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It fit her well, but she complained that it ‘felt weird’, and wouldn’t
wear it again. He never dared to bring up the topic again.

After they stopped seeing each other, he resigned himself to a lonely
life of masturbation and fantasies.

Attending tonight’s Hallowe’en party was a half-hearted attempt to get
out and see the local nightlife. He’d noticed, over the last few years,
a subtle trend toward a ‘trashy and flashy’ look in fashion, and had
begun to have hopes of finding a lover who shared his tastes. He had
debated for hours what to wear to the party, balancing the requirements
for a costume against his desire to “come out” in something kinky. In
the end, he settled on renting a Spanish toreador outfit worn with his
own black rubber knickers, and a simple domino mask.

It took all his courage to wear the pants, too.

But as he pulled the stretchy, shiny latex over his legs, he realized
it didn’t matter what people thought, tonight was Hallowe’en! Tonight
was the one night he could wear anything at all without fear of
ridicule or outcry. He revelled in the tight, smooth feel of the
rubber jeans. To hell with it, he thought, I’m going to enjoy myself
tonight!

At the party, which was hosted by a local radio station, he was greeted
by a delightful array of leather dresses, spandex pants and skirts, and
other sexy costumes. But as he danced with various partners in turn,
he realized that to these nervously laughing people, they were just
costumes, and none of them would likely wear such things to the
office. There was no lack of spandex, plenty of cheap imitation
leather, and a fair amount of real leather, but not one bit of rubber
was to be seen. Eventually, he sat down at the bar to rest and console
himself with a drink.

Now, after two stiff scotches, he had become positively soggy with
nostalgia. So, as he sat sweltering in his sweaty costume, feeling
utterly alone in his perversion, he was overwhelmed to see two women
walk in, wearing what appeared to be mostly rubber costumes. And what
costumes! The first to enter, a tall redhead with an impossibly
exaggerated hourglass figure, was wearing what looked like a cross
between a form-fitting jacket and a corset, made of black patent
leather. She possessed the smallest waist he had ever seen. Below
that, a skin-tight glossy hobble-skirt flared around her ample hips,
compressing her legs together from waist to knee. Judging from its
smooth, shiny texture and its fluid movement as she walked, it was made
of thick latex rubber. On her legs, she wore knee-length boots with
six-inch heels, that laced all the way up.

Her companion, a shorter brunette, was dressed in a classic french
maid’s uniform, complete with white doily, except that her uniform was
made entirely of rubber. She had on long black latex stockings with
lace garters showing just under the hem of her skirt. His eyes grew
wider.

On her feet were a pair of cruel looking patent leather ankle boots
with 6- inch spike heels, and heavy ankle straps attached to each other
with a sturdy little chain.
…End of the part8. To be continued..

After waiting several more minutes, she found herself being hoisted
into the air, bumping gently against Jason’s body. She rejoiced,
knowing what was to come.

Jason too, got the harness put back on him after his woman-suit was
removed, but he also got something else. He jerked and tried to refuse
the groping hands, but there was nothing he could do after an annoyed
Dodds manacled his wrists behind his back. The strong hands fastened
something tight, that felt like leather, around his cock and balls.

Something else, that felt like cuffs, were strapped just below his
knees. He felt a gentle pull on his scrotum, and when the fumbling
stopped, the “something”, some kind of little harness apparently, was
still there, constricting his cock and stretching his sack out almost
unbearably.

He felt himself getting very hard, and the sense of constriction and
stretching became even tighter.

Then he too, received the hot oil treatment, and squirmed helplessly as
the unseen hands stroked his now rock-hard member. Soon he felt his
feet leaving the floor, and his greasy body bumping and sliding against
Flora’s.

Mr. Dodds wiped his hands on a rag, and with a few shoves and tugs, he
traversed the winch until Flora and Jason were directly over the well.

Pressing the controls again, he lowered them until their feet began
forcing their way into the tight rubber lining of the well…
Jason squirmed, and felt Flora squirming against him, as their feet
touched something soft, slimy, and at first, cold. It quickly warmed
to their body temperature though, as it slipped up their legs to their
thighs. Whatever it was, it pressed firmly against their oiled bodies,
squeezing them together. Jason assumed that this was the well that he
had glimpsed in the center of the room. As it enveloped them further,
passing their thighs and hips, Jason imagined the two of them being
sucked into an enormous vagina.

Soon, the squishy warmth had swallowed them up to their necks and for a
moment, Jason fought panic, unwilling to have his head consumed as well.
But reason prevailed, and he told himself that the air hissing into the
tight-fitting helmet must be coming from a compressor of some kind.
His air supply was safe.

With a slight lurch, the two of them slid all the way into the tight,
slippery well, the warm rubber walls pressing them closely together.
Then a new sensation presented itself. The walls began to move, with
slow, strong undulations. Outside, Mr. Dodds had turned on the water
jets of the jaccuzi, and the rotating streams pulsed against the pair
inside.

Jason smiled inside his helmet, reveling in the sensations of Flora’s
slippery breasts and belly pressed against his, the rubber walls
squeezing their tired bodies in a soft yet insistent massage. It wasn’t
long before he was frowning however, as he came to understand his
predicament. With his hands bound behind him, there was very little he
could do to enjoy their situation, and he soon discovered that Flora was
in a similar fix when he felt her rigid mittens groping about his body.
It felt nice to have her caress him, but the mittens were scratchy and
hard, and did not feel particularly sensual. Flora could not grasp him,
nor could he hold her, and he was soon near to screaming with
frustration, his erect cock slithering helplessly against her belly.

Dodds wins another round, he thought.

But after a few minutes of frustrated groping, he felt Flora’s leather
…End of the part78. To be continued..

“Look, mate,” Jason announced, as soon as his mouth was unplugged,
“I’ve had just about enough of your little games… when are you going
to leave us alone?” Mr. Dodds looked startled, as Jason ranted on.

“What gives you the right to come barging in here, take over Mandy’s
household, and treat us all like your personal sex slaves?”

Mr. Dodds looked amused for a moment. “First of all, Mandy IS my
`personal sex slave’, and since Flora belongs to Mandy, she is too is
mine to do with as I please. She has told Mandy many times that she
would give herself to another if Mandy ordered it, and especially if
Mandy watched. Although, I doubt this is exactly what she had in
mind. If you don’t believe me, you are free to ask Flora yourself,
as-if-and -when I decide to let her out of her present predicament.

“Secondly, I’d assumed when I found you in YOUR predicament, that you
were also a new acquisition of Mandys, since you certainly seemed to be
enjoying yourself.”

Jason blushed to his hairline.

“Third,” Dodds ticked off on his fingers, “I AM a reasonable man.
Since I didn’t ask you, and you didn’t ask me, you certainly should be
given the option to choose whether this is the sort of life you want to
lead. But I’ll warn you! If you decide to leave now, in the heat of
anger, I can predict that not only will you never be bothered by me,
you will never see Mandy or Flora again, either. Believe it or not,
some of the things we do here are unlawful in this state. It’s worse
back in England!

“Our kind are a secretive lot, and given the rather medieval laws in
this country, we can’t risk someone running out and calling the
newspapers, now can we? If I were to let you go, Mandy might be very
unhappy, but she would in all likelihood, move, despite her comfortable
little mansion here, and as I said, you would never see her again.

He paused, looking reflectively at Jason for a moment. “I assume,” he
added, “since you are here, and since Mandy generally prefers women,
that there is something special between you?”

Jason looked sullen, but nodded. Mr. Dodds continued. “So. Just to
be sure things are as everyone would have it, I will give you the
option. Stay here, subject to Mandy’s or my absolute rule, and live in
decadent, submissive pleasure, free of any cares, for as long as you
like. Or leave now, all pissed off, and let the rest of us get on with
our lives in whatever manner we wish!”

He stopped and looked patiently at Jason, waiting for an answer.

Jason was in a quandary. While he had resented Mr. Dodds invasion on
what had been shaping up to be his ultimate dream (complete with two
bisexual, rubber-loving women, a statiscal impossibility). He also
realized that Mr. Dodds had been responsible for many interesting hours
spent in the same bondage and stimulation that he had begun to enjoy at
the hands of Mandy since he arrived.

He knew, sooner or later, that this mysterious stranger (well okay, a
friend of Mandys) would depart, and hopefully, things would return to
“normal”.

He thought of his life before Mandy; the long, lonely years spent
alone, the abortive attempts at dating and the sick feeling he had had
when one lover had called him perverted for wanting her to wear a
rubber dress.

He realized that despite Mr. Dodd’s intrusion and bizarre bondage
performances, he was happier here than he had ever been alone. He
…End of the part72. To be continued..

Jason blinked and said, “Uh, I was just leaving.”

Sometimes, he thought heading for the other end of the bar, discretion
is the ONLY part of valor.

As the saddening memories of his lost love returned, Jason hailed the
bartender, who had been replaced by a six-foot tall pink elephant, and
ordered another shot of the Macallan. Wistfully, he thought about that
first night of blazing hot sex, of exploration and learning. He
remembered that at one point, Mandy had been lying back, knees in the
air, while Jason, his hands lifting her ass, lapped and sucked hungrily
at her pussy. Essentially they were waiting for Jason’s plumbing to
recover before having at it again. Mandy had suddenly lowered her
legs, tucking her ankles into his armpits, and pulled her skirt down
around his head. When he started to back out to see what was wrong,
she urged, “No, keep going,” and pulled him to her with her ankles.
Jason, his head squeezed between her muscular thighs and the tightly
stretched skirt, his nose assaulted by her strong musk and the aromatic
scent of the rubber, set to with renewed vigor, and soon found his tool
hardening again. It had been an incredible night, and he had learned a
few new skills, too.

>From that day forth, he had developed a special affinity for Mandy’s
style of dress: high heels, tight fitting, yet revealing jackets and
blouses and skin tight dresses.

His lover had quite a few sexy outfits, including several made from
leather, or shiny, stretchy plastic, and a purple latex sheath dress
that looked as if it were painted on. He especially liked the look and
feel of the rubber outfits. She even had a pair of black bicycle
shorts made of latex that she insisted he try on. The unique, clingy,
slightly restrictive sensation had made him instantly hard, and when
she rubbed up against him in her purple rubber dress, he surprised them
both my suddenly coming in his pants.

The smooth, stretchy material seemed to be the ultimate in second skin,
emphasizing the shape of the body, smoothing imperfections, and even
offering a kind of isolating protection from the weather. He looked
everywhere for items made of it, but to no avail. To be sure, latex
dresses and rubber pants were shown off on perfect bodies in various
fashion magazines from time to time, but all he found locally were
rubber kitchen gloves.

Finally, he asked Mandy where she had gotten her rubber items. “Why,”
she giggled, “do you want a dress for yourself?”

“No,” he lied, “I think I prefer rubber dresses on you. I thought I’d
get you something new, but I can’t find anything.”

“Oh, my dad bought some of it for me when he was in New York, I don’t
know what store. Then I found mom looking through a catalog from some
British company, and I just asked her to order some things for me,
too.”

Jason had wondered what sort of parents bought teir daughter rubber
miniskirts, but kept his thoughts to himself.

For seven months, they were inseperable, despite the accusations from
his mother that Mandy “looked like trash” in her wild, sexy outfits.
When Jason told his mom who Mandy’s parents were, and what neighborhood
they lived in, that was the end of that.

He did finally get to meet Mandy’s parents, and received several clues
about Mandy’s maturity and free lifestyle. Both parents were highly
paid professionals, mom a mathematician for an engineering firm, and
dad a nursing instructor for a local university hospital. They were
…End of the part6. To be continued..

She hoped for this “Mr. Dodds” sake that he either had Mandy’s
permission, or that he left before she got home. Although she didn’t
usually think of her as a cruel person, Mandy was not someone you
wanted to have genuinely mad at you.

Mr. Dodds covered Flora with a plain silk bath robe, and led her away
up the stairs. He stopped at the bar and fixed her a brandy,
commanding her to drink it.

“It will help you calm down, perhaps you can get some rest,” he said.

Flora had no intention of resting until she got to the bottom of this
little mystery, but she swallowed obediently, in order to seem
unthreatening. She coughed a little after, unaccustomed to the burning
nectar, and then docilely allowed him to lead her to her room. He
tucked her in, between soft satin sheets, and left her room. Flora had
intended to get up and about as soon as Dodds left her alone, but
suddenly, she felt very tired, her arms and legs leaden, and she
realized that she had been drugged. Already, the soporific that Dodds
had dosed her brandy with was making her drowsy, and Flora was soon
fast asleep, unaware of the clicks of the key turning in the lock.
-=*=-

When she awoke, she lay still a moment, trying to remember where she
was. There was a sour taste in her mouth, and the smell of leather
filled her nostrils. Her head felt tight, and her mouth cottony and
full, as if she’d been drinking. When she remembered the events of
that morning, she made to get up, to look for Jason and Mandy, but- she
couldn’t! She couldn’t move a muscle, literally. Her entire body felt
clamped in a hard, immovable shell.

She realized then that her eyes were actually open but she couldn’t see
a thing. What’s happened to me? she thought. She forced herself to
calm down.

When she tried to move her head again, she realized that she had been
put into bondage again, but what bondage!

Mentally, she took stock of her senses. She could feel a stiff, form-
fitting leather helmet laced tightly around her head. The fullness in
her mouth was a soft gag which tasted of leather. Although she had
been wearing discipline helmets on occasion for years, this struck her
as odd, as she was certain that all of Mandy’s were made of rubber.

Nonetheless, helmets she could handle, they were part and parcel of her
bondage games with Mandy, and she enjoyed them. Nor was it the first
time she had woken up to find that she had been restrained while
asleep, but this incredible sense of rigidity…

She began to panic again. Never in her entire life, including two
years under the tender ministrations of Mandy, had she felt as trapped
as this. Even when tied tightly with yards of rope, or laced into a
leather body binder, or hugged in the firm embrace of Mandy’s
inflatable ‘meditation bag’, it had always been possible to move
slightly. Now she couldn’t wiggle even a finger! But… she flexed
her muscles again, breathing slowly to calm her self. Okay, she could
feel her muscles flex, she wasn’t paralyzed.

She took the freedom of movement in her head as a good sign as well,
and slowly realized she was in no immediate danger. She heard some
scratches and a click and then heard the door open. Well, she thought,
I’m not in any of Mandy’s helmets- she usually either uses the ones
…End of the part56. To be continued..

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But soon she had troubles of her own as the treadmill began to move.
She was carried backward until a nasty shock reminded her of the cattle
prods affixed to the rear frame. She strutted forward, following the
movement of the treadmill. Sealed between the tight rubber corselet
and her body, the K-Y jelly was still there, keeping her skin
well-lubricated, and her nipples became fully erect after only a few
strides.

Here we go again, she thought.

Mandy walked between them and said, “Well, I have some shopping to do,
so you kids enjoy yourself. I’ll be back in a few hours!” She
…End of the part196. To be continued..

So. All of… THIS has come about because last night, I gave an order
to Flora.

She was not to touch you, Jason, until I permitted. It was a simple
demand, and easy to follow, but one she chose to ignore. And YOU,
Jason, showed rather poor manners in allowing her into your bed, having
just met your first love for the first time in many years. Both of you
…End of the part191. To be continued..

Jason was relieved. He realized that for the moment, he was safe. And
apparently, Mandy intended this to be all in fun. He looked down at his
predicament. His body was trapped between two sheets of, amazingly, crystal
-clear rubber, stretched within a frame of chrome tubing. He realized it had
to be silicone rubber. The top sheet was quite thin, and wasn’t very
restrictive, although he knew it was very strong, and that though it would
stretch quite a way, it would be difficult if not impossible to tear through
it. The sheet he lay on must have been much thicker, for it supported
his body weight without stretching much. The sides of the frame were attached
to large bearings, and he realized that the frame could swivel to an upright,
or, he supposed, an upside-down position. He noticed a very slight draft
of cold air too, under his buttocks.
…End of the part169. To be continued..

Unable to look down at her body because of the high posture collar, held
firmly in the tight grip of her rubber corselet and hood, she now felt as if
…End of the part156. To be continued..

She lifted one rear edge and asked Flora if she could breathe easily.
Flora grunted once to indicate that she could. Fun was fun, but you
didn’t play games with your breathing. Next Mandy seated an earpiece
in each ear, pulled the flaps back, and began lacing it up.

>From the start, it was obvious to Flora that this hood would be quite
severe. Before Mandy tightened the laces, there were almost 2 inches
of space at the rear. When she was done, there was none. The lacing
went all the down the neck, the posture collar sealing nicely to the
collar of the body suit, forcing Flora’s head erect and her gaze,
straight ahead. Flora moaned a little more loudly during the lacing
process, perhaps testing the gag, perhaps losing control but unable to
do anything about it.
…End of the part146. To be continued..

Eventually, however, the boots were laced to Mandy’s satisfaction,
which meant very tightly, and without wrinkles.

Flora stood up and walked about a bit, unsteadily, but successfully.
She had gotten a lot of practice at walking in very high heels, over
the last several years. The fact that she was tall, with somewhat long
feet for a woman helped a great deal. The dildos macking up and inside
her did not help her concentration, however. Nor did the little rubber
fingers stimulating her nipples every time she twisted or turned,
help. And it was getting increasingly hard to ignore the bits that
fingered her clit and labia and their rings.

…End of the part136. To be continued..

Mandy still stood silently watching, neither helping nor criticizing.

…End of the part134. To be continued..

“What if she comes back?” he whispered. She ignored him, pressing his
hand into her crotch. “Flora!” he whispered fiercely, if Mandy finds
us like this…” Her eyes were closed. Jason’s hand touched something
hard and smooth beneath the concealing folds of the rubber.

She ignored his questions.

“See?” she breathed. “It completely covers the important parts, like a
girdle. It’s made of rawhide leather, molded to me while it was wet,
then dried and laminated with latex.” With his hand pressed under
…End of the part102. To be continued..

“You’re the first man who really liked our costumes for themselves,”
she said, “not just because they were on a female body. That’s very
refreshing, at least from my point of view. As for this damn chastity
belt, it’s actually quite nice at first, but it gets to be distracting
after a while.”

She licked her lips slowly and deliberately.

“I should say so,” said Jason, taking her hands in his. “You’ve
certainly been distracting me for some time now. How do you think _I_
feel? I get turned on this way too, you know, and I’ve been wearing
these tight latex knickers for half a day now.”
…End of the part101. To be continued..

Besides, I’ve seen the way you look at my body, you know damn well
you’d give your left arm to get in my pants…” here she reached over
and squeezed his crotch, nearly causing a minor traffic accident,
“…and who knows, maybe you will, if you’re good to me.”

Jason’s brain was yelling, “DANGER…DANGER, Dr. Smith! Cockteaser
ahead!” but he suppressed its voice easily and told himself she really
meant it- she was just a very bossy girl…er, woman, he corrected
himself.

…End of the part10. To be continued..

So, I return and smuggly toss my purse on the xray conveyor belt.
I charge thru the detectors again. And they look VERY CLOSELY at the image
of my purse. They reluctently hand me my purse.

“THANK YOU!” I hiss and go off to the gate.

My friend’s flight came in fine, but we have to go back out past my
“buddies” to get to the baggage claim area. I leer at them venomously when
I see them. I rush over to claim my ‘contraband’ and the guy at the counter
recognizes me immediately. He gets ‘em out of his pocket and places them
in my hand. But then, he holds them in my hand for a longer-than-he-
should-have moment. He stares at me, still holding my hand, and whispers,
“Oh, my name is Kenneth. What’s your name.”

I pause… smile… and tell him, “You can call me Ma’am.”

I grab the cuffs, remove his hand from mine, and make it back just
in time to help my friend with his luggage.

“Sorry, Ma’am, but you can’t go into the airport with these.”

(if he calls me “ma’am” one more time, he’ll never father children)

Ok, so I collect myself. I’ll see if I can reason with this guy.
Afterall, he’s trying to do his job.

“Look, these are not weapons. I have a swiss army knife that you
allowed, but these trinkets are considered more threatening? C’mon, you
…End of the part3. To be continued..

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I flashed him a sheepish look. He nodded and said loudly “I’m
off. I should be back around midnight” so that they could hear
him in the bedroom, then left.

I went back to twitching in the living room. I am still not
comfortable looking him in the eyes. I know that I was the one
to insist that she tell him, but I never expected him to accept
it. Especially not as openly as this.

It’s my birthday. Two married women are “getting ready” in the
bedroom. Both husbands know, and neither one wants to kill me.
Yet. I still think of myself as sexually deprived. At 32 (no!
33 now) these are the third and fourth women I’ve ever been to
bed with. If you’re involved with two women, then a threesome is
the obvious step. Isn’t it? It seemed so when she suggested it.

I guess this means that the big fight I had with “B” a month ago
is behind us now. I haven’t been with her since then. Until she
proposed this birthday gift for me. My other lover was fascinat-
ed by the idea, and by the timing. I just twitch.

“OK, you can go in now.” I look at them. They’re wearing exact-
ly what they were wearing twenty minutes ago when they went in
there. The room is identical to what it looked like twenty
minutes ago. Who knows what “getting ready” requires in a woman.
Or in two women. When I get anxious, I often hide in getting
analytical. It drives some of my friends nuts.

“Go ahead, take your clothes off and lie down. We’ll be with you
in a second.” From “B”. It sounds like the kind of thing “L”
usually says. She knows that I’m a very direct person, more into
action than symbolism. Pure Taurus. B knows that too, but never
used to express it quite like that. I knew that they’d compare
notes when I introduced them to each other.

OK, OK, I know. I’m twitching again. This seemed like a good
idea on the phone. But…Deep breath. OK. Shirt off. Socks.
I leave the jeans. You’ll see why in a sec.

“Happy Birthday to you!
Happy Birthday to you!
Happy Birthday Greg Studly
Happy Birthday to you!”

A muffin with a sparkler for a candle. I moisten my fingers and
squeeze out the flame. Nope. Would’a been a nice macho move if
it had worked. sigh. The muffins go on a side table. “for
later”. (?) This is my thirty-third birthday. So how come I
feel like a fifteen year old.

“How come you’re still dressed?” (B)
“Both of you are still dressed…”
“You have to undress us” (B)
“Ditto. I know how L likes these…”

The traditional annoyance crosses her face. L has hated my
buttonfly jeans ever since we’ve been going out. Four months
now. I got them because a discussion on a computer net said
women loved them. Maybe not, but they’re still a great tease.
Well, they’re gone now.

I embrace B, start kissing her deeply and reach up the back of
her shirt for the bra hooks. I am proud that I can unhook them
one-handed, even with my little experience. Nope. She’s wearing
the front-hook ones today. Sigh. So much for suave and sophis-
ticated. I break the clinch, and reach up the front. She lifts
the shirt out of the way. I unhook one of the five or six that
are there and stop. A hand on my inner thigh. I look down. L
is already naked and caressing my legs. She’s staying away from
my action zone, I guess until she knows I’m paying attention. I
look back at B. Didn’t I…Right. I undo the rest of the bra and
reach for a breast. L’s hands appear out of nowhere and “deal
with” the bra somehow. I look down. The rest of B’s clothing is
gone somehow. L, I guess.

“OK, everyone onto the bed” (L)
“Do I have to?” (grinning)

“If you don’t, we’ll start without you.” A believable threat.
They’re both happily bi, though B didn’t realize it until I
introduced her to L. One of the REASONS I introduced her to L.
Oops. Getting analytical again. Instead of…they’re
waiting…they’re lying there naked with exactly the right amount
of space between them.

I crawl in between them, lie on my back and put an arm under
each. Kiss L. Kiss B. Now what do I do with my hands? All I can
reach are backs and asses. I can’t even reach either head with-
out breaking an arm off. So I play with backs. And with ass-
flesh. And play tongue sushi. For too long. Now what. Do I
make a move, or does one of them. Finally, L heads “down”. She
kisses it, and moves on to kissing B where it counts. She keeps
one hand moving slowly on me and uses the other with B. I’ve
finally got a hand free, and reach for B’s breast. Her nipples
come up like magic. I alternate between sucking a nipple and
more tongue sushi. I’ve finally got my right hand freed and am
playing with an ear.

I look down. I see L’s hand on my cock, moving slowly, and a
some of the rest of her. The breast that I can see has an in-
tensely erected nipple. I WANNA SEE WHAT SHE’S DOING. I can’t.
I return to B’s breasts.

“Is she ready down there?”

“(mumble murph) She ready.”

I roll back onto my back. B rolls onto me. L makes some adjust-
ments then fits us together. B starts moving. I make the appro-
priate counter-moves. Where is L? Must be watching. I don’t
see her at all. Yes. She’s sitting on my ankles. I, um.
Right. I rapidly hit my traditional barely-sub-orgasmic plateau
and stayed there. And stayed there. Drives the women mad. Or
so they tell me. I’m not too aware of the next ten minutes. L
is watching us from “below”, occasionally touching here, and
there. I ride on the very edge of ‘gasm while B comes up to the
edge, to it and over. I suppress my response to her ‘gasm. I’m
back into awareness and need my reserves for the next part.

B disengages, moves up a few inches, and lies on me. I’m enough
taller that she can kiss me and leave my action zone free for L.
Who has it. I’m into her mouth, and back to my sub-O’bital
plateau again in an instant. B has my mouth in full action, and
is playing with my chest. Time passes, but I don’t notice. I’m
HERE, wherever here is. And I come. Loudly, and copiously.

“Awright!” (B). B rolls off of me to watch L’s conclusion. L
swallows a couple of times, polishes me off and moves up to kiss
me. “I guess I got something for your birthday, too!” I’m sensi-
tive about oral sex and they’ve been trying to get me to come
that way for 4 months now. L is fascinated by cum and never gets
enough.

L has kept a hand on me while we kiss. She won’t let me go soft.
It’s her turn next. Suddenly I’m in her and she’s sitting on me.
Little chunks of time seem to vanish here and there. She’s
kissing B and moving on me. I move B onto my face. More time
lost. I experience it, but I’m not doing too well at filing it
into memories.

I have two hands up. One on a B cup breast, and the other on a
firmer C . Somewhere above that there’s kissing and facework.
But I can’t see it. I’m a visual person. Cunnilingus is fun,
but I can’t see a damn thing. And it’s MY party, isn’t it? I
mumble something moistly and try to clear my head from under B.
It doesn’t work. We get a moment of mass confusion where every-
thing stops while they try to figure out what I want. Oops!

We settle again. L is still riding me enthusiastically, and I
have a couple of my right fingers inside B. My left hand mingles
with L’s on B’s breasts. B’s hands are on L’s breasts and some-
where above that, tongue sushi continues.

After only about a minute of this, I reach my plateau, and this
time, move beyond it into explosion almost immediately. L comes
with me and the group collapses into a pile of sweating, panting
bodies.

Rest break. I look at the clock. 11:20. An hour and 15 minutes
of action. More or less. I smile. Three or four minutes pass,
until everyone is breathing normally.

L reaches over to the night table and hands out the cupcakes.
The one that had my candle on it and two others. She and B start
feeding each other little nibbles, and fingersmears of icing.
Like in the movies. One’s on each side of me as I lie there,
looking up at them sharing a mouthful of cupcake.

As they finish, I reach up to offer more cupcake, mine, just as B
moves to reach for something. I smear icing over the back of her
elbow. I sit up to lick it off.

SPARKS! Huh? Who would put an erogenous zone on the back of the
arm up from the elbow? I try again. Yup. It’s there. I say
something in my normal pseudo-sarcasm. L tries the other elbow.
B collapses across me, with smiles.

L pulls my hand to her breast, and moves in for more deep kiss-
ing. L is a kiss person. B’s hand is on me again. I’m UP!
Already again?

I break with L and crawl onto B. Into. Hmmmm…sure I’m up, but
I don’t have the energy anymore to DO anything with it. I start
to fade. L grabs machinery from B’s toy drawer and moves in. I
pull out and lie beside B, sucking one nipple and playing with
the other breast. L is working her up from below. I reach down
and feel the dildo moving in, twist, and out. L flashes me a
grin. Time passes. I leave L to manage B’s needs and veg in a
fog of pleasant feelings. Eventually B is done. I move over
between them again and veg out again.

Time passes. 12:15. I ask “When did [he] say he’d be back?” I
thought that he was returning about midnight. L says “two”. B
just lays there smiling.

The door. Keys. Well, I guess he didn’t say “Two o’clock”.
Deep down somewhere inside, I try to worry. Guys have been shot
for less. Don’t have the energy to worry. B grabs a bathrobe
and goes to meet him. She shuts the bedroom door on her way out.
“No hurry. Relax.”

Relax? Me? I sit up. Nope. I sit up. I’m still lying there.
OK, I concentrate. I sit up. Successfully. I ask L whether my
clothes were on her side of the bed, or out in the living room.
Nope. What comes out is “My, um, y’know? Did…” She is laugh-
ing almost hysterically. I try again. “It’s…not…Um,
ah,…FUNNY!” I’m a speech oriented person. It’s embarrassing
whenever this happens. They both always find it funny. I have
no problems arranging the sentences in my head. They just don’t
work when I speak them.

I summon “the engineer”. One of my alternate personae. “he”
doesn’t really participate in sex, other than to critique tech-
nique or to post-analyze things. And “he” can speak afterwards.

I gather my clothes and dress. Eventually. L continues to watch
my efforts hysterically.

I come out to the living room, trailing L. B’s hubby is there.
He tells me that he fixed the door on my car, more or less. He
tells me that my brakes need adjusting. He tells me that I need
a new gas-line filter.

I mumble something at him, bow deeply at B, and leave, taking L
with me. It’s over. I’m now officially thirty-three. Or a
teenager. Take your pick. I feel like the latter.

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