Silent, wide-eyed and utterly shell-shocked, Michel and Antoine watched us from their vantage point on the plaid rug-like two hunting stoats, fascinated by a pair of alluring, frolicsome rabbits.
After ten or fifteen minutes in the water, Nicole and I made our way back to the rug, pink-cheeked, sparkling-eyed and thoroughly ravenous after our exertions. A million jewel-clear drops clung to our lithe, naked bodies and we shook ourselves like naughty puppies all over the reclining young men, eliciting howls of laughter and mock protest, before flopping down on the rug and rubbing our wet hair with the fluffy white towels which had thoughtfully been provided by our hosts – no doubt in the event of a possible unexpected tumble in the lake whilst out rowing, or maybe a quick, post-prandial dip.
By now the spell had been broken and all four of us were laughing and joking with infectious animation, enjoying the delicious food with vim and gusto and steadily polishing off first one, then two bottles of the soft but deceptively powerful red wine.
All the while, despite our noisy alacrity and high spirits, Nicole and I were more than ever aware of our voluptuous nakedness in the presence of these two, horny young men with their burning eyes and stiff, lusty pricks. Never once did their eyes leave our bodies and, once or twice, cool male fingers chanced to brush against our warm, sun-burnished skin, causing little ripples and thrills of pleasure and anticipation to pulse through our soft breasts and warm thighs.
'And now, my darlings,' said the handsome Michel, rising to his feet and lazily unfastening a shirt cuff, 'I feel it is we men who should return the delightful compliment you have paid us by shedding your clothes and displaying your beautiful nakedness for our delectation. Come, Antoine, let us disrobe…'
Transfixed, Nicole and I watched as these two gorgeous boys in the very prime of life and positively oozing male potency and sexuality, elegantly and with great aplomb divested themselves of their restrictive manly garb until they finally stood naked before us, side by side like a pair of randy stallions with erect, purple-domed cocks standing high and proud against their flat, muscular bellies.
Purring with sensual pleasure, Nicole and I smiled at each other and advanced together on all fours towards our delicious, succulent quarry. When we reached the boys we each in our own special way and with our own individual and inimitable style, began to gently stroke and caress the pulsing pricks of our respective partners-Nicole had chosen to pleasure Michel and I, Antoine.
The boys gently cajoled and encouraged us as we acquainted ourselves with their beautiful cocks and then, at a sign from Nicole, we both lowered our pretty faces, clasped hold of the boys' bare bums for support, parted our lips and took their majestic tools in our mouths. We licked and sucked and nibbled until we tasted the first few drops of pre-ejaculatory spend on our tongues-a flavoursome experience I can thoroughly and wholeheartedly recommend-then we swiftly swapped partners and I sucked Michel's prick and Nicole sucked Antoine's.
The darling boys were delighted by our little change-around and they shouted and moaned with erotic pleasure, becoming more than ever agitated and dangerously close, I felt, to shooting their salty sperm into our mouths instead of into our hot and yearning cunts-which of course would never do!
So in order to avoid the aforementioned-which would be premature in the extreme and guaranteed to leave us girls high and dry in so far as sexual gratification was concerned-we quickly uncocked.
Turning to face each other, Nicole and I slowly and gracefully fell into each other's arms, softly stroking and nuzzling and cooing little endearments and words of love, pressing our tits together and rubbing our stiff nipples against the other's warm, receptive flesh.
As our lips met and opened and we lost ourselves in deep, passionate kisses, our tongues entwining and probing the deepest recesses of each other's mouths, my fingers reached out and stroked and tickled Nicole's warm pussey.
Nicole, in turn, began to manipulate my yearning womanhood, her gentle finger running back and forth along the length of my juicy slit, softly massaging my little pink clitoris until I felt I'd die from the pleasure of it. And then I felt my climax approach and gave myself up to wave upon wave of erotic abandonment, panting and tossing my blonde head this way and that in ecstasy.
Temporarily sated, I gently pushed the smiling Nicole back on to the rug, parted her incredibly long legs and buried my golden head into her raven-haired muff, which was hot and fragrant with her musky love-juice. As I lapped and sucked at her aromatic cunt I felt her sigh and tremble, her breath catching in little ragged gasps of pleasure.
And then I became aware that events were taking another, not altogether unexpected, turn. Strong male hands took hold of my womanly, upraised hips and a rampant, throbbing prick nudged urgently at the opening of my swollen cunt-which must have been enticingly visible for quite some time with my legs parted and my arse thrust proudly in the air as it was.
Suddenly, as if convinced of his directorial accuracy, Michel or Antoine-for I did not as yet know to whom the cock belonged-gave a tremendous thrust and sheathed himself fully in my tight pussey, before holding tight to my bum and pumping back and forth with enviable speed and athleticism, and no small amount of panting and moaning.
Simultaneously, on opening her mouth to take a breath, Nicole became the proud recipient of another, no less desperate weapon, and found herself licking and sucking anew on this big, manly cock which began to fuck her mouth with passion, but also with great sensitivity in order not to overcome the poor girl with its splendid length and girth.
This glorious quadruple fuck drove all four of us to the very pinnacles of earthly delight and we all-Nicole, Michel, Antoine and myself-reached our respective climaxes within seconds of each other, shooting and oozing our sex emissions into each other's welcoming mouths and cunts.
After a while we all four collapsed in a warm, satisfied, lazy heap on the sandy rug and were in danger of dropping off to sleep, until the two boys yawned, stretched and jumped up, pulling us with them, and we all rushed headlong into the sparkling water where, in the manner of lusty young people everywhere, we laughed, swam, splashed each other's naked bodies and sported like a family of happy seals.
Some time later, companionably dripping, we returned to the rug and stretched out in the sun in order to dry ourselves before getting dressed and returning to the Academy. It was as I lay there in that wonderful state that lies between sleep and wakefulness, as naked as the day I was born and more than ever aware of the feel of God's fertile earth beneath me and the sensation of the sun and the water against my skin, my mind began to wander and I found myself recalling a delightful and rustic experience I'd enjoyed a few years previously.
Convinced that my friends would take pleasure in sharing with me my delicious reverie, I began to tell them of it.
'I had been staying on my uncle's farm in Dorsetshire,' I said. 'It was harvest-time, and all the able hands from miles around were busy at work in the fields. Each day my cousin Primrose and I would stroll about the countryside, and we would often pause to watch the time-honoured rituals of harvesting, threshing and haymaking.
'At this time of year, the labourers' whole families would come out to the fields to work alongside their menfolk. Even little children of five or six could be seen, busily carrying a few handfuls of hay to the stacks, an expression of earnestness about their angelic little faces.
'Primrose introduced me to some of the families that she knew from the village. There was Old Mother Moule, famed far and wide for her skills at mending. Her gnarled old fingers were now busily engaged with baling twine, and it was extraordinary to see how deftly she could gather up a sheaf of straw and tie it round. Then there was Mrs. Knight, the laundrywoman, who had exchanged the old brass boiler of her daily trade for the scythe, while her children scampered and squabbled about her feet.