Roland Harding - Teen Queen

And then it was upon them – all of them – in one sudden moment, together. Each howled as their great coming took place. Claudine and Louise squealed at the cascade of emotional flood that was unloosed by their climaxes. Hector, in his turn, was animal-like in his strength as he ferociously shot his bolt time and time again, deep into the womb of the woman who was beneath him. Claudine, feeling the squirts of semen drenching her insides, did a veritable split as she parted her legs to absorb all he could give. Louise, feverishly trying to trap forever inside her cunt the tongue that had sent her cascading vaginal juices spraying over her husband's face, moaned unashamedly.

So they struggled, fighting some demoniac sex battle there with the glorious name of fuck.

And presently, their passion spent, all lay limp and flaccid as they fell into blissful slumber.

Claudine's villa, some fifteen kilometers inland from Monte Carlo, was a reflection of its owner's personality. It was fussy and feminine, but in the most perfect taste. The carpets were deep, the curtains frilly, and the colours bright and startling. It was here that Louise and Hector had decided to bring Andrew, since he was too well known in the hotels of Nice to have visited the Hendersons' in either his or her suite.

Elegant in flannels, with a paisley scarf at the open throat of his silk shirt, he was quite a different personality from the Andrew who served with imperturbable deference at the Negresco.

"How do you achieve it?" asked Louise, in delighted admiration.

"I wouldn't know. Ingrained, I guess," he said, smiling. "Don't forget, I've spent tree years here in Europe training. And at home in South Africa my whole family's in the hotel business. My grandfather started with one. Dad added two more. Now we've got five of them. You get to know your place, I guess."

"But you do it so magnificently."

"Thanks. Good testimonial, that. Coming from you especially. Why don't you put it down in writing? Dad'd be pleased."

"Do you get testimonials, then?"

"Sure. Got a fistful of the things from here, Switzerland, London, Paris, everywhere I've been. It's the way my people measure my progress in Europe."

He lounged easily in the chintz-covered chair and Hector studied him. The resemblance between the two men was quite startling. Both were tall, a shade over six feet, broad-shouldered, lithe and slim of hip. Both had the clear eyes and crisp, vigorous hair of men who care born to a life in which sport and outdoor relaxation takes an equal part with hard, exacting work.

"This affair this afternoon," began Hector. "You're quite sure you want to go through with it?"

"Never been more sure of anything," Andrew replied. "I can think of nothing that's intrigued me so much in all my life. My only worry, in fact, is what sort of effect it's going to have on yon?"

"Don't give it another thought," said Louise. "We've done this before with Claudine, the woman who owns this house. She's Hector's mistress, just as you are my lover. The whole thing is just something that Hector and I are straightening out between us."

"So, you see, you're actually doing us a favor by participating." Hector interjected. "Well! Any little thing I can do," grinned Andrew. "Could I suggest some champagne, then, while we get started?"

"Great thought!" said Hector. "We'll have it in the bedroom, shall we?" Andrew wheeled the trolley bearing the wine in silently over the carpet. Louise led the way into Claudine's bedroom. At the far wall of the room was a vast bed, sumptuous under its coverlet of quilted silk. Louise danced over to it, and gaily threw herself back against the pillows.

"This," she said, "is going to be quite delicious. I can hardly wait. I'm all excited already!"

Andrew filled three glasses and impudently proposed a toast: "To friendship, and the weirdest test that's ever been imposed on it!"

Laughing, they drank deeply of the champagne, refilling to sip again.

"Come," said Louise. "Your first move, Andrew – take my clothes off!"

She undid a zip at the side of her frock and offered herself to Andrew. Gently, he drew the dress up over her head. She shook herself free of it with a dancing of hair, and stood in her underslip.

In a moment Andrew had that off as well. Both men gazed in rapt appreciation at the magnificence of Louise's figure, clad now only in brassier and the flimsiest of nylon panties. Through its gossamer, the inverted triangle of her pubic hair was visible.

"How wonderfully you're built!" said Andrew reverently, as Louise herself released the clasps of her brassiere, and removed the confining cups from the vast breasts. Her tittles were superb, magnificent in size and in sculpture, statuesque in their proud breathtaking molding. Such breasts can be found on one out of a million women. Louise was that one woman.

Andrew bent to them, bestowing upon each a kiss that was more a salute to sheer beauty than a kiss for sex provocation.

"They can't be real," he whispered. "So full, so fine, so utterly superb!"

Hector looked on, an amused smile playing about his eyes and lips. He approved of Andrew as a lover. The man, he thought, certainly knew how to handle a woman. He was genuine and unsparing of compliment. And Louise was basking in the admiration of her lover; how well, indeed, she had chosen the man to satisfy her need for infidelity!

By this time, the swelling of Andrew's organ inside his trousers was more than obvious. Louise flicked coquettishly and gaily at its outline.

"Isn't it time you also got undressed?" she teased. Andrew was quick to obey. Swiftly, but carefully, he shed his shirt, his scarf and his trousers. Shoes and socks followed, all in the time it took Louise to remove her suspender belt, her panties and her stockings.

Both Andrew and Louise were now completely naked and she came into her lover's embrace, pressing her pelvis hard into the loins of the man.

What a magnificent sight they made, thought Hector.

His own desires were already stimulated by watching the gyration of his wife's hips, grinding openly into the hips of her lover, their bodies were lithe and athletic. Neither carried an ounce of superfluous weight. Hector found himself approving, too, of the skill of Andrew, probing there with his enormous erection amid his wife's cunt hairs.

In Hector's own loins, his penis was rising at the lechery taking place before his eyes, and he did nothing to hold back his erection.

For long minutes, Andrew and Louise wriggled in the sexiness of their embrace, and Hector knew from his own experience just what his wife was feeling. Her eyes would be closed in rapture, he knew, for she lost consciousness fast. Very rapidly, under the influence of sex, she was freed of her inhibitions, so that her eyes would become glazed and her head would loll as she gave herself up to the grip of her randiness. Hector knew all this so very well.

He knew it could be happening now, and he wished desperately to be in Andrew's place. But, grimly, he resisted. It was, after all, at their own wish that this weird situation had been brought about.

Wetly, Louise was kissing Andrew, slobbering her need for sex deep into his mouth. She seemed to be all over him, now standing upon one leg, then on the other, to wrap her free leg about him, urging him blindly to pierce her with his prick.

Wildly, she fell back upon the bed, dragging Andrew down with her as her thighs spread, offering her cunt with imploring abandon to the majesty of his mighty truncheon. Andrew held off, refusing the sacrifice she presented.

Why doesn't he fuck me? thought Louise. Why doesn't he bore down into me like I want him to?

Thinking the reason might he his desire for more stimulation, she reached for his cock, grabbing it with both hands. Andrew yielded it to her, bending slightly backwards to deliver its entire mighty length into her ministering fingers.