Dragonflies The Duncan Peters Files

by Fontien, Samantha

  After dropping his clothes onto the bathroom floor, he stepped into the high power shower that he had just started to run. He stepped in and let the monsoon of water wash over him. The day had been long; he found himself reaching for the glass and took another swig, nearly half emptying it. Yes Duncan was surly on a mission tonight and that was to get as shit-faced as he could. By the time he stepped out of the shower and had grabbed a towel, which he wrapped around his waist, his glass was empty again. He thought nothing of returning downstairs to the blaring music of the ‘Rolling Stones’. His head moved in time as he grabbed the bottle again and refilled his drink. He slunk back into the couch, the bottle of scotch strategically placed on the floor below him for easy access. As the night rolled on, Duncan was steadily working his way through the bottle. At one point he was on his feet moving, or rather swaying to the music. The last tune he remembered was ‘Sympathy for the devil’ and the clank of the nearly empty bottle hitting the floor, before he lost his balance, due to the moves he was making to the tune. He had a butt of a long gone out cigarette in one hand, and had now progressed to drinking directly from the bottle, singing ‘Whoa…. Woo’s’ at the appropriate times. And unbelievably still with the towel wrapped around his well-defined and muscular waist bearing in mind he was a total ‘self-induced mess’.

  Mission accomplished!!!!....

  Duncan felt the room swirl as he tried to focus his eyes. Something felt wrong, but good. He hadn’t a clue what was happening. He could hear the familiar sounds of the ‘Rolling Stones’. The very same song he had blacked out too. He still couldn’t focus his eyes, but he could feel hands moving on him, causing him to stir. He could feel himself in someone’s mouth and it wasn’t Juliette’s. More to the point he was impressed with their skills, as he was as pissed as a fart. In fact he was impressed with himself for essentially being able to get it up, but that was really only down to the excellent skills of the lips that were around him. He could now also feel another pair of lips on his torso. He could also feel the pert nipples belonging to a busty lady. ‘Dam’ he thought, ‘Fucking eyes focus now’, and then a fear momentarily took hold and please don’t belong to some chap’. Thoughts whizzed into his mind, knowing there were two pairs of lips on him. He had forgotten he was at Rubin’s. He was glad he heard the moans of two women, each moaning their ‘Mmmm’s’. He was immersed in the sensual sensations that coursed through him. His cock, getting harder with every tongue that made contact with his body, their tongues semi-worshiping him. He had already started to involuntarily groan with pleasure. He couldn’t help suppress the groans or gasps he made.

  The mouth had disengaged from his shaft, and its tongue was now flicking the tip. It was quickly joined by the tongue that had teased his torso, his nipples hard, sensitive to the touch. Both tongues flicked and darted, before each taking it in turns to graze slowly down to the base and to his already hardened balls. He could only place his hands on either girl’s heads, as they moved up and down on his cock, while he groaned. He was only brought out of what he thought was the best dream he had ever had, to a familiar voice and chuckle.

  “Nice one old chap, I’ll leave you be then, enjoy my little takeaway.”

  He had barely focused his eyes which were still spinning around in his head, to catch Rubin and a very busty lady on one arm, and, who he thought was the girl from earlier, leave the dimly lit room.

  The towel had now fallen to either side of him, as he semi lay there, his erect cock being worked on, by the two ladies, who had started to disrobe, while kissing each other. He opened his eyes and looked at the sight before him. Rubin’s little takeaway as he called it. There before him knelt two beautifully stunning women, one Brunette, and a Red head, both with big tits like they were ordered especially for his personal taste. Rubin had a gift with women. He was a natural charmer, who Duncan would say, “Could charm the knickers’ off a nun”. This was typical Rubin, he thought that sex, was the cure for everything. Sex simply made everything better. Even as Rubin thought, ‘Your wife cheating on you’ apparently. But fuck it, these girls were amazing as the now naked beauties moved towards him, and started to lick his throbbing cock again.

  Their hands moved on him, his hands moved between their breasts, as he took turns in tweaking each nipple at the appropriate hand to each nipple. He leaned up on one elbow, as the original mouth that had made him as hard as he was, resumed her indulgence of pursing her lips around his base, and his fully erect cock deep in her throat. He was delighted to see it was the Red head, somehow he knew instantly it was her, with her bold red lipstick. The Brunette had now moved up his chest again. He recognized her pull of his nipple with her teeth, as her tongue continued to dance across his torso, to his neck. He felt the heat of her breath, as she grazed his lobe, working her way to his mouth, as she grabbed his chin and pulled him towards her mouth, which also adorned a bold red lip colour.

  Her tongue found his with ease, as it brushed and glided over his firmly. Red had now also disengaged her lips from his wet juicy cock. His kissing intensified, as Red, joined in. The Brunette now had a hold of his shaft, she moved above him, her opening hovering above him, as she started to slowly descend towards his base. He stopped her, holding her waist, as she hovered just above him. As tempting as it was, he knew better, being a military man, that you never ever go in exposed. It has been embedded into every recruit that signed with any of the armed services, no matter how nice a girl looked; always wear a rubber on your pecker

  “I don’t suppose either of you lovely ladies have a rubber do you?” he looked between the two. “I’m sorry ladies, if you want this deep sea-diver to go fishing, I need a jonnie!”

  The Brunette leaned over the arm of the couch to her bag and reached in smiling. “You looking for one of these?” She held up the shiny pink foil square and handed it to him smiling, “happy to oblige,” she laughed. He took the square foil between his teeth and tore it open, rolling it down onto his rock hard length in one swift move, like a true seasoned professional. She moaned an “Ohhhh” and started to move slowly up and down on him, while Duncan fondled each woman’s nipples simultaneously,

  Red took a firm hold of his mouth. His head was spinning; with the desire and also the copious amounts he had drunk to extinguish the nightmare of memories now ingrained into his memory banks from earlier on, that night.

  The Brunette moved faster as she started to grind into him. He could only lay there and take the onslaught her pelvis made against his groin, until she started to almost howl, as she started to slow. Red moved forward, their lips and the two started to kiss, their tongues entwining, as they switched places, Red now hovering above Duncan’s dripping cock, which throbbed as she slid down, while she pinched her nipples, pulling on them excitedly. He lay there as she bounced with vigour, causing her boobs to bounce wildly, her hands were now firmly on Duncan’s abdomen, her nails, pulling the skin as she dragged them slowly down his torso, which caused him to push up involuntarily, as she dug harder on their descent from his chest, which was dusted with the right amount of manly hair. He could feel his rod starting to pulse, as she moved quicker, grinding as she gyrated hard on him. He could take it no more, as he quickly grabbed her waist and knelt up. He flipped her over onto her back, as he placed her ankles on his broad muscular shoulders to her squeals of delight at his handling of her.

  His pelvis slapped against her, as he slammed hard, the Brunette watched as she moved onto her hands and knees like a feline, her arse bared to him. He pulled out of Red, grabbing his hard dripping rod, and rose to his feet, before he lined himself up to her opening and plunged his length hard, as deep as he could go, and slammed against her as she yelled ‘Ohh God” several times before he felt his load rise, he knew he couldn’t hold it back any longer.

  She must have felt his cock throb hard when he pulled out of her, as she had returned to her knees, with red, and were both waiting for him, their mouths open, eagerly awaiting his creamy load, which, he promptly
shot, covering both of their mouths. As he squeezed the last drops of cum out, in a typical porn stereotype fashion, that he had just experienced, both girls kissed. Duncan let go of his still hard cock, his hands now at the back of each of their heads egging them on. Mind you, with what he had just experienced they certainly didn’t need any encouragement.

  Duncan grabbed his smokes from the floor and lit one, drawing on it hard, before exhaling a huge plume of smoke escaping ‘from his mouth’. He moved to the couch, sweat covered his torso, it glistened in the light as he sat down between the two young ladies either side of him, he lay back and drew on his cigarette again, red pulled his hand towards her, as she placed the cigarette to her lips and dragged on it, she exhaled slowly, the stream of smoke turning into rings dispersing towards the ornately coved ceiling. He drew on the cigarette again, smiling to himself. At twenty-seven; he had just experienced his first threesome, with two of the loveliest and most obliging girls any man could wish for. He still was incredibly drunk, but he knew he had the biggest smile on his face, despite the fact; his wife was a cheating whore.

  3..

  Connected.

  Duncan woke that morning adorned by the Brunette and Red, which covered either side of his chest. They were still laying somewhat uncomfortably on the brown Chesterfield couch, only woken by Rubin walking in clad only in his tight white Calvin Klein’s that clung to his strapping thighs like they had been painted on him.

  Rubin as normal was being his noisy self, as he stumbled around, a cigarette in his mouth and out into the kitchen. He returned in his normal noisy fashion and stopped before them watching the three.

  “Morning old boy,” he laughed, as he threw a glass of water over Duncan as he promptly jumped up with the shock of the cold water dripping from his face and chest.

  “Rubin, you fucking arsehole,” he said while wiping the excess water from his face with the palm of his hand. “What the fuck?” He looked at Rubin astonished at his friend’s childish behaviour. While Rubin stood there doubling over laughing at his practical joke.

  Duncan was clearly unimpressed at his rude awakening. He looked down to see he was still naked. That didn’t bother him too much, however when Rubin started pointing at his groin and laughing more as he clapped his hands with hysterics at the hilarity of the situation, much to Duncan’s annoyance .

  “What?” Duncan exclaimed, his hands in the air in bewilderment, at Rubin’s still hysterics. He couldn’t understand why Rubin was still laughing. Until Rubin pointed out the two very distinctive shades of red lipstick that were on the base of Duncan’s cock. “Oh,” replied a slightly embarrassed Duncan.

  “So you liked my wee take out then I see!” Smiled a very proud Rubin, who stood there with his hands on his hips, in a superman pose. “I handpicked them especially for you. I’m glad you liked,” and he looked over nodding his head with a smile to the Brunette and Red, who had started to get dressed picking their clothes off the floor.

  The two women were dressed in no time. Duncan was impressed. These girls had been quicker getting out of their clothes only hours earlier. He looked down, at his package, knowing Rubin’s eyes were fixated on the two women. He could clearly see the trails of red lipstick, somewhat ingrained into his skin. He shrugged it off, it was totally plausible, with the vigour these girls showed in their performance at making him even rise to the occasion. He was still, pretty smashed, his head hurt and was starting to bang loudly. His eyes stung in their eye sockets, with the bright morning light that shone in through the huge bay window of the Victorian terrace house that Rubin called home in Loftus Rd, Shepherds Bush. It was a typical bachelor pad, done in whites, beiges and soft neutral colours. Rubin was delighted with himself as he had got one of the tottie’s he had been seeing to do it for him. That was classic Rubin. From the moment they had met, he had been a ladies’ man. He completely understood, Rubin was a very charming character. Ever since he had known him, he had held the nickname of ‘Prince charming’.

  Rubin was built like a rugby player. His physique was that of a fitness model, except much sturdier. He had the charm to get himself out of any situation. Whether it was to get or dump a woman, or if he came across the odd boyfriend or husband, no matter what, Rubin would be guaranteed to talk himself out of any trouble. By nature, he was a born negotiator. He could sell sand to Arabs, snow to Eskimo’s. Rubin was every stereo type cliché in the book. He sat on the board of management for the ‘School of charm’. He also had a fierce loyalty; he was ‘the man’ to have in your corner. By all accounts they were very different. Duncan was cool, calm and collected. Rubin, on the other hand, had presence. What I mean by that was you knew Rubin was in a room as you could hear him. He was a typical Scot with loads of personality. His laugh was contagious, as was his infectious personality.

  Whilst at University, their friendship had blossomed very quickly, into that of a symbiotic relationship. Rubin had worked his way through Uni, having won his scholarships. Like Duncan, he was incredibly intelligent. He had excelled at foreign language like Duncan. Rubin specialized in Arabic, Russian and French. Duncan also specialized in Arabic, French and Japanese. Both men had also concentrated on Maths, computer science and various other sciences. They were both recruited to the R.A.F Officers training academy due to their high achievements. Both men passing with distinguished honours, both at Cambridge and Cranwell’s Officers Academy. Duncan prided himself on his linguistic skills, and many a night in Cambridge and then in Lincolnshire, were spent convincing women they were from various places in the world in a multitude of professions. ‘They’ as a ‘team’ were a very successful unit. Together they worked as a well-oiled machine.

  Rubin’s tastes were always more open to his. He had learned this within the first week of Rubin moving into his cramped bedsit. Rubin had thought nothing of bringing a girl home and giving her a night to remember, knowing that poor Duncan was a light sleeper. Not only did Rubin seem to have the body of a God, but also a cock from the Gods too. Rubin was the typical guy who would walk proudly naked anywhere and the exclamations by the young ladies cries of....‘Ohh MY GOD!’ Upon seeing the sheer size and girth of Rubin’s cock proved it. Duncan thought the size was quite inhuman; however Rubin wore it very proudly. And the threesome’s started after his first month.

  The young ladies were now ready to leave, and were now joined by Bernie and the busty lady from the night before, who had just come down the stairs from Rubin’s bedroom. Duncan stood there still naked, he noticed the two new women eyeing his nakedness. Rubin caught sight of the towel from Duncan’s shower the night before. He swiped it up off the couch and threw it towards Duncan who wrapped it around his waist.

  “Ladies,” Rubin said, “I’ve already called you a taxi, and it’s on my account.” He walked towards Bernie, taking her face in his hands and planted a kiss on her lips. “Bernie, it was lovely to see you as always, I’ll call you when I’m back.” He then walked toward the other ladies including the busty one. He extended his arms wide. “Ladies.” He took each of their hands and in turn kissed each one, as though he was a gentleman. “Thank you for your very entertaining company.”

  They giggled as he walked them to the door, and opened it as their heels clicked on his tiled floor, out to the now awaiting taxi. You had to give it to Rubin, he had great timing and he was so smooth. They smiled as they chatted to themselves as they clipped down his path. He closed the door behind him, and walked back into the sitting room. Duncan had already started back on the remnants of scotch that was left in the bottle from the previous night. He had walked in, to find him wincing from the gulp that he had just consumed.

  Rubin thought momentarily, before he spoke, Duncan watched him walk over to him and bend down and seized the bottle that had been placed within Duncan’s reach. Duncan had seen what he was up to, from the moment he dipped, and made a grab for it himself, but Rubin’s reflexes were much swifter than his and with Duncan’s protests, he walked away from him, still clutchi
ng the bottle close to his chest.

  ”My friend, I’m not letting you go down that route. She’s not worth it. Plus I never liked the bitch. I only tolerated her for you. But you seriously can’t be doing this.” He held the bottle up looking through its clear glass; the liquid swirled around wildly as he did so. “This is not a breakfast of champions. What you need is a fry up. Yes,” he clapped his hands gleefully rubbing them together having placed the bottle between his thighs, just above his knees. “Yes, bacon, eggs, sausages, fried slice, mushrooms…”

  Rubin, with every moaning protest Duncan made and occasional gag, teased more, knowing his friends delicate constitution due to his consuming the majority of the bottle now placed safely under his armpit. He clapped his hands again, causing the clap to echo throughout the room. Duncan reached for his head, clasping it in both hands either side of his temple. Still Rubin continued with his unmerciful tease to poor Duncan’s delicate constitution.

  “Yes baked beans, fried tomatoes,” he laughed watching Duncan almost turning green with every word. “Ohh and let’s not forget the freshly squeezed orange juice.”

  As Duncan could take no more and rushed out of the room, he could hear Rubin following after him as he rushed to the bathroom and started to vomit. Rubin, who had been laughing stood at the door, as he watched his friend empty the contents of his stomach into the bowl.

  “Do you want me to hold your hair or something Princess?” Added a smug looking Rubin, leaning against the door frame arms folded.

  Duncan could only master a cutting look, as he heaved one last time, and flushed the toilet, before splashing his face with the water he was cupping in his hands. He dried his face on the towel hanging on the heated rail, and looked at his friend. He looked down noticing his disposal of his clothes from the night before still scattered on the wet floor. He sighed heavily. He knew he had a few items in his kit bag; at least those would get him through a couple of days. But at some point, he knew he would have to go home and collect his belongings. Home he thought, and laughed to himself while he shook his head.