The Cocktail Table

I knew that the bulge of my mons veneris was pronounced and apparent to the gawking looks of my audience. Eventually, I was able to position the heel of my foot right into the crotch of my panties, and when I exerted some pressure inwards, I could feel my labia spread inside my satin panties. Now the blunt hard heel was pressed right into the nub of my clitoris. Yes, that felt fantastic. In this room full of masturbating partiers, I was the last to actually touch myself. Precariously balanced on one foot, I massaged my whole cunt with this other foot. My juices mixed with the satin, making a slick lubricant.

I couldn't keep that position for long, so I let my foot down to the table and kicked my dress out of the way. I then pulled my panties down my legs and picked them up. Leaning over the edge of the table, I pressed my damp, aromatic panties into the face of each of the men, letting them smell and feel the lusty moisture that saturated the satin. The last man in the line was Tim, and he took the panties from my hand, and pulled the crotch band away from the rest. He put just the crotch between his lips and chewed and sucked the sweet nectar into his mouth. That was so sexy that I shuddered, watching him.

I was naked.

The men were still pumping up and down on their steel-hard cocks, and the women were rubbing their clits harder. Everyone was breathing hard, and again, I warned them, "Hold off on your cumming. If anyone has a premature orgasm, he or she will have to leave the room."

Nobody wanted to miss anything, and I could see several people slacken the pace of their masturbating. Facing the men, I squatted down on the table and began to stimulate my own clit. But my legs were tired, so I laid myself down on the covered coffee table.

On my right was the line of 6 men, but all I could really see were their beautiful cocks about a foot higher than my reclining body. On my left were the women strung out like beads on a necklace, starting above my head and queued down to my feet. Their open cunts were even with my body, and when I looked toward them, I was looking right up into their cunts. Everyone was so close. Their sexual organs were so red, so wet, so engorged with blood.

MY calves were hooked over the sides of the table leaving me spread open wide for all to see. I took the index and middle fingers of my left hand and used them to spread my labia wide. The large bump of my clitoral hood was the lone pinnacle in the wet flatlands between my fingers. And my clitoris was poking out from its protective shield, looking for a friendly finger. My right hand slid down from my breasts, and I used my middle finger to tease my clit up and down, then back and forth. I might have been the last to start pleasuring myself, but I made up for the lost time quickly.

"Gather closer, you cock-strokers," I ordered the men. They moved in, so that their knees were bumping up against my right side. Their cocks were extended right over my writhing body. The women on my left leaned forward so that they could see more closely how their men were masturbating.

Some of the men pumped straight up and down, and others used a sort of twisting motion. One guy was using the palms of both hands, as if he was making a snake out of clay. Another was pinching his nipples with his free hand. A couple of the men were fondling their balls. Some of the men were using saliva to lubricate their hands, either by drooling onto their cocks, or spitting into their palms. Others had so much precum that their saliva wasn't necessary.

Tim had the largest cock in the group, and he had both of his hands on his cock, one pumping and pulsing on the lubricated crown, and the other pistoning up and down on the rest of the shaft.

The women too had varying techniques, I noticed. One woman had her three middle fingers deeply embedded into her vagina, while her palm squashed down onto her mons, stimulating her clitoris. A couple of women were employing the technique that I was using. One of them was flicking her finger over her clitoris so quickly that her motions were a blur. One woman was pinching her nipples extremely hard, and pulling them way out from her huge breasts. That would hurt me, but she was obviously enjoying it. Jill had her cunt the closest to my face, and I could smell her flowing juices. She wasn't rubbing her clitoris at all. Instead, she was using her index finger to hook into the entrance of her vagina, where she had found her G spot. She was getting incredible satisfaction from stoking that sensitive little bulge hidden inside her cunt.

I was getting close, and my muscles were vibrating with excitement and anticipation. It was time for the countdown.

I told everyone, "Start to build up to your orgasm, cause I want us all to cum at the same time.... Five...."

After a brief pause, "Four..., ladies, spread your thighs wide so that we can all see."

Another pause, "Three.... Men, thrust your hips forwards so that we can see your throbbing hunks of solid man-flesh."

My body was twitching now. "Two... You can all be so proud of your prowess, your natural beauty, and your sexual awareness."

My cunt felt like it might erupt any moment. Letting them all hear the sexy need in my voice, I gasped out, "One.... Everyone! Show us if you are really here, really involved, really ready!"

I cried, "Blastoff!"

Suddenly the room was full of sound, the sound of 13 simultaneous climaxes. Whimpers, grunts, ragged breathing, tight little screams, Tarzan-like hollers, shrill squeals, full-moon howls.... all mixed into a symphony of ecstasy. Faces contorted by mind-blowing orgasms.

The semen shooting out of six hard cocks, splattering onto my face, my breasts, my stomach, my churning fingers, my thighs! Blasts of cum arching over me and onto the faces of the women on my left. Onto heaving breasts and big gumdrop nipples. Dripping in stringy dollops from nipples into the hot foaming cunts, intermingling with the pungent cunt juices. Pearly semen spewing onto the pearls of my necklace (maybe this is what fake pearls are made from!)

Covered with hot, fragrant semen, I asked, "Will some of you ladies help me clean up?" I expected that they would use their fingers to scoop up the cum. But they were not strangers to sapphic love. They all got on their knees around the table and licked all the sticky stuff off of me, lapping up every ropey strand. My post-orgasmic bliss was extended by the light stimulation of six tongues rasping over my nipples, lapping into my navel, and kissing through my cunt hair.

The men massaged the shoulders of the cat-like women, and they talked about how original and exotic this group masturbation had been. It turned out that they thought they had tried everything in their group, but they had never watched each other just masturbate. It had been most enlightening to see exactly how all the other members of the group choose to stimulate themselves. There were so many ways to do it.

Eventually, everyone was getting dressed to go home, transforming themselves back into their nerdy scientist personae. I remained splayed out on the coffee table (or should I call it the "cock-tail table"). I could still feel the coolness on my skin where the remaining bits of semen and saliva were drying. What a night! How was I going to have the energy to drive home? Perhaps Jill and Tim would put me up for the night. I was sure that we could think of some good ways to pass the time.