An Invitation to Dinner Pt. 01

"Come on, let's show these young ones how it is done," said Diane, placing her old, familiar hand into Alistair's lap and giving his cock a squeeze.

Something akin to nostalgia stirred in him, pouring from the pit of his stomach down to his loins. Almost like his cock was responding to the echo of a memory of a good time, long ago, forgetting the toll of the decades that had lapsed since. Had she squeezed him like that the first time he had posed for her in her studio? He couldn't remember. Barney, her husband, sat next to her. Naked of course. Knees spread, lap wide, cock long, he slumped his wiry nearly-70 year old body back into the deep sofa on which they all sat. Glass of red in hand he smiled a lopsided, good-humoured smirk at Alistair, pushed his glasses up his probescent nose, and laid back for the spectacle.

And what a spectacle it was. One of the younger artists that Diane patronised at the gallery she was displaying at, was squatting naked on a Turkish rug laid in the middle of the room. There wasn't an eye that wasn't on her and the young man underneath her. Alistair hadn't assumed the evening would turn to fucking, despite the fact he had been swinging with Barney and Diane for decades. What he hadn't counted on, was the appearance of these younger guests.

Barney and Diane had offered Cindy a young artist from the gallery a lift, along with some of her unsold oil paintings back, as long as she accepted their invitation to dinner. Wisely unwilling to manoeuvre her life's work back on the bus, Cindy had accepted the generous offer. When the gallery owner's son Ryan emerged to help Cindy carry her paintings to the mini-van, Barney had swiftly moved into gear and made clear there was room for all if Ryan was also in need of refreshment that evening. The young man had of course accepted and was clearly thrilled with the opportunity to spend some more time with Cindy and her paintings, now safely strapped into the boot of the minivan. Once they arrived back at Barney and Diane's townhouse, it had become clear Ryan couldn't get enough of Cindy, who was pretty delighted with his presence in return.

Alistair often marvelled at how smoothly Barney and Diane operated with younger people. If anybody else had attempted to set up the scenarios this couple master planned, they would be considered sleazy; coercive even. Yet, there was something about the two of them, now in their late 60s, that put people both at ease, but also somehow desperate to please, the intriguing power couple. Perhaps Alistair himself had felt that way a long time ago, when he and his late wife had first met Diane and Barney.

A mere two or three hours after meeting Barney and Diane for the first time Ryan was now spreadeagled, naked on the Turkish rug that graced the front room of this magnificent town house. Cindy, knees hugging the side of his head, buttocks on his chest and vulva pressed into his lips, was on top of him.

Alistair had wondered if he might ever have the opportunity to fuck Diane again on his way over, but had pushed back this wistful wish as he remembered that hadn't happened in years since his wife had died. It was no fun being a widowed swinger, he thought to himself, what did you have to offer? As clothes had been shed between the dining room and the living room, he had allowed himself the fleeting wistful wish that perhaps Cindy herself might avail herself of the services of a more experienced man. However, as Cindy crouched on top of the unbridledly joyous Ryan, and Diane's familiar hand wrapped around his cock, Alistair realised Diane was exactly what he needed tonight. Let's not pretend the old boy always reacted like it used to, and a woman who understood his sensitive spots, and that he might need a bit more pressure, started to seem increasingly tempting as the unexpected visual delights of the evening spread out before him.

He had managed to stifle a small gasp when Cindy had eased her white, satin knickers down over her hips to expose a fluffy, ripe bush sprouting between her legs. He had believed that young women these days were all disappointingly bald down below. That was one reason he didn't really tend to bother with women outside of his own generation. Younger women thought a good healthy bush was unclean and dirty, and their grooming regimes extended to between their legs, he had heard. It was a shame, he thought, his first interactions with pussy had intimately tickled his fingers, his chin, his nose and his lips in a way that thrilled him to his core. In his day, you had to delve into the thicket to find the holy of holies; it wasn't stripped bare. Where was the fun in that? He was pretty sure younger women these days were missing out on their gentleman friends being forced to use more than their eyes to discover the most intimate shapes of a new lover.

It was the stirring in his cock he felt when he first saw the thick red curls adorning Cindy's mons, that had initially encouraged him to join the others in stripping off, alongside the young couple who clearly only had eyes for each other. Ryan had the joyous privilege of unbuttoning Cindy's paint-stained jeans and tugging them as hard as he could over her hips. He had done this sat up in the middle of the rug as she stood over him. Helping her pull them off over her feet, now her thighs were free to spread. His already tumescent cock twitched, desperate for Cindy to put him out of his misery and plant her bushy wet cunt on it. This clever, girl had other ideas, however. She planted her feet firmly next to his shoulders and started to pull off her knickers, revealing the bouncy bush that had so beguiled Alistair.

Diane and Barney had also shed their clothes in a comradely fashion, and Diane's bush sat mere inches from his thigh. Her cunt was as beautiful as ever, but Cindy's mystical, young hairy pussy had him mesmerised. Playfully, softly, he mirrored Diane's squeeze by resting his hand on her bouncy pubes, stroking and teasing as she alternated tightening her fist around his cock, with allowing his swelling member room to breath and grow. This firm pulsation took him from pizza dough-soft and stretchy, to mozzarella-bouncy firmness surprisingly quickly. These days he didn't often get much harder than that and was pleased his cock had agreed to play along this evening. Muscle memory, from Diane's diligent hands, perhaps?

Ryan looked taken aback as Cindy lowered her juicy cunt onto his mouth, but it was clear the boy knew what to do. He ran his flat tongue from her cunt to her clit firmly, five, six, seven, maybe eight times. Paused. And then did it again. And again. His hands moved from her thighs and hips up to her spectacularly pert tits, cupping and stroking them and finally tweaking her nipples as they heaved with her increasingly deepening breaths. She started to rock the front of her vulva into his mouth and onto his strong, lapping tongue. She felt his undulating tongue, soft and tickly at first, magically shift her from an earthly being into a melting mermaid.

Alistair was so mesmerised by her grinding her clit onto the eager tongue below it, that he had barely noticed Diane quicken the pace of her fist on his cock. He was now harder than he had been for quite a while and enjoyed the heavy, swollen sensation in his cock and balls that he had been unaccustomed to of late.

Cindy had clearly been taken expertly into second gear by Ryan, and his indefatigable mouth. Her eyes had now closed as she rocked, as rhythmically as a ticking clock against his mouth. "Suck it" she moaned, her lips barely moving. Ryan moved his head slightly forward and Alistair could see his tongue curling around her barely perceptible clit as he started to draw her in. Cindy shuddered as juices from her cunt gushed down into her new lover's welcoming throat.

Alaistair was torn between focusing on the pubes he had been so surprised to see on Cindy brushing against Ryan's top lip, or Cindy's gasping body start to tense from the thighs up. He longed to be under her beautiful cunt with its pert clit in his own mouth and felt some pain as he remembered how long it had been since he last felt a young woman's pubes against his lips. He imagined the sensation of her tensing, spasming thighs against his ears and realised his own breath had quickened. His balls felt heavy, and he became acutely aware of each firm stroke Diane delivered up and down his own cock. She was rubbing his foreskin up over his bellend, and making sure her thumb rubbed that sweet spot to the side of his frenulum on the way up and down. A little extra pressure on the right side. She hadn't forgotten. She was going quite fast and he was surprised to realise he felt like a teenager, starting to worry he might arrive a bit too soon. A rare problem these days, and one that right now, he was pretty ambivalent about. He wondered how aware the young couple were of the older threesome around them, they certainly didn't seem to mind but he would have been surprised if they had done this before. Particularly with a bunch of old hippie swingers like them!

Cindy started to sink deeper and deeper on Ryan's face as he licked, sucked and circled away. Don't stop thought Alistair to himself, as he saw Cindy wasn't much further off than he was. If only he could hold off a little longer, he could focus on watching that beautiful cunt burst. She began to breathe so deeply Alistair realised she was starting to gasp. Ryan god bless him, kept his tongue firm and at the same fast, steady pace that had got Cindy this far.

A deep gutteral moan rolled out of her as she started to grind her hips further and further forward and deeper into Ryan's mouth. Alistair was slightly worried about Ryan's ability to breath, but it became clear he didn't need to breathe through his ears for much longer. The moan turned into a pant, which quickened into a piercing scream. Cindy roared as her cunt and thighs spasmed against Ryan's face. Though she shook all over from her shoulders to her shins, her hips remained in a fixed grinding rhythm against his eager mouth. Ryan could feel her cunt spasm rhythmically against his lips, accompanied by a wetness that made each twitch remind him of a wave crashing against the soft sands on the shore, a sensation which travelled down his body to his own leaking cock. The scream mellowed into a few shouts as the final couple of wretched spasms moved from her stomach down to her thighs, and she slowly realised her legs were shaking uncontrollably.

Ryan slowed his tongue to avoid overstimulating her, but carried on slowly and firmly to squeeze out the last couple of aftershocks, which rolled through her as she remained gasping on her knees.

Diane having slowed to allow Alistair more time to enjoy the spectacle he was so clearly enjoying, now showed no mercy as she gripped the end of Alistair's steel-hard cock and pumped his foreskin up and down with more vigour than he had done himself as a teenager. He tried to convince himself that as an old man he was going to need a bit more than that to get off, but soon enough he was feeling that familiar gripping sensation rising up in his thighs, through his balls and he could see no reason to fight it. Breathing deep and focusing on the explosion threatening to rip through his throbbing cock due to Diane's diligent wrist action, he relaxed and allowed the rising orgasm to blast through his lower body. He could feel the first tightenings through his balls, then his thighs, then he felt himself gasping, his eyes red and watering and thick, hot white ribbons of cum burning their way down his shaft. Jesus, he couldn't remember the last time he had worried he might make a mess on the sofa.

Luckily, Diane was one step ahead of him. She had dropped her head to place her lips over his third eye and was now carefully sealing her lips half way down his shaft as she swallowed a third and final creamy spurt, before swirling her tongue over his bell end, now so sensitive it burned, to clean up the last of the evidence. You would have thought an artist would have enjoyed the visual, but no, Diane enjoyed the taste.

Raising her head from his lap, she gave Alistair a soft smirk and sank back into her husband's tumescing lap. A surprise laugh rose through Alistair, as he threw his head back in a throaty laugh. "Thank you, thank you," he said addressing Cindy and Ryan, who were quiet and still, lying on the floor. Ryan beamed back, his arms still firmly around her and Cindy smiled coyly. "Honestly, you have made an old man very happy," said Alistair, sighing contentedly. Cum drunk, he rose up and made his way over to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a whiskey. "Drink anyone?" he asked. He had a feeling the evening wasn't over yet.

An invitation to dinner Pt. 02

Coming next time....