Chapter 11
Ross lay back and watched, goggling.
It was tremendously, violently exciting to watch and listen while Hank's avid mouth sucked his spermy liquor out of Beejo's cunt. And to feel and hear Beejo, cleaning up his semen-smeared prick, that had been in her ass and in both hers and Hank's vaginas. She sucked it clean and sinning while Hank did her cunt the same service.
Then they both grinned at him, with wet, glistening mouths.
He felt a lurching sensation deep in his belly when Hank ran her tongue out to lick her lips languidly, lasciviously, like a milk-stuffed cat licking its little mouth in deep satisfaction after slurping the bowl clean.
Both women were on their hands and knees, facing him. Each had one leg kneeling between his open thighs. Their red-tipped tits hung down jiggling and rippling. Hank twisted her neck to look at Beejo.
"Ummm," she said, licking her lips again and swallowing. "Do you like the taste of semen?"
Grinning, Beejo nodded.
Hank hugged her. "You must try it the way I just did sometime! Getting it second-hand is sort of a shame ... but it's so lovely, sucking his sperm out of your cunt!"
"God," Ross said, sliding easily down in the bed until he had to stop; their knees were pressed against his balls.
They flopped down on and beside him and the three of them slept awhile in delighted satiation.
When Ross awoke, a couple of hours had passed. Yet they had begun so early, immediately after eating, that it was only a little after ten thirty. He rolled his head leftward to see Hank, lying flat on her stomach with her hands tucked under and her bottom looking just humpy and beautiful in relaxation. Smiling, he turned his head the other way. Beejo had turned over on her side, in her sleep, and lay slightly cupped, with her bottom against his leg.
Moving slowly and carefully, he got up without waking them. He pissed, drank half a glass of water, and poured some wine. Standing there smiling down at their utterly relaxed bodies, he sipped.
Beejo stirred, turned, presented him a brief soul-stirring view of flopping tits with fiery red nipples and parted thighs with a cunt the same color. Then she turned over against Hank. Hank groaned, wiggled, and flopped onto her back. Beejo meanwhile had twisted back and settled down. Now both of them slept on their backs, side by side.
Ross stood there and smiled fondly down at them. He studied them, the extravagantly made brown body with its rounded belly and full hips and large fleshy thighs and large floppy tits. They stirred and shook gently with her sleepful breathing. Her legs were slightly parted, displaying her glossy black bush. Beside her stretched a girl of about the same age, but contrasting pleasantly. Her bush was red as her dark, ruddy-flaming hair. Her breasts were long pear-like ovals whose red-painted tips lay well apart on her chest. She was delightfully pink, all over, and nowhere as fully built as her roommate.
Both of them were crazy about sex, and had been built for it by a loving maker, and sex was where it was at, what the world was about Yet ... neither could compare with the tight supple firmness of Kathy's slim, almost milk-colored body. And the tendrilly moss that left her sweet pussy almost naked....
He jerked his head violently. Damn it! Kathy Kathy Kathy! Stop it, Ross! Who the hell could want more than these two women, spread out so delectably for his own pleasure and theirs?
Determinedly, he tossed back the rest of the wine and set the glass down. Then he slipped onto the bed and pressured them gently until they made room, precariously, between them. He knelt there, with his thighs pressing thighs on either side. They felt almost hot with the heightened warmth of sleeping bodies, bodies working silently and assiduously to repair and rejuvenate while their brains slumbered.
He laid a hand on each firm pussy bulge. Both women stirred slightly at the touch that, to their sleep-warmed vulvae, was slightly chill. After waiting a moment, he began to stroke.
When they awoke, blinking and sighing,, he knelt between them with a hand on the cunt of each and his thumbs slipping in and out of the juicy holes. He grinned at their murky, sleep-filled eyes as they came open to a slow awareness that he was thumb-pumping them, together.
"Umm," Hank sighed, "what a lovely way to wake up!"
"Oh, you beautiful man!" Beejo said, rather more exuberantly. . '
"Just be still, darlings," he said quietly. He pumped.
His thumbs slid in and out of increasingly wet gashes that became increasingly wider, changing from crevices to crevasses. They sighed and squirmed, trying to do his bidding and be still, but stirred too much to remain motionless.
"Don't move a muscle, Beejo," he said, and stretched out to slip his not-quite-erect cock into Hank's welcoming cunt. He hardened quickly inside. She moaned and tried to grab at him when he pulled out. Moving swiftly over a big tan thigh, he imbedded himself just as easily and gently up Beejo's cuntal gap Then he left her-reluctantly-and again knelt between them with his buttocks on his heels. Again he slipped his thumbs into their warmly embracing slits. He began sliding them in and out.
As though someone had given a signal, they looked at each other, both of them lying flat on their backs and turning their heads inward. They smiled.
"Isn't he lovely?"
"He's a darling."
"What shall we do with him?"
"Chain him to the bed. Fuck him until his prick shrivels up and drops off."
"What use would he be without a cock?"
Beejo chuckled. "None whatever. We'd have to go and catch ourselves another one." She turned her head to smile up at Ross.
But he had decided, in that moment he'd never felt so like a complete sex object in his life. It was mildly pleasant, but ugly, too. Nothing like as marvelous as he might have thought. In that moment he became a complete sympathizer with Femlib. He'd pay little attention to screamers and the shriekers and the Lesbians who certainly weren't equipped or qualified to tell female women how to think or behave. But he'd just been made to feel more a thing than a person, and he knew he'd always be aware, too, that many of the females he saw or talked with had become egregiously accustomed to that feeling.
A man sees a body, not a person, he mused, and he thinks with his balls. He thinks of conquest, and of relieving the pressure in those balls: using the body he sees. I ought to know-I've been male all my life, and I've had itchy balls ever since I was about thirteen. At least that's about when I started to know what the sensation was.
And these two think with their cunts. They see me as a body! A male body who knows how to do it, with a little imagination.
Jesus!
Abruptly he realized how he could gratify both his own sudden aggressions and their sexuality-at least Hank's!
He let his thumbs slither out of their clasping bodies.
"Turn over."
"Hm?"
"All the way?"
He nodded. "Turn over on your stomachs."
They turned over, wondering, tightening up their rumps automatically. He gazed down at them, swinging his head back and forth from one to the other.
His eyes positively gloated over the two sets of twinned, evenly proportioned hills pouting sexily up at him. Hank's dimpled, round, pale white and fleshy, the deep thin crack splitting her ass into two well defined halves. And Beejo's opulent tail, which his left hand was stroking as his right slid over Hank's. The coppery woman's bouncy-looking butt halves were deeply and rather widely divided ovals of beautiful tawny tan.
Suddenly his right hand snapped up and rushed down to give Hank a resounding crack across the rump.
"I-I-I-yeep! Oh, ohh...." She jerked and the mattress rebounded her, snapping her shapely round ass into the air.
With his other hand he slapped Beejo's left buttock, then in a swift follow-up, her right.
"Oww! Hey! I don't groove behind that like Hank!"
"Sh'up," he snapped, palming her left cheek again in another swift smack. His right hand, meanwhile, landed a series of hard cracking slaps onto the more receptive ass cheeks of the white woman. She made squeaky sighing sounds and her body bounced with each blow.
He kept striking it, slapping Beejo's rather less hard, left-handed. Hank whined and moaned plaintively. His splay-fingered slaps soon brought a rosy blush to her writhing rump. Her hand came back to rub her smarting bottom; he slapped her palm. She jerked it away and he slapped the cupping lower contours of both cheeks hard, catching them both with his hand landing right across the base of the crack. She lunged slightly forward with the impact.
Beejo suddenly rolled onto her side, facing him.
She didn't want any more of that sort of attention to her big fleshy backside, which she put a hand back to caress. For a moment she looked angrily and accusingly at him. Then she glanced at the other girl, whose body was bobbing up and down. Hank began to squeal and plead, as Ross swung partway around and started giving her a flurrying hailstorm of palm-swats, with both hands.
Beejo smiled and nodded. Turning her face up to Ross's, she gave him a wicked little grin. Again she nodded encouragingly.
"Beat the pants off her, loverman!"
"Shes ... uh ... not ... ah ... wearing any," he grunted, landing another sizzling slap between each word
"Blister 'em good, then. Shell love you forever!"
"Don't-" SMACK! "-want her-" CRACK! "-to love-" WHAP! "-me-" CRACK! "-forever!" Smack-crack-slip-smack-plop-WHAT!"
Beejo heard that with a little frown and a curious expression.
It was doubtful that Hank even heard the strange reply. She was all amove, with a spasmodic twitching throughout her voluptuously aroused body. Her bare and well-whipped tail throbbed like the very fires of hell. She threshed and squirmed, desperately clenching her buttocks together and trying to lessen the force of his raining swats.
As for Ross, he soared in the satisfying joy of subjecting her to pain and humiliation by beating her butt until she pleaded for mercy. She'd wanted a hard spanking from a man's hand for a long time; she'd said so. He was delighted to oblige. He couldn't remember having obliged a woman with such delighted fervor.
He didn't cease his steady smacking of her ass until he was panting and his arms were exhausted and his hands smarting and he had spread a red glow throughout the swollen halves of her feverishly inflamed bottom.
Then he grasped her with both hands and flipped her over onto her back. Even though the bed was sheeted with black satin, she gasped at the contact of her well-slapped butt's naked tingling flesh with the sheet. Then she gasped again: her cunt was a writhing, oozing morass of arousal and his violently erect prick pierced it and was lost up inside it with the ease of pushing a knife into hot pudding.
"Un ... unnnnnghh!"
She hoisted her legs completely free of the bed in an attempt to grip his flailing body. He was stroking hard, fast and deep. With every hard thrust he could feel the sluicing lake of her cunt, and yet he felt, too, the firmly vibrant inner muscles that grabbed his pistoning sex pole and tried to clench around it.
The tensing of her firm, strong thighs cramped and held him. Suddenly dropping himself full upon her to smash her tits, he slapped her legs from him with a swift outward swing of both arms. She grunted and lay there groaning and squirming, her eyes bright with a fever of lust while she absolutely grooved on the marvelously masochistic sensation of being violently fucked, as if she were pinned beneath a berserk rapist.
She emitted a little moaning, gurgling sound and raised her body to help him as his fingers went under her and spread her whip-sensitized buttocks apart, farther and farther, to get at the delicate hole between them.
Then she grunted, as his finger slid in.
He rammed his body down onto her, forcing the finger deep up her tender asshole. His deep-sunk digit tightened the walls of the hot hole, crushed them down onto the tender membranes of her cunt. It forced the grip around his cunt-spearing cock to become even harder and more demanding.
She gasped and quivered uncontrollably, pierced in anus and cunt simultaneously by delving, rooting stiffness.
Her swollen nipples kissed his chest and slithered in their own sweat.
He pounded up and down on her. Finger and prick juiced deeply in and out of the close-set holes he impaled. With each movement, his pulsating pokers delved deeply and tightly into tight-pressed tunnels of hot wet lust.
Her surging screams of delight were almost agonized as she started coming. Her body quivered and lurched and her butt, its swollen pain forgotten, switched over the sheet. She was rocked in a sudden frenzied maelstrom of orgasmic tremors and hot conractions.
"You did it again!" Beejo giggled happily. "You made her come!"
"You made me come!" Hank squealed.
He rammed himself in and out as if striving to smash down the inner muscles that pulsed and contracted in her climactic tremors. She grunted and felt the weight of his body smacking hers. She cried out when he jerked his finger out of her hot and sweaty anus.
"You ... made me ... come too, baby!" he gasped, and whipped his cock out of her oozing, slimy slit.
An arching golden-white streak of sperm shot up her body to smack precisely between her breasts. The next hot spurt splashed down just above her navel and instantly began trickling warmly into its cavity. The third orgasmic jet dropped onto her writhing belly below her navel.
The rest of his ejaculation creamed into the already sweat-matted thicket of her red pubic hair.
"Ch, oh ... you came on me ... you wasted ... I wanted it in me!"
"You got it on you, luv!" he said, dragging himself off the bed and onto his feet despite the ennui of after climax. Not bothering with the semen that still seeped in a long drip out of his dangling cock, he went over and started putting on his pants.
He heard the greedy slurping sounds as Beejo started sucking his semen from Hank's sweaty body.
He buttoned his shirt.
He was at the door when first Hank, then Beejo cried out. They'd been too wrapped up in each other to notice his hurried dressing.
"Ross! Where are you going?"
To bed."
"Bed! There's room ... stay in this one, loverman!"
"Come back, baby! We'll sleep, and you can make me come again!"
"Make you...." Beejo broke off. "It's my turn next, friend!"
"Hell," Hank snapped, "you can come in a second. Ross!"
He had the door open and was starting to slip out "Ross! What's the matter?"
He glanced back. "You've got each other," he said I'm tired of being just another male sex object."
And he went down to his own room and, despite being tired, had a beer before he crawled in. He drank it slowly, thinking. The thinking didn't stop once he was in bed, and he wasn't asleep nearly as soon as a man who'd come twice should have been.