Honey six

It always amazes me that beneath the facade of every woman, they have hidden depths. Even when you are friends, they can still surprise you, given the opportunity. A couple of weeks ago I was at a loose end and was sitting in the garden enjoying the summer evening sunshine when a head popped over the fence. “Hiya, Jack! How’s your day been?”

The head belonged to Emma, my next door neighbour. She was separated, and moved in about a year ago. When she first arrived she was struggling with a large box of books, which was threatening to break, so I offered to help. An afternoon and several cups of tea later we became good friends. She often chatted but I had never seen her as anything more than a neighbour.

As we chatted about our day, another head popped over the opposite fence. “Hello you two. What are you planning?”

Marjorie was married and had lived next door since before I moved in. She was always happy to chat, but never flirted with men. Her husband worked as a rep for a computer manufacturer and was always away, sometimes for weeks at a time. Everyone suspected that he was having an affair, but never mentioned it to her.

“Why don’t you both come round to mine,” Marjorie suggested. “We can order pizza and have a laugh.”

I looked at Emma. She agreed that it would be nicer than spending the night in front of the television. So I went in, had a shower, dressed and went round to Marjorie’s house. By the time I arrived, with a bottle of wine, Emma was already there and they were choosing pizzas.

Now the evening went pretty much the same way as usual. We drank wine, swapped slices of pizza, talked about life the universe and everything, and generally had a nice relaxing time. Although I had noticed that something was different. I couldn’t put my finger on it but, every now and then I noticed that they looked at each other, looked a t me and then grinned, as if they were planning something. Then Emma suggested that we play a game. “What would you like to play?” I asked innocently, expecting them to suggest a board game or something similar.

Emma smiled at Marjorie like a naughty schoolgirl and said, “Have you ever played strip poker?”

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. I was sitting in a room with two women, one married, who had never even mentioned sex in all the time I had known them.

“Strip poker? Are you sure?” I replied.

“Why not?” smiled Emma. “It’s only a game. Are you chicken then?” she teased.

“Perhaps he is worried we’ll laugh. He might not be well endowed,” chipped in Marjorie

“Or he’s just crap at poker,” added Emma.

That did it. They had hit my weak spot. I was a very competitive person and I always felt duty bound to take on anyone that challenged me. “O.K. then ladies,” I said, “let’s play.”

Well after a few hands, sitting around the circular dining table, all three of us had lost some clothing. I was stripped to the waist (Where did she get three aces from?), which I was cool with. My upper body looked pretty good, but I was worried about losing my jeans as my legs are not exactly a joy to the eyes. But what was concerning me more was that, despite my best efforts, my cock was beginning to respond to the sight before me.

Emma had lost a lot of her clothing quite quickly and, having just shown her losing hand, was reaching behind her and unfastening her bra. Although she took it off in an embarrassed rush and covered them by folding her arms, I caught sight of her small, pert breasts and hardened nipples. She blushed as she caught my eye. “Don’t look!” she giggled. But it was said in such a way as to suggest that she wanted me to do more than just look.

Marjorie was wearing a plain dress at the beginning of the game. But when she lost it I couldn’t believe what she was concealing underneath. With a quiet “Damn it!” whispered under her breath, she got up and turned her back to Emma and myself. She reached up her back and began to pull down the zip of her dress. As the zip descended it revealed a purple and black basque, suspender belt, black thong and stockings. The dress fell to the floor and Marjorie turned to face me. “Do you like what you see then?”

“It’s very pretty,” I uttered, trying to maintain my innocence. However my alter ego, getting stiffer in my pants was screaming “I want to fuck you senseless.” I was feeling uncomfortable with the situation. Here I was, with my next door neighbours undressing in front of me. But because they had said that it was just a bit of fun I was straining not to react, just in case I offended them.

“I think we should stop now," said Emma, looking at Marjorie, “I think Jack is getting excited."

Phew! The relief was clear to see. I thought that they had decided that they had teased me enough and were going to end the game and get dressed. But I was wrong.

“I think we should play something else Emma,” whispered Marjorie.

“How about Honey six?” suggested Emma.

“Honey six?” I had never heard of this game. But it wasn’t long before Emma and Marjorie had explained it and I realised that the whole evening had been a set up. Marjorie went into the kitchen and returned with a plastic bottle of squeezy honey. In the meantime Emma produced a die from her handbag and placed it on the table. They proceeded to explain the rules of Honey Six. Players take turns rolling the die. If a player rolls a six, they can squeeze some of the honey on any part of their body. They can then choose a player to lick it off.

The game began. The die was rolled and passed round a few times. My senses heightened to the excitement of seeing a six appear. And then, there it was. Emma, who had rolled it, stared into my eyes. With her eyes fixed on mine she uncrossed her arms, displaying her small but attractive breasts, reached down the bottle and proceeded to squeeze a globule of honey on her nipple. “Come on Jack, I want you to suck it off me.”

I leaned forward across the table and placed my lips around the honey-encased nipple and sucked slowly. She sighed. I released her nipple and licked my lips.

The game continued. Sixes were rolled, honey was squeezed, and the atmosphere had changed to one of erotic tension. We all knew where this game was going. Emma, obviously aroused when Marjorie had licked the thick syrupy honey from between the cheeks of her bottom, began to masturbate, two fingers probing her wet pussy. Marjorie, now free of the suspenders and thong, grinned at me as a six appeared. “I think I am going to enjoy this,” she purred as she took the bottle jammed the nozzle in her pussy and squeezed hard.

She leaned back in her chair, spread her legs and rested them on the table. I took the hint and, getting on my hands and knees, crawled under the table and emerged between her legs. Seeing my head appear between her legs her hands grabbed my head, and pulled it into her own personal honey pot. I licked the honey, now hot and mixed up with her own juices, from her pussy. She was pushing my head harder and harder into her pussy, making it difficult to breathe as my nose was now pressed firmly into her black triangular bush. Her hands were grasping handfuls of my hair and twisting it painfully as she erupted in an orgasm of epic proportions, accompanied by a scream that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Eventually, she released her grip and I extricated my head from between her legs. I looked up at her, my face covered in cum and honey, and said, “I don’t appear to be very good at this game. I haven’t thrown a six yet.”

“Poor you!” soothed Emma. “I tell you what. As you have been such a sport we will give you a free go.”

Emma handed me the squeezy honey bottle, now half empty. I sat back in my chair and wriggled out of my jeans. My cock broke free from its moorings and displayed itself, hot and hard. Emma handed me the bottle and knelt down, so that I could feel her hot breath on my shaft. I proceeded to dribble the honey on my cock. Emma hardly waited for me to finish before plunging her mouth around me and taking my whole length in her mouth. As I closed my eyes in pleasure, Marjorie grabbed the bottle, pulled it free from my hand and squeezed it on my nipples, sucking and biting them as Emma began sucking harder. This was unbelievable. Here I was having honey sucked off me by two women who had never given me any clue of their sexuality in all the time we have been neighbours.

“Oh dear!” sighed Marjorie, “We’ve run out of honey!”

Emma removed my cock from her mouth. “And I was just getting started!”

Marjorie disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared with a large tub of chocolate chip ice cream.

She straddled me like a Harley Davison, just above my cock. She ripped the lid off the tub, scooped a handful of ice cream and sandwiched it in between her breasts. I didn’t need asking. I plunged my face into her cleavage. Meanwhile, Emma had also taken a mouthful of ice cream, dribbled it between her breasts and, pressing then around my cock, began to rub them up and down my shaft.

It was an unbearable ecstasy. I felt my cock stiffen. I wanted to warn them of my impending orgasm but my mouth was stifled by Marjorie’s breasts and chocolate chip ice cream. Suddenly my cock exploded. The hot liquid sprayed out from between Emma’s breasts, and hit her under the chin. Emma, caught by surprise threw her head back and the remainder of my orgasm splattered Marjorie’s ample bottom.

After a while, I removed my head from Marjorie’s suffocating breasts, gasping for air. Majorie laughed out loud, at the sight of my face, flushed and covered in chocolate chip ice cream. Then she climbed off me, still giggling, the ice cream dripping from her pendulous breasts. Emma stood up, her breasts plastered with chocolate chip ice cream, scraped my cum of her chin with her fingers and sucked them clean. She then licked the cum of Marjorie’s bottom, making her squeal as her tongue strayed down to her pussy. Finally she licked my limp cock, looked up at me and smiled. “Game over.” She purred.