Voyure’s View part 3
The Second man and the woman were intensely locked in their world of pleasure. I could see him looking down at her and talking, but I was unable to read the words forming on his lips. Her eyes were staring directly into his and they seemed to be somehow communicating, but her mouth never lost its focus or tempo.
The First man stepped around so he was standing shoulder to shoulder with the Second. The First reached down and again joined in on the pulling of her hair and manipulation of her head. I became quite alarmed when I realized they were both forcefully holding her tightly against his belly, while having the entire length and girth of his cock plunged down her throat. It was becoming obvious that she was in desperate need of air, and had begun to thrash and pound. With his cock buried to the hilt, I knew she couldn’t breathe. Am I going to have to do something? Yell? Scream for them to stop? Just as I was about to reveal myself, they let her go, and I watched as her chest heaved and the saliva dripped from her lips. And then, just as quickly as they had let her go, I was astounded to see she had again leaned in and returned to her previous task, sucking and licking his pulsing cock.
Several moments later, the Second man grabbed her hair and pulled her head off of his cock. He gripped it in his free hand and began working himself in a rapid stroke. She tilted her head back, stuck out her tongue and received the gift of his release. It splattered across her face, dripped from her lips and tongue, and ran in a slow moving stream down her neck. He instructed her to do something, and I watched as she immediately returned his cock to her mouth and proceeded to lick it clean. The First man leaned over her and gently massaged all the cum into her face, neck and still-exposed breasts, as the Second took a step backwards and put himself away.
Having no more strength, she collapsed to her knees and fell forward onto her forearms in the warm sand. Through my binos I could see the large wet stain between her legs, seeping through her shorts. It was then that I noticed the soaking wet spot now present in my own panties. She and I seemed to be breathing in a choreographed and synchronized pattern, both spent from the events that had just unfolded.
The two men stepped up to either side of her and each gently took an arm and helped raise her to her feet. They continued to hold her for a few more seconds as she regained the strength of her legs. Once she was standing freely on her own, each man gave her one last passionate but loving kiss. She then staggered away and waded up to her ankles in the surf’s edge. The two men turned, gathered the boxes of wood, and disappeared up the faint trail to where they must have been parked.
She stood silently and peacefully watching the waves and water of the ocean. I stood silently and breathlessly watching her. Who is she? Why did she allow that to happen? The pleasure that radiated from her and the serenity that she now showed led me to believe that she somehow felt sated by the beautiful performance she had just presented. I was in awe of her. The two men reappeared on the beach. The three exchanged a few words. Both men gave an exaggerated but gentlemanly wave of their hands allowing her to go first, and they all walked to the trail and silently disappeared from view.
I have no idea how long I remained standing there, staring at that sandy beach and the crashing ocean. My fuzzy mind slowly returned to reality and I walked to my car. I climbed in, placed my binos on the seat next to me, took a deep cleansing breath and pulled out onto the highway once more. As I drove, my thoughts were no longer of the great majestic whales that I had so longed to see. They were consumed with the unforgettable pictures of what I had witnessed that day, on Ménage à trois Beach.