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From: shakespeer2b@yahoo.com (Shakes Peer2B)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 2 Oct 2003 00:39:22 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} (New)Me and Mrs. Jones - Chapter 5: Party time (mf, Mf, Mm, oral, anal, toys, best, mult)
Date: Thu,  2 Oct 2003 04:10:04 -0400
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________________________________
This is a story about a sexual FANTASY written for consenting adults.
If you're not both of those, don't read it.  Characters in a FANTASY
don't get sick or die unless I want them to. In real life, people who
don't use condoms and other safe-sex techniques do get sick and die.
You don't live in a FANTASY so be safe.  The fictional characters in
my stories are trained and experienced in acts of FANTASY - don't try
to do what they do - someone could get hurt.

If you think you know somebody who resembles any of the characters
here, congratulations, but you're wrong - any similarity between the
characters in this story and any real person is purely coincidental,
since all of these characters are figments of my dirty little
imagination.

This is my story, not yours. Don't sell it or put it on a pay site.
You can keep it and/or give it away with all of this information
intact, but if you make money off of it, you're breaking the law and
pissing me off.
_________________________________
I don't recall having seen a story or series titled "Me and Mrs.
Jones" before, but I would be surprised if there weren't several out
there - it's such a natural for this sort of story.  Anyway, my
apologies to anyone who might have used it before, but I couldn't
think of a better title for this series!
_________________________________
Me and Mrs. Jones - Chapter 5: Party time (mf, Mf, Mm, oral, anal,
toys, best, mult)
(C)Copyright 2003 - Shakes Peer2B
shakes_peer2b@NONOsbcglobal.net
(remove 'NONO' from above address)

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Shakes_Peer2B/
http://storiesonline.net/  (go to the Author's page under 'S')
________
Mrs. Jones looked thoughtful as Becky and I, naked except for our
nipple chains, entered the playroom hand-in-hand.  It was, of course,
time for our usual Friday afternoon session.
Instead of getting us positioned for whatever sex act she had planned
however, Mrs. Jones beckoned us to sit on the floor at her feet.

Naturally, we didn't want to disappoint our Goddess, so we sat,
waiting expectantly for whatever her scarlet painted lips would ask of
us.  Neither of us was prepared for what she did ask, however.

"Jimmy," those violet eyes burned into my soul, "Becky, you have both
been wonderful so far, always doing whatever I asked, eagerly and
without question.  Tonight, I must ask something more of you."

We gazed at her lovely face, eager to do whatever would please Mrs.
Jones.  She looked back and forth between us, then smiled at our rapt
expressions.

"You have both been absolutely marvelous in your willingness to share
your love with Buster and then with Mr. Jones."  She studied our faces
before continuing.

The longer the buildup took, though, the more nervous I became.  When
Becky's hand sought mine again, I knew she, too, was feeling
apprehensive.

"You two are the most special of my special children," Mrs. Jones
cooed, touching each of our cheeks in turn, "and tonight I would like
you to do a very special favor for me.  I am giving a party tonight,
and I would like the two of you to share your love with my guests,
just as you have with Me and Buster and Mr. Jones.  Will you do that
for me?"

Normally, our response would have been instantaneous, but this time,
Becky and I looked at each other in consternation.

I don't know how to describe the voluminous discourse that took place
within a few seconds as we locked eyes and said not a word.  At first
we were both afraid, then we agreed that Mrs. Jones would never hurt
us or allow us to be hurt. Then Becky, always the more adventurous of
the two of us, realized the possibilities. As she communicated this
silently to me, I too, began to speculate on the ramifications. In the
end, we smiled at each other, turned as one, and sang, in harmony
"Yes, Mrs. Jones!"

Mrs. Jones beamed at us and the room seemed suddenly brighter. "You
are both so deliciously fantastic! One of these days you need to teach
Mr. Jones and I that telepathy thing you do!  It's three hours until
the party begins and I want you fresh for my guests, so you can either
go home and make the necessary arrangements with your parents, or you
can wait here.  In either case, take your chains off - you'll need
them tonight and I don't want the circulation restricted in your
nipples for that long."

"Mrs. Jones?" I asked

"Yes, Jimmy?"

"I just need to call my mom and tell her I'll be at a friend's house."
I said, "It's better if I don't go home or they'll find an excuse to
keep me from going out again."

"Me too!" Becky chimed in.

Mrs. Jones showed us the phone on the wall of the playroom, then left
to prepare for the party, admonishing us not to leave the playroom
until she or Mr. Jones came for us.

"I want you to be a lovely surprise for my guests!" Mrs. Jones
practically gushed.

Becky and I removed each other's chains, then, after calling our
parents, settled down side-by-side on one of the benches to wait. 
Three hours is a long time for horny teenagers to wait, and we soon
found ourselves engaged in a torrid sixty nine.  As we neared orgasm,
Mrs. Jones voice came from a speaker hidden somewhere nearby.

"You may play with each other all you want," she admonished, "but I
will be VERY disappointed if either of you cum before joining my
party!"

"Yes Mrs. Jones!" we chorused.

Reluctantly, we pulled apart.  To kill the time, we went exploring
within the playroom.  Most of the devices and odd bits of furniture
were well known to us, but we did find a few things that neither of us
had seen or had used on us before.  For some of them, like the
gigantic dildoes that would have made a horse scream in pain, the
reasons were obvious.  For others, it wasn't clear why we hadn't
experienced them.  For still others, we couldn't even guess what their
uses might be!

We passed the time in speculating about what this or that oddly shaped
thing might be used for, our suggestions getting sillier and more
ribald by the minute, until suddenly, Mrs. Jones appeared to take us
to the party.

Our goddess was even more stunning than ever in a hot-pink, skin
tight, one-piece dress that showed nearly all of her gorgeous curves. 
Its super short skirt displayed her long, shapely legs to full
advantage, but the bodice, well, there almost WAS no bodice!  The
waistband of the clinging skirt swooped upward around a large hole
centered on her pierced navel, to a single strip of cloth that
bisected her taut abdomen, splitting into two strips that barely
covered her erect nipples and aureolae before merging into a single
strip that once again spread apart to become a collar around her long,
aristocratic neck. A large, brilliant diamond pendant hung between her
luscious breasts, matched by dangling solitaire diamond earrings.  The
color of the fabric must have been chosen to perfectly complement the
violet of her eyes, because they blazed beneath the stylish bun into
which her hair had been captured.

When Mrs. Jones beckoned us to follow, and turned to lead us
downstairs, my breath caught at the way the back of the skirt plunged
to a sharp V ending at the top of the cleft of her ass, exposing the
exquisite alabaster expanse of her back all the way to the little
dimples at the top of each rounded buttock.

The spikes of her heels were impossibly thin and long, but she moved,
as always, with poise and grace, disdaining use of the handrail on the
stairs, looking straight ahead as she descended with Becky and I in
her wake.

Mrs. Jones motioned for us to wait in the foyer as she flowed into the
hubbub of a party in full swing.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" She announced in an almost conversational tone
that nonetheless silenced her guests as if a blanket had been thrown
over them. "As the invitation suggested, I have for you this evening
some very special entertainers. Before I introduce them, however, I
want each of you to understand that these people are very dear to me,
and are to be treated with the utmost respect and love."

She swept her gaze around the room, fixing each guest momentarily with
a look that said "This means you!"

Turning slightly sideways to the foyer entrance where Becky and I
waited, she continued, "Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests,
let me introduce this evening's entertainment. These two young people
are very much in love, and are very adept at pleasing their partners
in a variety of situations.  They have brought me many hours of joy,
and are a delight to watch when they are together. Please welcome
Becky and Jimmy!"

Our faces red with embarrassment at being the only naked people in the
crowd, Becky and I entered timidly, hand-in-hand, to gasps of
surprise, and a scattering of applause.

Mrs. Jones, sensing our discomfort, gaily addressed her guests, "It's
not really fair that Becky and Jimmy stand here naked while everyone
else is fully clothed, is it? You knew that the evening would
eventually lead to sex of some sort, so please, disrobe and let's get
started!"

As her guests undressed, Mrs. Jones turned to Becky and I. "I'd like
for the two of you to put on a little show to get my guests in the
mood.  Will you do that for me?"

"Yes, Mrs. Jones!"

"Yes, Mrs. Jones!"

Our Goddess did not remove her own clothing, but smiled and led us to
a small platform at one end of the room.

"Just make yourselves comfortable here, and make love to each other,
in any way you desire.  When I think the time is right, I'll bring
Buster to join you.  The idea is to get these people as aroused as
possible. Will you do that for me, Becky, Jimmy?"

"Yes, Mrs. Jones!"

"Yes, Mrs. Jones!"

As Mrs. Jones faded back into the room and naked onlookers crowded
around the little stage, I turned and kissed Becky passionately.  My
lovely Angel responded by grinding her almost hairless pelvis against
my thigh, moaning loudly into my mouth.

Breaking the kiss, I turned the beautiful twelve-year-old away from
me. She raised her arms to caress my head and neck as I bent to nibble
at the delicate curve where her neck rose gracefully from her
shoulders.  My now hard dick nestled wetly between her buttocks as I
tugged gently at her chain with one hand, while caressing her
increasingly moist pussy with the other. Becky melted into me while
her hips alternated between humping my fingers and sliding her tender
nether cheeks along my turgid shaft.

I was only dimly aware of the gasps and moans from the audience as the
lovely Blonde nymphet suddenly knelt, twisting around to face me, and
engulfed my dripping penis entirely.  Her delicate lips buried deeply
in my pubic hair, Becky moaned and twisted her head from side to side,
sending shockwaves up my spine as my hips arched to meet her eager
mouth.

The lovely pre-teen worked me into a frenzy, but I didn't want to come
this way.  I gently helped her lay back on the carpeted stage, coming
down astride her face as she continued her industrious ministrations. 
Carefully, never losing contact with her mouth, I turned until I was
facing Becky's glistening pussy.

As I bent and started tonguing her clit, Becky's moaning rose in pitch
and volume.  When I slipped a finger into the tight, wet confines of
her slit and stroked her G-spot, she screamed around my shaft and
climaxed, slamming her clitoris against my vibrating tongue.

The watching adults murmured and cooed around us, and I heard the
slurping, slapping sounds of more than one pussy being penetrated.

As my Angel recovered from her first cum of the evening, I switched
ends and gently slipped my rampant spear into her still spasming
cavern.  She was so wet that, despite the tightness of her tunnel, I
sank to the hilt without effort.  Becky threw arms and legs about me,
and shrieked through another orgasm.

My sweet little Angel became a raging beast in the spotlight of the
audience's lustful gaze, shouting for me to pound her little pussy
into the ground as she dug her fingers into my buttocks and pulled me
deeper.

Remembering that the purpose of the show was to arouse the audience, I
pushed Becky's slender legs back toward her shoulders, and she
obliged, staring lustfully into my face, by slipping her arms inside
and pushing her ankles behind her shoulders.  This left our genitals
fully exposed to the hungry gaze of our audience as it increased the
depth of my thrusts.  I knew the time was not yet right for me to cum,
so I sent my mind wandering as I hammered sweet little Becky into the
stage, urged on by her cries of passion.

As the diminutive blonde crashed through another orgasm, I released
her legs and pivoted her body around the axle of my dick until she
knelt weakly before me, resting on her elbows.  Little Becky was
cumming continuously as I pistoned in and out of her from behind, and
from the sounds around the stage, she wasn't the only one.  In the
midst of one of her orgasms, I slipped from her dripping pussy and in
one stroke penetrated the spasming rosebud of her pink little anus.

Becky screamed and came again as the audience gasped and murmured to
see such behavior from a pair so young.  The sex noises from the
adults were even louder as I stroked rapidly in and out of my sweet
Angel's rectum.

I hadn't seen Mrs. Jones, but suddenly, I felt Buster's warm fur on my
back.  A hush fell over the crowd as Mrs. Jones guided Buster's
dripping cock to my eager butt, then was broken as the adults let out
a collective 'Ooooohhh!' on seeing Buster slam his pointed red spear
full length into me.

Mrs. Jones leaned over and whispered into my ear, "You two are doing
very well, Jimmy! Cum with Buster, ok?"

I looked her way and gasped "Yes, Mrs. Jones!"

Buster wasted no time in plowing deep into my guts, setting up a long,
rapid thrusting rhythm.  I could do nothing but hang on for the ride. 
Buster's motion transferred through my body to Becky's, however, as
both of us were fucked by the animal's bestial phallus.

As Buster neared his own pinnacle and his burgeoning knot began
trundling in and out of my quivering butt, the amazed adults began
pointing and speculating on how large it would get and whether I'd be
able to take it all.

No worries. Buster and I had done this many times before.  He lunged
inward one final time, and on the withdrawal, his knot stuck inside
me, still expanding, filling and pounding me like a boxer's fist.

I was frantically searching for something, anything to occupy my mind
as the enormous cudgel swept repeatedly over my sensitive prostate. 
Within seconds, though, I felt the hot flood of his cum deep in my
guts as he pulled me back against him and unloaded everything in his
balls.  I, in turn, pulled Becky's tiny butt into my groin as hard as
I could and hosed her colon with my own seed.  The chain reaction was
completed as the sweet pre-teen howled through her strongest climax
yet, doing her best to embed my entire pelvis within herself as I
bellowed my passion in her ear.

There was a loud noise in my ears as I came back to myself, and it
took me a while to realize that the adults were cheering wildly!

Becky and I smiled tiredly at each other, maintaining our own coupling
and kissing tenderly as we waited for Buster to deflate enough to
dismount.

Mrs. Jones, still the elegant vision in hot pink, knelt beside us,
beaming her smile directly to our hearts. "That was fantastic, Becky,
Jimmy! When you've had some time to rest, I'd like for you to do the
same with any of my guests who wish it, if you please.  Mr. Jones and
I will be watching to ensure that you don't get hurt or forced into
doing anything you don't want to do. Will you do that for me?"

Again, Becky and I looked at each other and that instant, silent
conversation took place, ending in our smiling at each other then
turning to Mrs. Jones. "Yes, Mrs. Jones!"

Mrs. Jones gave a wry smile and shook her head slightly, "You two are
unbelievable! I'll never understand how you do that!"

Buster finally slipped from my distended butthole, and Becky and I
took a few minutes to rest and drink some soda pop while the
conversation raged around us and hungry eyes devoured our bodies.

I don't remember many details of what happened after that.  There must
have been twenty adults at that party besides Mr. and Mrs. Jones, and
I do believe I fucked or was fucked by every one of them. I caught
glimpses of little Becky sandwiched between two guys while sucking
another dick or pussy. Sometimes one or more of the phalluses in her
holes was strapped to a woman's waist.

I sucked and fucked and was fucked by countless men and women, not
knowing or caring who was who. One part of the party, however, is
etched clearly and indelibly in my memory.

I was on my knees, fucking one guy in the butt, another dick up my
butt, and a third down my throat.  Because I knew Mrs. Jones wanted
her guests to be pleased, I put my heart and soul into every coupling
and blow-job.  This one was no different. I took it all in and laved
the shaft with my tongue, then the head as it withdrew.

 From above, a voice separated itself from the hubbub around me, "Look
at the little fag! He's loving this shit! You're just a little pussy,
aren't you boy!"

My mortification didn't last long as the dick in my mouth was yanked
unceremoniously away.  It took a moment for my eyes to refocus.  When
they did, I saw Mrs. Jones standing beside the guy who had been
talking, one hand on his shoulder, the other pulling tightly on the
cord that was strangling his balls, pulling them back between his
legs. The expression on her face was deadly.

"Please hand Mr. Klein his clothing." She spoke quietly, but the room
had grown deathly still, and Mr. Jones appeared with a bundle of
clothes.

Mr. Klein was still in shock, the pain in his balls having taken his
breath away.

Mr. Jones silently took the cord from his wife and frog-marched the
offender out of the room.  We all heard the slamming of the front door
as Mr. Klein and his clothes were unceremoniously dumped on the front
walk.

Mrs. Jones turned to the shocked guests. "I thought I made it clear
that these children are very special to me. They are not fags, whores,
sluts, pussies or any of the other things you might be tempted to call
them!"

"Jimmy!" Mrs. Jones eyes were lasers as she fixed me in her gaze, "Why
are you here tonight, having sex with all these people?"

"B-because you asked me to, Mrs. Jones!"

"Do you do everything I ask of you Jimmy?" I knew she wasn't mad at
me, but just being around an angry Mrs. Jones was very painful.

"Yes, Mrs. Jones!"

"Why, Jimmy?" her tone softened a bit, but the rage still boiled
underneath. "Why do you do what I ask of you?"

I knew she knew, but I guessed she wanted her friends to know, too.
"I-I don't want to disappoint you, Mrs. Jones."

"Why don't you want to disappoint me, Jimmy?"

I had known the answer for months, but had never had to articulate it
before. "Because I... You... Because I love you, Mrs. Jones!"

Mrs. Jones smiled tenderly and once again my heart melted as she
turned to Becky.  "Is that why you are here tonight, Becky? Because
you love me?"

"Yes, Mrs. Jones!" Becky, too, had gotten disentangled from her
partners and now stood beside me, holding my hand.

"Becky," Mrs. Jones asked softly, "Is there anything you wouldn't do
for me?"

"Yes, Mrs. Jones!" Becky's reply was immediate, though delivered in a
small voice.

Mrs. Jones seemed a bit taken aback, "What wouldn't you do for me,
Becky?"

"I wouldn't do anything to hurt Jimmy, Mrs. Jones." Her voice was
clear and strong, now. "I love HIM too!"

"Me too, Mrs. Jones!" I was looking at Becky when I said it, but saw
Mrs. Jones smile out of the corner of my eye.

"That's as it should be, dears!" Mrs. Jones anger seemed to have
melted away, "I would never ask you to hurt one another, or anyone
else, for that matter."

Turning back to her guests, Mrs. Jones' voice turned once more to
tempered steel, "As you have seen, these children do what they do
because they love me. That is a rare, precious thing, and I will NOT
tolerate ANYONE demeaning it or them! Do I make myself clear?"

As one, every head in the place nodded, and I thought I even heard a
murmured "Yes, Mrs. Jones!" or two. If that was intended as a joke,
nobody laughed.

There was a bit more desultory fucking and sucking after that, but no
one's heart was in it, and the party soon broke up.  Mr. and Mrs.
Jones joined us for one last, loving fuck after the guests left, then
saw us to the door.

Neither Becky or I spoke on the way home, but the look in her eyes
when we parted was reflected in mine.  We now knew for certain that we
loved each other even more than we loved Mrs. Jones.

______________

Becky and I continued to visit Mrs. Jones each Friday, and,
occasionally, to entertain the guests at her parties.  Sometimes there
were others of her 'special children' there as well, and we all did
our best to make sure the guests were entertained and satisfied.

On the Friday following my fifteenth birthday, Mrs. Jones threw a
party for me.  The guests were all her special children, Mr. Jones,
and Buster.  We had a great time eating ice cream and cake, and
reminiscing about things experienced together and separately.  It felt
like a big family gathering until the very end when Mrs. Jones stood
to make her announcement.

Elegantly clad in black leather (pants, this time, though they were so
tight you could tell she wore no panties), she stood in front of me
with a small envelope in her hand.

She held out her hand and as I took it, she pulled me to my feet.

Turning to the others she said, "Jimmy was the first of you to come to
me, and he has been very special to me. He has given me endless
pleasure and has never disappointed me in the almost two years that
he's been coming to see me. He's fifteen today."

She turned to me and I could see the shimmer of tears filling her
eyelids. "When a special person reaches fifteen, it's time for him go
out on his own, and live the rest of his life as he sees fit. I have
one last thing to ask of you, Jimmy.  I need you to leave here tonight
and go out and live a wonderful, happy life, but you cannot return to
this house. Will you do that for me, Jimmy?"

I could barely see her through my own tears, but I suddenly realized
that SHE was looking UP at ME.  I shook my head, but somehow, I knew
that I must do what she asked. "Mrs. Jones, I...!"

One of those long, perfectly manicured fingers bridged my lips before
I could finish, and with pleading eyes, Mrs. Jones asked quietly,
"Will you do that for ME, Jimmy?"

Crestfallen, I bowed my head and murmured, "Yes, Mrs. Jones!" for the
last time.

Those bewitching violet eyes smiled wanly at me, though her ruby lips
didn't move, and she hooked her arm through mine, walking me to the
front door.  At the door, she tiptoed and kissed me tenderly.

"You have been the best, dear James," she whispered as she hugged me,
"and I will miss you terribly, but now it's time for you to go out and
meet the world."

As I stepped through the door, she handed me the envelope she carried.
"Do you remember when you first came here to mow my lawn, and I
promised that I'd give you twenty dollars each Friday for 'mowing my
lawn'?"

I nodded, saying, "I didn't want the money, Mrs. Jones."

She smiled and said, "I know you didn't, dear, but a promise is a
promise.  You never asked me for the money, so I opened an account in
your name with my investment banker.  Each Friday, another twenty
dollars was added to that account.  In addition, each time you
entertained the guests at one of my parties, I added two hundred
dollars to the account. This envelope contains the name and address of
my investment banker, and the account information. I recommend that
you let him continue managing your money, as he is very good. Take out
only what you need for college, until you are done with your
schooling, and you will not want for money to do whatever you want
when you and Becky get married."

I numbly accepted the envelope, nodding my agreement, and stumbled
down the steps.  As I passed under a street lamp, I idly looked at the
contents of the envelope.  I couldn't believe my eyes! On the line
that said BALANCE were six figures, BEFORE the decimal point, starting
with a seven! Mrs. Jones investment banker WAS very good!

I was mulling this over, trying to reconcile my newfound wealth with
my banishment from Mrs. Jones' house when Becky caught up with me,
slipping her arm through mine. In the year and a half since Mrs. Jones
first got us together, Becky's body had filled out and her face had
gotten even more beautiful, though she still looked small next to me.

"I'll stop seeing her," she said softly, "if you want."

We looked deeply into each other's eyes and told each other what was
in our hearts, without saying a word. I knew she still enjoyed her
time with Mrs. Jones, and she knew that though I was broken-hearted,
my love for her would not allow me to ask her to give up something
that meant so much to her. A smile and a tiny shake of my head was all
it took to seal the deal.

I showed her what was in the envelope, and recounted what Mrs. Jones
had told me.

"Ohmigod!" she squealed, "Mrs. Jones promised ME twenty dollars for
every time I helped her 'bake cookies'!"

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