We three wined and dined around the cabana table, all naked. One of the most enjoyable meals I had ever partaken of. Not only was the food first rate, dining with two thoroughly charming mid aged women in all their magnificent nudity and enjoying their naughty conversation was extremely pleasurable. One black and shining like ebony, the other creamy white. Chewing slowly, I appreciated first the huge black melons of Molly, her big black nipples seemingly permanently rigid. They sagged only slightly and swayed as she ate and talked. Monique’s sagged more onto her gently rounded stomach, her pink nipples crinkled and succulent. Pink and black, wonderful sexy colours.
“Well Monique, honey, when was the last time you had a fuck like that,” Molly demanded.
“God Molly, I really can’t remember. And if I could, I’m absolutely sure it wasn’t with a dick that big. And can he use that tongue. I’m positive it was further up me than many of the pricks I’ve had.” She smiled at me, her face glowing with affection. “Michael, you’re a lovely big cocked boy and generous as well. Are you going to stay a while with us?”
I sipped the lovely white wine and pretended to think hard about it. What was there to think about? I had been lovingly shagged by Marjorie, Monica’s grandmother, twice by Molly the giant nubian cook, by Marjorie’s daughters Margaret and Monique, all in the space of about 8 hours. The lusty sex, the plush surroundings, the sweet natures of all of them, and the intriguing Monica all combined to promote a supreme feeling of contentment.
“Hmmm, I don’t know, really. What if I get bored? What if you get sick of me? Worse, what if I can’t get it up any more?” I pretended to be anxious, but the shit eating grin probably gave me away.
“You won’t get bored, I promise you,” said Molly, sipping her wine. “We have yachts in the Mediterranean and the Caribbean, lodges at Aspen and Gstaad, an island off Fiji and hotels in all the top shopping areas of the world. How could you possibly get bored?”
“No. I meant getting bored with constantly fucking a bunch of old broads,” and I laughed my head off. They joined in, their massive breasts swaying and jolting.
“And we won’t get sick of you, mon,” Molly giggled. “I can sure look forward to many a good meal with you, boyo. As for getting it up, I will be putting some old cajun black magic in your food. You’re gonna find it hard to get soft.”
The both shrieked at that one, and I joined in, pissing myself laughing.
After the enjoyable meal, Monique and I showered and dressed and she took my arm and led me back to the mansion. “You go and have a siesta, lad, and we’ll see you at dinner.”
Several hours later, shaved showered and refreshed, I joined the intriguing Barents in the huge kitchen. They all helped themselves to the steaming pots on the stove and sat informally around the huge table. They were down to earth people, completely unfazed by their massive wealth. I knew they were the second highest donors to worldwide charities, and I was charmed by their natural unaffected nature. Molly was with us, as was a statuesque nordic looking woman in her forties who was introduced as Sonia and was apparently the chauffeur. Monica came in just after we had started and apologising to all, got a plate and sat down with us. Bottles of wine were uncorked and passed freely around.
“I hear you’ve had quite a busy day, Michael,” said Monica, sipping a wine, her cornflower blue eyes twinkling. Everybody around the table laughed their heads off.
I laughed with them. I could do no less. I was surrounded by beautiful women, not in the model-like sense, but becoming more beautiful to me by the passing hour. Their lovely eyes, round voluptuous figures and eager fucking had endeared them to me within a ridiculously short time.
