Date: Fri, 27 Feb 2009 19:03:50 +0000
From: clever wag <cleverwag@hotmail.com>
Subject: the boy girl club part two

This is the second part of a bisexual tale involving sex between consenting
adults and younger (though not pre-pubescent) boys and girls. If reading
about explicit intergenerational sexual acts, some of a violent nature,
offends you then please do not read on. Otherwise, enjoy...

I always welcome feedback and suggestions, so feel free to email me at
cleverwag@hotmail.com

I have started a sensual writer website to which I'm beginning to upload
some of my stories. Please feel free to visit and comment at
http://cleverwag.sensualwriter.com

Dave Snow



2.

The BOY GIRL CLUB OF BUDAPEST (or if you want to know the Hungarian
EGYESULET FIU LANY BUDAPEST) took up a whole, quaintly pretty four-storey
house in the city centre not too far from the Inter-Continental Hotel,
where of course we had taken the most costly suite. It had seemed a very
respectable house from the outside, and inside too one wouldn't have known
what purpose it might serve or what services it might provide, until one
had been sat down in the comfortable, chintzy `client lounge', and handed
the two leather-bound albums to peruse, while being offered a drink.

My beautiful young wife had chosen a mojito, which she pronounced expertly
mixed by the bartender -- who was a handsome enough young fellow of about
twenty-five, rather too camp and openly flirtatious for my taste. I had a
suspicion that he may have once worked as more than a mere barman in the
club, and was probably now thought too old to do anything but provide
drinks. His playing for money days were over I reckon. He looked a bit sad
about it.

I had a single malt from a small distillery that I considered buying
once. I was impressed that they had in stock.

The short dapper middle-aged man who had opened the front door to us about
twenty minutes earlier and who had introduced himself as Alexei, now
re-entered the lounge.

`Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Ramsden, Maxim is ready for you now...' he said, `if you
will come this way...'

`Business slow tonight Alexei?' I asked.

Alexei looked marginally affronted and declared: `No Mr Ramsden, we are
very busy as always.'

I grinned, surveying the empty room we were leaving.

He smiled back. `I see you think because there is nobody in the lounge you
think business is not good. We are always careful to time appointments,
Mr. Ramsden, for discretionary reasons. In a minute or so the next clients
will arrive, and then, I hope the bar and the lounge will be empty again.'

`Can we take our drinks?' asked my wife.

`But of course, madam, although there are more drinks in the room, and at
any time you may call down to the bar -- you just dial zero -- and anything
will be provided...'

`Anything?' my beautiful young wife asked.

 `We can provide anything you have a taste for that you do not find in the
room, although the room has most things people like to use, as you will
soon see. We cater for all requirements...'

`I meant maybe another boy, in case I get bored with this one, or if we
suddenly want two boys...'

`Or course, madam, or a girl if you like... This depends on availability,
but there are some good girls and boys available. The catalogues that you
saw downstairs, they are also in the room for your perusal...' And then he
looked at me. `It will be added to the bill naturally...'

`Naturally,' I said.

`Good,' said my lovely wife.

We were ushered to a small, rather old-fashioned cage-lift.

Alexei pushed the button for the fourth floor and the lift began to creak
upwards. It was was rather cramped and I could see that Alexei was sweating
a little. I don't imagine he often gets women as beautiful as my beautiful
young wife in that lift, or at such close proximity.

And she was of course looking terrific. As usual she'd taken hours to
prepare.

`Should I look slutty or formal?' she'd asked me in the hotel suite.

`Slutty formal,' I'd suggested.

`Got it,' she'd then said, after an hour or so's deliberation, `Prada it
is!'

So she was wearing a Prada suit and looking quite exquisite in it -- a
charcoal jacket with nothing beneath it except for a low cut white John
Galliano blouse so that her pretty breast-tops were on display, a double
strand pearl choker around her slender neck, a short grey skirt, black Mark
Jacobs net stockings and Manilo Blahnik loafers. Her hair was pulled back
and gelled, quite severely. She looked like someone who was about to attend
a business lunch rather than someone who was soon going to have wild
sex. It was terribly arousing.

I was wearing a three thousand dollar Ralph Lauren navy pinstripe suit, an
open-necked black Paul Smith shirt and a pair of Church's brogues.

`How old is Maxim anyway...' my wife now asked, as the lift juddered to the
top floor.

`He is seventeen, madam...'

`Oh my Christ...' my wife muttered.

`Or this is what is declared on his Russian passport,' said Alexei, pulling
a hanky from his top pocket and wiping his neck. `I can assure you, madam,
although he is young he is very experienced. Many Russian boys have
experience from a very young age, but if you would like a boy who is a
little older, although no boys here are over twenty, I can...'

`No no, God, seventeen is just fine...'

Alexei looked relieved.

He really was on his best behaviour and eager to gratify. Well he should
have been: I'd already paid a thousand dollar deposit on my platinum card.

`He has great skill and vigour for you, madam, I am sure you will be
pleased.'

`I want my husband to be pleased too,' she said, graciously. I thanked her.

`Well Mr Ramsden will be pleased too. He is very bisexual boy. He is also
top and bottom, whichever you wish. We stepped out into a corridor at the
top of the building.  `This way, Mr and Mrs. Ramsden...'

He stopped halfway along the passage. `Oh I perhaps should tell you that
Maxim does not speak too good English yet but he is learning.'

`We're not here to talk to him,' said my beautiful young wife.

Alexei smirked a little. `Of course, madam, but sometimes a boy requires to
know what a cient requires, and I can assure you that he knows all the
important words, so it should not be a problem...'

`Good,' said my wife.

Alexei opened a door and showed us into a fairly large heavily curtained
room, with decorous low lighting.

The first thing my beautiful young wife said as she entered the room was:
`JESUS FUCKING HOLY FUCKING CHRIST, JESUS FUCK!'

I love it when my beautiful young wife swears and curses and spits out
dirty words. For someone who doesn't know her it always comes as a surprise
-- somehow, I suppose, they don't expect such forthright language from
someone so extraordinarily young and agreeable to look at -- with her
petite frame, her model figure, her expensive clothes.

Alexei was certainly surprised -- as was the boy who was waiting for us in
the room.

He was, if anything, even more outstanding in the flesh than he had been in
the photos in the album downstairs. He was naked from the waist up, his
fashionably baggy jeans riding low over his hips, with a big studded belt
to hold them up, and on his feet a pair of heavy boots. He was breathing
quite deeply (possibly a little nervous himself?), his chest expanding and
deflating.

He was simply incredible. He had a mop of thick glossy hair, some of which
fell just over his searing blue eyes. He had high cheekbones, a youtful
button nose and full sensuous lips. This was the face of an enthralling
boy, the kind that can stop you in your tracks. It was the face of a kid
who could well have been only fifteen or maybe even younger, but his torso
seemed too well developed for him to be quite that young. It was wonderful
-- smooth as alabaster and golden-skinned. There wasn't an ounce of fat on
him. He had strong bulky shoulders, perfectly rounded biceps and a pair of
almost too pronounced pectorals, with two stunningly pointed nipples. His
stomach was remarkably toned -- with his six hard abdominal muscles
beautifully defined. The room was hot and he'd been sweating just a little,
so that his phenomenal young body glistened. He was everything we could
have hoped for -- a true teen boy god.

But my wife was shouting and cursing. How couldn't she be excited by the
sight of this excellent creature? Well maybe she was, but she was also
livid.

`No no no, Jesus Christ!' she cried.

`What's the matter my darling?' I asked.

Alexei and the boy continued to look perturbed. In fact the poor kid looked
quite frightened.

`Don't you understand?' she yelled, `I need to UNDRESS him!'

`Yes yes of course' I said. I understood immediately. The boy had revealed
too much too quickly. She wanted to discover his loveliness slowly. It had
happened before and I should have known. She liked to unclothe her boys
with careful, attentive deliberation, playing with and kissing every part
of them as she did so.

I turned to Alexei, `take him away; he needs to cover himself...'

`Yes immediately, but for sure...' said Alexei, just a touch confused. He
probably hadn't had such a request before. But with seconds, after a few
barked instructions, he had pulled the boy out of the room.

So for a few more minutes my beautiful young wife and I were left alone. I
had time to look around.

The centrepiece of the room was of course a huge bed, covered in a
tapestried bed spread and a lot of cushions. There was a large mirror of
course at the head of the bed, and mirrors on every wall, and a few
paintings, of young muscular boys and pretty petite girls, either on their
own or entangled with each other.

From the ceiling, close to the bottom of the bed, a metal bar was hanging
with two chains dangling from the bar. At the end of each chain was a
leather cuff.

There were a couple of couches, and an armchair, a drinks cabinet, a CD
player and speakers, and a large plasma television with a DVD player.

I went to a tall cupboard and opened it. On the shelves inside there was a
neat array of every kind of sex toy and accessory anybody could possibly
want -- there were chains and clamps, harnesses, chaps, leather thongs,
dildos, vibrators, strap-ons, ball-gags, leather face-masks, collars,
butt-plugs, whips, ropes, flywhisks, and a variety of bottled oils and
lotions.

In a small cabinet beside the DVD player there was a sizeable collection of
DVDs. They where in plain white folders and only the titles were
displayed. They seemed to cater to every taste imaginable. `I don't think
these are readily available on the open market,' I said.

My wife had settled herself onto a black leather couch. `Read me what it
says on the covers, I want to get horny...'

`Aren't you quite horny enough already?''

`No. Make me hornier...'

`Wouldn't you rather watch some of them?'

`Maybe later, I want to come at least twenty times with that fantastic boy
before I watch anything...go on, just read out the titles...'

`How about this one -- LITTLE MUSCLETEEN SERGEI FUCKS HIS GRANDMA?'

`Oh yes...'

`Or this -- UNCLE FRANCESCO AND AUNTY MARIA FUCK THE TEEN POOLBOY AND HIS
PRETTY YOUNG GIRLFRIEND.'

`Oh Jesus yes...'

`PRETTY ROSETTA GETS GANGBANGED BY THE SCHOOL SOCCER TEAM...'

She emitted a tiny groan. She slipped a couple of fingers under her short
skirt.

`...AND THEN THE BOYS FUCK EACH OTHER...'

`...Owwwww...' she whimpered. Then she said `Come here...' I went over to
her. `Feel my cunt, my panties are soaked...'

I leaned down and ran my fingers over her decidedly wet pussy under her
moist silk tiny Janet Reger thong.

`You feel how horny I am for that gorgeous boy, daddy?' she purred.

I love it when she calls me daddy. I was bending down to kiss her when the
door opened and the heavenly boy in question re-entered the room. He was
followed by a sheepish Alexei.

`Mmmmm,' my wife gasped, `now that's perfect...'

`Thank you Alexei, I'll call if we need anything else...'

`Press 3 on the phone by the bed, Mr. Ramsden, that line goes straight to
me...'

He bowed, with an expression of relief, and left.

The boy was wearing the same jeans as before, but above them a black
leather jacket and beneath that a white shirt, open to reveal only his
silky neck and the top of his chest. `He looks like a rough boy now, I like
that,' said my wife.

She stood up, pulling down the skirt where it had ridden up as I'd fondled
her.

`Yummy yum...' she said. `Come here rough fuck boy...'

He'd probably had to go with some ugly old (though rich) tricks in his
time, poor lad. I was sure he'd fucked a fair few pretty girls, and maybe a
few boys too, but I doubt he did that for money -- except maybe if he was
involved in a show for the benefit of some salivating voyeur (and even then
I was pondering the idea of getting him to put on such a show for us).  I
don't suppose he could believe his good fortune when faced with someone as
beautiful, and young, as my beautiful young wife, with the added pleasure
of actually being paid for it. He looked at me now and then, but only very
briefly.  Mainly he looked at her, in fact he stared.

She crooked a forefinger, beckoning him to her. My God, she could be
seductive. She licked her already shining lips. He was drinking her in, his
gaze travelling over her picture-perfect model's body. The long long legs,
the perky tits under her low-cut blouse and her severe Prada jacket. Lucky
lucky boy...

When he was close to her she ran a fingertip down his nose, over his full
lips, his chin, his neck and to the dip between his pectorals, having to
open the shirt a little to do this.  She leant forward and kissed the spot
her finger had left. He was breathing heavily.

Instinctively aroused, he put a hand on her head, as if to press her
further into his chest, but she jerked back and away from him.  `No you
mustn't touch me, not yet,' she said sharply. He probably didn't understand
what she was saying, but the strength of her reaction made it clear to him
what he'd done wrong. He let his arms and hands fall to his sides. `That's
it,' she said, `good little fuck boy...you must do as I say...'

She began to undress him.  I decided to sit on a couch and watch awhile. I
noticed that as she undressed him he was looking, not just at her, but at
himself, in one of the mirrors on the wall. He was a proper Narcissus. And
who could blame him...?

She began with his shirt, unbuttoning it very slowly, button by button,
gently revealing more and more of his sculpted chest and stomach. When
she'd unbuttoned enough of the shirt she pulled it open and tweaked his
tight pointed nipples.  He squirmed. Clearly they were very sensitive.  She
grinned. She looked at me.  `Nice nips baby,' she said.  `You can have a
taste of them later.'

`Thank you,' I said, shifting on the couch.

With the shirt now fully unbuttoned she stood back and then walked round
him, as if admiring a statue in a museum.

`He does like being looked at,' she said, `look how his cock is hard under
those jeans'. She gave the bulge a squeeze.

`Well he's got reason to like the way he looks...' I said.

`Pretty slut,' she said, `look at him looking at himself in that mirror...'
She stood behind him and looked into the mirror too. `Well aren't we a
pretty couple,' she said.

`You are indeed,' I agreed.

She gave his nipples another pinch. Then she let her hands move down to his
buttocks, squeezing them hard. `My God,' she said, `what a pert little
tush.'

Reaching round again she unbuckled the encrusted belt, undid the top two
buttons of his flies, and let him stand there for a time, looking at
himself still. `Right little porn star, isn't he' she said.

She unbuttoned his flies further. His already stiff cock was sticking up
out of the top of his briefs, the head bursting out of his
foreskin. `Lovely uncut boy,' she murmured.

Then she pulled the jeans down fully. She yanked his briefs down, and my
heart skipped as I saw his straining young shaft in all its glory, standing
hard and vertical, almost reaching his bellybutton. But my beautiful young
wife was now on her haunches and concentrating on his buttocks. `Just look
at this hot little arse!' And she gave it a slap.

Then she said `stop looking at yourself you vain little fucker,' and she
stood up and turned him round to face me directly. She looked at me over
his shoulder.

`Isn't he just fucking fabulous?' she asked.  I nodded. She grabbed hold of
the top of his leather jacket and pulled it back and down, taking his shirt
with it, slipping them down along his arms and pulling them off.  Now he
stood completely naked, except for his jeans and briefs in a crumple around
his boots. I could barely breathe. She gave his buttocks another little
slap, harder now.  He jerked forward slightly, his cock twitching. `You
fuck,' she muttered, `you little slut fuck'.

She then picked up the leather jacket and slipped it back on him, up his
arms and over his shoulders again. Without the shirt, I could tell that the
feeling of cold leather on his smooth taut skin thrilled him. He looked
tremendous, wearing nothing but the open jacket.

`I'd love to see this boy stud fuck a young girl,' said my beautiful young
wife as she reached forward to run a hand over the tip of his throbbing
penis, which made him hiss with pleasure.

`Maybe later,' I suggested, `after he's fucked you.'. The thought made her
moan.

`Do you think he has enough cum in him?' she asked.

`Oh I should think so,' I said, `enough cum to fuck you fifteen times over,
then me, and then maybe a girl...'

`Yes I bet he fucks like a stallion...' she muttered, biting his neck.

`Show him your tits,' I said, `your firm little tits. He's desperate to see
them.'

`Not yet,' she said, running her fingers again over his chest and his
ribbed abdomen. `I know,' she said, `why don't you show him your cock?'

`All right,' I said. I was already supremely hard. My cock was bursting to
escape from the confines of my trousers. I unbuttoned my flies. He was
looking at my crotch. My cock burst out and up, all nine thick inches of
it. His eyes widened.

`Mmm, he likes it,' said my beautiful young wife, and she licked his ear.
`His cock's jumping, look!' And it was indeed. The boy's penis, engorged to
about eight inches, was jigging up and down.

`Now,' she said, `I think we need some toys...'

She went to the cupboard. Max was still staring at my cock. I spat on the
palm of my hand and began to pump at my meat. `You like this boy?'

He nodded and spoke for the first time. `Yes it big...' he spluttered.

`Ooooh look a tit chain,' said my wife. `That'll look good on his pointy
nips...'

The boy gasped and squirmed as she attached two clamps to his sharply stiff
nipples and gave the gold chain that hung between them a little tug.

`And a cock ring too I think...'

She got down on her knees and opened and then clicked shut a shiny steel
ring around the base of his cock and under is big balls. His powerful young
body writhed even more. Instinctively he tried to reach down to his
straining meat but she slapped his hand away. `No no no bad boy, you can't
touch! Not unless I say!' She smacked at the rigid cock so that it swung
back and forth. Then she gave the purple glans a little kiss.  He arched
backwards, the open leather jacket falling open even more to reveal even
more of his wondrous pectorals. He groaned.

Once again she got up and gazed at the boy, examining every fine part of
him, assessing him, putting a hand to her chin and a finger in her mouth,
rather as if she were a purchaser at an auction considering a work of art
-- wondering whether or not to buy it. Well he was certainly a masterpiece,
and I'd already bought him for her.

`Now,' she said, turning to me, `what about you?'

`What about me?' I said.

`Isn't it time you got naked?'

`If you say so,' I said. I stood up, my cock still sticking hard and
straight out of my pants, and took off my jacket. I began to unbutton my
shirt.

`Wait wait!' she said. `I want him to do that...'

She yanked at the boy's nipple-chain and tried to pull him towards
me. Because he was still wearing his boots and his jeans were round his
ankles, he almost fell over. My beautiful young wife laughed. He grinned,
the first smile he'd given us. It was a heart-stopping smile.

`Those!' my wife then commanded, pointing to the crumpled jeans and the
boots, `Off!'

The kid bent over to untie his boots. The leather jacket fell down and
forward, revealing his sinewy smooth back. My wife was looking at his hard
buttocks again. `God your cock is going to look so good in that tight
little hole,' she almost whimpered.

`I know,' I said.

'But you can't fuck him until he's fucked me,' she said firmly.

The boy stepped out of his jeans. She tugged at the chain again and he
lurched towards me. I could feel his heat now that we were only a couple of
feet apart. I looked down at his panting chest.

`You...now...take mans clothes off yes?' my wife commanded.

He nodded and started to fiddle with the buttons of my shirt, undoing them
one by one. His fingertips sent little jolts of electricity through
me. I've got a pretty good body for a man of my age, even though I say so
myself. I work out at least once a day, more if I have the time, I make
sure I do thirty lengths in the pool before breakfast. The luscious kid
didn't seem too disappointed in what he saw as he slowly revealed my chest
and stomach. Like I already said, he must have had to endure quite a few
fat flabby old men in his line of work.

`He likes your body daddy,' my wife said.

`It's not as good as his,' I said.

`Oh don't be so modest, darling...' She grasped the boy's head and pushed
it, quite violently, towards my right nipple. Instinctively the hot boy
began to lick and to chew. `Holy fuck,' I gasped, throwing my head back.

My wife went behind me and pulled my now open shirt down and off. `That's
it, fuck boy, work my hubby's nipples, he loves it, don't you darling?' She
guided the boy's left hand to my left nipple, so that now he was pinching
one and munching on the other.

`Jesus God yes,' I groaned.

`Now I want to see that pretty little mouth around your fat cock, daddy,'
she said, and yanked my pants and briefs down. Because he was bending
forward to lick my nipple, my cock, massively hard and freed from the
confinement of my briefs, almost hit his meaty chest. Sensing its
proximity, he pushed his pectorals forward so that he could rub them a
little against the glans. The sensation of the cold metal of his nipple
chain against my cockslit was almost unbearable. He was certainly a
practiced boy whore.

My wife pushed him down, pressing on the top of his head, forcing him to
his knees. He knew what he had to do next.

`That's it baby boy, service daddy's big cock...' my wife hissed.

With great concentration, he examined the beast before putting his lips
over the head. I felt his tongue twirl. Then he took his mouth away from
the head and began to lick my shaft from bottom to tip and back again, up
and down and around. He was looking up at me as he did this. His blue eyes
seemed hungry for approval. I smiled down at him. He once again wrapped his
lips around the cock, then took them away again, and licked all over my
straining shaft, then again he gobbled at the cock. Every time he took it
in his mouth he bobbed a little faster. He was extraordinary. And all the
time he was hanging onto my nipples with his fingers.

`What a little slut,' said my wife, `he's good isn't he?'

`He's fucking good,' I agreed.

`Okay that's enough now it's my turn,' she suddenly announced, and she
hauled the boy up so that he was standing facing me again. His sinewy body
was panting, gleaming. I couldn't refrain from touching him, letting my
eager hands run over his beautifully rounded pectorals, the hard
symmetrical ridges of his stomach.

Now my wife lowered herself to her knees between us and grasped a cock in
each hand. She pushed our cocks together, rubbing their slimy heads against
each other. Then she pumped my cock as she took the boy's cock in her
mouth. The kid writhed. Then she switched cocks, sucking on mine while she
jerked his. She went back and forth between both rods as the boy and I
groaned and stiffened and squirmed. We grabbed one another's nipples as she
did this, twisting and pulling hard. Then I kissed the beautiful lad on the
lips, thrusting my tongue into his moist and heavenly mouth, as my wife
continued to work on our cocks.

`Oh God baby, I'm going to cum...' I cried.

She quickly got up, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. `We don't
want that to happen just yet do we?' she said.

She swivelled round and walked to the bed. Amazingly, she was still fully
dressed, even down to her Manilo Blahnki loafers. The boy was wearing his
open leather jacket but nothing else, and I was completely naked. She liked
it this way. She'd explained to me once that she was into what she called
`CFNM' -- which means `Clothed Female Nude Male'. She loved playing with
her boys, and me, naked while she kept her clothes on -- until it got to
the point of fucking, of course, when her preference was for the boys, or
me, to tear the clothes off her, as roughly as possible. I guessed that I
was going to see that happen very soon.

But now she was running her slender-fingered hands over the two chains that
were hanging from the ceiling close to the bottom of the bed.

`I bet the sexy young slut would look good hanging from these,' she said.

`I'm sure you're right.'

`Struggling and thrashing around mmmm..' she murmured. But then she turned
around to face us again, with a thoughtful finger raised to her lips. `On
the other hand...'she said, looking at me, `so would you...'

`I would?'

She nodded. `I think so, I think you'd look just great dangling here with
that big daddy cock throbbing watching the boy stud fuck my brains
out...Come here, daddy...'

I obediently approached her. The kid was getting really excited. He started
to fondle his cock. `Uh- uh,' she snapped at him, shaking her head, `no
touchy!!!' The horny teen immediately left is cock alone.

`He wants to fuck your juicy mummy cunt so bad...' I said, lifting my hands
above my head to reach the chains. She moaned softly at the filthy concept
as she attached a cuff at the end of one of the chains to my left
wrist. She slipped my right wrist into the cuff at the end of the other
chain. Now I was standing with my arms splayed out above me but my feet
were still on the ground.

`We've got to raise you up somehow,' said my wife. The boy, who obviously
knew every feature of the room intimately, helped out at this point by
going to a kind of control console near the head of the bed, and he pressed
a button. The chains juddered upwards, pulling me up so that I was now
suspended about six inches from the floor, facing the bed.

`Perfect,' said my lovely young wife, looking me up and down, `does that
hurt?'

`A bit,' I said -- but my arms are pretty strong so it wasn't too painful,
or not yet.

`Good,' said my wife. She went to the boy who was standing beside the
bed. She grabbed his head from behind and crushed his mouth against her
lips. Then still kissing him she pulled his leather jacket down over his
brawny shoulders so that he too was now completely naked.

`Oil his body,' I said. I remembered how she'd done that to a muscled
sixteen-year-old Kenyan kid that she'd fucked in a hotel room in Mombasa as
I'd watched through a crack in the bathroom door.I wasn't so open about my
fetish for watching her fuck boys in those days. We'd been walking along
the beach after dinner and had come across a bunch of boys. I'd slipped
back to the hotel room and let her pick the prettiest boy with the best
body and she'd brought him back. He'd only been wearing a skimpy pair of
cut off denim shorts. She was dressed in the red Donna Karan dress she'd
worn for dinner. She'd stripped him of his little cut-off shorts. His young
was almost as big as mine. And then she'd taken a bottle of baby oil and
rubbed the oil all over him. He'd looked amazing. I remember that when he
finally fucked her, passionately and roughly, the oil had stained her
expensive dress. That was before he ripped it off her. It was one of the
most arousing spectacles I've ever seen.

So now my beautiful young wife took a bottle from the cupboard and started
to rub oil into pretty Maxim's skin. His stupendous body had been shiny
anyway, because he'd been sweating, but now he was even more glorious -- a
gleaming pack of smooth teen muscle. The boy loved being touched like this,
and knew well enough how amazing he looked. He twisted from side to side as
my wife caressed him. `Little vain fucker,'she whispered. The boy, who may
or may not have understood this, stared at me and grinned.

She dropped to the floor and licked his abdomen, then upwards, letting her
tongue work his chest, as she cupped his balls. She took the nipple chain
between her teeth and tuggest at it so that he yelped in excitement. She
dabbed at the fat tip of his cock with her lips. She let a hand slip round
to his solid little buttocks and began to insert a finger into his hole. He
squealed. She pulled the chain again as she let the finger go in deeper.

I knew what she was doing. She was trying to excite him so much that he
would take over, that he would turn into the rough demanding animal she was
hoping he'd prove himself to be. She'd been completely in control of him up
to this point, but now she wanted him to be the instigator, driven by
lust. She wanted him to fuck her hard, to tear at her clothes, to do
anything he wanted to do...

And she wanted me to hang there, helpless but utterly aroused, as I
watched...

With a roar, the boy now lifted her up and threw her onto the bed. Yes, her
caresses and nibbles had worked. It was quite a throw. He was clearly a
very strong young kid. She thumped onto the bed like a twisted doll. For a
moment I wondered if she'd hurt herself, because her head didn't land
properly. I thought she might have wrenched her neck. But I knew she was
okay when she yelled out with almost a growl: `Oh God yes that's it you
young stud, fuck mummy hard...!!!'

He got on his haunches above her and tore the Prada jacket open so
violently that the buttons popped.  He grasped the top of her thin white
John Galliano blouse and ripped it downwards. At last her perfect perky
model tits were on display, the nipples already completely hard and
pointing upwards. He dived onto them, munching and nibbling and
sucking. And all the time I watched his immaculate muscles working as he
did this. She gasped and threw her head back as her superb slim body
arched. His rough hands were at her pussy now, pulling off the Janet Reger
panties from beneath her short skirt. From her thrashing and moaning I
could tell he was playing with her expertly down there.

He flipped her over, effortlessly. He pushed her body round so that her
head was facing in my direction. He was skilfully making sure that I would
have the best possible view, of her face, and of him, when he finally
fucked her, if that's what he was now going to do. But I suspected he
hadn't had quite enough of her loveliness yet to do that.

He tugged at her skirt so that it slipped down over her legs. Now, apart
from her shoes and her stockings and necklace, she was as naked as we
were. He gazed down at her tight, almost boyish buttocks. He bit into
them. She cried out. He yanked at her gelled hair, pulling her head back so
that she was staring directly at me. Her face was a picture of agony and
excitement.

On his haunches he grabbed his cock and began to rub her pussy with it. She
gyrated her skinny hips and pushed herself against him. `Oh God fuck me
now...' she whimpered.

But then he turned her over on her back again. He slid up her body still on
his knees so that his rigid cock lay between her small firm tits. He moved
the wonderful shaft up and down the narrow valley between them, at the same
time twisting her sharp nipples with his big fingers. He then leant forward
so that his nipple chain dangled close to her mouth. She took it between
her teeth and shook her head from side to side so that the chain jerked at
his nipples. He came out with a torrent of Russian words -- presumably
filthy -- and yet again he looked at me, with a cruel grin. Never once
throughout this whole show was this accomplished boy whore forgetting that
what I thought of him was as important as what she thought.

Then he spoke in broken English. `You like I fuck your wife sir, yes?'

`I like very much,' I said.

`I fuck good all women say this...'

`You fuck very good...'

`You like my body?'

`I love your body...'

`Your wife too like my muscle...'

`Yes she does...'

He could obviously speak and understand English better than Alexei had
implied.

He moved his cock further up her until it reached her mouth, pulling the
chain away from her teeth as he did so. Then he thrust into her open mouth
and began to fuck it. He didn't give her the chance to take his meat
gradually. He thumped it in, so that she had four or five inches of his
cock in there. She gurgled and groaned, as she wriggled beneath him. He
raised his arms above his head and did a small gyratory dance for
me,flexing a little, as he pounded her mouth. Then he pulled out again,
leaving her gasping. God he knew how show off.

He leant forward again, licking her mouth, then her chin, and moved back
down her now oil-streaked tense body, tonguing her neck, her nipples and
her firm stomach. He reached her cunt. She pushed it against his mouth. I
watched his tongue dab and tickle. `OH MY GOD YES FUCK...' she howled.

He threw her onto her front once more. He grabbed her skinny hips and
hauled them towards his cock. `Now sir you see how good I fuck your
wife...' he said.

He slipped an arm around her neck and heaved her forcefully upwards and
back against him so that she was facing me, upright, as his cock stood hard
between her upper thighs, the tip touching her cunt-lips. His biceps and
triceps looked superb encircling her long slender neck with the pearl
choker. I stared in wonder at his thick long shiny boy rod as it toyed with
the outer folds of her vagina, and then I saw it touch her exposed
clitoris. She howled.

He still wasn't inside her. Now he did something truly
extraordinary. Continuing to hold her by the neck and without removing his
cock from the edges of her cunt, he shifted himself down the bed on his
knees towards me, so that both he and my beautiful young wife were close
enough to touch me, if they wanted to. I couldn't of course touch them,
however hard I may have wished it.

Now the cock slid into her pussyhole at last. With a shout he pushed up
into her, hard. She yelled again. His strong hands were all over body as he
fucked her, more and more powerfully -- over her sweat and oil-soaked
stomach, her faultless little tits. She began to ride him, matching her
movements to his thrusts.

Despite being lost in the ecstasy of being impregnated, so skilfully, by
this extraordinary young boy, my lovely wife had the good grace to make
sure I wouldn't be left alone entirely as I watched them fuck. The obliging
stud had ensured that she was in a position to touch me, and now she did,
reaching out for my aching cock and balls, playing with them and tickling
and pumping.

It didn't take much fondling to make me come. How long had this whole
wonderful thing lasted, from the moment we first walked into the room? An
hour maybe, and every second of that hour had been arousing beyond
belief. I shot a huge, spraying load, so potent and copious that it
spattered my wife's face and tits and stomach and pussy, and the boy's
balls too as he went on fucking her, and some of it hit the boy's heavenly
face too.

My wife juddered and shook and shuddered and writhed as she experienced a
resounding orgasm. She screamed too, in loud vibrating yells. I think the
whole BOY GIRL CLUB OF BUDAPEST must have shook. Maybe the whole of
Budapest shook.

The boy, even when he was himself about to come, knew that I would want to
see him spurt. So very quickly, just before the moment of explosion, he
pulled his cock out of my wife and shot upwards, in a great arc, adding
great white gobs of boy cum to the cream that was already covering her
still squirming remarkable body. Before he finished coming, he cleverly
pushed his boy meat down a bit so that I would receive some of his cum
too. His aim was so good that his last shower of juice hit my cock.

*******

Maxim the wondrous boy stud and my beautiful young wife were lying next to
each other at the head of the bed. My wife had lit a cigarette. They were
both covered in sweat and cum and oil. She had a hand on his heaving
chest. She casually flicked at a nipple. His cock stirred.

I was still hanging at the end of the bed, from the chains.

`Now what,' said my wife, `I think we should get a girl in, don't you?'

`Why not?' I said.

`Some pretty young bitch for Maxim here to fuck while we fuck each other,
how about that?'

`Sounds good...'

Maxim said: `I like girl...'

`I know fuck boy, I could tell,' my wife murmured.

`Let Maxim pick one...' I suggested.

The two catalogues of possible boys and girls were on a cabinet by the
bed. My wife reached over for the girl catalogue. `Now who's the prettiest
girl here?' she asked the lovely naked boy beside her.

`You are,' said Maxim, sweetly.

`Ah isn't he nice for a fuck boy,' my wife trilled. 'I want to take him
back to London, I bet the agency would love him...'

As they began to flick through the selection of girls, Maxim
pointed. `This, Adriana, she good girl...'

`You like her do you baby?'

`Yes I like fuck her and she like fuck me...'

`I bet she does...'

`We fuck many time and good...'

His young cock was hardening again, considerably...

`Well she certainly looks like a pretty little slut, shall we see if she's
available?'

`Yes I know she is...' said the boy.

My beautiful wife stretched over the naked muscle teen for the phone. `What
was that number that connects you straight to Alexei...?'

`Number three...' I said, still dangling.


to be continued...