Ben became aware of the early morning sunshine stealing around the curtains as he rose to wakefulness. He felt a leisurely excitement as his gathering consciousness remembered that it was his birthday, that the day he’d been planning with Marcie for weeks had finally come around. The vague memories of his confused dream, gardening with a schoolteacher, roped into harnesses together in the boughs of a great tree, leaked away as his eager thoughts about the day ahead gathered pace.
Yet when he rolled over, tangling the duvet between his legs, he saw that Marcie’s side of the bed was empty. He was sorry, as he would have liked to give her a cuddle, even if that impulse was also selfishly driven by a desire to press his morning erection against her body. He could feel that his waking penis was long and turgid, and he enjoyed the sensations of it rubbing against his new pyjamas and the cushioned softness of the crumpled duvet. However he was aware that he also needed to use it to pee, so once he’d enjoyed a final luxuriant stretch, he rolled over and out of the bed, feeling some stiffness in his muscles from yesterday’s long gym session as he rose to his feet.
He found the living room and kitchen empty, and the bathroom door firmly closed. He knocked cautiously, aware that Marcie sometimes needed her privacy, and immediately heard her urgently respond, “Don’t come in yet! I’m just sorting something out.”
Ben acknowledged, then turned to put the kettle on, wondering what she’d meant. Only a moment later she emerged, wrapped in her blue silk dressing gown, her hair still bound back in her nighttime plait. He noticed she’d turned the gown’s lapels up and tightly tied the fabric strip of its belt around her waist, and he immediately realised that she’d very deliberately covered herself up. In a flash of insight, he guessed that she may have something else on underneath that she didn’t want him to see yet. He thought perhaps she’d bought some special new underwear that she wanted to show off as a birthday treat for him. If that were the case, he’d be very glad of it, and he silently vowed that he’d patiently wait until she was ready to reveal her surprise.
“Happy birthday, Ben,” she said, smiling warmly as she stepped forward to wrap him in her arms, her hands slipping across his bare back and around his shoulders. Ben held her to him, feeling the warmth of her body and the soft pressure of her breasts through the slick fabric against the skin of his torso. He bent his neck down to kiss her upturned face, pressing his lips to hers with a lingering, sensitive sincerity. He pressed himself to her through the thin fabric of his pyjama trousers too, and inhaled the sleepy scent of her hair and body through his flared nostrils. Yet their mouths remained closed, and Ben took this as a cue to draw back.
“Hmm, you caught me a little too soon,” Marcie murmured, then went on more assertively, “Why don’t you go back to bed, once you’ve had your wee if you need it. Then I’ll finish getting myself ready and bring your birthday morning mug of tea through. I think we’ve got time for a bit of time for a lie-in before your special delivery turns up.”
Ben agreed as he checked the kitchen clock, seeing they had about two hours before the grab truck arrived, then he used the bathroom with the door ajar while he heard Marcie get on with making tea. As he made his way back to the bedroom, in compliance with her instructions, he paused briefly, reaching his arm around Marcie’s waist from behind to give her a squeeze and peck on her warm neck. Then he pulled away, strode through the flat, and slipped back under the duvet, wondering if Marcie’s idea of a lie-in might stretch to something a little more active and erotically expressive than her innocent phrase implied. Though he knew that he couldn’t presume Marcie would make sex part of her birthday gift to him, he still hoped they could have the opportunity to share the intimacy that would make the day even more special.
As Ben lay back and relaxed amongst the white bedclothes, he rehearsed their plan for the day in his mind, also thinking that Marcie seemed to have been gone quite a while. But then he heard movement in the corridor and looked up to see her coming through the door with two mugs of tea in her hands. Ben leapt up from the bed to take one or both from her hands, yet her transformed appearance had left him speechless.
“Happy birthday, Ben,” she said again as she stepped forwards to hand over a mug with a huge beaming grin, “Nurse Marcie will see you now!”
Ben had immediately recognised her outfit for what it was, and he was stupefied by the effect that it had on him, with all that it implied about Marcie’s willingness to indulge his erotic desires. Though the white dress with its short sleeves, low square-cut neckline and outrageously high hemline may have been ambiguous, the broad navy belt, pinned watch and square white cap tucked into Marcie’s hair, now brushed out in that dark frizzy halo of hers, gave its role away clearly. This was obviously in no way a practical or functional costume though, especially as Ben took in the exciting gap between the dress and the lacey tops of the white sheer hold-up stockings that Marcie had also put on.
He realised she must have put a lot of thought and planning into this, finding a way to turn the playful fantasies that they’d exchanged into a reality. Yet for all the salacious excitement that her stereotyped sexy nurse character triggered, Ben also thought the outfit had a kind of cute naivety, as if it had been pulled from a children’s dressing-up box. He thought this may have something to do with the big blue buttons that ran up the front of the dress, or the awkward way that the fabric gaped around her shoulders whilst getting creased tight across her stomach. But then it dawned on him that the whole thing had a subtly home-made appearance.
“Holy Mother, Marcie!” he exclaimed, automatically using her Catholic expletives himself now, “You look amazing! Where did you get it?”
“Well, I found the belt and the watch in charity shops, and the tights are just from Next,” she explained as she put her mug of tea down. Following Ben as he slipped back under the duvet, she got onto the bed on her knees, continuing, “But I made the dress myself on Shona’s sewing machine while I was chatting over coffee and babysitting upstairs. I thought I just had to, as the ones I found in the shops looked so cheap and naff. I hope you like it. The cap’s just a bit of the spare material dosed with fabric stiffener and glued to a hair clip.”
“I love it,” he said sincerely, at a loss for further words as he took a sip from his own hot tea before setting it aside to recline against the pillows.
She’d reached up with both hands to touch the cap and pat her hair as she knelt above him. Ben soaked in the glowing smile playing on her lips, which Marcie had made up with a bold glossy red lipstick since he’d caught her in the kitchen. He noticed that she’d also outlined her eyes with makeup, so they seemed alluringly large as they sparkled behind her glasses. Her whole appearance, and perhaps the significance behind it - that she had put a lot of work into making herself sexy for him - had directly affected Ben at the most basic level. He knew his arousal had started returning as soon as Marcie had stepped into the room, her deliberate play to his libido immediately having the intended effect. At first he’d felt a little guilty and ashamed of the cliche of his base lust for her in this role, especially as she’d perhaps suppressed her own wishes to make his dress-up fantasy a reality. But now he realised that she’d plainly wanted to provoke this exact response, to create a naughty private scene for them to share, and he relished the pleasant physical reaction that she’d induced.
So Ben boldly admitted, “You’ve turned me on. Look,” pushing the duvet aside as he spoke. Though he revealed the bare skin of his flat stomach, his hips and thighs were covered by his white pyjama bottoms. Despite this, his stiff erection was obvious beneath the thin cotton.
“Well, I’m glad that you’ve recently picked up the habit of wearing something in bed from your well-mannered girlfriend, Mister Osborne,” Marcie said, seemingly slipping into character as she shuffled forwards and played the tips of her fingernails over his chest and stomach, tangling with the black cord that Ben now wore her Maltese cross on, “A professional young woman might not have known where to put herself if she’d suddenly found your priapic manhood exposed under the bedsheets.”
“Does that mean you don’t want me to get it out?” Ben asked anxiously.
“Oh, you must know that nurses get to see everything in the end,” she said as she teasingly ran her fingernails further down, over the long ridge of Ben’s poorly concealed penis, making him twitch involuntarily with a delicious shiver. “Come along, we may as well get on with it, stripping you down to your birthday suit as it were,” she added. Then she gripped his pyjama’s waistband and began trying to pull them down, prompting Ben to lift his buttocks up and wriggle about to help. His erection got caught in the cloth, but Marcie confidently reached under the tangled fabric to grasp him, twisting and tugging his stiffly swollen member, taking just a moment to free it. She left it pointing up towards his bellybutton as she shuffled down on her knees, tugging the pyjamas’ legs down his thighs, past his knees and ankles, and finally over his feet.
She spoke as she undressed him in this way, her improvised performance leaving Ben uncertain of what to expect, “That’s it, better out than in as they say. Now you may feel a bit anxious about that swelling, but it all seems very healthy to me, a clear sign of your body’s fitness and the vigour in your internal operations. Rest assured, I’ve seen this kind of stiff pink protuberance before, with all those sturdy blood vessels working hard. It’s just your natural and expressive response to your senses’ external stimuli. I might say it’s actually quite flattering for a woman in uniform to find herself cast as the one who provokes those stimuli in a healthy young man thus. But I’ve read from your notes that you’ve had a few problems with your lungs, so I imagine you’re in need of a little of our profession’s acclaimed tender loving care.”
“Aye, that sounds good,” Ben said cautiously. He’d been watching her progress, guiltily noticing how her dress gaped open as she leant forwards over him. Her breasts seemed loose and wobbly under the stiff white fabric. As he watched, he realised she had no bra on, though he could only make out her deep cleavage between the shifting soft curves and creases of her mole-spotted skin, despite his hopes of catching sight of her nipples down her gaping top. Though the way that he’d been peering at her was perhaps voyeuristic, he did not feel too ashamed of the thrill it gave him, knowing she was willingly playing the sexy role for him. He’d also glanced into the new mirror on the wall at the foot of the bed, trying to catch a glimpse of her from behind too as she knelt over him, but had struggled to see around Marcie’s looming body. Now that he’d wriggled his feet free of his pyjamas and Marcie had shuffled back up the bed, still on her knees, he made a move to prop himself up and reach towards her for a cuddle, and perhaps a peep over her shoulder into the mirror too.
She immediately leant over to push him back onto the pillow with her fingertips to his shoulder though, saying firmly, “No, don’t try to get up. Just lie back and relax now that we’ve got you undressed. I’ll let you know if I want you to move. I hope you’re not going to give me any trouble,” she added with mock sternness. But before Ben could reply, she slung her knee over his hips to straddle him and lifted his penis with both hands around its base, saying, “Hmm, this really does look very swollen. I can see now that it’s gone quite hard, and it feels rather hot. I wonder if it doesn’t need draining off after all, to relieve some of that pressure. I think you might feel a little relief if I were able to help you squeeze a good measure of fluid out, am I right?”
Ben had noticed the way that Marcie’s home-made dress had ridden up as she’d knelt across him. He’d been watching the exciting handspan of her thighs’ bare skin above the white lace band of her stockings, but then he was viscerally delighted to also see the point where her thighs met. It was immediately clear that she wasn’t wearing any knickers, as he’d glimpsed the pair of small furry curves with that subtle groove between them. He relished this glimpsed sight of the twin cushions of her outer labia, nestled in her dark pubic hair, just visible in the shadows beneath the hem of her dress as it was pulled taught and high on her hips by her parted legs. He also realised how close she’d brought her uncovered vulva to his penis, and his arousal had surged in response.
Now he was rigidly upright in her hands, his foreskin already rolled back so that his red glossy glans hovered between them. With Marcie’s appearance, her touch and her teasing words, he felt as if he were almost already able to comply with her play-acting in reality, ready to spurt out his semen with just a few twitches from her hand. Yet he wanted to stretch this exciting moment out for as long as possible, so he said in answer to her question, “You’re right nurse, but maybe not too soon.”
“I understand,” Marcie crooned sympathetically, “I didn’t mean to rush things and put a strain on your heart or your lungs. You’ve been such a big brave boy already with all the trouble you’ve been through. You can take just as long as you need with me here now. I’m here to care for you. Mummy’s got her precious birthday boy home now, safe and sound. Oh, my stupid mouth! Maybe you’d better come here and just give me a hug after all.”
Ben had been a little surprised at the weird turn that Marcie’s roleplay had seemed to take, but he knew her rich and colourful imagination well enough now to not be too alarmed by anything she said. He’d seen her cheeks flush red with a moment’s embarrassment though, and wanted to comfort her, so he gladly pushed himself up from the bed to wrap his arms around her ribcage. As he raised his knees for better balance, she dropped his penis to let it stand up on its own between her thighs, raising her hands to his head to push her fingers through his hair. She still rose above him though, firmly upright on her knees, so for once it was her who had to bend her neck down to kiss him.
Ben felt the slippery gloss of Marcie’s lipstick as her mouth brushed his with a sensitive delicacy, even as he was also distantly aware of her vulva hovering above his penis without contact. But then their mouths opened and their tongues were eagerly writhing together with mutual hunger and all-consuming passion. Marcie’s nails were raking the back of Ben’s scalp, giving him exquisite tingling sensations, whilst his hands caressed the bare skin of her neck and the top of her spine, and massaged her back through the thick cotton of her skilfully made dress.
Suddenly he had a powerful impulse to touch more of her naked skin beneath that dress, so he broke off their kiss to squeeze his hands between their chests, pushing his palms across her breasts to reach the top button of her playful outfit.
“Oh, Mister Osborne, you do know your own mind, don’t you?” Marcie said in character after a rapid gasp of air. She went on as he released the first button, “That’s it. They’re nice and easy for tired clumsy hands, aren’t they? I imagine you’re hunting for Nursie’s boobies. Well, they’re not hard to find, are they? Hmm, you’re nearly there now. Just undo one more button maybe, then you should be able to pop one out at least. There’s no need for me to get right out of my clean new uniform, I don’t think. That’s it, now put your mouth to my nipple and imagine the healing nutrition of my milk. Ooh, yes! Suck in that warm and creamy goodness, drink in your sweet medicine, my smooth elixir, let my breast’s expression of pure and tender loving care fill your mouth and your belly. You must be feeling your health rising from my soft bounty now. I feel it! I feel it almost oozing from me, warm and nourishing, rich and healing, slipping down your throat with silky ease, restoring your lungs, your body, making you glow from within! My sweet baby boy! Mummy’s special birthday boy, nuzzling at my abundant breast, nursing on my warm milk, suckling on my fatty flesh. Oh, Ben! Do I go too far?”
Ben had been glad to easily slip open some of the buttons down the front of Marcie’s dress as she knelt across him, revealing the long cleavage between her breasts, which seemed to be squeezed low in the handmade bodice. Ben was admiring the warm glow of Marcie’s mole-flecked tan skin against the white fabric as he’d reached her belt when she’d prompted him to stop and try lifting her breast out. He’d reverentially cupped one hand deep under the heavy curve, feeling the silky softness of her smooth skin on his rough palm and the textured edge of her areola against the edge of his thumb as he’d pushed the panel of her dress aside with his other hand. Then he’d felt a warm surge of intensified arousal as he’d seen her feminine fullness in his hand, the pattern of faint veins beneath her breast’s thin skin, the broad stretched circle of her dusky areola beneath his thumb, and the soft bump of her nipple. He’d eagerly followed her instruction to put his lips to her there, shuffling down a little to press his face firmly against her as she knelt upright above him. He’d then kissed and carefully sucked her while her words had flowed, playing with her nipple with his tongue and lips as it seemed to grow and firm up in his mouth. He was cautious of sucking too hard, recalling that soon after their first intense week together he’d given her a lovebite across the edge of her other areola. She’d said she’d not minded, but it had left her a little tender, and it just didn’t seem polite.
So in that moment, Ben had been gentle as he rhythmically drew the tip of Marcie’s breast into his mouth, sucking and teasing her whilst her words had rolled on above him in her crooning storybook way. He’d been aware that he was still powerfully aroused, his penis flopping against his belly with its engorged weight, yet he’d been content to enjoy the erotically charged thrill of the moment. When Marcie had mentioned an oozing flow coming from her body, he’d imagined the warmth of her vaginal juices rather than her imaginary milk, and he’d felt a sympathetic anticipation of his own orgasmic fluids rising through his penis.
In this dreamy arousal, Ben had not minded when Marcie had playfully slipped over into calling him her baby, recasting herself as a maternal character for her roleplay. But when she asked her anxious question, he broke off to raise his head and reassure her, “I love your words, you know. I love your creativity. I’d never confuse you with my mum really. You know that too. But you are the Holy Mother for me, the sky goddess of our private world,” he emphasised.
“Oh Ben, thank you,” Marcie said with a sweet smile, “And you’re my golden lion, my resurgent Sun God. But remember you’re my patient this morning and I’ve got to take care of you. I’m sorry my boob is dry really, when you can make your milky semen for me anytime, but I love how hard you seem to try to squeeze something from me anyway. You know it’s as much a turn-on for me as it is for you. But maybe I could get you to take a sip of restorative tea if I held it to your lips so that you could let that sweet liquid slip down your throat at least?”
Ben agreed with a smile, reclining on his elbows now as Marcie made a kind of shuffling march on her knees, up towards the head of the bed so that she could reach his mug. He’d caught a glimpse of her in the mirror now, and felt a guilty thrill to see her dress riding up over her buttocks, far above the tops of her stockings. He was excited by the sight of the crease that hid her anus, meeting the bare skin of her thighs. As she came higher up the bed across his torso, towering over his chest, she blocked his view, but he spread his arms wide, luxuriating in the sight of her indecent disarray. Her special dress was gaping open almost to her waist now, her breast hanging out and shuddering with her movement, her proud nipple and the fascinating textured skin around it glistening with his slimy saliva. And further down, above the thick lace band that gripped her stocking-tops around her toned thighs, the edge of her vulva was revealed beneath the hem of her dress, the delicious furry bumps and the crease between them appealing to Ben’s hunger in a way that made his mouth water, as if his sexual appetite had indeed got cross-wired with the oral gratification of filling his stomach.
Marcie had reached across him for his tea, letting her breast swing above his upturned face, and now she knelt upright over his chest again as she cupped the mug in both hands, smiling as she brought it to his lips while he reclined beneath her. “There you are, you poor thing,” she said, almost smirking in her joking playful tone, “Take a little of this tonic’s warm sweet goodness to help build your strength back up. We’ll have you up and about in no time, bursting with lively energy, busy as a beaver, if you let me take care of you.”
Ben gladly went along with her act, slurping the tea as she tipped the mug up a little, gazing up into her wide brown eyes beneath her scholarly glasses. It was still hot, but not too hot to take a big mouthful, and he saw the tip of her tongue touch her smudged lipstick as she concentrated on helping him to drink it up. But then Marcie wobbled or misjudged how far to raise it, and the tea spilled around his mouth, splashing onto his chest, where its heat was enough to make him twitch.
She lifted the mug away from his mouth promptly as they both laughed. “I’m sorry about that. Did that smart a bit, Mister Osborne?” Ben reassured her that he was fine, but she went on, “I’d say I didn’t want to hurt you, but maybe you know that a little pain can be a necessary part of the healing process, that a few pricks and tingles can actually help you feel much better in the end, making that satisfying relief come more quickly and with stronger intensity. But it seemed just a small drip got away there, and most things wash out with modern detergents. I’m sure neither of us would mind if there are a few more spills while you’re with me.”
Marcie had reached across Ben to put his mug down, then she’d picked up hers. As she took a big gulp for herself, Ben struggled to find his own words. He wanted to play along with her, whilst also saying what was on his mind, to tell her what he wanted to do for her right now. He wound up saying, “It was fine, and more spills are fine too. Pricks and tingles maybe good, if they pop up. But I was wondering, Nurse Tabone, might I try sipping something else, some of your other medicine, from somewhere more intimate?”
“Oh Ben, you mean going down on me, don’t me?” Marcie asked, suddenly seeming a bit taken aback. She explained, “But I’m meant to be giving you a treat this morning.”
“It’s no trouble,” Ben tried to reassure her, “It’s my pleasure really, you know that. Like you said, it’s just as much a turn-on me for me as for you. I was thinking, well, I’d just need to wriggle down a bit here, and we could do it like this, with you on your knees over me.”
“Yes, okay,” Marcie cautiously agreed as she took another sip of tea, looking down at Ben a little suspiciously over the edge of her mug, “As long as you’re sure you don’t mind. I might have to squeeze down a bit too. Well, to really put Vixen where you can get to her, I’d be squatting on your face.”
“That would be good. I’d like it like that,” Ben said, trying to give her more reassurance, even as he felt profoundly excited at the thought of such intimate contact. He’d remembered something else though, so he asked, “May I use your new toy too?”
He thought he saw Marcie’s cheeks actually blush a little as she shyly replied, “Well okay, if that’s really what you want and you don’t think it’s all too dirty, but it will need some gel on it.”
Ben was glad that she’d immediately understood what he’d meant. They’d taken a special trip to Ann Summers just last week, a few days after a leisurely evening in the flat together when Marcie had carefully introduced Ben to each of her old toys. To answer Ben’s curiosity, she’d explained how they worked, how effective they were, when she liked to use them, and even demonstrated a few, before they wound up making love with no more than Ben’s penis as Marcie gently rode him. But at the time, Ben had boldly remarked that he’d noticed she had nothing that was specifically for anal stimulation. Marcie had then cautiously come around to the idea that perhaps she could overcome her prejudice about any of that stuff by trying out something suitable.
At the time, Ben had made it as clear as he possibly could that he was not suggesting that he wanted anal sex with her. However, at the same time, a part of him had imagined that if she were more used to including her other hole in playful intimacy, then one day they might experiment with him penetrating her that way. It had already been clear to both of them that she liked her sphincter being touched when she was close to her orgasm, and Ben had reassured her then that he was very happy to help her enjoy those sensations. He even candidly explained that it was a powerful turn-on for him too when he was touching her vagina and her anus at the same time, when he felt those muscles squirm and flex in her arousal. He even admitted he was excited to see her butthole above her open cwm when she let him make love to her that way around. Marcie had learnt that he liked her touch on his anus too sometimes, but she had been content to accept he was not really interested in any penetration for himself, nor any attempt at direct stimulation to his prostate.
So they had planned a trip to the saucy shop in Eldon Square, then gone through with it, looking at what was available in the secretive back corner of the store together. Ben had been happy for Marcie to choose what looked like a string of spherical balls of increasing size moulded into a soft rod of rubbery silicone, then she’d sent him away to look at the dress-up costumes while she paid for it on her own, along with some special gel that turned out to be extra slippery. As he recalled her shy excitement in the shop, he thought now that maybe she’d had another unspoken plan, planting the seeds for a sexy roleplay experience in his mind at the same time. They’d only used these so-called beads once together since then, when Ben had helped Marcie simply masturbate to what had seemed to be a satisfactory climax. Marcie had wanted to vigorously clean them afterwards, but she’d said at the time that she’d enjoyed the experience and wanted to spend time getting used to them, to explore the stimuli that they could give her.
Now she took the lead in finding the toy for Ben to use, quickly draining her tea and leaning across him to put her mug down, then squatting down across him to bend over and reach into the drawer beneath the bed. Ben was excited to feel the soft warmth and rough tickle of her vulva coming down against his bare torso as he held her thick thighs in his hands, massaging up from the edge of her stockings across her smooth skin to her buttocks, feeling her powerful muscles straining to maintain her balance.
“Okay, where were we?” Marcie burbled on, making some attempt to find her role again as she found the toy then twisted back up to show it to him with the gel, “Now I’m trusting you with some specialist nursing equipment here, Mister Osborne. I won’t treat you to the indignity of a rectal thermometer, but you must know the principles. This little bulb needs to be nice and lubricated before we try popping it inside. And then, well, I’m sure you can use your judgement about how far to ease it in. I’ll try to let you know if you’ve found the right spot.”
Ben was aware that he was grinning like a fool as he reached up to take the items from her, saying, “I understand, nurse. I’ll try my best, picking the right moment too. I hope it won’t be too chilly.”
“I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” Marcie replied, looking down her nose at him with a seemingly sly appraisal, even as a twinkling smile played on her glossy lips, “It may even help the procedure. Now, were you going to shuffle down the bed for me so that we can get on with the task in hand?”
Ben agreed, then their conversation descended into half-spoken prompts and suggestions to coordinate their manoeuvring into position. Marcie seemed to anticipate what they needed to do as he tucked his arms in, briefly raising herself high onto her widely placed knees with her arm braced against the head of the bed, letting Ben wriggle down beneath her. Meanwhile he carefully placed the toy and its gel aside further down the mattress so that he could reach them easily later, then raised his hands to Marcie’s hips to push her immodestly short dress up higher as he luxuriated in her intimate presence. Her bushy vulva became fully revealed beneath its rucked-up hem, nestled in the black-brown hair of her pubic mound which hung immediately above his eagerly upturned face. He could clearly see the parted groove between the long cushions of her outer labia and the wrinkled skin of her inner lips buried between them, with the melanin-dark shading in their folds contrasting with the paler pink parting at the mouth of her vagina.
In his position, Ben’s head was below Marcie’s knees as she squatted over him, lowering her buttocks to her calves. He craned his neck towards her, and she seemed to anticipate his needs, helping him as he strained upwards by shoving a hastily grabbed pillow under his head. He relaxed against it as he saw her slip open the lowest button on her dress too, letting its fabric hang a little looser around her hips. Then she began rocking back and forth a little, perhaps to tease him, but more likely trying to fine-tune her position, to find just the right position, as her pudenda came closer to his mouth. Ben thought that Marcie’s head must be hanging down to see what she was doing, as he guessed she was leaning forwards onto her elbows now. However, all he could see of her was the magical furry triangle of her femininity, framed in the intersection of her creased stomach and her broad thighs, the lacey fringe of her white stockings dimpling them with their tight grip.
By tipping his head back and raising his chin just a little, Ben could now easily bring the lips of his mouth to Marcie’s far more intimate lips. He felt her soft hair tickle his nose as their velvety warmth brushed his sensitive skin with a seemingly dry delicacy. He deliberately inhaled deeply through flared nostrils as he nuzzled against her, savouring the soapy and slightly peppery scent of her clean skin, even though he was slightly disappointed to perceive only the faintest hint of her sexual parts’ musky body odour. With tender and devout care, he tenderly drew his widely stretched tongue across her lips, feeling for the parting that signified the rim of her vagina. Then, once he’d found the spot, he pushed a little harder with narrowed firmer pressure, sliding from side to side a little. He felt the folds of Marcie’s lips part for him as he gripped her hips, and to his delight he felt a slippery silken liquidity to the inner edge of her vagina’s mouth.
His own arousal was a distant sensation, a profoundly comforting warmth that flowed from his utterly assured erection, filling his being with deep satisfaction. Yet it was also a mere background detail to his far more important and absorbing awareness of Marcie’s precious Vixen, her pussy, her beaver, her muff, her snatch, her quim, her cunt, up against his face. The idea of this intimacy filled his mind, the strong words striking his mind like thunder, just as his senses were filled by the experience of her. His eyes were wide open, though all he could see was the thick dark curls of her pubic hair and the creased skin of her lower belly between her thighs, a few dark bumps of moles present even here. He was still breathing hard through his nose, and he could definitely detect the powerfully arousing intimate scent of her now, even as he tasted her vagina on his tongue. He could even hear the subtle sounds of her arousal. Her slow heavy breathing was somewhere above him, taking a measured pace as if she were concentrating on a physically demanding task that needed patience, whilst there were subtle wet slurping sounds much closer, coming directly from Marcie’s cwm, responding to but independent of his own lapping strokes.
Yet it was the physical sensation of their skin’s contact that really carried his attention, his tongue and lips working rhythmically against her inner intimate lips and the taut edge of her vagina, making a swampy mess all around her labia and his chin, which he guessed came in no small part from her aroused lubrication as well as his own saliva. He knew that the long lapping strokes of his broad tongue were steadily reaching higher, and he hoped that some of that slippery greasy goodness was rolling over her clitoris now too, as he was sure that he’d felt its firm raised bud between the rubbery folds her softly yielding lips.
He’d been resting his hands on her hips, stretched wide by her squatting position, though he’d not been thinking much of what to do with them. Now though, he began to systematically massage her buttocks, feeling the edge of the broad groove between them with his fingertips. As he kept diligently lapping at Marcie’s other smaller and fleshier groove, he tentatively quested deeper beneath her bottom with the fingers of his left hand, until he finally brushed the tight bud of her anus. After briefly massaging it too, he decided that it might be time to bring her toy into action.
Ben tipped his head back a little further and opened his mouth a little wider to make it easier for him to keep the steady rhythm strokes of his tongue’s stimulation going whilst he dropped his hands and groped for Marcie’s new beads and the gel. He was listening out for any change to Marcie’s heavy breathing, but he could still hear her puffing air steadily, as if through her clenched teeth, and guessed that she was still absorbed in the sensations which he was giving to her. He grasped the silicone rod and laid it on his stomach, not far from where his swollen penis rested, then with fumbling hands, he squirted a generous slug of gel along it. The cool liquid inevitably spilt across his bare skin too, but that only helped him to get the toy really greasy as he rolled it in the puddle he’d made.
He lifted the rod in his slippery left hand, its point aligned to his middle finger, then brought it between Marcie’s buttocks. Without hesitating, he squeezed its first bead against her anus with his fingertip, bracing his right hand against her at the very junction of her thighs, his middle fingertip on her perineum to help him blindly guide the toy into place. Then, as he made some effort to deliberately suck on her clitoris beneath his tongue, he pressed the first small sphere firmly against her.
It popped inside easily and he heard her gasp somewhere above him, bringing him delight as well as a warm surge of sympathetic arousal to think that his action had given her pleasure. He gave an experimental wiggle and twist on the toy, then pushed another bead in, and then a third. His greasy fingertips were on the edge of her sphincter, and he could feel the increasingly large balls pass as they slipped into her. He was trying to keep track of the number that he’d inserted, but he wanted to practice easing them out as well as in, so almost as soon as he’d squeezed the fourth ball in, he gently tugged on the toy and felt it pop back out again smoothly. Marcie gasped again at this, then began making a subtle keening noise with each of her breaths as he twizzled and played with the toy, even as he kept lapping and sucking at her clitoris.
Ben wondered if she might be closing in on her orgasm now as he continued with his face firmly planted to the swampy mess that they’d made around her vulva, still breathing in the potent scent of her through his nose where it was squashed against her furry pubic mound. So moving with some urgency, he pulled his right arm in tight and squeezed it between her thigh and his chest, bringing his hand to his chin and finding the lips of her vagina with his cleaner fingertips. He pressed his middle finger to her, discovering that it slipped inside her easily, so he took some care and patience to try pressing two fingers in, and then three, tucking his index and ring finger tight under his middle finger to squeeze them all past the firm muscles of her silky vaginal walls.
Meanwhile, he kept massaging the area around her clitoris with his mouth, feeling the folds of her labia as well as the nub of flesh between them rolling over his tongue as he gently sucked on them, without worrying about the occasional slurping noises that he inevitably made. Leaving the beads firmly embedded in Marcie’s anus for a moment, he also wiped up some of the puddle of gel that had spilt across his belly with his left hand, then rubbed the extra lubricant around the toy’s silicone shaft, massaging her taut sphincter muscles too, making her cry out faintly.
Now, with his fingers inside her and her clitoris in his suckling mouth, he eased the beads in and out of her again, going right to the end of the rubbery chain before drawing out all but the last two or three balls. He was unconcerned that there might be some faecal material on the toy now, just so long as he kept all contact with it separated from her vagina. He was just grateful to be so close and so intimate with Marcie, serving her sexual gratification in the most sincere and stimulating way that he possibly could.
The vocalisations that Marcie had been making with her ragged breath had been steadily increasing in volume, Ben had noticed, almost becoming cries of anguish. Now, as he groped against the inner wall of her cwm with his tightly bunched fingertips and slowly drew out the beads one more time, he felt the muscles of her vagina and anus giving a rolling spasm, crushing his fingers and making the whole chain of beads suddenly slip out. He’d guessed what was happening before he heard Marcie exclaim her habitual, “Qaddisa Marija! Aah!”
As Ben lapped his tongue eagerly against her vulva - sucking as much of her loosely folded skin into his mouth as he could, feeling the pressure of Marcie’s pelvis bearing down against him now - there was sudden surge of warm fluid that caught him by surprise. Most spilt across his cheeks and chin, but some filled his mouth too, and he reflexively swallowed. He was only vaguely aware of the liquid’s faint salty taste, which was also slightly bitter, almost like a very thin but pleasantly heated cabbage soup. What he felt far more intensely was a powerful sympathetic yearning for his own ejaculation. Even though they’d been ignoring his stimulation, at that moment his orgasm felt so close that it seemed as if his twitching penis could have spontaneously squirted its gift right across the bedsheets, or across Marcie’s backside and the tangled disarray of her dress, and he would have been profoundly glad if it had.
After her initial loud exclamation, he’d heard Marcie almost whisper the phrase, “Ooh, itlob għalina midinbin!” Then the tension seemed to drain from her body.
Ben recognised the phrase as he pushed his head back into the pillow and withdrew his fingers, knowing that Marcie wouldn’t want any more stimulation now. He echoed its translation in a low reverential tone, “Pray for us sinners indeed,” then continued the prayer that he’d newly learnt, “Now, and at the hour of our death.”