The Summer House

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It was a hot and sultry July day and it was a time in my life when I was able to relax, probably for the first time, having just completed my exams and looking forward to going off to university.

I had been off since late June, had become deeply bored and so had volunteered to play for the 2nd eleven each weekend. I was OK at cricket and that particular day we had been lucky enough to win comfortably.

And so it was that we had showered and changed and were heading up the gravel driveway to Simon’s house at around 6 pm, the car wheels made a crunching sound against the shingle through the wide open windows as we pulled up behind his father’s large blue Mercedes.

Simon, the captain and star player, had invited both myself and Norman, the pick of the other bowlers, back to his house for a celebratory BBQ in the summer house at the end of his father’s garden.

Simon was athletically built, powerful and a good all rounder, tall and stocky with short dark hair. He was fiercely competitive and had lead the team really well, scored a few runs and taken three wickets — you couldn’t ask for more. Norman and I had cleared the rest up and so were proud of ourselves and high spirited as we drew up at the end of the long and secluded drive.

Simon’s house was a large1930’s detached, probably with four or five bedrooms. It was up a narrow and leafy lane adjacent to the golf course — the back garden backed on to one of the fairways.

We didn’t go into the house, we walked down the side and along a path lined on one side by a thick ash hedge, neatly clipped into a straight and tall barrier.

The house was on top of a ridge that overlooked the golf course, the garden fell away in a gentle slope and was levelled into three terraces, each with a lawn and trees forming a hedge.

Simon’s father had recently re-married, his mother had died suddenly and tragically three or so years before. I remember how Simon had been cut up about his loss and now that his step mom was the former housekeeper he wasn’t keen to talk about it. He took a pragmatic view saying that he would be away to university and out of it soon in any case.

The summer house was on the bottom terrace, in a secluded glade and not visible from the main house. It was cosy and set up as a den. It had power and running water. It even had a toilet and was quiet self contained. Made of stained wood it sported a fenced in wooden decked veranda, a row of six glass panelled doors at the entrance and a main lobby. Inside which, at the centre was a full sized pool table, over the doors, in the pitch of the roof, was a large flat screen television, connected to a DVD player behind the bar in the opposite corner. The bar was well set up, it had a row of four stools, a small fridge, sink, ice maker, a row of optics (all empty) and plenty of clean glasses behind the counter.

To the right there was comfortable and plush four seat corner settee which would double up as a bunk for Norman and I later. We dumped our sleeping bags behind the L shaped couch and helped Simon to pull the gas BBQ outside and on to the lawn in front of the doors.

Simon lit the gas, went off to the house and returned a few minutes later with some meat, a large crate of beer, cool and ready to drink and a DVD tucked into his shorts. Simon placed the crate behind the bar and loaded the fridge with the cans Norman and I had bought with us earlier — we were well set.

Norman was tall and gangly, his long legs looked thin and weedy in his tight shorts. He had a dark complexion, brown eyes and wore a figure hugging black tee shirt. He was a quiet lad but had a steely edge to his sporting performance, the ideal competitor.

For my part I was in denim shorts, cut off jeans that had frayed edges and a plain white tee shirt. I was the shortest of the gang, although still around the six foot mark. My dark hair was cut short but at least my torso was a match for Simon’s, not that I had been working out but he did make me pump up every time he stood next to me.

Simon was warm and welcoming and put me at my ease. Norman for his part was a veteran of these bashes and took everything in his stride.

We ate, played pool in turns and drank. Simon put the DVD on and clutched the remote jealously.

“Just in case someone comes.” He said pressing the button and looking up at the screen.

It was porn downloaded from the Internet. Simon and Norman grinned as a German title flashed across the screen. Simon turned the sound down and we continued our game.

Simon was intensely competitive, he hated losing at anything, cricket or pool and dominated in “winner stays on” at the table.

The view over the golf course from the summer house was stunning. At around ten PM the light was drawing in and the last of the golfers had made their way off the course, the mowers fell silent and the sheltered glade fell still. There was almost no breeze as the heat and humidity of the day lingered.

I was bending over the table when I heard a illegal bahis girl’s voice from the darkness behind me, through the open doors.

“Boys night in I see.” The short and stocky figure said as she slipped in almost silently, her hands behind her.

There was a second person approaching through the darkness. Simon fumbled with the remote, switching the television to fuzz.

“Its OK, we both know what you get up to down here.” It was difficult to deny it when all of us were sporting large bulges in our shorts.

“Evening Paula.” Simon said. “Everyone, this is Paula.” He said bending to take his shot. “And this is Kerry, my sister. Paula is my, er, um, step sister, she moved in in June.”

A statuesque vision entered the small wooden room. She was tall and athletic, a female version of Simon, although better looking and not so broad shouldered.

“Kerry is Simon’s twin.” Norman whispered to me as he passed me, studying the table for the ultimate shot.

“Hi, there.” Kerry announced in a soft and genteel tone.

I looked up and into her deep brown eyes, dipping them to catch sight of her athletic and toned body. I learned later that she was into tennis and was equally as competitive as Simon. She had gone to the girl’s grammar school whilst Simon, Norman and I had gone to the boy’s school.

Her hair was the same colour as Simon’s, almost jet black, cut straight to collar length, immaculately parted down the centre and with a deep and glossy shine. She sported a healthy tan and had amazingly sexy mouth with an enchanting smile.

Paula was considerably shorter than Kerry. She had dyed blonde hair with black roots and bushy black eyebrows. She was stocky, perhaps on the rotund side with a large frame, corpulent backside and hips. She had equally liberal boobs that bounced generously as she moved around the small timber lobby.

Although less stunning than Kerry, she had a pretty face, a pale complexion, clear blue eyes and high cheek bones dotted with a few freckles. She had gone to the local comprehensive and like us had just finished her exams, but unlike us wasn’t going off to university.

She had a harsh voice and a deep local accent and sported a rather large chip on her shoulder — definitely from the wrong side of the tracks!

Both girls were bare footed and bedecked in tight shorts and hugging tee shirts. I couldn’t make out the tell tale shape of a bra on either but could barely tear my stare from Kerry’s long and shapely legs.

Paula was a dominant with a strong personality. She had Kerry under her spell and there was obviously a power game afoot with Simon, as she circled the pool table where he was finishing his game.

“I’ll play next.” She said in an almost combative tone.

“Is that all you’ve got to drink?” She added disdainfully. “What a bunch of losers. Here!” She said slamming a bottle of tequila down on the bar top. Kerry approached and did the same with a bottle of vodka, both having been secreted out of the house.

Norman and I looked on in stunned silence.

Kerry went behind the bar and set up two rows of shot glasses.

“Come on then. I bet we can drink you lot under the table. What do you say, the winner breaks off?” Paula turned to Simon as he planted the black ball into the corner pocket.

“OK, game on.” He grabbed the vodka and filled the eight glasses stacked in a neat row.

Norman counted Paula and Simon down. With two hands each they grabbed and downed the glasses. Paula narrowly beat Simon to the punch, his eyes almost glowed red as she broke off at the table.

Paula was like some kind of a she devil. She had some kind of a power over Kerry who simply and hypnotically followed her lead. Simon obviously didn’t approve and the tension in the room was palpable.

Kerry lined up another row of glasses and took on Norman. Throughout the game each of the girls rook turns to take on one of us on with the shots – Paula with vodka and Kerry with tequila. By the end of the first game the spirit bottles were almost empty and each of the girls had opened a beer.

Paula was good at pool, almost as good as Simon and after a deft closing shot was hailed by Kerry as the champion.

“How’s about boys versus girls?” Kerry suggested, trying to calm the atmosphere a little. “Losers pay a forfeit.”

“What forfeit?” Simon demanded.

“We’ll decide when we beat you hollow.” Paula said confidently blowing chalk off the tip of her cue.

Norman and I stepped up to the plate. I was starting to feel the effects of the spirits as I stood for my first shot. The girls for their part played up, each trying to put us off our shots — brushing passed us with their breasts, bending over, showing us both cleavage and ass — generally having a lark. Simon was furious, he strutted around and branded them cheats.

“Sit down and chill.” Kerry demanded.

Simon did as he was ordered and sat slumped on the sofa. Paula blew him a kiss and winked at him in a way that was designed illegal bahis siteleri to make his blood boil further. She and Kerry continued to distract us at the table with a mixture of verbal innuendo and physical suggestion. The inevitable happened – the girls won.

“I know a great forfeit.” Paula said with a playful glint in her eye. “OK boys. Strip and do a lap of the glade naked.”

After a few groans and threats we complied. Norman and I had been affected by the antics of the lasses and were, dare I say, less than flaccid.

Paula and Kerry giggled almost uncontrollably as we peeled down our shorts. Kerry stared open mouthed at Norman who was very well endowed. Paula’s gaze was fixed on Simon, who had also been included in the dare and had been forced to strip.

We duly cavorted around the lawn for their pleasure and amusement. The noise of Norman’s dick slapping against his flat stomach drew howls of laughter from the girls as he leaped and jumped about the glade bathed in the light from the small wooden building.

The girls were still chuckling as we came back in and returned to the spots where we had left our clothes. Of course they weren’t there, the girls had hidden them.

“Who said you could get dressed again?” Paula teased as we continued the search. “Game for a re-match?” She asked in a tone that she knew would goad Simon into it.

Simon grabbed the cue from Kerry, “OK, you’re on. Come on Norman.” He said, recognising that pool wasn’t my game.

The drink was really kicking in – I sat on the sofa watching the game in a kind of detached bubble.

I noticed that Paula kept standing behind Simon and Kerry behind Norman when each took their shot. The girls licked their lips suggestively and made the odd attempt to brush up against a naked butt but, by and large, were less off putting.

I am not sure what would have happened if Simon had lost but mercifully he didn’t — the boys won with a triumphant cheer as Norman sunk the black.

The girls seemed quieter and more thoughtful than before, perhaps the first signs of a different kind of tension that had crept in to the proceedings.

“OK you two. Strip for us and give us a real show.” Simon demanded victoriously.

“We’ll need some music.” Paula said in a primative attempt to delay things.

Norman fumbled in his bag and produced his mobile phone. He pressed a few buttons and music rang out. The girls placed the butts of the cues in each corner pocket and proceeded to use them as poles.

They weren’t bad, they swung, dipped and gyrated sexily in time with the music. We cheered as each stared to pull at their top, tantalising and teasing us by raising and lowering the thin material higher each time. At last Kerry’s ample breast tumbled into view. I glanced across at Simon who had his eyes firmly fixed on Paula. He gasped openly as her larger and fuller breast fell into view.

Each girl peeled her tee shirt off, almost in perfect time as the first song finished.

Norman madly pressed more buttons until the music again flowed. Simon motioned with his finger for the girls to drop their shorts. The bent and provocatively sticking their asses into the air slowly pulled their tight shorts over their hips to reveal their smooth butt cheeks and the skimpiest set of matching thongs that I had ever seen.

The bulges of their clams were barely covered by the thin strip of material. Kerry’s were yellow and Paula’s were pale blue, each thin strip disappeared into the cleft of their ass as they continued to pull their shorts down their shapely thighs.

Kicking them off they spun around to show an equally revealing lack of material over their pubic regions. I am sure all of us lads there studied the edges for any tell tale signs of wispy pubes lurking beneath.

They started to put on a show for us, holding their breasts, gyrating and moving together, flamboyantly pouting and strutting in time with the rhythm.

They giggled as they accidently rubbed nipples, but each reacted in the same way — springing to an erection. As had my cock – even in my drunken state.

At last each rolled their thumbs into the thin waistband of their underwear. After a few teasing pulls they spun in tandem and pulled them down. They bent, trapping the thin string in their ass crack as long as they could before it sprang out and away. They both raised themselves up at that exact moment and hid their naked and exposed clams from our expectant and probing stare.

It was almost as if they had been practising, so perfect was their timing. Norman, Simon and I had long since stopped talking and all sat wide eyed, our gazes each fixed at a crotch awaiting the grand finale.

As the song faded they spun, cupping their hands over their muffs and with a final flurry pulled them away to reveal a pair of the most perfectly shaven and smooth cunts I had ever seen.

Kerry’s slender and neat slit was puffing open as she gazed at the array of hard and ready cocks before her. Paula hid canlı bahis siteleri her more fleshy gash effectively, keeping her legs closer together and only allowing the merest of flash of anything but her smooth and pale pubic region.

“There.” Said Paula. “Now you see ’em — what next?” She said eyeing the obvious hard-ons we were all sporting. She licked her lips involuntarily.

“What about a decider?” Kerry suggested, her eyes fixed on Norman’s huge member.

“OK then but we’ll decide the forfeit and no backing out.” Simon demanded as he gathered their clothes and tossed them behind the bar. “Fair’s fair.”

“OK.” Paula nodded in acknowledgement, “But only if you win, but be prepared for anything, before, during and after.” Paula retorted with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Kerry broke off for the naked contest. I studied her dangling tits intently as she leant over the table and took her shot. I hoped beyond hope that she would have a shot in front of me so that I could watch her ass as she bent over the table.

The girls were full of devilment, each targeting one of the players. They bent lavishly at the table, wiggling their bare butts with each shot. They rubbed and kneaded their exposed tits, pinched at their nipples and licked their lips provocatively as the game progressed.

They were giggling but must have been suffering from the booze as were we all. I noticed that Kerry’s speech had become a little slurred but Paula seemed quite immune to it all, she seemed sharp and in control.

After a few poor shots things looked bad for the girls. Paula whispered something in Kerry’s ear, she seemed shocked but giggled and nodded. They stood opposite from Norman as he lined up, each made a grab for the other’s left breast and began to massage it sexily, heaving and acting out a pretend orgasm.

Norman missed — this was their cue. At each shot the sexual interference became more extreme, innuendo had been replaced by flagrant sexual exhibitionism.

At Simon’s next shot Paula bent in front of him and inserted a finger into her gash. Not content with that she withdrew, circled her asshole and thrust it in, right up to the knuckle. As the ball rebounded off the pocket and out she turned and sucked her finger clean with as innocent an expression as she could muster.

Norman found it hard to mount the table as his cock was at full attention, much to the girl’s amusement. This time Kerry ran the cue butt along her cunt, then Paula knelt before Kerry, stuck her tongue out and made an imaginary pass at her cleanly shaven snatch. Gaining no reaction from him Kerry forced Paula’s face to her groin, only their laughter was stopping the sexual tension boiling over.

Paula stood and made a grab for Kerry’s cunt and ran a finger along the smooth slit.

“My God, you are wet.” She said in surprise. Kerry blushed but took the bait, she spread her cunt lips wide open and flicked the exposed nub of her erect clit, directly in Norman’s eye line.

Norman nearly fell off the table, but the ploy worked – they successfully called a foul as his rock hard dick brushed against a ball.

By now the girls were giggling so hard that neither could hit a barn door and Simon killed the game with a long shot. — in spite of Paula’s party piece — sucking her own nipple.

The mood had changed – Kerry was sat on Norman’s knee and was deep kissing him and Paula had a profound look of lust in her eyes every time she looked at Simon or rather at his rampant cock.

“What about the forfeit?” Simon said as he moved towards the bar. He grabbed the remote and demanded his prize, “What ever they do in the video you two must do now.”

Simon knew exactly what he was doing, he pressed play and skipped to a part of the DVD he obviously knew well.

I am not sure at what point it had happened but the competition and the unashamed lust had over overtaken any sense of morality in the room. None of us took note or even cared at that moment as the video flickered into life above the open glass panelled doors.

I am no German speaking expert but I am sure the word “sisters” flashed across the screen as the highlights as what would follow cut in.

“My God that is pervy – are you sure?” Paula questioned in astonishment.

The whole room fell silent, I think we all realised that Simon fantasised about his sister and Paula getting it on.

“I’ve seen worse.” Kerry blurted out. “In fact I can think of much dirtier things we could do for them.” She said brazenly playing up to it.

Simon fast forwarded to a lesbian scene.

“OK then, give us a show.” He said, looking straight at Paula, daring her to back out.

She gulped as she grabbed the back of Kerry’s head. She planted a deep kiss on her lips and made a grab for her left breast. They each climbed on to the pool table locked in their embrace, brushing away the remaining balls as they fell together. Each girl looked up at the screen and tried to emulate the action.

The scene was the usual stuff, plenty of huff and puffing as two girls played at being lesbian on the screen. The two on the pool table were a little different. Paula sucked Kerry’s tits with great skill and soon had her writhing and panting in ecstasy.

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