Cindy and Dana

Conclusion

The limo was a real surprise. Dana had said nothing about a limo, only that she would "pick me up" for an evening on the town to celebrate my birthday and that I was to wear my tux. She said nothing about a stretch limo. But there it was, long and low and sleek in the early evening light. Oh, she had told me there would be a surprise, all right, and as I walked down to the curb I was guessing that the limo must be it. It was only the first one. I was in for multiple surprises as the evening played out.

The second wasn't long in coming. As I bent through the door that the driver held for me, I saw not only the long and lovely blonde Dana, but the petite and luscious Cindy as well. Both women were smiling with glee at my expression.

"Surprise!" they chorused, and pulled me in to sit between them. They were gorgeously got up in evening gowns. Dana's was an ice blue floor-length that left one shoulder bare and showed a promising rise of breast above the top. Cindy wore a saucy little black number, strapless, that showed a fetching cleavage produced by a well-engineered bra. The skirt ended just above her knees, her legs resplendent in black patterned nylons. Their make-up was light and tasteful but designed for evening, giving an exotic cast to their faces that somehow also lent an air of similarity to them. I fleetingly imagined them working happily away at it together, planning the effect.

We settled back in the seat as the limo took off. Dana crossed her long bare legs causing the gown to slip aside exposing one glowing, well-tanned thigh. She pulled the gown over it demurely, but smiled promisingly. Cindy took up the conversation.

"Do you like my stockings?" She pulled the hem of the lacy little dress up to her crotch revealing the plump, white flesh at the tops of the nylons. I reached for one and managed only to brush the warm flesh with my fingertips before she pushed my hand away.

"That's for later. This is for now.' She reached up and took my head in her hands and gave me a soft, warm kiss, darting her tongue impudently between my lips for an instant.

"Hey! I'm here, too, you know," and Dana pulled me around for similar attention, her long, patrician face lighting with a dazzling smile as we parted. It looked like a fun night.

The restaurant was one of the oldest in the city . . . and one of the best. We were ushered through the dining room amidst curious stares and covetous looks, to a private room with a round oak table almost completely surrounded by a soft, booth-like seat upholstered in dark blue velvet. A chandelier with about two dozen real candles cast a warm glow over the linen, gleamed from the china, reflected from the silver, and shimmered on the shoulders of my two escorts.

They sat close on either side of me and were as attentive as slave girls, feeding me delicacies from the appetizer platter and filling my wine glass at every opportunity.

They were sparkling and effervescent, warm and affectionate, giving me warm, deep kisses when no one else was in the room. But when I tried to close my hand over the firm and tempting flesh beneath the table, I was playfully but firmly repelled and told to wait for the appropriate time.

When dinner had ended, when the chocolate mousse had disappeared, when the last champagne bottle had been turned upside down in its bucket and Dana had signed the credit card check, we headed for the limo. I was itching for some of the action that had been promised at every turn of the evening and was rewarded with a warm kiss from Cindy and the delight of her upper thigh where the nylons became flesh. Dana was giving instructions to the driver and if I hadn't been so lost in lust I probably would have picked up on the fact that she was taking longer at it than the drive home to one of our places would have required.

As it was, I didn't catch on to the fact that we were leaving the city until we were on the highway headed north. I can be forgiven the lapse because Dana, as soon as she reentered the limo, wrapped her arms around my head and pushed her tongue into my mouth in exactly the aggressive way she knew turned me on. Then, sitting back she slipped the gown off of her shoulder and revealed one big, round, luscious breast. It bobbled a little as it settled from the loss of support, but didn't descend more than a half-inch. It sat there, tanned and tantalizing, the nipple in its wide pink aureole staring back at me. I cupped the underside in my hand and felt its heft and warmth, heard her sigh through another kiss.

I felt something warm on the back of my neck and turned to see Cindy on her knees in the seat behind me, both of her sweet, round, impudent tits exposed and resting on my neck, the tiny rosebud nipples hard as pebbles. I kissed them and tongued the nipples, then turned back to Dana and sucked her nipple in, taking as much breast as I could into my mouth. Jealousy was obviously not a part of this little menage, but I could see that I would have to be very careful not to play favorites.

When I finally noticed that we had been in the car longer than it would take to reach any of the three apartments, I asked where we were headed, not that I cared a lot at that point.

"That's another surprise," said Cindy with a schoolgirl giggle, "you'll like it, I guarantee it."

"Just relax, birthday boy," added Dana, "Leave the driving to us for tonight."

We left the highway somewhere in the foothills and traveled a county road for about fifteen minutes, then a long driveway, at least a quarter-mile, to a large, modern house set back in the hills. The grounds were expensively maintained; I thought I saw deer grazing on the lawn.

At the house there was an array of cars, all expensive, sitting in the drive but no other limos that I could see. We were welcomed by a middle-aged gentleman who seemed to be acting as butler, but was not dressed as one, nor was his manner deferential.

"Just this way please," he said, a little sharply, "We're about to begin." He ushered us quick-time through the house and onto a patio where several seats had been arranged facing a raised platform about ten feet square and a foot or eighteen inches high; anything taking place on the platform would be at eye-level to anyone seated before it. Thousands of tiny, clear bulbs had been strung in the trees and on the overhead trellis. Other couples and small groups already occupied some of the easy chairs and loveseats in front of the platform and it was plain that everything was waiting for us. Our seats, on a sofa directly in front of the platform, had obviously been reserved; we were seated just as the lights in the trees were dimming. What follows is, to the best of my memory, an account of that remarkable presentation.

A pool of light came up on the platform as the string lights were turned out. A tall, handsome young man whose body rippled with athleticism placed a sturdy wooden chair in the center of the pool. He was wearing a pair of bikini briefs and nothing else. The great, lumpy mass of his genitals was accentuated by the hard sheen of the red fabric. I felt Cindy stir and heard her utter a little sound of appreciation at the sight. I turned to Dana and saw her eyes riveted on the young man's crotch, a broad smile on her lips.

Then, the man who had met us at the door appeared leading a stunning young woman by the hand. She was brunette, with deep, black hair, like Cindy's, falling in rolling waves a foot below her shoulders. But where Cindy's skin was a flawless, alabaster white, hers was a dusky olive. I guessed South America, Mexico or perhaps, even Mediterranean. Judging from the beautiful, heart-shaped face framed by the ebony hair, she couldn't have been more than twenty-two or -three, maybe even in her late teens. With the three-inch heels she was, perhaps, five-foot-ten or -eleven, but her figure was a perfectly curved hourglass accentuated by a slender, nipped-in waist.

The man led her to the center of the platform, turned her around, as in a strange, musicless dance, slowly two or three times, stopping with her back to us. Her gown was ankle-length and fit her like a glove, accentuating every lovely curve of her very voluptuous body. It was a deep, dark red velvet and seemed almost to burn like banked coals in the lights. It clung to her form like a kid glove, the crease between her cheeks distinctly visible. It was obviously tight, as if she had been sewn into it, the skirt was straight and narrow, hobbling her walk.

The man released her hand and left her standing there in the light in the middle of the platform with her back to us. A second man, dressed in black slacks and black turtle-neck, taller, more distinguished-looking joined her on the platform. He walked over to her and began to stroke her bottom, running his hand over the velvet curves, pressing the gown up tight beneath her cheeks to show her roundness. Then, without hesitation, he delivered a half-dozen sharp slaps to her buttocks with his open hand. If she made a sound, I didn't hear it, but Cindy let out a quiet little yelp and covered her mouth with her hand.

He turned the brunette around till she was full front to the watchers, knelt and, grasping her gown at the hem, ripped it up to her crotch. He rose, moved behind her and reached around to hold the gown open exposing two long, rich, round thighs that tapered to slender legs beneath her knees. She posed there for a moment, one leg slightly in front of the other while the spectators feasted their eyes. The gleam of bright red panties was just visible at the apex of the rip. Her eyes were closed, her head up, her full, crimson lips quivering just slightly.

The man's hands went to the top of her bodice and ripped it down to the beltline. An audible gasp rose out of the watchers as he peeled away the fabric and her breasts sprang free. They had obviously been restrained by the gown for they were huge and round, the kind of breasts that inspire comparison to ripe melons -- large ones. They were bigger than Dana's and perfectly round, high and resilient with the firmness of youth. The dark nipples, as big as the end of my finger, stiffened in the night air, stood out erotically from the large, dark circles that surrounded them. She closed her eyes and turned her head in an effort to escape the greedy gaze of the fascinated spectators.

The man released a catch at her beltline and the gown dropped into a puddle at her feet. He unhitched a catch at each side of her thong bikini bottoms and removed them from between her legs. She stood before us, except for her three-inch spike heels, completely and gloriously nude. Her thick, black bush had been neatly trimmed to reveal the contours of her mons and was enticingly damp; no tan lines interrupted the smooth, dusky complexion.

Once again she was led about the stage and turned and posed before each couple to display the lush perfection of her body. Now her huge breasts swayed and her spike heels gave a roll to her buttocks that had not been noticeable when encased in the tight, red gown.

When she paused before the three of us, the man fondled her breasts, cupping them, raising them, letting them fall. Then, turned her and exhibited her bottom to us at close quarters, stroked it smoothed it. I could see his fingers sink into the firm, soft flesh, watch the sheen of her skin as it rippled beneath his touch. He ended by slapping her bottom hard, twice on each cheek. I could feel my breathing deepen as the red handprints appeared in her quivering flesh. Cindy started and clutched my arm; Dana's hand found mine and pulled it into her lap for a slow, hard squeeze.

The girl was led to the chair; the man sat on it and drew her slowly, face down, across his lap. The lights shifted, darkening the rest of the stage, concentrating attention on the chair and its occupants. They were not six feet from us and every detail was clearly illuminated in bright stage light.

The man began slowly to massage her buttocks, rubbing the palm of his hand over one of them at a time in a circular motion, squeezing a handful of flesh, raising it as high as possible and letting it drop back to settle with a quiver. He adjusted his position on the chair so that her bottom and thighs were more clearly visible to the spectators. Lovingly, his hands wandered over her, stroking and caressing thigh and bottom, pausing to feel her deeply, traveling up between her legs to the dark crease where they met.

Then, he began to slap her bottom lightly, mere pats, just hard enough to make the flesh quiver slightly. The force increased till the blows were making an audible smack and causing her flesh to jump and quiver excitingly. Her feet began to jerk involuntarily and she held hard to the legs of the chair but still no sound escaped her.

The slaps were very hard now; her bottom turning visibly red beneath them. He shifted his focus to the backs of her thighs and rained blows up and down each in turn till they were as red as her cheeks. The smack of his palm on her flesh was sharp in the still night air.

The young man who had first placed the chair appeared again with a small cruet and handed it to the man on the chair who opened it and poured a quantity of oil onto her bottom, rubbing it in and massaging the reddened area. He poured more oil and paused to let us watch it run down her bottom into the crevice between her cheeks adding a luster to the thick black hair. It ran onto her thighs, streaking them and gleaming in rivulets down to her knees. Her bottom shone in the stage lights; handprints from the spanking were clearly visible in the oily sheen. Carefully the man massaged all of the oil into her bottom and legs, lovingly, voluptuously, feeling her slick flesh slide beneath his hands. Then, the younger man handed him a long springy affair with a handle on one end and a flat paddle-like device on the other.

The man helped the girl to rise, keeping her back to us and took the paddle from the young man. The girl knelt on the seat of the chair and folded herself over the back, bracing her hands on the backmost part of the seat. She was in profile now, so we could see her face as well as her backside; her breasts hung voluptuously forward.

The paddle's first blow caused her to jump and, for the first time, to utter a sound, a high-pitched squeal that was cut off the moment it was out of her. Again the paddle descended and this time the sting was sharper causing another squeal. Relentlessly he stroked her bottom with the paddle, deepening the color of the area to a glowing red. Her thighs were not spared and she shifted her knees with the pain as they were pummeled from knee to hip.

Finally, the man handed the switch back to the nearly nude attendant who disappeared from the stage. The girl, breathing rapidly and shallowly, was raised by the hand and once more paraded to the edge of the stage where she was stopped for our inspection not three feet away. Her face was streaked with tears and her quivering lips were puffy from having been bitten against the pain but she held her head erect and refused to cry openly. Slowly she turned till her back was to us.

The man, slightly in front of her circled her waist with one arm and caressed her bottom with his other hand, spanked hard enough to make the flesh jump erotically, held her cheeks up in both hands, let them fall again, squeezed, massaged, caressed. Then he turned her to face us and, standing behind her, began to handle her enormous breasts, squeezing and kneading and caressing as he had her bottom, covering them with oil from his hands, rolling the nipple between finger and thumb, teasing, lifting and dropping them so that the spring of her youthful flesh was obvious to all.

She closed her eyes and laid her head back against his shoulder. She appeared to relax into a dreamy state. Tears were still visible on her beautiful face increasing the eroticism considerably. He continued to fondle her breasts and roll the nipples for a long time, then let his hand wander to the trimmed black bush between her legs, caressed, parted the lips, fingered until she squirmed.

Then he turned and stepped back leaving her swaying unsteadily in the light. With one hand he brought the chair down and to one side of her. He took her wrists in both his hands and forced her to her knees, then sat in the chair in profile to the spectators. He opened his fly and produced, with some difficulty, an iron-hard cock of impressive proportions. Another gasp rose from the audience. I felt Cindy squirm beside me and saw from the corner of my eye, Dana's deepened and quickened breathing.

Without a word the brunette leaned forward and took the cock into her mouth, holding it lightly in one hand and working the head between her lips, licking and sucking willingly, eagerly, her huge breasts swaying between her arms. So near to us were they that I could have leaned forward on the couch and touched the smooth curve of her hip. The man took a length of colored ribbon from his pocket and, gathering her hair at the back of her neck, tied it up so that it would not obscure the view. Then his arms relaxed at his side and his head rolled back.

From the wings, the young man entered again, this time without his briefs and with an erection even larger than the man's in the chair. The audience gasped and uttered tense, soto voce comments as he knelt behind the girl and guided his enormous cock into her. She paused slightly in her ministrations to the other man, moving her bottom from side to side till she was well seated and soon all three settled into a rhythm that was nearly hypnotic. The in-and-out thrust of the young man's cock matched the up-and-down rhythm of the girl's head. The tempo increased and we could hear him slapping into her ample rump, see the flesh on her bottom flatten and quiver with each thrust.

Cindy's hand was buried and busy between her legs and Dana's hips were moving on the seat in the same tantalizing rhythm as the couple on the stage. I put my hand on her thigh and she took my arm. Moving closer to me on the couch, she opened the slit in her gown, uncrossed her legs and parted them so that I could reach into the soft, wet depths of her cunt. She kissed my neck as I thrust my finger as far into her as I could then pulled back to roll her clit between her slick, lubricated lips. Cindy was leaning against me on the other side. My hand was inside the top of her dress and her fingers were busy in her own sweet little pussy. All around us other couples' hands were similarly occupied but all eyes were on the trio in the light.

On stage, things were building to a finish. The man in the chair clenched his fists and tried to stop the welling orgasm he felt coming at the insistent sucking of the beautiful brunette's lips. The younger man pounded away at her bottom and was obviously near to climax. Suddenly he withdrew from her and, rising over her, jacked himself a couple of times and showered her still-red bottom with semen. On this cue, the man in the chair pulled his cock from her mouth and, half rising, pumped his load straight onto her face, coating her lips and chin, rubbing the head over her cheeks and mouth. It was a masterpiece of timing. When he was through, she took him into her mouth again and sucked lovingly, stroking up and down with her mouth till he softened and settled back into the chair. She turned to the younger man and serviced him in the same way, allowing him to slip his cock in and out of her mouth until it began to soften.

The young man rose and left the platform. The girl relaxed between the man's legs, her head in his lap and still licking and gently sucking his limp penis. Her bottom and thighs glistened with oil and semen. Streaks of semen covered her face. The lights slowly faded out. The patio remained in darkness for some time.