Cheerful, Loose, and Loaded

"I knew you'd do this to me," her friend Clara said, shimmying, with blushing shyness, out of her own party dress. "You girls are so easy about it."

"You girls? Don't you make this about race, Clara. First of all, you're my friend, too, but hey, I'm lookin' at a whole lotta white women gettin' their fuck-slut on right now. Hell, they're almost drownin' out Frank Sinatra! And that ain't no easy thing to do!"

With their Plus Size dresses in a heap on the floor, Clara and Latonya's breasts vied for the unspoken title of Most Curvy Wowzers. Clara's were especially eye-popping, due to the low-cut hammock like construct of her party dress bra.

"Yeah, but...Tamisha," Clara said, spying Tamisha going all blowjob wild on what appeared to be the biggest cock in the room.

"Oh, well she just crazy," Latonya chuckled.

One of the still-dressed men, Jorge, a too-skinny, somewhat shy electronics assembler from the vibrator line, used the opportunity of filling their glasses to get a closer look at the two women's charms. "What'd you get for a gift?" he asked, having trouble keeping his eyes up off of the double set of mammoth bazoombas.

Latonya, smirking, said, "You mean besides enough money to pay for the divorce lawyer I'm gonna need after tonight? I got a eight-inch Vibrarific."

"I make those," Jorge said proudly.

"I know you do. You ever...use one on your woman?"

Jorge shook his head. "She probably...wouldn't like it."

"Which gift did you choose?" Latonya asked him.

Jorge put the champagne bottle down on the carpeted floor. From his back pocket he pulled a Red Mischief Satin Blindfold to show to the two ladies. His face didn't display much happiness.

"Let me guess," Latanya said. "She won't like that either. Oh, Jorge, you just bought yourself some trouble, if you want it." Latanya wanted to laugh at the strange mix of excitement and terror on Jorge's face. She glanced at Clara and saw a similar look. "You two stayed here all this time for a reason, right?" Latonya said. "Let's get it on."

"The...blindfold, do you mean?" Jorge said, eyes widening with excited curiosity.

Latanya laughed. "Ain't you never heard that expression, let's get it on? You know you're about to get smothered in tits, right? Think you can handle it?" Looking at Clara's big, surprised eyes, Latoya said, "You look like you need that blindfold more than I do, girl."

Clara shook her head. "Can we...put it on him?"

"Ooo, I like the way you think. But...you do realize the rest of the room is gonna see you, right?"

Clara blushed, but the fact of the matter was that the rest of the room was plenty busy, and there was already plenty of big asses on display. One more wouldn't make much of a dent in things, even if it was one of the biggest.

Moments later, with a swinging big band blaring, Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gormé are singing — Then suddenly there he is, and you want to be where he is, and this could be the start of something, this could be the heart of something, this could be the start of something...big!

Jorge, excited to the point of near heart attack, ravishes the soft immensity of Clara's naked bosom with his face and mouth, drawing moans from her that are just as soft and deep. He and his two women stand in a tight cluster against the wall, Jorge newly naked, blindfolded, his cock hard in Latoya's stoking hand. Clara still has panties on, but Latoya is nude, her brown body big and curvalicious, writhing from the buzzing Vibrarific that Jorge is holding tight in the cleft of her wet pussy lips.

This, and everything else in the room, pushed Clara to the boiling point. Feeling like something fizzy was in her veins, she gave in to her mighty horniness, on her knees, sucking a cock for the first time in ten long years. Jorge's cock, so much harder than her husband's, made her forget the world around her, and she quickly lost her happy mind.

"Oh, fuck! " Jorge exclaimed, his eyes in the dark but his thrilled mind knowing exactly who was going so wonderfully wild on him. He hadn't had a blowjob in a decade either, and back then it was just a cheap prostitute who did a lousy job. This, this heaven that was Clara's mouth and hands, this was...

Clara gasped, losing control of Jorge's spurting cock, his cum splatting all over the heaving enormity of her naked tits.

"You lick that off of her!" Latoya commanded, taking off his blindfold so he could see the mess that he'd made. "She's gotta be clean when she goes home to her man!"

Eating his own cum was new to Jorge, but he took to it with hunger. Down on his hands and knees, slurping the slippery off of Clara's huge tits, his skinny ass was up and open. Latoya's face went there, between his cheeks, giving the same guttural grunt she gives when she rims her husband's asshole with her strong-muscled tongue. His cock, hanging downward under him, still hard, was in Latoya's hand, her squeezing strokes milking the last of his cum. Jorge's ecstasy moaned loudly from his licking mouth.

The blow job had elevated Clara's heat, but this, this was all too much for her to hold back from. She threw Jorge to the floor, flung off her panties, and fucked him, riding him, her big body sitting up high and proud, her wet tits glistening like watermelons in the morning dew. Jorge's cock, mid-sized but mighty, newly re-hardened to vigor from the tingly thrill of Latoya's astonishing rimjob, made Clara's eyes sparkle like fireworks.

Two more of the spectators fell under the spell, and then two more, and soon everyone in the room was involved in one way or another, getting or giving a blowjob or a pussylicking, if not more.

"My momma done told me..." Dina Shore sang, "when I was in knee pants..."

With more women than men working for the company, and many of the inhibitions in the room broken into unrecognizable bits, the Deep Thrust Nine fuck machine proved surprisingly popular. Crystal, Ying Yue, Pattie Milnif, and even Rosalind Brookstein had tried it, her shrieks of orgasmic delight vying with the loud piped-in music for entertainment value. Yip!...Yip!...Yip!..." she'd howled, right before orgasm number three rendered her nearly unconscious, her body twitching and flopping like a beached sea bass.

Next up to try the machine was Cindy Lou, office clerical assistant, still wearing the little dress that she'd worried was 'too sexy.' She was pantyless down under, from a wild, unhinged doggy style threeway on the floor with her office mates Frank Jr. and Carmine, just five minutes ago. Hiking up her dress to climb onto the Deep Thrust table, none other than Fátima helped her into position. Once the Nine Inch Quad-Layer had begun its machine-driven penetration of her somewhat hairy pussy, Cindy Lou worked her finger in a come-hither way, beckoning Fátima up onto the table with her.

"Oh, goodie!" Fátima said.

Word had gotten out to the bi-curious, and Cindy Lou was one of those. Having Fátima sit on her face would kill two birds with one stone — hide her embarrassment from the close-up audience, and give her a taste of pussy, her first ever. With her hand on the controls, Deep Thrust Nine went deep indeed, and she and Fátima both moaned their pleasure.

"Oh my God!" Pattie Milnif said, her eyes wide. "I wanna go again and do it that way."

"We can just do it on the floor, honey," Fátima said, breathless and moaning. "You ever sixty-nine a girl?"

"I never even sixty-nined a guy," Pattie said, but a few seconds later that statement was no longer true. Clem took her hand and they were down, as quick as that, right amongst the feet of the onlookers, Pattie with her first black cock in her mouth, Clem sucking on pink white pussy. Someone handed Clem a Done-Bung-It anal plug, and he worked it into the tight little hole of Pattie's smoothly curved ass. Quiet Pattie, it should be told, was one of the first women fully naked that night, with a deep-blood tingle in her veins, but she'd never been even as close to a mile away from an orgy before tonight.

Crystal was the first woman with a full trifecta—pussy, ass and mouth all full of cocks at the same time—but a few other women wanted to try. It was a golden opportunity after all, maybe the only orgy they would ever attend, so why not go for it, they thought. Or maybe it was the champagne, still flowing, making everyone as high, and as off kilter, as the voice of the singer serenading them, Tiny Tim. Whatever the cause, those with the hunger for more than one cock took advantage.

A fine example is Niki Strits, her name as skinny as her body. Out of her tight yoga pants and her silk button-front blouse, she looked the size of a ten-year old girl, but she was all woman, prone to making off-color jokes at work that tested the limits of current day office decorum. With a body like hers—stick-thin with a striking, wee little ass—unless her pussy is all out of proportion one can imagine it as being as tight as a vice. And what of the ass itself on a woman such as her, an anal opening fit for only a small, small cock, if one at all? Is double penetration even possible?

The answer is yes, yes it is. Alonso needed to use his ingenuity, making a quick dash to the buffet table to lube his oversized cock with grease from the fried zucchini tray, finally easing his way deep inside Niki's tiny ass. Those who watched were slack-jawed at the sight, probably the biggest cock in the room skewering the tiniest little hole. Niki, with Rodney Emerson below her, his cock already nestled in the squeezing heaven of her pussy, was beyond thinking. In her electrified, spinning mind, the real world had ceased. The party was a dream. This soon-to-be fourway, this four on the floor, made her howl. Until, of course, that third man, Clement, the warehouse's most skilled forklift operator, stuffed her mouth with his fat cock. From that point on Niki sounded like the sexiest stuck pig this side of the Mississippi. Not that she looked like one. Picture a tiny, naked, writhing ballerina, having her nastiest fun. Now picture her having an endless, mind melting orgasm.

And so it went, this end of year party. Millicent's blindfolded dream came true when she heard Frank's voice saying, "I heard you call for me, Millie." Millie wasn't even sure if she had, so lost was she in the drug-like delirium of gangbanging men. "Oh yes!" she softly cried. "Fuck me, Frank. Fuck me like you love me." The man who was inside her gave way to the boss, saying to him, "If the Suckfuckster Beyond feels like this sweet pussy, it's gonna be money."

Millie felt Frank's touch behind her, and she moaned, and she cried "Yesss!...Yesss!" when Frank's cock began slowly fucking her. "Oh, Millie!" he said, his voice a loving sigh. "I've found you."

"Yesss!" she softly cried. "Yesss!" A gang bang had been one of her wildest it'll-never-happen dreams, ever since she could remember, but this, this pure love inside her, took her even higher. Never would she have guessed the best sex of her life would happen at age fifty-five, but here it was, a night she'd never forget.

The party had gone long, and the pub had closed. The cook went home and the young waitress did, too, heeding the instructions Larry had left them with when he'd said "Rhonda and I are going to join them, but they said they'd like their privacy, so we'll clean everything up in the morning." Katia the bartender, newly emigrated from Russia, with a better understanding of drink names than regular English, hadn't understood his instructions so well. She thought it would be wise to tell Larry she was leaving, and ask about locking the back door.

Walking past the PRIVATE PARTY sign in the hallway, and through the swinging double doors, she stopped in her tracks, her eyes darting around, taking in the wild sight. It's not the first orgy she'd seen, but it was certainly the biggest. And these were people she knew. A bar across from a factory is always a popular hangout, especially at lunchtime when there's a pub menu involved. Yes, Katia knew so many of these people.

"Oh, fuck yeah!" she heard a familiar voice say, that of a young black man about her age, named Booker. Seeing him approach, naked, seemed almost dreamlike. "Katia, how you doin'. You partyin' with us?"

"I look for...Larry," she said.

Booker turned and pointed. "Yeah, he's here. He's over there fuckin' a friend of mine. You're stayin', right? You know you want to." Booker stood there, naked, muscled and proud, his words flowing like street. "Tell you what. Let's go ask him. If he says yes, are you in?"

Katia smirked, her gaze drifting down Booker's ripped body. "If he says? Yes. I am in."

"Damn!" Booker said. He took a long glance at Katia's tits, braless under her tight little tanktop, then looked back up at her eyes, sexy eyes that were smoky dark with heavily applied eye liner and mascara. "This day's been a trip, but you walkin' in here is off the fuckin' hook," he said.

Katia didn't know those meanings for the words 'trip' and 'hook', but a nice meaty black cock was in her wheelhouse of understanding. They basically don't exist in her part of Russia, handsome black men, so Booker's hand taking hers was a first.

"Don't embarrass him," Rhonda said, rushing over to quietly intervene, before Katia got to Larry. "He'll be fine with it. I'll make sure. Just enjoy yourself. This kind of thing never happens around here."

It was all a first, in so many ways, and the howls and grunts of orgasm rang long into the night. Here's to a happy new year, indeed.

-

The next day, a crisply cold Sunday, there was a run on Morning After pills at several of the local pharmacies, and some of the area's churches saw a slight uptick in attendance, though it was mostly the Catholic ones.

Monday, back at work, the plant, and especially the office, were much quieter than usual. Hangovers were gone and eyes were bright, but coy smiles and bashful looks took the place of quite a bit of the usual relaxed banter. Most everyone was all business, at least outwardly.

Worried about the aftermath, Frank sent Frank Jr. on a mission, partly to get a feel for everyone's mood. With iPad in hand, Frankie made the rounds throughout the office, factory, and warehouse, signing up women for Deep Thrust Nine beta testing. Unlike previous products, the take rate this time was nearly 100 percent, four or five times more than was needed. It looked like beta would have to go on well into the summer. That was okay with Frankie and Carmine. With this being the company's first product of its type, with many moving parts and electronics, it was better to be safe than sorry.

Interestingly, to those who noticed, Crystal, on that Monday, manned the phone at the front desk with her button-up shirt actually buttoned up, nearly to the neck. But thank goodness it was temporary — sometime around the morning coffee break a button was opened, and by midday her lovely cleavage was once again catching the sunshine coming in though the big front windows, and all was right with the world.

At lunchtime, there was a bigger crowd than usual at Hinkenbatter's Pub. Booker and his friends sat at the bar. Katia, smiling as only an emigrated Russian can do, took their lunch orders, thinking, in the back and even in the front of her mind, of the two days and nights of wild sex that she and Booker had shared. Of course his friends had all fucked her too, Saturday night at the company orgy, but it was Booker she was now crazy about, having already transmitted pictures of his ripped body—including the fully naked behind of him—to her friends and cousins back in Russia.

Suckfuckster Beyond was put on sale later that winter, and Frank and the gang were thrilled when Sex Is It! magazine gave it a full review, awarding it a Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! rating, five yes's being the best a product can receive. Orders poured in, and profits soared. The names on its three intensity controls, voted on by the entire company, ended up as Millie at 1, Tamisha at 2, and Crystal at 3. Even Tamisha voted for Crystal to be the hot button, because of the young receptionist's role in getting the orgy ball rolling at the end-of-year party, not that Crystal didn't deserve it for her sheer hotness and sexual prowess alone. And Millicent, well, at first, she didn't wish to be 'outed' by having her name on the device, but after her quiet divorce, and with the quickly ramping up swinger lifestyle that she and Frank shared with Larry and Rhonda, her thoughts had eased about it, much more than a little. Crystal, as you can guess, was entirely thrilled to have her name on every Suckfuckster Beyond, especially so since her name is on the button that makes every man spurt like a beautiful geyser.

And so, life at the Ferdy and Son Toy Company went on. Ying Yue and some of the other women never said a word about the Saturday night soiree, other than expressing their happiness about the life changing fifty-thousand dollar bonus.

Others were more open about things, some in the factory even upping their blue banter. Winnie Spurl and her good friend Adele were at the sharp end of that stick, telling Tyrell and Busta things like "I sucked my hubbie's cock last night. You're so much harder, you work that muscle out at the gym or somethin'?" and "Damn, I'm horny this mornin'. Wanna put a little bit of your cream in my coffee break?" Of course it was all talk, Winnie and Adele are good at that, but in the backs of their minds nothing made them happier than the memories of the screaming orgasms they had on Tyrell's and Busta's super hard cocks, not to mention Alonso's, and Booker's and Clem's, Sparky's and Billy's, and a few others that were lost in the blur of it all.

Inside the cozy, crowded confines of Hinkenbatter's Pub at lunchtime on that Monday after the party, Crystal stood up from her table. She said "Hey everybody! " to get their attention, and the lunchtime murmur quieted. "I just wanna say, I love workin' with all you guys. Me and Fátima are gonna be hangin' out a little bit, but I just want you to know I didn't switch sides or anything. I never had so many guys ask me out before. It's a little overwhelming, but super nice. I'd love to, like, date all of you, one at a time or somethin', but that'd seem really slutty. So anyway, I wanted to say, New Year's Eve is tomorrow night. Me and Fátima and Katherine and Cindy Lou are gonna be out dancin' at the Mucky Duck. It's not gonna be, like, a lezzy night or anything, although...maybe it will be," she said, smiling as she caught Cindy Lou's bashful eyes. "So I just wanted to say to you all, come on out, you guys, the Duck'll be rockin'. We won't be workin' Wednesday, so let's do it up! I know you assholes all know how to have a good time, am I right?"

Whoops and cheers rocked the wood-paneled pub, and a happy murmur rose as the smiling workers tucked into their hot beef sandwiches, their gravy fries, and their banana pudding. Winnie Spurl seductively licked a dollop of the white pudding from the tip of her spoon, winking at young Tyrell, and he couldn't help but smile.