Twenty-Eight
'After Party'
The yard is mostly empty now. Nearly everyone has left.
Parents took their kids home for the stuff parents need to do with kids in the evening.
People with obligations in the morning left... sleep, ya know.
Others left due to simple exhaustion.
And then, there were the flying biters that come out at sunset.
The Food Services professor is over at the table packing food - apparently he'd searched out the TupperWare, plastic wrap and aluminum foil while we were... otherwise occupied.
He has already wrapped up the meat and veggies from the grill.
He looks content, working in his element.
Chet and Riley are lounging in the loungers, relaxed, wasted, as they drink the last of the beer.
They look at us as we come out the door.
"Hey, bro, where ya been?"
"Yeah, ya missed a hella party, man."
I smile and nod, and remember their performance in our office.
I smile at the image of your mother battered, bridged between these powerful boys, her dangling limbs and arms flopping under their intense indifference to her.
She loved it.
Even though she was experiencing no serious pain, it WAS enforced surrender.
She loved it.
Juli and Jodi, the gymnastic cheerleaders lean against the trunk of the tree, their cheeks and chins sloppy with smeared sauce as they eat BBQ with their fingers. They are grinning and laughing at their quiet jokes, no doubt inside jokes, while they observe and make comments as the party straggles out.
They casually wipe their sloppy hands on each other's naked thighs.
I can see that they have also painted the skin exposed between their tops and shorts.
Twins share much, I suppose.
Several people are gathered at the gate, making good-byes, I amble over to assist in their departure.
"Excuse me. Excuse me," I hear a familiar voice.
Betty is working her way upstream through the departures.
"Hey, we weren't invited?" she chides me with a laugh.
"You know, any time you show up is a good time."
"Yep."
She passes me and moves towards you.
Jim, Gail, and Peter follow her through the gate.
Gail peels off from the quartet and comes to me.
She looks so fine in her blue plaid shirt rolled up and tied tightly under her tits.
The way she has it done-up molds to her breasts and displays their size and heft, deliberately filling that shirt.
She throws her arms around me. Arms made dense and powerful by years of labor.
She squeezes, flattening her large breasts against my ribs.
She looks up laughing, her bangs draping to the sides of her broad forehead.
Her blonde hair hangs loose half-way down her back.
She shakes it and her smile opens her face like a blooming primrose.
My cock springs to stiffen quickly, surprised by her enthusiasm.
"Betty tells me you like strong women."
"She knows."
"And Mel says you know how to use this." Her left hand moves smoothly to my crotch and grips my cock through my pants.
"She knows." I smile down at this agressive wench.
"I like that."
She slides my zipper open.
"And I like that."
She reaches in to grip my shaft.
I arch my back, pulling her shoulders with me and lifting my cock firmly into her hand.
She takes a short hop up and, wrapping her legs around my thighs, lifts herself to kiss my chin through my beard.
I wobble unsteadily with my legs pinned together.
She laughs and squirms her fly against my cock.
I lose my balance and fall on my ass, dragging her on top of me.
"Get it, Girl," hollers Peter.
He comes over to stand above us, straddling feet planted on either side of our hips.
Gail grinds down on my stiffening cock and I lift to assist.
Suddenly, Gail is floating above me, looking down startled and laughing.
Peter lifts her with one hand gripping the scruff of her neck and the other dug into the waistband of her short cut-offs - cut off to the crotch seam.
"Yaaaa... You jerk," she laughs, twisting in his arms.
