Mr and Mrs D invited Sandra and I over last night for our first awesome foursome with them in about a year and a half.
They'd just been out to dinner with Mr D wearing stockings, suspenders and a g-string under his clothes. The idea was for the feeling of his sexy lingerie against his skin to serve as a reminder that later that evening his sissy ass would be mine.
Likewise, I'd told Sandra to wear a sheer white dress with no bra or panties. Not really as a reminder of anything. She knows her ass belongs to me. She wore a coat over it so I don't think the taxi driver noticed but Mr D certainly did when he came to his door and found me standing back holding her coat over my arm and Sandra standing there effectively naked in a completely transparent dress. I may have overheard the onset of an erection so sudden it emitted a cartoon
noise like coyote activating one of roadrunner's spring-loaded traps.
You know the one. The Beavis boing.
Mrs D was also wearing some kind of flame coloured chiffon ensemble that revealed so much of her sexy body that when she came in for a hug and kiss it was all I could do to resist throwing her down on the hall rug and fucking her there next to the umbrella stand.
Decorum barely maintained, we proceeded to the kitchen where Mr D gave me a lateral flow test. Sandra was exempted from this as she'd just had one the day before. I may have been the first to have my tonsils probed that evening but I was not the last.
We drank bubbly and reminisced about the time Mr D's stainless steel, bejewelled butt-plug fell out at a dinner party and he had to discreetly hobble around the table gripping one trouser leg in both hands, hunched over like Quasimodo, to get himself to the powder room post haste lest his bum bauble go rolling around the room pinballing off the shoes of various well heeled and genteel guests.
Mrs D opted to spend the evening in an advisory capacity. She's gorgeous and I'd happily fill her out like a job application. But I am a consummate professional so of course I respected her wishes and took her advisory advice to fuck her husband up the poopenshaften.
Mr D was like a virgin again. Even with ample lubrication and popper administration, he struggled to take more than an inch of my cock. He's promised not to wait another 18 months before our next date so the plan is to enforce on him a strict regimen of Oz assisted sphincter stretches.
Sandra got spit roasted and DPd by Mr D and I.
We love a good double jabbing.
Mr D has a custard chucker the size of a draught-excluder.
Sandra performed a lovely soprano rendition of "holy fuck these two giant cocks are rearranging my guts".
All in all a scintillating evening. Most convivial. Good bubbles, sparkling repartee, hardcore fucking.