Palisades Pool Party

I saw that there are several specialist men, as well, showing off the largest, thickest cocks anyone had seen outside of speciality films, and several party goers were sampling or watching others sampling these extraordinary endowments.

It was a bliss like only the bliss of being at the finest spa to exist in the world since Roman times.

I wandered into the house to find a vacant couch or bed to "rest my eyes for a second." I felt so wonderfully, happily drained by those ladies, body and soul. I was on a cloud. It felt like the best massage, and the best chiropracty, anyone ever felt, all at once. There was an unoccupied bed in a downstairs guest room, but when I opened my eyes again, golden hour was over, and Pacific stars were twinkling over this Palisades palace.

Funny, the first thing I saw, after coming out of the bathroom and feeling ready to rejoin the party after my nap, was my date, Christie.

She was in the same room downstairs where I stashed our clothes and stumbled into that double-vaginal sandwich earlier.

But now, hours later, my date Christie was on her knees, still as naked as the last time I saw her, but with all of her makeup gone and her hair starting to frizz.

I heard her before I saw her, because I heard her moaning as if she had a cock in her mouth.

She did.

But, when I came across her, another man was nudging his cock against her cheek, trying to get her attention while she knelt in front of one man, blowing him.

Christie looked up at this new fellow, giving him those searching, submissive, "oh? You want me to serve your dick?" look that as beautiful as she was, made her look vulnerable and valuable and like the greatest place in the world to be was inside her mouth with her eyes looking up at you from her knees.

Christie did not just give this new guy her mouth, when she turned to suck him without complaint or introduction. With that slimy cock fresh from the back of her throat taking a rest against her cheek while Christie entertained this new man, Christie's already-open throat easily accommodated this new fellow's rough play with her.

He works it in deep almost immediately; her eyes are as open and as watery as her lips.

And then his hands are tight on her head and he's pulling this model's skull up and down his dick at her mouth. She's taking it easily but there is lots of excess spit and lots of Christie's loud gurgles and chokes. Then, the other cock there, runs out of patience but not entirely of generosity, and soon Christie's throat is something they are sharing.

Christie's throat is something they are taking turns on.

They alternate. They might be musicians because they are skinny with girthy meat and have great rhythm. One sliding in, then sliding out in perfect time for the other to slide right in.

Christie's jaw muscles must be getting sore for how wide they make her keep her mouth open, and for how long they are taking, savoring this all-natural beauty with all her makeup fucked off.

They pop fairly close together, finishing on Christie's face one after the other.


No makeup, but now plenty of face-cream.

The men lean down, each give her a kiss on her lips, where, strangely, none of the come landed. They head off in one direction, and as Christie gets off her knees, she sees me watching from the far corner of the large room filled now with people fucking in all kinds of debaucherous ways. All combinations, all types of touch and sensation and penetration. Couples, triples, and chains of more. Women underneath men who are themselves getting penetrated by another man, or taking another man's cock in his mouth while his cock is inside a woman whose eyes are fixed and intent on the bisexual play. Women with women, men with women, a room of sounds and sweat and a hundred arousing perfumes and a hundred fine colognes.

She smiles at me, winks, the thick, creamy ejaculate clearly visible on her face. She walks over to me, but before she can cross the room, a large, muscular black man takes her by the waist, and kisses her on her lips.

I recognize him--it's the man whom I thought was fucking Serena Williams earlier. Christie is shocked but not unresponsive to the kiss. She is shocked and electrified when the man breaks the kiss and proceeds to lick up Christie's creamy face, grooming her like a kitten.

Triggering nerve endings and sensations in Christie that are rarely felt, even for the gorgeous and professionally pretty.

I can see my date melting. For the millionth time this afternoon and tonight at this wild Palisades party.

He pulls Christie onto his lap, atop a nearby empty space on a sofa. His large hands caress up Christe's chest, lightly over her breasts, to her shoulders, and then back to her breasts, kneading this time. Kissing her neck, kissing her shoulders. Taking his time to explore her skin, to warm her with his touch.

And when he and she are ready, his fingers slip into her slit, idly, pinching her nipples but giving her lips and the hood of her clit the most gentle of his attention.

But my Christie is needy, and she grinds her hips, finding his cock and feeling it underneath her; feeling with with the lips of her pussy. She splays her legs wantonly, brining her heels up to rest on his knees. Her slit gapes open.

Her eyes are either closed or looking back at him. She has stopped making eye contact with me by now, and seems completely oblivious that many people in the room are now watching her and him together. The contrast in skin tones, the beauty of their bodies, they are a work of art.

He feels how open she is--and then it's almost instant.

Her hips lift up.

Her hips lower back down.

She's now impaled on his thick cock, and everyone in the room can see.

And hear.

He lets out an "oh fuck that's good, bitch," and she's making noise generally. Loud noises. Cumslut noises.

His fingers slit on her clit while her hips are moving her cunt up and down his dick, very, very slowly. He goes from gentle to rough on her clit, and by the time he is pinching the sides and pulling roughly on her, Christie is on her way to screaming, and bouncing, and bucking like the fabled bitch in heat, except she's not a story, she's real, she's my date Christie, and she gives this room a proper climax for the live-sex-show these revelers have just been watching, starring her.

Christie comes but she doesn't stop fucking, and the black cock inside her comes white come, which everyone can see when it slowly seeps out of Christie's tightly-stretched vaginal lips.

People in the room actually applaud.

Christie finds her way back to me, her face still red and blushing.

"Take me, right now," Christie says. "I want to give you my sloppy seconds, baby," Christie says, emphasizing the you, as if the magic of her freshly loved and pleasured pussy deserved to be enjoyed, the sooner the better. "Fuck my slutty pussy," she says, right before I do.

As I do, the orgasm Christie gave the universe a few moments ago begins again, and for the first time at the party I feel my own date's pussy coming on my own cock, after who knows how many and in how many ways she had already came and already loved so far across the hours we have been here.

Christie is released and free in ways and waves such that I have never seen her show before, but it is all natural and flowing as easily as the Pacific waves, out there in the darkness off the coast, far below the Palisade bluff. One orgasm barely has ended, before another begins for Christie. She is like a crystal, conducting and reflecting all the rays of love.

We take a break together for awhile, and then meet up with another couple for a classic same-room partner swap. By then, it is the early hours of the day, and the dark of night will be ending shortly. Only the last of the revelers are left, and unable to locate our hostess, but with everyone in good order, we take French leave, knowing that Luz would never consider it impolite.

Our clothes are where we left them, the convertible parked and undisturbed.

"I saw so many things tonight, beautiful things," Christie tells me. "I saw an exec I never would have suspected--down on his hands and knees, eating a woman out while he was getting his own dick sucked--but the person blowing him was another man, and at the same time as the exec is eating her and getting sucked by him, there's another man behind him, and the exec is taking anal sex from that other man! I had no idea he went that way! And the lady he was going down on was watching him, watching him getting just plowed by this guy behind him, who I think was the husband of a showrunner or something, just plowing the exec from behind. It was cute, but everybody was having a very good time."


Christie says she does not want to wear clothes on the drive back across town. But she is adamant that she does not want me to put the top up on the convertible.

We drive back to her place in Silver Lake, taking long, slow, meandering roads, the night air magic on her skin, especially all of the places where the stains and remembrances of kisses and love lay still on her skin.

She later told me that it was such a magical night, "I can't figure out if it was our sacrifices of love to the gods, or if it was the gods blessing us with the love only they can feel."

The sun comes up just as we get to her block. I pull the car up in front of her house, double-parking in the same place as when I arrived yesterday afternoon. She kisses me on the cheek, thanks me for a lovely time, takes out the wristlet purse she put in my glove box, hours and a lifetime ago.

She hops out of the roadster, bouncing naked but for a wristlet purse with her keys inside, up the steps to the front door of her house. She unlocks the door, half-enters, then turns and waves to me, smiling, gloriously fully-frontally nude to me, and to the empty street of sleeping houses and tightly parked cars.

I wave back and she closes the front door. Then, I drive off, into the magic golden light of another morning dawning over Los Angeles.

THE END.