Showing how we all started

"So...tell me about the woman in Harrod's," Jillian asked pointedly. I swung my body back incredulously in my chair. My "Oh, gah," was met with a chorus of efflugent, persistent, "Oh, no, no, no. Come on." I leaned on the table. OK. "There's not much to tell, really. I had to be, I don't know, twelve? Thirteen? And I was in Harrod's, in the food section, I think." Bee and Jillian were transfixed. "I was wondering around fascinated by the exotic imports, which was a lot of American foods like Tabasco sauce. And coming around a stand of jams, I think, was this tall, skinny woman, wearing a black fishnet shirt with no bra. I could see her pink nipple poking through an opening in the netting. I'm certain I wasnt too subtle, but I tried to coolly follow her around the store for a bit. As coolly as I could as a dumbfounded twelve-year-old." The ladies laughed. "Did she bust you?" Bee asked. "Nah. I mean, I'm sure she knew I was following her around, but she didnt seem to be annoyed by it." "How'd you know she was French?" "Ya know, I'm not sure. I think I heard her ask for assistance from a clerk and her accent was French. I also vaguely recall that she didn't shave her armpits, so I thought, *Oh! Well, she must be French!*" Bee and Jillian chuckled. "I have no idea where the hell I got that idea from, but...." "Did you get hard?" Jillian asked with a candid flirtatiousness that caught me off guard. "Uh," pausing to recall and to compose myself, "Yeah, I probably did." I smiled warmly in reflection. "Did you jack off when you got back to your hotel?" She continued. My jaw dropped and my eyes widened at her ferocious candor. "Wait!" She said, catching herself in her solecism. She turned to Bee quizzically, "Do boys even jerk off at twelve? When's puberty?" Bee was befuddled, speechless. Energized to engage her, I answered, "I probably did." "Did you think about the French womans boobs?" "Probably not. I mean, I'm certain that got me horny, but if I was masturbating at that time which I probably was I probably smuggled something out of my dad's collection for inspiration." Enthralled, Jillian replied, "You did?" Bee listened with confounded intent. "Yep," I said with a proud forthrightness. Jillian and Bee looked at me spellbound. "I don't know if its the same trip, but I remember sneaking a pack of Playboy playing cardsthe ones that had the playmates pictures on themout of my dads office and into my bags for the trip for...'assistance.' They were classic! The deck had to be from the mid- to late-'60s, so they only showed boobs and buttsno pubesbut there were these women with naked breasts! And I was twelve! So hey! They did the trick." "And you did this in your hotel room?" Jillian continued to probe. "My hotel bathroom, yeah." "How'd you do it?" "Ah," I sat back up in my chair and, not wanting to discuss my nascent pubescent technique in the middle of a restaurant, I demurred, somewhat flippantly, "I'll show ya later," waving my hand dismissively. "Promise?" She challenged me. Deliberating what was being asked for a heartbeat, I cautiously answered, "Yeah. Promise." ******* We tumbled through the hotel villas door, our shopping bags careening off the entryway walls like drunkards in an alley. Closing the door, we set the bags around the room: Jillian's next to her travel bag by the bathroom; Bee's at the feet of the sofa's end table; mine, indiscriminately, by the sitting room chair. In silent, ingenuous unison, we began disrobing, peeling our sodden clothing from our bodies. Bee and Jillian, having catnapped in the car, revealed a refreshment in their movements; Ihaving driven across the desert in the afternoon after shopping, drained of the adrenalin deluge that gushed as I caressed Beatrix to three orgasms in the front seat as her friend slept behind us, in a car whose air conditioner battled valiantly against the climate outsidewas bleary and depleted. I kicked off my sandals, each crashing into the bags by the chair. Jillian freed her hair, the long, glossy black torrent falling down her back, then carefully untied her wrap and slipped it from her shoulders. Her breasts yearned outward as she drew her shoulder blades toward each other and extended her arms back, letting the garment glide down her long, smooth arms; her nipples hardened in the room's cooled air. In a move Im certain designed to instigate, she bent at the waist, her legs long, straight and dignified, to remove her shoes. Her right foot crossed in front of her left, her hair draping around her face, she reached for her shoes, stolidly undoing them, gravity doggedly trying to pull her dainty breasts away from her chest. Past her, Bee turned to face me, her back to the patio door. She determinedly pulled her shirt skyward, her breasts catching within the bunching fabric. Outlined by the afternoon sun, I could still see her majestic breasts crash down on her chest once freed from her shirt, the shockwaves reverberating within them, her nipples tensing in response. (It was apparently unnoticed, or knowingly yet politely unmentioned, by Jillian that Bee had emerged from the car without the bra that she had worn to the car.) I could feel my heartbeat quicken, but at that juncture even my cock was too tired to react. Brutishly I pulled my shirt over my head and forced my shorts and boxers down my legs. Bee and Jillian conversed breezily as they removed their pants. As Jillian charmingly folded her clothes, I grabbed mine from the floor in my right fist and, without a word, stumbled vacantly toward the master. I tossed my clothes in the corner of the room and poured myself into bed, the cool sheets embracing me. Though the desert heat had beaten me, afternoon slumber welcomed me like the parent of a wayward child. Spindrifting giggles and an urge to pee woke me. I tossed and turned in vain, my full bladder baffling any chance of my getting back to sleep. Begrudgingly I kicked the sheet off of me and stumbled to the lavatory. As I expelled, I knew it was best that I got up; dinnertime had to be approaching. Relieved, my cock plunged down and to the left; still warm from sleep, my slackened sac hung low, the draped skin of my scrotum grazing and clinging lightly to my thighs as I stepped. I padded to the living room and plopped myself on the couch next to Bee. I slumped back, bringing my left forearm to rest on my forehead, my right hand settling on Bees smooth, full thigh, my cock arching over, the crown breaths away from my left leg. Bee tussled my hair. I glanced at her and was greeted with a warm smile and her captivating brown eyes; her right arm, crossed along her abdomen, tenderly cradled her breasts. I closed my eyes and smiled lightly in reply. Jillian sat in the chair across from us. Her voice appetent, she said, "So, ya ready to show me?" My eyes snapped open. She was leaning forward, her hands cupped together and set upon her right knee, her nutmeg nipples pointing at her thighs. Her eyes gleamed. I rocked my head on the sofa cushion. "Oh, ga, JillianI just woke up!" I squawked, adding, without thinking, "Besides, do I look ready?" I motioned toward my groggy sex. "Well, hurry up!" She commanded cheekily. Bee giggled. "Well, how about a little help?" I replied cannily. "Ohhh, no," she protested. "You're doing this on your own. Remember, youre supposed to show me how you used to do it." "Oh, I know. I'm not reneging, and I'm not asking you to do anything with me. I'm just saying, how about a little help to get me hard?" My cock acknowledged the words leaving my lips; I could feel it begin to heat, to swell, to stiffen. Bee also acknowledged my words and flicked my leg with her finger. "Ow!" My leg jolted as I glared at Beatrix; she looked back knowingly. Jillian deferred with a sly smile, "See? That's Bees department." "Yeah, yeah. I get it. But...." I paused; Bee and Jillian listened intently. "I just think that if you're the one who wants to see me masturbate, it'd be nice if you could be the one who gets me to where I want to masturbate." My cock swelled as the word masturbate floated toward Jillian, but the rising intensity of my negotiations with her also siphoned blood from my sex. Sitting up, I leaned in and looked at her intently. She recoiled, "I dunno." Bee's fingertips began trailing up and down my right thigh. "Look, I'll make it easy." She looked up at me. I could feel Bees eyes on me as well. "Since I told you about my first time and early technique, why don't you tell us yours?" "No." She shook her head adamantly. "Why not?" "Because." "Because? You masturbate, right?" "Yes." She glared at me like I was being thick. "OK, I figured; just wanted to make sure," I said, defusing. "Then," I followed, attempting to strike a blend of insistence yet understanding, "what's the issue?" "I have my own way of doing it." "As did I. So?" "So," Jillian returned, bearing a piercing vulnerability, "I don't want you guys to think I'm a freak." With hands waving in front of us, and our heads shaking, Bee and I quickly replied in concert, "Oh no no no, never!" "Aw, baby, you know how much I love you!" Bee intoned soothingly. Jillian returned a warm smile. "And with all that we've shared, all rather quickly, in the past 24 hours or so," I gestured to our common state of nudity, and tacitly implied that she caught Bee and me fucking last night as she slept in our bed with us, there will be no judgment, no being freaked out, just sharing stories. "Mmmm," she hummed hesitantly. "Promise you wont think I'm a freak?" "Promise," Bee and I both pledged. "All right," she cautiously acquiesced. "But I need some wine first." I slapped my hands on my legs and stood. "Coming right up!" I strode into the kitchenette to fetch a bottle and some goblets. I could feel my cock swelling again; a tear of pre-cum splashed on left thigh. I returned, placed the stemware on the table and corked the bottle. Glancing down, my cock was pitched down but had thickened appreciably, the vein on the left side near the base bulging, the head broadening, turning a dusky purple. All three glasses filled, I distributed them, and taking my seat again next to Bee, raised mine and pronounced, "Cheers!" The ladies contributed their "Cheers," raised their glasses and we each took a sip. With a deep breath exhaled with an "Haaaaaa," Jillian sat up and undid her hair which she had tied up during the afternoon, shaking the tangle out to her natural, raven wave. Inhaling deeply again, she said with a breathy heaviness tinged with reluctant embarrassment, "So...." Then, drawing in an empowering breath, Jillian looked Bee and me in the eye and declared, "I'm a humper." Halting to confirm that the sky had not fallen, she imbibed and continued: "When I was growing up, I shared a room with my older sister, so I didn't have much privacy. I had this long pillow that I always snuggled up with. I used to wrap my legs around it and sort of...wiggle a bit." She shimmied her hips quickly in her chair. Her petite breasts danced on her chest. Seeing them quiver made my heart accelerate, forcing blood into my cock. It warmed, and I could feel it slither over my scrotum, the head creeping along my left thigh. Preparing her next statement with a sip of wine, she said, "When I was about 13, it started to feel warm and really pleasant between my legs when I rubbed against it." Exuberance crept into her voice. My cock rose. Sitting up with my left leg bend, my foot resting on my knee, my cock was now parallel with the cushion beneath, hovering in the air, faintly pulsing. I took a mouthful of wine. Bee set her hand on my hip, her index and middle fingers meandering through the edge of my pubic hair, sending flashes of electricity through my groin. "So one night, I rubbed a little harder, a little faster." Jillian was now playing with her delivery, growing more comfortable in her recollections, and seeing the effect she was having on me, as my gaze locked on her, my eyes unblinking, my cock peering over my ankle at her. "Until I felt this weird sensation wash through my body. At first I frozeI thought I hurt myself!" Bee and I chuckled. I blinked. "But after the panic went away, I realized how good it felt, and I wanted to do it again!" She said excitedly. More laughter, more wine. "It was only laterlooking stuff up in some of the books and magazines my sister had that I found out I came." The verb astounded me. As she was carefully unfolding this tale, I was certain she would use the word "orgasm"; that she chose the phrase "I came" made my cock swell rapidly. It stood straight up, tilting slightly left, the rapid influx of blood agonizing. "And I found out about my clit and what it does and how it could make me feel, so the next night I tried it again!" She faced Bee but peered sideways at my cock. "That time it was a little quicker but a little stronger. I did it almost every night, but I started to feel a little freaked, doing that with my sister across the room from medid she know what I was up to? Could she hear me?so I tried to get the same feeling elsewhere, especially in the shower or the *furo*" Bee and I stared at her blankly. "Oh, sorry. The bath." We nodded comprehendingly. Jillian resumed, "I experimented with wash cloths, just my fingers, the water running out the faucet, but the best for me was with my pillow, just before I went to sleep." There was a hush as Jillian surveyed Bee and me. "Wow," was all I could muster. "And so you've stuck with that technique ever since?" Jillian shook her head, her eyes widening with an understanding affirmation. "Mm hmm, pretty much! That's what's always felt best for me. When my sister moved out to go to college," she strode on, "and I had more time to myself in the house since both my parents worked, I tried some different things to grind on: cushions, the arm of the sofa, stuff like that." "And how were those?" Bee asked, her tone more clinical than prurient, as though she wanted to learn a new method. With near exuberance, Jillian replied in a singsong tone, throwing her head back, "Ha, the orgasms were FABulous!" We all laughed. Still chuckling, I queried, "So, what was so bad in admitting that?" bringing my wineglass to my lips, hoping to dispel any residual unease. "I dunno." Jillian's voice trailed off as she turned to the window. "I just dont think many women do it that way." "I do," Bee chimed in. "You do?" Jillian asked with assuaged excitement. Turning to her, perplex, I echoed, "You do?" "Mm hmm!" Bee replied with a wide-eyed nod similar to Jillian's. In a declaration of solidarity, Bee said, "I also shared a room with my sister." She punctuated the statement with horizontal curved punch through the air with her right fist. Her breasts swayed, her right knocking into her left, capturing my attention. "And I'm a front sleeper, I like sleeping on my front." "That's true," I interjected. "And I used to fall asleep with my right arm buried under me. So kind of like you, I discovered that it felt really nice pressing my pussy against my hand. At first it was justcomfortable; it wasn't like I came or anything. But I think when I was around 14, I was doing that, and I kinda curled my fingers around, so I was sort of cupping myself in my hand, and this wild, amazing feeling blew through me." "So'd you keep up with it?" Jillian asked. "Ohhh, yes, but as I could do it with my hand, I could get those feelings sort of sneakily elsewherewhile I was watching TV on the living room floor, on the bus. But the best was still in bed at night." "So what is it about humping that you like?" I asked openly, my voice infused with prurience (though hopefully only subtly). "It's the pressure," Jillian answered unhesitatingly. Setting her wine on the table, she straightened her back and planted her palms flatly on the seat cushion on either side of her thighs. Her hips rocked almost imperceptibly. "Yep," Bee concurred. "I like the feeling of pushing and pressing and grinding," Jillian added. "It tightens me up like a spring inside. Then when I finally get there, I feel warm all over, and my whole pelvis pulsates, with my area feeling like it pushing down and out against whatever it is I'm rubbing on." I smiled lightly at her choice of the word area. "I can feel it vibrating in my thighs." "That's fantastic," I said. My body was electrified. Jillian leaned in, her palms still by her thighs, her nipples pebble hard. "So...you ready?" She thrust her jaw out and shot a look at my cock. I looked down. "Uh." My erection, pointing toward the ceiling, bobbed with each thunderous beat of my heart. A strand of pre-cum connected the head of my cock to my left thigh; it seemed to swell thicker the longer I looked at it. "Yeah...I think so." More pre-cum emerged; we watched as it percolated out, slid over the head and plunged down the strand to my thigh. I shifted in my seat; the heavy scent of my sexuality, spiced with the remnant parfum of Bees cunt, wafted. Nearly every muscle in my body twitched; I was convinced I was visibly shaking. Now Bee and Jillian were transfixed. "OK," I broke the silence. "I used to do this on the floor, but I think I'll use the ottoman," I said, gesturing to the oversized rectangular footrest in front the other living room chair, almost thinking aloud. "I should also get a towel," I added. I stood and walked uneasily to the bathroom; I felt chilled. My cock pointed straight out at Jillian, steely and a frustrated crimson. Her eyes widened; I could hear her breathe a little deeper. As I exited, Jillian whispered, "Oh my gosh, Bee!" I smiled. That eased me. I grabbed a bath towel purposefully from the mounted rack above the toilet. I turned to leave, but hesitated. Turning back I grabbed two more. Returning the living room, I announced, "OK, I'm going to do this. But you two, tossing a towel each to Jillian and Bee, are going to join me." "Ohhh, no. That wasn't part of the deal," Jillian disputed. "Well, it is now," I answered in mocked defiance. "If you get to see me come, I don't see why I cant get to see you come. That seems fair. Doesnt it?" "Uh...no!" Jillian chided. "Why not?" I bandied. "Look, same rules'll apply: I'll show you how I used to make myself come, and you can show me." "Mm mm," she hummed in protest. I raised my hands and shook my head with quizzical disbelief. "I've never masturbated in front of anyone before!" "So? You think I have?" I retorted. (Of course I had, just yesterday, with Bee on the patio, but as I didn't come, I was prepared to argue that that didn't count.) "Enough!" Bee said authoritatively, quashing the brewing argument. "*Andiamo!*" She circled her raised right hand in the air like a rallying signal, then stood and unfolded her towel. Her breasts quaked as she shook the towel out. The look of herher deep brown eyes, her heavy breasts pouring off her chest, her full hips and thighs, the toned contours of her calvesmade my cock swell; thinking that she was just moments away from, hopefully, grinding herself to an orgasm as she bent to arrange the towel on the sofa, her glorious ass jutting out, her raw sugar tits capped with paprika nipples plunging down, made my cock pound. I unfolded and spread my towel across the ottoman. Jillian rose with a huff. "All right," she said with perturbed disinclination, and stomped over by me. I looked at Bee who flashed me a coy smile as she sat on the edge of the couch. Jillian undid only a couple of folds of the towel, extending it along the arm of the sofa, but maintaining a few layers. I looked at her curiously. "I can't see you from over there," she remarked. I looked at Bee again, who winked with a Cheshire grin as she reposed on the sofa along her right side, her head resting in her hand, her eyes radiantly mysterious. Her left hand lighted on her hip as she tugged absentmindedly on cinnamon strands of her pubic hair. I smiled deviously back at her. Bee looked ambrosial. I knelt on the ottoman and sat on my heels, spreading my knees in a wide V. Straightening my back, my cock pierced forth from the junction of my groin and lingered above the towel, pulsing and bucking faintly; my scrotum skimmed the terry. Jillian stationed her hands, one behind the other, at the sofa arms edge as she slung her left leg over like mounting a saddle. Fleetingly, I could see the outline of her delicate yet distended inner lips protruding beyond her outers before she settled herself on the armrest. She put her hands on the tops of her thighs near her hips and shimmied her pelvis slightly, seeking the perfect angle. The flex and strain of her thigh muscles, the undulation of her compressed mons beneath her midnight pubic hair and the gentle roll of her abdomen mesmerized me. I stared at her belly. The color of heavy cream, her skin was exiguously speckled with birthmarkstwo to the right of her navel, one to the left near the bottom of her ribslike a photo negative of a twilight sky when only the brightest stars emerge. Her breasts and thatch were in my periphery. Returning her hands to the CPR stance before her, her arms obscuring her nipples, her navel and her pussy, she leaned forward, breaking the spell she held me in. "Phew! OK," Jillian said, breath taken. "Come on." She gestured toward me, her face flushed. Bee rolled onto her front, but not before lifting herself on her hands to bring her eminent breasts comfortably between her and the cushion. She settled down and rocked to the left as she slinked her right hand under her to her mound. Reaching its destination, Bee immediately began pushing her pelvis against her hand. Her eyes closed, her lips parted, her face ruddied. I was now engrossed by Bee as her ass and legs flexed, her face contorting in her desperate climb. A staccato "Ah!" escaped her. She bent her left arm, her left hand crawling beneath her breast. Forgetting Jillians presence, I asked, "You pinching your nipple, baby?" "Mm hmm," she replied from her throat as she licked her lips. "Pinch it hard for me." She drew in a sharp "Hu!" as she followed my command. "You two really are fucking hot," Jillian contributed. "Ah!" She cried. I broke my gaze from Bee and looked at Jillian. Her knuckles were white as she dug her fingers into the sofa. Her hips rocked in a steady, even rhythm. She watched Bee from above, afforded, undoubtedly, a spectacular view of her back, ass and legs as her body surged and ebbed in its journey to an orgasm. I sat and absorbed the moment, enjoying the electricity that filled my body and ricocheted through the room. My cock felt distended, thick, heavy. Jillian turned back to me. Her eyes glassy, she admonished me breathily, "Hey! You haven't started." I held my gaze with her then looked down at my cock, furious in its shades of reds and purples. "You're right," I admitted. Recalling my earliest technique, I extended my feet, the edges where my toes join my feet sank into the ottoman. I sat on my heels and placed the pad of my left thumb on the top of my erection near the base. My thumb at a right angle, I pressed my palm into the padding of my mound, my index finger nuzzling my tightened scrotum. I pressed down with my thumb and back with my palm. My shaft elongated; the skin stretched, more veins emerged. I pushed my fingers into the flesh behind my sac. I flexed my muscles, making my cock throb and the glans bloat. Pre-cum poured from the tip, leaving glistening droplets on the towel below. I looked Jillian in the eyes. I saw her stealing glances. She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes. I gulped her body with my eyes. Her chest blazed red. The sides of her breasts (the foci were obscured by her forearms) quivered as she ground keenly on the sofa arm. Bee moaned again. "You close, baby?" She asked. "Getting there," I assured her. "You?" "Mmm, yes," she said in a heavy breath, her eyes closed. I returned my attention to Bee. "Mmm, nice. Then why don't you do it? I want to hear you come." Bee thrust her hips, her cunt pounding against her hand. "Come for me." I switched my grip: rotating my hand, my thumb remained at the base of my cock, but the tips of my four fingers came to rest along the right side of my shaft. I rose up on my haunches and thrust my pelvis against my open fist. My cockhead was a deep purple, the corona an inflamed red. "Oh fuck!" Jillian exhaled, looking at me unblinkingly. A frantic, rising, "Mmmmmh!" was trapped in her throat. Bee's breath quickened, shallowed and became erratic. Gasping short, sharp breaths, she said, "Ah, I'm gonna come." Gaining a momentary focus, she appealed, "I want you to come too. Come with me, baby. Fucking come with me." She thrust against her hand one last time. "Oh FUCK, I'm coming!" She cried out, her mouth open, her face strained red as her legs and ass quaked involuntarily. The initial explosion past, she thrust her hips more, drawing out more of her orgasm. Her words pierced me. I settled down one last time, my scrotum pressing into the cooled pre-cum that sprinkled beneath me. I rose up on my knees, thrust my cock toward her. I tightened my muscles. My cock strained as the beginning of my orgasm sparkled within like a roman candle. Spreading through my groin and down my thighs, my orgasm snapped. I let out a growled, "Ngha, fuck!" My cock ejaculated the first blast of semen onto the coffee table, landing with a subtle splat on the glass. Realizing I extended the end of my cock beyond the edge of the ottoman, I cupped my right hand beneath, my scalding coulis drizzling into my palm. A muffled, delirious, "MMMMM!" reverberated in Jillian's throat. She squeezed her eyes shut and dug her fingers into the sofas arm. Her legs clamped tightly and shook uncontrollably. She panted sharply, rapidly, then squealed through her grit teeth as her thighs shuddered again. Her body stiffened. The pleasure finally passing, she released her grip on the couch, and dropped her head, her hair draping around as she fought to catch her breath. Finding the sights and sounds of two women less than a foot from each other orgasming within seconds of each other torturously erotic, I pressed my cock through my ringed grip again, coaxing a second, diminutive orgasm. As my orgasm subsided, I sat back, caught my breath, and massaged the pearly glaze of my semen onto my cock. Sweaty, I struggled to rise, my legs unstable. Upright, I began to make my way to the bathroom to clean up and cool down, wiping the residual cum from my hand with my towel as I stepped. Making my way uneasily around the coffee table, Bee sat up and stopped me with an extended left arm. Turning me deliberately, she looked up at me mischievously and, without a word, closed her glinting, bottomless brown eyes and took the length of my waning cock in her mouth. She let out a satisfied "Mmmmm," as her tongue swirled and bathed and cleaned me. "Oh, wow, Bee," Jillian exclaimed in disbelief, as I watched her watch us. Bee giggled on my cock as she ran her fingertips up my thighs and over my ass to my back, pushing more of me into her warm, silken mouth. I had to steady myself, placing my hands on her shoulders. I closed my eyes and dropped my head forward as her tongue swathed, cradled and caressed my hypersensitive cock. With a dragging "mmmm," and a punctuational pop, she unsheathed my cock from her lips. Kissing my stalk, my mound and just below my navel, she patted me on the ass and sent me on my way. I rinsed my hands and splashed water on my face. Drying with a hand towel, I felt refreshed yet drained. Returning to the living area, Jillian had dismounted the sofa arm and sat snuggled up to Bee, who supported Jillian's head with her upper right arm as she ran her fingers through her hair. Making my way to my chair, I noticed a pronounced wet spot on Jillian's towel. I sat, leaned my head back and looked at the ceiling. "We should probably order food," I said flatly to no one in particular, to which no one particularly replied. We just sat quietly, the room turning copper, orange and pale violet as the desert sun slid behind the mountains.