If her second orgasm was an enormous wave, the third was the tsunami that rocked her world. She bucked all over the bed, and started grunting from the depths of her soul.
She was also frantically kicking like she was swimming the last lap of the 100 meters at the Olympics, while at the other end she was actually chewing on the pillow. I had heard about female ejaculation of course, but I had never actually experienced one; until now.
That dragged me down a dark hole of coming which continued until I thought I was going to actually fire my balls up into her.
I recovered very slowly still lying on her back then withdrew quickly because I didn't want to crush her, only to discover that she was face down, out cold.
I could tell by the gasps that were emanating from her that she was still alive but she was dead to the world. I rolled her over and got a wash cloth from the bathroom and bathed her face.
She came back to me over a couple of minutes, but slowly. Her eyes, which were open, came into focus. Then she smiled up at me with an impish grin and whispered, "I've been ravished."
It was questionable who had ravished whom, but that was a matter for future debate. I was more concerned that she had actually passed out on me. She told me that she had come close to doing that during sex with me before.
She said that sometimes the feeling just gets so intense that her brain has to trip the circuit breakers in order to protect her sanity.
Then she suddenly burst into tears. That was a total surprise after the sex we had just had. And it might have worried me except I have had enough experience with her to know what caused THAT. And I knew what she needed me to say.
So I held her tightly, until she stopped sniveling. Then I looked into those bottomless hazel eyes and told her in unmistakable terms that she was my life. And the fact that she is able to express her love at that level of intensity was one of those mysterious gifts that a man would never question.
The look of acknowledgement and relief that came over her lovely face is something that I will treasure well into the old age that I plan to spend with her.
~
Janey
I was having one of those non-specific dreams where somebody who I knew that I loved was gently fucking me. It might have been Paul it might have been Richard the Lionheart, or Henry the Eighth, hell! For all I knew, or cared it might have been Winston Churchill himself. It really didn't matter because, The sensations in my lower stomach were winding themselves up like a catapult about to fire and I knew in my sleep that I was going to come.
Then the sensation became much more real. I felt something filling me up and then withdrawing slowly and it pushed me into the world's dreamiest orgasm.
I then drifted back to nothingness until I felt it again. And this time it was a whole lot hotter than dreamy. I woke up to the sensation of being fucked and the heat that that was generating was making me immediately lose control.
Normally I work my way up to whatever plateau I eventually arrive at when I climax. My consciousness was still getting on line but that didn't mean that my body hadn't been having the immense pleasure of a cock sliding in and out of it for some time.
And during that time I wasn't exercising any regulation of my own arousal. So I was way, way beyond redemption before any control kicked in.
Paul had been working on me for an indeterminate period of time. So rather than waking to find herself on a familiar plateau, the little lady in my head suddenly found herself suspended 500 feet ABOVE that plateau, and about to be dropped. She probably even got that Wile E. Coyote look on her face as she fell and went splat.
Needless to say the coming was so spectacular that it was actually a little embarrassing. I don't usually lose total control over my body like that. And the little devil didn't break stride through all of my thrashing, screams, and shuddering.
Consequently, as soon as things began to die down I was tossed into something that had all of the pent-up energy of the first orgasm behind it. Combined with the exponential new stimulation I had been getting since then.
I have a momentary picture of a tidal wave of sensation coming at me, which I realized was far beyond anything my psyche could handle. Then the blackness came.
I woke up a significant period of time later with Paul very worried, bathing my forehead. The little voice emerged from her bomb shelter and said, "He ought to be concerned. He almost killed you".
Then the crying started. I had to let out all of that emotion. The orgasm had helped but there were still powerful forces lurking down there and they were telling me that I should not be so much under the spell of this man.
Paul must have sensed that because he looked at me with those mesmerizing azure eyes and told me in no uncertain terms that any harm to one of us would be harm to the other. In essence we could trust each other absolutely. That was what I needed to hear.
~
Paul
It was late afternoon which in London can only mean high tea, or drinks. Given all that had transpired, it was going to take Janey some time to put herself back together.
And she made it abundantly clear that my presence was not welcome. Plus, we were going to need the cleaning staff to change the bed.
So I threw a shirt and a sport coat on over a pair of khakis and made my way down to the Baglioni restaurant bar, where I ordered my traditional first pint.
I drink beer in the UK because in my not-so-humble opinion the English make the best beer in the world. In fact I have never been sure whether I am drawn to that island for the culture, or just the beer.
The second full pint was hitting bottom when Janey finally made her appearance. It is probably cliché to say that when she walks into a room every man stares. But the fact is that every heterosexual male notices her any time that she appears in a room.
Being a man myself, I think that that is less due to her physical attributes, which are indeed awesome, than it is due to her poised, self-possessed bearing, which projects the total womanly conviction that she is the most beautiful girl in a twenty mile radius.
And I have to add that over the five years I have known her she has never been proven wrong.
She has many endearing qualities but one of her most unique is the way she looks at me when she spots me in a crowd.
The "look" is a combination of unspoken old comradeship and sexual need, like she hadn't been with me for a long time.
Her sincere happiness at seeing me was particularly ironic in this case, since we had been fucking each other's brains out less than sixty minutes earlier.
Even though she is 28 now, not 23, she can still navigate a bar stool like she did in her coed days, of course being pantherish graceful helps.
She glided onto the stool next to me and merrily hugged my arm. Half the male population of the bar looked disappointed and the other half was probably flaming.
She doesn't drink beer. In fact she doesn't drink much until sundown. So we moved over to the tables for the high tea, which I had promised her. I am not much for finger sandwiches and cucumbers so she had tea and I continued to pour pint after pint.
It had grown dark while we were sitting there and frankly I was beginning to feel the effects of the beer.
I have proven in the past that I can drink gallons of that wonderful substance with no ill effects.
But I was operating on maybe four hours of sleep. And I still contend that I would have survived the night, but unfortunately Janey decided that she wanted to start drinking along with me. It must have been about 8:00 PM at that point.
She ordered Cointreau and offered me a sip.
That wonderful orange concoction, served in a Waterford crystal decanter, would have been hard for me to pass up, even if I were sober. So I poured one for myself. We had several more.
She was looking more horny than drunk. I was totally shitfaced.
I can count the times that I have been out of control intoxicated on the fingers of one hand. By my reckoning this time would be my pinky.
The little captain in my head was maneuvering me to the elevators like a ship in a storm, while singing a rollicking, sea chantey. And like the ship that he was steering I was lurching from side to side and occasionally violently swerving.
My faithful wife was walking five paces behind me acting like she didn't know me. I didn't blame her.
We got into the elevator and I wrapped her in the sloppiest, most passionate kiss and eased us both on the car. There were two Pakistani men sharing it with us. They watched that display with undisguised lust. Janey was not amused.
~
Janey
When I came into the bar he was sitting on a stool looking like an international man of mystery. Even though I have been married to him for five years I get the exact same quiver in my belly that I got the first time I saw him.
I jumped on the stool next to him, grabbed his arm between my tits, gave it a bid squeeze and said in my sexiest voice, "Want to buy a lady some tea sailor?"
Paul says that he particularly loves the smokiness in my voice. To me, my voice is just my voice. But if it pleases him I am happy to do sultry.
We had tea and then dinner. Paul didn't eat any of the goodies that came with the tea and he had a small slice of shepherd's pie for dinner.
He DID have a couple of gallons of the sludge that passes for beer in this country. Instead of desert I ordered a decanter of Cointreau. It was more for the look and feel of the decanter itself than the liquor inside, which I also find tasty.
I poured the Cointreau from the decanter into the Waterford cut crystal snifter and held it up to the light. I swirled the dark orange liquid around, marveling at all of the colors that were captured in the lead. Paul ordered one as well. He just drank his.
He doesn't get drunk very often. But when he does it is important to get him out of polite company as fast as possible. This was one of those times.
So I suggested that we needed to go up to the room for a little exercise. That normally pries him away from whatever he is doing. This time he just looked at me blearily.
So I signed the bill, grabbed him by the arm and steered him out of the bar. He proceeded across the lobby toward the elevators listing like the Titanic and like that doomed ship he also looked like he was about to sink.
I was several steps behind trying to leave the impression that I wasn't with him. He ruined that impression as soon as we got to the elevator.
He grabbed me, lifted me off my feet and gave me a wide open mouthed, tongue swapping kiss as the doors were opening and then sort of slid us sideways into the car, with my feet kicking a foot off the ground.
A couple of Asian sub-continent types were already in the elevator. They were watching us with a look in their eyes that made me think that they hoped to be next in line. I could see them clearly because my eyes were wide open and I was struggling to make Paul put me down.
He dropped me as we reached our floor and lurched off up the hallway; headed he knew not where. I quickly followed, flustered and pulling my dress back into place.
My last impression of the closing elevator door was a couple of swarthy faces looking at me with undisguised lust.
~
Paul
She DID help me to the door of the suite. Otherwise I would have probably spent the night sleeping in the stairwell at the end of the hall.
We got into the room and her attitude changed. She must have been incredibly horny to let me continue the molestation that I had started in the elevator.
She was eyeing me like a person witnessing a slow motion train wreck. I managed to get her naked, even though I was still fully dressed myself.
I was, slouching drunkenly on the low bench that lives at the end of most hotel beds. She stood there, in very expensive thigh high nylons and five inch heels, totally unselfconsciously nude.
She was looking amusedly at me like she couldn't decide whether to get out the fire hose, or just use the portable Co2 extinguisher.
My eyes were at waist level of that wonderful womanly body, locked onto that deep fertile belly and that perfect pussy. I decided in my drunken and highly aroused state that it needed a severe tongue lashing.
So without preamble I dove into her face first. She let out a shocked gasp that I am sure was audible throughout the entire hotel.
As I started munching on her nether lips that gasp was followed by a similarly loud almost basso-profundo groan. Then she put her right hand firmly behind the back of my head and pulled.
I was chewing on her clit and licking her slit like a man who had crawled across the Sahara desert and somehow found the world's most fruitful oasis.
I use the phrase "never experienced before" a lot when I am talking about sex with Janey. But the heat, wetness and hypnotic smell was absolutely beyond comprehension.
She came in about 10 seconds, moaning loudly and grinding her hips on my face. I was still chewing like that proverbial starving dog with a bone.
She shrieked and came again. Her legs gave out and she plopped down at my feet, feet flat on the floor, knees bent, legs spread widely and hips undulating.
~
Janey
Paul must have taken my offer of sex down in the restaurant very seriously because he started ripping, and I do mean ripping, my dress off as I was closing the door behind us.
He pulled me across the room by the hips and more-or-less stumbled backward on the settee at the end of the bed, still holding onto me.
For a man in his state he did a workmanlike job of getting me out of bra and panties from that position.
I was probably looking at him like I didn't know what to do with him when he suddenly reached forward grabbed me by each of my buns and jerked me forward, towards him.
I was working on keeping my balance when I felt incredible heat and friction on the one place that is absolutely guaranteed to ring every chime in my sweet puss-puss.
To say that I loudly gasped and groaned at that contact would be a profound understatement. The contact alone started a contraction that I thought was going to blow my head off and I came hard.
But he continued to chew and kiss away and the next one, which came maybe 30 seconds after the first removed all my control over my lower body. I dropped like a rock. All I could think about was having him in me.
That wasn't a need it was an absolute necessity. I was a bitch in heat. I must have been going through all of the usual sexual gymnastics in front of him. I don't actually know. What I DO know was that he hadn't entered me even though I had reached new levels of begging.
~
Paul
I don't do oral sex with Janey much. It is not that she and I don't like it. It is just that being eaten torques Janey up so fast that there isn't any significant time before she has to have me inside her.
She is ALWAYS very insistent about where she wants me to put things and how quickly during our couplings.
In this case she was lying there humping the air with a look of pleading on her face saying, "Umm! Ahhhh! Fuck me now! I have to have it NOW! Put it IN ME, I HAVE TO HAVE IT."
I was more than happy to oblige. So I cleared the decks below for action and dropped to my knees between her legs, reached for old Lucifer and discovered that the poor old guy had passed away some time in the previous minutes. I mean I HAD NOTHING.
That happens once in a while when I drink. But it had never happened before in a situation like this.
Janey in the meantime was telling me in no uncertain terms what would happen to me if she didn't feel me inside her that very second. It was obvious that it would be extremely hazardous to my continuing existence to just shrug and say, "Oh well, nothing there, so let's just hit the hay."
So as a stopgap measure I put two of my fingers together and jammed them into her and began to fuck her that way.
She was still urging me to put it in. But at least she was starting to react. I added another finger to spread her out and began to work on her clit with my thumb. She let out a blood curdling groan, arched her back and began to frantically pump my hand.
I had found that little rough area inside her pussy that marked her G-spot and I was working that with my index finger while moving in broad circles around her clit.
My telling of this part of the story sounds matter of fact and rational, which is absolutely not what was happening.
First of all I was drunk so my brain was making no permanent recording of events. Second of all, the fingering that I was doing was pure animal instinct. It was not something that I had thought through.
Finally, it was clear that there were two people in the room who were totally out of control in a desperate; "must reach the final destination" kind of way. There was no thinking and the dance was definitely not choreographed.
Janey's pussy was crunching down on my fingers in rhythmic spasms and it was clear from the shrieks she was emitting that she was just about there.
When she came she flopped around like a newly landed marlin, yelling "JEEESUS CHRIIIIIST!! OHHH!! MYYYY!! GOOOODDD!!" She might have invoked a few other deities but I was not listening.
At that exact point in time my traitorous organ suddenly woke up, realized what was going on and proceeded to shoot about a gallon of cum on her chest, and belly. Then it immediately went back to sleep. She was a mess.
That was the second to the last thought I had before the little man in my head decided that it was time to turn off the lights.
My last perception as I toppled over onto the rug was of Janey frantically fingering herself to another climax.
~
Janey
I had progressed past begging and I was lying flat on my back with my hips arched, my legs spread wide, my 5 inch heels flat on the floor and humping the air.
At that point I was absolutely demanding that he put it in me, RIGHT NOW! Normally I wouldn't have to wait long. But in this case it seemed like it was taking him forever.
He was kneeling between my raised thighs and seemed to be fumbling around when suddenly I felt his fingers, not his cock, slide into me. It was not satisfying the way I wanted it to be. But in the state I was in I was not going to quibble.
He worked on me that way for a while and I was starting to get into it when I felt another finger, stretching me wide and his thumb on my clit. THAT was MUCH better.
I was contracting on him and pumping my hips sufficiently to generate the proper friction, when a really big orgasm arrived.
I must have missed it sneaking up on me because I was working so hard to make it happen. Since there was nobody on top of me it felt like I bucked all over the room.
Then, just as the contractions were beginning to die down, I was hit by about six gallons of blistering sperm. It shot all over my chest, belly and pussy. The little lady in my head winked and said slyly, "Well, it looks like you got his interest after all."
Paul lurched to his right and lay there draped over my widely spread leg like the proverbial sack of potatoes. The sheer naughtiness of the situation set me off again, and so I shoved him off my leg and worked Miss Puss-puss to another very satisfying orgasm.
When I opened my eyes I saw my hero lying curled up in a ball on the floor fully dressed in shirt tie and sport coat, and naked from the waist down. He was snoring like a diesel truck so I knew he was okay, just passed out from all of the booze. I was a total sticky mess.
The long hot shower afterward took care of that. While I soaped myself I raised my left breast and played with the nipple setting off little quivers. I thought about all of the sex we had had that day and it almost got me going again. But it was getting late now and I had not had much actual sleep.
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