tagGroup SexSwan's Way Ch. 05 Pt. 02

Swan's Way Ch. 05 Pt. 02


Marcel wanted to celebrate Nuke's and my success in passing the dreaded history exam, and he booked a private room at my favorite restaurant.

Tonight I'm gonna blow up the planet. Maybe the entire universe. I shower, fix my hair; as much as I can-I hate hate hate its current length. How many years is it going to take to reach my butt?

Marcel has seated himself just outside the doorway, observing my ablutions. As I wrap a towel around me he rises to answer the door bell. Marcel has selected one of his London made three piece suits and a truly hideous necktie that I had given him for his birthday. God, I love that man; I could eat him with a spoon!

Marcel returns with Nuke, who is actually wearing grown-up clothing; slacks, a sports jacket, and a tie. Polished shoes, made of real leather! They sit on the opposite side of the room, and watch the show.

I don skimpy black lace panties, thigh high black stockings with lacy tops and a seam running down the back. Push up bra in matching lace; not that there is much to push up. It does, however, have little cutouts that let my nipples roam free. Black silk dress with spaghetti straps, and fuck-me pumps. I watch them in the mirror, let the image burn into their brains, as I brush a dusting of powder across my cheeks and slowly apply blood red lipstick.

Marcel calls, "Maybe we should just stay home!"

"Gets my vote!" Nuke answers.

"Down, boys; the night is young." A horn sounds; the taxi cab has arrived. The restaurant, as always, is crowded; on weekends reservations well in advance are mandatory. I receive a number of frank appraisals, from both men and women, as we head for the staircase. I ascend first, treat my men to a preview with my bottom; I read somewhere that a movie critic once wrote that watching Sophia Loren walk reminded him of two boys wrestling under a blanket!

A round table is set for three; crisp linen napkins and a snowy tablecloth. Silver, china, crystal goblets in three shapes. An oriental carpet covers the hardwood floor, flocked red wallpaper gives the flickering candlelight a rosy hue. Our waiter seats us, me flanked by my men, and serves the first course.

Champagne and caviar on toast points. Marcel has ordered the menu in advance, and I have no idea of what to expect. Except, of course for one item that I KNOW will be on the bill of fare, and I have planned a little surprise of my own.

"Wow," Nuke says, "I've never had caviar. It's salty!"

I give him a glance, a smile, reply, "As are all good things in life!" The waiter clears, and I prepare, knowing what the next course must be.

One of my private signs with Marcel is to say, "Did you remember to lock the door when we left?" Which means I want to play with him, beneath the table. He will then slide his zipper down, and let me fumble him into the world. Tonight he expects that I have some devious scheme in mind, and he readily cooperates, as I continue to chat with Nuke. I know I have to get a good head start with Marcel, before I engage my young companion.

With my left hand I caress Marcel beneath the table cloth, whisper, "Tonight, all the way!" The waiter places a large silver tray in the center of the table. A bed of crushed ice cradles two dozen raw oysters on the half shell. He refills our champagne flutes.

We slurp several oysters, commenting on their taste. My right hand disappears under the tablecloth, strokes Nuke's crotch. "Unzip," I whisper. He's hard before I touch him. After several stokes I bring my hand back up. He looks forlorn. "Patience, my precious," I say, and put a double pat of butter in my mouth, letting my heat soften it. I lean and give Marcel, then Nuke, a creamy kiss, before letting it slide from my tongue onto my palm. My hand once more submerges. I lubricate both cocks. Marcel swells; he's close. Thank God for cows. . .

I tongue Nuke's ear, whisper, "You know, I've been doing the same thing, to Marcel, for the last ten minutes!"

He groans, thrusts, spends himself into my palm. Marcel follows. Dripping, I select two large oysters, put them on my plate. Let stringy ropes of semen fall from my fingers, dressing the succulent shellfish. Their eyes shine, anticipating.

I lick my blood red lips, pick up the two shells, hold them for a moment in front of my open mouth. Then cross my hands, and place each oyster in front of Nuke and Marcel. BAD girl!

Beads of sweat grow on Nuke's forehead. Marcel hesitates, then throws his head back and roars. Tears roll down his cheeks; he picks up his oyster and noisily eats it."Oh, you little witch," he laughs.

Nuke gulps, opens, swallows. "Salty!" Nuke finally says with a laugh as I suck my fingers clean.

We finish the platter, amidst dreadful puns and gales of laughter. The waiter gives us a puzzled look as he serves grilled orange roughy and a chilled Chardonay.

Much, much later, we are all a bit tipsy as we tumble into a taxi. Back at the apartment, we take turns, using the facilities. Finally the three of us are standing in the bedroom. "What are we going to do now?" Nuke asks.

"Somehow, I think our Little Swan has taken care of that," Marcel replies.

"You know, that was such a turn on, with the oysters, I think I want to try a variation. Marcel, undress Nuke. And then, vice versa." Again, Nuke seems uncomfortable. "Oh, for God's sake, sweetie; he's not going to BLOW you!" No, not with that shriveled little dickie that's so comically trying to crawl back up into your body.

I admire my two naked lovers. "Oh, good job, guys! Now that you've had some practice, do me." Moments later were are naked, cuddling on the bed.

"I haven't had an orgasm tonight, and you men are one up on me." Not quite true; I'd quietly come twice during dinner, but it was all due to my efforts and my imagination, so by my somewhat biased accounting methods, they don't count.

"Nuke, Marcel knows how play me like a violin, so I'm asking him to concentrate on my cunt. Meanwhile, I want to explore some really serious kissing with you." I kneel over Marcel's face, spread my thighs, lower myself. His hands massage my buttocks and his tongue lightly strums my banjo. Nuke also kneels, facing me, takes my head between his big hands, puts his mouth on mine. I wrap my arms around him. Our tongues entwine, we slurp each other. I think of raw oysters. We break for breath.

"Raw oysters," he murmurs, dives back in. My nipples are hard against his pecs, his cock is hard against my belly. I suck his upper lip, then his lower. So does he.

"MMMMF!" I say, break away, "Gonna come gonna come!" I pant. Suck his tongue, thrust against Marcel's face, grind my cunt against his mouth. Poor baby; I hope he can breath. I'm so wet, he's underwater!

I slump, collapse, separate from Nuke, push against his chest, and roll off Marcel, bounce once on the bed, arch my back and clutch my sopping cunt. I get the black whirlies; from wine or sex, I cannot say. Someone calls from a far off place, "Hey; earth to Swan. You still among the living?"

I swim back to consciousness, stir, say, "Now the score is tied-one to one to one." I open my eyes, eye my guys. "Batter up!" I notice that both batters are very definitely UP!

I sit erect on a straight back chair that is the perfect height for Marcel and me. Nuke will have to stoop a smidge. I take Marcel in my mouth, suck him hard. Spit him out to say, "Nuke. You too; put your cock in my mouth. I want you both at the same time!"

"Uh, I don't know. . ." He looks at Marcel's monster at the entrance to my mouth.

I command, "If you want a shot at my cunt, you'll do it!" I take Marcel back him, slide my lips over him, gaze up into Nuke's eyes. He sighs, steps forward, joins Marcel, presses in, stretching my lips into an obscene grin.

I shake my head, ejecting them, say, "Talk to me! Tell me what it feels like." I suck them back in, wrestle with their two so very different cocks.

"I was twelve," Marcel says. "My cousin and I were swimming, naked in the sea. We teased our Willies into stiffness, dueled with them in the surf. This feels way, way better!"

"Yeah," Nuke replies. "Your lips are so soft, and I look down at them, see the lipstick smeared on our dicks, and your mouth is so tight, stretched by both of us. Jesus, I can feel his big knob; I'm gonna shoot!"

No, no, Nanette! Not yet! Not yet! I spit them both out. "God, I'm so hot! I want the same thing, at the other end. I want you both in my cunt." I leap onto the bed, drag Marcel with me, push him on his back. The mattress bounces like a trampoline.

I straddle his legs, facing his feet. Lower myself onto him. I am drenched, ready. He wriggles in, a snug fit. I hook my feet under his knees, lie back on his chest. He cups my breasts. "Nuke. Now you; get inside, pack my cunt! Long, slow strokes; I want to feel your cock as it slides across my clit." He crouches, legs spread wide, outside mine and Marcel's. He bends his cock down with his thumb, forces it into my cunt, filling me as I have never been before. My lover's trapped; cannot thrust in this position. "Marcel? You O.K.?"

"Fine. the sensation of him sliding into you, over me is unbelievable! We're going to have to file a patent on this."

Nuke says, "I can feel the head of his cock as I pass it. can you guys feel that? "Oh, oh oh, man; I'm gonna come!"

"Nuke? Don't shoot in me! Pull out!"

"Aww, no; don't torture me!"

"I want you to come in my mouth." He knee walks up to my head, and I suck him in. Marcel teases my nipples. "Deep throat me again!" I say. Once again, I am in the position where he has a straight line between my lips and my throat. I feel him slide down, down, down. If I slip a finger into his bottom, he'll blow in nothing flat. I do and he does.

I swallow all he has to offer; he finally withdraws, slack dicked and glazed eyes. "Wow! That felt incredible, when you put your finger-"

"Well, then, be a good boy, and I'll let you return the favor. Go back to the other end, and help Marcel."

"What do you mean?"

I know my Marcel needs some attention; I sit up, disengage, and turn around. I throw my legs over him again, this time facing my lover. I snuggle against his chest. "Nuke, help him get in. Pull his skin back, make him stiffer. Yeah, that's it. Now, guide him into my cunt. Oh, God, so delicious; oh, thank you both. Now get back to my mouth; I need you to shut me up!"

Marcel is well ensconced, thrusting slowly up into me, and very, very hard. Soon Nuke is, too. I sit up, mouth now level with Nuke's terrible, swift sword. Which I swallow.

Second time around, Marcel can last for ever, if he wishes. Unless, of course. . . The mind is also a terrible swift sword, and I play with it at my peril.

"Nuke, I say, "I want you in my bottom. Bedside table, a condom and the blue tube of lube. Quickly now, before it's too late!" I drop and crush my lips against Marcel, spread my legs wider, presenting a target for Nuke. "Lots of lube, Nuke!"

I feel the cold, thick jelly on my star. "Put your finger in," I rasp. "Yeah, that's it; oh, heaven! Quick, now, I need your cock!"

Marcel stops thrusting, holds still, waits to feel that long, slender cock ride against his on the other side of my thin membrane. Nuke slides home with one slow plunge, plumbing me to the depths.

"Easy, now, Nuke," Marcel says. "Slowly, slowly, in and out. Set a steady rhythm, then I will pick it up. Me in, you out. Me out, you in. When Swan tells you, we'll switch to in and out together. That way she will be packed tight, increasing her pleasure. When she comes, you'll feel it; her cunt will squeeze my cock, and I'll shoot too. Then you're on your own!"

How does Marcel know all this stuff?

I feel the tsunami rise, crest, sweep over me, over us. It breaks; we are tossed, we tumble, ragged and drenched, in the roaring foam.

An atomic explosion detonates, a hundred megaton blast, right in the apartment. I scream, babble incoherent sounds. We are vaporized in the mushroom cloud; nothing left but three shadows on a Hiroshima wall.

Much, much later we separate, crawl beneath the covers, drift off, into the arms of Morpheus.

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