Never Mind The Face Pt. 11

Part 11. At the End of the Day

Chapter 30. Unfinished Business

Sebastian had made love to his step-daughter, and I had done the same with her mother.

There had been respectful, awed silence after each coupling, as the audience savoured post-coital moments.

After Ruby rolled off my body and the room stayed silent for the realisation of what had just taken place to sink in, Sebastian was the first to break the quietness.

I could not tell whether his tone was admiring or mildly sarcastic. He was referring to the events of that Boxing Day afternoon and evening.

"You have been busy, darling. Did you really plan all this just for today?"

She stood up and gestured for him to sit on a sofa. She sat beside him and leant against him, looking up into his eyes.

"When Rita told me about Sylvia's ride, and why she had done it, I wanted to share her adventure. I hoped one day to let Sylvia see it so that we could discuss and compare our experiences. When I planned today's activities, I wasn't sure what would happen. I didn't ask Simon to bring those DVDs, but I wouldn't have objected if he had suggested it. I didn't have sex with him before today. I only wanted him to record my ride as he had done with Sylvia. He hadn't had sex with her after hers either. It was his choice to be nude with me on that ride.

"I did it in front of you just now, not behind your back. Sylvia sets great store in trust. I'm trying to learn from her example."

Sebastian weighed up her words, then nodded. He turned to Sylvia.

"And has your experience cured you of your problem?"

He might have been a TV reporter interviewing sports superstars.

Sylvia shook her head. "I don't know. All I know is that I was happy for you to discover finally how my body feels, but not to come inside me. I hope you don't mind?"

He smiled and kept his thoughts to himself.

Ruby sank to her knees beside Sylvia. She clasped her daughter's hands in her own. "Simon has saved himself for you. Isn't it about time to find out whether your journey has been successful?"

She was referring of course to her daughter's attempts to achieve natural orgasms.

Sylvia looked at each of us in turn before replying. "What? In front of all of you?"

"Why not? I've lived with your problem as much as you have. I guessed much more than you had ever told me about you problem. Then Simon told me something I didn't know before, something you had told him and Rita, but not me. I'm sorry if my noisy lovemaking in the next bedroom spoiled your childhood.

"You wanted Simon to be the witness to your horse ride. You asked him to record it. I assume it was for my - or our ultimate benefit - putting on film what you couldn't discuss in person. Why not allow us to share in your moment of fulfilment? I've seen what Simon can do. Let us all share in that now."

Sylvia suddenly looked hunted. She had gone along with the lubricious atmosphere of that afternoon, even flirted at times with her stepfather. But she seemed reluctant to draw her exploration of her body to its logical conclusion, at least not in front of witnesses. She turned to address me.

"Did you come inside my mother?"

I shook my head. I tried to smile, but my heart was pounding from unsatiated desire. I couldn't disguise the toll my persistent extreme arousal and enforced self-control was exacting on my mood.

"I wanted to, but I saved myself for you. Now, I'm not so sure."

"Take her," Sebastian urged me.

"I don't think I'm ready," I replied. "I'm frightened that it will be a failure - sorry Sylvia - that didn't come out as I intended."

Sylvia was looking for excuses as well. "You've just made love to my mother. How can I compete with that?"

"It wasn't love," said Ruby. "It was raw sex, and Simon held back; I could tell. I love Sebastian anyway, darling, so there's no competition. But Simon is good at what he does. You could learn something from his foreplay, Sebastian."

"I would echo that," said Rita. "I've sampled him two ways now, and on three occasions."

All their eyes homed in on her, with their eyebrows raised.

Sylvia turned to me. "What's been happening in my absence?"

She was referring to her moving abroad.

I desisted from yet another shrug. I had to come clean.

"I was having to cope with you going to Brussels, probably forever, and dealing instead with your unexpectedly sexy mother, and your erotic friend, Rita. I thought you and I were finished as an item. But I never stopped hoping that what we had done would bear fruit. I crafted those DVDs with care and deep affection, hoping someday to show them to you. Your mother wanted you to see her riding, showing solidarity with you, in the hopes of seeking common ground and a reconciliation.

"I took your mother just now, but I held back for you. Isn't this what you had been planning for all along?"

"Well, yes, but not with an audience."

Rita knelt beside her and took her hand. "You confided in me, but you never said it was in confidence. OK, I didn't destroy the saddle, but I acted in your best interests by eventually telling Ruby. Something extraordinary has developed here. In our own separate ways, all three of us women have used Simon for our own purposes. We're probably all better women for it. Ruby is reconciled with you. I've discovered my bisexuality and lost my fear of men.

"Now you have the chance to prove your mental and emotional journey hasn't been a wasted effort, in front of all those who care about you the most."

She remained kneeling, pressing herself against Sylvia's body, her impressive torso against Sylvia's slimmer but perfectly proportioned body, and kissed her. Their arms rose to embrace each other. Then their kissing suddenly deepened into an urgent embrace of intertwined arms, breasts, and tongues. It was hot to watch.

Ruby knelt beside them and waited patiently until they welcomed her to join them in a multi-women embrace. Sebastian and I watched from a respectful distance, and fed our eyes on the sexy physical communion of three lovely bodies.

Ruby stood up and exchanged glances with Rita, who nodded and stood as well. Without speaking, they lifted Sylvia bodily and carried her to the glass-topped table. She did not complain or resist.

Sebastian and I followed, in awe of this impromptu ceremony. No question was necessary. The two older women were preparing Sylvia as an offering, to me.

Sebastian went off to select some soothing, sensual music. Ruby went off somewhere else. Rita held up a hand to warn me not to approach. I assumed she meant not yet. Ruby returned with a travelling cosmetics bag and a bottle. It was the amber-coloured Stimuoil she had put in my Christmas cracker.

Ruby knelt down and turned on the under-table illuminations. The room was bathed anew in its soft, warm glow, from under Sylvia's naked form. The subtle curves of her body were amplified by the shadows cast by the subtle under-table lighting. Sebastian returned with Ruby's digicam, and held it out to her wordlessly. She passed the cosmetics bag and the oil bottle to Rita with a studied gravity, then took the digicam.

Rita applied some makeup to Sylvia's face, then stood back to record the effect.

She nodded to Sebastian, who gestured to me to approach the table. It was all conducted so solemnly that it reminded me of faux rituals such as in Eyes Wide Shut and sundry horror movies.

Still, I marvelled at how well choreographed the three of their movements were. Rita might not have been a frequent guest at Sebastian and Ruby's adult happenings, but she appeared to communicate well enough with them on a subliminal level.

She approached me with a studied walk that felt more stagey than sensual. But she embraced me, and pressed her lovely, large breasts ardently against my chest. She knelt before me and took my cock in her mouth, as if it was part of some ceremony. I felt her suppress a choke, but she persisted. Neither of us actually wanted a blow-job, She to give it or me to receive it, but she went through the motions of oral cock worship nevertheless.

But when she cupped my balls, the matter became more serious. I liked the sensation that it provoked. My libido rocketed. I gently pushed her away with wide, cautionary eyes. She understood and grinned: I needed to avoid premature over-excitement. Still, I was bemused by her bizarre behaviour.

She took my hand and led me towards Ruby, who was filming our approach. I felt then that somehow this recording was not for our benefit, but for future consumption. We were the playthings for Ruby's latest toy.

Ruby panned the camera from me towards Sylvia, lying on her back on the table. I waited, unsure how to proceed, but staring with growing excitement at Sylvia's lovely profile: her flat stomach, firm naturally upstanding breasts, erect and engorged nipples, one foot drawn up almost to her bottom, and her face with its serene expression and faint, expectant smile.

Never mind the face? Her face held my rapt attention at that moment. It was transformed, beautiful; doubly so with the benefit of some minimal but effective make-up. I realised only then that I had never seen her wear makeup before. I had known many women who were transformed by some eye shadow and lipstick, perhaps most. That was the case with Sylvia. I had to revise my opinion of the potential of her facial beauty. I was still learning about women.

I went to the glass table. Sylvia lay helplessly on her back, staring up at me with a trace of fear in her eyes, or was it simply anxiety - that this would be the final proof of the success or failure of her outlandish self-therapy. It felt like the ultimate challenge. The frantic masturbation and saddle-borne dildo had been but stepping stones towards this moment of truth.

"Don't worry if it doesn't work," I whispered. "This time, we're all on your side and willing you to succeed, so why not relax and enjoy your experience, and draw inspiration from our shared love for you."

It was tosh but it sounded like the right thing to say in front of an audience at that moment. It might have been true anyway.

I kissed her lips, gently. She did not respond at first. Then she gently pursed her lips and kissed me back with a vengeance, as if forcefully energising herself into action. My body instantly flared up again, with a desire that would challenge my self-control to wait for her body to rise to a similar level of excitement. I climbed self-consciously onto the table, aware of the sexy Ruby lying on her back beneath the glass, recording my moves from below. Her softer breasts were flayed a little sideways, but she looked every inch the perfect woman, that embodied sensuality and eroticism. By contrast, Sylvia was a perfect shape but in a sterile way. She had not yet learnt all the feminine tricks of sensual teasing. But her attraction was also more complex than the obvious sexuality of ruby and Rita.

Even as my body urged me to penetrate Sylvia at once and go for it, my mind counselled restraint whilst I brought her back to full arousal. Rita provided me with distraction in the form of the small bottle of Stimuoil. It had already worked wonders for me in the tender hands of Ruby. Rita poured some into each of my palms. I knelt between Sylvia's parted thighs and leant over her to massage her breasts.

She whimpered loudly as the lotion suffused her mammary flesh with a deep warmth, stimulating her pores and triggering a renewed hormonal release. "Ohhhhh," she wailed," it feels so gooood."

Rita offered the bottle to me again. I let her pour some more of the amber liquid into my cupped palms, then applied the liquid to Sylvia's midriff and belly. She squirmed as the oil got to work, stimulating further parts of her torso with ultra-pleasurable sensations. My hands carried on moving southwards. Her brain got there ahead of me and she arched her body with increasing arousal, before relaxing and tilting up her hips better to expose her vulva to my questing hands. I placed a palm on her mons. The oestrogen-suffused mound reacted dramatically to the substance. Her belly and hips shuddered as the liquid took immediate effect. When my oiled fingers touched her labia she shrieked with the thrilling intensity of the warmth on her vulva.

She gently wriggled her hips to cope with the stimulation. She started to moan. I knelt between her spread-wide legs and lavished kisses and suckings on her labial wings. It caused sensational heat on my lips and tongue. I could feel just how effectively it must be working on her tender parts. But I knew this lotion was only a side-show. It was her hormones and her brain that would dictate the outcome of this coupling.

As my tongue moved onto her clitoris, I saw in my peripheral vision Sebastian and Rita lean in and kiss her nipples beyond my head. She let out a louder moan at the opening up of a second front on her body. Her breasts were sensitive to any person's touch, so that would excite her all the more. I teased her vaginal entrance with two fingers as I searched for her sweet spot. She wriggled her hips impatiently for me to speed up my overtures.

A muffled sound made me look up. She was kissing Sebastian who had leant his head over her. She swallowed his tongue with great passion. This was looking good to go.

My erection was once again engorged and ready for action. My cock yearned to be welcomed into her vaginal Paradise. My heart was pounding with my arousal. She let out a whimpering cry then said, "No more playing about, fill me Simon. I'm ready for you."

The final stage of the trial was at hand. I realised that I had been postponing this seminal moment of truth or tragedy. Either I would propel her body to new heights of ecstasy, or all our efforts would have been wasted. My own self-control would now be tested by full-on physical stimulation in just about the most perfectly exquisite body I could imagine. Ruby and Rita moved back to give me room. I felt their eyes on my back as I positioned my cock at Sylvia's deep pink lips. I imagined Ruby's camera-eye view from below the table glass. It thrilled my imagination.

My cock felt resistance at the vestibule to her love channel. It slipped past the first hurdle to be assailed by her automatically flexed vaginal muscles, which seized my shaft in what felt like a vice-like grip. It could have been my imagination of course, or her tormented mind constricting her muscles. That made my heart pound with excitement tinged with anxiety.

I pushed through her unwitting resistance and pressed my shaft home to the neck of her cervix. Her lower body started to curl up at the exquisite sensations washing around below her abdomen. I began to thrust and withdraw, as controlled and economical with my hip movements as I could manage. I did not want to trigger an unstoppable premature orgasm of my own before Sylvia had the chance to scale her own heights of pleasure. She moaned at each thrust, urging me to go harder, faster. I had to trust to her judgement. I did, slamming my pubic bone against hers at the end of each descent thrust. She liked that and shimmied her hips in response.

Wonderfully warm sensations were flooding my belly.

"That feels so good," she whispered. "Massage my love channel with that thick cock. Propel me up that steep slope, Simon. Push my being over the precipice."

She ran out of inspiration at that point, and gasps took over.

I wondered how often she might have rehearsed such grand words in her fantasies.

Then her body seemed to change gear. Our movements synchronised, with me pushing downwards on her clit, and she pushing her hips up to meet mine on the way down. Our groins clashed, increasing the intensity of the pounding against her clit. She expelled her breath in enforced exhalations at every collision of our hips. Her hands gripped my arms with an urgency that warned of something developing inside her.

"Think of Marshi," I whispered," helping you to reach that climax on her back. She showed you the way. Show me now what you can do."

"Yes," she whimpered. "I want to, very much. Help me..."

Her moans had turned to gasps and they now increased in cadence as her body's nerve endings stoked up on testosterone. I could sense a change. I imagined every pore in her flesh pointing upwards towards me in an exhortation for me to press harder. I refused to be outwitted into shooting my sperm prematurely inside her before she had a chance to climax. My mind slipped back to that evening in her bedroom when she urged me to masturbate her clit until my wrist lost all sense of feeling. I dragged my mind back to the present and what her body was telling me, whilst I refused to let my image of it stimulate me over the top. It would be so easy to allow a sight of her lovely body beneath me to seduce me into relaxing my self-control. Mind over matter, science over passion, I held back my spermal forces, even though they brimmed against my mental dam.

"Yes," she was saying to herself, urging her body, "yes, you can do it; come on, do it. I believe in you. Don't let me down."

It was beginning to sound more a like a forlorn whimper than a concerted urging. Were her body and her mind losing the battle?

"Yes, you can do it," I urged. "Come on Sylvia, show me how you can master your body. Relax your barriers and let your hormones do their work. Do it for me - for all of us."

"Ummm," she whimpered, "I want it, I'm doing, ah! I'm - I'm - coming, I'm coming."

As she repeated that mantra, her voice got stronger, more confident, assertive.

"Yes, I'm coming, it's coming. Come with me, Simon. I want your sperm. I - I ah, ah, ah ..."

Her voice turned into a whine as her vocal chords flew off the scale with heightened sexual tension. Then her body arched, her hips thrust upwards. She held her breath, her mouth fell open in a soundless cry. She gave an almighty gasp and let out a guttural moan as her first penis-inspired orgasm swept through her body. "Ohhhhhh," she cried out as if in pain of childbirth, then, "Oh yes, oh yes, oh yesss!" It might have been forced, but it was the relief of ecstasy making itself felt.

Then waves of orgasms flooded her abdomen, sending hot flushes up her torso to dissipate around her neck and shoulders. She pumped her hips up in a desperate bid to lengthen her abdominal pulses. "Oh, that's so good," she muttered breathily. "That's it! I'm coming again, and again."

She was laughing then at the euphoria of release of sexual tension, worry, and fear. Her body relaxed, her hormonal energy spent, and she slumped back against the cushion of the footstool. She opened her eyes wide and raised her head, staring up at me. I tried not to return her stare, concentrating still on holding back my dam.

"You've got to come too," she insisted. Make love to me. Show me how much you want me."

I was suddenly afraid to let go. I had been so used for so long to failing her that I had built my own dam of self-control, indefinitely to prolong my attempts. It had become a habit. I knew all at once what she had been going through, though not why. That was it. With that revelation, my mind released its mental barrier, and my body resumed its pumping of her loins. All the latent sensations that had been massing behind my pubic bones were now released and my own rapid ascent to my climax began. It was a joy to pump freely knowing that Sylvia had orgasmed and could now enjoy my journey towards my climax, my release of love juices inside her. Within seconds a warmth at the neck of my penis signalled my own impending hormonal crescendo, and ultimate release.

"I'm going to come. Is there more in your tank?"

She chuckled. "There's always going to be more for you."

Then she gasped as her revitalised, natural instincts kicked in. "Can I come again, together with you?" she asked.