Georgia

[DLizzie]

Whenever I play “Georgia” I can’t help but think of Ray Charles. But this time was different. The bridesmaid was just so hot that I couldn’t take my eyes off her, and I stared straight into her eyes as the song poured out of my saxophone. For some reason today, the reed was just right. It blew free and easy, with a sound as big as your back yard. For a fleeting instant, the thought crossed my mind that it was getting ready to die; that it would make a sound like a duck in the middle of a song, and then nothing. But as I stared into the bridesmaid’s eyes, and blew my heart out, the reed just kept right up with me.

She was licking her lips now, and took a small sip of her champagne.

I started into the second chorus, and doubled it up, playing arpeggiated licks around the melody, and throwing in a minor third that gave it a sultry, bluesy effect. The keyboard player picked up on that, and went right along with me.

She moved her shoulders slightly, keeping time with me as I went into the bridge, and back into straight time.

"Other arms reach out to me
Other eyes smile tenderly
Still in the peaceful dreams I see
The road leads back to you"

On “you” I took off again, and threw in a blues lick that brought me back to the head.

As I finished the tune, she got up from her table, and walked up to the bandstand.
She whispered to me “Room 308. Seven fifteen,” and she walked out of the room, towards the Ladies room.

I glanced at my watch. It said six. I walked over to the bar, and requested a glass of ice water. Even when musicians are allowed to drink at these functions, I always make it a point to drink only water, or tonic. I don’t want the guests or members of the wedding party to think that I am giving them less than their full value for my musical services. I figure there are reasons they call playing music a job, and staying sober is one of them. Besides, I always tip the wait staff, even for a glass of water. They notice that, and after the guests have left, and we are packing up equipment, I can get all I want to drink, and sometimes more, if the bartender happens to be a little horny, for free. I sipped my water, and checked my watch. Six-ten. Time was moving so slowly, it seemed. I set my glass on the bandstand, and went to the Men’s room. As I unzipped my trousers at the urinal, I suddenly realized I was slightly swollen. Thinking about seven already, are you? I mentally said to my one-eyed friend. I finished what I had come to do, and washed my hands. Walking back into the hall, I looked at my watch again. Six-fifteen. I gave the high sign to the rest of the guys, and we went back up to the stand for the last set of the day.

As we walked to the stand, the bass player said, “You’d better hold that sax in front of you. People seeing that lump might think your mind isn’t on the job.”

It’s not, I thought to myself. I can play this stuff in my sleep, and right now, my mind is in room 308.
We played the last set, and closed with “Goodnight, Sweetheart.” As I packed my sax I saw the bartender heading my way with a glass of amber liquid. The ice clinked in the glass as she walked across the room.

Handing me my scotch, she winked and said, “We have a request for you to play a single at a private party in room 308. The stairs are down the hallway to the left.”

“Thanks, Doris. You’re a doll,” I replied.

“Watch out. She’s a firecracker. She had me up for a private session after dinner last night. I think you’ll like her. She shaves, but leaves you a landing strip, so you know just where to put your tongue. She tastes good, too. Nice and clean and wholesome. “ Doris made no secret of her preference for women, and usually managed to have at least one or two of the bridesmaids whenever there was a wedding reception. Clearly, this time was no exception.

“Anything special I need to know?” I asked.

“I think her ass is virgin. She got pretty tense when I fingered it last night,” she replied.

“Or possibly sore,”

Doris laughed. “My guess is that after tonight it might be.”

I chugged the last of the scotch, and felt the familiar warming as it hit bottom. I handed the glass back to Doris, along with a five dollar bill. “Thanks. Keep the change, Sweetheart.”

“Have fun,” she called to my back, as I went out into the hallway.

By the time I got to the third floor, I was huffing and puffing. Lugging that tray pack sax/clarinet/flute case up six flights of stairs was no picnic. And, of course, I had packed an instrument stand and a bunch of tools in it, so it weighed about seventy five pounds. I’m getting too old for this shit, I thought to myself. I leaned against the wall in the landing, trying to get my breath, before opening the door, and venturing out to the hallway. I stood the case on its end, and undid my cummerbund, waistband and fly, and smoothed my damp shirt tails down. Zipping up again, I felt I was a little more tucked in, and was ready. I pushed the hair back from my eyes, flicked an imaginary piece of dust from my sleeve, picked up the case by the end handle, and taking a deep breath, pushed on the bar to unlatch the door.

It swung open, and a cool breeze of air conditioning swept from the hallway into the stairwell. I stood for a moment, getting my bearings, and enjoying the breeze. There was no one in the hallway, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I had been a little concerned about how I’d explain my presence there, as the musicians were usually constrained to the reception halls on the first floor, and it was obvious I hadn’t booked a room for myself, since I had no door card.

I looked at the room numbers. It looked as if the numbers were ascending down the hallway to my left, so I turned to the right. 308 was the third door down. I took a deep breath, raised my knuckles and knocked, calling out “Room service,” as I did so.

I heard the door latch being opened, and a muffled voice saying, “I think you have the wrong room. The champagne’s already been del…” she stopped as she opened the door and saw it was me standing there, wearing a silly grin. She opened the door a bit further, and grabbing my arm, quickly pulled me inside, and closed the door behind me.

The room was very dark, and I stood there, blinking, trying to get my eyes to adjust. Before they had a chance to, I felt a steel bracelet lock around my right wrist. Quickly, she spun me around, and latched the other hand in the cuffs. The handle of the sax case was caught in the chain between the cuffs, and I was effectively trapped. I stood there, partially bent over with my back to the room, and wondered just what I had gotten myself into. Doris’ words came back to me then. “She’s a firecracker…”

Just then, the bathroom door opened, and light flooded the room. I looked in the mirror on the closet door. Doris emerged from the bathroom, wearing a pair of thigh-high boots, a black leather corset, with no panties and a black pvc bra with the nipples cut out. I noticed she was shaved completely bald, save for a little narrow "landing strip". I remembered that was exactly how she had described the bridesmaid's pussy. In her right hand, she carried a riding crop.

My cock immediately sprang to attention, but I was a little confused and wondered just where this was all leading.

“Remember that night, two years ago, when we were drinking and you told me your fantasy was to be taken by two dominant women?” she asked me. She went on, “Well, here’s your chance. Do you still want to go through with it?”

I gulped, and thought, Damn. When it’s real, it’s a whole lot more scary than when it is in your imagination. “Um… I think so, but can we set some ground rules first?” I replied.

“Sure.” Replied Doris. “Here are the rules. 1. You will speak only when spoken to, or asked a direct question. 2. You will not otherwise make a sound. 3. You will do exactly as you are told, immediately, and without question. If you are too slow, you will be punished. 4. You must ask permission to cum, and may not do so unless and until it has been granted, either by myself or by Melissa. 5. If the pain becomes too great, or if you want to stop the proceedings at any time, your safe word is Philadelphia. The instant you utter it, you will be released, gently massaged and dressed, and you will be free to go. I ask again: Do you still want to go through with it?”

I thought quickly, and could feel my cock beginning to throb.. I opened my mouth to say "I’m too afraid," but what came out instead was “yes.”

Swat! She smacked me on the ass with the crop, over top of the back of my tuxedo jacket and trousers. “The proper answer is, Yes, Mistress Doris”

I stood there, dumbly. I was more surprised than in pain, as the coat and trousers had absorbed all the shock of the crop. But I could tell it would be a completely different story on bare skin.

“Say it!” she commanded.

“Yes, Mistress Doris.” I heard myself say. Philadelphia, I thought to myself. Remember Philadelphia. Where Washington surprised the British on Christmas. Philadelphia. Home of Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell. Philadelphia. My signal for liberty.

Gently, but with a veiled threat, she stroked my cheek with the crop. “That’s better, Slave. I think you are going to like this evening’s little scene. And remember, I really do like you. I think you’re a good guy, and a Hell of a musician. So all that takes place here is really for your pleasure, though it may take a while for you to realize it. OK, Melissa, he’s all yours.”

Melissa stepped forward from the shadows then. She was still wearing the emerald green strapless bridesmaid’s dress, but she had taken off the CFM shoes. The big bow made her look as if she were wearing a bustle. She reached behind her on the bed, and brought out a pair of large sewing shears.

“Would you like to do the honors, Doris, or shall I?” she asked in a surprisingly deep contralto voice.

“Oh, I think you should, Bro…..um, Sis, “ Doris replied. “After all, he is your catch. All I did was set the hook and confirm the appointment.”

All of a sudden I had an epiphany. This was not going to be exactly as I had fantasized. First of all, I had never fantasized about sisters having me; and secondly, one of them was most assuredly not a cross dresser. Contrary to what I would have expected though, my cock grew even harder with the realization that this was going to really stretch my boundaries. (And a few other things, I feared.) At the same time I was afraid, I felt myself becoming even more aroused at the thought of being penetrated.

I felt her pull my shirt out of the back of my trousers, and felt her hand on my back. It was warm, and very soft. It was as though the nerves on my back went straight through my core, and my cock throbbed, as she slid her hand up my spine. I had no idea till then, that one's back could be an erogenous zone. Then I felt a slight tugging and, though her hand rest protectively between my flesh and cold steel of the blade, I heard the fabric rip as she/he deftly ran the scissors up the back seam of my shirt and jacket. Still cuffed to the upright sax case, my shirt and jacket gather around my arms.

"I'm not finished yet," She/he whispered seductively close to my ear. "The fun is just beginning." Her hand flew about my neck shielding me from any misapplied snip of the blade, which seconds later, sent my collar and bow tie separate ways. A sudden thought crossed my mind that I was going to have to buy a new tux. That was something I could ill-afford, and I opened my mouth to speak. Doris drew back the crop, poised to smack me.

“Please Ma’am. Permission to speak?” I asked pleadingly. I closed my eyes, waiting for the blow of the crop on my face.

Doris lowered the crop. “Well?” she asked, imperiously.

“Begging your pardon, Mistress Doris, but I am concerned about my tuxedo.”

“You haven’t permission to speak, but I’ll make an exception this once,” Doris replied. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll have you fitted for a new one when we are all finished playing. They have an excellent tailor shop downstairs. They carry only three brands, but I think you’ll agree that Hugo Boss, Corneliani, and Armani make very nice suits. And much better than the cheap one you bought from the wedding shop. Anyway, there's nothing uglier than a man in a cheap tux.”

As she was speaking, I felt Melissa place her hand down the back of my trousers, into the crack of my ass, and I involuntarily shivered, as my trousers and boxers fell away, leaving my ass totally exposed. I felt very open and vulnerable. My mouth formed an O, as I suddenly let out my pent-up breath, which I hadn't even realized I was holding.

SMACK!

The crop came down upon me, and I grunted with the pain.

SMACK!

Again and “Silence, Fool!” Doris commanded.

"Spread your knees, Love," Melissa cooed softly into my right ear.

I did as I was told, and SMACK!

The crop struck my ass again."Not fast enough!" Doris growled.

I felt a tear well up in the corner of my eye, but blinked it back.

Melissa wedged the case between my legs. My ankles were still trapped by the trousers, and with my hands cuffed to the upper handle, I was effectively immobilized. My throbbing cock was mashed up tight against the edge of the case, and my abdomen threatened to break it in half.

"Now bend over, and place your head on the jacket, Darling," Melissa coed again.

I quickly complied, but grunted as my cock was folded between the case and my torso.

SWISH!

I heard the crop fly through the air, and felt the breeze as it narrowly missed my ass. I jumped involuntarily, expecting the blow and the fire pain that would follow.

Doris laughed a deep, throaty laugh, and said," Half the fun is how things can get in your head." She smacked my ass again, this time with the flat of her other hand.

I hadn't heard the whistle of the crop. Her hand caught me completely off guard, and I yelped, despite my fear of punishment.

I heard the crop whistle then, and

SMACK!

I was rewarded with a fiery pain across my ass cheek, that traveled halfway down the back of my leg. I was reminded of aerial fireworks that after they explode, shower sparks downward as they burn out. The tingling in my leg lessened in the same way, but didn't stop completely. I opened my eyes again, and out the corner of one eye, saw Melissa lifting the back scratcher from my lower leg.

My cock, which had softened from being compressed, began to harden again. I sucked my breath through clenched teeth, but didn't make a sound. I could feel the perspiration beginning to bead up on my forehead and the back of my neck.

Melissa stepped in front of me then, where she was full in my vision. She stood there, and said, "It's getting warm in here, Sis. I am going to remove this dress."

Doris, unnecessarily, I thought, said, "Keep your eyes open Slave, and watch her as she undresses."

I certainly didn't need to be told twice. I still wanted to see those breasts that I had been watching the whole time I had been playing. Then I suddenly remembered that Melissa might not be a she, after all. I watched and waited, hoping against hope that they weren't fake.

She slowly reached both hands up behind herself, and slid the zipper down her back. Smiling at me, and looking me straight in the eye, she lowered the dress to her waist. She was wearing a nude colored strapless full coverage bra. There was a slight bulge of flesh at the top, but still no clue as to whether she actually had breasts, or just a lot of padding and a push-up bra. My mouth suddenly felt very dry, and I licked my lips.

"You think so, do you?" Melissa asked, and quickly added "Don't answer."

Doris stepped around in front of me, and stood beside her sister. Or was it brother? At this point, I was totally unsure, and completely astounded that I could be so turned on, yet not even know the gender of my attentions. She reached around Melissa's waist, and cupped one of her breasts in her hand. Lifting slightly, she cupped the other hand under her own, and squeezed her breast so that the nipple jutted out through the opening. "I bet you just hope it is like this." she said, smiling. "Well, do you?"

"Yes, Mistress Doris," I croaked, surprised at how dry and raspy my voice sounded.

It was then that I realized I had been panting when she spanked me. I was struck by the thought that when you are being tortured, you become so centered on one part of your body that the rest fades completely away . Even when the pain is not unbearable, and is just in fun, you become disassociated.

"I think he needs a drink of something," Melissa said, as she stepped out of the dress. She was wearing a half slip that stopped just short of her kneecap.

I still had no inkling of what her true gender was. The thought that she might be a man scared me , and my cock went soft again.

She reached out with her fingertips, and gently touched the head.

"Oh, goodness," she said. "Now look what you've gone and done. If you can't stay hard, that's going to be a real problem. How about a little Viagra, just to spice things up. Would you like that?"

"Yes, Mistress Melissa," I replied. My mouth was still dry, and the thought of swallowing a pill made me add, "But, please, Mistress, I don't know if I can swallow a pill, because my throat is so dry."

Doris stepped out of my field of view. I heard her open the little room refrigerator, and heard ice falling into a glass. Presently, she came back into view, holding out what appeared to be a glass of orange juice over ice. She held it to my lips, and I drank, thirstily. It had a slight tang to it, and I realized it was a mixture of oj and tonic water.

"Did you put the tonic in it?" asked Melissa.

"Oh, yes," Doris replied. "A double dose. He's going to stay hard for hours." Turning to me, she said, "Bet you didn't know Viagra could be purchased on the black market in powder form. There is no such thing as an aphrodisiac that will make women fall into your bed, but as to men - well - that's another story, Deary, isn't it."

As she spoke, I could hear Melissa doing something behind me, but couldn't quite place the sound. It sounded almost like plastic being snapped together. Then I felt something cold and slippery in the crack of my ass. It suddenly hit me: she had put a generous dollop of KY or some other lubricant on her hand, and was slowly working it around and into my hole.

Hey! That's a one way street! I thought to myself. But I didn't say a word, for fear of being spanked again by Doris, who had taken up a flogger in her free hand, and was swishing it through the air, experimentally.

FLAP!

Without warning, the flogger suddenly struck across my back.
Well, that wasn't so bad, I thought to myself, as she dragged the tips across me and then,

FLAP!

Again it fell across my back. My skin began to tingle, and moments later was completely on fire, as she struck again. I could feel every single strand now, and it felt like a thousand little strips of fire across my back.

Reaching out her hand, she laid it flat on my back across where she had just struck me, and I could feel the heat from her hand driving the strips of pain deep into my skin. The Viagra was beginning to do its work, though, and the fire went straight through me and centered on my hardening member.

FLAP!

Again, and the fire made my cock even harder. Then I felt burning at a point in the middle of my back. Oh, my God, I thought. She's really nuts, and is sticking me with a needle! Then I felt a droplet of water run around my rib cage, and suddenly realized it was just an ice chip she had placed on my back. It was such a relief, that before I could stop myself, a laugh escaped my lips.

FLAP!

She struck again, saying "Silence!"

As if from a distance, I heard someone moan, and had a dim realization that it was me making those sounds. My cock was hard as a rock, and throbbing again, and I felt something warm sliding into my ass. Oh, my God! I thought, Melissa has a cock, and I am going to get fucked. Oh, Jesus no! Then I thought, What's the safe word? Liberty, no, um..... Bell.....no that's not it.. um Phila..Philadelphia. But I didn't say it, because then she hit against my prostate, and it just felt so good I couldn't help letting a moan escape my lips. I tried to push back and take more in, but was unable to move. I had never been taken in the ass before, and was so incredibly turned on that I was just about out of my mind. I felt like I was going to cum, but at the same time, felt like couldn't. And I felt so incredibly filled, and all I wanted was to feel her deeper inside me.

All I could think was, Oh, yes, fuck me. Fuck me silly. Take me. I am yours.

I moaned again, and Doris said disgustedly, "You're too loud. But I don't think you can take any more spanking right now, Punta, so we'll shut you up a different way."

I should have felt humiliated by the Mexican slang, but all I could think of was having more of that wonderful cock filling me. He was pumping seriously now, and I could hear the sloshing sound his cock made, as he trust it in and out. He was pulling all the way out on each stroke, and I could feel my anus closing and reopening with each reentry. Every stroke hit my prostate, and the sensation went all the way up my cock to the very tip. I could feel my balls tightening up, and I was so close to cumming. I was hoping he'd cum. I wanted to feel him hold himself deep into me, and I wanted to feel his hot semen shooting inside me.

Doris pulled an ottoman over near the saxophone case, and put her pussy tight against my nose and mouth. "There," she said, "That ought to keep you a little quieter."

I tried to pull my head back, so I could take her clit into my mouth, and suddenly realized that sometime during all the action, one of them had tied something across the back of my neck and down around both ankles. I couldn't straighten up, and I couldn't even lift my head. All I could do was move it from side to side a little.

"That's right, Slave." Doris said. "Move it from side to side, and get both my labia nice and wet before I let you you suck me off. And keep your mouth open, Slut. I don't want any whisker burn." She muttered to herself, "Men are just so fucking hard. I wish they were soft, like women." Then speaking in a commanding tone, she said, "Eat it like you mean it, Bitch!" And she swatted my ass with her hand, but I could tell her heart wasn't in it, and the spank felt more like love than punishment.

Meanwhile, Melissa was ploughing me deeper and faster and harder with his huge cock. Except that I suddenly realized, when his dick plunged all the way in, I felt his balls hit my ass, but not his legs or his body. How can that be? I wondered. It was then I realized she had to be fucking me with a dildo. She must have warmed it under the bathroom faucet. Why do I persist in thinking Melissa is a she?

"Mel," Doris said then, "I think it is time for the great unveiling. Let's show him what kind of fucking he's let himself in for."

“I have a better idea,” Mel – or was it Melissa? – replied softly. “Let’s put this on him.”

I wondered what “this” was, but soon found out, as they slipped the sleep mask over my eyes, and tightened the band around the back of my head. Then I felt the strap across the back of my neck being loosened. I moved my head then, and was rewarded by feeling Doris’ clit against my upper lip. It was hard, and felt as I imagined a little cock would, complete with foreskin sliding back, exposing a miniature cock head. I closed my lips on it and sucked.

SMACK!

“Mouth OPEN!” Doris commanded, as she swatted my sore ass cheek.

I didn’t know what she'd used, but it felt solid, almost like a board, and stung. I sucked in my breath, but forgot to open my mouth and Doris squealed as her clit was pulled into my mouth.

“OUCH! Dammit! I said OPEN, not bite! Now you ARE in for it. I am going to spank you with the handle of this back scratcher, and you must count exactly how many strokes. After each one, you will tell me the number and say, 'thank you, Mistress Doris, for helping me improve my behavior.’ If the number you tell me is wrong, we will begin again at number one. I think ten is a good number to punish you properly.”

SMACK!

“One. Thank you Mistress Doris, for helping me improve my behavior.”

SMACK!

“Two. Thank you Mistress Doris, for hel…um…helping me improve my behavior.” I had stumbled in mid sentence, because I suddenly felt my ankles unfettered as the rest of my trousers and boxers were removed. I hoped my stumbling would not give her reason to add to the punishment.

SMACK!

“Three. Thank … um ..thank you, Mistress Doris, for improving my behavior.”

SMACK! “HELPING me improve,” Doris leaned in and corrected. “Start over with one. And that one does not count.”

Oh, fuck, I thought to myself. I’m not going to be able to keep track, if they keep doing other things to me at the same time. I’ll never get to ten. She’s going to get in at least thirty or so….

SMACK!

“One. Thank you, Mistress Doris, for helping me improve my behavior.” I felt the handcuffs being released, but they were quickly replaced, but without being attached to the case handle. I felt a hand on my chest, and Melissa – or was it Mel? – whispered softly, “Stand up straight, Baby, so I can remove the rest of your shirt and jacket.” I was still wondering if the voice I heard was a woman, or a man trying to “pass”, when

SMACK!

“Two. Thank you, Mistress Doris, for helping to improve my behavior.” The instant the words were out, I knew they were not quite right.

SMACK!

“Wrong. Start over,” was all she said.

SMACK!

“One.” I sobbed, the tears openly streaming down my face. “Thank you Mistress Doris for improving my …um…my behave…my behavior.” While I was reciting, Melissa had taken hold of my penis, which was still rock hard, and begun quickly stroking it up and down. I had been so concentrating on the pain in my ass, I had forgotten I even had a cock, let alone an erection. My mind was spinning, and I was wondering just how many actual strokes Doris had given me.

"Wrong." SMACK! "Begin again"

SMACK! SMACK! ........ pause ....... SMACK!

"What number?" she asked.

Oh shit. I suddenly realized I had no idea what number that was. Oh Jesus! All I could think was there were supposed to be a total of ten. “Um… three?” I asked, and added, "Thank you Mistress Doris for my behavior.”

“Three? THREE?” My arm is fucking falling off from hitting you, and all you think you’ve had is THREE?”

Doris sounded furious. “I’ll show you three!”

And she spanked me then, three times in quick succession. My ass felt as if it was going to explode. The whole time, Melissa was still pumping my cock, and I could feel the tension beginning to build in my balls.

“That makes a total of fifteen. You are such a slut, you can’t even count right. All you can think about is your sorry cock. And don’t you DARE cum.” She added, as I started to tighten my abdomen.

Melissa stopped stroking me, and moved away from me.

I stood there, blindfolded, feeling the cool air of the room on my throbbing cock and ass.

I heard the faint swish of feet on the carpeted floor, and one of them was behind me, wrapping her arms around me, and grasping my nipples , pinching them. I felt two nipples lightly pressing against my back, but couldn’t tell if it was Doris, or if Melissa had removed her bra. One finger touched my lip then, and I put out my tongue. I tasted the unmistakable flavor of my own semen. I must be dripping from the ass fucking, I thought. And then suddenly, without warning, my groin spasmed, and I could feel my cum spurting from my throbbing cock.

“GOT IT!” Doris cried out triumphantly.

Melissa whipped off the blindfold, and Doris held up a plastic hotel cup in front of my face.

I stood there blinking in the sudden light, as my eyes adjusted. When they finally focused, I saw there must have been at least three ounces of cum in it.

“I told you not to cum.”Doris said. She reached up and pinched my nose. Tipping my head back, she emptied the cup into my mouth.

I gasped for breath at first. The sweet salty taste stung my tongue as I swallowed, and I could feel the aftertaste deep in my throat. My cock was still standing proud, bobbing in the air, with each beat of my heart.

Melissa came around in front of me then, and got down on her knees. She took my cock into her mouth, and expertly licked and sucked it clean. She was still wearing the bra and half slip, but as she leaned forward, I could see just the hint of the edge of her areola. Those boobs are real, I thought to myself.

“On the bed on your back, Slave,” Doris commanded.

As I turned to go over to the bed, Doris reached her hand up and removed the wig she was wearing. My eyes widened as I saw her shaved head. Then I couldn’t see any more, because Melissa had climbed on top of me and was straddling my hips, with the slip pulled up, and her legs spread. I caught just the flash of a strip of pubic hair, as she impaled herself on my cock, sighing as it entered her. "Having fun yet?" She leaned forward and began slowly rocking her pelvis, keeping my cock inside herself.

I nodded. I could feel her cervix as it moved toward and away from the head of my cock. I felt the bed give beneath my feet, and suddenly Doris was behind Melissa, cupping her breasts with both hands. They both straightened up, and Doris undid the bra. Melissa’s breasts fell free. Her areola were hard cones, and the nipples stood out like erasers, begging to be licked.

I tried to raise my head, and stuck out my tongue to give them the attention they needed, but Melissa sat straight up, keeping them just out of reach. She raised her hips then, and said to me, “Raise your hips, too. Stay with me.”

I arched my back, and as I did so, Doris slipped a pillow beneath me.

She got off the bed then, and reaching into the upper bureau drawer, took out some faux fur bondage straps. She put one around my left ankle, and tied it to the foot of the bed. Then she did the same to my right ankle. I was spread so wide, it felt as if my legs were being torn asunder; in a good way but torn asunder nonetheless. She came around to the side of the bed, where I could see her, and took off the corset. Her stomach and abdomen were very firm, and I could see the slight impression of a six pack below the skin. She then removed the bra, and the breast forms along with it. “Don’t look so surprised, Sweetie,” she said. “You know I have always preferred women.” Next she removed the prosthetic vagina, and her fully engorged eight inches popped straight out.

Melissa giggled and said to me, “Bet you didn’t see that one coming.”

It was a good thing I was lying down, because otherwise, you could have knocked me over with a feather, I was so surprised.

Melissa climbed off me then, and came to the other side of the bed. She climbed up, and facing my feet, placed her pussy over my open mouth. I could taste the mixture of her secretions and a faint flavor of my own cum. It was a heady mixture, and I inhaled as I thrust my tongue into her engorged lips. From a distance, I heard the sound of a condom being ripped open, and the next thing I knew, my ass was being penetrated for the second time that evening. I took it in gratefully, and grunted as I felt the head rubbing my prostate. Within a few minutes, Doris was pumping furiously away, and I was doing my best to do the same to Melissa with my tongue. We were all moaning and making noises deep in our throats.

Melissa was the first to cum. She suddenly screamed and sat straight up. She pressed her pussy hard against my mouth and nose as she flooded my face. I gasped for air, and she raised up slightly.

Doris gave a huge grunt, and slammed her cock deep inside me, pulling my hips up to hold herself there. I could feel it jerking and throbbing deep inside, and the combination was too much. I came with such force that my cum spurted up past my chin, and I felt wetness on my left ear. As Doris withdrew, I spurted again, and Melissa caught it on her hands.

Putting them to her mouth, she said, “There is no better flavor than that from an aroused cock. Yours tastes different from my husband, Doris’s, but I like them both. Let’s get you untied and cleaned up. You have an appointment downstairs with the haberdashe