Marsha Entertains

It was a strange feeling in my hand. Marsha's fingers did not linger there long. She set the thing in my palm and then withdrew. Her face had retreated from Bill's cock. There was a halo of semen and saliva surrounding her mouth. Candle light enhanced that wetness and, it seemed, the silence.

I have never touched another man's penis. But I have watched this man's cock enter the mouth of the woman I love. Moments of blinking memory and fantasy flash past as I reach forth. It is a breakthrough day.

We kneeled there on Marsha's bed. Bill had eyes only for her reclining form. She caressed herself. One of her hands roamed between her nipples, down her stomach, up her side, back to her nipples, once to her mouth. She placed her other arm behind her head to prop it up. She watched both of us and stopped me as I began rolling the condom over his bulb. It twitched at my touch.

"I want you to play with it just a little." she said. Bill's cock twitched again with those words. This time more like a little leap. He placed his hand on my right arm. This was no respectful masculine athletic brush. He squeezed my bicep slightly as though he wanted to feel the muscle movement caused by my timid stroke.

My fingers wrapped around. I could feel his pulse.

"You need lubrication," Marsha rose from her position with the bottle of massage oil she keeps on her bed stand. She took my hand and poured a generous amount onto my palm. "Now stroke it a bit." She stayed on her knees. We were positioned in a triangular configuration. Two erections pointing to the center. A woman's vagina soaked and waiting. Three pairs of eyes aimed at the only movement. The slow motion anointment of a patient man's penis.

Marsha reclined, this time with both arms folded behind her head. Bill's hand remained on my arm as I unrolled the rubber over his head and down the shaft. I attributed his sigh to the sensation of coolness, like menthol as the cool latex enveloped him.

His grip on me released. Bill's form cast an elongating shadow up Marsha's waiting body. Her length seemed to increase with her anticipation. Every muscle of her outstretched left leg flexed as his erection slowly dragged up the inner thigh starting just above her knee.

She looked at me as he arrived at her entrance. "Guide him in." she purred.

I reached between their nearing pelvises. His aim was perfect but she wanted me to be touching him there at this moment. I felt the forward movement as he began his entry.

My hand would now be in the way so I withdrew. Marsha did not object. Her mouth was wide open and her head tipped back exposing her beautiful long neck and blue pulsing veins. Her eyes opened wider than I thought was possible . He did not lunge or thrust. In fact, only allowed his tip to enter, he paused at the threshold. I was impressed with his restraint. Marsha was in precoital hell. Her hips were rolling on the bed moving her pussy closer to his penis. She pulled her arms from below her head and grabbed at Bill's waist. He receded further. He moved his hips so the tip of his cock swung between her thighs slapping back and forth. A chase ensued over a distance of almost 8 inches. She caught him when he stopped moving and raising her ass from the bed finding the knob like her pussy could smell it and continued to creep till he was fully inside her. Bill remained motionless and stoic. She worked at him, grinding, dipping and retracting again and again. It was as though his cock was a dildo suspended and she needed to position herself just so for ultimate penetration.

She was muttering mindlessly. "GOD! I'm a slut! His cock feels good! Peter, tell me I'm a slut!"

Her hair was soaked. Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. She was quaking and shivering. Bill began a slow but irregular motion. He would begin to fuck her rapidly with long deep thrusts then suddenly pull out till only his head was inside her, then a single plunge followed by motionlessness. Then a quick pull and another deep stab. Marsha's words turn to pants and wheezes. It was a rolling orgasm.

Our welcome guest was now concentrating on his own pleasure. His head is tipped and his chin is almost against his chest. The only thing he wants now is to watch his cock sliding in and out of Marsha's tight pussy.

Her mouth encircles my erection. Her whole body is being shoved and her breasts sway with Bill's motion.

At last our fantasy is fulfilled. I look down her body and reach with my hand between her legs. Marsha drops me from her mouth. "I love you, Peter. Thank you."

The End