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From: "Paris Waterman" <the_panda@hotmail.com>
Subject: NEW: Helen & I  Chapters 7-10  MFF
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Helen & I


By Paris Waterman


© Paris Waterman 1998

 

CHAPTER 7

Forty-five minutes later we entered Fuzzie's, a downtown restaurant with 
a good lounge. Helen's wearing a deep green sarong and the top of a 
black bikini. She is definitely a knockout. There's a lot of cleavage. 
She's not wearing any underwear. I can tell I'm the envy of every guy in 
the place, since every male and several female heads seem to have 
directed their attention to Helen. (Am I a male chauvinist, or what?) 
I'm watching, somewhat amused and very proud, as several wives or 
girlfriends start jabbing elbows into their men to recapture their 
attention. Mentally, I speak to all these women, telling them to remind 
their guys about how good Helen looked after they've gone to bed. They 
may revive some dormant dicks.

Oh, yes, I was enjoying myself. We sat at the bar and ordered a Dewars 
scotch and water for Helen and an Absolute martini on-the-rocks with a 
twist of lemon for myself. Twenty minutes later we moved to a booth in 
the darker recesses of the restaurant where we chose to sit side by 
side. Helen ordered mackerel in a marinara sauce, with zucchini and 
squash. When it arrived, it made for a very colorful plate. I went for a 
major league sized shrimp cocktail, followed by a light salad. And, of 
course, a second round of drinks was needed. Our waitress was a really 
cute blonde. I said as much to Helen. She looked at me over the rim of 
her glass and raised her eyebrows as if to say "Oh?" Stung, and 
surprised by the gesture, I attempted to justify myself. "Really, I like 
her, what about you?"

"Let's wait and see," she responded mysteriously, and took a lusty bite 
of her mackerel, pausing between chews to erotically lick some marinara 
sauce from her lips. Where was this leading, I wondered. The sarong had 
fallen open; exposing her long tanned inner thigh. She didn't bother to 
fix the sarong. She appeared to be weighing my comment about the 
waitress.

"Would you like to have us both in bed," she asked finally, looking 
directly into my eyes, "I wouldn't mind if you did." I reached for my 
martini, racing to formulate the right response to her question. Was 
this a test? Was Helen sincere? Was I in hump heaven?

Quickly, I reached a decision. If I guessed wrong about this, I consoled 
myself, I could grovel appropriately to regain her good graces.

I swallowed some Absolute, which now seemed more water than vodka and 
said: "She's awfully attractive," keeping my expression sober, "I think 
the two of you would complement each other in many ways, that is, if she 
has half the sex drive you do." "Oh, cut the crap," Helen began, "You 
love the idea, and I feel like experimenting. Let's start foolin' around 
right here and I'll be able to figure out how hot that makes her.

If we do it right we can have her in our bed tomorrow night . . .. Not 
tonight. Tonight belongs to me alone." There was nothing to say but 
"Let's go for it."

 

CHAPTER 8

Helen observed the waitress had begun her approach back to our table to 
check on our drinks, and in sotto voice, that I kiss her. As I reached 
for her, Helen pulled herself up in the booth and let the sarong fall 
away from her leg completely now, exposing it nearly to the hip. The 
very edge of the dark triangle between her legs was visible above the 
sloping curve of her naked thigh. The gesture seemed to be deliberate in 
that it was impossible for the waitress to miss. We kissed, open 
mouthed, our tongues trying desperately to switch mouths, while the 
waitress stood mesmerized in place. As the kiss continued, I had an 
inspiration, and languidly reached out and began to caress the 
waitress's calf. She trembled, but did not move, nor did she say 
anything. As we broke off our kiss, I moved my hand higher to her lower 
thigh, and spoke to her. "Ah, good timing. Another round please," I said 
as I removed my hand. "Yeesss sir, I'll be right back." she stammered, 
stumbling as she started to leave, but managing to catch herself in 
time.

"Jim," Helen said, "that was great! I'm sure she's hot now. When she 
brings back the drinks do it, or something like it again." I turned away 
from Helen to follow the Waitress's firm ass as she wove her way to the 
bar, "and what will you be doing when she returns?" "This," she replied, 
reaching down and opening my fly, to withdraw my cock. Two strokes and a 
good squeeze and I was fully erect.

"Okay?" she said coolly, and she touched her tongue into her scotch, 
never taking her eyes off me. "Actually, this won't be my first sexual 
encounter with another woman." She tossed her head, and her auburn hair 
jumped up only to settle quickly back in place. "When I was in college 
my roommate and I got back late one night after a party. I went to sleep 
immediately, only to wake up and realize she was in bed with me. She was 
naked and was touching my breasts. She started to take my panties off. I 
let her. I was completely passive at first, letting her do the work. 
Then after a while, I began touching her too, gently, every small 
movement an incredible experience, that I found astonishingly 
pleasurable. It was bizarre, like touching myself. I remember two 
special things: the weight of her breasts . . . the subtle change in 
texture that became the nipple, and the little hollow place inside her 
thigh, near her vulva. I knew how I liked that touch, so I knew what I 
was doing to her and how she must have felt. I have not done it since. 
It's time to enjoy a woman again, but this time I want you to share the 
intimacy with me."

Still slowly stoking my cock, she looked down at her glass and poked at 
her ice a moment, shoving it around in a swirl. I caught a movement off 
to the side. "Here she comes," I said, wondering how long this idea had 
been fermenting in that active mind of hers.

The waitress was dressed casually, white tailored shorts and a white 
safari shirt. She served our drinks in a somewhat subdued manner. I 
replaced my hand on her thigh as Helen began talking to her. She 
fidgeted in her cute cuffed shorts, like a reprimanded schoolgirl, but 
did not turn to leave. Her youthful breasts required no help to create a 
seductive cleavage. Had she undone a button or two before returning?

Her permed ginger hair was full and bouncy around her face, which even 
when expressing confusion as it was now, was a seductive attraction to 
either sex. She kept glancing away from Helen's face, drawn first to 
Helen's hand which was slowly milking my cock, and then to Helen's now 
almost unobstructed view of her cunt.

I lost track of Helen's conversation with her, simply because there was 
no objection as my hand rose closer to the V between her thighs. My 
fingers were now under her shorts. They were tight shorts and my 
operating room was limited, but I felt the dampness within non-the-less.

She sighed, a sure indication of compliance, as I slowly withdrew to a 
lower level, but maintained contact with her thigh at all times.

Her name is Anne. I got that much from the conversation. Helen said 
something else to her that I didn't catch, and closing her sarong, 
leaned forward, exposing her breasts almost to the nipples as she rose 
up from the booth. They headed for the ladies room together as though 
they were old friends. Alone, I replaced Bubba, and checked my watch, 
suddenly concerned about getting up for work in the morning, then 
working out a fabricated story to explain my absence in the event . . ..

They are gone about 25 minutes and Helen has this self-assured look when 
they return. Anne places herself in a position where I can easily return 
to caressing her thigh. As I do Anne smiles down at me, while running a 
hand though her hair, "I'd love to join you guys after work, but I'm 
meeting someone tonight. I'm off tomorrow though."

Helen jumps in saying: "That's great. Tomorrow at 8. We'll pick you up 
here at Fuzzie's Okay?" Anne agrees. "Tomorrow at 8 it is." Wistfully I 
remove my hand from its illicit travels and place it in Helen's lap, 
working my way under her sarong. She's soaking wet.

Annie following my hand with her eyes grins again and says goodnight. I 
leave a preposterous tip and we leave for Helen's.

Back at Helen's, she asks if I want a nightcap. I decline, "I think I'll 
pass. I'm going to need everything I can muster up for tomorrow's 
meeting. Helen laughed and squeezed my privates. "You'll be fine. I have 
plenty of toys to keep all of us going for as long as we need to go." 
That did it, self-imposed curfew be damned, I was ready to go again, but 
she ushered me to the door and kissed me goodnight.

I got home around two, wondering if Anne was already filling in for me.

 

CHAPTER 9

The next day, I drove past joggers sweating in the hazy, late afternoon 
heat as they pounded, loped, plodded, and briskly walked along the paths 
that ran between the winding drive and the pines of the densely wooded 
park separating Helen and I.

My meeting, a success, behind me, I was free to ponder other matters. I 
thought about Anne and I wondered about Helen. I parked the Wagoneer in 
the lot, and walked down the hot asphalt drive and around to Helen's 
apartment entrance. I was on time. Helen greeted me warmly; her soft 
silken lips opened against mine, tongues mingled and our body's ground 
firmly against each other.

She was wearing a cinnamon hued smock with a dove-colored apron, but I 
didn't smell anything cooking. I continued to grope away at her lush 
body until I felt something on her left nipple. It was a ring. She was 
wearing a ring through her nipple!

"Did you have that done today?" I asked, totally bewildered. "No," she 
smirked in reply, " I can remove it whenever I want. My nipple's 
pierced, haven't you noticed?" Evading the question, I told her how good 
she looked. She laughed and said, "Good enough to eat?" I laughed, 
whipped out my handkerchief, and said, "Sure, I've even brought my own 
napkin." Helen laughed, as she pushed me away, "Well maybe later, but 
right now we've got work to do."

Leaving me standing there, she left the room, turning her gorgeous red 
head to say, "Take off all your clothes! Get Bubba warmed up. I'll be 
right back" I was happy to comply. From the next room she called out, 
"Come into the spare room." Another first for me, I followed her voice 
into what appeared to be a workshop of sorts. Basic tools, pallets, 
frames and art implements of all types were scattered around. It was not 
untidy exactly, but appeared to be supporting a series of projects in 
progress. I was aware Helen had majored in art at college, but knew she 
earned a living in the world of marketing. I'd never put the two 
together. In the far corner there was a tub with dry plaster in it.

"Err, what are you up to Helen?" I asked quietly, queasiness began to 
fill my stomach. Helen called into the room, "James, you're going to 
model for me." "What? Oh, yeah, right."

She returned to the room, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. "I'm going 
to make a plaster cast of your cock. How big would you say it is?"

I knew, but feigning shyness, claimed I didn't. "Oh, yeah, right 
yourself," she muttered as she grabbed a tape, and checked me out, first 
making sure I was at my peak. "Length a mite over 9 inches, girth, 3 
1/2." (I'm only repeating what Helen said, I wouldn't want to brag about 
stuff like this, especially when I can honestly write about Helen and 
her tape.) Helen grimaced, but did not relax her grip on Bubba. "I 
thought you were at least a ten, but I'm not complaining. Now sit down 
while I mix the plaster of Paris." I couldn't resist asking if this 
would hurt. She came over and without using her hands, nuzzled me, 
partly because I'd made her laugh, partly to keep me fully erect. It 
worked.

She had me stand up and applied the plaster to my erection, and my 
balls. I wondered how I was going to maintain my erection while the 
plaster did its thing. I asked Helen. "Thanks for reminding me," she 
said as she rinsed her hands in a small sink and left the room 
momentarily, only to return with the beads.

I was a good soldier. I remained at attention for the entire operation. 
Eventually, she removed the plaster cast, and walah! There was my 
one-eyed double looking at me. Wow! I was impressed. "Hi Bubba!" I 
grinned. Helen said, "Now I can remember you forever," and placed the 
still wet cast of my cock on the mantle like a trophy.

Kind of romantic, don't you think? I wondered where she kept her other 
memories.

Then she surprised me again. "We are not having sex now. You will have 
to wait until we get Anne warmed up later. But you can do me a favor and 
help me sort out my toys for later." I walked to the toy box and looked 
in. This was another eye opener. There was a strap-on dildo. No, there 
were two! What I'd call a real biggy and a normal six-inch version. Then 
I found several vibrators. Did this girl love to play her instrument or 
what!

Helen guaranteed I'd love them and began to explain how they differed. 
"You know Jim, a vibrator doesn't snore, or let you down, but it never 
says I love you either. That's why we keep you guys around." "Oh boy!" I 
said, "Thank God for small favors."

If I remember correctly, and I was sufficiently impressed to do that, 
first off there was Mr. Hard Throb: looked like the real thing. About 7" 
with a skin like texture. Shorty came next. I'm not making this up. 
Shorty had a curved tip, and I'm told he's anxious to please, great for 
G-spot stimulation. Okay!

By the way, I've found out where the G-spot is, another of life's 
mysteries solved. Praise the Lord.

A wet/dry massager was next. Hey, you can jump from the shower to the 
bed without missing a beat. It has bumps to give you bumps. About 12" 
long, Wow! And good grief, it had an extension to reach those hard to 
get to places. I asked Helen if it really helped her singing in the 
shower. She took a fit of laughing, smacked me and threatened to have 
Anne and her pee on me in the shower later. I told her I'd never stand 
still for that and I knew how hard it was for women to hit a moving 
target. She continued laughing as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"You'll get extra special treatment tonight for that baby!" I laughed 
and retorted, "threats like that I can handle."

Helen explained the next toy carefully. "This is the Eager Beaver. Long 
and thin, it rotates and vibrates inside the vagina." I'm paying close 
attention and notice a miniature beaver, at the base, with a fast moving 
snout designed to diddle the clit. I told Helen, "You women sure have it 
made. No wonder you're so clean, all that time in the tub. Now I know . 
. .."

Helen presented me with a present. A pack of 10 Maxx condoms. I asked if 
she expected me to use them all tonight. "Don't push it," she laughed.

Then she pulled down her panties reached inside her vagina and pulled 
out what she called her ben wa balls. Two small metal balls linked 
together. She told me they stimulate her during normal daytime 
activities. "You wear them to your day job? " I asked. Helen smirked and 
said, " Sure they keep me horny all day. Sometimes I masturbate in the 
ladies room; sometimes I just sit at my desk and keep squeezing my legs 
together until I get off. But the balls also help strengthen my clitoral 
muscles, the better to grab your cock by, ha, ha, ha."

And I thought I'd finished with school, hell, and here I am going for my 
Ph.D.

Then I picked up an egg shaped object, with little springs (looking 
remarkably like stubby legs). Helen told me she sticks it inside her as 
an alternative to the ben wa balls and it kind of moves around in there 
and stimulates things a bit. "Hmmmmm!" I sang out. "A Mexican humping 
bean." Helen swung around and put her legs on my shoulders. "Have a 
burrito, Signor?" Helen whispered erotically. I was incredibly turned 
on! Hungrily, I went down on her warm and frothy burrito bush.

What a start! And I hadn't gotten laid yet.

 

CHAPTER 10

By design, I left toys in various places around the apartment while 
Helen dressed in brown-ocher jeans, boat shoes, and leaving off her bra, 
pulled on a cream colored angora sweater guaranteed to stimulate her 
nipples, and left the apartment. After a quick bite at Shober's we drove 
to Frizzi's and picked up Anne, who was standing outside waiting for us.

Bits and pieces about Annie: She was indeed exceptional, only nineteen, 
she matter-of-factly told us she's 36 D 22 38 and a real blonde. We 
didn't argue. I thought she was about 5'5". Her appearance was very 
neat. Wearing a charcoal gray, pinstriped business jacket with an 
expensive white skirt and matching white shoes, I could easily believe 
that what she possessed beneath her clothes was equally inspiring. They 
weren't her work clothes; she was dressed for success. I made an 
assumption that Anne came from money. I drove back to Helen's. The girls 
sat in the back. There was no fooling around.

We arrived at the apartment, where music was playing softly. I thought 
it might be Antonio Carlos Jobin, this would certainly help stage the 
opening mood for the evening. Later, I knew the Bolero would help us 
quench the lust, which was already perceptible within the room.

Helen offered to make drinks, and stepped behind the tiled bar to do so. 
While she did, Anne roamed around the living room, stopping at the 
mantle and picking up my plaster cast. "Where did you find this Helen?"

Holding the phallic symbol out in front of her like a peace offering. 
Helen laughed, and said: "The original is sitting five feet from you." 
Anne licked her lips lewdly, and came towards me while inserting the 
cast into her mouth. Removing it as she reached a point directly in 
front of me, she said, "I hear there's nothing like the real thing."

Helen had returned with the drinks, but stood off to the side watching. 
Anne knelt down and unzipped my fly. She reached in pulled the real 
McCoy out, and took me in her mouth. The night was under way. Helen 
interrupted Anne after permitting her a brief period of felatio.

"Here's your drink Anne," holding it out until Anne accepted it. My cock 
dropped from her mouth, landing with a soft thud against my thigh. 
"Okay," Helen commanded, "let's get *fucking* comfortable. Into the 
bedroom, take your clothes off everybody." Hastening to comply, I failed 
to fully remove my leg from my slacks and tripped, falling against the 
bedpost. I admonished myself against getting hurt at the worst possible 
time. I continued to strip, but a slower pace as I greedily watched Anne 
remove her jacket and skirt. I began stroking myself and asked her to 
turn around so I could look at her. She flashed her smile and complied, 
still undressing. I noted Helen, halter in hand, stop to watch too. 
Anne's bra dropped to the floor and she bent daintily to remove her 
panties. Her breasts were beautifully shaped, with long, hard nipples; 
her stomach was flat and looked strong; her legs had a graceful beauty 
and her ass was dimpled and firm. After this brief examination, I 
reached up and pinched one of her nipples between my thumb and 
forefinger, she moaned and grasped my cock, squeezing it hard. Helen, 
naked except for her garter belt, stockings and shoes, reached out to 
Anne, and feathered her fingers in a lingering caress that moved from 
Anne's neck down to the top, and then underside of her breast. Anne 
shuddered. I sighed, and dropped to my knees to gaze at the pink folds 
of her labia, already glistening with her wet heat.

Helen's sensual red lips closed upon a nipple. I looked up and studied 
her face, unable to fathom any emotion other than pure lust. I broke the 
heavy silence by asking Anne if she'd ever tasted her own juices. She 
said, "No, of course not." I placed my hands around her ass and plunged 
my face into her cunt, licking frantically. My tongue penetrated to its 
full length, withdrawing only enough to flick up to make contact with 
her clit. She began to tremble; God knows what Helen was up too. Using 
my legs as a football lineman might at the snap of the ball, I drove 
forward, face still embedded in her pelvic region, and we both landed on 
the bed. Helen, whose mouth was abruptly torn from Anne's nipple, stood 
in an awkward position - on the brink of falling - regained her balance 
and moved toward the bed. How I took this in I don't know. Peripheral 
vision? Imagination? Clairvoyance? Who cares?

On landing, Anne instantly spread her legs further apart, reaching for 
the top of my head to keep my tongue in contact with her outer lips. 
After a few moments more of cunnilingus, I pushed myself up, and 
grabbing her blonde hair, pulled her face to mine. We kissed. We passed 
fluids back and forth. I ended the kiss abruptly, and growled at her 
"admit it, that's not the first time you've tasted yourself is it?"

What was wrong with me? Here's a great piece of ass, primed and in place 
and I'm argumentative. Actually, I was acting on instinct. Anne wanted 
to be dominated to some extent.

Momentarily distracted by Helen's attentions to her breasts, she 
stammered, "Yes, yes, I have." "When," I demanded. "When I masturbate," 
she quietly murmured. "You lied to me," I said coldly, "now show us how 
you do it, be quick about it."

I sat back on my haunches and put my arm around Helen's waist. Annie 
flushed and nervous, obviously anxious to please and confused at the 
rapid change in tempo, began. Slowly, she drew her fingers over and 
around her clit. Then she placed her index finger inside her cunt, and 
began stroking herself at a rapid pace. Realizing she was already well 
lubricated, Anne inserted a second finger, slowing her rhythm. Moments 
later, Helen and I were amazed as Anne inserted her whole hand inside 
her! This was my first time watching a woman fisting herself.

My cock screamed for release. As Anne continued fisting, I placed 
Helen's leg up on the bed, and entered her standing up. This was for our 
benefit as well as Anne's. We could both watch Anne from this set up. 
Anne began to cum, making a grunting sound I can only describe as" ugh, 
ugh ughhhh". "Lick your juices Anne," I commanded sternly. As she 
complied, Helen and I embraced and kissed.

I broke away and slowly slid down her body, kissing all the way until I 
reached paradise. We moved onto the bed. Anne resumed her assault on my 
cock, gripping it in her hand; she brought the head to her lips, and 
darted her tongue out dragging it across the veiny underside of my cock.

Her hot, wet tongue sent ripples of pleasure through me as she continued 
licking Bubba's entire length. Anne reduced her languid swipes until she 
was dragging my cock over her lips only, and I couldn't keep from 
moaning repeatedly as I neared my climax. Suddenly, she slid her pouty 
lips over me and engulfed me completely. I watched as Bubba went bye-bye 
and disappeared down into her throat only to reappear as she bobbed back 
up. Then back down in, all the way. As I felt myself starting to erupt, 
I let out a long groan, and Anne took this as a sign to pull me 
completely out of her mouth. She rubbed it on her sweat-stained face and 
beaded lips as she said, "Cum on my face James! Cum all ooover my face!"

My entire body stiffened at these words and I shot a load over her cheek 
and across the bridge of her nose, and up onto her forehead, as her 
tongue darted in and out to lick Bubba clean. Before I finished 
ejaculating, Anne wrapped her lips around the head of my cock and sucked 
it like a lollipop, swallowing my last ejaculate. It took me a while to 
calm down from that orgasm, and I lay there, soaking wet, panting, 
otherwise hardly moving; riding out the spasmodic twitches rippling 
through my body - reduced to the role of voyeur.

Helen maneuvered herself into a position from which her face was over 
Annie's pussy and mine was close to hers. Helen slammed her face down 
into Anne's pussy. Just as quickly she withdrew. A violent action. Anne 
cried out, pleading for her to get back there. Helen did, this time ever 
so gently she began licking and sucking Anne's lips. Anne was hot.

She started grunting again, and began twisting her shoulders and 
thrusting her pelvis upward, saying, "Yes! Oh, yes! Oh, God yes! Helen 
seemed to revel in their continuity. This went on until Anne jerked 
upward and fainted. "I'll take care of her, Jim," she said, "go get us 
some toy's. I got up, my legs wavering and made my way to the toy box, 
only to remember I'd scattered them around the apartment earlier. I 
gathered several up and returned to the bed. Anne had indeed been 
revived. I stood at the side of the bed and watched as they moved into a 
natural 69 position.

One of the toys I brought back was Mr. Hard Throb, and looking over the 
scene, decided to insert it into Anne's pussy. I gently tapped Helen's 
nose with Bubba to get her attention and clear a path to my objective. 
It slid in easily, and I established a slow in and out rhythm as Helen 
returned to dine at her pussy. It wasn't long before Anne started to 
come. Helen started to react to Anne's attention, and came shortly 
after.

I'm standing there playing push and shove with Mr. Hard Throb with my 
own throbbing cock in my hand. I decided to put mine to use, and picked 
Anne who was now laying across Helen suckling her breast. Helen's 
unattended nipple was longer than I'd ever seen it before. I leaned over 
and nipped at it. Helen moaned in pleasure. I mounted Anne from behind. 
She was tight, but so lubricated that my first thrust brought me up 
against her cervix. Emulating Mr. Heart Throb, I used slow, deep 
movements. I didn't pump very long before Anne started screaming, "Oh, 
God, I'm coming again. Moments later I found myself fit for oral duty 
only as Helen grabbed me, taking me into her mouth, gasping, "I've got 
to taste you both." And with those lush, vise-like gripping lips and 
relentless tongue working on my cock I came, and came again. Helen 
swallowed some and dribbled some out of the corner of her mouth. I 
continued to cum, Helen started choking on my sperm. Anne meanwhile was 
eating Helen out and Helen picked this moment to begin a series of 
orgasms. I pulled out of Helen's mouth, spewing cum wildly across her 
eyebrows and into her hair, where in dripped down into her ear. Helen 
was a comely sight to behold.

With everybody sated for the moment, we cleaned ourselves up a bit and 
returned to our drinks. Anne started talking rapidly. "I never saw 
anything like you guys the other night. And . . . and, when Helen 
flashed her pussy at me . . . why I thought that was wild . . .. I knew 
it was just for me to see, but then I saw that she had your dick in her 
hand . . . Ooohh, I got so wet!" She hits Helen on the arm saying, "And 
you . . . you knew I was hot . . . and you, James . . . running your 
hand up into my shorts . . . why didn't you finger me then? I wanted it 
so badly. Then this one," Anne lunged forward, grabbing and pulling on 
Helen's still rigid non-ringed nipple, "she tells me to go with her to 
the ladies, so'es she can help me dry myself. I swear I came right then. 
If my boyfriend wasn't gonna pick me up . . . well, otherwise I'd have 
left with you right then. Christ, I'm smoldering again. Look Jim, your 
cum's pouring out of me" "That's your cum baby," I said, putting my arm 
around her, and tenderly kissing her lower lip and then slipping my 
tongue in her mouth. I felt light tremors vibrating throughout her body. 
Oh, did her mouth have an erotic savoryness in its taste. Helen also 
sensed Anne's renewed horniness, and resumed her attack upon Anne. 
Licking, biting and sucking her nipples. One would have to describe 
Anne's aureoles as being huge; (puffies I think you'd call them). Her 
nipples protruded out about half an inch. I moved in to share Anne with 
Helen, taking one breast and attempting to draw it completely into my 
mouth. Of course I failed. But I tried again, only to back off and 
content myself with absorbing her nipple and sucking and chewing the 
miniature erection it had become. Then Helen and I pursued the same 
nipple. I bit and she licked. Our tongues would occasionally lap one 
another. Anne began to keen that now familiar moan which preceded an 
orgasm. Helen now had several fingers up within Anne's pussy. We played 
Anne together, as I gained renewed length to my cock.

I looked on in amazement as Helen worked her entire hand into Anne. How 
could she feel so tight and yet retain such elasticity? It was another 
miracle of womanhood. Anne started to come again. Helen removed her hand 
and barked an order at me: "Fuck her now, James." I was ready. Helen 
positioned herself under Anne and began licking from her pussy to her 
asshole, even as I penetrated her pussy using the missionary position. 
Anne placed her legs upon my shoulders . . . I surged even deeper into 
her hole. I assumed we were in a different position than missionary. 
"Kama Sutra, where the hell are you when I need you?" Well, I wasn't 
going to start reading at this point, but you get my drift. 




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| Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>