Message-ID: <590.repost$980813050749@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "Paris Waterman" Subject: NEW: Helen & I Chapters 7-10 MFF Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Content-Type: text/plain Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19980810201850.3609.qmail@hotmail.com> Helen & I By Paris Waterman © Paris Waterman 1998   CHAPTER 7 Forty-five minutes later we entered Fuzzie's, a downtown restaurant with a good lounge. Helen's wearing a deep green sarong and the top of a black bikini. She is definitely a knockout. There's a lot of cleavage. She's not wearing any underwear. I can tell I'm the envy of every guy in the place, since every male and several female heads seem to have directed their attention to Helen. (Am I a male chauvinist, or what?) I'm watching, somewhat amused and very proud, as several wives or girlfriends start jabbing elbows into their men to recapture their attention. Mentally, I speak to all these women, telling them to remind their guys about how good Helen looked after they've gone to bed. They may revive some dormant dicks. Oh, yes, I was enjoying myself. We sat at the bar and ordered a Dewars scotch and water for Helen and an Absolute martini on-the-rocks with a twist of lemon for myself. Twenty minutes later we moved to a booth in the darker recesses of the restaurant where we chose to sit side by side. Helen ordered mackerel in a marinara sauce, with zucchini and squash. When it arrived, it made for a very colorful plate. I went for a major league sized shrimp cocktail, followed by a light salad. And, of course, a second round of drinks was needed. Our waitress was a really cute blonde. I said as much to Helen. She looked at me over the rim of her glass and raised her eyebrows as if to say "Oh?" Stung, and surprised by the gesture, I attempted to justify myself. "Really, I like her, what about you?" "Let's wait and see," she responded mysteriously, and took a lusty bite of her mackerel, pausing between chews to erotically lick some marinara sauce from her lips. Where was this leading, I wondered. The sarong had fallen open; exposing her long tanned inner thigh. She didn't bother to fix the sarong. She appeared to be weighing my comment about the waitress. "Would you like to have us both in bed," she asked finally, looking directly into my eyes, "I wouldn't mind if you did." I reached for my martini, racing to formulate the right response to her question. Was this a test? Was Helen sincere? Was I in hump heaven? Quickly, I reached a decision. If I guessed wrong about this, I consoled myself, I could grovel appropriately to regain her good graces. I swallowed some Absolute, which now seemed more water than vodka and said: "She's awfully attractive," keeping my expression sober, "I think the two of you would complement each other in many ways, that is, if she has half the sex drive you do." "Oh, cut the crap," Helen began, "You love the idea, and I feel like experimenting. Let's start foolin' around right here and I'll be able to figure out how hot that makes her. If we do it right we can have her in our bed tomorrow night . . .. Not tonight. Tonight belongs to me alone." There was nothing to say but "Let's go for it."   CHAPTER 8 Helen observed the waitress had begun her approach back to our table to check on our drinks, and in sotto voice, that I kiss her. As I reached for her, Helen pulled herself up in the booth and let the sarong fall away from her leg completely now, exposing it nearly to the hip. The very edge of the dark triangle between her legs was visible above the sloping curve of her naked thigh. The gesture seemed to be deliberate in that it was impossible for the waitress to miss. We kissed, open mouthed, our tongues trying desperately to switch mouths, while the waitress stood mesmerized in place. As the kiss continued, I had an inspiration, and languidly reached out and began to caress the waitress's calf. She trembled, but did not move, nor did she say anything. As we broke off our kiss, I moved my hand higher to her lower thigh, and spoke to her. "Ah, good timing. Another round please," I said as I removed my hand. "Yeesss sir, I'll be right back." she stammered, stumbling as she started to leave, but managing to catch herself in time. "Jim," Helen said, "that was great! I'm sure she's hot now. When she brings back the drinks do it, or something like it again." I turned away from Helen to follow the Waitress's firm ass as she wove her way to the bar, "and what will you be doing when she returns?" "This," she replied, reaching down and opening my fly, to withdraw my cock. Two strokes and a good squeeze and I was fully erect. "Okay?" she said coolly, and she touched her tongue into her scotch, never taking her eyes off me. "Actually, this won't be my first sexual encounter with another woman." She tossed her head, and her auburn hair jumped up only to settle quickly back in place. "When I was in college my roommate and I got back late one night after a party. I went to sleep immediately, only to wake up and realize she was in bed with me. She was naked and was touching my breasts. She started to take my panties off. I let her. I was completely passive at first, letting her do the work. Then after a while, I began touching her too, gently, every small movement an incredible experience, that I found astonishingly pleasurable. It was bizarre, like touching myself. I remember two special things: the weight of her breasts . . . the subtle change in texture that became the nipple, and the little hollow place inside her thigh, near her vulva. I knew how I liked that touch, so I knew what I was doing to her and how she must have felt. I have not done it since. It's time to enjoy a woman again, but this time I want you to share the intimacy with me." Still slowly stoking my cock, she looked down at her glass and poked at her ice a moment, shoving it around in a swirl. I caught a movement off to the side. "Here she comes," I said, wondering how long this idea had been fermenting in that active mind of hers. The waitress was dressed casually, white tailored shorts and a white safari shirt. She served our drinks in a somewhat subdued manner. I replaced my hand on her thigh as Helen began talking to her. She fidgeted in her cute cuffed shorts, like a reprimanded schoolgirl, but did not turn to leave. Her youthful breasts required no help to create a seductive cleavage. Had she undone a button or two before returning? Her permed ginger hair was full and bouncy around her face, which even when expressing confusion as it was now, was a seductive attraction to either sex. She kept glancing away from Helen's face, drawn first to Helen's hand which was slowly milking my cock, and then to Helen's now almost unobstructed view of her cunt. I lost track of Helen's conversation with her, simply because there was no objection as my hand rose closer to the V between her thighs. My fingers were now under her shorts. They were tight shorts and my operating room was limited, but I felt the dampness within non-the-less. She sighed, a sure indication of compliance, as I slowly withdrew to a lower level, but maintained contact with her thigh at all times. Her name is Anne. I got that much from the conversation. Helen said something else to her that I didn't catch, and closing her sarong, leaned forward, exposing her breasts almost to the nipples as she rose up from the booth. They headed for the ladies room together as though they were old friends. Alone, I replaced Bubba, and checked my watch, suddenly concerned about getting up for work in the morning, then working out a fabricated story to explain my absence in the event . . .. They are gone about 25 minutes and Helen has this self-assured look when they return. Anne places herself in a position where I can easily return to caressing her thigh. As I do Anne smiles down at me, while running a hand though her hair, "I'd love to join you guys after work, but I'm meeting someone tonight. I'm off tomorrow though." Helen jumps in saying: "That's great. Tomorrow at 8. We'll pick you up here at Fuzzie's Okay?" Anne agrees. "Tomorrow at 8 it is." Wistfully I remove my hand from its illicit travels and place it in Helen's lap, working my way under her sarong. She's soaking wet. Annie following my hand with her eyes grins again and says goodnight. I leave a preposterous tip and we leave for Helen's. Back at Helen's, she asks if I want a nightcap. I decline, "I think I'll pass. I'm going to need everything I can muster up for tomorrow's meeting. Helen laughed and squeezed my privates. "You'll be fine. I have plenty of toys to keep all of us going for as long as we need to go." That did it, self-imposed curfew be damned, I was ready to go again, but she ushered me to the door and kissed me goodnight. I got home around two, wondering if Anne was already filling in for me.   CHAPTER 9 The next day, I drove past joggers sweating in the hazy, late afternoon heat as they pounded, loped, plodded, and briskly walked along the paths that ran between the winding drive and the pines of the densely wooded park separating Helen and I. My meeting, a success, behind me, I was free to ponder other matters. I thought about Anne and I wondered about Helen. I parked the Wagoneer in the lot, and walked down the hot asphalt drive and around to Helen's apartment entrance. I was on time. Helen greeted me warmly; her soft silken lips opened against mine, tongues mingled and our body's ground firmly against each other. She was wearing a cinnamon hued smock with a dove-colored apron, but I didn't smell anything cooking. I continued to grope away at her lush body until I felt something on her left nipple. It was a ring. She was wearing a ring through her nipple! "Did you have that done today?" I asked, totally bewildered. "No," she smirked in reply, " I can remove it whenever I want. My nipple's pierced, haven't you noticed?" Evading the question, I told her how good she looked. She laughed and said, "Good enough to eat?" I laughed, whipped out my handkerchief, and said, "Sure, I've even brought my own napkin." Helen laughed, as she pushed me away, "Well maybe later, but right now we've got work to do." Leaving me standing there, she left the room, turning her gorgeous red head to say, "Take off all your clothes! Get Bubba warmed up. I'll be right back" I was happy to comply. From the next room she called out, "Come into the spare room." Another first for me, I followed her voice into what appeared to be a workshop of sorts. Basic tools, pallets, frames and art implements of all types were scattered around. It was not untidy exactly, but appeared to be supporting a series of projects in progress. I was aware Helen had majored in art at college, but knew she earned a living in the world of marketing. I'd never put the two together. In the far corner there was a tub with dry plaster in it. "Err, what are you up to Helen?" I asked quietly, queasiness began to fill my stomach. Helen called into the room, "James, you're going to model for me." "What? Oh, yeah, right." She returned to the room, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. "I'm going to make a plaster cast of your cock. How big would you say it is?" I knew, but feigning shyness, claimed I didn't. "Oh, yeah, right yourself," she muttered as she grabbed a tape, and checked me out, first making sure I was at my peak. "Length a mite over 9 inches, girth, 3 1/2." (I'm only repeating what Helen said, I wouldn't want to brag about stuff like this, especially when I can honestly write about Helen and her tape.) Helen grimaced, but did not relax her grip on Bubba. "I thought you were at least a ten, but I'm not complaining. Now sit down while I mix the plaster of Paris." I couldn't resist asking if this would hurt. She came over and without using her hands, nuzzled me, partly because I'd made her laugh, partly to keep me fully erect. It worked. She had me stand up and applied the plaster to my erection, and my balls. I wondered how I was going to maintain my erection while the plaster did its thing. I asked Helen. "Thanks for reminding me," she said as she rinsed her hands in a small sink and left the room momentarily, only to return with the beads. I was a good soldier. I remained at attention for the entire operation. Eventually, she removed the plaster cast, and walah! There was my one-eyed double looking at me. Wow! I was impressed. "Hi Bubba!" I grinned. Helen said, "Now I can remember you forever," and placed the still wet cast of my cock on the mantle like a trophy. Kind of romantic, don't you think? I wondered where she kept her other memories. Then she surprised me again. "We are not having sex now. You will have to wait until we get Anne warmed up later. But you can do me a favor and help me sort out my toys for later." I walked to the toy box and looked in. This was another eye opener. There was a strap-on dildo. No, there were two! What I'd call a real biggy and a normal six-inch version. Then I found several vibrators. Did this girl love to play her instrument or what! Helen guaranteed I'd love them and began to explain how they differed. "You know Jim, a vibrator doesn't snore, or let you down, but it never says I love you either. That's why we keep you guys around." "Oh boy!" I said, "Thank God for small favors." If I remember correctly, and I was sufficiently impressed to do that, first off there was Mr. Hard Throb: looked like the real thing. About 7" with a skin like texture. Shorty came next. I'm not making this up. Shorty had a curved tip, and I'm told he's anxious to please, great for G-spot stimulation. Okay! By the way, I've found out where the G-spot is, another of life's mysteries solved. Praise the Lord. A wet/dry massager was next. Hey, you can jump from the shower to the bed without missing a beat. It has bumps to give you bumps. About 12" long, Wow! And good grief, it had an extension to reach those hard to get to places. I asked Helen if it really helped her singing in the shower. She took a fit of laughing, smacked me and threatened to have Anne and her pee on me in the shower later. I told her I'd never stand still for that and I knew how hard it was for women to hit a moving target. She continued laughing as tears rolled down her cheeks. "You'll get extra special treatment tonight for that baby!" I laughed and retorted, "threats like that I can handle." Helen explained the next toy carefully. "This is the Eager Beaver. Long and thin, it rotates and vibrates inside the vagina." I'm paying close attention and notice a miniature beaver, at the base, with a fast moving snout designed to diddle the clit. I told Helen, "You women sure have it made. No wonder you're so clean, all that time in the tub. Now I know . . .." Helen presented me with a present. A pack of 10 Maxx condoms. I asked if she expected me to use them all tonight. "Don't push it," she laughed. Then she pulled down her panties reached inside her vagina and pulled out what she called her ben wa balls. Two small metal balls linked together. She told me they stimulate her during normal daytime activities. "You wear them to your day job? " I asked. Helen smirked and said, " Sure they keep me horny all day. Sometimes I masturbate in the ladies room; sometimes I just sit at my desk and keep squeezing my legs together until I get off. But the balls also help strengthen my clitoral muscles, the better to grab your cock by, ha, ha, ha." And I thought I'd finished with school, hell, and here I am going for my Ph.D. Then I picked up an egg shaped object, with little springs (looking remarkably like stubby legs). Helen told me she sticks it inside her as an alternative to the ben wa balls and it kind of moves around in there and stimulates things a bit. "Hmmmmm!" I sang out. "A Mexican humping bean." Helen swung around and put her legs on my shoulders. "Have a burrito, Signor?" Helen whispered erotically. I was incredibly turned on! Hungrily, I went down on her warm and frothy burrito bush. What a start! And I hadn't gotten laid yet.   CHAPTER 10 By design, I left toys in various places around the apartment while Helen dressed in brown-ocher jeans, boat shoes, and leaving off her bra, pulled on a cream colored angora sweater guaranteed to stimulate her nipples, and left the apartment. After a quick bite at Shober's we drove to Frizzi's and picked up Anne, who was standing outside waiting for us. Bits and pieces about Annie: She was indeed exceptional, only nineteen, she matter-of-factly told us she's 36 D 22 38 and a real blonde. We didn't argue. I thought she was about 5'5". Her appearance was very neat. Wearing a charcoal gray, pinstriped business jacket with an expensive white skirt and matching white shoes, I could easily believe that what she possessed beneath her clothes was equally inspiring. They weren't her work clothes; she was dressed for success. I made an assumption that Anne came from money. I drove back to Helen's. The girls sat in the back. There was no fooling around. We arrived at the apartment, where music was playing softly. I thought it might be Antonio Carlos Jobin, this would certainly help stage the opening mood for the evening. Later, I knew the Bolero would help us quench the lust, which was already perceptible within the room. Helen offered to make drinks, and stepped behind the tiled bar to do so. While she did, Anne roamed around the living room, stopping at the mantle and picking up my plaster cast. "Where did you find this Helen?" Holding the phallic symbol out in front of her like a peace offering. Helen laughed, and said: "The original is sitting five feet from you." Anne licked her lips lewdly, and came towards me while inserting the cast into her mouth. Removing it as she reached a point directly in front of me, she said, "I hear there's nothing like the real thing." Helen had returned with the drinks, but stood off to the side watching. Anne knelt down and unzipped my fly. She reached in pulled the real McCoy out, and took me in her mouth. The night was under way. Helen interrupted Anne after permitting her a brief period of felatio. "Here's your drink Anne," holding it out until Anne accepted it. My cock dropped from her mouth, landing with a soft thud against my thigh. "Okay," Helen commanded, "let's get *fucking* comfortable. Into the bedroom, take your clothes off everybody." Hastening to comply, I failed to fully remove my leg from my slacks and tripped, falling against the bedpost. I admonished myself against getting hurt at the worst possible time. I continued to strip, but a slower pace as I greedily watched Anne remove her jacket and skirt. I began stroking myself and asked her to turn around so I could look at her. She flashed her smile and complied, still undressing. I noted Helen, halter in hand, stop to watch too. Anne's bra dropped to the floor and she bent daintily to remove her panties. Her breasts were beautifully shaped, with long, hard nipples; her stomach was flat and looked strong; her legs had a graceful beauty and her ass was dimpled and firm. After this brief examination, I reached up and pinched one of her nipples between my thumb and forefinger, she moaned and grasped my cock, squeezing it hard. Helen, naked except for her garter belt, stockings and shoes, reached out to Anne, and feathered her fingers in a lingering caress that moved from Anne's neck down to the top, and then underside of her breast. Anne shuddered. I sighed, and dropped to my knees to gaze at the pink folds of her labia, already glistening with her wet heat. Helen's sensual red lips closed upon a nipple. I looked up and studied her face, unable to fathom any emotion other than pure lust. I broke the heavy silence by asking Anne if she'd ever tasted her own juices. She said, "No, of course not." I placed my hands around her ass and plunged my face into her cunt, licking frantically. My tongue penetrated to its full length, withdrawing only enough to flick up to make contact with her clit. She began to tremble; God knows what Helen was up too. Using my legs as a football lineman might at the snap of the ball, I drove forward, face still embedded in her pelvic region, and we both landed on the bed. Helen, whose mouth was abruptly torn from Anne's nipple, stood in an awkward position - on the brink of falling - regained her balance and moved toward the bed. How I took this in I don't know. Peripheral vision? Imagination? Clairvoyance? Who cares? On landing, Anne instantly spread her legs further apart, reaching for the top of my head to keep my tongue in contact with her outer lips. After a few moments more of cunnilingus, I pushed myself up, and grabbing her blonde hair, pulled her face to mine. We kissed. We passed fluids back and forth. I ended the kiss abruptly, and growled at her "admit it, that's not the first time you've tasted yourself is it?" What was wrong with me? Here's a great piece of ass, primed and in place and I'm argumentative. Actually, I was acting on instinct. Anne wanted to be dominated to some extent. Momentarily distracted by Helen's attentions to her breasts, she stammered, "Yes, yes, I have." "When," I demanded. "When I masturbate," she quietly murmured. "You lied to me," I said coldly, "now show us how you do it, be quick about it." I sat back on my haunches and put my arm around Helen's waist. Annie flushed and nervous, obviously anxious to please and confused at the rapid change in tempo, began. Slowly, she drew her fingers over and around her clit. Then she placed her index finger inside her cunt, and began stroking herself at a rapid pace. Realizing she was already well lubricated, Anne inserted a second finger, slowing her rhythm. Moments later, Helen and I were amazed as Anne inserted her whole hand inside her! This was my first time watching a woman fisting herself. My cock screamed for release. As Anne continued fisting, I placed Helen's leg up on the bed, and entered her standing up. This was for our benefit as well as Anne's. We could both watch Anne from this set up. Anne began to cum, making a grunting sound I can only describe as" ugh, ugh ughhhh". "Lick your juices Anne," I commanded sternly. As she complied, Helen and I embraced and kissed. I broke away and slowly slid down her body, kissing all the way until I reached paradise. We moved onto the bed. Anne resumed her assault on my cock, gripping it in her hand; she brought the head to her lips, and darted her tongue out dragging it across the veiny underside of my cock. Her hot, wet tongue sent ripples of pleasure through me as she continued licking Bubba's entire length. Anne reduced her languid swipes until she was dragging my cock over her lips only, and I couldn't keep from moaning repeatedly as I neared my climax. Suddenly, she slid her pouty lips over me and engulfed me completely. I watched as Bubba went bye-bye and disappeared down into her throat only to reappear as she bobbed back up. Then back down in, all the way. As I felt myself starting to erupt, I let out a long groan, and Anne took this as a sign to pull me completely out of her mouth. She rubbed it on her sweat-stained face and beaded lips as she said, "Cum on my face James! Cum all ooover my face!" My entire body stiffened at these words and I shot a load over her cheek and across the bridge of her nose, and up onto her forehead, as her tongue darted in and out to lick Bubba clean. Before I finished ejaculating, Anne wrapped her lips around the head of my cock and sucked it like a lollipop, swallowing my last ejaculate. It took me a while to calm down from that orgasm, and I lay there, soaking wet, panting, otherwise hardly moving; riding out the spasmodic twitches rippling through my body - reduced to the role of voyeur. Helen maneuvered herself into a position from which her face was over Annie's pussy and mine was close to hers. Helen slammed her face down into Anne's pussy. Just as quickly she withdrew. A violent action. Anne cried out, pleading for her to get back there. Helen did, this time ever so gently she began licking and sucking Anne's lips. Anne was hot. She started grunting again, and began twisting her shoulders and thrusting her pelvis upward, saying, "Yes! Oh, yes! Oh, God yes! Helen seemed to revel in their continuity. This went on until Anne jerked upward and fainted. "I'll take care of her, Jim," she said, "go get us some toy's. I got up, my legs wavering and made my way to the toy box, only to remember I'd scattered them around the apartment earlier. I gathered several up and returned to the bed. Anne had indeed been revived. I stood at the side of the bed and watched as they moved into a natural 69 position. One of the toys I brought back was Mr. Hard Throb, and looking over the scene, decided to insert it into Anne's pussy. I gently tapped Helen's nose with Bubba to get her attention and clear a path to my objective. It slid in easily, and I established a slow in and out rhythm as Helen returned to dine at her pussy. It wasn't long before Anne started to come. Helen started to react to Anne's attention, and came shortly after. I'm standing there playing push and shove with Mr. Hard Throb with my own throbbing cock in my hand. I decided to put mine to use, and picked Anne who was now laying across Helen suckling her breast. Helen's unattended nipple was longer than I'd ever seen it before. I leaned over and nipped at it. Helen moaned in pleasure. I mounted Anne from behind. She was tight, but so lubricated that my first thrust brought me up against her cervix. Emulating Mr. Heart Throb, I used slow, deep movements. I didn't pump very long before Anne started screaming, "Oh, God, I'm coming again. Moments later I found myself fit for oral duty only as Helen grabbed me, taking me into her mouth, gasping, "I've got to taste you both." And with those lush, vise-like gripping lips and relentless tongue working on my cock I came, and came again. Helen swallowed some and dribbled some out of the corner of her mouth. I continued to cum, Helen started choking on my sperm. Anne meanwhile was eating Helen out and Helen picked this moment to begin a series of orgasms. I pulled out of Helen's mouth, spewing cum wildly across her eyebrows and into her hair, where in dripped down into her ear. Helen was a comely sight to behold. With everybody sated for the moment, we cleaned ourselves up a bit and returned to our drinks. Anne started talking rapidly. "I never saw anything like you guys the other night. And . . . and, when Helen flashed her pussy at me . . . why I thought that was wild . . .. I knew it was just for me to see, but then I saw that she had your dick in her hand . . . Ooohh, I got so wet!" She hits Helen on the arm saying, "And you . . . you knew I was hot . . . and you, James . . . running your hand up into my shorts . . . why didn't you finger me then? I wanted it so badly. Then this one," Anne lunged forward, grabbing and pulling on Helen's still rigid non-ringed nipple, "she tells me to go with her to the ladies, so'es she can help me dry myself. I swear I came right then. If my boyfriend wasn't gonna pick me up . . . well, otherwise I'd have left with you right then. Christ, I'm smoldering again. Look Jim, your cum's pouring out of me" "That's your cum baby," I said, putting my arm around her, and tenderly kissing her lower lip and then slipping my tongue in her mouth. I felt light tremors vibrating throughout her body. Oh, did her mouth have an erotic savoryness in its taste. Helen also sensed Anne's renewed horniness, and resumed her attack upon Anne. Licking, biting and sucking her nipples. One would have to describe Anne's aureoles as being huge; (puffies I think you'd call them). Her nipples protruded out about half an inch. I moved in to share Anne with Helen, taking one breast and attempting to draw it completely into my mouth. Of course I failed. But I tried again, only to back off and content myself with absorbing her nipple and sucking and chewing the miniature erection it had become. Then Helen and I pursued the same nipple. I bit and she licked. Our tongues would occasionally lap one another. Anne began to keen that now familiar moan which preceded an orgasm. Helen now had several fingers up within Anne's pussy. We played Anne together, as I gained renewed length to my cock. I looked on in amazement as Helen worked her entire hand into Anne. How could she feel so tight and yet retain such elasticity? It was another miracle of womanhood. Anne started to come again. Helen removed her hand and barked an order at me: "Fuck her now, James." I was ready. Helen positioned herself under Anne and began licking from her pussy to her asshole, even as I penetrated her pussy using the missionary position. Anne placed her legs upon my shoulders . . . I surged even deeper into her hole. I assumed we were in a different position than missionary. "Kama Sutra, where the hell are you when I need you?" Well, I wasn't going to start reading at this point, but you get my drift. -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----