The Three Graces

She was in her underwear, folding her trousers on a chair, pale skinned, her big breasts moving gently inside the soft lace as she bent forwards. She reached behind her back to unhook her bra, and as her shoulders came forwards her breasts seemed to fill.

My eyes followed a blue vein, pale under the translucent skin, tracing an irregular course downwards, disappearing under the fine lace. Her breasts dropped fractionally as she undid the hooks, and then her bra fell away slowly.

The vein tracked to the edge of her areola, a large, dark, almost brown circle, slightly swollen, crowned by a bright pink nipple, long and erect. I had almost forgotten Becky for that moment, as my eyes drank in Megan's body.

But a slim hand was stroking my stomach, the fingertips of another moving delicately over the side of my breast. The heat in my belly was growing, I could feel myself swelling, growing hot and wet. Megan walked over to the bed, her breasts moving softly, liquid, sensual, tempting me who had never looked at another woman's body this way before. She smiled at me, her dark eyes crinkling, held out a hand as she lay on the bed.

The weight of her breasts pulled them sideways. Her briefs clung to her, a faint dark shadow spreading up from the junction of her thighs. Her skin glowed, aching to be touched. Her lips were slightly parted in that smile, her eyes fixed on mine, softly hungry. The very perversity of what she wanted, of what I wanted, pulled me to her.

Only Becky's hand held me back. And then Becky's lips caressed my shoulder, the back of my neck as her hand slid lower, moved in the fine hair on my mons for a moment before both hands slipped to the side of my hips and she propelled me towards the bed, towards Megan, towards ... I wasn't sure what. But whatever it was, I wanted it, ached for it.

Megan rolled onto her back, still smiling, took both my hands in hers, and for a moment just lay there, looking up at me. I looked over my shoulder. Becky's silk blouse was unbuttoned, hanging open, one small, pink-tipped breast showing as she pulled off her trousers.

Now I could see why there was no panty line; she wore only a g-string, a small triangle of black silk that clung to the swelling at the base of her stomach.

Megan pulled me down, and I moved onto the bed, bent over her. I gasped as my nipples, hot and hard, suddenly felt the cool smoothness of her skin, my breasts pressing into the softness of hers as she brought me closer, into a long slow kiss.

Her body was so soft, so smooth, so ... feminine against my own. This was so different from David and his demanding, dominating hardness.

Megan's hands, gentle on my back. Lying half on top of her, breasts crushed against the soft smoothness of her flesh, fingertips light as a butterfly on my back, my hips, the soft curve where hip meets thigh.

"Aaaaahhh-mmm-nnnngh!." That was me, that soft, inarticulate noise, emitted in spite of myself as fingertips moved between my legs, stroked, delicately explored, touched me like nobody had touched me in aeons, then moved back to my thigh so I could feel their moistness against my skin. My moistness.

The bed dipped, Becky's knees against my calf, Becky's hands spreading my legs, Becky's nipples brushing my shoulder blades as her lips whispered against my neck.

Megan's full lips were so soft against my own, her mouth open, inviting my tongue to explore its heat, its moistness. The tip of my tongue struck sparks from hers as Becky moved to one side, her small hands sliding over my parted legs.

Suddenly I was on my back, Becky's hands gripping my thighs, Becky's cheek pressing on my mons, Megan's hands fondling my swelling breasts, Megan's mouth covering mine, Megan's tongue, hot and hard, thrusting between my lips.

Almost as suddenly I was in ecstasy as Becky's fingers opened me, Becky's tongue slid between my lower lips, Becky's mouth consumed my hot, wet flesh, caressing my sex so gently, so insistently that my thighs jerked convulsively and I whimpered into Megan's half open mouth.

I can never be sure exactly what happened then, precisely what was going on as I had my first orgasm with another woman. I think they were sharing me, I think both had fingers in me. I know Megan was chewing on one of my nipples, I think Becky may actually have gently bitten my clitoris.

But the orgasm was so huge, so all-consuming that I hardly knew who I was, a wailing, writhing naked creature who neither knew nor cared who was doing what, who knew only that if they stopped she would die, who gave herself utterly to the sensations they produced, whose vulva clutched desperately at the fingers that moved and stroked and stretched it, that possessed her body and her soul.

It seemed a long time later that we lay together, covered in sweat, Megan's arms round me, Megan whispering "That was lovely, you were lovely," in my ear, and Becky's lips nuzzling my neck, Becky's slim hand stroking my stomach. Really it can only have been a few moments since I had come, but so much had changed, everything seemed so different. I felt at peace, and for the first time that night I relaxed.

And so we just lay there for a little while, getting our breath back. At least I was getting my breath back, and thinking how good I felt. But I suppose the girls were thinking different thoughts, because after a bit Megan hitched herself up, grabbed Becky's shoulders, and kind of hauled her over me. That felt good, because those small, soft breasts of Becky's dragged across mine, and rather to my surprise I wondered what it would be like to kiss them, or maybe squeeze her little pink nipples between my fingers.

Megan pushed her on to her back on the other side of the bed, knelt over her and began to kiss her, hard. I watched the way Megan's big breasts moved, then spread softly over Becky's, almost flat the way she was lying. I thought about how that would feel, too, and about touching Megan's soft, almost translucent skin.

My fingertips moving so lightly over it, just barely touching. The feel of her pubic hair, soft over the swell of her mons. Suddenly she was looking across at me, smiling, dark eyes warm, and I was actually doing it, was caressing the curve of her stomach with my left hand as she knelt astride Becky's slim thigh. I was touching her sexually, and she was enjoying it.

This was different. Before, I just lay there and let them pleasure me. Now I was joining in. I wanted to join in. I wanted to do things, to please Megan, to see if I could make Megan come. I knelt up, my left hand still under her, my fingertips still almost painfully aware of the bulge of her mons, and what was so close to them.

My right hand moved slowly over the curves of her hips. I couldn't be doing this, couldn't be enjoying this. But I was.

My fingertips slid into the cleft of her bottom, moved down. That tiny depression with the little peak of skin at the bottom, that was her anus.

Oh my God, I was touching Megan there, in a place so secret, so private ... This lovely, feminine, female creature was allowing this. A little gasp as my fingers moved said more, said enjoyment, pleasure. And only an inch or so away ... oh, Megan, Megan.

She was open, wet with arousal, swollen and welcoming and soft and hot. It was so natural to slide my fingers there, to push, to feel them penetrate her body, to see her head lift, hear her moan and then, as my fingertips explored, discovered, pressed down, to hear her gasp with pleasure, back arching.

My left hand moved, fingers pulling back, busy exploring too, squeezing the raised flesh they found, making it swell, harden, making her cry out.

"Ohh. Oh yes, yes." My turn to possess her, to make this luscious, voluptuous, gorgeous woman do what I wanted. And what I wanted was for her to come, hard. And she did, pushing back against my hand, moist flesh gripping my fingers, crying out, hips jerking, gasping for breath and out of control.

Becky just lay there smiling up at me as Megan rolled to one side in slow motion, those gorgeously big breasts quivering. Becky, slim and soft and, as I looked down her body, open and wet. Becky, reaching up, her small hands on my shoulders, then her body against mine, her nipples so hard, her stomach so flat under my hand, her mons a swelling under my fingers.

I'm going to have her too. I'm going to do this properly. I wonder what would happen if I kissed her ... where she kissed me? If I slid down her body and took her sex in my mouth. Could I do that?

Her nipple, so prettily pink, the teat red with arousal, swollen. The feel of it in my mouth, firm, resilient as my tongue pushed at it, the flesh of her breast softer than I expected. The contrast between the smoothness of her breast and the texture of her nipple against my lips.

My fingertips wet, her flesh warm and welcoming as she moaned and twisted. Megan was up on one elbow now, watching, her fingertips caressing Becky's breasts as I moved down the slim body.

She was so ready, so swollen, pink and open, wet. She was so beautiful. Tentatively, I kissed the very top of her thigh, on the front, then further down, inside. My nostrils were full of the smell of her, musky, female, the smell of arousal, the smell of sex.

My head swimming, I couldn't believe I was doing this. Slowly, oh so slowly I moved closer, then, tongue relazed and soft, I licked the open vulva in front of me, as my own fingers moved down from her mons, pulling, searching for ...aaah yes.

Becky cried out as my fingers stroked her, hips lifting against my hand, the taste of her tangy, slightly sweet, not what I expected. I slid my other hand, or most of it, into her tightness as my mouth moved up to steal her clit from my fingertips. Her cry of pleasure was muffled by Megan's mouth closing on hers.

Megan's breast, soft against Becky, the weight of it sliding over the smaller girl's sweat-soaked skin. Becky is coming now, I who have never fucked another girl till tonight can tell from the way her vagina is spasming on my fingers, from the muffled noises she is making as Megan's generous mouth covers hers.

Without exchanging a word, a look, we decide not to stop. Megan's hand strokes Becky's stomach for a minute, then moves to caress my cheek. I'd be purring if I didn't have my mouth full. Her hand moves again, and as the long fingers join mine inside Becky the small girl squeals, twists out from under Megan, and is soon lying with her head and shoulders draped over the edge of the bed, her head hanging towards the floor.

She had been so tight a moment before, yet how she has, I think, six fingers inside her, and she is sodden, almost dripping. I suck hard on her clit as I watch Megan's fingers stretching a hard nipple, pulling the soft breast up from her chest.

There is actually a squelching noise as she starts to come again, her thighs jerking convulsively, liquid pooling round our hands, a long cry echoing off the white walls, sweat pouring from the slim, writhing body. Megan, mouth half open, eyes wide, is smiling down at me.

Later, it must be hours later, we sleep.

It's still dark when I wake, fingers, tongue, lips taking me, caressing me, gripping me, stretching my sheath, stroking my clit. I'm not sure whose, I don't care whose. Maybe both of them. Almost before I am awake I am coming, hard.

Later I worship Megan's wondrous lushness, lick her till she whimpers. Soon she is kneeling over me, holding my head tight against her, rutting into my open mouth. As she comes she gushes, and I have to swallow. Oh God.

Then she takes me gently, tenderly, just her fingers. It is bliss.

We sleep with her hand covering my crotch, her fingers still inside me, my head on her shoulder and my mouth against the top of her breast.

Somewhere around 6 a.m. I come again, mewing my arousal as the milkman clatters past outside, Becky's teeth pulling at my nipple as Megan's hands open me to the cool morning air.

Saturday morning - no work, no rush. We lie there half uncovered but warm now the central heating has kicked in. I'm in the middle. The sheet is round my waist. It's covering one of Becky's small breasts, but tangled half way down Megan's thigh. The matted, woman-smelling smear of dark hair between her wide-spread thighs calls softly to my mouth.

What must we look like, I think idly, knowing that one answer is "Like David's erotic dreams."

David. How long ago that seems, he seems.

I can see the three of us in the dressing table mirror if I crane up a little. The picture of three nude girls, hair a mess, tangled sheet emphasising our nakedness, reminds me of something.

That's it - a picture, maybe a statue. One of those Victorian soft porn things. The Three Graces. That's it. The Three Graces. Us.

Megan stirs, her eyes opening slowly. She smiles at me softly, her hand reaching out. As she lifts herself onto one elbow to look at me their weight pulls her luscious breasts towards me.

"Sod David," I think, as I tug on the sheet.