Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
I’m still on my knees when Barnaby takes his dick away and drops into the seat next to David on the sofa. They grab hold of each other’s cocks as I get to my feet with a giggle.
“You want a birthday show?” I say, and roll my hips as I stand before them. “I’ll give you one, and I’ll love every second of it.”
It feels so liberating to be on display and performing like this again. I give them a twirl in my black velvet dress, then do a curtsy, leaning down low to display the tight line of my cleavage. I run my hands down my sides, and drop into a crouch, legs spread as I tease my hands up my thighs.
I love giving strip shows. The shell I’ve been hiding in has well and truly cracked away and set me free as I display myself like a true entertainer while two eager men eye me up with rock hard cocks in their hands.
I take a step forwards and raise my foot until my cute black pixie boot is resting on Barnaby’s knee.
“Please give me a hand, birthday boy,” I say, and he lets go of David’s cock so he can unfasten my boot.
I’ve painted my toes in deep scarlet, visible through the holes in my fishnets. It makes Barnaby groan as he tosses the boot to the side and runs his hands up my calf.
“I love fishnets,” he says and I wink at him.
“Want to see more of them?”
I switch feet and he takes off my other boot. I slide my foot up his thigh to his crotch, and lift the skirt of my dress to reveal the rest of my fishnets… and the sopping lacy black panties I’m wearing underneath.
My dress is easy to tug up and over my head. My bra is a lace push up, and I grip my tits tight in my hands, squeezing my nipples.
“Did the lovely Lucy have tits like mine?” I ask, and Barnaby smirks.
“She had great tits. Not quite as big as yours, though.”
I feel empowered by the sexual tension in the room as I retreat from the sofa far enough so both men have me in full view. The dance I perform doesn’t need a beat, it’s pure sensuality as I snake my hands up and down my body, swaying and displaying myself like a horny vixen.
It would be so easy to strip myself naked, but I don’t want to deny Barnaby the pleasure. Instead, when I’ve finished my moves, I straddle him and grind my pussy against his hard cock, pinning him to the back of the Chesterfield.
I rub my tits against his face, and he reaches behind me to unclip my bra, setting me free.
His moan of appreciation says it all.
He sucks my bullet hard nipples, one after the other, and squeezes my tits in his hands. I’m consumed by the sensations, heady with the need for cock and grinding, grinding, grinding, when David leans in and runs his fingers down my back.
“Let’s get this beauty to the bedroom, Barney.”
They are a strong pair, hoisting me up easily between them. I have my legs wrapped around Barnaby’s waist as he carries me to the bedroom, and I figure it’s going to be the both of them coming in with me until David breaks off and heads for the kitchen.
“I’ll get the champagne. Go on, you two, get the party started.”
Barnaby flicks the light switch on the way in, and it’s a pleasure to see their boudoir. Boudoir is the right name for it. It’s as flamboyant as the brocade of Barnaby’s red and gold shirt. Decadent, with deep red satin bedding, and a low hanging chandelier.
Birthday boy drops me down onto the bed, and I reach out my arms for him to join me, but he shakes his head with a smile.
“Let’s wait for that champagne.”
Ah, he’s thinking about the man in the kitchen, with the ring of commitment on his finger. The one who told us to go ahead and get started.
“David’s really something,” Barnaby says when my eyes flit to the door. “He had so many options to pick from for a birthday present. Hell, he could have got me another Labubu, or a new pair of brogues, or even a trip to Weston Super Mare for some fish and chips on the pier. All of them would have been incredible.” His eyes land on me, and he sighs. “But out of all of the amazing things he could have chosen, he chose you. I’ve been joking about this fantasy for nearly a decade.”
I know I shouldn’t ask questions, but I can’t help myself.
“How long have you been together?”
“Fourteen years.”
“Wow! When did you get married?”
“Six years ago.” His face lights up as he smiles. “He proposed next to the Chesterfield on the night we moved in.”