Swedish women's naked gymnastics team
So I made the spare bedroom available on Airbnb, thinking that I might make a few quid while the missus was away. First booking: the Swedish women's naked gymnastics team.

I didn't know that until they arrived at the front door, all wrapped in skintight Lycra and carrying holdalls. Every one of them was a stunner – lithe, toned, lissom, but also busty and with buttocks plumped from years of doing the splits and straddling horses etc. I'm afraid I got a boner with the force and immediacy of an airbag deploying (and also with a slight puff of powder – I'd recently put some lavender-scented talc on my balls).

I was just making a real fire in the hearth when they arrived downstairs naked. Would I mind applying a fine sheen of baby oil to their naked and perfectly-formed bodies, they enquired. It was part of their training regime or some shit. Speechless with and almost blind with lust, I watched them roll out their yoga mats and recline for their oiling. Never had I seen so many perfect breasts. I'd not experienced so much shaved clam since my visit to a Heston restaurant in London. Some of them lay face down, legs slightly parted and their magnificent rumps raised in provocation.

By now, my erection was like a ski pole in my pocket. I set to work on the first girl, rubbing the slick oil into her silky-soft-but-muscular buttocks, each querulous stroke of my hands revealing a glimpse of perfect pink labii or winking anal knot. Nipples stood erect. Thighs parted.

I felt a hand gripping my urgent tool through my tartan jim-jams and Helga, their leader, untied the drawstring with expert fingers. "What have we here?" she said, in what was essentially a rhetorical question. Before I could answer, her head descended on it like a sword swallower and the questing helmet disappeared into the roiling cavern of her energetic tongue. I felt a hurricane building in my vesicles.

"What about the rest of us?" complained the others, now glistening like a sea of tits and ass. Their nutritionist, Eva, took a syringe from her handbag and jabbed it into into my rear. "Don't worry," she said, "it's just a little concoction I've developed: caffeine, glucose, essential vitamins and Viagra".

In my innocence, I didn't even ask why such a shot might be required by a travelling gymnastics team. To be honest, I was distracted – they were taking it in turns to fellate the tip of my quivering majesty. Two or three of them were lapping at it, with another couple gnawing gently on my nuts (now talc-free).

As if on cue, they then arranged themselves into some kind of human pyramid which was a bewildering array of shining torsos and damp orifices. They taunted me to fill as many holes as I could and I gamely leapt upon the pyramid with Pythagorean enthusiasm, sinking balls-deep into whatever enclasping hotness my rubious shlong encountered. Throats, rectii and uteruses all welcomed my frenzied thrusts. Hands gripped it. My own knuckles, meanwhile, were shining with the baptismal ardour of half a dozen g-spots.

By this time, my nut-sack was so full of impending seed that it looked like a lightly-furred cue ball. I could see my own reflection in it. If I didn't release soon, Id certainly go mad or haemorrhage.

"Choose one of us!" pleaded Mara, "And release that geyser of hot jizz!" They were my guests and it would have been rude not to. I was attempting to make a decision when they leapt free free of their pyramidal form and wrestled me on to my back. Before I knew what was going on, they had set up a bizarre and frankly incredible relay in which they would each do the splits directly onto my granite pillar (held at precisely the right angle by Mara). Thus it was that, every second or so, a different cervix would bang against my ardent crown until I felt the maelstrom coming.

At the point of no return, Mara – who had denied herself the relay-splits waved off the other girls and applied her full lips busily to the drenched rod. As the fountain arced forth across the taut bow of her lurid tongue, she swallowed the shaft entirely and I pulsed deep in her oesophagus with a taurine roar. Her lips gripped the base of my cock and she gently squeezed the draining plums

Swedes lay all about the room in their shameless nudity, their hair and faces wet with passion, their thighs besmeared with amorous unguent, their exercised genitals perspiring gently.

Naturally, it was exactly at that moment, as Mara was withdrawing Excalibur from her throat with a viscous vacuum of resistance, my wife walked into the room with a "Doh, what a scatterbrain! I forgot me keys . . ."

Fortunately, I managed to persuade her that I'd been helping Mara dislodge a bit of gristle from her throat and the others had shed their clothes as a protest against global warming. It was all fine. That night, I made a reservation for the Czech women's bisexual naked synchronised swimming team
(EarlOfHernia, Thu 3 Dec 2015, 11:44, 14 replies)

discrepancy
If your wife had forgotten her keys, how did she get back into the house?

Little details like that make your story less than credible.
(EarlOfHernia, Thu 3 Dec 2015, 12:36, closed)

( $$ ✅, Thu 3 Dec 2015, 12:43, closed)

cor it's been ages since I've been able to have a good old wank over a qotw entry

( tangledupinblue hairy badge with moving eyes, Thu 3 Dec 2015, 13:13, closed)

gay

( 2 Can Chunder Word to your mums, I came to prod bums, Thu 3 Dec 2015, 13:40, closed)

Frank's back!

(Reverend Fister "a disciplined fuckwit", Thu 3 Dec 2015, 14:31, closed)

Women love it when you jab them in the uterus.
I also want to point out how little the testicles contribute to the ejaculate, but there's no point, is there?
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Thu 3 Dec 2015, 15:15, closed)

Right . . .
Because everything about this post screams realism.
(EarlOfHernia, Thu 3 Dec 2015, 15:39, closed)

Are you saying that you made it all up?
Is none of it true?
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Thu 3 Dec 2015, 15:57, closed)

I hope they stayed and cleaned up the mess.

(Tugnut I got them all..., Fri 4 Dec 2015, 9:59, closed)

It's all a bit Timothy Lea
"Pythagorean enthusiasm" - arf!
( ferret -> twitter.com/syfyautocorrect <-, Fri 4 Dec 2015, 12:46, closed)

It's good, but it's not Stustut.

( The Disappointed Caravanner of the year, Fri 4 Dec 2015, 18:21, closed)

Frankspencer
And I'm claiming more than five fucking pounds.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Tue 8 Dec 2015, 16:46, closed)

Well done...
Jolly well done...
( DukeEuphoria Comes highly reccomended, Wed 9 Dec 2015, 11:20, closed)