Desert Oasis Ch. 14: Is Sir Enjoying

"OK," I announced triumphantly from the other side of the screen door. "I caught them ju—"

"Gaw!" Jillian interrupted as I stepped out. "That thing ever go down?" She asked in snarky disbelief. Sitting on the ground between Bee's legs, resting against the sofa, she sat up sharply when I emerged, the subtle, refined contour of her torso leading to the sumptuous curve of her ass that flowed to her elegant legs, raised at the knee, which her breasts strove to hide themselves behind. Bee was languorously stroking Jillian's hair, her majestic breasts ebbing and flowing in motion with her arms.

"Um...no. Not really," I replied flatly, stopping in my tracks. I looked down at my enduring erection pointing confidently from my body, distended in husky hues of rose and violet beneath the milky patina of Bee's dried secretions. It bobbed gently in concert with my heart.

"But can you blame it? I'm hanging out with two dazzlingly beautiful women, whom I care very much about, none of us has a stitch of clothing on, and we've shared more things with each other in the past 48 hours than I could have possibly, wildly imagined. So, no...I don't think it's going to go down anytime soon." As if on cue, a bead of crystalline pre-cum plunged from the tip and splashed on my left thigh, sheered off-course by a soft desert breeze.

I sat on the edge of a low square table across from them. I chose there over next to them on the couch because I find trying to carry a conversations with someone next to me awkward, like a lone couple that sits adjacent in a four-person restaurant booth. But beyond being a more natural position for conversation, my motives were voyeuristic and exhibitionist: I wanted to see them, and I wanted them to see me.

Leaning forward, I widened my knees, brought my elbows to rest on my thighs, and clasped my hands. I looked at Bee, who looked deeply back at me, then I looked at Jillian, who was looking coolly but dauntlessly at my erection.

"As I was saying," I pressed on despite the palpable charge in the air, "they were just about to wrap up breakfast service, but I got us some. But as they're preparing for lunch, it's going to take them a bit." My cock lurched as it dispelled more pre-cum.

"About how long?" Jillian asked. She reclined between Bee's parted legs, her arms draped along her friend's thighs. She resumed stroking Jillian's long lustrous hair.

"I dunno. Maybe half hour or so," I replied. "Why? Hungry?"

"Yeah, but more important—I need an orgasm," she stated matter-of-factly. "Half an hour should give me enough time," she calculated, looking up at Bee. Bee nodded her head in agreement, gazing on her friend.

Jillian's audacity continued to catch me off guard. Ice shot through my veins. My cock tingled and quivered at the thought of what I may be privileged to witness.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, letting a serene "Mmmmm" hover in her throat. Bee shot me a warm, relaxed smile, then returned to her friend. I seized the opportunity to brazenly stare: With her head back, Jillian's body elongated, her dainty breasts hiking, her dark, succulent nipples pointing skyward. I followed the smooth contours of her ribs and abdomen, over her navel, to her mound and the thick, onyx fescue that covered it. The angle of her hips and her dense grove obscured her lips. But I stared intently regardless. My pulse quickened; my cock bloated to the point of discomfort.

Jillian reached up and wrapped her hands around Bee's head—just as Bee had done to me—and kissed her passionately. Bee's hands slithered over Jillian's shoulders and cupped her breasts, massaging them; her own generous breasts rested on her friend's shoulders. I'm certain Jillian could feel Bee's plump nipples nudging her skin. Lost in each other, I watched enthralled. My scrotum tightened, electrified; my cock vibrated in appetence, drooling its sparkling essence.

With a dancer's grace, Jillian rose fluidly and, without ever breaking her kiss with Bee, repositioned herself on the edge of the sofa between Bee's wide stretched legs. Bee's embrace shifted—her left arm crossed her colleague's abdomen, her right lay parallel just above, her hand coddling Jillian's left breast, her thumb and forefinger massaging and tugging her nipple. Jillian's face contorted under her friend's touch. Regaining composure, Jillian pulled down her left hand—her right continued to comb wantonly through Bee's hair—and pointed at me. Her kiss with Bee never suspended, she turned her wrist, her delicate finger now motioning "come hither." Her wrist twisted again; that lithe finger now pointed between her winsome thighs. My mouth went dry; I'm certain I blanched. She effortlessly lifted her legs and hooked them over Bee's as I slid off the table to my knees.

Her legs flared in the desert morning's extravagant sunlight, my eyes were treated to what, heretofore, only my taste, touch and smell were able to partake: Her fomented vulva was a luxurious fig, a deep ruby with a molasses ribbon edging her lips; her petite outer lips were a rich amaretto beneath her thick strands. I knelt before her, drawn to her heat. Unsure what she desired, I paused, lest a misstep ruin the majesty. I stared transfixed. My hands skimmed sensuously along Jillian's flexed inner thighs, my forearms caressing Bee's robust legs in the process. Still entwined with Bee, their jaws undulating in union, Jillian reached out. She ran her fingers through my hair, gripped the back of my head, and guided my mouth to her presented sex. I shivered. My erection felt turgid and thick deep within my groin as I rested on my heels. Sliding my hands under Bee's thighs, I leaned, filling my lungs with our friend's subtle yet nonetheless potent bouquet. I lighted tender little kisses atop her Mons, then on her glowing, parted lips. I drew her left petal into my mouth, caressing it with my tongue as my suction pulled it farther in. With gentle, determined care, I released it slowly. I shifted, and treated her right lip. The ladies continued to kiss as I looked up through Jillian's thicket. The tip of my extended tongue glided through the cleft between her right inner and outer lips. I traveled down, then up, until I slid alongside her clit. Her hips jolted. She broke her kiss. Grasping the sofa's edge, she looked down. "Whoaa—," she uttered breathlessly, shifting her hips slightly forward to engage my tongue further. I scaled her hood with my tongue and, coming down the other side, and explored the channel between her left labia majora and minora to the point where they join at the base of her entry. I retreated, paused, and advanced again, penetrating her with my tongue. My nose tickled by her hair, I again enjoyed her full flavor—delicate, herbal, savorous. She thrust her pelvis against my mouth. My tongue probed more; my upper lip ground against her clit. With her mound sealing my nose, I was forced to breath through my mouth. Inhaling drew fresh air across her enflamed, sodden lips, heightening her sensations.

"Huuuaaah!" Jillian caught her breath. "What are you doing?"

I chuckled, the sound waves reverberating in her womanhood.

"Oh my gosh, that feels amazing," she continued in a delirious, whispered moan, her nails digging into the back of my scalp. Her use of the word "gosh" tickled me: despite being completely naked and exposed, swaddled in the embrace of her equally naked good friend while a ravenously aroused man who, until two days ago, was effectively an acquaintance, feasts on her femininity, Jillian's Southern decorum bubbled to the surface in her use the genteel interjection "gosh." The amusement quickly transformed to abandoned desire. She enflamed me. I sought to devour her. I craved her nectar, her flavor, her body, her ecstasy. She grabbed my head and held me in place as she thrust her hips against me, redoubling the pressure of her pussy against my mouth. Her yearning was unmistakable. A "grrrrr" boiled in her throat.

Suddenly, she pushed my head back.

"Did you cum?" Jillian asked.

"Huh? Wha—?" I asked, muddled. "No. Why?"

"Do you think you're going to cum?" She asked, neglecting my question.

Despite the magic of seeing her, of tasting her, of experiencing her, my cloyed sexuality had short-circuited. Though my preternatural erection was steely, so was it was stoic; I feared another orgasm for me was some ways off.

"No...sorry," I replied bashfully. "Did you cu—?"

"Great!" She cut me off, disregarding my question again. Her face lit. "Stay here." Jillian leapt up and, swinging her left leg over my head, bounded toward the pool. I looked at Bee perplexed, my befuddlement echoed by her shrugging her shoulders and lifting her hands, palms up. As she lowered them, Bee's right hand came to rest on her soft belly and glided over her navel until it arrived at her mound. Cupping it, she reversed and, dragging upwards across it in a Mr Spock "V," parted her labia. Clearly affected by our ministrations to Jillian, her inner lips were puffy, pomegranate and glistening. Her clit emerged from under her hood and confronted me. I blew her a kiss. Bee turned her head askew but continued to look at me and coquettishly batted her eyes. She raised her other hand, bent it 90° at her wrist and playfully touched three fingers to her chest between her breasts. 

Jillian scurried back with a chaise and some towels. She set it down under the eaves and stretched the towels over the undoubtedly superheated straps. She patted it giddily and instructed, "Come. Lay down."

I looked at Bee. My heart raced as I stood. My cock swung indecorously as I positioned myself on the chaise. "Good. There we go," Jillian said, swinging her left leg over me and setting on the opposite side of the chaise. My vision was immediately, delightfully eclipsed by the sight of Jillian's inner thighs, firm ass and puffed, parting pussy. Affixing her hands on my hips, she lowered her cunt to my thirsting mouth. Unlike on the sofa, or indeed in bed earlier that morning, this position allowed Jillian to grind her clit against my chin as my tongue furiously sought her, savored her and drank her. She let out a prolonged "Mmmmmmmmmmmm" punctuated with a curt "Ah" as she kissed me ardently with her pussy. The stiff strands of her pubic hair brushed my cheeks as she rocked her hips. Her nectar poured on my foraging tongue and trickled down my throat; the high florals of her arousal filled my nose.

I still didn't fully understand her concern about my cumming, but at this point I didn't much care, either. There was a lightness, a freedom in knowing that I didn't have to divert my mind to stave off an orgasm that was roiling up too soon, off tempo with the greater proceedings. Knowing that I wasn't going to cum—that, in fact, I don't think I could have orgasmed—allowed me to fully enjoy the moment, to enjoy Jillian, and enjoy pleasing her unencumbered.

I felt her right hand leave my hip. Her fingers carefully enveloped my cock in a reverse grip: her palm cradled the topside while her fingers wrapped around the more pliant underside. With this grasp, her thumb curved around the base of my shaft. "Mmmmmm," I purred, tightening my muscles, lifting my pelvis slightly and making my cock swell and pulse in her grasp. "Hmm hmm hmm hmm," she chuckled, followed by a sharp, inhaled "Hua—!" as I plunged my tongue into her, grabbing her hips and pulling her down to maximize the penetration of my tongue and the pressure of my chin on her clit. I felt her legs tremble as she lowered more of her weight onto my face. Her grasp of me tightened, constricting me harshly. I felt her head snap down to look at me between her stretched legs; her hair swept my abdomen. She maintained her clasp on my cock.

"You still think you're not going to cum, right?" Jillian asked in a concerned tone.

My mouth filled with her vulva, I emitted a regrettable but affirmative, "Mm hmm." Jillian lifted her hips.

"Yes?" She asked again, almost confrontationally.

"Yes. I'm hard but I'm still spent. I don't think I could cum if I wanted to," I conceded. I ran my hands along her thighs. I felt I needed to console her in some way, thinking I had somehow disappointed.

"Perfect."

Her answer confounded me. She slowly returned her womanhood to my mouth. My arms embraced her thighs. I drew her labia into my mouth, sucking them gently, as I massaged her clit with my chin. She resumed her grind, her pelvis rocking to and fro. She released my cock and resumed balancing herself on my hips. Her pace accelerated; her breathing shallowed. She sprang up suddenly and swung her left leg over me to stand alongside the chaise. In nearly the same motion she swung her right leg over. Now facing me and straddling my hips, her engorged pussy hovered over my cock.

She looked at me sternly, confirming an understanding. "Right?" She asked.

"Mm hmm," I acknowledged, nodding my head. My heart was thundering in my chest. Was she going to fuck me? That seemed preposterous, knowing her "preference"; the thought nonetheless made my erection quiver.

"OK." And with that, she reached down, parted her pussylips and slowly lowered herself. She positioned herself so that she trapped the length of my shaft between my body and hers, her sodden lips draped around my erection. As she had entertained the arm of the sofa, she was now treating me: anchoring her hands on my ribcage for stability, she rocked her pelvis forward and back, her torrid, silken labia sliding deliciously along my solid penis. I ran my hands up her thighs, enjoying the coarse but invisible hairs that dress them. My hands slid around to the smooth curves of her ass. I held my hands still, relishing the feel of her skin brushing against my palms as her pelvis swayed. I guided my right hand up her left side, over her hip and ribs. Just beneath her arm, I detoured to her breast. I swiped my thumb across her coffee bean nipple. As it hardened further, I pressed her puckered berry into her breast, massaging it against the rib beneath. An "Ah!" tumbled from her parted lips. She squeezed her eyes shut. Her movement accelerated. Her cheeks and chest flushed. The contours of her quads articulated. Her copious essence coated us both, making her slide along my cock effortless. "Oh gah! Oh gah! Oh gah!" she whispered. Her hips froze. She held her breath. Her eyes squeezed shut, her lips drawn tight, she squealed with a high pitched, "Ngheeeee—ahhhhhh!" and dug her nails into my chest. Her legs quivered and her abdomen rolled. She grit her teeth. Her face ruddied as the tendons in her neck strained.

She orgasmed powerfully, bucking against me. Though I was not inside her, I could feel her vulva spasming on my shaft, her soft, wet lips lapping my taut skin. Her searing extract inundated me, pouring over my scrotum and between my thighs. It cooled as it pooled on my belly. I lifted my hips to press against her. She crashed forward, burying her face in my shoulder, her hands resting on my chest. Her hair blanketed my face. She fought to catch her breath. I could feel her butt clench autonomically as her sex spasmed in aftershock.

"Pffffffff..." She exhaled. "Wow. Thank you, Sweetie." She nuzzled her face in the crook of my neck, her left hand softly kneading my chest like a cat's paw.

"Oh, you're very welcome. It was my pleasure and my honor. How was it?"

She snapped up and looked at me, her face radiant. "It was..." She turned her gaze upward. "Bodacious!" Realizing my cock was still, indeed, erect, she looked down. My glans, swollen and weary, glistening in my companion's elixir, peered from between her distended, hirsute, port wine lips. "Wow!" She exclaimed, sweeping her hair away from her face with her right hand. "You did stay hard." She touched the edge of my crown gently with the tip of her left finger. My cock jolted. Jillian pushed her pelvis down on me and rocked subtly.

I turned my head to look at Bee. She sat, her left knee up, her right at an angle resting on the sofa, her right arm stretched long across the cushion top, her left resting on her belly. A pleased smile dressed her face. Her eyes were radiant; her nipples, hard.

Jillian rose up and looked down between us at my splattered groin. Rivulets of her oil trickled down her thighs.

"Ugh! Sorry..." She said, her voiced tinged with embarrassment.

"No, no worries, luv," I consoled her. "That was amazing."

"Really?" she asked. I sensed her disbelief in my sincerity.

"Yes, really. It was ferociously erotic. And a lot of fun."

"Aw, really?"

"Yeah."

"But you didn't cum. I thought all guys needed to cum." She turned to Bee. "Don't they?" Her breasts shimmied beguilingly.

"Ha!" I guffawed at her acumen. "Yeah, that's usually true." Jillian returned her attention. "And it usually is for me. But like I said, you ladies have worn. Me. Out. And I couldn't have cum if I wanted to. Which was cool, actually, because it allowed me to fully enjoy you."

She leaned in and kissed my forehead. Still crouched over she looked up at Bee. "He's a keeper." She caressed my left cheek. Bee giggled. I stole a glance at Jillian's suspended breasts.

Jillian sat back up, her lips still blanketing my cock. "Woo! I'm all sweaty!" She declared, fanning her face with her hands. We laughed. She looked up as she swiped away the perspiration from under her eyes with her middle fingers. I placed my hands on her thighs, notching my thumbs in the bend of her hips. My palms stuck to her viscid, incandescent skin.

The doorbell rang. Room service.

"Ooh! Yes! Breakfast! I'll get it," Jillian said excitedly. She squatted between my legs onto the towel on the chaise to dry herself quickly. Her assailed clitoris and florid lips protruded radiantly from her groin as she dabbed herself. She hopped off and strode inside.

I looked at Bee, bleary eyed. I let out an exaggerated breath through my pursed lips, making my cheeks billow. I rose onto my elbows. Her warm smile turned smug.

"See? I told you she'd like you hard."

I widened my eyes and nodded my head in acknowledgement. "Woo! Pshshshsh," was the only response I could formulate.

"And she's right, you know." Her tone sweetened.

"How so?" I asked.

"You're a keeper."

"Mmmmmmm, so are you, my love. So are you."

Bee stood and approached. She bent and kissed me on the forehead. My right hand instinctually lighted on her right hip. Her warm breasts nuzzled my cheeks.

"Hey, you two!" Jillian called from inside the villa. "Breakfast!"

We chuckled. "Here." Bee tossed me a washcloth for my face.

Reminded of the state I was in, coated in Jillian's secretions, I blurted, "Ugh!" as I surveyed myself. My erection showed no sign of abating.

"I'll take care of that," Bee informed sensually. She pushed me gently back onto the chaise. In a fluid motion, Bee slinked between legs, stretched long on the lounge and took my length in her soft, welcoming mouth. She lashed me with her tongue, swirling it around my cock. An "Mmmmmm" rolled in her throat as she withdrew. My cock bloated, the tumescent head pressing against the roof of her mouth as she extracted me. With a broad stroke, she lapped my scrotum, then, pulling my shaft to the right, she kissed and lightly licked my mound and lower abdomen. She rose and scaled me, my cock trawling between her pendulous breasts and along her pillowy belly. She kissed me.

Pulling away, she asked lasciviously, "So...does Sir enjoy tasting her pussy on my lips?" She tilted her head down and looked deeply in my eyes. Her rich espresso eyes bore through me.

Slack-jawed and dumbfounded, I was speechless. Her raw sexuality melted my mind. My cock answered on my behalf, jabbing her Mons. She dropped her head in acknowledgement and chuckled.

"And how was it ta—"

"Shhhhhh...," she said, putting her fingertip to my lips.