Seamus, Charlotte, and the Showgirl

Our hero is found, as he usually is on a Saturday night, seated at his desk, banging away on the keyboard of a laptop computer that would most charitably be described as antique. Nonetheless, it is adequate for the creation of his opus, which he works on every spare minute he can steal. Seamus, the teller of tales, is mired in the difficult work of honing and polishing words that have suddenly become too familiar, so familiar that he is hard-pressed to find a new way to approach them. The clatter of keys stops for a moment as he thoughtfully chews on a pen, trying to work out a particularly stubborn passage for the fifth time. Out his window he sees the light come on in the bedroom of his neighbor, a pretty blonde with a healthy exhibitionist streak who has treated him to many fine and sultry demonstrations in the past. He has dubbed her “Showgirl,” and he wonders who is on the agenda tonight. Perhaps the landlord again? Perhaps a little solo play? Seamus sees that she is already nude as she makes her way to the bed, her skin slightly paler than her blonde hair. She leans back on the bed, bent elbows supporting her. Her legs, invisible, must be over the edge of the bed. She arches her back and throws her head back with visible pleasure, and he knows she is not alone; he can see her hands working her nipples, her breasts filling her small hands. Someone is ensconced between her creamy thighs, and he shifts in his seat, his head filled with images of himself in that coveted spot. Our hero’s patience is rewarded as the mystery lover is revealed, in an unexpected twist. Showgirl pulls herself up further onto the bed, followed by a tousle of reddish curls, topping a curvaceous body that broadcasts “girl!” Seamus drops his pen. Hello! This is new. He settles in for the show, already starting to squirm as he sees pale feminine flesh touching same, the delicious dance of two pairs of breasts, touching and retreating as the women kiss and stroke each other. Then, as she is wont to do, Showgirl turns to look hard out the window, as if she is looking for him. Her lips move, and her auburn-haired friend also looks out the window for their audience of one. Suddenly, they are gone, and the bed is empty. Seamus catches his breath, disappointed, and then breathes out in a long whistle as the beauties are now framed in the window, one petite and fair, sleek and athletically curvy, the other tall and voluptuous, her red hair echoing her warmed pink skin. The fairy and the Amazon. He is enthralled, and then stunned as he sees them both crook a finger and beckon to him.

* * *

“Oh Charlotte, that is fabulous,” said Ellen as her friend traced the inside of her thighs with a dainty tongue. Charlotte’s long outstretched fingers spanned the tanned thighs of her supine friend as she spread them a little further. Charlotte said nothing, as she was busy placing butterfly kisses along Ellen’s smooth mound, dipping down now and again to kiss her lover’s dark pink lips in a gentle tease. “Let me scoot up on the bed a little so you can join me,” said Ellen as she made room for her lover. By habit, Ellen looked out the window, searching for her fan. She had seen him there so many times, and it gave her a thrill to perform for him. The glow of the desk lamp made him only a silhouette from her vantage point, but she’d seen him many times as he came and went from his house. He was young looking, dark hair and eyes. She had never spoken to him, but had shared hundreds of intimate moments with him; she almost felt she knew him. “He’s there,” she whispered to Charlotte, who had heard of the man at the desk many times.
“Is he?” Charlotte said, not whispering. “I’d like to see this mystery man,” she said as she moved up to join her friend, stifling further conversation with a deep kiss as she felt her way across the landscape of Ellen’s soft skin. “Haven’t you ever wondered what he’d be like?” she murmured into the hollow of Ellen’s neck. She looked up toward the window herself, trying to discern him in the shadows.
“So many times, I can’t tell you,” breathed Ellen as she reached to stroke Charlotte’s ample breasts. It had all started with Thomas, a crashing bore in bed, and when she’d seen the man at the desk for the first time, she imagined making love to him, wishing herself to ecstasy with the dark-eyed man as Thomas labored away dutifully, if without inspiration.
“Well, let’s invite him on over then,” Charlotte said, her eyes daring Ellen as she kissed the inside of her elbow, smooching her way down to Ellen’s delicate fingers, sucking each one in turn.
“Are you serious? He’d probably die if we did any such thing,” Ellen protested, weakly, as Charlotte swirled her tongue into Ellen’s palm, sending shivering ripples of pleasure straight to her crotch.
“Even better!” said Charlotte. “Let’s see what he does. Maybe he’ll turn pink to his ears. Don’t you want to know?”
“Of course I do. All right, let’s do it, before I change my mind,” she said as she jumped off the bed, pulling Charlotte behind her.
They pulled the curtains back from the window and arranged themselves as casually as they could, arms around each other’s back, hips touching. Charlotte waved a little to catch his eye, not realizing that his gaze had not wavered since the light had come on in Ellen’s room. Then they both wiggled their fingers at him in the universal signal of “come hither.” “What’s he doing?” Charlotte wondered. “Nothing yet,” said Ellen as the arm she had around Charlotte moved south to grasp a handful of Charlotte’s ass.

* * *

Our hero remained stunned only momentarily. His debate with himself was ended with the remembrance of two words: Carpe diem. He saved his document, threw on a shirt, ran his fingers through his hair, and popped a piece of peppermint gum into his mouth as he locked his door behind him. Seamus realized halfway down the walk that he’d forgotten his glasses, but decided it wasn’t worth going back for them. The opportunity to live a fantasy did not come every day; he wasn’t about to tarry. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

* * *

The knock at the door surprised them, even though Ellen and Charlotte had known it was coming. The mystery man had wasted little time, and they’d seen his shadow move quickly through his room. “I like a man who is decisive,” Charlotte cracked.
“Answer it!” Ellen directed Charlotte from her spot on the bed.
Charlotte undid the locks, and then slowly opened the door to find him standing there in a pose simultaneously casual and expectant. He was very cute in a pair of jeans and a shirt so hastily put on that it was inside out. He was a bit taller than she, quite slender, but had an aura of quiet strength. “Hello, lover,” she said, her voice rich and warm as she held out her hand to him. He took it, and she opened the door wider to let him pass.

* * *

“Hello,” said our hero, “I’m Seamus.” From the bed Showgirl said, “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Ellen.” “Nice” didn’t begin to cover it, thought Seamus, as he smiled at the two of them, a portion of his brain wondering at him being in the room he’d peered into from afar, at the invitation of the two naked goddesses that were before him now. The woman holding his hand, (and who seemed in no hurry to let it go), introduced herself as Charlotte. “What is it you do at that desk? You seem to be there at all hours,” asked Showgirl, now Ellen. “I’m a writer,” he said. “I’m writing a book.”
“A book?” the Amazon repeated. “Beauty and brains, Ellen. We are very, very lucky girls tonight.”
“How can I be of assistance to you beautiful ladies?” he asked, fairly sure of their party’s destination, but not quite sure of the route.
“We were hoping you’d rather play with us than watch,” Showgirl said. Her tall friend nodded in agreement, and then asked, “Are you up for it?”
He was.

* * *

__________________
OTP, siempre

My photo threads...

Latest: Cool April Morning

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Stories
Thank You, Come Again / Robyn's Roommate / Seamus, Charlotte, and the Showgirl / God, It's Good to Be Queen

"I walk with my head held high and naked in the sun, claiming these streets for myself."--Jonatha Brooke

“Lovely,” said Charlotte. “I love a man who knows what he wants. I love it even better when what he wants is me,” she chuckled. “You really are overdressed for the occasion, Mr. Seamus,” she said as she moved toward the bed, “And we have a strict dress code for entrance into this bed. As you see, Ellen and I are in strict adherence to it. Would you care to comply?” Charlotte lazily stroked Ellen’s thigh, both women’s eyes drinking him in as he pulled the shirt over his head. His unveiling revealed his slim torso, wiry, smooth skin pulled taught over muscle. A thin dark line of hair trailed from his navel disappearing into his jeans, and both Charlotte and Ellen held their breath as he unbuttoned, then unzipped, stopping his pants’ downward progress at the knee to kick off his thongs. Ellen moved to make a space on the bed for the man, now nude but for his watch. As he lay down between them, she whispered in his ear, “You are exquisite,” as she traced a finger along the edge of his ear, down his jaw-line and to his neck. Charlotte snuggled closer on his left.

* * *
Suddenly, our hero is enveloped in female flesh, a tangle of arms as he reaches around each of his new friends, his lap blanketed by two warm thighs, the bearable torture of soft lips exploring his chest. In the crook of his right arm is a sweet blonde, eyeing him through pale eyelashes and he is overwhelmed with the desire to kiss her, taste her now after yearning for her so many times. She is sweet, her mouth soft, yielding to his curious tongue.
He looks then to his left and sees only a mass of auburn curls. However, he can feel Charlotte’s tongue circling his nipple, then dabbing at it en pointe, then the cool breeze of her breath as the trail she left evaporates, causing him to shiver. She inspires Ellen who latches on to the other nipple, and Seamus closes his eyes, dropping his head back, content to be at the mercy of these two. He strokes their backs, and when they pause, he looks down to find them kissing each other, having reunited in the middle of his chest. They are each attentive to their territory, leaving not a single rib untasted as they move closer and closer to his cock, now standing smartly at attention. The anticipation grows with each new kiss, and the swirl of tongues in tandem on his hipbones causes him to moan.

* * *
Ellen’s and Charlotte’s attention slips and slides and does figure-eights between him and themselves as they explore their mystery man, a mystery no more. Ellen is thrilled by his silky skin as she adorns it with imprints of lips, tongue, and fingers. He is delicious, and she is, once again, happy her friend is as bold as she is. Charlotte is taken with his apparent delicacy, but with every placement of her hand she finds him firm, hard, a thoroughbred. Her eye wanders to his firm hardness in strong relief against his body and she imagines what is to come. She is overwhelmed with lust, lost in the beauty of her gorgeous friend and this beautiful man. She reaches his shaft first and without hesitation takes him full into her mouth, wanting to hear his pleasure dribble in half-words and moans from his lips. She is not disappointed. She nurses the purple head with tight lips, circling around its underside with an eager tongue. By now Ellen has joined her, and she relinquishes her prize, willing to share.

* * *
Seamus lightly clutches handfuls of hair as he slips into oblivion, driven there by the heady sensation of two tongues licking the length of his cock, covering every inch of it in a glaze of their mixed saliva. They shift position now, Ellen adoring his shaft, Charlotte gently taking his sack into her mouth, teasing one side and then the other with her tongue. Within reach now are their beautiful bottoms, round and full, high in the air, and he grabs a handful of each, kneading, pulling, then following the splits with his fingers until he reaches dewy lips, the gates to paradise. He slides his fingers in to each waiting passage, a handful of heaven. He is gratified to hear the muffled moans coming from the lips devouring his groin. He cannot be passive anymore, and grabs Ellen’s hips to swing her around to his own lips, desperate to drink of her flowing well. She is pleasantly tart, and he buries his tongue deep into her as she rears up, supporting herself with her hands on his chest as she strives to strike the perfect distance for maximum worship without suffocating her lover. His cock is released from Ellen’s mouth, and Charlotte makes her move, straddling him as she guides his steely sword into her velvet sheath. Left with two dripping fingers now unoccupied, he slides one of them slowly into Ellen’s shadowed back door.
* * *
“Oh god,” Ellen cried out as she felt him enter her, as she bucked against his hand, feeling the fantastic pressure of his knuckle between her cheeks as he entered and withdrew his finger. Now facing her was Charlotte, riding hard on Seamus’ cock, her bountiful breasts bouncing with each thrust. Charlotte was a loud lover, and getting louder with each downward plunge. She was beautiful, eyes closed, head thrown back, immersed in her own rising pleasure. Ellen had to kiss her. She reached for her, and they kissed deeply, the kiss of longtime lovers, each of their tongues seeking the other’s out. They embraced, forming a perfect triangle, their new lover a gorgeous base. Charlotte’s body now blushed all over, Ellen’s still pale, but glistening. Charlotte has gripped Ellen’s hand as she begins to chant “Oh yeah…oh yeah…” and Ellen holds tight as Charlotte arrives with a cry, feeling a jolt of energy through their intertwined fingers. She rides it out as if trying to wring him of pleasure, then falls to the bed beside them, gasping. Ellen, enticed by the bright red petals of Charlotte’s swollen bud, reaches for her, burying her face in Charlotte’s flooded plain. In doing so, she lifts herself from her current seat of pleasure, displaying her own tantalizing goddess, gleaming in the lamplight.

* * *
Our hero is now freed from the luscious weight from his captors, and moves around to see Ellen’s blonde head bob between Charlotte’s thighs as she licks Charlotte clean, neglecting no crevice, sucking her nectar off of each swollen lip, from where it trickled down her thighs. Charlotte is moaning; Ellen is encouraging. “You like that, don’t you? You want another, don’t you? I’m going to help you, baby. Ellen’s going to make you come again.” Charlotte makes vaguely affirmative noises, and Seamus hardens further at this change of roles, the Amazon now whimpering, the fairy taking charge. He cannot wait any longer, and slides into Ellen, her slick passage snug and welcoming, taking his whole length as he steadies himself with a hand on each of her rounded hips. Ellen moans around a mouthful of Charlotte, and he acts on her approval, thrusting in long, even strokes. “Harder,” she says, “Harder, please.” He accommodates her, and she cries out every time his balls bounce against her clit. He hears, “oh that is so GOOD,” through gritted teeth, it echoing his own sentiments as her hot sheath grasps his throbbing cock with each thrust. The pitch of her cries rises in a crescendo as she climaxes, fortissimo. She is a trooper, though, and doesn’t miss a beat as she laps at Charlotte’s tingling bud, her cry of passion beginning as Ellen’s fades. All parties but himself satisfied, Seamus drops all inhibitions and focuses on his own pleasure as it floods his brain, any thoughts of football statistics dispersed. He is intent on the feeling of Ellen’s softness as it envelops him, hot and wet, the feeling of her skin under his fingers, the vision of Charlotte, spent and angelic in front of them, reclined against the pillows. He feels the muscles of his thighs tighten in anticipation, and with a shout, he lets loose his own flood into Ellen’s already brimming cup, the tension running out of him in a torrent. Ellen turns around and kisses him, and he can taste Charlotte, salty. “Thank you, lover,” she says, eyes soft and kind. “My pleasure,” he answers, suave ‘til the end. He takes up the place where he started, sandwiched between soft, sleepy women. The three lovers caress and nuzzle until, finally, sleep conquers them.

__________________
OTP, siempre

My photo threads...

Latest: Cool April Morning

XXXII XXXIII XXXIV XXXV XXXVI XXXVII XXXVIII XXXIX

Stories
Thank You, Come Again / Robyn's Roommate / Seamus, Charlotte, and the Showgirl / God, It's Good to Be Queen

"I walk with my head held high and naked in the sun, claiming these streets for myself."--Jonatha Brooke