Pressed Together : Wank Wednesday

Today's Wank Wednesday prompt word is #echo. Today's Wank Wednesday prompt word is #echo.

For more information on this writing challenge, and to find links to the other stories visit Word Ejaculation.

Pressed Together

Did you ever see that film His Girl Friday? Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell. Very funny. All about a newspaper reporter who teams up with his ex-wife to break a big story? It's all a scheme to break up her new relationship and get her back for himself. I used to love that movie. Not anymore. Now it has bad associations for me.

I've been a reporter on the Daily Echo for twelve years now. My name is Charles Foster. For the first of those two years, Roberta Sullivan was my assistant. For the next five years, she was my assistant and my wife. We were a great team, until she discovered that, when I came home much later than she did, it was because I was putting more than just the paper to bed. Our divorce was a messy one. It was in all the papers, except the Echo.

Then, a month ago, three events occurred. They had no causal connection, but they were pre-requisites for an exquisite form of torture inflicted on me by what I can only term fate.

Roberta divorced for the second time. Intolerable Cruelty was the reason she gave in court. This comedy, starring George Clooney and Catherine Zeta-Jones, was her husband Charles Blanding's favourite movie. And he insisted on watching it at least once a week.

"If it had been The Big Lebowski or Fargo or pretty much any other Coen Brothers movie, I could have put up with it," she declared in court. After the jury were shown the film they voted unanimously in her favour.

For the four years when she'd been married to Blandings, film critic for the Senior Citizen's Gazette, Roberta had been happy to stay at home and work on her novel about a woman who spent two years working as the assistant to a reporter, fell in love with him, married him, continued to work with him for a number of years, and then caught him cheating on her.

The second thing which occurred was that Roberta received her 347th rejection slip. Reluctantly, she decided that she would have to return to work.

Since there were only two major newspapers in our town, the Echo and the Tribune, Roberta sought employment at the Tribune. The editor told her that he would normally have jumped at the chance to employ such a highly regarded research assistant, but, unfortunately, the combined influence of the financial crisis and competition from the internet mean that the paper would be folding in three days.

That was the third event. And it led to Roberta applying for her old job back at the Echo. Since I was the only reporter who didn't have his own research assistant, the editor assigned her to work with me once more. I tried to dissuade him, but, ever since that incident when I accidentally illustrated a story about a dirty old man who was exposing himself to young women in the park with a photo of prominent real estate developer Francis Fosdike, he has, perhaps understandably, been of the opinion that any favours are owed by me to him and not the other way around.

Let me tell you a little bit about Roberta. She is quite possibly the most infuriating woman on the face of the planet. This would not be the case if she didn't have her charms. In fact, what makes her so infuriating is that she is so desirable. A treasure you cannot surrender and yet with a price far too high to pay. That is Roberta in a nutshell.

Physically, she is still truly luscious. She's tipping forty now, but with her long red hair, pale skin with freckles, her large breasts (which just seem to get more enticing the further I know they must now hang down when she takes her bra off), her broad womanly hips and that round bottom which has a life of its own as it jiggles beneath her loose skirt and whatever conservative panties she is wearing.

Ah, conservative. There's the rub. When we were married and working together she was so beautiful and so sweetly affectionate, loving nothing more than kissing and cuddling, even in the office. But she was conservative. I won't say she was a prude. She liked sex as much as the next woman, as long as it was in the dark, under the bed covers. But I hardly ever saw her naked. I very much wanted to. Sometimes I'd walk in on her when she was in the shower, but that would put me in the shit with her for the rest of the day. And I definitely couldn't watch porn when she was around. What do you do when the light of your life cramps your style?

Now I could see that I was going to get the worst of both worlds. I wasn't going to get any nookie from her, but she would no doubt be as generous as ever with criticism of my imperfections.

"Neither of us want this," she said to me on the first day, "but let's not try to cut our noses off to spite our faces. I don't want to make it easy for you, I'll admit that. And I'm sure that you don't want to make it easy for me. But don't make it harder for yourself just so it will be harder for me."

"Oh, don't worry," I leered. "There are many women I'll make it harder for, and you are not one of them."

"Very funny," she replied sarcastically. "But it will take more than dick jokes to get under my skin. I'm not the shrinking violet I once was."

"We'll see," I mumbled.

The story I was working on was a big one involving political corruption of the worst kind. There were rumours that Mayor McLean was working hand in glove with mob boss Tony Margheriti, going light on law and order in return for drugs and prostitutes for the entertainment of important campaign supporters. To discover the truth we would have to go undercover in places where Margheriti hung out.

One of the places where he hung out, in more ways than one, was Dolphin Cove Nudist Beach.

For a while it seemed like everything might be going my way and this situation may not be so bad after all. There were two things which would give me great pleasure. One was to see my ex-wife's luscious nude body after all these years. The other was to totally humiliate her.

I would just tell her that we were going to Margheriti's favourite beach. I wouldn't tell her it was a nudist beach. In fact, I would act as if it were a surprise to me too. She would be horrified, but, her dedication to her job, not to mention financial desperation, would win out. She would have to strip completely naked. And I'd make her walk around that way in front of loads of strange men, all the time squirming with embarrassment inside and seething with anger at what I was doing to her. I was practically rubbing my hands with glee. And the idea made me so horny I had to nip quickly into the loo for a quick wank. It wouldn't do for me to get over-excited. I would have to keep at least a little of my mind on the job.

"You didn't tell me this was a nude beach," Roberta pointed out when we arrived. "This isn't my idea of going undercover."

"I'm as surprised as you," I declared. "One doesn't normally associate gangsters with nudism."

I quickly undressed.

"If you didn't know," Roberta asked, "then why didn't you bring any bathers?"

"That just goes to show how forgetful I can be when I'm chasing a big story," I pointed out. "It's a good thing I have such a perspicacious assistant. Now take all of your clothes off. We can't let your prudishness get in the way of our task."

"When was I prudish?" she asked, as she kicked off her shoes, unzipped the back of her white summer dress and let it drop to the sand. I wasn't wrong, she looked as good as she ever had in the few times she'd worn a bikini during our marriage. Then she unhooked her bra and let it drop. When I saw her full pale breasts with their nipples like strawberry-flavoured lollies dangle free, swaying loosely above her slightly rounded belly, I just wanted to grab them and bury my face in them and suck on those nipples. "Are you sure you are allowed to walk around like that?" she asked, looking down at my now rampant erection.

"Ah, this could be a problem," I conceded, as I watch her pull down her panties to bare her tangle of fiery pubes, which failed to entirely hide the pink slit of her tantalising cunt. She turned away from me and bent down to pick up her clothes. The sight almost caused me to cum on the spot. Her bum was a masterpiece and the way it was stretched before me like that filled my head with thoughts of fucking her in her pink puckered little asshole, something I'd never done before.

Girls Out West

"Oh, dear," she cried when she turned back around. And then she burst into hysterical laughter as she pointed at my stiff cock. "Did I do that?" she asked. "I didn't know you still cared."

This wasn't quite working out the way I'd hoped it would.

"Perhaps it would be a good idea if I keep a low profile," I suggested, trying to rescue some shred of dignity. "I'll observe from behind a palm tree. And take notes."

"O.K." she replied, trying to keep a straight face. "So can you see Margheriti?"

"Yes," I told her. "He's the tanned muscular gentleman wearing the fedora and smoking the cigar."

"Oh, he's cute!" she exclaimed, and trotted off across the sand towards his umbrella.

I hung back behind a large tree until I lost my hard-on and then followed the tree line down towards Margheriti's umbrella. Once there I again observed the situation from behind a tree.

"Ask that ravishing redhead if she would like to have a drink with me," he instructed one of his minions.

When Roberta was led over, Margheriti stood up to raise his hat to her. I swear his fat bronzed cock hung about half way to his knees.

"You have such lovely pale skin," he told her. "You mustn't allow yourself to get burned. I can see that you are not used to visiting nude beaches."

"No, I'm not," she admitted. "To tell you the truth, I'm a little embarrassed." And she was blushing, but whether from her exposure or the fact that she was having a hard job dragging her eyes away from the gangster's massive schlong, was a matter for conjecture.

"Protection is one of my specialties," he informed her. "Let me fortify you with 15+." And with that he picked up a bottle of sunscreen, squirted some in his hand, indicated for her to turn away from him, and began to rub it into her back.

She was certainly doing a good job of ingratiating herself with the man. As I watched, he continued to smear sunscreen over her body, moving progressively to more intimate regions. Damn, why hadn't I thought about the whole sunscreen issue. It could have been me fondling her big soft slippery breasts. My boner returned with a vengeance as I watched the gangster slide his hands all over her big bum.

"Hey, that's the place the sun doesn't shine!" she cried as he slid a big slippery finger all the way to the third knuckle up her tight pink arsehole.

She didn't complain though when he began fingering her hot hairy pussy.

"Cheeky boy," she said with a wink.

Could this be the same woman to whom I'd been married for so long? Surely it wasn't boring Blandings who had loosened her up?

The situation was serious though. At this rate, that lascivious Italian might rape her at any moment. He was a powerful muscular man and I wasn't sure she would have the strength or courage to fight back.

"You're not allowed to do that kind of thing in public!" I cried, bursting suddenly out of the underbrush.

The authorities were summoned. And I was arrested. After all, I was the one with an erection.

***

"That was very unprofessional of you," Roberta scolded me, after delivering my bail. "Threatening to report a gangster to the authorities is not the way to get close to him."

"I wouldn't worry about it too much," I reassured her. "I'm sure he won't recognise me with my clothes on. And he doesn't know that you and I are connected, so your... errr... good work has not been wasted."

"What's next on our list of his hang-outs to visit?" she wanted to know.

"I think I'll take care of this one on my own," I informed her. "There is a good chance I'll be able to strike up a conversation with him."

"Where is it?" she insisted.

"His strip club - The Punctured Pussy," I replied with a casually manufactured air of indifference.

"Yeah, I bet you want to go there alone," she sneered.

"Well, it makes sense. I'm less likely to draw attention to myself," I replied.

She grumbled, but I ended up walking into the neon-studded club alone. The music thumped out a primal beat as girls with too much silicone and too much tan swung around the poles.

I saw Margheriti sitting over in a corner with a blonde on either side. I took a booth right next to him in hopes that I could overhear his conversation if any of his men joined him. But the loud music made it impossible to hear anything.

"And tonight's a very special night," announced the M.C. "It's amateur night! We have a great selection of lovelies for you tonight, all of them showing their pussies off in public for the very first time. And the prize money I have to admit is not that substantial and you know what that means! It means they're performing for you tonight because it get's them wet!"

"Bunch of sluts!" I said to myself, turning around to get a better view of the stage.

"Put your hands together for Xenobia!" cried the M.C.

"Hey, she's a bit of alright!" I exclaimed, as a busty woman wearing a turban, a harlequin mask and a Chinese blue silk dress with a slit up the side strutted out onto the stage.

"Take it off! Take it off!" I yelled lustily.

She unzipped her dress as she swayed to the music, and then pealed it off. Underneath she wore a black bra and matching panties. She was much sexier than the professional strippers with her pale skin and fleshy form. I decided to postpone my attempts at surveillance and go down and get a closer look.

She turned her back and teased us by pulling her panties halfway down to reveal a few inches of buttcrack and then pulling them back up again. Then she unclipped her bra and threw it away, turning back to face the audience with her hands clasped coyly over her big soft freckly breasts.

"Shake those ta-tas!" I cried, as she threw wide her arms and let her luscious naked breasts swing free.

She when quickly unwound her turban to reveal her long red hair and pulled off her mask to reveal that she was, as you have no doubt guessed, my ex-wife Roberta.

"What do you think you are doing?" I cried, but there was no way she could hear me over the pounding beat of the music.

In desperation I pulled out a $20 note and waved it in her direction. She sauntered over to me with a shit-eating grin on her face and squatted down to let me shove the money down her panties.

"What's the idea?" I asked.

"You don't think I'd trust you to be able to do the job alone, do you?" she asked. "Anyway, that nude beach experience gave me quite a taste for being perved at." Then she stood back up and began gyrating around the stage once more.

"God, she's gorgeous," sighed a spotty youth sitting beside me. "I love older women."

"Don't judge the book by the cover," I grumbled.

I told myself that her attitude was just bravado. She just didn't want me to know how humiliated this whole scenario made her feel. But, as a clinical observer of factual evidence, I had to admit that the dampness of the crotch of her panties argued persuasively against this conclusion. And when she pulled them down and threw them into the audience, squatting down and spreading her legs so that we could all see the pink swollen lips of her pussy (which was now clean-shaven), the creamy liquid dribbling from it down her thigh was pretty much the clincher. My ex-wife was a dirty bitch, and it was too late for me to enjoy the fact.

Roberta didn't win the competition, but, as she wandered around the club in her bra and panties, the spotty youth approached her and asked for a lap dance.

"I don't actually work here," she pointed out.

"That's O.K.," he replied. "I'll give you $200."

Roberta looked over at Margheriti. He was deep in conversation with a tall blonde man. And then she looked at me sitting in the booth next to them, once more trying to hear their conversation. I looked at her, she looked at me. And the longer she looked at me the more her eyes narrowed and her lips set in a hard line.

"Sure, why not," she told the youth as she looked me steadily in the eye and allowed her lips to curl up into a cruel smile.

We were supposed to be working undercover to collect information, not giving lap-dances. This was insubordination from someone who was supposed to be working under me. I had to decide which was more important, the surveillance or keeping my assistant in line. I wasn't making much headway with the surveillance I had to admit. And, if I allowed Roberta to get the feeling that she didn't have to answer to me it could sabotage all future efforts. I had to get into the lap dancing lounge and observe Roberta's flagrantly unprofessional behaviour with my own eyes so that I could reprimand her about it later.

"How much for a lap-dance?" I asked a slim Asian girl named Lily as she walked past dressed in bra and g-string.

"Fifty dollars for ten minutes," she replied with an insincere smile.

By the time I'd paid my money and she'd led me by the hand out into the shadowy room full of padded armchairs and couches, Roberta was already completely naked and smothering the guy's face with her big soft breasts.

"You know that there is no touching, don't you?" asked Lily as she sat me down in a chair and planted her soft bottom on my knee.

"Yes, yes," I said absently as I watched Roberta bend over and spread her arse cheeks for her customer.

It didn't take long for Roberta to spot me there in the semi-darkness.

"Why don't you feel my tits," she said to the young man. "You know you want to."

"But that isn't allowed, is it?" he asked nervously.

"I don't work here, remember," she responded. "What are they going to do, fire me? Feel me up to your heart's content."

I felt like telling Margheriti about this flagrant flouting of the rules of his club, but I realised that that would tend to undermine our investigation.

"Feel how wet my cunt is?" purred Roberta as the walking advert for pimple cream blatantly wanked her off. Then she looked over at me and poked out her tongue.

Two can play at this game, I thought to myself. And so I roughly grabbed Lily's breasts.

Crack! The sound of Lily's palm coming into violent contact with my face echoed around the lap dance lounge. But she wasn't as violent as the two gorillas who roughed me up and hurled me out onto the street.

Half an hour later, Roberta exited the club, dressed once more in her silk dress.

"That was fun," she smiled, then, noticing my black eye, "I bet that smarts."

"You've got something running down your chin," I pointed out.

"Whoops!" she giggled, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"You sucked that pimply guy off, didn't you?" I accused.

"No... Well, yes I did... But it isn't his cum," she informed me.

"Then whose?" I wanted to know.

"Margheriti's," she said. "He recognised me and asked if I was stalking him. The only way to keep him from suspecting I'm a reporter was to say that I was stalking him because, after seeing his huge cock, all I could think about was sliding it right to the back of my throat and tickling his beautiful balls with my tongue until he flooded me with his hot creamy jism."

"You really are becoming an expert at deception," I admitted begrudgingly.

"And the best part is that he was so impressed with my oral abilities that he has invited me to an orgy next Saturday night at his mansion," she beamed proudly.

***

Now it was my turn to not trust Roberta. I was desperate to get to that orgy too. And, after a bit of thought I came up with the perfect way of getting an invite. I would disguise myself as... a reporter. It's the old "hide in plain sight" strategy. Margheriti would want nothing to do with a reporter from the Daily Echo, but if the non-existent Mobster's Monthly wanted to do a profile on him his ego would not allow him to refuse.

His mansion was enormous and it was filled with a multitude of beautiful men and women in various states of undress. It occurred to me that Roberta and I could both spend the evening wandering through this libidinous labyrinth without ever crossing paths.

"You have some hot chicks here," I commented to Margheriti, after we had concluded the interview.

"Ah, yes," he smiled. "But none like the suck monkey."

"The suck monkey?" I asked, in bewilderment.

"That is what we have nicknamed her," he replied. "She loves sucking cock. And she loves the idea of anonymous sex. She was disappointed when I said we had no glory holes. A Margheriti does not drill holes in the walls of his mansion. But she has taken up residence in my bedroom with the light off. Any man who enters the room will get his cock thoroughly sucked and his cum thirstily guzzled by the suck monkey."

Finding Roberta could wait. There was no way I was going to pass up a bit of suck monkey action. I ran up the stairs and into the master bedroom. A female figure was standing in the shadows. I said nothing. She said nothing. I threw off my clothes, lay down on the bed and waited.

Soon I felt the mattress sink as she sat beside me. Her soft hand tenderly stroked my cock to stiffness. And then I felt the caress of her hot breath on my rigid rod before it slid slowly into the warm wetness of her mouth.

She sucked my cock with all the uninhibited enthusiasm of a piglet sucking it's mother's teat. I could see why they called her the suck monkey, there was something gloriously subhuman about the way she surrendered herself to the sexual act.

Soon I was quivering and quaking and spurting my creamy load into her magnificent mouth.

"If my ex-wife had been able to suck cock like that I never would have cheated on her," I declared.

"Charles! What the hell are you doing here?" asked the suck monkey, sounding amazingly like Roberta.

Well, to cut a three column story down to a two column one, Roberta wrote the article without me and the editor was so impressed that now she is the head reporter and I'm her assistant. She even refers to me as "her boy Friday."

But I will get my revenge. I can see it now. We'll be doing an article on the bondage sub-culture. I'll trick her into letting me handcuff her to the bed. Then I'll strip her naked. She won't want to let me pleasure her body. She won't want to let me suck on her stiff nipples. She won't want me to flick my tongue over her oh-so-sensitive clit. She won't want these things because she will be humiliated by how they cause her to lose all control. She will beg me not to violate her vagina with my pulsating prick. But I won't be fooled. I'll know that is what she really wants, just like Brer Rabbit wanted to be thrown in the briar patch. So, instead, I'll jack off and squirt my cum all over her face. And then I'll laugh as I smear it all over her cheeks and her lips and her nose as she fumes in livid rage. It's going to be awesome.

But then reality intrudes.

"It doesn't take an hour to take a shit. I know what you are doing in there and it isn't appropriate in work time. Come out immediately and get back to the filing..."

The End

Henrietta Gets Hen-Pecked : Wank Wednesday

Today's Wank Wednesday prompt word is #magician. For more info on the writing challenge and for links to the other contributions check out the Word Ejaculation page.

Henrietta Gets Hen-Pecked

"I don't think you realise how degrading these gigs are for a serious magician," Henrietta complained. "I could pull a rabbit out of my cunt and those chicks wouldn't be impressed. All they want is your cock."

"It pays the bills though, doesn't it?" I pointed out. "Everyone has to have a gimmick."

"But the magician's assistant is supposed to be the window dressing," she explained. "When the magician is the window-dressing to her hot assistant something is wrong."

"So you admit I'm hot?" I teased her.

"I admit nothing of the kind," she griped. "I'm speaking from the point of view of the audience."

Henrietta is a lesbian. I'm a male stripper. We do the hen party circuit as a novelty act. She comes out as the archetypal magician in top hat and tails. I come out in tight white flares and a bright purple jacket open to reveal my hairy chest and my six pack. I'm the magician's assistant, helping her to do the usual kind of tricks involving flowers and doves, then, gradually, in a series of puffs of smoke, she makes my clothes disappear until I'm down to a skin-tight pair of gold lame hot pants. Then she makes them disappear too and I spend the rest of the evening wandering amongst the horny guests, getting my cock wanked and sucked, and usually ending up fucking at least two of the bride-to-be's friends, or even the lady herself, while all the others watch and cheer.

"At least tonight there's a chance you might pick up," I pointed out. "The party consists of the staff from Rug-Munchers Are Us porn site."

"Don't be naive," she sneered. "They're not real lesbians. It's just a job."

"Some of the photographers might be," I suggested.

"Well, they didn't hire a female stripper, now did they?" she asked, perspicaciously.

"This is true," I admitted.

"Anyway," she bemoaned, "it's hard for a dom like myself to find a girl who knows how to take orders."

"There are those who want a woman who takes the upper-hand in the bedroom," I smiled. "There are rather less who are looking for fucking Ilsa, She-Wolf of the SS."

"Just 'cause you're such a wimp," she grumbled. "Letting women push you around."

"It's kind of part of the job," I replied.

We were going to start the show in about ten minutes. While Henrietta unpacked her gear in the dressing room I went to speak to the woman who had hired us. Sharon Sappho (clearly not the name she was born with) was a gorgeous, full-figured black woman in a leopard skin mini-dress with a low-cut top which showed off a huge expanse of breast.

"I run the site and I'm the principle photographer," she explained. "Don't be fooled by my last name. I'm no lesbian, but I have an image to support. I like photographing women. I have an eye for a sexy shot of two girls enjoying each other, but when I'm at home I like a nice hairy man between my legs." She brushed her hand across my deliberately cultivated five o'clock shadow.

"So, who's the lucky lady?" I asked, looking around at the room full of gorgeous young women.

"Lucky?" she asked. "Oh, you mean the one who's getting hitched. That's Maureen. She's the skinny blonde in the pink dress."

"So is anyone here a lesbian?" I asked.

"Gertrude and Keiko are," she explained. "So don't expect them to go drooling on your cock. The rest of them are pretty much into anything. I'm the only one who doesn't eat out at the Y."

When I got back to the dressing room and began getting into my costume - I already had my gold shorts on under my jeans - Henrietta was still in a bad mood.

"For ten years I've been studying Houdini's escape routines," she told me, for the umpteenth time. "I know how to re-enact every one of them. But does anyone want me to do that? No. They just want me to make your clothes disappear."

"I'm sure we can find some way for you to do that kind of act," I tried to reassure her. "But not in front of a bunch of horny women."

She just grunted as she put on her hat.

"Wow! You really keep everything in here!" I exclaimed, looking through her massive bag of tricks, once I had my coat on. There was a big fake saw, a giant sized pack of cards, a straight-jacket...

"That's one of my Houdini props," she explained, her mood lifting with the opportunity to talk about her main obsession. "See. If you tie the knots this way, someone from the audience can pull on them and they seem tight, but they can easily be undone by rubbing against the back of the chair."

"Ingenious," I declared.

Soon we were on stage and going through the boring magic part of the show. For me the fun began as my clothes came off. Unfortunately I can't tell you how we do that part of the act. It's a trade secret.

Once I was down to my shorts, the audience were going wild. Sharon in particular was whooping and hollering.

"Let's see your dick, you dirty boy!" she shouted, pulling down the front of her little dress on one side and shaking one of her massive mammaries at me. Even at that distance I could see that the nipple was stiff.

Finally, my shorts were gone in a puff of smoke. I grabbed the base of my ten-inches and swung it around like a plane propellor as I strode out into the audience. I knew that Sharon was going to get the bulk of my attention, but I had to make sure all the girls, except Gertrude and Keiko, got their share, especially the blushing bride-to-be.

I walked up to Maureen, who was indeed blushing, and pushed my swollen but still floppy cock down the cleavage of her dress. She giggled, pushed her small boobs together and licked my belly-button.

Feeling the skin of my cock brush slowly between the softness of her breasts caused it to stiffen somewhat. She grabbed it in her sweaty hand and planted a chaste kiss on its head.

When I turned around and saw that two of the girls, a short redhead and a brunette with lots of tattoos were staring at my cock and had their hands down each others panties, I became rampantly erect. Seeing girls get really turned on, thats what does it for me. I walked up to them and let them suck long and hard on my dick. Once their lips were finished with me they couldn't wait to lick the taste of my cock off of each other's tongues.

And so I worked my way around the room, enjoying the feel of hands and tongues on my rampant member. I deliberately left Sharon until last as I was determined to fuck her in front of all of her staff. And I really hoped I'd be able to get her as naked as myself. She might not be as used to showing off her gorgeous body as the models were, but I could tell she wanted to.

"It took you long enough," complained Sharon, as I sidled up to her.

"Just saving the best until last," I smiled.

"You ain't kidding," she chuckled, and then stuck out her long pink tongue and ran it up the length of my prick. She fondled my balls and sucked on my shaft like she was Lawrence of Arabia sucking on an ice-cold popsicle. She also fondled my arse cheeks. I don't know if she did that like Lawrence of Arabia or not.

"Have your employees ever seen you naked?" I asked, pulling her to her feet.

"No," she replied.

"Well, they are just about to," I grinned, as I slid the straps of her dress over her shoulders and set her lovely big boobs free.

"I don't mind being nude," she laughed. "Just as long as you take full advantage of me."

"Oh, I intend to," I reassured her. "Don't you worry about that."

Off came her dress and down came her panties. They were soaking wet. Without them, her shaven pussy was dribbling its excitement down the inside of her spread thighs. I walked around behind her and spanked her big brown ass cheeks, first with my right hand and then with my stiff prick.

"Fuck her like she fucked us on the last employee contract negotiations," yelled out Gertrude.

"Hey," cried Sharon, as I bent her down and slid my cock deep into her dripping wet pussy, "there's plenty more cunt-licking sluts where you came from."

"Just kidding, boss," chuckled Gertrude. "I'm jealous. I dream of doing you with a strap-on."

I don't think she was the only one who fancied the boss. Several more girls had pulled off their panties and were wanking as they watched me pound her pussy.

I looked briefly over at the stage were Henrietta was looking at her watch.

Sharon cried out and started quivering all over in a body-shaking orgasm. One of the rules of these kinds of shows is that everyone has to get to see the cum shot, so I pulled out, lay her down across a table and began jacking off. She grinned and licked her lips as she saw me sliding my hand up and down my cock.

"Oh, yeah, baby!" I screamed as I shot spurt after spurt of creamy cum all over Sharon's belly and boobs. Some of it even reached her lips, which she licked clean hungrily. She looked so beautifully wanton laying back with her legs spread, her wet pussy on display and her brown-skinned body splashed with puddles of white cum.

I was determined that the party wasn't going to end there though.

"Guess what?" I addressed the crowd, standing there with a string of jism dangling from the tip of my now wilting cock. "Henrietta fancies herself as a female Houdini. Who wants to see her escape act?"

Everyone seemed a little bewildered, especially Henrietta, but I had them in the palm of my hand.

Soon Henrietta as tied up in her straight jacket, sitting on a chair in the middle of the stage. I was still naked, as was Sharon, who was licking my cum off of her boobs.

"Henrietta will escape from her bondage within five minutes," I announced. "If she fails to do this in the required time she will be eaten by sharks... Hmmmm. Damn. No sharks.... Well, she has to escape or else. We'll leave it at that."

She writhed around in the chair for a moment and then looked at me with some annoyance.

"You've tied the knots the wrong way," she complained.

"Uh, uh," I shook my head with an evil grin. "I've tied the knots the right way, instead of the wrong way you wanted me to."

"I can't get out of this," she told me.

"I know you can't," I informed her. Then I bent down and unzipped her pants and pulled them off.

"What are you doing?" she cried.

"Getting my revenge for all the whining I've had to put up with from you this evening," I replied, grabbing the sides of her white Cottontail panties and pulling them off to reveal her pert pink cunt and landing strip of dark pubes.

"Well, ladies," I addressed the room. "It looks like the lovely Henrietta, who is a very lascivious lesbian, is completely at your mercy. She has a truly lovely cunt, and she tells me there's a rabbit up there somewhere. Does anyone feel like helping to find it?"

Keiko was the first up on stage. She got down on her hands and knees and shoved her face between Henrietta's legs and lapped away at her pussy.

"I'll get you for this, you prick!" Henrietta spat at me.

I knew that she liked to see hot naked women, so I made my way around the room, teasing all the rest of the girls out of their clothes. Most were happy to part with their attire in return for the opportunity to lick their boss's cunt-juice off of my cock. Soon all that sucking and the opportunity to fondle all those nude girls meant that my cock was once more rock hard.

Ten girls took turns to lick Henrietta's clit and finger her horny hole. She was deeply humiliated by her predicament. All the more so because she'd already had five orgasms and made a big puddle on the floor.

Then someone came up with the bright idea of laying her out so that one girl could lick her out and finger her while another could ride her face. Gertrude, who, along with Keiko, had stripped naked without any help or encouragement from myself, sat her lovely pink bottom on Henrietta's face and rubbed her cunt all over the poor woman's prominent nose. The molested magician licked out the juicy box which was drenching her pretty face in hopes that such a strategy would more quickly relieve her of its presence. But her strategy proved a poor one as, no soon did Gertrude squeal and squirt, than her place was taken by Maureen.

By the end of the evening, every girl except for Sharon had ravished Henrietta with her horny cunt. She was laying back exhausted and drenched in girl cum.

I walked over to Sharon and asked her if she thought she'd got her money's worth.

"You can say that again!" she exclaimed. "This show made my porn site seem positively tame."

I fondled her nude bum and she stroked my stiff cock while we made plans to meet up back at her place after the girl's had had their night on the town. She wanted me in her bed that night, and I couldn't think of anywhere else I wanted to be.

"I suppose I better set Henrietta free now," I smiled and walked back up onto the stage.

Henrietta is a gorgeous woman. I'd always fancied her. But, given her aversion to the masculine member, I had never thought I'd get to see her pussy.

"You can't honestly tell me you didn't enjoy that," I grinned cheekily. "Watching it certainly turned me on."

"You're a fucking arsehole," she grumbled.

"God you look gorgeous all trussed up like that," I leered. "What a lovely cunt you have."

My cock jerked up and down in its stiffness as I gently caressed her leg.

"Don't you dare!" she cried. "I don't do dick!"

"You're telling me," I responded. "It's me who has to do all the work."

I turned her over and untied the knots that held the straight-jacket secured. Then I turned her onto her back and deliberately held my stiff cock just about two inches away from her disgusted face as I pulled off the sleeves.

"Get that revolting thing away from me," she insisted.

"So what's it like to have the shoe on the other foot for a change?" I asked.

"O.K. So I came a few times," she huffed. "But I don't need any new fetishes. I'm perverted enough as it is."

"I think we both did well out of tonight. I'm hooking up with Sharon the pornographer later this evening," I told her with a smug grin.

"I wonder if we could come up with a new magic routine in which I saw your cock off on stage," Henrietta replied.

The End

The Indecent Descent : Wank Wednesday

Today's Wank Wednesday word is #cave. One thinks initially of cavemen or a pirate's cave. At least I do. But I've already done a caveman story and a pirate story. So I've decided to go for some sinisterly sexy spelunking. Wank Wednesday has moved. It is now hosted from Word Ejaculation. Check out that site for more information on this writing challenge and for links to all the stories.

The Indecent Descent

When Terence told the innkeeper that they were intending to crawl up Carnahan's Crack, the normally noisy patrons in the front bar of the Turd and Toadstool fell eerily silent and all eyes fell upon the trio of would-be subterranean explorers.

"Know ye not of the terrible tale of the fate of the eight," gasped the old man.

"No," replied Terence cooly, "do tell." He was a smarmy bastard.

Monty and Rosemary leaned close. They were nervous about the expedition to begin with. Monty had been cave-diving a few times, and his claustrophobia was not as severe has it had been at the start. But that was in tourist caves which had been thoroughly explored and mapped. Rosemary was Terence's wife. Like him she was in her mid-thirties and very fit. She had short mousey hair around her pretty wide-eyed face, small but well-formed breasts and a firm round arse. Monty fancied her rotten, but was too loyal to his friend, and to his own rather demanding (but non-cave-exploring) fiancée Margaret, to do anything about it.

"It were three year ago next Tuesday," continued Old Gruntwhistle, the publican. "Four men and four women there were. Experienced cave-divers by all accounts. They wriggled their way up through the tight entrance of Carnahan's Crack, one at a time, intending to explore the bowels of the Earth - the biggest network of caverns in all of England according to legend. They went in... but they never came out."

"What happened to them?" asked Rosemary anxiously.

"Nobody knows," pronounced the old man, drawing the words out so that they sounded like the wind whistling across a deserted moor.

"They probably didn't take proper precautions," said Terence. "I'm sure we'll be fine. I've been caving dozens of times. I know what I'm doing."

"There are those who say they ain't dead," Gruntwhistle added, looking around at his audience of petrified pub patrons. "There are those who say that ain't just a cave. There are those who say that Carnahan's Crack is the very gates of Hell itself. They be the one's what have heard them."

"Heard who?" Monty wanted to know.

"Heard the voices echoing out of the crack and up through the mine shafts about these parts. Not really voices so much as the howls and moans of the damned," he continued, poking Terence in the chest with a bony finger.

"I don't think I want to go any more," whimpered Rosemary.

"Me neither," Monty added.

"Stuff and nonsense," declared Terence. "Good for business in these parts, no doubt. Just like the Loch Ness Monster. Don't be taken in."

"It be no skin off my nose," huffed Gruntwhistle. "But you'll pay for last night's accommodation now. If you leave anything in your rooms I be happy to forward it to your next of kin. Just leave an address."

*           *           *

"We can't go in there after what that innkeeper said," complained Rosemary when, loaded down with packs and ropes, the trio arrived at Carnahan's Crack just after nightfall.

"I told you not to pay any attention to that old fool's ramblings," Terence replied testily.

"I think Rosemary's right," Monty put in. "We are only doing this for fun. And it isn't fun anymore."

"Well, I'm going in there anyway," insisted Terence. "If you two want to wait here for me you are welcome."

Monty and Rosemary looked around them. It was a new moon so there wasn't much light by which to see the trees of the forest. But amidst the shadows, red eyes shone out at them and they heard a low growl. Wolves.

"Maybe we could wait for you just inside the entrance to the cave," suggested Rosemary.

Carnahan's Crack was a crevice between two mighty boulders. There was a small round hole in the middle of the crevice by which one could wriggle up into a cave that was about two metres across. In the middle was the opening of a pit which dropped straight down into the earth. How deep it was was anybody's guess.

Terence was the first to push his way through the tight squeeze into the cave. Then Rosemary thrust her hands in and began to ease her way forward. She got part way in and then paused. Monty was looking nervously over his shoulder at the wolves when he heard Rosemary's voice. She was yelling to him, but  the sound didn't carry well back through the tight passage.

"I'm stuck," she cried. "You'll have to give me a push, Monty."

Monty put his hands on the lycra-clad cheeks of her round bottom and pushed. Rosemary moved through the passage and Monty's cock stiffened in his pants. That was going to make it harder for him to follow her through the tight space.

Thinking quickly Monty tied a length of rope around himself to keep his boner from becoming snagged on a rock. Then he stuck his head into the hole, worrying that, if he were not quick, the wolves might eat his legs.

Rosemary and Terence grabbed his arms and pulled him swiftly into the cave. The space was lit by Terence's powerful flashlight.

"So we'll wait for you here," said Rosemary. "Don't be long."

"Cowards," cursed Terence, tying a rope about his waist and then affixing the other end to a stalagmite.  "I told you I know what I'm doing. You'd be just as safe coming with me." Then he climbed over the edge and began making his way, hand over hand, down the side of the pit.

It was only two minutes later that the stalagmite broke, the rope snaked rapidly down the hole and Terence's girlish scream gradually faded away as he plummeted into the abyss.

"Fuck," cried Rosemary. "Now I suppose we'll have to try to rescue him."

"How are we going to do that?" asked Monty.

"You hold the end of my rope," Rosemary instructed. "I'll lower myself down."

All was going well until Rosemary reached the bottom of the pit and found that it opened into a giant cavern. Monty was able to hold her weight as long as it was lessened by her feet being propped against the side of the pit, but once she dropped into open air, he could no longer keep his balance and he fell head long down the hole.

Rosemary landed first and a short while later Monty came down on top of her. They landed on something soft and spongy. Terence's flashlight loomed up out of the dark to show them that they were sitting on the top of a giant mushroom.

"Spot of luck, hey!" exclaimed Terence, cheerfully.

"I don't know why you're so chipper," replied Rosemary angrily. "How are we supposed to get out? We'll die down here."

"We came for an adventure," he retorted. "And now we've got one. We'll find a way out. The old man mentioned mine shafts. Mine shafts often have ladders."

"I hope you're right," put in Monty nervously.

There were many passages leading out of the great cavern. They picked the one with the biggest entrance and followed it, Terence leading the way with his flashlight. Gradually the walls closed in around them until they could go no further.

"Dead end," pronounced Terence.

They turned around and went back.

Terence examined the openings of the other passages. One, which was very narrow, opened out after a few metres.

"We'll try this one," he said. And so they squeezed in after him.

For several hours they crawled through the tight space, the cold damp stone pressing in all around them. Then, finally, it opened out into another cave.

Terence scanned the area with his flashlight. Rosemary and Monty screamed at what they saw.

There, laid out carefully on the stone floor, were four skeletons.

"These must be the ones the innkeeper was talking about," cried Monty.

"But there were eight of them," pointed out Rosemary.

"The rest must be somewhere else," said Terence.

"Unless they are still alive," suggested a quaking Rosemary.

"Hogwash!" Terence exclaimed. "No-one could survive down here for three years."

Monty felt a tingle run down his spine and he looked nervously behind him.

Since this was another dead end, they made their way back to the large cavern and decided to eat some of their sandwiches and try to get some sleep.

Monty lay down on top of one of the giant mushrooms, with a flashlight beside him, and tried to sleep. But he was too anxious. Sleep wouldn't come. He could tell that Terence was not having the same problem because he could hear him snoring loudly.

Sleep did eventually wash over Monty, but he was awoken a couple of hours later by a blood-curdling scream. He grabbed his flashlight and flicked the switch. The beam of light shot up the pit down which they had fallen. He quickly scanned it around the walls of the cavern and was just in time to see Terence's horrified face disappearing down the passage they had last explored. He was being dragged feet first by someone or something.

Monty could sense something moving on the other side of cavern. He whipped the flashlight around and what he saw in its beam seriously creeped him out.

A skinny pale figure with tangled hair was watching him with big green eyes. It was a woman, a naked woman. At least, he could tell that it had once been a woman. Now it was something bestial. She had a face of haunting beauty, with eyes like glittering emeralds, but her mouth formed an idiot grin and she was drooling. As Monty moved the beam of the flashlight down her body he discover that she was crouched over a small, rather phallic, stalagmite and sliding her juicy cunt up and down its length.

"Rosemary," he cried. "I think we're fucked now."

But Rosemary was gone. He was alone with the creature.

She licked her lips and played with the stiff nipples on her nearly flat chest. And then she spoke.

"Precious want to fuck?" she hissed.

"Nothing personal," stammered Monty. "Must decline. Engaged you know."

"Precious gonna fuck," insisted the creature with an evil smile as she crawled on hands and knees across the cave floor.

"My God!" exclaimed Monty. "Is that the time? Must be off." But there was nowhere to go.

She leapt up onto his mushroom like a hairless monkey and the next thing he knew his clothes were being shredded by sharp teeth and long fingernails.

"Precious has cock," she hissed. "Sharon like cock."

Sharon, thought Monty. That was the name of one of the four women who went missing. So it was true. Not all of the eight were dead.

Monty was scared. He was scared stiff. All of his resolve flowed straight to his cock while the rest of him went limp.

Sharon's clit stood out prominently from between the hairless-lips of her pussy. She moaned as she rubbed it up and down the length of Monty's stiffness and dribbled pussy juice all over it. Once she had enjoyed this appetiser she applied herself to the main meal. She wrapped her bony hand around his throbbing cock and impaled herself on it. It was cold deep down there beneath the earth, but the inside of Sharon's cunt was as hot as a furnace.

"Precious has a nice hard cock," she hissed. "Long time no fuck. Pussy-licking not as good as fucking Precious."

Monty's brain ticked over. No cock. So the men had not survived. And she hadn't been licking her own pussy. So at least one of the other women had. But what had turned a normal woman into this thing?

Sharon had thrown her head back as she bounced up and down on his cock. She was pinching her nipples. Monty was surprised that, though she was quite skinny, her bottom as it sat down repeatedly on his thighs, was soft rather than bony. She might have been monstrous and sub-human but she was a hot little number all the same.

It didn't take her long to cum. A couple of minutes of rutting and she squirted a litre of pussy juice all over his cock and balls. But that didn't stop her. She just kept going. She went straight into another orgasm and another and another.

"Sharon's cunt love Precious," she hissed.

But Monty's stamina was not so great. After she had her tenth orgasm he couldn't hold back any longer and he jizzed in her juicy hole.

"Want more, Precious," she hissed, grabbing his floppy jissom-coated prick and slapping it back and forth.

"I'm all in," panted Monty.

"Want more!" insisted Sharon, anger possessing her features.

Monty improvised. He grabbed her, threw her down on his mushroom bed, and began wanking her off with three fingers.

"Want cock!" she insisted, petulantly, but she didn't put up any resistance.

"What made you like this?" asked Monty.

"Mushrooms," smiled Sharon. "Mushrooms delicious."

"You ate the mushrooms and they changed you?" asked Monty.

"Girls eat mushrooms. Guys see what mushrooms do to girls. Guys no eat mushrooms. Girls fuck guys. Guys die. Stupid guys," she explained.

"You fucked them to death?" cried Monty.

"Precious be smart," she hissed. "Precious eat mushrooms."

"Where are my companions?" he asked, as she quivered and squirmed and squirted over and over again, drenching his fingers in her hot juice.

"Don't know," she replied.

At that point another creature appeared from the passage into which Terence had disappeared. Another was behind her and as she emerged she dragged Terence's corpse behind her.

"He broke," the creature hissed sadly.

"Oh, my God!" cried Monty.

Then, out of another passage emerged the fourth creature, dragging Rosemary. Rosemary was stark naked and tied up with her own climbing ropes.

"Help me, Monty!" she cried. "She tied me up and did lesbian things to me!"

"Let her go!" Monty insisted to the three creatures as they squatted around the cavern drooling and masturbating and staring at him hungrily. "Fuck me to death if you must, but let the woman I love go free!"

"The woman you love?" queried Rosemary.

"I can hide it no longer," Monty insisted. "Though you loved another, my heart was ever yours."

"Just don't let them lick my hoo-hah any more," Rosemary pleaded.

"Eat mushroom!" ordered Sharon.

So Monty tore off a big piece from the side of the fungus on which he had been fornicating and shoved it into his mouth. It actually tasted surprisingly good.

Once he had swallowed it, Monty began to feel strange. An energy suffused his body, an over-whelming feeling of bliss possessed his mind and his cock got as hard as an iron bar.

"Coooooooorrrrrrrrrrr!" he groaned. "Precious want pussy."

He grabbed Sharon, flipped her over and started pounding her hard doggy-style, while pawing lustily at her tiny tits.

"Oh, Precious!" hissed Sharon.

Monty came hard, squirting quarts of cock-juice into the carnal cave-dweller's cunt. But his dick was still hard.

What was left of his mind wondered about freeing Rosemary. He hopped off the mushroom and crawled over to her.

I'd better untie these ropes, he thought. They probably hurt as they rub against her stiff pink nipples and push into the soft white flesh of her heavenly boobs. The way the rope rubs through the crack of her arse, right between the saucy cheeks of her spankable bum, chafing against her cute little wrinkled butt-hole and sliding roughly between the succulent lips of her cunt, must be uncomfortable, he reasoned. God he wanted to fuck her!

"What are you doing!?!" she screamed as he rubbed his cum-slippery hard cock all over her thigh. But there was nothing she could do. She was defenceless.

Monty crawled back over to the mushroom and grabbed another handful.

"Precious wants to fuck Rosemary," he hissed.

"You said you were going to let me go," she insisted, looking at him with pleading frightened eyes.

"Precious changed mind," he shrugged, pushing the handful of mushroom into her mouth.

Reluctantly she swallowed. Then he began untying her bonds. As he did, a profound change came over her.

When she was free, Rosemary smiled a big goofy smile, lay back, spread her legs and began happily wanking.

"Rosemary's a slut," she giggled. "Rosemary's always been a slut."

"Always?" queried Monty.

"Always," she insisted. "But now that I'm in the cave, I'm out of the closet." She pushed her left boob to her face and began happily sucking on the nipple.

"Precious wants his cock sucked," hissed Monty.

"Oh, Precious," Rosemary hissed back, crawling over to him and licking her soft wet tongue up the length of his rigid rod.

"One of us! One of us!" chanted the other girls. Monty thought of them as girls now, rather than as creatures. They all came in close for a group hug and grope and lick and fondle.

Monty realised that returning to the surface would be impossible now. The mushroom could sustain them, but it was addictive, he could tell. Controlling their sexuality was an impossibility now. He couldn't walk around with a permanent erection unable to keep himself from fondling and trying to fuck every woman in sight.

He knew that he would live out his life underground, but as he felt a sexy tongue licking his balls and another probing his butt-hole and felt wet pussies squirting their juices all over his body as they told him how much they loved "their Precious", he decided that he had no choice but to cave in to their demands and make the most of it.

The End

The Spy Who Came : Wank Wednesday

It's Wank Wednesday once more, and today the prompt word is #recipe. To find out more about this writing challenge, and to read the other contributions, check out Ruby Kiddell's Erotic Notebook.

The Spy Who Came

The year was 1955. The place - Louisville, Kentucky. Natasha Suckyanobov was on her most important, and potentially dangerous, mission yet.

It was the height of the Cold War, and Natasha was devoted to the cause of global Communism. There was no reason, she had been led to believe, why her people - the people of the Soviet Union - could not enjoy all of the benefits which were enjoyed by the citizens of western nations like the United States. It was her job to use her powers of seduction to liberate the information which would make this possible.

She was particularly good with accents. As she sat in the Purple Parrot Lounge, sipping a strawberry daiquiri, she chatted with the barman in a perfect southern accent.

At 8.17 her target entered the bar.

"How's it going, Harland?" enquired the barman of the distinguished gentleman with white hair, glasses and goatee.

"Mighty fine! Mighty fine!" he replied. "Give me the usual."

The barman poured out a double bourbon.

"Perhaps I could buy something for the lady, too," he suggested, with a naughty twinkle in his eye.

"Why, thank you kindly, good sir," drawled Natasha, as he sat down on the next barstool.

Well, one thing led to another and an hour later Natasha and the man referred to in official Soviet documents as "H.S." were back in her hotel room.

"So, are you one of the Lexington Sackville's?" H.S. asked.

"I'm the one they don't talk about," purred Natasha.

"I wondered why I hadn't heard about you," he told her, as he removed his trousers, to reveal a pair of baggy boxer shorts draped around a massive erection.

"Well, you are glad to see me," she smiled.

"A gentleman always stands for a lady," he replied, pulling down his boxers and giving her an eyeful of his bountiful boner.

Natasha was now standing in just her black silk bra and panties. In her underwear she was the spitting image of Betty Page.

"So are you really a military man?" she asked. "Because that's quite a weapon you have there." She walked over and ran her finger tenderly down the length of his cock.

"No," he replied. "My title is purely an honorary one."

Natasha sank to her knees and took H.S.'s cock in her mouth, licking and sucking on it hungrily. "Mmmmm, mmmmm," she sighed, popping it back out again. "Taste's delicious."

She stripped off her last garments and lay back on the bed with her legs spread.

"Come and get it," she smiled.

H.S. climbed up onto the bed and slid a couple of fingers deep into her wet pussy. He rubbed her clit at the same time with his thumb. And he kissed her passionately as he wanked her off. His beard tickled her chin.

"Oh, God! I'm cumming!" she cried, almost losing her accent in her ecstasy.

He pulled his fingers out of her cunt and licked the juice from them.

"Mmmmmm. Mmmmmm. Finger lickin' good," he sighed.

Then he pressed her back onto the bed so that her full breasts were squashed against his manly chest as he slid his cock home into her lubricated love lounge. Her cunt juice basted his balls as he began to pound her pussy long and hard with his pulsating prick which was also long and hard.

"Oh, yeah," she sighed. "Fuck me like a good member of the proletariat."

"I beg your pardon?" queried H.S., as he continued to probe her pussy with his prodigious member.

"Errr, I just said, 'Don't you love that TV show Ozzie and Harriet'," she stammered.

"You're a strange, but very sexy, woman," he declared. "Oh, yeah, honey chile, here it comes!" And with that he spurted several jets of hot spunk deep within the pussy of his secretly sinister lover.

That night he fell asleep in her arms, but he awoke to find himself tied spread-eagled to the bed. She was approaching him threateningly with a feather. He could stand anything but tickling. How did she know?

An hour later Natasha was communicating by radio with her bosses in Moscow.

"I have the secret recipe," she informed them. "Yes, that's right. All eleven herbs and spices."

The End

Falling Into the Cougar Cage : Wank Wednesday

It's Wank Wednesday once again and the prompt word is #cliff. I've resisted the temptation to write a story about Cliff Richard. For more information about this writing challenge as well as links to the other stories, check out Ruby Kiddell's Erotic Notebook.

Falling Into the Cougar Cage

Barney was eighteen years old and he was very unlucky. Apart from having to share his name with a really annoying purple dinosaur, he was a virgin. This might not have been a problem if he wasn't horny. But he was horny all the time. He had only to see a girl's round ass encased in a tight pair of jeans or firm young breasts bouncing bra-less beneath a t-shirt and his cock became rock hard. This made him very self-conscious. But he kept looking. And he longed to see more than just clothed girls on the streets. Of course he looked at magazines full of naked women. He could jack off to them all day. But he longed to see naked girls in the flesh. That is why he came up with his grand plan.

He might have been timid when it came to women, but he was a bit of a daredevil in other ways. He loved to go rock-climbing and he loved to hang-glide. A few miles from where he lived there was a nude beach over which towered a massive limestone cliff. He decided to hang-glide off of the cliff and glide over the beach so that he could get a bird's eye view of all those naked girls.

From the top of the cliff all of those girls looked like little white or brown ants. In fact he couldn't tell which of the little figures were men and which were women. But he grabbed onto the big kite and walked to the end of the precipice. He took a deep breath, and then he hurled himself forward out into the sunny afternoon sky. While it was a very hot day, thus ensuring that the beach was packed, it was a little windier than usual. Barney had to use all of his strength to guide himself in the right direction. He glided out over the sea and then circled back so that he could fly over the beach at a lower altitude.

Once he was gliding above the beach itself he found that its occupants were a very mixed bunch. There were a lot of fat old men whose leathery brown bellies hid their genitals just as well as clothes would have. And their were old women whose withered breasts hung almost to their knees. But there were also plenty of girls around his own age, of varying degrees of attractiveness it was true, but when he saw the gorgeous ones, with their firm bouncing breasts, jiggling bottoms and their bald or hairy pussies shamelessly displayed, it was all worth it. The feel of his dick sliding across the soft cloth of his briefs inside his denim shorts as it swelled and stiffened was almost enough to make him cum in his pants. Some of the girls even looked up and waved, just inviting him to feast his eyes on their delicious nakedness. This had definitely been a good idea.

But when a girl with a particularly lovely bottom bent down to pick something up so that her bum was presented directly towards him with just a hint of furry pussy peaking out, he forgot that he needed to start pulling up if he were to avoid crashing into the beach. At the last moment he pulled up sharply, but a freak wind lifted him and propelled him far over the local neighbourhood. At some point he was going to have to land, but where? Now he was above a patchwork of backyards and their accompanying houses.

Vesper from Girls Out West

There was a very large swimming pool. Now was his chance. He let go of the handle of his glider and fell into the water. The glider was whipped up by the wind, turned over and then landed on the roof of the house.

"It looks like someone has dropped in for a visit?" said one of three attractive women in their forties who chose this moment to walk out of the house and into the backyard with long drinks in their hands. All three were wearing brightly-coloured bikinis which showed off their tanned bellies and generous boobs.

"I'm sorry," Barney spluttered as he dragged himself from the water. "I lost control."

"We all know what that's like," chuckled the woman, a redhead in a hot pink bikini.

"You really must get out of those wet clothes," suggested a blonde wearing tropical print bathers.

"I'm Rebecca," put in a brunette in black, holding out her hand. Barney looked bewildered. He didn't take her hand, and he didn't take off his wet clothes.

"Brandi is my name," announced the redhead, "and randy is my nature."

"This is my home," the blonde informed him, "and my name is Sue."

"You look ridiculous standing there all wet and bedraggled like a half-drowned kitten," declared Brandi. "You're among friends. Take off the shorts and t-shirt. You can leave on your underpants if you are feeling shy."

"Awww, does he have to?" asked Rebecca with a wink.

Reluctantly Barney pulled his t-shirt off of his well-formed six pack and unzipped and pulled off his shorts. He was very much aware of the fact that his wet black hipsters did nothing to hide the shape of his currently flaccid cock.

"I'll go get you a drink," said Sue. "And I won't even ask to see your I.D."

"Well, we can see everything else," smiled Brandi, looking very directly at the front of Barney's underpants.

Sue came back with a tall glass filled with an orange coloured drink. It had a lemon slice and a paper umbrella. Barney sipped it and realised that it was very strong.

While Barney was distracted by tasting his drink, Brandi came up behind him and yanked down his underpants. He went bright red and quickly covered his dick with his free hand.

"He's so shy," Brandi chuckled, while groping his bare ass.

"I'd almost think he was a virgin," Rebecca told her, "if I didn't know that they were an extinct species."

"I'm not a virgin," Barney replied. "I've banged lots of chicks."

"You like sex, do you?" asked Sue, sidling up beside him and stroking his face.

"I love it!" he declared proudly.

At this point the three women simultaneously reached behind them, unclipped their bikini tops and shrugged them off. Their big soft boobs hung low, the previously unexposed areas pale compared to the tan elsewhere. Then they hooked their fingers into their bikini bottoms and pulled them down their legs. Rebecca and Sue had their pussies shaved bare, while Brandi sported a well trimmed area of flaming pubes.

Sidney at  AllOver30.com

"If you love sex so much," purred Sue, "you'll be absolutely crazy about having a foursome with a trio of sex-crazed cougars."

"That's disgusting!" cried Barney. "You're old! You're even older than my mother."

"So you don't like older women, hey?" queried Sue, while gently nibbling on his earlobe and rubbing her bare pussy against his hip.

"No," Barney replied.

"You're dick's telling us otherwise," said Rebecca in a sing song voice as she pulled his hand away from his cock to reveal that it was now standing fully erect.

"Traitor!" cried Barney to his erection. He put down his drink and gave his cock a hard slap. "Ouch! Fuck!" he screamed, hopping up and down.

"I'm afraid we can't let you do that sort of thing to your cock," Sue informed him. She pulled his hands behind his back. Brandi brought over her bikini top and together they used it to tie Barney's hands together.

"We're members of the SPCP," she informed him. "The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Penises."

"Yes," added Rebecca, "you'd be surprised at the number of penis owners who mistreat what should be their best friend. They squeeze their penis into extra tight pants. And with so many guys, if we don't keep an eye on them, they start beating their meat."

"And it isn't just what they do to them," Brandi explained. "Oh, no, no, no... Deprivation is a big problem to. If we left you to your own devices you would deprive your cock of the joys we want to bestow upon it. That, my little virgin friend, would be cruelty."

"I told you, I'm not a virgin," Barney insisted.

"Cougar's know how to trust their instincts," Brandi told him. "If you weren't a virgin our mouths would not be watering as much as they are at the thought of sucking your cock."

"The first time you have your cock sucked, you want to have it done by an expert," Rebecca informed him. He looked over at her and found that she was sliding two of her fingers in and out of her cunt which was dripping its juices all down her legs.

"How do we decide who goes first?" asked Sue.

"It's your home," said Brandi, reasonably. "You go first, then Rebecca and then me."

"She wants to make sure she's the one who gets a mouthful of spunk," laughed Rebecca.

Sue crouched down between Barney's legs and sucked on his balls, then she licked up the underside of his shaft which was leaking pre-cum onto his belly from its head. She licked up some of the slippery liquid and then slipped her lips over the head of his cock and swallowed it down her throat. The other two were watching closely while squatting down on either side and enthusiastically fingering themselves.

The other two took turns in sucking his cock.

"Oh, God!" he exclaimed as he filled Brandi's warm wet mouth with jets of creamy jism. She pulled her mouth off of his softening cock and then opened it up wide so that he could see her tongue all covered in his love juices.

"If you promise not to run away or do violence to your penis, I'll untie you," Sue informed him.

"O.K.," Barney replied. "I really don't want to run away now. This feels wrong, but in a good way."

So Sue untied him and they sat around chatting and sipping their drinks. Each of the women had her legs spread and was playing with herself as they socialised. Occasionally one would have to pause in her conversation to let out a moan of orgasm.

"You really don't want to squeeze a large cock like yours into a young woman's very tight vagina," Rebecca lectured him. "What he wants is to be stroked by the tender caress of an older pussy which is juicier and less constricting."

And indeed, by the end of the afternoon he had not only fucked all of their wet and tender pussies, but also Brandi's tight butt-hole. (Which just goes to show that the ladies were somewhat hypocritical in their views on putting cocks in tight places.)

"Take this," Sue told him, after he had dressed and gathered up the remains of his hang glider. She handed him a little black book.

"What's this?" he wanted to know.

"It has our phone numbers and addresses and also those of all the other 108 members of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Penises," she explained. "If, at any time, you feel that you might be in danger of mistreating your penis, ring one of these numbers and help will shortly be at hand."

The End