While the conversation about how these older ladies loved teenagers' cocks was going on, and Elizabeth's hand rather expertly squeezed Carl's rock hard penis, there was a little tap on the French windows and then the sound of the window opening and a voice -- a male voice -- saying, 'Doreen, are you in? Oh...!'
The 'Oh' was the moment the man caught sight of what was happening on the coffee table in the centre of Doreen's lounge. 'Oh, Mr. Martin, how are you? Sorry, we're right in the middle of something right now, but feel free to come and join us.'
Carl knew Mr. Martin. He was a neighbour, a married man of about 65, always smartly dressed in shirt and tie even on the weekends. 'We're just milking my nephew Carl. You know Carl.'
'Yes, of course. Hello Carl,' said Mr. Martin as if a teenage boy on his hands and knees on a coffee table being milked by a group of older women was the most natural thing in the world. 'Hello, Mr. Martin,' said Craig, polite even in the middle of having his penis massaged by Elizabeth.
'How's your wife?' asked Doreen. 'It's a shame you didn't bring her. Next time perhaps.'
'Oh, nice work,' said Mr. Martin to Elizabeth. 'You're getting him quite excited. Look at that strand of precum! It stretches from the end of his penis to the table! And that's a very nice penis, Carl.'
'Thank you Mr. Martin,' said Craig. A man had never commented on his genitalia before and it made him blush to the tips of his ears, the thought of this distinguished gentleman appraising his buttocks, his balls, his cock, his precum.
'But you are missing a trick,' he went on, still addressing Elizabeth. 'If we can get Carl to widen his knees a little...'
'Carl dear, do what Mr. Martin tells you,' said Doreen, who was watching Elizabeth's strokes, to make sure they were being done correctly.
Carl widened his knees until they were on the edge of the coffee table and the cheeks of his ass had parted. 'You see,' said Mr. Martin, 'if you get the cheeks parted like that, you can see the hole, which I'm glad to see you're keeping nice and smooth, Doreen.'
'Of course!' said Doreen. 'I like to shave Carl every day or every other day, so there's no stubble and just a nice smooth surface for me to work on.'
'But ladies, if you look carefully at the hole, you'll see that it tightens and relaxes as this lady does those nice long strokes. You see?' The ladies peered in and nodded that, 'Oh, yes!', they could see how Carl's little hole was clenching with Elizabeth's strokes.
'I used to work in a men's sixth-form college with groups of 18- and 19-year-old lads, and a lot of them would need regular milkings just to keep a lid on their bad behaviour,' said Mr. Martin. 'We found that if we could keep their balls free of sperm, they could concentrate on their studies much better.'
'Oh,' said Doreen. 'I suppose that makes sense.'
Mr. Martin spotted the discarded underwear on the rug and picked them up, put them to his nose. 'Mmm, musky,' he smiled. 'That's the smell of teenage boys.' And he passed the pouch panties to Sophie who smelled them and passed them on until all the ladies were cooing over the smell of Carl's underwear.
'Now, when you see the hole clenching like that, it means it wants to be touched,' said Mr. Martin, sounding very much like the schoolteacher he used to be. 'So, what you do... If I may?' he asked as Elizabeth handed Carl's penis to him. Carl had never been touched by a man before and his blush deepened. The feel of Mr. Martin's hand was so different to the ladies' hands. It was rougher, stronger, bigger, it gripped tighter.
'So, while you maintain the stroke you take your other hand...' He held up his other hand then leaned forward to dip a finger in the pool of precum that was now on the coffee table, 'moisten it, either with spit or lotion or... seeing as Carl seems to be producing a lot of his own lotion...' The ladies giggled.
While still stroking Carl's stiff penis with an authority Carl hadn't really felt until now, Mr. Martin put his finger, loaded with precum, on Carl's twitching boy hole. A shock of electricity ran through Carl causing him to shudder. 'You see!' said Mr. Martin. 'That should bring a whole new dimension to this boy's milking. But don't let him have it, he has to ask for it...' It was true. Carl was moving his hole towards Mr. Martin's finger, burning to feel the touch of that man's finger on him again. Mr. Martin obliged, now circling the pink little hole with the sticky precum.
'And when you think he's got used to that...' Carl could feel the man's finger prising his hole open, entering it. Nothing had ever gone in Carl's hole before. He was embarrassed about his ass but this man wasn't asking permission, he was just worming his finger into it... and it felt amazing. But humiliating.
'If you put your finger in this way,' he was pointing down, though Carl obviously couldn't see, 'then you'll be touching his prostate and that's what will give you a really deep milking. So, keep your stroke but massage this spongy bit inside his anus at the same time. Doreen, why don't you have a try?'
Doreen stepped forward. To be honest she'd been feeling a bit annoyed at this man's ownership of Carl's penis and hole, which were by rights hers to do what she wanted with. 'Now carry on with the strokes. Oh, you are good at that. You must have had quite a bit of practice...' The ladies in the room giggled. 'And, that's right, dab your finger in some of Carl's natural juices... Just touch the hole to start with and, yes, in you go. Maybe it would be a good idea to cut those nails down a bit for next time.' It was true, Carl could feel the sharpness of those nails as Doreen's finger went in and started to massage that secret bit inside of him.
After Doreen, Sophie had a go, and then Elizabeth and then the other ladies until everyone had had their fingers in Carl and were jokingly smelling his boy musk on those fingers as they watched the next woman.
'But if I may, would you allow me to do the final milking and show you how the finger works?' said Mr. Martin.
'Of course,' said Doreen, who was now happy to have had this extra bit of instruction and actually quite excited at the sight of a grown man with his finger in her nephew's private hole.
Mr. Martin came back to Carl, resumed his stroke on the boy's penis, occasionally putting his hand to his mouth to taste the precum and his hand to Carl's mouth to make him taste his own precum, which was actually quite delicious. Then, with some of that precum on his finger, Carl felt the most expert hand of all enter his hole again, massaging and pressing and teasing as he stroked Carl's rock hard penis.
Within a few strokes Carl was feeling that he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. 'Madam...' he said. 'Would it be OK if I released soon.'
'Are you ready, Carl?' she asked as if surprised, even though this session had now been going on for quite some time. 'Yes, as long as Mr. Martin is agreeable.'
'Mr. Martin, would it be OK if I released now?'
'Yes, boy,' said Mr. Martin. 'You've been a very good boy. I think it would be OK if you wanted to...' But before he could finish the sentence Mr. Martin felt a tightening of Carl's hole around his finger, could feel the pulse inside of him and then the rush of sperm as it shot through the underneath of Carl, up his stiff penis and out onto the coffee table. As he came, he shuddered, the shudder going right through him, a shudder Mr. Martin could feel in his finger...
As Carl's shudders became less strong and his head hung in sheer exhaustion, Mr. Martin slipped his finger out from Carl's hole and he too sniffed it. 'Oh, that is rather nice, isn't it?' he said to the assembled ladies. 'They should bottle it.' At which the ladies giggled.
'Stand up straight for us now, Carl dear,' said Doreen. 'We want to watch your penis go back to normal.' Carl stood, feeling all the eyes in the room on him as his penis slowly deflated, dripping the last drops of cum onto Doreen's Persian rug.
'May I?' said Mr. Martin as Craig's penis finally went soft and before Doreen could work out what he was asking permission for, Mr. Martin scooped up the sperm that was on the coffee table and put it in his mouth with relish. 'You really are delicious in every way, Carl,' he laughed as the boy blushed. 'I should bring my other neighbour's son next time to see how you compare.'
'And you can bring Kevin, Sophie,' said Irene. 'I'm sure he could do with a good milking.'
The 'Oh' was the moment the man caught sight of what was happening on the coffee table in the centre of Doreen's lounge. 'Oh, Mr. Martin, how are you? Sorry, we're right in the middle of something right now, but feel free to come and join us.'
Carl knew Mr. Martin. He was a neighbour, a married man of about 65, always smartly dressed in shirt and tie even on the weekends. 'We're just milking my nephew Carl. You know Carl.'
'Yes, of course. Hello Carl,' said Mr. Martin as if a teenage boy on his hands and knees on a coffee table being milked by a group of older women was the most natural thing in the world. 'Hello, Mr. Martin,' said Craig, polite even in the middle of having his penis massaged by Elizabeth.
'How's your wife?' asked Doreen. 'It's a shame you didn't bring her. Next time perhaps.'
'Oh, nice work,' said Mr. Martin to Elizabeth. 'You're getting him quite excited. Look at that strand of precum! It stretches from the end of his penis to the table! And that's a very nice penis, Carl.'
'Thank you Mr. Martin,' said Craig. A man had never commented on his genitalia before and it made him blush to the tips of his ears, the thought of this distinguished gentleman appraising his buttocks, his balls, his cock, his precum.
'But you are missing a trick,' he went on, still addressing Elizabeth. 'If we can get Carl to widen his knees a little...'
'Carl dear, do what Mr. Martin tells you,' said Doreen, who was watching Elizabeth's strokes, to make sure they were being done correctly.
Carl widened his knees until they were on the edge of the coffee table and the cheeks of his ass had parted. 'You see,' said Mr. Martin, 'if you get the cheeks parted like that, you can see the hole, which I'm glad to see you're keeping nice and smooth, Doreen.'
'Of course!' said Doreen. 'I like to shave Carl every day or every other day, so there's no stubble and just a nice smooth surface for me to work on.'
'But ladies, if you look carefully at the hole, you'll see that it tightens and relaxes as this lady does those nice long strokes. You see?' The ladies peered in and nodded that, 'Oh, yes!', they could see how Carl's little hole was clenching with Elizabeth's strokes.
'I used to work in a men's sixth-form college with groups of 18- and 19-year-old lads, and a lot of them would need regular milkings just to keep a lid on their bad behaviour,' said Mr. Martin. 'We found that if we could keep their balls free of sperm, they could concentrate on their studies much better.'
'Oh,' said Doreen. 'I suppose that makes sense.'
Mr. Martin spotted the discarded underwear on the rug and picked them up, put them to his nose. 'Mmm, musky,' he smiled. 'That's the smell of teenage boys.' And he passed the pouch panties to Sophie who smelled them and passed them on until all the ladies were cooing over the smell of Carl's underwear.
'Now, when you see the hole clenching like that, it means it wants to be touched,' said Mr. Martin, sounding very much like the schoolteacher he used to be. 'So, what you do... If I may?' he asked as Elizabeth handed Carl's penis to him. Carl had never been touched by a man before and his blush deepened. The feel of Mr. Martin's hand was so different to the ladies' hands. It was rougher, stronger, bigger, it gripped tighter.
'So, while you maintain the stroke you take your other hand...' He held up his other hand then leaned forward to dip a finger in the pool of precum that was now on the coffee table, 'moisten it, either with spit or lotion or... seeing as Carl seems to be producing a lot of his own lotion...' The ladies giggled.
While still stroking Carl's stiff penis with an authority Carl hadn't really felt until now, Mr. Martin put his finger, loaded with precum, on Carl's twitching boy hole. A shock of electricity ran through Carl causing him to shudder. 'You see!' said Mr. Martin. 'That should bring a whole new dimension to this boy's milking. But don't let him have it, he has to ask for it...' It was true. Carl was moving his hole towards Mr. Martin's finger, burning to feel the touch of that man's finger on him again. Mr. Martin obliged, now circling the pink little hole with the sticky precum.
'And when you think he's got used to that...' Carl could feel the man's finger prising his hole open, entering it. Nothing had ever gone in Carl's hole before. He was embarrassed about his ass but this man wasn't asking permission, he was just worming his finger into it... and it felt amazing. But humiliating.
'If you put your finger in this way,' he was pointing down, though Carl obviously couldn't see, 'then you'll be touching his prostate and that's what will give you a really deep milking. So, keep your stroke but massage this spongy bit inside his anus at the same time. Doreen, why don't you have a try?'
Doreen stepped forward. To be honest she'd been feeling a bit annoyed at this man's ownership of Carl's penis and hole, which were by rights hers to do what she wanted with. 'Now carry on with the strokes. Oh, you are good at that. You must have had quite a bit of practice...' The ladies in the room giggled. 'And, that's right, dab your finger in some of Carl's natural juices... Just touch the hole to start with and, yes, in you go. Maybe it would be a good idea to cut those nails down a bit for next time.' It was true, Carl could feel the sharpness of those nails as Doreen's finger went in and started to massage that secret bit inside of him.
After Doreen, Sophie had a go, and then Elizabeth and then the other ladies until everyone had had their fingers in Carl and were jokingly smelling his boy musk on those fingers as they watched the next woman.
'But if I may, would you allow me to do the final milking and show you how the finger works?' said Mr. Martin.
'Of course,' said Doreen, who was now happy to have had this extra bit of instruction and actually quite excited at the sight of a grown man with his finger in her nephew's private hole.
Mr. Martin came back to Carl, resumed his stroke on the boy's penis, occasionally putting his hand to his mouth to taste the precum and his hand to Carl's mouth to make him taste his own precum, which was actually quite delicious. Then, with some of that precum on his finger, Carl felt the most expert hand of all enter his hole again, massaging and pressing and teasing as he stroked Carl's rock hard penis.
Within a few strokes Carl was feeling that he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. 'Madam...' he said. 'Would it be OK if I released soon.'
'Are you ready, Carl?' she asked as if surprised, even though this session had now been going on for quite some time. 'Yes, as long as Mr. Martin is agreeable.'
'Mr. Martin, would it be OK if I released now?'
'Yes, boy,' said Mr. Martin. 'You've been a very good boy. I think it would be OK if you wanted to...' But before he could finish the sentence Mr. Martin felt a tightening of Carl's hole around his finger, could feel the pulse inside of him and then the rush of sperm as it shot through the underneath of Carl, up his stiff penis and out onto the coffee table. As he came, he shuddered, the shudder going right through him, a shudder Mr. Martin could feel in his finger...
As Carl's shudders became less strong and his head hung in sheer exhaustion, Mr. Martin slipped his finger out from Carl's hole and he too sniffed it. 'Oh, that is rather nice, isn't it?' he said to the assembled ladies. 'They should bottle it.' At which the ladies giggled.
'Stand up straight for us now, Carl dear,' said Doreen. 'We want to watch your penis go back to normal.' Carl stood, feeling all the eyes in the room on him as his penis slowly deflated, dripping the last drops of cum onto Doreen's Persian rug.
'May I?' said Mr. Martin as Craig's penis finally went soft and before Doreen could work out what he was asking permission for, Mr. Martin scooped up the sperm that was on the coffee table and put it in his mouth with relish. 'You really are delicious in every way, Carl,' he laughed as the boy blushed. 'I should bring my other neighbour's son next time to see how you compare.'
'And you can bring Kevin, Sophie,' said Irene. 'I'm sure he could do with a good milking.'
