Chapter 5
The following day was almost a normal one for the Jilkes Group. Pietro and Marella appeared to have been sated, temporarily, by their assault on me the night before and we all worked together in the fields, bringing in the last of the harvest. Some of the women spent the day canning fruits and vegetables over a huge outdoor fire Ave had built. It was hot work and, by noon, they had stripped naked and it took all our energies to stay in the fields. The men shed their clothing and walked around with tall erections gleaming in the hot autumn sun.
But to no good avail. Pietro watched us like a hawk and wouldn't let us near the women.
The night was unusually warm and a, golden moon sparkled on gleaming buttocks all up and down the Great-house. The women were still naked, favoring their sunburns, and the men lay in the mellow moon-light with their rods in their hands and tears of frustration in their eyes. The women moaned from time to time, partly because of their sunburns, partly because of their own longing desire for the hard cocks that surrounded them on the lonely cots.
I wasn't hurting too badly. I had had my shackles cleaned the night before and hadn't had time to build up a head of sexual steam. But poor old Mike, from Michigan, was up to his neck in the hots and I saw his hand snake down across his stomach and grip the aching rod in his middle. He began to jerk it smoothly up and down and I could see, beyond him, that pretty little Lila, from Kent State, was watching his every move.
Pretty soon, Lila's hand reached across from her cot and moved Mike's hand aside. Mike let out a little squeal of delight as the girl's soft, nimble fingers, took over the duties. She jerked him very hard and, before she had taken a dozen strokes, I saw his pearly spunk leap out from his prick and glisten for a breathless moment in the moonlight.
It was the quickest quickie I had ever seen.
And that was the way it went through autumn. We finished the harvesting in early December and the weather turned cold and we built a fire in the big old pot-bellied stove at my end of the Great-house. Every-body covered up with blankets at night and wore all their clothes during the day. The skin game was over and the best we could hope for was a peek at the girls as they took their evening baths.
Revolution was in the minds and hearts of every member of our little commune. Since that night when Pietro and Marella had ravaged me in their little cottage, there had been no sex for anybody in our group--except the quickie jack-off between Lila and Mike. We were all hornier than snakes and fighting mad. The men took to snarling when the girls went past them. We were like caged lions and I knew something had to break soon or the lot of us--girls and all--would gang up and cut the throats of our uninvited guests.
It was in mid-December that the first break came. Pietro marched into our Great-house about midnight, looked up and down the rows of cots and then bent over Ken's bunk. Ken was from Florida and he didn't care for our nippy mountain weather, so he was bundled up tightly and was fast asleep. He was hard to wake up, but Pietro finally did it by yanking off his covers.
"What the hell?" Ken shouted.
"Come with me," said Pietro. He was a laconic man.
"Up your's," Ken snarled, reaching for his covers again.
Pietro let him have one, right across the neck. Ken gagged and choked and rolled on the floor for a few minutes. The rest 'of us waited, tense, waiting to see what would happen next. I thought Ken would fight him and that would be the signal for the rest of us to jump on the big Sicilian dictator. But Ken didn't fight. When he recovered from the judo chop to his neck, he wrapped a blanket around his naked body and followed Pietro out into the black night.
There was an instant buzzing in the Great-house. Nobody but I knew what was up, so I gathered them all around me and told them the score. They were pleased, in a way, and each guy in the place was wondering when his turn would come.
But I had an idea in mind a dangerous idea.
"Look," I whispered. "They'll be at it for at least an hour, maybe longer. And they'll be in the heat of passion and will be making a bit of noise on their own. This is our chance to have a small-scale orgy, if we keep it reasonably quiet."
They needed no coaxing. Even before my words had died on the cold air of the Great-house, J. C. from Berkeley, was on top of Tonia, our little Yugoslavian exchange student, and had his cock buried deep in her pussy. She was biting his tanned shoulder and I knew she was screaming silently deep in her throat.
We were one hungry bunch.
Quickly but quietly, we all paired off and I drew the buxom little bombshell named Beth, from Columbia. I was going for Sofia, but Toodles, the smiling Texan beat me to her and had his prick buried up her backside by the time I got near.
I lay on Beth's cot and snuggled up to her enormous breasts and took a long, distended nipple between my lips to kiss and suck on it. We were all paired off, but poor hungry June, from Penn State, didn't have anybody to pair off with. Since Ken had been taken off by Pietro, we were a man short. June looked from one couple to another and then I crooked my finger at her and she leaped onto the cot with me and Beth.
"The day comes I can't handle two broadies," I muttered as I clutched them close and kissed their soft thighs, "I'll hang up the old balls for good."
It was delightful. I was on top of them both on the cot and my arms were around their soft buttocks and I was probing their pubic regions with my nose, one girl after the other. I found their wet snatches and pressed my head between their smooth thighs and slid my tongue into one dark pussy. It was Beth's--I could tell by her little shriek of delight. I gammed her for but a few seconds; and then pressed my face and tongue into June's tortured cunt. She almost bellowed and I had to shush her.
We were reversed on the cot--my head down at their groins and my own groin pressed into one of their faces. I could feel hands all over me and then a soft mouth closed over the swollen head of my dick and a tongue began to massage it hotly. A small feminine hand slipped between my buttocks and I felt a warm finger toy with my anus and I felt a surge of passion ripple through my body and I thought I was already coming into the mouth that gripped my cock. But I wasn't coming yet--it only felt like it.
All around us were the grunts and cries and slaps of a muted orgy. Beside us on the left, Allan, from Tennessee, was doing a conventional fuck job on Allison, from Western Kentucky. On our right, Wayne, from Purdue, was in a glorious sixty-nine position with Suzanne, from Dennison. But I had no time to watch their frolics--I was busy.
Four tiny hands were smoothing over my buttocks and balls and exposed prick. One small finger was probing the interior of my anus. My cock was being shifted from one small mouth to another and both June and Beth were trying to outdo the other by seeing who could put more of my cock into her mouth. I, in my turn, was having a little contest with myself, seeing which pussy I could probe the deepest with my tongue. I felt the crisp, curly pubic hairs on my lips and nose, even between my teeth, as I gammed harder and harder on the girls. I spread their pussies with my fingers and dabbled my tongue on their most sensitive parts, seeking out the clitoris, laving the vulva, slipping deeper and deeper into the vaginal walls to suck up the oozing fluids that lined each cunt. While I sucked one pussy, I kept my fingers busy in the next. Both girls were bucking on the cot, raising their buttocks up to meet my assaults.
And then a delightful thing happened. Both mouths came at my cock at the same time and there was a brief battle down there before one finally pushed the other out of the way and plunged my cock deep, almost to the throat. The losing mouth, as compensation, slid down my cockshaft and sucked my balls between the lips. And there I was, my cock in one girl's mouth, my balls in another's. I couldn't remember ever having that happen to me, but I made a mental note to make certain it happened again--often.
A series of gigantic throbs racked my body as the girls worked on me that way. They resembled a tremendous orgasm, but I didn't climax. My whole body quivered with the throbbing earthquake inside me and my own efforts to create earthquakes inside the girls increased. I probed deeper and deeper into their cunts with my "tongue and I worked my, buttocks up and down to elicit the greatest possible value from the double sucking they were giving me.
I thought of all the months we had lived together in this commune, and we had lived almost piously. Sure, we had been pretty horny and we had done a lot of screwing, but it had been a quiet, normal kind of life. We had changed partners from time to time, but we had never gone tandem and we had never had a general kind of orgy. There was one thing to thank Pietro for--he had broken down the stupid barriers that had kept us from truly enjoying sex.
We were truly enjoying it that night.
All up and down the Great-house couples were rollicking on their cots without the slightest concern for what was going on next to them. The fire blazed hotly in the big pot-bellied stove, but it was still no match for the heat of passion in that long room.
"Suck it harder, my lovelies," I cried after raising my head from their hot and oozing snatches. "Suck it clear off, you beautiful cock-suckers. Bite it off, if you have to."
"We're biting, we're biting," one of the girls said, releasing her hold on my testicles. I think it was Beth, but her voice was muffled, so I couldn't be sure.
And they were biting.
Hard teeth clenched the tender skin of my privates and I knew I would walk around for days with teeth marks around the shaft of my cock and on my testicle bag. It didn't matter. What mattered was that the lips and tongue and teeth of two lovely girls were operating on my privates, and it was a major operation.
I felt the big throb again and this time it wasn't a false alarm.
I was coming.
I felt the powerful spurts begin from my groins and then I knew I was shooting a jet of liquid into a dark mouth. I heard a grunt of delight, and then the mouth left my spurting cock. I was afraid all that good juice would be lost on the dark night, but another mouth dosed over my cockhead and sucked the remaining spurts from it.
Jesus, they both got in on the act!
I hadn't realized it was possible for that to happen--for two women to switch places while a man was coming--but it happened. And they didn't lose a single drop. They caught it with perfect timing, between spurts, and nothing was lost on the dark night air.
Then, like firecrackers tied together, they both came under my mouth and finger assault on their snatches. I felt Beth coming first and I cupped my lips over her cuntlips and caught the faint warm spray. I was preparing to dip my tongue into the convulsing cunt when I felt June buck under my fingers and I quickly slipped my mouth over her gaping pussy to catch her orgasm.
My timing also was perfect.
The orgy was a quick one after all. In ten minutes, the room was quiet and there were some light snores from various points in the dark. We were all exhausted.
We had Thanksgiving late that year. The crops hadn't been harvested in late November--the time of the traditional Thanksgiving--so we worked hard and finished up by the middle of December.
"I have a great idea," I said, as Ken and Toodles and Mark and I brought in the last basket of apples. "Let's have a feast tonight and celebrate Thanksgiving"
They recognized the wicked twinkle in my eyes and knew what I really had in mind as a feast. I didn't want turkey and dressing and all that jazz--I wanted a feast of cunt. And I hoped a little celebration would put old Pietro in the proper frame of mind to let it all hang out.
"We still have plenty of wine left over from last year," I reminded them. "After a few snorts of wine, we should all be in the proper mood."
The wine was more than just homemade wine. Dan, from Boston College, was a biology major and he had put in some special herbs which served as a kind of aphrodisiac. And we had made the wine extra strong--it was almost forty proof.
"It's worth a try," Mark said. "I'll spread the word among the girls. You talk to big Pietro."
I saw Pietro in the afternoon. He was sitting on a bamboo mat in front of his small stove in the little cottage and he was obviously practicing his Yoga. He had his legs crossed and his back was ramrod straight. He was naked except for a towel wrapped around his privates, and his eyes were open and glazed. Marella was sleeping on another mat in the corner. She was naked to the waist and, even though she was lying on her back, her huge breasts were high and upright, the nipples distended like soft little fingers.
I waited twenty minutes just inside the door until the big Sicilian came out of his trance and noticed me.
"What do you want?" he growled.
"The group wants to celebrate a good harvest tonight," I said succinctly. "We want to have a little party, with wine and food, the works. We'd like you and Marella to come."
"What time?"
He surprised hell out of me. I thought he would growl and put the quietus on the plan. But he casually asked what time. Miracles would never stop.
"Wine time will be at six. We'll eat at eight or eight thirty."
"We'll come," he said.
There was cheering in the Great-house when I made the announcement. It had been a week since our little impromptu orgy and everybody was hungry for sex. Oh, there had been a few incidents of hanky-panky from time to time and little Lila, from Kent State, had whacked off old J. C. a couple of times without leaving her cot, but there had been no repeat of the reasonably quiet orgy. There had been no re-peat of the episodes in Pietro's cottage either. Matters had been exceptionally quit.
The girls outdid themselves in decorating the Great house and themselves. They strung colored streamers over the walls and across the room. They cooked up two turkeys, seven pheasants, four rabbits, a bushel of potatoes, a peck of corn, three quarts of cranberries and a five-gallon can of rice pudding. They made a dozen apple pies and a half dozen cherry and two dozen peach. They made a delectable punch from wine and grapefruit juice and sneaky little Jimmy, from Oberline College, dumped in two quarts of vodka he had hidden under his foot locker. It was a concoction that would raise hair.
Every guy in the commune walked around with a secret hard-on that afternoon, biding his time until the drinking and eating part of the feast were over. We all stayed clear of the girls, though, because Pietro came to the window of the little house every once in a while and looked out. We didn't want to do anything to offend him and blow the whole party.
Six o'clock was a damnable time coming. But it came and Pietro brought Marella out of the little house right on the stroke of the hour. Very punctual.
The big Amazon was a sight to behold. She had put on a long kimono and the way she moved it was obvious that she had nothing on beneath it. Her huge breasts moved sensuously under the yards of bright flowered material and her buttocks were a study in sexual rioting. They stood beside the roaring fire for a few minutes and then entered the Great-house. A few of our girls stayed outdoors to keep basting the turkeys and pheasants and rabbits turning on spits over the fire; the rest of us went inside the Greathouse to commence the drinking.
The wine-herb-vodka-grapefruit juice punch was in a huge wooden barrel in the center of the floor. We had slid the cots back alongside the wall to make room for dancing, and the record player was belting out music from Woodstock. Pretty little Lila filled two homemade wooden goblets for Pietro and Marella and the two took the first symbolic drink.
"Very good," Marella said. "I'll have another." Everybody was smiling because we knew what the concoction would do to the big sensuous woman and Ken, standing behind me, said "gotcha," under his breath. Three guys shushed him, but we all felt the same way. It was a gotcha moment.
Pietro surprised us all. He was not his usual gruff self and he treated Marella as though she were a queen from the South Pacific. He kept filling her goblet and he kept drinking his own empty. He smiled and chatted like the company president at a company picnic, and his eyes beamed happily every time he looked at Marella. It was obvious that he loved that girl deeply and his love made him tender.
He was a confusing man.
The drinking went on for an hour and it was quiet. Some couples danced, but nobody got frisky, not yet. When a slow song came on the record player, Pietro put down his goblet and, in an old-fashioned gesture which made a few of us snigger, he held out his hands to Marella, inviting her to dance.
They were good. They were extremely light on their feet for such big people and they danced around the Great-house with such grace and charm that all of us felt a strange and close kinship to them. They danced from the door all the way back to the huge table set up beside the pot-bellied stove and festooned with colorful streamers.
When they finished, we all applauded and both of them blushed. It was really weird.
I waited for the proper time to begin the planned orgy, and hoped it., would come during the cocktail hour, but it didn't. Pietro and Marella, setting the pace for demeanor, were perfectly charming and proper, so we all took our cue from them. And then the girls came in with the food and we all gathered around the big table to eat.
Pietro stood at the head of the table, nearest the stove, with Marella at his left. He bowed his head and we bowed' our heads. I don't know if he prayed, but we all stood there silently for a full minute and then Pietro looked around and said: "Eat! Eat. Enjoy."
I sat between Sofia and Lila and I enjoyed. I enjoyed the wine and the food and an occasional caress under the table. The meal was good and, when it was finished, part of the glow of drinking was gone. We polished off the pies and Pietro stood up and raised his wooden goblet.
"Good party," he said. "Good meal, good celebration. Good Thanksgiving. Now, I suppose you expect me to let down the rules and everybody can have an orgy. Is that what you expect?"
We all shuffled on the benches and I looked him square in the eyes.
"What would it hurt?"
Pietro looked hard at me, for a long time. Then he grinned and then he smiled and then he laughed.
"Hurt nothing and nobody," he roared. "Let's have the orgy."
Poor old J. C. was so excited he came right away in Lila's hand, under the table.
We got a great laugh out of that.