Wendy Takes a Shot of Vanilla Part two
The phone rang. It was 3 AM on Thursday. The boy awoke and fumbled around for it. It was someplace under his hoodie by his desk. He found it and answered it, half rolling away from his sl**ping roommate in his bunk so as not to wake him.
“Hello Vic! How is my nice hunk of Vanilla dick?” It was Wendy. She was horny, excited, and on the phone.
“I’m good,” he said trying to keep his voice down, “what are you doing? It’s a little after three,”
“I am thinking about you; about your cock, and about being fucked by you. I’m thinking about your smell and the taste of your cum (giggle),” Wendy replied matter of factly back to him, “and I am sooooo hor-r-r-r-r-n-e-e-e! I could just SCREAM! I need your cock and I need to feel the splash of your cum on my face; down my neck, over my tits, and way up in my cunt! I’m jonezin for you cum, lover!”
“You like the way it smells n tastes?” Vic asked, (already feeling a twinge of pride despite being tired as hell at being wakened at such an early hour).
“You know it! I’m addicted the smell n taste if you haven’t guessed, and I’m addicted to you if you haven’t guessed! Did you notice something about your laundry the other day?”
“Mmmm yeah! Somebody came into my room, snatched all my dirty laundry from the hamper beside my bed, and left with it!”
“They DID?” Wendy said in mock surprise, “there’s simply no trusting anyone. So then what happened?”
“A few hours later,” Vic replied, “they broke back into my room and placed all the laundry on my bed neatly folded.”
“Did they leave anything else?” Wendy asked.
“YEAH! Under my pillow was a lady’s red thong.”
“And did you smell it?”
“Yeah I did,” he answered, “it smelt like it had been soaked in sweat and pussy juice.”
“It is,” Wendy replied, “and it was! I did an hour of treadmill at the gym. I worked-out for two hours also and then went into the ladies room and masturbated. I frigged my cunt hard sitting on the toilet and even shoved my thong up inside my pussy while I fingered my clit and g-spot. When I blew my girlie load into the toilet, I drenched that thong!”
“So you did all this with my laundry and that thong? How… and why?”
“Why… because I like camping out in your head just like you are camping out in mine lover! Oh it wasn’t hard getting the key to your dorm room. I know Valerie at the housing office and she owes me a favor… I got the master key and got your door open while you were at class. Remember my job means that have access to your student schedule!” Vic couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Wendy continued,
“Of course I did all your laundry and folded it. I took the liberty of smelling everything that had your funk and scent on them; every nasty article of clothing got my nose and lips. I simply love your funk! I left that soiled soaked thong where I knew you’d find it. So you sniffed it?”
“Yeah,” said Vic pulling the thong out from under his pillow and bringing it to his nose, “I did.” His hand went down his underwear and found his cock. He began to stroke himself.
“Are you smelling it now?”
“I am,” he answered.
“Are you touching yourself?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he told her truthfully, “I’m doin’ it.”
“Good,” said Wendy, “you know what I am doing?”
“No???” he replied; finding the rhythm and the pace he found helpful to get things going down there.
“My pussy is all soaked because I just shoved your swim speedo up inside it. I am smelling it now and fingering my clit. My pussy is oh so nasty from being poked but I want you poking it Vic. Will you come to my party tomorrow night and cum for me; in me, and on me? I need you. Can you do that baby?”
“Yeah,” Vic said as he huffed in the scent of the mature financial guidance counselor’s puss juices from the thong; his hand a blur on his shaft,” you know I am going to do that.”
“Good,” Wendy replied, “you want to get that speedo back from me?” She had her playful “kitten voice” on and was a whispering tickle of tease and mischief into the phone.
“MMMmmm yeah,” said Vic beating his bishop and remembering her mouth, hands, and pussy upon his cock, balls, and face.
“All you have to do is come by tonight and pick it up lover.”
“Mmm what about your husband,” Vic remembered.
“He’s gone. He is on his trip. I’ll be here tonight at the house and soooooo alone!”
“Ok… but I have class in the mo…”
“Baby, not to worry; I’ll get you to school. (giggle) You think I don’t know where it is?” Vic snorted in reply and kept stroking himself. Wendy huffed in the scent of the speedo and stroked her clit. She rotated her hips around in a lewd hula on the bed, lying on her side as a strange long black cock split her puss-hole opening. A set of black hands pinched and rubbed her nipples from behind as she set the speedo down and spoke into the phone.
“Do something for me baby?” she pleaded.
“Ok?” replied Vic.
“Cum for me while I cum here! Shoot your vanilla from your cock and think of me!”
“Unnhh …Ok Wendy,” he answered,” no problem babe!”
The whole thing lasted a filthy seven minutes. VIc sniffed the thong and Wendy frigged her clit and urged him on over the phone; all the while the black cock plowed her quim and the black hands twisted and tweaked her nipples into hard aching hardened nubs! At last with a muffled gasp, Vic shot a geyser of nut butter into a Kleenex while Wendy shrieked and bawled her way through a head-shaker of an orgasm. She whispered feebly into the phone,
“That was lovely darling! Think about me in class today… and be at my place tonight at six alright?”
“Six tonight,” Vic replied. He was on the edge of drifting off to sl**p. She kissed the phone and told him, “Good night,” before they both hung up. She then turned her attention to the nineteen year old black groundskeeper who’d just made her cum and nearly drench the bed in her own pussy piddle!
“Ok darling,” she said to the strong black buck, “and now -back to you!”
She fell on him and smothered his chest in kisses. She slowly worker her way down his belly, down past his navel; slowly tracing her lips in the direction of his big black cock which pointed at the ceiling like veiny throbbing telegraph pole. He shook his head at her incredulously.
“You just called some white boy at three in the morning while I fucked you?” Marcus asked her. He still hadn’t cum yet. She’d been edging him all night but not letting him blow his load.
“I did,” she said taking a playful suck from the tip of his penis while fondling his balls, “and I want to thank you for getting me off again lover!”
“Girl, you’re crazy… and I gotta bust a nut!”
“Absolutely certifiable!” she acknowledged, “and crazy for cum to boot… now sit back! I’ve been bringing you to the edge all night, now I’m gonna push you over it, and all you gotta do is give me all that lovely salty ball-sauce stored up in your nuts!”
It had been an interesting Wednesday afternoon for Wendy just a few hours earlier. She’d left work quite early, (she had the discretionary hours and complained to her coworkers of a pounding headache). When she arrived at home, her hubby had already left for the airport on his next business trip. He’d actually taken an earlier flight.
“Good,” she thought as she read his note, “he won’t be wanting one of his famous goodbye quickies where he blows his load in me after three strokes and then leaves me high n’ dry!”
She then glanced out the sliding glass doors spying Marcus the groundskeeper as he worked the hedges around the pool. It was hot and his shirt was off. Black sinewy muscles rippled under his skin. Wendy licked dry lips and felt a tingle at her crotch as she observed the movements of the sable black buck. The time was right and the coast was clear. She’d been putting this off for weeks.
The first point of order was to get out of that corporate business skirt and long jacket. When she came down the stairs not five minutes later; gone were the sensible grey-green tweeds and the business black heels (replaced by a stunning orange micro-kini thong and matching “fuck-me” stilettos). Marcus couldn’t help but turn around as she stepped out by the pool. He noticed her and then some, but continued his work.
Wendy smiled and waved from behind a set of “dangerously dark” sunglasses. Marcus returned her wave and continued pruning. A moment later his better judgment caught up with him and he reached for his shirt.
“Oh no don’t do that Marcus dear!” shouted Wendy from across the pool in mock alarm and concern, “it’s way too hot out sweetie – you’re fine!”
“Alright,” he acknowledged, “I just thought I’d be out here alone.”
“You just go along and work,” she replied, “don’t mind me. Pretend I’m not here; I won’t be any trouble for you. (giggle) I’m completely non-judgmental and harmless!” The lie rolled off her tongue with the ease of warm honey dribbled liberally onto toast. She was as harmless as spear gun in a bouncy castle but her graceful manner immediately put him at ease. The shirt stayed on the ground and the show went on for her.
She studied him as a butcher appraises a slab of finely marbled meat; watching bone and flesh dance before her. She wagered a guess as to how all that taught muscle would feel crushing down upon her; how that strong chin would feel gnawing her neck; how those two powerful hands with their elongated fingers would feel pawing her body and groping her breasts, her buttocks, her sex. He was power, he was strength, he was youth, and he was “next” on her list.
She rose to her feet, kicked off her heels, and dove in the pool for an ostensibly cooling dip. The eyes of the black youth witnessed the whole performance behind dark glasses of his own as he pretended to work. The dance had begun.
She swam to his end of the pool then back to her starting point. She pushed herself up out of the water; hoisting herself up onto the concrete deck with two weight-trained arms. As her ass cleared the water she hovered a bit as though she were having difficulty heaving herself onto dry land. It was all fakery of course (she was more than strong enough but her movements made her pooch her ass out as flailed herself onto the deck). The result was that Marcus got more than enough of an eyeful of that gorgeous rump from across the pool at the hedge. She was good.
She stepped back to her chair and picked up a bottle of baby oil and began to liberally anoint herself; facing away from him and being sure to give her ass a good slick oily rub down in the glaring afternoon sun. She pulled her ass cheeks apart and slid an oily hand down in between before then applying more slippery glop to her front in the area around her Venus mound and her belly. By now she’d noticed Marcus had stopped trimming or pruning or “what-evering.” He was just studying (and she was now all about fishing).
She now turned his way but innocently averted her gaze down to her bottle of oil. Her hands slopped oil across her chest then her fingers went underneath her top to do a liberal lubing of her boobies and nippies. Marcus was just thankful for dark glasses as he watched her fingers dance across her tits. He’d not seen now that she was staring right back at him as he ogled her oily tits that were just barely covered by her suit. She was in his head now and she knew it. She made her move.
She stepped a greasy tootsie back into one of her high heels and then attempted to do the same with the other. This was all of course careful choreography on her part but a second later and she’d taken a step back to her lounge chair and gone down in a convincing greasy-thonged tumble of buttocks, legs, a kicked-off high heel, and of course a yelp that sounded as if a fox had been caught in a leg trap! There was of course a fox and a trap involved but the red-headed fox was intent on snaring black cock in a trap of her own design. It worked like a charm.
She’d pulled this routine before, once at the gym and once in a Vegas Casino. In both cases previously, the act immediately drew a male hero to her side in a flash; testosterone, rescues, and reassuring massages. This third time was no exception either.
She’d barely enough time to hit the edge of the deckchair in a carefully executed pratfall before Marcus sprang to her side; scooping her up in his arms and setting her down like a feather on the chair. He immediately went into the role of a “strong powerful masseuse who’d minored in sports medicine” routine as Wendy did her best rendition of a woman “totally vulnerable and helpless,” and in need of a “good calming down.” Oh… her nerves got a good calming down alright.
No sooner had Marcus gone to work, rubbing and kneading her ankle; then his hands were met by her hers and pulled further up her leg and with a f***e and strength he’d not counted upon. Eye contact of a “certain quality” was been made. Hushed careful words were exchanged and female lips formulated an offer. Wendy saw a silent nod of acceptance from the boy.
One thing led to another and a trail of work boots, underwear, jeans, high heels, and an electric-orange thong microkini soon led up the stairs to the bedroom. There Wendy was on the bed with Marcus atop her, jack-hammering away between her legs as her feet point to the ceiling and her pretty red head thrashed with joy! After a few minutes their cries and howls joined into one mutually supportive base-note of exquisitely tortured excitement as the young black man and the red-headed MILF experienced together what the French like to refer to as the “little death.” Marcus’s cock spouted spooging after shuddering hot spooging of junk juice deep into Wendy’s pussy-pipe as her cunt dribbled and ran with her own quim drippings down upon the sheets.
That should have been all but oh no! Wendy was not letting the boy get off that easily. As he started to rise, she pulled him back down to the bed; again with a f***e he’d not reckoned on. That was at three thirty on Wednesday afternoon. Over the next eleven hours she edged him; bringing the boy to the very tip of the orgasmic precipice but never over the other side and giving him release.
There had been plenty of interludes. There’d been drinks from the bar downstairs and edging. There had been pizza delivery and edging. There had been porn on the TV, blowjobs, handjobs, fucking in countless positions; all followed by edging. Each and every-time; Wendy would back off just as Marcus was going to paint her insides (or outsides), with warm salty white-wash.
Now at three AM those balls of his balls felt as big twin congested ostrich eggs. He needed to blow his load desperately. If she didn’t let him nut; he was going to push her aside, run to the bathroom and “take matters into his own hands.” There was a method to her madness however and as Wendy new that each aborted blowjob; each and every masturbatory misfire; every false start of a cumshot in her cunt-hole meant that Marcus’s balls were fuller and fuller with what she loved the most… his cum.
Now as she deep-throated him hard; not pacing, not coaching, not urging prudence or masturbatory moderation, Wendy had him set for an enormous sex-plosion of seed spoutings as her tonsils smashed his cock head-on. In the space of about a minute and a half, she’d milked him to the point of no return and then pushed him violently over the point! Both of the boy’s hands desperately found the back of her short red head of hair and like the Zulu warriors of old he let forth his battle cry. He would not be denied this time!
He took her mouth, fucking her head with both hands wrapped around her skull; savagely snarling in triumph. An epic flash flood of gonad gravy gushed into her greedy girl-gulper before she guzzled and gargled the whole load of penile protein pudding straight down to her grateful gullet. Marcus whimpered and thrashed before falling back on the pillows; completely spent.
Wendy crawled up his long black buck form and hung on him like a blanket. She now let him drift off to sl**p for a few hours. He’d earned it; after all her hedge looked fabulous, she’d gotten off several times in the last eleven hours, and to help her sl**p she had a lovely belly-full of “cum-fort” food.
In a few hours Marcus was gone; sent on his way back to his home, (happy to have empty balls and a full wallet). Wendy was out the door too, to her job at the university. She’d had a tummy full of black licorice, now she needed another shot of vanilla; that would come tonight.
She’d only had about three hours sl**p. No problem for her however. She knew how to stay awake. She skipped panties that morning and sat in her office with the door closed most of the day; her hand up her skirt at her crotch stroking upon herself. She’d only stopped to receive a student here or there; in need of counseling or the odd signature on something. The youngsters who sat in her office that day never realized the classy well-spoken lady in front of them had been diddling herself absolutely rotten below her desk!
It wasn’t the first time she’d pulled this stunt and she hadn’t merely restricted the pastime to her office with the door closed. It was a trick she’d learned on long cross country drives trying to stay awake and it worked like a charm for her. She’d fiddle and strum away behind the wheel and get herself “close” before backing off; leaving her frustrated but most definitely “alert.” She also received appreciative honks she from truckers as they passed and looked down; seeing her skirt pulled up to her belly in the driver’s seat as she “stirred the soup” between her thighs. The adoration fueled the shameless exhibitionist in her; keeping her awake with an ego buzz that normally lasted for several hundred miles.
By the afternoon she’d hit her second wind. She’d sl**p like a fallen log that night but at three thirty she was stone cold awake and at four PM she was ready to pack her shit up and leave; knowing full well that somewhere out on that campus, Vic was finishing up his classes for the day and in two hours he’d be at her door; hopefully hard-on in hand.
When Vanilla Vic’s vintage Volvo pulled into Wendy’s drive-way she was waiting for him. Curiously she’d told him to go very casual, almost sloppy; with just some sweat pants and a t-shirt on. She’d been specific about that when she’d texted him just before he left his dorm room. He assumed she merely wanted “easy access” for the evening. He was spot-on with that estimate but he didn’t know by just how much!
When he arrived at the doorbell, there was a note on it that said simply, Awwww Vic don’t bother knocking, just show yourself in! She knew what a gentleman her bit of young vanilla dick could be. He did as requested. Inside, he found her standing behind the bar martini shaker in hand; mixing two martinis for the both of them.
He’d never had a Martini. He wasn’t even certain he liked gin that much. He’d whiffed it in his grandma’s gin and tonics and thought they smelled like Nana liked to drink Christmas trees. He wasn’t so sure he’d changed his opinion on such things but when Wendy stepped out from behind the bar in her yoga pants and skimpy t-shirt with his drink, he took it and thanked her.
They spent the next twenty minutes on the sofa making small talk and with Wendy snuggling up to him and showing him how to sip a martini properly. She spoke of how important it was to go slow with martinis to maximize the enjoyment and let the “fruity botanicals” tease and tickle his senses, (all while she tickled and teased here and there along his body and up under his loose clothing). Any reservations or formalities were gone; she had her boy-toy in the house and now she was plying him with alcohol, (and powerful shit too). She’d mixed these cocktails with extra gin to make inhibitions melt away like butter in a hot pan!
As they chatted Wendy asked casually if Vic had ever been to the skate park nearby? He reminded her that he was new to the area and didn’t even know that a skate park existed near her house as her fingers playfully slipped below the elastic of his pants and traced naughty little finger along his waistline. She giggled and told him it didn’t matter; it was in walking distance and she loved running through the skate park on the way to her favorite gym.
“So we are working out tonight?”
“In a manner of speaking but I thought maybe a leisurely stroll might be in order before we come back here to order a little Thai delivery. Sound good? I figure it will be a great way for me to work up an appetite and walk off the buzz from these drinks.”
He wondered how this was really something to get all worked up about and have him come over to her place. Going for a walk and then Thai food at her place? Really? …Why didn’t she just fuck him? He had a lot to learn. Things were never what they seemed.
The walk to the skate park was a brisk one and a quick one. She kept him on her arm the whole way; making eyes and rubbing her hands all over him. In some ways she behaved like a teenage girl on an afternoon with her boyfriend instead of a fifty something woman with a young man she’d seduced only a week before. She batted her eyes shyly and continued to giggle at his comments; once or twice even pretending to blush and demure when he provided her with compliments.
It seemed she liked playing the teen; liked having the guy next to her be strong confident and powerful; liked being helpless as a baby bird. If the difference between their ages had not been so obvious, the two would have looked like a pair of teens heading to the mall for some pizza before going to the movies; all she’d have needed was his letterman jacket or his track hoodie. It was of course all a bit of stagecraft; just as much as the tumble she’d taken the previous afternoon to get Marcus in her bed all night. She knew the value of good theater and its second and third-order effects. She also knew that if she let ’em be strong, they’d be strong when she needed it most.
They arrived at the skate park. It was just off to one side of the main park’s running path in a grove of palm and cypress trees. There was a half-pipe to one side with a handful of skateboarders who paid Wendy and Vic no attention. At the far end of the skate park was a basketball court where a few more young men shot hoops. It was a lazy Thursday afternoon; nothing special to see here. It was just as she wanted it to be.
Wendy watched the skateboarders with Vic for a few minutes as the young men shredded the half pipe in individual displays of youthful bravado. She sucked in her breath on a couple of occasions as the skaters nearly spilled but managed skillful recoveries onto their feet, (avoiding harm to both life and limb but exciting her nonetheless). She also noticed that the basketball players shooting hoops went down for tumbles and Vic noticed that each time they did; she again would gasp and squeeze his hand tightly. Her face each time froze in an unblinking smile; as if she were saving the image of the tumbling flesh to her hard-drive for future use.
It was self-evident to Vic now; she dug danger. She dug risk. She dug the prospect of injury; especially when it was aggressive young males throwing caution to the wind. He made a mental note that perhaps too-vanilla was not a good thing at all for him to be.
He again was correct but also once again… he didn’t know just how much. Wendy would have easily been comfortable as the wife of a wealthy cuckolded equestrian in Ancient Rome, screaming at the top of her lungs and seated in a special VIP box of some marble amphitheater as two gladiators fought for bl**d. She would have been the same woman after a day at “the games,” having a large heavily muscled slave massaging special ointments upon her naked form as she reclined upon a bed; perfumed oils concocted from the sweat of victorious fighters in the arena mixed with the bl**d of their fallen foes. She was a woman whose appetites were almost those of another time.
Now as the two stood side by side, they were certainly in no arena. They were in a skate-park in San Diego and what’s more, Vic noticed something peculiar. The noise had stopped. All he heard were birds.
A pair of tall black police officers on foot passed; walking on the jogging path. For a moment everything came to a standstill on the basketball court. Activity on the half-pipe ceased as well.
As the two officers walked by; Wendy turned and looked in their direction. Both policemen; heavily built and easily over six feet in height made eye contact with her and Vic. The boy thought he saw something else as the two cops passed; a micro expression towards Wendy. It was the tiniest of winks; barely perceivable, (but there nonetheless). He stared at Wendy and saw she was smiling back at the officers; making the slightest of head nods to them. The cops walked on down the lane and disappeared around a bend; apparently sharing a joke that caused one to snicker at the remark of the other.
Wendy and Vic turned back to the skaters and the ball players on the court. Vic expected both groups of young men to return to their previous activities now that “the heat” had walked on. They didn’t. They simply stared at Wendy; not in a threatening manner but with the faintest of smiles upon their faces. Wendy returned the smiles. An apparently leader from the basketball court gave the slightest of nods as did a brash young skater standing atop the half pipe with his board now under his arm and his plaid shirted associates apparently waiting for something. It was all very genial.
“I have to pee,” Wendy announced turning to Vic, “and you do too!”
With that, she snatched his hand up in hers and led him off in the direction of a public restroom at the west end of the skate park that was situated between more palms and cypresses. At the entrance Vic started to walk into the men’s’ room. Wendy’s hand landed on his shoulder before spinning him around abruptly with a f***e he’d not reckoned on. She whisked him into the ladies’ room. The time for being weak and fragile was over for the moment. It was time for her to take what she felt was hers!
She led him to the last stall at the very far end of the women’s lavatory. All the doors were unoccupied but this last stall had a sign that read “out of order.” Next to the stall was a small beat-up wooden stool, just outside the door.
“Take the stool with you,” Wendy directed as she opened the stall door. No sooner had Vic done what she’d told him; then she’d pulled him into the “out of order” stall with her. She slid the stall’s lock shut and had Vic set the stool down behind him in the cramped space so that it blocked the door.
“You first lover,” she said to him as she moved to his rear, whipped his sweatpants down and set down on the stool, “get your business out.”
As he faced the commode with his junk presented, he felt her hands come from behind around both sides to grasp his penis; not for any lewd sexual activity but simply to assist. Her head cocked around his waist like a graceful long-necked giraffe as she looked up at him wearing a wicked grin.
“Ok,” she said steering him, “let her rip!”
Pissing on command, even though he had a full bladder; was not Vic’s strongpoint. He relaxed himself and tried to forget that the woman holding his junk was an expert at jacking, sucking, and fucking it.
Wendy knew the problem as soon as it materialized and she thought it completely adorable. He had stage fright! She reasoned that later in life he should steer clear of any civil service position if giving a “sample” caused so much of a problem for him. Luckily she was not just a stone cold hottie; she’d also raised two boys to adulthood.
“Sweetie,” she said in a motherly tone to him, “what is nine times nine?”
“Eighty-one,” he answered.
“What is four times nine?” she asked tickling his balls.
“Thirty-six,” came the reply.
“What is eight times eight?”
“What is four times eleven?”
“Sixty-nine,” came his reply and subsequently a golden stream of former Martini squeezings straight into the commode.
Her aim was impeccable as she steered. Every last drop went exactly where it should have. She finished up with a couple of shakes to knock the dew from his lily and then she rose and moved in front of her bewildered boy toy, who stood stunned and dumbfounded with his sweats down to his knees.
She whipped down her yoga pants, spun around and sat down upon the commode. With an assertive shove she pushed him down upon the stool and she leaned forward, his loins now level with her face. Seizing Vic’s manhood in her hands she brought him to her lips and began to suck him hard as she herself took a steaming hot whizz; no action was to be wasted …there wasn’t enough time in her mind.
Vic stared at the walls of the commode and down upon the face of the lovey woman doing such an even lovelier blowjob upon him as she squeezed herself empty of the last remnants of the martini shaker’s gift. His eyes came back to the wall behind her and it was he saw something odd. There above the commode tank were two rather large holes had been knocked in the wall tiles, one the size of a base-ball; the other one above it the size of a g****fruit.
“Wendy?” Vick asked her as she reached for a bit of tissue and flushed the bowl.
“What was with the math quiz?” he asked.
“It’s an old trick,” she explained,” the portion of the brain that handles water retention and bladder control also helps us solve math problems. If you ever find yourself not being able to take a leak… brush up on your times tables. Works like a charm!”
“Ok one more thing?” Vic asked.
“Yes lover,” she replied.
“What is with the holes in the wall?”
“Just wait,” she said stepping out her yoga pants and throwing them over his shoulder, “and see!”
She spun around on the commode and faced the hole, waiting patiently. She then stood up and bent at the waist with her face just opposite the small baseball sized hole. Her hands came back and found his now hard erection; guiding him to the notch of her puss-hole as he sat on the edge of the stool with his back against the door. A second later a hand emerged from out of the wall stroked the top of her short red head of hair. As a large white cock sprang from the smaller hole she turned to look back at Vic with a wicked smile.
“Ok lover,” she said placing the unseen man’s cock upon her chin and drumming it against her lips, “you are my protection. Start fucking me but be ready to step in and be an asshole should one of these guys on the other end of this wall gets a little un-gentlemanly!”
With that, she turned and took the cock in her mouth. Behind the wall a man sighed. Vic despite not believing what he was seeing or doing took her by both hips; her yoga pants over his shoulder like a bizarre scarf. He began to fuck and she commenced to suck. It was on.
Wendy’s red head bobbed in a back n’ forth motion. She settled into a nice steady rhythm and the hand from the upper hole slowly caressed the side of her cheek as the man on the other end of the wall relaxed and enjoyed things. Vic made slow deliberate strokes up into Wendy’s pussy; unsure just how long he’d need to perform so he opted for a cautious pace at the moment so as not to “finish too soon.” She’d shown him how to edge himself a week prior; now he’d put what he’d learned to the test.
Over a period of about five minutes; Wendy deep-throated the young unseen dude behind the wall ravenously. Her technique was that of seasoned expert who simply loved what she was doing. She applied just the right amount of pressure to the cock between her lips; banging it against the back of her throat and making the poor guy ooh and aahhh like he was walking barefoot on a hot pavement in August.
Vic could hear everything echoing off the bathroom tiles in both restrooms; the slurping sounds of a woman gobbling dong and the sounds of a happily tortured man groaning in excruciating bliss somewhere in the next room. It was all very surreal. When the man on the other side of the wall came, he shuddered as if he was in the very throes of his own death rattle; his hand grabbing Wendy’s red hair and pulling her onto his cock as his nuts blew hot ropes of jizz down her hatch into her grateful tummy. She finished him.
Both cock and hand of the unseen dude disappeared into the wall; only to be replaced a few seconds later by both a large black dong and an elongated black hand with slender fingers emerging from the wall. They were the fingers of a man who could palm a basketball effortlessly. Now they gently palmed her pretty red head.
Vic continued pounding up into Wendy’s wickedly wonderful quim; reveling in the sensation of traveling deep and hard up into her; smashing her cervix in a nasty game of bathroom bumper cars. Heat began to rise up from her ass and her quim and he could smell the lovely hot notes of her crotch as they danced in his nostrils; she was becoming quite excited and he could smell it clearly; her impassioned cunt squeezings on his cock and the heartfelt moans from her throat telling him everything else he needed to know. In a few minutes she’d be “there.”
She came on his cock; big hard and wet! A cascade of piddle drippings ran down his dick balls and legs from her pussy; puddling the floor and the toilet seat beneath her. The young black man on the other side of the wall howled snarled and shot off his load into her throat as she quickly gulped down the contents of his gonads. She simply loved seminal soul food!
Vic managed to continue edging himself through the entirety of Wendy’s climax but he knew he risked blowing his load early (and that there were plenty more glory-hole suitors behind that wall, wishing to joust with Wendy’s naughty tonsils and fill her tummy with cum). As the spent black cock disappeared behind the wall, Vic decided he’d better pull out of Wendy and do something a bit different. His opportunity came a second later.
A long caramel-colored dong (about nine inches by the looks), pushed through the wall and a tattooed arm with Spanish writing inked up and down its length grabbed the back of Wendy’s pretty head of hair. At the same moment young Vic pushed her ass up high so that her body was bent in a perfect “L.” As the strange Hispanic cock began plumbing the depths of Wendy’s esophagus, Vic put his hands to work on her cunt; first one finger, then another and then another. Soon he’d worked his hand into a cone and he commenced fisting her.
Wendy let out a muffled vocalization of approval from her cock-plugged throat; more roar than moan really. Her hand traveled down between her legs and her fingers went to work on her clit as she continued to slobber and gobble at her piece of Latino lunchmeat; making the young Mexican moan and curse in Spanish from behind the wall. Vic saw this as the “all clear” from Wendy and he began plunging her puss-hole with gusto; fisting her like she was the star of a Dutch porno flick. She responded in kind by thrashing her rump to and fro appreciatively.
Vic’s head dropped down and he began to munch and kiss on Wendy’s rump cheek. Her ass was an exquisite heart-shaped piece of work and he wanted to feast upon that delectable derriere of hers. His nibbles and kisses on her glutes became hungry bites, nips and munches that eventually became a hot “hiney- hickey” session as his arm fisted her.
He was going to leave a very special mark on her rump cheek; a hickey mark that would tell all others, Vic was here! He may have been vanilla… but he owned this hot piece of classy MILF ass through and through dammit! He bit, sucked, chewed and checked his work on her rump before resuming it. All the while his hand plunged her juicing pussy like it was a stuck drain!
Wendy for her part was in Seventh Heaven! She’d chosen wisely with young Vic. He didn’t just have the body of a little god; he was a quick study. She could tell he’d been edging himself; saving his ball-splatter for later at a time when she wanted his sticky-sexplosion the most. He wasn’t just a good lover.. he was considerate. She’d keep him, oh she’d most-definitely keep him!
Now she reveled in what he was doing to her; using her and giving her the hand-puppet treatment – stretching her with his knuckles and making her insides ache so nicely! When at last the Mexican in her mouth finally howled and filled her cheeks with his “beaner batter,” Vic’s f***eful “pussy punches” on the other end achieved their desired cumulative effect. It was as if her ass was a piñata that had suddenly split open from too many whackings in “just the right spot;” for it seemed to split open. A second later there was a gusher of hot salty quim-broth down Vic’s arm, onto his sweatshirt and all over the commode.
Wendy shuddered and gulped the cum of the screaming young man behind the hole. Her twat kept on gushing; her girly-gasm running from her cunt like busted hot water pipe. At last the strange Mexican cock retreated behind the wall. Vic bowed his head back down and continued to fist Wendy’s sodden pussy as his lips and teeth worked upon her rump. Meanwhile yet another cock (this one white and slender), emerged from the hole and plunged between Wendy’s parted lips. A skinny white army shot through the upper hole to grab her hair and Wendy was once again engaged in a wonderful face-fuck as Vic’s knuckles nailed her nookie nest.
Wendy now understood what it felt like to be a washer caught between a nut and a bolt. Her double pummeling raged on for several minutes. When the man on the other end of the wall came and Wendy had swallowed his load, he was replaced by another man, (and another, and another). Each time she gobbled down the guys gonad chowder and each time she came just as the cock retreated into the wall; thanks to Vic’s relentless pussy pounding.
Vic lost track of how many times his girlfriend came and splattered on his arm. He lifted his face up from her rump to look at the marks he’d produced on her ass-cheek. There before him on her magnificent bare ass were two diagonal lines of hickeys forming a letter “V” for Vic. He’d stamped her; branded her. She now wore the Vanilla V brand, (although she didn’t know it yet as she hadn’t looked back). She also had completely drenched his arm, the commode seat, and the tile floor to the stall forming a shallow pond of briny cunt drippings. Now as Vic admired his handiwork and yet another man behind the wall cut loose with a load of salty nut-butter in Wendy’s greedy mouth, the red headed MILF decided it was Vic’s protein shake that she needed.
She spun herself around and then stood up on the treacherously slippery commode-seat facing Victor. As a new dong dangled from the wall, young Vic stood and supported Wendy. The sex-crazed MILF leaned back and impaled her pussy on the strange cock sprouting from the gloryhole; surprising the man behind it. The anonymous young dude’s hand landed on her perfect rump; causing him to shout from behind the wall,
“Oh holy shit! She took me in her pussy! She’d got me in her pussy!”
An explosion of howls and applause erupted behind the partition as the crowd of men celebrated and showed their appreciation for Wendy’s decision to “change things up a bit.” Wendy for her part took the yells an cat-calls in stride. She merely looked up into Vic’s eyes and said,
“You ever helped breed a****ls on your farm back home?”
“Yeah,” Vick answered, “we had horses. I used to hold the mare’s head while the stud was led up to her rear to mount her and do his business. Why?”
“You Vic,” Wendy directed with eyes that blazed with mischief, “are gonna hold this mare as that stud behind the wall plows my furrow and stirs my insides… and I’m gonna suck you hard!”
With that she dropped her head down to Victor’s cock and began to fellate him. The man behind the wall began to plow at Wendy’s puss-hole and Vic merely held her shoulders and kept her from slipping from the toilet seat. Wendy was once again, happily spit-roasted!
She now pummeled Vic’s cock relentlessly with her tongue teeth and tugging tonsils and it was all young Vic could do to simply hang on. As blowjobs went, this was something of truly epic quality. Wendy was now a woman completely “in her zone” doing what she loved best. What’s more, she was determined to empty his balls; oh most definitely… she’d said he was going to be sucked hard and she meant it; every word!
Vic’s attempts at edging were “amateur night at the town hall,” compared to Wendy’s cocksucking skill. She throated him for approximately three minutes; then his balls (which had been up til now, milked to the edge and pushed back, over and over again), could hold back no longer. Vic through his head back, ready to cum.
The young vanilla dude’s triumphant climax began as a strangled cry that rose out of his throat; escaping his lips as a snarling gasp. His hands clenched the back of Wendy’s head as his cock spurted hot ropes of cum down her throat. Wendy seized the back of his buttocks and held him fast; sucking every last drop down into her belly. Vic’s snarls became whimpers until at last he was completely empty. His hands relaxed, releasing her pretty head, (and none too soon as it turned out).
From behind her Wendy heard the triumphant roar of the man behind the wall. He’d been plowing her insides hard for several minutes and he was ready to seed her furrow with his spooge; the thing was Wendy wanted to taste it instead! She hopped from the toilet seat, spun back around and seized up the anonymous cock in her kisser.
She began mouth-milking the man with furious suction. The dude behind the wall immediately cried out in joyous agony and grabbed her head; fucking her mouth furiously through the glory-hole and filling her belly with his spunk-sprayings. He was the last one.
As the strange cock disappeared, Wendy waited at the edge of the commode staring at the two holes in the wall. When no more cocks or groping hands appeared, she judged that her “work here was done” and she shrugged happily. She turned back to Victor and smiled, wiping a little fleck of jism off the edge of her lips and popping it into her mouth.
She was happy, her belly was full of man-batter and her ego was puffed up to twice its size; knowing that by her count she’d made eighteen men scream and spout their penis pudding between her lips. She’d be able to skip the tofu when she ordered Thai food later. The problem was that just like Thai food; such high-protein meals made her hungry a half hour later. She didn’t have to wait however, there would be more meat on the menu for her as the evening progressed.
As Vic and Wendy walked through the exit of the restroom into the lovely San Diego evening, they were met by the two black police officers they’d seen earlier. The two men stood like uniformed giants, blocking their way. This did not at all look good and they both looked guilty as hell!
Vic’s heart leapt up into his throat; they’d been busted for certain having sex in a public restroom. Wendy, seeing the boy’s alarm patted his arm and told him not to worry. She turned to the two towering black uniformed men and shot them a smiling wink.
“Thanks Danny and Virgil,” she said, “you came through for me again!”
“Our pleasure Wendy,” said the slightly older of the two cops, “you going to do something to support the Policeman’s Balls program now, right?”
Wendy’s response was cut short by three of the skateboarders who exited the restroom. Apparently they’d taken a minute after the fun with Wendy to smoke a joint before heading back out to the half pipe. It was obvious they were feeling pretty mellow; as obvious as the smell that wafted from the men’s room.
“Hey Mrs. K!” one of the skateboarders commented graciously, “Thanks again for the great time!”
“Any time Scooter,” she replied back to the young man, “you be sure to keep your grades up and see me Monday about your transfer from the community college next term.”
“Ok Wendy,” the buzzed stoner replied, “I’ll be there. Hey thanks officers!”
Scooter shook hands with the two cops. They could have busted him and his buds outright for possession and several other charges as well. The two cops merely shook his hand and the younger cop; Danny replied, “no problem Scooter. Have a good night and you and your posse stay clear of trouble.”
Scooter and his buds nodded and then walked off; giggling and high fiving. The two cops then turned back to Wendy and a stone cold silent Victor. Presently Wendy and the two black men smiled and erupted into laughter. When they were able to control their outburst of hilarity (taken at Vic’s expense), Wendy explained to the thoroughly confused Victor Brock.
“I have known these two cops for several years now,” she said. “In fact I knew Virgil and Danny (who are both bl**d b*****rs for your information), back when they were movers delivering certain recreational items to my home. We had a marvelous time that day, didn’t we boys?” The two cops nodded and smiled; remembering something both fond and distant in the back of their heads.
“Apparently,” she continued, “this pair of b*****rs decided the delivery business wasn’t to their liking, so they opted for what we in counseling would refer to as a career chance; a vocational shift. They joined the police f***e. Now here they are.”
Wendy knew when the two officers went out on their beat through the park and that they both followed a pretty routine route. She also had asked that the next time they went through the park to please send her a text message. She’d already replied back to the two patrolman with what she’d wanted to do. In fact she knew all the young men at the hoop court and the skate park who had made that “special visit” to the restroom. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt the touch of their cocks through a hole cut in the wall. It probably wouldn’t be the last either!
It also turned out that while the skaters and the hoop shooters had been spraying hot ropes of spooge into Wendy’s kisser; Danny and Virgil had dutifully stood outside the door. They were basically police protection; keeping people from entering the restroom and disturbing the activities inside. Of course a service like this wasn’t free; it came with a price.
“C’mon Virgil,” said Wendy taking the older b*****r by the hand, “let’s see what I can do to support the Policeman’s Balls charity. It’s such a worthy cause!” She led the police officer into the restroom while Vic and the younger b*****r Danny maintained a vigil outside and chatted cordially.
Inside Wendy’s happy cries echoed against the tiles once again as the sound of two partially clothed bodies smacked wetly together in a SLAP SLAP SLAP sort of rhythm. It took about seven minutes. Wendy was first as her screams and shrieks rang and bounced off the walls of the restroom; only to be joined by Virgil’s roar of cataclysmic release. Her ticket to the ball had been punched!
A short time later and the two emerged. A slightly out of breath Wendy returned a smiling and content Virgil to the light of day. Without a word, she seized officer Danny by the hand and dragged him into the restroom. Vic and Virgil remained outside and made small talk as inside the sound of SLAP SLAP SLAP body smashings continued and two conjoined people grunted cursed and gasped in sweaty thrusting pleasure. Danny last ten minutes with her; then just as had been the case of his b*****r’s experience, Wendy shrieked in blissful agony and the young black officer snarled and raged his way through a climax. Wendy’s ticket was punched once more.
Shortly thereafter, Danny resumed his beat with his older b*****r and the two stalwart members of San Diego’s Finest waived gallantly over their shoulders to Wendy and Vic; who returned their gesture cordially. Wendy’s head landed on Vic’s shoulder as they watched the two uniformed policemen disappear down the path. She then turned to Vic saying,
“You ready for some Thai Food at my place and a chance to earn back your swim speedo?”
He nodded. The pair walked briskly back up the path to Wendy’s home. They were at her front door in fifteen minutes time and ready to order delivery.
When dinner arrived, Vic came to the door in a white bathrobe and paid the delivery girl the amount due plus a tip. He watched as the cute Thai girl headed back to her delivery scooter before he then disappeared back into the house, closing the door behind him. He was met by Wendy in a shorty robe. She took the delivery from him and thrust another martini in his hand as she smiled wryly; a fair trade.
“Sip that,” she told him, “while I find something inappropriate on the TV.”
What followed was a montage of naughty hi-jinks with Wendy and Vic on the couch, the hot red-headed MILF and the young stud feeding one-another with chopsticks as absolutely nasty and ball-draining porn movies flickered away on the wall mounted flat screen opposite them. In between the short ten to fifteen minute downloaded porns, Wendy freshened their drinks; ensuring lots of “liquid peer pressure” to fuel the evening. One thing was certain for Vic; he absolutely loved Wendy’s version of “Netflix and Chill.”
After a while, the booze the spicy food and the endless supply adult movies consisting of flawless bodies had an inspiring effect on the both of them. Wendy stretched and said something about being a little weak and tired (with a melodramatic yawn). Vic didn’t buy it for a minute that this red-headed she-wolf in heat could ever be tired but he saw it as a window of opportunity. He knew enough to play along. She wanted to play feeble and weak? He could be strong and powerful enough for the both of them!
He was up and on his feet; his robe tumbling to the Spanish tiled floor as he lunged. Like a flash, sinew bone and muscle moved as one magnificent form that whisked a happily helpless Wendy off the couch and up over his shoulder; just as a Viking would haul away a kicking screaming woman off to his long-ship. The only difference was there happened no struggle here, (only giggles and laughter from Wendy who smacked his hiney from her vantage point over atop his shoulder).
He lugged her out of the den and straight up the stairs that ended in front of the door to the master bedroom. Somewhere along the way, her shorty robe fluttered to the bottom of the stairs and at the top the two emerged with her now in his arms, (being carried “wedding threshold” style). Yes if she wanted to be weak he could be her Conan despite his youth. He took her to the bed and threw her down upon it, (her lungs letting go with a gleeful squeal as she bounced naked against the mattress springs).
A moment later he’d simply fallen upon her, pinning her down and crushing her; kissing her mouth and neck, taking her just the way she craved. He was instantly between those lovely legs of hers and second later; straight-in up to his balls! She let out a cry as the cock stretched her; somewhat dry. A few seconds later she’d accommodated him; a slight slick of moisture acre-ting inside her facilitating his thrusts.
He began to move and she began to receive; her legs up and her arms blissfully d****d over his shoulders. She’d wanted this; a b**st fuck with no bullshit-talking or silly ritual, just a fuck; raw, rutting, and physical! Save the tender stuff for Hallmark Television, she figured. He was giving it to her; just what she wanted. Oh DAMN vanilla or not; he’d most certainly do, she thought!
He banged her to sl**p; pinned her to the bed just like she desired. He couldn’t have read her mind could he? No…she’d simply just chosen well. She knew the sort of boy she liked and could scout out “her thing” from a herd of men. She simply picked up on his “vibe” that day he came into her office; she knew how he’d be in bed even more than he did.
Now she wore him like a testosterone-laden “man blanket” in complete contentment and just let him go; pounding her pussy until they both were snoring in a post sex cuddle-puddle. As conscious awareness yielded to the u*********s and sl**p drifted over her like a comforting fog; she involuntarily rolled her hips against the slackening penis still inside her. She’d lost track of how many times he’d fucked her to orgasm that night since she’d faked being tired and taken him to bed. Now she was tired for real and grateful for the cock inside her that provided her with the most exquisite of sl**ping pills.
During the night she woke and rolled against him. She rubbed herself against the dong still parked inside her. She rubbed and rubbed until it swelled into slumbering hardness; bringing herself off against it in a sl**py rut.
At some point she drifted off into the ether of slumber and it was Vic’s turn to rouse. He ground himself inside her. He made stroke after selfish stroke until he was spent and dead to the world, his breathing sips of air matching hers as the two remained locked in a carnal c*** until the first rays of dawn pushed through the window.
She pulled him into the shower for a standing wake-up fuck and then made him breakfast. She figured it was only fitting to serve him eggs after she’d just drained his so utterly. She then got herself ready for work and when she came down from upstairs with her makeup just so and her hair just the way she wanted; he was set to head out to his car and get off to class. The pair kissed, mature beauty and the young buck she’d seduced. The bond was strengthened. As he walked out to his car Vic heard Wendy open the front door and shout at him cheerfully.
“Hey catch, lover!” she yelled. A second later, his speedo flew through the air and hit him in the face as he turned. Wendy let go with a smug satisfied chuckle. It had been a good night; a very good night.
“Don’t forget,” she reminded him, “there is the party tonight. You’ll be here at nine?”
“I will.” he said bending down to pick up his swimwear, “thanks for getting these back to me.”
“No problem sweetheart!” she replied wondering what other articles of clothing of his she could steal to keep him coming back.
As he got into his car she chuckled at that thought. No further thefts would be necessary of course she realized; he was hungry for her – as much as she was for him. She also knew she was up in his head where she wanted to be. Tonight’s party she realized was ample enough reason for him to be back and then she’d be able to feel him again next to her; feel him and gobble him up if need be.
The pair were distracted for the rest of the day; he from the glorious pipe cleaning she’d given him and she from the wonderful pounding stretch her insides still felt after the previous night. She also took pleasure in the fact that he’d e****ted her to the glory-hole encounter in the park and not been taken aback by it. He obviously could be trusted not to be too possessive and assholish when she wished to enjoy herself with other pieces of strange; an added benefit for her and an attribute for him that she recognized instantly.
He was secure enough in himself that he didn’t need to worry about other dudes, (and that made her as damp as a May picnic). She wondered to herself as she sat in her office (again with the door locked and her hand up under her skirt), if he’d been thinking of her. He was. She was correct in her assessment; she was stamped indelibly in his brain all through the day as he tried in vain to focus in class.
As he left his final class of the day, he did something he hadn’t done since late in junior high. He put a book in front of his lap as he stood up to hide a fierce boner inspired by Wendy (and the memory of her nasty escapades still bounding around in his head like a ten-year-old in a bouncy castle). He rushed back to his dorm room; discovered his roommate was not there, and proceeded to furiously rub one out until both his balls were empty. The only thing on his agenda now was the mixer party at Wendy at nine.
Vic’s beat-up Volvo arrived at Wendy’s a touch after nine o’clock. He couldn’t park in her drive as it was blocked by cars. Vehicles it turned out, were parked all the way up the street on either side of the road. He found a place a hundred yards away from the house and then walked back down to the party.
A knock on the door later and he was greeted by one of the “WASPy” blond frat b*****rs who immediately shook his hand and ushered him in. A fresh solo cup was placed in his hand and it was promptly filled to the rim from the keg at bar. Slaps on his back rang out several times and cordial handshakes squeezed his palm again and again. He was a little overwhelmed. He forgot almost all the names offered up to him as there were simply too many but the handshakes and smiles just kept coming.
Across the room there were several hottie coeds; blondes, brunettes, and redheads chatting away with several girls from the various sororities. It was a bit of an informal interview for the members of the herd. Each of the new freshman girls was trying to make a favorable impression with the “establishment” girls despite the fact that fall rush was not for another two weeks.
Every now and again one of the girls in the giggle gaggle would glance over to Vic at the keg and shoot him a shy coquettish smile. Victor (whose confidence was riding high after a week of getting laid by Wendy), nonchalantly waived and smiled back. He seemed cordial but disinterested and it fanned the flames on more than a few of little smoldering egos of the young women.
Each girl noticed that the other girls in the group had smiled at Vic and he’d acknowledged them in turn but simply turned his attentions elsewhere; not staring at his drink or looking at his shoes like a painfully shy boy. Instead he remained looking around for something intently, or more appropriately someone. The seeds of competitiveness were now carefully planted in the hearts of several young ladies in the group. It was soooooo on.
Unfortunately for the young ladies, they had the greatest competition of all. From out on the pool patio Wendy was keeping a watchful eye on the front room, (and the bar in particular for Vic’s arrival). Her voice rang out through the sliding patio door with,
“VIC! Get out here with your beer and join me!”
Vic’s head spun around. He saw Wendy standing around a table with several black fraternity men; the group all doing tequila shots and getting wilder and louder by the second. It was a good thing Wendy had neighbors at one end of her house who were on vacation. The other neighbor, a hot MILF widow by the name of Beverly was already in the pool with two young black men, (who were paying her “special attention”). Wendy wouldn’t need worry about people complaining about noise; especially as Beverly was making plenty of noise herself already as she flirted with the two big black bucks in the water.
“Ah Vic!” Wendy said as he took up a place beside her and her arm immediately snaked around his waist, “I have been so waiting for you to show.”
She was quick to introduce him to the group of black fraternity men who immediately recognized him as Wendy’s new main squeeze, (even if he didn’t know any of them). Again handshakes ensued and introductions were made with names forgotten. He was given a shot to go with his beer. A little salt off Wendy’s bare shoulder later; plus the tequila, plus a wedge of lemon, plus a chug of his beer….and Vic was in a mood to party. Wendy picked up on this immediately.
“Guys,” she said, “I think its time to shift gears on these proceedings.”
One of the men sitting at the table nodded knowingly. He rose and moved quickly to the front door of the house; locking it from the inside. Now nobody was getting in without a password printed on special flyers that Wendy had put out just a few days before. It was ok, only the few people that Wendy had hand picked even new of this party; the flyers were explicit on that point. It had all been meticulously planned by Wendy.
A few days before Wendy had drawn up her short list of who would be attending the night’s festivities, (based on previous parties with her, the ability of students to shut up and be discreet, and an overall impression she’d had of any freshman when they’d been in her office). The sit-downs in her office were an interview of sorts. As a result…there wasn’t an ugly face to be seen at the party; male or female. She was fastidious on that point and quite happy with the aesthetic result that evening.
The boys who’d already been to her parties had one additional requirement. They did not only have to RSVP… they had do so on the flyer, (in a manner of speaking). To put it another way; Wendy wished to know if they were “cumming.”
Each of the male veterans of her parties were sent a special flyer that was different from all others in that it had instructions printed on a lewd photo of Wendy in a red lingerie. Her lovely tits were out above the top her bustier and it was either cold in the room or she’d been tweaking her gumdrop nipples into a particularly bothered state of agitation. She was wearing red “fuck the hell oughta me” pumps and had a nasty smile on her face to boot as she lay across her sofa. The boys knew the deal, and if they didn’t there were instructions on a proper RSVP for them written clearly next to her fox-like grin. They’d have to “pay tribute” by jacking off on the photo and taking a phone picture of their digital bukakke before sending it back to Wendy. When she was bad… she was shocking in her bravado.
Before nightfall on the first day of the flyer send-out, Wendy’s electronic inbox was flooded. She had several emails with attached photos showing young cocks blasting loads of cum across her own racy pic, (in a series of protein splattered “of course I’ll be there,” replies to the affirmative). The action set the very tone for what was to cum.
Now all that planning and effort was coming to a head at the party. Wendy wanted to see that head burst in an absolute cataclysm of coed sexual depravity; with her as the ring leader naturally. She wouldn’t wait for long.
Students began to step out onto the patio with recharged solo cups, (and more and more pretty girls were in that number). Wendy made eye contact with a few of the older girls in the herd. She smiled but gave them each a deliberate and focused nod. It was time for something and she extended her hand to them.
“Vic,” she said to her piece of vanilla arm candy, “meet Christina, Debbie, and Tricia.” Vic shook hands with the girls but noticed that Tricia held his for longer than normal. He also could tell all three young women smiled quite hard at him and their gaze seemed to bore upon his pupils. He wanted to look away shyly but he instead returned their smile.
“Hi,” he replied.
“Wendy has told us a lot about you Vic,” said the tall twenty-year-old blonde Christina.
“Good things,” said the nineteen-year-old brunette Deborah who surveyed his face with an ear to ear grin, “wickedly good things!” She was full of mischief.
“She told us we are to take good care of you and make you feel welcome,” said the red headed Tricia who reached out a hand and ran it across his chest for emphasis.
“Indeed you three shall,” Wendy commented, “and I am more than confident of your abilities ladies.” She gave Vic one final squeeze and then stepped a foot or so away from him. Up over her head and shoulders came her red spaghetti strap cocktail dress. As quickly as it was off, she flung it down to the cement deck; much to the shock and chagrin of young Vic and a few of the less initiated party goers.
Now she stood before the par-tiers naked as the day of her birth; save her red high-heels. She didn’t even need to bother with her panties as it became self-evident that they’d been left off the invitation list and were most certainly not present at the gathering. A hushed gasp rose up from the shocked spectators until Wendy broke the awkward silence with characteristic panache. She bowed and held the bow to a staccato sound of claps and cheers that snow-balled with time into a roar of supportive applause before she deliberately rose and curtseyed to her legion of collegiate admirers.
Not to be outdone; Christina, Deborah, and Tricia saw this as their cue. Up their slim party dresses went over their heads and onto the ground as per Wendy’s example. The applause became thunderous and the cheers rose to pep-rally levels as the three grinning nymphs stepped from their thongs; the trio now clothed only in their heels, painted toenails and jewelry. It was a party now.
Wendy at this time made another curt nod to the girls and they replied back with three subtle head nods of their own. It was as if a carefully-rehearsed plan was now being set in motion. Vic amidst the hoots, cat-calls and raucous clapping suddenly found Christina, Debbie, and Tricia had surrounded him; blocking his ability to move away from “the show.” Three sets of female hands fell on him and began to unbutton his clothes; working his belt and shirt open as Wendy meanwhile turned to the audience. She addressed the party-mob with loud happy showmanship.
“Friends,” her voice rang out sounding more like that of a circus ring-mistress than a hostess, “I now declare… the games for my fall mixer… to be …OPEN!”
There was another loud rush of applause; and no small rush of cool night air, (as Vic found his pants and underwear dropped down by the skillful hands of Christina reaching from behind him). His shirt was pulled off his shoulders and arms and quickly he found himself naked as a Greek athlete amidst the hoots and yells. It was most fortunate he was not modest, (years as a swimmer had cured him of that; for standing on platforms wearing nothing but a speedo and bathing cap had conditioned him to show his physique without so much as a second thought). Wendy continued.
“For our FIRST bit of pageantry,” she explained, “I now will direct your attention to the clad male that my three lovely assistants have disrobed. He does not know it but he is the very centerpiece for our opening performance.”
Vic looked about the crowd. He saw nothing but intent stares following him. There was nothing menacing or mocking in the looks, but the interest was most keen and clearly there. He was “on-stage” as it were.
He also noticed that in the crowd certain members (both male and female) were beginning to disrobe as the spirit for the evening now dictated. A few young men and women moved closer together as a****l attractions were realized; others found the hand of a suitable partner but did not tear eyes away from Vic and the three hot coeds. Still others (too shy at the moment apparently), remained where they stood but they too watched the naked four as they took direction from Wendy. None wanted to miss out on “the show.”
Victor was now spun around by the three young ladies and pushed backwards onto a pool chaise lounge (placed behind him in the nick of time by one of the more helpful people from the crowd). He fell back against the cushions and found the three nude young quickly upon him like a trio of cats on a bag of nip. Christina and Deborah immediately went down between his legs to “tongue-tickle” his cock and balls while Tricia mounted his face and allowed her full weight to settle upon his lips chin and nose. Vic simply rolled with it… now just a piece of dandelion fluff being carried away by the storm as the girls set themselves to their task.
“GO! GO! GO!” the crowd cheered; their fists pounding in the air. Vic’s inner gladiator shown through as he realized the howls and cheers were as much for him as the three women ravishing him and bucking upon his face. In the spirit of showmanship, he bucked his loins into the greedy mouths of Christina and Debbi while he gorged ravenously on Tricia’s quim. The girl who’d made a bench of his face suddenly realized she was sitting atop more man than she’d bargained for, and began to moan and thrash her head as the sensations devouring her from “down below” seized her very core. With tightly shut eyes she let out a hoarse cry; only making the onlookers cry out louder in response.
Vic’s hands found the bobbing heads of Debbie and Christina (whose hungry mouths were now trading-out between his cock n’ balls). His fingers tangled in their hair and he palmed their bobbing noggins in a passionately-inspired double-dribble. He’d never felt anything so wonderful!
After a few minutes time Tricia fell forward and dropped her mouth into the gobbling fray devouring his junk. It was all he could stand. He blew a big steaming load in spurt after salty spurt into the three comely coed cocksuckers while the audience roared with approval and the air again was shattered by their mad clapping.
Wendy clapped hardest of all. While still applauding her young lover, she shot a quick glance to Beverly (who’d been watching events from just inside the pool). Bev nodded as if to acknowledge that it was time and she was helped from the water by her two strong Nubian companions.
As Christina Debbie and Tricia licked the last bits of salty “Vic butter” from their lips and rose to join the hooting crowd of spectators, up Beverly strode. The lovely fifty-two-year-old brunette was still dripping from the pool in her gold micro-kini (which she flicked from her body as effortlessly as if she’d been taking off a bracelet). Now the five foot six MILF towered naked above the hapless and spent Vic (who lay on the lounge below her like a stunned fighter who’d just been knocked to the sand in an ancient arena).
Vic smiled at her uneasily and she returned his smile. She ran her hands over a pair of fake 38DD breasts. Her red painted fingernails tweaked a pair of gumdrop nipples that were pierced with gold barbell jewelry.
As a former stripper, Beverly was used to getting inside the heads of men and she had countenance that was both beautiful and intimidating to behold. She pouted her kisser at him as she twisted and pulled at her nips while cheered. She was all intimidation and seduction at the same time and by her odd expression Vic couldn’t tell if she wished to fuck him silly or serve him up a punch in the mouth. He got his answer a second later.
He’d started to come up onto one elbow off from the cushions when Beverly lashed out with one of her bare feet and its five painted toes. She planted a kick directly into his chest and sent him back against the cushions; he wasn’t going anywhere. Beverly now moved like a flash; dropping down between his knees and commencing to jerk and suck upon his wilting dong as more howls and catcalls rang out from the already booze-soaked crowd of collegiate onlookers.
As an exotic dancer who’d strutted on stages from seemingly every strip club from Vegas to Tijuana, Beverly was known as the naked necromancer, (in that she was hot and raunchy enough to raise the dead)! True she’d retired and married a wealthy San Diego lawyer but she hadn’t lost her charms or appeal. If anything, when her husband kicked the bucket and left her with wealth and even more time on her hands; she used it at the local gym and yoga studio. The end result was she’d ripped, shredded, and twisted her MILF body into something truly impressive and awe-inspiring.
Now she went to work with lips and red-nailed hands upon Vic’s seemingly lifeless dong as he gasped and heaved on the patio furniture beneath them; the crowd screaming for more. At first it was absolutely painful for him the way she sucked and tugged upon his gronk but soon the image of the ferociously beautiful Amazon working upon him combined with the exquisite sensations from her relentless pucker and busy hands had a cumulative effect. In no time he felt a stirring in his loins as she worked him into something as stiff as a rotary club speech and throbbing like a badly-stubbed toe.
Bev rose again and surveyed her work. She thoughtfully twisted and tugged at her pierced gumdrop nipples before shooting a look to Wendy; he’d do… she just had to “test things out.” She straddled him across the chaise lounge and lowered her ripped amazon-dancer body until her pink meat-curtain lips hung precariously over the mushroom head of his throbbing knob.
Vic could see the glint of a gold barbell piercing running straight through the hood of her pulsing eraser-sized clit; he could tell she was just as aroused as he was. She seized his cock in her hand and steered his knob to her notch as her free hand still tugged and abused her titty-barbells. She exhaled, gazed into his eyes for a half instant… and sank.
Bev let out a gasp as she impaled herself down upon the column of flesh and the rush of air from her lungs was met by that of Vic. The crowd even sucked in their breath; making a collective sound as if they’d seen a tightrope walker fall from a high wire. A second later and more staccato applause split the air. Bev and Vic were fused together. They began to fuck. Wendy nodded and smiled approvingly at Beverly’s “preparations.”
Fists once again pounded the air and the cries of GO! GO! GO! were eventually replaced with maddened shouts of FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! It was to be expected from a throng of horny college students fueled by hormones and booze. Heads craned and the crowd pushed up for a closer look as the atmosphere became charged with excitement and sound. Wendy once more realized it had been a wise decision inviting Beverly; it was hard for her to complain about the noise to the police when it was she who was the source of the commotion!
Bev now dangled her 38DD’s in Vic’s face. A pierced nipple found the boy’s mouth. He commenced chewing and sucking at the salty little nub as his loins began to drive his cock up into the woman’s cougar-coochie. The Mexican/Portuguese MILF let-out a moan at first and then a smiling purr, (as Vic’s dong and teeth immediately found just the correct spots and level roughness she required). She raked her red nails appreciatively through his hair and knelt forward; whispering nasty encouragement to him in his ear.
She told him to keep going -just as he was doing. Each thrust of his horsecock ran straight up and smacked her cervix just so, (and commented on that fact in his ear between shuddering breaths). She pulled her nipple from his teeth with a rough pop that made her squeal before she f***ed the other pierced swollen titty nub in between his lips and teeth.
Bev had made up her mind by now he was more than merely competent with those lips and tongue of his. Hell, she reasoned to herself, if he sucked titty as good as this; he must be absolutely devastating with that mouth on a swollen clit. Ahhhh but she decided; that was another pleasure for another time, (as she was wallowing currently in blissful pleasure of having the lovely veiny cock of his pummel and pound her puss-hole absolutely rotten)!
Vic had the advantage now. He could feel the lovely tightness of Beverly’s quim as he thrust and split it with each stroke, but he’d already busted his nuts that evening; he was simply in no danger of blowing his load too early. That was Wendy’s plan; it had been all part of the plan. She’d have him knock her neighbors k**ney’s around for Beverly’s jolly’s and the crowd’s entertainment, then he’d spew and salt her neighbor’s insides before she jumped on that cock herself and got its “true benefits.”
In short, it was a “win-win” for Wendy, (and all three people for that matter). Vic had the good fortune of emptying his nuts in Beverly after spunking in the three coed mouths, (so he’d now be able to rut Wendy for a good long time afterwards). Wendy would not have to worry about him cumming too early inside her and leaving her high and dry. Lastly, Beverly would get to get her “girlie rocks” off on some quality vanilla cock! It was all characteristic of Wendy’s hospitality. Time and time again, she’d invited Beverly over to her house to “borrow a cup of semen.” Wendy was such a good neighbor in that regard!
Now Wendy motioned for the two black water-bucks in the pool (who had until recently been attending to Beverly). The heavily-muscled young fraternity b*****rs sauntered up the steps out of the water and joined Wendy at either side. Her hands went down the front of their trunks as she stroked both men without so much as a look; her eyes keenly focused on Vic and Beverly as the two rutted like a pair of cats in heat for the enjoyment of the screaming crowd.
As for the crowd, more than a few of the braver young men and women by now had not only paired up; they were already feeling one another up. Hands found cocks and fingertips rubbed across nipples or down into fuzzy little clefts. Here and there a cock found entry into a wet welcoming pussy from behind. All eyes still remained locked on Beverly and Vic, but most definitely their energy was contagious! More and more clicks of pant snaps were heard, and more belt-buckles jingled. More skirts were lifted slightly and more underwear of various descriptions… found its way tumbling to the ground.
Yes… over the next ten minutes the contagion that spread amongst the onlookers became something of an epidemic. The cheering subsided into hushed distracted moans and heavy breaths. The energy was now thick, electric, and sweaty; building with each second as all eyes remained locked on Bev and Vic. One thing was for certain… Wendy knew how to throw a mixer!
At last Beverly began to toss her dyed black mane of hair; the pounding sensations became too great – even for her. She had no recourse but to cum, and cum hard! Her mouth became a circular “O” as she shut her eyes and shuddered silently at first, then those very same eyes flung open. She let it all out in a primal orgasmic scream that shattered the night air.
Vic felt Bev’s pink wall’s contract and her triumphant shudder triggered his own sympathetic release. His balls spat hot molten cum for the second time that night; straight up Beverly’s roaring cougar-quim, (which responded in kind with a hot drenching of puss-splatter onto the boy’s loins and the chaise below them).
A muffled cry of appreciation rose from the onlookers; more of an “Ooohh -Aaahh” than a “HELL YEAH;” as if they were all watching a brilliant fireworks display on a hot summer night. Oddly enough now, the evening air was broken by what amounted to a surreal golfer’s clap. The crowd was now caught up in the sexual excitement of the moment and boisterous d***ken yells from just a few minutes ago were replaced now rwith intimate sounds of inspired people here and there getting busy; even the music had changed from a heady pounding club mix to a more chill trance ensemble; specially formulated by a female DJ set up next to the pool bar.
Beverly fell forward onto Vic and gave him an appreciative smoochy kiss. She simply HAD to show gratitude to this wonderful young man with the swimmer’s body attached to the big cock that was still up inside her. She had just cum and cum so damned hard!
“Till later?” she said making eye-contact.
“Later?” Vic said happily with raised eyebrows.
“Never mind,” she said rising up from him as his still hard dong fell from out of her pussy, spilling his salty baby-batter from inside, “you won’t leave tonight without my number. I’ll find you!”
“Beverly?” Wendy chided from just to one side of them and towering majestically over Vic on the lounge, “aren’t you forgetting something? Shouldn’t you be making it nice for everyone?”
“Oh yeah,” remembered Beverly who dropped her head down for one last long hard suck of Vic’s still stiff but flagging cock, (to clean things up). She made a loud slurping pop; tasting the briny remnants of their fuck. Then she was up and walking off with both her black water-bucks on each arm, (both of whom now thanks to Wendy’s velvet grip were hard as broom handles). It was a fair trade!
“See ya later Vic,” Bev called back over her shoulder.
Before Vic could respond Wendy straddled across his crotch reverse cowgirl-style. She took his cock-head at the entrance to her womb, and sank down upon him; sheathing him inside her. He was still hard enough to penetrate deeply and she began to jut herself up and down; keeping him that way. His hands went up to grip her ass cheeks and slowly plow as Wendy prepared for a new announcement regarding the evening’s festivities.
“Friends,” she called out grandly, “in the spirit of a true mixer, I wish that we add a bit of anonymity to the festivities, (for the ladies anyhow).” Her eyes traveled around the crowd stopping here and there to stop on a female’s gaze; holding it momentarily before her sight then found another set of female eyes and did the same. She continued.
“Anonymity, the casual encounter, the casual hookup; these are all favorites of mine. Many of you are still young and idealistic. You’ve been scoping out that certain boy for most of the night in the hopes of an encounter later-on… or maybe some of you have already made that encounter.” There was a small burst of laughter from the crowd as nervous tension was released by a few of the assembled youth. Wendy went on.
“Instead of that young Romeo whom you’ve had your eye on; I ask that we add a little chance into the mix… to give perhaps some of the other fellows a chance; a chance for you to feel their warmth up against you, smell their scent, taste their musk and their sweat. How does a girl know if all the food at the buffet is any good if she doesn’t try the whole range of delicacies; a little here and a little there?”
Now several of the young girls looked at each other. A few of the older and more seasoned coeds merely smiled at one another ( as well as to a few seasoned vets amongst the boys). They knew what was coming; a blindfold encounter or a blanket party; or possibly both!
It turns out the third option was the one that Wendy had selected. She explained quite clearly that nobody at this function was to be pressured to do anything in anyway. She paused and surveyed the group; noticing several of the revelers would not be a “hard sell.” Of the young men and women gathered in the throng; those who weren’t openly fucking off in some corner here or there, were busily executing a sort of “thing” with a red solo cup of booze with one hand, and the other hand busily stroking a lucky cock or increasingly aroused and moist pussy. No… this crowd would not be a hard sell by any stretch of the imagination; she’d chosen carefully and chosen well!
She continued in a loud steady voice to all before her. This was to be BOTH a blanket party and a blindfold party. She explained for benefit of the uninitiated.
“For girls who wish to participate,” she shouted, “you have the option of a blindfold or for being under a blanket to be serviced by as many young would-be suitors as you see fit tonight! The purpose is to bask in the anonymity of this night… a true ice-breaker ladies! For the rest of the year; you’ll see one another in class, in the dorm, at a house party, or in the student union and wonder …was that her pussy… was that his cock… was that her mouth?”
She saw where a few uncomfortable and still clothed sorts shift uneasily and self-consciously. Still she saw even more individuals whom by the look in their eyes; were now MORE game than ever for the evening’s mischief and merriment. She turned to a few assistants from the wasp fraternity clones and clapped her hands twice loudly.
Eight naked young men disappeared into a side shed at the edge of the pool but not before they earned a score of hoots and cat-calls from the assorted female admirers who all noticed their jutting cocks and muscular naked buns as they entered the small building. They emerged at a dead-run; the young men returning with several yoga mats, a large bundle of what looked like oddly cut sheets and a rather large tarp or tent. They strutted before Wendy with their burden like ancient litter bearers. Caught up in the ribald spirit of the moment, the red headed MILF lashed out with a series of mischievous swats on their bare dented asses as they passed her by, making the women of the crowd hoot and cheer louder!
With a clap of her hands again, Wendy summoned another naked fraternity assistant forward. In his hands he carried a velvet box. Wendy smiled at him and then presently held aloft an air horn to the crowd. She instructed all young men not helping with set-up to vacate the pool momentarily; to adjourn to the inside of the house, and to wait for the airhorn’s blast (as it would be the signal for them to return). She then instructed another helper from the black fraternity to draw the blinds of her house once all men were inside so that the “final preparations” were not observed.
Vic saw this as cue for him to get up and leave with the rest. Wendy’s hand shot back behind her; pushing him squarely in the chest. He fell back against the cushions of the chaise; realizing he was to stay precisely where he was put “like a good boy should.” She plunged her hips up and down upon him in a slow milking fuck; a wicked grin across her face. This party was just beginning to get good for her!
Once all non-helping males were out of sight in the house behind drawn blinds, she bid the boy with the velvet box to open the lid. She urged all girls to now come forward. A few curious sorts and eager types stepped forward (along with veteran female coeds), but a great many ladies hung back at first. Soon a few more became curious, then a few more, and then finally all stepped forward. Pleased that there had been no hold-outs, Wendy had each of the girls finish disrobing if they had not already done so and then she instructed each to retrieve a special “something” from the velvet box of gaudy blue and purple.
Pretty hands dove inside the box and each plucked out a lovely silk scarf. When she saw each girl with a scarf in her possession, Wendy informed them all that they now held in their hands their blindfolds. The girls giggled in naughty anticipation of what was to come…(and cum again).
Behind the young ladies, the fraternity helpers had almost finished their setup. From beneath Wendy’s delightfully bouncing derriere, Vic sucked-in his breath with a touch of bewildered fascination at the sight. The patio area had in no time at all been “transformed” by the group of young men who’d obviously done this before for Wendy.
Vic had noticed something “different” about the pool area when he’d first stepped outside, (but the beer and Tequila had distracted him immediately and he’d put “it” out of his head). Now he remembered; there had been several odd lengths of yellow clothesline running across the patio area that looked ugly as hell overhead. He’d never seen it before and quite frankly; a lady of Wendy’s taste would never allow something as gaudy as the yellow nylon chords to be extended above her lovely Spanish mission pool. It was all very odd.
The work crew of fraternity rakes had now apparently “hung the clothes on the line,” as it were; for suspended from one line were several sheets dangling just in front of a hastily-assembled straight-line row of deck furniture. Each of the sheets was pinned to the line and collectively; they formed a strange wall of fabric running the length of the pool’s south end. Stranger still; each of the sheets had three holes cut in its center, (not unlike the glory-hole setup Vic had seen in the skate park restroom). Victor Brock nodded, smiled and understood, (at least in part).
Stranger still; Vic noticed the large blanket or tarp was now suspended by its center to several stout metal hooks fastened to many more of the gaudy yellow chords. It presently resembled a sort of ready-made “tepee” of sorts; with additional support being provided by a jerry-rigged pole placed in the center of the structure. The support pole ran up through the “blanket’s” middle before being hooked into a ring hanging from the Veranda ceiling above. Inside the “tepee” the fraternity men were making the final preparations; placing yoga mats upon the concrete deck and allowing the mats to lie half inside the tent and half out. It all looked rather ramshackle at first glance but it seemed sturdy enough and functional for whatever it was to be used for.
Wendy now bid all of the veteran sorority girls present to assist the younger “newbie” ladies present. She told the girls that if they wished to participate in the game, they had a choice between the suspended tepee-like “blanket” or outside at the improvised glory-hole wall of sheets that fluttered slightly in the breeze. She then told the girls that at any time they felt they’d had enough they could cease participation in the games and if they changed their minds and wished to switch from the “blanket” to the “wall of sheets,” they were free to do so; the only catch being that if outside the tent they should keep blindfolds in place to ensure the delightful anonymity of the games.
The experienced female assistants; to include Christina, Debbie, and Tricia now helped the younger girls find a place to “play the game” either at the blanket or on one of the pool-deck loungers before the wall. Girls at the wall were seated on the lounge cushions comfortably, then blindfolds were tied-in place over their eyes. As a last bit of assistance, the “helpers” asked each seated girl if they needed their red solo cups filled. With liquid refreshments taken care of at the sheet wall; attention then turned to the conical suspended “blanket.”
There, several girls were quickly ushered underneath the rim of the tent and placed on all-fours; resting on the yoga mats with their lovely bare asses sticking up high in the air outside the tent, (and with their heads and upper bodies inside the tent, facing into the center). Drinks were quickly refreshed for the young ladies and then the group of male and female “assistants” took their places at the door to serve as spotters.
Wendy now nodded and grinned with a happy smile of satisfaction. All was set as it should be. As she bounced up and down on Vic’s prominent penile pogo-stick, she raised her air horn high. A second later and the evening air was punctuated with a blast of BWAAAAAHHHHHH from the horn.
The blinds to the house were pulled back, the glass door slid open, and the young men inside spilled out. They were all wearing blindfolds (as per instructions of the helpers inside whom had passed them out). Just as in the case of the young ladies… there was not a hold-out in the bunch all wished to participate and therefore all had to obey the rules set forth by the supreme mistress of ceremonies herself, Wendy. As they left the doorway, spotters grabbed the young men and ushered them either to the tent or to the sheet wall on the opposite side from where the young ladies waited.
At the tent (with its odd starfish array of several female heart-shaped rumps jutting up from the sides like so many fleshy legs), several lines of men were placed in multiple long lines; each line taking up position behind a female “be-hind.” The result was that the tent looked like a bizarre multi-tentacle sea creature with many naked male tentacles trailing off from behind an equally naked female hiney. The young men stood awkwardly in their lines and in their blindfolds, awaiting instruction.
At the wall, men were arrayed in shorter lines on the other end of the sheet opposite the young women. Spotters then whispered in the ear of the man standing in the front rank of each line to remove their blindfolds and place their cock through the central hole in the sheet in front of them. They were told they could place their hands through the hand holes next to the cock-holes but they were forbidden to be rough or un-gentlemanly to the girl on the other side. The men in the ranks behind the front rank were then told to remove their blindfolds and patiently wait.
The girls on the other side of the sheet were guided by female spotters to the cock in front of them. Groping female hands found penises and there were more than a few gasps of surprise from the men on the other side of the sheets. The wall of sheets was now set and ready. There was one thing left to do.
Wendy nodded to the DJ to commence with a special light show for the party. With a flick of a switch from her console the pool and patio was suddenly bathed in a kaleidoscope of alternating psychedelic hues of blue, green, purple, and aquamarine shades. The lady DJ then cranked the chill trance music louder. The atmosphere wasn’t just set; it was groovy.
Wendy bid the young men in line at the tent to remove their blindfolds and see what was in store for them. As the lines of young bucks did as told, they looked up their lines and saw the lovely rump of an unknown young lady whom would be shortly “pulling their particular train.” As the music throbbed like an aching aroused cock being rubbed against a pulsing clit, Wendy raised the air horn once again.
BWAAAAAHHHHHH! BWAAAAAHHHH! sounded two shrill blasts; signaling the commencement of activities. Down at the tent, each man in the front rank of “tentacles” positioned himself as best he could in a doggy position behind a female rump and began to fuck. A chorus of moans was immediately heard welling up from inside the “torrid teepee.” At the “wall of sheets,” each blindfolded young woman leaned forward and grasped the cock protruding from the sheet-hole before her; before commencing to suck upon it.
Wendy nodded to the spotters and assistants who now moved off to a line of their choosing. They had been most helpful and could now “join in the fun.” A few veteran men took up positions at the end of the octopus arms of the tent. Others found what they perceived to be “the short lines” behind the sheet wall.
Of the veteran girls; a few sat down at unoccupied holes in the sheet with a cock already conveniently waiting for them, dangling from the hole. Others headed to the tent; to plop down on the yoga mats and “start new lines” with their delectable asses jutting out from the edge of the tent. A few boys in the longer lines around the tepee took the hint and “broke ranks” to stand behind the freshly available and unoccupied asses of the veteran ladies; who were soon “occupied” with a big veiny cock deep in their puss-holes.
Wendy, bouncing up and down on her Vanilla pony and enjoying herself immensely, suddenly looked off to her left. She noticed Beverly was (just like her), bouncing up and down on a dong; that belonging to none other than one of her two black water-bucks. Bev had the other member of the pair positioned at the head of the line on the opposite side of her sheet; his cock dangling now from the hole like a veiny elephant trunk.
The ex-stripper seized up the black veiny member in her hands, turned to Wendy and shot her a sly wink of gratitude before she commenced sucking. Wendy returned her wink and leaned forward to grab at the cock dangling from her own glory-hole. She turned back to Vic over her shoulder and said,
“Just like last night in the skate-park. Do it just how you did last night baby!”
She then turned back and began to suck; her red head bobbing hungrily as a pair of hands to either side of the glory-hole seized her by the back of her head. The moan of a boy could be heard distinctly from the other side. Vic filled his own hands with Wendy’s hips and began to slowly and deliberately fuck his MILF lover. Just like the night before… it was on!
What followed was pure orchestrated bedlam. At the tent, several strong youthful sets of shoulders and arms plowed waiting female hips; the young men plunging themselves deep inside the rumps of the gasping coeds. The moaning female chorus coming from somewhere inside now rose to a fever pitch… like the tent was filled with a hive of bees that had been kicked. Now that same chorus was joined by the young men outside; huffing and heaving like galley rowers above the lovely female fesses beneath them, (adding a drumbeat rhythm of smacks and impacts to the melody).
At the “fabric glory-hole wall,” pretty lady-heads bobbed like little birds pecking and plucking long fleshy worms from the safety of their hiding places. Female voices hummed sucked and moaned into cocks, (at least some of the more experienced ones). Men gasped appreciatively from the other side.
A few of the younger freshman ladies peeked from under their blindfolds and looked at the cocks before them like it was their first time eating a lobster. They appeared to wonder what they would ever to do with such a thing? A glance left and right at Wendy, Beverly, and the other female veterans gobbling throbbing young male dong-sicles, and that was all they required for inspiration! They then replaced their blindfolds and followed suit with lips and hands. On the other side of the wall male voices whimpered moaned and shuddered between deep heavy sighs of relief.
And so it went. Vic had a ringside seat to the festivities over the next several minutes as one by one, boys everywhere hit their culmination points and roared with delight; spewing warm baby gravy into the hungry mouths of young ladies at the glory holes, or squirting it deep into the upturned fesses of the girls under the “blanket tepee.” It became something of an odd spectacle for him to watch. As soon as a young man was spent and done, he was simply replaced with another strong prick and driving mid-section to poke the womb-chute or tonsils of some eager woman. The ladies simply didn’t have long to wait, (and barely had time to snatch a sip from their solo cups before another cock made its presence known to them).
Wendy most of all epitomized this aspect of the spectacle. With her talented lips tongue and throat, she knocked down throbbing male members over the next forty-five minutes like nine-pins. Dudes came and went through the hole but Wendy was undeterred. She never tired or let up, determined to get every last salty drop from that line before her… every last… drop.
VIc decided that his was the easiest task of anyone present. All he needed to do was to keep edging himself and plow his cock steadily up into Wendy’s delightfully plunging hind-quarters. It was now that he saw the genius in what she’d done; having first the young girls and then Beverly get him to blast the contents of his nuttsack earlier for the cheering crowd. She wanted him to stay hard long into this spectacle and with those previous two cumblasts combined with her edge-training… he could last a good long fucking time, or a good long time fucking! He pushed, he plowed, he fucked, and Wendy’s delectable derriere rose and fell on his pole while she dispatched cock at her other end with rapacious slurping efficiency.
As the minutes passed, Vic noticed something else. At first a few girls began to tire at the wall and they rose to seek out an empty space at the tent. With their rumps suddenly upturned at the new location, they were able to give their jaws a rest and at the same time their wait was not long at all before a line of boys broke off and sauntered up behind their haunches to begin a deliberate doggy-style shag. A few girls at the tent who’d been getting plowed like a wheat field for the last hour began to notice their insides becoming tired of the relentless cock-pounding and spunking and they put on their blindfolds and set off for the wall; peeking under their blindfolds and wondering if they would ever walk properly again. Still a third group of ladies began to tire completely; throwing in the towel and stepping off to use the restroom or freshen up their drink before calling it quits. A fourth group of girls got up, took off their blindfolds, and located that special “somebody” leading the young lucky fellow off to some more intimate corner of the pool or portion of the house.
Wendy noticed this as well. Her female “competition” much like the cocks they had been draining dry, was flagging. Soon it was only her, Beverly, and a handful of die-hard female graduate students left in the number of women available to service the crowd of young stiff cocks. Wendy shot a glance to Beverly shouting in between slurps,
“Your jaw hurting honey?”
With a young dong dangling from her lips Beverly shot an emphatic nod back to Wendy. The black water-buck underneath her had long since shot his load up inside her and been swapped-out for his partner, (and the new fellow had just spent himself minutes before up into Beverly’s pink squeezing quim-chute). Wendy saw and opportunity and made a suggestion.
“To the tent with me Beverly,” she shouted to her neighbor, “don’t worry… your line will follow you, just watch!” With that, Wendy rose up and stood with her head peering over the clothesline while pulling the sheet down in front of her. She stared at a line of about five boys who still had yet to be drained.
“Boys,” she said, “any of you with balls that need emptying, follow me to that tent and get in line behind me!”
Wendy then turned and pulled Vic from chaise as Beverly followed her lead and told her own line where to go. The two hot MILFs then sauntered to the tent with two trails of college boys behind them. It was as if the both of them were none other than the pied pipers of impatient pecker!
Vic found himself pushed inside the tent and no sooner inside, he found himself pushed down upon a yoga mat by the f***eful Wendy. A moment later and she was down upon his loins, her mouth full of cock and her ass pushed up high and outside the tent. A shuffling of feet outside told Vic that the line of boys was hurrying up behind her and a nasal grunt from Wendy a second later announced the deep penetration of a cock inside her pussy from the first lucky lad in line.
A moment later and Beverly’s smiling face appeared from under the tent flap. She took up a position adjacent to Wendy and after raising her rump skyward and outward; a loud wide-eyed grunt from her pretty face signaled some young lucky young man’s occupation of her insides. She bit her lip and began to buck back against the cock with relish and wicked zeal.
Over to his right Vic saw three older girls (most likely grad students), who moaned wide mouthed and shook their pretty heads feverishly. There was no telling how long they’d been there. He didn’t know their names. All he knew was they were soaked; their drenched heads of hair trickling rivulets of perspiration that streaked down their faces and dripped onto the mats beneath them. Behind them, the hands of young men groped from underneath the tent flap for a better grip of their hips and pulled them back onto hard pummeling cocks with furious rapidity.
For a moment Vic studied their faces. They were contorted in a mixture of pain and sexual ecstasy and Vic mused that they looked like the old actors masks that smiled and frowned the outside of old-time movie houses. The three women wailed and howled like a Greek chorus but Vic eventually tuned them out; becoming distracted by more pressing matters. He turned his attention back to Wendy and gazed down into her sultry eyes as she voraciously sucked him like she was absolutely famished for semen and intent at getting every last drop from his balls.
Outside the tent more women “threw in the towel” at the gloryhole wall and quit; having had enough. Their jaws and tongues needed to rest and their bellies had that “I can’t believe I drank the whole thing,” feeling. A few sauntered off to the restroom, a few filled their cups. A few made lewd gestures to potential boyfriend material and headed off to the shadows with their “would-be prince charming.”
More shuffling of male feet on cement indicated that the herd of cock had shifted once more and moved in the direction of the fuck tent, as hopeful horny men queued up again in the dwindling lines (hoping to bust a nut in one of the upturned female rumps presented there). Wendy and Beverly had become paragons of penile-pumping industry; their cunts pummeling back hard against the oncoming cocks with ruthless efficiency. Over the course of time Vic lost count of how many young men spent themselves up in the pink depths of Wendy and Beverly and he marveled at their appetites. Both women were unfazed by the pummeling however; each taking the next new cock and spending it as easily as if it were a facial tissue before accepting the one to follow it and so on and so on…
Vic saw that the other three young women began to fade; they were finally succumbing to the toll of the penile onslaught and were f***ed to “tap out.” As the three ladies one by one left the tent over the next several minutes…their lines shifted. Finally it was merely Wendy and Beverly. Now there were two.
The pair of women had completely lost track of time and how many cocks had pummeled their wet pussies by now. All Wendy and Bev knew was they were in a constant state of agitated arousal… going from one climax to another in a stream of little quaking multiple “O’s.” Each new cock felt like a battering ram of flesh; crashing headlong over and over into their puss-holes before decorating their pink chutes with salty youthful splashes of shuddering appreciation; only to be replaced of course moments later by another fresh male member following the “passing of the baton.”
Regardless of how many cocks there had been, both women were in a swirling state of bliss. Their bodies thrashed frantically; endorphins coursing through their veins as a spunky mix of sweat, semen, and quim juices flowed freely down their thighs and bellies in little rivers of salt and funk. It puddled on the mats beneath them in briny little ponds and the air in the makeshift tent was thick with the smell of sex and the moans of all present.
Also “quite full” was Wendy’s mouth as she slammed her head up and down on Vic’s cock. She could taste his pre-ejaculate slime on her tongue and she knew he was “close” once again. She re-doubled her efforts on his knob with her lips, tonsils, and raking choppers; it was all Vic needed.
Vic threw his head back in an agonized howl of joy, only to have Beverly’s hand shoot out from the corner of his vision and grab his hair; pulling his face down onto her mat while Wendy gorged and sucked him through his climax only inches away. Bev fell upon him; her mouth covering his and muffling the scream of his crescendo with deep French kiss while yet another girlie-gasm tremor shivered up through her spine.
Wendy caught sight of this and as Vic’s warm salty spunk filled her mouth her heart filled with a twinge of jealousy. Beverly may have been a house guest and Wendy was good about sharing her toys with others, but not while she was playing with them! She gulped down Vic’s load of warm coppery goodness and greedily gave his shoulder a tug. As the young man moved back to her corner Wendy seized his face in a kiss of her own; shooting the still shuddering Beverly a look from one eye to just remind her whom the alpha she-cougar at this party truly WAS!
It didn’t matter really. Beverly collapsed forward onto her mat, blubbering and shaking a puddle of sex piddle. She’d had enough. Truth was, she’d “had enough” five cocks ago, but kept going out of a sense of competition with Wendy.
Bev picked up her red solo cup and swished it; frowning at its empty state of affairs. She then lifted up the tent-flap and announced she needed a breather to the young un-serviced men still standing in line behind her in the queue. A groan of disappointment rose from the group followed by the padding of bare feet on concrete as the boys in the line merely formed up in the train behind Wendy’s formidable fesses, ( which still held fast like a sea-wall before a gale). Bev left the tent and… now there was only one.
Wendy bucked back hard against the anonymous fellow plowing her insides from behind; triggering his death-rattle-like orgasmic shudder. It was as if she were “dispatching” him with her on girlie loins in a mercy kiling. The young-man moaned and gurgled; letting loose with a surprised, “Aw shit here it cums!” before he spunked and splashed deep in her pretty pink poke-pipe. She broke her lip lock and smiled up into Vic’s face.
“Another one down,” she commented with satisfaction.
She could keep knocking them down like nine pins actually but not without a little refreshment. She flipped up the tent flap behind her and viewed the line of ardent men standing behind her waiting “their turn.” It looked a bit like people queuing up for bread and sausages in old Soviet Russia, but it also seemed on further inspection as though the sausages had already been provided.
To any other woman who’d just been subjected to the ferocious train-pulling she’d already withstood, that line of young men would have been an intimidating site; a complete spirit crusher. Two any other woman it would have been a damnable daunting task, (but not to Wendy). She was a lady of “appetites” and when she looked up the line of jutting cock, she didn’t see toil and work ahead for her; no far from it!
The greedy little girl inside her; the one that always wanted to snatch the last brownie, always wanted the prettiest dress, always wanted the most presents at her birthday parties and Christmas; simply looked up that long line and saw firm slender flanks, youthful buttocks, and jutting cocks. This line was not for her to service… it was there AT her service! She would stop playing with them when she was damned good and ready.
She felt those other women at the party (to include Beverly who was stumbling about naked with her drink like some pierced-titted train-wreck and looking for her twin black water-bucks), well…they were all just lightweights who couldn’t hang. She knew a good satisfying thing when she saw it and she simply wasn’t satisfied yet-didn’t have that aching-full feeling from the boy buffet laid out before her. She looked over her shoulder to Vic and smiling to him said,
“Get me a fresh drink and meet me back at the chaise dear. Oh and have that cock back up and running with some sort of shape that can burrow inside me lover!”
Vic got to his feet and shuffled off with Wendy’s cup in hand. Wendy watched him leave and turned back to “the line” announcing she was making a change-up. When a collective groan of blue-balled protest rose from the file of young bulls (all wishing to have a run at her), she told them all to “simmer the fuck down.” She informed one and all she was merely moving things to the chaise where she could handle more of them at once and take a little strain off her knees. If anything, she’d milk them bone dry faster with what she had in mind!
Vic returned from the pool bar with a full solo cup and a handful of his own sl**py piece of lad-lumber. He was like a boy-scout attempting to light a fire with only one stick; rubbing furiously and readying himself for whatever it was Wendy had in mind. It was fortunate that Wendy had “shifted” things and sent him off to fetch a drink; enough time having passed that he had something drinkable in one hand and “workable” in the other. Straddling the chaise she turned and reached for her drink saying,
“Ah right on time as I was becoming so thirsty. Are you and my favorite toy ready to re-join the fun?” Vick nodded and grinned, rubbing his prick in a horny fashion; he’d manage by his estimate.
“Good,” she said taking pleasure at both the sight of his revived throbber and his visible confidence that bordered on youthful bravado, “then get behind and underneath me.”
With that, she took her drink from him and raised her rear haunches up into a crouching squat of from the cushions; allowing Vic to slide in beneath her as if she was going to sit in his lap. With Vic’s proud pecker pointed skyward; Wendy plopped herself down and happily impaled her pussy on his shaft. She shot him a wicked smile over her shoulder; took a swing from her drink, and set it down before turning back to the line of young men waiting in front of her.
“Give me three of you!” she said to the line. A few of the boys looked at each other as if confused and Wendy became impatient.
“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon! One, two, three,” she said pointing to the first three in line who a second later stepped forward hesitantly.
She positioned a man to either side of her and one directly in front of her; standing at the foot of the lounger. She pulled the young man directly before her forward so that he was f***ed to step ahead and straddle either side of the deck furniture; making his dong dangle at her lips. She leaned forward and began to suck and the boy immediately placed a hand atop her head; tossing his own head back with eyes closed. Wendy then seized the jutting cocks of the men standing to her immediate right and left and commenced to jerk them both; churning their members like she was a milkmaid making butter. Vic knew his part and he began to row and stroke up into her quim through her cleft in her lovely rump cheeks; the game was set and on!
In this new arrangement Wendy displayed her formidable skill at dispatching proud jutting Johnson’s with gleeful enthusiasm, and over the next hour or so; she made cocks pop like kettle corn and with great splashing regularity! She’d suck the man in-front of her to the edge, then upon seeing the guy to her left or right was ready to spew; she’d turn her head and suck the man in her hand off to orgasm down her gullet only to return back to the cock directly in-front of her. She’d then suck the boy dead ahead to a salty spouting finish and just push him happily out of the way, (and so it went).
Again and again; the cocks came. From no-matter from what direction they angrily throbbed at her; it simply didn’t matter. She was ready to handle “all-cummers” and she brought each boy in turn to a protein splattering man-gasm in her vicelike mouth before seizing the next one… and the next… and the next!
Vic’s job was easy by comparison. All he needed to do was slowly stroke and plow and edge himself up into her juicing quim, (and now that he’d busted his nuts so many times that evening… this was a task he took on with little or no effort). He simply gripped Wendy’s hourglass figure and rowed as the chill trance music pounded on from the DJ booth and the bartender kept sending drinks over to him.
One by one the boys with their cocks came and one by one Wendy felt their death throws; smelled their sweat, reveled in the sound of their shudders. She loved their hands pawing her tits, tweaking her nipples, reaching down to snatch a quick grope of her asscheeks or fiddle her clit as she jerked and sucked them on and on. She was now feeding as much on their release of energy as she was their seminal explosions. It was as if her hunger was for their very male essences; her appetite only whetted by the cum-splosions instead of being satiated by them.
When at last the final three men thrashed their heads in turn and their cocks spouted one at a time in the clutch of Wendy’s pouty lips, Vic sensed he was ready too. Wendy immediately picked up on his, “I’m nearly there again” vibe. She decided she wanted to bring Vic off in a particularly special fashion as part of the evening’s sexual crescendo.
She rose, wiping the last bit of jism from her lips; popping it into her mouth. She observed the last three spent young men in the line as they sauntered off to the keg. She then surveyed the rest of the celebration. The party was raging now around them, (and so was she inside)!
She pushed her boy toy Vic back down upon the cushions (treatment he’d by now become accustomed to at this party), and straddled his cock; facing him this time. She leaned forward and her hands found the sides of his face as she pulled him to her lips in a frantic passionate kiss. Her pelvis ground upon his coursing cock, milking him hard with her hips and at the same time her clit banged and rubbed against him in a frantic rut. She wanted this last one to be a strong one and she wasn’t disappointed.
Vic’s hands came down and seized her buttocks; gripping the rounded lovely halves of her ass and hammering up into her madly. He’d made up his mind he’d make her spine feel this one! She in turn slammed herself furiously down upon him, intent on grinding and pounding him through the mattress if need be; the whole time her lips remained locked to his. When it arrived; it arrived for both of them at the same howling furious instant.
Vic snarled into Wendy’s mouth as his cock spewed rope after hot salty rope of ball batter up into her quim. Wendy met his snarl with one of her own and she bit down on his lip as she came; drenching his shaft and balls in her flowing juices. Her chewing growls melted back into warm happy kisses shared by the two as they lay naked together; basking in the afterglow of the party that had been swirling around them now for hours. The music pounded and pulsed on and the gel lights threw their eerie shades of green, magenta, blue, and red around the pool as the revelry continued.
Much later, about an hour before the sun cracked the horizon in the east; the house was now a scene of quiet aftermath. The now dark pool was filled with the smell of spilled beer, sweat, sex and above all, quiet. Red solo cups littered every possible surface. Beverly’s shoes lay next to the pool’s edge as she’d forgotten them completely after she’d located her two black waterbucks, called it a night, and taken them each on her arm; leading them back to her house by way of a hole in Wendy’s side hedge. Here and there; pairs of naked college students who’d “hooked-up” lay sl**ping it off on deck chairs and chaise lounges (one plucky couple having the where-withal to tear down the teepee and use it for a large blanket on the yoga mats).
Inside the scene was quite similar only somewhat more crowded. Most of the partiers had left but there were a few die-hards that had helped “close things down,” (and who were too inebriated to find the door). Naked and half clothed bodies snored on the furniture, on the floor, and the stairs. Littering the carpets, tiles, and closets were a bumper crop of red solo cups; some empty some half full. The air held the same funk and the same pervasive stillness; the only difference was somewhere upstairs someone was dialing a phone in the dark sl**py stillness.
Lovely female hands quietly punched away on the keypad, dialed, and on the other end the line buzzed. It buzzed again. It buzzed a third and a fourth time. The recipient on the other end finally picked up and the voice of a sl**py young man answered.
“So you made it home from the party?” Wendy whispered into the phone, her eyes staring into the dark of her bedroom. She’d locked the door so the partiers downstairs couldn’t creep up to her bedroom and disturb her. She wanted quiet. She needed to make this call.
“Yeah,” replied the young man still foggy with sl**p, “I’m in bed.”
“You alone?” she asked snaking a hand down between her legs. She found her warm special spot; giving it a teasing tickle listened for his reply.
“Yeah, my roommate never came back. He went to a party as well.”
“You wearing anything?” she asked.
“Hmmm? Oh nope,” he answered.
“Good (giggle) what I like to hear!” she replied.
“Un huh,” the youthful voice acknowledged. He needed sl**p but a phone call like this was equally desirable. He was torn in his hierarchy of needs between sl**p and the MILF on the other end of the line. His hand found his cock beneath the sheets; the need for the lovely woman’s voice and attentions having “won-out.”
“You are touching yourself while I talk to you,” she said knowingly “aren’t you?”
“Yeah, so?” he said surprised she knew.
“Oh nothing wrong honey,” she cooed into the phone, “nothing wrong at all. I’m touching myself too …and wishing it was you!”
“Uh hunh,” he answered; his hand finding just the pace he needed. The thought that she was doing something similar f***ed bl**d into his eighteen-year-old cock; making it push up the bed sheet.
“You remember how good it felt when I first touched it? It seems like so long ago. Do you remember how my hand felt on it that night?”
“Mmmmnn…yeah I do,” he huffed into the phone.
It was working. Her voice was having just the right effect and for better or worse; the memory of the event was stuck in his head like a barbed hook. She went on.
“Well the next time we get together there’ll be more things to do; nasty wicked things! More wicked than that first time and more fun than tonight. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” he answered.
“Alright,” she cooed again into the phone, “well honey you need your rest. sl**p late. Rub one out and pretend it’s my hand again doing the rubbing ok?”
“Kay,” he said back into the phone.
“Goodnight sweetie,” Wendy breathed into the phone as her own masturbatory exertions made her shudder slightly, “I’ll be thinking of you!”
“Goodnight Aunt Wendy,” he replied before he heard the phone hang up.
In the darkness of Wendy’s home, the red-hot MILF with the fiery red hair rolled over onto the sl**ping “Victor Brock with the slumbering cock.” She began to suck her sl**ping lover to hardness in the darkness. She tossed the phone onto the nightstand as his organ began to rush with bl**d; he still snoring and dead to the world. Next to the bed were Vic’s clothes, (his pockets it seems, stuffed with bits of paper containing the phone numbers of Beverly and three other girls from the party).
The cock throbbed in Wendy’s lips. She wondered how many strokes it would take before he became conscious; she was anything but tired and her conversation from a few seconds before on the phone illustrated her appetite for mischief and kink on so many levels. As her head bobbed up and down, she took wicked pleasure of another sort; the secret knowledge that far away at another college campus her cuckolded husband’s nephew was thinking of her and making himself cum in the stuffy darkness of his dorm room.
…But that is another story for another time perhaps.