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Somewhere deep inside a dam crumbles beneath the weight of my hope, and with trembling fingers and nervous feet I step carefully towards the door in search of newfound devotion.I step out of the bedroom; naked, flushed, dirty, flesh clammy, dried sweat coating my skin, tiny flecks of vomit unnoticed on my lips, hair untended and quite disastrous, pussy throbbing, juices slick down my thighs, eyes unnaturally bright, nipples fierce stiff nubs atop my heaving breasts; and head off in search of my hostess.She is on her throne; door flung wide, thighs splayed, dress hoisted up around her waist, cotton panties resting like a discarded hula-hoop about one ankle. I peer from around the door frame at her; lovely Clara, delicious Clara, my friend, my lover, my future: as I hide my flushed and needy body from her sight.“Hi … thank you … I’m sorry … really I am … I hope …” I know she is replying but I am unhearing. I can see her lips moving but I am consumed with the need to stutter my apology. She felt the head of a penis pressed against her lips and opened her mouth like an eager, wanton slut. The man attached to the cock straddled her face and shoved himself into her throat. She gagged a little but did her best to take it all. Her body was soon manipulated so that her legs were in the air, and another dick was entering her tight wet pussy. Her hands were kept busy stroking the other two men. "They used her like this, again and again, trading places until they had all been inside her. Then they stood over her and jerked their cocks until they came, one after the other, coating her ample breasts, stomach, and face with their sticky ropes of cum. She looked like a well-used whore and had no idea, with her blindfold still in place, that they’d drawn quite an audience.”Meg rubbed Henry’s erection through his pants, “Oh, my God, Henry! I need you to fuck me right now!”“Are you sure?” he asked, grinning.“Yes, please, now!” she begged.She stripped off her clothes, but there was.
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Well, the wife was pretty nice, but we rarely saw her. Her husband, Darnell, we saw a bit too often. He was a strange guy. He was in his early 50s and had been in the Army. He was about 6'4, muscular but lean and still in pretty good shape. He was often out in his backyard, which was separated from ours along that stretch with a 6' wood privacy fence. The back part of our fence was only 4' tall. That's relevant in that he often appeared at it whenever my wife was laying out working on her tan. The best spot in the yard for unblocked sun was near the fence, and he seemed to never miss an opportunity to say hi to her when she barely had anything on.In college, we'd broken up for a bit for some of the usual reasons, but also because of my insecurities. Denise never gave me a reason to be suspicious - it was just my jealousy issues. When we were apart, of course I'd often masturbate thinking about her. Ironically, I'd picture her fucking or sucking off random dudes that had picked her.

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