Read Online Sexual Solstice by Tracey B. Bradley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tracey B. Bradley
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take him? Did you ache to have him inside of you?” At this point Anthony bought his fingers closer up Gillian’s inner thighs. Henri slipped his hand into her blazer.
“Yes, and he massaged my breasts the way Henri is. He slipped his hand in my robe and massaged my breast. I couldn’t imagine though how he would fuck me with my cast on, just as I can’t imagine what we will manage here in your cockpit.” Gillian was dizzy with delight.
“And did he? Did he fuck you there in the hospital room? How could he do such a thing and take such advantage of someone just lying there. We’re you horny? You must have been so horny after days of lying and doing nothing but watching your intern come and go, take your pulse, put his stethoscope on your breast, I mean chest, and massage your shoulders with his big hands while his stethoscope dangled in your face.” At this point Anthony was rocking Gillian gently back and forth, he had pulled her panties towards him, and his fingers were now tickling her. “What did he smell like? Did he smell like a man? Was he nervous? Was he sweating? Were you torturing him? Were you being a cock tease?”
Henri ran his hands up Gillian’s neck and over her chin and she let her mouth open slightly to bite one of his fingers.
“He wanted so badly, so badly to fuck me, you know. Everyday when he came into my room I could see the outline of that massive dick and the big head, there in his scrubs practically down to his knee. And so finally, after days and days and days of this torture––for him as well as me––he locked the door. Then he took off his shirt revealing the hairy body I had imagined, and then he let me untie the drawstring of his scrubs” At this point Gillian was gasping, Henri had brought his hand down to Gillian’s thigh to join Anthony’s and now both men were rocking her gently, their fingers closer and closer to being inside of her––almost fighting to be the first inside of her. The idea of two different men touching her at the same time drove her wild, she imagined their fingers entwined and clutching one another and searching and moving to find her most pleasurable spots. She started to breathe deeply.
“Did his scrubs come off?” She heard Anthony say. “Did they fall to the floor? Did he have to struggle to pull them down, against his raging hard on? Was he in such a hurry to fuck you that he couldn’t get his pants off? Did he stumble and have to crawl on his knees to your bedside to pull himself up off the ground? Did he practically cum with desire before he was able to get to you?”
Gillian fell forward to find Anthony’s lips. She could endure this torture and apprehension no longer. The men’s fingers massaged her inside and out, the men’s fingers now jostling for space, one after the other, over and over, and then Anthony’s mouth found her trembling lips. She felt thrilled and a great sense of release as she admitted to herself that this pleasure wasn’t deserving of any guilt. She had done her time of abstinence and it was now time to make up for the abnormally long dry spell. Was she a slut? Of course not. A saint most likely, to have been as faithful as she had been while the world around her explored every facet of sexual pleasure. In this little space she wanted so much for the men to be rough with her, to grope and grab and writhe with a desire that would explode. And grope they did.
She heard the men’s belts, Henri’s at her side and Anthony in front, as they undid their buckles and opened their zippers. It was Henri’s turn now “Did he fuck you? Tell us. Did he fuck you?”
She whispered back, between breath and Anthony’s succulent mouth, “He did. He had trouble at first, with my cast, but he climbed on the bed and straddled my cast and then––”
“––then?”
“Then he tore open my gown and placed his hands on both my breasts.”
“Oh God. Oh God. Stand when you tell us the rest.”
“He um,” Gillian
“Yes, and he massaged my breasts the way Henri is. He slipped his hand in my robe and massaged my breast. I couldn’t imagine though how he would fuck me with my cast on, just as I can’t imagine what we will manage here in your cockpit.” Gillian was dizzy with delight.
“And did he? Did he fuck you there in the hospital room? How could he do such a thing and take such advantage of someone just lying there. We’re you horny? You must have been so horny after days of lying and doing nothing but watching your intern come and go, take your pulse, put his stethoscope on your breast, I mean chest, and massage your shoulders with his big hands while his stethoscope dangled in your face.” At this point Anthony was rocking Gillian gently back and forth, he had pulled her panties towards him, and his fingers were now tickling her. “What did he smell like? Did he smell like a man? Was he nervous? Was he sweating? Were you torturing him? Were you being a cock tease?”
Henri ran his hands up Gillian’s neck and over her chin and she let her mouth open slightly to bite one of his fingers.
“He wanted so badly, so badly to fuck me, you know. Everyday when he came into my room I could see the outline of that massive dick and the big head, there in his scrubs practically down to his knee. And so finally, after days and days and days of this torture––for him as well as me––he locked the door. Then he took off his shirt revealing the hairy body I had imagined, and then he let me untie the drawstring of his scrubs” At this point Gillian was gasping, Henri had brought his hand down to Gillian’s thigh to join Anthony’s and now both men were rocking her gently, their fingers closer and closer to being inside of her––almost fighting to be the first inside of her. The idea of two different men touching her at the same time drove her wild, she imagined their fingers entwined and clutching one another and searching and moving to find her most pleasurable spots. She started to breathe deeply.
“Did his scrubs come off?” She heard Anthony say. “Did they fall to the floor? Did he have to struggle to pull them down, against his raging hard on? Was he in such a hurry to fuck you that he couldn’t get his pants off? Did he stumble and have to crawl on his knees to your bedside to pull himself up off the ground? Did he practically cum with desire before he was able to get to you?”
Gillian fell forward to find Anthony’s lips. She could endure this torture and apprehension no longer. The men’s fingers massaged her inside and out, the men’s fingers now jostling for space, one after the other, over and over, and then Anthony’s mouth found her trembling lips. She felt thrilled and a great sense of release as she admitted to herself that this pleasure wasn’t deserving of any guilt. She had done her time of abstinence and it was now time to make up for the abnormally long dry spell. Was she a slut? Of course not. A saint most likely, to have been as faithful as she had been while the world around her explored every facet of sexual pleasure. In this little space she wanted so much for the men to be rough with her, to grope and grab and writhe with a desire that would explode. And grope they did.
She heard the men’s belts, Henri’s at her side and Anthony in front, as they undid their buckles and opened their zippers. It was Henri’s turn now “Did he fuck you? Tell us. Did he fuck you?”
She whispered back, between breath and Anthony’s succulent mouth, “He did. He had trouble at first, with my cast, but he climbed on the bed and straddled my cast and then––”
“––then?”
“Then he tore open my gown and placed his hands on both my breasts.”
“Oh God. Oh God. Stand when you tell us the rest.”
“He um,” Gillian
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