Miriam remains unsatisfied (part 18)

On a hot summers’ day our trio meets again, but no one wants to satisfy poor Miriam. She needs something bigger.

 

 

A sunny Saturday morning and I’ve got some errands to run for work. I smile to myself, naughtily, and hum like Pooh the bear while I stuff my bag with a towel and suntan into the car. My humming is interrupted by a handsome guy who  plants himself right in front of me. "Where to, gorgeous?" He asks with his morning voice. “Erm – I have to run some errands for work?” I try half-heartedly. “Really?” answers Boris and points to my big beach bag with little dolphins on it. “I’m coming with you” he says and sits down on the passenger seat, plainly showing that he won’t take no for an answer.

 I sit behind the wheel, fuming, and start a long monologue explaining where I’m going and why. To visit sculptor George and get some sculptures. To a little village by the sea. Maybe I’ll have a quick dip if there’s time. Yes. A sun-tan would do me good. And George works in stone mostly, making egg-shaped sculptures.

Boris interrupts me in a macho way, by putting his slightly rough hand on my knee, slowly making his way under my frilly skirt towards my crotch. He watches me change countenance with a sly smile. My frown disappears and my lips open slightly in sweet expectation. When he reaches my exposed, almost clean-shaven pussy, I’m already quite wet. I tremble and hold on to the wheel trying to concentrate on the road. Boris’s skilled forefinger gently circles my labia and massages the root of my clit. He dips his finger into my pussy a few times to moisten it in my juices and I help him by lifting my butt just a little. Fortunately the traffic is heavy and the going is slow.

 “Why are you  running errands with no panties on?” he asks huskily after he’s been working away at my ever hornier pussy for a while. We’re standing in a traffic jam and he can really work his magic. “Erm, because I was running late.” I mutter. Boris laughs and then runs his juice-smeared fingers through my short ruffled hair and kisses me passionately. With his other hand he quickly reaches down my top and pinches my nipple, making me twist even further into his arms. He pulls away to avoid people seeing us and hides his hand under my skirt. He does wonders with my clit, pushing two fingers into my slit and finding my G-spot every now and again. He teases me a bit and then pulls away again.He holds me at the edge of orgasm all the time while we’re stuck in the traffic jam, but once the traffic gets going again, he just calms me down a bit and stops. “Later” he says, a bit out of breath himself as well.

George and Donatella are drinking espresso in front of their house. They’re a little surprised to see my escort, especially Donatella, as she’s  wearing rather less than you’d normally wear in front of strangers. She’s dressed only in a flimsy summer nightie, revealing a large part of her wonderfully tanned, melon-like boobs. Boris (and me) can’t keep our eyes off them. Donatella goes to change while we three go into the workshop to select the sculptures. The men start talking about different publishers, the quality of the press and prices while I rummage around the shelves. Once I’ve found what I’m looking for we go back to the kitchen. Donatella is chopping onions, dressed in jeans hot pants and a bikini top, over which she has a white, lace-trimmed apron.

“George, go get some salad and strawberries from the garden, please.” Donatella says. George nods, but hops into the living room to show Boris some of his artwork. “Miriam, come with me, you’ll pick strawberries and I’ll get the radicchio.” he says and puts a basket into my hand.

The sun is blazing, and a trail of sweat drips between my boobs as I’m squatting in the strawberry patch. “Isn’t this an odd time of day to be picking up fruit and veg? I ask George. He’s already filled his salad bowl.“It is, but we just didn’t think of it earlier”, grins George and comes over to help.

As we’re squatting, he notices my lack of panties. He seems to have a few extra drops of sweat on his forehead. In a low voice he says: “I can see you’re very hot.” and traces his finger from my sweaty forehead across my nose and my half-opened lips (I can’t help licking his finger), over the stream of drops between my breasts and straight down to my pussy. 

I’m all excited from Boris’s teasing in the car earlier so I almost scream when he touches me. George pushes my button a few times and makes his way towards the love-hole. He sighs, feeling how soft and smooth it is, but only carries his finger to his nose and then licks it with another sigh. He takes a large, not quite ripe strawberry and pushes it into my juicy cunt. My pussy needs something much bigger and more substantial, but apparently it’s going to take some time before someone pleases me properly. 

---