Catherine Pays A Visit
- 3 years ago
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The Second Visit free porn video
Angela entered the hospital and easily found the coloured line to follow to the orthopaedic ward. It was early evening so the café had closed though the tacky gift shop was still open. She did not need those kinds of gifts.
Simon was in the same ward, with the same two elderly men with broken legs and an empty bed. One of the old men had an elderly woman and younger couple around his bed. The two men looked bored, the women were talking to each other. As before Simon was reading. He had not looked up when she had entered.
She looked at him a moment. He looked as if he had not moved in the three days since she last visited. The limbs were in the same place, the pillows behind his head were in the same place, his pyjamas looked the same. Though his straight hair and slightly chubby face were not particularly attractive, his concentration on the book gave him an intense, almost smouldering air. That, and the fact he had sustained his injuries saving her daughters’ lives, made his looks less important. It helped that she could still call up the memory of his solidly hard penis.
The old man with visitors called out, “It’s all right love. He won’t bite, he’s already been fed today.”
She gave him a coldly polite smile that stalled the two women’s titters. Simon had looked up at the man’s voice and now watched her as she approached. Without asking she took a chair and sat close to him, her back to the others in the room.
“Hello, again.” She said.
He nodded.
“How are you feeling?”
“You know.” He shrugged. “They treat me well. I ate the cake and chocolates you bought. They were good.”
She smiled. She had made a decision about what would happen at the visit before coming here. She was not sure how to start. To her surprise he added.
“Thank-you for the other thing as well.”
He gave her a knowing look. That made it easy.
“How often do the nurses come round?”
“Not often in the evening, particularly if we have visitors.”
She got up to pull the curtain round so they could not be seen by anyone else in the room. As she pulled it round the old man without visitors gave her a wink. She had thought he was u*********s. It was possible he had seen more of her previous visit than she was comfortable about. She drew the curtain round further.
She looked down at Simon. He was looking excited. He was better tucked in than before. At least this time there was no sign of his penis. She sat down back in the chair, loosening her jacket.
The last few nights, since she had flashed Simon with her breasts, had been weird. She remembered his wonder at her body. He had nodded towards her breasts and she had shown them on a nostalgic whim, of who she had been before she had grown up. It had been a bit sexy, but was mostly a statement that she could still be a wild person, not a mother and human resources manager, if she chose.
Angela had contemplated not visiting him again. That would have been consistent with an action to prove to herself she could be spontaneous. The problem was that it had felt good. When she made love with her husband she found herself imagining Simon watching them. Each time her husband moved inside her and her breasts moved, she imagined how excited that would make Simon feel. Afterwards she had let her mind wander on the possibility of installing a spy camera so she could record her husband making love to her and gift the video file to Simon.
When she asked her daughters about him neither could say much. Her eldest Rebecca, who was the same age as Simon, could barely remember him. They had been in the same primary school for a while but had not met up since. When the girls had visited him with thank you cards Rebecca had pretended to remember him, but admitted afterwards she had done so because she felt bad to have so completely forgotten who he was.
They guiltily admitted that when he stood behind them at the bus stop, they assumed he had been “perving” them. She understood enough youth slang this meant he was ogling them, rather than implying him a sexual deviant. It occurred to her that a chubby, bookish boy with lank hair might not have had much opportunity for sexual experience.
It was while contemplating this that she had decided what she was going to do.
Now she leaned forward and whispered to him.
“Okay Simon, I made a decision you’re probably going to like but it’s incredibly important that you play by my rules. Do you understand?”
He nodded vigorously. She suspected his penis was already hard.
“I have responsibilities to other people. It is very, very important to me that anything I do and say here does not risk hurting them. You need to be quiet and you need to be watching out to make sure others do not discover us. Okay?”
“I understand.” He said, quickly and eagerly. And a little loud. She gave him a stern look.
“Sorry, sorry.” He whispered.
“Okay, well before I was Rebecca and Daniella’s mother, before I was married, I had a few adventures I thought you might be able to enjoy being told about.”
She undid the last couple of buttons on her jacket and parted it to reveal she was naked underneath. She thought there was a stirring beneath the sheets.
“When I was at school I was a bit of a late bloomer. I started developing at twelve, but these breasts did not really come through until I was about f******n.”
She smiled to herself. She had enjoyed her mid-teens. Like everyone else she had had bad moments, but generally she found boys easy to manage. Her body was a bit like a thermostat that she could modulate with hair changes, more or less revealing tops and the length of her skirts. It gave her a sense of power. She wanted her daughters to be safe, and liked that schools told the c***dren about safety and intimate partner v******e and the rest; but she worried everything was now so serious they might miss out on the fun side. In her experience it was the emotional side that really hurt.
“I lost my virginity in the summer holiday after my sixteenth birthday. It was a few weeks after I got my results and knew for certain I was carrying on at school. It’s a truly boring story, involving a shared bottle of cheap wine and a hasty trip for a condom. It’s not worth telling”
He looked disappointed.
“Instead, what I thought I would tell you about was my threesome experience.”
“After school not much happened until I had a really intense and painful love affair in my first years at Uni that I am not going to talk about.”
She paused, even twenty years later it still hurt how he had abruptly and coldly ended it after she had invested so much in him and their relationship. She shook her head. That box was staying firmly shut. She carried on.
I withdrew a bit and ended up working for this student hostel where in return for working weekends and being the “female on-call” they gave me food and a simple room with a bed, a desk and an oversized easy chair. My parents were paying my fees and I didn’t go out so I was one of those weird students who saved money. Anyway, there was a “male on-call” as well. The first year there was this really boring guy but the second year he was replaced by this huge blond German called Rolfe. He was not bright, or maybe he just played it that way to get laughs. It certainly got him girls. Me included. You knew Rolfe was someone to go out with for laughs, nothing serious. And his cock was proportionate to his size. It was what I needed.
So even though I had the day off on my birthday I went back to the hostel bar. I’d had a couple of drinks with some student friends and thought a nice end to the evening would be a Rolfe night. I texted him but didn’t get a reply so sat at the little bar in the hostel and had another couple of drinks. In truth it was a bit of a let-down. It was mid-week in winter so there were only an earnest, slightly hippy, couple nursing a drink. Towards the end of my second drink it felt more like drowning my sorrows than a celebration.
Then in comes this older guy. He was probably in his thirties. He looked Asian, like Chinese, but he sounded straight up American when he told the guy at the bar,
“A Bourbon and one of whatever the young lady is drinking.”
He had a lovely smile. Confident but not brash. He pointed to the chair next to me.
“Do you mind if I join you? It’s been the kind of long day where a couple of drinks is medicinal. I’d really appreciate it if you’d let me take my medicine with a woman as beautiful as yourself.”
How could I say no?
His name was Andrew. When I asked about his day he made a funny story of being some kind of computer nerd who had come to Wellington to sell software but then been rejected. He wanted me to laugh at the pitch that he now saw was lame. He was pleasantly flirty without coming on or anything, just seemed to genuinely want to offload. I was warming to him.
“So why’s a budding millionaire in this place?” I asked.
He smiled, “Divorced, with alimony to pay. I need to make millions to buy my freedom.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
He shrugged, “We all make mistakes. I got two little ones I miss all the time out of my mistake, so I won even when I lost.”
We carried on talking. I let my knee touch his. He would put his hand on my chair, brushing my thigh, when he leaned in to talk. He asked if I wanted another drink and I shook my head.
“But I could offer you a coffee in my room?”
He paused momentarily, then leaned in to gently kiss my lips. I returned the kiss. He leaned back.
“That coffee sure sounds good.”
Then Rolfe walked in.
Angela glanced at Simon. He was hooked. He looked like a small boy being told some story about Santa.
“Well, Rolfe was his usual self. Bouncing around, saying sorry for not answering the text in a tone of voice that had no apology in it, insisting on buying me a drink and then, when he realised I was talking to Andrew, he announced
“Birthday of Angela means all her friends gets drunk drinks.”
He got Andrew a shot of the only expensive whisky and even bought a drink for the dull hippy couple. He and Andrew started joking with each other in that way men do. Sort of light-hearted, but with that element of trying to sneak one over the other. The thing was they were both genuinely funny. I was a bit drunk, but even so I had not laughed so much in more than a year. Through the wooziness of one drink too many, I vaguely wondered if Rolfe and Andrew would get into a fight over me. It was a pleasant thought.
The girl from the dull hippy couple came up and asked the way to the bathrooms. I had not left my chair in more than two hours and was reminded how full my bladder was. I got up, a little more unsteady than I expected and followed her.
While she was in the cubicle, I looked at myself in the mirror. The evening had turned out better than I expected but not really what I wanted. One was all muscles and dumb testosterone, the other self-deprecating intelligence. Always the way. I told the mirror
“Why is it you have to choose between Rolfes and Andrews?”
From the cubicle an east European voice called out
“I will only be a minute.”
“No, no, sorry. It was a rhetorical question, you know, to the mirror. Not to you.” I was embarrassed enough that if I had not needed to pee so much, I would have left.
She flushed the toilet and appeared a moment later. I needed to explain.
“It’s my birthday and it’s been, you know…”
She smiled. She was petite and had one of those faces where you could believe she was anywhere between late teens early thirties. I realised it was her boyfriend that looked more hippyish. Her clothes and the way she tied her hair had hippy echoes but everything she was wearing was very clean and tidy. She started washing her hands.
“I was doing job for career for three years after college. One day I decide fuck it. I hate job. I go. I travel some and meet Lars. He’s okay. I say fuck it again and travel more and come here. Then somewhere else.” She smiled at me. “Just say fuck it. Even if it’s your birthday. Then even if it is not.”
She gave me a hug and left the cubicle.
After I peed, I went back to my chair. As I passed the hippy couple, the girl gave me a wink and carried on talking to Lars in some language I did not recognise.
I sat down and looked at Andrew and Rolfe.
“Fuck it, this is my birthday and I want to do something special.”
They stopped talking and both looked at me. I had not really thought what I would I say next. I had not even thought about how loud my voice would sound. The hippy couple and the barman were also looking at us.
“I would like to go upstairs and I would like you,” I kissed Andrew on the lips, “And you,” I kissed Rolfe, “to join me.”
I stepped down from my chair and indicated that they should come with me. They looked at each other, Andrew shrugged at Rolfe and he laughed. They both got off their chairs. As I walked past the hippy girl we gave each other a look of mutual understanding.
Angela paused. The look on Simon’s face when he realised she had stopped was a mix of pain and fear. When she smiled at him he blurted out,
“But, but…”
She brought a finger to her breast and circled the nipple, then pushed the hand under the sheet, pulled undone the draw string on his pyjama bottoms and slid her hand around his already hard cock.
Our rooms were at the back of the ground floor. As I looked for my key they stood either side of me. I gave my key to Rolfe. I let that hand drop to his crotch and turned to give Andrew a deep, tongues entwined kiss. I let Rolfe end it by pulling me into the room.
When the door shut there was a pause. Each was holding one of my hands. Both had obviously erections trying to escape their pants. I felt like prey that had been trapped by two wolves. The pause was them savouring the moment before leaping, jaws open to devour me. It was Andrew, the sensitive one, who understood me at that moment. He stepped forward, ripped my blouse open and forced his tongue into my mouth.
He pressed himself against me, forcing our bodies together, hard to my softness. Andrew’s hands were on my breasts, pulling the bra over them I felt Rolfe behind me pressing from behind. Rolfe’s hands followed my body down to my pants, tried to pull against the belt. I was being crushed, finding it hard to breath, wanting more but needing to stop myself fainting. I pushed against Andrew, finally gasping in some air.
In the moment our heads were parted, Rolfe picked me up and threw me on the bed. He had quickly understood what was needed. He flipped me on my back and started on my belt. I sat up to kiss him. He let me for a moment, but when he had slid the belt out he grabbed my hands and bound my wrists with it. I pulled a moment, bringing him closer, testing the tightness of my bounds. They were not going to give way. I was at his mercy.
There was a tug and then my arms were above my head as I was pulled back. It was then I found Andrew’s cock at my lips. I opened my mouth, but he teased my lips with it, not letting me envelop it. I could taste his excitement. I wanted more of a taste. As I opened my mouth wider he simply pulled on the belt so I found it hard to move.
It was then Rolfe entered me. Like everything he did, it was big, energetic, strong. The force knocked me further across the bed so my shoulders hung over the side. The cock I could see was now further away. Andrew kneeled down and put his lips to mine. The energy and force I felt thrusting in my pussy contrasted deliciously with the delicate lips and tongue worshiping my face. That first orgasm was sudden, a surprising delight.
Rolfe continued. I knew the next orgasm would not happen in this position. I tried to move. I was powerless. Rolfe’s thrusts continued, pushing himself into me, to tickle my womb. I thought about condoms. I felt the beautiful, strong, warm length moving inside me. This was a night for the morning after pill.
To my surprise Rolfe who stopped. I knew his roar when he came. He had been too silent for that to have happened. I was disappointed, I wanted his raw desire, him large and inside me. It was Andrew who lifted up my shoulders so I was sitting, pulled my blouse and bra up so they also were holding my wrists. Rolfe, his erection still very much out and proud, put me over his shoulder. I am not sure how they had communicated, but the next moment I was put front first over the arm of my easy chair, my head in Andrew’s lap and Rolfe entering me again. Then his thrusts began again.
“We need to stop a moment.”
Simon was pushing my hand away. The noise around us had changed. I got my hand out of the bed just before the nurse bustled round the curtain to check the monitors. She started talking to me, I just nodded. My mind was still on that moment, the sheer delightful length and width of Rolfe’s manhood taking so long to be fully in and out. It was possible to be my body, be completely basic, to think of nothing but pleasure in desire and physical, a****l connection.
“You alright then?” the nurse asked. I nodded.
She disappeared to the other side of the curtain and after a couple of words to the old men, we heard the door close behind her. I let my hand slide in again. His pyjama trousers were damp but he did not seem to have come yet. I moved my hand over his hardness. He groaned quietly. It was like a reminder Rolfe’s, a small souvenir version of great monument. Angela smelt her own excitement. She wondered how much the nurse understood
When Rolfe came it was an event, a gigantic thrust, that roar, a flood of semen. When he stepped back, I let myself fall to my knees. Andrew unwrapped the remains of my blouse and my bra, then undid the belt. When he stood up Rolfe took his seat, still erect. He might have been expecting the same arrangement, but instead Andrew led me to the bed.
He gently had me lie down. For a moment I thought he was going to leave and was about tell him not to. As I opened my mouth he kissed my lips. Now began a different kind of being consumed. This was with lips and tongue. He tickled my neck, brushed my earlobes, tasted my shoulders. He spent a long time doing each of these, returning to the lips between parts of my body.
After the excitement of being swept up and powerless before overwhelming strength, this was an intoxication. Like being in a warm bath that lets you float out of yourself. The body as a bed of comfort and relaxation. Each touch a reminder of desire, but always light, not building.
It was so gentle that it was only after his tongue had done its work on my breasts and started to descend past my navel that I realised how sensitive I felt. Each touch was a painful tickle I wanted to receive again and again. But it was when it was between my legs I realised I did not want him to stop, that a climax was building that…
Angela felt the familiar warm stickiness over her fingers. His eyes were closed. Tightly closed, like he was in a pain of sorts. She gently wiped her hand on the sheet and withdrew it. It was unlikely to be the worst mess the nurses would be clearing away that day.
She stood up and redid up her jacket. He watched her movements, that slight smile on his face again.
“Good night, Simon. Sweet dreams.”
“When will you be back?”
She picked up her bag, faced him a moment and then walked away. She was busy and not entirely sure when she would next have the time. She felt the stickiness between her legs and knew that she would find the time soon.
Simon was in the same ward, with the same two elderly men with broken legs and an empty bed. One of the old men had an elderly woman and younger couple around his bed. The two men looked bored, the women were talking to each other. As before Simon was reading. He had not looked up when she had entered.
She looked at him a moment. He looked as if he had not moved in the three days since she last visited. The limbs were in the same place, the pillows behind his head were in the same place, his pyjamas looked the same. Though his straight hair and slightly chubby face were not particularly attractive, his concentration on the book gave him an intense, almost smouldering air. That, and the fact he had sustained his injuries saving her daughters’ lives, made his looks less important. It helped that she could still call up the memory of his solidly hard penis.
The old man with visitors called out, “It’s all right love. He won’t bite, he’s already been fed today.”
She gave him a coldly polite smile that stalled the two women’s titters. Simon had looked up at the man’s voice and now watched her as she approached. Without asking she took a chair and sat close to him, her back to the others in the room.
“Hello, again.” She said.
He nodded.
“How are you feeling?”
“You know.” He shrugged. “They treat me well. I ate the cake and chocolates you bought. They were good.”
She smiled. She had made a decision about what would happen at the visit before coming here. She was not sure how to start. To her surprise he added.
“Thank-you for the other thing as well.”
He gave her a knowing look. That made it easy.
“How often do the nurses come round?”
“Not often in the evening, particularly if we have visitors.”
She got up to pull the curtain round so they could not be seen by anyone else in the room. As she pulled it round the old man without visitors gave her a wink. She had thought he was u*********s. It was possible he had seen more of her previous visit than she was comfortable about. She drew the curtain round further.
She looked down at Simon. He was looking excited. He was better tucked in than before. At least this time there was no sign of his penis. She sat down back in the chair, loosening her jacket.
The last few nights, since she had flashed Simon with her breasts, had been weird. She remembered his wonder at her body. He had nodded towards her breasts and she had shown them on a nostalgic whim, of who she had been before she had grown up. It had been a bit sexy, but was mostly a statement that she could still be a wild person, not a mother and human resources manager, if she chose.
Angela had contemplated not visiting him again. That would have been consistent with an action to prove to herself she could be spontaneous. The problem was that it had felt good. When she made love with her husband she found herself imagining Simon watching them. Each time her husband moved inside her and her breasts moved, she imagined how excited that would make Simon feel. Afterwards she had let her mind wander on the possibility of installing a spy camera so she could record her husband making love to her and gift the video file to Simon.
When she asked her daughters about him neither could say much. Her eldest Rebecca, who was the same age as Simon, could barely remember him. They had been in the same primary school for a while but had not met up since. When the girls had visited him with thank you cards Rebecca had pretended to remember him, but admitted afterwards she had done so because she felt bad to have so completely forgotten who he was.
They guiltily admitted that when he stood behind them at the bus stop, they assumed he had been “perving” them. She understood enough youth slang this meant he was ogling them, rather than implying him a sexual deviant. It occurred to her that a chubby, bookish boy with lank hair might not have had much opportunity for sexual experience.
It was while contemplating this that she had decided what she was going to do.
Now she leaned forward and whispered to him.
“Okay Simon, I made a decision you’re probably going to like but it’s incredibly important that you play by my rules. Do you understand?”
He nodded vigorously. She suspected his penis was already hard.
“I have responsibilities to other people. It is very, very important to me that anything I do and say here does not risk hurting them. You need to be quiet and you need to be watching out to make sure others do not discover us. Okay?”
“I understand.” He said, quickly and eagerly. And a little loud. She gave him a stern look.
“Sorry, sorry.” He whispered.
“Okay, well before I was Rebecca and Daniella’s mother, before I was married, I had a few adventures I thought you might be able to enjoy being told about.”
She undid the last couple of buttons on her jacket and parted it to reveal she was naked underneath. She thought there was a stirring beneath the sheets.
“When I was at school I was a bit of a late bloomer. I started developing at twelve, but these breasts did not really come through until I was about f******n.”
She smiled to herself. She had enjoyed her mid-teens. Like everyone else she had had bad moments, but generally she found boys easy to manage. Her body was a bit like a thermostat that she could modulate with hair changes, more or less revealing tops and the length of her skirts. It gave her a sense of power. She wanted her daughters to be safe, and liked that schools told the c***dren about safety and intimate partner v******e and the rest; but she worried everything was now so serious they might miss out on the fun side. In her experience it was the emotional side that really hurt.
“I lost my virginity in the summer holiday after my sixteenth birthday. It was a few weeks after I got my results and knew for certain I was carrying on at school. It’s a truly boring story, involving a shared bottle of cheap wine and a hasty trip for a condom. It’s not worth telling”
He looked disappointed.
“Instead, what I thought I would tell you about was my threesome experience.”
“After school not much happened until I had a really intense and painful love affair in my first years at Uni that I am not going to talk about.”
She paused, even twenty years later it still hurt how he had abruptly and coldly ended it after she had invested so much in him and their relationship. She shook her head. That box was staying firmly shut. She carried on.
I withdrew a bit and ended up working for this student hostel where in return for working weekends and being the “female on-call” they gave me food and a simple room with a bed, a desk and an oversized easy chair. My parents were paying my fees and I didn’t go out so I was one of those weird students who saved money. Anyway, there was a “male on-call” as well. The first year there was this really boring guy but the second year he was replaced by this huge blond German called Rolfe. He was not bright, or maybe he just played it that way to get laughs. It certainly got him girls. Me included. You knew Rolfe was someone to go out with for laughs, nothing serious. And his cock was proportionate to his size. It was what I needed.
So even though I had the day off on my birthday I went back to the hostel bar. I’d had a couple of drinks with some student friends and thought a nice end to the evening would be a Rolfe night. I texted him but didn’t get a reply so sat at the little bar in the hostel and had another couple of drinks. In truth it was a bit of a let-down. It was mid-week in winter so there were only an earnest, slightly hippy, couple nursing a drink. Towards the end of my second drink it felt more like drowning my sorrows than a celebration.
Then in comes this older guy. He was probably in his thirties. He looked Asian, like Chinese, but he sounded straight up American when he told the guy at the bar,
“A Bourbon and one of whatever the young lady is drinking.”
He had a lovely smile. Confident but not brash. He pointed to the chair next to me.
“Do you mind if I join you? It’s been the kind of long day where a couple of drinks is medicinal. I’d really appreciate it if you’d let me take my medicine with a woman as beautiful as yourself.”
How could I say no?
His name was Andrew. When I asked about his day he made a funny story of being some kind of computer nerd who had come to Wellington to sell software but then been rejected. He wanted me to laugh at the pitch that he now saw was lame. He was pleasantly flirty without coming on or anything, just seemed to genuinely want to offload. I was warming to him.
“So why’s a budding millionaire in this place?” I asked.
He smiled, “Divorced, with alimony to pay. I need to make millions to buy my freedom.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
He shrugged, “We all make mistakes. I got two little ones I miss all the time out of my mistake, so I won even when I lost.”
We carried on talking. I let my knee touch his. He would put his hand on my chair, brushing my thigh, when he leaned in to talk. He asked if I wanted another drink and I shook my head.
“But I could offer you a coffee in my room?”
He paused momentarily, then leaned in to gently kiss my lips. I returned the kiss. He leaned back.
“That coffee sure sounds good.”
Then Rolfe walked in.
Angela glanced at Simon. He was hooked. He looked like a small boy being told some story about Santa.
“Well, Rolfe was his usual self. Bouncing around, saying sorry for not answering the text in a tone of voice that had no apology in it, insisting on buying me a drink and then, when he realised I was talking to Andrew, he announced
“Birthday of Angela means all her friends gets drunk drinks.”
He got Andrew a shot of the only expensive whisky and even bought a drink for the dull hippy couple. He and Andrew started joking with each other in that way men do. Sort of light-hearted, but with that element of trying to sneak one over the other. The thing was they were both genuinely funny. I was a bit drunk, but even so I had not laughed so much in more than a year. Through the wooziness of one drink too many, I vaguely wondered if Rolfe and Andrew would get into a fight over me. It was a pleasant thought.
The girl from the dull hippy couple came up and asked the way to the bathrooms. I had not left my chair in more than two hours and was reminded how full my bladder was. I got up, a little more unsteady than I expected and followed her.
While she was in the cubicle, I looked at myself in the mirror. The evening had turned out better than I expected but not really what I wanted. One was all muscles and dumb testosterone, the other self-deprecating intelligence. Always the way. I told the mirror
“Why is it you have to choose between Rolfes and Andrews?”
From the cubicle an east European voice called out
“I will only be a minute.”
“No, no, sorry. It was a rhetorical question, you know, to the mirror. Not to you.” I was embarrassed enough that if I had not needed to pee so much, I would have left.
She flushed the toilet and appeared a moment later. I needed to explain.
“It’s my birthday and it’s been, you know…”
She smiled. She was petite and had one of those faces where you could believe she was anywhere between late teens early thirties. I realised it was her boyfriend that looked more hippyish. Her clothes and the way she tied her hair had hippy echoes but everything she was wearing was very clean and tidy. She started washing her hands.
“I was doing job for career for three years after college. One day I decide fuck it. I hate job. I go. I travel some and meet Lars. He’s okay. I say fuck it again and travel more and come here. Then somewhere else.” She smiled at me. “Just say fuck it. Even if it’s your birthday. Then even if it is not.”
She gave me a hug and left the cubicle.
After I peed, I went back to my chair. As I passed the hippy couple, the girl gave me a wink and carried on talking to Lars in some language I did not recognise.
I sat down and looked at Andrew and Rolfe.
“Fuck it, this is my birthday and I want to do something special.”
They stopped talking and both looked at me. I had not really thought what I would I say next. I had not even thought about how loud my voice would sound. The hippy couple and the barman were also looking at us.
“I would like to go upstairs and I would like you,” I kissed Andrew on the lips, “And you,” I kissed Rolfe, “to join me.”
I stepped down from my chair and indicated that they should come with me. They looked at each other, Andrew shrugged at Rolfe and he laughed. They both got off their chairs. As I walked past the hippy girl we gave each other a look of mutual understanding.
Angela paused. The look on Simon’s face when he realised she had stopped was a mix of pain and fear. When she smiled at him he blurted out,
“But, but…”
She brought a finger to her breast and circled the nipple, then pushed the hand under the sheet, pulled undone the draw string on his pyjama bottoms and slid her hand around his already hard cock.
Our rooms were at the back of the ground floor. As I looked for my key they stood either side of me. I gave my key to Rolfe. I let that hand drop to his crotch and turned to give Andrew a deep, tongues entwined kiss. I let Rolfe end it by pulling me into the room.
When the door shut there was a pause. Each was holding one of my hands. Both had obviously erections trying to escape their pants. I felt like prey that had been trapped by two wolves. The pause was them savouring the moment before leaping, jaws open to devour me. It was Andrew, the sensitive one, who understood me at that moment. He stepped forward, ripped my blouse open and forced his tongue into my mouth.
He pressed himself against me, forcing our bodies together, hard to my softness. Andrew’s hands were on my breasts, pulling the bra over them I felt Rolfe behind me pressing from behind. Rolfe’s hands followed my body down to my pants, tried to pull against the belt. I was being crushed, finding it hard to breath, wanting more but needing to stop myself fainting. I pushed against Andrew, finally gasping in some air.
In the moment our heads were parted, Rolfe picked me up and threw me on the bed. He had quickly understood what was needed. He flipped me on my back and started on my belt. I sat up to kiss him. He let me for a moment, but when he had slid the belt out he grabbed my hands and bound my wrists with it. I pulled a moment, bringing him closer, testing the tightness of my bounds. They were not going to give way. I was at his mercy.
There was a tug and then my arms were above my head as I was pulled back. It was then I found Andrew’s cock at my lips. I opened my mouth, but he teased my lips with it, not letting me envelop it. I could taste his excitement. I wanted more of a taste. As I opened my mouth wider he simply pulled on the belt so I found it hard to move.
It was then Rolfe entered me. Like everything he did, it was big, energetic, strong. The force knocked me further across the bed so my shoulders hung over the side. The cock I could see was now further away. Andrew kneeled down and put his lips to mine. The energy and force I felt thrusting in my pussy contrasted deliciously with the delicate lips and tongue worshiping my face. That first orgasm was sudden, a surprising delight.
Rolfe continued. I knew the next orgasm would not happen in this position. I tried to move. I was powerless. Rolfe’s thrusts continued, pushing himself into me, to tickle my womb. I thought about condoms. I felt the beautiful, strong, warm length moving inside me. This was a night for the morning after pill.
To my surprise Rolfe who stopped. I knew his roar when he came. He had been too silent for that to have happened. I was disappointed, I wanted his raw desire, him large and inside me. It was Andrew who lifted up my shoulders so I was sitting, pulled my blouse and bra up so they also were holding my wrists. Rolfe, his erection still very much out and proud, put me over his shoulder. I am not sure how they had communicated, but the next moment I was put front first over the arm of my easy chair, my head in Andrew’s lap and Rolfe entering me again. Then his thrusts began again.
“We need to stop a moment.”
Simon was pushing my hand away. The noise around us had changed. I got my hand out of the bed just before the nurse bustled round the curtain to check the monitors. She started talking to me, I just nodded. My mind was still on that moment, the sheer delightful length and width of Rolfe’s manhood taking so long to be fully in and out. It was possible to be my body, be completely basic, to think of nothing but pleasure in desire and physical, a****l connection.
“You alright then?” the nurse asked. I nodded.
She disappeared to the other side of the curtain and after a couple of words to the old men, we heard the door close behind her. I let my hand slide in again. His pyjama trousers were damp but he did not seem to have come yet. I moved my hand over his hardness. He groaned quietly. It was like a reminder Rolfe’s, a small souvenir version of great monument. Angela smelt her own excitement. She wondered how much the nurse understood
When Rolfe came it was an event, a gigantic thrust, that roar, a flood of semen. When he stepped back, I let myself fall to my knees. Andrew unwrapped the remains of my blouse and my bra, then undid the belt. When he stood up Rolfe took his seat, still erect. He might have been expecting the same arrangement, but instead Andrew led me to the bed.
He gently had me lie down. For a moment I thought he was going to leave and was about tell him not to. As I opened my mouth he kissed my lips. Now began a different kind of being consumed. This was with lips and tongue. He tickled my neck, brushed my earlobes, tasted my shoulders. He spent a long time doing each of these, returning to the lips between parts of my body.
After the excitement of being swept up and powerless before overwhelming strength, this was an intoxication. Like being in a warm bath that lets you float out of yourself. The body as a bed of comfort and relaxation. Each touch a reminder of desire, but always light, not building.
It was so gentle that it was only after his tongue had done its work on my breasts and started to descend past my navel that I realised how sensitive I felt. Each touch was a painful tickle I wanted to receive again and again. But it was when it was between my legs I realised I did not want him to stop, that a climax was building that…
Angela felt the familiar warm stickiness over her fingers. His eyes were closed. Tightly closed, like he was in a pain of sorts. She gently wiped her hand on the sheet and withdrew it. It was unlikely to be the worst mess the nurses would be clearing away that day.
She stood up and redid up her jacket. He watched her movements, that slight smile on his face again.
“Good night, Simon. Sweet dreams.”
“When will you be back?”
She picked up her bag, faced him a moment and then walked away. She was busy and not entirely sure when she would next have the time. She felt the stickiness between her legs and knew that she would find the time soon.
Valentina
- 12.04.2022
- 13
- 0
