With Wendy's Consent free porn video

As you recall, as I certainly do, and often, early April of my junior year at college was very...interesting. Dear, sweet Wendy, my gorgeous and sexy girlfriend, had vacationed cross-country with her parents, and I'd headed off to a speech convention, which turned into my first experience fucking another guy.

No, really.

Don't get me wrong, there is no way I'd leave Wendy for anyone else, regardless of their experience or sex. She is, for me, the ideal woman in so many ways. Happy, vivacious (that's a great word for her!), and totally in love with me, Wendy simply had no equal in any of my past relationships.

Her hair was a wonderful mix of auburn and copper, above and below, a gorgeous mane that spilled down her back, since she'd let it grow out the past few months. When she showered, it now stretched down to the small of her back, and more than once she came out of the bathroom naked except for her tresses, through which her nipples would play peek-a-boo until she lay down, warm and eager, next to me.

Like most redheads, her skin was fair as marble, but much softer and warmer. She had worked to get a little color, and sunbathed in the nude sometimes to avoid the inevitable cottontail she would have earned wearing a swimsuit. Her deep blue eyes and engaging smile were the least of her beauty, and far more than I thought I sometimes deserved. She kept fit, with a flat expanse of tummy between her inviting bush and the delicious breasts she flaunted every time she had the chance.

Any other woman might have run screaming from the room when she found out I'd let an old friend, a guy no less, fuck me when she was out of town. Wendy was different; she loved to ask me questions about it, and clearly wished she'd been able to watch, and maybe even participate.

Once when I was out of town visiting my parents for the weekend, she got herself off over the phone while having me recap those April exploits with James, my speech and erstwhile fuck partner. She urged me to describe, again, the sensation of having a cock in my mouth, and the feel of James' loins spurting hot semen all over my tongue and face. "God, honey, I wish I'd been there!" she said as I heard her orgasm releasing. I came myself, remembering the fun I'd had, and wishing she'd been there, too.

It was early June, and my last final had been on Tuesday, in History. Wendy had studied the whole week on Art Appreciation, and the Thursday morning final would be her last for the school year. For four days, we had no sex at all. Strange, I know, but my Wendy could really focus when necessary, and I'd pulled a couple of lonely all-nighters studying in the campus library until they threw us all out at midnight. Too tired to be horny, I'd promised myself I would work on her as soon as we had the chance.

Wednesday night, she came into her room, where I was sleeping, and practically passed out until morning, fully clothed. I awoke as she was sitting up, pulling off her blue pastel sweater to replace it with something less rumpled. Since meeting Wendy, I always slept naked, not wanting to have anything delay our need to rut, morning, noon or night.

My cock was fully awake, even though my eyes were bleary with sleep, and I reached over for her bare back as her sweater hit the floor. "Morning, babe," I mumbled, cupping her ass at an angle that threatened to sprain my wrist. "What time's your final?"

Wendy turned, and favored me with an exhausted grin, the kind that told me she'd rather have been fucking lazily all morning and afternoon than doing anything else. "About twenty minutes, honey. No time to take care of"—she stroked my erection quickly and lovingly through the sheets—"Mister Happy right now. Can't miss this one. The final's half my grade." She turned and leaned over to kiss me, opening her mouth too briefly, even as she patted my cock with her free hand, letting her tongue pass between my lips with a quick promise of more later. "We'll take care of him, and you, when I get back. Wish me luck!"

She pulled a fresh pair of overalls out of her dresser, shimmied into them, and strode out of the room while pulling on a lemon yellow sleeveless top, which barely hid her bra strap, or anything else I wanted to get off of her body so I could get her on top of me and start to fuck. Her beautiful, full breasts, surmounted by soft, pink nipples just the right size for nibbling and sucking on, filled my mind and I moaned softly, but she didn't hear me, or pretended not to. I could almost feel the warm wetness of her absent cunt, first rubbing on my crotch, her moan as she popped it inside her, and the motion of her hips humping me as she squeezed the walls of her pussy together, riding me for all I was worth.

The outside door slammed, and I heard Wendy lock it, then her footsteps down the walkway fading as she went to her car and drove off. All the while, my right hand was working on my shaft through the soft cotton sheets her parents had bought, almost like flannel, and a deep, luscious red that brought out the best in our lovemaking.

With my darling girlfriend gone for at least a couple of hours, and horny as hell, I started to jack myself off in earnest. The sheet was thin enough that the shape of my erect cock was plain to see to anyone else in the room, or would have been if anyone had been there, but I was alone, and ready to get myself off. Stroking my hard-on through the cover felt almost like Wendy rubbing through my pants at the theater, or just before she slipped out of her shirt or sweater and bra to go down on me.

I imagined being inside her, and that my fist was her cunt, until I started humping the air, lifting her phantom buttocks off the mattress, driving inside her as deep as I could go, and hearing her moans as I thumbed her clit with one hand, gripping her ass with the other. Then, I mentally shifted her position, so her imaginary mouth was on my very real cock.

I circled my shaft with my right hand, folding up some of the crimson sheet into a makeshift hole, a sac for my cock to fuck. Panting hard, I used my left hand, which (in my mind's eye) couldn't reach her ass while she sucked my cock, and ran my left thumb and forefinger over my straining head, simulating her velvety tongue. I knew it wasn't a real blowjob, and didn't care.

Telling myself that jacking off would help me last longer for her later, I humped the air in earnest, fucking her mouth with as much intensity as my poor horny imagination could muster. A small dot of pre-cum darkened the sheet at the very top of my cock's fuck-tent, and I knew I was close.

Since April, Wendy loved to watch me jack off, urged me to do it some mornings when I awoke ready for her, sometimes joining me herself, naked and rubbing her clit, spreading her wonderful reddish bush to show me the pink gates of heaven just beyond the cloud of red pubes. She told me once she gladly would have lain back and finger-fucked herself while watching me do myself, but she just had to watch, and didn't want to waste any opportunity to see me taking care of my own pleasure.

"Imagine," she once whispered to me, spreading her lips with one hand and massaging her swollen clit with two fingers of the other hand, "imagine you're fucking him again, letting him suck your cock. Aah!" She probably would have closed her eyes to watch the scene in her own head, but she would have missed seeing my orgasm, and that was what she wanted.

"Fuck him in the ass, honey! I want to see your big cock inside his ass, pumping him full of hot cum. Oh, honey, fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. His legs are up in the air, and you're fucking his ass like it was my pussy. Keep fucking, keep fucking! Ah! Ooooh!" she panted, and I was very close then, too, watching and listening not only to her words, but the slickness of her juices, a slippery, wet sound as she brought them to coat her clit, rubbing it to the point of her own orgasm.

Her voice had risen in approaching ecstasy, and I saw the effort it was taking her not to scream her next words. Instead, they came out in a husky whisper, taut with need. "Cum, baby! Cum in his ass. Don't pull out yet! Oh, God I want you to cum on him and in him, shoot your wad all over his face and chest, but the first spurt has to be inside him, in his asshole. I want your cum inside him, honey! Do it. Oh God you're close I can tell oh fuck him fuck him fuck him oh baby I'm cumming too can you feel it...I...I...I..."

We came at the same moment, a trick we'd managed only once before with me inside her, and Wendy had immediately bent down to take my still spurting cock into her mouth, sucking the cum out of it, nearly making me shoot again seconds later. In the following moments, she'd transferred her mouth to mine, sharing the still-warm load she'd taken from me, with me.

I love my Wendy so very much.

My legs were shaking now, quivering with the need for release. I knew I was going to cum, and the memory of the taste of my own semen had me even hornier, if that were possible. Whipping off the covers, I started jacking my naked hard-on even faster, and felt the low roar of a building orgasm deep in my balls and belly. Without stopping to consider, I bent double, still masturbating, and brought my feet up to the headboard, aiming my cock at my own face below.

The first shot missed my open mouth, jetting instead onto my chin, where my eager tongue caught an edge of it, the merest promise of what was about to arrive. Gasping with the force of my orgasm, I felt the second spurt shoot into my open mouth, laying a line of fluid down the center of my tongue. It was hot and sticky, slippery, and I kept myself still, having found the "sweet spot" on the second try. My cum gushed into my mouth, four, five more times before the flood became a trickle, and I unbent, lying on my back and swallowing.

After the pulsing in my loins and the shaking of my legs had subsided, I glanced at the clock. Just after nine o'clock, so Wendy would be returning in another hour or so, if the final went well.

Levering myself out of bed, I went into the bathroom and showered the cum away before soaping my body off, then washed my hair. Rinsing the last of the cum off my lips and off my tongue, I stepped out and toweled off, noting my cock was still sort of semi-hard, pleased that I could still take care of Wendy when she returned in another half-hour or so.

Shaving quickly, I put on a pair of patterned boxers, then tossed on a loose pair of jeans and a blazing red t-shirt adorned with the lightning bolt and white circle of The Flash. No socks, since I didn't expect to be wearing even this much by ten-thirty. A bowl of cereal and some apple juice on the side table, I flicked on the remote, and started watching TV, my mind completely off the shopping channel I settled on, and on Wendy's naked body, and how we would celebrate her final, and her birthday.

Birthday?! Aw, fuck! I put down the bowl on the coffee table, sloshing only a couple of drops of milk onto it, and wishing not for the first time one of us had a dog to clean up spilled food, then bounded to the kitchen, where her wall calendar was posted by the phone. It was kind of girly, with pictures of kittens tumbling about with yarn, or sitting bemused in wicker baskets. She privately called it her Pussy Calendar, since she used it to track her periods, chuckling over being so naughty, even just with me.

I looked at the current week, and saw the times of both our finals. I didn't live with her, at least not just yet, but she'd carefully included mine on the calendar too. Scanning to Thursday, I saw the note for her final, showing eight to ten o'clock, and a little star inked at the bottom right corner, the color of gold. I pulled the calendar gently off the hook, and flipped back to March. My birthday had the same gold star scrawled in the same spot.

It was her birthday, and I needed to do more than just fuck her to help her celebrate. My Wendy deserves that, for all she does. Thinking furiously, I realized I would have to take her to dinner at least. Fuck! You selfish asshole!, I berated myself. She was great on your birthday, and you need to do something! Right fucking now! I knew she would forgive me if I forgot; it was finals and she was like that, but I was damned if I was going to make her feel like I had forgotten.

Tossing on shoes and socks, and leaving a sticky note on the door promising to return soon, I drove down to the supermarket six blocks down the road, which had a decent if fairly generic floral department, and bought a bouquet. I'd worked in a flower shop in high school, and found roses to be appreciated but a little obvious. Checking, I saw they had snapdragons, the flower of desire, and a few pink zinnia, symbols of my lasting affection. I had the bewildered and obviously clueless middle-aged woman at the floral counter add a dozen of each to a dozen red roses, showing (of course) my love for Wendy.

I made it back to the apartment with my fragrant bundle of blossoms and hurtled up the stairs to find my note was still there. Good! I made it back before Wendy. I crumpled the note and tossed it in the wastebasket, setting the bouquet aside gently so it wouldn't fall off the kitchen table, out of sight of the door to her apartment. Grabbing the phone, I glanced at the stove clock. It was just after ten, so I called her favorite Italian restaurant, and thankfully found a table for us at around nine o'clock that evening.

Straightening the living room as best I could with the minutes left to me, I tossed the now warm bowl of cereal in the disposal, and washed the few dishes in the sink, before wiping up the spilled milk from earlier. Her bra and panties from the previous weekend were still next to the couch, mementos of our last passionate coupling, and I picked those and some other pieces of clothing off the floor, tossing them into the wicker laundry bin in her room. Making the bed, I was relieved to see that my cum had only, or at least mostly, only hit me, and there was no visible trace of it on the sheets. Tossing the bedspread over it and fluffing the pillow, I hoped it would show my careful consideration of how best to surprise her, and not betray the frantic speed with which I'd started.

Then, I settled down to wait. I should vacuum, I thought, then saw it was ten-thirty already. That won't do. I want her to come home to a clean apartment, not see me in the middle of cleaning it. The living room looked fine, so I sat back to watch the television, which had remained steadfastly on, diligently entertaining an empty room even as I'd run around to cure my omissions.

After what seemed a long time, I looked again at the clock in the kitchen. Eleven straight up. She was late! I hoped her final hadn't been a disaster. That would make any of my preparations seem inappropriate. I pictured Wendy collapsed against me, sobbing with the knowledge of a wasted Spring quarter.

This time I did vacuum, then dusted the living room, hoping that she would be happy when she got home, dreading that she might not be. When I finished, it was nearly eleven-thirty, and still no sign of her. By now, I was concerned something had happened to her, but had no idea what it might have been.

Just before noon, she came through the door, leaving it open behind her. At the sound of her key, I'd grabbed the bouquet, still fresh, and held it behind my back. Wendy walked in with a couple of paper sacks from the same store whose floral department had, I hoped, saved me, and set them down.

"Happy birthday, gorgeous!" I handed her the bouquet with a flourish, and swept her into my arms. She beamed at me, and accepted my kiss gratefully. Something clinked in them. "What's that, Wendy?"

"I picked up a couple of things, in case you forgot it was my birthday. Thank you for not forgetting! I love you!" Laughing, she returned my embrace and kissed back fervently, and I felt my cock responding to the lovely warmth pressed against me. Cupping her ass, I started to kiss down her neck, intent on getting her breasts free of their underwire prison.

"Ahem." Shit, the door's still open! I turned my face from the hollow in Wendy's neck, still nibbling at it, and saw a guy coming in after Wendy and shutting the door. He wore a light navy windbreaker over a polo shirt and cream-colored slacks, and I almost didn't recognize him, at least with clothes on.

Wendy kissed me again, grinning. "Guess who I ran into after my finals?"

It was the guy who I'd watched on top of me, his dick pistoning inside my then-virgin asshole, and the same guy I'd swapped cum with after our mutual blowjobs, and the one person Wendy fantasized about seeing me get hot and heavy with. If anything, my cock was harder than ever, when I replied with a weak, "Hello, James."

The bag, it turned out, contained some Chinese food for lunch, and three bottles of wine. I arched an eyebrow at her, and she whispered in my ear, "It is my birthday!" Nibbling on my earlobe for a fugitive second she pulled reluctantly away, and helped me get some plates out for the three of us to eat.

She'd certainly bought enough food, and I knew we'd have plenty of leftovers, no matter how much James partook in the minor feast. Over spring rolls, sweet and sour pork and Mongolian beef, we chatted about school. James had, it turned out, been in Wendy's Art Appreciation class, which seemed odd, since he was a Communications major, working on breaking into radio. Speech forensics was more his style, not art.

"So, when did you decide to take the course?"

He smiled, blue eyes twinkling over a mouthful of the beef. "It turned out I needed some more General Ed credits, something outside my major. Wendy didn't tell you we've been in the same class all quarter?" She hadn't.

"Honey, I barely saw him. I mean, you're the one who really knows him, right?" She did well to hide the sardonic leer I knew was lurking behind her innocent smile. She knew, and I realized that James knew she knew that he'd been the one, my first blowjob. It seemed impossible that the subject hadn't come up while they were in class, or study hall, and she was right.

I do know him better, and not just in a Biblical sense. I laughed at the image of what my old minister would have said to the sight of my sucking off another guy, letting him shoot his seed—that's what they called it in the Good Book—into my mouth and swallowing all of it. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

What the hell is going on? Does she want to talk more about it, maybe get his memories of the event? Still, it was her birthday, and I wasn't going to spoil it for her. I shifted in my chair, and regretted it instantly, as the taut denim rubbed at my shaft, awakening it as I wolfed down my lunch, wishing I was gorging myself on her tits and pussy instead. My hard-on twitched in sympathy, wanting to bury itself in a warm, moist place right now, but being held back like a horny dog by its master.

"So, James, what did you think of the class?" I hoped they didn't realize I was trying very hard to change the subject away from double entendres.

He grinned again, his twinkling blue eyes the perfect complement to Wendy's own, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. Why is he here?

James told us both how much he'd enjoyed the class, and Wendy's insights into many of the artists, Monet and Klimt in particular, though I could swear that at least once he'd left the "m" out of the latter's name. Wendy must have heard it too, because she chuckled a couple of times.

The conversation continued for about an hour, before Wendy and I as host and hostess rose to clean up after the lunch, putting three of the six containers into our fridge, and giving the other three, emptied of their contents, a decent if hasty burial in the garbage under the sink. Apparently food was good for what ailed me, or at least a good substitute, because while I still felt frisky enough for a whole room of Wendys—and what a thought that was!—my erection had subsided to a semi-state, but still ready to go to full attention.

Throughout, neither one of them had said anything more about the April episode. I was relieved, since I hadn't even spoken to James in the intervening weeks. Not out of guilt, mind you, but because speech season was over, and we'd both had classes to go to, and I of course had Wendy.

After lunch, we broke open the first bottle, a decent red, and settled into the living room to catch up on current and personal events. Wendy chatted happily, seemingly oblivious to my wish to get her into bed, but I remembered later she kept everyone's glasses full, stinting no more on anyone's wine than on her own. By mid-way through the third bottle, the three of us shared a warm, happy glow, free of cares for the time being.

Wendy looked at me over the rim of her wine glass, and winked, before setting it down on the coffee table in front of us. "So, how about that elephant in the room?" Turning to James, who sat in the chair beside hers. Her eyes now glowed with alcohol and horniness, and her voice was husky with the effort of speaking. Wendy's face was red and warm, not, I realized, with embarrassment, but with lust.

"James," she started breathlessly, gazing into his eyes and nodding her head towards me, "he told me about your conference. How you sucked each other off, then fucked each other in the ass. It made me hot just to think about it, still does. I love to go down on him, let him fuck my mouth until he shoots hot cum into it, and all over me. I didn't used to, but now I swallow. Sometimes," she leaned closer with a devilish leer, "sometimes I kiss him with my mouth full of his cum, and we share it between us. I think he likes it," she added unnecessarily, leaning closer, almost nose-to-nose with him, and my heart began to thunder in my chest.

"Did you swallow when he came in your mouth, James?"

Though he had seemingly been mesmerized by the wine and her charms working in concert, James shook himself, gaping at her while he tried to answer.

"Did you swallow? Or share?" Her voice was low and insistent; James was powerless to resist her question, and I don't think he really wanted to.

"Both," he croaked. "Both, swallowed and shared. His cum and mine, W-Wendy." He's as nervous as I am, I marveled. James seldom had any trouble with women, and was very, very successful with them as a rule. Maybe that was why he was nervous, since I was the only guy he'd bedded, or at least so I assumed.

Wendy leaned into James, and kissed him on the mouth, pulling back before he could do more than start to pucker his lips. Standing, she took both our hands, and led us to the middle of the room, a little unsteady, whether from the wine or nervousness I wasn't sure. She turned to me first and put one arm around me, and the other around James' waist, drawing us closer to her on either side. Settling her smoldering gaze on my eyes, she dropped her voice to a sultry coo. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"Of course I love you, sweetheart." She rewarded me with a kiss, and the merest flick of her tongue between my lips. Wendy smiled, turning now to James. "I've got a birthday wish, and I need both of you to make it come. True." She giggled a little bit at the suggestive turn of phrase, which she somehow made seem very sexy and not at all vulgar. James looked at me, then at her, licking his lips as he doubtless wondered what she wanted to do. I had a pretty good notion, I thought.

Wendy stood between James and me in a group hug that I was sure she wanted to turn into a group fuck, and started frenching me, then him, and then me again. She'd always loved kissing as foreplay, during the main event, and in the afterglow, and I could feel more than hear her moan as she kissed me again, deeply. I glanced down, past her closed eyes, and saw her hand stroking James' cock through his slacks. It was hard and obvious, and I wondered what she would do next, maybe drop to her knees and open his zipper before taking it into her waiting mouth.

Wendy opened her eyes and gave me a drowsy grin. "'S my birthday, right?" My throat had forgotten how to work, and I nodded dumbly in reply.

"Yay, me!" she laughed, and kissed James quickly, a little peck on his lips, and gave me the same, before pulling out of the three-way embrace, and backing away to the second-hand easy chair in the corner. She sat down with her eyes locked on the two of us guys, and picked up her wine glass again, taking a long drink from it.

When she set it down, the same lustful glow in her eyes seemed to have spread to her whole body. "James," she started breathlessly, with a sinuous stretch, "would you object to having my man wrap his mouth around your dick and suck it?" She wriggled on the last two words, a delicious shiver that I wanted to take advantage of, James watching or not. Her hands began to knead her tits through the yellow top, and her legs were spread as she sat back in the chair, reclining it and rocking, but leaving her pussy inviolate for now. She laughed once more, a naughty, low and horny sound, and my cock was ready for anything she wanted.

Her grin was feral, and my Wendy's laugh was an endearing sound, filled with a yearning I'd heard before in her bed, and in mine. It meant she was ready to enjoy what was about to happen, and eager to start. "Kiss him like you kiss me," she whispered, still watching.

I obeyed, taking James into my arms, and opening my mouth for his tongue to wrestle with mine. It had been a couple of months, but it was no less natural than before when we started to kiss, and continued for some minutes. I felt his ass through the thin slacks he was wearing, and our erections were pressed together side-by-side as we tried not to start humping too soon.

James' hands slipped past my waistband, burrowing beneath my jeans and boxers to my bare ass. He stroked my buttocks in time to our kissing, and heat rose inside me as I knew I would have to do what Wendy said, whether she'd asked me to or not. My eyes were closed, but I could hear Wendy's breathing, growing harsh in anticipation of the act we were going to present her with any moment.

Disengaging from James' hungry mouth, "Take my pants down, then yours," I ordered, and felt his hands slide out from the back of my pants, and start fumbling with the buttons on my fly. It took him seconds, and we continued kissing, until I felt him pull the denim and cotton down past my hips to my knees, where I shimmied them down to my ankles before stepping out of them to stand half-naked—the good half, I thought—in the center of the room.

Wendy giggled again. "Lover, he gets to suck you second. Do him first. Please!" I looked over, and her top formed a lemon yellow pool of fabric on the carpet by her feet, and she had set her right tit free from its prison. She was playing with the nipple, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger, but her eyes were on us still. The denim straps on her overalls, nearly as blue as her eyes, were off her shoulders, and the front panel spread like an apron, exposing everything from her waist and up. She clearly didn't intend to miss a moment.

James' slacks were tented from the straining member beneath them. Dropping to my knees, it was my turn to fumble with his belt, catch and zipper. Faster than I would have thought possible, I'd successfully released them, and, as a lighter fabric, less stiff than the denim I'd also been wearing, they slid off of him.

My breath caught in my throat, and I reached for James' briefs, but he hooked his thumbs at either side of the waistband and pulled them down, letting them fall to where his slacks lay on the floor, and stepped out of them. His cock was as magnificent as I remembered, and I remembered how I'd wanted to suck it before. Now, with Wendy watching, the thirst I felt for his cock and cum redoubled.

"You want that in your mouth, don't you, lover?" Wendy was practically purring, desire thick and heady in the early summer air. She was right, of course. I wanted to suck him off again, almost as much as she wanted to watch. I glanced over and she nodded in approval to both of us. James took off his polo shirt, standing naked in front of me, hard-on at the ready. I followed suit, kneeling as the cool air from the fan caressed my bare bottom. Of the three of us, only Wendy still wore anything at all.

Taking James' saluting cock in my hands, I lowered it, pointing it straight at me. The tension in his loins threatened to pull it back up, out of reach, so I parted my lips, licked them and put the swollen purple head just past them. The head of his cock was smooth, soft and warm, and I decided to take some time, draw things out for Wendy's sake, and my own to be honest.

Swirling my tongue around James' head, I heard his soft moan echoed by Wendy's, and started to bob back and forth, slightly at first, letting the motion work with my tongue and lips. I let my fingertips trail up his bare legs, felt him shiver at the feel of them, at last cupping his buttocks with both hands, feeling the muscles tighten in time to his swaying as he started, once more, to hump my eager mouth.

My eyes were closed by now, letting my other senses guide me down this recent and familiar road. James' hand was behind my head, guiding but not forcing, letting me keep control of the tempo. He tasted wonderful, sweat and musk and the drop of precum that reminded me of my jacking off that morning, and I was back in that hotel room, sucking him off for the first time, again.

Accustomed now to the mechanics of fellatio, I savored the feel of his cock, sliding in and out between my lips, my saliva his only lubrication, and the gentle tap of his cock on the back of my throat. Gripping his ass, I changed the speed up, quietly urging him to move more quickly, fuck me harder and faster. He obeyed the silent command, starting to use his hips more, humping my open mouth. His breathing was harsher now, and I knew his orgasm was very near.

Opening one eye a crack, I looked for Wendy. The chair was empty, but I had no time to wonder where she'd gotten to, as I felt her against my back, naked tits against me, her arms around my waist. She kissed the nape of my neck, then leaned around to whisper in my ear. "Let him shoot in your mouth. I want to see him cum all over your face, like you cum on mine. Be his cum-catcher, baby. Lick it all up!"

Her hips were grinding into mine, and I found myself wishing she had a strap-on dildo, so she could put it in my ass and hump away while I sucked James off. The mental picture I had, me on all fours with Wendy's fake hard-on fucking me, and James' real hard-on penetrating my mouth, was too much for me. Without any touch needed, I blew my load onto our carpet, groaning around the member I was sucking. The feeling was unreal, powerful, and so intense I felt my balls pulsing, pumping out gobs of semen, seemingly without end.

Willingness gave way to desperation, and I started bobbing my head, willing James to let the warm sticky fluid flood my mouth and tongue and throat, wanting the explosion to take place. He responded by humping even faster, holding my hair in a death grip, and moaning in time to his frenzied thrusts. Gritting his teeth against a scream, James' last moan was drawn out, and I felt his back arch in ecstasy.

The first pulsing of his cock signaled the coming rush of semen, and I pulled back, giving him room for the flood. I wasn't disappointed, and felt the first spurt of fresh cum hit my tongue even as my cock was subsiding, still twitching with the echoes of my orgasm. Wave after wave of hot cum washed into my mouth, and I pulled away from him, letting the last couple of spurts wash over my nose and forehead.

Wendy was still spooned against me, and I pulled away, turning around. Facing each other on our knees, we threw our arms around each other, sharing another man's cum for the first time, swallowing it, reveling in it. When our mouths were empty, she kissed and licked away the gobs of it cooling on my face, and we shared these, too.

She was wearing only peach-colored panties now. Wendy had cast off her overalls just before she'd joined us, and they lay stiffly by the lemon yellow top and her discarded bra. I slipped a hand under the silken fabric of her panties, and worked it down underneath her, only managing to brush one of my fingertips against the outside of her pussy at the very bottom of her. The hot, wet fragrance of her filled the room. Rocking her hips, Wendy opened her eyes, and said gently, "Lie back."

I did, and James stepped aside, I assume, because he was now no longer behind me, and stood watching me get onto my back. Wendy climbed onto my face, and I realized the peach panties were crotchless, and she planted her moist pussy squarely on my mouth, lip to lip, and started to hump my face, in a very different way from what I'd experienced just moments earlier.

She was grinning, a broad, happy beaming smile, and my heart caught in my chest as I knew she was enjoying all of it. "You did good, so good, sweetie! Oh, god, you let him cum in your mouth! I want that wonderful tongue inside me. I don't care if you're tired, it's my birthday!" No other woman could have made that last word sound as lusty and demanding as my Wendy, and I was eager to bring her all the way to orgasm, no matter how tired she thought I was.

Her juices tasted almost like honey, sweet and thick. Wendy leaned forward, bracing herself with her palms on the carpet, and rolled her hips back and forth on my waiting mouth. I reached around beneath her, hands coming over and holding her hips, and brought her down further as I started to lick her.

The nearly pinkish hair at her crotch was almost red in the late afternoon light pouring into the room from the kitchen. Had we really been talking and drinking that long? Her clit was swollen, tender, and I loved it with my mouth, kissing and tonguing it, savoring the moistness and the flavor of her. Probing her cunt with my tongue, I pushed it inside the opening, and it was her turn to moan when my middle finger, still reaching over and past her hip, gently flicked her clit in time to the tongue thrusts I was giving her.

She pressed her pussy fiercely into my face, and I stiffened my tongue, alternately darting it in and out of the moistness there, and swirling it around her clit. The lacy opening in the center of the panties caressed my tongue with every motion, sensuously scr****g it with every movement of her hips.

Wendy moaned, a low, husky sound that brought my cock stirring back to wakefulness. I felt her lean to take more weight onto one arm, and then she reached for her pussy with the other hand, sliding them under the waistband of the peach fabric which covered almost nothing. Her fingers covered her bush, leaving barely enough room for my tongue and lips, then she spread her lips, tightening the sensitive flesh, pulling back any cover her clit had.

Concentrating now on her naked clit, I tongued and sucked at the fragile nub, bathing the smooth, tight skin with my saliva and her juices. "Oh, God, honey! You're so good!" She gasped as I redoubled my efforts, and heard her moan again, something incoherent, but quite clear nonetheless. Her hips worked to and fro, desperately humping my mouth in time to my frenzied cunt-lapping. Her back arched while she held back a scream, and I knew Wendy just came.

"Suck it, baby. Yes, suck it! Just do it, you know you want it. Suck it 'til I come!" Wendy didn't slow at all, but straightened herself up, riding my face now like a saddle. She humped faster, almost forcing my face into the carpet, when I realized she wasn't talking to me. Glancing up between her naked thighs and past the lace border, I saw she was looking over her shoulder.

Two lips suddenly gripped my shaft, gobbling my cock while I ate Wendy's beautiful pussy. Her laugh was triumphant, and she held her gaze as best she could, to watch my cock being sucked. "Oh, James, take it all into your mouth, and lick every inch of him. Suck him...oh!...off! Let him shoot his wad in your mouth, James. I want his cum on your face, and we'll lick it off. We'll both lick it off, won't we honey?" My moan was answer enough for her, and the nod of my head gave her another spasm of pleasure, which I knew was another orgasm.

It seemed like hours I'd been eating my lovely Wendy's pussy, but it couldn't have been that long. I didn't want it to end—God, but I didn't!—but I felt my second orgasm build, and I knew I couldn't hold back for much longer. My face and Wendy's thighs were wet with her juices, and she kept humping my face, even as she sat up to peer at our guest and his contribution to our fucking.

My toes began to tingle with the onset of my orgasm, and, impossibly, I started to lick her even faster, and she groaned with a lust and vigor that were no longer contained by anything at all. Her quick pants turned into deep, throaty growls, gradually rising in pitch and volume. "Oh God! Ah, ah, ah, ah! Oh fuck me fuck me lick me I want your tongue to fuck my pussy more oh god oh god! Fuck my cunt with your mouth, darling. Fuck me with your mouth while he sucks your...Oh God!"

Wendy shook as an earthquake tore through her body. She screamed in release, chest heaving and shaking with the force of it. Her smooth, pale belly quivered in reaction to my frantic licking. She took one of her breasts, ran her tongue over the aureole, then flicked the curdled, erect flesh of her nipple. She moaned again, as a few tears of joy ran down her cheeks, a reaction she'd had only a couple of times before.

Still James worked my cock with his talented lips and tongue, running the latter along the length of my rod, stopping at the junction between the shaft and the head before plunging down, swallowing me whole.

"Cum, honey." Wendy stroked my face, beaming, her eyes still wet. "I want to share it with you...and him. Cum." It took no more than that to send me over the edge, and hot semen boiled into James' mouth, as it still bobbed along my shaft, drawing every last drop out of me. My loins pulsed, almost convulsing with the effort, subsiding after some time I didn't care to measure, only experience.

Wendy was off of me now, and I peered down my naked torso, too worn out to lift my head more than an inch off the carpet, and watched Wendy and James open their mouths to share my load. Their tongues swam in the creamy fluid, their tongues moving in and out of each other's mouths, bathed in my thick wad.

A moment later, her mouth still partly full of cum, Wendy helped me sit up, and the three of us shared the gift I'd given both of them, savoring and licking and swallowing. Each of us gathered little bits of it from both our playmates' lips and cheeks, cleaning each other up. Before long, we collapsed into a group hug of sorts, lazily making out in the afterglow.

Once we had recovered, I noticed the day had faded to ruddy sunset, bathing the room and our three bodies, two naked, the third all but, with its reddish light. I hazarded a glance at the clock on the wall. It was just after eight o'clock, scarcely an hour before the birthday dinner I'd planned. "Sweetheart", I started, then started again because my voice was also terribly weak from our loveplay. "Sweetheart, we're supposed to be at dinner in an hour, at Manfredi's. I made reservations."
Wendy kissed me leisurely, letting her tongue roam all over mine for several moments, and gave me a longing stare before speaking. "You know, we've got a couple of choices. We could add our guest"—she put her arm around his waist, patting James' hip—"to the reservation." Turning, she asked him, "You like Italian?"

He nodded in drowsy happiness, eyes still closed.

Wendy giggled now. "Well, do we go out, or stay in?"

As it turned out, we did both.