A Sexual Feast
(M+/FF, size, orgy, rough)

by Kysa Braswell
www.kysaonline.com

Say goodbye to evenings out, say goodbye to middle managements slobs, Veronica said to herself. She'd had enough of all that at this juncture. Three downers followed by a fair-to-middling degenerated into the pits was almost too much to take. Sam Barber was smooth, no doubt about that. He came on like an ad from a men's magazine, but then it happened. Norman already had the script memorized: (1) this is an affair; (2) my wife doesn't have to know; (3) you don't have to play second fiddle.

Second fiddle! - more like symphony janitor.

So now Norman had her mind all made up. Days would be the usual office nonsense - the light chatter, the senseless flirting, the search for Mr. Right - but nights, she would be pure auto. Norman surveyed her body, and was pleasantly impressed. Her breasts were huge, her hips curved in the right place and her ass was outstanding enough to cause takes in the office, even on Monday mornings. She had a good apartment, too. The bed dominated the studio, but she had the necessities, like an eating area, and a sitting area, and best of all, a fireplace to warm whatever might be in need of simmering.

Norman's eyes skidded about and then settled on her package. It was a big package, but not that big. But not that small. Actually it was one of the most important packages the girl'd brought home in quite a while. Thinking of the contents made her tingle, first through the spine, then in more favored spots. She looked at it and fingered it. Norman walked over to the curtains, then she put the bag on the table. Norman needed a drink. Martini in hand, she soon returned to her little surprise. A smile escaped her lips. Come now, this label's a joke, she said. Norman looked at several pictures of a wholesome lass holding an elongated structure, applying it to her back and upper shoulders.

The caption read: "Learn how to relax. Let Vibro Lax let you sit back and unwind."

Norman began to hum to herself: "Dum da-dum, da... dum, da..." Removing the package, the young secretary's voice became lower, like a breathy moan. Oh, I am a young wench and I'm going to get mine!

Slowly, Norman opened the top, then began to slide her accessory out of the box, already conjuring her imagination, remarking on the vibrator's phallic qualities. It's all mine, she thought. No jilts, no wilting, no wives, no mornings after at the office, and best of all, now Norman was captain - it was her show. Vibrator in hand, Veronica walked over to her full-length mirror and decided to bask for a few minutes in her own reflection. Not bad, she had to admit, not bad at all.

Norman felt something deep inside of her cunt send some desire up into her skull. Sure, she was horny and she was proving she didn't need some corporate stud to keep her going. Why, she was a machine, a unit unto herself, the captain of her own sexual ship.

She gazed upon what most men would feel compelled to look at twice, and then do more than look.

Then she moved closer to the mirror.

Norman delighted at her form, the way her brown hair fell on full shoulders; her eyes were large and brown, and if we make take the liberty at this juncture, a hotbed of power, when activated, bringing a man down on his knees, ready to beg for the box; then there were her breasts, large, in the eyes of some positively huge, but best of all, firm and proud; the rest of the young lady was on the thin side but strategically formed.

What did the Greeks call it? Pollution? Laying the body waste? Not at all, said Norman with a sly smile across her lips. Suddenly, gripped by passion instigated by looking in that mirror, Norman grabbed her breasts and began to squeeze them, knead them, push them together and then to the side, manipulate them until she could feel her spongy nipple getting hard, pushing into her palm, becoming redder and larger. Oh, ooh, she moaned to herself, engulfed in her own passion, and we might add, momentarily losing interest in her new toy.

Norman fell back on her rug and landed on several cushions, breaking her fall (it could not have been better if she had poised, aimed, and fired). Instantly male names and faces raced through her mind as her hips moved upward, as her hands wrenched her undies down below her knees, exposing her luxurious pubic hairs, and when she spread her knees apart, a seething, pink honey-box. The names passed: Jack Waterhouse, Marty Ingleton, Ross Ruens, Doug Meunier; bodies: fat, tall, athletic (ectomorph, endomorph, mesomorph) - one after the other.

Norman couldn't remember being so horny, because besides the comfort, they were all so real and all hers for the choosing. Pressing her hips up into the air, churning and twisting, eyes rolling slightly up ward, the lady conjured her scenes and then in a moment of recognition settled upon her material: John Winston, John the Con, the man with the schlong, or as the steno pool used to say, sshhh... it's long." Now he was all hers to live out again, this time without the jilt of an ending. She remembered.

"I'd like to defoliate you," he said.

"Is that right?"

"I'd like to defoliate, violate, and not even mitigate," he'd quipped.

Norman remembered it as if it were yesterday, the way she shamelessly bared her breasts beside him in the front seat, the way she placed his hand on her breast, right over the nipple, the way she cupped her hand and placed it on top of his crotch, feeling his manhood grow. She remembered everything. Placing her hand inside her slit at this point in time, she recalled the billboard outside the car, the way the '0', was missing from "COUNTLESS WOMEN USE DIAL," the way she laughed just when he was penetrating. She remembered how red he became, then joined in when he turned and noticed what tickled her.

Norman's fingers were moist now. Her finger had become John's cock, fat and full. Norman felt her body from head to toe, pushing her fingers through her hair, ascribing circles about her breasts, then pushing downward on her sides (feeling the curve of her hips). Her mind's eye was dynamite, bringing dialogue into play until she wasn't sure what was fact and what was fancy. "Put it in John, put that big cock inside all the way." She could feel its tender, pink head penetrate and then the way the entire shaft seemed to enlarge once inside. Rolling her eyes, Norman tried to flatten her breasts, but the tissue was so firm - had such consistency - that they defiantly remained protruded.

She was in the front seat now: 'CUNTLESS' outside the window, rain pouring down incessantly, John's snipe thickening the air, "You're no frump," coming at her with his hot breath. The scene was chiseled like a fresco: John the Con's hand pushed from her stomach, then settled in the dark place under breast. They were naked (that was one thing Norman still couldn't picture - how the hell had they managed it?) and Norman managed to perch her leg over John's thigh until her knee was just over his groin. At the very moment she applied pressure, at the instant she could feel his member pushing into her skin, she pushed her titty upward, positioning his finger so that her nipple came forward, begging to be sucked, even bitten, anything! The more Norman pushed on her knee, the harder John squeezed, the wider Norman opened her mouth, the more tongue and spittle she received from that dynamo.

"Baby," he'd interjected, as if so excited he could no longer hold his tongue back, "I've had a lot of women, you know that; I'll be honest with you: secretaries, management people, lady execs, academics - a French teacher at Sorbonne to be exact - political chicks, but Norman, you're completely unique." Norman egged him, until he continued, "It's not just body, it's something about you, those... those eyes." That's when Norman realized that was her main weapon, drawing card, seducer, invoker, revoker, whatever the situation may call for. Some pash, she thought, but then she was overcome by what this man was doing to her.

John pushed her back on the seat until the back of her head rested against the window (she didn't even notice that the door handle had begun to dig into her back, indenting her otherwise perfect form). "You were born to love, Veronica," he'd said, "You're my baby, let me put my stem inside you all the way," he'd said, and then he'd said some weeks later, sorry Ron (Veronica was called by many a name, an advantage or disadvantage of polysyllabic nomenclature), the wife calls, and I'm getting too much heat. "But enough of this," Ron said to herself as she pulled against her couch - she'd write (right) the script now.

It was pure action in her mind's eye: she had her thigh pushing against John's cock with such pressure, that she began to think that his stem was penetrating her skin. The executive buried his face into her breast then licked, then licked the skin just above her nipple. Ron could feel her swollen nipples craving for man handling, and she felt the ecstasy of his tongue warming and seething her cherries. John managed to move his body (turning it completely around) so that he was now on the bottom, his long and lean form dominating the upholstery, gradually lubricating it with his rank yet manly sweat. The stud was able to position his lovely atop his form - which he negotiated by holding onto her buns and pressing her, almost wrenching her against his groin section. He cupped his fingers then pushed his pinky on Ron's dark, steamy underside, gradually moving forward until he reached her ass (was he unaware if he was coming or going?). But Veronica knew he was intentional in his obscene movement, and was even a little surprised at the pleasure he evoked in exploring her asshole. Pushing his finger up from the long slit between her buns, he settled in the triangular spot just above the crevice and pressed on her until Veronica almost laughed. Wrenching Veronica about on her side, then turning her over completely, the young woman lay with her ass perfectly positioned over John's cock She could feel his stem settle into her crack. She could sense his heaving chest push against her own. She could sense his distended, huge balls push against her thigh, the prickly thin skin sending shivers straight through her spine and into her nipples.

Veronica kept finger fucking herself, kept orchestrating the pattern of her encounter. There was even dialogue:

"Baby, you're the greatest. I want you all over all of your fucking gorgeous body."

"Do it, fuck me all the way.

"Ooh, yes, yes!" Veronica could see his eyes vividly, two fire balls. It was close now, dangerously so.

The young woman was writhing off her couch, falling onto the rug. Once again she could see her form in the mirror and before continuing her reverie, she spread her legs in order to view her pulsing pussy. She was a raggle, and knew it, an eye full of steamy, woman meat who could make any male lose his cool. Just look at that, she said to herself, narrowing her eyes, breathing even deeper - positively excited by the sight of her inner womanhood. Veronica thought fleetingly of literature - after all, she was an English major at Sarah Lawrence - of Fitzgerald's convoluted love affairs, of Hemingway's hunts and the desperation of Capote's characters in their sadistic and sexual longings. But when she looked right into the heart of that pussy, she knew that it all boiled down to that, the least common denominator, male and female meat.

"CUNTLESS WOMEN" - hah, thought Veronica, that can't be this college bitch. Veronica was captivated by her own body, by the convolutions of her steamy cunt, the folds of skin and the moist, glistening tissue. (We might add that as Veronica was known for her fantastic ass, and gigantic mammaries, her reputation had also risen in certain corporate circles for having exceptional vaginal lock powers. Her ability to open up, and then put on the steam - as some put it, the "clamp" - was almost uncanny.)

Just then the saucy lady realized she'd been neglecting her essential accessory, the piece of equipment which guaranteed her liberation from male domination. It lay on the table, virginal in status, yet expectant in condition. The broad turned the power switch then touched the top of the mechanism and was delighted with the resulting tingle. But even better than that was the fact that she could feel heat, quantums distinctly emanating from that phallic, as Ingmar B. would say, symbolska. Veronica put it against her heaving bosom, and loved it. Then she pressed it straight into her nipple. Dare she press further? She did. As a matter of fact, Veronica pressed the electric dick into her until the blood began to take its leave, and she began to feel pleasure degenerate into pain. She pressed harder, until she couldn't stand it, and only then did she have mercy and allow her breasts to take their original form.

When Veronica pushed the vibrator downward, below her pubic hair (it looked like some monstrous war machine plowing through guerrilla terrain as it parted her bushes) she could not help but think of John's magnificent 10-inch prick. She was able to bring to mind that magnificent penetration. John hadn't been at all handicapped by the cramped quarters, spreading out and going to town as if in the most expansive of double, queen or king beds. After what seemed like an eternity of tit sucking, he finally released his grasp and lowered his head to her midsection, blazing a trail to the south with his probing fingers. Sniffing and inhaling extremely deeply, John the Con moved his nose through the pubics, obviously basking in the erotic itch created therein. Veronica remembered the ultimate pleasure of his hot, wet tongue, splitting apart her labia and entering the depths of her insides. As a bird flies, so did our Veronica, inhaling with total passion, exhaling in preparation for greater highs: sexual highs. As John pushed into her and continued to eat, he moved his hands upward until he was again atop her mountainous melons, until he was pressing against them which did nothing if not heighten her pleasure.

The girl was on the floor again, in the warmth of her studio apartment, with dildo in hand, yet she might as well have been in that car on that rainy eve, for that was where her mind (and cunt) was at. She couldn't forget that John had driven her mad with desire, especially by means of his genius for holding her off, making her ache for the real heavy action. After sucking her cunt, the man put his key in the ignition. "Where are you going?" our friend asked. The man answered they were in need of stimulation and proceeded to Pacific Grove, to a place with the most awesome view in the entire Cisco area. Without further exchange of words, he pushed Veronica almost against the window pane. John, holding his cock proudly upward, was able to penetrate in this manner, from the rear. (It had been a first for Veronica - she'd never even imagined a guy could get it that way.)

"One, two, three..." John said, "And here she goes!" and with that the stud shot deep within her, and even managed before shooting his load to pull his cock out and cover her buns with his precious night juice.

Veronica lay in her apartment, spent but unspent, satiated but hot as hell, half cocked in the feminine sense. Well, not bad, she thought, I've got the throttle in hold this time, simple as that. The cock's completely under my control and I can drive myself as high, as far and as long as my little heart desires. Norman rose and looked in the mirror. She could tell she'd been through something. A few of her pubic hairs were pasted against her thighs. Several drops of sweat had formed in key places- her upper lip, under her breasts, between her legs just under the cunt.

The woman pushed her body against the mirror until her protuberances touched, forming a hot vision as if two nymphs were preparing to make it. Two huge nipples pulsing against each other; two palms stretching out making contact; and then, two ominous looking white dicks moving toward each other. Norman had to smile a little as she watched the vibrators coming near and then touch. Well now, you two look like you're quite the friends, quite the friend. But my story's not over, not just yet. Norman knew then that what she really wanted, what would make it all worthwhile was nothing less than a reenactment of her entire recent love life, from John on' the entire macho repertoire. But this time there'd be a twist: a happy ending.

What will it be, thought Ron. Perhaps a ball with John, or maybe conjuring that hot party she went to in L.A., that den of inequity with all the drugs; hell, anything was available from hashish to hard acid. No, thought Ron, she wasn't quite through with John left. There was more to that story.

But Ron was a bit preoccupied at that moment by her own reflection. Who knows, maybe she was falling in love with herself after all, she loved her body. She liked carrying her weight, liked the way her skin felt all over. She even liked the manner in which her tits flopped against her midsection. But was that love? - she wasn't ready to ponder the imponderables.

You are one broad; she said almost out loud. At that point, she squeezed against the mirror, more effectively flattening her tits than any of the inflamed attempts of the myriad of studs. No, she knew when, how and where to press. She'd never seen flattened nipples before and it fascinated her. Ron liked the way they became redder, right in front of her very eyes. She imagined they were two red eyes. They spoke to her. They told her she was one sexy bitch. "Oooh," she moaned - this time completely out loud. Ron could see that her breasts were spread out so that they bulged out her sides, two sacks of pleasure flesh, seemingly bursting out ward. Observing the top action, the woman suddenly wished she could stick her cunt on the reflector and have it come back at her. That was it; she wanted to be fucked by her own cunt (amazing what these electronic devices can do for a woman).

Ron felt the curve of her hip then pushed her hand around her front until her curly, dark pubic hairs were parted by the probing of her fingers. She wanted to be inside herself again, to finger fuck until her imagination would take over and bring her back to John.

How had she become so horny? Maybe it was her environment at work, the sterile contrast from her pastoral - intellectual life upstate in the East, maybe it was the fact she knew everyone in that insurance office had action on their minds. No, she'd never forget the first day on the job. Being attractive, standing out in more ways than one, she found every male trying to orient her with their foolish excuses. John had come in, asking if she knew where the water cooler was. He brought Ron over, then asked her out, just like that He didn't believe in the old beat around, just right to the heart of the matter, as if he didn't want to waste his time by pecking up the wrong branch. Mr. Danielli, now there was a case. One afternoon Ron spied him in, to put it diplomatically, an excited state: "PLEASE DO NOT DISTURB" said the sign on his door, "disturb" (if your name is Veronica) maid the sign on his face. Perhaps he unconsciously left his door open, but for whatever reason, the crack was just wide enough for Veronica to get the idea. He was just sitting at his desk, arms wrapped around the back of his head, but protuberance clearly visible in his pants, just sitting there.

Veronica, Ron, Norman, as the case may be, was in a dangerous mood and simply rose out Of her seat and knocked at the boss' door as she quickly improvised an excuse to break his little dream state.

"Oh, Miss Jenkens."

He was a touch surprised.

Norman looked down at him. Sure he was a bit hot with his cock between his legs and his hands in his pockets as if making a shrewd move of a cover-up. "Miss Jenkens, will you take dictation?"

"No, but I'll take a dick," she thought.

That's when she knew what the insurance business was all about.

Or, the first office party - holiday spirit and all that sort of thing, letting loose when the clocks are disconnected, a little raz-a-ma-taz and all that jazz. Not one of the execs was happy: that was the lesson. Norman soon came up with her own theory. The higher you go up the ladder of success, the worse the marriage. Jenkens law. Administrative assistant: "Hey, Norman, would you like to go out with me, I mean, just to get away from the office for the party, you know what I mean.

Assistant Vice President: "Miss Jenkens, I'm free tonight, this evening to be exact. How about coming around to my private apartment."

Vice President: "Fool around?"

President: no verbiage necessary.

And our friend Norman had gone the whole (hole) route. But more of that later.

For now, Norman confronted herself in the mirror, liking and positively turned on by what she saw. After all, she thought, I'm not a bad piece of ass. Norman slid down the edge of the mirror until her buns rested on the hard part of the floor where the rug ended but the wall did not begin. Nice, really nice, she thought. Norman didn't mind the hard, cold floor. Norman didn't mind being alone. Norman was a piece of ass.

Back in her car with her John, Norman's imagination was able to sequence the events with more detail. A simple ball was not the end of it and for that matter was not even the beginning of it. John had reached a height of passion he'd never experienced in the past. It got to the point where the stud couldn't hold his energy down. Slithering around the seat, he soon lost all restraint, digging his teeth almost painfully into our young friend. He worked his way down from her nape until he reached the lovely large part of her upper chest, just where her breasts began, the place which gets tan while the more scrumptious parts are hidden. He reached below that point, passed the Mason-Dixon dividing white from tan then made for the sure ground of her womanhood. Pushing her left tit upward, he made contact with an open mouth which was just able to take in the tip of the iceberg. He heard the girl moan and tried to take in more at the same time he readjusted his legs so that they were so intertwined with Ron's as to allow freedom to kick and cavort to taste. The rain began to come in torrents, smashing against the windows until it would have been impossible to see two feet outside (if they'd care to look).

"I'm GONNA FUCK YOU EVERYWHERE!" he groaned out. Norman noticed that the softest part of the sentence was "I'm" so she knew he meant business. She had to admit, he was the greatest ball to date, even if he wasn't a top-level exec (small chickens actually, middle management).

Norman felt his hands move in fast motion from the front of her chest, down below her navel and through her mat to the slit below. The man opened her up as if possessed. She felt his hot, steamy breath go into her opening and penetrate her channels at the same time she was aware of the intensity of pressure around her neck. It was a trip to feel his man hands manhandling her delicate neck. She did have a delicate neck. It wasn't a scrawny neck, but it was a delicate neck, a feminine neck. He'd even told her she'd a nice neck, but she barely paid attention, so enraptured was she in carnal pursuits.

"Ravage me, go animal, go animal!" She'd said with more air than chords - or perhaps it was airy chords. She felt his hand move down and his tongue lubricate her already moist insides, his saliva mixing with her woman juices, creating an ambrosial fluid which John imbibed with greedy passion. Veronica almost wished she could go down on her own pussy, but aware of the impossibility of the fantasy, settled for some nice thick cock - he did have an exceptional cock.

Veronica knew it was a natural high - no drugs, nothing artificial except that big, manly body. He was a specimen of a man: big, thick thighs covered with black hair; swollen, distended balls, and an Olympian cock; to say nothing of his massive shoulders and a chest which resembled a rain barrel - after The Flood. He was all hers too, or at least that's what she thought at the time, a prospect, a fancy, a desire which satisfied her enough at the time.

She knew the stud was about to cum when he started to grind his teeth (a tip she'd picked up in a powder room a long time ago - one of those drunken affairs when the ladies, especially the older ones, start babbling about the mouth). When the teeth grind and a man starts to sweat in funny places (like the upper and lower lip, or the navel) then there's no two ways about it: prepare for the explosion.

Veronica knew this would be heavier than anything she'd known previously, so she wanted to draw it out as long as possible, a strategy which could work for or against her depending on the disposition of the man and the condition of the woman. In this case, all factors clicked in the right direction. Taking the aggressive, Ron pushed him up until he was fairly sitting on her thigh. In any case, she could now see the entire scene down there and fixed her gaze on the bottom of his shaft. He was pumping so hard now (didn't even seem to notice when his legs fell off the seat and he was kind of half standing on the rug) that his cock penetrated and then was released until it was half visible, before taking advantage of the return ticket, given the special excursion rates. She'd never seen a cock as thick or sure. His scrotum became visible given the various angles associated with his thrusts, a fine hunk of well spread thick skin. Veronica went on to do something she'd never negotiated, never cared to. She pulled and yanked at his buns and then slid her finger between them until she could feel his ass heat. She could feel the slightly harder textured skin inside the fold and delighted in the manner in which his buttocks tightened as she felt him up. She knew he didn't particularly go for her exploration. But what the hell.

"I'M FUCKIN' YOU NOW LITTLE LADY. I'M GONNA RAPE YOUR FUCKING ASS!"

"Let it go, cum inside now, cum again. Keep going, baby... that's it lover!"

She realized just then this would be the big two. One had cum not more than minutes earlier. What was it with men, anyways? Some acted like they'd just climbed a mountain after coming, as if they needed a cooling out period - in the form of a cigarette, a trip to the john, a deep snooze, whatever. But this middle management type, this real John of hers, acted like he wanted more, and at that point, she guessed she might be able to squeeze another round out of him, a potch on the ass and he'd be hers for the night.

The closer John came to orgasm, the more he dribbled from the mouth. "Baby, you're the greatest, the best around," he blurted in between a feel on the belly and a caress to the tit. John moved down and pushed her body to an angle until he felt just the proper angle and pressure against his man stem. "Yeah, baby, oh,... ah!" he ejaculated. "Oh," he panted, "I knew the moment I saw you behind that slectric that you had this kind of stuff in you, the way you held yourself baby... class, real class." He didn't care that Veronica was hardly listening. He didn't care that it was raining, that the mud surrounding the wheels outside could trap them for the night and ruin the Thursday morning (supposedly back on the job). He didn't care at that point about the tell-tale lipstick on his face, or the nail marks on his back, or the assorted hickies from his buns to his blade. "FUCK ME BABY, FUCK ME ALL THE WAY!"

"Cum on me."

"Wha..."

"That's right, cum on my stomach." That's the way Ron wanted it. She didn't know why. She didn't care why.

"You sure you want it that way, Ron?"

"I rarely make a mistake when I'm feeling this way."

"Here it is." He took it out. "You like that, you like it, don't you?"

Ron looked at it, enraptured. She liked it.

"I like it."

"I know you like it."

She looked at the way a few drops of cum lay on the tip, like they escaped or something. She looked at how it was beyond red hot and was crimson hot, purple. Shhh... long, she thought, and almost giggled. But she stopped in time to see his final preparation heave, a massive constriction of his entire form, followed by a reddening about the face, an increase of blood pressure, all punctuated by a fantastic groan: "Agghh... oh, oh OH!"

He came like lightning, all over her stomach, in fantastic spurts which reached all the way up to her breasts. She'd never felt like such an animal and even in college days would have been turned off by her own behavior, but there was no stopping her at this point. Opening her mouth all the way, she pointed his penis her way and managed to score, right into the orifice. It was salty, and creamy, and viscous, and bitter all at the same time. She couldn't remember anything as tasty, anywhere and she was aware this was the kind of thing a man doesn't forget.

"I'm still on," she said.

"You bitch, what is this? I cum twice and you act like you've had a date with a hairy banana. You must be kidding."

"No I'm not kidding." Then Norman doffed her panties from around her ankles, took her leave, and ran into the rain.

It was cold, but not that cold. Nevertheless, the stud yelled out, "You're crazy!"

A moment later they stood side by side, drenched to the bone, but their enthusiasm squelched not a bit.

Ron continued her dildo action on that Friday evening, warm and comfortable. It was almost better than the real thing, she thought as she began to slide the unit into her slit. Slowly she moved up her thighs, feeling the drops of woman juice which persisted along the white, smooth sides. Feeling the cold floor begin to dig into her buns, the woman rose and jiggled over to the rug. Ron could feel the rug dig into her as she prepared for her buscar. She fell downward, putting her hands in front of her mammoth breasts just in time to break her fall. Then she pulled her hands away, luxuriating in the feel of the rug strands adding to her jollity by pressing against nipple and tit. She even pushed herself into the rug, as if she were making love to it, as if it was alive and fucking.

Then Veronica turned around and sat on her ass as she looked at her reflection. "Ron, Norman, Veronica," she said loudly and distinctly, "you're one hell of a young broad." With that, she spread her legs into a "V" and then suddenly, violently, stuck that stick all the way inside. "Ooooh, ah," she moaned.

Gradually, she brought back the scene behind the car, the way John's hair was drenched and matted, the way her own dark locks stuck to her front, covering the tops of her breasts like a Haitian. She'd run from the stud; he didn't like that a bit.

"Come back here you bitch!"

"Come and get me!"

She'd run a good fifty yards before he overcame her. Ron looked back with amusement - his cock was still erect and slowed him and his distended balls were a little absurd jiggling like two sacks of potatoes. But it was a complete turn-on to Ron who immediately ran toward him and clasped her legs around his midsection, kissing him on the lips as hard as she could. They fell back into the mud and became filthy - two animals that they were. There was even a slight incline, and they tossed and turned all the way down, completely encasing their bodies in mud and slime.

"Bitch!" he yelled all the way down.

"You love it, you love it, company man!" He didn't have an answer to that one. "Now, now."

For at least the fifth time that day, John stuck his manhood as deeply inside her as possible. He could feel her vaginal walls parting to accommodate; he could feel her dynamite grasp (how she was able to tighten, especially in that atmosphere mystified him - talent, he guessed); he could feel her heave her breasts up almost into his face, a reminder of the full glory of her womanhood.

Drenched, but not cold; dirty, but not dampened in spirit, the couple copulated without a care or a thought that they might be observed or their energies could be excessive. "You're excessive," she told him as a bait. He ignored her, and if anything increased the strength of his thrusts.

Harder, faster he thrust into the woman, almost with a vengeance. Ron grasped at the weeds which surrounded her, the pivoted her hips in such a way that she was able to push upward until she succeeded in lifting John's form, a form whose apex was his manly ass. She tugged, pulled, yanked at his buns until the rains could pour into his asshole, then she pushed him flush against her own loins, hip against him, cemented. What followed was the greatest orgasm she'd had anywhere. Not even an orgy at school came up to this kind of satisfaction. It might have been the added excitement of the rain, the sensual drenching of the cold, dirty water which engulfed them mercilessly.

We may observe our Veronica, lying on her own floor, the buzz of her pleasure stick a low hum, her lights turned low and the sweat of complete concentration beading on her upper lip as on a workman. We may venture a guess that she had a good thing going, and be on sure footing.

Veronica slowly rose to gather her senses and take a stab at the situation. Let's see, she thought. I've got an entire weekend and one love life to review - that should be simple enough. She made up her mind: a dirge, a marathon (sexathon), a situation of please do not disturb, for there was a relationship to draw with John, but this ending, the ending in her mind's eye (which was as real as any if it could get to her cunt) would be far better than actuality: she'd add her own twist.

Veronica had a party to go to. After all, that was in the script, the course of events with her friend John, the turnface before the turn of face, another move of prince charming before he got around to detail his marital status and the resulting connubial confiscation.

This party would not be difficult to remember: it wasn't that long ago, but something about the atmosphere cemented the whole thing in her mind. A few twists and turns and the vibrator and she'd be in the middle of it once again, making time, getting soused or stoned (the customer chooses), and generally reaping havoc on an otherwise affluent and sturdy beach house.

It wasn't her first orgy but it was her first first-class orgy. What actually happened was most unfortunate in that, Norman had got cold-feet and didn't participate. Okay, she's been new on the coast, and it all was a bit much for her to take in one big slice, especially when doled out by as aggressive a stud as John. But now was her chance to rewrite the script, to fantasize and make it happen all over again, but this time really happen, not just booze and talk.

She began to create the story, half fact but more fiction, beginning her thought in the tub, drenched in bubbles and warm water which softened her skin a gave a pink glow to her cheeks and tits. Norman took the soap and stuck it into her cunt, first halfway and then all the way in, until she began to moan and get into the mood.

She saw herself enter aggressively and be confronted by a room full of hot studs and maidens. John's eyes almost popped out of his head. Veronica pictured at least ten guys and dolls, half of them topless, the other have sporting alluring brassieres and bikini underwear. It didn't take long to get things started. Like the Red Sea, or a communal meeting house, the party divided in half, and Veronica chose her group, disappointed but going along with her plan.

There was something new in all of this: girls. Veronica had thought about if before. She read widely. She was aware of certain literary circles in which lesbianism was accepted, or for that matter knew of its implications in the feminist movement. She'd probably been approached for that matter, sure Rose Knollwood in the office, with her heaving bosom, who always stood just a little too close and was always asking Ron up to her room for a drink. But somehow this wouldn't be quite so kinky. The presence of men made it A-okay.

One of the men left, and eventually a foursome was left in the bedroom, two mammoth women, and two extremely well-hung men. The studs had the women lay back on their back, then each concentrated on one and stripped to taste, which is to say nakedness. Norman couldn't help in her imagination, as she sat there steaming in her tub, comparing her own assets with the other broad. One thing was certain: they were both stacked, stacked as hell. It was hard to tell who was larger, but Norman had an idea she was a bit firmer, possessing better muscular support (and she knew guys really went for that).

Suddenly, Norman decided to orchestrate the scene by accelerating the pace. The two studs got on the bed, lowering their shorts: Both were large, almost gigantic. What had really happened was that Norman joined a couple of women who had cold feet and never got to see these cocks, although she could have bit her tongue for being such a prude later that night. Now, she'd make up for past frustration.

Ron imagined some positions. Sam - the tall, blond guy - decided to help her and Cecile get acquainted so he pushed their bodies first on the side and then together. It was the first time Ron even thought of such a situation, and she imagined it to be nothing less than fantastic, the feel of woman tit pushing against her own, the hard nipples digging into her own cherries, and the fantastic, smooth legs entwining around her own. "Oh, yes, yes," she said out loud, "push those things into me."

"Why not give her a little body rub," Sam suggested.

Ron was rising out of the tub and already drying herself with a terrycloth as she imagined what it would be like to give a job to a broad like Cecile. I know, she thought, I'd start on her back and then make my way around the front, first kneading her around the back of the shoulders and then pressing into the flesh of her back. I'd move down, all the way down, to the beginning of her ass and then I'd shamelessly rub her buns. Then I'd start at her ankles, moving my way up to the calf, the inside of her thigh, and I'd stop just below her cunt to make her ache for it. I'd keep rubbing, stopping at the sides of her breasts and making her ache for it.

Ron decided to make the scene happen in her trusty imagination.

"Turn over," she said to Cecile. Cecile graciously obliged, exposing her two huge, Titan tits, which seemed to be the very center of her entire body. Ron could hardly hold herself back, but she knew that half the fun was the tease. Her tactile titillation grew to a new plane of excitement as she worked her way down from Cecile's shoulders and pounced on her tits. The glorious splendor, the sumptuous epicureanism, the boundless hedonism was almost too much for Ron to take, but her mind's eye was not about to mitigate a full frontal attack, an attack on tit, on nipple, and finally, juicy, throbbing cunt.

"Feel them, feel them all over," Cecile begged. A tall woman - generously stacked with FF-cup breasts and big-boned - she seemed to dominate the entire area over which she lay. Ron imagined her to be even more impressive than herself, more of a temptation to their masculine audience, a duet of spectators holding themselves back with decreasing success. Ron felt the erect left nipple, then bent down until she was able to touch the teat with the tip of her tongue, a delicate, tingly sensation, a nerve impulse beginning at the point of inception, traveling up the spine, and ending up in the pleasure center deep within convolutions of gray matter. As Marv and Sam resorted to tooth grinding, fist clenching, hyperventilation and other tricks of the celibacy trade, so Norman continued motions created for the sole purpose of tricking up the tricks - and our young lady was quite successful, you may believe that. "Suck them, suck them!" Norman's newly found friend began, "I want you to ravish me, ravish my tits!" Quick to oblige, Norman dug her teeth right into the womanly flesh. "Oooh," Cecile moaned out in pain-pleasure. "More, more!" Norman positioned herself on the side with efficacy until her arm reached entirely underneath Cecile until her fingers coyly emerged around her side and made their way up the side of the woman's tits. Then Norman looked down, and much to her pleasant surprise, was rewarded with an eyeful of pussy.

She looked inside Cecile with wonder and lust: wonder-lust. The hair on her vulva formed a neat triangle, formally truncated at the tip of the slit, making the crack all the more clean, all the more tempting. Veronica wanted to enter the lass with her tongue, or with her fingers, or with her hand, or with anything attached to her own body and able to send sensations into her skull. Veronica moved her hand lower at this point, right down under her friend's buns. The trick, of course, was to inconspicuously negotiate a full frontal assault into that slit and get a portion of a shiny lubrication which was all but too visible.

"Go inside the bitch," Marv blurted, no longer able to contain his aggressive proclivities, "Feel that woman's buns and finger her. Finger fuck her!"

"That's right," Sam followed. In an echo of Marv, he added, "Get inside of the coquette, all the way." He fell back against the wall, then slid down until he landed on his buns, his pants betraying a give-away bulge.

Or at least that's the way Veronica composed it in her mind's eye.

As Norman moved her hand under Cecile's buns, as Norman continued to squeeze the woman's tits, so the men's temperature continued to rise. Marv moved forward. Sam held him back. "Hey," he whispered, "you know the more we wait, the hotter we get. That's the entire secret."

"Yeah, but enough's enough." His comment was punctuated by groans from Cecile, and encouragement from Veronica.

"Hang in there good buddy. Stay with it. I won't steer you wrong." The truth of the matter was that Sam was every bit as hot as his friend Marv, but Sam was more a master, more a sensual expert. Sam knew how to hold back his goodies, and for that matter had a reputation in certain circles for his magnificent, almost uncanny ability to hold back. Now, we're not talking about coitus interruptus, or other such artificialities. We're talking brass tacks in and out retention.

Veronica finally moved down to Cecile's lower portions, first licking the woman's belly, then approaching her pubic hairs. Kneading the flesh in her hand, abandoning the woman's great tits in favor of the treasures below, Norman began to lick the curly hairs. They tasted salty and sweaty but at the same time strangely sensual - as if composed of some secret sex recipe. Veronica licked the hairs, first gently, then passionately; pushed her hands around the woman's hips, pressing the skin inward, kneading it until it turned a faint shade of pink; moved her face lower still, until she was just about at Cecile's slit and finally - after pausing to listen to the woman's groans of pleasure - decided to get down to the really heavy stuff.

"Do it to her Norman, all the way!" one of the men urged.

At that point, Norman stood, acutely aware of the weight of her own bosom which stood firmly in front of her chest (a fantastic sign of her sensual powers). She shook her breasts proudly until they jiggled like Jello. This especially got to Cecile who spread her legs even wider in order to accommodate any eventuality.

She looked down at the woman below, a fantastic example of feminine desirability. Cecile lay on the floor now, propping herself up by her hands ever so slightly. Her buns pressing against the white rug, her hands digging into it, she allowed her legs to part just enough to expose the full glory of her pussy. She knew she would get hers soon. And she did.

Norman delivered the goods just as she promised them, vivid, sensual, filled with delights. She lowered her head for the assault, first grabbing on two knees (one for each hand) then pressing upward toward her destination. As her lips approached the honeybox, she was aware of greater olfactory stimulation, a heavenly mixture of sour, sweet and goo.

Norman imagined how she lowered her head right in to the pussy, her own hair mixing with the woman's pubics, her lips finally touching upon Cecile's pulsing pussy. The imbroglio of her desires were now out in the open and acceptable - to herself, to her broad, to her men, to all. Stroking the inside of Cecile's thighs, Norman moved up with her tongue and lips until she tasted woman juice. "Oh, yes," she heard - encouragement accrued from all mouths in the room.

Norman dug all the way in and could see the vaginal walls clearly. She could smell the fragrances, and feel the slimy texture of wet, hot womanhood. She could sense Cecile's ultimate pleasure as her temperature was heightened to stratospheric pro portions. Embroiled in rising passion, the two women were aware at any second their homo action could be made hetero action an exciting prospect, a prospect they wished to facilitate.

Within seconds of Norman's daring tactile penetration, Marv could no longer hold himself back. Cecile saw his presence; Norman felt his presence: a huge cock brushed against her lower back. She could feel the throbbing heat of his member stroke against her and then she had to cry out at the fantastic sensation of his warm palms cupping her huge, distended breasts. He squeezed her melons fervidly, passionately, until she wanted nothing but his big, manly cock all the way inside of her. She wanted him to fuck her, fuck her as she fucked Cecile. "Do it to me, fuck me with that cock of yours... it feels so good!" - she knew this could only encourage the man. Within seconds, she felt his cock move down toward her torrid sections.

Picture this, if you will. Veronica stoops on her knees, her ass up in the air, her head pushing down towards Cecile's cunt, her arms pressing against the woman's thighs. Cecile is groaning and her mouth is open. Veronica's mouth is likewise open, yet her tongue pushes out and strokes the woman's most delicate parts: her labia, her clit, the top of her vulva. Concurrently, our friend Marv has managed to push his stem between Norman's buns, his long member sticking forward, then resting against the crevice of her anality. Sam watches this but is unable to hold himself back for long and is moved to the scene, yet is momentarily stuck on which way to turn. After all, what a sight is there to behold: a broad, another broad, a man atop the two, straddling two worlds but conquering both. Yet, being resourceful, he decides upon the unconventional yet effective approach over the top of Cecile's head (remember it is slightly elevated due to support from her palms) until he is able to straddle her. He allows each of his feet to lie on each of the sides, then sits until he feels heavenly tit-flesh under his buns. Sensitive to his relatively massive weight, he lowers himself only enough to feel the full sensation of hot, erect nipple. His hands - in the meantime - begin to explore the convolutions of Norman's tits.

If you can picture this, you have an idea of the scene created in the mind of Veronica that Friday evening.

Veronica knew she was onto something big. Momentary respite created as she looked down at her dildo, she observed how it shined with her own lubrication. Norman stuck it inside her cunt yet another time and basked in pure sensation, divorced from fantasy. It was sheer delight, a magnificent sexual high. Norman looked at her reflection as she stooped. She could see her tendons tighten, her pectorals strain and her thighs bulge outward as she at tempted to negotiate the widest possible split while stooping. She tickled her outside area with the tip of the electric cock, then began to penetrate. She could see a circle of flesh materialize around the dildo as she moved it inward. First it looked like a rim, then a crimson circle around the white cock, a full form of white heat. "Ooh," she moaned out in pleasure. But she had to get back to her little party - a party based on a real happening, but made fifty times more enjoyable in her imagination.

Marv and Sam were both flying in full form. Splitting occurred, as Marv grabbed hold of Norman's shoulder and turned her about, rolling onto the floor. It was just the two of them for a while. "I'm going to fuck you until it hurts," he said. He grabbed her tits, then blurted, "They're so big, so fucking big." Complimented, Norman offered her tits in present form, holding them upward to the man so that he could sample them in full glory. He kissed the top, where her massive cleavage began; then he moved lower, rapidly approaching the torrid zone of nipple; finally, he settled upon the cherries, licking them, sucking them, pinching them between his front teeth, then pushing them into his face until it looked like he might suffocate. "No danger of me choking in this bounty," he reassured her. Not that she was afraid for his safety, but it was nice to hear he was still kicking under all that flesh.

Meanwhile, Sam was giving the business with his match: he was feeling oral on this particular occasion, so he initiated some fantastic mouth action. His broad locked him between her legs, squeezing him around the middle until he almost begged her to stop, but decided against it. Sam started Frenching with her, opening her lips with his tongue, penetrating inside her mouth, merging his spittle with her own. As he cupped her huge tits in his hands, he began to inhale so deeply that he could observe her cheeks become concave from the pressure of his wind. Then he moved downward to her chest and took one nipple between his lips, then the other, then back to the first one. "Blow me," he said finally, "blow me right now Cecile." Cecile'd been thinking that very thing, so she positioned her body in advantageous posture, preparing her lips by moistening them with her tongue.

"You sure you know what you're getting into."

"Oh, I think I can handle your hot lips."

"Hot lips yes, but there's more with it." She liked acting mysterious like that.

Cecile suddenly took the tip of his cock between her lips - just the tip.

"Ooh, ah, yes, YES!"

Sam's groan was so intense, Marv couldn't help but notice. "Hey, what do you two have going up there?"

"This lady's dynamite," he responded.

"Well, just you be sure to leave a little for me."

"Come now, two friends never let a great pair of lips mess things up."

"Cryptic, aren't we."

"You know what I mean." But Sam was already getting too hot to keep talking. He looked down and saw that the broad was now taking more of him in side her lips, until she suddenly had him almost entirely within. "Baby, that's it, that's the way." Sam actually managed to reach a bottle of booze which was within arm reach. His senses were bombarded as he took a long swig of whiskey. Veronica liked that, liked that little touch she'd added to her little masturbatory creation of a party. Why not, for what is to stop a guy from guzzling anything at all - or doing anything at all - while some broad went down on him?

Sam began groaning so loudly that the other couple interrupted their own action to witness. Veronica could hardly believe how the broad took so much cock into her. She looked with delight as she relinquished her hold on the wet, hot cock - she could see the throbbing vein on the underside, the crimson tip, and the opening on top which dilated and became smaller, almost as if it were breathing. Then, she miraculously took it back in, little by little, farther in, amazingly deep. When it seemed as if it wasn't possible for any more of the member to disappear, it slid deeper still - inch by arduous inch, half-inch by half, quarter by quarter.

"Oh baby, oh baby," he groaned out.

"Suck 'im, suck 'im!" Marv ejaculated.

That's when Cecile began to apply the pressure. She apparently did this by inhaling through a corner of her mouth, then closing it air-tight which aided her sucking. Sucking created suction, and suction drove the man crazing until he was begging for mercy: it was almost too much for the man to take. Veronica was fascinated by the member, the way it moved in and out of Cecile's mouth. She wanted to get in on that kind of action: suck action. She wanted to feel that throbbing vein, to lick the sweaty underside of his balls, to move her fingers up the entire length of the shaft until she could almost sense the sperm moving up his inner tubes.

Veronica imagined that she might as well learn from such a show and give her own guy some of that kind of stuff. She had Marv (whose eyes were already popping at the thought of getting similar treatment) lie on his back. Then she placed a pillow under his buns. "Here," she said, "just lay that under your manhood." It now appeared that the center of his very being was his genitals - his cock sticking proudly up like a flag pole, his balls hanging swollen and limpid-genitals which were ripe and ready to be manipulated and woman handled. Veronica didn't know where to begin and just hesitated for a second in awe. She didn't know why, but she was tempted to pull on his cock and almost lift him up as if it were some kind of handle, or better yet a leash. But enough of this, she thought: no time for nonsense, just heavy action. Norman knelt over the man and started to rub the skin around his pole. First she ascribed long circles with wide arches all around the top part of his cock where pubic hairs matted above and waited for brushing; then she moved to the opposite side under his thighs where his balls brushed and created slightly pink marks. "You're going to love this," she said, "I know you're going to love this." For a split second she thought of John-but there was no way that he could be having half-way as good a time as she was in the other room; anyway, she didn't have to let him; it was her fantasy.

Veronica began to lower herself in for the kill, like a great female animal ready to pounce. She was stanching out, all right, strutting forward and positioning her tits to add to the excitement. "Suck it, suck it," he almost begged.

Veronica looked down on her object - a hairy bobo if there ever was one. She grabbed on the base of his cock and could immediately feel the torrid heat. "Oh, oh, that's very nice, a nice hot cock." He liked that, liked to have her comment on his manhood (and what man wouldn't when confronted with a sort of ideal womanhood ready to go to any lengths to please him) and he nodded in approval. Norman lowered her lips to the very tip, the very apex of his penis. She knew that was the tender spot, and that the way she handled it could mean the difference between merely a good and a positively great lay, the kind that a man uses as a measuring stick for all other lays after it (Oh, that was okay, he might think, but nothing like the way this girl I once had knew how to do it).

Norman touched the tip with her tongue and could almost feel the abrupt beginning of his hole. Then she took her right hand and squeezed the cock very tightly, until it looked as if she was driving the blood into the tip of his penis - which was rapidly turning burning, almost dangerously red.

"TOO MUCH. THIS IS FUCKING TOO MUCH!" he blurted. Norman knew that was as good as an endorsement, as good as a fucking vote, as good as a unanimous decision, as good as a fucking mandate, to continue and even dare to go beyond this point. Meanwhile, Sam and Cecile were becoming interested, aware that something special was in the works, cognizant that they were witnessing a novel act - and that's the way Veronica wanted it in her imagination. Now that she had the dildo, and the smarts to compose such a scenario, she wanted to go all the way with it. So, she imagined taking that thick, manly stem in her hand, and then in both hands, and pumping it until she had him dangerously close to spurting in her face.

"Easy baby... easy," he pleaded, "I mean, you don't want me to shoot my load too soon now do you." He looked up with big dilated eyes, drawing in air through his heavy, masculine, hairy nostrils.

"No baby," she countered. "That's not the way I want it." Knowing he was now grateful, as well as lustful, he was hers to play with as she wished. "Think it's time for a little meal," she said. Then Veronica looked at a glistening drop of precum which had somehow escaped onto the tip of his cock, just sitting there awaiting some move. Norman thought she'd like to taste it on her tongue. Norman thought she'd like to swallow it. Norman thought she'd like to use it as an appetizer for what would be coming later in bountiful gobs. Sam and Cecile were just sitting there now, taking it all in. Sam was whispering to Cecile something about how quickly Veronica seemed to learn her tricks and then Cecile responded something about how the girl was no youngster just out of Iowa or nothing of the kind. They knew they were dealing with a hot cunt - or that's the way Norman had it in her imagination (the old mind's eye) anyways.

Veronica took the top of his penis in her mouth and instantly tasted the pungent sensation of his cum - or at least the tiny drop of it - right in her mouth. Shit, she thought, if one drop tastes this fantastic, imagine what the whole package is! But Veronica soon became to preoccupied with her task for such pondering. She liked the audience, too. It made her the center of attraction, a new kind of sex queen, to be envied, desired. She knew that Marv wanted her - the way he looked at her breasts, the way he seemed captivated by the way she moved, the way he watched her buns so intensely, all tipped her off that he'd like to get off on her.

After bringing Sam to the point of cumming by a fantastic handjob, she decided to bring him the rest of the way via a mouth job. Slowly she took the shaft into her red, hot mouth, careful not to catch his skin in her teeth, delicately bringing it in to maximize pleasure and minimize anything which isn't pleasure. She had become the bursar of pleasure and knew it; the collector of the port of passion.

Sam began to squirm because he was so excited. He looked as if he were prisoner of his own passion, hips thrust up, back arched, his genitals handled by a stacked broad: "Make me shoot," he whispered in her ear. "Come on baby, you've been taking me to the edge, but a man can't hang there forever. Have a little mercy, girl. Do it, do it." Veronica loved this, loved it because something like this had never in reality happened, but now with her almost magical dildo, with vivid imagination and relentless lust, she was making it happen, painting her own erotic pictures.

"You'll get yours, Sam, don't you worry."

"Now baby, now!" He looked her right in the eye, desperate, "FUCK ME, FUCK ME!" - he was almost out of his mind with passion.

"Come on Veronica," Marv added, backing up his buddy, "give the guy a break. Shoot his load; now's the time."

But Ron was not to be swayed. Even Cecile couldn't help.

"Come on baby do it to him."

"Look, I'm running this little affair, just little old me." She could see that the were all enjoying her little ploy at domination, that it seemed to add an extra erotic layer to the entire orgy.

"Why you little bitch," said Cecile in mock rage. Then she grabbed Veronica by the shoulders and wrestled her to the floor. Nothing could have been more enjoyable to two guys whose cocks had been played with until they were nearly insane and wanted nothing less than to be brought to an even more intense level of passion. The men watched in hot awe as Cecile proceeded to mount a struggling Veronica. They loved Norman's moves as she at tempted to pry the body which had mounted her own loose. They loved to see her push her form out ward until her breasts looked like two mountainous spears which dared Cecile to grab them. Yet Cecile was just as daring and desirous of turning the match into a little more than pure innocent play- acting. With a twist of her neck, she bit Norman just above the nipple, and pushed the woman's breasts painfully together, then more painfully apart. That's when Norman had positively had enough of such nonsense. In an impressive feat of strength Norman turned the tables by ramming her adversary's head against the foot of the bed, then pinning her against the bed post, and finally going straight inside the broad with two fingers. In and out she pushed, because her intention was to make this broad cum hard, make this broad cum as sure as she was being defeated. Harder and faster she pushed. "Stop, stop," Cecile begged, but to an avail.

"How does this feel, huh?" - then Veronica pushed her tits into the woman's face.

"Oh, Norman, yes, yes..." She just kept repeating the affirmative.

Veronica had the entire scene orchestrated, the blow jobs, the wrestling match, the fervid pitch, the hot atmosphere, the obscene tone.

But show - as tempting, as erotic, as highly explicit as it may have been - did nothing to help the two studs unload their cum, for as heavy as the scene had been, no one had yet peaked with a big "O" including Veronica. I want to cum, one thought; I need it thought another; damn, I wish that broad would go all, all out, thought another. The climax approached rapidly, and the men knew that now that the short wrestling exhibition had terminated, the sperm show would commence: it was just a question of who would be the first.

Norman knew what she wanted: she wanted to have a handle on both of those cocks simultaneously. Norman approached Marv, then Sam. She looked at Cecile and got the a-okay (after all, such a show would be dynamite simply to witness).

Suddenly, Veronica was back in her room, the scene completely disintegrated under the onslaught of her telephone. The piercing ring almost sent her up the wall and she ran to answer it in order to shut it up.

"Yes," she said, clearly annoyed.

"Hi, Norman, listen this is Jim from the office."

"Oh, hello, Jim," she replied without a trace of enthusiasm.

"Listen, I was wondering if you'd enjoy catching a movie and dinner with me tomorrow night - I'm sorry about the late notice but I thought I'd be out of town."

Norman didn't even have to consider: not this week end. Nothing mattered outside of her own private, manufactured sexual high.

"No, I'm sorry Jim, but I'm afraid I already have plans."

"Well, just taking a long shot."

After Veronica returned the phone, she realized she had something extraordinary; without any difficulty at all, she returned to her party. Within seconds, she could picture Marv and Sam and Cecile. Deciding she'd disciplined Cecile enough for one party, she motioned for Sam and Marv to approach.

She had them sit on the edge of the bed and positioned herself in the middle. Then, without a hesitation, she began to pump them, giving each equal time. She looked at Sam's face, then Marv; they were flying in the sky, no doubt about that. Each was beginning to flush, and their teeth were starting to show, gritted in positions of aggression. No vag, no wet smack, she was the life of the party. Her rapacious appetite knew no limit, and she wanted more as she felt each shaft get harder. The men began to moan and she could feel them squirm. Cecile was almost a one woman rooting section as she made no qualms about her interest (her very eyes were bulging as she sat on the edge of the large bedroom chair).

"You've got us where you want us baby: go all the way!'

"Do it to them!" Cecile added.

Then it happened. Norman could feel their cocks expand in one final effort, stretching their volume almost beyond the limit in the all-out effort to shoot cum.

"Aggh!" moaned out Sam and as if by chain reaction he was followed by Marv. Instantly cum shot up and was pointed at Norman.

Cecile had to come over to get at some of that action. She pointed Sam's cock up toward her mouth and managed to get several squirts. Sam watched with delight as she swallowed some, and proudly wore a few drops on the edges of her mouth. Veronica had her fill also, wallowing in the viscous juice.

What really happened that night, was poor Veronica had merely spoken with a few other shy ladies, anxiously awaiting John's return, painfully aware he was getting fantastic action. Norman knew now that her weekend fling would be nothing but her own creation here on in. She'd put John through all the things she dreamed of, but had only had the nerve to do just before he gave her the old hook. No, now a new stage would be set.

Veronica pushed the dildo further inside, then pictured John entering, just in time to see his date covered with wild cum.

"Wha..." he exclaimed.

"Come now," Norman answered with impressive presence, "you must have had some idea what was going on. Listen John, I think it's about time that you and I got going, anyway. You know, the night's still young."

In actuality, John had taken Veronica home directly after the party - and barely willing to speak to the man - she told him not to call for a while (after all, she was given no warning she was being taken to an orgy, and no woman likes to admit she is capable of getting cold feet). But now things would be different. Dildo in hand, Norman began to paint more pictures, plan a scene which could make vivid her deepest, most important fantasies.

Veronica lost no time in constructing some fast dialogue, lines flying into her mind like sparks, one urging her to get the hell on the move, another encouraging some more subtle foreplay. But the central, organizing idea was a particular fantasy, a dream which she'd never told anyone about. The truth of the matter is that Norman - as many women of her approximate age and socio-economic class - had one special thing which could get her going like none other, a little quirk of mind, a pet perversion, perfectly suited to a spree with a dildo. You see, our Veronica had a special place in her heart (and more sensual parts) for the young, for fresh virgin (be it male or female) flesh. Now this is not the type of thing which is shared with a girl friend in a casual phone conversation ("Oh, hi Judy... what's new? Oh, I don't know, but I guess one thing on my mind is that I'd like to screw a few fourteen and fifteen- year-old guys-you know, the kind that are still wet behind the ears and have cocks which have grown faster than the rest of their bodies), or shared with a date ("John, did I mention that though I'm really attracted to you, more than anything at all, I'd like to pick up a couple of high school studs, one blond with big muscles, another skinny and dark."). But this could only be a private affair articulated in her own mind, carried out either in complete secrecy or in the setting in which she now found herself. With lightning speed, she began to imagine the type of guys who would drive her to ecstasy for the second time this one particular Friday evening, serve as a follow up to Marv and Sam who had done quite a job on their own, fucking her cunt and driving her all the way home.

No, she'd seen the type of guy she had in mind one too many times, perhaps because of her younger brother, a bratty rogue who'd always bring his friends home and bothered her no end before she'd gone off to college. Troy, who knew he hadn't much on charm, almost seem to play up his lousy qualities to the hilt: he knew his sister liked privacy, he'd do his best to open her door when she was dressing; he knew she got bugged when he walked around nude, he'd shamelessly brandish his big cock as he'd walk to the bathroom; he knew she didn't like him to talk about her sex life with his friends, he'd loudly tell them about her latest fling (complete with the details of her endeavors on the living room couch). But when all was said and done, Veronica had to admit she'd been turned on by some of his friends. She'd watch them as they'd try to cool off in the yard, running through the hose in their little suits, readjusting their goodies when the material clung, lying on their stomachs in the sun, oblivious to the bulge in their pants. One of the guys, an exceptionally good looking junior high school student with too many pimples, especially appealed to her - especially when he tried to make conversation one day, almost choking on his own words.

Veronica had desired him that day several years ago and if she had the courage in those days would have seduced him behind the school or better yet, inside the little tool shed. She could imagine how it could have been: his skinny little body shivering slightly as he shyly asked what she had in mind. Oh, Veronica thought, I thought I'd offer you a little deal... I mean, all of us are in the same boat in a way. Have you ever thought how unfair it is that us kids don't get any real action. Oh, don't play dumb with me you little geezer you. I know you've got the hots for me. But listen, uh, I've got this little accessory here. That's right it's a rubber. From then on in, Veronica thought, it could have been easy. The glint in his eye, the bulge in his pants, the way he made no motion to take his leave or tried to stop her when she moved closer, all told that he wanted the action himself, possibly even worse than Veronica.

It was not a comfortable spot, but it could have done well enough, Veronica thought. She remembered there was a soft spot in the corner where there were a few old pillows conveniently strewn across the floor, and the pile of straw right near the lawn mower - dead, cut grass which could now serve as the perfect mattress. It would have been as easy as moving closer to the young stud and helping him master his fear, first by putting her hand on his leg and rubbing it about, and when he was used to that, moving on to even more fertile ground up on the upper thigh right under the crotch, rubbing the guy, who now, wouldn't make a move in the opposite direction if his life depended on it.

Veronica wished she had simply said to him: "I want you, all the way. I want to show you how to fuck." Sure, it was shocking, but he'd get over the bruskness when he felt her hand begin to grasp his cock, her breath bathing his face, and her lips approach his own. He'd get over everything when he realized that this superbly stacked broad was ready to take matters in hand and do the steering while he merely sat back and took it all in (or let it all out, as the case may be). Veronica imagined her excitement, fervidly wrenching his fly open, almost tearing the fabric of his jeans in her excitement and determination. She realized that the guy, a mere school boy, had probably never been blown - hell, he probably never had a girl touch his man parts before - and that this would be a big day for him. She imagined that his eyes would bulge, he'd attempt a slight mock resistance but then give into her aggressive moves which, though shocking at first, soon got to him.

Veronica put her hand on his jeans right over the bulge, feeling his body jerk up and his lips tighten, the red leaving in an instant. Oh come on, she'd tell him, don't be afraid now... because after all, you have to remember that all of this Is the natural part of life, natural as walking. With that, she'd place his hand right on her breast and push it until she felt her nipple receded beneath the surface. You like that, she imagined telling him, I know you like that. Here's something I think you'll like even more. She quickly loosened the buttons of her blouse and pulled it off of her chest, revealing a white-cupped brassiere, a bra straining to do its duty and keep her womanhood from popping out, a task all the more difficult as the broad arched her back, loosened her shoulders until the straps fell down on her arms and threatened to fall from her body. She wanted the boy to strip her naked, topless, to prepare her for the real action: come on, she imagined, take off my bra and suck my tits, suck my big, fat tits.

Veronica became glazed as she thought through this little scene. The boy became brave and his youthful hands lowered her cups slowly, revealing her cleavage, then more cleavage, and in an instant removing enough of the synthetic to expose the very tips of her red, fat cherries. It seemed almost too much for the youth to take, who quickly stiffened and moved backward as if he'd just seen a treasure box filled with so much booty that it almost defied the imagination. She'd tell him straight out, suck it and lathe my tits until I cry for you to stop. Come on, don't be afraid! That's the way it could have happened, the feeling of his greasy adolescent wave stroking against her chest and his hot, syrupy lips go down on her tits, his spittle seeping onto her all over, his long, spindly legs beginning to search out space between hers, his knee becoming his bravest body part and moving up toward her cunt. That's it, she'd encourage, that's the way to do it.

She'd kiss his lips, his nose and put her tongue in side the convolutions of his ear, until she could breathe right into his inside so that she sounded like a great ocean. She could hear the boy moan in deep desire, gritting his teeth and positioning his hips so that the broad would have easier access to his swollen manhood. Not so hard, is it, she'd reassure him, not expecting or particularly wanting a response.

She'd put her hand right under his jockies until his swollen, sweaty balls were in her palms and she was able to squeeze them to taste - squeeze them so that she could feel their soft consistency, and their heavy expectancy, filled as they were with hot, male cum.

"SUCK ME, SUCK ME GODDAMNIT!" he'd finally yell out in desperation. That's the way she liked her young studs, all hot and bothered and almost out of control in their desire, and yes, their dependency. This stud hadn't even had anything to drink - no scotch, no highball, no whiskey sour, no screwdriver - nor had he hit the weeds and pills - no downers, uppers, grass, hash, acid, nothing. Veronica leaned forward and gave him a body hug, pressing her tits into his chest, nearly driving him wild with pleasure, with the magnificent feeling of her breasts against him. He cupped them with his hand, twisting and turning the flesh, making the sides of her boobs pink and then red from the pressure of his lustful probing.

"Oh yes, rub them, rub them nice."

Encouraged, almost made with desire, the boy lowered his head and felt the left nipple with his tongue, turning his tongue, covering the cherry with his own saliva then sucking it into his mouth where he almost ate the organ, pressing into it with his teeth.

"You're too much," he added in between licks, thrilled with her form. My, he thought, there's nothing like this, fresh, solid, waiting to get it, waiting to get fucked even by a young, inexperienced cock like mine.

The boy took his hand and slowly slid it under the girl's waist band until he could feel the upper ridge of her panties, the band which hung several inches below her waist, then pressed his fingers against her abdomen - a white, smooth area which he wanted to bury his face in. But there were even greater pleasures below, and moving his hand lower as he took into his lungs breath mixed with the girl's own, he felt her pussy hair - thick, luxurious hair which curled and covered his fingers until they were almost buried in it.

"Lower, lower, go down lower on me until you stick your fingers in my cunt," she begged.

"You've got it baby," he answered, feeling older already, then made his words good, opening the lips of her pussy, pushing one, then two fingers inside until he could feel her inner organs, wet, juicy, a honey-pot of sexual goodies. "You've got it baby," he repeated, feeling his cock grow even harder as he probed the girl's insides, making her groan with pleasure, making her beg for him to cum inside her.

"Listen," she whispered intensely, "Let's go over here where we can stretch out." She led the way, the boy watching her splendid ass, the swing in her hips, the incredible sensuality of her movements. His cock stuck proudly in front, a rammer of incredible proportions - six inches at least - a shaft which wanted more than anything to gain entry into that sweet woman, his balls hanging down full and swollen, his arms swaying at his sides as he increased his stride.

After a pause, the girl lowered her head, admiring the glans, the red rim around the top, the dark ring of skins below the glans, almost like a cock ring, the length of the proud shaft, the way it was slightly thicker at the base and hooked around the top, the way his balls hung underneath the cock, the way he looked, proud and tall. "Come on," he said, mustering his courage, "give it a good suck."

Veronica opened her mouth and put the cock in side, feeling the heat which radiated from it, almost burning into her like a furnace, like a sex furnace, filled with a heat which almost burned her mouth, then went deeper inside of her, down her pipes, into her inner depths. He started to undulate his hips a bit, to help her get more of his cock inside, to help her almost swallow it. He was amazed at the girl's enthusiasm, and, clutching at her shoulders, she was able to take the entire shaft until it disappeared entirely within her mouth before she released it, hot and glowing, covered with the saliva from Veronica's mouth.

He was so excited, he almost came, so he pushed back Norman in order to hold it in a while longer.

"Oh, kiss my tits," Veronica almost pleaded, "kiss them all over, cover them."

The guy leaned over her, then rested on his side, covering her upper stomach with his palm - which now sweated with desire - then pushing his fingers through her thick, brown hair. That's when, completely hot with passion, his cock just bursting at the seams, all the more straining enveloped in the rubber Veronica had slid on it, he slid his stem in side of Norman, slowly, relishing every second as he penetrated, taking in deeps gasps of air, his legs tightening and mingling with Norman's. Deeper he lunged, until he was inside, completely inside of her cavernous hole, buried in her pulsing pussy.

"Oh yeah," pump me harder, harder," she pleaded, her eyes closed and her brain swimming in passion, the passion of pure desire, of wanting her pussy fucked and his creamy cum shot inside of her hole.

"Baby, wait," the boy pleaded. "I'm gonna cum; we better gear down." He took his stem out of her pussy, now wet with her pussy-juice, then pulled his body back and perched up on Norman's hips so he could get at her quim. She curled her legs around his back, pushing his head toward her until he only had to lower his head a few inches to slide his tongue inside of her pussy.

He began to taste her quim, salty, womanly, juicy pussy - the best combination of sensations he could imagine - then felt her thighs pushing against the side of his ears until he couldn't hear anything, only see her mouth open wide in a gasp of pleasure. He felt the heavy weight of her buttocks in his hands as he grasped them and looked at her huge mounds which were pushed up close to her very neck.

It was too much for the guy to take and he felt his cum rising in his balls and into the lower part of his cock, but not wishing to shorten the spree, he took his mouth out of her pussy, then lifted Norman's body upward toward his face so that he could give a little mouth action to her tits.

Veronica knew what he had in mind and immediately requested he go at it, pressing her tits together so they formed a massive cleavage. He buried his head between the spheres, then she pushed them tighter together, pressing into his nose and mouth, bathing him in her mammaries.

"Oh, baby, too much, too much."

"You like those tits, don't you... nice fat tits."

"Oh, baby," he said, "I want to eat those tits, yeah, eat 'em up good."

"They're all yours.

"Man, when I used to serve burgers, I'd look at the girls, but I don't think any of them could have been like you."

Veronica could feel that she had the boy, completely swept him off his feet. She'd ride with this one all the way (at least in her mind) and might even see him again, fuck him again, suck him again and repeat all the ecstasy of this night. Compared with the other guys she'd balled he was pure stud: at least in the high school category.

"Come on boy," she urged, "fuck me again; I want your cock all the way in, all the way!"

"I can't wait any longer either; this is it, the big one."

The boy rammed his stem inside of Veronica, so hard and fast and sudden, that she opened her mouth wide, closed her eyes and cried out, "Oohh! Yes, all the way." - at least that's how Veronica wanted to imagine it.

Veronica kept her fantasy going, picturing the lad pushing from the hips, in and out, out and in, fast until his entire body was tight as taut rope, a dynamo of energy ready to explode in one great sexual moment, the ultimate orgasm.

"Fuck me, fuck me," she cried out.

Images went through Veronica's mind; of guys running nude, five, ten, fifteen of them, their balls hanging down, their cocks proudly erect in front, all after her; of the sight of her teenager's cock right before she took it in her mouth; of the way his balls hung, heavy and swollen. She could feel his weight on top of her then, heavy and massive as it pushed against her lighter form, crushing her breasts, his hips digging into her own hips but because of his size, his head perched almost on top of her own so that he could dig his nose into her hair.

The boy was all the way in now, fucking her with everything he had, pushing his stem all the way in. Veronica's dark eyes almost rolled into her head, her long eyelashes battering away (a movement which she found especially alluring).

"Harder, faster," she pleaded.

"Baby, I'm going to fuck you like there's no tomorrow... oh, yes, it's coming, it's coming nice and hot."

Norman felt her body growing tenser, her entire body getting ready to lurch into the big "O" but she held back then managed to roll them both over so that she was on top.

"Oh, yes, yes," the boy said when he felt her body laying on his own. The boy pushed the recent graduate up and then pulled her legs on his sides so that she was sitting on him and she had him clamped in a torrid cock-hold. Her tits looked absolutely gargantuan, swinging wildly to and fro as she swayed her torso from side to side. He couldn't resist grabbing them, so, feeling her hold on his cock get even tighter, he grabbed her breasts and squeezed them - one in each hand - until she moaned out.

Faster and harder he pumped, making their pubic hair meet, then pulling it apart, sliding his cock almost all the way out to the tip, then thrusting it in with a savage fury. He was close, knew he was, but couldn't and wouldn't hold back any further.

The boy pushed his cock in, then, in one sudden burst of energy penetrated all the way, tensed and then exploded into an incredible orgasm: "Agghhh, oooh," he moaned in ecstasy.

Veronica was soon to follow, her body just as filled with the pleasure of the moment then climaxing until she felt her spasm come, a little later but just as intense as the boy's-a tightening of her entire body until she thought she would freeze like a log, then a melting until the connections of her brain were shot and her body spent of all energy - or that's the way she imagined it. But the amazing thing was, lying there, getting it on, she felt it just as intensely as if it were really happening.

But this guy was such a solid image, and such a fantastic fuck, that she wanted to take her fantasy a step further; stage two. She decided to be a little daring in her imagination, and take the young stud into her home. Well, it wouldn't be that crazy, because, after all, her parents were gone on a little trip, and there was almost no chance of being caught by them. She decided that she wanted more than any thing to take a shower with this young cock. She took the boy into her bathroom, then turned on the water - adjusting the water to lukewarm, then hot so that the bathroom would steam up - and then got under the water, her hair flattening against her forehead, her breasts shining from the water and her pubic hair matted against her crotch-like a thick, heavy rug cut in the shape of a perfect triangle.

Veronica imagined moving closer to water so that there was room for Ned behind her. But just then, the bombshell switched gears and decided to take a real shower. She dropped the dildo (knowing it could get clogged in the water) and walked into her bathroom. She turned on the water, just as she imagined doing it with the young stud, and felt the warm water pounce against her tits and nipples, making them erect and fat. It was even easier now to imagine the fun water games she could play with her young, hot stud.

Norman motioned for the guy to get closer and could see that he was already very excited, almost as hot as in their encounter in the shed - just as if he hadn't shot his load just minutes before. In a few seconds, the boy slid his cock into her cunt, this time fucking her from the rear. The boy, feeling that slight ache in his cock which told him he'd just cum, put his arms around the front of Veronica's body until he had perched her tits above them, then, lifting, his arms higher, he pushed her bosom higher still until the spheres were about at high as they could go.

"Yeah, feel my tits, feel my big tits," she moaned. He squeezed a little harder, until she groaned, then squeezed harder still until she pushed his hands downward in order to give her tits a breather.

Feeling an incredible surge of strength, hardly able to control the impulse, expanding his chest by taking great quantities of air the boy actually lifted her weight to settle down on his arms, allowing just enough of her weight to settle down on his cock. Veronica was so hot, she pushed against the tiles with all her might, screaming out, "Do it again, fuck me again, over and over, yes... yes... yes!"

Faster he pushed, harder, not holding back for a second.

"Okay, fuck me. Let it cum!!"

But the boy had his own ideas, and he took his shaft out from inside Veronica, then turned her around until she faced him, her eyes and two red cherries staring him in the face, ready for anything he might choose to do.

He pushed her body down toward him until her massive melons were squeezed against his chest, then lowered her slowly and evenly until her bosom touched his cock, electrifying it as if by magic, making it get even more hard. She's one motherfucker, he thought, one helluva motherfucker, and I'm gonna cover that pair with some nice cream. He positioned his cock between the spheres, pressed them together and started pumping.

"Yes, fuck my tits, fuck them!" she encouraged, her body now supported by her knees, the boy standing well above her, his hands digging into her back in passion. "Yeah, fuck them, yes!" Veronica even stuck her own fingers in her cunt, making her own passion reach to a point nearing his, but of course, not quite. "I can feel it, yeah, that's it, pump some more." His cock was straining and his entire body was involved in the task of shooting his load, then, right before he felt himself squirt, he moved back from the girl.

"Ohh, yea baby," he groaned between his teeth. He didn't have to tell her what he wanted. She just knew. Within an instant, Norman grabbed his throbbing prick and stuck it right in her mouth, right before he came. His cream poured right out, all over Norman's lips, sliding down the sides of her mouth, but she loved it, loved to feel it and to even swallow it. Exhausted, he let his body slide down onto Veronica's, but she didn't mind a bit, loved feeling his weight over her own, feeling his cock slowly go limp, glistening with cum and encrusted with some of her own drying woman juice.

The water was still pouring down on the couple, Norman imagined, just as it was really pouring down on herself, cleaning off the boy's cock and washing the cum from her own lips, cooling off their heat.

Norman hadn't had enough of this guy yet, and was determined not let him go so soon. From his big, fat distended balls which drove her absolutely mad with passion; to his incredible schlong, so long and fat; from his marvelous legs, long hairy, not a little spindly; to his great buns, thin yet very touchable; he drove her absolutely mad.

Norman got out of her shower and thought how she'd like to end this little affair. Sure, she could merely bid him adieu, wish him luck and call that the end of it, but everything was so intensified now, and at the same time so simple. No, she would stretch this one a bit, get on with it and take this guy to the limits, even beyond what they experienced in the shed and in the shower.

"Listen," she imagined telling him, "why don't you just hang loose a little bit and rest up."

He looked a little concerned. "Oh, I don't know..."

"Don't worry, really. My parents are gone. There's no chance of being caught. And anyways, don't you want to prove to me that you can make it a third time around - I know you have it in you."

Veronica took the boy to the side and then wiped him off. She like wiping off his smooth back, moving downward to just above the she on his buns, then drying the crack in his ass before proceeding to the small of his back, around the front, and the best part, his crimson, swollen balls. Norman took the towel and then gently tapped the balls, patting them first very slightly and then more firmly until she could feel their distinct weight right through the material. Norman moved upward in order to get a hold of that stem - no longer erect, but still swollen and impressive in size, fronting his balls, seemingly growing out of his dark curly bush like some great branch with a fantastic budding head. Norman saw the skin begin to crinkle under her touch and enjoyed watching him, much against his will, becoming excited once again from her manipulations. The cock seemed to have a mind of its own, first growing slightly, and then - right in front of her eyes - developing into a powerful shaft once again.

"Now," she said, "I knew you had it in you. Here you are, not even dry from our last little romp, and already for some more hot action."

"Guess you're right, Veronica."

Veronica imagined that she would like to have a chance at this hot guy in bed - conventional, but then again, she hadn't tried this one with this young stud. Leading him to the bedroom, she glanced at the refrigerator. That was it, she thought! She pictured his big, juicy lips, his ravenous expression, and knew that the right touch lie just inside the little ole kitchen. Within minutes, the young nympho had prepared the perfect little sexual feast: a bowl of whipped cream, fresh strawberries, a flask of red wine; sliced peaches and a large bowl of yogurt. Returning with assorted goodies on a tray, the boy was at first surprised but he soon caught on, delighting in the prospects.

"Oh, I see it's time to satisfy our hunger," he said innocently.

"You've got the idea already, I see."

Ron couldn't decide what to do first. He looked very tempting on the bed; from his long legs, stretching on the pillow; from his cock and balls which were already swelling, to his smooth midsection, freshly matted with a thin layer of hair.

Norman decided to get right down to business, approaching his minuscule nipples with the whipped cream, then favoring the strawberries. "Your cherries could use a little reddening, I think," she said, then crushed a large berry right on his left nipple, the red juice merging with his own crimson, then the fruit itself entirely covering the bud with its own brand of sensuality. Norman liked that, and encouraged, she so continued, until both his nipples were covered with fruit. Without delay, Norman stuck out her tongue, then moved herself into position until she could poignantly taste the sensation of merging salt, sweat, and that particular unique fragrance of man. "Mmmm," she leaked out, "you taste really good for such a young fellow."

Veronica, snapping back to reality, realized that she wanted to make her entire fantasy more vivid, so she want to her own kitchen and fortunately found some ripe strawberries, which she promptly prepared in a ball, also approximating as closely as possible the remainder of the feast. Now, she thought, I'm really ready to jump in on this fantasy. After all, what good's the thought without the sensation? Who's to stop helping the whole thing along a little bit? It wasn't cheating, nothing of the sort, if for no other reason, that in masturbatory fantasies, the sole practitioner sets the ground rules: another little dividend of the solitaire sport.

Veronica returned to her delightful little party. "Norman," the lad quipped, "are you sure you don't mind messing up your bed like this?"

"My friend," she answered, "that's really what a bed is for, you know; you'll learn that when you get older, you young stud." Norman walked closer to her prey, putting the whipped cream in position in order to facilitate her little plans. Lets see, she thought, perhaps a little of this fluff in the right place, like on his buns, spreading it all around until his ass looks like the top of a cake, or better yet, over his little chest until his nipples are once again covered and his little hair no longer visible, except for a few particularly long strands, breaking through the sea of fluff like a few tall grasses break through the snow in dead winter. No, she thought this has got to be hard core, no two ways about it. She'd go for the guy's fabulous prick, all shriveled, badly needing some real attention.

Norman applied some of the heavenly stuff on the guy until she could feel his prick rise once again to its full glory. Little by little, it filled with blood and got harder, growing up on his abdomen, doubling, almost tripling it in total volume, like some gargantuan growth, but a fabulous enticing growth tipped with the most fascinating red cap of sensitive, exposed skin. Oh, how she wished to devour that little sundae she'd prepared immediately, but she knew that this sort of affair is best held out to maximum duration, like a drinking party fueled by a particularly delicious, but not particularly spiked punch. She covered the shaft (now in its full glorious 11-inch size) with cream until she could see none of his own skin, but was instead faced with what looked like, for want of better simile, a stucco harpoon. Stucco harpoon? Why not.

Veronica started to eat her little feast, but first decided to top the whole thing with a nice little strawberry; she marveled on how it eroticized his cock, making it look like some artist's representation. Slowly, she sucked on the berry until she squeezed the red juice out of it, then let it drool down the side of her mouth in sensuous abandon. "Baby, I'm going to eat your whole cock!" she said, suddenly starved out of her mind with more than one kind of appetite.

"Do it to me, do it to me," he begged.

"Nothing is gonna stop me little boy," she answered.

She imagined hearing a car, and her heart jumped for one second. Imagine being caught like this: her friend strewn on her parent's bed naked, an orgy of food surrounding the two of them, and worse yet, Veronica ravenously eating cream for the environs of the lad's fat cock.

"Eat me," he groaned.

"Like this?" she asked, taking a big portion of cream in her mouth.

"Yes that's it, eat me naked. Eat all of that cream off me and the make me cream; make me make cream. I want to shoot in your fucking mouth."

She realized the boy was almost mad with desire. After all, she hadn't let the poor boy get any real relief, for as soon as he'd shot his load, she'd go at him at get him excited before he could bask in the release, before he could get completely limp, she was mercilessly stimulating him, before he could fall off into a sweet slumber; Veronica was making him ache for her body-her cunt, her mouth, her ass, her great tits - with every bit the passion he originally possessed. She had no mercy at all.

"Baby, faster, faster," he moaned, obviously aching from the cock.

Veronica could hardly wait to do her special number on the guy. Without hesitation, without the slightest pause, she took a surprisingly large portion of his prick into her mouth, covering the sides of the oral orifice with the thick cream, which, mixing with her own saliva, soon lost it viscosity and started to, to put it plainly, dribble. The boy looked at this and was more turned on than ever, because now part of her was mixing with that organic fluff.

"Suck it, suck it good, Norman," he begged.

Norman could hardly believe the fantastic taste sensation. She'd always liked whipped cream, generously dapping it on her homemade sundaes, or requesting double portions in the ice cream parlor, but she'd never connected cream to sex. Now, she was having it all, her taste titillated by that cream and her cunt tickled by the sight and feel and sensations of this young, ripe stud.

Norman had to pause in her own kitchen as she pondered this scene She could hardly believe how real it all seemed, from his sinuous body, to way she imagined using him as a lunch table.

Back in her reverie, Norman licked the cream from his entire cock, until he was naked down to the base, where the cream mingled with his black pubics until they looked like little threads in a sea of white. How she wanted to lick the rest of that cream and make him entirely naked once again; how she wanted to crush his swollen balls and squeeze out the remainder of his sweet cum until it mixed with the cream and created a sexual ambrosia which would, could only drive her absolutely wild. How she wanted to suck his balls, and put them both in her mouth until she would suck them the way she used to dissolve sour balls; only these were much better.

"Eat the rest of it," he begged, "eat the rest of that cream off of me." Norman obliged and stuck her tongue out until she felt the coarse texture of his moistened cock hairs. "That's it, Norman, now eat the rest of the cream." This she did in an instant until there was no more sight of the heavenly white stuff.

"Now its my turn," she added, "what's fair is fair."

"All's fair in love and war," he replied.

Norman didn't like that and erased it from her imagination. It wasn't right somehow; made him seem too mature, too old a remark from a young smart punk who still couldn't believe the kind of action he was getting from a broad with a few years on him.

Veronica made herself very excited just thinking about having her cunt eaten - and not just in the conventional sense, but with the added attraction of real food. Norman felt the boy apply some of the whipped cream. It was cool and fresh, and made her entire body tingle with the excitement of it, from the inside of her womanhood, up her spine, and finally in the pleasure centers of her brain. She could feel the cream fill her big hole, and sense the boy's excitement as he watched her cunt turn from a crimson shade to a snowy white - all creamy, all ready for his tongue and lip and mouth action. "Come on," she said, "let's really give it a go; fill it till it can't hold any more."

The boy applied the cream as if it were liquid gold, taking tiny quantities of it in his fingers in order to prolong the process, dabbing a drop here, a drop there, smelling her cunt as her woman scent mixed with the dairy product. He sniffed her and prudently surveyed the area, getting so close that he got a dab of the fluff on the tip of his nose, a development Norman took advantage of by moving herself upward and licking it off. She knew he liked that, liked having her hot tongue touch him on the tip of the nose, taking off the cool whip but adding something better, the hot, luxuriant gloss of her steamy saliva, shining him up as if he was being glazed for some orgiastic barbecue, preparing him for the biggest sexual feast of his life.

Norman was almost filled now, her cunt bulging with the cream, and the sheer heat of her womanhood beginning to melt the substance, turning the viscous material into a watery, slithery mixture which made her opening all the more sleazy, all the more desirable to the young stud. With a couple of final loving dabs, Norman was ready. "Okay," she said, "eat me now, eat it all up my young friend."

Norman could hardly believe how fantastic it felt when his tongue reached inside of her and began to imbibe the love juice. She thought she would have to moan out with sheer delight (not that she was in the slightest inhibited) but she held it in, maximizing the tension which was building inside of her womanhood and inside of her very skull. Meanwhile, the young stud's hands were not idle. He instinctively knew that a little massage - in the breasts, on the nipples, on her sides, along her back, up and across the insides of her thighs - could only enhance the total effect. First, as he held his head down inside of her cunt, he started to caress her shoulders, plump, well-rounded and womanly forms that they were, so delightful in texture, so perfect in formation. He began to squeeze them harder, a movement which almost Bent shivers down her spine, and which managed, all the while, to push her breasts together until she sported the most fantastic cleavage down the front of her breasts. The boy was apparently so excited by this he had to momentarily abandon cunt in order to partake. He took his cream and slowly applied it to the tips of her cherries, creating a sort of costume, a costume which at first just covered the tips of her nipples, the entire nipples, and finally the fat underside of her tits. He paused for several seconds to admire his handiwork, and it was something at that. She looked draped in a fantastic bra, strapless, backless, and for that matter, almost topless - but in no sense shitless.

"Go ahead," she encouraged, "Suck them, suck my tits until they're naked again."

That was enough to have him touching the very edge of the cream with his tongue. Evidencing a restraint which belied his years, he slowly but surely made the little top even more abbreviated. He enjoyed the cream, but even more so the process of stripping Veronica naked. Slowly, sensually, he stripped away more of her frontal covering until she was nude just above the nipples. He began to ache to see those fat tits entirely nude once again, so he slurped away quickly, holding her arms at her sides almost as if to make the girl his mock captive. She was naked, except for some tiny spogs of white on both her nipples, which he quickly dissolved by two crafty swoops of the tongue.

"Suck them, suck them... do it to me!"

The boy went down on her tits harder than she imagined possible, but she loved the almost painful sensation as her nipples strained to remain attached to her breasts. She could feel her blood rise within, but once again, her cunt ached to be relieved of the rest of the cream.

"Come on, my friend," she said, "you really shouldn't ignore the rest of me."

With that cue, the boy went down on her once again, slurping, eating her out, until Veronica yelled out, "This is the greatest, this is the greatest fuck of my entire life!"

Veronica woke early the next morning and quickly looked all around her. She was amazed to see that she'd been so exhausted by her imaginary romps (which were in substance physically very real) that she'd fallen asleep on the rug in her front room. She was still nude and her tits were pink from all the woman handling. The doorbell began to ring, but the girl made a quick decision. She'd go on a total durge this weekend - no visitors, no going out, no diversions - and wouldn't let. Anything - not even an opportunity for the real thing - get in the way of her solo dance.

She thought quickly: there were several possibilities; from preparing a lazy breakfast, complete with eggs and toast; to taking another shower and preparing her own body for the coming festivities; from getting right down to some heavy action with the electric cock; to just letting her imagination take her any old place that it might.

Veronica decided upon the latter, and her first thought was that she hadn't quite settled the score with John the Con. She restaged that party complete with its orgiastic ramifications, but now she wanted more of the same, more group sex, more kinky experimenting which would go beyond any thing which ever happened with one of the boys from her funky office.

Immediately she imagined calling John and laying it right on him: listen, she would say. Don't you think we should go to another party tonight, just like last night. If he acted hurt that he didn't get on in the real action, she would just say it was his own fault; if he said he had enough of her wild ways, she would say that he owed it to himself to let her teach him a few things; if he said that he couldn't take any more of such hot action, that he was too timid, she'd tell him she'd make a man out of him. To make a long story short, when a young woman with a dildo, and with a vivid imagination, is painting her own sex scenes, she doesn't have many obstacles to overcome, and within minutes Veronica orchestrated a car scene, John driving, and herself helping with directions for their second hot party in two nights.

"Listen," he said, "I don't know many of the people."

"Come off it John. You have to get over your own shyness - where's it going to get you?"

He didn't answer which didn't matter since they were rapidly approaching the affluent home which would be the scene of the crime. John pulled into the driveway of a large ranch house, "Well, this is it." The host was already on the lawn ready to greet his guests, a good-looking blond man in his early thirties, middle height, wearing an open-necked shirt, tight flare pants and a pair of boots.

"How do you do," he said, "please come in. You know we have a special treat tonight; I have some footage which is just super, I mean, some fine portraiture, really fine portraiture, to say nothing of my treatment of intercourse, the best in naturalistic pornography." He led his new guests inside to his living room where he already had a projector set up and a large screen, much larger than your average home movie screen. "Listen, Don's in the other room smoking some grass, which is okay be cause he's seen this stuff - oh, you two are welcome to some if you like, but as a personal favor, I would appreciate it if you'd hold off until after the viewing, because you'll appreciate it more this way. Okay, why don't we begin."

Two other women, Claire and Lu, watched the screen which began in complete darkness, then became more light until the form of a torrid blonde was visible, riding on something, as her body was moving up and down. Soon, somehow, the director managed to have her clothes magically stripped from her body as if by the wind, first blouse, then bra, until her torso was naked (or at least all of it which was visible from the waist up) at which point great gusts of wind blew against her so that her breasts were pushed up and down and her hair went back, pulled off her forehead.

Veronica was incredibly turned on by this. For that matter, she hadn't been to many porno flicks, even though she could have gone many times in the past. It was just that the guys from the office she'd gone out with never seemed to go for that sort of thing, unless it was due to the fact that Norman herself was so inhibited. But the images Veronica imagined the director creating, basking in her own sensuality and the physical sensations of the wind, made her want not only to be in the picture with the woman, but to make love to her.

The picture continued and now the camera angle moved into a subjective shot from the woman's point of view, looking down, so that she could see the man she was mounting, none other than the film maker. Bill. Bill pushed his head into her face, then buried his cock into her cunt, a closeup of his face showing his mouth open and his eyes alive with pleasure. Finally, locked in each other's loins, the couple turned over and over, rolling around some downward slope which didn't seem to have a bet torn.

Veronica imagined watching the two women watching the film.

Claire: Claire was a dark type, tanned and healthy, but in her own way quite exotic. Her breasts were nothing less than huge, proudly bulging under her sweater like two balloons, round and full. She looked as if she'd been manufactured expressly for sex, for enjoying a full-time romp with men, with boys, with girls and especially with women. Her arms were folded on her lap, a lap which looked like it had to contain the hottest, wettest, most fulsome and desirable cunt in town. She proudly had her legs stretched out in front of her body, legs which were curved like few others, thin from the thigh down but not meager, just long and lean enough to accentuate her womanly contours, all lines leading upwards until the eye is inevitably lead to her alluring pussy, covered by a short dress, but somehow promising to be naked as soon and as completely as possible. Her black hair fell down on her shoulders, in front of her chest, and finally moved outward with the curve of her bosom, hair which looked like it could advertise for a beauty dressing, shimmering, the kind of hair that a man wants to shoot his load into, the kind of hair which could be intermingled with a man's nuts, with his cock, with his own pubic hair, the kind of hair which, as the rest of her body, was made for sex.

Lu: Lu was the blonde in the room, and if Claire's breasts can be termed gigantic at J-cup, Lu's were at the least, extra-large (not quite as mammoth at H-cups as her friend's, but no small tomatoes either). Lu looked like she was ready to get it from every angle: her mouth, open and expectant, her arms, wrapped around her own torso just below the breasts which made them stick out even further; her eyes, wide and full, the pupils expanded to maximal opening. This was a specimen of a woman, a shining, radiant beauty, ready to pull down her pants and display to any willing partner - be it female or male - that she was every bit as good in bed as she looked.

Meanwhile, the film kept flashing in front of the viewers, a scene of now three naked forms rolling and romping together until finally coming to a sudden halt, entwined within each other's limbs. There were two males and the one woman, both men anxiously feeling her body, perhaps competing to be the first one inside of her enticing cunt. The woman spread her legs and exposed her pulsing pussy, creating an opportunity which neither of the men ignored, pushing their full, heavy cocks in that direction. But one clearly but the other, so the loser brought his cock up toward the woman's mouth as she was being penetrated down below. She groaned out at first when she was entered, then composed herself as she took the other man's cock in her mouth. She was on her back now, her body covered from the waist down by the man fucking her, his legs plastered against her own, his arms stretched out on each side of her body, his mouth open in pure ecstasy. The other man was on his knees and managed to point his cock directly down at her, positioning the stem so that eating it was as simple as a tilt of the head, an opening of the mouth, and a good suck emanating from within. There was no dialogue, no sound, but its dream-like qualities made it one of the sexiest sights Veronica had ever witnessed - and to think that it was all purely the product of a masturbatory imagination.

Harder and faster the two men stuck their peckers into the respective openings, engorging her with their manhood. She could not even cry out if she had wanted to, for her mouth was entirely filled with that hairy hobo, pressing fervidly, passionately into her orality. Oh, fuck her, Veronica thought, fuck her until she begs you to stop. She imagined what it would be like to have the exclusive use of two men like that, one of them concentrating on her pussy, the other lathing her breasts, or giving her some mouth action like in the picture. She imagined how exciting it would be to draw two erect penises up to her face and feel them against her lips, then compare them for size, for hardness, for consistency as well as the parameters of visual effect (color, form, design). Yes, it would be sheer heaven, an ultimate in sexual experiments.

But she had no desire to cut the movie off at such an early stage. She glanced at Lu who was obviously just as enraptured as herself, then at Claire, whose very eyes seemed glued to the screen, but not wishing to miss out on the action herself, Veronica set her imagination exclusively on the screen once again.

There was a closeup of one of the guy's faces. He was grimacing now and looked desperate, had that expression that all men have right before cumming - of pleasure-pain, of almost going out of their minds. He pulled his cock out of her mouth and pushed it against her tits and just as suddenly and jerkily as his motions, his cream poured all over her nicely rounded tits, first several drops, then larger drops, which drooled down the sides of her spheres and made her very nipples glisten. She watched in wonderment as the guy's cock seemed to get even harder still, filled with fluids, ejecting its own plea sure stuff, grown to a size almost beyond the maximum capacity. She imagined the strength of the male orgasm, so different from the female - one huge intensive rope of cum which could dissolve the strongest man's energy, make him the innocent victim of any woman's whimsies. Oh, she'd like those two cocksuckers to be her slaves. She fantasized having them tied up, their huge 10-inch cocks bulging as she shamelessly stimulated them, then dropped their trousers and stripped them of their underwear; she imagined blowing them as they impotently attempted to bring up their knees and push back her face but were prevented by the ropes tied just below their groins; she imagined the confusion on their faces as they hopelessly gave way to passion although they attempted to hold themselves back, for what is more humiliating than to be raped, to be captive of a female.

But such fantasy dissolved under the dominant motif of the fucking movie, the sexy celluloid which held untold fancies and limitless perspectives and angles. A low-angle shot showed the woman just as she turned over on her side and exposed her fantastic buns, two perfectly shaped spheres, parted smoothly by a crack which displayed just the bottom side of her furry pussy. It was a delicate, torrid, and all too exciting pose, especially for the man who had taken his cock from her cunt, and was yet to cum. Come on, Veronica thought, cum on her now, take that fantastic prick and cum right in her cunt, giving all you've got to that broad.

And this is precisely what followed, the stud sticking his rod right into her cunt as they lay on their sides, the other gentleman falling to the side exhausted, holding his rapidly wilting cock between his fingers, wrenc