the room before sitting on the sofa with the empty bottle in her hand. Then she slowly leaned backwards, her legs pressed tightly together and she caressed the neck of the bottle with her lips and tongue. Then she moved it lower, running it over her breasts and snow-white tummy before moving it even lower to cut a path through her thick brown bush of curly hair at the base of her belly.
Then she moaned and opened her legs so that we saw her pouting pink pussey lips appear and she moved the bottle between them, pressing the neck gently into her pussey, frigging herself off with it, sliding it in and out of her dampening cunney. This stimulating sight sent Jock Gibson's blood boiling and in a trice he had stripped naked, and holding his stiff shaft in his hand he padded over to the couch. He leaned over Paula to massage her lovely big breasts and she lifted her head to press her mouth over the bulging uncapped knob of his thick prick.
The sight of the beautiful girl holding Jock's cock while she lustily sucked his balls drove us wild and my hands left the keyboard to tear wildly at my trouser buttons so that I could release my huge erection that was threatening to burst through the crotch of my trousers. Sir Lionel was the first however to divest himself fully of his clothes and he sunk to his knees between Paula's legs and firmly removed the bottle that had been sliding in and out of her pussey and replaced it with his tongue as he licked and lapped at her juicy quim, his nose buried in her mossy mount.
'Now, Lionel, that's enough of your tongue — stick that thick prick up my cunt, there's a dear fellow,' cried Paula, her lips temporarily leaving the glistening shaft of Jock Gibson's meaty cock. 'I want it all. Oh, Lionel, please fuck me!'
As befitted a gentleman and a scholar, Sir Lionel raised-his head to her titties and lapped at them in turn as the excited girl took hold of his throbbing tool and guided it herself, inserting the uncapped knob into the welcoming folds of her cunney. At the same time, Paula resumed sucking Jock's veiny staff, noisily slurping away as he fucked her mouth, his slippery shaft almost fully between her red lips, so that his knob must have been almost touching her tonsils.
She wriggled merrily as Lionel pumped his raging shaft in and out of her sodden cunney. Paula bucked and twisted, all the while urging the randy baronet to thrust deeper, deeper as she raised her elegant legs and wrapped them behind his broad shoulders. Cupped now in his palms, her tight little bum cheeks rotated savagely as he pushed in, pushed out and pushed back again, his balls slapping against her bottom.
John Walsh reached this lewd trio just seconds before me and Paula grasped his erect penis with her right hand leaving me to stand alongside Jock Gibson so that she could clasp her fourth cock, which was standing high against my belly, with her left hand. 'This is better than bridge,' declared John and we all chorused our agreement except for Paula, whose mouth was still engorged with Jock's huge cock, but she managed to nod her head slightly in agreement.
What a tableau greeted Bacon as he wheeled in a trolley of assorted sandwiches! There in front of his astonished eyes were Lady Paula naked on the Chesterfield being fucked by Sir Lionel as she fellated Jock Gibson whilst frigging John Walsh and myself with her hands.
The old valet stood transfixed as with a yell Jock shouted: 'Hoots! Here it comes!' as he ejaculated a veritable flood of spunk into her mouth. She swallowed as much as she could but the juice ran out over her lips and down her chin as with a grunt Lionel expelled his essence into her cunney, the white froth filling her love channel to trickle down her thighs. John and I were the next to spend which we did simultaneously, our fountains of spunk jetting upwards to rain down on Paula's large titties and we rubbed in the white love juice around her nipples as she herself shuddered with a most delightful series of climaxes.
We lay panting in an exhausted heap as Bacon cleared his throat and said: 'I have taken the liberty of running a bath, Sir, and perhaps you and your friends might like to allow Lady Platts-Lane to avail herself of the facilities.'
'What a splendid idea, Bacon,' I said and after Paula had finished in the bathroom we four men took showers before assembling back in the lounge where we refreshed ourselves with smoked salmon, caviare and champagne.
After we had quaffed our fill, Paula giggled and said: 'Larry, I have a confession to make to you.'
'Really, darling, and what might that be?' I asked.
'Well, I did not actually spend this afternoon quietly discussing the formation of a new club with my friends Carolyn and Melanie,' she began.
'Ha, ha, ha,' laughed Sir Lionel. 'I'll wager a thousand pounds there is a man involved somewhere. Come on, Paula, don't be shy-who was the lucky fellow? Anyone I know? Jonathan Arkley, perhaps, or young Harry Price? Or is there some dashing new young man about town?'
'Oh, Lionel, I can never keep anything from your sharp brain. Well, if you must know, there were two boys involved,' admitted Paula. 'But I don't think I should really tell you exactly what went on.'
'You'll do much better if you make a clean breast of it,' suggested Jock Gibson firmly and John Walsh nodded his agreement.
'You won't be angry though, will you, Larry?' asked Paula anxiously. 'Promise me you won't be cross.'
'Of course I will, my sweet,' I reassured her, kissing her on the lips. 'After all, anything you did will pay me back for forgetting our arrangement tonight, though truth to tell I am well satisfied with the outcome so far this evening.'
Paula downed the rest of her champagne and said: 'Very well, then, I will tell all. I did take tea with Carolyn and Melanie and we did talk about the possibilities of starting up a new ladies club-but at five o'clock who should walk in but Carolyn's fiance, young Antony Jammond, with his friend Fred Noolan. We chatted gaily to the boys about this and that but I noticed that poor Antony looked somewhat miserable and far from his usual bright, cheery self.
'“Is anything the matter, Antony?” I asked him. “Oh, don't worry about him, Paula,” said Fred. “He is agitated over a personal matter and although I and several other friends have assured him there is no cause for concern, he cannot rid his mind of a foolish and unrewarding notion.”
'“This sounds serious,” said Carolyn. “Darling, do tell us what is worrying you. Perhaps we will be able to take the weight of whatever is troubling you off your mind.”
'At first Antony was bashful but in the end he admitted what was causing him such anxiety — “It's the small size of my prick,” he said. “I have noticed in the bath after cricket that all my friends are far better endowed than me. I am sure that Fred here, for example, can give the ladies far more pleasure with his huge chopper than I can with my relatively tiny little instrument.”
'Melanie frowned and said: “It never ceases to amaze me that so many men are obsessed with the size of their pricks.”
'“ Yes, but we girls worry in the same silly way about the size of our titties,” said Carolyn.
'“We're as bad as each other,” I summed up, “for as everyone knows, it is quality not quantity that counts. As Jenny Everleigh puts it, what counts is not the size of the wave but the motion of the ocean!”
'“All very well,” said Antony. “But ask any one hundred young men if they would like another three inches of cock, and if they answer honestly, you would find that the huge majority would reply in the affirmative.”
'“I agree,” said Carolyn. “And if you asked one hundred girls if they would like extra inches added to their busts, you'd get a similar result, I'll be bound.”
'“Let's face it,” added Antony, “we are not created equal. Carolyn would like a bigger bust and I would willingly give anything to be able to boast a nine-and-a-half-inch prick like Fred here.”
'I gave Fred's crotch an admiring glance, for though I stoutly maintain that size is not all-important, I must admit that the sight of a big thick prick does cause my knickers to moisten! However, I turned my mind back to the problem of how best to show Antony and Carolyn the error of their ways.
T decided that only a physical demonstration would show how misguided they were about this whole matter. So I asked if they would be prepared in a practical fashion to help me prove my point that size is immaterial so long as both partners are in receptive mood. They readily agreed and so, very sportingly, did Fred and Melanie who needed no persuasion to take my point of view but were eager to assist their misguided friends. 'To cut this story short, I began by instructing the two men to leave the room, and to take off all their clothes upstairs in the main bedroom where we would shortly join them. After they left us, I explained to the other girls what they had to do and they laughed heartily when I explained my plan.
'We three also stripped naked but before we went upstairs, I borrowed three of Carolyn's silk scarves which I took up with me. When we entered the bedroom the two boys looked goggle-eyed at the three pretty naked girls
