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Subject: NEW: Helen & I  Chapters 11-12  MFF, MF
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Helen & I


By Paris Waterman


©Paris Waterman 1998

 

CHAPTER 11

I glanced at the mirrors located around the room and obtained an angle 
providing a great view to watch Helen as she began to tongue Anne's ass. 
They call it a rim job. Similar to a blow job, but the other side. Helen 
and I had begun riming each other since my introduction to the beads.

With both hands Helen separated the plump ass cheeks and licked the rosy 
starfish-like entry. Then she uncovered the little hole, which she 
dampened with a lubricant, before placing against it her tongue, now 
stiff as a penis, and tried to drive it in. Anne trembled with pleasure 
at this exciting caress, but her anus had contracted from my steady 
fucking of her other hole, and refused to let Helen's tongue gain entry. 
I withdrew - to rest and to observe the two wanton beauties at work. 
Helen reversed position, moving her buttocks forward and sat hard on 
Anne's face, and Anne realized that she was being asked for the same 
caress. Separating Helen's larger cheeks, she exposed Helen's rosette, 
and finding it somewhat enlarged she placed the tip of her tongue on the 
round hole, felt it open, and her tongue was drawn in by Helen's 
muscular contractions. I watched in fascination as several inches of 
Anne's tongue disappeared between the burning walls of Helen's rectum, 
while Helen purred with delight as she returned the favor at the other, 
now relaxed end. Moments later, Anne groaned slightly, for Helen had 
changed her attack. After sucking her index finger, she drove it slowly 
into her anus. My erection throbbed, for I knew that one's sphincter 
muscles have nerve ends which are exquisitely sensitive to the touch of 
a finger or a tongue; and inserting a well-lubricated finger deeply in 
and moving it around in slow circles while you either tongue or finger 
the clit can drive a woman sexually insane.

Inspired by this penetration, Anne revenged herself by nibbling on 
Helen's clit. Helen drove a second finger into Anne's dilated asshole. 
This time Anne cried out, for it hurt. Was she still a virgin on that 
side? Helen ceased her fingering and returned to the dribbling cunt. 
Soon, in a crescendo of moans and heavy breathing, the two women rolled 
over on each other, quivering with delight and copiously wetting each 
other's face.

I found myself caught up in a sexual fugue, in which I managed to screw 
away first using Helen's cunt, then Anne's without coming for the 
longest time. As I began to feel like I could do this forever, Anne, 
nearing exhaustion from the frantic fucking, started to gush a clear 
liquid from her pussy, it was overflowing with every stoke I drove in. 
Not to be left out, Helen who was lapping up the overflowing juices had 
now inserted Shorty, the vibrator up Anne's ass. As Helen applied the 
vibrator to Anne, she began licking my balls. Anne exploded in another 
series of grunts as she climaxed. I pulled out an entered Helen doggy 
style. Anne, covered in a mixture of sweat, love juice and lubricant, 
rose to her knees, and with a copious amount of fluid draining from her 
cunt and down her legs, placed Mr. Hard Throb in Helen's mouth and then 
her own. Helen must have come without my noticing, because she moved 
away severing my penetration, and told me to fuck Anne's ass next.

Anne liked the idea. "I can take it all," she grinned. She needed no 
primer on that hole thanks to Helen's prior ministrations. I took aim 
and hit the target. Oh, God, what a wonderful fit! I thanked Shorty 
profusely for opening up the backdoor. Helen was busy applying Mr. Hard 
Throb to Anne's pussy. I could feel it, as I pounded deeper into her 
ass. I was all the way in, it was unbelievable, and I hit bottom! Annie 
bucked, shook and snorted as she gulped for the oxygen necessary to 
maintain her fucking activity.

Somewhere in the background, Helen had a recording the 1812 Overture 
playing out its final moments. The bells were ringing and the fusillade 
of cannons exploded.

What exquisite timing!

Anne exploded.

I exploded.

It was fireworks the likes of which I'd never seen before. It was 
glorious; it was painfully glorious; there wasn't many fireworks 
ejaculated on my part, but the feeling was magnificent and long lasting. 
I collapsed and rolled over on my back. Anne was frozen in position, ass 
up, face down on the golden colored pillow, hands clenching the gold and 
black sheets.

Helen finished putting on a strap-on dildo, and walked across the room 
to replace me in fucking Anne's ass - now a wide, gaping hole - with 
shit speckled semen drooling down her thigh. Pumping like a rabbit, 
Helen's breathing became quicker, and raspy, as she called upon energies 
that severely tested her heart and lung capacities. Anne began screaming 
she was coming. I had heard this before, and needed a rest, so I got up 
from the bed and sat hunched over on a love-seat across the room, 
watching as Helen, momentarily depleted, staggered off the bed, and wove 
her way toward the toy box. She reached in, picked up another toy, 
turned took two steps, and stumbled forward managing to collapse on the 
bed next to Anne.

Moments later, apparently renewed, Helen held a humming vibrator inside 
her as she began kissing and caressing Anne. These toys sure were 
useful. I returned to the war-zone handing Anne the Eager Beaver for her 
own use. (That's the one with the second section that has a snout to 
diddle the clit.) The girls continued kissing and pinching each other's 
nipples while screwing themselves with the vibrators. I joined in again, 
playing with Helen's ringed nipple. She liked it when I squeezed it and 
pulled on it. Then I shifted to Anne's memorable puffy nipples.

Time passed. The Bolero played to its conclusion a second time. It was 
silent, except for the panting of some tired fuckers. Then, magically, I 
was ready again. I stood up and announced, "Ladies, ladies, this is 
Gentleman Jim's last call." The girls giggled. "Then fuck Anne, nice and 
slow," said Helen. I wiped Anne's asscheeks off with a washcloth, and 
entered her from the rear; with her ass raised and her head resting on a 
pillow, (didn't I just do this?) and began series of slow, easy strokes 
into a pussy that had loosened considerably during the evening.

"Anne eat me! Eat my ass!" Helen cried out, sliding her ass onto Anne's 
pillow, and spreading her legs as her cunt reached Anne's face. Anne 
quickly complied, burrowing her face between Helen's slick sheen-covered 
cheeks. She began using that fantastic tongue of hers in ways that 
defied description. Anne was closing in on yet another orgasm. As it 
overpowered her, she pounded her face into Helen's ass as though trying 
to obliterate her facial features. Helen cried out in pleasure, I 
suddenly found myself fucking thin air as Anne rolled away from Helen 
and I, gasping desperately for air. "Helen," I said, straddling Helen's 
face, "lick my ass and balls." She laughed at me, but just as quickly 
began tonguing me there. Oh, that felt good! I really had nothing left 
but a hard-on that wouldn't quit. I turned Helen over and screwed her 
ass for a while, and finally finished my evening by coming in a somewhat 
revived Anne's mouth.

I showered, dressed and said good night to the girls. They were sorting 
through the toys, looking for new thrills. I know I left some things 
out, but there was too, too, much to recall.

 

 

Chapter 12 - The Day After the Night Before

The next afternoon I awoke to the strident tone of my doorbell. I had 
been dreaming the dreams of the fully satiated, i.e.; my R.E.M.'s were 
devoted to pure fornication. (How do I describe pure fornication? Hey, 
dream your own dreams. I'm busy lying my ass off here tryin' to get 
everybody strokin' in 1 - 2 time.)

Noting the room was filled with an abundance of daylight and that I was 
still exhausted (do you burn calories up having wet dreams? Anybody out 
there into this dream stuff feel free to email me with the facts.) I 
risked opening my eyes a little wider and glancing at my watch, heard 
myself muttering, "God, it's 1:30," I hobbled out of bed, reached for my 
terry-cloth robe and headed for the door.

Waiting patiently for me on the other side in the brilliant sunshine was 
Helen. She looked, ummmm, dare I say it? Yeah . . . she looked good 
enough to eat. (I made a mental note to try thinking about other things, 
and perhaps I will ¾ later.) I was hungry, but confused as to whether I 
craved food or sex. I gazed hungrily at Helen as she stood there. (I 
think I knew which appetite was in control of my libido).

"Good day to you kind sir. I've lost my way, could you possibly allow me 
to rest my weary bones inside?" I wrenched my eyes away from those 
emerald eyes of hers and took a closer look at those weary bones. She 
was wearing a blackberry stretch velvet polo, whose spandex material 
caused it to cling to her body like a second skin. And as my weary eyes 
regained their focusing abilities, I glanced further down and took in 
the black leather pants, also tight in all the right places; I recall 
seeing boots too, only because I envisioned difficulty in getting them 
off. In short, Helen was a vision. She was a sexual vision. A veritable 
cosmetic marvel considering last night's activities.

Bubba, my weary-bone-jumping friend was already randy, gassed up and 
raring to go. Oh well, several hours had passed since he was last 
wide-awake. Helen glanced down smiled at Bubba and said, "Hello my 
phallic fuckin' friend." "Come on in", I said, feeling somewhat like the 
spider talking to Little Miss Muffet. (Little did I know what designs 
Helen had on me. I should have, she was already talking dirty to me.)

Moving quickly into my great room, Helen surveyed the place, nodded with 
satisfaction that I had managed to keep it moderately clean, (I hadn't 
spent much time there lately) and said: "I'm still SO hot from last 
night. It was fabulous wasn't it? Anne left about an hour ago. We had 
one last round in the shower before that though. Oh, lover, I'm still 
tingling." Sucking in her breath, Helen raised her hands to her chest 
and slowly began caressing her breasts. The nipples jumped up like burnt 
toast from a toaster. I bet myself they were hotter than toast right 
now. My military training kicked in and I remembered to breathe again.

Helen started squeezing her right nipple with her left hand - rolling it 
between her thumb and forefinger - while her right hand slowly unzipped 
those tight leather pants enough to permit its passage to an area 
suspiciously near her groin. Pure lust was reflected in her hooded green 
eyes. She started licking her lips. God, it was stimulating just 
standing there watching her. I hadn't realized her tongue was that long.

I was frozen in place, my jaw open, like an idiot. I kept breathing 
though, albeit at a faster clip. Finally, I managed to blurt out "Good 
morning to you too."

Apparently that did not register with Helen. She may have been thinking 
along other lines, because she asked: "Whatcha got on under the robe 
mister?" I put my stupor behind me (but it still stuck out quite a bit) 
and stammered "You, you know damn well what's under me kilts," I 
replied, "a tired, gnarled, shrived up little prick." Helen sank to her 
knees and leaving her nipples to fend for themselves, reached inside my 
robe. Bubba was in there salivating, very anxious to greet her.

"Ummmm," she said, "He doesn't look tired, or shriveled at all. In fact, 
he looks . . . " and Helen's lips closed down upon ole Bubba - and a 
most satisfied sound emenated from her clogged larynx. "Ummmm, slurp, 
umphh, ughh, tcchhh, slurp, ummmmmm! Her right hand began moving faster 
inside those black leather pants.

Trying to be as helpful as possible I critiqued Helen. "You shouldn't 
talk with your mouth full, didn't your mother ever teach you anything?" 
My legs were about to betray me. "I need to sit down," I croaked feebly, 
and took a step to my left. With a soft pop, Bubba left Helen's mouth; I 
located the easy chair and plopped down. Helen, still on her knees, 
shuffled after me. "Have you eaten yet?" she asked. A pensive, "Noooo," 
was all I could manage. "Ummmmm," Helen murmured demurely, taking Bubba 
back into her mouth as if he were the most delicious morsel at a buffet. 
Two languid sucks and Bubba went from a semi-state of limpidness to a 
fully engorged, All-American rock hard cock.

Helen, apparently satisfied with this transformation, resumed gently 
licking Bubba's underside (it was my best side too). "I'll mmifff norr 
brrfffst nin minute," was what I thought she said as Bubba plunged down 
her throat. (I want the reader to understand that I did contribute to 
the dialogue in this scene; I just had to wait for my turn. Surely you 
understand my character in this little play was virtually speechless - 
that is, until - ahhhh! Finally, I received my cue and spoke my opening 
lines like the pro that I am.)

"Yes baby . . .. Keep doing that . . .. Just like that . . .. Yessssss, 
ohhhhh, suck harder baby, faster, faster . . ." I crooned to into her 
ear. Slowly I eased her leather pants down past her calves. I crammed my 
hand into one leg of her panties. Helen was now slowly stoking her clit. 
I volunteered two fingers and her copiously wet, fevered snatch absorbed 
them so easily, I sent another two into the mysterious folds of her 
cunt. Helen reacted to my attentions by once again allowing Bubba to see 
daylight through his pre-com-clogged eye. It was a bleary world he saw 
as lost his balance, flipping and flopping; wavering a bit to the left, 
seeking the warm, wet refuge he had lost moments ago. Helen yanked her 
panties down and gave me much needed instructions. (Damn it! I'd left my 
manual at Helen's.)

 

"There . . .! Yes! Oh, there . . ! Baby . . . Do that! Oh fuck! Honey, 
just a little faster, ummmmmmm. Yeah!" Gyrating her pelvic region like a 
washing machine gone mad; her fingers squeezing her breasts, then 
pinching her nipples, she moaned deliriously, completely enthralled in 
sex crazed lust. Bubba was forgotten for the moment - Helen decided to 
help her cause even more by issuing further instructions to me.

"No, Baby, don't stop! Ohhhh! Yes, yes . . . Yes! Fuck me, honey . . . 
fuck your honey. Well, what virile young man wouldn't respond to a 
damsel in distress? When Helen needs me, I'm there for her. And they're 
too. As quickly as I could I removed my fingers and inserted Bubba.

Yeah! Yeah! There . . . Oh, like that! Yesss! Lover, just do that - 
Uuunngghhhhh! I'm gonna cum! Oh, fuck, I'm almost there, oh lover slam 
it to me! Gimme cock! Gimme cock! Fuck it to me! Now, now! For fuck's 
sake!"

"Ohhhhh", Helen cried out as Bubba slid down the chute of love, "I'm 
cuming, I'm cuming! I'm there! Ohhhh! I'm there lover! I'm there! ... 
uuunghhhh ....! Unghh! Oh, sweetheart! Drive it home! Yessss! Ahhhhhh! 
Ahhhhhh! Sooo deep!"

Suddenly, using that timeless woman's prerogative, Helen switched gears, 
momentarily confusing the hell out of me. "No! No! No! I want your cock 
in my mouth! In my mouth! Cum in my mouth Lover!"

Being a compliant guy, I shifted position, Helen scooped Bubba up to her 
lips and promptly devoured him. Now all those years of method acting 
lessons paid off. I recited my lines flawlessly, just like Brando would 
have. "Ohhhhh, suck me harder baby, faster, faster . . ." I whispered to 
her. I felt the sperm train roaring into the station." "Mmmmmmffffff, 
umphhh, ummmmmm!"

I guess that was Helen calling out the station, upstaging me again. 
(She's turned out to be a shameless ad-libber, never follows the 
script.) Helen made a gurgling, swallowing sound, followed by the 
appearance (from stage left) of a now useless Bubba. This time he was 
shriveled and gnarled.

I received a sensual smile from Helen, who opened her mouth to speak, 
allowing some of my cum to trickle out the side of her mouth. "Kith me 
do fool," she lisped. Laughing, I followed orders and tasted myself as 
Helen politely deposited a good portion of Bubba's kickapoo joy juice in 
my mouth. I'd known I'd be eating soon, but could have sworn it would be 
animal, vegetable, or even Helen - I never thought it would be me.

"Ummmmmmm, savory a bit tart, definitely a good vintage a '54 perhaps?" 
We lay there on the floor looking at each other and panting heavily. Her 
hair was disheveled, her swollen lips parted, and I watched as her 
tongue darted quickly to lick a trace of sperm from her upper lip. 
Taking her in my arms, I kissed her lovingly, with all the tenderness I 
could manage. "I love you Helen." "Ummmm, me too," she responded. My 
hand began to casually rove down her body and discovered her nipples 
still incredibly erect. I lightly caressed them. Helen, still fully 
immersed in the after glow of her orgasm, purred contentedly. One hand 
lay on her stomach not far removed from the auburn patch just above her 
pubis; the other gently grazed my face. My eyes traversed her marvelous 
body. Hers were closed. I smiled as I watched her hips twitch 
spasmodically. Yes I thought smugly to myself, that's the gift that 
keeps on cuming.

"Am I responsible for this?" she asked demurely, her eyes now wide open 
in feigned wonderment indicating a flaccid Bubba held loosely in the 
palm of her hand. "Does a bear shit in the woods?" I think my stomach 
said that. "Ughh! Men!" Helen grunted as she attempted to rise up. I 
held her back. "Let go, I'm gonna make you something to eat." Well in 
that case, feel free to rise my queen, my beauty, my most bounteous 
breasted . . . boy you've got great hooters . . . have I ever told you . 
. ."

Helen, now standing bent over me, the objects of my praise dangled 
temptingly in front of my face. "One lick lover, then I'm gone." Helen 
sighed, and still leaning over my head, held her breasts so they were 
compressed together. I moved toward the hanging strawberries, taking one 
in my mouth. It was delicious. Slowly, Helen removed it. My puckered 
lips made a sad sucking sound. I pouted. Helen's generosity forgotten. 
"Sorry James, I really have to pee. Then I'll fix us some breakfast or 
lunch . . . I need something more sustaining than another orgasm right 
now. But we can get back to fooling around later if you like. We've got 
all day and all night too if we work it right."

That said she walked away, taking her ass and wet pussy with her. I 
called after her. "Okay, be sure to wash your hands, I wouldn't want to 
catch your germs. . . ." The door didn't exactly slam behind her, but it 
sure closed quickly. A minute or so later I heard the toilet flush and 
water running, then the shower. I remained where I was, too tired to 
move. Moments later, Helen emerged wearing one of my old robes, still 
drying her hands she walked over to the kitchen counter and sat down. 
Leaning her elbow on the counter she looked at the refrigerator and 
asked," Anything edible inside that thing?" "Sure I said smiling 
broadly, I went shopping yesterday just before A, Y & M f'd." A 
quizzical look crossed Helen's face. (Have I told you what a lovely face 
it is? Ahhh! Yes it 'tis, a fine face indeed!)

"A, Y & M?" "Yeah," I countered gleefully, "Anne, you and me fucking." 
"Get out of here," she yelped and hit me with a roll of paper towels she 
heaved at me. I was getting up anyway and said, "Make yourself 
comfortable Hon, I'm gonna take a shower." Okay, I'll scrounge something 
up from your fridge, we'll have breakfast when you finish. Twenty 
minutes later, I strode triumphantly into the kitchen wearing my robe 
over a pair of clean jockeys. The smell of coffee and cinnamon wafted 
through the air.

"Are you sure you're thoroughly cleansed?" Helen ventured.

"Ahhh, yes," I said giving my best W. C. Fields impersonation. "The 
great philosophical question: Clean mind, clean body - take your pick."

"Sit down you fool," she giggled.

I did. It was a round table and we sat opposite one another at first, 
but I moved closer to Helen and she seemed to blush at my action. What 
could she be embarrassed about, I wondered.

Helen had set a buffet of sorts for us. A large bowl was filled with 
sliced strawberries, bananas and cantaloupe. Another bowl was filled 
with granola. Helen finished pouring out my orange juice and coffee. 
Famished, I began eating in earnest. Helen devoured her food even faster 
then I. Either she knew her body's metabolism extremely well, or no 
longer had any regard for her figure. Then it occurred to me that hell, 
we'd burnt a few calories, quite a few calories, last night. And so, 
swallowing my fourth piece of toast, I refilled both coffee cups, took a 
sip from mine and brought up the events of last night.

"Luv, last night . . ."

"Oh, don't remind me," Helen said interrupting me.

I moved my chair a little closer to her. "You left and we kept going, 
like the rabbit in the battery commercial . . . "

"Oh, you two were going like rabbits alright."

"Well you certainly handled yourself like a pro . . ."

"Correction, I didn't handle myself at all, you two did it for me."

"Well . . .. We aimed to please."

"And you both hit the target each and every time."

I was enjoying this inane bantering, it was almost as good as guy, guy 
bull shit. Meanwhile, I continued to move my chair little by little, and 
soon closed the distance between us. Indeed, the two chairs touched, as 
did our thighs. We both sighed and broke out laughing. "You pervert,"

Helen laughed.

"Pervert? Me? I stared into her emerald eyes. She immediately looked 
down. I reached out with my hand, cupped her chin and pulled it close to 
me. Then I kissed her. Helen broke the kiss off, murmuring, "mmmmffffff, 
Mr. Bubba sir, I shall scream!"

Twirling an imaginary moustache, I retorted, "I certainly hope you do 
Miss Helen, then and only then shall I be certain I have pleasured you, 
but in the meantime, you've got your anatomy craving mixed."

"You cad!" Her hands were rising up to her breasts again. (Is that 
movement some kind of sexual barometer? (Come on reader, help me out 
here. The_panda@hotmail.com)

"Hey!" I continued, "you see these strawberries?"

"Of course I see the strawberries. What about them?"

"I have a distinct memory of you and your lush red lips sucking on 
Anne's marvelous nipple."

"Ohhh," Helen said, swallowing audibly and clenching her left breast.

"Oh is right," I kept on, taking in the flushed countenance rapidly

spreading across her face. "Do you remember when she put her whole hand 
inside her pussy?" I was almost rambling now, wanting to see where this 
lead. "My God, Helen that almost set me off."

Helen's hands were now under the table. She had begun frigging herself 
at a leisurely pace. In an almost inaudible undertone, she murmured, "I 
did cum, it was incredible."

Trying not to break the delicate mood, but anxious to see more of what 
was happening below the table, I continued. "She was so hot. Do you 
remember when she fainted?"

"Ummmm," she answered, eyes closed; her hand - now visible to me, her 
movements having parted the robe completely exposing her thighs - fully 
immersed inside her panties pistoning in and out at a faster pace. She 
was obviously reliving some moments of last night.

"Yes! Oh, yes! Oh, God yes!" She panted. Her nostrils were flared - her 
chest was now heaving. The odor of her sex was filling the air. Helen's 
fingers were loudly squishing in her cunt. A creamy froth of tiny white 
bubbles was oozing out of her cunt and mixing with the damp, reddish mat 
of hair surrounding it. "Help me with this James," she whimpered, 
"Please!" (And now, kind reader, picture me once again twisting my 
imaginary moustache before rendering a reply.)

"Of course my dear, I wouldn't be left out of this for anything," this 
said with a touch of sarcasm, since I wasn't responsible for this 
particular case of the hots. That honor belonged to Anne. That said, I 
rose from the chair, reached for the fruit bowl and knelt in front of 
Helen's widely spread thighs. She was plunging four fingers into her 
cunt, which was a frothy white with her juices. I was not exactly 
impervious to Helen's situation, in fact I was rarin' to go again. 
Deciding we were not in the best location for this activity, I placed my 
arms under her thighs began to lift her up. Ugtt, ohhh! Dead weight, 
back don't fail me now!

"Hold on to me Helen," I said, my cheeks nestled against her sopping wet 
hole. "We're going to use the living room chair." Helen complied and I 
half carried - half staggered into the next room and gingerly lowered 
her into the chair. Hurrying, I placed her legs, one on each of the 
chair's arms. Helen's robe now hung loosely over one shoulder. Her cunt 
gaped at me. I had never seen it quite like this, so open, so inviting. 
I wasn't quite finished with my preparations. I went back to the 
kitchen, shedding my robe and jockeys enroute and retrieved the fruit 
bowl and a couple towels and returned to the living room where I once 
again knelt at the altar of love.

I removed Helen's fingers from their gushy nest and licked them clean. 
Helen keened. I moved forward, stuck out my tongue and started licking, 
Helen moaned in pleasure. Reaching into the bowl at my feet I extracted 
several strawberries.

"Huh? Wha?" gasped Helen, seemingly in a stupor.

"I'm still hungry love," I replied, shushing her with a kiss and 
inserting them into her cunt, thereby forcing moisture to seep out. I 
gently lapped it up.

"Ohhhhhhh, whatever . . ." she murmured confused by my actions.

"Ummmmmm," she sighed.

"Play with your titties baby," I offered. She promptly squeezed one 
breast and rubbed the other nipple. (For those of you keeping notes, 
this would be the ringless nipple.)

My tongue pushed the berries deep into her pussy. Helen's hands left her 
breasts and found my head, pushing my face tighter into her cunt. One 
nostril was clogged with what I believe was her clit. My tongue never 
stopped moving. I was crazy to taste her, my tongue was whipping and 
dancing, up and down, in and out. I paused for a second to catch my 
breath; swallowed the strawberries and then began to suck at her 
clitoris.

"Naugh, naugh, naugh," Helen mewed.

Three of my fingers entered her cunt and begin to wiggle and thrust. 
Then, I trapped Helen's clit between my lips and began to rapidly stroke 
my tongue back and forth across it. This action sent a jolt of 
electrical current surging through to Helen's very core. She bit the 
back of her hand to keep from screaming. Both our bodies were covered 
with a sheen of perspiration. Suddenly, a clear fluid spurted from her 
cunt into my mouth, I gagged and almost choked, then against my will I 
did what 95% of American women don't want to do either I swallowed it.

Helen was now whimpering, pleading with me to stop, but I was more 
familiar with her now. Instead of ending my cunnilingus rendering, I 
permitted her to relax for a minute, shifting my mouth's attack to 
another area of her thigh. I nibbled there until another tactic occurred 
to me. Wetting the thumb of my free hand I worked it up into her 
asshole. It moved in easily enough. Helen was totally limp at this 
point, save an occasional spasmodic shudder. Then I started a circling 
movement with the thumb.

Glancing down, I noticed Bubba was fully erect and throbbing wildly. I 
returned my concentration to eating Helen's pussy. It was mushy, warm 
and ready. She was already starting to cum as my tongue wormed it's way 
back into her cunt.

"Ohhh, God! "Ohhh, God! "Ohhh, God! "Ohhhhhhh, God Almighty! I'm cuming, 
I'm cuming! Ahhhhhhhhh! Uuughhhhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhh!" (No dear reader, that 
wasn't someone knockin' at the door, that was Helen singing the lyrics 
to the "I'm cuming polka.")

It must have been an extremely intense orgasm because it felt as if it 
slammed into her like a freight train. One moment she was a dishrag, the 
next her hips flew off the chair hunching wildly at my face, dislodging 
it from her cunt in a very unladylike manner. Caught off guard, I 
chanced to look up. Her hands were busy. The one on the back of my head 
was slapping me; the other at her mouth was fluttering almost uselessly. 
Helen's eyes were rolled back - all I could see were the whites - in 
that all to brief moment afforded me to gape. I was enthralled by the 
power of this orgasm. Her heart was palpitating wildly; she was gasping, 
straining to catch her breath. Now both hands clasped my head, forcing 
my face into back onto her cunt. I kept on lickin'. (It's the Timex in 
me.)

As the throes of her orgasmic release began to wane, (Whew, that's 
prose? Noooo! Let's edit a bit.) Her orgasm began to subside. (Ahhh, 
that's better.) Helen suddenly regained her voice. "Yesss! Ohhhh, lover. 
Ohhhhh, yes. Ummmmmmmm ....ohhhh. you're so sweet."

I rested, laying there, huffing and puffing; taking a moment to wipe the 
sweat from my eyes and the cum juices from my mouth. Helen's hands were 
caressing my scrotum; she licked the head of my cock.

"Ooooooo!" I saw sparks!

"Ummmmm, my lover boy, what's the matter pussy got your tongue?" What 
had we here? Had she shaken off her languid mood? Not quite. She was 
still charged up from her last orgasm.

"Yummmmm, yummmm, you taste like a real man, honey." I restrained myself 
from asking what a fake man tasted like; I didn't want to hear about her 
fellating a vibrator or dildo. No, this was great stroking for my ego. 
Especially with the colossal hardon I was sporting.

Moving into the familiar '69' position, I continued with my 
ministrations to her tender pussy. Lick, lick. Suck, suck. Kiss, kiss. 
Almost like dancing the waltz. I was creating a new category for the 
"Battered Woman" syndrome. In this case it was the lip-battered pussy.

(Authors Note: I never hit a woman. Well, maybe a hearty smack on the 
ass; but that's with a willing wench. Never would I raise a hand in 
anger towards a woman.)

Helen halted in her attention to Bubba. Turning my head, I peeked back 
to check her out; her face was flushed - one hand was back over her 
mouth, the other covered her eyes shutting out the harsh afternoon 
light. A single tear of sweat was meandering its way down the valley 
between her breasts. She moved her hand from her mouth to her ringed 
nipple and pinched it, eliciting a soft moan. A gentle spasm rolled 
upwards from her center across her stomach.

"Was it good for you Baby?" I inquired shamelessly, as I gazed now upon 
her lovely face.

"Ummmmmmmaaaagghhh! You fuuuuckin' know it!" was her lethargic retort.

"Would you like me to rim your ass Honey? Cause I wanna stick it in 
there. I'm awful hard and I think your little pussy might be a bit 
tender right now."

Dreamlike she responded, "Ummmmmm, 'kay. Like last night Hon?"

"Better Baby."

"Ummmmmmm, go for it," the lightest of whispers.

I decided to activate plan B before Helen dozed off.

Her hand grazed across my back in a tender caress. Dipping two fingers 
into her squishy cunt, I began lubricating the rosette guarding her anal 
canal. Helen's knees were weaving back and forth, so I took hold of 
them, interrupting their progress. Placing her legs on my shoulders 
caused Helen to slide towards me, affording me a better target of her 
hole. Leaning forward, my tongue commenced its initial foray into the 
black hole of Calcutta. (Okay, Okay. It's either rosy, pink or brown. 
Hey, gimme some literary license here, willya?)

Helen slouched quietly in a kind of mild, hazy attentiveness; the 
excessiveness of her orgasm must have left her weary in exhilarated 
fulfillment. As the sensations quieted, she twitched sporadically and 
she gently caressed her nipples, pulling on the ring occasionally and 
tweaking the other, trying to extract the utmost from her satisfaction. 
Tears of joy filled my eyes as I watched contentedly as an another 
series of tremors enveloped her. Helen grunted, "Ungh, Unghh," totally 
satisfied. Good, that was my signal to begin another assault. But before 
I did, Helen surprised me by speaking of Anne.

In a soft monotone, Helen asked: "Do you recall what Anne said last 
night. I mean about when we first met her at the restaurant? How I 
suggested she come with me to the ladies room so I could help her dry 
her pussy? How she came at that very suggestion?"

I halted my tongue's probing long enough to tell her I certainly 
recalled that Kodak moment among several others and then resumed a 
languid, soft kissing of her anus.

"Well," Helen continued, "when we got to the ladies room it was empty. 
We soul-kissed and started dry-humping each other. I couldn't wait any 
longer and told her to sit on the counter and spread her legs. . ."

Helen noticed what I was up to and casually remarked: "Ohhhh, that's 
nice lover, feels soooo good, please don't stop." And then she continued 
with her monologue.

"She did, hoisting up her skirt to her hips as she complied. I pulled 
her panties to one side and tongued the shit out of her. She came so 
quickly I couldn't believe it. Anne wasn't kidding when she said she was 
hot. I tugged her off the counter and led her into a cubicle. I sat down 
on the toilet and she knelt down and ate me out. I was cuming when my 
ass hit the seat. She brought me off three times before we heard someone 
else enter the room. Whoever it was paid no attention to us. Of course 
we stopped what we were doing. When she left, we straightened ourselves 
out and returned to your table. I have to confess to you, I wanted her 
so much . . .. "

She began to cry. "I was a bad girl." Helen curled up into a fetus-like 
position. I tried to console her. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. 
Helen began to sob. Most guys feel utterly useless at times like these. 
We can't really do anything but hold the woman and say something inane 
like, "there, there, it'll be alright." The funny thing is that's the 
right thing to do and say. It's the offer of comfort, or in this 
instance the forgiveness I bestowed that she had feared I wouldn't 
grant.

"You don't understand," she sobbed, " I turned you away that night 
because I was bringing Anne over. I wanted her for myself." Now her nose 
was running too. I dabbed it with the sleeve of my robe. I had suspected 
as much, but really didn't care, especially since both girls had shared 
so much with me last night. I mean I'm all for a little indiscretion as 
long as it is really indiscreet. Now that it was out in the open, I told 
Helen emphatically that I'd guessed that to be the case and that I 
forgave her and Anne too. I didn't believe in keeping score in these 
matters, but expected to wander astray on occasion myself.

"Oh! Oh! Oh . . . .Of course you can. I. I never meant to restrict you 
Honey."

"Hey! Honey," coming right back at her, "I'm basically a one-woman guy. 
And you're that woman. But, every once in a while I'll be tempted. You 
know variety for the sake of it, no attachment . . .." My voice croaked.

Was I really saying this? Was I going to get away with it? Not quite it 
appeared. Wiping away the last of her tears Helen sniffed, "And . . . on 
those occasions when I get an itch you won't mind if I let someone else 
scratch it for me either, will ya lover?"

There was just a touch of venom in this last. I decided right then that 
Robert Rouak was wrong in his 1960's hypothesis that women are driven 
blindly by their cunts, not their minds or other hungers. Everyone is 
manipulated to some degree by their sexual drives, but factors like 
greed, envy, or love and human kindness are primary motivators as often 
as one's sexual appetite. For the record, I know that men are guided by 
their pricks into some very interesting and often embarrassing 
situations. Guided being the operational word here.

(Panel discussion readers? "Okay. . . . You Sir, in the third row, 
wearing the plaid shirt."

"Oh? Who the hell is Robert Rouak?" "Look it up!"

"Yes . . . the lady with the leather mask. No! No! Not you in the Donald 
Duck mask . . . the leather mask. Yes, Yes madam?"

"What's a hypothesis? It's an extra gland at the end of a horse's dick!"

"Where did this crowd come from?" "I'll try one more." "The gentleman 
with the top hat on. Is that a beaver hat? It is? Where the hell did you 
come by it? Never mind . . . your question Sir?"

"Can you eat and fuck at the same time? We just covered that with the 
strawberries, damnit! Well, maybe we didn't cover it fully. I. . . I. . 
. .

[INSERT sound of gavel striking wooded block.] "This discussion is 
over!")

Okay, okay, whose line is it anyway? Oh, . . mine? Well, then. . . .

"Of course, lover," I replied, almost glumly. (Hey! I never said it was 
a fair world. I considered myself bested in this encounter.)

"Good! Now my ass is ready for that rim job you promised. (Evidently, 
Helen thought she'd won the encounter as well.) With that, she turned 
around in the chair so that she now faced away from me and wriggled her 
ass in my face.

Still on my knees, I slapped each cheek twice- turning them the color of 
coral. Gripping them firmly, I applied extra pressure as I separated 
them and bent forward to tickle her rim with my tongue. Immediately, 
Helen started to moan and writhe. After a minute or so of this 
titillating, her little bunghole loosened up sufficiently to permit my 
tongue some access.

"Ohhh, James, that's nice. That's soooo nice."

I detected a shiver or series of tremors as I tweaked a nipple. Time for 
a change in tactics. I rammed my thumb into her ass. It went in easily. 
This was rapidly followed by my pushing two fingers of my right hand 
into her cunt. Oomph! (Okay, folks . . . it's time to play Bowling for 
Dollars again!)

"Play with yourself Helen, I commanded. "Rub that clit of yours! Make it 
pop Baby!"

Her fingers were working faster than a harpist's before I finished 
speaking.

I worked my fingers (and thumb) too. Using this grip, I lifted her 
several inches off the chair. Helen moaned and whimpered, as I swung her 
side-to-side and then pulled my fingers out then pushed them back before 
twisting first to the left and then right. As though on schedule, 
Helen's orgasm arrived. She glanced back at me even as it struck full 
force.

"Uuunnnnnghhh! Nuhhhh! Oh shit! Ohhhhh shhhhitttt! Ohhhhhhh yes - you 
know what to do to me - Ohhh . . . you bastard! Fuck your baby? ohhhhh! 
Fuck your baby good while she plays with "Uuunghh... uuunghh.... uuuungh 
- ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I shot load after load into that backdoor corridor of hers. Taking a few 
seconds to catch my breath, I pulled out, watching a glob of cum drop to 
the floor.

"Whew? very nice Lover. Very nice indeed." She picked up my limp cock 
with two fingers, noting the brown streaks Bubba now sported. "Let's get 
cleaned up -maybe catch a movie or something." And holding her hand 
tight against her ass, Helen meandered into the shower. What could I 
say, I rose from my knees and followed.

It was an action film.

 To be continued. 

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