If At First You Don't Succeed...

The man turned sideways to the camera, which zoomed in on his cock, free, throbbing and glistening. Then he turned and disappeared.

The camera panned out and lingered. All ten girls were in subtle, or not so subtle motion, some grinding to and fro on their dildos, some raising and lowering their groins.

The chant had ceased. Just cries, some muted, some not. Breasts were flushed, areola's stood out, stomachs sucked in.... Nothing feigned about that scene.

The picture became fuzzy for a few seconds. When it sharpened up, the girls were on their feet, still masked, hands to their sides. The chant had begun again.

The woman reappeared. Traversing the line, she stood by the side of the last girl in line, who raised a single leg, ballerina style, and leaned her body over, using a hand for balance. Immediately, the camera focused on her gleaming cunt, whose vaginal lips were full and opened out.

That cock appeared, nuzzled its way into the vagina, and slid home. Slowly, it began to thrust.

Now, wide angle, the man was on girl three. Her body was angled towards the horizontal. She stood balanced on one foot while the woman held her firmly by the ankle and upper thigh of the leg that pointed vertically upwards so her cunt was fully exposed to the cock that plunged in and out of her.

Girls one and two stood as before, except their hands were no longer at their sides. One grasped a breast, the other rubbed a clit.

The chant had ceased. The air was filled with 'Ugh!'s, 'Ooh!'s' along with the slurping sound of cock entering cunt.

Three times the guy went round, pounding more and more vigorously, as the girls pushed back harder and harder, striving for orgasm.

Once more, that proud member, glistening now from the juice of ten cunts, thrice served, was shown off in close up.

Then ten girls, standing awkwardly, their hands hard at work on tits, nipples, pussies, clits........

Now the girls were lying on their backs, their legs splayed out, pussy lips parted. Fingers stroked, caressed, penetrated.....

The camera zoomed in as the cock appeared, poised above a cunt that opened out, waiting, willing. In it went, to the hilt. A gasp, then out and in, serious fucking.

The guy was on girl five, balanced on his hands. His butt rose and fell with mechanical precision. Hers recoiled as the down-thrust drove her into the mat.

Nine pairs of hands in motion. What variety: the sounds a woman makes when she comes.

Three times that massive cock drove each girl's body into the mat, expelling the breath from her body...

Then the display. Proud, still hugely erect, dripping cunt juice and female ejaculate.

When focus returned, the girls were kneeling, masked, hands at their sides. They seemed calm again, but their upper bodies told its tale. The flush of orgasm graced each one. Nothing feigned about that.

A gong sounded. The woman appeared and stood before the two ranks of kneeling girls, her legs apart.

"He has chosen," her voice rang out. "It is Scheherazade!"

The central girl in rank two stood, shakily. She stepped forward. The woman took her by the hand. They disappeared. The remaining nine were still for a while, then removed their masks, formed a line and filed out through a door at the back of the chamber.

The scene faded out. Another faded in. An ante-chamber, whose walls were lined with tapestries. At intervals around the room, alcoves, set back, eight in all, a hexagon. Within each alcove sat a masked figure. A candle set to one side highlighted an erect penis. The camera panned around. Eight erect penises, then swung to a doorway through which Scheherazade was conducted.

The centerpiece of the room was a raised dais, of height between a table and a coffee table. It was covered in soft damask. At one end a pillow. The woman led Scheherazade to the dais, helped her lie on it, arranged her head on the pillow, and spread her legs, adjusting her position so that her groin just overlapped the end of the dais. The woman whispered something in Scheherazade's ear, then her voice rang out,

"Gentlemen! Tonight's special guest, Scheherazade. Treasure and pleasure her as you always do."

The woman disappeared.

The camera focused on the girl's prone body, lingering on her breasts, ripe, not large, not small, but firm and luscious, then down past her wasp waist to her feet, whose toes gripped firmly the edge of the dais, to her thighs, stretched wide, and honing in on full pussy lips opened out like a lotus blossom in full bloom. Within, a sea of soft, moist pink.

The head of a penis appeared, explored the inner walls of those pussy lips, then began to penetrate.....

The camera re-focused, wide angle. The man whose penis had penetrated her was now thrusting hard, panting at the effort. Scheherazade's body jolted on each thrust. Her ribcage sucked in air. She gave out little cries, 'Ooh! Agh! Yes!...'

The man threw back his head. Scheherazade arched her back. They came together. Nothing feigned about that!

When the film resumed, a second man was pounding into the white body on the dais. He was taller. He had to bend his knees slightly. The camera panned to focus on his penis, long and thin, driving in and out of a cunt from which semen had seeped and made a trail down to the floor.

At that very moment, he came, his cock pulsating as his seed was released, in massive spurts.

The camera remained in close-up. Semen welled up into the mouth of the girl's cunt, began to seep out and drip, until penis number three appeared......

Number six was at work. A short, beefy man with a short fat penis. The woman now appeared. She bent over Scheherazade, whispering to her, kissing her, stroking her breasts, as her hands and feet gripped the sides of the dais more firmly, her ribcage contracted and expanded as she gasped for air.

The woman remained there through seven and eight. But left for number nine.

The muscular man with the massive penis displayed this once more for the camera. He stroked Scheherazade's body, now covered in sweat. He knelt and kissed her clit hood, even as, beneath, the semen stream had become a flood.

He entered her slowly and deliberately, stroking her clitoris with his thumb as his penis slid in and out.

The camera panned to a clock, which read 11pm. Then back to the pair, seemingly now alone in the chamber. The slow fuck continued.

The clock read 11.30.

Then it read 12.00.

Still that giant penis slid in and out of Scheherazade's vagina, which now glowed bright red. The semen stains were gone, dispelled. And Scheherazade had recovered. The fuck was so gently, so sensuous, the stroking of her clit so delicate.....

Besides, she was being fucked by Him, by 'The Taipan'.

Gradually, the stroke quickened. The clock read 12.30. It was time.

"Come, come, come with me," she heard, through a fog.

'Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,' her groin said, as with her last resources of energy, she pushed back urgently.

"Aaaarrrrgggghhhhhhhhhh!"

One cry, then He remained still as the massive pool of semen stored in His loins was finally released into that pulsating vagina, which just kept on contracting and expanding, and was still humming when He withdrew.....

Chapter 10: Jane and Rick.

When Jane awoke, she didn't know where she was. Slowly, memory returned. She wished it hadn't.

A glance at the clock. 11am? OhmiGod!

Hurriedly wrapping the bathrobe around her, she staggered unevenly down the stairs.

"Hi," said Rick.

"Er...Hi," Jane said. "Er.. I suppose Pat's left?"

"Yep! She left me to baby sit." His smile robbed the words of any offence.

"You don't have to go to work?"

"Nope! Neither do you. Pat's given you the day off."

"I can't do that. There's loads of work...."

"Hey! The work will get done. Pat's problem. Way we look at it, last night was a night in hell for you. Our fault. We can't dial back the clock, so we do what we can do."

"Well", he continued, "when you've thought it through perhaps you wouldn't want to dial back the clock, however awful it must have been."

"I'd rather not think about last night," Jane said. "If you don't mind."

She had a mild headache. Three martinis would do that.

"Sure. How about some breakfast?"

Jane was about to say she'd better be on her way. But where to? A lonely apartment?

"Thanks," she said. "I'd love some."

"Great. How do you like your eggs?"

"Oh, any which way."

"Any which way it shall be. Why don't you take a shower while I get cooking?"

Jane did.

Over eggs, bacon, sausage and biscuits, they made small talk. Rick was a contractor.

"I only do big stuff. Real big. And I don't have to actually do any real work these days, just make sure the guys aren't messing up."

"Fact is," he continued, "I don't need to do anything if I don't want to."

"Nice situation," Jane replied.

"Yep! And No! Sometimes I miss the old days. But not often," he added, with a winning smile.

Jane found herself warming to him.

"Well, I guess I'd better be off," she said, emptying her coffee cup.

"If you're sure," Rick said.

"Sure about what?"

"That you're all right."

"Oh Yes! I'll be fine."

"No throwing yourself into a swimming pool someplace?"

"Oh, that! No! I was a bit disoriented."

"You had a right to be."

"But I'm fine now. It'll sort itself out."

Jane had only begun to think of the ramifications, specifically that she needed urgently to call Melanie, Susan, Stephanie, Angela...who-all? It was Wednesday. Thursday night was not far off. They had to be warned.

Jane rose to leave, then realized she was covered only by a bathrobe.

"Yes," Rick said. "And I think you may want more than that pink dress!"

"Oh dear," Jane said.

"Pat's left some stuff out for you. Sift through it and see what you can find. If I were you, I'd put that dress straight in the wash. It reeks of sea water."

"Ah! Yes. It would."

Jane left the house dressed in a blouse and skirt, panties underneath but no bra. Pat's were too small for her. But no matter. She was only driving home. Anyway, her breasts were firm. She did not really need a bra.

Then she saw Don's car. What!? It took a while to hit. He'd known where she was?

Jane thought furiously.

Well of course he had. Pat had called him. He'd come round to fetch her. But...? OhmiGod!

"Sorry, Rick," she said, when he answered the door.

"Problem?"

"Well... Maybe. You see, that's not my car parked outside. It's Don's."

"Don's!?"

"Yes. Strange, isn't it?"

Now Rick was thinking, furiously.

"Thing is," Jane continued, "I wanted to ask to use your phone. Mine's in my car. But then I realized I don't know Don's number. I don't know any numbers. They're programmed into my phone, you see. And who remembers numbers when all you have to do is hit a button?"

"Yep! A problem," Rick said, cautiously. Don's number was also programmed into his cell, but Jane did not know this.

Suddenly, horror!

"Ohshit!" She clapped a hand to her mouth.

"What?"

"The video. That damn video. I took it. I was so angry. I left it in my car!"

'Oh Jesus!' Rick breathed, to himself. He thought even more furiously.

"Listen, Jane," he said, eventually, putting a fatherly arm around her shoulder, "Don't worry about this. Don will be at work, right? D'you have a key to his car?"

"Yes!"

"Ok. You drive home, get yourself sorted. I can imagine you'll be wanting to make a few other calls, 'sides Don. I'll deal with Don."

"But how can you?"

"Know what? I haven't the faintest idea. But I'll figure something. Leave it to me."

Rick watched behind the drapes as Jane entered Don's car and drove away. Then he got out his cell and texted:

'don, we gotta talk'

Half an hour later, receiving no reply, he texted:

'don, u hearin me? gotta talk urgent'

Half an hour later, he called the number. To his surprise, Don picked up.

"Fuck off," he said. "And don't contact me again. Got that!"

End of call.

Rick did call again, but Don did not pick up.

OhShit!

Chapter 11: Jane and Don.

When Don arrived home, in Jane's car, he was a bit surprised to find his own car in its usual space. All kinds of scenarios had gone through his mind. She'd stay with Pat and Rick for a while. Or get home, pack her bags and leave. He'd thought of doing it himself, except it was his apartment. He'd have to pay the lease anyway.

Curiously, he had not anticipated this scenario. That he would arrive home, and Jane would be there, as though nothing had happened.

Jane had done some thinking too. Don had left the DVD in a prominent place. He'd seen it, was the message. She half expected him not to appear that evening. She'd toyed with the idea of leaving herself. But that would be cowardice. Jane was no coward. She had not even run away from her parents. They had run away from her.

Jane had thought about what Pat had said the previous evening and it had suddenly made sense to her. It was not that she had been drugged. An atmosphere had been created. She had responded to it. It was not another woman who had responded. It was a side of herself she had all these years suppressed.

She thought too of Don, and realized how he had been trying for months to spice up their sex life. She had repulsed him because nice girls don't do that. Her goddamn mother! And Don had been too much the gentleman to press.

Not expecting Don to appear, Jane was nevertheless ready.

When Don let himself into the apartment and strode into the living room ready to let fly, his eyes latched immediately onto a figure at the far end of the room. Her name was Jane, she was his partner, and she was stark naked.

He tried, but the so carefully rehearsed phrases froze on his tongue. She moved slowly towards him.

"I..I...I... You...you...you..."

She placed a finger over her lips, came closer, ever so close, pressed her body against his, and reached down to stroke the swelling in his pants.

One minute later, Don was lying back on the couch, himself naked, his member teased by Jane's tongue, her soft lips. Effortlessly, she slid her mouth over his cock and began to suck.

She took him, in slow but steady stages, all the way, sucking the juice out of him, then allowing it to spill down his shaft in streams. She kept going until he was drained, and even then she pushed down so the full length of his softening cock was in her mouth. She did not stop until he was small.

Then, with a wicked smile, she sat beside him, spread first her legs, then her pussy lips. Which red-blooded male could resist?

So began an evening of sucking and fucking, fondling, stroking, then sucking and fucking again, him on top, her on top, sideways, doggie, Yes!, even ballerina. She'd placed a foot on the top of the door, and hung on as he lost control of his thrusts.

Eventually, they came up for air.

"I believe," Don sighed, "that you have some explaining to do."

"Oooh! Spoil sport. You mean this kind of explaining?"

Don groaned as her lips closed yet again around his aching dick.......

Chapter 12: Jane and Don and Pat and Rick.

It had all come out. Neither had pulled any punches. They told it like it was. because that's the way it should be between soul mates.

"Pat and Rick don't come out of this looking too good," Don had said.

"Depends how you see it."

"Oh! So how do you see it?"

"Well on the one hand, I agree with you. They encouraged you to go behind my back, and they tried to blackmail me into doing the same. On the other hand, if it hadn't been for them, I may still be doing Thursday nights with 'The Movement', and you may still be trying to prize your butterfly out of its cocoon."

"Hmmm!" Don said, doubtfully.

"I know," Jane said, suddenly. "How would it be if we arranged a little dinner party? Token of appreciation?"

"Hi, c'mon in."

Jane answered the door. She was naked.

Rick's eyes near popped out of his head.

"Why mess around?" Jane said innocently. "Actually, we've already started. Aperitif perhaps? Dinner will be a while. Damn caterers!"

"Why not make yourselves comfortable?" she said over her shoulder as she led the way into the living room, where Don waited, also naked, his cock stiff and throbbing.

Rick looked at Pat and Pat looked at Rick. They shrugged, then stripped in the hallway. Pat was justly proud of her body. It was, she liked to think, worthy of a 23 year old.

Well, maybe not all 23 year olds!

"Martini, perhaps?"

Don's cock bobbed as he crossed to the bar.

He held up a bottle of ice cold vodka, one of vermouth and a glass of olives.

Two heads nodded in unison. Pat could not keep her eyes off Don's cock. Rick's eyes fed greedily on Jane's succulent body. But his cock refused to obey the signal from his optic nerve.

"You like it dry, if I recall."

While Don fixed the drinks, Jane fetched the playing cards.

"House rules," she said. "I know you use a roulette wheel. We prefer the cards. High card wins, one hour. Ok with you guys?"

Two heads nodded in unison. Hands grasped absently at the martinis. Don used large tumblers.

"Might as well," he said. "There's an ice bucket over there, in case you need a cube or two. Anyway, the rate you two chuck it down....?"

"Who draws first?" Jane said, kneeling by the side table, on which she'd placed the cards. "I think, guests first. What d'you say, Don?"

"Absolutely. Guests first."

Pat drew a Queen, Rick a trey, Don a deuce, but Jane won with a King.

"Ha!" she said, clapping her hands. She crossed to the sofa, which had a stowaway compartment, and reached out a comforter. This she laid on the coffee table.

"OK. Rick, you on the table, on your back, legs dangling. Pat, give him head. Make it last the full hour. Tease the hell out of him."

Pay eyed her in wonderment. This was Jane?

"Go on, get going. Clock starts when he's in your head."

"What are you two going to do?" Pat said, as Rick eased his way into position. Five minutes ogling Jane's body had still generated no noticeable reaction in his dick. It was too sudden. The signals went down there, but not much was happening.

"We'll watch," Jane said. "And play with each other a bit. We like to start out slow."

Jane sat on the sofa next to Don, reached out a hand and began to fondle his cock. Beside her was a 'martini', one tenth vodka, one tenth vermouth and four fifths water!

Don's hand reached between her thighs, which opened.

"Going to be a great evening," he said, settling back.

Pat bent forward. An hour was a long time. She'd have to take it easy. But, Rick liked being teased, she liked teasing him. So they had an audience? What the hell. That was the point, was it not?

"He's taking a while," Jane said, sipping her drink. She dug her nails into the underside of Don's cock, at the base, and dragged upwards.

"Oh, that's nice," Don sighed. "Keep doing it."

"Oooh! Do that some more," Jane said, as Don fingered the sensitive skin just beneath her clit.

Rick was 'taking a while'. He was decidedly not in the mood. He'd not wanted to accept the invitation.

"Why not?" Pat had said. "It's what we wanted, isn't it? A genuine foursome? Worked out fine with Don, you and me."

"It's a premonition," Rick has said. "I don't think a foursome will work, not with those two."

"Whyever not?"

Rick gave no reason. That's the nature of premonitions. But he had a reason, even if this was subconscious. History. Rick was truly ashamed of what he and Pat had done to Jane. The stench of seawater from the pink dress was still in his nostrils. Jane had not said how that had come about, but one did not have to be Einstein to guess – what might have been. Unbeknown to her, similar feelings resided deep in Pat's subconscious.

Guilt. The ultimate anti-aphrodisiac.