Visiting Yasmin

He speaks, in a whisper, a private exchange, his words entering my mouth.

"Mmm Salima, oh fuck, you feel so good, you're so wet, your sweet cunt is so wet, you feel so fucking good..."

We have all stopped kissing, we are sharing each other, physically, visually, the moment is extreme in its power, the crossing of privacy, the sharing of intimacy, the display of ourselves. Yasmin quickens her hand. Sean's cock looks huge, fuck, so long, it seems to tower over Yasmin's arm, she cannot close her fingers, grips and rubs up and down his thick thick stem, his smooth dark bulb is bubbling with the clear liquid of his arousal. I find myself matching her pace, moving my own hand hard along Christopher's stiff member., so damp, so slippery moist I can slide my fingers over his smooth tip, I can use his wetness to stroke his tender cockhead as he strokes around my clitoris, around, oh fuck, exactly that, so soft, so slow, the touchpaper of my climax has been lit, I know I will get there. I push myself hard against his hand, pushing my legs, straining them, not caring who sees, wanting Yasmin's eyes to stray, wanting Sean to gaze at my cunt, I sit and kneel, almost kneel, I reach one of the impossible positions, one I couldn't re-create if I tried, knees somewhere, thighs, arse, I push my pussy against his cock, his fingers still touching, gripping, rubbing.

There is moaning, something other than breath, more than, less than words, guttural, animalistic evocations of pleasure.

I look. I watched Paul come, my father, once, my father, over mother, Yasmin grips Sean and strokes him hard, quickly, his hand stops, his mouth drops open, he looks down, looks into Yasmin's eyes, suddenly I can see the first spurt of thick creamy fluid leap from the exposed tip of his large penis. Sean starts to climax. It is so close, it feels so invasive to see this. Yasmin strokes Sean's large dick as he convulses and spasms in orgasm, he movements cause his spunk to fly up, out, lasso in thick ropes of pale issue. I watch Sean, as my own hand moves, as I push my throbbing cunt harder against Christopher's hand, I watch as Sean shoots four long pale streams of sweet warm semen up from his cock, up to Yasmin's arm, her hand. She keeps stroking, her hand closed around Sean's thick stem, she carries on jerking her hand up and down as he comes, whipping his thick cum back and forth, pulling streams of male fluid over herself.

"Oh, Salima, oh fuck, oh god..."

I look down as Christopher spirals into his own orgasm. I stare with ravenous appetite at his cock, my hand, my fingers, he comes with as much volume and force as his friend, both sending thick white plumes of cum out of their young pricks, out onto Yasmin and myself, I feel Christopher's hot spunk splash onto me, up, a drop lands on my lips. I lick them. God. I taste his cum.

This, his hands, the taste of his cum, I stiffen in consuming paroxysms of pleasure, I fall into an orgasm that I had forgotten could be so strong. I lose track of who is where, who is doing what, to whom, who came first. Sean, oh god, Yasmin masturbating his huge cock, did she climax? Did she get there with us? Can I see, now, within the storm of my own pleasure, can I share this intimacy with my friend, her most private performance. I look, at her legs, wide, her hand now on Sean's, pushing, holding, directing him towards her joy, I hear her try to stifle a moan, I see her eyes shut, her mouth, her bottom lip clasped by her teeth, no, please Yasmin, let yourself express, let it happen.

"Oh, oh god, oh, oh fuck, fuck... oh... oh fuck..."

My friend's voice doesn't rise above a whisper, it doesn't matter, it reverberates across the water and into the trees, out into the night, across grass and into the open windows of sleeping students, back across the lawns and towards us, the feathery waves of her words like gentle caresses.

We fall back onto the damp wood. Sticky, streaked warm with male sexual issue. We have to wait to swim again. I am sure if I didn't I'd sink, I'd sink to the bottom, my muscles weak with spent pleasure, weak with knowledge, with the sweet information of my orgasm. I savour it, I savour the moment.