I knew Cindy's pussy would be sore in the morning. A lot of the cum that had flowed out of her had soaked into the seat and had started to dry. As I scrubbed the wet spot, I thought over the evening. The sight of her being gang-banged had made me super horny. Witness the speed with which I had starched my pants. I was still hot to trot. The smell of the cum-stained seat gave me a hardon. The friction between my pants and my glans had me panting as I worked. In a couple minutes, I soaked the front of my pants again. I couldn't get the vision of her being repeatedly fucked out of my mind. No sooner had my pecker become flaccid than my erection began to return.
The money had been an unexpected bonus. It had been handed to us. We hadn't asked for it. We would have to discuss what to do with it in the morning. We could upgrade our room in the next city we planned to visit, or we could add it to our house buying fund. With that extra money, we could buy a house six months sooner. The best part was we wouldn't have to share it with the IRS.
After half an hour I went back to our room. Cindy stirred as I poured the dirty water into the sink. "Where were you?" she asked sleepily.
"I was cleaning the back seat," I said. "How do you feel?"
"I feel like fucking your brains out. I'm still hotter than hell. What about you?" She noticed the wet crotch in my pants. "You've cum again, and not in me." She pouted playfully. "I'm insulted."
"I can't get the last couple hours out of my mind."
"How was your fantasy? Was it what you expected?"
"I wasn't expecting a mob, just one guy fucking you while I watched."
"But you were still turned on, weren't you?"
"Absolutely. I'm about to blow my wad again."
"Then get out of those clothes and get over here."
Cindy jumped out of bed naked and grabbed the waistband of my pants and dragged me to the bed. She shoved me on my back and unzipped my fly. My turgid member protruded though the opening. Without bothering with the slightest preliminary, she straddled my hips and guided my cock into her already wet pussy. She slowly settled down onto my lap savoring the sensation of my dick entering her. "I've been thinking about it too," she said. "You were supposed to pick me up, but I screwed up that plan."
"Maybe we can try again tomorrow night. It might work better if I go in first.
"I agree. That first guy's hand got me so hot I couldn't remember why we were there. When he touched my pussy, I had to be fucked right then. If you hadn't been there, I would have jumped his boner right there at the bar." I wiggled my butt a bit. "That feels great. Don't go too fast. I want this to last." She placed her hands on my chest and slowly rocked back and forth on my dick. "Mmm. That's how fucking should feel."
"Didn't you cum at all?"
"A couple times. Most of them weren't in me long enough to get me anywhere near the edge, let alone all the way."
"I guess we shouldn't do that again."
"It's weird, but the times I came, I was thinking about the money we were getting." She continued her rocking motion. "What should we do with it?"
"I don't know. You handle our money."
"You're the accountant. I'm just a cocktail waitress."
"With a business degree."
She playfully slapped my cheek. "You sound like my father. He only thinks about the job title."
"He knows how much you make."
"I've told him, but he doesn't believe it." She leaned over and pressed her breasts to my chest. I propped my knees up a bit and started thrusting in and out of her cunt. "I think you're trying to change the subject. Maybe we should do it again tomorrow night. I could quit working sooner if we had the extra cash." I increased my tempo as the memory of her gangbang appeared in my mind. "It feels like you like that idea." All those cocks in her earlier reappeared in my mind. "Do you think we could make ten thousand dollars on this trip?" She was tormenting me. We still had a week of our vacation left. A hundred men fucking her was possible. Eleven each day would just about do it. My cock was pumping faster and faster. My breathing was very deep and strong as my toes curled tightly. The money was unimportant. The fucking was what counted. As long as I could watch, she could have all the men she wanted. My nuts rose up, and I began firing my seed into her scalding hot hole. Her vaginal muscles held me prisoner, and she howled with excitement as waves of pure pleasure surged through her.
The drive to the next city only took two hours. Cindy wore a short, gauze sun dress and her shoes. She kept her hemline up to her waist leaving her freshly shaved pussy in view for me and anyone else who could see into the car. The upper portion of the dress was pulled down off her shoulders in the style of a peasant blouse to the point that her nipples were barely covered. When truckers pulled up beside us and stared at her, she lowered her top to expose her breasts. I wore a t-shirt and a pair of cutoffs. No underwear. The head of my stiff cock protruded out the left leg hole of my pants. Occasional light touches of her hand kept me on the verge of cumming. My leg was sticky with pre-cum when we got to the town. Because I wouldn't be able to get out of the car without my tent pole showing, I pulled into an empty alley and had her suck me off.
We had lunch and went sight-seeing. Both of us had sex on our minds. Everything we saw became a phallic or vaginal symbol. Doorways became pussies; the light poles were cocks. The banana splits we had for dessert were cocks in pussies.
We drove around to find the local watering holes and figure out the clientele each might have because we wanted someplace that attracted a lot of horny men. We decided on a sports bar similar to where she worked with a large parking lot in back.
I went in first. Cindy followed me about five minutes later. That lessened the chance of someone else hitting on her before I did. As I got out of the car, I asked her, "Are you up to this? You aren't too sore or anything?"
"I'm not a bit sore," she said. "Get going. I'm starting to get wet just thinking about this."
There was a woman sitting alone at the bar. I sat on the empty stool beside her and ordered a screwdriver. She appeared to be about forty. She had shoulder length dark brown hair and emerald eyes. Her firm boobs pressed against her tight blouse emphasizing she wasn't wearing a bra. The buttons were open down to the level of her nipples. She looked at me and smiled. I feigned a double-take. "Is something wrong?" she asked.
"No," I replied. "You remind me of someone I used to be in love with."
