Beneficially HIS Ch. 02

Author's Note: This is a sequel to my first story, Beneficially HIS. I would hope that you've read that first to know how the story has gone to this point.

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Ouch! Damned sun's bright this morning.

My brain was void after such a deep sleep but finally found its BIOS.

Hmm. Was it a dream? A puddle of red lingerie on the floor…hmmm, I wonder… yes, my pussy's shaved. Eww! And a little sticky. Well, a shower will fix that. Better yet, a bath. Sssstretch. Oh! My butt's kinda sore.

Nope, definitely not a dream!

What was that down-home expression George had picked up on one of his travels? Oh yeah, "grinning like a jack-ass with a mouthful o' briars." That's me alright.

And where is that wonderfully kinky bastard? I need to give him a real big thank you hug for bringing me to life. The other side of the bed's empty. So he's up, but he always was an early riser. I don't know how he can perpetually survive on six hours' sleep. Normally I need a good eight, but after last night…what time is it anyway? Judging from the sun, at least nine. Oh, almost ten.

Wow, I'm thirsty. Gotta pee too. Well, all I've had to drink since yesterday afternoon was a few glasses of champagne. That explains a lot. Love the stuff, but could do without the diuretic effect.

Okay, slowly now; my legs are rubber. Who's in charge here anyway? Walk damnit!

Ahhh, that's a relief! But I'm going to avoid sitting on any hard chairs today. Time to wash up a bit. What the fuck? Who's THAT in the mirror? All the smudged makeup, what a mess! Dun–da-da-da! Make-up remover to the rescue.

The water's cold, but feels really good on my face. Dry off and brush those mittens off my teeth. Mmm, minty fresh. Despite brushing out my hair, it's still a bit wild. Perversely appropriate, wouldn't you say?

Turning, I glimpse myself in the full length mirror on the back of the door.

Damn! Having a shaved pussy's gonna take some getting used to in more ways than one.

Exiting the bath, I nearly collide with George, who had just entered the bedroom bearing a teak tray laden with ice water, mugs, a thermos of coffee, our pewter milk and sugar set and a glass bud vase holding one of the roses he had brought home the previous evening.

What a sweetheart!

"Whoa! Slow down lady!" he said playfully.

I'm not the only suffering from smiling jack-ass syndrome and his hair was a tousled mess too. But that robe has got to go. Plain cotton, striped in various shades of grey. Boring! Mental note: get something sexier, maybe in black satin. I think I'd like that.

"You must have read my mind," I reply as I plucked one of the glasses and greedily drank it down, nonstop. A few drops escaped the corners of my lips, ran off my chin and onto my breasts, sending a refreshing chill through my body, tightening my nipples.

"And good morning to you too!" he retorted.

"Sorry, honey, but I was just dieing of thirst. Isn't it a wonderful morning?"

"The best." He held out the tray for me to return my glass, set it on my low dresser opposite the foot of the bed, wheeled and pulled me into his arms.

We kissed tenderly, our tongues engaging in light caresses, and all too soon he broke it off.

"How about some coffee?" he asked.

"Is that all you're offering?"

"For now, I'd like to talk a little bit about last night."

"What's there to say? It was incredible!"

"Well, I guess I was afraid that in the cold light of day, you might have changed your mind or had second thoughts."

I set my coffee on the night stand, played with some pillows to support my back and laid back on the bed. George shed his robe and did likewise, snuggling up next to me.

"Well, there is one thing I would change," I told him.

"Oh?" There was some concern in his voice.

"I can't go with that ‘Yes sir, no sir' stuff. At least not all the time."

George sighed in relief. "That's okay with me. It could easily get overdone. I'll leave it up to you for when you think it's appropriate."

"Yes sir," I replied while that stupid grin returned.

George pressed closer to me as we finished our coffee. Nothing was spoken, nor was it necessary. For the first time in ages, we were comfortable just being together.

But that wasn't all that changed. It was kinda funny. Not funny Ha-Ha and not funny-strange, more like funny-unexpected in the way other parts of our lives changed in the months that followed. All for the better, I might add.

Although George was spending more time at home, his business actually grew. He said the new-found confidence he had made him more decisive and productive. He'd hired some more people, and even spoke of possibly needing a partner because he didn't want to go back to the long hours that the expansion would eventually demand.

We both got serious about our physical conditioning too. Not obsessive, mind you; more like wanting to be the best we could for each other. Okay, so it was probably wanting more stamina, but who wouldn't? I got my pubes lasered and, yes, there was some discomfort involved, but it was so worth it not to have to deal with the razor any more.

We started going out more; not so much for meals, but more like when we were first dating. You know, movies, picnics in a local park, day trips to see things we'd only ever talked about doing. Even simple stuff like home improvements seemed less tedious.

George was always a decent cook and had often made dinner on the weekends, but now he really dove into it and said he found it very erotic to make something special for the woman he loved. Who was I to argue?

It really didn't matter what we did. By the end of the day we couldn't keep our hands off of each other. Alright, it wasn't always at the end of the day. So sue me.

Sometimes it was slow and tender. But most often, I was his slut to use at his (and my) pleasure. I'd never thought that I'd love anal so much, especially when I'd lay at the edge of bed while George stood holding my legs high and wide. "Finger that clit! Come for me. Show me how much you love my cock in your ass!"

Oops. Got a little sidetracked there. Now where was I?

Well, in case you're wondering, yes, I did get back to keeping the house in order. Not that I was Felix Unger or anything, but I didn't leave any messes about, unless, of course I was looking for a little discipline. George caught on to this trick pretty quick and I'm not sure if he enjoyed giving me a spanking more than I did receiving them, but I wasn't going to over-analyze it.

We were really enjoying life and it was obvious to everyone. Even my sewing group noticed the new glint in my eyes. I mean, Jane already knew. (I'd called her with the news that very first day of my new life.) But even my mom and her friends commented on the change. Jane just gave me a sly smile. I think I must have blushed as the older ladies exchanged knowing "hmm's." If they even knew half the truth!

Whenever Jane or I hosted, we'd hang out with each other after the others left. Sometimes it was just to catch up a bit on places we'd been or movies we'd seen. But most times we'd compare notes on sex and something new we might have tried.

It started a couple weeks after I had accepted my new role as George's slut (or Thatday, as we came to refer to it). It was Jane's first turn to host since Thatday, and she kind of demanded that I give her the blow by blow (so to speak) account. At first, it felt weird recounting the story, but I found that if I closed my eyes it was easier not only to speak, but also to picture the events and provide all the details Jane wanted to hear.

Damn, I was horny by the time we parted! My guess is Jane was too, looking like she'd put pencil erasers in her bra.

The next week was my turn to host, so after the others had left, I told her it was only fair that she tell me about her "coming out." Images of Jane's freshly spanked ass, wet pussy and nipples bulging in the loops of the connecting chain left me aching and lingered through the day, even popping into my mind with a somewhat disturbing regularity during the days that followed.

From then on, it became somewhat of a ritual. As our hosting schedule worked, we had a three week hiatus before we could share more escapades. In one sense that was good, cause it gave time for us to think about what we would tell, but I had also gotten addicted to it and eagerly anticipated my next "fix."

Last week, I was sitting on the sofa at Jane's, sipping on a glass of wine, something we'd added to our story time. We'd found it made it easier (and more fun) to reveal intimate details while having a glass or two.

So, last week, she'd told me about Bill teaching her to deep throat. He'd tied her to the bed. Nothing new there, but he left her head hanging over the edge.

Jane is about my height but with blonde hair and a larger frame. Not quite Rubenesque, but "Prime Polish breeding stock," was how she'd laughingly describe herself. I could see Jane, spread eagled, her large breasts, rising, falling and jiggling with her ragged breathing. Her full hips undulating as Bill stood at her head, teasing and lightly spanking her with a riding crop, bringing a rosy hue to her breasts and a straining firmness to her nipples.

Jane took a large swallow from her wine, draining the glass. Taking the chilled bottle of Pinot Griggio from the insulator on the coffee table, she refilled her glass. ‘That's her third,' I thought somewhat absently, but figured she didn't need to drive, so why not?

The bat played lightly across her dirty blonde pubes, coaxing her dewy lips to spread; much as Bill's hard cock persuaded her mouth to open. Gently tapping and rubbing her pussy, the tip of the crop glistened, increasing the sting when it occasionally flicked across her nipples.

I watched Jane intently; her closed eyelids fluttered, hand squeezing the armrest, hips rotating in a slow, almost imperceptible oscillation, while I couldn't stop the rhythmic clenching in my thighs.

As the ministrations of the crop intensified, her hips rose to meet the leather now sliding smoothly over her slick lips, flinching with each slap of the leather on her clit that forced Bill's cock deeper into her mouth. Jane admitted it wasn't easy – as if she had to tell me; no matter how much I tried, I had yet overcome my gag reflex – but her desperation for release drove her on and soon enough Bill was working his entire cock in and out of her mouth.

Actually, I didn't care that much whether Jane succeeded or not. My mind was focused on Jane writhing under the teasing, rubbing and slapping of the crop. And all too soon, for me anyway, Bill came and then allowed Jane to climax as well.

Jane ended her reverie and looked at me. "Whew!" she said, exhaling deeply and followed by another slug of wine. "I really got into that one! I hope it doesn't bother you."

I blushed under her gaze and had to look away as an image of Jane sitting naked in the chair before me filled my mind. "Umm, no," I said a bit awkwardly, snatching up my wine. My turn for a hefty swallow that left the glass empty. As if that would tame the racing of my heart!

"More wine?" she asked, reaching for the bottle.

"No, thanks." I replied, touching her arm to stop her. She felt incredibly warm, almost hot. Flustered, I withdrew my hand and stood unsteadily, but managed to right myself in short order after a couple of deep breaths.

"You wouldn't think I had only one glass of wine," I lamely joked, "but I should be going."

I didn't really have anywhere I needed to be. George wouldn't be home for a few hours yet, but I had an urgent need for some fresh air. And time to think.

"Sure," she said, but the disappointment was clearly evident. "But before you go I want to ask you something. You know it's my birthday next weekend."

"Well, duh, of course, I do. I've already got your present, silly. You gonna have a party?" I asked.

It struck me as odd, when she replied in a conspiratorial whisper, "Well, that's what I wanted to ask you. Bill and I hoped that you and George would come down on Saturday and celebrate. You know, just the four of us for a romantic dinner."

Slightly confused by the sudden change in topic, I replied haltingly, "We're free,… so, yes, we'll be there….. I know George wants to see Bill. They don't see much of each other since George left the company to start his own business. What time?"

"Come around six. We'll have some drinks and munchies before…umm… dinner."

"Okay. That sounds nice." I tried to reply matter-of-factly, but felt like I was missing something. Once again Jane had put my mind in knots. I nervously glanced at my watch; it was almost three and I blurted out, "Oh shit! Look at the time. I've gotta run."

Jane walked with me to the door and as she opened it, said, "I'm so glad you guys are coming for my birthday. I'm really looking forward to it!"

"So am I. Is there anything I can bring?"

The whisper returned as she suddenly gave me a big hug. "Not really. Just an open mind."

It wasn't a best friend hug. Oh no, her body, especially her breasts, pressed a little too firmly into mine for that. It felt strange. I mean, no woman had ever held me like that, so I felt awkward, realizing how good it felt. Was I imagining things, or did I feel her erect nipples poking at mine, and, stranger still, their response in kind?

Just as suddenly, she released me to leave me in a bewildered state, mulling over her intentions.

"So I'll see you next week," she continued in her normal tone. "It's your turn to host, right?"

Nonplussed, I mechanically stammered, "R-right. It's my turn." And as I hustled out the door in a mild panic, "See you Wednesday. Bye."

As I drove home, I replayed the farewell in my mind.

You imagined it…..Well then, what was that bit about an open mind? ....And…and…why did it feel so real….and so good?'

Damn it Jane! Why do you do these things to me? First you help me find the slut that lurked inside me and now you've got me wondering what it might be like to have sex with a woman. I'm certainly grateful for the first, but could I really…? I don't know. Maybe. I've tried so many things I never thought I'd do. Stop squirming! That's not gonna help you think.

And, Jesus, what'll George think about it? Just what I need, more complications! Maybe he'll be against it and that'll solve the whole affair. Somehow I doubt it. But I know I've got to tell him. We've come too far and went through too much to hide this from him. Just gotta wait for the right time.

Well, by the time we got into bed that night, I knew I'd burst if I didn't tell him. As he pulled my naked body next to his and went to kiss me, I interrupted his advances.

"George, there's something I've got to tell you."

But it wasn't easy. I beat around the bush for a while and just started by telling him of the birthday dinner. He thought that would be great. He didn't get to see Bill much anymore. They had worked together for over five years at the place where Bill still worked and had become friends from the start. That's how Jane and I met.

I guess you'd call them both computer experts, I mean I don't know that much about what they do or how they did it, but Bill's company made special custom security systems for large manufacturing plants that kept an eye on sensitive or hazardous areas. When George left the company to start his own, he applied a lot of what he'd learned to make the same kind of stuff, but for smaller local companies, like warehouses and small businesses.

Sorry, I didn't mean to babble on, but that's kind of what I was doing with George.

Finally, I did get around to Jane's farewell. Not just what she said, I also confessed to the strange feelings I had. Okay, maybe strange, but being turned on by it was certainly novel and I couldn't stop the twitchiness I felt between my thighs.

I was relieved for having told him, but George wasn't much help. At least in terms of what I wanted to hear. He had no doubts that Jane was interested in me, but it had to be my decision. He would go along with whatever it was.

Bullshit! For all of his diplomacy, the swelling of his cock against my leg gave away his true feelings.

"I think your other head knows what he wants me to do," I joked as I took his cock in my hand.

"Guilty as charged!" he retorted with a smile. "And you?"

George slid his hand between my legs and there was no doubting the evidence.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," he carried on as he held up his slick fingers, "as you can see this woman is a wanton slut and guilty of conspiring to commit cunnilingus. The prosecution demands immediate commencement of the sentence!"

George threw back the covers and practically jumped between my thighs. He planted his mouth on my cunt, frantically sucking in my lips and aggressively pressing his tongue on my clit.

Gasping, my hips rose and my knees jerked at his sudden onslaught.

Good god! Don't stop!

I didn't care that I fantasized it was Jane's tongue working the magic instead of George's. Obviously, he wasn't worried about it either when an "Oh, Jane!" slipped out.

"Confess! You want Jane to lick your pussy," George hissed as he raised his head so his tongue teasingly flicked across my lips.

My hands reached to pull him closer, but failed. I wasn't sure exactly how he did it, but he grabbed my wrists, pinched my hips between his elbows and used the leverage to roll us over. The next thing I know, I'm sitting on his chest with my thighs on either side of his head.

George brought my wrists together behind my back, tightly encircling them with his left hand.

Smack! His right hand stung my ass.

"Confess!" he growled.

I was silent, but only momentarily, as George lifted me and slid his face between my thighs. Once again, his tongue flicked ever so lightly across my sopping pussy, cyclically pausing to spank my ass and demand my confession.

"Oh god, yes!"

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I confess, goddammit. I want Jane to eat my cunt!"

George pressed his mouth to me and aggressively tongued my clit. Releasing my hands, his took hold of my nipples, roughly pinching and pulling them. I fell forward with delirium, and, catching my weight with my arms, pressed my cunt to his face, grinding against his tongue, my orgasm an overwhelming mixture of reality and fantasy.

Gasping, I fell to my elbows while George eased out from under me.

"Ahhh," I shrieked when George playfully bit my ass and, as if he had removed a keystone, I collapsed on my tummy. He laughed and rolled me onto my back, his mouth seeking mine, the taste of my essence extraordinarily poignant, while his erection jabbed at me insistently.

Slowly, I broke off the kiss and scooted around to lie with my head hanging over the edge.

"Please, sir, fuck my mouth."

….but to this day I still haven't beaten that gag reflex.