Sexual Solstice (First Class Woman)

by Tracey B. Bradley

  “Oh, it goes way, way back, too. I used to work at Nathan’s Original. God, I hope I didn’t turn him gay!”

  “Not from what I hear. You above the coach house?”

  “Yes.”

  “Us too. Listen, when we’ve all had a chance to slip out of these party duds, come to our room for a drink by the fire. We’re in the room at the end of the hall.”

  The evening wasn’t long as most had tired from too much Christmas merrymaking altogether, and before long the party had dwindled to a drunken few on Sofas in the parlour with Cliff’s parents telling stories.

  Gillian went back to the room, trying to figure out how she could make a drink before bed in someone else’s room sound somewhat logical to Val and Randy, but the room was empty. She changed quickly but left evidence that she hadn’t flown the coop, and then, in Jenny Pakham pyjamas she’d bought at Liberty’s the day before the trip, she padded to the end of the hall. Cecil and Ashley had the same idea and were well pyjama’d, him in silk shorts that showed off a pair of sturdy legs, perhaps the product of boys’ school rugby at some point, and a matching silk t-shirt that showed big nipples on a big chest, pointing downwards. Cecil was sitting in an easy chair and from time to time his balls would escape the leg of his shorts. Ashley had unknotted her bun and let her blonde hair fall down her back, her baby dolls seemed to be held aloft by ample breasts that required absolutely no means of suspension. Gillian suspected fake, but was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Ashley patted the empty end of the sofa for Gillian to come join her. And join her she did. Cecil jumped up. “Sorry for being so rude, let me get you a glass of something. Have you had the pink Veuve?”

  “Yes, and I’d love some more.”

  “We can drink a toast to Cliff and Randy and dreams coming true.”

  At these words Gillian felt a momentary jolt of sadness mixed with something that said life could indeed be good. If Cliff had struggled with his identity and come out the other side, perhaps better days were in store for Gillian.

  “So you’re married?” Gillian spoke into the space in front of her. She attempted to sound positive, fighting an encroaching heaviness at the suggestion.

  “Courting, as they say out here in Old Westbury,” Cecil said.

  Gillian wanted to warn Ashley that love, of mind, body and spirit would be all that mattered in the end. Let her find out for herself? Perhaps.

  “You’re tense,” Ashley noted, “Come closer, let me rub those shoulders. Cliff said you’d been going through a rough patch.”

  Gillian slid along the sofa to Ashley and turned her back towards her. “I guess a night in prison has sort of tied me up in knots. Still the Sergeant was so accommodating, and I’m sure very few in my circle can say they spent Christmas Eve in prison, although you can never be too sure.

  Ashley continued to gently rub Gillian’s shoulders, tucking Gillian well against her crotch and thighs, creating a cosy seat for Gillian. “God that feels good.”

  “Have some champers,” Cecil brought the drinks around in front. He stooped to give Gillian her glass and then leaned in and kissed her.

  “Oh!” Gillian said. “A pleasant treat.” And Cecil continued, slipping his tongue into her mouth and savouring the taste. “Mmmmm,” Gillian responded. She felt her body arch slightly, of its own accord, into Cecil’s warmth. Ashley didn’t seem to mind, in fact her hands responded by trailing to Gillian’s sides and then slowly moving under her arms and gently touching her breasts. Soon Gillian was wrapped in their warmth, Cecil on the sofa in front of her and Ashley’s breasts pressed into Gillian’s back, while she gently let her fingers explore Gillian’s nipples.

  Gillian wasn’t sure how to reciprocate and decided to go with the flow. She hadn’t had sex with someone of the same sex since she was seven, and back then, though everything was new, there wasn’t a heck of a lot to experiment on, or with. She enjoyed, in fact, loved, being held by another woman, someone who understood by virtue of who they were, what it meant to be part of the sisterhood. Yes, being held by a woman could somehow make the world seem right. However, having sex with another woman was a whole different kettle of fish. She let Ashley’s hands do the wandering, from breasts to tummy to vagina, and that was where Ashley seemed to have it in spades over any man that Gillian had been with. She was a sorceress of tenderness and touch when it came to stimulating Gillian. Gillian felt like a musical instrument being played by a master, and yet her top half was engaged in the hungry lips of Cecil, who now replaced Ashley’s hands with his own on Gillian’s breasts. Granted he was slightly rougher but at the same time the touch conjured up the differences that made men so alluring to Gillian––their roughness, their clumsiness, their ability to try to be as tender as they could. Once again Gillian was deep in the churning of sexual energy and release. And everything about the evening added up to her feeling loved: Val and Randy were somewhere close by, old beau Cliff, and his partner Chad were nearby, and Cecil and Ashley, who seemed to reflect Gillian and Edgar in the early days, minus Ashley’s enthusiasm to play with an extra partner, and a woman at that, enveloped Gillian in a sexual sandwich.

  Eventually Cecil was pushing his silk shorts down his thighs, revealing a cock that did not want out, the pressure of his boner fighting the elastic, until it sprang up. Gillian wanted to participate, give, not just receive and she disengaged from Cecil’s delicious kisses and with hands and tongue found her way to Cecil’s gorgeous cock. The inflated head looked like a child’s over-inflated toy, about to explode. She gently wrapped her mouth around the head, not sure how much of it she could take. And Cecil fell back, knees bent, thighs still together forcing his cock skyward as Gillian reached for it again, leaned into him and took him in her mouth. As she leaned forward she felt Ashley come under her from behind, lying on her back so that her face was at Gillian’s crotch. Ashley started to give Gillian what can only be described as a tongue job from heaven. As a result Gillian sucked harder on Cecil’s cock, but, with Ashley’s prodding, found herself thinking of Spokes’s fingers inside of her. It was odd, for all the sex she had had recently she thought back to Spokes. It was his cock she wanted, his warm body she wanted. She felt, from all of those years of being driven around the U.K., from nights at a West End play to weekends up to the lake district, Edinburgh and the Devon coast, that Spokes had been watching her and knew her almost better by now, than she knew herself. He had watched her act out the life of a society wife, with sufficient zeal, but no real enthusiasm. But now, here in this house, where answers were starting to fly at her, she let the pink Veuve relax her and let Ashley enjoy the fruits of her womanhood, and Cecil have the time of his life with what, she imagined, every man dreamed of––sex, with two women, at least.

  Meanwhile, Cliff related to Randy and Chad the monster of a Sergeant he had seen at the police station. Randy remembered Gillian’s instructions to be the immaculate guest and so he laughed and ooh’d and ahh’d at all the right moments, although he didn’t have to try because he really was in awe. And Cliff enjoyed explaining the what-might-have-beens while the men relaxed in the conservatory. “My God, when he stood up you could see his dick going almost down to his knee. He’d have stretch marks for sure if he wasn’t wearing a harness.”

  “Sounds like his harness was in the wrong place.” But Randy remembered what Gillian had told him about her encounter with Cliff so many years ago, and from what he could remember Cliff wasn’t lacking in that department. As the men spoke, their conversation became full of double entendre, and suggestiveness of what might come next. Randy ventured first. “Gillian has always had a thing for the well endowed. It may be her weakness.”

  Cliff blushed, not sure if this was a compliment. Chad butted in. “Well she did the right thing by sending Cliff over to our side. Did you ever have sex with her?––it’s obvious you fill the requirements from where I’m sitting.” Randy had crossed his legs, his ankle resting on his knee, and a distinct bulge now showing between his legs. “
Oh no,” he said, “I was already out and doing the rounds at Coney Island, Fire Island too.”

  “I think I recognise you.”

  “The only way you could be sure is if I put your dick in my mouth.” Randy slapped his hand over his mouth. “God, I’m sorry, I can’t believe I said that.”

  Cliff laughed. “It’s okay Randy, we can share. There’s lots of room in the bed, or the Jacuzzi, wherever you want to rest your weary bone.”

  “Such hospitality out here in the wilds of Old Westbury! I told Gillian I would do my best to be a gracious guest and I will certainly not let her down. If there is anything I can do to be a gracious guest, let me know.”

  “And if there is any hospitality that we can extend to you, our guest, your wish is our command.”

  “––enough.” Chad interrupted. “Too much chit chat, I think it’s time for a night cap, or at least some head. Come on.” The three men retired to Cliff and Chad’s room.

  As the men were preparing for a good soaking in the Jacuzzi, Val had brought her big banker back to the room in the hopes the others were preoccupied. If sex was described by flavours, this vanilla had very hot sauce poured on top. Val’s banker had her, heals in the air, while he rammed himself silly after working his thick member into her tight and horny hole. It was the end of a brief dry spell for Val––she felt like she’d been walking around with a sign on her head that said ‘please fuck me,’ or ‘temporarily celibate,’ and the more her banker pounded her, the more she wanted it. She wavered from numb to sore to desperately horny and steaming hot. At one point he poured bubbly over her and she practically cried out “Fuck me, fuck me harder, you banker prick. C’mon, occupy Wallstreeeeeet!” She was sure she’d hear a sizzle as the liquid hit her hot skin.

  At that very moment, Gillian was reaping all the pleasures that could be had when you are being serviced, or servicing, two generous and generously endowed partners. Ashley couldn’t seem to get enough of Gillian and was crying out in pleasure, playing with her own self while her tongue was deep in the warm part of Gillian. And Gillian sympathized with Ashley’s cries; if it hadn’t been for the mouthful of Cliff she was busy trying to wrangle she’d have been letting her own moans fill the room.

  Cecil’s erect cock commanded attention, seemed to need to be reduced to a manageable size. “I need two mouths on this baby,” he whispered. Ashley heeded the call and shimmied out from under Gillian. She started teasing Cecil by kissing Gillian, the two women’s faces close to his hard prick. Gillian had never kissed a woman, and though the sensation was foreign, again it seemed akin to kissing a mirror image of yourself. It was sensuous, relaxed, and harmonious. “You’re driving me crazy,” Cecil cried. He squeezed his shaft making the head bulge more. The women slowly brought their kissing mouths towards the head of his cock and shared the large end with their tongues. Gillian took to this with zeal; she loved all the slurping and the idea that there was so much sensation not only in Cecil’s prick, but in the women’s mouths as well. At this one spot where mouths and cock met, so many sparks were flying, and not only there, but soon Ashley’s long fingers found their way back into Gillian, and she reciprocated, tenderly touching the waxed skin surrounding Ashley’s eager hole. The women continued to pleasure Cecil’s member, running their lips up and down and taking the head together and one at a time. Gillian remembered how Robert loved having his balls squeezed, and, with her free hand took Cecil’s balls and gently stroked and tugged on them. Cecil let out a prolonged “aaaahhhhhhhhh.” And Gillian knew she was finding her way around this new found sensuality.

  She looked up at Cecil, despite the upper crust name and neighbourhood he hailed from, again she saw him as decidedly working class––something about the stubble, the line of hair down his torso, and his deep set eyes, said this man was a mongrel––to his credit––and not one of the well-bred with over accentuated features that characterised their lot. In a word it made her hungry for something rough, like this, the voracious appetite that accompanied the drive to be sated. “Let him fuck you,” said Ashley between licks. Gillian raised her eyebrows. “Go on, let him fuck you. We’d both love it. I can’t tell you what a turn on it is to watch.”

  “She’s right, don’t worry I’ll be gentle. Ashley loves to look at me from afar, don’t you dear? She loves to watch me tighten my ass and release and she gets all hot at the idea that my fat headed dick is tickling someone’s cunt and driving them wild, just the fat head, that’s all. Just the fat head of my fat headed explosive dick inside you, pleasuring you, tickling you, finding your g-spot, making you wetter than ever, while Ashley plays with her pussy for us to watch. Maybe she’ll even let you lick her tits.”

  Cecil’s words were driving Gillian wild, even the thought of Ashley’s tits somewhere nearby while Cecil fucked her, even that, or the thought that Cecil would lick Ashley’s nipples while his eyes rolled back in his head. All of these thoughts made her heart race. “Okay,” Gillian said, “I’ll be a good girl, if you’re a good boy. And Ashley I want you to behave. I want you to keep those gorgeous tits under control. Careful how you unleash their power.” Gillian moved to the other arm of the couch, where she bent over, with her back to Cecil. Ashley sat on the other side of the fireplace, her breasts fighting once again to be released from her baby dolls. Gillian felt Cecil come up behind her, and she gently took his cock––the large spongy head––in her hands and guided it. She felt herself willingly and warmly open to the touch, and Cecil gently applied pressure until Gillian gasped as it shifted into her. Gillian’s voice was low and long. “Oooooh my Gawwwwd.” She hung her head low as the feeling spread. She turned and looked at Ashley who was entranced at the amount of pleasure Gillian was exhibiting. “I’m getting over a drought kiddo,” she said to Ashley. “With any luck you’ll never have to experience anything like it. Oh my God this is so good.”

  Ashley sat on the opposite loveseat and opened her legs and immediately started to play with herself.

  So much seemed to be going on in Gillian’s mind, all of which had to do with the moment of course, and she was caught in a whirlpool of pleasure. And speaking of whirlpool, Gillian was fighting a tempest of feelings now, having connected with Cecil in a primitive way, she held her behind high while he came under her to get the better part of his cock up and inside. This angle, for Gillian, seemed to make his entry that much more intoxicating. Feeling Cecil’s hands on her hips as he rode her, gave her a sense that she was the tour guide, she was taking him to places that he hadn’t been. “Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah.” Cecil was in a whole new state of bliss completely different from the earlier moment when his cock was being so thoroughly sucked on. The light sensation of in and out on the head of his dick was making his breath light and shallow, like he was trying to get into a tub of hot water. It was torture and magnetic all at once––a pleasurable pain. He had also managed to find one of Tracey’s special, g-spots, at this point she wasn’t sure how many she had, but the amount of discovery recently had led her to believe that her vagina was an extremely powerful conduit for pleasure. She could no longer focus on Ashley and dropped her head to concentrate on taking in the wide stimulation of Cecil’s dick-head. She had rarely taken this position and could now see and feel the farreaching benefits.

  Finally Ashely let out a squeal and as far as Gillian could tell she was in the midst of an orgasm or being ravished by a ghost. In a fit of sensuality, she was shoving her tits to her face with one hand and licking them and driving herself crazy with the other hand. She was glistening with sweat, and laughing and weeping. But Gillian had entered the trance of the long orgasm, and grunted with each new push. She wanted to tell Cecil to just fuck her hard and long, but she knew it was not the moment to be rammed, so she played his game of tickle the nether regions which kept both of them on the verge, until, until, until, “ahhhhhhh,” Gillian was launched into another dimension and no sooner than this unfamiliar climax, did Cecil pull out his cock and clutch it with one hand and move the o
ther hand to take the place of his cock in her and then he ejaculated all over Gillian’s ass, she felt the warm semen fly across her behind, as Cecil choked out a growl of pleasure. Then he gently took Gillian, held her from behind, placed his hands on her now steaming and sensitive breasts, and held her against his front. Ashley came over to the two and kissed Gillian, and then long and lasting, kissed Cecil, while Gillian was faced with the huge orbs of Ashley’s more-or-less perfect breasts. The three draped themselves on the sofa by the fire for ages, nodding off, sipping bubbly and cuddling and touching, when the urge suited them. Finally Gillian rose. “I should go back to my room,” she said.