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Sandy Ch. 07

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Maybe too much talking in this chapter for some readers, but after Vivienne’s letting everything happen to her, Sandy has to tell me how she later responded. Then we have to talk more about whether she will want to again. We don’t talk much the evening we are together, however, too busy using our mouths to arouse each other.

And then I was on my way, again wondering what they would be doing: finishing the wine, of course, maybe a beer and talking. It seemed as though Vivienne had accepted what happened – what we had all done – at least as long as I was there, and probably talking with Sandy, but maybe alone in her bed – her quite moist bed to remind her – her Catholic upbringing wouldn’t just “go to hell” as she had said. But she had whispered to Sandy about wanting to watch us “the next time,” but that thought – her first one again? – might have been still under the influence of cuddling with Sandy, something else that might bother her, but she had put her arms around us, holding us both closer when we all kissed, and letting Sandy also feel how she had pressed her hips against me when we did. Oh, Sandy could offer to let her share her bed, … but it seemed unlikely that she would agree to that …

A lot of wondering as I walked home. Then I remembered my story about accompanying a girl from the NYAC back to her place – an apartment, or hotel? Hotel, a visitor to New York – no further implications, and more believable than escorting a girl home who lived in the city. And her presence in the club could account for a longer supper with me and my friends. Hmm, luckily my parents only knew them by name, since they had begun to wonder about my irregular training schedule.

Then I was home, apologizing for being late with my story, which was accepted as the gentlemanly thing to do. My sister had already gone to bed, luckily, since she might not have been so convinced.

Later, in bed – holding myself, not that he needed any more that evening – I was still wondering about them: if Sandy needed to reassure Vivienne; if she was having misgivings about what had happened, or really had wanted it to happen – she had taken off her bra. Oh, and Sandy had told her enough about me and Pam and Sukie to give her the idea that something could happen with all three of us – and it certainly had! Maybe the upbringing of her Catholic schooling really was only a veneer that she had managed to peel off as easily as they had agreed that they could forego bathrobes. I hoped so; it wouldn’t be easy for Sandy if she had to deal with any serious misgivings. Well, I would hear more from Sandy – was there some place we could have lunch and talk besides eating hot dogs? And if it all turned out all right, what would happen “the next time,” … or between them until then? …

The next morning, too curious to wait till lunch to hear what Sandy would tell, I started a little earlier than usual and went over to the avenue she walked to work, hoping to find her at least before she entered the building. She must have read my mind, wanting to tell me, too, and anticipating that I would choose her route. She didn’t know exactly where we lived, but I found her waiting for me a couple of blocks down the avenue, grinning when she saw me.

“Oh, that’s great; I hoped we would meet, and that was great, too!” and she grinned again.

“It sure was. What happened after I left?”

“Oh, it went fine, but I was a little worried …”

“Me too.”

“… that Viv would suddenly feel all different about it, and maybe she did, a little. Her first remark after you closed the door, and we looked at each other, both still nude, was: ‘Oh gosh! That really happened?! We really did that?!’ ‘Um-hmm, real good,’ I replied. She snorted and then smiled kind of funny and agreed: ‘It sure was, but, … well, I just don’t know; I wasn’t expecting anything like that,’ and she snorted again. ‘But you expected something?’ I replied: ‘… I mean, you sure didn’t act like you didn’t want anything to happen.’ ‘No, I guess not. Hmm! Let’s finish the wine and salad.’

“So we did. While we were in the kitchen, she admitted: “Yeah, I wanted something to happen, just a little, thinking about you two getting it Friday night, and wanting it myself on the weekend. Hm-hmm, it wouldn’t have been that good, but two nights. Hmm! He may be surprised if we get together again. Yeah, I was horny and feeling deprived, … and I guess after the weekend – our talking and being more open. But I really did make the salad so that you two wouldn’t have to go out.’ ‘A good idea, thank you, …’ I replied: ‘but it worked out much better the way it did, sharing it with you.’ ‘Hm-hmm, but that really didn’t occur to me. You two just make it seem so simple. I guess I still have some hang-ups about it, … but it is too late now.’

“We’d already finished the wine and got a couple of beers before we sat down. Of course, that was funny for her, still both naked, but it didn’t seem that she was going to let that bother her, just snickering slightly as she looked at me before we started eating. ‘Yeah, escort ataşehir I guess,’ she murmured to herself, and then smiled wryly as she glanced up at me and then back at her plate, continuing: “Yeah, I guess …, maybe I have been sort of fooling myself, … trying to believe that it has to do with love. Oh, sure, I really knew that it wasn’t, but, … well, … I guess I was always trying to think it should, … trying to make an excuse for just wanting to.’

“‘Maybe, …’ I agreed: ‘and not being able to just enjoy it.’ ‘Yeah, something like that. …. Hmm! Not like you, just being able to have fun playing with him, making it good for him. You were lucky that you learned to do that right from the start with that first boy.’ ‘I sure was, …’ I agreed: ‘but I never thought about it that way till now. Yeah, I was lucky.’ ‘And then you wanted me to hold him – hmm! – I’ve wanted to before, but never dared, … and then what happened; and I was wondering why you unbuttoned his whole shirt! Oh, and that too, … and I tasted it too! I really did! … And you really like it, want to do it to him?'”

Sandy grinned at me with a nod as she continued:

‘”Um-hmm, …’ I replied: ‘like “playing” with him, it’s just so good to know how good it is being for him – knowing better than … the other way.’ I didn’t want to use a word for it. ‘And they do it to us – well, he is the only one that has done it to me.’ Viv smiled with a chuckle and agreed: ‘He sure did, … to both of us. By then I wasn’t surprised at anything – at least at that moment – thinking that you were being left out.’ ‘Oh, I wasn’t, …’ I assured her: ‘well, maybe until then, a little.’ I didn’t want to tell her what I had been doing while you were …, you know.'”

Sandy had dropped her voice as we joined people waiting for the light, and we both snickered softly. As we walked on again, she continued:

“By then, it seemed that she was pleased with everything that had happened, and her next remark confirmed it. She glanced up at me a little shyly and murmured: ‘Oh, and then …, yeah, … you put my hands on your … breasts. Maybe I already wanted to – holding his …’ Both our nipples had popped out when she mentioned the word after hesitating to use it, or after admitting that she wanted to.

“Anyway, she went on: ‘Yeah, I wanted to, when you did – like with that girl in the shower. And, of course, I knew that you wanted me to, and knew why.’ She smirked at me and added: ‘We know why.’ ‘Um-hmm,’ I agreed with a snort and returned her smirk. Then she looked surprised and said: “Oh, and then you really helped me! Jeez! … Well, it was good, and what I needed just then.’ She snorted with a brief smile and added: ‘But I guess you knew that.’

“‘Um-hmm, of course,’ I agreed, reminding her that I had suggested she do it herself. ‘Did you? Yeah, I guess, but I’d never have done that with a man there,’ and she snorted again and added: ‘Maybe next time; … hope he won’t be upset.’ ‘He won’t, …’ I replied, thinking about you and emphasizing the ‘he.’ ‘Hmm!’ Viv snorted again, as though she had understood my implication, and then snorted a second time with a little smile.”

“Next time?” I asked.

“Maybe. We didn’t settle that. By then we had finished eating and drinking and cleaned up. Hm-hmm, and then had to wipe our chairs, some of yours on hers.”

We both snickered, and then slowed down as we approached our office building to let Sandy finish her story.

“Then we washed ourselves – and took our pills – and went to bed. I heard Viv’s surprised ‘Oooh’ when she felt the cold wet spots …”

“Three times.”

“Um-hmm, …” Sandy nodded with a grin: “we both slept naked, just smirking this morning. Oh, she is flying this evening, coming back Thursday.”

She looked at me knowingly with smile – maybe a cocksucking grin, it occurred to me as I suggested that we wait till the next day. She looked disappointed, but nodded when I explained that I really had to train, if only to have some sweaty laundry, that we would both just have to manage for ourselves. She snickered slightly and agreed – as though she were changing the subject as we were entering the building – suggesting that she would do some reading that evening, but her glance indicated that she was talking about the same subject.

Then we parted, agreeing to meet with the others in the cafeteria for lunch.

Pleased that Vivienne had admitted enjoying the previous evening, I didn’t have to dwell too much on what had happened or might happen. At lunch, someone mentioned seeing that we had arrived together. Without blushing, Sandy explained that we had just happened to meet. When someone else remarked that we had missed the Friday evening bar session, I explained that I had had to join my family, and Sandy said that she had had a date with a friend from her home town, adding that she expect that she would be visiting friends on the coming weekend. I assumed that she was hoping something else would work out, and her wink when we were clearing the table suggested kadıköy escort bayan the same.

That evening, I got home earlier than usual, demonstrably putting my things in the laundry. My sister thought it was a good opportunity to play scrabble again, inviting our parents to join, but they begged off, so there was just the two of us in the library. As I expected, she immediately asked why I had come home so late the night before, accepting my story with a doubtful sounding “really?” I thought about giving her a hint by mentioning that I had really accompanied two girls back to their “hotel,” but didn’t; she wouldn’t be happier by having her curiosity piqued, already knowing that some evenings I wasn’t training, making it easy for her to imagine only too correctly that I hadn’t the previous evening. We each won a game, and then she went to bed. I returned to my parents, and my father asked how my work was going, and then we went to bed.

Of course, I was thinking about Vivienne and Sandy, and wondering if she was thinking about me, doing the same thing – maybe Vivienne, too? There was a lot to think about, prolonging my enjoyment. What else was there in the book that Sandy would find interesting? I could only recall anal sex, wondering if she would want that. I didn’t need that, but if she wanted to …? Vivienne certainly wouldn’t, but I wanted to see her pussy. Would that bother her, making love while it was still light? Oh, and Sandy probably would want to see it too, not just see it; she had made that pretty clear. Vivienne would have to really stop thinking to let that happen!

If something happened Friday evening, how would it start? Not like with Sandy and me, just getting our clothes off immediately and starting. But I sure knew what she would want to do first, the next day, and on Friday – if it happened: Sandy had told her so nicely why she liked to do it. Would Vivienne be curious enough to want to try? She had said that she wanted to watch us – maybe thinking of that? Sandy and I wouldn’t have a problem about showing her. But how would it start? Would she and Sandy have become so agreed that something would happen that we could just join her in the apartment, maybe our starting with a shower, and she would join us, or just take off her clothes too? Maybe after a first cocktail, I could help her, like the second time with Sandy. I bet she looked sexy in her French-style underpants; she looked sexy without them, after I turned on the light in the bedroom. That was sweet, the way she had covered her breasts as I was getting dressed, and then we were all in the living room – but I hadn’t really looked at her, we had just become accustomed to seeing each other. I certainly would next time: her tan nipples on her neat little breasts and her neat little patch of pubic hair. Funny, whatever they had looked right on each of them – not just Sandy and Viv, my sister, Martha – had she done it with her brother? – my tutee, and Pam and Sukie, oh, and my Diotima, with hers shaved. That probably would look good on all of them – Pam had wanted to – but the variety was just as attractive.

But if Sandy wanted to do it to me – wanting to enjoy knowing how good it was for me – what would Vivienne do? Just watch? Oh, I could eat her, like with Pam and Sukie, while she watched Sandy. Maybe she would want to lean down and try it. Oh, that would be good, their taking turns – real good! – wondering who was going to get it. It should be Sandy, able to lick him on the best spot, and maybe Viv would be upset if I came in her mouth.

So in my fantasy, I came in Sandy’s. She would have liked it. It almost shot in my own mouth. I tasted what I could gather from my chin and chest and stomach. Hmm, Viv had tasted it and not complained. Maybe she would want to again before she dared to try doing it, maybe later in the evening when it wouldn’t be so much. I hoped so. I rolled over on my side and freed my loose sack from my thighs and fell asleep.

The next day at work, Sandy grinned when we saw each other, but later mentioned that she had hoped to meet me again on the way to work. I had remembered to bring my electric razor and used it at the end of the day. When we met outside the building and set off, she snickered and showed me what she had in the small Bloomingdale’s bag she was carrying. She had also been preparing for the evening; it contained her pantyhose, bra and panties, neatly arranged so that I could recognize them. She snickered again at my surprised look, and I did too as she closed the bag and whispered:

“I wanted to. I feel a little naked, … right here on the avenue. I had to cover my top in the building. Feels sexy, feeling my skirt moving on my bottom. I hope no one can see.”

“Hm-hmm, I bet, like once when I was just wearing Bermudas; nice, all hanging loose.”

“Yeah, I bet. Hm-hmm, what if you’d gotten aroused?”

“I didn’t, but it would have been a problem, … more of one than your top.”

“Hmmm!” and she grinned at me and then asked:

“Who were you with?”

I almost answered: escort bostancı “my sister,” already having started the M, but quickly changed to say: “Martha,” thankful that her name started with M.

“Um-hmm. I bet we would have had fun together.”

“Um-hmm, I am sure we would have. She said that she wanted to know what I like.”

“Hm-hmm! I do too,” and she grinned at me.

As we approached the bottle shop, I asked if I should get anything, but she said that she had the previous day, snickering, and snickering again when I asked when I would be able to take her to dinner, replying:

“Not anytime, … until next month, if you know what I mean.”

I snickered with a nod and then suggested that she walk on ahead and let me check if I could see that she didn’t have anything on under her light skirt. She snickered and agreed. I couldn’t tell, wanting to be able to, but her ass didn’t seem to look any different from those of the other women on the street, whom I all assumed had on their underwear. When I caught up with her, she feigned disappointment that I couldn’t tell, but I consoled her that I knew and had lovely image in my mind of her naked ass under her skirt. Then she noticed that I had shaved, and stroked my cheek with a grin and said that she was looking forward to feeling it somewhere else.

Both snickering, we walked on and I said:

“Vivienne was right, we make it seem simple.”

“Um-hmm, it is … with you, like with my first boyfriend, more curious about doing it than in love, … and better than the times I thought I was, … maybe a little like Viv.”

“Um-hmm,” I agreed, recalling my conversations with Martha and my tutee about “making love” and wondering if Sandy and I had so much experience or were of such like mind that we both could do with less emotional involvement, recognizing with a little pang that I still had more affectionate feelings for Martha. We walked on in silence, exchanging smiles.

Waiting for the elevator – out of sight of the doorman – I rubbed her ass, a very nice feeling, moving her skirt on her naked bottom. She smirked at me with a grin and nod, and then a snort as I started to gather up a little of her skirt, letting it fall as we got in the elevator, but then immediately gathering it all up until I had my hand on her bare ass and saw her nipples tighten.

Then we were in the apartment, and it was like before: stripping off our clothes, and then she ate me to our great mutual satisfaction, and then I ate her, relishing her orgasm. And then she wanted to fuck, and we did, sitting up, taking our time. I sucked her breasts, and we kissed, exchanging movements, chuckling when she held him and when he surged, and then I was rubbing her asshole, making her purr, until she reached down between us started rubbing her clitoris, and her asshole was asking for more of my finger, and she was clutching it and him and began to growl as her fingers moved nervously, and then she started to come, spurting as her pelvis jerked, and she came for the longest time, one long continuous orgasm with recurring peaks of intensity, making me come twice as she panted and gasped but wanted to continue, finally riding up and down for a final peak.

We collapsed with her lying heavy on top of me. It must have been a couple of minutes before we moved, she rolling off me and cuddling for a long time, almost dozing.

When we had recovered, we washed a little and had a beer, talking in the kitchen.

“Did anyone ever tell you you fuck good?” Sandy asked with a smirk.

“No one with enough experience to really know.”

“Hm-hmm! I thought I did, but maybe you a right.”

“You do too, real good, and not just fuck.”

“Thanks, but I learned that all with you, … so you must be good, … and doing it with those two girls. That must have been good.”

“Not better than with you and Vivienne, … well maybe, since they did it together.”

“I bet. I would like that, being eaten and screwed at once.”

“Or having two people eat you.”

“Did they, you do that?”

“No,” I replied as I recognized that I had been recalling Martha and my sister, and got around the question by explaining:

“But I later thought that would be good, too.”

“Hm-hmm, it sure would be, but I guess there isn’t a way to do that for you.”

“Probably not, and it wouldn’t be any better than what you can do by yourself.”

By then, we had finished our beers and taken a second one back to her bed. Before they were finished, we were eating each other, nice and leisurely, stopping to tell each other how good it was – doing it and what the other was doing with their mouth and fingers – and then doing it some more until we both came. We washed again, washing each other’s hands. As we returned to the living room, Sandy asked what I thought about “doing it that way.”

I told her that I didn’t think it would be any different for me, maybe an interesting experience, but more for the girl. She snickered and agreed, saying that she had read about it in the book, but couldn’t really imagine that it would be good, but then snorted and said that we both seemed to like to feel it there. I agreed, snorting and saying that I only liked it when he was in her mouth or pussy. “Or when your tongue is in my pussy,” she added with grin.

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