1
Sassy, irreverent and great fun, the two women were of an age, and not inconsiderable means, to pursue pleasure wherever it could be found. Their lives were now uncomplicated by the dragging, dutiful claims of husbands or lovers; the demands of casual acquaintances or those who continued to seek their company and have them feel obligated to their only too well-rehearsed ways.
Such men usually did so on their own terms. But Miranda and Imogen were no longer taken in by such wiles. They had chosen to set their own course in such matters; they sought to exercise control and not to be controlled.
The wheels of fortune had turned full circle, and they were now in control of what happened, even in or out of their beds. Love lives were pursued, enjoyed and then ended. They weren’t tramps or ‘wrinkly sluts’, as one man had railed at Miranda when she had summarily ended a tempestuous week in his company; the joys of snorkelling, swimming and sunbathing; and, while that relationship had endured, selfishly rutting in her exotic cabin close to the palm-fringed shores of a Maldives resort.
To have heard that from a Frenchman had been a bit rich; but she had taken it in her stride. Imogen had been her rock at such a time. She had drawn her own pleasure from the company of a man who had looked upon their liaisons through the same eyes as she had done. It was to be energetically pleasurable but of short duration. What happened several degrees of longitude away from home, and familiar surroundings, gave them freedom, and why not? They had lived one life; now they intended to live out quite another and enjoy themselves in the process. The rules of the game were for them to set, no one else.
The times shared had been fun and with no strings for the two of them; the holiday arrangements then, as now, only too purposeful if they met like-minded people…men. But you never could be sure of what might await you until the scales fell from your eyes about those you associated with. They each gave the other space to pursue, or to be pursued by, a man and if suitable ‘quarry’…as they often quipped…came into their sights. It was not unknown for them to glory in a ‘one for two’ arrangement if the object of their attention…their lust for him…meant that different rules applied.
⁕
Such a man, one Stephen Yardley, now sat at their table and between them, vying for their attention and sharing in a lively conversation that had begun when they had net at an impromptu beach volleyball event earlier in the day, their first in a Seychelles beach resort; the wooded promontories and golden sands of the bay as exotic as they had ever known, and enjoyed, in favoured trips to these parts of the world.
Exercise of that kind, leaving their tanned skins glistening with perspiration…not sweat… had seen them, and others in their informal group, racing off into the sea to cool off. Doing that did not settle agile minds and what they had seen could be discovered in each other. Young and svelte they might no longer be, but they each possessed grace, and only too lively imaginations; their sotto voce exchanges bordering on the flirtatious, each of them disconcerted that one man was only too interested in both of them.
This is a change, don’t you think? That was the thought to be read in the look that Miranda gave Imogen. She did so in disbelief, as Stephen leant back in his chair and sought to gain a waiter’s attention.
‘Excuse us for a moment, Stephen, would you?’ The directness of gaze on her travelling companion made it clear that she should follow her out into the warmth of the night air. ‘Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing, Imogen?’
Imogen put her hands on Miranda’s shoulders, glanced back at Stephen, then grinned at her.
‘Darling…I’m pinching myself and trying not to think that we may…and for a first time…have met someone who wants to fuck us both…sorry for the lingo, but it fits. He’s alone and he’s here. Stephen’s like no one else we’ve met on these little diversions of ours. He’s only too rich and yet he’s available. It won’t have escaped your notice, but we’ve already spent a great deal of time with him…the man with those wonderful hungry eyes. He’s had that look for us all evening…’
‘Yes, but…but…’ Miranda stammered, turning to look at him for an instant, ‘we’ve never been in the same room when we’re with our ‘quarry’…have we?’
‘No, and that’s what makes this so wonderfully new and special. I’m already taken by the novelty of the idea that he’s interested equally in both of us….which makes this all the more unreal…and rare…only too novel, in our case.’
‘True…’
Imogen looked at the man once more. Just talking about it with Miranda aroused the ache of longing and inflamed a sense of anticipation that an adventure lay before them.
‘Best of all…if that’s possible…we’ve seen today what he can bring to us…raging good looks even with that unshaven stubbly face…but his grey hair is neat and cut so well. His chest hair’s something new for both of us…and he’s in shape…lean and so very hungry…if those wonderful eyes of his on us are anything to go by…’
She wondered how it could be endured and for them not to succumb and so quickly. Stephen, she knew from a moments press of his leg to her thigh as they ate dinner, ached for them; a soft word, or a moment’s touch, enough to reveal what was at work in him. He seemed to be a man of deeds and not words; unbothered by convention; a man, they might yet discover, who shared their wild and reckless mood.
‘Stop…stop!’ Imogen laughed. ‘You’ve persuaded me!’
‘We’ll play it slow, for now, and see if he really can handle the two of us. Perhaps with our own brand of guidance, and undoubted enthusiasm, he will be able to. We have a week to get through, after all…so let’s not waste a minute of it.’
Imogen nodded; could not help but chuckle at Miranda’s calm appraisal of the situation they faced. She looked away and caught a fleeting glance from Stephen as someone on their table now sought to engage him in conversation. She too made no secret of having taken to the man.
Miranda clenched Imogen’s arm to draw her attention once more. ‘Best we get back to the table. First nights set the scene for all that follows on trips like these…’
‘Don’t I just know that!’ Imogen said bitterly. ‘I’m not going through that again…hook up with a waster.’
‘You won’t. We’ll be together with Stephen. Two into one will go…or is it one for two?’
Imogen liked her friend’s turn of phrase. ‘So, we’ll be winging it for a while and for the first time?’
‘Yes…perhaps he’ll take us to heaven and back while we’re about it…winging and swinging. I just hope he’s got the energy…he has the will…saw that in his beach shorts.’
Imogen suppressed giggly laughter. ‘You’re impossible!’
‘No…I’m just being just practical and know what I like.’ Miranda guided her friend back to their table and met Stephen’s welcoming smile and questioning look upon them.
Yes, it was focused on them both.
2
Stephen talked easily with the other guests seated at the table, but his mind soon wandered to the two women that had engaged him throughout their dinner, thus far. It was more than a coincidence that they had been seated on either side of him. He’d slipped the Maitre d’Hotel a note, of some generosity, to make sure that their company was to continue into the evening, after pre-dinner drinks on the terrace and as the heavens above revealed the glory of a truly magnificent night sky.
An exciting day had seen them frolicking on the beach and making it no secret of what they would all bring to whatever moments of shared fun that could be devised, if not seduced from them. His holiday here was not to be constrained by thoughts of anyone in his life back home in England. There was no one to have that hold upon him, and he was here to dip his wick and often.
The women he had met certainly occupied his thoughts now. The luxury of the rooms, the views, and fellow residents — they all made it clear that you had wealth behind you to be able to afford a stay here, be it inherited wealth or earned, as his had undoubtedly been.
He looked their way and saw them engaged in conversation. He surmised that he was the subject of their exchanges. The women were engaging and so very different.
One, Miranda, was a studiously managed beauty, her greying hair swept back from her softly lined face that lent some distinction and was enhanced by the glasses that she wore; her soft appraising eyes belying a keen spirit and a bubbly personality. As she had done, during the day, Miranda had tied her hair back into a bun; the knot fastened by a colourful jewelled grip. A necklace of large beads dangling onto her breastbone; the fabric of her dress a kaleidoscope of colours and the neckline finishing, enticingly, at the beginnings of her cleavage. Miranda already aroused a riot of emotions. He’d taken to wondering if her only too bubbly, even overdone, exuberance was a cover for an insecure woman.
Imogen, on the other hand was restrained. He had met a startled look his way, as the two women talked, her slender fingered hands brushing at auburn red hair that he took, in a woman of her age, to have been coloured to match what she had once been blessed with as a younger woman. Her appearance was only too well tended, bestowed by an obsessive exercise regime that leant her a reedy strength that made her wrap around dress, it too decorated in an exotic print of jungle blooms, clothe her body easily. Imogen’s soft voice held an almost narcotic power of its own.
So, he had been seated between a voluptuous woman, who was unashamed of how she was ageing, and another wishing to hold back the inexorable effects that the passing of the years bestowed upon her body. She did that by pursuing a punishing, almost daily, exercise regime.
All this he had been told.
Each, in their own ways had engaged his attention, something in their behaviour during the day, and on first meeting them, revealing to him that their minds were open to fun times. How that was to play out when they were a threesome had yet to be thought through, but he was unfazed by the prospect. He hadn’t made his money while remaining reclusive.
Stephen Yardley worked damn hard and on holiday he cut loose. He’d drawn some comments on his choice of an Indian styled Kurta, a three-quarter length shirt and trousers; also on the leather thong sandals that accompanied them. But his deep tan, and carefully tended grey hair and stubble face had lent him a mysterious grace that served as the perfect disguise for a man who wanted to live it out, and quickly, and to do that with these two engaging women.
With age came experience…at fucking.
♥
‘We could have a drink…or our coffee out on the terrace?’ Miranda suggested, boldly, as she neared the table. She had seen the faraway, almost wistful, look that Stephen had cast their way.
‘That’s a good idea,’ he smiled up at them and seeming to bring his thoughts back to the present. They stepped out into the cool evening air, Stephen choosing a table that offered them some privacy, but not so much that it would appear they were cutting themselves off from the others. ‘This is a new experience for me…’
‘And it is for us too,’ Imogen blurted out.
‘Two of us…to one of you, is what she means,’ Miranda said helpfully, and by way of an explanation.
Stephen called a studiously polite waiter over to them, one that they had ordered pre-dinner cocktails from. Coffee and sweetmeats would soon be with them. ‘Now, where were we?’
‘Two of us…one of you,’ Miranda smiled and holding his appraising glance upon her. ‘Have you ever been there, Stephen?’
‘Oh really, Miranda!’ Imogen whispered. ‘Not so direct!’
‘It’s okay,’ Stephen smiled. He crossed his legs to buy some time. ‘I’ve been there and done it…but the best was with two women on me. I was surprised both times…more so one woman and two men…but both were complicated…even hard work. But…’
‘But they were satisfying,’ Miranda prompted, ignoring Imogen’s sharp intake of breath at her forwardness in talking out the detail so soon. ‘Were they an ego trip for you..?’
The women saw him look away as the waiter came to them. ‘Put it on my room bill, please?’
‘Yes sir…’ the waiter said, ahead of them on this. Stephen scrawled out a signature and looked at them once more.
‘The best was me and two Asian women…when I worked in Singapore…a two week stay. I just fell into doing it that way and it’s not just to massage the male ego…far from it. ‘
‘Who did you play with?’ Imogen asked. Emboldened by how they had so easily fallen into these ways of talking out on a very private matter.
‘It was a young woman…and…and her beautiful mother.’
‘Oh my God…but that’s wild!’ Miranda couldn’t help but laugh out in gleeful enthusiasm. It offered a glimpse of the free spirit within the man before them. ‘Imogen and I thought to test you…to see how far we had to go to have you agree.’
Stephen laughed softly. ‘I read the signs, Miranda…and from you, Imogen. I have been here before…remember?’
The women looked at each other and reached an agreement.
Stephen cut in before either could say what was now so clearly on their minds.
‘It works because a man…a lover…he’s only got one pleasure centre and can only fully engage with one partner and not the other and at the same time…’ He looked at them both, now, in some embarrassment. ‘Is that too honest for you?’
‘Not at all…’ Miranda said, glancing Imogen’s way. ‘It’s a new moment for us both, though. Let that be said while we’re about this.’
‘I did wonder,’ Stephen replied on an appraising glance her way. He made no secret of doing that now. ‘I took to thinking that you have money…are settled in your ways…but that you might like to live it out and differently when you’re on holiday and in a place like this?’
It was Imogen’s turn to look embarrassed. ‘How can we talk so calmly about it…and be so mechanical, even orderly?’
Stephen looked back and forth between Miranda and Imogen; the one was open, the other restrained. He then continued. ‘A man, who really wants to do so, can provide pleasure simultaneously to two partners pretty easily, given the way his cock, fingers, and especially mouth can all bring pleasure pretty much independently. Although of course, two men on one really enthusiastic, compliant woman…’
‘Stop, Stephen…just stop!’ Miranda gasped and on a touch of her hand to his leg. She leant in to him and to confide. ‘We get the idea…would want to learn and share in it with you in the time we are here. Is that honest enough for you?’
Imogen could not keep from laughing out in disbelief. ‘If people could hear us now, talking about this!’ Imogen looked at Miranda, then at Stephen again. She obviously had something on her mind.
‘What is it Imogen?’ Stephen saw a moment’s doubt in her look upon him.
‘I assume you paid the women in Singapore…but I’m not doing that under this arrangement…if we…or I go through with it. What we share is consensual.’
Miranda looked at her attractive, stately, friend in startled amazement.
‘We never thought to have it go any other way, Imogen.’ Miranda then turned to Stephen. ‘Sorry…it feels so rude…as if we’re propositioning you.’
Stephen sought to charm them.
‘You really wouldn’t have to try too hard to attract someone…and, what worries you has never happened in that way, ladies…not even in Singapore. I met two women…just like I’m doing now, and we seemed to fall into those ways of it because there was an attraction to each other…nothing cold and ordered.’ He paused. ‘I’m rather hoping that it will be like that between us too?’ Stephen now sat back in his chair and sipped on his drink, seemingly lost in thought. ‘Quick…look…a shooting star!’
The women looked up for an instant then at each other once more. Both were now uncertain of what they had set out to experience and from all that Stephen’s confessions of past times had alerted them to. It all seemed only too ordered and deliberate. Imogen had thought it would be a pleasure to be wooed for a few hours more and not be seduced by Stephen’s easy charms.
‘Stephen, listen?’ Miranda began, but he simply smiled her into silence, stroked the skin of her arm as she sat beside him, just as she had done at dinner.
‘You want to think it over, I think? The more we talk the less spontaneous it all becomes. Is that it?’
The women met his stilled look upon each of them in turn.
They had talked for some time, but there remained a palpable sense of attraction…an attraction so keen between them…the enticing image of them moving on from what had been aroused in them during the day and over supper…the possibility of sharing the heat together…somehow and as three lovers…that Miranda and Imogen were not the least bit surprised when Stephen discreetly put a hand on their thighs and squeezed.
‘Let’s get away from here shall we…and see what happens? I’m in lodge five….’
‘We’re in lodge seven…and eight…so we’re close…’ Miranda confessed. She saw Imogen shrug her agreement to what might yet play out between them all. ‘Give us half an hour…Stephen?’
‘Not a moment longer…and…ring my lodge phone…and ask for ‘room service’,’ he said on a teasing smile.
‘How appropriate…you said it!’ The two women shrieked in laughter. ‘What are the choices other than fleshy frolics?’ Imogen added for good measure.
‘Wait and see. I’ll change out of this costume and come to you…and we then live it out a little differently.’
The women felt the brush of his fingers sweep over their thighs as he moved from his seat and left them without a backward glance. His quiet, understated certainty of what would follow unsettled them both and that their teasing exchanges had failed to allay.
3
Stephen picked up the bedside telephone after only two rings. He had been wondering which of the two women would be the one to call and take the evening onto his preferred trajectory. It would help to set a pattern for the rest of his stay in this holiday paradise.
Miranda had been the more purposeful of the two, but he had learnt over the years that the more reserved ones, or those women ‘playing it cool and long’, brought the greater pleasure. That made his thoughts turn to Imogen, the seemingly more restrained of the two women. She had confounded his thoughts about her by revealing a tattoo on her right breast, seen when they had all been frolicking on the beach; the strands of coral beads, that she had been seen wearing, a distraction from the sway of her breasts that even her modest bikini failed to arrest.
How the remainder of the night played out would soon reveal which of them would delight him more; also, if choices had to be made by all concerned.
‘Stephen….hello…it’s Miranda. We’ve reached a decision and it’s you and I who play first. So, I hope that you’ll soon be with me?’
He had heard the lightness in Miranda’s tone. ‘And Imogen…is she playing too? I’d like it better if the three of us played it all out…’
‘Oh yes, but she’ll be along later. We’d each prefer our time with you as a prelude to sharing…if that’s the way things play out. It can all change….and we’re in your hands.’
He heard her brittle and knowing laugh.
This is going to be a long night, he kept from saying. It was also a departure from what he had thought would happen, and a twist on what he had known of before. After all that they had said over dinner, and afterwards, it was too late to have a change of heart. ‘Very well…I’ll soon be with you. Don’t dress up…’
‘As if I’d do that for you,’ she laughed. ‘The door will be off the latch.’
As Stephen walked along the decking that linked one lodge to another, he thought of Miranda. The woman sounded cool and in control of what would now play out and he was minded to let her take the lead and for him to react to circumstances as they arose. He again wore the white cotton Riviera beachpants, of earlier in the day; the draw-cord at the waist only too practical; the soft blue short-sleeve shirt and white moccasins also chosen so that leaving the women’s lodges, early in the morning, would draw no attention as his champagne beach suit, worn at dinner, would certainly do.
‘You look wonderful…for this first night in paradise,’ he said approvingly. Miranda had stood by the door waiting expectantly as he pushed it open.
‘You have you way with words…Stephen.’ Miranda smiled engagingly and on a sliding touch to his arm.
The woman looked confident and was no longer restrained by her doubting friend. Gone were her stylish glasses, her hair silken and shining, even in the candlelight cast from a myriad of glasses placed around the room. It had been braided loosely and her body scantily covered by a red satin slip dress that stopped mid-thigh. It failed to conceal from his gaze a thong of similar hue, all of it stark against the tan of her skin and the glint of pearl earrings that dangled and swayed with every move that she made.
Miranda offered him an overtly appraising glance, soon reached out to grasp the hand that he held out and that would draw her to him. She lingered.
‘I’m not sure, now…how…Stephen…’ she said meeting a slow caress of his fingers to her face than onto the soft sweep of her breasts, all of it but a moment’s feather-light touch to her body.
‘We go through there…and we don’t rush anything…’ he said smoothly.
Stephen said it even as he felt his heart racing. He took hold of Miranda’s hand as she led him silently over the highly polished wood floor and into the screened off area where a large bed was set, flanked by windows that gave views of the glittering ocean in the moonlight. It was a view of a silver sea, a thin voile serving as a mosquito screen already draped from a frame fixed above the untouched bed covers; the reed ceiling, exposed timber beams, and roughly plastered walls softly lit by table lamps, their footfalls deadened by an expanse of striped carpet and the sounds of crickets, and the breeze, lending a sense of balmy tranquility.
‘I…I know something of what you bring…’ she said softly, her fingers brushing his arms as Stephen pulled his shirt off his body and, with her help, tugged loose the draw-cord of his pants. ‘Sit…sit on the bed, Stephen. I’d like to begin this for us…’
Meeting but a moment’s kiss to his lips and the brush of her fingers over his chest, Miranda urged him to sit on the bed. She had already put on some music of her choice, the sound to be heard coming from concealed speakers.
‘The dance of seven veils,’ Stephen said appreciatively as she began swaying her hips to the music and holding his gaze upon her. She raised, then let fall her chemise; each time showing some more of her body until she finally drew it over her head and her breasts tumbled free, the slow sinuous movements of her body and the brush of the fabric over her nipples inflaming them. ‘Come here…’
‘In a moment,’ she answered on a soft, teasing laugh.
Her hands now moved down her body and traced the curves of her hips and then cupped her breasts, but she kept out of his reach. She moved closer then away in her slow, tantalising dance steps before him. Miranda placed one foot on his leg, and he bent to kiss her skin; moved his lips over her calf then onto her thigh as she moved to make that possible.
‘Now the other leg…all of this is but a taster, Stephen…’
‘And a tease,’ he said knowingly, the fabric of his briefs straining. Miranda reached for him and squeezed rhythmically over its length.
‘I can see and feel that from you,’ she said huskily, bending in to offer her breasts to him and to allow but a moment’s caress to her fleshy buttocks, for him to feel their round firmness, before drawing out of his claims upon her.
Miranda turned her back on him. She did not resist as Stephen made her sit on his lap.
‘Only for a moment,’ she groaned as his hands clamped her breasts as she linked her fingers to keep his touch there while she reached down for him, then took Stephen’s other hand and took it to her. She had him press the swell in her thong as he sought to touch her spot, to caress and slowly finger her opening.
‘Lie back on the bed!’ she now commanded, twisting out of his embrace and reaching for the waist band of his briefs and tugging his length free. ‘You…you wonder!’ she gasped, pushing on his shoulders to make him move up onto the bed and she bending down to him and stroking his flesh and cupping his sac. ‘You’re…you’re like a young colt…straining to run free. Now, move up the bed some more! Please… I can’t wait any more than you can.’
Stephen hesitated. He had heard a knock on the door before it was slowly pushed pen. Both he and Miranda looked at her, but Stephen was the quicker of the two.
‘Imogen…what a pleasant surprise and superb timing,’ he laughed out of genuine pleasure to see her. That the woman wore a figure-hugging negligee under a diaphanous gown contributed to the .realisation that a game of three would still be played out, as he had hoped. The bed was big enough and it saved him having to close his mind to one as the other’s claims were met.
‘I told you we would take care of you, Stephen,’ Imogen responded, ‘but I couldn’t wait…’
‘This will be a new adventure,’ Miranda told her, but looking at Stephen also. She gripped the hand that Imogen held out to her for only a moment.
‘You do want us all to be happy…don’t you, Stephen?’ Miranda murmured on a giggle; bending in to kiss him and stroke his prick. ‘She’s not missed much, has she?’
‘No…and I’m happier now that Imogen’s here with us,’ he smiled, reaching out to Imogen who knelt on the bed beside him and bent in to offer kisses and to stroke his body, mindful of not interfering in Miranda’s purposeful ways with him now. She seemed to be in full control, and Stephen responding to her even as Imogen met his smile. ‘Really join in,’ he coaxed. ‘Undress for me…then kneel by my head…so I can kiss and lick you out?’
‘Do you like fucking?’ Imogen asked him brazenly, as she squatted near him, as he had asked of her, and slowly easing the thin negligee over her body and cast it away, her actions unhindered by the grasping claim of his free hand upon her. She bent to him and felt Stephen’s lips suck and caress her breasts as Miranda worked him with her hands and mouth.
‘Well, I do make love to my women too…’
‘Oh, we’re not talking about love Stephen, are we Imogen?’ Miranda said on looking her friend’s way for an instant and as she moved to straddle him. ‘We’re talking about fucking. We like it hard…and we like it rough, don’t we Imogen?’
‘Well…’ Imogen sighed, on looking at them each in turn. ‘It’s not something we’ve…done before but we’d like you to fuck us at the same time,’ Imogen now said in uncommon directness. Her ways of speaking out had Miranda gasping in surprise.
She felt that she could not be outshone in this turn of events.
‘We hope you’re willing to do that because it saves time in the end, Stephen. We discover it all together and truly share everything as I think you wanted to do from the beginning…when we met and fooled around in that volley ball game…’
‘Well,’ he laughed, out the novelty of being presented with the facts by these attractive women. ‘There was much to see and be preoccupied by,’ he grinned up at them, even as the women kissed and fondled, squeezed and caressed his skin. He was outnumbered and enjoying himself. At this rate of progress it really would be a sleepless night for them all. ‘I’m really not going to argue…’
‘Good…you don’t have a girlfriend, do you?’
‘Not in the ways you might mean…’
‘Oh, fuck her, whoever she is…!’ came Imogen’s immediate reply. ‘She’s not here and we are…and we all need this! And…Miranda and I…we need you.’ She saw how Miranda caressed and squeezed his length, bent to kiss it and nibble kisses to his shaft. Imogen lent over him and reached out, soon caressed his sac, met his claims for a kiss as she did so; then the tug of his hungering mouth on the tumble of her breasts; the fearsome suck on her nipples. She pressed down, them moved so that he could flicker his tongue at her soft lips; probe into her with the tip of his tongue in his inventive, purposeful ways. She rode his upturned face lustfully.
‘You…you wonder! That feels so good!’
‘And our man feels so hard,’
Miranda groaned as she moved to settle on him and grind in slow circles as he was made to plumb her, Stephen’s hands going to her hips to set a slow rhythm. He lifted his head enough to meet Imogen’s claims upon him and the press of her tits onto his face; the sliding caress of her hands on his body as Miranda rode him furiously and slammed down on him. Neither woman offered him any reprieve, their shred breaths and gasps of effort and pleasure to be heard around them, under the net curtain..
‘Just how I like it,’ laughed Imogen. ‘Keep some of that for me, won’t you…both of you!’ she whispered as she met a moment’s touch from Miranda, she who seemed already lost in what was being discovered and in the kisses that her friend sought of her and that she met, for a first time. ‘That’s…that’s a little crazy…coming from you!’
‘And it’s wonderful to see,’ Stephen groaned and reaching out to pull Imogen back to him. ‘Let…let my tongue find you again?’
He loved her musky heat and reached behind his head to slide his fingers between Imogen’s buttocks. He gripped them to keep her on his face and sought to coax her into abandoning any remaining restraint.
‘Yes…yes,’ she whispered, trying not to be overcome with shame that she had finally discovered these ways of it between three people and in the same bed. She groaned as Stephen found her; lingered above his mouth as his tongue flickered at her lips and then probed into her. ‘Stephen…are…are you tongue fucking me?’
‘Yes…as a start!’ He seemed to be overcome with ecstasy and groaned at all that was being shared with these two women; the reality of what they shared confounding the image of two women on holiday. ‘I’ll soon be with you!’
As she plunged up and down on Stephen’s throbbing cock, Miranda leaned over and kissed him, poking her tongue into his mouth and rubbing his nipples with her hands. Imogen moved her position and reached behind her friend; fondled his balls as Miranda continued to fuck him.
‘Stephen! Stephen…!’
‘Yes…we finish it!’ Stephen’s body was beginning to feel as though it was on fire as these beautiful women, his seducers or conspirators in the acts being shared; worked him in their own beguiling ways; that in spite of Imogen’s renewed kisses and lips locked on his mouth, he began to groan; squirmed as if in delirium as both women worked him without mercy. ‘Oh Jeez…woman…women…the two of you!’
Stephen pushed up from the bed and burst; he felt Miranda ease off him and look down as his semen spurted over her belly and her breasts. He felt Imogen’s hands claim some before brazenly, and wantonly smearing it over her lips before she bent to kiss him into silence.
‘Jeez! You’re both older and wiser! So wonderful…and beautiful!’ he called out.
‘You have so much to bring…so much to give,’ Imogen then murmured, her hot breaths on his lips and face. Imogen looked up as Miranda was felt to move, to embrace her and to offer a wanton kiss of what they had shared in, thus far. ‘We’re in this together…you and I. It’s so new and wonderfully different! I don’t want to miss any of this!’
Miranda stared back at her in dismay. Their bond of friendship had, it seemed, been transformed into something quite different from all that had gone before.
The two women sat on each side of him and looked down into Stephen’s eyes, each caressing his body before Miranda moved. She reached for a scented flannel and began to wash his flagging flesh and behaved in a manner that would arouse him once more.
‘You wonder…it was quick but so wonderful,’ she said on kissing him. ‘It was that way for you too…wasn’t it?’
Stephen simply nodded and swept his hands languidly over the two women as he shivered out of contentment, his mind possessed by the memory of what had been shared and in keen anticipation and hunger for what would be discovered with Imogen.
‘Wine…get me a drink of some kind, please… my lusty vixens. Do that for me, please?’
‘I’ll go,’ Imogen said softly, her mouth just touching his lips and sweeping her breasts over his skin and reaching forward to touch and squeeze on him. ‘You’ll have to catch me, though…and when you do…we fuck…wherever we might be. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, but you’d better get out of that…’ he said, touching her thong; pressed his fingers to the swell within them. She had drawn them to one side as he licked her out. Stephen bent in to kiss her, but Imogen gave him but a brief touch of her lips before she broke free, on a deep and teasing laugh.
‘That’s for you to do!’ He was up for the challenge and waited for her to skitter around the bedroom then out into the living room and beyond, onto the deck with its cushioned sun-chairs and the tub. ‘Oh!’
‘Yes, oh…’ Stephen said on a soft triumphant laugh. Imogen had hesitated, as the barrier to her progress, unaccounted for, blocked an easy escape. ‘Is it to be in or out of the water?’
He gave her no chance to answer but drew Imogen into the stilled water, pushed her against the sides of the pool and kissed her as he reached out to turn on the pump; felt the tingling, bubbling rush of turbulent water match his longing for the other woman; felt her clamping hands to his waist then on his buttocks before sliding to grip him.
‘You….you wonder!’ she gasped on feeling the strength in him once more and soon wrapping her legs about his waist as Stephen lifted her then slowly lowered her onto his straining flesh. He plumbed her and gave Imogen no respite. ‘So soon…but…but not here…not here…not in the water…but on the mats!’ Stephen did not immediately relent in his claims upon her. ‘Please…please! Not here!’
Imogen shuddered on feeling him withdraw; touched herself and knew it to have been so; that he had found her so quickly. She was made to kneel on the mats that Stephen pulled quickly onto the poolside slabs and took her. He knelt and soon clamped his hands on her hips and plugged her back and onto him, squeezed the tumble of her breasts as he took her; set an unrelenting rhythm that had her crying out in soft gasps of pleasure at the ferocity of his movements within her. He gave her no respite.
‘Mi…Miranda!’ she gasped. ‘Help me!’
‘It’ll be okay,’ Miranda smiled, touching her face. ‘There’s passion…and he’s no threat to you.’ She was seen to smile at Stephen in appreciation for what she was witnessing. ‘Am I right?’
‘Yes…yes,’ he groaned out in his efforts and giving Imogen no respite. ‘I…I just need this from you both, now…’ Imogen pushed back against him and felt the unceasing slam of his hips against her buttocks and the fevered clamp of his hands to her breasts along with the painfully pleasurable pinch of fingers to her nipples as he tugged gently on them.
The man was in control, but Stephen didn’t just bang away. He slipped in and out rhythmically and pleasurably slow; then quickening, his fingers moving to caress her crack then to hold her to him.
‘Finish it! I want to see you when I’m with you…fucking me…Stephen!’
‘You…you wonder!’ Stephen gasped, his kisses to her back as Imogen managed to jerk and squeeze on him and to finally bring them to a frenzied conclusion, his pounding, searching strokes finally filling her. ‘Yes…let it all go in me…don’t go away!’
‘Together!’ he cried out before his utterances were silenced by Miranda’s lips stifling all sound. He had turned to meet her claims as she then pressed down on his back, and he felt her heat on his skin; their bodies moving in a frenetic and heated rhythm. ‘The three of us…loving together!’
‘Yes you wonder…you wonder!’ Miranda kissed as she felt him tremble and heard Imogen’s final cries as she succumbed to her orgasms and that his continued movements aroused. ‘Stay with her…in her!’
Miranda met Imogen’s look; saw her nod, before she bent her head; was held in his embrace upon her as the remains of his lust and her pleasure finally ebbed away.
They fell in on each other and embraced; lazed in their shared body heat. The women offered kisses of avowal for all that had happened to Stephen, then each other.
‘Will it be okay if we stay together like this…most evenings?’ Stephen asked later as the three of them sat in the small pool and drank on some chilled wine that Miranda had brought out to them. The air was balmy and still; the moon glittered on the sea of the bay.
‘Have we passed the test?’ Imogen smiled teasingly. One arm wrapped through his to keep him by her side and as Miranda did the same. ‘You’ll suffer us both?’
‘I’ll suffer for a week from the after effects…when I get back home and to normality,’ he smiled and kissed them. ‘But yes…it’s two for one…both of you for me.’
‘I think we all will…ache that is,’ Miranda told him, wonderingly, and with her hand reaching for his flaccid length. ‘Until then, we need to exercise our minds and bodies some more…’
She rose majestically from the water and held her hands out to Stephen and Imogen.
‘I want us to sleep together and to see what the dawn brings.’ She held Stephen’s hand as he slipped it around her waist. ‘I’ve never been here before…’
‘You can tell that I’m a little out of practice, but I have two wonderful teachers…with beauty and talent.’
The women looked at each other and laughed; soon nuzzled kisses to his face as they reached clamped on his prick.
‘You know what the best way to learn is, Stephen, don’t you…?’ Imogen began.
‘Constant practice…and a few rest periods in between,’ Miranda finished for her.
‘Not too many, ladies,’ Stephen teased back. ‘I have my needs…as far as time and energy allows.’
‘And we’ll meet them, won’t we Imogen?’ Miranda smiled at her friend. ‘We’re happy with what we’ve found and the man who brings it to us.’
Imogen reached out and kissed Miranda full on the lips. ‘We share…we won’t fight over anything. Our luck is really in…wouldn’t you say?’
They dried each other off and stumbled into the bed, Stephen letting the mosquito curtain fall around them as if it was a veil. When he lay down, between them, the two women claimed him and he realised that his powers of endurance, and recovery, would be tested as never before.
♥