Archive-name: 3plus/on-roof.txt

Archive-author: Solo Polyphony

Archive-title: Up On the Roof





Second in the "Deb's Tails" series.  Again, a repost, thanks to a number

of requests.



     My wife, Deborah, often tells me "bedtime stories" of her sexual

adventures.  Some of them I know are true, either because I was there, or

because she has corroborative evidence.  Some of them, I'm sure, are fictional. 

Others, I'm just not sure about.  I'll vouch for the truth of this story.  After

all, I'd never contradict a lady in public.  

     One of the nice things about living in an apartment in a big city is that

it affords you opportunities that a private house or a small town just can't

offer.  Our apartment building, for example, has a glass-walled restaurant

taking up about half the roof.  We don't go there often; we can't afford a whole

lot of visits to four-star restaurants.  The rest of the roof has been covered

with patio tiles, and is open to the residents for sunbathing, stargazing, or

whatever.  We've even had one person commit suicide by jumping off -- although I

don't think the management approved of that.  Needless to say, the view from up

there is spectacular.  You've got the lights of the city spread out all around

you, and from the roof you can people-watch into the restaurant.  Of course,

that works both ways.

     Anyway, this is the story as Deb tells it (albeit, with my title).



                                 UP ON THE ROOF



     Remember what happened a few months ago, when we went up to the roof to

look at the view?  It was around one in the morning.  The restaurant had just

closed, so some of the staff was still in there cleaning up, putting the chairs

out of the way, and all of that kind of thing.  We went over to the corner

furthest from the restaurant, kind of behind the potted trees, and leaned on the

wall at the edge.

     We chatted for a bit and watched the lights, and then I felt you edge up

behind me and put your arms around me.  Somehow I wasn't surprised.  I had

rather suspected you had something more in mind than looking at the view when

you suggested coming up.  I had even dressed appropriately: a tank-top, and no

bra.  I leaned back against you and smiled when your hands slid around my waist

and began to caress my stomach.

     I reached behind myself and behind you to stroke your butt as you began to

kiss the side of my neck.  The kiss -- and your butt -- felt really good, and I

leaned back against you, feeling the bulge in your pants beginning to poke

against my ass.  You shifted your attention upwards a bit, nibbling my ear and

stroking my breasts.  I responded by squirming my butt against your crotch,

grinning as I felt your cock growing harder and harder.  I shivered when you

pulled my shirt free of my pants and slipped your hands underneath.

     "Cold?" you asked.

     "A little," I replied.  "It's the breeze more than anything else."

     You turned me around to face you, and then turned us both around so your

back was towards the breeze and mine towards the restaurant.  "There you go,

ma'am.  Your own, private wind-screen."  It was such a thoughtful gesture I

couldn't possibly complain when you pulled my shirt off, baring my breasts.  Not

that I would have complained, especially after you bent down and began licking

my nipples.

     It felt very nice, but with you bent over like that, the breeze was

starting to bother me again.  I pulled you upright, and pressed my tits against

you, warming them on your chest.  Your cock was like a rock, and I knew it must

be demanding release rather urgently.  "Would you like me to do something about

this?" I asked, stroking it gently through your pants.

     "Silly question..."

     "Yeah, it was, wasn't it?"  I undid your belt, opened the button of your

jeans, unzipped your fly, and found that you had dressed for the occasion too. 

Without underpants to confine it, your cock stuck straight out in front of you. 

I glanced around, and decided that if anyone was still in the restaurant, the

trees would prevent them from seeing anything.  To be sure though, I decided to

stay between you and the windows.  I lowered your pants to your knees, and then

began to run my index finger back and forth along the underside of your prick. 

You shivered, and it was my turn to look mock-concerned.  "Aw, what's the

matter?  Breeze blowing up your ass?"

     "No, the wall's blocking the breeze.  It's the madwoman trying to scratch

my cock under the chin that's making me do that.  Doesn't she know that you're

supposed to do that to pussies?"

     "There's only one pussy around here, and I'm not into scratching my own at

the moment."

     You rolled your eyes, although I'm not sure whether in pain at the level of

humor we had just displayed, or in pleasure as I wrapped my hand around your

cock and began to stroke the length of it.  After a minute or two, I began to

stroke your balls with my other hand, and you began to moan in pleasure.  When

your moans began to peak, and your balls tightened up into your crotch, I

released you.  "Hang on a second.  I know what you'd really like."

     I turned you around, pushing you to a sitting position on the edge of the

planter I had been leaning against.  I figured that way your body would help

block what I was about to do from anyone in the restaurant.

     I dropped to my knees in front of you, lifting your cock to point straight

up.  I leaned against you, pressing your cock between my cheek and your stomach. 

"Gotta get it nice and warm.  Don't want you to get cold-cocked."  The groan

that followed that line was definitely one of pain.

     Still holding your prick upright, I kissed the tip, and then ran my tongue

across it along the groove under the head.  I took the tip in my mouth and began

circling my tongue around it.  I slid my head down a bit further, continuing the

circling motion as I began to jerk you off again.

     I didn't want you cumming to soon, so when you began to thrust into my

mouth, I pulled back.  I gave you a few seconds to cool down, and then ran my

tongue down the underside of your shaft, from the tip to the base.  I kissed

your balls, and then began to lick them gently.  I started with tiny little

strokes from back to front, and then lengthened them gradually.  When the

strokes became so long that I was licking all the way around the sack and onto

the base of your cock, I ran my tongue back up to the tip, and began the cycle

over again, kissing the tip before I returned it to my mouth.

     Three times I repeated the cycle, from cock to balls and back again, before

events came to a head.  I had your cock deep in my mouth, whipping my tongue

against the underside, one hand wrapped around the shaft, and the other rubbing

your balls.  I felt your balls contract, but I was too wrapped up in what I was

doing to register what that meant.  Before I could brace myself, you gave one

last moan of pleasure, and blasted your cum into my mouth.  The first blast

struck me in the back of the throat, and I began to choke as a little went down

my windpipe.  I pulled back, getting my breathing under control, and received

the rest of your load all over my face and tits.

     "Sorry," you said.  "I should have given you a little warning."

     "Don't worry about it.  I'm OK.  I'm washable."  I looked down at the cum

dripping from my left nipple.  "Have you got a kleenex or something so I can

clean up a bit?  Somehow I don't think I should go downstairs like this."

     You started to shake your head, and I jumped a foot in the air (and that's

not easy when you start from your knees) as a voice from the shadows said "How

about a napkin?  You look like you could use one."

     I don't know about you, but I hadn't heard anyone approaching, so it took

me a minute to get my heart to slow to a reasonable speed.  While I was still

trying, the speaker stepped out of the shadows and handed me the napkin.  He had

short, dark hair, and was wearing a tux; obviously an authority of some sort

from the restaurant, if not the maitre d'.  He looked to be in his late

thirties; old enough to be shocked at finding a couple fucking outside his

restaurant, but it was pretty clear that he was anything but shocked.

     "How long have you been watching?" I asked, as I began mopping at my chest. 

"And is anyone else out there?"

     "Well, I don't know how long you've been up here, but I think I caught most

of the show.  If anyone else saw anything, it had to be a building resident. 

I'd just sent the last of the cleaning staff down the elevator, and was about to

lock the doors when I spotted you.  When I saw what you were up to, I grabbed

the napkin and came over to get a better view.  It did look like you were having

fun."

     "I certainly was," you assured him.  "I don't know how many thrills she got

out of it, though.  She generally prefers fucking to sucking."

     I had been counting on you to provide some thrills for me, but it seemed

that I had done too good a job on you.  Your cock was limp, and I could tell it

would take you more than a minute or two to recover enough to try for seconds.

     "It was fun," I assured the stranger, "but I still haven't gotten off.  You

deserve a reward for bringing me a napkin.  Would you like to see if it's as

much fun as it looks like?"  As I spoke, I stripped off my pants and panties,

and piled my clothes on the tile for padding.

     The stranger looked rather startled.  "But what about him?" he said,

nodding in your direction.

     "He's in no shape to do much.  I want a cock in me, and he's not nearly

ready to give me one."

     He still seemed hesitant.  He obviously liked what he saw -- the bulge in

his pants was obvious -- but he pulled his eyes away from me long enough to look

at you.

     "Go ahead," you told him.  "You'd be crazy to pass up an offer like that,

especially from her.  You'll have fun, and so will she.  Seems like a good deal

for everyone."

     "But what about you?"

     "Don't worry about me.  I'm married to her.  I've made love with her more

than a few times, and will again.  You won't be depriving me any.  Enjoy."

     His eyes returned to me.  "OK," he said after a moment.  "If you're both

sure, I'm not going to be stupid enough to pass up the chance."  He stripped

quickly, and then held his clothes out to me.  "You want these?  A little extra

padding never hurts."

     I thanked him, and added them to my clothes.  I settled down on the pile of

clothes, and opened my legs to him.  "I'm ready any time you are," I told him. 

I wasn't kidding either.  Between the excitement of sucking you, the thrill of

trying a new guy, and the added charge of doing it with you watching, I was wet

enough that I probably could have taken John Holmes without extra lubrication --

as long as he took his time.  I wasn't even going to have that much trouble with

our stranger.  His cock wasn't any longer than the average, although it was a

bit thicker.

     He knelt between my legs, and started to slide into me.  I wrapped my legs

around his back, and pulled him all the way in.  "Mmmmmm.  That's wonderful!" he

sighed.  It obviously took all his self-control to look over at you.  "You sure

you don't mind?"

     "Even if I did, I doubt she'd let you loose now.  Have fun.  I can always

take sloppy seconds."

     He turned his attention back to me, kissing my throat, and then began a

long, slow stroke that I matched eagerly.  "Mmmmm," I sighed.

     "Ohhhhh," he responded.  "You're so nice and tight," he whispered in my

ear.  "You feel wonderful."

     "It feels great to have you in me.  It's been a while since I've had

anybody this thick."  He began speeding up his strokes, and I sped up to match.

     I glanced up at you, and saw that the show had charged you back up; your

cock was rock hard again, and you were stroking it.  The stranger was thrusting

hard and fast, and he was obviously about to cum.  I blew you a kiss, and then

returned all my attention to him, tightening my cunt around him.

     "Oh, GOD!" he cried as he came.

     I wasn't nearly that coherent.  I think I cried out something profound like

"Ohh!  Ahh!  Uh, uh, uh, oooooh!" as I came, feeling his cock jerking inside me.

     He slumped forward across me, and my legs fell limp to his sides.  We lay

together for a few minutes as you knelt down next to me and began stroking my

hair.  The stranger looked up and kissed me.  "Thank you.  That was as fun as it

looked."  Looking at you he added "Thank you, too.  I really appreciate it."

     "Don't mention it," we both said simultaneously.  I added, "I had at least

as much fun as you did."

     "I find that hard to believe," he said with a smile, "but I won't argue

with you."  He looked over at you.  "You want me to get out of your way?"

     "Not until you're ready to get up, but yes, I would like a turn."

     "OK," he said, withdrawing from me, and getting to his feet.  "Would you

stand up for a second, sweetie?" he asked me as he picked up the napkin and

wiped his cock off.  I stood, and he scooped up the clothes that had been under

my head and shoulders, adding them to the pile under my butt.  He sat down

behind me leaning against the planter, and gestured for me to sit down, and lean

back against him.

     We shifted position a couple of times, and finally settled down in a fairly

comfortable position.  He was sitting cross-legged with my head in his lap, his

cock warm against my cheek.  He reached down and began to caress my breasts as

you entered me, burying yourself in me with one swift stroke.

     I can't usually cum twice that quickly, but the excitement of having the

both of you was rapidly turning me on again.  I turned my head to the side, and

kissed the stranger's cock, tasting the remnants of his cum and my juices on it. 

He turned my head to face up again, and kissed me deeply.  I felt a surge of

arousal, and began fucking up at you as hard as you were pounding into me.

     You moaned your pleasure as you fired your second cum of the evening into

me, the stranger pinched my nipples, and the extra stimulation pushed me over

the edge.  I screamed my pleasure, fortunately muffled by his lips.  As much fun

as I was having, I didn't really want the whole neighborhood to know what was

going on.  After all they might not let us back up on the roof again!







     Deb and I hope you've enjoyed reading this story as much as we enjoyed

writing it -- not to mention doing the research!  If you have questions, kudos,

or complaints, I can be reached as Solo Polyphony:



          1) on NixPix Windy City (708-564-1754), or

          2) via Internet at solo-p@holonet.net

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