Rub a Dub Dub Ch. 03

Chapter 3 - The darkness of the night

Sexual relations with a whole group of people -- five in fact -- yet knowing only to a limited extent with whom he was actually 'relating' at any one time, was just a bit different from Ben's norm. But on holiday things are meant to be different and new -- exploring new places and doing different things -- if your preference is not merely to lie upon the beach and soak up the sun.

Ben had been fingered in the hot tub by probably five different people but had not known who, individually, was doing the fingering, had not even known the sex of the person. He had, though, known whom he was touching and had, indeed, touched all five. A particularly new experience as regards two of them -- Greg and Graham. Exploring 'new places' and doing 'different things,' indeed!

Exploring new places and doing different things was what Ben did the next day. He had already booked himself on a tour before he met Mary and co. and that involved a very busy day of being taken by coach to see all sorts of sights and places. It was only in the evening that he made his way along the water's edge to his new friends' house. He had promised to pop in for a 'nightcap.' In reality, he had been sort of loath to leave the hotel, feeling, as he was, very tired after his busy day and pleasantly full from his dinner, but the walking refreshed him, though it was lucky he had taken a torch. Without a moon, the stars did not give that much light to see by. Certainly not when light cloud slowly moved across the sky. It was obvious they had seen him coming along the lake's shore by the wavering light of his torch.

Calls of greeting but when Ben flashed the torch in the direction of voices he saw naked people by the lake. He dropped the beam.

"We were about to go for a dip. You going to join us?"

Ben had showered after his day trip but was not averse to a swim. He left his now switched off torch with his clothes -- hoping he could find them again in the darkness. It really was dark without the torch.

There was something rather exciting of leaving all his clothes behind and walking stark naked towards a group of voices. New friends, new friends he had been naked with in the hot tub before but not on the lake shore -- at least not with them naked as well. They were naked too, he had seen that - if only briefly. Not enough to determine if they were sexually aroused. But the thought of it, walking towards sexual intimacy - perhaps. Below he felt a stirring which only fuelled his excitement. Walking towards virtual strangers in the warm darkness with his sexual organ somewhat enlarged. Thoughts of warm pussies perhaps already wet. Three pussies and now three cocks. A perfect symmetry! Might there be more than touching -- more than wanking?

"Ben! And how has your day been?"

"Did your trip go well?"

Disembodied voices in the darkness. Was he meant to shake hands even embrace as a greeting? Potentially embarrassing as he could neither see hands nor what he might touch when embracing -- or indeed where his penis might poke.

He found himself talking the more to Greg and Graham, knowing by their voices they were over to his right and left but lost track of where the women were standing. Or rather where they were because he soon found at least one was not standing still. Remarkable to feel a touch to his skin and then more contact. A body -- it had to be female, Greg and Graham were not that close and, in any case, to his front -- right behind him, pressing closer to him, warm skin to his back and bottom, naked breasts being pressed against his back with the nipples hard. A hand slowly sliding around his hip and closing in upon his penis, feeling it, perhaps establishing it was hard and then stroking it. Gently easing the foreskin down and then up again. The other hand coming around and cupping his balls.

Ben kept talking but it was not that easy doing so whilst being so deliciously wanked by one of the girls. He wondered if the same was happening to the other men. Were they in effect three men in a circle having a chat in a most unusual circumstance? If they could see would they find they were all pointing with their pricks at each other; each held by a woman from behind, as they talked; each being masturbated by a feminine hand and each at risk of spurting at the others. A risk of warm droplets of cum falling upon another man's feet -- or worse.

He had no idea what was happening, other than to him. Greg and Graham were talking as normally as anything. And then the hand disappeared from his penis as he felt the woman came around from behind, her fingertips trailing across his skin. She reached down and held his hands, moving them out and away, before he could raise them to feel her; placed a soft, warm thigh in one of them and then took his penis and placed it between her legs, not merely placed but inserted it into her body. One moment Ben was being gently wanked by the woman, the next he was... inside her. He was standing and talking to Greg and Graham in the darkness whilst being fucked; a hot and wet sheath was being slid slowly down his cock. He did not know if it was Mary, Felicity or Liz. Did not know if he was, perhaps, fucking Greg or Graham's wife right there in front of them whilst he talked to them. So sudden and, in the particularity, so unexpected. But again, was that what was happening to Greg and Graham? Not knowing if it was their own wife upon their cocks or one of the other women. It was quite extraordinary -- not having any idea who you were fucking -- who your penis was within. Was this another of their strange games. Copulation without knowing your partner, like at a naked masked ball!

"This is all very nice -- having a chat -- but shall we have that dip in the lake. Rather exciting in the pitch darkness. Don't swim out too far and get disorientated. Don't really want to get the boat out and find you with a torch!" Greg's voice, clearly directed at Ben.

The woman disengaged herself, the hot and wet sheath slipped off his knob and was gone. Who had it been? She had left his penis all wet. He felt it, stroked it a few times, brought his fingers upwards and both tasted and took in the woman's scent. It had all been so sexual. Anonymous fucking in the warm darkness. A hand to his shoulder.

"You coming?" Graham's voice.

Ben was tempted to say, 'not quite, but not far off!" but instead said, "yeah, I fancy a swim."

He walked with Graham. Was the other man as hard as him? Was Graham's penis wet with the sexual juice of one of the other women? He almost wished Graham's hand would come and grasp his, like in the tub, he rather wanted the excuse to find out about Graham's cock. Was it hard... and wet? Had there been light what would they have looked like walking down to the lake?

Perhaps a little chilly getting into the water. but once in, the water did not feel at all like that. No wind, no lapping water on the shore; a wonderful silence as Ben swam contentedly through the silken water. A strange feeling to be swimming in darkness. A delightful peace and tranquillity. If not for the sounds of the others, faint sounds of their bodies moving through the water, Ben could so easily see how one might swim the wrong way in complete disorientation. A danger if alone. He put his feet down. No bottom. Out of his depth! Not panic, but just a feeling of unease. What if the sound of the others was actually from beyond him in the lake, what if they were swimming the wrong way? Would he be following them into danger?

Not a bit of it, swimming up and close to them his feet struck bottom. Perhaps they had been more wary of Greg's warning. He kept close to them, unwilling again to go swimming any distance in the silence and dark -- however seductively lovely it had been.

The water after the sun went down was warm enough, but after a time even with a certain amount of swimming and fooling about the temperature of their naked bodies seemed to drop. Upon their skin goose pimples rising. It was time to come up out of the water and dry and dress themselves or, perhaps instead, move to warmer water.

"Hot tub?" Suggested Mary to general agreement.

Ben had walked down to the water strongly erect. Now as he followed the others back up the grass to the house he knew his penis was anything but! A poor, shrivelled thing in comparison and, whether or not the other men had been proudly tumescent, they would not be that now. The darkness still complete.

"Ben?" It was Mary's voice. "Where are you? I'd better guide you. You won't know the way as well as us."

Her hand seeking his and leading him. Ben smiled to himself. His hand rather easier to find than his now little penis. But the thought of the women leading the men with their hands on their cocks nonetheless coming to his mind. Or walking in a crocodile. What would the men lead the women with? Well... fingers hooked up into vaginas perhaps!

He followed Mary up into the tub in the darkness. Looking up he very much thought about what he might have seen had there been light. That wonderful view you get of women from behind if they bend over or are climbing up above you -- if they are naked or knickerless under a short skirt of course. The lovely way their outer labia come together protectively, smooth skin with a divide like, like... a meringue before the cream goes in, or a hot dog before the dog is place within! Ben smiled at his private similes. And, of course, he would see her anal opening, all wrinkled and revealed. The little brown 'rosebud.' Did Greg travel that way with her? Did Graham, had Peter last year, might... Ben swallowed. What might happen in the next few days?

A joy to settle down into the hot water between two of the others. Not that he knew who they were. So different from the lake, lovely as that had been. The bubbling of the water and the caress of its warmth. Ben leant back against the wood and closed his eyes -- not that that made any difference to what he was seeing! It was dark. He could not see a thing. Silence had descended upon the group; all, no doubt, relaxing and basking in the sensory pleasure of the warm water after their cooling in the lake.

Still no sound from the group when, a few minutes later - and just when Ben had half gone to sleep - he felt a hand float over and come to rest upon his genitalia. A female hand, a male hand? Did it matter? Not one jot. Whosoever owned the gently cupping hand would know what to do. In his mind came thoughts of a pretty girl where he worked, imagining it was her hand. Quite why she would be in a hot tub with him naked, still less having her hand over his cock, did not really need explaining. It was just a very pleasing idea. A cupping, and then a a very slow easing back of his foreskin, bringing his sensitive smooth glans out into the hot water as his penis grew. So sensual, so erotic, so very -- comfortable. It was lovely.

Ben opened his eyes but in the darkness he could see nothing. It meant he could reach and touch the others without having to be careful that his shoulders gave nothing away. The swirling water had been discreet in the day: the darkness of the night was even more discreet. Ben's hands raised themselves from his thighs up through the water ready to go exploring.

The touch to his penis was delicate. Surely female -- though did he not treat his penis delicately sometimes, especially when close to cumming? Thoughts still of his colleague. What would it be like to touch her? How good to be, strangely, in a hot tub with her and feel her hand upon him stroking. He would not have dared touch, but with her making the move...

Ben reached out and touched not what he had been aiming for, the smooth thighs of one of the girls, but the upstanding penis of one of the men. All at once there in his hand. He could hardly snatch his hand away, that seemed not at all the etiquette of the hot tub. He squeezed and began to stroke, moving the skin up and down as if it was his own. Ben was, after all, well-practised at wanking a cock. What if in the hot tub with his colleague he had reached and found 'she' was not so much a 'she' as he had thought! What would he do, what would he say: 'I hadn't expected one of those?'

Lovely to be sitting so comfortably warm in the darkness and have a hand wanking him. He moved his hand upon Graham or Greg's cock in time with the hand upon his own. It was sort of like wanking himself but with his hand in the wrong place -- not at his groin. Ben reached again and his hand found, yet again, a penis; the other penis, not the womanly parts he was seeking. Not the most successful of 'lucky dips' in the 'bran tub.' It was not erect but he felt it growing in his hand. Another new experience. Ben had, of course, both made and seen his own grow but feeling another man's did emphasise just how much the organ increased in size and how strongly it sought to stand upright.

Three cocks being wanked under the water but were the girls being fingered? Did the men he was wanking have their hands full? Were the women playing with each other? An exciting thought. The secretness of the hot tub had its own eroticism but Ben would like to have seen the girls playing with each other. The three of them together, not two but three; fingers in pussies, fingers fondling breasts, mouths sucking upon their nipples -- perhaps even kissing.

Hands upon his own, relieving him of his wanking duties. Ben let his right hand move on, anxious to delve into one or more of the girls before the gently moving hand on his own penis added to the volume of the liquid within the tub.

A smooth thigh, soft skin to travel along to find what he was seeking -- so good to touch, so pleasing to squeeze the woman's labia together, closing the protective outer lips over her sex and then massaging. The lips had hair, so it was either Mary or Liz not denuded Felicity -- an easy deduction! He rolled the lips knowing his actions would be transmitted to the more sensitive inner flesh, a finger even slipping along the divide between the squeezed together labia. And then he opened the woman, fingers pulling her lips apart, opening her clam. Inner lips, vaginal opening, pee hole, clitoris, clitoral hood -- all her bits there for him to touch; was he about finger fuck Greg's wife Mary or Peter's wife Liz? Might, at some point, it not be his fingers but his cock inside feeling the warmth? If the woman he was touching all at once mounted him would he know if it was Mary or Liz? Surely sexual intercourse would happen at some point -- after all there had been that brief fuck down at the water's edge. So unexpected. Had his penis already been there? He touched her opening, rested a finger just inside; were his finger now where his penis had so briefly been -- or had it been within the other woman with pubic hair, or Felicity? The anonymity so weird. Whose hand was stroking him? Male or female? He could not judge its size.

He was about to really finger fuck, only another hand came over his own and he yielded possession, just as a second hand came to his own cock and the fingers stroking him changed and set up a different rhythm.

Other women to touch, two other women to feel in the water of the tub. They were not exactly far away. In the comfortable silence Ben felt and found another pussy to stroke. Not so much a 'Sphynx cat' (a hairless breed of cat) as Felicity! How good to be remarkably intimate with her and carry on doing just what he had been about to do to Mary -- or had that been Liz? His fingers, and there were more than one of them, touching her hairless mound, slipping between her legs and sliding easily up into her. Quite amazing to be sitting there in the darkness and warmth, feeling women -- and men.

Ben had to remove the hand from his penis to prevent an early ending, an early release of his pleasure. He sat there with his penis comfortably erect but now untouched, yet still feeling and stimulating Felicity. The trouble, he thought, with this hidden, unspoken mutual wanking was how to know when everyone -- else -- had finished or rather 'come.' It would not actually matter in the darkness that day if they all agreed it was time for another swim. No one would see him getting out of the water all hard.

Another hand on his and he yielded possession of Felicity. He checked on where he knew one of the men was and, as was customary, as he touched, someone else's hand slipped away leaving him to grasp. Would he really believe when back in England that he had been sitting in pitch blackness, in a tub, wanking another man -- whose identity he only knew to the extent of it being one of two? Up and down, moving the freely moving skin upon the cock, feeling just how solid it was. It could almost be a bone within it not simply pumped and pressured blood.

Another hand and he returned to Felicity, rather liking knowing who he was touching, rather wanting the knowledge he had brought her off. He worked at her and felt another hand coming to his 'free' penis. Perhaps it was her hand, perhaps they were engaged in the more normal activity of mutual pleasuring rather than the rather odd communal masturbation.

Ben thought he achieved his object; he thought the rather enthusiastic pushing down by Felicity at and on his upthrust fingers denoted an orgasm. The female orgasm was closely followed by his own. No holding back as the unknown person's fingers worked him. Up and down in the almost vaginal warmth of the hot tub, his skin being moved and then the thing happened -- the salvo of white torpedoes once more; not really in a 'spread pattern' but, nonetheless, with the swirling water it was not like ejaculation within a vagina with a single target, he was firing at everyone in the tub. He would miss not one of them, anymore that when Greg or Graham came, they would miss him. A strange sexuality. All the men's semen would be surrounding them all.

As his penis began to wilt the hand left it and he withdrew his hand from Felicity and settled back with his eyes closed in the afterglow of a very satisfactory 'cum.'

It was some minutes later that he found himself waking to the sound of the others talking. He had dozed off as he so often did in bed after a nice wank.

"I'd better be going."

Protests, but really it was time. A clambering out in the darkness and walking dripping down the grass, downhill to the lake and his clothes. He did find them, and his torch, but it did take a little time!

Dressed and with his torch once more wavering before him he walked back along the lake shore. So tranquil, so lovely -- and how good the swim and then the hot tub and, of course, the wanking. Ben had expected a quiet holiday fishing. It had been quiet enough in the tub -- and he had certainly gone 'fishing' for pussies and cocks! He was glad, after all, that he had gone out after supper and had not stayed back at the hotel and merely gone to bed. Bed, though, beckoned and Ben made his way retracing his evening walk.