God this felt good. I wanted to use my hands and grab her ass and her tits and fuck her hard, whoever this was. What a glorious pussy, my cock was so wet and I could feel her juices dripping down my balls. But I couldn't tell who this was...More slow, steady up and down, grinding, hands rubbing my balls. Carol knew I loved this, but she could have easily told Debbie what to do...
Shit! My dick was in either my girlfriend's pussy or that of her good friend and I couldn't tell. But I sure was enjoying the ride....Back to the 50-50 guess, but I wasn't going to guess until the sensations stopped or I was going to come, which was very, very soon.
As soon as I felt the imminent moments before I came, the woman stood off me and withdrew my cock from the heat of the wonderful sensations of the hot pussy, with an audible groan from me.
I just had to guess..."Carol...you again..." I just didn't think she would have Debbie fuck me.
I guessed wrong.
"Nope! That was Debbie, you horn dog. I was so sure you would be able to guess, but I guess you're not as good as you thought, huh..." Now it was Carol's turn to gloat a bit. I was sure turned on, but so was that wet pussy on top of me. Perhaps that would work to my advantage...
"I think he was close to coming Carol...we'd better be careful on the next one," said Debbie. The girls had a good, chummy laugh at that one.
"You're probably right...he looks ready to burst, don't you think?"
"Yeah...that filled my pussy but good...you're a lucky girl.."
"It's been a while for you hasn't it Debbie," said Carol.
"Sure has dear...more than usual..back to Bob..."
Both broke down cracking up laughing...
"Who's Bob?" I asked, being a bit left out of the banter, and wanting to get back to the game at hand, and trying to behave and not just jerk off.
"Who's Bob..." they said in unison, and again almost fell to the floor laughing.
Finally, after the giggling simmered, Carol said, "It's not 'who' but 'what', silly...battery operated boyfriend...haven't you ever heard us girls use that one before?"
"Ha...good one...never heard of that before...so who's winning by the way?"
"It's just 5-4...only one point lead for you dear Dave...one point lead..."
"Don't get cocky..." again, minutes of crazy laughing...even I laughed at that one and at them carrying on.
Then I heard the whispering and the challenge..."better get this one right..." said Carol.
Again, the footsteps approached, and I felt someone stand on the sofa with one leg on either side of me. I could feel the heat and the sensation and the aroma of aroused woman as a pussy sank down towards my face, that I instinctively turned upwards to meet the approaching treat.
I felt close-shaved pussy hair tickly my nose and lips and felt a warm wetness coat my lips. It was so hard to not let my tongue lick and mouth devour the woman standing straddling my face. But this was Carol, not a doubt. That's why the challenge because if I guessed this one wrong, I may never get laid again. Still, I savored the wet pussy being rubbed back and forth across my mouth. I did open my mouth because I couldn't resist anymore and licked the pussy atop me.
The thighs squeezed my head and ears and I couldn't hear the groan but I could feel her gasp and open her pussy a bit more so that I could put my tongue deeper in to her dripping pussy and feel her clit rub harder and harder against my mouth.
I felt a shudder of a small orgasm and an increase of the fluid coating my face and then she stood and climbed down, and I licked my lips trying to gather every last drop of nectar.
"That was you dear Carol...I'd know that pussy anywhere..."
"We gave you that one...I just had to have you lick me a bit...I'm burning up over here..."
6-4 now...almost there...I could just imagine the 4-handed massage and two women all over my naked body for hours as we fucked and fucked the rest of the night.
"And dripping wet too...you know you taste so good babe...and one more point to the win ladies...I can sense victory..."
"Not so fast Casanova... we've got another round to challenge you..." Carol said.
"That wasn't fair though Carol...you came just a little bit didn't you..." I asked.
"Yeah...I guess I did...couldn't help it...sorry...weed affects me the opposite...I get so horny I can't stand it...doesn't it for you Deb?"
"Yeah, me too...I almost came a moment ago but I didn't want Dave to come so I stopped..."
"Alright Dave....for the possible game-winning event, you're gonna have to lie down on the sofa, but still no hands...and definitely no coming..."
I obediently did as told and lay on the sofa and planted my hands behind my legs.
Whispering, giggling, planning....
The approaching footsteps and then felt someone climb on top of me and without ado, put my cock quickly and deeply in her burning pussy. This pussy was definitely wet and definitely hot and definitely close to coming. As was I. She fucked me slow and deep, with strokes up and down, hands planted on my chest and grinding her pussy hard against my bursting cock.
Then two hands pulled gently on my nipples as I loved and I was on the verge of coming after a few minutes. I'd been turned on and hard for almost 30 minutes, and dying to come in/on one of these lovely ladies.
But then were these a second pair of hands? I couldn't tell...the pussy on me was too hot...too intense...and then she stopped, and let me calm down...but the hands kept playing with my nipples. I thought there was a second body next to me but wasn't sure.
Then a second body climbed atop me, and I felt my head covered with a crotch and my mouth quickly covered with a dripping pussy...this one was definitely not Carol's, because she tasted so different. Carol was fucking me and Debbie was on my face, and I was eating her out...god she tasted good...she was rocking and rubbing all over my face as Carol resumed grinding her clit against my pubic bone the way I knew she liked to do, the way that would make her come.
And sure enough, in another minute, though my ears were silenced by Debbie's thighs wrapped around my head, I felt Carol come and shudder and scream in orgasm. I followed right then, coming hard in Carol's wet and burning pussy. My yells were stifled by Debbie's pussy, and then she too came as Carol was squeezing her tits and I felt her pussy clench and coat my face with her juices. I had released my hands by now and held Debbie's tits in my hands and Carol and I felt and encouraged Debbie's orgasm and her nipples stiffened in our hands as I was drenched with her juices.
They finally rolled off me and my Carol's pussy dripped loads of our combined juices on my balls and thighs and I breathed fresh air and my blindfold was removed.
Carol fell to the back of the sofa, not letting go of my cock, still aching and hard, slick with our wetness, as Debbie sat on the floor next to us...all of us breathing hard and trying to catch our breath.
"That was awesome, " Carol finally said. "I told you that weed makes me so horny."
"Me too...you guys are wild..." said Debbie, breathing deeply and with satisfaction.
"I'll play this game with you anytime...you are some hot ladies. I think I like what the weed does to you...crazy imagination...but I won, right?
"Seems like we all won, right?
"Sure enough...hot stuff I'll never forget, that's for sure," Debbie said.
"Me too...me too..."
The End.
Dream Girl
Rodney Johnson hated meetings -- endless, boring meetings, just so the talking heads in expensive suits could all point to the I.T. guy and say, "Look, tech support is here. See, we really DO give a shit about network security...or database management...or software integration...or blah blah blah..."
Bleary-eyed, he stifled a yawn as he sipped tepid coffee from a paper cup. Serves me right, he thought, staying up until 2:00 am on a weeknight. But gaming with his buddies was just what he'd needed, fragging the hell out of his friends online until he almost passed out in front of the computer screen and finally dragged his exhausted ass to bed
. He couldn't think of a better way to de-stress after a hard day.
Except maybe one.
Rod shot a furtive glance across the table at her -- Ms. Diana Archer, administrative assistant to the general manager -- his dream girl, the goddess he worshiped from afar. She looked almost as bored as he felt, but she hid it well from everyone, everyone but him. Rodney had watched her for months, studying all of her quirky little mannerisms; he felt like he knew her better than anyone else did, even though she'd barely ever spoken to him. He knew she liked her coffee with extra cream and two sugars, and he recognized her perfume, even when she was no longer in the room. Her lovely hazel eyes gazed intently at the notepad in front of her, but he could tell her mind was a million miles away. Her light brown hair was twisted in the back and held with a clip; messy little wavy tendrils caressed the back of her neck, and he desperately wanted to brush them aside with his fingertips and kiss her there...and there...and that other spot over there. Hell, he just wanted to kiss her all over. Reverently and respectfully, of course – because she was, after all, a goddess.
She wore a white blouse, unbuttoned just one button lower than office-appropriate -- and every time she fidgeted, every time she breathed, the fabric strained over her full breasts. The material was slightly sheer, and he thought her bra must be made out of some sort of lace, very thin, because her nipples just barely...
It suddenly occurred to him that he was staring at her tits, and he hastily looked down at his notes, scribbling furiously and hoping no one had noticed. Rod tried to appear deep in thought while they discussed the proposed firmware upgrade next week -- but all he could think about was rubbing those sweet little nubbins with his thumbs, and he could feel a firmware upgrade beginning in his crotch. Son of a bitch. Sporting a visible boner for his boss's secretary would be a severely career-limiting move. He had to adjust things to make it less noticeable, but he couldn't exactly grab his dick and yell, "Down, boy!" The meeting was drawing to a close, and there was no way in hell he could get up and file out of the room with everyone else, not in this condition. Unbidden, a bizarre picture flashed in his mind: of himself dressed as Teddy Roosevelt, leading the charge up San Juan Hill – not with an outstretched arm brandishing a cavalry sword, but waving his erect penis as a signal to rally the troops. Oh, hell no. He had to think fast.
He knocked his pen to the floor and kicked it nonchalantly (he hoped) under the conference table. Clearing his throat apologetically, he crawled under the table. If he could just shift his erection a little...it was too obvious poking down his pant leg, but maybe if he could push it up to get it to lay flat against his stomach, strangle it with the waistband of his boxers...or at least wait until everyone else had left the room...maybe he could slip into the men's room and tug a quick one off in the bathroom stall.
His breath caught at the sight before his eyes. Ms. Archer had kicked off her shoes under the table, and her toenails were painted deep cherry red; he supposed that if he licked them, they might taste sweet, like real cherries. Her legs were bare, no stockings, and he could smell the light, exotic perfume she always wore that he'd grown to love. He inhaled, breathing in her delicate scent, and wondered if she'd put a little dab behind her knees after her shower that morning. She shifted a little to slip her shoes back on, slightly hiking up her navy blue skirt, and her thighs parted for just a moment. Rodney swore he heard a heavenly choir as he was graced with a glimpse of Paradise: a perfect view of her yellow cotton panties, with little white daisies on them. His mouth went dry and his heart hammered in his chest as he pictured sliding his hands up her smooth skin, burying his head between those sweet thighs, and nuzzling and nipping gently at those tiny flowers. Fuck, oh fuck, this wasn't helping matters. Rod scrambled backwards clumsily, and whacked his head sharply on the underside of the table.
"OW, shit!" he exclaimed, rubbing the point of impact.
Ms. Archer peered under the table, a concerned look on her face. "Oh, my goodness, are you okay, Mr. Johnson?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he muttered, backing out from under the table.
"You know, I was going to call you today anyway," she said.
"Oh?" He could tell that it still wasn't safe to stand up, so he sat back down in his chair and began shuffling through meeting notes, pretending to be intensely engrossed in them.
"Yes, I'm having some problems with my computer. It keeps giving me a message that new software has been installed, and rebooting over and over – it's so frustrating! I was wondering if you could stop by my office maybe about 4:00, help me figure out what's wrong?"
"Uh, sure, okay, you'll still be here?" His voice shook a little and he cleared his throat, hoping she didn't notice his eagerness.
"Yes, that would be perfect." She smiled sweetly and he could feel his face grow hot. He didn't trust himself to speak without stammering, so he just nodded and kept staring at the papers in front of him.
"Umm, Mr. Johnson..."
He hadn't realized she'd crossed over to his side of the conference table, but suddenly, she was standing right next to him. Startled, he looked up from his meeting notes as she leaned over slightly, offering him a fabulous view of her gorgeous breasts. And yes, he could see that she was wearing a lacy white bra. It seemed she moved in slow motion as she reached her hand toward his...slowly, so slowly, she took the stack of papers, rotated them 180 degrees, and whispered, "These were upside down -– now they should be a little easier to read." She smiled again, winked, and left the room, humming to herself.
Back at his desk, Rod watched the minutes tick by on the clock; the rest of the day dragged so slowly that he felt like he was wading through quicksand in concrete combat boots. He answered countless tech support calls, removed viruses from three company laptops, and virus-scanned his own PC twice. He tested every pen on his desk, and threw out a couple that were dried out and inkless. He programmed several alarms and alerts into his iPhone - most importantly, one for his date...er, appointment with Ms. Archer. Too nervous to eat lunch, he downed two energy drinks and a Coke, then realized that was probably a mistake. He crumpled his useless meeting notes into little paper balls and shot baskets into his trashcan, or at least in that general direction. He started to make a graph of how many successful shots he'd made vs. how many total attempts...
And his phone interrupted with "Pour Some Sugar On Me". 3:45 -- YES. He hit the snooze option to silence it, and pumped his fist in the air. At 3:45 on a Friday, normally he'd be grabbing all of his stuff and racing to the door to beat rush hour. Instead, he was grabbing all his stuff and racing to the elevator to work unpaid overtime, and he couldn't be more excited. He shut down his system, gathered everything, locked his office, missed the elevator, took the stairs two at a time, and made it to the sixth floor by 3:53. The place was a ghost town since everyone tended to skate out early on Fridays. He walked quickly to Ms. Archer's office, panting, running his hand through his hair, trying not to sweat.
Her door was open, but her office was empty. What the fuck, she left early with everyone else? Rod's heart sank to the pit of his stomach. He was tempted to just go home and start drinking his way into the weekend, maybe annihilate some enemies in World of Warcraft, but his sense of duty won out. Sighing, he sat down in front of her computer, and started a preliminary scan. Yep, just as he suspected, it was the same virus he'd cleaned off those laptops earlier. He'd get rid of it, but it would take a little time for the whole system scan to finish, and for the virus protection upgrade to install. At least he was in her chair -- a chair that smelled of her perfume and had likely been in direct contact with her gorgeous ass just minutes ago. He smiled at that thought, leaning back and closing his eyes.
"Pour your sugar on me...oh, I can't get enough..." The snooze alarm on his phone went off again, but Rod was so exhausted that he dozed through it, incorporating the song into his dream -- which was rapidly turning into a not-safe-for-work rock video. Diana Archer was the star, bumping and grinding in a tiny yellow bikini. The
n the bikini evaporated, and she wore nothing but daisies in her hair as she drizzled golden honey over her breasts. Mesmerized, he watched as she straddled his lap, slowly sliding her hands over her skin. Her left hand teased and tweaked her nipples, while her right hand continued down between her legs. Rod groaned as she slid her slim, perfectly manicured finger into her womanly wetness. "I'm hot, sticky sweet, from my head to my feet yeah..." Her eyes half-closed, she smiled down at him knowingly, and slipped her finger, slick with her juices, into his mouth. He sucked greedily, tasting honey, and flowers, and wine, and...
"Ooh, good song, I love it –"
"Me too," he breathed. He could feel her moist heat as she hovered just inches over his lap. He thrust his hips upward, seeking contact, but couldn't quite reach her.
"Def Leppard is such a great band," Diana declared. Rod wasn't sure why she was suddenly so interested in discussing music, but at this point he really didn't give a damn. Tossing back her head, she lifted her hair from the back of her neck while she gyrated to the song. Her breasts tantalized him, like luscious, ripe peaches just out of reach, and he was a starving man desperate for a taste. Rod tried to pull her down against his body, but found his arms were bound to the chair with heavy silver chains. Chains? Seriously, what the fuck was going on? He growled in frustration.
"Mr. Johnson, is everything okay?"
Rod's eyes flew open, and Ms. Archer was peering into his face, with the same look of gentle concern he'd seen after the meeting.
"Wha...?" He looked around in confusion, then down at his wrists, which were not manacled after all. "Oh man, I'm sorry," he mumbled, rubbing his hand across his eyes. "Late night last night, must have fallen asleep."
"Yes, I can see that," she said. "Between that, and whacking your head this morning, it's no wonder." She gave him a sly, sidelong glance and asked, "Did you know you talk in your sleep?"
Climax Taboo Erotic Collection Page 109
