R Finch - No longer virgin

"He's an accountant. But, there's nothing stuffy or old-fashioned about him, so don't worry about that. If there was, he wouldn't be hanging around with Sander."

"What does Sander do?" Wendy was curious.

"He makes movies," Sherry answered. "He's made quite a few since I've known him. Some of them are pretty good."

"No kidding!" Wendy looked up. "What kind of movies does he make?"

Sherry laughed. "He calls them art films. Actually, they're skin flicks. Porno movies. There's a lot of money in it, I suppose, and he's very good at it."

"He stars in them?"

"No, he directs them. You know, sets them up, then tells everybody what to do. He's great at it. I was even in a couple of them myself."

"You were fucked on film?" Wendy giggled, her eyes wide. She couldn't believe it!

"Sure," Sherry nodded, laughing. "It paid well. Besides, no one back in my home town will ever see it. And it was fun."

"God, you must not have a shy bone in your body!"

"Not many. In one film I sucked on two black guys cocks at the same time while another guy fucked me in the ass. I never saw so much cum in my entire life! And the whole time that was going on, this other girl was laying underneath me, licking my cunt. I can tell you, it sure wasn't boring!"

"I'll bet!" Wendy laughed.

"It'll be quite a while before Sander and Greg get here. A couple of hours, in fact." Sherry slipped one hand under the front of Wendy's filmy panties, squeezed the plump hairy bulge of her crotch. She parted the fleshy pink lips of Wendy's slippery cunt, probed between them. "Can't your ironing wait until tomorrow morning?" she breathed, already gently massaging Wendy's sweet tingling clit.

"I… I think so," Wendy said, shivered when Sherry kissed warmly along the nape of her neck. "Let's go in the bedroom and you can fuck me this time."

"What's wrong with right here on the carpet?" Sherry whispered, with her other hand was already tugging down Wendy's panties.

"Nothing," Wendy had to agree with a giggle. "Nothing at all."

Sander Baron was telling the sometimes almost serious – more often totally ridiculous – story of his entry into the erotic movie business. He sat cross-legged on the carpet next to Sherry, and every now and then gave her thigh an affectionate squeeze when she interjected, always laughing with a chiding, kidding remark. Wendy and Greg sat on the floor across from them, all four drinking from large glasses full of ice and red wine, all of them casually dressed and with their shoes off. The lights were turned low.

Wendy said very little, sipped at her wine, shyly smiled at Greg occasionally to let him know she was interested, mostly though, was laughing at the things Sander said. She'd decided to herself that Sander would probably be a fascinating person to spend any time with, that although Greg was very nice, Sander was decidedly the more spirited of the two. They looked enough alike to be brothers, both of them tall and lean with dark hair, looked to be in their late twenties. Greg was actually the more physically attractive, and yet still, he somehow lacked the full sense of aliveness that Sander seemed to possess.

"So, Wendy," Sander said finally, glanced at her with a trace of mischief in his eye, "how would you like to star in my next porno epic? It'll be a classic in sixteen millimeter cinema filth, I guarantee. An instant success! Especially with you handling the lead!" Sherry slapped his arm with a laugh and he laughed too, looking at her with mock bewilderment.

"I don't think so," Wendy stammered, felt her smooth cheeks flush slightly. She looked to Greg, who merely shrugged with a smile. She couldn't tell if Sander was serious or not, assumed he probably wasn't, at least hoped he wasn't. "I'd blush all over during the entire filming."

"Perfect!" Sander continued, got a warning glance and a pinch from Sherry who seemed no longer quite as amused as a second before. "What could be more perfectly natural, more obviously unstaged, then a young girl blushing at her nakedness? It's perfect! What wholesome decadence!"

And he held his large hands up, the points of his thumbs together, fingers straight up, as if to form and frame a picture of it in the air: "A sweetly innocent girl – a milkmaid, a virgin child, in the 17th century, perhaps – lost in an age of wanton lust and utter depravity, adrift and yet trying desperately to protect her youthful pristine virtue. She struggles, she loses! I love it! It's perfect!" And then he burst into laughter.

"I… I'd like to see something you've done," Wendy smiled, nodding.

Sherry said to Sander, "I think it's time for a little… discussion in the bedroom." And she stood up, took Sander's hand and pulled at it, giggling, until he stood also. "You kids have fun," she smiled at Wendy and Greg, and Sander shook his head with a laugh and followed her into the bedroom. They shut the door.

"Strange people," Greg laughed. "I never know what to expect next from either one of them. They're crazy, of course."

"He's nice, though," Wendy smiled at Greg. "And so are you. You're both so easy to talk to." She wouldn't have protested too greatly if he just picked her up off the floor and carried her into the bedroom.

He didn't, but he did lean over and kiss her full on the mouth, sucking at her soft lips.

Wendy responded warmly, managed to set her glass behind her on the floor, was soon lying on top of him, her slender arms wrapped around his neck, her lithe body pressed passionately against him. She felt a bit light-headed from the wine she'd had, was emboldened by it somewhat. "Let's go to my room," she murmured, ran her finger teasingly along the line of his jaw. "Let's get in my bed."

"Let's," he laughed, and a few minutes later they lay on Wendy's bed, tightly in each other's arms, his mouth pressed hotly to hers.

"You're so firm and rubbery," Greg breathed, running his hands all over her, through her clothes squeezed her warm buttocks, her pert breasts, the round vibrant backsides of her thighs.

He began to take off her blouse.

Wendy began as quickly to undress him, her large eyes bright, her hands pulling at his belt. "I want to suck your cock," she said. He laughed, obviously surprised at her bluntness. She added with a giggle, "I want you to come in my mouth."

She raised herself up, finally had Greg's pants and underwear to his knees, his stiffened cock standing straight up between his legs. Wendy took it in her hands, moved to it, kneeling beside him. She looked at his throbbing hardness carefully, her eyes devouring it with her need, swallowed hard. She was amazed at how big around it was, seriously doubted her ability to even get it up into her tight cunt, still, was looking forward to at least trying. She caressed it with her fingertips, lowered her head, began rubbing the twitching shaft of it all over her pretty face. Greg watched, fascinated by her intensity.

With her moist lips Wendy kissed the swollen crown, with her teeth nibbled lightly, then with her fingers moved to the fleshy sac that hung between his legs, felt him tremble. She giggled, began to lick at his thickly veined cock, smacking her lips on it wetly, finally popped the engorged head fully into her mouth. She sucked on him, darting her tongue, felt his cock throbbing and jerking, alive with sensation, felt it throbbing even more wildly when she worked her moist tongue warmly over the smooth head. She probed with her tongue at the tiny slit of his glans, toying with it, and began to quickly masturbate him, squeezing with her slender fingers until the head of it was so swollen she thought it would burst in her mouth.

Greg moaned, pumping his hips against her, trying to push his stiff cock yet more deeply into her sucking mouth. He had her slacks and panties pulled down and reached between her damp thighs, searched for and found her lushly slick cunt. Wendy gasped, tried to spread her knees wider apart for him. She slid her knees back a bit to give him more room, was thrilling to the feel of his fingers within her, poking at and manipulating her hot little cunt, pulling gently at her quivering clit.