3 comments/ 26656 views/ 2 favorites Helping Hands By: Nguyen_returns *Author's Note – this is a true tale. While I have taken some very slight liberties with it, the events are real and accurately represented (particularly the abilities of the female character). As well, I used to write here as nguyenvanphuoc but was unable to reactivate my login. Chapter 6 of "The List" is in development.* I was working at a manufacturing company in the Quality Control department. Janet was hired about 2 months after I started there, and I could immediately tell she was interested in me. She was a pretty girl, but her body type was not my favorite, with small breasts and an oversized ass. Her hair was chestnut brown and shoulder length. Her personality was okay but a little rough, as she came from a small town and it showed. She was nice, and fine to work with, but I found myself turning down her invitations to go for drinks or a movie. She was persistent, though, I'll give her that. We would find ourselves working together often, many times in the warehouse or another secluded part of the building. I found myself rethinking my previous position, wondering if she was any good in bed. I still didn't pursue it, but I was softening. One day we were tasked with locating a product in the warehouse. We were hidden behind stacks of pallets, and any sounds were completely muffled by the wood, paper and metal surrounding us. As we searched, she was working on me again. Finally she said what would be the one thing that would work. "You're scared of me," she said, a smile on her face. "Pardon me?" I replied, turning around. "You are," she said. "You're scared of me. That's why you won't go out with me." I chuckled. "That's not why," I said. "Yes it is," she said. "You're scared to do anything with me. I looked at her. She was wearing a white lab coat (as was I), and she looked good. She was smiling and there was a devilish glint in her eye. I felt myself start to harden. I stepped towards her and said, "You really think I'm afraid of you?" I asked. "Yes," she said, standing her ground. "Want me to prove I'm not?" I asked, taking another step. I was now standing about a foot from her. "Sure," she said, her smile widening. I don't know what she thought I'd do. I'm guessing she thought I'd kiss her. Instead I reached out and opened her lab coat. She didn't move, but her eyes widened. For her body type, she had a flat stomach, something I noticed now. My hands went to her jeans, and I unsnapped the button. She gasped quietly. I slowly pulled the zipper down, exposing her pink panties. I stepped beside her and slid my hand inside her underwear. Her breath was come in ragged gasps now. My fingers slid down, over a small patch of soft hair, and onto her pussy. My middle finger stretched down to rub her lips. She was dry, as I expected, but as I pushed a little, my finger was suddenly enveloped in her wetness. I couldn't believe how wet she was. I pulled my finger back up, spreading her moisture on her lips, finally reaching her clit. I started as I normally would with any girl, gently rubbing her clit. My previous experience was that it would take anywhere from 3 or 4 minutes to as long as 20 minutes for a girl to get off this way. You can imagine my surprise when after about 45 seconds, she started shaking uncontrollably. I kept working her clit until she stopped. "Did you cum?" I whispered in her ear. "Yeah," she answered breathlessly. "That was fast," I said. "I know," she gasped. "It's never been that fast before." Her hands were on my arm, and they were still twitching. "How did it feel?" I asked. "Amazing," she answered. My finger was still on her clit, and her whole body jerked when I started rubbing again. "Can you cum again?" I asked, rubbing harder. "I..." she started, then she came again. I was rock hard now. I had never been with somebody that could cum so quickly and repeatedly. I wanted to keep doing this to her for hours. After her second orgasm, I slid my finger back down to her opening and pushed it back in. She was sopping wet now, and after a couple strokes in and out, I went back to her clit. I rubbed very slowly, seeing if I could stretch it out a little. Nope. Within 30 seconds she was off again, her legs buckling slightly. I felt like my cock was going to explode out of my pants. This time I didn't stop rubbing, and she grabbed my hand. "Stop," she said. I took that to mean that she had had enough, so I pulled my hand out of her pants. "Holy crap," she said. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were wild. Her jeans were still open, the top of her pink lace panties still visible. I couldn't stand it anymore. "My turn," I said, unbuckling my belt. I undid my jeans, lowered my boxers and pulled out my rock hard cock. She looked at it, and though I think she was a little unsure, she stepped over and wrapped her fingers around me. She started stroking me, and she was pretty much perfect at it. Her pressure and speed had me on the verge in no time. I felt my whole body tense, and then I came. My cum shot probably 3 or 4 feet on the floor. I heard her gasp at the first shot, but she didn't let up. She kept stroking as I kept shooting. I was amazed at how much I came, and also how far it went. I've always been a shooter, but this was a record. After I finished, she wiped her hand on her lab coat and buttoned back up. I wiped the cum off my cock and then put myself back together as well. She looked at me. "Still think I'm afraid?" I asked. "Yep," she answered, smiling. ***** I was very relieved that our encounter didn't change our working relationship. I was worried that Janet might get clingy or start acting like she was my girlfriend, but it seemed that she was happy to just enjoy what happened. I was hoping for a repeat encounter, but wasn't sure that I should push it. About a week later we found ourselves alone again in another secluded part of the building. She didn't waste any time. "So, are you still scared of me?" she asked. I didn't answer; I just walked to her, opened her lab coat, and lifted her skirt (I learned to love skirt days). I slid my hand into her underwear, and within a minute she was convulsing in the throes of her first orgasm. I learned that all she needed was about 5 or 10 seconds after cumming before she could go again. This time, I made her cum 5 times before I stopped. I could've kept going, but I needed some attention. Ever since the first time I slid my finger inside her pussy, I was dying to find out what it would feel like around my cock. After she came down from her last orgasm, I pulled her panties down to her mid-thigh. She didn't resist as I turned her around. I lifted her skirt, exposing her ass. Not the best ass, but I don't think I'd ever been that turned on. I quickly unbuttoned and pushed my jeans and boxers down. I stepped behind her, my cock nestling between her cheeks. I pushed her gently between her shoulders, and she understood, bending forward. I reached down and grabbed my shaft, guiding the head of my cock to her wet opening. I slowly started pushing. She was tight, tighter than I would've thought, but I was able to push in in one stroke. I felt her lips close over the base of my cock, and I knew I would not last long. It was like my cock was being gripped by a tight, slippery fist. I pulled out, and pushed back in, resolving to last at least a few minutes. "Are you on the pill?" I whispered, pushing all the way into her. "Yeah," she grunted back. She had been using both hands to brace herself against the wall, but then she did something that pushed me over the edge. She took one of her hands off the wall and started to finger herself. I felt her nails gently scratch my shaft has she worked her clit furiously. Within seconds I felt her start to shake and I knew she was about to cum. I had stopped moving, but even still I felt my cum about to erupt. I started to piston in and out of her. When my orgasm hit, I pushed all the way in and sprayed my load deep inside her. We stood there panting, my softening shaft still inside her. I slowly pulled it out, and a flood of cum followed, plopping loudly on the concrete floor of the warehouse. She leaned against the wall, legs bent slightly, as the rest of my cum dripped out, the last drops sliding down her inner thigh. She pulled her panties back up and used her hand to spread the cum on her thigh. I buttoned up, and we started walking back to the office. "Thanks," I said. "No problem," she said. ***** We continued our escapades on a regular basis. Whenever one of us needed release, it would only take a phone call. "Busy?" I'd ask when she'd pick up the phone. "No," she'd usually answer. "Meet me in 5," I'd say and hang up. We'd meet in the warehouse and then find the best spot. I'd get her off multiple times and then she'd jerk me off until I sprayed like a firehose. After maybe a dozen sessions, she once again surprised me. I had made her cum 7 or 8 times, and now her hand was almost a blur on my cock. I felt the familiar tingle and knew I was about to cum. She seemed to sense my impending orgasm as well. Janet took her free hand and slid it into her panties. As she jerked me off, she fingered herself to another orgasm. That pushed me right over the brink, and I came more than I ever have before. As my cock stopped spurting, she kept going, cumming again as she held my wilting shaft. "Wow," I said. "What made you do that?" "I couldn't stop myself," she said, her face flushed, her breath ragged. "That's fantastic," I answered. I loved that fact that she was so turned on she was incapable of not touching herself. ***** That was how it went for years; once or twice a week we'd be somewhere cumming like mad. Almost all the encounters were using our hands. We had sex sometimes, but I think we both preferred it with our hands. It would never get boring, and to this day nobody else's hands have come close to matching what she could do. There were many more encounters in many other places, very few occurring in a bedroom or somewhere private. If I get some positive feedback, I'll be happy to write more. Helping Hands Shelly had been a quiet person for as long as she could remember. It wasn't actually a choice she made, but when you were the youngest of four, and when your older brothers were as boisterous as they were, one had no choice to be anything but quiet. It did not help that her mom had left when she was so young that she had almost no memories of her. She was three years old at the time, and Shelly didn't talk for almost a whole year after her mom left. Now Shelly was eighteen and finishing up her last year of high school. It was just her and her dad living in that big old house, just outside of Boston. Soon she would join the path of her older brothers and go off to college. College plans were about all she and her brothers had in common. Physically no one would ever think they were related. All of her brothers were massive. Joe, the youngest of the three was six foot three inches tall and played outside linebacker for his college. Jack and George, the other two brothers both played basketball when they were in college. Jack was now married and living in California with his wife and two kids, and George was living and working in Manhattan at some kind of high powered financial job. Joe went to Boston College, but he would often spend his weekends back at home with Shelly and her dad. When they were in high school together, when she was a freshmen and he a senior, he was so overly protective of Shelly that none of the boys at school would talk to her for fear that her big brother would beat them to a bloody pulp. Maybe Joe was over protective of Shelly because she seemed so fragile. She was tiny compared to her brothers. She was barely over five feet tall, and she couldn't have weighed one hundred pounds soaking wet. While her brothers all had dark, course hair, Shelly had the fine blonde hair of her mother. She also had her mom's features. Her mother had always looked so young. When she left her family, it was rumored that she had run off with one of her former students. Shelly hated how young she looked. She couldn't get into an R rate movie without showing her ID. When she drove anywhere, people would point at her thinking that she was some 13 year old that had stolen her parent's car. When she was 16, a police officer actually pulled her over thinking she was barely a teenager. With her tiny frame, and her baby face, Shelly was often mistaken for a freshman, or even a middle school age child. This drove her mad. Shelly was in her room studying for a big chemistry test, when she got the phone call that changed everything. Her brother Joe had crashed his motorcycle, and it was bad. When she got to the hospital, Joe had already been rushed into surgery. She was told that he was in stable condition, but he had broken a lot of bones. Her father got to the hospital about twenty minutes after Shelly. He was more mad than shocked. "I told him not to ride that fuckin thing! How does he expect to honor his scholarship now"? Shelly just sat stunned for hours in the hospital. She did not say a word to anybody. Joe came home almost a month later. He was barely recognizable. His once handsome face now was marred with red scars. His entire upper body was in a cast. He had shattered both arms, fractured his color bone, and suffered a herniated disc in his back. He was lucky that his back didn't break. Joe's spirit did not escape injury either. Shelly did not see him smile once as she tried to make his old room comfortable for him. "I am sorry I have to put you through all this Shell. It kills me to have to burden you." "Please Joe. I'm your sister. The least I can do is look after you until you get better. And they are going to cut those casts off in about a month. It's no big deal." It was a big deal, but Shelly loved her brother. What else could she do? She was going to have to do everything for her brother. With his whole upper body in casts, he could do nothing for himself. She would have had to wipe his ass even, if their father didn't install a bidet in Joe's bathroom. Shelly was feeding her brother some soup for dinner, when they began to plan out his schedule. "I get home from school around 3:30, so I can feed you a late lunch then. The doctors say you should have a light dinner a couple of hours before you go to sleep, so I was thinking some soup. Then I can give you your bath and dress you for bed." "Thanks again Shelly. I don't know what I would do without you." She saw her brother form a weak smile for the first time since the accident. "Though getting bathed by my little sister is not something I am looking forward to." "Well if you weren't such a big idiot she wouldn't have to bath you." Shelly smiled at her brother. She loved him so much, and this accident, as horrible as it was, was allowing the two of them to become close again. Shelly's next day at school was uneventful. She got home, fed her brother and then got some homework done. After dinner she ran a bath for her brother. He looked so helpless as he walked into the bathroom with his torso in that big cast. "Thanks again Shell. " "Of course, you would do the same for me. It's no big deal." But today was a big deal, in her mind. She was so nervous about bathing her brother. She hadn't seen him naked since they were both kids, and now she would have to see him and touch him. She actually had never seen a grown man naked, and to be completely honest, she was a little bit curious. "Ok, so I will take your sweats off, and then just sit in the tub. The water shouldn't go above your mid-stomach so your casts won't get wet. Let me know if it's too cold or hot." With that Shelly unceremoniously pulled down her brother's pants from behind. She nudged him towards the tub and braced him as he eased himself into the water. "Fuck you are so heavy." She was using every ounce of strength to brace him, as he sat in the tub. "Well if you weren't a little midget this would be a lot easier." Joe sat with a splash. The bath water soaked the front of Shelly's white T-shirt. Joe could see the outline of her tiny breasts. He noticed that her nipples were hard, and that they were proportionally quite large compared to her little tities. "Fuck I am too horny. Now I am checking out my little sister." Joe thought to himself. Shelly busied herself by grabbing a sponge and lathering it up. Finally she looked at her brother in the tub. She couldn't help but giggle. "What?" "You barely even fit in the tub. This must be your first bath since you were a kid." Joe looked comical sitting in the tub with his rigid torso in a cast, and his long legs bending to squeeze in the tub. "Yea, I can't remember the last time I took a bath. In the hospital a nurse would just give me a sponge bath in my bed." "Was she cute?" Shelly giggled. "He was ok." They both broke out in laughter. All the tension left the room. Shelly started at her brother's massive size 14 feet. She carefully scrubbed his calves, avoiding the stitches on his right one. She chatted idly with her brother about her day at school. She was trying hard to seem at ease as she worked her way up his leg. Internally she was a wreck. She didn't dare glance up at her brother penis for fear of how she might react, but she was about to move up his legs to his thighs, and she knew that she couldn't postpone the inevitable any longer. While talking about her chemistry test, she scrubbed her brother's knee and quickly moved up his thigh. From the corner of her eye she could see her brother's cock, and just like the rest of him, it was massive. Shelly wasn't naïve when it came to the physiology of guys. She had seen plenty of cocks when she looked at porn on her computer. There was a big difference, however, at seeing a cock on the computer, and now being within inches of one. She kept talking about her day as she sponged up his thigh, and there it was. His cock was lying on the other thigh. It was flaccid, but it was still huge! She kept talking as if it was no big deal, but the sight of such an erotic weapon made it hard for her to concentrate. "What did you say?" Joe asked. "You were talking about your test, and then you kind of trailed off." "It's nothing." She lied. "What do you plan on doing tomorrow? She finished the one thigh and went to the one with her brother's cock lying on it. She sponged his leg right up to his organ. Then, without hesitation, she grabbed his cock with her little thumb and forefinger, and moved it to the other leg. It was the first time she had ever touched a cock. It felt soft like velvet. And the touch sent a bolt of electricity between her legs. Her brother's voice went up an octave as she moved his tool, but he continued talking. She finished his leg quickly, and there was only one more thing to wash. She dipped the sponge in the warm water and quickly brought it to his cock. "God it was big! How big would it get?" She thought. "How does he get that monster into girls?" She noticed that the bottom of his shaft had short prickly hairs on it, like he shaved it a while back. She sponged his member very quickly, and then almost as an afterthought, she cleaned his massive balls. They had also been shaved some time ago. One of his massive sacks barely fit in the palm of her dainty hand. She rinsed the soap of his cock and balls quickly. "You are all done." "Thanks sis, I know that had to be weird," Joe said. "It's no big deal. Here, let me help you up." Shelly let him use her as leverage as he stood up, and when he did she noticed that his cock had grown. It wasn't rock hard or anything, but it definitely wasn't flaccid anymore. "I just gave my brother an erection." The thought sent a warm feeling between her legs. She dried off her brother quickly. Once she got close to his cock, she marveled at its size. "Shit it's still getting bigger"! It had already swollen to the thickness of her wrist. Shelly pulled her brother's pajama bottoms on, and she had to tuck his cock in, in order to pull them up. "All done." She looked at her brother and noticed that he was blushing a bit. "Thanks sis." "Of course." That night Shelly had trouble falling asleep. She kept picturing her brother's cock. It was so big! She just couldn't believe that something like that could fit in a woman. Her hand drifted down to her pussy. She noticed that her tuft of blonde pussy hair was damp. She started to rub her slit up and down. She was so turned on. She absent mindedly rubbed her lubed slit up and down. Her fingers quickly found her clit. It was erect already. She began rubbing her little pleasure nub. She closed her eyes and imagined that big cock. She saw it growing in her mind's eye. "It's so fucking big!" She slipped a finger in her tight pussy. She was drenched already. In and out she fucked her pussy while rubbing her clit. Her finger going in and out of her pussy was making sloppy wet sounds. She tried to insert another finger. "Ouch!" But the pain felt good, her cunt stretched around her two digits. "His cock would be like putting my whole fist in there," she muttered out loud, with a feeling of trepidation and determination. She kept up with her fingers as she imagined they were his cock. She tried a third finger, but it wouldn't go in. Her fingers were soaked to the second knuckle. Suddenly she got the tip of her third finger into her little pussy. She felt as if her pussy lips would rip with all the pressure. Shelly's entire body shuttered, and she came powerfully. Her vision went white as she came. And then she lay, panting in the glow of her orgasm. She felt guilty for a moment. Guilty for having an orgasm while picturing her brother's massive cock. Then she pictured it again, and her hand began to rub her cunt again. She smiled knowing that she would be able to see it again tomorrow. Shelly fell asleep with images of her brother's cock bouncing around in her head. The next day was another normal one at school, but Shelly could not focus on anything going on around her. All she could think about was her brother's cock. She had pictures of it like a sleeping dragon on his thigh, and then it growing more than twice its original size. She could still feel the heat it radiated as she touched it. How smooth its flesh was. Would she ever see it completely erect? How big would it get? How would it feel when it was erect? All these questions and thoughts kept Shelly from focusing on anything else the entire day at school. Joe had an even worse lot. He sat at home all day thinking about being bathed by his own sister. He had told himself that it was no big deal, but as soon as she started sponging him, he couldn't help but get aroused. And when she actually touched his cock, it was as if a lightning bolt had shot through his body. God, he was so horny. He used to jerk off at least once a day, but since the accident he was unable to get any release. Everything was becoming erotic to him. He would get hard watching commercials, and he could do nothing about his raging erections. This could not go on. He couldn't stop thinking about sex and there was no relief in sight. On top of all of this sexual frustration, since he hadn't been able to shave his cock and balls since the accident, they had been itching him like crazy now that the hair was growing back. Could he possibly ask his sister to shave him? She was already bathing him and dressing him, would shaving him be any different? The itching was driving Joe crazy. He had to do something about it. Shelly came home at the usual time and the two of them made small talk. She had a hard time looking her brother in the eye now. It wasn't just that she had seen and cleaned his cock. It was a pretty clinical procedure, and she was ok with it. Her brother needed her help. What was racking Shelly's brain was the fact that she had masturbated about the incident, until she came last night. And on top of that she could not stop thinking about her brother's cock all day. She had noticed at lunch time that her pussy had been in a state of arousal for most of the day. Her panties were wet with her pussy's constant lubrication. At dinner her brother seemed distracted. He was barely talking to her and Shelly began to wonder what was wrong? Was he mad at her? Was he still thinking about last night's bath? Or was he just moody from being in the house alone for all this time? Finally, Joe answered these questions for her. "Shelly I have to ask you something and it might sound kind of weird." He paused. "Tonight, when you bath me can you please shave my balls and stuff? I know you are going out of your way to help me and all, but I can't take the itching any more. I usually shave down there every other day. And I haven't been able to since the accident, and now that the hair is coming back, it is itching like crazy." Shelly was relieved that this was all that was eating at her brother. Maybe last night was just another bath to him. He had plenty of them in the hospital, maybe he was used to someone seeing and cleaning his private parts. Maybe it was just her that was having all the problems with this situation. "Sure Joe. Of course, I totally understand. If I forget to shave it drives me crazy." Why did she say that? Did she just tell her brother that she shaves her pussy? No, she didn't say pussy. He probably just thought she meant that she shaves her arm pits or legs. "Thanks sis. I cannot thank you enough for all that you are doing for me. I don't know if I could have made it through all of this without you. "A tear welled in Joe's eye as he said this. "Of course Joe, but you know that I love you. That's what brothers and sisters do for one another." As it came close to the time of Joe's bath, Shelly became more nervous. She even was having anxiety about what to wear. These feelings felt so strange to her. She didn't think twice about what she wore yesterday, but suddenly she was nervous about it, as if it was the first day of school. She settled on some old jeans and a beat up concert T-shirt from a band that she liked in middle school. She went into the bathroom and began running a bath for Joe. As soon as Joe heard the water running he shuffled into the bathroom. His sister was bent over the tub with her back to him. His eyes shot to her cute little ass. It was perfect! It was so small and round. Joe bet he could palm one of her cheeks with one of his big mitts. She bent forward further and her jeans slid down a bit revealing the dental floss thin pink string of her panties. "Fuck I have to cum soon." Joe lamented to himself. Shelly could feel the presence of her massive brother in the room. She also noticed that he hadn't said anything yet. Was he staring at her ass? She leaned even farther into the tub pretending that she was reaching for something on the far ledge. She could feel her jeans slip farther down her hips. If he was watching her ass, then he was going to get a show. She made sure that she thrust her ass out as she pretended to reach for that imaginary sponge that was just out of her reach. Joe could feel his cock growing already. "Fuck, this is too much." He thought. He had to break the silence. "Hey sis thanks again." She turned her head back, and gave him her best impression of a startled face. "Don't sneak up on me! You scared the crap out of me." She grabbed a can of woman's shave gel from the side of the tub. "This is all I have to shave you. I hope you don't mind if your junk smells like a chick." She giggled. All Shelly could do to keep her nervous energy at bay was try to joke with her brother. "At this point I couldn't care less how my junk smells. I just want the itching to stop." "All right, let's get you in the tub then." She stayed on her knees, and reached up to grab the waistband of her brothers sweat pants and pulled them down along with his underwear in one swoop. She carefully kept her eyes only on his pants as she eased his legs out. She nearly gasped out loud as she began to stand up to help her brother into the tub. His cock was not flaccid. It was semi-hard and standing at about a forty five degree angle from his body. "Shit it's even bigger than before. How could it be so big?" Shelly thought. Shelly eased her brother into the tub attempting to ignore his obvious state of arousal. Was that from watching her ass? Was his partial erection because he was anticipating his bath? Maybe it just had a mind of its own. She had heard that men in their sexual primes, like her brother, would sometimes get a spontaneous erection. It wasn't fully hard was it? How hard would it get? Shelly suddenly had the urge to taste her brother's cock. See how it would feel in her mouth. Would she even be able to open her mouth wide enough to take it in? She began scrubbing his feet just like she had done the day before, but she could not keep her mind from that massive rod in between her brother's leg. Tonight she would have to touch it. She would have to try to wrap her dainty little fingers around it. She would have to lather it up, and delicately run a razor its long length. She would have to cup his massive balls, lovingly soap them up, and gently shave them as well. "Fuck!" Shelly felt a drop of moister escape her little pussy and run down her thigh. "I can't believe how turned on this is making me, she thought. Luckily Shelly's thoughts were interrupted by her brother's voice. "Once I get better I am totally going to repay you for all this Shell. I know you have better things to do then give your crippled brother a sponge bath." "You're not crippled Joe. I am just helping you, the same you would help me if I needed it." Her delicate hands were passing his right knee as she sponged up his leg. She was a bit more purposeful than she was the previous night. She washed up his thigh, as his cock came into her view. It was so big and beautiful. It was lying along his left thigh, and its length seemed to go half way to his knee. As she sponged up his inner thigh, it twitched. It was a mesmerizing to her. Helping Hands "What do you miss most now that you are stuck inside all the time"? Shelly was just trying to make small talk, but as she asked this question, her sponge came down on her brother testicles. She scrubbed them longer than she had the night before, and then she moved on to his other leg. Joe had to take in a big breath of air as she asked the question, so he wouldn't moan as she touched his balls. He had been so horny of late, and the slightest touch would get him hard. He could feel something stirring down below, but he was afraid to look down. He focused instead on the back of his sister's head. He concentrated on the patterns that formed in her golden hair. "Uh, not ride a bike again that's for sure. This whole wreck has really fucked shit up," Joe finally answered Shelly's question. His sister was working quickly down his leg. His eyes fell from her head to her torso. From his angle he could he could see her little tits jiggling as she scrubbed his leg. Joe could feel his cock get a bit harder. Shelly was scrubbing his calf when she addressed what had been on her mind this whole time. "So I obviously haven't shaven any guy's junk before. You are going to have to walk me through it." "It's not rocket science Shell, but of course I will help you. Thanks again; I know it's weird, but I have been itching like crazy the last few days. " "Of course Joe, It's no big deal; just think of me as that male nurse in the hospital." With that, Shelly had finished sponging off her big brother. She could still see that his big cock was semi-erect, but she was not going to let anything stop her from helping her brother out at this point. She was also very curious as to what that big tool felt like. Would her little hand even be able to wrap all the way around it? She didn't think she would even get close to being able to do that. She grabbed the bottle of shave gel and looked up at her brother. "Ok so this is going to be a little weird I will admit it. Should I do your balls first, or does it not matter"? "It doesn't matter Shell. Just be careful down there, I am going to need that little guy when I get out of these casts." "Little guy?" Shelly thought. "No fuckin way!" "Just make sure you put on enough shave lotion and then just shave slowly. The base of the shaft is easy, but the balls are a bit tricky. You have to pull the skin taught, so it doesn't get nicked by the razor," Joe instructed her. Joe's cock looked so good to Shelly as it glistened with the bath water. Joe slouched a bit in the tub, so that his legs were hanging over the edge, and his groin was just above the water line. His massive balls were lying half submerged in the tub. Shelly took a large amount of shave gel in her hand. This was no time to turn back. She reached down to head of her brother's cock with one hand and pulled it off of his thigh. With her other hand she started lathering up his shaft. Joe could not watch. He closed his eyes and put his head back. The instant his sister started to lather up his shaft he thought he was going to cum. He knew in a matter of seconds he would be fully aroused. He had to say something to his sister. The scent from the feminine shave gel hit his nostrils and even it was arousing to him. "Shell, I haven't been able to you know, release any tension since the accident. I'm sorry if my cock gets hard. It's not because of you or anything, he lied; it is just what it does, when it's touched in my state of mind." Shelly could feel it growing harder under her hand as she lathered him up. "Fuck it is getting even bigger!" She spent a little extra time lathering his shaft so that her little fingers could explore the soft skin that was becoming so hard under her. She was right about one thing. Her hand did not even get close to wrapping around his girth. She pulled away for a second to grab the razor, and she noticed that she no longer had to hold her brother's cock up. It was standing fully erect away from his body. Shelly's pussy quivered. She felt another drop of her dew slip down her leg. Her panties must have been drenched. She could not remember ever being this aroused before. His cock had now grown to about the girth of her lower leg. It was long too. She could probably stack her hand four times on his length and still his big mushroom head would peek out from his last hand. How could any woman get that monster in her vagina? "Don't worry about it. I'm a doctor, I have seen many erect cocks, it's no big deal." She giggled at her little joke. She looked at her brother. She saw him, with his head back and his eyes closed. His chest was rising and falling rapidly under the torso cast.. She recognized that he was as turned on as she was. And, right in front of her, the biggest piece of evidence, his huge erect cock coated in shaving crème was inches from her. She grabbed the razor and slowly traced from the spot where his massive shaft connect to his body slowly up towards his cock head. There was sparse black course hair on his massive shaft's base. "The hair only goes about halfway up Shell, so you don't have to go the whole length. It gets too sensitive close to the head anyway. Nice and slow just like that, perfect. And then, just rinse of the razor after every few passes." Joe was struggling to speak. It took every ounce of concentration to not groan with pleasure. He had never had his cock shaved by anyone, and the experience was very erotic. He could feel his sister's little fingers trying to grasp his cock to hold it still as the other hand drew slow deliberate shave strokes. Because his cock was so slippery from the shave gel, she kept having to regain her grip on his cock. Her fingers constantly moving on his shaft was the closest thing to a hand job that he had had in way too long. The pleasure was becoming unbearable. Joe feared that he was going to cum all over his sister as she shaved him. "Shell." He hoarsely called to her. "Can you, uh, stop for a sec. My cock is just too sensitive right now." "Ok, that's fine." Shelly wondered what actually he meant. Was she hurting him with the razor? "Did I cut you Joe? I am trying to be as careful as I can." "No you are doing a great job. I am just..." he started. "It's been a long time Shell, and I am just, I'm just..." Joe fumbled with the words. "I am just too over stimulated right now." "Ok Joe. I am just trying to help." Shelly's face blushed with the thought that her own brother had to stop her. She had gotten him too turned on. She had the power to turn her brother on so much that he had to ask her to stop. The thought made her pussy quiver. "I didn't mean to over stimulate it. I have never touched one before. What should I do differently?" Shelly sounded so innocent to her brother. "It's ok Shell. Let's just let the cock cool off for a bit. Maybe, if you switch to my balls it would be better." "Ok I will switch to your balls. Let me know if you need me to stop." "Thanks Shell." She put a big gob of shaving gel in her right hand and reached down pass his huge, erect cock and began to lather up his balls. She looked up at her bother as she began lathering up his scrotem. His head was back and his eyes were closed. His big balls were pulled tight up against his cock. She knew that they did this when a man was cold, or very aroused. She took her time lathering him up. She was relishing both, in the touching of her own brother's massive balls, and teasing him a bit. They had a lot more hair on them then his shaft, and the hair felt prickly on her soft skin. She wondered what they would look like after she had shaved them bald. After massaging his rock hard sacks for as long as she felt she could get away with, Shelly grabbed the razor and began to shave. It wasn't as difficult as her brother described because the skin wasn't loose at all. As she shaved his balls she watched his cock twitch in anticipation. Then she saw something that surprised her. At the very tip of his cock a tiny bubble of a clear liquid had formed. "Shit that must be pre-cum," she thought to herself; and the thought was very arousing. She new men would emit pre-cum right before they ejaculated. It cleaned out their tubes or something she remembered. Was she turning on her brother that much? What would it look like if that massive cock came. What would his cum taste like? How much would there be? Shelly ached to rub her own pussy. She needed relief as well. Shelly finished his balls quickly. She rinsed them and marveled at how much better they looked now that they were smooth. They just begged to be licked, or taken into her mouth. She had seen women in porn do that. Take a man's ball into their mouth and suck on them. And the men seemed to love it. She was quite certain that she could fit one of his massive balls in her mouth. She spent some time inspecting them, studying every vein, marveling at their oval shape, wondering how much cum was in them, wondering how they would feel slamming against her as he fucked her madly. She couldn't imagine that at all. She couldn't imagine a way for that huge cock to fit in her, let allow screw her madly. The force of those huge balls hitting her would surely bruise her. Shelly pretended to shave a spot that she missed on his sack. She just wanted more time to touch and study them. When she was satisfied with her work, she then turned to her brother and asked. "Should I try shaving the shaft now?" He answered with his eyes still closed tight. "Yes, but go slow please and stop if I say so. I don't want to make a mess all over you." Was he talking about cumming all over her? The thought of seeing his massive cock erupt in front of her drove her wild. She slipped her free hand into her jeans. Her pussy was soaked. Her sensitive lips were engorged and open. She was so turned on. She brushed her clit and it sent lightning bolts through her. She took her hand out from her pants and went back to work. She wrapped her hand more tightly than she needed around the shaft of his cock. The force of her hand squeezed the drop of pre-cum out of his cock, and it slowly slid down his enflamed mushroom head and hung off the side. "Hey careful!" He called. Joe was worried on one hand that he would cum all over his sister; and on the other hand, he was so blinded by lust and sexual frustration, that he hoped he would just feel some release. "Sorry," Shelly said. "It's so slippery. Though, I think it is easier to shave when it is hard like this. What are you thinking about anyway Joe?" Joe opened his eyes for a second and saw his gorgeous little sister holding his raging hard-on in her tiny hand. She barely got her tiny hand halfway around it. Her other hand had a razor and was finishing that last few swaths of his cock. Her blonde hair had fallen over her eyes, and she looked ravishing in her old T shirt. "Shelly stop, don't move please!" Joe practically yelled at her. She could feel his massive cock twitch under her hand. It seemed to swell even a bit larger. How was that possible? His balls pulled in even tighter. Joe closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He used every bit of effort to stave off his orgasm. He wanted to cum so badly. But the look in his sister's blue eyes was too much. He couldn't break the relationship they had. She was his little sister. She looked down as his massive organ swelled and twitched. I little more pre-cum oozed out of his cockhead; although, this time it seemed a little less viscous. "Just finish that last patch please and quickly, and then let me sit here and cool off a bit. Thanks so much for helping me sis. I know it was weird, but I need the relief from all of the itching." Shelly cleaned his cock of hair with one last swoop, and then splashed cold water on his tool. Then she sat breathless staring at her brother gorgeous bald cock. It looked even bigger than before, and the baldness called her to try to put it in her mouth, but she resisted. She stood up quickly. "All done Joe. I will come back and dress you in a few." She didn't wait for a response. She rushed in the direction of her room. "Thanks sis, I love you" She heard Joe call over her shoulder. She entered her bedroom, shut the door, and began to satisfy the ache she felt throbbing in her pussy. Helping Hands The mind is an amazing thing when it comes to sexuality. It's capable of imagining things that can drive you wild. For me, when it comes to erotic fiction and fantasy, I tend to lean towards edgy subjects. And while I enjoy reading and writing edgy erotic fiction, that's all they are... pure fiction. If you find some of the stuff I write distasteful or offensive, that's fine. But if that's the case I believe you should exercise your right to look elsewhere. For those that might enjoy my erotic fiction, good for you for having an open mind and feel free to let me know what you think. ***** Chapter 1 SATURDAY MORNING A bit of background might be useful before I tell this story. My name is Tony Martin and I live at home with my mother and twin sister Carly. My dad was a founding partner of a large law firm and he and mum separated a couple of years ago and later divorced. As part of the divorce settlement mum received the family home and sufficient income to live quite a comfortable lifestyle. My sister Carly and I had just completed our first year of commerce/law at university. Basically, life couldn't be better. It's funny though looking back, at how something as simple as a skateboard accident could turn your life upside down. A simple accident that started a series of events I'd never forget. It began a few months ago when I was doing hill runs on my skateboard with a couple of mates. The accident occurred on a speed run when I hit a stone. Needless to say, I threw both arms out to break my fall. I hit the ground so hard I knew I'd done some serious damage, the only question was how much damage. The answer came soon enough with pain shooting up both arms from my wrists. My friends came to my aid straight away. I'd take a bit of skin off but it was the pain in my hands and wrists that worried me. "Shit Tony," my mate Ian said, "what the fuck happened?" "I hit a stone or something." "Are you okay?" he said. "Dunno! My wrists hurt like hell." "We'd better get you home." Jason said. They helped me to the car and sat me on the back seat. I was in quite a bit of pain and hoped I hadn't broken my wrists. On the way home, as the pain intensified, so did my concerns. When we arrived I knew I was in trouble because both wrists were beginning to swell. My mates helped me from the car and walked me to the front door and rang the doorbell. Moments later my mum came to the door and immediately saw I was distressed. "What happened?" She asked. "Came off the skateboard Mum, I've really hurt my wrists." She had a look at the swelling and said she'd take me to hospital for X-Rays. She thanked the guys for bringing me back before taking me inside and packing my wrists in ice. A couple of hours later I was in the emergency ward at our local hospital being examined. The doctor was looking at the X-rays on his light box and my mum was sitting beside me. "Okay," he said, "in your left wrist there are fractures to your radius near your thumb and the ulna bone. In your right wrist there's a single fracture to your radius." "What does that mean doc?" I asked. "It means we're going to have to set both wrists in plaster so they can knit and repair." "For how long?" Mum asked. "About six weeks I'd say but we'll do more X-Rays in a month and have another look." My heart sank when I heard him say that. "So I'll have both arms in plaster?" "Unfortunately yes! And it's not going to be easy for you because even though we can set them in waterproof casts, you're going to be severely restricted in what you can do." "Shit!" I gasped. "I'll call a sister and get the process underway but there's a few things you'll need to consider." The doctor called a nurse and they began preparing me for the casts. During the preparation he told us about things we hadn't considered at that early stage. He explained I wouldn't be able to do even the most rudimentary and personal things such as showering, dressing and even eating. The reality of what was happening really struck me and I felt light headed and nauseous, barely unable to comprehend what the next month or so would be like. I finally found voice to ask, "Does that mean I'll even need help with things like... going to the toilet?" "Most probably Tony, I'm afraid so!" The doctor replied. Mum looked at me and said, "Don't worry mate, we'll work things out." The casts were set leaving only my four fingers on each hand exposed from the knuckles down. My thumbs were almost totally encased in fibreglass and both arms were covered halfway up my forearms. After discharging me mum and I walked to the car. We sat together in silence for a short while before I said, "I don't know what to say Mum, I'm so, so, sorry!" "There's not much you can say Tony. We'll get through this I'm sure. It's only for a few weeks." "Excuse my language but fuck! I can't even take a shower or wipe my bum. Someone will have to do pretty much everything for me. Can we get a nurse in or something?" "We don't need a nurse Tony," she said, "I did those things for you when you were a baby and I can do them for you again now." "Yeah, but I'm eighteen YEARS old now Mum, not eighteen months." "Don't worry. We'll work on a plan when we get home. By the way, how is the pain?" "Not so bad since I took the painkillers." "Good!" When we arrived home my twin sister Carly was wondering where we'd been. She was shocked to see me in plaster so mum sat her down and told her the story. "Hope you don't expect me to wipe your arse!" She said with a wicked smile. "Bitch!" I said with a grin. "Children!" Mum interrupted, "No more fooling around, we've got to come up with a workable plan between us. Fortunately you're both on uni holidays until early February, and I'll be here most of that time as well." We sat there and formulated a plan for the following six weeks. The only glitch in the plan was mum was going to Hamilton Island for ten days with a girlfriend for a holiday. She was going in less than a week so it was decided she'd look after me until then, then Carly would take over. It was obvious Carly wasn't happy with the arrangement and I understood, but the only alternative was for mum to cancel her holiday and none of us wanted that. After dinner that night we watched some television before mum leant over to me and whispered, "I know this is very personal Tony but we need to get you showered. Do you need to go to the toilet?" "Jesus Mum," I said, "it's bad enough for me but it's you guys I feel sorry for." Mum helped to my bedroom and into the ensuite. She helped me through the toilet and somehow she managed to make light of the situation. Back in the bathroom mum undressed to her bra and panties. It wasn't a big deal because I'd seen her countless times in her bikini by the pool. She turned her attention to me and helped me out of my clothes. When she removed my undies I felt embarrassed and exposed. I couldn't remember how long it had been since she'd seen me completely naked. She stepped into the shower stall and turned the shower on, adjusting the temperature. When she was happy she called me in trying to be as discrete as possible to avoid my nakedness. Standing behind me she scrubbed my face and upper torso with the washer. When she got to my hips she paused. "What's wrong?" I said. "Heavens Tony this is silly, I've bathed you hundreds of times before so let's get over ourselves and get the job done. We'll be here all night at this rate." "Okay Mum, do what you have to." Moments later she paused again, "Well, we're at the stage now where I have to get up close and personal. I have to give your privates a wash." "As I said Mum, let's just get it done." She used her hand to rub soap into the crack of my bum spending a bit of extra time with her fingers washing my anus. A couple of times she brushed the back of my testicles and it felt surprisingly good, sending shivers through me. In fact it felt so good I started to become aroused. How embarrassing, I couldn't believe I was becoming erect at such an inappropriate time. Realising mum was just about to start washing my cock and balls I thought I should say something, "Heavens Mum, I'm so embarrassed, for some reason I have an erection." "Hey Baby," she said, "that's understandable, so don't sweat it!" She was standing behind me at the time so she reached around and began lathering my cock and balls. "Wow," she said, "you are in a state aren't you?" The feeling of having her stroking and washing my groin was almost too much and for a second I was worried I might ejaculate. Then suddenly she'd finished and had moved on to my legs and feet. My relief was palpable. She turned the water off, grabbed the towel and started drying me. I was still erect when she began drying my groin and she remarked with a giggle, "Heavens knows what you'll do with THAT tonight!" "I'm really sorry Mum." After helping me with my pyjama shorts we went to the media room and watched TV with Carly. Carly started teasing me about having to be bathed like a child again. I was annoyed but couldn't take my mind off the thought of mum washing and drying my cock and balls. Some time later my thoughts were interrupted by mum announcing she was tired and going to bed. I decided to hit the sack too and as we walked down the hall mum said, "Can I have a quick word?" "Sure!" I replied and we went into my bedroom and closed the door. Mum looked uneasy and said, "I don't want you to be embarrassed about what happened in the shower tonight. It was a perfectly natural thing for a young man to become aroused under those circumstances." I said, "Yeah, but you're my mother, and it was embarrassing." "Tony, we have to get over ourselves. I know it's awkward but everything will be much easier if we relax and dispense with the modesty." It sounded reasonable but I guessed the reality would be something else. Still I agreed to chill out and let her get on with the job and she seemed pleased. What I didn't figure on was what happened the following evening. Helping Hands After that little Halloween incident with my gynecologist, Dr. Markus DeShade and his band of kinky cohorts, he has been exceptionally nice to me. So has his wife Evelyn, although I think her interest is more on the Sapphic side. Tall, good-looking women tend to become attracted to me, as was the case with my German friend, Eva Reichman (see Cat's Discovery). Anyway, I was getting my monthly physical (my doctor is VERY dedicated), my feet in the stirrups, and Dr. DeShade was happily humming some familiar tune I couldn't quite identify, his face mere inches from my pussy. He was poking and prodding away with his fingers, digging deep into my female plumbing, presumably looking for buried treasure. Good thing I douched before coming to my appointment; my watuzi still smelled like a pina colada. "Very nice Ms Wolff, you're as clean as a whistle. Funny, I have this overwhelming desire for conch fritters and jerk chicken, not sure why though. And I'd swear I hear steel drums playing somewhere. Hmm, anyway Ms Wolff, I thought I told you to keep your crotch shaved bare, not even stubble! And your anus too. Are you using the depilatory I prescribed for you?" "Yes Doctor, I just didn't get to it this week, sorry." "No excuses now. All women should stay clean and smooth at all times, prevents all kinds of bugs from growing inside of you. You don't want a vaginal infection, or a urinary tract disease do you? Of course not! So let's get you cleaned up here, then I'll expect you to maintain this pretty little pussy of yours on your own." Before I could protest, Dr. DeShade opened a drawer and pulled out a safety razor and a can of shaving cream. Whistling that unknown, but familiar tune again, he lathered up my entire pubic area and then down under and all around my butt hole. Just as he was about to start shaving, the intercom buzzed. "Oh my, I've been waiting for this call, its long distance. I'll be right back, don't go anywhere." The doctor dashed out of the office, forgetting to close the door. Just great, I thought to myself, I'm laying here naked (the doctor doesn't allow me to have any clothes on during the examination) with my feet up in the air, my legs spread as wide as they will go, shaving cream lathered all over my privates. I'm a fairly patient woman, but this was becoming a bit too much! After all, I have things to do too! I was going to give the doctor a piece of my mind when he got back. Just then, two young doctors, both looking like they just graduated from high school, walked past the exam room door. They both stopped short, staring in at the spectacle before them: namely me, spread out for them in all my glory, covered in shaving cream. They looked at each other, then up and down the hallway, and not seeing anybody else around, came in to my room and closed the door. "Sorry to bother you ma'am, but we're both interns, and we were told to check in on each patient to observe and learn. What seems to be the problem here today?" "I'm just getting my monthly check-up, and the doctor was about to shave my lower regions when he got called away. This is rather embarrassing actually." "Nothing to be embarrassed about ma'am, we're professionals! So when did you first start having problems with your, uh, lower regions?" "I'm not having a problem with my lower regions you idiot! I'm just here for a routine check-up. The doctor wants me to stay shaved down there so I don't get any diseases. Sheesh!" The interns turned and looked at each other in disbelief. It was painfully obvious they were new and had little or no experience with good female hygiene for disease prevention. "Uh, sorry ma'am, we've never heard of using that method before. You say you come in for regular MONTHLY exams?" "Yes, yes, Dr. DeShade is very thorough. He knows what he's doing. Now you two better leave before he gets back." "Say Ben, we could perform this procedure, and save Dr. DeShade the time and trouble. After all, we're interns, and we're supposed to get as much hands-on experience as possible." "I think you're right Jerry, it seems easy enough. Let's do it! I'll bet we'll get kudos for this!" "Excuse me, hello? Don't I have any say so in this? Dr. DeShade is very particular about his work, I'm not so sure this is a good idea." "Don't worry ma'am, we're professionals! We'll have you as smooth as a baby's butt in no time. Dr. DeShade will be very proud of how brave you are. Hand me that razor Ben, and grab one for yourself. Do you think we should put masks on?" "I don't think that's necessary Jerry. I brushed my teeth right after breakfast, how about you?" "Me too. Besides, it smells like a tropical island in here, like coconuts or something. How could germs survive around here? Okay, I'm going in, wish me luck." "Good luck Jerry, I'm right here with you, just you and me, side-by-side, bosom buddies, ying and yang, hand-in-hand, the alpha and the omega, the two musketeers, Abbott and Costello, . . . " "OKAY ALREADY! I GET IT!!" "Well excuuuuuse meeeeee!!!" "And don't do your Steve Martin impersonation either, we don't want to make the patient laugh, she might get all shook up and one of us might shave off the wrong thing." "You mean . . . . " "Yes, I'm talking about her love button, her pearl of Venus, her nubbin of nookie, her . . ." "HEY!!! Okay you guys, what's all this talk about cutting off my clit? Are you two really doctors? Are you sure you know what you're doing? Do we really need to have a comedy routine going on here?" "Comedy is the best stress reliever, other than sex; we were just trying to help you to relax before the procedure." "Can we get on with it then? I really have to be somewhere this afternoon." "Well if you'll stop interrupting us, maybe we can get this done sometime today. Ben, would you kindly re-apply some shave lubricant." Dr Ben squirted the shaving cream just above my slit, then proceeded to smear it all over my pubis. He even managed to get some inside my vagina, inserting two fingers deep within the meaty folds, pumping them in and out like a little miniature dildo. I didn't think I was growing any hair in there, but I guess he could see better than me. Besides, it felt rather good. "Mmmmmmm" "Please Miss, try not to squirm around so much. Ben, do you think you could put that stuff on the OUTSIDE?" After Dr Ben finished, Dr Jerry started shaving. He ran the blade all over the area, using his fingers to protect the sensitive vaginal lips. Dr Ben held my legs further apart by pushing outward on my inner thighs. Once he finished, Dr Jerry dampened a towel with warm water and wiped the excess shaving cream off my crotch, paying special attention to my pussy. "Now on to the anus. Ben, would you care to try your hand at this one? Its not as critical as the vaginal region, but just as important." "I'd be honored sir. Could you push her legs back further please? Good job man." Standing behind me and taking my feet out of the stirrups, Dr Jerry grabbed my legs behind each knee and pulled back, holding my thighs against the sides of my head. Now my ass was raised up off the table, leaving my butt hole fully exposed. "What a nice looking poop shoot you have there Miss." Following the same procedure as his partner before him, Dr Ben lathered up my entire rectal area. He also inserted a finger into my ass, twirling it around for good measure. Good thing I had cleaned myself out before leaving the house. When showering, I usually place the hand held shower sprayer up against both my pussy and my ass, sending a jet of water into each orifice. I clean everything out and give myself a mini orgasm all in one shot. I'm efficient that way. Dr Ben then shaved me around my anal ring, back up to my pussy, then back down and all around again. Once he was done, he took the same towel as before, and wiped everything up all nice and clean and dry. "There, that should do ma'am. I think Dr DeShade will be very happy with this. Say Jerry, shouldn't we apply a salve to the shaved areas, to keep the skin from becoming irritated?" Dr Jerry, who was still helping me to keep my ears warm with my own thighs, replied, "Why yes of course. We don't want any redness or soreness showing up. That wouldn't make Dr DeShade happy at all." I piped up, "That's okay doctors, my skin never gets irritated. If you'll kindly let me up so I can get dressed and get the hell out of here, I'd appreciate it." Ignoring me, Dr Jerry said, "Ben, do you want to take care of the regions you worked on, then we'll switch and I'll do my part?" "Most assuredly sir." With that said, Dr Ben began to assault my ass with his tongue, licking and slurping his way to my little pink hole, darting his tongue inside. He placed his entire mouth around my asshole and began eating out my rectum. He licked all around my entire butt, including both cheeks, all the way up to my pussy. He stopped short there, then went back down to my anus. I was writhing and swaying in pleasure, trying to keep from falling off the table. It was a good thing Dr Jerry maintained a firm grip on my knees, or I would have been on the floor for sure! "Uhhhhhhh . . . ohhhhhhh . . . goddddd . . . that feels soooooo good." "Say Ben, I'm thinking the lady needs a special ointment for her sensitive skin. You know the kind I mean." "I think you're right Jerry, I've got a tube of the stuff right here." Dr Ben dropped his pants to the floor, climbed up onto the table on his knees, and placed the tip of his cock against my butt hole. He had gotten me so lubricated with his saliva, he pushed once and was in to the hilt. Fortunately he wasn't exactly hung like a horse He began a slow rhythmic pumping, his balls hitting my ass cheeks on each inbound thrust. Using the fingers from both hands, he played with my pussy lips, pinching my clit between thumb and forefinger. "OHHH . . . GODDD . . . " In the meantime, still holding my legs back behind my ears, Dr Jerry was playing with my tits, twisting and mauling them, pulling my nipples up then letting them snap back. Dr Ben continued stuffing his meat into my colon, thrusting faster and faster. All of a sudden he pulled out and grabbing his prick in one hand, shot a huge load of spunk all over my ass. He was furiously jerking his hose, spraying semen all over the place. When his spasms subsided, he used his hand to rub his sperm into my skin, coating my entire ass. "There, doesn't that feel better now? That should prevent any rashes from forming. Jerry? Shouldn't you follow-up with your area? After all, I only focused on her posterior, you need to treat the other regions. Let's switch places." Getting off the table, Dr Ben shuffled over to Dr Jerry and took hold of my legs in the same fashion. Dr Jerry practically ran to the other end of the table, dropping his pants along the way. I was still in a daze from the ass fucking I had just received. Following the other doctor's example, Dr. Jerry climbed up on to the table on his knees. "I think you'll find the patient well lubricated from my own ministrations there, as well as from her own secretions. You can add some of your own if you think it will be necessary." "Just a touch I think." Dr Jerry began licking my pussy, flattening his tongue against my slit. He then darted inside, swirling around my clit, nibbling gently, sucking the little nubbin into his mouth. "Uhhhhhhhh . . . nnnnnnnnfffff . . . mmmmmmmm . . . yeahhhhh . . . eat it eat it!" Having gotten me sopping wet, Dr Jerry got up on his knees and put his cock to my slit. Fortunately, he WAS hung like a horse. He slipped about eight inches in before meeting resistence, with another three or four inches still knocking at the door. If he wasn't as wide as a Coke can, he might have gotten more in, but that was all she wrote. Looking me in the eyes, he shrugged and began pumping that monster in and out, trying on each thrust for more depth. It wasn't meant to be, so I had to make the best of it. I climaxed on his fourth thrust. "OHHHHHGODDAMFUCKMEEEEE!!!!" Again following Dr Ben's lead, Dr Jerry pulled his python out of my sorely stretched twat and sprayed a load of cum all over my crotch, my belly, even my tits took a hit. Grabbing his huge balls I rolled them around, making sure all the fluid was out. I looked like I was coated in warm vanilla icing. Dr Ben let go of my legs so I could stretch them out and lay flat. Still holding his horse cock, Dr Jerry cinched forward on his knees until the tip was inches from my nose. "We need to clean the medical equipment, if you'd be so kind . . . " Even though he wasn't rock hard any more, I couldn't get much more than the helmet into my mouth, but I cleaned him up as best I could. Using my tongue, I licked the shaft up and down and all around, until it was sparkling. That mammoth bone was clean enough to eat off of. No one was going to accuse me of being a slacker! Dr Ben quickly replaced Dr Jerry, kneeling and straddling my chest. His dick was much smaller and I was able to engulf the entire thing. I sucked and slurped and polished that thing until it was as cum free as his partner's. He even insisted I clean up his balls, which had gotten some drippings on them. When I was finished, the doctors moistened more towels with warm water, and started giving me a sponge bath. By the time they were done, I was as spotless as if I'd never had a cum shower at all! They pulled their pants back on and left, congratulating each other on a job well done. Gathering up my clothes, I got dressed and tried to sneak out of the building. There was no telling what they were going to try and charge me for that kind of treatment, with three doctors's bills and all. I may be blonde, but I'm no fool! Just as I was about to make my escape, Dr DeShade came out of his office and saw me. "Ms. Wolff, wait one moment please." Damn, nabbed again. "My wife is in a bit of a dilemma. As you know, she's a chiropractor and has two massage therapists on staff at all times. As luck would have it, both are out sick with the flu and there's a client who's expecting his treatment this evening. He and I went to medical school together and my wife has been treating him for years. He's a plastic surgeon, quite wealthy actually and would be extremely disappointed if he didn't receive his therapy as promised. My wife is desperate, she doesn't want to lose his business. I mentioned you were here today and she asked if you might be interested in making some extra money this evening. She charges a fee of $500 to the client and usually keeps half and gives the other half to the therapist. In this case, so as not to lose the account, she'll let you keep the whole fee if you'll do this for her. I'm told this client tips well, another $500 or so. You could make $1000 for a couple hours of easy work. What say?" "I don't know anything about massage therapy, what would I have to do?" "Oh its simple really, haven't you ever given your husband a back rub? I have one of my wife's textbooks around here somewhere. It has illustrations and simple instructions. You'd be a natural, trust me. Tell you what, I'll take you there, I need to catch up with Bob anyway. I'll keep him occupied with talk of old times, and all you have to do is work your magic. Deal?" Hmm, a thousand bucks for a back rub? How could I turn that down? I should start charging Wolfie! "Okay, I'll do it. What should I wear, I don't have nurse's scrubs or anything like that." "Its like exercising at the gym, you'll probably work up a sweat. I've seen the regular girls wearing tank tops and shorts, even bathing suits on occasion, so I'd recommend something like that. Its up to you of course, but you want to make sure you get that tip eh? If you get my drift?" Then he winked. Okay so I needed to dress comfortably, yet provocatively, if I wanted a good tip. No problem, I worked for a day at Hooters on a dare, and I made more in tips in one evening than I made as an engineering consultant. And that was a lot of work! How hard could this be? Dr DeShade arranged to pick me up at my house at 7PM, and would drive me to the client's estate. Once I got home, I ate a quick salad for dinner, then took a shower. My morning encounter with the interns left me smelling like a French whore, or actually, like any typical French woman (after all, what's the difference?). I shaved my legs, touching up my crotch and ass crack, as the doctor had ordered. I also douched and enemized; I liked being clean inside and out. I decided to compromise on the clothes, wearing a two piece thong bikini and loose cotton short shorts. It was somewhat cool outside in the mountain air, so I threw on a warm up suit. Dr DeShade picked me up right on time and off we went. We made pleasant small talk until arriving at the estate. It was a sprawling Lindal cedar home, with windows everywhere, sitting on a bluff overlooking the west prong of the Little Pigeon River below, the town of Gatlinburg off in the distance. Behind it were the Great Smoky Mountains, Mt. LeConte easily visible on this clear, cool night. The place had to be worth $2 mil easy. "He's got 10 acres on the bluff, which is practically unheard of. I think he paid over a million for it." Robert Moore greeted us at the door. A fine looking man, about 56, with a shock of steel gray hair, over six feet tall, and fit. My kind of man. Well, okay, any man is my kind of man, but he was a hunky-looking mature guy. I felt a familiar tingling in my nether regions. "Marky, how are you? Long time, no see. And who is this lovely woman with you?" "Bob Moore, meet Ms. Cat Wolff, my wife's new masseuse. She's going to administer your therapy this evening." "Wonderful! Its always nice having a good looking lady running her hands all over one's body. Come in, come in." Bob led us through the house, into a large sunroom overlooking the bluff. In the daylight this must have some view, I thought. The interior was exposed post and beam, rustic but classy. There was a massage bed set up in the middle of the room. Bob said, "Let's get to it, shall we? I'll excuse myself for a moment to remove my clothes and wrap myself with a towel, if that's okay with Ms Wolff." "Sure, its okay with me I guess." After Bob left the room, Dr DeShade handed me a small duffel bag containing several massage oils and hand towels. When Bob returned, he was wearing a towel around his waist and nothing else. He climbed onto the bed, laying on his stomach. Dr DeShade sat in an overstuffed leather recliner near Bob's head, and they began an animated conversation. It was warm inside the house, so I removed the warm up suit and took a bottle of oil from the bag the doctor had given me. Dr DeShade stopped in mid-sentence, looking me up and down. Bob raised his head off the table and turned to see what caught the doctor's attention. He looked directly into my eyes and smiled. "Ms. Wolff, you are an extremely good looking woman. This will be the best massage I've ever had, I'm sure." "Thanks Mr. Moore, I'll do my best. You can call me Cat." I poured some oil onto Bob's back and began to knead and rub the skin. He and Dr DeShade went back to talking about old times. I really started getting into it, digging my fingers in, making large circular motions with the palms of my hands. I started working on his neck and shoulders, using more oil as I went along. "Mmmmm that feels wonderful Cat, could you do the shoulders a little more?" Even though the table was set fairly low I'm somewhat short, and I was not able to reach all the way across Bob's body from either side. So I was switching back and forth from one side to the other, which was becoming tiresome. "Mr. Moore, if its okay with you, I'm going to climb up on the table and straddle your back, then I can do both shoulders and the neck all at the same time." Helping Hands "Are you kidding? Go for it Cat, its just like riding a horse right? I'll try not to buck you too hard, hahaha. Oh and, by the way, please call me Bob." I climbed onto the table, placing my legs on either side of Bob's torso. My shorts opened slightly at the crotch, and my thong covered pussy made contact with the skin on Bob's back. I think he noticed. "By the way Cat," Dr DeShade offered, "My wife's regular female therapist uses a massage technique involving her bare breasts, something she learned in Japan. If you're interested in learning the technique, I could teach it to you. I'm sure Bob wouldn't mind being a test subject." I said, "Well, I don't know Dr. DeShade, that doesn't sound very professional." Then Bob said, "I'll tell you what, I'd like to buy your bikini top for $200. Will you sell it to me?" I thought to myself, two hundred dollars for half a bathing suit? One I bought in Walmart two years ago? This didn't seem right somehow. "Come, come, Miss Wolff, it's a perfectly normal procedure. There's nothing to be shy about, Mr. Moore and I have seen plenty of breasts. If you want to learn the business you'll have to follow my instructions. Now, off with it, I insist!" Before I could respond, Dr. DeShade untied the strings holding my top in place and it slid right off. I picked up the top and handed it to Bob. My bare breasts were now fully exposed to the two men, my nipples beginning to harden. "Thank you Cat, put it on my tab. We'll settle up before you leave." Then Dr. DeShade stood up and came over to the table. Grabbing a bottle of massage oil, he said, "Okay Cat, here's what you do. You pour a generous amount of oil on your breasts, specifically close to the nipple region, like so." The doctor poured the oil onto my breasts, coating the nipples and a large circular area beyond. The oil began to drip onto Bob's back. "Then, before you lose it all, you use your breasts instead of your hands, kneading them directly into the client's skin. Just use your hands to keep your balance. Here, lean down to his back and I'll show you." I'd never heard of this method before, but who was I to question anything? After all, the doctor was a professional and his wife did this for a living. It must be one of those well-kept secrets only the rich and famous knew about. I leaned forward, touching my nipples to Bob's shoulder blades. Dr. DeShade held one breast with both hands and mashed it down into Bob's skin, making circular motions. I got the idea and really began to push my large, firm breasts into Bob's back, massaging his skin with my tits. The doctor continued to hold my boob, although I didn't think it was necessary at this point, I got the idea. "Do his neck Cat. Here, I'll be the oil man." Dr. DeShade put a little more oil on both my titties, and then I really started grinding into Bob's neck, one boob on each side below his ears and the center of my cleavage directly into the back of his neck. Dr. DeShade pushed my breasts together, squeezing Bob's neck in between. I began crawling backwards, rubbing my breasts into Bob's flesh, working my way down his back. When I got to the top of the towel encircling his waist I thought to myself, now what was I supposed to do? Dr DeShade answered my thoughts for me. "The therapist usually asks the client if they're more comfortable removing the towel or leaving it on. In this case, I imagine it's the former." "By all means Cat, let's get rid of the towel, I'd like the full treatment. Be a good girl and take it away. Thanks." Bob raised his pelvis, and I pulled the towel out. Now he was completely naked still laying face down on the table. I continued backing up, massaging Bob's butt cheeks, working my breasts around and around his smooth skin. So I wouldn't fall off the table, I turned around facing Bob's feet. As the doctor held my boobs together, occasionally applying small amounts of oil, I worked my way down one leg, then the other, giving both feet a good workout as well. Bob had spread his legs apart, and I could see his balls, which looked rather large. Turning back around again to face his head, I began working back up to Bob's ass, rubbing all around his anus, lightly brushing his nuts with each nipple. When Bob began to squirm, I thought I was hurting him, so I stopped for a moment. "Come on Cat, let's get down in between there, the scrotum is very important to a man's health and well-being. It needs proper manipulation and stimulation. Its all very technical, I'm sure you wouldn't understand the details. Here, I'll push your booby down in there for you. That's a girl, work it in there good. You've got plenty of tit flesh, lets not waste it." With one breast down in between Bob's legs, massaging his balls, my face was mere inches from his ass crack. "Here now Cat, pay attention and learn. No, don't stop rubbing Bob's ball sack, keep that boob down in there good and tight. That's a good girl. Now, have you ever felt a man's prostate? No? Well, damn girl, where have you been living, in a cave? Here, give me your hand. Now, I'm going to put some oil on your fingers. Now a little bit on Bob's bung hole. Mr. Moore, could you spread your legs a bit farther? Jolly good, that'll do. Now Miss Cat, take your index finger like so, and place it on the anus like so, now push in gently until its all the way in. Keep that titty moving around his balls girl, for god's sake! Now, feel around, don't be shy. Just take your time. Do you feel a bit of a lump in there? Keep searching, its there, unless Mr. Bob's had it removed? No?" I had my finger in Bob's ass, as far as it would go, and I was feeling around. This all seemed so foolish; after all, what did I know about prostates? Bob was really squirming around now, and was moaning softly. I was so afraid I was hurting him, thank goodness the doctor was by my side. I still didn't see what this had to do with massages, but this was my first time, so I assumed it was above board and all. The doctor was still manipulating my breasts, or at least the one not occupied with Bob's gonad massage. "Do you feel it? Well?" "I'm sorry doctor, I'm just not sure." "Here, get down off the table a minute. Let me show you what I'm talking about." "Is this really that important? After all, this is just a body massage." "Important? Of course its important you silly girl. A man Bob's age needs to have his prostate massaged regularly, otherwise he's prone to all sorts of diseases. This is a vital part of the therapist's job. You must take care of all the client's needs, no matter how odd or unusual they may seem to you personally. Is that understood?" "Yes doctor." "Good. Now let me demonstrate on you. I know you don't have one, but I can show you where to look. Take your shorts off please." "But doctor, I don't see . . . " "Please Miss Cat! This is serious! You must receive the proper training. Now off with them." This was becoming more embarrassing by the moment. I slowly eased my shorts off, now standing in front of these two men in just my thong bikini bottoms. Both Dr DeShade and Bob were looking me up and down, lingering first on my bare breasts, then a little lower, at my barely covered pussy. "You should thank me for making you stay completely shaved down there Miss Cat. Otherwise, you'd never be able to wear such a skimpy bathing suit. You look scrumptious, by the way." "Very scrumptious my dear," Bob added. "Thank you. Could we get on with it then? I'm really feeling quite self-conscious standing here in front of the two of you like this." "Nonsense. Don't worry your pretty little head. Nothing to be self-conscious about with us, right Bob?" "Right Marky. Strictly for educational purposes." "Exactly. Now, Miss Cat, I'd like you to bend over, elbows on the table, right next to Bob's hip. Good girl. Now, I want you to put your finger in Bob's ass again. There she goes, very good. Feel around, twirl it, shove it in and out, get used to it, we don't want you to be shy about it." Bob was moaning and squirming again. I really was trying to find that damn prostate so we could continue the therapy. But I just didn't see what the big deal was. I now had two fingers in past the last knuckle in his ass, and was digging around in earnest. Bob didn't seem to mind at all. "Before I insert my finger into your posterior Miss Wolff, I want to explain a couple of options for lubrication. Keep working on Bob's rectum, use three fingers if necessary. There's a good girl. How's that Mr. Bob, not too uncomfortable? Good thing Cat has slim digits eh?" "Uuuhhh, ooohhhh, mmmmmm, noooooo, s'okay." "Good. Now, Miss Wolff, occasionally the massage therapist forgets to bring reserve supplies of massage oil. Obviously the prostate portion of the massage requires some sort of lubricant. What's a person to do you say? For starters, saliva works well in a pinch. You can gather up a good mouthful and slowly let it drip onto the clients butt crack, like so." The doctor pulled my ass cheeks apart, pulling the thong to one side, and dribbled his spit onto my butt. I felt the liquid running down toward my little pink hole. "Then using one finger, gather up a good portion of the spit and push directly into the opening, like so." "OOOH! Geez Doctor DeShade, are you sure you put enough on there? It feels rather tight." "Well Miss Cat, you are rather petite, and my finger is somewhat plump. You know what they say about a man with plump fingers don't you? A clear sign all his protuberances are plump! HAHAHA! Get it?" "Yes Doctor I get it. Uh . . . uh . . . um can we . . . oh my . . . ouch! . . . uh, get on with it then?" The doctor was ramming his finger in and out of my ass, which didn't seem to be an effective way of looking for a gland of any sort. And it was getting dry again. "Sorry Miss Wolff, got carried away there for a second. You have such a lovely ass, I couldn't resist. Back to work then. Saay! Mr. Bob, would you like to see the demonstration? Who knows, you might want to try this out on your next girlfriend. For therapeutic purposes of course." "Of course. I'd love to learn from the master." "Stay where you are then. Miss Cat, come around to the front here so Bob can watch. Bend over the arm of this chair and spread your legs as far apart as possible. Be a good girl now." This was really becoming too much. I fully intended to do some research of my own and verify exactly what sort of technique the doctor was practicing. I came around to the front of the table and leaned over the arm of the chair, spreading my legs. "You know, Dr Mark, that thong is really a nuisance, its blocking my view. Couldn't we just have her remove it?" "Well I was trying to maintain some semblance of modesty for Miss Cat's sake. But you're right of course, its quite troublesome. Miss Cat, please stand up and remove the rest of your bathing suit, then resume the position." "Wait a minute! Is this really necessary? After all, I'm supposed to be giving a massage, not posing for a men's magazine." "Miss Wolff! I am truly shocked at your attitude. My wife and I charge hundreds of dollars for the very same lessons you're receiving for free. I am appalled!" "Well, I'm sorry. It just seemed like you were getting carried away here. Hundreds of dollars you say? And I'm getting free lessons? Well, okay, under those circumstances, I can go along. Thank you for not charging me." "Its quite alright. And we should thank Mr. Bob for allowing us free use of his house and his body for training, don't you think?" "Thank you Mr. Moore." "No problem here, my pleasure to be of service. Now, about that thong . . . " I turned my back on the two men and pulled the bottoms off. Then I bent over the chair again, spreading my legs as far as they would go. Hundreds of dollars in free lessons? It's true what they say about us blondes, we can get away with anything! Men are soooo gullible. "Very good. By the way Bob, did you notice Miss Wolff's vaginal lips? They're quite thick and puffy, no loose flapping meat anywhere. A sure sign of a strong, healthy woman. Due, no doubt, to the excellent medical care she receives, as well as her own rigorous exercise program and healthy eating habits." "I did notice them Doctor Mark, quite pleasing to the eye. And to the palate, no doubt." "Yes, no doubt. Anyway, as I was demonstrating earlier for Miss Wolff, a bit of spittle will work as a lubricant for insertion of one's digit into a willing rectum. I dripped the saliva from my mouth directly onto the butt crack. Another way would be to apply the saliva using one's tongue, like so." Dr. DeShade then knelt behind me, pulling my cheeks apart, and placed his face in between them. He ran his tongue up and down my ass crack, then began licking my anus. He was using his tongue to push saliva into my butt hole, shoving it in like a mini penis. "Miss Wolff! You have the most delicious tasting ass I've ever encountered. It reminds me of creme brulee. Excellent!" In fact, that was the name of the soap I had used to cleanse myself with earlier. Dr. DeShade resumed his ministrations, continuing to lick me up and down. My entire ass was coated in his saliva, and my bung hole was leaking with his spit. "Dr. Mark, I can't see Miss Wolff's hole. Move aside for a second." The doctor leaned to one side so Bob could see. Then the doctor placed his index finger on my anus and slowly worked it in. I was the one now moaning and squirming, and I nearly slipped off the chair. "Miss Wolff, please maintain your position. Grab the other arm of the chair and hold on. Here, I'll tie your hands in place, it'll be safer for you that way." Dr DeShade went to the other side of the chair and, pulling some leather straps from a drawer in the end table, attached my wrists to the legs of the recliner. This was getting a bit kinky now. "Doctor, I really don't think that's necessary. I can hold on well enough without the restraints." "Nonsense young lady. This will prevent you from hurting yourself. Now, besides saliva there are other alternatives for rectal lubricants. Your own vaginal secretions will work quite well. Here, let me dig out a bit from you. There we go, plenty to spare I see." The doctor shoved four fingers into my cunt, twisted them around a bit, and then withdrew them completely covered with my fluids. He then smeared the juices all over the inside of my butt crack. "My goodness Miss Wolff, you are a wet one." "Mmmmmm . . . oh oh uh uh uh . . . gawd!" "Common household items, like lard, shortening, and vegetable oil are fairly obvious. It's a good idea to use organic substances, food-based products actually. Those will be less likely to cause undue irritation of the colon. Mr Bob, what have you got in your kitchen?" "Lots of stuff Doctor Mark. Why don't you go have a look see." "Good idea, I'll be right back. You two stay put for a moment." Dr DeShade dashed off towards the kitchen. Bob and I chatted about the weather, which was a bit surreal, seeing as how I was bent over a chair, tied to the legs and Bob was laying on a massage table, both of us completely naked. Well, at least I still had my sneakers and socks on, but that's all. Dr DeShade came back with an armful of food items. "Here we go. For example, butter, or margarine, would work well. Just dig into the stuff, coat your fingers like so, and insert." He buttered up my butt, poking his fingers into my ass again. It did seem like it was working. I hardly felt his two fingers twirling around inside me. "Next we have peanut butter. Only use the creamy kind of course, and the natural stuff works wonders. Good and oily. Oops, lets get this other stuff out first. Damn butter doesn't want to wipe off your ass Miss Cat. Mr. Bob? Care to help here? I think the tongue's abrasive texture will do the trick. Go for it man, get her cleaned up please." Bob jumped off the massage table, his semi-erect cock bobbing all around. He was HUGE! Bob put his face to my wide open ass and began licking all the butter off my crack. He had to dig in deep into my hole to get it out, but still missed some. "Uh uh uh uh . . . oooh . . . gaaaaa . . . bu bu bu . . . BOB!" When he looked up his face was shiny with melting butter. "That'll do Bob. Now, here's some peanut butter. Coat your fingers like this, then slip them in to the opening. That's it, you've got it!" Now Bob was inserting the sticky substance into my ass, ramming two fingers in and out. Amazingly, it worked quite well also. "Here, I'll clean this one up. I have a penchant for the gooey brown stuff. Mmmmmmm" The doctor was making a lot of noise, slurping and smacking his lips. He had peanut butter all over his face. "There's no way to get it all right now, we'll need to clean her up with a good shower later. Next we have chocolate syrup. No fake stuff, only the real thing will do. Now we know where the term Hershey highway comes from eh? Hahahaha" Squirting the sweet dark liquid all over my ass and inside my crack, Doctor DeShade shoved two fat fingers into my butt hole, slowly working them all the way in. Unbelievable! It does work as a lubricant. "Now adding a little whipped cream for decoration, we have a thorough massage AND dessert! Hohohoweee! What do you think Bob?" "I think all we need is to shove a banana in her pussy and we'd have a banana split!" I'd had just about enough. "Doctor DeShade really! I think this has gone far enough. I've cooperated with you, allowed you to use me for training purposes, gotten myself tied up and naked, had my ass eaten out several times, all in the name of a good body massage. I think we should at least get back to the task at hand." "You're right of course. Okay Mr Bob, back on the table. Get on your back this time, we'll have Miss Wolff do the front now." Bob jumped back on the table, his prodigious pecker flopped to one side. God he was big! Dr DeShade untied me from the chair. "Now Miss Wolff, getting back to the massage. As I said before, a man's prostate must be kept stimulated and cleaned out. Now you know how to massage it from the inside, and what to use for lubrication. The next step would be to empty it out, clean the pipes, so to speak. This is where your large breasts will really come in handy. Applying more oil to the area between your boobs, like this, you would then use them to massage the client's penis until he ejaculates, thus cleansing the prostate. Go ahead, give it a whirl." "WHAT??!! This has been extremely embarrassing right from the beginning. I'm standing here naked in front of two men, one of which I just met this evening, with butter and peanut butter and chocolate syrup and whipped cream all over my ass and up inside my rectum. Now you want me to jerk him off with my tits? What are you talking about? Am I doing massages or turning tricks?" "Miss Wolff!!! Are you accusing me of being a pimp? These are all very legitimate medical procedures and if you don't want to proceed, we'll stop right now and that'll be the end of it. What's your decision?" Before I could say anything, Bob interjected, "Please Miss Wolff, I mean Cat, please do this for me? I'll double your fee and still pay you an extra $400 for your bathing suit. What do you say? Please???" I can't resist men who beg. Dammit all to hell! It's a good thing I got those expensive lessons from the doctor for free. And Bob's offer helped a bit too. "Oh for god's sake, alright, lets finish it then. Doctor, could you please put a little more oil on my boobies? Thank you. Now, I'll have to get back up on the table to do this, I can't reach from here." With that, I climbed up on the table, looking towards Bob's feet, my ass pointing towards his head. I wrapped my oil covered boobs around Bob's cock and began a slow, methodical titty fuck. Up and down, holding my tits tight against Bob's huge python. Soon, he was rock hard, his cock a good ten inches long and over three inches in diameter. I began going faster and faster, the fat tip of Bob's prick disappearing and re-appearing from in between my cleavage. Bob was groaning and squirming, and I figured it wouldn't be too long before I had his pipes all flushed out. Helping Hands All of a sudden, I felt pressure at my asshole. Turning my head around, I saw Dr DeShade up on the table with me, naked from the waist down, cock in hand. He was attempting to penetrate my rectum! At first I was going to protest; instead, I spread my knees farther apart, giving the doctor easier access to my ass. I continued to fuck Bob's fat cock with my oiled tits, and soon I was rewarded for my efforts. "OH GOD CAT!!! I"M CUMMING!!!" Bob must have shot a quart of jism, most of which landed on my neck and upper chest. One stray shot hit me in the cheek, just below my right eye. I continued to milk him, now using a tight grip with both hands. I leaned forward, sucking the tip into my mouth, and then I ran my tongue up and down the shaft, cleaning off every drop of spunk. I also cleaned up his balls, licking them all around. In the mean time, Dr DeShade was fucking my ass with his six inch tube steak, pumping hard and fast. In no time at all he was cumming too, filling my ass with his sticky white protein. "OH MISS WOLFF, I'M FUCKING YOU! I CUM INSIDE YOU! OH BLOODY FUCKING HELL!!" When he was finished ejaculating, Dr DeShade's pecker slipped out of my well-lubed ass. I turned around to face him, and began to clean up his prick as well. His was coated with a variety of substances, including peanut butter, chocolate, whipped cream, pussy cream, and semen. It actually tasted pretty good, and I soon found myself feasting on his delicious cock. Once I had him all cleaned up, I turned back around and faced Bob's feet again. "Gentlemen? I believe you owe me a reciprocal cleansing. I'd like my ass and pussy cleaned and spotless. Pretty please?" I lowered my dripping cunt onto Bob's face and he began eating me out in earnest. Dr DeShade eagerly lowered his mouth to my butt and began an oral assault on my ass crack and anus, darting his tongue deep into my asshole. He reamed me out, licking and sucking up everything. Besides the remaining food lubes, he also ate his own jism, something he seemed to relish. OOOOHH . . . GEEZ . . . UUSSS . . . MMMMMMMM . . . BOB . . . MOORE . . . MOORE . . . UH UH UH . . . DOCTOR . . . MARKY BABY!!!!!! The boys had my entire pelvic area, front and back, spotlessly clean in less than twenty minutes. I had several orgasms along the way due to Bob's expert clit chewing, in addition to the one or two during the great ass fucking the doctor gave me. I noticed Bob's mammoth prick still looked hard. When they were through, the boys collapsed onto the floor, passed out cold. I was still laying on the massage bed, lightly stroking my outer pussy lips, staring at Bob's fat salami, still half erect and twitching. Mmmmmmm, SUPERSIZE ME! Even the doctor's average sized pecker looked tasty enough to take home in a doggy bag. I got off the table and walked over to where Bob was laying on the floor snoring. I grabbed his mammoth cock and lowered my pussy onto it. I didn't think it would fit, but with a little effort, I was able to get about half of it in before I hit bottom. I bounced up and down a few times and was able to get myself off pretty quickly. "Uh uh oh oh oh shit . . . mmmmm yeah . . . uh uh uh . . . gaaaaaaaaa!" What the hell was wrong with me? Was I turning into a sex addict or something? I just needed a nice hot shower to get cleaned up and made a bit more presentable. I didn't want to go back home to Wolfie smelling like the French Prime Minister's wife. Wandering through Bob's house naked, I finally found a beautifully tiled walk-in shower. It had a huge picture window on one side, with a view of the valley below. I found some fragrant soaps, and taking my time, cleaned everything inside and out, using the removable shower head to douche myself. When I was done, I dried off and then found a thick, luxurious robe in Bob's closet to wear until I found my clothes. His master suite was huge, even the closet was bigger than my entire bedroom. Hmmm, might be worth staying friendly with this guy, I thought. I wandered back out to the sun room, and found the boys fully clothed, sitting up in chairs, involved in a deep discussion. "Miss Wolff, so glad you could join us again. My god woman, that was the best display of entry level massage therapy I've ever seen! You've got a full-time position if you want it. My wife will be thrilled to have you on board. I was just telling Bob we have a medical convention here in town every year, hundreds of attendees. Think of the client base you could develop for yourself! I've already got plans to make a few strategic phone calls in the morning, let the right people know about our business arrangement. You can pick and choose your own clients, work as much or as little as you want. What say ye woman?" "Well I don't know Doctor DeShade, this is all so overwhelming. I'm not sure I could do this for a living. I didn't even know I could do it one time! And what would my husband say?" "I agree with Mark, you're a natural Cat. I have some very close friends in California, also plastic surgeons, who would pay handsomely for one of your sessions. I'd bet they'd even pay to fly you out there for a weekend, put you up in a luxury hotel or even their own homes; maybe you could treat several clients at once. Your husband could probably quit work altogether, go fishing every day. Come on Miss Cat, think about it. If nothing else, I want you as my own personal masseuse. No one else will do. By the way, here's your fee, $1000 plus $400 for the bathing suit." Taking the money I said, "Well I'll think about it. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get dressed and go home and rest." I found my clothes laid out neatly on the table, minus the bathing suit. I removed the robe, momentarily allowing the boys another look at my naked body. Doctor DeShade said, "Miss Wolff, you have the most impressive breasts I've ever seen on a woman your age." "And the most lovely pussy," added Bob. Thanking them, I quickly slipped on the warm-up suit, not bothering with the shorts. I attempted to shake Bob's hand before leaving, but instead he pulled me close and kissed me passionately on the lips. I responded warmly, kissing him back, although it didn't seem the professional thing to do. At least there was no tongue! Just as Dr DeShade and I were about to walk out the front door, Bob said, "Oh, by the way, both my younger brothers will be visiting in a couple of weeks, they'll be staying the entire weekend. I think they're bringing some college buddies along too. Sort of a reunion thing. Shall I book you now? I'd like you to block out the entire weekend for me. And it might be more convenient for you to stay here, I'll have the small guest house all fixed up for you. You're a doll, thanks a bunch. Love ya!" To Be Continued . . . Helping Hands Next month I shall be sixty-seven years old. Before then there will be the fifth anniversary of the day my darling Dorothy was taken from me. A merciful release, said people who had known of her illness; and so it was. I still think of her, of course, and that is why I cannot help feeling just a little guilty about the turn my life has taken in the intervening years. Sex was never that important to Dorothy. At any rate, not once our early ardour had dwindled. And somehow I suppose I just adopted her way of thinking. There were stories in the papers about something they called 'the sexual revolution' but I never felt it applied to us. Certainly not as we grew older. Darby and Joan who used to be Jack and Jill, as the song puts it. So how would Dorothy feel if she knew the things I get up to nowadays? If she can look down and see me ... in action, as it were, she would surely be scandalised at first; I hope she would come to realise that I have found a new way of life that is very good for me. Dorothy's memory is on my conscience, I have to admit, but I have to balance that against the excitement, the fulfilment that each new day promises. Thrills quite unlike any she ever experienced. It all began quite quickly. Only a few weeks after the funeral I was in the garden at the front of my cottage tending my roses: there's a pale mauve variety, called Compassion, I'm fond of, and a yellow one called Apricot - that's a favourite, too. But it had been a terrible summer for greenfly. Sad, really, after all my hopes. I was contemplating the possibility of salvaging a few blooms for the village show when a car drew up with a sharp toot on the horn. I looked up to see The Major and his wife climbing out. Unwelcome visitors, I'm afraid, but in a small village one has to try to be polite. His name is Frank Johnson but everyone calls him The Major. Sometimes, behind his back, The Mad Major. Quite short, sandy hair, straight back, barks a bit when he talks. I'd always thought him a bit of a bore with a tame wife but people say he means well. No one seems to know how long it is since he left the Army, or whether he saw active service. Doubtful, in my view. But he still plays the part. Gave me a little salute when I reluctantly invited them both indoors. No real option after he'd said there was something he wanted to talk about. I offered tea or coffee. The Major said Brenda would like tea - she just nodded agreement - but he wouldn't mind a drop of scotch if that was possible. Neat would be fine, he said, when I offered water with it. By the time I returned from the kitchen with tea for his wife and me, his glass was empty. I didn't suggest a refill. "So how are things?" he asked as I sat down. "Oh, so-so. You know how it is." "Yes," he said. "We do know how it is. That's why we called round." Not knowing where this was leading, I said nothing. "You're not the first, and you won't be the last. Village this size, lot of elderly folk. Not surprising, really." "No," I said, bewildered about what was supposed not to be surprising. "Bereavement. The dear departed. All that. You're by no means the only one." That, at least, I could understand. Funerals hereabouts, I knew, were much more common than marriages or christenings. When Dorothy and I moved here in preparation for my retirement, the village had a population of under two thousand, and the figure has declined steadily. There used to be three public houses but now there are only two. There's a small general shop and a newsagent that also serves as a post office. The Church is served by a vicar who looks after four parishes and visits ours on alternate Sundays. Three times a week there's a bus service into the nearest town, twenty miles away. Barely enough even though we are an elderly, dwindling population. "Yes," I said, remembering a number of solitary souls I sometimes encountered in the bar of my local. "The important thing," the Major continued, "is not to mope. Get on with life. There's plenty of it out there. Do your own housekeeping, do you?" "There's not a lot to do. I manage.: "Do you cook?" "Well, I'm no chef but I don't starve." "Varied diet?" "Oh yes," wondering where the inquisition was leading. "Laundry?" "I know how the washing machine works," I replied, smiling, fearing he might want to schedule a kit inspection. "Ironing, though. Not many men your age are good at that." When I conceded as much, he went on, "Guessed as much. And that's where we come in. We've a good idea, Brenda and I, where the problems are and what the answers are. Sharing, for instance." "Sharing?" "Well, it's obvious, isn't it? There's more than one widow who'd be glad to do some ironing for someone who could tidy her garden." "I suppose so." "That's just one example. And there are plenty more. Brenda and I do a bit for Helping Hands - it's all voluntary. Our contribution, you could say. Think about it. You'll come up with lots of little ways we can help. And one big way." He paused and looked at his wife. "Do you want to take over, Brenda?" To this point Mrs Johnson had participated only with the occasional nod. Now she said, "Well, no need to be shy, Mr Roberts." She leaned forward and put a hand on my arm. "May I call you John?" "If you wish." "The thing is, John, we know that a bereaved person who has had a happy married life misses one thing above all." She sat back and smiled. "It's sex, isn't it?" Was it? I'd gone without for so long while Dorothy was ill I hardly gave it a serious thought. It hadn't been a priority when she was well. I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. "No need to be embarrassed. You're not the only one in this predicament but - like all the little things - we can help you." She looked to her husband. The Major said, "Show him, then, Brenda." "If I may, I'll just close the curtains first,"she said. "Never know who may be passing,do we?" Satisfied that we had the necessary privacy, she turned back towards me, unbuttoning the full length of the front of her dress as she approached. At that time she would have been in her late forties, a petite woman with greying hair arranged as an oval frame to a friendly face with wide, amber eyes. When she allowed her dress to fall open I could see she wore matching pink bra and knickers in a flimsy, lacy material. Her breasts were small and high, apparently needing little support. Her hips narrow, the legs slim. Undressed, she was transformed, no longer the anonymous partner without a personality of her own. "Now," said the Major, "isn't that a bit tasty? If you just relax, she'll look after you. It's what she's good at." To say I was thunderstruck is an understatement; it probably makes me sound very unworldly if I say I had never had an experience like it, but that is the simple truth. I simply wasn't prepared for a woman I scarcely knew stripping to her underwear in my own front room. While her husband looked on with obvious approval. But if my conscious mind struggled to come to terms with what was happening, my physical reaction was swift and inescapable: an erection of greater intensity than anything I had known for literally years. Seeing the bulge, she stooped and let her hand rest in my crotch. "Oh my," she said, "we are in a bad way, aren't we? But that's nothing to be ashamed of. It's natural. And we can take care of it." With that she gently parted my legs, knelt between them and opened my zip. Whether or not I wanted to resist - and by then I'm not sure I did - was irrelevant. Within seconds my cock was in her hand and she was caressing it with cool, sensuous fingers. "Excellent - little man at attention. Brenda knows how to get him to stand at ease. Won't mind if I do a little sentry duty, will you?" I looked to see that the Major, watching us with unblinking concentration, now had his exposed cock in his hand and was massaging it fiercely. Extraordinarily, I can recall being absurdly pleased to see that his member was in proportion to his short stature. I wasn't allowed to dwell on the thought. The Major was issuing another order. "Go on, Brenda. You don't always get one as big as that. But be careful - you know what it's like when they've been without for a while." Oh, Brenda knew. There's no doubt about that. Looking back, and knowing a lot more now than I did then, I can appreciate the skill she deployed so sympathetically for the next few minutes. Her head descended, her mouth opened and warm, voluptuous lips enfolded the knob of my cock. She steadied herself, waited while I tried to control the demands of my testicles. Her tongue lapped the underside of my knob, just where the circumcision has left me so deliciously sensitive. Her head moved down again and suddenly most of my shaft - as much as she could accommodate - was wrapped around by the most subtle suction. My eyes met The Major's. The rhythm of his self-stimulation had not abated. "Try and hold on," he said. "I know it's not easy." In fact, it was impossible. As Brenda drew her pursed lips up towards the head again, her hand was cupping my balls. I heard myself gasp, felt my groin push involuntarily upwards, and a surge of spunk erupted into Brenda's throat. Far from being repulsed, she tightened her lips around my detumescence. I felt her tongue lapping against me. Only when the last dropped had been squeezed out did she release me. "There," she said, dabbing at her mouth with a tissue, "Doesn't that feel better?" "No need to ask," The Major chimed in. "It was what he needed and you did him proud. Didn't she?" turning to me. Although I sensed it would be some time before I would really come to terms with what she had done, I had to concede it had been a virtuoso performance. "Well," he smirked, deftly stowing away his own still erect member, "that's Brenda Johnson for you. That's why in Aldershot they called her the best BJ in the garrison. But it's time we were running along. What you need to do now is come along to the next Helping Hands meeting. Elevenish, Tuesday morning. Village Hall. You probably won't get Brenda again - this was just a welcome to Helping Hands - but you won't go short. Believe me." As they left, Brenda gave me a demure peck on the cheek but, unseen by her husband, her left hand ran across my crotch. I watched them get in their car and drive away. *************************** There were eleven of us, seven women and four men, having coffee and biscuits in the Village Hall the following Tuesday morning. Some of the faces, having been seen around the village, were vaguely familiar but there was no one I knew. I guess the youngest - one of the women - would have been in her mid fifties. Twin sets and pearls weren't in evidence but they wouldn't have been out of place. There was a certain amount of grey hair, male as well as female. Conversation was spasmodic and superficial, spiced with a little gossip - could it be true that the new lady at the general shop was having an affair with the newsagent? No one knew. It was puzzling. Was this really what the Mad Major and his sexy wife had in mind for me? I had hardly expected an orgy at eleven on a Tuesday morning, but this couldn't have been more decorous. Or, as far as I was concerned, more boring. For politeness, I stuck it out to the end. Then, as the ladies were clearing up, a tall, well-built woman whom I had recognised as the church organist, Marjorie Wall, came over to enquire, "Is there anything you would like to take with you, Mr Roberts? There's always something left and we don't like to waste it." "Well -" "I can recommend the cream sponge - " she smiled - " because I made it myself." Impossible, then, to refuse. And anyway I do have a sweet tooth. "Thank you," I said, "that's very kind." "Not at all. I'll just pop it in a tin for you. I'm sure you'll enjoy it." "Yes, of course." "But do let me have the tin back, if you will. There's a label taped inside the lid with my address." "Yes. I can bring it back this afternoon." I didn't want her to think me unappreciative. "No, sorry, I'm at my yoga class this afternoon. This evening, perhaps. If that's all right with you." So, shortly before seven I put the tin, now empty, in my saddlebag, and cycled round to Marjorie Wall's home. She lives in a large, rambling house that used to be the manse in the days when we had our own vicar. Her response when I rang the bell took so long that I was beginning to fear she was not at home, but no sooner had she opened the door than she was ushering me inside. My protestations that I had only come to return the tin, were brushed aside. "Nonsense," she said, "come and have a drink. We should get to know each other better - I want to tell you how sorry I was to hear about your poor wife. I can sympathise - I lost my Cecil in similar circumstances. Nearly ten years ago but it only seems like yesterday." She led the way into a large drawing room - chintz-covered furniture, a piano, some nondescript water-colours on the walls. She settled herself on a sofa and indicated that I should take the armchair facing her. "I would like to call you John," she said, 'and you must call me Marjorie. Informal, the way friends should be." She was, I suppose, trying to put me at ease, but it wasn't easy and it was about to get more difficult. I had been surprised that she was wearing a floral housecoat when she welcomed me in, and the visit from the Johnsons lingered at the back of my mind, but it still left me unprepared for what happened next: she let the housecoat fall open to reveal navy blue bra and knickers; a matching suspender belt supported patterned stockings. My expression must have spoken for me because she said, "Please don't be embarrassed. I mean, you've had an introduction from Brenda and the Major, haven't you? So you know what this is about." How slow she must have thought me, how naive not to have read the signs and guessed why I had been invited to visit her at home. I was still struggling to adjust when she went on, "We can talk later, if you like. I expect you've got lots of questions. But let's enjoy ourselves first. Do you want me here - we can use the couch? Or upstairs?" Afraid of making a total fool of myself, I had to say something. The best I could offer was, "Why don't you choose?" She jumped to her feet. "Upstairs, then," she said with such enthusiasm I must have made the right decision. "There's nothing like a nice big bed, is there?" She took my hand and half led, half dragged me to a bedroom on the first floor. There covers had been turned back on a large double bed. "No mirrors on the ceiling, I'm afraid but It's ready for us," she announced. "So let's use it." She stepped out of the housecoat, threw her substantial frame down and beckoned me to join her. I stood at the side of the bed, still absurdly hesitant, by now wanting what was clearly on offer but unsure how to proceed. Fortunately, Marjorie continued to take charge. "Why don't you get undressed," she suggested, "while I get myself warmed up for you?" Her hand slipped inside the waistband of her knickers. The sigh that accompanied the subsequent movement of her fingers under the fabric finally broke my paralysis. Wrestling with stubborn buttons, I stripped completely, scattering clothes wherever they fell. Absurdly, instinct took over as I attempted to cover my burgeoning stalk with one hand only to find that I had taken it in my grasp; it was as though I was holding it out for her inspection. "Oh my!" she said. "You are going to be very popular around here. Let me feel." Taking a firm but careful grip, she encouraged me on to the bed at her side. All the while, her other hand moved inside her knickers. There was no point in pretending I wasn't aroused; for the first time in my life a voluptuous woman was offering herself to me in such blatant fashion that I was powerless to resist. However, when I rolled on to my side and reached for her, she held me at arm's length. "Slowly, John. Don't spoil things by rushing - we have plenty of time. Can you undo my bra?" Once the clasp was released, I could only admire the large round globes, the dark circles topped by broad, flat nipples. Since then I have come to realise that my ultimate preference is for smaller, more oval breasts and pointed nipples but at that time I was a novice, still unaware of the multifaceted world of sensuality to which Marjorie could lead me. What I recall of that moment is applying my mouth and tongue to each orb in turn, licking and sucking, sucking and licking for a long time until she lifted my head to look into my eyes. Then the woman I had only known previously as the church organist, murmured, "Now I know how clever you are with your tongue, I think you should try somewhere else. So, if you would just slip my knickers off... " She raised her hips to assist me. Her legs, freed from the garment, opened wide. In the same instant, her hand on the back of my head pressed my face into the warm darkness between. Fortunately, I was using my hands to steady myself; had I been holding my cock I think that would have put a swift end to the encounter. It's true that I had, many years before, gone down on Dorothy in this manner but she had never been comfortable with the idea of cunnilingus; although we never discussed it, I felt it tactful not to insist and after a while we fell back into less exciting endeavours. Marjorie rekindled the spark. The aroma was slightly musky, the taste just a little salty. I pushed my tongue between the lips and licked. The pressure of her hand on the back of my head intensified, then relaxed. I felt fingers slide between her mound and my forehead, then movement. While I licked, she began to work her clitoris. I became aware of small muscle tremors on the inside of her thighs. Her hips bucked, her legs locked behind my back, her bottom lifted and fell as she worked towards her orgasm. My tongue sought to match her need and, however inexpertly, somehow it succeeded. A final, gasping paroxysm carried her over the edge to fulfilment. For a while we lay in silence,my head resting on one of her ample thighs. At last she said, "John, you now know my secret: I love sex in all kinds of ways but nothing satisfies me more than a clever tongue." I protested that my contribution had been insignificant beside her uninhibited demonstration of desire. "No, John," she said, "don't be modest. You were good and I loved every second. But we haven't finished. It's your turn now. And anyway, I want to feel you inside me. Is it still ready?" Kneeling, I was able to show her that I was indeed still erect. A tiny tear of moisture was escaping from the tip. Marjorie licked it away before lying back, opening her legs and drawing up her knees. "Well, I'm sure I'm ready for you," she said. "But if you can, keep control. I want us both to enjoy it." The advice was sound. After I had knelt between her legs and she had taken me in hand to guide me into her, there was an instant temptation to let nature take its course by the fastest route. Taking a deep breath and forcing my mind to put the messages from my groin on temporary hold, I pressed forward and held still. I was aware of the silky warmth of her inner walls surrounding my knob. I felt the labia lips contract and tighten round the base of my cock, now buried to its full length. My balls were resting against her. Whatever instincts or wishes Marjorie may have had, she held back until she felt the danger of a premature conclusion was at least minimally under control. When she started to move beneath me, it was with no more than a gentle surge, a ripple followed by a relaxation. And she began to talk to me, to teach me how to read her responses, how to indicate when I needed to ease away from the cauldron that was inviting me to tumble into its inviting flames. Her movements were infinitely subtle and varied. I had to remind myself that this was an outwardly respectable middle-aged woman in a somnolent English village, yet she was displaying all the wiles of an oriental courtesan. Probably memory exaggerates but that was how it seemed to me as gradually she increased the tempo, encouraging me all the while with little murmurs of approval and incitement. Helping Hands The climax was all I could have desired. She let me know that all restraint should be abandoned. Her writhing against me grew fierce and demanding. Her mouth opened, sucking in deep breaths. Her hands clasped my buttocks, reinforcing the urgency of my driving penetration. And so the dam burst inside her. I felt the first gush, then the spasms as spurt after spurt emptied me. The relief was total and shattering. The feeling exquisite. **************** Half-an-hour later, showered and dressed I sat with Marjorie in a comfortable room downstairs. She again wore the housecoat but now decorously closed. I was nursing a large scotch and soda, Marjorie had a mug of coffee. "The thing you have to understand about Helping Hands," she said in reply to my question, "is that it doesn't really exist. There's no organised body, no constitution, no secretary, no membership. If Helping Hands is anything it's a kind of code word that identifies anyone in the village who is single - or becomes single - and is over a certain age." "Which is?" "Oh, there's nothing fixed. It fluctuates. But we're not talking young. Or even youngish. The majority are widows or widowers. Without being brutal about it, you can say that whenever there has been a funeral in the village, discreet enquiries will be made. After a while, of course." "And then?" "Well, that too can vary. The whole Helping Hands thing depends on who's involved at any time. We talk among ourselves, the women do, and we do what seems interesting and enjoyable. At present, I'm acting as a kind of meeter and greeter for anyone new. Like you." "Doesn't sound too hard." "You'd be surprised. You and I clicked and it was great. But that doesn't always happen. I've had disappointments. And one or two disasters." "So what about us? Another time, I mean." "Ah, that's important." She paused, considering. "Yes, I hope there will be more evenings like this one. But one thing that has always been part of Helping Hands philosophy is that no-one can monopolise anyone else. We've had a few cases of a man and a women hitting it off so well that they settle into being a couple. But then they disappear from Helping Hands because we are no longer what they need." "I can see that. So what should I do now?" "Nothing" "Nothing?" "Don't worry. The point I've been trying to get across is that in Helping Hands we circulate. Variety. Spice of life, eh? But experience has taught us that the initiative is best left in the women's hands. Men can get - well, pushy. We had one serious case and we had to tell him he wasn't welcome. He moved away." She offered me a refill but I declined. I still had to cycle home and the evening had left me intoxicated enough. Taking my glass, she leaned down and kissed me; full on the mouth but not in away that suggested a resumption of engagement. "Just go home, John, and be patient. We women talk, you know. My guess is you won't wait long before your phone rings. **************** I didn't hear from her again for several months, though we smiled when we passed each other in the street. But in the meantime I was drawn into a world I couldn't have dreamt existed; certainly not in a sedate village like ours. And Marjorie was right. The revelatory thrill, especially for someone whose previous decades had been sheltered and unadventurous, was the variety. Obvious really, I suppose, but no two of these women were the same, or wanted the same things. Audrey was unremarkable in appearance and quiet in manner. Sex was invariably missionary but unhurried and ultimately very satisfactory. When it was over, she always made me a cup of tea and sat and chatted for half an hour without ever referring to what had gone on in her bed. In contrast, Vera was extrovert and beyond embarrassment. She was the one who surfed the internet and went mail order shopping for sex toys on behalf of several of the other women as well as herself. Without Vera I would never have known what a clever substitute for a man the Rabbit could be. Vera, who claimed she masturbated every day she didn't have what she called 'an appointment,' gave me a noisy demonstration. And still had appetite for a vigourous workout afterwards. Masturbation was what Cynthia liked, that and nothing more. I found it strange the first time she suggested that we should sit in facing chairs and watch each other's handiwork. But there was a real erotic charge as she paced us, drawing out the pleasure until there could be no further delay. Simultaneous orgasm was always her objective and, with experience, we were able to achieve it more often than not. Trudy was a novice when she called me the first time. She was one of a few divorcees who came into the circle. A familiar story, ditched by her husband shortly before her fiftieth birthday in favour of someone younger. I was the first name she was given by Marjorie who apparently told her I was "very big." This wasn't anything I'd ever given much thought to but I discovered, not only from Trudy, that it was one reason why my phone rang so regularly. Big or not, she climbed on top and rode me with the relish of someone making up for lost time. Sessions with Trudy were almost always exhausting. Much the same was true of Edna. The difference,though, was twenty years: Edna was seventy, still going strong and proud of it. Her body was still in good shape and so was her vocabulary. "How are we going to fuck today?" was her customary greeting. Then she might suggest, "Why don't you have a look at my arse in my new knickers? Feel me up a bit and when your ready give me a bit of doggy." When I did, she would offer continuous encouragement. "Harder. Get it up me. That's good. Just the way I like it." I felt I had moved a long way from Dorothy. Edna passed away recently. Her funeral had a remarkable turnout of elderly men. If Edna was something of a one-off, so too, in an entirely different way, was Connie. Terrified of what her neighbours might think, she was only an occasional caller, always wanting to know if I could visit at short notice. The reason was that she had seen the occupants from either side of her little terraced house leave the street. "It's safe if you come now," she would say. "I've been without for too long so please come if you can." Even then we would have to couple in virtual silence. "I wouldn't like it if next door came back and heard us," she'd say. These couplings were somewhat surreal but I never demurred. Because of the long intervals between what she felt were safe opportunities, when we got down to it she was the most ravenous of partners, with a repertoire in which sixty-nine was a major feature. There were others, the circle waxing and waning (and wanking), as some departed with the years and others were enlisted. One never knows how many of us there were at any given time. We are a constantly rotating community of temporary mix-and-match pairs. Only once, after the original coffee morning, did a number of us get together in a group. Freda organised a theatre trip to our nearest town. I'm not much of a theatre-goer but the local repertory company were putting on something called 'Round and Round the Garden' by Alan Ayckbourn. I went along thinking it might appeal to my gardening interest. In the event, it turned out to be a comedy that had had very little to do with gardening but was mildly amusing. Much more interesting was the journey home. We were in a sixteen-seater mini-coach. It was dark and there was only dim lighting in the coach. I was sitting with Alice making noncommittal conversation about the play when she nudged me to draw my attention to the couple across the aisle. Despite the subdued illumination, I saw that Vera was leaning down into Arthur's lap. The rise and fall of her head left little to the imagination. Alice smiled approvingly. Then she carefully folded back her skirt, took my hand and placed it firmly between her open legs. Her theatre-going outfit hadn't included any knickers. In time, clenched lips and a short sharp drive with her hips signalled a carefully managed orgasm. She pressed my hand in place while she recovered. Unfortunately, just as she was preparing to reciprocate, the coach driver announced that we were nearly back at the village. Alice let her disappointment show. "Next time," she murmured. There never was another trip but Alice made up for that on several subsequent visits to her home, so I've no complaints. Indeed, these last five years have passed so swiftly I find it hard to recall the person I was before all this began. Without exception, all the women I have met in these circumstances have broadened my outlook in varying measure. I am grateful to them all. But none has excited me more than my recent experience with Teresa. And that demands recounting in some detail. **************** Teresa is - I guess - somewhere between fifty and fifty-five,slim and well-preserved. Where sex is concerned she undoubtedly ticks more of the boxes for me than anyone else. Black underwear, for a start. A taste for extended foreplay, too - there have been days when I have arrived in the early afternoon and left after dark, and we don't spend our time watching soaps. The television certainly gets switched on but Teresa subscribes to adult channels. One that features spanking movies is a favourite and never fails to provoke a session with Teresa across my lap. One day, displaying my blossoming knowledge of the new world I have entered, I enquired about bisexuality. Specifically, female bisexuality. She said there was a lot of it about,more than most men supposed, but she was unforthcoming about her own proclivities. Then,one evening, my phone rang. It was Teresa. "Can you speak?" she asked. With Helping Hands members one never knew so it was proper to be discreet. I assured her I was alone, hoping that she would offer to pop round. That wasn't what was on her mind. "You asked me once," she said, almost without preamble, "about bisexuality." "I remember." "You were fishing to find out if that was my line of country." "Oh well ..." "No need to be coy. It was understandable." There was a longish silence. I said nothing, though I was impatient to know where this was leading. Eventually, I heard her take in a deep breath. "This is confidential, isn't it?" "Isn't it always?" "Yes, of course it is. I'm sorry.: "Just tell me what's on your mind." "Well, I have a very good friend. Billy. Oh, a woman friend. Wilhelmina, really, but everyone calls her Billy. We met at University." Pause. "Where we were ... very close friends. Yes?" "Go on." "It was good, but it didn't last. We went our own ways, both got married,kept in touch with Christmas cards, that sort of thing." Again she stopped, still seemingly uncertain, needing reassurance. I said, "And now Billy is back in your life?" It was the only logical conclusion. "Yes, up to a point. She's taken to asking if she can visit. Just for a week-end. Every few months. No more." "But you are back where you were and it's still good?" "Yes." "So you feel perhaps the time has come to part company with - well, you know, a lot of your friends in the village." "Good heavens, no," she exclaimed. "Cut myself from all that - especially you. Of course not." "What then?" "The last time Billy was here we talked about a lot of things. The situation with her husband isn't good. Sex is virtually non-existent. But there are no real grounds for divorce. And anyway, when you pass fifty the lonely life of a divorcee can be frightening." "Not if you know about Helping Hands." "Exactly. So I told her ... more or less everything. I know I can trust her and, in any case, she doesn't know the village and the village doesn't know her." "But - if she divorces him and comes to live here -" "It's not what she wants, John." "So what is?" Another pause, this time longer than before. "Let me put it this way. What Billy and I do together is good. More than good. But what Billy needs is a man." "I see." "I'm not sure you do. What Billy has in mind is a threesome. Her, me and a man." My turn to pause for thought before I asked, "How do you feel about that?" "The more I've thought about it, the more it appeals." Not difficult then to see where the conversation was heading. "And you've rung me because - " "Yes, John." "Mr Big." For the first time she giggled. "Not just for that. But it helps. Will you?" My only question was, "When?" "This week-end. I know I should have called you before but - well, anyway, I've done it now. You know we'll try to make it good for you, too." They did. And, every few months, still do. Helping Hands this is a true story that just happened last night.comments are welcome. i was awoken last night out of a sound sleep by my wife moaning and shaking, deep in the midst of a violent orgasm. i reached over and felt her hand, still between her legs, covered with her juices and frantically rubbing her hard clit and shaved pussy. she told me how hard she had just come and demanded that i give her my cock as she needed my dick to fuck her hard..."please!" with that she reached over and started pulling on my quickly hardening cock; "give me this cock now, i need it sooooo bad! i just came sooooo fucking hard! fuck me!" i asked her what she was thinking about to get off like that. between her panting breaths she told me that she was imagining me fucking her, slamming my cock in her as she screamed and came...all while somebody was watching the whole thing! "i didnt care, you had me naked and spread out and were fucking me hard right in front of your friend! he was stroking his cock watching us and i was coming all over your dick! god that turned me on!" well it turned me on too! my cock was rock hard as she guided it into her open and drenched pussy. i fucked her mercilessly as she begged me to "fuck my pussy...ohhhh fuck my fucking pussy...i need your cock!" i told her how much it would turn me on to get her naked and spread her open and fuck her in front of someone. i had the perfect person in mind; my friend joel has a perfect cock, i havent seen it for ages but i still have a picture of his hard, smooth cock embedded in my mind. joel likes guys and i know he loves my cock and i know he would get off on seeing my penis pound away at my squirming wife while he stroked his beautiful dick. i have been wishing my wife could see it as i know she would appreciate such a wonderful sight. i could hear her gasp as she watched him take it out while i spread her lips open and slid into her. i could picture her going for her clit as i hammer away while her eyes are glued on joel's big, hard dick! the thought of watching him shoot a fountain of cum into the air while my wife watches and orgasms on my cock was the perfect visual for my own ball breaking orgasm as i contracted and spit load after load deep into my wifes pussy! i am still thinking about it right now and my cock is wanting to burst again! i just had to get this out before i relive it again and come all over myself! Helping Hands Something wasn't right. My body was sore, my head was pounding. I slowly cracked open my dry eyes. I looked around. I was strapped to a gynecologist table by my wrists and ankles. There was a man in his early 20s standing there in jeans. He was ripped. He grinned at me. I just started. I didn't ask where I was. I didn't ask to go. I didn't ask what was going to happen. It didn't matter where I was, he wouldn't let me go. And I would find out what is going to happen soon enough. "Are you thirsty?" He asked. I nodded yes. He walked over to me with a glass of water. I sipped out of a straw. He grinned and walked over to a tray. "Are you hungry?" I nodded yes. If there was poison in the food or water, well at least I wouldn't live for long through whatever this nightmare was. "Hmm. You're vegetarian. So. Would you prefer 4 cheese ravioli, a bean and cheese burrito or lentil soup?" I stared, shocked. He looked at my face and laughed. Again, I didn't ask. It didn't matter how he knew what he knew, it wasn't like he'd tell me anything I asked anyway. "Burrito." I said quietly. He nodded. He brought over a plate and started feeding me. "God you are so cute, I wish you mine." He sighed sadly. "I really like you too. You are so unlike anyone else who's been here. You don't ask questions, or beg, or cry, or plead, or bargain. You just accept. Plus the dimples in your ass are adorable." I blushed from head to toe. I had never had another guy look at me that way, let alone talk about me like that. He laughed. "Maybe I'll call you Bashful." He mused. He set the plate down and looked at me with meaning and said firmly, "Behave." I nodded. He started slowly kissing my neck, moving up to my chin, my lips. His hot breath against my cold skin made me shiver. He pressed his tongue into my mouth, and slowly, hesitantly I did the same. He chuckled as he kissed me, slowly rubbing my scared dick. But slowly, as he kissed me and rubbed me, to my disdain my cock grew warm and hard. He started planting his kisses on my chin, my neck, my chest, my stomach, my hips, and finally right above my red, angry cock. He slipped his lips over it, massaging the tip with his hot, wet tongue. I moaned and thrust my hips up, begging for his whole mouth. I didn't care if it was a guy, I didn't care if I was strapped down, and I wanted to go deeper. He chuckled and to my disappointment lifted his face off of my rod. I sighed sadly and stared up at the cement ceiling. Suddenly, I felt something cold on my ass. A finger, slowly rubbing circles around my hole. Then the finger stopped and was replaced my something else, that was much more uncomfortable. Slowly, the tip of some sort of tube was pushed inside me. I tried to wiggle away from it, but it did no use. Something was swelling inside of me. It grew more and more uncomfortable until suddenly it stopped. Warm water started seeping through my insides. It felt so warm and pleasant, I felt full and relaxed. The nice, warm full feeling started growing less and less pleasant. I started feeling too full, like my insides were about to burst. "PLEASE, STOP!" I moaned, as spasms rolled throughout my insides. I heard the man laugh, his voice sweet as if a little kid was asking for a cookie before dinner. "Not yet, gorgeous. You still have another 2 liters." I moaned as the spasms and cramps were all I could think about, I felt like my insides were going to rip open. The water flow stopped and he deflated the ball inside of my just enough to slip it out. Immediately he plopped a well lubed plug snugly in my ass. It hurt so bad, being stretched out by the plug. I had never had anything in my ass before other than the tube, and it burned. My cramps were getting worse and worse. He walked back over to where my head was and wiped a damp washcloth across my sweating face. "Don't pretend you don't like this just a LITTLE bit. You're dick is semi-hard." I glanced down and sure enough, my dick was wavering, trying to decide if the pain was pleasurable. "I don't usually do this, but I just thought I'd let you know, my name is Avery." He smiled before his mashed his lips onto mine, kissing me desperately. He climbed up on top of my and shoved his long, slender cock in my face, pressing it against my lips. I opened my mouth hesitantly and he slid into my mouth slowly, gently fucking my face. "Oh god your tummy swells so cute, you look like you're pregnant. God I wish you were. I wish you were my little boy wife, would you like that? Hmmm? You want to be my little boy wife?" He moaned as he pressed his cock deep in my throat. I almost gagged, but he pulled out just then. He got off of me and inspected my stomach. I was rock hard despite that fact that I was crying from the pain of my stomach and the humiliation of having a plug in my ass, keeping me looking like I was pregnant, and having just been fucking in the face. "Awww, baby, don't cry, here, I'll let it out, okay?" He gushed. He slowly pulled the plug out of my ass, and had a bucket waiting for the water to gush out. It wasn't the only that gushed out, as pieces of my meal shot out with the fire hose of water gushing from my ass. Avery patted me dry with a towel, started licking my abused hole. I squirmed in delight, his warm wet tongue gently soothing me. I could feel myself growing with pleasure, I wanted to cum so bad. He lifted his head from my ass and noticed my swollen dick. He smiled with triumph. He lubed up my raging hard on and sat on it, moaning as he plunged himself on my rod over and over again. I started thrusting upwards, eager to get deeper into him. I had never fucked an ass before. It was so much hotter and tighter than any pussy I'd ever had. I moaned, pushing myself further into him. "OHHH GOD YES! THAT'S IT! FUCK ME HARDER OLLIE!" Avery screamed as he impaled himself on my dick. I couldn't stand it anymore, as his hot ass contracted around my thick meat, I shot loads of skeet into his small, hot ass. He released his hot sticky cum all over my face and chest, crying out in pleasure. I collapsed back onto the table, tired and sore, my body aching, inside and out. I just wanted sleep. Avery kissed me on the cheek and whisper in my ear, "Do you want to sleep in a nice warm bed?" I nodded sleepily. "Do you want to be loved?" I nodded again. Who didn't want to be loved? "Do you want to be taken care of?" I nodded again. "Did you like what just happened?" He whispered seductively, nibbling my ear. I moaned and whispered, "I have no idea." "I'll make you a deal. Come live with me for a month, you can sleep in a nice warm bed, I'll pleasure you any time you desire, you'll never be chained or abused, and I will give you anything you desire. All you have to do is be my wife. Make me breakfast and dinner, wash laundry and pleasure me in bed. Also you must have two enemas weekly. Just try it out for a month. Please?" "Undo my wrists and ankles, and give me a minute to think about it," I mumbled lazily. He undid my straps, and leaned back over me. I threw my arms around his neck and moaned, "I want to be yours." He threw his head back and laughed as he picked me up and carried me out the door. At his car there was a man standing there, waiting. Avery walked up with me in his hands, naked and dripping cum, and the man helped Avery put my limp, sore body in the passenger's seat of his car. "I told you I would find the perfect boy for you." The man snickered to Avery. "I know, Preston, but I never thought you'd offer up your straight little brother." Avery responded. Helping Hands "It's no use," she thought. "I can't bend that far." Frustrated, she weighed her options. Leaving the sliver in was not a choice. It was right in the crease where her leg met her ass and it hurt like hell. That's what she got for wearing short shorts and sitting on that old, splintered bench. She silently cursed him for his choice of furniture. Living alone didn't mean he needed to take the bachelor pad stereotype so seriously, furnishing with anything he could find no matter the condition. There was no way around it, she had to ask for help. "How the hell do you get a sliver there?" he asked her, after she had mustered the courage to call him in and explain her predicament. "Well maybe if you got some decent furniture, I wouldn't have!" she replied. "I really don't want to sit and debate this, I want this thing out!" His patience was wearing thin. "Hey, you're the one who asked for help, excuse me if I have questions! Just turn around, put your hands on the counter and let me take a look." With a huff, she obliged. "Can you sort of lean forward, or tilt your hips up a bit?" She couldn't help but picture what this would look like if anyone else was there. Her against the counter in a tank top and panties, legs spread and hips tilted forward while he stared at her to get a better look. She could feel his warm breath on her thigh as he examined the sliver and she suddenly felt very exposed. "It's not bad at all, I just need to kind of- hold onto you with one hand to pull the skin tight, okay?" he said. "Okay, just do it!" she replied. He slid a hand onto her inner thigh, using his thumb to lift her cheek from her leg and she gasped. His touch had sent chills down her spine. She felt the heat rise in her face. "You okay?" he asked. "Yeah, fine. Your- your hands were cold, that's all." "Sorry your majesty, next time I shall warm them in anticipation of you needing help" he answered with a sarcastic laugh. The mixture of his breath on her thigh and the touch of his hand sent her head spinning. She struggled to maintain composure, but couldn't keep thoughts of what else she'd like those hands to do out of her head. "He is just a friend" she thought. "This isn't a good idea, you need to calm down." But her body was already reacting. She could feel the heat in her thighs and her panties getting moist. She hoped he didn't notice. "Okay, hold still" he said, giving the tweezers a swift pull. "Got it! See? not bad at all" He stood up and set the tweezers on the counter, but his other hand was still on her thigh. As he removed it, she felt his finger slide, softly and deliberately, over the wet fabric of her panties. An uncontrollable moan escaped her lips as she grabbed onto the counter to keep herself steady. "You sure you're okay?" he asked. She could feel his breath hot on her neck and the bulge in the front of his shorts that lightly pressed against her ass. She couldn't find any words to say, so she pressed back into him. "Maybe we should apply pressure to the wound" he mumbled, his face buried in her hair. Her hands gripped the counter tighter than ever as he began to grind against her. She could hardly breathe. "You have no idea how long I have wanted to do this" he said, sweeping her hair off of her neck and softly kissing it. She moaned softly. He pulled back and turned her around, lifting her onto the counter and kissing her deeply on the mouth. Her hands gripped his shoulders and her legs wrapped tightly around him. Not breaking the kiss, he reached into her tank top and unhooked her bra, carefully removing it and leaving her in her tank and panties. He kissed his way down her neck, burying his face between her breasts. "You smell amazing." He began to massage and kiss her breasts through the thin fabric of her top. "You are so sexy, I can't believe I am actually doing this. Are you okay with it?" "Yes!" she gasped, finding her voice again out of fear of him stopping. She pulled his face up to hers and passionately kissed him, her tongue gently tracing against his lips and exploring his mouth. He was an amazing kisser, it was as though no matter what either of them did, the other was a step ahead. She felt as though she was going to melt. Their hands slowly and carefully explored one another. She realized how little she knew his body. She'd always just looked past it, he was a friend. Now that she was seeing him in a new way, she noticed so much- how good he smelled, how firm and smooth his shoulders felt. He seemed so solid and strong. She couldn't believe it hadn't dawned on her before how sexy he was. He slid his hands around her ass, lifted her up and carried her toward the bedroom, sitting down on the bed as with her in his lap as he continued to focus his attention on her breasts, licking and sucking at her nipples. It gave her goosebumps. She slowly slid off his lap and knelt next to the bed, staring hungrily into his eyes as she loosened his belt, unzipped his shorts and slid her hand inside. He was rock hard. She purred as she freed his thick cock from his boxers. It was gorgeous. His skin was so smooth, it felt like velvet. She began to stroke him as she moved her mouth toward his cock. She teased him with her tongue, reveling in the power she felt as he moaned and ran his hands through her hair. Her thighs ached with the anticipation of feeling him inside of her. She ran her tongue over the faint trail of hair that led up to his navel, and softly kissed him all the way up to his neck, her breasts gently grazing his body on their way up. He put his arms around her and they leaned back onto the bed. She straddled him as he pulled her tank top over her head, revealing her hardened nipples. She removed his shirt as he let his shorts fall the rest of the way to the ground. She leaned in close, her breath hot on his ear, "I need to feel you inside of me." He turned her onto her stomach and she got onto all fours as he slid her panties down and removed them. His fingers traced her swollen pussy and she shuddered as she felt his cock press against her. His skin was so warm. She gasped and softly said his name. He used his hand to guide his cock, sliding it slowly against her wet slit, hitting her swollen clit with every pass. Then he began to press the tip into her, slowly. Just when she didn't think she could stand the teasing any longer, he plunged in, the sudden feeling of fullness making her cry out. She leaned into his thrusts, moving her hips as he massaged her clit. She could feel her orgasm building, and when it was almost there, he stopped and laid on the bed next to her. "I want you to ride me." he said. She climbed on top of him and lowered herself onto his throbbing cock. He was in so deep that her clit pressed against him as she moved back and forth. He licked his fingers and began to massage her nipples. She started grinding against him harder. She was so close, so was he. Harder and faster, barely breathing, she felt the pressure build until finally the orgasm overtook her. Feeling her pussy clamp around him sent him over the edge, filling her with his hot seed. She collapsed onto the bed next to him, both of them breathing heavily and hardly believing what had just happened. She wondered if she should say something. "Thanks for helping me with my sliver." she whispered. "Huh? Oh-no problem." he said, draping an arm over her. "You let me know next time you get one, I'll be right there." Helping Hands Liz sighed, watching an especially amorous young couple who had obviously forgotten they were on a public beach. He was gorgeous, and as much as Liz would have liked to live vicariously through the redhead he was pawing for a few minutes, she blew her whistle anyway. The pair looked more than a little embarrassed when they finally realized after the second tweet that the whistle was meant for them. Shaking her head to toss her tawny curls, a few of which were sticking to her lotion-covered shoulders, she chuckled and resumed her watch. It was always a mixed bag for Elizabeth whenever one of her lifeguards called in sick. There was a great deal of work not getting done while she sat atop the watch chair, but the scenery almost made it worthwhile. The beach was teeming with muscular, bare-chested young men, and every one was giving his all to attracting the eyes of girls in skimpy bikinis. With a birds-eye view and a perfectly respectable reason to be letting her eyes roam, Liz could drink it all in. "Damn, those two needed to get a room, huh?" Liz looked down at the two blond boys standing below her watch chair. They were doing a poor job — probably intentional — of hiding their lusty admiration of her body. Her bikini wasn't much more conservative than those of the daring girls frolicking in the sand or the lake. Though she was pushing forty, Liz had the benefit of good genes and regular exercise on her side. Her ample bosom and lush figure never failed to attract attention. It was finding time to pursue the possibilities that was the problem. Giving a nod and a grin, she answered, "Mmm hmm." The pair laughed and headed back toward the water. Liz just heard the word MILF drifting back to her from their hushed conversation. It wasn't entirely accurate, as she didn't have any children, but she appreciated the sentiment anyway. Fortunately, the final shift of lifeguards all showed up, freeing Liz to deal with a dozen things that needed her attention. She slipped a pair of shorts and a tank top over her bikini. Upon returning to the concession stand, which also housed her office, she got down to work. Elizabeth finished updating the accounts in her computer and smiled. Though putting in the golf course around the lake had been expensive, it was proving a godsend. Even in the sputtering economy, the variable challenge and inspired design of the course drew in enough golfers to keep the park profitable. Word of mouth was spreading fast, and tee times were filling up faster each year. Her father had even lived long enough to see his dream come true and play a few rounds before he slipped away. With a little luck, she would be able to pass a successful park to her nephew when he graduated college. She could then retire with a clear conscience that the park would remain in the family. The phone rang, reminding her that she still had another year of minding the park before that happy moment could happen. When she answered, the voice on the other end piqued her interest. Troy was the principal of the high school now, but back when they were students there, they had hooked up a few times. As she recalled, the sex had been rather fantastic. Putting a little flirty excitement in her voice, she said, "It's so good to hear from you, Troy. Where have you been keeping yourself?" "Work keeps me pretty busy, and it doesn't really stop when the school year ends. That's why I called you, actually." A little crestfallen that this wasn't a social call, as Troy was recently divorced, Liz asked, "What can I do for you?" "Well, I just found out that two boys from the senior class cheated on their community service requirement. They had someone sign for eight hours and then went fishing. They're not really bad kids, so I had a talk with them and convinced them to do those eight hours in exchange for me not telling their parents. "So, I was wondering if you might have something that needed done around there? I know you won't let them get away with cheating, and I thought that you might be willing to keep it a secret." "I'm sure I can find something suitably sweaty for them to do," Liz answered with a laugh. "I actually have quite a few things that need taken care of, and if I have some helping hands, I won't have to ask the lifeguards to do it for me." "When can you use them?" "Now would work." She laughed again. "Give me an hour and I'll send them along." "That'll be perfect. I'll leave word with the gate guards to let them in. Just send them to the beach and I'll put them to work." "I owe you one." "I'll hold you to that," Liz responded, able to think of several ways to collect that he would probably enjoy as much as she did. "Don't be such a stranger. Bye." Liz hung up the phone and started drawing up a list, knowing that her lifeguards would go home happy today when they didn't have to stay late after the beach closed at six. **** The last couple of people trudged up the beach at closing time, closely followed by the lifeguards. As soon as Liz latched the gate behind them, she hurried back to her watch post near the showers. She couldn't hold back the hungry growl that escaped her when she saw the two shirtless young men raking the sand out on the beach. Kyle had the lean musculature of a swimmer, his chest bare shaven and his blond hair cropped close. Steve was the complete opposite, hulking large next to his friend with the body of a linebacker and dark curls adorning his broad chest. They were both dripping with sweat in the almost-stifling humidity, and looked absolutely delicious to Liz. As much as she'd liked to have admired the fine examples of manliness, there was still work to be done. The admissions were already counted, but she'd sent home the cashier from the concession stand as soon as they turned the sign to closed. The only consolation was that the beach would take a long time to rake out, and she had them for another two hours today, with four more tomorrow. Liz made a mental note to grab an extra pack of double-A batteries for her vibrator before she headed home tonight. With all the money from the beach in the overnight deposit bag a while later; Liz went out to check on the progress of her strapping temporary help. Only about ten feet of the beach remained unraked, and the bucket of assorted debris looked suitably full. They may have shirked their responsibility before, but the two young men appeared to be making a genuine attempt to do the job right now. Liz remained hidden in the shadows watching the play of the young men's muscles as they raked. She could hear them talking, but couldn't make out any of the words. Slipping a hand between her legs, she caressed the building need there through the two layers of cloth. It wasn't nearly enough, but that would have to wait until she got home. Engrossed in watching them and touching herself, Liz barely had time to duck back from the archway between the shower entrances when Kyle bent down to pick up the bucket and the pair turned to walk her way. Taking a moment to tug her bikini bottom out of the cleft of her nether lips and pluck at the top clinging to her stiff nipples, Liz regained her composure. She walked back into the archway just as the two men approached. "Good job. Just dump the bucket into the trash can, and then you can take the trash out back to the dumpster." "Okay, Ms. Wallace," Steve answered, his deep voice sending chills up and down her spine. "Please — just Liz. Grab the bags from the cans out on the beach, this one here, and the two by the concession stand." "Got it," Kyle said as he popped the top off the can and upended the bucket into it. "I'll be in the concession stand seeing what I need brought down from upstairs. Come see me when you finish with that." Elizabeth turned and walked to the concession stand, letting her hips sway just a little on a whim. They've got me all hot and bothered, so they deserve a little tease to get even, she thought, wondering if they were watching. Feeling delightfully naughty after her strut, Liz grabbed a pen and paper to take stock of what she would need brought down from the freezers upstairs. It had been a brisk day of business, so quite a few things were running low. She was nearly done when she heard voices emerging from the vent hood over the grill. Liz had learned the hard way that, when turned off, the hood served as a perfect listening post to hear anyone on the other side of the thick block wall. Her father had overheard some things about her that he really didn't want to know one day when she was talking with a girlfriend outside. She had heard his gasp the same way he heard her, when she was right in the middle of telling her friend about the blowjob she'd given the night before. Mindful that they could hear her as well as she could hear them, Liz leaned under the vent hood. "Damn, those are some big tits," Steve said. "I'd like a mouthful of that." "Did you see that ass when she walked away? Fuck, man. Can't believe my brother got some of that." "I don't believe it either. That four-eyed geek brother Gary of yours never tapped that." "I believe it. Have you seen that hottie he's fucking now?" Elizabeth's cheeks reddened a bit and she had to purse her lips to keep from laughing. The name and description sparked a memory from a couple of years before. She had been working late in her office, more than a little tipsy on wine coolers, when flashes of light from somewhere outside had startled her. When she went out to investigate, she'd discovered a young man in glasses standing on the beach — stark naked — with a bunch of other men snapping pictures of him and laughing from the other side of the fence. As soon as she had flipped on the security light, the boys outside the fence had scattered. Gary, the unfortunate butt of the joke, had tried to cover himself, but not before Liz had a chance to see something very eye-catching between his legs. The other men had run off with his clothes, so Liz grabbed a towel for him to cover up with while she tried to figure out what to do. When that towel rose up in tent-like fashion a short while thereafter, she'd immediately come up with an idea. Gary hadn't been lying to his brother. Judging by the description of his current girlfriend, Liz hoped that maybe she had something to do with him overcoming his near terminal shyness. It would be a pity for such a nice cock to go to waste. I wonder if it runs in the family? She thought as Kyle mentioned that his brother had told him that she shaved her pussy. The two men outside were still talking about her when she stepped out from under the vent hood. Once again she caressed her sex through her clothing, thinking that there was an easy way to save the batteries in her vibrator, and they were just on the other side of the wall. She was lucky that Gary hadn't bragged too far and wide about her alcohol-fueled indiscretion though. No matter how appealing the idea was, she couldn't risk it to lure one of them into a tryst. Or both. That thought quite nearly made her gasp aloud. It was a fantasy of hers anyway, and the notion of having two such young, gorgeous men fulfill it was almost too much. This time, her fingers slipped beneath the waist of her shorts and the bikini bottom as well. Not surprisingly, she was soaking wet. Bringing her moist fingers to her lips, Liz sucked them clean and tried to get a grip on her arousal. She could hear the pair's voices moving away from the dumpster, and that meant that they would be back in just a few moments. A few steps brought her to the cabinet where she kept the trash bags, and she bent down to retrieve them. Standing up from reaching into the cabinet, she could feel their eyes on her. As she turned, she got a visual confirmation of that feeling when Kyle didn't quite tear his eyes away from her ass quickly enough. Holding out the roll of trash bags, Liz said, "Put these in the cans and you can both grab a coke and take a break." "Cool," Steve said as he grabbed the roll from her. A quiet, purring growl rumbled in Liz's throat from checking out their glutes as they walked out to the beach. When the pair returned, they both tapped drinks, and then Kyle asked, "Any chance we could jump in the lake and cool off for a couple of minutes? We're both kind of sweaty." "Not without any lifeguards out here. You can take a shower if you want, though." Steve shrugged. "Better'n nothing." I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be doing this, Liz thought, but her feet were already moving as soon as the pair turned into the men's shower enclosure. She flipped off the upstairs light and climbed, heading toward the window facing the beach. A couple of steps away from the window, she peeked through the glass from behind a stand-up freezer. After what felt like an eternity, she got her reward. It definitely runs in the family. Steve and Kyle both had impressive cocks, the long, thick organs swinging with their steps as they walked to the showers. Stepping away from the window a minute or so later took a supreme surge of willpower. The last thing she wanted to do was get caught ogling them like a horny schoolgirl. Of course, that was exactly how she felt. As she walked back down the stairs, Liz realized that she'd already gone too far and let her arousal build to a fever pitch. A glance at the clock revealed that there was only about forty minutes left until the pair had served their four hours for the day, but even that long was going to be pure torture. Elizabeth stayed inside acting as though she was still taking inventory while Steve and Kyle finished their break at the picnic tables. She didn't write a thing in her notepad, though. She was too busy daydreaming about two hard cocks and the studs attached to them. Kyle's voice startled her out of a vivid fantasy of tonguing his balls while Steve was fucking her hard and fast. "So what do you want us to do now?" "Oh — here." She handed over the notepad. "Just fetch this from upstairs. The ice cream goes in that freezer and the meat goes in this one." She knew exactly where she wanted both the meat and the cream, and it had nothing to do with freezers. The two young men tromped up the stairs, and Liz wrestled with her inner voice, which seemed to have developed multiple personality disorder. One moment, it was warning her to calm down, and the next it was screaming at her to tear off clothing. Somewhere in the background, her arousal was scheming, and it steadily drowned out the warning voice. Liz looked up as she stepped into the women's shower enclosure and could see movement beyond the window. There was no turning back if she went through with the plan her raging hormones had brewed. The sound of first one, then the other of the two men carrying supplies down the stairs reached her ears, and Liz surrendered to her need. Though she peeled off her clothing with almost desperate speed, she sauntered at a leisurely pace from her hidden spot just inside the enclosure to the shower in the far corner. Fighting the urge to look up, she turned on the water and stepped into the spray. A few seconds later, the chilly sensation of eyes watching her rippled through Liz's body. Leaning her head back, she let the water splash off her abundant breasts and reached up to run her fingers through her hair. A quick peek through those splayed fingers let her know that she wasn't imagining things. Steve and Kyle were both doing a poor job of trying to hide as they stared down into the enclosure. Now certain that she had an audience, Liz rubbed her breasts beneath the cascading water and slowly turned to give the two spies above a much better view. Her hands slid down her body in a sensual caress to her mound, and she cupped her sex in one hand. The show of wiggling her hand back and forth to wash was actually a means of taming the near painful ache there. Growing more excited by the moment, she continued the sensual tease, bending to run her hands over her legs, presenting her bare ass to the watchers above. Then, she stood and turned to face them again, this time squeezing her breasts and tweaking her nipples. For just a fraction of a second, her eyes locked with Kyle's, and she let a grin creep across her face as she pretended that she didn't see him. A quick twist of her wrist a moment later turned off the water, and she saw the two young men dart away from the window above in her peripheral vision. Not caring in the slightest that she was still dripping wet, Liz pulled on her shorts and top, leaving the bikini on the wooden bench where she'd discarded it. The material of her tank top wasn't especially thin, but the water beaded on her breasts and the hardness of her nipples still served to make the garment almost transparent. The wetness dampening her shorts had two sources, and one was getting wetter by the second. Caught fast in the grip of her desire, Liz sauntered back to the concession stand. Steve and Kyle were both obviously hard when they turned to face her, their shorts tented from the erections beneath. "All done?" Liz asked as four eyes homed in on her well-displayed breasts. She tilted her head to the side as if in confusion, making her tawny curls bounce, and then acted as if she'd only just noticed that she was on display for all the world. "Oh dear," Liz said as she tugged at her top, accomplishing nothing. "I guess I should have dried off before I put this back on, huh?" Steve obviously knew where she was leading, and he completely abandoned propriety. "I don't know. I kinda like it." "Flatterer," Liz declared with a dramatic roll of her eyes. Then she looked down at the bulges standing out from both men's loins. "Are you trying to smuggle out popsicles?" She asked with mock seriousness. "Nope," Kyle answered, giving his package a quick adjustment and grinning from ear to ear. Liz put her hands on her hips, cocking them to the side. "Well, what are you hiding in there then?" Kyle responded, "Why don't you come see?" "Maybe I'll do just that," Liz declared, and then closed the distance between her and the two smiling men. She grabbed the front of Kyle's shorts without preamble and jerked them down, letting out a gasp that was part theater and part arousal. "That's certainly not a popsicle." Another tug revealed Steve as well. "And neither is that." "You can lick it and suck it, though," Steve suggested. Curling her fingers around both throbbing organs, Liz moaned and stroked them. The girth of them in her grasp made the pulsing ache between her legs even stronger. "You're not all hard for me, are you?" "Hell yeah," Kyle answered. "You're fucking hot." "I'm not too old for you?" "No way," both men answered almost simultaneously. "Why don't you get them tits out?" Steve tugged on the tail of her tank top as further encouragement. Liz playfully slapped his hand away. "Not in here," she admonished. The last thing she wanted to do was spend time cleaning up afterwards, and she had high hopes that things were going to get delightfully messy very soon. She'd taken Kyle's brother into her office after finding him naked on the beach, but it would be a bit too crowded for three, and presented the same problems with cleaning up. The recently added fence around the tables outside provided the perfect solution. Though meant as a wind break, it would serve just as well to hide what was going on from prying eyes. Liz licked her lips and turned around, pulling her tank top over her head as she walked, Steve and Kyle hot on her heels. Letting the top tumble from her fingers to the ground, she looked over her shoulder to see them dropping their shorts as she finished her hip-swaying walk over to a picnic table to sit down. Helping Hands Steve hiked a thumb at his friend. "Did you really do his brother?" Sighing, Liz answered, "He had a rough night. I thought I'd cheer him up. He was nice and didn't go telling everyone he knew." Arching her eyebrows, she asked, "Are you two nice like he is?" Both men nodded and answered, "Yeah." She didn't know whether to believe them or not, but considering she was sitting bare-breasted in front of them and their naked erections were only a couple of feet away, it was a little too late to worry about it. She crooked her finger and beckoned them to her. As soon as they were within reach, Liz cupped their balls in her hands, stifling a chuckle at the slightly uncomfortable looks on their faces as they stepped apart. Just like their chests, Steve's orbs were covered in dark hair, while Kyle's were smooth shaven. Steve had a slight advantage in length and girth, but the head of Kyle's cock was bulbous, and she could almost feel it popping in and out of her aching pussy. Sliding her fingers upward, she curled them around the throbbing erections and gave them a few strokes. Overwhelmed by having two such gorgeous cocks at her beck and call, she leaned in and wrapped her lips around the head of Kyle's cock. "Holy shit," he groaned as she massaged him with her lips and swirled her tongue over him. Liz kept stroking Steve's cock while she sucked Kyle's deeper into her mouth. Kyle put his hand on the back of her head; while Steve reached down to squeeze her left breast. Moaning around Kyle's cock, she slid her lips over him a bit faster. "Let me have some of that," Steve said while tweaking her stiff nipple. Letting Kyle pop free of her mouth, she turned to engulf Steve's cock. Her tawny curls bounced as she sucked him, taking as much of his big cock as she could handle. After a few hungry sucks, she returned to Kyle's stiff member, giving it a few teasing licks before taking him in again. A drop of pre-cum welling up from Kyle's cock filled her mouth with flavor, prompting another moan. When she turned back to Steve a minute or two later, he rewarded her as well. Soon enough, she had to concentrate on one cock at a time, needing her hands to keep the eager young men from gagging her as their excitement built. Kyle and Steve were both grunting and groaning, obviously near to an explosion in her mouth. That wasn't where she wanted their cum, though. Sliding her lips back to the tip of Steve's cock, she let it pop from between her lips and looked up at the sweating faces above with a coquettish grin. She lifted her bottom enough to pull down her shorts, and then stood up so she could sit on top of the picnic table. Parting her legs as soon as she sat down, she gave them a good view of her baby-smooth sex and reclined back onto her hands. Expecting one of them to take the initiative and fill her full of cock, she was nonetheless quite happy when Kyle sat down on the bench instead and buried his face between her thighs. Liz leaned back and groaned, her toes curling to grip the edge of the table as Kyle's tongue danced over her. She opened her eyes when Steve's shadow blocked out the sun just in time to see him bend down and suck her right nipple. Twining her fingers into Steve's dark hair, she reveled in her fantasy coming to life. His brother had needed more than a little instruction when she guided his head between her legs, but Kyle had obviously done this before. She writhed on the table and lifted her hips toward his talented tongue as it danced over her folds. Steve sucked her nipple hard, actually pulling the areola into his lips along with the stiff bud. Her fingers tightened in his hair and she gasped when he let her nipple pop from his lips to take in its twin. A surprised yelp burst from Liz's lips when Kyle sucked her clit, wiggling his head back and forth at the same time. Steve let her nipple go and straddled the bench, lifting one knee onto it. His twitching manhood only inches from her lips presented an easily read sign of what he wanted. As soon as she opened her mouth, he fed her his cock. Liz fought against her gag reflex as Steve fucked her mouth and Kyle devoured her pussy. When she croaked a little, Steve pulled his cock out of her mouth, trailing thick strands of saliva, and tapped it against her cheek with a chuckle. "Damn, you know how to suck a dick," he remarked. After a quick swallow, Liz opened her mouth wide and wiggled her tongue. She had just enough time to gasp from a sharp jolt of pleasure shooting up from her pussy before Steve stretched her lips again. Moaning and whimpering around Steve's cock, Liz could feel the first tingles of an approaching orgasm dancing through her nether lips and behind her mound. Those tingles built rapidly into hot sparks, and her mouth opened even wider to let out a cry of bliss. Steve pulled back, dribbling more pre-cum and said, "Think you're about to make her pop." "Uh huh," Liz whimpered in confirmation. Kyle took that as a cue to center his attention squarely on her clit. As soon as his sucking lips pulled the bud in and he wiggled his tongue over it, Liz gave a warbling cry and exploded in orgasm. Her body lurching from the tidal wave of ecstasy crashing down on her, Liz grabbed the edge of the table in one hand, and pulled Kyle's face tight against her with the other, yelping and moaning as she came. He continued to fervently lap her pussy, and her thighs clamped down around his head. The orgasm went on and on, even after Kyle pulled her knees apart to escape the vice-like grip of her legs. When it at last let her go, she collapsed limp on the table, her legs dangling in Kyle's lap. She was panting for breath, dripping with perspiration, and twitching from the electric jolts still dancing through her from head to toe. "Holy shit," Kyle said with laughter in his voice as he wiped her juices off his face. "Oh yeah, that was sweet," Steve added. "Oh my god," Liz managed to whimper, and then sucked in a noisy breath. "You got me so good." Steve growled. "Man, I want up in that pussy." Liz laid a hand over her still heaving breasts. "Oh lord. Let me catch my breath." She glanced down at Steve's cock, still glistening with her saliva. "Ah — god — that's gorgeous." Steve stood up wiggling his erection suggestively, prompting Elizabeth to giggle. "Yours too. Such big, hard cocks." "So who gets sloppy seconds?" Kyle asked. An idea popped in Liz's head and she said, "Guess how old I am." Steve waved a hand in front of him. "No way. Ain't fallin' for that." "Whoever wins get to go first," Liz countered, sliding her hand down her body and parting her nether lips. The two men looked at each other, their expressions dubious. Then Kyle hesitantly said, "Thirty-two?" "Thirty?" Steve offered. Smiling, Liz pointed at Steve and said, "You win." "Oh well. I guess you were closer." Kyle shrugged and sighed. Liz shook her head. "I didn't say that. I said he won." Kyle reached down and gave her ass a squeeze. "Okay, it was your game, so how old are you?" "Thirty-nine." Both men's eyes widened. "No way," Steve argued. Liz sat up and spun around so she was facing Steve with her legs hanging off the edge of the table. "Afraid so. Still want to fuck an old lady like me?" "Why don't you let me show you?" After throwing her head back and moaning, Liz slid down off the table and turned to place her hands on it. She bent low, wiggling her ass, and Steve moved in behind her. He gave her butt a spank. "Damn, that ain't no thirty-nine year old ass." "Mmm — you're so sweet." Liz then looked at Kyle and patted the table in front of her. Kyle didn't waste any time in climbing up on the table, but Steve was well ahead of him. The big man grasped her hip with his right hand, guiding his cock with the other. Liz gasped as the tip slipped inside her, and then groaned as he pushed his hips forward. "Fuck, that's tight," Steve growled. "So big. I love it," Liz said in a breathless voice as Kyle lay down in front of her. "Take it slow. I want to feel that big cock." Steve chuckled and worked his hips in slow strokes. Moaning from the feeling of Steve stretching her, Liz looked up into Kyle's eyes and licked him from root to tip. His cock bobbed upward against her tongue and then tapped her in the chin after she traced the ridge below the large helmet. Steve was letting her feel every inch and throb of him as his cock stroked her. Kyle lying on the table in front of her provided the opportunity to fulfill her earlier daydream, so she pushed up on his knees and lapped his hairless orbs. Having never been with a man who shaved his nether regions, she found the feeling exciting, and set to tonguing his balls with curious delight. A yelp burst from Elizabeth's lips when Steve slammed his cock home hard and fast after one methodical stroke. His cock retreated just as slowly as it had since he'd first filled her, but then dove back in again with a powerful thrust. His loins collided with hers in an audible slap, quickly followed by an even louder one as he spanked her ass. Kyle was obviously ready for more than a tongue washing over his balls, and pushed his erection straight up in the air with a thumb as an indication of that. When Steve's cock again rushed into her depths, knocking at the entrance of her womb, she opened wide and filled her mouth with hard young cock. "Fuck yeah. Suck it," Kyle muttered as she bobbed her head over his lap, her curls bouncing and her breasts swinging. He slipped free of her lips once when Steve pounded his cock into with even more force and caused her to cry out. Kyle's slick member barely had time to slap against his hard lower abs before she scooped it up and brought it back to her eager mouth, though. Filled from both ends, Liz was in heaven. Her fantasy, as good as it was, couldn't even begin to compare to the reality of two young studs fucking her. The pace of Steve's thrusts steadily increased, and Kyle started tugging down on her head, forcing her to take him deeper. Much to her surprise and delight, Steve slid a hand between her legs to rub her clit in a fast back and forth motion. The additional stimulation soon had her gasping around Kyle's thick organ. She could feel another, even stronger orgasm swelling deep inside her. The first tickle heralded a rapid rise, and the building ecstasy stole her ability to concentrate on Kyle in front of her. She let him slip from her lips, loosing out a loud wail. Steve's cock pounded into her — fast and relentless. His fingers on her swollen bud sent her soaring toward a peak. The jolts of his body colliding with hers forced Liz to brace the heels of her hands on the edge of the table and lock her elbows. "Want me to come all over that ass?" Steve grunted, his voice tight. "Inside me," Liz instructed in a rush as the storm of orgasmic energy within her reached critical mass. "Ah, fuck yeah," Steve growled, and dug his fingers into her hips. Liz felt as if she was about to fly apart from her pent up orgasm, and then she felt the hot, roiling energy surge a final time. "Yes! Yes! Yes! I'm..." The remainder of the words never emerged, drowned out in a tight-throated squeal as ecstasy exploded within her. Steve grunted with every thrust, growing louder as she yelped in the throes of orgasm. Then he slammed his cock into her and roared, "Yeah!" Liz could feel him throbbing and pulsing deep inside her tightly clenched canal. Her womb fluttered again, and she screamed as another wave of release ripped through her. "Holy fuck. Yeah. Goddamn," Steve grunted as his big cock pumped her full of cream. His hips twitched involuntarily, every tiny movement sending Liz to another plateau of bliss. A choked yelp escaped her when Steve jerked his sensitive cock free. Yet another aftershock of the most incredible orgasm she'd ever experienced rocked her. Steve's cum dribbled from her gaped canal, dripping down her legs and spattering on the concrete below. She didn't even have the presence of mind to realize that Kyle had moved until his fingers dug into her hips. Liz's hair whipped as she looked back to see the final instants before Kyle's cock penetrated her. "Oh my god," she whimpered as then the big head slipped into her, a flatulent sound emerging as he buried his cock in her cum-filled pussy. The sound of the deep growls and moans emerging from Liz's throat shocked her a little. She hadn't even fully recovered from coming on Steve's cock before Kyle had filled her again, and her senses reeled. Kyle wasn't playing around. He pulled back on her hips every time he thrust his forward, fucking her hard and fast. Steve's cum and her juices squirted out around his shaft every time he drove his cock home. Yelps and whimpers replaced her moans, summoned up by the shock of him taking her with all of his pent up need. Spots dancing before her eyes from crying out with little breath to do so, Liz had only a scant second to realize that she was on the cusp of sweet oblivion once more. "God! Gonna come again!" She screamed, and then stiffened as she felt chilly pinpricks awaken on every inch of her skin. Kyle's next thrust pushed her over the edge. Liz knew she was screaming from the hoarseness of her throat, but she couldn't hear it over the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Kyle didn't abate his pace in the slightest, ravaging her climaxing body without respite. Only the tiniest bit of her awareness not caught up in the beautiful agony realized that he'd buried his cock inside her with a roar, flooding her depths with cum. By the time Elizabeth caught her breath and her senses would obey her again, Kyle had sat down on the bench with his head resting on the table. Liz folded her trembling arms and rested her head on them with a weary moan. Cum dripped from her still quivering pussy, pattering on the ground below. Steve's muscular arms wrapped around her, helping her first to stand, and then to sit. She slipped a hand between her legs, shuddering from the touch, and her eyes popped wide open when she felt how much cum was coating her fingers. She lifted the digits to her lips, licking them clean, which caused both men to groan and shiver. Elizabeth's weariness dissolved with surprising speed, replaced by a burst of energy. She stood up and suggested, "Why don't the two of you go get in the shower while I get out the hose and clean up?" Liz went to tinkle while the pair showered, in near disbelief at the amount of cum still flowing from her. They were still in the shower when she returned, so she skipped hosing down the table for the moment to join them, much to their delight. A little twinge from her overworked pussy tried to discourage her when Kyle wrapped his arms around her from behind, his cock stiffening against her buttocks. The sight of Steve's gorgeous cock also rising sealed her fate, though. Bending over in the spray of the showers, she gave herself over to the fantasy again. **** Liz leaned back in the chair, fighting against the urge to moan as Troy answered her call. "Hey, Troy. Just wanted to let you know that your two boys finished their eight hours." "Good. You didn't have any trouble with them?" Liz chuckled. "Oh no. No trouble at all." "Did you make sure that they broke a sweat?" "Absolutely. I worked them hard." "I appreciate it. Like I said, I owe you one." "And like I said, I'm holding you to it." A quiver of anticipatory pleasure rippled through her, and she said, "Well, something's come up and I've got to run." "Okay. Good to talk to you, and thanks again. Bye." "Bye," Liz said, and then pushed the end button. What had come up was Kyle's cock, which she'd already wrapped her fingers around. His hand was down her top, fondling her breasts, while Steve had his hand down her shorts and two fingers buried inside her. Though they'd finished their community service, it seemed that they were still ready to lend a helping hand. **** Hope this got a few people hot and bothered. That's what I'm aiming for, and one reality I don't reject. Give me a vote, and maybe leave a comment. That's the fuel that feeds free authors. Helping Hands Another letter from Catherine. She is a wife who writes to her husband recounting sensuous and exciting incidents as she recalls them. He loves to read them as much as to hear them. She is a beautiful 5'4" woman in her mid forties. She purposely uses terms he likes to hear to describe herself. Later they read these stories to each other when they are alone together. * Hi Honey, I have something to tell you about. This happened after we were married. You already know about most of this, but here are all the details as I know you love me to tell you about these things when they happen to me so you can read them. This, you will remember, happened when I was about thirty-nine years old and it really opened my eyes to some exciting feelings. I was still fairly young and frankly a hot looking young married mom. I had a killer body and I had just finished nursing our newest baby and my boobs remained huge D's as did my nipples remain huge. Nursing also keeps off body fat and my waist was back to a tiny 24 inches. Anyhow ...... my favorite nephew Brian had just graduated college out in Colorado and his Dad, my brother, could not get away to go get him so he asked me to go pick him up and drive him home. I loved the idea and looked forward to the road trip by myself. I had never done anything like that and I was so excited. You were fine with it too. You just asked me to be very careful. I got in my car and headed out on my trip. I was feeling so free as I got out on the freeway. The further from home I got the more I was enjoying the drive. It was a nice hot sunny day in June and there were a lot of trucks on the road. I noticed the drivers in cars and trucks looked at me much more openly when I am alone compared to when I ride with you or anyone else. I was feeling sort of flattered. My air conditioning was not working and I was getting hot. I was wearing a tee shirt and a skirt. I don't often wear skirts because you, my dear husband, gets so jazzed up and continually wants me to flash him or others. Since I was alone I could enjoy the skirt. I was feeling daring and so I slipped my panties off and the cool air rushing up under my skirt felt wonderful! I also pulled my bra off from under my shirt. It was hard to try to fish it out so I just took the tee shirt off and then I took off my bra. I wasn't paying very good attention because all of a sudden I was startled to see a huge truck right next to me. He blew his loud air horn and I saw a big, good looking guy giving me a thumbs up. I decided to just let him look for a minute since he'd seen me anyway. I drove alongside him for a few miles as nervous as I have ever been in my life and then I put my tee shirt back on. He was bummed out, so I raised my skirt and gave him a quick flash of my landing strip and tan lines. He waved me a huge thank-you smile as I slowed a bit so he would pull ahead of me. I was dealing with a lot of feelings. You always wanted me to let guys see me, but I never liked it because I felt you were using me for your own pleasure. But now that I was doing it on my own, it was for my own pleasure and theirs'. I actually did kind of like it just like you always said I would if I ever tried it on my own. That first day was a lot of driving. A let a few more truckers and other drivers see me topless. Every single guy just loved it. I felt like I was doing such a huge favor for them, but it really was nothing. Guys are so easy to please and so appreciative. Just like you always say too. Before I knew it, it was getting late so I pulled into a motel. A nice older man guy showed me to my room. He carried my bags for me. He stared at my nipples poking through my tee shirt thanks to the cold air conditioning. I got a room with a whirl pool tub. It looked fun. After the nice older gentleman left I got undressed and wanted to use the tub to relax. I got the water going but I could not find the switch for the whirlpool. Fortunately, I was able to reach the phone from the tub. I called the front desk and I just asked him how to turn it on. But before I knew what was happening , he said, "I'll be right there to show you.", and he hung up. I was thinking I'd see what it was like if I simply didn't bother to cover up so when he knocked I just said, "Come in." He used his master key and opened the door. I just sat there while he came over to show me where the button was. He was trying to avert his eyes. I said, "You can look, I don't mind. We don't know each other and we'll probably never see each other again and I can tell you love it and it's kind of exciting for me too just to show off a bit. I knew he could see my boobs and even my pussy cause the water was clear and I was sitting cross-legged. He got it going and then stood there looking for a minute. I said, "Oh I'm sorry, now the bubbles ruined your view." So I stood up and said, "Go ahead and have a look." I turned around for him and even put one foot up on the tub's edge to show off my pussy. I said, "Do you like?" He said, "Miss, you are magnificent and this is the nicest thing any woman has ever done for me. Thanks you." I said, "You are welcome and thanks for the compliment." He took a last look and left. I was so excited that I had done that. Well I slept great that night and when I got up to leave and pay my bill, it was already paid. I guess the guy arranged a free night for me for his little show. How nice!! When I got to Brian's place I met several of his college friends and we had so much fun. We had a bon fire that night and that is where I had a little accident. I was standing with my back to the fire and I stumbled backwards and fell down back towards the edge of the fire. I caught myself landing on my hands and butt. The guys nearby pulled me up right away. I was basically O.K., but my hands hurt bad from the burns and so did my bottom. Brian used my car and took me to the hospital. A doctor on duty bandaged my hands that were badly blistered and gave me pain killers and told me I could take off the bandages in about three days. He had to take my shorts and panties off for me and he got to see my bare bottom as I lay on my tummy. I know he saw my pussy too, but he was a perfect gentleman about it. The doctor gently rubbed salve on my bottom and gave me some to take with. He told me to put it on twice a day and gave me a week's supply of. He held first my panties and then my shorts for me as I stepped into them and he pulled them back up for me too. I was excited to see his approving smile at seeing my naked pussy. He asked if I had someone to take care of me and I said yes. I hadn't really thought of what that entailed. That's when I called you and told you what happened. You offered to fly out, but I still had my car to bring and I'd be a third of the way home by the time you got here and plus for two people, last minute, it would cost us $ 1700.00. So you agreed to Brian driving me home and said you'd see me in about three days. I remember you also said, "So your hands are both bandaged?" I said, "Yeh, big bandages too, like boxing gloves." You said, "Are you O.K. with Brian helping you when you have to pee and shower?" I hadn't thought about it but I said, "Well I guess we don't' have much choice do we? Are you O.K. with it?" You said, "Sure. I think you'll both find it very exciting too." I said, "Oh stop that, it's just something that's necessary and that's all there is to it." You said, "No problem Honey, I just want you to have a nice trip home and I love you." Well when we were leaving the hospital I began to realize you were so right. I needed help with going to the bathroom and I had to pee. I said, "Brian, I have to pee and you have to help me." He looked shocked and I found that so funny again. I was going to see once again the 'pussy power' you refer to whenever a guy sees a naked woman. So we went into the men's room. Fortunately it was empty. We entered a stall and I said, "Undo my shorts O.K.?" He unsnapped and unzipped them and slid them down. He stood there looking at my tiny panties and I said, "The panties too." He looked so nervous that I was sort of having fun. He tried to do it without looking, but I said, "Look Brian, I know this is awkward for us because I'm your Aunt but I am also a woman. Let's just get the looking part out of the way, O.K.? Go ahead, kneel down and take a nice long look so you know what you're doing and we can get on with this. You might as well get used to it, you're going to have to help me do this a lot for the next couple of days." So I stood there directly facing him and he got on his knees and delicately took hold of my panties and slowly slid them down to my ankles. He then just stared at my shaved pussy and my landing strip. I saw firsthand, 'pussy power' in action. He was mesmerized and said, "Oh Aunt Catherine, you are soooooo fine!!!! You have the most beautiful pussy I've ever seen!" I said, "Well thank you Brian, every gal loves to hear that, but keep it proper, O.K.? We are related and this is just a medical necessity. Remember that!" Then I sat on the toilet and peed. I peed quite a bit too from the beer I had before. He stared in amazement. I said, "Haven't you ever seen a girl pee before?" He said, "Nope and it's so cool!" I said, "Well you are very easy to please if you think peeing is cool. O.K., now get some toilet paper." So he got some toilet paper and I said, "Now reach in here and wipe my pussy." I did my best to open my legs for him. He slid his hands in between my legs and touched my pussy and blotted the paper and did a pretty good job wiping me. It felt exciting because I have never ever had anyone else do that for me. I said, "Great job, now get me fixed up." He pulled my tiny panties up and they were sort of bunched up in my crotch. I said, "Wait, get them nice and smooth, O.K.?" He reached in and straightened out my panty fabric and touched my pussy a lot doing it. He accidentally brushed against Miss Clitty and I bucked and said, "Careful around her soldier, she's mighty sensitive." He apologized as he pulled my shorts up and snapped and zipped them. I said, "Great, now please flush," he did. I said, "Well we have made it through the first time, are you O.K.?" He said, "Are you kidding? I hope you have to pee a hundred times!" I hit him with my elbow and looked mad, but I was really actually flattered. We went back to his place and loaded his bags in the car and said good bye to his friends. I had Brian help me change into one of my skirts. I figured it would be a lot easier on our bathroom breaks if he didn't have to keep taking down my shorts and panties. When we were in his room and he took off my shorts and panties I had him put some salve on my burned bottom. While I was standing there with my bubble butt all poked out, two of his roommates opened the door and came in to see if they could help him load his stuff. All I heard was, "Wooohheeeweee!!! That is one fine bootie!!!!!" I said, "Oh thanks boys!" They were covering their eyes and starting to leave and, feeling mischievous, I said, "You boys can watch if you want to, as sort of a thank you for letting me stay here and helping me out." So they stood and watched as Brian finished rubbing the salve on my bottom. Then I turned around and Brian held my skirt as I stepped into it. I figured I'd thank them for their hospitality with a peek at my pussy. They really thanked me for letting them watch. Just what is it that is so big a deal for a guy to see a naked girl? We women can take it or leave it if a guy is naked and in most cases we won't even want to see them. But you men never seem to get used to it or ever get tired of seeing a naked women, do you? I just really don't get that at all, but I will admit it sure is fun to discover the extent of the power this little pussy of mine has over men. Frankly, it's getting fun showing it. After our final good-byes Brian and I stopped at an SA and got a bunch of pop and snacks and we got out on the freeway heading home. We had a nice drive going. Brian had to drive of course because of my bandages. He was a good sport too because he had to hand feed me pretzels and even hold my pop while I drank it through a straw. (I did think to buy straws at the SA.). We drove 10 hours our first day. We had four bathroom breaks. Like I figured, it was much easier with just a skirt. After four more times, Brian was getting a little more used to seeing me half naked and I was getting used to it too. The only problem was while riding in the car, my skirt kept blowing up. I figured he'd seen me already so I just ignored it. After about the first four hours I got drowsy from my pain killers and he tilted my seat back so I could sleep. I did fall asleep too. When I woke up a couple of hours later my skirt was way up on my tummy. I said, "Brian, have I been this uncovered this whole time?" He said, "Please don't be pissed Aunt Catherine, you're just so beautiful and all this seeing you half naked has gotten me a bit horny. Plus you made a whole lot of truckers very happy. I was kind of pissed but strangely excited too thinking of a lot of men seeing my naked legs and my pussy, so I just let it go. He could only look and not touch me. That was my rule. If I leaned on my side he got so see my bare bottom and if I lay back he saw my legs and my pussy. Strangely enough I must admit that I really didn't mind. Maybe because he wasn't always pawing me the way you do. (No offense Honey.) That evening we stopped and got a room. We were tired. I needed a shower bad. I figured that he'd get so wet washing me that we might as well share one. I asked him about it and he said he was O.K. with that and that it made sense. He took both of our clothes off, mine first. It was strange seeing him naked because he's my nephew but he sure looked nice. Brian sort of showered while I stood in the back. When he was done I stepped up to the shower and got wet while I held my arms and hands straight up to keep them dry. He washed my hair and then got soap in his hands and began to wash me all up. After feeling his hands on my breasts I made him use a wash cloth. He washed my arms, legs, back and my bottom and finally as I put one leg up on the tub he washed my pussy. I made sure he rinsed it real good and told him to make sure all the soap gets out my every crevice. He sure did a complete job of that and I have to be honest, I got all excited. He had a huge hard on and apologized for it. I said I knew he couldn't help it and I understood. It was just that he kept bumping into me with it. When we were done he dried me off and that got me turned on again but there was nothing I could do about it. He took care of himself in the bathroom after I was in bed. Well that was pretty much how our trip went. We finally got home and in a day or two I got my bandages off. And if you will remember I made you take me into the bedroom and make love to me the minute I got in the door. I have never been so excited to be with you in my life and our loving was fantastic!!!! I will always be fond of Brian and I will never forget that trip. I know he won't either. Love, Catherine Helping Hands Tes watched as the hands tried to juggle. She focused harder, trying to control them better. The four hands could not coordinate with each other. The balls would fly up in the air in random arcs. If they did not completely miss the hand that was suppose to catch them, they would be bounced about on fingers with all the dexterity of a drunk having a seizure. With a defeated sigh, Tes turned off two of the four floating robotic hands. With less to focus on she could easily direct the two remaining hands to juggle with no problem. They would respond as well as her flesh and blood hands if she focused them on a task. She set the robotic hands to picking up the dropped balls while she used the ones she was born with to make a few notes. "I think you are getting a bit better with four of the neurolink hands. I can barely manage one," said Tes's lab assistant, Brandon. To emphasize his point he made the one hand floating by his shoulder wave at her. "Maybe, but I need better results. The neurolink hands will never be anything more than a novelty if I can't figure out a way to make them more easy to control," she replied. She adjusted her glasses in agitation. She had been fine tuning the controls on the neurolink hands for over a month now with little success in increasing the number that could be controlled effectively. Tes had first had the idea for the neurohands almost a year back. She had been working on a prototype robot for an asteroid mining project and found herself wishing that she had an extra set of hands to help with the work. Throughout the millennium of people that have had that same wish, Tes decided to make it a reality. She started a small side project of creating a cybernetic hand. Working in her free time, Tes slowly developed the invention that she hoped would now mark her crowning achievement. The neurolink hands looked for the most part like a human hand cut off at the wrist. The finely tuned servos and microgears allowed for the same level of manipulation as a human hand with all of the control. They were covered in soft, gray synthetic skin. The synthetic skin was designed to allow for precise measurement of pressure, heat, cold, and other sensations. A small gravity field generator provided locomotion for the unattached appendage along with the strength to lift any item grasped. It was the control that made the neurohands impressive. Tes had created a neurotransmiter that sent messages directly from her neuroimplant to the neurolink hands. She had modified the neurolink to take signals from the motor control centers of the brain so that the hands were directly controlled by her thoughts. They possessed no processors of their own, reacting as though they were a flesh and blood hand. The mind seemed to be hardwired for only the use of two hands however. "I think that calling them a 'novelty' is selling short what you've done. I mean, come on, everyone is going to want an extra set of hand," Brandon told her in that cheery voice he used when he wanted someone to look on the bright side, "The ability to do four things at once is something people have dreamed of for ages." "It may seem like they are a big help, but if you have to focus on them then you might as well use your own hands," Tes replied a bit tersely. She had been working long hours on this project and felt frustrated to her limit with the wall she seemed to have hit. Having someone tell her that she had done something great when she knew all she had really done was find a creative use for largely existing technologies added insult to injury. She directed a hand to bring her a cup of coffee from across the room. Brandon held up his hands in defeat. He knew better than to get in an extended argument with a perfectionist. He gave a glance down at his watch, "Its pretty late. Jenna is probably already on her way to pick me up. What do you say we call it a day?" "I suppose," Tes said as she leaned back in her chair and looked at the ceiling. As an after thought she added, "Go on, I'll take care of cleaning up. I still have a few more things to work on, but you have a bit more to do with your life than compile facts and figures." "Thanks," said Brandon as he picked up a few personal items. As he headed for the door he turned to tell Tessa, "Relax a little, Doc. It might help. I mean, its not like you can just will the hands to do what you want," then headed out the door. *** Brandon walked into the office with a yawn. He had stayed up later with his girlfriend than he probably should have with the early mornings expected at the lab. He had needed the relaxation, though. Lab work could be stressful enough, but literally trying to control extra hands with your brain could provide its own special level of stress. Headaches were becoming more common, so he hoped that this morning Tessa would want to work on one of the other projects so that they could both refresh. He knew she needed the break as much or more so than him, but less interested in it by far. The lab was a fairly consistent place. Everything was kept in order. Tools were kept in the same place, returned there constantly after use. Every project had a designated area and heaven help anyone that mixed up components. Even the chaotic jumble of notes and papers had a kind of mad order; at the very least, they had to remain confined to their respective desks. Tessa liked a clean lab and allowed for little decoration and personalization. It was because of this expectation of order that Brandon was left with his jaw hanging open when he saw the chaos that seemed to have descended onto his workspace. Half a dozen or more hands were engaged in a complicated juggling act that took up the entire lab. Cups, screwdrivers, safety glasses, and other assorted bric-a-brac arced through the air from one hand to another before being launched to yet another. Rolling around under it all, directing it like some great orchestra was a quite disheveled looking Tessa. Her chestnut hair was down and a bit of a flowing mess, so unlike the usual meticulous bun she usually kept it in for work. She was still wearing the same cloths from the day before. Given her habit of working through the night that was not so unusual, but she usually made a point to straighten them up before anyone arrived. Most unusual of all was the fact that Tessa was laughing with all the glee of kid in a candy store. "I thought you would never show up!" Tes said jovially. She wheeled her chair over towards him, spinning around as she went. Her feet never touched the floor. Instead, a neurolink hand pushed her. Two more hands brought steaming cups of coffee along behind her. She took a drink from one, not bothering to take it from the cybernetic hand, while the other was offered up to Brandon. Smirking she said, "I finally had the big breakthrough last night." "I can see," Brandon said, gawking at the sight. He took the offered coffee and drank deeply, "How did you do it? You've completely broken through the control barrier?" "Kinetic reflex," she replied in a matter-o-fact tone. When he stared back blankly she elaborated, "The brain can process massive amounts of information. When you catch a ball thrown to you, thousands of calculations have to happen. You have to adjust for speed, wind direction, and relative position. You don't do it consciously. Your mind and body just respond to it naturally. The calculations occur in the preconscious mind and then your arm moves to do what it has to. The only conscious thought is willing it all to happen." "Wait, you mean you are using your brain as processor for the hands?" Brandon asked. "More or less," Tes replied with a smug smile, "I rerouted the neuro controller to access the deeper cognitive centers of the cerebral cortex. The hands are still linked into motor centers so they still function like an extension of my own body, but now they are wired to work with the same instincts as well. I guess that means I can will them to do what I want," she added a triumphant tone to the last statement. "It seems like it is working pretty well," he remarked, scratched his chin then added, "But isn't there a reason that neurolinks are not normally linked into the deeper thought processes? It allows the machine a lot of access." Tes waved her left hand, and a left neurolink hand, dismissively, "That rule is for AIs. Its because people worry they could backfeed the control and take over someones mind. The neurolink hands lack an AI, and the point is now my mind can act as the VI for them. "Now, lets get to work. We've got a lot of tests to run today. I want to find out the limitations of this new system, not to mention finding out how it affects the mechanical limits of my new helping hands." *** "I think ten is a pretty good number to control," Brandon said as he finished writing down some notes. "It is acceptable. The human mind has its limits after-all," Tes said as she sat back in her chair, exhausted. Almost nine straight hours of putting the neurolink hands to task had taken a lot out of her. Her control over the hands was nothing short of phenomenal now. They had tested for the maximum controllable and settled on five left and five right hands. "True, and we will need to do long term studies on brain stress as well." "That, however, will start tomorrow," Tes said as she stood up to stretch. Brandon started to pickup a few items around the office, until he realized that the swarm of hands was taking care of the task even though Tessa's eyes were closed and she was still stretching. "I think we need to look into how they respond to commands without prompt as well..." "Yes, yes, that will be tomorrow, too. Now come on, I believe that you have a young woman on her way to steal you for the evening and I, frankly, am worn out and ready to go home," "What, you aren't going to go out and celebrate? Call up your friends and do something?" Brandon asked incredulously. "This is the big breakthrough you've been talking about." "I'm not really a big celebration person," Tes responded, a bit of color coming to her cheeks. Her life for the most part revolved around office. "Oh, well, I hope you have a relaxing evening anyway," Brandon said a bit awkwardly. "I will, I will," she replied as she headed for the door. "Uhh...aren't you going to leave the neurolink hands here?" Tes only paused for a moment, "No. I want to see how long I can keep them active and I am sure they will help with cleaning my apartment. I did make them for my use to begin with, after-all. *** Tes walked into her apartment and one of the hands took her coat to the rack while another pair opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine she had been saving for a special occasion. As a chair was pulled out for her at the table, wine was poured into two wine glasses. She held one up with her hand while a neurolink hand held up the other. "Cheers," she said, then downed her glass. She reclined a bit and eyed the other glass. She was not sure if she wanted to have two glasses. Drinking alone seemed a bit pathetic to her, and that was not something she wanted to feel tonight. So she let her head tilt back and gave a great sigh to exercise all the stress she felt. Tessa had worked hard for years to excel in her field. She had put in long hours in the lab which really precluded her from having much of a social life. She figured it had been at least a year since the last time she had a date. She did not meet a lot of men at the lab or conferences, and those she did seemed to have little interest. She had never been particularly gifted at making friends and knew that her demeanor could come off as aloof. To her, though, being personable had never been a part of getting work done. She was goal oriented and had always completed every project she had started. While that had brought her great success in her field, it would seem it had also left her largely alone. Tes shook all of those thoughts away. She was tired, too tired to really enjoy her success she determined. After tomorrow it would be the weekend and she could do something then. Maybe go out for a nice dinner. She use to be friendly with Laura in experimental engineering. Maybe she would come along and they could renew their acquaintance. Tes directed the second glass to the fridge and headed for the shower. A good, hot rinse would be nice. As she pealed off her cloths she realized just how long it had been since she last bathed. She gave a self-deprecating laugh as she realized what a mess she must have looked in the lab today, but did not care. She had been in her element then. Breakthroughs were her idea of fun. She had beaten the puzzle. That thought brought a smile to her face and banished the earlier gloom. Twenty minutes later she stepped out of the shower and felt refreshed. The wine had kicked in as well, a little buzz to take off the tension. The hands were waiting with a towel to pat her dry. No longer concerned with appearances, she was alone after all, she summoned the second glass from the fridge and took a sip as she walked naked through her apartment. There was definitely something freeing to being nude. Tes set down the glass, still half full, on her nightstand then plopped down on her bed. Laying there on her stomach she gave laugh at nothing particular. She tried to think about what she would do next. With an army of hands she could complete projects at triple, maybe even quadruple her normal rate. Either that, or she could take over the world, she thought with another laugh. There was something to be said for being a mad scientist. Right now though, she just wanted to feel free and for the stress to melt away. She almost jumped when she felt it. The synthoflesh on the hands was soft, but she could feel the solid plastic that was just below the surface. It was slightly cool with no internal heat. While it superficially felt like a human hand, it was unmistakably robotic in nature. Two of the hands had landed on her shoulders and started to massage her stiff muscles. She had not meant to direct them to do that, but on reflection she realized that was what she had been wishing for. The hands worked over her flesh with a skill no masseuse could match. They knew every point that needed attention and how to hit it just right. They were guided by her own mind and pleasure. Soon other hands were summoned to the cause. Her upper and lower back where being kneaded and rubbed. Two hands landing on her rear had seemed a bit strange at first, but after a minute it just faded into the whole experience. Hands worked out the stress from her. She let out a contented groan. She did not notice as two hands worked their way up her inner thighs. The fingers lightly stroked her soft flesh as they drew in closer to her center. It was not until she felt a finger slide along her folds that Tes noticed the change. Her first reaction was to buck and try to get up. That proved impossible: the hands were now holding her down. "What the heck, stop that!" she demanded. A moment later she realized how pointless that was. The hands were not voice controlled after all. She focused her mind and willed the hands to stop. This had no effect. The hands kept her pinned down, though they also kept massaging as well. Her surprise, and fear, started to grow. Hands grasped her ankles and pulled her legs farther apart. The cybernetic digit continued to run along her lips. Tes could not help her body's reaction. She had started to grow wet before she had realized what was happening, and now the sensual touch was drawing out more of her juices. It seemed as though both her body and the machines were betraying her. "Stop," Tes whimpered futilely. She tried to think of why this was happening. The hands were suppose to be responding to her will. What if they were doing just that though? She had wanted, desired something to relieve stress so they had started to massage her. She had to admit to herself that she had other urges that had not been met for a while. She had rooted the control of the hands in her subconscious, not her conscious mind. Tes was now seeing that she may have fallen into a trap of her own making, and was not sure how to get out. The finger kept stroking at her lips the entire time she tried to think of a way out. It gently pressed in to part the fold and was soon well coated in her juices. As Tes's heart rate rose, the finger found its way to slowly circle the swelling nub of her clit. Speed and pressure slowly built up, sapping away at Tes's ability to struggle. Another finger was now being slowly rubbed along her pussy lips and soon sinking deeper between her lips. It pressed forward, sinking in until it was deep inside of her. Tes could not stop the moans that came from her. The pleasure was undeniable. Even as she tried to fight for control, her instincts were to become more open to the hands. She felt helpless and vulnerable. This was a largely alien feeling to her. In her lab she was always in command and control. Now that was all stripped away and laid bare. Worst of all, those feelings seemed to be fueling her traitorous body's lust. If she had been able to focus better, she might have noticed the change in the count of hands on her body. Two were on each leg, one on each arm, two tormented her pussy, and one was rubbing her back. There had been one rubbing her butt as well, but it had lifted up. It hovered there for just a moment before coming down sharply with a resounding crack. "Ouch!" Tes cried, more in shock than pain. The hand rubbed where it had struck then rose up to take another swat. As the hand came down on her rear, the one that had been massaging her shoulders was now dragging its fingers sensuously down along her spine. It settled on her other cheek and rubbed it for a moment before raining down its own smack. The hands formed a rhythm of one rubbing where it had struck while the other would deliver its assault. Despite petulant protests, the hands continued until her rear was glowing red. As the finger slid in and out of her pussy, Tes could not help but pant. As much as she might wish to deny it, she was aroused in a way she had never known. The hands smacking her ass had added color to more than just her ass cheeks as she was forced to realize how much she enjoyed it. She wanted more, whether she could admit it or not. In response to that unspoken desire, a second finger slipped into her wet tunnel. As the two fingers pumped at her with growing speed, the others started another task. They began to lift her up into the air. She was soon suspended above her bed, spread-eagle. It was a short fall, but having the very ground below her stolen away added a new wave of helplessness. The hands held her at her wrists and ankles, firmly, but not painfully. The ones that had been helping to hold down, and tease, her thighs now crawled up along her body. The fingers tickled and teased as they went. They did not stop until they had reached her breasts. The fingers danced along her flesh, running sensual patterns across every inch. They knew what she desired in a way no lover could. No erogenous zone was missed as they drew towards her nipples. The cool fingertips run over nipples that already stood out in arousal. They pinched them with just the right amount of pressure to elicit a moan of pleasure, then pressed it just enough to turn that into a light whimper of enjoyed pain. The robotic fingers inside of her pussy continued to tease. They always angled for just the right spot, hitting that special place that sent a burst of electricity through her nervous system. The hand would speed up to push her towards the edge of pleasure then pull back and slow down right as her body was about to shake. It worked in tandem with the one that played with her clit. It rubbed and ground against the sensitive nub Tes was left on the edge of a cliff that she did not know if she wanted to be pushed off of or not. Helping Hands At first, Tes was relieved when the hands on her ass let up. She thought that perhaps her freedom might finally be returned. That small hope was shattered when one of the hands took a firm grip on her hair. It tugged at her hair until she was forced to tilt her head back. With her throat exposed, the second hand clamped down on her neck. It held on with a grip that could easily crush her. This night was one new terror after another for Tes. Every time it seemed like she might be free, it was yanked away from her, just another tease. This new twist was more frightening than the others. Was this truly something she desired? Did she really want to be rendered so helpless? The emotional strain and physical torture was growing to be to much. Tes was on the verge of tears. She did not know what she wanted. Juices freely flowed from Tes's pussy as the hand there settled into a deep and rhythmic pace. The hands on her breasts squeezed and massaged the mounds with growing urgency. Thumbs flicked over stiff nipples. All of it timed with perfect precision to the other hands actions. The hand that had been playing with her clit hovered around her body. It stroked her rear then pressed a finger between her cheeks. The finger tip rubbed against her, lubricated with her own juices. "No, no, no!" Tes exclaimed. She had hit a point of barely struggling, but this sent new energy through her body, "I don't want to be violated like that!" She protested. This could not really be what she wanted. She could not possibly desire to be so, so...dirty,...so naughty. It was the last thought that laid it all bare for her. She had been arguing against it all, but was to exhausted now. Her body was enjoying ever sensation thar had happened so far. She could not denny the fire and flood of her pussy, the stiffness of her nipples, or the hot rush that had come every time the hands exercised control over her body. Deep inside she wanted this all, wanted it, but had never admitted it. Now it was being given to her without asking. She let herself sink fully into the feeling. She stopped struggling and let the hands take full control over her. As she relaxed the finger slipped into her with ease. It was as though that was the signal for everything. The fingers that were deep in her pussy stopped teasing and simply fucked her. They drove in rapidly with deep and powerful thrusts. They hands on her breasts squeezed and knead them with rough vigor and pinched hard on her nipples. All of the hands had grown aggressive and demanding of her body. Pleasure was forced along every nerving ending as she was fucked mercilessly. "Yes! Oh, yesss! More, I need more!" Tes moaned as the sensations flooded her. Pleasure overrode her mind as her body grew tense. Her back arched like a bow as every muscled went stiff and her eyes rolled back. With a final gasp of breath she went over the edge, letting herself be pushed over the cliff of pleasure. Every inch of her body spasmed as she moaned in pleasure. It was like fire was in her veins. Pleasure. Pain. It all melted together as an orgasm like none she could have imagined raked her body, and it did not seem like it was going to stop. The tireless hands worked her body to fuel the pleasure without end. Tes was not sure when she ended up back on her bed. Her mind was hazy from the afterglow. She lay there panting and sweaty, her juices coating her thighs. Her hair was a mess and strewn about. The hands floated above her, apparently having entered standby mode. Tes was content with all of this. She had wanted to relax this evening, and could not remember feeling so at ease. She started to drift off to sleep with a contented smile. It looked like she had quite the celebration after all thanks to her helping hands. Helping Hands - Billy's Story Teresa and I first got to know each other at college. We'd both had unhappy encounters with young men - overgrown boys, really - who were eager for sex but lacked experience, patience, technique, everything you look for in a compatible lover. Not that we were experts ourselves but there was an inescapable mood of hedonism at the time that led us to discuss what we might be missing. Perhaps it was inevitable that one evening after we had shared a bottle of cheap plonk, we found ourselves in bed together. What we discovered was that if two women could shed their inhibitions they had an innate instinct for the means to please each other. At first it was little more than kissing and caressing but after the first steps the body's desires take over. We soon learned not to leave each other unsatisfied. Nevertheless, it has to be remembered that we were both only nineteen. In later years I came to look back on it as a crush that grew overheated. Or you might like to characterise it as some kind of female rite of passage. It lasted until graduation, though with lessening intensity, and then we went our separate ways. There was no emotional break-up, just a mutual drifting apart. We remembered each other's birthday, exchanged cards then and at Christmas, became friends who were no longer lovers. Anyway, as we matured we had to acknowledge wider sexual horizons, while at the same time learning to differentiate between men. The sheep from the goats, you might say. And there were plenty of goats. Charles wasn't one of them. He was charming, intelligent, courteous and he made me laugh, which was the deciding factor when I agreed to marry him. We had already been to bed frequently - everyone did, it seemed - and sex was fine if unadventurous. Possibly I was retreating a little from my fling with Teresa, content to be on my back with Charles thrusting until fulfilled. It seldom took long. My own orgasms were not guaranteed but masturbation was an acceptable alternative. It shouldn't have been. I realise now that I was aware then, if only subconsciously, that sex had more to offer. We should have discussed it, Charles and I, but we didn't. He was involved in sustaining the family bookselling business, which made heavy demands on his time and energy. So when our two sons came along I felt it necessary to take on the major responsibility for their upbringing. The years passed and sex became an occasional unsuccessful attempt to rekindle what had never been a raging furnace in the first place. When I tried to raise the subject, Charles was uncomfortable. He thought I was exaggerating. People of our age change, he said. Alone with my vibrator, I wondered if he was right. More and more, I began to believe he was profoundly wrong. But what to do about it? The boys grew up, graduated and left home. Neither showed any inclination to sell books, especially as the internet and the big chains were making life increasingly hazardous for the small independents. The demands on Charles grew. We wouldn't go bust but we couldn't sell up either. Economies meant fewer theatre trips or concerts. No holidays. At my most depressed I even contemplated divorce. It wasn't an option. I loved Charles. He remained a good husband, faithful, gentle and considerate, if less frequently able to make me laugh. Overall, a good husband in every respect - except one. My body was demanding more than the attentions of a battery-powered piece of plastic. Then a card arrived from Teresa. It was two days before my birthday. Charles was due to take me out for a meal. West end restaurants were no longer possible but there was a more modest, acceptable place nearby. That dinner gave me the chance to suggest to Charles that as we wouldn't be holidaying this year, I was wondering if I might visit an old college friend for a weekend. Charles gave his blessing, as I knew he would. I felt guilty but I didn't tell him I had already telephoned a surprised Teresa who had said she would be delighted to see me. Having taken the plunge, I sat on the train suddenly apprehensive. More than thirty years had passed since we had last seen each other. I knew from a brief note on a Christmas card that she had lost her husband to an untimely heart attack, but that was all. I couldn't even be sure I would recognise her. And what, exactly, did I expect us to say to each other? To be honest, when I arrived at the station I looked straight past the smartly-dressed, slim, dark-haired woman until she cried, "My darling Billy - how are you?" I had graduated from Wilhelmina to Billy while still at school and in time even my family had accepted it. As for Teresa, the voice was my first clue. That hadn't changed at all: low in pitch, educated upper-middle-class. And when I looked, I could see that this was still the same Teresa. Instinctively, I wondered if I had worn as well. The oval features, the high cheekbones, the narrow waist, the good legs, the dark tailored suit - they all added up to deliver a very well-preserved, attractive woman. Teresa hadn't just worn well, she had improved dramatically in graceful middle age. Even as we drove to her village some twenty miles away, my doubts about the wisdom of the visit began to recede. The gauche undergraduate I remembered had blossomed into a warm, relaxed hostess. Her home spoke of taste and understated luxury. A cautious question about her deceased husband elicited the information that he had done well in the City; and there had been family money which he had invested profitably. Teresa had been comfortably provided for. I unpacked in a chintzy guest bedroom that overlooked fields and distant wooded hills. Peace and quiet and open air - isn't that how the song goes? The village,Teresa had said, was very small and getting smaller, refuge for a dwindling number of retirees. But very friendly people and supportive, she said. At the time, I took the statement at face value, never dreaming quite how friendly they could be. Dinner was already prepared. "Just some smoked salmon and salad," Teresa said with a laugh. "My diet rules. I hope that's all right with you. I can allow myself a glass of wine." Momentarily I recalled a shared bottle of wine in our college rooms, but put the thought aside. We sat at the table catching up on our disparate lives during the long interval. If I envied her financial security, I sensed that she was wistful when I spoke of our sons; Teresa was childless. But as the evening wore on and the sky outside darkened, I felt that we were not quite the strangers I had feared we might be. We carried our wine glasses and the half-empty bottle of Muscadet through to the sitting room. "I shouldn't indulge," Teresa said, "but Billy, it's so good to see you again, so why not celebrate?" Soft lighting revealed a room that said a good deal about Teresa's situation. She saw I was looking at a number of paintings that I would have guessed were early twentieth Century without being able to put a name to the artists. I was contemplating a landscape of dappled sunlight with a distant train when Teresa broke in, "Pissaro. Spencer thought it might be a Pissaro but Sotheby's said not." "A pity." "Oh, it's still valuable. Or you would think so if you saw the insurance premiums. Spencer had an eye for work that would appreciate in value," she said, "but to me they're not important for what they are worth; to me, they are a lasting link with him." "Do you miss him very much?" I asked. "Yes. But not as much as I used to. I don't want to sound callous but I have to move on. I made up my mind I wouldn't be the grieving widow. I wanted something more than sympathy. People here have helped a lot." She turned away from the pictures, and we sat facing each other,Teresa in a deep armchair, me on the sofa. She sipped her wine. "Tell me about your Charles." I hesitated for only a few seconds but long enough for Teresa to go on, "Please Billy, tell me if I'm intruding and I'll shut up. The fact is I can't help noticing we've spent the last couple of hours catching up on our lives yet you've hardly mentioned your husband. If there's some kind of problem you don't want to talk about, we'll change the subject. But we're not naive girls any more so if you do want to talk, I can listen." If I am truthful, it was precisely why I was there but when the moment came I didn't find it easy. I'm afraid I rambled a good deal, about the business, about the boys going away, about the pressure Charles was under, what a good husband he was in so many ways, until Teresa interrupted. "But not in every way?" "Well ..." "Sex rears its ugly head. Am I right?" "Not often enough." "For you or him?" The questions were direct and perceptive but they were spoken kindly. "For me." I felt as though I were betraying Charles but it was the truth. On a pretext of refilling my glass, Teresa left her armchair and came to sit beside me on the sofa. She put her arm round my shoulder. "Maybe I'm putting two and two together and making five. Or maybe I'm not. Maybe you've never quite forgotten that once upon a time we knew each other rather well. Yes?" When I said nothing, she went on, "And therefore I might be someone safe to talk to about it." It was such a shrewd assessment after such a brief reunion, I found myself unable to deny it. I looked at Teresa and she was smiling. "Talk is good, Billy," she said, "and talk we will. But it's not the only kind of therapy." She drew me closer with the arm round my shoulder and put her mouth to mine. We kissed. She broke away to say, "Don't hold back, Billy. Please. This isn't just for you." Although I didn't realise it then, In those few seconds my whole life had begun to change direction. The second kiss was different, not only from her initial approach but different from the exploratory exchanges of our college days. Now there was hunger and urgency, probing tongues and whimpering sounds. Two mature women in the throes of a passion that demanded fulfilment. Was this really me? Us? When finally we broke apart, Teresa said, "Don't speak, Billy. Relax. It's what you need. We can talk later." Even as she spoke, she was grappling with my clothes, fingers fumbling in her haste, lifting my blouse over my head, unfastening my bra, lifting me from the sofa to let my skirt slide to the floor. I was left in my knickers - midnight blue and thankfully quite flattering to my hips - and the dark hold-ups that go with them. It seemed only seconds before Teresa was standing in a matching black lace set, looking down at me as I sprawled, half sitting, half lying, on the sofa. There was a pause while she seemed to regain a little composure. Then, very softly and gently, she said, "Oh, yes, I remember." Kneeling, she parted my legs, moved my knickers aside to expose my sex, and buried her head. Until that point I felt we had simply succumbed to a set of circumstances neither of us could control. But suddenly I wondered if the idea had always been in Teresa's mind, perhaps even before I arrived. It didn't matter. Planned or spontaneous, it had me totally in its thrall. As my companion's tongue began to lap slowly, carefully, knowingly against my clitoris, I abandoned myself to sheer physical pleasure. Teresa could do whatever she liked. I wanted it all. My only fear was puncturing the erotic enchantment: I mustn't give way to a quick orgasm without being sure I could sustain what we had begun. I needn't have been concerned. Teresa's ministrations were exquisitely subtle. Satisfied that her opening gambit had achieved its objective, she insinuated her tongue between my labia, savouring the moisture she had generated. Her return to my sweetly throbbing clitoris was prolonged and infinitely varied. Only when my responses told her a crisis was near did she back off completely. Sitting back on her heels, she looked up into my face and asked, "Is it good?" I nodded. "You know. Don't you?" "One doesn't forget. Would you like to do it for me?" "Of course." "But not yet. We mustn't hurry. Not when it's so good." How long it lasted I don't now know, but a long time. With seemingly infinite variation of lips, tongue, fingers, Teresa took me to the brink again and again. Her instinct for the impending moment of crisis was unfailing as she gently led me back down only to start building once more. At last I heard myself cry out for release, clutching the back of her head, forcing her face into my groin, demanding that her tongue should finish what it had begun. Surprisingly, I think, there was no great explosion. It happened slowly, the long delicious climb that spreads through the body until just the most subtle movement triggers the denouement. Recovery was very slow. Teresa, ever sensitive, continued to lap tenderly, licking up the juices that had coated my labia with an unprecedented flow of sweet stickiness. Only when my pulse rate had subsided to something nearer normal did she say, "My turn now. But not here." Taking me by the hand, leaving garments unheeded where they had been discarded, she led me to her bedroom. There, at her suggestion, I allowed her to remove my soggy knickers before returning the favour. My servicing of Teresa, I fear, lacked her ingenuity but I was soon aware that she was co-operating fully, spreading her legs, raising her bottom, twisting her body to meet my increasingly fervid efforts. All the while she was murmuring encouragement, teaching me what was good, what might be better. Determined not to fail her, I did as she asked - even when she suggested I could slide a finger carefully into her bottom while continuing to nibble at her distended clitoris. It wasn't something that had figured in our college love-making but I soon understood how arousing it could be for both of us. Sixty-nine proved less rewarding. Teresa's know-how induced such excitement I couldn't concentrate on playing my part. By one means and another, however, orgasms great and small came and went until we were sated, lying side by side, happily exhausted. "There's no need to use the guest bed," Teresa said. "Stay here with me. We might even wake up in the mood for more." Which, of course, we did. **************************** Returning home after the weekend wasn't easy. I simply don't know whether what had happened had been the result of my subconscious desire when I contacted Teresa in the first place, but I couldn't bring myself to regret it. On the other hand, I couldn't either avoid a sense of guilt when Charles asked if I had enjoyed myself. "Yes," I said, "We did a lot of catching up on old times." "I'm glad. You should do it more often. I've more than enough on my plate here - it'll do you good to get away from it occasionally." A green light that I justified to myself on the grounds that it might be saving our marriage; what Charles didn't give me in bed, Teresa could. At least, that's how it worked out for a while. But there came a weekend when my friend's intuition pierced my guard again. We were in relaxed mood with a glass of wine after a long exchange of kisses and caresses. "is it still good for you? Us, I mean." "Yes. Why not?" "Well, you say sex with Charles is more or less non-existent. You seem to enjoy what we have. So let me put it this way: do you think of yourself now as a lesbian?" This was a conversation I'd been having with myself but I had wanted to keep it from Teresa; if I wasn't prepared to think of myself that way, I was admitting that there was something missing with Teresa. When I didn't answer, she read my silence. "No? Neither do I. What we have is very special but I certainly couldn't manage without a man's attentions from time to time. And I guess you are much the same. Yes?" "Perhaps. But it's perhaps best not dwelt on. I mean, there's no obvious solution." That was when Teresa told me about something called Helping Hands and opened my naive eyes a whole lot wider. Apparently, the whole village was nothing short of a care-home for the sexually needy. Nobody seems to know how it started, though someone she called The Mad Major seems to have a lot to do with sustaining it. The Major and his wife are the only couple involved: Helping Hands is for singles, some divorce survivors but primarily widows and widowers. Teresa said that she and Spencer had knowing nothing of it, but soon after the funeral Major and Mrs made a call and issued the invitation. Everything about Helping Hands is informal. Occasional coffee mornings in the village hall serve as a focal point. Nothing untoward happens but newcomers can be looked over, innocent invitations offered. A suggestion that a man might help out with a little D-i-Y project, or perhaps an offer to iron a shirt or lend a book. Pretexts are easy; what then happens behind closed doors is a matter for two people and no-one else. But what is clear is that Helping Hands has a purpose much more basic than changing washers or baking cakes. "Do you see what I'm saying?" It dawned on me slowly. The only way Teresa could know about this startling enterprise was by being part of it. "You mean Helping Hands has found a man for you?" She smiled. "A man? Men, you mean." "Men?" "Oh, one at a time. Helping Hands doesn't organise orgies. It enables people to get in touch with each other. And if you get in touch with more than one, well - why not? Variety is the spice of life, isn't it?" I began to understand why Teresa was so satisfied with the life of a country widow. But there was something I didn't understand. "I'm sure I should be pleased for you. But where does that leave me?" She hesitated, clearly weighing up how to continue. Then she put down her glass, looked me in the eyes and said, "My dear, what I'm suggesting is that something could be arranged." "How do you mean?" "We are not short of obliging males." "But how?" "I don't know - I haven't really thought about it. But the house is here, I could make myself scarce." "Oh no, I couldn't." "Don't say no too quickly. Think about it. You may change your mind." Was this simply prescient Teresa again? It was almost as though she knew me better than I knew myself. Because just before the end of my visit , I found the courage to articulate a fantasy that had formed in my mind and wouldn't go away. "Remember our conversation about Helping Hands?" "Have you changed your mind?" Clever, direct Teresa again. "Not exactly. But I've been think about your offer - making your self scarce." "That still goes." "But ... suppose - Well, suppose you didn't?" "Kind of chaperone, you mean?" "No. What I mean Teresa, is could we be ... together - and get one of your friends to join us." For once, I had managed to surprise her. But not for long. The sparkle in her eye told me all I needed to know. That's how I heard about Big John. **************************** It was arranged for my next visit. Teresa met me at the station and confirmed that all was well. We arrived at her house shortly before seven; John was due at eight. We had agreed a tight schedule for two reasons: to give me the minimum time to lose my nerve (which I easily could have done), and to remove the temptation to indulge ourselves first. We wanted to keep appetites sharp. I showered and changed: a new white bra and French knickers set under a loose silk gown. Teresa would wear the black lingerie that she said always turned John on. Hopefully, the black-white contrast would enhance the effect. I couldn't help my nerves but when Teresa, imbued with eager anticipation, suggested a stiff drink I refused. This had been my idea and I wanted to enjoy it completely sober. John proved to be everything Teresa had promised. He was probably ten years older than either of us, tall, grey-haired, clean-shaven with honest blue eyes. He wore what looked like his best casual outfit: dark blazer and pressed grey slacks, white shirt, no tie. He shook my hand firmly but with no air of presumption or forwardness: a manifestation of the courtesy that Teresa said was typical of the Helping Hands generation. When, though, I lowered my gaze and looked closely, I thought I could detect a telltale bulge. Maybe my imagination, or maybe John's quiet manner concealed a need as pronounced as my own. Helping Hands - Billy's Story Teresa, ever the gracious hostess, dealt easily with a slight awkwardness that had followed the introductions. "Now, darlings, no-one has to be shy here. We all want the same thing and I don't see any reason to put it off. I think the bedroom is indicated." Interestingly, John led the way and, once there, enquired politely if he could use a coat hanger. His voice was soft with just a hint of the countryman. He opened a wardrobe door and removed his jacket. I concluded he was no stranger to Teresa's boudoir. Turning to face us, he paused with his hand on his belt buckle. "Yes, John, please carry on." Teresa might as easily have been asking him to display the roses she says he grows. "Show Billy I haven't exaggerated. And while we're about it, we can show you something, too." Moving to my side, she stepped out of her housecoat and motioned that I should do the same. With one arm round my waist, she slid her other hand inside her knickers: my cue, too. Any embarrassment I felt at behaving like this in front of a man I had met only minutes earlier didn't last. John, having removed his trousers and hung them with his jacket, turned to us with his own hand in front of his groin. "I hope I won't disappoint you," he said. In one movement, he removed his hand and stepped out of his boxer shorts. I remember thinking I hoped he'd take off his socks (which he soon did) but that couldn't seriously detract from the magnificent sight of a huge erect penis, circumcised, the head purple and gleaming. Only lightly supported by his fingers, it stood out proudly from a few wisps of grey hairs. He certainly didn't disappoint me. So far, so good. But what now? The same question was apparently troubling John. Looking from me to Teresa, he said, "Excuse me, Terry, but this is all a bit strange to me. How do you want to - " Terry? It was the obvious diminutive, just as I had become Billy, but I had never heard it applied to my friend before; the relationship grew more intriguing by the minute. Teresa was unflustered, calmly taking charge. "This is Billy's treat," she said, "but perhaps I could just have a little taste first." Indicating that for the moment I should perch on the edge of the bed to watch, she knelt in front of John and took his penis in her left hand, guided it to her mouth and kissed the tip. John widened his stance slightly and closed his eyes. Teresa turned to reassure herself that my view wasn't obscured before opening her mouth. The relish with which she set about taking in the rigid member was unmistakable. I noticed that she seemed unable to cope with much more than half the length. How, I wondered, would I manage? I didn't have long to wait. Teresa was preparing him for me and it must be said that he didn't need much preparing. Our hostess rose to her feet and brought John to the bed. "Now," she told him, "there's no reason why we shouldn't both give Billy a good time. Can you just kneel there?" When John nodded acceptance, Teresa persuaded me to lie back on the bed. John knelt beside my head. Suddenly that distended purple knob that had just emerged from my friend's mouth was only inches from my face. "Are you all right, Billy?" he asked. I nodded, smiling, encouraging him to continue. I did appreciate his cautious approach but my anticipation of experiencing a strange man hadn't begun half an hour ago; I had been building up to this moment for days. I was ready. I wanted that cock. Opening my mouth, I reached up and grasped the shaft and took it in. Impossible to describe how it felt to me but it had to be good for John, too. I was determined this shouldn't be some abstract technical experience on his behalf. I hollowed my cheeks and sucked. I held him outside me while I licked the underside of his knob, cupping and squeezing his balls with my other hand. I knew it was working when John began thrusting movements, pressing forward to bury as much as possible of that great length between my lips. I pressed my tongue against it as it entered, creating the friction he was starting to enjoy. That was when I discovered what Teresa - Terry? - had meant when she spoke of both of both of them giving me a good time. While I devoted all my efforts towards more saliva for better lubrication, more suction for greater arousal, I became aware of Teresa moving my legs apart and raising my knees. I knew what would follow. Wasn't this how we we had behaved when there were only the two of us? I felt her mouth descend upon my sex to begin the teasing titillation which so many times in the past had brought me to the inescapable brink. Now, though, it was a more complex relationship and I was caught in the middle. I had to be aware of the sounds and movements that might tell me of John's need for a few moments of recuperation to prevent a premature discharge, but at the same my body was ready to abandon itself to whatever response Teresa's tongue was stimulating. All I can say, looking back with more experience than I had then, is that I was vaguely aware of reaching towards sexual heights I had scarcely dreamed existed. Eventually, though by no means hurriedly, Teresa decided it was time for a change. "Would you like to have John now?" she said. No need to ask, but I had a contribution of my own to make. "Yes," I said, "but like this." Slightly apprehensive about taking that monster when I was on my back, wide open and susceptible to deep penetration, I wanted him to take me from behind. I let John remove my knickers, running his hand across my vulva as he did so. That done, I turned on to my knees and waited. John took his time, enjoying the view I was offering him, I suspect. Then I felt the first contact, the bulging head nudging against my lips, testing to see if I was ready. While I was wondering where Teresa was in all this, I heard her voice. She was speaking quietly, to John and to me, introducing a new element to the erotic mix. And this was a different, startling Teresa, speaking softly but raising the temperature with uninhibited language. "Billy," she murmured, "John is going to give you his cock now. He'll be careful, I promise you, but he'll be trying to get it all up you." The head nestled between my lips. Then Teresa again: "That's good, John. Slowly and you won't have a problem. That's a hot, wet cunt. I know. I've been there." It was already making its way inside. I felt Teresa's hands on my bottom, spreading me wide to help his access. "See if you can go all the way in, then hold still. Let her feel your balls up against her." The probe came slowly but with relentless determination, burrowing into my inner depths. The further he penetrated, the more sure I became that I could take it all. He stopped, pressing hard against my bottom. I was aware of the knob nuzzling my uterus. I could feel his balls, swaying against me. Teresa gave us time to appreciate the sensation, ensuring that John grew accustomed to the humid walls pulsing against his shaft while he still had control. Then she urged him into action again. "Now fuck her, John. Like you do me. Slowly now." I felt him withdraw until I guess, about half his length was outside. "I knew she wouldn't let you down. She's so wet in there - her juice is all over your cock. Give it to her now." John began to pump. With each insertion the speed increased. There was more force, too. I was loving it, happy that I could cope with the size, settling into John's rhythm, aroused further by Teresa's encouragement. " Yes, John, fuck her faster. I'm sure she's all right. It's what she wanted." He was holding on to my hips and that seemed to help him settle into a consistent tempo. We had found an equilibrium and with it the confidence to give ourselves up to a pleasure that grew ever more intense without threatening to overwhelm us. Until Teresa appeared in front of me. I saw that she, too, was now without knickers as she slid half underneath me, opening her legs, holding her labia open with her fingers to display the moist pinkness within. The invitation couldn't have been more obvious, but Teresa was on a roll. "Lick my cunt, Billy. Suck me. Get your tongue up me. Nobody can do it like you." It wasn't easy. Teresa was already on heat and was soon squirming with pleasure as I tried to give her what she wanted. The problem was maintaining contact as every piston stroke from John rammed against me, jolting me forward. Somehow, we managed, John fucking, me sucking, John gasping as he fought to master the rising juices in his balls, Teresa moaning and mouthing the words she hoped would drive me to finish what we had started. The three of us went at it with renewed urgency. A series of tremors in her thighs and a lurching pelvis accompanied by a loud, wailing cry announced her orgasm. Immediately, John reined back, decelerating with each insertion until he was able to withdraw completely. Rolling on to my back, using Teresa's lower stomach as a pillow, I saw that his erection was undiminished. Teresa was aware, too. "I'm done, John," she said. "Billy's sucked me dry. You finish her off. Fuck her and make sure it's good for both of you." We needed no second bidding. I had long ago embraced the debauchery I had invited, and now I was ready for its culmination. Teresa reached behind her head to hand John two pillows which he arranged under my bottom. With my knees drawn up and the soles of my feet firmly planted, I was open and waiting. John was astonishing. With the same thoughtful care he had shown throughout, he steered his great cock into the waiting portals, paused for a few seconds and then re-established the same rhythm he had used on me from behind. The difference now was that I could lift my head and watch that stiff rod as it slid inside me, see on each withdrawal the glistening juice that lubricated it. There was the sound, too, of perspiring flesh against flesh. There were Teresa's almost incoherent cries of lust, urging us to seek new limits, new areas of ecstasy. She moved from underneath me to suck at my nipples. Her hand stole down to find my clitoris. She had sensed that neither John nor I could resist for much longer. "Don't come yet, John." She spoke with unexpected authority, the old Teresa, masterminding the finale. "Let me get her there first. Then - you know ..." Whatever that entailed, John understood. I saw him close his eyes in concentration and then gave myself up to reaching the most overpowering orgasm of my life. John continued to fuck me, feeding his cock to the back of my cunt while Teresa worked my clitoris. They didn't hurry. I made a conscious effort not to reach for it. And so together we strove, up and up and up to the point of no return. When it came, Teresa clamped her palm across my mound as though to contain the throbbing pleasure that originated there and coursed through my body. John, meanwhile, was no longer inside me. He was standing, feet straddled each side of us as Teresa and I lay side by side. His hand was working the shaft of his cock in much the same manner that he had fucked me, confidently stoking up the pace until, with a deep groan, a stream of spunk rained down on us. A virtuoso performance had finally delivered. As we lay together recovering, I thought back to my nervousness in raising the possibility in the first place -and wondered why I had waited so long. **************************** If subsequent weekends with Teresa and John never quite scaled those delirious heights again, experience brought deeper awareness. I can honestly say that our couplings never disappointed. There cam an occasion when Teresa blithely confessed that she was not averse to warming up with a spanking session. I declined an invitation to join in, but watching his hand descending on her bottom - John liked her to be wearing the black knickers - helped prepare me, too, for what followed. John, courteous, patient, Big John with his huge cock, and wise, uninhibited Teresa, with her fertile imagination, never left me unsatisfied, always sent me away eager for the next time. There was , though, a downside. As the months passed my feelings of disloyalty to Charles grew until they could no longer be suppressed. He never ceased to encourage me to take weekends at the village, never doubted that my visits were anything but innocent. That became a problem I couldn't deal with. In the end, I had to act for my own peace of mind. Unable to guess how Charles would react, I waited until we were in bed one evening. It was some while since he had shown any desire for sex, so I used that as an excuse to raise the subject. No to accuse but to confess. I told him everything, how it had started with Teresa at college, how we had rekindled the flame that eventually became a furnace. I included John's contribution and tried to explain how the whole experience had unlocked emotions I didn't know had lain dormant inside me. Charles listened the whole time without speaking. But as I went on, I became aware that his hand was moving inside his pyjamas. Of all responses, this was one I hadn't foreseen. How should I react? Without pausing to think, I put my own hand down to confirm that he was indeed erect, stroking himself. "Shall I help you?" I said, hardly daring to speak. "That would be nice," he said. I did so cautiously, scared that if I made him ejaculate, a moment of rare intimacy might be destroyed. Instead, I heard myself say, "Would you like to fuck me?" Charles didn't answer. He was clumsily wriggling out of his pyjama trousers, handling himself at the same time. Sensing that this wasn't the time for talk, I rolled on to my back and opened my legs. My fingers told me I was only just starting to moisten but never mind, there was a moment that had to be seized. Charles was already kneeling between my legs, pushing into me. By the time I took over to guide him along the right path, there was enough lubrication to ease the way. He started to work himself in and out. "That's nice, Charles," I reassured him, remembering how Teresa had blown away a mental block. "I want you to fuck me hard. I like the way you do it. When you're ready, shoot your spunk up me." Wonderfully, miraculously almost, it did the trick. Charles drove into me. "I want to fuck you," he said. "You're very wet." Thrust. "Your cunt." Thrust. "Your lovely hot cunt." Thrust. "I can fuck it for you." Thrust. "Fill it with my spunk." Thrust, "Like this!" With a shudder, he was finished, collapsing on top of me. We talked for a long time that night. A barrier had been breached and many more were demolished before we slept. We were united in a way we hadn't been since we were married. Much has happened since. And next weekend, Teresa and John are coming to stay with us.