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When we finally came down, we all just lay there, again exhausted.
Almost like addicts, we repeated this over and over the rest of the day. We would rest for a while, begin gently touching and being touched, move on to more serious stimulation, and end up in an overwhelming orgasm. Only to rest and then begin again. We literally fucked all weekend.
All the while, in the breaks in the action, I was thinking, trying to make sense of all of this. It was strange to me that I could perform multiple times with little refractory time between. It did not used to be that way, but in recent weeks I had noticed that I could climax many times close together. Like the other day when I had four, pretty much back to back. Somehow, sex did not deplete me like it used to. I was not sure what was happening, but something was.
In spite of being more worn out than I could remember, that Monday morning when I had to leave I still wanted to stay and go after it some more. I needed to go, though, and both women needed to get to work as well, so we had nothing more than some tight hugs and kisses good-bye before we all set out on our respective trajectories. I really did not want to leave.
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