Naked Pt. 02

Naked (Part 2)

Kathryn M. Burke

When, struggling into a nightgown, Fanny trudged down to the kitchen, she saw exactly what she expected. Cliff was at the counter, pouring out a large helping of coffee into a mug while poor Margery—who may or may not have known of Fanny's overnight visitor—was cowering in a corner. Wearing only a nightgown herself, she was covering her breasts and pubic area with her hands, as if she and not this male intruder was the naked one.

"Fanny!" she cried desperately. "Who is this?"

"Who do you think it is?" Fanny said with a sigh. "My, um, companion for the night."

Margery continued to gawk at Cliff as he sat down calmly at the kitchen table.

"Cliff," Fanny said, looking down at him severely, "do you really have to go around naked?"

"I don't care to wear clothes in the house," he said with unusual precision.

"That's obvious. But there are other people here who, shall we say, may not be keen on seeing everything you have to offer."

"I'm not ashamed of my body."

"Okay, fine, but—"

Suddenly he leaped up. "Hey, how about some breakfast?" he cried. "I'm starving!" He opened the refrigerator and began pulling things out—a box of eggs, a package of bacon, some butter.

"You're going to make breakfast?" Fanny said. "Like that?"

"I'm pretty good at it," he said smugly.

Fanny didn't know if he meant, "I'm pretty good at making breakfast," or "I'm pretty good at making breakfast naked."

Shaking her head, she sat down. Margery, for her part, couldn't take her eyes off the naked man. Slowly and carefully she sidled over to the table and sat down at it. She seemed fixated by Cliff's backside as he stood at the stove and began whipping up a fine weekend breakfast. Every now and then she gave her sister a look of incomprehension, to which Fanny just replied with a baffled shrug of her shoulders.

When the eggs, bacon, toast, and roasted potatoes (which Cliff had found in the freezer) were ready, he doled them out onto three plates and presented them with the elegance of a skilled waiter as he placed them down in front of the two women. Then he sat down himself and began shoving the food into his mouth.

With his naughty bits now largely hidden under the table, a certain semblance of normality prevailed. But, even as Cliff peppered Margery with nosey questions about herself, Fanny felt a sense of the unreality of the situation. What exactly had she gotten herself into? Was this young exhibitionist for real? Or was he just being bold and sassy in the company of two middle-aged ladies?

In a way, it turned out that Cliff was right when he'd said that Margery (and, by implication, Fanny herself) would "get used to" his nudity. With the passing of weeks, he was over at the house more and more, cuddling up to Fanny as they engaged in all manner of bodily permutations. They seemed less and less inclined to be quiet about their activities, and the next morning they encountered a blushing Margery who, in her prudish way, was resolutely determined to pretend that nothing was actually happening.

As Fanny became more comfortable with Cliff in her bed, she pondered on the nature of the relationship. Their twenty-year age difference made it unlikely that this would be a long-lasting affair: she just couldn't envision marrying this sex-obsessed young man, and he didn't seem to think this was anything but an entertaining roll in the hay with a supremely appealing older woman. And that was fine with Fanny: it was all helping to raise her self-esteem after her no-good husband had ditched her.

One night, as they were snuggling after some energetic vaginal and anal sex, Cliff directed his attention toward Fanny's sister.

"So," he said, twirling his lover's nipple with delicate fingers, "what gives with Margery?"

"What do you mean?" Fanny said, as little jolts of pleasure surged through her.

"I mean, how long is she going to stay here? Doesn't she have a life of her own?"

"You don't like her being here?"

"I didn't say that. It's not my call to make. Anyway," he added with a chuckle, "she seems to be getting a kick out of seeing a naked man wandering around the house."

"I'm not sure 'kick' is the word. I actually think she's kind of freaking out about it, but somehow she's convinced herself that it's nothing out of the ordinary."

"Doesn't she go on any dates or anything?"

"Cliff, she's still traumatized over her last love affair, which blew up in her face. She's told you herself she's not had good luck with men."

"There's no reason why that should be. She's really a piece!"

Fanny didn't appreciate the way Cliff was talking about her sister. "Oh, you find her attractive?"

"Who wouldn't? She has curves in all the right places."

"Maybe, but she's a bit on the timid side. And I think sex makes her nervous."

"Some men like that. You know what they said in the Middle Ages: 'my cold, cruel lady fair.'"

"I wouldn't call her cold. I think there's a lot of passion in there somewhere. It's just a bit buried—she seems afraid of expressing herself in that way."

"Well, that's silly."

"Sure it is, but that's just the way she is."

"Maybe I can change that," Cliff said slyly.

"Oh, you want to make a move on her?" Fanny said tartly. "Well, actually, you could do far worse. Maybe that's exactly what she needs."

"You're giving me permission?"

"Sure, what do I care? I mean, you don't want to be nasty or violent or anything like that. I'm sure she wouldn't care for that."

"I'd never do that to a woman."

"Glad to hear it. Well, if the opportunity presents itself, my man, go for it."

The opportunity presented itself sooner than anyone expected.

One Saturday morning, Cliff came downstairs—naked as always—to find Margery at the kitchen sink, cleaning up some dishes that had been left there from the night before. It was a fine, sunny morning in late May, and the sun was pouring in through the several windows in the room—and those rays of light seemed to be focusing on the lovely, shy woman dutifully washing dishes, wearing nothing but a long, sheer nightgown that, in the bright sunlight, revealed every outline of Margery's luscious body.

Cliff's eyes widened as he took in the sight, and something else happened too. In spite of his plowing into Fanny several times the night before, he got hard.

Margery didn't seem to notice his entry into the room, as her back was to the door that led from the kitchen to the dining room and the rest of the house. Cliff walked stiffly over to the forty-two-year-old woman and wrapped his arms around her chest to cup her breasts in both hands, while he rubbed his rampant cock between the cheeks of her bottom.

She gasped at the touch, but seemed determined to continue with her work. Cliff could see her blushing crimson, desperately trying to pretend that nothing was happening.

Cliff found those breasts ripe as melons and deliciously firm and round; and now he could feel their nipples hardening at his touch. He nuzzled her neck and shoulders, saying, "Margery, you're so beautiful."

Margery was now screwing up her face and biting her lips to prevent herself from crying out; but Cliff could tell she was enjoying his attentions.

With one hand now taking hold of both breasts, he slid the other hand down her front and lifted the nightgown up to her waist. She was wearing nothing underneath. Then, for the first time, he took hold of her sex.

Margery let out a little squeal, but continued her dishwashing. Cliff could feel the soft, delicate hairs of her bush and the thick, fleshy labia, now pouring out their juices so that they were trickling down the insides of her thighs. Then he used a thumb to stroke her clitoris—and that made her cry out almost as if she was being choked.

Cliff reached out to turn off the water from the faucet and made Margery give up her frantic washing: the moment had come when she needed to devote all her attention to being pleasured. And she did: clutching the counter with both hands, she relished Cliff's fondling of her pussy and his increasingly vigorous rubbing of his cock against her butt. In minutes she was crying out sharply as a sudden orgasm overwhelmed her. Shivers coursed through her body, and a few tears leaked out of her eyes.

Cliff held on to her pussy as he extracted the final remnants of ecstasy from her clitoris. Then, after letting her rest a little, he turned her around.

Seizing her nightgown at the shoulders, he pulled it down and let it fall to the floor.

The naked form she revealed was heavenly. Those lovely breasts—almost looking as if they had been sculpted by some master artist—led to a cute little round tummy, swelling hips, that exquisite little mound around her delta, and strong thighs and calves. She was almost the same height as Cliff, so he knew he could easily move on to the next stage of the procedure.

He wrapped his arms around her and, in a single swift motion, stuffed his cock into her vagina. She gasped again at the sensation: it had been several months since she'd accommodated a man's member into herself, and in some strange way she felt almost virginal as this gorgeous young man filled her up. He kissed her face, neck, and shoulders as he also stroked her back and bottom. For her part, she first threw her arms around his neck, but then found his bottom too irresistible to ignore; and so she let one hand drop down his back until she'd taken hold of one of his strong butt cheeks and gave it a good squeeze.

Cliff was pounding her vigorously as they both stood at the kitchen sink. With his back to the door, he couldn't see what was happening elsewhere in the room; but Margery, her head resting on Cliff's neck, could.

Fanny had wandered into the room.

She stood stock-still as she watched her lover and her sister in the throes of copulation. Her initial shock gave way to a knowing smirk, as she thought to herself: Well, Cliff is as good as his word: he said he'd be going after Margery, and now he has.

Margery was gawking open-mouthed at Fanny as Cliff exploded in her, grunting like a bear as he filled her vagina with his discharge. Her hand remained fastened to Cliff's butt as he pumped all his seed into her. And when he pulled out, Margery gave a little scream of embarrassment, bent down to pick up the nightgown that had fallen to the floor, and, desperately covering herself as best she could, ran out of the room.

Cliff turned around and saw Fanny gazing at him. Both of them noticed that his cock was dripping with both his juices and some of Margery's. He grinned sheepishly.

"That was quite a performance," Fanny quipped.

"You told me I could—"

"Yes, yes, I know."

"So you're not peeved?"

"No, I suppose not. I guess you've done your good deed of the day."

"I wouldn't say that. This was what people call a quickie. But don't think Margery didn't have fun too! I, um, made her come first."

"Good boy. Now, while you make breakfast, I'll have a little heart-to-heart talk with my sister."

Fanny padded back upstairs, where she found Margery standing stark naked in the bathroom, splashing water between her legs to clean herself up. When she saw Fanny staring at her, she gave a little yelp and covered herself with her nightgown, which had been hanging on a hook on the inside of the door. Fanny rolled her eyes at her sister's bashfulness. For God's sake, I must have seen you naked thousands of times!—although perhaps not as an adult.

"When you're ready," she said, "let's have a chat."

Fanny stalked over to Margery's bedroom, which had always vaguely irritated her by being almost excessively feminine in its furnishings: all manner of frilly lace curtains and cute pillows on the bed, the overall décor being overwhelmingly pink. She sat down on a corner of the bed, and presently Margery trudged in, as if to receive a scolding from an irate parent.

Fanny tried to put her at ease with a smile. "So," she said, "you and Cliff."

Margery did something startling. With a horrible cry she fall to her knees in front of Fanny and placed her head abjectly in her lap, throwing her arms around her hips. She started blubbering uncontrollably while choking out the words, "Fanny, I'm so sorry!"

"Oh, for the love of Mike!" Fanny said impatiently, taking her sister's head in her arms and prying it off of her lap. "Stop this at once! Don't trouble yourself about what happened. I actually wanted Cliff to do it."

Margery gazed up at her sister in wonder. "You—you did?"

"Sure. I thought you—" She stopped abruptly. I guess it wouldn't be nice to come right out and say, "You needed a good fuck." "I thought you could use some comfort. Cliff's good at comforting women."

In spite of herself Margery coughed out a laugh. "I'll say he is. But—but he's your boyfriend!"

"He's not my boyfriend," Fanny said bluntly. "He's more like—what's the word?—a boytoy. I sleep with him. He entertains me that way. And maybe that's enough for now."

"I think he's rather sweet."

"Well, I suppose he is. Although he can also be a bit irritating."

"I like him."

"Glad to hear it. You seem to have a fondness for his, um, posterior."

"He has a nice butt."

"That he does. But the point is, I think he wants a bit more of you than what just happened."

Margery blushed from the base of her neck to the top of her head. She sure was one for blushing! A schoolgirl couldn't have done it any better.

"Wh-what do you mean?" she whispered.

"You know exactly what I mean. He's very keen on giving women the—well, let's call it the full treatment. Are you ready for that? Tonight, maybe?"

"Tonight?" Margery squeaked.

"Yes, tonight. I'll warn you that he'll keep you busy for several hours."

"Omigod," she said, now turning pale. "But—but he was doing a lot with you last night."

"Oh, you heard us, eh? Well, Cliff seems to have remarkable powers of regeneration. I guess that comes of being a young man of twenty-four."

"I don't know if I'm up for it, Fanny."

"That doesn't matter, as long as he's up for it!" Fanny said, laughing loudly at her own feeble witticism. "Anyway, I hope you're ready for what he has in mind."

"What would that be?"

"Do I really have to spell it out for you? Let's start with some basics. I take it you like putting a man's thing in your mouth."

"Sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Well, Fanny, I don't want him, you know, squirting in my mouth."

"I don't care all that much for that either, although I'll endure it if the guy really wants it. But I meant sucking a guy's cock just as foreplay."

"Sure, I like that."

"And you like to be on the receiving end of oral sex?"

The blush again. "Yes."

"Fine." Fanny heaved a big sigh. "There's one other thing he likes that you'd better be prepared for . . ."

The rest of the day, Margery was in a state of almost uncontrollable nervous excitement. Fanny, noticing her agitation with a smile, figured that was what happens to a woman when she knows she's going to be on her back—or perhaps in other strenuous positions—that night. She could hardly eat anything at dinnertime, glancing furtively at the ever-naked Cliff and no doubt running through her mind the many and complicated ways in which his organ might penetrate her various orifices in a matter of hours. The three of them watched a movie that evening, but Margery couldn't remember a single scene of it afterwards.

When it was over, around 10 p.m., Fanny cheerfully announced, "Okay, you two, time to head upstairs."

Margery once again blushed furiously and looked down at her lap. Cliff, standing up in front of her, extended a hand and said gallantly, "Shall we go, my lady?"

Margery placed a hand in his and allowed herself to bed led upstairs. Fanny watched them with the approval of a mother indulging teenage lovers.

As soon as the couple was in the master bedroom—which Fanny had generously given to them for the night—Margery fell to her knees in front of Cliff and, taking hold of his semi-hard member, stuffed it in her mouth.

Cliff was caught off-guard. "Hey, hey, easy there, Margaret! Don't be in such a rush."

"Sorry," she muttered even as she kept his cock in her mouth. Then began diligently licking and sucking it. She did like this procedure, and she especially liked cupping a man's testicles in her hand. What a strange, achingly delicate little sac it was! And yet, that's the awesome source of male potency, isn't it?

After a few minutes Cliff lifted her up and held her close. One of his favorite things about sex was merely holding a woman in his arms, their mutual nudity sending tingles over all the parts of their bodies wherever they touched. And Cliff found in Margery's curvy fleshiness a curious sense of innocence, almost as if she was a virgin. He of course knew of her various past relationships, but they seemed to have left her untainted, and she still came across as pure and unsullied, like Venus rising up from the sea on her half-shell.

He led her to the bed, and after placing her on her back he first paid serious attention to her magnificent breasts, large and firm and round, their nipples standing pertly erect as if just waiting for a man's lips to encircle them. He did that, even nibbling a bit at them, eliciting squeals of pleasure from his partner. Then, leaving a little trail of saliva down her chest, stomach, and abdomen, he focused on her fragrant sex, where the juices were already flowing copiously. Margery was sometimes embarrassed at how wet she got—it made her feel like a "wanton." Cliff sensed that her dripping pussy was a sign of pent-up emotions crying for release—and he intended to help her do just that.

He was struck by how her pussy tasted—so different from her sister's. Could it be that all women taste different? Anyway, Margery's labia and clitoris were fat and succulent, and as he grabbed her bottom with energetic hands he licked and kissed and nuzzled to his heart's content—and, apparently, to Margery's too, for in a surprisingly short time she was clutching the bedsheets spasmodically as she let out almost a shriek of orgasmic delight. Cliff knew that this was the most delicate moment in a woman's climax: he eased up a little but didn't let up, continuing to use lips and tongue to stimulate her and extend the sensation to its limits. Minute after minute passed as Margery thrashed and quivered, her tongue sticking out of her mouth and funny little choking sounds coming out of her throat.

As Cliff finally stopped, he looked up and saw Margery's face beet-red. This was no blush; it was the intense expression of pure physical ecstasy. He climbed up her body, gazing down benevolently at her as he prepared to enter her; but he made sure to give her a bit of a rest before doing that, knowing that penetration can also be an intensely powerful feeling for a woman, just as it is for a man.

When he did plunge into her, Margery instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips, allowing him to forge all the way in. This was an even more exquisite fusion of their bodies than the unexpected coupling that morning, and Margery gave way to the moment by returning Cliff's passionate kisses and wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders. His thrusts were powerful, relentless, even a tad painful; but Margery accepted every one as the sincere testament of his affection. And when he sent his seed into her, she received it with a sense of pride that she had coaxed such an outpouring of passion from this incredible young man.

Both partners were convinced this was only the beginning. It was as they were resting, Margery lying on top of Cliff as he lay on his back, that she said shyly into his ear: