Wednesday, January 13, 2010

"All Aboard!" Part 4

"All Aboard!" Part 4

by Julius
Copyright 2004

Suddenly, it seemed, six months were gone and Art's next railroad club meeting was upon her. The tidying and preparing that had once delighted her, was now irksome.

Six more months of sexless marriage and here she was, catering for his get-together. Dammit! Why bother?

Not that the half year had been sexless for Muriel. She'd bedded his whole group, every last one. If pride was a sin, how about being proudly sinful? Oh but she'd loved it. All seventeen of them had fallen to her charms, or had they jumped? Not once had Art come onto her, not once. And she'd given him ample chance and sometimes, not a little encouragement.

Her last conquest had been that very Saturday morning. Only just in time to complete her collection. Bob, cute Bob, a real old goat but a gentleman too. He'd knelt under the kitchen table and had eaten her for breakfast. God! she could almost come, just thinking about his mouth, like father like son. And of course, her mind skipped to the son, young Mark.

Muriel sometimes wondered about nymphomania. Was there such a thing? Was she becoming a nympho? Muriel the Nymph, hmm, she liked that. She turned back to setting up the buffet. Having all her conquests under one roof together, should be a fun afternoon.

John arrived half an hour early. 'Doctor' John as she thought of him.

"Where's Art?" he asked, glancing around.

"Downstairs, cleaning track. You're the first arrival," she glanced at the clock, "and pretty early at that."

"Missed you," he said and moved close, slipping his arms round her. His hands slid down over her ass and he began working her skirt up over her buttocks, inch by teasing inch.

She moaned and pressed herself against him. He was hard against her belly. "Oh but I need some of this," she murmured, grinding against his erection.

When he'd bared her ass, his fingers found her thong and began to pull it upwards. Tight between her legs, and tight into her pussy, she loved the feeling of invasion. "You're cutting me in half," she said. He pulled harder and she squirmed against the thong's tightness, revelled in the feel of his hardness. God, she was so horny it was like a fever.

Art's footsteps sounded on the stairs and Muriel and John pulled quickly apart. "Hello there John, you're early," Art said and added to Muriel, "any coffee Moo?"

The two men went downstairs together, with mugs of coffee, leaving Muriel with her hungry pussy, and a longing she thought would drive her mad.

Ralph arrived next and they chatted. Muriel was folding napkins at the kitchen counter. She soon found herself with him stood behind her, his erection nudging her ass cleavage, while his hands cupped and squeezed her breasts. She was squirming her ass against him and wondering how she was going to endure much more when the doorbell announced another arrival.

After that they arrived one after another for about ten minutes. No chance for anybody to give her more than a hug or a peck on the cheek. She was almost relieved.

Finally, the rush ended and she wondered about the two new members Art had mentioned, especially the new lady member. Didn't seem the sort of hobby to attract a female. But then she thought, there were females and there were females.

With pretty well everybody there, she left the front door open and fled to the bedroom to change. The early arrivals had upset her schedule.

She undressed and stood in front of the mirror for a few moments. She cupped her breasts and nodded her approval. She half turned and checked the reflection of her ass. Not bad for fifty something, she thought.

The last six months had been wonderful. The next few hours promised to be very interesting. God, she needed some cock. Maybe she could just ..., her hands strayed south. No! There was no time. She crammed her heavy breasts into a white, half-cup bra that produced a spectacular cleavage and followed that with a thin, white cotton blouse. She struggled her usual black leather skirt up over her hips and zipped herself in. It was too short but she knew what it did to the guys. No thong, no panties, would any of them manage to discover that fact? She hoped so. She ran a comb though her black hair, not a trace of grey thanks to Clairol. Finally, glossy strawberry lipstick and she headed downstairs.

In the kitchen stood a woman who smiled and apologised, "Forgive me, but the door was open and nobody answered my knock."

"You must be Sandra, the lady modeller."

Sandra smiled, "Sounds like something out of Playboy," for a small woman she had a deep, rather sexy voice.

Muriel liked her on sight. "You'll be wanting to go downstairs to play," Muriel said, gesturing across the kitchen.

"Not really, my only interest is the pocket money from painting sky and clouds and back-scenes for their layouts."

"Coffee then? Let's go sit in the living room."

Muriel lost track of time as they talked and laughed. She was angered and then amused at how much Art had told Sandra about their relationship.

Coffee drunk, Muriel opened a bottle of wine and this began to loosen tongues a little more.

"Art says you've played around with guys in his group," followed Sandra's third glass of wine.

This confirmed her guess that Art hadn't completely overlooked her activities. "That's right I did," Muriel told her with great satisfaction.

Food and entertaining forgotten, Muriel opened a second bottle and the two women found themselves getting along wonderfully. No interruption from downstairs save the murmur of voices.

"Art and I haven't been lovers for a long time now. A girl needs a little fun."

"You bet," said Sandra enthusiastically.

Sandra was a secretary with Art's law firm and worked much of her time for Art. Muriel sensed more than a professional relationship and felt a pang of jealousy, but then again she couldn't imagine the attraction. Art was too much the workaholic and Sandra seemed too warm and bubbly for a man of Art's cool personality.

"So which ones were your choices?" asked Sandra.

Muriel giggled, "All of 'em."

"All of them!"

"Every last one of them, all seventeen," said Muriel, a note of pride in her voice, "Except you of course," she said and hiccoughed.

"Well, not yet," Sandra shot back.

This made Muriel think. She'd never really been attracted to her own sex. The wine and the intimate nature of the conversation did lend a warmth and a closeness. Sandra was very like herself in proportion but maybe fifteen years younger. Medium height and abit on the heavy side. Full of bosom and wide of hip, all the more reason to wonder at any possible playing around with Art, she was too much like Muriel.

The level in the second bottle dropped and the two women found each other good company. Soon Muriel was telling all about Art's shortcomings.

But when Sandra started telling her about Art's plans for the afternoon she found herself smiling. She was angry, but the idea of enjoying what Art thought of as punishment had a certain sweetness.

"Well," she said, "it would be fun don't you think?"

"If you think so," said Sandra in surprise, "it's your choice now."

Feet sounded on the stairs and Art appeared, "Oh hi Sandy, there you are." Annoyance registered on his face at the sight of the two women sitting together on the couch.

"Will the food be ready soon Moo?" he said.

"Bring the guys up in twenty minutes," she told him. He headed back down to the basement.

"Moo?" queried Sandra.

"Goes back a long time to when he seemed to care," shec upped her hands under her heavy breasts and hefted them and said, "Moo, not very flattering but the name stuck, I'm afraid."

"Yes he is a tits man," she caught Muriel's glance and blushed and Muriel wondered again about Art.

Art herded the guys upstairs and they began filling plates with food. Most moved into the living room but some milled around in the kitchen and dining area. Muriel was surprised that all of them seemed to fit in somehow. Half chose coffee or tea and the rest settled for a beer, all drinking happily from bottles.

When everybody was busy, Art called them to order and said, "I've got a movie here for everyone to watch, but first, a present for Moo"

Muriel was standing in the kitchen and knew the 'fun' was about to begin. She exchanged glances with Sandra who gave her a big wink. Art walked through to the kitchen and took Muriel by the elbow and led her through to the solarium. Sandra had walked through behind them. "Here, sit down Moo, close your eyes and hold out your hands."

She sat and closed her eyes. She felt hands moving at her waist and knew it was Art. Something tightened around her waist and Art grunted. More touching and this was at her ankles. She opened her eyes in alarm and looked down. Too late, she was tied to the chair. Rope around her waist and Sandra kneeling on the floor tightening plastic cable ties, securing her ankles to the chair legs.

Some futile struggles and angry questions at Art's retreating back. Some because she knew she had to act surprised but some of the performance was quite real because she was both angry and not a little scared.

Art headed back to the living room but she could hear him plainly enough.

"Gentleman, perhaps five months ago I had cameras installed in every room of this house. I'm sure you all know why," he said and paused, no doubt enjoyingthe drama of the moment.

"I took the films from the cameras from time to time and I've made another delightful film featuring the highlights." Muriel sensed he was really enjoyinghimself.

Art continued. "Copies are in a safe place," he paused to let the threat sink in, "so I'm sure you'll be only too happy to cooperate this afternoon."

She heard a tape being put into the VCR. "As each of you appear on the screen I'd like you to go through to the solarium and Moo will pleasure you for one last time and then you can run along home."

"Sandra!" Art raised his voice, "don't forget our tape will you? You'll help Muriel all you can, I'm sure."

Surprised Muriel looked up at Sandra who went over and closed the door. She said very quietly, "He has a rather compromising tape of me which would end my chances at the university and my job with the law firm. No degree and out of work. I'll help whether I like it or not."

The sun streamed into the room. Sandra went round tilting the horizontal blinds to give Muriel privacy but still letting the sun shine in. A gentle knock at the door. Both girls called, "Come in," almost in unison and then did the same as they said, 'sorry' to each other.

John walked in. "I'm so sorry about this," he said. He glanced at Sandra and back at Muriel and raised an eyebrow, wondering about the younger woman's presence.

"Come here John," she said.

"We don't have to do this you know," he told her.

"I think we do. No doubt one of Art's cameras is watching. Besides, you like the things we do together don't you?"

Another glance at Sandra and he said, "Yes of course I do."

Hormones care nothing about trivial things, they just race through the body when the mood takes them. Muriel reached for his zipper.

She smiled at Sandra's gasp as John's cock reared erect. Apparently his hormones didn't care either. My goodness, he's so big, thought Muriel.

John's cock was a job for mouth and both hands. Mouthful and hands full, God but he was beautiful. She heard his breathing deepen and felt her pussy clench. Quite suddenly Muriel's body took over, and all that mattered was John's cock.

His hands cradled the back of her head and he began to fuck her mouth with a gentle urgency. He too seemed to have forgotten Sandra's presence and the circumstances.

It didn't take very long, he seemed to telegraph his urgency and then he was coming and Muriel drew her head back and directed his cum over her face. She revelled in the feel of the hot jets against her closed eyelids.

John bent over her, "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be," she said, "I loved it."

The door closed behind him and Sandra came with some tissues for Muriel to clean herself up.

Muriel reached a hand under her skirt and felt the wetness there. She glanced up at Sandra, "This is crazy. I'm so horny. How can I be when ... " she gestured around her helplessly.

"You looked like you were having fun."

"Fun? The world's most beautiful cock just went out of that door, and all I have is a cum-wet face and blouse. My pussy wanted some of that," said Muriel.

"Yes and the owner of that cock never gave me so much as a glance," said Sandra and began to unbutton her blouse, making the excuse, "it's warm in here or maybe the floor show is hot."

Another knock and this time Sandra went to open the door.

"Hello Ernest," Muriel said. Her mind went back six months to when he'd taken her while she perched on the vanity in the bathroom. Ernest was the founding member of Muriel's little railroad group.

He said hello to Sandra, his gaze lingering on her opened blouse, before returning to Muriel. "Seems Art has outsmarted us, my dear."

"Well, come and give me a goodbye present," said Muriel, beginning to unbutton her own blouse.
To Muriel's surprise, Sandra went and knelt in front of Ernest and unzipped him. Her clever fingers had his cock out in moments and she gently brought him to full erection with her fingers. He didn't resist, although he did look a little surprised. "Two maidens, just for me." She brought him to stand in front of Muriel and picked up a bottle of lubricant from a little table. Art seemed to have thought of everything.

Muriel took the bottle from her and squeezed a generous amount into her cleavage. She eased her breasts out of her bra cups and held them for him.

Ernest slid his cock into her slick cleavage with a groan and fucked her breasts while she squeezed them hard together. The pressure of her hands and the thrusting penetrations of Ernest's cock felt exquisite. She stared down and watched the swollen cock-head appear disappear at the top of her deep cleavage.

Sandra watched delightedly.

Ernest, despite his years, soon came between Muriel's tight-squeezed breasts and up over her throat. He sat in a chair breathing hard and loud and allowed Sandra to put his cock away for him and carefully zip him up. When he'd thanked them both and gone out,they looked at each other.

"Isn't he a dear?" said Sandra.

"Mmmm," sighed Muriel kneading her slick breasts. She thought wistfully about Ernest's cock on that far off Saturday, wishing. Her pussy spasmed, perhaps it was wishing too.

"Now you have a come-filled cleavage; life gets better by the minute," Sandra told her, in a voice that said they both were having fun.

And so her railroad lovers came, one after the other and she helped them come, one after another.

Sandra had kept undressing slowly, a garment, it seemed, for each visitor. Now she wore just panties. As each man had come in, his eyes had lingered on Sandra's exposure. There was no doubt she was aroused, the way she moved and the jut of her nipples proclaimed it very plainly. But she always steered them to Muriel. Even so, Muriel just knew the younger woman was just as aroused as herself.

When yet another happy lover had closed the door behind him Sandra announced, "He was number eight, you've made it to half way down the list." Muriel was secretly pleased. She was enjoying this. Her arousal had somehow become a manageable, steady state. She squirmed her ass on the wooden seat, very aware that the wetness under her was all of her own making. She ran her finger tips over her face and then her breasts and wondered if male ejaculate was really good for the complexion. Sandra laughed delightedly when Muriel suggested it to her.

Muriel needed a pee very badly. Sandra found a pair ofscissors and freed her to visit the bathroom just outside the solarium. She squatted there and experienced a near ecstasy of another sort. As she was leaving she glanced in the mirror, her breasts, out of her bra, glistened and her nipples poked out proudly. Had they stopped their poking since this day had started?

She opened the door and Sandra was standing there. She escorted her back to the chair and they stood facing each other.

"Watching you perform is driving me wild you know," said the girl. Her eyes flicked down to Muriel's bare breasts.

Muriel gave a nervous little laugh and, quite on impulse, took Sandra's hand and placed it on her right breast. "I know what you mean. I've been horny as a mink since I found out about all this." She gestured around the room with her free hand. She remembered Bob's efforts under the breakfast table and realised she'd been horny all day.

Sandra squeezed her breast and Muriel growled softly in her throat. Sandra bent her head and kissed the big nipple. Muriel started to melt and felt her legs begin to buckle. She clung to Sandra as that wonderful mouth just went on loving her nipple.

Sandra came up for air, "You smell all yummy and cummy," she told Muriel.

Muriel stood very still. The air between them seemed charged. She cupped her breasts with her hands and made her nipples touch Sandra's. She moved her breasts gently from side to side and two pairs of nipples teased their owners. "I've never done anything like this before with a woman," she confessed.

"Nice isn't it?" said Sandra, her own eyes closed, her tongue playing over her lips.

Sandra dropped to her knees and slid Muriel's skirt up her thighs. "Oh God, you're not wearing any panties."

Just kiss me, Muriel begged silently, thrusting her hips forward, yearning. Sandra's nose brushed Muriel's curls and she squirmed.

Knuckles rapped softly on the door. "Just a minute,"called Sandra. Muriel cried out softly as she felt Sandra move away and stand. The need, between her thighs was suddenly awful.

But she went to the chair and, flicking up her skirt at the back, sat on the chair's wet seat. She squirmed feeling her ass slide on the wet, polished wood. She sat quietly and let Sandra tie her to the chair. There was enough cord to secure her ankles too and Muriel wondered vaguely where Sandra had learnt her knots.

When Sandra opened the door, Muriel's heart leaped. It was Mark. Mark the young man she'd brought from shy youth to wonderful lover, in a few short months. But he looked very uncertain now. She knew he cared very much for her and she for him. He crossed the room and stood in front of her. "I'm sorry you're having to do this."

Muriel bit back the urge to say that she was enjoying every minute. He was so obviously sincere. "It's OK Mark," she smiled up at him, suddenly aware and almost shy, as his gaze passed over her bared breasts and hiked up skirt. Muriel wondered what he'd like her to do for him.

Mark reached out and touched her hair and said a very quiet, "See you," and he was gone. The door to the side of the house closed and Muriel and Sandra exchanged looks and Muriel started crying.

"Wow," said Sandra. Muriel thought that summed Mark up very nicely.

"Wow's right," she said. She beckoned Sandra over and whispered, "Can you believe he just apologised and walked out? Sweet young guy and the most beautiful cock and a tongue that never quits!"

Seven to go thought Muriel. The aching want between her legs had returned with a vengeance when Mark had appeared. She dropped a hand between her thighs, not caring that Sandra or a camera could see. She was wet, so very wet and she found her clit and sobbed at the sweet delight of her own touch. If only they'd leave her alone, for just a little while.

But no, here was randy old Bill, who thought himself such a lover. He stood proudly in front of her and unzipped himself before she could reach for him. She took him out and told him how big he was. He looked so proud when she said that. He was a sweet guy and crazy about Muriel. He thought Muriel the best thing that had ever happened. Sandra came round to stand behind Muriel. Sweet old Bill, Muriel watched with delight as his eyes flicked up and down between the two pairs of heavy breasts. This was almost too much for him. Sandra handed her the lubricant and Muriel took his cock and pulled him towards her, to stand between her parted knees.

He came almost before she could pleasure him at all, all over her hand. She squealed with mock delight and he glowed with pride. When Sandra stepped forward and cleaned him off with a handful of Kleenex Muriel thought he'd die of joy.

Still the guys came, and came, then, "Just one more I think," said Sandra.

"I don't think I've ever been so cock hungry in mylife," said Muriel.

"You!" said Sandra, "at least you're getting to touch the lovely things." She slid a hand down to cup her crotch. "I'm soaking, my pussy's starving for some loving."

It was hot, with the sunshine streaming into the room and Sandra's bare skin glistened with sweat. Muriel thought she looked utterly beautiful in just the little panties. Muriel had never felt like this about another woman. My God, she thought, disbelieving; I want her.

Sandra came and stood in front of her and leaned over. Her breasts swung in front of Muriel's face. As if it were the most natural thing to do, Muriel kissed Sandra's left nipple and then drew it into her mouth. Sandra moaned and murmured, "Yes baby, oh yes." Muriel suckled hungrily and she felt as she could come, just from the sensations inside her.

The door opened and neither woman moved. A polite male cough beside them and Muriel released Sandra's nipple with a loud kiss. "Quite a turn on," Bob told them.

Muriel's jaws ached and her lips felt swollen. Even her wrists and hands were aching. Tendonitis from jerking guys off, she wondered what Doctor John would say about that.

"Hello Bob, last, but not least I trust," she said, "Sandra, Bob's Mark's dad."

"And Art's boss and my boss. Good afternoon," said Sandra with mock formality.

Bob didn't have his son's sensitivity it seemed. He stood in front of Muriel and said, "Maybe I can pay you for breakfast my dear?"

Muriel sighed. This was her last one. She clamped her thighs tight on her own needs and reached for Bob's zipper. Well endowed for a small man, the sight of his erection brought an appreciative murmur from Sandra. He glanced at her and grinned, "Plenty for two, young lady."

Sandra sidestepped this by saying, "Too much for me I'm afraid, sir."

Knowing this man was sending Art to the West Coast to open the new offices there, made Muriel only too eager to please him.

She took her time satisfying Bob. Hands and mouth and tongue taking him repeatedly to the edge. She'd learnt a lot in six months and Bob was near collapse when she bent his cock cruelly down, and used it to tease her nipples. He was begging for release by then and she took him in her mouth again. This time there was no stopping. He grabbed handfuls of her hair.

Sandra put one hand to her pussy and one to her mouth as she watched in delight. Bob thrust time and again.Then she saw Muriel's throat swallowing. Muriel dropped her hands from Bob's cock and caught her nipples between thumbs and forefingers and squeezed and pulled cruelly. Finally, finally, oh bless'ed moment, she came too.

Bob slowly withdrew his cock from between her lips. Tears of relief coursed down Muriel's cheeks and she teetered on the brink of blacking out.

The only sound in the room for minutes it seemed was that of the heavy breathing of Bob and Muriel. Finally Bob said, "Dear God! That was incredible."

"You liked that did you?" said Muriel who'd needed release so badly. She licked her lips and squirmed in the puddle she'd made. Bob's cock softened and drooled onto her thigh.
Sandra emerged from her own dream state, her hand was down inside her panties. Bob moved over to her and slipped something into her hand. They exchanged murmured words.

A change seemed to come over Sandra and she looked over at Muriel, "I've got things to do."

To Bob she said, "I'll be in for work on Monday."

Bob said he was looking forward to having her work for him. To Muriel he said, "Thank you my dear, it's been wonderful." Then he too was gone.

Sandra came over and untied Muriel. "Follow me, you may enjoy the next little while," she headed for the door. "Keep out of sight," she added over her shoulder.

Muriel moved after Sandra, a little unsteady on her feet. She felt sorely in need of a shower. Her thighs were slick against each other as she walked, her skirt was wet against her ass. I must have leaked a gallon she thought. She'd never been so aroused so long. She wondered about dehydration and smiled to herself. Her bra was still round her waist, her blouse lay on thefloor.

Ahead of her Sandra called, "Where's my slave?" She disappeared into the main part of the house and Muriel could hear muted conversation.

She dropped to her knees and peeked around the corner,very conscious of her breasts swinging free. Sandra stood with her feet apart, her back to Muriel. "Strip slave!" she ordered, "face the other way. I don't want to see your sorry face."

She reached for her purse beside the couch and produced a cat o' nine tails, short-handled, long-tailed. She swung it and Muriel heard the hiss. She crept a little further out. There was Art bent over, struggling out of his pants.

When he was naked save for his socks Sandra said, "Socks too. You look kind of silly like that." As he pushed off the second sock and straightened Sandra moved forward and dealt him a blow across his white buttocks. He yelped.

"On your knees and we'll go find a bed, I need to use that miserable body of yours."

It was too sweet to bear. Watching Sandra drive Art ahead of her, out of the living room and up the stairs. She whipped him every inch of the way, turning his ass into two hemispheres of red welts.

Muriel wanted to follow and to watch but she also wanted to rest, and rest won out. The sounds of Sandra screaming her satisfaction made Muriel clutch at herself as she lay on the couch. She needed some of that but not from Art.

"Well," said Muriel aloud to herself, "so that's what he needed." She giggled. "Why didn't he just ask me?" She'd have been only to happy to have bought a whip and obliged.

She pictured the scene upstairs and somehow imagined Sandra astride Art, impaled and bouncing frantically. Then she realised with a shock that she wanted Sandra to come down and hold her. Suddenly, helplessly tired, she fell asleep.

"Wake up, sleepy head," said Sandra's voice and Muriel opened her eyes. God but she needed a shower and a pee.

"Well, Art's sleeping the sleep of the soundly punished and the thoroughly fucked," Sandra told her. She held out three video tapes. "The solarium and us, the bedroom and me with that no good husband of yours and the masterpiece he was showing the guys. The other four cameras are empty."

An hour later they were in Sandra's apartment. Sandra showed Muriel around and then, waving a bunch of keys she said, "Bob lent me his keys, now I've got a little more business to attend to."

Muriel unpacked her bag and headed for the shower.

When Sandra returned an hour later she had a bag which she handed to Muriel. "Six more tapes. Now we've got them all. These were in his desk at the office," she announced. "There aren't any more. He talked his head off while we fucked, God but he's so pleased with himself." She took one out and turned it over thoughtfully, "Even this one of me."

All of Art's tapes. Everybody off the hook. "Sandy, how do I thank you?" asked Muriel.

"Well maybe we could sit and watch the movies you've starred in," Sandra said. "I'm hungry, thirsty and need to sit a while. How does pizza and wine sound?"

"Wonderful," said Muriel.

They waited for the pizza delivery and Sandra raised her glass, "Here's to a happy Art on the West Coast."

"To Art," echoed Muriel and broke into giggles.

With the pizza eaten and the bottle empty they sat sprawled on the couch and Muriel felt more at peace than in a long time.

She sat up suddenly and reached for her purse. "I've got something to do."

"What's that?" asked Sandra dreamily.

"Phone seventeen guys," she said, "tell them the good news."

"Sixteen," said Sandra, "I dropped the keys off at Bob's house, so he knows."

Muriel started phoning. When she got to Mark, Sandra nudged her. Muriel put her hand over the mouth piece.

"Ask him if he's busy this evening," whispered Sandra.

Muriel asked Sandra the address of the apartment and told Mark.

She put down the phone. "He sounded like a happy puppy, says he'll be round in an hour."

"Why don't you tell the rest of them the good news in the morning?" Sandra squirmed off the couch and moved round to kneel in front of Muriel. She began to pull Muriel's borrowed robe open. "May I?" she asked.

In answer, Muriel wriggled herself to the sofa's edge."So long as we get to change places soon."

Sandra gently pushed Muriel's knees apart and kissed the inside of her thigh and whispered, "Oh you bet."

Two Muriel orgasms later, Sandra came up for air. She got up and sat on the couch again and spread her legs in invitation. She looked at the clock. "Twenty minutes honey, my turn now."

Muriel nuzzled between Sandra's legs and the girl sobbed, tendons standing out on her thighs.

"Muriel?" she said, "what was that you said about Mark, 'a lovely cock and a tireless tongue'?"

Monday, January 11, 2010

"All Aboard!" Part 3

"All Aboard!" Part 3

by Julius
Copyright 2004

Muriel didn't realise she had a splinter in her ass until the next morning when she was wriggling into her panties. Something snagged at the flimsy fabric. She felt the skin of her right buttock and sure enough she could just feel it with her finger tip.

She peered at her reflection in the full length mirror behind the bathroom door. Craning her neck she couldn't see a thing. She pulled the panties up carefully again, yes, there it was, damn!

By mid-morning the spot was sore. She had a childhood memory of a splinter in a finger getting badly infected. Remembering the time in hospital that followed, prompted her to phone the doctor's surgery. They gave her a late afternoon appointment, leaving her with a few hours to kill.

Muriel went to the computer and found Art's list of his Model Railroad buddies and copied them onto her own address book. She put an 'X' against Ernest and Mark, a query beside Bob, and sat sipping her coffee, wondering about the other fourteen. Her mind drifted to Mark and the attic the day before. The next thing she knew she was rubbing her knees together, as she remembered the previous afternoon's sweet happenings.

Four-thirty found her sitting in the waiting room. Her own doctor was out on an emergency call but, "Dr.Robertson should be able to see you after his last patient, he's not running late for a change," the receptionist told Muriel.

Twenty minutes later her name was called. The girl gestured down the hallway. "Second on the left."

The doctor looked up, smiled and said hello. He recognised her.

She in turn recognised him and said, "Well I am surprised." She'd never realised he was a doctor. To her he was just 'the quiet one' and she was sure his name was John.

"It's Muriel, the railroad hostess!" he said, getting up, looking surprised.

They exchanged pleasantries, him saying how marvellous her catering was and her saying she'd not realised he was a doctor.

Finally he asked her what the problem was and Muriel explained about the splinter. "Would you like a nurse present?" he asked her.

"I'm sure you'll behave," she said.

"Well, get up on the table and pull the jeans down enough for me to take a look." He turned and picked up her file and flicked through it.

Muriel liked the quiet John and thought, well he is one of the group, who knows? She unzipped her jeans and let them fall to the floor and climbed onto the table with its crackling new layer of paper. She lay face down and said, "Okay, you can look now."

He turned and moved across to her. She had her head to one side facing the wall. Nice legs, he thought, and a very nice ass too! John had always thought her a most attractive woman and one of the bonuses of Art's meetings was seeing Muriel. He was very shy around women, an odd trait in a doctor, he knew. She was always so delightfully dressed and her full figure never failed to draw his eyes. The urge to grab and cuddle Muriel at the meetings was all but overwhelming sometimes. As a result, he almost unconsciously avoided her.

Muriel waited for his touch, and realised her stomach had gone all aflutter. A strange coincidence, meeting him like this. She jumped when he touched her.

"Is that sore?"

"No," she said, "I was miles away, made me jump that's all."

"Well there are at least three tiny splinters here. Shouldn't be a problem." He dabbed with an alchohol swab and picked up a pair of tweezers.

John found himself taking longer than he needed, rather enjoying himself. He was erect as soon as his fingers touched her. She did have the most exquisite ass! Her panties, pink, brief and decorated with fluffy lace crossed each buttock diagonally. She smelled of lavender and he wanted to caress her derriere forever.

Oh God! The touch of his hands, the feel of his breath on her skin. She wished she had a thousand splinters in her backside. Muriel squirmed as he probed with the tips of the tweezers. His fingers dug gently into her flesh as he worked.

Poor John! His pressing fingers opened her buttocks slightly and he found himself staring at the spot where the pink panty-fabric disappeared between her thighs. He wanted to open her further. He wanted to kiss this ass, to sink his teeth gently into her flesh and bite her, nibble and taste. He wanted, he wanted -he wanted her.

Muriel was in sweet agony, needing to squeeze her thighs together, needing to grind her mound against the firm padding of the table. Muriel was sure she was wet. And still he touched and probed. Oh heavens! Let him do this to her forever she thought, but knew she couldn't lie still much longer.

She heard herself say almost dreamily, "That's nice," and wanted to bite her tongue because he stopped.

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding shocked. John was embarassed and not a little concerned and wished suddenly that the nurse was there.

She heard the worry in his voice and turned her head to look back at him, "It's alright doctor, I'm not complaining. Your hands felt nice that's all." It wasn't all by any means, she wanted more doctoring, lots more doctoring.

John had never experienced this flood of emotions with a patient before. He bent again, anxious to get the last and smallest of the three splinters out and get her out of his office. He was very aware of his insistant erection. A sudden knock at the door and through it, a female voice.

"I'm off home now doctor, will you lock up?"

John started to reply but his first word came out as a croak, he coughed and managed, "Alright Pat, thank you, goodnight."

The surprise had brought him back to reality and he told Muriel, "Well, that's it, the last one."

She didn't move and he said, "Any other problems?"

"Well doctor, since you ask, yes there is," she said, still facing the wall.

"Yes?" he prompted.

"It's embarassing really. I've not been having orgasms now for the longest time. I wonder if there's anything you could do to help me."

John was caught offguard by her question.

He wasn't married, had no current girlfriend. A shy young man whose sex life was pretty well zero. Most of his relief was self-administered. No! he thought, make that all my relief. He gazed down at the cute ass, at the pretty pink panties pulled high to get at the splinter, the backs of the soft thighs. Moments before he'd had his hands on that ass, his cock straining in his pants. Now this stunning woman was asking if he could help her with her orgasm deficiency. Dear Lord, he thought, how I'd love to try!

She spoke, bringing him back from dreamland, "It's Art," and he realised she meant her husband who had the glorious model railroad, "that damned law practice of his. When he's not buried in work he plays with his trains, can't remember the last time he lit my fires."

"Have you considered counselling? Perhaps the two of you should go together. I have a couple of addresses,"John said, going to his desk.

Muriel wriggled over onto her back, the paper crackling and rustling. She saw him turn, his mouth opened, his gaze fixed on her crotch. He blushed. She suddenly thought him very sweet. John could be barely past thirty she thought. She drew up her knees and let them fall wide apart.

Poor John. All his professional poise fell away, the naked thighs, the pink panties. He opened his mouth to protest, to tell her this was inappropriate behaviour but she spoke before he could.

"I don't really have an orgasm problem," she said and her hand slid down over her belly, over her mound and cupped it, "I'm just so bored with doing it myself."

His instincts were all at war now. Here, now? Doctor, patient? His arousal was so great and oh those little panties, that sweet ass.

"The office is closed, you're off duty and my splinters are gone. You did ask if I had any other problems. Perhaps I should ask you if you have any?"

When she spoke that last sentence her eyes went to his crotch and John knew his erection was plain to see. He almost groaned aloud. He tried to fight back and said, "I'm not sure about this, the doctor patient thing. You're married. I'm ..." his voice trailed off.

"I can come with just nipple stimulation you know, "Muriel's hands went to her breasts, "Is that common with women in your experience?"

She started unbuttoning her blouse and at that point John knew his struggle was lost.

Muriel had had no thoughts about having sex with anyone when she'd left the house. The days since therailroad club meeting had left her more than satisfied. But the chance meeting with this good-looking young doctor had got her feeling warm and wanting again. Now she wanted him with what was almost desperation. And, she reminded herself, he was on the list, one of the seventeen.

Her blouse undone, she asked, "Would you like to try? Just in the interests of medical science of course."

John moved to the end of the table. He stood looking down at her face. She looked up at him wide eyed, smiling and slipped one bra strap off, then the other. She peeled the cups down and her breasts flowed apart, widespread with their heaviness. His soft groan delighted her. Reaching up she pressed the heavy breasts together with the heels of her hand.

The air was cool and John marvelled at the size of her jutting nipples. Fascinated, he watched as she took them between forefingers and thumbs and squeezed them, pulling on them. She pulled her breasts into sharp points and he thought it must surely hurt. Her eyes closed and her knees clamped together. He could see the tendons of her thighs tighten. She groaned. John's cock swelled, his erection was almost painful.

"Want to try?" she murmured.

Somewhere in his head a little voice told him this was his last chance to come to his senses. His hands ignored the voice, reached out and cupped the sides of her breasts.

How soft she is, he thought.

How warm his hands are, she thought.

She reached over her head for his zipper, found the tag and slid it down.

His hands stilled on her breasts and his eyes closed in blissful anticipation.

Muriel pushed herself towards him with her heels, the paper tore and she pushed again and her head slid off the end of the table. Now she could see what she was doing. She undid his belt and the hook at his waistband. His pants slid to the floor. His briefs were more difficult. "Oh my!" she exclaimed as his erection appeared.

"Oh God!" exclaimed John as her hands took hold of his cock.

He was big, very big and Muriel felt a glorious thrill run through her body knowing this lovely thing was almost hers. But, she was a strong-willed girl and asked, "Now doctor, what about those nipple induced orgasms we were talking about?"

Her gentle hands left his cock and John realised he might have to pleasure her first.

Muriel hadn't wanted to let go of his cock but she knew that a girl has to be in control. She gasped as his fingers tweaked her nipples, the jolts of energy going due south, straight between her legs.

John's arousal had become wickedly intense and just touching those nipples of hers added to the sense of pressure in his cock.

Muriel was in heaven. Her whole being seemed to focus on her nipples. She rolled onto her side and said, "Come here John and use your cock on them."

He moved back around the table, his cock inches from her breasts. She grabbed it and rubbed its head across her left nipple. Pre-cum made her nipple slick and he moaned at the tight grip of her hand and the sensation of being rubbed against her breast. "Here, you do it,"she said hoarsely.

Muriel grabbed her breast with her hand and squeezed, making it hard and round.

The nipple jutted and John grabbed his cock and rubbed the head back and forth across it.

She didn't know what to do, she couldn't keep still. The walls of her vagina began their clenching as an orgasm's first sweet notes sang in her body.

John began to swing his cock and hit her nipple with it. He was climbing his slope too and that glorious tightening of his scrotum signalled his climax's approach.

She sobbed and clutched both hands to her groin. Some clinical quirk from John's training froze him for themoment and he watched, his own climax pausing just short of eruption as he watched Muriel.

She was very vocal and he just stood, his hand gripping his still erect cock, as Muriel fought through her orgasm, from foetal ball to tendon stretching staightness and back again.

When finally she was done her body glistened with perspiration. She looked up at him and smiled. She reached out a small hand and took hold of his cock."Let me make his day for him," she drew John close, pulling gently on the hot rigid handle that was his erection.

He watched as her tongue and lips made slow gentle love to his cock. Her orgasm had washed away her desperation and now she took her time. He watched soft, tormenting lips draw him in. She sucked, hollow cheeked. The sight aroused him beyond belief. Her face had a wonderfully contented look as she suckled on him. Muriel's eyes never left his. Wide and green they seemed to draw him, every bit as much as her suckling mouth did.

Muriel took him to the brink and paused. She reached out her other hand and gently played with his balls. How she loved this big, heavy cock of his. She longed for it between her legs. God but she knew she was wetenough to take his size easily. She pumped gently at him, her saliva slick fist making love to him.

Twice, three times she sucked him to near-climax with that lovely mouth of hers. He was practically sobbing for release when it finally happened. He suddenly bent, crouching over her, his cock almost escaping from her lips. Then he straightened again and sobbed along "Yesssss!" He was coming. She took it all, swallowing greedily, milking frantically with her hand as if to drain him totally. He spasmed and writhed as his body tried and tried to come and come. Finally he sobbed, "Please stop, stop, oh stop, I can't come anymore."

"Shouldn't you check my ass again soon, to make surethere's no infection?" She was struggling into her jeans.

John's legs would barely support him, "I'd like to do that."

The weeks became months and suddenly it was the Thursday before the next meeting of the Railroad Group. Muriel had hunted down all but one of the seventeen. It had been a wonderful six months. Even Art had noticed her high spirits. The phone rang, it was Art, "Wonderful news Moo, they've made me a full partner," he sounded almost boyish.

"That's wonderful Art," she said, pleased for him.

"Maybe now we can spend more time together," he bubbled.

Muriel wondered if it would be her or the railroad that would benefit but told him, "I might be able to fit you in on Sundays." He laughed but Muriel was serious. Golf now took Art's Saturdays and she tended to be busy Mondays to Fridays with her group.

On Friday Art rang again, barely an hour after he'd left for the office. "Forgot to mention," he said, "we have two new members, so you'll get to meet them tomorrow."

Under the table, between her legs, Bob, twenty five weeks late was claiming his belated breakfast. And he was very good! Muriel gripped the phone tightly and wriggled to the very edge of the chair. Art was still talking.

She did hear one sentence with incredible clarity, "Sandra will be our first female member."

Bob was sooo goood! Her pussy felt about to turn inside out.

Art again, "I think she prefers girls."

"Sandra, a pretty name," she said, heart pounding, legs straight and wide and straining. A dam about to burst.

She hung up on Art before she started screaming.

Her orgasm hit her.

Slumped in the chair Muriel was very happy and very, very wet.

She'd see all her guys tomorrow, all together.

Bob kissed her left thigh and then the right. She squirmed. Her wetness felt cool as he moved under her skirt. Railroad work is tough she thought, but someone has to do it.

Cont'd in Part 4

"All Aboard!" Part 2

"All Aboard!" Part 2

by Julius
Copyright 2003

Sunday, by half past ten it was obvious Bob wasn't coming. She'd really been looking forward to him. Readying everything for breakfast and even dressing herself as a maid. 'Robert,' she thought, 'you'd better have a damned good excuse.'

She ate a lonely breakfast and tried to let herself down gently.

By one o'clock she'd wondered if Mark too had decided not to come.

To her delight he did arrive, just before two. Tall and young and shy. He looked more man than boy now, with blonde good looks and a smile that made her heart pitter patter. When she asked, he told her he could stay as long as she needed him and Muriel wondered wistfully if he would last that long. She really had work for him but nothing she couldn't have nagged Art into doing or done quite easily herself.

She'd showered around noon and still wore her pink, terry-cloth bathrobe when she answered the door. Muriel showed him through into the kitchen and made them coffee. She explained that there was a ton of boxed papers in the attic that Art wanted thrown out and there was another pile of stuff in the basement to haul up to the attic. Mark sat sipping his coffee and said he'd be happy to help. Muriel thought he looked good enough to eat.

She led the way upstairs and made him stand at the turn in the stairs while she brought the ladder down out of the attic. "There's a trick to this thing or it tries to kill you!" Muriel reached up and caught the ring and pulled. A click and the door dropped down. She caught the ladder and steadied it as it unfolded. "Art ended up with three stitches in his head the first time we used this."

Mark started up the stairs again but she motioned to him to wait. "What do you think of the outfit?" she asked, fumbling the belt of her robe undone. "I wore it specially for you."

Poor Mark gaped at her as she opened the robe. Just black bra and panties, nothing else. She stood a couple of steps above him, he just looked, lips slightly parted. His few years of necking and fumbling hadn't prepared him for this. Mark wasn't quite a virgin but so far sex had been all haste and stolen moments with young creatures who knew little more than he. Beyond that, just his left hand and his imagination. Now this! This was what his wildest dreams had been like.

The panties were barely three feet from his face. Silky things, edged in black lace. They clung to her soft contours. Brown curls escaped from the sides, some glistening coppery gold in the bright light from the small window. So much bare skin! Thighs and belly, her navel, a tiny, beckoning cave. His erection strained and swelled inside his jeans. A soft, awed "Oh!!" escaped him.

She loved his reaction. After all she was old enough to ... 'No Muriel, don't go there!' she told herself.

She turned her back to him and slipped the robe off her shoulders and let it slither to the floor. Mark swallowed and shifted his feet nervously. Her spare pounds showed on her ass and the panties were too small to cover her. But she looked good and she knew it. The panties crossed her buttocks diagonally and disappeared between them. Mark thought her unutterably sexy and beautiful. His cock ached and his heart hammered. Oh how his cock ached! Mark was suddenly lost and didn't know what he wanted ... he just knew he wanted, desperately.

Muriel moved away and said "Let's see what needs moving up there." She started up the ladder. Mark moved to follow, his hand down his jeans getting his rigid cock more comfortable. His foot tangled in her bathrobe and he almost fell.

Muriel stood halfway up the ladder peering around the attic while Mark gazed up at her. Free of her gaze he feasted his eyes on her thighs and the wonderful mixof tight, black fabric and bare skin that was her ass. He wanted to kiss the backs of her knees but somehow couldn't get up the nerve.

She peeked down at him. He seemed to be enjoying the spectacle. Muriel rejoiced in her own arousal, she was going deliciously mad inside. That intense happiness that seems to bubble in the chest suddenly washed over her. Mark's youth and innocence struck her too and at that moment she realised there was more to this than satisfying her own needs. This had to be good for him too, she had to make it magic for Mark. Perhaps change him from callow youth into a gentle and skilled lover. What a sweet challenge!

Mark moved back as Muriel came down and turned and stood on the ladder's bottom step. Now he was treated to a close up of her bosom. The bra dated from a Muriel thirty pounds younger and it really wasn't adequate for the job any more. Her big breasts threatened to spill out over the tops of the cups. Mark could actually feel the heat of her on his face. The soft swells and the sweet, deep cleavage between were the most beautiful things he'd ever seen.

"My dressing like this doesn't bother you does it Mark?" she asked him, knowing very well how it was affecting him. The shape of the front of his jeans told her that.

"No of course not," he lied. By now Mark was very much bothered by Muriel's clothing or rather her lack of it. He was desperately aroused. He wanted to just grab her and do things but his awful shyness and lack of experience left him helpless to move.

Muriel of course had been enjoying the effect she was having on him, his very obvious arousal. It was so very flattering, so very, very flattering. Frightening too, a tiger by the tail! Her arousal was mounting. She felt the pulse of her heart all through her, the heat of her own need glowing hotly betwixt throat and nipples. She found herself gently rubbing one knee against the other, she was actually trembling.

Mark rubbed his palms on his jeans. She saw him shake his head and swallow hard. He seemed almost close to tears.

"Hey, Mark, take it easy." she said softly.

His eyes met hers. He started to speak but no sound came. He gestured at her with his hands and his eyes swept down over her and back up. "I, oh God! I want..."

"We both want Mark, I'm feeling what you're feeling," she told him quietly.

She moved away from the ladder and took his elbow and turned him to lean his back on the steps. Muriel reached out and unsnapped his jeans and caught the tag of his zipper with a finger nail. She whispered, "Let me help, just be still, just relax baby." As she began to ease the zipper down his body went rigid. She froze too, he was about going to come.

'Not now, not like this ... not just yet!' she begged silently. They both stood like statues. Slowly, slowly Mark relaxed, the crisis had passed ... for the moment.

Again she began working the zipper down, virtually one tooth at a time. When she had it open all the way she slid his jeans down his long legs. He wore white boxer shorts and now his erect cock had become, to Muriel's hungry eyes, a huge ridge. A wet patch at the top of this ridge glistened, proclaiming his arousal. She licked her lips and with hands that trembled, reached for the elastic waistband. As she hooked her fingers into his shorts his hands moved to stop her but then he stopped half-way and relaxed. Muriel gave a little smile, he was hers! Slowly, carefully , she worked them off his hips and finally slid them down his thighs.

"Oh God! It's beautiful!" she breathed.

"Really?" croaked a disbelieving Mark.

"Oh yes, beautiful."

Muriel had never studied a cock this close up but she did now. She wanted to touch but didn't dare, Mark was balanced on the edge, she knew. The almost shiny look of the tight stretched skin. Veins, small and large following their random courses up and down the lovely column. The swollen head, dark red, with its perfect, leaking little slit! She licked her lips and felt a sudden, very real hunger. Her whole body seemed to strain towards this thing. She wanted it, needed it. Her hands itched to touch, her lips swollen and lovely, begged to kiss and suck.

A little of the tension seemed to ebb away from Mark and she finally dared to touch him. She closed her small hand around him. Her fingers didn't go all the way! His heat and his hardness amazed her. He was so big and she felt suddenly so small and a little quiver of fear hit her. Her thighs pressed together defensively.

He moaned at her touch and she looked up at him. His gaze was on her. She released him for a moment and drooled saliva into her palm and grabbed his cock. Squeezing him tightly, began to stroke him. He sobbed, "No! God no! You'll make me come!"

"Yes Mark I will," she told him, "on purpose ... you're too close now, too aroused for us to play."

"But...!" That one word as all he managed before he did come. His helpless need had overwhelmed him.

With his teeth gritted and his body quaking he jetted his come at Muriel. She grabbed his cock with her other hand too and just crouched happily over him, letting him come ... how could she stop him?

She milked him urgently, happily. It was on her face, in her hair, under her chin and still he came. Over her throat and breasts. She was laughing and telling him it was alright, it was wonderful.

Poor Mark couldn't believe what was happening! Trying to say 'sorry!' while coming uncontrollably isn't easy but he tried. Finally her words reached him. She wasn't angry with him at all! In fact she seemed delighted! When he was finally finished he reached awkwardly for his shorts to try and wipe away some of the mess. But she stopped him.

"Don't you even think of it! I love it. I love it all over me," then she added seriously, "besides it's good for my complexion."

"Really?" he asked in surprise.

She fought back the smile, "Really," she told him and gently rubbed his come over her breasts with her fingertips, making her skin shine with his wetness.

Muriel's arousal was now frightening and she glanced down at Mark's softening cock with longing. It was her turn to not know what to do. She motioned Mark to move aside and went up the ladder and sat on the edge of the hole looking down at him between her knees.

He looked up. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

"Sorry, why?" her voice gentle.

"For losing control just now."

"Don't be sorry Mark. What we just did was beautiful and natural. I loved doing it to you, loved watching you come. Besides, it felt good didn't it?"

He gazed up at her for a long time and finally said, "It was wonderful!"

She thought for a while. Her body was crying out for loving and before she could stop herself, asked him, "Would you like to come up here and do the same thing to me Mark?"

Surprise, and maybe panic, seemed to flicker across his face. "You mean ...?"

"That's just what I mean Mark," she said smiling down at him.

He moved towards the ladder.

There were fifteen boxes to be thrown out and she grabbed the first and struggled it onto her thighs. When his face appeared above the box she slid it towards him.

Confused he murmured, "I thought you wanted to, wanted me to ..."

"I'm teasing me," she explained, "sometimes the waiting is fun, waiting and waiting until you think you'll go mad."

"I guess," he murmured and took the box. She had to open her legs wide to let him struggle the cardboardbox down past her. Six boxes later and she was sweating, it was hot up in the attic.

She called down to him to bring them a couple of beers from the fridge. While he was gone she lay back and lifted her legs and struggled out of the panties. She glanced down between her opened legs. The bulb hanging above her head lit her perfectly. She fought the urge to touch herself and wished he'd hurry. Her longing wasn't going away.

Mark struggled awkwardly up the steps with a beer in either hand. He handed one to Muriel and then tipped his own bottle. He caught sight of her exposed pussy in mid swallow, choked and fought for a moment then turned enough to miss her and sprayed beer across the attic.

She ran her fingertips down over her belly and into her curls. "Would you like to stroke her?"

To Muriel's delight his cock swelled and lifted in one slow steady movement to stand rigid and perfect. It was superb and she yearned to do everything to it, to have it do everything to her. Now Muriel's control was slipping. Her body seemed to vibrate, every nerve focused between her legs, she'd melt soon and simply run hot and wet out of herself.

Mark reached out cautiously and ran the backs of his fingers over her curls. "Oh wow!" he said softly.

She wriggled her buttocks to the edge of the hole, not caring about splinters and simply lay back on the rough dusty boards that floored the attic. "Now would you like to kiss her?"

'Please God, let him know what to do!' she begged silently. All she felt was a desperate want, a want centered between her legs and up inside. An itch that wasn't an itch but oh, she had to have it scratched.

To her blissful amazement the next thing she felt was his face, his mouth between her legs. He was licking her, slowly, wonderfully. She cried out so loudly that he stopped and raised his head asking what was wrong,

"Nothing, nothing at all, don't stop, don't ever stop!"

He was not too rough, not too gentle and she wondered if he was more experienced than she'd guessed. She struggled her legs up and let them rest on his shoulders, her thighs hugging his head.

Any thoughts she'd had of teaching him, guiding him vanished. Teaching could wait for another time. His tongue on her, in her was enough magic at her level of arousal. Her body took over as Muriel began her climb and she forgot everything but the heaven she was in. She clung and thrust, bouncing her ass on the boards using him, losing herself.

Her coming was an incredible thing. She bucked and humped and struggled. Poor Mark thought he'd drown or suffocate as she held him with her legs, ground herself against his mouth and climaxed.

She sobbed and squirmed on the rough boards. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she forced his mouth against her. Then she was done, it was over and she was begging him to stop. He lifted his mouth from herand she fell back bonelessly limp. A beautiful silence with only her sobbing breath at its centre.

His disbelieving voice reached her from far away, "I love the way you smell and taste."

She smiled, "I love the way you lick!"

Mark stood on the ladder, his left hand gently stroking his cock and wanting more. He gazed at her wet-curled centre. Her legs spread wide, her pinkness open, glistening.

Finally Muriel struggled up onto her elbows and looked at him. She saw his hand moving, the need in his eyes. His cock was so beautiful, so ready. Her brain asked her pussy and her pussy answered with a subtle contraction. She wanted more of him, more of that!

Mark watched as she struggled to sit up and then she got over onto her hands and knees. She bent her elbows and her breasts, still just in their bra, were flattened against the dusty planks. Her ass was high in the air as she signalled her readiness with the timeless pose and added the word "Please!".

He scrambled up behind her and, holding her hips with his hands slid himself in.

'She's so tight!' thought Mark.

'He's so big!' thought Muriel.

It was an almost gentle coupling. Mark pumped slowly. Her tightness, her milking spasms so exquisite. She was like nothing he'd ever imagined.

Muriel made love to him with her pussy, revelling in the way he filled her, opened her, plumbed her depths.There was a gentleness in his beautiful hunger. He filled her completely, length and thickness. She'd never felt so complete. He'd withdraw until just the head remained in her and then thrust, long and slow, deep, deep, deep. Utterly perfect, she wanted to scream, to cry, wanted it to never end, never.

They seemed to bring each other to climax. Perfect harmony, prefect lovers. 'Impossible' her mind told her. His first spasm triggered her. He shuddered and she felt his first gush inside her and her pussy answered, milking his cock. As he jetted and pulsed she ground her ass back against his thrusts, sobbing and begging through an endless orgasm.

They collapsed onto the rough boards of the attic, him heavy on top of her. Still he thrust and squirmed against her soft, sweet ass. Her buttocks clenched and writhed under him working on the softening cock still buried in her. He nuzzled his face into her neck, into her hair and told her she was beautiful.

Muriel stood and watched as he dressed. How small, how cute his cock was now. She was naked and filthy andhis eyes never left her. She felt his juices oozing down between her nearly-closed thighs. He thought her the most lovely creature in the world. Her breasts had somehow failed to escape the bra completely but the overflow was dust-smudged from the attic boards, a nipple peeped shyly, like a rising sun. He wanted very much to get his hands on those breasts, to see, to touch, to suckle her nipples. He saw the glisten between her thighs and knew it was from him.

"Can we ...?" a pleading question from him.

"Oh yes we can! Phone me Mark." She wanted more of this too!

She kissed him goodbye at the door.

The mirror by the door showed her a woman whose hair was a mess, whose body was dirt streaked. But the woman smiled at her and looked wonderfully happy. She had cobwebs in her hair and maybe even a little splinter or two in her ample ass. Was this really theMuriel she knew?

"Oh yes!" her reflection said.

Cont'd in Part 3

"All Aboard!" Part 1

"All Aboard!" Part 1

by Julius
Copyright 2003

Muriel had certainly never intended to screw Art's entire Model Railroad Club membership! In fact she still hasn't, hasn't screwed them all that is. But she's a game girl and this is how it all got started.

Things conspired against Muriel, (or was that for Muriel?), as things sometimes do. Three things really; Ernest was a widower, Ernest brought wine to the meeting and the bathroom had two doors. All that sounds a little confusing I suppose, maybe I should back up a little.

Oh yes, there was another factor, so really it was four events or things which did the conspiring ...Muriel had bought herself a vibrator. Anyway, let me set the scene.

Muriel was, is, plump and cute and nearer fifty than she'd ever admit. She suits her plumpness and often dresses to display herself to the best advantage, that is, flaunts her assets. Muriel would be truly stunning if she shed maybe thirty pounds. But, packed into something tight or short or brief or all three she's a real head turner just the way she is.

Art, her husband, was okay, visually at least. Performance-wise Art left much to be desired which left Muriel desiring much. He was a lawyer, desperately trying to get himself on the company letterhead. He worked awe-inspiring hours both at his office at work and his other office at home. Any spare time went into his model railroad. That just left sleep, nothing left for poor Muriel.

So Art was why she'd bought the vibrator the previous Wednesday. Her friend Julie had talked her into it and they had spent a delicious hour at the Triple Exxx Sexxx Store across town. It was purple and silicone and longer than Art and thicker than Art. The batteries lasted longer than Art. It made Muriel very happy and Art was suddenly, unknowingly, totally redundant ... well, except for his money of course.

Railroad Meeting Saturday followed Vibrator Buying Wednesday. Muriel was puzzled to find herself wonderfully satiated yet oddly horny on Wednesday and Thursday and Friday and Saturday. The vibrator was satisfying her needs but it had awakened something else. Itches that double A batteries somehow couldn't scratch even though she was on the fourth pair.

Noon saw the house ready for the meeting. Art's Railroad Meetings were the best of the group. He had a sizeable and complicated layout in a warm and comfortable room in the basement, everyone agreed. But the catering by Muriel was what really drew the guys. Muriel's coffee was wonderful, her hot snacks to die for, her cakes and cookies disappeared like morning mist on a sunny day.

They liked her sweet, flirty personality. They liked her cleavage too and the tight skirts she always wore. They tended to spend more time Muriel watching than train watching. Art had two meetings per year and if canvassed, no doubt the membership would have voted for ten more. Muriel wouldn't have minded, she loved the cooking and found the flattering attentions of the men very heady stuff. But she did sometimes wish Art would notice her efforts and direct more of his enthusiasm towards her.

But this Saturday Muriel was going to start her own Railroad Group. She didn't realise it at the time of course. It would be Ernest and Ernest's wine that would set things in motion.

Ernest was the last to arrive. Everyone was downstairs, leaving her alone in the kitchen. Apologising for his lateness he handed her the wine and gave her quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

She liked Ernest. He'd been a widower for about sixmonths and she sensed his loneliness. They flirted mildly at the meetings. Nearly all the members flirted with her but Ernest was her favourite. They were both lonely in their different ways. She rummaged in a drawer and handed him the corckscrew. "Let's have a glass."

They stood in the kitchen and talked and sipped their wine. Second glasses followed. No one came up from downstairs. A buzz of conversation and occasional laughter with the ever present sound of the trains running were the only reminders that they weren't alone.

Ernest poured the last of the wine into their glasses. "I should have brought another bottle," he said with a chuckle.

"Maybe not," murmured Murial. She pushed away from the counter and found herself swaying just a little. There was a warm glow in her and when she glanced at Ernest she felt that warmth begin to focus somehere below her belly button. Muriel had been horny for three days now, time to do something more about it! She reached for Ernest's hand. Too surprised to resist, he let himself be led. Oh but her ass! Wiggling divinely in the short and deliciously tight, black, leather skirt; Ernest badly wanted to touch.

In the bathroom she locked both doors and stood looking up at him. Ernest was tall and slim. He was balding and grey. She guessed him at sixty-one or two and thought him very handsome. She wanted him, she wanted him very badly.

Ernest was nervous. He wanted her. The wine had loosened him up nicely but this was Art's wife in Art's bathroom. But Art's wife wore a white blouse sheer enough to show her white bra and unbuttoned enough to reveal the swells of her breasts. As he looked down into that cleavage he saw her fingers come up and undo another button. Ernest's erection grew happily!

Part of Muriel's mind was asking her what the hell she thought she was doing. But her body was running things. The heat that seemed focussed between her legs and the delicious glow in her chest seemed to explain the phrase 'bitch in heat'.

She slowly unbuttoned the blouse and tugged it out of her waistband. It hung open and Ernest just stared at her breasts which threatened to spill from her bra. He heard himself say "They're beautiful."

She wanted to lift them out, to have him touch her, fondle her but this had to be quick. Her arousal seemed to grow by the second. She wriggled her skirt high up her thighs and struggled up and sat on the vanity. She reached out and grabbed the top of his pants and pulled him towards her.

Ernest's caution was gone. He couldn't believe how aroused he'd become. Her overflowing breasts, her nyloned legs, the heat of her, her perfume. Without a second thought he unbuckled and unzipped. Pants and underwear around his ankles he stood with his erection proclaiming his need.

Muriel almost cried out at the sight of it. A real cock, a big real cock and it was for her. She strained to open her thighs wider against the hem of the skirt. She wore no panties and a shock of dark brown curls marked the junction of her thighs.

Ernest moved closer, Muriel wriggled her ass nearer the edge to meet him. She was wet and ready, how could she not be? He was big, she was tight and exquisitely hot. Oh the joy as he felt himself slide into her heat. She hooked her legs around him and drew herself onto him. She clung to him with her arms, her heels digging, bruising into the backs of his thighs. His hunger was intense and he fought for release. Muriel matched his eagerness and struggled on his impaling cock, squirming her ass on the vanity. She writhed and humped, utterly lost in the joy of having a hungry cock ramming into her.

Their loving was strangely silent, both aware of the people in the basement below them. But there was no way to silence their breathing. Breathing? Both were fighting for breath, gasping, all but sobbing. Sweating too, it was running down their faces. The bathroom small and warm seemed like an oven.

Ernest was all but certain he'd never make it, never reach orgasm, never come. He pumped desperately into Muriel, wanting, wanting, wanting.

Muriel was in heaven as this man's wonderful cock drove endlessly into her. How she'd missed the joy of a full pussy, a man between her thighs, someone hungry for her, somebody just plain, gloriously fucking her. She wanted to shout, scream, yell dirty things. She did hiss the words in his ear, begging him never to stop, to just keep on and on and on.

Ernest tried, God how he tried! Sweat streamed down his face, he knew his heart must burst soon. His thighs ached. He couldn't, he couldn't, he just couldn't make it. And then Muriel came, her pussy rippling and clenching at his cock.

She sobbed and whispered "Oh God yes!" over and over in his ear. Ernest lowered his head in defeat and saw her breasts heaving and sweat slick. The deep cleavage between them so utterly beautiful. Some wonderful hormonal flicker made the connection and the contractions started. He was coming!

"Oh God, I'm coming!" he moaned in her ear. And he did, he came and came and came and Muriel felt every sweet spasm as his cock swelled and spurted inside her.

"Yes baby yes!" She sighed, cuddling him to her, aware of the glorious completeness she felt. Surely nothing had ever felt so good! They clung together hearts beating furiously.

Finally they parted. He stood back on trembling legs and smiled at her. His cock, small and limp now, drooled down his thigh. Muriel's breasts, seeming to overflow the bra cups, shone with perpiration. They wanted to laugh aloud but dared not.

"I've got to go, they'll be wanting their food." She unlocked the door to the bedroom and paused. "That was wonderful!"

The look on his face told how it had been for him and both knew they'd do this again. She slipped away into the bedroom. When she looked in the mirror she couldn't believe her eyes. She looked as if she'd jus tbeen ... well, she had!

Ten minutes later a glowing, happy Muriel called, "Food's ready you guys!" from the top of the basement stairs.

Art led his guests up to the kitchen and found Ernest with a mouthful of sausage roll. "Hi Ernest! You're looking well these days."

Ernest swallowed and greeted his host, "Can't complain Art, can't complain."

Five o'clock and the goodbyes and thank yous were being said and Art was explaining to everyone that he was flying out west on a week's business that evening. Ernest and Muriel exchanged glances. She gave him a little nod.

Something had happened to Muriel that Saturday. Not just the glorious release she'd found with Ernest but some restraint seemed to have slipped undone deep inside her. She heard a quiet voice stammering thanks beside her. It was Mark. Mark, barely twenty, usually came with his father but, for some reason, he was here today on his own. Slim and shy and deliciously well mannered. Muriel was fond of the boy who was becoming a man. He'd been coming to these meetings for maybe five years now.

"Are you busy tomorrow afternoon Mark?" she asked him.

Mark shook his head and Muriel said, "I need a strong young man for a few jobs."

When Muriel got back from the airport she went to the computer and sure enough, Art had the Railroad Group's addresses and phone numbers listed.

"Oh my!" she murmured, "seventeen of them, who shall I have for breakfast?"

She licked her lips and reached for the phone.

Cont'd in Part 2