Cheerful, Loose, and Loaded

The nearest long table without snacks and drinks on it—a tabletop I might like to be lashed to, Millicent thought— was right near the one Crystal and Clem had been on. Millicent went there, with the small swarm of horny boys close to her, and she couldn't quite believe her eyes. This part of the room was ground zero, to be sure, and sex had broken out all around. Clem, still naked from head to toe, his brown skin shining with sweat, was still giving Tamisha a good hard fucking from behind, her bent over posture letting her big, jello-like ass quake and quiver in a quite extraordinary way. Frank and Frank Jr.'s administrative assistant, Helen Winkler, was giving the plant's electrician—a nice young man everyone called 'Sparky'—a wildly enthusiastic, drooling blowjob. With her dress unzipped and open at the top, her bra discarded in a lacy heap on the floor, her hands squeezed her soft breasts tightly as she drooled and moaned, sucking cock as well as any true and horny whore had ever done.

Others were half undressed, women in their underwear, men with cocks out, women enjoying them with hands and mouths. But it was Crystal who was again the centerpiece, her hot young body fully naked now, stockings gone. On her back she lay, newly positioned there, with the prototype Deep Thrust Nine fuck machine whirring but barely thrusting as she tried to figure out the control box.

"Carmine," she called loudly, not knowing if he was near. "Come and show me how to use this thing."

A crowd had gathered around her, mostly men. "It's just stabbing me," she complained.

"Maybe you gotta shut it off first and kinda...get it in you," one of the younger men suggested. The older men just stood there, tongue-tied, staring at Crystal's body, a mystical treasure they never thought they'd see.

"Good idea," Crystal said. "You two, hold my legs," she said, pulling her knees toward her shoulders to open her pussy wide. "Oh, Carmine, where the fuck have you been? How the fuck do I do this?"

"You got three controls," Carmine said. "Forward stroke, length of stroke, and speed. Set 'em all to zero, and then ease up your forward stroke and your speed. Once you get penetration, turn up forward stroke a little at a time, and it'll thrust farther and farther into you. Once it's as deep as you want, leave that setting alone and adjust length of stroke to get a full-length fucking. Adjust your speed after that."

"Christ, I need to go to college to run the thing," Crystal said.

"My wife says that after you do it once, you're golden," Carmine said. "Don't forget it's a full nine incher, so if it starts punching your cervix just hit the red button to shut the whole thing down. When you do that it retracts nice and slow and goes into standby mode."

"Sorry, guys," Crystal said to all her admirers. "That was about the least sexy few minutes in the fuckin' world."

It wasn't just men watching, there were women spectators, too. They were curious about the machine, dreaming about taking one home for beta testing, worried that their men at home might balk at such 'research'. And of course, just like the watching men, the women were fascinated by Crystal, but differently, some of the shier women wondering how on earth the girl could do what she was doing, on a ballroom table, surrounded by the eyes of co-workers.

"Ohhh fffffuuck that feels good," Crystal said, adjusting the dials on the machine as the newly contoured tip of the Quad Nine slowly powered its way into her. "Clem made me cum so hard, this things gonna fuckin' blow my head off." She looked around at the smoldering hunger in the eyes of so many of the men. "Holy fuck this thing is good," she said, her voice already breathy and strained from the huge cock thrusting its way to the orgasmic core deep inside her. "When this thing gets rockin' I want hands on me...Ohhh!...and I want...Ohhhh!...somebody to tickle my asshole...Ohhhhh!...and somebody to...Ohhh fffffuuck!...Somebody lick my fuckin' cliiiiit!"

And just like that, she was gone, so easily, lost in the pre-orgasmic ether. With eyes rolling, her hand turned the dials on the controller, just willy-nilly, the machine whirring, fucking her deep and steady, with a relentless power that Crystal already sensed was as addicting as a good drug. Hands were on her, and mouths, and after the best minute of her life she came as hard as a girl can cum, with a wildly rushing intensity, groaning a moan into the computer technician's kissing mouth, so guttural that everyone touching her could feel her vibrate.

Nearby, bent at the waist, holding onto a table to steady herself, Winnie Spurl was quietly asking for more. "Deeper, baby," she hissed through gritted teeth. "Give me all of it!" She'd worn a dress for tonight's party, not her usual attire, and at this champagne-fueled moment the hem of it was flipped up onto her waist, her white panties down to her knees, and Tyrell from the Material Handling department was just starting in on a quick thrusting fucking that took her breath away. "Oh, yeah!" she huffed. "Yeah! "

Right next to Winnie, in the same bent-over pose, was her good friend and daily work partner Adele, a fun-loving beer drinker who loves the casinos. Her dress lay in a wad on the table, her bra unhooked, hanging loose from her shoulders. Just like Winnie, her pushed down panties stayed at her knees, these a blue pair, stretched tight between her somewhat spread legs. Tyrell's work partner, Busta Jones, had her by the voluptuous flesh of her hips, holding tight as his cock worked its way into her depths. "Ohh, fffuck," she cried, begging, "Fuck me, Busta!...Fuck me!"

Winnie and Adele had long enjoyed flirting with Tyrell and Busta, their jobs bringing them together on the factory floor at least a few times every day. It was always a fun game, the two older white women teasing the two handsome young black men, and often vice versa. They'd cooled it a little right after the sexual harassment seminar, but just a few days later they were right back at it. It's difficult, after all, for fun-loving women to refrain from making sexy jokes when they've got hot-from-the-molds giant black dildos in their hands.

And so, at this unexpected orgy, fate was having its way. "God you've got a big cock!" Winnie exclaimed, feeling it so deep inside her. "I fuckin knew it," she said, looking back over her shoulder at Tyrell. "Didn't I know it?"

"You knew it," Tyrell said, smirking, fucking Winnie smoothly and deeply, like a porn star. "And I knew this pussy'd feel good, too."

"Yeah you did," said Winnie. Then she breathed out a deep moan, let her head drop between her outstretched arms, and let Tyrell have his way.

Adele moaned deeply, too, with an orgasm slowly rising, but it wasn't just Busta's crazy-hard cock making it happen. A woman named Fátima was there, unexpectedly frisky, playing at this orgy thing like she knew the way. Down on her knees, stripped to her bra and thong panties, she fondled and mouthed Adele's especially nice tits as they hung and swung, and Adele, who up until this moment had only dreamt of a threeway, was loving it.

A naked young man named Alonso, caught up in the spontaneity of the moment, dropped to his knees and caressed Fátima's thong-naked ass, hoping for more.

"Nuh-uh, that's for girls only," Fátima told him.

"Fátima! You?" Alonso said.

"What, you didn't know I was gay? I guess I turn it off when I'm at work. Damn, Alonso, you got a big fuckin' cock!"

"Yeah, I guess. So...you wanna touch it?"

"No," Fátima chuckled. "I told you, girls only. If you really wanna do somethin' for me, spread the word among these ladies, all right? I'm fuckin' horny as shit. It doesn't matter if they're gay, but I'm hoping some of 'em are at least a little curious, you know what I'm saying?"

"What about me?" Adele said, the hard thrusts into her pussy and against her ass making it hard to talk. Between huffing grunts she said "Fuck yeah!" to Busta, and "I'm kinda curious" to Fátima.

Fátima's eyes lit up, and she went right back to tit fondling and nipple nibbling, with her body positioned in a way that made Alonso want to fuck her. He didn't, instead wandering off, with his surprisingly big cock hard. It was only a few seconds before a wide-eyed woman from the shipping department saw him, saw it, and they were off to the deep-fucking races. It was easy to launch into, seeing as how she was already naked from the bra down, having just surprised herself by stripping off her dress and panties and giving a Standard Six Tri-Layer Dildo demonstration with three shy, still-clothed men watching. The dildo, and the insanity of the experience, hadn't quite got her there, but she was very well primed, and Alonso's real live eight inches made her cum easily, like never before. It was the eyes on her, and the watching, and the showing, that fueled her fully spastic orgasm.

As Frank looked around at the way the party had morphed into a wild orgy, he began to worry about a waiter or waitress entering to check on the hor d'oeuvres and the champagne supply. If word got out about the party, the many married employees in attendance might end up in serious trouble at home. So he walked out of the ballroom through the big swinging double doors, and he went in search of his friend Larry, the owner of the venue, Hinkenbatter's Pub-Clambake-Wedding.

Frank had known Larry for years. Their two businesses occupied quite a bit of acreage right across the road from each other. Frank's daughter's wedding reception was held at Hinkenbatter's, she dancing barefoot on the soft carpet in the very ballroom where tonight's party was spinning toward nirvana.

Frank found Larry in the nearly empty pub, sitting at the end of the bar, checking over his next week's liquor order.

"Hey, Larry, do you think you could pipe some music in there for us?"

"Sure, Frank. Sure."

"And maybe even turn it up kind of loud. We're...all done with the talking."

"Sure. Sure. What kind you want?"

"Oh, you know me, Larry. If I'm choosing I'll go for Bing, Dean, Sinatra, Mel Torme."

"The Velvet Fog. He was the best, wasn't he? Sure, Frank, I'll switch it on right now, I've got a channel with just that sort of thing. Your people will be dancing in the aisles. Anything else I can get for you? Those cases of champagne we got for you are already in there on ice, so..."

"No, that's all fine," Frank said. "Boy, that's good stuff. Got a real kick to it."

"For five-hundred a bottle it oughta, am I right?" Larry chuckled.

Frank gently took Larry's arm and walked him out of the barely busy pub, toward Larry's office. There, standing in the quiet hallway, he told Larry the rest of the story.

"Jesus, a real-life orgy?" Larry said. "I guess if you make sex toys day in day out..."

"Remember I told you we had a record year financially?" Frank said. "Well, I wanted to share the love, so I gave every one of them a fifty-thousand dollar bonus tonight, and between that and the champagne, I guess it made them want to celebrate. I'm just going with the flow."

"That's because you're such a nice guy, Frank. I like to think I'd do the same."

A smirk lit up Frank's face. "Yeah, you would, wouldn't you. If only to see Katia going at it."

Larry looked over his shoulder at the view Frank had of this newest bartender, a young, slender Russian woman with bottle-blonde ultra-modern hair, a bikini model's ass, and perky tits never sullied by a bra under her skin-tight tanktops. "You know me too well, Frank," Larry said, himself smirking. "What about that Crystal girl at your front desk. Don't tell me she's..."

Frank nodded, his eyes twinkling. "Turns out she's quite the little exhibitionist."

Larry smiled, shaking his head. "You lucky dog. Sure Frank, don't worry, I'll tell the staff to leave you guys alone. It's funny though, I should send Rhonda in for a look-see. Back when her husband was alive they were swingers."

"You're kidding! Rhonda? " Frank's eyes found her easily in the nearly empty pub, her still youthful, aproned, fifty-something body leaning over a table, wiping it off with a white rag. One of Larry's longest employed waitresses, Frank knew her well. "Christ, Larry you could knock me over with a feather. I never would have guessed."

"They used to travel all over the country meeting people," Larry said. "She told me about it on the sly once, years ago. But now that her husband's gone she's a little more open about it. Wistful, I guess you could say. Don't be telling folks, though. Keep it under your hat, okay?"

"Oh, sure," Frank said. "You know, I always thought you and she would make a nice couple. What's keeping you from that?"

"Awe, you know. I still got Marjorie on my mind, even after all these years, and Rhonda's still thinking about her Max. It's tough, moving on. You know all about that."

Frank nodded. "Do you think she ever did the kind of swinging where they had big parties, like what's going on in the ballroom?" he asked.

"Ha! Wouldn't surprise me," Larry said. "That's why I was saying I should send her in there, for old times sake."

"Yeah, that's not what I'm getting at," Frank said. "You should bring her in there. You and Rhonda. Just quietly tell her what's going on, see how she reacts. She knows you pretty well. I'm guessing she can read your mind by now."

"Oh boy, I'm in trouble if she can do that! " Larry chuckled. "You realize you're suggesting I do sexual things with an employee while she's on the clock. How's that gonna look?"

Frank smirked. "How's it gonna look? Just walk through those ballroom double doors and nothing looks the same anymore. I'm telling you, Larry. It's nothing more than a dream in there."

Rhonda, finished with her table bussing, saw Frank and Larry talking. "Everything okay, Frank?" she asked as she approached, putting her arm around him, her favorite customer. "Need some more fried zucchini and mushrooms? Those go fast."

"No, everything's good Rhonda. Perfect. It's quite a party in there. I just came out to invite you and Larry to join us, if you two would like to."

"Me and Larry, huh?" she said, eyes twinkling. "Now there's an idea."

"You'd have to go off the clock, Rhon," Larry said. "A sex toy company party isn't exactly kosher with the sexual harassment cops."

"Oh my gosh, I hadn't thought of that," Rhonda said, chuckling. "Ha! What've you got, Frank, dildos for party favors?"

"Something like that," Frank said, smirking. "Well, I better get back. You two are very welcome to join us, but let's keep it sort of on lock-down, all right?"

"Wow," Rhonda said, her happy eyes looking intrigued.

"You got it, my friend," Larry said to Frank. "I'll tell everyone it's private, and put a sign outside the door."

Frank left Larry and Rhonda chatting, their softly excited faces telling of the possible outcome. The quiet, carpeted hallway seemed otherworldly to Frank, because he knew what was happening on the other side of the big swinging doors. He walked in and saw it, more naked bodies than before, people fucking, people sweating, people moaning and orgasming. The sounds were pure porn, and then, suddenly, Mel Torme was singing, and then he was singing louder, a jaunty old song called Haven't We Met — I've ordered some sunshine with showers, and I've got my scenery set. Right there with a thump our umbrellas will bump, and I'll say "Pardon me, haven't we met?"

Music, always a bit magic, did the trick this time. Women who had so far only let men use toys on them suddenly mounted their hard-cocked co-workers, and the orgy became a no limits affair, not that it wasn't nearly one already.

Surprising Frank with the quickness of their decision, Larry and Rhonda appeared, Rhonda without her ever-present waitress apron, with her hair down and a bright red swath of fresh lipstick on her happily surprised lips. "Oh my God!" she said.

Larry chucked at the wild scene. He and Frank stood there, close to Rhonda, all three of them taking in the sights and sounds of the carnal debauchery. Up high and visible, like a live sex show, Crystal stood on a table, bent at the waist, her stunning young body being spit-roasted by Frank Jr. and Carmine. Frankie, with his shirt open and his pants around his ankles, hard-fucked her pussy, and Carmine, still mostly dressed, had his cock deep in Crystal's gurgling throat.

Just below them, Internet Orders Manager Ying Yue lay on her back, writhing, eyes wide and mouth open as Deep Thrust Nine fucked her, relentlessly, as only a machine can do. She wore dark red lingerie, the gusset of her panties pushed aside to freely give her bare-waxed pussy to the Nine's monstrous newly contoured Quad-Layer cock. Chirps of delight fluttered from her pretty little mouth, right in time with the strokes of the swiftly whirring machine.

A handful of clothed men and women stood off to the side of everything, passing a champagne bottle to fill their glasses, watching the goings on with varying levels of fascination and amazement; but most, well over thirty of the forty-two in attendance, had joined in the orgy in one way or another. Frank couldn't help but notice sweet, dear Millicent, blindfolded and tied, in a wide-armed wide-legged doggy style position, down on the carpeted floor. The four pieces of the Fleece Lined Bed Restraint Kit, securely fastened to her wrists and ankles, reached out to the legs of two different tables, the recently re-designed restraints being plenty long enough for real-world use, he was happy to see. Even with Millie's eyes hidden behind the Red Mischief Satin Blindfold, he could tell she was in a rare place of ecstasy, giving herself fully naked for a gangbang from cocks young and old. As Frank watched, Big Jim from the grounds crew withdrew himself from her raw red pussy and moved to the front of her, stuffing her happily moaning mouth with his cock. He raised her blindfold for a moment so she'd know whose cum she was about to devour, and her moan at the moment of recognition was loud and wonderful, as was the moan when the next hard cock slipped deep into her sloppy, cum-dripping pussy.

"I should have known you'd be a bunch of perverts, making all those dirty toys over there," Rhonda said, smiling. "I fucking love it. So, Larry, what'd you have in mind?" She gave him a sexy, smirking look that spoke volumes. She was more than ready for her long grieving dry-spell to be over. Taking Larry's warm lumped crotch in one hand, and Frank's in the other, she said, "How 'bout both you handsome men give it to me. Ever done a threeway with a horny girl?"

Rhonda's mouth went first to Larry's, giving him a deep, loving tongue kiss that worked her jaw, and then she kissed Frank just as deeply, just as much saying, silently, fuck me now. As Mel Torme finished his song and Bing Crosby began to croon, Rhonda stripped to her everyday underwear, with flashing eyes and a happy smile that said she'd been waiting for this day for a long, long time.

Down on her knees, she sucked Larry's swiftly hardening cock, while her right hand deftly opened Frank's belt and his trousers, an impressive display of blind dexterity. Frank didn't notice, but the eyes of the spectators had shifted, because the boss was about to get some.

Without the champagne it would have been an odd sight, Frank's big cock out in the open, but this was a night for the history books, so instead of a gasp there was whoops. Then Frank moaned, loud, from the heroin hit of Rhonda's hot skilled mouth, and two of the party-dress clad holdouts got goosebumps. One, Latanya, went so far as to reach behind herself, unzip her dress, and shimmy to her skivvies. Big brown skivvies they were, of elastic and lace, old fashioned but not unpleasant. A bra and panties, with high heeled pumps on her feet, and a champagne glass clutched tightly in her hand.