Ohope Gang bang

Literotic asexstories – Ohope Gang bang by Mingemuncher,Mingemuncher
I have just finished a major rewrite of one of my first stories (Ohope Beach). As I sat piecing together all the events of that summer and getting them in order, my mind kept straying to events in the following year. One in particular stood out. It was the first, and if I remember correctly, the only proper gang bang I’ve ever been involved in.

I have titled the story ‘Ohope Gang Bang’, although it has little to do with Ohope. I only called it that to keep it in alphabetical order with the previous story, as it naturally follows on. This story can easily be read alone, although some things might make more sense if you read the Ohope Beach series first. And even if you did read it eleven years ago, it has changed from the original version, as I have had time to correct many of the inconsistencies from the original.

Also, if you only want to read about a hot, steamy gang bang, then skip a few pages, as I’m going to ramble on for a bit and try to give an idea of what it was like for me in sixties New Zealand, but much of my rambling is relevant to the subsequent gang bang.

Being the Swinging Sixties, you will be thinking it was all sex, drugs, and rock & roll. Well, it may have been in London, NY and LA. But in conservative New Zealand, this was seldom the case. Most people I knew attended church most Sundays, although I had seen through that farce by age eighteen. The church, and indeed schools and parents, hammered into us that sex before marriage was evil. The girls bore the brunt of this brainwashing more than us guys. They were brought up to believe you did not get married to a decent bloke if you were not a virgin. So, any decent girl you wanted to go out with played pretty hard to keep her virginity. But as I mentioned in the previous story, there were always some that could not say ‘No’. You did not take many of these back to meet your mum.

My father left my mother when I was three, so it was just my mother and me for a few years until she remarried when I was ten. There were always women friends around visiting my mother. I was often subjected to comments like; Ohh, He’s such a cutie. Or, look at those brown eyes. He’s going to break a lot of hearts when he is older. As I grew older, I had them commenting on my beautiful hands and long fingers, and would hear; He should play the piano, or on more than one occasion, the comment about how the girls were going to like those long fingers – followed by a hand over their mouth and muffled giggling. I had no idea what they were on about, but instinctively knew that their comments were naughty but complimentary.

My positive interaction with so many women in my youth gave me confidence around the opposite sex, which led to me nailing a lot more women than my mates when I became sexually active. At parties, I would be frequently found amid a group of girls, listening to them discuss all their problems, whereas my mates would be on the opposite side of the room, discussing Rugby, Racing, & Beer. This led to taunts of my being gay on more than one occasion. Jealousy, I guess.

I should also cover my new stepfather. He was an arsehole. He hated the fact that he had to share my mother with me. So, I became very independent, often escaping the house and hitching a ride to friends’ homes for the day. The one place I would go with my parents was to my stepfather’s friends, Muriel & Frank. They were an older Yorkshire couple with a wicked sense of humour. Muriel doted on me, always had baking in the tins, and fed me up on cakes and biscuits. They had an excellent gramophone and a superb collection of 78 LPs, Elvis, George Formby, and three or four records of very ribald English comedians. I devoured and memorised those scandalous records and had a dirty story ready for any occasion for the rest of my life. It was one of the happiest days of my life when my stepfather died, even though it left me with a deep sense of guilt about my happiness.

Anyway, at the start of 1967, two significant events happened after that fateful Ohope Beach holiday. On the ride home, my beautiful G45 Matchless motorbike threw a rod and destroyed the engine. It meant I had to cadge rides to get to work until I could buy my first car, a 1954 Vauxhall 10, for forty pounds. If this seems cheap, I’ll point out that I was earning around ten pounds a week at the time.

The second was my mother informing me she was remarrying in that first week home. As my relationship with my first stepfather had been so bad, I decided to go flatting. I did not want my presence to interfere with my mother’s third attempt at happiness. It was the correct decision. My new stepfather became like a true father to me, and we got on like a house on fire.

I moved into a flat with Alan, a guy I worked with. He was in the group I holidayed in Ohope with. Our flat became the de facto hangout place for our large group of mates. But in particular, Phil, Pete and John. These were the nucleus of a much larger group we hung out with. They consisted of old school friends, guys we surfed or played rugby with and guys we knew through work. Of this wider group, I should mention Ding, as he is relevant to the events that followed. His name was also John, but we called him Ding, as he owned a surfboard with a massive ding in it. He was an old friend of Phil’s and a terrific artist.

Alan and I had steady girlfriends. I had been taking out my girlfriend, Glenys, for a year and a half, and I had still not gotten past first base, which had me driving home with Blue Balls most nights. But I hung around because she was beautiful. I mostly saw Glenys on Saturdays and Sundays, as she lived on the other side of the city. Our gang frequented half a dozen central city hotels most Friday nights, where we got plastered, picked up girls and took them to parties. The Coburg Tavern in Queen St was our most common hangout joint.

The mate I should cover in a little more detail is Phil. He’s the one who bonked Jenny in the Ohope Beach story. When we returned from our summer holiday, he did sneak a few visits to see Jenny, but that had petered out. He was seeing a girl called Linda and had been for a year or more. Linda was your atypical blond. She was attractive but more concerned with her appearance than anything else. I’d say ‘typical blond’, but I knew plenty of intelligent blonds, so I steered clear of that common cliché. Phil put up with her, as he was getting lots of kinky sex. She was game for anything he could think up.

Once Alan and I moved into the flat, Phil wanted to use our place to have it away with Linda, as he still lived at home with his parents. Alan wouldn’t let Phil near his bedroom, but I didn’t mind if he placed a towel over my covers to catch any mess. Phil sounded me out more than once about my joining them in the bedroom. It was not something I was interested in. At that tender age, it seemed plain wrong to even think of getting in the same bed as a mate and his girlfriend. My religious upbringing, I guess.

One day, when Phil and Linda came to Bonk, I escaped outside to clean my car. He came out after an hour and asked if I would go in and smack Linda’s bum while they had sex. I immediately declined, but Phil was insistent, saying it was her idea and she was keen on me.

I pointed out that there was no way I would share my girlfriend with him or anybody else, so I was uninterested. But after some more discussion he convinced me to come with him to the bedroom, emphasising it was her wish as much as his.

Linda was lying on top of the covers naked, covering her pussy with a hand, but not worried at all about me staring at her decent set of hand warmers. Suddenly, I was more than a little interested. I’ve always been a tit man. And she had a fucking gorgeous pair.

Phil climbed onto the bed, pulled Linda on top, and then they went to town. Tit’s aside, I was on the verge of taking off, fucking embarrassed to be sitting there perving. But when Phil yelled at me to smack her arse, I hesitated only for a moment. The sight of Linda humping him in a sexual frenzy stopped me in my tracks, so I bent over, and I landed a soft smack on her butt.

“Harder,” Linda cried.

And I landed another slightly harder smack.

“Harder than that,” She cried out again.

So, I gave her a decent whack. That still wasn’t hard enough. I had her arse ruby red by the time she climaxed. She turned and grabbed me, and pulled me into bed beside them.

“You’re not getting away yet. I want you too.” She said as she wriggled herself down between Phil and me.

I looked to Phil to see what he thought of this and was not surprised to see him nodding and grinning at me. So, without any todo, I rolled on top and gave her a good seeing too. I did complain when Phil smacked my arse, though, and he had me roll her on top so he could lay into her bum. It was actually very good. Every time he smacked her, she clenched her arse, and her cunt gripped around my old fella. I’ll tell you for free, I didn’t last very long.

For me, it was a one-off. I made sure I left the property when Phil brought Linda around after that. Later that year, he did share her with a couple of mates at a party, but I’ll save that for another story. Phil never married Linda. The following year, he met up with his future wife, and they have been happily married for about fifty years. His wife would have a heart attack if she knew of the things he got up to with Linda – or maybe not.

….

Near the end of the rugby season, in August. John’s car broke down, and it fell to me to drive him around. He lived with his mother and two sisters in a Statehouse in Sandringham. These were multi-units offering low-cost rentals to people on low incomes. By multi-unit, I mean they were two-story units attached for the length of the street, much like the terraced houses you see in England, although of much cheaper designs/materials.

I was never that close to John. He was very crude around the ladies. His mother was an alcoholic, and he was incredibly protective of his two younger sisters. But with other women, especially any one-night stands, they became scrubbers or sluts in his eyes as soon as he had slept with them. This attitude pissed me off somewhat. Especially as he quickly put down any girl I picked up, he would drop comments to the effect that anyone in the bar could have had them, which was simply not the case. Sure, I had the odd easy chick, but I always preferred the petite, innocent, attractive young ladies that my mates said I had no chance with. I invariably would have them laughing and eating out of my hand by the end of the evening and occasionally nailed one on the back seat of my car. Consequently had way more than my fair share of virgins.

Generally, though, John was great when out with us boys. He had a quick mouth and could be as funny as fuck at a party. But this highlighted another issue between us. I could also light up a party and get it rocking, and I don’t think he enjoyed my taking his limelight. Still, if John were on form, you would go home with a sore jaw from laughing. But he could just as easily use his mouth to put someone down, faster and harder than if he used his fists. Not that he ever got in a fight, but he sure did start a few.

The other thing that irked me was the ribbing I received from all the guys about being hung like a donkey. I hasten to add this was not true. Sure, I had an inch or so on all my close mates, but my coozer was no eight-inch monster. And whereas I secretly took some pride in my other mate’s gibes, John’s digs always made it seem I had an affliction that no one else would want.

He wasn’t the only one of my mates who had misogynist feelings towards women. Many of the others, including Phil, could be pretty crude about the opposite sex at times. He used to call Linda ‘Piggy’ because she snorted and grunted like a pig when she fucked. Bloody hell, there would have been blood in the streets if I dared to call my girlfriend that.

Ironically, John’s mother used to try to match me with his younger sister, Christine. She saw me as a good catch and always hinted at my taking her out. And I knew that Christine had the hots for me, as when I went around to their house, she would make suggestive eye contact with me behind John’s back. One night, when I called to pick him up, Christine came out of her bedroom wearing a quite suggestive outfit. She sashayed across the lounge, pushing her chest forward so I would take notice of her tits. John went ballistic, ordered her to her room, and when we got out to my car, threatened me with castration if I ever touched his sister. He wouldn’t let me drive off until I promised him, on the bible, that I would never touch her.

One Saturday, when I went to pick John up to take him to rugby. I saw a lady sitting on the steps of the unit next to his house. I naturally smiled and said hello to her, then rang John’s doorbell. His mother came out and said John had gone down to the shops. She asked me in, but I declined, as once she was on the Gin, she could be a handful and would make suggestive comments. I said I’d wait in my car. But as I turned to leave, the lady on the steps beckoned me to sit with her.

I was only too happy to join her. She was very pleasing on the eyes and didn’t look too much older than me. Her name was Elizabeth. Her husband had cleared off and left her with a ten-month-old baby. She had been on the waiting list for a Statehouse for several weeks and had finally received this three-bedroom unit as a temporary stop-gap. She told me she was as bored as hell and was open about the fact she was enjoying my company. When John arrived, she whispered to me to come and see her again.

The previous year I would have been reluctant to call on her. But my summer relationship with Allison had given me newfound confidence. I mentioned in my previous story that Allison had called by the flat several times after the summer break, but her visits had petered out months before. So armed with this new bravado that older women were not untouchable, I snuck around and visited Elizabeth several times over the following weeks.

Elizabeth flirted and laughed at all my stories on each visit and was very forward with me. But I was not brave enough to make a pass at her. Of course, I did fantasise about having sex with her. She was twenty-six, blond and attractive, but she seemed much older. And her having a baby, etc. I never thought for a moment I stood a chance with her.

She had the barest of essentials in her unit: no TV or radio and barely any furniture. So when an old schoolmate asked me if I wanted his parent’s Gramophone and all the 78 records that went with it, I immediately thought of Elizabeth. I roped in one of my surfing mates, Ron, who drove an old ex-ambulance, and we picked the Gramophone up and delivered it. It had a damaged record stacker, but I knew I could repair it. As I sat and began to pull the turntable to pieces, Ron said he had to go, leaving me with no transport. But it was not an issue. I expected I could go next door and knock John up to take me home later, so I told Ron to go.

Elizabeth was over the moon and asked me to stay, teach her how to use it, and stay for dinner. By the time I had the player working properly, it was dark, and Elizabeth was making dinner. I got some music playing, then sat on the floor and played with the baby. After dinner, she calmly opened her blouse and breastfed the baby. She seemed nonplussed that I was getting a good perv on her breasts. I was embarrassed as I instantly got a boner, which had me asking if I should leave.

“Don’t be stupid. Have you not seen a baby being fed before?”

“No.” And I hadn’t, not up close anyway.

“Would you like to try some?” She said, flashing her spare breast at me.

The thought of taking her nipple in my mouth made me even harder. But it seemed wrong, especially with her baby sucking on the other breast. So I shook my head and said, “Maybe another time.”

“She’s almost finished. I’ll put her to bed, and you can have a go if you want. I always have too much milk and will need to pump the right one in front of you anyway.”

So I nervously sat there watching her finish feeding and tried to converse normally while my mind was doing summersaults, wondering if she was really going to let me suck on one of her tits. Soon, she had the baby tucked away and was back sitting beside me. She did not have a bra on and had left her blouse unbuttoned. What’s more, she was excited; it showed in her body language and expression. I did not know how to start, so Elizabeth leaned over and kissed me, then pushed my head down to her breasts.

Her blouse was wet and transparent over each nipple, giving me an almost unobstructed view of her perky brown nub.

“See, it’s already leaking. So you can help me out,” Elizabeth said as she pulled the blouse aside, exposing her breasts. 

I’d seen a photo on the dresser of when she was younger and noticed she was flat-chested. But now, pregnancy had swelled her breasts to much more than a handful. They were perfectly proportioned and did not sag an inch. I would have sat staring at them all night if she hadn’t pulled my head onto a nipple. I wrapped my lips around it and sucked. A warm cream streamed into my mouth, and I had to swallow quickly, or I would have choked. I was surprised both at how quickly it came and the volume. I sucked a little harder, pulling the nipple into my mouth. It hardened and lengthened, responding to my sucking. I reached up and cupped her other breast in my hand, then swapped over and flicked my tongue across the tip of that nipple. But the breast I’d just let go of kept squirting milk, and Elizabeth pushed my head back to continue emptying it.

“She’s emptied that one. You can pinch the nipple and play with it, but you need to empty my other breast before we can do anything else.”

So I returned to sucking on her right breast, my mind working overtime about what ‘doing anything else’ may mean. Surely she didn’t mean fucking. Could she?

After a few minutes, Elizabeth’s breathing grew laboured, and she pushed my hand from her left breast down onto her leg. I was in no doubt now where this was going. I worked my hand up her thigh to her panties and began to massage her mound through the thin material. She spread her legs, granting me more access. So I pulled her panties to the side and touched her pussy for the first time. Soon I was sliding my fingers up and down her slit as I continued to drink her sweet-tasting milk. She moaned at me, not to stop, and began grinding down onto my hand.

When I felt her tensing up and about to come, I tried to sit up and roll her over. I wanted to fuck her so badly. But she resisted and told me to keep sucking her dry, as she’d never felt this horny before.

“I want to come from your sucking on my nipples,’ she groaned.

I doubled my finger action, sucked her hard teats deep into my mouth and held on as she climaxed.

“Oh god,” she cried, “I never thought I could come just from having my nipples sucked. It was so good.”

We lay there on the settee while Elizabeth caught her breath, and then she dragged me upstairs to her bedroom. I had gone soft in our walk to the bedroom. Seeing this, Elizabeth went down on me and had me hard again within seconds. I couldn’t stand it and pushed her away, and I dived down between her legs and ran my tongue deep into her slick honeypot. That didn’t last long, either. Soon we were fucking like dogs in heat.

I stayed the night. After we had finished our second fuck, it was far too late for me to go next door and ask John for a ride home. We fucked again in the morning, and as it was Sunday, I didn’t bother to get up until I heard some noise from the next-door unit.

When I got over there, John was the only person up and about, thank god. It was pretty obvious where I had spent the night, and he gave me shit all the way back to my flat. He ribbed me about fucking an old married slag with a baby, which was the very reason I would have liked to have kept the relationship private. I’d have punched his lights out if he hadn’t been a mate. Instead, I just sat there and endured his sexist diatribe.

In the following six weeks, I’d visit Elizabeth once, sometimes twice a week. Mostly on Tuesday or Thursday nights, as these were overtime nights, I finished work at 8:00 pm and would call in on the way home. We’d have a heavy season of exciting sex, and I’d be home before midnight. The weekends I reserved for my girlfriend, Glenys. I felt a bit of a prick, not for Glenys, as I was getting no sex there, but for Elizabeth, feeling that I was two-timing her.

One night, while we were lying naked in our post-coital bliss, I brought up my being disloyal to her. Elizabeth brushed off my uneasiness, “I don’t mind; you’re my big toyboy. I can be myself with you.”

It made no sense to me. Every woman I had ever known was super jealous of other women, and I pushed her. ‘Why?’

“I need to find myself a good man. I can’t survive in a statehouse and on a benefit. I hardly have enough money for food. And to get a husband, I need to act the part of a virtuous, pure-as-snow, untouchable woman. Something I have never been very good at. I know you are not going to marry me, and being on apprenticeship wages, you’re not what I’m looking for anyway. So I can be myself with you and have fun until you leave me for your beautiful young girlfriend.”

We talked for a couple of hours before I dived between her legs again.

Our sex always started with my suckling on breasts. She admitted to only letting the baby empty one on the nights I was visiting so she could get off whilst I drank her other one dry. After that, we would head to bed and experiment with various positions. She wasn’t particularly experienced, as she had only had sex with two people. Her husband, obviously, who she painted as a ‘Wham, bam, thank you, Mam” kind of guy. And a girlfriend before him. It intrigued me, girl on girl, wow, and I made her tell me all about it. She would turn me on when I ate her out, pretending I was her girlfriend, sucking her to orgasm.

Soon, though, Elizabeth began asking me if I’d take her out. I hedged around this for some time until she asked if I was not keen to be seen out in town with her – something I vehemently denied. But the fact was, I was taking a lot of flack from all my mates about seeing a woman with a baby who was eight years older than me. It embarrasses me now that I was worried about this. She was beautiful, and I should have been proud to be seen with her.

Still, I tried everything I could to put off having to take her out. How would she find a babysitter? I was booked up all weekends with my girlfriend, etc, etc., etc. She had answers for my every excuse, and when I played the Glenys card, she encouraged me to bring her around so she could meet her. As if that would ever happen. Finally, I could not put it off any longer and arranged to take her out for dinner and a movie on a Wednesday night.

She arranged for John’s sister, Christine, to babysit, and when I picked her up, Christine gave me a very knowing smile as I walked Elizabeth out the door. She looked stunning that night. She wore a deep blue dress with high heels and a long black coat, and she had put a lot of effort into her makeup.

I remember that we went to the El Matador up Symonds St and that the meal cost me more than my week’s wages. So it must have been about twelve pounds. I also remember her informing me at dinner that she was sitting there with no panties on and then pulling my hand under the table to feel her up. Fuck, we were in a restaurant full of people, for Christ’s sake. The waiter knew what was happening and hung around us like a bad smell all night. Elizabeth flirted with him, which fucked with my head. I was so jealous that we had our first argument on the drive to the eight o’clock movie.

It was an Elvis movie, her favourite singer. I was more into the Beatles, although over the years, every time I hear Elvis’s number, ‘I Just Can’t Help Believin’, I think of Elizabeth. But that song was not released until 1970, so my memory is inaccurate. Of course, we made up in the movie, and I had another good old feel and gave her a glorious orgasm during one of Elvis’s songs. She tried to reciprocate and jack me off. I put a stop to that. No way was I getting my cock out in a half-full movie theatre.

She asked me that night about my moving in with her. There was no pressure. She just said having me around for a while would be nice.

Fuck, I was tempted. It’s not like I was falling in love with her or anything. But we got on so well. She played no games. And the sex, fuck, I’d never had anything like it. She reckoned I had to be the best lover in New Zealand. I just had to touch a nipple, and she was all go, anytime, anywhere. Her nipple was like an ‘on/off’ switch, and she had two of them.

Elizabeth was the complete opposite of my girlfriend, Glenys. Glenys was from a very good family, attended Auckland Uni, and was beautiful and intelligent. All my mates reckoned I was punching well above my weight with her. But fuck, did she play games. I always thought I was on the verge of nailing her, yet we went out for more than two years before I did. Even my mother told me I was being used and should grow a backbone with her.

Anyway, when Elizabeth and I got home from our night out, Christine was sitting on the couch waiting for us. I expected her to jump up and run back home, but she stayed put. Elizabeth dragged me over and sat me between them, and Christine wriggled close, smiling sexily at me. Then, the two of them began dropping hints. Fuck, I realised Christine was expecting me to cuddle and kiss her. I jumped up and ordered her to go home. Elizabeth followed her to the door and paid her. Then she gave me a funny look when she sat back beside me. 

“I wouldn’t have minded you fucking her,” she whispered.

I gave her an incredulous look.

“What? Don’t tell me you wouldn’t want to. I’d have liked to watch. She’s not a virgin, you know. She’s been coming over to talk with me and tells me she has a boyfriend.”

“Christ, her brother will kill her if he finds out. He’s made me promise I will never touch her.”

“What a shame. So that’s why you kicked her out. John doesn’t have to know.”

“But I will, and I’m not going there, and that’s final.”

It was then that I knew I had to be strong and end the affair, or I was going to get seriously out of my depth. My relationship with Glenys was getting more serious. We had been having some very heavy sessions, and I thought I was very close to sleeping with her. We had discussed going away for a dirty weekend with Phil and Linda to Phil’s sister’s holiday place. It was definitely time I decided on one or the other.

The thought of breaking up with Elizabeth hurt, though, and the following Tuesday, I was back in the sack with her, swearing under my breath that it would be the last time.

Only five guys turned up at the Coburg Tavern the following Friday night. Our other mates were all doing different things. We sat, drank and talked shit, as usual. My mind was not altogether on what the others were saying. I was fighting off the urge to visit Elizabeth after the pub.

Near closing, we circulated the bar, talking to everyone we knew, trying to find out if there was a party happening. But unusually, no one knew of any. So we bundled out of the pub and went around the corner to the London Bar to see if we could rustle up a party there. No luck there either, so Alan, Phil, John, Ding and I decided to go back to our flat and have a nightcap before having an early night.

We all piled into my car. I was always the designated driver. I’d been pulled up several times and had always managed to convince the officer I’d hardly had a drink. Times were very different. There were no breathalysers. The officer would get you to walk along a line, touch your nose with your eyes closed, etc. All of which I could do easily with a belly full of grog. Don’t get me wrong, drunk driving was a very serious matter, but everyone did it, and there were few convictions. You had to be legless to get done. I was generally happy to drive and did not attempt to if I felt unable. Also, I did not trust my mates if they’d had a drink. Hell! Allan had already written of a car, stone-cold sober, and would write of another before he was twenty-one. No one wanted to drive with him.

I had hardly pulled into traffic when John piped up, “Let’s visit my trampy neighbour. Dave’s fuck slut.”

My temper flared, and I tried to shoot that idea down smartly, saying I was in the middle of finishing up with her, and it was not on.

John shot back, “Well, it’ll be okay if we all fuck her then.”

That incensed me even more, but I got no backing from the other three. They just laughed at me and agreed with John that it was a great idea. I tried to dig my heels in and say I wasn’t driving them there. But I was fucked, as I had to drop John off at his home anyway. And no way did I want Elizabeth to be subjected to this rowdy, half-drunk bunch of idiots without my being there. They got me to call in at our flat to pick up some drinks. And once in the door, John told me to call her and say we were coming. I refused, so John called himself and told her I wanted to see her.

When he got off the phone, he said, “She’s up and waiting for us, Dave. Sounds keen to fuck. Can we all watch?”

I knew he was just taking the piss, but I couldn’t help but get wound up even more. That settled, he rummaged around in our dresser and retrieved a bottle of Rochdale Cider. It was the elixir that young guys used to pry girls’ legs open back in the day. It was cheap and did the trick. You had to be careful, though. If you gave your girlfriend too much, she’d have her head down the porcelain throne all night. You didn’t need alcohol with Elizabeth, but John didn’t know that, so I said nothing about the cider.

We left in two cars. Phil took his. He had left it at ours earlier that evening, and driving straight home from Elizabeth’s was closer. Ding went with Phil, and the others piled back in with me.

My mind was in overdrive as I drove to Elizabeth’s. It was only a couple of miles, but I went through a thousand scenarios of how to curb the disaster I expected to unfold. I sort of understood why John had it for women; there were rumours about how his mother paid for her Gin. But Phil came from a good home. His father owned a building business, and they were better off than all of us lot combined. Alan’s family was pretty rough, and I knew his sister had pulled a train with the local biker gang. And yet, he treated women much better than the other two. I thought Ding might side with me, as I’d never seen him denigrate any woman. But Ding was a follower. He seldom rocked the boat.

Elizabeth met us at the door. My mood wasn’t improved by the welcome she gave us. She was excited and flitting around like a young girl in a candy shop. It also upset me that she had dressed up, put on makeup and high heels. I knew dam well from all my visits that at this time of night, she would usually be in her robe with curlers in her hair. She wasn’t wearing a bra. You could tell by the two jiggling peaks trying to push their way through her blouse. She stood above all the guys except Ding and me in her high heels. We were both over 6′ tall. Alan was the shortest at only 5’7″, John and Phil were around 5’9″, and Elizabeth was 5’8″ in her stockinged feet.

She hustled us all in the door and closed it before the nosy neighbours had time to raise their curtains. She took hold of me and tried to kiss me. I resisted and only let her peck me on the cheek, not wanting to show affection in front of my mates – stupid male shit!! Also, I knew I was meant to be cooling things down between us. 

Elizabeth pulled me down beside her on the two-seater couch, and John squeezed in on the other side of her – which pissed me off. Ding grabbed the only armchair, and Alan and Phil pulled the two dining chairs over to the other side of the coffee table.

I was thinking about what to say when Elizabeth extracted herself from between John and me, grabbed the carton of beers Alan was holding, and went to the kitchen to pour us drinks. She came teetering back with the drinks, then crossed the lounge to put on some music.

Five sets of eyes were locked onto those long legs every step she took, rather too sexily, in my opinion. There was a suggestive swing to her hips that wasn’t there when it was just her and me. She bent at the waist to lift the lid of the Gramophone, and her skirt rode up to the top of her legs. A stab of pain clutched my stomach. I expected the worst, as she seldom wore panties when I came around in the evenings. Thankfully, I got a flash of black lace that told me she was wearing some. But became further agitated when I noted she had on her best lacy black knickers. I knew every pair she owned. It was further evidence of her having put a lot of effort in for a bunch of horny young guys.

She stacked up some 78s on my repaired turntable post, set one of them playing, then kicked off her high heels and returned to sit between John and me. I noticed that the three guys sitting opposite us were leering at her legs, which, thankfully, were tightly closed because she was squeezed in so tight.

John was surprisingly quiet. I’d expected him to drop some of his risqué innuendoes and even some pretend accidental groping. But he just sat beside her, playing the perfect gentleman.

It was Phil who made the first move, and it was all my own damn fault.

Ever since he and I had shared his girlfriend, Linda, we had swapped stories about our sexual escapades. He told me quite intimate details of what he did with Linda, and I tried out his latest depraved act on the next girl who would allow me. I hadn’t gone into much detail about Glenys or Elizabeth. Well, you don’t with someone you care about, do you? There was nothing much to tell about Glenys anyway, as nothing much more than heavy petting was happening. But I had told him about how sensitive Elizabeth’s nipples were and that she loved me sucking on her breasts after she had finished feeding her baby. Phil had been very impressed with that bit of information.

There had been a heightened sexual tension in the room since Elizabeth had paraded herself across the room and flashed her lace panties. A stilted conversation was going on, but I stayed quiet, working out a way to extract Elizabeth from what I believed would turn into a tortuous situation for her. But I hasten to add, up to that point, I never thought anything more than drunken hijinks were likely.

In a pregnant pause in the conversation, Phil leapt up, stepped around the coffee table and leaned over John. He cupped Elizabeth’s breast, took her nipple between forefinger and thumb, and rolled it around, saying, “I’d like to taste some baby juice.”

Instead of slapping Phil’s hand away and going ballistic, as I would have expected, she lay her head back and let out a passionate moan. And seconds later, grabbed my hand, clutched it to her other breast, and manipulated my fingers around her rock-hard nipple. The actual game changer, though, was that she began to lactate. Her milk stained the front of her blouse and turned it translucent. Giving all of us a murky view of her erect nipples standing up like elevator buttons.

Alan jumped up, stepped around the coffee table, pushed my hand aside, took the nipple and pinched it hard. Elizabeth snapped her eyes open to see who had pinched her. She smiled when she saw it was Alan and let out another ecstatic groan. John slid off the couch from under Phil, stepped behind it and began undoing her blouse. And when he had all the buttons undone, he dragged it over her head and threw it to the floor, then began kneading the parts of her breasts not already taken by the other two.

I looked to Ding, hoping for support, but my mouth was so dry that I couldn’t speak. I was frightened I’d sound like a stuck pig. He was laid back in the armchair, fly open, holding his prick. I gasped at the sight of him. He was bigger than me. Shit, I’d been the brunt of so much ribbing over the past two years about the size of my prick. And Ding had sat next to me and joined in their razzing, yet the bastard had that bloody weapon hiding in his pants.

My mind returned to the present when Alan gave up the nipple he was pinching and nodded to John to look after it. He then disappeared down between her legs. I watched what John was up to, ready to interject if he tried anything too perverse. I just sat there nervous and disappointed in myself for letting this go so far. But I didn’t know how to stop it without making a scene and looking like a total jerk. Elizabeth’s lack of resistance had also thrown me. You heard about this sort of thing happening but never thought it would actually happen.

Then I heard the sound of Elizabeth’s zip being unfastened. I looked and saw Alan struggling with the clasp at her waist. He couldn’t get it undone. Elizabeth let go of my hand. I hadn’t even been aware she was still holding it until I felt the pain of the blood rushing back, so she had to have been gripping it bloody tight. Elizabeth calmly reached down, took the clasp between thumb and forefinger, sucked her stomach in and pinched it open. It was when she lifted her hips from the couch and let Alan remove both her panties and skirt that I knew all was lost.

My head snapped up to look Elizabeth in the eye, hoping to see her pleading with me to stop them. But her face was a mix of smouldering hunger and excited nervousness. When our eyes met, she whispered ‘sorry’. Then, seeking my reassurance, she asked me to kiss her.

My heart melted at the situation I believed I had put her in, so I leaned in and placed my lips on hers. Elizabeth kissed me as she had never kissed me before. The lust, passion and intensity of that kiss took my breath away and made me harden.

Her body began to writhe around on the couch, telling me that Alan was now fingering her. The pungent smell of her sex hit my nose, and I heard John inhale and comment, “Fuck she’s humming, mate.”

His comment was directed at Phil, who stood and told John to try some of her milk. Phil then tried to push Alan aside, saying, “I want to fuck her. Move over.”

Alan pulled away but didn’t let Phil between her legs. Instead, he bent and lifted Elizabeth to his chest – no mean feat, as she was taller than him and quite possibly heavier. He turned and laid her on the coffee table. I sat back on the couch, deciding to stay out of it and only watch. John leapt around and put a cushion under her head. That surprised me, playing the gentleman again. He wasn’t behaving at all as I had expected.

Phill and Alan dropped their trousers and looked at one another. An argument about who would go first seemed certain to ensue. But Elizabeth sat up and held up her hand, “Dave first. I might let you, but it has to be Dave first. Or no one at all.”

I really didn’t want to. I couldn’t think of anything worse than making love to Elizabeth with my mates watching. But she gave me a pleading look and motioned me over. Phil and Alan backed off, slumping down on the dining chairs, cocks in hand. John was back sitting on the couch, also with his cock out. Ding was jerking his quite vigorously and looking at me expectantly.

I hesitated. It’s funny what goes through your mind at a moment like this and sticks with you for a lifetime. I took stock of all the cocks, realising I had never seen them all hard before. I’d seen all of them naked plenty of times in the showers after rugby games. But not like this. Ding, I had already noticed, was large. Phil and Alan were average, but John had a small erect dick. Who would have guessed? It dawned on me that that was why he was always giving me shit.

When I looked back at Elizabeth, I saw a flash of disappointment cross her eyes at my hesitation. So I quickly got up and moved between her legs. She opened up and held out her arms, welcoming me. I undid my fly and struggled to get my hard out through the opening. It surprised me that I was hard. It wasn’t as if the situation was at all sexy for me. Yet why would I be surprised, there was her beautiful naked body spread before me. Milk-full tits thrust up, and her cunt lips were wet and flowered open with her excitement.

I gently lay down on top of her and found her lips. We started another deep kiss, and I felt her hand reach between my legs and guide my rigid member home. The same familiar surge went through my body, and I closed my eyes to shut out everyone sitting around us. Elizabeth kept her hand down there, teasing my balls with her fingernails. Usually, when making love to Elizabeth, I had to think of dead possums and angry fathers to stop myself from coming too soon. But this night, I wanted it over quickly, put the others out of my mind, and thought up the most amoral, depraved things I could picture. It took maybe five minutes before I hit the short strokes and climaxed. I could feel her vaginal muscles spasming and squeezing me, but I don’t think she climaxed. If she did, it was not one of the noisy ones she usually had with me. I lay there, not wanting to rise and expose her nakedness to the others.

However, they saw I had finished, and more than one set of hands coaxed me off her. I think Phil took my place, but I won’t go into any detail about the next half an hour. I tried not to watch. I did not find it at all sexy; quite the opposite. It was pretty tacky to see guys trying to outdo one another in fucking, talking dirty and sticking their cocks in her mouth.

I looked at Ding and saw he had not moved from the armchair. He’d jacked himself off, though, and was wiping his cock with Elizabeth’s lacy black knickers. That pissed me off. Why did he need to defile her panties? Why did he not go to the bathroom?

Through it all, Elizabeth didn’t complain once. If anything, she was more into it than the guys. She seemed to be enjoying everything they threw at her. When they had all had at least one go. I think Alan had her twice, and maybe someone else did, too. They slumped back in the chairs, exhausted.

Elizabeth lay there, not bothering to cover up. She beckoned to me to come over. I shook my head, determined I would never touch her again. Silly bugger. But I did look around the room for something to cover her with.

She was nonplussed about her nakedness. She looked over to Ding, “You want to come and give me a cuddle,” she asked him, “I’m getting cold.”

Ding lifted his flaccid member, “Not much use to you, girl.”

“Come over here. I’ll sort that out for you.”

So Ding hauled himself out of the armchair and stood at the foot of the coffee table. Elizabeth sat up and took his prick in her mouth. As she began bobbing her head up and down, Ding dropped his pants and stepped out of them.

Within seconds, he was hardening, and she gagged as it swelled into the back of her throat. She pulled back and looked at it properly for the first time.

“Oh my. Your bigger than Dave, I didn’t think they came any bigger,” and she tried to swallow him whole again.

Ding let her go at him for a minute, then pushed her away. He lifted her and directed her to kneel over the coffee table. He did not get down onto his knees but squatted behind her; legs spread wide like a samurai. And thrust himself all the way home. I took note of the sloppy mess between her legs. She had the seed from four guys oozing from her, and I was glad I’d been first. No way would I have relished sticking my cock in that mess.

Ding leaned forward and started kissing and licking her neck, which brought a wave of excited sounds from her. Her enthusiasm encouraged him to start thrusting into her hard. We could hear how wet she was with each collision of his groin on her bum.  

“Oh man, that’s fucking good…really wet, man. I’m going to fuck you till you explode,” he announced to the room. And then began to pound into her hard.

I had never seen Elizabeth so excited. Watching her writhing body as she banged herself back onto his every thrust. Listening to her heavy moans and gasps had me getting hard again. And I wasn’t the only one; the others all had their cocks in their hands.

“Ohhhh…Ohhhh…” Elizabeth cried out as his hips hammered home. And as she cried out, she was trying to spread her legs wider.

Ding looked like he could go all night, and Elizabeth didn’t appear to be at all concerned about that. But finally, I heard her breathing begin to speed up, and her grunts turned to pleas for him to fuck her harder because she was going to cum.

“Oh… don’t stop,” she cried out. Then, even louder, “I’m coming. Don’t stop for fucks sake.”

She reached her peak, “Yes, don’t fucking stop!” She screamed as her orgasm hit, and her body convulsed.

Ding didn’t slow until she collapsed prone on the coffee table. He withdrew, but instead of walking away, he rolled her onto the floor on her back and climbed aboard again. She struggled to stop him, but once he was slid in tight again, she resignedly relaxed and met his searching lips.

He pulled away from her kiss and held her tight, letting her catch her breath. And with she had come down and was no longer gasping for air, he pushed her hands above her head and, holding them tight, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers again. Elizabeth eagerly accepted him, and they kissed passionately like lovers. As he began ploughing into her hard again, she broke the kiss to cry out more perverse, encouraging comments.

After a dozen strokes, he cried, “Ready for it? It’s my turn to cum now. I’m going to blow your arse to bits.”

“Yesss…” she moaned as they began to move together.

Ding started moving with more purpose, and arousal burned into my loins. I released my aching cock from my pants and held it tight, not daring to move my hand, or I would explode. The other three were all similarly engaged as they took in the spectacle.

Still roughly holding her hands, Ding bent and started kissing and licking her neck before moving to her breasts, which brought a fresh wave of excited sounds from her. He bit on her nipples harder than I had ever dared, and more demanding cries escaped her mouth. He pulled back and spoke again, “Squeeze my dick with your cunt. I’m going to fill you with more cum than you’ve ever had before.”

A shudder and sharp intake of air assailed her body. Then her body began to convulse, and she shouted, “I’m going to come again, too. Wait for me, please.”

I realised I was going to cum, stepped across, and took her wrists from Ding. I pulled them hard above her head, aware that when we fucked she liked me to hold her down like that while I sucked and nibbled her big nipples. She bent her head back and asked, “Give me your cock. I want you to cum when with me.”

So I freed one hand, directed my prick into her mouth, and then returned my attention to her nipples, pinching and rolling the fat nubs between my fingers. Elizabeth turned her head to get more of me, and I began rocking my hips and fucking her mouth.

Milk began to squirt from each nipple I pinched. That did Ding in. He slammed his mouth down and sucked hard, and once his mouth was full, he swallowed and yelled, “Feel good, baby? Are you coming? I can’t hold on much longer.”

Elizabeth didn’t answer but snaked a hand down between the two of them and frantically began frigging herself. Then, as her body began to spasm, she yelled, “Oh, God…yes…God, yes… don’t stop… don’t fucking stop… unnnggghh…”

Her legs kicked up in the air and wrapped around Ding’s hips. He began punching into her so hard I was sure he would cause some damage.

Again she howled,” Yes, don’t fucking stop!” Then she screamed as her orgasm hit, and her body convulsed.

I exploded with her and laughed as I took note of their faces twisted in what looked like absolute agony. The first time I had laughed since the pub.

We all collapsed in a heap on the floor. I looked around and saw the other guys were all looking embarrassed. They had all jerked off and were trying to hide their messy pricks back in their trousers without looking at one another.

I don’t know how the fuck Ding had managed what he had just done. He was not fit. He didn’t play rugby or attend any of our training sessions. He surfed a little but would rather lie on the beach and watch the ladies. He was beetroot red, and I hoped to hell he wasn’t going to have a heart attack.

I was shaken from my thoughts by John’s announcement that he was going home and Phil and Alan’s saying they were leaving, too. I guess they thought Ding and I would spend the night with her.

When they had left, I asked Elizabeth if she was okay.

“Yes.” she replied, “I’ve always wanted to do this. In my wildest dreams, I never expected it to happen or be so good. The idea of being the centre of attention and the naughtiness of it always made me horny.” She gave me a sultry look, lowering her voice and asked me how I had handled it. I lied and said I was okay.

We all showered as we were coated in sweat, separately, my jealousy raising its ugly head again. Elizabeth was not up for any more anyway. She walked upstairs to the shower like a bow-legged cowboy. And Ding and I were both fucked. We made excuses to leave as soon as we were dressed, and Elizabeth didn’t object. She must have sensed it was fruitless to ask me to stay.

I never saw Elizabeth again, something I regretted in the years to come. It was a real shit thing not to go back and visit her and give her support. But I could not face her. I was scared I would take up with her again and face the taunts from the likes of John about fucking an old whore.

I did wonder if any of the others ever snuck around to see her. I was certain Alan and Phil didn’t. It was the only woman I ever knew Alan to stray with. Phil met his wife soon after; I’m sure he has never been unfaithful. Ding, I didn’t know about it, but I asked him months later, and he vehemently denied he ever had. He had a lovely girlfriend, so I believed him. John also denied going near her whenever the boys teased him about sneaking next door.

But three months later, John announced that Elizabeth had moved. He told us the housing corporation had found Elizabeth a new two-bedroom unit in Onehunga. Sometime later, Alan informed me that John had been sneaking over once his mother was asleep and giving her one. And was pissed off that she had moved on. Evidently, she wouldn’t give him her new address.

It pissed me off finding out about that. He was a sneaky bastard. But I had no reason to be upset. I was seeing a lot more of Glenys and thought it was only a matter of time before I nailed her. However, chance would be a fine thing. She held out until the following May. Two years, three months and nine days, the longest I ever waited for a fuck.

—-

Never regret anything that has happened in your life, it cannot be changed, undone or forgotten so take it as a lesson learned and move on. Jennifer Aniston.