My, What a Guy

        Everyone in the tavern cheered lustily, waving their brimming
mugs in the air. Ale spilled and splashed, more work for Madame
Auberger.
        When Gaston and LaFou reached the window, the large
huntsman picked up his small sidekick and tossed him headfirst into an
open keg. Men hooted as the pudgy midget popped up sputtering.
        Gaston turned to the girls. Yvette and Suzette clutched each
other and giggled, but Bimbette threw back her shoulders and inhaled
so as to threaten her bodice.
        "Ooh, Gaston," she said. "If you are to be married soon,
should you not live while the living is good? That Belle, she is sure to
be a prude, no? Always with her nose in the book, tres boring, n'est ce
pas? Never would you find us reading. We prefer more womanly
things."
        He eyed her womanly things, which were bulging out of her
gown with each breath. "So do I."
        The men laughed as if he had reached the height of wit, and
Gaston preened proudly. LaFou regarded Bimbette with slackjawed
lust. Her sisters moved beside her, Yvette leaning strategically forward
to expose canyonesque cleavage and Suzette running the tip of her pink
tongue over lush lips.
        "Quelle tragique," Yvette sighed. "A married man, all drab and
by-the-fire."
        "I'm not married yet." Gaston scooped her up on one muscular
arm.
        She squealed and kicked her feet prettily. "Oh! I'll fall!" She
flung her arms around his neck so that her bosom was pressed against
the side of his head.
        Grinning, he seized her sisters as well. He threw Suzette over
his shoulder and coiled Bimbette in his other arm. "LaFou! Rent me a
room for the night!"
        Raucous cheers and whistles greeted this command. The girls
shrieked in mock protest but giggled as well, planting kisses on
whatever part of Gaston's huge frame happened to be closest. LaFou
scrambled to the counter and threw Monseir Auberger a handful of
coins.
        Gaston stomped up the stairs with his load of bouncy girlflesh.
His baton grande was already swelling to impressive proportions within
his tight leather pants. He kicked the door open and flung the girls on
the bed in a pile of disarrayed skirts and creamy limbs.
        "And now, mes demoiselles, prepare for the tumble of your
lives!" He tore open his shirt and slammed the door.
        Bimbette untangled herself from her sisters and crawled
sensually to the edge of the bed, flipping her blond hair out of her eyes.
"Is it true, what you said downstairs?"
        "Is every last inch of you covered with hair?" Yvette asked as
he removed his boots.
        "Are you ... proportional?" Suzette nibbled on her fingertip.
        "Regardez!" He whisked off his pants and his baton sprang
forth.
        "Oooh," the three sighed.
        Gaston hurled himself into their midst, reclining on the bed.
He grabbed Yvette by the hair and kissed her, plunging his tongue into
her hot mouth. With no finesse, he shoved Bimbette's head toward his
groin and began groping Suzette.
        Bimbette wrapped both hands around his enormous baton,
rubbing slowly up and down. He grunted against Yvette's mouth.
        Suzette unlaced her bodice and filled his hand with soft white
flesh. He handled her roughly, pinching the nipples, squeezing, leaving
red fingermarks, eliciting gasps of mixed pleasure and pain.
        Yvette fenced with his tongue and hiked her skirt to her waist.
She wore nothing beneath. Her mound was shaved bare.
        Bimbette sucked the tip of his baton into her mouth. She
bobbed her head up and down, still rubbing with one hand while she
undressed.
        He released Suzette and grabbed Yvette around the waist. He
ripped off her dress, lifted her easily through the air and lowered her
naked peche de plaisir toward his face. She spread the shaved lips with
her fingers, showing him the tender pink flesh within. He fastened his
mouth to her and wormed his tongue inside. She was already dripping
sweet love honey and clamped her thighs around his head.
        Suzette, neglected, moved to join Bimbette. Now two pairs of
hands and two eager mouths were working his baton. He concentrated
on Yvette, pursuing her climax as intently as he chased game through
the forest, unrelenting, demanding, rough. Her breasts jiggled wildly.
She began caressing them, mewling and moaning. He fondled her firm
derriere and stuck his tongue as far into her as he could manage.
        The other two were taking turns, one engulfing his entire
length while the other sucked and nibbled his boules. He wanted to see
them, so as soon as Yvette shuddered through her climax, he pushed her
aside and watched her sisters.
        Not only were they tasting him, he saw, but between strokes
they were kissing each other, wet, open-mouthed kisses. Bimbette's legs
were spread wide as she fingered herself.
        The sight of them kissing each other made him even hotter. He
began bumping his hips up and down. Yvette joined her sisters, and
now all three of them were exchanging kisses and taking turns with his
baton. Yvette pushed up Suzette's skirts and started caressing her peche.
        "You souillones!" he said. "You've done each other before!"
        "Mais oui," Bimbette said. "Since we were twelve years old.
Do you like it?"
        "Eat her peche, and let me watch," he ordered, gesturing to
Suzette.
        Without hesitation, Suzette lay back and opened her legs to her
sisters. Yvette went first, latching on with such skill that Suzette was
soon crying out. Bimbette knelt over her, sucking her breasts and still
fingering herself.
        It was too much for Gaston. He reared up on his knees behind
Bimbette and rammed his baton into her slick hot peche. Bimbette
thrust back to meet him, rapid, almost frantic, threatening to bring him
off too soon.
        He tried to think of boring things, merchant talk, stories that
weren't about him, dull reading ... but reading only made him think of
Belle, and what it would be like to be pounding into her peche from
behind while she moaned encouragement, and that would have finished
him right then if he hadn't happened to glance over and see LaFou
peering through the window.
        LaFou had his pants down and was busily stroking his petit
cochon. The fact that he had been able to find it under his drooping
belly was amazing in itself. The sight was sufficient to scare Gaston
away from his climax, indeed almost enough to make him limp as a
dead goose. He hastily looked away.
        Suzette was writhing under the expert ministrations of her
sister, and Bimbette was bucking like a rogue mare as her own climax
stormed through her. Gaston pulled out, still stiff and huge. He decided
to really make LaFou green with envy, so he pulled Yvette off her sister
and fell upon Suzette. She was on the edge of climax, and as he slid his
baton deep into her, she went over with a wild cry.
        He kept at her, pumping, stuffing his mouth with her breast.
Yvette wiggled between his legs and began licking his boules while
Bimbette in turn nestled between Yvette's legs to lap at her peche.
        Suzette climaxed again, with such force that she nearly
swooned. Gaston pulled his baton out of her. She slid to the floor and
lay spreadeagled, trying to catch her breath.
        Gaston looked down at his baton, hard and large and pulsing
with readiness. He turned to the other two. "Well, mes petites, who will
finish me?"
        "I will!" Bimbette said, grabbing for him.
        "He has already done you," Yvette protested, pushing her
away.
        "Suzette has come twice. I've only once," Bimbette argued.
Suzette, already dozing, made no comment.
        "I've only once too!" Yvette said. "And I haven't had him
inside me!"
        "Girls, girls," Gaston chuckled. "We can settle this
peacefully." He lay back, his baton pointing at the roof. Out of the
corner of his eye, he saw LaFou staring at it and comparing it to his
own. "Yvette, here is what you want."
        With a gleeful cry, she straddled him. "Oh, oh, oh!" Her
hairless peche slid slowly down over his baton. She began rocking, then
bouncing, pinching her nipples and flinging her head from side to side.
        Bimbette was watching her, pouting. "Now you," he said,
lifting her over his head and lowering her so that her peche was open to
his probing tongue. He held her facing the other way, so that he was
looking up at her bottom and arched back.
        All arguments forgotten, Bimbette and Yvette leaned toward
each other and kissed, making a heaving, moaning triangle with Gaston
at the bottom. He thrust up hard, burying himself in Yvette, feeling her
inner muscles begin to quiver as her climax overtook her. Bimbette
gushed her honey onto his face. Gaston let himself go, spurting into
Yvette.
        When the turbulent shock of their climaxes passed, the girls
clambered off of him and curled beside him, each with a head pillowed
on his shoulder. All of them were exhausted. Gaston dozed, surrounded
by warm girlflesh and the scent of sex. Yvette and Bimbette were soon
asleep, breathing in unison.
        Gaston's exhaustion did not dim his hunter's instincts, so he
was aware when the door to the room creaked open slightly. He opened
one eye, feigning sleep, and saw LaFou poke his head around the
corner.
        He kept pretending to be asleep, wondering what the little toad
was up to. LaFou crept into the room, his face all eyes.
        Suzette was still sprawled on the floor. Her thighs were spread,
affording LaFou a good look at something he'd never had occasion to
see close up. He gulped, wiped sweaty palms on his shirt, and prodded
a nervous finger at her peche.
        She stirred and sighed dreamily. Gaston watched from under
lowered lids, wondering if LaFou had the boules to stick it in her while
she slept.
        LaFou glanced around, then swung the door closed. He
lowered his pants and found his petit cochon again. Gaston struggled
not to laugh. After him, LaFou would be lucky if he could touch the
sides.
        LaFou knelt clumsily, his large pale hairy rear waving in the
air. He sniffed Suzette's peche, then licked hesitantly. She sighed again
and shifted her legs, opening them wider. Encouraged, LaFou began
lapping enthusiastically. Suzette moaned but showed no sign of waking.
        Strangely, the sight was arousing Gaston all over again. He
supposed it was just as well, because if LaFou managed to bring Suzette
off, the other two would demand another one each.
        LaFou raised his head and looked hastily around. Gaston
barely closed his eyes in time and was thankful that Bimbette had rolled
onto her side. Her hip would keep his growing baton from LaFou's
vision.
        Suzette murmured and slid her fingers into her peche. LaFou
grinned. He took her wrist and gently moved her hand, replacing her
fingers with his petit cochon. An expression of disbelieving rapture
crossed his homely face. He began thrusting against Suzette's limp body
with an utter lack of skill, but sufficient vigor to make her thrash and
cry out softly.
        Gaston quietly wedged a hand between Bimbette's thighs and
started rubbing her peche. She was still wet and responded by pressing
her bottom against him.
        LaFou suddenly froze, eyes crossed and partly rolled back. He
uttered that weird laugh of his. A ribbon of saliva unfurled from his lip
and puddled on Suzette's breast. Panting, he withdrew. His cochon had
dwindled and dangled between his pudgy thighs like a dead baby eel.
He hastily pulled up his trousers and tiptoed out of the room, not even
sparing a glance at the others.
        The moment the door closed, Gaston rolled onto his side.
Bimbette woke to the sensation of his huge baton sliding in and out of
her peche, bringing them both swiftly to another climax.
        "That's not fair," Yvette said sleepily. "Now she's had three ..."

                *               *               *

The End.