Kissing The Pink Ch. 02

"Oh, I forget my manners," he said. "Would you like a lift home Lucy?"

"No," Carol answered for her, displaying a licentious smile. "She's staying with me for a little while."

George left and the three of us entered the large shower area. It was ménage time, as I took my place under a very gentle jet of warm water. There was a hyper erotic bout of shared kissing, as three tongues swapped partners while dancing a slow tango with each other. Carol and Lucy then took turns in sucking my balls and cock simultaneously. A salivating Lucy licked and sucked me enthusiastically, while Carol used her tongue like a wand as I enjoyed five minutes of personal nirvana.

We broke, and Carol and Lucy stood and kissed. Carol leant down slightly, as Lucy stood on tiptoes, until their lips merged as one. Their fingers each drew tight concentric circles around the other's clit, as they swayed gently together in mutual fascination and ecstasy. 'There's a lot more to lesbianism than sticking fake cocks into cunts,' I thought, realising my previous youthful misconceptions were being shattered as comprehensively as flat earth theory was following Ferdinand Magellan's global circumnavigations. The tenderness and enjoyment enthralled me. Finally, the kissing, rubbing, stroking and fingering ended in twin climaxes. Even more erotically, they licked each others fingers clean.

My cock was standing up proud, past my belly button, like a cop's truncheon. I eased Carol's back against the shower wall. The Amazonian was just the right height for a stand-up, front-on fuck. I placed my palms flat against the tiles, just above her shoulders, Carol held and directed my cock into her, and I slammed her hot, wet pussy very powerfully and aggressively, while kissing her soft lips. Lucy inveigled her small frame between us, forming a luscious flesh sandwich. She made a feast of Carol's colossal nipples, sucking on them like a hungry baby on a lactating mother. Lucy slanted her body sideways, and held a shower hose head directly parallel with her vulva, directing strong warm jets up and down her womanhood.

The over-sexed forty something thrust her fingernails deeply and harshly into my hard buttocks as I rammed her. I rolled my buttocks as I thrust, stabbing her wet cunt from side to side and up and down, feeding her different stroke depths and angles. Carol adored it, and came shortly after I found that friction on the right side of her pussy walls caused her to moan loudly and dip a touch at the knees.

I pulled my cock out. Lucy dropped to her knees and sucked whitish cream from its length. My cock was literally twitching with my pulse as she did so. I looked down at her small frame. An idea formed in my head. 'She looks light enough.' I thought...

I lifted Lucy clean off of her feet by holding her around her knees and put her over my shoulder. She was very light. Then, carefully, I turned her slowly, so that eventually her head was upside down, and I held her with one hand under a shoulder, as the other arm wrapped around her back. Her hands were wrapped around my lower back. From this position she sucked on the head of my cock while I tasted her pretty pink cunt. Regular weight training comes in useful sometimes!

"Wow, that looks absolutely glorious," Carol said. "Hold it right there, I have GOT to get a photo of that!"

She scooted out of the shower area, quickly dried her hands on a towel, and left the bedroom, before returning rapidly with a camera. She walked around us, and took a good number of snaps from differing angles and heights. When satisfied, she placed the camera on a bed.

"They are definitely going in my scrapbook," she said. "Maybe I'll even display them in an annual exhibition of erotica I attend in Amsterdam. Would that be ok with you two?"

I interrupted my pussy snack to answer. "Fine, but I don't want a clear picture of my face appearing in public."

Lucy gave no answer; she just sort of mumbled something that sounded like, "Uh hu." It wasn't easy to understand her, although as my cock was lodged in her mouth at the time, that was perhaps not entirely surprising.

The sucking continued enjoyably, but the increasing strain of bearing Lucy's weight prevented my body relaxing sufficiently for me to be able to cum, so I spun her back onto her feet.

I told Lucy to, "kneel on the shower mat and stick your butt out."

She acquiesced with my request. Her pretty pink cunt loomed large and inviting between her small, girlish buttocks. I dropped down behind her, slammed it in with no tenderness, and rode her forcefully, while I held her firm breasts and rolled and pinched her small, hard, pink nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. There was no tenderness to any of this. It was pure, unadulterated, animalistic lust.

In fact, I realised that while these two liked a certain initial tenderness, they preferred aggressive, almost brutal sex. It was almost as though gentleness and patience were reserved for their Sapphic couplings. I found them utterly fascinating and wanton.

I suppose I was wild too; for when I was about to cum, I pulled out of Lucy's pussy and beckoned Carol's head down with one hand, so her lips were near to the end of my cock. I jerked off into it, and came massively, aiming jets into her open mouth. Carol appeared to swallow much of it, then obscenely let some trickle from the sides of her open mouth. Lucy licked it off her, in the manner of a cat at a bowl of cream.

"Do you think I should give him one of my specials?" Lucy then asked Carol.

"Well, why not, he's earned it. Greg, be a dear and sit on the floor."

I did as I was asked. Lucy stood above me. She spread her legs in stance, pulled her pussy lips wide, and sprayed a shower of pee onto my face. It ran in golden rivulets over my body

"I never had you down as a wimp Greg," Carol said. "Get the full benefit, open your mouth boy."

'Well, try anything once, except voting Tory or committing suicide,' I thought. I opened my mouth and Lucy directed a jet into it. It taste warm, fresh and dilute, with just a vague salty, ammonial tang to it. I gulped some down. To be honest, while the flavour was neither unpleasant nor appetizing, the act itself was thrilling in its decadence.

I rose and repaid the compliment to them. They both knelt before me, almost in servitude. I directed a strong spurt first at Lucy, and she sucked my pee down her throat like it was nectar. Carol was more restrained when it came to her turn, although she appeared to swallow a fair share too.

We then showered, rubbing and caressing each other with foamy soapsuds, until the flowing hot water left us clean. I moved to a wash basin, and swilled mouthwash. I had to maintain some sort of standards - after all, I am English!

A clock on a wall told me it was getting near to the time when Rick was due to pick me up. I dried and redressed, and the two vixens went back to bed. I was invited to stay by Carol, but declined. I was far too physically and morally fatigued. As I was leaving the room, they were re-engaging in more Sapphic delights, using what seemed to be a double ended, battery driven, humming vibrator. They had plenty of stamina; I'd say that much for them.

************

I sat outside waiting for Rick's truck. After a few minutes, he turned up.

"Huh, you look tired. It looks like you've put a proper shift of work in for once," was the gargoyle's odious greeting.

'What a total asshole,' I thought, but I let it go. After all, he was paying me for gardening, while I was actually engaged in magnificent fun, games and sexual adventures, while he was sat in a tacky, malodorous betting shop, losing money on horse races. I liked to think that the second favourite in the 2.15 at Haydock, and the long shot running in the 3.30 at Newmarket, had left a big dent in his tight wallet.

Early that evening, after I had returned home - weary, and just a touch sore in one particular area - I lay on my bed listening to The Cure, The Smiths and The Stone Roses CD's, while pondering the entwined notions of sexuality and corruption, before my shift at the local pub started.

My musings were interrupted by a phone call from my best friend at uni, Rob. He and another guy from our halls, Muttley, had formed the idea of travelling through France in the summer months, backpacking, paying their way by working on the seasonal vegetable and grape harvests. They were going to camp, or stay in youth hostels. I was invited to join them.

The idea was to later head for some Spanish beaches and bars - hopefully with a few Francs ready for exchange in our pockets - where we would try, and probably fail, to seduce some tanned Eurotrash beauties. It sounded a great idea -- a big adventure. We arranged to meet up with each other at Dover ferry port in two days time, to catch an evening crossing.

The next morning, while Rick drove us back to the Minifle's property, I explained the situation to him, and he appeared human for once. He said that George and Carol were "extremely pleased" with my efforts. Carol in particular, it seemed. Apparently, she had commented to Rick that "Greg is performing marvels in my garden."

Rick said that although he had a manically busy day today, I had earned my wages, and he would go to the bank tomorrow, and bring me the ten days wages he owed me before I left my parents' house to catch the train at 1 pm. Surprise, surprise, ha bloody ha, he strangely never turned up... the twenty four carat scumbag that he was.

George and Carol were out when we arrived at their property. Rick actually did a little work for a change, before, inevitably, he ended up avidly reading the horse racing section of the daily newspaper.

"I've got to take some equipment to another place he announced. I'll pick you up at about five"

I don't know why he bothered with excuses; he was the boss, and we both knew he would really spend all day at the bookmaker's. I watered nutrients into some of the rose beds. Some delicate, young looking plants had sadly started to develop dark spots, which appeared to be spreading; corrupting and damaging the petals. 'This must be a metaphor for something,' I thought.

************

It warmed up in the afternoon, and just after I went shirtless, Carol and George returned home, laden with clothes shopping bags. They approached me, and I informed them about my plans, explaining that this would be my last day working for them. Carol looked very disappointed.

"That's a real shame Greg; you have such a skilful touch with all the different types of flowers here."

"Very true," George interjected. "We are holding a party this weekend for like minded friends. It's a pity you can't come, as you would have been extremely popular, old chap."

They then exchanged a 'knowing' look with each other.

Carol said, "I'll tell you two something, it's a glorious day, far too good to stay indoors. Why don't I fetch some cold drinks and then perhaps we can have some al-fresco fun. What do you think about having a farewell session?"

George was full of enthusiasm, and although I was now somewhat cynical with their ways, I felt pretty horny again, and agreed. There was a picnic table with benches in the centre of one stretch of lawn. George and I moved there, while Carol went to the house to bring out some chilled wine for her and George, and a cold beer for me.

When she returned, she was totally naked. "I may as well enjoy the sun while I can," she said.

As before, she was a highly stirring sight; a tall Englishwoman with creamy pale skin, large breasts and a big round ass... glorious. I was handed a refreshing, virtually ice-cold beer. Carol sat next to me, and kissed me after I was sated by the amber brew.

"Stand up and take your shorts off Greg," she told me.

I did as I was asked. My cock was semi-hard. I was aware that George was checking me out, and so was Carol.

"As it's your fond farewell, why not give George a treat, and let him suck on your magnificent young cock?"

I didn't offer a reply, and they didn't seem to require one... Carol stood, and kissed me as I fondled her huge breasts. George dropped to his knees between us, and with no preamble, put my cock straight into his mouth. He sucked the end hard, then, just as his wife had done the day before; he displayed his deep-throating skills, while Carol's clever tongue danced a waltz with mine.

This carried on for a while, and I won't deny it was extremely enjoyable. It was Carol who broke the revelry.

"Do one last favour just for me Greg. Suck him in return."

I paused a second to think, but decided I would not even attempt to reason with myself about this. I just went with the flow. We ended up lying on the grass, side to side, each sucking the others cock simultaneously. So, for the first, and as yet only time in my life, I took a hard cock in my mouth. It tasted ok, neutral. It was like licking any other area of clean skin I guess, although, after a while, there was a tiny salty tang to it, which I assumed was George leaking some pre-cum. I didn't enjoy sucking it, but it didn't repel me. What I did enjoy was the sense of his mouth treating me. Now that was hot.

I was getting close to shooting a load in his mouth. Somehow, this naturally made me pop his cock out of my mouth. George followed suit, and we both went unspent.

As we moved back, I saw that Carol was sitting on the picnic bench, with her legs askew, showing her cunt off to beautiful effect, while rubbing around her big clit, and stabbing three fingers deep into her own pussy. We watched her reach an orgasm. As she did this, her face was firstly taut in concentration, then alive with energy, before it finally broke out into a satisfied grin.

I got between her legs for a taste... sumptuous. George moved close too, and sucked on her massive hard nipples.

I went back to my beer, as Carol kissed George deeply. Perhaps there was only ever going to be one way this was going to finish. Carol went back into the house and brought back a tube of KY jelly and a condom. She masturbated George until he was hard, and then fitted the condom onto him. Then she smeared lube onto both my re-hardened cock and into her own asshole. Finally, she applied lube to my butt as she toyed with its opening, loosening it.

"I want you in my ass, and George in yours. Ok Greg?"

I didn't answer her; I just balled some of her hair in my fist and pushed her over the picnic table. She stuck her butt out, I lined up my cock up to her wrinkled star, and George did likewise to mine. It was, to think about it, a difficult position to hold, but it seemed easy enough at the time.

And there it all ended, with Mrs Minifle, Carol, bent over a picnic table, her huge bare butt cheeks thrust out proudly, with me behind her, my hands holding her wide hips firmly and my big cock rammed inside her asshole, balls deep, pulsing and still.

Mr Minifle, George, was in turn standing behind me; the forefinger and thumb of each of his hands lightly pinching and playing with my nipples, as his rock hard cock rampaged in my newly non-virgin, tight little puckered ass-bud. Pleasure and pain merged in equality. George came first. His thrusts quickened, and then he rammed one massive lunge into me, and stalled. I was vaguely aware of the condom filling slightly inside me.

He pulled out, and I slammed Carol brutally. I really hammered at her, until my balls drew up tightly, and I unleashed a torrent of cum deep into her.

I used a garden hose to wash us down with. The day had become very hot, and I rapidly dried off, and slipped my shorts back on. They both went inside. Carol soon returned, and paid me what she called my "modelling fee." It was a generous amount too, and came in very handy for my trip. I knew what it was really for though, and it somehow corrupted the acts they had seduced me into.

Rick's truck pulled up. It was time for my lift home. Carol gave me a dainty, ladylike peck on the cheek. "Oh, and you are most welcome to come and visit us any time you are back in the area Greg. We are always more than happy to entertain good friends. Just drop in any time it pleases you." And with that, we bade our farewells.

************

I wonder just how many younger 'friends' they enjoyed 'entertaining' over the years? The mind boggles. I never saw them again after that day. Perhaps, even now, twenty years later, they are still active sexual predators, pursuing innocent, and not so innocent, late-teenagers. Or they may, at this very moment, be blasting the cobwebs away at an over sixties orgy? Who knows?

As for me, well, that summer's travels more than lived up to expectations. As I look back at those times, some words that a man called Longfellow once wrote come to mind. 'Enjoy the Spring of Love and Youth, to some good angel leave the rest; For Time will teach thee soon the truth, there are no birds in last year's nest!'

I've never been fucked in the ass by another guy since then, and can't say I especially want to be. I have been by a woman, or two... 'Cough,' but that is, indeed, another story. Oh, and that reminds me - that bastard Rick never did pay me the money he owed me! I think I may have to work out the amount of interest due and pay him a visit one day soon. Who knows... he may even be alive?

*

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