Meghan

Jeremy

Yesterday, Friday evening, Meghan called and enquired as to whether or not I had masturbated since she last saw me and, again, I was able to truthfully answer 'no'. The fact is, that I rather like not doing it; I think about it all the time, get hard as can be, frequently leak a little pre-come but then, deliberately, cool myself down by thinking of something totally sexless, such as the latest FASB. Nobody can maintain an erection and, at the same time, think about financial accounting standards.

Having made her enquiry, she told me to go to Elizabeth's store, to be there tomorrow morning - that's today - at nine thirty. When I got there, I was to have Elizabeth call her.

Meghan

He's coming along ok but he really looked totally inept when I let him fuck Elizabeth after his 'Lovemaking 101' course. He was wholly lacking in style and control. He had no finesse. Of course, given that he'd barely done it before, that was not too surprising. Still: he must be taught to do it properly, so I'm going to kill two birds with one stone and let Elizabeth be serviced by Armando while lover boy looks on and, hopefully, picks up some pointers. Just to kill another bird - or is that extending the metaphor too far? Anyway, to allow an additional piece of instruction I'm going to have him do a sort-of controlled test to learn how 'anticipation' can eliminate the need for all, or most, of the extended foreplay that we taught him.

Jeremy

Knowing Meghan's penchant for total obedience, I arrived at 'Intime' just before nine, to make sure I wasn't late then I walked past it and found a Starbucks around the corner where I sat and nursed a cappuccino until nine twenty-seven. At exactly nine thirty, I rang the bell, presuming that Elizabeth would be inside even though the store didn't open until ten.

I heard her coming to the door, heels a-clicking on the tiled floor. She peeked at me, I guess, through the peephole and opened the door.

"Jeremy," she said with that faintly husky and exotic voice of hers, "what a pleasure, do come in."

I followed her in and back to the counter area. Today she was dressed all in black, from very high, black heels, no stockings (or whatever they are called), tiny, black mini (micro?)-skirt and a black turtle-neck sweater. The only non-black items seemed to be a bright red belt and a bunch of very jingly, dangly silver bracelets on her left arm.

"Coffee?" she asked.

"Um, no, no thanks - I just had one. Um, Meghan told me to come here, now and told me to ask you to call her when I arrived."

"Ah, Meghan the dictator," and she made a sort of 'poof' sound but picked up a phone on the county and pressed one digit. "Allo ... yes, he is here ... ah? sure ... ok ... you are a bad, bad girl ... sure," and she handed me the phone.

"Hello?"

"Jeremy, I want you to do three things."

"Sure." She proceeded to tell me what she wanted me to do and exactly how I was to do it. Fuck me. Bloody Meghan had me blushing at nine thirty in the morning.

"You got all that?" she asked, having repeated her instructions, I said 'yes' and she hung up.

Still blushing I stood in front of Elizabeth, who was leaning against the counter, examining her fingernails which, I noticed were the same color as her lipstick and her belt: fire-engine red. "Um, Meghan told me that I was to feel your cunt," I managed to say.

"Ah, yes, ok," and she stepped close to me, put her forearms on my shoulders, jangling noisily as she did so; her face was very close to mine. This put me into that near-swoon state that I'd felt when I'd been getting my instruction last time we met. "So, feel my ... cunt," she whispered. I put my hand on her thighs, found my place and then slid upwards, under her skirt, to touch the silkiness of her panties. Doing so, I felt her warm breath on my forehead as I dipped down to accomplish my task. I slid two fingers inside the silk and felt her copious hair. However, when I found her slit I became somewhat confused: it was totally unlike the last (only) time I had touched it. Now it was bone dry; I could barely get a finger in her. Having touched it, done what I'd been told to do, I withdrew my hand.

"Was that fun, Jeremy," she whispered.

"Er, y-yes."

"So, I touch you, no? Is fair" and she took her right forearm off my shoulder and slowly moved her hand down my cheek, my chest and stomach until it rested on my groin. She was still leaning into me and I began to think that with the combination of her perfume, proximity and hand I might actually faint. But I didn't; I was under orders. She caressed me through my pants and then calmly unbuckled my belt, unhooked the top of my pants and slid down my zipper. To achieve this she moved her body down mine, her cheek resting on my chest. With my zipper down she pulled down my boxers and there was old faithful, standing up and ready for duty. She played with it for a minute, and as she did so, she gave me little kisses on the forehead and cheek and neck, just as she had last week.

After a period of this I managed to say: "Meghan told me to ask you to give me your panties."

"Ah, Meghan," she smiled and stepped back, put one hand on the counter, lifted her skirt and pulled her panties down so she could step out of them. They were black silk, with black lace around the openings. As instructed, I first lifted them to my face and smelled them. They had a fresh, clean smell. I then rubbed my cock and balls with them, reveling in cool silkiness. Elizabeth was leaning back against the counter, smiling and watching. I balled the panties in my right hand, wrapped them around the shaft of my cock and started to masturbate. Elizabeth moved closer and resumed her position of having her forearms on my shoulders and her face close to mine.

"Do this, fuck my panties, come with my panties," she whispered, into my ear, which she then licked. I came and, as instructed, made sure that all the semen went onto the panties. I stood there swaying and panting, essentially being held up by Elizabeth until my cock began to droop. I wiped it clean with the now very soggy panties.

"Meghan says you are to put them back on now," I shamefacedly told her.

She smiled and extended her hand. I gave her the panties and she put them back on; I could see the wetness on her thighs as she pulled the panties up. I retrieved my boxers and pants and, after a little difficulty with my still semi-erect penis, returned to my normal, buttoned-up self. Elizabeth was leaning back against the counter with a slight, quizzical smile as I carried out the third of my instructions and said: "Meghan says that, tonight, we will go to Armando."

Elizabeth

Meghan, Meghan, always the controlling one. She'd told me what to expect - except she hadn't mentioned the last bit, about Armando. What a cute little bitch she is.

Jeremy

About an or two later, Meghan calls me on my cell phone and tells me to meet her and Elizabeth at the same bar that we'd met that time she and I went to the massage place - was it The Lotus? Anyway, I was to meet them there at eight tonight.

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We met in the bar. I was on time and they were not, so I sat around feeling stupid for fifteen or so minutes, telling the waiter that I was expecting someone and would order when they arrived. When they actually did, he came over and Meghan briskly said: "Three Manhattans." I had no idea what she was talking about, but he obviously did, repeating her order in a low murmur and heading for the bar. He returned some while later with three, large martini glasses containing some kind of amber liquid. I'd never had one, but had always thought that martinis were made with gin, or is it vodka? Anyway, some clear liquid like that. I also noticed that mine had a cherry, with stem, in it. Isn't it supposed to be an olive? Meghan did the silent toast thing and we all took a sip. Holy moly, it was pure firewater. I mean, that merlot wine she makes me drink is pretty powerful stuff but this, oh man, it was strong. Meghan and Elizabeth didn't seem to share my opinion and happily took a second, larger swig.

We eventually got to the end of the drinks, by which time I was feeling pretty happy and sophisticated. Meghan, of course punctured that by growling: "eat the fucking cherry." That done, she stood and we obediently followed her out to hail a cab. It took us back to the massage place, which was called The Lotus, as I'd thought. Well, I'd loved it last time and remembered how pleasurable the sauna and massage combination had been - not to mention the climax, I wittily thought.

Once more she simply rang the bell and said "Meghan," into the speakerphone. The same Oriental lady opened the door, smiled and gave a little bow. We followed her down the hall, but this time she stopped at an elevator and said: "it was the Jade Room, Miss Meghan, yes?"

"Yes. Thank-you, Mai."

The lady punched the third floor button and the elevator immediately opened. We silently rode to the third floor, stepped out and followed the lady to door that, appropriately enough, was a sort of green/grey color. The lady opened the door, stood to one side, bowed as we entered and closed the door behind us. It was dark inside or, rather, very dimly lit by ceiling lights. Nonetheless, one could quickly see the set-up. The room was perhaps twenty foot square with one other door. In the middle was what looked like a very large square bed and on each of its sides was a sofa. The sofas were on some kind of platform, a couple of steps up, such that they kind of looked down onto the bed. The bed and the sofas were all covered in what felt like fitted sheet material, all in a lightish green (jade?) color. The walls were of a much darker shade of green, matching the fitted carpet. On one side of the room there was some kind of small waterfall built into the wall which provided a burbling background sound and on the other walls a series of gold-framed pictures of some sort. The air smelt of incense. I guessed we were not going to get a massage. Shit.

We stood inside for a second, then Meghan said: "before we sit down, feel her cunt." It must have been the Manhattan (what was that drink?) but I really didn't blush as Elizabeth obligingly came and leaned on me, just as she had that morning. She was wearing the same clothes. I hoped she had changed her panties. She had not. For as soon as my hand was under her skirt I could feel how wet they were. Then I realized that in the almost twelve hours since I had covered them with semen, the semen would have dried. Odd. Then I put my hand under the panties and realized that all of her was wet. Her panties, her pubic hair and, most of all her cunt. Her fleshy lips were as hot and wet as the time she and I had had our make-out session a week ago. My fingers came out covered in her wetness.

"Suck them clean," directed madam. I did. "Notice anything?" she asked.

"Um, she's wet?"

"Of course she's wet you idiot. Jesus fucking Christ! How was she this morning?"

"Um, dry."

"Very good. Superb powers of observation." she said - not in her most charming voice. "She was dry and now she's wet; very wet. Why?"

"Um .... she had a martini?"

Elizabeth giggled and Meghan's mouth opened then closed. "No, it's not because she had a 'martini' you idiot, and it was a fucking Manhattan, it's because she has spent all day thinking about something - haven't you darling?" Elizabeth smiled and nodded agreement. "She was thinking about Armando. Armando is going to fuck her and she likes that - don't you darling?" More happy nodding. "So, what you are seeing here is the power of anticipation: she is highly sexually aroused without anyone touching her. All she has done is think all day about this evening, about how Armando is going to fuck her and those thoughts, that anticipation, has aroused her just as much as if she had spent the last hour or so making out. Do you get it?"

"Yes," and I really did, it made sense.

"OK, let's sit down. Elizabeth, you there." She pointed to an adjoining sofa for me and sat beside me. We sat and I saw Meghan reach to the side of the sofa and, apparently press a button, for a set of lights above the centre bed-like thing came on - not intense light, but enough to bathe the scene in warm light while leaving the sofas relatively dim. A second or two later the door opened and a man entered. He was dressed in a black dressing gown and appeared to be naked beneath it. He was deeply tanned, of average height, with long dark, wavy hair and dark eyes. Your typical dark, Mediterranean lothario type. I was jealous, of course - I'd always wanted to look like that. He came across to Meghan, bowed slightly, said her name and, can you believe it, picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. "Hello, Armando, this is Jeremy," she said. He stood in front of me and calmly shook my hand as if we were both dressed in suits at the office. One cool dude this. He then moved to stand in front of Elizabeth where he repeated the bow, name and kiss routine.

Elizabeth said nothing. Instead she put her hands to the cord of his dressing gown and undid it. She then stood and slipped the gown off him. He was indeed naked underneath. Not only was he naked, but he was hairless. I mean hairless. He had shaved or waxed every damned hair off his body, every inch of which was a deep tan color and every inch of which looked like muscle. It was sickening; I could never get that buff. Elizabeth sat down on the sofa again and leaned her face into his groin. His cock was not hard - it wasn't totally flaccid, but it wasn't sticking up and out (as mine was beginning to be). He stood there, seemingly indifferent, while she slowly took his cock, all of it, into her mouth, keeping her hands away. She started to move back and forth and, as his cock got larger and larger, took less and less into her mouth. After a minute or so, he was rigid and she moved from his cock to one of his balls, which she gently licked and sucked for a while.

All of this was taking place about four feet from me. Fuck. After several minutes of this, Armando touched Elizabeth's shoulder and helped her to her feet. He led her to the bed and she knelt on it, kicking off her high heels and moving so she was facing Meghan and I, her back straight and her hands on her ankles. Armando knelt behind her, put his hands on her breasts and started kissing her neck. She arched her back, pressing in to him as he ran his hands up and down the front of her torso, paying particular attention to her breasts and her jutting nipples. After several minutes of this Elizabeth undid her belt, threw it off the bed, removed her sweater and threw that and then shimmied to the edge of the bed to remove her skirt and panties. They were now both naked. They knelt in front of us such that Elizabeth had her right side to us and Armando his left.

The lack of hair on his body allowed one to see every inch of him clearly. It was with great pleasure that I observed that his member was no larger than mine nor his balls any greater. And, I might add, his erection was equally as full as my own. Luckily at this juncture the boss took pity on me and whispered: "you can take it out." I needed no encouragement and pulled it out. It was only when Armando looked at me, at it, that I realized I was sitting here with a huge erection only a few feet from another man with an equally huge erection. It didn't seem to affect either one of us.

Elizabeth and he leaned into each other and started kissing and then, fondling each other, her hand on his cock and his rummaging around in the hair between her legs; he was obviously sliding his fingers in and out of her. Meghan slipped one hand into her shirt at this juncture and shortly after started to rub the front of her jeans. Then she said: "do it, get on top of him." At this, Armando lay on his back in the middle of the bed, his cock vertical. Elizabeth straddled him and, grasping his cock with one hand slowly lowered herself onto him. They sort of wiggled a bit and then she started a rocking motion with her hips, sliding her butt up and down while he lay still and fondled her swaying breasts. Her hands rested on his shoulders. Meghan undid her jeans; I sat there with my pants around my ankles and my cock sticking out.

After some while it became obvious that Elizabeth was close to climaxing. Her breathing got heavier and heavier while her thrusting ass moved faster and faster. In a few seconds she gave a very loud sigh and collapsed on his chest. Meghan took off her jeans and panties, exhibiting her dark bush in its white, white field of skin. After her panting subsided somewhat, Elizabeth climbed off Armando, he rolled to one side and she knelt on her hands and knees on the bed, side on to us. Armando moved behind her and, with one slow push buried his cock in her. At this, Meghan took off her shirt , got onto the bed, and lay down, face up, on the side nearest to me, her face next to Elizabeth's left hand. As Armando began a steady thrust and withdrawal, exposing his cock somewhat each time as he pulled back, Meghan began to masturbate with her right hand while playing with Elizabeth's breasts with the other. My cock was twitching and leaking pre-come.

Armando now was the one panting louder and louder until he finally pulled his cock out, pushed Elizabeth to one side and knelt over Meghan. "Yes, give it to me, give it to me. C'mon give it to me you fuck. C'mon, c'mon ..." and Armando did, shooting his semen across her chin, into her open mouth, across her left eye and onto her hair. Meghan was frantically masturbating and, as Armando squeezed the last few drops out, Elizabeth replaced him, lying alongside Meghan, her face right next to hers. As Meghan furiously fingered herself, Elizabeth kissed her on the mouth and then started licking the come off her face. Meghan came. As usual she started with the loud pants, moved to the ever louder grunts and finished with her 'fuck, fuck' thing. Elizabeth gently licked her face the whole time.

Armando quietly slid off the bed, gathered his gown and slipped out the door. Wonderful. Everyone had had a great time but me. I was sitting there panting while my cock twitched over two naked women who looked thoroughly satisfied. Luckily Meghan remembered me after a minute or two. She sat up, dragged herself off the bed and came and sat next to me. "Come over here," she said quietly to Elizabeth, pointing to the carpet. Elizabeth came and knelt in front of me her head maybe a foot or so below my cock because of the platform. "Do it," she said, "do it over her face." Elizabeth calmly tilted her head up, looking at me with those strange, blue eyes as I began to rapidly masturbate. When my panting alerted her to my imminent climax, she tilted her head back even further, closed her eyes and opened her mouth. I splattered semen into her mouth across her nose and half way across her forehead. She opened her eyes, smiled at me, swallowed and brought her face as close to me as she could. "Lick her clean," said our boss. I guess I am getting more blasé about this whole sex thing for I simply leaned down, put my hands on her shoulders and licked my come off her face. The smell was amazing: semen and perfume swirled together. Meghan looked on, dreamily fingering herself.