Dual Quads and Gizmo Sex

"I really don't know quite where to start..." began Jerry.

She cut him off, smiling. "Baloney! Of course you do! You're no bleeding amateur or virgin, neither am I. You might begin with a lot more kissing -- you already know how much I like that, and you're really quite good at it! Then the logical progression is for you to pick me up, carry me to the bed, lay me down and undress me -- preferably very slowly, with huge quantities of touching... and then we can fuck. If we're as compatible as I think, we'll probably make love rather than merely fucking - but I wouldn't tell our partners that. Certainly not at first. Maybe not ever -- depends on the Green-Eyed Monster quotient that surfaces."

She grinned at him: "Big virtual hug right now, from me to you. Of course, while we fuck you'll be doing most of the work and I'll be getting most of the benefit, but..."

"Baloney yourself!" said Jerry. "I expect to benefit fully as much as you do!"

Jerry picked her up after a very long kiss. He did the "quad-lift-and-carry" correctly -- asked for advice, followed it perfectly, got one hand under the base of her skull to support her head -- something she didn't need but appreciated. She was impressed at both his strength and delicacy -- her Bob, weightlifter that he was, had no problem with her mass, and it had flitted briefly across her mind that just possibly Jerry might -- he was so differently built. As he lifted her easily, he kissed across her eyelids and nose, and said "You're heavier than I thought. Small. Beautiful, small -- but solid!"

"Probably because I've got bigger boobs than your wife. I hope you'll like them -- they're by far my best feature."

She watched as he slowly did a strip for her, an arousal-generator she enjoyed but didn't need in the least -- she was utterly taken with his body, runner-lean and long in all directions, so different from Bob's thick-muscled stockiness. Jerry had a beautiful cock, smoothly curved, bare-headed, cantilevered out before him like those of the pan-piping satyrs on old Etruscan drinking vessels. 'Cocky' is a good word for that thing's attitude, she thought briefly. It bounced and swayed nicely with his pulse and movements, its obvious solidity giving unequivocal evidence of her effects on him. That pleased her immensely.

He leaned over her, very slowly began to undo the buttons. Half-way down he muttered "I think I can get these right this time. Depending on whether I still can concentrate on anything at all! Other than on what I'm uncovering, that is."

He slid onto the bed beside her, she settled into herself mentally, to enjoy the contact. Jerry was fully expert in handling inert bodies, so no tentativeness spoiled things. He took special pleasure in long, slow, thorough explorations as he slowly rolled and lifted to remove her dress. His every touch was a vague echo of Bob's -- not better, just very different in timing, intensities, sequences, nuances. Yes, her arm had to be lifted to free it from the clothing, but how differently it could be done by different men!

And emotion, too! He explained with serious moisture in his eyes how much it meant to see her actively enjoying his touch -- feedback unavailable from his wife, something he'd missed all these years.

At her suggestion he slid a pillow under her hips, turned her slightly on the bed so that she could see them clearly in the mirror when she wished. It took only moments to arrange her comfortably, no bedspread wrinkles or body-kinks. Her body was still in reasonably good shape, no heavy wasting of muscles yet. Beautiful skin, fine-textured and anything but pasty -- obviously there was a sunlamp in her life, for as he released her lovely breasts from their captivity and leaned over to begin nursing, there wasn't a suit-line to be seen.

He explored her slowly, covering every square centimeter of her body, soles and toes to earlobes and scalp, to her infinite delight. His touches repeatedly raised crops of goose-bumps. Then, at her request he carefully presented his own surfaces and crevasses and protrusions to her face for her to explore, so that she could return the favor thoroughly. He rotated, slid back alongside her, revisited her breasts which were now hard as fists and seemed almost to glow with need. He nipped, licked and sucked, she squealed and shivered.

And she came hard as he added fingertips playing slow gentle riffs atop the soaking-wet nylon of her crotch-panel. She waited a few seconds, then ordered the panties removed. They slid down and disappeared effortlessly. He was delighted to find her clean-shaven, not a hair anywhere below her shoulders, and he spent long minutes properly administering to her clit and lips, then her pits, told her she was wrong, that her best feature wasn't her breasts -- although they were exquisite -- it was her naked and utterly entrancing crotch, his favorite bit of female anatomy.

He meant it, and she could tell. And he volunteered that Bob's very nice efforts notwithstanding, he would like to occasionally be her barber himself: the idea twanged other emotional and physical chords.

Far into a string of climaxes that seemed to stretch to the horizon, she demanded that he enter her NOW, it was time to quit worrying exclusively about HER pleasure. She gave detailed instructions, face to face was a must at least to start, she wanted to watch him as he came. And he wasn't to hold back, either!

It was complicated to set himself up where he could thrust properly and at the same time hold her in the position she wanted, with him kneeling between her wide-veed thighs and holding her calves in the air with his arms hooked beneath them.

The experimentation needed was a joyous and wondrous thing in and of itself. When everything was correctly aligned and balanced, he drove into her at the pace and intensity she asked for, until finally she told him to just let himself go, told him he could use whatever opening he wished, and in whatever manner.

When finally he came in huge gasping spasms, it was with tears down his cheeks and she understood, demanded that since she couldn't hug HIM the way he obviously needed, he had to do it for them both, and kissed him nonstop through his descent and into his landing.

Down the long hall, in the Playroom, Bob was nervous -- he wasn't sure that everything --or maybe even ANYthing - he knew about handling Jeannie was right for this new situation, since Gisela's body didn't provide any input to her brain for use to generate feedback. Despite his concerns he carried a full cockstand in his trousers -- he was excruciatingly ready.

He voiced his reservations, but they faded as Gisela provided well-rehearsed lifting instructions. Like Jerry, Bob did the lift-and-carry well. Gisela was not surprised, but rather seriously excited at the ease with which he handled her. Jerry could do it just fine, but these new massive weightlifter-muscles practically didn't know she was there, and Bob could obviously have simply thrown her bodily across the room. His strength gave her a funny mixture of angst and security. She hoped he could take other instructions as well.

He could, and did. Bob stripped her exquisitely slowly, and studied her body as it was revealed, kissing as close to nonstop as he could manage and still make comments and tell her she was attractive. He paid particular attention to the gentle swelling of her belly, explaining that this would be his first-ever session with a pregnant woman, and that 'pregnant-sex' woman had, for some reason, been a long-standing fantasy of his. She enjoyed his fascination, so clearly reflected in the mirrors, and appreciated the commentary. Carefully he explored and nursed on her sensitive breast, two fingers fully in her mouth and under phenomenal oral-suction massage, until suddenly she muttered "BITE!" as her mouth convulsed -- she swallowed most of the fingers, and when he clamped her nipple in his teeth -hard!- she came immediately and violently, her head rolling and bouncing, throat milking firmly on his fingers.

He removed his hand so she could breathe unimpeded -- for a minute she lay there sucking in air in post-orgasm gallons, grinning happily and unable to speak.

Finally she managed: "WOW! Wow, wow, Wowee Kazowee! My GOD, but I guess I needed THAT, didn't I? That, in case you're interested, was my first-ever orgasm with another man since my accident -- so between the stroll and just now, I guess you just collected some sort of a cherry. And frankly, it was superb! Incredibly intense. I think I nearly passed out. Bet you my BP is up a bit! Now, Mister Bob, it's going to be YOUR turn, so here's what we do. You have to catch up by getting yourself butt-nekkid. But let's get me positioned right first..."

Per directions, he propped her up slightly on pillows so she had the mirrors in easy sight, then at her insistence he did a slow-motion strip. He was delighted at the obvious pleasure she got from watching -- it had taken a long time for him to admit to himself that being watched turned him on enormously. His wife had understood immediately, and just enjoyed it, never pointing out that body-building is a narcissistic and exhibitionist art by definition, so no wonder he got turned on. Now, Gisela was taken with Bob's body at least as much as Jeannie was with Jerry's, a completely different visual aesthetic from Jerry's physique, attractive in its own right, an unusual grace of motion carrying the mass smoothly and very sexily, almost like a big cat. And he had an absolutely stunning, partly circumcised cock, a very different color and shape and texture from Jerry's, with heavy twisting dark veins that reminded her of details in Michelangelo's studies of workmen's hands.

She complimented him, told him he was beautiful, that his cock made her mouth water. He grinned and waved it at her, told her that he was horny beyond belief, that it was after all entirely her fault, she'd have to fix it somehow, they'd better get started, and he needed instructions. ASAP!

She gave them. "Well, Mister Big-Muscled Bob, since you've already experienced a deep-squat BJ in The Notch - a little bird told me so - you can drag me around until we get my head over the corner of the bed and dangling down just right -- which means so that I can breathe without any effort, and my mouth and throat are all lined up for you."

She grinned lewdly at him, then lost it into a giggle. "Now that I've seen you properly, I suspect I can handle you just fine -- but the first time, we'll use the slippery-lube from the tube in the little hanging box on the headboard, just to be sure. You straddle my face and let me play lip-and-tongue games with your balls and all those other sensitive places before we start the real fucking, and then you'll get yours, via deep-throating. Once we get going, you should just come when you finally must, go in as deep as you wish, it's a very special thing for me. Makes me feel powerful, and your coming will usually trigger mine, and that makes my throat pulse and THAT can't be all bad for you. Oh and by the way, there is NO DAMNED HURRY!"

"And how do we keep you from suffocating, Miz Quad fellatrice?" he asked.

Her voice changed from banter to serious, and he switched to note-taking mode mentally.

"Bob, really now, this is important. You have to be completely aware and in control of yourself, or we could do some damage. Even when you come, some bit of your brain has to remain functional and connected to my situation, not just to your cock. I can hold my breath a good long while, well over a minute the first time in a session, but with each stroke you have to slide out far enough so your cock-head is at least against the back of my incisors. That lets me take a good deep breath with every stroke, so go at a reasonably slow pace. If I nip you with my teeth it means to pull out all the way and we need a confab. I'll probably hyperventilate, because I know that when you come you're going to be all the way down my throat for about forty-five seconds or more."

She grinned happily up at him as he stepped into position, then she finished up with "There's one more thing -- if I either actually BITE you, and I mean HARD, or if I gag even a little, you STOP and pull out. Immediately, or even sooner. That isn't likely, but it's critical. You can't say to yourself "Just one more stroke will be okay!" because it WON'T be okay. Understood? Agreed?"

He understood, agreed.

He found out in the first minute that she was simply superb. She wasn't in a hurry herself, either. Played foreplay-mouth-games with his testicles in ways he'd never experienced, did things with her tongue-tip in places he didn't know he had places much less nerves, all the while having him stroke himself slowly, manually, at a rhythm and intensity she commanded.

He found that he could regain a bit of control, at least momentarily, by concentrating outside himself, applying judicious little self-distracting tweaks and twists and pinches to her functional nipple and underarm and the soft curves of her breast. He plotted the outline of her sensory area, traced the borderline and made her gasp.

Minutes passed, foreplay ceased, the lubricant came out and the real experiment began. They worked together far, far better than either expected: the sensations from her throat were boggling to them both. She had superb muscular control - her milkings and the tension of his pose, half a deep-squat with long, slow, interrupted thrusting, drove him to the brink unusually fast. The little gust of warm outgoing breath over his balls and shaft at the end of each outward stroke, the gasp of ingoing air whose end he used as a signal to start the next long inrush of his cock, were monumental and unexpected turn-ons.

Then, just as he was about to begin a serious drive to come, she nipped once, gently. He instantly stopped, pulled completely out, looked worriedly down at her, wondering what he'd done wrong.

But she was grinning, her lips and chin wet and glistening: "I just thought you ought to know how fucking totally turned on I am right now! So, M'sieur, if you're ready, I'd like very much for you to just go for your own orgasm -- we fit perfectly, we coordinate nicely, and it'll be okay. More than OKAY! I think that I'm going to come again when you do, if I can time it right. But IMMEDIATELY after you come, no matter what state I'm in, you have to pull out and let me breathe. The one thing you really, really cannot do is simply drive in full length and SOAK. I'd love it, but it won't work. In and out, YES -- linger inside, NO! Get to work, now!"

He came with an intensity that certainly startled, and very nearly scared, him, long thick heavy jets far down in the reaches of her throat, her muscles squeezing his cock just the way they had his fingers. Four, five jets, and then reluctantly, smoothly, he slipped himself fully out.

She gasped long and hard twice, three, four, then raised her head to lick along the big underside vein, dropped her head back down and told him "Quick -- I'm almost there -- you're still nice and hard, give me ten of your best, nonstop, all the way out each time and then right back, and let ME worry about air. Okay? I'll bite if necessary, believe me! Do it!"

He did. Her breathing sounded like a locomotive, a sharp, deep, explosive chuffing. Her climax hit at about number three, and continued until he finished the full ten and slid out, stepped away, turned, took her weight in his arms and slid her fully back up and onto the bed, where he joined her and nursed on her live nipple until she alit.

When her breathing had regulated, he rolled to put them face-to-face, separated by an unfocusable three inches of mingled, moist exhaled air. "Did I do it right?" he asked, grinning at her.

"Oh yeah, Yessir, that worked, it truly did. Amen, and how." Then after another few breaths it was "We have lots and LOTS of time for encores and other versions. If you wish. After a bit we could get you into the notch and onto one of our little toys -- if you could be interested. I certainly could be!"

She paused, giggled mostly to herself and whispered "Want to know a secret?"

He nodded.

"You have a truly wonderful cock for this style of fucking -- it fits perfectly, and the programming is perfect. Quite a different set of sensations from my other option. It wouldn't be right to say 'better' -- what's one to do with a pair of 10s that happen to come wrapped in different styles, anyhow? But for certain DAMN GOOD, and all-in-all quite different. Vive le difference! And your come is different, too -- really different. I guess I knew it might be, intellectually that is, but wow -- completely new flavor, and texture, and quantity from Jerry." She smacked her lips at him happily. He got a warm washcloth, cleaned her face, then followed her directions for getting her back into the chair and properly strapped down -- nude this time.

Her belly protruded: he patted it, muttered "Lovely -- Wish we could, too. Like Jeannie says, damn her mangled DNA anyhow."

They wheeled over to the notch, and Gisela said "Let's look through the inventory of toys and see if anything appeals. Assuming you're capable of a couple more, which I certainly am. Capable of and in need of, both. Carpe diem, Sir."

He was both interested and capable.

She was a very good teacher.

Almost two hours later they were lying in bed again, under a big, white terry-cloth blanket, talking while he provided intensive cuddling. Into the comfortable arrangement HAL spoke: "Sorry to intrude, but I have a four-part query from the other bedroom. They wonder if you two are (a) decent at the moment, (b) satisfied for the moment, and if so then (c) would you be receptive to some company, so that (d) you can discuss dinner and other plans. If your answer is yes to all four questions, I am to tell them so, and then they will come down here, and I will enable them to open your door. What is your answer?"

Bob waggled his eyebrows in amazement at HAL's abilities. He and Gisela looked at one another, she did her patented facial shrug and said "Not much point in trying to be secretive, is there? I assume from the fact of the questions that they have already decided they can handle togetherness, meaning we four in a circle up close. Knowing we've each and every one of us been thoroughly fucked. Can we handle it, too? You and me?"

Bob nodded, yes, certainly, if THEY could then WE could.

Gisela said firmly "HAL, the answers are 'yes' to all four questions, so release the door. Tell them we look forward to their visit with great anticipation."

The visit began with mild embarrassment all around, and indirect chatter about all four parties having thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

After a couple of minutes, Gisela and Jeannie declared a need for some girls-only time, and after a few seconds of all-female conferencing, Jeannie announced "We girls have decided we REALLY need some more private time and that it would therefore be a VERY good idea if you two would take your y-chromosomal selves to the garage, or the TV, until further notice. Probably only ten or twenty minutes. Please?"

The men looked at one another, grinned, and left. Twenty minutes later, HAL summoned them back into the ladies' presence, to which they returned from the garage and their discussion of things mechanical, beer bottles firmly in hand. It was obvious from the women's expressions that they had been up to something. Jerry looked at them and immediately asked "Ok, what is it you two?"

The women shared a quick glance and both pinked slightly. "Well..." said Gisela, "we've just had a very interesting discussion. Of fantasies and suchlike. It turns out that our minds run in the same gutter, luckily for you guys! And that we both have very good female imaginations. And when the two imaginations are combined, it can be positively captivating. Want to hear about it?"