Sleepover, Part 5
The girls had bruised and battered pussies after the mornings horse riding. They both lay on the bed while Helen and I rubbed ointment on them. I was dealing with Chloe, she looked so sad, she was lay there with her legs spread wide, but instead of the usual 'fuck me mummy' expression that I was used to, there were big sad eyes, with tears welling in them. She cringed as I caressed her sore little pussy and Zoe was fairing no better at the hands of Helen. We knew when we saw their cute little bums sliding and bumping up and down on them saddles, that their little ten year old bums wouldn't be able to take it for long, and that was before the urgent, and insatiable sexual attentions of Julie the stable girl.
We decided between us to take a trip to the local pool, it would be more hygienic and safer than the sea. We thought that the cold water and the exercise of swimming would be good for all of us, but especially the girls. It would help to take some of the discomfort out of their bruises. I confess that little girls in shiny wet costumes is still one of my favourite sights. The one piece Lycra that takes their shape and teases my senses.
The back of 'Doggie', as the girls had called the van, was still kitted out with four sleeping bags, we haven't needed them in the caravan. The two little invalids now settled into there softness. They curled up together in mutual sympathy, kissing each other better. The trip to the pool was not a long one, but by then, the girls getting out of the back, were like two little old ladies.
The pool advertised water slides and a wave machine, but it was the whirlpool that the girls made a beeline for. Once in there, you couldn't have prized them out with a stick. They settled into its waters and lay back. Their facial expressions showed the sheer pleasure it gave them, some of it medicinal but most of it was purely sexual. Their pussies reacted to the tender, feather like touch of the bubbles. Anyone that knew them would know the signs, they held each others hands with white knuckles, their little thighs invisibly quivering under the foaming waters as they orgasmed together, again and again.
A large black woman in a brightly coloured one piece costume, approached the whirlpool. “Will you look after my girls while I take a swim?” she asked. “Yes, of course,” said Chloe. The girls holding the woman's hands looked like twins about five or six years old. They had curly black hair and beautiful deep brown bodies. She lowered each of them in turn to Chloe and Zoe who sat them onto their laps. The woman waddled off towards the main pool. The softness and warmth of the little bodies stirred the girls pussies. They looked at each other as temptation grew stronger and stronger. They nodded a silent agreement to each other.
Chloe took the initiative with the girl she had in her charge. She slipped a hand under the water and caressed the girls lower belly. As she got braver, she slipped her hand down to the very young pussy and played with it through the Lycra. The girl wriggled but did not pull way. After a couple of minutes the girl turned round and straggled Chloe's lap with a misty, starry eyed look and sat down pressed her pussy close to Chloe's. This encouraged Zoe to follow Chloe's example with the other girl. Straggling Chloe had the effect of spreading the podgy little legs wide apart as the girl sat down. This allowed easier access to her pussy. Chloe, and closely copied by Zoe, slipped her fingers into the elastic of the costume and gently played with the little slit. The girl shook and with her eyes misted over and her little mouth pouting, she put her arms around Chloe's neck and hugged her close. She shuddered as the thrills ran through the little tummy and pussy and spread out throughout her body. There was then a sudden warmth as the girl passed her hot urine all over her.
The mother returned, thanked them and lifted the girls out of the water. As they walked away the little girls turned and waved back to them smiling sweetly. They trotted to keep up with their mother, their costumes still gathered up the crease of their bums.
Helen and I had been swimming, her lovely sleeky, costume clad body, wet and dripping, the water running off her body and appearing to run from her pussy was all too much for me. She stood at the edge of the pool looking down at me. Her blond hair was tied in a pony tail. She was without a hint of make up, just the steely blue eyes, the years seemed to fall from her face, she looked fresh, youthful and ripe, I wanted her with ever nerve ending.
She walked, attracting the lustful eyes of men, boys and most women. I swam along the side the pool and up to the steps. As I climbed the steps, she took my hand for a moment, a moment long enough to say, hands off she is mine. I was so proud of her. We walked around the pool. Heads turned and eyes followed us, I felt like a film star.
We joined the girls in the whirlpool and sank into its sexually charged waters. The girls came across to us and settled onto our laps, something had aroused them and, now, even through a layer of silky smooth Lycra, the girls worked their magic on us. Helen and I just held on to each other, each of us with a little hand, invisible to all those who looked on, hidden by the foaming water, working our pussies until they erupted into the surrounding turbulence. The girls had whispered in our ears. Their hot breath as they told us about the little black girls, accelerated us to our climax. The pool was part of a much larger leisure complex, there were many lovely young attractions. I felt sure we would be back before this holiday was over..
We were all tired as we drove back home to the caravan, the meal was a light one of sandwiches, mostly because no one could be bothered to cook anything. The girls were still sore, but less so than this morning. During the evening the girls gave us a more detailed account of what happened with the stable girl.
“She was weird,” said Zoe, “she went from being the strong eighteen year old we saw in the yard, to this mad, weird little girl, and then to an even more mad sexual animal.” “Yes,” said Chloe, “ it really started when I had a wee. She stood there just staring at my pussy, she watched my flow. She was clearly turned on by it. She snapped when Zoe was touching her up. She came at me like an animal. She didn't just lick me and suck at my pussy. She bit me, she forced her tongue up my bum and up my cunt. She nibbled at me and was able to make her tongue solid and hard and she then fucked me with it.” “Yes,” she Zoe, “I was fucking her from the rear, her cunt took my fist with ease. She had these criss cross bruises on her bum and on her pussy. When I saw Chloe reacting to her violence, I started to slap her, but it just made her worse. When she did orgasm, she through her head back and screamed like an injured animal.”
“Things got better then, after that first climax,” said Chloe. “She wanted more and more, but it was more gentle. She took care to give pleasure as well as orgasming repeatedly herself.” “ And then,” said Zoe, “She turned back again and became the strong confident woman we saw in the yard. She then gave us a punishing ride all over the beach, riding up to us and whipping the ponies on, with her crop. We held on for dear life and were never more relieved to see the yard.” “Why didn't you tell us this at the time?” Helen said with a flash of anger, “I would have nailed her arse.” “I think someone has beaten you to that job,” said Zoe.
We retired to bed confident that we would, at last, get the quite loving night together that we have been trying to organise ever since we arrived in Devon. My growing love for Helen has not, in any way, reduced my love or my longing for my little Chloe. I will love and want her as long as I have breath. Having said that, there is an itch, a longing that only grown up love will satisfy. We said good night to the girls and went to our room.
We had made it a special occasion. We had dressed up in our best and sexiest nightwear. We kissed and slowly unwrapped each other. The door opened and the girls burst in, each one wearing a strap-on. “Its party time,” they shouted. We grabbed them and threw them down onto the bed. We attacked them with a tickling fight. They squealed with laughter as they battled to avoid the tickles. Their plastic dicks waved in the air as the squirmed and wriggled.
As the laughter subsided, I looked at Helen and said, “Oh well, if you can't beat them...”
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