Hide and Seek Pt. 07

"Oh, come and look, Matt, it's Vickie, our neighbour's daughter, with her friends."

Matthew hopped out of bed and came up to where Sarah was standing; she was leaning on the bedroom windowsill looking out. He had been watching her from the bed, thinking how fine she looked in her cotton pyjamas and whether - it was a Saturday morning after all - when she came back into bed she would cuddle up to him and make it clear she wanted to engage in marital relations - yes, to be fucked. He had already imagined undoing her pyjama buttons and slipping his hands over her breasts and, coupled with the usual morning need to 'take a leak' he was already as hard as anything and, not wearing any sort of pyjamas, there was nothing between him and her pyjama bottoms when he came up behind her.

His hands were on her shoulders. Outside he could see the girls.

"Pretty aren't they - your little groupies?"

Matthew pressed into the cotton covered crack of Sarah's bottom. The cotton felt soft against his cock and thighs, her bottom underneath felt warm.

"Ha! Thought so!" Sarah's hand had reached behind her and grasped his 'iron rod' like erection. "You dirty old man. What are they? All eighteen," she paused, "if that? Mere little slips of girls and there you are wanting to bed them all. It's really hard, I can't bend it at all - not a bit."

And she was trying to. Her hand had firmly grasped it.

"Is that those girls doing that? Making you hard. Go on, tell me. Which would you really like to fuck? Which would you like to slip this fleshy pole into and squirt your stuff? Which would you like me to capture and tie up for you? You know, spread-eagled on the bed, hands and feet tied to the bedposts, gagged and with a pillow under her hips to make entry nice and easy for your hard cock, thighs so spread and her virgin sex all exposed, hairy and open, her pussy warm and wet for you to... No resistance, no struggle, no fight..."

Her hand pulled back his foreskin hard. A non-verbal gesture with a very clear meaning.

"I might like a fight, a bit of a struggle."

"Force yourself on them, eh? You dirty old man. Do you think they are virgins? I can't imagine Vickie is, can you? She's such a knowing little miss, but that Emma Hatchard..."

Sarah was stroking him, moving his foreskin. A steady, so nice regular movement. Perhaps she might suck him?

"Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth but perhaps that's the one you'd like to fuck on our bed... or see what else could melt in her mouth, eh? Go on, Matt, fuck me whilst you tell. Quick stick it in now whilst they are out there; and tell me."

Matthew's hands reached and down came the elasticated pyjamas around Sarah's ankles. A wonderful thing to do, feel them slip so easily over Sarah's wide hips and down her thighs.

"Oooh, yes!" Sarah's bottom pushed back at him as his pointing erection unerringly slipped under her, right into her hole. She was delightfully wet already. Matthew went in easily. A practised marital connection - their sexual organs so used to being together. Fluids regularly exchanged and mingled.

"Fuck! That's nice and big Matt. I do like a big tool."

How big, wondered Matthew. He thought again about his fantasy of Sarah and the imaginary lads next door. Would she like a really big one? Big ones! Was that her private fantasy? A cock so big she could barely get it in? A cock needing her to be extra wet and requiring a bit of forcing. Him forcing himself on little Emma Hatchard (as if he needed to), Sarah forcing a big knob into herself -- to be really filled.

"Go on tell me what you'd like to do to the girls. Which you'd like to fuck." An extra push against him on the word 'fuck.' They were fucking.

Which would he like to fuck? He had, of course, fucked them all, but he could not exactly say that to Sarah. He could describe each in detail as he fucked his wife: but such a detailed and knowledgeable description might lead to a very sudden termination of the sexual intercourse and a 'domestic' - a really big marital row!

Outside in the street, over Sarah's shoulder Matthew could see the girls. Tall Vickie with her ponytail gesticulating to her friends, dressed in light blue jeans and a yellow tee shirt top. He could see she was wearing a bra. Little Emma all red headed and sweet, a nice little denim skirt, trainers and a light green top and then Morgan with her dark mane of hair in cropped rusty coloured trousers and a baggy white shirt hiding her bosom -- at least somewhat.

"They all look, um, pleasant."

"Pleasant! Fuck, pleasant, Matt! Come on. Dirty talk whilst we fuck - which one? Which one shall I hold down for you?"

Matthew was steadily pushing against Sarah's soft bottom. A nice regular squelching sound coming to him. They were fucking looking out of their bedroom window at the street. Sarah leaning on the windowsill but respectable enough in her pyjama top if, that is, you ignored the movement within the material of Matthew's hands clasping her breasts and the regular way her head was moving backwards and forwards as he pushed against her bottom. Close behind her a naked Matthew. So close behind his wife that anyone looking might think that they could very easily be sexually connected - and of course they were.

It was perhaps best if nobody in the other houses was looking from across the street - certainly not with binoculars!

"I'd like, um, well any of..."

"Matt which one? Which naked and ready to be fucked? You're there, your cock's as stiff as it is. Which one? You've got to fuck one. Which one are you going to stick your prick in?"

"Oh, um, difficult choice - Morgan, the dark one."

"Ah, ha, yes, you know her name!"

"She seems the more mysterious to me."

"Really? Mysterious?"

"Tied to the bed, you say, all her mysteries revealed! She's got lovely... she seems to have quite a chest, I mean look at her shirt... bit baggy now but..."

"Tits, Matt. Tits. Dirty talk remember. I'm sure you've looked before!"

"Err..." Perhaps Sarah meant him having looked at her shirt. "Lovely handfuls," he observed, though he also spoke from experience. They were. Matthew squeezed Sarah's boobs. "Will she suck?" He asked.

"That's more like it. Doubt it, she's tied up and with a gag, remember?"

"I'd like to feel her."

"I'm sure you would."

"You can suck me whilst I feel her. I suck her tits: you suck my cock."

"Oh, I can, can I?"

"Did you help me tie her up?" Mathew liked that idea. Two women wrestling; Sarah tugging at Morgan's clothes to remove them.

"Doubt it. Would a strong man like you need help?"

"I wonder how hairy she is?" He had no real need to wonder, he knew exactly what Morgan was like!

"Would you like that or just a little dusting of hair?"

Matthew's hand clasped Sarah's mons, "I like my women like this." His fingers moved lower, delving and his forefinger found her clit and lightly rubbed. "I'd do this to her until she is all quiet and compliant."

"Oh yes, likely - not!"

"And take her gag off."

"So she can suck your cock, Matt? You want her young lips around it? Not mine?"

Fuck! Sarah was certainly into this. And he knew already what Morgan's lips did feel like around his cock, indeed he knew what her tongue felt like licking pre-cum from him. What he had not done was come in Morgan's mouth. Perhaps that might yet happen.

"No. I'm going to have you sit on her face and she do you whilst I..."

"Not my scene, Matt, not my thing."

"Who's in charge? You'll do as you're told, or you get spanked! And you're going to watch as my cock slides into Morgan, down her dark hairy slit into her - virgin or no. I'm going to be fucking her, sucking your tits and she's going to be... her tongue... and I'm going to be watching her there between your thighs, see her tongue slurping at your hairy..."

"Fuck, Matt, I'm coming."

With the shaking of her orgasm, and it was certainly quite an orgasm, it was not surprising Matthew came too. Staring out of the window, over Sarah's shoulder, at the young girls, his cock fully engaged in his wife, he spurted; his semen going into the proper place - his wife's place, not one of the young girls he was watching. Not Morgan's dark and mysterious quim -- well not too mysterious to Matthew -- but in Sarah's familiar quim. It had all been pretty quick.

And just at that moment Vickie looked up and then nudged her friends. There was obvious giggling and then they turned away.

Hopefully Sarah's eyes had been closed in orgasmic pleasure. She would have been embarrassed otherwise. Gently Matthew eased Sarah backwards, so he was sitting on the bed and she, still connected, his cock up inside her, sitting on his thighs and knees.

"Fuck, Matt, that was good. Phew! Shower time. Let's do it again this evening, only I want to be tied up."

"You going to play Morgan?"

"Might be..."

"Shall I ask Morgan in to play your part."

"Matthew! I wouldn't want to do that. I really wouldn't... even if you would. You'd like that, though, wouldn't you? You'd like to see that? See us two women together. And you'd like to stick your tongue..."

"Please!"

"You dirty old man!"

Saturday night proved good too, perhaps even better. A good romp on the bed and it had been fun tying up Sarah. Wouldn't it have been so funny to see her face if he had brought naked Morgan into the bedroom for real? Sarah's eyes bulging above her gag, her arms and legs struggling against the bonds as he felt her over whilst Morgan sucked on his erection right in front of her eyes. Him then pushing the naked young girl down to her knees so she could suck some more s, pressing his erection forward into her mouth, it going in and out between her lips, and then watching as Morgan disengaged and clambered up onto the bed and lowered her, very dark, very hairy, snatch down so it was hanging over Sarah's face - ideally dripping as girls can do! Hot and so very wet, drip, drip, drip; Sarah staring at the pink, wet flesh above her.

"Oops, I forgot to remove the gag."

The gag removed, "Matthew! I.... mmmph" as Morgan's lovely plump and succulent (in Matthew's opinion) sex descended right onto Sarah's mouth. What a tasty, well, more than a morsel; a real oyster of a treat! Why would Sarah not enjoy it?

Of course, Matthew could not see Morgan agreeing to such a thing or Sarah being anything other than furious: but it was an arousing idea nonetheless! It amused Matthew, as lay on his bed, thinking about getting up on the Wednesday morning following. Down below his penis had, unsurprisingly, risen at the thought. He would have to see if he could get Morgan to lower her 'plump and succulent' - and, yeah, dripping sex down on his face. He would love her hanging over him with that warm, wet, peeled potato scent of aroused young girl - the marvellous view of her open and wet sex; all that dark curly hair spreading revealing her mysteries to him; her thick inner lips perhaps even quivering with excitement and (nice to imagine) her clit actually elongating as he watched - yeah, really erecting there and then; poised above him, pointing at him before she descended. Yum!

Well, if Sarah would not fancy Morgan like he did, what about those hypothetical boys? Sucking them instead. Sucking male organs - drawing the juice out. Male organs -- plural. Matthew's mind wandered back to his earlier fantasy as his hand wandered downwards and he took hold imagining once more his wife playing with the lads. What fun it would be for her to have penises -- several at a time -- to play with.

Now, how had he imagined them before?

He had imagined the boys under-endowed - or rather just some of them. Why was that? Not all of them. Subconsciously, was that not wanting some of them to outdo him, Sarah's husband? Or was it simply to give variety to the scene in his mind as Vickie, Emma, Morgan and Charlotte's breasts had variety in shape and size?

Did women worry about size? He had heard Sarah say it was what the man did with it that mattered, but she had still been clearly intrigued by how big Derek Tarrrant was on that holiday. There had been a most definite speculation about size. Clearly Sarah had thought him probably big and her somewhat strange comment about how she would like to have seen him serving - when they were playing tennis - with an erection, suggested more than a little interest. Certainly, he recalled, there had been a thickening - both Sarah and he had seen it - but not the real thing! That would certainly have been a strange game of doubles to have played. Matthew knew he had been not unmoved by the sight of Lucy's and, indeed, Sarah's breasts bounding as they ran and reached for the ball, but he had not embarrassed himself by showing his 'appreciation.' But had Derek erected, that would that have set him off as well, and he would have found himself running for the ball with his penis pointing at the sky. Would it have halted the game in laughter? The four of them standing at the net and talking but the erections staying. Would Derek's have been revealed as unusually large? Would it have led to something more? Certainly, Sarah had rather wistfully mentioned later how she would have liked to suck Derek's 'big banana.'

When masturbating did Sarah fantasise about the penis or simply the man (or men)? Matthew knew he visualised breasts a lot. More often than not, his fantasy women were big chested, but other times...

How big should he imagine? He was after all free to imagine what he liked whilst stroking.

Matthew metaphorically shrugged his shoulders. If he was going to imagine his wife with other men - even if young men - it was rather inevitable, he thought, that he was going to imagine well-endowed men. A subconscious justifying why Sarah might be taking an interest in other men, perhaps: though, rationally, Matthew knew he looked at other women for the variety not simply when their breasts were bigger than Sarah's or their bottoms more wobbly!

Why not variety as well as a big penis. Yep, he replaced little Charlotte with big Roddy, a black young bloke from the States, the school's head boy; tall, unlike Charlotte, really tall, deep voiced but softly Southern spoken and so athletic. His skin shining with health and possessing the biggest dong Sarah had ever seen.

He paused: would it be more amusing to give the smallest lad the biggest dong and big Roddy a little small thing? Such a big, impressive lad, tall, muscular and a real sportsman, but his penis only two inches when erect! Perhaps big balls, little dick. Such an embarrassment to Roddy with the other boys but Sarah kind and letting Roddy fuck her (just) and not letting the other boys. Or perhaps having him with a surprising ejaculatory force - a real 'shooter?' Matthew weighed it up and stuck with 'big.'

How big? Matthew imagined it big when flaccid, implying promise of similarly big when erect (though he knew that was not necessarily the case but, given this was all in his head, it could be just as he wished!). Such a big thing hanging there - floppy but not something you would miss at all; and he added big balls to match, in a very slack hanging scrotum plus the knob fully exposed - 'cut' as the expression went. No subtlety, no hiding of the business end - the knob! The streamlined knob exposed and all that it implied. How big erected? A twelve incher? Surely not possible, no one could be more than twice the average, if six inches was average: but this was in Matthew's head, he could imagine what he liked! And with a girth to match. Fucking enormous! But he settled on nine inches as whopping, but not absurd. The difference with his own, dramatic enough without dwarfing it!

Big when soft, he imagined Sarah's eyes following its swing rather like his own eyes followed big, wobbly breasts upon the beach. Where would that be? In the garden again -- Sarah with the four lads -- or perhaps on a beach. Matthew recalled that holiday with Derek and Lucy Tarrant where they had gone on that beach and not everyone had been 'decently' covered. Sarah had nudged him and he had followed her eyes to see a very pleasing and athletic couple coming back up from the water stark bollock naked; the man certainly 'bollock' naked -- they and his cock swinging to and fro. His eyes had been on the girl, fantastic boobs and a completely shaven mons veneris -- not just a camel toe under a bikini but it there in the flesh, her figure so hourglass. And they had walked right by Sarah and his towels, beneath his dark glasses he had taken a very good look, had even seen a glint of gold. Fuck, he had thought, her clitoral hood was pierced and had a ring. He had blinked and glanced at the man's package as it swung by; he had missed it before but the man had a gold ring not simply around his cock, not nestling tightly behind his glans but behind both penis and balls clearly giving attenuated prominence to the whole, yes, package. How big was that thing when erect? And that had not just been his thought but Sarah's too when they had talked in bed. 'Did you like her?' she had asked, but that had led to him asking about the man.

It had been clear Sarah had been intrigued by how big that man and, indeed, Derek got, she had wondered aloud, quite openly saying she would like to have them. So, too, would she not be the same with the imagined Roddy. How about, and Matthew was wanking now with enthusiasm, Sarah and he on holiday at a rather uncrowded beach, yes just them and three or four lads messing around, swimming, kicking a beach ball and, yes, all naked, to Sarah and his surprise and her obvious pleasure. Four very pleasing young men, one of them the hypothetical Roddy, with athletic bodies, tight stomachs and bums -- and flapping around genitalia. He imagined Sarah suggesting after a while, maybe after a swim with their costumes all wet, that maybe they were 'overdressed' for this beach in a bikini and shorts.

'Shall we join the local custom?'

'I wish one of them would get hard.' Would Sarah really say that, would she really say and want that? Matthew rather thought she would. She had clearly wanted to see Derek Tarrant's. In his mind there was no problem with that. He just had to imagine. How might it be, on what seemed to have turned in his head into a nudist beach? Roddy simply in exhibitionist mood and wanting to impress Sarah? Perhaps casually walking past her fully erect -- nine inches erect! Or perhaps the need for a pee causing an erection before he thought to take a swim and deal with the matter! Or maybe Sarah becoming subtly amorous with her husband; it was not unusual for couples to kiss on a beach, perhaps not unusual to have a bit of discrete fondling

Somewhat difficult to imagine even one of the four young men on the imagined beach actually getting hard. Their original cursory glances at the older than them couple on the beach turning to more than occasional glances in their direction when they spotted the fondling. Certainly, still kicking the beach ball around but not going too far away, their attention moving from the ball to the naked woman on the towel on the sand. All in Matthew's head, so he could imagine moving his hand from Sarah's breast and running his fingers into her slit, stroking there. Might Sarah moan and open her legs? Might she look up and see the lads watching and open her legs further? Give them a real look.

And would not that result in Matthew getting turgid? Naked on the towel, unless he rolled onto his stomach, he would be exposing his erecting cock to the ball kicking or throwing lads. The embarrassment of it, but it had come into his head and he was still wanking! But what of it? Does a man not really want to display his cock, peacock like? Is it a modern society thing to keep it all hidden? Should men, instead, not be shy, but proud about being naked in front of others, displaying their masculine body traits -- indeed their generative organs. Surely that was a primal urge; males naturally wishing to show off their cocks and strong bodies to attract females and threaten other males. Did they not want other men's admiration towards their male virility and cock -- and most especially female admiration?

The idea excited Matthew there in his bed, wanking away; unfortunately, though it was his mind's choice, Roddy would prove more impressive than he. In his imagination the four young men very visibly reacting to his fingers stroking Sarah's pussy; his fingers dabbling between her open legs. The foreplay so visible in the bright sunshine. The throwing or kicking of the beach ball stopped as the four lads just stared. And then, one by one, their cocks stirred, swung and rose up into the air. In his ear Sarah whispering, talking about the four cocks, her eyes not on him but the lads and their growing erections. Young men displaying their virility, peacock like perhaps, not intentional but just happening.

The lads not coming closer, not doing anything but stare. The chance to be exhibitionist; at least in his imagination. Would Sarah like that? Would she enjoy her body being on show. Her legs so open, revealing everything to the young lads. And would she enjoy having him get her onto her knees to fuck her doggy style? Him sliding his cock between her buttocks as the young men watched, their cocks all so stiff. Penetrating Sarah, sliding home and then making those liquid sounds penises and vaginas make -- discernible over the gentle sound of the surf.

Should he imagine the lads joining in? What would Sarah have done? What should he imagine? Her eyes fixed on the four young erections as they came a little closer to watch the fuck. Smooth young penises, stiff and potent. Might he get up as they approached, an instinctive action to protect his wife; withdrawing his penis, scrambling to his feet to face the young men. His own cock so stiff and glistening wetly from Sarah. How would he feel coming face to face with Roddy's nine incher -- or should he imagine a twelve incher? Sarah staring at the thing in disbelief and his own so normal cock looking tiny in comparison.

He could imagine, even if she would not in reality, Sarah rising up on her knees and reaching with both hands to the boys, taking a cock in each hand and stroking. How would he feel about that? Would the other lads start stroking in response? Might he too as he watched his wife handle other men's penises? The size, though, of Roddy's erection there in his wife's little hand. So dwarfing his own, perhaps the other lads' too. Best, though, to imagine it on a hair trigger. Not as perfect as it looked. Sarah hardly having grasped it - if she could - before it went off, spurting over her. Dramatically over her.

That would be good! All in his imagination so he could look smug as the great truncheon collapsed whilst his own stayed firm. In his bed Matthew continued to wank enjoying the images of Sarah, the young, aroused men and him on the beach. Might she suck the other young men, perhaps as he re-entered her. Roddy no longer big and stiff - out of it. The other young men as smug as he, as they took turns between Sarah's lips.

But disaster -- Roddy's cock rises again. Roddy's refraction time short and his staying power probably going to be much stronger the second time! Sarah's eyes wide as Roddy erects. His great cock reappearing. Pulling herself from her husband and inviting Roddy in, inviting him to really stretch and fill her.

Matthew could not help it, his mind taking over the story, pushing the sight of Roddy's big 'rod' going into his wife's hole to the forefront of his mind; so big, so impressive -- such a cock. Matthew came, strong spurts right up his stomach, indeed between his nipples, even onto his chin. Wanking hard at the image in his head of his wife being fucked by such a well-endowed young man.

As he lay there, semen cooling on his skin, Matthew wondered what would a woman in heat, yes, Sarah, really do with four young men and their erections? What would she have done with Derek Tarrant had things got anywhere that far on that holiday?

A party at Sarah and Matthew's neighbours -- Vickie's parents. A little worrying for Matthew. He was sure Sarah would be watching him. He did not think she really was suspicious. Why should she be? It was a bit unlikely young Vickie, Morgan, Charlotte and Emma would have any sexual interest in her husband. Quite absurd to imagine otherwise. The reality rather different. Very pleasurably different. Matthew had been sucked into the girls' games and naughtiness. 'Sucked' was certainly the word! So too the phrase 'into the girls' -- he had been drawn right into them, both games and bodies. No need to seek, they would find him out. Matthew could not hide from them and, he suspected, they would all be at the party.

All four girls there, dressed very much young women in slinky dresses, the ones he had seen before at the previous party at Emma Hatchard's house. As soon as he saw the girls he wondered if they had knickers on beneath those dresses. They certainly seemed to cling to their skin and not a hint of anything to disturb the flow of the material underneath, not a hint of a waistband or anything. Something of a snort from his wife beside him as she was greeted by their hosts. Sarah had seen him looking.

Matthew avoided the girls, moving with his wife around the other guests, chatting about this and that, drink in hand. Sarah was a teacher, and teachers do rather talk 'shop'. With Sarah engrossed in conversation with a teacher friend, Matthew edged away from the, to him, not very interesting talk. And that led him to Vickie.

"Mummy and Daddy are going to be away all tomorrow, Mr Stamford, it's going to be a nice day I think so... could we perhaps play in your garden, or you in ours?"

The prospect of being outdoors in the sunshine with a naked Vickie and perhaps some of the other girls certainly something to look forward to.

"I think we might."

"Oh goody."

And up came the other girls and Vickie proceeded to tell them he was free for the morrow, talking out loud to the girls about being naked, perhaps being chased and fucking. It made Matthew look around to see if anyone was catching any of their words.

"Which of us are you going to fuck now, Mr Stamford."

That made him turn back in a hurry.

"Vickie!"

What if someone overheard that? Not an oblique reference or anything. A question as clear as anything.

"I can't, Vickie, not now. Everybody here." He could have added 'including Sarah'.

"We'll choose for you." And they were off, four delightfully rounded bottoms outlined in their dresses walking away from him. He caught Ian Castleton's eye and went to talk to him. Ian was, as always, full of steam engine and model railway talk, but even he went so far as to mention the girls and their dresses, in a roundabout way.

"Mmmm, streamlined LMS, Coronation Class, that dark girl's crimson dress very 'Duchess of Hamilton' don't you think?"

Matthew really had no idea what Ian Castleton was talking about, but he let the enthusiast flow on. Better Sarah saw him talking to Ian than Morgan with her mane of waving black hair. He was, though, half hard, what with what Vickie had been saying and thoughts of stoking Morgan's boiler, her lower curls very much as black as coal. No doubt her bottom and strong thighs had some resemblance to the streamlined, curvaceous railway engine Ian was talking about.

"6220 'Coronation' did hold the speed record for a time. She went fast, 114mph south of Crewe..."

Matthew thought Morgan would prefer slow, a bit of shunting rather than fast pulling!

And, funnily enough, that's just what she got. Matthew was trying to think of a suitable stratagem to escape Ian's explanation of the difference between track gauge and scale in model railways. If you are interested, and Matthew was not, gauge is the distance between the inner running edges of the model railway rail. It is not connected to the size of the stock running on those rails as that is a matter of 'scale'. Unless 'fine scale', the rails are not in proportion to the stock -- they are not at all to 'scale'. OO gauge has 16.5mm between the rails but OO is a scale of 1:76 not 1:72 like most plastic model aeroplanes. The model is 76 times small than the real-world prototype. OO is sometimes referred to as 4mm scale, as 4mm on the model relates to 1ft in the real world. Well, you asked!

Understandable that when Vickie sidled up to him and whispered Morgan would 'like to see him' he made his excuses to Ian. Morgan was not built to a scale, she was life sized, 1:1 scale, and very well modelled indeed, all parts working.

Morgan was in a cupboard, Vickie explained and, moreover, took him to it; she looked around to see if anyone was around, and bundled Matthew in and closed the door. A built-in cupboard for storing brooms and the like, all away from where the party was in full swing. To say Matthew was a little surprised by it all would be something of an understatement. Clear the girls had talked and chosen. Had Morgan particularly volunteered or been voted into the cupboard? Was it in some way, 'her turn'?

"Hallo Mr Stamford," came out of the darkness in the cupboard, just a so thin strip of light showing where the doors joined.

"Um, hallo Morgan." Matthew was at a party, with his wife, and suddenly finding himself in a cupboard with a very attractive (not that he could see) girl and seemingly with an invitation to fuck. Was it for him to make the first move? Clearly his penis thought he should get on with it, it had already expanded to its full size. Had stood up ready for what would come next. Could Matthew really do this at a party with his wife in the same house -- and in a cupboard?

Sometimes it is a bit of a puzzle where to put your hands. Matthew put them either side of Morgan, on her ribs with just the thin material of her slinky crimson dress between him and her young skin. Morgan's lips suddenly on his own. Was she wearing lipstick? He did not think so but... a mirror would be essential as soon as he was out of the cupboard.

Never mind what he might do with his penis, Matthew was concerned at what his face might betray!

It was not as if Matthew had not had carnal relations with Morgan before. No reason not to slowly draw her dress upwards, feel the material slide and to know what was under the hem would be coming into view -- had it not been dark inside the cupboard. He would need to feel to find out. Not that he was not pleasingly familiar with Morgan's untamed and so dark bush. Matthew had explored before, had found his way through that thicket to the hidden pool within. As they kissed Matthew, drew the material upwards, feeling movement as Morgan parted her legs.

So tight that the dress stayed up around the girl's waist once lifted. Morgan would need to remember to roll it down again afterwards. 'Afterwards' indeed; after fucking -- Vickie had indicated that was what was to happen. Matthew moved his hands to young Morgan's breasts. His fingers spreading over them, within the slinky material of her dress. Hard points rubbing against his palms. At the same time he felt fingers on his trousers, fingers feeling for his manly bulge, before lowering his zip. As he moulded and manipulated the teenage breasts he felt himself being drawn out. Curly hair against his exposed glans, wiry and plentiful; more than you might have expected from a girl barely a woman. She was rubbing him against herself, rubbing her slit through her dark curls. And she was not wearing knickers -- he now knew that.

What would have been seen if the cupboard door suddenly been pulled open and the two of them exposed to the light? Pretty much everything 'important'! Even one of Morgan's boobs had now been slipped from her dress. Matthew bent to suck the nipple, drawing his lips from Morgan's and fastening them upon her teat. Her hand continued to slide the soft skin of his prepuce over his glans and down again. Just the sort of thing Matthew sometimes did in bed in the morning after Sarah had gone off to work. But a teenager's fingers so much to be preferred. As Matthew returned to an upright position, his lips seeking Morgan's, the girl now slid the rounded end of his penis between her legs and stroked. Stroking wet girl flesh, stroked her pussy with his cock, like she might have done to herself in bed with a hairbrush handle or something equally hard and phallic. Of course, Matthew had at times wondered, naturally penis in hand, what teenage girls did use to stimulate themselves; what wide variety of objects found themselves pressed (and 'pressed' was certainly the right word) into service.

Would a schoolgirl even look hungrily at a cucumber, not to make cucumber sandwiches or a salad for supper, but as a substitute for the male organ? Rather large, certainly, rather thick particularly, for the younger, less experienced woman, but might some not be tempted? A move up from a banana or carrot maybe. Taking the Jolly Green Giant to bed with them! Had Matthew even once or twice glanced at schoolgirls at a bus stop in pleated grey, navy or moss green skirts and jackets and wondered if one of them had been so bold as to masturbate with a cucumber; if not penetrate, certainly rub its rounded, penile shape, along her sex, push against her hole and most definitely rub her engorged clit with it until a lovely orgasm ensued. Cool cucumber against hot little clit. Might she even draw her lips over it, perhaps all slippery with her sexual juice and pretend she was fellated a man, maybe her teacher, maybe a boy she fancied, maybe even her uncle!

And what of the cucumber? Not wasted surely. Might it indeed end up in the salad? That self-same uncle, maybe, who had been so much in mind during the girl's orgasm tucking into slices whilst perhaps engaged in asking his favourite niece about her homework, little knowing she would so like to rub his real flesh and blood penis up and down her virgin crack, maybe even have it push in a little way.

It was Matthew who did it, not Morgan, it was he who pressed forwards and upwards, his penis sliding through her fingers and into her body. Matthew's mature and well used penis going into Morgan's not exactly virginal but not yet much used hole, and up into her body. So smooth, so hot and so lubricated, Matthew's rounded knob just opening the way for him as he stretched and expanded into the girl. But having penetrated Morgan, she did not stand still, rather she started moving against the penis, pushing down to get more into her body, moving upwards to feel its shape so enclosed within her vagina, feel the very slight friction of the movement, certainly feel the tugging upon her clit and all the rest of her sex.

A wet connection, a round peg in a round hole and working perfectly together. Lips joined and sexual organs joined. Such a normal thing for male and female; only, only Matthew was not Morgan's proper mate and she not his. What would Sarah think if she knew? Would, deep down, she be pleased that her man was so attractive to other women, particularly, it seemed, young women -- girls really?

Copulation in a cupboard. Tongues in mouths, penis in vagina, bodies together. Morgan was not so little, rather more solid than Vickie and certainly Charlotte. Firm muscular thighs and broad shoulders. Not someone to mess with. Her arms went up and around Matthew's neck and bracing herself against the side of the cupboard, lifted herself up and locked her ankles around Matthew, forcing more of his cock into herself. Just that extra penetration, that extra maleness inside her; perhaps the action, maybe the change in angle of attack by the cock, seemed to do it for Morgan. An extra thrust of her tongue and she was shaking. Shaking with orgasm, the shaking so transmitting itself to Matthew -- his body and penis. Lovely -- lovely for both! Sarah was going off on a conference soon, perhaps Morgan might like to keep him company in bed and do some more shaking. He would need to be careful, not so much about the absent Sarah, but to be fair to all the girls. Would they all want to share his bed. Perhaps even all at once! Five in a bed sex! Matthew and four girls, fucking them all sequentially -- his round peg going into four round holes!

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," whispered Morgan as the round peg continued to move in its hole. Not Morgan moving now but Matthew, sliding his cock out and plunging back in.

"Please stop... too sensitive."

But Matthew was now about to come, the ejaculation building as he pushed the harder and faster against the girl, his hands under her buttocks holding her up, even her unlocking her ankles did not allow Morgan to escape, did not remove the rigid organ from inside her and stop the rubbing against her now oversensitive little man. She had started it all and was not going to escape. Matthew felt the burst of semen leaving him -- how he felt it! His penis firing freely into the girl, his 'man-milk' -- the product of his body -- pouring out into her.

"Where have you been?" asked Sarah looking really rather quizzical. Did she perhaps suspect something? But she could not, there was no way she could suspect. Matthew had checked for lipstick.

He was not good at lying. Honesty was the best policy. "A quickie with Morgan in the cupboard."

"Oh, that's all right then. I'd wondered where you were." A pause, "You fool!" Matthew grinned and walked off to get another drink and chat with his host. Behind him he heard Sarah say to herself, "as if!"

Matthew smiled. Honesty had paid off!

He wondered if Sarah would want to fuck when they got home. He could probably cope but he'd take a shower first, as soon as he got in -- he would not want Sarah to catch a hint of Morgan's young scent if Sarah chose to suck him, as she so readily did. It was a lovely scent, in his completely honest opinion, but he hardly wanted a 'scene.' One thing to have dealt with lipstick, but a young girl's scent was a little more lingering. He would go straight to the shower. Strip there and rub his body well with soap. Matthew smiled to himself. Perhaps he might have opportunity to soap Morgan one day in the shower. Building up a real lather would be good.

Sarah's 'as if' rather better than a more detailed enquiry, 'You really fucked? I can't believe it. And what else have you been doing? Not that dark haired girl, surely?'

Well, yes!

No, definitely best that Sarah did not know.

Matthew did not see much more of the girls at the party. Not impossible to imagine one of them sidling up to him later on and asking if he was 'up for it' again. What he did hear from Morgan rather later was, as she went past him, a whisper, "it's running down my legs;" and it was. He watched Morgan walking away and he could see it. Not overly noticeable but there was certainly a trickle of 'something' appearing down her legs under her slinky dress.