My Initiation

Andrea went and sat beside a topless Brad. Michelle and I sat on the other two-seater sofa. She tucked her knees beneath her and leant into me. Brad had set a fire that was catching as the new music of choice kicked in: some dance-infused Bossa Nova. Brad was sipping vodka straight from the bottle. His kingly aura had returned: he was sat like a warrior recently returned from war with his admirers sprawled around him. Andrea was laying on his lap, stroking him through his jeans, purring in anticipation. She then wriggled out of her black satin leggings: she was wearing no underwear. She lay across his torso and swung her legs from side-to-side, revealing glimpses of a hairy pussy and a piercing in the hood of her clit, a silver loop amongst the thick brown coils of hair.

Brad placed the vodka bottle on the floor. "Why don't you two give us a little show?" he said with a twirl of his finger. There was no inflection to make it sound as a question; it was an order loosely veiled as a question. "Something to set the mood." Andrea adjusted herself so she was looking directly at Michelle and I.

"Oh, that's-" Zats "-a good idea, Brad. That I would like to see," she said while running her fingers across her breasts.

"Show Andrea how much you love sucking Jack's cock, honey."

"Yes. Show me!"

The flames reflected off Michelle's eyes, eyes that said "challenge accepted". She smirked and at once looked like a teenager with an 'I'll show you' attitude and also a proud warrior herself. She carefully undid my trousers, not once taking her eyes off her husband. Then, with my flaccid penis liberated, she kissed me with everything she had. Her tongue roamed around my mouth. It was a kiss that delivered a message. It said: I'm 100% into you. Let's show them how we fuck. My penis was flaccid no more. She bit my lip teasingly and licked the spot she'd just dig her teeth into. She then slid from the sofa, a slow, serpentine movement. She removed my trousers and boxers completely and said in a firm tone: "Take off your top."

She flipped from repressed wife to slinky seductress in the amount of time it takes electricity to light the filament inside a bulb. She was kissing my thigh muscles, oval-shaped slabs of sinewy meat gained from twice weekly football sessions. I settled back into the pillows, watching the hypnotic twirls of her tongue and feeling the hot pall of her breath against my skin. I was oblivious to Brad and Andrea, but I caught the glint of the vodka bottle refracted against the firelight. I allowed myself the daydream that we were alone. While watching Michelle move closer to my enlarging penis, I swore to myself that as soon as I was home, I would use my laptop to find us an available hotel room.

Michelle then did a surprising thing. She shuffled backwards, away from me, her dressing gown now riding up and over her hips, revealing her big ass directly to the fire, and she began kissing my feet. She lifted each foot in turn and covered it in kisses and inch-long licks. She inhaled the soles, her nostrils flared as she drew the scent into her, and then she began sucking on each of my toes, beginning with the big toe and working down toward the smallest. My impulse was too stop her. During this fetishist foot worship, her gaze was fixed on mine; her eyes told me to remain where I was and let her do this. Michelle took my right foot, slightly bruised after a late challenge from the weekend before, and she rubbed it over her tits, especially concentrating my big toe against and around her hard nipple. Was this a morsel of revenge for Brad ruining our post-threesome meal with a story about heavenly tits Lolly? She then returned her face to my foot and inhaled the smell with the same fervour a person breathes in the floral freshness of clean bedsheets.

"That's so hot," said Andrea.

"Hmm," replied Brad, his voice a low, bass-driven sound.

"Look at his face. He loves it."

The sight of his wife twirling her tongue around my feet caused Brad to sit up in his seat. He begin to remove his trousers. His expression was intense, bordering on angry. In the glow of the fire, there was something demonic in his face as he grabbed a handful of Andrea's hair and guided her toward his cock. Andrea's lips slid up and down his cock, well as much of it as she could take in her mouth. I could see the mound of her hairy pussy which was now a mere foot from Michelle's. I noticed Andrea rubbing at Michelle's calf with her toes. She was a multi-tasker. She sucked off Brad with such dedication that she caused Brad close his eyes and sit back in ecstasy. Andrea laughed and then, holding his meat at the base in a ring, she sunk her teeth into his fleshy cock. Brad grunted. They stared at one another with their teeth barred. She took her teeth away and began sucking him again, gagging herself as she plunged onto his enormous wood.

"Take it all, Andrea. Do what you came here to do!" he told her firmly.

The sounds of Andrea's gagging signalled the end of my foot pleasure and the beginning of my oral experience. Michelle moved swiftly from my feet to my cock. Her performance with my toes had ignited my nerves. Imagine a supercomputer sending out thousands of pieces of date to a network of receptive computers: that's what she done to my feet. My skin was prickled and my hair stood on end. So, when she took my cock in her mouth, a deep and slow movement encompassing over half of my long cock, I couldn't help but yelp and then cry out: "Oh, my fucking god."

"Mmm. You like that?" She giggled and carried on taking my length in long graceful gulps. She looked up at me and reached her hand outward. Our fingers interlocked for a moment and squeezed. I then took her fingers in my mouth and sucked on them: I needed a part of her inside me. Understanding this, she removed her fingers from my mouth, dove them into her satin panties and returned them, after a few seconds, back toward my open mouth. They were glistening and her sharp pungency wafted into my nostrils before I tasted it and sucked it off her fingers with the rapture of a man finding an icicle after a day lost in the desert.

I was aware of movement on the other sofa, and as Michelle moved her attention toward my swelling balls, I looked over at our challengers. Brad had swapped places with Andrea, although she was kneeling against the sofa rather than seated on it. His face was buried in her ass. He pulled out for some air and to deliver a resounding smack against her white flesh. A huge red imprint was left against her cheek, as thought she'd been branded. The slap caused me to wince, but Andrea flung her head back in joy and mumbled in German as Brad plunged his tongue back into her ass hole ringed by small coils of dark hair. The anal tableau was quite the stimulant: I had to wank my cock as I watched them. Brad's meaty cock was hanging before him like, silhouetted against the orange flames. I couldn't wait to see him squeeze it the German's dance-toned ass. He was forcing his tongue in the hole, as though he'd left something deep inside her that could only be removed with the tip of the body's strongest muscle. And she was loving it.

Michelle regained my attention: she stood up and moved onto the sofa, straddling me, her hard nipples inches from my mouth. "I'm yours," she whispered into my ear. I smiled, kissed her and manoeuvred my member toward her pussy. I stroked my head along her labia. She rested her head into the crook of my neck and gently bit my flesh. "Do it," she said. "Do it, Jack!"

I eased inside her. "Oh my god," we said in unison. She swallowed a copious amount of air before trapping her mouth shut. Her body shuddered. After a brief pause, she began to ride me. Her cunt gripped the length of my cock as she masterly grinded down on me, twisting her hips in a circular motion, taking my rigid member on a twirling tour as she slid up and down it. It sounded like faraway, but I heard Brad mention lubricant. Then I was aware of him standing beside up in the doorway, looking down at his wife, the tips of the hairs covering his barrel chest and stomach slightly dampened. Michelle failed to notice him there. When her face wasn't burrowed into my neck, her eyes were closed.

Brad stomped upstairs to get lubricant. Her ass given a few moment's respite, Andrea, her face flushed with desire, crawled on all fours to our sofa and began licking my balls. She must've divided her attention between my balls and Michelle's ass because the sweet sensation I felt would stop and then Michelle would reach the next level of pleasure. I could hear the thwacking sound of Andrea's tongues and lips moulding around Michelle's ass hole.

When Brad returned, us three were still connected, Michelle being the highest beneficiary of stimuli in that moment. This time, Michelle saw her husband: she smiled. Cock and her anus bath had made her magnanimous. Something in her eyes must've told Brad to feed her his re-enlarging dong, because he offered it to her and she greedily accepted it. It was the first time I'd ever seen a cock offered and a blowjob returned as a way of sealing a truce.

Michelle was unable to concentrate on cock for long. Perhaps the taste of her husband was the final sensation to push her close to the precipice of another of her cataclysmic orgasms. She began to grind me harder, faster and deeper. Andrea was forced to step backwards; I held onto the sofa for my life, secretly casting my eyes to the enormous tombs of art literature on the coffee table to remove my mind from the impossibly sensitive head of my own cock: I needed to keep my orgasm at bay. This wasn't helped as I watched Brad smother his long, fat inches with transparent lubricant. Not for the first time, I imagined myself trying to squeeze that thing into me. Was it possible? I was about to witness him do it to Andrea, who'd returned to the other sofa, her ass in the air and her ass cheeks spread. Brad spat on her hole and slapped her ass one my time, the other cheek this time. The imprint of his first slap remained, a deep ochre colour as apparent as a muddy footprint in pristine snow.

Michelle's orgasm crashed into her. She screamed and arched her back; in the firelight, she resembled a lady from a tribe, twisting and contorting under the spell of black magic, albeit a white version of those mystical beings. She lay across me panting.

I was watching Brad line himself up to Andrea's puckering hole. "Use my ass, Brad. It's yours. I'm yours. Fill my ass with your cock!"

"I'm going to fuck your ass and then you're going to suck my cock again."

"Yes, Brad." He spanked her ass hard, deepening the tone of the welt that he'd already left there. "Yes, sir, yes. Anything, yes."

He teased it against her wrinkled hole. It contracted as though in protest, then assented and fanned outward again; he seized his moment and pushed him golf ball-sized head into the lubricated hole as wide as a penny. There was resistance, a breathless groan from Andrea, his determined, contorted face, and then her ass relented and an inch of his flowed inside her. He paused and steadied himself, then he pushed again. Two more inches had disappeared into her ass, and the walls of her narrow opening had stretched gratuitously outwards. Thank god for lubricant! Brad began him rhythm now. With a hand on either side of Andrea's slender hips, he rowed back and forth inside her. His head remained in her as, but three chunky, veiny inches slid in and out with predictable difficulty. Andrea was grinning. Spit was caught on her chin. She begged him for more.

Michelle had removed herself from my lap. She began sucking my cock as I watched Brad and Andrea.

"You're my anal whore, Andrea."

"Yes, yes!" Zes, zes!

"I'm going to fuck you and then you're going to clean your ass off my dick?"

"Yes!"

"Then Jack's going to fuck you ass because you're an ass slut."

"Yes! I'm your ass slut."

"You're anyone's."

"Yes, master. Anyone. Argh!

Master was like the final bell as runners reach the final lap, because Brad pushed more of himself inside her, the bulkiest midsection of his cock. I couldn't believe what I was seeing, not that he managed to get it in, but how well Andrea was taking it. She was a shuddering, eye rolling, spitting wreck (understandable with the forearm-sized weapon plunged in her tightest orifice) and she was fucking loving it!

Desire took hold of me like rage. I lifted Michelle and placed her on the on the other sofa, so she was laying beside Andrea, not facing her. Andrea's face was in the cushions, groaning against the material. She squeezed at the pillows and Brad pushed more of himself inside her with each thrust.

I put Michelle's ankles above my shoulders and inserted my throbbing dick inside her gaping, soppy pussy. Nothing delicate now, I started pounding her pussy hard, switching my attention between her face and Brad's continuing assault on Andrea's stretching ass hole. I loved the way Michelle's flesh rippled when I gave her hard thrusts. Andrea's remained in place, but there was a slight wobble on her ass when Brad finally inserted all of his dong inside her, contacting his hips against her ass.

The smack of our flesh became the steady beat. The girls' groans made the disjointed melody on top. I believed I could never have enough of Michelle: Every inch of her, including her hugging, velvety insides, had me completely enthralled. I increased my beat and she reached her orgasmic crescendo. It hadn't taken long. She grabbed her tits and squeezed them. A tremor ran through her body, like the vibrations through a taut piece of string, and her eyes rolled upwards, revealing the bloodshot whites, as the world stripped away and took her to the private place where an orgasm had the incredible, unsettling, addictive out-of-body effect. I pulled my cream-slathered cock out of her. Her pussy lips seemed to sigh as they readjusted.

The smell in the room was strong, pungent, sweet and bitter. Two wet cunts gave of an acrid, alluring tang, and our two large cocks slathered in ass and pussy juice stank in front of me, hypnotically so, wonderfully so. Sweat was the sweet undertone, as was a smoky hue from the fire.

"Jack, Andrea's ready." She was sat on Brad, his pylon deeply embedded in her ass, his knees bent up by her sides and her glistening pussy spread for me. I wiped my cock with a wet wipe and used a bit of spit to lubricate my first two inches. Andrea was smiling; she seemed high. When I poked my head into her pussy, she returned to reality with a gasp. I'd felt my own fingers through the walls of a woman's anal cavity, long and slender, but Brad's cock was a large hot thing that pressed into the adjacent space and throbbed with the its own beat. Sliding alongside that into Andrea was incredible. Andrea was in rapture. She spoke but the words lacked all coherence. She bounced as much as she could into Brad and I met her movements with thrusts of my own. The space was so tight, it seemed her ass hole took more traffic than her pussy, and the feeling was a pleasurable pressure against my cock. The truce was holding, because Michelle joined us on the sofa and began sucking hard on Andrea's nipples and rubbing her clit, a huge clit the size of an olive, in quick, clockwise wipes. Andrea dug the pain. She bit the flesh of her own arm leaving a red welt and two oval rows of teeth marks. Michelle obviously knew what she liked and was vacuuming up her nipple and areola inches away from her body. Andrea orgasmed. She became silent for a while, the scream a silent one, and them a loud one, a scream loud enough to worry to the neighbours, to precipitate a call to the police. She began panting like a marathoner crossing the line after a final sprinted mile. Her chest heaved. She snogged Brad, only Brad, and trembled and writhed and groaned while the sweat poured out across her body.

Next, it was the turn of the men. My balls were aching with an impatient load. I'd been teetering on the precipice of ejaculating for over half-an-hour. If I'd have tensed my pubic muscle anymore to hold an orgasm at bay, I fear I might've torn the bloody thing. The girls sat Brad and I side-by-side on the sofa, so our thighs were touching. His skin was pulsating and slick. Andrea was already licking her ass off Brad's cock, running her tongue across it like an ice cream cone. Michelle followed suit with me, no doubt tasting a combination of her juices and Andrea's. Both women attacked their work with relish, they did pause to snog each other while pumping our big, heavy dicks. Their tongues flicked over each other's. I could tell they were sharing all the four flavours of each of our sex.

I was enraptured, and then I came. Suddenly. Enormously! Michelle noticed the flexation of my cock and the final moment glass-shattering solidity. Then a spurt of come, like an oil rig blowing its top, tore into the air and lashed onto my thigh and Brad's arm. Michelle sealed the hole with her mouth and took every subsequent burst into her mouth. "Argh, ahh!" Brad was also coming. He held Andera onto his cock. I could see her throat struggling to take his big dick and tears were bunched at the corner of her eyes.

"Show us," demanded Brad, panting, releasing Andrea who gasped for air. They opened their mouths to reveal two swirling pools of pale cum. "Kiss." They kissed and lost of some of the load onto their tits. Brad jumped forward and lapped at these errant drips. I followed suit and kissed Michelle.

"Hold it, Andrea," Brad was saying. He held her mouth open and looked at Michelle.

"Give it to her, Michelle." Michelle sidled over to Andrea and let what remained of my load to roll into the hourglass-shaped hole Brad had made with his fingers. "Hold it, hold it," he whispered. "Look at me. Swallow it all." She did. Her throat tensed with the effort and she stuck out her long, pink tongue to show us that she'd ingested every drop.

"I did it," she said to Brad.

"Good, good," He replied, rubbing her sweaty, mangled hair from her forehead, an oddly tender exchanged.

Michelle kissed me, stood and went to the kitchen. "I need water!"

I lay back on the sofa, completely spent, completely sexually satiated. The stink of cum was overpowering, so I took a sip from a glass of wine that was on a table beside the sofa, really inserting my nose into the glass to breathe in the boquet.

"Come and watch this, Jack." Brad held Andrea's hand and led her to the upstairs bathroom. We three stepped inside, Michelle had remained rolling a fresh joint close to the warm fire. Without saying anything, Andrea got into the empty bathtub and sat with her legs folded beneath her body. Brad sidled to the side of the bath, positioned himself directly in front of the German dancer and, after a moment's concentration staring ahead at the blue tiles, released a heavy silvery, slightly copper-tinted rope of piss all over Andrea's unquestioning, docile face. He covered her face, her shoulders and the roots of her hair. He tensed his pubic muscle to halt the stream. "Open your mouth, Andrea."

There was the slightest pause from Andrea, a moment of consideration, a base questioning of what she was doing, and then that familiar smile, a slightly maniacal glint, spread across her face. Her mouth dropped open. Brad aimed his tangy torrent at the space she'd made for him. I watched in mixture of arousal and rising disgust as the piss pooled in her open mouth and began to lap over the sides of her cheeks.

"You know what you are, Andrea?" She nodded, and when she nodded more of Brad's liquid waste spilled over her lower lip. "You're my whore, my toilet whore, aren't you?" More wordless agreement. "Good girl. Swallow." Again, a pause. Then in one heady gulp, Andrea ingested it. She sucked her tongue, making the sucking sound of someone tasting a fine vintage of wine, as she tasted it from her tongue.