Poly at the Poly Pt. 09

She took a deep, cleansing breath.

"This one's for me," Cassie said, almost to herself.

She slowly lowered herself down on my dick. Cassie let out a long, slow hiss as it slid inside her. Inching its way as deep as it could go. I groaned as I felt her wonderful warmth surround me.

Before now, I hadn't spent a lot of time ruminating on the different vaginas I'd experienced in my lifetime. Pussy was pussy, amazing enough on its own. But having sunk into three very different ones in such short succession over the last five days had given me a lot of evidence to evaluate.

My wife was so compact, it felt like my cock had to be twisted into her. Like it was a lightbulb. Meanwhile, Allison's pussy, like herself, was powerful. It wasn't the tightest, but she could squeeze and ripple in a way that was entrancing. Cassie, on the other hand, was simply soaked. She got so slick and slippery; it was like screwing a water slide filled with Vasoline. We'd just connected and already I could feel her wetness dripping over my balls.

"God Paul. Feel so good," Cassie said, "So thick. I swear it's like, I can feel my little pussy molding itself to fit you. Like it'll never be the same."

"I don't think that's how it works," I said.

"I know that," Cassie said, "It's just fun to picture."

The beautiful blonde began sliding back and forth on my cock. Humping, yes, but not thrusting. Sort of slipping around as she ground her clit into my pubic bone.

"Think about it Paul," Cassie said, "Your awesome cock thrusting into me. Shaping me. Ruining me for other men. I'll never be able to get away from this. How perfect you stretch me out."

She rocked faster. I could tell she was building. The little hitch in her smile was coming out again. The sign that she was close to cumming.

"I'll be back home. After you leave. Going to work. Meeting friends for drinks. And all I'll be able to do is fantasize about you being with me. I'll be with Jack. With my husband. Thinking about your cock. Wishing for it. Begging. Thrusting in me. Filling me so good. Oh guh... Oh GOD!"

Cassie shivered and fell forward. I don't think she anticipated cumming right then. But there she was. Right over the top. Cassie stayed in that position. Hands on the mattress. Tits dragging over my chest. She started humping harder. Having my cock bent that way, it didn't feel good, exactly. But I was going to let her get off however she wanted.

"I love your cock, Paul," Cassie said, "I need it. Luh-love you fucking me. How good it feels. You made me cum, Paul. You made me CUM. Harder and better than any man I've ever been with."

Cassie blew her blonde hair out of her eyes. Her face was bright red. Her chest slick with sweat. She thrust herself on my dick with a wild abandon.

"Look at me, Paul," Cassie continued, "Getting fucked in my own bed by another man. Begging for his cum. It feels so good.

Cassie shivered, and I thought she was going over the top again. But she shook it off and kept pounding onto me. Wet slaps and rude squeaks.

"I never squirted before," she said, "You made it look easy. You fucked me. Owned me. Oh. AHHHHH! Oh fuck. Fuck me. Make me cuh... Make me CUM!"

Cassie ripped herself off my cock. A huge gush of girl cum spurted out of her, onto my chest. "Oh fuck! You fucking... Fucking broke me." She looked at the wet mess she'd made on my chest and snickered. "Fucking hell."

My cock flopped around, neglected. After all the orgasms I'd had, you'd think I would be done. But no, my dick was already demanding that Cassie get back on there and ride him out.

"Phew," Cassie said, "Getting tired. Your turn."

She rolled onto her back and raised her legs, like before. I took my cock and aimed it, then thrust forward. Cassie squeezed her arms and legs around me. Surrendering herself to me in every way.

I drove into Cassie, hard. It no longer took any skill or effort to make Cassie cum. She was so amped, it was overflowing unbidden. Her pussy squeezed down with almost every thrust. Her eyes permanently rolled back in her head.

Cassie raised her head for a sloppy kiss, and I let her. I slowed my motions, dragging my dick in and out. Savoring every centimeter. She felt so tight on me now, I knew she was feeling the ridge of my cockhead teasing at her nerve endings. Every bump and vein on my dick.

Cassie fell back. Her eyes got small. Scared.

"I don't want to stop, Paul," Cassie said, "I'm sorry. I don't think I can. Tell me. Tell me you can stop?"

I didn't answer her. I didn't know how. But I didn't stop fucking her, either.

"I can make babies, too, Paul," Cassie said, "Beautiful children with golden hair and intense black eyes so deep you could drown in them. I'd do that for you. If you let me."

I sped up my stroked. Added a little kick to the end of each thrust. Popping Cassie hard. She gasped as I stabbed forward. Eyes squeezed shut.

I grabbed Cassie's shoulders for purchase. Shifted my angle. Started rutting into her crazed. Out of control.

"Cum with me," Cassie said, "I'm getting close. I need you to... Fill me up. Cum in my married pussy. Deep as you can go. Mark me. Please. Please cum in meeeeeheeeheeee!"

My pace only increased. Cassie's mewling cries, her pleading sobs. They shoved me forward. The beautiful blonde grabbed my face. Forced me to look in her eyes.

I watched, enthralled, as the azure of them intensified. Pupil shrinking to a pinprick. A focused beam of endless desire, boundless hope, and utter devotion. I swear I could see Cassie's orgasm creep up her breasts, twisting her nipples tight, pulling her neck taut, stretching her smile, and then, finally, squeezing her eyes shut.

Cassie's pussy clamped down. Her butt arched upwards. Like she was milking my dick for all it was worth. And finally, the essence she so deeply craved spilled forth.

I buried my dick as deep as it would go. Let out a loud, pained shout. And exploded into Cassie's wanting depths.

"Ohhhhhhh FUCK!" Cassie yelped. "Oh God. So GOOD! Cumming. ohfuck. Cumming in me. Fuck. I can feel it. Filling me. So hot. Oh yes."

As Cassie's cunt cinched tight on my dick, her body wrapped around me in the same way. She held me tight, shaking. Screaming.

My stream of sperm felt impossibly strong. Like it could burst down a wall, let alone Cassie's poor battered cervix. It wasn't like before; that edged out orgasm had been another animal entirely. But in so many ways this was so much better.

Feeling Cassie wrapped around me. The warmth of her pussy squeezing me dry. Her own orgasm surrounding and amplifying mine.

"Got you, Cassie. I got you," I said. Just nonsense as I drifted back to Earth.

"I know," she said. Whined. "Oh God. It's yours. My pussy. My heart. Only for you."

I kissed her forehead. Held her tight.

Cassie. Fucking. Summers.

*

At 7am on a Tuesday morning, we six adults filed into the terminal at Orlando International Airport, disheveled and limping exhausted. Blissed out and ragged like we'd just finished a five-day opium binge.

Despite the early hour, the terminal was bustling -- filled with the echoes of footsteps, the squeaks of suitcase wheels, and the low roar of conversation. We passed multiple families headed in the opposite direction, their faces glowing as they got ready to start their epic Disney adventures. I'll admit, I watched them pass with a mix of apprehension and envy.

Emily clung to me like she was a koala, and I was the world's best eucalyptus. She'd been hanging on tight since that morning. It made walking difficult (honestly, it was already hard -- I felt like I'd run a marathon while boxing both Klitschko brothers for five successive days), but Emily refused to let go.

Jack and Cassie, on the other hand, strode along with the casual professionalism of seasoned travelers. Mike and Allison, on their far side, held hands. But it looked more like a court-ordered affection than anything truly felt.

We went to the McDonalds in the food court to get breakfast. Apparently, that was as much a part of the tradition for Mike and Allison as riding Pirates or eating Mickey-shaped ice cream.

As we crowded around our table, Mike rested his hand on Emily's thigh. My wife gave him an angry glare. Allison straight up hissed at her husband. Mike pulled his hand back like he'd been singed. Well, if I had any doubt that our trip was truly over, that answered things for sure.

"Sorry," he said, all parts the petulant teenager.

After we ate, we went through security. Then we all got on the tram, grabbing for separate poles. Me with Emily. Mike with Allison. Jack with Cassie. Other people stepping on would have thought we were all strangers.

Emily stared up at me, her green eyes bright and searching. She looked so innocent in her dark-rimmed glasses, wearing a purple Minnie shirt and denim shorts. Brown hair up in a bun. I noticed a bit of cum was crusted on her cheek. I reached over, gently, and rubbed it off.

My mind flashed back, unbidden, to that morning. I'd stumbled out of Cassie's bedroom to find Emily sitting on the couch, fully dressed in her outfit from the day before. Beams of dusty sunlight streamed over her. She'd seen where I'd come from and, for some strange reason, I felt guilty. Emily gave me a tight grin. I sat down next to her, covering my crotch with a pillow.

"You OK?" I asked. Emily gave me a confused look. "After last night," I said. She blushed.

"Fine," Emily said, "Better than fine. You?"

"I'm OK," I said.

"It's amazing, Paul," Emily said, "Everything we've been through. Yet I feel closer to you now than I ever have."

"You do," I said.

Emily latched onto me, hard. I almost jumped. She'd pounced on me like the unholy mix of a cat and a boa constrictor.

"Definitely," Emily said, her lips tickling my ear. "What happened with Jack yesterday..."

I braced for it.

"... It was like a cleanse. Or, I don't know, penicillin. This whole trip, I've felt like I was being consumed by this all-encompassing need. Like a disease that had taken hold of me. But after last night. After the, um, the stuff we did. We were lying together on the floor, and I realized that urge had disappeared. Like I'd finally sweated out the fever, and it was... Gone. The urges, all of it. Even looking back now, none of it really makes sense to me. Like that was a different person. I'm not saying I didn't make those choices. I know I did. But, at the same time, I can honestly say that it wasn't me. And I have no intention of ever doing that again."

I raised my eyebrow.

"I mean it, Paul," Emily said, "I'm over him. Over all of this. I couldn't be more over it, honestly. Whatever happened last night snapped me out of it. Lying in your arms, that's all I want."

"So why did you go away?" I asked. I couldn't stop myself. "I heard you in the bedroom."

Emily gave me a confused look. "I slept by myself last night. I woke up in the middle of the night, hurting like hell. I tried to get you up, but it was like rousing a bear. So, I slipped away and passed out."

I thought back to what I'd heard behind the closed door. To be fair, Cassie had never explicitly told me where Emily had gone. I'd made assumptions, but I didn't know anything for sure. Those sounds could have been Allison, I supposed. It didn't add up, but I couldn't completely disprove what Emily had told me, either.

"What about with Mike?" I asked, "The things you said. Flashing him in the parks. The, um, oral."

Emily's face grew very serious. "Are you honestly going to tell me I saw everything that went on with you this whole trip?" She looked pointedly over my shoulder; at the bedroom I'd slipped out of that morning.

I thought back. Had there been moments that Emily missed? Yes, there'd been sex with Cassie the night before. And a few makeout sessions with Allison. I guess I felt like I'd shared every secret with my wife. But, of course, that couldn't be true. I could only narrate my own story, after all. Her perspective had to be different. But I couldn't stop the sense of something more from irking at me.

"None of that stuff matters," Emily said, squeezing me firmly. "I don't care what you did. Whatever happened, it's forgiven. Forgotten. We both lost control this weekend. But it's us going forward. You and me. And soon, baby, too."

I nodded. A little smile forced its way onto my face.

"Trust me, I'm done," Emily said, "So, so done. Extra super over it. Over Jack, over the sharing... The whole thing. I just want to go home, be with my husband, and have a family. For real. I promise. It's done done."

*

When we got off the tram, Mike, Allison, Emily and I turned left, but Jack started to go right.

"Our flight's later," Cassie said, grabbing Jack's arm. "We'll come wait with you guys."

Jack looked at her, incredulous. Like his wife had announced she wanted to take a cactus bath. He extricated his arm from Cassie. In a mirror of the first time we met him, Jack gave us all quick, curt handshakes. He didn't say anything. Even the cold fire of his ice blue eyes seemed quenched.

As Jack shook my hand, I noticed something about him. The look on his face, the slight twist to his mouth. He didn't seem assured anymore. Or, if he did, he looked like he was trying too hard to convince me of it. Instead, his expression told me something different.

At first, I couldn't figure out what it was. But then I realized: he was sad.

I thought about everything I knew about Jack. Had I ever, truly, seen him look happy? Meeting us for the first time, he'd done everything he could to project a feeling of confidence. Whenever feelings showed up, he brushed them away. Even when his family had melted down before our eyes -- his kids storming off to who-knows-where, maybe to never speak to him again -- Jack had made it clear that it couldn't touch him. Instead, he'd only thrown himself back into the fray.

At the time, I'd assumed that Jack was just a cool customer. Too 'over it all' to ever be hurt by things. Now, looking into those grey-blue eyes, I recognized that he was just numb. He was an addict, looking for that next hit to keep him going. Only his body had stopped responding to the highs.

I guess I was supposed to concede that Jack had 'won.' He'd conquered my wife, reconfigured my marriage, done everything he could to rip the veil of innocence from our eyes and expose us to the ugly truths of our animal desires. But like the contestant on Let's Make A Deal who opens door number two and finds nothing but a goat chewing on a piece of grass, I couldn't exactly see how Jack was the winner here.

He was going home to be alone again. His only comfort anger and regret. His hot wife, his successful business, his next conquest -- Jack had all the trophies. But he'd yet to figure out how to sate the monster of misery that was inexorably consuming his soul. He never would. Not even with a cadre of genies carrying fistfuls of wishes along the way.

I could acknowledge that I resented Jack. As much as I'd been a willing participant, even an instigator at times, I'd never forgive him for how he'd taken advantage of our innocence. But I also knew, with perfect clarity, that I didn't envy him. Not even a little bit.

Jack let go of my hand, then clapped Emily on the shoulder. After all that they'd shared, he gave her nothing more than a nod.

"It's been lovely," Jack said.

He turned the other way and limped down the hall. Looking more and more like a tiny, decrepit man as he faded into the crowd. Lost amongst the infinite number.

I turned to look at Emily, expecting that devoted, pining look as her eyes chased after her lover. Instead, my wife's attention was already elsewhere. What she'd told me that morning about her and Jack, I guessed she'd meant it.

The five of us strolled over to our gate, then found seats. Allison and Mike sat across from us while Cassie and Emily flanked me on either side. My wife gripped my arm so hard, my fingers were starting to go numb.

"I'm going to get something from the Starbucks," Allison said, "You want anything?"

I realized the question had been directed at me. I nodded, carefully extricating myself from Emily. Allison strode off with purpose, a lioness heading to the hunt. I felt like it took me two steps to match her one. We got in line for coffee, a wait longer than security, and settled there.

I glanced back at our group. After five days of this, I was unable to control my continuous suspicion that illicit activities would occur on as soon as I stopped paying attention. But my well-honed paranoia was now misplaced.

Mike buried his nose in his phone. Emily rooted through our carry-on and pulled out a sweater. Cassie chatted idly with them both. You know, like normal human beings rather than the sex-crazed maniacs we'd all devolved into.

I looked back at Allison. She was glaring somewhere distant. The muscles around her jaw were tight, like tripwire.

"You OK?" I asked, genuinely concerned.

"Fine," Allison said, "Sorry. I've got some things to think about. This weekend was a lot."

"It was," I said, "But I don't regret what we shared. I hope you know how much it meant to me. How much it continues to mean to me."

I waited for Allison to count my words off on her fingers. I thought for sure she'd be celebrating a new record. Instead, she worked her teeth like she was rolling a jawbreaker between them.

"It was important to me too," Allison said. She glanced meaningfully over at her husband. I got the sense she was trying to tell me something, but I couldn't read it. "To everyone, clearly. I guess I'm still trying to work it all out."

I nodded. I wasn't sure what else there was to say.

"You and Emily are alright?" Allison asked, finally turning my way.

"We're figuring it out," I said, surprised at how easily the honesty came to my lips. "She says she's over it all. Wants to move forward, but... I guess we'll see. You and Mike?"

"Like I said," Allison said, looking gloomy, "This weekend was a lot. I thought I had it all handled. Now I'm not so sure."

"I know what you mean," I said.

"You and I will still be friends though, right? Regardless?"

"I don't know how we could be anything else," I said.

It was meant to be reassuring, but I saw that what I said set Allison off again. Was it possible to be too connected? Maybe there's a point where there are so many wires plugged in, you can't untangle them. Or worse, you blow the whole line.

"I know Emily feels the same way," I said, trying to recover. "Your friendship means the world to us both."

"Yes," Allison said, clearly distracted by her own train of thought. "Emily and you. Me and Mike. Friends."

"Speaking of which," I said, unable to quell my curiosity, "I don't suppose you noticed our spouses together last night?"

"Um, yeah, Paul?" Allison's attention snapped right to me. "We all saw them on the couch, remember?"

"No, I mean. After."

Allison took in a deep breath. Her eyes wandered around the terminal. "Honestly, after that last big blowout, I kinda wandered off," she said, "I collapsed somewhere, I don't even know. I'm not sure I remember much of anything clearly."

I nodded, like that was an answer. But before I could push her further, Allison was at the counter and ordering. The moment was gone.

We walked back to our group, laden with steaming hot cups. The rest of the group had distracted themselves well. Even Cassie had gone quiet. It seemed as if we weren't using our mouths to make out, we had little use for them.

As soon as we sat down again, however, Mike leaned forward. He looked like a little boy, so excited to share something that he was about to burst.

"I've gotta tell you guys," Mike said, "The more I think about it, the more this trip in March seems like a great idea. Coming back to Disney. Seeing all of you. It would be awesome."