Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Girls Talk

No apologies for posting someone else's story here - especially as I have a starring role in it. This was written by my friend Chrissie Bentley, and while it is sort-of-fictional, there's a lot of truth in it as well.


I guess I just wasn’t thinking straight.

I was so excited when he started to come, and the thin milky liquid gently seeped across his helmet, that I was already leaning forward, my tongue tip poised to taste him, completely forgetting there was more to come.

Spurt! Instinctively I flinched back.

Splash! A thick streamer lashed itself to my cheek. It was on my nose, it was on my lips, it was in my hair, and it was still pumping. Above me, Dave was groaning his ecstasy, and… I don’t know what I was feeling. A rush of excitement like I’d never experienced before. A sense of lust that I could not control. And a depth of hunger that only one thing could satisfy. I closed my eyes, opened my mouth, and clamped down on the end of his cock, feeling the spurting start over again as his hands closed around the back of my head, and he raised his hips to meet my face, moving himself inside me, fucking my lips and flooding my mouth.

I’d done it. After so many years of dreaming of this moment, after all those nights spent caressing myself to sleep while my mind conjured hot, hard cocks for me to devour, I had finally sucked and swallowed… yes, mustn’t forget to swallow it all… a man. And I loved it.

It was strange. Listening to my girlfriends talk, I really wasn’t sure what to expect. It’s slimy, they’d warn. It’s sticky, they’d shudder. And it tastes of salt and old cheese. Maybe it is, maybe it does. I’m sure there are times when it really isn’t pleasant. Like, if he hasn’t bathed in a while, or he’s sweating a lot, or if you simply aren’t in the mood, but decide to do it anyway. But right here, right now, with my pussy screaming so loudly for attention that the juices were trickling down my leg, with one hand massaging my own breast while the other held his cock upright, and every other fiber of my being focused firmly on drawing as much of his magic as I could milk from his balls… fuck going for a slap-up feast at the ritziest restaurant in town. I could dine like this forever.

Dave was softening now, but I continued to suck. In fact, I was sucking harder now. As his thickness ebbed away and my jaw finally relaxed, now I could really go to town. I pulled him in deep, felt my nose brush his stomach; liked the way it felt and drew him in even deeper, enfolding his entire prick in my mouth while he just lay there gasping, his hands idly stroking my hair while I ground my face into his stomach and my mouth still clung onto its prize. And that felt good as well. Next time, I resolved, I would do it while he was still hard. I didn’t know how my mouth would accommodate his whole length, but now was not the time to worry. Details. I was going to deep throat this boy, even if it meant drilling a hole in the back of my head.

I sat up, looked him in the eye. Dave was still lying there, exhausted, his body a liquid pool of putty. I kissed him on the mouth, wondered if he could taste himself all over my lips, and what he was thinking as he did. I soon found out.

His hands slipped onto my waist, tugging at me; for a moment I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but I relaxed and went with the flow as he drew me up, up, up, and then his hands were on my ass, pushing me towards his face… pushing my still wet, still screaming pussy closer and closer to his darling mouth. And when his tongue finally touched me, traced my folds, invaded my pink, slipped inside and began to roll, it was as though my mind completely surrendered control of my body to my instincts. For the next thing I knew, I was riding his face, not gently, not sweetly, not an iota of tenderness. I was bucking, I was grinding, I was crying out to Dave and Jesus and the Gods of Fuck-Me-With-Your-Face-Oh-Christ-I’m-Coming-Yes-Yes-YES! and I was, and I did, and my entire body was shattering into thousands of pieces, and every other orgasm I had ever had in my life felt like a mere undressed rehearsal for the real thing.

He was still licking me; I placed a hand on his forehead and shifted a little. “No more,” I breathed. “Let me.” The last few wriggles, the last few thrusts, I needed to be in control of them, wringing the very last drops of joy out of my pussy, as he caught his breath and I felt his wet face sticky against my inner thigh, his damp stubble adhering to my flesh. I unclasped his head from between my thighs and flopped onto the bed alongside him. So warm, so secure, so safe. Neither of us spoke. What was there to say? You were amazing? We knew that already. I’ve never come that hard before? We knew that as well.

I reached down and felt his cock. Still soft, but that was okay. I didn’t need it so badly now, was no longer consumed by the desperate urge to feel it driving down my throat… in fact, now I was wondering whether that was even possible? I can set off my gag reflex when I’m cleaning my teeth. I couldn’t imagine what a thick cock would do….

Research! Back in class on Monday morning, looking around at my fellow students while Professor Glyczwycz droned on about the constitution in an accent that only thickened as the class went on, I tallied in my mind the girls who I knew had given their boyfriends “good head”… or, at least, who said they had.

Gloria. Yeah, well I wouldn’t doubt that for a second. Five foot nothing of sheer sexual magnetism, she only had to chew the end of her pen and every guy in the class would turn around to watch.

Martha. She’s been going steady with the same guy since High School. If she hasn’t, then what on earth are they even doing together?

Lisa. I don’t know. She’s got a mouth on her, that’s for sure. But whether she uses it for sucking cock or simply bragging about her conquests, nobody has ever been able to decide. The fact that she’s been my best friend since Junior High only makes the mystery more intriguing.

And Jenny. An English Major, the class poet, and a girl so gifted with erotic rhyme that it’s criminal that it’s nothing you could make a living from. I’ve read verses she’s written that could make your hair curl with desire. She has to know what she’s talking about, because there’s no way you could make that stuff up!

Anybody else? I don’t know. Most of the girls here keep themselves to themselves, at least when it comes to the real nitty-gritty. Jenny did point out an intriguing stain on Sharon’s blouse one morning, that wasn’t there before she disappeared between classes, and we spent far too much time trying to manoeuvre ourselves around, trying to catch the sunshine glistening off droplets of come on her cheeks. We didn’t see any, but Jenny wrote a verse about it anyway, and how privileged did I feel, knowing that I was alongside her when she got the inspiration? I’ll tell you. Very.

I made a bee-line for Jenny at recess, asked about her weekend (dull, studying, and cold pizza for dinner every night), then told her about mine. In brief. Just a general, “then Dave came over yesterday….”

“Your folks are out of town again?” Her voice was a mixture of incredulity and envy.

I nodded. “Sick aunts can be very demanding.”

“Is she that bad?” We talked for a while about that; I can be so blasé on the subject when it suits me, but in truth, I rather like Aunt Lil, would probably even have cut class for a few days to travel up to visit her, if it hadn’t been for Dave.

“Wow, he must be good,” Jenny smirked, and I really don’t think she was expecting an answer, but she got one anyway.

“He’s better than good. I haven’t come that hard in my life!” And then it all came rushing out, what I did to him, what he did to me… or was that me doing it to him again? I wasn’t sure. Quite honestly, at the end, it wouldn’t have mattered what his tongue and mouth were up to, just knowing he was there beneath me was all the stimulation I required. And I was about to tell her what I intended doing next when recess was over and we were hustling back to class, while Jenny smiled that secret smile that always precedes a new burst of inspiration. Jesus, was she going to write a verse about me?


Cocks followed me all over campus that day. Not literally… or maybe yes, literally. In math class, it took me a good twenty minutes to confirm that Jon Wood in the seat in front of me, wasn’t masturbating furiously through the lesson, but was surreptitiously playing with a calculator. On the way to the cafeteria, I passed a couple of freshmen discussing a porno they’d watched over the weekend. And no sooner had I sat down with a salad and a soda than Martha slumped into the chair alongside me and announced, without any preamble or warning whatsoever, “I’d kill for a nice length of cock.”

What? I turned and stared at her, certain that I’d simply misheard what she said amid the noise of the break room. “I’m sorry?”

“I said, I’d kill for some cock right now.” She raised her Coke and took a deep draught. “It’s bizarre. I’ve been with Gerry for so long that I don’t even think about sex anymore, it’s just something we do. Then he goes away for a couple of weeks, and I’m dreaming about the thing every night!”

That’s right. Her childhood sweetheart had deserted her while he flew home to tend to an ailing relative. What is it about family members just lately, all falling sick at the same time? First Aunt Lil, then Gerry’s whoever… I returned my attention to Martha’s remark.

“Well, go out and find one,” I laughed. “So long as that’s all you’re looking for, just a good hard cock to spend a night with. Gerry need never know. The things are everywhere. Come on, anyone here you fancy?” I looked around the room. In truth, there really wasn’t much in the way of good pickings, a mish-mash of overbearing jocks and undersexed nerds, a handful of stoners and a few studious nobodies. I wondered where all the cool kids spent their lunch, and why I’d never tried seeking them out? Because I had Dave, of course. But maybe Martha wouldn’t be so choosy. “So?”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t. Not with a stranger…. Not that.”

“Not what?” I love Martha dearly, we’ve been friends for ages and have seen one another through many a disaster. But she does talk in riddles sometimes, and today, lucky me, looks like being one of those occasions. Or not. She started to explain.

“Okay, I had this dream. I don’t know what caused it, because it’s not something I’ve ever wanted to do before, but I can’t get it out of my mind. Just the picture of it, and imagining….”


“Alright. He’s come, okay? I don’t know how, probably a hand job. Anyway, I’m looking down and there’s come all over his cock, just streaks of it. And, in my dream, I lean down and I just lick it off, really slowly, like I don’t want to miss a drop of it.”

Oh my God! I looked around to see if Jenny was in sight, chuckling quietly to herself as I fell into her trap. It would be just like her to spread my story around campus, and then I corrected myself. Actually, that’s the last thing she’d do, verbally, anyway. No, if Jenny was going to immortalize me, she’d do it in verse, not gossip. I looked again at Martha and I realized, the girl was deadly serious.

“Yeah…” Even with my heart no longer pounding betrayal in my chest, I wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Well, like I said, I’ve never done that. Never even thought about it. And now it’s all I can think about.”

“What do you usually do when he comes?”

She laughed. “Duck.”

“So you do…”

“Blow him? Of course. But, you know… only for a while. He’s usually more interested in fucking, anyway. That’s why this dream’s so freaky. I don’t even know if he’d like it.”

I thought about Dave, how he responded when I did that; how he bucked and fucked even as his dick softened, and how the come just kept on pumping out, as though the very force of suction was drawing it out. “I think he will. And, if he doesn’t, well like I said, there’s plenty more guys around who would love it.”

She smiled, this branch of the conversation clearly at an end. “Well, we’ll see. Anyway, what I wanted to ask was, Jenny and I are going to the mall this evening, some late night shopping, a few drinks. Are you up for that?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Hmmm. I’ll tell you why not. Because, if there’s one thing I should have learned a long time ago, it is that Jenny does not like leaving questions unanswered. And the question was, as she explained while we were waiting for Martha to decide between the pink dress or the blue one (“or maybe the white, or maybe all three… oh I can’t decide, I’ll have to try them all”), how are we going to find her a fat, throbbing cock, with two balls’ worth of hot come dripping down the helmet? Oh God, when she puts it like that it sounds positively revolting!

“I don’t know, she’ll just have to wait for Gerry to get back.”

Jenny laughed scornfully. “Gerry’s no good. He’s strictly a pussy man. He’s never even wanted to come on her tits. And Martha’s such a prude, she’ll never do it with a stranger. Hey, how about this Dave guy you’ve been seeing?”

“Hands off! He’s mine. Besides, he’s a stranger as well.”

“Actually, I was wondering whether he had any cute friends? We could all go out together and see if Martha’s interested in any of them?”

I thought about that for a moment. There’d be no harm in asking, would there? I doubted whether Martha would go for it, of course, but…

Or,” said Jenny slowly, “we could get her really drunk, and then the three of us could go over to Dave’s place right now and give him the treat of his life. Three girls, one cock, and Martha gagging to clean him up afterwards? He’d adore you forever.”

And I had to admit, she had a point….

Okay, confession time. I fancy Jenny. Always have. There’s something about her, about the way she walks and talks, but most of all, about the way she looks at you, that makes me so horny I can hardly stand it. Some nights, before I met Dave (but once or twice since then, if truth be told), I’d fall asleep thinking about how much I’d like to… what? Touch her? Kiss her? Caress her? Yes, all of those things. But, most of all, I’d like to be beneath her, like Dave was beneath me this weekend, feeling and tasting and glorying in her pussy while she ground herself to orgasm on my face.

It is only a dream. I’ve never said anything to her, and would probably die if she ever found out. And I’ve never felt this way about any other woman. But after I went to bed that evening, when the light was out and the house was silent, I had barely closed my eyes before the image started to unfurl before my eyes, of me sucking Dave’s cock until he was on the edge coming, then leaning back while Martha took over, and Jenny stepped forward to sit on my face. The last thing I’d see before her pussy enveloped my face, the last sound I’d hear before her thighs closed over my ears, would be Dave in the throes of the wildest orgasm, while Martha’s pink tongue darted back and forth, slurping up the flying seed before her mouth closed tightly over the tip, and he filled her mouth with his come just as Jenny filled mine with hers’.

If you’d pulled back my bedclothes and looked at the puddle, you’d think I’d just pissed the bed.

But then morning arrived and a calmer head prevailed. If you’ll excuse the pun. Not Dave. Dave was mine, Dave was special. If he’s going to adore me forever, it’ll be because of what I do, not my friends. And I have plenty of ideas in that direction.

The thought of Jenny, though… that was a harder one to shake, especially when she breezed into class that morning, and saw how short her skirt was.

Did she know the effect she had on me? No, of course not. Did she know the effect she had on other women, though? I think so. Her verses made no secret of the fact that she’d at least thought about going with other girls, and there were a couple of women on campus with whom her friendship had taken some very noticeable peaks and troughs.

She swung past my desk. “Looking hot, today.” That’s what I meant to say, anyway. But it came out as a mumbled gurgle, as my throat dried up at the thought of uttering anything that even sounded like a come-on. But she understood, thanked me, and gave a dazzling smile. I wondered what she looked like when she orgasmed?

“Thought any more about Dave?” she asked.

“Not in the way you’re hoping,” I answered.

“Oh well,” she sighed, and with that, she was off, leaving me to inhale the perfume that trailed in her wake, while begging my mind not to return me to the places it swept me last night. At least not until I’m safely back in the privacy of my own bed. Ridiculously, even those words made my heart pound.

I got through the day, and the evening as well. Dave came over… I cooked, and then we fell into bed, loving and lustful and liquid. But my folks would be home first thing tomorrow morning; they were driving overnight, and that was on my mind all evening, needing to do the last minute cleaning, pick up the living room, tidy the kitchen… wash my sheets. Dave came with a passion, hot on my belly, and he swore that every time with me was better than the one before. Which may be true. I hope it is. But my mind was elsewhere and, I think, a lot of my body was with it. By the time he left, I’d virtually forgotten what we’d done. I swore I’d make it up to him next time. Figured I knew how as well. I picked up the phone and dialled quickly.

“Jenny? I think I’ve changed my mind.”

And two nights later, as my throat closed for the very first time around the tip of Dave’s cock, and I luxuriated… even if it was only for a moment… in the lustful satisfaction of having swallowed him whole, I knew that I’d be able to see it through, no matter what happened when we all met up at the weekend. Because I’d shown Dave some of the most wonderful things that any woman can offer and, when I kissed him with a come-filled mouth, that coated our gums and tongues with thick white, I knew that nothing my friends could do to him would ever be anything but second best.

Or, at least, I hoped not.


I was disappointed when Dave called to say he wouldn’t be able to make it on Saturday. After all the trouble that Jenny and I had been through, as well! But I couldn’t blame him. A nasty cold had been circulating campus for a couple of weeks now, one of those virulent little monsters that starts with a sore throat as you’re falling asleep, then awakens you in the smallest hours with a raging fever and the distinct impression that your head has just been filled with cement.

I was straight round to his apartment, feeding him up with Cream of Chicken soup, stocking his bedside table with every cold cure I could think of, anything to get him back on his feet in time for the weekend. But it was a losing battle from the get-go and the only positive side of the entire affair was that I could finally quieten the nagging little voice that was asking whether I really wanted to share my boyfriend with not one, but two of my best female friends? Or was I only going along with it in the hope that I could get inside Jenny’s pants at the same time? In my heart, I knew what the answer was.

Jenny shrugged when I broke the news. “To be honest, I was beginning to wonder whether this was going to work,” she admitted. “With you and Dave, I mean. Look, let me bring along this other guy I know… it’s okay, he’s cute, smart and discreet, but better than that, he’s practically a virgin. Okay?”

I nodded. None of this was for my benefit, anyway. It was Martha was who gagging to slurp up some cum, not me… no, I’ll rephrase that. Ever since I’d discovered how wonderful Dave’s tasted, I’d had a hard time even allowing him to fuck me, for fear that it was wasting his marvelous mess. I wanted it all in my mouth, to savor and swallow, to drip down my chin till it dropped onto my chest… and a couple of nights ago, I’d figured out how I could get it. We were screwing, he was speeding up, I knew he had only moments to go… so I told him outright. “Pull out and cum in my mouth!”

He was already spurting as he rose above my body, splashing my belly and soaking my face before his puss-soaked prick slipped between my lips, and he shuddered out the last thick drops deep inside my mouth.

I clung onto him, my hands grasping his butt and holding him tight as I sucked and suckled the last gasping tremors; and, when he told me afterwards how much he loved it, how my very words had tipped him over the edge, I knew I’d get no arguments from him in the future. Fuck him, then suck him. It’s the best of both worlds, and a few more undiscovered planets as well.

Poor Martha, on the other hand, had been gagging to try it her entire adult life. But a childhood sweetheart who scarcely allowed her to kiss his cock for more than a moment before he plunged it into her pussy was never going to satisfy that urge. So Jenny and I decided to fix it for her, and maybe have ourselves some fun too. And the funniest part of it all was, Martha didn’t have a clue what was in store for her.

There again, neither did I. This was Jenny’s show, and all I had to do – now that I was no longer expected to supply the man – was be there. Okay, I’d probably have to help lower Martha’s inhibitions, but Jenny had been working on that for a few days now, and when I arrived at the bar we’d selected as a rendezvous, it was apparent that she was already at work. The two of them were buried deep in discussion, but the shocking pink binder that lay on Martha’s lap, and the conspiratorial tone of their whispered conversation, cued me in straight away as to what they were talking about. The binder was where Jenny collected the verses she wrote, the super-erotica she’d been writing for years, just one long rhyming blowjob after another. And Martha’s eyes were so wide that, if they’d been cocks, they’d have burst out of her pants.

“Not disturbing you, am I?” I sat down quickly and signaled the waitress to come over when she had a moment.

Jenny laughed and shook her head, but it was Martha who did the talking. “No, I’ve just been reading some of Jenny’s poetry. I had no idea there was so much of it.”

“What, the poetry or the sex?” I asked, and Martha smirked. “Both. Jesus, I thought blowjobs were simply a quick bit of foreplay,. This girl’s turned them into a three course meal.”

“Best meal there is,” Jenny hit back; paused in her thought while the waitress took our orders, then finished up. “Plus, it doesn’t matter how much you eat, there’s always room for dessert.”

I smirked, Martha blushed. “Yeah, well. Chance would be a fine thing.”

“You just need to pick your moment,” Jenny said softly. “Or your man. You say Gerry really doesn’t like it?”

“I don’t know. He’s never let me get that far. And the one time I asked, he looked at me like I was charging him money for it.”

“Oh, one of those,” Jenny said, carefully, cryptically, but oddly knowledgeably. “So you have to go without…” and suddenly the conversation wasn’t about sex at all, but about the ways in which relationships always come down to some kind of power play, one partner withholding something or other, regardless of how the other one feels. She was right as well. I’ve known couples break up… I’ve heard of marriages breaking up… simply because of something insignificant, in the bedroom or out of it, that grows so out of proportion that it would surely have been easier for someone to give in; that someone, of course, being the partner who says “no” every time the subject is raised. Just once. Just try it once. Or is your pride, or your fear, or your stupid inhibition more important to you than the love of your life? In too many cases, apparently so.

“Well, I’m not going to break up with Gerry because of it,” Martha spoke slowly and, I thought, just a little tearfully, but Jenny rushed to reassure her. “I’m not saying you should. Besides, you might try it and discover you hate it. It’s an acquired taste, after all… or so I’ve heard, anyway.”

Martha looked at her curiously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that. Not every girl will do it, some don’t even want to try, and others have done it once or twice and just don’t like it. Right, Chrissie?”

I snapped out of a vivid daydream, in which Dave was filling glass after glass with hot thick cum, and I was trailing behind him, draining every one. “Right. I mean… even in porn movies, you’ll see girls step back when the guy cums, so as not to get it in the mouth, or even on their face.”

“Where’ve you seen porn movies?” Jenny reeled around, and I smiled sweetly. “Around. I do have an older brother, after all, and I found his video collection when I was still at High School. I used to invite my friends over when I knew we’d have the house to ourselves, and we’d forward through them.”

“With lots of squeaks of disgust, I’m sure,” Jenny teased. “’Eeeuuwww! I can’t believe she let him put it there!’”

“Where?” asked Martha.

“Anywhere,” I answered. “But the point is, a lot of girls don’t like it, even if they wish they did. But you never know until you try, and you’ll never try…”

“…unless you do exactly what I say.” Jenny’s voice had slipped into a whisper. “Don’t look now, but there’s a guy over there who’s been staring at you for the last 15 minutes.”

Martha blushed. “I know. I saw him a few minutes ago. Do you know him?”

Jenny shook her head. “No, but he is cute.”

I glanced behind me, and saw him instantly; six foot, blonde, T-shirt and Levis… couldn’t tell his eye color from here, but I’d bet it was blue. A shy smile played around his lips as he noticed us spot him. I wondered whether this was the guy Jenny said she’d line up? I’d been wondering when he’d come into play.

Martha was still blushing. “How do you know he’s looking at me?”

“Because Chrissie has her back to him, and I know he’s not gazing into my eyes. Go on, give him a smile.”

Martha shook her head. “I couldn’t. What about Gerry?”

“What about him? I said. “You’re giving him a smile, not a handjob. Go on, before he decides we’re a bunch of lesbians and loses interest.”

Ah, the Subtle Art of the Casual Pick-up. I could watch it all night. Who’ll make the first move, who’ll break the ice… and who will wander casually over and make some absurdly transparent attempt at striking up a conversation, by asking some really dumb question like… “excuse me, but could I get a light off you?” Martha had just produced her cigarettes, and the guy was by her side like a shot.

“Sure.” She held out her Bic and flicked it alight; he leaned in close, one hand cupping hers, and Jenny and I exchanged glances. She could as easily have simply handed him her lighter. But no. I flashed on an old movie I’d watched recently, Greta Garbo being offered a light and sharing a cigarette with a suitor. Christ, it was horny! And it’s good to see, amid all the anti-smoking propaganda that floats around nowadays, that the art of seduction-by-cigarette isn’t quite dead, because Martha was giving her Newport a work-out that you’d have to be blind not to comprehend.

The guy, who now introduced himself as Ricky, was certainly entranced and, even as Jenny and I forced ourselves into a conversation of our own, we knew that he and Martha were, as they say, “hitting it off.”

But how far? She excused herself to go to the bathroom; I leaped up to join her and, leaving Jenny and Ricky alone, we went into a huddle as soon as the ladies room door was closed.

Cut a long story short. She liked him. He was cute, he was funny, he was clearly very shy. But she smelled a rat. “Is this one of Jenny’s set-ups?”

I lied. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. Why?”

“Because… well, because. I love her, but I don’t trust her. Anyway, I wouldn’t put it past her, setting me up with someone and then disappearing into the night.”

“She won’t do that. Besides, we’ve already made arrangements….” My parents, home for three days, had then turned around and gone back upstate to Aunt Lil. “The moment our back’s turned, she takes a turn for the worse,” my mother, her sister, snapped, as though the poor woman was deliberately lying in hospital, suffering complication-after-complication following what should have been a routine hysterectomy. So, with the house to myself, I’d invited Jenny and Martha to a sleepover, the first I’d hosted since Junior High. I’d stocked up on videos and a pantry full of snacks, dragged all the fresh linen into my room… and laid Dave’s photograph facedown on the bureau. Just in case.

Martha frowned. “Okay, maybe. But what should I do?”

“What do you want to do?”

There was a silence, so long that I thought for a moment that she hadn’t heard me speak. Then a blush. “I want to fuck his brains out.”

“Then do it.” And that is how, without me even being aware of the fact, my ostensibly innocent sleep-over for two of my best friends was transformed into… can you call it an orgy if there’s only one guy there? Okay, a foursome, then, three girls and one guy, only he’s not going to lay a hand on me because I only have eyes for one person in the room, and I’m going to have her, even if I have to rip that dick out of her mouth myself.

There was very little talking as we walked back to my place. My thoughts were consumed entirely by what I was now desperate to do; Jenny was silent the whole way, and it’s hard to say what Martha and Ricky were thinking, as they walked side by side, loosely arm-in-arm as though they were both drop-dead terrified of what they were doing, but didn’t want the other to know how they felt.

They didn’t get any closer once we were indoors, either, and I was just beginning to wonder if the whole evening was about to turn into a wash-out when I caught a movement out of the corner of my vision, Martha and Jenny semaphoring one another with eyebrows and smiles and flickers of the eye. Ricky had noticed it as well, and looked at me for reassurance; I shrugged and smiled… here’s a secret for you all! Guys aren’t the only people who can be left utterly mystified by the secret language of the courting female. Other females can be baffled as well, which means I was as surprised as Ricky when Jenny suddenly stood up, stripped off her T-shirt, and declared ‘this party well and truly open!”

For a moment, the rest of us just sat there staring at her, but Jenny didn’t care. Her bra came off next, and then she turned to face me… took two steps towards me, then knelt at my feet. “Come on, Chrissie. You next.” Her fingers reached for my blouse and began deftly undoing the buttons. Two, three, four… she was below my breast now, then she stopped, stood up and walked over to Martha. “You too.” I noticed she didn’t offer any assistance, though, and my heart leaped inside my chest. Jesus, does this mean I have a chance?

Jenny was kneeling before Ricky now, only he was ahead of her and had stripped off his T-shirt. So she started unbuckling his belt instead.

I watched, spellbound, as he raised his hips slightly, enough to allow her to tug down his jeans. His cock bulged inside his white jockeys, and I watched Jenny trace a fingertip down its length. Her eyes were locked on Martha now, whose own eyes were fixed firmly on that same bulge. I saw her lips part and the tip of a tongue flicker out to moisten them; then linger, poised between her slightly parted teeth. She was hungry.

Jenny’s finger was still tracing idly up and down Ricky’s cock, and I could see it beginning to rise now, to harden and tent his underwear, demanding to be released from its cotton cage. But Jenny wasn’t paying attention. She just stroked, gently, lightly, distractedly, and her eyes never left Martha’s face.

The room was silent. Even the clock on the wall in the hallway seemed to have been hushed, and there wasn’t a sound from the street outside. It was as though time had stood still, just waiting for Martha to make her move. And finally, she did, slipping out of the armchair onto her knees, then half shuffling, half crawling to Jenny and Ricky, positioning herself on the other side of his legs, and running a hand up his thigh.

He groaned, the first sound he’d made since this pantomime began, so she did it again. Only this time, instead of stopping at his groin, she allowed the tips of her fingers to graze his balls. Another groan.

Jenny’s hand slipped down to join Martha’s; a moment later, it was Martha who was caressing that cock, still bound up in its covering, but standing so tall that the elastic was surely approaching its breaking point. She grasped his waistband, pulled it down smartly, and Ricky’s prick could finally stand to attention, tall and proud… thicker than Dave’s, I noted distractedly, but probably not quite as long. Was that a good thing or a bad one? It might be nice to feel my pussy stretched wider when we fucked, because I’d tried it with toys and it was a wonderful sensation. But then I thought about how sweetly Dave’s cock fit into my mouth, how I didn’t need to strain or scrape to accommodate its girth, and how I could even maneuver my tongue a little. No, I wouldn’t trade that for the world.

Jenny, on the other hand, had no problem. She’s a tiny girl, with petite little hands that were straining to wrap themselves around that cock. But her mouth just folded itself over Ricky’s helmet and I watched as her cheeks sunk in as she sucked; heard the faint moist plop as she released it again, and smilingly angled the helmet towards Martha.

There was a moment of indecision, a flash of uncertainty that passed over Martha’s face like a shadow. But then it was gone and now she was engulfing that fat purple helmet between her red lips, and so it went on, two girls happily sharing one prick, passing it back and forth like a lollipop at the fairground, while Ricky lay back, his eyes closed in ecstasy… I wondered, would he regret that later, wish he’d kept them open the whole time instead, to record every moment of the magic? If it was me, I’d want the entire event seared into my memory banks forever.

I rose and walked across the room, settled myself between the two girls, leaned in for my share of dick. I could taste my friends’ saliva, gently sweet over the hard salt of cock, and then felt Jenny’s lips as well, as I kissed the cock from one side and she kissed it on the other, then Martha slipped it away from us and it was Jenny’s tongue on mine, twirling and probing as her free hand clasped my breast and mine held her to me, unable to believe it was finally happening, and praying the rest of my dream could come true.

She leaned back, away from Ricky, and parted her legs. My finger slipped inside her, deep into that warm wetness. I cupped my hand over her mound and let the pressure of my palm seek out her clitoris, hard against my flesh. I wanted to suck it, like she and Martha were sucking that cock and, when I looked into her eyes as we broke from our kiss, I knew that she wanted me to, as well. She shuffled back a little, raised herself up and, rolling onto my back, I slipped beneath her. Ricky moved too, raising himself to stand up behind me, his feet my bony pillow as my tongue began to explore.

Martha, too, moved; where I did not know at first. But then I felt my knees being parted wide, and a slender body worm its way between my thighs, soft kisses on my inner thigh, firm fingers parting my pussy and… she did not lick me so much as lap, long, warm, sweeping floods of flesh that made my cunt yawn wider and my juices flow faster, and then fingers reached down… not hers’, they were Jenny’s, as she leaned back as far as she could without dislodging my tongue, and began frantically fucking me around Martha’s mouth.

And then we came, Jenny and I with hitching cries, Ricky with an almighty groan, and I felt his seed splash against my skin as Jenny’s juices flash-flooded my face. I tipped my head back as far as it would go to watch Martha, the Queen of Cream, consuming his cock as it pulsed in her mouth, scooping up the overflow that ran from her lips… Jenny grasped her dripping fingers and thrust them greedily into her own mouth, then shifted, bent and kissed me hard, so that I, too, could share in the bounty. Then, when Ricky finally stepped back and fell back, onto the couch with a shuddering sigh, the side of Martha’s head resting on his softening cock, Jenny and I lay back on the carpet, her face on my breast, my arm round her waist.

After all the talk of the last few weeks, all the conspiring and planning and whispers, at last there was nothing left to say.

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