Your birthday party had been great fun. We’d met some friends in our local. We’d had a good laugh, and maybe drunk a little too much. But hell it was your birthday. I hadn’t known what to get you for the occasion; I wanted it to be something memorable. But what? Clothes? I would choose wrong. Perfume? You had a dressing table full.  Underwear?  To easy.  But what? Then your eyes had lighted onto something in the pub and I knew! I knew what I could give you, that would make you smile, make you happy and that you would treasure.

That was a week ago, work had filled that gap, but finally the weekend had come round again. I had to go out Friday evening and then on Saturday to collect your birthday gift. At first you were annoyed that you were to be alone for Saturday afternoon. But the promise of finally having the birthday present you had moaned I’d not given you on the day, made you forgive me to some degree.

I arrived home soon after six bearing a Chinese takeaway. We sat on the sofa, side by side sharing the contents of the foil dishes and watching some chic flick. I also had brought you a bottle of whiskey, and as the evening passed by, the level dropped. You had never had a head for the amber nectar, but that did not dissuade you from making it your tipple.

As the meal ended, we had headed to bed to finish the DVD. I finally saw that the nectar  I had brought, have its usual effect, and you were asleep.  Now was the time to reveal my gift to you. I crossed to your dressing table and from the bottom drawer removed the Velcro hand cuffs we often used in our games. Bondage had always been your gift to our love making and I knew how much it added you your enjoyment.

I looked down at you asleep on the bed and smiled. You were going to be such a lucky girl. I unzipped your skirt and gently lifting your bottom of the quilt eased it down and past your legs. Then I unfastened your blouse and that to was soon draped over the chair. I knew you had worn stockings for me, as that your standards in underwear would be as high as they ever were. Black boy shorts and a matching bra, all of which needed to be removed. I did however, for my own pleasure leave your hold ups in place.

Then easing you into the centre of the bed, I placed one handcuff round your wrist and fastened it to the bed post. With in five minutes all your limbs were spread apart and fastened to the beds posts. I looked down at my darling girl, her shaven mound, her wonderful sensitive breasts and that mouth made for kissing and sucking. You would so enjoy the next few hours.

I had to leave you for 5 minutes while I went to bring your present in from the car, but the size meant if it was to be a true surprise it would have to be left on the landing until I was ready.

I undressed myself and then sat beside you naked on the bed. You mumbled something in your sleep, a slumber I now had to wake you from. A gentle kiss and then admission of my tongue into your mouth made your eyes flicker awake. The restraints stopped you from sitting up, a realisation that made you smile, and respond to my kisses.

I sat back up and you smiled at me”you spoil your bad little girl” you said falling so eagerly into our role playing. “I do try my sweet whore, but first I have your birthday gift for you” I stood, my semi erection drawing your eyes. “No” I laughed “its something better than that, something you have often fantasised about. Then last weekend you pointed it out in the pub, I could not bring you the item you spotted, but over the week I have found an identical model”. As I said this I crossed to the bedroom door and rested a hand on the door handle. “What is it, please tell me?” you asked the realisation that what ever it was would be sexual and part of our fantasies dawning.

“My darling whore, I have chosen one of your presents with great care and I hope it will offer you one of the best nights of your life” My hand started to turn the handle then I paused. “No, we need a little extra spice” I smiled as I walked to your chest of drawers. From there I removed a silk scarf I had brought you on our first holiday. You looked at the soft fabric and smiled, anticipating the care I had put into this evening.

As I turned the door handle I looked back at my darling, bound spread eagle to our bed, your eyes masked under silk and your legs encased in silk. Your shaven mound and your erect nipples. My own reaction stirred, but tonight was not about me, it was about you, your fantasies and pleasure.

I opened the door and in the entrance stood a young girl. He age unknown but I had selected her , hoping she was in her early twenties. She had long blond hair that hung down to her shoulder blades, eyes that were alive with the offering before her, and the longest legs you could imagine. They to were encased in silk hold ups and her muscles accentuated by impossibly red high heels  Her slim body masked by a tight red dress, that plunged to hint at the breasts they hid.

I held one finger to my lips as I signalled her to silence. I could hear your breathing increase and with it with your anticipation. I could imagine the sensations your pussy held. The wetness that was seeping from between those lips, where shaven flesh awaited its first soft touch.

I took the hand of my gift and led her to the bed, the  sound of silk legs rubbing giving you the first hint of what I had brought for you. I had spent the week seeking someone who was beautiful, bisexual and professional for your first time. The dearest gift I had yet brought you but one I knew would make you such a happy woman.

The gift sat by your side and she smiled own at you, a smile you could not see or imagine through the silk blind fold. Her long red nails ran through your hair, and you lifted your head into the touch. Then she leant down, holding her hair back so the surprise would not be ruined by its soft touch. She ran her tongue along your lips, making them moist and glisten in her touch. Your lips parted at the kiss, and her tongue sank into your warm wet mouth. The kiss was at first gentle and your tongues explored each others touch. Then the power increased and you pressed your mouth into the kiss. I could sense your arousal as I sat at the dressing table, watching the scene before me,

The kiss was broken as she looked down at your breasts. The nipples were erect as her red painted lips made first contact and sucked them in, the blood rushing into the erections and expanding them to their fullest. You groaned as her hand traced soft circles over your shaven mound. I stood and walked unsteadily to stand beside the erotic scene before me. With my hand I stoked my own erection, being gentle so I did not spoil my time. With the other hand I slipped the scarf’s knot free, and eased it of from you. Your eyes blinked open looked at me then it dawned. If I was stood looking at you, who....?

You raised your head and looked down, seeing the blonde hair held back, and the beautiful girl suckling on your breasts. I smiled. “Happy birthday my darling,”.

You had always wanted to sample the pleasures of a same sex love and had spent part of your birthday admiring the long legs of a red dressed blonde at the party. While my gift wasn’t the girl you had seen she was as close as I had managed to find in the cities sex trade.

The gift looked up, and seeing your unmasked eyes, moved her mouth back to yours. Her tongue reached for the tip of yours, which you pushed free from your own lips so you I could watch as they made contact in the space between you. Then you sucked her into your mouth and I saw you flex against the restraints.

The kiss was at first long, and tender. But the passion increased as your pussy was touched by those long nails. Your legs parted in reaction and I saw her fingers seek your lips. You had always moaned they were too big, but even you agreed they were all the more responsive for that. The kiss ended and my gift stood so I could undo her dresses zip. The red material cascaded to the floor, revealing impossibly pert and erect breasts, a slim waist and a neat Brazilian style cut showing her blondness was real.

She smiled own at you then climbed onto the bed, straddling you around the waist, her own wet pussy pressed against your tummy. She dipped a finger between her own legs and then teased it round your lips.  Your lips parted and you sucked the wet finger in, tasting her honey on off her finger. Sampling your first taste of pussy and wondering if you would taste more this night.

The finger was withdrawn and this time dipped into your pool of juices. That was sucked into her mouth and she smiled. “I love the taste of virgin” she smiled down and dipped once more into your pussy.

She leant down and suckled onto each of your nipples, gently biting them and stretching them to their full reach between her teeth, before sucking it into her mouth. I could see the lipstick marks around the nipple she neglected for the moment, as sucked hungrily on the other nipple. She lifted her head to kiss you fully once more.

The kiss was broken as she lifted her pussy clear of your tummy the wetness making a bond with your skin. She raised it over and past your nipples. I could see your eyes fasten on the hair on her mound as the pussy was raised over your mouth. She held it a few inches clear, to afford your eyes their first sight of the wetness, before it was lowered down to with an inch.  Your tongues tip tenderly touched her wet skin and caressed her lips. She lowered her self farther to allow you to suckle on her lips. To suck it into your mouth and to taste the fountain of her nectar.  Your hips started to lift as I sensed the orgasm that this experience was bringing you, one that was not even brought on by touch, but your virginity lost as a bi sexual girl. As you became a true whore and I wondered what would wait when my gift brought her tongue and her toys to your pussy. I wondered how you would respond to your birthday gift and the price I had paid. I had agreed that for this night you would truly become her whore. That you would offer your services, free of charge to both your new lover and her girl friends. A new life awaited you, one you had fantasised about and one that I had brought to you, but one that you would pay the price for. A price I knew you would not mind…..

Warning:

This story is a work of fiction and contains

descriptions of explicit sexual acts between

women.  If this type of

content offends you or you are under the age of 18

do not read it.

Author's Note:

This story is the property of the author. It can be

downloaded for personal reading pleasure or sending

to a friend, but if you wish to re-post them at your

own site, please contact the author for permission.

Copyright 2008 Sept, All Rights Reserved.

The Birthday Gift

Part 2

My birthday had been such a special time. I had received some wonderful gifts, but none had been as sensual as the night I explored my bi sexuality with the whore. My husband had even spiced it up with telling me that I was to be her whore. It had added spice to the evening, and the tale had played its self more than once through my fingers as I lay in my bed. To lie there in the dark, the sound of his gentle breathing, my nightdress hitched up as my fingers explored and replayed that night’s event.

John and Mary were old friends of my husband. He’d known John years and been best man at their wedding. I had always got on with Mary but we’d not been the best of friends. I’d finished work, which on a Friday is always the high point of the working week. We were to meet them at a local club, a private club at which we were to be their guests.

I had treated myself to a short red dress, one very much in likeness to the one worn by my lesbian lover on that night a month ago. I had even laid out to have my hair cut and I felt liked a million pounds.  We were, of course late, well I am a woman and it’s my right to be late getting ready for an evening out.

John and Mary were already sat at the table, located in a corner of the plush dining room. Every table was occupied and we wound our way through the tables towards our friends. They looked up as we walked up to the table. Mary smiled and complimented me on my dress. The boys sat on side of the table and I shuffled around to sit next to Mary.

It hadn’t been a bad evening and we’d eaten well. The conversation had been fun and we had imbibed well. Mary and I had chatted quietly to between ourselves, and the men had done likewise. We were sat there drinking brandies, and quietly talking.  Mary looked across the table and smiling asked what I had been given for my birthday. She wondered if my husband had managed to find that special gift he’d been seeking. I was a bit taken back to think she knew what he’d planned. I sat there feeling my cheeks turn red as she was told that yes the number she’d provided had proved useful.

Mary smiled, said she was pleased she’d been able to help and then she asked to be excused, as she needed the ladies. As she stood, she leant close to me and I heard her whisper that I “looked good enough to eat”, and then she was whispering to my husband. She gave me one more smile and wound her way across to the ladies. John asked if we wanted a “top u” and left for the bar.

“How could you tell her? “I asked my husband. He smiled and said that she had pushed for him to carry the idea through when he first mooted it to her. She even had a copy of the DVD recording and had said how much she enjoyed it. My face reddened and I was for the first time lost for words. “Now my darling she has paid for your services and asked me to have you follows her to the ladies.” I was shocked and knew we would bed arguing over this once we were home, which wouldn’t be long after this revelation. A fantasy was one thing but that was private and I could not forgive him for humiliating me. He smiled at me and reached across to take my hand. I tried to pull it away, but he held on to it tight. “You seem to realise I wasn’t joking about the whore idea. She has paid for your services and should you decide not to provide what she has paid for” he patted my hand” well she wonders how your DVD would look on You Tube”? My face reddened as my anger evaporated into humiliation and subjugation. “Now my darling off you trot, third stall as you go in” He patted my hand.

As I stood John sat back down and he took my husbands hand, placing it between his legs. I was stunned as I watched my husband face turn red. Then he undid the zip to John’s trouser and slide his hand in. His macho image had been shattered. John smiled and assured me “you don’t think this was all his idea?  He may pretend he is the brains behind the fun you have had, but he isn’t the one who works the stings. He just does as we bid him, after I took a peak at his works accounts. TUTT...now run along Mary paid good money for you” and with that he watched as my loving husband paid homage to John’s erection.

My marriage in tatters, I walked to the ladies. I felt humiliated, shamed but very turned on. A beautiful woman was awaiting me, and she had paid good money for me. It was the fantasies second chapter come to life. I had no idea what fate awaited me, but I was sure it would be nothing compared to that of my ex husband.

I pushed the toilet door open and walked in. There were three stalls and a row of hand basins. Mary was not in sight but the third door cubical was shut. Aside from that I had the room to myself.

I walked over to the closed stall door and tapped on it gently. The door slowly swung open and I saw Mary sat on the throne, her legs slightly apart and a smile on her lips.  “I can see my money has been worth it, now slip out of that dress darling”. I felt my cheeks redden, my panties becoming damper from the memories and the anticipation of what my client required of me. I reached round, loosened the zip and pulled the dress free. I stood there in the entrance to the stall, clad in just my panties, and hold ups. I never wore a bra as I felt I had the sort of figure that could risk being free from that. Mary smiled again and held her hand out for my dress.

I passed my new expensive dress into her hands and before my eyes she dropped it onto the floor beside the toilet. It landed in a puddle of some sort and I could see the liquid soaking into the red fabric.

She beckoned me into the stall and with the lack of space I could do nothing but stand before her. Her hands reached out and eased my panties down, her eyes feasting on my shaven mound. Once they reached my ankles I stepped out of them and these to were discarded by my client into a pool of unknown origin.

She slid her hand between my thighs, and my legs parted. She could feel the wetness of my arousal and I felt her fingers slide between my lips and into the deep pool of wetness. Her fingers wet with my juices, she slipped them into her mouth and tasted my scent from them. “Now remove my panties” said ordered, parting her legs some more.

I had no choice but to kneel, my stocking knees sinking to the floor and also becoming wet. Had no one cleaned these toilets? I felt the cold liquid seep through my holds up fine mesh and soak into my skin.

I reached out with my hands to between her knees and with shaking fingers pulled her panties down, as she raised her bottom of the seat. I slipped them over her feet and was ordered me to inhale the scent that emanated from the crutch. My knees sliding in the wet floor, I placed my nose to the stained crutch and inhaled the scent of aroused bitch.

She took them from me and then finally spread her legs wide, allowing me to see the wetness of her pussy as well as her large aroused lips. “Tongue forward, and earn the price I paid for you” she commanded. Placing both hands on her stocking knees for support and leant in towards that mound. I could see the puffed shaped of the lips as leant forward. Her scent was strong and went someway to over come the smell of stale piss that emanated from the toilet bowl.

With the tip of my tongue I tenderly touched her wet flesh and the sheer arousal of my birthday gift came back to me. The hornyness, the sheer desire to serve to be a true whore came flooding back. Those nights with my fingers exploring myself became fact as I started to earn the price of my services. A price I never saw, but one that my unknown pimp would be given.

My tongue ran along her wet slit, her wetness filling my mouth. I could feel her breath sharply in, as my tongue touched those lips again, and I sucked one into my mouth. It was almost like sucking on a small cock, but it turned me on far more.  I sucked the lip until it could reach no further into my mouth and with my fingers I sought admission to her wet hole.  My finger slid past the entrance and deep into her depths, Mary moaned and her buttocks lifted off the seat as she reached a new stage in her arousal, a stage that I had brought on, me the married woman! Me kneeling in piss and serving this woman as she sat on a toilet seat.

I felt my own pussy moisten, but no hands would be permitted there unless I was permitted to do so. I was here to give pleasure not to receive it. As I knelt there, my feet sticking out past the stall door I heard the toilet door open and the sound of heels. A woman laughed as I felt her hands run them self over my exposed buttocks. “You were right Mary she is special” the woman commented. “May I?” she asked. Mary was beyond speech, but I heard her mummer “yes” through her clenched lips. My face never lifted from its duties as I sucked and licked. I felt her juices coating my face and my nostrils becoming blocked with the liquid that escaped my efforts.

I felt my buttock cheeks being parted and a finger being slid into my anus hole. I felt a fresh violation and became more aroused as it slid deeper. The pain was worth the pleasure and I pushed myself onto the finger. I pushed, feeling it fill me, and that made me double my efforts to make my clients evening the one she had paid for.

I walked across the dining room. Dressed once more in my new dress. The stains on it and the state of my stockings made me look the whore I was. In one hand I carried my panties, have been forbidden to wear them and my heals abandoned in the toilet. I was led by my client’s hand, as she walked me across the room. Diners looked up, women smiled and I could sense a few of them were already working out what nights they could book me for. That I would be busy again soon.

Mary led me to the men’s door and opened it with one hand. I looked  and was not surprised to see my ex husband kneeling on the floor, his knees in piss, his trousers and pants discarded, as he offered John the same service I had his wife. We were no longer husband and wife but simply whore and rent boy.  What a future awaited us, as we were paid to serve in anyway our clients required.

As ever feed back most welcome and I hope those of you who asked for part 2 will not be disappointed

The Birthday Gift

(Part 3)

Warning: This story is a work of fiction and contains descriptions of explicit homosexual acts between women and men.  If this type of

content offends you or you are under the age of 18 do not read it.

Author's Note: This story is the property of the author. It can be

downloaded for personal reading pleasure or sending

to a friend, but if you wish to re-post them at your

own site, please contact the author for permission.

Copyright 2008 Dec, All Rights Reserved.

I had taken the memory of my recent, and locked it deep away in the darkest recess of my mind. Maybe if I tried to forget the events, then they would go away? A month had slid by, nothing further had happened and the knot in my stomach wasn’t quite so ever present. There were mornings when I would wake, and my mind would not replay those images. But then there were the dark hour, when I would lay in our bed and my body would betray the thrill I had felt that day, then a wetness and arousal would make my fingers itch.  I would lay there in the dark, my fingers immersed deep into that torrent, and the humiliation being replayed as I came alive to the lustful events that I had taken part in.

My husband, Pete, and I had agreed a silent truce on the events. We carried on as before my birthday. We had little or no contact with Mary and John. We went to work, came home, ate, and talked about the dull stuff that marriage is comprised of. Our sex life was nonexistent. We both sensed that to fuck would force us to face up to our humiliations. If we didn’t talk about it then hell maybe it never happened. The red dress was dropped into one of those charity sacks that drop through letter boxes, and was now off to Africa, where it would be worn by someone else.

The working week had been the same as usual and Saturday morning arrived with relief. A leisurely breakfast, then off to the supermarket. Pete had made coffee and was sat reading the days newspaper, while I read the supplements. There were days when life wasn’t so bad.

Pete looked up as the door bell rang, and then looked across at me. His expression asked me to make the effort, reminding me of what a lazy sod he can be at times. I threw him a scathing look, and made my way to the front door.

I was faced by two people, about our ages. The male was holding a small case, and was well dressed in a smart suit and tie. He was not bad looking, but his companion was a vision. She to wore a business suit, a short skirt and long nylon encased legs ran down to some expensive looking high heals. “Good Morning” she smiled as she spoke. God bible bashers! Hardly a charitable thought, but it was the last thing I wanted. “I am sorry but…” I replied, smiling and making to close the door in their faces. “I think maybe…” but the closing door shut the words off, or it would have if it manage to fully close it. I looked down to see what the obstruction was. An expensive high heal was between the door and frame, preventing its closure.

“John and Mary say hello. They wondered how rent boy and whore are doing” My face reddened, and the dark recesses where the memories been locked away, now sent those taboo thoughts rushing to the fore. A hand pushed at the door and it swung open, my resistance being token and futile. My two bible bashers stepped though, making me step back into the sitting room. The front door was closed and followed me in.

Pete looked up from his paper. “Morning?” he asked, a puzzled look on his face. “Pete, these…” my words were cut off, by a raised voice telling us to “shut the fuck up”. My ‘macho’ husband raised himself from the chair, letting his paper drop down on to the coffee table. His mouth opened to voice a protest, but the words “how’s rent boy?” made his face reddened, a redness that matched my own. His mouth open to speak, but no words were coming out.

“We can do this two ways.” Our female guest informed us. “You can been silly and we leave. But I would have the pleasure of some nice You Tube viewing later on, or you can strip and obey. Simple choice and your last free one to make”. Our guests looked us over and waited for our answer. My mind ran various scenarios though, but no matter how I played it, I could see now way out. Resistance was futile. Pete’s mind seemed to have run a similar chain of thoughts, as he was the first to start undressing. He reluctantly lifted his polo shirt over his head and his hands unfastened his trousers belt. My fingers shook as they removed my own clothing, and goose bumps covered my skin. Not from cold, but from a sense of excitement, an excitement that was mixed with sheer panic at what lay head.

Peter stood next to me, naked as the day he was born. He never was the hairiest of men, and his man hood was to say the least, small. I had always been proud of my body and over the years had fought to retain some of my figure. The female bible basher looked me over, her eyes taking every detail of my shaven mound, of my small but well formed breasts and of my nipples. My arousal was to clearly betrayed by their first signs swelling. Her eyes were no longer innocent, but gave stares of pure lust and intent.

“Pete says you give a fine blow job sissy boy” her companion said, as he opened the suit case. He removed a small tripod, erected it and then mounted a camcorder on to it. “It would be so nice to have a photographic record of today” she said laughing. “Both of you kneel” she added. We barely hesitated, as we dropped to our knees. “Now darling” she said looking over at me, “remove my panties”. Part of me wanted to get up and walk out, but a larger part made my shaking hands seek the flimsy material beneath her skirt. I eased them down over hear smooth stocking encased legs. They were thin, almost transparent and white. “Stand up boy” Pete was commanded and he lifted up self up to stand beside me. “Now please darling, help sissy boy to step into her new panties”. I looked at the thin material of the gusset, took in the stains that hinted at how long they had encased her pussy, and arse hole. I held the leg holes open as Pete made to step into them. I looked straight ahead, his pathetic man hood showing the first signs of arousal, as I dressed my husband in a strangers soiled and stained panties.

Shaving my own legs had always been a chore, but one a girl is expected to undertake. But I had never foreseen the day when I would be ordered to shave my husbands. I had always joked he had better legs then mine, but as the razor cut through the shaving foam, I realised how true the jibe was. Her legs looked smooth and silky when free of their fair hair, and her arm pits were also treated to the same process. Shaving round his sad penis was a new experience for me, but one I completed with no nicks or cuts. Next he shaved his own face twice and now we stood once again before the bible bashers, both of us naked, both smooth skinned, he never had boasted a hairy chest, and wearing identical panties. Mine had come, compliments of the suit case they had brought with them. My husband’s panties boasted a small bulge of arousal, and I had to confess to butterflies of excitement within my own stomach. The next task was bright red nail varnish which we were ordered to apply to each other. Like two lesbian lovers, we knelt in turn and painted each others nails with the shinny red gloss. As I knelt I could not help but watch as the bulge in sissy boys panties strained at the thin white material of her panties

The suit case next yielded two pairs of barely black hold ups and once each was handed to sissy boy and to me. The next step was all too obvious and we both sat down side by side on the sofa, sliding our arms into the first of the hold ups. Then scrunching then up, we slid our toes into the opening, before we slid the sheer material up our smooth legs. Like two sisters we watched each other as we straightened the creases out and ensured all was smooth and even. Then we repeated the process with the second hold up.

The case next yielded a bra to match our panties and silicon breasts moulds for sissy. Their skin tone seemed to have been selected with care to complement his own skin, and the adhesive backing made for a smooth and even edge where the silicon touched his skin.

I could not help but think how amazing she looked, the she that had been my husband. My own arousal was less obvious but it was something I could no longer deny to myself. I was so turned, on watching him becoming 'she', becoming my twin sister.  Two short black dresses that barely covered our hold up lace up tops were next, and we took turns to zip each other up. How they had found black 6” heals to fit her I know not, but she soon stood there beside me, dressed from the neck down identically to me. From our shiny PVC high heals, and barely black legs that vanished under the dresses short black hem. The plunging neck line, which served to highlight our cleavages. The only difference was my sister’s arousal, while not full, was noticeable.

“Something is missing” the lady bible basher muttered as she reached into the case. I should not have been surprised that the wig would be one identical to my own hairs long style, and the make up I applied to her was carefully selected to reflect my own. He, or she looked beautiful and it had not failed to dawn on me that if she did, then so did I.

From outside came a car horn, and bible basher laughed as he said “your rides here”. Ride? They didn’t think for one minute that we would take one step through that door. It was erotic to play sisters in the privacy of our own four walls, but…. There was no way I could see sis taking that step, but then the camcorder was there to record all and I knew we had no real choice.

“You have been booked for a private party at the Clarendon. You’re expected to be there in an hour, so don’t be late. But first…” the bible basher laughed as he walked up to my sister.  He slid his zip down, and from within his trousers he removed his own fully erect cock. “Before you go however, you must show how grateful you are” he smiled, as he traced his fingers along sister’s smooth lips. I turned and saw that his girl friend was sat on the sofa. Her own smooth hair free mound exposed, as she parted her legs to display the wet folds of her lips. Hinting at what was expected of me.

He sat beside her, his cock erect , wet and glistening. Sis and I looked at each other, knowing where each of us was expected to serve. I dropped to my knees, and placed my hands on each of her legs. Sis copied my actions, resting his hands on bible basher’s suited knees. Before each of us was a wet glistening sight of arousal. Both of us no longer felt shame as we eased into wards our heavily scented goals. My tongue sneaked out, my nostrils full of her scent. Sis opened his own mouth, as his lip sank over the hard erect cock, and slowly slid down its length. Sucking it into her pussy mouth like it was the sweetest of lollys. Once the moist head touched the back of her throat, sis started to suck, feeling the trickle of pre cum on her taste buds.

My own tongue traced a line along the wet enflamed lips with its tip, taking the juices into my own mouth. There we knelt, sis with hard flesh deep in her mouth, flesh that twitched to her mouths touch, and me, juices filling my nostrils, sucking each of her lips in turn into my mouth as if they too were two small cocks. I felt her shudder as I brought her to climax, and I could hear a similar reaction by the work of my sister’s tongue. It seemed our two clients climaxed within seconds of each other, and each of us had our heads held in place, while we swallowed the torrent of juices, that had been our result for our service. I looked across at sis, and could see traces of spunk on her chin, and I knew my own face glistened from the honey of pussy juices.

We sat side by side in the taxi that was making its way through the traffic. Our clients had led us to the taxi door, and watched as we climbed into the back seat. Sis struggled with the shortness of her skirt, and the height of her heels. Both new experiences for her, but I noticed how she kept her knees together and sat with her legs at a lady like angle. She would do just fine. The Clarendon awaited us, where we were to entertain. What that comprised I had no clear notion, but I had some interesting ideas.

Feed back is welcome, but please not this is not written as an entry for the Booker prize, so don’t bother to point out spelling, grammar of inconsistency in the plot. It’s purely written as sexual fun. All that said if you take the time to email me I will always reply. Enjoy.

Sharon x