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Over the next two months, the massage therapy and training had gone exceptionally well. As expected, Jane had returned to her sleek, self-confident self. First Jim, and then a happy Harry smoothed away her tension points and let her relax and stretch out. Harry proved to be not as talented a masseur as Jim or Dr. Anderson, but Jane found his massage effective, and Jim could see the results. They all four got into the diet, exercise and stretching Dr. Anderson had prescribed. They were all in fact as healthy and gorgeous as they had ever been. When fellow dancers in the modern dance company she had rejoined, both male and female, noticed her improvement, and how could they not, Jim found himself steady work as a massage therapist, albeit unlicensed in New York. They paid him surprisingly well, and the family of some of the wealthy young dancers were becoming clients as well.
The only sexual massages would be with Connie. She was sure she was the only one Joe massaged where the massage and sex were involved together, and that helped assuage any jealousy she might have at him touching all those beautiful bodies. When Jim was training Harry, he would let Harry work on Connie those times when she was around. He wanted her to feel what the real massage was about. He noticed Harry’s hard on when he worked on that exquisite body, and it always made him smile. Connie still insisted Jim’s massage was much more therapeutic, but made it clear he shouldn’t get any ideas for using his particular technique on her with anyone else.
“I won’t,” he said as he fucked her into another blissful climax.
In order for Jim to provide massages to his new clients and to Connie in private he needed another table. By the end of the first month of Jim’s stay in New York, a permanent table had been custom built in Woodstock. Connie was the one who figured out what he needed to do. She had told Jim Woodstock was the most likely place to find the right carpenter to construct what he wanted.
A couple of Saturdays after they had met, they took off upstate to a friend of hers. An old boyfriend. In more ways then one. He was ten years older. They had had an affair, he being married. He was still married, and his wife wasn’t around that weekend.
Eric was a good looking man. Short and well put together physically, neither thin nor stout, with a pleasant handsome face. Jim could see Eric and Connie made a lovely couple. He noticed they had an attraction for each other still, especially Eric. Eric had done good business with the local real estate, eventually broadening his base all around the Hudson Valley. His wife was a potter, and a very good one as could be seen by the many pots beautifully displayed all through the lovely simple two story rural house they lived in. She was off hocking her wares at another arts and crafts festival, a common event in the summer. So being so available at that moment in time only excited Eric more.
Being a long time resident of Woodstock proved immensely helpful. He knew a great carpenter, not a friend, but a person who had crafted some magnificent furniture, the best Eric had ever seen. Eric took Jim and Connie to Don’s studio, and they could see what he meant. There was great care taken with every detail of his tables and chairs and benches. The wood was beautifully stained and had great grain. The furniture was simple and utilitarian but had a grace to the shaping, a soft flow. Jim wasn’t looking for a great piece of furniture. Pure practicality was more what he had envisioned. He thought differently once he’d encountered Don’s work. And, by and large, cost wasn’t a factor.
Being a tough old cuss, Don’s reluctance was clear. Jim described what he needed, providing a sketch showing dimensions. The hole in the top part of the table for the head. The padding needed. Adjustable heights. Storage space below. Don’s gruffness never cut Jim off, which encouraged Jim. By the end of Jim’s description, Don was giving him a half shake of the head. Still no, but with a maybe in there somewhere.
“What would it take to convince you to do it?”
“Two thousand five hundred.”
“Wow,” said Eric and Connie simultaneously. They looked at each other and shared a sexy smile.
“I want it in a week.”
“Two weeks and three thousand,” Don said gruffly, studying the drawing.
“Deal.” They shook. Don’s hand was bigger and by far rougher than Jim’s big hand, and Jim could feel the older man’s strength, but it was a gentle shake. “Do you have a phone?”
When Don guided him into his house, the gruffness was gone, and a kindness twinkled in his eyes. Jim called Vic with the news. She was happy to cable the money. Don wasn’t sure where to cable it, so Jim sat the phone down to talk to Eric, still in the studio. He saw Eric pawing Connie’s ass as they separated from a kiss. Jim was instantly hard. Eric was surprised and embarrassed, but when Connie noticed the bulge, she smiled at Jim and pinched Eric’s ass.
“Uh, do you know a Western Union in town,” asked Jim, looking more escort numaraları eryaman at Connie than Eric, revealing his sudden sexual intoxication.
“Yeah, the same building as my shop there’s a travel agency that’s got Western Union.” Eric went through his wallet and found the business card.
“Could you tell my, uh, partner on the phone?” said Jim, and watched him enter Don’s home. Why didn’t he say girlfriend or lover. She was his partner. It wasn’t exactly a euphemism. Still, the other words might have encouraged him to continue playing with Connie.
“Jealous?” Connie asked, stroking Jim’s club, rising up on her toes to kiss him. “Or something else.”
“A little of both,” he said between kisses. “Mostly something else.” The second kiss was more lustful as she jumped into his hands holding her ass. His hands pushed her cunny against his club and rubbed there.
“I’m so fucking horny,” she whispered into his ear.
“Me too,” he said. He let her down gently. She pinched his cock through his pants. He was on full display and didn’t care, which always stirred her up more.
Driving back to Eric’s house, Connie sat between the two men. While tormenting Jim’s cock as subtly as possible, she would brush her arm across Eric’s leg, touching his inner thigh as delicately as a wind gust. Jim knew she was giving as much of a thrill to Eric as he was getting and with similar results.
Once inside, she told Eric, “Why don’t you take the first shower. Jim and I need to talk.” She brought Jim up to the guest room, which shared a narrow wall with Eric’s bedroom. The sleeping arrangements had officially left Jim downstairs on the sofa with Connie occupying the single bed in the guest room which unfortunately was too narrow for the two of them. While Eric showered, Connie unzipped Jim’s massive club, releasing it from its painful confines, and slowly took it into her mouth.
“You want to watch, don’t you, my perverted love,” she said between sucks. “you want to watch me fuck Eric.”
Nodding, Jim said, “Take off your panties.”
Removing them, she kept her lips moving up and down on his cock. She took his cock into her throat. He lifted her hips while lying back so that her legs straddled his face and her already flowing pussy pushed onto his mouth. His mouth felt so good on her pussy, but she stopped him.
“I want you to cum in my pussy, darling. I want to cum when he mixes his with yours. And then when you suck all that nasty sticky liquid out of me, his and yours and mine.” Her words were making him even harder. She stuck his club, her Vlad back down her throat, pumping it until he was nearly at the breaking point.
“I’m going to cum,” Jim groaned.
“Wait.” She reversed positions and impaled her cunny on his club. “Take me Vlad.” Just a few fast hard strokes and, with a long deep moan, Jim was cumming hard. “Shh, I think he’s done with his shower. Good timing, darling.” Quieting the moan, she kissed his lips.
“You make him wear a rubber, darling,” Jim said.
“You’re no fun.”
“Make him eat you out.”
“Okay, pervert,” she said. Her ass lifted up and down slowly and gently, feeling his still hard club slide inside its sheath. She was tempted to stay and cum with Jim. But Jim wanted the voyeur act. That excited her more than her own feelings about fucking Eric. Quietly fucking next to his room, they heard Eric enter it. She slipped off Jim’s magnificent pole, tossed on a sexy black teddy she pulled from her overnight bag, revealing her previous planning for this very event, and strolled voluptuously into Eric’s room.
The bedroom, unlike the guest room, was impressive. The bed was king sized and there was still space for drawers and a lovely old vanity and big closets and an armchair and lamp. Letting the towel drop from around his waist once he saw the erotic image of Connie, Eric was naked and semi hard standing in the middle of the room by the armchair. She knelt before him. While kneeling, she pushed the back of her foot into her cunny to prevent too much leakage and to stimulate her as well. She was soon pushing his full thick fairly long cock down her throat. “You’ve gotten so good,” Eric moaned. “The best.”
“Had a good teacher and a most willing subject,” she said between sucks. His balls were expanding with seminal fluid, threatening to burst. “Not yet.” She bounced his cock.
She lay down on the bed, her legs spread wide. “Lick me Eric. Lick out my juices.” He did, sucking in her nectar along with Jim’s cum. Tasting the odd bitter taste stopped him for a second. She was having none of that, forcing her cunny onto his mouth. He lapped her up and nibbled on her clit. She was moaning, breathing hard and fast. “Oh god, that’s good, that’s so good.”
Before it went too far, she said, “Got any rubbers?” He got out of bed, his cock bouncing up and down as he retrieved a rubber and handed it to her. Turning herself around and wiggling her ass and cunny at his face as he lay back on the bed, he licked her labia while ankara bayan escort she rolled the rubber over his cock. She turned back again, kissing him as she slowly lowered herself onto his cock.
Despite the latex wall, he loved feeling her hot wet cunny surrounding his cock. He loved looking up at her as she concentrated on fucking him. She was incredibly beautiful.
“You have any oil or KY or anything,” she asked mid fuck.
“In my wife’s drawer,” he said with a swallow. His wife. What a cad. He looked up at Connie. All was well.
“Jim?” asked Connie. Jim had entered the room at the beginning of the fuck. He retrieved the KY jelly and applied it to her asshole. He slipped one, two, three fingers inside her narrowest passage, keeping his fingers still, letting her fucking movements on Eric determine the fucking of his fingers. Once opened up enough, he crawled on the bed. She stopped moving to let him slide inside her. Four strokes later, he was in all the way. Jim’s ass fucking guided her movement on Eric. Jim’s powerful club was lifting her up and down, faster and faster. Groans of three people filled the room. Jim had never felt another cock, and Eric’s was sliding just through a membrane. He couldn’t believe how thrilling it felt inside her. Eric was getting into the act, fucking rapidly from beneath as Jim’s club sent long hard strokes inside her.
Eric froze, pulling Connie down hard on him as he was cumming, sending Connie gasping into her own long awaited orgasm. After two more powerful thrusts amidst the twitching and contracting and convulsing and ejaculating his club was letting him feel, Jim jammed himself deep and was cumming as well. His orgasm was so overwhelming he nearly passed out. They were all at full moan, but Connie’s elongated “Ooooooh,” was the loudest.
They collapsed, resulting in Connie between the two men, her face towards Eric and her back towards Jim. She rubbed her ass cheeks against Jim’s deflating manhood. Jim hugged her to him and played with her nipples. She turned her head around so they could touch tongues and kiss lovingly. The kiss ended and moments later they all receded into sleep.
Two weeks later Jim and Connie were back in Upstate New York, stepping into Don’s studio with Eric. And Miranda, Eric’s wife. A couple of rugged looking brothers were there, too. They were moving the table. The frame being made of maple, and with two arcs of brass supporting it on the sides, fashioned ingeniously to make height adjustments possible, and even with the pine bed, the table was a heavy piece of furniture. The Grianto Brothers were up to the task. They loaded it into their flat bed truck and drove off to New York City where Harry and Jane were awaiting their arrival at Harry’s apartment.
Jim was happy. The table was a pleasant vision and so was Eric’s wife. She was a little taller than Eric, slender, pretty. Her wispy dirty blonde hair was cut short. Her cotton summer dress was worn as if she were in her usual t shirt and jeans. The dress though showed off the subtle curves of her body, her small firm high breasts and her narrow hips and her lovely peach shaped ass. Her movements were boyish more than girlish. She had a direct, honest presence, an outdoor, rural, warm and gregarious demeanor.
Connie had the plans set. She talked to Eric over the phone. He was a little nervous about having Connie stay in the house in Miranda’s presence. He didn’t tell her about his nervousness, but she had anticipated it. She told him to spend the day seducing his wife, doing everything he could to turn her on, to intensify her need, to make her almost cum as often as possible before Connie and Jim arrived. Cook up dinner for the four of them and make it romantic, candlelight, lots of wine.
When the four got back to Eric and Miranda’s house, Eric shooed them out to prepare his feast. In the yard behind the house was a large wooden shack. Miranda led Jim and Connie inside. It was her pottery studio. Unfinished pots surrounded them, waiting for the kiln off towards the back to gain their gleam. In the center was her wheel and stool, clay and a bucket of water.
Miranda gave a full tour of the facilities, Connie asking many questions. What got Jim hard was the way Miranda looked at Connie. Jim could tell Miranda wanted his beautiful little vixen. He could see her awe when she looked at Connie’s face. He spotted the sly pleasure she took studying Connie’s stunning, sexy body. And her glances his way were warming up when she spotted his club. The wonderful day was looking to be a thrilling night.
“Show us how you make a pot,” said Connie excitedly.
“Eric will kill me if I…What the fuck.,” said Miranda as she hiked up her dress, plopped some clay on the wheel and sat wide legged on her stool. Connie and Jim sat across from her on the floor. Jim enjoyed the view of her strong thighs and he could see her white panties hiding her pussy. He saw the light of the room sparkle off the dampness of her loins, her nectar seeping elvankent escort through the crotch of her panties. When he looked up at her, she gave him a sexy smile. He had been found out. He gave her smile back, neither embarrassed nor leering, just warm.
She got into shaping the piece of clay into a bowl, dabbing her fingers occasionally in the water, which was white with sediment.
Connie was rocking back and forth with excitement. She was making Jim even more horny. He wanted her rocking on top of his lap, his cock embedded inside. When the clay became clearly a bowl, Connie said to Miranda, “Let me try.” Miranda smashed up her work to return it to a lump and added some more clay. “You didn’t have to…”
“It takes time to create a plate. I was just playing. Go ahead,” said Miranda. Connie took her place on the stool. Miranda showed her how to spin the table and how to form the clay. It was hands on instruction. Jim could see the amount of pleasure she took from each touch. Once Connie got a basic handle on forming the clay, Miranda kept close, rubbing herself subtly against Connie’s back.
Connie was thus made aware of Miranda’s attraction. She had never been with another woman sexually. She stiffened up a moment, sitting straight on her stool. Looking at Jim, though, she realized she was being silly. Jim was glazed, in a state of arousal. His legs were spread out on the floor to give the most room to his rising cock. She wanted to unzip, and open it up and give it a lick. Why couldn’t she? Propriety. She worked on the clay, proving her ineptness at it.
“It takes practice,” said Miranda hotly into Connie’s ear. “I’d love to teach you. You seem interested.”
“I’d love to throw pots,” Connie said unsteadily, not used to being seduced by another woman, or at least not when she felt she couldn’t snub the seduction.
“Center it more and go slower,” said Miranda when Connie’s creation flayed apart. Her hands held Connie’s in the cold soft clay, and she guided the shaping.
“Oh, okay,” Connie smiled. She worked it without Miranda’s guidance. She was having some success. “Honey, you want to try?”
When Jim took over, Miranda was not touching. He had seen and heard her instructions so he felt he could tackle it. It soon tackled him. The shape he had in mind was nothing like the mess he was making with his hands.
They heard the sound of a triangle being rung, a very pretty addition to the atmosphere along with the purpling air at dusk and the rolling hills filled with green flora and brown and white flashes of life, a rabbit rushing off, a deer shaking her tail. Dinnertime in Woodstock. They were filthy.
“Eric’s gonna kill me,” said Miranda. She was having fun with it. They walked into the house.
Eric looked at the three of them and laughed.
“It will keep. You guys shower,” he said.
Jim was the last to shower. He did what he could to clean up the mess they had left, but he was too anxious to continue the evening’s festivities to be thorough. He slipped his warm ups over his hard cock, and added nothing else to the wardrobe. He joined the feast, Connie waiting for him in his favorite nightie and Miranda looking scrumptious in warm ups and a t shirt, both a little too small on her. The t shirt pressed against her breasts, revealing how hard her nipples were. Jim briefly shut his eyes, envisioning the nipples and the large sensitive areola between his lips, tickled by his tongue.
“I feel a little overdressed,” said Eric in his casual slacks and Izod pullover shirt.
“You look good, Eric and so does the food,” said Miranda.
“Just a trick of the candles,” he said modestly in reference to the three candles being the only light on the table and night cloaking the colorful haze at sunset. A modest statement because the food not only smelled wonderful, it tasted good too. And the wine fit perfectly. The bottle was emptied by the end of the meal.
They chatted for awhile, until Connie’s beautiful face expanded in a yawn which proved infectious. “Been a long day,” she said. “Come on Jim,” taking his hand and leading him up the stairs.
Before they reached the top step, Jim stole under the hem of her nightie and began sliding his tongue up her inner thigh. She glanced down to see if they could be spotted. Propriety at the moment still reigned. They were out of sight. He slid his tongue inside her hot wet hole. She moaned. Her breath quickened as his tongue fucked her, first at the base of her pussy, taking quick side trips to her asshole. He continued sliding it in and out, moving towards the crest of her cunny lips and along her clit. She had kept the volume down, but when he touched her throbbing hard little piece of flesh, she let out a loud moan. She somehow quieted her moans, but her pleasure continued to build.
“Fuck me darling. Fuck me right here,” she breathed out through her sighs.
“Cum for me Connie. I want to taste your cum,” he said between licks, then attacked her full force with all the speed and energy he could command to send her over. She was getting awfully loud, which he allowed for as long as he could, tasting her cream pouring out of her, before swallowing her moans with his mouth, kissing her mouth, letting her taste her own cum, lifting her up and into the guest room.
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