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Quote: "Part 7 of the sexy games at The Cottage as the guys seek out the women and hide their cocks in their pussy holes"
This is the 7th part of the story "The Cottage", you may want to read Part 1 first.
We all arrived late on the Friday night because of the holiday weekend traffic. Judy and I worked along with Jack and Bob through the cool evening to unload all the supplies and then down at the dock to get the boat into the water. Basic see through blouses tucked into jeans and set off with little "skimmer" flats were our work clothes. Anxious to get out of these 'girl' clothes when the work was done, Jude and I dashed for the shower shucking clothing as we ran. "Make drinks, I called to Jack as I ran, shower while we dress." The see through tops, both in dark blue, a swipe of lipstick and some basic heels were all we needed, and with a couple of mint juleps inside of us we each led our man (which we had gotten out of their boxer shorts) to the bedroom for a delightful fuck and desired sleep.
Today was to include a picnic lunch on a secluded island out in the lake, so that meant preparation time had to start early. We had decided for simplicity to wear the same gold and black wraps that we had worn in May. As I again applied the black lacquer to her to her nipples and aureole I asked "Are you going to try and get screwed on the kitchen table again Judy"
"No, not this morning, we just don't have enough time before the picnic and I want their horny level as high as it can go for our day in the sun." Then we sat on the side of the bed while the black polish dried, to discuss our picnic plans.
"Oh, Nance, I forgot! I have a present for you," she said as she dashed for the closet. She returned with a red shoe box which I excitedly opened. Next to a smooth bare cunt, I think the most erotic pleasure I have is wearing beautiful shoes. Inside were a pair of rounded toe pumps with thick heels -- Almost the same as Judy's black ones, but in a gorgeous shade of bronze and with even thicker heels than hers. I kicked off my satin dressing pumps and slid these treasures over my toes on onto my feet and stood up to savor their feeling. The heels were a good four inches high which made my instep curve sensuously. There was almost a feeling of emptiness at my arches while the heel cups firmly grasped my heels and curved along under the ankle bones. The rounded fronts fit perfectly around my toes, yet were cut low enough to reveal some cleavage between the big toe and the one next to it, while appearing to shorten my foot considerably. Staring at the toe lines in wonder and appreciation, I could see tiny reflections of my twat in their bronze patent shine.
I remembered seeing pictures of my mother wearing similar styles when she was a young woman. I think she called them Baby Dolls, but maybe those required an ankle strap -- anyway, that's what we dubbed this style.
I kissed Judy full on the mouth, trying desperately to avoid the drying black lacquer, and expressed my appreciation in glowing terms. As she continued to dry I walked around the room to get the feel of walking in such a thick heel, where the wide flat bottoms seemed to strike the floor firmly. In a moment or two I had the technique of walking graciously in them down pat and my memories flashed back fifteen years.
The thin and spiky heel of all the classic pumps naturally causes a certain delicateness in how you walk. but it was my mother who taught me the art of feminine walking. The day of my first period she told me to stay home from school and we would celebrate my becoming a woman. I was already shaving, of course, but wearing my first pad and feeling a little shy about it, she explained the joy of being a woman and went well beyond her earlier sex education with details of the joyous feeling I would have inside my body as my desire for sex grew, of the pre-sex anticipation, and the joyous soaring that could come from coupling with a man you loved. My role to prepare for this shared experience was to be feminine in every way I could. She told me that this did not mean being a submissive "little girl", nor not having a rewarding career of my choice. What it did mean, was to never let working and striving in what was often a man's world take away the one thing that separated me from their ways -- that of being as feminine as possible, while at the same time being as smart and skillful in my field as I could. The way, she said, was to be the best of both, but never, never, let them take my femininity away. Femininity starts at the ground up, she said, and so today we will buy your first pair of high heels.
We looked in store after store as each new design I saw seemed better than the last. I'm sure my mother was totally frustrated when I at last chose a simple and classic black patent pump with gently pointed toes and a two and a half inch heel. I walked in them all day, and when I went to bed my feet were sore, but I didn't want to part with the shoes so I slept for a while with them on. The next day was a Saturday so I had another day off. At breakfast, my mother asked if I were not going to wear my heels today. "Mom, I got jeans on," I replied, and besides I don't want to wear them out.
"That's OK, jeans look great with heels Nancy. I didn't mean these to be for best wear. Your new pumps are really an everyday shoe and we'll buy you others next week to complete your collection. Remember, your a woman now. It's something else isn't it"
I admitted that my feet hurt, and she told me she knew that because she had watched me walking yesterday and knew it would happen, but felt I would learn best from the experience -- always her way. She told me I was still walking like a girl -- hitting the floor with the heel first, then the toe. A graceful woman, she told me, walks by touching the floor with the toe and heel at almost the same time, and certainly when dancing with the toe first. I had ran to get my new heels and practiced all day with a "dancing" walk. At bedtime there was no pain, even though I had worn them for over twelve hours. I have never again had painful feet from high heels, provided I bought high quality shoes.
The thicker heel just required a more deliberate toe/heel step, and it sure made your ass feel tight as you stepped along. "Your eyes kinda glazed over, Judy remarked as she brushed my cheek, are you alright"
"Oh yes, Judy, and thank you again, you just brought back some beautiful memories that I'll share with you the next time we're in bed together. Now, you're all dry so lets get you dressed and go to breakfast." I helped zip her into her short shift and she pulled on the sheer black stockings and slipped her feet into her black Baby Dolls. We squeezed each other's tits firmly and strode out to the eating area, our heels clacking underneath us.
There were some sexy comments again about our wraps and Jack said nice things about my new pumps, but we had to keep things on a low key, sex wise, for time on the island could easily disappear. Judy and I cleaned up dishes and had only about twenty minutes of preparation time left before the picnic boat trip. Bob was packing the lunch and Jack getting the motor ready.
Wearing heels in a motor boat was going to be a bit dangerous, so we had made a compromise and bought black patent Mary Janes with a pretty "block" heel about two inches high and designed the rest around that. We were basically ready too, and in the bedroom we stripped and licked each others pudenda to apply little butterfly tattoos. Then we pulled up white lace seamed thigh highs and pushed our feet into the Mary Janes, having a little parade in front of the mirror as they kicked up, just to get the feel of the "girlish look" we hoped to briefly create, before becoming the "back to nature" women we intended to be for the afternoon. The rest was simple; flowery print dresses (mine in orange and yellow daisies, Jude's in purple pansies) with lace at the collar and cuffs, and held closed with only one button at the navel.
We deliberately held back at the cottage until Jack impatiently sounded the air horn, then I was out the door with my Mary Janes slapping against the sand and the wind blowing my dress back over one tit. I could hear Judy thumping along behind me, then I was clattering over the dock flashing cunt at four appreciative eyes as I jumped into the boat. The same eyes, joined by mine swiveled to catch the same view of Judy, her butterfly fluttering down into the boat. We perched ourselves (or should I say our twats) on the front board seat as Bob steered the boat out to the island.
While kind of immature for us, the Mary Janes were excellent for clambering over the rocks and roots on the trail to the secluded and sunny clearing in the middle of the island. Certainly they were more rugged than "skimmers" and much more attractive then deck shoes while allowing a bit of heel height. At the clearing we spread two blankets and as Judy already had one tit falling out of her dress we just unbuttoned them and lay back to let the warm sun do its work on our bodies. I tried to imagine the view Jack and Bob would be getting as the delicious warm sun just oozed into my boobs. First, gleaming black patent shoes followed by long legged white lace ending in pink flesh with a tiny, tight, and totally bare venus fluttering under a butterfly as a prize. Then the eye would slide upward past indented navels (flickering I hoped back to the venus) then onward to the two mounds rocking gently on my chest as I breathed, the jutting aureole and sun hardened nipples offering their own reward.
Next I felt gentle breathing in my ear and opened my eyes to see Jack laying beside me, Bob beside Judy, both starkers and fully erect in the bright sun. Turning around and placing my legs over his I inched my butt forward bringing my cunt closer and closer to his cock, then leaned down and with bare teeth shoved his foreskin back behind the throbbing glans. Then, with both Judy and Bob watching my actions, I stood, my flowered dress streaming behind me, and ran the toe of one Mary Jane around and around his knob until it was covered with pre-cum juice. I yanked the shoe off and licked it to a gleaming shine before putting it back on. With that, I just slid down on my knees and lowered myself over his gorgeous twitching rod. Bob was on Judy in a flash and side by side (one tits up and one tits down) we fucked until need of food forced us to stop.
After a lunch of sandwiches with lots of white wine Judy and I took bags of paper bits and set out for a game of Seek and Hide. The idea was for us to leave trails of paper until we had each found a private spot. The guys would Seek us out and then Hide their cocks in our dark holes. I buttoned my dress up tight as I didn't want any scratches on my boobies or between my legs as I crawled between shrubs and through tall grass. My Mary Janes thudding gently over the sandy trail as I raced ahead to gain a lead. I found a leafy hidy hole in a thicket near the beach on the other side of the island and shucked my dress to use as a blanket between my ass and the damp leaves. Laying back I stroked my nipples into erection and my cunt into readiness as I anticipated which man would find me and my hole.
Perhaps twenty minutes later it was Bob who discovered my hiding place. He stripped from his clothes, then lay back breathless from the chase and I gently stroked his bare cock. His mother's doctor had done a beautiful job of the circumcision. The hard scar about a quarter of an inch behind the head was smooth and perfectly shaped all the way around the shaft. It appeared that other surface skin had also been removed along the shaft to give him a total circumcision rather than the partial often given these days, for the shaft was perfectly smooth and shiny with hard dark veins along its length. I traced the scar with my tongue until drips of pre-cum juice began to ooze out. I had taken off my lace stockings while waiting, and now, with dusty Mary Janes on bare feet I mixed his juice with mine to polish them shiny again, buffing the patent bright with a white stocking. I lay back then and Bob licked at my butterfly with his tongue, letting it wander to find my juice. Soon he entered me and I again felt the delight of his eight inches working its way towards my uterus. I thrust hard against him, then we both relaxed and simply worked our sexual organs together for about twenty minutes while we whispered about each others bodies and how we could please each other. Then he leaned down and kissed each titlet and I exploded thrashing violently against his groin until he too cried out in pleasure. We went to the beach and had a cleansing skinny dip, and with my stockings and Mary Janes back on, dress singly buttoned again, we walked in the sunlight around the island back to the boat.
We may have played little girl for the afternoon, but evening was to be for very grown up women. As we stripped off our Mary Janes Judy wondered aloud if we would ever wear them again because of the low heels. I suggested that we just stow them up on the closet shelf, that, I understood what she meant as my feet ached for a pair of higher heels, but still for the outdoors the MJ's were a pretty good choice. Who knew if they would be needed again.
A scrubbing shower came next to remove the last of the little butterflies and every bit of sand, then Judy and I stretched out on a clean sheet to explore and tantalize each others bodies while the moisture dried away. Gently massaging in creamy body lotion we discussed cut and un-cut pricks and how they felt on the inside of each other. She claimed Bob's was best because of its rippling veined smoothness and how she felt the lack of foreskin had permitted his head to grow larger than if he'd been uncut. I claimed that Jack's glans was more sensitive because it was protected from the daily banging around in his pants and that the tight end of the skin popped over the head and locked firmly under the head when I jerked it back, and that I enjoyed washing under it when he and I showered. The conclusion of the discussion, during the application of scarlet nail polish, was that we would have to do further experiments.
I don't think I have told you much else about our selves. I'll take a moment to do that. I am five foot six (without shoes) and I think I have pretty nice 34C tits. My waist is 26" and tapers out to 32 inch hips. My hair is a dark brown and about shoulder length. I often do it in a page boy. Judy is an inch shorter, but otherwise we are about the same as two peas from different pods can be. We both love sewing and even design some clothes, and we both really love high heeled shoes. For some reason, we both have dark aureole and nipples even though neither of us has ever been pregnant (and what's further puzzling is that two close friends have the same unusual trait) -- and as I've mentioned before, my aureole are firm and pouty. One small oddity though, about a year and a half ago I schmucked the little finger on my left hand when I was cleaning a food processor that was still plugged in.
The doctor took the mangled part off very neatly at the second knuckle. I often wear a very wide lacy antique gold band around the little stump, which is very useful (without the ring) to stick under Jack's foreskin and wiggle against the glans. I've often thought of having the other one done to match, but I haven't found a doctor willing to snip off a perfectly good, although rarely used, pinky.
But, we were talking about Judy. Her hair is a little darker and cut in a pixy style since May. She sometimes will dye it a different color. We met at our first jobs (the office I still work at) and she married Bob about two years later than I with Jack, which is almost eight years ago. With mutual discussion and agreement with our husbands we each had our tubes tied in the first year of marriage because both families had decided not to have children. Not to set up an unfair situation, both men had undergone vasectomies the same day as their mates tubal ligations.
We knew we were all "de-fused", yet did not want a life with another man/woman than our spouses. We all enjoyed as much sex as we could get with our wedded partner, but none of us were so ignorant to not realize that, during a lifetime, a desire to share the joy of fucking with another human would not occur. Judy and I had continued our friendship and Jack and Bob had also become good friends. We all visited occasionally from time to time until that fateful day when both men and my girlfriend had seen me sunning my cunt while wearing a black see through top. That act changed our lives (we all thought for the better) and now planned four trips a year to this cottage for the main purpose creating the most interesting and glorious sex we could.
Sorry for the diversion, we were about to dress. It was our plan to dress identically tonight, and so together, we applied mahogany lip stick, a hint of soft pearly pink blush to the upper skin of our breasts -- leaving the undersides stark white to be enhanced by candle light -- with the slightest brushing of the same pink to our pudendum. My long hair we did up in a French roll. The only adornments were long dangling silver and jeweled earrings.
First, garter belts and sheer black stockings with seams up the back, slipping our feet into identical black satin shoes with four inch heels. Our gowns, which we had specifically created, were in thin black velveteen with see through sleeves that rested on our shoulders in a large pouf. The cuffs and hem had shiny black ruffles. A tight bodice came up to our tits where it stopped and was scalloped individually to half surround each mound and to nestle perfectly against the line where each tit met our body. The whole look was completed with a ruffled band around the throat, and oh yes, each skirt was slashed straight up the front to the waist line. Hand in hand we clicked gracefully down the hall to meet our 'dates' for the evening.
They had joined into the festivities (as we had provided some basic clues) with the top half of their tuxedoes, red bow ties over white tux shirts, shiny black patent tux shoes with black socks and calf garters, their peckers swinging freely until we entered the room. Wine was served with pate de fois gras while we danced and then a delicious meal of Scallops St. Jaques. There were mesmerized stares as the candlelight flickered across our breasts, the curving undersides a glowing promise as the flames danced.
After dinner, dishes were deferred and we strolled into the moonlit front yard where the hard soil would not swallow our heels. The moonlight on the warm blushed upper part of Judy's tits was so appealing I was going to take her in and suck on them myself, when she strode out in front of us, and gathered her skirt back around her waist to let the same soft moon light shine on her cunt which was framed by the black strips of her garter belt. Bob softly led her back into the cottage and I followed Jack to our room. The screwing was as soft and gentle as the moonlight and I still think an un-cut cock is the best.
I carefully redressed as Judy and I were not done with this evening yet. When she reappeared we made a pitcher of Manhattans (with these gowns, what else) and we all danced toward midnight. It was then that Judy put on a CD of "The Rain in Spain" and together we stood and thrusting a black stockinged leg into each others crotch, one pointy heel each thrust out behind for a moment, our upper bodies pressed tightly together a breast each nestled between our partners breasts, we danced a cross of the Lambada and the Tango. We made our own sexual juices flow thickly and could feel our heat bursting from cunt to cunt, tits to tits as we swirled and strutted around that room. At one point I tilted Judy away back (as we had rehearsed) so that her breasts shifted towards her neck ruffle and so that the stark white underside thrust upward. Then swung her in front of me, still tilted back, and gently leaned over as we pivoted in a full circle and kissed each raised bump. As the music ended it was very obvious that we had raised the sexual excitement level of everyone in that room. Jack swept me off of my feet, satin covered heels flashing in the air, and we returned to our bed where we tried to cover the noises from the room next door with our own feverish cries.
I asked Jack to keep everyone entertained in the main room for a few minutes while I "freshened up". I quickly showered and put on fresh mahogany lipstick, slipping a sleeved russet colored and very sheer closed gown over my head. It fell to my ankles. I took shoes I had saved for some weeks out of their box and slid my feet into them and tested their feel and balance as I placed a gold necklace around my throat. The shoes were round toed burgundy suede set up on a two inch platform under the toe area and therefore permitted a six and a half inch heel to thrust me up and tighten both my body and my will. Most people don't realize that a well designed platform shoe is actually a little thicker under the ball of the foot than it is at the toe and so the wearer is actually balanced more on the toes. To keep that balance you must thrust your pelvis forward, your cunt moving out with it. God, I was scared as I tried to glide down that hall. I would be the tallest person in that room with these shoes on and I knew my firm body should look like a pillar of strength as the firelight danced through the sheer material creating mysterious shadows on the flesh beneath. I wanted the appearance of a warm brown column from floor to my gold circled neck, that seemed to surround and protect yet with each curve faintly visible inside that shield.
Judy was now sitting on the couch next to Bob wearing a royal blue peignoir (as we had agreed) tied under the breasts to pull the cloth tightly over her Maltese cross nipple rings. "Please, everyone, listen to me," I said clearing my throat. We have had a wonderful day but I must say some things tonight that could alter all of our future trips to this cottage that we have all come to love." I shifted my weight, stepping solidly with each platform and tried to keep up a flowing movement, my ass feeling tight from the up thrust of those very high heels and knowing with each movement that the firelight was shifting the shadows around my body. "We have learned to love our mates more and Judy and I have learned how to love each other's mate. The exquisite sexiness of everyone's actions has brought a loving fullness to our relationships in the almost year since you all first saw my breasts shadowing through that black top as you can see them now -- since three of you first saw my shaved venus covered by nothing and soaking up the morning sun, just as we can all now look upon Judy's thrilling venus because I taught her to shave that morning." I pressed my toes forward tilting the platforms slightly, gathering strength from the curve of the hard soles under my arches back to my highly raised heels and thrust that strength up my legs to meet at my loins. "What I stand here tonight to say is that through the loving atmosphere we have all created at "The Cottage" Judy and I have come to love each other too!"
At this point Judy stood up, tottering nervously on her thin metallic heels and came to hold my hand, her nipple rings glistening in the firelight. "We have all reached a point where some decisions must be made before our anniversary visit to this cottage next September. Bob, and you Jack, do not have a sexual relationship, and while it seems unfair, Judy and I really do like that -- we see you as strong independent males. Somehow in today's skewed world Judy and I feel all right about women loving women and love best men who do not love each other. Both of you may see this in reverse and now despise us for our shared sexuality. As we both want long and joyful lives with you our life-mates, as I see it we have three choices: first we can all promise to never come back here as couples again; two, we can restrict our coupling here to our spouses only; or every person in this room can accept fully that each deeply loves and sexually desires at least two others, two of us three." God, my throat was going dry, my knees would have been wobbling if it were not for these stunning shoes to force my legs stiff, and my twat crack was nervously pulled up into an almost invisible line. Then the fire flickered and I could see that my nipples were as hard as they had ever been in my life.
"Judy, please sit down now, it is time for decisions," I continued. When she was seated, legs crossed, I went on. "Here are the rules of voting: Each person has the power of veto, that is, if any one person does not agree with a choice then that choice is out. As the choice I want most is the last one we'll start there." I was about to have gut wrenching convulsions if I didn't get this over with, and stepped firmly forward, raised by my platforms two inches from the floor and surrounded by my mysterious russet column of shadow. "If you agree that love and sex here at "The Cottage" can exist between agreeable partners at any time and that such agreement can be shown by two people walking away hand in hand, then please show that agreement!" Without a moments hesitation all three soundly applauded.
By way of appreciation I reached to a low table beside the fireplace and picked up the scissors I had put there earlier. In one swift move I slashed an open blade into my gown just above my cunt and sliced away the fabric down one leg, then again, while the men sat stunned at my actions, down the other leg. I stood that way for some moments, my cunt totally exposed and pushed forward as I was firmly balanced, hips thrust outward because of my burgundy platforms. Then, still in silence Bob took Judy by the hand and led her to my side. He took the scissors from my hand and knelt before Judy, slowly cutting up the front of her peignoir. She was holding my hand then, and I could feel her tremble in anticipation as he cut around the top of her smooth cunt and back to the hem. He paused long enough for us to all appreciate the view, then brushed his lips over her slit.
Judy immediately turned to me on her very pointy heels and crushed her cunt into mine. We hugged longingly and mashed our lips together, kissing hotly in the way few women ever get to do, sucking lips and tongues, deeply passionate. All the tightness in my cunt dissolved and I felt myself getting delightfully wet.
When we broke apart Jack stepped forward and led me down the hall by the hand, my six and a half inch heels making my ass sway as I walked. The tension was now drained out of me and listening to the bump-clack rhythm of my shoes and the tap tap of Judy's heels behind me caused my twat to ease even more and I knew I was now wide open and ready.
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