"Rene and Ruth Redecorate My Life, Part One" by Jay Roberts Bi Encounters
Oh my, surely there can't be anything in this title
that might temp any youngsters of less than 18
to read this rated XXX story, at least not in the
title, but hidden inside is the awful truth: a porno
story, and if that isn't bad enough, it has sex, and
if that isn't bad enough, sex with males on males. `` Please save your innocence and come back when
you are over 18.
I am Reed Thomas. I am thirty years old this week. You've heard the claim that "I look much younger." No kidding, I do. With my dark curly hair and blue innocent eyes (they lie), I could easily pass for 22.
Okay. I am young and I blushingly admit that I am handsome as well built. Add to that, I am a stockbroker with Early-Fitz. In fact, I am the leading producing of sales. Add to that, I get laid a few times a week and twice on Saturday night.
Oh my goodness! It is the rollicking life of a bachelor, what with parties to make the clients happy, as well as Jeff Fitz, my boss, it's fun, fun, fun. Is there anything in this mix for me to complain about? Well, there is one thing, and you will probably smack me for even mentioning it, but with my six-figure salary, I am still living like a college boy in a bad neighborhood, in a cramped studio. When the time I loaned my door key to Jeff to take a hot girl up to my place turned out to be a shock for him. "It's a rat hole! A guy in your position should be ashamed."
I told him that I practically never take girls up there. "It's their place or a hotel."
He dismissed my excuse with a shrug and rifled around in his six-foot desk, in his 40 square foot office. "Here it is, Rene & Ruth, Interior Designers. These two honeys are geniuses. They can find you the place and then outfit it with more ‚lan that you could ever summon up. And, get yourself some decent clothes. You're a disaster."
So you see, success brings new requirements. I was glad he didn't say anything about my old brown, scuffed shoes, or my oxford blue shirt I have worn since 18 with the elbows patched.
I phoned these paragons of class. Whoa, she had the kind of voice that raises my interest and my cock. It was husky and dark and wet. "Yes Reed, Jeff told me to expect your call, Rene and I are ready to come up when you tell us a time and day."
Our first "rough" (as she referred to it. I'm ready rough.) go over. The appointment was here in my hovel (we want to see you in your lair) at 8PM, next day.
At exactly 8PM the next day, there was a knock on the door. They tumbled in, breathless, as all my guests are having climbed four flights.
My mouth gaped at their appearance. They looked more like brother and sister, even twins, except they were husband and wife. This was not a case of getting to look like each other from living together. No, they told me that they had been married only a year ago. They were short, perhaps five feet plus an inch...maybe. They shared elfin features, almost like those Johnson Syndrome kids, you know large smiling mouths, Charlie McCarthy turned up noses, but their voices didn't go with their childlike appearance. As I said earlier, hers was smoky. His was bassy. In fact, when he spoke, my chest seemed to set up sympathetic vibrations.
They were dressed similarly, black tight trousers, white silk shirts and shiny pattern leather shoes, hers with high heels.
"May we sit down?" That was his voice. Neither actually greeted me, so I went from one to the other shaking hands. Their hands were small...and cold.
She opened a large portfolio. "To save time, let me say that with Jeff's help and some investigation, we have a pretty detailed picture of you and your life. I would sum you up as a pleasant boy, rather bland, not bad looking, if you go for the boy-next-door type, and agreeable, but the kicker in the glass of champagne is that you are a great lover. We got this from discrete inquiries at Legends Bar, from the ladies who drink there. This knowledge about you is the reason you are so successful in hooking up with girls. It isn't your boyish charm, but your boyish cock, and the way you use it that gets them off with certainty. How did you learn this trick?"
"I, um, I don't have any special knowledge. I guess it's just pretty thick and that...maybe..."
"Okay Reed," said Rene, "Ruth will let up on you, at least for awhile."
He stared at me intently. "Hmm, nice face, good skin, the curls have to be tamed and...are you hairy on your body?"
I felt I was being questioned by a doctor. "Well I have a light amount on my chest. My legs and arms are covered with fine hair and of course the usual other places."
Ruth cooed. "No more of those questions. We'll see for ourselves soon. Now look at these sketches. Jeff has already seen them and he is enthusiastic. We see you are a bit colorless, so to make you appear vibrant in your home setting, we have designed gray, black and white for the colors. Walls gray paper with nap, floors checkerboard black and white with black fuzzy throw rugs, couches of gray wool with cushions, with bold patterns in black and white. You know, black is the new, er,,,"
Rene rumpled with a smile, "Black!"
Rene said, "Wait until you see the apartment we have found for you. Of course you have the last word. It runs about $3500 per month. We know you can handle that. Yeah, you earn over hundred, but you will be doubling that in a year or so..."
"And your private investment portfolio," that was Ruth speaking. "You sly puss, it is at a mil and a half and growing. This apartment is well within your means now. Later you may want to splurge for a condo or coop."
My head was whirling. I was always conservative. I could see that these elves, these gamins would see that I spend my old age in penury. But it felt good to spend with a what the hell attitude.
Rene was saying, "I have to go and check out the apartment. The former tenants have left and I can take my time. Incidentally, it is not large. There are three bedrooms and two baths. Living room and dining room combination, but that is large. I believe one bedroom, the smaller one could be your computer and music room. (I heard you play classical guitar.) One bedroom for guests, and you'll have plenty. The other one for you, done very masculine. You'll get a hard on just sleeping in it."
He waved goodbye and left. I locked the door. Why? I don't know. Just a habit when a girl was there. Cutey Ruth was mixing cocktails in the part of the room designated as a kitchen. "Martinis?" I said yes because that was the only stuff I had.
She came out, or rather oozed out. She had opened three buttons on her blouse and held a drink in each hand. "This one's yours."
Now why didn't I take the other one, like they do in murder stories? I am so dumb. Anyway we sipped our drinks. It was mixed well, and then a strange thing happened. It was like the film in a movie suddenly speeded up in parts, then slowed down. In this case, when it returned to normal, I was on my back, naked, and Ruth's sweet baby legs were on each side of my cheeks (face cheeks, that is.) Her pussy was hovering just above my mouth and my tongue was sticking out and approaching her labia. She was moaning in advance.
Now a moment to instruct: I am the best cunt licker you will ever find. This isn't boasting. It's something you are born with. I can get a girl off faster than a vibrator. How? What's the trick? I'll tell you, but don't let it get around too much, otherwise I'll loose my monopoly. The secret is not to do what most guys do, make their tongue, a muscle, into a small prick and jab it at the tiny penis like structure just inside those luscious lips. No, you must lap. Lap like a cat drinking milk. And the lapping has to the maddeningly rhythmic. Lap, lap, lap. If necessary for a long time. She will find immediately that she trusts your tongue and allows herself to start on a long pleasant trip with a destination that is paradise. She will feel comfortable enough to make sounds, and when the moment comes...well, let's get back to Ruth.
Ruth's cunt tasted like earthy honey. My tongue is long and it is just inside, seeking that tiny erectile bump that will open up, and out will come the little rod. She was already making humming sounds, a good sign. As my tongue gently began it's soft travel up and down, her murmuring changes to soft vocalized ah's. If you listen to the pitch, you can tell which action you take has the greatest effect. The sounds will go higher if you on the right track. They will gradually get louder as the train is close to the station. The station is orgasm. She was now moaning in pleasure. I was with her all the way. As her pleasure increased, my body followed along. If you think giving a girl head is a one-sided thing, you will never succeed Right now my cock was buzzing and I was breathing hard. Suddenly, all my good work has come to fruition, she squeaks many times, her legs press almost painfully against my ears, her body makes light pumping motions and sweat breaks out on her upper legs and breasts. She has arrived at the station. She is in full orgasm. Your tongue is the most beloved object on Earth. You fight not to cum yourself.
Then that damn movie skidded and began again. It was dark now. Hours must have passed. What was in that drink?
I love giving head. This was one of the best times I ever had.
Suddenly, someone must have turned on the lights in the room. I was still naked and below me was cute Ruth, her small, perfect, pouty breasts yearning to be fondled...or licked. I was still in a suspended pitch of sexual need. I softly flicked her nipples. Ruthie liked it. She found her song again and was humming it tunelessly. A gentle squeeze on each breast was accepted enthusiastically. To reward me, or to satisfy her yearning, she reached down and took my large penis in her hand and steered it into her pier for large ships. I slipped in rubbing against the corrugated sides of her vagina. That was nice. She thought so too, because her legs began trembling.
My fuck trick is to make my mind think that I have no appointment. There is no rush. Luxuriate in the fuck. Slide in and out, in and out, no banging against bone. As she steps daintily along the path to a crashing cum, you do nothing to make her lose her way. As she begins to push against you harder, her body is telling you to fuck harder. Well the whole thing was going nicely. I'd say Ruth was about half way to heaven when something strange happened. Something new. It was happening to me. It felt so good I was in no mood to complain.
I heard a soft baritone murmur behind my ass; the ass that was easily accessible as I fucked. The party behind me, Rene of course, was there. I backward glance saw that he was naked. I guess he slipped in quietly, back from his errand, undressed and got to work driving me crazy with sensation.
The boy/man knew his job. That wet, hot, pulsing tongue was sliding in and out of my ass hole. Was I getting fucked by that tongue? No doubt, but a forgot all about gay or not gay, I just loved every minute. I pushed my needy ass back to get more, then I had to shove it forward keep Ruth happy. I wasn't complaining about this job. My cock was tingling. I was near cumming from her delicious cunt and behind me, the expert tongue-fucker was assaulting my prostate.
But pig that I am, I wanted more. He knew it. He was an experienced male virgin deflowerer. He slapped one of my toned ass cheeks. He hit it hard. "You want my cock in you?" he rumbled, out of breath, himself.
"Do it, you fucking hot redecorator. Redo my ass and get to it now, before I go crazy."
He laughed out loud, a kind of operatic laugh. HO HO HO. In a moment his prick was traveling up my chute. My ass hole was spinning, my hot button was sending urgent messages to my cock. I couldn't hold on. I stiffened and shouted, my cock became a fire hose. I sprayed hot lava inside Ruth's cooch. She felt it and howled a loud cum song. Her ass wiggled up and down as she was off into her wild orgasm. Rene felt my ass ring vibrating and that was all it took. His cock grew twice the size, at least the head did, and he unloaded about a quart of high grade A cream in me.
Then came that film skip again. I was dressed in my grungy clothes and sucking on a cigarette. How did I get like that? My old worn couch felt like familiar territory, but the rest was fantastical. The two chatted with me, la-de-dah, like nothing had occurred. Maybe I dreamed it. But no, my balls were feeling drained. That was no dream.
"Shall we taxi over to your new apartment?" Ruth said sweetly, as Rene helped her on with her wrap. Wrap? Shit, I'm talking like they do. Will shoes be footwear and pants, trousers? Will I have to lift my pinky when I drink beer?
End Part One
In Part Two you will get a peek into the new life designed for our hero.