Jill & Tim's Story Ch. 04

IV

Tim

My Darling Jill:

There's a place in San Francisco, Part of it is a theatre, the other part is a theatre, too ... but a most unusual one …

… a large, round room. In the center of it is a large, round, fur-covered bed. Motorized, the bed turns slowly -- say, a complete revolution every two minutes-or-so, when it's turned on.

Why?

Because the outside wall of the room, except on one end, is made of booths. Each booth has a one-way mirror allowing whoever's in the booth to see into the room without, themselves, being seen. Hanging over the bed is a sensitive microphone, so that those in the booths can hear what's going on in the room by way of speakers in their booth. The system also allows someone offstage to talk to the audience.

This audience is frequently co-ed; the management encourages couples to share a booth and, with locks on the insides of the booth doors, a certain number of brave ladies -- and a lot of horny men -- inhabit the cubicles.

The usual fare is two young girls wearing only heels and smiles, who have a simulated, lighthearted girl/girl encounter for the pleasure of their hidden audience.

That audience, on this particular night, has no reason to suspect that this performance will be different .. but it will be -- and memorably so, especially for us!

* * *

The regular show runs its course. At its conclusion, a strange voice -- mine -- fills the booths as the two girls go offstage for a moment before, still naked except for their shoes, they return, leading you. Other than your high spike heels and your seamed hose, you’re dressed rather demurely: modest dress with a knee-length hem. You, in fact, look quite suburban housewife/innocent. You continue looking so as one of the girls leads you around the perimeter of the room, close to the one-way windows, so everyone can get a good look at you (a nice leg show, since the floor of the room is a couple of feet above the floor of the booths), while the other girl disappears for a few minutes. All eyes are on you, so no one really notices her returning with a towel full of unseen articles, which she places, still covered, next to the pillow on the bed, before she, too, stands next to you again as you complete your introductory circuit of the room.

As you stand there, you hear my voice....

"Ladies and gentlemen ... a bonus performance. What you are about to see, the woman you are looking at, has never before been seen in San Francisco and, except for this one appearance, will never be seen here in this way again.

“This woman is not a paid entertainer: she's not getting a penny for appearing here tonight or for doing what she's about to do. She is a housewife, an author, a teacher with an advanced degree.

"She is also my wife, and I am as proud of her as she is of herself, which is why we both want to show her off to you."

The two girls have led you to the far end of the room, by the entrance, so that all the cubicles -- including the one on the side opposite the door, in which we have our TV camera mounted on a tripod, saving this event for us to savor at our leisure -- have a clear view of the girls unzipping your rather virginal dress and removing it from your body, revealing you in a mini-slip, still demure except for the fact that it comes to just halfway down your magnificent thighs which, of course, are set in the sheer, seamed hose and perched atop your stiletto heels.

“For all her innocent looks and the fact that she's highly respected in her profession, my wife is a delightfully horny wench ... and a rampant exhibitionist, to boot. She never gets enough of men and women admiring her body and the things it can do."

The girls grasp the hem of the slip and pull it upward. Do you just imagine the pleased gasp from the booths when they see what you’re wearing, or did it really happen? You're in a sexy, lacy, garterbelt and a matching demi-bra, your now-naked nipples rouged darkly for prominence. They're very stiff and sensitive: you can feel the air-conditioned breeze in the room brushing across them, making them even pointier.

You're also wearing a pair of satin bikini panties -- really nothing more than abbreviated front and back panels held together by two thin strips of elastic, not quite enough to contain all the hair creeping around their edges -- but you’re not wearing them for long, as your assistants take the elastic from each side to pull them down your gorgeous legs and off.

"Several years ago,” I continue, as the girls together once more lead you on a close-up circuit of the mirrors and the anonymous audience behind them, "I sat where you sit now and watched the show. I told my wife about it and, even though we live a long way from here, we vowed that, someday, we'd find a way to get here together and arrange for her to do what you're about to see her do.”

You've stopped at one of the windows -- one picked at random, with no idea of who's behind it, man, woman or couples .. or anyone -- and, just inches away from the glass, face the window directly, spreading your legs and reaching down with your fingers to spread the lips of your cunt apart. With the stage a bit above floor level, if anyone is in there, they're looking up into your wet and welcoming vagina.

You imagine that, inside, there's a guy who, with that view, can no longer resist pulling his cock out of his pants and stroking himself. You smile at the thought, then let the naked girls finish leading you around the room .. and then over to the fur-covered bed. They help you up on it, making sure your magnificent legs (their soft hands seeming to deliberately caress the bare skin of your thighs) are spread and that your head and shoulders are propped up on a pillow so that those who can see your totally revealed body can also see your lovely face .. which means everyone since, even though it’s a high floor, it's a very low bed.

One of the girls pulls the towel of articles down by your hip, within easy reach; the other kneels on the bed by your side -- her bare ass and cunt impudently facing one whole wall of anonymous mirrors -- and kisses you, long and deep, one of her hands lightly caressing one of your naked breasts as, faintly, you hear my voice telling your audience, “You’re about to watch a woman do in reality what she's fantasized about for years. She and I hope you enjoy it half as much as we're about to."

The girl breaks the kiss and whispers, very sincerely, "Enjoy yourself!” before getting off the bed and joining her companion as they both go offstage, closing the door behind them -- but, having done that, they turn to watch you (as do I) through the one-way mirror in the door.

The bed begins to turn, soft music to play faintly in the background.

Your dainty hands come up to begin stroking your sensitive breasts as you watch your naked cunt and hose-encased legs reflect back at you from the mirrors/windows while the bed rotates. You wonder if everyone can tell how soaking wet and fragrant your pussy is.

And you wonder what kind of people are watching you. As one of your hands trails down your mostly-naked body to insinuate its fingers brazenly in your luxuriant bush, your puckish sense of humor brings a smile to your face as your mind begins populating the cubicles with people you know: the 14-year-old boy who delivers our paper, your principal and his ultra-straight and stringy-built wife, an ex-priest we once knew well (you're positive he'd both approve of and enjoy your display) .. me in the next booth humping his cute, pudgy blonde wife from the back while we both watch you .. your ex-husband, regretting the loss of that which he’d never really appreciated ...

Both your hands, you discover with some surprise, are busy in your bush now as you continue populating the cubicles from the storehouse of your mind.

There's the young Cuban man and his adorable sister that you and I have, respectively, both lusted after for years, since they were teenagers. In your mind, he's stroking her diminutive breasts while she squeezes his cock, warming him up for you, him warming her up for me . . .

You pull your knees up. While your spike heels are still on the bed, your beautiful legs are now spread to their fullest, your dainty asshole now as exposed to your audience as are your many fingers busy in your sopping-wet pussy.

You can't wait -- you MUST have some relief, so two of your fingers slide into your vagina and begin stroking in and out, with one lone digit from your right hand mauling your clit. As you watch yourself reflected back from the windows, you also hear, amplified, your almost strangled moans echoing in the cubicles around you, relayed there by the microphone above the bed. Faster move your fingers .. louder your cries. Suddenly, a screaming gasp and your body arches, your ass levered completely off the bed as a beautiful orgasm hits you and, for several seconds, you hang suspended as its marvelous waves wash over you, your eyes -- seeing things only you can see -- open wide in delight.

Finally, you slump, your fingers still in place, to rest a moment. As your senses return, you're ready for yet more. You pull your joined fingers from your cunt. Realizing how coated they are with your thick, delicious juices, you hold the hand up so your fingers can be seen, then slowly separate the two digits.

As you suspected, your come is so viscous and abundant that a pearly strand of it stretches across from one to the other of your finger-"Y,” so you twist your upraised wrist, making sure everyone sees it, before slowly taking all of it into your mouth, not just sucking your own come but, for good measure, sticking your tongue out to hungrily lick your fingers.

Now you're ready for Round 2, and you dip into the towel by your side, bringing forth a small, pink vibrator, the one-AA battery size. Your pink tongue comes out of your mouth again, this time to lasciviously lick the little mini-prick, coating it with your saliva, before you twist the gadget and start the motor, then hold the machine up towards the microphone so that its soft whirring can be heard by your avidly-interested (you're sure) audience.

Down it slides over your clit and into your vagina. We all hear your pleased gasps while, for a couple of minutes, you stroke the small machine in and out of yourself .. and we watch in fascination as your lovely legs slowly come up, your heels leaving the bed, your thighs moving back toward you until their tops are resting against your pointy-nippled breasts. Now there's nothing to prevent us from watching your hands remove the vibrator from your cunt and slide it downward to the small, exposed rosette between the cheeks of your adorable ass. In something like awe, all of us hear your grunts of pleasure/pain as you begin coaxing the machine into your asshole a fraction-of-an-inch at a time, both your discomfort and your pleasure obvious to all of us.

In a minute, it's in, only one small end sticking out to remind us of its presence. Slowly, you allow your legs -- still spread wide -- to lay back down flat on the bed (which continues to turn slowly). Your chest heaves in reaction as your hands cup your tits and once more plays with them and their stiff nipples for a couple of minutes before, again, you reach into the towel next to you.

You’re positive you hear murmurs from your unseen audience as you draw forth one of your favorite dildoes, a large, ebony-black one with prominent ridges on it where warm, distended-with-lust veins would be if it were a real, rather than an artificial, cock.

As the small vibrator continues whirring away in your bowels, you make love to the artificial phallus, your dainty hands stroking it in a way that makes the prick of every man watching twitch, before raising it to your mouth, licking it, then taking the beautiful head of it between your erotically-distended lips (in your mind, a delighted mental image of the cunts that dildo's been in: the pornographic sculpture in pliant rubber is a favorite of several your -- our -- girlfriends, too). There's not a man watching who doesn't wish that were HIS cock being sucked by you. As I unconsciously (and without any protest from the lady in question) play with the tits of one of the two girls who'd disrobed you earlier while all three of us watch, I realize that this is probably the most singularly obscene thing I've ever seen ANYONE do .. and revel in the fact, the warming knowledge, that you and I belong to each other.

Quickly now, you remove the dildo from your mouth; one more kiss on its glistening head, and then you lower it to your snatch, two fingers parting the luxurious hair of your bush, revealing the shiny pink interior, the other hand planting the head of the huge fake organ right on your portal.

Both your hands grasp the base of it now, fucking it into you by slow inches. The girl whose tits I've been unconsciously mauling leans back against me, gently takes my arm and pulls my hand down to her cunt. Nothing loathe, I wrap my other arm around her torso to recup her breasts, while the fingers of my other hand slide through her pussy hair to begin stroking her clit. The second girl takes no note of this: her eyes, like ours, is riveted to the sight of the last of the very large dildo disappearing into your moist, fragrant depths. The three of us watch in fascination, listen in growing excitement, as your joined hands begin sliding your toy in and out of you in a slowly increasing tempo, the full length of the phallus appearing, then disappearing, your moans getting rhythmically louder in time to the plunges, sounding just exactly as you sound when you're getting well-fucked ... which, in a sense, you are -- but you're doing it to yourself, able to guarantee that each stroke hits exactly those places you want to be touched by the ebony shaft and its oversize head.

The girl on whom I'm performing my own intimacies murmurs, "My God, how does she take it? She's so small! I’ve had some big ones in me, but never anything like THAT!” I smile to myself, but my only outward response is to slid a finger into her vagina while squeezing one of her nipples between my fingers. She sighs softly, appreciatively, and opens her heel-shod legs a bit more as all of us watch you sink your toy, full length, into your snatch before closing your legs to hold it in place.

Once more your hands cup your breasts, your strong-but-dainty fingers sliding over their smooth surfaces to softly torture your swollen nipples in unknowing imitation of what I'm doing to the girl behind our window (with the persistent stroking of my fingers in her snatch, her breath is becoming somewhat ragged. The other girl, I note, also has her eyes riveted on you .. and one of her hands is rubbing within her own luxuriant bush).

What the Manager tells us later is 25 people, plus us, watch you dip a final time into the towel and bring forth another of your favorite toys: a slim, white vibrator, a full ten inches long, two large batteries in it giving it a powerful "kick."

As you did with the now-buried dildo, you make oral love to the slim shaft enough to coat it amply with your saliva, then you flick the switch on the bottom and, this time, there's no need to hold the machine up towards the all-hearing microphones: we can hear the strong whir, and the girl whose pussy I'm fingering whispers a soft "Oh!” of anticipation as she watches you press the tip of the powerful toy into each of your pink nipples in turn --your delight, not to mention the butts of the vibrator and dildo already within you, obvious to all of us as your bed slowly turns --

before you quickly lick the end of the large shaft once more before lowering it to your lovely bush.

In a peculiar, but strangely exciting move, the fingers of your left hand take a strong grip on a clump of your cunt hair and uses it to pull the well-swollen lips of your pussy open .. then you seem to pause for a second, as if gathering either your strength or your courage, before letting the end of the dynamo in your right hand drop onto the tender protuberance of your clit. As it makes contact, all of us watch your unseeing eyes widen and your throat issue a loud "OOOH!” .. before things start happening very quickly: your heels begin sliding upward toward your toy-punctuated ass, your legs open, your knees spread wide to lay on each side of you, your left hand placing fingers on the tip-ends of both the small vibrator and the dildo, not just to jiggle them for added sensations but also, I know, to keep your forthcoming inner erotic convulsions from forcing them out of your erotic portals like two rockets.

You’re open wide to the gaze of all 28 people in your audience (plus our all-seeing video camera) -- and what a show you're giving them! As you force the inserted gadgets even tighter into place, your right hand presses the large vibrator into your super-sensitive clit, making the tender nub of your mini-prick flatten, making it party to every powerful sensation coming out of the white shaft's super-strong motor!

The girl leaning against my front is unconsciously fucking my finger now, her partner unselfconsciously stroking her own cunt as the three of us watch your beautiful body go crazy and explode! You don’t just have a climax: you begin a string of monumental orgasms, one right after the other, your head snapping from side to side as your busy fingers probe your seizure-ridden snatch into one convulsion on top of another. Your child-like voice alternates between screams -- echoing screams of pleasure -- and (the actress in you aware of the needs of your audience even in the face of the physical sensations almost overwhelming you) disconnected pleas of "Oh, Tim .. Tim, darling, fuck me. Oh! I want to suck your cock! Oh, dearest, darling, lover, I want to eat your come. Oh...!”

Finally, you can't form coherent words anymore. Your swollen cunt -- its juices smeared all over your lovely thighs -- still leaps upward to meet the motorized monster in your right hand and, even though you're still popping your cookies at a frantic pace, we can all feel -- hear -- you building to a crescendo. As I drive my fingers well up into the pussy at hand (and am rewarded by feeling her body starting to convulse in concert with yours), I see you make a minute adjustment in the angle of the large vibrator, the same change you made the night we took those beautiful photos of you jerking off: only the side of the barrel stays tightly against your throbbing clit. The end of it slides down to make contact with the bottom side of the dildo so that, suddenly, not only is your "little boy in the boat” getting its lascivious vibrations, but so is your womb, and the come-coated channel the pseudo-shaft is stretching to capacity.

It's as if a bomb had gone off in your cunt, and all of us share in your explosion over what must be the next two minutes as you twist and scream and convulse, and your thrice-thrilled body bounces hysterically all over the still-rotating, fur-covered bed, there being no mistaking the rare monumentality of the ultimate orgasm to which we're all witness (as are you, surrounded as you are by what seem to be mirrors, another thrill for you).

At last, you sprawl, exhausted, quivering, your arms at your sides, large vibrator still in hand, the smaller machine laying on the cover between your beautiful, widespread legs, your ass having forced it out just at the last moment of your climax. The girl in my arms -- as is the case with her masturbating chum -- is coming down off her own high, her explosion having occurred almost simultaneously with yours.

All of us watch in reverent silence as you slowly come back to earth, your little moans and cries calming bit by bit. Instinctively, we all know the scene is incomplete, and we wait patiently for you to regain your senses.