Big Orange

Heather certainly had a way of making a convincing argument and getting back on task!

And so Josh stood up to reveal that he was, in fact, flaccid. Yet, with Heather sucking and slurping like a pro on his average-size cock and wanking it expertly while nibbling and tickling his balls for good measure, he was fully erect in no time. No doubt about it, it was plain to see that the girl could give head with the best of them.

Interestingly, she never let go of Big Orange the whole time.

Looking up at him with those big, sky-blue eyes, she said, "Josh, honey, I'd like you to do something, OK? I'm going to get on top of you in a 69 and keep sucking you as you lick my love button from below like you do so well, and then I want you to fuck me at the same time with this carrot, just like you do with your prick, slow at first, then faster and faster. Wait for me to cum first, then squirt in my mouth. I promise to swallow every drop. Sound good?"

"Sounds kinda kinky, Heather," he said, stating the obvious.

"You mean poking me with a vegetable or drinking your sperm?" she quipped.

I was liking this Heather girl more and more.

This time they lay down crosswise on the blanket so that I had a beeline view of her bottom. For the first time, I could see her lily-white butt, and it was so very fine—compact, taught, muscular, and smooth.

And so they got right down to business as she suggested. I couldn't see her face or his crotch, of course, but when she'd deep throat him every once and a while, I could see her boobs squish out to the sides of his hips into view—very alluring, indeed.

But the most amazing thing was what her pussy looked like in this position. Even though it was sopping wet, it was quite obviously extremely tight, as every time he thrust the thick tuber in, her pussy lips would completely disappear inside. Then, as he withdrew it, her labia would reappear and hug the carrot so tightly that it actually pulled out the walls of her vagina a good inch or more. Amazing!

Flicking her nubbin with his tongue as he did this, he, of course, had an even closer and better perspective, and from the look on his face, was enjoying the hell out of it.

As before, with such light skin, it was easy to tell when she came, for she'd flush red, shudder, and then get goose pimples all over. With his dick in her mouth, there was no sound this time—from her, that is. As soon as she orgasmed, he spewed and let out a holler I was afraid would wake my wife. As promised, Heather drank every drop of his jizz.

I heard a couple of the guy friends beyond say, "Josh came," and a girl's voice enthusiastically assert, "Our turn!"

I got the best look at Heather when they got dressed, as they were in no hurry then. To me, the best way to take in a woman is when she is standing, and she turned all the way around several times so that I could ogle her goodies 360 degrees. A ten, a perfect ten. His cock would not fully deflate—completely understandable after that fantastic blow job—and I got a real kick out of him having trouble stuffing it down into his jeans.

Now dressed, she put her arms around him to initiate a kiss, but at the last moment, he turned his head aside.

"What's the matter, Josh?"

"It's just that, well, you know, I just came in your mouth," he fumbled.

"And my vagina juice is still all over your face and mouth, too, so what's the big deal? I mean, I think there's plenty of guys around here who'd be glad to kiss me after I sucked them dry. How many girls do you know who'll let you cum in their mouth, much less swallow?"

Heather was clearly in charge of this relationship, and to make her point, she then laid a long, sloppy French kiss on him. If it bothered him, he sure didn't let it show, but I noticed he was quick to slam down a Budweiser right afterwards.

They made their way back to the others. Waving Big Orange around like the curiosity it was, she announced, "Hey, y'all, look what we found! "

They all cracked open beers and lit up smokes as they discussed with blunt frankness the "ins and outs" of the newfound organic personal sexual stimulation device. Shortly, one couple zig-zagged back through the trees in my direction, obviously en route to the sexual activity spot. Despite that the slightly plump brunette clutching Big Orange was attractive and had huge boobs, I'd been outside in the forty-something-degree air in my pajamas for over an hour, was shivering, and had to go in.

But I couldn't make a move until they got "distracted," so I stayed just long enough to ogle those enormous melons with dark, wide areolas tumble out when she removed the white industrial-strength brassier and drop the granny-panties so the dude could finger her too-hairy-to-see-anything pussy before creeping back inside my house.

I woke my wife up by sticking my raging hard cock in her. No matter what time of the day or night, she was always up for sex. Of course, I never told her why I was so suddenly horny at 2:00 AM or that I was fantasizing in the dark that she was the cheerleader. What possible good could come from that?

The next day, I went back there and, as usual, picked up the empty beer cans. As attached as ever to Big Orange, I was worried that it would be gone but was pleasantly surprised—astonished, really—that it had been hung on the fishing line right back in the tree hollow where I'd put it!

That was an extremely good sign, for the only possible explanation was that the teens wanted to keep it for future use.

Well, you know exactly where I was the following weekend. In fact, I voyeured those seniors from the top of the playhouse practically every single weekend. Turns out, there were five different couples--and only those five and no one else--who were the regulars. Sometimes, they'd all be there, but most of the time, like that first night, just two or three, occasionally only one.

I learned all the teens names and more than a little about each one. All five of the girls were good looking, with heavenly Heather at the top of the class and the big-boobed, a-bit-heavy Brenda described above bringing up the rear. The dudes were all decent-looking, too, but in every case, it was the girl in the pair who was clearly the dominant one.

I so looked forward to the weekly "entertainment" and was extremely disappointed on the rare occasion when no one showed up. The amazing thing was how Big Orange held up. It never gets real frigid in that part of Texas, but according to locals, it was a particularly cold and damp winter, so I suppose the refrigerator-like temperature and humidity was the reason it lasted so long.

It belatedly occurred to me that had I put a rubber on Big Orange BEFORE I ever stuck it in my wife's ass, re-sheathed it with a fresh one every time thereafter, and then kept it in my old dorm-room-size mini-fridge I'd completely forgotten I still had, I could have plugged it in the garage where no one could have accidentally found it and still be using it on my wife's orifices. But, of course, had I done that, I would have never discovered the weekly sex show. Tradeoffs, life is full of tradeoffs.

But, as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. By early March, the builder had laid a foundation on that lot behind me and cleared out a lot of the trees, although the big hollow one housing the big carrot remained. The teens kept returning, though, until the framing was complete. And then, they never came back, and Big Orange disappeared. The irony is that, rather than running them off, it became the main attraction.

I can only guess what happened to it. Maybe Heather took it home. More likely, she ditched Josh AND Big Orange for a guy with a cock even bigger, for this was Texas, where bigger is better, and where meat invariably wins out over vegetables.