When
Ariella awoke, she was seated in one of the easy chairs in Miss
Peacock’s office, covered in a light blanket. Her clothes were lying in a
neat pile next to her, smelling fresh and newly ironed. On a small
table was a note. “Finishing class, back soon, stay and rest
x x x Gabriella P.”
Gabriella Peacock was an Animagus, Ariella realised. A witch who could shapeshift, in her case, into a white cat.
With
a small flash of magic, Gertrude, the house elf reappeared and leered
at Ariella. “Enjoy sex do we, young human?
It
had started not long after the Double Necromancy lesson began. Only
Slither-In alumni tended to take Necromancy, because of its dark
reputation. It involves communing with dead spirits and summoning demons
and the like. Unlike the Divinity classroom, which had tables and
benches with enough room, as Ariella had discovered, for under the table
Kama Sutra practice, the Necromancy classroom had modern writing tablet
chairs. They were set in a curve in front of the teacher’s desk.
It
is said that the reason the Necromancy classroom was gifted with modern
furniture was that a couple of years back, the appearance of a
particularly fiery demon had incinerated the old furniture in the room.
Ariella
and the new French dame were enjoying some girl-on-girl exploration on
the day they moved into the women’s dorms at Briarwood College of
Incanting Arts. The freshman coeds decided to make a contest of which of
them would prevail as ‘Briarwood College Sex Goddess’.
Suddenly
there was a flash and the raucous sound of male voices cheering.
“Magic!” one shouted and the gals parted and sat up quickly to view a
neat hole in the wall that separated their room from that of the guys on
the other staircase. “Magic!” he repeated “What do you think of that
spell, ladies?
While boarding school did a reasonable job of separating guys and gals, The Briarwood College of Incanting Arts could not stop us being normal horny teens and experimenting. They had separate single sex boarding houses, but this generally meant that, at night, gals would experiment with gals and guys would experiment with guys. Then they would experiment with the opposite sex in small forgotten rooms and outbuildings and in the woods and fields that surrounded the college.
We
were sitting cuddling together on the sofa when Colin arrived, with Mia
in tow. Angie had offered to cook that afternoon and we were trying to
decide what we fancied. I suggested a chilli con carne with rice. Angie
decided otherwise.
"Kids," she called. They wandered in from the kitchen with glasses of milk and a chocolate biscuit each.
"If
I go shopping for ingredients, would you two help me cook tea tonight?"
The two teens shared a look and agreed. "Right," she announced,
standing up. "Go and sort out your homework with grandad; I'll go
shopping."
I
stood and went to get my wallet. She glared at me. "Go on. Do it," she
challenged me. "I bloody dare you to offer me money to get food for the
people I care about."
We
had paid for the J and W Rum and left the store when a rather naughty
thought occurred to me, and I freely admit to being both deeply ashamed
and inordinately proud of it at the same time. "Why not ask Tony if we
can rent the upstairs room at The Black Swan for a couple of hours," I
suggested. "That way you can have a proper birthday party in private and
we could see how it might work for our wedding."
"Isn't a bit big for just us seven girls? Or, I suppose nine if Wendy and Jane come along too."
"I
was thinking of popping along as well, if I'm welcome," I told her,
mischievously. "I thought that I might also invite some friends. You
know, for a bigger audience for the birthday girl's special treat." I
gave special a very sleazy emphasis.
"You wouldn't!" She gasped in astonished horror a moment later, as she realized what I was proposing.
"It's her fantasy," I reminded her. "At our age, when would she ever get the chance again?"
I
guided my friend through to join the women and helped him to the head
of the table. Megan sat to his right, Lucy to his left. I sat opposite
him, Marie to my right, Angie to my left. Rather than a traditional
Sunday roast, Megan had ordered a beef wellington with horseradish
mashed potatoes, and green vegetables sautéed in garlic butter. The
ladies were at ease in their near nudity; Angie having, just about,
covered her bare tits with some pointless scrap of translucent fabric.
The
men, well, we did them the courtesy of admiring them. The conversation
was surprisingly normal, by our standards at least. Lucy expressed her
gratitude at being offered a place to stay. She was a little overwhelmed
when Megan corrected her. Not a place to stay; a home.
I
shared the photo that Mike had sent me, showing Eddie with his new
friend. "He rejected Lucy for HER?" Was Charles' incredulous response.
Lucy was more sanguine. As far as she was concerned, Eddie had made his
preference clear. In her mind she was already single, with an entire
team of people willing to love her and a wealth of emotions that she
needed to set out on canvas. That thought also reminded her. The day we
christened her studio, she was determined to make a mold of my
genitalia, while I was erect.
"How many castings are you intending to make?" I asked, in all innocence.
"A
dozen or so in latex or silicone rubber for your Harem, or the Coven as
Marie refers to us." I shrugged. That seemed a lot but, what the hell.
The
girls, and Lucy in particular, wanted me to find the inner me. So I had
and, as illustrated by my behavior that evening, I had found that my
inner me was a bit of a twat. I still liked giving women orgasms, but
the dark side of me enjoyed it even more when it was on my terms. Oh,
Lucy was going to come tonight, of that there was no doubt, but it would
be when and how I chose.
She
yelled imprecations at me, slandering my parentage, my masculinity and,
for some bizarre reason, my dress sense. That offended me because Marie
guides me in sartorial matters and my wife was, therefore, insulted by
proxy. So I took out the flogger, the one with the forty eight leather
laces, and laid it on Lucy's bare backside.
My
name is Geoff. If you are reading my stories in chronological order you
will know that my wife and I are both retired and involved, sexually,
with several of her friends. One in particular, Angie, is so close to us
that we have invited her to be a third person in our relationship and,
to that end, we are planning a Star Wars themed ceremony to celebrate
our union in front of family and friends.
Gone Dancing.
This
account begins one Thursday, when our grandson had invited a friend's
mum to visit us after school. Colin, said grandson, had asked us if he
could invite Mia, a school friend, to our wedding as his plus-one. I
agreed, on condition that her mum was okay with Mia attending and
approved of her choice of outfit. As we were having our costumes
designed and made by students at the local university's fashion design
faculty, at our expense, I had veto rights and I thought Mia's choice
was fine. But still, if Mia's mum thought that her daughter's costume
would be inappropriate, they would have to agree on something else. That
was why I wanted to meet them both.
I
was standing in front of another of Lucy’s works, 'The Girls', trying
to decide which element was Marie when I felt an arm slide around my
waist. I looked to find my favorite artist alongside me. I bent down,
intending to kiss her forehead but she had other ideas. Her arm snaked
around my neck and pulled me into a full on passionate kiss. Marie
looked on from across the gallery, amused.
"There,"
Lucy said, sounding slightly frustrated. "I suppose that will have to
keep me going until Wednesday." She strode off to talk to my wife.
Jen,
who had been admiring the work next to me gave me an old fashioned
look. "I'm definitely not going to ask, but if you ever feel the need to
explain?"
"I'm
not sure that I can," I admitted. "If you really want to know, then ask
the artist," I pointed to Lucy, still chatting to my wife. "to explain
the meaning behind that work." I pointed to the one I'd found so
compelling. "Be sure to tell her who you and Peter are first though."
I
was bringing in the bedsheets from the washing line when my lovelies
got home. Colin was inside doing his art homework alone as I'm afraid
that art isn't my forté. From the way Angie bounced up the path like a
tall, supple Tigger, I assumed that their mission had been successful.
Marie followed behind at a more stately pace, but I could tell by her
expression that she was pleased.
Marie
finally caught up with our friend. "She's not wrong, Geoffrey," she
admitted. "The moment we saw it, we knew that was the one." She felt
into her handbag and took out a small square box.
"Just like you and me then," I reminded her, kissing the top of her head.
"You'll get anywhere saying things like that, you smooth devil," my wife smiled as she showed me our purchase.
"So
what happens now?" I asked. It appeared that they were in the dark too.
Did we give her it now, like an engagement ring? Or wait until the
ceremony, like a wedding ring?
Angie
arrived in time for tea on Tuesday evening and, being a math genius,
helped Colin with his math homework. Well why waste an opportunity like
that? Marie politely declined our invitation to join us at the pub later
that evening for two reasons; first, it was likely to be a very nerdy
conversation and she'd just feel marginalized; second, it was likely to
involve a discussion of submissive lifestyles, something she really
doesn't really engage with: She prefers Angie as a playmate rather than a
plaything.
So
anyway, she thought it would be better for all concerned if it were
only Emily, Adrian, Angie and me involved. Truth be told, she had the
latest Richard Osman book to start, and she fancied a quiet night in.
We
watched the first episode of The Mandalorian before we left for the pub
and I'm sure that my wife enjoyed it even more than her muted, "I
suppose it was okay." suggested.
Eventually,
by nine o'clock that Saturday morning, we had all showered and made our
way downstairs for breakfast. I was last into the kitchen as I'd
graciously allowed the women to go first. The dressing gowns that we'd
bought for our Wednesday sessions came in useful in that Sue and Margie
weren't faced with wearing their dancing dresses to eat in.
I
think they were both surprised at how relaxed the atmosphere was, I
mean they had both fucked their hostess's husband the night before.
Angie broke a comfortable silence as we ate. "Geoff. You know what you
promised?" She meant the anal bareback that she'd been harping on about
for a while.
"Yes my love?"
"Well,"
It was unusual for Angie to hesitate; if anything, her life would be
much simpler if she did think more before speaking. "The thing is, would
you mind if Sue and Margie came shopping to the naughty store and,
maybe?" She looked at me as shyly as I'd ever seen her. "Could they
watch while you sort of; do me? You know? Up the bum?" Marie snorted at
the look on my face.
When
we heard voices from the other bedroom we got up and followed the
others downstairs. Marie and Jo were laughing together when we arrived
in the kitchen, so lesbian love hadn't offended Jo too much. Marie
looked at Kate as we entered. "Hi babe. How was it for you?"
Kate smiled at her friend. "I just need to get laid so much. Now I feel so good that I can't find the words to describe it."
Marie looked at me. "And what about you?"
"A
gentleman never tells," I said. "Other than to compliment you on your
choice of friends. I have enjoyed this evening immensely; but I'm
wondering how you ladies would like to end it. Shall I take a quick
shower while you pour me a glass of wine and decide?" And I left them to
it.
I
was back downstairs in less than ten minutes, intrigued as to Jo and
Kates' decision. Were they orgasmed out, did they want to play together
or did they want to try a foursome?
A retired couple have an intriguing offer for her friends.
Main characters.
Geoff;
The narrator. A retired materials scientist. Mid-sixties. 5 foot 10
inches, ex amateur rugby player, still swims, runs and walks to keep
fit. More than adequately equipped to satisfy his wife.
Marie;
Geoff's wife. A retired modern languages lecturer. Same age as her
husband. 5 foot 2 inches voluptuous build, with D cup tits and
proportionate bum and hips. Shoulder length brown hair, brown eyes and
olive skin inherited from her French grandmother.
Angie;
Marie's best friend. A mathematician who claims to be retired. Geoff
suspects that she still consults as a cryptographer for M I 5 at GCHQ
but she won't discuss it. Early sixties. 5 foot 10 inches, slender
athletic build. Firm B cup tits, brown hair and famously dirty mind.
Even
with my science degrees, I never really sat and thought about it in
much more detail. And now; well here I was, exploring my wife's inner
mysteries with my cock. Her channel felt very different to a cunt and
the sphincter gripping round my root felt a little intimidating; like it
could grip really tight and cut off my circulation.
Anyway, we were where we were, so I sought guidance. "Are you okay, love?" I was starting to feel a little guilty.
