A Guest of Celeste: the rest

With one last gasp, Celeste pulled Bruce into her writhing body. Her toes curled inward as her legs gripped the backs of Bruce’s thighs. She shook rapidly two or three times, then paused and shook again, her head thrown back, keening unintelligibly.

The storm passed as suddenly as it had come. Celeste laid her head on Bruce’s shoulder and waited for her breathing to slow down. After a moment, she opened one eye and grinned at Amy and me, still transfixed. “And that’s how that’s done, honeys,” she said. “Did you get some good notes, or do we have to show you again?”

“Well, I got something,” Amy said. “But mostly I got this,” and she rose to hand Celeste the drawing.

“Well, isn’t that something,” Celeste said. She held the paper out where Bruce could see it. He nodded. “Multiple talents — a good thing in a writer,” he said approvingly.

Celeste put her hands on Bruce’s chest, and he disengaged himself and stepped back. She jumped down from the countertop. “OK,” she said, all business again. “Let me just duck into the bathroom to clean up a bit, and then we’ll proceed.”

Celeste led Bruce out of the room, and Amy and I sat in silence for a few minutes. I held Amy’s drawing and stared at it. It was beautiful. Down the hall a shower began to run, and we heard more giggling.

It took only about ten minutes for Celeste and Bruce to return to the kitchen. Celeste took charge right away. “For our next point, Amy, I need you to climb up and sit on the table. Bruce, would you take a seat?” Amy hoisted herself up onto the table while Bruce straddled a chair facing her.

Celeste and Bruce seemed to have discussed this earlier, because Celeste just said, “Bruce?” He nodded at her with a smile and picked up Amy’s ankle and brought it to his mouth for a long kiss. Then his tongue began roaming up her calf. When he stopped to nuzzle the back of her knee, a little “Mmph” sound escaped from Celeste. I looked over and caught her staring dreamily at the two of them.

In another moment, Bruce’s head was hidden under the hem of Amy’s long skirt. I couldn’t stop myself from staring at her face. Her eyes met mine, and she smiled uncertainly. “Pull it up for me?” she whispered. I drew the cloth up toward her waist, exposing her long, smooth thighs and Bruce, who had almost reached their junction.

Amy quickly lifted herself off the tabletop and sat back down, and in a moment she was wearing no underwear. She had thrown her weight back on her hands, out behind her, and her knees were spread far apart as if to welcome Bruce home. One of her feet was wedged under Bruce’s butt and the other was thrown on another chair three feet away. I could only stare at her face -it seemed to fill the whole room with an aura of contentment, and all the man was doing was kissing her long legs. Her eyes were closed, and she breathed an occasional “Ahhhh.”

Suddenly she gave a sharp intake of breath, and her face tightened. Her hands folded into fists on the table. I looked down sharply., Bruce’s tongue had reached out to touch Amy’s clitoris, which was protruding ever so slightly from her moistened pussy lips. I saw his tongue lash out again, and a few more times, and suddenly Amy was holding him by the back of the head and pulling him into her. Her head dropped to her chest and she began to pant alarmingly, her eyes still closed. I watched as her bare bottom, moving hypnotically, edged one of the coffee mugs along the table top until it fell to the floor with a crash.

That snapped Celeste out of her reverie. “All right, enough,” she said cheerfully. “Amy. Amy?” Bruce’s eyes were open now and he had stopped sucking, but Amy was holding his head so tightly he couldn’t go anywhere.

Gradually she released him. With a sheepish look at me and Celeste, she patted her hair back into place, sort of, and began to climb down off the table.

“No, stay there,” Celeste ordered. “Are you OK?”

“Yeah, but why did you stop him? I was just about to, uh, you know…” Amy faltered.

“Oh, there’ll be time for that,” Celeste replied. “For now, tell me this: can you describe what Bruce was doing to you?”

“Well, you saw. He was, you know… licking my pussy,” Amy admitted.

“No, I mean the feeling. How would you describe it?”

Amy remembered. “Oh yeah. Writing lesson. Well, now that I think about it, his tongue is a little bumpy, too. It was almost like a kitty licking me. And the way he worked his way up my legs so slowly, that was just heavenly.”

“Hmm,” Celeste said, scribbling on Amy’s manuscript. “Kitty… heavenly… OK. We’re getting at some stronger descriptive terms here, aren’t we?” Amy nodded.

“Now can we –”

Celeste held up a finger. “Ted, will you have a seat?” she asked me.

I think Amy and I both figured out what was next at the same moment. We looked at each other, and she quickly slipped off the table and wriggled her hips. Her long skirt dropped to the floor, and she was nude from the waist down. Then she tossed her buttocks back up on the table, placed a foot on each of the two chairs, and gave me an expectant half-smile.

I sat down between Amy’s legs and looked my gift-horse in the mouth, so to speak. Then I changed my mind. Maybe I was a guest of Celeste (or whoever this remarkable woman was), but that didn’t mean I had to follow her every direction to the letter. I got up again. I offered Amy my hand. With a doubtful look, she took it and rose. I guided her onto her hands and knees on the tabletop, then took my assigned position again. My lips grazed the cleft of her ass, then I let my tongue flick out and lick deep between her cheeks. I heard a gasp, but it might have been Celeste.

I tried to keep caressing her inner thighs with my hands, but it was hard to keep my mind on it with these lovely upturned haunches squirming in my face. So I just took a firm hold on her legs and let my tongue do its thing, up and down her crease. Sometimes it seems to go into automatic, and I’ve learned to just let it go.

After a few moments of that, I sat down. Amy’s pussy hovered before me, wet and inviting. I took a tentative lick or two, savoring the salty, faintly metallic effect on my tongue, and then I delved in, seeking to taste her as deeply as I could. Amy’s body began to shake and I heard her moaning, “uhhh, uhhhmmm…” I was losing myself in her multiple flavors.

I don’t know how long this went on, but suddenly Celeste was pulling me back by the shoulders. “That’s all we need for now, kids,” she said. “Let’s try to get back on track here.”

Amy fell to her tummy on the table and cradled her head in her arms. “Ohhh, so close,” she sighed. Celeste, pen in hand, sat down at the end of the table where Amy’s head lay. “Anything different there?” she asked.

“Well…” Amy mused. “His tongue is smoother, silkier. It may be longer, too — I felt him deeper inside me than Bruce.” I felt myself blushing at the compliment. “I felt almost like there was a light coming toward me in a tunnel,” Amy continued. “You know? Like an orgasm was just starting to appear…” She fell silent as Celeste wrote on the manuscript.

“Well, there was something in a tunnel, but it wasn’t a light,” Bruce chortled. Amy shot him a wounded look. Celeste laughed. “Now now, Bruce. Nobody likes a pun war, so hold your tongue. Oops.” Now everyone was laughing.

Celeste finally got up. “Look at the time,” she said brightly. “Better move on to the next phase in our studies, lest we be late for lunch.” Amy, still only half-dressed, looked at her pitifully. “But…” she began.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Celeste laughed. “A little too far along to stop now, are you, my dear?” Amy nodded. “Well, we started a little out of order,” Celeste said. “No harm in being flexible. Bruce, would you like to help Amy out?” Bruce nodded eagerly and moved to the foot of the table as Amy, eyes bright, sat down in front of him. Bruce began his leisurely attention to Amy’s calves again, but she wasn’t having it. “Oh, skip that,” she groaned. “Just eat me, will you?”

Bruce looked up and smiled, then nudged Amy’s knees aside with his shoulders and dived into her vulva like it was a hearty entree. Amy’s thighs immediately clamped themselves around Bruce’s head. After a few seconds she let herself fall back slowly onto the table, where she lay with her eyes closed, letting out little cries and moans.

Celeste, facing me across the table over Amy’s head, reached over and took hold of me by the back of the neck. Gently she pressed me downward until my cheek rested on Amy’s sweater. I got the idea. My hand reached out and lifted the hem of her sweater toward me, until it was bunched around her chest. Under the sweater she was wearing a white shorty T-shirt, the kind that have been so popular lately. I slowly raised that too. Her apple-sized breasts were heaving as I took an experimental lick at one nipple, and she gasped and reached out to hold my face against her. “Ohhh… that’s it,” she breathed. “Lick me right th–”

She was cut off in mid-sentence. Without moving, I glanced to my right. Celeste had covered Amy’s mouth with her own and locked her in a deep kiss. I watched, hypnotized, as the two women’s tongues grappled in each other’s mouth.

Celeste was the first to come up for air. She gently pushed Amy’s head to the side and began tonguing her ear and nibbling at the lobe. “Is that what you like, girl? Is that it?” She whispered urgently. “Mmmm. Mmmm. Uhhhh!” was all Amy could say. Her hips were writhing so hard now I worried for the health of Bruce’s spine. Now Celeste was planting little kisses and nibbles all over Amy’s face and neck, and I just kept licking and kissing her nipples and the soft, sensitive undersides of her breasts, and let my left hand play with her belly button and brush through the curly wisps of hair below, near Bruce’s rapt face.

I don’t need to tell you that after all this buildup, it would have been a letdown if Amy hadn’t proceeded to come like a train wreck. She did. Without warning, her whole body went tense. She grabbed my neck and pulled me into her chest, while with her other arm she held onto Celeste for dear life. Her hips took a jump off the table that sent a wave along her body like a whip. It happened again. And again. I saw her knuckles go white where she was gripping the edge of the table. Then she drew a deep, quick breath through her mouth and let out a yell that I immediately realized I would never be able to transcribe. It was like the “Awwwoooo” that a wolf makes in the wild, but thicker, full of exultation. It started in a low alto range and went up until she was a coloratura soprano, and held there, and held -then broke and skittered downward in a series of moaning yelps, each softer than the last.

Celeste and I just sat there for a few moments, sort of paying homage to the event, I guess, as Amy caught her breath. She was whimpering weakly, eyes still closed, mouth hanging open, and her hand, which had been hanging limp off the table, came up to wipe the sweat off her forehead. “Are you with us, Amy?” Celeste murmured. Amy nodded. She reached down to push away Bruce, who had been busy licking up the last of the evidence off her inner thighs.

Gradually Amy pulled herself upright and climbed down off the table. I got up to get a glass of water at the sink. Celeste rose and gave Amy a quick hug. “Can you handle one more lesson before lunch, dear?” she asked. “Or shall we call it a morning?”

Amy looked at me, then she looked at Bruce. I tried to look noncommittal, but it was hard to ignore the boner that the previous “lessons” had left me with. It was cantilevered out before me like the arrow of a compass, pointing at what I knew I wanted.

Amy gave me a slow grin, then reached down to pull her sweater over her head. Her T-shirt followed, and as her breasts bounced free, her bare body seemed to gather an aura in the bright sunlight from the window. Oh, great, I thought. Now my erection was in complete control of me. It was one of those you only have a few times in a year — the kind that feels like it’s pulling all the blood from your body into it, like it’s stretching your skin so hard your toes curl upwards and your chin drops.

Amy padded across the floor to me and laid a hand on my chest. Taking my cock in her other hand, she looked at Celeste. “Does it involve more audio-visual aids?” she asked shyly. Celeste nodded.

“If you boys will sit up the table again, we’ll just get going,” Celeste instructed. Bruce and I took our places next to each other, and Celeste helped Amy into a chair in front of Bruce.

“One of the weakest areas of most people’s stories comes when they describe this part,” Celeste said. “Amy, let’s see if you can get a response from Bruce first.”

Amy licked her lips and dipped her head to Bruce’s lap. His cock disappeared into her mouth like an animal entering its lair, and I watched her cheeks begin to work him as her hand came up to stroke his balls and the base of his thick rod. Celeste stood behind Amy with her hands on the younger woman’s shoulders. “Not too enthusiastically, dear,” she cautioned. “Let’s not make him come yet.” I have to say I liked hearing the word “yet.” My balls were so tight they were almost in pain, and the head of my dick seemed to be straining toward Amy’s face of its own accord.

At a nudge from Celeste, Amy pulled back. A thick drop of pre-come appeared at the end of Bruce’s dick. Amy looked up at Celeste, who nodded approvingly. She leaned back in and licked it up, and did the same with the next drop.

“Well, any words come to mind?” Celeste asked. Amy nodded thoughtfully. “A little tangy,” she allowed. “A touch of sweatiness, but I think that was there before. And the texture is very… clear. Like a bottled water, compared with tap water, let’s say.” Celeste reached out to scribble more notes.

Amy, without waiting for Celeste’s prompting, shifted over my way. With a smiling glance into my eyes, she bent to take my cock into her mouth once again. There was nothing exploratory about her this time. Her lips clamped my shaft in place while her tongue attacked the underside of the head like a jackhammer.

It wasn’t thirty seconds before I felt my own pre-come beginning to flow, and knew I was going over the edge. With what seemed right then like an enormous effort of will, I gently pushed Amy’s determinedly sucking face away. Slowly she relinquished me, then sat back and looked up at Celeste. “You were right!” she reported excitedly. “It’s so different! His is a little less salty — it tastes more, I don’t know, sweet?”

“Well, that would be unusual,” Celeste replied. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, and the texture is thicker, smoother,” Amy said. “It sits on your tongue a little, like anisette.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” Celeste laughed. “Is it anything like Bailey’s?” Amy thought for a moment, looking a little confused.

“Let me see,” Celeste said suddenly. She helped Amy out of the chair and sat down in her place, took hold of my rock-hard cock with one hand and leaned her head on the other, her elbow propped on my knee. “Hmmm,” she observed. “Doesn’t look so out of the ordinary. Except that it’s” — here she pantomimed knocking on it with her knuckles — “about as hard as it’s ever been, eh?” And she smiled up at me. I nodded helplessly and closed my eyes. Will I ever get this erection tended to? I thought in despair.

Suddenly I felt an indescribably welcome warmth envelop the head of my long-suffering member. Couldn’t be, I told myself. I’ve had blow jobs before — was just having one a minute ago, in fact — but it never felt this good. Slowly, relentlessly, the cottony-soft feeling advanced up the length of my shaft, until I thought my balls themselves might get drawn into this warm, gentle inferno. Then it receded, and the almost painfully engorged head of my pole felt like it was going to melt, like an M&M — you know, in your mouth, not in your hand.

There has to be a trick, I kept thinking. I didn’t want to open my eyes and look at what was going on, for fear that I’d see some infernal contraption Celeste had been keeping in the basement, something she had rigged up out of vacuum cleaner parts and leather straps and hot terry towels. Something out of a Deidre story.

Not the least of my concerns was, if it felt this good, how would I ever go back to just plain old oral sex? Giving it and getting it had been central to my idea of pleasure for so many years; I’d hate for it to lose its shine.

But I had to look, of course. Slowly I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was Amy and Bruce staring at me, their eyes twinkling. Nothing too scary there. Bruce, grinning, flashed me a thumbs-up sign. Slowly, I looked down.

Celeste had swallowed my cock almost to its root. Her upper arms resting on my thighs, her hands were holding her hair back and out of the way. She let me slide slowly out of her mouth, and then took me in again, and I thought this time I went even deeper. She was savoring me, swaying a bit side to side, and sort of humming. She wasn’t even applying any suction to speak of — just holding me, bathing me, letting me acclimate to the soft grip of her lips and the cushion of her satin tongue, smiling to herself, off in her own world somewhere. I closed my eyes again, threw my head back and just basked in the glow.

Before long I felt a pair of hands stroking my chest. Amy’s arms were around me from behind, and she was feeling my hard nipples with one hand and running the nails of the other through my pubic hair. With a grunt, she gripped me tight and climbed up behind me so she was kneeling on the tabletop, her knees on either side of my thighs, her bottom resting on her ankles, her breasts and her belly pressing into my back. She nuzzled at my neck and my cheekbones the way Celeste had done to her just minutes ago, and whispered in my ear between little licks, “Are you there yet? Are you going to come for us?”

I couldn’t even nod, for fear that the motion would set me off. For all that I wanted to come, needed to come, I wanted just as badly to make it last. Celeste hummed to herself happily. She was so clearly enjoying this, I wanted to let it go as long as I could for her. I kept trying to empty my mind, but even when I closed my eyes, the image of this gloriously pretty woman sitting before me, my cock planted deep in her welcoming mouth, kept imposing itself on my imagination.

When Amy shifted against me, and I heard her sudden soft gasp, I knew somehow what was happening. I felt her lifting her hips just a bit off the table, and I heard the squishy sound of Bruce’s fingers gently feeling between her legs for the signal to enter. Her breath tickled my ear as she whispered, “Yes, Bruce, please…” she breathed.

“Yes what?” he asked innocently.

“Yes, get yourself inside me right now!” she ordered him.

I felt the added warmth from his body as he stepped up to the cleft of Amy’s ass, hanging almost off the narrow table, and fitted his thick organ into her from behind. As he slid slowly into her, Amy stiffened and began to move back and forth with him, while her hands, seemingly on their own now, went on exploring my body. She reached under my scrotum and scratched me lightly with her fingernails, then reached out and stroked Celeste’s hollowed cheek.

This must have gone on for ten minutes. I was past the point of even trying to control myself, leaving it to Celeste to decide my fate. Celeste had just begun to suck a bit harder on me, pulling softly with every withdrawal from her mouth, when Amy’s breathing began to speed up and she squeezed my chest a little tighter with every thrust from Bruce. She began to whimper and moan a bit, and then she drew a deep breath and wailed, almost as if it were something tragic, “Oh, Bruce, I think… I’m gonna come!”

Amy was bucking now, bumping me forward and back, her tits pressing into me from behind. Bruce stood there and held her, his arms around her belly, and her arms took an almost painfully firm grip around my shoulders. The noise she was making roused Celeste from her hypnotic state, and she let my cock slip from her mouth to look up at Amy’s face with a big grin. “You go, girl,” she exclaimed, holding my stiff pole in her hand. “Let it all out now!”

That was the end of my rope. With Amy jerking and wriggling against my back, my own orgasm overtook me. Suddenly I was one of those brown dwarf stars, collapsing to a single infinitesimal point of infinite pressure and then exploding outward until I seemed to fill the whole universe. My whole body shivered like an epileptic, shaking apart around the still, small center that was Celeste’s two hands holding me still against her warm skin. Through half-opened eyes I saw her startled expression as the pale fluid leapt from my cock and splashed against her chin and ran down her neck, then spurt again, and then again, and again.

Her look of surprise turned slowly into a sunny smile as I came down from my explosion. “What do you know, Ted,” she declared with a giggle. “That was exactly the way it happened in that bit you wrote about me.”

“Hmmm?” I asked spacily.

Celeste scooped up a glob of my sperm from her chest with one finger and held it up for me to see. “‘Spurt after white spurt splashes against her neck and her chin,'” she recited, “‘as Bruce pumps into her from beneath and she grips us both just as tight as she can.’ That’s what you wrote, if I’m not mistaken.” She grinned at me again as she wiped the thick fluid off on my thigh. “What a coincidence, eh?”

I looked at her sharply. The review of my little opus had been positive enough, but I hadn’t suspected that she’d read it so carefully as to quote it word for word. “Do I take it that memorization is the sincerest form of flattery?” I asked.

“No,” she smiled regally. “This… is the sincerest form of flattery,” and she bent again to take the head of my now totally deflated penis between her lips. I could only nod in exhausted agreement.

Amy undraped herself from my body and Bruce helped her climb slowly down off the table. “Wow. My knees are pretty shaky,” she observed. Celeste rose and came around to take her other arm. “Yeah, sorry about that,” she said. “I really meant to do all this in that nice carpeted bedroom down the hall, but once we got under way it seemed uncivilized to stop.”

Now, in any self-respecting piece of pornography, we would all have gone on screwing madly the rest of the afternoon. This being real life, though, every one of us was bone-tired (so to speak) and needed a rest. Celeste, ever the realist, was the first to recognize it. She proposed making some sandwiches and driving over to the miniature golf course to goof off for a while, which sounded to me like a nice way to recover, even though I’m hopeless at miniature golf. After that, she said, we’d have some dinner, turn in early and get some sleep, because there was another lesson plan to cover tomorrow.

“And hey, let’s all make sure we sleep alone, OK?” she cautioned us all, her eyes twinkling. “It’d be a shame to use up our supplies of, ah, libido before we need them again,” she said with what I thought was a glance at my midsection. The way my own equipment was feeling, I didn’t think that would be any problem.

Well, I may tell you about the rest of the weekend later, if I get the time. I know most people are not going to believe that any of this happened. The coincidences are just too weird. (And it’s true that it never happened to anyone named Bruce, Amy or Ted, because I’ve changed all those names.)

What people believe isn’t important, though, because I’ve got my mental movie of that eventful weekend, and that’s all that matters. That and the piece of paper I keep tucked away in a book on a high shelf in my office, where I take it down and admire it every time I’m tempted to doubt my own memory. It’s the pen-and-ink drawing Amy made of Celeste’s face in the midst of an explosive orgasm. Her eyes are squinched half-shut, her mouth is open, her hair is flying every which way, and she is looking at the sky like a saint in the throes of religious ecstasy. It’s a vision I shall never forget.