Hubby's Adventures 09

We approached the cafe just as a waitress was setting tables and chairs outside.

"Are you open?" I asked, and the waitress looked at me blankly. "I mean can we sit at one of these tables?"

"Sure!" She responded, "I'll be right out to take your order." and with that, she disappeared inside the cafe.

We sat around a larger, circular table, dragging some chairs from one of the others so all seven of us could sit together. Sofi sat to my right and Leslie to my left. Omar was the other side of Leslie, followed by Abi, Emma and David, completing the circle next to Sofi.

"What a night!" I started, and Omar sniggered, shaking his head slowly and looking down at the table.

"Yes. What a night," he repeated, and with that I suddenly felt slightly embarrassed at the memory of what I'd done for the first time last night. All the stigma society still exercised at such behaviour was still very real in my mind, and I felt the weight of it starting to bear down on me.

Then David chimed in, the first time I'd heard him speak, "It was amazing!" And with that simple, innocent observation, I felt relaxed again. No one at this table was about to negatively judge anyone else at the table. I felt a great connection with everyone here.

I stared intently into the doorway of the cafe to see the clock on the far wall. It read a little after 6am. As soon as I saw the time I noticed the waitress was returning and, presumably, thought I was staring at her. She flashed me a winning smile and approached us, apologising for taking so long.

"What would you like?" She asked, pointing the question at me as she came to a halt at my shoulder.

"Coffees all round?" I asked the group, and most nodded their agreement.

Emma's face took on the look of a little girl, as she asked, "Can I have an orange juice?"

"Of course," beamed the waitress, "anything else?"

"Do you do milkshakes?" Asked David, and with that, the waitress hurried to his shoulder, bending her hips slightly toward him.

"Oh we do, what flavor do you like?"

Emma and Sofi gave her a look that everyone understood to mean, "back off."

"Chocolate?" asked David, meekly.

"Ooh, good choice sir!" She responded, encouragingly.

Emma actually tutted at this and rolled her eyes away. The waitress smiled at her own little victory, and disappeared back into the cafe.

After a moment of silence, Emma asked, "Does anybody even know what time it is?"

"Just gone 6," I replied.

"Oh my god I'm not even tired yet," Emma triumphantly informed us, "I can probably stay up all day."

At that remark, we all smiled at her. Not in a patronising way, but in a loving way. Emma was an adult, but had a charming innocence about her. Sofi was looking at her with the most amount of affection, and I saw her mouth the words, "I love you." to Emma, her best friend.

Emma beamed back at Sofi. Her smile went all the way over her entire being, from the wide, open lips revealing her teeth, to the adoring gaze from her watery-focussed eyes, to her completely relaxed but attentive body language, leaning forward in her seat, arms on the table. She stared at Sofi like this long enough for me to notice everyone else looking at her. We all recognised the love in her eyes and we all fell in love with their love for each other. To recognise that love was to be in love with her.

Emma didn't have to repeat, "I love you too," back to Sofi, like some automaton, socially programmed to return a set response. Sofi, and all present knew it instinctively.

The spell was broken by the returning waitress, who brought all our drinks, with no small measure of skill, to our table. She set our drinks in front of each of us, leaving David's to last, flirtatiously squeezing his arm as she turned to leave. David didn't seem to notice as he brought the milkshake to his mouth and sucked the sugary liquid through the straw into his eager mouth.

Emma and Sofi watched him gulp the first few mouthfuls down, then, for the briefest of moments, looked at each other with a knowing glance, before turning to their own drinks.

We all followed suit and almost as one raised our drinks and sipped in unison.

"Oh I love being part of this gang!" gushed Emma.

"Yeah," David agreed, pausing from his shake just long enough to gasp the word out, before returning to his draining of the glass.

A gang? I'd never really been part of a gang before. Some, what I would call friendship groups, whom I met up with from time to time, but never what I'd see as a gang.

However, as I sat there thinking about it, I guess we had witnessed each other's most intimate behaviours and feelings. Such things are a feature of gangs and not so much the acquaintances one meets irregularly, every now and then.

"I don't think I've ever been part of a gang before." I finally said out loud, hoping for an answer to what being part of a gang actually meant.

"There are different kinds of gangs," Omar offered.

"You're fucking right there!" Leslie interrupted, with a voice that told of her experience in such things.

"You mean you were in a gang?" Abi asked.

Leslie nodded at the table and sighed, "Yeah, I've done a whole lot of shit."

Now Sofi turned to face her, and reminded, "Mum, you don't have to tell these people if you don't feel comfortable with it."

Leslie returned Sofi's concerned look and replied, "I feel more comfortable with these people, our gang," and she did air quotes with the word, "than anyone else in my life. I want to tell someone, but I'll only do it if you're one hundred percent comfortable with me doing so."

"These people are all good," Sofi smiled reassuringly, "go for it."

"I never knew my parents," Leslie began, "I spent my whole childhood being bounced around different foster homes. Apparently, or so I was told once by a social worker, I had an older brother. I would daydream about meeting him and he would look after me. But that never happened. Unless you've been through this kind of existence, you can never really know what it's like."

"Totally agree," I piped up, and everyone looked at me now, so I explained my response. "I was adopted at age five." I nodded for Leslie to continue.

"Oh, I never realised," Leslie said with sincere sympathy, rubbing my arm, "You'll know what some of those social workers can be like, then. Not all of them," and she raised her hand with that caviat, "some of them are helpful. But some of them are not. Looking back now, I guess they were just doing their job, but I like to think I'd show a bit more compassion for some of those poor kids if I was in their shoes."

"You never met your brother?" Omar asked, with some concern in his voice, "I miss my family so much. It must feel hard for you."

Leslie laughed inwardly, "I still secretly think I might find him one day."

"Apparently, I had a little sister." I remarked, recognising the connection, "My only recollection of my parents was my Mum being pregnant. Some time later, a social worker came to visit, and my adopted parents told me I had a sister that might come to live with us. I remember being excited about the prospect, but nothing more was ever said about it. I sometimes wonder how she is."

Now Omar smiled enigmatically, "Maybe you two are brother and sister."

We all chuckled at the suggestion, "What, because all us white people look the same?" I asked, trying to be funny.

"No!" Omar said, seemingly offended at the suggestion. I raised my hand in apology, but then we all went quiet for a while.

Eventually, I looked round at Leslie and she looked back at me. An immense feeling of sobriety overwhelmed me as I studied her face. She had the same blue eyes as me; the same wavy, straw-coloured hair; even the same high cheek bones. She was also sporting the same athletic body shape, despite her penchant for junk food.

Now I looked at her expression and found her to be apparently analysing my physical appearance in the same way. Our jaws almost imperceptibly dropped, simultaneously.

"How old are you?" Leslie asked me, deadly serious.

"Thirty six." I replied.

"Five years older than me." she concluded, and I was aware the rest of the gang were thinking the same thing now.

It was an awkward prospect that Leslie might be my sister, given I'd fancied her from the moment I met her. That and the fact she'd given me the blow job of my life a few weeks ago!

But Leslie diffused all that guilt in one breath, enthusiastically gushing, "Oh I'd love it if you were my brother!"

I smiled warmly at her, and somewhere inside me, I wished for it too.

"I'm getting a bit tired," said Emma eventually, "let's all go back to my place. My parents are away. I'd love the company."

We all glanced round at each other and nodded our approval of the plan.

On the way to Emma's, Leslie walked close to my side and after a few minutes, I wrapped an arm round the back of her waist. She responded by snuggling into my side, as we strolled through the beautiful morning. It felt amazing having this warm, loving body holding me as we walked.

In front of us, Abi and Omar strolled, hand in hand, and in front of them, Sofi and Emma walked either side of David, giggling and talking about something I couldn't make out.

After about an hour, we made it back to Emma's house, or her parent's house at least. It was impressive. A two story detached, with a big drive. She opened the door and invited us in, leading the way to the enormous living room. There were a number of huge leather sofas there, and we flopped down on three of them, in the same groups as which we'd walked.

Emma turned on the TV and we sat in silence watching a fairly run of the mill music video. When, thankfully, it came to an end, Emma leaped out of the Sofa she'd been sharing with Sofi and David, and announced, "I'm going to bed."

After a few paces toward the open staircase at one side of the room, she turned to Sofi and David and emphasized, "Come on!"

The remaining two teenagers leapt out of the sofa in one swift movement and followed Emma up the stairs. As the last of the pairs of feet disappeared from view, Emma called out, "There's other bedrooms if you need them. Help yourselves to anything!" before the distinctive sound of a door closing upstairs.

Another music video came and went, and I heard some giggling sounds coming from upstairs. Clearly they weren't going to sleep any time soon. I saw Abi glance up at the ceiling and say to Omar, "Let's go upstairs." Omar nodded and followed, leaving Leslie and I alone. We snuggled down next to each other on the massive sofa and held each other in our arms. I could feel her breath on my neck and it was melting my heart.

"We could get a DNA test, you know." she cooed into my ear.

"Yeah," I agreed, "they're not expensive really. About sixty or so."

"They take about three weeks to get the result back. Then we'd know for sure."

I nodded and left it at that. After a brief moment of silence, she rubbed her hand over my chest and torso, caressing me. Loving me. I squeezed her tighter into me and she audibly sighed, increasing the movement of her caress.

"I so want a big brother to look after me. I would look after him in return in any way I could." she explained, her hand moving closer to my crotch each time she circled my chest and tummy. I felt my heart speed up slightly, and she must've felt it too. Perhaps she even heard it beat more urgently with her ear pressed against my ribs.

Her finger tips just slipped, ever so slightly into the waistband of my jeans, and she left them there, motionless as my breathing sped up too now.

After a brief moment, she slowly pushed her hand further into my jeans and was millimetres away from my cock. She didn't push down any further, instead making delicate little circles on my skin. It was an amazing sensation.

Sure enough, my cock started to respond. I could feel it fattening up against the denim, and growing up my waist as it lengthened. After a few seconds, it had grown far enough to meet her fingers, and she purred in my ear, letting her fingers continue the circles over my hardening member.

"Mmm" she purred, "I would do anything for my brother." and my cock twitched under her fingers as she said it. She giggled at the obvious response to her incestuous implication, and responded herself by dragging her fingers down, over my helmet and around my shaft. Then she rubbed the skin up and down the hardening core of my cock.

To my surprise, she then removed her hand from my jeans and put her fingers to her nose.

"You haven't even cleaned this thing!" she blurted out and jumped up from the sofa. Now she walked away from me, leaving me horny and disappointed. I didn't follow her. I just laid on the sofa where I was, feeling sorry for myself.

After a couple of minutes sorrowful contemplation, I was delighted to see her return to the doorway. She'd been to the kitchen and fetched a bowl of water along with some towels. Oh, this looked like it was going to be a real treat!

Kneeling down next to me, she undid my jeans and pulled them down to my knees. Next, she wetted one of the towels and began wiping the tops of my thighs. The water was hot and it felt amazing. Having spent some time acclimatising me to the temperature, she moved upwards, to my balls. They must've contracted a little as she touched them, because I felt the skin of my sack tighten up. Leslie smiled broadly at them and continued her delicate administration of hot water. My cock was at full mast, as she heated my grateful balls, and it looked pretty impressive jutting out from the hot towel.

Eventually, she started working on the shaft. Just the base at first, wrapping the towel round my girth with her fingers and gently wiping up and down. With each stroke, she made it a little further up the solid, throbbing falace in front of her. Barely a millimetre at a time she increased her wipes, and I felt like I could come any second.

After some minutes of exquisite attention to the main body of the shaft, she made it to the part where my helmet meets the top of the shaft. The sensation of that hot towel being pressed against my most sensitive area was out of this world. And she knew it, holding the towel motionless, tight against me, enjoying the feeling and awesome sight of my fully erect cock, bucking and twitching under her perfectly weighted grip.

After the writhing cock abated it's involuntary movements, she slowly pulled the towel down the shaft again, pulling the skin away from the swollen, purple mushroom and revealing it fully to her excited gaze.

Now she rinsed the towel in the hot water and wrung it out. Her next move was to engulf my mushroom in the hot towel and when she did, I thought I was going to cum immediately. The throbbing of my over excited cock was enhanced with more massive jolts, as my balls pleaded with me to let my load go.

Once again, Leslie expertly held my helmet still in the hot, wet prison of the towel until the protest from my thrashing cock subsided. When, at last, it did, she removed the towel from my cock with a final wipe and dropped the soiled material in the water bowl.

There stood my massive, hard erection, clean and proud. Leslie placed a soft dry towel on my cock and balls now, patting and dabbing away the wetness. Once she was satisfied she'd completed the cleaning job to a high standard, she looked admiringly at the monumental, hard, upright flesh cylinder in front of her and gave it a loving kiss, as if it had been a good boy, and she was rewarding it's bravery.

Once again, my cock twitched its response and Leslie smiled proudly.

"Would you like me to suck it?" She asked, as if she were offering me a nice drink.

"Yeah." I gasped, unable to string anything more intelligent together, and with that, she held the base of my aching cock and lowered her head slowly, inexorably toward my need.

I watched as she parted her lips slightly and lowered her head further. Next I saw her move my cock around in little circles, and start gently rubbing the tip of my dark purple mushroom on her lips. My head fell back onto the arm of the sofa as I felt her tease the monster in me.

Pretty soon she was drooling a little over my cock and her saliva was lubricating the movements, allowing my swollen member to slip into her hot, wet mouth. As I'd noted before that day, this wasn't going to last long.

Down, down and further down went her sucking, slurping, loving mouth over my straining beast, when, with a nudge, my helmet met the back of her throat. This was a signal for her to start coaxing the skin around the base of my cock up and down the iron-hard core.

Once she'd established a gentle rhythm for her hand, she raised her head half an inch before dropping it back on my stiff member, nudging my helmet with her throat again. Again and again she stroked and nudged me like this, and after only about five such movements, I started to cum.

"Oh fuck!" I breathed into the air as she relentlessly brought me over the edge.

The first squeeze from my balls brought a decent sized blast from me and she swallowed it instantly, humming her approval. The second squirt was thicker and I heard the gulping noise as she swallowed that spoonful. The third felt more like a watery trickle as it left me, and I felt the inside of her mouth contort as she swallowed that one.

Unusually for me, I dried up after three squirts, but it still felt good to have this expert giving me another mind-blowing suck job.

Still she carried on stroking and nudging that thing, and although I'd shot my entire load into her eager mouth, I didn't want her to stop yet. She sensed this and carried on, but not urgently sucking and swallowing now, more lovingly taking care of me. A couple of minutes of this and I started to soften. She softened her actions further in response, so that now, she was only cleaning me with her tongue, inside her mouth.

Eventually, I'd gone completely soft and she let it flop out of her mouth, and rest on my completely empty balls. I had never been so thoroughly satisfied and I fell in love with her for it.

Leslie climbed back onto the sofa next to me and rested the side of her smiling, satisfied face on my shoulder, while I sank into an immediate, restful sleep.