Drool

Not wanting to lose his audience, Doug decided to include Mr. Ryan in the event. He backed away from Anthony and then standing again in the center of the room, he pulled his shorts all the way down, bending at the waist and guiding them extra carefully all the way down to his ankles. He held that pose so that Mr. Ryan could see his eager asshole and the smooth backside of his ball sack. After taking off his shorts, he got onto the chair straddling Mr. Ryan and began to thrust himself against him, dry fucking against those splendid white jeans. The sight of his hard cock moving recklessly in the dim light of the room sent the two men into fits of erotic delight. It was one of those pictures that can be recalled many years later when lying in bed feeling the cool summer breeze across the body.

Now naked, Anthony got up and stood behind Doug, rubbing his ass crack, pressing against his hole, and then putting his cock between the boy's cheeks and joining the fray. He bent down and began licking the smooth part at the top of his ass crack where it meets his back. The orange light played off their bodies, smoothing the flat stretches of skin, emphasizing the muscles, the rib bones, hip bones, lines and indents. It was motion, strain, passion and desire.

"Okay boys," said Mr. Ryan finally, speaking as if his mouth was unwilling to form words, filled as it was with the thick saliva of intense pleasure. "I think we'd better fuck or it'll be over before I even have a chance to get these jeans off."

Several minutes later, the three were naked. Doug was on his back on the table; Anthony was standing next to him feeding him his cock, and Mr. Ryan was lubricating his cock in preparation the traffic of the next half an hour. As Mr. Ryan moved to push his cock into Anthony's asshole, Doug leaned his head way back to adjust for Anthony who now grabbed the table and spread his legs further. As Anthony bowed and braced to let Mr. Ryan in, he watched Doug's body lying flat on the table, the line down the center to his body, dipping into his bellybutton. Doug was slowly masturbating his cock, his legs spread, and his feet together.

Suddenly, Mr. Ryan pushed himself past the resistant muscle, almost coming right then as he penetrated the tight asshole. He grabbed Anthony's well sculpted hips for leverage and started moving in earnest. Doug reached one hand back, moving it over Mr. Ryan's round, strong ass. Of course, he kept one hand on his own cock, which he was now working rapidly. His mouth was busy containing and responding to Anthony's cock, which was being shoved down his throat by the enthusiastic thrusting of Mr. Ryan from behind. A string of drool made its way from the corner of his mouth, and because his face was upside down to accommodate Anthony's position, it rolled over his hot cheek and got tangled up in a strand of his luxurious hair.

Unexpectedly, Anthony pulled his cock out of Doug's mouth. He rubbed his tightened, slobbered-on ball sack over his face, but only incidental to the fact that he was jacking off, that he was getting ready to shoot his come all over the beautiful boy, who was awash in a seedy, yet sensual orange light. Bucking one last time against Mr. Ryan who responded in kind, he came thickly, first shooting a distance, his warm liquid landing across Doug's toned chest, then falling creamily over his face.

"Now it's your turn, Doug. Open up," said Mr. Ryan, coming to the other end of the table, lining up his cock and waiting, somewhat impatiently, for Doug to prepare himself. Pulling his legs back to expose his asshole, Doug invited the man in. As Mr. Ryan slipped inside, Anthony gently, warmly, thankfully, licked his come from Doug's face, pausing frequently to kiss the cocksucker tenderly, to whisper dirty thoughts into his ear.

It was an absolute revelation for Doug. He loved to be fucked up the ass. He loved the feeling of a powerful, desperate man moving inside him, trying to get at an itch that only he could scratch. He loved the full feeling, the hot meat that nothing could replicate. He loved the way it felt so dangerous, so wrong, so purely about fucking.

It was not long, however, before Mr. Ryan announced, "I'm coming." The other two quickly responded, getting on the floor in front of him, waiting for his come. And then, when he did, they both ate gleefully, tasting the taste of fucking, of their own asshole mingled with another's, of engorged steaming flesh.

Leaving Anthony and Mr. Ryan, Doug threw open the orange curtains. He could see the street below, the gaudy neon of this part of town, the signs that beckoned and the hurrying people that answered their call. Bathed once more in the moonlight, just one story up from the street, he began to masturbate once more. Closing his eyes, he recalled everything about the day, the bodies moving in harmony, the delicious feeling of being exposed, the dangerous shame of having each fantasy revealed, the throbbing cocks, the bouncing breasts, the straining muscles, the screams, the moans, the whimpers. All of that, and then his two lovers came up behind him and ran their hands over his body, touching his everywhere he needed to be touched and finally he was able to have an orgasm that shook him, that had been a long time coming, that made him collapse happily into the orange chair in the corner.

Soon after, from his jeans strewn near the bed, Anthony's phone rang.

"I've got Paige tied to the bed right now; she's a little drunk and she wants you to come over," said his mother when he answered the phone.

"I'm not sure if I can right now. I'm hanging out with a few guys."

"Oh, are you," said Ms. Dawson knowingly.

"Yes. Exactly, so I'm a bit busy."

"Bring them a long, they can have some too." Anthony knew all about Paige and how she sometimes got into these moods where she wanted to push her body to the very brink. The fact that she was tied up at his mother's house did not surprise him, though it did give him a slight twinge of jealousy, his mother would certainly be the ideal place to mortify herself in some way, to taste mortality in the sweat, the shit, the piss, the come of her body.

NINE

Jane and Joanie were naked in the living room; having consumed the required amount of wine, they were warm, red-faced and giggly. They had talked about all sorts of things and Jane had really grown to like the younger woman, even though she planned to maintain her nefarious plans. For Joanie it felt great to be sitting completely naked in a strange living room; the conversation went in all sorts of directions, all the while their bodies remained decidedly conspicuous, like an elephant standing in the corner.

Jane's plans were put into action when her husband Tom arrived at home. Jane was sitting on the couch facing him, posed in a particularly opened position; Joanie had her back to him so he didn't recognize her until he was beckoned into the sitting room. As the women stood, Jane saw recognition flash across both of their faces. It was delightful, she thought, that Joanie was naked. She was so vulnerable and Jane could see her flush across her entire body.

Joanie felt a strange tingling in her pussy and ass crack: it was something that she always used to feel as a child whenever she was getting into trouble or encountering conflict. The feeling was exaggerated with her nakedness, and for some reason, it was not an unpleasant feeling.

It was one of those precious moments as Joanie and Tom came face to face. Both of their expressions were completely beyond their control, though they both tried desperately to maintain composure. In that moment that seemed much longer, Joanie looked around the room with new eyes and saw a half a dozen pictures of Tom on display in the room she had just been sitting in, and suddenly everything was very clear.

"Tom," said Jane, "I found your little DVD stash."

Even though the moment was awkward, Tom couldn't help but look at Joanie's naked body: her calves, her pussy stated plainly between strong thighs, the mysterious and wonderful flesh stretched tightly from her belly button to her pubic bone.

"Oh, brother," said Tom. He started to try and explain, but Jane interrupted.

"Tom," she said, "There is no need to apologize. This girl is delightful and quite a wild one when it comes to fucking. I just want to be included in the fun. I think we should make a little movie of our own tonight. Tom, why don't you set up the camera and tri-pod and Joanie and I will get dressed."

Tom was tired. It had been a full day. But, seeing these two beautiful naked women, the familiar adrenaline began to flow, and the blood found its way to all the important muscles. By the time the two women emerged from the bedroom, he was naked and masturbating slowly in front of the recording camera.

Jane had put on a pair of very high heels, and that was all. Joanie, however, was dressed in a leather harness that tied tightly around her mid-section and chaffed at the underside of her tits and forced her nipples to remain constantly hard. To a ring on the back of the harness, Jane had attached a steel bar, which she was holding as a leash of sorts. In this way, Joanie could be dragged along, but she could also be forced to the floor if necessary. While they were together in the bedroom, Joanie had been in a state of stammered apologies and hadn't dared to argue or question what she was putting on. These types of complaints only entered her brain as she was being pulled a little more harshly than she had expected.

Jane was also carrying a bottle of real maple syrup.

Jane dragged Joanie across the cold tile floor to Tom, who was still masturbating, a little quicker now. Then, yanking her up on her knees, wrenching hard against her already sore tits, Jane said: "Okay, bitch, you're going to drink this bottle of maple syrup. And, you're going to like it."

Opening the bottle, she shoved it between the girl's lips and poured it down her throat in a way that made her sputter and cough. The intense sweetness of the syrup already turned her stomach somewhat, just with the first sip.

"Now," said Jane, "let's make it a little more interesting." She moved to her husband and poured a splash into his bellybutton; it rolled lazily down his body toward his magnificent cock. "Drink it, bitch." Unwillingly and willingly, Joanie started to lick up the nauseating syrup, starting near his cock, catching the drips from his ball sack, and then energetically going after the liquid that was now covering his cock, taking it deeply into her mouth, trying to find a contrasting flavour to the unrelenting sweetness of the syrup.

Jane continued to drip syrup over her husband's firm body—onto his nipples, down his ass crack, between his toes—all the while dragging Joanie roughly to a new location of humiliation, pulling her up to lick his earlobe and then forcing her down to catch a bit behind his knee caps.

"Have you had enough, you Asian bitch? Do you like making movies now?"

"Yes. No," she whimpered in response, maple syrup matting her hair and crusting around her nose and lips.

"Okay," said Jane, forcing her on to her knees and then pushing her face down against the tiles, "Spread those legs and open your ass cheeks." Joanie did as what she was told. Jane poured the syrup down her ass crack. Joanie loved the way it felt running over all of her most sensitive nerve endings, dripping off her pussy. But, she had little time to enjoy that slow and sensual sensation. Tom was quickly pushing himself inside her, moving her face uncomfortably against the cold floor.

Kneeling in front of her, Jane poured syrup over her small erect tits; she kept pouring until her body was covered, until it was running down into her pussy, over her inner thighs and pooling between her legs. Pulling up on the steel bar, she demanded that Joanie lick the syrup off her body, which she tried valiantly to do, though her body was largely out of her control because of the vigorous thrusting of the inexhaustible Tom. She was trying to keep her tongue connected with Jane's smooth stomach when Jane grabbed the back of her head, and forced the girl between her legs; as Joanie began to get into it, Jane reeled back and exposed her sweetened pussy.

For several moments, the group rocked enthusiastically, until finally Jane decided that she needed to have her husband's great cock ramming her to ecstasy, and she needed it to happen right at that very moment. Throwing her sticky body dramatically against the bay window, she demanded that Tom come over a fuck her right now. Jane felt the hard cock move into her all the way, and then Tom seemed to be trying to push it in still further. His girth seemed to fill her, to spread her, to find her most enigmatic places; his depth seemed to hold her in place, to press her into the window, to touch things she didn't think should be touched. It only took this one mighty stroke and she came, sliding messily down the window, sinking uselessly to her knees.

With Jane satisfied, Tom went back to Joanie, moving pleasurably against the sticky friction of the syrup. It was not long before the girl arched her back, pressed herself into Tom, forced his cock deeper into her, and came with a loud, elongated unidentifiable noise.

Tom's orgasm was not far behind. With unusual skill, he carefully dropped it into Joanie's mouth. She shared it with Jane who, now somewhat recovered, was begging for a taste.

At last, their mental faculties recovered, Jane looked around the room then turned to Joanie and smiled: "So, I hear you're a maid?"

TEN

Paige was lying face down on the bed, her arms tied to the headboard. Her legs were not tied, but she had positioned herself willingly so that her legs were underneath her and her ass was thrust into the air. A large pink butt plug filled her asshole, keeping her open, putting pressure on her hidden spots. Over top of the plug, Ms. Dawson had put on a pair of thin cotton panties, which she had stretched so that they were riding deeply into her pussy. By now, they were soaked with her juices. Although she couldn't see her, Paige was aware that Ms. Dawson was sitting behind her, watching her.

She had been tied up for a while before she heard Anthony arrive. Immediately her gyrating and wriggling was renewed and increased.

She called out, "Come in here Anthony. I want you to fuck me."

"Louder," said Ms. Dawson from the shadows.

"Anthony, I want you to fuck me," she screamed.

"Where?"

"Anthony, I want you to put your big dirty cock in my asshole."

"Remember, he's with friends."

"I want all of you motherfuckers to put your cocks into my ass right now."

As the men entered the room they took in the scene and said their polite hellos to Ms. Dawson. She was pleasantly surprised to see the landscapers saying, "Oh wow, Paige. You're lucky. You are getting some fine pieces of meat tonight." She winked and smiled at the landscapers as she said it. Doug and Mr. Ryan were equally happy when Anthony had filled them in about where they were going. Ms. Dawson did not disappoint.

From the shadows, where she was naked and calmly masturbating, she said, "Anthony, take off her panties and give them to me." Anthony did as he was told. She smelled the panties, drinking in the indescribable scent of pussy before rolling them into a ball and stuffing them in her mouth.

Anthony knelt down beside his wife's face. Her eyes were wide. "Honey," she said, "I want you to fuck me in the ass as hard as you can. I want your friends and you to take turns fucking me until you all blow your fucking loads in my asshole."

There were times during the next unknowable period of time when Paige wondered if she would make it through. The three men pushed relentlessly, rhythmically, constantly, forcefully. While one cock was working energetically at her asshole, the other two were eagerly demanding to be sucked, rubbing themselves wetly against her face, pushing deeply into her panting mouth. Eventually, she was moving helplessly with every stroke, unable to offer any resistance. Soon, she was covered in sweat, the flesh of her ass cheeks and tits flapping uncontrollably in the vigour of the men's activity. All the while, Ms. Dawson sat on a chair, casually stimulating herself, her mouth stuffed with a pair of wet, fragrant panties.

After an hour of careful sharing, the men all inserted one last time, jamming themselves inside her with all the force they could muster, filling her completely. With this one stroke each man came one after another, filling her asshole with come, just as she had demanded of them.

Anthony, her dearly beloved husband was the last man inside her and with his final powerful stroke, Paige came again, without ever touching her pussy at all. It seemed deeper, longer; it shook her whole body and made her muscles weak. From somewhere, seemingly far in the distance, Paige heard Ms. Dawson scream through clenched teeth.

With extreme cool, even as the sweating men were breathing hard, looking for a place to sit, Ms. Dawson got up, took the panties out of her mouth and rubbed them against her swollen pussy. Bending over the quivering girl, she started low on her inner thigh, where the come had already began to trickle down to, then she moved up to the fold where her ass met her leg and found some come pooling there. Finally, she moved into her ass crack and ate every drop of come from the girl, going deep inside to get each tasty globule.

The night ended there; with the darkness already fading into light, the tired souls showered steamily and collapsed happily into bed. Joanie and Doug both looked at each other guiltily and said as little as possible about their evenings. Anthony and Paige barely spoke at all during the car ride home, but Paige put her hand lovingly on Anthony's as it rested on gear stick. Tom and Jane showered together, joking softly as they cleaned off syrup. Ms. Dawson and Mr. Ryan had had many days like this before—they sat in their separate houses drinking a hot cup of tea, relishing the joy of being alive in Williamsburg, South Carolina.

CHAPTER FOUR

ONE

The next morning, Saturday, the lovers woke up with the tastes of the day before in their mouths.

In the basement apartment, all was forgiven and they were ready to have at one another again. Joanie raced into Doug's arms. "I want you to fuck me right now." They began tearing off each other's clothes. She ate his cock so deeply she gagged, letting a string of drool run down her chin, then she pushed his cock down her throat again and again, gagging and drooling and spitting. "Spit in my mouth," she demanded. He dropped a big gob onto her waiting tongue. Then, getting on all fours, she told him to fuck her hard. He did, she moaned and yelled and then went on with the mantra, "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop."

At home, Paige and Anthony united in a softer embrace, both still feeling beaten and ashamed. Naked, they laid on the bed, each one with their face in the other's crotch, licking softly, intimately, almost romantically until each was comforted. Paige said softly, "Make me come. I need you to make me come." Anthony lay behind her and she lifted her leg in the air while he pushed his cock into her pussy and soon they were moving in rhythm, both with their eyes tightly closed, easing toward orgasm.

After breakfast, Jane found Tom floating naked in the pool. She said, "Hi baby." She undressed and sat on the edge of the pool, her legs dangling in the water, her pussy over the edge of the tiles. "Why don't you come over here and work your magical tongue on this," she said, splashing some water over her cunt. Tom obliged, eating her softly at first and then getting into it and burying his face in her pussy, the water of the pool adding a new sensual dimension to their sex.