Sexier Side of the Hill (2 page)

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Authors: Victoria Blisse

BOOK: Sexier Side of the Hill
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“I’m pretty certain I know what the problem is, gentleman,” I whispered and looked from one strained face to the other before I continued. I basked in their undivided attention and stroked my fingers absent-mindedly up and down their dicks. “The good news is it’s a highly common problem. It’s not fatal, and I know exactly what to do to make you both feel much better. I need to relieve some of the pressure building up in the problem areas here.” I squeezed Paul. “And here.” I squeezed Simon.

“Please do whatever you have to, Doctor,” Paul replied, panting with desire, “I feel like I’m going to explode.”

 
Simon nodded his agreement.

“Certainly gentleman, please relax as much as you can, you’re in good hands now.”

It struck me then how absurd the scene actually was. I had my hands wrapped around two cocks, hidden behind two papers while sitting on the backseat of a bus filled mostly with pensioners. I didn’t care. The danger of being discovered heightened my arousal and my only regret was that I couldn’t stimulate my own genitals as I manipulated theirs.

There is a special thrill in wanking off a man and it is more than doubled when you’re wanking off two hot guys in public. There’s actually a lot of skill involved in manipulating two cocks at once. I was gentle, firm and measured and I thrilled in every bitten down moan and gasp I managed to coax from between their lips.

I got the most wonderful mental orgasm when Paul came with a gush, splattering his offering across the middle pages of his paper and when Simon followed soon after, I felt my knickers dampen.

“There you go, lads.” I smiled and took my hands from their crotches. “I do believe your problem has been taken care of.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Paul grinned as his hand delved behind his paper and he put his cock away.

“Yes, thank you,” Simon added and at the same instant they both turned and kissed me, their dry lips caressing my flushed cheeks.

“Let me know if the problem reoccurs, and I’ll do all I can to relieve the pressure.”

“Oh, you’ll be the first to know, Doctor.” Paul leered and I nodded, suddenly at a complete loss for words.

The coach stopped and the driver stepped outside. As we waited for new passengers to board, I tried to take in all that had just happened.

“You’re just a slut,” Darren had once whispered in my ear, his fingers in my pants as a crowd of horny students pretended not to watch us. “You love the weight of their stares on your back and you’d take each of their cocks in your willing holes if you could.”

And he was right, completely and totally correct. I’ve always had a voracious sexual appetite and I have never apologised for it. Mostly I attribute my laid back attitude to my parents who were out and out hippies, bless their hearts. They were never embarrassed by any question I asked and they’d never once given me a negative vibe when it came to sex. I have always been thankful to them as I have never had to deal with crippling guilt and doubt about the rightness of my sexual actions. I think Darren really appreciated this in me and I wonder if it was one of the main things he had found attractive when we first met at university. There had been any number of younger girls he could have gone with, but no, he chose me.

Darren had once said he would throw me a massive fortieth bash, and we would prove to the world that I wasn’t over the hill. Darren is twelve years younger than me. He’d always wanted to be a doctor and his enthusiasm for the job made my heart sing.

He’s hot and not quite young enough to be my son. He has the most expressive icy blue eyes that charmed old ladies, children and hot-blooded women alike. I was amazed when he’d approached me at a friend’s party, turned on by his kiss and ecstatic when he’d slipped his fingers into my knickers and made me come right there as we’d danced.

It had set the tone for our relationship. Public orgasms had become addictive. We went to parties several times a week, and we would come at all of them. I remembered so many different positions like sitting in his lap, no knickers and his fat cock lodged inside of me, poking out from his harsh denim trousers. Sometimes we hid our sex but other times we were on display.

The first time we were watched was an accident. We were going at it like rabbits in a backroom after the slow tease of close dancing when a woman walked in to put her coat on the bed. The coat fell from her fingers and I pushed Darren to get him off me so I could cover up. He wouldn’t stop and she didn’t leave. She watched and as she watched she took off her clothes. After she’d stripped and Darren had filled me with his hot juices, she knelt between my thighs and cleaned me up.

Fuck that was hot.

That woman, Jean, met us at many parties that year. Sometimes she would pretend to catch us at it, just watching or punishing us for our lewd behaviour.

Those were the days before exam pressure, my first experience of death at work and my stupid fucking mistake that had cost me Darren. I thought since we were so blasé about people joining in on our fucking that I could go off and fuck a man on my own quite merrily. Darren hadn’t agreed. When he’d discovered I’d been with someone behind his back, he’d gone crazy. He’d yelled and screamed and cried. He’d said he loved me. He’d told me he’d thought he’d found his soul mate and I’d ruined it.

I didn’t go to any parties after that. It was my last year and the heartbreak actually helped me to knuckle down and study. I still missed him and had invited him to my party, fully expecting him to stay away. Last I’d heard, he’d married a lady surgeon from his hospital. I had to invite him. I’d traced down every other person from our circle of friends, so I couldn’t leave him out.

I tried really hard to convince myself I only invited him to save face but really, I’d invited him because I’d hoped time had healed that old wound. I hadn’t exactly had time to look for anyone else with the pressure of being a newly qualified doctor, and the men I’d dated hadn’t come close to measuring up to Darren. I know it was sad, a grown woman still pinning away like that, but I couldn’t seem to stop it.

It was weird, the silence that fell over Paul, Simon and I as we travelled the few extra minutes to Dover. I wondered if I’d been mistaken, but I could have sworn more fun was afoot that day but Paul snored beside me and Simon kept his face buried in his newspaper. I boiled away angrily, pissed off to be left so wanting. Darren would never have left me like this. He was always aware of my pleasure.

They didn’t look at me as we fished out our passports for customs or even when we walked off the coach and onto the ferry for the hour and half journey across the English Channel. I sat in the main lounge, stared out of the window at the horizon and sipped slowly from a small cup of expensive, weak tea.

“I wondered where you’d got to.” Simon strode over to me, held out his hand and nodded his head towards the door. “Come with me.”

I know men are strange, unpredictable creatures, but as I took his big hand and allowed myself to be pulled through the lounge, I really did wonder what was going on. I was tempted to be angry. He’d ignored me after receiving a very satisfying hand job, and now he was demanding I do things for him. The closet feminist hidden deep within railed at this treatment. However, it seemed my slut instinct was still in full control of my aching-for-an-orgasm body at that moment. I meekly followed as Simon briskly walked and dragged me out of the glass doors and into the brisk air of the deck.

“It’s your turn now.” Paul grinned as he pulled me down onto a wide bench beside him.

“I don’t think I have any swellings.” I laughed, a little confused by the circumstances.

“No, but I think you have a leak.” Simon sat beside me and leant in, his hand trailed down over my stomach and his fingers plucked at the button on my jeans.

“Oh, I didn’t think anyone could tell.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, madam.” Paul nodded. “We’re good at what we do. I’m sure no one else would have noticed.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and casually rested a thick hand on my breast as his friend eased down my zip and slipped his fingers inside.

“Oh, yes her knickers are soaked,” Simon reported. He looked straight past me to Paul, and I felt a strange thrill at being examined like a car or a piece of meat.

“Let me check.” Paul’s voice quavered and let me know they weren’t as detached as they attempted to appear. His fingers replaced his friend’s. They felt stubbier and rougher as they were forced between my pussy’s lips, pressing the damp material between my sensitised folds.

The seagulls above us cried out with lusty abandon. I wished I could too but I was in public again. Although it seemed no one else was braving the wind, someone could walk past at any moment.

“I need to find the source of the leak and deal with it,” he explained.

“And I need to help,” Simon added as his fingers snaked under the black material, too. I stretched my thighs as their fingers fought and sought, arousing me as they groped and grabbed, squeezed and stroked.

“I’ve found it,” Paul gasped. His finger slipped between my slick lips and sunk into my clutching hole.

Simon’s finger that had rested on my clit now slipped up and down, and I stifled a moan of erotic joy. Two different hands manipulated me, two bodies crushed against mine and two gorgeous men went all out to make me come. I felt like a princess.

It was difficult not to scream with pleasure. I buried my face in Simon’s shoulder and held on to Paul’s T-shirt as they coaxed an orgasm from me. The cold wind whipped past my cheek as my warm juices coated their fingers, and I bit into the soft flesh of Simon’s neck to stop the noise bursting forth from my lips.

“Sorry,” I apologised as a wave of contentment lapped over me.

“No need to apologise,” he replied. He kissed my cheek and the intimacy made my cunt tremor again.

“Someone’s coming,” Paul hissed and broke the moment. Their hands whipped from my pants, as mine dove low to zip and button my pants. We talked inanely about the sun and the wind until the man had walked past, then we laughed with relief once he was out of ear shot.

Together, we made our way back to the coach. There was no question that we were now friends. We had an orgasmic link that melded us into a group. It was just about lunchtime, and I was confident the day would only get better. I’ve always been greedy and my body still craved more—more Simon, more Paul and about a million more orgasms.

We settled in the back corner of the bus. I lay my head on Paul’s shoulder as he dozed. Simon’s hand rested gently on my thigh. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon moment. I felt like I was filled with Sunday lunch and content just to be. I knew I’d be hungry again soon, and I ran through the sexual menu in my mind, lazily weighing up the options and wondering what I might have next.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

 

It’s amazing how quickly complete strangers can become friends and lovers, and as we pulled in to the hypermarket, it seemed I’d known these two cheeky lads forever. We climbed off the bus together, grabbed one of the massive, heavy-duty trolleys and trundled off into cheap booze heaven.

As we walked up and down mile long aisles, we chatted and laughed. We played “Pass the pinch”. For a while, we passed along pinches to the arse between the three of us quite successfully—that is until both Simon and Paul ganged up on me by the beer and attacked a butt cheek each. I was so ripe for the taking at that moment, I’d have fucked in the aisle without a care for the passersby if either of them had urged me to.

I picked up several bottles of spirits and a couple of crates of beer, then Simon helped me to pick a few cheap but good wines. I watched patiently as he picked out proper wine for his cellar, exclaiming his admiration for the French with each new bottle he caressed.

The fun part came as I packed. I wrapped my bottles in old sheets, placed them inside my empty suitcase, artistically arranging the cans in between. It took a little thought, and after I stopped listening to the lads’ directions, I actually got all but one can to fit.

Paul took the extra tin. He grinned and flicked the ring pull, relishing the bubbling hiss of released lager. “My reward for doing all that shopping.”

“We’ve got a good hour and a half before we have to go back,” Simon said as he glanced at his watch. Others of our party had just entered the hypermarket after using their time to look at the French scenery.

“Oh, let’s just go back to the coach,” I sighed. “The driver said he’d be there to let us on.”

“Good idea,” said Paul. “This beer seems to have set off that old problem of mine again.”

So we walked back across the immense car park, the warm autumn breeze caressing our cheeks, the sun shining down and warming our backs. We weren’t interested though. Our carnal desires had taken over, and we were eager to indulge them.

“Good timing was that.” The driver nodded gruffly. “I was just about to go grab myself somethin’ to eat. You can watch the coach.”

“Sure, no problem.” I smiled as he lifted my heavy, wheeled suitcase into the luggage hold. “How long will you be?”

“Oh, I’ll be back before the others, no doubt. Say about forty-five minutes, maybe an hour.”

“Okay,” I replied, “See you later.”

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