by Noel Amos
'Ooh,' moaned Felicity, thrilled by the sight and sensation of being filled. Her vagina was like a mouth, stretching wide to swallow the thick invader. By reflex she bore down and saw her cunt, like some exotic sea anemone, swallow his organ to the root.
'My God,' muttered Henry, his voice thick.
Brendan chuckled and pulled Felicity closer to him, stretching her buttocks wide so the furrow between gaped open, from the brown whorl of her anus to the distended lips of her sex. As the thick shaft of his cock shunted gently in and out of her in small, titillating movements, Brendan's hands roved the satiny expanse of her splayed buttocks.
'Did you ever see such an inviting target?' he said to Henry.
The blond boy simply grunted and unscrewed a bottle of body lotion he must have taken from the dressing-table.
Even watching in the mirror as Brendan palmed her arse cheeks and Henry coated his tool with white cream, it did not dawn on Felicity what they were planning to do to her. Only when Brendan touched the dimple of her bumhole with a blob of ointment did the realisation hit her. She was not only to be fucked but buggered at the same time.
Buggery. It was a word that thrilled and revolted in the same breath. Felicity had done it in her youth to please a particular boyfriend. He'd got her to like it and when they'd split up she'd rather missed it. No one had done it to her since then and her husband had never even suggested it. Her partiality was a forbidden secret that lay long buried. And now Henry was going to do it to her in these outrageous circumstances. She was on the brink of orgasm at the thought.
Henry misunderstood the shiver that vibrated through her agitated flesh.
'I'll stop if it hurts,' he said as he pressed the head of his penis to the opening that Brendan was massaging so skilfully. 'I don't want to cause you any pain.'
But the pain of his entry was not something that worried Felicity.
She had a high tolerance to physical discomfort and the wimpish behaviour of others was top of her list of irritations. More to the point, she had endured childbirth three times without pain relief of any sort. Beside that, the intrusion of Henry's long thin penis into her rectum was not significant.
And when it was in - lodged deep within her bowels, pulsating in her guts with Brendan's cock buried in her from the front, their young strong bodies enfolding her in a carnal embrace that made her dizzy - oh how glorious that was! Their hands were all over her, stroking and tweaking and hefting and squeezing until her senses were overloaded. She came almost immediately as Brendan touched her clit and then again and again, every inch of her flesh seeming a separate erogenous zone, in a string of climaxes like fireworks shooting off into the night.
But it wasn't night-time it was a blazing Italian afternoon with a sea breeze ruffling the thin white curtain in front of the balcony shutters. The three of them stopped for a rest, glued together by sweat and the juices of sex, and she watched that thin curtain blow back and forth. Outside there were voices of distant merriment by the hotel pool and, closer, the rumble of male conversation a few balconies along. What would these people think if that curtain should fall and they could see her now? Felicity looked in the mirror at their lewdly sandwiched bodies and realised that she couldn't care less.
Her lovers saw the direction of her gaze and lifted her upper leg high in the air to display the three way conjunction more fully. The two cocks were buried in her, fore and aft, like smoking guns. She longed for them to shoot inside her.
'Don't stop now,' she said, her voice urgent with desire, 'fuck me some more.'
So they did. Back and forth in a rhythm, their organs like pistons, driving to the hilt in turn, shunting her quivering, spasming flesh between them until they lost all control. The three of them tumbled over the edge together, locked in one rushing climax that reverberated between their bodies until long after their limbs had ceased to twitch.
They lay as if dead.
At length she said, 'You sods, you've done this before, haven't you?'
Brendan kissed her. 'Believe me, my darling, I've never done anything quite like that.'
Henry just sighed with contentment and pressed his wilting penis into the sticky pool of spunk between her big round buttocks.
Chapter 20
Though it was on the mend, Percy's ankle still looked ghastly, blue and mottled and fat, like an aubergine with toes. But it didn't hurt like before. The lancing pain up his leg had faded and he could walk without support if he had to. The point was that he didn't have to. Both Philippa and Lucia were practised at manoeuvring his long frame about the terrace and up and down stairs. When they weren't around he hobbled ostentatiously, stick in hand. Only Brendan knew of the improvement in Percy's condition and he was sworn to secrecy. Things were fine just the way they were.
In fact this morning, a week after Percy's doomed heroics on the volleyball court, things were finer than ever. The children had gone rushing off to their activities with squeaks of joy and Felicity had shown him, albeit briefly, the kind of doting consideration she reserved for charitable causes.
'Percy, my darling, just look at your poor foot! You must still be in agony.'
'It's not as bad as it was, Flick. I'm only sorry I'm not able to keep you company. Give you a knock-up on the tennis court and all that.'
'Oh don't worry. There's plenty here who'll give me a knock-up if I ask them. I'm not shy you know!'
Felicity had always had a fine figure, he reflected as he watched her walk down to the beach, her big bottom swinging beneath a flowered cotton wrap tied sarong-style about her hips. He was looking forward to the scenes in To the Hilt when Max would get to grips with an arse like that.
In this glow of conjugal satisfaction, Percy had savoured the sight of Philippa's sun-cream routine. It took fully fifteen minutes this morning, the extra three being attributable to the doffing of her top and subsequent oiling of her awe-inspiring mammaries. Percy made no attempt to hide his interest in proceedings. He eyed every daub of cream and quiver of flesh with undisguised admiration. Philippa had been working up to this moment of revelation and to deny her his appreciation would have been churlish - not to say an act of complete hypocrisy.
When she had finished and her oiled breasts were pointing at him in a manner that defied gravity, she said, 'Well, if you're going to write about them, you might as well get the details right.'
'I'm deeply grateful,' he said. 'You're not only beautiful, Philippa, but generous with your beauty.'
'Creep,' she muttered and lowered her eyes to her book. All the same, she couldn't hide a blush.
Percy reflected that a blush would hardly cover her confusion were she to know that this was not the first time he had scrutinised her tits in their entirety, not to mention the rest of her.
'Can you walk yet, Perce?' Brendan had said to him the previous day, just after lunch. 'If you can manage it there's something you should see. Be great for the book.'
So Percy had followed Brendan into the stunted growth of trees at the back of the beach, making the happy discovery that his ankle was fast regaining its strength. They had followed a sandy path for a few hundred yards and then scrambled up a dune topped with scrub and gorse. Ahead of them was the sea and below them a clearing, hidden from the beach. Brendan had pointed downwards with a finger and winked. Percy understood he was to keep quiet. In any case the sight before them required no commentary.
Two girls lay on a rug, both nude. One was Philippa, the other a dark-haired child-minder who occasionally looked after Percy's kids. Her name was Gina.
Their bodies baked in the heat of the sun but sunbathing was not the name of their game. They were kissing fiercely, their arms wrapped around each other as they lay on their sides, their loins mashing and bumping together.
Percy was rigid with shock and desire. He had never seen women making love before - he'd never seen anybody making love before. It was incredible.
Philippa pushed the other girl onto her back and slid a hand up her bronzed th
igh into the black thatch of her crotch.
'Ooh yes!' hissed Gina as Philippa opened her up like an oyster and slipped a finger inside.
'Good grief!' thought Percy and adjusted the erection in his shorts.
'Don't get any ideas about lending a hand,' muttered Brendan in his ear. 'Lay a finger on either and they'll blow a fuse.'
It looked to Percy like they might be blowing fuses without help from him or any other lustful male. They had tongues in each other's mouths and fingers in each other's pussies and Gina was already whimpering and squealing out loud.
'All the guys sounded them out at the beginning of the season and got the big frost,' continued Brendan. 'Then the next thing we know is they're dancing the slow ones together on Romeo and Juliet Night.'
'Which one's Romeo?' whispered Percy but he'd already made up his mind. Philippa was definitely in charge. She'd brought Gina off with her hand and now knelt between the girl's thighs, her big breasts hanging down. She bent Gina's legs back over her body, pushing the girl's knees into her chest and spreading wide her arse and pussy crack.
Percy gulped as he feasted his eyes on Gina's exposed crotch.
Her nest of hair had parted to reveal a pretty coral-pink mouth which seemed to plead for attention. Philippa teased her. She blew a hot whisper of lust over those pouting lips and then, to Percy's amazement, dipped her shoulders and nuzzled the open crack with the end of one dangling breast. She did it again with the other. Then back and forth in a swaying, rippling blur of flesh until, with a moan, she crushed her bountiful chest between the girl's wide-spread legs.
'That woman can do anything with those tits,' muttered Brendan. 'Shell peanuts and open a bottle of beer, I bet. It's a mortal shame that's the only way she'll ever give a fellow satisfaction.'
Percy chuckled at the memory now as he shamelessly ogled Philippa's bared bazookas.
'I hope you're not laughing at me,' she said, staring at him over the top of her sunglasses.
'Good God, no,' said Percy. 'It's, er, to do with my work.'
'Your porno book, you mean. Tell me, what's my character doing now? Gangbanging a busload of yobs with tattoos on their willies?'
'Hardly.' Percy was mildly affronted. 'Simone's got far too much class to go in for that.'
'You could have fooled me,' said Philippa and grinned, her breasts shifting delightfully on her chest.
Percy laid his writing pad on his lap to cover his erection. These little chats with Philippa, a recent development, were a highlight of the morning.
'Actually,' he said, chancing his arm, 'Simone is about to meet someone very interesting. A female language professor in the throes of a broken marriage who has decided to give up men.'
Philippa's grin broadened, her tits swayed, Percy's cock twitched. 'Simone's gay?'
'Simone slept with girls at school. As for the professor, the aesthetic possibilities of woman-to-woman love have always appealed to her. Now she wants to try the real thing. What do you think?'
Philippa considered the matter, she didn't seem fazed by the turn the conversation had taken. 'What's the professor's name?'
'Lauren.'
'I knew a Lauren once. She was pencil-slim with wonderful hair that hung down her back like a curtain of gold.'
'My Lauren has golden hair too.'
Philippa's grin softened to a wistful smile. 'She had a little pointed chin and big brown eyes. No tits to speak of. We were quite the opposite shape. We used to think it was funny.'
Philippa's hand had fallen, perhaps unconsciously, to her breast and her fingers toyed with a rigid rosy nipple. 'Who makes the first move?' she asked.
'It has to be Simone. She finds Lauren in tears in the hotel bar - she's being pestered by some men - and Simone suggests a walk on the beach. It's sunset and very beautiful. Lauren pours out her unhappiness. Simone tells her to be brave and take a chance on a new life. Then she says Lauren needs to perform a symbolic act to signify a break with the past.'
'So she takes her to bed?' Philippa raised an eyebrow and the finger on her breast stopped circling the areola.
'Not yet,' said Percy hastily. 'Simone persuades her to strip off all her clothes and they bathe nude in the warm sea as the sun kisses the horizon. Afterwards they run back to the hotel and share a bottle of cognac in Simone's room.'
'And then they fuck?' Philippa's fingers were busy again and Percy was amazed to see that her other hand was openly stroking the bulge of her pussy through her bikini panties. 'Tell me what they do, Percy.'
'Well... they're shivering after being in the sea so they get into bed and hug. Of course, they're naked and they giggle as their breasts and bellies touch. Then Simone kisses Lauren. It's the crucial moment. Will she run screaming from the room?'
'I bet she doesn't,' said Philippa, her index finger sliding up and down the groove of her sex through her bikini. Percy could see the pale blue material turning to navy with her dampness.
'She responds to Simone's kiss with passion. It's like turning on a switch. She clutches Simone's breasts and rubs her pussy against her thigh. She's wet and open and willing, Simone's to do with as she wishes.'
'Mmm, sounds great,' muttered Philippa, pulling the gusset of her pants to one side and slipping a finger inside. 'Go on, don't stop. Does Simone eat her out?'
'They swivel round and sixty-nine. Lauren's clumsy at it but she buries her face between Simone's legs and tastes the honey of her juices.'
'Tell me about Lauren's sex, Percy.'
'It's a secret nook that leads to an untapped well of sensuality—'
'With glossy honey-brown hairs that part under your tongue,' interrupted Philippa, her eyes closed and her face held up to the sun. 'And when you kiss her pussy you must treat it like a mouth, trace her lips with your tongue, nibble and suck and then plunge in deep. Lick the length of her crack, tickle her bumhole with your finger, blow on her clit but don't touch it. Then she'll be squirming and squealing and pushing her fanny into your face and begging for it.'
Philippa was staring straight at Percy now. Both hands were in her crotch, one pulling wide the panty gusset, the other masturbating the pink and golden flesh beneath. Percy could plainly see that four fingers were buried inside her vagina and her thumb was rubbing the flesh around her clit.
'And then,' she continued, her voice tight and her breath short, 'when you've teased her enough, you let her have it.'
Suddenly, before Percy's incredulous gaze, Philippa began to bounce up and down on the hand jammed deep inside herself, her thumb squeezing tight and the nail white with pressure, her face rigid with effort and those fabulous big breasts dancing and juddering.
Her orgasm seemed to go on forever and Percy drank in every detail of her pleasure. At last she slumped back in her seat and her swaying, tantalising flesh became still. She smiled at him, her sticky thighs spread and her fingers still embedded deep within her vagina.
'I hope you had a good look, Percy,' she said. 'I've always wanted to inspire a great writer.'
Chapter 21
By the time Lucian arrived home, Caroline was waiting for him in the living room. Tania, who sat opposite, must have let her in. The tension between the two women was obvious but, at least - Lucian thought - they weren't scratching each other's eyes out.
'Goodbye, Caroline,' said Tania with excessive politeness. 'I hope your meeting is... constructive.' She left the room and, a moment later, Lucian heard the front door open and close.
Caroline made no acknowledgement of her exit or his entrance but her eyes were glued to the long thin parcel Lucian held in his hand. She stood as he laid it on the table.
'Unbutton your coat, Contessa,' said Lucian, plunging at once into the required scenario. Caroline lifted her hand to her throat and began to unfasten her long mackintosh.
It was a bizarre garment to be wearing on this warm summer evening but Lucian would guess why she wore it - and what he would see when she removed it.
He poured himself a drink an
d savoured the sight of her trembling fingers picking at the fastenings, holding the coat closed until she had undone it all the way down.
He had spent a hard week - the Lynch woman had doubled his workload and his body ached and smarted in many tender places from his protracted negotiations with Marilyn Savage. For two pins he'd have cancelled this encounter with Caroline and tumbled into bed - alone. But Caro had sent him the latest instalment from her book. He'd read it that morning and he knew what was required of him. He was rigid with excitement already.
'There you are, you swine,' muttered Caroline, shrugging the coat from her shoulders. Beneath it she was all but naked. She wore just a thin white camisole that reached to her waist with matching stockings and suspenders. The points of her nipples and the circles of her areolae were plainly visible through the flimsy top. The pale dome of her belly and the strip of honey-coloured curls at the junction of her thighs were framed by the suspender straps. To Lucian's eye she had never looked more ravishing.
'I hope you're satisfied,' she said bitterly.
'Not yet,' replied Lucian, 'but I intend to be. Tell me, Marietta, did you enjoy walking the city streets knowing that only your coat concealed your most intimate secrets?'
'I was humiliated and ashamed.'
'Excellent. What else did you feel?'
'I don't know what you mean.'
'Admit it, Contessa, you were excited. The thought of all those coarse peasants so tantalisingly close to looking at your pretty cunt turned you on. Didn't it?'
'No. I swear it.'
'Let's see, shall we?'
'No, Bruno, no - don't touch me!' she cried as Lucian slipped to his knees in front of her. But her feet moved apart of their own accord to allow his hand to slide between her thighs. The musk of her arousal was thick in the air, her bush inches from his face as he slipped a finger between her labia. Her pelvis jerked at his touch and the mouth of her pussy sucked him in eagerly. He wanted to plunge forward and kiss those pink and gleaming lips but he restrained himself. It wasn't in the script - yet.