Margaret and Irene

Christ, I'd never felt so turned on! I felt ten-feet tall as I contemplated the scene on Margaret's bed: one sexy old lady sucking me off and the other kissing me. But Irene wasn't kissing me now. She raised herself on one elbow and cupped one of her breasts, offering me the nipple. 'Would you like to suckle me?' she asked. I took the big rubbery nub in my mouth and licked it and sucked on it and Irene breathed in my ear: 'Yes, that's good,' and I recalled what Margaret had done and I bit down on it gently and I felt Irene's nails dig into the flesh of my chest as she breathed 'Yes!' into my ear. 'Yes, Toby, darling, harder. Bite me harder!' So I bit as hard as I dared and she writhed in my arms and I reached around and cupped her buttocks in my hands and squeezed them, feeling her arse crack under my fingers and further down Margaret was stroking my shaft and cupping my balls and sucking the head of my penis with a liquid squelching noise. 'Kiss me again,' gasped Irene and our mouths came together again and I ran my hands down her back feeling the swell of her buttocks.

Eventually I was aware of coldness on my glans as Margaret withdrew her head. I didn't stop kissing Irene but out of the corner of my eye I could see Margaret rise up and straddle me. I felt her hand on my cock, guiding it to her slit, and I felt her rub the tip up and down her labia until I thought I would burst with desire. Then it was in and Margaret was sliding down my shaft, taking my full six or seven inches and she felt wonderful. Not slack as I imagined an old lady would feel but tight, like a twenty-year-old, her muscles gripping me as she started to thrust her hips backwards and forwards, rubbing her clitoris against my pubic bone, her hands on my chest. I started thrusting my hips up to meet her motions and she slowed down, her face slack with desire, her eyes open but unseeing.

Irene broke our kiss, her face red, her lips swollen with passion. 'Would you lick me please, Toby?' Without waiting for a reply she knelt up and straddled my face, her thick, black bush inches from my mouth. This close up I could see the effects that time had wrought on the skin of her stomach and upper thighs but to me she was gorgeous, her thick bush wet with sweat and vaginal secretions, the labia full and pinky brown. Her scent was enchanting: a fresh, citrus tang of shower gel with an underlying darker, meaty, musky smell, much stronger than Margaret's. I lifted my head and buried my face in her snatch, tasting her juices and inhaling her scent, her hair tickling my cheeks. I put my hands on her bum and forced her cunt into my face, licking and probing as she rode my face, mashing her cunt lips against my mouth and making little mewling sounds.

I was wondering how long I could last inside Margaret when, perhaps at some pre-arranged signal, they swapped over. I felt Margaret dismount and then Irene and then they changed positions. Or rather Irene did; Margaret waited, I think to let me see her friend mount me, which was thoughtful. Irene swung a leg over my torso and took my cock in a firm grip. She smiled at me as she lowered herself onto me and my cock sank into the depths of her vagina. She was soaking wet from my saliva and her own lubrication and she wasn't as tight as Margaret -- more how I imagined an old lady to feel. But somehow it was just as good, just as erotic, perhaps because I found Irene intrinsically more attractive than Margaret. Once fully inserted, Irene started a leisurely backwards and forwards motion as her friend had done. It felt wonderful, her sopping twat sliding over my soaking groin. But I was also aware that I probably wouldn't reach an orgasm in that position and inside Irene's slacker cunt. Meanwhile, Margaret was positioning herself above my face, her smooth vulva inches from my mouth. As with Irene, Margaret's age was more noticeable this close up in the faint wrinkles and stretch marks on her upper thighs and stomach. I raised my head and licked her slowly from her perineum to her clitoris and she sighed and pressed herself to my face and I lapped up her juices and slid my tongue into her vagina and suckled on her little clit in its protective hood, my hands pulling her bum cheeks apart, one finger tracing her arse crack. Her scent was lighter than her friend's, less exotic, but I still loved her clean odour and the salty taste of her secretions.

The ladies pleasured themselves on my cock and mouth for long minutes, changing over at intervals. I was in a haze of sexual ecstasy; I had no idea what the time was although in the periphery of my mind it did seem to be getting darker in the bedroom. The ladies seemed to have infinite stamina and I was profoundly amazed by their enthusiasm and obvious enjoyment of our extended sex session. Although it was by no means over.

Eventually, with Margaret on my face again and Irene on my cock, Irene spoke; apart from grunts and groans it was the first thing anyone had said for a long time: 'I think it's about time Toby had some release. What do you think, Margaret?'

'Give me two minutes,' she said, tightly, as my tongue flicked over her swollen clit. She thrust her hips forward so that my tongue slid over her perineum and ended up wedged in her arse crack and I was all but smothered by her bum cheeks. I'd never tried anilingus before, it had never really appealed to me, especially with an older anus! But here I was with one pressed to my mouth and in a state of intense sexual arousal; it would have been churlish not to respond. So I mashed my tongue against her rosebud and was surprised to find that it wasn't an unpleasant sensation or taste, quite the reverse. It smacked very much of the forbidden fruit. I pushed my tongue into her little knotted sphincter as deep as I could get it and Margaret gasped and I was aware that she was masturbating herself with sharp, fast motions of her hand; I could feel the vibrations and hear the liquid noises as she strummed her clitoris with urgent speed. A minute later I felt her shudder to a climax and she practically fell off me and sprawled on her back.

Irene dismounted more slowly and lay down beside me. 'I'm exhausted,' said Margaret. 'She's all yours now, Toby. Fill her up with your hot spunk!'

I looked at Irene and she smiled her gentle smile and opened her arms and I rolled over on top of her and she opened her legs wide for me and I grasped my aching cock and guided it to her slit and pushed it in to the hilt. She looked up at me, her eyes wide as I penetrated her and I felt her legs hook over the back of mine and I started fucking her with long, slow strokes, leaning down to kiss her lips, her glossy lipstick smeared all around her mouth, giving her a wanton look. 'Take me as hard as you want,' she said and I started thrusting in and out, ramming my cock in and out of her cunt hole, feeling the sensations start to build up in my testicles and creep up my spine. By my side, Margaret had got up on her knees and was watching us fuck, one of her thin hands on my back, urging me to go faster. As my orgasm approached I felt her hand slide down over my buttocks and into the crack of my arse, a single finger seeking my anus, probing the tip in. I wanted to cry: 'Dirty bitch,' as Irene had done but my orgasm was on me.

'I'm coming,' I gasped, and I felt a thrilling shock as Margaret slid her finger right into my butt hole and the fireworks started going off in my head and I was pumping spunk into Irene's sopping cunt and waves of pleasure were crashing around me. I was dimly aware that Irene was wailing and tears were running down her powdered cheeks and my orgasm, so powerful after the long build-up, was subsiding and the world, the bedroom, was coming back into focus.

I fell off Irene and lay immobile on the bed. On one side of me Irene snuggled up and I put my arm around her. On the other side Margaret did the same and the three of us lay there in post-coital bliss, saying nothing, not moving, just replaying, in my case at least, the events of the last hour, our bodies warm against each other.

At length Margaret stirred and sat up. 'I didn't ask, Toby, but would you like to stay and have dinner with us?' It seemed a curiously prosaic question after the intensity of our lovemaking.

'That would be lovely, thank you,' I replied, equally prosaically.

'I'd better go and get it started.' She climbed off the bed and pulled a black silk dressing gown on before disappearing through the bedroom doorway. I could hear her in the bathroom and then the sound of her going downstairs. Irene and I lay still for another couple of minutes, then she reached up and stroked my cheek, as she'd done before. It seemed to me to be a gesture of pure affection.

'Thank you, Toby, you've made two old ladies very happy this afternoon.'

'Thank you,' I replied. 'It's been...' I struggled for the right word, 'amazing, bloody fantastic, I can't really describe it.'

'Well a bit of flattery goes a long way with us old dears.'

'It's not flattery,' I said firmly, 'it's,' I paused marshalling my thoughts. 'I think it's the best sex I've ever had.'

'Really?'

'Really.'

Irene reached out to stroke my face again and I took her hand and kissed it and sucked one of her fingertips into my mouth. 'Oh God,' she said, 'if only I were forty years younger. I'd have done anything for a bloke like you.' I blushed in the gloom. 'Not that you'd have been interested in me.'

'Why wouldn't I have been?' I asked.

'Because you're a middle-class, university educated young man with a career ahead of you and I was a working-class lass from a back-to-back terrace in the middle of Sheffield with a local accent and terrible grammar who left school at sixteen and worked in the canteen at the local council.'

'Nothing wrong with your grammar,' I protested.

'That's because I've been friends with Margaret for thirty-five years. Listening to her has taught me how to speak proper.' We laughed and I hugged her close. 'Margaret would have been more your type: private school education, plummy accent.'

'And she's a dirty bitch,' I said, teasingly.

'You don't know the half of it.' Irene raised herself on one elbow and looked at me. 'It's not a complete coincidence that Margaret's gone to do dinner. It was part of our little plan.'

I was intrigued. 'Go on.'

There was a pause as Irene looked away then back at me. 'Margaret's got a bit of a thing about anal sex.'

I felt my stomach flip over. I hadn't been expecting that. 'And she wants to do it with me?'

'Yes. She said she'd be too embarrassed to bring it up directly so she asked me if I'd ask you. So that's why she's faffing about in the kitchen and we're up here. Would you? Have you done it before?'

'I have. I had a girlfriend in the last year at Uni. She was a post-graduate student, a few years older than me, and she liked to experiment. So we tried anal sex and we both liked it and we did some other stuff like bondage and spanking and I think she'd have gone even further but just after graduation she dumped me for her tutor and that was that.'

'I'm sorry.'

'Yes, I was a bit upset. So I went back home with a good degree and no girlfriend, feeling sorry for myself but looking forward to going round the world. Then my dad says because his company's going through a bit of a rocky patch he can't give me the ten grand he'd promised so I end up working at the garden centre for six months so I can salvage something from my gap year.'

'And then you met us.'

'And then I met you,' I agreed and I reached up and kissed her and slid my tongue into her mouth.

'Have you ever had anal sex?' I asked, curious.

'No, not me. I've never fancied it. Though Margaret does like to stick the odd finger up my arse when she's licking me out, as you may have noticed, and I must say it does make my orgasms very strong. But no, I've never had anything bigger up there.'

'Just to be clear,' I asked, 'is she expecting us to you know... do it today, this evening?'

'If that's ok with you.'

'And would you be there too?'

'Yes. Look Toby, I know this all sounds a bit weird but Margaret's got this thing that she wants to have cunnilingus performed on her while she's having anal sex. It's one of the reasons, the main reason really, that we talked about having a threesome.'

'When exactly was this?' I asked.

'When was what?'

'When did you start talking about a threesome?'

'Oh quite a long time ago. Two years maybe.'

'Am I the first?'

'Of course.'

'So why has it taken so long?'

'Because it's taken that long to find somebody we both fancied enough to risk making them a proposition. Satisfied?'

'Satisfied.' We lay quietly for a minute or two. Downstairs there was the faint sound of dishes clacking together and the bleep of a microwave oven. 'Do you think I should go down and say something to Margaret?' I asked. 'Sort of put her mind to rest.'

'I think that would be very kind, Toby. Put that bathrobe on. It's mine so it won't be that small on you.'

I went down the stairs barefoot, Irene's towelling bathrobe wrapped around my nakedness. The kitchen was warm and steamy and the radio was playing softly, something classical. Irene was standing at the sink, peeling potatoes; I went up behind her and put my arms around her and kissed her neck and she leaned back into me. 'Hello Toby.'

'Hi. Irene's had a chat with me and I'm fine with anything you want to do.' As if to underline this I cupped her small breasts through the silk of her dressing gown, feeling the nipples stiffen in my palms.

'Oh God, I'm so embarrassed. You must think I'm awful.'

'Not at all,' I said, nibbling her ear. 'It's a big turn on for me and I think it is for Irene too.'

'Do you think so?'

'Absolutely. When's dinner?'

'I've only just put the casserole in. It'll be another two hours.'

I squeezed her nipples between finger and thumb and felt her legs wobble. 'That's perfect. Shall we go back upstairs?' She dropped the potato she was peeling into the sink and allowed me to take her hand and lead her towards the stairs.

'I'm ever so nervous,' she said, quietly.

'Don't be.' I held her hand as we ascended the stairs and went into the bedroom. Irene had put on one of the bedside lamps and its muted glow lit the room, casting shadows on the walls; she was lying on the bed, still in her stockings. Taking the bathrobe off, I closed the door behind us and gently turned Margaret to me, taking her thin frame in my arms and kissing her deeply, teasing my tongue into her mouth and running it over her teeth, sucking on her lips as I grasped her small buttocks and pressed her crotch into my growing erection. I loosened her silk robe and pulled it over her shoulders and it fell to the floor and she stood before me, like Irene, in her stockings and suspender belt; she was also, like Irene, still wearing her high-heeled shoes. I kissed her again and she clung to me, working her lips against mine until I broke off and guided her to the bed. I was acutely aware of Margaret's nervousness and embarrassment and I thought it better if I took charge of the situation.

'Have you got some lubrication?' I asked. Irene reached over to the nearest bedside table and handed me a little jar of Vaseline. As I took it my stomach did a flip and I felt the blood rush to my loins. A second later I had a wicked thought and felt my legs tremble. 'Irene,' I said, quietly, offering her the jar of Vaseline back, 'would you like to lubricate Margaret?' Taking the jar she looked at me with an expression I couldn't fathom. 'Margaret,' I said gently, 'get on the bed on your hands and knees.' Margaret obeyed, although she was visibly shaking, with fear or excitement I couldn't tell. Her tight little bum was thrust out behind her, her anus a brown mark against the pale skin in the gloom. Now Irene raised herself and knelt behind her friend, flipping the lid off the Vaseline and reaching in with a red-tipped middle finger to extract a big gob of the translucent jelly. She put one hand on her friends back and touched her jelly-coated finger to Margaret's rosebud. Margaret flinched slightly at the contact and Irene stroked her back.

'It's ok darling. I'll be very gentle.' She smeared the Vaseline around Margaret's anus then slowly and gently slid the tip of her finger in. I watched fascinated as the red nail disappeared inside. Then it was out again and Irene was delving into the jar for more lube. This time she slid her finger in deeper, to the second joint. Margaret gasped and pushed her hips backwards, indicating that she wanted it deeper. Irene pushed her long finger right in and gently rotated it to lubricate Margaret's rectal walls. Slowly she withdrew the finger, shining with the greasy jelly, and dipped into the jar again, this time with her index finger too.

She worked the tips of her two fingers against her sphincter and Margaret moaned and said: 'Yes, both fingers,' and Irene pushed harder and her fingers slid in and she kept pushing until they were fully inserted.

'I think she's ready,' she said, handing me the Vaseline.

I placed a couple of pillows, one on top of the other, in the middle of the bed and asked Irene to lie down with her head on them, then I guided Margaret to kneel down over her friend's face. I took a fingerful of jelly from the jar, which was now almost empty, and smeared it over my glans and the shaft of my cock. As I watched, Irene's hands came around Margaret's hips and grasped her buttocks with her long fingers, stretching the cheeks apart for me. At the same time she pulled Margaret's hips down to her face and started licking her friend's shaven cunt.

I straddled Irene's waist and positioned myself behind Margaret, her bum cheeks open and her little pucker invitingly visible. 'Just tell me to stop if it hurts.' Margaret didn't say anything although she was moaning softly as Irene tongued her labia and licked her inner lips and the entrance to her vagina. I put the tip of my cock against her bum hole and then stopped, suddenly unsure of myself.

I'm not hugely endowed, maybe six and a half inches, I'm probably kidding myself it's seven. But my glans are big and the shaft's quite thick and now, as I was poised to penetrate, it looked huge against Margaret's skinny buttocks and narrow hips. Claire, my post-graduate girlfriend, had had wide hips and big buttocks and I had had no qualms, or difficulty, in penetrating her.

'I'm ready,' she whispered, as though divining my uncertainty, and I started pushing. At first nothing happened, except that the shaft of my cock flexed and I struggled to grip its oily surface. I pushed a bit harder and felt her brace herself on her arms and push back at me. That action, telling me that she wanted this, overcame my reluctance and I pushed back and her sphincter opened suddenly and the thickest part of my cock went in, the sphincter closing around my shaft. Margaret gave a muffled squeal and I stopped pushing and waited for her to adjust. A few seconds later I felt her push against me again and I pushed back and my penis slid into the depths of her rectum.

It felt wonderful; I remembered the sensation from my afternoons in Claire's bed: the ring of muscle gripping my shaft and the warm, soft cocoon of the rectal walls. 'Is that ok?' I asked.

'Oh, it's so good,' gasped Margaret, as I started very slowly and gently at first, to fuck her tight arsehole. Irene's red nails were digging into Margaret's buttocks as I slid out and back in, increasing the length of my stroke, increasing the speed until it was the same as if I'd been in her pussy. Underneath Margaret, Irene slurped at her cunt, saliva and Margaret's secretions drenching her face and neck. Margaret was thrusting back at me now, getting me deep inside at each thrust; Irene's fingers dug in harder as she pushed her face into Margaret's labia to keep up with her and Margaret squealed again.