An Afternoon with Carol and Charles (3)
I’ve been mulling over the best way of showing everyone that wants to see them the rather more ‘intimate’ photos, including those showing…
I’ve been mulling over the best way of showing everyone that wants to see them the rather more ‘intimate’ photos, including those showing Carol’s gorgeous face. It’s been pointed out to me that it is possible for people to drop in to my blog without membership, albeit on a restricted basis, and if I just put a link to Dropbox they would be able to access the photos without any problem. What I intend to do therefore is mail the link to anyone interested. If you are here via Buy me a Coffee you will get them automatically unless you write to say you don’t want them. If you are a member of Medium then please drop me an e-mail here Terri_Tops@mail.com and I’ll send the link and add you to the mailing list for future photos or videos. Sorry if this is all a bit convoluted, but it should help keep our privacy.
If you haven’t read Parts 1 and 2 I’d suggest you start here:
https://medium.com/@TracyTrouble/an-afternoon-with-carol-and-charles-7a55b0a57695
Amazing. Just amazing. An afternoon like no other. I’d had a shattering orgasm. I’d managed to tolerate a man in the same room as me and watch him wank off. I’d instigated my best friend's husband to pee on her. I’d drunk some of his piss and I’d given my friend head and brought her to a climax. Wow. Simply wow.
We were all shell-shocked I think. Carol and Charles had planned the first, that was clear. Getting me so horny that I wouldn’t scream the house down when Charlie wanked himself off in front of me. But pissing on his wife and me drinking his pee? That had been unexpected. For all of us! Unexpected, but welcome by the look of things. My friends sat together on the sofa, Carol’s head in Charles’s lap, him gently massaging a tit. Me, sitting on the floor, back resting against an armchair, wondering how on earth I had got to this. The enormity of what I’d done hadn’t sunk in. I’m still not sure that it has.
The one thing, the greatest thing, I’ve realised though is that I have no regrets about what I’d done. Not one iota. I know there’s no reason why I should have. It was all done with consent. We are all adults, (and then some!). But then in ‘polite’ society such behaviour would hardly be dinner table talk would it? Or perhaps it would. Perhaps I’ve led such a dull, sheltered existence that such going’s on are now common place? No. Don’t think so. And to be honest I hope they’re not. Half of the satisfaction from what I’d done was simply because it was so deviant. That I was being a pervert; degenerate. Is that normal? I don’t care if it is or not, I love the feeling.
I broke the silence which followed the golden shower episode. I had to ask. “You two, is that the first time you’ve played like that, with your pee?”
“Yes,” replied Carol, “all your fault.” Given her smile and tone, I knew the last thing she was thinking of was to blame me, but I was surprised. “You amaze me. You didn’t seem fazed at all.”
“Whereas you young lady have been doing it for how long?”
“Ah, yes. True.” I could recall the first time someone on Twitter had spoken about it, only a few short months ago. How I’d been unsure as to whether I’d find it sexy. How I’d tried it almost by accident while staying with my daughter ( https://medium.com/@TracyTrouble/an-evening-with-my-daughter-6a0cf0610712 ) and how I haven’t looked back. I was certainly making up for lost time. But that didn’t answer my question.
“Have you not even considered it before?” I asked. Carol glanced at Charles and it was he who answered.
“We’ve been married the best part of thirty-five years, had a good sex life-at least I like to think so-but after a while it becomes routine, like the rest of life, you get up, go to work, come home, go to bed, have sex etc. etc. You do what you did before. You know you enjoyed it so if it ain’t broke don’t fix it. That’s where we were. Our chats discussing how to help you never envisaged something like this. We didn’t know what your sexual appetite was, whether you were just off men because of him or whether you didn’t have an appetite for it at all. Your recent excursions with Carol rather show you did-do-so here we are. You led, we followed. The cost of getting in a professional carpet cleaner is a small price to pay for helping a friend.”
That must have been the longest speech I’d ever heard Charles make, certainly without interruption or prompting from Carol. A speech that went even further in convincing me my assumptions about this man had been wrong. I was tempted to kiss him. A friend's ‘thank you’ kiss, not an open mouth tongue lashing kiss, but I held back. There was still too much sexual electricity swirling around. Instead, I simply replied, “Thank you.” Not exactly a state of the union speech, but heartfelt!
“Unnecessary my dear,” Ah a bit of pomposity creeping back in. “We’re happy to help.”
“Just don’t get the idea, Charlie, I’m encouraging you to wank off in front of all my friends,” interjected Carol. “Perish the thought my dear, there’s not many of them I’d want to do it in front of anyway.” That extracted a quizzical look from his wife. “Mm, we’ll discuss that later.”
But I still needed to know. “If it’s the first time, did you enjoy it? Will you do it again?”
“The peeing? I’m not sure. How did you find it Charlie?”
“Horny, but then I was staying dry. I’d do it again, but how about you?”
“I was turned on by it, but I’m not sure if that’s because of our slutty friend here. I certainly enjoyed the last bit!”
I interjected. “How about if the roles were reversed? Carol peed on you Charles?” Or what I really wanted to know, “Or if you both peed on me?”
They looked at each other. “Can’t see a problem with the latter,” said Charles. “Nor me,” said Carol, “although we might be best doing it where we’re not rotting carpets. Likely to get expensive if we do that on a regular basis.”
A regular basis? Oh wouldn’t that be something? It’s Wednesday I’m off to C and Cs for my weekly pee shower!
My mind wandered. On the surface a typical Saturday afternoon. Old Friends chatting about friendship! Ha. Yeah, happens all the time. Drink friend's husband's piss then chat about golden showers. Sitting around naked. Everyday occurrence.
We gradually-we? I had no idea how horny the couple sitting opposite me felt-I gradually managed to get some semblance of control over my mind and body.
You’re probably fed up with me talking about my hang-up but it’s my blog so I will! Bear with me or go wait for the next episode! Next? Jeez, how can there be a next after this? Although inwardly I felt I’d made huge strides, if I was honest not much had changed. Yes, a man in my presence, feet away from me had cum. The vision itself was hardly a revelation. I’d watched a good number of followers do similar over my pictures, and that had helped tremendously. Baby steps and all that. To have gone straight from a frigid two years to watching my best friend’s husband spew semen all over their drawing room carpet would have been inconceivable. Having watched many of you do it over my photos made it a small (Small? Who am I kidding?) incremental step. For that, I’ll be eternally grateful. Thank you.
I wondered if that was it for the afternoon. If it was there was a sense of disappointment. What? How could I be disappointed with the last few hours? Because I was still simmering inside, that’s how. Still hot for more depravity but that was being greedy wasn’t it? Who wouldn’t stop there, sexually sated?
Luckily, Carol provided the perfect wind down (with a slight modification from me)
“Best you shower before you go Hun. You look as though you need it.”
“I think you’re right, thanks.” Then a thought. “Want to come and watch? You could take some piccies.”
So that’s what we did. A rerun of childhood. Parents watching their young daughter play in the shower. Well, not quite. My undies were a mess too, well saturated in various body fluids so I decided to short cut the washing process and stepped into the shower with them on. Closing my eyes enjoying the hot water spray over me, with my dear friends watching, imagining it was pee or even cum. At least I could fantasise about that now without freaking out.
What now? I’ve had a couple of days to cool down, to assess where I go. The answer is I remain unsure.
Whenever I gameplay meeting a man, having him touch me, my mind screams. That spider is huge. Eight hairy legs creeping towards me. Venom ready to strike. Eight hairy inches desperate to penetrate me. Semen ready to impregnate me. Oh dear. Anyone still reading?
I’ll stop and summarise. I’ve moved down the road. I’m travelling in the right direction. On my journey from Lands End to John o Goats I’m probably in Shropshire. (Get your atlas’s out if you need help in wondering what the hell I’m wittering about.)
Part of this wittering is because I’m deliriously happy. Wouldn’t you be if you’d had an afternoon like that? But it’s tempered with the knowledge I’ve a long way to go.
Hope you enjoyed my recounting my experience. On to the next. (Jane spoke to me at the weekend. I’m going round next Friday!) XXXX
