Eurotrip Pt. 02

Camilla, always the helper, called in Janice and instructed her quietly. Janice undressed to complete nakedness, walked to Becky, got on her hands and knees, and began licking Becky's body clean. Suddenly, the bathroom echoed as John screamed, "OH MY GOD!" With his pants at his ankles and with as much grace as a flamingo drunk on bourbon, he did the penguin walk to his wife's body and finally shot the load he had been edging for 4 hours all over the two entangled and shiny bodies sliding up and down on each other. Neither was affected by this as Janice's tongue pressed against Becky's tender, slippery flesh and cut a path through all the messy fluids left behind by all those strange men. When her mouth finally filled with remnants of the mess coating Becky's body, she looked at her lover, who was nearby, closed her mouth, swallowed the contents, and opened to show Camilla, who nodded and sometimes said, "Bien," through moans as she, too, was getting off watching the two play around, though Janice was able to display far more vigor toward Becky than Becky could possibly have returned in her condition.

Becky got what she wanted. As she got her clothes on, which Camilla wisely collected as they were shed from Becky's body at the start of this gangbang some 5 hours prior, she asked if the Artillery Shell was still around. Camilla had licked it clean hours ago and kept it close, so she materialized it and handed it to her sore and broken friend. Becky insatiably suctioned the toy to the countertop after washing her hands, jumped up, and came down, ass first, onto the fat, gelatinous anal stretcher. Her back arched and she yelled, "Oh FUCK," but it stayed in as Craig and Bailey came to her side and each took an arm to gently and respectfully escort her out of The Light.

Becky needed frequent stops to sit and gather herself. She leaked constantly. Where ever she sat, she left two round, side-by-side wet spots in her wake. The feeling that she could lose control of her faculties and pee right on the street was her constant worry until they returned to the hostel where she cleared a path to the communal bathroom, popped out the Artillery Shell, and sat, for what seemed like hours, on the toilet, allowing gravity to do its job and pull all the foreign filth from both her holes. This feeling excited her as she sat. So much came out that she started playing with it as it exited, then realized that this had to end and her head had to return to the world, at least for now. Men and women came and went, but Becky was not worried about being propositioned looking as she did. She had the memory and, as far as she knew, she still had John.

After her long bout with the toilet, she showered and began feeling like maybe, sometime soon, her holes would return to their beautiful and unfettered state. Thinking about that made her sad. Their unfettered state. She would return with her husband to America and, with that, return to normal, bland, and patterned while he got to travel the world and, most likely, cheat on her again, or at least that was what was in her head.

As she lay next to her husband feeling complete and empty all at once, that creaking fan overhead as her thoughts circulated in her head just as each fan blade above her head orbited again and again, her mind wandered back to the bathroom scene at The Light, her body jerking backwards as the abusive German man grabbed a handful of her hair and shoved her face into a piss covered urinal allowing the entire bathroom access to any part of her they wanted, she took note of her husband, tickled by the view of his wife being made a wet sleeve for any man who wished access. Though she did have fun, the fact that he enjoyed the treatment needled her to no end. She would find a way to exact real retribution for his misgivings. With only 4 days remaining on their backpacking trip across Eastern Europe, and only two of them to spend in Amsterdam, the clock was ticking and her time was short. If she would take John to task, it must take place here, in Amsterdam!