I found myself writing those words last week and, on re-reading them it struck me how matter-of-fact it all was. On previous occasions when Heather has enjoyed multiple orgasms, I have written about the event with a sense of awe and wonder. This time it was as if it was an everyday occurrence. It isn’t, but maybe it is getting that way.
The next day of our prolonged summerhouse weekend I had taken Heather’s shocking pink basque out of our little bag of tricks and handed it to her with the words “I want to see you in this”. She stripped off in the lounge, in front of the log fire, and put it on. This time she needed no help from me as it zips right up the front.
She looked perfect in it and I just couldn’t keep my hands off her. The lightly boned panels flattened her stomach, gave her a gorgeous hourglass waist and pushed up her breasts until they overflowed out of their barely adequate half-cups, giving her a cleavage you could gladly get lost in. The little fringe of black tulle, a parody of a skirt, made what it attempted to cover up all the more inviting. I pulled her close to me, buried my face in that cavernous cleavage and ran my hands all over a torso that was tight and firm under the slippery pink satin.
We wandered through into the bedroom. Heather sat on the bed and I stood before her. Wordlessly she leaned forward and rolled her tongue around the very tip of my cock a few times before encircling it with her lips and sliding slowly down the shaft. I began to have thoughts of letting her take me to the very limit before I pulled out and splashed my seed over her breasts, so that I could push my tongue down into her cleavage and lick it all up again, but I needed to get my cock inside her, and so did she.
Eventually she sat back, a little breathless. I gently steered her shoulders down onto the bed so that she was lying with her legs splayed and feet still on the floor. I knelt between them and buried my face in her crotch, drilling into her cunt with my tongue and dragging the sweet, viscous fluid up to her clit. By bringing my upturned palm up under my chin, I was able to ease a couple of fingers inside her and give her the famous ‘come hither’ stroke while I rolled my tongue round her clit.
Heather covered her face in her hands and shrieked as she orgasmed. I pulled the hands away, I didn’t want those shrieks to be muffled; I wanted to hear her sing.
Again, as on the day before, no sooner was she coming down off the first orgasm than a second began to build. Carefully, and with my fingers still inside her, we positioned ourselves on the bed so that I could drive my aching cock inside her instead. I was kneeling up now between her legs so that I could fuck her and still massage her clit with my thumb. With the best will in the world, Heather cannot seem to come from penetration alone and I so desperately wanted her to come again with me inside her.
She reached down and her fingers met mine on top of her clit. We helped each other in massaging her to a second orgasm just in time before I exploded my seed inside her on a wave of her contractions.
As I have detailed before, Heather doesn’t usually come easily, and very rarely more than once. Lately, though, it seems to be becoming a more regular event. I don’t know what’s happening; I don’t think I’m doing anything different. Maybe she is more relaxed and at peace with herself. Whatever the reason, I’m not complaining. For me, every one of the orgasms I help her to is a sheer joy, and I don’t believe you can have too much of that.
P.S. If you want to see how lovely Heather looks in her pink basque, then hurry over to the Boobiethon site, and while you're there you might want to give a donation to help fight breast cancer!
Another favourite place in UK
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