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Tim's Temptation - Part Two free porn video
“Have you decided?” Christina asked.
They had been fucking for nearly an hour: Chris on her back, ankles on his shoulders, Tim buried deep inside her; next, Chris on her knees, Tim penetrating from behind with long, slow strokes; then Chris on top, nipples pert, beads of sweat on her bobbing tits. Having already come twice, Chris was thoroughly wet and ready for more but Tim, finally unable to keep control, had released the tension that had built steadily from his balls. He could repeat but usually only after a rest and some oral ministration from his partner. Meanwhile, they lay side by side on the bed with an important matter to discuss.
“You want to go, don’t you?” said Tim.
“I do. Very much, after what you’ve told me. But it’s different for me. You’re the one who has the big decision to make. And Cheryl, of course. But she seems willing. Keen even.”
“She is. That’s why it’s so tricky. Everything will come down to me. If we go, it will happen. I just know it will. Maybe not then, but soon. It so nearly did the first time.”
Chris reached up and tenderly caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. It was no small dilemma. Cheryl was Tim’s mother.
A forty-seven-year-old divorcee, Cheryl had become involved in a threesome with a blonde named Moira and her husband, Victor. While Chris had been away at a company weekend seminar, Tim - planning a surprise lunch with his mother - had stumbled upon Cheryl and Moira in bed together. Thanks to Cheryl’s remarkably cool assumption of control, they had managed to deal with the situation.
Vividly imprinted on Tim’s mind was the memory of that scene, his mother calmly removing from her cunt the vibrator Moira had been using on her, switching it off and summing up the dilemma. “Look,” she had said. “We can’t put the genie back in the bottle, so what are we going to do? Get dressed, pretend it didn’t happen, and never be able to look at each other again without remembering?”
There was some awkwardness and embarrassment at first but Cheryl, still on heat, had urged Tim and Moira to fuck while Moira resumed licking her. As Moira neared her climax, Cheryl fingered her blonde friend to orgasm, then took Tim’s cock and stroked it until her tits were covered by his cum. That was as far as it went between the two of them.
Afterwards, it was again Cheryl who spelled out the possibilities before them.
“We have to decide whether that was a one-off or whether we want more. For my part, I do. But I think you two - Tim especially - need to consider for a day or two. Not only if you want to continue, but if you do, you have to decide whether there are going to be certain limits.”
Moira didn’t need two days. Having experienced Tim’s cock, she was very much in favour, proposing that the next time she and her husband, Victor, were having a threesome with Cheryl, Tim should bring Christina to join them. That was the proposition Tim and Chris were discussing as they lay in bed, the post-coital glow slowly ebbing as a prelude to the next session.
“I think we should go,” said Tim eventually. “I admit the idea of seeing you in action with either of them, or with Victor for that matter, is a huge turn-on for me. And if you were being well looked after, I can’t deny that I would like another go at Moira.”
“And Cheryl?”
“I just don’t know. As I’ve said, I can easily see it happening. But I’ll only know for certain when the moment comes.” Another thought occurred to him. “How would you feel - watching us?”
Chris thought for a long while. Then she said, “I suspect I would find it incredibly erotic. In the right circumstances, that is. I mean, we couldn’t just walk in and get down to it. But if we were all there - the other two as well - and things were working out ... you know what I mean, that maybe there had already been enough happening to turn us all on, I think then it might just happen naturally. And yes, of course I would want to watch. Maybe be part of it.”
The thought had been enough to arouse Tim’s cock. Chris reached for it, stroked it, sat up and straddled him. When he was inside her, she said, “It’s the most marvelous feeling in the world, isn’t it, the way we do it?”
Tim nodded.
“So I can understand any woman wanting to do this with you.”
“Well, it will have to wait until they all get back, anyway.” He reminded Chris that Cheryl had gone on a Caribbean cruise with Moira and Victor, which may have held the promise of plenty of sex for them but for the time being postponed any opportunity for all five of them getting together. “So I guess we’ll just have to make out own entertainment.”
“Right,” said Chris. “But am I going to have to do all the work?”
She began to ride his cock, simultaneously handling her tits. Tim responded by lifting her off him, turning her on to her back and pressing his head between her open thighs. His tongue sought and found a protruding clit, already wet with her internal juices. As he licked, Chris began to buck and thrust, pushing her cunt into his face, seemingly unable to stop herself driving to a quick orgasm. Sensing what was happening, Tim backed off, sat up and looked down at his partner, ripe with lust, writhing on the bed.
“Bastard. Don’t do this. For Pete’s sake finish me off. Imagine you’re doing it to Cheryl. But just do it. I was so nearly there.”
Cheryl? Imagine it was his mother lying there begging him to fuck? The thought coursed through like an electric current. By then he was too far gone, resistance not an option. Taking his cock in his hand, he pressed it against Chris’s opening. The labia parted and he felt himself being sucked inside. As they started to fuck, he reached underneath, cupped his hands round Chris’s arse and pulled her on to him. This wasn’t their usual way the second time around, not the slow and sensual probing and testing, working the sensitive areas to a relatively gentle exchange of satisfied sighs. This was almost brutal, a fierce giving and taking, accompanied by effortful grunts from Tim and prolonged groans of encouragement from Chris. Somehow, she managed to come first but the accompanying contractions of her cunt muscles were all Tim needed to trigger his own fulfillment.
Soon they fell into a deep sleep, the fundamental question still unresolved.
*
Two days later, when Chris returned from work, Tim told her, “There was a phone call for you a little while ago. Youngish sounding woman with a Scottish accent. I asked if she wanted you to ring her but she said she’d call again later.”
Chris smiled. “You know who that is, don’t you?”
“Tell me.”
“Isabel. The girl from our Edinburgh office.”
Of course. Prompted, Tim remembered well. The weekend he had discovered his mother enjoying Moira’s tongue, Chris had been away at a company seminar where she had befriended Isabel, young, shy and - as it proved - with a limited and unhappy sexual past but a strong desire to rectify the situation in future. After a glass of wine too many, Isabel had poured her heart out and almost begged Chris to help her. When they ended up in bed together, Chris had concealed the fact that it was her first woman-to-woman experience, too. But she had extolled Tim’s virtues and suggested that Isabel might like to visit them and let happen what may. Somewhat to her surprise, Isabel had said she would like to. Since then there had been no contact. Until now. When the girl called again, Chris took the call in the bedroom, insisting that this was girls’ talk and Tim should leave them to it.
“Well,” she said, emerging to an impatient Tim, “how does this weekend suit you?”
“This weekend?”
“I invited her and she accepted. Want to join us?”
“Try and stop me. But what did she say?”
“Very little, really. The point of the call was to get me to talk to her mother - she’s an only child and even though she is twenty her parents keep a tight rein. Mother came on the line and said Isabel had told her how kind I’d been at the seminar (an edited version, no doubt) and was I sure it was all right for Isabel to visit me and my husband. My guess is that Isabel has painted us as Darby and Joan, kind of surrogate parents. I assured her that we were looking forward to the visit, would meet her at the airport and make sure she enjoyed herself. Think we can do that?”
“Try me.”
“I will. And so will she, I promise you.”
Chris insisted that she would go alone to meet Isabel who was likely to be little changed from the seminar: eager but nervous. “The drive back will give me a chance to settle her down a bit, try to find out how open-minded she is about the three of us together. I’ll try to give you a clue as soon as I can, but whatever you do, don’t jump on her until we are sure she’s ready. Her only experience with men hasn’t been good, but I’ve assured her that you know how to please a woman and she seemed to accept that. But make sure the wine is well chilled and then leave it to me to take the initiative.”
The softly-spoken young woman who shook Tim’s hand that Friday evening was close to the picture Chris had painted. Isabel was about Chris’s height and build, but darker complexioned, hair in short waves each side of an oval face, blue eyes, high cheekbones, a promisingly full mouth. She wore a dark trouser suit, no doubt the same outfit that Chris had removed on their previous encounter to discover larger breasts than had been apparent and excellent legs. Tim hoped that, as Chris had suggested, she was wearing knickers in his favourite black.
“I’ll just show Isabel the spare room,” said Chris. “She thought her mother would feel happier if she wore this outfit, but she tells me she has brought something ... more interesting to change into.”
Fifteen minutes passed very slowly before spare room door opened and the two women reappeared. To say that Tim was not disappointed would be an understatement. Isabel now wore a dark blue blouse with a high collar, but the addition, he presumed, of a good bra gave her breasts the prominence they obviously deserved. Her skirt was knee-length over dark stockings that did justice to elegant calves. Without being in any way flagrant, she was eminently sexy.
“Well?” asked Chris. “You could say something to a lady who dresses to please you.”
“I’m sorry,” said Tim. “Chris told me you were very pretty, but I think she was selling you short.”
Isabel bobbed her head awkwardly, clearly on unfamiliar ground. “Thank you.” Then after a pause and taking a deep breath: “She did tell me that black is your favourite colour.”
The evening, thought Tim, seemed to be getting off to a good start, but he knew he would have to wait to find out if Isabel’s remark meant what he hoped it did. They had agreed to have dinner at a local restaurant: Chris had argued that would keep the conversation general and give Isabel the chance to relax in their company.
Back at the apartment, the chilled wine forming small beads on their glasses, there was the briefest moment of uncertainty before Chris spoke. “I think I told you,” she said, smiling reassuringly at Isabel, “that Tim and I have no secrets from each other. So he knows how much I ... enjoyed your company before. But we both wondered if you would want to follow it up. Was it difficult?”
Isabel sipped wine thoughtfully. “It wasn’t easy. Once I’d made up my mind, you helped a lot by talking to Mother. But now I’m here, I feel almost as though I’ve surprised myself.”
“Nervous?”
“Yes, I suppose I am.”
“It’s natural. But nothing will happen unless you want it to. And any time you say stop, that will mean stop.”
“I hope I won’t want to. Last time was very precious. Exciting for me. The first time, you know?”
“Look, why don’t you come and join us - sit between us?”
Chris and Tim made room for her on the sofa. “Now, if we are going to enjoy this properly, there’s no point in being coy. Tim has been bursting to investigate under your skirt, so why don’t we start there? Are you all right?”
“I think so. I feel very wet.”
Nodding with the smallest inclination of her head to signal to Tim, Chris took the glass from Isabel, placed it on a side table and then leaned forward to kiss her. Tim saw the girl open her mouth to receive Chris’s tongue. Her eyes were closed and she reached for Chris’s breasts. When Tim put a hand on Isabel’s knee, he felt her go momentarily tense and then relax. Peeling back the skirt, he feasted his eyes on white thighs, caressed them gently. Isabel wriggled her bottom forward to allow him further progress.
Black knickers came into view. Tim sighed, waited, then eased her legs apart and felt with two fingers. The girl wasn’t mistaken. The moisture was all the evidence needed to demonstrate that she was already in a state of high arousal. But he knew it was important to remember that this was a relatively inexperienced young woman taking her first tentative steps in unfamiliar territory. They needed to lead her forward slowly until the desire between her thighs took charge and brushed aside any last remaining inhibitions. Tim reached across her, took Chris’s hand and guided it to the spot his fingers had vacated.
Ending their kiss, Chris said, “Isabel, darling, I think we are all overdressed. May I?”
Apparently unable to trust her voice, the girl turned her back so that that Chris could unbutton her blouse. When it was laid aside, Tim admired the breasts that responded so well to the support of a black bra. That, too, was removed and the nipples Chris had described as broad as a small coin were revealed. A few flicks with Chris’s tongue brought them instantly to prominence. Then she helped Isabel to her feet and unfastened the skirt. Stepping out of it, Isabel saw the yearning in Chris’s eyes as he took in the slim figure, the full tits, and the black ensemble below, garter belt, stockings and knickers. Chris gently turned her and bent her forward until her hands rested on the arm of the sofa. “Didn’t I tell you?” she asked Tim. “Isn’t this the most gorgeous arse?” Then to Isabel, “Still all right?”
“Yes,” in a small voice. “It’s good.”
Chris gestured to Tim. “Enjoy. Both of you. Take your time. And then, I think, the knickers.”
He stepped forward, ran his palms over the curves of a small, pert bottom, the knickers stretched tightly across rounded buttocks. His touch elicited a little sigh of gratification. He lingered, caressing, squeezing, exploring. A wriggle of Isabel’s bottom urged him to continue. Eventually, he slid his hands inside the waist elastic and, inch by inch, let the silky material glide down her thighs and all the way to the floor. His cock had never felt so stiff, so in need of the welcoming wetness of a hungry cunt. “Isabel,” he said, “you are so very sexy - I hope you are going to want to fuck.”
“Patience,” interjected Chris quietly. “I get a share of this, too, and I think Isabel may feel the next thing is for her to undress me.” She retrieved the discarded black knickers and handed them to Tim. “If you’re going to watch, I suggest you strip off, sit over there and do some work on your cock so Isabel can see what a treat she has in store when you start to fuck.”
The explicit language was no accident. This was the next subtle stage of drawing out the inherent sexiness in their first-time partner, the breaking down of inherent shyness, the transition from a strict Calvinist upbringing to full awareness of her sexual potential. But softly, softly. “Please, Isabel. My turn.”
Isabel started with another deep kiss while opening and removing Chris’s blouse. The bra soon followed but then the Scots girl lingered to fondle the luscious tits and suck the nipples. When the last garment came off, Chris stooped to pass her pale beige knickers to Tim. He held them to his face while continuing to stimulate himself with the black knickers he had wrapped round his erection. His eyes remained fastened on the two women.
“What would you like?” Chris asked.
There was a pause while Isabel summoned her courage to ask a sexual favour of another woman while that woman's partner watched and masturbated. Then, very quietly: “Could you go down on me?”
“Yes, but we’ll be more comfortable now in the bedroom. Come with us, Tim - this is what you’ve been dying to see, isn’t it?”
Taking Isabel’s arm, she led the way into the bedroom. Urging her willing friend to lie back. Chris arranged pillows to support the Scots girl’s head and shoulders so that she could watch. Tim drew up the dressing table stool to the side of the bed and craned forward as Chris went to work.
She began with the nipples, teasing and gently nibbling. Then she worked her way down, paying attention to the navel, then stroking the neat triangle of dark hair, before nudging the thighs apart. Puffy labia hinted at a strong reaction to the preliminary stimulation. Parting the lips with her left hand to reveal the nub of a gleaming clitoris, Chris inserted two fingers of her right hand as far as the second joint. Then she withdrew them and offered them to Tim’s mouth. “Taste.”
When he licked off the moisture, Isabel gave a little gasp of surprised pleasure. Chris repeated the maneuver several times, each insertion probing a little deeper into Isabel’s generously lubricated depths. Continuing the finger fuck, she lowered her head to add the stimulation of her tongue. Isabel’s response was to try to raise her knees and press her pelvis into Chris’s face, but Chris used her weight to prevent that happening; it would have prevented Tim from continuing to enjoy his close-up view of an orgasm that was about to happen.
It began with a ripple of twitches in Isabel’s inner thighs. Her bottom began to buck, lifting from the bed. Chris grasped the thrusting buttocks and clamped her mouth across the opening cunt.
“Good, Isabel, good. Let it come now. Just let go.” The encouragement came from Tim, but it wasTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.
They had been fucking for nearly an hour: Chris on her back, ankles on his shoulders, Tim buried deep inside her; next, Chris on her knees, Tim penetrating from behind with long, slow strokes; then Chris on top, nipples pert, beads of sweat on her bobbing tits. Having already come twice, Chris was thoroughly wet and ready for more but Tim, finally unable to keep control, had released the tension that had built steadily from his balls. He could repeat but usually only after a rest and some oral ministration from his partner. Meanwhile, they lay side by side on the bed with an important matter to discuss.
“You want to go, don’t you?” said Tim.
“I do. Very much, after what you’ve told me. But it’s different for me. You’re the one who has the big decision to make. And Cheryl, of course. But she seems willing. Keen even.”
“She is. That’s why it’s so tricky. Everything will come down to me. If we go, it will happen. I just know it will. Maybe not then, but soon. It so nearly did the first time.”
Chris reached up and tenderly caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. It was no small dilemma. Cheryl was Tim’s mother.
A forty-seven-year-old divorcee, Cheryl had become involved in a threesome with a blonde named Moira and her husband, Victor. While Chris had been away at a company weekend seminar, Tim - planning a surprise lunch with his mother - had stumbled upon Cheryl and Moira in bed together. Thanks to Cheryl’s remarkably cool assumption of control, they had managed to deal with the situation.
Vividly imprinted on Tim’s mind was the memory of that scene, his mother calmly removing from her cunt the vibrator Moira had been using on her, switching it off and summing up the dilemma. “Look,” she had said. “We can’t put the genie back in the bottle, so what are we going to do? Get dressed, pretend it didn’t happen, and never be able to look at each other again without remembering?”
There was some awkwardness and embarrassment at first but Cheryl, still on heat, had urged Tim and Moira to fuck while Moira resumed licking her. As Moira neared her climax, Cheryl fingered her blonde friend to orgasm, then took Tim’s cock and stroked it until her tits were covered by his cum. That was as far as it went between the two of them.
Afterwards, it was again Cheryl who spelled out the possibilities before them.
“We have to decide whether that was a one-off or whether we want more. For my part, I do. But I think you two - Tim especially - need to consider for a day or two. Not only if you want to continue, but if you do, you have to decide whether there are going to be certain limits.”
Moira didn’t need two days. Having experienced Tim’s cock, she was very much in favour, proposing that the next time she and her husband, Victor, were having a threesome with Cheryl, Tim should bring Christina to join them. That was the proposition Tim and Chris were discussing as they lay in bed, the post-coital glow slowly ebbing as a prelude to the next session.
“I think we should go,” said Tim eventually. “I admit the idea of seeing you in action with either of them, or with Victor for that matter, is a huge turn-on for me. And if you were being well looked after, I can’t deny that I would like another go at Moira.”
“And Cheryl?”
“I just don’t know. As I’ve said, I can easily see it happening. But I’ll only know for certain when the moment comes.” Another thought occurred to him. “How would you feel - watching us?”
Chris thought for a long while. Then she said, “I suspect I would find it incredibly erotic. In the right circumstances, that is. I mean, we couldn’t just walk in and get down to it. But if we were all there - the other two as well - and things were working out ... you know what I mean, that maybe there had already been enough happening to turn us all on, I think then it might just happen naturally. And yes, of course I would want to watch. Maybe be part of it.”
The thought had been enough to arouse Tim’s cock. Chris reached for it, stroked it, sat up and straddled him. When he was inside her, she said, “It’s the most marvelous feeling in the world, isn’t it, the way we do it?”
Tim nodded.
“So I can understand any woman wanting to do this with you.”
“Well, it will have to wait until they all get back, anyway.” He reminded Chris that Cheryl had gone on a Caribbean cruise with Moira and Victor, which may have held the promise of plenty of sex for them but for the time being postponed any opportunity for all five of them getting together. “So I guess we’ll just have to make out own entertainment.”
“Right,” said Chris. “But am I going to have to do all the work?”
She began to ride his cock, simultaneously handling her tits. Tim responded by lifting her off him, turning her on to her back and pressing his head between her open thighs. His tongue sought and found a protruding clit, already wet with her internal juices. As he licked, Chris began to buck and thrust, pushing her cunt into his face, seemingly unable to stop herself driving to a quick orgasm. Sensing what was happening, Tim backed off, sat up and looked down at his partner, ripe with lust, writhing on the bed.
“Bastard. Don’t do this. For Pete’s sake finish me off. Imagine you’re doing it to Cheryl. But just do it. I was so nearly there.”
Cheryl? Imagine it was his mother lying there begging him to fuck? The thought coursed through like an electric current. By then he was too far gone, resistance not an option. Taking his cock in his hand, he pressed it against Chris’s opening. The labia parted and he felt himself being sucked inside. As they started to fuck, he reached underneath, cupped his hands round Chris’s arse and pulled her on to him. This wasn’t their usual way the second time around, not the slow and sensual probing and testing, working the sensitive areas to a relatively gentle exchange of satisfied sighs. This was almost brutal, a fierce giving and taking, accompanied by effortful grunts from Tim and prolonged groans of encouragement from Chris. Somehow, she managed to come first but the accompanying contractions of her cunt muscles were all Tim needed to trigger his own fulfillment.
Soon they fell into a deep sleep, the fundamental question still unresolved.
*
Two days later, when Chris returned from work, Tim told her, “There was a phone call for you a little while ago. Youngish sounding woman with a Scottish accent. I asked if she wanted you to ring her but she said she’d call again later.”
Chris smiled. “You know who that is, don’t you?”
“Tell me.”
“Isabel. The girl from our Edinburgh office.”
Of course. Prompted, Tim remembered well. The weekend he had discovered his mother enjoying Moira’s tongue, Chris had been away at a company seminar where she had befriended Isabel, young, shy and - as it proved - with a limited and unhappy sexual past but a strong desire to rectify the situation in future. After a glass of wine too many, Isabel had poured her heart out and almost begged Chris to help her. When they ended up in bed together, Chris had concealed the fact that it was her first woman-to-woman experience, too. But she had extolled Tim’s virtues and suggested that Isabel might like to visit them and let happen what may. Somewhat to her surprise, Isabel had said she would like to. Since then there had been no contact. Until now. When the girl called again, Chris took the call in the bedroom, insisting that this was girls’ talk and Tim should leave them to it.
“Well,” she said, emerging to an impatient Tim, “how does this weekend suit you?”
“This weekend?”
“I invited her and she accepted. Want to join us?”
“Try and stop me. But what did she say?”
“Very little, really. The point of the call was to get me to talk to her mother - she’s an only child and even though she is twenty her parents keep a tight rein. Mother came on the line and said Isabel had told her how kind I’d been at the seminar (an edited version, no doubt) and was I sure it was all right for Isabel to visit me and my husband. My guess is that Isabel has painted us as Darby and Joan, kind of surrogate parents. I assured her that we were looking forward to the visit, would meet her at the airport and make sure she enjoyed herself. Think we can do that?”
“Try me.”
“I will. And so will she, I promise you.”
Chris insisted that she would go alone to meet Isabel who was likely to be little changed from the seminar: eager but nervous. “The drive back will give me a chance to settle her down a bit, try to find out how open-minded she is about the three of us together. I’ll try to give you a clue as soon as I can, but whatever you do, don’t jump on her until we are sure she’s ready. Her only experience with men hasn’t been good, but I’ve assured her that you know how to please a woman and she seemed to accept that. But make sure the wine is well chilled and then leave it to me to take the initiative.”
The softly-spoken young woman who shook Tim’s hand that Friday evening was close to the picture Chris had painted. Isabel was about Chris’s height and build, but darker complexioned, hair in short waves each side of an oval face, blue eyes, high cheekbones, a promisingly full mouth. She wore a dark trouser suit, no doubt the same outfit that Chris had removed on their previous encounter to discover larger breasts than had been apparent and excellent legs. Tim hoped that, as Chris had suggested, she was wearing knickers in his favourite black.
“I’ll just show Isabel the spare room,” said Chris. “She thought her mother would feel happier if she wore this outfit, but she tells me she has brought something ... more interesting to change into.”
Fifteen minutes passed very slowly before spare room door opened and the two women reappeared. To say that Tim was not disappointed would be an understatement. Isabel now wore a dark blue blouse with a high collar, but the addition, he presumed, of a good bra gave her breasts the prominence they obviously deserved. Her skirt was knee-length over dark stockings that did justice to elegant calves. Without being in any way flagrant, she was eminently sexy.
“Well?” asked Chris. “You could say something to a lady who dresses to please you.”
“I’m sorry,” said Tim. “Chris told me you were very pretty, but I think she was selling you short.”
Isabel bobbed her head awkwardly, clearly on unfamiliar ground. “Thank you.” Then after a pause and taking a deep breath: “She did tell me that black is your favourite colour.”
The evening, thought Tim, seemed to be getting off to a good start, but he knew he would have to wait to find out if Isabel’s remark meant what he hoped it did. They had agreed to have dinner at a local restaurant: Chris had argued that would keep the conversation general and give Isabel the chance to relax in their company.
Back at the apartment, the chilled wine forming small beads on their glasses, there was the briefest moment of uncertainty before Chris spoke. “I think I told you,” she said, smiling reassuringly at Isabel, “that Tim and I have no secrets from each other. So he knows how much I ... enjoyed your company before. But we both wondered if you would want to follow it up. Was it difficult?”
Isabel sipped wine thoughtfully. “It wasn’t easy. Once I’d made up my mind, you helped a lot by talking to Mother. But now I’m here, I feel almost as though I’ve surprised myself.”
“Nervous?”
“Yes, I suppose I am.”
“It’s natural. But nothing will happen unless you want it to. And any time you say stop, that will mean stop.”
“I hope I won’t want to. Last time was very precious. Exciting for me. The first time, you know?”
“Look, why don’t you come and join us - sit between us?”
Chris and Tim made room for her on the sofa. “Now, if we are going to enjoy this properly, there’s no point in being coy. Tim has been bursting to investigate under your skirt, so why don’t we start there? Are you all right?”
“I think so. I feel very wet.”
Nodding with the smallest inclination of her head to signal to Tim, Chris took the glass from Isabel, placed it on a side table and then leaned forward to kiss her. Tim saw the girl open her mouth to receive Chris’s tongue. Her eyes were closed and she reached for Chris’s breasts. When Tim put a hand on Isabel’s knee, he felt her go momentarily tense and then relax. Peeling back the skirt, he feasted his eyes on white thighs, caressed them gently. Isabel wriggled her bottom forward to allow him further progress.
Black knickers came into view. Tim sighed, waited, then eased her legs apart and felt with two fingers. The girl wasn’t mistaken. The moisture was all the evidence needed to demonstrate that she was already in a state of high arousal. But he knew it was important to remember that this was a relatively inexperienced young woman taking her first tentative steps in unfamiliar territory. They needed to lead her forward slowly until the desire between her thighs took charge and brushed aside any last remaining inhibitions. Tim reached across her, took Chris’s hand and guided it to the spot his fingers had vacated.
Ending their kiss, Chris said, “Isabel, darling, I think we are all overdressed. May I?”
Apparently unable to trust her voice, the girl turned her back so that that Chris could unbutton her blouse. When it was laid aside, Tim admired the breasts that responded so well to the support of a black bra. That, too, was removed and the nipples Chris had described as broad as a small coin were revealed. A few flicks with Chris’s tongue brought them instantly to prominence. Then she helped Isabel to her feet and unfastened the skirt. Stepping out of it, Isabel saw the yearning in Chris’s eyes as he took in the slim figure, the full tits, and the black ensemble below, garter belt, stockings and knickers. Chris gently turned her and bent her forward until her hands rested on the arm of the sofa. “Didn’t I tell you?” she asked Tim. “Isn’t this the most gorgeous arse?” Then to Isabel, “Still all right?”
“Yes,” in a small voice. “It’s good.”
Chris gestured to Tim. “Enjoy. Both of you. Take your time. And then, I think, the knickers.”
He stepped forward, ran his palms over the curves of a small, pert bottom, the knickers stretched tightly across rounded buttocks. His touch elicited a little sigh of gratification. He lingered, caressing, squeezing, exploring. A wriggle of Isabel’s bottom urged him to continue. Eventually, he slid his hands inside the waist elastic and, inch by inch, let the silky material glide down her thighs and all the way to the floor. His cock had never felt so stiff, so in need of the welcoming wetness of a hungry cunt. “Isabel,” he said, “you are so very sexy - I hope you are going to want to fuck.”
“Patience,” interjected Chris quietly. “I get a share of this, too, and I think Isabel may feel the next thing is for her to undress me.” She retrieved the discarded black knickers and handed them to Tim. “If you’re going to watch, I suggest you strip off, sit over there and do some work on your cock so Isabel can see what a treat she has in store when you start to fuck.”
The explicit language was no accident. This was the next subtle stage of drawing out the inherent sexiness in their first-time partner, the breaking down of inherent shyness, the transition from a strict Calvinist upbringing to full awareness of her sexual potential. But softly, softly. “Please, Isabel. My turn.”
Isabel started with another deep kiss while opening and removing Chris’s blouse. The bra soon followed but then the Scots girl lingered to fondle the luscious tits and suck the nipples. When the last garment came off, Chris stooped to pass her pale beige knickers to Tim. He held them to his face while continuing to stimulate himself with the black knickers he had wrapped round his erection. His eyes remained fastened on the two women.
“What would you like?” Chris asked.
There was a pause while Isabel summoned her courage to ask a sexual favour of another woman while that woman's partner watched and masturbated. Then, very quietly: “Could you go down on me?”
“Yes, but we’ll be more comfortable now in the bedroom. Come with us, Tim - this is what you’ve been dying to see, isn’t it?”
Taking Isabel’s arm, she led the way into the bedroom. Urging her willing friend to lie back. Chris arranged pillows to support the Scots girl’s head and shoulders so that she could watch. Tim drew up the dressing table stool to the side of the bed and craned forward as Chris went to work.
She began with the nipples, teasing and gently nibbling. Then she worked her way down, paying attention to the navel, then stroking the neat triangle of dark hair, before nudging the thighs apart. Puffy labia hinted at a strong reaction to the preliminary stimulation. Parting the lips with her left hand to reveal the nub of a gleaming clitoris, Chris inserted two fingers of her right hand as far as the second joint. Then she withdrew them and offered them to Tim’s mouth. “Taste.”
When he licked off the moisture, Isabel gave a little gasp of surprised pleasure. Chris repeated the maneuver several times, each insertion probing a little deeper into Isabel’s generously lubricated depths. Continuing the finger fuck, she lowered her head to add the stimulation of her tongue. Isabel’s response was to try to raise her knees and press her pelvis into Chris’s face, but Chris used her weight to prevent that happening; it would have prevented Tim from continuing to enjoy his close-up view of an orgasm that was about to happen.
It began with a ripple of twitches in Isabel’s inner thighs. Her bottom began to buck, lifting from the bed. Chris grasped the thrusting buttocks and clamped her mouth across the opening cunt.
“Good, Isabel, good. Let it come now. Just let go.” The encouragement came from Tim, but it wasTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.
Virginia
- 12.06.2021
- 24
- 0
- Category:
- Incest
