Andrea is a world class head turner; she is a tall,
slender, big-breasted dewy-eyed blonde whose face alone
could have the Pope mumbling to himself. She is
feminine to a fault: a fact demonstrated daily by the
way she dresses, moves, talks, even tosses her hair
when she laughs. Andrea is the stuff of dreams.
Particularly mine. And I was determined to have her.
When she came to work for our small agency a year ago,
every man and boy in the shop hit on her. Including
myself. And as owner and C.E.O. of the thriving agency,
I thought I had a pretty good shot of scoring. I’m
young, single, and reasonably attractive in a Woody
Allen sort of way, I’m in pretty good shape,
prematurely mature perpetually horny and very
financially secure. Yet try as I did (and believe me, I
tried) I got nowhere with Andrea. Not that she was cold
or aloof, far from it. She was warm and gracious and
funny and an extremely talented artist. But I just
couldn’t get anywhere with her.
Our relationship grew slowly and wonderfully from the
day I hired Andrea. We kept business, business, and
semi-socialized only at an occasional lunch which, over
the weeks and months that followed, developed into
almost everyday affair. Our first few lunches quickly
revealed that she wasn’t married, never had been,
didn’t date, and rarely went out at night and that she
spent most of her off hours engaged in her “serious”
painting. Naturally, I began to wonder what was wrong
with me, not her; did I have a catastrophic personality
flaw? Bad breath? Did I look like Quasimodo’s kid
brother? What was it? I couldn’t figure it out and it
was driving me crazy.
And then, suddenly, it all came clear. In a moment of
purely coincidental, unmitigated fate, I learned the
answer…
I was out one night, wining and dining an important new
client at a fashionable, out of the way French
restaurant. We were seated at a small table near a cafe
curtained window and when I happened to glance out, I
spotted Andrea. She was coming out of a bar, a gay bar,
and she was arm-in-arm with a woman nearly as beautiful
as herself. I literally spilled my soup all over
myself. It had never, ever occurred to me that Andrea
was of the Sapphic persuasion. That realization
devastated me and I mourned the loss, holding out a
tiny flicker of hope that I was somehow mistaken.
At lunch with Andrea the next day, I steeled myself
with a drink (something I never do during working
hours) and casually mentioned to Andrea that I could
have sworn I saw her exact double come out of The Blue
Flame with a beautiful woman last night.
Without a moment’s hesitation or showing the slightest
embarrassment, Andrea said, “Oh, no, that was me. Why
didn’t you say ‘hello’ or something?”
I quickly drained the last of my drink and stammered,
“You, you’re gay!?”
Andrea made a face and said, “No, silly, men are gay.
I’m a lesbian,” then casually added, “are you going to
eat your coleslaw?”
“Why didn’t you tell me,” I finally blurted?
“Why didn’t you ask,” she answered coolly? I can’t
begin to imagine what my face must have revealed, but
whatever it was, it wasn’t lost on Andrea. She lowered
her beautiful, smoldering blue-grey eyes and with a
mocking, dejected tone in her voice said, “Oh, shit.
Does this mean I have to pay for my own lunch from now
on?”
I couldn’t believe it. I stared at her, wide-eyed and
open-mouthed and just broke up. I was laughing so hard,
the entire restaurant turned to look at us. Embarrassed
and unable to thwart her own laughter, Andrea got up
and tried to get me to drink some water, dribbling it
down my chin to my pants. That made her laugh even
harder and I cracked up again. Through my choking,
uncontrollable laughter, I finally managed to reply,
“And does this mean I’m never going to get into your
pants?” And still laughing like a couple of crazies, we
walked arm and arm down Michigan Avenue back to the
office.
From that day on, our relationship changed dramatically
and, I hasten to add, for the better. I went back to
seriously pursuing and bedding other women (as did
Andrea, I’m sure), but we still took our lunches
together nearly every day, occasionally adding after
work drinks to our repertoire. I was notably more
relaxed around her, now that I stopped trying to
impress and seduce her and our friendship deepened and
blossomed. Our conversations became more personal and
downright gossipy and I began to feel more like her
hairdresser than her employer.
When we occasionally went to the popular watering
joints after work, I could literally feel the envious
stares of every guy in the place as I escorted this
breathtaking creature through the crowd to a quiet
table in the back and hoarded her to myself all night.
Little did they know that more often than not, we were
discussing and evaluating the women in the bar like a
couple of locker room buddies. Andrea would pick out a
woman and say something like, “I’ll bet that brunette’s
a real scratcher and screamer” or “look at that chick’s
face, she looks like she hasn’t cum in five years” or
“check out the tits on that redhead, don’t they look
delicious.” Needless to say, after a few drinks and
night of titillating conversation like that, I’d have
to hustle up an old, warm, willing friend for a mercy
fuck on my way home from dropping Andrea off.
Then one night, even that changed, too. Andrea and I
were out for dinner and the conversation quite
naturally turned to sex. Even though we were both
lamenting how difficult it was to find good sex
partners, the mood was light, bordering on silly and we
were swapping funny sex stories from our past. Andrea
told me about an older woman she had really liked and
had dated for a while until the woman started getting
weird. She would shave Andrea’s pussy, put ribbons in
her hair and dress her like a little girl. That was
okay with Andrea once in a while, but when it became
the staple of their sex life, Andrea bowed out. And
then there was another woman, a young doctor, who was
obsessed with Andrea’s breasts (and who wouldn’t be, I
thought to myself).
The woman used to suck her tits constantly, often
falling asleep with Andrea’s nipple in her mouth and
waking up the next morning still sucking. The young
Madam M.D. gave Andrea hormone shots and after weeks of
constant suckling, Andrea began to lactate, much to the
delight of this woman who would then literally milk her
twice a day. Andrea said that she began to feel like
nothing more than an old cow and eventually broke up
with the doctor. “Not only that,” Andrea laughed, “she
cost me a fortune. My tits got so big, I had to keep
buying bigger bras. And what am I supposed to do with
those potato sacks now?”
I laughed with her on the outside, but on the inside my
cock was screaming for mercy. And I told her as much.
“Okay, that’s enough,” I groaned, “if we keep talking
about this stuff, I swear I’m going to have to go to
the men’s room and give the old professor some relief.”
Andrea grinned. “You’re kidding,” she teased.
“I am not kidding,” I protested, “my problem is, I
don’t think I can stand up right now.” And in fact, I
couldn’t.
Andrea looked at me and a sly, sexy expression crossed
her face. She leaned into me, giggled like a little
girl and whispered, “I want to watch you masturbate.”
I nearly choked on my coffee. When I regained my
composure I replied, “Now who’s kidding?”
“No, no, I mean it,” she answered sincerely, “I’ve
never seen a man do it. It’d be a trip. C’mon, don’t be
such a candyass.”
It wasn’t the worst proposition I’d ever heard. I
thought about it and smiled. “Okay,” I nodded, “on one
condition. You let me watch you do it.”
Andrea didn’t even think about it before answering.
“It’s a deal. Get the check.”
Even though it was a short distance from the
restaurant, we took a cab to her small but beautifully
decorated apartment and Andrea led me to the bedroom.
As I had suspected, it was a decidedly feminine room
dominated by a big brass bed, Laura Ashley wallpaper
and fabrics and yes, silk sheets. But then things got a
little awkward. We couldn’t agree who was to go first
and flipping a coin seemed too cold to both of us. So
we decided to at least undress simultaneously, one
article each, and see what developed.
I took off my shoes and Andrea kicked off her heels. I
unbuttoned my shirt and threw it on the floor; Andrea
pulled her sweater over her head and shook out her long
blonde hair, but she was still wearing a nearly see-
through silk blouse beneath her sweater. I stripped off
my socks – two items; Andrea peeled off her blouse and
wiggled out of her skirt.
I was down to two items, my pants and underwear while
Andrea was still ostensibly fully dressed. But despite
my protests of “unfair”, I didn’t mind at all. She was
wearing the sexiest lingerie I could have hoped for –
or died for: a satin camisole, push-up lace bra,
minuscule, transparently sheer white panties, a
delicate matching lace garter belt and long nylon
stockings that seemed to have been painted on her
incredibly gorgeous legs.
I reached for my belt and stopped, looking at her and
smiling. “Wait a second,” I protested feebly, “you’re
wearing more clothes than me.”
Andrea just shook her head and smiled back. “Too bad,
sport, deal’s a deal.”
I shrugged, unzipped my pants and stepped out of them,
deliberately facing her. My tiny bikini underwear did
little to conceal the hard-on of a lifetime blazing
upwards between my legs. Andrea looked unabashedly at
my barely restrained cock, smiled and pulled her
camisole off.
That vision will stay with me till the day I die. Her
body was the nearest thing to perfection that I have
ever witnessed. I literally lost my breath. “Oh my
God,” I heard myself groan.
“Oh my God, nothing,” Andrea chirped, “drop your
drawers, sailor.”
I pulled my bikini off so fast, I nearly tripped.
Released from its nylon restraint, my rigid cock jumped
straight out and up, throbbing and bobbing up and down
like a lunatic. I grabbed it, just to hold it steady,
and grinning like the fool that I was, nodded to
Andrea, indicating her bra.
Andrea shrugged and reached for the front closure of
her bra. She unhooked it and teasingly peeled the
fragile lace away from her tits. “I always knew you
were a boob man,” she chided as she shook the straps
off her shoulders, causing her tits to sway gently like
water balloons.
I thought I had died and went to mammary heaven. Up
close and personal, Andrea’s tits were far larger than
I had ever imagined, and I had done a lot of imagining
about them. But as big as they were, they were
exceedingly firm and capped on their upper slopes with
huge, perfectly circular areolas and the longest,
thickest, fleshiest nipples I have ever seen. And they
weren’t even erect yet! Andrea later told me that the
condition of her nipples was a permanent result of her
“milk maid” episode, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
Although I could barely walk, Andrea guided me by the
shoulders to the bed, fluffed up some pillows and told
me to lie down and make myself comfortable. As I did,
she moved a large armchair to the side of the bed, her
breasts swaying with every step, and sat down, facing
me. Just watching her, I automatically began polishing
the Bishop in long, satisfying strokes, praying that I
wouldn’t pop the cork too soon. Andrea just watched me,
more fascinated than aroused.
Between concentrating on the task at hand, the
incredible feeling surging through my swollen balls and
my frequent glances at Andrea’s magnificent tits, I
could barely speak. When I finally found the breath and
strength to speak, I looked at her and gasped, “Aren’t
you supposed to be doing something, too?”
Andrea smiled seductively at me and whispered, “What
makes you think I’m not?” As she spoke, she lifted her
long, stockinged legs over the arms of the chair and I
glanced down at her pussy. The sheer white triangle of
nylon covering her cunt was soaking wet. I almost lost
it right there. I had to squeeze the base of my cock
and hold it for an eternity to keep from squirting.
Andrea noticed what I was doing and grinned. She closed
her eyes and began massaging her tits, seductively
moving her hands to her nipples and squeezing them
awake between her fingers. As big as her nipples were
“at rest”, they grew even more prodigious beneath her
fingers, rising like two crimson red thumbs as her
areolas constricted into smaller circles. She
momentarily lost her breath and, shuddering, licked her
lips to moisten them. “Wouldn’t it be funny,” she
gasped, smiling, “if we were both fantasizing about the
same woman.”
I had to keep from laughing. The thought was so Andrea.
I turned my head away, closed my eyes and went back to
pumping the professor.
“Tell me when you’re going to cum,” Andrea interrupted,
“I want to see it.”
“Don’t worry,” I replied between short breaths, “you’ll
be among the first to know.” I glanced back at her and
watched her long, delicate, perfectly manicured fingers
languorously move down her trim body to her pussy. I
held my breath as she pulled the skimpy fabric of her
panties to one side and slid her finger into her
glistening wet slit and began masturbating very, very
slowly.
Although she was not shaved, her sparse, blonde, baby
fine pubic hair barely concealed her puffy cunt lips.
As she held her outer lips open with the fingers of one
hand, revealing her engorged pink and white clit, the
fingers of her other hand gracefully poked in and out
of her deep red inner lips, occasionally dancing around
her clit before sliding slightly up her tunnel.
I watched her, excited, aroused, fascinated, pumping my
pecker with more authority. I knew I couldn’t hold out
much longer. “Andrea,” I gasped, “this is it, babe,
volcano time.”
Andrea’s eyes were squeezed shut. Her hips were
rotating in the chair in perfect rhythm to her finger
flicking over her clit. “No,” she groaned, “no, wait,
wait, not yet.”
I’m not a man of steel. I clenched my teeth, trying
desperately to hold back despite the few drops of clear
white cum forming on my piss hole. “Andrea…” I
implored.
“Wait,” she whimpered. Her whimpers grew louder, tuning
into what I can only describe as sobs. Quickly, she
withdrew her finger from her clit, licked her
fingertips and went back to work on her puss.
That gesture was it for me. Groaning louder than I
would have liked, I clamped my eyes shut, my body
convulsed and shouting Andrea’s name, I began shooting
the biggest, thickest load of white cum I had ever shot
in my life. The first spurt arched in the air and
landed high on my chest. As the second spurt ejected,
Andrea screamed. I looked over and saw her fingers
buried in her cunt while her thumb frantically played
with her clit. Her entire body heaved and jerked and
her tits swayed from side to side. And I came again,
the thick cum falling into my belly and running down
over my balls. And I kept it up, stroking myself,
roughly pulling my dick, enjoying the aftershocks and
spasms that continue after ejaculation.
After several long minutes, when I was finally able to
look back at Andrea, she was gently stroking her rigid
nipples, eyes closed, smiling peacefully, trying to
catch her breath, too. Her entire body was flushed and
there was just a hint of perspiration mingled with
pussy juice all over her breasts, belly and pubes.
She opened her eyes half way and smiled at me. “Was it
good for you, too,” she teased in a sexy whisper?
“Yeah,” I grinned, “not the worst time I ever had in my
life.” I was sweating like a guy who just got a
reprieve and escaped the chair. As my breathing slowly
returned to normal, I knew I had to gamble with her.
“Look, Andrea,” I said softly, “I can’t take this. I’ve
got to make love to you.”
Andrea barely shook her head no. “I can’t do it. I
can’t fuck men.”
“Why not?” My question was sincere.
She answered just as sincerely, “for the same reason
you can’t.”
“But that’s not fair,” I protested, “Men don’t turn me
on.”
Andrea smiled sweetly. “I rest my case.”
I knew she meant it. Any fantasies I might have
harbored about being such a great lover that I could
fuck a lesbian back to the straight life quickly
evaporated. I rubbed and squeezed my faltering prick,
helping it come down slowly and glanced back at Andrea.
I watched her fingers move in slow, sensuous circles
around her erect nipples, my hopes of sucking those
beauties fading like my cock. “You’re right,” I finally
nodded, “I’m sorry, that was unfair of me.”
Andrea shrugged and smiled, almost sadly, I thought.
Then, regaining her usual cheerfulness, lifted her eyes
and swept them over my naked body. “No control, huh,
big boy,” she joked, “you really let things get, as
they say, out of hand. Look at the mess you made.”
“Mess? What mess,” I countered, rubbing my globs of cum
into my body? “I don’t see any mess.”
Andrea laughed and eased out of the chair. Her panties
were still pulled to one side of her cunt, but she made
no attempt to cover it. She moved over to me and took
my arm, pulling me up. “C’mon, sport, let’s hose you
off.”
“Oh, please, no,” I groaned, resisting her gentle tugs
on my arm. “I can’t move. I’m stuck. Cum does that, you
know.”
“No, I don’t know.”
I opened one eye and gave her my best skeptical look.
“Well you can stew in your own juices if you want, I’m
going to take a shower.”
I opened my other eye. “Is that an invitation?”
“You want it engraved on your forehead?” Then, glancing
down at my shriveled dick, added, “Obviously it’s too
late to engrave it on your foreskin.”
I persuaded my limp body to rise and swung my legs off
the bed. Andrea was still holding my arm and I made no
move to pull it away, enjoying what little contact she
allowed. From my sitting position, I let my eyes slowly
wander up her body and just shook my head, sighing
loudly.
“Oh, come on,” Andrea chided, “I’m sure this wasn’t the
first time a lady asked you to take matters into your
own hands.”
“No,” I confessed, “but when I did, I knew things were
just beginning, not coming to screeching halt like
this.”
Andrea thought about it for a second and shook her
head, understanding. “Okay,” she nodded, “tells you
what. You want to take off the rest of my clothes?”
“Coals to Newcastle,” I intoned.
“Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll take it.”
“Somehow I figured that.”
I got off the bed and, turning her slightly, got down
on my knees and looped my thumbs in the waistband of
her panties and began to pull them off. “Crumbs,” I
mumbled, sliding her sopping panties down her sheer
nylons.
“Be happy for small favors,” Andrea casually reminded
me. She stepped out of her panties and planted her feet
on either side of me.
Leaning in toward her, my face just inches away from
her beautiful, juice drenched pussy, I reached for the
small wire closure of her garter and slowly unfastened
it, closing my eyes so I could inhale the sweet, musky,
heady fragrance of her flared cunt. With the first
garter clasp undone, I slid my hand between her warm
thighs to reach the back garter. Andrea stiffened. I
stopped. And looked up at her. “Did I hurt you,” I
asked softly?
Andrea shook her head curtly. “No.”
In that moment, I instantly realized that her shtick
wasn’t an act. She genuinely abhorred the sexual touch
of a man. I withdrew my hand and stood up, moving
around to her back to unhook her garter belt. “I think
we can get this off all in one piece,” I said
cheerfully, trying to regain our earlier mood. I peeled
the garter belt off and pulled it down with her
stockings still attached. I helped her step out of her
stockings and she smiled at me. She knew I understood.
And I knew she knew I knew.
We showered together, but it was infinitely more
hygienic than erotic. Andrea soaped my entire body with
a washcloth, not her hand and when she sudsed my cock
and balls and I started to grow an uncontrollable
boner, she slapped my cock playfully and told me to cut
it out. Oh, Christ, would that I could. She allowed me
to wash her back, with a washcloth, of course, but not
her breasts and certainly not her pussy.
When we finished, I padded back to the bedroom while
Andrea lingered in the bathroom, doing whatever women
do in bathrooms so long. I was almost finished dressing
when she finally came back and paused in the door for a
moment, watching me.
“Where are you going,” she asked softly?
I turned to Andrea’s voice, about to answer when, as
she did so often to me, nearly took my breath away. She
was radiant; a vision; an absolute goddamned goddess.
Her hair was piled high on her head and her freshly
scrubbed face glowed angelically. She was wearing a
tantalizing black lace nightie that hugged every curve
and nuance of her body denied me. “Jesus Christ,” I
muttered, wanting to cry out of frustration, “How can
you keep doing this to me?”
Andrea swallowed. “Do what,” she asked innocently? “I
just want to know why you’re getting dressed. Aren’t
you going to stay?”
“Andrea, Andrea,” I repeated softly, shaking my head,
“I can’t. Uh-uh, no way. It would not be humanly
possible for me to get into bed with you and keep my
hands to myself, much less my dick which has a mind of
its own.”
Andrea lowered her eyes for several moments and then
silently looked up at me. Her beautiful eyes were
clouded and a small tear ran down her cheek. She took a
deep breath and let it out slowly. “Mick,” she finally
whispered, a subtle, ironic smile forming on her lips,
“I’m sorry. I can’t apologize for who or what I am, but
I am sorry. I know this is going to sound crazy but,
you’re the best friend I’ve ever had in my whole,
miserable life. And I love you, I really do.”
I let my jacket slide out of my hand and I moved across
the room to her. Hesitating, just a heartbeat, I put my
arms around her and pulled her close to me, hugging her
tightly. “Listen, babe,” I whispered in her ear, “you
want to hear crazy? I love you, too. I don’t think I’ve
loved anyone as much as I do you.”
“Stay tonight. Please, tell me you’ll stay tonight.”
I did. We slept curled up all night on fresh smooth
silk sheets with her warm, lush, black laced body
spooned into mine. I never laid a finger on her. And it
wasn’t easy. In the morning we showered and dressed and
went to work like Mr. and Mrs. America.
**
The weeks that followed were sheer hell. We still
lunched together everyday and occasionally had dinner.
And the fun was always there. Always. And I was
absolutely obsessed with Andrea, thinking about her
every waking moment. But I went on a fucking binge,
nailing anything and everything that had a warm cunt
and a willing disposition. I even fucked a fifty-five
year old grandmother who lived in my building. And she
wasn’t half bad.
I went to a therapist. She told me that I was obsessed
with Andrea because I couldn’t have her and was
punishing myself for some deep feelings of guilt I
harbored since childhood. She recommended I begin
intensive psychotherapy and suggested sex therapy would
be a good idea as well. I ended up fucking my therapist
right there in her office. She was, as Andrea noted, a
screamer and scratcher.
Andrea and I laughed about it as I sat on her bed and
she tended to the fingernail wounds the therapist
inflicted on my back. We shared our stories of misery;
Andrea confessing that she was having casual sex with a
few ladies, but it wasn’t doing much for her. She went
back to painting at night. And her work reflected her
mood. Dark, brooding colors and angular strokes where
once there was softness and light. In truth, though,
the work was some of her best.
It was that night that Andrea proposed an idea that she
felt might work for both of us. She suggested a third
party. I didn’t immediately warm to that idea; it meant
that my chances of making love to her, not a surrogate,
were really out of the question. But Andrea turned on
the sell. She knew, intimately, several beautiful women
who were bisexual. If she could convince them to join
us, then I would really be making love to her through
them.
“And you don’t think you would be remotely jealous
watching me fuck their brains out?” I questioned.
“How could I possibly be jealous knowing how satisfied
you’d be,” she answered logically. “What do you say,
huh, you want to try it?”
I looked at her and grinned. “Okay, but who gets her
first? I hate sloppy seconds.”
**
Two nights later, Andrea introduced me to Ginny. She
was, as Andrea described, absolutely ravishing. We had
a long, casual, stressless dinner and really hit it
off. Through the dimsum and the egg drop soup and
entree, I enjoyed catching Andrea’s eye. She would lift
an eyebrow, questioningly, nodding her head oh so
subtly to Ginny. I nodded. She’ll do.
But things didn’t quite work out as I had fantasized.
Ginny much preferred Andrea to me. Opening our second
bottle of Champagne, we all retired to Andrea’s
bedroom, Ginny and Andrea holding each other’s hand, me
following behind with the bottle and glasses like an
annoyed waiter.
Out of nothing more than Christian charity, I’m sure,
they allowed me to watch them make love. Ginny, naked,
laid on top, while Andrea, wearing her customary
delicate lace garter belt and ultra sheer stockings,
had her legs wrapped around Ginny’s legs and her arms
wrapped around the redhead’s back. And they kissed.
Deeply. Tenderly. Passionately. Breast to beautiful
breast, belly to belly, pussy to pussy, they made love
slowly and exquisitely, unhurried by their rising
passions, unmindful of my presence.
Like a graceful cobra, Ginny’s body undulated against
Andrea’s as they kissed, her rigid red nipples flicking
across Andrea’s, her thick, flaming red pubic carpet
grinding in slow, deliberate circles against Andrea’s
downy pubes, her long, slender legs rubbing sensuously
against Andrea’s silky smooth stockings.
Watching them melt together as one body, listening to
their soft, sexy moans and urgent whimpers, inhaling
the erotic aroma of their mingling juices, I suddenly
realized just how presumptuous and incredibly
egocentric I was even suggesting to Andrea that she may
be jealous watching me make love to another woman.
Because the opposite was certainly true. It was I who
was jealous, I who was envious. And I who was going to
do something about it.
Determined to be more participant than observer, I
quickly drained another glass of Champagne and got
undressed. By now, Ginny had slid down Andrea’s body
and was feasting on her full tits, kissing and
nibbling, licking and sucking one of Andrea’s
deliciously sensitive nipples while her fingers
squeezed and taunted the other one. Although I was not
half as aroused as I thought I would be watching these
two incredibly beautiful women pleasuring each other, I
wasn’t exactly turned off, either.
Pumping a little more life into the old pecker, I slid
into bed next to them and let my free hand wander over
Ginny’s ripe, hairy ass. Enviously, I watched as Ginny
relentlessly squeezed Andrea’s porcelain white boob and
slowly drew her fleshy rigid nipple deep into her
mouth. There was no doubt Ginny knew what she was
doing. Andrea closed her eyes and groaned, lifting her
hand to lovingly stroke Ginny’s thick red hair.
“Oh, yes,” Andrea moaned, drawing in a deep breath and
letting it shudder out, “yes, oh, yes, suck them, baby,
suck my nipples.”
Encouraged, Ginny groaned in response, gathered
Andrea’s tit in both her hands, squeezed her warm,
milky globe upwards and sunk her teeth into Andrea’s
throbbing nipple. Andrea screamed hoarsely, grabbing a
handful of Ginny’s hair and pushing her face down on
her tit. “Oh, shit, yes,” Andrea gasped, “yes, baby,
bite them, bite my nipples, yes, do it.”
If I wasn’t completely turned on before, I was now. My
cock sprang to attention and screamed at me to get
busy. Eagerly, I slid my hand down Ginny’s firm,
perspiring ass and my fingers invaded her hairy, creamy
slit. But although Ginny made no effort to pull away,
she didn’t exactly respond with abandon to my intrusive
fingers sloshing around in her snatch. She was lost in
Andrea and I knew it.
With Andrea’s hands guiding her head, Ginny switched
tits and attacked Andrea’s other nipple. That’s when I
noticed a small trickle of blood snaking around
Andrea’s swollen areola and run down the slope of her
tit. Alarmed, I quickly glanced up at Andrea’s face and
was instantly mesmerized by her joyful expression; her
eyes were closed and her beautiful, sensual lips
fluctuated between a half smile and a half grimace as
Ginny helped her cross the blurred border between pain
and pleasure.
And then Ginny moved down to eat her pussy.
It was, I admit now, one of the most beautiful sights I
had ever witnessed. Andrea raised her knees, freely
offering to Ginny’s mouth the source of her femininity.
Ginny accepted, resting her head between Andrea’s soft,
raised thighs and began slowly, gently, tenderly
kissing the moist, aromatic folds of Andrea’s flared
labia. Biting her lip, Andrea moaned softly, letting
her breath out in a long, staccato sigh. She closed her
eyes and lowered her hands to Ginny’s head, burying her
long fingers in Ginny’s thick, flaming red hair to
better guide her lover’s tongue through the dark,
mysterious valley of her passions.
My cock grew as hard as pig iron as I watched Ginny’s
glistening red lips and the tip of her firm, pink
tongue slide in slow, hypnotic circles around Andrea’s
receptive cunt. I watched the subtle movements of
Andrea’s hips, rising and falling -2l-2 rhythmically
against Ginny’s hungry mouth. And I was, I suddenly
realized, incredibly happy. I moved up the bed, closer
to Andrea’s ecstatic, angelic face and gently stroked
her long blonde hair.
Her eyes were still closed as she concentrated on the
exquisite sensations rising in concentric waves from
between her legs. Her lips were dry; she licked them.
Her breath was choppy; she tried to catch it. And her
nipples, her long, thick, rock-hard crimson nipples
pulsated visibly on her flushed, perspiring breasts,
pulsating in perfect symphony to her exhilarating,
accelerating heartbeat.
Lovingly, I stroked Andrea’s hair again and she barely
turned to me. Her eyes fluttered half open and she
momentarily smiled at me. Then, drawing a long, labored
breath, she turned away and again surrendered herself,
completely, to the mounting insistence of Ginny’s
penetrating tongue.
“How does it feel, Andy? Tell me how it feels,” I
whispered.
Andrea groaned loudly, trying to respond, but couldn’t
catch her breath long enough to speak. When she finally
found the strength and breath, she half turned her head
back to me. “Oh, God,” she gasped, licking her lips,
“oh God, Mick, oh, it…it’s incredible…”
“Yes, yes, my beautiful baby,” I encouraged, “she’s so
beautiful and she’s fucking you, Andy, fucking you with
her sweet, gorgeous tongue.”
“Oh god, oh, oh, yes, fuck me, fuck me, precious,”
Andrea whimpered the words as her head began thrashing
from side to side on the soft, silk pillow.
And then Ginny picked up the chant. As her lips and
tongue moved in ever quickening circles around Andrea’s
unbearably excited pussy, Ginny groaned loudly,
gutturally, animalistically and plunged her stiffened
tongue deep, deep into Andrea’s honey-dipped tunnel,
swirling it madly around Andrea’s steamy, slippery,
exquisitely tight cavern, greedily lapping the sweet,
fragrant juices freely flowing from the soft tissues
buried within her.
Andrea screamed. Her thighs snapped shut on Ginny’s
head. Her hips rose from the bed and she pushed her
pussy up tighter against Ginny’s mouth as if that
movement would propel the other woman’s rigid tongue
deeper into her. Andrea’s hands, which had been guiding
Ginny’s head, now went their separate ways; one to her
nipples, which she squeezed and pulled mercilessly, the
other to her cunt. Her fingertips sought and found her
neglected, excruciatingly sensitive clit and began
flicking it.
Watching them, entwined, moving sensually as one,
listening to their primal, urgent lust sounds, smelling
the overpowering aroma generated by the incredible
sexual intensity these two -2″-2 beautiful women
conjured in each other’s secretions was overwhelming
me. My swollen balls ached and my stiff cock danced and
throbbed uncontrollably as if frantically trying to
draw my attention to it. How desperately I wanted my
flesh to join theirs, how deeply I resented being
excluded from their passions, yet, confusing as it was,
my gratification seemed somehow inexorably bound to
Andrea’s as she lingered precariously on the precipice
of ultimate pleasure.
My decision was made. Uncomfortable as I was, I moved
down the bed and, kneeling next to Andrea’s gyrating
hips, grabbed her thighs and gently pried them away
from Ginny’s head. Through her taut black stockings, I
could feel the tension in Andrea’s smooth muscles, I
could feel the heat rising from her body and,
vicariously as it was, I could participate in Andrea’s
orgiastic joy as Ginny’s talented mouth sought to
administer her coup de grace.
Released from the suffocating constraints of Andrea’s
thighs, Ginny raised her head momentarily to recover
her breath and stamina. Her entire face glistened with
Andrea’s juices and for a split second, when her eyes
met mine, I read in them an understanding and a mutual
appreciation of our distinct roles in this tableau.
But even this instant of neglect was too much for
Andrea. “No, no, oh God, don’t stop, don’t stop,” she
whimpered loudly like a child deprived of her favorite
toy. “Fuck me, oh, please, fuck me.”
And as I regripped Andrea’s thighs, prying them further
apart, Ginny once again lowered her lips to Andrea’s.
She removed Andrea’s fingers from her inflamed clitoris
and replaced them with her own, gently folding back the
delicate layer of tissue still covering its base and
exposing the entire length of her glistening, deep pink
erection. Andrea’s hand immediately retreated to her
unattended breast and squeezed both of her tits
together, frantically milking them upwards toward her
throbbing nipples.
Ginny wasted no time picking up where she had stopped.
Separating Andrea’s engorged lips with her fingertips,
she drew the tip of her stiffened tongue slowly up the
entire length of Andrea’s cleft and flicked the tip of
her clit with it. Once, twice, three times.
Again, Andrea screamed. Biting her dry, parched lower
lip, she valiantly tried to stifle it. What she
couldn’t stifle were the uncontrollably violent
shuddering movements of her hips as the thousands of
overwhelmed nerve fibers centered in her clitoris
suddenly electrified her entire body. She tried to pull
away; I held her thighs firmly. But despite my grip,
her hips continued gyrating wildly, yet, remarkably,
Ginny’s tongue stayed right with her. -2X-2
Groaning deeply, Ginny continued flicking Andrea’s clit
with her tongue while her free hand quickly moved
between her own legs, through her thick, rich tangle of
bright burnt orange pubic hair and she began stroking
herself in concert to Andrea’s movements.
Instinctively, Ginny knew, as only another woman could
know, the precise plateau of Andrea’s ecstatic tension
and what was needed to nudge her lover over the
indefinable, elastic, synaptic line separating her
exquisite, gut wrenching torment from mind reeling
bliss. And armed with her infallible, practiced
instinct, Ginny’s frenzied tongue retreated from
Andrea’s clit to be instantly replaced by her soft,
honey coated mouth.
Her flushed cheeks hollowed and she slowly drew
Andrea’s pulsating erection between her lips and
lovingly sucked it into her mouth. As she did, Andrea’s
entire body jerked spasmodically. She groaned hoarsely
and gutturally as she fought for breath and fought to
hang on to the last vestige of nerve torturing
excitement before surrendering to the inevitable
ecstatic maelstrom awaiting her final consent.
But consent was no longer hers to grant. It was Ginny’s
and Ginny was extracting it. Her lips still held
Andrea’s clit captive and I could see her delicate
facial muscles twitch excitedly as she vibrated the tip
of tongue over Andrea’s inflamed penile button.
An instant later, Andrea came.
Her first orgasm was capitulation, a groaning, sighing,
whimpering acknowledgement that she could no longer
hold back the intensely electrifying sensations
radiating from deep within her womb. Her second orgasm
was thunderous. Crying out, fighting consciousness
itself, her eyes rolled back and her spine stiffened,
arching and rising from the bed as every muscle in her
body went rigid, suspended in time, as wave after
ecstatic shock wave surged through her nerves and
coursed through her veins. Her body shook and trembled,
urging every minute trace of pleasure from her limbs.
“Oh god! Oh god! No, no, no! Oh god!” Andrea gasped
over and over like an hypnotic mantra, a chant that
only encouraged Ginny to inflict still more, heightened
pleasures.
Literally panting, Ginny quickly lifted her sopping
face from between Andrea’s thighs, withdrew her
drenched hand from between her legs and painted
Andrea’s gaping, sensitive labia with own juices. Again
Andrea’s entire body shuddered and Ginny smiled.
“Now my beautiful lover,” Ginny gasped, “now, baby, now
I’m really going to make you cum.”
“Yes, yes, lovey, yes…”
I knew what was coming. Quickly repositioning myself, I
reached under Andrea’s suspended body and gripped her
tight buttocks, separating her cheeks as I lifted her
higher off the bed. Ginny cast a quick, appreciative
look to me and, turning all of her attention back to
Andrea, positioned her shiny middle finger against
Andrea’s tiny pink sphincter. Teasingly, she painted it
with her own sweet lubricants and then, without the
slightest hesitation, eased her perfectly manicured
fingertip into Andrea’s willing asshole.
Whimpering uncontrollably, Andrea squeezed her eyes
shut and lost every trace of breath in her lungs as
Ginny slowly, excruciatingly slowly, eased her long,
tapered finger into her tight rear canal. I watched,
breathlessly, fascinated, as she just as slowly
withdrew the one finger and reinserted two. The two
then became three, mercilessly stretching Andrea’s tiny
hole as her fingers bored deeper and deeper into her
while her thumb barely flicked Andrea’s elongated,
pulsing clitoris.
“Oh god…” Andrea screamed, “Fuck me…FUCK ME!!!”
I don’t know how she did it, but Andrea suddenly shot
upright, her hands lashed out, grabbing Ginny’s hair
and viciously pulled Ginny’s head down to her pussy.
With three fingers plunging in and out of her ass and
her thumb burrowing into her tunnel, Ginny went wild,
licking, lapping, sucking, eating Andrea’s cunt with
complete animal abandon.
Still clinging to Ginny’s long hair, Andrea fell back
on the bed, screaming, crying, whimpering, thrashing
around with equal abandon until, a moment later, her
body stiffened again, wracked by one tremendous orgasm
after another.
When the last spasm finally subsided, her body went
limp and tears flooded her eyes. They ran in graceful
rivulets down her cheeks and I felt like crying with
her. I gently lowered her buttocks back down on the bed
and Ginny gently withdrew her face and fingers from her
lover and looked up at her. Smiling. Tears of
empathetic joy filling her eyes, too.
Andrea tugged gently on Ginny’s hair, urging her
forward and Ginny eagerly complied. Still kneeling
between Andrea’s thighs, she inched forward and lay
down on top of her. Belly to belly, breast to breast,
Andrea wrapped her long legs around Ginny’s and her
arms encircled the other woman’s sweat soaked back.
Then, between their equally labored breaths, their lips
slowly merged, their tongues sought one another’s and
they kissed lovingly.
I, quite literally, was odd man out. I probably should
have beaten a hasty, polite retreat at that point, but
fool that I was, I instead moved back up the bed and
watched Andrea tenderly lick her fragrant juices from
Ginny’s face. As I watched them, slowly stroking my
panicked prick, Andrea spotted me out of the corner of
her eye and, easing her lips away from Ginny’s, turned
her -2D-2 head toward me. She slid her hand from
Ginny’s back, groped for my hand and, finding it, she
squeezed it hard.
“Hi,” she whispered, barely audibly, and smiled so
fucking delightfully at me.
“Hi, yourself,” I smiled back, “was it good for you,
too?”
Still breathing hard, Andrea laughed her cute, tinkling
laugh and Ginny turned to me, too, resting her cheek on
Andrea’s and shared our joke.
“So glad you could join us, Mick,” Ginny teased. She
glanced down at my stiff friend in my hand and I knew
she wanted to laugh at my condition. “Oh,” she chided
playfully, “and look at your poor little cock. All
dressed up and no place to go.”
“Fuck you,” I laughed back, only half joking, but the
words were barely out of my mouth as Ginny reached out
and drew her fingernails over my swollen, incredibly
sensitive dickhead. I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Ooooo, sensitive little bugger, isn’t it,” Ginny
continued teasing.
“Watch what you’re calling ‘little’,” I shot back,
“we’re talking ten inches of dangling death here.”
“In your dreams, sailor.”
Still stroking Ginny’s long, lush hair, Andrea laughed.
“Will you two cut it out.”
Ginny smiled again and, raising herself up slightly
from Andrea’s equally sweat soaked body, reached for my
knob again. I jerked away, grabbing her wrist just
inches from my dick. “Oh, come on,” she chided, “I just
want to apologize to the little man.”
“You bitch,” I grinned, finally releasing her wrist and
edging back toward her waiting fingers. “Don’t you just
wish you had one as nice?”
Ginny’s fingers slowly encircled my cock, but her face
and eyes went back to Andrea. “Only to fuck this
beautiful creature,” she whispered to Andrea and kissed
her gently on her closed mouth.
“Well in that case, you can always use mine,” I
volunteered, “I don’t mind, really. It’s the least I
can do.”
Andrea smiled broadly beneath Ginny’s lips. “Don’t
start, Mick.”
“So who’s starting,” I replied innocently. “My life’s
motto has always been, why let a good hard-on go to
waste?”
Andrea looked at me with that now familiar glint in her
eye. She squeezed my hand and then suddenly withdrew
hers, placing it on the soft underside of Ginny’s
pendulous breast. “Yeah,” she agreed softly, “why let a
perfectly good hard-on go to waste?”
Andrea’s hand moved to the top of Ginny’s breast and
the tip of her forefinger casually outlined the
redhead’s puffy areola. In response, Ginny squeezed my
cock harder. It felt great. She closed her eyes and
smiled, concentrating on the feeling of Andrea’s light
touch traipsing around her nipple. “Yeah,” she finally
breathed, “that’s what I always say, too.”
Shifting slightly, Andrea lowered her hand to her own
breast and pushing it up, touched her still rigid
nipple to Ginny’s, drawing it around her areola in
slow, tender circles as she had done with her finger.
Andrea continued to entrance the other woman’s nipple
with her own and Ginny began to stroke my angry monster
with some sincerity. Drawing a breath, she half opened
one eye and looked at me. “I have two tits, you know,”
she grinned, closing her eye again.
“You have enough for four,” I reminded her.
Grinning, Ginny roughly tweaked my cock and I yelped
despite myself.
Reluctantly, I withdrew my exasperated pole from her
hand and eased myself up. Gently grabbing Ginny’s
shoulders, I lifted her from Andrea’s body and, even
more gently, rolled her on her back between us. Her
long, thick red hair and large hoop earrings framed her
face perfectly on the pillow and, although I never
thought her quite as beautiful as Andrea, Ginny was
certainly a striking woman with a full, incredibly sexy
figure.
For the first time in what must have been hours, Andrea
was now able to shift her body and flex her long,
stocking clad legs. I could tell by the way she moved
that her muscles were stiff and sore and I made a
mental note to offer her, later, what I was sure would
be a strictly therapeutic massage. But at this moment,
the only therapeutic massage I was interested in was
the one Ginny could give my swollen tube still dancing
between my legs.
Flat on her back between Andrea and me, Ginny pulled us
in and we both made love to her. We kissed her,
alternately and simultaneously, sharing her soft, full
lips and warm sweet tongue. Our tongues mingled with
Ginny’s and, occasionally, with each others. To my
surprise and encouragement, Andrea didn’t seem to mind.
There was hope yet, I thought.
Propelled by Ginny’s subtle movements, our hands each
found one of her delightfully freckled breasts, Andrea
the right, me -20-2 the left, and we squeezed and
kneaded her warm, resilient flesh in unison. Ginny’s
nipples, although not half as long nor quite as thick
as Andrea’s, seemed to constrict upwards and darken in
color as they responded to our fingers.
Andrea and I quickly learned that Ginny made the most
delightful love sounds when she was on the receiving
end of sexual excitement. The degree of pleasure she
was feeling was instantly echoed by a sexy “hmmmmming”
sound she produced deep in her throat. The pitch, depth
and length of her “hmmmmmm” indicated the exact
intensity of her arousal. Later, we would learn, her
“hmmmms” would become “ahhhhhs” and her “ahhhhhs” would
become “ohhhhhs” as she crossed each threshold of ever
mounting joy.
I left Ginny’s lips to Andrea and moved down to kiss
and suck her sensitive tit. Her hand moved with me,
gently guiding my head, then continuing down her
smooth, firm body, ultimately disappearing between her
parted legs. Squeezing her very generous tit between
both my hands, I trailed the tip of my tongue around
her deep pink areola, circling in closer to her nipple
and finally sucking it in firmly between my lips.
Ginny liked it. She groaned, “hmmmmm,” deeply into
Andrea’s mouth, urging both of us on.
The feeling of Ginny’s responsive, slightly salty
nipple in my mouth was wonderful. Listening to her
“hmmmmms” of pleasure, my fingers continued to knead
and squeeze her soft, damp tit in subtle upward milking
motions as I swirled my tongue around her rigid bud,
sucking and licking it slowly, unhurriedly, deriving as
much pleasure from it as I hoped I imparted.
A few moments later, Andrea’s face joined mine at
Ginny’s breast and she smiled at me. I released my lip
lock on Ginny’s nipple and, still milking her tit,
offered her white-tipped nipple to Andrea’s waiting
lips. Then, like two high school sweethearts sharing
our first single soda straw, we alternated sucking on
Ginny’s turgid nipple, switching breasts after a few
minutes and sucking on the other.
“Hmmmmmm, hmmmmmm, hmmmmmm,” Ginny groaned. Her hand,
still busy between her legs, began to pick up pace
while her other hand gently urged Andrea’s head to move
down her body.
But this time I was not about to be denied. As I
continued roughly fondling Ginny’s tits, I stretched
out lengthwise on the bed and pressed by body against
her side. The feel of her soft, warm, moist skin
against my dick was immediately gratifying, but I
wasn’t going to settle for a little frottage, I wanted
in. Some place. Any place. Desperately. Andrea took
hold of Ginny’s hand and gently lifted it away from her
pussy, replacing it with her own long fingers and
stroked Ginny’s slit with the same practiced
masturbatory rhythms.
“Hmmmmm, hmmmmm, hmmmmm, hmmmmm,” Ginny groaned, the
sound high pitched and staccato as Andrea’s fingers
moved deftly in and out of her delicate folds.
Then, looking at me and smiling, Andrea lifted Ginny’s
drenched hand to her mouth and seductively licked her
fingers clean of every thick morsel of Ginny’s heady
honey.
“You bitch,” I moaned, jealously watching Andrea’s
tongue corkscrew around Ginny’s glistening fingers.
Andrea smiled. When she was through vacuuming Ginny’s
hand, she placed the hand firmly on her own breast and
Ginny’s fingers immediately sought her nipple. And then
something remarkable happened. As if clearly reading my
mind and gauging my desires, Andrea withdrew her
sopping fingers from Ginny’s snatch and, reaching
across her, brushed the delicious juices over my lips.
That was all the invitation I needed. Rising up, I
quickly grabbed Ginny’s hips, pulling her away from
Andrea. “I’m going to fuck you, bitch,” I grunted to
Ginny, “I’m going to fuck you till you scream for
mercy.” And far more roughly than I intended, I turned
Ginny over and yanked her hips up into a kneeling
position, securing her firm, rounded ass in front of
me. I slid my hand down Ginny’s smooth ass to her
drenched, steaming, hair-matted pussy and squeezed her
lips. Obligingly, Ginny parted her thighs for me as she
repositioned herself, arching her back like a sensuous
supple cat as she lowered her face to the silk pillow.
Out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed Andrea’s
approving smile as she slid slightly away from Ginny,
relinquishing the redhead entirely to me for my own
selfish gratification. And, believe me, I wasted no
time seeking the gratification long denied me. Quickly,
I moved up behind Ginny, guiding my throbbing steel
shaft down the crack of her firm ass to her eager,
waiting cunt.
But Ginny was even more impatient than I was. Her hand
shot up from between her legs, grabbing my cock,
pulling it, guiding it into the hot, wet, swollen folds
of her excited cunt. “Come on, you cocksucker,” she
hissed between tense, short breaths, “fuck me, fuck
me!” She positioned my throbbing cockhead against her
waiting hole and, grabbing her hips, I plunged my
raging prick into her in one, swift, violent thrust of
my hips.
Ginny screamed, then gasped, as I pulled out and thrust
again. Deeper. Harder. Again I pulled out. Again Ginny
gasped. And again I plunged my pig-iron cock into her,
my stomach smashing against her ass with each thrust. I
released her hips and bent down over her, grabbing
handfuls of her balloon like tits. I squeezed and
kneaded her soft, firm fleshy mounds as I continued
fucking her from behind with all the strength and
stamina I could muster.
As Ginny groaned deeper and louder with each thrust of
my mindless cock, I glanced up at Andrea. She was at
the edge of the bed, legs spread, furiously
masturbating. I was sweating like a stuck pig, barely
able to catch my breath, but the sight of Andrea’s
fingers dancing over her clit made me smile. Through
half shut eyes, Andrea smiled back. I flicked my head
toward her and, as always, she immediately understood.
In unison, as I pulled Ginny’s body up by her tits and
repositioned her, Andrea, on her back, slid under her.
Still holding Ginny’s tits, I slowly lowered her
engorged, flaming nipple into Andrea’s waiting lips and
watched as she sucked it deep into her mouth.
I could feel my balls tighten. I was going to cum. But
that was the last thing I wanted just then. I gritted
my teeth, fighting it, trying every trick I knew to
stay my synapses from their inevitable, blissful, mind-
numbing explosion. But my willpower was slipping away
with each cock thrust into Ginny’s tight, grasping
hole. So I pulled out. Glistening in the lamplight, my
drenched pole danced and twitched, begging for relief.
“No, no, you cocksucking asshole,” Ginny moaned, trying
to gulp air into her fiery lungs, “don’t stop, don’t
stop!”
“You want to fuck,” I gasped, “this is how you fuck!”
And, grabbing her hips firmly, I raised myself up and
pressed the smooth, shiny, bulbous head of my
extraordinarily eager prick against the purple-pink
sphincter of her tiny asshole.
“No, not that way,” Ginny gasped, “not my asshole, you
motherfucker, not that way.” But her protest only
fueled my desire. I looped one arm under her bent waist
and held her firmly as my other hand slowly eased my
cock into her reluctant back road. Ginny tried to
squirm away, but I held her tighter, pressing my
prickhead harder against her unwilling hole. As she
gasped again, her sphincter muscles involuntarily
surrendered and I finally succeeded invading her
asshole.
Quarter inch by quarter inch, I squeezed my throbbing
cock deeper into her, each quarter inch coaxing longer,
louder, more demanding groans from Ginny. Her
incredibly tight asshole gripped and squeezed my cock
every inch of the way, heightening the already
indescribable sensations flooding my swirling brain. I
had to have it all. Almost unconsciously, I withdrew,
slightly, gathered my strength, then thrust into her
all the way, my heavy balls slapping against her
gushing pussy.
Ginny screamed. Loudly. Her body bolted up against the
invasion of my fat prick all the way up her tiny
asshole. But I held on. She plunged down again into
Andrea, wiggling and bucking and gyrating her ass
against me. And I fucked her. Hard. My cock plunging up
her ass with each violent thrust of my hips, my balls
slapping and slamming rhythmically against her cunt.
As I furiously fucked Ginny’s ass, Andrea, my sweet,
sweet Andrea, not about to let an opportunity like this
go to waste, twisted her body beneath us, sliding her
beautiful face between Ginny’s thighs and began licking
and sucking the redhead’s pussy. Ginny, responded
immediately, gasping and groaning, she lowered her body
down to Andrea’s, her mouth seeking and finding
Andrea’s willing cunt.
When God created fucking, this is what he had in mind.
The smell of them enveloped me. The sound of their
mutual cunt lapping and their mingled gasps and grunts,
cries and whimpers excited me beyond any fantasy. The
sight of their perfect bodies entwined in uninhibited,
lustful, inverted lovemaking fueled a frenzy in me I
had never before experienced. And my cock, my patient,
obedient cock, grasped and squeezed mercilessly by each
screaming thrust into Ginny’s velvety tight asshole —
my cock came to the verge — and I knew I had to
finally surrender.
Panting like an animal, fighting, fighting, my hips
reared back, I grabbed Ginny’s body, plunging into her
hole with all my strength. Ginny pushed back, meeting
my thrust, challenging me. Then, slamming my eyes shut,
gasping for air, my entire body stiffened and my balls
erupted, wracking my body and brain simultaneously as I
came like an explosion. Instantaneously, my cock
regrouped, convulsed, and I shot another salvo of hot
cum deep into Ginny’s receptive ass. I could feel her
rectal muscles grasp me, milk me, urge my cock to shoot
again. And I did. And as I did, she did, too.
With Andrea’s lips locked on her clit, Ginny suddenly
stiffened upright, holding the tension, holding it,
holding it and then, her body shaking and shuddering
uncontrollably, she came, screaming and gasping in the
same breath. Andrea’s arms encircled her hips, pulling
her dripping pussy back down to her hungry mouth. But
Ginny couldn’t take any more.
She jerked her pussy away from Andrea and, as she did,
my cock squished out from her asshole, falling, like a
wounded soldier into Andrea’s sweat-soaked hair. I left
it there, feeling the warm softness of her rich blonde
hair against my cum coated cock. If Andrea noticed, she
didn’t say anything. And we all just smiled the
mindless, blissful, wordless smile of satisfied lovers.
It seemed like forever until we could all catch our
breaths. When we did, we slowly, painfully, jokingly
repositioned our spent bodies on our backs, lengthwise
along the bed. It came as no surprise to me that Ginny
was in the middle, separating me from Andrea.
Giggling, Ginny turned her head to Andrea and they
kissed lightly. Then Ginny turned her head to me and we
kissed, too. I thought I could taste Andrea’s lips on
Ginny, but it was probably only my imagination. And I
wondered, lying there, I wondered when I would taste
her for myself.
We snuggled closer. Andrea shifted and raised her hand
to Ginny’s perspiring breast. I did the same with
Ginny’s other breast. Then slowly, I moved my hand
across to Andrea’s. And she didn’t pull away. Maybe
there was hope yet.