Message-ID: <18672eli$9901212125@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "Martina Lee" Subject: (11/17 from Oh, Susana) FMM Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Mime-Version: 1.0 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: <19981228174657.17265.qmail@hotmail.com> This is the 11th chapter of my book of short stories, collectively entitled "Oh, Susana". I am posting all 17 chapters, including reposts of the four chapters submitted previously. Please feel free to comment. WARNING: This is adult entertainment only, dealing with sex and sexual subjects in explicit language and detail. If you are under age for that kind of thing, leave now. This story, and others in the Oh, Susana series, may be reposted on ASSM, and redirected to ASS, but may not be put to commercial use by anyone but myself. I am willing to discuss them on ASSD or you can email me at Oh, Susana! The erotic adventures of a South Seas sexpot by Martina Lee 11. Shave One For Me Susana smoothed the satiny skirt over her hips and buttocks, ran her tongue lightly around her lips, and stepped back from the mirror. Her left hand strayed across her breasts, testing the shape of her nipples under the soft, taut fabric of her top, then down her tummy to her pubic mound. She spread her fingers, walked them softly downwards to savor the smooth, cool feel of the skirt against freshly powdered skin. She closed her eyes, allowing her mind to dwell briefly on the erotic possibilities of the evening ahead, and ran the side of her index finger downward and inward, feeling the slick fabric slipping easily into the crease between her legs. Then she tore her hand away, shook her head to clear her thoughts, and once more checked her appearance in the mirror. Satisfied, she turned to the wardrobe, took out two little foil-wrapped packages and placed them in her handbag. She stepped to the door, opened it, and walked out to greet her men. Peter and Neil were sitting at the dining table on the far side of the living room. Susana had kept them waiting for a long time, quite a bit longer even than usual, and for a moment she considered apologising. But then she thought of what she had in store for them, and decided no apology was necessary. "Well," she said, as if it was she who had been kept waiting. "Well, are we going or not?" Immediately, they drained what was left of the drinks in front of them, gathered cigarettes and lighters, and followed her to the door. In the carpark downstairs, Susana rubbed herself against Peter as Neil opened the front passenger-side door, then the driver's and driver's-side back doors, and slid behind the wheel. Peter helped her into the back seat, then shoe-horned himself into the front beside Neil. They drove to the club in silence, Susana figuratively hugging herself in anticipation and relishing the wicked feeling of her nakedness under the skirt and top. Up front, both her husband and her lover sensed, and responded to, the sexual aura she projected from the back seat. Simultaneously, as if by telepathic order, each of them dropped a hand to his lap and shifted in his seat, straightening his semi-erection. Their eyes met, and they grinned at each other. Inside the club they fought their way into the crowded lounge, all three of them acutely aware of the hungry eyes taking in Susana's bare, rounded shoulders and the just-visible swelling of her nipples as they progressed to the bar. How much hungrier would they be, Susana thought, if they knew . . . she checked her rising excitement, and halted that train of thought before it led her into trouble. Amazingly, they found a spot in the corner. Even more amazingly, there was a just-vacated bar stool. Susana levered herself up on to the stool, carefully pulling her skirt from beneath her legs and bottom and draping it to either side before settling against the backrest. The leather was smooth, still warm from its recent occupant, and slightly giving against her bare skin, and the sensation was almost like sitting on another naked body. She glanced fondly at Neil ordering their drinks, and at Peter striking up a conversation further down the bar, and a warm glow spread from her waist to her knees as she thought again of the surprise she had prepared for the pair of them. Almost an hour later they walked into the club restaurant to eat. In the meantime they had had about five drinks and Susana had found an opportunity to let both Peter and Neil in on the first part of her secret. She had announced that she was going to order their meal, slipped off the stool, and pressed up against Neil at the bar. As she did so, she took his hand, placed it flat against her waist, and ran it down her hip to her thigh. His eyes widened, and he swallowed hard as he realised she was naked under the skirt. Susana waggled her behind at him as she turned to wend her way through the crowd and out of the bar. On her way back, pushing through an especially crowded section, she had her bottom grabbed. The culprit might have been any one of about five guys, all of them half-drunk, noisy and obnoxious, and normally she would have turned on the whole group and told them to keep their hands to themselves. But she kept going, and looked back at them only after she was back on her stool in the corner of the bar. They were all watching her and grinning, heads close together and muttering to each other. She suspected that the bottom-grabber had copped enough of a feel to discover she had nothing on beneath the skirt. "Good luck," she thought, and stared back at them as she raised her glass to her lips. They looked away, but several times in the next few minutes she caught them staring again. It didn't bother her; in fact, it only heightened the excitement, knowing that Neil wasn't the only one who knew her secret. That left Peter. He was jammed in the corner to her right, leaning back against the bar. Neil was standing slightly behind and to the right of her stool and the pair of them were discussing football or something equally silly. Susana dropped her handbag at Neil's feet. "Get that for me, please, Peter," she said, and he bent obediently to pick it up. As he straightened up, she hitched the dangling fabric of her skirt up to her waist, held it there for a moment, then let it drop again. Their eyes met as he handed her the bag, and she knew that he had seen what she meant him to see. She licked her lips at him. He looked questioningly at Neil, saw that he also was in on the secret, and gulped at his drink. He was breathing heavily, and Susana noted with satisfaction that there was an obvious bulge in the front of his trousers. She drained her glass and said brightly: "Let's eat." They had let her order for them, and there was the usual banter when the waiter turned up with the appetisers: Prawn cocktail for Susana, half a dozen oysters each for Peter and Neil. For possibly the twentieth time since she first met him, Neil cracked the old joke: "The last time, only three of these worked." "I should be so lucky," thought Susana. Then: "On the other hand, tonight may be the night it comes true." She decided it was time for the second part of the surprise, finished her cocktail and rummaged in her handbag for the little packages. "Here," she said, handing one to each of them. They fumbled with the foil, unwrapped two identical spring-backed jewellery boxes, looked at each other, then back at her. "Wait," she said, and looked around for their waiter. He was over the other side of the room. "Open them," she said. Inside each of the boxes was a small, curly lock of black hair. Neil caught on first, as she guessed he would. After all, she had got the idea from a story he told about one of his old girlfriends. He laughed, loudly, startling Peter and attracting curious glances from nearby diners, then reached under the table and squeezed her knee. Peter was looking puzzled and Neil decided he needed to be enlightened. He leaned across the table and whispered: "You've heard of having a hair of the dog?" Peter nodded. "Well," said Neil, "you've just been handed the hairs of the pussy!" Peter looked shocked. He flushed, snapped the box shut, looked at Susana. She poked her tongue at him and batted her eyelashes. Peter opened the box again, looked at its contents, looked at Neil, looked again at Susana, grinned, shut the box and put it in his pocket. Neil shut his box, motioned to Susana to put it back in her handbag just as the waiter returned. After that, the rest of the meal was an anti-climax. None of them really noticed what they were eating, none of them finished the main course, and both Peter and Neil almost leapt to their feet when Susana said: "Shall we go?" She motioned them back. "Just wait,'' she said. She pushed back her own chair, rose, went to the counter, and paid the bill. Then she stood in the doorway, beckoned to them to follow, and walked out. In the carpark she kissed them both, heedless of who might be watching, then decided that she wanted to drive. On past form they might have ended up anywhere, but this time she drove straight home. Once inside she said, "Get a drink. I'll have a vermouth," and disappeared into the bedroom, locking the door behind her. When she emerged five minutes later, wearing her white silk nightie, Neil and Peter were sitting again at the dining table. She stalked around the room and closed the curtains, then did the same in the kitchen. Then she walked back into the bedroom, returned with a pillow, threw it on the floor and lay down on her back in the middle of the room. "Come here," she said. At her direction, they knelt on either side of her, and she pulled Neil down to kiss her. It was a long, wet kiss, and he was breathless by the time she pushed him away. "Now you," she said to Peter, and gave him the same treatment, then sat up. "Shower," she said, and they both groaned in frustration. But when the lady said "jump", you jumped. They got to their feet, retired to separate bathrooms, showered as ordered and emerged almost simultaneously, each trying to hide an erection, in their laplaps. She had taken off her nightie and was lying naked, face down this time, in the middle of the floor where they had left her. Peter slapped her bare bottom and rolled her over. Her left hand flew to cover her crotch and she lay there, grinning cheekily up at the pair of them. Then she took the hand away and laughed at the expression on their faces. She had shaved the left side of her pubic bush, but the right side was untouched. "I thought you'd like to finish the job," she said. She had it all worked out. There was a pair of scissors on the bench in the en suite, together with a razor and a plastic bottle of skin lotion. There was a towel on the bed, and a reading lamp with an extension cord plugged into the socket in the corner of the living room. She had Neil fetch the lamp and set it on the floor beside her left hip, where it provided maximum illumination for the area of operations. She sent Peter for the towel, the scissors, razor and skin lotion, then raised her hips off the floor and had him spread the towel beneath them. She lay back again, drew up her knees, and spread her legs. "Who's going to be doctor?" she said. There was no shortage of volunteers. Susana turned to Neil. "You," she said. "Scissors." He picked up the scissors, knelt between her outspread legs, and began to clip carefully at the mass of hair still covering the right side of her pubes. Susana reached out her right hand towards Peter, grabbed a handful of laplap, and pulled. It came off. "Come down here," she said, and he knelt beside her. She wormed her hand under the waistband of his underpants, laid hold of his doubled-over cock, and pulled it straight. "Take them off," she said. Peter rose to his feet, slipped the pants down his legs and stepped out of them, then returned to his previous position. Susana wrapped her hand around his dick and milked it lovingly. Peter put out a hand and teased her nipples, but his eyes remained fixed firmly on the activity between her legs. Clip, clip. Neil's tongue lolled between his lips as he concentrated on his task. Susana raised her head to look down the length of her body at him. He had not bothered with underpants after his shower, and his laplap formed a little tent held up by the ridgepole of his erection. Clip, clip at her cunt. Tug, squeeze at Peter's cock, growing larger and harder with every caress. Susana turned her head to watch her hand at work. "Come up here," she said, and Peter stepped forward on his knees, leaned across her body to bring his dick within reach of her lips. She took the head of it in her mouth, biting gently and sliding her tongue voluptuously around the smooth, swollen tip. Peter flinched as her teeth tightened a little too hard. "Sorry," she mumbled, and pushed her hand between his legs to his backside, pressing him close so that his cock sank deeper into her mouth. He moaned, and began to rock on his knees, sliding his prick in and out past her questing lips. Neil had finished with the scissors and was sitting back on his heels, his cock twitching under its laplap tent as he watched Peter's staff slipping in and out of Susana's mouth. He worked two, then three fingers into her cunt, and Susana gasped as he drove them all the way in to the base of her uterus. "Juicy cunt," he said, and did it again. "Juicy, bald cunt." He withdrew his fingers, picked up the bottle of skin lotion and squirted it liberally over the stubble of her remaining pubic hair. Susana pulled away from Peter's cock, pushed him upright. "You shave me," she said. Both of her men got to their feet. Peter moved around to kneel between her legs as Neil went to the table, picked up a packet of cigarettes, lit one and placed it between Susana's lips, then lit one for himself and offered the pack to Peter, who shook his head and picked up the razor. He sat back on his heels, ran a tentative finger over the newly smooth skin on the left side of Susana's cunt, then stirred the lotion-slick stubble on the other side. Then he placed his left hand flat on the base of her tummy, pressed up to pull the skin tight, and drew the razor downwards in a smooth sweep. It was easier than he'd imagined, but there was something Susana had forgotten. He looked up at Neil. "Water," he said, "to rinse the razor." Neil went into the kitchen, returned with a mug of water and an ashtray. He gave the water to Peter, stubbed out his cigarette, then Susana's. He scraped up the little pile of hair-clippings from the towel, and placed them in the ashtray. Susana grasped his ankle. "Come on down," she said, and guided him into Peter's former position as Peter washed the razor free of stubble and lotion and returned to work. Susana tugged the laplap free from around Neil's waist and let it fall away, encircled his tool with thumb and forefinger, and urged him downwards to her mouth. She licked his cock, starting among the hairs at its base and sliding her tongue wetly along its length to the tip, then back again. Between her legs, Peter's left hand was busily pinching, pulling, stretching her skin this way and that as he prepared the ground for each new sweep of the razor. Peter was humming softly to himself. He straightened her left leg, straddled it and bent her right leg further outwards, then moved the lamp to between her legs to improve both his view and his access. Susana slurped hungrily at Neil's cock, pulled him closer and buried it deep inside her mouth. Then she pushed him away, gripped him tightly with thumb and forefinger, and pumped slowly. His cock hardened noticeably with the extra pressure, and he arched his back with pleasure. Peter made a last couple of careful passes with the razor, sat back and admired his handiwork. Susana shuddered as he poured on more cold lotion, spread it with careful fingers over the entire area. Then he raised the bottom edge of the towel from between her legs, and wiped her dry. It looked positively obscene, a naked cunt on a grown woman. But at the same time it was disturbingly exciting. The lack of hair threw the labia into greater prominence, and there were details of construction he had not noticed before. Hairless, and partly open because of the spread-eagling of her legs, it looked strangely vulnerable and . . . he had it . . . almost exactly like an orchid. Peter was suddenly overcome not by lust but by a wave of tenderness towards this fragile flower of womanhood. He moved the lamp back to its original position, knelt between Susana's calves, leaned forward and worshipped it with his lips, gently sipping the sweet nectar from among its fragrant petals. Susana permitted this act of adoration for about 30 seconds, then humped her hips and broke the spell. "Your moustache tickles," she said. For a moment, Peter was outraged. But then she was sitting up, releasing her stranglehold on Neil's dick, and grabbing at Peter's arms. She dragged him up on top of her, reached between them to grab hold of his cock, still almost fully erect, and pulled him into her. What was left of the lotion, combined with her own juices, made it an easy entry, and he plunged in up to the hilt, driving her backwards on the carpet as she wrapped her arms around him and nibbled his chest. She threw her legs up and hammered on his buttocks with her heels, encouraging him to dig even deeper. Peter humped, grunted, humped again . . . and exploded inside her in the grandfather of all premature ejaculations. Susana felt him come, felt the hot rush of sperm flooding her vagina and spilling out to dribble down the crack between her cheeks. Peter thought she'd be cross (he was shocked and angry with himself), but she chortled with apparent delight. "Don't worry," she said. "There'll be another one along any minute." She dropped her legs, pulled his head down to hers, and kissed him fondly, then murmured in his ear. "Off," she said. Still shaking from the intensity of his orgasm he resisted for a moment, then pulled out of her, rolled off to her right and lay, panting, on his back beside her. Susana sat up, leaned across and licked his softening prick. Then she rose to her feet, picked the towel from the floor, spread her feet wide apart and wiped herself. She motioned to Neil to lie down, arranged him so that he was lying where she had been, parallel to Peter with his knees about level with Peter's head. She nudged his legs apart with her feet, then placed the reading lamp between his knees and adjusted the angle so that it shone directly on his cock. "Watch," she ordered Peter, and he rolled over on his stomach and propped his head on his hands. Susana knelt by Neil's left shoulder, placed a hand on the floor on either side of his waist, and lowered her head to his belly. She dipped her tongue in his navel, then worked her lower lip under the tip of his cock and levered it to a vertical position. Squinting against the brightness of the lamp she looked at Peter, noted with satisfaction that his eyes, less than 50 centimetres from her own, were fixed on her lips. She leaned forward a little more, opened her mouth, and closed it over the tip of Neil's pulsating cock. Then slowly, slowly, savoring every centimetre, she worked her way down the trembling shaft until her lips had nowhere else to go and the back of her throat was clutched around throbbing meat. For a few moments she couldn't even breathe. She pressed her head downwards another impossible two centimetres, closed her lips tightly around the base of Neil's penis, and sucked hard as she drew back until only the head of it was still in her mouth. Peter rocked his hips and shifted position slightly and she guessed, correctly, that he was recovering quite quickly from the dreaded Limp Dick. She opened her mouth, let saliva trickle down the length of Neil's cock, then dived after it, making soft slurping noises as she went. As Peter watched, his eyes bright with rekindled lust and his reborn erection boring into the carpet, she pumped at Neil's cock for several minutes until her lips ached, her jaw ached, and the back of her throat felt rubbed raw. Somehow, god knows how, Neil managed to hold back. Finally, Susana lifted her head from his prick. But she wasn't yet finished with him, or with the show for Peter's benefit. She got to her feet, stepped astride Neil's body, and squatted over him, facing his feet, her naked quim wide open and glistening wetly in the bright light from the lamp. Peter licked his lips as she reached down, grabbed Neil's cock, and impaled herself on it. The turgid shaft disappeared into her for almost its whole length, then reappeared as Susana began a slow bouncing motion. Neil fitted his hands under her buttocks and helped. Susana leaned slightly backwards, placed her hands on the floor to either side, and humped her hips. Peter watched, fascinated, feeling the blood pounding in his temples and coursing through his own rigid cock, pressed tightly into the carpet, as the lips of Susana's cunt clung stickily to the withdrawing shaft, stretching and clinging as if reluctant to let it go. Then, as she descended again, they folded in on themselves, seemingly urging Neil's pole to greater depths. She twisted to take all of her weight on her left hand, dropped her right hand to her cunt and parted it further with her index and ring fingers, began rubbing her clitoris with her middle finger. She threw back her head, closed her eyes and groaned as she rose and fell, rose and fell, and Neil began to buck his hips in an effort to force himself even further into her. Finally, she lifted free of his cock and swung herself off his body. She knelt by his shoulder, kissed him while she ran a hand down his chest and belly and briefly squeezed his jerking tool, then moved to Peter and slapped his bare bottom. "Turn over," she said. Peter rolled on to his back, his erection springing from his belly to point obliquely at the ceiling. As she had done with Neil, Susana knelt and kissed him. She reached out and yanked at his tool, then rose and knelt astride his thighs, leaned forward and sucked his nipples. She wormed her way up his body, reached between them and slipped the tip of his cock into her cunt, pressed back to drive it home. "Nice cock," she whispered into his chest. She raised herself to hands and knees, careful not to let him slip all the way out of her. "Fuck me," she said. Peter put his hands on her waist, began to heave his hips, his burning shaft slipping easily in and out of her dripping pussy. "Nice cunt," he said. "Nice, juicy, warm cunt." Susana shivered, squeezed with her vaginal muscles as he thrust himself further into her. With Peter's cock still imbedded deep inside her, she sat up and looked over at Neil. "Here," she ordered. He stood beside Peter's shoulder and she ran her hand up the inside of his left leg, laid hold of his jutting cock and slipped her encircling fingers lightly up and down the pulsing shaft, then tightened her grip and tugged him closer. "In front," she said, and he stepped astride Peter's chest. Susana reached both hands behind him, dug her fingers into his buttocks, pulled him towards her, and swallowed his cock. Neil arched his back, thrusting his pelvis forward, and Susana shifted her hands to his hips to regulate his movements as he began fucking her mouth. Below them, Peter grunted and bucked his hips. Susana rocked up on her knees, flopped back hard and gasped as his prick slammed into her. She rose, flopped, rose, flopped, and each time she did the pole filling her creaming pussy seemed to swell and lengthen until she thought it would tear her apart. She was delirious with passion, crammed to bursting point with cock at both ends. Now Neil's hands were behind her head, allowing her no retreat as he pressed deeper into her mouth with each new thrust. Peter raised his knees slightly and began a rhythmic heaving of his hips. Susana bounced faster, faster on Peter's prick, sucked harder, harder as Neil forced his cock halfway down her throat. She felt the pressure of orgasm building inside her, sensed that both Neil and Peter were also on the point of climax, and rolled away from them both, lay on her back beside Peter. She spread her legs, massaged her tingling clit with feverish fingers. "Fuck me, you prick," she said to Peter. He was between her thighs in an instant, and she raised both her legs high in the air as he entered her again. "Harder," she moaned. "Fuck me harder." Peter hooked his arms behind her legs, forcing her buttocks higher off the floor, and rammed savagely into her, again and again. Susana reached for Neil's ankle, pulled him to her, and grabbed his dick. "Down," she gasped, and he knelt beside her head with his cock jutting over her face. She worked on him furiously, tugging, wrenching, jerking at his tool until he cried out in pain, pried her fingers loose and began to milk himself as he watched Peter's cock pistoning in and out of her cunt. "Pistoning" was exactly the right word — Peter was fucking like a steam engine, puffing and gasping as he pounded away at her pussy. He was coming, she was coming, Neil was coming. "Not inside," she pleaded. "Don't come inside me." Peter shook his head, fucked faster. Neil grabbed her hand, wrapped her fingers around his twitching cock. "Now," he said. He arched his back as Susana pulled at his prick, then shuddered as the climax hit him and he came in her face. Susana felt the first, warm jet of sperm on her cheek, opened her mouth and was rewarded with a second helping on the tip of her tongue. Then another, and another. She gulped it down, raised her free hand to wipe her cheek, and licked the salty stuff from her fingers. She tugged again at Neil's already softening tool, and squeezed a fresh gob of sperm out of the end. It clung there for a moment, then dribbled out of him on a long thread and dropped into her open mouth. Susana swallowed again, ran her tongue around her lips, then stiffened as Peter's persistent battering brought her to the edge of her own climax. "Don't come inside me," she pleaded again, then gave herself up to the sweet agony of orgasm. One, two, three, four times she peaked before Peter jerked himself out of her cunt and she felt his hot juices splashing on to her belly. She raised her head, watched as his twitching tool emptied itself in a series of quick spurts. Peter lifted away from her, sat back on his heels, and she lowered her legs. Her left hand stole up onto her tummy, and she trailed her fingers through the sticky blobs of sperm. She smiled dreamily, walked her fingers down her belly to caress her shaven cunt, and climaxed again. -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----