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Ms. Green was forty five, slim, not too tall, very well proportioned in terms of shoulders, waist, hips, bottom, thighs and legs. Her tits, too, were very special. Top that lot with two deep brown eyes surmounted by a cascade of coppery-brown hair with glints of red and orange in it when she stood in a certain light and there was a really beautiful mature woman.

She was married, which was probably inevitable. Females such, as Ms Green are rarely found single, even if the marriage has turned sour. Her Christian name was Eleanor. Eleanor’s husband always spoke to her with unfailing conventionality, for he was a very conventional man. It was, in fact, his conventionality that made Eleanor get tired of him after only one year of marriage to him and one year of living with him in the small house at the end of the little street off a main road in the south of London. He was a travelling rep for a firm marketing advanced kitchenware and equipment. This situation took him in his Company car over all parts of Southern England and that was his territory. Unless he was working the Southern exhumes of South East London and Kent as far down as Eltham and Sidcup and places like that, within reasonable reach of home he left the house on a Monday morning and did not return until Friday evening. This meant that, for at least three weeks in every month. Eleanor was by herself in the little house from Monday to Friday evenings. There were no children.

In any case Eleanor was keen to keep her youthful like beauty and didn’t fancy being a housewife and a mother. After nine months of this existence during which Geoffrey left on a Monday morning and returned on a Friday evening but for one week in four when he worked districts and areas nearer home Eleanor slowly began to get bored. Bored with the little house. Bored with a restricted social life embracing a little bingo twice a week in the afternoons and evenings, bored with listening over the fence to the gossiping of the neighbors either side of her, for there was a final, last house in at the end of her street but detached and not attached. Shopping in the Supermarket was hardly Eleanor’s idea of an exciting adventure. She was afraid to go to the local cinema in the evenings for fear of being annoyed by local yobbo’s.

Only when a friend in her street was able to tear herself away from her kids for an evening was Eleanor able to have a few hours out. The disco was a distant attraction, forbidden territory for Eleanor, as her husband had told her not to go there and that friends of his in the neighborhood would grass on her if she happened to go any time. Quite naturally, nine months of this sort of life, based on the fact she was married and a housewife with a faithful husband (one presumed) nine months of this sort of deadly boring existence was having its effect on Eleanor. She started to grow careless over her dress, her hairstyling, her make-up, her appearance in general. From time to time she would look at herself in the mirror of her dressing table and see, with a certain sadness that the sparkle was going from her eyes, the luster from her hair the smile from the corners of her red lips. And she began to realise that she was no longer able to think of Geoffrey as the same romantic, glamorous way in which she had thought of him during their six month love-in before they had decided to marry. The house was his mother’s. She had died and that had clinched the deal. Marriage was inevitable and living in his mother’s house after she had died the reasonable and logical outcome.

It was not by any means merely the fact that Geoffrey was away so much on his job. It was the fact he had developed, after the wedding and the brief honeymoon, into such a boring, conventional sort of man. Tall and broad and very good looking and very much a younger man, aged twenty eight. He was the conventional girl’s conventional dream of a man. It was the fact he had become terribly boring with his love making techniques that was also causing the rot to set in. During their engagement period, Geoffrey had not made love to Eleanor, though she had so very often tried to force him to do so in his spacious car and at the homes of his relatives at which they had I stayed on occasion. But Geoffrey had always resolutely refused on the grounds that that sort of thing should be kept for the honeymoon night. Eleanor very much desirous of what she gathered was a very exciting male body under the clothes that Geoffrey wore (conventional suits, shirts, ties and-so on) agreed to keep her desires in control until, in fact, they were married.

At this moment in time, with Geoffrey away not just for the usual four days in a week but away for two entire weeks at a company convention in Brighton – Eleanor stood in her bedroom one morning quite beautifully naked and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Two unfulfilled, jutting breasts, capped with pinkish nipples. A smooth tan. The triangle of pubic hair that so beautifully matched the hair of her head. The curved hips and rounded bottom and the long, tapering thighs. Did Geoffrey appreciate all this feminine beauty? No! Thought Eleanor. How could any man possibly really appreciate it if he persisted in having sex in the dark – with the bed- clothes invariably over them? What eye could such a man have for feminine sensuality when he seemed to be too embarrassed to look at her when she was stark naked in the bedroom, in the bathroom, often in the lounge of their house? She was always being told to get dressed as she went around the small place of a weekend hopefully clad in tiny pink knickers and bra. In addition love making was for the night only. One did not Geoffrey had rather sternly told her one evening make love in the kitchen, over the kitchen table, as she had asked him to do. One did not ask one’s hubby to watch one pee down the loo. One did not want sexual intercourse over the arm of the black leather suite in the lounge. But, this was inst the sort of thing that would turn Eleanor on.

As she stood looking at herself in her bedroom mirror, she heard the young milkman putting down the usual pint of milk on her doorstep. She went to the window looking down and saw him in his clean white overall and tight jeans just about to get into his milk float and go up the street. She looked at his most attractive face and his mop of golden hair and his weather-tanned face as she parted the curtains carefully. She knew she was tingling between her thighs and gently opening up the pink petals of her cunt lips and letting her hole widen. At the same time touching a nipple, she felt it rising swiftly, she put a finger on her other nipple and it, too, rose under her touch, She knew that her house was the last house in the street at which he called before going back to the depot. He had told her so on quite a few occasions when she had happened to go to the door to order an extra pint and to pay the weekly bill.

Eleanor’s mind started to race pleasantly round in her head as she watched the blue and white milk float go slowly hack up the street out of sight. How easy it could and should be she thought for her to leave a suggestive little note in the milk bottle any empty milk bottle and to put it on the doorstep any morning. The sort of ‘little note’ that he would pick out of the neck of the bottle, read quickly and smile, and ring the bell. The more Eleanor thought about it the more her cunt opened and wettened. She lay on her back on her double bed and, with her usual know-how inserted two lingers into her hole and, at the same time, rubbed her enlarged clitoris with her thumb. With a fantasy in her mind of the tall, slim, blonde milkman in his white coat opened wide showing his little white (or pale blue?) nylon knickers and a pair of broad masculine thighs and a slim tummy and broad chest she started to toss herself off quite beautifully. So beautifully, in fact, that within moments she was twisting and writhing about on the duvet of her bed, her thighs wide apart, her legs bent at the knees, her auburn cunt hair a froth of white, churned up wet as her fingers busied themselves in and out of her quite capacious hole. Within a very short space of time, she was borne away on a wave of fantasy that involved the most fantastic things with the milkman.

When she had recovered from a half-hour session on the bed, she put on a pair of pale green nylon knickers and sent downstairs opened the door so brazenly that a passing youth the other side of the road almost fainted with a premature ejaculation as he saw her naked body but for the drawers open the door, kneel gracefully down on one knee and pick up the fresh bottle of milk that had been left for her. Eleanor spent the rest of the day, a Wednesday, almost trembling in the throes of inner sexual excitement. As the hours slipped by she became more and surer that she was, indeed, going to have the milkman in the very next morning at ten, when he called. She spent the evening at the house of a woman friend of hers, Gloria, who was married with a lustful husband who kept her in a constant state of sexual delirium. At that moment he was at the local with the boys and Gloria was telling Eleanor what was likely to happen to her (Gloria) when her husband got back from the pub. Eleanor listened to her friend’s tales of unbridled lusts on the bed of her home, in the bathroom, in the kitchen, in the lounge in front of the TV and so on. When, finally, she reached her own home at eleven she was almost breathless with desire.

Sitting at her kitchen table Eleanor wrote on the pad of white paper she kept for her shopping and household notes “Please ring the bell this morning, Milkman”. That, she felt, did not sound very exciting. Or suggestive, or subtle, or sexy. She went on scribbling, then carefully printing various notes she hoped would make the beautiful milkman realise that services other than a delivery of milk would be required the next morning when he called. Finally, with a little smile on her lips, Eleanor wrote the final and the really inspired little note, in well-formed characters she wrote – “One Pint of your Spunk please kind Milkman”. Would that be too subtle for him she wondered. Suppose he was a good, smug sort of young man with a wife and four kids at home? Would he just smile, pocket the note and leave a fresh pint of milk on her doorstep? Or would he perhaps write a polite little reply and shove it under the new bottle for her to read? Anyhow, she thought, as she neatly rolled up the note in thick black felt pen print inside the empty bottle he will know he turns me on and perhaps that will appeal to his masculine ego. And maybe, she went on thinking as she opened the front door and put the bottle with the note on her doorstep maybe he will recall the pleasant little conversations we had at the door from time and time and realise he could have something very nice going for him in this house. She shut and bolted her front door.

There followed a nice hot bath. A happy session in her bedroom looking at her beautiful, naked, young body before she got into bed the alarm set for eight-thirty. Her sleep featured sex with Milkmen, tall, slim, blonde, naked milkmen in little short white coats and nothing on under them but large healthy pricks and dangling balls, In the morning she was up as soon as the alarm went off. Perfumed all over and powdered with talc, she put on a small pair of white, hipster knickers with a small red ribbon running through the thighs-and-hip gripping elastic legs a short white linen slip with flaring folds and, over that, a short black, swingy, heavy nylon skirt with similar folds. Black silk stockings held taut and tight from a wispy red garter belt, high-heeled black shoes, a tight scarlet sweater to her slim waist over her braless breasts and, looking at her reflection in her wardrobe mirror – she felt sure the milkman would be only too eager to part with some of his very own personal milk, just for her. She wouldn’t mind where it went. On her breasts, on her naked tummy, on her naked thighs.

In her mouth and down her throat or up her hole. Or all over the coverlet on her bed. Just as long as there was milk, and plenty of it. Pints in fact! A little light breakfast of cereals and coffee, slowly, in the kitchen, the clock worked its magic way round to ten to ten. The telephone in the hall started to ring. “Fuck,” said Eleanor in a loud voice. She answered it and, of course, it was Geoffrey. “Hello, how are you? I’m just ringing from the Pub. Went to a stag do last night for the boys of the firm. Great! Are you safe and well? Are you missing me? It won’t be long now darling before I am back at home again with you.” And so on and so on. Eleanor’s flesh crept as she listened to his monotonous, presumptuous voice going on and on. She could hear the distant clink of milk bottles up the street as the milkman got closer and closer to her house. She looked at the clock in the hall and it was dead on ten. Then the pips went and, for once, Eleanor was thankful for the little mean streak in Geoffrey. He did not want to put any more money in the phone. He was cut off by the pips as he said goodbye to Eleanor and she thankfully banged the receiver down, The clink of milk bottles was now right next door.

She stood in front of the glass panel of the front door and waited to see the frosted vision of the milkman’s cheeky peaked cap, the white of his overalled shoulders the other side of the door. And yes. Now he was there. Through the frosted white glass squares she saw him bend down, pick up the empty bottle and take out the rolled-up note. She watched his blurred figure as he read the note. Her heart missed a beat as he bent down to put the usual pint of milk on the doorstep. This was the vital moment when he would either turn his back on the door or ring the doorbell. Its happy dulcet chimes rang through the small hallway. Eleanor’s heart gave a great leap. She went to the door and opened it. Outside the handsome, blonde milkman, now with his cap in his hand, his white nylon overall showing a light blue polo-neck sweater under it where the small lapels curved and folded back, smiled at her. In his hand he held her note.

“I believe,” he said smiling at her in a most delightful way, “I believe you appear to want and extra pint this morning?” Eleanor nodded, a smile broadening on her features, her eyes opened wide and sparkling, and her heart beating quite furiously under her tight Sweater. “I do,” she said, “But not exactly a pint of milk, you see.” “No,” observed the milk- man glancing down at the note. “It seems you want something a little more ex- citing shall we say?” “By all means let’s say,” replied Eleanor, stepping aside so that he could come in. In the kitchen, she put the fresh bottle of milk she had picked up off the doorstep into the fridge. She watched the milkman take off his white overall. Under it he was wearing this pale blue polo~ neck sweater of thin nylon or something like that, It just went down a little way over a pair of tight, freshly-cleaned blue jeans, They were buckled neatly at his waist with a Green leather belt. As she looked at him she made some coffee.

“The truth is,” said Eleanor a moment or so later, handing him his coffee, “The truth is that you turn me on. My husband is away on a Company convention and won’t be back for a week. He just fucks me in bed in the dark and seems to have no real sexual interest in me. I want to be admired by a man and to be poked and sucked and fucked by him.” “This is most fortunate,” said the milkman. “My name is Gerald and it so happens that I do not need to get back to the depot until four this afternoon. Therefore, since your note to me asks for a pint of spunk, it would seem that I will have more than enough time in which to supply you.”

“Great!” replied Eleanor. “My name is Eleanor. I wish to be poked and sucked all over this boring little house. I wish to have done to me all the things my boring husband refuses to do to me. I would like to be bent backwards over the arm of my settee and stuffed with at least four fingers. I would like to be made to bend low over my bed on my tummy and have my cunt sucked from behind so that there is every chance that your tongue would suck my asshole as well. I would like to see you absolutely naked you know. I am sure you have gold hair round your prick and on your balls and that you have a cock as long and as thick as a milk bottle. Like an eager baby would like to suck your milk out of you from your large prick. I feel sure it must be large because you are a milk mart. I would like to pump and to pull your milk out of your body. Also I would like you to see my nakedness and to look at my own milk producers, my own united dairies you know?”

“I know,” nodded Gerald, with that she was in his arms and their lips were pressed close together and her breasts were pressed tight up against his firm, deep chest which she could feel against her breasts. Up in her bedroom, she stripped for him down to her white starchy, drawers and her red garter belt and black stockings. “Now let me see your body,” she demanded.

She thrilled at his Masculinity, from the golden hairs on his chest to those around his swelling prick and balls to the light dusting of them on his substantial thighs as he slipped his slips down them and round his ankles and onto the floor. With her garter belt still on but her drawers off, she lay on her back on her bed as he gently lowered himself on top of her, kissing her lips, shooting his tongue into her mouth and fighting her tongue. His semi-stiff, six-incher swelled up to its full seven inches and she demanded she saw it. Kneeling up in front of her, he proudly displayed his throbbing, pulsing prick, wet at the tip, over the tiny hole, with whitish milky fluid which was pre-come mixed with transparent cunt lubrication. There followed hour after hour of sucking and tossing, of poking and searching, fingers-deep into the mysterious depth of the pink and red confines of her cunt, the little bedroom filled with sounds with which it had never before been filled. Sounds of fingers sloshing in- side a young woman’s hole and slurping against wide- opened, fleshy lips. Sounds of masculine lips sucking at her flesh of a male tongue reaching up into the ruby redness of her hole. Sounds of a warm and eager girlish hand rubbing slowly and then swiftly up and down a seven inch shaft of solid, blood filled, masculine prick-flesh sliding and gliding over and round and away from purpled-knob now very wet and cum-flicked. Sounds also of busy female lips sucking at the purpled knob until it looked like a small, ripe plum.

Sounds of squealing and sighing and moaning and crying as all Eleanor’s young frustrations were thrown to the four winds in a wild abandon of lust and released passion. For the very first time in her life Eleanor was really living. Knowing what it was to have multiple orgasms one after the other, in rapid succession, so that, as soon as one peak was reached another one was surging up inside her hole, her backside, her quivering thighs , down her spine, in her nipples themselves. Eleanor watched as his milk spurted over the bed with her hand-tossing. She watched as he knelt over her in the 69 position, his thighs spread out over her face, his stiff cock pointing down to his mouth his balls hard and solid right over her eyes. She watched, too, as he placed his face between her open thighs when, in another frantic love-in he sucked away at her, his mouth and his tongue busy at the soft, pulsing, throbbing, spasming flesh that opened and closed for him as he sucked and tongued her to death. Well almost.

Round the little house the two of them went, gloriously naked. In the bathroom, they showered under the warm spray and lathered each other’s bodies. In the kitchen, when Eleanor made a light lunch wearing a tiny little frilly gingham apron as she bent over the sink preparing a salad, Gerald was up her from the rear, his vigorous movements reflected in a long kitchen mirror, greatly to Eleanor’s delight, who left the salad in the cool, clear water to watch herself being rear fucked for the first time ever…

Gerald was single. That night he slept with her. Got up in the early hours to go to his depot. Brought her milk and went into her house for a quick session, returning the same evening to fuck her round the house again. Inevitably Geoffrey came back from his convention. But there were always the four days or so away from home during which Eleanor could have him sleeping with her. It is still going on at this very moment. In between Geoffrey carries out his conventional little sex acts with his wife under the bed clothes, with the lights out, always!

Do you get those days? I mean when despite the passing of vigorous youth the old sap will keep rising in the veins and making your mind continually turn to sex? You don’t? Well I’m sorry for you. Yesterday had been most successful, the company’s latest idea of keeping the store open late and inviting selected customers to a ‘cheese and wine’ event had meant that we had taken more orders in one night than we had over the previous month.

I hadn`t been at this particular store long, about three months, for my job was to travel the length of the country, store to store and endeavor to inject business to those having poor trading periods. A sort of super Sales I suppose; in this particular instance the stay longer than usual as the previous manager had departed this life under the strain of attempting to achieve the sales targets set. Ah well, life’s all about winning I suppose, yet the constant travel up and down the country just didn’t appeal as much as it had ten years ago. At thirty-eight I suppose I really ought to settle down…

“All clear now, Mr. Grice, if she can let me and Annie out we’ll see you in the morning.” I thanked the two cleaners for coming in on the store`s normal closing day, to clean up the crumbs, tidy up the general mess from the previous evening.

Turning away from the relocked doors, rubbing my hands together and wondering just where my other two ‘help mates might be. Now Gloria saying before we left last night that she would be willing to come in and start on some of the paperwork hadn`t really surprised me, a pretty girl of about twenty who worked in the office and always gave the impression that she liked a ‘good time’. No what had surprised me was Grace piping up to say she would too, Grace around the thirty nine, far more mature in all ways. I suppose I could have been annoyed with Grace for not letting me get Gloria on her own, but in the back of my mind I had an inkling that they were closer friends than on the surface and that I might just possibly be onto something good… I had never been more correct in all my life.

I climbed the stairs to the second floor, walked briskly to the back where the office was located and the sound of a typewriter broke the silence of the empty store. Once inside greeted by the friendly smiling face of Gloria, perched on the Stool and tapping away.

“Hello, Mr. Grice” I moved over to her. “Hi, where’s Grace?” She didn’t reply at once, instead getting up and stretching, an act designed to increase any man’s blood pressure. The activity making her breasts jut out against the front of the thin jersey wood top she wore. My eyes scanning down over her hips at the matching skirt, mid length yet still sufficient leg showing to give witness to the shapeliness of her calves and ankles. I looked into her pretty face, framed by black hair cut in a pageboy style.

“Oh all this typing makes my shoulders ache. I’ve been around, knew her act had been deliberate and never believe in missing out on any opportunity. “I thought typing made bottoms sore?’ Not a blink, not a murmur as her eyes held mine. “I suppose it does.” Her hands cupping her own arse cheeks and stroking, “Here, let me?” Two strides and l was close enough to place one hand over hers, wriggle it under them and make contact with the smoothly rounded curves. There is something about the female bottom which has always attracted me, the glorious way in which it wiggles under the touch sending me nearly up the wall. Gloria was no exception to that rule, making no attempt to move away as I became more intimate in my exploration of her bottom. Stroking the thin cloth into the back crevice and almost getting the tips of my fingers around to her secrets before she spoke. “Really, Mr. Grice, what if someone comes?”

The only person likely to come in my book was myself, my prick by now doing its well known impression of a pine tree and making space in my pants at a premium. Taking away my hand I half turned Gloria and kissed her full on the mouth again thrilled that without hesitation she returned the oral contact. Her sweet young mouth opening immediately to receive my thrusting tongue and her arms up and around my neck as I brought both hands into play on her rear. Not until we heard a cough did we part, there in the doorway stood Grace, quickly moving over to her own desk and sitting down as Gloria calmly straightened out her ruffled skirt and patted her hair into place. Oh well, the cat was out of the bag now perhaps Grace would get the message and clear off home, although by the way she started writing in a ledger nothing seemed further from her mind. I looked at Gloria, she shrugged.

“I’ll go and make us all a coffee shall I?” That was her ‘get out’, leaving me in the office with Grace, I cleared my throat. “It err… went well last night, Grace?” At that she did look up, a smile playing around her generous lips.”Not half as well as it appears to be going this morning, Mr. Grice?” For the first time in ages I felt embarrassed, found myself endeavoring to excuse my conduct. “Oh that staff relations you know, just fooling around… She was still staring at me, a lovely face, light brown hair cascading down to her shoulders and her blouse well filled in front. “People shouldn’t fool at things like that, especially with youngsters.

If you’ll excuse me I have lots to do. Grace got up from her desk and walked over to a filing cabinet. I looked at her super legs. Possibly a little too thick and yet very, very sexy, she favoring the shorter skirt that fashion stated had now gone out of style. Much shorter than usual really which should have given me a clue, the light dawning when she took a chair and stood on it to reach a ledger from off the top of the cabinet. She had slipped off her shoes and now stretched up on tiptoe, from where I stood I could see right up the short skirt and what I saw simply drove my prick up a further notch. A flash of firm white thighs, this lovely lady preferring to give her sex an airing by wearing stockings, suspender belt and minute blue panties.

“You see, Mr. Grice, I must an old fashioned girl at heart. Still up on the chair. “I can see that, Grace, and right now I’m thinking that they were the ‘good old days’… you don`t look too safe up there, shall I help you down? She was smiling again. “Would you, I mean, I’ve no head for heights really. Fetching her off that chair proved to be a very rewarding process, my hands up, one around her bottom under the skirt and the other firmly over her swelling breasts as she let her weight fall. Her feet hitting the deck, my right hand up into her hot crotch and the left still attached to the soft bosom. I moved the right by way of testing the reaction, fingers feeling the delicious outline of a very damp slit.

“Hmmm… that’s nice, Mr. Grice, very nice… Further progress proved impossible as Gloria returned to the office carrying a tray, Grace’s turn to adjust her clothing. Neither of the women spoke, rather I thought daring each other to make the first move. I sipped my coffee, racking my brain for I some solution to the situation. “Look, it’s nearly twelve… surely you’re not going to work all day? Tell you what, there are a few bottles of wine left over, let’s crack one open and celebrate?” They both looked at me, eventually Grace breaking the silence. ‘Airtight. Why not? Shall we go up into the rest room?”

A few minutes later we had all three climbed the last flight of stairs and crossed into the rest room, quite a large area really with a kitchen at one end and a selection of easy chairs for the staff surrounding a large gas fire. Seeing that it was December I lit the fire and soon the room was warm, Gloria fetched out a bottle of wine and three glasses. Somewhat awkwardly we stood sipping the wine until Grace decided to take a more positive approach to the situation.

“Perhaps, Mr. Grice… Nathan, ought to choose who is to stay?” I had no objection to the sudden use of my first name, or to her suggestion, loaded as it was with deeper meaning. “Okay, I’m game to that.”Gloria’s reply quite calm, although I saw her open her mouth in surprise as Grace began to open the buttons of her blouse, first those at the cuff and then the six holding together the front. A blue, half cup brassiere revealed. ‘After all, Nathan, could hardly be expected to decide without seeing the merchandise, could he?” Her voice spiteful as she stared at the younger woman, the blouse tossed carelessly onto a chair and her hands already engaged in locating the fastening of her bra. Oh my God, out tumbled two of the most luscious boobs it had ever been my privilege to behold. Huge, melon shaped breasts, wide flaring aureoles of light brown and a gigantic central teat.

That Grace was proud of her tits was obvious, going across to pour us all more wine as the mammaries bounced and jiggled free. My palms itching to get me a handful of those glorious mounds, my eyes rivetted to them as she carried my glass to where I sat. “I’m not going to take my clothes off… I mean it isn’t decent”.

Gloria’s protesting was much to Grace’s amusement. “In which case it’s a one horse race, darling, why not get your coat and leave now?’ Gloria looked at me. “Is that what you want, Nathan, is it?’ Again the use of my Christian name, so what? “Grace is right in one way, Gloria. It’s very difficult for me to make a decision unless I have all the facts available…” I let my voice trail away, shrugged my shoulders as Gloria stood looking a little forlorn and sad. Suddenly a grim determination crossed her features; hands grasped the bottom of her jersey top and tugged it up and over her head. She angrily tossed her head to straighten her hair, practically spat at Grace.

“Okay… okay clever, let`s see if he wants my young breasts or your big knockers… Whereas Grace’s brassiere had been of the fancy type, Gloria’s was a simple, white cotton affair, soon removed and her fine boobs jutting out. There could have been no more comparison than if I had been faced with chalk and cheese, Grace standing with her huge tits heaving and Gloria trembling a little as I viewed her superb young breasts. No more than thirty two or three yet perfectly formed and capped with beautiful rose colored nipples. We all had more wine, me catching the mood by the second and helping it along.

“Of course, it’s impossible for a man to really decide until he has unwrapped all the packaging, don’t you agree?” They did, Grace laughing and Gloria looking crosser by the second, especially as Grace made the first move by unzipping her skirt.

“Heh, that’s not fair, you went first last time] Gloria practically pushing her into a chair and taking up a position in the centre of the room, wriggling her hips and letting the skirt slide down to her ankles, step- ping daintily out of its restriction and swinging around for my approval. Oh, I approved all right, my initial reaction when feeling her bum confirmed as I saw her shapely, little hips, a tiny triangle of white cotton briefs covering her tights and crotch, the material nearly stretched to bursting point when with her back to me she bent over to pick up the skirt.

I was in grave danger of suffering a premature ejaculation, not something I normally suffered, but the sights being displayed would have driven any man to the edge. Grace up out of her chair, swiftly removing her mini and letting me feast my eyes on the lacy blue panties, the erotic area of white flesh above her stocking tops. My God, what a choice to make… l wanted them both, wanted them desperately. By this time we had cracked open yet another bottle of wine, drinking it down fast and all of us breathing far faster than normal. The maturity of Grace coming to the fore as she took us a stage further.

I ‘m thinking that its hardly right for only the ladies to show what they have to offer?” Her head inclined, looking directly at me. I stood up and undid my fly, unclipped the top support and let my slacks fall, pulling out my jockey shorts that they might overcome the sprouting erection. They fell down as the two women expressed delight at what they saw.

“Heh, talk about hiding your light under a bushel, that is really something.” Remarks making my bloated cock harden even more as they joined forces at last, both of them coming over to me and Gloria concentrating on removing jacket, tie, shirt as Grace shuffled my feet around to rid me of shoes, socks and the fallen slacks and pants.

Naked as the day I was born, feeling a bit of a berk as they stepped back to view their handiwork. Glasses replenished and Grace giving the toast. “Here’s to the finest penis I’ve seen in years, long may it remain at attention.” She was spluttering into her drink, giggling a lot as was Gloria, possibly to cover any embarrassment that they felt. Almost as if someone had given a signal they both put down their glasses and approached me again, this time pushing me back onto a side bench which ran the entire length of one wall. It was around two foot wide, padded and comfortable to my back on which I lay, Gloria kneeling on the floor and coming over the top half, her pert little breasts digging into my side as she began to kiss me. I played with her breasts, felt her quiver as I tweaked at the tight nipples and then it was my turn to stiffen with a mixture of delight and shock. I couldn’t see Grace, but I felt her alright. A warm envelope being slid over the bulb of my near spunking tool after it had been carefully lifted by cool fingers; there was no doubt that my prick was being gently sucked by Grace.

Wet lips wavering around the knob, then pulling it deeper so that it scraped along the hard roof of her mouth. Flight from the tips of my toes to the tingling hair on the top of my head I felt alive, vibrant as the two drove me wild with lust and longing. Those lips at tacking my prick were educated, knew exactly what second to suck and when to cool the ardour. Several times I was about to drag my mouth from Gloria’s, to yell out that I was going to spunk only for Grace to stay her darting tongue and pinch the base of my bulging cock. I’d been with a prostitute once in Manchester who had taken well over an hour to ‘blow’ me, her method just the same as that being employed at present. Take the male to the brink, stop him off and then start all over again, it hurt, but a pleasurable hurt.

I took my spite out on Gloria’s tits, twisting them when Grace pinched my prick, yet the harder I treated her boobs the more avid became her mouth. Crushing against my lips and her tongue stuck as far as possible inside, licking around and suggesting all manner of erotic pleasures to come. Grace must have decided that the time had arrived, her lips away for a second and her voice quite clear. “Stand by for blasting, folks.” A good half of my turgid tool swallowed, three or four swift sucking motions and then they both leapt clear. I came like a geyser, spraying out jets of cream which fell like heavy rain all over the bench, my legs and stomach. I writhed in the full splendor of release, hardly even aware that they stood together watching me through the throes of ejaculation. It was only as the storm passed that I looked at them, my brain clouded with wine and the passion of the last half hour. They were kissing,. my God, kissing, quite openly locked in each other’s arms with the massive tits of Grace being carefully massaged by Gloria. Oh no, a couple of lesbians… what had I chanced into now? They seemed oblivious of my presence until I stood up, then they simply broke the mouth contact and still continued a mutual appraisal of each other’s breasts.

“Fill the glasses, Nathan.. let`s really swing along eh?” Grace again taking the lead, me feeling a bit of a dummy as I did her bidding. carrying the girls drinks to them as they sat side by side on the bench. “Kneel slave… “Grace’s voice demanding and hard at first, then softer. ‘Oh come on. Nathan, it’s all a bit of fun… play lady’s maid for us, please?” I wasn’t sure what she wanted, but I knelt, handed them the glasses which they emptied at one draught, tossing them onto the floor and quickly spreading themselves on the thick carpet in front of the gas fire. “We want to be undressed, Nathan.”

I crawled over to them in a part drunken stupor, starting by tugging down Gloria’s tights and panties, drinking in the full beauty of her shaven sex as she opened her thighs to me, A heavenly slit, perfectly formed with smooth labia lips of light brown already winking slightly apart to reveal the glory of inner flesh. I skinned the tights off her feet, tossed aside the panties and was giving serious thought to climbing on top to ram my re-hardening tool up her pussy when Grace’s sharp tones drew my attention to her needs. “Heh, come on, get my panties off… hurry up I’m desperate.”

I obeyed without question, turning my attention to her, unhooking suspenders from stocking tops, rolling down the sheer nylons and going back up to unhook the thin strip of a suspender belt. Grace lifting up her full hips to facilitate the removal of her blue panties, the crotch of which was soaking wet. Once she was naked I could look down at the open gash of her vagina, she also devoid of hair and dark brown labia pouting away so that it seemed to me l could almost see straight up into the neck of her womb. It looked more like a cave than a pussy; she was huge in every sense of the word.

“Service us, slave, and service us now… Not that you bloody fool, orally!” The outburst caused as l endeavored to climb aboard the fullness of Grace, even through the fuzziness of the wine I knew what she meant and bent to the task. The musty scent of a woman in heat assailing my nostrils as I put my face between Grace’s thighs and felt her hips swing in to trap me in position, I lapped at her twat, having it pressed into my lips as l ran my tongue up and down the wet area, my cheeks already aching with the effort as Grace became more and more demanding upon my poor mouth, Her whole body writhing and twisting but her hips firmly closing any route for escape”. I was gasping for air when suddenly she swung open the gates and I found my head free of restriction. “Me, me, Nathan., suck me…” The young Gloria practically screaming at me as she half sat up, grabbed my head and jammed it onto her quim, lying back as I found the strength to do her properly. Again struck by the sheer contrast between the two for Gloria`s tight little cunnie was as sweet as a nut, delightful to taste and attack with eager tongue. Opening up the narrow crevice, darting inside to thrill to the flow of her secretions as she moved from normality into the sphere of a woman after lustful satisfaction. So it was for the next few minutes, first one and then the other demanding my attention on yearning fannies until Grace orgasmed in a squealing heap of quivering femininity, my last drops of energy being summoned up to lash Gloria into a foaming climax.

No sooner had I brought them to conclusion than I was once more excluded from the scene, the two of them rolling into each other’s arms and clinging tight. Hands stroking and comforting each other, mouths touching and tongues teasing. I’d only ever seen lesbians at play in ‘blue’ movies, I found to be actually in the presence of a loving pair quite the most arousing thin; every experienced. Despite being sucked off by Grace my prick was already well advanced towards the state of full erection, longing to settle it- self inside a warm pussy for a second spending. Towards that end l joined the two on the floor. no objections being raised as I got between them and we rolled around with bodies touching and lips catching brief contact. not until l put a hand onto Grace s steaming orifice did she stop.

“Heh, why spoil it, Nathan? Who wants that sort of things. Lie back, darling, and let Gloria ram you. It wasn’t what I wanted, oh I know that might sound stupid but I longed to ram my pecker up one of them… or both of them, l wanted sex, straight for- ward, normal sex in the raw, I told her so as we all sat up, she pouted at me. “Spoil sport… alright, come I On then, get it over with. At that Grace spread herself back on the floor, drew up her knees and let them flop apart.

The gaping wet snatch throbbing out an invitation, I had had it in mind to grind into the neater slit of Gloria but fell upon Grace with a grunt. Okay, I’d show her, I’d fuck her so hard that she would want more… without the slightest attempt to prepare the way I inserted my prick into her and pushed upwards. a good half of my rampant penis rushing into her passage. Two more lunges and I was up to my balls in her, sunk as deep as I ever remember and hardly touching the sides. Grace grinning up at me and taunting me. Oh. .. Come on, put it in Nathan, let’s have it up there if you really want to shag men” I saw red at that and snarled at her then redoubled my efforts.

All wanted was a sign, a sign that I was getting home to her, one moan or a gasp for me to steady the violent strokes with which I was ripping in and out of her quim. Not a bloody murmur escaped her lips; she just smiled up at me as I rushed headlong towards spunking. That smile spreading into a grin, growing go to outright laughter as I ejaculated into her. I’ve no idea if you have ever experienced such a thing, take it from me it is just about the most damning thing around. My cock went flat in seconds as I pulled it clear, my heart sank to my toes at my frustrated efforts to bring Grace to orgasm. Lat the ground open up and swallow ma, half blindly I staggered out of the rest room and along the floor to the goats. Once inside l sank down on a W.C. holding my head In my hands and trying to sort out my feelings. Aware that they would probably be having a good laugh at me back there, my senses a mixture of frustration and deep resentment for the way in which they had used me.

I had been set up like a novice for the kill, the knowledge wounded me, and my pride taking a knock that they should beat me. I hadn’t bothered to shut the stall door on the loo, looked up when I heard the door open and saw Gloria stood leaning against a wash basin. “What do you want?”. She looked sadly in my direction. “To apologise really, Mr. Grice.” So we were back to the formality again. “It’s Grace. I’m sorry for what she made you do, I expect you’ve guessed that we… well we share a flat. Sometimes she scares me, Mr. Grice, she can be so cruel and spiteful to men. I… I was so jealous when you did that to her in the rest room, I wanted so much for you to do it to ma, I’ve never had a man…” I saw tears trickling down her cheeks, got up and walked out to her. “Heh, come on, it`s not that bad, half of it was my fault for not being more sensible about the whole thing.”

She smiled. ‘You see I went to live with Grace when my parents died a couple of years ago, killed In a car crash., she was so kind and one thing led to another, I just wish that you had loved me instead… “I took hold of her shoulders, drew her to me and felt her urgent young tits jabbing into my chest.”As you trying to tell me you are a virgin, Gloria?” She nodded. “Well, I suppose so, l mean Grace has taken me hundreds of times… we have all the things necessary at the flat.”

I kissed her, not with the eager, lustful mouth of previously but gently and lovingly, bringing up a hand to cup her tits and stroke them carefully. She responded fully and soon we were locked in a passionate embrace. This was so much better than the hectic scene of an hour ago. At my suggestion we transferred to the more comfortable surroundings of the top showroom, there behind a counter lying down on a convenient rug. Caressing each other until nerve ends tingled with anticipation. that glorious period when the chase is almost done and one feels suspended on the clouds. My finger now inserted into the mushy warmth of her tight little cunt, my mouth sucking her nipples and my heart once more uplifted.

“Will it hurt, Nathan?” Her voice quivering. “No… Honestly it won’t, but I`ll have to leave you, I mean I haven’t got anything to make it safe for you.” She kissed me deeply, taking away her lips and smiling up at me bravely. “Darling, I don’t care. I just want you, just want to have you inside… it doesn’t matter if you make me pregnant, I’d love to have your baby, Love to. I was in danger of felling very deeply for Gloria at that moment, told her so as I eased her legs wide and positioned myself ready for the joy of knifing up into her virgin slit. Amused for a brief moment for the thought that she was technically not a virgin because Grace must have removed that state for her, then lowering and bringing to bear the taut bulb against her trembling labia. That Gloria was afraid was beyond doubt, her face tight and nervous as I increased the pressure and took the knob inside that inviting crevice.

Oh God, she was tight and narrow, the tense edges of her quim fluttering as I progressed and got a good hold. It was delicious, sensational to creep up her tight cunt and hear her moaning softly as I gained ground until my throbbing prick was safely embedded. Not deep, but on sure ground as I cradled her in my arms and took time out to savor the delights of being able to fuck such e creature, only when some of the tension flowed out of her tense limbs did I attempt to prod cocky further. Each tiny insertion greeted with eager gasps of pleasure from Gloria. “Oh. Ohhhh, Nathan, its lovely… so much nicer than with Grace, so different to have a living thing inside me instead of rubber or plastic. I’m never going to have that again; all I ever want is this lovely penis inside me. Do it to me, Nathan, do it to me.”

The ride that followed was one of the best ever, at first a gentle undulation of the hips to give the timing. Gloria catching the tune and grinding her pelvis to ensure that stayed aboard, giving me thrill after thrill as the tempo increased and my rigid tool nosed right up her unexplored channel. I regret to say that all thoughts of protecting her disappeared and I couldn’t have come out to save my life. We walked, trotted and then ran full pelt into orgasm with Gloria winding her legs up and around my buttocks as I reached the short strokes lust prior to ejaculation into her glorious quim. I shed a bucketful of sperm up her, held her tight and was at peace until.. I heard a cackling laugh above us. “Oh Christ, he swallowed the lot, darling, all that guff about being an orphan and a virgin, how I stopped from laughing out loud I`ll never know…

It took me about ten seconds to withdraw from Gloria, dash to the rest room. That’s a laugh, ‘rest room’… dress and try to assume some dignity and escort the two laughing females off the premises. That night I rang the supervisor, asked and got an immediate transfer. Just grateful that I was away from the clutches of the two most avid female’s I had ever met., it’s going to be a hell of a long time before I ever let myself in for that again.

There’s nothing worse on a cold and snowy day than to be working in a street market and not selling anything and Ralph was almost tempted to pack everything up, then Clarissa flashed on the scene. Though her order for second-hand books didn’t add up to a fortune, Ralph decided her looks alone spoke volumes, and he was more than eager to personally deliver….
The big coal fire crackled in the open hearth, throwing distorted shadows across the walls. Clarissa made a noise like a contented kitten as my hands explored her wonderful body and she writhed with pleasure as my mouth sought out her nipples, sucking and nibbling them to erection. My fingers slid into the warm, wet valley of her cunt causing her to groan and thrust herself upwards. I rubbed the throbbing button that was her clitoris and she had a sharp intake of breath.
“Faster, faster,” she pleaded. I did as she wanted but my cock was as stiff as a rifle barrel and badly needed some expert attention. I rolled off her and got her to sit on my face, immediately tasting the juices that dribbled from her pussy as she reached for my prick and started to gobble it with unbridled enthusiasm. Sweat poured from the pair of us, glowing orangey in the light of the fire, but I only noticed this with a fraction of my mind. With someone as lovely as Clarissa, it was difficult to concentrate on anything but her and, when her gaping pussy was so close to my tongue, it was all but impossible.
I’d spread her arse checks, getting her cunt really wide. Now, taking a deep breath, I ploughed my face towards her licking her clit before sticking my waggling tongue into her love tunnel. Her whole body shuddered and she began to work on my dick with even more vigor than before, sucking at it, and massaging my balls as she did so, sending wave upon wave of carnal ecstasy coursing through me.
I lay there, my face wet with her love oil, as she rose and turned around. Smiling wickedly she took my cock in her hand and guided it up into her, then started to bounce up and clown upon it. I gripped her thighs and thrust upwards, fucking her like crazy until the mind-blowing moment of climax drew near. I fell back and left it to Clarissa. She continued to slide her cunt over the full length of my staff until, with a blaze of passion.
I came; I gripped her again and really ploughed upwards, sending my seed spurting into her wet and very willing fanny. She groaned and gasped and threshed about as my thrusting subsided, then she pulled herself off and resumed her position over my face. As she went down to suck the remains of my climax from my throbbing knob, I set about tonguing away the spunk and cunt cream that oozed from her pinky gleaming pussy. I hadn`t been thinking about sex that morning. It was cold, with just the hint of snow in the air, just about the world`s worst time to be working in a market, whatever you happened to be trying to sell, I`ve got this secondhand record stall and, usually, l manage to make the odd few bob to supplement my meager office salary.
Today, though, was lousy. Those people that were about seemed in too much of a hurry for browsing and, let`s face it, with books and records, if they don`t browse, they don`t buy. I did have one or two stop and give my stock the once over. There was this little old lady in a funny hat who caught sight of the lurid cover of a crime novel (a half naked bird with a knife stuck between her knockers) and gave me a right verbal ear bashing about decadence and corruption before storming off I was too bloody cold to worry about her Victorian concept of morality and while I was sipping some hot tea from my trusty thermos, another punter appeared. This one was altogether different; about forty eight, I thought, with an expensive looking leather trouser suit, high heeled boots and a woolly hat which only partially contained her lustrous auburn hair. She peeled off her gloves and set about poking at the shelves of books with a vaguely disdainful look on her very attractive features.
“See anything you fancy, love?” She looked up as if noticing me for the first time and her expression didn`t alter. “I seem to have rather a lot of spare time on my hands and I thought I might do some reading.” Her voice was pleasant. Well modulated, I waved a hand. “There`s quite a lot to choose From, What sort of stuff do you like?” “Well, I suppose thrillers really.” I grinned. “I should have thought you might go for Jackie Collins or Jilly Cooper. Lots of the ladies seem to like their efforts.” She looked me up and down. “I don`t like to get my sexual kicks vicariously.” she commented smoothly, “Why don`t you pick out about half a dozen mysteries for me?” While I was getting the books together she seemed to have a sudden thought.
“Oh dear look my ear is in for service and I have quite a lot of shopping to do. Could you keep them for me?” Ever helpful me, “Why don`t I deliver them for you’?” I don`t know why I said it, unless it was the comment she had made about sexual kicks. I mean, offering to deliver a batch of books worth £15.00 was hardly good business. She smiled slightly, raising her eyebrows. Her eyes were brown and there was a hint of amusement glittering in them.
“Why would you want to go to so much trouble?” “Anything to please a customer, just so long as you don’t live in Out a Mongolia.” She went in her purse and produced a primed card. “Clarissa Cadenet ….. 98 Regis Drive.” I knew the street. It was less than ten minutes drive from where we were standing. “If you`re serious about delivering, then you can make it a dozen books. I leave the choice up to you. You can bring them around at eight o`clock, if that`s convenient.”
It was snowing softly, but windless, as I pulled up my van in Regis Drive just before eight, I climbed out, lugging the carrier bag full of books and she opened the door before I had a chance to ring the bell. “Hi, come on in,” I followed her into a big lounge where a large open fire crackled away merrily. She was wearing a blouse and skirt ensemble, but no stockings or tights. Her legs were good; in fact the whole of her looked good enough to eat. I accepted a vodka and tonic and moments later we were seated, side by side on a big couch before the fire.
“You live here alone?” She smiled slightly. “No, I share the house with my sister. We`re both divorced and it’s quite a good arrangement Jo is away a lot; she’s a rep. for a perfume manufacturer? “Is she away tonight?” She looked at me archly. “Are you trying to find out if Fm, alone’?” I put my half used drink down and reached for her hand, bringing it to my lips. “You’re not alone,” I said, “I’m here.” She made no attempt to pull her hand away so I moved closer and slipped my arm around her neck, her breath was hot on my face as she turned towards me, her eyes closed, I kissed her and she clung to me hungrily. The smell of her perfume was intoxicating and just the closeness of her drove me wild.
I had an erection like a stallion and as I tentatively slid a hand over her breast; she reached down and began unzipping my flies. We undressed each other, she smoothly helping me out of my gear, whilst I fiddled with her various buttons, zips and clasps with trembling, urgent fingers. Then, we were both naked, our discarded clothing scattered about the floor.
I took her in my arms, feeling her heart pounding as our lips met once more, her tongue was a delicious, darting snake as it writhed around my own and her fingers were doing wonders down below, wanking me gently, teasingly. We got down on the sofa and she lay back, holding open her delightful pussy and running a fore finger over her clit as I just knelt there and drank in the wonder of it. Then I went down on her licking and nibbling, she cried out “Oh my God, give it to me!”
I lifted my head, my mouth dribbling her fanny juice and managed an out of breath smile, “Not yet,” I panted, I got up and stood beside her, my dick close to her mouth. She didn’t need telling what l had in mind. She grabbed it at once and started sucking away while I fingered her tits, squeezing her stiff nipples.
“Mmmmm …. yes …. Oh yes …. “. She seemed to be enjoying her mouthful to judge by the noises she was making and, I have to admit, that I found the experience a long way from being unpleasant, My main fear was that I might shoot my load into her mouth before I had had the opportunity to slid my cock into that gorgeous fanny of hers. Clarissa evidently felt the same way, for she let go of my pride and joy and resuming her legs apart position, demanded that I do my duty.
I looked down at my throbbing penis, red and angry, from her expert ministrations. I wasn’t far off a climax, but I didn’t want to spoil things by coming too soon. I took my time, getting back to my kneeling position on the sofa. Clarissa was mewing and playing with her pussy rubbing her pussy and working her long lingers deep into her well oiled cleft. “Come on you teasing Bastard, come on and fuck me.”
I took a couple of deep breaths, took my dick in hand, then guided it to her gaping cunt entrance, rubbing it around there while she screamed for me to stick it into her.
Eventually, I eased it inside, feeling her muscles contract around my length, At once, she hooked her legs around my back and thrust her body upwards, crying out as this action caused my prick to plunge away inside her, “Oooh!” Her breathing became very fast and very noisy as I started to fuck her, slowly, with long, deep, penetrating strokes. Her hands were on her breasts, squeezing and rubbing her hard nipples and her head was tossed back, eyes closed, her mouth working There’s nothing that turns on a man so much as the realisation that his fucking is giving as much pleasure to the woman as it is to him. Clarissa seemed to be in a carnal paradise, savoring each and every stroke of my pounding weapon, gasping at each probing penetration. “Oh, oh, yes ….. Oh, shoot please, spunk into me.” I could experience the onrush of orgasm from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. The strokes got shorter, more frenzied and, finally, with a searing thrill, my semen boiled into her whilst her whole body quivered with its own spasms of climax.
I just lay upon her, my cock twitching as the dregs of spunk oozed from my body into hers. We held one another, hearts pounding, passion spent. I don’t know how long we remained like that; two sticky, perspiring units that had recently been one, but it was pleasant to lay there by the fire, knowing that the snow was falling outside but each having a warm body to cling to. Eventually, Clarissa slipped on a dressing gown and went off to make coffee. When she returned we browsed through the books I had brought. I hardly had the nerve to remind her that she hadn’t paid me for them. “Hmm, they look okay. I suppose I have plenty to read now, to fill up my lonely hours.”
I held out my arms and she came to me, a pink tongue flicking about her full, kissable lips. “I can think of another way to fill up your time,” I whispered. She pouted, prodding my nose with her forefinger. “Something tells me that it isn`t only my time you want to fill,” she observed, reaching once more for my rapidly reviving cock.