about the arrival.

The story rushed out in an endless stream of words that tumbled over each other in her excitement. It seemed that she had just returned from her hairdressing appointment when she heard the roar of aero engines. 

A twin engine seaplane circled over the water to make a perfect landing some two hundred yards out. She had rushed onto our balcony. Heads had appeared on all the other balconies, and everybody began talk loudly, trying to guess where the plane would stop. It came straight to our jetty. 

The left hand float hardly touched the fenders as engines stopped, a door opened, and a pilot, clad from head to foot in black leathers, hopped onto the planks.

Both ends of the float were secured.

A very tall, thin, pilot walked up to my darling, took off a pair of dark sun glasses, peeled off the leather helmet, and shook out a main of natural blond hair. 

A beautiful girl said, "I'm Olga. I am at your service for the rest of your weekend".

To be continued... 

Gussie would love comments, and your votes! 

© Copyright Gussie – July 2003



The Dream Continues Ch. 07



Author's Note – Please read "The Beginning..." and "The Dream Continues" series. They may you understand this tale.

We Go Flying

Olga was in the bathroom while we were talking about the seaplane, and how it had taxied to our jetty. 

When I arranged the hire of the 'plane I had not been thinking that our pilot might be a woman. 

The thought excited me. 

My glorious black haired Friend's description of the landing, and her vision of the pilot hopping out onto the jetty. The announcement, "I'm Olga. I am at your service for the rest of your weekend." made my thoughts run wild!

Olga had arrived wearing black leathers. 

She might as well have been nude as she walked out of the bathroom. 

She wore a single coloured body skin of the type often worn by rowers, and racing cyclists. It had half length arms, and legs, with a deep scooped neck. It was difficult to see how she could have put it on, as there did not appear to be any zips.

It was a glorious shade of green. It set off her mane of blond hair off wonderfully.

It was also clear that she wore nothing else, and that she was completely shaved. I could not help staring. The skin clung to every contour of her body. Her mons was prominent. I stared, and I thought that could see the outline of her sex lips. Her largish nipples, large for the size of her tits, were the dominant feature of the end of small breasts. It was obvious that they were pierced. 

The material stretched, like the skin that it was, over the shape of a horizontal bar through each erect teat. It was almost as though she had stroked her nipples to hardness before moulding the stretch fabric to fit tightly over them.

She asked if we minded that she had taken her leathers off, and said that she would like to plan our weekend of adventures. 

She then asked if we were happy that she only wore the skin. She explained that this was how she dressed for flying in hot weather, and that she never wore underwear. She donned leathers, over the skin, again for affect, when she was actually flying.

She was completely aware that she looked particularly seductive.

My wonderful Friend confirmed her views by taking her hand, and leading her to the desk. Olga had deposited her black flight bag there as she came into the room.

I thought back to her descriptions of her visit to my French shop, when she purchased the basque, and another of her cut away bras. I remembered that the assistant had locked the shop, so that they both could go fitting. I was wondering how long they played.

I began to think of our first experiments with double penetration. I remembered how I fucked her arse, as a huge cucumber filled her cunt, like a second cock, as we made love on her kitchen floor. I was still dressed in my business suit from the Conference. My idle thoughts were giving me an erection, so I excused myself, picked up some casual clothes, and vanished into the bathroom. Just as I closed the door, I turned to suggest that we asked for coffee, and a light lunch. Apparently the girls had already done this. Food arrived while I was shut away.

I have always admitted to being a voyeur. 

I am almost completely obsessed with down blouse situations, believing that girls, who allow men to look, invariably do it deliberately. I love the sight of erect nipples against tight jerseys, and clothing.

My voyeurism does not extend to looking up skirts. Female panties do not interest me! Women without panties do.

I tell you this as Olga's flying leathers were casually tossed over the edge of our bath. The temptation was too much; I felt them. I was in my voyeur mode. They were made from the most exquisite glove leather, and obviously moulded to her body like her skin, or a pair of fine gloves. I wondered why she wore the green skin.

I could not wait to see her in the leathers. 

I emerge, less my erection, which I managed to subdue. I wore shorts, and a T-shirt. The two girls were deep in conversation at my desk. We ate, sitting around, with maps spread all over the desk. 

We began to plan what to do on the two whole days while I was not at the conference.

Olga's bag contained flight maps of the whole near area. Maps are another fetish with me, so I was instantly engrossed. I completely forgot about the chaos that I had likely left for my professor at the Conference.

We quickly found that the desk was not big enough. The maps were spread out over the whole bed area, in the correct order. Then we could see where we would be allowed to fly, and where we were restricted by major civilian airports. There appeared to be no military restrictions in any area to which we might go, and little other traffic corridors, or restrictions.

A series of islands fanned out from our hotel. We already knew that we could just see the first few, and could see their lights on the water at night. Here they were on the maps.

Olga had an extraordinary knowledge of them all. Many were uninhabited, and she slyly mentioned that she had a holiday home on one of these. She owned the island. Then she casually mentioned that she also owned the seaplane, which she kept at another Island closer to the City, and to our hotel. Her home was there.

Olga was becoming more and more intriguing!

We pressed her about her holiday home. I was beginning to think that it was all planned, and manipulated by her. 

It was about two hours flying time away.

It appeared that the only problem would be that there was only one huge room, with two double beds in curtained alcoves off, a bathroom, a second cloakroom, with a shower, and a well fitted kitchen. 

She was worried that we might mind sharing.

She said that she loved our suite as it reminded her of the house. 

The "Great Room", as she called it, had a hot tub, dining area, and a huge raised sitting, lounge area, high enough to allow people lying on the floor to see out over the water. It to had been built with full length, and width, windows that could be rolled right back. She said that she had an added advantage over our suite. The house stood alone. There was nothing alongside, like the next suite at our hotel. Therefore there was space for the windows to pull right past the end wall. They simply disappeared. 

There were other similarities, the deck outside was larger, but it was directly above the sea, as at the Hotel. Olga described how the major difference was that the seaplane jetty was to one side, so the view was uninterrupted.

We were totally smitten, and did not need to discuss anything. My darling Friend asked if we might spend the next two days, and nights there. Olga had been expecting this, and instantly agreed, moving immediately to what provisions we might need.

It was soon apparent that the hotel was used to Olga, and her ways. We 'phoned reception. They had cold packs full of meats, other foods. They had goodies, plus hampers of all else that we might need. These were set up so that guests could go to islands for twenty four hour living. We ordered enough for three, for two full days, and nights.

Olga admitted, with a grin, that she had talked to the hotel immediately the 'plane was booked. She was told quite a lot about us, and had liked what she was told. We were flattered.

The final problem was drink. She had also talked to the sommelier. She heard about my friend's visit, while I slept, and her distinctive requirements. The descriptions of my Friend's feline movements, and how she had charmed her helpers, had Olga fascinated? She had decided to save time by taking the liberty to order two mixed cases, of what we might all like. Amazingly it was on a sale and return basis.

My darling Friend, and I, were shaken when all the goodies arrived so quickly. They might have been stacked in the corridor outside our room. 

I went out to watch the loading, and to really look at what I had hired. Everything was put into the cargo area behind the cabin. 

The seaplane had five seats. There was a single one for the pilot at the controls, with the possibility of dual control in a trice. There two rows of two very comfortable looking seats behind.

Olga, and my friend, disappeared to the bathroom together. 

Hummmmmmm, I thought! 

I was wondering what might happen next. There was a great deal of laughter, and giggling, before they emerged. 

Olga was dressed in her leathers, and, as likely as not, in nothing else. 

My Friend was wearing Olga's one piece green Lycra skin. She was quite a deal shorter, and more rounded than our pilot, but stretch materials allow amazing things to happen. Again it was obvious that she wore nothing else. 

Where it was possible to see Olga's Mons Venus, there was the distinct, cushion like, bulge of her glorious jet black pubic bush. 

The Lycra coped magically with her more substantial breasts. The material obviously suited her. I felt that they had both played the odd game, while out of my sight. Her wonderful long, milk giving, teats were more dominant, and very visible. They were as hard as Olga had been.

I was glad that I had felt the quality, and the texture, of the glove leather. It fitted like the Lycra skin. But then leather, and especially of glove quality, is the perfect, natural, multiple stretch material. I positioned myself in the right light, and saw showed Olga's erect nipples, and bars, perfectly moulded to the form of the thin leather. 

It had me wondering why she wore the green, unless this was also all intentional?

We might find out in the evening.

The hotel had already said that they would close our suite when we left. It was our's for the whole time we would be away. 

Olga invited us to be seated either side of her. It was rather like being in an F1 McLaren sport's car. There the driver is in the middle, and passengers to either side. We were the same.

I wondered how she would cast off. She donned her helmet, tucking all her glorious gold locks in beneath the leather, swung the intercom plug over her shoulder, and daintily unhitched us from our moorings. She pushed us sideways with her foot, and, for a moment I thought that we might be cast adrift alone. She had obviously done this many times before. A dainty leap actually moved us further from the jetty. She swung herself into the cabin.

I have always thought that my Friend had feline characteristics. Now I was with two women with them. Olga was like a Siamese cat, long, sinuous, and continuous in her movements.

The seaplane turned silently as we drifted away from the jetty. She was totally calm. She plugged in, and called up the local air traffic control. Her flight plan was well rehearsed, and the controller knew her. We had clearance in seconds. I was very impressed.

The weather report for the next seventy two hours came over the loud speakers. It was idyllic.

We were off.

We drifted further out from the jetties as she adjusted, and checked everything. Part of this routine was to unbutton about half the upper buttons on her leathers. She stopped with buttons way below her breasts. A mirror in the middle of the windscreen was adjusted so that we could see much of her, and she us. 

I began to voyeur, and even strapped in, both girls realised it! All through the flight I would glance at the mirror. It usually happened when Olga moved to adjust a control, or take a sip of water from a drinking bottle. Every time I had a fleeting glimpse of the rise of a breast. Sometimes I was sure that I saw the peak of a nipple.

She knew, and always our eyes just met, hers with a twinkle, as I looked away embarrassed. It was a game for us both. 

My Friend also knew. She behaved very sexily, moulding the Lycra skin closer, and closer, to her body. I looked once, and felt that my cock would have pressed right into her cunt. Her knees were wide apart, and her feet together. It would have been an interesting "French Letter", stretching Lycra deep into her. 

We were many yards out, when, at last, the propellers began to turn. First one, then the second engine caught. All was well, so we began to taxi out to the area designated by buoys for seaplane takeoff. 

We had hardly made a sound until the engines fired. The second we did heads began to appear on balconies, and people came out onto jetties. They waved, and we waved back.

Neither my beloved friend, nor I, had been in a seaplane before. Takeoff was a thrilling experience, quite unlike that of a normal 'plane. We appeared to gather speed forever, before we began to break free of the suction of the water. I was thinking back through my knowledge of sea flying. 

Seaplanes were often used for early commercial long distance flights because there were no runways, but they needed a great deal of clear water.

Then I began to dream, to think of the wonderful Schneider Trophy Races of the first third of the twentieth century. I closed my eyes as we left the water, and could feel the thunderous roar, the throb from the short, stubby, exhausts on the un-silenced V12 engine that powered the Supermarine S6B. 

I was sitting in it; I was flying. I was Flight Lieutenant J N Boothman, of the Royal Air Force. I was hurtling low over the Solent, in the UK. It was 1931, and I was travelling at the then astonishing speed of more than 340 mph. I was only two hundred and fifty feet above the water, in the tiny narrow cockpit of one of the most beautiful aircraft ever made. I was winning the Schneider Trophy for the third, and last time. 

I was winning outright.

My legacy became the Spitfire, probably the most beautiful warplane ever built. 

My engine was the 1,900 horsepower Rolls Royce "R" type. It was developed into the "Merlin", and it powered the vast majority of the great allied aircraft of the 1940's. This included the wonderful P51 Mustang. It is an engine is still used in Pylon Racing in the USA. 

I was in my dreams.

I was with the girl of my dreams, and with an enigma called Olga. I knew that we would have fun.

We were airborne. Water still cascaded off the floats, as Olga turned to salute our Hotel. Had she been flying a Spitfire she would have done a victory roll. As it was we wriggled our hips, and dipped our wings, before heading out over the water.

Suddenly, some ten minutes later, we began to bank again. She pointed to a house on a near island. It was hers. It was substantial, and had a jetty, a slipway into the water, and obviously a hanger easily capable of holding our plane.

We were impressed. Our enigma was a woman of some substance.

A little over an hour and a half later we were circling over a small island set in the middle of crystal clear water. It was impossible to detect any buildings, until we passed over the trees for the last time, and turned to make our landing approach. There was the building that she had described, facing south with a jetty to one side.

I was sure that Flight Lieutenant Boothman would have been proud of the landing. 

I am no expert, but it was beautiful. 

Olga turned, she grinned, her leather top sprang open for a split second, showing the complete inviting curve of her breast, and a pert hard nipple. She made no attempt to cover up, simply turning further to my Friend to say, "Welcome to my dreams." The leather pulled right back, the whole of her breast was there for me to ogle.

It was a long and glorious voyeur.

We taxied to the jetty, gently nudging the fenders as I was told that she had at our hotel. She opened the door, and sprang out to secure both ends of the float.

I helped my green skinned Friend out. She had ensured that her long nipples were still erect. She looked very beautiful.

I stepped onto dry land myself. 

The cabin, the house, was just as Olga had described. All the main windows faced south, sunlight shone directly into the interior. It was mid afternoon, and still very warm. The sun stayed up late at these latitudes, long into the evenings. Daylight went on forever, so we would not need artificial light until very late, if at all.

Olga opened the house, and immediately pushed all windows to the landing jetty end. That was spectacular.

Suddenly she said, "I will race you both into the water, last man in is a sissy!" For a fleeting moment I thought that she would dive in still wearing her fine leather gear, but she began a lightning peel of the suit. It took her seconds. She had already lost her helmet, and suddenly she was stark naked. 

I did not have a chance to ogle, to voyeur. 

She ran the length of the jetty, and arched, in a beautiful dive, into the water. She vanished.

Moments later my jet black haired Friend was out of the green skin. It went downwards, and now I knew how it fitted. She wriggled, stepped gracefully out of the skin, and was totally nude. She followed her down the jetty, to execute a graceful dive. She also vanished. 

Olga surfaced many yards further out, and began the languid crawl of an experienced long distance swimmer. 

She was going farther, and farther out, when I decide that I had to follow.

The water was surprisingly cold, but then it was a hot day, and we were warm from flying. I began to chase after the two girl's heads bobbing up as they swum on. Both were very competitive. They were fine swimmers, and both were stark naked. 

I had to catch up. I had to see.

I did. I reached them some two hundred yards out. Both girls were treading water where it was so crystal clear that you could see the bottom, but had no idea how deep it was.

I could also see their beautiful naked bodies, magically lit as the bright late afternoon sun shone through. It cast fleeting patterns all over their bodies. Olga was completely without body hair, was thin and athletic; my Friend was sporting her wonderful bush to match her black hair.

I dived, and swam very deep. I was nowhere near the bottom, and running out of air, as Olga passed me, still going down. She was so close that she actually touched my side. 

I was sure it was deliberately playful.

I looked up to see the full, black bush between the legs of my Friend treading water on the surface. I aimed directly between her legs. She screamed with surprise as I buried my fingers straight into her cunt. I held them there a while. We kissed, and I probably filling her warm hole with cold water.

Olga had reached the bottom; she surfaced, with a breathless burst, and a gasp of air. She was holding stones to prove that she had reached her destination. We were all very close, and I expect that she had seen my hand playing in a cunt. 

She gave the stones to my friend, and took a momentary, but very accurate, swipe at my penis with the hand that remained underwater. She giggled and winked.

My Friend had not dived, and she had time to recover. Suddenly she said, "Last back cooks dinner." 

They set out for the jetty. I though that it would be easy to beat them. Great swimmers make it look so simple. Olga gave me a hard time, with her long, languid crawl. She was breathing bilaterally so could see to pace us both. She paced herself, reaching the jetty just before me. 

It was the old voyeur in me giving up. I had to watch her pull her streaming naked body out of the water, and onto the deck. She did, she did not use the steps. 

She moved in one long, continuous, graceful movement. Her upper body rose out of the water, that blond hair fanned out wet down her back. Both hands went flat onto the wood of the deck. She kicked one more time. Her glorious bottom appeared streaming water, and she turned to sit facing me legs slightly, and deliberately apart. Water poured off her erect nipples. It was a very sensuous sight.

My darling Friend would cook dinner. We pulled ourselves naked from the water, and Olga said, "Let's stay like this. We will dry off quickly in the warm air, and it saves on towels."

We agreed, and began to unpack the food, clothing, and wine from the seaplane.




The Dream Continues Ch. 07



Carrying thing from the plane gave me a chance to study both the girls in greater detail. They sensed my voyeurism, and played to it. They were very different.

I knew my Friend's body intimately, both dressed and undressed, but I had never seen her working naked in the open air. She was far more full, rounded, and curvaceous, than Olga, but she must have been several years older.

The best description of Olga would be "boyish". She was tall, and very thin. She had narrow hips, and a very flat stomach. Her bum was shorter than most girls, or my Friend would have had, if she had been as tall. Her arse was almost that of a man. Her skin was the beautiful colour of somebody who lived out of doors, and did not bother with clothes.

Her breasts were small, conical and firm, they hardly moved as she picked up heavy cases of provisions and carried them into the kitchen. They hardly bounced as she deliberately trotted back to the 'plane, timing her run as I was walking towards her. They were the same colour as the rest of her body.

Her nipples were erect from the water, and from drying off in the late afternoon air. They might also be more erect because they were pierced. Possibly we would find out during the weekend. Her nipple bars appeared to be stainless steel, but, with her tastes for the exotic, they might have been platinum, or even titanium?

She was completely without pubic hair, sporting the finest crack that I had ever seen. It parted unblemished skin between two rounded lips. Everything was the same colour.

Her hair was definitely not boyish. It was long and full, cascading, to shoulder length, not unlike my Friend's. It was fine, a completely natural blond, and appeared only to require shaking out as it dried in the air. My friend would need to comb her jet black hair through.

Six or seven boxes, and two light grips were unloaded, and we were out of the seaplane, in the Great Room. 

Olga found her keys, and went out to the jetty, still stark naked, to chain the seaplane float to the building. Apparently the thing was also alarmed, but any thief would need oxyacetylene cutting equipment, or would have to take off with the house in tow.

As she returned it was apparent that she had no intention of dressing. This suited us; we were often nude, when alone, and when making love. But the new experience was being naked with a very pretty almost stranger.

Olga suggested that tea was made, and served in the lounge area, and that is what we did. 

We three were becoming at ease with our nudity, so Olga gave us some of the history, and rules of the house. 

It appeared that the island, and the one she had shown us as we flew out, had been in her family for generations. Now she owned them both.

She had married well. His hobby was flying, with a passion for stunt flying, and fast cars. She learnt to fly with him. He always flew a bright red Pitt Special, but tragically he was killed. Somebody else clipped his wing tip, in a stunt aerobatic display, when he was too close to the ground to recover. 

His passing left her very well off, without the need to earn money. She flew the seaplane for pleasure. 

It sounded idyllic, and she had never looked for another partner. She said that she was often nude, for days on end, when at this house in the summer. It accounted for her glorious deep overall tan

I explained that we were not married, and how we met when my Friend accidentally came see my chairman on the wrong night. I was at a board meeting; we went out to dinner, and all followed from that.

We both told of our joy of sexual adventure, and experimentation. 

We explained that we both saw life as a single journey through which you only passed once. It was up to us to make the most of every day, living life to the full. 

I said that this was our first long time together. 

I had been invited to give the Keynote Address at a conference in her city. We explained that I did not like conferences, so chose the spectacular hotel well away from the centre of the city.

I expected my paper to cause chaos, so the organisers agreed that I would make myself scarce for two days.

Hence we were with Olga on her island.

She continued to explain the whole building. It was totally luxurious. No expense had been spared. Water was pumped from an artesian well deep below her island. It was pumped automatically, once a day, Italian style, into a huge cisterna high up behind the house. 

LPG was delivered to the island by a supply vessel once a year. This pumped the water, fired the heating system, and powered the cooker. All she had to do was to remember that the clocks needed a driver. She had decided against electricity, and any normal form of communication. 

She always had the aircraft communication system, and satellite phones, plus a battery powered short wave radio for total emergencies. 

This was her private retreat, and we felt very privileged to be invited to it.

We were finishing our tea when her lithe body rose from her seat very close to my naked Friend. 

Suddenly I realised that they had been touching each other all this time. Legs and arms had been pressed together. Hands had been discretely moving. Both were touching, feeling people.

It reminded me of dinner after our accidental meeting at the board meeting. We never stopped touching, first feet, then legs, then hands. We had never stopped touching since.

Olga wanted to show us everything in the house. My immediate guess was that she had designed virtually everything herself. 

She was a wonderful sight as she bent forward, startlingly stark naked, to take my darling Friend's hand. She helped her up, and both girls set out to explore arm in arm. 

This made me rise again. I suppose that the girls were used to my erection, but I was still embarrassed that the sights of their bodies set it growing again. 

I was only human! I followed, my cock pointing the way. It swung from side to side behind the two beauties, pointing at each in turn.

The design layout was very clever. 

The area behind the Great Room was almost as large again. This allowed secure storage, a big shower, and bathroom, the first huge bed set into a curtained alcove, a small walk in closet, the large central main bathroom with bidet, and another shower to go with an enormous bath, a second over large bed alcove, and her room sized walk in closet. 

We explored her closet, and I realised that my Friend would have fun. Olga had a similar view of erotic underwear, and many, many skins of all the colours under the rainbow.

She explained two more things. Two partition walls pulled out from the rear of the Great Room. They slid right across the width of the room to the front glass. The Hot Tub, and the Kitchen could become separated rooms.

She also told us of the proper sauna up the slope behind the house.

We explored the Great Room, pausing at the Hot Tub, before returning to the sitting area. The two girls dropped down together, still holding hands. This time they sat on the carpeted floor in front of an unlit log fire. It was obvious, to me, that electricity was flowing between them.

Their hands did not part as Olga stretched her free arm to a gas cock at the side of the fireplace. A built in gas poker started the fire burning, but this was no fake fire. The logs were large and dry. They were flaming brightly in a few seconds. 

Olga rose to her knees to turn the gas off.

As she moved down to the floor, she scooped three cushions off the nearest seat, and turned to face my beautiful Friend. Her right hand went out to touch the left teat. It was this same, cat like, languid, non threatening movement that I had seen as she swum. She was in complete control, but not dominating.

All her fingers surrounded the fast enlarging nipple. She pulled it gently away from her breast. 

She moved a cushion with her left hand; it was to become a pillow. It was patted, so there was a scalloped dent in the centre. My darling Friend did not take her eyes of her new friend. I do not think she blinked. She sank down, her head on the new pillow, especially made for her. She lay still on her back, legs outstretched, feet together.

I stared. I was watching a beautiful emerging ballet of love.

The right hand did not leave her left nipple. It continued a gentle pulling, and stroking action. My Friend, and I, both knew what might happen next. 

Olga had no idea.

She took the second cushion in her left hand, and placed it beside it's twin, for her own head. But she did not lie down. She dropped onto her left elbow, with her head in her hand. Slowly, as thought she was spell bound, she leant forwards. Her mouth opened, and took my Friend's erect, and now, very full right teat completely into her mouth. 

She sucked on the beautiful nipple, while her other fingers continued to stroke the left teat. Suddenly her eyes opened wide, she was startled. 

She looked at the fingers of her left hand. They were wet. She stuck out her tongue. It had milk on it. Both breasts were giving milk.

Olga was excited. She was astonished. She wriggled a little, pressing her thighs tight together. 

She asked if this was normal. She said that it was totally unexpected, and she had not experienced it before. 

My Darling lifted her head and kissed her full on the mouth. Olga was told that it was normal, for her, especially when aroused.

Quiet whispering went on between the beautiful girls. The one was, tall and thin, beginning to explore her new sensual lover. 

It was explained that lactation happens to some women, and that we both loved it. Olga was invited to feed. My Friend took her right breast between both hands. It was held up. She began to draw milk from the right breast, replacing the holding hands with hers. She stroked it with infinite love and care.

My Friend told Olga that I was a complete breast fanatic. 

She had already noticed. This caused them both to giggle, and Olga to say that she had wanted me to suck on her tits since she saw my voyeuristic nature. She admitted that she loved my looking at her breasts in the seaplane. 

I had guessed right. She was deliberately provocative.

I was being invited to join the party. A hand was taken away from a breast, to be replaced by one from my Lover. It would be impossible for me to suck Olga's tits, so long as she continued to nurse first the right breast, and then to move to the left nipple. 

My treat could wait, and other things were happening.

Firstly I was now huge, my erection jutting out for them both to see. Secondly Olga bent her left leg, at both the hip, and the knee; she slowly moved her legs apart. She was exposing herself again to me, the voyeur. I had a short view as we left the water. Now I feasted my eyes. Her whole sex was as nude as her mons, and her clit, and she was spreading herself for me. 

Her clitoris was obviously growing with excitement. It had become like a small penis, thick, smooth, and more rounded as it pushed her hood out of the way. It jutted straight out. Her outer lips were like the first guarding ramparts. The inner ones were as neat as the rest of her body. She was trim, naked, and swollen. 

I feasted my eyes on her wetness.

I knelt at their feet. Olga moved her lower, right leg a little away from my Friend's right leg. 

She, my Friend, began to move her bum. I saw a chance, and picked up the third pillow. There was instant recognition of my intentions. 

Her bottom was raised off the carpet as she moved. I doubled the cushion up, and slipped the two thicknesses under her arse. She was some inches off the floor; her back was slightly arched, peaking at her mound, and capped by that beautiful curly black bush. It was an extraordinary sexy sight.

Olga finished suckling on the right teat. She whispered to ask that she might continue. She need not have, so she stretched over to take the left tip into her mouth. She sucked milk again. Her eyes were closed, like a newborn kitten. I guessed that she was purring.

One girl, whom I hardly knew, had deliberately opened her legs to expose her sex to me. My long term Friend slowly began to move her left leg away from her right. It was an invitation from them both. It was an RSVP. My best response was to lie on my front, with my penis pressed against my stomach, and to help them both to orgasm.

Both girls lay with their legs wantonly apart, the most private parts of their bodies open to my gaze, silently asking me to participate. 

I lay on flat, with my chin on the thick carpet, and ran my fingers up Olga's right inner thigh. I stopped just short of the first change in contour. I traced my middle finger lightly up and down the boundary. There was a slow, gentle response. I ran the tip of my finger across the rise that I had first seen hidden behind the stretched fabric, when she walked out of the bathroom at the hotel. I traced down the other edge to a point opposite where I started. I removed my fingers altogether.

Her responses were quickening.

I dropped a large glob of spittle on the tip of my middle finger. It began to move, so I had little time to take aim. I just managed to deposit all the goo onto the tip of her clitoris. It began to slide again. She was responding faster. I pressed down on the hard tip. It began to move inwards, but it was so thick, and stiff, that it flicked sideways. 

Now it felt larger than my middle finger to the first knuckle. 

I began to rotate around the base. Her clit grew longer. It grew thicker. I pressed two fingers deep into her flesh either side of her clit. It grew longer.

She was forcing her thighs, and legs apart; she was ensuring that she was completely exposed.

All this time my other hand had been walking over familiar territory. It was a journey of love, while my left hand went exploring new territory. My Friend bent her right leg up to a similar position to that of Olga. 

They were both open to me.

The tips of my fingers went a walking; they traced the edge of that delicious forest of black. They found individual curls, and plucked them from their owner. She squealed. She loved it. They pulled again and again. Her forest was thick, she continued to squeal and yelp.

My fingers walked into her love cavern, traced around the outer rim, then began to move up from the valley of life. 

They dragged lubricant with them, but I wanted more. I added spittle to my other middle finger, and deposited it in the forest. I found her clit, and began a dance of love. It was circled, pressed inwards, and pulled gently between my first finger and thumb. 

Her response was to gurgle and hum. She began to hold Olga's head to her tit with both hands. 

She whispered pull it, bit me, suck it. 

The commands may have been to both of us, but only one could suck. Olga responded, and I watched her teat stretched far from her body. 

It reminded me of the first anal fuck we ever had. She was talking on the 'phone to her husband. I had buried my cock deep in her arse, waiting for the conversation to stop. She was on one hand, holding the 'phone in the other. I had milked both tits almost to the surface of her bed, stretching and stretching her, over and over again.

Olga held on with her teeth to the last millimetre, then the tip broke free. It flicked back into her breast in an instant. A mouth followed quickly, and the stretch was repeated. It was beautiful to watch.

I continued to massage both clits. This was new territory, and I knew they had to orgasm together. 

I looked at Olga. Her clitoris was still growing. I massaged it, gently stroking up one side, around the tip, and down the other. She was beginning to make yelping sounds as she let go of a teat. She transferred back to the right breast. My Friend ran her right hand through the golden hair.

It was a picture of great beauty, and I might just have been in control at that moment. I might have, for I was in virgin territory with Olga. 

My senses were working with my Friend; she was seconds away from her orgasm. They began to tune into Olga's changing state. Suddenly I had both girls rushing towards each other. They charged headlong, and met in a crashing, dancing climax, that took me completely by surprise.

A golden head of hair was crushed into my Friend's right breast. A face was mashed against a flattened tit, by two hands. Olga curled up into the foetal position clamping my hand in a vice like grip between her thighs. I could feel the teat of her clit, but I could not move. I was totally at their mercy.

The other legs did the same. 

My hands were locked between the thighs of two beautiful women. I simply lay on my front, my chin on the carpet, and my penis throbbing beneath me.

Thighs kept me locked to them. It was a wonderful experience.

Olga's head was released, and two faces came together to kiss. They smothered each other in new found love.

My hands were almost numb when both girls began to ease the muscles of their thighs. 

Olga lifted her legs slightly, and I passed my fingers slowly up her cunt lips, over her hole, and out, to brush against her anus. Playfully I pushed gently as I paused, but I doubted that she noticed. My fingers traced back on the same route, and were free.

They were still smothering each other in kisses. Still coming down from their climaxes. Each, in turn held the other's face, and kissed closed, fluttering eyelids. Fingers traced the contours of faces, then drew lines down their neck, over their chests to circle breasts, to touch nipples again. 

My Friend arrived at Olga's pierced nipples. She took a bar between her finger and thumb, and moved it backwards and forwards, then round and round. Finally she pulled gently, stretching, and narrowing the teat. Olga responded by kissing her on the lips. Her nipples were obviously very sensitive, and of great interest to my Friend.

Now that my hands had completed their task I rested my chin on them, and watched their ballet continue from below. I placed my chin against my wrists, and held my hands away from my skin. The detail differences in their aromas were extraordinary, one I knew well. The other was musky, more pungent. I wanted to see if taste and smell matched.

Suddenly, together, they remembered me. Both turned, in unison, to thank me. I was flattered. It had been an enormous pleasure, a participation that I would not have missed.

I moved onto my knees. There was a patch of pre-cum where my tip had been, and my penis was softening. The fire needed attention.

I crawled round to the side of the hearth. Logs were stored under the side. I began to move them about.

I felt a hand move between my legs as I began to pull one, or two logs out. Long fingers, longer, and thinner than normal, not ones that I recognised, stretched forwards, and delicately surrounded my cock.

They held it gently, and it began to respond.

The fingers, their owner, and I, could begin to play a game that I had played with my darling Friend. 

I tried to ignore the fact that they were beginning to wank, up and down, and stroke my member. I continued to pull logs out, and toss them onto the burning fire. Two went onto the flames. I pulled three more out, so that they would be ready later. 

I looked behind me. Olga was kneeling, leaning far forwards, resting on the other hand. She had positioned herself so that either hand could pass freely under my arse, or around my waist. 

Her hair was touching the ground, and her eyes were staring between my legs. I felt that she was in a trance, and did not see that I had turned.

I looked over at my Friend. She was watching, engrossed in the actions. She nodded, winked, and smiled, recognising my game. I had her permission to continue.

I did. I picked up a very long poker, and began to move logs around. I was desperately trying to ignore an expert.




The Dream Continues Ch. 07



The hand between my legs moved back to cup my balls. They were weighed, filing the small palm, then fingers closed around my scrotum. They were very gentle, stretching, and massaging. 

My cock was responding, yet I was ignoring the wonderful actions.

I moved more logs around, before putting the poker back, and picking up a long handled shovel. I began to move ash to the side of the fire. I could continue doing this for some time.

The hand was removed, and I sensed movement, rather than hearing it. The next thing I knew was that I felt cold air being blown onto my balls. The fingers and palms of two hands gently brushed the inside of my knees. My parted legs were being pushed wider. 

Having accomplished a task the hands stayed in place, and I detected more movement. There was a pile of magazines close by. I picked one up and began to thumb through it as nonchalantly as I could.

By now my cock was rampant with expectation. My balls hung low in my scrotum, and I remembered that I had not cum for twenty four hours.

I had never experienced what happened next, and certainly have never since. Her mouth must have stretched to an enormous, almost double jointed opening. The cool blowing slowly stopped, and, without warning, my whole scrotum was devoured. I was completely in her mouth. 

Had she chosen, she could have bitten me off.

I felt like an oyster must feel as it is savoured before it is swallowed, alive and completely whole. 

Could I continue my charade?

Gently, slowly, and with infinite care her tongue began to circle my enclosed bag. I had to almost fill her mouth, but she still managed to savour every inch of the surface, rolling each individual ball, parting them with her teeth.

She removed her hands. One began to trace from my balls to my tight, closed anal hole. The other started to play tunes on my rampant, steel straight cock. It found the tip; two fingers opened, and closed a short way down. They applied the perfect pressure necessary to milk pre-cum to my hole. 

I was watching out of the corner of my eye. I continued to pretend to read. 

It was gathered, rather as I had watched her milk my beloved Friend's teats. The nectar was taken, and used to lubricate her roving fingers.

She was tall, and thin, but, even then, by my calculations there was not room for her shoulders between my legs. I felt her lift from the waist, her shoulder blades were then on the back of my calves. These are muscular, but were relaxed, and soft. She would not have been too uncomfortable.

Her mouth was as far forward as she could move, her nose close under the base of my stiff member. One hand continued to milk, and stroke, to the tip of my cock; the other slowly gathered more juices from her mouth, and began to play a dance around my arsehole. It was an expert; it circled, it moved to the middle, and applied pressure.

I detected movement, where my Friend was; she rolled over, and crawled out of my sight. She must have been close to Olga's legs.

Suddenly Olga stopped caressing my balls in her mouth. She nipped the last few millimetres of skin as it slipped between her teeth, the sucked it hard between her lips. It was a wonderful feeling.

My scrotum glistened and gleamed as though it had been varnished.

The hand on my cock bent it hard downwards. It began to strain, and I had to bend slightly to relieve the pressure. It was the first indication that she had that I knew she was there.

She bit quite hard into the solid body of my member, and stuffed her very wet first finger completely into my arse at the same time.

I was totally taken by surprise!

Having bitten hard she was gentle. Her teeth dragged seductively the full length to my tip. They lightly followed every contour of the top and bottom form, moving divinely over the hard roundness of the bottom surface. Then she plunged back, possibly five inches, replacing her teeth with her lips.

It was a wonderful feeling.

The finger in my arse began to stretch to my prostate gland. Somebody else applied more lubrication, and I realised my Friend was involved.

I tried to continue to ignore the two beautiful women who were now determined to make love to my body. I was loosing the battle. Too many emotions, too many memories, and feelings were becoming involved. Too many of my erogenous zones were being attacked.

Hands stretched under my arms, two fingers clamped around my nipples and began to massage, then pull me. I was being stretched as I had seen the girls stretch each other. I was being stretched by hands that knew that their tunes, and the music they created sent me over the top. And over I went. My penis was deep in the mouth of beautiful Olga. The upper part of my Friend's body pressed hard against me, her hips pulled away so that Olga could continue to massage into my tube, and fuck my arse with her finger.

I pumped and pumped into that glorious mouth, and thought that she must be swallowing it. 

How wrong I was. She pulled away. She slid playfully between the legs behind her, rubbing her nose along my Friend's crack.

She wriggled out, and rose onto her knees. The two girls kissed, and Olga transferred a little of the seed of life to my Friend's mouth.

Then she came to me. We kissed, and a huge plume of sperm half filled my mouth. During this time my beloved Friend had rolled to one side, her head level with my shrinking penis. She took it into her mouth, and completed sucking it dry.

Now sperm went everywhere. 

It was a wonderful "thank you" from two gorgeous women, for helping them to their climax. Both sensuously dripped it into the palms of their hands. Small pools of my liquid were applied to, then completely massaged into their breasts. They massaged themselves, then added a little more, and treated each other's teats. It was totally erotic.

I was not left out. I was in the party, we were kneeling in a small circle, and my tits were treated in the same way.

I remembered again that this was a twenty, to twenty four, hour catch. I had been full of sperm, and Olga had gathered it all. We simply bathed each other in it. Olga poured more from her mouth, when our hands ran dry.

Olga took sperm, dripped onto her fingers, and circled the teats that had been giving her milk. 

She pressed both palms at once into my Friends erect peaks. A slight vacuuming noise, a squelching sound, could be heard over the cracking noise from the logs. Her hands sucked the tips out from their squashed position. Then they began a sensual contra rotating motion, until both breasts glistened, painted with fast drying sperm.

Mutual massaging gave me the opportunity to feel Olga's breasts, and then to hold her nipples. 

It was a wonderful journey to new ground. Experienced as I was, this was new. I had not felt anything like them before. Her mounds, her small conical peaks were hard, and firm, but soft to the touch. 

Her teats were smaller than those I knew best, but full, and capped by her bars. She had been pierced far down the fully erect teat. The ball ends of her bars were close to where the cone became a nipple. I do not know how else to describe them.

I lent forwards, to gaze in wonder, then my mouth opened, like that of a zombie. I tilted my head slightly, and my teeth were behind her bars. I pulled slightly, and she loved it.

My friend took the last offering from Olga's mouth. She dropped her hand, letting the mixture of sperm and spit run down her fingers. They traced up and down that naked closed crack. They touched the tip of the still visible clit, and ran all their way around between Olga's legs. They paused at her cunt and went to her anal hole.

Her sex was wetted form end to end. Was it an invitation to share?

Slowly my sperm dried on all our bodies. As Dr Samuel Johnson replied when told, during dinner, by a female member of the British aristocracy, that he smelt. 

His reply was, "No Madame. You smell. I stink!"

We stank!

Sex was everywhere, and it was time for dinner. I took my Friend in my right hand, I held Olga by my left, and we stood. We kissed again, and walked to the hot tub. We all kissed again and again, touching each other all over, until we reached the tub.

I hoped that the filtering system worked, and was sure it would. 

We sank, stinking of sex, into the wonderful embracing liquid...

To be continued...

Dear Reader: Gussie would love comments. Feedback is a great help, and the occasional vote!

(c) Copyright Gussie – August 2003



The Dream Continues Ch. 08



Authors Note – Please read "The Beginning..." and "The Dream Continues" series. They may you understand this tale.

Olga And Eating Figs!

We had only been in the Hot Tub for a few minutes when my Friend said that she should start to prepare dinner.

We continued our mutual touching, which started when we began to cover each other in my sperm. This time we used the bubbling, warm water of the tub to wash the smell, the gorgeous, erotic stink, of our sex off each other.

Olga, and I, ran our hands all over my Friend's wonderful body. 

I became more, and more, interested to see how attentive Olga was to her. I knew her body intimately, so I withdrew, and watched. One of my hands was resting on Olga's naked, boyish hip.

She weighted each breast individually. They are totally different in water, much lighter. She took great care to remove any dried runs of milk. 

There had been spills as my Friend began to lactate, and before she began to suckle. Trails of milk that dried quickly in the warm air, and on aroused skin. Several had not been absorbed into the sperm as it was massaged all over her body. They had not mixed during the cum bath. 

She cleaned each long, hard, teat individually. She kissed, and sucked, before running her long tongue over them both. She did not expect milk.

Her fingers traced delicately down, over a flat stomach to my Friend's sex. 

They ran through her glorious wet forest; they explored her jungle. They found her clitoris for the first time, pausing to explore her hood and the intimacy of her growing clit. They continued on, opening up a pathway down her valley, past folds of warmth, to let warm water into her hole. They turned the corner, and two entered her cunt surrounded by water.

It was a scene of great tenderness.

Finally Olga had finished, she said, "You are clean. Now you can cook us dinner. There are towels over there."

"I suggest something simple. Fillet steak, a salad, and a bottle of Beaujolais. It will have travelled well, and it can go into the cooler for a while."

Then she added, in a very quiet voice, "I will be lonely tonight, after this afternoon. I would like you both to share my bed."

It was that gentle dominance again. 

She had to have control. Yet I was watching two lovers on equal footing, and she would be up against a powerful mind.

I think that my Friend may have been expecting the last statement, on loneliness; I was not. I looked at the wonderful slim girl, naked in the bubbling water. 

She was shy when she asked us to share her bed, and was blushing under her overall deep tan. There was a slight nod. It was agreed; it was logical.

My Friend wrapped a towel around her body, and left Olga, and I washing each other. 

We began to talk as I explored her body beneath the foaming water. 

She said that she had brought couples to her island before, but this was the first time there had been a total synergy. She was fascinated by our togetherness, by how we moulded our thoughts, without having to ask one another.

It transpired that she had watched me carry my nymph back into the suite, when I returned from the conference. 

She was also a voyeur! 

She had asked my Friend if she might wash after she had arrived, and announced her self. She went into the bathroom, and had started to watch my Friend dress to go to meet me, through the gap in the door.

She watched entranced, as she stood naked, in front of her line of hanging clothes, wondering what to wear. She could see her back, and the whole naked side of her body, through a full length mirror. She watched her take hold of her breasts, massage them, then stretch her nipples. She pulled her teats far from her body. 

Olga said that they were actions that she made herself when alone. She found herself imitating the spectacle. She pulled the tip of each nipple, squeezing them tight between her thumb and first finger. Then she stretched them by pulling on her bars.

It was exactly what my Friend was doing, except that she was not pierced.

She saw my Friend select the simple silk dress, and thought that she might have recognised, from the Head Chef's description. It could have been the favourite that had been worn to the meeting in the foyer. 

It was dropped over her head; she wriggled once, and it was on. She saw hard nipples actually grow again when my Friend drew the dress tight to her breasts, dragging the fabric over her already hard tips.

Then she simply skipped out of the room with nothing else on.

Olga said that she came out of the bathroom quite breathless with excitement. She began to hope that I would also fit the pictures planted in her mind by the hotel staff's descriptions. 

I refrained from asking if I did!

She decided to hide from us, but to go on being a voyeur. She heard us coming. She rushed back into the bathroom, and watched, from behind the door. 

She laughed to herself, as I carried my baggage into the room. I was followed by the bellhop carrying my brief case. Its bare legs were tight around me, and the dress was pulled up to well above its waist. She knew that it was naked beneath the dress, only the cut, and droop of the rear covered a bare bum. 

Wickedly, amusingly, she hoped, to that my suit was being wetted by a cunt that must have been wide open. I had not looked.

It was then that she decided to take the leathers off, and to make sure that the Lycra skin fitted her everywhere. She stripped out of the leathers, and had great fun moulding the skin fabric to all the contours of her body. 

She pressed her fingers into her naked, hairless crack. She hoped momentarily that any wetness would not show through. Then she decided that it did not matter. 

She moulded her teats into the material, pulling the ends of her nipple bars to ensure that they were part of a clear profile. She pulled the material tight to the cones of her breasts

I began to touch Olga all over, as we continued to talk. Now my Friend, and I, are completely touchy, intimate contact, and tactile people. It was obvious that Olga was one of us.

I stroked her tits with great tenderness. They were totally different from my Friend's. I was looking closely, intimately, at a pierced nipple for the first time. 

We talked about her piercings. I asked, all the normal, silly questions that must bore people, who are pierced. I questioned her if it hurt, when the needle went through; I asked if it helped to make her teats more sensitive. 

Then I asked why she had them pierced.

Her answer surprised me, until I thought about the girl, and her lifestyle.

She said that she regularly had boyfriends, and some girlfriends, but had never found a person for a long term relationship. She was a lone, single girl, for long periods. She often came to her Island when alone. 

Here she spent days completely in the nude, walking, bathing, doing the "Island things" that kept the whole place so beautiful.

She would work hard all day, then she was very lonely in the evenings. 

I felt for her in her anguish of loneliness. This beautiful girl, with a lifestyle beyond most people's imagination, yet she was alone.

I stopped touching, and took both her hands into mine.

Again she blushed shyly as she explained that she was very highly sexed, and had to make love to herself on a regular basis. She had dildos, and other aids, but sometimes these were not enough.

One day she was desperate. She had to cum, but could not reach a climax. She put her favourite classical music on her battery powered CD player. She organised her mood provoking everything.

She just became more desperate.

She was rampaging through the kitchen in her plight when she found some clothes pegs. Suddenly she knew what she had to do. She grabbed her left nipple, and tugged it away from her breast. She clamped the peg deep on her fast filling teat. She grabbed the other tit, and did the same. She had one peg sticking straight out from each nipple. 

She tore back to her bed, threw herself full length onto her back. Her tits wobbled with the slight additional weight of the erect clothes pegs. She forced the largest powered dildo as far as possible into her cunt. She did not have to massage her clit.

She came immediately she touched it, quickly, long and completely. She loved the new feelings.

She continued to clamp her nipples with pegs to increase her arousal. Then, a little later, there were times when this was not enough. She hooked a rubber band behind each clothes peg, and pulled them with her thumbs. She needed a third hand, so she tied a length of string to a bedpost, and threaded it through her rubber bands. 

Then she could lean back, pulling her teats as far as necessary to stimulate herself. She used a dildo, and her fingers to bring on a climax

This worked for a long time, until suddenly she realised that she could have permanent hooks, by having her nipples pierced.

The thought excited her so much that she pulled very hard on her clothespins. She came very quickly.

She had both nipples pierced on her next visit to the city.

I began to play with her right teat, turning the bar round and round in it's hole as she talked. 

Her shyness subsided; she rolled over to lie with her back against my upper body. I took a nipple in either hand, and played a dance on the ends of her teats, moving down their length to play with her bars. I kissed the top of her golden hair.

She murmured in contentment, and snuggled closer.

She continued the last chapter of her story of why. The piercings were very deep, close to the base of each teat. It was just what she asked for, and allowed her to hook her nipples to two spring loaded threads. It helped her in her lonely climaxes.

I thought how many single people might fully understand her needs, and loved her more for her simple, frank explanation.

Many noises were coming from the kitchen. I saw that my Friend had dropped her towel, and was naked again. She began to set the table, and threw two more logs on the crackling fire. 

She padded around, stark naked, in a world of her own. She was enjoying cooking simple food.

She had discovered Olga's CD player, and selected a Mozart Piano Concerto. We could just hear it. Olga asked if they were our favourites. I said, "Yes", we loved them all; the playful tinkering of many suited our love.

Olga relaxed her arms, and I moved my hands down over her distinct totally naked, pubic bone, and on into her crack. 

She murmured more contentment as I reached her clit, and used both hands to wash her intimate, and beautiful parts in the warm water. I ran a finger of both hands up and down her simple folds, and just into her cunt.

I moved one hand under her, and reached for her anus. She murmured more musical noises as I pulsed it in and out, playing on the outside. I pushed deliberately, the tip of my middle finger just penetrated her hole, then I pulled back.

She hummed contentment, and said, "That was nice, please may we try it more. It is new to me."

She was clean.

She rolled over; I moved my legs apart, and she knelt between my knees. She lent towards me. 

Her breasts were wonderful; they did not dangle, like my Friends. They did not form that beautiful shape of complex catenary curves, when there is slightly more weight below the nipple than above. They stayed cones, round at their base, sharp on her chest. They were like twin Mount Fuji.

The cone shape of her breasts continued through the change of pigmentation, and through her areolae. They stopped rising abruptly at her bars to form her pert hard teats. These stuck straight out proud, and at right angles to her body.

I gazed at both her breasts visible in perfect, exquisite detail.

She bent towards my right nipple, her mouth opened, and she took my teat between her teeth. 

She pulled back, as she had done with my Friend's nipples. She held on until the last minute, let go, and returned to suck, to sooth. She repeated her exquisite light torture on my left nipple before returning to my right one. 

She continued to alternate. My nipples grew harder and harder. My erection was enormous. 

My hands were also busy. I stretched around her arms to find her breasts. My fingers slid down her wet cones to the tips. I held the round ends of her bars between my first and second finger, and pulled. 

We began to time our pulling, and release. It was our time to sooth, and our time to be hard.

We were setting each other on fire, and wanted to include another. Quietly Olga told me that I was clean. We should dry, and have dinner. She climbed out of the Tub and started to dry herself.

It was this gentle dominance again, the firm, "I am in control of my life". It went unspoken, but was always there.

She continued to dry herself. Fleetingly I wondered if I had done something wrong?

Outside the evening sky continued to be amazingly light. It was windless, and warm. The sun was still many degrees up in the sky. The windows were out of sight, and the fire crackled invitingly on the open hearth.

The water was mirror calm.

My Friend had excelled herself. The dining area was to the window, or waterside of the fireplace. 

We would all feel it's warmth, and she had piled logs high. She had also found the stainless, chain mail safety curtain, which could obviously be drawn completely around the whole hearth.

It could also be used if the heat, from the blazing logs, became too much for us.

The table was laid out with a three perfect settings of fine lead crystal glass, white linen and bone china, with silver cutlery. And this was beautiful, modern, Sterling silver of a famous Georg Jensen Design that we knew well. 

We all agreed that we should continue to be naked as we ate. Olga thanked my friend of her care in making dinner, and asked us to sit either side of her.

The food was all beautifully displayed in the kitchen area. Steaks were ready to cook; there was a bowl of hot buttered new potatoes, and glorious mixed salads waiting in large bowls. 

My Friend explained that the salad did not contain "rabbit food", lettuce as others call it. We had always found that it splashed. We explained to Olga that this might not be pleasant if we were nude. 

She giggled, and placed her hand lightly on my Friend's forearm. They were both laughing at the thought of salad undressing. 

She had delved into all the boxes of food prepared by the hotel. She was amazed to find an egg crate full of the most perfect Black Turkey figs. They were ready to eat, so she had placed them onto a large china plate. They were already on the table. They would be our dessert.

Medium rare fillet steaks were cooked in seconds, we helped ourselves to potatoes and salads, then we were ready to sit down to eat. It was all totally natural, except that we were all stark naked.

Olga placed her plate where she would be sitting in the middle, and suddenly disappeared into the bathroom. She returned in seconds with two simple, fine short chains, looped from bar end to ball end on each nipple. They were slightly different lengths, and enhanced her breasts wonderfully. They rocked with all her movements.

She was carrying another double row, gold chain in her right hand. It was somewhat similar, but had slightly heavier links. She walked behind my friend, lent forwards, and fastened the chain around her neck. She bent further to kiss the clasp, and whispered, "I want you to have this."

The chains at her nipples hung in elegant loops.

As she sat down she told us both how happy she was that we were with her. All this had taken seconds. 

The meat was still searing hot from cooking, and the delay had allowed me to draw the cork from our bottle of Julienas. A fruity, flowery smell surrounded the table. The cooled wine would suit our mood. 

We began to eat. 

Conversation ranged over great meals that we had all eaten. Undoubtedly this one would be included on our list.

We told Olga about our first dinner date. We spoke of how I had been to my favourite French Corsetiere, to purchase the cutaway bra. My Friend mentioned that she had brought it with her, and one or two other choice things.

We both sensed, and felt that we were ready to be very intimate with Olga. So we explained that I had not cum for a week, when I gave the bra to my Friend. We told how she put it on immediately, standing in the entrance hall, and how we made love in front of the fire. 

We told how she had leaked cum, through all her clothes, onto her chair in the restaurant. How our waiter realised, and had became so attentive. We described running out of the very smart hotel fast. Then we stopped in the middle of the car park laughing, while cum pooled on the ground between my Friend's legs.

Olga laughed, and laughed. She said that she knew all along that we were kindred spirits.

One bottle of Beaujolais was followed by another. We should have put two into the cooler, but "au chamber" was OK as we became merrier.

I cleared away the meat plates. Olga, and I, helped ourselves to more salad on our side plates. She fed me small tomatoes as we returned to the table.

Then it was time for desert. I cleared away all the rest of the dirty plates, and pushed the figs to the centre of the table.

My Friend, and I, were surprised when Olga said that she had never eaten fresh figs. We both saw them as one of the great delicacies of Northern European gardens. Hot countries grow figs that are all somewhat the same. They are usually boring, and have similar rather dull tastes.

Black Turkey was introduced into the British Isles by the Romans. It will grow in profusion in any English garden, but it needs to be treated roughly. These figs were perfect. They had been grown in hard conditions. It was obvious that they had been picked when still just turning from green to greeny blue. All would be slightly different in taste, and texture.

Now they were a deep purple.

Shyly, quietly, Olga asked how she should eat them. I explained that we both loved to believe that they were an aphrodisiac. We usually peeled one for each other, then fed the opened fig into the other's mouth. 

Olga asked how we did this? I told her that I would demonstrate.

I selected a perfect, large fig from the many on the plate. It was green at the stem, with the main part of the body turning deep purple as I have described. The skin was tight and unblemished.

I broke the top off, just below the stem. I began, very, very slowly, to peel about a third of the skin back from the fruit. The fig behaved perfectly. It knew how to behave.

More of the centre pulled away, and it began to open more, just as I reached the fullness of the body. A layer of seeds, and juice came away with the one third that I was pulling back from the whole body.

I turned the open fig to face Olga. She gasped, and giggled divinely. The short loops in her nipple bars shook with her. 

She might have been looking into a wonderful, juicy cunt. 

The top, near the tip, would have looked like the smooth, white, surfaces folded open just below a clit. It would have looked as thought it had been opened by gentle fingers stretching the folds flat.

It would have been deep, rich red, turning purple, at the heart. It would have looked like a cunt opened for love. 

I said, "Now you eat it out. It is the sweetest cunt you will ever love, the most beautiful fruit that you will ever eat."

I held it up to her mouth. She leant forwards, opened her mouth, and she ate. 

She came away, having sucked the flesh from inside the skin. Her lips were covered in the juice of love. She had a look of complete astonishment on her face. Her eyes were blazing with lust.

She leant towards me, lips pouting. I was kissed a kiss of total lust, her tongue transferring a little of the taste, and of the juices, from her first Black Tiger.




The Dream Continues Ch. 08



She grabbed another fig for herself. She peeled the top back with infinite care, watching the puffy inside pull away as mine had done. Again the fig knew what to do. She held it to my Friend, who ate, and drank, of the fruit of Olga's love. 

They kissed long and hard. It was a deep lingering kiss.

There was no discussion. The Olga, who knew what she wanted, stood up. She picked up the plate of figs, with one had, took my Friend's hand in her other, and led her to the cushions scattered on the floor. More cushions, and loose seat squares, were brought to the floor.

I re-stoked the fire with several large logs, and joined them, carrying three glasses, and the remains of the second bottle of Beaujolais.

Outside the sky had changed to that endless semi-dusk of northern climes. It was still light enough for us to read, we could have been outside, naked as we were. It was warm; it was perfect.

We began to feed each other figs, peeling them as I had shown, and holding them up for another to eat. It was like a bacchanalian feast. Empty skins were tossed onto the fire. Each eating filled us with more lust.

They had to have aphrodisiac properties.

We began to talk of great lovemaking. Olga was detailed about the odd boyfriend, but most of the stories came from us. She obviously did not want to talk about her husband, and she was not pushed by either of us. 

No other subject was taboo.

She said that she had enjoyed the way I touched her anus, first when she, and my Friend, had just come to their climax together, then when my finger entered her arse in the hot tub.

She had never experienced anal sex. She wondered if we might try it together during the weekend.

My beloved Friend told her of our first attempts. She described how she had read about it in French novels, and how we messed everything up on the first night that we ever spent together. 

Then she described, in graphic detail, how I took her from behind, the following afternoon, while she was talking on the telephone to her husband.

She told how I lubricated, and opened her, as she talked, and how she pushed back against my hand when she was ready for my penis to enter her body. She said that she went on talking as the tip pushed on her hole, moved in, and continued to slide gently passed her sphincter without stopping.

She was totally graphic in her descriptions, of her feelings, of her emotions, and of what I did.

Olga was becoming very excited; she stretched out on her back. She fed two fingers of her right hand through the looped chains on her right nipple. Her left hand went down to her sex. It was as though she was in a trance. She began to play a tune on her clit. She began to stretch her nipple bar to the same rhythm.

She spread her legs a little. We could see that she was very wet again. 

My friend knelt between her legs.

My Friend continued to recount every detail of our first anal sex. She described how I leant forward, and slowly slipped both hands around her chest on to her breasts. I cupped both; they stopped swaying. I clamped her long, erect nipples tight between my two middle fingers. She told how I began a squeeze, and release milking motion by opening and closing my fingers, pulling hard when they were tight together.

She said that her husband never knew that he was talking to his wife when another man had his penis completely buried into her arse. 

She found it erotic then. It thrilled her even now.

The girls were becoming excited again, immersed in the graphic detail of our anal sex. I took one of the last two figs. I peeled it with the care that I had taken with the first one that I had fed to Olga. It was particularly succulent and juicy. I held it a few inches above her right teat. 

It was a small open cunt facing towards Olga. She stared transfixed as a little, and unusually perfect, drip of liquid formed at the base. It was almost like cum oozing from a cunt after a great climax. The drip fell right on the centre of her engorged teat. It was a perfect bulls eye, and, being thick and sticky, it simply sat on the end of her nipple. 

Her hand was still. I think she was holding her breath. 

I chuckled, and wondered, to myself, if we might have a direct hit on her left teat. She remained motionless as a second drip formed. Suddenly it fell, slightly off target, and began to roll down the length of her nipple.

She tilted her head forwards, and devoured the inside of her last fig. I held it to her mouth while my Friend bent forwards, hardly touching her body, and began to lick the rolling drip from her left breast. 

My mouth took the original drop. It was still sitting on the proud peak of her right teat.

Our fingers went roaming; we met at her clit. I stayed there, playing, enticing, rolling, and stroking her to grow. My Friend's fingers continued on, down her crack, and into her cunt.

Olga lay still, rigid, her eyes were tight shut, her arms held close to her body, hands flat against her thighs, her legs slightly apart.

Then my Friend began to wriggle her body seductively down over the flat expanse of tummy. Her breast dragged behind; they were flattened at the sides of Olga's body. They passed over her ridge, down her thighs. They passed the hands pressed flat to the outside of her body. 

It was obviously stretching her breasts hard. The teats became visibly longer, fuller. 

A mouth, one that I knew well, opened to take the clit from my fingers. 

She sucked it completely into her mouth.

I realised that my wonderful Friend would bring Olga to her climax. I knew that she would want to cum at the same time, so I rolled to one side, and began to crawl behind her. She did not change momentum as she sucked, and chewed, on that wonderful growing clitoris. 

I looked at her erect clit, as I passed the scene. It was probably bigger than I could have imagined, or when I abused it earlier. It was a small stick of great sexual beauty, on a wonderful body. 

My Friend saw me looking; she took her mouth an inch or so away. Gently she blew cold air onto it. Olga's pitch, her murmurings, grew louder.

I arrived between my Beloved's legs. She began to raise her arse to meet me. She moved gracefully into a doggy position. 

I saw that she was soaking wet. I was rampant.

I charged into her full length, buried to my pubic hair, my balls slapping on her arse.

Her head did not move. It was rather as when I had pushed into her on our first great anal encounter. Olga would not have felt a change in the ministrations to her clit.

I stayed buried to the hilt. I lent forwards, and took two dangling breast in hand. Moving them down Olga's stomach had stretched, and enlarged her teats. I milked them both together. Miraculous small drops of milk formed on the tips. 

We had found that the more we drank, the more milk her gorgeous breast produced. It was never in large volumes, never anything like the quantities of a nursing mother. It was always a very erotic, and an extraordinarily beautiful part of our lovemaking. 

I collected the drops on the upturned middle fingers of both hands, and began to feed another. 

I held the single, little drops on the tips of my fingers. I moved these into her vision. She lifted her mouth from the clit. I dripped milk onto the smooth, tall standing, hard middle. They combined together onto the tip, while she sucked lasciviously on my fingers. She drew them deep into her mouth, then her tongue came out, and she licked the drops from Olga's clit. 

Amazingly Olga had sensed the change in our moods. She opened her eyes to watch. She looked through a tunnel of jet black hair cascading down both sides of my Friend's face. 

She watched the milking, and clit feeding. She saw, for the first time, that I was fucking my wonderful Friend.

Now we had one major task. We all knew that we had to cum together again.

I had been very sexually stimulated, first by Olga kissing my tits in the hot tub, then by both my beauties as they ate their figs. I would have no problem cumming, but had to ensure that it was timed to my Friend, and hers was gauged to Olga's new needs.

I continued to work her tits. Puling them, mashing them hard to her chest, rolling them around in slow, contra rotating, circular motions. I knew that she loved it.

I slid my hands down her body, over her hips, and round into her jet black pubic hair. My fingers fought inwards from either side. They rampaged through her luxuriant growth, occasionally felling a tree, when I pulled a hair out. She always yelped as this happened, but I knew she loved it.

Olga had her head on a cushion. She had a grandstand view down, past the arch of black hair, up the valley between two hangings swaying breasts. 

Suddenly she realised that two more drop were forming on the ends of the long, swinging teats. 

She stretched to rescue them. She was just in time. Drops fell onto her fingers. She took them to her mouth with feline care, like a Siamese languidly moving to clean it's paws. 

She sucked them dry, and returned her hands to her sides.

My friend continued to pull, suck, chew and roll her wonderful, growing, stump, her clit. When she sucked, she pulled hard, drawing the whole into her mouth. Olga had begun to re-enter her trance, she was murmuring again. She was pressing the palms of her hands flat to the outside of her thighs. 

Her eyes were tight shut. She had a wonderful look of contented ease, combined with a sense of things to cum.

We both, we two, who had known each other only months, were completely at one. We were together. We were drawing the beautiful tall pilot into our lives. She would cum with us.

I began to thrust deep into my Darling's cunt. Each time I pulled out to see my hood, or more. Every time I pushed home my balls smacked against her arse. The sound was erotic.

Somehow, miraculously, she held her mouth still over Olga's clitoris. The only movements Olga would have felt were those of her lover's delicious exploring mouth. This continued to pull, suck, chew, and roll.

My thrusts were shaking her whole body, to the tips of her hanging breasts. Suddenly, all together, our mood changed. We stopped the frantic, manic thrusting, the hard sucking, and chewing. Simultaneously we began to love with amazing slowness, in a gentle, tender, dance of care. 

I pushed in and out slowly; I began to use the lower ridge of my steel hard cock to press on the base of my Beloved's cunt.

She changed. Her mouth began to take more in. She used her long tongue to begin to stroke the folds of those perfect bare labia. She licked the inside first, and then traced the Grand Banks, all now erotically engorged, and filled with the emotions of desire.

I continued to hold back, I knew the one I loved was close to the mountaintop. She was walking slowly over the gentle downs of love. She would clear the final ridge, and looking into the Golden Valley. She would go there hand in hand with her new lover, her Olga. 

They would make that journey together for the first time.

I looked to my left hand side.

Two eyes were closed, surrounded by waves of blond hair spreading over the cushion. Her lips were pouting, wetted by her tongue. She might have been in prayer. Her silent murmurings continued unabated.

Her hands had opened; two other hands had joined them. Fingers were completely, tightly entwined.

Magically they stood together looking at the most perfect view in the world. They were sharing the greatest gift that a woman can give another. Gently, slowly they began to cum together, deep, deep inside both a longing for love was being fulfilled.

I began to spurt, as I slowly moved in and out. For me it was a long languid dance of pulsing desire. I gripped her thighs. I thrust more sperm deeper into her body as I moved in as far as I could.

All this time the two clung together. My friend gave the long erect clit a parting kiss. She moved forwards, her breasts began to drag over the bare skin, as her mouth went to Olga's erect right teat. Small streaks of milk were being painted over the brown body. Her nipples brushed their latest drop onto a good home.

A right nipple was kissed and sucked. Their gentle cumming continued its course into the Golden Valley full of love.

I remained inside her, still pulsing, as she reached higher up Olga's beautiful body. Her cunt moved away from me. I was reaching the point where I could not follow. I would pop out as she moved forwards to her goal.

Another nipple was kissed, and then caressed. Her mouth made the journey up the path of love, over brown skin, up over her Adam's Apple to a meeting of mouths. They kissed long, and hard. 

Four hands were still tightly clasped together at Olga's waist. Both their arms were rigid; both were still.

We had all cum together.

My penis was at the point of no return; my last spurt had made its journey. I oozed slowly out of her hole. I rolled to be on Olga's right hand side. I lay straight like the two bodies beside me. 

My Friend was rigid on top of the long brown body. Her tits flattened, rounded and very white, like when I removed her basque for the first time. Only their mouths continued to explore, and love.

She raised her body to allow her breasts to dangle free. Slowly they stopped swaying. She moved her right shoulder so that one wonderful, long, engorged teat kissed the tip of Olga's nipple. She dipped her shoulder, and it dropped slowly onto the peak. 

The small coned breast disappeared.

Her left nipple hung free. It was still. It moved lovingly over it's target, and was lowered into place.

Olga giggled as her tits vanished, and they kissed again. Small coned breasts were squashed flat by fuller more mature globes. Nipples were smothered in each other's love.

They might not have had to breathe, but might they be wet with the milk of love?

Gently, softly, mouths parted. My Friend asked Olga if she was too heavy lying full length on her. Olga replied that she felt covered by the warm blanket of love for the first time since her husband had been killed.

My Darling Friend wept for her. They wept the tears of love together.

I put my arm around her, to touch Olga, and embrace them both in my love.

Slowly she rolled sideways, so that Olga was free. Olga's nipples were wet.

My hand slipped down, to lie just below Olga's slight breasts. It was joined in a curled embrace of forearms. Olga entwining hers arms with ours.

The fire was dying down. Outside it was as dark as it would ever be. Time stood still. It did not matter, but dawn would be rolling out of the Eastern skies in two or three hours.

It was time for bed.

Slowly Olga unfolded herself. We all sat quietly, then I said, "Thank you both for showing me all the love that two can give to each other, and, thank you Olga, for inviting us to be with you here."

We all rose together, Olga with that languid, feline grace, my Fiend also purring with contentment. None wanted to wash the marvellous smell of recent sex from our bodies. 

They did not dry their eyes.

We stood awhile, at the open side of the area, breathing in the night air, and listening to the gentle lap of water around the deck, and the floats of the seaplane that had brought us here. 

We decided to leave the windows wide open to the night air. 

I added several logs to the embers of the fire. It caught again, and I drew the safety curtain almost completely around it.

It was the only light, other than the continual dusk of the night. 

I left the curtain parted so that flames through light on the ceiling towards the bed area. It reminded me of sunlight glancing across that naked body as I swam towards the surface during our afternoon swim.

We all went to bed together.

Olga lay in the middle of the huge area. It was at least as big as the bed we had left at our hotel. I was on her right, my Darling on her left. 

Again we had a single, summer weight, down duvet to cover us. We snuggled up under it.

We were all tired. We kissed. I whispered that, in the morning, I would tell Olga of my dream as she took off from the hotel.

She might already have been asleep, but her eyelids flickered. 

Two hands met over the flatness of her stomach, and we slept.

To be continued...

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(c) Copyright Gussie – August/September 2003