Before you read this, just a couple of points. The characters are NOT fictional. We exist, and enjoyed the online friendship described initially. Obviously, names have been changed, but other than that, many of the initial details are accurate, if a little enhanced! Beyond that, you might like to think of this as a fantasy, or a dream — whatever dreamworld one goes to when thinking ‘what if….’ It will never happen for real, but it’s fun to dream.
Meeting
Chapter 1: Getting to know each other
He wasn’t sure if this was going to be the climax of something wonderful, or another disappointment. It couldn’t really be disappointing, he reflected — meeting people is always good, especially people who you know and have shared so much with.
It had come totally out of the blue — logging on one morning, and Marnie just dropping into conversation: ‘We’re coming to the UK in March’. It turned out that Maria had entered one of her stories for a competition — and unsurprisingly (to those who read them), she had won a tour of Europe! By discussion with the competition organisers, they had managed to arrange a three day break in the UK, away from the planned schedule, on condition that they make all their own arrangements — and that meant Des!
From then, he had just one thought — he had to meet them! His closest on line friend and her closest friend. They had shared secrets, good times, bad times, good moods, bad moods, health and sickness — clothes and nudity. In some ways, he felt he should feel a little embarrassed meeting her — but all he really felt was that knot of apprehension and fluttering excitement which he hadn’t felt since he was a small child on Christmas Eve.
He knew the flight had landed, and they would now be waiting for their luggage. He reflected on their friendship — the virtual strip poker games (played for photographs, viewed in a tiny format on the website, in various states of undress), the uncertainty of any on line relationship — was he really talking to the stunning woman in the pictures, or to someone who was just leading him on — and her friend — gorgeous again — could he really have just happened across two such beautiful women — one a professional model — by coincidence?
Not just that — they seemed such lovely people — intelligent, good conversationalists, open and honest — though he always felt a little bit of holding back — which in light of their further conversations was hardly a surprise. He knew she had had many challenges in her life, mostly as a result of a relationship where she had been betrayed, almost to the point of being abused — but her resilience and strength were just one more thing he admired and respected about her.
The first passengers came through — he actually wondered if he would recognise them — or if they would know him. From the first couple of harassed looking businessmen, who seemed so full of their own importance, more people passed him, some relaxed, some rather awe struck, some just plain confused. Gradually, the trail of people diminished. He knew it — they hadn’t come. All a wind up. Shit — never mind — just five more minutes.
Suddenly he felt an odd sensation in his groin — a strange tingling — somehow oddly familiar — his ‘phone on vibrate! He looked at the text: ‘2 mins — finding trolley — M & M’ ‘M & M — sweet!’, he thought — smiling inwardly at his appalling, juvenile joke. They were here! He could hardly believe it. Of course they were — he should never had doubted them — he hadn’t considered so many things — customs, lost bags — all the irritants which modern airports seem designed to entail.
Around him, there were people hugging and kissing — family reunions, lovers together again, business people shaking hands formally and playing power games (he knew all about the use of handshakes to indicate status). Now he really had to think — how should he greet them? Hugs, kisses, handshakes — or just a smile. Relax — go with the flow — they feel just the same!!
And there they were .. Marnie and Maria ..looking relaxed, if a little tired, and gorgeous. They were pushing two heavily overloaded trolleys — no surprise really — two women here for a three day stay — they’d need vast amounts of clothing!
He considered himself to be very resilient to the physical charms of young women — after all, he worked with hundreds of women in their late teens and early twenties every day, and some of them were very, very attractive. To say he didn’t notice would be a lie, but in his work he overlooked such obvious attributes, and what might be a baptism of lust to some was just something to look past for him — he had trained himself not to gaze longingly at breasts, no matter how much cleavage was exposed, nor to ogle a wiggling bottom in tight jeans going along a corridor. He prided himself on this, as he knew not all his male colleagues could boast the same.
However, as he looked at Marnie and Maria, their physical beauty made him catch his breath. Maria was a few inches shorter, and lacked the languid grace which Marnie, as a result of her profession, he assumed, carried with ease — she almost floated, with a smooth, flowing, liquid movement. Maria exuded sheer energy — not that she lacked grace, but her walk was firm and purposeful — the walk of a beautiful young woman who is confident in her body and doesn’t care which bits bobble and bounce!
She was wearing a plain, black t-shirt and comfortable jeans which did little to hide her shape, but equally little to expose it — she had dressed for comfort, and didn’t care who looked nor what they thought! The contrast with Marnie was evident — Marnie wore a long, flowing skirt and knitted top — both selected to hide her shape and deter unwanted attention. It was odd — walking together like this, it would be Maria who would attract the lustful eyes of male lechery — yet Des knew that, while different, both were equally deserving of admiring glances. Of course, they had exposed so much more to him during their on line poker games.
As they rounded the corner, both spotted him at the same time, and while their appearance had brought back to him the photographs he had seen, their eyes on him made him feel as naked as he had been when it was their turn to win. He tried to think how far things had gone — had they seen him on webcam? If so, what had he done? A flutter of embarrassment went through him — but so what? It had all been fun — they were adults, playing games and no-one had been hurt — in fact, as he remembered it, everyone (even the loser) had had a good time.
As they got close to him, Maria deposited the trolley and walked/dashed round to him, a beaming smile lighting up her whole face. It broke the spell which had enchanted him and he smiled, his facial muscles finally relaxing. She threw her arms around him and planted a kiss on his cheek, before pressing her body into his in a long hug. He could feel her breasts flatten against his chest and her hips against him, but his eyes were drawn to Marnie. They were almost the same height, and their eye contact was easy, even through the barrier created by the trolley.
He returned Maria’s hug and they broke apart, a grin teasing her lips as she saw her friends gazing at one another. She didn’t mind — they had shared so much more time together it was inevitable they would be fascinated by one another.
‘Well’, she said, ‘are you going to say hello?’
The spell was broken and Marnie’s eyes started to flicker and avoid full on contact as she moved around the trolley, hand extended in formal greeting. Maria laughed:
‘You two ..so formal!’.
He took Marnie’s delicate, manicured hand in his, as both smiled nervously, not a word passing between them. He didn’t want to break the physical contact, as all around them seemed to fade into the background, as if they were the only two people in a post-apocalyptic world. She made no move to pull back, and it wasn’t until Maria’s laugh brought them back to reality that they realised that they had perhaps over done things a little.
‘Come on — it’s been a long trip — we’re knackered and we’ve got a long drive ahead. Let’s get going and leave the romance for later’.
They released one another, Marnie’s face flushing slightly at Maria’s teasing. She was right of course — we had three days — but first they had to drive to the coast of South Wales, to Des’s two bedroom holiday flat where they would all be staying.
They had joked that the accommodation would be paid for in modelling services — Des’s love of photography and Marnie’s professional skills being well matched for that — but he had no intention of taking advantage of that little bit of online banter — he was delighted to save them money, and for him, just having them there was payment enough.
So they began the long haul to Des’s Toyota, crammed in the luggage (making Des wish he’d hired a removal van) and began the long drive up the M4.
Arriving
The journey took about 3 hours. Marnie sat in the back for the first part, dozing fitfully. The flight had not been good — a crying baby and a rugby team returning from a tour had made proper sleep impossible, and while Maria had grabbed a few hours, Marnie had been unable to relax.
Conversation was mostly casual — the weather at this time of year, various landmarks and places of beauty, work, plans for the next couple of days etc — until Maria decided to ask what had clearly been on her mind:
‘What do you expect from these few days?’
Des had no idea — he was willing to just play it by ear and see how things turned out. He said as much.
‘That’s good’, said Maria, ‘We haven’t really any idea ourselves, but ..’ did he really see a twinkle in her eye? ‘We are determined to have fun!’
After that, they returned to their previous pusillanimous ramblings, enjoying each other’s company and finding they had far more in common than their previous discussions had ever led them to believe.
They pulled off the Motorway south of Worcester and headed for Ross on Wye. Des knew the area well, and had in mind a pleasant pub for lunch — so much better than Motorway services, and a chance for Maria to experience something authentically English (and Marnie too, he supposed — she had left London as a child, so her memories would be at best sparse).
It was probably bad timing as they pulled up next to the Saracens Head on the banks of the Wye. Marnie had just moved from her shallow dozes into a deeper sleep, and waking her was not popular. Des knew that one legacy of her past was the potential for sudden mood swings, and he watched in admiration as she controlled herself. It was a big step forward for her that she could now exert that measure of control, and while she remained taciturn and clearly not herself, she smiled and contributed to the positive atmosphere which the three of them were generating.
The weather was pleasant, and warm enough to sit outside, so they chose a table with a glorious view along the river, looking towards the rugged hillside opposite, dotted with cottages which looked as if they could slide down at any moment. Des knew enough about women to know that they would want to talk about him — it would be naive to think otherwise — so after some perusal of the menu, he went to the bar to order food and drinks.
As they sipped their drinks, Des pointed out some of the salient features of this beautiful part of the Forest of Dean, drawing on knowledge accrued when he had stayed at the cottage owned by his father, which was within walking distance of where they sat.
It was clear that both girls were shattered, so he took on the responsibility of maintaining conversation. The food arrived, and they ate in silence, both clearly relishing their first proper meal since leaving Canada. As the last mouthful disappeared, Maria looked up from her plate and — as she often seemed to do — said what was on everybody’s mind:
‘Let’s just get on the road. I’m sick to death of travelling, and I want to just put my feet up and sleep properly!’
This time, the car journey passed in virtual silence. Both Marnie and Maria dozed, while Des concentrated on the road ahead.
As the car lurched to a halt, both stirred and looked around them, taking in the sea front, the cry of the seagulls and the gentle shushing of the sea on the shore. ‘We’re here’, said Des — ‘welcome to your holiday resort!’
They all got out of the car, Des flexing his legs and arms, Marnie yawning deeply, while Maria stretched like a cat being told to get off the sofa, stretching her arms behind her, so that Des could hardly ignore her breasts pushed forward to their fullest extent, stretching the material of her t-shirt, showing every contour of her bra — and maybe even a hint of nipple. She noticed his glanced and giggled. ‘Sorry — giving you a bit of an eyeful!’ she tittered.
He smiled: ‘Feel free!’. It was the first suggestive moment between them, and seemed to almost dispel the taboo. For goodness sake, they had met on an online strip poker site — even if this wasn’t about sex, they should at least be able to have a bit of a laugh without the schoolyard embarrassment that can go with any mention of bums, boobs or willies!
‘Go on in’, said Des, tossing the flat key to Marnie — ‘I’ll bring your bags’.
He immediately regretted the offer, as he looked at the mountain in his car, but set to with gusto. Twenty minutes later, the bags were in the hallway and Des wandered through to the living room, where Marnie and Maria were gazing out at the beach, pointing out the boats, birds and general mish-mash of activity which was taking place. They had raided the kitchen, finding tea-bags, dried milk, a kettle and mugs, and a steaming cup of tea awaited him.
‘What are the sleeping arrangements?’ asked Maria.
‘Your choice — double bed in the room to the left, twin beds to the right’.
‘Twin, I think — we’re good friends, but not in that way’. Marnie gave a little giggle.
‘Fine by me’, said Des, ‘I can have that vast double all to myself!’. And it was indeed vast — he had often thought that three could sleep in it comfortably, but quickly banished the thought from his mind.
‘Do you mind if we have a lie down this afternoon’, said Maria — ‘it’s been a long journey’.
He had expected this, and had decided already that he would pop to the supermarket about ten miles away to buy necessary provisions. He explained to them that part of the reason he had been able to make this trip was that he would be delivering a paper at Swansea University at a national education conference, and he had also arranged to pop in there to meet various luminaries of that organisation and check the arrangements.
He would be due back at about 6pm, and had made bookings for them all at a local restaurant. The St. David’s Country Club sounded nice, and he had been drawn by their preference for formal dress — though exactly what was meant by ‘traditional Welsh fare’ had him completely baffled. Having checked if there was anything they wanted, he made his way back to the car.
The Evening Out
Having judged that they would have had a few hours sleep, he sent a brief text message to let them know that a table was booked for seven o’clock as he stepped in the car. He was well aware that if he had told them earlier, they would probably have foregone sleep in order to get ready for the evening, so allowing time for showers and changing was probably the best way — though no doubt they would still claim they were being rushed.
He hadn’t even started the car when his phone rang. Inevitably, it was Maria — what should they wear?! Having told them he would be wearing suit and tie, and that the restaurant expected formality, he emphasized that tonight was not the night for exotic ball gowns (he knew well Marnie’s penchant for this type of attire) — but talked about the formal ball at the close of the conference the following night — an event he would normally have avoided like the plague, but which he knew both ladies would adore.
He had managed to secure three tickets, along with the name of a high class clothing hire shop where he could get a formal suit and Marnie and Maria could spend hours ensuring that every eye in the room would be fixed on them. As he told Maria about this, he heard her passing on the message to Marnie, and heard her clap her hands in excitement at the prospect.
‘You realise,’ she said, ‘you’ve just sentenced me to two hours of going through gowns and three hours shopping for the right lingerie and accessories!’
He smiled, knowing that they would have fun, and plenty of time to tour the historic town while he was at the conference, sending delegates to the arms of Morpheus.
‘Wait, wait’, pleaded Maria, ‘What about tonight? What do we wear?’.
He laughed: ‘It says formal — I’m wearing a suit — you choose — I know you’ll both look gorgeous. If all else fails, just go naked and say you lost a game of strip poker!’.
Maria giggled — her giggle was infectious, and he was finding, very sexy and highly suggestive — what he might have called a ‘dirty laugh’:
‘Maybe afterwards’.
After brief farewells, and an agreement that they would be out of the shower when he got back, they terminated the call, leaving him to drive back.
The brief exchange had got him wondering — was she serious about afterwards? Surely not — just being flirty and teasing him — something both of them had done mercilessly in their on-line communications, frequently leaving him aroused and with little choice but to seek satisfaction alone. He dismissed the idea, not wanting to raise any false hopes, and reaffirmed his determination to take things as they came.
Arriving back, with some half hour to go before they needed to leave, he was greeted by a relatively peaceful scene — Marnie was nowhere to be seen — putting on the ‘war paint’ he guessed – Maria was clearly finishing in the shower, as he heard the water stop and the sounds of shuffling in the bathroom.
As he stood in the living room, just re-orientating himself and sorting out his own plan of action, the bathroom lock clicked, the handle turned and out popped Maria — dressed in an absurdly short towel, tied above her breasts and barely covering her backside. She was still wet and her skin pink from the hot shower, and he watched the rivulets of water run along the point where her thighs joined, wishing he could track them upwards to their point of origin.
She didn’t appear to have seen him as she covered the short distance from bathroom to bedroom — and he desperately hoped she found a reason to bend over — but she made it evident she was aware of his presence as she reached the bedroom door, lifting the bottom of the towel to flash one pert, smooth buttock and looking over her shoulder with a wink as he gaped. The bedroom door closed and he could hear the two girls giggling as Maria no doubt told Marnie about her the look on Des’s face.
He popped into the bathroom and showered himself, before going to his own room to dress in a charcoal grey suit, white shirt and plain blue, silk tie. On the way out of his room, he tapped on the door of the room opposite, shouting:
‘Come on — we need to go in five minutes’. He sat on the sofa to wait, and a few seconds later, heard the handle turn and the rustle of fabric as his two muses stepped forth. They stood, framed in the doorway, looking stunning. For a moment, he just stared, then returned to reality:
‘Wow! Picture!’
He grabbed his camera, setting it on top the cabinet, pointing at them and quickly made use of the time delay feature, so he could get an image of the three of them together. He didn’t plan to use their sojourn as a photo session, but this simply had to be captured. Standing between the two of them, Maria relaxed and smiled at the camera — Marnie instantly dropped a shoulder, shifted a leg and morphed into the perfect model pose as the flash dazzled them.
‘Let’s go’, he said as each took an arm and they descended the stairs.
Alighting at the restaurant, he made a lengthier appraisal of them. Maria looked gorgeous — a simple ‘little black dress’, with sheer tights visible from just above the knee, and stilettos making her as tall as her companion. Marnie wore a plain, white silk blouse, unbuttoned at the neck to reveal her throat and a small necklace with a silver charm. Her long skirt hugged her hips and drew in her waist, emphasizing the perfection of her figure, before billowing out to swing freely as she moved. Both were sparsely made up, adding just enough to highlight certain features, especially eyes and cheekbones, but retaining their natural aura.
As they entered the reception area, eyes turned to gaze at them — men appreciating the sheer beauty with perhaps a hint of lust, women taking stock and comparing with a hint of envy (to which they would never have admitted), before looking back to their partners and resuming conversations with more than a hint of irritation.
Des found this amusing — noting some of the annoyed reactions at the open staring, and the efforts to flirt and regain the full attention of their lover. He noticed one woman lick her lips sensually, while another drew her shoulders forwards to emphasize her breasts — and he was positive he caught a third trying to regain attention with a casual pinch of her nipple, causing it to erect and point accusingly.
He smiled, hearing a muted ‘Ouch!’, as one middle aged man who had clearly been too obvious in his lechery received a pointed heel in the top of his foot — he wouldn’t be getting any that night!
Having announced themselves, they took a seat in the bar and ordered drinks — soft drinks for Des and Marnie, while Maria asked for a glass of red wine.
They made light conversation about their day — Des talking about the inadequacy of the technical equipment for his presentation and how he intended to escape the conference once he had done his bit and meet them for lunch the following day, after sorting out their clothes for the evening.
There was some discussion about the type of thing they would wear — Des listened as Maria ran through an endless range of minuscule variations to ball gowns, all of which were apparently important. Marnie, of course, often wore such things in her professional life, and, he assumed, knew precisely what made her feel comfortable and what looked best.
After a few minutes, they were informed that their table was ready and shown to an elegantly prepared corner table, not totally private, but with sufficient space around them to prevent casual eavesdropping.
As they were handed the menus, they fell silent as they perused the ‘Traditional Welsh Fare’, which seemed to consist of several lamb dishes, alongside some of the more typical restaurant meals. After a couple of minutes, they started to discuss their choices, choosing eventually to forego a starter and plunge straight into the main course — followed by something sweet and luxurious from the dessert trolley.
Maria took it on herself to order for both her and Marnie, while Des ordered his own meal, followed by refreshing their drinks — again, soft drinks for himself and Marnie and a pleasant glass of Rioja for Maria.
As they waited for food, the chat moved, for the first time, towards the history of their relationship. Des commented how peculiar it felt, having only ever been at the end of a keyboard before, that they were now all sitting together around a table. In some ways, he commented, it was almost like slipping into another dimension — as if they had, in a way, been swallowed into their computer monitors and drawn to a single location. He might have preferred the analogy of ‘died and gone to heaven’, but that may have been a bit too much.
Indeed, he was able to draw several literary analogies which he felt reflected their situation — The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, Alice in Wonderland — or movies — Sliding Doors, or (as he thought a little more laterally) The Twilight Zone. Whatever, it felt odd.
Food arrived and the discussion moved to their times playing on line games — the people, the incidents, the fun — open questions, laughing and exchanging anecdotes. It was as if some of the discomfort which surrounded the distinctly ‘sexy’ nature of their previous communication was being dispelled, and they were readjusting to a natural and open friendship, where potentially embarrassing subjects were addressed with humour and smiles, and self deprecation was the order of the day.
Maria, of course, was the leader in this — she had her genuine ‘wild’ experiences to contribute to the virtual experiences of Marnie and Des — she talked about these openly, at times causing Des to see if neighbouring tables had tuned in to certain words, as her Friday night strip poker games were discussed in more detail than had ever been shared via e-mail. Odd, reflected Des, how it seemed easier to talk face to face than from thousands of miles apart.
From time to time, Marnie would touch Maria’s arm or hand, whispering brief words or sentences to Maria, which Maria would take on and develop into whole areas of conversation. Des found it intriguing to watch the dynamics between the two — the touching which took place, and the almost telepathic awareness of one another. It would have been easy for Marnie to be isolated from the conversation, but instead, she laughed, giggled and made input through her gestures and body language.
Des found himself reflecting on how body language is over seventy per cent of communication, and how this conversation was clear evidence of that. The words provided light distraction and flowed easily between himself and Maria, while the truth of their closeness became self-evident to anyone observing — Des wondered if there was a psychologist in the room analysing every gesture.
He was very aware that in drawing Marnie into their inner circle, he had been making frequent and intimate eye contact, ensuring that all the unsaid elements crackled between them like electrical sparks reinforcing the strength of emotion which all three knew existed.
‘I’m going to ‘powder my nose”, said Maria, standing up abruptly, and for the first time Des and Marnie were alone.
They looked into one another eyes, long, deep and unselfconsciously. Her eyes begged a response from him, and he gave it:
‘Yes, you’re everything I ever dreamed you would be.’
Her hand reached across the table and touched his, and in her cool fingers, he felt sheer energy flow into him. He turned his palm upwards so that he could take his hand in hers.
‘We have to make the most of this time’, he said, and in her eyes, while he saw uncertainty, he also saw the desire to free herself from her past, and to genuinely place her trust in someone other than Maria — the one person she genuinely loved with a purity and innocence that only true friendship can bring.
Maria returned, clearly noticing what had passed between them and how the dynamic at the table had shifted, but before she could comment, a waiter appeared and whisked away the plates in preparation for dessert.
The spell broken, they returned to their previous discussions, and it was not until they were finishing the last spoonful that Des noticed the clouds across Marnie’s face, and the rubbing of her temple. He recognised the symptoms quickly, as did Maria, and both knew it was time to move.
Marnie’s migraines were legendary, and the previous thirty six hours had been a recipe which was always liable to wear her down — not just tiredness, but emotional stress — so much more difficult for her as she encountered the demons of her past.
Quickly, the bill was paid and they made their way to the car, Maria assuring Des that some tablets and a good night’s sleep would restore Marnie fully by the morning.
Making their way back to the flat, Marnie closed her eyes to blot out the aggressive sodium lights, but unable to drift into a pain free state, and they returned in silence, not wishing to give her anything which might increase the agony.
On re-entering the flat, Maria dashed into the kitchen, returning with water and pills which Marnie rapidly swallowed.
‘We’ve got about five minutes before those things knock her out,’ whispered Maria, ‘ I’ll go and get her into bed — you open some wine and I’ll be back in a minute’.
The Poker Game
Five minutes later, she returned.
‘She’ll sleep till morning, be grouchy for fifteen minutes, then back to normal’, she said. ‘ So — what now?’
Was that a hint? Des could hardly miss the twinkle in her eye, but was determined not to spoil the weekend by doing something stupid.
‘Your choice’, he said, ‘You must be tired too’.
‘Hardly — I’ve slept more over the last day than I normally would in a week. Shall we see how good you really are at poker?’
He was hardly likely to miss this opportunity — there were cards in a drawer and even some plastic chips which he quickly retrieved and shared between them.
They played for half an hour or so, Des having possibly the better of the exchanges as his pile of chips seemed slightly larger, and Maria seemed to be getting a little frustrated with the cards. He was no great poker player, and was actually quite proud of his winnings. ‘Should we just play for fun’, asked Maria, ‘ I’m going to end up with no chips, and I find the betting rather dull anyway’.
He was no great gambler, and happily agreed, replacing the chips in their box and dealing a new hand.
He looked at the two threes in his hand as she discarded three cards. Flicking across three replacement cards for her, he discarded two, keeping the threes and an ace, and looked in delight as he dealt himself another three and an additional ace. He smiled and presented his full house, as she laid a pair of eights on the coffee table.
‘You win’, she said, slipping off one of her stiletto shoes.
He assumed she was just getting comfortable, as they sat on the floor either side of the low table, but half-joked:
‘Is that what I win? It’ll never suit me!’.
She looked him in the eye:
‘No, it’s what I lose’.
Once again, she giggled her infectious, sexy laugh.
‘Ah ..’ he suddenly caught on: ‘We’re playing for clothes’.
‘If you want to’, she smirked.
What a question — of course he wanted to, but a concern niggled: ‘Will you tell Marnie?’.
‘Of course – we share everything,’.
He nodded: ‘Good — I want her to know’.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Maria, ‘it will change nothing — but’ … suddenly serious, ‘ We aren’t going to do ‘it’. She should be first’.
That suited him fine.
‘OK — what are the rules?’.
‘Item of clothing each game — your shoes count as one so we’re even — and after that … dares — anything goes — except what we just agreed’.
‘Fine by me,’ he said, ‘Ready to get naked?’
The slight tension was broken and she giggled again:
‘You haven’t got a hope.’
Maria shuffled the cards expertly and with deft flicks of the wrist dealt the two hands.
Des looked at the pair of eights, immediately deciding to swap three cards. He dropped them on the table and collected the freshly dealt ones, looking at each separately. There was nothing to improve his hand, but Maria didn’t need to know that. He gave his most confident smile as Maria disposed of one card and collected another. A beaming smile crossed her face.
‘Two pairs’, she claimed.
He placed his hand face up, demonstrating his loss.
‘My shoes’, he said, unlacing first one, then the other.
‘Wait, wait’, she cried urgently, making him think there was a problem.
She stood up, and hobbled across the room in her single shoe.
‘I want to have a full record of this’.
She returned with the camera, and took three pictures as he removed the footwear, smiling at the camera. He could barely believe that not only were they playing strip poker, but Maria wanted to have a photographic record of the whole event!
‘Do I get to take pictures of you?’ He asked.
‘Of course — if you win another hand!’.
Both laughed, and he picked up the cards again, mashing them in his hands before passing each one on to the table.
He mentally ran through the list of clothes they were each wearing — he still had a jacket, shirt, tie, trousers, socks and underwear. He guessed she wore her one shoe, the dress, stockings, suspender belt and underwear.
It struck him that for her to really see any of his flesh, he needed to lose four hands, while she would be in her underwear after two. It was a tantalizing thought and he felt a twitch in his groin, which he hoped would not be too evident.
The cards were even less kind to him this time — an attempted flush went badly wrong, leaving him with a ten as the highest card in his hand. It was no contest for Maria’s pair of queens, and he submitted to being photographed again, this time removing his sock.
For the next few hands, Maria was very much in control, taking his other sock, jacket and tie before slipping out of her other shoe as his luck changed.
As she did this, he was again aware of how everything she did seemed to be impregnated with a hint of eroticism.
As he held the camera, she lifted her leg onto a chair, allowing her dress to slide up and reveal the upper border of her stockings. She bent forward, making him aware of her heavy, shapely breasts rubbing against her thighs, and looked directly into the camera, her tongue protruding between her lips like a satisfied cat.
Again, he started to feel the growing rigidity, but realised he could do little to hide it if she looked. Chances were she was going to see it later anyway, he thought, so what the hell! She may well take it as a compliment!
The tension in the room seemed to increase a little, as both realised that the next hand would lead to greater exposure — Des would lose his shirt, and Maria her dress.
She dealt the cards and he picked up a three, and ace, a nine, another three and (he almost shouted with joy) a third three. He discarded two cards, now confident that in a few moments he would be gazing at her gorgeous body, clad in nothing but lingerie — a sight which, he was certain, would make a Victoria’s Secret advert about as sexy as the latest Disney movie. He picked up his next two cards — a five and a nine- but didn’t care.
Smiling, he laid each card down one at a time, waiting to see if her face would fall or if her confidence would remain as she continued to strip. She looked and let out a mock sigh of frustration, laying her first two cards out —
‘Pair of aces,’ she said, ‘and a four and a six’.
She paused, and he realised she was about to deliver the ‘coup de grace’.
‘And ..oh look .. another ace’.
He wanted to swear and curse, but submitted to her giggling at the sudden deflation of his ill placed confidence.
‘Strip’, she breathed, collecting the camera and pointing it at him, snapping merrily as he undid the buttons and peeled of the shirt in the best impression of a sexy striptease he could manage.
The next hand was dealt and he looked despairingly at his ace high. Change all? Or keep the ace just in case. He decided that his luck was such that he may as well hang on to the ace. Aware of his poor hand, she giggled again:
‘Trousers next — then one more hand before the dares!!’
She was loving it — and while he didn’t really mind her seeing him naked, he was very apprehensive about the dares — and especially so if she was to remain almost fully clothed. It would place him in a very vulnerable position — not to mention, of course, that she would have a full set of photographs of him stripping naked — not to mention whatever else she might dare him to do.
He picked up his four cards, and his heart leapt — he had collected another ace — at least he had a chance. As she placed her cards on the table, he realised that his luck had finally changed — she produced a pair of sixes. He wanted to jump up and down and dance round the room, but felt that may be an over-reaction.
Instead, he collected the camera and prepared himself for her strip.
She swayed like a professional stripper, rocking to the rhythm of a non-existent rumba beat. Turning her back to him, her hand reached up to grasp the zip, and slowly pulled it down, allowing the dress to fall away from her shoulders, revealing her black bra straps against her beautiful milky skin, and exposing the top of her suspender belt and matching panties.
Looking over her shoulder for the benefit of the camera, she shrugged one strap half way down her arm, the n repeated this, looking over the other shoulder. She stood still, allowing gravity to slide the straps off her arms before the dress was halted in its downward motion by her hips. Grabbing the fabric with her hands, she slowly, steadily, pushed the crumpled piece of clothing down her legs, bending forward to offer the best possible view for Des as the fabric on her panties tightened across her buttocks and slid into every available crevice as if sprayed on.
She slipped the dress off and stood upright (the word ‘erect’ was not one Des wanted in his mind right now), and clutching the dress across her breasts, turned to face the camera. Slowly, she let it fall, dropping one arm, but still leaving the other positioned in such a way that her nipples were hidden.
She clasped hands, and slowly, steadily, raised her arms high above her, accentuating her slender form, stretching upwards and offering a serious challenge to the bra. He could now see that her nipples were erect through the bra, and realised that his own erection must be becoming quite evident.
Suddenly, she dropped the pose. Time for the next hand — and she didn’t want to over excite him — just yet!
The cards were dealt, and as he collected his hand, he felt again that little lift in the tension. He wondered what she would take off next — if she lost another hand.
He examined the cards — a pair of aces, a king, three and two. She discarded two cards, and he decided to hang on to the king as well as the pair — just in case. He picked up his two cards, and almost shouted with delight as he saw the second king appear. This had to be a winning hand — two pairs, kings and aces …
He allowed a smile to blossom on his face, as he laid the cards in front of him. He even leaned over to grab the camera in anticipation of her removing a stocking.
‘I got two pairs as well’ , she murmured, laying down a pair of threes; ‘I’ve got two threes .. and ..oh ..look… another two threes’.
His face fell, and she laughed out loud as his confidence was totally shattered.
‘The boxers please’.
She lifted the camera out of his hands.
Suddenly he was very aware that he was about to be totally naked in front of this gorgeous young woman, with a rock hard erection.
He almost regretted having shaved all the hair from his pubic region — though it was something he had been doing for a while and which made him feel comfortable. Not only would she see his penis, which he feared might explode at any minute, she would see the scar on his groin from his hernia operation, and, if she looked closely enough, the scar on his scrotum from a much more recent operation. He knew she would have no similar defects.
Remaining seated, he tried to wriggle out of his shorts, avoiding exposing himself. She giggled again:
‘Coward’, she said, ‘you know you’re only postponing it until the dares’.
‘Do you want me to stand up’, he asked, not sure what answer he wanted — it may be better to get it over with now.
‘Nah, I’m going to have plenty of dares, I’ll be seeing every little bit of you soon — may as well wait another five minutes’.
Hmm ..he wondered about the dares — and actually started to wonder if his need for release would be met in front of her, or if he would be left to finish himself off alone. He hoped she would watch him.
The next hand was dealt. Maria changed four cards, giving his pair of queens some hope. She smiled as she picked up her hand, while he realised that there was no improvement. Laying her cards on the table, he saw that this time, it was his turn to win – but what would she remove?
Standing, she reached behind her back, moving towards the fastening on her bra. His stomach fluttered and his penis twitched at the thought that she was about to reveal her breasts in all their glory. Then she stopped.
‘Nah … too much excitement for now’, she said.
He recognised the tease and loved it. She began to unclip her stockings, which remained on her legs as if by magic – hold ups were wonderful things! Then, she twisted the suspender belt and unclipped it, dropping it onto the pile of clothes.
It was then he remembered – she liked her legs covered – Marnie had told him – it was her trademark, and it looked as if she was sticking with it. Fine by him – it was a look, if anything, even sexier than full nudity. Taking a final picture which accentuated her gorgeous long legs, clad in the sheerest of silk, he prepared for the next hand. This was for her bra – or whatever she wanted him to do!
The cards were being kind, it seemed – two pairs from the deal. No improvement – but it was enough. She remained seated, as he had at the first moment of intimate exposure, and reached behind her. As she undid the clasp, the cups of her bra slipped lower as they supported the full weight of her breasts.
Placing one hand across them, she shrugged off one shoulder strap, before swapping hands to repeat the process with the other strap. Lifting her arm slightly, the bra fell away, leaving her seated with hands across her breasts, looking as pure and virginal as a schoolgirl, caught in the bath.
She looked up and smiled – the body confidence returned, the innocent act over. She spread her fingers, letting her hard, round nipples poke through, then drew her hands slowly away, at the same time pinching her nipples between thumb and forefinger, making them even more pert than before. She caressed the underside of her breasts, finally letting them support themselves.
He stared in unabashed awe at the perfect uptilt, the rigid, reddy-brown points, which seemed to point directly at him, surrounded by an almost circular areola of matching colour, about an inch in diameter.
After a few seconds in suspended animation, he smiled.
‘You really look gorgeous — like a classical Greek statue.’
She giggled, making her breasts bounce in a way which he found incredibly stimulating — if it was possible for him to be even more stimulated.
‘Let’s keep going’, she said, ‘It’s late, and you have an early start. How about three more hands, and we’ll see what happens’.
‘OK — you’re right — I have to do my presentation, and we both need to rest’.
Still, he wondered where this was heading — he was getting desperate for release, and wondered if she felt the same level of desperation, or if nudity for her was simply natural and beyond the sexual stimulus which he felt so strongly.
He also wondered about her loyalty to Marnie. He knew they were not going to have full sex, but wondered where the line would be drawn. The only way to find out was to carry on and see.
The hands were dealt, and he knew almost instantly that he was about to get the first dare. Three low hearts, two of clubs and three of diamonds. Not even a high card worth keeping. He dropped two, hoping that luck might bring him a flush — and knowing that under any other circumstance, he would have folded. The ten and queen of spades which he received did little to reassure him — especially as the smug look on Maria’s face indicated a good hand. She laid out a pair of sevens and a pair of kings. Dare time!
‘Time I got to see you properly. Stand up and let me look.’
He stood, aware of his penis standing proudly erect, pointing directly at her. She seemed to love scrutinising him, taking in every detail of his shaft, the engorged purple head and back down to his tight balls. She looked with interest at the scars on his groin and scrotum, clearly wondering about their origin, and was fascinated by the fact that he was totally shaven.
She stood up, and came closer, clearly wanting to look at every detail. He was undecided whether or not this was arousing for him or embarrassing — he had rarely had anyone examine him in such intense detail.
‘Turn around’, she commanded, and he did, feeling her scrutiny of his back, buttocks and thighs. ‘Stand side on’. He did so, his cock standing proudly out from his body. She moved so close that he could almost feel her breath on him. If he had, he knew that he could not have held back, and his semen would have exploded onto her face and hair. This thought alone very nearly made it happen.
Then she pulled away.
‘You’ll do’. She smiled. ‘You know Marnie wants you — I’m just checking that you’re up to scratch for her!’.
The next hand was dealt. He was very aware that he could have two more dares still, and not manage to see what lay between that thin piece of fabric around her thighs. He was desperate to look.
The cards were kind. Three sixes for him, while Maria could produce just a pair of kings.
Unlike his prudery when removing his own final covering, Maria stood. Turning her back to him, she slowly slid the panties down, wiggling her hips as she did so. She gradually revealed more of the cleft between her firm, rounded buttocks, and just as she was about to slip them onto her thighs, she bent forward at the waist, giving him an outstanding view of her most intimate parts, revealed in all their beauty by the parting of her taut cheeks as she bent forward.
With measured movements, she turned, finally facing him with one leg drawn across the other to limit his view of the region directly between her legs. She was not shaven like him, but clearly took care to manage her pubic hair, which was neatly trimmed into a small triangle, barely thick enough to hide the start of the opening beneath.
She moved her leg, and stood with feet slightly apart, so that he could look through the delicate shadow of her hair and see her most secret parts, slightly veiled. He looked at the start of the opening, the downward sweep to her pouting, swollen lips — and was that a glistening of moisture which he could see?
Smoothly and gracefully she returned to the floor — still in the stockings, but otherwise naked. Last hand. The cards were dealt, but before picking them up, Maria abruptly interjected:
‘Hold on — last hand. How about setting the dare now?’
‘OK … sounds good — what have you got in mind?’. She clearly had an idea, and in some ways he was glad not to have to think what he might get her to do.
‘The loser has to finish themselves off while the winner watches’.
You mean make themselves cum?’ He asked, just wanting clarification.
‘Yes! If you want to put it like it that’. He indicated that the suggestion was acceptable — and actually didn’t care if he won or lost — though he would give anything to see Maria leaning back, moaning with her hand between her thighs.
The cards were dealt, and he looked at his hand — pair of threes, a seven, nine and queen. He waited while Maria exchanged four –a good sign for him. He dropped seven and nine, hanging on to the queen — just in case. Picking up the cards, he revealed a four and … another queen.
His heart and stomach performed a triple somersault with a double back flip, while his throbbing erection seemed to reach unexplored heights of tension.
He laid his cards on the table — first the two threes, then the four and finally the coup de grace — the queens. He looked at her, raising an eyebrow, and was surprised to see a broad smile across her face. Surely she hadn’t won — this had happened to him enough times this evening — normally winning hands being stolen away. She started to giggle.
Selecting two cards from her hand, she lay them down — a pair of queens. Another two — astonishingly, a pair of threes. All depended on that final card, and he knew that she was more than likely to have something greater than a four. She laid it on the table, and both of them started to laugh. It was that almost unheard of outcome — an impossible result surely — she had proffered another four. They had identical hands!
‘So nobody loses’, he said, caught in ambivalence between relief at not having to perform and disappointment at not being able to watch her tease herself to orgasm. ‘I suppose we just go to bed and say it’s honours even.’
‘You must be joking,’ she exclaimed, ‘I say we both win and both lose — I’m ready to explode — and … well … just look at you!!’.
‘You mean we both finish off..together?’
It was perfect — seeing one another in the most intimate of acts, and that ultimate release of the tension which had been in the air since the first hand was dealt — his only concern was making sure he lasted beyond ten seconds.
‘Yes’, she said. Her hand slid up her body, stroking first the areola, then gently teasing her nipple to a firm, erect mound, which she pinched firmly, causing her to draw breath sharply and exhale a long sigh. Her thighs fell apart revealing her swollen outer lips, glistening with a hint of moisture, framed by the carefully tended triangle of short hairs. He looked at her, stunned, speechless and enraptured.
As her fingers continued to tweak the pert, proud nipple, she lovingly caressed her body with the other hand, first her stomach, then down to her thighs, before tending her pubic hair gently. All this time, he stroked himself to ensure his erection remained solid, but with a slow deliberation not to finish too quickly.
‘Don’t rush,’ she breathed, ‘I want to watch you finish’.
Gently she parted her outer lips with first and third fingers, her middle finger falling to the small solid nodule within which would bring such pleasure. Her finger flicked rapidly, becoming moist with her juices. Her breathing became rapid, laboured, as her hand slid down, inserting two fingers into the slippery cavity and allowing her palm to treat her throbbing clitoris.
‘Wait till I tell you’, she muttered, as he continued with his slow, purposeful motion.
She was close, and her fingers flickered back and forth as small moans emitted from her mouth, her face flushed to a glorious cerise. The pace of her stroking and her rate of breathing increased as she approached her orgasm, finally becoming a long, drawn out wail as she achieved her goal. For a few minutes, she lay still, as if recovering, then looked directly at him as she removed her hand to savour her scent and taste as she licked her fingers. She knew it was overtly sexual, almost slutty, but the ultimate peak of eroticism.
‘Your turn’.
She sat so she could see his every movement. ‘Tell me when you’re about to finish’, she said.
It was quick — he stroked to one goal — expelling his hot semen from his body. His tension mounted, muscles in his stomach, thighs and groin becoming rigid, gasps of breath, punctuated suddenly by his cry of ‘Now, now’. Maria dropped to her knees, directly before him, cupping her hands beneath the purple, swollen tip of his penis. With a gasp, semen projected, the first pulse so powerful that it landed directly between her breasts, dribbling down to her stomach. Subsequent emissions were less powerful, falling into her hands, as she gathered the warm, creamy substance.
Finally, he was spent, small drips from his cock falling onto her hands. He relaxed, breathing slowing, as she reached for a box of tissues and proceeded to clean her hands.
‘There, couldn’t leave a mess on the carpet!’.
Both were spent, exhausted, tired but invigorated. After briefly tidying away the cards and glasses, and exchanging kisses, as friends rather than lovers, they headed to their rooms. As they went, Maria turned:
‘I know you think that was good — but wait for Marnie — it’ll be perfect’. With that thought, he closed his door and settled into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter 2: Formal Affairs
The following morning arrived with a cacophony of unwanted music from his phone alarm – ‘Wake up’ had seemed such a good choice at the time, but it was far from the first time that the brutal wrench from sleep had made him decide that something a little more gentle would suit him better – after last night, that decision was now taken hmm ..which one? Ian Dury encouraging any potential co-sleeper to ‘Wake Up and Make Love With Me’, or the more tactful ‘Get Up’ from James.
Later – now he had to get moving – not even time for a shower – or even … he looked down and saw his fully engorged penis, clearly revisiting the previous night. So tempting to close his eyes, visualise Maria’s spread legs, hand rubbing herself, slick with her own juices, her breasts full, with nipples high and erect, mouth open and gasping as she prepared for her own orgasm, eyes open and fixed on him as he felt his semen rise to be propelled a seemingly impossible distance on to her.
No – save it – he didn’t want to make any assumptions, but if nothing happened tonight, he would still have his trusty hand and the images burned on his mind.
Having taken the decision, the only problem now was how not to masturbate, or indeed spend the rest of the day with a raging hard on. The answer was easy – think about what he had to do. So, as he dressed, he went over his presentation – ‘The Practitioner as Manager’ and reviewed mentally all of his statistics and facts.
What a pointless, sorry, existence it seemed – preaching the blatantly obvious to so-called academics. But it was his job, and while he was known for being a little maverick in his approach (if not in his card playing), it was important that he keep jumping through the hoops – preparing to come alive later when he met his two wonderful friends.
After grabbing a few biscuits for breakfast, he left a quick note for the sleeping beauties, with the name and address of the clothing hire shop, where he knew they would fill their time while he was out. He toyed with leaving some cash for a taxi, but felt it would look inappropriate – as if he was some kind of ‘sugar daddy’. Instead, he left instructions for them to charge it to the generous expenses budget which was accessible to him, which gave them the option.
So doing, he left and made his way to work.
The day seemed interminable. His 9am presentation was as he thought it would be – delivered to a hung over audience who ranged from those who didn’t care, and wouldn’t use the research anyway through those who were eager to grasp on to new learning, to inform and guide their proteges, to those who were irrationally opposed to his ideas because they had theories of their own which were so much better if only people would listen, to those few who would genuinely grasp his ideas, consider them, evaluate them, raise concerns and ultimately leave with the intention of trying them out in a practical setting.
He, himself, was a rare breed, in that he simply didn’t care. Use what you like, ignore what you don’t. Simple.
The day progressed as these days tend to – slow start as he held forth from the rostrum with his very basic powerpoint display, 45 minutes of talk, followed by 30 minutes of questions – his own immediate colleagues being the most vociferous in trying to undermine him. Bastards. Then coffee and in to workshop groups to extend the potential of the theories. Ultimately, 15 minutes of feedback before lunch, and the chance to call Marnie and Maria.
Of course, nothing is simple – a crowd of delegates surrounding him, wishing to perpetuate the debates, offer him the chance to deliver training, and, in some cases (he was quite certain), seeking to get him naked and enjoy an adulterous fuck, because, hey .. isn’t that what conferences were for?
Having fought his way through, without actually telling anyone to ‘get the fuck out of my way’ (restraint which he almost regretted), he found a quiet space outside where he could make the call he really wanted to make.
Maria answered on the second ring.
‘At last – what are you doing to me? I’ve been here for over 2 hours now. I was settled in about 20 minutes – but so far, Marnie’s tried about a dozen dresses. She’s impossible! Each time she likes the colour or style, she starts a run through of how it will look with her lingerie, so we need to have a 15 minute discussion about her bra – then it’s panty style and …aaaarrgghhh … she’s driving me mad!’.
Finally Maria surfaced for air from her tirade. Des laughed softly – it was just as he expected.
‘Oh yes – it’s ok for you to laugh – you might have had a bloody awful morning waffling on to total dickheads – but I’d swap any day!’. Des felt it was time he showed a little sympathy.
‘I’ll happily swap. You come here and talk bollocks and I’ll go there and discuss Marnie’s lingerie and see how she looks in gorgeous gowns. Mmmm.’
Maria relaxed. ‘Sorry, I had to get that out of my system. And you’re right – she looks terrific every time she comes out. But how can I get her out of here?’.
Des thought for a minute.
‘Why don’t you help her out? There’s a shop just down the road that sells all sorts of lingerie – Agent Provocateur, Victoria’s Secret – all sorts. Pop in there and get the stuff she wants – my gift – I’ll call ahead and tell them to put it on my card. Oh – and something for yourself too.’ Maria giggled —
Hmm … On condition you get to check the goods?’
Des laughed ‘Don’t tempt me – you know me far too well. But no – like everything else this weekend, no pressure at all – enjoy it!’.
At that point, an attractive woman who Des knew from previous conferences approached him. He was sure she fancied some extra-curricular fun, and at times he had been very tempted – but not right now.
‘I have to go’, he said to Maria, ‘I’m being approached by a predatory female.’
Maria giggled at the other end of the phone, and whispered:
‘Just don’t think about last night will you. Both of us, naked, playing with ourselves – and now I’m off to buy the sexiest undies ever created – try not to think of us both dressed in those’.
‘You sod’, he whispered in reply, ‘I’ve got a bloody hard on now.’ And indeed he had- a rather too obvious one.
‘Bye for now,’ giggled Maria, ‘and whatever you do – don’t go wasting it’.
Des arrived back at the flat just before 5. He was surprised, initially, that Marnie and Maria were not there – surely not still shopping – however, a brief note on the table clarified the situation – ‘On the beach, having picnic, come join us’. It made sense. It was a gorgeous evening, still warm, and the dunes would protect them from any cooling sea breezes. Stopping only to change into a t-shirt and shorts, he set off.
Within 5 minutes, he spotted Maria waving, and walked over to her. ‘Come on’, she said, and he proceeded to follow her away from the front of the sandbanks, towards a more secluded area. As he arrived, he saw Marnie, wearing a sarong, with, presumably, a bikini underneath. Once again, he felt the familiar tremor that preceded any meeting with Marnie.
He walked down casually, ‘Had a good day?’. Marnie smiled and opened her mouth to reply.
‘Yes, she has, and no, I’ve not!’ said Maria. His eyes met Marnie’s and he was rewarded with a flicker of joy and a smile crossing her face. By now, Maria was removing her top, to reveal a bikini top beneath. Des couldn’t help but notice the swelling flesh of her breasts, as she stretched upwards. Then she removed the shorts. No thong, just brief, string bikini bottoms, matching the top.
She sat down on the sand and looked first at Marnie, then at Des.
‘Well – are you going to get some sun to you, or am I going to be the only one showing skin?’.
Marnie smiled and a flicker of apprehension crossed her eyes. Des wondered which way she was going to go. He, of course, had no problem with taking his top off, and Marnie seemed to come to a sudden decision. She undid the top of the sarong, to reveal a very staid one-piece swimming costume.
All of a sudden, Des’s mind did a quick flip back to some of the first pictures he had ever seen of her – stripping from a blue bikini, and suddenly the erotic bond between them was forged even more strongly. Maria looked on, then leaned to Des and mumbled, in a stage whisper:
‘She has a rare talent – she knows exactly what you’re thinking.’
Des knew she was right, and as he looked, Marnie flushed and a shy smile crossed her lips. She did not avoid his eye though, welcoming his thought, and glad that, while he still had those pictures in his mind, he did not openly leer at her now, enclosed in the single sheath of material.
They whiled away a pleasant, albeit brief time on the beach, chatting and relaxing. Des feigned interest in the ball gowns they had acquired, while openly admitting that he had absolutely no idea what Maria’s short, sequinned dress with a long sheer skirt would actually look like – however, words like ‘sheer’ and ‘sheath dress’ always appealed – and the colour, apparently described as ‘nude’ appealed even more – though he rather feared for his reputation if it was anything like the picture he had in his head.
Marnie’s choice, likewise, left him bemused – apparently it was named ‘Angel Forever’ – they laughed at the name, though Des said it seemed appropriate. Apparently, it was in silver, with embroidery, and had a high neckline. Although it sounded less revealing than Maria’s choice (and, as Des thought, the words used by designers meant very little in real terms), the shape was also described as ‘sheath’.
All of their enthusiasm, however, was lost on Des. Until he saw the outfits, he would have no idea what to expect. He also had to admit to feeling very apprehensive about the forthcoming evening. He disliked these events anyway, and it was quite a risk to turn up with not one, but two beautiful girls on his arm.
The event was due to start at 8.30, so by quarter to six, they were heading back to the flat. They didn’t need to leave until 8.15 – he wanted his arrival to be seen by plenty of people, so to arrive on the dot was unnecessary – any time between 8.45 and 9.15 would be good enough, so they had almost 3 hours – that should be enough.
On their return to the flat, the slow pace of the day suddenly changed. It was agreed that Marnie should shower first, as she would probably be the longest on preparation. Maria would follow her, and finally Des, who would probably be ready within half an hour.
Thus planned, the two girls started to prepare. While Marnie showered, Des settled down in front of the TV, catching up on news and sports, and Maria busied herself in the bedroom, presumably laying out gowns etc.
Des saw little of them, but heard the muffled tones of their conversations, ranging from clearly focused discussions on their appearance, to giggling and laughter at some unknown joke, and on to urgent low whispering, which had all the features of plotting.
Maria showered and disappeared back into the bedroom, leaving Des time to hop in and have a quick scrub down and hair wash.
At 7.45, Des dragged himself away from the European Champions League football match. Standing at the bedroom door, he raised his voice: ‘I’m going to change now – we want to leave in about half an hour or so.’
‘OK’, came the reply.
For the event, he had bought an Armani dinner suit, which he had ensured was correctly fitted and looked incredibly stylish. As he stood , admiring himself in the mirror, he did as so many men do, and imagined himself as a James Bond type character – suave, chic – the ultimate babe magnet! He smiled at the absurdity of his thought, but couldn’t resist picking up his tumbler of water and posing, raising a glass to himself.
At that moment, he heard a raised voice from the bedroom: ‘Ready?’
‘Well – I’m still naked, but I’m as ready as I ever will be’.
The door handle turned slowly before opening fully, allowing Maria to enter the room. She was stunning. Her gown was superbly fitted, and glistened with sequins and crystals. It was one of those gravity defying creations with no shoulder straps – a miracle Des had often pondered – and was cut low to the back.
At her upper thigh, the opaque material suddenly stopped, giving way to a translucent veil, still sparkling, which covered her legs to the floor, except when the split, up to her thigh, exposed a glorious, stockinged leg.
It was sexy, but still covered the essentials, and the occasional flash of leg was more alluring than any mini skirt he had ever seen. Her make up and radiant hair added to the effect – a proud, sexy young woman who knew her own charms, and would share them with whoever she chose – but whoever it was, she knew, was receiving a special gift – not something that was shared with many.
‘Seen enough?’ she asked. ‘I chose this in about ten minutes. Are you ready for the dress which took three hours before it got the expert’s approval?’.
Des nodded – he was beyond speech. Maria shimmered to the door and opened it. There was a pause, and then Marnie glided out. Unlike Maria, who really wouldn’t have cared what he thought – she liked it, and that was that – Marnie looked him straight in the eye – and he held that gaze before sliding down to the magnificent dress which she had chosen.
Marnie’s dress was entirely different – a full length sheath of heavily embroidered material. Her arms were bear, and the neckline high – as modest as was really possible. The back was also high – leading Des to conjecture as to what might lie beneath. Unlike Maria, whose dress made underwear an unlikely option, Marnie could be wearing anything, and Des found this infinitely sexier – not that he believed he would get to learn what was underneath, but because it left room for his rampant imagination to run wild.
The gown reached right to the floor, and this time, the underskirt ran to the ankle, and was covered by the sheer, embroidered overskirt. The shimmering gold in designs reminiscent of William Morris, gave the entire outfit a rich, sumptuous look, and the cling of the dress offered a certainty that what lay beneath was stunning, but did not invite leers.
This was a lady who rarely shared her favours – she wanted to be left alone, except by those few who were allowed intimacy. Other than her exposed arms (covered to the elbow by gloves), only her face and hair were exposed – her hair tumbling in ringlets around her face, flickering gold highlights as she moved her head to the side. She looked like ..
“‘Angel Forever’, it’s called”, interjected Maria – ‘Angel … like fuck!’.
The spell was broken – they all laughed – but perhaps Maria was right – if there were such things as angels, thought Des, this is what they would look like.
‘OK, let’s get going’, said Des – he offered his left arm to Maria and hhis right to Marnie, and the three swept out arm in arm – and I anyone was watching, they might be forgiven for thinking that they were in Hollywood – not a remote corner of South Wales.
Having parked, the ladies checked their faces in tiny compact mirrors, fussed a little, checked each other for any imperfections and alighted from the car, smoothing their dresses and attracting immediate glances from those nearby. It was going to be that sort of evening.
As they approached the hall, there were a number of rather stuffy academics standing on the steps. Some were known to Des, and he knew they disapproved of him and his point blank refusal to simply comply with the establishment.
He knew that this night would simply further their prejudices, but simply didn’t care. As they mounted the steps, he nodded to some of them, allowing himself an amused grin as their curt nods changed to open gawping as they took in his harem (which is precisely how they would later report it as envy replaced lechery).
At the top of the steps, they strolled into a long, narrow corridor, from which three doors opened on to the main ballroom. This was a high, richly decorated area, featuring extensive gold and burgundy. The main purpose of this was firstly to allow coats to be deposited — not an issue on a warm evening like this — and to allow guests to stay in the warm when showing invites at the main doors.
There was also a bar, available for those who wanted to sit in peace and quiet away from the main event (probably with newly acquired lovers), and to cater for those wishing to pop outside for a smoke. This held no appeal, so Des, Marnie and Maria headed directly for the ballroom.
The room was spectacular — an enormous chandelier hanging from the ceiling, with wall lighting all around. The light reflecting off the glass droplets started a glistening and twinkling on the two dresses, as light flashed in all directions. The immediate effect was to draw attention — not that anything extra was needed.
All eyes were on Marnie and Maria as they entered — Des didn’t care — happy to take a back seat to the two ladies. The men gazed on, admiring the elegant movement as Marnie entered — ever the model — head held up and barely moving — as if she were on a conveyor belt, gliding across the floor, the light shimmering on her dress, her hips swaying idly — it was almost as if she could stop and strike a pose at any moment. Add to this the silken skin of her arms and unblemished perfection of her face, and she was, in herself, almost hypnotic.
The main problem for most was trying to look at both at the same time. Maria was different — the long floating veil around her legs swaying as she walked, leading many to wonder if it was, indeed, transparent if held out flat rather than in large, draped pleats — and just occasionally, they were rewarded with a glimpse of flesh as her lower leg appeared through the slit — again, many wondered if that slit was only to knee height or further.
Her gait was so different, fluid and relaxed, allowing her to swing her arms a little and sway her hips a lot — it also made sure that her breasts bounced gently, and gave every man present the hope that a wardrobe malfunction might occur at any time — as such, these became a major focus for all present.
Des allowed himself a smug smile — he had seen them in all their glory, and he felt sure that as eyes flickered to him (for no reason other than to see who was accompanying these two visions of perfection), he knew that his look gave away his secret.
As well as the male eyes following them, so did female eyes — many jealous — wishing they could receive the sort of attention being lavished on these two; some thinking to days gone by when they might have had a similar effect; some wondering if their men would be thinking of these two the next time they fucked; all of them thinking about their own sexuality, and considering that bisexuality might just have something to recommend it!
They made their way to a table around the edges of the dance floor and sat down. Maria’s eyes darted around the room, taking in everything — the men in their evening suits — so dull and uniform — as if one suit had been simply been cut to differing sizes — and the women in their ball gowns — many looking old and well worn, as was always likely at these events — most academics were not exactly young! For the most part, velvet seemed to be the choice — dark and heavy, in rich blues, burgundies and emerald greens — and more black than seemed reasonable.
In contrast to Maria’s darting eyes, Marnie took in the scene more benignly. She gazed at the room, focusing on no-one, her head turning slowly until it returned to Des, at which point she looked up at him and met his eyes.
‘Drinks’, said Des. ‘What do you fancy?’.
‘White wine for me’, said Maria. ‘White wine and soda, please’, breathed Marnie. He had barely heard her speak up to now, but was determined not to make a big deal of it. He smiled at her, acknowledging that this was another little sign of trust, and turned to visit the bar.
The plan for the evening was simple — drink and dance. Des didn’t drink and avoided dancing whenever he could — indeed, given the choice, he would never have visited an event like this. However, he could see the two ladies were set for a great evening, so that’s what he wanted to give them — no moans about the awful music, the showing off of the couples who had made ballroom dancing an alternative to sex in their lives, not even about what a waste of money the whole event was — just let them enjoy in their own way.
Later, a band would play and the lights would turn to the dance floor — now, however, they were in the full glow of the chandelier. This meant plenty of eyes on them, and as he returned with drinks, he noticed that the chair of the conference had decided to introduce himself to Marnie and Maria. He was full of smiles and more animated than Des had ever seen him. As he talked, one of his colleagues, a younger academic came to join him, and the two of them proceeded to talk in an over-animated, almost flirtatious manner.
The ladies nodded politely and smiled in the right place, while apparently humouring them, and in due course, the more senior of the two men was joined by his wife, who clearly made the point that he had been too long with these two non-academic guests, and he had other responsibilities as the host. They walked away, in the direction of Des, and as they walked past him, he couldn’t resist interrupting their intense discussion — ”Brian — you’ve done a lovely job here — well done.’
He looked away from his wife: ‘Oh ..yes ..Des ..thanks’.
‘I see you met my two guests — sorry I had to have the extra ticket, but they do everything together — I had no choice’.
Brian looked up, seeing if Des was inferring what he was implying. Des’s steady gaze and the grin that played around his lips might well have confirmed his initial thought.
Des glanced across to Brian’s frumpy wife in the gown she had worn to half a dozen events so far this year in pursuit of her husband’s career — but in that moment, she would have given every title that his academic arse-licking had achieved to be one of those two beautiful girls — and both she and her husband knew that one click of Des’s fingers and she would have swapped places or joined their group at a moment’s notice.
The fleeting moment passed and all her inhibitions and social conditioning returned.
‘Brian, come on, we have more important things to do’. She hustled him away, laying down the law at every step in a fury of indignation and a jealousy to which she could never admit.
Des turned back to the table, seeing that Brian’s younger colleague was still there, talking animatedly to Maria about the joys and pitfalls of academic life, while she nodded politely and smiled in the right places, making it difficult to know if she was welcoming the attention or not. Marnie, meanwhile, looked across at Des, her eyes now begging him to return before she was similarly distracted. He headed over to her.
The evening passed as might have been expected. The three of them rarely had time to talk, as people came over to chat with Des and try to score academic points, about which he couldn’t care less.
Maria was frequently asked to dance, and generally accepted the invitations, twirling around the floor, making the lace tier of her dress glitter in the light as it swirled and shimmered, occasionally revealing her leg above the knee as she moved with grace and elegance. On more than one occasion, the lecture room lotharios must have felt they had a chance of more than a dance, but each time they made a move, Maria smiled and rebuffed them in a manner calculated to ensure compliance without offence.
Marnie received many invitations to dance, but refused with a casual shake of the head, even though Des told her she should go if she wanted to. She seemed happy to sit with him and listen to the pointless tittle tattle of academics. Each time he tried to engage her in conversation, some new distraction cropped up, and Des felt she must have been having an utterly miserable evening, though she gave no sign of it whatsoever.
Just after midnight, Maria came over after yet another dance.
‘I’m tired and sick to death of being hit on. Can we go yet?’
‘Of course’, said Des, standing up and taking Marnie’s arm as she stood, ‘I thought you were enjoying the attention.’
‘I was’, smiled Maria, ‘but it gets boring after a while, especially as they get more drunk and more pushy. I want to get back to the flat and get to bed. I need sleep’.
They all stood up, and made their way to the doors, followed by many envious eyes.
‘Oh, Maria, leaving so soon?’. Des turned to see one of Maria’s many dance partners. ‘We’re going on to a club — something a bit more lively – how about it? I’ll sort out a taxi to get you back.’ He looked at Des almost challengingly.
‘No thanks’, said Maria, ‘I’ve had enough for one night’.
However, he wasn’t about to take no for an answer.
‘Come on, it’ll be fun, maybe a party after.’
He grabbed Maria’s arm. Des looked on with interest, not wishing to upset Maria by implying that she couldn’t take care of herself, but ready to intercede if necessary.
As her hopeful suitor held her arm, Maria turned to him, smiling — the sort of smile a spider might give before eating a fly. She placed a hand on his waist and moved her face in close to his. Getting close to his ear, she whispered, that grin still playing around her lips.
He smiled too, a dark, lascivious smile. Just as she pulled away, she brought her knee up sharply and squarely into his balls. As he collapsed to the floor, she turned, still smiling sweetly and said, ‘Let’s go!’
They walked to the car, giggling, and sat comfortably, giving full reign to their laughter.
‘So what did you say to him?’ — Des had to know.
‘Oh — I told him if I went with him, I would fuck him till his brain exploded and his cock would be fit for nothing for a week. Then I asked if that was what he wanted. Obviously, he said yes, so I kneed him in the balls — and then his brain exploded, and he’ll be fit for nothing for at least a week.’
The three of us were helpless with laughter (‘Oh shit, I’ve weed myself’, said Maria at one point), and we drove merrily away before any of the stuffier individuals could give chase moaning about assault and behaviour unbecoming a lady.
During the drive, the mirth gradually subsided, and a new atmosphere overcame them. They all knew that getting back to the flat was not a simple matter of going to bed and sleeping. The evening was far from over.
Des didn’t dare to hope — whatever happened was entirely in the hands of the two girls — as they had been ever since they arrived.
Checking his mirror, he saw Maria resting her head on Marnie’s shoulder. Clearly, she was tired, but the real question was what that meant. Des hardly dared to think that Marnie, who so far had been restrained, almost inhibited or shy, would suddenly go wild, but the chance to spend some time alone with her would be wonderful. He imagined himself cuddling up to her on the sofa, maybe a kiss before he went to bed with a raging hard on. Yet Maria had hinted at so much more, and she knew Marnie so much better. All he could do was to play it by ear.
As they got back, Maria started from her doze, sitting up bleary eyed and rather vacant. They made their way into the flat, and despite Des’s suggestion of coffee, Maria was happy with just a glass of water to take to bed. Having made use of the bathroom, she and Marnie went to the bedroom. Des thought for a moment, wondering if this was, indeed, the end of the evening, and got himself a glass of fruit juice from the fridge, before sitting down and putting the CD player on quietly in the background.
The sound of Peter Gabriel’s vocals washed over him as he closed his eyes and put his head back, silently moving his lips to the lyrics of ‘In Your Eyes’.
Striptease
He was on the verge of drifting off, when he was brought out of his reverie by the quiet closing of the bedroom door. Marnie had returned — and that was not the only surprise — she was still wearing her gown and all that went with it, and holding a CD in her hand. Des looked up and smiled:
‘I didn’t expect you’.
She raised her finger to her lips in a shushing gesture, and looked him straight in the eye.
Then, she came to him across the room and bent forward, kissing him long and hard on the lips. After his initial shock, he returned the kiss with interest, but as her soft, moist lips worked on his, and her tongue slid over his teeth, he started to pull her towards him.
She pushed him back, holding out the flat of her hand, indicating that he should stay where he was. He watched, amazed and amused as she walked to the CD player, ejected his selection, and put in a CD of her own.
It was at this point that he realised how right he had been — there had, indeed been a plan, and this was Marnie’s part in it — and although he might feel rather like a marionette, he didn’t care — all that interested him was what happened next.
Before playing the CD, Marnie came over to him, and sat down. She leaned in close to him and whispered:
‘Stay where you are, don’t say anything and don’t move from this seat. If you do, I stop.’
Stop what, he wondered — there was nothing to stop as yet. She leaned forward and kissed him again — long and deep — but broke away before he was ready, a smile playing on her lips.
‘This is for you, and only you — a one shot deal, never happened before, and will never happen again. Enjoy it — make me happy.’
Marnie glided round to the CD player and pressed ‘play’. Des recognised the song immediately — the heavy blues/rock sound of Joe Bonamasa — Feelin’ Good — the stunning update of Nina Simone’s classic. For so long, Des had adored the song, but always held the belief that it would be an awesome song to strip to!
Marnie had moved in front of him, and was swaying her hips — a private dance for him. She ran her hands over the sides of her body in an erotic gesture, synchronised to the sensual sounds of the music. Her hands over her head, she swung her hips round in circles, moving her head in time, her hair shaking loose around her face.
She turned away from him, sliding her gloved hands down, across her buttocks, spreading her legs apart and sliding her hands down, demonstrating her flexibility, as she bent forward, presenting her backside to him, as the fabric of the dress tightened around its contours.
Steadily and smoothly, she stood upright, running her hands through her hair, and turning to offer a profile view, as she stretched up, allowing him to enjoy her perfectly proportioned figure. Facing him again, she leaned forward, holding his eye, challenging him to stare at her body rather than her face.
Des was utterly mesmerised, wondering where this was leading, not daring to think of it as anything more than a private dance to one of his favourite pieces of music, and not wanting the song to end. As he gazed, Marnie flexed her wrist upwards, and caught the fingers of her left glove in her right hand. She gently tugged each finger loose, before sliding it off her hand and arm.
She toyed with the glove, stretching it between her fingers, running it around her neck and over her shoulder, before placing it neatly and gently on the table.
She turned her back to Des, this time raising her hands over her head, so Des could watch her loosen each finger above her head, while taking her swaying buttocks. Again she removed the glove, and it almost seemed as if the exposure of her arms alone increased the erotic tension. Once again, she moved to the table and laid the glove gently with its partner.
To this point, the dance had been sensual and her movements like those of a free spirit, totally in tune with herself and almost inward looking, as if she was dancing for a mirror (as she no doubt had to prepare this carefully choreographed routine). The removal of the gloves marked a change in step, from sensual to sexual.
Her hands slid up her body again, but this time, rather than remaining to her sides, they stopped at her breasts, and moved round to caress them lovingly, squeezing gently and pushing them together.
It seemed to Des, that although this might still remain an introverted dance – perhaps of self-arousal, she was now focusing on her audience, and revelling in their rapt attention. Moving from her breasts, her hands travelled to her thighs. She was unable to stimulate herself through the material, but pressed her hands into her crotch, maybe causing the garment touching her to rub gently, bring her greater pleasure.
Des could feel his hardness as he watched the gyrations of this fully dressed, yet erotically charged muse, and once again asked himself the question — where was this leading? The song would end all too soon, and what then?
Turning her back to him, Marnie’s hand reached up behind her to the zip on her dress. Slowly, with attention to every fractional movement, she slid the zip all the way down, exposing her back, the smooth, lightly tanned skin only broken by the narrow, red strap of her bra. She turned again, sliding one arm, with grace and fluidity out of the dress, followed by the other.
The simple fact that she had achieved this, without looking as if she was undressing for a shower was a clear demonstration of her natural athleticism. She held the dress across her breasts, still swaying, closing her eyes in ecstasy as she again presented her back to him. She allowed the dress to fall, knowing that her full hips would prevent it from descending to the floor sooner than was appropriate.
She raised her arms over her head, her hips switching from side to side, and allowed her hands to fall to her head, running through her hair again, before descending to her breasts. Now, Des knew, she could feel their contours more easily, probably finding her nipples to tease through the bra, which Des could now see was red with a black lace trim.
Her hands now fell to her waist, and with a gentle nudge, she slipped the dress over her hips, and slipped it down her legs, revealing a matching set of underwear — high leg panties — red satin with black lace trim, and complemented with stockings and suspender belt.
As she bent forward, the material of her panties became taut, showing the perfection of her backside — no hint of cellulite, but not wasted and boyish as seems to be the modern trend. As she bent further, Des could see the lips of her private parts, and conjectured whether she would be shaven or trimmed — whichever it was, there was no hint of hair against the black lace.
The dress was off, and she turned to face him, dressed in matching lingerie, and black high heeled shoes — striking a model pose as the song finished, pushing her hipto the side, leaning forward. As she did, Des began to move. Immediately she raised a finger to her lips indicating that he should be silent, and showed him the palm of hand — stay where you are! The next piece of music started: heavy, raunchy chords, a different mood again, as her hips flicked vigorously side to side. As the lyrics began, it was another song he instantly recognised:
‘I don’t want you to be no slave
I don’t want you to work all day
But I want you to be true
And I just wanna …’
Suddenly, he was aware of the implication of the choice — and the fact that it was barely three minutes long!
She moved to him, using her best catwalk style, standing directly in front of him, legs straddling his knees. Her hips rotated before she turned through 180 degrees, presenting her satin covered ass to him, sliding her hands down her legs, bending forward, stretching the material tight, offering a close up of what he had so far only seen from a distance.
She straightened up , moving away from him, placing foot in front of foot, before spinning to face him. Her hands reached up behind her back, unclipping her bra, and moving quickly round to hold it across her breasts as the straps fell down her shoulders and the detached clip fell to either side.
Des was aware now of his breathing, rapid and shallow; his penis rigid against his belly; his stomach fluttering and knotted in anticipation.
Turning away from him, she slid the bra off her arms, and dropped it to the floor. Once again her hands caressed her flesh, this time rising to her breasts, and, although he could not see clearly, he was certain she was teasing her nipples to ensure they were fully proud and erect.
Folding her arms across her breasts, she turned again, and walked towards him. Once again, standing close, she manoeuvred one arm to cover both breasts, and raised her leg, placing it next to him on the seat.
Single handed, she bent forward, so near that he could feel her breath on him, and unfastened her shoe. Lifting her foot out, she replaced the stockinged foot on the floor, before raising the other leg and repeating the process. She turned again, arms to her side and walked away from him. Stopping, she placed a hand on each thigh, and continued the bump and grind with her hips.
Using both hands, she unclipped the stockings from the suspender belt. Placing her leg out to the side, and stretching as far as possible, as if exercising, she ran her hands down, sliding off the stocking. He was treated to a fleeting glimpse of the underside of her breast — and was that a flash of nipple?
She stood up again, sliding the other stockinged foot across the floor, again, removing the stocking, leaving nothing but the red and black panties.
Once again, she turned, a smile on her face, and walked to him, breasts still covered. As she reached him, she stopped directly between his feet, and bent forward, placing each hand behind his head as she did so, letting her breasts fall free, but so near that he could not see them clearly.
Gently she pulled him to her, placing his face directly between her breasts, so he could feel their swollen, silky smooth warmth on his cheeks. Again, she stood, turning around in one fluid movement, offering a full view of her body, but so fleeting that it was impossible to register any detail.
Remaining close, she hooked her fingers into the sides of her panties, bending as she slid them down her thighs and legs, offering him a close-up, unrestricted view of her most intimate parts — delicate, as a budding flower, moist and ready for what was to follow. Now totally naked, Des was once again aware of the music, and the final lyrics:
‘I don’t want you sad and blue,
And I just wanna make love to you.
…Love to you…
…Love to you…Ooooohhooh…
…Yeah, love to you…Ooooh.
…Love to you…’
His other ‘perfect strip’ song — Nina Simone — he had told her so many times, and she had done this for him, and him alone.
As the last chord sounded, she rolled to the floor, again slipping directly into a model pose — supported on one elbow, lying on her side, with one knee raised while the other stretched along the floor. She was exposing herself to him completely — utterly beautiful, beyond words or description — his muse, his Aphrodite in her full perfection as he gazed on, rendered mute by the scene and the performance as a whole.
She held the pose, allowing Des to take in every detail. She seemed confident, but Des was aware that this was not necessarily so. For so many years of online chatting, they had shared intimacies, and he knew full well that she had found it incredibly difficult to simply be herself, which was all he had ever wanted. Now, after years of secrets and hiding, at times even outright deceit, here she was, making a statement — ‘this is me ..all of me.. and it’s all yours — no hiding, everything exposed — physically and psychologically’.
Just as suddenly, the spell was broken by a simple smile. They held each other’s eyes, smiling, happy — almost joyful as the moment which both had so desired approached rapidly. Marnie sat up, then moved to her knees and shuffled across the floor to Des. As she reached him, she leaned in and whispered into his ear:
‘Stay still and enjoy’.
Oddly, Des had never imagined her as controlling, but if this was what she wanted — so be it. Maybe this was her way of protecting herself. So long as she was in charge, nothing bad could happen.
She moved in front of him, and placed her lips firmly upon his. He responded fervently, wanting to embrace her, but remembering her request. He opened his mouth to allow their tongues to do battle, feeling her explore his mouth, before forcing her back and tracing along her teeth. She responded in the same way, and he enjoyed playfully nibbling her, then sucking her tongue into his mouth.
Each was playing with the other. Games, fun — sexy fun — suggestive fun — humorous, making both giggle — the trusting kiss of people who have known each other for many years and are determined to savour every second.
Suddenly, Marnie pulled back, still smiling. Looking him in the eye, she unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it from the waistband of his trousers and leaning forward to kiss his chest and trace lines with her tongue — neck to nipple, nipple to nipple, nipple to navel — sucking gently on his nipples and descending low to run her tongue along his waistband.
It was so tantalising, and he knew she must be able to feel his rock hard erection as her breasts pressed into his crotch. Once again, she leaned back, this time pulling him forward so she could slide the shirt off his shoulders.
Realising the potentially ludicrous situation which was developing, Des took the chance to lean round and remove his socks — few things can be more absurd than a man naked, apart from socks – and then responded to her gentle pressure to lean back again.
She undid the fastening and zip on his trousers, almost impatiently now in comparison to the measured build up, hooked her fingers into the waistbands of both trousers and shorts and pulled them down in a smooth, fluid movement.
Had Des not been aware of her limited sex life back home, which she had told him (and he believed) had been extremely sparse since the betrayal of a former lover, he would have thought her well-practised, almost like a lap dancer. He believed, however, that it was just this — practice — and it had made her perfect, their synergy apparent in every movement.
Pulling his remaining clothes over his feet, she looked up and smiled at him, meeting his eyes, before looking down to his rigid penis, which, despite feeling a foot long to him, remained at its usual eight inches — and incredibly — almost painfully hard.
She raised herself once again, kissing him on the lips, her breasts firm and nipples erect as she leaned her body against his. Now she had left his arms free to pass around her, embracing her gently, stroking the firm flesh of her back and running up and down her spine from neck to the cleft of her buttocks. He was desperate to touch her sexually, to feel her breasts and buttocks, slide his hand between her legs and slip a finger gently into the moist warmth between them, but he knew this was her show, and rushing would not be right. Only with patience would come perfection.
Once again she slid down his body, her tongue leaving a moist trail down his chest and stomach. Her hand moved round, gently touching his manhood before guiding it into her mouth. The first touch of her warm lips and tongue almost made him ejaculate — only age and restraint making him withhold.
Cupping his balls gently in her hands, occasionally applying gentle pressure as her mouth worked up and down his shaft, tongue lapping around his glans, making it wet and, as she withdrew, glistening slightly in the soft light. Still she wasn’t finished, licking from tip to base, making him desperate for her in a way which he had never felt before.
Finally, this desperation broke the spell which had enchanted him, and leaning forward, he gently lifted her by the shoulders, manoeuvring her onto the sofa beside him. Now, while his hands explored her body freely, he finally cupped and held her breasts, while she stroked him gently.
He pulled her nipples gently, breaking their kiss occasionally to gaze at the deep pink areola and their outstanding central feature, eventually moving his mouth to cover each nipple in turn, drawing them in, encircling them with his tongue, biting gently but firmly, making her shiver as goosebumps rose on her body.
As his hand slid between her thighs, she parted her legs, welcoming his touch as his middle finger slipped easily between her labia, meeting the hard nub of her clitoris and making her gasp as her breathing deepened and became more rapid. Ignoring the temptation to slip his finger into her vagina, he continued to tease, stroking, tapping and rubbing as his fingers parted her swollen lips.
As she had moved down his body, so he did to her. First wriggling his tongue in her navel, then moving down, licking the inside of her thighs, teasing her and making her moan as she prepared herself for his final move.
Several times he worked his tongue around her inner thighs and lower stomach until an impatient grunt made him decide it was time to move to her most sensitive parts.
He licked greedily, lapping her juices and becoming light headed with her scent. Placing his hands under her legs, he raised them until her feet were on the sofa, exposing her completely to his attention. As he licked her clitoris, he inserted first one finger, the two into her vagina, pressing into the front wall, feeling and hearing the slick lubricant which she was now producing copiously and mixing with his saliva.
His hands moved around to her buttocks, grabbing them firmly, his fingers touching soft skin and spreading her wide. She writhed and arched her back as the first orgasm overcame her. Des almost smiled, knowing that he had always used his tongue skilfully, and delighted that his ability had not let him down on this occasion.
Marnie returned her feet to the floor as Des worked his way up her body again, stopping to feast on her breasts once more before returning to her mouth. She tasted her own personal emanations on his tongue, his lips, and found herself revelling in it for the first time. A taste and scent she had never experienced before except on her own fingers — her previous lovers having cared little for her own pleasure and wishing only to receive, rather than give oral stimulus.
Now she felt his erection nudging at her sex, parting her labia, though fractionally missing the entrance which it sought. Her hand fell from his back, passing over his buttocks before moving round to guide him inside her.
He entered her smoothly, sliding in to his full length, and for a brief while stayed there, motionless before beginning slow, long thrusts. None of the urgency of so many first time lovers, none of the need to satisfy himself first and disregard her pleasure which she had so often experienced.
She might have thought him unenthusiastic, but knew, without doubt, that what she was experiencing was the perfect union of their bodies and minds and the desire that this union should be everything they had both hoped for and expected.
As he thrusted, her pleasure increased again, still sensitive after her first orgasm, and she realised that she was about to climax for a second time. She abandoned herself to her urges, her vagina squeezing rhythmically on him, squeezing and releasing as more fluid eased his motion within her.
Then, suddenly, he stopped and withdrew. She wondered if he had finished and she simply hadn’t noticed, being too intent on her own release, but soon realised she was wrong. He was reclining back on the floor, drawing her on top of him, positioning her and entering her with no need for assistance this time. She placed her hands on his chest and began to slide up and down, withdrawing until he almost fell out before sliding down to feel him deep within her.