Into the Deep End

"Hi," the new conquistador, crooned, huskily, "I'm Darren."

"Ooooff!" Paige grunted, replying to his initial drive by thrusting her pelvis up to forcefully meet his penetration; then, she threw her legs up over his back to facilitate even deeper penetration. "Unh! Unh! Unh!" Paige bounced her hips, tilting her sex to slap against his groin, as she clenched her vagina, gripping, holding and stroking his solid erection. Her orgasm ripped through her like a tornado, leaving her composure in tatters. She literally lost herself to the pleasure and its persistent after-shocks, barely even aware of Darren cumming in and among the echoes.

With an oddly wistful gaze, Darren reluctantly pulled out, and rose—almost shoved out of the was by Logan, who, kneeling next to Paige's still vibrating body, flashed her a meaningful, if rather sinister, grin. Reaching across her, he grabbed an arm and a thigh and deftly flipped her over. With a few, apparently well-practiced, moves, he raised her onto her hands and knees, and positioned himself against her butt, between her legs. Paige, who hadn't the will to resist, passively complied.

With a single push, Logan slid smoothly into Paige's well-lubricated love tunnel, not stopping until the fronts of his thighs smacked solidly against her cheeks. Pausing a moment, to fully appreciate the warm grip of her vagina, Logan reached around and took her boobs in hand. Holding them like reins, he tore into a frenzied thrusting, pounding her like a jack-hammer. There was—there must have been—a direct line from her tits to her cunt, for as soon as he flicked her nipples Paige went wild, wailing loud and frenetically; notwithstanding, as peaky and abrupt as her arousal was, it took her to, but not quite over the edge. As Logan came, bellowing proudly, Paige was left dangling—excruciatingly close.

With a neat sort of do-see-doh,—while Paige teetered infuriatingly on the edge—Jay slipped in, skillfully replacing Logan. With one single stroke—one slick, authoritative penetration— smacking his hips up against her buttocks, Jay lodged himself in deep, and took the reins, as it were, from Logan, pulling mercilessly on her engorged nipples. Rocking back, Paige chased his brief withdrawal, holding steady as he ploughed into her again and again. It took Jay but half a dozen solid strokes to trigger another huge orgasm for Paige. Rocking frantically, her vaginal muscles clamped—cramped; causing her entire fundament to go rigid. Still, she continued to rhythmically raise her head to scream and drop her chin to puff. Her elbows threatened to buckle as her body shook and quaked.

As she came, Jay dropped her tits as if they were on fire; now hanging free, they swung about erratically. Jay, meanwhile, palmed her glutes, squeezing her tight butt firmly with his fingers; he, then, pulled her cheeks apart, trying to loosen the grip and free his penis. For the long seconds of her climactic descent, Paige froze. Stuck in her orgasmic clasp, Jay almost panicked.

Unnoticed by either of them, Ollie had stepped up beside Paige and presented his rampant erection to her screaming and puffing mouth, just as her orgasm peaked. When she, once again, raised her head and opened her mouth to scream, he simply leaned in, and inserted his throbbing dick. Paige was more than a little surprised to find her oral cavity suddenly stuffed full of cock. It pushed well past her somewhat disabled gag reflex, to tickle her tonsils. For just an instant she believed she was going to die—suffocated on a boner, but then Ollie pulled back ever-so-slightly, before leaning into her unexpected fellatio again.

Gradually, her vaginal grip relaxed slightly; loosening its hold on Jay, who could, then, relax slightly, too. He withdrew at bit, then plunged in again, as Paige's cunt began to clench and let up, and pulse to the rhythm of her sucking mouth-cheeks and throat. At the first few throbs of her velvet tunnel on his cock, Jay exploded—his ejaculation being the longest, strongest, and most voluminous he had ever experienced. Meanwhile, the fluttering of her cheeks was rewarded by a subtly sweet pre-cum emission on her swirling tongue just before Ollie paused, briefly.

In a kind of slow-motion dance, Jay backed off, giving Paige's buttocks a playful slap, as Ollie withdrew from her oral cavity and glided around to smoothly slide into Paige's still pulsating pussy.

After that, a sort of erotic mayhem erupted. One of them—they must have been on their second time around—took her roughly, deeply in the mouth. She never saw who it was, but she could taste the remnants of the slick of love-juices coating him as he drove in. When he came, abruptly, deep down her throat, she came, too, so intensely she needed to be held up.

Marcus stood off to the side, watching and commenting, as his buddies fucked her, his date, repeatedly. And while none was as well-endowed as Marcus, Paige was, nevertheless, carried ecstatically from orgasm to orgasm, over and over—a steady stream of hard-ons, poking her—pussy and mouth—punctuated by her own climaxes.

"Hey, will ya kook at that creampie?" one of the boys observed, during a brief lull in the activity. Semen bubbled around Paige's vagina and dripped down her inner thighs.

"Looks good enough to eat!" a voice added sarcastically.

"I'd eat it," a third voice piped up. "In a heartbeat."

"Right, Darren. You're so full of bullshit!"

"Sure I would! Wanna bet?"

With a flurry of bets and counter-bets, dares and counter-dares, Paige found herself being flipped back onto her back, her legs spread. "The bastards haven't even consulted me," she thought, but her, as yet unvoiced, complaint was interrupted by someone—apparently Darren, diving between her legs and corralling her thighs.

Pulling his face in tight against Paige's sodden snatch, his cheeks slick against her inner thighs, his stubble brushing her tenders, Darren set to eating her in earnest. Lapping his tongue along her furrow, he actively and ravenously slurped up the viscous deposits—mixed semen diluted with feminine nectar.

The ensuing blast of arousal rocketed up Paige's spine, ricocheting around her brain, overwhelming her senses, yet again, while cheers and jeers and whoops of the boys melded into the background; simply white noise cushioning the sensuous lapping and slurping emanating through her sopping bush from her own crotch. Darren swirled her clit, sucking it whole into his mouth, then nipping and nibbling her lips with his teeth, as she struggled to stifle her squirming and bouncing which threatened to unseat him. Paige's hands found a resting place on her own breasts, and she began, almost unconsciously, kneading her tits, pinching and pulling her nipples. Her arousal grew exponentially, arcing from her pussy like a van de Graf generator. Her fingers twiddling her buds accented the erotic stimuli like glitter. Just as Darren licked up the last traces of cum, Paige's orgasm hit in a tsunami of sensation, her thighs alternately trembling and squeezing.

Pulling back, his face glistening, Darren stroked his fingers gently, up and over Paige's quivering sex, causing her to further shudder and quake to echoes of her climax.

"Attention, everyone," Marcus called, in the break. "My cousin—our Paige's best friend's boyfriend, opened up her dirt-chute yesterday, so, I'm happy to announce that her lovely ass is available." Paige barely heard him, still coming off her incredible high, as she was; however, her randy stable was quick to attend to the perceived deficit.

Logan wasted no time ramming his hard-on up her ass. He hadn't ever had much sodomy, and was eager. It didn't take long, Paige on her knees, rocking her ass back to meet his every thrust, while sucking one dick and jacking another, to the same beat. With an inarticulate howl, Logan emptied his balls deep in her bowels.

Tony virtually tossed Logan out of the way in his rush to tap Paige's ass. Lining himself up, he shoved hard against her rosebud, but, after the initial pop, he was surprised at the resistance he encountered, especially considering he was taking 'sloppy seconds.'

"Owww!" Paige complained, "Slow down, fer cryin' out loud! Be gentle!"

"Yeah. You know—'Slow but sure...,' and all that," Logan advised, with a chuckle, as he tossed Tony a bottle of lube.

It didn't take long after that for whole gang to explore anal intercourse and combinations of double penetration. "Hey! Let's spit her, what? You know, DP her—ass and mouth." Paige passively allowed herself to be manhandled like a blow-up doll, as the next two synchronized their stabbing insertions. Her conscious awareness was in danger of being swamped in the wake of her erotic over-stimulation. So intense were the waves of ecstasy, that she hardly noticed anything else.

When the two cocks came simultaneously, it was as if the hot fluid injections penetrated deep enough to splash together in the centre of her very being. She didn't even notice when a voice yelled, "Switch ends!" but, fortunately someone did.

Marcus, playing the part of referee, gave a loud shout. "Don't be so uncouth, Jay," he reprimanded, adding, so that the others could hear, "Wash yourselves off when you come out of her ass—before going in anywhere else."

When they'd tired of that position, someone squirmed beneath her and pulled her from all fours into cowgirl smoothly sliding her momentarily neglected pussy onto his standing pole, calling out for someone to take her up the bum—for a lark. In an effort to one-up each other, the next couple cocksmen went for a bottom-holes DP standing.

By this time Paige was starting to show signs of exhaustion—definitely on her reserve tank, as it were. Sandwiched between the teammates, she hung limply from their two pegs—arms around the neck of one, her feet not touching the ground, she let them do all the work, bouncing her from her hips. Her head flopped about like a ragdoll. She raised her feet to lock them over the ass of the fellow in front, laying her head on his shoulder, and began tilting her pelvis in time to their ragged rhythm. It was novel—even, in its own way, wonderful, but she knew there was no way she could muster the energy to have another climax.

Every one of them was flagging, but someone, still enthusiastic, still, cheery and eager, suggested, "Let's see if our lovely slut can do us, all five, together, for a sort of Grand Finale." It was Tony.

"How's that?" another queried. "She's only got three holes." Paige was far too tired to be upset at the way they were objectifying her—speaking as if she weren't even there.

"Three holes and two hands! And I call pussy!" He lay back on the bed and, with assistance positioned Paige over himself. His own stroking had got him semi-erect. Enough to push into Paige's dripping box as she lowered herself onto him. In a sort of slo-mo flurry, someone stabbed into her ass, while someone else hooked fingers under her jaw and pulled her mouth onto his bobbing prick, making her airtight, and, thus, supporting her upper body. Her hands were taken and placed on the two remaining schlongs. Marcus remained in the background, watching as his buddies took up a rather chaotic, shuffling motion. Barely coherent, herself, Paige felt like she was running on empty.

For a while, the whole thing seemed like a lost cause, but, finally, Tony, lying underneath, stuffing Paige's pussy with his man-meat, groaned, "Oh! Oh! I'm c-o-o-oming!" Spasmodically bouncing his hips, he fired a last salvo into Paige's quivering twat. His orgasm set off a chain-reaction, and the rest followed, cumming in fairly short order, the hand-jobs being last.

As the gangbang—the one-woman orgy—wound down, Paige idly figured they must have cum at least three, maybe four, times each. Over the course of the afternoon, she had never ceased to be amazed at the persistent, consistently unbelievably high level of arousal she maintained, continually threatening to overwhelm her very sanity. And during the—whatever—ordeal? commotion? fornication? Paige herself had had innumerable orgasms—big ones, little ones, short sharp ones, long rolling ones, clitoral, vaginal, whole body, out-of-body. She felt, once again, a tingle from her toes to her eyebrows just recalling the orgasmic variety, vaguely aware of the boys moving wraith-like about the room, picking up and putting on discarded articles of clothing, while muttering indistinctly, and softly laughing.

Then, a hush descended on the room as the door closed. It struck her that no one had said 'Thank you', though she wasn't really sure whether it should have been the boys thanking her or vice versa. Filled with inertia, Paige finally summoned the energy to open her eyes. Marcus sat alone, watching her, a smug grin curving his lips. Standing and approaching the bed, he whispered, "I promised I'd be first and last..." Kneeling beside her, he leaned over and kissed her passionately on the lips.

Marcus took her incredibly slowly and gently—more sensuously than she thought possible. Her nerve endings still tingled from the incredible over-stimulation of the afternoon's activities—the amorphous buzzing of residual arousal, filling her being, fueled her recovery. If she was just burning fumes, she was, nonetheless, still burning, and the languid sex they shared was not simply fornicating. It was more like making love than just making out. Paige smiled inwardly at the reference to love, knowing it was only an illusion—a temporary delusion.

Regardless of the emotional content—real or perceived—Paige could feel Marcus getting bigger and stiffer as he fought to control his thrusts. And she could feel his arousal igniting her own, yet again. Unbelievably, they climbed together, thrust for thrust, towards climax. Gradually gathering speed, rocking and relaxing, their ragged, breaths puffing in counterpoint to the creaking and squeaking of the bedsprings, they fucked steadily, peaking as one, in a stupendous shared orgasm. Lying under him, relishing his warmth and weight while their heartrates slowly calmed, Paige had a hard time believing that she had just been the subject of a real, live gangbang.

Luxuriating in a glowing sense of satisfaction greater than any she had previously known, Paige was so mellow she could barely muster the will to move. Gathering and donning her clothes in a trance, she was already anticipating their next meeting—their next tryst. Blinded by the intense enjoyment, Paige chose not to recognize that, despite his actually fucking her, Marcus's behaviour for most of the afternoon was strangely aloof, and, indeed, pretty much defined him as a voyeur. Snuggling into his shoulder on the taxi-ride home, she asked, "When can I see you again?"

"Fucked if I know." His coarse, dismissive response tore through her contentment like a knife. "We're in practice and games Monday and Tuesday, and heading out on the team bus first thing Wednesday morning. Don't know that we'll ever be through here again." The flippant, nonchalance of his statement sank like a stone in her gut. Dropping her off at her driveway, Marcus gave her a quick peck on the cheek, and muttered, "It's been a slice." Then he was gone.

Wounded and stunned, Paige immediately texted Connie to complain about how beastly Marcus was. His casual indifference had cut Paige to the quick. "I mean," she sputtered aloud as she tapped out a message to Connie. "How blatantly insincere! 'It's been a slice.' Gimme a fucking break!" Paige could feel the tears well up in her eyes, as she stood, head down, trying to finish before she dripped tears onto her phone. "Is that all it was?" she veritably screamed.

Connie knew her friend was crying—knew that she needed to vent. "Put your cell on vibrate. I'll call you tonight, after 'bedtime'. We've gotta talk."

Locking herself in her bedroom, Paige answered first buzz, but, curiously enough, the debriefing dispensed with Marcus right away—"What a jerk!"—to focus totally on the afternoon's sexual experiences. Paige and Connie chattered and giggled late into the night, until their cells beeped 'low battery'. Paige found it cathartic to confide in Connie, her best bud. She described the whole experience, reliving the excitement; detailing arousal and climaxes.

Suddenly serious again, she asked, "Is that normal?"

Connie raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"All that arousal..., and ecstasy..., and orgasms?"

Amazed, and titillated, Connie's initial response was surprising. "No, I don't think so." Her voice dropped conspiratorially, "It sounds pretty fucking special to me —no pun intended!"

"I know," Paige pointed out, almost to herself, heaving a heavy sigh—whether in relief or resignation. "Everybody's always said how great sex was, but I never, in my wildest dreams, imagined it could be so wonderful. Geez, if I'd had even an inkling, I would've given up my virginity ages ago!" She allowed herself a wry smile at that realization. Connie wondered, idly, if she had inadvertently created a monster. Then a horrible thought occurred to her. "Omigod!" she exclaimed, with a sudden, dreadful realization. "Did anyone use a condom?" although Paige's unconcerned negative response was puzzling, Connie whispered, "What if you get pregnant."

"Serendipitously," Paige sighed, "Mom took me to the doctor about my cramps, last week, and the Doc started me on birth control pills to help with the pain, and regulate my periods." She could hear Connie's relieved sigh. "Good timing, eh?"

As the following week began Paige felt a dull, ache—like the ghost pain one might suffer with an amputated limb; an almost profound feeling a loss. But not the loss of her virginity, rather the loss of an avenue for follow-up experience, the loss of the opportunity to further her accelerated sexual education. Wednesday evening Connie invited Paige over to vent some more—to gossip and commiserate. As expected, Paige whined in frustration, mainly, to start, about Marcus not only being gone, but basically informing her he wouldn't be coming back—period. But even a BFF can get tired of complaining. Connie finally snapped, "Oh, God. Get over it! You're just horny—and we can definitely do something about that."

"Get undressed." Connie, bouncing impatiently on the bed, began to disrobe.

"What?"

"Wait a minute...?" Paige whispered. "I'm not a lesbian."

"Of course you're not, silly," Connie chided. "You pretty much proved that last weekend. But a little masturbation—solo or mutual—can relieve the hornies, and a little Sapphic love works even better!" With that Connie pulled at Page's clothing, to sort of kick-start her best bud.

When they were both down to their underwear—panties and bras—Connie took Paige's cheeks in hand and surprised her with a powerful and persistently passionate kiss. As shocked as she was, Paige found herself returning the kiss with equal passion. Holding each other tight in the smooch, they were suddenly sucking face like long-time lovers. Connie's hands gradually loosened their grip on Paige's jaw and dropped so slowly it was like they were trying not to be noticed, until they got caught up in Paige's bra strap. Still kissing madly, Paige felt her friend undo her bra. She figured out what was up and followed suit. Having undone one another's bras, they both shimmied their arms out without breaking their lip-lock. Paige followed Connie's lead, not realizing it was new to her as well, and they each took hold of the other's breasts, proceeding to grab and grope, flicking and pinching nipples, marveling at how the heat and firmness of the boobs increased with arousal—how the nipples stiffened and stood up under manipulation.

And, oh, how arousing it all became. It was Connie who, first, guided her bestie's mouth down from her own to catch on one of her nipples. Paige, who instinctually knew what to do, began suckling—sucking and nibbling, licking and biting; going back and forth, one side to the other and back, palming and fingering the other with her free hand. "Mmmm! Mmmm!" Paige mewled, punctuating her humming with ecstatic squeaks.