The Experiment

But he ignores it! His eyes glint, playing at being John. She wants to shout, "Look up my skirt you sexy fuck!"

Michael doesn't break eye-contact. He kneels at her feet and opens her knees...

Then he leans between to kiss the big, soft lips on her face instead.

It might not be love but their kisses still burst little fireworks in their skulls. He wanders off her lips, to his special spot on her neck.

"Well, I cunt-love you back, so there," she says.

"And I... love... your... cunt," he kisses.

Pearl shivers and he pulls away and - finally! - he lifts her skirt.

Pearl sags open in the most un-ladylike way imaginable, in a way she'd never do for anyone except maybe the mirror on a bored Saturday afternoon.

MIchael can't resist. He dips, lapping at her warm slot as if from a pool. He moans as he drinks, slipping his profoundly slick tongue over her buzzing clit.

And she can't stop him. Tingling blossoms from his mouth and scoots across her skin. Her arousal floods over his tongue, until their separateness melts and is carried away on waves of pleasure. He grunts as he eats her, his hips humping the air. Fuck he loves this. Her spine stiffens under the rise of her climax, doubled by Michael's bliss. She tries to breathe calmly, ride through it.

But it's too much, squirming her on the seat like she's nothing more than an extension to his writhing tongue.

She should let go, but something stops her. Perhaps it's Michael's stiffening licks, his shaking hips, his increasing moans into her cunt. He needs to cum and if she lets go first she'll be kicked out of the dream and he'll be left here alone and needy. Just like last night.

No. She'll not deny him twice in a row.

It takes all her strength to push his head away from its gorgeous work. Goodness, look at the mess she's made of his chin.

She tugs at his jeans, her head spinning, a little drunk on the fact that she can so rely on his love of devouring her that she can happily defer her gratification. Next time. Right now there is only one thing she needs. He stands between her feet, and she scrabbles at his jeans.

She yanks them down, relishing the sprung whap of his great club against her cheek, then watches him buck even harder inches from her face. Dear lord, he has a beautiful penis.

Her mouth waters. It takes all her strength to not gobble him up, to draw out the bliss of having him where she wants him. He's quivering, and she has the sense of toying with an unexploded bomb-so excited just from licking her!

Any second now.

Michael breathes feverishly. Pearl takes his fit-to-burst meat lightly in both hands, and swings up a cheeky gaze. "Got your Kleenex ready?"

Jen is in a strange mood.

For a start it's odd that this whole afternoon is her idea-taking time off work, dumping the kids at grandmas. This isn't even their usual day for sex. "Business time" they call it in their diaries: the first Sunday of every third month. Today's just some random Tuesday. It's only been a week since their last maintenance fuck.

She ran them a bath, something they haven't done together since their honeymoon, but keeps snapping her fingers at him. "I'm here? Hello?" as if he isn't paying her attention. But he pays her attention all the time. Too much attention, apparently. He can't keep his hands off her, and if not his hands, he can't keep his eyes off her. She looks especially irresistible today, her big, dark eyes glimmering like she's got an exciting secret. And lord, she has the most fantastic mouth. As plump as Pearl's. How often he's bitterly considered the irony of Jen's sensual mouth, wasted on someone who doesn't even enjoy kissing let alone the other things he'd like her to do with it. But she's still the love of his life.

OK, he has an imaginary friend too, strictly for fantasy play, but it's not an affair and he's totally committed to Jen. Loyal. Pearl is just for those dark, lonely nights. Like last night.

Fuck, she drained him so thoroughly in their dream that he when he woke he found it almost impossible to save his actual cum for Jen. He's been on a hair trigger all day.

The thing is he'd been about to cum while licking Pearl, so when she took his cock out to play with, he had to hold back with all his strength. He lasted all of two sweet licks.

Her moans were hitched by gulps as she sucked his frantic spasms while simultaneously digging for her own climax. It took every fibre of his being to un-limpet her mouth mid-orgasm so he could finish her too before the dream ended.

"Hello?" Jen snaps her fingers in his face. "Here I am!"

Michael picks up her foot and rubs it soapily.

She hums at first, then winces and flinches. He strokes her a little while longer, while she holds her leg up stiffly, then he lets her go.

He expects her to leap out of the bath then, like, "Job done," but she surprises him again, stroking his chest with the pad of her slippery foot.

"Would you like a massage?" she purrs. Purrs. She hasn't purred since the day he asked her to marry him. And she's never massaged him. Actually even Pearl hasn't done that. He wonders if his dream girl might like to rub him all over. With her cunt preferably. She could start on his extremities, fingers maybe, then grind on his thighs and arms, spiral into his dick, slide herself wet along it, ride him to orgasm together... or finish on his mouth if she'd prefer, then—

Hot water splashes his face. "Fucksake Mike, stop drifting off. You want a back rub or not?"

#

More surprises because Jen takes his hand and, padding naked through the house in a way they'd never dare if the kids were home, she leads him past their bedroom to her office. She's cleared her desk and covered it in a towel, and surrounded the room in scented candles.

As she pats her desk and he lies across it, the lavender air worries him.

That and the cheeky squeeze she gives his bottom. So much effort. She's trying to seduce him. Win him back. Has he done something to make her think she's lost him? Women are smart, and Jen is the smartest of the lot. She must sense his involvement with Pearl. His heart sinks.

Then his lovely wife climbs on the desk to sit astride his naked bum and strokes his rarely-touched back and he wells up. Her damp bush and labia brush his buttocks and she makes little grunts as she works. He's twice her size and her hands feel small on him, but powerful. She drops kisses before every rub.

"I love you," he says over his shoulder.

"Course you do. Goodness, you're still buff aren't you?" She undermines the compliment by wobbling his fleshy sides. "Some cardio'd soon fix these love handles. You should come to the gym sometime."

He pretends not to hear. Just like she seems to whenever he says he loves her.

She takes her time, kissing and rubbing, kissing and rubbing so when she slaps his arse and tells him to turn over he's rock hard and bouncing for what he hopes might come next.

They watch his cock leap about excitedly. She runs her fingers along it.

"I know what you need," she whispers to his giddy monster, then turns a coy but smouldering glance up at him. "That bath made me dirty."

He swallows hard. Jen's dirty-talk sounds rehearsed and awkward but it still lights him up. She bends down and kisses his cock and for all Pearl's uninhibited, mythic sucking, his wife's simple kiss nearly releases him there and then. She strokes him and kisses him again, her eyes locked to his.

She licks him, still not breaking eye contact and even though it makes him gasp, his wife's huge tongue tenderly lapping him, that fixed gaze gives him a niggling sense she's read this in a New Scientist article and practised in front of a mirror. He knows she's not really enjoying it, but still doing it to please him, and this makes him want to burst into orgasm and tears at the same time. He strokes her cheek, whispering encouragement.

She smiles and licks and kisses. "OK?" she says, and takes a popsicle suck. A lump rises in his throat. She smacks her lips, then takes another quick suck, as if surprised by what she'd found.

He groans and nudges his hips toward her mouth for more. She purses her lips reproachfully, as if denying the children another cookie, but sucks him one last time, a little slower.

Then she climbs onto the desk, and plants her knees astride his head.

At last. He prepares to kiss her clit, to build up gradually and make the rare moment last, but she pushes hard to his mouth. She's unusually wet. Has turning him on turned her on that much? He had no idea Jen felt that way. He's been neglecting her.

He should neglect her more often.

He slides his tongue into her slot, coats it in her savoury arousal and daubs her clit with it-a sensation so delicious it flutters his eyes shut. She catches a breath, wriggles.

He licks patiently, circling her clit wide because Jen always cums quickly on his tongue-to get it over with he assumes. But her breathing soon puffs up anyway so he gives in and just enjoys himself.

"Lucky girl!" The sudden voice right next to his ear flicks his eyes wide.

Pearl is standing beside the desk. It seems she's dressed up for this afternoon, if you can call someone dressed when they're naked in a pair of white woollen thigh-socks.

"Mm-mm-mmmm," Michael says into Jen. His wife chuckles but can't see Pearl of course.

"Jen is gorgeous." Pearl leans in to watch him eat his wife. "Enjoying that?"

Michael hums again. Jen groans. Pearl bursts a sigh. "Fuck, I want some."

She hops up onto the desk and stands astride his head. Her stockinged feet are lost somewhere inside Jen's knees, and bits of her merge into and out of his wife where she's kneeling. They look combined into some kind of fertility totem.

Pearl crouches and two wet mounds merge to nudge and roll on his tongue. It feels like one cunt, flowing between different flowery forms, labia budding then petalling, clitorises coalescing and splitting. He chases flesh around his mouth, tongue doubly basted, juices spilling as he licks both women at once.

Pearl's enjoyed very little head in her life, so she's always greedy for her orgasm. She joggles at him, urging him faster, but as he flickers and flip-flaps his tongue Jen sits up off him every now and then, edging herself, making it last. On a break, she reaches behind her to clasp his cock, muttering, "Cum with me."

"Don't you want to fuck?" Michael's voice is muffled by conjoined vaginas.

"Yes please!" Pearl says.

"I want you to cum with me," Jen says. "This is too... ah!" She hops off him again and for a moment all three of them watch her shining pussy pulse at the brink of orgasm. She laughs, blows long breaths, then returns to Michael's mouth.

"Fuck that's hot." Pearl grinds hard on him, gripping his hair. "This is all so fucking hot."

Jen, calmer, reaches back to Michael's cock and rubs him in time with her rocking on his face. Pearl synchronises too and they flood his mouth with marshmallowy flesh and salty arousal, filling his ears with a chorus of moans.

Jen's rubbing hand is as insistent as her cunt but he senses she's waiting for him to orgasm before she will. He tests this by swearing as if he's about to cum.