0 comments/ 23351 views/ 1 favorites Spectator Sport By: Drmaxc It was a pleasant stroll in the sunshine. Randolph Trevais, unused to the bus­tle of London, was pleased by the greenness and comparative quiet of the many lawned oases within the great city. Finsbury Circus was no exception and he looked with pleasure at the City's planting, the great London Plane trees and the bowling green in the middle of the circular park. Even Randolph found it difficult to be grumpy on a day like today. A voice came from behind him; it was the girl he had just passed talking to the man with her. "It's always been a bowling green and people sit on the grass and stuff." Randolph was amused at the image the overused word conjured up. He missed the next few words but then heard, "It's not a spectator sport..." He smiled—presumably she was referring to the game of bowls for other­wise he disagreed. It would be very pleasant to sit on a park bench, in the warm sunshine, quietly watching couples stuffing. The idea appealed and Randolph did indeed sit down on a bench and, lean­ing back, closed his eyes, feeling very content in the quiet and warmth of the garden. He imagined the couples in his mind. The ginger, curly haired girl with her green spotty sundress pulled up to her waist, her panties on the grass by her side, one creamy round breast exposed to display a sweet shell pink nipple and her boyfriend, trousers removed, working between her thighs and hiding the profusion of ginger curls Randolph had only just glimpsed before entry. They were certainly stuffing. In his mind he turned to the tall dark haired girl with the small, remarkably conical, breasts topped by big puffy areolae. There was no shame about her, she had stripped off both jeans and blouse and had mounted her blond boyfriend to ride him with gusto. From Randolph's view­point the easy mechanical sliding of the penis was like the movement of hy­draulics—smooth and effortless, the sunshine making the hydraulic fluid shiny on the rod—at one moment the rod extended: the next hidden as the dark and blond curls merged—the yin and yang. Some couples made more discrete, furtive movements of hands in trousers, beneath shirts, beneath skirts but all with a gradual movement to­wards exposure and insertion—a communal need to rut in the warm sunshine. The Muslim girl, head modestly covered but trousers removed, the dark profusion of her curls revealed with the hint of hidden lips just glimpsed. Her boyfriend (husband?) with shiny headed circumcised penis at attention, no hint of foreskin to retain some passing modesty, slipping first between her nether lips before being hidden in the darkness between her legs. The pale, strawberry blond, naked but for a pair of fawn strappy sandals just showing little toes between the strap work and with each nail painted sil­ver, on her hands and knees being taken from behind by a tall black man. Ran­dolph smiled at the thought of her knees reddened and stained green from the exercise, showing beneath her dress on her way home from the park. To a casual observer there was nothing unusual about the short bearded man sitting on the park bench, eyes closed and with walking stick clasped in his hands. A passing pretty young office clerk in black skirt and tights did not give him a second glance and certainly could have no idea of the odd thoughts flowing through his head, might have been rather shocked by them: though no stranger to sex herself, even knowledgeable about pleasure with either of the sexes. She did not realise the remarkable ability possessed by the little man—but she had not seen his eyes, green eyes that caught and held you if you were unwary. Randolph Trevais, master hypnotist. Randolph rather liked cascading curls and watched yet another girl, blouse open, sucking her boyfriend, as her dark curls hung around her head. It was warm in the sunshine and for the young man in the blue suit perhaps a lit­tle too pleasant and warm in the girl's mouth for all of a moment his eyes shut and it was obvious to Randolph that he was coming, prematurely releasing his fluid into her mouth. Her eyes caught his and her shoulders gave a little shrug. Perhaps she needed a little help, someone to take over: was it an invitation? She held his eye as she let the wilting penis drop from her mouth and slowly, deliberately her little pink tongue ran across her lips drawing in a hint of es­caped semen. Did she want another penis to suck? Randolph opened his eyes and stood. Really, this was no good, day dream­ing of sex in the park. The girl with the cascading curls did not exist, the straw­berry blond wasn't there—he was just day dreaming. The ginger haired curly haired girl with her green spotty sundress who had been the first in his day­dream, did exist but was sitting, boyfriend less, demurely reading a book and most certainly did not have her panties on the grass to her side or one creamy breast exposed. Randolph was just daydreaming, but, and this was clear, he had a need to be satisfied. The Underground was crowded. It seemed to Randolph it always was. Had he ever sat down in a car? He leaned against the glass for support and looked around him at the variety of humanity pressed into close proximity. The train slowed at Chancery Lane and a girl got on. Randolph watched her from behind. Bare shoulders, thin white cotton top held up by little straps tied on her shoulders in bows, dark blue jeans below. He could not discern bra straps and, with the train starting, her hand went up to hold on to the roof rail stretching the material of her top. Randolph was wondering whether, if she turned, he would see her breasts pushed against the top, faintly through the thin material. But, when she turned, he was to be disappointed - there was a bra but it was strapless. Randolph's attention changed and he glanced to his side at a short, rather flat chested girl in a knee length blue skirt. Small breasts could be a pleasant change but it was not to be: she got off at the next stop be­fore he had even speculated about her or formed a plan. He turned back to the girl in the white top. What was she doing for the evening? He imagined, per­haps she was heading to see her boyfriend, going to a club and dancing into the small hours before returning to a flat. Once the flat door had closed he could visualise the lad undoing the little bows holding the straps, the top falling, the bra unclasped, breasts revealed. Would the nipples be hard, would the areolae be small or large, would the nipples point upwards, what shape the breasts - conical, rounded—there was so much variety! The boyfriend's lips closing on first one teat, then the other leaving them wet and elongated; jeans undone, a hand inserted, stirring the wetness between the legs; a falling into bed and the inevitable insertion; the energetic thrusting, the climaxes and sleep. Deep satisfied sleep. Randolph sighed. It would be good to watch the progress from door to bed but he did not want to stay up to the small hours whilst they clubbed and, in any case, how was he to be invited in to watch any­way? Few would welcome such a spectator to their sport, still less a joining in the game. Randolph smiled, a look that rather surprised the girl in question who happened to be looking at him. She got off at the next stop and Randolph was not inclined to follow. Randolph sighed, it seemed as if he was just going to be a spectator, idly watching the pretty girls and no more. Certainly walking through Covent Gar­den in the early evening gave plenty of opportunity for this. A girl caught his attention, leaning on railings chatting to her friends showed bare skin between her skin tight jeans and short top, displaying just the hint of dimples and cleav­age; his attention diverted to a young girl with almost boyishly slim hips yet a bust that was quite out of proportion to her slight frame—Randolph wondered if she was pleased by the ampleness of breasts or irritated by their ever pres­ence unbalancing her; then just as he was starting to wonder where to eat (probably move on to Soho) his eye was caught, particularly caught by a girl in a red top. It was not the head of hair, the pretty face or the red top as such which attracted his attention but the bra-less contents of the top. The sudden glimpse of the shape of her breasts suggesting that their roundness was sur­mounted by little cones, a suddenly steeper angle at the apex, and this was in­triguing and arresting. Were her areolae really that shape, did they really sit in little cone shapes atop rounded breasts? Randolph had to know more, gain a better look; perhaps even... his interest was certainly aroused. It was not speculation this time about the red topped girl's particular and real plans, she was definitely going to meet her boyfriend for she turned into a cafe and kissed the man who rose to greet her in a way which showed they were not simply friends, nor brother and sister. Randolph sat at a table a little away from them and settled to watch them, ordering a chilled Riesling whilst they sat and drank red wine. It certainly seemed as if the breasts were as he supposed, though it would have helped if he had been closer. Randolph's mind drifted back to the idea of the spectator sport. With 'Match of the Day' you had close ups, freeze frame, action replays, slow motion examinations of tack­les and goals. You also had football cards you could collect showing the play­ers as well as albums to stick them into. He wanted the card for this particular girl, one that showed all her details. What position did she play in, who had she played with, what were her attributes—even what was her name? He would also like to see her in the changing room showers. Randolph had a choice to make. Was he just to be a spectator; or was he to take a more active role with this girl, indeed with this couple. Did he want to know more about them, did he want to see more of the girl and indeed did he want to have sexual relations with the girl? He held up his glass admiring the colour of the liquid before changing his focus to the table with the couple. Yes, those breasts were very interesting and he would very much like a closer view - indeed hands on experience. His mind was made up. Now how was a master hypnotist to achieve his goal? The standing up of the man and his heading for the 'Gents' of the cafe gave Randolph an opportunity rather than a plan. A few moments later found him standing in the stalls next to the boyfriend. A simple enquiry led the man to look at Randolph, look into his rather curious green eyes and their hypnotic effect took over. Some minutes later Randolph came out of the 'Gents' his plan formed and half executed. It was not difficult to find an excuse to speak to the girl alone at the table, not difficult at all to get her to look into his eyes and lis­ten to his careful instructions. He already knew her name, knew a great deal about her from her boyfriend, knew their plans for the evening and the hotel they were staying in. Sitting once more back at his own table, Randolph finished his glass of Riesling and paid the waiter. Over at the other table the girl was looking around a bit puzzled as to where her boyfriend was but exactly ten minutes after Randolph had left him he returned to the table. Randolph let them talk for a bit and then stood up and made to leave the cafe passing their table. "Randolph!" The girl called with pleasure, "What are you doing in Lon­don?" "Hey Randolph!" said the boyfriend and before Randolph could answer turned to his girlfriend and said, "You know Randolph?" "Course I do, old family friend. You know him?" "Why yes I..." "Jessie, Hugh—well fancy meeting you—and together." Randolph shook hands and accepted their invitation to sit and drink some of their wine. Their pleasure at seeing their 'friend', their surprise at finding they had this friend in common and the unexpectedness of the meeting all con­spired to create jolly and animated conversation. It transpired that Jessie and Hugh were going to the theatre and on to dinner; had Randolph seen the play? No, would he like to join them and dinner afterwards? Despite the obvious na­ture of the evening as a 'date', the normal desire of a couple to be just that, both Jessie and Hugh seemed to be falling over themselves to have Randolph join them and were delighted to do so—it was not merely a polite invitation given with the hope of it being declined but quite the contrary, an insistence on acceptance and Randolph was delighted to do so. The play was good, the dinner excellent and the company marvellous. Ran­dolph had a superb evening and so did Jessie and Hugh despite the 'gooseber­ry' presence of Randolph. To be fair, Randolph could be very good company, when in a good mood, and he contributed as much to the evening's success as did the young couple. What was unfortunate, or apparently unfortunate, was nobody kept an eye on the time with the result that Randolph 'missed' his last train. "No matter," said Jessie, "our hotel room has a spare bed - ridiculously it has two double beds. Why would anyone want two double beds in a room?" Hugh made a slightly wine fuelled comment causing Jessie to blush. "Well maybe. You could have the spare bed; that would be all right wouldn't it Hugh?" Hugh looked momentarily unsure but nonetheless agreed to the sugges­tion. Randolph was all thanks, "if you really don't mind, hope I'll be no trouble, if you are quite sure..." The room was as Jessie had described but it was one thing to make the ca­sual offer, the reality with difficulties of undressing and sharing a bathroom was rather another, especially as Randolph had included an additional ingredi­ent to the mix, something he had added back in the cafe in his original hypnot­ic suggestions to them both: namely the closer they got to their room the more sexually excited they would become, the more in need of satisfying their mutu­al need, for more they desperately wanted to fuck. So as Randolph prattled on about how good the evening had been, how good they were to let him use their room, which bed should he take, who should use the bathroom first: all Jessie and Hugh could think of was how they would like to rip their clothes off and fuck in wild abandon. Their discomfort and their desire was so very obvious to Randolph and so very amusing. It was also pleasingly exciting as he would shortly be the specta­tor once more to some very interesting activity. They could have fucked in the bathroom but Randolph was so insistent they used it first, wouldn't hear of him taking precedence, given he hadn't any pyjamas it would be easier if he undressed in the dark etc, that there was not the opportunity as it would have kept him waiting an inordinate time. So Jessie and Hugh found themselves in bed fresh from the bathroom still with Ran­dolph talking away. Randolph did wonder if they would be 'at it' when he came out of the bath­room. Not as such, it transpired, but clearly there had been some fumbling. "Right, shall I turn the light out?" he said by the door. "Please. Goodnight Randolph." "Goodnight." With the light off it seemed to both Jessie and Hugh very dark indeed and, safe from being observed, they, initially at least, quietly began to make love. Hotel rooms being what they are, it was quite hot and it was not long before the duvet was pushed aside. To them this did not matter as, firstly, it was pitch black and, secondly, Randolph was, no doubt, asleep already—certainly he seemed very quiet and was breathing regularly. Jessie and Hugh were wrong on both counts. Firstly they merely believed the light to have been turned off. They saw, or rather did not see, what their minds told them and Randolph had arranged for them not to see. Secondly, Randolph was very much awake and was sitting cross legged on his bed with­out, as indeed he had said, his pyjamas or any clothes for that matter and it was physically evident, could Jessie and Hugh have seen him, that he was en­joying what he was seeing - as a spectator at Jessie and Hugh's sport. And of course what Randolph had particularly wanted to see was Jessie's breasts. Hidden within her pyjamas their shape had been more indistinct than within her earlier top. It was stimulating to watch Hugh's hands at work with­in that pyjama top but its pulling over Jessie's head was what Randolph had been awaiting, the answer to the question that had first excited him about Jessie—did her breasts rise to little cones? They did, they certainly did and now the little pink cones were crowned by the hard points of erect nipples. Randolph's hand moved on his penis—it was all he could do not to reach out and touch a breast but that was not in the hypnotism and would have pro­duced an outraged and shocked response (probably). It was, nonetheless, most enjoyable for Randolph to have live action to masturbate to, made extra thrilling by the occasional blank glances towards him by the performers, un­seeing in the pitch blackness that they thought enveloped them. Hugh's hands on Jessie's breasts certainly aroused Randolph's jealousy. He wanted to touch, to run his fingers up those little cones; feel the soft round­ness of her breasts in the palms of his hands; perhaps take a hard nipple be­tween his lips and pull; all the interesting things that could be done with breasts particularly those as unusually shaped and attractive as those. But Randolph would have to bide his time. When sleep came, it would come very deeply to the performers, his hypnosis had seen to that. They would be 'out for the count' and Randolph would have the opportunity of examining, touching, tasting even, at leisure. Not perhaps really participating but a cross between that and being a spectator: not live action but a chance to examine, touch and to an extent interact with the tableau. The pulling down of Hugh's boxers and the release of the already en­gorged item within was not particularly interesting to Randolph, he was not that way inclined, but what was to be done with the item and how it was to be used certainly was of interest. He lent forward in anticipation as Jessie's hand felt for and found the penis and squeezed. Almost immediately she went down on it but, unfortunately, the top of her head rather obscured her mouth's ac­tion from Randolph. To be fair this was not a staged bout, performed for the benefit of spectators, but very real—the amateur game—and Randolph had to accept its imperfections. Even so the sudden raising of Jessie's head when he made a small noise was a cameo delight—the blankly unseeing eyes looking straight at him, straight at Randolph's erect cock whilst at the same time her rounded lips continued to lick and suck with enthusiasm as they remained en­circled around Hugh's own cock. It was a superb image. Then the head low­ered again and all was obscured. The absence of hair, of even downy hair surprised Randolph when pyjama bottoms were pulled down and off. He had not expected Jessie to shave and was rather disappointed. He was a connoisseur, preferring his women au na­turel and not at all averse to a profusion, a luxuriant growth, but here was Jessie looking more like a little girl than a grown women. Was this Hugh's pref­erence? Perhaps he would ask Jessie in the morning using a little hypnotism of course. It was not a usual question for the breakfast table in polite company where Randolph came from. Randolph watched the play of Hugh's hand between Jessie's thighs and wondered whether he would go down on her too. He stroked as he watched. Of course he could see little of Jessie's sex, Hugh's hand and Jessie's thigh tended to obscure, particularly when she clamped her thighs tight together against the hand—but he would be able to examine at leisure once they were asleep. He watched with some amusement as Jessie began to move, her knees taking her sideways around the bed as she rotated one-hundred and eighty degrees around the axis of Hugh's cock, her mouth remaining clamped to the penis all the while as she moved her sex towards his own mouth, facing down rather than up the bed, changing to the 'sixty-nine' position. As she moved the axis on which she revolved came once more into view as Jessie's lips rotated around it and her knees arrived at and straddled Hugh's head. Once more Ran­dolph was able to see Jessie's lips at work, sliding on Hugh's cock as, at the same time, she lowered her sex onto Hugh's outstretched tongue. This prompt­ed Randolph to move his hand rather faster. They were being less careful to be quiet now and there were distinct slurping noises. Randolph desperately want­ed to join in but that was not in his plan. He had to sit cross-legged and be the spectator. Spectator Sport It was clear to Randolph that the pair were very excited, that had, after all, been in his instruction; and their movements were becoming faster and more urgent. Jessie was rocking her hips on Hugh's trapped face, rubbing her sex and, presumably, her engorged clitoris on Hugh's tongue. It was a pity, thought Randolph, that her little button would have subsided by the time he reached it after they had gone to sleep. It was always a pleasure to suck that lit­tle bundle of nerve endings into his mouth and tickle it with his tongue. Little was of course a relative term, it would be interesting to see how little or promi­nent it was in Jessie's case. There was the morning, though, with fresh instruc­tions. A further opportunity! Jessie came, her mouth dropping Hugh's cock as she arched her back her mouth still open and tongue extended as her whole frame shuddered and her eyes opened wide staring into nothingness. Randolph nodded to himself. A good performance but now it was time for the 'money shot.' Hugh needed to come as well. Would Jessie drop back onto his cock and take his semen in her mouth or would he push her onto her back and ejaculate in the more conventional receptacle? Of course if this had been a true performance for spectators the consensus seemed to be, from the films Randolph had occasionally seen, that the ejaculation should be visible to the audience, perhaps deposited as a 'facial' on the girl's head, or across her bot­tom following the penis' sudden removal from the 'doggy style' position or, again, across the girl's tummy after the penis' sudden extraction from conven­tional 'missionary position' intercourse. Jessie almost literally fell off Hugh and lay flat on the bed knees wide apart in a pose of complete abandonment and defencelessness leaving Hugh lying at her side looking rather wet both in face and cock. "Fuck me," she whis­pered but loud enough for Randolph to hear and once more he was amused to see the darted look in his direction. Randolph had every intention of doing that but the invitation was meant for Hugh. Randolph did not mind misinterpreting it as a general invitation which he would take advantage of as soon as sleep came. Hugh got between Jessie's thighs, her legs came up over his bottom and his bottom begun to move up and down. For the spectator this conventional intercourse position was perhaps the least interesting as so much was obscured, not least the join­ing of the bodies. Really all there was to watch was the male bottom rising and falling and the movement of pink female thighs. It was perhaps just as well. Randolph had nearly come in his hand twice and it would have been such a waste coming whilst still a spectator rather than a participant. He left his cock alone as Hugh reached his climax with particularly strong thrusts. There was a cessation of movement. Randolph kept still. "Fuck, that was good," came after a time. "Perhaps we should do it more often with a third person in the room!" There was a sleepy giggle. "Don't be silly. It would have been awful if Ran­dolph had woken up and heard us." "An audience! Imagine being watched fucking." There was a pause. "Awful. I can't imagine it. Spectators awarding points for style and effort" The voices were getting sleepier and the two bodies rolled apart. Randolph waited sitting quietly looking at the two naked bodies in repose until it was clear Jessie and Hugh were asleep. Hugh with his damp cock slightly dribbling the last of his ejaculate onto his thigh, Jessie curled up with the roundness of her bottom showing to good effect. With the performers asleep it was time for the watcher to change roles. At last he was able to stand, ease the cramp from sitting too long cross-legged and take a closer look and, moreover, touch the performers. He stretched and went around to Jessie's side of the dou­ble bed and sat next to her, his penis which had subsided a little now rising to attention as he looked at her breasts—the part of Jessie which had inspired the whole escapade. They were round but with the areolae rising in little cones to the still prominent nipples. Randolph kissed her lightly on the lips. "Sleep tight," he said as his fingers touched the cone of her left breast, the skin smooth and just so slightly damp. His fingertips traced up and down the smooth pink cone just lightly brushing the nipple each time and all the while he could feel the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, fast asleep. He bent and took the cone, nipple and all, into his mouth and sucked, feeling the nipple and cone elongate as he applied suction. Jessie stirred but Randolph was confident in his hypnotism—she would not wake until morning not if a whole brass band marched into the room and played the 'Liberty Bell' march all night long. He looked again at the breast. It was quite wonderful—just as he had imagined back in that cafe. Randolph dozed. It was very early in the morning. He had been momentar­ily surprised on awakening to find himself not in his hotel room but in another room and with other people but then he remembered and smiled to himself. He had got himself into a bit of a funk the day before finding himself an out­sider, watching not participating. His eventual participation had not been quite what he had hoped. Yes he had had the opportunity of inspecting Jessie closely, but an unresponsive woman, a woman fast asleep and a woman rather used by another man had not proved quite as exciting as he had hoped. Oh yes he had fucked her all right and added his own contribution to Hugh's deposit but it had been rather a cross between watching and participation. Certainly Jessie had been a most passive participant. He had enjoyed opening her legs, splaying them as she slept, once he had taken his fill of her quite exquisite breasts, displaying her naked sex unadorned by even the wisp of hair. If asked, he would have described her vulva as 'clam-like' with frilly scalloped edges. It was still rather puffed up from the recent activity but whilst the dribble of white escaping from the recently vacated passage was erotic to view, it was rather odd to touch and feel the recent ejaculation of another man on his fin­gers and still another thing altogether to think of tasting the girl and sucking on her clitoris as he had previously been minded to do. He found himself there­fore still the watcher, more inclined to watch the penetration of his own penis than simply to engage in fucking as he would have done had Jessie been awake and, of course, willing. To make watching easier he pulled her across the bed and stood on the floor rather than kneeling between her thighs. The lining up and touching with his glans penis took rather longer than it might have taken a man anxious to begin fucking and feel the sensation of penetration, the smooth sliding. It was observation, participative pornography, rather than fucking, the emphasis on the visual rather than the sensual. Watching as he slid his penis along the slick wetness of Jessie's vulva and then letting the glans slide upwards right to the end of the crack of her mons pubis and then onwards to rise upwards in an impressive curve as the shaft continued to slide up the crack until he could feel his balls become wet. It was almost as if he was posing his penis for photographing—photographs to look at. Randolph en­joyed watching his penis head at the very entrance to Jessie and then see it slowly disappear, inch by inch until she had his black curly hair right up against her making her look as if she had hair on her mons after all. He was fascinated and slightly disconcerted by watching the slow extraction of his penis as it reappeared from inside Jessie but now coated with the sexual liq­uids of both Jessie and Hugh. Randolph began the sexual movement in earnest, a most enjoyable pas­time but he was still watching, watching his penis moving to and fro, in and out of Jessie, watching the pleasing and regular movement of Jessie's breasts as he pushed against her, watching her face in repose—all innocence—as he, a stranger fucked her. Half spectator, half participant, in a sport for one player—a game of patience rather than a contest. Not a contest like the game of bowls in Finsbury Circus. It was not that his coming was a disappointment, he had been building towards it all day from the moment he had day-dreamed right through watching Jessie and Hugh on the bed: but it was not true participation. Now awake in the early morning and finding himself erect once more Ran­dolph resolved to remedy the deficiency. Oh yes, he might watch for a time but he intended to be a participant, to use his hypnosis to be invited into the early game that Jessie and Hugh were sure to want to play. His need was to speak to each individually and renew their instructions, developed somewhat to his new requirements. There was no movement, as yet, from the other bed. Randolph considered how he could speak to each individually. Actually he only needed to speak to one alone; his fresh instructions would allow a conversation with the second. The necessity for a call of nature brought him to the bathroom and standing there it occurred to him that this was perhaps the place to wait for one or other of them. It was Hugh who came in first—naturally he was surprised to see Ran­dolph but it did not take many soft words given the effect of Randolph's sur­prisingly captivating eyes before he was listening very carefully to what Ran­dolph had to tell him. It was probably his return to bed which prompted the al­most immediate arrival of the second visitor to Randolph's bathroom. Now the visit of a naked Hugh had not been more than the necessary preliminary to something else but the arrival of Jessie just buttoning up her pyjama top caused a slight change of Randolph's plan. Taking control of her, despite her surprise, was the matter of a few moments. Not only did he issue instructions about fucking Hugh on the bed in full sight of the apparently surprised Ran­dolph and to find an inability to reach orgasm with Hugh and a consequent need to ask Randolph to help out—but he also made her think he was Hugh whilst still in the bathroom. It was very pleasant to kiss Jessie and feel her re­spond, still nicer to undo her buttons one by one and watch the pyjama top fall open and reveal, once again, her darling little breasts with the pink cones and still another to touch her naked mons for it was just the pyjama top she had put on. "Hugh, don't do that I'm desperate for a pee." Despite her protestations Randolph guided Jessie into the shower cubicle. The water was warm and the soap slippery. It was a great pleasure to soap and wash Jessie, his hands and fingers slipping soapily all over her body and of course when he touched her sex again Jessie had had to say she couldn't hold on any longer and he had the additional pleasure of feeling Jessie's own hot shower on his hands as he played with her sex. The compliment was returned and Randolph revelled in the participation, his hard cock sometimes just touching Jessie's skin, other times pressed quite closely. Jessie wanted her hair washed and Randolph was more than happy to oblige as she knelt and sucked him as he massaged first shampoo then conditioner into her hair. Just as the evening before, Randolph was careful to hold off coming—that was for later. Even towelling Jessie dry was a delight, giving him the opportunity of sucking upon her swollen clitoris as she stood, legs apart, on the bathroom floor. It was of discernible size and easily suckable despite the squeals. Randolph let Jessie out first knowing as soon as she left she would forget her recent encounter and, sexually excited, she would seek out the real Hugh in bed, suck his penis which would cause him to wake and they would begin mak­ing love. Randolph stood looking in the mirror; perhaps he should give his beard a trim? Certainly it would be an idea to give Hugh and Jessie a few min­utes to get going before they suddenly realised they had a spectator. It would give his ejaculation-ready penis time to calm down a little as well. He looked down at it in the mirror as it loomed up and over the washbasin. Jessie did fel­late very well. He would have to visit her again for some more practice. Per­haps he should get himself invited to join them for a weekend or perhaps, bet­ter still, be invited to Jesse's for a weekend without Hugh. It needed to be some­where secluded and warm as he would rather like her wandering around naked most of the time so he could watch her, watch her wonderful breasts, take in her body and, moreover, have her available to him whenever he wished. The surprise of the couple was evident; they had, strangely, forgotten all about inviting Randolph to stay the night and his sudden appearance from the bathroom clad only in a towel around his waist could not have come at a more embarrassing time. Imagine being caught, suddenly seen and observed by a friend whilst both engaged in oral sex! The girl catching sight of the friend and suddenly turning her head a bit more to see him clearly but with her boyfriend's penis very obviously deep in her mouth restricting her cry; the boyfriend unable to see but hearing the exclamation and he too turning his head and his eyes opening wide in surprise as the girl's sex rises off him, a sex no doubt fully visible to the friend indeed, with the bottom pointing in his direction, very possibly even the girl's anus vis­ible. Can you imagine your surprise, still more the thought, "How long has he been watching?" The reassurance of the friend, "Don't mind me, carry on, per­fectly natural..." The even stranger surprise of you doing that, actually carrying on your in­timacy with this spectator watching you and it becoming evident to you that he is enjoying the spectacle because there is a rising upwards of the towel showing that the boyfriend does not have the only erect cock in the room. Jessie could not believe she was doing this—it was so embarrassing. Had she not said to Hugh the night before, as they had made love whilst Randolph slept, how awful it would be to be watched whilst having sexual intercourse—yet here she was doing just that and rather liking it, she felt she was perform­ing and into her mind came the strange thought that it would be even better to have the benefit of two cocks at once. The idea seemed to take hold, once in her mind, she could not get it away and she began to look with increasing frequen­cy at the rising of the towel very evidently caused by Randolph's penis. What could she say, what could she do? Randolph was of course not unaware of Jessie's dilemma. He was the cause of it after all! Hugh likewise was surprised, not only at himself for not feeling complete­ly fazed at having Randolph watching him but also at Jessie seeming to be equally unconcerned. Leastways she had settled again on his face, his mouth was again pressed deeply into her sweet, soft wet flesh and she was moving against him—he could actually see nothing. Presumably Randolph was watch­ing, watching his naked girlfriend wriggling on top of him, watching her shaven sex move, seeing his hands holding her round breasts and watching her lips move on his exposed and naked cock. No man had ever seen his erect cock before and here he was hard and completely exposed yet could not even see this spectator, trapped as he was by Jessie's thighs. Would it not be better to ask Randolph to leave? He felt Jessie moving, and then he could see again; his first glance was at Randolph sitting, watching like a spectator at a sports' match. Watching, what was more, with a very obvious erection pushing at the towel around his waist. "Fuck me now please, Hugh." The request made with another in the room! It was not that easy for Hugh, so conscious of Randolph being there, to perform, to do what Jessie asked; but there she was on all fours on the bed, completely naked and just so slightly wiggling her rump at him, she wanted to be taken doggie fashion. Why not missionary so he would not see Randolph, could then almost ignore him as he nuzzled Jessie's hair or kissed her? But she did not want this and he could feel, no see, Randolph's eyes on his cock as he held it ready to push into Jessie, see him smile as contact was made and entry achieved. Hugh could not but enjoy fucking Jessie, feeling her soft bottom against his thighs yet he was being watched. Was Randolph assessing his per­formance? He tried to make his performance manly, emulate the way actors performed in the less reputable sort of films he had watched. "I, I don't like to see you left out." It was Jessie's voice and it left Hugh momentarily puzzled. What was she saying? What did she want? But she was addressing Randolph and to Hugh's disbelief she was beckon­ing Randolph, inviting him forward. Hugh did not miss a thrust but he was staggered to watch Randolph rise, let the towel fall and reveal himself and for Jessie to take him in hand and pull him by his cock towards her. And then she was licking his cock, yes her tongue was actually on Randolph's penis; his girl­friend was licking another man's cock! His view was not obscured; Randolph was slightly to the side of her. Hugh could see Jessie's tongue slipping around the swollen plum of Randolph's penis head and then as Hugh gave a slightly harder thrust her lips went around it. It was bizarre, as Hugh pushed forward against Jessie's bottom and felt the hot slipperiness of her sex on his penis; the effect was to push Jessie's mouth onto Randolph's cock. Not only was he watching the porn-show of his girlfriend blowing a man but he was the agent of the movement, his hands clasped Jessie's hips, he could control the blow-job, he was not just watching but involved, indeed he was the prime mover of the scene, he was causing the action. It was erotic, excitingly so. Hugh was fas­cinated and excited by watching what his girlfriend was doing. As he pushed her lips slipped up Randolph's cock; as he pulled back they slid back up; he could pull her right off, let the plum out into the air, and then push again and the lips would part and the plum slip in. Hugh pushed harder and felt the sen­sation building, the electric feel of the imminent orgasm. Across Jessie's back his eyes caught those of Randolph and it seemed as if whilst the gaze held so did his orgasm freeze on the brink, a delicious sensation as he pushed and pulled—the 'freeze frame' of an orgasm. Then his gaze dropped and he cried with the intensity as he pumped and pumped into Jessie before falling back on the bed quite exhausted. Hugh was relegated to spectator. His bolt shot, his gun fired, his powder used, he no longer had a penis of interest to Jessie. He sat on Randolph's bed in some confusion, his damp cock lying spent on its nest of hair whilst Ran­dolph with his strong erection took over the task of bringing Jessie to orgasm. Maybe his strength would return by the time Randolph was finished and he could take his rightful place with his girlfriend but for now he had to sit in the outfield, a mere observer—a spectator whilst Randolph fucked his girlfriend. Hugh's coming had left Jessie unfulfilled and she was quick to present her rump to Randolph inviting him to take Hugh's place. Naturally Randolph was happy to sink into Jessie and enjoy the experi­ence of feeling Jessie's buttocks pushing against his thighs and feel again the velvety wetness of her sex on his cock but this time with the very positive in­volvement of Jessie as she pushed hard back against him. Randolph looked at Hugh and raised his eyebrows and nodded as if registering a male fellow feel­ing about the girl. Watching was good but actually it was better to be involved and watched! There was no need for haste; Randolph set the pace of his strokes so as not to rush the coming; not for him the quick ejaculation; he was going to savour this -- and did. It was amusing to watch the spectator, see Hugh sitting there, spent, watching him now performing with Jessie, being able to lean for­ward across her back and take her dear breasts in hand and feel the hard points surmounting those so interesting cones. Really this had all proved such a satisfactory plan, steadily moving from idle spectator to star performer -- for it would be he who brought Jessie to orgasm. Spectator Sport Dressed once more, Randolph left the couple in bed just starting again to make love. They had expressed their disappointment at his leaving, was he sure he wouldn't like to join in again? When would they see him again? Was he quite sure he wouldn't like to...? Randolph had very much enjoyed his bout with Jessie and had ensured she had come very well indeed. Jessie had then half collapsed forward, her arms unable to support her weight, but leaving her bottom high in the air still connected to Randolph. Still pushing against her soft bottom, Randolph had come most pleasantly, adding generously to Hugh's earlier donation. But he then felt it was time to go, time to get on with his plans for the day. He dressed quickly and thanking Jessie and Hugh for use of the spare bed he had gently closed the door to their room. Randolph stepped, rather jauntily for him, down the hotel steps, stick tap­ping on the stone, and out into the waiting sunshine and in search of breakfast -- he was in need of a 'Full English' to restore his strength. In the hotel room Jessie and Hugh looked at each other - had they really just done that with Ran­dolph? He was a good friend but...