Equally bizarre as part 1- All warnings from Part 1 remain...
*This is very much a continuation of a strange story. With fat, drunk, chain-smoking women. Very much is messing about in the darkside of the smoking fetish. *
Life as a foursome was fun. For a while. For those interested I did check in after the birth of what we all assumed are my children. I "loved" the pictures on Facebook. Think that was as dutiful as I could be. The moms knew where I was if they wanted anything. Not that I could provide anything sensible. I was far too lazy. It would involve effort.
As for my life, I cannot complain. I had what could be said as "on tap" sex with three different women. It was exciting. As such I really did not need to worry about two more! Yes, I should never have touched them in the first place.
As the great philosopher Forrest Gump almost said in a paraphrase 'It was like living with a box of chocolates. You never knew which one would cum next.' It was true. At any point of day either of us would soon be playing with each other and yes, coming all over the place. Or coughing, which was far more common. We would all be coughing. Morning, noon, and night. Smoking had well and truly taken over our lives.
However, coughing was just one of the few downsides of living with three normally rather drunk hormonal heavy smoking women. Life was more often than not stressful for me. It should not have been.
I tried to have the three girls slightly different, to give my perverse delights a little variety and flavor. You have to enjoy yourself when you are enjoying debauchery? Tina, she was solely devoted to her cigarettes. She could not move without thinking about her next cigarette and the one after. To be fair with her size, moving anywhere was a struggle and required effort which she did not want to expend. Amy, her first thoughts were drink. Where was she going to get her next alcoholic glass from. Which soon meant she had to piss. She was like horse in that respect. Continually peeing all over the place. That left Vicky, she ended up in between. She liked to drink, and she liked to smoke. On average I probably preferred the moderation. I liked her, I actually loved her a lot. I think she loved me back. However, with all three I got the diversity. As for me I liked to smoke, drink, and have my ever-unfulfilled libido sorted by having sex with whoever was willing and hovering their sexy fat arse in front of me at the time.
This freedom created a downside.
What created the arguments as to whose turn it was to have sex with me. It was not uncommon whilst I was having sex with Vicky, for Tina to huff and come in and interrupt us by sitting on the bed when I was trying to focus on the pleasure that I was getting from being ball deep inside a very wet dripping Vicky. She would sit there, glass of wine in one hand, light a cigarette, and try and have a sensible deep and meaningful with me. It would be great at any normal point of the evening, but then. I was trying to have fun. Also, it was more often was a whining drunk conversation. Which every time would end up with her bitterly complaining that I was not spending enough time with her. Vicky would then get cross that I would lose interest in her and then did not cum. It's difficult when you are being emotionally distracted.
The argument that we had slept with each other the night before was neither here nor there. I was not with her there and then. I would offer to have sex with her, and she would huff and waddle off.
For me it was almost easier, and I really did not mind when the girls decided to play with each other. I enjoyed the view. It was far less stressful. Sitting there smoking a cigarette and watching the delightfully fat arses slapping, jiggling and wobbling as they went down on each other. The grunts and screams of pleasure they gave each other. Especially when they got their toys out. Yes, at those moments I was surplus to requirements, but I got to enjoy their large fat breasts and thighs slapping together. I got as much pleasure watching that as if I was involved. Sometimes it was easier if I was not. As I could sit there naked, light a cigarette, drink a beer, and watch as if it was on Pornhub, but was live in my front room. Occasionally Tina would come over and give my erection some attention. But very occasionally. She was too busy getting eaten by either Vicky or Amy.
All the growing stress for us all, led to more eating, drinking, smoking. Which then created loads more drunken emotional grouchiness. I found that I was metaphorically and realistically trying to spread my now chubby legs and fat self too far too thin. I did try to placate everyone in their sexual needs. Some nights it was kiss Vicky, finger Amy, and penetrate Tina with my cock all at the same time. At that very moment in time great fun. Fingers were going everywhere. We had to use the living room floor, as there was not enough space on the beds for all four of us. We were now that fat, heavy, and large we were in danger of falling out.
There was one downside to the pleasure. The arguments afterwards were definitely not fun. The crying emotional arguments. Vicky should have been penetrated, Amy kissed, and Tina fingered or a variation of. After drinking all evening, they could never remember whose turn it was for what. I certainly could not. I just wished that we could enjoy the moment. It was not meant to be a chore. I was really enjoying my sex life until the arguments.
Plus, to be honest our stamina for long foreplay and then sex was getting pathetic. We were smoking too much. We were happier sitting down drinking and smoking, than climbing on all fours on the bed. Sitting down was far easier and equally enjoyable for all concerned.
One Wednesday morning after waking up next to a hungover Amy and between urgent drags on her cigarette she had given me a rather nice smokey blowjob to deal with my morning glory. At that moment, I knew things had to change. Looking up across the room Tina was leaning her weight against the doorway, her face was reflected in the red glow from her cigarette. As she pulled the smoke into lungs the light showed her moody face. It told me that she was again looking incredibly cross at both of us.
We were rudely interrupted by the doorbell. It was nearly eleven, it would be Tiffany the post girl. Why she had to ring the doorbell, when she could have easily used the letterbox was beyond me. Part of me thought she enjoyed seeing us partially dressed opening the door. It had become a game.
She was a really pretty young blonde thing. Nice swinging ponytail. Always wore tight shorts that showed off her assets even in the depth of winter. Nice looking stocky thighs and the shorts highlighted her gorgeous chunky buttocks. I enjoyed watching her through the windows of her walking around the streets. That was of course when we had the curtains open. Because we were naked most of the time, we never really opened them.