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

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

Bare-Assed Baywatch : Wank Wednesday

It's storytime once again. Today's Wank Wednesday prompt word is #buoy. For more information on this writing challenge, and to find the other stories, check out Ruby Kiddell's Erotic Notebook.

Bare-Assed Baywatch

"She can give me mouth-to-pussy resuscitation any time she wants," purred Sandy as she looked up at the tanned and busty lifeguard who was sitting at the top of a watch tower a few metres behind us wearing nothing but a bright red bathing cap and scanning the sea with a large pair of binoculars.

"Damn, did you have to say that," I complained.

We were at the nude beach, sunning ourselves beneath the lazily circling gulls, the sea gently caressing the sand in front of us and the wind softly teasing our pubes.

I'd had to learn a special kind of mental discipline for occasions like this. I'd had to learn to block all thoughts of sex from my mind, lest the sight of swinging boobs and wiggling bums and cute little pussies, some bare as a bald man's head and others as hairy as hamsters, cause my wee willie winky to transform into Bonerman. Sharks aren't the only kind of white pointers that strike panic into the hearts of nude beach patrons.

Looking over at Sandy, pushing back her long blonde hair, and grinning a grin that was the universal sign language for "Please fuck me" as she pointed down at the yellow cornsilk that surrounded her pink Percy-gobbler, there was no way the levee was not going to break, flooding my mind with images of fucking and sucking, bum-spanking and boob-squeezing, and causing my cock to swell and stiffen like an inflating balloon animal.

"Meat missile in the launching position," giggled Sandy when she had finished ogling the lifeguard and turned back to me. She gently placed her finger on the head of my cock and pushed it down. When she let go it sprang back to attention and quivered like a tuning fork.

"I'll be in trouble if anyone sees it," I told her. "I better get into the water and cool off."

"I'll join you," she replied.

As I ran down toward the water, with my cock swinging back and forth stiffly like a conductor's baton, a slim young redhead with firm breasts was rising from the water and coming in to the shore. Droplets of water ran down over her pink nipples, stiff from the cool water, over her firm belly with its cute little button, and ran in a river from the fiery forest of pubes that sprang from between her lithe and lean thighs. One look at me advancing upon her with my generative organ rampant and she screamed and ran off down the beach. I tried to tell her I was sorry as I watched her soft pink bottom jiggle away from me, but the sight was just not helping and what came out of my mouth was not intelligible.

"Scaring young women," Sandy scolded as she ran up beside me. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself."

"Me!?!" I cried. "You started it. It was your dirty fantasies about the lifesaver chick which turned Mr. Floppy into Mr. Stiffy."

By now the water was about our waists and the offending appendage was no longer on public display. It wasn't getting any softer though. The invigorating coldness of the water against its heat just made it all the more achingly rigid. Sandy pushed her soft body up against me and began stroking my cock with her right hand.

"It's not safe to bring you to the nude beach," she giggled. "You're too much of a perve."

"It's just not fair," I pointed out. "I'm sure you popped a little girl boner over that lust-inspiring lifesaver lass, but you can get away with it, because it isn't obvious." I reached down below the water and, sure enough, discovered that Sandy's clit was stiff too. It was no surprise that her pussy was wet, but it was slippery with more than water.

"Sounds like you're suffering from pussy-envy," she laughed.

"Very funny, Miss Freud," I replied, "but what are we going to do. I suppose we could have a wank here in the water before going back to the beach."

"No," she decided, looking out to sea. "Let's swim out to that buoy and fuck. With that to hang onto, I'm sure we can manage it."

I'm not all that fit, and it was a long swim, but the prospect of sliding my cock into Sandy's sweet juicy little pussy in such a public place was enough to drive me on as I dog-paddled for all I was worth.

Eventually we arrived at the buoy, a little yellow metal tower with some kind of warning sign on it that was floating on a round raft-like base and bobbing in the tide. From the beach we would have been almost invisible. I was sure we would be able to copulate without drawing attention to ourselves.

"We'll have to do it doggy-style," Sandy explained, throwing her arms around the buoy and pulling herself up higher in the water. "Or should we call it 'porpoise style'?"

"Sure beats patting the porpoise," I laughed as I pulled myself up behind her, feeling my sensitive stiff prick slide over the wet skin of her bottom.

"Don't put it in the wrong hole," she warned.

"I thought you loved it that way," I replied.

"I do," she explained. "But my bottom-hole is very tight, and if you get your willy stuck up there we won't be able to swim back to shore and we'll drown."

"Good point," I agreed, grabbing hold of the legs of the tower and lifting myself so that my cock slid smoothly into Sandy's slippery pussy.

"Nothing like feeling the Good Ship Lollycock sailing into Pussy Harbour," she sighed.

I pulled myself up and down and she pushed her arse back against me. It wasn't the most comfortable way to fuck, but it did the job.

"I just hope some shark doesn't come along," I panted as my hot stiffness slid in and out of Sandy's twitching cunt and the cool water swirled around us.

"At least he won't be able to bite off your dick," giggled Sandy.

Lifting myself up out of the water over and over again with Sandy's delectable bottom slapping wetly against my belly was giving me quite a workout. I was puffing and panting before too long. But I was as horny as a brass band and our unusual location brought on a tremendous adrenaline rush. The water was churning up around us like a scene from Piranha.

It came as quite a shock when we suddenly found we were not alone.

"You really shouldn't come out this far," yelled the lady lifesaver who had been the unknowing catalyst for the whole adventure. "But don't worry, I can save you. Just don't panic."

The next thing I knew her nude body was pressed up against my back. She had lovely big soft boobs with stiff little nipples like pencil erasers.

"I'll have to take you one at a time," she explained, pulling me back off of Sandy.

"Anything you say, Miss," I responded, deciding that it was best to cooperate lest she discover what we were really doing.

She had one arm under my right arm and across my chest. Her other hand came around the other side and collided with my rampant cock.

"Oh, I see," she said sternly. "You were too far out and not waving or drowning, but fucking."

"We were just looking for a bit of privacy," explained Sandy.

"Well, it's not allowed," pointed out our would-be rescuer. "My name is Hester. I'm the only lifeguard on  duty at the moment, so you'd better hope nobody drowns in the next twenty minutes or it will be all your fault."

"We could swim back by ourselves," I suggested.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," she insisted. "You might escape."

"Escape?" queried Sandy.

"That's right," Hester told her. "You are both under citizen's arrest for lewd and lascivious behaviour in a public place."

"It's not all that public," Sandy pleaded. "The only reason you could see us was because you had binoculars."

"I'm not the only one with binoculars," Hester responded. "There is a whole bunch of guys who hide up on the cliffs. They have binoculars too."

"Sounds like maybe you should be arresting them," I said.

"Outside my jurisdiction," she explained. "I deal only with what happens in the water."

"Well, I suppose we have no option but to surrender," I sighed.

"I won't be able to lead you up the beach in this state, though," she mused, stroking my submarine stiffy.

"Maybe we could finish what we were doing and then you could arrest us," suggested Sandy, hopefully.

"I can't let you do anything illegal," Hester declared.

"I could have a wank," I told her.

"Still illegal," she pointed out. "There is only one course of action open to me. Much as it disgusts me, I'm going to have to masturbate you myself."

"I beg your pardon!?!" I exclaimed.

"Then neither of you will be engaging in sexual activity," she explained. "Your role will be passive not active. And it won't be sexual activity for me, as I will take no pleasure in it. I hope that you will try not to also. Remember this is nothing personal."

"I'm sorry," I replied. "I'm only human. Having a sexy girl like yourself wank me off is something I'm incapable of not enjoying."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," she warned me. "I'm going to get you off, but I'm not going to let you off."

By now she had a firm grip on my cock and was sliding the loose skin up and down. I could still feel her  stiff-nippled boobs pressed into my back and every so often her wiry pubes brushed against my bum.

Sandy let go of the buoy and swam up behind Hester.

"Stop stroking my bottom!" Hester ordered. Sandy just giggled.

"I bet you didn't know you started all of this," Sandy informed her.

"What do you mean?" asked Hester as she continued to stroke my stiffness.

"Patrick only popped a boner because I told him I was fantasising about you giving the kiss of life to my cunt," she explained.

"I may have my hands full," Hester threatened. "But if you don't take your finger out of my bum, I'll fart on it."

"Please, Sandy," I pleaded. "Don't make things worse for us by sexually molesting an emergency worker."

"O.K. I'll stop playing with Hester's bottom," huffed Sandy. "But it's O.K. for you. At least your getting wanked off. I'm still horny."

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" I cried out as the jism spurted out of the end of my cock and floated to the surface like a Man-o-War jellyfish.

"You wait here," Hester told Sandy. "I'll be back shortly."

Then she got me to put my arms around her neck and we swam to shore with her bare bottom pressed tenderly against my belly.

My body felt heavy as we rose from the shallow water and trudged up the beach. Everyone was staring.

"I'm going to lock you in here," Hester told me, and she pushed me into a storage room in the lifesaving club. I sat down at the table in the middle of the room and waited.

About twenty minutes later the door opened and Hester came in leading Sandy.

"My replacement is here now," Hester explained. "So I'll be able to wait with you until the police arrive."

"Are you really going to hand us over to the police?" asked Sandy nervously.

"I might," Hester threatened. "If you aren't good to me."

"Good to you?" I wanted to know.

"Well, I have to do the right thing in public, and when I'm on duty," she explained. "Apart from wanking you off, Patrick. That was very naughty of me. And I did enjoy it. My cunt got all gooey feeling your stiff cock in my hand. And knowing that it was thinking about me that made it that way in the first place. That's true isn't it? You weren't just trying to get off lightly?... er... so to speak."

"No, that was true," smiled Sandy. "I saw you sitting up on your lifeguard tower all nude but for your cute little cap and I started fantasising that you would pull me out of the water and revive me by parting my thighs and applying your lips and tongue to my cream-dripping cunt." As she said this she reached down and began masturbating leisurely.

"Well," chuckled Hester, walking over to her. "CPR is the more conventional method for reviving people. I won a prize for my CPR."

"For your Cock Provoking Rear?" I suggested, coming up behind her and fondling the soft cheeks of her bottom.

"No, silly!" she smiled. "Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation. For getting people's hearts started."

"Your rear could get my heart started again," I told her. "I'm sure of it." And then I spanked that part of her anatomy with my newly stiffening cock.

"Well, I'm almost as good at pussy-sucking as I am at CPR," Hester bragged. "So I think I can make your dream come true. My only condition is that I get fucked while I do it."

"You drive a hard bargain," I said sternly as I pushed her head down between Sandy's spread legs and slid my cock deep into her cunt.

"She's not kidding," swooned Sandy. "I think my pussy's died and gone to heaven."

"I'm not there yet," I replied, as I watched Hester's soft brown butt-cheeks jiggle in time to my pussy-pounding, "but I can see it from here."

Some time later, Sandy started quivering and quaking and curling her toes. I slammed my cock one more time into Hester's pussy and coated it liberally with spunk as she squirted all over my cock and balls like she was pissing herself. Sandy cried out in ecstasy and fell off of her chair.

"You know it is a real hassle when people misbehave at the nude beach," Hester told us after we had regained our composure and were sitting at the table having a casual chat. "If you want to sunbathe nude, and you don't think you can trust yourselves, come over to my place and lay out in the backyard. If it's my day off that is."

"That's very kind of you," Sandy smiled.

"But I have to warn you," she explained seriously. "They don't call me Hester the Molester for nothing. Working here at the nude beach, seeing spunky guys with their cocks out and hot gals in the all-together makes me very frustrated. When I'm on my own I spend most of my time molesting myself. But if I have company, I don't take "no" for an answer. Cocks get sucked, pussies get licked, and faces get ridden by my salty wet cunt until they get bathed in a tsunami of twat-juice. But don't worry, I'm a lifesaver, I won't let you drown."

The End