Sophia Pt. 13

Once that tongue started cavorting like a whirling dervish behind the veil of her tight opening, there was only one way that the first act of this slightly bizarre drama was going to end up, and that was with Sophia coming like a steam train into his mouth. He withdrew his face from her pussy looking like the cat who got the cream; the cat who not only got the cream but whose lizard-like tongue made sure that he let absolutely none of it go to waste.

THIRTY-FIVE

'I hope you have no reason for dissatisfaction,' said Neberu. 'But perhaps it is time we joined the others?'

'Absolutely! And absolutely not,' answered Sophia, as she wandered over to the kitchen table to don her discarded garments. After a moment's thought, she decided to dispense with the bra. She put it away in a kitchen cupboard before Neberu could get hold of it and hand wash it.

As they walked across the hall, they heard laughter coming from the sitting room. When they entered the room, Peter and Nyala were sitting on the sofa holding hands, naked as the day they were born.

'Oh, look at the two lovebirds!' said Sophia, eying up Nyala's mouth-watering body.

'It sounded very much as if you two were hitting it off in the kitchen,' said Peter, giving a squeeze to his new belle's thigh.

'We only made it to second base,' said Sophia. 'Neberu's got a lot more he wants to show me.'

'You will enjoy it, I promise,' said Nyala. 'Here, why don't I help you prepare him.'

Rising from the sofa, she went across to her husband and his new lover and, rather than starting to undress the former, she kissed Sophia softly on the lips while unzipping her dress, helping her out of the sleeves and then out of the dress altogether. Still kissing her, she slid her panties off and fingered her gently.

'My, he worked his magic on you,' she said.

She then gave her back to her husband. Sophia's frustration would have turned into pique if allowed to ferment, but Nyala indicated to her by a raise of the eyebrow that it was time to prepare Neberu and Sophia had something to take her mind off her irritation. They worked as a tag-team, Sophia undoing the ludicrous buttons on his faux denim shirt, while Nyala dealt with his jeans. Soon, he was left with only his black briefs in situ. A very noticeable bulge in the shape of a scimitar distorted his underwear. Knowing that Neberu wouldn't be happy until the knickers had returned to their normal shape and had been folded away, Sophia carefully eased them down. What confronted her was a sight she would never forget: it could best be described as a bicycle pump with a kink in it. It was incredibly long, and also incredibly thin. Sophia could imagine it being used as a probe with a tiny camera fitted on the end. That would make a visit to the gynaecologist fun, she thought.

'Isn't it beautiful?' said Nyala, still standing beside them.

'Um, unique, I would have thought,' said Sophia, aware that husband and wife were both expecting a bit more by way of approbation.

'It is not yet fully extended,' said Neberu, rightly protective of his prized possession.

Nyala nodded at Sophia, who lacked back at her with lust in her eyes. But the lust was not for the husband, but the wife. Seeing all this, Peter thought he had to put his foot down and told Sophia that it was all right, he gave her permission to pleasure their guest.

'Yeah, so you can pleasure that little slut,' thought Sophia, getting on her knees notwithstanding her unhappiness and starting to work on the African's assegai.

She kept both eyes open so she could watch what Peter was getting up to with the tramp, who had already returned to her place on the sofa. No, it wasn't her old place at all, Sophia saw; she was sitting on Peter's lap. For all she knew, his stupid urinary organ was already trying to find a way into her box.

Despite her mind being only half on the job at hand, Sophia was having quite the effect on Neberu. And suddenly the stilted courtly English had been replaced by something much more in the vernacular, even vulgar, line.

'Yeah, my white lover, use that tongue to make me come.'

Sophia's job was made easier by the pronounced kink being situated pretty much dead centre along his shaft. It made a perfect point of arrival from either end - a resting place where she had a chance to get her breath back. Giving her mouth a bit of a break, she started using her hands to keep him at fever pitch, spitting on them first, before realising that the hygiene-mad Ethiopian might call the whole thing off on health and safety grounds. But, no, he seemed to have left his sanitary scruples behind with his 15^th century manner of speech, and he began urging Sophia on with all manner of ejaculations. Suitably rested, Sophia's tongue returned to the fray and zeroed in on his balls, which were larger and more pendulous than Peter's. This proved to be a very popular move and his articulations became more frenzied.

'You're going to come in my mouth if you are a real man,' Sophia taunted him.

'Quiet, woman!' he replied, dropping for good all the Sir Galahad stuff. 'I will drown you in my cum!'

Resisting the impulse to engage him in more banter, Sophia concentrated on his head, slurping on it noisily and wantonly.

'White trash!" he cried.

And then he released his load into her mouth. Sophia struggled to swallow it all, her difficulty exacerbated by the fact that he was swaying about while repeating a refrain, of which the phrase 'Am I man enough for you?' formed the motif. Sophia felt she had one last task to perform before she could do what she had been waiting to do all evening and get to work on little Nyala. Theatrically, she fell to the floor, her eyes glazed over with a look of ecstasy, greyish cum dribbling out of the sides of her mouth.

'You have warmed him up well,' said Nyala. 'Now I want to see what your man can do for me?'

'I thought he'd already done you,' replied Sophia.

'That was a mere appetiser,' replied Nyala. 'I am hungry now for the main course.'

'Ah, I see,' continued Sophia, still smarting from the fact that she was having to wait her turn for the African gazelle, 'it was another case of premature ejaculation was it, Peter? Next time you should get him to jerk off first. That usually does the trick.'

Peter took the abuse in his stride. Anyway, he had no need to defend himself with his new friend doing such a sterling job.

'You don't understand, Sophia. He was pleasuring me in other ways. You are lucky - he is such a gentle and sensitive man.'

'So everyone is always reminding me. Okay, you two enjoy your feast.'

Sophia went to the sofa to sit with Neberu. He immediately took her hand, which she thought was rather sweet, until he placed it on his bicycle pump. He clearly felt it needed inflating. Meanwhile, ever the gentleman, Peter had taken a cushion from one of the armchairs and had placed it on the carpet for Nyala to lay her head on. Nyala, though, had other ideas. The entrées had evidently not included Peter being given a blowjob. So it was he who ended up resting his head on the cushion (with many nauseating expressions of thanks, Sophia noted), while Nyala positioned herself between his supine form and the spectators on the sofa. What this meant is that Sophia copped a continuous eyeful of the Ethiopian's beautiful pussy as she bent over her worthless husband's dick, but was cruelly unable to do anything with it. What it also meant is that the dusky minx had the chance to show all and sundry that she could give a better blowjob than Sophia. She was hoping that Peter would come quickly again and the whole thing would turn out to be a damp squib. Sadly, such hope turned out to be in vain.

Frankly, she found Peter's whole performance embarrassing. For almost the entire 20 minutes the show went on (Sophia checked the times when they started and finished on the grandfather clock in the corner) Peter didn't stop moaning, groaning and - most embarrassing of all - telling the hussy what a wonderful job she was doing.

'If it was that good,' Sophia thought, 'he would have come already, wouldn't he?'

'She's very good, isn't she?' said Neberu, whose pump was still firmly in Sophia's grip.

'I only hope she isn't getting too bored,' said Sophia, hoping to find an ally in the Ethiopian man.

'She has been positively raving about your husband all evening. I know her moods and you may rest assured that she is both enjoying giving Peter head and is becoming very aroused herself.'

'Oh, that's good. I thought she was slowing down a bit.'

'So you noticed! She likes to vary her pace. She says it leaves the man gagging for more.'

Nyala suddenly flipped Peter over and getting him to assume a doggie position slid on her back with her face staring up at his undercarriage. Tease that she was, she opened her legs wide, so that Sophia could see virtually right up her tunnel. Sophia had to bend down to see what she was up to, releasing her grip on Neberu's doglegged doofer. Gently cradling one side of his scrotum in her hand, Nyala ran her tongue over the exposed part, before moving her hand so her tongue could access the part that had just been covered. Peter was playing the perfect gentleman by making a show of enjoying it, even if he was veering into porn star territory in his desire to please the dusky coquette. When Nyala went to work on his rampant cock, running her nails along his prominent vein, his performance went completely over the top. When tongue replaced fingers, it became embarrassing.

'Come off it, Peter,' Sophia wanted to shout out, 'we don't need all this flummery.'

Clearly craving uninhibited access to Peter's massive cock, Nyala made him stand and went back to work on his straining member.

'I know he fucked her earlier,' Sophia whispered to Neberu. 'It was written all over his face. Peter's not the type who can come twice in one evening. Perhaps I should let Nyala know, so she can save some of her energy for, well, you.'

'Do not worry yourself about Peter. If anyone can help him through his problem, it is Nyala. She is a very sensuous and skilful woman.'

Sophia had to sit through several more minutes of this tacky sex show before it finally appeared as if they were ready to call it a day. Things had ground virtually to a halt, although, truth be told, Sophia had been fantasising about ramming a strap-on up Nyala's pussy and had missed most of the intervening action. Had she been attending, she would have known, like Neberu, that this was the calm before the storm. Peter stood on the edge; all it would take was a touch from Nyala to see him topple. That touch came in the form not of a physical cue but an oral one.

Nyala looked up at Peter from her kneeling position and said simply, 'I need a facial, big boy.'

Words attempted to come out of his mouth but were caught in his throat. His cock started to twitch and he felt Nyala's hands hold it to direct the jet that was about to come onto her face. Still he held out, eyes rolling in his head like an epileptic, the sinews in his neck strained to breaking point.

'Now,' she said stentorianly.

His semen flew in an arc across the small gap between the tip of his cock and Nyala's face, covering her cheeks, nose and mouth. Sensing there was more to come, he moved his penis about like a hosepipe to cover every dry spot he could find. Suddenly, Nyala beckoned Sophia to join her.

'Help clean me up,' she breathed in an incredibly sultry manner.

Sophia needed no second invitation to replace Peter on centre stage.

'About fucking time too,' she thought, as she swiped her tongue across the sultry beauty's mouth, devouring her husband's love syrup.