From nowhere, it seemed, Jordan materialised offering towels and tissues. The two women and the minister went in search of champagne and a few moments to recuperate, but I was reluctant to join them. Looking round, I saw that Casey had parted from the actor. Her dress and knickers had disappeared, presumably into Jordan’s care. Now she was engaged with a supine black footballer, squatting over his face. She beckoned to me to join not them but a newcomer, a brunette I guessed to be in her forties, slender with high, pointed tits and gorgeous legs (I learned later this was the Lady J who had arrived with her husband after us).

Lady J was sitting in an armchair but whispered in my ear that she wanted to “get into my favourite position before you can have me.” With that she turned in the armchair and head first slid down until her shoulders were on the floor, taking her weight. Her torso pointed towards the ceiling. She opened her legs and motioned to me to move in. The manoeuvre wasn’t simple but it was worth the effort. I managed to position myself above her so that my cock drove straight down into her cunt. When I went to work, precariously holding my balance while ensuring that Lady J had the full length of my distended cock, my balls slapping against her arse with each down stroke, I saw that Casey was watching. Her cunt was still being licked by the footballer, but something told me she was registering a possibility for our own fucking at a later date.

So the evening went on, partners changed, orgasms sought and achieved. To my astonishment I had pulled momentarily out of the second television woman when Lady T leaned in and, with a few swift strokes, drew the spunk from my cock. The viscous liquid sprayed over the presenter’s stomach and tits. Lady T motioned Jordan forward with a towel. Then she turned to