The Truth Game

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Two liberated couples play the Truth Game...
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'No' squeals Zoe's unconvincing protest. 'You CAN'T tell them THAT!'

'I have to' insists Rod with equally unconvincing severity. 'This is serious. The Truth Game demands absolute honesty, otherwise it defeats its whole purpose. Sharon and John have told us of their, erm... eventful sexuality, in arousingly intimate detail, so the least we can do is be just as explicitly candid with them.'

Zoe wrinkles her nose and sticks out a wet tongue. 'Well alright, go ahead, but I'll be checking for quality and accuracy.'

The dimmer switches are low, the TV on with the sound down flashing up off-colour erotic videos. The CD player pulses out gentle Funk that sends its UV needles bouncing into red. Sharon shimmies her landslip of thick auburn hair aside and sips at her rosé wine. 'This is the part of the evening I look forward to.' Her full lips glisten. 'So come on, Rod. Don't be shy. Tell us all about your Dorset weekend, don't leave one gross details out.'

John grins and pulls her closer to him on the divan. 'nosey bitch with a dirty mind, ain't she? I just LURVE that in a woman.'

'It was a beautiful weekend' begins Rod, with deliberately contrived eloquence. 'The sunlight crazy through the leaves as we drive down through Andover and Newbury. The Hotel is off the map, miles from anywhere apart from the Neolithic stone circle and the tumulus - which was MY main reason for the trip...'

'Not true' hissed Zoe. 'Inaccuracies already. Your motive was to get into my knickers.'

'Since when did I have to go all the way to Dorset to do that? And anyway, if I remember right, you weren't wearing any all weekend.'

'Well... it was warm, we were travelling light, my stockings are all I need. And the Hotel is so picturesque. There's a pond nearby with swans scudding through the long draping weeping willows, and a stone cat crouched at the water's edge as if it's about to pounce as they pass. From our room we can look out beneath the thatch and see the water. We argue whether the cat is real, or just ornamental...'

'C'mon Zoe' teases Sharon. 'Cut the crap. We don't need the full Tourist Board spiel. Get to the good stuff.'

'She means the dirty bits' adds John.

Sharon kicks him playfully.

'You mean later that evening? Me and Rod are sitting together in the Coffee Lounge. It's so 'Olde Worlde', thick black beams and horse brasses winking in the light of a real coal fire. Most of the tables are occupied too. Drab fifty-something wrinklies mostly. That's when I start feeling naughty.'

'That's not all you start feeling,' from Rod. 'She began feeding me a kiss that throbs all the way down to my y-fronts...'

'Then, beneath the tablecloth I reach across to his leg and squeeze the firm bulge of Rod's hot-rod. It felt so big and rude. We continue talking as if nothing is occurring, so I venture a little further, steal up to the zip and furtively draw it all the way down. My fingers wriggle inside and find the urgent warmth I'm seeking, and carefully extract it. So hot, stiff, cocked and loaded, so I began to wank it. What else can a girl do? And all the while we keep up the pretence of polite conversation, but I can tell my efforts are appreciated by his increasingly glazed expression as my pace quickens and his breathing comes faster...'

Sharon giggles. 'What did Rod do?'

'For a long while he said nothing, just breathes very hard. Then he says, in a strangulated voice 'expensive tablecloth, such a pity to stain it.' 'That's no problem' says I, coquettishly. 'I take cream with my coffee.' As if by accident I drop the butter-knife. My Aunt always says that when you drop a knife there's a man coming. In this instance she was right. I bend down to retrieve the knife, my head descending deviously into his inflamed lap, beneath the drape, while the low buzz of conversation goes on all around us. His cock is red and fierce, its nose sticky with seeping fluid, a fat blunt spear ripe for the sucking, its head burns up against my cheek, I open my lips like a seasoned tart and slide the gooey knob hungrily into my mouth. A few expert sucks are sufficient for it to kick up hard against my teeth, pulsing and flexing like Vesuvius at full throttle, and a second later my throat is deluged by a spurting tide of spermy cream. I tongue-lash and suck until the torrent abates, then raise my head demurely, and resume talking while replacing his moistly wilting tool in pants, sliding the zip firmly back into position.'

'What a fantastic tale' grins Sharon.

'No - there's more' Rod continues.

'You CAN'T tell the rest' says Zoe aghast. 'You wouldn't.'

'I would, and I will. It's later, as we leave the lounge, the manager interrupts us, stony faced. He tells us to follow him. I shrug agreement and let him lead the way into the rear of the Hotel to the fussily-decorated private room laid aside for his office. He's called Stuart something-or-other, balding, middle-aged, a little pompous, but not unpleasant. 'I'll come straight to the point' he began coldly. 'You were observed in the Coffee lounge indulging in disgracefully lewd behaviour. I feel, as a result, I have no choice but to insist you vacate your room.' 'You can't mean that' I protest, 'I'm sure we can arrive at a compromise agreement. We were observed?' 'There are mirrors' says the manager firmly, 'a complaint has been lodged that I cannot ignore.' So I smile, and play a hunch. 'I'm sure we can offer sufficient inducement for you to overlook our trivial misdemeanour. For instance, the minor service Zoe performed for me, she could perform for you, here and now, to prove how inoffensive an act it really is.'

The manager blusters, 'what you suggest is preposterous... it... it...'

'...would take but a matter of moments, and would resolve this unpleasant dilemma.' I knew Zoe could charm that snake right out of his trousers given half a chance. And he was weakening. 'You really mean it?' he appeals.

'She'll do as I say.'

He looks anxiously from one of us to the other. 'No... no, it's not possible.'

'Darling, remove your dress for Stuart.' And her fingers go up to the neckline fastening of her dress.

'YOU LIAR ROD! It wasn't like that at all. You know I'm not meek and submissive, Sharon. I make my own sexual choices. Stuart was a jumped-up little turd. He obviously fancied me though, he has that permanent expression that says 'let's go have a few drinks, Baby, then come back to my place and spread your pussy all over my face.' You know the kind. The situation intrigued and excited me, I knew I could manipulate him to do whatever I want. And I want to keep our room, I love that room overlooking the weeping willow and pond. So it was ME who took the initiative. It was Rod who couldn't believe his ears. They were both under my control, the room electric with anticipation. Stuart coloured with embarrassment. I just felt wanton. My fingers go up to the neckline fastening of my dress, and slide it down. Leaning forward so my long Titian-dark hair cascades in around my face as I shrug the dress off to stand in my flint-black bra, suspenders and stockings. You'll recall Rod very helpfully pointed out earlier, at the time, I wore no panties. 'Oh my god' moans Stuart. He shambles to the door. For a moment I feel sure he's going to call for help, but instead he slides the bolt and retreats to sit down heavily on the edge of his desk, near hyperventilating with nervous excitement.'

Rod smirks. 'I said 'you will service the gentleman, Zoe.' And she bends down, looking like a visual aphrodisiac, weeping pussy parting the Mohican tufts of her rich pubes, mouth open like 'Miss Beautiful Blow-Job'. Her expression painfully beautiful with lascivious intent.'

'Ignoring Rod-the-sod I step forward, the whole situation seems so deliciously vulgar. The carpet pile feels soft beneath my toes. I'm aware of the cool air on my exposed skin, the movement of my over-large breasts in the over-scanty material of my bra causing my chocolate-brown nipples to alternately pop out to say hello. I reach between the stranger's splayed legs taking care not to meet his eyes. His breathing is unsteady, his face coloured. Rod watches like he can't believe what he's seeing as I unfasten Stuart's fly-buttons - YES, buttons! Carefully folding the pants back. His shorts are spotlessly clean, as I'd expected. For a second he restrains me, as though nervous and scared, then whimpers and slumps back across the desk, allowing my fingers free rein. I tug the elastic down and there lies a large semi-erect penis, fuller and more impressive than I'd dared imagine. Without a word I drop my head, extending my tongue to outline its sleek crown intimately. It's only then I look up at him, meeting his eyes flirtily. I'm thinking 'hell, can this be real? Can I really be doing this? How can I write THIS up in my diary?' I nudge his cock up against my pouting lips and murmur 'I'm sorry for the offence I've caused. Please allow me to make reparations...'

'And she swallows it whole, like a seal gobbles a fish, clear down to the root. I watch her head bobbing along its now-glistening length, rolling the tip around her palette like the connoisseur of some exotic wine, before plunging it back halfway down her pretty throat, the shaft expanding until it's so fat it's bulging her cheeks. Causing a strain in my own trousers so great I just have to relieve the pressure, stripping so quickly I get my y-fronts tangled up around my feet and I'm hopping ludicrously on one foot till they come free. Then I move forward to unshackle Zoe's bra. Seems a shame not to free such voluptuous breasts 'cos I love the way they bob and shimmy as she's being fucked, or as she gives head. As I lean around her to unfasten the catch my super-stiff action-man equipment traces randy patterns across the curve of her bare bottom. The bra comes loose, I say 'hope this feels better.' She gurgles some reply I can't decipher. And John, you know that little slurping gulping noise Zoe makes as she sucks cock...?'

'How would John know?' giggles Sharon pointedly.

'I naturally assumed he would,' from Rod, then, after a teasing pause, 'and if he doesn't know yet, perhaps before the evening's done he will. What do you say girls?'

'I say you should resume the story before we get too sidetracked.'

Zoe toys with her hair abstractly. 'What I said you couldn't understand was 'don't you dare stop'. And, you know Sharon, in South American there's supposed to be a snake with two penises that makes love for eight hours straight. That's always been my ideal of a lover. This evening in Dorset is about the closest I've ever been. I drew back a little. Stuart takes his steamed-up glasses off and wipes beads of perspiration from his forehead as I tenderly pamper his balls like they're semi-precious stones. As I work him the bulbous purple dome slithers from his foreskin snakelike. I lick my lips, swallow the full glans in one movement, sucking leisurely. He moans in his throat as I sink deeper into his lap taking more and more of his now-rampant cock into me. His breath rasping and he's making peculiar animal noises, groans and grunts. As if he's never had a blow-job in his entire miserable life. I imagine the expression of idiot ecstasy on his face, his head lolling from side to side as I suck and suck harder. This is almost like missionary work, bringing succour to the needy.'

'Her erogenous zones were out of control. The Hotel manager sits rigid on the edge of his desk with a stupefied grin as her mouth works him to a frenzy. At the same time my fingers wriggle a path down between the rounded cheeks of her bottom, along the sensitive cleft to the warm moist wound of her cunt. Her hips wriggle her approval as I locate her yielding tunnel of love, inserting a moistened index finger into a cloying wetness as delicious as a Lottery win. I line my cock up into entry position, but pause a moment, glancing across at Stuart. 'Is it alright with you if I share her?'

'He nods, tight-lipped, 'just so long as you don't (grunt) shake her too much.' So I just hold her by the waist, lift her hips slightly, then release her so the law of gravity applies and she sinks down slowly to engulf my shaft into her. A muffled murmur of pleasure escapes as I repeat the process. She trembles as I hold her tight, all the way in. I can feel her inner muscles flexing, tying to crush me. I can feel every one of her inner convulsions. We're glistening with sweat, all three of us, sexual suction doing its work. I fuck her gently, careful not to thrust so hard it disturbs her oral action. The recipient of her talented lips leers, 'she's so... uh, so... perfect.' 'That's what you get from lots of practice.' 'Can we swap over now, for a while?' he ventures.

'So we uncouple and reposition ourselves. Zoe lies on her back over the desk, once we've cleared it of documents. Now Stuart comes in between her splayed legs, her open sex flushed with the aroma of arousal, her large breasts moving seductively, her dark nipples hard and erect. She glosses her red lips into sulk position, her huge lucent eyes melting with innocence as she coo's 'but Stuart, will you still respect me afterwards?' I nearly ejaculate with suppressed laughter. 'Respect you? I think you're amazing' he breathes with obvious sincerity, parting her matted pubic hair with his glans so her succulent pink pussy-lips and saturated clitoris are gaping for him. 'Thank you kind sir' she purrs, as he slides smoothly all the way in, while I move around to her head and take my place between her other parted lips, thrusting in without preamble.'

'They fuck me in surges of exquisite sensation. And you know, Sharon, there's only one thing better than a good stiff cock, that's two good stiff cocks. I've never felt so completely sated. It's too much for me, I'm swimming in oceans of pleasure, bucking and jerking, cumming with immense orgasms like sudden death with bells on. And as it subsides I can hear Stuart saying 'there's one thing I've always wanted to do, I've seen it done in online porn sites and read about it in magazines, but never been able to find a real woman who'd do it for me.' How can I resist, Sharon? So I end up with a thick cock in each hand, wanking them both fiercely, kissing and sucking them alternately, until they fountain spunk all over my face and breasts, Stuart first, Rod a second later - like chain-reaction, rich white blobs of it quivering across my nipples like the most expensive pearl necklace. So delicious, I've never seen so much, I thought they'd never stop. And as I lick and slobber over them Stuart sighs a huge sigh of pure animal satisfaction, and says 'can't you both stay longer? On the house? No, I mean it, be my guests...'

Sharon and John dissolve in delighted laughter. Then Sharon sips at her wine slowly, thoughtfully. 'That reminds me of the time we spent on the Venetian Riviera. Do you remember, John? Shall I tell them?'

'No' groans John unconvincingly. 'You can't tell them THAT!!'

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AnonymousAnonymousover 6 years ago

As (another) Anonymous, may I say that the anonymous commenters of August '17 give those of us who go by "Anonymous" a bad name.

I shouldn't criticize them, though; perhaps they simply prefer more pedestrian 'stroke' stories, rather than writing that is more stylized, or written to create a mood and not merely an erection.

AnonymousAnonymousover 6 years ago

Your writing is not good, and your grammar is terrible.

tristantrotskytristantrotskyover 6 years agoAuthor
Answering The Critic...

Sorry 'Anonymous', I know it's not considered polite to respond to critics, and you have every right to object to my use of tenses. But this is not about great literature, this is about communication, and using the present tense adds immediacy. Forget the grammar textbooks, listen to the dialogue around you, listen to the way people tell personal anecdotes to each other in bars, 'I'm walking down the street, right? and this guy comes up to me and says 'Gimme your phone'. So I sez to him 'Whaddya mean? Sod off!' - this is the way ordinary people talk!

AnonymousAnonymousover 6 years ago
Tense, dammit

When something happened in the past, you don't put it in the present tense, dammit. It just makes the artificiality magnified. Spoiled an otherwise salacious and potentially hot story. Sorry, but c'mon.

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