Those Days of...Ch. 16-20

Immediately below was the fleshy curve of Helen's buttocks, above them the long sweep of her back and shoulders which flexed as she absorbed the force of each of my forward thrusts, then her thick, wavy hair falling forwards, providing a sharp contrast to the fair, tanned skin of Barbara's stomach below. Higher still I could see Barbara's breasts, their firm, upswept curves tipped with dark red, erectly swollen nipples, and, higher still, her face, twisted from the growing intensity of what Helen's mouth and tongue were doing to her.

Even as I was taking all that in I saw a sudden change sweep through Barbara. Her hands, which until then she had used to keep a tight grip of the sheet, grabbed hold of Helen's head and pulled it down even harder against her pussy, and as she did that I saw her face grimace and as her mouth gaped wide open she let out a long, wailing cry of sheer bliss.

I had become so involved in the sight of them beneath me that I found I had been fucking Helen almost automatically, but seeing the actual moment of the start of Barbara"s climax suddenly made me aware of my own rapidly growing need and I realised that in fact my strokes had gradually become both faster and harder. As her climax continued on, turning into a series of seemingly endlessly rolling waves of pleasure and her cry changed to a series of low, almost despairing whimpers, I found that even over the sounds Barbara was making I could hear Helen's more muffled, gurgling sounds of satisfaction as she continued sucking at Barbara's pussy, while at the same time reacting to the growing power of the feel of my cock thrusting ever deeper into her.

Then I felt the fingers of one of Helen's hands brush against my pistoning shaft, at first I thought she was reaching down to finger her clit but then I became confused when it felt as though she was trying to get hold of me, to stop me. With difficulty I did what I thought she wanted and when I had, I realised that she was actually holding my cock steady while she eased herself forwards, off it. Then when she felt my cock-head slip out of her pussy, she lifted it and began wiping it over and around the tight, wrinkled hole above, coating it with the slickness that had covered the entire length of me, and when she had done that, she pushed herself back against me.

Something triggered a memory of that first Sunday morning together, when we had been talking about our likes and our fantasies, the quiet, shy way she had murmured - ".... ...... cock in my bottom." - and I suddenly realised what she wanted, she wanted me to fuck her arse!

I didn't need any encouragement! Naturally, while I had been looking down at them below me I had, several times, found myself wondering what it would actually feel like up inside that tightest of entrances, now I was being given the chance to find out. So, letting go of her hips for a moment, I took over what she had been awkwardly trying to do, feeling her relax as she felt my hands and realised that I understood exactly what it was she wanted me to do.

Reaching down beneath her I fingered her pussy, it was absolutely sopping wet, and having added her own juices to what she had succeeded in wiping off my cock and using them as lubricant, found I could, after a couple of firm pushes, quite easily open her up with my thumb. But when I tried to replace it with the larger mass of my cock I felt her tense momentarily, I waited and when I felt her relax again I used one hand to hold my cock steady and the other to hold her still, then slowly but surely forced the tip of it through the tight ring of muscle.

Once I'd got most of the cock-head inside I found it was relatively easy to get the rest in too and it then only needed a firm, steady shove to open up the slick tunnel beyond, and it was only when my balls were jammed, almost painfully up against the back of her buttocks that the muscles locked back in place. The feeling was absolutely sensational!

I paused for a moment, enjoying the unusual sensations that the much tighter fit of that part of her body gave me, then, once again taking a firm grip of her hips, I began to fuck her arse as she had wanted me too. I could hear myself grunting each time I forced myself deep into the hot tube-like tightness of her, feel the much stronger than usual waves of excitement that produced, feel the shock-waves of pleasure-pain shooting up through me each time my balls slapped hard up against her.

Sweat broke out as I began to ride her faster and faster and then the ache in my balls grew and, as I felt the first powerful surge rising up through me I urged my cock even deeper into her shuddering body. Then, just as powerfully as the climax she and Barbara had given me earlier, it ripped through me. I felt Helen convulsing from the start of her own climax as the first load shot deep into her, felt it growing stronger as I drove on, frantically thrusting, ramming myself into her, balls and cock pumping out everything I had. Then, when I was virtually drained, as though it was trying to urge the last few, reluctant spurts out of me, I felt her arse rhythmically flexing tightly around my greasily pounding shaft.

To say that we collapsed in an exhausted heap would be an under-statement. All three of us lay, panting for breath, occasionally shivering as after-shocks of what we had each experienced ran through our still sweating bodies.

When my heart had got back to a more normal pace and sufficient strength had returned I got up, took the covers from the chair and, as I snuggled back down between the two of them, pulled them up over us all. We lay there for a while, chuckling and giggling as we fondled whatever part of whomever we could reach, but gradually even those pleasant activities slowed and, weary but very, very happy, one by one, we fell asleep in each other's arms.

Chapter 19

Barbara's Story

Something woke me, at first I didn't know what it could have been but then, as the memories of what had taken place earlier came flooding back I reached out and then found that there were only two of us in bed. It only took a moment to work out it was Barbara that was missing and at first I assumed she had needed to go to the bath-room but when I did hear sounds, I realised they were coming from the kitchen. Slipping out carefully, so as not to disturb Helen I padded across the darkened room, found my bath-robe and, closing the door behind me, went down the hall.

She was making coffee, a light house-coat hid her exciting body but in spite of that and even in her sleep-tousled state, she managed to look quite gorgeous and when she heard me enter, she looked up and gave one of the most unimaginably brilliant smiles.

"Hi! Like some coffee too?"

"I'd love some Barbara. What woke you?"

"Oh I think I was just too excited to sleep." she said and, having finished what she was doing, she turned, came towards me, flung her arms around me, hugged me hard and said. "Wasn't it simply the most wonderful experience you've ever had?"

"By a long way Barbara. I could never have imagined anything could be as good as that."

"It was good for Mum too, wasn't it."

Remembering that Helen had been able to satisfy one of her private fantasies I gave a small chuckle as I said. "Oh yes, it was certainly good for her too." I paused and then added. "But I'm especially glad it was for you, it must have helped to get rid of some of the things that have been making you feel bad about yourself."

She went quiet, still clinging to me, but obviously deep in thought and it was quite a while before she actually answered. "Yes. Yes you're right about that. Being able to share you with Mum seemed to unblock something deep inside me. I know it's silly, but that's caused so many problems during the last few years."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes I would actually, talking would probably help even more. I've never been able to tell anyone you see, certainly not Mum, not all of it anyway. With you it would be different somehow, I trust you. But it's a very long story and it"s very late."

"None of us has to be up early tomorrow and in spite of all the energy I used I don"t really feel at all sleepy. So if you want to talk why don't we take the coffee and some biscuits into the lounge-room."

"If you"re sure, I"d have to start at the beginning and that's a long, long time ago now. Could you stand that at this time of the morning?"

I looked up at the clock on the wall, it was just after two o'clock, yet I felt quite fresh and coffee and a smoke would help even more, and of course I very much wanted to hear Barbara's story and doubted there would ever be a better chance.

"I feel fine now, and I guess the adrenaline from all the excitement is still be running. So coffee, biscuits and story it is."

I took one of the arm-chairs and Barbara curled herself up on the settee, the coffee on the table between us and as we settled ourselves, she began her story, as she had said, at the very beginning.

"I had always loved my parents and I had always known I was adopted, though when I was very young I wasn't really sure what the word actually meant. I knew that the way Mum and Dad had me was somehow different to the way other parents had their children and even though I wasn't quite sure what that difference was, I had an impression that I had somehow been chosen by them, and in fact that made me feel very special.

They always made a lot of fuss over me, gave me lots of hugs and kisses, Mum always made sure I was dressed nicely and fixed my hair just the way I liked her to. She was so lovely, warm and soft, I wanted to grow up looking just as beautiful as she was, and have someone love me as much as Dad loved her.

Even when I was very young I could see how much he loved her by the way he looked at her and the way he touched and kissed her. When they thought I wasn't looking they'd kiss each other really hard, not just the little kisses they gave each other when I was with them, great big, proper kisses, that went on and on for a long, long time. They did other things too, touched each other in all sorts of places, and when I tried that on myself later I thought I could feel just a little bit of the nice feelings I could see they got when they did it to each other.

Dad loved me too and though he was always good for a hug he was much more shy with me than he was with Mum. He always smelt nice, sort of musky and his face was often prickly, I liked the feel of that. And of course he was strong, so strong, he could pick me up, high above his head and spin me round, and when he did that it made me dizzy and gave me some of those nice feelings I got when I touched myself.

Of course he could get angry with me, well not really angry, he'd put on this gruff kind of voice when I'd done something naughty, but it was never for very long. I knew that after a few minutes I only had to go up to him, hug him and say I was sorry and whatever I had done would be forgotten.

But though it was obvious he loved me he was, as I said, much more shy with me than he was with Mum, much more careful about how much he hugged me, never gave me any of those big, long kisses he gave Mum. I suppose that deep down inside my head I wanted to be as important to him as Mum was, to share him more equally with her.

Later, at school I learned what 'adopted' really meant but by then it made no difference to me, I couldn't imagine anyone else for Mum and Dad than the two I'd always known.

I remember that it was when, as we started learning about sexuality and one of the nastier girls in class said my adopting parents hadn't had to do that to have me, I started thinking about my real mother and father. What they had done to make me, and then thought of Helen and Luke and wondered if they did it even though they already had a daughter. That's my first conscious memory of thinking about sex, which was all to do with making babies of course. Nobody had mentioned anything about it feeling good. Most of us naturally assumed it was incredibly painful and that it was something you did only because it was what you had to do to have babies.

For a while I must have been a real pest, I'd creep around, trying to catch them. For some reason or other I thought that if they did it they'd be doing it any time and anywhere, the teacher hadn't once mentioned the word 'bed' during the talks. I did get to see them kissing and touching each other much more than I had before, and several times saw one or the other of them with a hand moving around inside or underneath the other's clothes. But I didn't see them actually doing it, not until quite a long time later, and by that time I knew a good deal more about it than as just the way babies were made.

Other than that I don't really remember any terribly significant events during my early years, we seemed to be pretty happy most of the time and my memories are really only highlighted by the sorts of things most kids remember.

I guess I was about thirteen or fourteen when things began to change, by then of course I knew everything there was to know about sex, or, like most kids of that age, thought I did. I was also going through that stage all girls seem to during puberty, rebelling against their mother. It's silly, underneath what was going on I loved her as much as ever, but at times it was as though there was someone else inside me, someone who was determined to make her as unhappy as possible. Whatever she asked me to do, I did the opposite, I did things just to get her angry, it was a crazy time, lots of shouting and tears. Poor Luke had no idea what was going on, and certainly hadn"t any way of doing anything about it.

Most of that was of course caused by the fact that I was starting on the process that would make me a woman, I had my first period, my shape started to change and suddenly there were boys, all sorts of boys. I developed a bit quicker than most of the girls in my class, quicker and more obviously. It seemed to me that my breasts, waist and hips arrived virtually overnight, and the boys followed the next day.

Two other things happened during that time, Mum started talking more seriously about sex, and Luke started to get tougher.

Mum and I had always talked reasonably freely about our bodies, what different parts were for and later, what changes would happen inside me. She talked about sex too, but in an abstract kind of way, she was more personal than the teachers at school but still a bit remote. Once I started taking an interest in boys, and I suppose, more importantly, once they started taking an interest in me, she started being more direct, much more personal. She tried to explain how boys and girls had different attitudes to relationships and how that in turn affected the way they treated each other. A lot of it made good sense, but I was still in my rebelling mode and no matter how sensible what she was telling me might have been, I was determined to take no notice.

The only thing I let her get through to me about sex was contraception, I knew the basics of course and also knew that I'd need her support if I wanted to get anything other than condoms, and, except in emergencies, to most of us the thought of having to use them was the pits. Not that I planned on getting myself screwed straight away, but I needed to be sure Mum would support me when the time came.

The next few years were busy, a lot of fun, and a lot of tears and heart-ache too. I learned a lot about boys, and about other girls too, especially that when emotion comes in the door, friendship flies out of the window.

As I said, during that time I started having problems with Luke too, previously I had always been able to get round him whenever I needed to, but suddenly it was as though he was a different man, much firmer with me, more strict, not as easy to persuade.

Then I began to notice that I'd sometimes catch him looking at me in a strange way, and after a particularly bad row about coming home too late one night, suddenly the penny dropped. I realised he wasn't just worried about me, he was actually jealous of the boys I was going out with. And that meant he was starting to see me as a woman, and, from some of the looks I had seen in his eyes, as an attractive and desirable woman.

I didn't set out to seduce him of course, I was just using the new weapon I found I had to get my way with him, as up to then I had always been able to do. I did some things quite unconsciously but I was quite deliberate about others, especially when Mum wasn't around. Like leaving my bed-room door half open when I was getting dressed, going between my bed-room and the bath-room in just my undies, leaving a couple of buttons on my blouse undone so I showed a bit of my new breasts, sprawling on the floor so he could see plenty of leg. They sound silly now, but at the time I could see from his almost pained reaction just how effective they were.

Poor Dad, thinking back over that time, I must have got him worked up many times, and at the same time managed to make him feel incredibly frustrated.

In between that I was experimenting like mad, with the best of the boys that came flocking around for me. I had decided that I'd have a go at anything, anything short of full-on sex that is. That gave me a fair amount of scope, as I was to find out for myself. I'm not really sure just why I'd decided to stay a 'virgin', what a stupid word, it means nothing at all if you think about it. Anyway, I'd made a sort of vow to myself, and I stuck to it, well for quite a while anyway.

I remember the night I sat down and worked it all out, the scale of things I was prepared to do, and with whom. I had a sheet of paper, boys names down one side, things I'd let them do to me, or that I would do for them, down the other. It was quite a list, and thank heavens nobody but me ever saw it! And by the time I'd finished it I'd got myself off two or three times, from just thinking about a couple of the boys and what I wanted them to do for me.

I used to have dreams about that list, that it was all happening, all at once, a whole bunch of boys around me, doing and letting me do all the things I had thought up, and the dreams I had were all very, very wet dreams.

Anyway, when it came to putting the list into practice I had a few problems of course, some I had anticipated, others I hadn't. A boy I hadn't even included on the list turned out to be fantastic, one or two that I had, when it came to the real action, were absolute duds. Guys who looked terrific often turned out to be real dorks, had no idea where anything was, while another, who had absolutely nothing going for him in the looks department, wow! I just had to give his cock a quick feel and poweee, straight to the right spots.

Somehow, even while all that was going on I managed to keep my reputation, don't ask me how, there were girls doing far less than I was who everybody said went all the way, and were considered nothing but sluts. That was the worse thing a girl could be known as, by either other girls or, funnily enough, the guys too. But, while I was jacking some of them off, sucking a few, and letting quite a lot of them feel almost any part of me they fancied, I was still considered one of the O.K. group of girls.

So, by the time I was eighteen and in my last year of school, working just hard enough to get a sufficiently good pass to get me to the technical college course I had my heart set on, I considered myself to be reasonably experienced when it came to everything except full sex, and I'd seen enough action to have a pretty fair idea of just how I'd go at that too."

She paused to take a drink which gave me time to settle the whirling images her story had already created inside my head. I'd created a picture of what I thought she must have looked like as a maturing school-girl, and adding the actions she had just told me about to that made me wish I had been fortunate enough to be one of the boys on that list of hers. I was still trying to imagine myself in that lucky position when she continued on with her story.