Helping Hands - Billy's Story

Teresa, ever the gracious hostess, dealt easily with a slight awkwardness that had followed the introductions. "Now, darlings, no-one has to be shy here. We all want the same thing and I don't see any reason to put it off. I think the bedroom is indicated."

Interestingly, John led the way and, once there, enquired politely if he could use a coat hanger. His voice was soft with just a hint of the countryman. He opened a wardrobe door and removed his jacket. I concluded he was no stranger to Teresa's boudoir. Turning to face us, he paused with his hand on his belt buckle. "Yes, John, please carry on." Teresa might as easily have been asking him to display the roses she says he grows. "Show Billy I haven't exaggerated. And while we're about it, we can show you something, too."

Moving to my side, she stepped out of her housecoat and motioned that I should do the same. With one arm round my waist, she slid her other hand inside her knickers: my cue, too. Any embarrassment I felt at behaving like this in front of a man I had met only minutes earlier didn't last. John, having removed his trousers and hung them with his jacket, turned to us with his own hand in front of his groin. "I hope I won't disappoint you," he said.

In one movement, he removed his hand and stepped out of his boxer shorts. I remember thinking I hoped he'd take off his socks (which he soon did) but that couldn't seriously detract from the magnificent sight of a huge erect penis, circumcised, the head purple and gleaming. Only lightly supported by his fingers, it stood out proudly from a few wisps of grey hairs. He certainly didn't disappoint me.

So far, so good. But what now?

The same question was apparently troubling John. Looking from me to Teresa, he said, "Excuse me, Terry, but this is all a bit strange to me. How do you want to - "

Terry? It was the obvious diminutive, just as I had become Billy, but I had never heard it applied to my friend before; the relationship grew more intriguing by the minute. Teresa was unflustered, calmly taking charge. "This is Billy's treat," she said, "but perhaps I could just have a little taste first."

Indicating that for the moment I should perch on the edge of the bed to watch, she knelt in front of John and took his penis in her left hand, guided it to her mouth and kissed the tip. John widened his stance slightly and closed his eyes. Teresa turned to reassure herself that my view wasn't obscured before opening her mouth. The relish with which she set about taking in the rigid member was unmistakable. I noticed that she seemed unable to cope with much more than half the length. How, I wondered, would I manage?

I didn't have long to wait. Teresa was preparing him for me and it must be said that he didn't need much preparing. Our hostess rose to her feet and brought John to the bed. "Now," she told him, "there's no reason why we shouldn't both give Billy a good time. Can you just kneel there?"

When John nodded acceptance, Teresa persuaded me to lie back on the bed. John knelt beside my head. Suddenly that distended purple knob that had just emerged from my friend's mouth was only inches from my face. "Are you all right, Billy?" he asked.

I nodded, smiling, encouraging him to continue. I did appreciate his cautious approach but my anticipation of experiencing a strange man hadn't begun half an hour ago; I had been building up to this moment for days. I was ready. I wanted that cock. Opening my mouth, I reached up and grasped the shaft and took it in. Impossible to describe how it felt to me but it had to be good for John, too. I was determined this shouldn't be some abstract technical experience on his behalf. I hollowed my cheeks and sucked. I held him outside me while I licked the underside of his knob, cupping and squeezing his balls with my other hand. I knew it was working when John began thrusting movements, pressing forward to bury as much as possible of that great length between my lips. I pressed my tongue against it as it entered, creating the friction he was starting to enjoy.

That was when I discovered what Teresa - Terry? - had meant when she spoke of both of both of them giving me a good time. While I devoted all my efforts towards more saliva for better lubrication, more suction for greater arousal, I became aware of Teresa moving my legs apart and raising my knees. I knew what would follow. Wasn't this how we we had behaved when there were only the two of us? I felt her mouth descend upon my sex to begin the teasing titillation which so many times in the past had brought me to the inescapable brink.

Now, though, it was a more complex relationship and I was caught in the middle. I had to be aware of the sounds and movements that might tell me of John's need for a few moments of recuperation to prevent a premature discharge, but at the same my body was ready to abandon itself to whatever response Teresa's tongue was stimulating. All I can say, looking back with more experience than I had then, is that I was vaguely aware of reaching towards sexual heights I had scarcely dreamed existed.

Eventually, though by no means hurriedly, Teresa decided it was time for a change. "Would you like to have John now?" she said.

No need to ask, but I had a contribution of my own to make. "Yes," I said, "but like this." Slightly apprehensive about taking that monster when I was on my back, wide open and susceptible to deep penetration, I wanted him to take me from behind. I let John remove my knickers, running his hand across my vulva as he did so. That done, I turned on to my knees and waited. John took his time, enjoying the view I was offering him, I suspect. Then I felt the first contact, the bulging head nudging against my lips, testing to see if I was ready.

While I was wondering where Teresa was in all this, I heard her voice. She was speaking quietly, to John and to me, introducing a new element to the erotic mix. And this was a different, startling Teresa, speaking softly but raising the temperature with uninhibited language.

"Billy," she murmured, "John is going to give you his cock now. He'll be careful, I promise you, but he'll be trying to get it all up you." The head nestled between my lips. Then Teresa again: "That's good, John. Slowly and you won't have a problem. That's a hot, wet cunt. I know. I've been there." It was already making its way inside. I felt Teresa's hands on my bottom, spreading me wide to help his access. "See if you can go all the way in, then hold still. Let her feel your balls up against her." The probe came slowly but with relentless determination, burrowing into my inner depths. The further he penetrated, the more sure I became that I could take it all. He stopped, pressing hard against my bottom. I was aware of the knob nuzzling my uterus. I could feel his balls, swaying against me.

Teresa gave us time to appreciate the sensation, ensuring that John grew accustomed to the humid walls pulsing against his shaft while he still had control. Then she urged him into action again. "Now fuck her, John. Like you do me. Slowly now." I felt him withdraw until I guess, about half his length was outside. "I knew she wouldn't let you down. She's so wet in there - her juice is all over your cock. Give it to her now." John began to pump. With each insertion the speed increased. There was more force, too. I was loving it, happy that I could cope with the size, settling into John's rhythm, aroused further by Teresa's encouragement. " Yes, John, fuck her faster. I'm sure she's all right. It's what she wanted." He was holding on to my hips and that seemed to help him settle into a consistent tempo. We had found an equilibrium and with it the confidence to give ourselves up to a pleasure that grew ever more intense without threatening to overwhelm us.

Until Teresa appeared in front of me. I saw that she, too, was now without knickers as she slid half underneath me, opening her legs, holding her labia open with her fingers to display the moist pinkness within. The invitation couldn't have been more obvious, but Teresa was on a roll. "Lick my cunt, Billy. Suck me. Get your tongue up me. Nobody can do it like you."

It wasn't easy. Teresa was already on heat and was soon squirming with pleasure as I tried to give her what she wanted. The problem was maintaining contact as every piston stroke from John rammed against me, jolting me forward. Somehow, we managed, John fucking, me sucking, John gasping as he fought to master the rising juices in his balls, Teresa moaning and mouthing the words she hoped would drive me to finish what we had started. The three of us went at it with renewed urgency. A series of tremors in her thighs and a lurching pelvis accompanied by a loud, wailing cry announced her orgasm. Immediately, John reined back, decelerating with each insertion until he was able to withdraw completely. Rolling on to my back, using Teresa's lower stomach as a pillow, I saw that his erection was undiminished.

Teresa was aware, too. "I'm done, John," she said. "Billy's sucked me dry. You finish her off. Fuck her and make sure it's good for both of you."

We needed no second bidding. I had long ago embraced the debauchery I had invited, and now I was ready for its culmination. Teresa reached behind her head to hand John two pillows which he arranged under my bottom. With my knees drawn up and the soles of my feet firmly planted, I was open and waiting.

John was astonishing. With the same thoughtful care he had shown throughout, he steered his great cock into the waiting portals, paused for a few seconds and then re-established the same rhythm he had used on me from behind. The difference now was that I could lift my head and watch that stiff rod as it slid inside me, see on each withdrawal the glistening juice that lubricated it. There was the sound, too, of perspiring flesh against flesh. There were Teresa's almost incoherent cries of lust, urging us to seek new limits, new areas of ecstasy. She moved from underneath me to suck at my nipples. Her hand stole down to find my clitoris. She had sensed that neither John nor I could resist for much longer.

"Don't come yet, John." She spoke with unexpected authority, the old Teresa, masterminding the finale. "Let me get her there first. Then - you know ..."

Whatever that entailed, John understood. I saw him close his eyes in concentration and then gave myself up to reaching the most overpowering orgasm of my life. John continued to fuck me, feeding his cock to the back of my cunt while Teresa worked my clitoris. They didn't hurry. I made a conscious effort not to reach for it. And so together we strove, up and up and up to the point of no return. When it came, Teresa clamped her palm across my mound as though to contain the throbbing pleasure that originated there and coursed through my body.

John, meanwhile, was no longer inside me. He was standing, feet straddled each side of us as Teresa and I lay side by side. His hand was working the shaft of his cock in much the same manner that he had fucked me, confidently stoking up the pace until, with a deep groan, a stream of spunk rained down on us. A virtuoso performance had finally delivered. As we lay together recovering, I thought back to my nervousness in raising the possibility in the first place -and wondered why I had waited so long.

****************************

If subsequent weekends with Teresa and John never quite scaled those delirious heights again, experience brought deeper awareness. I can honestly say that our couplings never disappointed. There cam an occasion when Teresa blithely confessed that she was not averse to warming up with a spanking session. I declined an invitation to join in, but watching his hand descending on her bottom - John liked her to be wearing the black knickers - helped prepare me, too, for what followed. John, courteous, patient, Big John with his huge cock, and wise, uninhibited Teresa, with her fertile imagination, never left me unsatisfied, always sent me away eager for the next time.

There was , though, a downside. As the months passed my feelings of disloyalty to Charles grew until they could no longer be suppressed. He never ceased to encourage me to take weekends at the village, never doubted that my visits were anything but innocent. That became a problem I couldn't deal with. In the end, I had to act for my own peace of mind.

Unable to guess how Charles would react, I waited until we were in bed one evening. It was some while since he had shown any desire for sex, so I used that as an excuse to raise the subject. No to accuse but to confess. I told him everything, how it had started with Teresa at college, how we had rekindled the flame that eventually became a furnace. I included John's contribution and tried to explain how the whole experience had unlocked emotions I didn't know had lain dormant inside me.

Charles listened the whole time without speaking. But as I went on, I became aware that his hand was moving inside his pyjamas. Of all responses, this was one I hadn't foreseen. How should I react? Without pausing to think, I put my own hand down to confirm that he was indeed erect, stroking himself. "Shall I help you?" I said, hardly daring to speak.

"That would be nice," he said.

I did so cautiously, scared that if I made him ejaculate, a moment of rare intimacy might be destroyed. Instead, I heard myself say, "Would you like to fuck me?"

Charles didn't answer. He was clumsily wriggling out of his pyjama trousers, handling himself at the same time. Sensing that this wasn't the time for talk, I rolled on to my back and opened my legs. My fingers told me I was only just starting to moisten but never mind, there was a moment that had to be seized. Charles was already kneeling between my legs, pushing into me. By the time I took over to guide him along the right path, there was enough lubrication to ease the way. He started to work himself in and out.

"That's nice, Charles," I reassured him, remembering how Teresa had blown away a mental block. "I want you to fuck me hard. I like the way you do it. When you're ready, shoot your spunk up me."

Wonderfully, miraculously almost, it did the trick. Charles drove into me. "I want to fuck you," he said. "You're very wet." Thrust. "Your cunt." Thrust. "Your lovely hot cunt." Thrust. "I can fuck it for you." Thrust. "Fill it with my spunk." Thrust, "Like this!" With a shudder, he was finished, collapsing on top of me.

We talked for a long time that night. A barrier had been breached and many more were demolished before we slept. We were united in a way we hadn't been since we were married. Much has happened since. And next weekend, Teresa and John are coming to stay with us.