Sandy Ch. 03

"Anyone for a shower?"

"Good idea. Want to finish our beers before they get warm?"

"Also a good idea," and we released each other, looking at our nakedness for a moment, and then she took my hand and we returned to the living room.

"Here's looking at you," I toasted, and stared very pointedly at her breasts and pubic hair.

"And at you," she responded, staring in return, and then we emptied our cans with a long drink.

When Sandy burped on the way to the bathroom, I was reminded of the first evening with Martha, when she too had burped after downing her beer, having to think that so many little incidence recur when one does the same thing with different girls - and we were about to do another one again, showering together, peeing too?

And, indeed, when we were facing each other in the tub, Sandy murmured:

"I got to go," and then started to, looking at me and then snorting, giving her stream a pulse.

"Me too, good idea, saves water," I agreed as she smirked. This time, I took him in my hand and then directed my stream onto her thigh, then finding her pubic hair, and then up, almost to her breasts. Her nipples stood out as she watched me, at first looking surprised, but then giggling before she complained:

"That's unfair; you know I can't do that."

"I'll make it fair," I replied, and reached my hand down in her stream, directing mine down to it and then trying follow my hand as I raised it up to her pussy, catching the last of her flow as my fingers slipped between her thighs.

"You are raunchy."

"It was your idea; I didn't want you to be raunchy all alone."

"I guess so," she agreed with a snicker and smile, and then asked: "Soap?"

"Yeah, just not before I go home."

Sandy picked the soap up, and we started washing each other, passing it back and forth, doing such a thorough job on each other, that even when we washed each other's asshole, and when she washed my cock and balls, he didn't become more aroused, just nicely fuller, but still loose for her to flop around. Then we were rinsing each other off, again very thoroughly.

"I don't like the taste of soap," Sandy said as she made sure that fresh water flowed all around my cock and balls, and I agreed as I made sure there was no soap between the folds of her pussy and the cheeks of her ass, but she too didn't react as though it were arousing, just very familiar, smiling at me as I did so - as though we both knew that this was just the preliminary for what would be arousing.

And it was the same as we this time dried each other, taking turns, starting with each other's face, and then down, until we had alternately dried each other's legs and feet. When we had finished, I ask a little facetiously:

"And what are we going to do now?"

"You don't know?!"

"Well, since we aren't going to have dinner ...?"

"We could just have dessert. ... Oh, and I want to practice a little of what I learned yesterday."

"That's a good idea; you wouldn't want to forget."

By then, we had left the bathroom, when it suddenly occurred to me that I had forgotten to shave. When I asked if she wanted me to, she stroked my cheek and said:

"Not right now," and then snickered and added:

"Yesterday I had my thighs so wide open that it probably didn't make any difference."

We had paused by the bedroom door. I nodded with a grin, and then tilted my head questioningly towards the bedroom. Sandy led me into the room, remarking:

"It's not so fresh as yesterday; I slept in it last night."

"As long as no one else did, ..."

She flung back the bedspread and top sheet and turned and looked at me: her arms down at her sides with the palms turned forward so that her forearms stood slightly away from her hips, very naked with her pubic hair - not an idealized artist's nude posing detachedly - naked, waiting, offering herself, with the open bed so suggestive of how. And her nipples stiffened as I looked at her, feeling my cock stir slightly.

"Um-hmm," she murmured, perhaps having noticed; she was looking at him:

"I'm not curious any more; I know what I want, ... what I like. ... And you?"

"I want you to have it. Lie down."

She did, stepping back and sitting on the bed, and then turning to lie on her back with her head on the pillow, again in a position of offering herself: her hand at her sides, her thighs relaxed and open as she looked up at me, now standing over her, seeing her aroused nipples, her firm breasts hardly sagging to the sides, and her intense, waiting eyes as her tongue wet her lips, her eyes shifting once to my cock and then back to mine.

"What do you want?" she asked as her near hand rose towards my sex.

The thought of a superficial, maybe witty response faded as I recognized how aroused she was, her fingers stroking behind my balls, as if to draw them to her.

"I want my dessert, too," I replied softly, and let her fingers' urging draw me closer to the bed. Her thighs twitched open as her pelvis rocked up in a reflex and she nodded, her mouth now open, anticipating my cock, as her fingers caught the skin at the back of my sack and firmly drew at it, almost forcing me to kneel on the edge of the bed as I placed one hand next to her hip, supporting myself as I swung my leg over her, her grasp on my sack continuing until I was astraddle of her and felt her other hand find my cock, not yet fully stiff.

I grasped her hips and with a lunge pulled her down the bed. She gasped, her thighs flopping open as her knees drew up, her feet staying where they were, and now my knees were level with her head, but she could only kiss the head of my cock by drawing it back and raising her head, and she soon wasn't going to be able to force it back so far. I slid my knees back further, and at her urging, further again as my hands clutched her ass and I looked at her pussy: her hair under my chin, and then the curve of her mons, the start of her slit, her lips already a little engorged, showing their pink inner edges, moist. I wanted to open them with my fingers, to be able to see her open pussy before I kissed it. My fingers crept around her ass until they could extend up between her thighs and draw her lips open. Mmmm!

But also "Mmmm!" her other lips had taken the head of my cock between them, allowing her to suck it deeper, and now her hands were sliding around my hips, drawing them closer as she caressed him with her tongue, and I let my knees slide a little further to help let her suck him as deep as she wanted. Then she was just caressing him, arousing enough, but still I could enjoy for a moment the view of her open pussy. Oh yes, it was very inviting, all moist between her lips and her pink inner lips, and her hole, her clitoris still hidden. I dropped my head between her thighs and covered as much of her opening as I could, my mouth wide open as my tongue lapped the length of her pussy and back, finding the hood of her clitoris, making her gasp slightly, sucking fresh air into her mouth, and then we settled down to enjoying what each of us was doing, enjoying our dessert as much we were enjoying what the other was doing.

Sandy had said how much she enjoyed the thought that she was giving me pleasure, giving a cock pleasure; and I had told her that the longer it took the better it was, the better it would be for her - getting an extra helping. Maybe I was distracting her from concentrating too much on getting it yet. I hoped so, but even so, she was making it almost too good for my cock, I felt my balls draw. Oh, she was letting him slip from her mouth, urging me to raise my hips. Had she seen that they had drawn up?

Letting my cock bob free, she pressed on the back of my ass, and I let her move me, my head dropping lower between her thighs my tongue exploring the back of her slit and the firm area below it. Oooh! She had raised her head and was trying to catch my tight, wrinkled skin with her teeth, now opening her mouth wider, half around one of my balls, but now gently letting it slip free as she held my skin and pulled at it, almost hurting me with her teeth, but exactly what I needed, still pulling at it for a few moments, and then getting another grip with her teeth.

"Ummm! Good!" I encouraged her, delighting at her inventiveness as my tongue explored as far down as it could, just suggesting an interest in finding her asshole. Her tongue was now testing the softness of my sack, and then she clutched my ass to raise her head, pressing her open mouth around one of my balls, sucking, and then gently holding it as her tongue moved on my skin. Then she let it go and relaxed her head. Her hand slipped around my hip and found my cock, drawing it back to her mouth as her other hand urged me to move my hips back, and then she had him in her mouth again, like that time with my sister on the sofa, letting him start over.

Trying to ignore what she was doing to him, I did everything I could to enjoy her pussy, and after my tongue's exploring, my fingers crept in towards her asshole - we had promised each other that for the "next time," this time. Before they found it, her fingers were trying to find mine, her mouth almost still as they crept down, she nodding slightly as I touched hers, and then I nodding when she found mine, and I made it move, and she responded, and then I buried my nose between her pussy lips and found her clitoris as she sucked again on my cock, and then everything was pure, unconscious reflex as our lips and tongues and fingers and assholes moved, our pelvises rocking slowly, my finger with more initiative than hers, feeling her asshole contract as I imagined that I could feel the ring around her hole move on my nose - maybe it did.

Then my pelvis began to twitch, fucking my cock in her mouth. Her other hand clutched it to control its movement, and then she gave a sharp "uhnn!" as I started to spurt, and her own hips went wild, pumping, and her thighs clasping my head, as she spurted past my nose, her asshole drawing my finger deeper as we both spurted, and her fingers pressed around my asshole as I lapped up a spurt of her sweet love juice and then returned to her clitoris. When my orgasm was over, she just gasped around my cock, moaning and gasping as hers continued, until her hand pressed my face from her pussy, and then she collapsed, her thighs flopping open, flat on the bed, as she turned her head to let my cock slip free.

With a gasp of my own, I rolled on my side, my head on her thigh, hugging her still body with my arm around her hips and with my leg across her breasts. Her stomach was rising and falling with deep breaths, exhaling with little whimpers.

I almost dozed off. At least, it seemed that I was awakened when Sandy stirred, extending her other leg and then rolling towards me. I drew my leg up as a cushion for her head, and she raised it and then let it rest heavily on my thigh. Then we were still for another long period, again almost dozing, at least, with no thoughts.

Then she urged me to remove my leg. When I had propped it up with my foot near her head, she gently fondled my cock and balls for a moment, and then just stroked them a couple of times, like one would do with a pet. Finally she murmured:

"Oh gosh! I didn't know it would be that good. ... I didn't even hope it could be. ... Hmm! Know to hope that it could be."

After a moment or two, I agreed:

"It sure was, for me too. ... Yes, it was impressive, it really was good, both ways."

"Hmm! I noticed. I kind of forgot that I wanted it be good for you too."

"It was. And I wanted to make you forget."

"That's sweet. Thanks. You sure did."

I started to sit up, and then gave Sandy a hand, she sitting where her ass had been.

"Oooh, did I do all that? So much for my fresh bed," and she grinned at me.

"Well, I helped a little, I think."

"Not just a little, a whole bunch." She looked at me a bit wryly and went on:

"And ... uh, I guess one finger in my asshole is as good as two in my cunt. ... Geez! I never talked like this before!" and she looked at me with funny expression, then after a moment went on:

"Anyway, what was I about to say? ... Yeah, ... well, I never really tried it without, after I discovered that two was better than one, you know, with him. No reason to; I knew what worked. Besides it feels so good, squirming them in my slippery hole."

She looked at me again as though she were surprised at what she had said. I agreed with a smile, nodding:

"It sure does, ... same with me, ... well, different, of course, I don't just like to feel my balls moving, but like the feel of them in my hand."

We both chuckled at this sharing of details, and Sandy reached over, having to lean forward, and fondled them as she said:

"I do too."

We both chuckled again as she sat up, and I asked if she wanted some wine. She did, so we both got up and went to the kitchen. She got the glasses while I opened the bottle and then poured. We toasted each other silently and drank. When I picked up the bottle, she asked:

"Where?"

"Let's go back to the bedroom."

"Yeah, 'good idea'," and she smiled at me after her using the expression that had become a sort of leitmotif.

In the bedroom, I set down the bottle of wine and we got on the bed with our glasses, spilling a little before we got settled with the pillows against the headboard and my arm around her shoulders, and then had another sip.

"Good thing it is white wine, or did you plan for this? Have you done this before?"

"What? Well, I'm not a virgin."

"No, silly, drink wine in bed."

"Oh, I was afraid you were going to ask something personal. ... Hmm? ... No, actually, not

ever. We don't do that at our house."

"I hadn't thought so. ... Uh, ... not even with the Norwegian girl?

"Now you are getting personal, but not even with her. ... Don't start getting jealous."

"Oh, I'm not. How could I? If there was anything, it was probably before we met."

"Actually not, the first week on the job, but we really only met on Friday evening."

"Oh, you did! Lucky her! ... That's a compliment. I'm not going to ask anything else.

"Cheers, to your great tact."

We both chuckled and then drank, and then were silent. I wanted to tell Sandy about how Martha had said the first evening that she would be in her room, somehow likening that to all Sandy's "subtle" actions the night before, but thought better of reopening the subject. After our drink, Sandy had very familiarly placed her hand on my sex, just resting her hand on it. Then after a few moments, almost absentmindedly, she caught a bit of the loose skin on my cock and raised it, shaking it slightly, letting it drop, and then doing it again, and then just dug her fingers a bit into my hair.

"And have you done this before, ... the wine? She glanced over at me slightly with mild snort:

"A couple of times. Hm-hmm. ... Yeah, that's funny, and did what I just did," and she did it again, adding: "I might not have remembered if you hadn't asked."

"Yes, I know, some things just repeat themselves when you're in the same situation."

"Um-hmm ... yeah ..." and she turned her head and smiled at me and then did it again.

There was another silence, but not an uncomfortable one. One after the other, we each had another sip of wine. I let the hand around her shoulder slip down and hold her breast, and she took hers off me and held the back of my hand. Just very comfortable, not worrying about having to say anything, having to think of something to say. Then Sandy spoke:

"I like this, ..." and squeezed my hand: "it's so easy, two people just doing something they enjoy, that makes them feel good, that makes each other feel good. ... I just like it," and she squeezed the back of my hand again.

I squeezed her breast and agreed:

"I wish I had said that. It sounds a little ... too ... just 'seconding the motion' to say 'me too'."

"Um-hmm, but you didn't. I just happen to say it first. I like that: most of the time you come up with the 'good ideas' first.

"This time, you certainly did, ... and it was a lot better one than some of the others. Well, they weren't bad, just not as meaningful."

"I like that too, thanks. ... What time is it?"

I looked at my watch: "A little past seven."

"Really! So early? I guess so; it's still light. ... And some people are just starting their date, and wondering if maybe something is going to happen - or knowing it won't. I think we're doing this right. Maybe we got off to a flying start yesterday, but so what? I like it."

"We like it."

Sandy grinned at me and reached back down and picked up my cock like before, shaking it, both of us watch his head swing back and forth, and then released it and cupped my soft cock and balls in her hand, snorting, and then saying:

"A Tennessee handshake."

"Really?"

"A girl said that her brother told her that was a name for it. ... But maybe among men it isn't meant the same way."

"Either way, you got me by the balls."

"Um-hmm, a sign of familiarity and trust. Well, I guess the trust is all on your side."

"Um-hmm, very much, I do."

"I do too, but remind me to take my pill."

"Hmm! Yeah, I guess that is a logical connection. I've got a small army of Greek soldiers, if that is what you are thinking of.

"Greek soldiers?"

"Trojans."

"Oh, I've some of them. A friend gave them to me.

"But not your boyfriend?"

"No, since then I have had the pill. Made my boobs grow."

"Nice," and I fondled the one in my hand.

"Um-hmm."

"Hmm, maybe that's the problem with my sister."

"The one you were on Fire Island with?!

I felt myself start to blush, even though I hadn't meant her:

"Oh no, my older one. She's married now, and ... well, ... has more than anyone needs, ... had ample before."

"Hmm! Yeah, maybe the more you have, the more you get, ... sort of a percentage thing. ... "Cheers, I like what I got," and Sandy raised her glass.

"I do too, Cheers," and we drank as I held her "boob" a little more closely.

There wasn't much left in our glasses, and I offered to pour some more. Sandy took my glass so that I could reach for the bottle and held them both out so that I could fill them. We held them for a few moments, and then drank again, and were silent. Sandy's hand found my sex again, her fingers creeping under my balls so that she could hold them in her hand. For lack of anything else to do, we both took another sip of wine. Her fingers absently moved my balls a bit, and then my cock stirred, but she didn't say anything, but when he did again, I felt her nipple tighten briefly, and then after a moment she asked:

"He's not trying to tell me something, is he?" and rubbed her thumb on him.

"I don't think so. He's just like that, does it when I hold them, too."

"Hm-hmm! ... Yeah, that's nice. Sometimes my pussy just likes to be held, ... like last night. ... It sure didn't want any more."

"He didn't either," but he moved again, now warm on my thigh.

"Hmm, then maybe I better take my hand away." She did, but then made him swing again, now not so floppy, and let him drop, but this time he didn't flop down like before, just sinking and then rolling towards my thigh. We both snorted slightly and took another drink. Then we watched him slowly become smaller. Sandy almost started say something, but then only murmured:

"I guess I shouldn't say that."

"What? ... That they look funnier with a foreskin?"

"How did you know? How do you know?" she asked surprised.

"Martha ... , the Norwegian, told me."

Sandy snorted and grinned over to me, but didn't say anything. When we had had another drink, she said that she wanted to go to the bathroom and handed me her glass and got up. Hearing her using the toilet inspired me to the same idea. I set down the glasses and followed her, finding her washing herself. She seemed unconcerned and just snickered when I said: