What a Waist

I am standing at one of the floor-to-ceiling windows in Sara’s living room, a cup of strong, sweet Turkish coffee in my hands, my forehead against the pane, watching the stars come out. The western horizon is indigo; the rest of the sky has already deepened to ebony. The reflection of the candlelit living room behind me floats ghostly in the heavens.

Toby and Sara are slow dancing to Mother Earth’s first album. The album finishes with Tracy Nelson’s heartbreaking Down So Low. The end of the song brings my focus off the stars and I see my lovers’ reflections as they cross toward me.

Toby comes up beside me and stands with his back to the window, the better to watch. Sara comes up behind me. She touches my bare back just above the zipper. I respond with a sharp intake of breath. She lowers the zipper. I have been waiting for this forbidden touch for a very long time. My heart pumps harder, filling my veins, warming and coloring my fair skin.

Sara slides her hands inside the charmeuse and holds my hips. She whispers, “What a waste.”

I giggle at the pun. She slides her hands up my ribcage ever so slowly. When she gets to my breasts she stops and moves a quarter-step closer. I feel her warm breath on the back of my neck as she gently pets the sides of my breasts with her fingertips.

I hand Toby my coffee cup and turn around. Facing Sara, I slip the right halter strap off my shoulder and let it fall. The right side of the dress falls open, baring my 34D right breast. I take my arm out of the strap and then slip the left halter strap off my shoulder and let it fall. The left side of the dress falls to my hips, baring my 34D left breast. I take my arm out of the strap and let my charmeuse cocktail dress fall to my hips. I wrap my arms around me, hiding my breasts more quickly than I bared them.

Sara, eyes wide, breath shallow, tugs on my hem, pulling the dress over my hips until it falls to the floor. I step out of it and surprise both of them by walking away. I stop in the center of the room. I do not turn to them and I keep my arms over my tits. I can feel their eyes. They study: the bouquet of curls pinned to the crown of my head; my tanned, fit shoulders and back; the tan line left by my bikini top; the pale tops of my heart-shaped buttocks peeking out of skimpy, lacy black panties stretched tight over my big, sweet ass. They study my nylon sheathed legs, my satin clad feet.

I unwrap my arms, extend them straight up and stretch. I twist a little as I do so, giving Toby and Sara side views of the big tits I have for them to suck on. When the stretch is over I bring my hands down to the top of my head and remove my pearl clips from my hair. Holding the up-do in place with one hand, I throw the clips on the coffee table and start pulling out bobby pins with the other. I casually turn as I prepare to let down my hair, so that when I am ready I am facing my lovers, both hands atop my head, my tits as well displayed as they will ever be, my pussy behind black silk, my legs shapely in nylon stockings, my ballet slippers strapped and bowed. I think, “Do with me what you will.”

I drop my chin, release my locks, run my fingers through my hair. As my chin comes up I toss my head and golden curls fall haphazardly about my face.
Sara approaches. She stops just out of reach, crosses her arms and places her hands on her thighs. She begins gathering the stretchy, thin, synthetic material of her evening dress into her palms. The hem rises steadily: perfectly turned ankles; calves as flawless as I have been imagining; smooth, lean thighs the color of Easter lily petals.

Having gathered the hem into her hands, she lifts the dress slowly above her pussy, showing us thin white cotton panties with a frill of lace at the waist. I note no sign of a bush and swallow deeply. She pulls her dress over her head and tosses it onto a chair. Her delicate, lace trimmed, strapless bra is made of the same thin white cotton as her panties. It has no supporting material, snuggling her breasts with the kind of intimate fit a tight, thin t-shirt provides, but much, much better. Her aureoles, visible under the paper thin cloth even in the candlelight, are small and cone shaped, almost an extension of her perky, eminently suckable nipples.

These acts – a woman and man watching at a distance as I reveal my sexual self, the woman revealing her sexual self to me, the three of us about to embark on acts of orgy – have been at the core of my erotic fantasy life for so long that I am slipping into a dream state of sorts, a reality different than the one in which I normally live. It is a world where candlelight is variegated, made up of many colors; where flesh is able to sense a spectrum of sensations, from slight drafts to deep longings and everything in between; where scent is almost as intense as touch. Here, now, I smell Sara’s light, spicy perfume and her moistening pussy. I take a small step closer and reach out to her. She pulls me into her arms. My stiff nipples brush the soft underside of her breasts. I tilt my head back. She kisses me on the mouth; one soft, tongue-less purse of her full lips.

She turns in my arms until I am holding her from behind. I look over her shoulder at Toby. I nibble her shoulder as I watch him. He is so ruggedly handsome, so male. He smiles at the two of us, trusting us with his hunger, and my heart melts. I want to drive him wild with desire. I want him to ravish me.

I cup Sara’s breasts through her bra and jiggle them for him. The breasts surprise me with how different they feel from my own: softer, mushier. I press my tits against her back. She reaches behind, puts her hand on my ass and starts kneading my round, firm buttocks.
Toby loosens his tie and tosses it aside. He takes off his suit coat and does the same with it. He is wearing a dress shirt with French cuffs. He undoes his silver cufflinks, puts them in his pants pocket, and starts to unbutton his shirt. He takes his time, slipping a hand inside to rub a pec at one point, to pinch a nipple at another. He untucks the shirt, undoes the last button and takes it off. He is spectacular; tanned, cut, lean.

I pinch Sara’s engorged nipples through her thin bra and shake her tits. She moans and squeezes my ass with all her strength. I pull back so she can feel just my nipples brushing against her.

With perfect balance Toby places the ankle of one leg against the knee of the other. He slips off a black Florsheim and takes off his sock. He returns his now bare foot to the carpet and repeats the process with the other foot. Then he unbuckles, unbuttons, unzips, lets his pants drop to the carpet and steps out of them. He is wearing tight white briefs that cling to his rippling thighs. His hard-on is enormous.

Sara kneels and opens her arms. Toby steps into them, reaches down, takes her strapless bra in both hands and rips it in two. Sara grunts with excitement, grabs the waist band of his boxers and pulls them down, freeing his penis.

She grabs her breast with one hand and his cock with the other. As she massages her breast she rubs her face with the cock; pressing the shaft against one cheek and then the other, closing her eyes and pressing the soft head against her closed lids, stroking her neck and the tender spot under the chin. Finally she rubs him against her lips and takes him in her mouth. Toby reaches for me, and I for him, and we embrace; kissing, nuzzling, while Sara kneels between us, sucking his cock.

Toby is soon frantic with desire, grabbing and slapping my tits and ass and belly and hips. As Sara’s head bobs up and down on his cock the back of her head bumps against my mound of Venus again and again. My panties are wet with my lubricant.

Toby releases me and steps back, pulling his cock out of Sara’s mouth and hand. Except for his rapid, shallow respiration, he is motionless, trying not to come. Sara touches his contracted scrotum; the testicles have almost entirely retracted. He brushes her hand away.

Several moments pass as his breathing slows and deepens. He reaches down, places his hands under Sara’s arms and lifts her to her feet. I hold her to me, one arm across her chest, one arm around her tiny waist. Her ass presses against my hips, her back presses against my big pink aureoles and hard brown nipples.

“Sorry, girls,” Toby apologizes, “but the boy needs a break.”

Sara laughs. I like the feel of her laughing in my arms. She says, “If you are laboring under the impression that this is going to be a one orgasm night, you are mistaken, perhaps sorely so.”

It is her turn to feel me laugh.

She takes a side step and I release her. She makes a half turn so she is facing us. She pulls her panties over her hips and shimmies a time or two to get them to drop to the floor. She has a tight, shaved pussy with fat outer lips. Her tender labia majora flows from a prominent, smooth, curvaceous mons pubis. At her slit there is a faint trace of pink, her inner labia peeking out. I am aroused as never before.

She continues addressing Toby: “How about this for an agenda: you come in my mouth. Then you pour yourself a drink.” She steps a half step to the side and with hands tipped a shiny pale blue, slowly spreads her vaginal lips. “Then you watch your wife lick this.”

I can’t resist. I turn, reach and touch her open pussy. She withdraws her hands and watches me pet her. She says to Toby, “Then you have another orgasm. And so on.”

She kisses me and pulls my hand away. She turns toward Toby and kneels. Her full lips are swollen even bigger by the blessing of arousal. She takes his blue-hard shaft in hand and wraps her lips around his swollen but still soft head. Toby places his hands on the back of her head and pumps his perfect ass. He watches me watch him. He fucks her mouth hard and shoots his load down her eagerly swallowing throat within a minute.