Lois's Letters

The three of us started moaning softly as our pleasure increased, and our movements became quicker and less controlled. There was a camera flash, then a few more, I think. I'd lost track of Joel since I was on my way to an orgasm. I was pumping up and down on my own now, gripping my breasts and twisting my hard nipples with one hand. They felt as if they were shooting sparks off their corky tips. With my other hand I was rubbing my engorged clit. Deuce was feeling my pussy from behind me as it enveloped his cock, and two fingers on his other hand were in my rectum, which he'd loosened up with my lube.

I was really excited, Tom. I'd never been with two men together before, and the sheer idea of it was driving me insane. I looked up into Ace's eyes and was met with a look as mad with desire as my own. He and I were close...very close. Then I exploded in a climax. I threw back my head and shrieked, grabbing my tits to prolong their zapping, throbbing bolts of electricity, and he yelled as my lips left his cock. He fisted it quickly and pointed it at me, shooting a long arc of cum that streaked my face, from my hair across one eyebrow to my jaw. I quickly opened my mouth to receive a couple of strings onto my tongue, then he pulled from me to spray ribbon after ribbon onto me, covering my face down to my nipples. He'd cum like a horse. I'd never before seen so much jizz from a single male orgasm, and at the end I was still pulling on his dick for the last few drops. Joel got several pictures, which I'm attaching to this letter.

The downside was that Deuce, that sweet boy underneath me whose cock had shown me so much joy, hadn't cum! He said as much, gasping as his friend and I twitched our last spasms against one another. As always, these guys were up for a laugh, though. Ace said, "If at first you don't succeed, what do you do, Mr. Deuce?"

"Try, try again, Mr. Ace," said Deuce, who shifted, pulling his hot rod from me to tickle my lubricated anus with it. In a moment my colon was stuffed full of his flesh, and I was laying back on his powerful frame, with my legs spread open for his friend.

I whined expectantly in my throat as Ace straddled us both on the low bench, once again offering his dick to my mouth, which I gobbled with pleasure. I knew it was up to me to get him hard again, so we could all three have the "Lois burger" they'd mentioned in the bar. By this time the inside of the van reeked with the stink of sweat, my fishy odors, and the pungent bouquet of fresh male cum.

I was in heaven as his half-hard dick slid into my throat. Minutes later, though, it had regained its majestic length and he slid into my cunt, sandwiching me against his friend. The cum on my breasts squished between us and we were slippery. The gooey sounds that the guys' dicks made in me drove me absolutely crackers! I looked in the mirror and watched as cum I'd taken earlier in the day from other men, mixed with my fresh juices, squeezed out around Ace's cock and ran down my crack onto Deuce's balls. I slid forward and backward between them a thousand times until my vagina started contracting inside. God help me, Tom, I just fucked and fucked nonstop until I'd climaxed I don't know how many times, spasming around them, milking them, desperately trying to squeeze their cum from them. And my two lovers were extraordinarily good, gentle, and caring.

Our session ended with me on the mattress, with my miniskirt up around my waist, soaked with semen. It was difficult for me to say goodbye to them.

I'm tired now, just thinking about it. But I'm not sorry. I'll tell you in another letter about the guy I later gave a ride to, but not now. I'd had such great fun indulging myself on the Fourth. Unfortunately, the rest of my holiday story is rather painful.

I so look forward to hearing your reaction to this...and the pictures.

With love,

Lois

* * * * * *

Dear Tom,

Your last e-mail was so cryptic that my feelings are hurt. I know you're busy, but I wish you'd tell me what's on your mind. Aside from small talk, your note just said, "More snapshots! I'll explain later! I need more pictures!"

My question is, why? Until you tell me – forgive me – I'm not going to send any more photos. Besides, I had a dicey sexual experience that ended my otherwise great Fourth of July holiday and I don't want you to see the last pictures that were taken. Iwill tell you what happened, though, to see how you react. Maybe then you'll know why I'm being so guarded.

I did my best to clean up in the parking lot bathroom on that floor, combing cum out of my hair and wiping it off my face and body. The john was filthy and there was no toilet paper or towels, not even one of those cotton ones on a roller, so I just splashed water on my face and crotch and hoped they'd dry from the air. I drove around the corner – out of the lot – and saw a uniformed soldier with one arm in a sling, thumbing a ride. After I picked him up he told me he was staying with some student friends and was an outpatient at the hospital where I volunteer. My intention, given my sexually active day, was just to give him a lift home. I should have known better but – as always – I'm naïve and trusting.

Anyway, he said he'd broken his arm the last week he'd been in Iraq, falling off a Bradley Fighting Vehicle. He said he lived in Idaho but had been routed through Walter Reed on the east coast, through our hospital for final check-ups. He was a big guy with a country accent – looking like a typical American boy raised on junk food – and must have weighed about 250 pounds on a 6'4" frame. He noticed my digital camera on the console and asked if he could take a picture of me. Well, I didn't look in the best of shape, but I let him. He looked through the view finder and asked me if I'd send him a copy to his e-mail address, which he said he'd give me later. I agreed.

As we drove he finally asked if I had a dog. I said no, and asked him why. "Because it smells like a breedin' kennel in here," he quipped, looking in the back of the van at the bench, mattress, mirror, and mechanical devices that held wheelchairs. I countered by lying, saying I'd just given a ride to several sweaty soccer players. That didn't seem to satisfy his curiosity, and it made me nervous when he asked me if I'd played soccer with them too. I told him no and inquired as to why. Because my hair was wet, he said, and it looked as if I were perspiring. I looked down to see where his eyes were focused and saw a couple of rivulets of clear goo running down my left calf from my damp thigh. I'd splashed my pussy with water when I'd tried unsuccessfully to clean myself earlier. Worse yet, I'd been so preoccupied with getting cum off my crotch that I'd forgotten to urinate, and my nervousness was now increasing pressure on my bladder, which felt about to burst. I told him I needed to stop to pee, but he assured me we were close to his friends' place and that I could use their bathroom.

When we arrived I kicked off my shoes and hurried to the front door of the rundown bungalow, with him following close behind. Entering, he announced, "Lady in the house, guys, look sharp!" and pointed me in the direction of the john. The place was empty of furniture, except for a lone, dirty mattress on the floor of the living room, a desktop computer, and a few cardboard cartons, which a young, college-age kid in shorts and a tee shirt was packing.

At least these guys had toilet paper and a roll of paper towels in the bathroom! I couldn't believe the amount of cum that was still inside me from earlier in the day, and I would've killed for a douche. But, I was anxious to get home and take a nice, long, hot shower...maybe even a bath.

Back in the living room I introduced myself as Lois. Both my hitchhiker and his college kid friend acknowledged me with only the soldier giving his name, which was Sy. I looked around and he told me that his friends were moving out – they were already four days late in doing so – and that they'd be back soon after unloading their moving truck at their new place. His buddy began to dismantle the desktop computer in the corner. A word from Sy stopped him, with the admonition that he still wanted to use it before it was moved.

I started to leave but was stopped by Sy, asking me if I wanted a beer or something. I declined, yet – fool that I am – offered to share the rest of the sandwiches I'd prepared for the day. Both of the guys leapt at the offer and the kid went to my van to bring in the basket. He also brought in the rest of my beer, accompanied by his three college-age roommates, who had apparently just returned from unloading stuff at their new place. Someone turned on the computer and rock music immediately filled the room.

The sandwiches and beer were gone in a heartbeat, and I was ready to leave. I started to slip out with my basket and Sy snapped a picture of me...with my camera! He'd also stripped down to a tee shirt and his khaki pants. It was then that I realized his arm wasn't broken or otherwise disabled at all! This whole cutesy situation reminded me so much of college frat parties I'd been to years ago, Tom, that I was totally disgusted. I finally raised my voice and demanded that he give me my camera. The whole room turned silent...even the music that'd been playing was suddenly turned down. The kid who'd brought in the sandwiches and beer also made a big thing of giving Sy my tube of lubricant, which he'd obviously found in the back of the van.

"Whoa," said Sy.

Whoa? I thought, as I tried to grab the tube of jelly from him. I'd always thought (given the educated snob that I am) that "Whoa" was the sound of a barely post-Neanderthal male eliciting surprise. Angry now, I demanded that he return my camera and lube.

I was right about the Neanderthal part, I discovered, as the slap across the face that he gave me nearly knocked me to my knees. As I shook my head, trying to get my bearings, someone switched the music back on and Sy grabbed me by the forearm, dragging me to my feet, while pinning my other arm behind me at the small of my back. He dug a hand between my legs, bruising my labia as he groped brutally for my vagina. I'll never forget his words: "Look, no panties, dudes! An' she was still drippin' cum when I ran into her!" Held in the air by his two strong arms, with my legs dangling like those of a marionette, he carried me to the bare mattress and dumped me on my ass.

All of the pent-up anger against swaggering bullies poured out of me in thirty seconds, Tom. I screamed at him, calling him a pig, a liar and a fake for impersonating a disabled war veteran. He just looked down arrogantly and shook his head, all the while he was unzipping his pants and slipping them off. As he dropped his drawers his four companions yelled encouragement when his meaty cock flopped out from his loins. Then he reached down – at first I thought to offer me a hand so I could get up off the mattress – and grasped my top at the neck to rip it open. My 36C tits bobbed out, their nipples stiffening, and the whistles and shouts in the room upped the sexual atmosphere to match the testosterone level. Sy's narrow-set, beady eyes gleamed as he stood over me and mumbled something about my skirt.

"Git 'er skirt, dudes," he commanded, and two guys pushed me to my back and stripped me naked. One of them pointed out the semen tracks on my breasts that I'd collected earlier from Ace and Deuce, and they all giggled. Another of them turned the music even higher. At that moment I knew what was going to happen and – looking at the filthy mattress laced with old pecker tracks – I saw with bone-chilling clarity that this bunch had been down this road before.

The next thing I knew, Sy's cock was in my mouth and he was fucking my face. The other four guys were all naked as well, pinching, pulling and poking at me while they barked at one another as to how each of them wanted to take me. My hands became full of stiffening cocks as I fought for breath around the huge meat of Sy, the alpha male of the group. And for some reason I complied with his thrusts, even as angry as I was. When Sy knelt on his knees, I dropped to all fours – releasing the cocks in my hands to the groans of two guys – and continued taking his thick dick into my throat; not only taking it, but moving my head back and forth rhythmically. And, when another guy knelt behind me and stirred his rampant prick into my gooey pussy, I spread my knees and arched my back more so that he'd have better leverage to drill into me even deeper. I was now being plugged at either end, rocking between two rapacious, well-endowed males, and getting a sick thrill from it. This may have started out as a gang rape, Tom, but in a couple of minutes I was as into it as any of these rosy-cheeked young college boys. I didn't just let it happen. I was going to show all of these white bread wusses how areal woman could fuck!

"Gimme the lube!" I recollect hearing through my hazy reverie. Then I felt some of the cold ointment on my rectum, shocking me enough to open my eyes. At that point Sy groaned, then shouted, gripping my head with both hands as he pumped shot after shot of thick cum into my mouth. I swallowed much of it and pulled off of him to hammer myself back onto the guy doing me resolutely from behind. Sy followed me, spewing his spunk from my hairline to my chin as he gasped to complete his orgasm. "Pictures!" someone shouted, and my camera flash began popping. "Aaangh...cumming!" yelled the guy behind me as I felt his steely cock jump several times and his hot liquid pour into me. I leaned forward to disengage and reached back to pull my butt cheeks apart, as his spasming barb bathed my ass with strings of clear semen. The room filled with catcalls and whistles and I actually gave them all a quick smile of triumph, which was snapped by the camera.

But the party had just begun, Tom. At Sy's direction, a young blond youth laid on his back with a handsome erection – already slick with my lube – which I was helped to straddle and take slowly into my ass. As I was pulled back onto the kid's chest, another eager beaver leapt between my thighs, which had been drawn back so that my knees were on a line with my armpits. He gored me to my cervix, painfully, and I turned my cum-drenched face to one side, gritting my teeth from the assault. For some reason, though, I wasn't going to let them know they were causing me any discomfort or insult. I would beat them, I thought, until yet another guy pinched my nose closed, forcing me to breathe through my mouth.

"Snake!...Snake!...Snake!...Snake!" they chanted, as this dude plied my open lips with the largest cock I'd ever seen. As the bulbous crown passed over my tongue I thought I'd just ingested a tennis ball. I was afraid that the corners of my mouth would crack and tear from his gigantic girth. All I could do was lick at him from inside and – out of desperation – jack him off with both of my hands, which I continued doing. All this occurred while the other two eager beavers humped away at my nether holes, with Sy taking the odd pornographic snapshot.

Thank God this "Snake" freak was short of stamina, or perhaps it was because he seldom could find a woman to accommodate him. But after a couple of minutes he came in my mouth, which was stretched so widely open that I couldn't swallow properly, so that his torrent of cum just poured down my throat. I hacked and choked as it invaded my windpipe and he withdrew, thankfully, to finish by spraying his load onto my face and breasts. I continued choking and hacking, causing my internal muscles to spasm, which started an orgasmic chain reaction on the part of the guys embedded in my pussy and ass. They yelled like wounded animals as they unloaded inside me, also bringing to a climax a sympathetic buddy of theirs who was vigorously jerking off over one of my shoulders. As he spewed his spunk onto my face and hair, the ever-patient Sy continued snapping pictures of the cum bath with my camera.

I don't know how long they fucked me, nor how many times. Somewhere in my faded memory I remember Sy saying that each guy should have a shot at each hole, which would make fifteen loads that I absorbed. As late afternoon passed into evening they stopped and finished packing the few boxes that still needed to be moved. They also downloaded the contents of my camera into their computer as I lay covered with a sheen of spunk on the filthy mattress which they left behind. I awoke from a nap in the empty house, exhausted. The camera, plus the empty tube of my lube with its last stream dribbling from it, lay next to me. Much the wiser, I put on my destroyed clothes and drove home.

Please write when you can, Tom. I've taken some time off to reassess my life and need to hear from you.

Yours,

Lois

* * * * * *

Dearest Tom,

Forgive me, please, for being such a fool, such a self-absorbed neurotic, such a foul-mouthed whore. Forgive me for sending all those photos of me with other men, feeling proud that I could finally impress you with my sexual experience...my arrogant, unthinking carnal worldliness. Forgive me for not questioning why you wanted to see me changed after college, "all grown up" and actually physically attractive. And forgive me for the most obvious – ignoring the reasons you wanted to see me fucking handicapped men.

I got your last note and picture...the one of you in a wheelchair. I cried for hours after receiving it and, since I've taken an extended vacation since the Fourth, have decided that I'm coming to see you. I have weeks of leave time accrued and there's nothing holding me here that is as important as being with you. Besides, our HMO has a major facility a half hour away from you and – if things work out – I can always apply for a preferential transfer of employment.

I had no idea you'd been in Baghdad. You, of course, are the perennial stoic and didn't tell me about that little piece of shrapnel that sneaked under your helmet and lodged next to your brain stem, causing those terrible tremors and disrupting your balance.

I'm going to help you, Tommy, through the next many weeks that you prepare for your brain surgery (aThalamotomy?). Consider me your private secretary, taking dictation for your columns, your cook, housekeeper, etc. I'll even edit your porno novel. Also (since you made it quite clear that your wound hasn't affected your sex drive), I'll be your lover if you'll have me. I'm disease-free, surprisingly, and I hope you'll find that I'm pretty imaginative given my late matriculation in the arts of love.

I'm putting all my stuff in storage up here and loading my van only with essentials: closet contents, a computer, digital camera and my sex toys. Though from what you've told me I won't need them.

In a few days I'll see you. You have my cell phone number and I have yours, so please expect to hear from me as I get nearer to you.

All my love,

Lois,

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Lois would love it if you gave her letters a vote. If you have constructive feedback, I'd like to hear it.