4 comments/ 12266 views/ 6 favorites The Conspiracy By: Malinov Jennifer and I have known each other since high school, but we've really been good friends for about three years, since we both moved from Easton to Landover in the summer of 19-. We dated at one point for seven crazy weeks, about a year after we settled into our big city lifestyle. We crashed and burned. No one could deny that Jenny and I made a fun couple, but in truth, the relationship did not work at all. I think we're too much alike; headstrong, outgoing, competitive. On the other hand, as friends, Jennifer and I make one hell of a team. It was a Thursday night when Jenny called me up and asked me to come over. I could tell by the intensity in her voice that something was up. Jennifer didn't disappoint me. That's part of what I like about her. She always has something going on. I let myself in and stole a beer from the fridge. "Sit down, sit down," buzzed Jenny. Alicia sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the grey screen of the television. "Hey, Alicia," I said, taking my appointed place on the sofa. I liked Jennifer's roommate. Alicia is very much different from either of us, quiet and reflective, but she has a wicked streak that always startles me when it peeps out. I'd been developing a thing for her, which gave me a stronger tendency to visit Jenn. I took every opportunity to be thoughtful and gracious toward the roommate, without doing anything to betray my growing affection overtly. Alicia had a relationship with some guy in Jersey and she seemed quite devoted to it. "Here's the deal," said Jennifer, straddling a tall stool and locking her feet under the cross bars. "Alicia went to school with this guy, Phil and he's down for the summer. I've been trying to, you know, get his attention, and all he does is smile at me like I'm his bratty kid sister." I nodded understandingly, playing the wise counselor. "So Alicia had a little talk with her friend." Jenn sneered as she spoke. Alicia interrupted. "He told me that he thought Jenny was a sweet girl, but he just couldn't see her that way, sexually." Alicia twisted her smile as she pondered this comment. "Ooh," groaned Jennifer. "I mean, I've worn skirts up the here and blouses down to here and the most I've gotten from Phil is a blush." "Are you sure he's not gay?" I asked. Jenn slapped her thigh. "He'd better be. Can't see me sexually, my butt." "He's not," offered Alicia authoritatively. "He's had girlfriends for as long as I've known him. He was dating this woman, Michelle, before he came down for the job at ICS. She's pretty hot, if you believe the stories." "All right, so you're not his type, Jenny." I thought the whole thing pretty amusing by this point. I knew Jennifer well enough to understand what was going on. Her pride was wounded by this stiff, and Jenn wasn't one to take an insult calmly. "Alicia thinks I am. And I know he's my type. Worth a test run, anyway." "So, what's the plan?" "I don't think she's being bold enough," said Alicia. She pushed a long silky stream of hair behind her ear. "I think Phil likes his women enthusiastic about sex, and Jenn got off on the wrong foot." "It was that stupid movie we saw, The Pride of Joy". It was just idiotic, and I kinda went ballistic about this slutty woman in the film. But God and everyone knows, I'm no prude." "Amen," I said. "But if Phil thinks I'm some kind of hung-up, tight-laced choir girl, I think it's time he saw a different side of Miss Jennifer Margaret Delany." "Which means?" I asked. "Alicia is going to dinner with Phil on Saturday night. When they're done, she's going to bring him back here. You and I will be in my bedroom when they arrive. Alicia maneuvers him out onto the balcony, so she can complain about Brian in the moonlight." Jennifer got off her stool and lead us outside. The balcony of their apartment had sliding glass doors leading from the main living space and from both of the bedrooms on either side. The view, overlooking the river, is magnificent. With rent control, they got a fantastic deal on the place. "I love this balcony," I said. "So, it's dark out here and they start talking. We're in my bedroom with my lamp on and the door slid open just a crack. Alicia says, 'what's that?'" "What's that?" Alicia asked. "And?" I asked. "I fuck your brains out, while Phil watches." I swallowed dryly. My face probably turned a dull red. My heart pounded a powerful bass beat. I looked seriously at Jennifer, the heavy swell of her breasts, the smooth creamy skin, the full lips, fertile hips, golden hair streaming past her strong shoulders, lean thighs, blue blue eyes. "Wow," I said. Alicia smiled wickedly, her tongue barely touching the back of her lips. "Yeah?" "You've got to do this for me, Mark," insisted Jenny, taking my arm and pulling me closer. Her tit brushed against my skin. Alicia blushed slightly. "All right," I said agreeably. "Yes!" said Jennifer, bouncing in her glee. My prick began to swell in anticipation. It stayed that way until Saturday night. I did my best not to touch my soldier, anxious to save myself for the command performance. Jennifer and I had made a lousy romantic pair, but one aspect of our relationship had been unquestionably superior. Calling Jenn a prude was, perhaps obviously, anything but accurate. In the light of day, we fought, we bickered, we nagged and nit-picked each other far beyond the limits of acceptable couple behavior. That was us with our clothes on. Put us in a bed, naked, and we rocked. I've had more than my share of women in the two years since Jennifer. Not one of those pretty ladies could hold a candle to Jenn when it came to burning up my bed. The curves of Jenn's voluptuous body are inspiring, but what really marks Jennifer as a superb lay is her creative enthusiasm. Jenn shocked me with her suggestions, and never evidenced even the slightest hesitation when I managed to think of some new approach to bringing us satisfaction. When she decided to give herself to a relationship, the surrender was complete. Jenn had fucked me with a reckless abandon. I had missed her relish for sex frequently since we went our own ways. We sat on her bed. I had stripped down to a pair of boxer shorts. Jennifer wore a silk chemise which hung low from thin blue strands off her freckled shoulders. Her nipples knotted and relaxed in rhythmic succession under the fine fabric. Jenny toyed with an old grey bear nestled cozily in her lap. She had that stuffed animal when we dated. "I've missed this," I said. Jenn smiled happily. "I know," she said shyly. "You were always the best." "It's too bad," I said, putting my hand on her knee. "I wish we could have better for each other." "I don't know, Mark," she said. "Being friends has been pretty good, too." Jenn was quiet, somber. I squeezed her thigh. "Oh, Jennifer. You're my best friend. But I wish I knew a woman I could love like I wish I could love you." "Mark?" Jenn said. "This isn't going to mess us up, is it?" "No." I said, emphatically. "I mean, this is a wild way to impress Phil, but really fucking exciting, you know? I'm charged. But I don't want to lose anything important playing sex games. I don't want to lose you." She looked up, sorrowfully, a glimmer of a tear in her eye. "Jenny, you forget who you're talking to. We've done crazier stuff than this. Hell, this is pretty tame, all things considered. You're my best friend, partly because you're so crazy." "But we can't fall in love again. It doesn't work. What if I make you love me again?" "You won't. I mean, you will, but I won't. Besides, this is bigger than us. You want to make Phil want you. But do you want to know a secret? I'm going to make Alicia want me." Jennifer threw her arms around me, laughing. I cupped the bare globes of her bottom in my hands as I embraced her. "This is going to be so fun," she said. I squeezed her ass and agreed. A door clicked open and shut. "Jennifer?" Alicia called out. We fell quietly onto the bed. Footsteps wandered over the creaking floorboards, back and forth. Jenny and I exchanged kisses while our hands traversed naked skin. Shadows moved beyond the glass door. Soft voices muttered in the darkness. Jennifer smiled broadly and kissed me. "Break a leg," she whispered. "Ooooh," she moaned softly, rising up from the mattress. She pulled my boxers down my legs. "What was that?" I heard Alicia ask. The shadows crept closer to the window. Jennifer kissed my hard dick and lifted her bottom, letting the silk chemise slip down to her waist. I could see her creamy white ass gleaming with the pale light in the mirror of her dresser. "Wow," I distinctly heard a choked male voice say. I shook my head in disbelief. If we weren't expecting company, his exclamation would have ended the show. Already I was convinced that Phil didn't deserve my Jenny. She sucked my prick with serious strokes, wet and lavish with a swirl of attention while she slowly waggled her backside toward our audience. "Suck my big cock, Jennifer Margaret," I said, lifting my hips to drive myself in. Jenn smiled and tickled my balls. I stole a glance at the window. Two silhouettes hovered beyond the glass reflection of Jenny's pale ass. "Drink my dick down," I growled. I pulled at the drapes of silk while Jenn reached back to tickle her clit. Jennifer's alabaster tits hung low, full and liquid with her faint brown nipples stretched wide by the sagging weight. I felt a shudder course my body as I squeezed the soft flesh. I loved seeing her titties that way, so feminine, so giving. Jennifer squirmed as I teased her nipple erect, and I felt tempted to spill my excitement into her mouth. Knowing she had more in mind than a flash of her ass, I put a hand on her shoulder. "Ride me, Jenny," I demanded. She looked over with a broad smile and with a hand firmly around my prick, she moved over me. Her silk chemise fell smoothly down her tummy, shrouding us as she sank my cock suddenly into her wet cunt. Jennifer put her hands on my chest and stole a few strokes before she reached up and lifted the chemise over her head. Her nipples shuddered, firm nuggets marking the rise and fall of Jenn's fluid breasts. She arched her back, giving me a glimpse of her swollen pink clit at the crossroad of our pubic forests. Her firm tits stood divine, jutting in arousal. Jennifer shook her golden mane wild, loose, as she lowered her blue eyes back to stare like a hungry beast into mine. "I'm going to fuck you crazy," she announced and began to take my prick for a ride. I watched her titties bouncing with each mad thrust of her hips. Jenn was fantastic. She pulled herself up, off my throbbing dick and planted her golden cunt on my face, drenching me in her juices. I sank my tongue inside her and licked her soft lips and stiff clit. She screamed a fierce orgasm. Without missing a beat, Jenn rolled around to suck my dick again as I licked her pulsing cunt and teased her ass. I knelt behind Jennifer and drove my cock down hard inside. "You are the best fuck," I said, slapping her ass. "Oh, fuck me," she groaned. I rocked into her furiously until the rhythm began to overtake me. "Come in my mouth," Jennifer said softly. "Oh, baby," I said, pulling out of her slick lips. "Gladly." "Let's show Alicia what a fine cock you have, lover." She smiled at me, licking my dick with her tongue. I knelt on top of the bed, offering a profile to the crowd outside. Jennifer suckled expertly, knowing exactly the rhythms that would make me lose control. I laced my fingers through her fine hair and felt the tremble start down deep. "I love you, Jenny" I whispered as the orgasm took hold. "Mmm," she said, drinking me down. We lay back on the bed. Jennifer flashed her pussy, spreading it wide toward the window as she played with her clit and kissed me. "I love you, too, Mark," she said. "I can't believe how great you are." "Delicious," she said, turning over. I looked toward the window. The ghosts had vanished. "Do you really think this will make Phil want you?" I asked. "Who knows?" asked Jennifer, reaching down to pick up the stuffed bear off the floor. "Who cares? I just couldn't stand some gorgeous guy going around saying he couldn't imagine me sexually. I mean, what a crock." I kissed her nipple and pulled her on top of me in a loving embrace. "Do you think Alicia wants me now?" "She already did. This naughtiness was all her idea. I think she just wanted to see if you were really as good as I said." "Was I?" "Better," Jenn said, kissing me softly. "But there's no honor among thieves. You're mine, now. If you'll have me." Jennifer pouted for a moment, waiting, gazing at me with sultry blue eyes. "Jennifer Margaret," I said seriously. "That was my plan, all along." ~~~ Malinov The Conspiracy Some things just aren't meant to be. Physical impossibilities, like apples falling up, or frogs singing The Star Spangled Banner. Things that are way too remote to count on, like rolling twenty consecutive sevens. Or, at odds of one in 175 million, you could include winning the Power Ball in that category, too. You can add to that list the way my friend Jason was feeling about striking up a lingering relationship with Nancy Peterson. It just seemed totally impossible! Now I'd known Jason since high school, and I knew that he was a good guy. Trouble was that he was so completely, absolutely, through and through, scrupulously, microscopically honest that he projected his feelings to the world, including his lack of self confidence. He was incapable of putting up a brave, cocky front to make a good impression. How many times have you met some guy who came up to you with a friendly smile and firm handshake and said something stupid like, "Glad to meet you, sir," and you came away thinking, "Now there's a good young man, solid, sensible, intelligent. Got a real future ahead of him." Chances are the guy in question could be a forger or rapist or foreign spy, but his good first impression had carried the day. Now for every one like him, there are a dozen others whom you have barely noticed, or turned away from, who never even made it to the handshake because of the initial impression they projected. Fact is, I'm one of the favored few with the firm handshakes et cetera, which helped a lot when I was lining up investors. Jason, on the other hand, falls into the company of losers who never even get a turn at bat. Okay, suppose you're that kind of a loser. Makes sense that after a while you'd become adjusted to it and you'd lower your expectations, right? Of course, and that's just what they all do, all except Jason. He came into my garage one day when I was working on one of my sports cars. They're a hobby of mine, and this one was a really sad-looking MGB roadster that would provide plenty of challenge for a few months yet. Oh, wait. You don't know me, do you? Then I ought to explain that I invented a couple of trivial gadgets that hit it off well with housewives, and then parlayed the income from those little beauties into a pretty potent portfolio that supports my wife and me comfortably whether we ever do another day's work or not. I bought a nice house on a small man-made lake, and then bought and demolished the house next door to build a garage that could house a dozen cars, six across by two deep, with additional shop space ahead of their front bumpers and an unfinished second floor that could be turned into another spacious home. Usually I can be found tinkering on my toys in my wonderful playroom, and in good weather I often keep the south-facing overhead doors open to let in daylight, fresh air, and the occasional neighbor who wants to indulge his curiosity or talk about the prospects of our floundering football or blundering baseball team. But on that day when I was removing the rear end of the MG from its accustomed perch on the rear springs, Jason walked in and I swear the air temperature dropped ten degrees and a cloud blotted out the sun. I rolled out from under the car on my creeper and wiped my hands, looking at Jason and taking a wild guess. "Either the sky has fallen or you struck out with Nancy again," I ventured, and he nodded. The sky looked okay to me, so I zeroed in on Nancy. "Did you talk with her or just turn and walk away as usual?" "Well, both. I talked, and she seemed friendly enough, but I couldn't think of much to talk about so I finally said 'Have a nice day,' and left." "You know, saying almost anything would have been better than walking away. I bet if you'd said, 'I'd love to get into your pants!' she probably would have come back with some remark that would start a conversation. O you could try, 'I bet your pussy tastes better than ice cream.' Even if she'd slapped your face, she'd know how you feel about her and then you could go back later and apologize, and that would get something going between you two. How can I ever get you to think positively and go at this Nancy project as if you just know it's all going to work out? Maybe I ought to go at this from the other end, and have a talk with Nancy. How would you feel if I could tell you that she has a case of the hots for you? I wonder if that'd work?" "No, don't say anything to her. That'll just make it worse." "Nonsense. It can't get any worse. The worst thing that could happen is that she'd say she isn't interested in you, and then you can just back off and try with someone else. But I've watched her eye you when you weren't looking. I think she's just looking for you to make any advance at all and she'll pounce on you." "Hah. Fat chance." "Okay, here's how I'll leave it. You're probably right, so I won't mess you up. You just go on trying this your way, and I'll keep my nose out of it. Suit you?" "Yeah, I guess so. Well, see ya around." I waited till Jason had walked down the street to his house, and when I was sure he couldn't hear I pulled out my cell phone and made a call. "Nancy? Chuck Farmhill here. What's the best looking girl in the county doing on a beautiful afternoon like this?" "No, that's the whole reason I called, just to see how you are. But as long as I've got you on the phone, there's something important we need to talk about. Got time to drop over here to my garage? I can't very well go out on the street looking like this, with my coveralls on and all smeared with dirt and grease, but you always look so perfect that you'll brighten up the neighborhood as you walk over here." "Tell you what: just come in the garage. The doors are wide open. We'll grab a couple of iced coffees out of the fridge and go out on the patio and talk." "Okay, great." I know Nancy, and I know a little bit about women in general. She'd take ten minutes deciding what to wear over here, then a half hour to shower and dry and style her hair, another half hour to dress and put on makeup so carefully that she'd look as if she didn't wear any, then finally make the five minute walk from her house to mine. So I checked the fridge to see that it was properly stocked, went out and arranged two chairs carefully on the patio overlooking the lake, put some CDs on the player, and then went back to work on the MG. I had the driveshaft wiped down and inspected and the universal joints apart when she arrived, looking like the cover of a women's magazine. "Damn it, Nancy, how do you always look so stunning? And why? Got any idea how many of the housewives around here hate you? I don't know the exact number, but for a rough guess let's say all of them. How do the kids in your class pay attention to their lessons when they'd rather look at you?" "That's why I teach the primary grades, get 'em before their testicles have descended. But I always get the most fathers out on parent-teacher conference nights, so I guess I haven't lost it yet." "Come on out to the backyard." As we walked past the refrigerator I opened the door and waved my arm. "Help yourself to whatever you'd like." We walked down the hall past the rest room and the doors to the stockroom and the shop, and out onto the patio that was shaded from the afternoon sun by the house and the big acacia tree. We settled into the chairs that offered a view of the wide part of the lake, with the island off to our left, the clubhouse at the far right, and the waterfronts of a dozen well-kept houses in between. Nancy led off the conversation. "I've got a good idea what you want to talk about. Want to bet on it?" "Sure. A dollar says you're wrong." "I wrote it down on this slip of paper." She pulled a little sheet from a memo pad out of her purse and set on the table between our chairs. "Hold on while I write mine down." I pulled out a piece of paper where I'd been jotting notes about what I need to get for the MG, and wrote on the back. Then I pulled out a dollar bill. "Here's my money. Where's yours? Put up or shut up." "Right here, but I really don't need it because I'm gonna win." "Okay, when I count to three we'll both turn our papers over. One, two, three." We looked at the two places where the name "Jason" had been written. Nancy smiled and picked up my dollar. "All right, Chuck, let's talk. You tell me, what do I have to do, pull his pants down on the sidewalk and give him a blowjob in front of everybody on the street?" "Hey, that might work. But seriously, we've got to do something. Every time I see him, Jason looks a little more dejected. You know what a good person he is. He's loved you since seventh grade. If you settle down with him, you'll never have to wonder whether he's fooling around on you, or worry about what he'll do when you get older and put on a few pounds or get crow's feet by your eyes. Jason loved you when you were a skinny adolescent, before you filled out to where you could model swimsuits. He loves you for what you are, not what you look like. If we don't get this moving along it's going to ruin both your lives. And I wouldn't be much of a friend to either of you if I just stand back and let that happen." "Sure. You're right on all counts, but you're preaching to the choir. What can we do?" "It shouldn't take much. Think about creating a situation that's unusual, so that we can shock him out of his comfort zone and get some action going. And while we're at it, you'll have to drop the innocent maiden act and be ready to grab him as soon as he shows a glimmer of interest." "Aw, gee, after all these years of trying to act ladylike, you want me to show my true self?" "Nancy, I know your true self better than you do. I want to see you two together before I die because you're both good people and you deserve each other." I sat and reflected for a few seconds. "If he doesn't ask me to be his best man, I expect to be your maid of honor." * * * * * * * * * * The rest of the afternoon, Nancy and I worked out a plan, like two conspirators in the original "Mission Impossible" show. We weren't Peter Graves or Leonard Nemoy, but we did the best we could. We'd just got to a concept we both liked when I heard the garage door next door go up. I excused myself to go and welcome my wife home from the buying trip she and her partner had made to the northern part of the state, making a sweep of out of the way places to pick up a few bargains. In another two months the cold winter weather would shut down the antique business there, while our milder climate would breathe life into it here. "How'd it go? Any real finds?" "A wonderful bed. We can display the headboard and footboard in the shop and keep the rest in the barn. It's the kind of thing that lends an atmosphere to the place and I don't care whether it sells or not. We got it for a song. Some really good metal signs, and then the usual dribs and drabs of kitchen and dining room stuff. Oh, we picked up an old revolver in beautiful condition that I want you to look over." "Sounds like a worthwhile trip. Where's all the stuff?" "Still on the trailer. I parked it in the barn for now, and some day soon you and George can help us unload it and arrange the stuff in the shop. What've you been up to?" "Working on the MG. And right now I've got Nancy over on the patio, planning a party with me. C'mon over and join in" "Soon as I wash the road dust off. You can grab me a beer and a chair, and I'll be right there." Ruth came walking across the backyard, and when she caught Nancy's eye she threw her hands in the air and yelled, "Aha! I caught you two at last! Call the lawyer!" Nancy feigned shock and threw her arms across her chest. "Oh, what a good thing we got our clothes back on in time!" She stood and the two of them hugged. "What's going on here?" asked Ruth. Is it a surprise party for me, in honor of, oh I don't know, what?" "More of a surprise for Jason. Now, mum's the word." "Let me guess. You're going to pry out of him the fact that he loves you, and then you're going to throw him down on the ground and have your way with him." "Pretty close. Here, Chuck, can you twist the top off this bottle? My little lily white teacher hands are too soft for anything harder than a whiteboard marker." I did the honors on all three beer bottles, while Nancy started the explanation. "We'll throw a party. Chuck thinks he can get the upstairs over the garages cleared out and cleaned to be our party house. We were thinking maybe Halloween, but that seemed to call for too much preparation for the party house and for the party goers. So we pretty well settled on the tail end of September, and we can call it an end of summer party. Invite friends and neighbors. You two would of course be host and hostess, and we'd get the whole thing going with some party games and plenty to drink. Then we stage a phone call from somebody. A sudden crisis that needs you two to dash to the rescue. You tell everybody to keep partying, and name Jason and me to act as the host couple in your absence. So we have to stay till everybody else leaves, and we'll be working together to get things moderately straightened up. I'll be hovering at his elbow, and if that doesn't get the trap sprung, I'll turn my ankle and need a macho man to help me. How's that sound to you?" "Audacious! Let's get a sofa, along with some other furniture, and he can lay you on the sofa and then lay you on the sofa. Gotta use the old, 'Oh, you're so strong. What would I ever do if you weren't here? Come and lean down here and let me give you a kiss.' I know that'll work because it worked on Chuck!" "So that's how you pushed him to get serious about saving you from spending your life as a spinster!" I couldn't hold back any longer. "You know, I've wondered how that happened. One day I was a carefree bachelor, and the next I was up to my armpits in wedding plans. We both went so deep into the hole on that wedding that I had to get hot inventing stuff to keep us from bankruptcy. And then I kept at it, thinking that the first one would fizzle out. Of course, what made it really click was that Ruth got me to quit inventing after I hit two good ones in a row. So I got out before I sank all of our earnings into a loser, like that guy who invented the hula hoop. You know, if Ruth hadn't got me down on that sofa I'd probably be working in some garage as a mechanic to this day." "Don't forget, we started on the sofa but we ended up on the floor. My mother never did get those stains out of the carpet. She said if she ever re-carpets the living room, she's going to cut out those pieces and frame them and hang them up on the wall. Tell you what, Nan, if you can land Jason on our sofa, don't wipe it clean and we'll give you the sofa as a wedding present." I thought about the bare space up over the garages. "Hon, we'll have to get some furniture. Maybe you could start looking around at used furniture at Goodwill or wherever." "Sweetheart, I don't object when you spend thousands on some goofy old car, so don't you start getting stingy with the guest house that I've been dying to build. You hire a crew to come in and clean it up, and then stand back. I'll take care of the furniture and decoration. A little remodeling, too; move some walls and do some plumbing. Nan, there'll be two bedrooms all furnished, ready to use when you get Jason to come around. So you can tell him your ankle hurts too much for the sofa, and drag him away to get you really comfortable on a bed while you convince him that he proposed to you." "Hey, I did propose to you, didn't I? Come to think of it, I don't remember saying it. The details of that night seem a little fuzzy to me. I do recall you telling me about it afterward. You said I didn't get down on one knee, I was lying on my back. And whatever I did down there on the floor, it seemed to make you happy, so I guess it worked out okay." "Well, there's nothing fuzzy about the results, is there? All's well that ends well." No argument there. You can't improve on perfection. * * * * * * * * * * Preparations for the party went ahead full blast. Ruth had persuaded her partner to run the antique shop for about a month while she acted as our purchasing agent and general contractor, with Nancy as her assistant. Contractor Ruth got a couple of walls moved, kept two crews of plumbers busy fixing up the kitchen, bathrooms, and wet bar, and finished it all off with cool colors that blended perfectly. There were three bathrooms, one with a toilet and sink just off the living room, and two more with huge stall showers for the two bedrooms. The kitchen was fully functional, and there were dishes and flatware all washed and put away, ready for use. The stove had a flat top, easy to clean up no matter what got spilled on it. A huge flat screen TV dominated one end of the living room. At the other end was a wet bar, all plumbed with its own sink and drain connection. We now had the ideal place to hold a party, and it was exactly what we'd been planning to do with that space for the two years since the garage building had been completed, so we killed two birds with one stone. Well, one of the birds was Jason and he hadn't been bagged yet, but we were confident. Ruth took me for a final walk-through inspection on the Saturday before Labor Day. After looking it all over, I commented, "Too bad we can't have a drink to celebrate the completion of our guest cottage." "What do you mean, too bad? There are three kinds of beer and four kinds of soda in the refrigerator, the bar is well stocked, and you probably didn't notice the refrigerated wine closet, with a dozen bottles all chilled, positioned just right to keep the corks moist. Whatever you want to drink, we've got it right here." "Well then I'll have a whiskey and soda. What can I get you?" "I'll have the same. Bring 'em over here and we'll cuddle and have a drink together." So we did, and when I mentioned that I could really do with another drink it dawned on us that we didn't have to worry about counting our drinks because we could not only walk home, but we could even stay here all night and avoid having to negotiate the stairway if we were a little unsteady. So that night we completely christened our cottage. We were on the sofa when I pulled Ruth to me for a kiss. It was like being on a date. Her lips parted just a little, and I sneaked my tongue in. The kiss lasted about five minutes, in which time she lost her blouse, bra, shoes, and jeans, and lay in my arms in just her thong. My shirt was gone, along with my shoes and socks, and my jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped. I stood, bringing her up with me, and slid her thong down to the carpet. Meanwhile, Ruth had hooked her thumbs into my waistband and slid my jeans and underwear off. We stepped out of the pile of clothes and looked around to see where we wanted to go next. "How about the carpet, make it just like that magic night at my parents' house?" "Good idea. I'want to keep track of what happens this time. When we get to the proposal part, be sure to alert me so I don't miss it the way I did then." I sat down on the carpet, which felt as soft as a fur coat. I pulled Ruth down onto my knees and helped myself to her luscious tits. I was sucking one as if I needed nourishment while I twiddled the other nipple with my fingers, and after a long suck I switched. "You're going to leave bruises on them if you're not careful." "Maybe that's what I want to do, mark you for my own. You're the most exciting thing that's ever come my way, and that's from a man who's driven a car that weighs less than a ton at over a hundred miles an hour. Make no mistake, you're the pinnacle of my existence and you always will be, forever. You're my greatest thrill. I'll never get enough of you." As I was saying this, I was sliding my fingertips across her G spot but I hadn't touched her clit yet. The Conspiracy "Come on, you're driving me crazy down there! What about my clit?" "Oh, did I forget something?" I pulled my fingers out and rolled her clit between my thumb and forefinger, at the same time that I stuck my other forefinger up her asshole. She wasn't prepared for that and it came as a shock. She let out a squeal while I unfolded my legs partway and lowered her onto my hard cock. I was thinking it all went so smoothly that there must be some magic about our new party palace, and as I started to stroke in and out of her, she was already pumping on me. The first two or three strokes were uncoordinated, but then we got it together and went at it as if we were giving CPR to a dying child. I finally got my legs unfolded the rest of the way and lay back, sliding her knees down past my hips until she was lying right on top of me. Then, with her weight distributed over my rib cage and thighs, I could rock my hips to pump into her, giving her the fucking that she deserved for being the ultimate love of my life. To show that she reciprocated my feelings, she took advantage of our height difference to suck on my nipples, nibbling just a bit on each one to leave owner's marks of her own. Then she raised up with her hands on my shoulders, and started to make a sound I'd never heard before. It started in her throat as a murmur, and grew to sort of a growl. It kept growing in volume and and pitch until her mouth opened wide and let out a howl like a soul in . . . what? Not torment! I guess ecstasy describes it best. Then came the words. "Oh, you wonderful fucker! Go ahead, plunge it into me! Deeper! Harder! Oh, yessss, fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck meeee!" Then she was silent, straining every muscle in her body, not even breathing, until she expelled all the air in her lungs with a high, keening cry that ended in a screamed "Yessss!" and she collapsed on me, every muscle limp as overcooked pasta. She breathed rapidly, then more slowly and deeply, and finally lifted her head from my shoulder to bring her lips to mine. We kissed hungrily, and as she drew back she asked me, "Did you hear my last word?" "You said yes, sort of hissed it out." "That's how it was when you proposed to me. "That's how I accepted." "What happened to the proposal part, the question?" "Oh, did you miss it again? It was a beautiful proposal, the most romantic in the world. You said it with your mouth and your whole body. I heard it and felt it very distinctly." Who am I to quibble with success? "Okay, now that you mention it, I guess I did. I said it in the language of love." We lay there on the carpet, our breathing gradually returning to normal and our heartbeats getting back to a reasonable rhythm. "Oh," Ruth said, " you're still hard." "All ready for the encore." "Did you come? I was soaring so far out among the stars that I couldn't tell." "Yes I did, as you'll find out when you lift off me and it all comes gushing out onto the floor. I wonder if it'll stain the new carpet." "I sure hope so." To summmarize, the new carpet was a great success. So were both of the beds. So was the reclining chair in front of the broad expanse of windows that faced the lake. I leaned back in that recliner, clutching Ruth to me. Her toes were touching my ankles. I had a hand across her ass, holding her up against me. I bent my head down as she raised hers up, and our lips met, and opened as our tongues played the last scene in this wonderful one-act passion play. I suddenly felt impelled to tell her, "Sweetheart, I love you so much that when you're in my arms nothing else in the world matters to me at all. I don't ever want to let go of you." "Well that's very sweet but not too practical, because I've got to go to the bathroom." That's when I suddenly understood why Shakespeare wrote so many tragedies, with nothing but a pile of bodies by the final curtain. Can you imagine Juliet throwing herself across Romeo's body and reciting her final speech, only to have him sit up and say, "Excuse me, Honey, I've gotta go take a leak." But even though my own dear Juliet's closing speech may have been a little ordinary, it definitely declared that our passion play was complete. Curtain! I had gone into another bathroom to drain out the last of those whiskey and sodas, and came out to face Ruth, who pressed against me to say, "I don't really want to get dressed, but how can we go across to our house like this? We should keep some robes here for times like this." "Easy solution to your problem. Let's feel the beds to see which one's the least damp and sticky, and spend the night here." "You're right. I'm so glad I bagged a smart husband. Oh, this one's pretty gooey. How's that one in there?" "It'll do. You'll have to snuggle up close to me, but that's what I wanted anyway. Come on and get in while I turn off the lights." And so it came to pass that we finished the dedication of our party room/guest cottage/passion pit with a sleepover. I'd have liked to say something impressive and poetic, to put a stamp on the occasion, but you just can't improve on perfection. * * * * * * * * * * Ruth and Nancy went to work decorating for the party. They had found artificial flowers and autumn leaves for the party's theme of the end of summer, which of course is the start of autumn. They used some streamers in green and yellow to signify summer, and orange and brown for autumn, and various little table decorations to carry out the theme. The place looked very festive, very seasonal, and simply beautiful. The girls wanted all the party people to be from our picturesque little neighborhood of houses that faced the water and backed up to the streets. They had found invitations with an autumn look, carrying the party theme into every detail. A week before the party they visited every house in our little cul de sac and invited the neighbors, leaving an invitation behind as a reminder for every couple who said they could make it. They had an idea of how many people they wanted, so when they came up short on our street they turned the corner and knocked on the doors in the next cul de sac. That filled their quota so they stopped: a simple, effective way to handle the invitations. I didn't know many of the people who showed up, but they all knew us from the upheaval we caused by knocking down the house to make room for our garage building. When they found that they could enter through a hallway that had a door opening onto the garage, and that door was open and the garage cleaned up and brightly lighted, the men in particular were fascinated with the trappings of my hobby, and I knew that they looked on me as their idol, living the life that they'd love to have. When the crowd had assembled upstairs and everybody had a drink, I called for attention and made a little speech. I explained that when we built the garage the upstairs was left unfinished until we could give our full attention to doing it as we wanted it done, and that this party celebrated not just the completion of summer but also the completion of the entire project that had started with the demolition of the old house. I explained further that the upstairs work was completely contracted and overseen by my wife; in effect, the upstairs was hers and the downstairs was mine. I reminded everybody that I was able to pursue my hobby downstairs because my wife agreed to it, and that completion of the upstairs was the confirmation of our respect for each other's wishes. Therefore I proposed a toast to my wonderful wife, a woman of unerring taste and uncommon sense, who still loves me in spite of all that. The applause was loud and long, and we drank to the love of my life. Of course, this was calculated to appeal to Jason's loneliness, in the hope of jarring him out of the solitary rut that his life had become. I had arranged for Ruth to stand beside me for all this, and Nancy right beside her. As the party progressed, Ruth fielded all of the compliments on the upstairs furnishings and the party decorations by giving Nancy a lot of the credit, usually within Jason's hearing. So by the time the party was in full swing it was at least partly a celebration of Nancy, and everybody was paying attention to this lovely schoolteacher whom they had barely noticed in their neighborhood. I kept watching Jason, and every time Nancy's name was mentioned it brought a smile to his face. One very interesting party girl was Amelia, the sister of one of the men on the next street, who had happened to be visiting and was brought along to the party. Naturally she upset the balance of men and women, and also threatened our purpose in the whole undertaking. As the evening went along, she was avoiding the hors d'oeuvres as a threat to her waistline, but accepting a drink every time one was offered. That strategy protected her figure at the expense of her inhibitions, and naturally the more drinks she had, the more aggressively she went after the only single man in the place, Jason. Danger signals were flashing in my mind, but I didn't know how to get rid of this maneater. Various of the parents of young children started to bow out around nine, citing baby sitter problems or whatever, and the population had thinned to about half of the original crew by ten. By that time, three solid hours of drinking without eating had loosened up Amelia to the point where she was slurring her words and undoing the buttons on her blouse one at a time when she thought nobody was looking. She monopolized Jason, hanging on his arm and interrupting everybody who tried to say a word to him. To his credit, Jason was clearly uncomfortable with this attention, but being Jason he had no idea what to do about it. Things were steadily moving in the wrong direction until finally she tried to drag him off into one of the bedrooms. He parried that thrust, but I was getting worried and pulled Ruth into the kitchen for a conference. Just as I started to ask her for ideas, Nancy came in and Ruth said, "Nancy will handle it. Go stand by the window wall and you'll get to watch the whole thing." The window wall facing the lake has a wide sliding glass door, which was open that night to the evening breezes. Outside is a balcony, with a few chairs and small tables. I stood near to one end of the glass and watched, but the whole thing was so slick that even after I watched it I didn't know exactly what happened until I got details from Ruth later on. What I could see was that Nancy walked up to Jason and Amelia and suggested that the room was becoming stuffy and the balcony would offer some fresh air. Before Amelia could object, Nancy dragged Jason in that direction, and Amelia had to follow or give up her hold on Jason's arm. They went out onto the balcony, where Nancy deftly switched glasses with Amelia and dumped what had been Amelia's drink into a potted plant. Then in the dim light she mentioned what a beautiful evening it was, and proposed a toast to the wonderful weather, which was such a relief from the summer heat. She wound up with, "Down the hatch!" and all three of them downed the contents of their glasses at a gulp: Jason, whose drink had long since deteriorated to a couple of half melted ice cubes; Nancy, who was holding an empty glass; and Amelia, whose drink was rather special. I later found out it was a mixture of whiskey and ipecac, a medicine used to induce vomiting. Nancy looked over the railing to be sure nobody was standing below, as Amelia chuckled drunkenly over nothing and then abruptly leaned over the railing and heaved up everything she'd ever consumed since seventh grade. Jason already held one of Amelia's arms and Nancy took the other, and steered Amelia back into the room and over to her brother and sister with the comment that Amelia might not be accustomed to such strong drinks. Obviously embarrassed, they collected her and hastily said their goodbyes as they hauled her out. I saw this coming and rushed to position myself at the foot of the stairs, so when they started down with the semi-limp Amelia, I could simply go up a few steps and give them a helping hand. I was the perfect image of a solicitous host, even though I was less concerned over Amelia's safety than I was over our homeowner's insurance premiums. I saw them safely off our property and climbed the stairs to signal Nancy that it was time for Ruth to get a phone call. Nancy ducked into a bathroom and placed the call. Ruth had her ringtone turned up high. She answered her cell phone and went into her act like an Oscar winner. She looked alarmed and ducked out to the hallway to continue. Then she hurried back into the party and grabbed me, pulling me off to one side as if to be unobtrusive, but actually creating enough of a stir for everybody in the room to know something was up. Ruth and I were standing near the door leading to the stairs. I raised my voice and said, "Folks, sad to say, we have a family emergency, and Ruth and I have to leave. I am sorry, but please stay and enjoy the party. In our absence, our friends Jason and Nancy will take our place as your hosts, and I'm sure that everything will go just fine without us. Thank you all for coming," and before anybody could say anything I whisked Ruth down the stairs to the garage and made our exit in my favorite family car, my sweet little BMW convertible. What else would I drive to celebrate our successful operation? Really a nice little package, a true driver's car, as perfect as you can get. And you just can't improve on perfection. * * * * * * * * * * Rolling along in our sweet little chariot, in complete privacy for the first time in several hours, we could finally share our secrets. Ruth went first. She explained that when she saw the Amelia situation developing she ran over to the house and fetched the ipecac, without a firm plan in mind but knowing that she would need some way to embarrass the drunken slut and get her out of Nancy's way. This provided the missing dot so I could make a meaningful picture out of all that happened. Then it was my turn, and I explained to her that as we were leaving I told Nancy we'd be gone overnight so they had the whole place, both houses, to themselves as a playground for their passion. Ruth looked a little uncomfortable at hearing this, so I put her mind at ease with the news that I had an overnight bag for the two of us in the trunk, and that I planned for us to celebrate Jason's capture at the Biltmore, where we had a paid reservation. We could check in and then finish our evening by dancing to cool mood music in the cocktail lounge. She snuggled into my side and delivered what for her was the ultimate in high praise: "Honey, you're devious enough to be a woman!" She's such a smooth talker. * * * * * * * * * * I don't know who was more eager to formalize their union, Nancy or Jason, but the wedding came along very quickly after the party. The Friday after Thanksgiving saw Ruth and me standing up with Jason and Nancy in a small but elegant wedding performed in our backyard by the pastor of Nancy's church. The reception dinner was catered upstairs, coincidentally in the same place where they had become engaged. Jason's and Nancy's parents and a few other relatives attended. At the end, Nancy threw her bouquet the length of the room and took Jason's arm as they retired to the larger of the two bedrooms. They were going on a Caribbean cruise during the Christmas holidays for a delayed honeymoon, so we gave them the run of our guest house for the Thanksgiving weekend. In a chorus of well wishes, the reception crowd made our way down the stairs and out to the sidewalk, where we said our goodbyes. Then Ruth and I walked to our house as the guests walked to theirs. Won't be any DUIs on our account! That evening, we had just retired when we thought we heard a woman's voice screaming something, but neither of us could make out the words. Maybe there weren't any. Probably the screamer, whoever she was, didn't need any. It happened while we were wrapped up in each other on our king size bed, celebrating the success of our conspiracy, and it was reasonable to expect that we weren't the only ones celebrating. Later I happened to mention that I hoped Jason was up to dealing with the abrupt change that marriage would bring to his lifestyle. Ruth looked me eye to eye and said, "Don't worry, Nancy will take care of that, just the same as I did with you." I must have looked puzzled, because she said, "Oh, don't even think about it," and completed the conversation with a kiss. I gave her an extra squeeze as I thanked God for the best wife and co-conspirator any man could have. Have I ever mentioned that you just can't improve on perfection? The Conspiracy of Silence It was an odd conspiracy of silence, one that I felt very strange about. They both knew - sisters talk - but now they knew it was both of them, they pretended it wasn't... I had met Tina at work. We had worked in the same office for several months before the inevitable office party. The party where she drank too much. The party from where I drove her home. Took her into her house (her family were away)...well the rest is history. We were never in a relationship particularly, but the sex was good - she was fun, adventurous, she seemed to like what I did. If we had a spare evening - perhaps every couple of weeks she came around to my flat, we got together. Had fun. Went home. At 22 she was both self-confident enough and carefree enough to simply enjoy having a "fuck-buddy." I had met Toni a couple of months later. She was a year older than Tina. We had both been at the gym. Her car had a flat tyre when I walked past. I changed the wheel. Took her for a drink and again the rest, as they say, is history. She was a regular visitor to my flat as well. Whereas Tina was smallish, shapely, outgoing, funloving, Toni was much quieter, slim, taller. Whereas Tina was fun-loving and a bundle of fire in bed, Toni was more sensual, but ultimately more "amoral" - had less inhibitions, would do anything to intensify our pleasures. One week it was Toni, the next it was Tina. Heaven for me, I hope fun for them. It took me several weeks to work out they were sisters. I saw Toni's driving license. It leapt out at me. The same address. The same surname. It was obvious... I asked Toni if she had a sister called Tina who worked where I worked. She had. I asked Tina if she had a sister which went to the same gym as I did. She had. I never let on to the other that they were both regular visitors to my bed... I suppose sisters talk. One would say they had a date which ended up at the man's flat. A week later the other would say they had been to bed with their date. They talked about him - me. It took them several months to put it all together - similar descriptions, both mentioning the same area. Christian name of the date the same. It was odd - all three of us put it together at roughly the same time - I was bedding two sisters. Toni realising Tina was sharing my bed, Tina realising Toni... But no-one daring to tell anyone else what was happening, what they knew. The grand conspiracy of silence had started! One of the things I like to do is tell my partners about my fantasies while we are making love. It seems to intensify things. If you click into the right thing, it can make the partner really hot. Sometimes it can lead to more fun, more variety down the line. It did particularly with Toni when I told her just before we came one evening how I'd like to cum all over her pretty face. Her mind looked shocked, but her body gave her away - she exploded into her orgasm at that moment. Two weeks later I was cumming all over her face, because she wanted to try it, experience it. It took her ages to wash her hair after we had finished! The one fantasy everyone knows every man has is having two women at the same time. Or watching two women making love to each other. It was natural to say it to Tina and Toni when we were making love, and it did seem to enhance their excitement, their wetness, as my cock slid in and out of them. Again their minds would tell them it wasn't right and you could see that on their faces, but their bodies betrayed them. It was a short journey from there to naming the women I would like to see them with. Stars off the telly, the odd sports star or celebrity. Again, each time their bodies responded, as much as their minds may not have liked the idea. The final step was when I was with Toni. My mind was befuddled with lust as I took her, both of us reaching our peaks. It slipped out by accident, although I knew I shouldn't have said it the moment I'd opened my mouth. "I'd like to see you make love to Tina." Her eyes opened wide as her mind rejected the idea, but her body seemed to explode in lust, she had the most intense orgasm I could remember - and that was saying something! Immediately afterwards the conspiracy of silence came down. We pretended it hadn't happened. We pretended, until the next time. This time I said it deliberately, but as if in the befuddled lustful state just before orgasm. I told her I would love to see her head between her sisters legs, asking her if she wouldn't love to taste her sisters pussy, make her cum. Again her face looked shock, but her body exploded with lust. Again, afterwards, the conspiracy of silence. Afterwards for the next couple of months it became a regular part of our love making. Me sharing the fantasy, intensifying her lust, her mind disapproving, her body exploding, the conspiracy of silence... It was about a month after I had first said anything about her sister to Toni, that I said anything to Tina. I had already talked of fantasies as we made love, and mentioned about watching her with another woman, but it was that month later I said I'd like to see her with her sister. Remarkably almost the same thing happened. She was shocked, mentally disapproving, but her body responding as never before, followed, of course, by the conspiracy of silence. The whole thing seemed totally ludicrous - neither admitting to the other that they were both having sex with the same man, me never mentioning to one sister that I was having sex with the other sister, and all three of us pretending there was nothing "eccentric" or "extreme" being talked about when we were making love, nothing that was enhancing what was already good sex. For myself, I was happy to continue in that mode, as presumably were the two sisters. I knew that one day they would meet men they wanted a deeper relationship with and I would be left behind . I didn't mind that - I would just move on. But while things were as they were, I was happy to enjoy the fun. One Saturday a phone call changed all that. Well, I changed things. I took an opportunity, grasped an opportunity. I got the phone call from Tina about 11.30am. Their washing machine had flooded the kitchen. They had phoned everyone else they could think of - uncles, neighbours, friends, and I was the last one they had tried. They had dared try. Again, the same folly, the same conspiracy of silence had ruled. Tina had said there was a man she worked with, that she thought Toni had seen at the gym, who lived nearby who could probably help. Toni said phone him, I know who you mean. At 11.40 I arrived at their home. Both sisters looked gorgeous in their casual tee-shirts and jeans. Their parents who lived there, who owned the house, were away for the weekend. It took a bit of time to fix the washer. One of the pipes from the mains water to the machine had split. It meant turning off the water. Going to the DIY shop. Buying a new pipe. Fitting it. Turning the water back on. Trying a wash. Helping to mop up the water. These jobs always take longer than you expect - at 1.30pm we had decided the machine was fine, and they offered me a sandwich and cup of coffee. I didn't refuse. We chatted. We chatted on. We talked about work. About friendships. It was all superficial and the conspiracy of silence was never threatened. It was probably three o'clock when we got onto the subject of weird friendships. Weird relationships. At that moment the bell rang in my brain. Or the light came on. Maybe... I could try and see what would happen...The girls had talked and giggled about one lad who had broken wind a lot while making love. Another who always wanted to be underneath and have his face "sat on." Then there was a sudden momentary lull. "I think one of the weirdest things I've come across is," I paused. they both listened. "One of the weirdest thing is this girl who was really good, but got incredibly turned on when I fantasized about her making love to her sister." The silence was deafening. Both had turned bright red. Both stumbled over their speech. I continued. "I often wondered whether they would want to make love to each other for real. It would certainly have fulfilled all my dreams! That would have been really hot to see" I smiled, relaxed, as if I hadn't said anything of great import. For the two girls it was very different. Bright red with embarrassment, a stunned look on their faces, clearly an air suggesting this shouldn't be happening, surely the conspiracy of silence was stronger... There was complete silence for a moment, then both Tina, started blustering, saying sisters would never want to do that, saying it was wrong, saying she would never consider such a thing, saying them over two or three times in her desire to make this moment go away. About the second time Tina was going through her "litany" of objections, Tina joined it. But it was slightly different. "Never thought of it, so embarrassing, wouldn't know what to do, wouldn't know where to start..." I let them go on for a few moments, raised my hand, let their talking peter out, said sorry for mentioning it. But continued ..."but you both know it was you. With each other." This time the two girls had nothing to say, had their eyes down, couldn't face each other because of the embarrassment. I turned to Toni and spoke gently. "You don't know what to do? It's quite simple really. You get up, walk over to Tina, and as you get there she will realise you are serious. She'll stand up, then you put your arms around her, put your lips to hers, then kiss her. As you both enjoy it more instinct will take over - you do to her what you like have done to you. Put your tongue in her mouth. Rest your hand on her boob. Pinch her nipple. Undress her. Bit more, probably end up in a 69.It's not difficult..." I smiled encouraging and waved my hand towards Tina in invitation. There was a long long pause. I thought I had got it wrong. Was wondering what to say to get us out of this moment. Then it happened. Toni got to her feet slowly. Walked over to Tina. Held out her hand to Tina. Slowly Tina looked up into Toni's eyes, then took the hand and Toni helped her to her feet. They were clearly very nervous, and clumsy in their nervousness, but Toni did put her arms around Tina, put her lips to Tina's, and it was good to see Tina let her. I watched as they tentatively kissed, relaxing slowly into each others arms, the kiss becoming more natural, more animated. It took three of four minutes before their tongues were gently wrestling. It took perhaps 6 or 7 minutes until I saw Tina raise her hand and cup Toni's breast, squeezing gently, then pinching the nipple which I could see getting hard through her bra and tee-shirt. Suddenly Toni stepped back, broke away. She gave Tina a long stare in her eyes - again I thought this could be the end of the show... It wasn't. Toni reached out, took the bottom of tina's tee-shirt and pulled it off over her head. She reached behind Tina, undid her bra and let it fall to the ground. Tina's round pert breasts looked even more beautiful at this moment than they ever had before. I thought Toni was going to stop at that, but she didn't. Toni reached out and undid the button on Tina's jeans, slid down the zip, and pulled both Tina's jeans and panties to the floor. Tina looked fantastic as she stood there naked. It was obvious she wanted to - she had helped Toni removed the panties and jeans from her feet. Again Toni reach to Tina, pulled her to her and began to kiss her, but this time much more passionately, her hands beginning to explore Tina's body, hands caressing and squeezing Tina's breasts, running all over her back, over her shapely curved ass. I watched as Tina spread her legs slightly to allow Toni to explore between. It was clear from Tina's glazed look that she was enjoying this. Her breathing was shortening as Toni was clearly reaching some good places between Tina's legs. It had surprised me at first that Toni was playing the "top" role - but perhaps the quiet shyer ones are stronger personalities! My thoughts didn't last long as my eyes went back to the show. I watched as Toni pushed her sister to the floor, and again was kissing her, let her hands roam. This time nothing was hidden - Tina allowed her legs to be spread wide, the lips of her pussy glistening as Toni's fingers danced over them. One moment she was flicking Tina's clitoris, making her moan, then gently pushing one or two fingers into her pussy, sliding them in and out, next moment allowing her fingers to pinch the lips of her pussy, each action causing Tina to moan with pleasure, each action making her breathe more heavily. Suddenly Toni pulled away again, but this time I knew this wasn't going to stop here. She quickly undid her jeans, slipped them off revealing her beautiful ass, her neatly trimmed bush. She paused for a moment, then simply stood astride Tina's head and dropped herself onto Tina's face. This time Toni paused them moaned and squirmed - it was obvious Tina's tongue was touching a nice spot. Toni quickly removed her tee-shirt and bra, then leant forward, allowing her head to disappear between Tina's legs. At this moment the girls were oblivious of the room, of me, as their tongues began to work on each other. The girls moaned, squirmed, their bodies bucked as their arousal got higher and higher... Suddenly Toni exploded in orgasm, crying out, and moments later Tina followed. Their bodies shuddered, Toni forcing her crotch hard down onto Tina's face, their hips bucked. I knew the two girls were hot but was amazed at the violence of their orgasms. It seemed like minutes before Toni rolled off her sister. It was odd for the three of us to be sitting there. It had been so hot, watching the two girls, I was rock hard. "Me next..." I said, undoing my flies. "Oh no," said Tina in a pretend shocked voice. Suddenly Toni had caught on... "We can't do that..." Tina continued. "No, we've got a lot of catching up to do. A lot to talk about. A lot to explore..." Toni continued, giggling. "No, you'll have to leave, you have to go..." I had stood up, and was suddenly feeling pushed out the door by the two girls. Before I knew what had happened I was out of the door, my trousers still undone. Toni spoke. "You can ring us in a few days..." Tina continued: "But we have a lot for just the two of us..." The door was shut. I was outside. I quickly did up my trousers. "The swines," I thought, as I drove away frustrated. But I knew the next time I was with them I would be in charge. And all three of us would have fun... and I would get my revenge...