Too Much of a Good Thing Ch. 07

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The lady is full of surprises.
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Part 7 of the 10 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 08/08/2002
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RonRyder
RonRyder
72 Followers

Too Much of a Good Thing: A Fantasy of Excess.

Chapter VII A Lady of Surprises.

I don’t know how long we lay there semi-comatose, but I regarded that interval at the time as the happiest moment of my life. The world was three people, the yacht the sea and the sky were their only companions, and the medium that bound them together was pure sex.

Later, Heidi revealed extraordinary talent as a chef, preparing the most exquisite steaks over a barbeque that she simply swung out from the back rail of the yacht so that it hung on its stanchion in midair over the open sea. Whether because of plain hunger, the ambience, the company, the fact that I had just taken part in the most mind-blowing triple orgasm one could imagine, I would not wish to hazard a guess. But the steaks were the best I had ever eaten, the wine -- a Beaune of excellent vintage – the best I had ever drunk…… And where Heidi got hold of Badois in California, God only knew! We feasted like the three princes.

Aside from the very obvious fact that Heidi was an intriguing and forceful character, I had pieced together relatively little of her story. But she was quite open about her life and answered questions willingly and directly. She met Cecil when he was on a business trip to Berlin. Cecil, in case you haven’t twigged, is the President and CEO of the firm for which I worked. He was my ‘Boss’, at some level of management sufficiently high that the difference between myself and Susan, viewed from such heights, was not at all material. I had spoken perhaps two words to him in ten years and they were probably ‘Yes, Sir!’. In short, I had no relationship with him whatsoever, and knew about him only via the scuttlebutt that was promulgated over the company grapevine. This certainly did include his young, nubile ‘Trophy Wife’, but of course, the ‘wires’ had not cottoned on in the slightest degree to her nature, and could not in its wildest fantasy have imagined what this was and what was going on behind the scenes.

In between attacks on her steak, Heidi told her story. A long, fascinating monologue.
‘Oh Cecil is such a cutie. And how lucky I was to find him,’ she reflected. ‘He called the agency and I was just the lucky one who took the call. I sensed from the start there may be something in this ---- I was 28 at the time and believe me, a woman in my trade starts worrying as the big 30 looms large. Your tits begin to go and your ass, and in no time at all that is what you end up spending your time on, sitting, waiting. The guys those days -- well probably still -- all they wanted was a hard body, firm tits and a trim ass, and there were all these kids -- the baby bulge they called it --- 19 years old and looking like Madonna. And they could give head, too. Not like I did, but good head, which was something of a breakthrough in the trade. D’you know, when I started, there was hardly anybody who could do it right. I practically invented the technique for myself…… And they all wanted head, believe me. They say, ‘The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’. But every working girl knows this is just plain bollocks! They say this only ‘cos they don’t have the balls to tell the truth. You blow your man twice a day and he’ll beg to be your slave! Try that with Veal Parmiagiani!’

‘So I gave Cecil the best blow job he’d ever had in his life. And what could he do? 60 years old and all that money! What good’s money if you can’t get your dick sucked properly. He made me an immediate offer, but I said No! I said, ‘If you want me, you either call the agency or you marry me’.

‘Naw!’, he said. ‘I tried marriage. It’s for the birds. The moment the knot is tied, the blinds come down and it’s momma and kids, the kids first, momma second, and the poor swine who’s paying the bills seventeenth, if he’s lucky. No thank you.’ ……

So he went back to the States, and I bet he tried every whore in LA. But none of them gave him a blow job like he got from me. So in the end he called. He said,
'Ok! I’ll marry you, but only on one condition. We write in the marriage contract that you give me head twice a day and three times on Sunday, ok?’ I said, ‘Hell, Cecil, write three a day and five on Sunday, it’s your dick!’

I took advantage of a pause. ‘Are you serious? You actually wrote a thing like that in a marriage contract!?’ I asked naively. As I have said, I am really a rather conventional person.

‘Sure! We were amongst the first, but they all do it now. I mean, what’s a guy to do. Cecil was right. A lotta girls, they put out to get the guy, right? But their heart isn’t in it, for whatever reason. I mean, they can be forgiven, right? Sex is not everyone’s bag. Lotta girls have bad experiences early, it affects them. They associate the sex with the bad experiences. They want a man and they want kids, so they do whatever they have to do to get them. But their true attitude to sex comes out later. Cecil picked up three total dogs in his first three wives. Classic cases. Laid there, said nuffin’ until the contract was signed and a couple of kids were in the bag, and then the shutters came down. I bet not one of them gave him a single really decent fuck, let alone a blow job. Took him a long time to learn, Cecil. Not awfully smart, bless him’.

‘But, I mean…er… I mean… Do you actually .. er… fulfil the contract?’ I asked, in a somewhat embarrassed tone.

‘What’s to fulfil,’ said Heidi scornfully. “I mean, you ask any working girl if she’d do 15 blow jobs a week for what I got out of Cecil in return, and she’d think she’d died and gone to heaven! Cecil just had no idea, you know, how much a working girl has to put out. And he also had no idea how much your average 60 year old male can handle, especially when he’s away half the time and totally exhausted by the ‘cares of his office’ when he’s home! Jesus! The man was 60 when I married him. Even on the honeymoon he had a hard time getting it up more than once a day. And he could only manage that for a week. His dick went on strike on him and I don’t care who you are, you can’t do much for a dick that’s decided it’s been overworked. Now he’s nearly 70, Cecil’s happy as a clam if he manages to get it up once a week! So, to answer your question directly, I blow him whenever he asks, which ain’t often! O’course, I can’t rule out he got tired of me and has some chick stashed away on the side, possibly lots of them. Entirely possible given the miserable amount of time he spends at home. No skin off my nose. I got my deal and there’s no way any floosey can get her hands on my pot. I don’t give a damn who’s blowing him. It’s of no concern to me.’

‘And he doesn’t mind about you and …. and …. and ..er.. Susan!’

‘Oh he knows nothing of that. He has no idea what I do. I don’t think he gives a damn,’ Heidi said lightly. ‘I’m his ‘trophy’. The proof of his ongoing manhood. O’course, he probably would be a bit uptight if he found out, but what’s he going to do about it? Go public with the news that his trophy wife, who’s supposed to prove what a big dick he’s got, is a closet lesbian? And even if he did, what’s the result? A divorce that, believe me, would reduced his coffers and increase mine in no uncertain terms. No Sir! Cecil has the world’s strongest incentive not to make a fuss about anything, and I’m quite sure he never will.’

After a momentary pause I took the bull by the horns and asked Heidi,
‘Did you know you were a lesbian when you married him?’

I asked a bit nervously, but I was genuinely intrigued by Heidi and the question was entirely honest, if somewhat indelicate. But Heidi didn’t seem to care. She was talking, and enjoying talking.

‘Not really. Sex with men was my job. I didn’t mind it, but in the way you don’t mind doing your job. I was a bit puzzled that I could get off on my own very easily, but guys could never get me off. On the other hand, very few working girls actually get off with clients anyway, so I assumed that was the reason. I realized one day, though, that my fantasies always involved delightful women …. Like that Venus fly trap over there!’ She indicated Susan, who smiled, presumably at the ludicrous analogy.

‘It’s true,’ said Heidi. ‘The moment I laid eyes on her I knew I had to have her.’ And she gave Susan such a look I knew this was the gospel truth. In case it hasn’t struck you yet, Heidi was a straight, shoot from the hip kind of person!

‘Of course,’ Heidi continued, ‘we had to deal with Susan’s reluctance to recognize that she could be attracted to a woman, right Susan?’ Susan indicated her acquiescence, though in a way that suggested she would prefer Heidi not to continue with this line. But Heidi was in a ‘hang it all out’ mood, and she had obviously decided that I was a party who deserved her trust. I had also the feeling that Heidi’s openness that day on the yacht, together with her blatant exposing of Susan to hetero sex, was also a reality check for her, designed to define for her where she and Susan really stood.

‘Susan is certainly not a lesbian,’ Heidi said. ‘Well you could tell that for yourself. You just fucked the hell out of her. Was that a lesbian?’

The gentleman on such occasions is silent.

‘At best, she’s ‘bi’. At worst, at least from my point of view, she’s straight, but got messed up because of…….’

‘Please, don’t go into that!’ interposed Susan sharply.

Heidi gave her a look, then relaxed. ‘Sure. But he has a right to know where we are coming from. Susan has had her problems with men, as you, I understand, had problems with women! Your heterosexuality seems pretty intact, if I may say so!’

‘Strange you should say that,’ I said. ‘I guess my divorce threw me back quite a bit. I have to confess, sex played an all too minor role in my marriage, and I really did not give much thought to the notion of ‘sexuality’ at all until I met Angel. I confess I had to sympathize with what you said about Cecil. The scenario you laid out described my marriage to a ‘T’’

‘Angel? Who was this Angel?’

‘Angel was the woman who entrapped me into doing those movies. I met her at a party somewhere - God knows how I came to be at a party where there would be people like Angel. We inhabited unconnected worlds. But she did seem to be attracted to me. Of course, I’m sure it was all an act. She told me she had been a porn actress -- and you can imagine I was quite shocked about that --- but she told me she had given it up for the fashion business. She ran a boutique, or at least that’s what she said. She was very convincing!’

‘And you say she convinced you that you were just doing auditions!?’

‘Hard to believe now that I could be so gullible! …. At least Angel brought me out of my shell, so to speak. My life was pretty dull until I met her. I have to at least give her that! Let’s face it, if it hadn’t been for Angel, would I be here now?’

‘Well that’s a thought!’ said Heidi, then, ‘But enough idle chat! Time for desert!’

Desert, as you probably figured, was Susan and I taking turns eating Heidi out. Then she asked Susan and I to sixty-nine while she jacked off with a massive dildo, and finally we moved to the Grande Finale. Heidi disappeared into the cabin and hauled out a short bench, well padded, on which she had me lie with my ass on a couple of cushions at one end and my head up the other end. She splayed out my legs and had Susan suck me until I was very hard. Then she had Susan sit on my face, mounted me and began a long, vigorous fuck.

‘Long time since I had a dick,’ was her comment! ‘Not bad! Almost as good as a dildo!’

She rode me for a long time before a series of loud yelps announced her fourth orgasm. She came violently and noisily.

Next she had Susan ride me until she was nice and hot, whereupon Heidi had her about face and sit on my cock so that it was in her up to the hilt. Susan arched her back placing her hands on the bench beside my waist to take her weight and exposing her clitoris to Heidi’s rapturous gaze. I could see her eyes glinting from my pose down there on the bench. It was not long before Heidi moved in, and applied to that neat and tidy cunt her sumptuous attentions! I would say that was not exactly the first time Heidi had had her way with Susan’s clit, and Susan’s response was not long in building up to another noisy and violent orgasm.

‘What do you think?’ Heidi asked Susan. ‘Can he take another?’

They seemed to think so, so I was given the place of honor amongst Heidi’s cushions on the back seat of the yacht while the ladies took turns to squat over me with their feet on the seat at my side and their hands on the railing. This gave them superb purchase to grind up and down on my cock. They spelled each other at about ten minute intervals, and the one who was not ‘on’, so to speak, played with my balls, squeezing if they thought it necessary to stiffen me up, and kneading if to keep me loose. They were very good at this, and also in timing their shift changes so my throbbing dick got respite at precisely the point where I was beginning to feel the juices bubbling.

You may wonder how any man can hold out so long in such circumstances, and I could not blame you for it. A ‘fishy story’, you may very well think. But it is possible and the reason is that when vaginal secretions are so profuse there is perfect lubrication. My ladies’ cunts grew extremely wet and the most prominent noise that overrode the lapping of the wavelets on the boat was the squishing sound that came from my cock displacing the liquid that built up within them between strokes as they drove their mounds into me. Now you may choose not to believe this, but it is true anyway and accounts for the fact that the actual stimulation my cock had to withstand was very much less than the vigorous efforts of the ladies appeared to indicate. Sliding a truly wet cunt along your shaft generates very little friction and, in fact, the larger of the two problems, if you have either, is maintaining attention! If this strays, you can actually lose your erection entirely, which does not make for a happy lady! Actually, the visual image of women intent on getting themselves off, their flushed bodies, their fully extended areolas, their stiff nipples and their irregular breathing, grunts and yelps were all I needed to maintain full involvement, though the little help I got from time to time in the form of a gently squeezed ball-bag, and maybe a fingernail scratching along the underside of my cock, did not come amiss.

So the ladies took turns to pound away at me, and when they tired of this -- physically tired, that is; there was no sign that they were in any way sexually satiated -- they took turns at the ‘about face’ position, one holding as still as she could on my dick while the other sucked and licked her clit. This seemed to be their favorite position and it was clearly a point of honor to keep as still as possible, no matter what the provocation. That way, they both kept going for an eternity.

Inevitably, Heidi came first with her usual gusto, but instead of giving the field over to Susan, she turned around again and began to fuck me with a vigor that bordered on the frightening. She had elevated herself into a sexual frenzy that resulted in a continuous sequence of orgasms that lasted as long as Heidi’s legs could keep going. She slammed herself down on me like a veritable dervish! And when her calves gave out, she was by no means done. She collapsed on her back in the well of the boat, slipped a couple of cushions underneath her and beckoned me to do my share of the work. And no sooner was I in and working away than her orgasms began again. She clung to me like a leech, and I felt her vagina contracting around my cock as she came and came and came again. Finally it was over. She collapsed in a heap in the well of the boat.

‘God! What a hump! I give up,’ she said. ‘He’s all yours!’

And so the afternoon ended on a perfect note with me lying lengthwise along one of the side-seats of the yacht, contemplating the azure horizon. Susan had mounted me and with gentle rhythms and great finesse caressed my dick with her cunt walls and lips, moving up and down for a few strokes, then rocking backwards and forwards with me deep inside her so her clitoris rubbed directly against my pelvic bone. Susan herself betrayed with muted groans and facial gestures her impending climax. But as this approached, she actually slowed the pace, keeping herself, and me, moving infinitesimally from one plateau to the next. As each plateau was achieved, she would slow her ministrations until, when the time came and neither of us could hold back any longer, she was completely still, poised over my shaft, and squeezing ever so gently with her vaginal walls which she continued doing for a seeming age before the semen could be held back no longer and poured out of me and squirted deep inside her cunt. With a final sigh, she lowered herself to cover me and her vaginal walls clenched and released as she celebrated our mutual orgasm, a quiet but thoroughly satisfying affair.

We remained motionless for a long time. Our eyes were joined, in recognition of a unique sharing.

===============================================================

All the way back to LA I was in a daze. I had to pinch myself to believe that this day had been for real. How could such a thing happen? Was it all a dream? Well of course it was not! But how could I rationalize this with my life --- this was my immediate boss and the wife of my CEO! It’s all very well on a yacht to think of oneself as cut off from the world, but when reality hit, the result was confusion and concern as to how the future would evolve.

As it turned out, I had nothing to worry about. On the Monday Susan called me to her office, and while making clear that the intimacies of the boat were not irrelevant to her, made equally clear that nothing in the work environment should happen that could raise the slightest suspicion of impropriety between the two of us. And of course the conventional part of me was only too happy to comply. But subconsciously I was disturbed because, as will not be a secret to anyone who is able to read between lines, I was falling ‘in love’ with Susan, and that was not going to work out to my advantage at all, Oh No!!

Susan also made clear that it was Heidi who called the shots, and that she, Susan, was absolutely bound by their pact that all action involving a third party should be mutual. I think she said this in advance because she was a perspicacious person and it would not have escaped her notice that our extraordinary encounters on the yacht had left their mark on me! She wanted to head of any attempt on my part to encourage twosome action ‘on the side’ between the pair of us. I of course had the opposite inclination, which is probably the reason why Susan spelled out how it was going to be in ABC and black and white. I mean, if a guy has fucked a woman that well, and knows that she knows how well that was, he’d have to be superhuman not to want to follow it up in the ‘usual way’.

When I reflect on it, this may very well be the bane of a lesbian’s life -- the fear that her partner is not really lesbian, but has been hurt by the rawness of the male-female interaction and is enjoying the true sweetness of intra-female companionship, but only temporarily. Maybe that is what attracts her to the relationship, and maybe --- shades of Cecil and his three wives who disliked sex --- getting laid by a woman was just the price she has to pay for this emotional support. When Mr. Right comes along, so goes the fear, she will be away and I will again be alone. I have no idea how general this fear may be, but I am quite sure that it was Heidi’s fear. She was unquestionably in love with Susan, and wanted only the best and ‘what was right’ for her, but at the same time needed to protect herself against the hurt that she would feel if her nightmare scenario should ever come to be reality. That was my role. I was a test case -- how would Susan react to a red-blooded male who nevertheless possessed a high degree of sensitivity. For I did pride myself on this. I am a sensitive person -- no alpha male! – and my emotional makeup has considerable overlap with that of a ‘typical woman’. I cannot imagine, for example, how rape is possible, because for me, the very notion of entering a woman who does not want to be entered is anathema. I could not do it simply because my cock would not allow it! If the cunt to be penetrated was not warm and willing, my fella would go on strike instantaneously and that would be the end of that.

RonRyder
RonRyder
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