The Sleepover

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Claire finally manoeuvred first one of my hands and then the other one under her knees, pinning them into submission. The two girls both straddled my body; I was now at their mercy. Although I couldn't see their faces, I imagined that they were beaming with victory.

I started getting an anxious feeling in my stomach, and my legs felt weak and quivery. "Claire," I tried to bring sense and order to this anarchy, "You have to stop. What's going on? What are you doing?"

Claire giggled, "Anything we want to now, Timmy."

I convulsed my body, but my hands, stomach and legs were all pinned.

Claire leaned forward until her face was over top of mine. Her weight transferred onto her knees and into my hands, which hurt. She ran a finger through my hair playfully. "I don't know, Steph. What shall we do with him?" Claire mused. "Hmm? ... Ya know, he didn't want to show us his thingee before. Maybe we should take a look at it now."

"That sounds like a plan," Stephanie concurred, as she dragged her fingernails up and down the tops of my thighs, pushing up on the bottom hems of my shorts. ... Oh, gawd! This was getting dangerous. ... Then, without warning, Stephanie got up and yanked my boxers down my legs. My penis flopped helplessly into the open.

With Stephanie off of my legs, I tried convulsing again. I almost bucked Claire off my stomach, but Stephanie managed to scramble back onto my legs in time. Tiring, I settled back down.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Claire clucked her tongue at me. "Where did you think you were going? We're not through with you yet."

"Claire!" I barked. And with all the sternness I could muster and with the moral authority that the situation gave me, I commanded them, "This! ... has gone! ... too far! You must stop now! ... and leave my room!"

There was a quiet lull, and then Claire snorted loudly and uncontrollably. The sudden breaking of silence in the quiet room, coupled with the perceived silliness of my statement, caused Stephanie and then Claire herself to crack up into uninhibited laughing. It was their undoing. The more they heard themselves laughing against their wills, the funnier it seemed to them, especially as they tried to muffle themselves from being overheard by Claire's mother. I could feel their weight lifting off my body, but I didn't have to wrestle to free myself because they ended up rolling off me on their own.

Holding their mouths and their stomachs, they made their way to the door, trying desperately to calm down. But each time they seemed to stop, the ensuing silence made them laugh again. It was so infectious that I even started giggling myself, despite the seriousness of their offence.

Finally, they stood relatively composed at the door, breathing hard and preparing to dart across the hall. Claire looked over to me and said, "Oh, by the way, you're probably going to want to come and get these." I really couldn't see what she was holding up across the dark room, but I didn't have to see her to know. She had my boxers in her hand.

"I'm not going over there," I scoffed, "You can keep 'em." They couldn't out-strategize me.

"Okay ...," Claire said sceptically, "But you should start thinking about how you're going to explain them to my mom when she finds them on our floor in the morning." And with that, the two of them crossed back to their room. ... Drat!! How clever was that? How come she couldn't be that smart when we're doing assignments?

I flopped back on my bed and drew the sheets over me. I couldn't go over there. I would be walking into their trap. And what if Mrs. Wilmot woke up and found me standing naked in their room? ... But I couldn't not go and get my shorts. I was dead.

Suddenly, my door opened ... "What's going on in here?" Claire's mother asked accusingly.

"Nothing, Mrs. Wilmot," I replied, startled.

"Were you up out of bed?" she continued her interrogation.

"No, Mrs. Wilmot, I haven't gotten up," I answered truthfully.

She crossed over to the girls' room. "Why is there so much racket?" she asked sternly.

"Nothing, Mom," Claire replied, "Steph just told me a joke, and we were laughing."

"Well, settle down. It's late, and you've got school tomorrow," her mother warned.

"The joke was about this boy who lost his underpants," Claire explained, raising her voice. ... What the heck was she doing?!!

"Never mind," her mother interrupted, "I don't need to hear it. Just get to sleep now."

"Mom?" Claire called out before her mother could leave.

"Yes, dear?" her mother replied with some exasperation.

"What's that on the floor?" Claire asked coyly. ... What was she doing?!! I was dead! Dead!!

I could hear some movement in their room. In my mind, Mrs. Wilmot was picking up my boxers and fuming as she held them out in front of her scowling face. "Your slippers," she answered, "Why?"

"Oh ... I just thought they were something else. ... Good night," Claire said sweetly.

"Good night, Mrs. Wilmot," Stephanie joined in.

"Good night, girls," she acknowledged.

"Goo-oo-ood ni-igh-ght, Ti-imm-my," the girls called out across the hall in a sing-song way.

"All right. All right," Mrs. Wilmot terminated the farewells and shut their door. Standing at my door, she looked in and asked, "Are you sure you're okay, Timothy?"

"Yes, Mrs. Wilmot," I assured her.

She paused. "Do you remember what we talked about earlier?"

"Yes, Mrs. Wilmot."

She paused again. "Okay," she finally said, "Sweet dreams."

"You too," I replied and then lay back on my bed to start my worrying again. Claire must have been dropping hints to show me how serious she was. I ran through some options in my mind but came up empty. Around me in the darkness, the house settled down into a silent stillness.

*** The Counter-Attack ***

A long period of time passed. My only chance was to wait until the girls had fallen asleep. When the time felt right, I carefully got out of bed and quietly slipped on my pants. It felt weird to put on pants without wearing underwear. I had never done that before, and I found the feeling of my tender penis pressing against the cold, sharp zipper kind of thrilling.

I slowly opened my door and tip-toed across the hall. Unfortunately, I could see a faint glow leaking out from under Claire's door. I pressed my ear to the door and heard nothing on the other side. Perhaps, she had a night light, or perhaps, the girls had been waiting up for me but fell asleep. In any case, I couldn't put it off any longer; it would soon be morning.

I grasped the door knob and turned it slowly until it wouldn't turn anymore. I pushed the door open a crack. There was a light on inside, but it was very dim. I guessed that it was a lamp with a low wattage bulb or had something thrown over its shade. There was mostly silence inside; except, I thought that ... yes! ... I could hear one of them snoring lightly. I committed myself.

I stepped through the door and closed it behind me. As I turned around, my heart sank. They were both awake and staring at me. Against the wall stood a bunk bed. On the top bunk, Claire sat with her legs over the edge, smiling from ear to ear. On the bottom bunk, Stephanie laid on her side with her head propped up, continuing to make the mock snoring sounds. I was busted.

I didn't know what to do then. I could only think to reason with them. But then, Claire held my shorts up in her hand, raised them above her head and fluttered them like a flag. She teased me with them, as if she were offering a kibble to a dog if it could jump high enough to get it. But then, she swung her arm back slowly over her bunk and dropped the shorts at the far side, where the bed meets the wall.

I stared helplessly at the scene. Claire rested her hand back on her lap and motioned to me with her head where she had just dropped my prize. Neither girl moved or spoke. I approached the bed cautiously, and still neither girl flinched. Claire motioned to the boxers again with her head, so I approached closer.

Standing at the edge of the bed, I could look over the top bunk and see my shorts perched precariously on the far edge of the mattress, about to drop through the gap between the bed and the wall. I reached tentatively over the bunk to see what Claire would do, but she just watched me calmly at my side.

Well, it was then or never. I reached the final way across, and Claire suddenly swatted her hand down firmly on top of the shorts. So I launched my other arm over quickly to grab them and pull them away. As soon as both of my arms were over top of the bunk, Claire flopped her body down on top of them, pinning me. "Now, Steph," she signalled, "I got him."

The boxers were swiped out of my grasp and pulled down through the gap. Next, a leather belt formed into a loop appeared up through the gap and slid, with Claire's guidance, over one of my wrists. Then, the other end of the belt, which had been threaded through the bed frame, was wrapped around my other wrist by Claire and Stephanie working as a team.

"Secure," came the signal from below. She wasn't kidding. I pulled on my bindings and was unable to loosen or break them.

Claire got off me and sat on the edge of the bed again. "How's it look down there?" she asked.

"He's on his toes a bit," Stephanie responded.

"Okay. Loosen him off some," Claire suggested and then swung around to hold my arms down during the adjustment.

"Okay," Stephanie declared. There was, in fact, more slack now, and I was able to lower myself down onto my heels.

"Claire," I started the negotiation. "You can untie me now. You win. You caught me. I can ..."

"Hey, hey, hey, hey," Claire interrupted me, "Shhh ..." She lay down on her side on the bunk and positioned herself in front of my face. Then she held a pair of nylon stockings over top of my head and let them fall between our faces. "What do you think these are, Timmy?"

"Nylons?" I said innocently.

"Really?" she replied, "Are you sure? Because I see a gag. ... Do you still see them as nylons?"

"Yes?" I responded worriedly. My balls felt weak, and my stomach became nauseous.

"Okay," she said lightly, "But let's keep it that way." Then she kissed me on the mouth and returned to sitting over the edge of the bunk. "What are you waiting for?" she called down.

"Sorry," Stephanie replied, "I thought you were doing something up there." Then she proceeded to undo my pants – first the button, then the zipper, then they slid down my legs. Sheepishly, my penis dangled uncovered in the open air.

"How's it look?" asked Claire.

"Limp," replied Stephanie, who started batting it with her hands. She giggled. "It wobbles!" ... Perhaps, but not for long. I could feel something starting to happen down there.

"Well, play with it a bit ... like you saw your brother doing."

"Yeah." Suddenly, I felt a hand making long pulls along my penis. She was using her fingertips, but as I got firmer, she switched to more of an all-around grip. "Hey ... All right, here we go."

"Don't, Claire," I whispered pleadingly, "This is embarrassing." But it just prompted her to hold up the nylons in front of my face for effect and then drop them again. I got the message.

"Claire, get down here. Oh, wow."

Claire jumped to the floor and sat on the bunk beside Stephanie. "Oh my goodness!" Claire exclaimed. Stephanie's pumping was really taking effect. My erection was hard and angling firmly upwards now.

"Stop for a minute, Steph. I've never seen a guy's thing before."

Stephanie stopped her jerking. "Never?"

"Uh-uh. Oh look ... How come this part's smooth and this part's all wrinkly? And look at this ridge. Wow! Look how hard it is." A fingertip traced lightly over my head, around the skin below it, and then along the underside to my balls.

A hand lifted my balls up, as if to test their weight ... "Oh!" Claire exclaimed. ... and then batted at one of them, like a kitten playing with a ball of yarn. There was a giggle, and then another hand started playing with the other ball. "Mine's hanging lower," Stephanie giggled.

"What's this?" Claire asked. My balls were released to swing on their own, while a hand grabbed onto my stiff penis and pulled it down. A finger touched and probed around my hole.

"That must be where he pees from?" Stephanie suggested. A fingertip penetrated to the sensitive inner skin of the hole and poked around. I squirmed at the pain. "Timmy!" Claire called up, "Stop fidgetting!"

A hand squeezed my head and then release it. "It looks like a little mouth," Claire said playfully. "Oh look," she said as she gripped and released it in tempo with her words, "Kiss-me-Ste-pha-nie." The girls giggled. My penis got pulled down the bed towards Stephanie, and the squeezing continued. "Kiss-me-Ste-pha-nie," Claire repeated. Then I was pulled closer. "Kiss-me."

"You kiss it," Stephanie retorted.

"I will if you will," Claire challenged and then continued squeezing. "Kiss-me. Kiss-me ..."

"All right, all right," Stephanie gave in. After a moment, I felt wetness on the side of my head and heard a little smucking sound.

"Eww!!" Claire reacted, "I can't believe you just did that."

"Hey!!" Stephanie protested, "Don't back out! Your turn!"

"What if he pees in my mouth?" Claire kidded. The girls snickered. "Don't pee in her mouth!" Stephanie yelled up to me. Then, I felt the wetness again – first on the side of my head, like before, and then all around it. ... It felt really good, and I couldn't help but to moan.

"Uh oh," Stephanie commented on my reaction and got up from the bunk. Standing beside me, she asked, "Did you like that, Timmy?"

"Uh huh," I whimpered.

Stephanie sat back down. "He liked that. Do it again."

The wetness surrounded my head again, and I repeated my moan. Then it was engulfed again ... and again.

"Here, let me try," Stephanie requested, and my penis was exchanged. This time, at least half of my penis went inside. ... "Ohhh ...," I exhaled.

"Ho-ly!!" Claire exclaimed, "Were you going to swallow all of it?"

"What?" Stephanie mocked innocence and then took almost all of me in again. ... "Ohhh ...," I expressed my appreciation again.

"Here, let me try," Claire accepted the challenge. My cock went part way down. "Further," Stephanie prodded, and I was taken a little more in. "Further." But this time, Claire came up coughing. "Don't push on my head!" she snapped at Stephanie between coughs.

"Oh let me," Stephanie said impatiently. Then I felt my entire penis go in ... and slowly out ... and then in ... and out ... "Oh gawd!" I exclaimed, "You need to stop!" ... "Ooooh, Stephanie," Claire cooed on hearing me, "Keep going."

In and out, and in and out ... Something was building up. I remembered that sensation from earlier tonight. Oh no! I was getting all worked up again. ... In and out, and in and out ... It was wet and warm and slippery. ... In and out, and in and out ... Someone was playing with my balls – pulling on them and juggling them and squeezing them. ... In and out, and in and out. Slurp, slurp, slurp, ... "Ohhh!! Stoppp!!" I cried.

Claire stood up and climbed up onto the top bunk. She crawled over until her face was in front of mine. When she saw the strain on my face, she grinned. "Timmy?" she asked with a patronizing tone, "Aren't you enjoying yourself?"

In and out, and in and out ... I was trying to concentrate because significant things were happening down there. "Uh huh ...," I whimpered faintly. ... In and out, and in and out ... Claire giggled, leaned forward and kissed me firmly ... then again ... and again ... and again. Slurping came from below and above. I felt on the brink of losing control.

Finally, Stephanie pulled me out of her mouth, and I could hear her trying to catch her breath. My penis was throbbing, as if it was radiating heat. Claire gave me one last kiss and jumped back to the floor. Something didn't feel right in my balls. They were heavy or full or something.

"So show me what you were doing before when you had it in your hand," Claire said to Stephanie.

A hand wrapped around my hard-on and started slipping up and down. "Just like this," Stephanie tutored. The hand slid easily on my wet pole. ... Slide and slide and slide ... Uh! I thought something was going to hap-... Uh! Something almost ... Uh! ...

"So was that what your brother was doing when you caught him?" Claire asked. ... Slide and slide and slide ... Ohhh!!

"No," Stephanie explained, "It was a lot faster ... like this ..." Slide, slide, slide, slide, slide ... "Aaaahhh!!!" It was happening again!! My groin ... the gunk ... spurting ... my balls ... spurt ... gripping ... "Aaaahhh!!!"

"Eeee!!! It's spitting!! ... Watch it! ... Don't point ... Look out!! ... EEEE!! ..." The girls bolted off the bed, and my last few shot went freely into the air.

"Oh! Gross!!" Claire cried, "It's in my hair!"

"Pbbtt ... pbbtt ...," Stephanie spit, "Yeah? ... Gack ... Well, it's ... Uck ... it's all over my face ... pbbtt, pbbt ..."

"Oh, gawd!" Claire realized, "Mom must have heard us. ... GET HIM OUTTA HERE!"

The two girls scrambled. Stephanie frantically undid my bindings, while Claire checked the door. "Come on, come on, come on," Claire urged.

Freed, I rubbed my wrists to soothe them, but Stephanie had no time for niceties. She spun me around and shoved me tripping towards the door. Now that I could see them, I noticed gobs of gunk all over their hair and faces. It looked like wet rubber cement or clear gelatine or something.

Claire grabbed my arm and forced me out into the hall, and then closed the door. "Hey!" I called back through the door in a loud whisper, "My clothes!" Suddenly, the door opened, and some dark objects flew past my face to land with a "flump" on the floor of my room. Just as quickly, the door closed again.

*** The Cuddle ***

Abruptly, everything was dark and quiet. I stood naked in the hallway, a bit disoriented, facing Mrs. Wilmot's room. I was about to go back to bed, but the stillness of the moment made a nice change from the out of control scene that had just occurred. My head was swimming, and so I took a deep breath and tried to orient myself. I thought that I should probably go to the washroom and clean up. I took one step forward ... and Mrs. Wilmot's door opened. I froze.

Mrs. Wilmot stepped out and was surprised to see me standing there ... naked. She scanned slowly up and down my body. I covered myself. "I heard a commotion," she said as she approached. She had a quizzical look on her face. My mind raced to come up with a believable story to explain my predicament.

When Mrs. Wilmot was in front of me, she brushed her hand gently down the side of my face. "Timothy," she said softly, "Were you coming to see me?" Well, I don't know why I would be going to do that, but it was as good an excuse as anything I had come up with. "Sure, Mrs. Wilmot," I replied.

She took in a big breath through her nose on hearing my response. "Awww," she cooed, returning her hand to my cheek and swiping her thumb gently across it, "You're a good boy. ... Well, don't be shy. Come along." She took my hand and led me to her room.

I continued to cover myself with my other hand. Since I was all slimy down there, I used the hand to discreetly wipe the residue off and onto my thigh.

Mrs. Wilmot's room was softly lit by a bedside lamp. Everything looked oversized and stuffed. The bed was large, the comforter was fluffy, and pillows lay everywhere. I was getting pretty tired, and I thought about how good it would be to nestle into all that bedding material and fall asleep, but we were obviously going into her room just to talk.

She sat down on the side of her bed and patted a space beside her for me to take a seat. I followed her direction and folded my hands respectfully over my lap. In the light of the room, I felt exposed without my clothes.