Storiesonline.net ------- Hartford #4 by Paris Waterman Copyright© 2006 by Paris Waterman ------- Description: Terry, Paul, Trevor, Barbara and Gretchen dine out. Terry tells of her first time with Paul while Gretchen and Barbara slurp away under the table. Also introduced are tow new characters: Anita and Isfair, who will go on to there own stories elsewhere. Codes: MF mF cons het swing oral anal toys ------- Copyright© 2005 Dining Out Thanks again to a great proofing job by Diane The group went out to the Olive Garden to dine, and while awaiting the main entrée, Barbara teasingly asked Terry how she and Paul had met. "You mean when we first met, or when we first got down and did the dirty deed?" Terry asked, between placing a forkful of antipasto into her lovely oval-shaped mouth. "Tell 'em 'bout the dirty deed, honey," Paul said, putting down his nearly empty wine glass. "Oh, yes," Gretchen exclaimed excitedly. "I love to hear about people's first times." "Hear, hear," Trevor amended, and that sort of cemented things. Terry patted her mouth with a napkin and said, "All right, you guys win, here goes." Barbara lightly squeezed her husband's thigh. Both Trevor and Paul had a hand between Gretchen's legs and Terry lightly ran a thumbnail over Barbara's pussy. "I was immersed in a vile bout of horniness unendus," she winked at Barbara, and went on. "That's Latin for insatiably horny. I was in my sophomore year. I must confess, that I was insatiable my entire freshmen year. I fucked anyone and everything. I thought I had finished with that stage. I had," Terry paused to bestow a loving smile upon her husband, then resumed, with, "until I met Paul. We'd met a few days earlier. He had given me this wonderful massage..." He certainly knew how to get you warmed up, didn't he?" Barbara said, lewdly. "It wasn't like that at all," Terry said, and blushed. "Well, in retrospect, maybe it was, but not the first time. I had been thinking about him ever since. I had worn out the batteries in my vibrator, and fingered myself to a zillion orgasms. Yet I couldn't get this guy out of my mind. So I broke all the rules of the day, and called him." Gretchen laughed and said, "Nowadays, a girl doesn't have to agonize over a stud like Paul. We just grab a cell and call him. Maybe show him a short video of our best side to stimulate his interest. It certainly works for me." "Anything would work for you, darling," Trevor said and kissed her on the neck. "Eewwe! I love it!" she shrieked. "So," Terry said, continuing, "I still remember he answered on the fourth ring. "Paul Hartstein." "Paul, it's me, Terry Miller. We met last week. You massaged my neck?" "Yeah, hi Terry, how's that neck?" "Paul... I don't know quite how to begin..." "Why not start from the beginning? Tell me what the problem is. There is a problem, isn't there?" "Yes, there is most certainly a problem." Terry paused for dramatic effect on those sitting at the table, and then went on. "My problem is... ever since you massaged my neck, I can't get you out of my mind." "What!" Paul gasped, totally unprepared. "Can... can you meet me someplace? Right away, I mean." "Um, yeah... I guess so." After a brief pause, Paul asked, "Where do you want me to meet you?" I admitted that I hadn't thought it through; and said as much to him. "My apartment?" I asked, with some uncertainty. "Yeah, sure," he said, searching for something to write her address with. "Where is it?" "Over on Elm. 2314 Elm, it's a three story, red brick..." "I know it," he said, causing me to think he'd already used the place to screw someone else. My heart sank. I was totally dejected for the moment." Paul interjected, telling those at the table, "That wasn't true at all. Freshmen year I delivered pizzas. I knew all the college apartments by heart." "Two o-clock okay?" he asked. I decided to push my luck, Terry said, "I was thinking about now," and bit my lip awaiting his response. The telephone clicked, went silent for a few moments. She wanted to scream, but contented herself with chewing on her tongue until it started to bleed. Then, with another click, he was back. "Okay, I'm leaving right now," he said and hung up. ------- "I'm glad I asked how the two of you met," Barbara said, pressing both men's hands firmly into her crotch. She completely ignored the server, a fine looking Italian brunette, who definitely took notice of Barbara's actions as she placed their dinners before them. Both she and a busboy had been eavesdropping on the group, and the eighteen-year-old server had grown wet while listening. "I was holding... God knows why... but I was holding my vibrator in one hand when the doorbell rang. I screamed and tossed it into the air. Honestly, I never knew where it landed," Terry said to everyone at the table. "Now that part I still don't believe," Paul said, emphatically waving his napkin in the air. "Paul!" Terry protested vehemently, while the others smiled knowingly; having reached their own conclusions based on their own life experiences. "Well," said Paul, "look at where it turned up. And when it turned up," he said, pointing dramatically at his wife. Terry attempted an explanation to the others. "At the most awkward moment, the damn thing popped up between my legs. I mean, you couldn't have planned it more conveniently." "See what I mean?" Paul threw in. "Anyway," Terry said, we're getting ahead of ourselves." "I agree, sweetie. Get us back on track, why don't you?" He signaled the server that they could use more wine, and she hurried over to fill everyone's glass. "At any rate, I opened the door. I had no idea where the damn vibrator went, honestly," Terry protested. Trevor nodded agreeably, and Gretchen smiled sympathetically, while Barbara was opening Paul's zipper with one talented hand. "Here I am," he said, as if he were the answer to every girl's desire," Terry said, smirking proudly. "He was the answer to your every desire, wasn't he?" Barbara said, taking a firm hold of Paul's rigid member and giving it a hearty squeeze. Terry had the good graces to blush at Barbara's comment. "He still is, Barb, he still is," Terry admitted with some pride. "She's definitely a keeper, Paul," said Trevor, who then threw his hands up defensively and said, "I know, I know. I should let her tell the damn story and just shut up." "Yes, let her tell the story, Trevor," Gretchen said, struggling to open Trevor's fly; and on succeeding, said to no one in particular, "Pardon me, I've got to see a horse about a man." That said, the young blonde slid out of her chair, and went under the table, to suck upon Trevor's formidable erection. The server and busboy looked on, fascinated. "Is she doing..." the Algerian busboy began. "Yes, she is." The brunette server replied. "Now, come with me," she growled and yanking him by the arm pulled him along until they reached a seldom used storeroom. ------- Barb turned to look at the TV behind her, and accidentally on purpose, knocked her purse onto the floor. She leaned over to pick it back up, and disappeared, joining Gretchen on the carpeted floor of the restaurant. Paul heard giggling from under the table and something about "let's see 'em eat without us..." Then he felt hands pulling his knees apart. His startled expression told his wife Terry exactly what was happening. "They wouldn't!" she exclaimed. "I'm afraid they have," Trevor said, an embarrassed expression on his face. A soft slurping sound could be heard from under the table. Terry's countenance bore a fleeting grimace of pain, but she decided to continue on with her story as if nothing unusual had occurred. ------- The Italian server, who's name was Anita, pinned the young busboy against a stack of Gallo wine cartons in the storeroom. "What'd I do?" Isfair crowed defensively. He was only fifteen, and in the country illegally, having made use of his cousin's papers to obtain the job. He feared everyone and everything foreign to him. "It's what you're gonna do," Anita growled, as her hormones ran amuck. Anita was a girl from a highly religious family. A family steeped in the Old Italian tradition. A young woman must retain her virginity at all costs, or the entire family is disgraced. This meant no dating until the family found a suitable young man. Then chaperones would follow them everywhere. For Anita, a girl with normal sexual urges, this was torture. She might have continued to do so, but for the actions of Gretchen and Barbara when they slid under the tablecloth to perform what Anita knew had to be fellatio on their men. 'If they were their men, ' she thought as she held Isfair pinioned against the wine cartons, feeling his young, taut body against hers. "Huh?" the boy cried, still unaware of what the highly aroused girl — a full-grown woman to poor Isfair — wanted of him. "Show it to me!" Anita growled again, careful not to raise her voice, for to be caught with Isfair would cause her to be fired, and to face dire consequences from her father and other family members. "Do you really want to see it, Anita?" The boy was incredulous. Even in his wildest fantasies this had not occurred. "Yes!" She hissed forcefully, as she relented in the pressure she was applying against him to allow him to do her bidding. The young boy placed his hand on his fly, gave her a tentative look, beseeching her not to toy with him in this way. "Show it to me, damn it!" Anita hissed again, and Isfair slowly opened the fly button and lowered the zipper, his jeans slid slowly down around his ankles. Isfair stood there, his hardon poking out against the stained material of his underwear. "Would you like to pull it out yourself, or do you want me to do it?" he asked, weakly. "You do it." she said, her legs were trembling in her excitement. ------- Terry looked at the two men sitting across from her and smiled pointedly. "The two of you are getting blowjobs, and my job is to keep talking as if nothing is going on down there, is that it?" "Yes... oh, God, yes!" Trevor exclaimed, as Gretchen took him deep. "And just who is blowing you, darling?" Terry asked Paul. "I'm not sure... I think its Barbara, but..." From under the table, Barbara took him from her mouth and whispered, "Tis I, the wanton slut from next door. Do you really mind if I borrow your husband's fine specimen for a while?" "Not really," Terry responded. "But I do find the timing to be somewhat objectionable. I'm telling a story at your request. " "I apologize, dear. I promise to spend at least thirty blissful minutes between your thighs later." "Well, if you put it that way, I have no choice but to accept." "Thank you, dear," Barbara said, and then went silent, save for the sucking sounds that occasionally wafted their way from beneath the table. "With all the fucking we've done, it should take a while before your two cocksuckers get you off, you think?" Terry said, to both red-faced men. Chagrined, both men nodded at her. Terry smiled evilly and resumed her story as if nothing had happened. "When Paul showed up, I confronted him, putting a hand on each of his shoulders. I can't get you out of my mind, I said." "This seemed to be more information that he was ready to handle, so I helped him off with his coat, saying as I did, Paul, I'm going crazy... I need to feel your hands on me. And when he hesitated, I added, NOW!" "We sat on the couch. I recall sitting with my knees curled under me. 'Touch me, ' I said, pleadingly." "Are you sure?" he asked, "Is this some kind of prank, or something?" He looked at me, uncertain as to how to proceed. "Paul, haven't you ever met a horny girl before?" "Yes... no, I mean... damn it, I don't know what I mean!" "Paul!" I shouted. My voice must have been filled with exasperation. "All right," he replied hastily, "I'll rub your neck again." "Do you think I'd be dressed like this," I said, "if all I wanted was my neck rubbed?" For the first time, he seemed to notice I'm wearing a robe, and probably nothing under it. "Well, let's start with your neck," he said, still not sure I mean what I'm saying. His eyes were darting everywhere. I am now certain he thinks I'm playing a trick of some sort on him. Like maybe a crowd of people are going to pour out of the closets, or other places, shouting 'Happy Birthday, ' or some other inane greeting at him. "Lean back and relax," he says after a moment, and I did. His hands, oh, those hands, were strong and soothing on my neck muscles. "Better?" he asked me. "Not yet," I answered languidly, already feeling much, much better. Terry stopped, took a sip from her wine, and called out, "How're ya doing down there Gretchen?" "Mmmmmff!" is the only reply. Suddenly the table began to shake, not so much as to attract unwanted attention from the other diners, but sufficiently enough for Terry to realize that one, or both of the women are fingering themselves. "Hmmm, well, if anyone really cares about Paul and me... at any rate, I managed to open my robe, as his marvelous hands massaged my neck and shoulders." Trevor moaned as Gretchen playfully nipped at his testicle. Terry mimicking his moan did likewise, saying, "I moaned, and Paul pulled away, no doubt thinking he'd caused me pain. Of course, I used that as a pretext to let the robe fall completely away from my body, leaving Paul to gaze my nudity. ------- Back in the storeroom, Isfair allowed his dick to spring from his underwear and bob up and down. Anita stared wantonly at it. He looked down as if to see what she was seeing. "Well now," she gasped. "It's pretty big, if you ask me." Isfair's pride in his member caused him to make it jerk and sway. Anita giggled at his antics, crying out softly, "Do that again!" He did it again, pleased with her favorable impression of his manhood. "Let me touch it," she said. Giving Isfair pause to wonder about just who was in control of the situation. "No one will come looking for us?" he asked. "I don't think so. The group at the table has been served and... you saw with your own eyes what they are doing under the table." "I didn't see anything under the table," he protested. Ignoring his comment, Anita reached out and using only her index finger, touched his throbbing dick. "Oh!" she moaned, jerking her hand back as if having touched a flame. Isfair moved in on her, brushing the head of his dick against her belly. "Don't come on me!" She yelled out, and then realizing how loud she'd been, quietly said it again. "I won't," he said, his confidence growing in leaps and bounds. "But you might as well touch it. " He was aching for her to hold it in her hand, hoping she would jerk him off. When she did nothing but stare at it, he moved close to her and placing his hands on her hips, drew her close to him, and began to dry hump her. "What are you doing?" she groaned, but did not move away, for his movement had sent electrical shockwaves through her system. Isfair sent his dick careening off her crotch once more, and she grabbed him in hand and rubbed him against her pussy. He saw that her eyes were closed and reached out to touch one breast. She moaned and he touched the other breast. She squeezed him hard and he felt himself getting ready to come. "Stop that, I'm gonna cum," he yelped. Anita stopped immediately. "Let it alone for a moment, and then you can do it some more," he told her. "You won't come?" "I won't come. If I'm gonna cum I promise I will tell you," he said. "All right, I just don't want to get pregnant," Anita said. "You have your clothes on, you cannot get pregnant," he told her. "I can't?" "Not unless I put my dick inside you, no." "I didn't know... I'm not sure about that. I've heard..." "Don't you know?" he said, incredulous that someone as old as Anita could be so naive. Anita continued to protest, saying, "You seem to be coming now, look." Glancing down at himself, Isfair said, "That's not cum!" He paused, feeling a strange sort of pity for the girl who up until this moment had never missed an opportunity to scold or berate him. Constantly mocking his Arabic heritage, she had belittled him even that evening as he took out the trash to the alley behind the restaurant. "We men," he said, as his chest swelled with pride, for it was the first time he had envisioned himself a man. "Especially we Algerian men, have a natural lubricant that comes out before we enter a woman. It makes entry easier for both the man and the woman." "I can't get pregnant from it?" "Is very doubtful, but to be sure I won't let any get in your pussy." "You can bet your life on that," she said, although she had begun to handle him again, jerking his member several times. She felt him harden even more, although she had thought that impossible. Tactfully, he removed himself from her hand, and said, "You felt mine, now I want to feel yours." "I don't..." she began to protest, but his hand went between her legs and cupped her, pressing inward, then rubbing lightly up and down. Anita closed her eyes again, and sighed. She was clearly enjoying his touch. "Okay," he said, taking his hand away, and then putting his dick back in his underwear. "Now we're even." Anita's eyes widened at the realization their tryst had ended. "Wait!" she called out in protest. "No," Isfair said, warning her, "We must be careful. Someone will miss us. We must go," he said terminating their little tryst. His fear of being deported had overridden his lust. "Okay," Anita said, "But maybe tomorrow we can come back and do it some more." "I would like that," Isfair said with a huge smile." Tomorrow we can kiss and fondle, yes?" "I would like that very much," Anita responded, "very much," inwardly thinking that Isfair had a very handsome smile, and only fifteen, too.' ------- Paul gripped the table with one hand to hold himself still, as a wet tongue, a different tongue, licked his penis, lollypop style. Then a moist mouth engulfed him. Only then did he realize that the women had switched places! It was easy to make the distinction between Barbara, who had initiated the fellatio and Gretchen, whose jaw his cock was currently distending. Barbara's technique was smooth and free flowing, while Gretchen's style had flair of its own, but tended toward a hurried approach. It was the hurried approach that was winging Paul toward his climax at the moment. "You two bitches have switched, haven't you?" Terry said, scolding from above the table. Knowing they were hidden from prying eyes by the tablecloth, neither of the women on their knees, bothered to answer. But each man nodded knowingly to Terry, proving her point. Paul saw Trevor lean back, eyes closed, looking blissfully content. Out of curiosity, Paul let go of the table with one hand and lifted the cloth just a bit. The blonde head bobbing between his thighs confirmed his suspicions, and he mouthed the name, Gretchen to his wife. "Is she that good?" Terry asked aloud. "She knows her stuff, dear." He replied, hoping he wasn't pissing Terry off. "You know, I could get down there too," Terry said. "Oh, God, no!" Trevor exclaimed. "Please don't, dear," Paul gasped. "It might create a scene. I doubt there's room for you, really." "One of the cocksuckers could surface. I could take her place," Terry said with a beatific smile. "We're almost finished," Barbara called out. "Aren't we, Gretchen?" "Mmmmmm!" the teen murmured wetly. Terry merely sighed, and resigned to the inevitable, resumed her tale, just to have something to do. "Anyway," she said, if anyone is listening, with my robe disposed of, I raised my hands, took Nature Boy's hands in mine, and brought them to my tits, and said, 'massage these, will ya?'" "I still recall his exact words," Terry said. "God damn!" He shouted exuberantly. It was like he'd dug up some buried treasure, or something. Cupping one in each hand, he buried his face in them. "I have to give him some credit. After gently bouncing them around, he did concentrate on my nipples. They're sensitive to say the least, and he did pay attention to them, rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers. Tugging softly, urging them to full engorgement. Sort of the way they look right now, see?" Trevor and Paul were both staring at Terry's nipples, now fully hardened, and very prominent against the filmy material of her blouse. "It took some effort on my part, but I managed to dislodge a hand from my tit and guide it lower, much lower. I should tell you all, that at that point in my life I had never taken a razor to my bushy thatch. Needless to say, Paul was impressed with my secret garden, although it took me a while to realize it. You see, he was twiddling my nipple and breathing heavily into my ear. It took a while for me to convince him there were other, more compelling things for him to do with his mouth than heavy breathing." Paul's face was flushed. Terry wasn't sure if it were she or Gretchen who'd brought it about. Trevor, on the other hand, was smiling broadly. It was Trevor who spoke next, saying, "I trust he's improved with age, my dear?" "Yes," Terry said, lightly. "Rather like a fine wine. Now, if only he could learn to keep it in his cask at dinner time." Both women under the table broke out in fits of laughter, causing Terry to smile for the first time in quite a while. Then she resumed her story. "He had the nerve to ask me if it was okay." "Terry," Paul said beseechingly, must you?" "Okay? I said. You have to ask me, if it's okay?" "Terry, please?" She took mercy on him, said nothing for a full minute. The time passed with only the sound of gentle, and then fevered slurping from beneath the table. Trevor grunted twice. From beneath the table, Barbara's voice was clearly heard to say, "It's about fucking time!" "You're next!" Gretchen squawked, and the table shook as she put her entire body into her fellating. An embarrassed look crossed Paul's face, then he, too grunted. Barbara emerged from under the table, clutching her 'dropped' purse, and Gretchen made a series of swallowing sounds. A moment later, she too surfaced. "Wipe your mouth, dear," Terry told her. "What?" Gretchen asked, not comprehending the significance of Terry's statement. "My husband's cum is dripping from your lower lip," Terry said, and then broke out in a fit of giddy laughter. A moment later all the others joined her, including Gretchen, who although laughing, dabbed at her mouth in a lady-like fashion with a napkin. Terry said, "So, to wrap up this blowjob of an evening, Paul says to me, 'Let's get on the floor.'" "I have a bed," I remind him. And at that moment, the damn vibrator... remember? Well, it popped up right between my legs and into my... " "Let me tell it," Paul laughed. "I'm just about to boink her, when this pink thing pops up from beneath her and beats my dick into her snatch." The group's earlier laughter was renewed, and continued unabated. Tears ran down Gretchen's and Barbara's faces as they envisioned the scene described by Paul and Terry. As the laughter gradually subsided, Terry attempted to finish the story. "That's why I wanted to move to the bedroom." "Yeah," Paul said interrupting her. "That's when I reached down, plucked it from her and turned it on." "Oh, no!" Gasped Trevor, who was laughing again. "Oh, yeah!" said Paul, "and sent it back into her. Boy you should have seen her squirming." "It wasn't fair!" terry protested. "I didn't keep it there long," Paul told the others. "Ha!" Terry scoffed, "You couldn't, and you were ready to blast off, prematurely too." "Was not!" "Were too!" "Hey, you two are beginning to sound a little immature," Barbara said, trying to calm them down. "Yeah, thanks, Barb," Terry said. "Sorry, I got a little carried away there," Paul said apologetically. "Anyway, it ended up in my end, my rear-end," Terry said, and then giggled. "I was ready to blast," Paul admitted sheepishly. "But in trying to save face, I applied the vibrator to her ass... um, Terry was in this kinda awkward position at the time, and well, it went in easily." "Was it still on?" Gretchen asked. "Yes, it was on all right," Terry replied. "And, of course, I slipped my dick into her cunt, so our first time was a double penetration," he said, finishing lamely. "Had a hell of a time getting it out of my ass though, ' Terry added. "This guy wanted to call for help." "Well it looked serious..." "Serious enough to end our college careers?" She shot back at him. "Terry..." Terry laughed at him. "Its taken years, but I finally got even with you, you big loveable klutz." There were smiles around the table. Barbara stood up and moved to Terry and kissed her. "You're truly a good sport, and I will make it up to you a little later, promise." Terry nodded and reflected on the taste of Trevor's sperm that his wife has passed to her during the kiss. A moment later, Gretchen was at her side, and they too exchanged kisses. She was able to sample her husband's familiar fluids after the teen's kiss had ended. They called for the check, which Trevor gallantly picked up, and were soon homeward bound. ------- The End ------- Posted: 2006-06-02 ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------