Sandy Ch. 07

PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
leBonhomme
leBonhomme
690 Followers

Still standing, we finished our beers and got fresh ones and returned to her bed. When we had settled down, I asked:

"What about Vivienne? "

"Do I think she wants to do it again? I don't know, but she didn't sound like she didn't want to. This morning we didn't talk about it. You mean Friday?"

"Yeah, I was thinking about it last night ..."

"Doing what I was doing?" and she smirked.

"As good as I could, ... real good. I didn't know in whose mouth I wanted to come."

"Mine, I hope."

"Yeah, I was afraid Viv might be upset by so much and not want to finish."

"I would have."

"I know, that's why it was 'real good'."

"Mine was just good. I can't do everything you can."

"My good luck," I replied, realizing again that some conversations about sex repeat themselves.

"Um-hmm, and mine too, learning that from you. Before, I could do it as good as anything I had experienced with a male."

"And Vivienne, Friday? I can't see us just coming here and all jumping into bed."

"Me neither. I thought about that a little, too. I just can't see us coming back and taking a shower together - with or without her - and she taking off her clothes to join us."

"Nope, me neither, nor you asking her if she wants to - at all - or how she would envision the evening starting."

"You're so right!"

We sipped our beers in silence for a minute or two.

"I'll just have to play it by ear, ..." Sandy remarked:

"Maybe something will work out, ... or maybe it won't."

"My offer for dinner still stands."

"Hmm, that would be the worst solution."

"But something to eat right now would be a 'good idea."

"Um-hmm, something to chew."

"Besides my cock and your nipples."

We smirked at each other and got up and went back to the kitchen. We looked in the refrigerator and found most of a dozen eggs and ham and cheese and pepperoni sausage, which suggested an omelet to me. Sandy liked my suggestion, and I did my best, also finding some fresh parsley. When she wondered at my using six eggs, I told that the Germans thought they increased a man's sex drive and that "eggs" in German was an expression for their balls.

She liked that:

"Oh, that's good, not that you seem to need any more. How many times did we do it?

"Once each, twice - together - really three times; you made me come twice, and ..."

"Oh, that was good. Mine counted at least for twice, too."

"and then eating each other again, four times. Maybe I do need some eggs."

Sandy smirked with a snicker and remarked:

"But then you have to do it again."

"I don't know if they work that fast."

"I'll help."

"Then stir my eggs while I cut up the ham and sausage, ... just don't beat them."

Sandy grinned and fondled me for a moment and then snickered and said:

"I wonder how they would taste if we made them with your ... 'milk' and my 'water'?"

We laughed, and I replied:

"I'm sure we would like them. Next time, but then you're going to miss out on a portion."

"Hm-hmm! And you too."

"Not really; you always come more than I can capture, and I'll still have fun making you."

"Me too. I wonder how much it can be."

"Enough to scramble eggs."

"Really, you think so?"

"Enough to stir my eggs."

"I think I will beat them," and with a snicker Sandy applied her fork vigorously to the bowl of eggs."

"Ouch," I responded with a chuckle, and she grinned at me as she stirred them even faster, but then slowed down.

While the omelet was cooking, Sandy fondled me again, without much effect, and then with a grin dropped to her knees and sucked him into her mouth, almost all of him, sucking and licking, distracting me as I turned the omelet, eventually getting a response from him as it was almost done.

"Supper's ready," I remarked as I turned off the stove. Sandy nodded and grasped my cock, letting him slip from her mouth and pulling down on him to help herself stand up. She gave him tap, making him wag as she said:

"I just wanted to know if he still could. I just love that."

"I do too, but now you can eat something else."

"Smells good."

And it was good, nice and spicy with enough ham and sausage to chew. We finished it quickly, Sandy saying how much she liked it. We finished our beers with a "skaal," and I was wondering what we do then and asked Sandy. She grinned at me and replied:

"I don't really need to do it again, but I'd love to finish what I started before in the kitchen."

"Hmm, the omelet wasn't enough to satisfy you. You still want to stir my eggs."

She smirked with a nod and agreed:

"Something like that, ... if you want?"

"If you want to, it would be impolite to refuse, ... and a hard offer to refuse."

"I do."

"You may have to start all over."

"Oh, that's good," and she grinned and stood up.

"Where?"

"Just turn your chair, here."

I did, and she came around the table and knelt down as I slid my hips forward, and then a little bit more, in case she wanted to find my asshole.

"Um-hmm," she nodded with a smile, as though she understood as I leaned back and watched her fondle my slack sack and balls. She picked him up by the loose skin and shook him back and forth, glancing up at me with a smile, then licking her lips before she lowered her head, sticking her tongue out to raise him into her mouth, her warm lips closing around him, and then she sucked him into her mouth, burying her nose in my hair, just holding him warm in her mouth. She knew he wouldn't let her hold so much of him for long, and he didn't. She hummed in recognition as he began to grow, holding him gently with her teeth.

"Ummm, that feels good, so warm and intimate, knowing you love to hold him."

Sandy nodded, humming again, making him grow more, pushing against the curve of her palate. Slowly she had to let some of him slip from between her lips, her teeth scratching gently, and then she began to move her tongue on him.

"Ummm! I just love that - he does - you're spoiling us. I hope it takes a long time."

Sandy nodded with an "um-hmm," and without seeing her lips I could see that she had smiled. She drew her head up a bit so that she could explore all around him with her tongue, circling his head with it. Her fingers were holding and rubbing the skin of my soft sack. The tip of her tongue found his little hole.

"Can you taste him yet?" She shook her head with an "Hn-unn".

"That's good. He just wants to enjoy what you're doing. He's kind of lazy and likes to be spoiled. Sandy snickered in her throat with a nod and sucked him deeper, and then kept nodding slowly.

"Yeah, like that. ... Mmmm!" and he twitched.

"It's kind of unfair; you can do absolutely everything he wants - hmm! - but my tongue can't, for you." She added a quick nod to her slow movement on him as her fingers continued to massage my sack and balls. When he twitched again, her fingers dug into my sack, and she again drew her head up so that she could lick around him.

"You can taste him now?" She nodded again as her tongue caressed him, and then let him slip out of her mouth - all shiny with a drop oozing out his hole. She looked up at me with a smile and another nod as her fingers rubbed and pulled my tight sack. Licking her lips, she replied:

"Um-hmm, yes, good, a lot," and smiled again as she looked back down at him and licked up the drop, making him surge.

"You want to fuck?" I offered.

"Hm-umm, I want this," and she licked him again, this time holding him down with her other hand so that she could lick all around him.

"Are you sure?"

"Um-hmm. I don't need any more - tonight," and she glanced up at me with a snicker and moved my balls in my softening sack, gathering them into her palm and scratching behind them and then scratching as far back as her fingers could reach as she smirked and added:

"I'm going to do that, too."

"If you want to," I replied and shifted my weight to one side and reached down and pulled the other cheek of my ass to the side. Sandy snickered with a nod and "um-hmm, and asked:

"I wonder what it's like with ..." - she glanced down and moved my cock - "the other kind, ... you know?"

"Martha wondered about that, too. She was planning to find out. That's the way most of them in Norway are."

"Hm-hm-hmm! I think we could have had fun together with her."

"I'm sure, ... she was curious too."

"Hmm! Pity she's gone home. I'm going to have to wait ... and not just for my boyfriend to return."

"It really won't make much difference after you start. ... That was Martha's idea, before you ask me how I know."

"Hm-hm-hmm! I was about to." She moved him again, and this time his head wobbled back and forth. She looked down at him and remarked:

"But maybe like he is now ... or will be, if I don't start again."

And she did, first licking around his hole and then sucking him deeper into her mouth, sucking and licking and then beginning to move her head again. Her fingers crept back to my asshole and found it, rubbing over it. I tightened it and made my cock surge, and Sandy nodded in response, finding its center when I relaxed, pressing on it and moving it.

"Um-hmm, that feels good," I murmured, and she did it some more, chuckling softly when it tightened again and he twitched in her mouth, and then pressing deeper when it relaxed, making it move in a reflex, now holding her finger tip, and then it seemed to draw it deeper, tightening and relaxing as she wiggled it.

"Uhnn! Yes, like that, ... un-hnn!" I murmured at the arousing sensation, my cock surging as it tightened on her finger.

"Uhnn! You know just how that feels."

Sandy nodded with an "un-hnn" and moved it more. My stomach drew in as my pelvis twitched, thrusting him up into her mouth and my asshole forward on her finger. And then I was just gasping and moaning as my pelvis rocked up and down, helping her arouse me both places.

It was so good! Taking so long! Almost too good, too good to bear, the sensation of her moving finger and eager mouth, trying to meet the movement of my hips as she sucked - panting slightly, herself, with little moans. She wanted it as much as I did! And now clutching him tightly with her other hand, like her aroused pussy would; she loved to be fucked in her mouth and to have it, to know how good she was making it for me, wanting the proof of my pleasure!

With a loud groan, I gave it to her. I don't know how much, but she didn't stop until she was sure she had gotten it all. Relieved, I relaxed, and she raised her head, looking up at me with a satisfied little smile as she removed her hand.

"I hope it was as good for you as it was for me, thank you."

"Um-hmm. ... Hmm, I wonder which one is raunchier, wanting that?"

"Me, I want to do something else raunchy in the shower."

"Hmm, ... and if I want to, too?"

I stood up and helped her up as I replied:

"Then you're some kind of a real raunchy, cocksucking, ... fucked-up female."

"Hm-hm-hmm! Maybe I am, ... but not without your teaching me."

"I guess so, but you wanted to learn."

"Um-hmm. ... I've got to go to the bathroom."

"That's what I hoped, me too, now that he can think about other things."

"He can think?"

"Not very much."

By then we were in the bathroom and in the tub. Sandy snickered when I dropped to my knees and asked:

"You really want to, want me to?"

"Um-hmm."

And she did, her pale stream arching out, warm and almost tasteless after our beers. I followed it upstream until I had my mouth on her, catching it with my tongue and then finding her lips and clitoris as her stream died down. Her pelvis moved, turning it up to me and then turning down as she said:

"Don't start that; making you come turns me on."

I stood up and started to go, holding him up to splash on her. She snickered with a grin and dropped to her knees and let me direct my stream in her mouth, holding it open for a moment and then closing it to swallow and then opening it again as she glanced up at me, then swallowing a couple of times more before I finished. She snorted with a smile as I helped her to her feet, remarking:

"We are raunchy."

"Anything that has to do with it," I replied, recognizing again the repetition of earlier conversations.

"Yeah, I guess. Really didn't taste like much."

"The beers."

Then we washed each other, thoroughly, but not embracing. As I was dressing, I recalled my t-shirt and asked Sandy what Vivienne had done with it.

"I don't know. Do you want it back?"

"No, I was just wondering. I gave it to her."

"Yeah, I remember, your telling her she should have it, 'if it gave her thoughts like that.' Maybe I can ask her, ... and see if it does."

"Yes, that would be good, a 'good idea'."

Sandy grinned and nodded, and then we embraced and kissed, holding her naked body to my clothed one, and then I was off again in good time, thankful for the walk home to have time to separate all the sex from home life. But my thoughts were about the sex most of the way.

Sandy and I sure had developed a routine that was centered around sex, not that we didn't enjoy each other's company without it, it just hadn't happened, even when she had had her period - the first evening with Vivienne. And we had both wanted it from the start: my suggesting our showering together, and her having anticipated that we would by making up Vivienne's bed. Vivienne had suggested that she could use it.

That was an interesting thought, now that I knew her better - the contrast between her Catholic schooling and her more liberal assumptions about Sandy, and her more liberal attitude when the opportunity occurred. Maybe she would be looking forward to it happening again!? She had said so - "watching you" - while they were lying together. And like Sandy and I had discussed before that about having gotten to second base, ... we quickly had again. Vivienne had seen that coming - my t-shirt, and her removing her bra. And then we had been safe at third base and made it to home plate. Unless she went out Friday evening before we came back, she would certainly not be seriously adverse to something happening again. What - and how?

I had to leave these thoughts at the door to our building, quickly envisioning the interior of the NYAC and training areas where I was assumed to have spent the evening. My parents and sister greeted me, my father suggesting that I must be getting in pretty good shape from all the training. I demurred, afraid to glance at my sister as I explained that we weren't really working out that hard: "just trying to keep in shape after the inactivity of the office."

I could imagine my sister's thoughts about what part of me was in what shape, but she didn't do anything to suggest her thoughts. Good girl, I really owed her something for controlling her previous outspokenness, but that thought wasn't so good, since it immediately occurred to me the one thing she would really like. She was engrossed in a book, so we all spent the rest of the evening reading.

As usual, I fell asleep wondering what would happen Friday evening.

Thursday morning, I again went over to the other avenue and saw Sandy waiting for me, nearer than where I had met her Tuesday morning. She grinned as she came towards me - not with Martha's easy stride - and then we greeted each other with a little kiss - just a little more than a peck - and continued together.

"Oooh, that was good!" she almost whispered.

"It sure was, thank you. I got more than you did."

"Hm-umm, I got what I wanted, ... and felt like I wouldn't ever need any more - hm-hmm! - until this morning when I woke up."

"Hm-hm-hmm! Yeah, something like that."

We chuckled and walked on in silence for a couple of blocks, both of us apparently feeling in complete agreement on that subject. Yes, definitely, I thought when Sandy took my hand and scratched my palm with a smile, just holding it until I scratched hers in return, both of us snickering softly as we continued in silence. After a light and the crowd had thinned out, I asked:

"Any new ideas about tomorrow?"

"No good ones - and you?"

"Not really, just an extension of the one about second base - now home plate."

"Hm-hmm! I understand. Yeah, that would be good, ... make things easy."

"Um-hmm, if she doesn't disappear before we arrive, ... well, she must expect ..."

"Um-hmm, that we assume ..."

"Yeah, something like that, so if she doesn't ..."

"I'll say that you insist on taking us both to dinner."

"Yes, I do. ... If she wants to make another salad, well, now she knows what the obvious possibility is, what she'd be suggesting."

"Hm-hmm! I like that, ... I hope so. ... Oh, I should buy some more eggs. Hm-hmm!"

"And beer. Good thing you had so much yesterday. I'll get two bottles of wine tomorrow."

"Good idea," and Sandy smiled at me, and then we walked on until we were at our building.

The rest of the day went uneventfully. All the talk about Friday made it obvious that we had nothing planned for that evening, and Thursday evenings were becoming my evening at home.

I greeted my mother and sister, who seemed delighted about something. My father wasn't home yet. I went to my room and changed, recalling that Sandy was also probably arriving back at the apartment, hoping that her conversations with Vivienne would be positive. When I returned to the living room, my sister revealed why she seemed so delighted, saying that Martha had written her:

"... - us - but it was addressed to me. Do you want to read it? Mother thought it was nice that she didn't just forget us after one farewell letter. But, of course, I wrote her back." She gave me the letter, and I sat down. For a moment she stood there as though she wanted to watch my expression, but then moved to sit down, herself.

Martha's letter was addressed to her, immediately asking her to pass on greetings to "your parents and brother," and then telling about what she was doing and writing that she hoped that my sister was having a good summer. It all sounded harmless until the point when she returned to what she was doing: "Oh, I finally got to visit my brother in his student's room. It's nice, small, but all his own. I'll be carrying his laundry back and forth to home for him, so we'll be seeing each other regularly in the future, which we think is very nice. He likes to know all about what I did in America, and there just isn't enough time to tell him all at once."

Then she closed with more greetings to us all "and thanks again for everything."

My sister was watching me when I folded the letter, and as I rose and returned it to her, said:

"Wasn't that nice?"

"Yes, very."

"I thought so, too," our mother agreed and asked:

"How old is her brother? They seem to get on well together."

I was about to reply, but luckily my sister did first, so that I didn't have to suggested that Martha and I had talked so much.

"Just a year older, she told me. The other one is older."

"That's nice, being so close in age."

When my father returned, pleased to see me, we had dinner, and then my sister and I played backgammon in the library: fast, loud games, slapping our pieces on the board and challenging each other verbally when we could remove one of the other's pieces. Suddenly while she was throwing her dice, I noticed that she had undone two buttons of her blouse. I had already noticed that it was an old one that fit a little tightly across her breasts, so with two buttons open, it spread and revealed her nice cleavage.

She snickered immediately when she saw that I had noticed, just hesitating for a moment before making her move. She grinned at me and fingered the next button while I threw my dice and wondered if she would really dare undo another one with our parents sitting in the next room, also wondering how to tell her to button up again, and moved my pieces. She didn't undo it, just smirked and said that I had missed a move that could have sent off one of hers, and she started her turn.

leBonhomme
leBonhomme
690 Followers