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Tom watched, jealousy and surprise making his thick eyebrows rumba, as his friend Andy pulled the girl by the hand, towards the hoarding at the side of the road. Stumbling in her tipsy shoes, her mane of blonde-streaked hair whirled as the girl turned and blew a kiss from that firm mouth and winked a very come-follow wink from her dark flashing eyes.
It was the first time Tom had actually seen flashing eyes and he was suitably impressed. As his feet began to follow that well-worn path he realised just how impressed.
A far streetlight was the only illumination behind the advertising space, which made Tom suddenly wary as he squinted past “Huge Melons: Only £1.29 That’s ASDA price”, into the murky area behind. Tom wasn’t actually afraid of the dark. He was afraid of the ‘things’ which occupied the dark. In the rational forefront of his mind he knew that the ‘things’ were given shape only by his imagination, but it was the fertile, rearward part of his mind which gave them life.
Tom’s mood brightened, slaved to the waxing moonlight, revealing much that was hidden but secretly making darker shadows where his lusty shoes led him.
– – –
All through the latter hours of their drink fuelled sojourn, this lioness on stiletto padded feet had regaled Tom and Andy with a storm of sensuous stories, had led them dancing, with her words to the sweat-body strewn dance-floors and to each and severally promised, both figuratively and literally: rape and rapture.
“I just love taking it up the arse.” Purred Abby. Tom and Andy exchanged flickering, hopeful glances as this dream-in-a-short-skirt turned her back to them and under eyelash covered vantage gauged reaction, whilst smoothing that skirt around that very neat but broad expanse of arse. “I hate panty line.” She demurred. Turning again to face the boys, with her generous lips she pouted: “That’s why I don’t wear any.”
It was Tom that had offered to buy the drink for the girls when they had strolled casually into the bar, dressed perfunctorily as witches: Silken pointy hats, silken skirts, shirts and thighs. All black. Abby preferred vodka. Neat. Julie was Rum and Coke and Ann wanted the same. For an hour and a half the five of them had fenced and fought, jockeyed and manoeuvred, flirted and flattered. It was the boys who broke down first.
As was usual in meetings like this, the boys had tried to steer the conversation toward sex at the first opportunity, almost alarmingly; the girls had grabbed the steering wheel and pressed the accelerator to the floor. Flooding the carb. and almost stalling the boys, they flooded them with questions. “Did you get any last night?”, “Did you wake up with a hangover and a dog on your dick?”, “Could you fuck that piece with the tits?”, “I know I could.” Giggling and guffawing and with voices pitched so that all within 15 feet could hear, the girls synchromeshed their gears and pushed the needle over the red danger line.
With expanses of creamy, tanned or pale, punctured and pierced bellies, Abby, Julie and antalya escort Anne tortured their prey with ingenuous innuendo, deathly double-entendre and outright dirty tongues, which they freely admitted they also used to lick their boy/girl friends. Every single time that the group returned from the ‘Ladies’ Andy and Tom’s discomfiture rose as each and every girl proudly displayed tantalisingly erect and often damp, silk folded nipples. As the witching hour approached Julie and Anne enquired of Abby “Clubbing or fucking?” Tom gaped. Andy gaped wider. Hooked.
Abby raked her eyes across Tom and Andy’s crotches. “Looks like I’m fucking.”
“Well we’re clubbing first.” Announced Anne.
“Fucking after.” Julie chimed in.
“Each other.” Anne dared the two boys with her eyes. “Clubbing?” she asked “or fucking?”
“We, we’re, er, we’re…” stuttered Tom.
“Having another drink.” Interrupted Andy.
“Laters then Abby.” Farewelled Julie, then began chanting “Andy and Abby, sitting in a tree…”
The two silk laden witches crossed to the exit with backward glances and voices trailing “F.U.C.K.I.N.G.”
– – –
A sudden breeze riffled Tom’s shirt, making tense muscles writhe, bringing throaty female laughter, making relaxed stomach muscles clench, a punch to the jaw: pulling his slow-motion head, back and to the left. Pupil-wide eyes searched the confines between the brick and wood lover’s alley gaining only blackness: beasties. Imagination fed his fear, adrenaline, his blood. Involuntary reaction made voluntary retreat a welcome thought. Grunts, sighs and moans fuelled engorgement. Fright hardened his resolve, stiffened his sinews.
A hand clutched the thigh of his trousers another clutched his heart. “Fffuck”. Tom grasped thin, sharp-nailed fingers in his fist. The anonymous hand pulled, urgently.
Giggling and laughter. “Down here lover. Kit off. You know what to do. What I want.” With swift decision and rising anticipation Tom unbuckled his belt and pulled off one shoe and one pants leg. Grateful for the night, realising the spectacle he must be making, he leaned forward, hands led, towards that unseen waiting pleasure. “I’m wet and ready lover. Andy’s been giving some good solid finger. First one, then in my pussy, then two and back to my cunt and when you heard me laughing just now, he had three fingers in the hole, now it’s ready for some cock.” Tom moved forward eagerly. “Wait.” Commanded the black hidden, silk and velvet voice. “Suck first.”
Tom heard Andy groan.
“Suck. First. Ok?”
“Yeah, yeah. ‘Course.” Tom agreed regaining his feet, waiting.
“Well bring that cock over here then. I’m not letting Andy’s out just to suck yours.”
Tom manoeuvred himself as well as he could and eventually, with one abraded knee and brick dust covering his shoulder, he knelt to offer his knob to that willing mouth. He was expecting a voracious attack and a chilling deep throat experience. Instead, he felt a very, very tentative lick and a whispered serik escort “In” then louder, smiling(?) “Push it in Tom” and a hand on his bare arse pushed him forward so that his slick cock was enveloped.
“Oh that is so good.” Somehow she was flicking her tongue across his balls whilst beginning to properly enjoy the dick in her throat. A flat palm on his belly caused Tom to haunch back and plop his stiffness back out into cool night air.
“Now I want to feel that lovely slippery length up the arse.”
– – –
Abby had gone to the Ladies as Tom turned to the bar to order another round. “I’m off to the bog.” Andy informed him.
Swaggering to the rear, smiling confidently at every woman and girl on the way Andy was just passing the Ladies when a black silk arm snaked through the doorway and pulled him bodily inside. Surprise plastered a Hallowe’en grimace across his open mouth. “Fuck me.” She demanded.
“Fuck me.” Fingers grabbed his crotch.
“This is the Ladies.”
“Fuck me.” Zzzip
“What if someone comes in?”
“Fuck me.” She pulled him by his prick into a cubicle.
He fucked her.
To the sound of dripping water, a swinging door and raucous female laughter. “Go on girl, give him it hard.” Andy paid little heed as he pushed his length hard and fast. The audience quieted to giggling as heads, one by one peered lecherously, sometimes longingly over the partition. Abby leaned her shoulders into the wall and thrust her hips forward, lifting her skirt to allow Andy full view of their jointed groins.
Abby unbuckled Andy’s trousers and pushed her hands downward to pull his pumping buttocks onto her yielding body. She deftly pulled one hand to her mouth and taking the long, painted nail between her gritting teeth pulled savagely then spat out the coloured adornment. Forcing the naked digit between Andy’s lips she whetted her finger. Pulling his head close to her mouth she inveigled “You know I like it in the arse?” She illustrated, placing the pad of the wet finger on his ring. Nod. “Do you? Like it?” Abby’s delving bucked Andy’s prick full length bringing twin groans of pleasure. “If you’re going to spunk up my cunt” she probed, “you’d better be good and quick with the necessary if you want it up my arse as well.” Pushing his shoulder and raising her eyebrows she asked “Well? I promise you’ve never had anything like it.” Mute, he nodded. “Oh… and one other thing.”
– – –
Tom, crouched above the coupled pair, pressed hard and deep, urged on by Abby’s sharp words. Andy’s muffled gasps; sighs and keening seemed to increase his fervour and stroke.
“Tom? Tom?” Gasped Abby “Are you coming yet? Don’t come yet. I want to switch now.”
Tom slammed hard into that exquisite expanse and began to slowly draw back when he heard Abby beg: “I need a cock up my arse- Andy’s cock in my arse. Now.”
A jumble of arms and legs, sweat streaked torsos, laughter and cursing found Tom on his back with Abby’s side escort outlined sleek blackness deftly sliding down his rigid dick. Abby hissed. “Oh. Big.” She rose slowly and held Tom’s unsheathed head between her fat, clean lips then sat heavily to impale herself. Tom held motionless as Abby began to grind her clit against his pubic bone, wanking herself with smooth, rhythmic gyrations.
Andy gingerly placed his knees astride his friend’s legs, letting his cock fall against Abby’s waiting backside, her slithering motion bringing his erection to tap, tap, probe, into her. A crowd of partygoers passing by drowned Abby’s instruction to “slime it up first.”
“Lubrication. Wet it.”
Abby pressed her belly into Tom’s, arching her back and reaching behind for Andy.
Tom squirmed as he felt his friend’s knob-end slide over his balls and up the underside of his dick. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like a bit of bell-end?” Laughed Abby as she continued to lather Andy’s head in her slime and juices. “Ooh” She teased. “Two cocks in one hole. Never tried that before.” She breathed into Tom’s face “Push it in Andy. I want to feel what it’s like.” Andy hesitated momentarily before sliding his prick along Tom’s hardness, slowly filling Abby until his balls rested against Andy’s. “You stay still Tom. Andy, you fuck me now.”
Tom was astonished at both the sensation of his pal’s dick against his own and also at his own greater arousal. His hips began to move and he soon found himself almost delighted at this strange twist. Abby called a halt to the double fucking and insisted that Andy was slimy enough now and to stick it where it was meant to go. Andy needed no further encouragement and raising himself slightly began working his cock-head into Abby’s arse. After very few thrusts from the spit-roasting Abby’s wailing could be heard streets away as she gushed her orgasm loudly and wetly over Tom’s groin and belly. Both boys began pushing hard and deep wanting the same.
“Stop, stop.” Commanded Abby sensing their imminent arrival. “Same hole again. Andy put your cock in my cunt again. Just a minute. Now. Push. Push it all in. Fuck me. Fuck me you dirty bastards.”
Raising her knee, Abby slid to one side. “Keep going you dirty fucks.” She urged as she moved slowly and carefully so that only half their length was the deepest they could both press. “Oh yes. You dirty fucking bastards. Fuck me.” Sliding on slick skin Abby moved so that only the head of the boys’ cocks could penetrate. “That is so good. Fuck that feels good.”
Tom and Andy continued sliding their cocks together, each trying to drive deepest, and both enjoying the unexpected delight of frotting with the other, until there was no twat to restrain them, just slithering hardness against groins and bellies. And sudden eruptive, arching greased orgasm engulfing them both. They neither saw, nor cared about the flash.
– – –
“Well?” coaxed Julie and Anne. “Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“You know fucking well, what.”
“Yes. And you owe me fifty quid.”
Abby flourished the gloss. “Just a sample.” She teased. “Next Thursday they want to watch.”
“To get them in the mood for the shower scene.”
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