An Indecent Invitation Pt. 11

Oliver did reveal to his four guests - there on the beach, his four delightfully naked guests, that he had, indeed, thought of bringing a girl or two to that very beach and swimming ashore and...

"And?" interrupted Phoebe, "would that be to fuck them, Oliver? Did you conceive of having four?"

"No! Two at most, I think. Not having four to fuck. That would be a bit overdoing things..." He looked around him, rather deliberately at the four of them. Did he thing that was 'overdoing things'?

"And you think you are going to do that do you?"

Oliver's glance down at his standing erection rather indicated he thought just that. Certainly, with one of them at least. But given the opportunity... and it was probably there.

"Who are you going to start with," asked Phoebe.

"It's more who Oliver finishes with!" interjected Molly.

"Who gets the prize," giggled Lisa. She was so much more into the sex now. Quite a change from the 'Rose and Crown' and their arrival at the villa.

"Tell me," Oliver just reached out and stroked Lisa's more than generous breasts as he spoke, "what do you girls think about in bed when you are having a little play on your own? Go on, tell me, tell me your little secrets. What naughty thoughts do you have? I am interested. What naughty, perhaps kinky little thoughts do you have? Nice young men, older men perhaps even girls."

"Oliver, really!" exclaimed Molly.

"I really don't know, Molly, do I? What girls think. What you all think. Perhaps you like to imagine Phoebe down under the sheets between your..."

"No!"

"Who is going to start then?" Oliver went on. "Come on Trish, tell us, what do you think about when you have a little play?"

"I sometimes imagine," began Trish, she was game, "it began with a dream, I know - I remember, but it just comes back into my head. I know some women really find semen a bit off putting. See it as an almost unfortunate part of sex. They love the intimacy, the cuddling, yes, the vaginal sex and the stiff penis but they don't really like cum. They'll suck but not swallow. Will spit it out and don't really want it in their mouths in the first place. Takes all sorts but I... I love cum so much!" She smiled around at the group. "I want to eat it, I want to slurp on it, I want to roll it around in my mouth, I want my body decorated in it! Love the idea of it leaking out of my pussy. The thought of it. His sexual juice -- the man's or men. Made in his body. Spewed out by his lust. Right into the secret depths of my body."

"Oh," said Molly, "oh, that was a bit full on, Trish!"

The girl shrugged her shoulders. "Well, you asked, didn't you? Look at how wet I've got just talking about it." Sitting on a rock she opened her legs wide. Oliver certainly looked. Much more than the glance the others gave. Her shaven, so neat pudenda clearly really wet, little droplets could be seen. One appeared to run right out and just disappeared under her. It was not the salt water from swimming -- that was quite clear.

"Well then, you'd better have the 'prize' I think." Oliver had got to his feet, his penis stiff as anything. "May I," he asked.

"Don't give it to her yet, Oliver. Why don't you fuck us each after our story," suggested Phoebe.

They all watched Oliver slip into Trish. Absolutely like a knife into butter. No pushing, no shoving, it just slipped in and disappeared from view.

A little gasp from Trish.

"So good, Trish, so good," Oliver's voice was trembling.

"I hope you say that about all of us Oliver!" said Phoebe.

"I haven't... I haven't finished my story," said Trish, "that's what I like, but I dream and imagine. I dream about the evidence of the fuck. Less about the man but what he's left in there. I dream... I suppose there hasn't been time to shower or wash. I dream or fantasise I'm walking around with a pussy full of cum. But I'm in public places or work." Her hand went to her mouth, "Perhaps the Rose and Crown or Gianni's. The thought of it trailing down my leg. The thought of it being soaked inside my panties - mmmm. Coming into the office like that. Little squelching noises. The thought of me sitting down all squidgy. Going about my day with a pussy full of cum."

Molly made a bit of a face. "Not sure I'd..."

"Kinky, yeah!" exclaimed Phoebe, "love it. Do tell more but, Oliver, you're not to cum. You're just not to cum. No filling Trish's little snatch -- yet. Not until you've fucked me certainly!"

"The other night, I dreamed I'd been fucking, fucking a lot, and I was so full of cum and found myself being interviewed. Why? How had I got there? From bed to interview, but there I was, sitting opposite these three men and on one of those hard bentwood chairs with a wooden seat. And I'd forgotten my panties. Why? And my skirt was so short. When I got up to leave after the interview, I don't know what it was, there was this loud gurgling noise and such a... it looked like I'd tipped a yoghurt pot on the seat! Talk about embarrassed. I looked. They looked. Then as one these men in dark suits got up from behind their desk and all of them had their cocks out and erect. Big, swollen and leaky; you can imagine that, Phoebe. And they asked did I want some more."

"And did you?" asked Phoebe.

"Typical. I woke up. But I expect so!"

A groan from Oliver and he pulled right out of Trish. His cock no doubt looking like Trish's interviewers had -- big, swollen and leaky. Had it almost given Trish 'some more'?

"I can't beat that," said Phoebe, "but I have this thing about being fucked whilst I'm asleep. It's certainly a recurring dream but I do fantasise about it in all sorts of ways too. Yes, Oliver, you can creep in on me anytime! It's an awful thing, really, the idea but, well, it arouses me. Sometimes a whole group of men and boys coming into my bedroom and using me whilst I sleep. But my recurring dream is... I just don't know who the man is... he comes into my bedroom, into my bed and takes me from behind. Always from behind so I can't see him. It's a dream, I don't know how he gets in or why I don't wake immediately. It's not as if I'm a deep sleeper, but there he is, up behind me, penetrating my pussy whilst I'm asleep. And I wake up to it flexing inside me. Oh, the shock. He's inside me. Oh, how it twitches in there. And I can't move. No fighting him off or anything. I'm awake and unable to move as this unknown man just slides his cock in and out of my wet hole. I know he left my pussy full of cum the night before and here he is in there again. I've been woken up from sleep because I'm being fucked. He just opened my legs and has taken me, me waking by being jostled by his thrusts."

"Do you orgasm?"

"Sometimes, Trish. I have woken coming but I'm so wet I sometimes..."

"What do you do?" asked Oliver, "show us."

And Phoebe was so worked up she did. Her fingers going to play with her sex as she would do in the privacy of her bed but showing all there on the sunlit beach.

"I think I'll join you," said Trish. Evident that she had been wanting to do that but it needed someone to almost give permission.

"Why don't all of you young ladies, jill. I'd like to see."

And Molly and Lisa joined in. All of them showing Oliver just how they masturbated. Five people sitting in an almost circle on rocks in a secret little cove under the blue, blue sky with the aquamarine water flowing around and the white sand. Five people masturbating - for Oliver had joined in too. What a sight, what a thing to be doing -- but they were on holiday!

"What about you, Lisa?" asked Phoebe.

Molly frowned, she had lost the initiative to Phoebe -- again. What dream or fantasy should she relate? Hers were not kinky at all compared to Trish and Phoebe. Should she, perhaps, make something up, go a bit wild and outdo Phoebe? Her earlier thoughts about bondage and leather came to her. Should she perhaps say she fantasised, even dreamed about having her bottom fucked. That would out do Phoebe. Now what would Lisa reveal?

Lisa smiled, "I suppose my most frequent erotic dream is not so anonymous. Not always the same man but mostly an old teacher of mine. I don't even think I had a crush on him but he does seem to turn up again and again. I haven't seen him for years -- not for real anyway. I'm not so sure where it is all set. Where I am in the dream. You know how a place feels familiar but is different in dreams. Mostly it's a garden, a beautiful, almost other-worldly garden. He is there and we start to dance. He whirls me around and around. It's all very lovely, us dancing away across the grass or the bandstand or the lake shore. Lovely and then it sort of deepens into a more passionate encounter. His hands not just holding my back or hand but inside my dress and I feel him hard against me."

"Does he undress you? Does he enter you? Do you see it all from your own perspective or do you pan out and see you both dancing?"

"Questions, Phoebe, questions! It's only a dream. I think you are being too precise. It's not all like a film, scripted and carefully thought out. No slow pan out to show the couple, the naked couple dancing, my old teacher with an erection. It all varies but it is a recurring dream. Surreal, yet not that strange. I want to copulate but I don't think that ever quite happens. I don't think he enters me, though I want that. You can imagine in the film, perhaps the lighting going soft and 'setting sun' like, us dancing on, around and around as we copulate; his strong cock inside me, supporting me, holding me off the ground but..." Lisa giggled, "I think he'd need a lighter girl, more like you than me, Phoebe, or else he would need to be a beefier man than I remember!"

"Mmmm, a great bull of a man," said Phoebe, "Mmmm, can I borrow your dream, Lisa. I'd like that."

"I think we all would, Phoebe," laughed Trish. "Can we all come to your garden, Lisa, dance with your beefy, bull like, big, strong men. What shall we wear? Pretty little flowing dresses in chiffon or something? Pastel pink, blue, green and white. A little diaphanous. No knickers! Do we have a string quartet playing? Lovely dancing and then to be whirled off our feet onto their thick, strong erections -- all of us -- and then to dance on. All four of us around and around held by Lisa's beefy men."

"I seem to be left out," remarked Oliver, "do I just watch?"

"I expect we can find you a pretty, petite young thing, Oliver, such a little lass. I wouldn't want you to hurt your back with me or even Phoebe," said Lisa.

"Yes," said Trish, "you can dance as well. Five couples and look, Oliver, you're already up and ready for the dance."

So funny seeing the man get up and pretend to be dancing. His hand encircling the back of his imaginary and petite female partner. Clear he knew how to dance but he did look so funny whirling around on the sand not in formal wear but the strong informality of his 'birthday suit' and sporting a very fine erection -- presumably pleasantly well lodged in his young and small dancing partner.

"And what about you, Molly, what comes into your head?"

Lisa's story had all been very romantic and gentle. It was more in keeping with Molly's dreams and fantasies. She recalled, a few days before they had flown out, that she had dreamt she had met someone on a train. A beautiful stranger. Such a well-dressed man, tall and handsome and they had been holding hands. And that had been substantially it. They had been there on the train as it rattled along, just holding hands the entire time. She had felt a very strong emotional connection to him, though she had no idea who he was or even if he existed outside her head. When she had woken up, she had lain there feeling a sense of loss. She rather missed him. That would not do. She needed to outdo Phoebe.

"You know being here is a sort of dream," Molly said. "Coming out here away from the rain and cold, cosy as the Rose and Crown might be, was very much in my head before we left. Yes, I was fantasising about that, and here we are -- not that I imagined being in a pretty little bay like this without bikinis, though I certainly imagined the blue sky and sea and sand." Molly giggled, "and wondered about the sex." She reached out and held Oliver's erection in her hand. "This is jolly useful. I think we are all very much appreciating it -- and it's not fantasy, it's a real-life flesh and blood cock we can feel, suck and fuck! I think we have all been appreciating it, Oliver! We all like a good suck and fuck."

There were nods all around. Molly was a little amazed at what she had just said. That was not really like her.

"Is this your wet dream, Oliver, to be here in your secret cove with four young, naked ladies and know you are shortly to fuck them all?"

"Am I?"

"I hope so," said Molly, "anyone not want to be fucked? Phoebe?"

"You must be joking! Please -- soon."

"Yes, please," added Trish.

"You've already had a fuck. Just now," said Phoebe.

"I don't mind another one!"

Lisa opened her legs, "In here please, Oliver." In there, amongst the golden curls which were catching the sun. They looked moist -- they were glistening. Lisa now more than happy to be inviting.

Molly was still thinking of what to say. She had started well, comparing the lovely reality of where they were to dreams. Dare she risk a made-up story? She looked from Lisa's more than damp pussy to Oliver's standing erection. Upon its very tip rather more than dampness, a clear drop had oozed out into the sunshine. Pre-cum, not yet the creamy swirls of his proper cum. That would be coming out later. A lovely spurting, oozing of his sexual juice. Sex was so about liquids. Yes -- that was it!

"Well," she began, "the first thing that comes to my mind so often when I fantasise in bed is -- cum. Semen, ejaculate, man goo, spunk, yes cum! It gets me. It excites me. I love cum so much! I want to eat it, I want to slurp on it, I want to roll it around in my mouth and I want my body decorated in it."

She had them. Even Phoebe was looking a little startled. She had their attention, certainly Oliver's rapt attention. Where was this leading to? Could she make up a dream or just go on with what she fantasised about -- if a very OTT version. She more thought of little romances.

"And, oh, I want it leaking out of my pussy, please." She opened her legs as if to demonstrate, though they all knew where that was. Was she borrowing rather too much from Trish's story? She needed to go further than Trish, not let them realise she was just making it up. "I'm very, very, greedy about cum, I really, really want it. When I think about a man fucking me, I instantly get so greedy about wanting his cum in me. The thought of it. His sexual juice. Made in his body. Spewed out by his lust, right into the secret depths of my body. And the fact that it'll come back out of my little hole, the evidence of his fucking. What he left in there. I want to walk around with a pussy full of semen. I like to imagine that in bed as I play in my wet pussy. I like to think of it, his semen, trailing down my leg, soaked inside my panties. The thought of me sitting somewhere serious or going about my day with a pussy full of cum...

It was not a description of a dream but they all seemed ears nonetheless.

"My little interest seeps -- or spurts (a giggle from Molly) into my dreams. What can I tell you. "Unlike Phoebe..." Molly did not want to be like Phoebe! "... more like Lisa it's usually someone I know who comes into my dreams."

"Can it be me!" exclaimed Oliver. How helpful!

"It might be in the future."

"You will tell me. Will describe in detail..."

"You can fuck me now if you like."

Oliver did! Even as Molly went on with her story. Oliver got up from his rock, walked with his stiff penis over to Molly, knelt and pushed it into her -- drop of pre-cum and all. Just like that.

"Comfortable?" she asked and squeezed -- vaginally squeezed. For him to feel but no one else to know. Who should she say turned up in her dreams?

"Sometimes an old friend of my father's. I think, when I was little, I did sort of fancy him."

"Not your father then, Molly, asked Phoebe. You've not dreamt of having sex..."

"Not actually, Phoebe, no I don't think I have," she took it calmly. Had Phoebe asked that to annoy? "A bit of a silver fox, this friend of daddy's. Tall and distinguished. I think I tend to dream of him seducing me at home, my parents' house, only it isn't. You know how it is in dreams. You are in a familiar place only it isn't... Lisa said that, but it is so true." Oops, she was borrowing again from what she had just heard. Not that her father's friend was not real. An none of them had mentioned an older man, though, of course, Oliver there with them was just such a man. Was she 'borrowing' him? "He seduces me. So lovely. A seduction scene in a dream. He's good at it, very persuasive. The naughty old boy, this silver fox. Older than Oliver, of course. I want it to happen. It's an erotic, naughty dream after all. But the stroking, the kissing, the undoing of buttons. The slipping in of hand. I don't think it comes to intercourse. Well, maybe, but the ejaculation is always outside -- outside my vagina..."

"Or mouth," interjected Phoebe.

"Or mouth, yes Phoebe, not that I wouldn't like that, but that doesn't seem to happen. At least when I'm dreaming. What could be nicer than his thick cock in my mouth and pumping out his seed for me to swallow?" She licked her lips. Oliver pumped the harder. "But he comes outside. I always seem to be surprised at the ejaculation, I don't know why, it's not as if I don't know, haven't experienced plenty enough, but always seem surprised at the amount. I think he too is surprised just how much his old cock produces. It keeps coming, pouring, spurting -- ejaculating - all across me spreading out across my tummy, boobs or bottom. I remember sometimes he is surprised when I just scoup it up and feed both of us with it."

Molly thought she had done quite well with that. Certainly, Oliver seemed particularly appreciative. Too appreciative! All at once he pulled out of her and like the 'silver fox' of her imagined recurring dream he ejaculated up her tummy. It was a surprise, like in the dream, but the amount did not measure up to that! Nonetheless, as Oliver's penis slowed to a dribble, the little slit pointing up her body rather closing, Molly scouped. Having describe a bit of a cum fetish she rather had to go through with it. Up to her lips for a slurp and then offering it to Oliver. "Coming into my dream, Oliver?"

He obliged.

"That was naughty, Oliver," scolded Phoebe, "you were meant to fuck Lisa and me too."

"Sorry... later." He was 'losing it' already.

"Aren't you going to share?" Asked Phoebe as Molly made to catch more of Oliver's ejaculate on her finger.

"I wasn't going to..." replied Molly.

Phoebe, though, had other ideas. Had Oliver not been the source of the cum, he would have found it so arousing to see Phoebe licking the remaining cum off Molly's tummy and breast. 'Girl on girl' action with the added spice of real cum. Not mock cum, not pretend cum but real, freshly ejaculated cum.

A good few hours spent on the beach, sitting or lying in the shade, swimming, even building sand castles with their bare hands. Oliver seemed very happy to be watching his 'charges' at play. It was not quite like taking a group of children down to the beach to play. Not at all like that, really. The girls' maturity rather stared him in the face! Delightfully so, there they were on their hands and knees building sandcastles, their bare bottoms and, in Molly and Lisa's case, plentiful peeping out curls; all too, though less so with Phoebe, having fully developed breasts gently swinging as they worked. It was all quite enough to give a man a full erection -- and it did!

"Ah, ha!" called Phoebe, "time to be fucked. Lisa's and my turn I think!"

But Oliver had other ideas. He had, no doubt, been watching his little group of girls closely, and thinking. Perhaps he had been recalling his three in a bed sex with Molly and Lisa, how he had ejaculated in both. Perhaps he thought, having come not that long before - a couple of hours, he might not come too quickly and be able to service not just Phoebe and Trish but Molly and Lisa as well.

"Line up girls, I think I'm going to fuck you all!"

"Are you now, indeed," exclaimed Trish, "no by your leave, then?"

"Yes, of course, if you young ladies wouldn't mind I'd rather like..."

"No, I rather prefer to be told," butted in Phoebe, "by men anyway," she was looking at Molly, "sort of ties in with my dream, my fantasy, I told you about, a group of men and boys coming in to fuck me whilst asleep. I rather like the idea of being told I'm going to be fucked, you know, by an authority figure. Not so sure I'd like it for real, but we're just playing here on the beach -- at sandcastles and... fucking with Oliver."

"I don't think it will be a play fuck," said Trish, "that looks like a real cock to me! A real flesh and blood stiff one. Very nice too, now that I've been asked!"

"Who are you thinking of, apart from Mr Spall here?" asked Lisa.

"Not actually my boss, urgh!" Phoebe made a face. "But that's the sort of idea. A teacher perhaps. Yes, like Mr Brenton, mmmm, very like Mr Brenton."

"Just you, Phoebe, or is he lining up all his girls for a fuck."

"Well, he couldn't really, could he? A whole class of teenage girls, sixth form girls, instructing them to take off their PE things before going into the showers, as we would have had to do -- not with him there, of course. Twenty-five girls all naked lining up and then told to turn around, bend down and clasp their ankles."

"So as not to see your teacher undressing, or to see..."

"His big erection, Trish? Of course, I don't know if it was or is. Unfortunately, I never had any, um, private lessons. Wouldn't I have liked that!"

"Oliver should have invited him along too, for you!"

"Wouldn't that be so weird. I don't know if... yes, yes I'd like that. But it would be just so weird. Back in my schooldays, Trish, lined up and clasping our ankles, we'd all see him between our legs, upside down of course, walking towards us with an upside down stiffie. We would see, after all. Wow!"

"He'd need a big jar of lube if he's going to fuck you all, Phoebe."

"Mmmm, not so sure, just seeing Mr Brenton running around with his whistle in one hand and those white shorts and that... bulge. I was always quite wet during PE. I don't know about the other girls. Well, I did ask my friend, Anne, and she said she was wet too so, all twenty-five might have been all ready to fuck."

"Twenty-five virgins, or at least quite a few," added Oliver, his stiff penis wavering, "all wet and ready to... in gym things. I wonder if they were shorts or little pleated short skirts. Aertex tops..."

"I really don't think," said Molly," that it would be possible for your teacher to fuck twenty-five schoolgirls in a row; I don' t mean just unethical, just wildly impractical; just too many, and I can't see them agreeing to..."

"It's only fantasy, Molly, don't be so straight-laced, pragmatic and spoil-sportish. All I'm saying is I don't mind Oliver telling me what to do sexually."

"Well, line up then girls." Oliver certainly looked the part of the mature PE teacher -- at least he was both fit looking and sporting a stiff erection.

"Ok," said Molly.

"Pardon, young lady?"

"Yes, SIR," said Phoebe quick as a flash.

It was not going to be twenty-five schoolgirls lined up, merely four girls, but ample really for Oliver! Four lovely girls getting into line on the sun-drenched sand; legs apart, bending at their waists, bending away from their 'teacher'; reaching down to clasp their ankles. Their pussies opening, their bottom cracks opening all in the bright sunlight for Oliver alone to see.

"That's better, girls." The teacher now making his inspection. Four pleasingly wet girly holes, not twenty-five which would have been more than a surfeit, but even four was ample. It would have been enough even had Mr Brenton been there too!

Wet holes to be entered and Oliver did just that, easing himself into the first in the line going from right to left -- Phoebe, as it happened. Molly had positioned herself at the other end of the line. She would have been first, had Oliver started that end!

It was good to hold girl hips and just fuck, sliding in and out of Phoebe. Oliver enjoying quite the perfect holiday.

Presumably with a harem, with more than one wife or even concubine, it is important to be scrupulously fair and treat each equally. A difficult thing and probably, therefore, a man should restrict himself to just the one wife. Oliver appeared to be similarly fair, not with his wives or concubines but with his collection of girls. He counted out his strokes. A half dozen in Phoebe and then he extracted himself, simply pulling out on the sixth stroke and moving along the line to push his now wet penis into Lisa. Again, hips clasped. Wider hips and a more generous pair of bottom cheeks to bounce against. Scrupulously fair, but was it not that much better for him -- four rather than the single pussy?

"One, two, three, four," going a little slower, as if rather relishing the particular experience and wanting to prolong, "five, six," and Oliver was out, his hands leaving Lisa's hips to move to the bent over Trish.

"Are you ready, Trish, ready for this?" a bit of stalling on Oliver's part. Rather clear, though nobody commented, that he was finding the experience rather too arousing. There was a need to recover his 'composure' - somewhat the risk of coming too soon.

Trish was ready. "Please," she said, "please, SIR!"

The 'teacher' slowly slipped his girl wet, Lisa wet, erection into Trish, inch by inch as he reached for her hips. A full embedding and then he started to count. The full half dozen and then his penis was out into the sunlight again.

"Thank you, sir," said Trish.

"Don't forget Molly," added Phoebe.

Oliver was not going to forget the fourth mock-schoolgirl. He was hardly likely to forget to fuck a fourth girl in a row. Out went his hands onto Molly's hips, a little pause whilst Oliver commented on just how lovely the beach and sea was -- and the line of four naked bottoms. Not a new experience easing himself into Molly's vagina, any more than it was the other girls, it was unlikely he was going to become bored with that! He dolled out Molly's portion of his copulatory strokes, counting them out again. Done even more slowly.

"... six." And out came Oliver. He stepped backwards, perhaps to admire the bent over young women again. "I don't think your teacher, Phoebe, could have got anywhere near twenty-five. I'm having difficulty with just you four. I almost... in Molly. You wait there girls, don't move, I'm just going to take a little walk."

Oliver did just that, not walking away from their bottoms but past them, walking up the beach so they could see him. A naked man, not in the first flush of youth but not doing too badly for his age. Nothing hidden, of course. His grey hair, his still taut-ish buttocks, his musculature perhaps showing more clearly than with a younger man, walking tall and erect without any stoop, an almost military bearing. Erect indeed, for when he turned and walked back towards them, they could see his particularly male attribute, his fine penis standing erect, wavering a bit and with his scrotum hanging, twin balls -- one lower than the other. The stiff penis shone in the sunlight, all Molly wet.

"Mmmm," said Phoebe, "I'm really enjoying this holiday."

"Yep," said Trish, "even the sex. A bit unusual. Not exactly boy meets girl and they go to bed."

"I didn't really expect. I had reservations but... I've liked it. Am liking it," said Lisa.

"And it keeps coming," added Phoebe.

"Coming towards us," said Molly, "Oliver keeps coming!"

"Ready, girls? I am."

Phoebe first, again. This time not her hips but her breasts clasped in Oliver's hands. Good to ring the changes. Good to hold different things! Might he diddle their little clitties on his third circuit -- if he got that far - reaching under them, just forward of where his penis would enter.

Six strokes apportioned out. On from holding her breasts to Lisa. Much more of a handful or handfuls. Lovely great mounds in his hands as he pumped six of the best in Lisa's vagina.

"Oh dear," Oliver's voice a little strained," you are all so lovely. I do wish I could stay stiff all the time. Well, at least for longer, or get hard again quicker!"

"You do really well, Oliver," got in Molly, "come when you wish. Please?"

"Not in Molly or Trish, Oliver, it's Lisa and my turn! You could go for a dip and then come back. A sort of cold shower!" Phoebe insistent.

The sea was not exactly cold but the girls waited whilst Oliver did just that, just what Phoebe suggested. A short swim but enough to cool his enthusiasm a little. Oliver came out of the sea flaccid but, the girls were pleased to see, he erected again as he walked, dripping from the sea, towards them. Another half dozen each with no ejaculation. This time the girls felt his hand over their mounds, his fingers in their pussies, his finger on the button -- their buttons, all four.

"So good," said Oliver, pulling out of Molly, "I'm going to have to now, do you think... do you mind if I try and come in you all, inseminate you all at one go?" He had done two at once before. Oliver had clearly been thinking.

"I'm sure you'd enjoy it more if you just fuck the one of us. Like me!"

"But not so memorable, Phoebe. Are you all ready? Because I am!"

And he was. Back into Phoebe and a couple more long strokes and then it was all rather frantic. Not a nice gentle fuck, or even a simple energetic one, pleasurably spurting into a tight, hot, wet channel, rather Oliver very much on the move. A sudden withdrawal from Phoebe, a step to the right, a plunge into Lisa for a single thrust and then out and another step right and into Trish, a thrust and Oliver out again and stepping to plunge into Molly's vagina. Luckily his earlier practice meant he was accurate on all four insertions. He stayed in Molly, pumping away, though he gradually slowed.

"Well," said Phoebe, rising, "that was dramatic." Her hand went between her legs and she brought out a finger clearly covered in a swirly, creamy, thick liquid, "No surprise, Oliver, you inseminated me but what is this?" Across Trish's left bottom cheek, a splurge of the same stuff. Phoebe slicked it off with a finger and popped it in her mouth. "Missed!" she said.

Trish, however delved between her legs and brought out a cum-sticky finger. Oliver had come inside her too. Lisa's bum was devoid of semen and when Phoebe and Oliver crouched, they could see a little cum hanging out of her vagina. It seemed the man had done 'the job' there as well.

"Three, Oliver. Not bad. But what about you, Molly?" asked Phoebe.

Again, nothing on Molly's bottom cheeks. Phoebe crouched, bunched her fingers and pushed them into Molly's hole.

"Phoebe! Did I say you could?"

"It's all right, Molly. Look!" Phoebe's fingers had the tell-tale creaminess of spunk upon them. Not a lot but Oliver had managed to fully fuck all four of the girls. Phoebe not only thrust her fingers at Molly but at her mouth. "Go on, Molly, taste. Is that cum?"

Molly was not pleased. Neither at the fingers in her vagina or mouth. Phoebe pushing herself forward again, pushing her fingers again into Molly's vagina and then into her own mouth.

"Yes," she said, "that's Oliver's cum."

Oliver's cock was drooping now. It should have been looking pleased with itself, not a bit sheepish. Oliver certainly was pleased! What a manly thing to do.