An Indecent Invitation Pt. 12

It had been a long day. The boat trip out to the beach and the return, to say nothing of what happened on that lovely, secluded beach.

"We must, Oliver, simply must, go there again," exclaimed Trish as they came back into the villa.

"We're running out of days, Trish. You'll have to visit again," Oliver smiled, "I'd certainly like that. This evening, I thought we'd go to a little restaurant I know down by the water. Do you girls want a little lie down first? I know I do!"

All went to bed to have a snooze, a nap, a bit of an unwind. There was no 'hanky-panky' -- there had been more than enough of that on the beach.

Oliver and his companions walked through the little village, leaving the car in the car park, down past brightly lit restaurants and still open shops to the quay-side. Turning right they made their way past another restaurant to the one right at the end by a cliff rising up above them. They were shown to a table, and it was one right down by the water. The sea mere inches from them, admittedly not the harbour as such, but gently lapping water across sand. Safely shallow beyond the unfenced edge of the concrete. Delightful to sit there as the waiter brought cool white wine and poured it for them, leaving the bottle with napkin in an ice bucket on the white tablecloth.

Across the harbour, little boats rocked gently and there was the sound of the clinking rigging and other boat-like noises along with the chatter from other guests at the restaurant.

"This is perfect, Oliver," said Trish, "absolutely perfect. A perfect beach today and now... a toast to you." And all the girls chinked their glasses and drank. They were delighted with their holiday. Just sitting there in thin dresses out in the open air, the warm, comfortable open air. So, so different from mere days ago in the Rose and Crown and 'Gusto Da Gianni' however cosy both establishments might be -- inside.

Were envious glances made in the direction of Oliver and the girls from other tables? Were other diners wondering who they all were? Who was this mature, greying, bespectacled man to be at a table with all those girls? Surely, they were not his daughters? What lovely legs they had, poking out of their cotton dresses; what fine bosoms, particularly that fair-haired, well-built girl; how happy and gay they all seemed to be. Were they granddaughters? Surely, they could not be employees of the man was treating to dinner, still less, clients. A puzzle and one unlikely to be solved by mere observation. Did anyone suspect the truth?

Mandy awoke the morning after their so delightful evening at the restaurant by the water, she stretched and looked beside her. Lisa was still fast asleep. Rising, she made her way to the kitchen. A pot of tea was already made. Somebody was already up. It was Oliver, sitting by the pool. Good to sit with him and just chat alone. Two naked people there in the morning light. Rather nice, really, that they had become 'comfortable' being naked together. Something of a naturist holiday, in a way, though it was all rather sexual. So warm that there was no need for clothing and it was more comfortable, really, to be completely without than wear just shorts or a little skirt, and a blouse or tee shirt. Certainly, more comfortable not needing to wear a bra under the top. No bra, no shirt, just Molly's naked boobies there. Oliver no less naked, his particularly male attribute lolling on one thigh. His left, as it happened.

Molly wondered if she should do anything about it? She was sure if Phoebe had been up first then she would have 'snaffled' it before anyone else got a look in. But would she not be as selfish if she did the same? Should she engage in erotic conversation and make Oliver erect that way. Nice to see it happening -- quite fascinating. It did grow so much!

Her approach a little unusual. Certainly, what men fantasise about. Rather what men think should happen as a matter of course. What men like to imagine should happen on arrival at the office or other workplace in the morning. The prettiest girl just getting down on her knees before them, extracting the penis and sucking it, making it hard in their mouths, swirling their tongues and making the men come. The morning's semen extraction setting them up for the day -- or at least until the afternoon...

Molly simply put her cup down, knelt between Oliver's legs and reached forward with hand to lift up his penis from his thigh, peel it, swallow the hot tea and just pop the whole organ straight into her unusually hot mouth and give it a little suck and swirl. Naturally, it expanded and lengthened straight away. The penis erecting in her mouth. Just what men like. Would it be so very difficult for the pretty girls in the office to do that for the men: the lovely Stephanie in the front office at the MOT workshop; the MD's secretary in her high heels and short dress (and black tights); or the apprentice engineer at the factory, surprisingly attractive, surprisingly female, surprisingly sexy in her blue boiler suit? Would it be so hard to make the men hard?

It was nice -- nice for Molly and undoubtedly nice for Oliver. Languid runs of lips and tongue up and down the seated man's shaft. Molly practising, Molly learning to suck cock without the aid of a textbook, Molly learning the natural way -- by feel.

"Is that just for you Molly, or can another girl share?" Lisa had come out and was standing looking.

Molly raised her head, tongue going across her lips, "Of course you can, Lisa, shall I get you some tea?"

"No, let me," insisted Oliver, rising. A little surprising given Lisa's offer but Oliver was rather gentlemanly and polite.

The girls watched him walking across the tiling by the pool towards the kitchen.

"You know, Molly, I think men do look good like that."

"All naked?"

"Oliver does have a tight bum, doesn't he, but I meant... you know what I meant... when they are all stiff like that. It's so... well, Oliver's does stand well, doesn't it? Horn like, up in the air. Rampant -- is that a good word?"

"You saying, Lisa, it'd be good to have more men here, more Olivers? One each, two each? Just you and me and four stiff, tight bottomed men so we could compare their cocks. A selection of different ones."

"I've only experienced two," said Lisa, "how many have you, Molly?"

"Oh, I..." she did not want to admit Oliver's was her first or give the impression she was a bit of a sleep around girl, like Phoebe seemed to like to project. "Three, um, perhaps four if you count..." she was making it up. "They do vary so much. Thick and thin. Long and short. Curved or straight. Um, big headed or... most men are big headed!" Easy to stop on a joke.

They watched Oliver walking back towards them. He was still stiff, still 'rampant', his cock pointing at them.

"Do you think," said Lisa, sitting down beside Molly, "he'll hand me my cup of tea or his cock first?"

"I think, Lisa, he'll walk straight at you and push his cock straight into your mouth, before putting the cup and saucer on the table, but perhaps only if your mouth is open!"

No doubt, something men dream of, just walking up to a pretty girl and popping their cocks into mouths, especially so if already hard. Oliver took Lisa's half opened mouth and her leaning forward as a big hint. It was meant as such.

Oliver did not quite just walk up to Lisa and push his knob into her mouth. He paused before her, cup and saucer in hand and cock very much sticking out towards her. "Which would you like first, Lisa?"

Such a smile on his face. It was all so free and easy there at the villa. It could have been all rather stiff and uncomfortable - not Oliver's cock, that was certainly stiff, but unlikely to have been at all uncomfortable. Rather the whole holiday could have been awkward and strained. The girls could have been reluctant to engage in sex, seeking to avoid and only performing under obligation. They had made an agreement but despite the sun and cool white wine they might well not have been as ready to jump into bed as he would have liked or proved the case; indeed, might have rather avoided Oliver except when courtesy demanded communication or they needed to 'pay' for their board and lodging. On the contrary they had found him delightful company, the whole experience so free and easy, so very enjoyable -- sex included. They did not want to go home!

"Choices, choices," replied Lisa, "I think I'll take cock first."

Molly smiled, watching her friend fellate her other newer, but older friend. Lisa still looked as pretty as she always did, even with that big fleshy 'cigar' in her mouth. Molly wondered what she, herself, looked like with Oliver's penis in her mouth. Could she arrange to suck Oliver whilst in a bathroom or somewhere with a big mirror so she could watch herself? Should the girls take portrait shots of each other with Oliver big in their mouths. Unusual holiday photographs. Taking several shots to get a good portrait of each. A memento of the holiday. Perhaps just to giggle about amongst themselves.

Oliver sat back in his chair and picked up his tea.

"Was that nice, Oliver?"

A chuckle over the tea cup, "Just a bit, Molly, it's such a pleasure having your cock sucked by two lovely young ladies first thing in the morning. A nice cup of tea and a nice suck. You can see how much I like it." Oliver spread his legs and waved in the direction of his erection. A mature man sitting there with grey hair curling on his chest and his penis so very up -- as it rather would be with two naked young women sitting with him. But the delightful incongruity of having a cup and saucer in hand. A pity, really that Trish or Phoebe did not happen to come out with a camera. It would have been a strangely erotic but odd photograph.

"We can see, Oliver. What other pleasures have you in mind, having got the four of us here?"

"Almost a surfeit of sex," he smiled, "but not quite."

"I wonder how many more times we can make you cum?"

"That'd be a challenge -- for both you and me!"

"What else would you like us to do?"

"If I had a choice..."

"Well, you do don't you -- if it is not too... unusual."

"I wonder what I meant by that?" mused Oliver.

The arrival of Trish and then Phoebe ended that conversation for a time as Oliver jumped up to get his two guests tea. So gentlemanly, even if his very much sticking out and up penis was 'gentlemanly' in a different way. As was becoming rather the norm, on Oliver's return Phoebe and then Trish casually fondled and stroked Oliver's erection and his hanging, swinging balls. Not pausing in their talk but just sliding their fingers around and under as if it was just a normal thing to pleasure your male host, play with his cock and keep him hard.

Certainly, again, easy to imagine that is just what men like. Two, three, four couples perhaps sharing a holiday together, sharing a cottage or villa. The men rather enjoying being without clothes; perhaps the women don't so much, as they wish to show the pretty dresses, capri pants or blouses they have brought with them -- different outfits on different days or even changes during the day. Naked men and clothed women. One of those fetish, kinky genres -- perhaps coming within the description, 'nothing too unusual'.

Enjoyable for the men to find the women, all four of them, almost continuously playing with their penises. The women's hands moving from one to another freely. Enjoying sliding the loose skin on the stiff organs; revealing and hiding shiny knobs; squeezing, stroking, fondling; playing with loosely hanging or tightly held balls - rolling their 'marbles'; perhaps slicking off a drip of clear fluid dripping from leaky ends and savouring the sweet taste. Lots to play with, lots to enjoy with your friends and perhaps bursts of giggles when one of them -- a penis -'goes off' unexpectedly as they can do. Certainly, pleasing to have your men folk parading around all stiff; perhaps serving drinks; and if you fancy a holiday fuck, well there are four to choose from!

It was like that with the girls. They kept Oliver stiff even as they got the breakfast things ready. Trish put the cafetière of coffee on the table.

"Shall we have a little suck whilst the coffee is brewing."

"Oh yes," said Phoebe straight down on her knees.

Trish looked a little cross. It had been her suggestion.

"Actually, we've already," said Lisa, "but I don't mind if I do... again."

None of the girls 'minded', indeed it rather seemed they 'liked'. Just what men like certainly. Something they generally wished happened more often! No doubt it was so what Oliver had envisioned, or just hoped for, about the holiday. The four girls one after the other getting down on their knees and sucking his swollen and, by now, leaky knob. Phoebe first, then Trish, then Lisa and lastly Molly.

The girls then settled down around the table and began choosing this and that for their breakfast. Molly poured muesli into her bowl, added milk and then various fruits -- sliced pineapple, plentiful cubed melon and some juicy blueberries.

"Yoghurt?" asked Lisa. It was thick and creamy in a bowl, but all at once Molly had another of her ideas. Another idea to get one up on Phoebe and keep the initiative and maintain her position with the group. Oliver was just returning to the table, bearing a plate of croissants freshly warmed in the oven, his penis still stiff from the repeated fondlings, rubbing and sucking it had received. As Oliver put the plate down, Molly reached, drawing it and Oliver towards her. Not just towards her but to her bowl of fruit and muesli, and not just to it but so its head and, importantly, its little slit was over the bowl. She began moving the foreskin to and fro, as had been done earlier but now not merely to stimulate but to over stimulate. Molly had an end result in mind.

"Molly, you're not going to... not really...? Phoebe's amazement at her actions clear as anything. Just so what Molly wanted.

Molly most certainly was. Was the action a bit 'unusual', not perhaps what Oliver had expected -- but she did not think he would mind. She certainly had everyone's attention. Trish's spoon raised but going no further; Lisa paused in the act of drinking coffee and Phoebe sitting there open mouthed. Oliver was rather above her so Molly did not see his face. Was it one of surprise or delight -- or both?

Molly wanked. Her free hand came up to massage Oliver's balls, knowing he liked that, hoping it might encourage a particularly generous production. She was not disappointed. Out it came, not as rich and creamy as the yoghurt but rather more ready to run and coat the fruit. Dollops of semen dropping down over pineapple, melon and blueberries. Spurting freely out of Oliver's knob end onto the breakfast as Molly directed it. When the hot spurting ceased, she tapped the penis on the edge of the bowl, drawing it backwards so the lip scraped off the last of the cum.

Dropping the penis, Molly picked up her spoon and went straight for the semen coated fruit. Up into the bowl of the spoon and on into her mouth.

"Mmmmm, still warm," she said. "Unusually salty with the fruit. It so works!"

"Man milk," breathed Phoebe. "That was so... Molly, you've quite taken my breath away -and you've used it all up, you naughty, greedy girl. Oliver come here!"

Phoebe's hand had quite clearly disappeared between her legs. As Oliver walked around the table, she reached and pulled him to her -- or more accurately his penis to her mouth. No doubt to see if she could suck any more of his 'milk' from him. Her sucking was enthusiastic. She was not letting the cock go. Her mouth was clamped on and all could hear the sound of her fingers sploshing away between her thighs. Clear Phoebe was quite carried away. It was a bit of an unexpected exhibition at the breakfast table. Not quite what you expect over your cereal, croissants and toast!

When she released Oliver, his penis had shrunk right down -- and was completely devoid of any hint of semen -- and Phoebe was gasping. "I've never, ever come so quickly. That just got to me! I... Molly, that was just so sexy. I have to hand it to you... tomorrow... oh dear. The trouble is, poor Oliver only has so much. We need more men."

Lisa giggled, "four naked waiters..."

"No," added Trish," give them little cloths over their penises, belted around their waists that you have to lift. That would be so..."

"Mmmm, they ask 'Cream or Cum, madam?" said Lisa.

"What would it be," asked Phoebe, "do you do the wanking or the waiters? Is it like Gianni with his pepper grinder asking 'Pepper, ladies?'. I mean he always rather thrusts it forward, doesn't he? So oversize. Would he, or rather our young waiters ask 'fresh cum, ladies'?"

"Enough, more? You'd get it all either way. Our young waiters couldn't hold it back. Not a matter of turning the pepper grinder another revolution, eh?"

"I'd like the 'more', Trish," replied Phoebe, "hot and creamy. What a sight. Four young waiters with big -- let's make 'em big. Why not. Plenty of 'man milk' -- please!"

Oliver just sat down and filled his bowl. His smile, though, said everything. He was clearly so delighted with what had just occurred and just how the holiday was going. He was more than happy to hear the girls talk. And on it went. The talk over breakfast about how, surely, it would be better to have four mature men to one girl there rather than just Oliver. Phoebe jumping in very positively and asking Oliver,

"Have you a set of nice friends who'd like to just whisk me away to a tropical island and..."

Oliver replied saying he was not quite sure if he had. He had nice friends, but whether they would go down well with the girls or, moreover, whether he would quite like to share Phoebe with them -- not that he had anything against Phoebe, but he was not sure about the sharing. All those other cocks... Oliver clearly was not a cock person. He liked the ladies -- particularly the young ones! Perhaps he just did not like to share.

Molly did wonder if she had been rather greedy, just as Phoebe had suggested. Was it that she had monopolised Oliver just like she had earlier criticised Phoebe for, in her head. Quite sure Phoebe would have 'snaffled' Oliver before any of the other girls had got a look in, if Phoebe had been up first. Molly had rather done that, a little brazenly in front of everyone, only her excuse was she had done something 'different', something that had seemingly impressed the others and got a 'thumbs up'. Perhaps only a bit selfish then.

With Oliver's penis temporarily out of action, pending reloading and with the girls not, actually, into girl-on-girl sex, other than at Oliver's request, sexual activity was not an immediate prospect for the morning. What ensued was a trip out in the hire car to some Roman ruins, wandering around admiring mosaics and seeing just what the Romans had built there as all over their empire, followed by a cooling drink in a café and then on to a village for a spot of lunch. The party returned to the villa mid-afternoon.

Nothing untoward -- at first. Indeed, they all saw the return as an opportunity for a siesta. For almost an hour there was silence in the villa, before gradually its occupants reappeared from the bedrooms. It was Oliver's suggestion that followed, rather than the girls', though he was certainly inspired by their actions.

Trish clearly wished to sunbathe and was applying sun oil to her skin from a plastic, squeezable bottle. She asked Lisa to help. Oliver could hear her reading the label, "This looks good, Trish, um, 'enriched with coconut oil that naturally nourishes your skin'. She read on, 'this moisturising sun oil helps keep skin feeling soft, smooth and hydrated whilst out in the sun.' Oh, let me, I'll help."

Oliver lay there watching the girls. The scent of the coconut wafted over as he watched Lisa's fingers upon Trish's body. It was slim, almost athletic but more rounded in the right places than Phoebe. Good to see Lisa applying the oil to Trish's long neck, easy enough given her short, wavy hair. Better, though, seeing Lisa's fingers on Trish's breasts and especially her bottom and neat, shaven sex. It had a predictable effect on him. Not difficult for him to imagine those hands applying oil to his now erect penis -- a slippery, stroking sort of action. Oliver watched on as Trish did much the same, in return, to Lisa. Her slender fingers working across Lisa's ample body (not too ample but she was certainly pleasingly fleshy). Trish's slim fingers, with her green nail polish (matching her eyes), working across Lisa's arms and legs, plentiful breasts and male-cushioning thighs.

"Don't forget Lisa's curls, Trish." Oliver was standing now. Standing in more ways than one. He had got up off his lounger and had come towards them. Naked, there was no hiding his strong erection, as yet unoiled. It was pointing towards them. No hiding -- and he was certainly not trying to hide it at all. More presenting it, very much showing it to the two girls. Trish obliged him, squeezing plentiful oil right into Lisa's fair triangle of curls and starting to massage the oil in. It was an intensely sexual sight, at least for Oliver. The more so when Lisa smiled at him and slowly opened her legs. The curls went right on underneath, all around her opened pussy lips. No real need for sun oil between her legs, unless Lisa was planning on lying back with open legs to sun bathe -- perhaps she was, but it looked more like a sexual invitation to the only man present. Trish, not missing her cue, obliged Oliver by slipping her fingers not only along Lisa's outer lips and inner thighs but touching her just so intimately. She could see Oliver's penis twitching, clearly at the idea of slipping into Lisa's no doubt hot little channel. The two girls rather putting on a show for their host.

"I seem to have missed something," Phoebe's voice as she came out of the villa, "can we all play?"

"Oh, please!" Oliver clearly delighted.

"I was just oiling Lisa," explained Trish.

"Is that what we call it?"

Oliver now treated not just to Trish oiling Phoebe as well, but Lisa also oiling the new girl. Two working to oil the one girl. With Phoebe's slim, almost boyish look, together with her dark hair cut short and her little breasts, it almost appeared as if the two girls, Trish and Lisa -- and they were very clearly girls at that -- were oiling up a boy; perhaps, given her shaven lack of pubic hair, quite a young lad. It might have seemed that way if it was not for the lack of penis and Phoebe's pleasingly large, and not boy-like, nipples and areolae.

Perhaps a pity there was not a young lad there. Perhaps on a gap year between school and university, travelling the world and by invitation dropping in to see his dad's friend, Oliver, on the way and finding his visit to the mature man more than rewarding -- what with no less than four young women happy to please him. Perhaps they had shaved his genitalia earlier -- perhaps a giggling, fun game for a group of girls to do. A shared fun task, especially because the lad's penis would just so get in the way! No doubt they would find a second penis very helpful!

But Phoebe was not a boy and not on a gap year. For Oliver, it was so good seeing Trish and Lisa oiling the girl all over. Molly too was just in time to join the party. Coming out, blinking at the light, into the sunshine she found she was last up from her nap. Things were happening. It was clear to her she should go over to her friends and be oiled. Clear too that their host was very much enjoying the sight and she should seek to please him. Molly was greeted with oily hands -- six of them -- and they went everywhere.

What a sight for Oliver. How could his cock not contintue to stand and twitch. "Go on, girls," he said, "rub your breasts together."

Lovely to see, firm young breasts, erect nipples, being rubbed by one girl against another. Lisa's almost enveloping breasts against Phoebe's nearly 'not there' breasts. Oliver coming the closer to see just how Phoebe's cherries rubbed against Lisa's. Firm and not at all small teats brushing against each other. Delicate membranes sending shivering messages from nipple to brain in each of the girls. Girls so lucky to have such sensitive nipples. So good to rub nipple to nipple. Molly and Trish's goodly sized breasts doing much the same -- nipple to nipple.

Not difficult to imagine this was one of the things Oliver had rather hoped for back in the Rose and Crown, perhaps it was even more than he had imagined. "Kiss," he said, "really make out -- is that the term?"

Molly and Lisa had 'made out' before, at Oliver's request. Now he was seeking for them all to be sexual together. 'Girl on girl action' -- only not the two but four together. The girls had been expecting that right from the beginning. They had thought Oliver would want to see that. Their oiling had rather worked them up. Pussies were oily and not just from the squeezy bottle. It was not difficult to put arms around each other and kiss. It was even Molly and Phoebe together. Arms around each other, breast to breast and lips going to touch and then push against the other. Molly's soft lips against Phoebe's and then, to Molly's surprise, Phoebe's tongue snaking into her mouth. Unnecessary -- Oliver could not see that. But he could when their lips came a little apart and tongues stayed in each other's mouths. He could see that all right -- squirming pink tongues touching and somewhat writhing together. Was he perhaps wanking at the sight?

Molly ground her pubis against Phoebe's bare mons and then felt the girl's leg push against hers, opening her thighs and allowing a knee to rise upwards. Molly put her hand between Phoebe's thighs and began to play in the hot wetness she found there. It was not long before both had hands and fingers in each other's pussies, fingers even going upwards - inside. Going cock-like into each other's girly hole. Not for the first time, Molly wondered what it would be like to have a penis -- a stiff one, so she could fuck, slide it into Lisa, Trish or Phoebe and copulate. What was it like to inseminate?

Molly did not stay with Phoebe, she turned and embraced Trish. The girls slowly moving around in front of Oliver, swapping around.

"Are you going to join us?" invited Molly.

Oliver was not a girl, but he could join in; have his own skin oiled by rubbing against the others. He was not loath to find himself quickly in their midst, encircled, by four young, naked, oily women rubbing their bodies -- their breasts, bottoms, tummies, hands and legs against him. Hands rubbing oil into him all over. Their bodies doing much the same thing. What couold be a more intriguing sight? A mass of writhing, oily, warm, flesh there in the hot sunshine. What would it have been like to join the group, press in and be absorbed, to feel all that hot, oily flesh on one's skin? Molly, Lisa, Trish, Phoebe and even Oliver rubbing their bodies against your own naked skin.

Rub, rub, rub, slip, slide. Press and kiss. On it all went there by the pool. Eventually it was Phoebe who said it -- asked it.

"Oliver -- please fuck me."

But she and the others had left the request just a little too late.

"Sorry," replied Oliver and, as the bodies which had coalesced into almost a single mass slid apart and the orgy of flesh resolved itself into mere individuals, they could all see the reason for Oliver's apology and regret. The sensuous rubbing, the almost continuous rubbing of warm, oiled flesh against him and his penis, had had a natural effect. Oliver had just come. His penis had freely ejaculated between and on them all. Not doing it in one of their special channels but just doing its special thing within the writhing, without any of them noticing. Well, apart from Oliver, that is! The creamy evidence could be seen not just on the penis and on Oliver's tummy but the stomachs and thighs of all of the girls as well. It had got around a bit! Clearly not just from when the penis had been in the process of spurting but the resultant splashes had been rubbed on and on, shared from one body to the next. It was rather 'everywhere', no girl had not been inseminated, or rather 'on-seminated' -- it had not gone inside. No vagina had received semen.

"Oh," said Phoebe, "Oh! Well, I'm going to sleep with you tonight, Oliver."

Maybe the others would have liked to, but they let Phoebe have her wish. There was always another day.

Well, there was, but it was their last full day before they had to catch their flight home. Just the one. Probably they would not originally have accepted had Oliver suggested the full fortnight, but they were all now wishing there was more time, wishing they had another week of sun, cool white wine... and other things.