Two insatiable, over-sexed women who demanded satisfaction were almost too much for Tommy, despite his own powerful libido. Could he say no to either of them? It was something of a relief when they often decided to take pleasure from each other instead of him, but something was worrying him. As their sexual activities became kinkier and kinkier, Tommy found that there was yet more extreme sex described in Mary’s journal she had written while he was away in the army. What had really been happening? His concern was mounting, and his trust was beginning to waver…
EXTRACT
Charlie, by now being turned on by what she was doing, was as randy as Mary. Feeling wild
and eager to get at Mary’s Gina, she unhooked her from the coat hook and literally dragged
her by the belt that tied her hands over to the bed. Jumping on it, she pulled Mary
across it and turned her onto her back, scrambling over her eagerly to put her face
between Mary’s opening thighs.
Mary opened her legs wide as she felt Charlie’s touch. She held Charlie’s head, grasping
her hair and heaving her Gina into Charlie’s face as she felt her lips and tongue rooting
into her fiery hot clitoris. Mary’s loud groans filled the room as she heaved and bucked
onto Charlie’s lips and licking tongue, sometimes making Charlie lose contact and then
frantically searching with her Gina to find Charlie’s lashing tongue again.
It was only minutes of wild, raving groans and heavings before Mary collapsed back onto
the bed, her body now stretched out, her thighs tight together as she held Charlie’s mouth
away from her Gina with a groan.
“Ooooh, God, that was something else, wasn’t it?” Mary gasped.
“It was for you. I haven’t cum yet.”
Mary sat up and lifted her hands to take off the blindfold, but Charlie stopped her.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Charlie told her and got hold of the belt and pulled Mary back to lie
on the bed. Charlie scrambled across the bed and over the other side, pulling Mary’s
hands back over her head and tying one end of the belt to the wire supports of the springs
of the bed.
“I’m not finished with you yet,” Charlie told her.
“And I’m not finished either, if you’re not,” Mary said. “I need it another three times
at least.”
“You’ll get what I give you,” Charlie said. “How’s your bum?”
“Like my Gina: hot and smarting, but even so it’s doing things for me. I feel quite… I
don’t know: invigorated?”
“Well, whatever, turn over off it and I’ll rub it with some calamine lotion.”
Mary rolled over and as she did, she heard something over by the window.
“What was that?” Mary asked.
“What was what?” Charlie asked as she went around the bed and picked up the towel she had
thrown over to by the window.
“I heard something by the window,” Mary insisted.
Charlie kissed Mary on the bum. “I’ll go and get the calamine from the bathroom.”
Mary waited, her ears straining to listen for the least noise that was out of place, but
she could hear nothing. Charlie came back into the room and made Mary jump as she dabbed
cold calamine lotion on to her bum with a ball of cotton wool.
“We are alone, aren’t we?” Mary asked Charlie. “I can’t help it, but I keep getting the
feeling someone else is here.”
“You’re imagining things,” Charlie told Mary, but secretly she was grinning. She had she
set out to make Mary think that someone else there, and it was working very well.
“All right, roll back over and bend your knees up,” Charlie told Mary as she spread the
towel out so Mary’s bum would land on it. Charlie, now enjoying the flow of her
deception, used two more dressing gown belts to tie each around Mary’s knees and knotted
them to the foot and head board of the bed so that Mary’s knees were well spread and her
Gina on display.
Charlie sat by Mary’s head, leaning over her with an arm under her head as she kissed
her, and with three fingers inside her Gina as she slowly eased them in and out, rubbing
Mary’s hot spot as she did so.
“Mary, what would you say if I told you there was someone else in the room and he’s
sitting on the chair and looking right up your Coo-ee. In fact, he has watched everything
we have done so far?”
“By my Coo-ee, you mean my Gina,” Mary calmly asked, not believing her.
“And your Pinky, as well as your tits,” Charlie said. “But you’ve been right. There is
some one here, and I invited him to watch at least.”
“Charlie, you are beginning to worry me now. There is no one here, is there?”
“Would I lie to you?”
“Charlie, tell me you’re kidding,” Mary said, panicking a little now. “If there is some
bloke here, tell him to say something.”
“He can’t do that. You might know the sound of his voice. He’s under strict
instructions not to say anything and not to touch you unless I say different. You always
wanted to do it with a risk of getting caught, and doing it on the beach while some one is
spying on you. Well, just think of it like that. Does it turn you on?” Charlie asked.
Thomas Weaver was born in 1934 and raised in the north of England. He started work at the age of fifteen in a timber mill, and although he spent much of his working life doing the same type of work, three years was spent in the army.
Thomas’s writing started as a hobby, based on his experiences and those of people he has known at various times during his life. His experience is broad, and his life has been varied and colourful, and still is. Having lost a lung, he may not have the energy he had once, and spends considerable periods housebound. That, however, has given him the opportunity to write of what he knows, putting his extensive knowledge, as well as some of his remarkable imagination, into the erotic actions of his characters.