Chapter 12C

I massaged lotion into Martha's arms and shoulders, my strokes growing slower and more sensuous to test Martha's state of mind -whatever the hell that might be at this point -- and moved tentatively to the swell of her breasts and then between them for a while, and then to her tummy, and down the tops of her thighs. Martha closed her eyes and I asked, "Okay?" and she said, "Hm. Take your time, hon." I got more lotion and massaged along the tops of her thighs and calves, and then lightly along the inside of her thighs. I began to let my hands pause, enjoying the feel of the soft, muscular flesh of her upper thighs, and to my surprise she allowed her legs to part a little, suggestively, and as I stroked a little higher her legs parted more. I surveyed her face; eyes closed, she seemed unruffled. I paused to take a breath; what did she want next? I felt Ronnie behind me, unmoving but watching.

Martha said, her eyes still closed, "Get a little more lotion. Rub it in here..." She flitted her fingers across her upper bosom and said, "I tend to peel right along here." I said okay and turned around a little to grab the lotion bottle, my eyes falling on Ronnie's. She sat on folded legs behind me, near my left shoulder and near Martha's head, leaning on one arm, and she gave me a weak little hello smile; her face was placid, framed with wisps of black, curly hair, but there was something in her dark eyes, those blue, slightly narrowed, waiting eyes, shadowy, watching, simmering.

I turned back to Martha and laid my lotion soaked palms onto her chest, just above her breasts, and then rubbed in small circles. Then soft strokes downward, and then around her breasts briefly, and then under them; and finally, in a move that I thought might be a mild revenge for her torturing me, I began to caress her breasts in slow circles. But she lay motionless. I waited. Then I covered her breasts with my palms, feeling hard nipples push up against my skin. My hands rested there. No one made a move. I reached behind me and grabbed the lotion bottle and wetted my fingers and then with my fingertips I began to rub her nipples, and then rolled them between my fingers, and she gave a lazy sigh. I'd intended to tease her the way they had teased me; but instead of getting nervous she enjoyed it, a smile stealing across her face. So, I thought, this wasn't daringly teasing enough for either of them. I teased her nipples for another long moment, seeing and feeling them stiffen, and then I let my hands trickle lightly down her tummy and down the top of her right thigh, and then teased back and forth, back and forth, and then I stroked her inner thighs again. Martha opened her eyes, smiling sleepily, and I smiled back, and her eyes closed again and she lay smiling while I stroked higher along her thighs. This went on for a long moment. Martha's breathing was irregular now and then, her thighs parting minutely but visibly, her pussy rising toward my hand as I veered closer and withdrew. When I finally got up my nerve and let my little finger venture far enough to graze the wet edge of her outer lips, she whispered a soft but anxious "Yes" and I withdrew the finger and let my palm rest flat and high on the inside of her right thigh. I heard a rustling behind me and a chill went up my spine when I realized that Ronnie, who had been sitting and watching behind me and to my left near Martha's shoulders, was now settling closer to me, on her side, her legs extended along mine; and I felt her soft, warm, supple torso rest against my back. A nipple flattened against me, and she let herself relax against me with her head on my shoulder and one hand resting lightly on my thigh. She just watched, her head motionless on the back of my shoulder. I kept my palm on Martha's thigh and I waited, calming her as well as myself. After a minute I slid my palm higher, spreading my fingers, and I lifted my little finger and let the finger's nail make a sneaky, wide circle on her, touching the edge of her pubic swell. I did that for a moment, watching her closed eyes as she lifted her chin a little and swallowed. And I felt Ronnie watching silently.

My cock started hardening again, prompting me to initiate another pause, so I removed my hand from Martha's thigh and placed it on her waist. But she opened her eyes and gazed at mine, her auburn curls falling across her forehead, and after a second she gently removed my hand from her waist and placed it back where it had been, high on the inside of her thigh, and still looking at me she parted her legs a little wider. And I thought: Is she serious? Are they both serious? So much for thinking this was just a tease-Steven game. I tested my hypothesis and I tested Ronnie's part in this game by caressing in a slow, up-and-down line that inched higher on Martha's thigh and then along the edge of her mound, barely grazing it. I rested my hand on her tummy, just above her bush. She looked at me, waiting. I was still unsure, and after a few seconds Martha must have seen my uncertainty; still watching my eyes, she took my hand and slowly placed my palm directly onto her auburn tuft. She caressed my hand with hers briefly, then raised her arm and draped it behind her head. Again, she waited, her gray-green eyes patient.

I wondered about Ronnie. But Ronnie didn't make a sound or a move. I knew she watching, and I knew that Martha knew she watching, and yet Martha had placed my hand on her warm pubic thatch. My head was swimming. The flood of giddy, excited blood that hazed my brain began a swift and direct path to my penis. I was getting really hard and I knew Ronnie could see. But it was obvious now that the way was clear, that what I thought might be happening was possibly, probably, actually happening. The room was very quiet, so quiet one could feel and taste it. I allowed my palm to stray farther, downward, millimeters from Martha's treasure. Her eyes narrowed. It seemed, for a very brief moment, that Ronnie stopped breathing; I felt the sensation of tension from her. Certainly, I could tell that the single nipple Ronnie pressed against my back had stiffened. I saw Martha waiting and I figured, by now, that Ronnie knew what was happening. I lowered my palm to Martha's mound and, gently, I pressed down on her and felt moisture at the heel of my palm. Martha's eyes narrowed more, and she gave a slight nod of her head. I made several slow, deliberately inconclusive circles on her, and her eyes soon closed, and she let a quiet, pleasurable breath leave her, and her legs slowly parted. Now her legs were open wide, inviting me, and my palm felt her pussy widen. Then my brain nearly exploded when I felt Ronnie's hand, motionless for so long on my thigh, begin to caress my leg with a slow, almost imperceptible movement. This went on for while as I rubbed Martha's sex with my palm. Then I felt Ronnie's hand stop. She pulled away from me, moving very carefully as if she did not want to disturb anything, and I thought I heard the sound of rustling cloth behind me. And I thought: Hell, that's the end of it.

But then I heard Ronnie whisper, "Shh. Don't move, you two."

Martha said quietly, "Ron?"

Ronnie whispered, "Just getting more comfortable." Her words were casual, but as she kept talking her whisper became clandestine, secretive. "It's so quiet now. And very dark outside... and his skin feels so nice..." She added with a softer, clearly sexy whisper, "And we have plenty of time." I saw the light purple robe she had been wearing get tossed past us, onto the floor.

Behind me, in one careful motion, she returned to her position against my back, but now she was naked, stretching fully beside me, her legs alongside mine. I looked at Martha, who simply looked back as before, patiently. Then I felt Ronnie's head near mine, her lips near my right ear, and she touched my shoulder and whispered, "I'm okay." She leaned into my back again, the fingertips of one hand settling gently and delicately on my shoulder, and I turned a little to glance at her, and she gave me a small, assuring smile, her eyelids lowered and her eyes glancing first at mine, and then at my mouth, and she whispered again, "I'm okay."

I looked down at Martha's flat tummy and spread legs and at my palm covering her pussy. I pressed gently again, making a small circle on her, and another, and then started a slow rhythm of pressing and circling. Another soft breath slowly left her, and her eyes closed again, and she whispered, "Good, Steven." While I massaged Martha's mound I was surprised to feel a new sensation on my shoulder; Ronnie touched her lips to the taut flesh on my shoulder's ridge and let them linger there, then she whispered into my ear, "Did you like that?" I nodded. I murmured, "Mm. Nice lips." Looking back at Martha, I saw her eye me slyly before she closed her eyes again. I continued massaging her, feeling her slit wider and wetter under my palm. In the flickering light I saw Ronnie rest a hand on my thigh just above my knee. It was an electric sensation; she did not rest her palm on me, but propped her fingers on her long nails against my flesh. More blood rushed to my cock; I could the feel the blood flow as clearly as I could feel the slight pressure of her nails. I bent down to plant a soft kiss on one of Martha's nipples, and Martha sighed quietly and then I kissed the second nipple and gave it a brief suck and Martha sighed again, almost inaudibly. I raised my head and watched her, holding my hand still for a moment. I turned my hand around, palm down, my fingers toward her opening. Her closed eyes winced mildly, tensing, and she whispered, "Yes." Gently, I cupped Martha's mound, my fingers pointing downward, and I pressed my palm into her and made a slow circle, then another, and then I bent my middle finger and probed past her thick, wet labia and her breath wobbled as my finger slowly entered, easily, and her wet flesh closed around it. I held my finger still, letting her get used to it (and letting my very excited, sensitized finger get used to it). When her cunt relaxed, my finger searched for and found the secret spot inside her and pressed and massaged it. Her knees rose a bit, letting her thighs fall open farther until the tendons lengthened visibly, and her head went back into the floor a little and she breathed, "Mmm" and I massaged her secret, internal place for a moment until I felt her cunt clenching again. I withdrew my finger and touched her clit lightly and made a small circle on it, and she let a quick breath of pleasure escape. I inserted my finger again. Then, very slowly, I slid my finger in and out, in and out, and then I withdrew as if in slow motion and made a circle on her clit again, and another, and then I inserted my finger again and, slowly I let my middle finger fuck her. Martha swallowed hard, gave a quiet "Oh," and her head leaned back a little farther into the floor.

I heard Ronnie breathe behind me and for a while the only sound in the room was the two women breathing while I fingerfucked Martha. Then Ronnie, leaning a little more into me, snaked her arm around my thigh and let her palm trace a light path across my tummy, and she briefly let her palm rest on my stomach. Then with two fingers she reached up and held my cock, and squeezed once. I gasped. Against my ear, Ronnie's soft, throaty voice whispered, "You all right?" I let a out a whoosh of air and whispered back, "Careful," and she whispered, "Okay." I continued letting my finger leisurely fuck Martha's very wet opening, and after a few strokes she opened her eyes and smiled at me and looked down to watch Ronnie's two fingers on my cock. Then Ronnie's other three fingers closed on me, holding me loosely. Just as I was recovering from Ronnie's initial touch, Ronnie lifted the index finger of her hand and dipped it into the dew on my tip. I saw Martha grin down at Ronnie's hand on me, and I felt Ronnie grin against my shoulder. Had it not been for Martha's exhausting blowjob so recently, I would have sprayed the ceiling with cum.

Martha reached down to still my hand on her. She looked at me and bit her lower lip and whispered, "Not yet." Gripping my hand, she swallowed and relaxed with a long breath and repeated, "Not yet." She grinned, blushing, and said, "You learn fast," and Ronnie whispered at my ear, her voice breathy and thick, "Yes, he does." Martha glanced past me at Ronnie and asked, "Ronnie?" Ronnie raised her head from my shoulder and said, "Me, now?" Martha joked, "Well, now that we made Steven look ridiculous, and we made me look ridiculous..." Ronnie let go of my cock and said, "Well, then, making *me* look ridiculous won't be such a stretch." She sat up so I could move around.

I withdrew from Martha, embarrassed as I swished my wet finger dry against my hip, and turned to Ronnie. She scooted back to give me room to turn around, and I saw her trade a furtive glance with Martha. Ronnie lay back with one arm draped over her forehead and the other across her smooth tummy and hip bones. She had a languid look on her face, her eyes sleepily voluptuous, and I smiled back bashfully when I saw her eyes glance at my bobbing cock as I turned toward her. I shifted to my other side and made a big show of wetting my hands with lotion, noticing that they trembled slightly. I hoped the others didn't see. I knew, of course, what was happening. What was happening, I was certain, was that I was still napping under the sun on Fire Island and that this was a dream. I would wake and the ocean would be there and Martha and Ronnie would be sleeping on their towels, both in their swimsuits and me in my cutoffs. That's what my shaky hands and swirling brain told me was surely, surely happening. Martha rolled onto her side and leaned on one elbow and watched me put my lotioned hands on each side of Ronnie's lower ribcage. I held my palms still on Ronnie, letting her body get used to my hands and letting my hands enjoy the luxurious feel of her sinuous torso, of creamy skin like thin silk over an inner Ronnie.

Hesitantly, I spread lotion on her sides and waist. Did she want what I had just given Martha? How far was I supposed to go? My shaft settled against Ronnie's thigh and throbbed once against her soft heat. My hands felt the sensations of a new, different female body, a body even softer and warmer than Martha's. Ronnie's warm flesh felt less substantial and not as firm as Martha's but was tempting nevertheless, baby-soft skin overlaying a firmness underneath, skin that seemed to melt under my hand and cling to my palm. I rubbed lotion into her shoulders and gradually extended the length of my strokes downward, approaching her breasts, softly swollen globes sloping a little to each side as they rested on her supple flesh. I massaged around them, quickly lotioning her tummy and hips. Then I got more lotion on my hands and rubbed it into the length of one leg, slowing to a brief caress as the stuff soaked in, and then I wet my hands and finished the other leg in the same way. Then I wet my hands again and watched her relaxed face and closed eyes as I caressed the swells of her breasts again, slowly. She kept her eyes closed sleepily. With both hands I stroked her breasts lightly, top to bottom, and searched her face. She made no move. Keeping my eyes on her face, I covered her attractive melons with my palms. Eyes still closed, she gave no sign of either resistance or pleasure. I kneaded her titties gently, then began a slow, circular massage. Still, no reaction. Behind me, Martha slowly moved and settled on her legs beside me, then leaned against me and watched. Getting no reaction from Ronnie either way, I wondered if she were just more moderate in her responses than Martha or if I simply used a boring technique. It occurred to me that Ronnie's body and reactions were entirely new to me; I'd have to learn about her from scratch.

I stopped massaging and let my palms rest on her. I waited a bit, then I let my fingers slide off her tits and decided to use a single hand for a while. But where to start? Ribs and sides were too ticklish, I guessed. My eyes settled on her long, smooth, soft neck. The vague shadow of a vein was visible along one side of its length. I placed my fingers there, mid-neck, and let them rest a moment, and barley touching her skin I let my fingers slowly trace down, following the vein's path toward her prominent collarbone, the bone made more obvious because her arm on her opposite side was stretched over her forehead, and I let my fingers travel smoothly and slowly down her neck and over the clavicle, inching downward, straight toward a distant nipple but stopping short of her breast. Then I repeated the motion, starting mid-neck and taking the same route. Sure enough, as my fingers unhurriedly approached her breast I saw her gulp. My fingertips had not yet reached her tit. I paused. Then I lifted my hands and placed my fingertips on her neck again and let them trace the same path again, even more slowly and lightly, and drew them past the clavicle and then very slowly down to the breast and straight down the center of it, aiming for her stiff nipple, slowing more, and then avoiding the nipple and curving around and under the soft tit's gentle swell. I saw the barely visible, fine hairlets rise on her arm, and I thought: pay dirt! I let my tips rest beneath her nipple, and then I removed my hand and reached for the lotion and wet my fingertips a little and then I used my wet fingertips to start at the clavicle just above her other breast. I lightly caressed downward toward her breast and then onto the breast, and then toward the nipple, but then I curved around and made a wet, sliding circle around it, and then around it again, and then I lightly spread the remaining lotion around and around on the swell under her nipple. I was rewarded with the sight of her dark nipple swelling slightly but visibly. I let a single fingertip circle languidly just under the nipple, not touching it, until my finger felt dry. Then I removed my hand and got the lotion bottle, seeing Martha beside me give me a furtive smirk. I wet the fingertips of one hand and held the hand over Ronnie's swollen tit and let the fingertips settle onto the breast, the standing fingers forming a wide circle around the darkly tipped swell, but not touching the raisin-like nipple. Then I softly drew my wet fingers closer together, not squeezing, but gliding closer on the swell until they made a smaller circle around the brownish aureole, leaving the nipple untouched and in suspense, and several times I made this gentle, nearly milking motion on her, and I saw her throat swallow again, and I felt Martha nod approvingly beside me. And then I gently brought my fingers closer together until they surrounded the nipple, nearly touching, and I paused. I looked at her face and saw that she was holding her breath. Then I let my still wet fingers close on the nipple, drawing the nipple into them, and I held the captured nipple still, and I heard her exhale, long and slow, and I knew I was on the right track. I removed my fingers and got the lotion bottle, and Martha watched me, smiling, her smile and her smoky eyes looking pleased with the results. I wet the tips of both fingers and made cones of them and placed both my hands over Ronnie's breasts and at the same time I performed the caressing, milking motion, not touching her nipples yet. I took my time, letting both fingers learn the shape and feel of Ronnie's globes; they sloped lower than Martha's and were less solidly round, but Ronnie's were more yielding and puffy and moist. They were truly touchable tits. Martha leaned her head against my arm and softly ran her palm up and down it as she watched. Then, while my fingertips were still slightly wet I let my fingers close the circle, capturing each nipple, and then I closed the wet fingertip cones around her nipples and gently squeezed and pulled, with a slow rhythm. Her neck tensed.