Girls' Night Out of Control

Within moments Miles had shed his briefs, revealing a ball-bag thong much like Peter's. Prancing and dancing in the faces of the girls, both men had very soon freed their cocks, and with a neat sleight-of-hand, Miles produced a can of whipped-cream with which he splurted a dollop onto his plump cockhead, before passing the can to Peter. "Let's have all the single girls up front," Miles coaxed, as he and Peter waved their garnished meat-sicles in their faces. "Come on," cajoled Peter, "Give us a kiss."

Petra and Marcie were the first to comply, each planting a kiss on the bobbing eye of a trouser snake. "What?" challenged Marcie, when someone complained. "I may be engaged, but I'm still single!"

Both of the guys and most of the other girls began coaxing Katie and Allison to grace the proud erections with a kiss each. As they finally surrendered to their friends' insistence, Miles growled in a low voice, "That's right. Lick it clean!"

All the female attention was divided between the two rampant manhoods. Standing in front of Katie, one of the young single girls, Miles presented his increasingly erect penis and ran a twisty line of whipped cream down its length to its forested root. Bowing to the chanted encouragement, "Lick it up! Suck it in!" Katie began licking tentatively, sticking her tongue out and lapping up and down either side of Miles' frosted woodie.

Penny, being one of the married women, 'tsked' her disdain and impatience. "That's not how you do it. It's not a frigging ice-cream cone that you lick around the edges. Here, let me show you." She histrionically rounded her lips and pushed onto Miles' throbbing boner. Having gathered much of the cream, she backed off, and turning to the others, she made a big production of licking the traces from around her mouth.

From the start the other Mrs. in the group, Mrs. Maury, had been watching the shenanigans rather objectively—from apart, smiling indulgently at the increasing silliness. However, when she finally joined in, she made quite an entrance, taking the others rather by surprise. Everyone was laughing hysterically when Shayla, instead of complimenting Penny, reprimanded her. "Hey. You're not finished, yet! There's more to it than that." Pushing her colleague aside Shayla added, matter-of-factly, "Here let me demonstrate. Cock-sucking is crude and carnal; but fellatio is an art!" Then she swallowed the fully erect cock, leaning steadily in until her lips met his groin and her nose nestled into his trimmed and shaped pubes.

Her judgement, perhaps, a little skewed, Shayla was definitely not as drunk as everyone else. Still, she convinced herself that the demo didn't count as cheating—adultery—so much as tutoring less experienced colleagues. She had, after all, financed a long-ago university career as a stripper / exotic dancer, cum escort—and all that that entailed.

Bouncing a few times at depth, Shayla swirled her tongue and gripped him with her throat. Before she could withdraw Miles placed his hands over her ears to hold her head gently but firmly as he twitched and jolted and came forcefully. As the first volley jetted into her gullet she jerked back—against his hands, pulling free. Coughing and sputtering, she leaked jism from the corners of her mouth and out her nose. "That's one," announced Miles in a low growl.

Gasping and laughing and clearing her throat, Shayla hacked out, "Geez! Am I out of practice or what?" Then over her shoulder to the others she proclaimed, "That's NOT how it's done!"

Jazz remarked, watching Shayla wipe her mouth with the back of her hand, "Oh, Mrs. Maury, look at you. So you can be just a little bit naughty."

Shayla's retort, while not very sophisticated, was short and to the point. "Why don't you show us how it's done then, Mrs Gillespie?"

Jazz replied, "Oh, puh-leeze! Ms not Mrs! Not anymore!" Peter, still the only other stripper present, moved so his cock, semi-erect under a garnish of whipped-cream, was bouncing in Jazz's face. Without any apparent reluctance, bowing to what amounted to a peer challenge, she opened her mouth wide, and, grabbing Peter by the hips, expertly gobbled his impressively long dong.

" Hey," Miles whined with mock indignance, "I still good for three or four, maybe even five, before calling it a night!"

While Jazz continued to work on Peter's peter—exercising surprisingly expert fellatio—Miles, in keeping the party underway, cried out, "Okay, Ladies! Show us yer tits! Let's get all you single girls joining in."

Petra stood up immediately, eager to show off, and Katie, followed suit, so that, grabbing the front hem, both ladies swept their blouses and brassieres up in unison, over their faces, allowing the boobs to tumble out—Petra's moreso than Katie's, whose modest pair stood up pert and firm, with hardly any sag. Petra tits, big and quivering sagged low under their own weight; however, they were, quite obviously natural, and Petra was, quite understandably, very proud of them. Still in unison, both girls dropped their rolled blouse fronts, and tangled bra-cups, to sit under their chins, revealing Petra's proud smile and Katie's rather stunned deer-in-the-headlights gaze.

Marcie had already, earlier in the evening, convinced herself that that night would be her last chance to experience anything as remotely wild as this, so, once everyone had expressed their appreciation of brazen duo still standing, she calmly stood and did likewise. Marcie's boobs flopped out, and bounced stiffly on her chest. They were not as big as Petra's but their shape and firmness were clear evidence of a boob job, albeit a pretty good one.

Watching the others, Allison finally overcame her reluctance to join in, as the three flashers began to self-consciously lower their tops. Looking down, she studiously undid several dress buttons, and pulled the straps from her shoulders, taking with them her bra-straps. Then looking up to meet the several pairs of eyes watching her, she flipped the top of her dress, along with the smooth cups of her bra, down, leaving her breasts to spill out into the open. And what marvelously pert and shapely boobs they were, thought several people at once.

Somewhere amidst all the exhibitionism Jazz had successfully sucked off Peter and, after a quick 'lick and a polish', they had turned their attention back to the rest of the group—where Icy was torn with indecision. She wanted to be one of the cohort but she didn't want to make a fool of herself, exposing her little-girl's chest, which she felt would open her to ridicule. On the other hand, she didn't want to be seen as a prude, and, after all, she wasn't a little girl, despite appearances!

Miles, the de facto MC, stepped over and, putting a big-brotherly arm around Icy's shoulder, whispered in her ear, "Be confident. Be proud of what you've got!" And that was all the encouragement she needed. She was fumbling with the buttons and peeling her blouse open when the reinforcements arrived—the friends and colleagues Miles had texted earlier. Her arms wide, holding open her blouse and exposing her bare chest, Icy raised her eyes and was met by the tractor-beam gaze of one of the newcomers.

"Ladies," Miles announced, commanding everyone's attention, "allow me to welcome to the Celebration Party-room, from left to right: Eric Shen; Woody Pole; Apollo; Bo Jobs." Each fellow looked about and smiled and waved as his name was called; all except Apollo, who, after an acknowledging nod to Miles, fastened his deep brown eyes to Icy's baby blues in an intense stare that never swayed. The sparks that flew between them ignited something fundamental deep in each of their cores. "And standing in the doorway," Miles continued, "is our club manager, Sonny Gill, who has made this late-night venue available to us! Let's give him a big round of applause!" Sonny, who had just finished closing up the front of house, nodded and waved, as he stepped in and closed the door behind himself.

The newcomers shed their raiment, Velcro fastened shirts and tear-away pants, as they moved happily into the throng. Apollo moved like a laser-guided missile straight toward Icy, while Miles muttered under his breath, "Now then, let the fun begin."

With the addition of the new arrivals the action seemed to increase exponentially, and, for the most part, everyone's attention was spread as well—bared breasts and genitals abounded. The exception, though no one else noticed, seemed to be Apollo and Icy, who crashed together in an oddly tender but desperate embrace. His rich swarthy colour lay in striking contrast to her almost glowing white skin. Her chest still laid bare, her nipples, almost painfully engorged and erect, poked holes in his well-defined pecs. The strange pair, strangers somehow intimately connected, hugged and necked and kissed like they were trying to merge into one being.

Apollo deftly steered Icy back to an upholstered bench in a dim corner on the perimeter of the room—without breaking, or even letting up on their serious sucking of face. Reaching down, he pushed, with one hand, into the juncture of her legs. Icy shuffled her feet in order to spread her thighs and facilitate his probing fingers; hence, he easily got his hand on her pussy, through her panties, which he was gratified to find were, already, soaking wet. Grasping the thin damp gusset, he yanked them until they tore, letting the tattered remnants fall down her leg, to be kicked aside.

His other hand cupped the back of her head and held her tight, parrying their tongues, while she hung from him, at first with both hands around his neck, but soon, one of her hands dropped to his crotch, fiddling to uncover his woodie. Once she had it out, Icy pulled and stroked his impatient prick, while Apollo commenced finger-fucking her. With his thumb on her clit, circling lazily, he drew his fingers up and down along her furrow, gathering dew, stopping sporadically to push into her vagina, and dance against her G-spot. Icy was simply overwhelmed by a hitherto unknown intensity of sensation. Her lips glowed; her tongue sparkled; she could hardly breathe! Her sex crackled and arced, radiating heat and electricity.

Playing her like a violin, Apollo brought her to climax—wave upon wave of an almost intolerable ecstasy. And he didn't—he wouldn't let up! She felt herself getting lost, as she just kept cumming and cumming and cumming!

The tiny, still-lucid part of her brain was astounded—at herself; at her behaviour; at her emotions, which were riding rough-shod over any and all rationality. She'd always thought 'love at first sight' was a myth, but here she was in romantic embrace with someone she had barely even met. Then again, maybe it was only 'lust at first sight'; but, even so, their shared connection seemed to be tangible, mutual, and irresistible.

While there was still plenty of booze available, Sonny had abandoned his post at the bar, leaving it unattended, as a self-serve honour-bar. The guests, as it were, got increasingly outrageous as they got increasingly inebriated; notwithstanding, their alcohol-fueled uproar slowly gave way to an electric, atmosphere high—a contact high—the intoxicating effects of the hyper-charged erotic energy that filled the room. And, at some point, over the din, Sonny put his head back and yelled, "Ladies! Show us yer bush!"

With a modicum of cajoling, everyone complied except Penny and Petra, who quietly demurred; otherwise, those who had already lost their panties, displayed their goods by light-heartedly lifting skirts. Those who still had underwear on either laughingly pulled them aside to flash their beavers; or removed them, altogether—as did both Allison and Katie, who, surprisingly, without hesitation, each dropped their drawers to display, respectively, a shaved-bald pussy, and a precisely-trimmed Brazilian. Without missing a beat Katie kicked her bikini off her ankle, and dropped to her all-fours. Surprising no-one more than herself, she crawled over to Sonny, as he surveyed the oral orgy, and rather deftly released his turgid prick. Visualizing the recent demos, she slurped him into her warm and wet mouth, and began an unexpectedly talented blow-job.

As she started to really get into it, someone moved up next to her hip and reached around her buttocks to begin stroking the wet and puffy labia—intent on, it would seem, just being distracting. Without pausing, Katie mused, "Could that be a woman's touch?" She couldn't tell, and was far too busy to look. Anyway, and she chuckled at the thought, it had a sort of opposite effect—causing her to redouble her focus on the task at hand—or, more precisely, the task by mouth—her fellatio. Time had become irrelevant, passing at a variety of rates of speed; however, after an interval, Sonny, who had been passively accepting of Katie's attentions, let out a muffled roar and placing a hand behind her head to hold her tight, thrusted deep into her throat, jetting and spurting, until he began to go soft. Still licking and sucking, her mouth still full of turgid man-meat, Katie's attention turned to the persistent finger-fucking she, herself, was receiving. Within mere moments, here arousal rose and exploded like a skyrocket, leaving her shaking and limp, as the climax echoed through her entire body.

Elsewhere, Petra shared Bo's penis with Shayla, licking from opposite sides, along the length, stem to stern, pee-hole to pubes. Petra felt someone stroking her through the gusset of her bikini panties. Although she was most definitely curious, she resisted the urge to stop what she was doing and turn to find out who it was. She stayed a while longer, continuing to orally caress the cock in front of her, while she luxuriated in the sensation ignited by the manipulation of her quim. Eventually, she just had to take a peek, and turned to see her friend, Jazz, just as Jazz's fingers twisted under her panties to expose her soaking crotch. "Oh, but you are wet!" Jazz hissed, then, maneuvering into place, ostensibly to get a better look at Petra's dripping cunt, she held the gusset aside, to see, as it were, what was behind the curtain. Appreciating the view, Jazz tentatively reached out with her tongue—just curious, you understand; just to see what it tasted like.

Jazz drew her tongue in a long, slow lick, up between Petra's labia, gathering her dew. "Mmmm," she thought. "Interesting. Not unpleasant." She let her mouth drop back down, to swirl her flicking tongue-tip against Petra's clitoris, before drawing back along her crack, gather nectar once again—this time right up to Petra's anus, where Jazz pointed her well-lubricated tongue and poked it into the pink star. Petra stiffened, pulling off Bo's vibrating erection to hang frozen, delighting in the sparkling current that was building in her fundament. Giving Petra a quizzical look, Shayla, on the other side of Bo's Mr. Happy, simply rounded her lips and pushed herself fully onto the rampant prick. Holding onto Petra's hips, Jazz set to licking Petra in earnest, from flicking her clit at the bottom of the stroke to poking her rosebud and the top, she found herself getting lost in Petra's backside, licking harder and faster until Petra finally reared up and howled out, "Omigod! Omigod! Fuck! I'm cumming...I'm f-f-fucking c-c-c-cummingggggg!!"

At the same time, Shayla had been energetically bobbing up and down on Bo's woodie, and, feeling the sexual energy emanating from Petra, who, at that point, was sighing and gasping by turns in her relentless arousal, riding Jazz's tongue, Shayla increased her tempo. At the sound of Petra's explosive orgasm, Bo felt his own ignition sequence activate. Grabbing fistfuls of Shayla's hair right behind her ears, he began pounding, switching, in an instant, from receiving fellatio to crude face-fucking. Stiffening, he held Shayla in tight as his ejaculation boiled up from his balls. With her lips deep in his pubic beard, and her nose mashed against his pubic bone, Shayla had no choice but to try to swallow his spewed cream. As the last spurts hit the back of her throat Bo released his grip. Shayla fell back, gasping and snorting and sputtering, cum dripping from the corners of her mouth, and running from her nose. "Fuck!" she hacked wryly. "That's the second blowjob I've screwed up tonight."

Petra's orgasm was as strong as any she could ever remember, and louder! And it came in one of those random lulls in the general commotion, so that it got everyone's attention. It was like there was some sort of challenge issued on the floor; and Shayla's personal observation was like the starting gun! Suddenly everyone was trying to outdo everyone else. Blow jobs and head were everywhere. A real fellatio fest—cunnilingus contest! An oral dance!

Meanwhile, Apollo already had Icy's panties off and was munching her box while he fiddled her nipples—flicking them and pinching them and twisting them. She had never felt such intense sensations in her life. Bucking and bouncing her butt, she threaded her fingers through his hair, snapping her head back and forth, sighing and squealing as she came—her orgasms chasing one another up and down her spine. All around her, were she even wont to observe, everyone was either giving or getting head. Skirts were pulled up, panties pulled down. Articles of clothing were shed like leaves, and half of the room seemed to be on its knees. It was, to say the least, an interesting and dynamic tableau.

Marcie was on all fours giving a blow-job to—she wasn't sure if it was Eric or Woody. Apparently, whoever it wasn't was behind her, and said in a loud voice, "Look at the G string she's wearing! Geez, it's nothing but butt floss!" Pulling aside the miniscule point of material he revealed her pussy in full bloom—labia puffy and pink and glistening. Lining up his bouncing erection, he swiped a handful of spit on the end, then, without any further ado, pushed himself halfway in. "Stop!" Marcie suddenly shouted, rising abruptly off Eric's—as it turned out—cock. Woody, having inserted his key part-way, felt a rush of intense anger—he was pissed off! It was not fair—the fucking cock-tease. "She can't do that!" Woody was all set to get ugly, when Marcie, in one fell swoop, apologized to Eric whom she had just spit out, and flipped over onto her back, and spread her legs wide.

Eric, for his part, gave a sort of, "...plenty-of-fish" shrug, and simply moved off in search of another free mouth or hand, or orifice, his vibrating erection leading the way.

Marcie, meantime, wasted not a moment in grabbing Woody by the biceps and pulling him back on and in. "Too hard on the knees," she whispered. As they began to fuck in earnest, her cappuccino complexion complemented his tanning bed tan.

At last, it seemed, the flood gates had opened; a full-on drunken orgy erupted. Still, in a dim corner on the edges of the main melee, Icy had to plead for Apollo to stop. When he finally rose from between her knees, she brushed her lips on his, as she slid down to the floor between his thighs. Still rock hard from her earlier handling, she drew her lips along his width, dragging her tongue back to his forested root. Rising up slightly, she repeated the laving on the other side. She had to chuckle. "It's almost like I know what I'm doing!" she thought; then, rounding her lips, like she'd seen the others do, she slid her mouth over his cockhead, and plunged onto him, engulfing his erection with fervor. What she lacked in fellatio technique, she more than made up for in enthusiasm. Apollo's locally infamous staying power was hard-pressed, though he felt confident—or rather, perhaps, blessed—that that was only the first of a long pleasurable evening.

Penny, who had stayed pretty much in the periphery, watching the shenanigans, saw Sonny eying her. Casually, or at least as casually as possible, given the situation, he sidled up beside her and cupped her boob. "Hi," he said, with a jocular sparkle in his eye and a giggle in his voice. "I'm Sonny, and I fuck. How do you like me so far?"