How Did You Learn To Love Fellatio? Ch. 02

Then once - hmmm! - not just that time, the first time I was sitting on his lap with his cock in my pussy, his fingers reached down around my ass and rubbed my asshole. I was surprised, of course, but it felt so good.

Oh, he insisted that we had to speak French with each other for my language study. That was also real good, a lot of practice for my using the familiar forms. But there was one English word he always used: pussy. Ooooh! When he said it in his French accent with equal emphasis on both syllables, "pussie," pursing his lips for the P - oooh! - mine always went all wet!

Of course, he had used the word in a situation when it would anyway, or already was, but then I told about that. He chuckled and then sometimes just looked at me and said it softly. The first time he did that - we were in the kitchen - he reached down between my thighs and checked that what I had said was true. A few seconds, it was even wetter; he had almost thrown me up on the kitchen table and begun to lick. That was another time, when he gave me multiple orgasm, not the only other time. He delighted in surprising me that way, and, of course, I was then more than delighted. That was fine in his flat, where we alone and naked.

But then we were once at a gallery opening, a "vernissage." He had contacts for such events, and we both enjoyed them, not so much for the event, rather for the glances we got. He enjoyed being seen with a younger woman, and I would smile at him, letting people wonder about our relationship. Sometimes he would introduce me with the French version of my name, Dorothèe, and we would speak French, or we would speak English, he calling me Dorothy, and I would call him Stephan.

Anyway, at this vernissage, very boring, after two glasses of wine, he looked at me and pursed his lips. I knew he wasn't going to kiss me, and then he said it softly: "pussie." My thighs twitched; it had worked again. I nodded with wide eyes. He grinned, and I did, and we took French leave. That was another time when we did everything we could, every way we could.

* * *

Dorothy grinned at me and asked:

"That should be enough to let you know why I love to suck cocks. Oh? Yours especially, of course."

She caught a fold of skin and picked it up, shaking it. Even after her long and erotic story, it just shook loosely. I snorted and replied:

"Good thing you said that. I was having to think that his cock was the one you had most especially loved to suck."

"It was, back then, and for a few since. Sorry about saying that, but if you had to ask?"

She shook mine again and added:

"But yours is the only one like his."

"Oh, uncircumcised?"

"Um-hmm!" she agreed with a grin.

"My good luck. If that matters, why didn't you ...?"

"Ask them first?" she completed my question, grinning.

I chuckled and replied:

"They would have lied."

"For sure, and a girl can't ask that; it would sound like that was all she was interested in.

"Yeah, of course. Sorry, that I suggested it. But - hm-hmm! - you said he made it easy for you. Sounded more like you made it hard for him. Not just his cock."

She dropped my cock and slapped my ass, but chuckled and said:

"I knew you were going to say that, as soon as I heard myself saying that he made it easy. I did, and not just the first time."

"You made that clear. If you still have contact with him, tell him my appreciation."

"Oooh! I do, but I don't thing I can tell him that. Hmm? Well, maybe, about his making it easy, and my making it hard."

"He would like that. Oh? Did you hear more about his niece?

Dotty blushed, even evident in the half-light of the room. She snorted softly, then replied:

"You'd have to ask."

"It sounded like that first time with him couldn't have been everything."

"It wasn't. Hmm? He admitted ... I asked him too. He admitted that they did again. Sounded like, whenever they could."

"Can't blame them."

"I couldn't either; I had her to thank that I could."

"Maybe just sooner than it probably would have happened."

"Probably, can't spend a week going naked with someone without something happening."

"I'll take your word for it, Where's that place where your aunt lives?"

"Oh, you beast! I really liked him, still do. Don't you still have fond memories about your first time?"

"Very! Even though it wasn't good."

"Mine either. I have promoted him to being my first time."

"Lucky; how many do I have to skip over to put you at the top of my list?"

"You are a beast!"

She slapped my ass very hard. I grunted, but then replied:

"Only three."

"If I can believe you, then only three for me."

"None of them were good enough to really count."

"Hm-hmm! Then my answer, too," she replied.

"And his niece?"

"I hope I did it as good as she did."

"I'm sure; no one could do it better."

"That's better, not a beast, just a horny anteater, you know, with a long tongue."

I stuck mine out, wagging at her. She chuckled, nodding with a grin, and replied:

"Yeah, like that."

I remembered her having blushed when I had asked about his niece, and asked again:

"And his niece? If you think they did it whenever they could, and you stayed with him so long, seems like she would have turned up sometime."

She blushed again and murmured:

"You weren't supposed to ask."

"She did?"

She just nodded.

"I guess you moved out to your cheap room."

She shook her head. Since she had blushed - now twice - and they both had been there together with him, it must have been interesting. I didn't think she would need to blush, if she could have told me that they just took turns with him. She looked like she was almost expecting me to ask another question. I shrugged and remarked:

"Why not? You knew all about the two of them; if he didn't suggest that you move out for the weekend or however long, I guess that he assumed it would work out."

"I did offer to move out."

"What was his name? Maybe he wanted to know which of you - no - wanted to know if you both did it equally good."

"Hmm! You'd think he would tell us?"

"No!"

"He didn't, of course."

"But you both did?"

"Of course."

"Mmmm! How long did she stay?"

"A week; stole a week to visit him, before she went home between semesters in England."

"Did she know you would be there?"

"Um-hmm, he told me, when he said that I didn't have to move out."

"Hmmm? Well, I guess that gave him time to recover a little, spread things out. If it had just been for a weekend with two such good girls ..."

"It wasn't. Hm-hmm! Were we 'good girls'? Not like our parents would have used the expression."

"I hope not, but all three of you? One of you two having to watch?"

Dotty smirked slightly, shaking her head. My eyebrow shot up. She snorted softly at my surprised expression, then said: "You really want to know?"

I just nodded. She smiled wryly, then chuckled and said:

"Before you start wondering how, what, ..."

"I am, already."

"I was too. Oh, I'll tell you."

"Please."

"When she arrived, she immediately greeted me cheek kisses, like the French do with better friends. Good thing that he had told me that she knew about us."

"Anyone who sleeps with my uncle like I do is immediately a better friend."

"Yeah, but don't interrupt me."

I nodded, pressing my lips together.

"Yeah, so there we were, back in his flat after picking her up at the Eurostar station; you know, the express train under the English Channel. It suddenly occurred to me that she would be expecting to stay in his room. Did she assume that I always slept in there? Without setting down her bag, he immediately remarked that we both knew about each other, that his bed was big enough for three. It was.

"She and I both shrugged, exchanging wry smiles, then nodding. She could see the towels on chairs. He had laid out a couple more, since there was three of us. She plucked at a button of her blouse, and I did, and we both nodded again, this time with smirks. We all went to hall to the bedroom. Since I kept my clothes in the guest room, that I never slept in, I went further down the hall, hearing him explain that to her. Of course, I was curious to see her naked. He had told me that my breasts were bigger ..."

"And that he had forgotten what a young girl's pussy looked like," I interjected with a grin.

"Shut up, or I won't tell you!"

I nodded, trying to look apologetic, and she continued:

"Nice, like mine were when I was fifteen, looked just right with her slender figure, with nice nipples. They popped out, when we saw each other, mine too. Hers were more tan than pink, but that looked just right too.

"Well, to avoid a blow by blow ... Don't say it! To keep the story short, of course we both did. Doesn't matter how we got to that, but we did, and she went first. Before I could wonder about just having to watch, he told me that he wanted me to kneel over his face."

I couldn't suppress a hum. She gave me stern look, but then nodded with a grin and continued:

"Yeah, so we did it that way. I told you what happened when he licked my pussy - when you do too - but not that many times. And then, well, we changed places. Oh, not immediately - after a glass of wine, a meal. I can't remember what, that first time.

"You're wondering if we really did, both fuck him?"

I nodded vigorously, pressing my lips together again. She grinned and said:

"We did, of course, but not that first day and night."

Her expression suddenly changed, and she was blushing again, and gave a disturbed sounding hum. I waited. She looked at me with a very wry expression, and then murmured:

"Yeah, we did, but I shouldn't have asked you if you were wondering."

"But you were right, and said that you did."

"Yeah, but ... Oh shit! I got myself into this!"

I shrugged, hoping my expression looked understandingly sympathetic. She snort with sharp "hmm." Then a wry smile passed over lips, and she also shrugged, then finally spoke:

"Probably gave it away already, after saying that."

I shrugged again, trying not to let show that I was beginning to think that it sounded like she and his niece had done something together. I shrugged again, this time in response to my thought: why not? She smirked slightly and murmured:

"You haven't guessed?"

"Guessed a lot, also about your blushing."

"Didn't know you could be so tactful."

"I'm trying to be. Funny, this kind of reminds me of your conversation with him that first evening."

"Oh, that is funny! Yeah, it does."

We both snickered, and then she laughed. She had told me about its releasing nervous tension. When she stopped laughing, she shrugged with another wry smile and said:

"Oh shit! I'll tell you; can't make much difference, since you've probably already thought so. Yeah, she and I did. It was after the second night together. Hmm! Hm-hmm! All three of us in his big bed; of course, we couldn't get to sleep until, well, like I told you.

"The next morning, after he left for work, we were cleaning up in the kitchen. Ha! It's all her fault! She turned and looked directly at me and said: 'I want to know why he likes so much to do that to us." Was I surprised already? I was, when she added: 'You don't have to.' There was no question of what she was suggesting. Her remarks set in; I then also realized that I had had the same question. Did I shrug or nod? Yeah, I nodded very slightly and heard myself reply: 'If you want to.'

"She wanted to lick my pussy - his 'pussie'. Did I want to lick hers? If she did - could? I heard myself murmur: 'I will too.' She just nodded with slight smile. She had been washing dishes and I had been drying them. She dropped her dishrag and I, my dishtowel, and both almost hurried back to his bedroom.

"Mmmm! Of course, she knew how he did it and that he didn't stop after my first orgasm, nor after the second, third ones. She didn't either. It wasn't better than he did it - couldn't be - but still a special thrill. Oh, I guess every girl would like to do it, if she knew how good it is. No, I haven't with any other girl, but I might. I did with her. And just as good as she had, and as good as he had. I had seen how her pussy flushed his face when she came. Could have told you that before. He loved it, and I loved it! Don't say anything."

I didn't, smiling at her. Her expression suggested that she was still recalling the pleasure of what she had told. After a moment, she returned my smile, then asked:

"You don't mind?"

"If I like it, and he likes it, why shouldn't you? Hope her pussy was as lovely as yours."

"You're dear! Oh, it was so good, knowing just what my tongue was doing for her! Anyway, then we were lying together. Yeah, we kissed, as good as with any guy. You know Courbet's painting, 'le sommeil', the sleepers, two naked girls lying together in bed? About like that. We also learned why guys love to lick and suck our nipples."

"Again, why shouldn't you? But you still haven't told how that led to what you then did with him."

"I guess not. Could sound like we didn't need him anymore, but we did."

"If I didn't know already, I could be worried."

"We do, I do," she replied and found my cock again and fondled it."

"That's reassuring. And so?"

"Hmm! That was wicked. We had all day, well, we didn't all day, couldn't have. Then she turned around on the bed. Funny, in that painting, most people probably don't notice that one of the girl's earrings and hairpin are down by their feet. Anyway, so we both did it, sixty-nine, same thing in French: 'soixante neuf'.

"Wicked! I was a little surprised when her fingers found my asshole, that hers had, like his had. Then she stopped licking and said - in French - 'you too, mine too'. My fingers did, and then, well, that wasn't what was wicked; that we took turns giving each other more orgasms, almost competing, it seemed. I don't know how many, but more than with him, and my face was sopping wet. Hers couldn't have been as wet; I just don't come like that."

"But very good, and I love it, when you do."

"If you don't mind my telling how good she did it."

"You said that girls know better what their tongues are doing."

"Yours does it just as good. You just don't know how it feels for me."

"Pity. Oh, don't think I want to find out with some guy."

"Hm-hmm! I hope not, but it would probably be about the same. So, finally, exhausted, with tired tongues, we lay there together again, like in the painting. I was a little relieved that she admitted a little surprise about all we had done. Then we could chuckle about it, telling each other how good it was. Not just how good it had been, tacitly we were agreeing that we were going to do it again, and we sure did."

"Making me envious. And with him?"

"Oh, yeah. Maybe it was good thing that we had to go grocery shopping, get dressed and out of his bedroom. Oh, his bed was soaked. We remade it with a fresh bottom sheet. When he returned, when we were in it again, he noticed with a snicker and smirk, and we told him, and told him what we had discussed.

"Getting ahead of the story. While we were shopping, she smirked at me and said: 'Can't tell you here.'"

"Don't make me wait until you'd finish shopping," I remarked impatiently.

"I wasn't going to. Back in his flat, having put away the groceries, while we were undressing, she smirked again and said: 'I'm sure that can't be all you do with Étienne, and it's not all he and I usually do.' I nodded. Early that morning, I had woken up with his cock between my thighs, like many other mornings, when we had then had a nice, long, lazy, spooning screw. We hadn't that morning, but I wondered if she knew where his cock had been."

"Of course, probably; they must have done it like that."

"Yeah, well, then, after I had nodded, she smirked slightly and said: 'If we can tell him what we did, both of us at the same time, then he could.' I understood immediately, but the big question: if we could tell him?! Her suggestion solved the problem of what the other one of us would be doing."

I grinned and interjected:

"Licking her pussy with his cock moving in it."

"Don't make sounds so much like an orgy."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to. I always wondered what threesomes did together. Sounds like a good solution. Did you tell him? Oh, you already did, telling about the sheet. So, how did you figure out how to tell him?"

"I told her that I couldn't see myself telling him, but that if she could, I would immediately support whatever she said. She also wasn't sure that she could, but then we remembered the sheet and agreed that he would immediately assume the obvious, as he did. We chuckled, almost giggled like school girls, when we realized that he was going to know what we had done without our having to say anything. We had a naked lunch with a bottle of wine, and I told her about the first evening with him. She had to keep from laughing to let me finish it, and I remembered to thank her for having softened him to the idea."

I snickered and said:

"I won't say it again: 'easy', 'soft', 'hard'."

"You did. She also snickered and made that play on words in French. Oh, it was fun and funny. We agreed to try to take a nap, promising that we wouldn't do anything. We didn't, really! Don't smirk like that! We spent most of the time talking, however, not all about him, but most of it. She told me how she got him to let her suck his cock and what else they did; nothing he and I hadn't done. And she told me how pleased her then boyfriend had been, when she did it to him, also about the excuses she had to use to visit him.

"When I asked about their family vacations, she chuckled and told me about them, first as a kid, and then when she was more curious about males, and then admitted that during the vacations after they had been together. A couple of times, they managed to get together with different excuses about why each of them wasn't with the others. She made French nudist vacation spots sound very 'interesting', if you know what I mean."

"That it wasn't just the couple of times with her uncle, with someone her age?"

"Yeah, sounded very easy, and that the parents could only have assumed the obvious."

"Like he was going to do, when he saw the fresh sheet?"

"Yeah, we remembered to tuck it in tightly again. When we got up, we agreed that if he suggested doing anything before dinner, we would have to tell him to wait. That suggested that we have an early dinner, and we started preparing it."

"Skip the practical details," I said: "and get on to when he discovered the fresh sheet."

"Maybe, probably he suspected something, when we said that we wanted dinner first, but that only made it obvious that we had something in mind."

"I hope his cock knew."

"Hm-hmm! Oh, it did. We all talked about something else at dinner, but a couple of times she and I glanced at each, and he chuckled, as though he understood that we had some sort of conspiracy. So when she said that we could clear the table later, and we stood up, his cock was like that first evening when he stood up. Then we were the bedroom, and you can imagine the rest. We told him, and we did it, she and I first. That was a little funny, just curling up together, knowing he was watching. We had left it up to him to decided where he wanted to fit in. He said something about guests before family. Oooh! That was good! I hadn't really thought about how it would feel that way, wickedly good!

"Obviously, he was going to have to do it again with her. We had coffee and cognac and cleared the table and did it all over again. Then we lay there in the dark, telling each other how good it had been, he thanking us for a great idea and trying to describe what it felt like for his cock in a pussy - his 'pussie' - that was responding to its being licked, contracting on his cock, without his having to move it. Then I told her how I loved to hear him speak that word."