Curt, for his part, disagreed with Gayle’s critique of her oral abilities, not that either of them realized it. He found her licking and sucking to be exciting, and after some minutes of the exercise, he realized his prick was twitching, and he admitted, “I’m close.” Gayle immediately ceased the agitation, leaving him in a state of temporary frustration.
“Your turn,” she said to Tom, and when he laid down she mimicked the actions she had so recently performed on the other man. She enjoyed the contrast, the feel of his prick in her mouth was subtly different, the taste of his liquid somewhat sweeter. She worked on him in earnest, trying her best to get him to lose control.
Curt just laid on the bed for awhile, resting and enjoying the surprisingly erotic sight of this half naked woman sucking on his best friend. Like Tom, he felt her breasts with one hand, diddling the nipples and drawing them to attention. He then attempted a foray into enemy territory, moving his right hand up the calf, over the bended back of the knee, up the thigh, and to the edge of the g-string.
Surprisingly, Gayle, even though she was aware of the incursion, didn’t say a word or move her bottom to suggest a cessation. And so, having a great view of the cleft through the netting, Curt moved his finger to the edge of the hole then plunged into her. Gayle had been waiting for just that moment since she first considered the possibilities in the bar, and gave a large gasp at the movement. It wasn’t an orgasm, technically, but the stage was definitively set.
While all this was going on Tom was reclining, appreciating the ministrations of the woman in a somewhat detached sense. When he was in the mood, he could disgorge into a girl’s mouth in a very short time, but he often realized he would need both his sperm and hardness for the more important endeavor and had learned to control himself. So while Gayle worked on him, he went over the probable teams in the upcoming NCAA tournament, fixing them into brackets, keeping himself from excitement that would be overbearing. At the same time, he let his hand wander over her hair, ears and cheek, so she might have some pleasure from the act. For five minutes or more, Gayle attempted every trick she knew, but the cock in her mouth jumped not, no liquid filled her mouth. She surrendered, sat up and wrote on the paper: ‘Blow job: T 2, C 1. C -1 for disobeying rule.’
Gayle had been around enough to realize some men really didn’t like to eat pussy, and was almost sure Tom was one of those. So she decided instead of demanding cunilingus, she’d give them the option to do it or not. She looked at the boys. “Now, it’s the Surprise Event. Each of you can do anything you want to me, or get me to do anything to you. The object is to get me off, if you can. The only thing is, don’t put it in me yet. Okay? Tom, you go first.”
Tom thought, then stood. Gayle enjoyed the way his prick stood out from his pelvis, rising up, then bending so the tip was almost touching his belly. She wondered what it would be like when it was rammed inside of her. Tom ordered, “Take the panties off and sit on the couch.”
She drew the lingerie over her knees, almost giggling at the boys rapt attention as she exposed her mid section, the landing strip of hair dipping between the flare of her labia, the crack beginning between her legs and wandering north, the small, shiny button peeking toward her admirers. She kept her thighs tightly together for a moment, then spread slowly, allowing her voyeurs to spy the folds of her flesh, the moist pinkness of their desire. Tom knelt between her feet, his cock pointing directly at her openin but she didn’t object, for first of all it would eventually be in her anyway, and secondly, if he did put it in now he’d get one hell of a penalty. Tom began kissing her, hard again, and with one hand guided the rod so it brushed between the vaginal lips, but never quite crept inside the opening. “You want it, don’t you?”
“Not right now.”
“But you want it, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you’re not gonna get it, yet.” And as he rolled to his side, a finger of his hand parted the folds and delved into the darkness. His lips went to a nipple, and now he was poking his digit in and out, in and out. When his fingertip grazed the fleshy spot on the roof, a spark hit Gayle’s body, and she tensed. “You like this!” Tom demanded.
“Yes,” she hoarsely whispered. He continued, sometimes hitting the g-spot, often missing it. Even though he wasn’t quite focusing on the point, he was close enough, and her body shuddered. It was just a petite orgasm, lasting only a couple of seconds, and Tom seemed to realize what had happened. Unfortunately, consigning the g-spot in the same category as hobbits, he concluded it must be the finger and so he began to delve deeper and deeper, harder and harder, then he used a second finger and a third. Gayle felt her cavity being filled, not really enjoying it, and when it seemed he was about to put the whole fist in, she pushed him back with a cry of “Enough.”
“How’d I do?” he asked, and Gayle replied, trying not to hurt his feelings, “It was okay.”
Curt had been sitting on the sofa, watching them and stroking his rod from time to time. Now it was his turn, and he motioned Gayle to come to him. She put her chest upon his, their lips met, and she felt his hard-on grazing her belly. One hand went to a breast, cupping it, teasing the aureole, gently twisting a nipple, and the other was at her ass, pulling her into him. This foreplay went on for a couple of minutes, then Curt twisted her around, until now she was seated, her legs spread, he kneeling, facing her. Once again, she was concerned she would be penetrated, but Curt crept down her body, first licking her earlobes and collarbone, then both nipples, then the navel, and then his mouth was between her legs. He licked at the smooth skin of the labellum, dipped his tongue into the moisture, then rose until the clit was inside his mouth and sucked. Gayle truly enjoyed this attention, and felt she was starting to come when he suddenly halted, went back to the canyon, where he was somewhat ineffectual. Again he sucked on the clit, again she approached release, again he went on to the other area. A third time he sucked, she was that close, and when he seemed to give up again, she cried, “Keep sucking,” and he obeyed, and Gayle suddenly felt the blessed pulsing of a medium sized orgasm. This one lasted ten seconds or so, her nipples grew even harder, her toes curled, her breaths came in short, sharp spurts.
“Did you come?” Curt asked, a little surprised.
“I sure did, darling. Thank you!”
And now, she decided, it was time for the final event. She wrote on the paper, ‘Surprise Event, Tom:1, Curt 2’, moved back to the bed and then thought about who should go first. She considered these men had probably never had sloppy seconds, and didn’t want to put one of them off by forcing him into it. She decided to solve the predicament quietly. “Curt, would you mind if Tom screws me first?” She could see a little disappointment wash over his face, but he recovered nicely, and nodded agreement. Tom swiftly approached her crying, “Babe, you’re gonna get it good!” He had her lie on the bed, and in no time at all was above her and between her legs, his tool at her fissure and then, with one good push, he was within her. She pulled his head down and whispered in his ear, “Don’t come, you can have me again after Curt. If you have to come, do it on my belly.”
Like all the rest of his lovemaking, Tom thought of himself as a piston. The strokes were deep, and fast, and, frankly, monotonous. Gayle tried her best to provide some variation, moving her hips, pushing her pelvis up with her heels. Still Tom pounded, swift and downward, and it was only when she maneuvered her calves up to his shoulders and his cock was nearly vertically dipping into her that she felt any effective stimulation. She tensed her vaginal muscles, and then felt another tiny come. It was then that Tom shockingly withdrew and she felt his warm wetness on her stomach, and surrounded his prick with her palm, stroking it, milking it. When he collapsed beside her, he complimented, “Babe, you are one great fuck!” It was too bad, she felt, that she couldn’t return the compliment.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she told the boys, and strolled into the bathroom where she soaped her twat with a wet washrag, dried it off, then returned to the bedroom. Tom was still stretched on the bed, he might fall asleep, and Curt was watching expectantly from the sofa. She sat beside him, took his cock into her hand, and moaned, “Whatever you want, baby.” He bent to her, kissed her, and then pulled her until she was above his lap, his rod pointing to her opening, and he pulled her down, slowly, gently, and she could feel this tool gradually fill her. She descended onto it and began to grind on him lazily. She concentrated on herself, knowing the youth would find his own pleasure, and somewhere in the act she brought herself off, a big one this time, flashes of light even appeared inside her eyelids. She knew she was moaning loudly, and let it go on and on.
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