Pillow Talk

"Yes, the sex. Was she delicious?"

There was something about the way Fiona said 'delicious' and it all came flooding back. Kissing Josie in their room after drinks but before dinner, cupping her breasts in his hands as he kissed her, his hard cock pressing through his trousers against her thigh.

He remembered the way her lipstick tasted but knowing instantly that it was another taste he was craving, one that Emily had denied him too long.

As he remembered he spoke, the words tumbling out as his brain filled up with the scent and the feel of the taste of Josie. He described the look of surprise on Josie's face as he had thrown her back on the bed, momentarily alarmed, even perhaps afraid, her alarm turning to delight as he dropped to his knees on the floor, grabbed her full thighs, pulling her towards him.

The image of Josie's lacy black knickers, hastily twitched to one side, of the surprising natural blonde hair of her neatly trimmed bush and the edge of her labia just visible through it, swam into his mind as real and all consuming as though she was here now, with his head thrust between her thighs.

But she wasn't there, Fiona was. And Fiona had started to masturbate. She had dipped one long white finger in her slick slit like a quill pen in a clear ink stand and was tracing a tiny figure of eight at its tip, clearly rolling her clit under her finger tip.

"Take you shirt off."

"What?" His train of thought momentarily derrailed.

"Take you shirt off." Insistent.

He did as he was told. He could hardly have done otherwise. Nonetheless he felt self-conscious as he did so. He had never felt bashful getting undressed in front of a woman before. But then he didn't think he'd ever got undressed in front of a woman who was watching him so intently, and certainly not one touching herself as he did.

A brief vision of doing some sexy striptease dance for her flashed before him but he instantly dismissed it as ridiculous. Instead he kept his eyes on her, lingering on her perfect round breasts and pink upticked nipples as he deliberately and unhurriedly undid his shirt buttons, feeling her eyes eating him up.

He wondered if this was how the girls in the strip clubs felt, being so nakedly objectified like this. It ought to have helped that Fiona was already naked but there was no disguising the power dynamic here.

He was her plaything. It felt hot and uncomfortable, in a good way and a bad way at the same time.

John remembered that word people often used to defend strip clubs, "empowering". Did he feel empowered? He wasn't sure. He did know his dick was about as big and hard as it had ever been in his life.

He tossed his shirt to one side.

"Take off your shoes and socks."

He did, his erection an unexpected encumbrancefor such a simple operation.

"Did she taste good?"

"What?" He'd lost track of what was going on again.

"Josie, did she taste good? When you went down on her?"

And suddenly he was back with Josie, her broad creamy thighs pressed against his head, her pretty blonde bush tickling his nose as his tongue probed her hot pink pussy, heat and a heady, animal stink rising off her, intoxicating, as he lapped sweet nectar.

He found what words he could to convey how fucking amazing it felt, to be licking this hot young blonde's pussy as she lay moaning on the bed, in no hurry for him to be over, happy to be pleasured, how sexy, how alive he felt.

"Did you make her come?" Fiona was now sliding two fingers deep inside herself, moving to the next level.

He nodded, described hearing the moans on the bed rising in intensity and frequency, feeling her hips buck, Josie taking charge, pushing down, fucking his face, until he was absolutely slick with her.

He described her gripping his head with her thighs at the moment of climax so hard it actually hurt.

Fiona listened as he talked, her eyes roving over his body, her fingers keeping a steady, unhurried rhythm between her legs.

"Take your trousers off." Her eyes had fixed on his crotch, his erection forcing the material up like a summer tent.

John undid his belt and unzipped his fly, aware of the thick, heavy erection that his boxers would do even less to contain than his trousers had.

He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his brow as he dropped his trousers. The tip of his swollen cock just peeping out the leg of one of his boxers forcing all the material up to accommodate a thick, perpendicular shaft that his underwear wasn't designed to deal with, which was ridiculous really.

Fiona arched one eyebrow, coolly amused. "Better lose them as well."

So he did, and now they were both naked, though somehow he was sure he felt more naked than she did. She kept up the rhythm between her legs, slowly plunging in and out. His cock twitched as he watched her, her glistening fingers emerged from her sweet, sacred places.

Fiona still looked cool and in control but John could sense that her pleasures were starting to catch up with her. Her eyes sparkled as she gazed at his cock, a hot, greedy look starting to chase away that cool, sparkling blue.

"Come here," she said.

John stepped forward. He was standing in between her open knees, his cock only inches from his face.

They paused, waited. The tension hot, sexy, unbearable.He was sure she would lean forward, take a lick then nibble, take him in her mouth.

"Stroke it for me, baby."

Once again, he did as he was told, wrapping his fingers round his shaft and running them up and down, letting Fiona see what no one else had ever seen, letting her get off watching him get off.

"What next?"

For the first time he didn't have to ask, what. He knew exactly.

"Josie was so grateful that she wanted to pay me right back. She slid off the bed and landed at my feet. I hadn't even noticed her get her tits out but here they were, bouncing around in front of me. Next thing I know they're bouncing around my cock."

Fiona moaned, cool no longer. John couldn't see her fingering herself anymore from where he was standing but he could see the exaggerated movements in her shoulder, the colour flushing her cheeks. He could hear her sharp little breaths.

Fuck! He could actually hear her pussy. Whoever thought squelching could sound so lovely. She was starting to lose control.

John was too. He pumped harder, not sure how long he could keep it in, talking about Josie's big tits pushed together round his cock, sliding up and down his shaft. If he came now, he'd come right in Fiona's face, which was something he hadn't done before. The thought of it both excited and appalled him.

"Did you come on her? Come on those big tits?" she asked,eyes wide, right on the edge.

He nodded.

She leaned back, cupping her tits with one arm, while the other worked overtime between her legs.

"Come on me. Do it, Do it. Now"

Timing had never been John's strong point but he did exactly what she wanted, splashing wave after wave of hot sticky cum over her tits and belly and neck, until it was dripping off her nipples as her body shook with the weight of her own orgasm.

They paused for a moment, letting their orgasms subside. John's eyes trailed off around the large gorgeous room in which they had been fucking. Well not quite fucking but certainly something indecent.

His eye was caught by a pre-Raphellite nymph peeping out at them from a gilt frame, all pale white flesh and naked loveliness. Just like Fiona.

He turned to look at her and smiled. She smiled back.

Her chest was rising and falling rapidly as she got her breath back, her pretty little breasts gently quivering. She fanned her hot, flushed cheeks with her hand.

Fiona sat up, back straight, her little bottom perched on the edge of the red couch, sipping her champagne. She looked dainty, almost sophisticated, seemingly either unaware and unembarrassed that not only was she naked but that she still had his cum dripping off her breasts.

She looked up at him with a dazzling smile, "I think that broke the ice quite nicely."

John just stared at her, amazed by her self-composure. She sprang to her feet and looked down at her body, seeming to become aware of John's semen for the first time. Her little nose gave the tiniest little wrinkle of distaste.

She ran a finger along one breast till it was thick and gloopy and held it up to her face, looking at it with something like curiosity. Suddenly her red tongue darted out, licking her finger clean, but it was dainty like a cat not hot like a porn star.

"I love it, you know," she looked at John, "you coming on me like that, marking me. It's pretty sexy," she spoke like it was a regular occurrence, "but it makes a hell of a mess."

She stepped away from him and towards the door, facing fully away from him. "I'm going to clean up," she said, not looking back.

Fiona reached the doorway then she stopped, as if suddenly unsure. She turned her head but not her body, the profile of her head showing to John but at 90 degrees to her body. She was looking out of the window.

John turned to look too. He could see the open French windows, the balcony, the green sward, the lake and the forest beyond.

"Can you swim in that lake?"

"I suppose so."

She flashed him her most dazzling smile, "Fancy a dip?"

Not waiting for a reply she was off, scampering like a schoolgirl across the living room and out onto the balcony. John followed after.

He no longer felt at all self-conscious running after her as she practically skipped through the meadow like some kind of nymph, naked as the day she was born, her beautiful white round bottom flashing in the sunlight, as she raced towards the cool, inviting waters of the lake.

It was going to be a hell of a weekend.