Fly Fishing and Other Amusements

I patted her bottom, shook my head and confessed. "Nope - I guess I'm a little different from most. My own oral specialties are pussies, which I happen to think are some of the most beautiful things in all of creation... pussies and nipples, because of their sensitivities. Oral done on me is really wonderful, but it's damn near impossible for me to come that way, because I can't usually get the tension I need in my legs, but I absolutely love the attention and the sensations of good head. Oral work on me is just foreplay or icing on the cake, not the main course."

Roxy replied "Oh. Then you ARE a bit odd. Not bad, just odd. Maybe I can change your mind, later?"

She was right, by the way, about being able to bring me off with her throat - it took a bit of coordination, and dangling her head over the corner of the bed so I could get the approach angle right, but I did actually come way down inside her that way. Almost lost control, though, and she finally had to push me off so she could get a breath. She swears she climaxed herself, at the same time I did - I was way too busy to notice.

Later, a little drowsy, the topic of my shaved pubes came up - she licked, sucked, and stroked, and allowed as how it really was an attractive idea. I rose to the bait, made the obvious suggestion.

She grinned, said "Totally at your service, Sir... But you've got to promise, absolutely, not to cut me! - I assume you've had lots of practice?"

I just grinned right back, went to the bathroom for my shaving kit and a towel. And my moustache scissors - you don't attack a full-grown, mature bush using a disposable razor as your primary tool, believe me - that gadget is for the final stages only.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Do it!" she said - "How do you want me arranged?"

After the shave, I put her down on widespread knees and chest, ass up in the air. With a warm, wet towel, I carefully cleaned off all traces of foam - she had really, REALLY gotten into the shave, twisting and squirming about and giving little suggestions, helping where it was needed. Some of the suggestions, of course, had nothing whatever to do with the glittery steel blade sliding over her most sensitive parts.

Now there wasn't a single hair left anywhere on her rise, from navel to the top of the crack of her ass... in fact, the knee-chest pose was partially to let me take a dry blade and get every last individual hair from around the pucker of her anus, which she suddenly found to be remarkably, and disturbingly, sensitive. Not to mention the overt eroticism of being so totally exposed - every woman seems to relish that once they're caught in it with the right man. And with the lights up full, too... not a trace of false modesty to be seen.

I knelt behind her, and she giggled into the sheets, waggled her bottom, and muttered "That can't be the nicest landscape you've ever been faced with... my big old butt sticking up there at you..."

Totally wrong! I patted her bottom gently and told her truthfully "Lady, it's a glorious view. And your bottom is NOT big..." I caressed it gently, slid a finger up through the wet of her slit, dipped it far into her pussy, made little probing circles. She sighed. "In fact, madam, it's a nice, solid butt - nicely muscular and a lot more than merely attractive. Smooth skin, good muscles... bigger than when you were a teenybopper, I'm sure - but so is mine own, and yours is definitely NOT huge, and not even big, really. Quite delectable."

She preened into the sheets, and told me that it had been a long, long time since she'd heard anything like that - and that her nipples felt absolutely incandescent against the percale.

"Here, spread your cheeks for me for a second..." She complied, then jumped from the shock of warmth and wetness as I clapped my mouth to her anus, drove my tongue inside as far as I could reach, then retreated and lapped luxuriously up the entire length of her butt-cleft, from anus to coccyx and back, inside once again... she shivered violently... then I cruised downwards across her pussy entrance to the underside of her clit. It's an awkward position for the man, but does stunning things for the woman.

I lapped - pretty kitty at its dish of cream? Precisely, carefully - I knew exactly where the proper place was, I was just investigating minor variations on the theme of stroke-nibble-and-suck. I found the right combination. Her hands balled the sheets and she exploded into yet another climax that wrenched her from the depths of her belly all the way up to her scalp. "Jeezus God almighty Mary Joseph and all the saints together...!" she sputtered. I pulled my face away, kept my hands busy stroking and cupping her buttocks. Her back was the prettiest shade of pink. Aftershocks made themselves felt against my palms - I had to grin to myself - I'd gotten her figured out.

She caught her breath at last, turned her head to look back at me, sashayed her bottom at me. "Wow! You sure figured out MY favorite letch in a hurry! Nicely done! My GOD, talk about intense! I sure hope I can do the same for you, and soon. So tell me, Sir Frank, just exactly what is YOUR personal favorite?"

I said nothing, just wetted my middle finger and pressed it against her anus. She tensed momentarily, then relaxed as I gently slipped the finger first-knuckle deep inside. "Here. My favorite place." I said. "Bottoms. Butt-fucking. I love it all, love being inside a mouth or hand or pussy, and can spend lots of time in any place, but this, Madame, is my personal Nirvana." I slid the finger all the way in.

Roxy studied the sensations, then said very low, as if embarrassed, "I've never done that. Been asked lots of times, but never tried. Doesn't it seem, somehow, well - impersonal, demeaning to the woman?" Her curiosity surfaced and spoke: "Have you done it lots?"

I replied, truthfully, "Yep. Lots. With almost every woman I've ever made love to. If you're still a virgin there, Dearie, you have totally missed out on one of the core sacraments of the Church of Holy Fuck. For two fully sensual people without hangups, it can be just about the most intense joining possible. Most women, once they accommodate - which usually takes about three minutes the first time and ten seconds the next - most women have the most insanely powerful climaxes - they almost seem to try to pinch my cock off at the base! And NO, dammit, it isn't demeaning or impersonal. Just exactly the contrary. It's as close and trusting a thing as you can give to a man - plus it provides the most incredible climaxes for both parties! Nothing that can do THAT is demeaning to anyone involved. Quite the opposite."

She let me finish, then reached behind her bottom, spread her cheeks wide again, and said "Then do me that way. Right now, before I lose the nerve. Your finger's wonderful in there, a cock should be ever so much better... but Frank... please, go slow, and use plenty of CLIT!"

Plenty of clit was no problem at all. Twenty minutes later, by then face-to-face, I came in her bottom while she had perhaps her tenth serial rapid-fire butt-climax. We slowed and finally quit only because I was about done, and we were both leery of leaving her too sore to function in other ways.

Shortly after that [our third (fourth? fifth?) go-around], we fell asleep - she was a fine sleeping partner, comfortable and sensual without being overbearing about space use and such.

The sun eventually woke us, and we grinned at one another, both clearly with the same thought in mind - namely, 'How about a morning quickie?' We were moving slowly, there seemed no need to do otherwise. Roxy was casually fondling my full-scale hardon beneath the sheet that still covered us - I was nursing on a nice, solid nipple and had two fingers fully up inside her pussy, together we were contemplating our next move (which was becoming rapidly more and more obvious), when there was an authoritative knock at the door.

We looked at one another, I must have turned red because Roxy almost laughed at me as she shrugged, and said loudly, towards the door, "Come on in! We've got no secrets in here!"

Jim entered, bearing a tray. He had a silly grin on his face but was trying to be serious, aiming for the Jeeves approach - which was totally spoiled by his silk robe, incongruous beyond belief in the riotous red-and-gold Chinese dragons that cavorted and intermingled on an emerald-green background. The thin fabric did nothing whatever to hide his hardon.

He eyed us, said "Breakfast is served, Madame, M'sieur." Then directly at me, "Wouldn't want any guest of ours to think we run anything less than a top-notch, five-star hotel. Fresh-brewed coffee, fresh-squeezed orange juice, and hot croissants. With the fixings. From some of the sounds the other guests reported over the night, it seems as if things must have worked out to everyone's satisfaction?"

We didn't really need to answer.

He stepped to the dresser - the tray had to contend with the hand-towel lying there, complete with its heap of fresh-cut pubic hair. His face changed ever so slightly. The implements - foam, razor, moustache clipper, lay neatly beside the pile. He managed to get the tray settled, then stepped back and looked over at us with an eyebrow raised, questioningly.

Roxy giggled aloud, said coyly "There've been some changes, Craig. Want to see?" He nodded. She flipped the sheet back, rolled slightly onto her side with one leg cocked upwards to expose her naked crotch, like a searchlight, pointed right at him.

He whistled, then grinned and said "I always did wonder what it would look like thataway. But Roxy, how could you do such a thing after all our discussions, and how much you hate the very idea of clear-cutting!?"

I sputtered, she tittered, shook her head and said "It's a renewable resource, dear. It's OKAY! Besides, I didn't do it, HE did. All his fault! And you have NO IDEA how much nicer things are, how much more sensitive and sensual, without the verdammit shrubbery! At least, I certainly hadn't a clue. I love it!"

Jim just grinned - "By damn, a man after me own secret heart, he is! Obviously a very persuasive fellow." A long, awkward pause - what was he supposed to do NOW, anyhow?

Roxy seemed anything but embarrassed, instead being somewhat focused on having no secrets. "We checked out my old trick, the head-over-the-corner throat fuck - you might be happy to know that everything still works nicely. Easier than getting back on a bicycle after a few years, really. No-brainer. In fact, he's even managed to get my very last cherry..."

Craig was obviously totally surprised. "You're kidding! He got into your bottom?" Then, immediately, to me - "My congratulations, sir! You must be the very silver-tongued devil himself... and, well, pardon me for asking, but did we BOTH enjoy the event?"

Roxy spoke: "He's got a tongue more like pure platinum and velvet, Dear... you have some very serious competition in that department! And yes, as a matter of fact, we BOTH did, very much indeed. Surprised the very hell out of me, it did. A clean shave, a nice hard cock in a well-lubricated virgin bottom, an educated set of fingers on my nipples and clit, and BLOOEY - you'd have been proud of the way I came! Don't know what the idiot sperm are going to think about things when they realize where they were dropped, though." She giggled.

Craig just tilted his head and grinned - his hardon was becoming more and more obvious, second after second. Roxy looked over at me, then back at Craig, appraising, calculating something utterly unfathomable to us mere males. "Come here for a second, Boy!" she said, reaching for his crotch. Her hand slid up his leg, inside the robe: he swayed forward towards her. "Don't see much of this phenomenon around here these days, do we? I suspect I'd better check it out. Open that robe!"

Craig looked helplessly at me, shrugged, and did it. His cock sprang out, solid, upcurved, tightly circumcised. I hadn't been so close to another man in heat for a long time, since a spectacular two-on-one, my first and only, early in my graduate-school days. I watched in bemused half-embarrassment from my semi-defensible sheet-covered position.

Roxy shook her head, muttered "Damn, can't even SEE his balls for the bush!" and with that, she leaned forward with mouth open. Just before she arrived, she stopped to look over at me again and asked sweetly "You don't mind my diverting for a few seconds, do you?"

I managed "Not at all. After all, first in time equals first in right. Besides, you women are insatiable, and even if not insatiable, then at least you're all practically inexhaustible... I'm sure there's more where ours came from, and you don't seem to be the least little bit selfish about sharing. Be my guest, please!"

She inhaled him, took three long, full-depth strokes, then abruptly yanked away and sneezed violently. Once, twice, a third.

Craig pretended to be worried - "Not suddenly allergic to me, are you?"

She sniffled. "No, it's just this goddamned brillo-pad bush of yours... tickled my nose, it did." She paused, looked up at him - his cock was bouncing with his pulse, and he was clearly in excruciatingly high need. She took a couple of fingers-full of his pubic hair and tugged, then reached beside her and flipped the sheet off of me to reveal my shaved crotch. And another, equally full hardon.

"Hubby, here's my inspiration ... I never had a CLUE how nice it could be, having all that skin and its nerves open for touching. Both ways. With whatever seems right. So... here's the proposition, Craig my dear... I'm sure Frank won't mind loaning you that heap of shaving gear over there on the dresser. Would you, Frank?"

I, of course, agreed - Mr Savoir-Faire Himself - no problem at all. Cool.

"So how about you take the next fifteen minutes and make yourself look like Frank?" Craig looked nonplussed, slightly forlorn. "I guarantee it'll be worth your while, worth the delay!"

She sat up squarely between us and wrapped a hand around each erection, looked back and forth between us, first cocks then faces, and finally almost laughed. "Gentlemen, you are very nicely matched here. Not identical by any means, but probably equal volumes to within measurement error. So there isn't going to be any goddamned one-upping of one another over SIZE! What a bloody stupid male game that is! I propose instead that you get into a competition over, let's say, woman-pleasing TECHNIQUE. How about that?" Then, straight at Craig "Surely you can wait another fifteen minutes for something special, after all these years? No shave, no nooky! You choose!"

Craig chose nooky. How incredibly odd!

As he gathered the gear, I told him "Some advice... chop it off as close as you can get with the scissors before shaving. Razor clogs like a bastard if you don't." Craig muttered "Got it. Back most skoshie!" He disappeared into the bathroom, and immediately there were new sounds -the click-click of the scissors, running water changing tone as it warmed the pipes.

She scooted over to me and snuggled, hand around my cock. "You don't mind the little detour and the extra added activities, do you?"

I grinned, said "Not a goddamned bit do I mind, you are the conductor in this little soap opera, so just let me know..."

She replied "Oh, goody!" and dropped down to inhale my cock again... just to tease, but quite effectively.

We were sitting semi-demurely on the bed when Craig reappeared... the fur on his belly stopped in a perfectly straight horizontal line about three inches above his cock-root. One or two little red spots showed where his inexperience and hurry had bitten him, but there was no major damage. And if anything, his cock was more ready than when he started.

Roxy whistled appreciatively, and asked impishly "No soap on that thing to irritate my tonsils, is there?"

He shook his head.

She reached for him, got his cock in hand, pulled him towards the bed, patted the mattress and said "Lie down here, on your back. Mommy wants to ride her Cock Horse to Banbury Cross." He didn't move at once, but eyed me. Roxy caught the hesitation, looked at me: I told them "I'd be happy to leave you two alone if you'd like..."

She shook her head - "No, not at all. Stay right there, it's a king-sized bed for god's sake, and a very solidly-built one at that. Plenty of romping room for three. If need be, that is."

I stayed put and Craig did as he was told. Roxy straddled him, positioned his cock between her pussy-lips, and settled atop him with a deliciously erotic groan. Craig's hands went immediately for clit and nipples: Roxy seemed to appreciate the attention - her eyes closed, she rocked hard. Harder. Stopped breathing and went brilliant pink over her entire upper body. Made fists with her feet. And came. Once, twice, three. Craig hadn't come yet when Roxy reached for my cock and said "There's room in back, Frank, I think, now that I'm broken in -- if you're interested..."

Beneath her, Craig's eyes widened, then he laughed and said "No goddamned shit, woman... really?"

I expressed my deep interest by straddling the heap, with some muttered apologies for being unsure of myself in an unusual situation. With no special effort at all, other than a bit of care about my balance, I slid into Roxy's bottom. It was a strange feeling, having another cock even in the ROOM with me, much less only a sixteenth of an inch away from my own hardon.

Between us, poor Roxy struggled to establish the rhythm she needed. Sweat broke out instantly, all the way around. Up top, with freedom to move at will, I began to stroke, studying Roxy's needs, looking for precisely the right angle and speed and depth. Two bodies lower, Craig contributed what he could. Between us Roxy sputtered, groaned, and slid her hand down between her and Craig's pubes. Her fingers helped light her off: in seconds she was almost apoplectic. Beneath her Craig spoke, apparently to the world at large, then directly over Roxy's shoulder to me, eye-contact established, an amused, almost chortling tone in his voice. "Who the hell would have thought? Horniness can over-ride almost any inhibitions, I guess... by the way, Frank, I suppose it doesn't mean we've gone suddenly gay, just because our balls are slapping together while we do this... or does it? I don't FEEL queer!"

Roxy managed to say "Shut up and fuck!" Good advice, well received.

It took some practice, very quickly acquired, but we managed to make a team out of the arrangement. In the midst of Roxy's paroxysms, Craig went off - for me, having that spasming of another man's cock laying along the entire length of my own was extraordinarily unsettling, and -truth in all things!- seriously erotic, too.

Roxy stopped moving her hand, lay gasping between us for a few seconds, then levered herself up and said, archly, almost coyly despite the droplet of sweat hanging from the tip of her nose and the rivulets coursing down her sides, "I'm tired of looking at my husband. Frank, how about getting off, or out, for a minute, and then you and Craig can change places?"

Craig nodded vigorously and she said "Thought you wouldn't object." Then to me, over her shoulder, "It really should be his turn in there now - after all, he's been after me to give him my butt for thirty years, and it's hardly fair that you should have an exclusive on it after he's waited so long. Probably actually given up, haven't you, Dear?" She slid sideways, freeing herself from his cock as he muttered "Damn straight I had! 'Bout time, I say!"

We switched, as ordered. Craig found the entrance without difficulty, slid in, and muttered "AAAAhhhhh - home at last!" Roxy, bless her heart, understood the level of his need and turned to say over her shoulder "Just pound me. Deep as you can go, and fast. I don't think Frank will mind. And I know you have a second in there near the surface. You always did!"