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Subject: {ASSM} Graceful.Provocative.Classy. (MMF, oral, public, hand)
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Date: Sun, 31 Aug 2014 07:10:01 -0400
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A lady doesn't always play tennis on the tennis courts.

This is taken from my blog at
http://bawdybloke.com/story-graceful-provocative-classy/
* * * * *
"Oh? Does your father know them?"

I knew the answer to my question before I had even finished asking it, 
let alone before the spoilt coquette had uttered her response. The four 
tennis courts we were standing adjacent to had been built at her elder 
sister's request several years ago, but had seen little use for almost a 
decade until Svetlana had seemingly applied herself to the sport.

Every day, the nineteen year old socialite walked to the end of my 
employer's estate, well secluded from the 15th Century manor house and 
sauntering past my small workshop. I had seen her every morning in her 
short, white tennis dress, eyeing her from my vantage point; I adored 
watching the seductive sway of the teenager's hips as she strutted 
sexily down the path to the remote corner of the grounds.

Graceful. Provocative. Classy. She made my cock swell and my lips dry.

Only, I knew that she wasn't going to play tennis. There were a few 
clues. The fact that she didn't always bring a racquet to the courts was 
one, the champagne corks I found in the bushes was another. And that 
day, I noticed her dress rode up too high: she wasn't wearing underwear.

So that day, I spied on her: subtly following the young lady and 
watching covertly, as she beckoned two men into the estate from the lane 
via side gate and took them to the lower tennis court. The bushes dug 
painfully into my skin as I silently manoeuvred myself into position to 
observe. I was spell-bound in shock and excitement as a six foot black 
body-builder seized her body, and wrapped his thick arms around her 
dainty frame.

They kissed; his tongue pushed into hers as she writhed underneath his 
strong grip, squirming under his powerful build. Her dress was hitched 
first to her back and then discarded onto the court. She simpered as he 
squeezed her young tits and man-handled her delicate young frame.

Her skin contrasted with his; her age too. Both of her visitors must 
have been ten or fifteen years her senior and I knew the Lord of the 
Manor would have been aghast if he could have seen his youngest 
cavorting with the two men. They didn't look like Oxbridge graduates 
like his son-in-law or a lawyer like his son! He would see them as 
disreputable: dressed in tatty tracksuits with paint splodges on their 
clothes. But status clearly meant nothing to her lust. She writhed under 
his tongue, squirming as he touched her pussy and held her naked skin 
tight to his body.

The other man  -" a short, bald-headed white guy  -" unzipped his faded 
jacket to parade his hairy chest. He squeezed her buttocks, caressing 
the glutes as his fingers slipped between her crack to openly finger her 
heaven.

She stood on tiptoes, parting her legs to present herself to them. 
Making her body more accessible and more desperate for their lustful 
attention. I could feel her desire radiating across the court. She 
wanted to be taken; the privileged girl was itching to be plundered by 
the two working class men. A shameless act of debauchery, a betrayal of 
her family morals.

Her hands pawed at her black partner's trousers; she ignored his singlet 
barely hiding his muscles and hauled his tracksuit bottoms to the floor. 
He was commando. His dark cock swung free and her eyes widened at the 
sight of the veiny manhood bobbing into view.

The naked girl dropped to her knees, gripping the impressive dick. Her 
tongue floated across the tip of his penis as her fingers massaged the 
shaft, glancing up at him for approval.

His fingers twisted in her hair, forcing her mouth roughly onto his 
thick cock. She winced and spluttered as he rammed his manhood into her 
mouth, lewdly high-fiving his friend as the teenager was face-fucked. 
Her waist was pulled up as the second guy brazenly pushed his unfettered 
cock along her slit.

Her body ravaged from both ends by the violent thrusts of the two men, 
she groaned and squealed as she was spit-roasted. She muffled words of 
lust onto cock, they barked debauched approval at her ragged body. The 
slick wetness on their pricks as they forcefully rammed into both of her 
holes glistened in the morning sun. And they pounded her; she was 
nothing but a pair of orifices to them, ravaging her openings for their 
relief.

Her hands grabbed his thighs; I captured the eager lust in her eyes, 
listened to the desperate squall in her voice as the black man pounded 
his cock into her mouth. He grunted, shuddered and withdrew, 
deliberately squirting his cum over her delicate face.

My erection throbbed. The sight of the prim and proper daughter debased 
in such a debauched fashion had my dick rising and my lust overflowing. 
I ignored the thorns digging into my skin or my duty to my employer, I 
was entranced by the young lady and captivated by the rampant sex.

Her tongue now free, she spoke; squealing loudly and obscenely at her 
bald-headed friend to fuck her harder. To take her and to fill her. To 
make her come. His skin slapped against hers, his trousers pooled at his 
ankles. The base lust in his loins sparkled as his unfettered cock drove 
passionately into her teenage cunt.

Then he came too: spewing his cum deep into her, with a relaxed grunt 
and a deep breath. She kissed them both; the naked teenager dripping cum 
onto her legs and the court as she retrieved a bottle of champagne from 
her bag. "To us," she laughed as the cork was popped into the flowerbeds.

They drank from the bottle, swigging the ludicrously expensive alcohol 
as if it was cola, until the glass container was empty. She lay on the 
court, chatting to them; they talked about orgies and gangbangs, sexual 
positions and practices as if it was afternoon tea at the vicarage. They 
laughed, she seductively made promises and I waited: my heart throbbing 
as her black friend slowly inserted the empty bottle into her. She 
panted, closing her eyes as the bottle neck was worked into her cunt and 
then pressed deeper and deeper.

She swore as her body shivered with the sensations from her pussy, 
stretching to accommodate the bottle as he rammed it further and further 
into her, coating it with her moistness as it pleasured the young lady.

She whimpered and cried, panting as her flushed face, twisted. Her legs 
trembled, climaxing with a snatched cry and a shaking body.

They didn't stop; the bottle was replaced by their cocks and they 
pounded her until all three had come again, filling her cunt with more 
cum. I had not moved from my spot, watching the unbelievable sight was 
the two men kissed her, got dressed and slipped away via the side gate.

I scrambled free of the bushes, scratching my arms as I ran up to her. 
"I saw that. Are you OK?"

She scowled, seemingly annoyed at my forthright inference that she was 
troubled by the rampant sex. "Fine."

"I mean, it looked ..."

"They are my friends." She interrupted. "You're a man of the world," she 
teased as her eyes twinkled. "You must know what a girl does with her 
special friends. Her very special friends. Well, two of them."

"Oh? Does your father know them?"

"Of course he doesn't," she barked and glanced at my erection. "And I 
don't want you to tell anyone! I can make it worth your while. I can buy 
your silence." She winked, as she slipped her hand into my shorts. "You 
can be my special friend too."

I groaned as her fingers swirled over my cock, pulling it gently as her 
thumb rubbed my purple tip. She applied calm strokes as she smiled into 
my expression, my frenzied lust stroked by her firm fingers on my cock. 
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Being my special friend. We could have 
so much fun together."

Panting, I hummed, nodding my head. "That's ... nice!"

"And I do love the feel of your cock," she whispered. "So long, and 
hard. I'm going to have fun bouncing off this and taking this in my 
mouth. Sucking you dry. When was the last time a girl sucked you? I 
always suck my special friends." Her lips formed an "O" and she swirled 
her tongue around her mouth, seductively enticing my mind.

But it was her strokes taking me to an orgasm: the pull of my shaft, the 
swirling thumb over my glans and the naughtiness of the situation. We 
were in public, we were in her father's garden and I was an employee. I 
couldn't resist and my resolve exploded; filling her hands and my shorts 
with stickiness. I sighed, sated. She giggled, knowingly. "Tomorrow, 
10am," she whispered. "See who else wants to play tennis with me! Oh, 
and recycle that for me, Brian forgot to take it!"

And with me holding her champagne bottle, the tennis girl skipped 
towards the manor house, her short skirt riding up for me to take in the 
view.

Graceful. Provocative. Classy.

And damn sexy!

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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