The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Susan had been well fucked. She lay there as the boys dressed and filed out. Their knobs beautifully polished and their seminal vesicles so pleasingly emptied. She felt quite weary. Yet it was nowhere near bedtime yet.

“Well Susan, do you feel you’ve done enough work today or could you do a bit more polishing?”

Susan blinked, forcing herself to keep her eyes open. Had she really been thinking of taking a little sleep? She struggled to her feet knowing she was looking a bit of a mess but, yes, she could polish and buff a little more. She picked up the tin of ‘Ed McCaffrey’s Knob Polish’ and her cloth and waited for the two gentlemen to expose their penises for polishing. The men who had watched fully dressed whilst she had polished the boys and then let them work her, now removed their clothes; their penises were certainly ready for a good knob polishing. They were thrusting forward nicely; just as a good little knob polisher would want. Susan opened the tin

She was getting good at the task. A nice dab of polish all around each of the penile heads; a pause to let the polish dry (she thought blowing upon them probably helped); then a brisk polish with the cloth; a little dribble of saliva (spit and polish!) and then a rapid buffing.

So good to see the shine. Susan thought her mother would be impressed with her work.

“Oh dear, Susan, I think you have polished Mr Lovell’s cock a little too much!” She was brought back from thoughts of her mother to Mr Canning’s voice.

She frowned. “No, it’s got a lovely shine. I don’t think I can over pol… oh, oh!”

From the end of Mr Lovell’s highly polished knob came regular pulses of creamy semen. It caught her right in the face adding to some of Michael’s ejaculate that she had forgotten to brush or lick away

Susan turned to Mr Canning, her mouth opening and closing, Mr Lovell’s cum all over her face. Mr Canning was shaking his head in disapproval. She looked back up at Mr Lovell, as his penis dripped a last drop of semen onto her nose.

Oh dear! Of course, one could over-polish a knob. She had forgotten, “I’m sorry Mr Lovell, what can I do to make amends?”

Mr Lovell smiled and patted her on the head. “Don’t you fret, Susan, my fault I’m sure, but if you come around to my flat tomorrow, I think I can find something for you to do in recompense.”

Mr Canning nodded. “That would be a good thing to do, Susan, straight after school.”

“I’d better go home now, Mr Canning.”

“It must be nearly your teatime. Could you do one more thing before you go.”

“Of course, Mr Canning. Anything.”

It was indeed ‘anything.’ Mr Canning asked her to go and place herself over the back of an armchair.

“We had been hoping to give you another two fucks, my dear, but you rather spoilt that.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr Canning.” Was she going to be spanked? She felt completely defenceless in her position, her bottom so exposed.

“I’m not sure you really deserve this.”

It was not his hand but his penis not slapping but touching her bottom. She wondered if it would be her tight, hot bottom hole. That would be awful. She had not allowed Jose to do that or any other man—and was sure she would not. It would be painful she was sure, but did she not deserve to be punished? Yet, all at once she could feel it nosing into her, not into her bottom but her vagina, pushing easily into her already well lubricated and ready sex, and going deeper.

“I don’t Mr Canning, I don’t deserve this. You are very kind.” The nice man was balls deep inside her. She could feel his balls slapping against her clit. It was a good feeling. Had she not been a bad girl then Mr Lovell could have done the same. Would he have liked that? Surely, he would prefer her bottom. Surely Mr Canning would prefer her bottom? Were they just being kind to her? What nice old gentlemen. It was good to help them.

“And how did you get on today, Susan, at Mr Canning’s?”

“I did a lot of polishing, Mum.” Susan nodded sweetly thinking of how well she had done on the brass and silverware and… She frowned.

“What is it, dear?”

“Oh, nothing Mum, just thinking of what I was polishing.”

“Mr Canning has some very nice silver.”

“Yes…” but she had a sort of recollection of polishing some other items. A vague recollection of… no, what a ridiculous idea. But it was one to keep for bed later.

Lights out, Susan spread her legs within the sheets and dropped her hand down between her thighs. Normally she had a little play when she was dropping off to sleep, though tonight her ‘bits and pieces’ felt rather overly sensitive as if well used. And well they might if the strange thoughts coming into her head were in any way true. But of course they were just thoughts and had not happened. Of course not. Joe McCaffrey’s knob polish indeed! And she very much doubted Michael’s penis was that big or his knob so flat and like a mushroom. A pity she would never find out. He was a nice boy, not perhaps as ‘dishy’ as Joe Maddison or as sweet as her Jose. She doubted he had a very big penis. Susan scooted under her bed and brought out her bottle of special lotion. Whilst she was rummaging, head first, she imagined Michael coming up behind her and catching her unawares; her defenceless and exposed sex suddenly filled. It was a very nice thought. A delicious thought—especially if his cock was that big.

It was not so much the lubricant, the lotion she wanted as the bottle. Its shape a proxy for a boy—or his ‘cock’ anyway! The bottle of ‘Ed McCaffrey’s penile lubricant.’ Susan did not need the light on to see the stylised logo clearly representing a massive ejaculation and the advertising slogan, ‘Ed McCaffrey’s penile lubricant—looks, tastes and smells just like the real thing. You won’t find better. 99% of housewives can’t tell it from semen.’ She did not really need the lubricant—she was wet enough—but still squeezed a dollop or three between her breasts before pushing the neck of the bottle slowly into her vagina. Mmmm—cock!

Vague thoughts of sexual activity with Michael, Joe Maddison and Jose in her mind as she played. Absurd but very nice thoughts. Thoughts that took her easily to orgasm but were even vaguer in the morning.

Certainly any amusing thought that she might have been fucked by Jose, Joe and Michael—all three—were easily dispelled behind the bike sheds the next day when Jose, having pushed his tongue as far down her throat as she had sometimes taken his penis, complained of not having had sex with her for ‘over a week.’ There was no mention of Joe Maddison or Michael, no mention of Mr Canning’s house. Clearly, she had the most vivid imagination.

“Not tonight, Jose, I’ve got to go and see Mr Lovell.”

“Who? What about?”

But Susan could not remember what about, just that she had to go. Jose looked very disappointed even when she gave his penis a nice squeeze through his school trousers before hurrying off to the next lesson.

Susan pressed the intercom and spoke to Mr Lovell. A buzzing sound, then she pushed open the door and ascended the stairs to his second floor flat. Mr Lovell was beaming as she came through the door and into his flat. It was a lovely flat, constructed in the roofspace of an old converted house with sloping ceilings and original windows. It had, as the estate agent might write, plentiful original features, even a fireplace. The afternoon sunlight poured in and illuminated Mr Canning also there and sitting in an armchair enjoying the sun.

She sat, smoothing down her pleated skirt. She was not quite sure why she was there. She smiled up at the two men and talked a little about her day. It was quite hot in the flat and she was relieved when Mr Lovell asked if she would like a cup of tea or perhaps some ice-cream.

“I think I might have an ice-lolly in the freezer if you prefer.”

She did. The thought of sucking on a raspberry or perhaps orange ice-lolly was very pleasing. Mr Lovell went to fetch it and make tea for Mr Canning.

The lolly was actually lemon flavoured. A nice citrus tang. It was a make of ice-lollies she had not seen before—‘Ed McCaffrey—made to make your mouth water’ it said on the gaily coloured wrapper. She drew the lolly from the wrapper by its wooden stick. Some ice-lollies are in the shape of rockets or spaceships, some an elongated cone, some simply round but more normally an elongated oblong with rounded edges. This one was different. Very, very different—it was penis shaped. Very penis shaped! Surely Mr Lovell and Mr Canning must realise that—but there was no sign they saw anything out of the ordinary about it. It took a bit of courage to take a lick and then a suck. She was so conscious what she was doing was potentially embarrassing. What would her friends have said? They would have been in hoots of laughter. And what about Jose, or other boys she knew like Michael or Joe Maddison? She could not have even started upon the lolly had they been watching.

She sat there demurely sucking upon the lolly but worried just what it might look like. She was no stranger to cock sucking, she had done it quite a few times with Jose, her boyfriend. Liked to think she was quite good at that. She tried not to make it look like she was sucking an ‘ice prick’ but it was difficult given the lolly’s peculiar shape. Mr Lovell and Mr Canning made no comment except to ask if it was ‘nice.’

The lolly gradually got smaller until it was nothing more than… well, like a boy’s penis when he was not excited… or had been excited and she had sucked the excitement all away. The lolly dripped and she deftly caught the drip. Yes, very like a penis that had ‘come’ recently.

“Mr Lovell, I’m terribly sorry, but I just can’t remember why I’m here.”

Mr Lovell looked at Mr Canning and Mr Canning looked at Mr Lovell.

“Oh,” he said, “I thought your mother would have told you.” He definitely looked embarrassed; it was certainly how it seemed to Susan. Whatever was it her mother should have told her? All Susan could remember was her mother saying, ‘Make sure you do everything Mr Canning tells you, dear.’ It was what she always said.

Susan shook her head.

“Oh, ah, well…”

“It’s about the ‘birds and the bees,’ said Mr Canning seeming to be helping Mr Lovell out who had rather dried up without saying anything. “Your mother said your dad was too embarrassed and…”

“It’s OK, Mr Lovell, I learnt all that in school.” She was eighteen, after all. What was her mother thinking?

Mr Lovell looked relieved. “We’d still better test you; your mother was quite insistent. We don’t want to let her down.” He looked at Mr Canning who nodded his head. “Susan,” he said, reaching for a pad of paper and a pencil, “would you draw male and female genitalia and indicate the names of the various parts.”

It was like being in a biology exam. “A cross section?” she asked but the answer obvious, it was not an art class where she was meant to be doing life drawing. Susan drew. Her eyes flicked upwards to Mr Lovell as she finished the outline of a flaccid penis and hanging balls. Had she perhaps made the scrotum too hanging and the penis too large? Her drawing of the woman’s bits had pubic hair. She frowned, had that been in the biology book? With neat little arrows she wrote in capitals words like ‘vagina, scrotum, testes, glans, urethra, rectum, clitoris, labia major, labia minor…”

“Good, good, Susan. Well remembered, labia minor indeed. You do know your terms!”

Susan sat back and put the pencil down.

“Yes,” said Mr Lovell, not bad. You have not labelled the prepuce or the fraenum. Do you know where they are?”

Susan did, she picked up the rubber and then added more detail to her penis—and the labelling.

“I see you drew the penis unerect. Susan, are you embarrassed by erections?”

“No, Mr Canning,” and she drew another picture. An erect penis. She made the penis a bit big, a little too long!

“Rather large, Susan, or perhaps wishful thinking.”

Susan looked down, what could she say to that! She feigned ignorance, “I… I don’t know how large they are, of course.” It was not true, she had handled Jose’s and made it do things.

Mr Lovell and Mr Canning nodded. What else was she meant to say? The elderly gentlemen seemed to expect something more. “They get bigger of course when…” she looked down, “… when they become excited.”

“And how do they get bigger?”

“If you touch and stroke…”

Mr Lovell frowned. She had revealed she knew more about penises than she had let on. Had he expected her to talk about blood and capillaries, the physiology of erection?

“Have you been touching your boyfriend, Susan?”

She had to say, “Yes.”

“I meant, though, what are the mechanics.” Mr Lovell reached and pulled out a book. In it a very detailed drawing, both an external drawing and a cut away one. So much more was labelled, the names of the parts just as in her drawing. He asked her to read.

Susan read out loud, “The erectile tissues fill with blood during sexual arousal, producing a strong response causing the penis to grow and stand. This is the erection. The root and body of the penis are spanned by three masses of erectile tissue. In the root, these are the left and right crura, and the bulb of the penis. The bulb is situated in the midline of the penile root. The bulb forms the corpus spongiosum, which lies ventrally. The male urethra runs through the corpus spongiosum—to prevent it becoming occluded during erection the corpus spongiosum fills to a reduced pressure. Distally, the corpus spongiosum expands to form the glans penis.” Susan looked up, “oh, all rather complicated.”

“So, Susan, what have you been doing with your boyfriend—Jose, isn’t it? Have you made him ejaculate?”

Susan nodded her head.

“Good, so you have seen that happen. You know it isn’t just one end result, that nothing happens until ejaculation, but the penis leaks sperm whilst you stroke.”

Again, she nodded, she had seen Jose’s knob get wet.

“If you are going to have sex with your boyfriend, Susan, you will need something like these.”

It had been leading up to contraception, a talk about sex somewhat inevitably led that way, and there, all at once, on the table was a surprisingly colourful box, a box of condoms. ‘Ed McCaffrey’s Power Sheaths’ she read, ‘Selection box, assorted colours and flavours, ribbed and smooth.’ The pictures on the box graphic and surprising, pictures not just of the condoms but them being worn. Men with big penises, men with hanging balls and all wearing brightly coloured condoms. Written across the pictures and in an italic handwriting sort of font, ‘And all because the lady loves a good poke’

“If you need somewhere to… to be a little private with your boyfriend, Susan, you can always come here or Mr Canning’s house. Your mother need not know.”

“Oh, thank you, Mr Lovell. That’d be so nice. Nice to be with Jose and… have sex.” She looked down at the colourful box, “It’s so nice of you to buy this for me; only I’m on the contraceptive pill now. But, but—don’t tell my mother.”

“Of course not, Susan. How sensible of you, only your mother did seem worried you didn’t know about the ‘birds and the bees,’ yet we find you quite the modern little girl, all genned up, indeed even on the contraceptive pill, so you won’t be needing this.

Mr Canning held a banana. Surely not, thought Susan, he had not really had that for her to practise how to put a condom on a man! She giggled. It was so silly; she had done that with Eve and Samantha years before, one hot afternoon in Eve’s bedroom with a packet of Durex she had produced. It had been a real hoot, they had laughed and giggled together.

“I also brought a few other things that might help,” said Mr Lovell. From under the table a bottle she recognised, ‘Ed McCaffrey’s penile lubricant;’ she so recognised the stylised logo, no mistaking the upright penile shape at its bottom and the upwards ‘Y’ of ‘McCaffrey’s’ clearly representing a massive ejaculation from the rounded shape below. ‘Ed McCaffrey’s penile lubricant—looks, tastes and smells just like the real thing. You won’t find better. 99% of housewives can’t tell it from semen.’

Susan knew if she unscrewed the lid she would find the plastic beneath had the shape of an exposed glans penis—she knew the proper names for the parts of genitalia. They were there in her handwriting on the diagrams she had drawn. She knew to the hole for the lotion to come out from the bottle was not round but oval just like the urethral opening. With its long neck she well knew what a girl like her could do with it. She had a bottle in her bedroom hidden under her bed. Should she tell Mr Canning that?

“This can be very useful, Susan, sometimes you might find with your boyfriend you are not really as enthusiastic as he but if you lotion up his penis it will slide in easily. So useful,” explained Mr Canning.

“You can, of course, Susan,” added Mr Lovell, “apply it to yourself, the bottle’s shape,” he unscrewed the lid, “is just like an erect penis, well-shaped. Even if you are too dry to get it inside you, you can just bring it to your opening and squirt. You try squeezing the bottle to see.”

Should she tell them she already had a bottle and had used a lot of the lotion. A bit embarrassing as they were almost bound to ask, ‘what for?’ Could she really tell them about fucking herself with it in bed, could she reveal how she had enjoyed pretending she was sucking on… Joe Maddison’s… penis, and it ejaculating in her mouth. The bottle did that so well.

Susan had forgotten the bottle before her was a new bottle, a full bottle and that Mr Lovell had unscrewed the cap. She should not have had it pointing in her direction. When she gave a squeeze it immediately revealed it was not her half full bottle but a full bottle. The ejaculation was prolific, it was not a little dribble or the mere running of a penis but a substantial spasm out and down onto her school uniform. It was across her pleated skirt, it was on her blouse soaking in and revealing her brassiere, and it was on her hand. Instinctively she licked. It did taste just like the real thing.

“Oh Susan!”

The two men were helpful, they had her uniform and brassiere off in no time and were scraping and dabbing the lotion off the material. “We can’t have you going home to your mother with semen all over you. What would she think!”

It did look so like semen—like the real thing.

“Now, where were we?” The two gentlemen sat down again with Susan, but this time she was not in her uniform, indeed all she was wearing was her knickers. She felt so exposed, the worse with the phallic bottle standing erect on the table. They were waiting. What were they waiting for? Should she squeeze it again? Surely they did not want to see her squeeze some into her vagina. She picked up the bottle carefully

“It’s very nice, err, lotion; silky smooth.” The two gentlemen were looking at her expectantly. What was she meant to say or do? “I got some on my hand.”

Mr Canning nodded but said nothing. Susan squeezed the bottle, a dollop pulsed between her breasts and then another. It was so like an ejaculation from a boy’s penis. She put the bottle down and reached with her fingertips and began massaging the ‘silky smooth’ lotion over her breasts. She found her nipples had hardened and were standing as two hard peas under her stroking fingers, just like that, all slippery with the semen like lotion. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, the feeling so good; within her knickers she felt herself lubricating even without Ed McCaffrey’s.

She caught herself; what was she doing in front of these two old gentlemen? “Sorry, I was…”

“That’s all right, Susan, all this talk has aroused your young femininity.” Mr Canning was clearing the coffee table, “Come lie here, let us remove your knickers, you’ll want to get your fingers between your legs won’t you? And, if I’m not mistaken, this bottle, not to lubricate, because I am sure your natural lubrication has come, but to feel its firm neck.”

The two of them were easing her down on her back on the wooden coffee table, mature fingers were reaching under the elastic of her knickers, easing them down so she could open her legs wide.

“Some more Ed McCaffrey?” The bottle was in Mr Lovell’s hand and from its opening came what was so like an ejaculation, two spurts—just like she had seen Jose do—across her tummy. But unlike when Jose had done that, and they had wiped it off with a tissue or two, Susan’s hand went to it and she found herself rubbing it across her tummy. Such a sensual feeling on her skin.

The two men were standing, looking down upon her, clearly interested in what was between her legs. She looked up and smiled and Mr Lovell squeezed the bottle again, another spurt across her tummy and then he was lowering the bottle, the neck and head moving between her thighs.

“Would you like your young femininity aroused some more, Susan?” Her head swam, she felt confused, not quite sure what she was doing or meant to be doing but, yes, she knew she did want that bottle to touch her; it would be like being in bed alone, imagining Jose’s hardness… or Joe Maddison’s.

“Please, Mr Canning, I want to be fucked.”

“Sarah, language! What would your mother say?”

“Sorry, Mr Canning.”

It was easier alone under the bedclothes. She could use what words she liked to herself—fuck, cunt, wank, prick, erection, orgasm, suck, spunk, cum. But, yet, as Mr Canning pushed the Ed McCaffrey bottle into her (cunt), it was so much better having someone else do it! The thought of it, and she had thought, Joe Maddison, Michael and Jose all standing around her—naked of course, all of them naked—say in the school changing rooms; their pricks all hard and standing whilst they touched her and (fucked) her with the Ed McCaffrey bottle. Her hands reaching and holding the boys’ hard penises. Her eyes closed as Mr Canning worked her with the plastic bottle neck. Lost in her imagination her hands reached out as if to hold Joe Maddison, Michael and Jose. Perhaps she was the only girl there. Perhaps around her the whole class watching; yes, all naked, watching the exhibition, watching her disporting on the bench, watching her being fucked by the bottle, watching her wanking the boys. Susan’s mouth opened, her lips forming a round shape as if another boy, perhaps Joe Maddison, perhaps Michael, perhaps Jose or was it one of the other boys’ prick was there for her to suck.

But, yes, she could feel the swollen knob end in her mouth. Nice Mr Canning, or was it Mr Lovell, had got his cock out and popped it in her mouth for her. She sucked greedily, yes, greedily. Susan wanted cock.

Oh, oh no. the bottle had been removed… but then relief, it was back… but, no, that was not plastic, it was real. Kind Mr Canning or Mr Lovell was giving her what she wanted.

“Fuck me,” she said.

“Susan! What would your mother say?”

What would her mother or her father, for that matter say if they could see her in the changing rooms at school being fucked by… she did not know who. Someone in her class or perhaps one of her teachers, the boys standing back respectfully as a teacher took charge, all their young cocks no less hard as they watched their classmate being fucked. What could be better too than to have a cock to suck as she was fucked? Susan sucked and her (cunt) was fucked.

A sudden spurt of Ed McCaffrey’s across her breasts, not hot enough to be (spunk), and her breasts then massaged. But, yes, that was what could be better. Her classmates stepping forward and wanking their pricks all around her and spurting their spunk upon her as she was fucked, hot jets of cum splashing onto her sensitive skin. She rubbing it, getting it so between her fingers.

Her orgasm came and Susan cried out, dropping the penis from her mouth. Eyes squeezed tight shut, face screwed up, mouth open and making loud inarticulate noises, thighs shuddering and vagina clamping around the invading prick. And then she felt it, on her face, on her breasts—not Ed McCaffrey’s but hot real cum spurting onto her skin just like in her imagination. And in her (cunt) she felt it too, the spurting of a male organ. She was being properly (fucked), her mind totally confused between reality and her imagination. Was it really one of her teachers—stern Mr Ballantyne, her history teacher with his talk of soldiers and battles, tall and professorial Mr Bevel or Mr Dench, her bearded maths teacher? Or were they all there lined up? Was she about to be (fucked) again? Susan did not mind. Really, she did not. A sigh and she passed out.

Susan came to, lying on a bed with Mr Canning and Mr Lovell looking down upon her.

“You worried us a bit Susan. You had a bit of a funny turn. I think it was all a bit much for you. A bit of a shock learning about the birds and the bees. It must be a bit surprising for a young girl to learn what men might do. But your mother did ask.”

“But… but the bottle of Ed Mc…”

“Yes, Susan, you got a bit carried away with that. I think you’ve used half a bottle. Look it’s all over you and…” Mr Canning looked embarrassed and turned away, “I think you pumped a lot into yourself as well. Was that your first ever orgasm, I wonder? Made you faint right away!”

“Now you know, Susan, all about those things. Do you still want to meet Jose here and…” Mr Lovell too turned away, clearly he did not want to talk about sexual intercourse.

“Yes please, Mr Lovell, if you don’t mind.”

It was Susan’s first meeting with Jose at Mr Lovell’s flat following the old boy’s kind invitation. His suggestion they might like to meet there and be intimate in his spare bedroom. Mr Lovell had simply opened his front door, smiled at the two of them standing, nervously, hand in hand and left them to it. He had not even shown them to the bedroom. Susan knew where it was. They had a nice time, a nice naked time and a very intimate one at that.

“Do you have to go?”

But Jose did. He blew a kiss as he left Susan. A swallow and the feeling of embarrassment but he rather felt he should say ‘thank you’ to Mr Lovell. The old man was sitting in his lounge reading a newspaper and with him another old man similarly reading. The other man did not seem surprised at his appearance. Did he know why he was there? He must do.

“Thank you, Mr Lovell, I’ll be going now.”

“No problem, dear boy, anytime. All went well?”

Jose coloured and mumbled something about it all having been good.

“You young people, so much get up and go… alas at my time of life, though I remember…”

Jose did not wait to hear the recollection but excused himself.

No sooner had the front door closed than both gentlemen put down their newspapers. “I think we should go and see don’t you, Mr Canning?”

“Yes, Mr Lovell, we should inspect Jose’s good work.”

The two men stood, smoothing down their trousers, and walked to the spare bedroom and opened the door.

“Oh dear, Susan, seems to have fallen asleep after her exertions.”

“They were at it a long time, Mr Canning.”

“Young people have a lot of stamina, Mr Lovell.”

“Do you think, Mr Canning, the young man might have come twice?”

“Young men have more resilience than us old boys. I could not do that, Mr Lovell, these days.”

“Nor me.”

Susan could vaguely hear the conversation at her room door. She rather felt it was time to go home. Mr Lovell had been so kind to lend his spare bedroom for her meeting with Jose and it had been so nice to be in bed together. But she did not wish to outstay her welcome. Yet she was so tired. She felt very ‘fucked.’ Jose had been good.

“I expect he produced a lot of semen.”

“The young again, Mr Lovell, easy erections and copious spendings. Wet dreams aplenty. Do you remember?”

“Waking in the night, Mr Canning, with pleasant recollections and soaking pyjamas! Yes, I remember.”

“I wonder how much Jose produced.”

“I wonder.”

There was silence and then Susan felt the bedclothes being pulled down. She tried but could not open her eyes. Perhaps she was dreaming.

“A lot, I expect.”

“I don’t think Susan would notice if there was a little more.”

“Every little helps, Mr Lovell. You feel a need to unburden yourself?”

“Indeed. You feel a wet dream coming on too, Mr Canning?”

“She is a little like that—a wet dream!”

Susan heard the rustle of clothes. Surely the old men were not thinking of…” There was movement on the bed and then she felt something—or rather some things. Things very like what Jose had also had—for a time. Hard, fleshy poking things touching her breasts. The old men were on the bed with her. It was as if she was paralysed and unable to move. Half conscious, but barely that. She could not even open her eyes to see.

“She does have lovely nipples.”

What was it that were rubbing her nipples? Whatever they were, certainly was silky smooth. Surely not the two old men’s knobs.

“Lovely nipples, indeed. I like to imagine them with milk.”

“A few years off breast feeding, alas.”

“Perhaps not if Jose keeps up his good work!” There were chuckles as she felt her legs being parted.

“Quite milky here, though, Mr Canning.”

“Young Jose is not so young as not to produce his own ‘milk’ eh?”

“He is well in milk. I expect the more this young milkmaid draws out, the more he produces.”

“Shall we fill her churn a little more, Mr Lovell?”

“You could spoon it out! So much.”

Susan could feel it all but could do nothing about it. Could feel a body rolling on top of her and pushing her down. With her thighs spread there was nothing she could do to prevent the invasion. Minutes before Jose’s smooth young cock had been pummelling her sex; now an older and craggier penis was sliding in, sliding very easily, and about to repeat the same act.

“Comfortable, Mr Canning?”

“Yes, thank you, very comfortable. A good fit.”

“Not too tight?”

“I think Jose has eased it somewhat. I am having not the slightest difficulty.” A grunt and then, “all the way in, Mr Lovell.”

Susan could not move but she could feel and hear the sounds of sexual intercourse. She could feel a penis, a very firm one, inside her vagina, where she had been very active with Jose. Up inside her body and sliding back and forth.

“Open your mouth, Susan, there’s a good girl.”

She felt her mouth opening of its own accord as if she was yawning and the smoothness of another penis slipping in, big and rounded. Of course she had done that to Jose before they had fucked; boys liked their cocks sucked—she could understand why; she had certainly wanted to do it to Jose, she was not sure she wanted to do it again now, but she sucked all the same.

It was not like being with Jose. He did not have two penises. She now had one in her mouth and one in vagina. And then they were withdrawn, and she found she was missing them. Her lips had tried to hold onto the one in her mouth and there had been a sucking sound as her vaginal muscles had clamped upon the other penis and tried not to let it go. As with Jose Susan found herself aroused. Nearly asleep, only semi-conscious as if half awoken from a dream—yes, a delicious wet dream that was so real.

Mmmm—the penis was back at her mouth, only, only it was all wet. It was the penis from her vagina and, as she licked, she was tasting semen. Had it come whilst away from her? No, no it must be the penis from her vagina and that would be Jose’s semen. She licked enthusiastically. I was her boyfriend’s cum. And then tried—and succeeded—gobbling the cock into her mouth. Between her legs she felt a firm penis pushing into her. Her pelvis thrusted up against it, her clitoris tingling and swollen. She was a girl in heat; a girl needing sexual release; a girl needing penises; a girl needing men—and in her half dream she had them!

Mouth moving, hips and vaginal muscles twitching, Susan came for a second time. A lovely first time, warm, cosy and romantically tucked away with her boyfriend; the second in a half dream, a stronger and wilder orgasm; hot cum seeming to fill her mouth as she sucked.

She lay there, satiated and tired, drifting back into sleep; the weight of one man still upon her as she sucked contentedly on the softening penis of another.

“Well, that was very good, Mr Lovell.”

“Indeed, most gratifying, Mr Canning.”

“We shall have to ensure Jose comes again.”

“He certainly warmed young Susan up for us.”

Susan blinked her eyes and opened them. She was lying naked in a strange bedroom and feeling very fucked. She remembered, she was at Mr Lovell’s and Jose had been there with her. How kind of Mr Lovell to let them borrow his spare room and bed for a clandestine meeting. It had been so lovely to be together in bed and… what strange dreams she had been having. She shook her head. What would her mother say—not about Jose, but about her dreams. Mr Lovell and Mr Canning were two really old men and gay to boot—what a thing to be having sexual dreams about them. How stupid and odd. Her mother would have laughed and laughed at her fancy. ‘Those two old ‘queens;’ pull the other one,’ she would have said. Susan sat up and thought it was time she should dress and go.

A knock at the door and there was Mr Lovell, neat and tidy, his hair perfectly brushed wearing a cardigan over his shirt and tie. “Cup of tea, Susan?” He had it in his hand. “Cover yourself up girl, you’ll embarrass me with your bosom.”

“Oh, sorry,” Susan pulled up the sheet modestly as Mr Lovell placed the cup and saucer beside her.

“No hurry, Susan. Shower if you wish. I hope you and Jose…” He seemed to become all embarrassed.

“Yes, thank you, Mr Lovell. It was very nice being with Jose.” Between her legs she felt very wet and squidgy. Yes, it had been very nice being with Jose and what they had done. But a shower would be good.

A walk-in shower; on a shelf a bottle of shower gel. ‘Ed McCaffrey’s Tingle—the shower gel that gives you that get up and go feeling.’ Upon the label a half-naked girl holding the bottle in what Susan thought was a rather rude way—it reminded her of what she had done to Jose with her encircling fingers—not a few times.

‘I’m lovin’ it,’ said a speech bubble coming from the girl’s mouth.

“I bet you are,” whispered Susan, yet finding herself holding the bottle in the same way as the girl whilst she squeezed the gel. It was white and clear, swirling creamy. So like what Jose produced when she did that to him! She rubbed it onto her skin, and it made her tingle. She had enjoyed her fuck with Jose. She would ask if they could come again the next week.

She was sure Mr Lovell would be happy for her to come again.