Cuckold Or Twink, Prt 3. There Were Six In The Bed And The Little One Said . . . free porn video

It's so easy to get ahead of myself, tell you juicy stuff before I need to. Such as when Frank began texting Ruth out of the blue on Saturday evening and asking her to be ready for him within the hour. When he arrived, he never bothered coming in to say hi. No, not Frank. He just honked his horn and waited. If she weren't out within a minute, he'd sound it again. Then it would be a blind panic, and she'd hurry down from our room and go directly out without so much of a word. She would be dressed so mundanely, not at all like when she dolled herself up for a night out.  

The first time this happened it puzzled me. It was Frank — of course — who stipulated what she was to wear; always her day to day clothes, such as a shortish skirt and opaque tights and flats, along with an everyday top and pretty cardigan. In winter, her Parker over her things. Other times he'd want her in her leggings, or jeans with tears, or tailored pants; T-shirt, or pullover. Sometimes her pale blue cotton dress and long cardigan. He'd always let her know the look he wanted before he arrived, but it was never the clubbing-slut-look or her night at the opera elegance.

 He would drive her into town, to the Hilton, where he often booked rooms for his overseas clients. Yes, I would love to write about nights in those Hilton rooms. But if I did it would fuck-up the timeline.  But just for now, I'll give you the dots. You can fill them in yourselves.

It might help you understand more clearly if I use a simile.

 I once read an article about Chinese tourists visiting the U.K, and how they longed to experience a twenty-first century, English village; somewhere like like Midsomer. You know the place: that village on the telly where all those murders happen. And so the tour operator would drive them to this one particular village. It was a typical village, not a picturesque at all, but it was the one that ticked all the boxes for those Chinese travellers. After visiting this village, when they got back home, they could tell their friends that they'd seen quintessential England and not just the picture postcard one. It goes without saying that they would have already done the usual tourist attractions: the tower, the palace, the Cavern Club — you know, all that stuff.  And then this village. Such a twee place. Just your boring, twenty-first-century English dormitory town, all flower beds and cast garden gnomes, four by fours in the drive.

Ruth was a bit like that village.

 I'll explain. Frank's clients were often businessmen from overseas, mainly Nigerian oil tycoons. Not Chinese in the slightest. And it was a casual remark by one of those men that set the ball rolling. Probably lonely and thousands of miles from home, he might have mentioned how he wanted to fuck an English girl. When asked what kind of girl he had in mind, he might have said, "Fee-fi-fo-fum, I'd love to fuck the wife of an Englishman." ha-ha! This imaginary English wife might even have been the type of woman who lived in that village. You know the one: that one all those Chinese tourists were keen to visit.

She would be a fresh-faced English Rose of a wife, and Frank decided Ruth fitted the part perfectly. She was to play the role of the quintessential English young wife — if there is such a thing. Little by little, he involved her in his depraved adventure.

I'll tell of the deception later, how he groomed her, eased her slowly into her role of wife cum slut. Suffice to say; Frank would instruct her to dress as if she were going shopping in town, or out for lunch with her yummy mummy pals. Then he would collect her in his Merc and drive her to the hotel, where they would play out the charade of a married couple, he the cuckold and she the hot wife. And this all began because of that one throwaway remark from one man who was lonely and far from home. It was a remark that ignited Frank's insatiable need to spin out the erotic in new ways. There were never enough scenarios to appease his insatiable appetite for debauchery.

Oh. I forgot to say: Those Saturday nights when he came to fetch Ruth, there would be an exchange. After my anger that first time, he brought gifts to lessen my pique. Otherwise, it would have been end-of.

And what gifts they were! When he called for Ruth, he would deposit Nadine or Jan on my doorstep. He or she would enter the house just as Ruth was leaving. If I was lucky, and they were both in town, it would be Jan and Nadine together. And when he returned Ruth to me in the early hours, Jan or Nadine had to be dressed and ready to leave. So, you see, I was never lonely when Ruth was out. It was more the humiliation of it; how he had that power over us both, how he could phone my wife and have her drop everything in an instant.

After those nights with Frank and his clients, Ruth would arrive home in the early hours looking used and bedraggled, the stink sex lush on her flesh. Her exhaustion would be utter, and she would fall into a deep sleep as soon as her head found the pillow. But I'll say this one thing about Ruth: she never spent the entire night with those men, not once. Frank would always bring her home before dawn. She insisted he did.

Sunday morning we would lie in late, and she would tell me how horrid it had been, though she was a reluctant teller of tales and never gave enough details to quench my need, and so I would badger her for minutia. After she had told me all she could or wanted to tell, he would vow that if he ever asked her to do such a thing again, she would finish it there and then and never see him again. And she would ask me — genuinely at a loss — why Frank needed her to do those things he had told her to do. But he had not held a gun to her head; she participated in his schemes willingly, could have said no at any time.

A few days later he would call her, and it would be "Yes, Frank, of course, Frank. That sounds fantastic, Frank. When? Oh, I can't wait, Frank." Three-fucking bags-full, Frank!

And so it became a regular thing. Not often but regular. Maybe once a month.

But I will not write about those Nigerians just at the moment. No, what I'm not going to write about now is how we met Nadine, and her twin brother, Jan.

                                                                   *****************************                                                 

Frank and Ruth were talking on the phone. Even from one end of the conversation, I intuited something brewing, knew he wanted to see her urgently.

When the call ended, she said, "Frank says I have to go to him."

"I'll shower and change."

"He doesn't want you, just me."

"And you're still going?"

"Do you mind terribly?" she said.

"Where's he taking you?"

"I have to meet him."

"Where?"

"The Hilton."

"Why the Hilton?"

"There's a girl he wants me to meet."

"What girl?"

"He's sent photos. See? "

She handed me her phone. I thumbed through the images.

"And you're okay with this? She looks very young," I said, flicking back and forth.

"Frank says she's nineteen."

"She hardly looks it. She has no breasts."

"It's kind of Cute that she doesn't, don't you think? But look how pretty she is, and how long her legs are."

"Is your type,? What you had in mind?"

"How could I have ever had someone like her in mind? How could anyone? Look at her! Unique. And she looks delicious, skin like ice cream. I could eat her all up."

"What flavour?"

"Vanilla — of course."

"Does Frank even know the meaning of the word? Is that what you want, to eat vanilla girl all up?"

"Frank says I can if I want to."

"And do you?"

"What do you think?" She grinned like an imbecile.

"I'll drive you."

"No need, he's sending a taxi. It'll be here in an hour."

"I don't care what Frank wants. I'm going to be there too."

"Me and a girl, eh?. It's finally happening. Your fantasy is coming true."

"About time too, " I said, " But I always thought it would be you and Carol."

 Her name is Nadine. Did I say?"

"Nadine," I repeated. "She has allure; I'll give you that."

"Doesn't-she-just."

Nadine. An extreme blonde. Lissome as saplings, pretty as the fey. And yet for all her fresh appeal, there was a subtle hint of errancy alive in her beautiful young eyes. Inordinately large and astonishingly almond, they almost appeared wrong. And yet they didn't; they drew you in, commanded you to understand her, make sense of her. No. She was anything but wrong. You didn't have to look twice to appreciate her beauty; you had to look twice to make sure she was a real-life girl and not a CGI Princess created by Pixar.

When Ruth went upstairs to shower and dress, I studied Nadine's image again. There was a suggestion of moonlight about her complexion that made me think she had never seen the sun, and I thought of long winter nights deep inside Norway's arctic circle. I wondered where Frank had found her. It was almost impossible for me to believe that a girl like her would willingly allow herself to become the latest dish à la carte for his inexhaustible menu of depravity.
                             
                                                                      ***************************

While we waited for the taxi to arrive, we talked about Frank.

I asked, "How does it make you feel, you know, sharing him with me?"  

 We had never really spoken about the way his presence in our lives was starting to affect us. Things between Ruth and I were no longer what they once were. Little by little I was beginning to understand how much she needed his attention. I wanted to know where I fitted into the new reality unfolding about us.

 "You and Frank?" Ruth said. "Oh! I don't know, Paul." I sensed her taking care with how she phrased things. There was a long pause before she continued: "It was nice for Frank that you could do that for him. Thank you, darling. And don't you think it was so considerate of him to return the favour?"

"Nice for me?  Nice for Frank! For Fuck's sake, Ruth! But what does all this mean? What kind of people are we becoming? Do you even care?"

"You tell me what it all means. Does it have to mean anything?" She stood and came to me and sat softly on my knee, her tone more placatory. "You know how much I love you, Paul. You've been my world these last few years, and haven't we always tried to be completely open with each other? Never tried to hide things from each other. So please tell me what's going on in that silly head of yours."

I eased her from off my lap so that she sat by my side. I held her hand and looked into her eyes as I spoke. "I can't get him out of my head, and the things we've done."

Under her breath, "You and me both." Then she focused on me and said, "This is my fault. If I'd never told you what Frank said about you, all this would never have happened."

"I'm glad it happened."

She seemed to brighten. "Frank says we can go over to their's next Saturday. Carol will be there. You know how much you like Carol, how lovely she is. I spoke to her earlier. She's looking forward to seeing us — both of us."

"That's the whole point: is this going to be our life now, you forever at his beck and call? Is that what you want?"

"Frank does."

"But is it what you want?" I asked her.

"Let's get tonight out of the way, and then see how Saturday goes, shall we?"

I reached out my hand and eased back the strands of hair threatening to curtain her left eye, and as I hooked strands behind her ear, I thought how beautiful she was. And then I thought of how beautiful Carol was, each girl in her unique way was stunning. To see them together would be a dream come true. But did that even matter now the girl Nadine was on the horizon?

Carol and Ruth were old friends from school. The first time I ever saw Ruth she was walking back from college with Carol, and I was hard pushed to decide between them. In the end, it was Ruth who settled things. She took me in hand and made her interest blatant. But many times I imagined myself with Carol. And then the imagining became something more, and Ruth would be there too, and I would picture them naked, first together, and then one each side of me.

Such beguiling contrast: Raven-haired, Carol, a porcelain-doll of prettiness, her frame so slight and delicate that I often wondered how Frank managed to make love to her without breaking her.

Then there was my Ruth: classically beautiful rather than pretty, her face almost boyishly handsome, her features something executed in marble by ancient Athenians; her nose long but still quite feminine, her eyes curious aquamarine,  hair silky, red-blonde.  At five-two, she was no taller than Carol, and yet she possessed a robustness Carol lacked.

I looked into Ruth's eyes and asked, "How does it make you feel when you're with him?"

"You saw us together. What is there to tell?"

"I wasn't there the last time."

 "It was intense. He couldn't get enough of me. You know what he wanted."

"I know, I know, but how does being with him make you feel . . . you know, inside?"

"Oh. I don't know, Paul.  Do I have to explain it to you?"

"It's important."

"If I say it out loud, you might not like what you hear."

"Try me."

"I might not like what I hear either."

During the last few days she had gone about her life like a young girl weighed down by an unrequited crush. When she came home from work she now said very little, was distracted, forever checking her phone for texts. If one came through she would smile, and I would know it was from Frank. I would be jealous of how words from him brought her such satisfaction. And if her phone did not ping, she would stare at it, turn it in her palm, gradually becoming introspective, full of thoughts of her time with him — at least, that is what I guessed. But whenever I spoke about him, her face would light up and shine with the glee of a devotee. And then came her broken phone and hell hath no fury. You know the rest.

 You would think my knowing this would cause me pain beyond words. But it didn't, it set me on fire with an aching need to see them together again, and for me to a part of what they shared.

I suspected that if I could get her talking, then it might all come spilling out. So I asked, "How come Frank knew where you were?"

"When?"

"That first night. When you brought him home — after your night out."

"Ages ago I might have mentioned something about going out with the girls. Just in passing, you know? But then I'd forgotten I'd told him. It was a shock to see him stood at the bar."

"I thought it was a ticket only event."

"He's a Friend of Adam. You know Adam? The hotel manager? Besides, it's Frank. He could talk his way into number ten."

"Did anyone remark about him being there, or how you left early with him? Did any of the girls from work, afterwards?"

"It's probably the talk of the bank. Fuck them! It's Amy I care about."

"Miriam's Amy?"

"Yeah."

"Why are you worried about Amy? What's she got to do with Frank?"

"Did I not mention Amy had taken her mother's ticket?"

"Not as I recall."

"The hospital had called Miriam in. It was the night of the ISIS attack at City's ground, remember?  They needed nurses. Miriam didn't hesitate."

"Thank god there have been none since."

She took a sip of wine before continuing.

"Well, I was sitting with Amy and didn't see Frank until she said some guy at the bar was staring at us. See, I was turned slightly facing away and had not seen him. But when I turned and saw who she was talking about, I could have died. Even then I didn't let on that I knew him. I wanted to see if she remembered him from our barbecue. But all she said was that she wouldn't mind a piece of a bloke like him. Then she emptied her glass and went up to the bar and stood right next to him while she ordered, kept looking at him with that little-girl-lost thing she does. He paid for her a drink, and then they were talking for ages. Every so often Frank would look over at me and smile."

"You left Amy alone with him? What were you thinking?"

"We'd all drunk too much by then — Amy as well. She was in a partying mood and had been dancing for ages before coming to sit with me.  At the bar, she kept giggling at stuff he was saying, touching his arm. And that's when he placed his hand on her hip and began whispering to her, so close it made me mad to watch. I had to do something."

"God. Not Amy?"

"That's why I hurried over to them and said, 'Hello, Frank. You remember Amy, don't you — my sister's eldest. You know, Miriam's girl?'." I said it even though I knew damn well he knew who she was. I was really saying it for Amy's ears."

"What did he say?"

"He began telling me how Amy was going to find Amy work in his company during the summer break. Then Miranda arrived and said something to Amy. They went off together to dance.

I continued to listen but got up and peered out of the window to see if the taxi was there.

Ruth continued to talk. "His eyes followed Amy across the room, watched her dancing. Talking to him was like trying to have a conversation with you when the match is on tv. He hardly looked at me, had eyes only for Amy. And even though I already knew he wanted her, it wasn't until I saw the way watched her dancing that I realised exactly how much. It made me frightened for her."

"Sure you weren't just jealous."

"That was not how it was. He'd been pestering me about Amy for ages."

"He'd met her before?"

"I already said. My birthday party. The big barbecue?"

How could I ever forget the Amy of that evening? I'd not seen her for at least three years, just a kid the last time, though Ruth saw her often when she visited her sister. At first, I didn't recognise her. There were changes to her appearance that made her a stranger. She'd let her had hair grow out, where previously she'd worn it bobbed.

I'd noticed the tall, strawberry blonde earlier in the evening and, until some called her by name, I had no idea who she was. How could I have? This exquisite creature was a universe away from the callow girl who I knew as Ruth's niece. Even then, knowing who she was, my niece by marriage, I could not help but stare as she moved among the guests. The way she came and went about the garden bewitched me. I'd stare, watching her laughing, her animated brightness while in conversation with her friends and family. She was like a debutant released onto an unsuspecting world. I found my eyes repeatedly seeking her out among the guests.  

Amy! Five-eleven of elegance. Her long, tanned legs could not fail to draw my eye. Yes, those legs! Legs that went on and on, finally sliced by frayed denim shorts. The sight of her, the impossibility of me ever having her, made me want to weep.  

Later, when shovelling chicken legs, quiche, and coleslaw from the buffet onto my paper plate, I turned to find her standing by my side unselfconsciously spreading soft cheese along the core of a celery stick. She smiled at me, said, "Oh, it's you, uncle Paul." She held my gaze as I were a piece left over from a completed jigsaw puzzle. "You look well,"  she said.

She was an adult now. All I could say was, "You've changed."

"In a good way, I hope?"  

"The best possible way," I said, and then regretted the words, my lecherous tone. I saw her eyes. She had seen my mind. I felt ashamed.

She flushed slightly, lowered her eyes.

 I quickly asked about her plans, offered a weak smile as I awaited her reply.  We began to chat. She had forgiven me.

And so we managed fifteen minutes of catching up. Gone was the gauche half-formed personality of a fifteen-year-old. Amy had always shied away from me when I asked about her school work, but now her ease and self-assurance was unmistakable. I was stood face to face with a gorgeous young woman full of plans for her future, and her unapologetic delight of being herself in her body was such that no one, man or woman, could fail to be captivated.

But I never saw Frank talking with Amy that day. I certainly would have remembered if he had.

I asked Ruth, "When, though? When did he say he wanted her?"

"Right after she'd left with Miriam and Joe in the taxi. He came over and asked me who the beautiful strawberry-blonde had been."

And as Ruth spoke, I thought of her sister, Mirian, and her aspirations for her daughter, and her own life devoted to giving her the best of possible starts. God if she only knew a man like Frank Garside had her in his sights.

"And did you tell him she's your niece?"

"That only made it worse."

"Worse?"

"He said he'd never had a niece and aunt together. And after that, he'd always ask after Amy when he gave me a lift. And so when I saw them chatting at the bar, I knew if I didn't do something to stop him . . . I couldn't let that happen, could I, Paul?"

"So what did you do?"

"I told him about you."

"What do you mean?"

"How you wanted to see me with him."

"And did it stop him going after Amy?"

"He brought me home to you, didn't he?"

"Are you saying otherwise he would have tried to seduce Amy?"

"He would have, too. Amy's at an age where she thinks she's so grown up, a person completed. She isn't though, not one bit. She wouldn't stand a chance with Frank."

"How old is she now? Nineteen?"

"Eighteen — last March."

"Jeez! And she's your niece, for Christ's sake!"

"He's even asked me to arrange things."

"Between him and Amy?"

"I told him no way, and that I would rather die."

"What about the job he offered her."

"I keep meaning to talk to Miriam."

The taxi arrived to take us to Nadine and Frank.

                                                       *************************

"Why the fuck is twink here?" Frank asked when he saw me.

Ruth looked chastised, quickly explaining, "I am sorry, Frank, but he insisted on coming with me — He's promised to behave himself, though. Haven't you, darling?"

"Better make yourself useful then, twink," he said.  "Go and get the drinks. The usual for me."

I asked Ruth what she wanted.

"Cider, please."

We stood by the bar while the bartender poured our drinks.

"Where's the girl?" Ruth asked, her eyes expectantly scanning the bar.

"She's up in the room. You'll be meeting her very soon, but there's no hurry. We'll have a drink first."

"Where on earth did you meet someone like her — Midwich?"  I asked.

He looked at me blankly, "Midwich?"

"You know . . . Cuckoos?"

"Oh. No, at a party, would you believe. She was with the caterers. Can you imagine: a girl like Nadine dishing out Canapés?  But you should have seen her in her little waitress uniform."

"So why is she here tonight?" I asked.

 "In September she'll be at the university.  Carol and I have taken her under our wing until she's settled. Today we have been showing her the city, her college, looking for suitable digs."

I thought of Carol and Frank, Nadine under their wing.

 "And where is Carol?" I asked.

"She'll be along soon."

My heart went all military tattoo.

"You okay, twink?" Frank asked. You look a bit off."

In the hotel room, Nadine waited on the sofa like a gift for the birthday girl. As Frank began the introductions, she rose to her feet with such lithe ease that it gave the impression that her long legs were uncoiling from beneath her. Although no more than five-seven, her slim, shapely legs gave her the air of a much taller girl, and I could not help but stare at her calves, previously hidden beneath her haunches, her small well-proportioned feet quite bare, though her toenails were all silver.

Frank went to Nadine and stood at her side, placed his arm around her waist "So, Nadine . . . what do you think of Ruth?"

"She is such a lovely looking person," Nadine said.

"And you, Ruth . . . Nadine?"

Nadine's otherworldly beauty seen up close captivated Ruth in an instant, and she looked intently at Nadine, her eyes drinking her every inch. Ruth almost whispered, "She's enchanting."

"Did you hear that, Nadine? You've cast a spell on the lovely Ruth."

Nadine turned and Looked at Frank. "I do not know this word, Enchant . . . ?" she stumbled with the pronunciation, and I realised she was from the continent, maybe East European, I couldn't tell for sure.

Frank gently kissed Nadine's cheek and said, "What Ruth means is . . . She thinks you're magical — don't you, Ruth?" He walked with  Nadine, his arm around her waist steering her. "So why don't you two gorgeous creatures make yourselves comfy on the bed and see what magic you can conjure up between yourselves." Then he turned to me and said, "There's champagne in the fridge, be a good girl."

Ruth sat on the side of the bed and undid the fastenings of her strappy heels. She eased each shoe off in turn, and I listened for the hiss of fine denier over leather. Both girls sat self consciously upright on the bed watching Frank, neither venturing eye contact with the other. Ruth adjusted her legs, folding them beneath herself so that she mirrored Nadine. Nadine looked nervously around while rubbing her bare upper thigh with her palm, her eyes continuing to dart here and there.

Ruth seemed to take a breath, turned to Nadine and said, "Frank says he and Carol have been looking out for you."

"Yes. It is true. Carol has been so kind to me."

"So how long have you been in England, Nadine?" Ruth asked.

"Six months, I think — The time it goes fast."

"Do you like it here?"

"Very much, but when I first tell my family I come to England, they say do not go to that place because they have Brexit and hate us there. But I say I no, I go. And so they tell me Jan must come too."

"Jan?" Ruth asked.

Frank did not give Nadine time to answer. "Jan is Nadine's brother. They're Twins," he added.

Nadine was relaxing now, opening up, her speech animated. "But now when I phone my mother I tell her everyone is kind to us and that she must not worry now that we have new friends, Frank and Carol, and that Jan is working in Liverpool. Mother is so happy that Jan is where The Beatles began."

Ruth plied Nadine with questions, and we learned she intended to Study biochemistry at the city university, and that she wanted to stay in the U.K afterwards, get a job in research. Pharmaceuticals, she said.

As they talked, I again found it hard to believe that this lovely and intelligent young woman was here as a sexual plaything. I sipped my Champaign while listening to Ruth and Nadine getting to know each other. And the more they talked, the more convinced I was that this was some sick joke of Frank's.

Nadine excused herself and went towards the bathroom. Before she left the room, she asked Frank, "Can there be music here?"

"Anything for you, princess," Frank said, reaching for his laptop and finding Youtube.

He chose rhythmic ambience, a beat to hush the world, and I asked him, "Does Nadine know why she's here?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

"But she looks so . . ."

"You're over-thinking this, Twink. You were not even supposed to be here. Just be grateful that you get to watch."

"And her brother — where does he fit in?"

"I'm hoping he'll fit perfectly," Frank said. And I thought, Oh. That's what this is all about then, is it, Frank? He continued,  "It's all new for Nadine too, you know. Let's say I'm a caring person who is trying his best to facilitate the needs of his friends."

And I thought: Yeah, right! You mean your needs.

We sipped our drinks, waiting for Nadine to return. When she appeared, she was naked. Her sudden emergence through the bathroom door without clothes took my breath away. She began to slink about the room, swaying to the beat of the music, obviously pleased to be displaying her nakedness in such a manner, and I saw how much she enjoyed the effect it had on us. And just for a moment, as she passed where I sat, our eyes met, and then I knew for sure she would willingly do anything Frank asked of her.

The artlessness of her movements only enhanced their sensuality. But there was more to come. She was like a virtuoso tuning her instrument. Slowly her movement became more purposeful, showing grace and elegance. She passed amongst us as a spirit newly summoned by a spell that would be unbreakable until she released us from its enchantment. Her flesh so pale, so genuinely ghostly in the subdued light of the room; I expected her to fade from sight, dissolve into shadows.

Even I, who knew nothing of dance, saw how she was the master of an art, the years of practice evident in the impeccable turns and stretches she executed. Widdershins and then clockwise she went, and all the while she sang a softly, a lullaby in her native tongue, its meaning denied us.   

I looked at Ruth, saw her expression, heard her breath in, and then her sigh, "Oh, Nadine."

"I please you?" It was a question for Ruth. Nadine stood by the bed waiting for a reply, her eyes bright with expectations.

"More than anything," Ruth replied.

"You will be with me now — yes?"

Ruth slipped from off the bed and gently put her arms around the naked Nadine, letting her palms rest on the girl's upper buttocks. And in return, Nadine encircled Ruth's shoulders and pulled herself tight against her. They remained in each other's arms like that, each savouring the otherness of the other. Their mutual absorption at that moment was profound. The only movement was Ruth's hands running sensuously up and down the girl's back. It was as if she were if trying to confirm by touch that the girl in her arms was real. It seemed an age before they kissed.

Their kisses were becoming heated — and then Jan and Carol arrived. They were chatting as they entered the suite, but quickly fell silent when they saw Ruth and Nadine together.

Carol's reaction: "Oh. My. God!"  The sight of the naked Nadine in Ruth's arms stopped her dead in her tracks. Then turning to her husband, "Frank! Why have you started without us?"

Nadine untangled herself from Ruth and almost skipped across the room to her brother, her giddy words of greeting, her happiness, how pleased he had come. But her words were nonsense I would never understand. She embraced him as if he were loved one previously thought lost now returned to her. She clung to him, her arms about his shoulders, and I thought it the most sublime moment to see her naked and pressing herself against him, and how he drew her to himself by both hands on her butt — his very own sister. To watch their lips momentarily brushing was achingly indecent. And then Nadine relinquished him and went to stand next to Ruth.

Jan's English was better than his sister's. "Sorry I'm so late, There was a hold-up on the line."

Like his sister, Jan was pale and blonde. He had the same eyes too. They were a girl's eyes, long jet lashes that curled. I looked at Frank and caught the way he watched Jan. And though hardly more than a youth, Jan seemed more grounded in this world than I imagined Nadine could even hope to be. He was much taller, perhaps six foot, and had broad shoulders and slim hips. I thought of Olympic swimmers, medalists on a podium.

Carol said to Frank, "I've waited an hour. I was about to give up on him."

"I would have phoned, but I do not have your number," Jan said

"Never mind that, Frank said, "He's here now."

Carol smiled at me, then said, "Hello, Paul. Who said you could crash our little party?  Naughty boy." Then she greeted Ruth, "Hi Babe." And they embraced, kissed each other's cheeks like the friends they had always been. "I see he's already introduced you to the lovely Nadine." Then turning to Nadine, "And you Babe. Don't I get a kiss from my favourite girl."

"Oh yes," Nadine said. "I forget my manners."

She went to Carol. At first, there was a distance between them, a leaning in, a stretching of necks, a light brush of lips, then the flicker of emerging tongues, soon hidden when their lips sealed in a sustained, deep kiss. It was only then that they drew each other close.

Ruth watched Carol and Nadie kissing until Frank said to her, "Don't just stand there . . . ."

I thought Ruth would join them, but first, she undressed, slackening the belt of her dress and reaching over her shoulder for the zip. Frank went to her, took charge of the zipper, eased the garment from her shoulders, undid her bras and pulled her tights and panties down. They snagged and stretched at her heels, and he pulled hard, the mesh elasticating. When her tights were free of her legs, he held them to his nose and stood up. He breathed deeply through the micromesh before he slapped her Ruth's, and sent her on her way to join Carol and Nadine.

Ruth approached the two girls slowly, looking as if joining them would be an imposition. She circled the kissing pair, hoping for an opening, a chink to exploit. Finding not an inch, she approached Nadine from behind, first cupping the taller girl's buttocks in her palms, allowing her flesh to settle, and then squeezing. In contrast to her almost boyish chest, Nadine's hips were soft and rounded, womanly.

From behind Nadine, Ruth's arms slipped between the two girls. She pulled herself close so that her breasts pushed against Nadine's back, and I saw how Ruth relished the girl's intoxicating strangeness. It was as if she were high on some exotic new drug; part narcotic, part euphoric. Nadine was a drug unappeasably addictive.   

I turned to Frank and saw him kissing Jan, his hand moving around inside the crotch of the boy's jeans. Jan appeared overwhelmed by Frank's attention and had quickly become compliant, hardly able to muster a response. I knew that feeling, how Frank could induce passivity in his male lovers.

When Jan eventually summoned the will to free himself from Frank's attention, he saw me watching and said something to Frank, who looked at me and said, "Hey, twink! Jan likes you."

Deciding between watching the girls and going to Jan and Frank had me in the throes of an unenviable ambivalence; I wanted both at once. I turned my head from one couple to the other, like I was following the ball at a tennis tournament. I found Jan visually appealing, unusually so for a bloke, which was odd as it had never been a visual with Frank. But then there were the girls. I'd always wanted to see Ruth with another woman.

It was Ruth and Carol working as one that finally secured my full attention. Together they piloted Nadine, laid her down on the bed, Ruth quickly stretching out beside her. Carol undressing in great haste, scared it might be too late, the bargains long gone. Her shirt, pants, shoes and underwear all carelessly cast aside in her hurry to join them. She chose her spot, lay across from Ruth on the opposite side of Nadine, the two friends becoming human bookends to Nadine's flesh-bound secrets.  

Urgency and need, a frenzy of licking, kissing, and more than playful biting. Carol and Ruth, their breasts against Nadine's cheeks, stiffened nipples each side of her lips as an offering greedily accepted. The girl frantically turned her head from side to side suckling. First Ruth, then Carol.

Synchronised, symmetrical, Ruth and Carol, sliding down each side of Nadine, over the slightness of her breasts, the whitewash of her belly and thighs. They turned her onto her back, their tongues searching out new contours to map: the arch of her back, her spine and shoulders, then back to the dense flesh of her pale buttocks, fingers splitting the cushioning curves, tongues tentatively dipping.

Nadine supine and cherished, her body's pleasure their sole focus. And how she responded to their touch and kisses, their entwining limbs, their turns and twists. Her English, at best broken, became mere fragments of sentences. "Oh, god. So good, Oooh, You make nice for me!" And then she did not know the English words, and once again it was her native sweet prattling. It was as if she spoke in tongues.

Ethereal, beautiful, and strange, I saw how Nadine's flesh intoxicated Carol and Ruth, how their excitement multiplied as they explored her body. Carol broke of her oral trawl and lifted her head for a moment, and asked Ruth: "Do you like her, Babe? Isn't she delicious? I can't get enough of her."

"You see her too? I thought she was a dream," Ruth replied.

"She's my dream girl."

"No, mine!"

They laughed, leaned across the supine Nadine, and kissed each other with almost coy wonder, a sort of uncomprehending delight that it had come to this, that they shared such a girl — and perhaps even more so, that they shared each other.

When I looked over to the couch, Jan was slouched there naked. Frank was also naked, had only just removed his clothes, was folding them and placing them neatly in a pile on a chair. The sight of Frank's erection as he returned to Jan brought back my first taste of him. He sat beside Jan, kissed him again before letting his mouth travel over the subtly muscled landscape of his body. Down and over his abdomen Frank's mouth ventured, tasting Jan's pale flesh. His tongue followed the contours of Jan's muscles, muscles like wave fossils made by a retreating tide a millennia ago.

Jan's erection, a crane boom parallel to his abdomen, the bulb of it hovering over his bellybutton, seeming about to drop and nestle there. Frank took it in his mouth while he clawed at the boy's nipples. From time to time he allowed it to slip out, then he would lick its underside, allowing his tongue to flicker across the sensitive point just below the head. Jan moaned encouragement, but then he suddenly cried out,"Oh-fuck!." He was premature, his cum an eruption that splattered on Frank's face before he had a chance to get it back it into his mouth.

When I turned back to the girls, Ruth was down between Nadine's legs. Her face was lost to view. Carol left them for a moment, went over to her handbag and brought out a dildo, one with straps. I watched her in bemused fascination as she tried to position it on her hips, struggling with straps and fixings. She looked up as if to seek help, saw me and said, "Paul, would you be a love and help me with the fastenings."

"Sure, I said and went to her.

Being so close to a naked Carol sent my mind into free-fall. Was I allowed to touch her? I did not know. I stooped and began to fiddle with metal and leather. I feared I'd finish the job too quickly and she would be gone. I took my time.

Did I dare touch her? "This one's tricky," I said, my face only inches from her belly. The dildo kept moving, the end brushing against my shoulder as I stooped. I continued to fumble, but as I did she leaned a little towards me and my nose brushed against her fragrant belly.

I could not help myself. I stopped trying to fasten the straps and let my hands follow their instincts, her buttocks drawing them like magnets of flesh.  I cupped both butt-cheeks while my mouth licked the slight pudge of her belly. I wanted to go down between her legs but the dildo barred my way. What I did next was outlandish. There I was, up close to a beautiful naked woman — and I must stress, Carol is one of the prettiest girls you will ever see — and what did I do? Guess? I Filled my mouth with the fucking latex dildo that swung at her hips. Can you believe that? I couldn't.

And yet it was intensely erotic to have its smooth bulk coming and going in my mouth, and her fingers in my hair, her nails clawing my scalp.

"Oh, Paul. You've really taken a liking to my toy, haven't you?"

I could only moan a response.

And then she coaxed me up, whispered in my ear, "Not for you, babe. It's is for Nadine." Before she walked away, she kissed me sweetly, tongues and all. Her strap-on, warm with my saliva rubbed against me.

"I want you," I told her.

"Not yet . . ."

"No. Now. It has to be now." I handled her like a long-anticipated parcel just arrived, yanking at the strap-on, loosening it so that it slipped from her hips."

"You weren't supposed to be here," Carol said, sounding alarmed. It was if a long-planned scheme were going awry.

"But I am here," I said.

Carol looked anxiously at Frank. I saw him nod. She softened, took my hand and led me to the bed.

"This wasn't supposed to happen tonight," Carol Said as she undid my fly.

"Oh. When was it supposed to happen.?" I asked.

"Some time, but not now."

 We stood by the side table, and Carol pulled down my chinos while I took off my shirt. As I stepped out of my pants, I looked down at Ruth and Nadine, saw them aroused beyond self-restraint, their lust for each other illimitable.

I savoured her kiss, immersed myself in her essence. I was afraid I might never be allowed to have her again. We lay together beside Nadine and Ruth and began to make love. I sensed growing desperation, realised the extent of her need. The way she responded to me hinted of a hidden Carol, a Carol who was no longer Frank's wife. Her giving herself to me had temporarily freed her from him. She would be herself for me alone during the brief interval that would be our lovemaking.

And I was happy just to have her in my arms, to kiss and caress her. I sensed in her a growing need, and so I eased myself into her, penetrated her. Her cunt closed around my cock like it was a precious thing that had once escaped from her and meant it never to do so again.

 I lunged hard, and my cock parted tissue and muscle. My momentum soon had me boring a way through her cunt's unctuousness grip. When I was at my deepest, she raised her knees, and my balls were against her arse. I found my rhythm braced by her inner thighs that scissored each side of my hips. She had crossed her ankles behind me, and they rested heavy in the small of my back, her right heel spurring against my coccyx. Beneath me, her hips rolled as if an ocean, undulating like incoming waves out beyond the breakers. We came to understand each other's needs as if we were long-time married. But we were not a couple; we were rutting animals on heat.

I sensed movement near the bed, Frank coming closer, watching us from the side. By our side, Ruth and Nadine neared their zenith, their bodies twisting and thrashing. Jan came over to watch. He approached the foot of the bed and quietly observed his sister in the final abandon of orgasm.

My body, my mind, drawn deeper into her "is-ness", her "Carol-ness".  I became dazed by her beauty, rapt from the knowledge of knowing I was her lover, that her body was her gift to me freely given. Her eyes asked me to be perfect. She needed someone to cherish her, someone to want only her. That is what I sensed. I became lost in the dream-reality that making love to Carol was. I had her buttocks in my palms, and I kneaded them while I pulled her hard onto my cock. Our pubic hairs rasped like buffeting wire wool.

 I thought of Frank, what his marriage to her might be. And as I did, I realised he was behind me. Then the dissonance. Him parting my legs as I fucked his wife. How he drew his palm over my backside as my hips rose and fell. How his fingers settled between my buttocks.

I thought, Here we go.

The cool of the lube made me wince, and I thrust deeper into Carol. His cock between my buttock cheeks, sliding up and down the crack. Not ready to fuck me just yet, he guided it with his hand, sweeping purposefully.

He did not have to push, my rising and falling hips drew him into me, his cock chasing after me as I pressed into his wife. He was big, too big, the size of him incomprehensible for such an act. I wondered how I ever imagined it would be okay. I suppose I'd believed it would be different, more dreamlike, my mind in reverie. But it was stark, the reality of his cock in that place was outrageous.

He was determined to have his way with me. He steadied me with both hands, and I was quite still for a moment. I saw a questioning look in Carol's eyes, her wondering why I had stopped inside her. Frank pushed hard. Something gave. He'd breached me. My muscles tried to eject the invader, but the war was already hopelessly lost. I cried out in pain. Then came glory, and I unloaded my burden.

 But he continued to fuck me like he always said he would. I focused on Carol's face, and her large heavily mascaraed eyes reassured me. I kissed her. Carol's face, such a sweet distraction, a prescription to ease all pain.

 I sensed Carol's growing alarm; our combined weight was in danger of becoming dead weight falling upon her. She began to extricate herself from beneath us, and I pushed myself up, raised my hips as best I could. It was not a smooth process, what with Frank inside me and heavy on my back. Eventually, by twisting and sliding, she struggled free.

 With Carol gone, Frank was pushing without consideration. My rectum put up the most stubborn resistance, but to no avail: he was a blitzkrieg, a deep salient became established. Then the breakthrough, his reserves sent forward. I was in route. A final push and his cock discharged its viscid batch and filled the trench. He groaned like the newly condemned.

He became still but did not pull out immediately. Instead, he lay heavily and exhausted, almost crushing all air from me, his cock wilting unhurriedly. Finally diminished and wrinkled, it slipped from me like a shamed deviant. His cum followed like the seeping of sap from damaged bark.

 Before he went off to the bathroom, Frank whispered in my ear: You’re such a girl, Twink. Did you know that?  Fucking beautiful.”

I turned and lay propped on one arm and watched Nadie and Ruth making love. Nadine's fingers entangled in Ruth's hair, my wife now between her legs and tipping her into orgasm.  Nadine's bucking hips, head frantic from side to side, her cries shrill, like a rabbit afraid.

Ruth on her feet. Carol once again harnessed, she took Ruth's place between Nadine's legs. What happened next will stay with me forever. Jan at the side of the bed and near Nadie's head. The girl turned to look at her brother, said soft words. His semi-hard cock rested in his hands as he, in turn, spoke to his sister. He moved forward, and she took it in her mouth, and I watched her breath life into it. His cock at the back of Nadine's mouth as Carol pushed her dildo hard into her cunt.

Frank returned, "Ah! I see the main feature has started."

He stood behind Jan and began kissing the nape of his neck. Then he left Jan and stooped by the bed and began to stoke Nadine's nipples, nipples no longer resembling a boy's, they were hard and distended; a mature woman's nipples. But they seemed such solitary things, small-scale monoliths erected by passion on a barren landscape of flesh. I reached out and ran my hand over her chest and thought how odd it was that someone so beautiful in all other respects should be minus that ubiquitous feminine attribute. I took the nipples closest to me and tweaked it hard, to make sure it was real. Nadine squealed, and I knew that it was.

Carol fucked Nadine like an operative enslaved by machinery, her piston thrust essential to production, on and on, no end to it. I Kissed Nadine's neck, her cheeks, my tongue at the corner of her mouth where I tasted the emerging stem of Jan's cock. I licked his balls. He was quite still, his flesh smooth, no hair at all. I wondered about Ruth as I kissed what I could of Jan's cock; what part was she playing at that exact moment? Later she told me how she had massaged Nadine's feet while Carol fucked her.

Then his cock was out of her mouth and in mine, Nadine licking his balls. An ephemeral taste, and then his determination not to cum, to save the intensity of his need. He moved away from the bed and lost to us. I returned to Nadine's lips, her brother's essence lingering there, a memory shared.

I thought this my chance, that I might now sample her sweetness, fuck her while she spoke to me in her native language. But when I went to open her legs so that I could be between them, she reached and stroked my cheeks, whispered, "No. I must take a moment. Such a happening over and over . . . It is too much for me. I must break from it all."

She kissed me one more time, slipped from off the bed and hurried into the bathroom.

The chronology swirls and coalesces from here.

I certainly remember Frank and Nadine together. They lay to my left; he propped on arms as Doric columns, her beneath him, her hands outstretched to stroke his cheek. Her eyes never deviated. Carol asked me to budge up, move along — there were five in the bed, and the little one said . . .  As she and Ruth climbed aboard, I moved closer to Nadine and became envious that she was with Frank. I resented how she had run from me earlier, and I simmered with malice as Frank fucked her tenaciously. He was determined to make her cum by fucking alone.

And to my right, when she lay down for Carol, Ruth turned to me and said, "It's happening, Paul. Me and Carol." Then she turned her head from me and looked up into Carol's eyes.

"You ready for this, babe?" Carol said, giving one last adjustment to her strap-on before pushing forward

"Oh, god, am I ever," Ruth replied, now desperate for it to begin.

 Frank to one side of me,  Carol to the other, their respective lovers beneath them. To my right and left, a commotion of limbs before the heaving began. Rising grunts and moans, the bed unsteady like a small boat in a squall. Frank to one side Carol the other, each rising and falling above their partners like victorian automata set running. Sometimes they would synchronise, their climb and descent in perfect unison, but then Frank would inevitably outpace Carol, only for him to lap her like the fastest runner on a circuit often does the slowest. As he passed Carol one more time, their rise and fall would mesh once more; for a moment only.

I turned to watch Carol and Ruth, placed my palm on Carol's rump and ran my hand over her curves and softness. I saw how the strap-on she used was not ideal,  how it was slackening from her exertions, and how she had to adjust herself to keep it where she needed it to be. I gathered strapping and gripped with a clenched hand.  It became tight about her, and I felt her pace grow more assured, more confident because of my adjustment. I thought it quite beautiful to help Carol in this way, and also sense her rise and fall beneath my hand sensing the nuances of her lovemaking.

How can I describe everything? I can't. There was constant movement. Rearrangements. At one time the three girls were laid out side by side, Ruth to the right, Carol the middle, Nadien the left. They would turn their heads and kiss, their bodies still supine, motionless.

Jan was on the sofa. Frank went to him and took his cock in hand, said, "It's time." He led the boy to his sister, gently tugging him along by his penis, like a dog on a leash. Nadine was ready, her lines rehearsed, she welcomed him into her arms like a whore at the end of a long day. Her legs mechanically parted as Jan positioned himself between them. He entered her with practised ease, fucked his sister like she were his dear old wife, slowly, distractedly. I wondered how often they had performed this act; for others, for themselves.

Even so, it was magical to see them together. In the half-light of the room, the white of their flesh appeared to bleed and run until they were a single pale undulation of flesh. The wrongness was profound; their mingling beauty sublime.    

I went to Carol, who lay on her side beside the twins, watching them making love. I turned her onto her back, and she smiled when she saw was it was me. I kissed her, mounted and began to fuck her.  And as I fucked her, Nadine and Jan whispered to each other in long breathy sentences that made no sense. I tried to intuit the meaning of their words but the pitch and cadence of their voices led my mind astray, and I thought how they might indeed be cuckoos from Midwich, alien seed raised for indecency alone. I thought of all the things Frank might have them do together.

Later, Ruth lying between Nadine and Jan allowing the siblings to use her as they pleased. Frank stood at the foot of the bed, glass in hand, the darkness of whiskey colouring the ice as he watched Jan sodomise Ruth. The boy did not turn her onto her belly like Frank, and I had days before. Lying on her back, he raised her buttocks with pillows and then greased himself thoroughly. A matter of centimetres below her cunt, but from where I stood I could not see which hole he had chosen. It was her expression that told the tale.

 I went and stood by Frank's side to better see. I realised I hardly knew the woman on the bed. Our marriage had until now been one long half-dream.

 Frank turned, said to me, "You haven't tried the boy yet, have you, twink? You should: he's even more of a girl than you."

I was exhausted and had no desire for Jan, at that moment, that is. Ruth could fill her boots — as he now filled her. My mind had been far from Ruth throughout the night. It was only later that I came to understand the profound effect everything that had happened was to have on her personality, her life. That night was an initiation — for us both. It opened the door to all that followed.

 Looking back on that night, a quote I once read comes to mind. It's from the Roman poet, Juvenal, his Satires:  "No one becomes depraved all at once."

That night was Ruth's third visit to Frank's Academy of depravity. I imagined her school report, written by Frank: Lately, Ruth has shown good progress. She has thrown herself into her undertakings. We expect even great things from her in the coming weeks.

                  ******************************************************

Not sure where to go with this next. I might do short peice on Frank and Amy, from Amy's point of view. I don;t know. I  have too many ideas bursting to get out.