Andrew had had a feeling all day that he was in for a treat once they got home from the opera. Things did always get wild when they all had a night on the town together, after all. But he didn't realize how wild it was going to be until halfway through the final act. Of course Ariana knew that would be just enough time for Andrew to get nervous about what she and the others had in store for him, and of course she made no effort to hide the way she fingered the tiny padlock on her charm bracelet as she glanced across him to Diane on his left. Nor did Diane try to avoid letting Andrew see the brief nod and smile with which she replied to Ariana. As none of the three took their eyes entirely off the soprano holding the hall rapt with her solo three balconies below, Andrew could only guess if Margaret and Tara, who were flanking their friends on the left and right of their row, were aware.
It mattered little, for Andrew knew Diane would whisper the plan to Margaret and Ariana to Tara as soon as the curtain fell and they stood up to applaud. He didn't look either way to confirm it, for he was already pleasantly concerned that his pants would betray his anticipation. Tuxedos always had so little give in that regard, and the others rarely missed a chance to inspire such a predicament! No need to show that off to any of the women; they would all be very much aware of it soon enough.
Margaret was the first to acknowledge her awareness, for she took Andrew's arm in hers as they filed down the stairs a few minutes later. "I see somebody loves the opera!" she cooed in his ear, just before planting a quick kiss on it. "Or are you still on a high from watching us all get dolled up this afternoon?"
"Well, both of course," Andrew joked, amazed as always at how brilliant Margaret was at stowing away her girl-next-door look when the occasion called for it. Her brownish red hair, usually tossed carelessly over her shoulders, was up in an elegant arrangement that must have taken hours, and her crimson gown matched it perfectly. Most of all, her always-lovely green eyes were all the more prominent in the rare absence of her glasses. "You ought to wear contacts more often, you know," he told her almost absentmindedly as they emerged into the lobby."
"You can't fool us, Andrew, you love glasses!" replied Tara, who was also without hers for once.
"So I keep being reminded," said Ariana, the youngest of the bunch by a few years and the only one among them who had perfect vision.
"Oh, quiet, you!" scolded Diane. "There's plenty Andrew adores about you, too. Isn't that right, Andrew?"
"You know how I adore all four of you," Andrew said. "Especially tonight!"
"Good answer," Tara said, taking him by his other arm as they emerged into the chilly Manhattan evening. Her long blonde hair was swept up in a most regal French twist, but Andrew had little doubt that was leaving her bare neck rather cold in the night. For that matter, her strapless green dress was leaving modest Tara with a lot of unguarded territory...not that she showed any sign of vulnerability. That was Andrew's cross to bear tonight - and he could scarcely wait!
"One side, ladies!" Diane called out as their limousine pulled up to the curb. "Andrew, you're mine for the ride." Gathering up her royal blue skirts, she ducked into the car and settled herself in the back-facing seat, patting the space next to her. "Andrew, you get in here and open the champagne."
"Yes, ma'am!" Diane was the eldest and very much the boss. Margaret managed to claim the spot on his other side, and Andrew was presented with the most agreeable view of the two blondes, Tara and Ariana - the latter in the only short dress among them, her legs clad in patterned black tights - as the door was shut behind them and the limo pulled away from the curb. Those tights were promptly stained with the bubbly along with Andrew's pants and Margaret's dress as the cork popped out. No one complained; a night like this always meant their clothes were off to the drycleaners the next day in any case.
"Drink up, everyone!" Diane commanded, handing out glasses from the cabinet by her feet. Andrew sloshed a bit more as he poured out the champagne. "Don't waste too much of that, Andrew," Diane warned. "You know you're already in some trouble tonight, after all." She squeezed his thigh conspiratorially.
"Maybe I want even more trouble," Andrew replied.
Ariana laughed so hard she dribbled a bit of wine before she could swallow the rest. "Careful what you wish for, dear," she said.
"Just what are you wishing for?" Tara asked him.
As Andrew had a mouth full of champagne, he wasn't able to answer. Margaret did it for him: "I don't know what he's wishing for, but it looks like he knows." On that note, she patted the now very obvious bulge in his pants. "Can't wait to let that loose, huh?" she added.
"Don't get greedy," Ariana warned her. "It was my idea, after all."
"Remember that only entitles you to so much, Ariana," Diane said.
"What does it entitle me to?" Andrew couldn't resist adding.
"Wouldn't you like to know!" all four women replied in unison, as he had known they would.
"Now then, Andrew, you do know the rules," Diane reminded him. "Everybody drink up!"
It was eighteen blocks from Lincoln Center to their building, and the driver hit enough green lights to give them just enough time to finish the celebratory drinks. They gave the doorman nothing to suspect as they emerged from the limo and into the building; but in the privacy of the elevator the celebration began in earnest. Tara, usually the most reserved of the bunch, had Andrew pinned against the wall even before the doors had shut behind them and set about untying his tie with a ravenous flair. "Lovely suit, Andrew, but I just know you'll be more comfortable out of it...Oooooh!" She jumped back in surprise as Diane had pulled up her skirt and swatted her behind.
"There will be time for that shortly, Tara," Diane warned her. Then, to show there were no hard feelings, she took Tara in a bear-hug and fondled her breasts, to the latter's visible pleasure.
The elevator opened directly into the penthouse they all shared, which was strewn with the remnants of the five of them primping for the opera hours before. Diane had, though, arranged for the master bedroom to be cleaned and prepared, and as if on cue they found a dozen candles casting a warm glow on the king sized bed and its satin bedspread, which had fragrant rose petals cast about it. Diane flipped on the stereo and the silence was soon filled with soft jazz as they all awaited her order.
After a delicious pause, it came. "Tara? Now you may finish his tie. Margaret, his coat. Ariana, you're mine for the moment."
If Ariana was disappointed at being diverted to Diane's needs, she showed no sign of it as she slipped her arms around the older woman and they kissed passionately. Andrew was only just aware of Margaret and Tara undressing him as he watched Diane and Ariana's lustful stroking about one another. Soon Diane had Ariana's dress off and Andrew was treated to the beautiful sight of her in a lacy black one-piece underwear and garter-belts holding up her fishnets, with just a strip of bare white flesh peeking out from above them. Diane's large, experienced hands rubbed Ariana gently into an arousal that was palpable before Ariana even began undressing her.
By the time Margaret and Tara had Andrew down to his now extremely tight boxers, though, Ariana had Diane's dress undone and was pushing it gently over her head. Diane emerged in a strapless blue bra just in time to see Tara pulling Andrew's boxers off and his cock pointing out expectantly at the four of them. Diane had, unbeknownst to all the others, worn no panties to the opera, so her full, matronly bush was readily on display to them all. As always, her body - older, but well maintained and toned - commanded their attention.
"Margaret," she said. "Your turn, I believe. Ariana and Tara, you may do the honors with Andrew."
Without complaint, for she knew that could mean she would be allowed no fun at all this evening, Margaret gathered up her skirts and knelt down before Diane's easy chair as Diane settled herself in it and spread her legs. The soft music was presently drowned out by Diane's appreciative grunts and moans as Margaret buried her tongue in her pussy. "You are ever so good at that for a straight girl," Diane cooed as she writhed about the chair in pleasure. "You know the rule, though, don't make me come yet."
Andrew watched and listened longingly as Ariana and Tara - the latter still fully clothed like Margaret - lay him back on the bed and cuffed his hands to the headboard. He offered no resistance or disapproval as they also tied his feet down with the waiting ropes at the foot of the bed. "He's ready, Diane," Tara said when they were done.
"As am I," said Diane, gently pushing Margaret's head away and standing up. "Excellent job, Margaret." She presented her back to Ariana, who obediently unfastened Diane's bra. Fully nude at last, Diane turned around and peeled off Ariana's undergarment and stockings. From Andrew's enforced vantage point on the bed, they were a delightful contrast as always: Diane's heavy breasts alongside Ariana's perky ones with bigger nipples, Diane's wildly lush dark triangle against Ariana's dainty patch of blonde curls that did not hide the cleft of her vulva. Andrew longed to caress them both, but that wasn't to be - at least not for now. "Girls," Diane said, "Would you say our Andrew is a bit dusty after those hours in the opera house?"
"He certainly could use a good cleaning," Tara agreed, a hopeful look in her eyes as she gazed upon Andrew's body.
"Pity only Ariana and I are dressed for the job," Diane teased. "You and Margaret, take care of one another while we dust Andrew."
Andrew knew just what that meant, and he felt his skin tingle with anticipatory tickles already as he watched Ariana retrieve two feather dusters from behind the dresser and hand one to Diane. Each of them wearing an evil grin, they began with the soles of Andrew's feet. Knowing his reward would be well worth playing along, he showed no shame in wiggling his bound legs helplessly and wailing at the sensation as they moved their way slowly up his legs. Meanwhile, on Diane's order, Margaret and Tara took center stage at the foot of the bed and set about undressing one another at last. While Diane and Ariana were working Andrew into a helpless ball of pleasant frustration, he was soon treated to the sight of first Tara and then Margaret in the frilliest bras and panties he had ever seen, even on them. Rather than remove their underwear, as if by telepathic agreement they drew one another into a passionate seminude embrace, their still-confined breasts pressing together as they kissed and caressed each other's back lustfully.
As he enjoyed the show, Andrew was treated to the first hint of relief from the relentless tickling as Diane hovered over his left side and playfully rubbed her breasts against his chest, while still reaching down with her feather duster to duel with Ariana's for the right to tickle his harder-than-ever cock; both were still doing a fine job of that, and Andrew twisted this way and that in a vain attempt to escape the sweet torture. Ariana, not to be outdone, was licking and kissing his inner thighs - a pleasant addition that had the unfortunate effect of blocking his view of Margaret and Tara as at long last they peeled one another's underwear off.
Diane looked back long enough to take note of this. "Hold it, ladies!" she proclaimed just as Tara, now nude, was set to pull Margaret's panties down. "I do believe we know just what Andrew wants to see! Are we ready to let him see it?"
"Before any of us have had any
real
fun, Diane?" Ariana teased. "That hardly seems fair!"
"Then perhaps you and I had better set about having that fun," Diane concurred. "Ariana, it was your idea, so I guess you get first choice. Mouth or cock?"
