0 comments/ 12556 views/ 1 favorites Spontaneous By: IzzydaPenguin I sneak up behind you and place a few light kisses on the back of your neck, working my way around to lightly nibble on your right ear lobe... After I know I have your full attention, I wrap my arms around you tight and hold you closely against my chest... My right arm moves from across your chest to caressing and cupping left breast, my hand enveloping the whole base of your soft flesh and my index finger tracing circles around your quickly hardening nipple... All the while my teeth are lightly nibbling on your ear lode and I'm whispering dirty dirty thoughts into your ear. With you pressed up against me and squirming in the delightful way you are I can't help it but start to feel my blood pumping down below my belt. With the combination of me hardening and holding you close. You feel my erection growing and you push yourself back against me. My now very stiff erection is wedged in the crack of your behind. My right hand is now full out massaging your left breast with my thumb and index finger rolling your nipple around while occasionally running a few quick circles around the hard nub... You turn your head to the side and our lips meet in a hot and hungry kiss that grows hotter as it goes on. My tongue is reaching out and running along your upper and lower lips. I can feel your own tongue reaching out and start to twist around mine and it feels ohhh so nice... My left arm which has up until now just held you close begins to drop, running my hand down along your middle and rubbing small circles across your stomach as it descends lower and lower So with our tongues dueling away and my right hand playing with your breast my left hand proceeds down to cup down between your legs, which I can feel a very warm moist patch through your clothing... As I wrap my fingers under I can feel you take in a sharp breath and gasp into my mouth a little letting me know that you're very ready for some heavier action, and soon. With both of us very in the mood now, you turn and face towards me while still in my arms. Our bodies crushed together tightly with me feeling your now rock hard nipples against my chest, along with my very obvious erection pressed up against your stomach we continue to kiss and moan into each others mouths. We step away from each other but only to start ripping clothes off of each other. I'm still not sure how but you managed to get my shirt off in under 2 seconds while I was still struggling with yours... you begin to run your hands up and down my firm stomach and up over my chest while I finally get your top off and reach around to undue your bra. Being both topless now we reach lower down for each others slacks. Being dressed in draw string track pants today your task is rather easy, you yank both my pants and boxers down to my knees and let them fall from there. Before you went down for the drop I managed to get your button undone and your zipper pulled down, so while you were down you pulled your bottoms down as well... When you pulled my pants down you were faced with my hard cock springing out and the juices that were already flowing out are coating the underside of it and starting to drip a bit... With my hard dripping erection just inches away from your face you slowly come closer and your tongue reaches out at the last instant to lightly touch the tip which makes me jerk and gasp and moan a plead asking you to do more.... "PLEASE...." However you shake your head and motion towards the couch behind me. I get the idea and we head for the couch while kissing and running our hands over each others now hot bodies. We are both beginning to show some signs of how turned are we are by small droplets of sweat beginning to form... As we reach the couch you push me down onto it lengthwise on my back, then reach your leg over my head and settle down on me in a classic '69' position. With your very moist lips so close to me I can smell the sweet heavy smell drifting from you and it goes straight to my head and I find myself growing harder than ever before... As my hands reach up and grab your hips I can feel your hand wrapping around my hard shaft, we both let out a loud groan as your lips envelope my head and my tongue traces a path just inside you and along your entire slits length... With the feeling of your mouth slowly lowering down and sucking me in, I begin sucking your engorged lips into my mouth. Sucking lightly, while sticking my tongue out. Tasting the juices that are now flowing freely from you. With your mouth now almost at the base of my cock I suddenly feel a hand lifting my balls and rolling them around. With you now deliciously sucking on the head of my cock and rolling my balls around, my tongue is setting a fast paced rhythm of deep penetrating pokes and full width licks over your rock hard clit. I can tell that with me moaning over the intense pleasure you're giving me the vibrations from my tongue are giving you little shocks of your own. My hands are now rubbing up and down your sides while my mouth and face are getting thoroughly soaked in your delicious juices. You are starting to pick up the pace at which you're going up and down on my cock, making me start to feel a definite build up in the balls you are so handily gripping As I can feel myself beginning to boil over I motion for you to stop for a second so we may change positions. Giving you one last hard lick and a swirling suck you grudgingly get up. I sit up and you straddle my legs, placing your knees to the sides of mine. Gripping my now heavily coated, rock hard cock in your hand. You lower yourself down onto me with my hands on your hips guiding you down. However you stop with just the tip of myself inside you. I can feel the intense heat within you and beg for you to go down all the way, however you simply give me a wink and begin to tease me by rotating your hips around in circles and only moving up and down a quarter of an inch or so. Definitely not enough for me at this point. I reach up and begin to cup both of your breasts while making sure to run my palms over your hard nipples as often as possible, trying desperately to drive you over the edge so you can stop teasing me. I reach up and grab you behind your neck to drag you down for a kiss. Our lips meet and its definitely a kiss of abandon. At last you sink all the way down with a long drawn out moan, place your hands on my chest. With our tongues now wrapping around each other you begin to move up and down on me. Together we're making noises into each others mouths, and our skin sliding provocatively together. I urge you to speed up a bit. You give a small grunt into my mouth and start to move yourself up and down more forcefully. I can now hear our bodies slapping against each other and combined with the sound of our heavy breathing, the slight squish of displaced juices I know I won't be able to last much longer. You begin to squeeze me with your muscles internally and I can tell you know I love it due to the loud moaning I'm directing into our kiss. As the pace is steadily rising, I begin to feel the starting of a mind blowing orgasm and pull away from your mouth to look into your eyes and tell you that it will be very soon... You give me a grin and crush your mouth back into mine and unbelievably pick up the pace even more. With both of us so close we are now clutching at each other and I can feel your hard nipples running up and down my chest as you pump yourself up and down. As I can start to feel the juices inside of me begin to boil up, I let you know by groaning a very deep and drawn out "I'm cummmming....." With this my cock begins to jerk in sharp spasms. As you feel my cum leaping from me and spraying deep into you, you begin to groan loudly and clamp yourself down onto me as deep as you can go. With both of us cumming together our tongues are forcefully gripping each others and we are now hugging each other together hard. When we both settle down a little, we are able to draw away slightly to give each other small light kisses. I can feel myself slowly shrinking and our combined juices running out of you and along my sac. We stay like this for several minutes, just looking into each others eyes when you suddenly get a surprised look on your face as you begin to feel me growing hard again... Spontaneous Thinking about it, I've decided that bringing Jell-O to a gathering of leathermen wasn't my big mistake. My big mistake was bringing it on the night that Master Trent was attending. I met up with him at an inopportune moment, when he was staring morosely at the refreshments table. The table looked pretty good to me. Martin, who's president of our little suburban leather group, works as a caterer, and he always makes sure we have a good spread. Tonight it was fairly standard stuff: cut vegetables with dill dip, melon pieces, and various desserts that the rest of us had brought. Master Trent pointed one long, wrinkled finger at the vegetables. "What," he asked, "is that?" I paused before answering. I always pause before answering Trent. While the usual position of my hanky won't allow me to fall onto my knees and do hero-worship, I've been tempted at times. I know I'm not the only one in our group who feels that way. Whoever came up with the cliches about the Old Guard must have met Trent. He's tall, ruggedly handsome, muscular, tattooed, and has a belt so heavy and thick that it could have served as a railroad track. Tom of Finland used him as his model, I'd swear. Trent doesn't wear leather, though. He says he stopped wearing it back in the seventies when it started becoming fashionable among vanilla gays. Being fashionable is exactly what a true leatherman ain't, he says. He has a lot more to say on that subject, and his tedious e-mails on the topic were the main reason I'd managed to keep from flinging myself at the feet of suburbia's Mr. Benson. Gary was the other reason. I glanced over at the second man, who had a padlocked chain round his neck and was about a decade younger than Trent, which made him three decades older than me. Gary was carefully examining the toothpicks holding sushi. Daydreaming of the uses Trent could put them to, I suppose. "I think," I said carefully to Trent, "that those are baby carrots." "Baby carrots," said Trent, running his eye distastefully over the zucchini and broccoli and cauliflower and the radishes cut into delicate shapes by Martin's skilled hand. "And what is that?" Gary had made his choice, and it appeared that Trent wasn't pleased with it. I said judiciously, "I think it's a Ho Ho. But it's the low-fat version, judging from the box." From Trent's glower, I gathered I'd given the wrong answer. "And that?" He shot his finger toward a bowl at the very end of the wooden table. "Uh . . . " Suddenly I saw where this was headed and felt uncomfortable. "That's my contribution, actually. Lime Jell-O with miniature marshmallows." He could have burned a hole in the carpet with his look. "Oh, come on, Trent," I protested. "What were you expecting, a deer roasting on a spit? You're in Lawnville, for God's sake!" "The food," Trent said balefully as he looked round the room, "is only symbolic of the problem." After a minute, I figured out what he meant. The dozen of us who were standing in this room were nearly all dressed to the hilt in leather -Trent and Gary and I were the only exceptions. We were all wearing hankies and key-chains, and Martin was tapping a nice riding crop against his thigh. If any of Martin's neighbors had walked in at this moment, they would have screamed and fled from the dangerous men. But the conversation was . . . Well, it didn't live up to the trappings. A couple of guys to the left of me were discussing whether it was rude for them to wear shorts to town council meetings. Another group was discussing how long you could let your grass grow before the neighbors complained about the state of your lawn. Martin was heavily engaged in a conversation about his plans to register his domestic partnership with the local authorities. It was all quite familiar to me. This was the world I'd lived in since I was a kid: the world of PTA book-sales and lemonade stands and kinky little games in the boys' locker room which you followed up with trips to the corner store to buy a giant Slurpee that you shared. But I knew what Trent was envisioning as he looked out on the gathering: tough, lawless men motorbiking into the wilderness where they tore off their clothes and had raw, rough sex in orgies that lasted three days. It wasn't a world I knew, but it was the world that had drawn Trent into leather. "Trent," I said seriously as I poured myself a cup of sparkling punch, "all the spontaneous, limitless anarchy that you miss couldn't have lasted. If AIDS hadn't killed it, something else would have. An unstable society like that just won't hold together for long." "Stability." Trent gave me a look that was more daunting than the previous ones, because I couldn't read his expression. "That's what you're seeking from leathersex? Lack of danger?" "Danger can exist alongside stability," I argued, eyeing a Ho Ho greedily. "You set your unmovable foundation, you decide your limits - and then everything else you gamble." Trent snorted. "Danger. You young leathermen know nothing about danger. I had only one fear when I was young, and I got over that in time. But you fear everything. You fear that you won't be accepted by your vanilla neighbors, you fear that society will think you're strange. You won't do anything spontaneous or risky because you might get hurt." Trent snorted again. "All you need, you say, is stability. Say, which pocket is your hanky in tonight?" I sighed. This was an old argument between us. "Look, just because I'm ninety percent top doesn't mean I can't have a little fun taking the other role once in a while. That has nothing to do with stability--" I was interrupted then. Martin was starting to make the rounds of the room, clipboard and pen in hand, asking everyone whether they were registered to vote so that they could show the world what good citizens leathermen are. Nearby, most of the group had entered into a discussion of how long the negotiations before a scene should last between a top and a bottom, and whether there should be three breaks or four for further negotiations later in the evening. "Fucking Christ," Trent said with disgust. Then he turned to me and asked mildly, "Will you do something for me?" "Sure," I said with a mouth full of my first bite of Ho Ho. "Anything you want." It must have been the Ho Ho. Sugar rushes cause madness, right? Because I promise you, "Anything you want," is not what you say to Trent. Not when he has his black handkerchief sticking out of his back pocket. He smiled and put his arm round my shoulders. I'm not into that touchy-feely male bonding stuff, so I tried to shrug him off, sort of like a fly might try to shrug off a bull. I saw Gary suddenly turn his gaze our way, as though alerted by a signal. Trent raised his voice above the chatter. "Gentlemen!" he announced. "My dear grey-hankied friend here has just offered to let me do anything I want with him. That's right, isn't it?" He turned to me for confirmation. It was right about then that the Ho Ho turned into a ten-ton cast-iron ball in my stomach. I made the mistake of trying to answer. "Well, yeah, but--" That was as far as I got. Trent picked me up by back-collar and belt and threw me onto the table. Let me assure you, this isn't easy to do. I mean, I'm a hundred and sixty pounds. The sound of me landing was like a crack of thunder, and for a moment I thought the table would break apart. I was less worried about this than about the fact that I'd landed on the food. I had missed the toothpicks. That was the only mercy. My out-flung arms were now smeared with crushed low-fat Ho Hos, while the piles of vegetables were under my torso. My groin landed on baby carrots, which were only bumpy, but my chest was less lucky and I found that my tits were being gouged by Martin's carefully cut radishes. As for my face, that was buried in the bowl of dip. I would have made history in the next minute as the only man in Lawnville to ever drown in dill dip, but Trent shoved me forward. All of the food under me rolled with my body, and the bowl fell to the floor. If the bowl had been made of glass, the result would have been a shattering that would undoubtedly have left my face full of glassy shards. As it was, I blessed the inventor of Tupperware. The shove left my head hanging over the end of the table. I immediately placed my hands palm-down against the back of my head. Several of the guys told me afterwards how impressed they were that I moved so quickly into a position of submission. It had nothing to do with submission. I was just trying to protect my head against what would come next. The first blow of Trent's belt nearly cracked the table again. It landed on my shoulder-blades with all the force of a train running down a track. People around me were shouting. I heard a scream. I think it was me. Martin was gabbling something about the difficulty of cleaning dip from his carpet. The second blow landed on my ass. This time I had no doubt who was screaming, because I didn't have time enough to catch my breath before the third blow landed on my thighs. If I'd been thinking straight, I would have taken due note of the fact that Trent had skipped the dangerous area of my lower back, and would have been heartened by this. But then, if I'd been thinking straight, I wouldn't have been lying atop someone's offering of Tollhouse chocolate chip cookies. All I could manage was a vague confusion as to why the beating had paused. Not stopped; I hadn't lost my mind enough to have delusions of that sort. The room grew suddenly quiet. Martin stopped talking about the cost of buying a new tablecloth. I felt Trent's hand grope my butt. This, coming immediately after the sudden attack, caused a growth of warmth at my groin. My cock began to nudge the baby carrots out of the way. This struck me as funny, so I laughed. "Quiet!" Trent accompanied this instruction with a slap to my ass that thrust all laughter from my throat. My cock swelled happily. Trent groped into my left back pocket again, pulling something out. I understood then. I felt him transfer the handkerchief to my right pocket. Trent is always careful about such niceties. "I trust," he said politely to me, "that you won't mind if I add more colors to your pocket." It wasn't a question. The pause had done its work; I had stopped being alarmed and was working on being terrified. Black handkerchiefs always make me nervous, at least if I'm on the bottom, but I'd never been this scared before. Of course, I'd never before bottomed to a man who didn't wear a handkerchief back in the old days, because in the old days such polite warnings of sexual preferences weren't needed. You didn't negotiate with your bottom-man back then; you simply took what you wanted. I felt something cold touch my neck. Since my head was still hanging down, I couldn't see anyone's expressions, but from the hiss of breath around me I could guess that I was right in thinking the coldness was a knife. I decided that breathing was more trouble than it was worth. I'd have sworn beforehand that it's impossible to cut a flannel shirt with nothing but a penknife. Trent proved me wrong. The silence was like a black hole as Trent dragged the knife down, splitting the shirt and drawing a fiery line of blood down my back. It was the same silence that occurred on the rare occasions when Trent graced us with his SM demonstrations. Trent's slave had always been the bottom in those demonstrations; I wondered briefly how Gary felt about being passed over tonight. Then I had no thoughts left for Gary, because my split shirt had been opened, and I knew that this wasn't so that Trent could admire my well-developed muscles. I gulped in air in preparation. The belt blows this time were more rhythmic, almost ritualistic. I sobbed throughout them. I'm willing to swear on The Leatherman's Handbook that I'm not weak when I travel to the bottom, even if my tastes tend more toward the softer end of leathersex. But Mr. Benson himself would have sobbed if he'd felt a train car run over his back thirty times in a row. At one point, I heard someone whisper something to Martin about stopping the scene. Martin murmured a demurral. I vowed to strangle Martin if I lived. Then it stopped; my groin was lifted off the baby carrots, which were no doubt grateful for the relief, and I was pulled down to the end of the table till my groin dangled over the end. Only my chin now hung over the other side, next to the dill-smeared tablecloth. I felt Trent's hand fiddle with my belt, and my chest tightened. Daydreams about Trent were one thing, but I'd seen his size when he played with Gary. I wanted to be able to sit down again some time during the next month. I tried wriggling away, but Trent simply planted his hand firmly on the small of my back. I felt like a vampire who has just had a stake planted in his heart. So I made a sound. It wasn't exactly a protest. I mean, there's nothing I hate worse than a bottom who says, "No limits," and then wimps out in the middle of a scene. I was trying to articulate something along the lines of, "Can we stop and talk about this, sir?" I don't know how the sound translated, but Trent slapped my ass again. "Slaveboy," he said, "I need a gag. You'll do." I turned my eyes toward Gary, who stood frozen. For a second I wondered whether he was jealous. Thus I missed whatever time I had in which to give him a reassuring look. He jumped as Trent barked in anger; then he hurried forward, pulling a piece of square foil from his pocket. It was then that I realized what danger I was in. All I could do for a moment was moan. There had been much speculation -both outside Trent's hearing and within -about Trent's HIV status. I promise you, our little group usually finds more discreet ways to enquire as to whether any of our members knows he is carrying a deadly disease. Our public nosiness in Trent's case arose from the lengthy messages he posted to our e-mail list about the need for spontaneous, limitless leathersex, with no ridiculous innovations like negotiations and safe words and condoms. More than one member - I'll admit I was one of them - had been heard to proclaim loudly that Trent was engaging in dangerous, self-serving talk. True, no one except Gary needed to worry about whether Trent was positive, since Trent never had sex with the rest of us. True, Trent had always been a top, and tops were less likely to get AIDS than bottoms were. But Trent had freely admitted to having tried the bottom's role in fisting a few times in order to become more accomplished at the topman's end of the matter. A few times. In San Francisco. In the eighties. Christ, if Trent wasn't HIV positive, he must be living under the protection of a major saint. Gary had pulled out his cock by now and was rolling the rubber over it. Whatever he might think of Trent's choice of a play partner, he evidently found Trent's workmanlike handling of me to be exciting. Trent was pulling down my briefs. I had just time enough to say, "Trent, I really don't want to--" "Quiet!" Trent landed a slap on my balls that guaranteed I screeched at the very moment Gary slid his cock into my mouth. I considered biting Gary's cock off. It wasn't too crazy an idea, given the consequences I was facing. "Jell-O, you say?" Trent's voice was mild. "Sounds like a decent lube to me. Thank you for bringing it." My mind suddenly found itself trapped as I mentally ran down the list of ingredients for my recipe to see whether any of them disagreed with rectums. Damn, I should have memorized my Betty Crocker cookbook. Then I remembered that I had more important matters to worry about. Gary's cock had just finished its journey into the depths of my throat. It had easy passage; when I learn to do something, I do it well. As Gary pulled back and his cock's head touched my lips, I jerked my mouth away. I could feel Trent's dick at my entrance, cool with lime Jell-O. "Damn it, Trent!" I shouted. "You know I don't play bareback! If you fuck me without a rubber, I swear I'll beat you to death with your own belt!" I expected another slap. What I got was a chuckle. "That, gentlemen, is the difference between a topman and a bottom-man," Trent announced. "If I'd done this to a bottom, he would have pleaded or at most threatened me with the police. A true top takes matters into his own hands." "He's wearing a rubber," Martin told me from where he stood, watching the proceedings with interest. "He put it on before he started removing your clothes. Otherwise we wouldn't have let him go this far." All my breath left me. I felt Gary stroke my dip-filled hair solicitously. And in that moment of relaxation I opened up, and Master Trent, model for Tom of Finland, slid his massive power inside me and lit me up like a suburban lawn display at Christmastime. * * * "That's the way to do it," Trent said with satisfaction. "No twelve-hour negotiations. No fiddling talk of whether the bottom will allow his left ass-cheek to be pounded harder than his right ass-cheek. And Christ help us, no goddamn breaks in the middle to renegotiate. Just raw, rough sex, the way it was meant to be." We were sitting on the sofa in Martin's living room near midnight. Martin, having spent an hour frantically looking up phone numbers of dry cleaners, had rushed off to a 24-hour cleaner to see whether they could rescue his tablecloth. Everyone else had left. Trent, Gary, and I had finished cleaning up our mess, figured out where Martin hid his beer, and were now lounging at our leisure till Martin returned and we could render our apologies. "You know I agree with you in essence, if not necessarily in the details," I said. "So why me? Why not Gary?" Trent shook his head as he looked down at Gary, who was sprawled over my lap with his head resting in Trent's lap, deep asleep. "Too much danger," Trent said softly. "Gary might have let me fuck him without checking that I wore protection. Then the point of the demonstration would have been lost. I knew that you'd let me go as far as your usual limit, and no further." I looked over at Trent, who was softly fingering Gary's hair. "Trent," I said, "you're a poseur. All that talk about no limits, no need for condoms. . . Gary doesn't have sex with anyone but you. He wouldn't have been carrying a rubber unless you'd given it to him." Trent smiled without raising his eyes from Gary. "I just wanted to shake you young folks up, make you examine your assumptions. You're all so dreadfully conformist. I'd like to say that the urban leathermen are better, but that's not the case. Your generation should be rebelling against society when you wear your leather, not figuring out ways to restrict yourself to what society wants." "Like you did?" I said. Trent leaned back, letting his arm fall on top of the sofa's backrest. I instinctively moved forward to avoid intimate contact with the other man. "Do you know what it was I feared when I was young?" Trent asked reflectively. "What it was that nearly all the leathermen of my generation feared? What we partied our brains out to avoid coming into contact with, for fear it would imprison us?" I looked down at Gary, who was smiling in his sleep as Trent softly brushed his cheek. After a while I said, "Not just your generation." "No," Trent agreed. After a minute more I said, "I don't think that's what I'm looking for. Having a heavy top beat me is one thing. This--" I waved my hand at where Trent was continuing to stroke the face of his long-time lover. "This is dangerous. I don't think I have the courage for it." Trent smiled. "So don't press yourself. If it's meant to come, it will come in its own time. In the meantime, have fun, say 'fuck you' to all those senseless rules that society tries to place on you, but don't forget what you've had the good fortune to know at a much younger age than I did: the need for stability. The need for a foundation beneath the delicious danger in one's life." Spontaneous I tried to sort this out. Finally I said, "All I can think of is Jell-O." Trent laughed then, so loud that Gary opened his eyes and peered up at us, smiling sleepily. "Jell-O, then," said Trent. "If that's what it takes. Jell-O and Tupperware and baby carrots and-- Christ, I almost forgot. Slaveboy, fetch the ones we brought that escaped the damage. I don't want to waste them." Gary slid from the sofa; a minute later he was back with the box of Ho Ho's in hand. I looked from the box to Trent. "You fucking hypocrite," I said slowly. Trent smiled. He opened the box. "Care for one?" -- Copyright (c) 2005 DuskPeterson. All rights reserved. Please do not reprint, post, or e-mail except with permission JELL-O® is a registered trademark of KF Holdings. Ho Ho® is a registered trademark of Interstate Bakeries Corporation. Tupperware® is a registered trademark of Tupperware Worldwide. Betty Crocker® is a registered trademark of General Mills, Inc. Publication of these trademarks is not authorized by, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. The author has seventy-five dollars in the bank, so suing won't get you anywhere. Spontaneous Anal Suggestion I’m kind of surprising myself by writing this story. I never thought I would write one, but I’ve been reading stories both good and bad that I needed to get this one out of my system. This is the first blatantly erotic story I have ever written. Feedback is welcome. This story evolved after a long stay in the hospital. Running through this fantasy in my mind would help me get to sleep as I was immobile at the time. ***** I had resigned myself to an uneventful evening on the the couch with my wife leaning against me watching reruns of Star Trek Voyager, a show we had both grown to love in spite of it’s campiness. There was enough leftover delivery pizza for breakfast and not too many beer bottles to cleanup. The only annoyance was the snare drum sound of the heavy rain as it beat down on the metal shell of the small window air conditioner of our little apartment. The tinny echo shook the cheap plastic vents and competed for our attention. Abruptly there was a knock at the door. I eased Vanessa off of me, and looked for my little league baseball bat. This was not a safe neighborhood by any stretch of the imagination. But before I could grab my bat, we heard a pathetic cry on the other side of the door. “’Nessa! Are you home?!” I shot a pained look of annoyance at my wife. Her little sister was here again. I didn’t dislike her mind you, but she was a drama queen. She was hot skinny little number, who was fun to look at, but if you were dating her yourself, you would grow tired of her shit very quickly. My wife got up to answer the door. She didn’t have much patience for her little sister either. “Celeste, get inside before you catch your death,“ my wife said. “What are you doing here?” “Jason and I broke up,” she blubbered. She looked like a drowned clown. She was so wet from the rain, you could only tell she was crying by the shape of her features. Her normally pristine straight blonde hair, was now a wet curly mop. Her thin body was covered by a faux fur coat, soaked just as bad. “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes,” Vanessa concealed her irritation from her sister but not me. I was in no mood for bullshit high school drama. I mean, hadn’t we just seen her a week ago on her 18th birthday at her parents house? Didn’t we buy her a gift? Didn’t we tolerate that fiasco of a get together with her boyfriend, an equally stupid, but just as attractive Backstreet Boy wannabe? I was looking forward to just kicking it on the couch with my honey. Now, it was shaping up to be a total cryfest of an evening. Vanessa came out of the bathroom and sat next to me on the couch. She had changed from her sweats to one of my pajama tops. “What is it this time?” I asked. “Jason wanted to have sex with her. He said he deserved it and had waited long enough.” “You mean they hadn’t done it yet?” I asked. My opinion of her sister shot up a couple of points. “No,” Vanessa replied. “She wanted to wait until she was eighteen or in love, whichever came first…” “Wait a minute,” I interrupted, “He didn’t rape her did he..?” Now I was genuinely concerned. For all Celeste’s drama, I had no desire to see her hurt in any way. “No, they just had a big blowout fight and he took off,” she replied. Apparently the argument started at a movie theater and he left her there. She caught the bus here and she didn’t want to go home. “I called Mom and Dad,” Vanessa continued. “I told them she’d be spending the night here with us.” “Okay, I’ll get some towels and sheets for the guest room…” I started to say. “That’s not what I had in mind.” Vanessa cut me off as she put her hand on my arm. “What do you mean?” I asked. “Their whole fight was about sex. He wanted it, but she wasn’t sure. It was supposed to be on her birthday, but she’s not on the pill, and he didn’t want to use condoms.” “Okay…go on.” I wasn’t sure where she wanted to go with this. “He has more experience than her. That intimidates her. On top of that she’s not sure he’s the one she wants to give it up to.” “So where are you going with this?” I asked. “I told her that there are other things you can do besides sex that can make a man happy.” “What did you do?” I asked. My wife always came up with hairbrain ideas. This was beginning to sound like one of them. “I told her that she could learn from us.” I was dumbstruck. “You mean you want to let her watch us do it?” I admit, I love my wife with all my heart, and I would never hurt her, but the thought had crossed my mind of doing it with Celeste. She had the kind of body that just demanded attention. If I was a boy in high school with her in my class, I would just ache for her in silence as I don’t think I would have had the balls to talk to her. Now my wife was suggesting I let her little sister watch us. “Not necessarily,” she replied. I was thinking more of letting you do the foreplay on her, everything you could possibly do with her without sex, while I coach and advise, and then you finish with me. The evening was shaping up to be far more interesting than Star Trek. “You mean you want me to go down on her and then do you?” I asked, still incredulous. “Yeah that, and I want to teach her how to give a proper blowjob,” she said. I couldn’t believe my ears. Vanessa noticed my apprehension. “Is something wrong? I know you’ve always wanted to do it with more girls before we got married. This is a way that you can have that without cheating on me. And Celeste can learn from a master.” “Master?” She was pouring on the flattery. Not that I needed much convincing. “Baby, you are aware that you’re fucking with our marriage right? If we do this, it might change everything.” “I know,” Vanessa said, “but I’m willing to take that risk. I would much rather have you here at home with me than off fucking some strange skank in the street.” “Baby, that would never happen…” “Yes! I know, but I’ve seen it in your eyes. You want more than what I can give you sometimes. Tonight, I’m giving you more. More importantly, you’re going to help Celeste,” she said. “I would much rather have her be with someone, gentle, considerate and experienced than to have some idiot boy take her cherry and come after five seconds.” Her logic was beginning to make sense. My thought processes were beginning to be governed by my lower half. “So how do we begin?” I asked. “So you’re okay with this?” she asked. “Yeah, I think so.” As fun as this sounded, it was deadly serious. No one ever thinks of the ramifications of bringing that third person into the bedroom. “Okay, I’ll go get her. Meet us in the bedroom.” Vanessa went back into the bathroom to get her sister. After her suggestion, I hadn’t realized the hair dryer had been going during our whole conversation, until Celeste turned it off. The bedroom of our little apartment was cramped, but cozy. Barely big enough to fit our California king, but Vanessa and I were happy here. I sat on the bed with my back against the headboard. I would have changed out of my T-shirt and shorts, but, what would I put on instead? I mean, it was all coming off anyway. I’ve always wanted to experience this, but I was beginning to think wanting it might be better than having it. My thoughts remained unresolved as they walked into the room and sat on the bed. “So what are the rules?” I asked. You have to have rules. Can’t go out of bounds. Celeste looked much better with dry hair and wearing my wife’s bathrobe. She glanced at Vanessa as she seemed startled at the idea of having rules. I guess she realized we needed them as well. “Her pussy is off-limits to your dick.” Vanessa said without missing a beat. “Other than that, we will make them up as we go along. That’s really the most important one since she’s not on the pill.” Clearly she was slipping into the role of ringleader, but she sounded like she had done this before. To my knowledge, this was a first for all of us, but I suspect that she was trying to make Celeste more comfortable with the idea. Still, her confidence with orchestrating what was going to happen was slightly unnerving. “You guys are so great,” Celeste gushed. I was worried the waterworks were going to start again. Vanessa hugged her. “Sweetie, you’re my sister, and I will always love you. I won’t let anything happen to you ever again like what happened tonight. In order to share your body, you must first understand your body. We want to help you with that.” “I’m here for you too, Celeste,” I added. Celeste threw her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. “Thanks, Jake.” I kissed her cheek back and she kissed me again. “I know that sometimes I can be stupid…” Celeste started. I cut her off with a kiss. I didn’t want to begin that useless argument where someone puts themselves down so that you can argue and build up their ego. I hate that shit. I would much rather kiss her than listen to her and before I knew it she was kissing me back. Hard. On the lips, with intensity. I guess she would rather kiss than talk as well. I sensed some anger in her kisses, but I don’t think it was so much directed at me as she felt like she was getting some revenge on Jason. It was odd to be kissing my sister in front of my wife. I peeked out of one eye to look at my wife only to see her staring back and smiling. Her smile was both approving and hungry at the same time. It’s obvious how much of a turn on this is for me but I never realized how much this would turn on Vanessa. Vanessa turned off the lights and lit some candles. The room was dark but for those few flickering lights that cascaded and danced with our shadows on the wall. Vanessa sat down next to us and gently pulled Celeste’s hair out from under the robe. I could feel my wifes hands gliding between our bodies to untie the robe which covered her sister. Celeste’s eyes locked with mine as Vanessa pulled the robe off of her shoulders. I did my best to keep looking at Celeste’s eyes as her breasts came into view. I couldn’t stand not looking and glanced down at two little mounds of soft creamy flesh capped by equally small pink nipples. The nipples were smaller than a pencil eraser, but they were as dark and as angry as their owner. Celeste was leaner than my wife, with smaller breasts, but you could tell that they were from the same stock. Vanessa was only a few years older, but she had bigger breasts which complimented her athletic body. I cupped Celeste’s breasts in my hand and moved in to kiss her properly. I felt both their hands go under my shirt and peel it off of me. I did my best not to be tickled by the unusual sensation. Vanessa unbuttoned her own pajama top, all the while grinning at me. I could only grin back as her little sister pulled off my shorts. My cock was growing heavy. I wasn’t quite erect, but I was on my way. Celeste took me in her hand and played with it more out of curiosity than actual horniness. Vanessa came in for a kiss and whispered in my ear, “Enjoy this. This will be the only time.” Before I could ponder that thought, I felt Celeste take me in her mouth. I couldn’t keep my eyes open with my wife kissing my neck and her sister sucking my dick. Visual input would almost be sensory overload. I was now solid. Not quite a bar of iron, but not far from it either. Celeste stopped sucking to take a good look at it. “What do you think?” Vanessa asked. “It’s longer and thicker than Jason’s” she replied. “But it’s much softer. And it smells good.” “Yeah, and check out his balls.” Vanessa was now showing off my manhood to her little sister. She always insisted that she be the one to keep my balls shaved and pubic hair closely trimmed. She loved to put different fruit smelling lotions on me after our shaving sessions. It felt really gay at first, but when a woman wants to pay attention to your dick, you let her do what she wants. I let her do that ever since we started living together. I thought, it was just her weird little thing. Now I realize she had always wanted to show me off. She was as proud of my equipment as I was. Until now, we had no one to share it with. Vanessa took one of my balls into her mouth and began to suck gently. She looked over at Celeste, who looked like the thought of doing that had never crossed her mind. Nevertheless, she took her big sisters lead and followed suit. She also tried to jack me off awkwardly with her hand until Vanessa took control of my dick. Vanessa wordlessly pressed my cock against my stomach. “You don’t want to jack his cock when you have his balls in your mouth. It’s hard on his skin and it’s too much too soon. You want to keep him on that edge so he will stay hard long enough. I just press it against his belly to keep it out of the way while I work his balls.” Vanessa instructed. “I never knew that,” Celeste replied. “Let me show you where all the sensitive parts are.” With that, Vanessa began to glide her tongue all around my hard cock. With all the pauses for instruction, my erection would begin to subside, when that would happen, Vanessa would suck me hard again and leave me there as spoke to her sister. Her sister idly fondled my balls as she listened intently. “Enough!” I said, “I’m getting too sensitive.” “Aww” they both gushed. “Poor baby..” with that they both let go of my dick which strained in the air, begging for attention. Vanessa maneuvered around to position Celeste on her back with her head in Vanessa’s lap. “You’re going to enjoy this,” Vanessa said as she looked at me. I could see in her eyes she wanted me to go down on Celeste. “Has anyone ever done this for you?” I asked. “No, never, you’re the first.” Celeste replied. I flashed a smile at Celeste as I brought her legs over my shoulders. I wanted her to know she was in good hands. My wife on the other hand was massaging her sisters tits and looking at me with an eager look in her eye. I focused at the task at hand. Celeste’s legs were tensed. I covered her mound with my hand. “Relax,” I said with a slight commanding tone. She looked at me with concern that she may be doing something wrong, but I gave her back a look that said, “Do as you’re told.” Her muscles eased and I moved down slowly. I could tell this was weird for her. Her little lips barely peeked out. I could barely see a hint of moisture from the inside. The little landing strip of hair pointed the way. Her pussy wasn’t much different from her sister’s. If anything, it just looked slightly younger which it was. I glided my tongue through her folds, eliciting a gasp. “This is the best,” Vanessa assured her, stroking her hair. With that I began with short licks which became longer licks. Then I sucked on her clit before I stuck my tongue in deeper. I love the sensation of eating pussy. I love the juices which dribble down my chin and I love working the clit with my nose. This may sound strange to say, but they had a similar scent and flavor, not strong at all and sweet like their kisses. Celeste began pulling on my hair and mashing her pussy against my mouth. I grabbed her ass from beneath for support and she dug her heels into my shoulders. Vanessa helped by holding Celeste’s legs up and apart. Every now and then, I would withdraw my tongue and glide around from her asshole to her clit. I like to lick my wife’s ass before I fuck her there and I wanted to see if Celeste would mind a little ass licking. I guess I was taking too long with my side trips because she grabbed a hand full of hair and pulled me back to her pussy. I knew she was close. I pulled her toward my mouth and fucked her with my tongue. I drove it in deep and twirled it around as she humped my face in response. Her hair pulling was beginning to become painful when I felt her spasm and oh, there was the flavor change. She was cumming. Coming hard too I might add. Her legs tensed up and she was pressing my body down into the bed while she pushed my head up with her pussy. It was quiet for a minute or two. I looked at my wife as she stared back at me with a smile. Celeste was panting between us. “That was incredible.” Celeste pulled herself up me and kissed me. Her juices still coated my face. They looked at me and looked at my dick which had just a big drop of pre-cum on the end of it. As they looked at it the big drop slowly fell to the floor, a shiny string slowing its descent. “Looks like someone needs some attention.” “I want to see you guys do it now,” Celeste said with eagerness. “I want to do you in the ass,” I said to Vanessa. She looked startled at the suggestion. “You guys do it in the ass?” Celeste asked. “Yeah, every once in a while,” I replied. “How about it honey?” My wife shot me a look of that said, “You sneaky bastard.” “Yes we do it that way once in a while. In fact, if you don’t want to get pregnant, it’s an alternative.” Vanessa informed her. “Sometime, you just need it and you don’t want anything else.” “Really?” Celeste was fascinated. “Doesn’t it hurt?” “Not if you use lube,” was Vanessa’s reply. She reached into the drawer to pull out our small tube of Astroglide. “This is the best stuff. Otherwise you have to use a lot of spit.” Vanessa said. “You mean you have to spit all over his cock?” Celeste asked. “Or you can do it like this…” I said as I turned Vanessa to lay on her stomach. She lifted her hips to get a pillow under her to lift her ass up off the bed. She then put a pillow under her head and rested her head in her arms as she turned toward Celeste. “You can’t help but enjoy this…” Vanessa’s words trailed off as I spread her ass cheeks and began to lick her asshole. I could tell by the shocked look on Celeste’s face that she thought this was just too damn nasty. “Vanessa’s ass is always clean. She keeps it that way for me.” I assured her. Then I went back to licking my wife’s ass, my tongue gliding over her small pink starfish, poking occasionally at the center until she is ready to open up. Celeste quickly got over her initial reaction. She stared at me as I stared back at her with my tongue slowly digging deeper into her sister’s ass. Celeste even tried to help as she spread her sister’s cheeks for me. I dipped my fingers into Vanessa’s honey pot and painted my cock with her juices. She always gets a lot wetter when she knows I’m going to go up her ass. After I was satisfied that she was lubricated enough, I positioned myself behind her. I rubbed the tip between her pussy lips to get it wet. Celeste reached for my cock to help guide it into her pucker. She stroked it twice, to make sure it was hard enough then looked at me. The sight of my wife’s little sister stroking my cock was mindblowing let alone knowing I was about to plow into her sisters ass. I could feel my wife’s fingers tickling my balls although she was mainly rubbing her own clit. Looking down at my cock in Celeste’s hands was indescribable. Her skinny arm matched up with the thickness of my rod. If it were not for the contrast of my dark skin against her creamy smooth skin, I wouldn’t have thought they were two different parts of two different people. Celeste pointed my cock down at her sisters asshole and gave it a tug. “No, no, this is how you do it.” I showed her, taking my cock in my free hand pushing the head slightly against the opening and pulling back. Pushing and pulling back. I repeated this until her asshole began to relax. I placed the tip in the opening. My rod was so shiny, more so from being the skin being pulled so tight from being hard than from my wife’s pussy juices. “Quit teasing me and put it in Jake!” my wife urged. At that, I plunged in, slowly, to the hilt on one continuously slow agonizingly long drawn out stroke. Celeste was fascinated. Vanessa let out a low guttural moan into the pillow.