Ch 5: Simon has Elizabeth's Gift

Continued from Chapter 4:

Story So Far

Links to Parts 1 to 4:

(All open in new tabs)

**Chapter 1: I'm Setup (With Good Outcome) 4.8k words**

Themes: dead bedroom reignited, female-led set-up, CFNM, denial rules.

A girls' trip away thaws a frozen wife. Her new friend Lara drops her husband's trunks and sucks him as a tease and leaves, then the couple have their first sex in years, followed by a weekend of edging and the first hints of what happened when away.

**Chapter 2: Week One, Hot Water, Rules and Bald 9kw**

Themes: male submission, bondage, orgasm control, rule-setting.

The husband is delivered, strips and is bound by Lara for his first full session: shibari, forced depilation, mutual oral, and an intense showerhead-driven hands-free orgasm. Ends with a spoken contract gifting Lara explicit control, including future partners for Jen and Simon.

**Chapter 3: Week One's Reflections By Jen and Simon 8.3k words**

Themes: exhibitionism, spanking, edging, wife's realisation that another's control is her freedom to explore sex without love.

Jen recounts her holiday awakening, balcony bondage, a stranger watching through binoculars, her first spanking orgasm, while Simon edges her live during the re-telling. Closes with a tender lovemaking night and Lara's public task challenge launching next chapter.

**Ch4: Jen's Search for Boundaries 23k words**

Chapter 4: Jen's Search for Boundaries (and Simon's Nettling 'Treat')

Themes: exhibitionism, escalation, nettle play, anonymous use, wife's growing appetite outpacing husband's awareness.

A public zip-and-button challenge draws strangers into groping Jen, fingering her, and her first blow job, tracked live in texts while Simon is nettled to a HFO, bound, and shown it all by Lara, who begins unravelling her own dark needs from 'poker nights'. Husband and wife reunite to make love, each changed by a morning neither fully witnessed.

Chapter 5: Elizabeth's Virginity Goes to Simon

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Arrival At Lara's

I park two doors down from Lara's, the same spot as last week, same day. Mixtures of excitement and wonder are just as previously. The engine off, I sit to gather myself. The engine ticks as it cools, a small clock counting me in.

This time there are no adventures of Jen's in parallel; she's away on her business trip. Just me at Lara's house. No text except her earlier "Landed. Xx." That's the pattern with work. Definitely didn't take the remote control vibe Lara had her buy last week and that I'd suggested she use. Shame but doesn't mix well with a serious job.

What is the same as last time is the man in the front window of the house two doors down the way. The same one who caught a glimpse of me stripping into the basket a week ago. Here he is again, unmistakably positioned to watch the street activity. Currently me parking. He doesn't even pretend to read a newspaper; the curtain might as well be a proscenium arch; he has the best seat in the house.

From the road Lara's is entered via a path snaking in an S curve. Traced between shrubs. The walk to the yellow door today jolts me differently. Not the warm sun, the birdsong, the ordinary traffic noise; they are the same. A blackbird shouts complaints from the undergrowth as it throws leaf litter around; the street smells of cut grass and someone else's toast. Ordinary as wallpaper, and about to become the backdrop to something that isn't.

Different because a woman unknown to me sits on the bench outside. I'd fuck that. Nice. Love that cleavage. She is relaxed. Lounging. Observing me approach. It takes seconds from the road to in front of her. Quiet confidence? She watches me come to a standstill. Who will speak first?

Dark hair swept up, plain skirt, mid-thigh, bold green. The kind of woman who looks like she's already read the ending. She makes the silence stretch until it complains with a whining like wind through taut wires.

As I'd completed the final three approach steps she gave me a slow, deliberate leg-cross, no ambiguity in it. I see her vulva. Too fleeting to register more than smooth lips pressed closed between thighs. That's better than Basic Instinct! She's got a neat and tidy one. The basket sits on her lap. The silence is fitting. Comfortable. Preparation for the capture of prey. Me!

OK! I'm clearly expected to strip for this stranger. I think I'm stirring below. My pulse tries a few experimental thumps, like a drummer checking new kit.

With a gesture she signals me to spread my feet wider in front of her. Then to signal my movements are sufficient. A third signal, fill the basket; I think the hand flourish was an 'if you please'.

In silence then? Not speaking is now the established protocol.

I undo a shirt button. She breaks it immediately. "Trousers first," she says. It's a soft voice, but managing to be one that implies 'best not to disobey'. Silky. Silk with a razor stitched into the hem. I stop, then start again. This time at my belt, then waist button, fly. Trousers, socks and shoes removed together.

"Oh no no no! Fold neatly, please."

I comply. There's definite exposure. Shirt tails incompletely hide me, a curtain hung an inch too short for its window. "Commando too?" she states, amused. She extends a finger to sweep the shirt tails aside. "Nice, I can work with that."

"The bargain I made with Lara last week. One you've clearly and pleasingly been persuaded about."

"Yes. Lara said you would be, and that I could be too." She uncrosses, recrosses. "But then I normally am. We agreed she would be too. Do you like what you saw?"

"Yes. Do I get to taste too? You might be Elizabeth?"

She laughs. Attractive, amused. "Me? No. I'm Marian. Elizabeth's mentor. A taster might be in your stars if you play your cards right."

Is this flirting or foreplay? It's fun either way. I strip the shirt where I stand, in front of her, on the porch, in view of the street. Behind me a car door thunks, and I feel every window on the road lean in a little.

She watches without further comment. Businesslike, the way Jen described Marian watching her. As I fold the last item into the basket, the man from the window walks past on the pavement. He slows. Stops. I don't see him do it. Marian tells me.

"We've attracted an observer," Marian states. She narrates his voyeurism as she rises, taking the basket in one hand and me by my pride in the other hand, heading indoors. "That's borderline an ethics breach. Involving the public without consent," she adds.

"He watched me arrive and leave last week. I'm fairly sure he saw me fill the basket then too."

"Then we are in the clear and he's being a nosey voyeur." She giggles. Cuter than scary! She looks more scary but cute too!

The basket goes in the cupboard. I am released long enough to stow it. For those few seconds I am a balloon with the string let go, and I find I miss the hand.

When she turns back she has the familiar apple-tree hand straps. I know these. Comfortable and incapacitating. So I'm being restrained by a stranger. One who's flashed me her pussy, given Jen an orgasm by hand, and presided over Jen's first blowjob. Maybe I should say thank you for that.

I hold out both wrists. "Thank you for looking after Jen last week." She loops them, holds one, steps behind me. "A genuine pleasure. Other hand, please." I comply. She clips them together. A pulse of lust flares straight from that click. Whatever happens today, I'm ready to cum in either of them.

"You're looking after me today?"

"Oh no. I'm looking after Elizabeth today." Oh, three of them? I haven't that much stamina. Even in my teens and twenties I doubt I'd have been able to do three on the trot.

She takes me back in hand; fingers curling around my root, a soft, warm grip, thumb tightening opposite. "Let's go," she says, leading off.

"That's a firm grip."

"Like it?"

"Love it."

She turns after the stairs. That surprises me. Not kitchen or garden, not bedroom. "Good. Come on."

"No nettles this week?"

"Ha. She bet that would be the first thing you asked about!"

Marian Readies Simon

Marian pauses in front of a door I haven't been through before. It might have been a home office once.

A filing cabinet still stands in one corner, a webcam on a pocket-sized tripod stands atop, an eye-witness and a silent sentinel. Curtains are drawn to a slit; one hard shaft of sunlight pools on the floorboards, as if the house has opened an eye especially to watch us. Dust glitters in the silvery ray. The air tastes of anticipation and lavender polish, a weights rack politely pretends to be a whole gym.

Her foot clicks on a floor switch. Three spotlights wash-out the blackness and the colour in their enthusiasm. I blink. A black topped padded piano stool sits at the centre of the new bright light-pool.

A circular green baize card table has been shoved aside with its chairs. Two more chairs wait either side of the stool. Like the front row of a very small theatre.

"Safe word please?"

"Oh, I don't have one."

"How deliciously beginner but also worrying. Let's start slowly then. May I have your consent to put you in restraint and run a scene with you, me, Lara and Elizabeth. I intend you get fucked, give and maybe receive oral, won't be permanently marked physically.

"If you consent then feet by the cuffs, please and think of a word that will halt proceedings."

"More restraint, then," I say as I stand feet astride the width of the stool. She traps one ankle; Velcro rips as she repositions it. "Snug? Comfortable?"

"Yes, both." She circles the stool's bulk. "Other foot." The stool sits close behind my knees, its width enough to fill between the cuffs' mandating spacing.

She shackles the second ankle. The Velcro closes shut on the last of my exits. Arms pinioned behind me, I'm a plaything now. Those tits are jiggling nicely. I'm under her control now, completely. I am hard. This is a turn on for sure. I acknowledge to myself. I watch her cross back to the table and return.

She holds a black rubber gag with straps. "Open."

"If I'm to lose the power of speech can I first ask to see your enticingly jiggling breasts please?"

"Since you asked nicely; yes, when I've put this in. 'These girls' can be your first reward. Watch out though because that sort of impudent request will earn you punishments too. Now open."

I do. Two stretchy bands go over my head. Her arms cross to hold the hem of her top, a fluid upward motion and she is topless. She pivots a little to the left and right. "Mmm," I appreciate. She lifts each and sucks the nipples in turn whilst making eye contact.

Then she digs her nails into my inner thigh, a small, exact pain, like a full stop pressed into the sentence of my skin. Moves close. "Naked, helpless man. We will enjoy you. Make me as proud as your wife did." She's still holding eye contact; intense, close eye contact. Those breasts are touching my chest. They're warm. Very polished performance so far. Self-assured, sexy as hell too. Beautifully manicured nails too.

I nod. Wonder what expression I wear? Hopefully excited more than worried!

Another trip to the table, Marian retrieves a small pump. A connection, two squeezes. The sphere inflates. It swells against my tongue; a plum-sized constraint. Then she disconnects. Now every protest is a muffled vowel. My tongue pressed down in my mouth.

This is far more dis-empowered than anything so far. By a mile.

Proper BDSM. I've been trusting, now I'm in deeper. I maybe should have seen the signs. Jen's morning was voluntary but guided to where she could never have gone alone. AHH, I didn't tell her a safe-word, and even if I did, I couldn't use it.

She's done staging me. I stand in a pool of bright, colour-draining light like a specimen under glass.

We look at each other. Me at the four focuses of eyes and nipples. I've a bald cock, older skin, every flaw on display. She's an alluring swell of breast and valley between and she has shown she is knickerless under that skirt. Possibly completely hairless like Lara or a landing strip?

My heart knocks against my ribs. Not yet hammering like someone trying to escape a broom cupboard. A flagpole of an erection out front. I want pussy!

Her breasts are gorgeous. She is more than letting me see them. She's moving so she is show-casing them to me. Exhibitionist!

My eyes follow the nipples. Subtle movements as they settle and start into motion each time she moves. "Since a safe-word won't work now, a rock of your head from side to side then two one second blinks. OK?"

I nod. "Show me." I do. "Yes, just like that. That means we need to pause. Maybe stop."

I nod again. I can't stop following her movements at chest level.

"Excited?" she asks. I can only answer with my eyes and another nod. She takes me in hand, winks then wanks me for half a minute. Long enough for the clenching of muscles to start. "Hmm. You're really hard. Good. This will part lips without a doubt."

Yours? Lara's? Mouth or pussy? One or both? Saliva has already found its way past the gag, a rivulet tracking down my chin.

Whatever this is, I'm the furniture until she says otherwise.

Outside the door, two voices braid together; Lara's, and another woman's, younger, more excited.

I'll learn later that Marian, Jen's guardian last week and my arranger this week, a friend of Lara's, the unashamed owner of those soft Bristols in front of me is the one who first found Elizabeth's fantasy online.

An opportunity spotted, a fantasy about to be enacted with me in the central supporting role.

Marian took Lizzie in tow months back, when "someday" was still hypothetical. Just an imagining then. Marian's task has been to keep the fantasy from staying safely fictional: older man, first time, an edge of restraint. His choices gone. Her choices 'removed', dictated by another she obeys. Lara simply supplied the room, the restraint, and me.

Elizabeth Enters

I can hear them. The door is thin, the voices come through as if a radio was left on in another room. "Your choice. Say I will comply, and I'll open the door. We'll go in. You'll be different when we leave."

"I know."

There's hesitancy in the voice. Intonation that shouts of dissonance.

"It's what I want. My story, my secret fantasy. Young girl, me."

She sounds as if she is coaching herself not explaining to someone else.

"It was easier when it was just a fantasy. Older man. I wrote what I want. Him restrained. Me, I'm..." she hesitates. Restarts, "It's harder now it's real, it's more emotional too. I want it more."

"I know. That's why Marian offered to make it real. Time to commit."

"I am going to do it." I can hear resolve winning through.

"Good girl." A floorboard creaks, a hand finds the handle, and a fleck of spotlight flashes off the shiny moving door handle.

The door swings open wide.

"There. The cock from the last three weeks' pictures awaits you," Lara says. "You are now to go in, to look at it, taste it, use it."

Two women stand on the threshold. One is Lara. The other twenty years younger. An immediate impression of shy and awkward and shades of 'beige'. From brown hair down past shapeless jumper, lighter full-fall skirt, no visible feet. Hair and clothes indistinct.

She nods. Stammers. A flash of panic. Delay. She is frozen to the spot. Her lips move around a word that never makes it out, like a kettle lid lifting and dropping.

Lara is in front. Bright with theatre as she steps in. Marian glances toward the door, about to speak. Lara interrupts, cocks an eyebrow, presumably at Marian's exposed curves, "He asked to see them?"

"Yes."

"That's because I won't show him mine yet."

"Yours are lovely."

"He's curious about my poker night diary."

"Ah, your tattoos. I see."

Elizabeth is still hovering on the threshold. Nervousness personified. She stands exactly on the line where the corridor's dark meets the room's light, as if stepping over it will cost her something; and it will. Something once gone unrecoverable.

"In you come, Lizzie," Marian says softly encouraging. "He's almost exactly as you described wanting."

I'm Scared

Elizabeth continues to hesitate as if the doorway is a portal to a new life. In a way it is; shoulders hunched.

She's glimpsed that there's a naked man within. I see a young woman in layers of shapeless brown cloth, posture as if the hard illumination itself might bruise her.

After stretching seconds Marian adds from within the room, "Lizzie, this is what you said was your dream. It isn't spectator sport." Then to me, "You and I have roles to play. She'll be taught how to participate."

I nod, she proclaims, "I can't."

"Then we stop."

"I don't want to stop."

"What did you say to me when the first pictures arrived?"

She fidgets. "I, I played with my toy."

"And what did you say to me?"

A whispered admission, slowly, reluctantly drawn follows; "I wanted it."

"More Lizzie."

Still whispered, still addressed to the floor not the people. "I want it where my toy teases at sinking in."

"You said 'I want to stand over it, while he's bound and can't stop me sacrificing myself, to feel him invade me, to leak his seed,' didn't you, Elizabeth?"

The use of her full name pulled her to attention. Eyes on Marian. "Yes, Mistress."

Mistress?? Oh! I guess that makes sense with the ask for a safe word.

"That's what you begged me to make today. You asked to be commanded, to be the centre. To lose the choice to lose your innocence.

"You recognise your words, don't you?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Say you will comply."

The words scrape out raw. "I will." Lara leans in. "Lizzie," barely audible, "Say it for you, not for us."

Elizabeth's throat works. "I'm scared."

"I know." Marian soothes. Her voice stays steady, almost kind. "We've had that talk. Lara, you and I. The change will be permanent. You can't know how you will feel afterwards till afterwards. This isn't a mistake; it's part of what you said you wanted to stop pretending wasn't there." A beat. "You can still walk away. If you stay, you own the arithmetic."

Elizabeth nods, moist eye glittering. She enters. Determination shows for a second as Elizabeth steps in. The room accepts her. Elizabeth halts having crossed a symbolic line.

"Well done. I can see that took a lot of courage. You're a brave girl," Lara says. "Are you wet?"

"I don't know." The quickest flick of self-conscious eyes to check if I'm listening. A whispered "I think so."

"Me too." Lara adds conspiratorially, and obviously loud and direct enough to tease me. Giving her reassurance? Marian adds, "And me and just look how hard he is. No doubt about his readiness!"

Lara and Marian look, Elizabeth doesn't, at least not obviously. I just stand where Marian restrained me; gagged, ankles apart, cock stirred despite the absurdity.

I see intrigue punch through embarrassment on her face for half a second before shame slams the lid back down. This is a journey for both of us. If it happens yours will be my first new cunt for over twenty years.

"Elizabeth, you are willing. You will proceed to conclusion." She nods. "No, Lizzie, I need you to look me in the eye and tell me."

Finding resolve, but maybe not much, Elizabeth adjusts her stance. Looks from Marian's eyes to Lara's face, avoids looking at me entirely. "I'm ready, I will comply, Mistress," she whispers, afraid that speaking any louder might steal something away. "Good. Thank you for confirming. Tell me your safe word."

"Peanut, Mistress." A small, domestic word carrying the whole defence around her person if needed.

Marian walks around her, stops behind, gently repositions her hair back behind her shoulders. "Lovely hair. He will like how it will fall nicely on the curve of your breasts."

Elizabeth flushes at the description. She knows she is going to be handled. She's passive.

Under Marian's encouragement, eyes downcast, she takes two more steps. I watch. She does look at me this time, for a full second. Heat rises up her face. Probably her throat too, though the posture and harsh overhead spots make it hard to tell.

"Is this the first naked male you've ever been in the same room with?" Marian asks; a barrister's question. She already knows the answer.

Elizabeth doesn't look up. Eyes glued to the floor. A half-nod serves as answer.

"Come on, girl, closer," Marian says. "He's in restraints, exactly as you described. Look at him."

She looks at my pride. I look at her face. A Plain Jane perhaps but still an aura of attractive youth. Fresh. A peach for an old man.

Loose Layers

Loose layers hang off her like a shroud, hiding her body while revealing of her emotions, uniformly brown in different textures and shades. Heavy cotton floor-length skirt and heavy knit jumper, swallowing a body that seems not quite to know what to do with itself.

That skirt is swaying nicely, shiny wavy hair. Nice, clean, soft, beautiful. There's a woman hiding in there.

Her hands worry at a single silver ring. An 'O' ring she bought herself on a whim, a tiny shackle rotating on the hasp built into the band. The twist of metal a small, private coping mechanism.

The spotlight on me slices through the otherwise dark room to show my rigid shaft and hard shadows. Lara hasn't told me what today's scene is; I'm learning it as I hear it. Fucked! Marian said it and that "to use it" so now I know 'Lizzie' is in line for me, or me for her?

I stand shackled at the ankles, arms pinioned, gag added after. Bare, older than her by a couple of decades at least. Ready to make "his seed in me" both our pleasure.

I'm unflinching in the bright heat of the spotlight, watching her. I've realised in the last ten minutes that I want her, and I like the idea that it's scripted by these women.

Elizabeth glimpses only the outlines of the figure before her, stance revealing, unapologetic forced exposure because shyness has her eyes downcast. Where's the resolve gone?

Marian announces, "Eyes down won't teach you anything." Steering Elizabeth by the elbow, Marian's other hand hovers near the small of Elizabeth's back without touching. Propulsion held in reserve. She now stands in the penumbra of the light.

Square in front of me. Close enough that I should feel the warmth from her skin and something anxious beneath it, anticipation that isn't yet delight but is nonetheless magnetic in its attraction.

Marian states as a fact, "You've not seen a real one before. Look now."

Elizabeth's gaze flicks up, catches my eye. Snaps away as if the sight scalded. A fresh flood of colour rises on her throat. So I'm her first live cock? I guess from Marian's question.

She sneaks another look at my cock. Longer, then jerks her eyes away. Her breath catches anyway. A startled bird inside her ribs.

It strikes me Christ! I'm more than the exhibit, I'm actually a warm dildo! What else am I to be today?

I can't speak. I watch her the way you watch weather through a window. Not experiencing the full force but tracking the sway of the trees, the effects while wondering when the storm will break and what the lightning strikes will be like.

Lara has told me nothing about Elizabeth except that she exists in the overlap between curiosity and terror. Seeing her, I believe it. She looks like someone standing on a pier, toes over the edge, arguing with the air about the safety of diving.

"Look at his penis," Marian says, almost kindly. "It's one of the things you wrote you wanted to see for real, isn't it?"

A peek. Her eyes keep trying to flee to the skirting boards; curiosity has teeth and keeps dragging them back. Moth and flame? I think. I am the flame. You'll be burnt.

A reluctant glance drags upward, then locks. "You've to see it to play with it. That's next. Then what's after that?"

I flex my fingers behind my back. Useless. The spotlight turns sweat to glistening on my skin. She's painfully shy, but she's looking now. Turned a corner? Curiosity without the terror now? I'm painfully hard because Marian engineered it, because the girl's evaporating doubt is its own pornography. I want your touch. I want you too.

Arms Up

Lara cups a hidden swell through the brown layers from behind. Elizabeth flinches but doesn't pull away. Lara pinches lightly through cloth. "Good girl. How many men have you shown these to?"

"None," she whispers.

"Arms up," says Lara. Recognition of the implications is instant for Elizabeth and me. Our eyes meet. Neither of us breaks the connection. Elizabeth complies. It is deliberate. Acceptance of the evolving plot she wrote and is now the leading lady in. No terror there! Lust? She's daring me to watch, daring herself to be still as she's exposed.

Elizabeth holds my gaze and says to Lara, "Show him." Cloth lifts away in one sweep. The motion is fluid. Almost instant. Lara is fast.

Several layers accelerate upward. A blur. Hems pass Elizabeth's ears, then the neckline starts to breach her chin. Chestnut hair spills over bare shoulders, settles on the slope of firm young, heavy-looking breasts, nipples tight, organ stops, skin flushed and pale like a ruddy pink dawn through mist.

She's braless. A reflex triggers hands to cover herself; her crossing arms are slower than Lara. She hides her young juicy tits for a second before Lara pats her hands away.

I see enough to form a longing. Wow, they are fabulous. I'm liking this game. The impression is a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis. Readying for a first taking to the wing.

Marian says, "Brush your hair back. Let him see you."

Lara throws the three layers of anonymity and social invisibility onto Marian's neatly folded top. Elizabeth doesn't fully drop her hands.

"Hands all the way down, Lizzie."

This time she slowly obeys, trembling. Marian whispers in her ear words I don't need to hear; the girl's pupils dilate anyway. Her breasts lift. The nipples carry prominent teats.

"Lizzie, these are the terms of the scene. He'll look at you and me more than you have looked at him." Elizabeth takes a deep breath. It says "Here goes." There is a further shift in her. Her spine is uncurled, now her feet move apart. She shakes her hair. Soft curls fall just short of her twin nipples. Wow. It's surely immoral to lust after such a young and juicy peach. Let alone be bound and gagged before her!

Marian continues to speak, she walks Elizabeth through the consent like a lawyer through a will.

She is slow, explicit, no room to pretend later that none of this was chosen. Elizabeth's stare shifts to my hard-on and back, reconnecting with me deliberately now. All of me below my neck is surveyed. My eyes are roving over her torso. All of it and her face. Lara doesn't interrupt; she watches Elizabeth the way a midwife watches breathing, ready to step in if panic tips into flight. I think she is well past panic, past doubting herself, now it's hunger.

Marian finishes, "Everything we talked about happens today, Lizzie. Do you want that?" Elizabeth nods, steals a glance at Marian's chest, "Yes pleaasse." It's soft, almost inaudible and carries a core of enthusiasm. Marian notices.

Arms Behind Your Back

"Liz, clasp your wrists behind your back."

That sheepish look again but also compliance. "Now stand next to me here." Both stand before me. Marian strokes my bell-end. "Look him in the eyes." She waits, watches Elizabeth comply. Pauses, confirming Elizabeth doesn't look away. "Which one of us has the best boobs, Simon?" They both watch me look from one to the other and back.

They are both magnificent. I look from one to the other again. Marian's are larger, the areolae larger, paler, the teats almost as thick and long. Elizabeth's are younger, holding their own against gravity. Her nipples look rock hard. I use my eyes to indicate Elizabeth. "Hers," says Marian. I nod and shake trying to imply 'both'.

"Lizzie, the first naked man who looks on your bare chest while erect and excited says your breasts are nicer than mine." Elizabeth smiles. "When you ride his face you'll suck on mine. Acknowledge me."

"Yes, Mistress." Ride? OK!

Lizzie stands a little more erect. The hands clasp more tightly and the shoulders raise her mammaries. The nips rise too. Attention! Makes me (try to) smile.

Then, "Now take his cock in your hands. It may stiffen when you do but he is already very firm. They don't all present as beautifully as this."

She hovers. Reaches. Stops. Reaches further, like someone testing bathwater and finding it just bearable on the second attempt. Marian reaches for her, caresses a nipple. Calibration, encouragement. Elizabeth shivers at the touch. Looks to her, smiles. "Go on, it won't bite." Elizabeth finishes the sentence, "but it will spit."

"Yes, but you control that. He'll last longer inside you if you make him fall first. If you do you can stop just at the point where he cums."

Elizabeth asks, "A ruined orgasm?" She looks back at me to see how that possibility is received. Now it's my turn not to make eye contact. Your choice but it will be filed for if the tables are turned.

Marian repeats, "Go on. Touch him. He wants it." Elizabeth checks my expression. Her face says "Do you?" Mine does its best to say "Yes." She adds, "But not so sure about ruined? Don't you want to fuck me for as long as possible?"

I nod. Is that the right way? I shake my head.

"You want me as long as possible but not the ruined O." I nod again. "But you're powerless to dictate so I'll decide."

She's found even more confidence! Didn't see that coming.

She giggles. Wraps her whole hand around me. Her palm is warm and a little damp, a small emboldened animal deciding whether I am safe. Runs it lightly, slowly up, with fingers fluttering touches on the underside of my shaft.

Marian observes, "He likes how you stroke his penis. Find the Chatterley weight in his balls. Touch your tits to his chest. Look directly at him while you handle him."

Hesitantly she moves close. Finally; as slow, hesitant, curious and with movement as elegant as a cat, her hands work together and cup my balls at the same time as still lightly around my shaft. The extra touch to the very exquisite surfaces behind my balls causes an involuntary twitch. She gasps at the leap of flesh in her palm, as if I'd tricked her.

"He jumped," she says. Marian adds, "and his eyes closed, his hips are forwards too."

"Feel his warmth?" asks Lara. "I love holding his balls. They're on loan to me."

Lara's smile isn't approval; it's sharing recognition of 'fact'. For a moment her face loses any script, it's just 'in the moment'. I file it away, to talk about later the way you find coin in a coat to spend later.

Elizabeth looks round at Lara. "On loan?"

"Yes, I abuse them with hot water and nettles. He cums and is spent and makes a mess. You'll see."

Then Elizabeth speaks without being questioned. "Have you fucked him?"

"No."

"No?"

"No, not yet. We have played but there are chapters to still explore. I've had several delightful moments of bliss from his mouth. That's where you'll start if you want to be sure of your own satisfaction."

Lara smooths Elizabeth's hair behind her shoulders, compliments the fall of it against curves Elizabeth is no longer treating like state secrets that must not be revealed. She is fondling my sac. My eyes return to closed. To my surprise "You like that." It's not questioning. "Tied and groped and" tone turns to a lower growl "all the control is mine.

I won't ruin you, not today but I will another day. Today is special in enough ways for me so we will leave that thrill for another time."

I blink. Another day? A shared look with Marian, who is reflecting a look of surprise then an exchange of glance with Lara. Something passes between them that I'm not meant to read, and I read it anyway; surprise first, then something closer to delight at Elizabeth's blooming.

Elizabeth is growing in assurance now as she handles me. Her touch has passed from tentative to delicate. This is actually very nice. A girl, young woman, I correct I wouldn't have ever imagined being 'in flagrante delicto' with, and she is stroking me so exquisitely as well as 'threatening' further eroticism. Bliss!

Marian murmurs things to her I half hear. "Being honest with yourself, feeling his and your own need as both build," something about "... flavour when you taste." It's a hypnotist's patter.

Elizabeth's breathing slows and sharpens at once. "Lizzie, what were the words you used to write about this moment?"

"I wrote cock."

"Go on."

"and prick, staff, arrow, and his thick cream too."

"What did you write about his arrow?"

Elizabeth pulls back to look at the whole of me. Something awoke with that question, as if the memory pierced her, caution crumbling into the dizzy pull of lustful momentum.

Skirt Off

"I wrote 'It finds its quiver in me.'"

"Yes, you did. I'm going to reveal that quiver now. Stand straight."

"Yes, Mistress." The hesitancy has long since disappeared. She's getting hot. Coo. I think horniness and hormones are driving her now.

Elizabeth stands square before me. Lets Marian take the material of her skirt very deliberately in firm grip by each knee.

A short sharp tug. Marian pulls the waistband of Elizabeth's skirt to mid bush. Stops. We all look at Elizabeth's reveal.

Another sharp tug. Another pause. Each tug has its own small ceremony, like a curtain being drawn one notch at a time on a window with something worth seeing behind it. Then to her feet, this isn't rapid; this is two women in play to expose one of them to a man. She does it with polish. One final motion results in total exposure.

Several times Elizabeth visibly stopped herself covering her revealed mons, half turning, hands almost over the triangle then turning back, Marian reacts, swatting them away, to restore her to facing me but Elizabeth has corrected herself first each time. With this final tug she kicks the cloth clear, plants her feet with elbows held behind her back.

Then she widens her stance more. "I wrote his eyes drink me. There you are, Cock, see all of me." A pause. "I think he is?" She looks to Marian for confirmation.

With the shapeless clothes gone: firm young breasts, a tapered waist, soft hair falling nearly to her nipples. She blushes bright red, small stuttering movements betraying the fight against the urge to hide hasn't been totally, finally, completely lost to the excitement of taboos broken, not yet.

Pubic hair is generous around her vulva but not unruly. Contained to a triangle with clear edges. Is that naturally tidy or has she trimmed it? I can't see her labia clearly but I can see the overall impression as she'd stepped out of the puddled clothes. What is clear between neat lips is a large clitoris nestling but unable to hide. It protrudes firm and visible at least a quarter inch. Wow, they are not often that prominent!

Behind her Marian's stance adjusts, her finger appears in Elizabeth's lower lips from behind. Elizabeth reacts slightly, Marian adjusts. "Good." Then to me, "I've got my fingers in her. She is wet for you."

I'm watching them both.

Marian saws back and forth. I can see fingers, half the time. "Oh yes. Thank you, Mistress." The virgin opens her legs more.

A Rubenesque bulge to tummy and hips. This is a wholesome woman. Not a magazine stick insect. Why the shape hiding wear? A morning with her is my fantasies becoming true too.

"On your knees, Lizzie." Elizabeth sinks to her knees. Resurgent panic spreads across Elizabeth's face.

"Are you still looking at that cock?" Elizabeth nods. "You are now going to taste it." Another nod.

Marian smiles. It is not approval, precisely, but confirmation that initiation is proceeding to plan. The girl understands, then, that this is no longer coercion. The push has become her own motion now, forward motion propelled by all the quiet wanting she's held for so long.

The distance from her mouth is almost gone. I still can't move. Both her hands resume their hold. The left around my shaft from where it springs upwards, the right cups my balls.

I imagine she can hear her own pulse in her ears as loudly as mine sounds a drumbeat for me. Her beat will be all of warning and anticipation and fantasies at these first real acts.

Her mouth opens and moves forward. "Capture it." Eyes flick: my cock, my face, my cock, contact, eyes close. She has me, warmth blooms. There was no hesitation to that. Was the look gratitude? Not defiance. Gift? Nice.

Elizabeth opens herself. When I open my eyes there she is with a steady gaze up into my eyes; my cock halfway to filling her mouth. The look has turned to one of cat with prey. Teeth not lips hold me. A grin. She looks supremely confident all of a sudden. A tease, a threat to bite. Amused. Not too skilled though.

Lara touches Elizabeth's shoulder once. Anchor, not command. "That's enough audience from me for your first act," she says, though her eyes are on me not Elizabeth.

To Marian, "She doesn't need two of us measuring her courage now." To Elizabeth, "I'll be downstairs when you're through, call me and we'll get the shower on. You walked in with your eyes open, Lizzie." Lara slips out; the door clicks like a line drawn under a paragraph.

Elizabeth pulls her lips off my hard-on. "Tell me about having your first penis in your mouth," says Marian.

Display

"I'll remember this moment. It was, is so memorable. I want to do it more." She leans forward and takes me again. This time deep until she gags. "Steady, Lizzie. Are you feeling lusty like on our calls when we finger ourselves?"

Elizabeth pulls off. "Yes, Mistress."

"Do you want to make him cum?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Do you want to cum, Lizzie?"

"Ooh yes, very much so, Mistress."

"Stand, then." She does as told. "And as a treat for him, display."

Elizabeth spreads her feet, matching mine. Her hands go behind her head. Elbows drawn back. "That's the first time you've done that with a live audience in the room with you, isn't it?"

"Yes, Mistress."

Marian cups her vulva. "Feel my fingers. Tell us how many are in you."

"None, Mistress." Then immediately, "One." Then "Two." A pause. "Going deeper."

"You're ready. I'll prepare him. In future when he tells you to display you are to obey. Acknowledge this rule."

Elizabeth looks directly at me. I can't isolate one reaction, there are many swirling across her lips, her eyes, her whole posture. Has she just pushed her hips at me? Or is she chasing the hand?

"When he tells me to display I am to obey, Mistress." She's looking at me. Her eyes say something silently. A pleading? First chance I get I'm going to use that command. Does this hint at that 'O' ring?

Warm-up: Oral Fore-Play

What comes next Marian has choreographed without detailing the physics to either of us.

A piano stool behind me; Marian guides me down till my buttocks meet its end. The straps on my wrists are momentarily disconnected. Then I'm laid back till I'm flat on my back. "OK?" she checks. I nod. My cock points up. She clips one wrist strap under the stool. "Lizzie, clip his other wrist."

Elizabeth steps around the stool, takes the momentarily free arm, strokes my palm as she does. Intimate. Intuitive! "Now step over him. Know he is looking at your gape as you do."

Elizabeth plays the motion for deliberate provocation. "You like the sight of me? You're the first to look at me from this angle, this close. I know boys have wanted to look at me. I've always denied them."

"Feet here," the choreographer instructs the student. "One foot either side of his chest. This one forward, it will open you more."

Elizabeth shuffles forward with first my stomach between her thighs. Beyond, behind her is my erection. I watch her approach my face.

Now I can see her labia in detail. Marian comments. "You're right about where he is looking at you, Lizzie. You've no modesty left."

Elizabeth stops as one knee aligns with my elbow, the other my shoulder.

Now bush or not I can see entirely. Trimmed without a doubt. That's a darn fine young pussy. There's no detail left that's not directly in front of me.

I'm staring straight at her vulva, the opening of her vagina, studying the asymmetry of her folds. How the hairs stop as the texture of skin changes from external to internal, smooth, shiny, redder, slick with clear healthy woman's 'honey'.

Parted lips. Outer labia pink, open, inner darker, glistening, smaller. Open too. Entirely nesting within the majora. Most prominent is her clit. That is definitely erect! Big too. It even looks vaguely penis-like in miniature. My chest between her legs has caused her lips to splay without needing to be held. A display exclusively for me.

The flesh radiates dark pink warmth, she's so close I can feel it, the smell is of young aroused woman. Her secretions clear, copious, a thick slick covering. A small dribble is forming. "Now you'll use him, Lizzie. You wrote how you want your first man to give you orgasms. Of how he'll penetrate you. I'm giving you his mouth first. Enjoy."

Elizabeth settles sitting at an angle to me. Vulva against my gag. Not much I can do here!

Marian bends, awkwardly, to kiss her mons. Turns to me, so close. "Do her enthusiastically." Pulls back just enough to deflate the ball and move it past my chin, inert, warm and wet against my neck. A second later a hot wet cunt is pressed to me. My jaw is still adjusting. I flex my chin. She IS wet! And keen! Tangy, salty? Not really a taste.

I can see Marian hold her own breast out towards Elizabeth. "Suck mine till he stops you being able to concentrate."

My sucking pulls inner lips past my lips. Now you know I've got teeth too! And can be as careful with them as you were. As teasingly threatening. Her hips rock. My suck slides over folds till clit is covered. I'm aware of its size, its erect stiffness. This one is bigger than Jen and Lara's.

She tastes different from Jen's normal pussy. A bit like Jen after a bath. Different from Lara too. I work what I'm given with my tongue. A few seconds in she is gasping, "Oh yes. Suck on it, My Cock."

Marian says, "That was quick!" She moves back a little.

Elizabeth holds herself open. Two fingers spread lips. Thighs remain spread wide by my torso. The initiate's movements become humping, breathing becomes strained. Muscles tremor then she gasps while curling shoulders, spine, tummy forward and gasp again, then again. "Oh god,,, hrrrgh, aahahh, so,,, so,,, innntensssse."

A clawed hand grabs my hair. Not gentle. Pressure between lips and lips is doubled. She is forceful, need-driven. Clit rocked against mouth then chin. Does she like the stubble?

Several more seconds then obvious relaxation. A progressive calming, everything less taut. "Oh my god, that is what I've imagined for so long. Toys just don't measure up.

"Mistress, I, Elizabeth am ready."

Gravity Wins

"I'm glad for you. You found a pleasure you sought. This is the start not the end, Lizzie."

Marian moves the two chairs either side. "For your support, put a hand on the back of each. Good. Hold your weight.

"Tell us where is that cock going?"

"In my pussy," she says with an actress' dramatically pitched voice. Her eyes sparkle before they close. "I'm imagining it."

"We have a different word to use, don't we?" A nod. "Go on then."

Now she looks to be transforming. "It's going up my cunt, all of it till it spits cum." There's vehemence to her tone. She looks down at me. Slides her fingers into her folds. The shy one has left the building! This one is a fox!

She mouths a silent "Thank You." Puts a wet silencing finger across my lips. "Shhhhs." Smiles. "Save your words a little longer." Her feet shift position at Marian's silent showing.

Marian motions Elizabeth to bend her knees. Those two chairs are support for her. One steadying on either side. When she's in an aerial pose of suspended, held halfway 'stand to sit', Marian says, "Now hold that pose." The chairs are removed. Their rubber feet squeal once on the boards, and then there is only the sound of her breathing.

I understand the physics and her placement before she does, before Marian articulates it. If she sinks, as she inevitably will, I'm going to enter her for sure.

"Hands, Lizzie." Marian takes both and loosely, quickly binds them behind her back. "I'll release them when he is inside. Right inside. Buried in your warm wet flesh." That will fatigue her quads, and fast. With her hands bound that will be doubly hard to hold.

It's just a matter of time and stamina now. "I'll release your hands when you've totally succumbed. You'll stay above him until I tell you otherwise."

Elizabeth trembles. We study each other's faces. My eyes move to look down my torso. There's air between us but the gap narrows.

The pose is a shallow squat suspended in mid-air, thighs parallel-ish to the floor, knees bent, weight balanced on the balls of her feet.

My cock, rigid still, rude with intent, directed by Marian, nestles almost in her slit without entering. A threat dressed as geometry.

"Hold yourself there," Marian says. "As your muscles ache, you'll sink. Hold while I tell you to."

Elizabeth nods. Continues the struggle that is the mother of the shakes.

The first twenty seconds are mechanics and will, trivial. The next twenty, adrenaline with will losing. Quads must now be burning. Calves joining the chorus of visible vibrations, core braced, like a gymnast holding poses. All tensions. I'm studying her face now, her eyes are closed by effort.

Her face tightens. Sweat pearls at her hairline. Though no longer gagged, I don't answer with anything but breath through my nose and feel the hammer of my pulse under her heat.

My first virgin. Her first man. It can only be seconds away now.

She's a living bridge, I think. Spanning shame and want. When she drops, she lands skewered by me.

"Stay," Marian says softly. Dog command, lover's command, both.

Elizabeth's thighs turn quiver to shake. Not orgasm, exhaustion. The burn. The muscles at the front of her legs step up intensity to a fine dance, the kind you see in greyhound's legs before their prey is running.

Her breath comes in short, sharp, stolen gasps between holds. Every time she sags an inch, the head of my cock kisses her entrance; every time pride hauls her back up, the burn in her legs must redouble.

She is losing this battle of stamina!

It's not one big surrender, I realise, watching her face crumple and reassemble. It's erosion. Wave on rock. Fatigue eating the resistance, the way tide eats chalk cliffs.

She locks eyes with me once. Accidentally. Hunger? Possession? Passion? Shame? Lust! Yes lust now. Definitely with a plea and all braided together. I can see the hunger, for what is inevitable now; dominant.

I could say; It's all right or Don't or Please. I only lie there the willing stake her body is slowly failing to outlast.

Her knees shake harder. Marian guides my tip, voice low, clinical, erotic. "Feel gravity?" Elizabeth nods. "Yes," she hisses. "That's choice leaving through your muscles. Time still to rise, walk out with your maidenhead intact. Or you can stop fighting gravity and let your body finish what your fantasy described."

Elizabeth makes a sound. Nearest to a whimper. A denial, prayer. Her thighs must be screaming. The shakes spread to her shoulders. She slips. I'm firmly engaged. Her inner lips curl around my cock's mushroom head. She readjusts but not clear of me, slips again. Sweat slicks between our skin where we touch: her inner thighs, my torso. Marian's hand isn't needed now. I'm in enough that descent will be true.

Then another inch down. The pressure at her entrance is overcome. She gasps. Pride rallies; quads scream louder. Time for you to give in.

I can see her attempt to hold, but holding is a ledger, and the body keeps the books.

Marian's repositioned hand is light on the small of her back, not pushing, merely there, registers like a verdict. "You're not failing," she murmurs. "You're finally arriving."

The next shudder isn't voluntary. Her legs simply stop taking cheques her will has been writing on overdraft.

Fatigue chews through the last fibres of resistance the way rot finds the heartwood. She sinks, not one dramatic collapse but a slow, unstoppable glide, eyes widening as gravity's effect displaces weakened argument.

Deflowered and Creamed

Heat swallows me inch by rapid remaining inch. A brief pause, resistance. She utters an "arrgghh". Sharp intake. Release. Her hymen!? This is her first time. She scripted this, to be choreographed with herself as victim or as victor? A fantasy no more. She's delightfully tight.

I'm fucking another woman for the first time in my marriage. I thought I'd have to reconcile Jen finding a new man inside her, leaving cum, but I'm the cock in a new cunt. Shocking, put like that. Delightful too.

For one long second the room goes very quiet inside my head. Twenty five years and more, and I hold the thought up to the light like a note I'm not sure is still legal tender; faithful until this Monday morning. Elizabeth moves, her breasts jiggle, and the thought is erased.

Now there is a growl. Marian releases Elizabeth's hands and both whip around to plant palms down on my chest and her hips start to pound a smooth urgent power-filled rhythm. Rising and rocking. My prick is being worked against her insides precisely where lust compels her hips and pelvis to concentrate the search.

"Find what gives you the most pleasure. Watch him, listen to his urgency, try not to increase it until you're satisfied. Rock your hips. You can make the tip pressure your g-spot like your homework with your pink shower dildo."

Elizabeth's fingers relocate and start on her express button. The left first and the second holds her lips apart. The right uses all four fingers, the drumbeat massage across hood, nub, lips, urethral opening. A few passes and her breathing changes to gasps and gulps.

Her hips still rocking but slow to a deep grind without rise. Her soul tells me through half-open eyes that her body forces to close; she is the huntress closing on completion. Perhaps she appreciates my role in her claiming her prize? I guess I'm not registering beyond 'prick' just now.

Marian appears above my head now. When I look at her she indicates I'm still not to speak. She takes a half step forward. I can see up her skirt, see her lips above me. "Taste me and Brian."

They are not just wet but white with strings of creamy mess. Someone's cum, Brian? Or her own frothed cream?

Lips new to me but not someone else. Those pre-used lips' arrival is swift. It's unnegotiable.

She drops over my mouth. She rocks her folds over my face. Pulls back, my nose traces her groove. She gives opportunity to catch a breath on every second pass. Strong taste. Lara, Elizabeth don't taste like this. Is this what Jen will be like to eat after others have used her? It was a prospect Lara introduced. Was that last week?

I'm rising to orgasm. Icebergs, tax returns, how do I convert °F to °C? It's no good. The physical is overwhelming my attempts at distraction.

Not anything I'm in control of. Can't help my proclaiming the intensity with groans swallowed by Marian's flesh. Come on virgin cunt, have my cum. Thrust with all my might, hold raised. Stomach tensed. Christ, I hope she's on the pill! Thrust, "AaRrGGgg." Long strong spurt, thrust, thrust, spurt. I'm actively emptying in the young cunt working me but Elizabeth doesn't slow, she speeds up, an ascent nearing a peak.

"Oh, the Cock's cum. Extra slidey. Fill me. Fill me up. Please."

It's too intense for me but I'm gagged by the demands of Marian's sex. Slumped down now, but still hard. I am having someone else's cum too. Not used to this. Not sure of the taste. Safe word, safe indication useless!

We three are panting, lost in each other. The spotlights shed a harsh light over us like lime-light for a theatre performance, but here without a further audience, but that forgotten webcam on the filing cabinet!

Marian's demands have stolen my view of Elizabeth's face. Elizabeth's thrashing head was tossing her hair every which way almost in silence last I saw; now there are screams and whimpers.

Before I soften I feel her right hand pressing into her midriff accelerate. That might be just the apex of her vulva now. Clit focus? She's flying in a strum too fast to be other than a blur. Head must be back, a gurgled, strangled cry, a breath, a deeper strangled growl, a deeper breath, tension, explosion, collapse.

When it breaks, it breaks completely. The lightning release, then the slow roll of thunder. A long shudder. A hollowed-out flood all at once, her whole weight sagging through me as the room stays out of focus around her. Slowly recovery starts to repair reality one piece at a time. Marian moved away as Elizabeth collapsed and needed the free space.

Breathing deeply, Elizabeth stays draped across me, connected, forehead against my shoulder, smiling, content? Just regaining normal breathing, letting the reality of her first orgasm with a man inside her vagina. Cum slicking her newly conferred status as woman. I can feel her tense her loins. Voluntary or involuntary?

She scripted this, at every crucial moment so far, and hasn't walked away.

She lifts enough to kiss me. Wet, beyond effort, mouth to mouth. "Oh, thank you, Mr Cock, My Cock. Definitely better than chocolate." She giggles.

Liz's Next Orgasm

She drops back to prone on my chest. Heavy dead weight. I wish I could hug her as her reality settles back on earth. Her hips start undulating, her hand I can feel between us is massaging her clit again.

A minute passes. She slows. Calmness wells within her. Head lifts to look at me. She's smiling an idiotic wide look of new womanhood.

Marian's voice seems to come from far away. "There. That was you, written about months ago, happening now. That was you, running out of ways to say no to yourself.

"The virgin walked into this room but walking out you are no longer a virgin." The sentence hangs in the hot air. Its message significant, permanent.

Elizabeth's forehead drops to my shoulder again. Breath is not fully restored to calm and normal. I'm bound and buried inside her first adult choice, feeling her pulse through every slick, clenching inch. Ruin and baptism taste the same, I think, absurdly. Salty.

"I feel you in my belly." She looks down at me, then to Marian. "I felt the pulses and my change of slip. That must be when it spat its venom into me."

"Venom?" asks Marian.

"Yes, the trouser snake! It's spat in me." She giggles. Now you seem like a schoolgirl. I think.

Marian sighs. "Really?"

Elizabeth blushes. "Sorry. Always how I think of men in clothes. Now I have one inside me I've got to find a new picture." She looks at me. "Thank you. That was wonderful. I haven't finished taking from you yet though." This is a different woman from the unsure girl of less than an hour ago!

She struggles to sit up. Her hands walking down my chest to lift her top half. Marian strokes her hair back and then bends to take a breast in her mouth, pulls off straight away. "Now ride your last chapter, have your next by taking oral again.

"Enjoy it from his lips. He's generous although he didn't finish me before you needed extra space and I had to move.

"And you're going to suck my nipples as payback for your two previous and third orgasm."

Elizabeth rises off my softened manhood.

As she pulls away I feel the wet trail of a trickle and then drips up my stomach. Then her cunt is in my face. "Lick me." A demand! No please!? "Yes of course, I'll do my..." It's the first words I've said to her. She cuts me off by taking her pleasures directly from my lips. And I don't need a 'please'.

As she'd zeroed in on me I'd seen my own cum in her pubes, some along her outer lips, plenty coating her inner lips. Guess I'm getting the answer to Lara's question of last week or the week before! Mine and whoever Brian is.

Elizabeth's weight is mostly on her feet. I'm grateful that she doesn't literally sit on my face. But she is fully 'in my face'.

Her urgency builds. I can plot it. At first she positioned her vagina to receive the focus. Are you pushing cum out? I think I can detect changes in consistency and flavour of lubricants.

As that variety slows, Elizabeth moves her stimulation focus to be higher in the valley of bodily delights. Adjusting in jumps till her hips and hands once again demand everything is delivered just to her clitoris and nowhere else. The panting starts.

She dictates the movement of my head and her hips. Circles and pressures evolve. The outward signs grow. Sharper shorter movements, breathing that is less controlled, then muscle tension.

Her in-breath stops to be held. Hips stop moving, pressure against her clit increases and a great "Ooomph" of out-breath announces release. Rapid panting and whimpers match my tongue strokes.

I ease back, tonguing her gently from now. Soothingly, slowing right down. Her grip relaxes but she holds us both still and endures my focus on her tip. Whimpers are small, continuous, mixed with sighs. After maybe a minute she moves backwards. All her weight transferred to sitting on my chest.

I "Oomph", she doesn't move but fingers herself softly. "It really," a long, languid pause to breathe, she looks down, smiles, her hair falls in a cascade onto my face. We are in a confidential place behind this soft curtain, "is the 'Little Death', isn't it!" Fingertips trace my cheek, chin, one lingers on my lips. Intimate. I hope her memory of this moment is long and detailed. Mine will be too.

"Are you ready to release him?"

"No. Well yes."

"And is he allowed to speak now?"

She is rising. "Yes. Mr Cock, thank you for my three orgasms." Now she is standing over me again. The view of her slit, pink, open, clean with a sheen isn't physically different but there are deeper differences for both of us.

I've just fucked that. Don't think 'taken a virginity' is the right expression. I was used 'for self-sacrifice by her' would be more accurate.

"I'd written a fantasy, we followed the bold plot and that was perfectly how I'd have written the details of it if I knew then what they would be."

"Elizabeth meeting you and Marian has been unlike any first meeting I've ever had before! I hope you will write the details so you can revisit in decades ahead."

She steps one leg over me, squats. "Yeah, My Cock 'cos ya got to fuck a virgin." Licks some wetness from my dick. You're realistic about events! Starts releasing me with one ankle. "And yes that's a great idea whilst the details are sharp and fresh. Thanks." Then my wrist comes free. "You want to read it when I've written it? Yes of course you do."

When my hand and foot are free she moves to the other side and starts on those bindings. She continues, "Yes and I'm glad you suggested it. Reflection on questions with weight isn't something I think can be done justice now." That's aware. There's more to her than triviality. The matter-of-fact movements and deeper thoughts give a new perspective to looking at the curves of her body.

"Elizabeth, you've a body that you and I enjoyed today. Don't wrap it in such frumpy clothes OK?"

She studies my expressions as she helps me sit up. I continue, "Lovely breasts, they move provocatively while you're naked."

The shy girl has more presence in the mix and an arm comes across to pinion them. I take her hands and move them to my thighs. "The blood flow needs some stimulation. I don't think I could stand yet. Arms too."

Present!

Marian adds, "Lizzie, you are going to shower together now. Let's get you both into the upstairs ensuite."

"Yes, Mistress."

I'm recovered enough to stand. We transfer to a shower room I know. Watching a naked Elizabeth's hips undulations as we ascend the stairs is another source of a quiet smile. Is she dripping? I can't tell but the gap between her thighs holding my attention. Marian calls out to Lara, who follows us up. Had fun in here with Lara.

When we've all four entered I address Elizabeth. "Lizzie," I say. She starts. Thought calling you Lizzie would have an effect. "Present." The word leaves my mouth before I've finished deciding to say it, and the room turns towards me like sunflowers following the sun's passage.

Marian bursts into laughter. Lara gasps, "Oh." Elizabeth looks flustered. She looks to Marian for clarification. "You heard him. Obey."

She positions her feet. Not slowly from doubt but slowly from careful thoughtfulness, maybe even relished perspective. Then the hands rise, the breasts show off by them selves, fingers laced behind her head, her hips pushed forward.

She is back to blooming. I walk round her. Pause behind. "You were magnificent. A pleasure to meet you, taste you, be your cock."

Completing the circuit, she looks as if she's holding her tongue. I move to stand behind her admiring her skin's youthful tone and curves. "You can speak," I say.

She watches me in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes are sparkling. My fingers move between her legs. "Do you always tell us the number of fingers or only when asked?"

"Always when told to, and you haven't but it's two. I want them deeper, please."

I shift stance. Push into her more firmly. Curl them. Stroke in alternating waves. Her legs open wider; she murmurs, "Nice."

Marian asks, "Lizzie, I know you, your lusty feeling is building again, isn't it?"

"Yes, Mistress. I thought I was satisfied. I was satisfied by cumming. Very. But this stance with a man, a naked man and fingering has me needing again."

"Lizzie?"

"Yes, My Cock."

"I'll have to call you My C or P! No, not P! Have you written any other fantasies? Can we make them a reality too?"

Marian replies, "Tell him, Lizzie." Lara gestures for us to move into the shower, she's set the water; it's a warm cascade.

We move clumsily, joined like this. Then she turns around, still presenting but dislodging my fingers. Rivulets rush down Elizabeth's body, across her chest, into her cleavage down stomach through bush to make a continuous smatter splatter sound on the tiles of the shower-pan.

Lara hands me a sponge with liquid soap foaming. "Soap her body of the exertions of sex. Then she'll do you." I start on her left breast, follow the curve, as I approach the nipple she pushes forward.

"I have one of a threesome, of me with a man and a woman," she says.

Marian encourages, "Keep listing, Lizzie."

"One in a forest clearing with strangers."

I move to soaping her legs, kneeling. She opens them to encourage where to touch. "Are you wanting again?"

"Yes."

Marian interjects, "Simon, give her the sponge, let's watch her soap you."

Elizabeth asks, "Were you told to present to strip, to be bound?"

"I guess, more or less, yes. Marian was waiting outside with the basket. She made it plain she knew the game, she flashed me. That got my attention immediately."

Then she tests. "Will you present when I tell you to, My Cock?"

"Try it and see."

"Simon. Present My Cock." I stand under the water's flow, feet apart, hands clasped behind my back. She soaps me starting with my balls. "Nice," we say in unison. "I feel we are missing out," Lara says to Marian. "So do I," Marian replies.

"OK, you two, let's get you dried. I'll do you, Simon. Liz, go to Marian." Bath towels envelop us both. Steam curls across the mirror and softens the four of us into one warm, blurred shape. All four of us in almost innocent but intimate activity till Elizabeth and I are dry.

"OK, everyone, down to the terrace."

Lara's Fee

Lara leads through the kitchen to sit at the table on the terrace. In the sun. Fully dressed. Marian topless and Elizabeth and I each swathed in a fluffy white towel.

We are in the same bright sunlight that tried to sneak in through the curtains. Out here it is warm enough to cause drowsiness, and the birdsong drops into the quiet like coins into a dish. A jug with iced juice and glasses waits on the table.

Elizabeth turns to me. "My Cock."

"Yes, My C."

"Thank you, Mistress Lara, for hosting this morning and providing him. Cock! Present."

I stand and adopt the stance hands behind back. The towel falls. "Then you too, My C," I say. She copies but with laced fingers behind her head, the towel remains tucked into itself and her cleavage till Marian reaches out. A small tug and it too is crumpled on the floor.

Lara claps. "Oh, this is quite intriguing. I've been alone for what seemed ages. Who gives me oral as my fee?"

"Let My C please you. Having her naked arse winking at Marian and me is an appealing idea."

Marian adds, "Yes that's good but you are going to finish me. I'm in need too."

"Acceptable," Lara replies, and hitches her skirt up. Marian adjusts in preparation for my paying her cunt the attention it still needs.

"Please, Lara, this is another first for me. A fantasy too but I've no experience of giving and only today of receiving. That I liked very much that I didn't study what was happening, just enjoyed."

"You'll learn on the job and I'll coach you too. Now kneel down and get in close."

Elizabeth takes up position to go down on Lara. "You've fleshy lips."

I pull the towels in place to kneel on. Place my fingers on Marian's mound to open her up and bring my mouth back to her lips. So a high landing strip. I'd have liked bald more.

I can hear Lara guiding Elizabeth, lots of "oh yes, just like that," and "Your intuition is good." Then just getting excited by the attention to her that Elizabeth is paying.

Soon both women are moaning then satisfied. Neither moves to cover up. Three cunts! I like this. Only fucked one so far though.

Lara invites Elizabeth up her body till they kiss. "A small token of appreciation. I enjoyed your mouth, Lizzie. I'll repay the effort when opportunity presents. Now let's get you both dressed."

I'm given the basket to dress on the terrace. My eyes remain full of the sights of spread thighs. Some thoughts return to images of the earlier thighs giving out like frayed rope, the moment resistance thinned to transparency and gravity did its honest work and Elizabeth's body consumed me inch by inch.

It's not the fall that breaks you, it's landing. I think, still feeling her ghost around me. The slow fatigue before it. It's when you realise your muscles have chosen for you.

The thoughts harden me within my clothes. I liked this morning. I have yet to share with Jen. Is Elizabeth's threesome something Jen would like? I'll ask.

Maybe to become a common player in our marriage bed?

Mind The Window

Elizabeth is handed a dress by Lara. "From now, no clothes that hide your body and today no underwear either."

A stylishly cut outline in white with blue cornflowers, plain cotton, knee length, buttons from scooped neck to hem. Nothing of it to hide what's within.

Elizabeth holds it at arm's length for a moment, the way you hold something in a shop changing room. Here her doubt is whether it is just a gift or a test. Then she wraps it around, is enveloped into it and does up the buttons from the hem upwards, one by one, while Lara watches every one.

Marian tilts her head at me, the same look she gave me on the porch, only now it is a measuring one. "Interesting," she says to nobody in particular. "You've said 'Present' and she has done each time before she's thought about." Lara says nothing, but one eyebrow lifts a quarter of an inch, which for Lara is applause. Does that ring have some truth? I ponder.

Lara is still sitting when the rest of us stand. She sips her juice, the ice chimes in the glass. Marian pours herself one too, sighs contentedly as if the morning has gone past her and she has not quite caught it all. "Simon," she says, "will you take Lizzie home, please? I'd rather she didn't grace any buses in that dress." Then, lightly, to the table, "Some of us will stay behind and be sensible and scheming."

Marian restores her top, taking her time about it. Closing a chapter. "Text me when she's in. And Simon? Mind next door's windows."

Lara asks, "Oh, has nosey been curtain twitching? I love teasing him."

And here was me wondering when I'm topping whether to give him access to your pussy? I think that's sealed it! How to arrange?

The Neighbour

The path gravel crunches under our shoes as Elizabeth and I leave together. Steps in sync. She takes my hand.

She looks very different in the light elegant summer dress. It's not just the clothes.

The car is where I left it, two doors down, and the house beside it has its curtain drawn back still. Behind the glass stands a pale shape, unmoving and patient, the way a heron stands over a pond. No surprise.

Elizabeth walks next to me. The other hand flat against the front of her new dress, checking the eight buttons are where she left them. Every few paces the breeze finds the hem and lifts it, and each time her hand drops to catch it. She knows what is not under the cotton. So do I.

"Look at the window," I say quietly, "he's there. The same man who watched me arrive." I stop at the passenger door. "Your safe word?"

She breathes out, a long breath, the kind you take before stepping off a diving board. "Here? Now? In the street?"

"Yes. Here, now, in the street. You've a ring on your finger. Does it mean what others will see?"

"It's peanut." Good girl! Perhaps it does!

"He is watching." The words come out of my mouth sounding like somebody else's, somebody patient and certain.

"OK, if I need it it is Peanut," she repeats. "I don't know about the ring. He isn't Sir Stephen, you're not Rene, I'm not O. I wrote a different story line."

I respect that. Let's try half a plot twist. "Give me a single digit number." She looks confused. "Three!? Why?"

"Undo the top and bottom three buttons or use your word."

She looks at me with an expression that is shock melting to excitement through calculation. "Oh hell. You know I'm needing again and that makes me open to opportunity!" It's an accusation.

"I am learning about you, my C," I say.

"Talking of 'her', she has leaked since we left Lara's. I guess that's your seed. You know I do feel as if I'm playing in the big league now since you deflowered me a little over an hour ago. I have gone commando before but never when others knew it, never this wet although that's not all my fault."

"You deflowered you! I was just the helpless pole you used. Safeword or buttons."

She looks over the low garden wall, across the tended flower beds. Sees our watcher. Leans forward to start at the bottom. One button. Reaches for the scooped neck, one button.

Voyeur seems more attentive. Back to the hem. One button. Back to the neck. This button is between her globes. Then the lower edge a final time. The third is above her knees.

"One more to go. He is definitely watching us," she observes.

"Watching you," I correct. "Do the last. Then present, with your back to me." That will mean she will be not quite facing him.

"Oh god, I'm not sure I can do this."

The last is after she places her feet. Slow movements. With intent. Then with care the arms rise and fingers interlock behind her head. "I'm trusting you to..." The elbows come back.

"Shh now, you're safe. On the edge but safe." I interrupt, "Your nipples are too strong to be crushed flat by the dress."

"Yes, I know. Yes, he is looking, I like it, that's why I'm presenting but I'm not far from using my word."

I reach a hand below her hem, fingers find her open lips. "You can do this. Is your pulse thumping in your ears?"

"Yes."

"How many?"

"None."

"How many?"

"One, no, now it is two." She presses back. "Mmmm. This is so so naughty. I need to write this fantasy."

She watches him watch her. Feet apart, chin up, hands laced behind her head, elbows wide. Her eyes fix on the far side of the road as if the brickwork needs her full attention. That the hem is lifted with her arms and mine too is plain to see.

"Could you have done this yesterday?"

"No."

"What will you experience tomorrow?"

Material is snug to her breasts. The open unbuttoned collar shows the pale skin of her cleavage, a pizza slice of flesh that's so inviting showing between swellings. The cotton pulls enough so her bullet nipples need no imagination.

A flush climbs out of the collar and up her throat in a slow stain. She is ashamed and she is lit from inside, and the two are exactly the same colour on her.

"I can feel him looking," she whispers. "Good," I say, and the word frightens me a little, it fits so comfortably.

"He's left the window," she says. The front door opens. "Maybe tomorrow I'd let his fingers where yours are. But I can't do that today, please. Oh god please."

When he appears through the front door he is older than I'd imagined, sixty perhaps, in a cardigan the colour of yesterday's porridge, with a hint of a stoop of a man who has spent years leaning towards small things.

He comes down his path unhurriedly and stops at the gate. Relaxed. Intriguing. He does not look at her breasts or her hem. He looks at her face first. That alone earns him something from me.

"I may be intruding?" he says to me. His voice is dry and careful. Polite! "I have watched that house for a few weeks, and I am aware. I ought to be ashamed of myself. I am, a little. But may I ask whether she is available?" Euphemism!

Elizabeth's hands tighten on the back of her own head. She doesn't lower them. I can see her pulse jumping in the side of her neck. Something I hadn't planned opens in me, cool and level, the calm of a man who decides things.

"Yes," pause, but a short pause, "but not today," I say.

It is half mild sentence, half emotional earthquake. Elizabeth tenses at yes then relaxes. Visibly. I remove my fingers. Turn and open the car door for her, a nod of my head signals to get in.

He hears a polite reply. But Elizabeth hears the other half of it the way a dog hears its name. Her eyes come round to me, wide and bright and stripped of every defence, and I watch the implication sink in. Not today means there is a some day, and that it is mine to give. A small sound escapes her, not a word.

"Another day, then," the man says, and inclines his head to her as though she were a lady at a church door. "Thank you for letting me ask." He goes back along his path, she settles into the front seat. Both doors close. His door closes with the soft courtesy of a man who has been given more than he expected. Hers with relief.

Some Other Day

I walk around and get in.

She turns to me. "Wow, I'm shaking. I thought for a second you were going to let him touch me. I was freaked out. Totally freaked and too turned on. God I couldn't have followed your lead but I so want to have taken him on my terms not his."

"And if I'd said just yes?"

"It was intoxicating and thrilling but I was so close to saying Peanut. Right on the edge. If you can deliver him?"

"And why would I do that instead of enjoying you myself?"

We drive in silence for four more streets. Then, to the windscreen, she says, "Yes, Not today is Some other day." It is not a question, not an answer to my question.

"Another day," I agree. I keep my eyes on the road.

"Thank you. I want him tied too," she says. "Can we do something again. Can I script it again?"

We drive the rest of the way with our own thoughts. When I enter her street she says, "It's been perfect. Today that is."

"I'm glad. Memorable for me too. I have my wife to tell too." I stop, we both get out.

"I want to meet her," she says, offering a hug. I move into embrace. She looks closely at my face. "Thank you. You've changed me. Now present for me."

I laugh, hands behind my back, adjust feet, still. She rubs the front of my trousers. "Do you want me again?"

"Yes."

"Good!" She turns and walks into the building behind her. No backwards glance. Then she is gone. I drive home another twenty minutes.

Simon's Text

Arriving home I have taken the drive time to reflect on a text to Jen. "I'm back home. Had a Marian, Lara and Elizabeth time."

I add; "Elizabeth's not a virgin any more. Still haven't seen Lara's tits! I want to tell you all in person, so when you're back."

I type a third message, read it twice, and send it before I can complicate it, "There was a neighbour too. A polite one. I'll tell you everything when you're home." Then I put the phone face down on the table and realise I am still hearing one key word in my own voice; Yes, (but not today).

No reply comes until bedtime. That's normal. That's what we've settled into on days when Jen's away. It reads "I've only my fingers and imagination. It's enough X Love you."

A text sent, not always a text answered. I don't wait for another one. The house makes familiar settling sounds around me, the large quiet bed is comfortable but empty without Jen's warmth to hold for the night.

Continued in Chapter 6