“He's not without experience, Mr. B.”
I settled back to watch the action resume, hoping that her report had been accurate. If I saw him actually trying to stick his… well, I'd leap up and pop him in the mouth. Buddy was shifting his mouth down to Amy's breasts, his face half hidden in the deep valley as her mounds shot skyward. Then he was opening the clasp, managing it far more easily than I'd ever been able to do, and tossing her brassiere into the pool. It floated forlornly, like a friend who had been forgotten.
I heard Trudy's small sound as Amy's breasts surged into view. “Why, she's wonderful. I never saw such a pair.” Her whisper was urgent.
“I know,” I said, my voice dry. “I've been aware of them for some years.”
“Lucky dog.” Impulsively, the little blonde seized my hand and pulled it to her bosom, cupping my fingers over a breast, imploring me to sink them deeply. I obliged.
At the same time, Buddy was lapping Amy's right mound like a hungry pup, his tongue darting out in the half light, and we could even hear his faint slurping. Amy was loving it, her head bobbing, but still pointed toward the heavens. Once or twice she lifted a hand to pat the back of his head in thanks for his services. Her lips opened and I thought I could hear a moan as she wiggled her breast, causing the nipple to twist between his teeth.
He moved to the twin hill and she wiggled this one in anticipation, the pink knob rasping across the faint chin stubble of her partner. This time her cry was distinct and even I could feel the jolting sensation tear through my chest and straight down into my balls.
“Good for you,” my blonde pal whispered and I followed her eyes.
My penis was half erect, making a comeback after its very recent exertion. I was proud of it but, turning to my hand, I realized that it was due to more than mental stimulation. My fingers were still pumping the high hard breasts of my partner and the effect was not only noticeable in my body. She was beginning to breathe harder, her lips parting as she hauled extra air into her lungs. Her breasts added to the fun by starting their fresh swelling and I immediately began to look forward to further adventures.
Our glances went back to the pool apron, where Buddy was down to my wife's belly, which was jumping in and out like a bellows. She'd always had a nervous stomach. Any little thing would set it to trembling, and now it was going crazy. He tried to kiss the navel, but the thing kept hitting him in the face.
He moved still lower and I could see his pursed lips blowing into her pubic brush, making the hairs stir in the breeze. Amy's “oh” of pleasure was clear in the night. He kept on blowing, apparently in no hurry. He was going to have her reduced to a pile of melted gelatin before he moved in for the kill. I glanced down at Trudy.
Her head had come back against my legs and, as she sat a bit straighter, her hair was pushing up under my balls and my semi-rigid staff was lying quietly atop her head. If she felt the heat or the weight, she gave no sign, so I draped my arm over her shoulder and found the breast I'd been neglecting. It greeted me eagerly.
She tried to look up into my face, but the head of my cock slid across her forehead and stabbed her in the eye. Blinking, her eyes running, she said nothing and we returned our interest to the arena on the other side of the bush.
Buddy was still blowing across the rippling field of wheat, making Amy begin to steam, Her hips were wiggling, slipping from side to side on the concrete, slowly easing the elastic of her pants lower on her bottom until the things were barely clinging to her pussy. Buddy ended the agony by gently taking the pants and easing them over her thighs and down her legs. In a second they joined the floating bra in the pool.
He was whispering his lips into my wife's foliage by now, hardly an inch above the place where the tops of her folds were joined. Amy's knees were slipping farther apart and, leaning back on her hands and digging in her heels, she was raising her hips from the apron, shoving her crotch closer to his mouth.
Buddy shifted his attack, moving from the side around to where he was crouched between Amy's knees. He leaned on them, pushing them wide as he crawled in between, moving up to her thighs. He was poised, staring directly into her box, his eyes wide, his lips still pursed for action.
The suspense was something fantastic as Trudy and I held our breaths. I never had realized that Peeping Tomism could be such sheer delight. Trudy was panting as though she were ready to get her own gun and I was like a stone, my penis thudding down on her head each time I moved. Her fingers crept up past her ear until they found my balls and she pinched, adding to their heat.
“Easy,” I warned.
She let go and we returned to the show. Buddy was leaning on Amy's knees, balancing so he could get his face close to her furry triangle. Still in his skimpy trunks, he was revealing his massive pouch, which looked like it could escape from chains if its owner became stimulated sufficiently. I could see, even in the slight light, the complete outline of his penis, which was trying to stand out straight against the bathing trunks. His balls also seemed swollen, half squeezing from the bottom of the trunks so that tortured folds of hairy flesh were oozing along Buddy's thighs.
“He's a man,” I had to admit.
“You bet he is.”
I glanced down at Trudy, allowing my cock to slide over behind her ear, like a monster pencil. “Have you ever had him?”
She looked up at me, turning her face swiftly to peck her lips on my Long John Silver. “Would you think it was funny?”
“I'd think it funny if he'd never tried to rape you, Trudy. Put it that way.”
“Okay, then we've done it and he's a real champion.”
I was jealous for a moment, but the show made me forget. It was getting close to the final act and we sat up in our seats, forgetting ourselves and our rising passion as best we could to concentrate on the work of two experts.
Buddy's mouth was pressing into Amy's fur, his lips parting it, and we could see the gleam of the moist flesh coming through. She was liberally lubricated, ready to pump. He pushed more deeply and her knees fell all the way apart without any further pushing from her friend.
Then, with the swiftness of a speeding bullet, half of the young man's face was lost to our view. He was fully engaged, his tongue doubtless plunged inside Amy to its fullest extent. Amy was reacting like her fingers had been stuck into an aquarium loaded with starving piranha. Her body was moving in a dozen directions at once, heaving, gasping, wiggling, expanding.
Then her hands were on the back of that large, thrusting head, urging it deeper, gripping the hair and hanging on as though she were riding a runaway stallion. He was making muffled sounds of pleasure and Amy tried vainly to reach forward to his hips, seeking doubtless to remove his suit and handle him, but he was too long in the waist, out of reach by inches.
She did the only thing she could, wrapping her arms around that head, locking it into position, while her hips somehow lifted themselves from the concrete. It was a sight for Trudy and me, and we were panting like Baltimore Colt fans sniffing victory over the Green Bay Packers.
With a final great quaking in her loins, Amy was coming, her orgasm rocking them until it seemed that a string of firecrackers was exploding inside their loins. She came again and then again. I'm certain of it. Amy was often a multiple orgasm woman. I've sometimes been able to coax three or four from her in a few minutes.
But at that moment she was finished, letting go and rolling back until she was flat on the paving. Buddy raised his dripping head, heaving great sighs, sucking fresh air into his starved lungs. For a minute or two no one said anything and we waited.
I looked down at Trudy and she looked up at me, shifting her glance to my throbbing dork.
“You're ready again, aren't you?”
I had to agree. I was super-ready.