Rub a Dub Dub Ch. 02

There seemed no hurry at all to leave the tub, the subject of dinner that evening had been settled but it was not near time when they would need to leave. Ben reached out and touched the smooth skin of Felicity's mound, an unoccupied mound and so he took immediate possession, letting his fingers part her and then stroke. The freedom to just move his hands around under the water of the tub a delight.

Denuded or hairy -- which was better? So easy to touch both at once. Brushing a hand away, in accordance with what he understood to be the etiquette, in seconds Ben was forming both sets of fingers into a penile shape and thrusting them in and out of two women. How nice it would be if it could be his penis. Did they do that? Did the men make the rounds? Last year in the tub had the three men worked their way around the women? A few thrusts in one and then onto the next. A rotation around the tub. Clockwise or anti clockwise? Did the women perhaps circle around the men in turn, dropping onto their laps in turn for a few bounces up and down? A wonderfully shared, communal, sexual intercourse. Not two people but six!

A hand to his penis. Was it the pair of the one tickling -- actually rather more than that -- his anus. A strong grasp -- not that that necessarily meant it was one of the men. This was going to be 'it' Ben knew. He had been brought to a fever pitch and was not going to be able to hold back.

As before, so difficult not to reveal the orgasm, not to clench his eyes shut but just sit there in the water as he felt his balls tighten, indeed his sphincter tighten against the invading digit as well, feel the steady, purposeful stroking as the mystery hand brought his foreskin up and over his knob and down again, Ben trying to hold it back and retain that wonderful feeling of imminent release. But it was no good, the semen had to come and it did. Underwater and out of sight his penis projected. A bullet of white or an underwater torpedo shot out from his urethral opening, not, though, to continue until reaching a target, not projected across the tub into a vagina, but instead losing way and exploding in a cloud of milky whiteness before the water whirled it away. His 'gun' was seemingly well loaded, despite the earlier 'firing' upon the island, and he enjoyed the feeling as a whole salvo of semen torpedoes left his penis. Perhaps another man was doing it at the same time or perhaps around the tub one of the women was experiencing her own powerful orgasm as a man or woman tickled her clitoris.

All so hidden and private. And again, it was no different from the day before when they finally left the tub, a hurried pulling on of swimming costumes before a swim in the lake. An excellent dinner out in town followed. It was a very content Ben who made his way home.