It was with a slight feeling of trepidation that I followed Michelle upstairs. The combination of her full and shapely buttocks and the sweetly acrid smell of her pussy helped to ameliorate my apprehensions. But I did feel as though I was out of my depth, bookended as I was by two elite sexual beings who were no strangers to multiple partners. They were sexual Olympians, with the stamina and innate confidence that goes were belonging in such rivalled company. I had decent stamina, I enjoyed sex, especially oral, and a powerful cock that once became hard stayed hard, but I'd never been with multiple partners. How would I know where I was supposed to be and what I should be doing with whom? I assumed that I would be guided.
Brad was behind me, his meaty uncut cock swishing side-to-side, the head still protruding from its silky hood, as he climbed the stairs. When he'd regally observed his wife blowing me in the living room, an intense expression had settled on his face. It was set there now, and there were dark rings around his eyes as though he'd been working throughout the night. His stubble seemed a shade darker, a millimetre longer. On the contrary, Michelle's demeanour was bright and excited: she bounded up the stairs while Brad stomped on every step. Her cheeks were cherry red. To look at her from the shoulders up, the erect nipples and tuft of pubic hair out of sight, one would've seen a picture of innocence; only the dry patches of our collective come on her cheek reminded me that she been feasting on our seed just minutes before.
I heard the bathroom door close behind me and the vector van kick in when Brad tugged at the cord of the light. I followed Michelle into the bedroom, a dimly lit, sparsely furnished room that had an almost wall length mirror opposite a bed covered in pristine white sheets. A pile of books and a photograph of their wedding day were the only adornments on the window ledge. Michelle's black lace knickers hooked onto my big toe as I stepped toward the bed.
"Is Brad OK?" I whispered.
She wiped her face with a toilette from a bedside table that was stocked for one act only: sex. Lube, condoms and wipes covered the desk's surface. An alarm clock was forgotten on the floor beside a pair of Michelle's hair straighteners.
"He's in the zone," she giggled. "Don't be nervous. He's intense. We'll have joints and drinks and be the best of friends. Afterwards, of course. Oh, you have some cum on your chest."
The cool wet wipe grazing across my searing skin helped to soothe me. After folding it in half, she wiped upward from my eyebrows to my hairlines. Obviously enjoying a tender moment before the licentious storm, there was a sweet smile on her face. I was full of love for her at that moment. I felt her kind nature would be a welcome counterpoint to the intense storm that was her husband's sexual nature.
"You doing very well." She kissed my cheek and dropped the wipe into a wicker bin, onto a bed of soiled tissues and winking shreds of condom wrappers. "All cleaned up and looking handsome as ever. Did you enjoy the party?"
I laughed. "I can barely remember it, if I'm honest."
"Oh, Jack. After all that event I made to throw a nice end-of-summer soiree."
"I think you and your husband are responsible for the gaps in my memory."
"Did you enjoy sucking his cock? Isn't it magnificent?"
"I did."
"As much as you thought you would?"
"More. I felt like...his whore. Filthy, but in a good way. Does that make sense?"
"A hundred percent."
"So, what happens now?"
Laying back on the bed, she said: "Why don't you concentrate on me for a moment? It might help to calm you, and it will certainly make me happy. My pussy is throbbing for attention."
She spread her shapely legs and bent them at the knees. Her shaved and as yet untouched, during this three-way tryst, vagina was a rosy-coloured bulbous cleft between her cream-coloured thighs. The side were shaved but she has a small tuft of hair on her pubic ridge. It was soft and blonde in the dim light. She stretched her legs a little more and her lips caught and then clipped apart, as though they were the lips of a magic box released by unseen hand. I could see her moistness, her excitement. She was running her hands across the quilt, drawing arcs with her bare arms.
The sight of Brad enormous cock, and the novelty that it would be my first, had caused me to salivate. Michelle's imperceptibly spreading lips, damp and glistening in the weak lip afforded by the lamp on the floor, caused that same internal yearning to more its way from the pit of my stomach throughout my body and to cause my mouth buds to come alive for a taste that could only be quenched once my lips were sealed on hers and my tongue was probing her sleek insides.
"You have a gorgeous pussy."
"Thank you, Jack. Why don't you tell me how it tastes?"
The couple were certainly happy to take the lead. Obligingly, I fell to my knees and sidled to the edge of the bed. My cock had risen to attention once again, and I enjoyed the sensation of pressing it into the side of the mattress and the cool quilt. I ran my hands alone her smooth, warm thighs while eyeing her pussy and deliberately stopping myself, against my own will, to jump straight in there and feast on it.
I teased her with small kisses along her inner thigh, moving my face and mouth toward the epicentre of her heat. I could smell her scent now, strong and pungent, slightly coarse but completely alluring. She was moaning and her hand tentatively reached for my hair. I gentled kissed her lips and washed my tongue across them briefly, just the smallest of movements, but one that caused her to gasp. And after a pause where I glanced up to see her back wildly arced and her hard, proud nipples pointing directly above her, I placed the whole flat on my tongue on the base of her pussy and slid it upward slowly, but now without a touch of force, all the way to the very tip of her clitoris, were I played a flourish of circular motion around her swelling bead. She moaned, and her hands gripped the sheets, bunching them by her hips. She pushed her groin toward me and I repeated my tongues bottom-to-top movement, savouring her creamy, fishy taste. After a few more strokes, I focused on her clitoris, making a few different movements to see what garnered the most powerful response. She liked to be licked slightly below her clitoris in anti-clockwise circles. After a few revolutions, I took her clitoris in my mouth and sucked on as you would suck in the saltiness from an olive, before releasing and licking, releasing and licking. She responded to my sucking by sitting upright and staring at me. "Suck my pussy, Jack. I fucking love it."
With every lick or twirl of my tongue, Michelle sighed or moaned or arched her back and pushed her cunt toward my greedy mouth. The bedsheets were now completely disorganised and soaking wet beneath my mouth. She'd spread her legs to their widest point, so all her pungent musk was released into my welcoming nostrils. She began having small shudders and taking deep gulping breaths. With the two fingers on my right hand, heavily lubricated with my saliva and her juices, circulating around her small hard clitoris, I licked down her pussy, pausing to suck as her velvety flaps, before dragging to tip of her anus that was puckering in and outward as she contracted and responded to the tune I was playing two inches above. I lapped gently as he hole, hoping that extra nerve-tingling sensation would tip her over the precipice she was tittering one. I twirled for a few moments and then lapped hungrily at her hole, gliding the flat thick part of my tongue over the role lumps. She began shuddering, and I could feel her arsehole twitch fast, spasmodically. Her pussy too. Her screams filled the room, the house. The window was slightly open, so her loud moans and cries of "Fuck, fuck, yes!" would've carried outside onto the quiet street.
She released the sheets. Her body twitched and she ran her limbs over the covers, seeming to sink further into them as the pleasure washed over her. I gave her soaking pussy a moment's respite before I began licking at her juices, thicker now and with a deeper, muskier scent. With my tongue and lips covered, I climbed the bed and kissing her passionately, probing her mouth with a tongue that was soaked in her wetness. She sought her own flavour from my lips. Finally, I lay beside her, content with my efforts. I looked at our bodies in the mirror, my pale toned frame and her slender sun-kissed body with the gorgeous swell at the hip, entwined. My erection looked large in the mirror. I started to stroke it. I felt strong, virile and confident.
"Jack, that was amazing."