Sexier Side of the Hill Page 2

  And he was right, completely and totally correct. I’ve always had a voracious sexual appetite and I have never apologised for it. Mostly I attribute my laid back attitude to my parents who were out and out hippies, bless their hearts. They were never embarrassed by any question I asked and they’d never once given me a negative vibe when it came to sex. I have always been thankful to them as I have never had to deal with crippling guilt and doubt about the rightness of my sexual actions. I think Darren really appreciated this in me and I wonder if it was one of the main things he had found attractive when we first met at university. There had been any number of younger girls he could have gone with, but no, he chose me.

  Darren had once said he would throw me a massive fortieth bash, and we would prove to the world that I wasn’t over the hill. Darren is twelve years younger than me. He’d always wanted to be a doctor and his enthusiasm for the job made my heart sing.

  He’s hot and not quite young enough to be my son. He has the most expressive icy blue eyes that charmed old ladies, children and hot-blooded women alike. I was amazed when he’d approached me at a friend’s party, turned on by his kiss and ecstatic when he’d slipped his fingers into my knickers and made me come right there as we’d danced.

  It had set the tone for our relationship. Public orgasms had become addictive. We went to parties several times a week, and we would come at all of them. I remembered so many different positions like sitting in his lap, no knickers and his fat cock lodged inside of me, poking out from his harsh denim trousers. Sometimes we hid our sex but other times we were on display.

  The first time we were watched was an accident. We were going at it like rabbits in a backroom after the slow tease of close dancing when a woman walked in to put her coat on the bed. The coat fell from her fingers and I pushed Darren to get him off me so I could cover up. He wouldn’t stop and she didn’t leave. She watched and as she watched she took off her clothes. After she’d stripped and Darren had filled me with his hot juices, she knelt between my thighs and cleaned me up.

  Fuck that was hot.

  That woman, Jean, met us at many parties that year. Sometimes she would pretend to catch us at it, just watching or punishing us for our lewd behaviour.

  Those were the days before exam pressure, my first experience of death at work and my stupid fucking mistake that had cost me Darren. I thought since we were so blasé about people joining in on our fucking that I could go off and fuck a man on my own quite merrily. Darren hadn’t agreed. When he’d discovered I’d been with someone behind his back, he’d gone crazy. He’d yelled and screamed and cried. He’d said he loved me. He’d told me he’d thought he’d found his soul mate and I’d ruined it.

  I didn’t go to any parties after that. It was my last year and the heartbreak actually helped me to knuckle down and study. I still missed him and had invited him to my party, fully expecting him to stay away. Last I’d heard, he’d married a lady surgeon from his hospital. I had to invite him. I’d traced down every other person from our circle of friends, so I couldn’t leave him out.

  I tried really hard to convince myself I only invited him to save face but really, I’d invited him because I’d hoped time had healed that old wound. I hadn’t exactly had time to look for anyone else with the pressure of being a newly qualified doctor, and the men I’d dated hadn’t come close to measuring up to Darren. I know it was sad, a grown woman still pinning away like that, but I couldn’t seem to stop it.

  It was weird, the silence that fell over Paul, Simon and I as we travelled the few extra minutes to Dover. I wondered if I’d been mistaken, but I could have sworn more fun was afoot that day but Paul snored beside me and Simon kept his face buried in his newspaper. I boiled away angrily, pissed off to be left so wanting. Darren would never have left me like this. He was always aware of my pleasure.

  They didn’t look at me as we fished out our passports for customs or even when we walked off the coach and onto the ferry for the hour and half journey across the English Channel. I sat in the main lounge, stared out of the window at the horizon and sipped slowly from a small cup of expensive, weak tea.

  “I wondered where you’d got to.” Simon strode over to me, held out his hand and nodded his head towards the door. “Come with me.”

  I know men are strange, unpredictable creatures, but as I took his big hand and allowed myself to be pulled through the lounge, I really did wonder what was going on. I was tempted to be angry. He’d ignored me after receiving a very satisfying hand job, and now he was demanding I do things for him. The closet feminist hidden deep within railed at this treatment. However, it seemed my slut instinct was still in full control of my aching-for-an-orgasm body at that moment. I meekly followed as Simon briskly walked and dragged me out of the glass doors and into the brisk air of the deck.

  “It’s your turn now.” Paul grinned as he pulled me down onto a wide bench beside him.

  “I don’t think I have any swellings.” I laughed, a little confused by the circumstances.

  “No, but I think you have a leak.” Simon sat beside me and leant in, his hand trailed down over my stomach and his fingers plucked at the button on my jeans.

  “Oh, I didn’t think anyone could tell.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed, madam.” Paul nodded. “We’re good at what we do. I’m sure no one else would have noticed.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and casually rested a thick hand on my breast as his friend eased down my zip and slipped his fingers inside.

  “Oh, yes her knickers are soaked,” Simon reported. He looked straight past me to Paul, and I felt a strange thrill at being examined like a car or a piece of meat.

  “Let me check.” Paul’s voice quavered and let me know they weren’t as detached as they attempted to appear. His fingers replaced his friend’s. They felt stubbier and rougher as they were forced between my pussy’s lips, pressing the damp material between my sensitised folds.

  The seagulls above us cried out with lusty abandon. I wished I could too but I was in public again. Although it seemed no one else was braving the wind, someone could walk past at any moment.

  “I need to find the source of the leak and deal with it,” he explained.

  “And I need to help,” Simon added as his fingers snaked under the black material, too. I stretched my thighs as their fingers fought and sought, arousing me as they groped and grabbed, squeezed and stroked.

  “I’ve found it,” Paul gasped. His finger slipped between my slick lips and sunk into my clutching hole.

  Simon’s finger that had rested on my clit now slipped up and down, and I stifled a moan of erotic joy. Two different hands manipulated me, two bodies crushed against mine and two gorgeous men went all out to make me come. I felt like a princess.

  It was difficult not to scream with pleasure. I buried my face in Simon’s shoulder and held on to Paul’s T-shirt as they coaxed an orgasm from me. The cold wind whipped past my cheek as my warm juices coated their fingers, and I bit into the soft flesh of Simon’s neck to stop the noise bursting forth from my lips.

  “Sorry,” I apologised as a wave of contentment lapped over me.

  “No need to apologise,” he replied. He kissed my cheek and the intimacy made my cunt tremor again.

  “Someone’s coming,” Paul hissed and broke the moment. Their hands whipped from my pants, as mine dove low to zip and button my pants. We talked inanely about the sun and the wind until the man had walked past, then we laughed with relief once he was out of ear shot.

  Together, we made our way back to the coach. There was no question that we were now friends. We had an orgasmic link that melded us into a group. It was just about lunchtime, and I was confident the day would only get better. I’ve always been greedy and my body still craved more—more Simon, more Paul and about a million more orgasms.

  We settled in the back corner of the bus. I lay my head on Paul’s shoulder as he dozed. Simon’s hand rested gently on my thigh. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon moment. I
felt like I was filled with Sunday lunch and content just to be. I knew I’d be hungry again soon, and I ran through the sexual menu in my mind, lazily weighing up the options and wondering what I might have next.

  Chapter Two

  It’s amazing how quickly complete strangers can become friends and lovers, and as we pulled in to the hypermarket, it seemed I’d known these two cheeky lads forever. We climbed off the bus together, grabbed one of the massive, heavy-duty trolleys and trundled off into cheap booze heaven.

  As we walked up and down mile long aisles, we chatted and laughed. We played “Pass the pinch”. For a while, we passed along pinches to the arse between the three of us quite successfully—that is until both Simon and Paul ganged up on me by the beer and attacked a butt cheek each. I was so ripe for the taking at that moment, I’d have fucked in the aisle without a care for the passersby if either of them had urged me to.

  I picked up several bottles of spirits and a couple of crates of beer, then Simon helped me to pick a few cheap but good wines. I watched patiently as he picked out proper wine for his cellar, exclaiming his admiration for the French with each new bottle he caressed.

  The fun part came as I packed. I wrapped my bottles in old sheets, placed them inside my empty suitcase, artistically arranging the cans in between. It took a little thought, and after I stopped listening to the lads’ directions, I actually got all but one can to fit.

  Paul took the extra tin. He grinned and flicked the ring pull, relishing the bubbling hiss of released lager. “My reward for doing all that shopping.”

  “We’ve got a good hour and a half before we have to go back,” Simon said as he glanced at his watch. Others of our party had just entered the hypermarket after using their time to look at the French scenery.

  “Oh, let’s just go back to the coach,” I sighed. “The driver said he’d be there to let us on.”

  “Good idea,” said Paul. “This beer seems to have set off that old problem of mine again.”

  So we walked back across the immense car park, the warm autumn breeze caressing our cheeks, the sun shining down and warming our backs. We weren’t interested though. Our carnal desires had taken over, and we were eager to indulge them.

  “Good timing was that.” The driver nodded gruffly. “I was just about to go grab myself somethin’ to eat. You can watch the coach.”

  “Sure, no problem.” I smiled as he lifted my heavy, wheeled suitcase into the luggage hold. “How long will you be?”

  “Oh, I’ll be back before the others, no doubt. Say about forty-five minutes, maybe an hour.”

  “Okay,” I replied, “See you later.”

  The lads were already on the bus, and they grinned widely as I walked up the corridor between the seats towards them.

  “Well, that certainly was good timing,” Paul commented as he pulled me into his arms and nudged his nose under my top to kiss across my stomach.

  “Very good timing,” added Simon as he stood behind me and pulled off my jacket and then my top.

  “What if someone comes back early?” I gasped as Simon’s cold fingers popped open my bra.

  “They can join in or go away until we’ve finished,” Paul said. His blond hair tickled my stomach as his kisses rose higher. Simon threw my bra onto the chairs beside us and wrapped his arms around me. He cupped my breasts, lifted them and squeezing them in his big, manicured hands. I moaned loudly for the first time that day. Being hidden away inside the vehicle gave me the confidence I needed to let it all go.

  Simon played happily with my breast and Paul went to work on my jeans. As he popped the button and lowered the zip, I kicked off my comfy shoes. He pulled the jeans and my knickers down and off my legs. I was suddenly naked, apart from my socks, on the backseat of a bus in some hypermarket car park in France and I loved it.

  Paul lowered his head and held my lips apart with one hand as he stuck out his long, lithe tongue and tickled my clit. Slipping lower, he lapped up my juices.

  “I’ve wanted to do that since I laid eyes on you,” he groaned as he came up for air, his stubble glistening like golden tinsel with the moisture.

  He stood then, and his jeans fell to the floor. He kissed me and while I ground my lips against Paul’s, Simon’s fingers dropped to my waist. One hand slipped into the wetness of my eager cunt. Paul pulled down his boxers. The slight bend pulled his lips from mine, and they sought out the points of my nipples which ached from lack of stimulation. His rough suckling made me gasp as Simon slammed a long finger inside my slick passage.

  “She’s ready,” he said, and with his spare hand, he passed a condom to Paul.

  “Oh fuck, yes, I’m ready,” I groaned as Paul opened it and eased it over his thick erection. Sitting down, he swivelled in the chair and lay down, his head by the window and his feet in the aisle.

  “Take your seat please, ma’am.” Simon slipped his finger from my cunt as he spoke and I eagerly climbed onto the back seat, my knee resting precariously close to the edge of the seat as I lowered myself down onto that fat, inviting cock. I felt Simon’s breath on my buttocks as I sank down and was thrilled to think he was getting such a close look at my cunt lips splitting around Paul’s cock as my pussy eagerly slipped down it.

  “Fuck,” Paul hissed, pulling my full attention back to him. I dropped my head and kissed him, his dry lips stuck to mine as I tasted the sweet bitter lager lingering on his palate. My attention was then pulled back to Simon as his sticky finger rubbed over my arsehole. A moment later the tip popped inside.

  “Shit,” I cursed. “You could have warned me.”

  “That takes away half the fun,” he replied. “Anyhow, I’m only loosening you up for my cock.”

  “Oh, no.” I shook my head. “You’re not going up there without masses of lube.”

  “That’s alright then. I’ve got masses of lube.” He stretched over and dangled a tube in front of my face. “And a condom. Any objections?”

  “No,” I gasped. In fact, I was eager to feel his cock inside me. “What kind of man carries a tube of lube with him on a day trip to France?”

  “A bi man,” Paul growled as my cunt contracted around him with pleasure. Of course, it all slipped in to place then as Simon’s slicked up finger massaged the lube into my anal canal, the action erotic beyond belief.

  “So you do, you know, live together.” I groaned as Paul’s teeth nipped at my swaying breasts.

  “Yes, we do,” Simon said. I heard the crinkle of foil as he released the condom from its packet. “But we find it scares off women if we tell them that from the start.”

  “We’re a double act,” Paul said after his mouth loosened from around my still throbbing nipple.

  “And a bloody good one at that,” I replied. My body was on fire with lust. So many erogenous zones were being stimulated at once, including my often neglected brain. It was funny that in all my time with Darren I’d never been taken by two men. Simon and Paul were my first, and I was out of my mind with excitement.

  Simon’s hairless legs brushed the back of my thighs as he positioned his legs around both me and Paul. The fur of the back of the seat was replaced by hot calf as he leaned in. Gently, he pressed his cock to my aching hole.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, the strain of holding back apparent in his voice.

  “Yes,” I squeaked out and felt his cock head pop inside me. The world does not hold enough words to describe how full I felt as that slim, strong dick slipped into me. With each push I thought I would pass out, the pleasure of double penetration too much for one woman to handle.

  Simon gripped my hips and forced himself in and out of me. His action pushed me down onto Paul while I just held on for the ride. The two cocks pressed against each other parted only by the thin membrane between them, and with each thrust, it seemed they fucked each other through me. When I managed to open my eyes for a second, Paul’s gaze was fixed solidly on Simon and a course of pleasure shot through to my cunt as I realised I was being used fo
r their pleasure. I was certainly getting my share of thrills and being a vehicle for their lust inspired me to multiple orgasms. With those two determined dicks inside me, rubbing my clit against Paul’s pelvis and manipulating my sensitive G-spot from all angles, I came and I came and I came.

  As one release ended another started. I barely had a moment to gasp a breath before screaming out the next orgasm. The men panted and cursed as I stiffened and thrashed, sandwiched between them. Just as I started to lose count and consciousness, Simon roared and I felt his cock throb in my arse, his own orgasm achieved.

  He slipped away and out of me and I heard him fasten himself up. I knew Paul hadn’t come yet, so I looked down in to his eyes.

  “It’s the condom,” he groaned, his face tight with arousal. “I can’t quite get enough stimulation through it.”

  “Well then,” I replied, mellow and giving after my multi-marathon. “We shall have to take it off.” I gingerly lifted off him, my hips aching in that special pleasurable way that only happens after a damn good fuck, and slipped to the floor beside him. I pulled off his condom, but before I could take him in my mouth Simon did.

  I had never before seen a man suck a dick and was amazed by how erotic a sight it was. His thick, black lips pursed so beautifully around the fat girth of his friend and he didn’t flinch at the rubbery taste I knew he’d experience because of the condom. Suddenly, the mellowness turned to lust once more, and I had to do something about it. I slipped my fingers between my thighs and fingered my wet hole, moaning as Paul cursed and his cock throbbed.

  “I want to taste you,” Paul said, his voice strained, and I wanted him to taste me. I wanted to cover his face in my juices so I climbed back onto the seat, my thighs now split around his head as I lowered my eager pussy to his mouth. He sucked and licked and lapped like a man possessed, and I watched his dick disappear and reappear from between Simon’s lips as once more I approached orgasm.

  A plane could have landed on top of the coach or the whole host of pensioners could have streamed back up the aisle and we wouldn’t have noticed. We were all absorbed in what we were doing, and until the orgasm blew through my pussy and up to my brain, I was incapable of real thought.