First Orgy

Three-way. Menage a trois, FMF, MFM, MFMF, Four-way. Oh, heck, here we are stuck on semantics again. I call them all them an orgy: 3 or more people having sex together simultaneously, and having participated in a dozen or so, I've earned the right to call them what I want. I like the term "orgy," liked it from the first time I ever heard it and what it meant as a kid. I like the word, but I LOVE being in orgies.

Yes, I love them all, but as far as I'm concerned, the more girls in an orgy, the better. It happened that there were three chicks in my very first group sex encounter--my girlfriend Leigh, her roommate Lisa, and another gal down the hall whose name was Pat. It occurred when I hitch-hiked to New Orleans to visit Leigh during Mardi Gras our freshman year in college, February 1978.

It happened in her dorm room and was totally spontaneous. She, Lisa, and I had been out all day partying in the streets and decided to stay in for the evening. "Dinner" was going to be a pan of brownies with half an ounce of strong black hash baked in them.

I was baking them in the oven up on the second floor of the dorm, and had to share the oven with a girl who was warming up a frozen pizza in it. I couldn't leave my wreaking-of-ganga pan, for obvious reasons, so we sat there and chatted for a while. Turns out her dorm room was just a couple doors from my girlfriend's down on the ground floor, and she knew Leigh and Lisa pretty well.

Pat then told me she was that floor's Resident Advisor. Gulp. But she sure didn't seem anything like the RA back at my college dorm in Atlanta, who'd make a Prussian cavalry officer seem comparatively liberal. Her being the RA and already friends with Leigh and Lisa, coupled with the fact that she was a lot of fun and a braless big-boobed cutie wearing nothing but an oversize football jersey and maybe panties, had me inviting Pat back to my GF's dorm room.

We washed down the pizza and brownies with the remainder of a huge bottle of red wine. The roomie got a bottle of prescription Placidyls--the red, round 500 mg ones--from the in-room frij and we each downed several like candy. I noted that Pat consumed not one of these Schedule II sedative-hypnotics, though she was obviously cool about them.

We smoked some of the Afghani black hash from a bong, and a second huge bottle of red wine was cracked open. Our faces smeared, we got out a big bottle of baby oil to remove the colorful face make-up we'd put on that morning. That's when clothes started coming off.

If you've ever been to Mardi Gras, you know that one of the chief objectives is to collect as many beads as possible as they're being hurled at you from the floats. Well, we very well may have been contenders for the most-beads status, as we had collected enough to completely cover the floor of their entire dorm room in strands of beads 3 or 4 inches deep.

Her roomie Lisa had stripped all her clothes off, and covered in baby oil, was squirming about the floor on top of the beads, oooing and aaahing how great it felt. Lisa was a very cute, dark-complexioned brunette, a small-breasted, cinnamon-nippled pixie of a girl with a tiny butt, dark eyes, and a big smile. Her looks and general demeanor said, "Let's fuck!"

Well, Leigh and I were already naked from the waist up from the make-up removing, so we took off our jeans and then flung our panties and under shorts up onto the ceiling light fixture to join with Lisa's already hanging there.

Sitting on the dresser, Pat was laughing, slipped off her panties from beneath the long jersey, and tried over and over to toss them up onto the light. She was in hysterics, and her heaving, jiggling big boobs, still shrouded by the jersey, had me wanting to see them more than ever. I finally got the rebound and "dunked" her panties on the overhead fixture, slipping on the oily beads on the way down and crashing into the nude Leigh and Lisa.

I poured out more oil onto my blonde-haired, blue-eyed girlfriend Leigh, rubbing it over her nice, rigid, pink-nippled C cups, down her sexy tummy, around her athletic buns, slim, muscular legs, and then up into her big, always-wet pussy.

Across the room, I could just barely see the lips of Pat's pussy beneath the navy-blue jersey as she refilled our glasses with wine. Lisa suggested another round of Placidyls, so Pat tossed them across the room into our mouths like sea lions, and we summarily downed them, accompanied by sea mammal sound effects.

Pat was obviously having a good time, but still had the jersey on and was sitting on the fringe of our naked oil party, so I had to get her involved. "Before you get all good and slippery, put Eat A Peach on the turntable, fill up the Gatling Gun bowl on the bong with that black stuff, then bring a lighter and COME ON DOWN," I said, doing my best imitation of the announcer on The Price Is Right.

Pat carried out the tasks, pulled her beautiful long brown hair back into a ponytail with a rubber band, apparently doing so to keep the baby oil out of her hair--a good sign--then waded across the beads, sat down beside us Indian style, and said, "Well, hello," handing the bong to Lisa.

I could now see Pat's lovely brown bush half-concealing her pussy, but she still had on that damned jersey.

I wasted not a moment and pulled the top over her head. Raising her arms straight up, she made it easy. Wow! Give the best-tits-in-New Orleans award to Pat: Extra firm D-cup flesh jutting out and swooping up into dark pink, pointy nipples. Absolutely perfect boobs and dee-licious!

As Lisa gurgled the bong, I poured out a gargantuan volume of baby oil on Pat's chest and massaged her truly magnificent ta-tas while Leigh slathered it over her back and the tops of her fleshy buns. After we each took another bong hit and a few gulps of wine, we're all writhing in the beads and over each other in sublimely slippery ecstasy.

My rock-hard cock was slipping this way and that over the many contours of these three lovely girls as they sensuously fondled me and each other. The brownies and smoke and pills and wine and slippery nudity had combined to put us in a dreamlike state I can only describe as pure pleasure.

To be honest, I do not remember everything that happened, and what I do remember I have no idea what sequence it occurred in, but I do have some very clear mental images, and I do recall that, for some reason, we had every light in that dorm room turned on.

One lasting image is squeezing and sucking and generally playing a lot with Pat's boobs, even today holding a secure spot on my All-Time Ten Best Tits list. I know I must have lingered there way too long, because I remember my girlfriend and her roomie commenting, "Hey, like we like having our boobs played with too, dude."

Another is when I was titty-fucking Pat as she was sitting on the floor slumped with her back against the bed. At the same time, Lisa was lying face up on that bed, her legs spread wide with her tiny buns on top of Pat's head as I went for broke eating her pussy. It tasted like marijuana! Simultaneous with this, Leigh was behind me massaging my balls as she swirled her boobs over my back and buns while grinding her pussy on the knee of Pat's outstretched leg.

Another freeze-frame in my mind is all three girls side-by-side bent doggie over the edge of the tall bed, with Leigh in the middle, and I banging her while three-fingering the other two on each side.

Still another unforgettable image is the three of them pulling multi-colored strands of beads all over my dick and balls as they took turns jacking and sucking me. Lisa kept complaining how bad the baby oil tasted. Leigh, the Blow-Job Queen, did most of the sucking, but I do recall one point when she and Pat were loudly simul-sucking me--lips pursed on either side of my cock, cheeks concave, and tongues working visual and tactile wonders--while Lisa nibbled on my balls and I ran both hands over their six slippery tits.

Yet another mental picture is me eating Leigh's big, juicy pussy from below in a 69 as she sucked me while Lisa looked on four-finger-fucking herself before Leigh raised up, and Lisa hopped on my cock to ride it cowboy as they laughed and fondled each others boobs. I don't remember where Pat was at that juncture.

I do have a faint recollection of someone knocking on the dorm door during our wild escapade and Pat leaving, but I don't know when or why she made her exit.

A final memory was when I was fucking Lisa in an awkward position crossways on Leigh's bed. I was mightily sucking and chewing on her hard little brown nipples and banging her so hard that her head was pounding against the wall.

The next morning when I awoke, or, to be more precise, when I came to, it was very slow and gradual. I was under the sheet with Leigh in her bed, had a hard-on, but had to pee like a muthah. I finally extracted myself without awaking her, and nude and knowing the john was at the opposite end of the hall in this girl's dorm, just whizzed in the sink.

There was Lisa, lying on top of her wrecked bed, catatonic, face up, totally nude, spread-eagle, exposing her lips-flared-way-out pussy like one that had been fucked long and hard. In fact, the whole room was a wreck. What the hell had we done here last night, anyway?

I was so groggy and couldn't seem to think straight. OK, reconstruct things from the beginning. I remembered baking the brownies. There, on top of the in-room frij, was the pan--empty. Shit, we had eaten a whole half ounce of kick-ass black Afghani hash in those brownies! And there was a round pan, a pizza pan. Oh yeah, the pizza we ate. Pat brought it. Oh yeah, Pat. Pat with the dynamite ta-tas! Seemed I'd had a sex dream about her, but what an incredibly real dream that was. Hmmmm.

Thirsty, I opened the little frij hoping to find something to drink, as the tepid gray-brown Crescent City water just does not do it for me. I chugged down a Dixie beer, not much better, but cold. Hmm--A prescription bottle of Placidyls. Only a few left. Hadn't it been over half full yesterday? Oh yeah, we ate some of them, but that many? No wonder I was so out of it.

I looked up. Ha! 3 pair of panties and my shorts were hanging from the ceiling light. I vaguely remembered some game we'd played of tossing them up there.

I gazed absent-mindedly across the room. A big bottle of Johnson's Baby Oil, open, dripping, and nearly empty, on the floor. Barefoot, I walked across the beads to pick it up. I slipped and nearly fell, there was so much oil on those beads. Oh, yeah, we had been writhing around oily and naked on those beads. Yes, I definitely remembered that!

I sat in the chair, also oily, and in succession did up the 5 hash hits already loaded in the Gatling Gun bowl of the bong, which was oily, as well. Ironically, that helped me to collect my wits.

In the stony silence of the room, with the help of the pieces of leftover evidence, I gradually puzzled some of the previous night together, yet it still seemed dreamlike, but so real. It was just too good to be true, so I could not be 100% sure what had happened, and that bothered the living daylights out of me. I desperately wanted to talk about it

I could not wait to talk it over with Leigh and Lisa, yet at the time they were as good as dead, so I scarfed down some Graham Crackers with another Dixie. Sustained a bit, I decided a good, hot shower was just what I needed to get my shit together. So, I peeked up and down the hall to make sure the coast was clear, and made a bee-line with Leigh's towel and my dob kit to the showers.

I was paranoid at first--this being an all-girls dorm--but realized right away from the tomb-like silence that I was the only person awake in the entire building. So I leisurely flossed and brushed my teeth, shaved, and took a long, hot shower.

Just as I got all sudsed up good, I heard a toilet flush. Shit! Someone had come in! Hopefully she would just use the bathroom and leave, but I turned my soapy back to the shower entrance just in case. If anyone came in, she would hopefully just think I was a girl--a very tall girl with hairy legs--and pay me no mind.

Well, next thing I know, I hear the shower at the end of my row blast on and a "Mornin'." In my best effeminate Southern drawl, I managed my own, "Mawanin'," careful to keep my back turned with plenty of soap and shampoo suds streaming down my back side to hopefully camouflage my maleness.

Her water kept running and running and running. Was she ever going to finish? Then I thought I'd take just a quick peek at her over my shoulder. She might be a hottie, you never know, so I held up the shampoo bottle to partially block my face and took a fast glance.

Well I'll be dog-gone! It was Pat! I'd recognize those breasts anywhere. I said hi and walked over to her. At first she was startled and covered herself with her arms, but when she realized it was me, she looked around the corner, dropped her arms, smiled, and asked, "So what are you doing up so early?"

I explained that I am just an early riser and was really glad it was she who came in, staring unflenchingly at her wonderful, soapy boobs, as I wanted to discuss what happened last night with her.

"You are a gentleman, and I am a lady, as well as the vice president of Chi Omega and this floor's RA, right?" she said. "Y...y...yes," I stammered. She continued, "Accordingly, we ate a pizza and some scrumptious brownies, drank a little bit of wine with your girlfriend and her roommate, and a good time was had by all, correct?"

"Well, yeah, but it's that 'good time had by all' part that I wanted to delve into, Pat."

"Listen, the Resident Director--look up "bitch" in Webster's and her picture's there--will be making her morning rounds in just a few minutes, so you better get your cute butt back to Leigh's room out of sight before she makes mincemeat out of that," Pat instructed, looking down at my soapy half-hard shaft, then giving it a few strokes to bring him to full attention, before giving my ass a brisk slap. Staring at her perfect tits and cavernous cleavage, I recalled his pleasant visit the night before to her land-between-the-boobs. Then Pat suddenly turned the showerhead onto me, and said, "You better hurry up and get the hell out of here!"

I quickly rinsed, wrapped the towel around me, grabbed my dob kit, and skidaddled with haste. Just as I was about to walk out, she stepped out of the shower into full view, still slippery with soap and shampoo. "To answer your question, I will say it was a superb pizza, with plenty of hard pepperoni, though quite oily, " she said, sensuously biting her lip while smoothing one hand over those fantastic tits, tweaking the nipples, and diddling her pussy with the other hand. With that image permanently etched in memory, I forced myself to go, after checking the hall to make sure it was clear

When I returned to the room, Lisa was sitting upright naked in her bed doing a bong, and Leigh was inspecting her pussy.

I noticed a big knot and a clot of dried blood on Lisa's head and asked her if she'd fallen out of the bed or something.

"No, that's where you banged my head against the wall while fucking the shit out of me. See the blood on the wall over there?"

I apologized, but she said not to worry about it, that it was well worth the good, long, hard fuck. "I guess that's why they call it 'banging,'" I lamely joked.

Leigh scooted over to the edge of her bed and noticed the prominent bulge beneath her wet towel wrapped tightly around me. I did not judge it wise to mention the incident in the shower with Pat that had precipitated this erection.

I blurted out, "Would someone PLEASE tell me exactly what happened last night?!"

Lisa exhaled the hash smoke, Leigh combed dried cum from her pubic hair, and they answered, in unison, "We had an orgy."

Among the three of us, we were able to reconstruct pretty much the whole evening. Some of it I remember vividly, much of it hazily, and parts of which I have no recollection at all. I don't remember fucking Pat, and Leigh and Lisa didn't mention it, so I don't think I ever had actual intercourse with her. But I got plenty of pussy from the roommates. Of course, having eaten Pat out, played with and titty-fucked those magnificent orbs, and gotten hand- and blow-jobs from her, I cannot really say I felt deprived!

Merely talking about what we recalled from the night before while naked in the same room with Leigh and Lisa that morning got us all turned on, and, inevitably, led to Orgy Number Two.

Only Pat wasn't there that time. Too bad!