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WARNING: This story may depict sexual activity of fictional beings, solo, or between men and women, or women and women, or men and men, of various ages, which may be above, or below, the age of consent, in one or another real-world polity. Or something like that. If that freaks you out, or violates some law that applies to you or your computer, please don't read it.
Wow Thanks (MFf, exhib, voy, inc, cons) by autoeroticrobot
Chapter 24. The Measure of All Things.
Indeed - Frank was not disappointing in terms of endowment, as we all fixedly watched man's surprisingly youthful-looking, circumcised penis gradually rise and straighten up from its nest of salt-and-pepper curls.
Well, it's bigger than mine, anyhow - I reflected with a weird combination jealousy and situationally-induced lust, as I looked at it from the corner of my eye - out there beyond my up-close view of Marie's cheekbone, nose, lips, eyelashes, and her loose, lovely, gentle curls of blonde hair. I relished imagining the two young girls in our company admiring this handsome older man's slightly curving, turgid tool.
"So, uh, how do I do this?" asked Marie, with a nervous catch in her voice. She was holding the tape measure nervously in her right hand, turning toward where Frank sat nearby on the couch.
"Scoot forward, Frank," Lissa suggested, helpfully - so he did so, until he rested on the edge of the couch and his taut ballsac dangled freely at the edge of the cushion, below the now thoroughly engorged shaft, with its inverted-heart-shaped mushroom top, bananacurving from straight out - it formed a tense and gently throbbing indicator of a carnal desire that I doubt Frank would've admitted to openly. Touch me, hold me, contain me, it seemed to cry out, in a language more primitive and universal than words.
Nevertheless, Frank seemed to be recovering a bit from his ambivalence, more likely due to lust than to any kind of tidy resolution of the concerns for propriety which seemed to have been flickering in his eyes moments earlier - but regardless, he leaned back and spread his legs in response to Marie's turning and kneeling in front of him, allowing her complete access to his groin.
Marie very tentatively reached out with the tape measure - with a laser-like focus derived from equal parts teenage horniness and innocent curiosity.
Leaning over the visibly throbbing member, she stretched the tape measure out as if along side it, but before even actually making any kind of physical contact, she withdrew her hands with a start. "It moved!" she shrieked, in a high-pitched giggle.
"They do that, sometimes, hun," reassured Denise.
"Heh," Marie grinned sheepishly. "I can, like, feel the heat of it. It's like I could toast a marshmallow."
Lissa giggled in response, and mimed holding out a stick toward a campfire, with Frank's tumescent pink log playing the staring role of "fire."
Marie reached out, once again, trying to appear confident, but she was still moving to try to measure the side of the man's cock, awkwardly.
"Measure along the top, Marie," Denise suggested.
Lissa was leaning in close too, to get a good view, but I noticed her gaze kept flicking back and forth between her friend's face and the object of her attention. I think she was as excited by Marie's reactions as she was by what was there to be seen. I could relate - I felt similarly.
Finally overcoming her shyness and awkwardness, Marie succeeded in laying the tape measure along the top of Frank's cock, even as it jumped a few times at each gentle touch from the girl's fingers.
"Seven and, uh, one quarter inches," read off Marie, in barely a whisper.
She quickly took the tape measure away and began to settle back on her heels from her kneeling position, but Lissa reminded her, "you have to do thickness too."
Marie's mouth made a little "o" of recollection, and she leaned back out and reached. Without too much hesitation she started to wrap the soft cloth measure around Frank's penis, right below the flare of the glans.
"No, no. Do the thickest part," urged Lissa.
Marie let go again, and studied the object in front of her for a moment, as it gave one of its little leaps of male eagerness that were being echoed by my own unseen cock, merely for being the witness of this erotic sight.
Marie re-wrapped the tape measure, now around the flange of the glans instead, but to my surprise, Denise helpfully offered, "it's probably even thicker a little down the, uh, shaft."
Marie carefully slid the loop of plasticized cloth down the shaft, and let out a little more, confirming Denise's hypothesis.
"Yeah, you're right," she grunted, and finally read off, "uh, looks like, maybe, five and three quarters. Eheh, more like six, actually. Cool. I like how smooth it feels," she gratuitously allowed her fingers to linger, momentarily, on the hot upper surface of Frank's poor, yearning, burning-red glans.
She released the entrapping tape and began to pull away, finally looking up and briefly meeting Frank's eyes, which were now somewhat hazy with a confused fragment of lust.
Then, suddenly, as if just noticing (and actually, maybe she did just then notice), "hey, it's wet at the end just a lil' bit." Without asking permission or waiting for this observation to even register in the rest our minds, she reached out and just gently touched the shiny, sticky-looking droplet that glistened at Frank's noticeably (well, I was noticing!) distended cum-hole.
She brought her hand away again, and studied the tiny amount goo now coating the very tip of her index finger with a mixture of disgust and wide-eyed wonderment.
"Is that...?" asked Lissa, incoherently, leaning close and looking at Marie's finger too.
"It's called pre-cum," Denise finally volunteered after a rather long silence, since Frank and I were both speechless.
Both girls nodded as if they fully understood, though I'm not entirely certain they did, though I knew Lissa at least had read plenty of erotica online and had some passing second-hand knowledge of what it was. I wasn't sure about Marie, but I suspected she was at a comparable level of expertise.
Marie started to reflexively wipe her finger off on her pants-leg, but got a mischievous glint in her eye, seeing how much Lissa was also interested in this substance, and so in a single rapid motion, reached out and wiped it on the edge of her friend's towel, instead.
"Hey, gross!" yelled Lissa, leaping up with such rapidity that both Frank and I were blessed with just a momentary flash of the girl's sparse but dark-haired pussy as the towel she was wearing billowed.
Marie laughed and pointed the finger at her friend, but then, somewhat contradictorily, held it to her nose and sniffed it, as if testing to see if she'd succeeded in thoroughly removing the disgusting-but-compelling residue.
Denise, meanwhile, teasingly said to Frank, "you could probably go ahead and pull your pants back up now, dear."
Frank looked sheepish, and with some only slight evident discomfort got his glowing-in-infrared shaft tucked back into his jeans. "The game must go on," he commented, wryly.
I got his implied point - after that incredible experience, the fact that the game would go on seemed almost anticlimactic - but that's the sign of a truly wonderful edging experience, right? A near peak, followed by anticlimax, followed by further peak, ad infinitum. And Frank was now fully initiate, even if he still had no actual idea what was going on or how deeply the conspiracy ran.
It was Denise's turn, and Marie summoned a truth - doubly anticlimactic. The question was, "The person to your left chooses someone who is not your boyfriend/girlfriend/significant other/etc. How much would someone have to pay before you would fool around with that person for an hour?"
Although at the moment I was still attached to Marie's cheek with my lips, I was obviously the "person to her left," and the only logical choice for the "someone to be fooled around with" was Frank, so with no delay, I gestured in his direction.
Denise hardly hesitated, only making a pointedly lewd gaze at the man's recently exposed crotch (and the tumescence still resident there beneath the denim of his jeans) and, licking her lips in a kind of slow-motion flirtation, said flippantly, "oh, damn... at LEAST a dollar."
"Momm!" complained Lissa mockingly, while Marie giggled.
Frank and I both just sort of chuckled, and the game moved on again. At last my round of having to stay attached to Marie's cheek was over, so, with mixed regret and relief, I was allowed to return to my seat next to Denise.
Marie read the following dare for me: "You must shave your pubic hair. You must then show that you are shaved to other players. If already shaved, you must shave your armpits."
"Might be interesting," she commented, but there was a "but" embedded in her tone.
"It would take too long," said Lissa, conveying a slight impatience with the game. "Can we get him a different dare?"
No one objected to this suggestion, and so Marie tried again. "Select a member of the opposite sex. Both of you must now find a mirror, preferably a large one. You must make the biggest bare butt prints on the mirror that you can, then sign your name on each of them using your finger. The prints must remain on the mirror until the next day."
"What in the world is a 'butt print'?" asked Denise, jaw open.
Marie laughed, "I have no idea."
"Should we try it?" asked Lissa.
"Seems kind of disgusting," chimed in Denise, again.
The girls were giggling, but nodded in agreement. Marie suggested, "Let's see what the next dare is, and if it's better, we'll use it, if not, we try this one."
Without waiting for approval, she "re-spun" the website, and read the following: "The group selects some kind of sauce/cream, like whipped cream, ketchup, chocolate sauce. Allow the player on your left to dab this all over your lips until they are covered. The person on your right now gets to select another player from the group that must clean your lips off using only their tongue - no lips."
"Oh yeah, that's a good one," said Lissa. "And I'm on his left," she gave an evil little laugh, and without pause ran off to the kitchen.
I exchanged a glance of helpless enjoyment with my sister, and shortly Lissa returned with a jar of chocolate sauce, like for topping ice cream. "Sit still," she admonished, bending over next to me and opening the jar.
With her fingers, she quickly applied a layer of chocolate around my lips, very businesslike. "No licking," she warned, as my tongue tried to flick out involuntarily. I controlled myself.
Then the second part of the dare came, and Denise was to my right, but she pointed at Marie - "go ahead and do it random," she said.
Marie asked, "it doesn't say 'opposite sex' - should I include Frank?"
Denise, Lissa and Frank all seemed surprised that Marie would realize this herself - and further, be bold enough to suggest it. Denise gave an mischievous grin and shrugged, "why not?"
Frank and I both looked appropriately worried, though his earlier comment (or rather, lack of comment) had led me to believe he was hardly homophobic, and nor was I, for that matter. But it might have had a bit of awkwardness to it, had it been him, selected. But it wasn't - it was Denise.
Obviously, neither she nor I had any objections, but we both feigned a bit of reluctance, since the level of eroticism we'd already arrived at over this long weekend was, we both intuited, a bit "unseemly" relative to outsiders like Frank or Marie. Nevertheless, Denise competently and efficiently removed the chocolate from my lips with her tongue in a matter of moments, once she started.
"Hmm," she rumbled, sexily.
It was Lissa's turn. "Switch ALL clothing with the person to your right, including (but not limited to) underwear from the opposite sex."
"Should we go into another room to switch?" asked Lissa, looking at me, to her right. Then added, "I think I benefit from this, anyway," she laughed.
I laughed too, and finally she jumped up and went into the den, gesturing for me to follow.
I followed, and with almost no shyness, Lissa whipped off the two towels she had draped around her and gestured impatiently for me to undress.
Seeing no point in being shy or hesitant myself, I also stripped off my jeans and shirt and socks, and wrapped the one towel around my waist, sarong-style, and put the other on my shoulders cape-wise just as Lissa had had it.
Lissa watched me do this, paying special attention to my revealed erection for the twenty seconds or so during which it showed. Then she pulled on my far-too-long pants and giggled immediately, realizing that unless she held them in place they dropped straight down to her ankles. She buttoned up my shirt, nonchalantly leaving several buttons top and bottom undone, and looked like a child playing dress up, holding one hand to a belt-loop on my dockers to keep them up.
She scooped up my socks and commented, "that towel covers you better than I would have expected." Which was true - the towel, tucked as it was around my waist, hid the rigid rod fairly effectively - but I knew that if I went through a loss-of-hardness / return-to-hardness cycle it'd be poking straight out - only its almost unbearable current rigidity held it taut to my lower abdomen under the tight part of the towel at my waist.
So, with that, Lissa and I returned to the other room, all smiles and easygoing enthusiasm.
The other three took in the somewhat ridiculous sight of Lissa in my clothes, and the less ridiculous but mildly incongruous sight of me in a towel as if ready for a shower, and all smiled indulgently.
Marie read the following truth question for herself, then: "Have you gotten aroused during any point of this game? If so, when did it occur and why?"
She said, fairly quickly, "well, like during the whole game, actually."
"Yes, but some specific moment?" pressed her friend.
"Uh, well, I guess when I was, heh, measuring?" she glanced toward Frank involuntarily, and blushed a bit, biting her lip, then looking down, self-consciously.
"Perfectly understandable," Denise brightly reassured her.
We all laughed a bit, as the tension quickly relaxed again. It was Frank's turn now, and Marie announced he had a "truth" and then read, "Have you ever dated someone simply for the financial benefits they could offer you? How did it end up?"
Before Frank could answer, Lissa complained, "that's boring. Can she pull another question?"
Frank just nodded - he'd come to understand that the girls were running this show - it was really the only logical way to do such a thing, as it allowed them to set their own boundaries and limits. It was a fun ride, anyhow.
So Marie clicked the website and read, "For every member of the opposite sex, say if you've ever had erotic dreams that featured them and if so, describe them."
Frank just shook his head, and said he hadn't, but then added, jokingly, "I expect that might change, after today's experiences." He leered, pointedly, at the three women in the room.
Denise laughed and the girls grinned. Marie said, "Kinda boring question, but I guess that's the breaks. Denise is next."
Then she clicked and pulled up a dare, which read, "Pick another player and have them tell you what their favorite part of your body is and why. You must expose that body part while he/she touches it and describes why they like it"
The other player was picked to be Jason - me.
"Pick something interesting," Lissa urged me.
But I experienced a moment of ambivalence amid the sexually charged atmosphere, and, feeling oddly compelled to an emotional honesty, too, played it safe, saying, "her face." It was true, though.
I reached out and gently cupped her chin, and stroked her face, and very sweetly described what a beautiful face she had, to some awws and sighs from the girls and under Frank's rapt, but comfortably nonjudgmental gaze.
Then it was my turn. Marie read a "truth" for me: "Have you ever taken part in a gay or lesbian activity? If so, how old were you at the time and who with?"
So I told the gathering about the time when I'd been sixteen, and at a summer camp I had had a strange boy-crush on a fellow teenage guy at the camp, an athletic kid named Steve, with his wrestler's physique and exotic Filipino background. We had ended up engaging in acts of mutual masturbation. I didn't mention the role pot and alcohol played in this, however.
"So do you regret it?" asked my sister.
"No, not at all. It's not really my thing, but I always keep an open mind."
She arched her eyebrows at me, flirtatiously. We all looked toward Marie for the next turn.
For Lissa, Marie pulled up a dare Frank had done earlier: "Select a random person of the opposite sex. Have them stand in front of you with their legs spread and you must kneel down, get your lips as close as possible to their groin without touching, and hold there for 2 minutes. If you accidentally make contact, then they can choose: a) temporarily remove a piece of their own clothing and let you try again or b) randomly select a different member of the opposite sex for you to try on."
Lissa pointed out that Frank already had this dare, and lamely protested that we shouldn't have "repeat" dares, but Marie argued that as long as it didn't involve exactly the same people, it should be fine.
So Marie ran the random number generator and I was indicated to be the one Lissa had to kneel down in front of. Of course, now it was me in the towel, not Lissa. The girls insisted I hold the towel tightly to my groin as Lissa had earlier, which caused the lump of my upright cock to show pretty prominently.
Lissa got on her knees and leaned in, and I stood as still as possible, while Marie timed us and watched for how her friend did at the task, and despite the occasional throb in my groin and the slight wavering with each breath that happened to Lissa, I didn't feel any lips making contact with the terry cloth that covered my dick, and soon the two minutes were up.
So then it was Marie's turn, and we got another repeat: "You must be measured by a random member of the opposite sex. Get a soft tape measure (or a strip of cloth or paper with quarter inches marked on an edge will work). Go into a separate room, and if you are male, she is to measure length and girth (circumference) of your dick. If you are female, he is to measure length of your pussy lips and length of your clit. Report back to the group on results."
It was obvious that Marie suddenly regretted her immediately prior insistence that "repeat" dares were OK - as she was now in the hot seat, so to speak.
Lissa elbowed in on her friend excitedly, and ran the randomizer, and said that I was to be the one to do the measuring. She picked up the tape measure from where it had been resting on the coffee table and tossed it to me, and patted Marie's shoulder with mock sympathy, saying, "you go, girl."
I was actually surprised that Marie wasn't putting up more of a fight - she didn't even attempt a formulaic protest, but simply shrugged, a little nervously of course, and pulled down her jeans and sat on the recliner that was behind the two girls.
"Take them off all the way so you can spread your legs properly," insisted Lissa, with a serious tone, meanwhile, turning to me, she said, "C'mon, Jason. Don't tell me YOU're shy." She giggled.
Marie sighed and slipped the pants from her ankles and assumed a position perched upright on the edge of the cushion of the recliner.
Lissa was definitely enjoying managing this situation: "lean back more, like Frank did," she urged.
So then I got on my knees between the beautiful young girl's legs and readied the tape measure, as Marie leaned back under her friend's detailed instructions, staring down at me with what could have been either sheer terror or pure lust - or some weird combination.
Because she was a "true blonde," Marie's bush looked much sparser than Lissa's, though it probably was actually about the same density of hair. But her sweet pink lips were plainly visible, and even her clit was in clear evidence as it peeked out from it's protective hood. This seemed to underscore the fact that horniness was likely at least a substantial component of the girl's current emotional state, and I fixed on this fact as part of a last-ditch effort to rationalize what it was I was doing, so as not to feel quite so criminally guilty about it.