"Oh don't worry about me," Gerry said. "The night's still young."
"But it's not fair that we don't get to see you perform," Donna added, probably hoping to shame him into producing his small package for full display.
"Oh, I'm saving that for the little lady. But it looks like the two of you might have some unfinished business. You wanna take a seat down here and have a taste?"
Donna reacted as if someone had lit a fire under her ass. Before I knew it, she was on the floor, between my thighs and licking her lips while Gerry massaged her breasts from behind.
"You seem like a tough act to follow," she said, moving her face closer to my snatch.
"I'm sure you'll give her a good go," he said with a wink.
Donna glanced at me then descended. Her wet tongue entered my slit and I gasped. She braced my writhing hips with her hands and pleasured me with savage laps at my pussy. I ran my fingers through her hair and bit my lip. I squeezed a breast allowing myself to bask in the fulfilled promise of our earlier encounter in the kitchen. After my bucking hips trembled through another orgasm, I came to one conclusion—there was no way Donna hadn't eaten pussy before.
After she was done, she crawled on top of me. Gerry took advantage by moving behind her and treating her to his magic tongue and finger skills. She moaned into my mouth before her lips settled over mine. My hands moved behind her and I held her close while she ground her pussy into mine. Gerry then started moving from one exposed pussy to the other, taking turns licking both of us. Cheers exploded in the background as the others encouraged us. I looked over Donna's shoulder and spotted Tiffany kissing and licking the dried cum from Sandra's face. We were in full orgy mode and there was no turning back.
Eventually, Donna lifted my leg and we ended up in a scissor lock position, our pussies mashing together and a finger from Gerry in each one. I watched Donna's hips rotate and smash against my mound as if she possessed a cock. It was so erotic I couldn't help but shudder. That set off a ripple in her and she came on top of me. After a few minutes to catch her breath, she sank between my legs and ran her tongue over my clit while Gerry worked his fingers inside me. Together they pulled me over the edge and I came again, almost passing out from the force of my climax.
Finally spent, we all sat huffing and puffing as the others stared at us. They gave us a round of applause. If my legs weren't essentially jelly, I would have stood and taken a bow.
The next part of the evening, if you can believe it, was actually more surreal than the wanton acts of depravity we'd committed. We took turns in the showers, and I loaded the washer. Of course, halfway into the first load, I caught inspiration for a kick-ass laundry detergent commercial. It was something about two sluts folding clothes, and the first slut lamenting how she
just couldn't seem to get those awful cum stains out.
The second slut, of course, smiles and asks,
"Well have you tried '______'?"
while holding the bottle up for the camera. Then they cut to a side-by-side and we see two huge cocks jerk off on identical shirts, producing equally sized jizz stains. Then one is washed with—ah fuck it. You see where I was going. I thought it was pretty funny so
fuck you
, for not laughing.
Back to the 'surreal' part. It was weird not knowing how we should feel. Mark and Sandra chose to walk around stark naked as if there was nothing abnormal about it, but I wasn't buying it. It was a presentation. Normal isn't something you have to pretend to not be aware of. When shit is what it should be, you're focused on the conversations and interactions—not sneaking peeks around the room to see if someone is going to comment on how abnormal the normal is.
Me, I felt anything but normal. I felt way outside the natural orbit of my comfort zone. Jettisoned along my way into deep space, was my sense of appropriate/inappropriate and my cool/
not
cool sensors. If there were boundaries, what were they? Would it be
out of bounds
to just reach over and jerk Mark's cock?
Inbounds
to slip a couple of digits into Sandra's delightful little honey basket and work them around until I got the reaction I wanted?
Rick was no source for answers. Every time I managed to make eye contact with him, I got a shrug, or a distracted grin, or the sense that I was interrupting his thoughts about what he had planned for Sandra after everyone left.
Oh shit. In all that happened, did I really forget that the night wasn't over? Of course I didn't. Gerry had made it clear that I had still had his cock to look forward to once he got me back to his place. Hooray me. Can't wait to feel his beer gut whapping the air from my lungs ... his flab smacking my rib cage like a snapping towel in a men's locker room and him trying to shove his cubby little worm inside me.
No, the part that skipped my mind, was Sandra being alone in my house with my husband, free to raid my fridge and leak womb juice all over my sheets. Wasn't quite sure how I felt about all that. Then again, I was basically doing the same thing with her husband. But it was
Gerry
. While she and Rick would be going from room to room, trying to figure out which piece of my furniture to desecrate next, I'd be on the run, fighting for my fugitive pussy's survival as Warden Stumpdick led chase through the woods.
A soft finger on my shoulder startled me out of my thoughts. It was Donna, rocking jean shorts and a pink tank. Since it was her idea to start things off at my place, she'd prepared for the possibility with a change of clothes. I noticed a seductive twinkle in her eyes. Were we about to go at it in my laundry room? Might be a good story for later, but honesty, my pussy was tender-lickin' dry. I needed a break and though Donna had a nice little 'sexpot aura' glowing around her toned body and pouty lips, the prospect of some down time seemed much more appealing.
Donna's intentions seemed pure however. She held up her hand. Dangling at the end of her index finger, was the pair of black thong panties I'd noticed earlier through the fabric of her dress.
"Forgot to throw these in for the wash," she said. "Not exactly stained though."
"Yeah ..." I whipped around to make sure no one was within earshot. "So Byron, what was that about?"
