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Cathy caught him looking at his watch. Music played, but no on was dancing. Cathy asked him. They danced in the centre of the room, she felt his body through his shirt, as he held her lightly. She pressed her breasts against him, and felt his immediate arousal. The track had almost ended, when she whispered in his ear. She felt his body stiffen to her suggestion, then relax. He laughed, thinking she was joking. “Linda, can I borrow your husband for a while?” Cathy called across the room.“Be my guest Cath, but treat him gently!” Linda replied.Cathy took him by the hand, and led him to the sofa. Then pulled him down onto it. She kissed him, but he didn’t respond. She tried again, with slightly more success. “Linda, I don’t think he wants to, better take him home. I mean if he doesn’t want to fuck me, and my sister, you’d better have him!”He looked like a startled rabbit, caught in the cars headlamps. Linda walked over to the sofa., she bent down, and softly said “You always wanted a. “That’s one word to call an orgy!”Kora nodded her head. Then she ducked her head down and licked up at the cum adorning my chest. Her tongue felt so hot and lithe as she gathered up my pearly jizz. I shuddered as she brushed my nipple, a naughty gleam twinkling in her sapphire depths.“Yum!” Nathalie said and leaned down, licking with her.I groaned, letting my two women lick up my cum. I leaned back, my dick throbbing harder. My sister grasped my shaft as I stretched out on my back. She stroked me, pleasure rippling down my shaft, her touch lithe and delicious. Nathalie’s tongue reached my other nipple, sucking on it.Tingles zapped down my cock. I groaned, my dick twitching in my sister’s hand. It felt so weird having both of my small nipples sucked and nibbled on. It didn’t have the intensity of having my cock sucked, but it felt nice.“Master’s liking that,” Zanyia said, kneeling over me, her ears twitching. Tawny hair spilled about her shoulders. She squeezed both of her small tits..
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In a matter of days the first B-17 had flown in, to be quickly followed by others. With them came hundreds of Yanks, both to service and fly the planes. June had left the village at the beginning of the war, going to work in the operations room in the depths of a Whitehall cellar. She was a small cog in a large machine, but her work was important and rewarding. She was born in Little Dunsworth and might have been expected to hate the hustle and bustle of London, especially under wartime conditions. However, she had loved it from the moment she arrived. It seemed so full of life and vitality, despite the all-pervading air of danger, or, perhaps, because of it. What little leave June had was spent with newly-acquired friends and she visited home infrequently and briefly. Her parents might have been disappointed that they saw so little of their daughter, but they always tried to hide it. She was grown up, she had her own life to lead. Then there was Michael. They’d known each other all.

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