Hugh Kissasse - A Little Night Nookie

Suddenly, a hand touched my front and a male voice said, "Oops. Sorry."

"Think nothing of it," I said, to Mr. Invisible. There were two of them, it seemed; a second voice said, "Who's that?"

"I'm Honey," I told him.

"I'm Pete," one of the voices said. "And he's Van."

Somebody's hand was running up my leg, and I didn't mind at all, actually.

"Hey, you're…" the voice called Van said, in a tentative way. It was probably his hand, I suspected; his fingers were touching my mound in a tickly fashion, and he sounded quite surprised.

"I sort of lost my clothes," I said demurely. Another hand reached me, higher up, and since it seemed to be a right hand too, I guessed that this would be Pete.

"You sure did," he said.

Those hands turned me right back on. I couldn't suppress a sexy noise, somewhere between a deep breath and a giggle.

"Well, well," Pete said cozily. "Hi, Honey." He made a couple of more tours, tweaking nipples here and there, while I could distinctly hear the other one, Van, breathing pretty hard somewhere.

All of a sudden I felt a bristly male chin on my bare thighs, and hot lips; Van was apparently kneeling in front of me, and his hands had grabbed around, cupping my bottom and pulling me toward him. My legs moved apart, in a reflex sort of way, and the invisible Van put out an invisible, but clearly feelable tongue. Whoever he was, he was an expert; that tongue slid right in, curling around, and hit the exact pink, twanging center of my clitoris.

"Oh, Golly!" I said

.

Then I noticed that there was a big, hard muscled male body right behind me, too- Pete's, I supposed. He had his arms around me, one hand on each breast, and his hips pressed against mine; I could feel his meaty rod tucked up against my rear, throbbing. I was doing my own share of throbbing, with Van's mouth busy down there, and I let out a couple of eeps and oohs as he got really active.

"You're tickling the girl, Van," Pete said, over my shoulder.

"Yummies," Van said, between my thighs. "Sure am."

"Isn't it a bit frustrating, Miss?" Pete asked, in my ear. "I mean, wouldn't you rather?.

"Ooh, yes, I'd… oh, wow, but I like that too," I said, a little confusingly. It didn't seem to confuse Pete at all, though.

"I'll just have to, Van, ol' buddy," Pete said.

"Mmm," Van said, and gave me a final maddening tingle. "So you do, Petey, buddy."

And so he did, with a minimum of fooling around. He turned me around to face him and still standing up, he lifted me a little, slid his hard thighs between mine and sat me down on his extended stingeroo, thump. In spite of all the satisfying events with Ginger, this was much, much better. Pete pushed his tool slowly and wove it around, using his hands with a lot of skill; this one was no amateur. He held me up off my feet and pushed in, harder, harder, until I was gasping with ecstasy and finally let go, as I came with him, both of us panting wildly.

As Pete's hot hands relaxed, I suddenly felt I another pair of hands on my waist, and found myself lowered to the warm sand.

It was Van, sure enough; once more I was penetrated deeply, and I floated away in a pink ocean of pleasure, hearing myself wailing happily as he went at it.

"Whee, Honey girl!" he was gasping in my ear, thumping away. "You… you really like it, hey?"

"I love it!" I told him, wrapping myself around him like an octopus. "Go, GO!"

Big pink bubbles were bursting all over now and I scrabbled at his back, as he rose toward a climax.

"Eeee!" I squealed, and he exploded like a spaceship taking off.

This time I wasn't ready to move for quite some while. But from the heavy breathing on each side of me, my two recent accomplices weren't either. I lay on my back, absolutely glowing; I was surprised I didn't actually sort of light up, like a hot poker.

After several minutes, I heard a sound-a hiss.

"Psst!"

It was Dottie, all right.

"We'd better get out of here," she whispered. "I lost my bikini bottom, too, damn it."

"So did I," I said. "Come ON."

We managed to bring the car back into Dottie's garage before the sun actually came up. We would have had no end of trouble explaining our appearance to any of the nosier types who might have seen us in the light. Peering into mirrors in the cold grey light of morning both of us looked a little ghastly.

"Like something the cat dragged in," Dottie said, checking a bruised ear.

"No respectable cat would touch me," I said. My hair hung like a wrung mop.

"How could we?" Dottie said. "Honey, I… I mean, are we crazy?"

I giggled reminiscently. "Maybe," I said. "But would you rather give up men, or something?'

Dottie blushed and shook her head. "I guess we're just sex fiends."

"So, let's live with it," I said. "Now, who gets the hot tub first?"

I've heard that science has found out that the female is sort of less destructible than the male, or something like that; I mean, they have the muscles and all, but we women out.. last them, you might say. It's probably true. That morning, Dottie and I managed to look our normal selves again inside an hour, and we even managed to get some of the neglected homework done.

Not only that, but we were in school the next day, looking just as scrubbed and virginal as ever.

Not that it did a bit of good, alas. I mean, we tried, but when Friday arrived, Dottie called me, her voice sounding as gloomy as a funeral on the phone.

"It didn't help my psychology," she said.

"You mean you're going to fail too?" I asked.

"I'm definitely flunking English," she said. "You mean you're flopping math? Gee, I thought… didn't you say all that stuff was going to help our psychologies?"

"I don't think Mr. Strong cares about psychology," I said, meaning my math instructor, who was a very groovy looking cat, but a Capitan Bligh type.

"Mr. Zeller doesn't either," Dottie said.

"Maybe we aren't flunking because our sex lives weren't fulfilled," I said, thoughtfully. "Maybe we're just dumb."

"But it certainly didn't look good. The term was almost over, and there wasn't going to be another chance to up those awful grades, except for one more test.

"Maybe we ought to give up men until June," Dottie suggested.

"Shudder," I told her. "Suicide first. We aren't going to pass that test, you know. Not with out heads…" I stopped, with a glorious thought. "But maybe…"

"I dig that Mr. Strong," Dottie said, wrinkling her brow. "Now if I asked him to give you just a little bit of a chance on those grades…"

"And if l asked your Mr. Zeller the same thing for you…"

"Only why would they do it?" Dottie asked.

"We could seduce them," I said. "I saw a French movie on the late show… Brigitte Bardot did the same thing."

"You aren't Brigitte Bardot," Dottie pointed out.

"I'm a lot younger," I said. "So, if I got seduced… I could threaten to tell."

"Wow!" Dottie said.

"And if I get your instructor and you get mine, it's not so… unethical," I said. "It's unselfish. Isn't it?" Well, it all made perfectly good sense at the time.

Getting it all done required some planning, but for a couple of scheming chicks like ourselves, it was easy. At least, my half was, but you would hardly expect anyone to plan for the sort of thing Dottie ran into.

But for me, it was simply a matter of ogling Mr. Zeller, who was a fairly susceptible type, as I could plainly see. He almost burst a button on the day I managed to let him catch a good look at my leg; the day after, I succeeded in letting a very interesting gap appear in my blouse, and from his expression, I could tell he was hooked. After that, it was just a matter of getting him into the right place at the right time.