Chapter 8

Connie woke Up the next morning in Bev's bed. On her left was a large black man with his arm draped across her narrow waist. On her right was her good friend Bev, whose hand was between Connie's legs. Everyone was as naked as a jaybird.

My god! she thought. What happened last night? Why aren't I in my own bed? Who is this black man? Why don't I have any clothes on? Where's Herschel?

She sat up in bed and quickly attempted to cover herself with the sheet. It was then that she noticed the smudged lipstick on her breasts and evidence of teeth marks on her abdomen. There was even some writing done on each of her breasts. On the left one was written the name "Bev," and on the right, the word "Jack."

"What the hell!" she softly whispered.

She felt her breasts and they felt tender. But they weren't the only parts of her anatomy. Her vagina felt as if a rolling pin had been shoved up it.

She lifted Bev's hand from her Mound of Venus and felt the little hillock of love. She carefully felt between her thighs to see if there were any signs of blood. Thank goodness, there wasn't.

She sat in utter dread for a minute or two. But slowly, she began to recall the images from the night before: the black penis in her pussy; Bev's mouth on her breasts; Bev's tongue in her vagina; her own tongue in Bev's vagina; everybody's tongue everywhere; Jack's penis everywhere.

She blushed deeply. My gosh! She had actually participated in an orgy! She reached underneath her buttocks and felt her ass-hole. Incredible! Even it was sore! She had actually done it! She had lost her anal virginity!

She looked down at the faces beside her and saw that each wore a smile. Both Bev and the black man were as happy as little kittens. And then, a smile began to appear on her own face.

Now she remembered fully. For the first time in her life she had been royally fucked! The big twelve inch dick wasn't a fantasy after all. It was real and it belonged to the man beside her.

Carefully, she leaned over and looked. Yes! There it was. Every woman's ultimate wish: a black cock the size of a Polish sausage and testicles the size of oranges. She had actually taken that monster into her-over and over again. In a dozen different ways, without shame and without guilt.

Wow!

And beside her was cute little Bev. Connie lifted the covers and looked at the petite body. She licked her lips at the sight of it. She remembered sampling this lovely body-sexually-over and over. In a dozen different ways, without shame and without guilt.

Wow again!

Suddenly she felt totally exhilarated. She looked from the male to the female, and from the female to the male. Two lovely specimens of scintillating sexuality. She had finally, at long last, experienced all the joys of sex. She had broken her marriage vows, but who the fuck retained them in this day and age anyway? Everybody was fucking around-regardless of the AIDS scare. Thankfully, she had lucked into wild sex that was safe. Just like the sixties! Just like the Sexual Revolution.

Wow! Wow! Wow!

She was already feeling randy, and her partners weren't even awake. Well, she knew how to fix that.

Without a second's delay she reached down and began playing with Bev's pussy. It felt so soft and yielding to her touch. She extended her fingers and trailed them lightly along the vaginal lips.

Bev began to sigh in her sleep.

Connie extended her index finger and gently rubbed it over her friend's clitoris. Twenty-four hours beforehand she would have never done this, but in the past day she had broken down the barriers. She spread the outer lips apart and peeked at the little nubbin. It looked so cute just sitting there, waiting for action. Well, she would see to it that it wouldn't have to wait long. She had learned that little delicacy was a mouth-watering appetizer.

Bev yawned, spread her legs slightly, and sighed again.

Connie lowered her lips to the brunette pussy and softly blew on it. She watched the pubic hair blow in the breeze that she had created. She put her nose in the brunette thicket and wiggled it back and forth. She inhaled.

Ahhh! She loved the musky aroma. She stuck out her tongue and licked.

Mmmmmm! She loved the taste as well. She suddenly worried that she was part lesbian. After a moment's reflective thought she realized that was impossible.

She loved big dicks too much to ever abandon them.

Bev had been in a deep restful sleep. She felt a warm breeze blowing between her legs, causing delicious sensations to course throughout her pubic mound. She opened her eyes, looked at her image in the mirrored ceiling, and smiled. Someone was licking her pussy and it wasn't Jack. She looked down, and sure enough, there was a blonde coiffured head between her thighs. She extended her hand and patted the blonde hair.

Her friend had become a shameless hedonist. She knew that once Connie had a taste of good sex, she would cling to it like a child to a toy.

Yes, once a woman abandons her foolish sexual hang-ups, she can begin to fully enjoy her body. As a result, life itself takes on an entirely new significance. No longer is a female restricted to a sole male, dependent upon him for everything from psychological self-esteem to security. Now she can play the field and enjoy everyone.

Connie felt a hand lovingly touching her-as if telling her that it was all right to let one's sexual desires be their guide. At long last she had removed herself from that damnable Middle western propriety that had caused her so much needless shame and guilt over the years. She was a free woman-plain and simple. She could do whatever she wanted with whomever she wanted. Her body was hers, not Herschel's. Her life was hers, not her husband's.

Wow! Wow! And double wow! She finally knew the exhilaration of being liberated!

With that thought in mind, she began lapping Bev's cunt more vigorously. After all, she wanted to please the women who had helped her into a new and wondrous lifestyle.

Meanwhile Bev reached over with her free hand and began fondling Jack's penis. It looked so innocent and cuddly compared to when it was erect. She realized that a flaccid penis brought out the nurturing side of a female, whereas a magnificent erection induced fear. That was odd. After all, a soft cock never produced the tremendous amount of joy which an erection did. Oh sure, one could suck on a limp dick, and play with it, but it just wasn't the same as when it was stiff.

She became philosophical and wondered why little girls weren't taught to lovingly admire erections? It would be a more useful lesson than quadratic equations. And it would certainly be more practical than learning the names of the state capitals. Maybe she could make a recommendation at the next PTA meeting: replace Geography with Erection Appreciation.

Bev ran her fingers up and down the cock's length several times before she felt a slight twitch. Ah! She knew that was a sign! She reached under the scrotum and tickled the balls.

Jack yawned, rolled over, and faced her. He reached down and patted her hand as it stroked his testicles. He said, "There's nothing a man loves better than to have a woman suck his cock in the early morning."

Bev smiled and imitated a rooster by calling, "Cock-adoodle-doo." Within seconds her ruby lips were wrapped around the stiffening black shaft and she was bobbing her head up and down like a yo-yo.

"Ahhh!" Jack moaned. "What a wonderful way to wake up."

He looked down and noticed that Bev's wasn't the only head in motion. Connie was also having a morning snack, except her main entre was Bev's cunt.

"Hey blondie!" he called. "How about switching positions slightly so I can have a breakfast meal too?"

Connie lifted her cum-stained face above the pubic hair and said, "Really!"

"Sure. Bring your pussy to my lips. I want to see if it tastes as good this morning as it did last night."

In only a matters of minutes, he learned that it did.

Jack had his face wedged between Connie's thighs, Connie had her face wedged between Bev's thighs, and Bev had her face wedged between Jack's thighs. It was a happy daisy chain of consenting adults. Everyone was licking, sucking, and lapping. The sounds of slurping permeated the room.

The trio finished each other off and then jumped into the shower together. They washed, scrubbed, and cleansed themselves, and they had a very hard time restraining themselves from one last round of intercourse.

Bev said, "Listen, if we don't stop, we'll spend the rest of the day in bed and never get anything done."

"What's wrong with that?" Jack teased.

They decided that from thereafter they would spend three nights a week together, and as many afternoons as possible.

Connie figured that she would be getting so much exercise in bed, that she wouldn't have to work out at the gym. She calculated that she'd be burning up so many calories in the sack, that she'd actually lose a few pounds.

Bev looked forward to the many new variations of daisy chains she wanted to try. Dozens of configurations, each promising to be more stimulating than the last. She would be living the sexual equivalent of Shangra-La for years to come.

Jack just felt tremendously lucky. He had himself the most beautiful, energetic, and free-spirited menage-a-trois possible. Bev had proven to be the key. Her sparkling charm had liberated Connie. And, of course, Connie was the crown jewel. Fucking an all-American girl was the ultimate turn-on, but when she was as beautiful as Connie, it was heaven.

Jack knew that they would become inseparable adventurers. In the weeks, and possibly, months to come, there wouldn't be a thing they wouldn't try. Would it be possible for him to keep his pants zipped?

He had truly lucked into the best of all possible worlds. Two gorgeous women who were always ready and willing to hump-just different enough physically to relieve any boredom which might set in. But he wouldn't be bored for quite a while. He was certain of that. These babes would keep him satisfied for years and years to come.

After she was dressed, Connie walked across the street to the world she had left behind. She wore a smile and wiggled her ass a little more suggestively than usual. She was a liberated woman exalting in her newly found freedom.

"Yippee!" she said aloud as she stepped onto the sidewalk in front of her house. No longer would she be satisfied with Herschel's worthless fucks. No longer would she stand for an abysmal sexual performance on the part of her spouse. No longer would she tolerate geographical lectures about state capitals as a substitute for stimulating conversation. For ten years she'd put up with that worthless bullshit.

On that note, she stopped to think. Bev and Jack hadn't really provided any stimulating conversation either. But what the hell! They were certainly stimulating in other ways. One day when all three of them were thoroughly fucked out, they would sit back and philosophize.

Besides, she would rather play Switcheroo Pussy any day of the week, than Name the State Capitals.

Just as she opened the door to her house she saw that Herschel was standing in the middle of the living room. She had to smile. Compared to Jack, her husband looked like a dork. His clothing didn't fit and was a decade out of style. His socks were too big, his legs were too scrawny, and his complexion was pallid. He didn't have a developed muscle anywhere on his body, and the last push-up he did was in grammar school.

"What are you doing up?" she asked as she removed her shoes. "You don't have a class to teach until ten o'clock."

"I know," he said. "But I thought now would be a good time for us to make love."

She burst out laughing. She attempted to stop herself, but couldn't. First, because he was no match for Jack, and secondly because he looked so ridiculous dressed in his imitation Hugh Hefner Playboy robe he had purchased at a garage sale. It was three sizes too large and made him resemble a pre-pubescent.

"Be serious," she said. "We haven't made love in the morning since our honeymoon."

"Don't you think that is all the more reason?" he asked with an awkward wink. He was so uncoordinated that he couldn't even suggestively wink properly. .

"I'm very, very tired, honey. Bev and I stayed up all night playing games. I couldn't make love right now if my life depended on it. I'm going upstairs to sleep. See you later."

Herschel almost cried. She had lied to him. For the first time during the course of their marriage, she hadn't been honest.

Oh well, it was probably for the best. After all, he couldn't very well expect her to say, "Bev and I got our brains fucked out by this well-hung black stud we picked up. And wow! He had a dick that you wouldn't believe! It was the size of a whale!"

Herschel wouldn't press for information. If she wanted to remain silent, that was her business. He would remain content just to have Connie as a wife. After all, he might get to fuck her once again someday-if he ever got, another erection.

Connie, on the other hand, realized that Herschel must have known something about what transpired between her, Jack, and Bev. But she didn't care. She was through with Limp Dick Herschel once and for all. She wasn't going to divorce him-just yet. She would let him fidget for a few years the way he had made her fidget for over a decade.

Jack and Bev were her newfound lovers. If worse came to worse, she would move in with one of them. To have Jack's big dick or Bev's sweet pussy at her ready disposal was a lot more appealing than geography lessons during breakfast from Herschel.

Besides, Herschel wouldn't have the guts to ask for a divorce anyway. She was his ticket to academic success. The only reason that he was allowed into the Faculty Club at the university was because all those horny old professors wanted to check out her ass. If Connie hadn't been sexy looking, Herschel would have been instantly dropped from membership.

So much for the enlightened world of Academia.

Connie walked upstairs and undressed. She wanted to get a few hours of sleep before heading back over to Bev's for the afternoon. There was no telling what might transpire. She wanted her pussy to be well-rested for any upcoming action. Her mind was alive with various possibilities. She giggled at her nasty thoughts.

Meanwhile, Herschel walked slowly out to the backyard. He looked down at the ground as he proceeded on his way. He still wore the ridiculous bathrobe he had worn in the living room. As he passed the rose bushes, he looked at them for a moment and remembered cutting the bouquet the night before.

Alas, he realized that was in another lifetime.

He turned and walked to the garage. He shut the door and turned on the overhead light. He stepped over to the window and closed the blinds. He grabbed a couple of National Geographies from his bookshelf and sat down in his favorite chair.

He turned to an article on New Guinea, found a picture with a naked female, and slowly opened his robe. He removed his penis and held it in the palm of his hand.

Alas! he was happy.