Chateau Rock

"Oh, what shall I wear?" You wail.

Lucy to the rescue. "Don't worry, we'll sort it out for you."

From nowhere she produces pots of body paint and proceeds to paste a pale yellow over your front, breasts and all.

She then takes some black paint and brushes black stripes over the yellow, ever so cleverly, so you look like the tiger lady but your breasts and mound are almost camouflaged.

She rummages in your case and brings out a black dress which buttons up the front.

You slip it on and Lucy pins the front opening back so it appears a tiger is bursting out of the dress.

"Perfect!" says Lucy.

She hands you a black carnival mask which completes the costume.

I am topless but I have fitted sliver nipple rings so my erect nipples are stretched even more.

Lucy has body painted my face with green and gold and the underside of my breasts with gold.

I have completed my costume of a green, patterned wrap which is sheer enough to glimpse the naked underneath except the movement of the material will constantly conceal as well.

That's the plan anyway!

We are ready to go!

Chapter 5

As we descend the staircase, my mind romantically goes to images of southern mansions.

But the scene that greeted us was no Tara!

True, noisy hubbub rises from the crowd that is gathered in the main room.

Largely women with a sprinkling of males, as might be the case in the later stages of the civil war.

It was the costumes which make the comparison so inept.

All manner of exotic costumes presented a spectacle, the common feature of which was to display and enhanced the nakedness and the sex of the wearers.

Julie has changed into a white cotton half top, which encloses and advertises her breasts, and a white peasant dress, the front fastenings arranged to form two gaping ovals which display her belly button and lower, her ringed labia.

Sally has a fitted green net vest which calls attention to her breasts, with a camouflage pattern, chaps pants, which show off her smoothness, back and front. Topped with an ivy crown.

I can see Carol, looking quite demure, for her, in a top and pants. She has arranged the top to cup under her breasts which are restrained with a velvet cord bra support to better display her pierced nipples.

I expect the top and pants are only for her entrance.

The men have also made an effort.

Tom, one of the roadies, wears what can only be described as a Chinese Emperor's smoking jacket. Belted and cut-away of course to display the Arab straps which hold his cock and balls thrust forward. He has created a little paper crown to fit over his cockhead.

Bob, another roadie and one of my favourites, has still got his Victorian moustache, which only enhances the leather bodice which holds his costume wings and the leather girdle, the straps of which curve around and hold his un-Victorian hairless cock and balls.

I move to greet and hug him, rubbing my ringed nipples on his chest in a friendly way.

He blesses me with his costume star wand.

Returning to the group, I notice you cautiously still close to Lucy.

"You look great. How are you feeling," I ask you.

"A bit nervous," you admit.

"It's so exotic, so sexy," you whisper to me.

Lucy strokes your arm. "At least we all fit it," she reassures.

You turn to her and rub against her.

Grateful. Comforting.

I see so many old friends.

"Let's circulate," I suggest.

Catching up, greetings and hugs at every stop, I return to see you and Lucy chatting to Sally.

You seem more relaxed, more animated. You have your arm through Lucy's arm.

Mmm! I think.

Julie takes charge and calls to go through for dinner.

The crowd files through to the vast French farmhouse kitchen with an enormous table.

We all settle. Me, you and Lucy.

Everyone has a seat and is able to take in the table groaning with food.

I'm hungry.

Everyone talks non-stop while helping themselves. It's like returning to the family.

Repairing back to the lounge area, I am rosy with the food, wine and good cheer.

We all settle comfortably, wine in hand.

Julie appears with Sara, our band drummer. Mad girl!

Sara is dressed as a nurse, sort of, if a nurse's costume comprised a white hat, white shirt unbuttoned to the waist, and tiny white skirt.

Sara had forgotten the white nurse knickers!

They manoeuvred a drip contraption, box hanging from a stand, tube from the box.

Julie explained we would play a game. 'Sexy Trivial Pursuit'.

Except anyone who gets the question correct, will have to sit on the chair and Sara will administer the drip, of farm cidre. An amount determined by Sara.

Whoever wins will get a 'special' prize which Julie will reveal. Ooh!

Having reached the stage of well-fed good-will, we were all up for it and the rounds start with raucous, lewd, good natured interventions from all sides.

Sally's demonstration of 'What would you put in a skin pole hole', involving Tom and her tongue bar, was acclaimed most correct and she was led to the chair where Sara attempted to insert the cidre straight to Sally's stomach.

The consequent gagging resulted in a good deal of cidre flowing between Sally's breasts to the outside of her stomach.

Naturally the system of forfeits for correct answers ensured that it wasn't long before the most nonsensical answers were deemed acceptable.

Lucy's assertion that she had the longest tongue resulted in Lucy, me and Carol demonstrating our talents up Tina, a sweet dancer girl in the band.

You must have enjoyed it for I notice you licking your lips when it was Lucy's turn.

Tina judged and Lucy, naturally, came out the winner and got a cidre shower.

I was glad when you got into the swing of things and licked three girls to determine who was the sweetest.

Your juicy mouthed announcement that Lisa, the rhythm guitarist, was so 'sweetie' got you the cidre reward.

Somehow, all this time, Bob must have been keeping it together for he suddenly announced he had made it to the centre and was the winner.

Bob was universally popular so, to cheers all round, was led forward to the chair, where Sara attempted to drown him.

After whispered conversations with several girls, Julie came and led Bob to the couch.

"And now, as a special prize for being tonight's champion," Julie announced, "it's the six girl sandwich."

She must have arranged it just beforehand for Sally swung her leather clad leg over Bob's head, pinning him to the couch with her pussy clamped on his mouth.

It was the signal for girls to converge on him.

I saw Lisa on one nipple when I took the other.

Sara had abandoned bar-keeping and was sucking one ball and, was that you, abandoning any last restraint, attempting to get your mouth to the other ball, while Lucy, naturally, had a hand and a mouth on his cock.

Other girls tried to get into the act.

I saw a Carol's hand, burrow under to get to his ass.

Some less frenzied girls settled for stroking suitable exposed bits of Bob left.

It was certainly more than a 'six girl sandwich'.

Given this kind of dedication, Bob wasn't going to last long.

However he had imbibed as much wine and cidre as the rest of us so that balanced it the other way.

It took quite a few minutes.

I worried when I noticed his ball sack was getting quite inflamed from all the attention.

Then what passed for a moan escaped from him, past the slippery suction of Sally's greedy lower lips.

He stiffened and pulsed, rhythmically, into Lucy's sucking mouth.

She looked as though she was determined to drain him of every last drop.

Finally, with a slurp, she allowed his cock to escape.

She must have done a good job. I didn't see any last drops emerge.

When all the female flesh removed themselves from him, Bob had a stunned smile on his face.

I was glad he had enjoyed himself.

Chapter 6

Arm hugging arm, happy and filled with good cheer, we mount the stairs together as the gathering dispersed.

The time has flown and it's late as groupings disappear to their respective nests.

"I had such a good time," you slur to me and then Lucy.

"Let's get you to bed," I encourage you.

We stumble through the door to our room with laughter and shrieks to fall in a heap on the nearest bed.

You hold my face. "You're my bestest friends," you declare before turning to Lucy.

"I love you Lucy," you declaim, gazing moonily into her eyes.

Your mouth moves to Lucy's and you grasp each other.

I am so filled with the evening's bonhomie, I do not even register the transfer of your affections.

I reach and stroke your legs, raising your hemline with each stroke.

You have lost the mask some time ago and you shrug the pinned-back dress off your shoulders.

Lucy grasps your tiger breasts as you lower your mouth onto her exposed nipples.

When I look up, you are going from one nipple to another with rouge smeared lips.

Lucy has her head back in delight.

You seek to go lower to Lucy's leather strap held lips but she holds and restrains you before helping you to divest the colour stained dress.

I feel a surge of passion as I gaze at your now naked body.

Your heavy breasts and your now almost shaved pussy.

Lucy gently pushes you back onto the bed and crouches between your legs.

I embrace you and, my mouth sucks at your mouth.

I taste also Lucy.

I guide your hand to my encircled nipples while I grasp your jungle animal coloured breasts.

While I feel you sucking at my mouth, I can hear the moans which also seek to escape and I know that Lucy, Lucy with the oh-so-expert, wriggly tongue, is giving her best attention to your shorn lips.

I know how deep she can insert that tongue, pushing and probing past your inner lips, little expert sensual flicks at your straining little bud, driving you on and on.

I am engulfed with waves of warmth and love, holding you, feeling you respond to Lucy.

I am melding with my dearest friends.

Lucy must be going into overdrive as I can feel you reach your peak, gasping and quivering.

The effect is immediate on me. I am filled with a rush which floods to my groin.

Like a big O. But a dry big O.

We transmit the after-effects to each other. The shockwaves bouncing back and forth.

Lucy emerges. Her face is smeared with your juices.

She approaches you and you take her head lovingly in your hands and, ever so gently, lick your juices from her face.

My last feelings, as I float down into blissful sleep, is of the warmth, and the musky togetherness of us intertwined.

-- End of Part 1 --