Playmates Ch 4

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This story is a work fiction. None of the characters or events herein are based on real people, either living or dead. It was produced for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or if reading stories of a sexual nature upsets you, do not read any further! By reading further, you certify that you have accessed/requested access to this material willfully, and that you are an adult 21 years of age or older. You also certify that you are NOT a city, county, state, or federal law enforcement officer, official of the United States Postal Service, acting in the capacity of a representative of a telecommunications firm, and that, to your knowledge, this material does not offend the standards in your area, nor is it in violation of any of local, state, or federal law. No animals were harmed in the manufacture of this product.

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Claire pushed her tongue in deeper, licking relentlessly. Excitement coursed through Vicky's body, in her head, in her chest, everywhere. Flattening her tongue, Claire ran it quickly along Vicky's slit, tickling her lips and making her even wetter, alternating between jamming her tongue into the folds of Vicky's pussy and fishing around for her clit. Vicky bucked her hips forcefully against Claire's face, trying to work her tongue in further.

In real life, Claire had a hand between her legs and was fingering herself furiously; on screen, Alan's bludgeoning penis split her slim hips and thighs apart screen. Vicky was in sensory overload, watching the video yet feeling that same woman's tongue dance over her inflamed mound. Claire's cries were muffled, cut off by Vicky's attempts to stuff her whole head in her pussy. Vicky couldn't stop shaking, a series of small orgasms wracking her body, and she could feel a big one on the horizon. She wasn't sure when she zoned out, in fact didn't even realize that she had, until Alan's voice cut through the wet carnal sounds that filled the room.

"Oh Goddamn!" he bellowed, snapping off the television.

Startled, Vicky tried to push Claire away but Claire held her firmly, too engrossed in the act to be distracted. Vicky watched in lust-tinged horror as Alan stripped off his clothes and came over to the couch.

"Claire said you were a hot little bitch, and I thought I had a pretty good idea how hot you were, but I was way off," he said, climbing up on the sofa and offering her his thickening cock.

Until now, Vicky had not been with another man since she married Lance. Truth be told, she had no reason to; he had one of the longest cocks she'd ever seen. But this was different. Alan was thicker, as big around as her wrist, and dangling invitingly in front of her lips. Without further prompting she reached out and guided it to her lips.

"That's a good girl," he cooed.

Claire nuzzled Vicky's rock hard clit, causing her to open her mouth as wide as it would go at the same time that Alan placed a hand behind Vicky's head and pressed firmly, forcing the enormous head of his cock past her teeth. He felt her tongue gently tickle it.

"Oh shit Claire, she's going to make me cum in her mouth," he hissed

Claire added a finger to Vicky's pussy, sliding it in and out as she sucked and nibbled on her clit and crammed 3 fingers into her own cunt. Vicky sucked hard on Alan's cock, gobbling hungrily while she pulled and massaged his balls, humming low to cause vibrations and make his cock strum. Claire and Alan came at exactly the same time, Claire screaming between Vicky's legs as Alan emptied his cock down her throat. Vicky tried to swallow every drop but several streams spilled out as Claire's convulsions shook her body.

Outside, Lance pulled up in front of the Rossas' house; he'd finished his round early and thought he would save Alan the forty-five minute drive out to his in-laws. He walked around back, taking a chance that the kids might be playing in the yard. Reaching the sliding glass door, his hand froze in mid air as he reached for the handle, stunned at the scene before him. His back to the glass doors, Alan was helping Vicky onto her back on the floor with her pussy facing him (and therefore Lance). She was pulling and grabbing at her tits, her orgasm so close, and whimpering. Taking his still stiff cock in his hand, Alan placed the head very gently against the opening of her pussy.

"That's right, play with those beautiful tits," he coaxed, draping her legs over his shoulders. "Let me see those nipples twist."

Obediently Vicky rolled her jagged nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each hand, tugging and twisting, eyes closed, trying to wriggle onto this cock.

"Bet your husband never made you this hot, did he?" Alan snarled. "Answer me!"

"Oh God no," she wailed. "Please, please don't tease me!"

A self-satisfied smile on his lips he leaned forward, forcing what felt like a baseball sized cock head into her swollen pussy. The suddenness of the motion made Vicky scream so loud that Lance heard it outside.

Panting, Vicky grabbed Alan's hips to try to control his motion, to slow him down so that she could adjust to his cock, but she was unable to restrain him. He continued to apply his weight until he was buried deep in her. Reflexively her legs wrapped around his thighs and held him close, liquid from her pussy spilling out to provide greater lubrication. She screwed him hard and he responded by slamming into her with the force of a jackhammer.

The look of conquest on Alan's face, the wet sound of him sliding in and out of Vicky, the smell of sex and sweat all mingled together, finally took its toll on Claire. She climbed atop Vicky's face and screwed her pussy down over her mouth. Vicky's hands flew from Alan to Claire, lifting her slightly, repositioning her so that she could breathe. Claire spread her legs farther apart to give Vicky better access to her warm hole and her swollen clit. Vicky's tongue moved inside her, teasing her inner walls with short, firm strokes and showering Claire with hot, hard, wet licks. Claire reached out to brace herself against her husband as a new orgasm began building.

"Eat her good, Vicky. Make my baby happy!" Alan grunted, ramming his cock into her harder.

Claire tensed as her eyes focused in back of her husband, on the patio doors, and saw Lance Montgomery standing outside. Their eyes met, and then Claire let her gaze drop to his crotch. Son of a Bitch! Even in his jeans she could see that this guy swung a big pipe! The bulge ran all the way down his left pant leg, stopping about three inches above his knee. And it was clear that watching the three of them turned him on!

The knowledge that she was the only one who knew that they had been discovered sent a shiver down her spine. She grabbed her own tits roughly, offering them to him, playing for his benefit as she ground her pussy into his wife's face. Then she reached down and squeezed Vicky's nipples, making her moan and fuck Alan even faster. Suddenly, Vicky began bucking and screaming under them as she finally reached climax. Alan pulled out of her twitching pussy and shot a huge stream of cum on the two women, jerking his own cock hard as he pumped string after string of hot gooey liquid over their bellies, some striking Vicky's face and the inside of Claire's thighs. Claire leaned forward and took Alan's softening cock in her mouth as she also started to cum. By the time it was all over, Lance was gone.

Vicky cleaned up before Lance and Terry got home, erasing any evidence of the afternoon's activities. Lance was in a weird mood, alternately very friendly and very distant, but she chalked it up to him having had a rough time at dinner. However, that night they had sex for the first time in months. Despite his impressive size, Lance usually came pretty quick; this time, he was a man possessed, taking her roughly and staying hard close to an hour. Vicky, still tender from the pounding she'd gotten from Alan earlier, was much more vocal than she probably would have been even under normal circumstances, spurring him on until they both dropped from exhaustion, their bed a wet sticky mass of bodies and bed sheets. At breakfast the next morning, Lance was all sunshine and happiness; Vicky, on the other hand, could barely walk without wincing.

"You know Vicky, we should really get to know the Rossas better. I was thinking maybe we could invite them over for dinner and drinks."

"Really?" Vicky looked up from her coffee, a quizzical look on her face. Lance wasn't known for his sociability.

"Yes, really. In fact, I think we should try to do it next Friday. We could hire a sitter, leave all of the kids over there, and have a night just for the adults."

The coming Friday was bad, but next one after that was fine. Over the ensuing two weeks, Vicky and Jeff had sex everyday, and a few times even had it twice in the same day. His behavior was a little unsettling, but his performance was amazing. And it wasn't all limited to the bed; sometimes he'd slip in the shower, other times he'd grab her after they put Terry down. She even stopped wearing underwear so she'd always be ready, and pretty much stopped thinking about the Rossas at all.

When the day finally came, Vicky dropped Terry off at Claire's while Lance stayed home and got the steaks started. Back home, she put several bottles in the freezer to chill and finished up a few last minutes tasks in the kitchen as they waited for their guests to arrive. She'd been in a daring mood when she got dressed that evening, and had chosen a summer weight skirt that stopped mid thigh and a very low cut short-sleeved blouse. As usual, she wasn't wearing any panties, and had also elected not to wear a bra, so when she leaned over, her tits practically spilled out. Lance showed his approval by quickly fingering her to orgasm in the kitchen while she was trying to pull together a quick salad.

She heard the doorbell ring, and a few minutes later Lance led Claire and Alan through the kitchen and out onto the deck. Lance was dressed comfortably in a baggy pair of cotton pants and an impossibly tight t-shirt, one that accented every ripple and muscle on his very impressive frame. Like Vicky he was barefoot, and gave off an air of athletic casualness.

Claire was dressed in a matching shorts and tank top outfit the color of the night sky. Her hair hung loosely around her face, framing it, and her eyes had a strange heaviness, almost like she was trying to fight off sleep. Alan had tried to dress to impress a little more by wearing a tank top and athletic shorts, but next to Lance he just looked scrawny.

"I thought we could eat outside since it's so nice," Lance announced. Everyone agreed it was a great idea.

Vicky served the first bottle of wine while they waited for the food to cook, a sweet white that normally went better with dessert but was nice on the warm summer evening. With dinner they went through two bottles of strong red, and by the time they got around to coffee and cake, everyone was feeling no pain.

"I have a question, Alan," Lance said lazily from a deck chair as the conversation drifted into a comfortable silence.

Something in his tone of his voice made Vicky perk up. Despite his best efforts there was an edge, one she associated with him verbally dominating a weaker, unwitting opponent.

"Lance," she warned.

"No, no, honey, it's a simple question, really," he cut her off. "I just wanted to know when I get to fuck his wife, since they both had such a good time with you?"

To Be Continued...