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A Favour

By: emari



Follows my story The Deal, but can stand alone.

*****

The outfit wasn't Matt's first choice in clothing, but he didn't see why a sorority girl would kick up a fuss and refuse to wear it. The band of the lacy white bra dug into his ribs a little sure, but he figured a girl would be used to that sort of thing. Anyway, he suspected the bra and matching panties had been Oliver's choice, surely the average sorority didn't pick out its members' underwear. But other than the bra, the clothes weren't so bad. The white blouse wasn't that much different from a male dress shirt, although the fabric was thinner and it was clearly cut for a more curvaceous body type than his own, and the floaty pink skirt was almost demure, it came to mid-thigh on him and so on an average girl it would be almost knee length. Its only flaw was that the cloth was so light that he suspected that things might get a little draughty if one were to wear it outdoors. Baffled by why such a big deal had been made over clothes, Matt tugged up the white knee socks, the last of the item that Oliver had laid out for him, and stepped into the low heeled black pumps that Oliver had borrowed, presumably from an unusually large footed girl.

He was wobbly in the heels, but he figured that it was unlikely that he'd need to do much walking, so he'd cope.

Matt walked into the room where Oliver was waiting, sprawled on a luxurious looking couch. Sat next to him was a glamorous looking and elegantly dressed girl who could only be Amanda, the sorority president Oliver owed a favour to. Opposite them was a couch upon which sat an embarrassed looking girl in an ill-fitting men's suit.

Oliver grinned. "This is Amanda," he said, gesturing to the girl next to him, "Who I mentioned we're doing the favour for." He waved Matt in the direction of the free space on the sofa opposite them and so Matt walked over and sat next to the girl in the suit.

"Oh hello," Amanda said, grinning at Matt. "I see what Oliver meant..." She pointed to Matt's seatmate. "And that," she added, "Is Lexie, our troublemaker."

Lexie flushed, ducking her head.

Amanda pointed at Matt with a nod. "Look here, Lexie, Oliver has brought us an excellent example of how you're supposed to dress. It's not hard is it Mattie?"

Matt shook his head sheepishly. "Not really... Uh my name is actually-"

Amanda cut him off. "Has Oliver explained exactly what it is I want from you?"

Matt shook his head and Amanda rolled her eyes. Oliver looked unabashed.

"Don't worry," Oliver said. "You're here to be a good example for Lexie. Just follow Amanda's lead and Lexie will follow mine."

Matt nodded, that didn't sound too hard.

Amanda grinned. It made her look like a particularly classy shark. "Sigma Rho prides itself on being a sorority of ladylike girls," she said. "And, when the occasion calls for it, knowing how to please men. Since Lexie here won't act like a lady, I figured I'd indulge her wish to act like a man, with Oliver here serving as an example of proper gentlemanly conduct." Matt nodded, this was making sense so far. He was beginning to see how he was going to fit in, although he wasn't sure how he felt about it. "You," Amanda continued, "Will be playing Lexie's girl, since I could hardly ask a sorority lady to do it."

Matt frowned. "Look I know..." he gestured to his outfit and shook his head. "Despite appearances, I'm not exactly an expert on ladylike conduct."

Amanda laughed. "Don't worry too much Mattie, honey. All you need to do is follow my example."

"Anyway," said Oliver. "This is really about Lexie. You're just helping out, nobody is gonna care if you aren't perfect, as long as you do your best."

Matt nodded, reassured by Oliver's statement. He had the feeling Amanda wasn't somebody he wanted to piss off, but if Oliver said it would be fine, well, Oliver hadn't lied to him yet.

Oliver turned to Lexie. "Watch and learn," he said. He slid an arm around Amanda's shoulders, gently turning him to face her and leaning in to press his mouth to hers. They made about for a few minutes, while Matt and Lexie watched. As Amanda got increasingly into their make out session, Oliver slipped a hand down to rest on her leg and then gradually inched it up her skirt. Matt felt the early stirrings of arousal. He was getting into the show, when Oliver pulled back sharply and turned to Lexie and said, "Well, follow my lead."

Lexie startled and little and nodded, dropping her arm awkwardly across Matt's shoulders. Oliver rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Amanda. Remembering how easily Amanda had followed Oliver's hints, Matt turned his head towards Lexie and allowed her to kiss him. For a moment, they were still, their mouths pressed up against one another without movement, before Lexie seemed to remember that Oliver had taken the lead with Amanda, and began to kiss Matt in earnest. It was still awkward though, Lexie was clearly not experienced with being the leading partner and her kisses were awkward and halting. Matt turned his gaze to the other sofa, where Oliver was doing a much more impressive job with Amanda. While he'd been kissing Lexie they'd moved so that Amanda was lying on the couch with Oliver leaning over her.

Matt tensed as he felt Lexie place a hand on his knee and then slide it up his thigh, under his skirt, so that her fingertips were brushing against his panties. She's moved much quicker that Oliver and the whole thing felt strange and abrupt. Matt had expected to be more into having a girl's hand so close to his dick but, Lexie's small, soft hand and the brush of her ill-fitting suit sleeve held little interest in favour of the show that was Oliver and Amanda.

Oliver had used the hand that wasn't occupied under Amanda's skirt to unfasten her blouse and front clasping bra and was stroking at her breasts, her nipples teased to bright pink peaks.

Lexie had clearly noticed this and was using her free hands to fumble with Matt's buttons. He hadn't been paying enough attention to know if Amanda had helped Oliver with removing her shirt, but decided he'd help Lexie out, because she was clearly struggling to unfasten his shirt one handed. If Oliver hadn't had Amanda's help it was all the more impressive because he was clearly splitting his attention between the hand on Amanda's breasts and the hand up her skirt, the shift of his arm indicating movement where Lexie had simply left her hand resting limply on Matt's thigh.

Amanda had sat up and pulled Oliver's shirt over his head, leaving his hair elegantly dishevelled and his lightly muscled bare chest on display. Matt swallowed and reached up to do the same for Lexie, but the shirt caught on the bun where she'd tied her hair back to add to the masculine look, and he struggled to get it over her head. She wasn't wearing any bra, which made sense with the masculine outfit, and also probably wasn't necessary with her small breasts. Still, although they weren't big, Matt had expected to be more excited by a bare female chest, instead he found himself drawing unflattering comparisons between Lexie's soft curves, and the hard, flat look of Oliver's abdomen, the dipped v of his hipbones and the trail of hair between them.

Oliver tugged Amanda's panties down her legs, where she kicked them onto the floor, and pushed her skirt up so that it was ruched up around her waist. Then he unfastened his trousers and pushed them and his boxers down, kicking them off elegantly as he stepped back into Amanda's space, and with one hand guided his cock into her.

Lexie clumsily copied Oliver's movements, tugging the panties down Matt's legs, the sound of tearing fabric making it clear she'd done a less than spectacular job before she finally got them over his heels and let them drop to the floor. She then unfastened her trousers and stripped bare herself, at which point Matt saw the answer to a question it hadn't occurred to him to ask about how this was going to work.

Strapped to Lexie's groin was length of flesh toned plastic. A dildo. Matt swallowed. He supposed that made sense. Clearly Amanda meant for this to be a thorough lesson. On the plus side, at least Amanda hadn't felt the need for Lexie to be generously endowed, the artificial cock was of a moderate size, probably smaller than Matt's own.

Amanda clearly needed no prepping, but Matt didn't have the same advantage. As if realising the same thing, Lexie fumbled in her pockets and pulled out a narrow tube of lubricant, the sort that could be found for free at the student health centre. She flipped off the cap, but Matt held out a hand to stop her, taking the tube. He didn't know how Oliver and Amanda had planned for this to go, but Matt didn't trust Lexie's fumbling hands and sharp looking nails with this.

He poured some of the lubricant onto his fingers. He'd experimented with this a little in the privacy of his dorm in the hours when he was certain that his roommate would be in class, but he'd failed to achieve the sort of enjoyment he'd felt when Oliver had done it, although he wondered if maybe it was simply the fact that it wasn't accompanied by a blow job when he did it to himself that meant it was less pleasurable. He kept his attention on Oliver and Amanda as he stretched himself open, working as fast as possible and trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of Lexie's anxious gaze. He'd worked his way up to three fingers, when Oliver glanced over at him and smirked. Matt felt the blood rush to both his face and his cock as he was reminded sharply of why he was doing this. He removed his fingers and nodded to Lexie, who gulped and lined the rubber cock up with Matt's hole, taking a slow breath before pressing in.

He shut his eyes and tried to keep his breathing even, the stretch wasn't much more than his fingers were, but it's still more than he's ever felt before. To distract himself he looked over to the other couch where Oliver was clearly doing a much better job. He was thrusting hard into Amanda, who was arching her back and meeting his movements halfway, gasping as she did so. Matt could feel his dick firming back up as he watched them. He wondered if following Amanda's lead meant he ought to fake pleasure, but this lesson was for Lexie not him. Lexie's rubber cock felt strange inside of him. The lack of heat was disconcerting and though she'd began to move her hips, her thrusts were weak and erratic, he could feel the rubber cock shifting inside of him, but it wasn't hitting anything that might give him pleasure.

On the opposite sofa Amanda shrieked, throwing her head back with her eyes shut, and a few moments later Oliver's motions subsided as he lay gasping atop her. Matt wonder if this meant that the exercise was over. Lexie clearly wasn't getting any pleasure of this, Matt was pretty sure Amanda hadn't intended her to, and neither was he, so there was no point them attempting to imitate this conclusion.

Instead, however, after a few moments rest, Oliver stood up, walking to stay behind Lexie and wrapping his hands around her hips. Lexie paused, turned her head towards him but Oliver said, "Shush, just follow my lead." He used his hands to guide her hips, her thrusts becoming straighter and faster under his direction. Matt kept his eyes locked on Oliver's face, feeling his stomach tighten at the faint rush of pleasure that Lexie's improved technique had unleashed.

For several more minutes Oliver directed Lexie's thrusts, until Matt found his breath getting short, as Lexie fucked him with improved technique. Then Oliver removed a hand from Lexie's hip and used it to grab the girl by the hand, guiding her to wrap her hand around Matt's cock. It was a strange experience, to feel the soft touch of Lexie's small hand stroking his cock, but to see Oliver's more familiar hand guiding her motions, his much larger hand rendering hers invisible. Matt bit his lip and bucked up into Oliver's, no, Lexie's grip. It seemed Oliver had taught Lexie well, as she was continuing to fuck him soundly even as Oliver instructed her on how to jerk Matt off. Matt wondered if she'd never given a hand job before, or if it were simply that Oliver was confident that his technique was better. Regardless, it did not take long before he found himself gasping to completion.

He didn't have time to savour the feeling before Lexie pulled out abruptly and turned her attention to Amanda, who was reclining naked on the couch. He felt strangely empty, clenching his ass in an attempt to avoid the sensation that he was gaping, and sat up. Oliver smiled at him. Lexie and Amanda were talking but he ignored them, sitting up and pushing the skirt down to cover himself a little. Oliver placed a hand on his knee. "Not bad," he said. "What did you think of Lexie's lesson?"

Matt wondered if he meant the lesson Amanda had been trying to teach or Oliver's lesson in fucking, so he just shrugged.

"You were very helpful," Oliver remarked, "And I hope you didn't mind doing all this for me."

Matt shrugged. "It was fine... a bit strange but interesting."

Oliver nodded. "You'll get used to that. Part of being in a fraternity is extra-curricular education, broadening your horizons, as well as helping people out. I knew I was right to admit you."

Matt felt a rush of pride and nodded.

Oliver looked over to the couch, where the girls were making out, and laughed. "I'm pretty sure Amanda is done with us," he said. "C'mon, let's get back to the house."

A Favour for a Friend



It was late afternoon on one of those rare days in late July in northern England when it was warm enough to sit outdoors until late in the evening long after dusk had fallen. Anne and I were sitting in companionable silence on the patio of our friends Ellen and David with a glass of a nice chilled white wine in our hands. Our two teenage girls were knocking a shuttlecock back and forth on the lawn, their laughter mingling with the melodious sounds of nature. David had been fiddling with the barbecue for what seemed like ages -- I had often told him to buy a gas one, as they were relatively cheap and much easier to use, but he claimed that charcoal added a richer flavour to the food. As there was nothing I could do to help, I let him get on with it, and looked over to admire Ellen who was gracefully stretched out on a lounger beside us.

Suddenly, Ellen turned to us and said in a voice little louder than a murmur, "Oliver is coming home next weekend for a couple of weeks between university and starting his new job in London, it would be very nice if you could give him a specially good time whilst he is here."

Oliver had just graduated with a good degree from Bristol University, which was by coincidence the university where I had obtained my first degree. As an only child he had a very close relationship with his mother, as often happens in these circumstances, and my first thought was that she would want to spend as much time with him as possible before he ventured out alone into the big bad world of adulthood. I therefore dismissed her remark as a mere pleasantry and thought no more about it.

In truth, we had seen very little of Oliver even before he went to university. My personal recollection was of a rather serious and quiet boy with a pale complexion and a shock of blonde hair, and even though Anne had seen a little more of him when she went round to Ellen's for a gossip after work or at weekends, neither of us really knew much about him.

However, what had seemed to me to be just a casual remark had planted a very naughty idea in my wife's mind. In the short term the consequence of decision she made at that moment would merely be a few hours of intense sexual pleasure for her and Oliver. In the long term, however, it would have a profound effect on our all our lives, although we were not to know that at the time.

*****

At this stage I feel that I ought to tell you a little about us. Anne and I had met at Manchester University where she was in the first year of training as a speech and language therapist, whilst I was studying for a doctorate in neurophysiology. We were immediately attracted to one other, and after dating for a few months decided to get married, rather rashly in some people's eyes, as we had very little money to live on. By the time she graduated Anne was already pregnant with Gemma, our first daughter, and just over a year after Gemma's arrival our second daughter Nicola was born.

For the next eleven years Anne concentrated on being a housewife and mother, but when both girls were at secondary school she found a job at a special school for profoundly deaf and autistic children. At the time about which I am writing we had been married for just over twenty years. Anne was approaching forty and I was a few years older at forty-five. I was still at the university, where I had recently been awarded the chair in Experimental Neuroscience.

It was through Anne's job that we had come to know Ellen. She was in charge of events and fundraising at the school where Anne worked, and the two women hit it off from the start soon becoming firm friends. Our two families lived quite close by in a village on the edge of the peak District. It was inevitable, therefore, that Anne and Ellen could often be found at one or the other of our homes with a cup of coffee, or depending on the time of day, something stronger, talking about work, or just gossiping about the world.

We didn't see as much of David, Ellen's husband, as he often had to travel abroad for his work as an international patent lawyer. He was a rather serious man, but with a twinkle in his eye, and he was unfailingly courteous in his dealings with all of Ellen's female friends, which I know that Anne found rather charming.

In my eyes Anne, with her short red-blonde hair, shapely figure, and nice firm breasts and bottom, would always be the most beautiful woman in the world. Ellen, who was about the same age as me, was a little more voluptuous, with long blonde hair and blue eyes, but she had an air of sensuality about her that made her attractive to most men. As I got to know her better our relationship became more than a little flirtatious, even naughty, but that is the subject of another story, and there was never any question of risk to our marriages.

As a result of our wives' close friendship it was inevitable that David and I would also get to know each other well, and on Saturday mornings when he wasn't away on business, we would often play an hour or two of squash at the local courts. In all honesty, it must be said that we played energetically rather than well, although it did keep us fairly fit, and served to prevent the more serious consequences of a shared liking for good food and fine wines. However, neither of us could be described as hunks, just a couple of reasonably attractive middle-aged men.

*****

Now that I have told you a little about us it is time to resume my story of that evening, and all that followed from it.

After our meal, as we sat under the stars with our postprandial brandies, Ellen returned to the subject of Oliver's pending visit. She explained that he had been a little down recently despite the excitement of graduation day, which had ended with a splendid champagne and strawberry tea on the lawn of one of the halls of residence overlooking the splendours of the Avon Gorge. Even the anticipation of his new job in London, with a good starting salary and excellent prospects of promotion, did not seem to excite him very much.

It turned out that his girlfriend, with whom he had been in a relationship for the last two years at university, had abruptly dumped him without any explanation straight after finals, leading to the cancellation of their planned trip to Venice.

"Thank God she did it after he had finished his finals," said Ellen, "Otherwise I dread to think what would have happened, but it was still a bit of a bitchy thing to do; and she was such a pretty girl too. "

Then a sudden thought seemed to strike her, although in retrospect I don't think it was that sudden.

"Why don't you come round to dinner next Saturday night, you can meet Oliver, and I am sure he would like to meet your two girls again, they are quite grown up now. "

Gemma and Nicola were seventeen and sixteen respectively, so rather young for a young man of nearly twenty-two, but I was too polite to point this out.

Ellen turned to David, who was by then quietly dozing in his chair, nursing his empty glass on his chest.

"That will be all right, won't it darling -- Anne and Bill and the girls can come to dinner next Saturday night can't they?"

David sleepily mumbled his agreement, as he roused himself for a moment from his daydreams, before sinking back into that pleasant torpor which commonly follows a nice meal with plenty of alcohol.

So it was that the following Saturday we found ourselves again at Ellen and David's house. Before dinner the party split up on gender lines, Anne and our girls went off to help Ellen in the kitchen, whilst David, Oliver and I went up to his den where he took great pleasure in showing us the latest additions to his rather magnificent model railway layout -- Ellen always called it his boy's train set, which really didn't do it justice -- and demonstrating how he could control it all from his iPhone, which I thought was a bit nifty.

Oliver, however, was a revelation. Gone was the gawky and rather shy boy, and in his place was a tall and very handsome young man. I had remembered him as being rather skinny, but he had obviously kept himself fit, his bare forearms below the sleeves of his sweat shirt were nicely muscled, and as he moved there were hints of the firm body beneath his clothes. During our conversations about his time at Bristol, I learned that he had played both hockey and tennis for the university, although he said that sport had necessarily taken a back seat in the run up to finals, and that he really needed to get back into training.

"What a foolish young woman his girlfriend was," I thought, "To have thrown him over in the way she had. He would certainly be a hit with the ladies in our circle, it was just a pity he was only going to be around for a couple of weeks."

I knew that Anne was going to have a lovely time over dinner flirting with him, she had often said that having a young admirer did wonders for an older woman's self-esteem, particularly at that time of life when the children were almost grown up and the imagined terrors of middle age beckon.

I suggested to Oliver, "If you want to indulge a bit of sport whilst you are home, one of our friends have a private tennis court in their back garden which I know they would be pleased to let you use."

I then had a bright idea, "Why don't you ask Anne to have a knockabout. She doesn't get much opportunity to play these days, and I know that she would enjoy playing with you. I am a lousy partner for her. I was never very good at ball games as I was more of a runner when I was younger."

Dinner was a great success. Ellen is a great cook and over the years David had built up a rather splendid cellar. Anne had been placed by Ellen next to Oliver at one end of the table, and she spent her time finding out all about him. She talked very little, but listened avidly to everything he had to say, whilst looking deeply into his eyes in blatant adoration -- I am told that this always works with men. Smile sweetly and let them think they are the most important person in the world and they will tell you all their deepest secrets and desires, and Oliver was no exception to this rule.

Anne is an expert at making men feel special, so by the end of the meal I am sure that Oliver was more than a little in love with her. This gave me a definite thrill since I was the man she would be going home with at the end of the evening.

I didn't have too bad a time, either, as I was seated opposite Ellen, which gave me every opportunity to admire her rather magnificent breasts as well as engaging in a little playful teasing. We talked about the things we enjoyed doing, and of course, I took every opportunity to let her know how much I appreciated her culinary and other skills. Meanwhile our two girls were quite happy gossiping about their friends, whilst David concentrated on the serious business of wine appreciation.

After dinner Anne devoted herself even more to Oliver, as Ellen had requested she was trying to give him a really good time. They sat cuddled together on the sofa, her hand gently resting on his thigh, as she asked him about his future plans and his expectations of his new job. I also overheard her rather sweetly encourage him to find a nice girl to settle down with.

"It is so much nicer to share everything with a loving partner," she murmured, "And finding out all the intimate secrets of someone of the opposite sex is so much fun."

As we made our farewells at the end of a delightful evening, rather than just a peck on the cheek, Anne leaned up to Oliver and kissed him lightly on the lips. As she did so I noticed that she pressed her body against him slightly longer and more firmly than might be normally expected in such circumstances, and just long enough for him to become aware of the warmth and softness of her breasts and the scent of her hair and body.

A few minutes later, when we got into our house Anne went on through to the kitchen whilst I turned to the girls and asked them if they had had a pleasant evening.

"Oh yes," they chorused in unison," and isn't Oliver a hunk?" added Gemma.

I chuckled and said that I thought he was a bit too old to be interested in her, but I agreed that he probably was a hunk, although I was not the best person to make that judgement. Nicola, our younger daughter, chirped up that it wasn't fair that mummy had monopolised Oliver during the evening. I replied that he had had a bit of a tough time recently, and that Aunt Ellen had asked mummy to be particularly nice to him, and to buck him up a little before he went off to London to start his new job.

I then told them both that as it was late it was really time for them to go to bed, giving them both a hug and a squeeze, before they disappeared up the stairs to their bedrooms.

As they went, Anne came out of the kitchen with two mugs of hot chocolate, handing one to me as she reached my side. When I turned to go into the sitting room, however, she called me back in a way that started a stirring in my loins as she said in a low sexy voice.

"Let's go straight upstairs, we can take our chocolate with us, but I feel so... horny, and I need to fuck really badly. I can't wait to get your clothes off and ride your lovely cock until you beg for mercy."

Well that was an invitation I could hardly refuse, and in seconds we were in our bedroom with the door firmly locked behind us. I didn't even have time to sip at my chocolate before Anne pulled me roughly to her for a passionate kiss, one hand fumbling with my belt, the other firmly clutching my balls through my jeans.

"Careful," I said, "You'll make me spill my chocolate."

"Well put it down on your bedside table, and get your kit off so that I take advantage of you," she replied in a voice made husky by desire.

As soon as I was naked she pushed me backwards onto the bed, unzipping her dress to let it fall to the floor at her feet. As she stood before me in just her bra, knickers, and stockings I revelled in her beauty which still excited me even after twenty years of marriage. Her bra followed her dress revealing her wonderful breasts the nipples erect, and I totally forgot Ellen's equally lovely pair which I had been ogling over dinner. I was even more excited by the large damp patch on the front of her knickers, evidence of her high level of arousal.

Anne then started to tease me, undulating her body seductively as she slowly lowered her knickers before dropping them over my face. I breathed in deeply to take in the delicious scent of her arousal, and then pushed her knickers away so that I could take in the full glory of her nakedness.

"O God, what a delicious pussy," I thought, as my cock swelled and rose to its full length in anticipation of the delights to come.

Beads of liquid from her cunt glistened on the soft curls that framed her labia, the inner lips already swollen and open like the petals of a flower. The head of her clitoris poked through its hood, and I knew that there was no need for foreplay this night, Anne was more than ready to be fucked, almost desperate for her journey to the land of delight.

Without a pause she climbed up onto the bed and straddled my hips, and to hold of my cock in her hand. She started to rub the head against her clitoris and labia to prepare it for entrance into her welcoming cunt. In all the years we had been making love I had always found the moment when my cock first penetrated the entrance to her cunt one of the most exciting and beautiful moments of intercourse, almost as good as the orgasm that was its ultimate goal. This time was no exception. Anne then gently lowered herself until my whole length was enveloped in her velvet depths, the cheeks of her bottom gently caressing my balls. I was in seventh heaven.

Anne rested for a moment to savour the exquisite sensations radiating throughout her body from her loins. She moaned with satisfaction and pleasure before crying out, "Oh yesss, I have been longing for this all evening -- God how I want to be fucked."

Leaning forward she kissed me passionately, parting her lips to plunge her tongue into my mouth in a frenzy of lust, her breasts pressed hard against my chest.

Things soon became a lot more frantic. Anne started to ride up and down my shaft with increasing speed, at the same time squeezing the muscles of her vagina. At the end of each downstroke she wriggled her bottom to increase the sensation on her clitoris, which she rubbed hard against the bones of my pelvis. At the same time she reached back with one hand to squeeze my balls as if she could milk them of all their semen.

I clutched the cheeks of her bottom in an attempt to control her passion, but in just a few minutes she sat up and arched her back, imploring me to pinch her nipples hard before screaming out loud in ecstasy as she began to come. This drove me over the top, and I thrust upwards with my hips to drive my cock even further into her body as my own orgasm overwhelmed me.

The exquisite feeling of my climax, almost painful in its intensity, rose up through my cock until all sensation became focused in its head. Intense waves of pleasure then radiated back down into my loins and into the rest of my body, causing me to shake in spasms of inexpressible joy. I could feel my cock pumping the contents of my balls deep into her vagina, the head of my cock pushing hard against her cervix.

This caused Anne to rise to even greater heights of pleasure, and she began to quiver uncontrollably. She was by now beyond conscious thought, consumed by the sensations wracking her body. Incoherent with pleasure, the only sounds to come from her mouth were squeaks and moans as her climax mounted to its peak. Finally, she began to relax falling slumped against my body, and as she lay there, tears of joy streamed down her face, and a look of utter bliss gradually spread across her face.

Our passion spent, we both drifted in a timeless world of indescribable feeling, aware only of the pleasure we had shared. Eventually we both began to return to full consciousness, and Anne drowsily moved sideways a little so that I was no longer supporting her whole weight. We cuddled together, her left leg across my thigh, and my hand resting lightly on her bottom. I could feel the lips of her pussy and her soaking wet curls pressed against my groin, our combined juices drying on our skin. One arm around my waist, the other caressing my left cheek, she murmured her love and thanks for taking her once again to the edges of eternity. In return I stroked her head, tangling my fingers in her hair with my free hand, and told her of my everlasting devotion to giving her pleasure.

As we lay there in post coital contentment I whispered, "Gemma told me that she thought that Oliver was a hunk, but I am willing to bet that you were even more attracted to him than she was. He certainly seems to have turned you on, you naughty minx."

She said nothing, but just giggled.

Teasingly I went on, "In fact I suspect that you were thinking about him rather than me just now, perhaps imagining that it was his cock inside you."

She pondered for a moment, but what she said next came as a complete surprise.

"It wouldn't surprise me if Gemma wasn't lying in her bed right now playing with her pussy dreaming about Oliver, probably using that nice little vibrator that I gave her for her birthday."

I said nothing as I struggled to digest what she had just said. To be honest I had never given a thought to my daughters' sexuality; they were still my little girls.

After a few minutes in which she appeared lost in contemplation, Anne continued. "Yes, it's true, I would love to play with Oliver's nice young cock before letting him fuck me. It would really turn me on to feel him pump his fertile seed deep into my cunt, and I know that I could show him a really unforgettable time. Ellen told me in confidence that sex with his girlfriend had all been a bit perfunctory and unsatisfying. It would be so nice to show him what heights of ecstasy can be reached with a loving partner."




A Favour for a Friend



"So, you see, I need some help with it, and I trust you. Say something?" Natalie asked, dropping the eye contact she'd managed, blushingly, to maintain to look into her mug.

I paused, thinking. Natalie's request was, needless to say, unexpected and a little unconventional: and I wasn't sure how I was going to respond.

Natalie and I had met almost exactly a decade earlier, when we started at the same university. A group of mutual friends had seen us spend a lot of time over the next four years together, and we were pretty close. It'd never come to anything more—not for any defined reason, just that we were good friends, and that was fine. I'd had a few girlfriends over the years, though I'd never been aware of Natalie being in any substantive relationship. I read between a few lines and thought there might have been a couple of dates, but none of them seemed to lead anywhere. In this regard, Natalie had always been rather reserved, and had never shared much about this side of her life, despite all the time we'd spent together.

We'd not lived in the same city for a half-dozen years, now, as I'd moved away to take a job—Natalie had stayed put, working for the university's economics department, and doing well at it. She currently lived in a flat near the city-centre, a perk of the post, in some ways. I came down to visit several times a year, and Natalie would, once in a while, come my way. We'd drink coffee, discuss our work, occasionally visit somewhere, cook together, and stay up late with a bottle of wine. In many ways, not dissimilar to when we were students. But at its heart, the problem Natalie wanted my help with stemmed from before I met her. A hereditary condition left Natalie with minimal strength and manoeuvrability in her legs: although she could stand and walk, it was painful, and outside her flat she always used a powered chair. In ten years, I think I'd known her visibly struggle only a handful of times, her stoicism and measured approach to circumstances impressing me. Natalie got along, day to day, quite well, with a handful of friends she'd occasionally call on to help with something specific. In its way, that's what this was, I suppose: something she needed a hand with.

After spending most of the day in the city, we'd retreated from the cold autumn day to the warmth of Natalie's flat, and were enjoying a mid-afternoon coffee. We had vague plans for dinner, but hadn't really discussed what we were doing that evening, or before I set off home after lunch tomorrow.

"You know, Matt, I often ask whether you're seeing anyone, but you've not asked after my love life for years. Don't you care any more?" Natalie joked.

I had to laugh at her mournful tone. "Just got bored of always getting the same reply, and getting the brush-off," I retorted.

"And, in truth, I've always been grateful you didn't pry," she admitted, "though it seemed as though you were curious." 

"Well, I was: pretty, smart girl like you, I thought you'd probably get asked out—I assumed you weren't interested. Not entirely my business if you weren't..."

"Too kind," she smiled at the buried compliment, "but you know it's not really that straightforward."

"I know? Well, no, I've always found it nerve-wracking approaching a girl, but—not to blow my own trumpet," I caveated, wryly, "sometimes they approached me. So, why were you turning men away?"

"You've always taken me as I am, and I appreciate that. You've never been odd about my legs, or what they mean, but not everyone's as relaxed about that sort of thing. I'm not sure, really, I'm the dateable sort. Yes, sure, there's the occasional interest, but I don't know: I worry about how it would all work, you know?"

Carefully, not wanting to undermine the abnormal candour, I asked, "Kind of. You didn't want to just take it as it came, and see?"

"I'm not sure it's that simple. We've spent ages together, and you know what I can do, and what I find hard—you know how to help me with awkward furniture, and you've carried me about when it's been needed. I don't trust too many people to do that: you know that. With someone I don't know well, there's all the normal 'getting to know one another' nonsense that everyone faces, but...I just worry, I guess, that it'd be too much, and I'd stress about everything too much to enjoy their company. And now, you see, it's even harder."

She took a ruminative sip of coffee. Waiting, I didn't interrupt, or prompt.

"I avoided romance when I was a teenager. Well, I guess there was the occasional, uh, moment with boys from school at a party, but nothing more than a teenage kiss. Then, when we were at uni, there was enough to deal with without the complications relationships would bring me. Well, that's what I thought then."

Natalie swallowed, looked away, then looked back at me, blushing slightly.

"Sorry to be blunt, but after this long I know you'll cope. The problem is, I feel a bit old now to get on the dating scene for the first time."

I smiled at her, trying to cover for her discomfort. "Bit old? Steady on, we're only 28. And I thought there were a few dates you played down in recent years?"

Managing to rustle up an answering smile, Natalie clarified her embarrassment, "Yes, alright, there were a few—though I thought I'd kept them discreet!—but...well. Matt, I've not slept with anyone. There you go, that's what worries me. How's that going to work? No-one I might start a relationship will be in the same position, like they might, just, have been when I was nineteen or twenty. And I won't know what I'm doing. Well, I'd know what I was doing, I'm not a complete ingénue," she stumbled on, gesturing at her legs, "and I understand the mechanics, but how would these work?"

She sighed.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, gently. "I've never wanted to poke my nose in, and you seemed—well—I suppose 'resigned', now I think about it, to being single. Have you thought of playing a long game, and trying to build on a longer-standing friendship."

I realised what I was saying, and laughed at myself.

"I'm not trying to sell myself here, you understand; if you were going to hit on me, I think you'd have done it long before now."

Alarmingly, Natalie blushed deeper, rather than laughing.

"That's just it, Matt. I'm not trying to hit on you: but I do want to ask your help. I'm not asking for a relationship, as it were, just...some practical help. I've worked myself up, now, to worrying that my inexperience is going to stand in the way of seeing someone. Instead of just worrying about, you know, the first physical intimacy with them, I'll be worrying about it being my first time. And I don't want that kind of pressure in a relationship where, actually, intimacy is kind of key. It's my own fault, in a way: I should have got all that out of the way sooner, when we were all messing around at university, and most relationships didn't last too long. It matters more, now, and I've not figured out how I can deal with sex already, and I really don't want to take the burden of my virginity to a relationship. So, you see, I need some help with it, and I trust you. Would you say something?" Natalie asked, dropping the eye contact she'd managed to maintain, to look into her mug.

I paused, trying to gauge my move.

"Natalie, what do you mean?" I asked quietly, "How do you want me to help? Advice on what to expect?"

Finally, she grinned at me. "Damn it, you've always been too nice. No, advice I can get, in this wondrous age of IT. I need someone I trust, and who knows me, and where I hope it won't jeopardise the relationship, to—well, to use my metaphor, relieve me of my burden. I know I'm not the prettiest girl you've dated, no, don't argue, I'm not: but...would you like to spend the night with me, please?"

"Not knowing how to reply is becoming a pattern in this conversation, Natalie. I...don't know what to say. Don't you think it would get weird? Besides, what are we going to do? I agree, and we just strip off and screw on the sofa? I mean, I'm...flattered, I suppose is the word. It's a brave thing to ask, and a big...responsibility? You realise it'll probably be...well, awkward, like you said?"

"That sounds like you're agreeing, I'd say," she grinned, bashfully, then returned to her more customary repartee, "and I don't think you argued my deprecation of my looks enough, mister."

"That's beside the point," I objected, not wanting to laugh this off, "I don't want things to be odd afterwards, and it's not going to be—wouldn't be, I mean—entirely 'normal'. You've never shown any interest, before, in me like that. And any attraction I felt, I've put aside years ago, because you didn't seem interested. What I mean is, how do you think we go from just friends two hours ago, to sleeping together later?"

Seriously, now, Natalie countered me. "Happens all the time, doesn't it? Think about it: long term couples aren't actually groping one another in public all the time. Are we any less close than many lovers? We've spent enough time together. We've drunk too much together, made fools of ourselves, argued over all sorts of nonsense, and still been friends afterwards. This is just one more thing we do together—and if it's not so great, then just think of all the awful movies we've watched: they might have been crap, but we laughed it off and carried on."

"This from the woman saying that she's worried about the first time in a relationship? What's different?"

"I don't know, entirely. I guess it's that we know we can be platonic friends, and so it doesn't matter if the sex is awful—or if I find out it's not something I can make work. If I start seeing someone, that feels like it would be a deal-breaker, for a lot of men. And, maybe, me. I don't know. What I do know is that I've been thinking about this for months. I weighed up whether you'd be offended by even the suggestion, as well as the consequences. But I'm tired of not knowing what I'm missing, for one thing, and I don't want to be alone, either. Solving the latter, for me, now, means knowing I can make this bit of a relationship work. And at this point, I need it to be someone who likes me, knows me, isn't going to be weird about my legs, or how I look, and can help me. Please, Matt?"

"Can I think about it?" I asked, stalling.

"Of course: I'll make another coffee," she smiled at me. While she put the drinks together in the adjacent kitchen, I tried to think it through. She came back, and we sat in slightly tense silence for a few minutes.

I broke it: "I'm not saying yes, yet. But how would you want to do this? Have you thought?"

"A bit," she admitted. "Do you mean the, um, transition, or literally 'it'?"

"Well, both, I guess. I will modestly admit to some experience with the latter," I smiled, "but none with the former, unless you want to go on a date, which sits rather at odds with what you've said."

"Could we just have dinner as planned, share a drink, and assume I'll be receptive to your advances? I know you wouldn't expect to make any, normally, but I'm sure you could!"

"Yeah, that could work, I suppose. Oh, alright. One condition, though, and one question: if it gets uncomfortable, or odd, we call it a night, and like you say, laugh it off as a bad idea. Yes?

"Agreed. The question?" Natalie asked.

"A practical one: I didn't bring any condoms, as you might realise. Did your planning extend that far?"

"One better," she grinned, triumphantly, "I'm, shall we say, taking something. Though, to be frank, I'm probably infertile," she admitted, the smile fading slightly, "but that's another thing entirely."

"Oh...I'm sorry, Natalie, I didn't know."

"That's ok, it's not really ever come up, has it? Anyway, it makes this slightly more straightforward, I suppose. Now, what are you cooking me as part of your seduction?" she grinned.

Returning to more familiar ground, we planned our meal, and, as evening fell, started to cook. Our regular, habitual interaction resumed, though there was a slight, but palpable tension, now, between us. I found myself, on more than one occasion, looking at Natalie in a different way. A very stereotypical, male, appraising way: not something I'd done to her for a while. For all that, it was a pleasingly anticipatory appraisal; Natalie might have belittled her looks, but she was attractive. Small and slender, with long black hair, she was always well dressed, and when she chose to deploy it properly, had a knock-out smile. Despite my reservations, long-buried desire started to manifest itself. With, admittedly, some nerves. What Natalie wanted worried me, in truth, more than just anxiety about a new lover.

Our meal over, we returned to the scene of our earlier debate, and I refilled our glasses. Whereas, often, Natalie would sit across from me, in her own chair, this time she came to sit by me. By unvoiced agreement, we ignored the topic that hung, heavily now, between us, covering instead a litany of subjects less...pressing. I noticed Natalie was more often mentioning or reminiscing about our joint past—unconsciously, or not, reiterating our bonds of familiarity and friendship. I hope it helped her: I have to say it calmed and agonized me in about equal measure.

The wine helped, though, and after a couple of hours we were, I think, relaxed. Or as relaxed as we were going to be. Natalie leant across to refill my glass: her face a foot away from mine, I saw a chance, and kissed her cheek.

"Careful, I'll spill the wine," she smiled, concentrating, "I'm not sure you've got your timing right."

She finished pouring, and turned to look at me.

"Took you long enough," she admonished, before leaning over, and kissing me back. My stomach jolted, as I found myself somewhere I hadn't ever expected, my old friend's lips locked on mine. Quickly finding my feet, and rested a hand on her upper arm, and enjoyed the contact. Inexperienced Natalie might be, but she did know how to kiss.

Moments stretched.

Natalie broke away, beaming, her hair slightly dishevelled where my hand had crept into it.

"That," she said, "was better than I expected. Oh; sorry, that's now how I meant that."

"No offence taken; I have to agree," I grinned. Gently, I pushed her back on the sofa, and, my face above hers, kissed her again. With a free hand, I stroked down her arm, and held her flank. I'd picked Natalie up countless times, to help her negotiate steps, stairs, or transient difficulties. I'd never, though, touched her like this. Wondering whether it would feel strange, my hand slowly, cautiously, tentatively stroked further, onto her hip.

Natalie kissed me back, unabated, one hand creeping into my hair, her other reaching instinctively to my waist. I wanted to balance two things: going slowly enough that Natalie was comfortable, and felt in control, but not taking too long about it, in case we lost the moment.

Fearful that reality could interpose, my hand stole, softly, across Natalie's stomach, and edged to her chest. The small, smooth mound of a breast was there for the taking. Lightly, my fingers danced across the surface, and a first small gasp broke from Natalie. I froze.

"Sorry, you're ok," she reassured me, "It's good, I'm just...not used to it. Keep going," she grinned, pulling me towards her.

I did, stroking with more confidence across the fabric of her blouse. Beneath it, I could just make out the shape of a nipple hardening. Sinking my face into her neck, I freed the buttons of the shirt, and slipped a hand onto the warm, bare skin of her stomach. As I caressed, Natalie arched her back gently, pressing back against me. My hand found the lower bound of her bra, and slid onto the swell of her breast, nudging the now-prominent tip before I ran a delicate finger along the scallop edge of the fabric. Boldly, I crooked a finger-tip under the bra, and ran it along, catching Natalie's sensitive nipple as I passed.

Nat gave a little sigh, and gripped my waist. Eagerly, now, I abandoned her breast, and reached behind her, unsnagging the clasp of her bra. With a supporting hand on her spine, she came upright, and between us we discarded her top and bra. Her small, high breasts exposed to my view for the first time, I sank my face to them, enraptured. I cupped one, resting my thumb on the firm dark nipple, while I nuzzled the other, tugging it gently between my lips.

Natalie's hands, free to wander, quested across me. One ran down my back, across my arse, and onto my thigh. Slowly, tentatively, it edged over my hip, and towards my crotch. Hand and mouth full of her tits, I was already hard, and her reaching fingers inevitably found my shaft. Her hand froze, momentarily, and then, curious, explored its length. Her hand discovered the head, then her fingers gauging shape and size, stroked down to its base, and the softer tissue of my balls.

"My lack of practice is going to show here, Matt," Natalie murmured in my ear, "I want to get into your trousers, but I'm not sure how."

I took my mouth from her beautiful tit, and grinned at her, "I really never thought I'd hear you say that, you know. Undo the belt, and the catch; I'll probably get the idea, and we'll wiggle them down. Try?"

Nat laughed, "All right, I suppose I'm meant to be learning."

She followed my advice, and, with my willing aid, my loosened trousers fell to around my knees. Fearless, Natalie hooked her fingers into the waistband of my shorts.

"Here goes," she whispered, teasingly, as she kissed me deeply on the lips.

I chuckled around the kiss, one hand behind her neck as I leant on my elbow, the other teasing her nipple once more. Her hand ran up my inner thigh, and came to rest, cupping my sack. Gently, she held one ball between her fingers, exploring the soft shape within the compliant skin, before cupping them both in a small hand. I tried to stay still and quiet as she investigated, but a small sigh escaped my lips as her hand came up my shaft, and grazed over the sensitive frenulum. Natalie giggled, as she stroked back over the spot, enjoying my response. Wrapping her hand round me, she gave my shaft a squeeze, and tentatively moved her hand up and down.

Natalie looked down and watched my cock. She seemed fascinated by the foreskin covering and uncovering the head.

"That's surprisingly mesmerizing," she commented, watching intently.

"You obviously have an idea of the mechanics; I didn't assume you would," I commented.

"Yes," she smiled, glancing up at me, "This might be my first contact in ages, but I get the anatomy, and the basic mechanics. I've played with one of these before, years ago, but not so...openly, I suppose. You know, more of a hand-down-pants thing. This is much more fun."

"Well, personally, I think you're overdressed," I declared. As she toyed with me, I unbuttoned her trousers. "Do you want to take them off, or do you want a hand?"

"I'll do it," Nat said, releasing me to wriggle her legs out, and dump the trousers with her blouse. I quickly unbuttoned my shirt, and discarded my clothes, too. Drinking in the sight of her slender legs, my eyes ran up, over her small black briefs, across her flat stomach and breasts. Her face, though, looked a little uncertain, and I smiled encouragingly at her.

"Matt...", she began, "I'm worried you'll think I look strange. Would you come back here and kiss me, and stroke me instead of watching me take these off, please?"

It sounded fine to me, and I lay back down alongside her, and kissed her, full and deep, while I stroked her head with one hand, and held her waist. Keeping my attention occupied, Natalie quietly rid herself of her underwear, and lay naked and vulnerable next to me. Softly, slowly, sensuously, my hand smoothed a path down, and came to rest on a bare buttock. I paused, waiting, but Natalie didn't tense or flinch, and I took this reassurance as an invitation.




A Favour for a Friend



Taking my time, my hand inched around her hip, stroking over the bone, and across to a spot directly below her navel. Gently, my fingers explored downwards, coming first to soft, dense hair. I carefully teased my fingers through it, curious to establish its extent. Less than I expected: it was trimmed to a narrow strip.

Onwards, my fingertips delved, finding the sensitive cleft. Delicately, I nudged the hood of her buried clit, and a gasp broke from Nat, her eyes screwed shut as I kissed her mouth and face, concentrating on the sensations from her pussy. Downwards, I ran a finger gently along her nether lip, and her legs spread apart, granting me access. I rested my hand on her, palm over her mound, and the tips of my middle fingers carefully nudging apart her lips to find her wet centre.

"Seems perfect, and totally normal, to me, Nat," I commented.

"Really?" she asked, opening her eyes to regard me warily.

"Definitely," I affirmed. "Haven't found anything I don't expect. Well, that's not true, I didn't expect you to have trimmed hair, actually."

Nat chuckled. "Nice to surprise you a little. It's because of the physiotherapy. Hair poking out isn't a look I want. Anyway, what do we do now?"

I thought, gauging, while my fingers tenderly explored her.

"You seem more...relaxed than you could be. Let's play here, for a bit, then perhaps go through to your bed?"

"Sounds good," said Natalie, taking my shaft in her hand once more, and pulling me in for another embrace. As she familiarized herself with my cock, I slickened a finger on her wetness, and circled her clit. Nat's back arched as she pressed against me, and she moaned slightly. I began to get her measure, and continued rubbing her nub slowly but surely. Natalie's arousal continued to build, and her hand on my shaft lost some of its coordination, her attention focussing now on the new sensations in her loins. I edged a second hand between her thighs, searching for the entrance to her cunny. I found it, resting one finger at the introitus. Carefully, I sank the tip into her passage. Natalie gasped, her hand clutching at me, and her breathing roughened. Barely two inches in her, I could feel the tightness of her pussy on that single digit, as I worked her clit.

Natalie shuddered as an orgasm ran through her, her hips bucking against my invading fingers, and her head going back slightly with a long, drawn out moan. I immediately slowed my finger, maintaining only minimal pressure on the now-sensitive nub, and carefully edged out of her pussy.

Nat's breathing gradually settled, and she blinked at me as she focused her sight.

"Heck," came a rare profanity, "That alone was something."

"I'm surprised you came so easily, actually; I'm not...you know, we've not practiced, as it were."

Natalie blushed. "I never said I had no experience, Matt: I can get myself off, and you clearly know what you're doing."

"Thanks," I grinned. "Now, are you ready to try properly, do you think?"

"I...yes, I think so."

I grinned, encouragingly, as I stood, then leant over to pick her up. This, at least, was something we were both accustomed to, though normally with more clothes. I slid an arm under her knees, and one behind her back, as Natalie wrapped her arms round me. She grinned as I lifted her, and my erect cock bumped into her arse.

"That's not usually a problem!"

"Well, you can hardly blame me, with a naked pretty girl in my arms. Actually, you'd probably be offended if I wasn't hard, wouldn't you?"

Nat smiled at the compliment, and didn't contradict me, as I made our way to her bedroom. She'd left the covers folded back, and I laid her down on one side, and lay beside her. Nat traced a random shape over my chest, her hand working lower, and eventually reacquainting her with my erection.

"I guess you don't just stuff it in, do you?" she asked.

"That would be rude, I think. No, not quite, though that was one reason for before. There's a few ways we can do this, though, and I don't know what you'd prefer. I think me going on top would make you feel squashed, and it might be painful for your legs to have me lying between them, pushing them apart. If you go on top, you'll be able to control the entry; but it'll be hard work on your legs. The alternative is to lie on your side, with me spooning you from behind. I can help prop your leg up, so it should be fairly comfortable. What do you think?"

Natalie ran a fingertip over the flared rim of my cock's head, thinking. "That sounds sensible. Are you ready? Do we have to do anything first?"

"Yeah, I'm ready: sorry, I don't get longer or harder," I smiled, "and you've already got contraception covered. The only thing is whether you have any lube: that'd help, I expect."

"No time like the present, then," Nat grinned back, rolling onto her side, "Try the second drawer, I thought it might be handy." I fished around, marvelling at her preparation, and found it. I applied a good squirt to my shaft, leaving some on my fingers. Lying back behind Natalie, I reached between her thighs, which parted for me, and up to her warm pussy. With my slippery fingers, I slicked between her lips, and grabbed my cock. Shuffling up on the bed, I positioned the head at the entrance to her cunny.

"Ready?"

"Mm-hmm."

As slowly as I could force myself, I pressed the bulging head of my cock against her virgin orifice. With infinitesimal speed, I pushed forward, and my glans slipped into the tight, warm grip of her passage. A small grunt came from Natalie.

"Keep going," she murmured.

I did so, slowly pressing on, until half my length was buried in her snug embrace. Almost as slowing, I pulled back out, wondering at the exquisite friction on my cock. I started forward again, and got almost entirely into Nat, before sliding myself nearly free. As she relaxed, Natalie's cunny stretched to accommodate my length and girth, and after a few careful strokes, I was sunk balls-deep into her. I paused, and kissed the back of her head.

"You ok?"

"Yes. Don't take this the wrong way—it feels bigger than it is."

"I'll try not to take offence," I said, lightly, "This position comfortable, then?"

"Yes," she reassured me, "I'm fine. Could you...touch me from there? I think I could come again."

It was my pleasure to reach round and probe between her lips to locate her clitoris. I started to unhurriedly plunge my cock into her, as I rubbed her clit with a circling motion. Conscious that, this first time, a marathon fuck was unlikely to be something Nat enjoyed, I my own climax start to build. The slow, leisurely pace was off-set by her warm, compact cunt clasping my cock, and the increasing tempo of Natalie's breathing. She twisted at the waist, enabling us to kiss once more. Though moving carefully and relatively slowly, I was, nonetheless, sinking my full length into her freshly deflowered pussy with every stroke.

Combined with the finger on her clit, and the tender embrace, Natalie hurtled towards a fresh climax. Recognizing the unmistakable signs that she was about to come, I let my own orgasm approach in sympathy, and as her hips shuddered I thrust resolutely into her core, over and again, until the explosion in my own pelvis echoed hers. With a gasp, my seed flooded out of me, driven into the depth of her cunt.

With the intensity of the sensation, neither of us spoke for long moments, my hips rocking as I moved my shaft but an inch within her.

"Oh, Matt," purred Nat, "That was...much better than I thought. Thank you."

I returned the deep, affectionate kiss, and stroked her slim body. She rolled, slightly clumsy, to lie on her side facing me. She smiled, and stretched.

"You'll be stiff and sore in the morning," I warned her.

"I know, but it was worth it. I know you were expecting to sleep in the guest room, but would you like to stay here tonight? I don't think I snore."

I recognized that the joke covered her uncertainty in asking, and knew it mattered to her. Besides, I never object to sleeping alongside a pretty girl, so my answer was immediate and sincere.

"I'd love to. Elbow me if I squash you, though, yeah?"

"That's fair," she allowed, snuggling up to me and resting her head on my chest. "Sleep well, then. And thank you, again."

I chuckled. "No problem: I really enjoyed doing you that favour. Thank you for asking me: I know I was uncertain."

The post-coital drowsiness meant I fell asleep quickly. I woke, briefly, at about four, finding myself spooning Nat's naked body once again. From her breathing, she seemed to sleep, so I tucked my arm softly round her, and went back to sleep.

When I woke, I found myself alone: in an unusual bed, I was, momentarily, disoriented. As I reflected and remembered, a concern grew. I knew Natalie often woke early, needing little sleep, but what if unhappiness underpinned her absconding. I'd greatly enjoyed the previous night, and the new flowering of our relationship, born of the trust she'd had in me. But what if that wasn't how she felt?

I lie, silently, and wondered, listening carefully for any signs of life elsewhere in the flat. I made out the sound of Natalie singing, and relaxed. While musical, Nat can't sing, going flat within bars, and so she'll only sing in private, rarely, and—I was sure—not if she was having second thoughts about last night.

Sure enough, after a few more minutes, Natalie came through, carrying two mugs, and wearing a t-shirt and a smile. I smiled back, relieved.

"Sorry I got up without you; you know I wake up early," Nat apologised. "Coffee by way of apology?" she asked, offering me one.

"Thanks," I said, gratefully taking it. "I worried you'd done a runner, then realised you'd never sleep this late."

Natalie sat on the edge of the bed, next to me.

"Now, why would you think that," she asked with a grin, her eyes twinkling over her mug, "sfter you so kindly helped me out?"

"It can't claim it was utterly selfless," I pointed out, "I had fun, too."

"Good," said Nat. She took another sip of her drink, then put it down on the bed-side table. "Because I don't think I'm done with you."

Before I could respond (or, even, process her meaning), she'd pulled her t-shirt over her head. Naked underneath, my eyes ran over her slight frame, hunger suddenly flooding through me, as my cock twitched to life. Natalie reached over, and pulled back the cover. Her eyes fixed on mine as she deliberately took hold of my swelling shaft, and deliciously exposed the sensitive head. Her fingertip ran along the length of the underside as she spoke.

"Having got the...awkwardness of my first time out of the way, I want to try a couple of other things. Partly, I admit, because I actually enjoyed things, and I'd like to. Partly I want to find out what other positions work for me."

She looked at my now-rigid shaft.

"It appears you wouldn't mind?" she grinned.

I laughed. "No, I couldn't claim to, and I don't. If that's what you'd like, I'd love to."

In response, Nat leant over to kiss me, deeply, with a smile.

"Can you help me get on top, then?"

With hands steadying her at hip and shoulder, I helped Natalie straddle me, so that she sat on my stomach. She reached forward to take some of her weight on her arms, as I reached into the gap between us to help position myself. Looking down to see what I was doing, Nat shifted herself carefully so that the head of my cock nestled between the cleft of her lips. Rock-still, I waited as she slowly edged the flared head into her cunt. It took an effort not to respond to the heat of that tight grip with an answering thrust, but I let Natalie control the rate of the transfixion. Her pussy was tight, so tight, but wet, and I knew she'd been planning this before she came through. A hiss came from the slender girl as she sank my shaft deep into her cunny, then a small smile as she crammed the last of me in.

"I rather like being here, you know," she said, thoughtfully, "But I'm not sure how practical it is."

Experimentally, Nat lifted herself, coming half off me, before sinking back down.

"No, I couldn't do that many times," she admitted, "It's too much effort."

"Hang on," I said, "and we'll see if I can help, if you like it there." I levered myself up, one arm behind me, and the other holding Natalie's waist. "Can you wrap your legs and arms round me?"

I helped her do so, her legs stiff, and put my hands under her arse. Natalie weighs very little, a combination, I think, of genetics, a small appetite, and her condition. It was easy to lift her as I repositioned my own legs to give me some leverage. Then, by combining a drop of my pelvis with a lift of hers, I created a slow rhythm of thrusts. As my penis filled her passage, Natalie gave a little moan, enjoying the ride.

"That's good," she murmured. "Isn't it a lot of work for you, though?"

"A bit," I agreed, "but there's not a lot of you. However, I don't have a hand free to touch you with."

Nat blushed. "I could spare one myself...that's something I do know how to do!"

Burying her face in my neck, Natalie reached to the junction between us, and I could feel her hand finding, and delving into the fold of her pudenda. Unsurprisingly, she had immediate effect on herself, and I could feel her hips rock slightly to help me. I maintained a gentle pace of thrusts, slowly impaling Nat, and then withdrawing from her tight grasp.

Nat lifted her face, her eyes bright.

"That'll do: it's still not great for my legs. Can I try lying on my back, instead?"

"Of course. I don't want to squash you, though. Can you try lying back from where you are?"

Agreeing, I helped Natalie lower herself onto the bed, taking the opportunity to admire her body as it stretched before me. One hand still reached for her clitoris, a circling fingertip dancing over the nub, and the other rested on my knee, poking out aside her waist. Nat could now straighten her legs somewhat, as I still supported her pelvis. However, I could bring more speed now, and watched, spellbound, as my shaft began to thrust deep into her with every stroke, disappearing between Natalie's lips to fill her. Transfixed, Nat's head tilted back, and little gasps began to come. I concentrated on the sensation of her sheathing me, and the sight of lithe body beneath me; her narrow waist, small pert tits with erect nipples, and a tell-tale flush across her sternum, and the sea of dark hair beneath her head. She grinned back at me.

"This is much better, Matt," she confirmed, "I think slightly flexed legs is good. And much as I'd happily stay here, and let you, er, screw me silly, can we move? I don't know how long I can kneel for, but could we try with you behind me?"

Reluctant, in some ways, to lose my bewitching view, I nonetheless complied. I pulled my slickened cock from Nat's cunny, and she rolled herself over, lifting her arse into the air. From one gorgeous view to another, I took a second to admire her pussy, her neat darkly haired lips framing the slightly splayed lips and pink orifice, and the other still-virgin pucker above. Lining up my cock, I momentarily enjoyed the kiss of her netherlips on my bulbous head, before smoothly lancing her cunny. As my balls came to rest against the top of her cleft, I sighed myself, deep inside my beautiful friend.

"I don't know why, but that angle," said Nat, looking back at me, "is doing something good."

"Sorry to sound technical: it's the anterior wall of the vagina, which has the G-spot in it: I'm probably stimulating it more this way round."

"If you say so," smiled Natalie.

Encouraged, I settled into an even rhythm. My hands on her hips, I was helping Nat keep her balance, and supporting some of her weight. Once we were a bit more settled, though, I ran my right hand up her smooth flank, up to cup her tit. No more than a perfect handful, I gently held her nipple between thumb and forefinger. Nat, moaning softly, pushed herself back onto me, driving me that little bit deeper into her. Returning my hand to support her once more, Natalie collapsed forwards onto her front, both hands buried under her. While one was in her own crotch, she surprised me with fingers questing back to nudge at my balls as they swung below my plunging shaft. The extra stimulation, and Nat's obvious arousal, started me firmly on the track towards climax.

"Before I get carried away, Nat," I began, "is there anything else you want to try?"

"No," came the breathless reply, "This is fine; and as you predicted, I'm a bit stiff and sore."

Honour served, and with Nat's close-fitting cunt clenching around my cock, I needed no further encouragement. Natalie took charge of her own orgasm, and I could feel it building in the arch of her back; the tremors in her hips; and the muffled moans. Fighting to hold on, I tried not to plough the slender girl too roughly, conscious of her delicate, newly deflowered state. As Natalie came, though, her cunny gripped onto me. Pulling back with spasmodic muscles, I sank as far as I could into her twitching passage, her fingers finding and holding my balls beneath her.

I erupted.

Buried full in her, hot seed coursed out of me and into Nat's full-stretched pussy with a long, low moan. My hips rocked slightly, as my instinctive thrusts weakened. As they subsided, and careful not to flatten her, I toppled us gently to the side, my shaft still within her, and cradled Natalie.

"Even better a second time," she whispered, twisting to kiss me. "Thank you for this weekend: it's been fun, and I'm glad I asked, now."



A Favour for a Friend



I just lay there with Anne in my arms, excited by the thought of what was might happen before very long, and hoping that I would be able to watch her mating with Oliver.

Slightly worried by my silence, and thinking that I might be jealous, Anne continued, "Whatever happens, you will always be my favourite lover. However many men may take me, it will never the same as it is with you. I really enjoy fucking, but with us it is not just lust, but a union of our souls."

I kissed her hair softly, and murmured, "I know that you love me, and I have no fears that you would ever leave me. All I want is for you to be happy, and I enjoy sharing you with other men. Watching you ascend to heights of sexual bliss is beautiful, and never ceases to arouse me."

Anne then moved from my side and squatted on her haunches in front of me, her thighs parted so that I could see her pussy lips and clitoris coated with our dried juices, a trickle of semen still running down from her cunt towards her anus.

She spread her inner lips lasciviously and purred, "Come on, before we go to sleep why don't you clean me up with your wicked tongue, and I if you are good I might just give you a nice blow job when you've finished."

Needing no further encouragement, and excited by Anne's confession of her lust for Oliver, I quickly turned over and slid up the bed so that my head was between her legs. I started to lick her pussy, sucking her engorged lips into my mouth before flicking the tip of her swollen clitoris with my tongue. She soon started to writhe and moan as new waves of pleasure washed over her. As she started the build up towards her climax, I inserted my index finger into her cunt to make sure it was fully lubricated and then gently pushed it passed the resistance of her sphincter muscles into her anus, inserting my thumb into her wet and slippery cunt.

The combined assault of my tongue and fingers quickly drove Anne over the edge into another orgasm, not as violent as her earlier climax but longer lasting, leaving her utterly sated. She lay back on the bed with a look of utter contentment and bliss on her face. She murmured words of thanks and love, as I looked on in complete adoration for this wonderful woman who was my soul mate and the centre of my existence.

As she returned to earth, Anne remembered her promised to complete my evening with a blow job. She pushed me back onto the bed and gently took the head of my cock between her lips, stroking the shaft with one hand and caressing my balls with the other. She then slowly licked up and down the shaft whilst squeezing the head of my cock just below the glans, before taking my balls into her mouth and sucking them as she wrapped her hands around my cock, sliding them up and down with increasing frequency. I started to thrust my hips up and down in time with her hands, and as I neared my climax she took the head of my cock into her mouth again, swallowing all of my come as I spurted again and again, exquisite sensations flooding my entire body as I floated in a sea of inexpressible joy.

Our lovemaking complete we snuggled together under the duvet, our bedtime chocolate forgotten as we drifted off into sleep together, one in our abiding love -- the true union of souls.

*****

At this point in my story, I really ought to come clean. Although I described our relationship with Ellen and David as mildly flirtatious, about three years previously it had changed over the course of one night into something much naughtier. Subsequently they introduced us to their swinging lifestyle, which we embraced with considerable enthusiasm and enjoyment.

I am sure, however, that my readers will be impatient to find out what happened next in the story of Anne and Oliver. Consequently, the description of our original seduction by Ellen and David, and its deliciously depraved consequences will not be told here, although it will be the subject of later stories from my pen. 

***** 

The next morning Anne and I awoke to another beautiful summer's day. We had fallen asleep in each other's arms, happy and fulfilled by our lovemaking; for the moment at least, our mutual passion spent. It felt good to be alive, lying there alongside the woman I loved, secure in the knowledge of her deep love for me. 

We got up late, content to laze in bed in that state of blissful lethargy that often follows a night of love. Once we were dresesd, and had eaten our breakfast, we spent the day as we did most Sundays. I caught up on the newspapers, and then went outside to potter around the garden. Anne busied herself preparing the family meal, a leisurely affair, which we ate together gathered around the dining table. The girls chattered away as usual about boys and other girlish things. Anne and I did not feel the need to say much, quite happy to be together in the silent intimacy of two people who have shared their lives for many years. 

It was late in the evening, after the girls had gone to bed, before Anne started to talk about the thoughts and plans she had been making for the following weekend. It was only then that I realised that Oliver had been on her mind all the time. "I rang Mum earlier, and I have arranged for you to drop the girls off at her place on Friday evening, and pick them up again sometime on Monday," she said, "You know how much she enjoys having them around since Dad died." 

My pulse quickened at the thought of a weekend alone together, but as she continued I realised that she had quite different ideas. "I have also spoken to Ellen, and Oliver will be coming round early on Saturday evening, and she will not be expecting him home until lunchtime the next day. She will make sure he has a good meal, because I don't anticipate that we will spend much time eating. He is going to need all his strength for what I have planned for him. Ellen will try to fill him in about our novel sexual lifestyle, so I hope he won't be too alarmed when I start to seduce him." 

As she spoke, I felt a familiar stirring in my groins at the thought of watching Oliver plunder the riches of my wife's gorgeous body. "I hope I will be allowed to watch," I said, "I am really turned on by the thought of watching his cock sliding in and out of your delicious cunt until you come together in mutual ecstasy." 

She thought for a moment, then said, "Yes, I will let you watch us, but I'm not going to let you fuck me again after tonight until Oliver has given me everything that he has." She laughed, "I expect that as a young man in his prime, he will be able to come and come again, and I am really excited thinking about the hours of pleasure he will give me. But I want to be really horny for him by Saturday, so tonight is the last night for a while for you buster." 

She then stood up, lifted her dress over her head and dropped it on the floor, standing just out of reach. Quickly she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, holding it over her breasts with one hand. She did a little dance in front of me, letting her bra fall to the ground as she did so, her ripe breasts bouncing gently and enticingly. She then slipped her fingers into the waistband of her lacy panties and slipped them down her thighs to reveal her golden bush, the lips of her pussy peeking through the curls. I started to stand up so that I could take her in my arms, but she turned and fled, giggling as she went. 

"If you want me, you had better come and get me," she called softly as she ran up the stairs, "Otherwise you are going to have to wait for a week, although I am sure Ellen will make sure you don't get too frustrated." 

I chased after her up the stairs and into our bedroom and shut the door firmly behind me. Anne was lying on the bed, her legs parted, lasciviously holding her labia apart with her fingers to reveal the pink flesh within. In a flash I undressed, letting my clothes fall where I stood, and then I was upon her, with one swift movement driving my cock deep into her open cunt. I paused for a moment to savour the exquisite sensation of the warm velvety lining of her vagina enfolding the shaft. Then I started to fuck her in long steady strokes, her hips rising up to meet me as I thrust deep into her. 

There was nothing subtle or gentle about our coupling. We were like people possessed by a frenzy of lust, our imaginations running wild in anticipation of the weekend of seduction and debauchery to come. In her ecstasy, Anne raked her fingernails down my back, writhing beneath me as waves of pleasure washed through her body. As I drove on towards my climax, I pushed my chest hard against her, pinning her to the bed, driven by the overwhelming desire to possess her completely. I roughly sought her lips with mine, thrusting my tongue into her mouth in time with the thrusts of my cock deep into her cunt. Each time my cock was fully engulfed, I drove hard against her cervix as if I could penetrate even further into her helpless body, my swollen balls slapping hard against her anus.

After a few minutes I could feel that familiar warmth and tingling in my groin, signalling that my orgasm was close. I thrust even harder into Anne, grinding my pubic bones hard against her clitoris. Then I started to come, a sharp sensation rising up like a spear from the root of my penis, and erupting from its head to pierce deep into Anne's cunt. My legs were shaking uncontrollably as I pumped spurt after spurt of hot semen into her deepest recesses. Waves of intense pleasure radiated from my penis back through my body and deep into my brain. Almost deafened by the rushing sound of the blood in my head, I was vaguely aware of Anne screaming out obscenity after obscenity, as her own orgasm wracked her body in paroxysms of almost unbearable pleasure. 

I slumped on top of Anne, exhausted by the intensity of my climax. After a couple of minutes I had recovered sufficiently to roll off onto my side, so that she could breathe more easily. Her chest was rising and falling as she tried to draw oxygen into her lungs, and she looked as if she had just run a marathon. Her face and breasts were flushed a deep pink, and her hair was damp and tousled, but as I looked at her, I thought that she looked radiantly beautiful. Words were inadequate to describe how I felt in that moment, but I thanked the Fates that they had given me this woman, and granted me enormous privilege of being her lifelong companion and soul mate. 

Despite the warmth of the summer night we soon started to feel cold as the sweat of our exertions dried on our bodies. I got up and went into the bathroom where I grabbed a couple of towels, and after we had rubbed each other down, we cuddled together under the duvet. We lay there in each other's arms, as the delicious lethargy of post-coital bliss flowed through our bodies and minds, and before many minutes had passed, fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. 

The following week passed very slowly. Although I had a very good SLR, I didn't think that explicit pictures of two people engaged in all manner of sexual activities would get past the censors if I sent ordinary colour negative films for processing and printing in the normal way, so I made sure that I had sufficient packs of film for my Polaroid camera -- this was before the days of inexpensive digital cameras. Anne had her hair and nails done, and went to a very expensive shop in town to find suitable lingerie for Oliver's delectation and delight. She also spoke to Ellen several times on the phone for what seemed like hours, but I was too polite to ask what they had been talking about, although I have no doubt that Oliver's seduction was the chief topic of conversation. Anne had made it her mission to do what Ellen had asked, and give Oliver a really good time. At the same time she was ardently looking forward to what she hoped would be a time of extreme sexual pleasure and fulfilment for her as well. 

Finally Saturday dawned. Anne stayed in bed until late in the morning, so I took her breakfast of chocolate, eggs Benedict, and fresh figs, all washed down with a glass of champagne. I laid out her sexiest bathrobe on the bed, and then went into the bathroom to run her bath, adding verbena and green tea scented bath salts for a really sensual experience. She stayed in the bath for nearly an hour, then washed and dried her hair to give an artful natural look. When she had finished, she came downstairs dressed in just her robe for a light lunch of oysters, lobster and avocado salad, followed by strawberries and whipped cream, served with another glass of champagne. 

After lunch she took a short nap, before starting to get ready for Oliver, who was due to arrive at about 7 o'clock in the evening. At about 6 o'clock I looked in to see how she was getting on. She was seated at her dressing table, absolutely naked, carefully applying her make up in ways that would subtly enhance her natural beauty. She looked ravishing, and for a moment I wished that all this effort was for me.

Hearing me at the door, she turned, and as I looked down her body, I had a most delicious shock. Gone were the soft curls of reddish blond hair that had framed her adorable pussy, and she was completely bald, naked as a baby. The effect was to accentuate the plump outer lips of her vulva, and my eyes were irresistibly drawn to her clitoris, now revealed in all its glory, the tip just poking through the hood. I was rendered speechless for a moment, and then let out a low whistle of appreciation as I feasted on her beauty. 

Anne looked at me with a twinkle in her eye, and said, "That surprised you, didn't it. Just imagine what the effect will be on Oliver when he sees my pussy for the first time. It really turns me on to have a naked pussy, it is so sensitive, and I think I will come just from Oliver's touch when he strokes me for the first time. I can't wait to feel his fingers parting my lips to explore the hidden glories of my pussy. And when he eventually puts his cock into my cunt, I will be able to enjoy the feeling of his flesh pressed against mine without any barriers. I imagine that it will be so sensual, as if we are melting into each other." 

She then parted her legs, and gently stroked her labia, revealing the pink inner lips, like the petals of an exotic flower. "Come and worship my pussy," she whispered huskily, "A little attention from your lips and tongue will get me ready just nicely for the main course -- Oliver's lovely virile young cock." 

I needed no further invitation, but stepped into the room and went down on my knees with my head between her parted thighs. She smelled divine, a mixture of expensive bath soap, and the perfume that she had dabbed onto her naked mound and around her vulva. I leaned forward and gave her pussy a long lingering kiss. I was close enough to detect the sweet,heavy smell of her vaginal secretions, the nectar on which I had so often feasted. I then licked her pussy from the entrance to her cunt up to her clitoris, which I sucked into my mouth, whilst flicking its tip with my tongue. 

Anne sighed, but then pushed me away. "That's enough, my pussy is now reserved for Oliver. If you are very good I might then let you have dessert later on, after Oliver has filled me with his sperm. From now on, however, until I give you permission to touch, you are only allowed to watch. I will let you stroke your cock -- it will turn me on even more to see how excited you become watching Oliver fuck me for the first time." 

Anne then began to dress in the clothes that she had so carefully selected during the week. First she put on a pair of black lacy French knickers, almost transparent at the front. The legs were quite loose, and as she sat down again I could see all the way up her legs to her naked vulva. Next she rolled a pair of black hold-up stocking with lacy tops up her legs. This was almost as erotic as watching her remove them, and the sight of the bare white skin between her stockings and her knickers was bewitching. I itched to run my hands up her legs, and it took all my self-control to restrain myself. 

"Don't put anything else on for a minute," I said, "I just want to capture this moment. You are so sexy in just knickers and stockings, and I am really envious of Oliver right now." I took a snap with the Polaroid, and continued, "How I wish I was twenty-two again, and about to be taken to paradise by a stunningly beautiful woman." 

Anne did a little twirl, her perfectly shaped breasts bouncing slightly as she moved. My erect cock strained against my jeans, and I ached to bend her over the bed and drive it deep into her wanton pussy. But, tonight she belonged to Oliver, and I would have to wait until the weekend was over before she would return to my arms. In the meantime, she wanted him to fuck her over and over again, and I knew that in her ecstasy she would forget all about me for a while, as they journeyed together through a land of extreme sexual pleasure. 

It was nearly time for Oliver to arrive, and Anne quickly put on the rest of her clothes -- a half cup brassiere that left her nipples exposed, a semi-transparent black blouse with deep frilly collar that continued down the front, and a black leather mini-skirt that ended an inch or two above her stocking tops. When she bent over to out on her dress shoes, her knickers were clearly visible. 

Anne walked over to me, and putting her hand on the front of my jeans, gave my rampant cock a squeeze. "Poor Bill," she said, "All dressed up and nowhere to go. We will have to do something about that later on, or you will burst. I think a nice hand job might be in order, but you will have to wear a condom. The only spunk that is going be allowed near my body tonight will be Oliver's, and I expect him to come in all my holes, and anoint my flesh with his seed -- breasts, bottom, pussy, and all." 

As we walked down the stairs it was just seven o'clock; time for Oliver to arrive. There was a lump in my throat as I thought about what was about to take place, but Anne was calm, her excitement contained, as she made her final preparations for her young lover, putting a dab of perfume behind each ear, at the base of her throat and between her breasts. She was ready for love! 

When the doorbell went, Anne walked slowly to the door and opened it to allow Oliver to enter. He looked nervous, and stuttered a greeting, but Anne pulled his face down to hers and gave him the first of many kisses that night. 

"My darling boy, come and make yourself comfortable in the sitting room," she said, "Bill will fix you a stiff drink to settle your nerves, and get you in the mood. I want you to be totally relaxed, so that you can enjoy the show that I am going to put on for you." Turning to me she continued, "I will have a small dry martini, thank-you my dear, and when you have done that, turn the lights down low, and put something nice and smoochy on the CD player. Oliver and I are going to dance a little." 

When I had fixed their drinks, I poured a rather large glass of single malt for myself, turned the dimmer switch down, and went round the room lighting the scented candles that Anne had placed there earlier in the day. I then put a CD of Jack Jones in the player, adjusted the volume to a comfortable level, and settled myself deep in my favourite armchair, from where I would be able to watch Anne and Oliver as they danced. 

Anne stood in the middle of the floor, and swayed her body seductively. As she did so, she undid the buttons of her blouse, looking Oliver in the eyes, and then beckoned to him to join her. Her got up and stood in front of her a little awkwardly. She put her arms around him, her hands stroking from his shoulders and down his back to rest on his bottom. Resting her head on his shoulder she started to sway in time to the music. Oliver had no choice but to follow her movements, and very soon they were moving in harmony, their bodies pressed close together. 




A Favour for a Friend



Anne lifted her head, and looking him in the eyes, murmured in a seductive voice, "Kiss me Oliver; I want to be kissed; kiss me like you do all the other girls you have seduced." Of course, Anne was aware that Oliver was relatively inexperienced, but she also knew that treating him like a practiced lady-killer would boost his self-confidence and make him a much better lover. 

Soon it wasn't only their bodies that were dancing, as they kissed with increasing passion and urgency. Their tongues flicked in and out of each other's mouths, from time to time entwining in a frenzy of sexual desire. The vision before me of these two beautiful people, totally absorbed in each other, struck me as being both extremely romantic, and at the same time, deeply arousing. I reached for the Polaroid, which I had brought down from the bedroom and put on a side table, and took the first of many pictures that evening. Oliver had his arms around Anne, but appeared a little shy at putting them where his instincts must surely have been telling him to do. To give him encouragement to explore the delights of her body more daringly, she reached behind her and holding his right hand moved it down until it rested on her leather-clad bottom.

Oliver soon got the message, and like any red-blooded male, now he had been given the go-ahead, felt emboldened to go further. As they continued to sway in time with the music, I watched as he moved his hand down from her bottom to feel the bare flesh at the tops of her thighs, and then up under her skirt to caress her bottom. His hand was hidden from my excited gaze, but I was sure that he had his hand inside her French knickers, which were designed to give easy access to the delights of the naked flesh beneath. After three or four songs, Anne pulled away from Oliver, and ran her eyes up and down his body in a blatantly seductive way. His penis was quite clearly erect, straining at the constraints of his clothes.

Anne began to stroke the bulge in his trousers. "Mmm," she murmured, "That feels nice. I am looking forward to getting better acquainted with it very soon. But first let's dance a bit more, it's getting me really turned on, and I'm getting very wet between my legs."

She then moved close to him, so that her back was pressed against his chest, and as she turned her head to kiss him again, she said, "It would be very nice if you would put your hands inside my blouse. My breasts are dying for some attention." 

It soon became obvious to me from the way Anne was undulating her pelvis, and thrusting her bottom back into Oliver's groin that she would like his hands somewhere else as well. Her skirt, although short, made access more difficult from the front, and as Anne had her hands behind Oliver so that she could caress his bottom, I got up to help. I undid the zip at the side of her skirt, and gently pulled it over her hips so that it could fall at her feet. Anne gave me a grateful smile, and blew me a kiss, as she kicked the it to one side. Her blouse was now fully open at the front, revealing the smooth flesh of her tummy with its delicious little belly button. I knew she loved to have it licked, and I wondered if Oliver would find that out later on. Oliver had pushed the cups of her bra down, in order to get unobstructed access to her breasts, and he was alternately stroking them and pinching her erect nipples.

With her skirt removed, Oliver did not need any further prompting, but moved his hand down her tummy and under the waistband of her knickers, which made her squirm with pleasure. They continued to kiss, with their eyes closed, as they concentrated on the sensual feelings that were flooding their bodies. As their excitement mounted further, they began to breath heavily, and I knew, with a mixture of arousal and anxiety, that it would not be long before I would be watching my wife being fucked by a young and virile stud. 

Anne turned in Oliver's arms, and started to undo the buttons of his shirt, followed by the fastening of his trousers. She knelt to pull his trousers off, and as she did so leaned forward to kiss the head of his cock through the material of his briefs. She stood up and pushed him back onto the settee, and as he sat down she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his briefs and pulled them off in one movement. His cock sprang free, and she stroked it gently, licking her lips with desire. It was not overly large, probably a little above average length, but quite slim, as is often the case with younger men. It also had a distinct upwards curve -- the kind of cock that is best for finding a woman's G-spot. Oliver had also been circumcised as a baby, and the remains of his foreskin was rumpled up behind the glans, which shone in the candlelight. 

"Oooh, that's lovely," Anne cooed, "In a minute or two I am going to give it some really special attention, but to begin with I am going to dance for you again to really turn you on. You just sit there and enjoy it -- you can stroke your penis a bit if you like; I will enjoy watching that, but don't come yet." 

With that she stepped back, and sexily slipped off her blouse. Her bra followed, and she stood there in front of Oliver, slowly undulating her hips, her red-gold locks cascading over her shoulders. She started to give Oliver a sexy little dance that made him groan with excitement. After a minute or two of teasing, she knelt between his legs and started to caress his cock with her breasts, rubbing the nipples up and down the shaft, and over the glans. A little bead of liquid had formed at its tip, and she bent forward and very delicately licked it up, before taking the head in her mouth, her lips closed around that acutely sensitive spot just behind the glans. She put one hand around the shaft and began to move it up and down very slowly, whilst she cupped his heavy balls with the other.

Whilst this was going on, I was taking pictures with the Polaroid, some for Oliver as a memento, and the rest for us to treasure as a record of a very special evening. I had never watched anything so erotic, and I knew that later that night I would be masturbating over them in the spare room, whilst Anne and Oliver were busy fucking in our bed. 

Anne stopped what she was doing for a moment, and whispered to Oliver so quietly that I had to strain to hear what she said. "I am going to titty-fuck you now, until you are on the verge of your orgasm, and then I am going to finish you off with a wonderful blow job. You don't have to do anything, just lie back and enjoy. Once you have come for the first time, you will be able to keep going for much longer when you are fucking me, which will allow us both to reach greater heights of pleasure together." 

It wasn't very long before Oliver stiffened and thrust his pelvis up against Anne's mouth, lifting his buttocks right off the settee. His cock jerked, as he pumped spurt after spurt of his come into her mouth. There was so much that it leaked out of the corners and down her chin, and as she sat back, several large drops fell onto her breasts. "Yummy," she said, "You do taste nice, I hope I will be able to have more of that later tonight, but not till after you have come in my pussy and rectum." 

She used a finger to mop up the semen on her chin, and then adding it to the drops that had already fallen on her breasts, began to massage it into her soft flesh. When she was satisfied, she stood up and, looking Oliver deep into his eyes slipped her hand into the waste-band of her knickers and down over her pussy. Even though the light was dim, Oliver could clearly see that she was her rubbing her clitoris. The lewdness of her blatant sexuality, as she then pushed two fingers into her cunt, had its desired effect, and his limp cock started to stiffen and grow again.

She pulled her fingers out and put them into his open mouth for him to suck. "It is your turn to taste me" she said, "This is my nectar, and it is flowing just for you. See how sweet it is. It is the food of the gods, and you are my young god, and you are going to carry me off to the Elysian Fields, where we will find eternal bliss. It's almost time to embark on our journey, but first I want you to feast your eyes on my pussy, and sample its tender delights with your fingers and tongue." 

She stepped back and slowly slid her knickers off, undulating her hips as she slid them down her legs. Parting her legs, she gently stroked the pussy, and then lewdly pulled her labia apart to show Oliver the pink flesh at its heart. She pushed her groin forwards, and sliding two fingers into her cunt, began to slowly fuck herself. "Touch me Oliver, please touch me. Put your fingers into me. I want to feel your fingers fucking me," she begged. 

Oliver stretched his hand out and put it between her legs, thrusting two fingers into her gaping cunt. "Not so roughly Oliver," she said, "A woman's pussy is like a delicate flower. Treat it roughly and you can hurt it, but if you are tender and gentle it will blossom in you hands." She paused for a moment, "Oh, that's better. Ooh, that's lovely, just like that. Oooh, keep doing that. Oooooh, I'm nearly there. Oh, Oh, Oh, Oooh." She pushed her pussy hard against Oliver's hand, his fingers slipping deeper into her velvety depths, and a look of rapture crossed her face as she had her first orgasm of the evening.

"That was wonderful," she said, "But now I really need to feel you cock inside me, and to feel you spurt your come deep into my cunt." 

She got onto the settee, and straddled Oliver's thighs. Lowering herself down until his cock was nestled between the folds of her pussy, she leaned forward so that her breasts were lightly touching his chest. Then she started to slide backwards and forwards along the length of his cock, rubbing her nipples against his body. She put one hand back to fondle his balls, whilst she gently stroked his face and lips with the other, before gently dipping her face down to his. With one arm around her waist, Oliver cupped her bottom, gently pressing his middle finger against her puckered anus.

They kept this up for several minutes, both of them savouring the sensations spreading from their genitals, until Anne lifted herself up, and taking hold of Oliver's cock held it against the entrance to her cunt. His cock and balls glistened with a liberal coating of Anne's secretions, whilst her labia were fully engorged, ready for their coupling. 

Anne stopped for a moment and said, "Oliver, I want you to look me in the eyes as I lower myself onto you. We are about to become one flesh, and through the union of our bodies there will also be a union of our souls. This is a sacred moment, and what we are about to do can never be undone." 

It was then that I fully realised that this meant something very different for Anne than it had with all the other men from amongst our circle whom she had fucked. Apart from me, she had never suggested that fucking had a spiritual meaning. Oliver was about to truly become her lover. 

With their eyes locked together in deepest concentration, Anne slowly impaled herself on Oliver's cock until every inch was inside her, the cheeks of her bottom resting on his thighs and balls. They paused for a moment, and it looked to me as if they were truly fused into one. They both sighed in unison, and then began to fuck, slowly at first, but with a steadily increasing tempo. Soon Anne was squealing with pleasure, occasionally shouting Oliver's name, whilst Oliver cried out repeatedly, "Oh, Anne. Oh Anne." As she rode him, Anne rocked her pelvis back and forth, the cheeks of her bottom clenching as she massaged Oliver's shaft with her vaginal muscles. The eroticism of the sight was too much for me, and unbuckling my jeans I took out my rock-hard cock and started to masturbate myself in time with their thrusts. 

Their orgasms came simultaneously, as with a shout they thrust hard against each other, Oliver's balls contracting as he pumped spurt after spurt of his seed deep into Anne's cunt. Their climaxes seemed to go on forever, as they floated in a timeless place of exquisite sensations and mutual pleasure. Finally they relaxed, and Anne slumped down onto Oliver's chest. As she laid her head on his shoulder, I heard her whisper, "I love you, Oliver. I love you, my darling boy. I love you, and I am never going to let you go." 

They remained there in a state of post-coital bliss and exhaustion for many minutes, Oliver's now softening cock still embedded in Anne's cunt. Eventually, however, Anne slipped off, and lay by his side, their combined juices streaming out of her cunt down past her anus and onto the leather of the settee beneath. She opened her eyes and looked over at me. "That was wonderful," she said. "That was a truly heavenly experience. I am so glad that you let me take Oliver as a lover." 

She then looked down at my throbbing cock, the head almost purple. "Oh, poor Bill. Look Oliver, look how excited he is. We really must do something about that." Turning back to me, she went on, "Come over here my darling, and I will give you a nice blow job. But put a condom on first, I only want Oliver's come on me or inside me this weekend. Then, after you have had your climax, you can show Oliver how to make love to a woman's pussy with your lips and tongue." Turning back to Oliver, she went on, "You know Oliver, Bill really is the world's expert at satisfying a woman that way, and if you learn well from him you will be able to make many women very happy." 

After Anne had given me a most wonderful orgasm, I did as she had asked, sucking and licking her until she had her third orgasm of the evening. The taste of their combined juices was not unpleasant, a mixture of sweet and salty, a bit like melon with salt sprinkled on it, which as some people know, is the best way to bring out the flavour of melon. 

After discarding the used condom, I adjusted my jeans, and went out to the kitchen to prepare a light supper of smoked salmon with red onion, cream cheese and hot buttered crumpets. In the USA they serve smoked salmon with bagels, but I have always found these rather bland, and crumpets or muffins are more typically English. Anne and Oliver went upstairs to bathe each other, before getting ready for bed. From the evidence of Anne's shouts of ecstasy and joy which echoed down the stairs, they fucked again in the bathroom, and although I didn't want to intrude on their intimacy, I found it very arousing to imagine Anne bent down with her hands on the edge of the bath whilst Oliver pounded her from behind. 

After a decent interval, I took their supper up, along with three glasses of champagne, two mugs, and a vacuum flask containing hot chocolate to sustain them during the night. I found them sitting up in our bed, both naked, with the duvet covering their lower halves. It was obvious that Oliver had his hand on Anne's pussy, and she had a look on her face of utter contentment. Giving them their glasses of champagne, and raising mine, I proposed a toast, "To Oliver, and his coming of age." I then turned down the lights, and left them to continue their lovemaking in private, although I left the door to the room open as Anne had requested. 

I then went into my office to finish reading the Sunday papers, with a nice cigar and a glass of particularly fine single malt. I felt strangely drained and also a little anxious, but at the same time I was happy that Oliver was able to give Anne so much pleasure.

After about an hour I went up to my bed in the spare room, but found it difficult to fall asleep. This was partly because of the sounds of lovemaking emanating from the bedroom opposite, Anne's soprano cries contrasting with Oliver's baritone, as they made sweet music together. The real problem, however, was that in that strange hinterland where I was neither awake nor asleep, my anxieties rose to the surface.

In the past three years, when Anne and I had swapped partners with our friends, and even when we had stayed overnight, we were both enjoying sex, and there was no reason for jealousy. But this night I was on my own in the spare room, unable to avoid the sound of Anne fucking a much younger man in our marriage bed. This made me a cuckold, and I felt a curious mixture of envy and humiliation. I also recognised that this was something different from anything that had ever happened before. Anne was no longer acting out of lust, but was genuinely falling in love with Oliver, and I was concerned about the effect this was going to have on our future relationship. I didn't think Anne would leave me, but I did wonder whether she would ever again be satisfied with me as a lover. 

I tossed and turned, eventually falling into a fitful sleep, but at about dawn, as the light was creeping in through the curtains, I was awakened by screams of pleasure coming from our bedroom. Unable to stop myself, I got out of bed and walked across the landing to look in through the door, drawn by some deep voyeuristic urge to watch Anne and Oliver as they fucked each other silly. What I saw was more arousing and more beautiful than even the best pornographic films. Oliver was fucking Anne doggy fashion, thrusting his cock deep into her cunt, whilst she was frigging her clitoris for all she was worth, and crying out incoherently at the top of her voice. I watched until they climaxed, paroxysms of intense sensation making their bodies shake, before they collapsed forwards onto the bed, totally exhausted. 

I went back to bed, and eventually fell asleep, as lurid dreams of naked young men and women, fucking in all sorts of combinations, flickered across my fevered imagination.

*****

The following morning I woke up at about half past eight, feeling oddly refreshed, but still highly sexually excited by what I had heard and seen since Oliver arrived at our front door. 

Getting out of my single bed I walked out onto the landing and through the open door into our bedroom. I crossed to the window on tiptoe to avoid disturbing the sleeping lovers on our king size double bed. Opening the curtains to allow the morning sunshine into the room I was rewarded by one of the most ravishingly beautiful sites I had ever seen. My heart skipped a beat and I felt a languorous feeling in my groin, as if my cock and balls were about to melt with arousal and desire. 

Oliver and my wife were cuddled together on the bed, totally naked, the duvet pushed to one side. 

They were both still fast asleep, their mutual passion for the moment satisfied as they rested from the exertions of the night just gone. The light from the window surrounded them in a golden haze, their bodies seeming to glow in its warmth. Oliver's limbs were firm and well muscled like those of a Greek hero. Anne's body was soft and rounded like a ripe soft peach, designed by nature to be worshipped and adored. 

Anne lay on her back, her eyes closed with a blissful expression of deep contentment on her face. One hand held Oliver's head to her breast, the other gently rested against his left buttock as he lay on his side next to her, his right hand nestling between her parted thighs. Still moving quietly, I crossed to the dressing table where I had left my Polaroid the night before, and quickly took a couple of pictures to record the idyllic scene for posterity. 

Leaving the room I went down to the kitchen where I made a pot of tea for myself, put some croissants in the microwave, and prepared the coffee maker ready for the lovers when they awoke. A few minutes later, whilst I was seated at the kitchen table enjoying my first cup of tea of the day. Anne came into the kitchen clad in only in a light robe tied loosely at the front, which did little to hide her loveliness from my eyes. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she leaned across the table and kissed me gently on the lips. Her breasts fell free of her gown, and I could see that they were covered in love-bites, evidence of her night of passion. 




A Favour for a Friend



"Thank-you, my darling," she murmured, "for letting me have Oliver, it was one of the most magical experiences of my life, and he was a most amazing lover -- it is so wonderful to be the object of worship, I feel like a goddess this morning."

"You are a goddess to me," I replied with a smile in my voice, "a goddess of love, whom men should worship and adore as you receive their cocks into your body to make an offering of their seed. I love you so much, and to see you as happy and fulfilled as you are this morning fills my heart with joy."

"Oliver has such stamina," she marvelled. "He fucked me five times during the night and I don't believe his cock softened at all until we finally fell asleep. The last time he was able to go on for ages before he climaxed, and I had several exquisite orgasms as he thrust in and out of my cunt." 

She lowered her voice to a whisper, "I also showed him how to fuck me in my anus, which was something he had never experienced before. He told me that it was almost better than in my pussy."

I put my hands out to feel her breasts, letting their weight rest softly on my palms and I returned her kiss, our lips parting as our tongues danced together in a moment of gentle communion. As we kissed, Oliver appeared in the doorway and paused. He was naked and seemed uncertain whether to enter, perhaps a little embarrassed. It was certainly an unusual situation and something for which his education and upbringing had ill prepared him -- open marriage being quite definitely not part of the curriculum when it came to sex education. 

"Come in Oliver," I called out, "Come in and feast your eyes on the sight of this beautiful woman. Your night of passion has made her even more ravishing. I think that you will have to fuck her on a regular basis, it's better than a course of treatment at the beauty parlor."

"Thank-you, Professor Peters," he mumbled, and then more confidently, "And thank-you so much for permitting me to have such a wonderful night with Mrs Peters. I mean, Anne. It was just out of this world, and something I will remember as long as I live. Anne is the most beautiful woman I have ever known; I could suck her breasts forever, and I loved the look and feel of her exquisite pussy, it really is like an exotic and beautiful flower. Most of all, it felt so amazing every time she let me enter her cunt; it felt as if I became a part of her, and I have never experienced such mind-blowing orgasms. We did a bit of philosophy at university, but I really didn't know that sex could be so spiritual."

He paused for a moment, and then continued, "I am not sure that my friends or their parents would quite understand, but my mother did try to explain. However, it is only now that you have allowed me to enjoy the ultimate intimacy with Anne, that I fully understand myself. I suppose it must take a special kind of couple to make it work - people like you. Before tonight I would not have believed that it is possible to take pleasure yourself when the person you love is receiving sexual pleasure from somebody else. Thank-you again for letting me share such an amazing night of passion with Anne. I never thought that I could enjoy making love so much; it was the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I hope you will allow me to fuck her again."

"Wow, that was quite a speech," I replied, and laughed. "You really must call me Bill. We are related now in some strange fashion through our union with Anne. I see her is a goddess of love, and we poor mortals can only worship her, and leave our grateful offerings on the altar of her vagina. Last night Anne gave you her heart, and I believe that her love for you will soon be as strong as it is for me. Many other men have enjoyed her body, but she has only ever offered her heart to you and me. I am happy to share her with you from now on, because I know that you have made her happier than she has ever been before."

I took a sip of my tea. "Now come over here Oliver, and give my wife the loving she deserves -- I am sure that she would appreciate some more attention from your splendid young cock before you go back home to your parents."

Standing up, I moved over to Anne, who was leaning against the table, and slipped off her robe to prepare her once more for Oliver's embrace. I watched as he took her in his arms, warm flesh against warm flesh. Forgetting me, Anne reached down between his legs to caress his cock, that wonderful object of her desire, eager to make it hard and erect again, so that it was ready once more to penetrate the very heart of her being. 

Still holding his cock, Anne turned, and putting her arms on the table, she leaned forward and spoke softly and lovingly, "My darling Oliver, I do so love you. Put your beautiful cock into me and fuck me again; I need you inside me; I need you to take me to back to the land of bliss where only you and I exist. Oh fuck me hard and harder, my darling lover!"

From where I stood I could see that Anne's pussy was soaked in her juices which were flowing so freely that they were starting to run down the insides of her thighs. The inner lips of her pussy were enlarged and parted, disclosing the entrance to her cunt, which was already open and waiting for Oliver's cock to enter and penetrate its dark velvety depths. I watched, enthralled, as Oliver gently stroked the head of his cock along the length of her pussy. When it was coated in her nectar, he thrust it deep inside her, until they became one flesh once more. 

"Oh Oliver," Anne sighed, "That is heavenly, my angel. You fill me so completely it feels as if your cock is going to pierce my heart."

As they fucked in front of me, oblivious to my presence, there were no more words. All that could be heard were the sound of Oliver's balls slapping hard against Anne's clitoris at the end of each stroke of his cock, and their moans of pleasure, as their senses were flooded with indescribably sweet sensations. 

Many people would think it is a perversion to enjoy watching two people in such an intimate and private act, but what was taking place in front of my eyes was a vision of such beauty that to be a part of it, even as an observer, was to become joined in some mystical way with the two lovers. I felt that I was watching a sacred act of consummation as they gave themselves utterly to each other in the ultimate articulation of mutual love. 

I sat down facing Anne so that I could watch her face and experience her rapture through the expressions passing across her beautiful features as she mounted towards her climax. She had pushed herself up on her hands so that she could push backwards against Oliver each time he thrust deeply into her, almost as if through the energy of their passion they could become truly fused into one. 

Then something happened that I had never seen before. A sudden, violent convulsion shook Anne's whole body, and she jerked upwards hard against Oliver's chest, her head thrown back to rest on his shoulder. Her eyes were closed, and from her mouth came a series of unearthly high-pitched shrieks, as she was utterly consumed by her orgasm. Her rapture triggered an equally violent climax in Oliver, who thrust up so hard that Anne's feet were lifted off the floor. For a moment the lovers were wracked by spasms of extreme pleasure that pulsed through their conjoined bodies in a mutual climax of an intensity I had never witnessed before. In his moment of ecstasy, Oliver opened wide his mouth, and let out a bellow of triumph, like a prize bull. 

As their orgasms subsided, their bodies began to relax. Anne was almost unconscious and her muscles became so limp that Oliver was forced to hold onto her tightly to prevent her falling to the floor. I stood up to help him get her onto a chair and as his cock slipped out of her body, a stream of semen and her secretions poured down her leg onto the floor. Her eyes were still shut, but there was look of such utter serenity on her face that my heart was moved with love. It had been an extraordinary privilege to witness the beauty of their mating. 

"Oliver," I said, "I must thank you for giving my wife such indescribable pleasure. Carry her upstairs now to the bathroom and gently wash every part of her body with love and tenderness. Then take her back to bed and hold her in your arms until she falls asleep. You have a few more hours before you need to go back home."

I went through to my office, made myself comfortable on the settee and opening my dressing gown, started to fondle my rock hard cock and aching balls. I was so aroused by the amazing and wonderful act of sex and love that I had just witnessed, I knew that it would not take me long to reach my own orgasm. However, just as I was about to start stroking myself, the doorbell rang. Covering myself up, I went to the front door, and opened it to find Ellen standing on the doorstep, looking particularly sexy in a tight tee shirt and mini skirt. She was obviously not wearing a bra, and I hoped that she didn't have any panties either. 

She stepped into the hall, firmly closing the front door behind her, and looking down at my obvious erection, said, "Somebody appears to be very pleased to see me. I think we have to do something about that." 

It was an old cliche, I know, but that was typical of our light-hearted relationship. We enjoyed having uninhibited sex and giving each other mutual pleasure, but we knew that there was no emotional commitment other than friendship, and that there would never be any threat to our marriages. 

I suggested that we made ourselves comfortable in my office and once we were inside I found that my suspicions were correct when Ellen leaned forward to plump up the pillows on the settee, giving me a close up view of the delights barely concealed beneath her skirt. Ellen had firm, well-rounded buttocks, testament to the hours she spent in the gym, which framed the plump outer lips of her pussy, nestling at the top of her shapely thighs, her inner lips and clitoris just peeking through. 

"Like what you see big boy," she said in a deliberately husky voice. 

Parting her thighs to reveal more of the hidden depths of her cunt, she went on, "You haven't said 'Hello' properly yet. Come and give me a big kiss to show me how happy you are to see me."

Unable to resist such an invitation, I got down on my knees behind her and leaning forwards, planted a sloppy kiss on her vulva, savouring the scent of her rich, ripe womanhood. 

"That's nice," she sighed, "Why don't you lick me a little with that wicked tongue of yours. Just a little mind, I can hardly wait to feel your cock inside me, and I think you need some relief pretty soon before your balls burst. When we are done, you can tell me all about Oliver and your naughty wife. I am dying to hear all about it and I have been wet all night just thinking about them together."

I pushed her over the arm of the settee, and sliding one hand beneath the hem of her tee shirt to fondle her ample breasts. I took her doggy fashion, the palm of my right hand rubbing against her clitoris. We quickly got into a rhythm as we fucked vigorously and within minutes we began to come together in a mutual climax of raw intensity. 

The first time I had fucked Ellen I discovered that she had unusually good control over her vaginal muscles and as she sensed the onset of my orgasm she began to squeeze my cock, rhythmical contractions running up her cunt, massaging my shaft from base to the tip. The sensations were exquisite and when I came, I pumped what seemed like gallons of my seed deep into her velvety depths. 

Our passion for the moment spent, I went to fetch us both a cup of coffee and we cuddled on the settee, covered in a light blanket to keep us warm as the sweat from our exertions began to dry. I told her in graphic detail everything that had happened since Oliver had rung our doorbell the previous evening. 

Of course, as I described Anne and Oliver's lovemaking, trying my best to put into words the heights of rapture I had seen in their faces and the beautiful way their bodies moved together as one, we both became very horny again. When I had finished, Ellen straddled my hips, put the head of my penis into the entrance to her vagina and slowly inched her way down until the cheeks of her bottom were resting on my thighs. I let her control the pace and just enjoyed the sensations as she rode me, up and down, slowly at first, then gradually increasing in tempo, her breasts bouncing up and down in time with the movement of her hips. 

It took us longer to reach our climax this second time around, but we had fucked regularly over the past three years, learning everything there was to know about each our responses, so that we felt instinctively when the other was approaching their orgasm We came at the same time; not an earth-shattering climax, but something that suffused our whole bodies with warmth and contentment, and left us both feeling fulfilled and happy. 

Once we had come down sufficiently from our high, Ellen got up and dressed, putting on a pair of knickers to prevent out combined juices running down her legs on the walk home. 

After giving me a firm but lingering kiss, she let herself out of the front door, calling out as she left, "I am off to finish my preparations for the hero's home-coming dinner. Tell him not to be any later than half past one, and if he won't stir himself, just boot him out the door, naked if necessary."

After I had showered and dressed, it was nearly one o'clock. 

After knocking quietly, I poked my head around our bedroom door and passed on his mother's message to Oliver. I then went down stairs to prepare a light lunch, followed a few minutes later by Oliver. 

"Thank you Professor Peters, I mean Bill," he said. "You are very wonderful people and I hope that when I find a woman who is willing to share the rest of my life, I will be lucky enough to have a relationship as loving and open as yours and Anne's. I feel so much happier now than when I came home from Bristol, and I think I am ready for my new life in London, all thanks to you."

Once Oliver had gone, I checked on Anne, and finding that she was still sound asleep, went out into the garden with my lunch, a glass of wine and the Sunday papers. The combination of food and wine, not to mention the physical and emotional exertions of the past few hours, meant that I didn't do much reading, but just dozed in my lounger in the warm summer sunshine, lulled by the sound of the birds and bees. 

When Anne finally woke at about eight o'clock that evening, she was absolutely ravenous. 

I fixed us both a big Spanish omelette which I served with several slices of bread liberally coated in butter and accompanied by a large mug of hot sweet tea; just the things to revive a well-fucked woman! 

I followed up with a large bowl of fresh English strawberries and Devonshire clotted cream, a favourite of ours in the summer -- not very healthy perhaps, but yummy just the same. 

When I had cleared away the empty bowls, I laid down beside Anne on the bed and showed her the Polaroid photographs I had taken of her and Oliver. 

Her favourite was one of her with one hand around the shaft of Oliver's cock, the head in her mouth and the other hand caressing his balls. Mine, on the other hand, was one showing her straddling Oliver's thighs, most of his cock embedded in her cunt, his shaft shining with her juices. 

After a while I asked her what they had done after Oliver had carried her upstairs again that morning. 

"It was lovely," she replied, "Oliver was so tender and caring. He laid me on the bed whilst he ran a bath, then he lowered me into the water and began to wash all of my body from my head to my feet. After he had rinsed me off he gently caressed me all over. It was so erotic as he first cupped my breasts in his hands, and then tenderly parted the folds of my pussy to explore its most intimate depths with his fingers."

Her description of the tender way Oliver had caressed her body with his hands was so moving thatI wished I could have been there to witness this moment for myself. This was no longer simply lust, but evidence of the growing love I had already witnessed between these two beautiful people. 

I said nothing, but just stroked Anne's hair as she continued. "After he had bathed me, Oliver lifted me out of the bath, dried me, and carried me back through to the bedroom where laid me on the bed. He then showered me in little kisses all over, from my toes to my hair. He paid special attention to my breasts, licking and sucking my nipples, which sent little shocks of electricity down into my pussy, before kissing my pussy and running his tongue from my cunt to my clitoris. Then he got into bed and cuddled up behind me under the duvet, one hand cradling my breast and the other resting on my naked mound. From time to time he would gently stroke my vulva and clitoris, sending little ripples of pleasure up into my body, and making me feel all warm and fluttery inside." 

She paused for a moment, then went on, "When he was hard, Oliver entered me again, and we lay for a while, hardly moving, but just floating in a sea of bliss, before he started to fuck me slowly and sensuously. When he finally came it felt as if we were melting into each other as he seemed to totally fill my whole body. It was not at all like my earlier orgasms, but it absolutely wonderful just the same."

For some time neither of us said anything. Anne was lost in a reverie as she remembered the wonder of her recent lovemaking, whilst I pondered on what she had said, and tried to understand what it might mean for us, and our future. 

Finally I spoke, "I am so glad that Oliver was able to make you so happy and that you were able to share such heights of pleasure. When I watched you together I knew if you were falling in love with him, and I am happy for you both, but I must ask what this means for us."

"Oh, I still love you my darling, and you will always be number one in my heart; it is just different with Oliver. My lovemaking with Oliver will probably always be more urgent and intense, but you are one with whom I wish to spend the rest of my life, although I will want to see him from time to time." She giggled, "Would you like to fuck me now, I am still full of Oliver's come, but I know how much you like to take me after someone else has had his wicked way."

"Not tonight, my love," I replied, "Ellen kindly took pity on me earlier today, and whilst you were fucking Oliver for the final time, we had a fairly torrid session on the settee in the office. She really is a damn good fuck, and I had two orgasms in pretty quick succession, so I am not sure I would be able to come again so soon. Anyway, this weekend you belong to Oliver. Tomorrow will be different, and after giving you a nice massage with that expensive body lotion you bought in France, I am going to lick your pussy until you squeal, and fuck you until you cry for mercy."

"Oooh, you make me shiver in anticipation; I do so like to be at the mercy of a strong dominant man," she said in a little girly voice, "Just thinking about it makes my tummy turn over, and my pussy tingle. Why don't you switch the lights out and get into bed with me; it will soon be morning, and you can fuck me silly "

As it was vacation time, I was able to take the morning off from the university -- being a professor has some advantages -- and we spent most of the time in bed, except for a brief interlude to grab coffee and croissants. Anne was insatiable -- I came inside her twice, but I almost lost count of the number of orgasms she had. To keep her satisfied, as well as my cock, I used fingers, tongue, teeth and a selection of her favourite toys. Her most spectacular climax was with a butt plug in her anus, and using her favourite black dildo, which could be made to ejaculate water at the critical point. She came so violently that only shoulders and her heels were in contact with the bed, as violent spasms wracked her body. 




A Favour for a Friend



In the end I fell back exhausted. "My God woman," I gasped, "What has got into you this morning, I can hardly keep up with you?"

"I don't know," she replied, "Ever since I met Oliver, I have just felt so horny. My body just seems to want more and more."

I thought for a while, "You know, I have a theory that your body wants to make a baby with Oliver. You are still young enough, and if you recall, we seriously thought about it some years ago when we were much less well off than now, so it wouldn't be a problem financially. Gemma and Nicola would love to have a baby brother or sister to play with, and I think that I can cope with the idea of bringing up somebody else's child as my own. "

"You are so kind and generous," she said with a sigh, "That would be so wonderful, and I would love to have something to permanently remind me of Oliver. But, I worry about you. Wouldn't you feel humiliated if someone else made me pregnant? "

"I actually thought about it yesterday afternoon," I replied, "And I am pretty certain that I wouldn't have a problem as long as I was sure that you still loved me, and weren't going to leave me."

"Bill, my love, I will never leave you. It is nice to have two special lovers, and especially flattering that one of them is only just over half my age. But Oliver will find a nice girl his own age one day, and fall in love, and hopefully marry and have children with her. When he does I will have to take a back seat, which is as it should be. For the time being, however, I will continue to enjoy both of you in your different ways, because you both give me great pleasure and make me happy and fulfilled. The other men I fuck are just a bit of fun, exciting in their own way, but the two of you will always be more special, and sex with you is on a completely different level."

"Thank-you my dearest, it is nice to be reassured. However, talking about babies, it would be wrong of you to allow yourself to become pregnant without Oliver's complete agreement. It would be an even more momentous step for him to take than for us. David will be away this week, and I have agreed to go around to Ellen's on Thursday to help Oliver pack all his stuff into a hire van, and then to drive him down to London to his new flat on Friday. Why don't you come with me, and when we are finished, you and Oliver can have a nice little intimate tete-a-tete, whilst Ellen and I have a bit of fun. I am sure Oliver would like a farewell fuck -- it might be nice to have a rendezvous in the little summerhouse at the end of the garden. I can t think of anywhere more idyllic, with its view over the lake to the hills." 

***** 

Epilogue 

This all happened twenty years ago. That Thursday afternoon Anne and Oliver spent a few romantic hours in the summerhouse. Oliver wanted to think about Anne's suggestion, but they agreed that Anne would visit him in London for the weekend about once a month, and that he would let her have his decision by the end of August. Anne stopped taking the pill that weekend, but insisted that anybody with whom she had sex from then on, including me, should use a condom, so that if she conceived it would definitely be Oliver's baby. 

When she returned from her third visit to London at the end of October, Anne looked even more radiant than usual after these visits, and she told me that she was sure she had conceived that weekend. A test six weeks later confirmed it, and by Christmas she was quite obviously pregnant. The pregnancy was not without complications as a result of her age, but at the end of July the following year, almost twelve months to the day after she had made love to Oliver for the first time, she gave birth to a lovely baby girl, weighing just over six pounds, who we named Eleanor. When I registered the birth I gave Oliver as the father, although apart from us, only Oliver, Ellen and David knew the truth. We also asked Oliver to be the godfather in order to cement his bond with Eleanor even more firmly, and to give him a legitimate excuse to visit her at any time. After the baby was born Anne was no longer able to see Oliver as often, but she wrote to him regularly and sent him pictures of his baby daughter so that he could feel totally involved in her upbringing. 

When Eleanor was about two years old, Oliver wrote and asked whether he could bring a girlfriend to see his 'goddaughter'. Although he had been out with a few girls since he had been in London, this was the first time that he had made such a request, which made us think that this time might be more serious. Francine was a delightful young lady whom Oliver had met at the tennis club he had joined the previous summer. She was half French with long dark hair, and a figure and looks that would turn men's heads when they passed her in the street. Oliver brought her to our house one Saturday just before Christmas, and we entertained them both to dinner, accompanied by a bottle of a good French wine followed by brandy. Conversation flowed easily, and by the end of the evening Francine and Anne had started to share those little intimacies that women so delight in, and were well on the way to becoming bosom friends. 

A couple of months later Ellen confided to Anne that she thought that Francine was the one for Oliver, and that she wouldn't be surprised if he popped the question fairly soon. We heard the rest of the story from Oliver himself when he next came for one of his visits to see Eleanor. He told us that he knew that he would have to be totally open and honest with Francine about his 'goddaughter', and the nature of his relationship with Anne, as well as our unusual sexual lifestyle. He said that when he decided to tell her, he was filled with trepidation that this might mean the end of their relationship, and that it took him several stiff drinks and several false starts before he had the courage to do so. However, his fears were totally unfounded, as Francine, like most French people, had a very sophisticated view of sex and relationships, and even went so far as to suggest that she might like to join us one evening soon for a little fun. 

Over the seventeen years that they have been married, we have shared many delightfully naughty evenings and weekends with Oliver and Francine. We swapped for the first time a few weeks before they were due to be married, and went on to share a very unusual combined stag/hen weekend with them just one week before the wedding, when we all went to Paris and stayed in a two bedroomed apartment in Montmartre. After a night out at a high-class strip club, we adjourned to the apartment for a night of delicious fucking, and finally all fell asleep in the same bed, exhausted by our exertions. When we woke in the morning we did it all again, before going out for a celebratory dinner at an expensive restaurant just off the Champs Elysee. Oliver and Francine eventually had three children, all boys. When they were thinking about having their third, Oliver asked me if I would like to be the father. I was extremely flattered, and asked him if he really meant what he had just said. He told me that he and Francine had discussed it at length, and they would really be honoured if I would accept. It took a little while to make Francine pregnant, but eighteen months later my son was born. I decided he should be called Oliver, after his father, but also after one of my heroes, the neurologist Oliver Sachs.

These days, age has started to catch up with me, and I suffer from erectile dysfunction. I can still get an erection and achieve very satisfactory orgasms, but I can no longer keep it up long enough to bring a woman to her climax. However, we still share great sex with Oliver and Francine, and after he has fucked both ladies, I practise my oral skills to their obvious pleasure, and they finally finish me off with a wonderful blowjob. Oliver still has great stamina, and sometimes he manages a second round with our wives, whilst I just watch and enjoy. 

We decided that once Eleanor was old enough we would have to tell her who her true father was, whilst assuring her that we both loved her very much, and that I would never treat her any differently than Gemma and Nicola. At the same time we also told Gemma and Nicola, and also let them in on the secret of our unusual sex life. 

Both girls were in their mid twenties by then, and had found themselves long-term partners, the only twist being that Nicola's was another woman. We had always been very frank and open about sexual matters, and after the initial shock, they both gave us their blessing, and assured us of their continued love for us and for Eleanor. Even better, after a few days to fully assimilate the new facts they had learned about their parents, both expressed an interest in experimenting with this open sexual lifestyle, but that is another story. 

The End



A Favour for Anthony



The swinging scene has changed a lot in recent times but Anthony's contact group remains much the same. For 20 years it seems to have stood still in time. He organises regular get-togethers and he keeps it exclusive. An invitation requires a personal recommendation. Even then, Anthony may want to talk to you himself to decide if you are suitable. Discretion and security are the by-words. If it was any different, I wouldn't be there; it would be just too risky for me.

Despite the exclusivity, there is a nice mix of new faces along with the regulars. The venue is Anthony's house, or to be more accurate, his mansion. I think it costs more to maintain the grounds than I could ever hope to earn, and I have a good position. He has a function room which would be the envy of many 5-star hotels. Then, there are Anthony's private living quarters. They are sumptuous beyond belief but strictly off-limits to guests; off-limits, that is, unless you are invited to participate in one of his special fetish sessions. Most of us regulars have done that at some time or other, but that's another story. 

It was at one of Anthony's parties that Anthony himself took me to one side and made a special request.

'Have you noticed the Oriental couple who are sitting at the bar?' he asked.

'Yes,' I answered. 'Who are they?'

'Let me just say that he is a particular friend,' he replied. 'He's an important business contact, very important. She is his Personal Assistant. His English isn't too good and she translates for him. They come from Hong Kong and are just here for a couple of weeks. Would you like to do me a favour and give them a session at your place this evening? They think you look like Sharon Stone.'

When Anthony asks for a favour it's not something you can decline very easily. Anyway, the couple from Hong Kong had a certain look about them and I'd never done anything with an Oriental guy before. And, that they thought I looked like Sharon Stone was just the right kind of flattery. 

'Well,' I said, 'tell me some more, like what are they expecting?'

'Don't worry,' Anthony said with a smile, 'I wouldn't set you up for anything nasty. Your friend Sandra fucked them last weekend and she said they were very nice. I think if you played with her for a while and then let things take their course, they'd be more than happy. Sandra tells me he's a little under-sized in the trouser department but he gives a good shag.' 

The thing about Anthony is that he has the kind of upper-class accent that can cut glass. He manages to get away with saying things that would sound crude from someone else. 

'So I can assume they are not beginners, can I?' I asked.

'I'm sure they've done a few things,' he smiled, 'but they haven't been with Sharon Stone as yet.' 

'OK,' I said, 'but let me meet them and see for myself.' 

Anthony introduced me to Sig and Lindi and they greeted me with glossy smiles. They were younger than me but then most people are these days. I put her in her late 20's and Sig in his 40's.

Their looks said they might be of Chinese origin and from the cut of Lindi's short black dress and the jewellery around her neck, they weren't short of spending money. She was petite with dark brown eyes, spiky short hair and an overtly sexy mouth. Her sense of style saved her from looking cheap. Sig had well-cut hair, his features were regular and his manner spoke of quiet confidence. He was very cool and very attractive. 

We chatted casually for a while and it seemed that Sig understood more English than he spoke so Lindi did most of the talking for the two of them. Anthony kept a close eye on me and I knew he was checking that I was happy to go along with his proposition. After I'd given him a smile and a nod he didn't wait long to get to business.

'Jill would be happy to entertain you at her apartment,' he said to them. 'I can guarantee that she knows how to look after you.'

'How wonderful,' said Lindi, reaching out a delicate hand to brush my cheek in a gesture of unmistakable intimacy.

I was glad to hear that not only did they have a car but a driver as well. When I spoke to him to give him directions to my place, in case we got separated in the traffic, I got the impression he was as much a bodyguard as a chauffeur. 

I showed Sig and Lindi around the apartment, dimming lights and selecting music as we went. They seemed quite at ease and showed no sense of nervousness which told me that they were well-experienced in such situations. I took them to the bar in the corner of the large living space and wondered who was going to make the first move. I didn't have to wait long. Lindi moved behind me, wrapped her arms around my waist and reached up to kiss me softly on the side of my neck.

'I'm so glad you invited us,' she murmoured. 

I turned to face her and then spoke to Sig who was at the bar behind her. 

'Sig, why don't you fix yourself a drink. Lindi and I need some time to get know each other.'

I put my arms around her and I had the first real sense of her; yielding but firm and exotically perfumed. 

'I want you to myself for a while,' I whispered into her ear. 'And I'm sure Sig won't mind waiting.'

'Sig likes to watch so I'm all yours,' she purred and then she turned and said something to him in Chinese which I assumed was a translation of what we'd said.  

I brushed my lips lightly against hers, then more fully and felt the warmth of her sensuous mouth. Her arms went around my neck and our tongues met, fencing and then dancing together. Our bodies molded themselves into a close embrace and we swayed in rhythm with the music. She felt supple and lithe and giving, and from the way she was moving her hips against me, there was no mistaking her desire. Things were moving fast and the apprehension of discovering her body was getting me hot.  

My hands felt the bare, honey-coloured skin of her shoulders and I eased the stringy straps of her dress down to her elbows. She didn't resist and, one at a time, she freed her arms. I eased down the satiny material and her breasts bounced free; small, high, round and mouth-watering. She pressed them against me and again we kissed, fully and deeply, with growing intensity. 

I had to stoop slightly to get my tongue to her neck and I did it as sexily as I could, throwing out my hip, knowing that Sig would be watching every move. I licked and kissed her, first the delicate hollow of her throat, downwards to the rise of those delicious breasts, downwards through her cleavage and then around and up to a firm nipple. It was a perfect disk of dark coral with the center jutting out, begging to be sucked. I flicked it with the very tip of my tongue and she sighed and shivered. Her hands moved away from my shoulders and she cupped both of her breasts, offering them up to my teasing tongue. 

I looked up at her face and saw the need and the wanting in her eyes and my passion for her took another leap. I covered one of her nipples with all of my mouth and gently sucked until the teat seemed ready to explode. I did the same with her other nipple and then alternated between them, licking and nibbling and sucking. She sighed and gasped and moaned and her hands gripped my shoulders. 

From the corner of my eye, I saw Sig take a step towards us.

'Wait, not yet,' I said to him. 

His eyes met Lindi's and she spoke quickly to him as if to confirm what I'd said. He stepped back and I sighed inwardly with gratitude. I wanted lots more of her for myself before he got involved. 

I took her back into my arms, stroked her face and gradually eased her backwards until we were almost against the panoramic windows.

'Turn around,' I whispered and she did as I asked, so that she was facing the view over the city lights and onwards across the ocean.

I stood behind her with my arms circling her and I kissed the back of her neck through the tendrils of hair. 

'Hold on to the safety rail,' I whispered into her ear, 'and then take a step back.' 

She took hold of the rail but hesitated. I ran my hand down her hip and asked her again to take a step back. She looked over her shoulder at me and I smiled and stroked the swell of her butt, giving it a gentle squeeze. She got my intention, pouted a smile back at me and nodded. 

If you had been at street level and looked up to my apartment window you would have been mesmerised by what you saw: a beautiful young woman with breasts exposed and thrust forward, her back arching and her legs slightly apart, and another woman by her side, plainly visible, stepping out of her dress. 

I licked my way down her back, between her shoulder blades to her waist, and then I sank to my knees behind her. I stroked her ankles and ran my fingertips along the back of her calves and licked at the back of her knees. Because of her position and the heels of her sandals, the tendons in her legs were held taught which added to their wonderful definition. I pulled slightly at one of her ankles and she stepped back further so that the bend of her body was more pronounced. 

My hands ran over her hips and down the outside of her thighs, then back up, taking the skirt of her dress along with them. I was expecting to find the back strap of a thong splitting the cheeks of her ass but instead I discovered black, lacy boy-pants stretched tightly across it. The lower half of each cheek was tantalisingly exposed and I didn't resist the urge to kiss them, causing her to tense and wiggle. 

I slid a hand between her legs and felt the warm, damp gauze of the pants and the outline of her pussy lips. I took hold of the loose hems of the panty legs and worked them over her hips, down her legs and off her pretty little feet. 

She had an incredible figure: rounded thighs hollowed just above the knees and then swelling in smooth curves before flowing back into slinky hips; ass jutting out in two full round globes, a deep cleft between them. She looked a totally sensuous creature and I was sure she was loving every second of her provocative pose.

I knelt beside her, rucking the skirt of her dress around her waist, and I glanced across to Sig. He had stripped down to a pair of black briefs and the bulge of his cock was very obvious. We exchanged smiles and he nodded as if giving me his permission to continue. I ran my hand over the contour of Lindi's bending bottom and pouted salaciously at him. His response was to reach down and pull his dick out over the top of his briefs, happy to be turned-on by the show.

I moved behind her, stripped-off my bra and brushed my breasts against the back of her legs so that only my nipples touched her. I stroked her thighs and ran my hands over the warm silky skin on the inside, working up to her slit and then retreating to tease her some more. Her beautiful, round behind swayed back and forth as if asking for attention so I ran my hands over it. I cupped the cheeks of her ass with the palms of my hands and licked at the top of the channel between them. Little by little, I eased them apart to expose the little bud of her asshole. Gently I licked around it, along the creases at the top of her thighs, getting closer and closer and then moving away. Finally I pressed the tip of my tongue against it and she clenched her buttocks and moaned and arched her back, almost standing up straight. She looked over her shoulder at me with wild eyes and then offered her ass back to receive more. 

To know that I was creating such arousal in her gave me my own rush of pleasure. I was still wearing my g-string and I felt it soaking wet between my legs. 

I worked on Lindi's tight little ass, making her squirm and groan, until she could stand it no longer. She suddenly stood upright and turned to face me, then sank to her knees, threw her arms around my neck and fiercely kissed my mouth. 

'Come on,' she said, her eyes burning with lust, 'finish me off, finish me ...'

She adjusted her position so that she was lying on her back on the rug in front of me with legs spread open. Her pussy was topped with a bush of long, black hair but the plump lips were completely bare. She dropped a hand down and with two fingers she spread herself open to expose the tip of her clit. 

If only I'd had a prick, I'd have fucked her crazy, but then she was probably used to that so a woman's touch would be all the more pleasurable. 

Kneeling between her parted thighs, I bent over her and licked around her belly-button and then downwards where I discovered the silkiest hair that I'd ever felt on a woman's body. I couldn't help but pause to tangle it in my fingers because it was such an utterly erotic sensation. Her hips pushed up at me, urging me to use her and she was massaging her breasts, plucking at the nipples. 

'Don't make me wait,' she gasped, 'do it now.'

But then Sig joined us. He was naked and his prick was standing upright. He knelt behind Lindi's head, removed her hands from her breasts and stretched her arms back, towards him.

'Do slow,' he said to me in his broken English. 

'Oh no, please ...' Lindi cried, but Sig just smiled and shook his head at her.

'Do slow,' he said to me again. 'You see.' 

I wasn't sure if he was being cruel to her or wanted to prolong her pleasure. Either way, I was going to enjoy her and that would include the greatest pleasure of all when I would take her over the edge into her orgasm. 

I began to work on her with my fingers, rubbing them softly through the moist crevices between her inner and outer lips. Her thighs were trapped underneath my arms and, with Sig gripping her wrists above her head, her body was pinned. She squirmed at my touches and, for a while, I matched the rhythm of her movements to enhance her arousal. 

Then I changed the pattern and with the tips of my fingers I spread her pussy to expose her inner lips and her opening. The lips were smaller than most and formed two hard ridges which tapered out from her jutting, pink clit. I spread her wider apart and saw the slick pink swirls of her cunt which seemed to be pulsing in anticipation. 

I had to lick her, to lick all of her slit from top to bottom, to lick and taste her and feel her work her body against my mouth, wanting me and needing me to make her cum. I licked harder and faster and she moaned loudly and her body tensed. I had her on the very edge and then I stopped. 

'Yes,' I heard Sig say. 'Slow.'

I curved a finger up into her, through the ring of tight muscle at the entrance and into the inner heat of her body. I circled it around inside her and located the soft pad of her G-spot which produced an immediate reaction. She humped her hips up to me and we began to fuck, my finger and her cunt, moving in unison. I slipped a second finger inside her and we increased the pace. With the palm of my other hand I covered her clit so that she would have something to work herself against. 

'Oh God,' she cried, 'please, please don't stop.'

I looked up at Sig and he just smiled enigmatically and kept his grip on her wrists. 

Lindi was throwing her head from side to side and I concentrated all my efforts on her. She was mine and I was going to take her all the way. I wanted to have her orgasm so that for a brief moment I would possess her. 

And then it happened. Her body tensed and quivered and she almost screamed. I felt a spurt of liquid from her pussy and her body jerked. My reflex was to move my hand from her clit and I saw it - a second jet of liquid spurted out of her and splashed hot against my thighs. And then another and another. It was like she was a man shooting sperm but instead of being white and creamy it was clear and watery. I'd never seen it before, only heard about it. I licked my hand but there was no taste; no man-like saltiness, just wetness. 

I took my fingers out of her and bent over to lick at her cunt and taste more of her. I felt I had an awesome power over her. I wanted to make her do it again, but it was over. Her body lay limp and Sig was kneeling by her side and holding her against him, talking quietly in their own language. 

I stood up, as much to unbend my knees as anything else, and the wetness of her ejaculation ran down my legs. I was still wearing my wet g-string and my body felt hot and sweaty. I decided to leave them to their moments of personal intimacy and to take a quick shower and see what might happen later. 

I stood under the cool spraying water and thought of what had happened with Lindi. I wondered about myself and if I might be able to ejaculate as she had, and I wondered if I would ever get the chance to see her do it again. I dropped my hand down between my legs, running my fingers through my slit, feeling the familiar crevices, the inner lips which always seemed too large, the stem of my clit which was rigid and the sensitive tip which could swell to a size that sometimes seemed embarrassingly gross. 

I wondered about Sig and Lindi and what they might want to do. Maybe they'd had what they wanted and were ready to leave. Or maybe they were ready for more sex. Sex was what I needed and I'd happily lie back and let them have me. For a moment I thought about how it was to be pleasured by a man and a woman together; the delicious combination of masculine and feminine touches from exploring hands, the different pressures and textures of licking tongues seeking to arouse and excite, the sheer eroticism of being the center of attention ...

My train of thought had not run far when Lindi knocked on the glass door of the shower. She pushed it open, hopped inside and grimaced at the sudden sensation of the cool water. 

Her first words were: 'I'm so sorry. Did I get you wet and messy?'

'Of course you did,' I answered with a smile, 'and it was totally amazing and you can get me wet and messy any time you like.'

I put my arms around her and she pressed her face into my breasts.

'It doesn't happen like that all the time,' she said , breaking away from me. 'It was the way you did it. When it builds up slowly, I feel the pressure growing inside me and I can't stop it.'

'Would you really want to stop it?' I asked.

'No,' she giggled, 'because it's the best feeling ever.'

'But now it's for you,' she went on. 'We want to please you. Would you like to have Sig? He thinks you are very sexy and he always wants to do it with blond women. Would you like it?'

'I'd like it very much, with both of you,' I told her. 

'I have to tell you something,' she said after a short pause. 'Sig is not very big. Did you see him already? But he's a good lover. I think it will be OK.'

I had seen him earlier, when he joined Lindi and I on the floor. The only impression I had was that it was very stiff and had a lovely dark colour.

'If he's good enough for you, he'll be good enough for me,' I told her. 

I took hold of her hand and guided it between my legs. She didn't need any more invitation and her fingers ran through my slit and back and forth over my clit. 

'Wow, you are very horny,' she said.

She sank to her knees in front of me and I leaned back against the wall of the shower, the water streaming down over both of us. She parted my lips and gave me a lick and then she looked up at me. 

'You have a very big clit,' she said. 'It looks amazing.' 

'I guess it's not exactly hard to find,' I answered. 'But let's get out of here and get dry. We'll be much more comfortable out there. And don't you think Sig deserves some attention?'

We found Sig, still naked, sitting back on one of the sofas, sipping a drink. He was very slim and angular, and he had almost no body hair. His skin was an olive colour and it enhanced the toned look of his body. Lindi went to kneel by his side on the sofa and whisper in his ear while I knelt on the floor in front of him. 

'This is to reward you for your patience,' I said, looking up at him and licking my lips.




A Favour for Anthony



He just smiled enigmatically, lay back and parted his legs. His dick was half soft, half firm and looked very small but I planned to change that. He was circumcised so the tip was there just needing to be touched. With my thumb and forefinger I gently rubbed and pulled and it started to change shape in that amazing way that guys do. I licked at the tip and then took it into my mouth, all the time massaging the shaft. In no time I had him steely hard. 

He murmoured sounds of encouragement but I had no idea how far I could take him. I eased back with my mouth and just rubbed the shaft and fondled his balls. He had only a little pubic hair and he felt super-smooth. What his dick lacked in size, it made up for in stiffness, and the rim around the head was very prominent. It looked taught and dark and sculptured and exciting. When I gave the occasional lick to that delicate sliver of skin between the head and the shaft, it quivered tantalisingly. 

Lindi was kissing his chest and she reached a hand down to join mine around his cock. My eyes met hers and she raised her eyebrows in a silent question. I nodded in response and she took the initiative.

'Come,' she said, moving away from Sig and making space. 'Come and sit between us.'

I filled the space she made and they both turned to me, Lindi to kiss my mouth and Sig to lick my neck. They moved down to my breasts, fondling and squeezing them and teasing the nipples into hard bullets. I watched in delicious bliss as Lindi cupped one of my tits in her hand and offered it to Sig to suck upon. He rolled the nipple between his lips then sucked and pulled at it, gently at first and then harder. It was much more arousing than painful, but I was sure that he had a sadistic streak in him.


It didn't take long before their hands were between my thighs and I was more than happy to accept them. Sig knelt between my legs, which were spread wide, and parted the lips of my pussy. He watched intently as Lindi played with my clit, rubbing her finger tips in circles around it. Sig seemed to be enjoying the view because he was speaking more than at any time since I'd met them. From time to time Lindi offered a translation.

'Sig thinks your clit is amazing,' she told me. 'He thinks it looks like a little cock. He wants to suck it.' 

'Tell him to go ahead,' I said, 'but just softly - it's very sensitive.'

The combination of Lindi's fingers and Sig's mouth, as well as everything that had gone before, was enough to send tremours through my body. I let go of the control I had tried to keep on myself and gave way to the sensations which were flowing through me. I know I tried to push my clit into Sig as though I was fucking his mouth and then I exploded into an orgasm. Lindi held me tight and showered me with soft kisses and when I looked into her face she was smiling with pleasure. 

I was only just beyond the high of my climax when Sig slid his cock into me. He was still kneeling between my legs and had my thighs in his hands, forcing them back and spreading them wide. The way he went in, with me slumped forward on the edge of the sofa, caused his thrust to push hard up against my G-spot. It was a perfect angle and I moaned loudly at the intensity it created. I didn't have any feeling of being stretched; his cock was not thick enough for that and, anyway, I was soaking wet. The sense was of his stiffness and, as he began to thrust and fuck me, each stroke seemed to slide along the upper wall of my slit. 

He didn't spend much time giving me long, slow strokes and I was glad he didn't. I wanted it fast because I was still on a high and I could cum again very easily. His hips moved with incredible speed and the fervor was all consuming. I was aware of Lindi close to me but all my concentration was on Sig's fucking and the feelings building up inside me. When I went over the edge and the release came, my whole body seemed to convulse and then I felt like I was free-falling from a great height. It was bliss and I wanted to float away on hot air currents to another world. 

'Are you OK?' Lindi asked, bringing me back to earth. 

I opened my eyes and saw Sig standing in front of me. His tight body was covered with sweat and he had his cock, still stiff, in his hand. He smiled another of those enigmatic smiles and then spoke in Chinese to Lindi. She responded by climbing down from the sofa and kneeling between my still parted legs so that her ass was pointed back to Sig. She looked up at me and smiled, then rested her head on my tummy. Sig knelt behind her and she gripped my waist as he put his cock into her. 

He wasn't moving fast this time. He was giving her easy strokes whilst he regained his energy. Occasionally he gave her a slap on the side of her butt and, from her moans, she seemed to enjoy it. Gradually, he picked up the pace and force of his fucking and each thrust pushed Lindi against my body. Her grip on me became tighter and she began to pant and gasp. His slaps were no longer playful but full-blooded smacks and she winced as she felt their impact. I am sure he wasn't concerned so much with her pleasure as his own, though Lindi was clearly enjoying what she was getting.

Abruptly Sig withdrew his cock from her, stood up and spoke to her with urgency in his voice. She quickly turned around so that she was sitting between my legs but facing Sig. He moved closer to her, pumping his cock hard and fast with his hand. A jet of cum shot into her upturned face. He groaned loudly as more cum erupted, this time spraying her breasts and my thighs. He crouched over her and lowered himself so that he could enter her mouth. She duly took him to suck the last drops but he wasn't content to leave it up to her. He took hold of her head and forced his cock as far into her mouth as it would go. Even though he wasn't so big it amazed me that she managed to take him all without gagging. 

Although Sig had again showed his sadistic streak, when he had finally spent himself in Lindi's mouth, he sat beside her and took her gently and warmly in his arms. It was the kind of combination of emotions with which I was very familiar; at one moment the desire to give the pleasure of pain, at the next moment the desire to give comfort. I wondered just what he might do with her when they were alone or perhaps with someone they knew better than me. It could be very interesting, I thought. 

The following day I got a call from Anthony. 

'How did it go last night?' he asked. 

'Well,' I replied, 'I'd have been happy to have things go on for longer but they seemed happy enough when they left. I hope they enjoyed themselves and that I lived up to expectations.'

'You've never let me down yet, Jill,' he re-assured, 'and to put your mind at rest I'm sure you would like to know that I spoke to Lindi this morning. She said that you have a free ticket to Hong Kong whenever you want. Just let me know when you can make it and I'll set it up for you.' 



A Favour From Dad



I have a daughter, Valerie, by name. She's nineteen and, in a father's unprejudiced opinion, just perfect. She and a friend of hers, Ruth, came up to me the other day as they had a request.

Val wasn't backward about it. She just fronted right up to me and said she wanted me to do them a favour. I said sure, anything you want, and then Val started to beat around the bush.

That's when I realised I should have asked what the favour was, first. I had a funny feeling I was going to have to back out of it. Valerie, you must understand, is a very straightforward sort of person. You've heard of people who take the bull by the horns? Valerie isn't quite as retiring as those people. She grabs the bull by the testicles and squeezes them until she gets what she wants. For her to dither when asking for something was most unusual.

Eventually she blurted it out. Would I be so kind as to rape Ruth?

My immediate reaction was to wonder where I could locate a good psychiatrist at short notice. Looking at the two hopeful faces I decided that a lot more thought was needed, and decided to explore the request.

"Why?" I asked.

Apparently heartened by the fact that I hadn't just laughed at them or given a flat refusal, the girls explained. Apparently another girl they both knew, a stranger to me, had been raped by her boyfriend. She had confided to Ruth that while it had definitely been rape and she was very angry at her boyfriend, it was also some of the most exciting sex she had ever had.

Since then Ruth had been wondering what it would be like to be raped and how could you go about getting yourself raped safely. She didn't want to stir up her current boyfriend to the point where he raped her because they didn't yet have a sexual relationship, and if he raped her once and got away with it he might think it gave him licence to continue doing it.

Neither did she want to put herself into a position where some stranger would rape her. Anything could happen. She wanted some degree of security but wasn't sure how to go about it.

Ruth had been discussing possibilities with Val and Val had the brainwave that I would make the perfect rapist. Thank you very much for that vote of confidence, Val. It was a surprising choice in my opinion because Val had always seemed to regard me as a sexual neuter. She had always seemed to assume that after she was born, my testicles dropped off, and I never wanted to have sex again. 

In case you're wondering, I've been a single father for years, but any sexual adventures I'd had had been well out of my daughter's view.

So the girls now had a theoretical rapist and a voluntary victim, but weren't sure how to get the show on the road.

I pushed a bit harder on why they had chosen me for a rapist. It turned out they trusted me. They knew I wouldn't actually do anything to hurt Ruth (excluding the little matter of rape) and that I wouldn't expect to carry on a sexual relationship with her afterwards. It would just be a once off rape so that Ruth could experience it.

"So what you really want is for Ruth to have some consensual non-consensual sex," I told them. "The way it works is that Ruth gives her consent at the start and can't withdraw that consent. It doesn't matter if she changes her mind, as I would just ignore any refusal. You would, in the initial consent, agree to certain limits. 

For example, you would make the consent time-frame limited. You may say it applies to tomorrow and runs for forty eight hours, starting at midnight tonight. You may also like to limit the number of times you're agreeing to have sex in that period. You don't want to find yourself being pounced on every couple of hours and forced to have sex. 

And you may want to limit what I can do. 

Do you understand how it works?"

"I think so," said Ruth. "I'd say that you can have sex with me once tomorrow and then I forget about it, but at some stage tomorrow you ravish me."

"Close, but not quite accurate. What it means is that sometime tomorrow I would take you, even if you changed your mind and decided you didn't want sex with me after all. I would already have irrevocable permission, and if you do change your mind you're going to be raped anyway.

And I might want you to do things you don't want to do. What would you do if I demanded that you give me a blowjob to start with?"

Both the girls blushed at that and looked at each other. 

"Um, I'm not sure," said Ruth. "I might refuse to do that."

"And I'm the rapist, remember. I might not let you refuse. How would you react if I spanked you until you agreed to do the blowjob?"

There was more blushing and exchanging of glances, but Ruth actually looked a little intrigued.

"I'm not sure that I'd like a spanking," she said.

What the hell. I was sitting down and she was standing right there in front of me wearing a short skirt.

"Let's find out," I said and took hold of her arm and pulled.

Ruth suddenly found herself across my knee. I just flicked her skirt up and peeled her panties down and then delivered a nice firm swat to her bottom.

The poor girl didn't know what to do. She squealed and kicked and appealed to Valerie for help. Valerie was too busy laughing at her to be of any assistance.

I gave Ruth another nice swat and then ran my hand down a bit, cupped her mound and squeezed it.

Ruth gave another squeal.

"What are you doing?" she wailed.

Letting her up, I laughed at her.

"Giving you something to think about," I told her. "Imagine how you'd be feeling right now if you were still bent over my knee, knowing the spanking had only commenced and that you were going to be raped once it was completed."

Ruth was blushing and hastily pulling her panties back into place. She was also, I noticed, breathing hard and her nipples were erect. Interesting.

"Ok, girls. Why don't the pair of you go off and discuss the whole thing some more now that you know a bit more about what you're asking. If Ruth really wants to go ahead with it she can come back and discuss it with me. 

Alone. You will keep your nose out of it," I added, speaking to Val.

The two young women hastily left, not just the room but the house, and I could see them waving their hands and talking as they walked off down the street. 

It was just after seven in the evening when Ruth dropped past to see me. Val was at work and would be for a couple of hours. I smiled at Ruth and invited her in and she followed me into the lounge room.

I settled her onto the couch, sitting at the other end of it, and gave her a quizzical look. She blushed slightly, but she was determined. 

"I really want to know what it's like," she said, not looking directly at me. But I don't want to have to give a blow job or," going deeply red, "anal. I just want to know what it's like to have no real choice. I thought sometime over the next day or so I could come around and we'll see how it goes."

"So you are effectively giving me permission to have sex with you sometime between now and the next two days?" I asked. "Only once and within the limits you just specified."

Ruth nodded vigorously, but I wasn't having that. I was recording her consent and I needed her to say it.

"I didn't hear that," I told her, smiling.

"I said yes," she muttered, but loudly enough for my purposes. "When would you like me to come around?"

"You're already here," I snapped. "Take off your clothes now. All of them. I want you naked right away."

Ruth was slightly taken aback. "Wh-what?" she stammered.

"I said, take off your clothes. Are you deaf? Or do I have to rip them off you?"

"But," she said. "What are you saying?"

I reached over and pulled her towards me so that she fell across my lap. Reaching up her dress I took hold of her panties and pulled them down and them I slapped her bottom for her. 

"I said naked, now," I told her. "I'm going to count to ten and if you're not naked by then I will strip you myself and spank you while I do it. One."

Ruth was pale and hurriedly shedding clothes before I reached ten.

"That's better," I told her, "but you need to learn to do as you're told, when you're told. 

Bend over that chair," I said, pointing to an armchair.

Giving me nervous looks Ruth did as she was told, bending over the arm of the chair and shooting little looks in my direction. Standing, I moved up behind her and toed her ankles, encouraging her to move them further apart.

"I had to tell you three times to take off your clothes," I told her and then I counted.

"One, two, three," I said, giving her a firm spank with each count. "Next time you'll do as your told at once, won't you?"

Ruth nodded her head, not daring to speak apparently. Things weren't going the way she'd expected. I cupped her mound and started teasing her.

"Do you know why I want you naked?" I asked.

"You're going to have sex with me," she said in a very small voice. "Right now. I don't think I'm ready for it."

"Too bad," I reminded her. "You don't have any say in the matter, now do you?" 

When she didn't answer fast enough I dropped another spank on her bottom.

"I said, do you?" I rapped out, and this time I received a gasped "No."

This time I slapped her pussy with my cupped hand. Noisy and stinging a little but no harm. 

"When I ask a question you answer it promptly. Understand?"

A very small "yes" went floating past. Ruth was feeling very helpless by now. She was naked in front of a man who apparently felt free to spank her bottom whenever he wished and who was going to have sex with her, and it was too late for her to change her mind.

I took of my trousers and pressed against her bottom, letting her feel my erection pressing between her cheeks. She squeaked and tried to wriggle away but was pinned between me and the chair.

I rubbed myself against her while my hands snaked around and closed over her breasts. I roughly teased them, letting her know I could do as I wished and she had to take it. After a while I moved to stand side on to her. This allowed me to continue to play with her breasts with one hand while the other returned to the task of getting her pussy worked up.

I could see Ruth flinging little glances at my erection and then turning her head to look anywhere but there, but always finding herself turning back to look at me again.

She was breathing hard and squirming under my touch, but I noticed that she was squirming into, rather than away from, my hand. Fingers dipped between her lips and slipped quite deep inside her, telling me she was hot and wet and tight.

I moved around behind Ruth again, my hands reaching down to ease her lips apart. She knew what was about to happen and she groaned.

"Please, I'm really not sure about this anymore," she told me, and then screamed as she found me roughly intruding into her.

I was deliberately rough. Not mean or brutal, but just heedless of her as I forced my way along her passage, Ruth squealing loudly for each inch of territory claimed.

Then I was in her and she was mine and Ruth was panting, almost quivering against me. I held for a moment, then pulled back and returned, pressing home just as roughly but finding the going a lot smoother now that Ruth had had a chance to stretch and cater for me.

Ruth had instinctively pushed back against me when I started moving, and as I started driving into her she resumed her squealing and wriggling but also pushed hard back to meet me.

As this was supposed to be rape I took unconscionable advantage of the woman. I slammed into her hard and fast and Ruth had to bounce her butt pretty smartly to keep up with me. My hands were mauling her breasts, squeezing them and rubbing her hard little nipples against my palms, while my cock pounded her, having its way with her.

Ruth's squeals and protests were finally dying down, mainly because she needed all her air to just breathe. She was gasping heavily as our bodies bounced against each other, her previous loud squeals now no more than little mewing sounds as her body desperately sort its' satisfaction.

Fairly soon Ruth started writhing under me, trying to get closer to me while her bottom was bouncing harder than ever. The little squeaking mews she had been letting out were turning into pleading, asking for more. 

I was doing my best, I assure you, plunging into her receptive body with my full weight behind my thrust, almost lifting her off the floor. Ruth was accepting it as her due and bouncing back for more. This rape lark was going to kill me, I swear it.

Somehow Ruth had gained a second wind and her squeals were starting up again. They were becoming louder and more excited, and I could tell that I didn't have far to go to have her climax. Which was fortunate, as I was about to bust with mine.

I just gave up, relaxing and slamming into her, letting my climax gush deep inside her. Ruth's squeals turned into a scream, noisy thing that she was, and she started shuddering as her own climax ripped into her.

I relaxed afterwards, watching Ruth as she sort of crumbled into the armchair. (By relaxed, I mean I collapsed onto the couch, wondering if forty is a good time to have a heart attack.) By the time I had recovered some energy, Ruth was stirring. 

I gathered up her clothes and steered her through to the bathroom and pushed her into the shower. Then I put on some coffee.

After a while Ruth came dancing out of the bathroom, fully dressed, not a hair out of place. I poured her some coffee and she perched on the table, drinking it. She started to bring up what had just taken place but I held up a hand. I wasn't going to discuss my performance with her.

I told her if she had to talk about it she could chat with her friends as long as she left my name out of it. She pouted but didn't say anything.

I knew damned well she had enjoyed what had happened but I didn't need a post mortem. She was barely half my age and I couldn't see any long term relationship developing. Better if she found a nice young man of her own age.

She did hint at one stage that she probably wouldn't fight too hard if I tried for a second round sometime. I hinted right back that it was fortunate that she'd stipulated only a single time or I might have been tempted to take her again. She looked a little disconcerted at that.

She left before Val got home, and of course when Val did get home she wanted to know if Ruth had come to see me. I told her she'd have to discuss that with Ruth as I wasn't commenting.

Mind you, I expect the next few days might be interesting. I have every intention of getting Ruth back in my bed at least once. She seemed to take to dominance rather eagerly. I was curious as to how far I could push it.



A Favour Returned



Lisa and Charlie lived in a really wealthy neighbourhood on a hillside with a view of the sea a few miles away. In summertime, the thirty-something couple enjoyed making love outdoors on the huge deck that ran the length of their house. Even though they could see their neighbours’ houses, their property was large - a couple of acres - and they always felt completely private.

Lisa was very slim, with a girlish body that belied her thirty years. Her small firm breasts with large nipples would not have been out of place on a sixteen year old. Charlie was older, but still in good shape. “Women love forty-something men,” he used to jokingly tell Lisa, “because they’re young enough to fuck like bunnies, but old enough not to come too quickly.”

On the particular Friday night that our story begins, it was a warm summer evening, and Lisa and Charlie were lying on sun loungers out on the deck, under a moonlit sky, sipping wine and enjoying the gentle breeze. They were adventurous lovers, and Charlie equally enjoyed fucking his lovely wife in her neat little pussy and her beautifully well rounded ass. Their main love toy was a large flesh-coloured dildo that Charlie, being something of a handyman, had strapped firmly to a sun lounger, pointing straight up, but more of that later…

Lisa was in a simple sundress, with high heeled sandals, and not much else. Charlie lifted her dress, put his large palm on her stomach with the fingers facing downwards, and took a firm grip just above her shaved pussy. Lisa drew her breath in sharply, as her glistening cunt opened and her rose-red clit revealed itself. Taking a small mouthful of wine, Charlie softly started tonguing her clit, the wine tingling slightly, and Lisa shivered with pleasure.

Soon her pussy was dripping, a delightful combination of her juices and the chardonnay.

After ten minutes or so, Charlie slid two fingers into her grateful cunt, and turned his attention to her firm small tits. He slipped her dress straps off, and spent several minutes lightly brushing her nipples. Soon she was squirming with excitement, and he starting kneading her breasts and firmly squeezing the nipples. 

They were both very turned on, and latched onto each others' tongues in a long kiss. Lisa released Charlie’s bulging cock from his shorts, and they made love in several different positions for the next half-hour. Finally Charlie shot his load and with satisfied smiles, they both went indoors to shower and eat their evening meal.

---------------------------------

The next evening when Charlie came home from work, he found a small green envelope propped up on the front door handle. It had a faint musk smell. “Sure as hell aint a bill”, thought Charlie, “Wonder what the hell it is…?”.

There was a matching lime-green piece of paper inside the envelope, and Charlie, his pulse racing, read the following note, written in a flowerly, female script:

“Dear neighbours,

You don’t know us, but we feel we know you. We hope you don’t mind, but last night, we were outside enjoying the lovely evening when my husband William happened to notice the two of you making love. We were so turned on, we had to keep watching, even though we knew we really shouldn’t, privacy-wise that is. What could we do? William just loved watching your wife’s pert little breasts bounce as you fucked her from underneath. We were both so turned on from watching you that we fucked each other’s brains out last night.

In fact, we feel so bad about spying on you that we want to return the favour tonight. Our house is on your left, the one with the slate roof. We usually leave the one-way sliding glass doors closed, which is why you didn’t notice that we could see you, but tonight we’re going to open things right up, and that includes me! We plan to put on a show for you that will excite you as much as yours unknowingly did us.

We also want to extend an invitation to you. If you like what you see, come around to our house tomorrow night at about eight. We’ll leave the front door key behind the second pot-plant on the right near the front door. Let yourselves in. I think we could all have a wonderful time…

Yours dripping,

Eve. ---------------------- His heart pounding, Charlie could hardly wait to show Lisa the note. His cock was already bulging at the thought. Lisa and he had talked many times about swinging, but somehow had never plucked up the courage to take that first leap. It all seemed so clinical and calculated to Charlie to make contact through a magazine or newspaper ad, a little too easy. Charlie, ever the romantic, had always needed some spontaneity to tickle his imagination and get the juices flowing. Now he had it…

---------------- That night, Lisa and Charlie left the balcony light off and took up positions to watch the neighbour's house. Some hours passed, and just as they were about to give up, Lisa noticed the sliding door being opened.

A powerful looking blonde haired man in his fifties, and dressed in a neat black suit, strode out onto the balcony and looked across at the two of them, who, both giggling, tried their best to be still, knowing he couldn't really see them in the gloom - he just wanted them to know that he knew they were there. Now it was showtime.

The blonde man went inside the doors again, and this time he came out wheeling what looked like a chair on wheels. On the chair was a young woman, completely naked. Her hands were tied behind her and she was strapped to the chair. Her legs were also tied, each one with a rope behind the knee, pulling her shapely legs wide apart, and revealing that there was a large vibrator firmly wedged into her arse. She was blindfolded.

The blonde man wheeled the chair to the edge of the balcony, and turned it to face Lisa and Charlie's house. Then he slowly started working the vibrator in and out of the woman's arse...

Lisa felt her pussy getting warm at the sight of this. She glanced across at Charlie, who was having a hard time pretending he wasn't that he wasn't being hugely turned on. She caught his eye, and with a little nod of her head towards the door, told him she was keen too.

They quickly let themselves out the house, and walked the couple of hundred yards to the front door of the grey slate house....