The sight of her hand dipping into that large, juicy area inspired me.
“Oh, my!” Mrs. South, the blonde, pointed admiringly.
Mrs. North also looked on with pleasure. She was panting a bit, and her hand remained between her legs as she continued her story. “After rubbing against him for awhile and trying to get him hot, I was in a dither. So, finally, in my sultriest little girl voice, I said ‘Wilbur, darling, don’t you want to play with me?’ ”
“He said ‘All right, we’ll play.’ And he turned on the light, picked up this deck of cards from the night table, and began shuffling. ‘You cut. I’ll deal,’ he said.”
“Bridge players!” The redhead snorted.
“I wondered where Wilbur got that bump on his forehead,” Mrs. South murmured.
“I hit him with the lamp,” Mrs. North admitted.
“Enough talk!” Mrs. East’s bronze torso rippled as she urged the others to pick me up off my feet and toss me onto the trampoline.
The impact bounced me about a foot into the air. The girls scrambled onto the contraption. I came down on top of Mrs. South and the petite blonde squealed with delight as my tumescent organ skidded off the triangle of curls covering her mound.
Mrs. North raked my rear end with sharp nails. I pulled her hair. Mrs. West came to her rescue, biting at the matting of hair covering the nipple on my chest. I jumped hard to get away from them.
I rose four or five feet in the air and as I descended toward the trampoline again, Mrs. South bounced up so that we collided in midair. With the blonde’s legs wrapped around me, I landed only to have Mrs. North embrace us both and spring so that the three of us went flying back up in the air in a tangle of hot, bouncing breasts, eagerly oiled vaginas, and my own hard, thrusting penis. The blonde was using it like a stunt pilot pulling back on a joystick, while Mrs. North was smothering me with her large breasts and whooping with excitement.
As we hit the trampoline again, the other two girls also fell on us. I found one of Mrs. West’s long, sharp nipples in my mouth, and Mrs. East rode up and down one of my outstretched legs like a Valkyrie, her red hair streaming behind her like tongues of flame. The five of us bounced back and forth over the surface of the trampoline, not rising very high any more, but moving with a helluva lot of enthusiasm nevertheless. I was a bit mindful of the itch all over the place, but there was too much fun to be had.
Mrs. South had been displaced from proximity to my quivering blunderbuss, but she was so excited that she grabbed the mammoth breasts of Mrs. North. Mrs. West impaled herself on me as the group bounced. Her hand was hooked inside Mrs. East for balance and the tanned redhead, far from minding, was clutching at it with her honeybox.
Things became very confused, and it’s hard to sort them out in retrospect. Still, certain moments from that wild spree on the trampoline stand out in my mind. For instance . . .
Mrs. West and Mrs. South, heads buried between each others thighs, legs locked around each others necks, silver-blonde and jet-black curls vibrating with the movement of probing tongues as they bounced higher and higher toward the stars in a frenzy of oral ecstasy . . . Mrs. North enveloping me in her Amazonian flesh, her heavy breasts squeezing my neck, the hot aureoles still moist from the pool, probing inside my ears, her strong thighs forcing me deeper and deeper inside the tightly pulsating tunnel of her lust, while all the time Mrs. East was sprawled atop my back, the weight of her mound on the nape of my neck, her tongue laving my scrotum and inspiring me to pound harder and harder at Mrs. North . . . the four girls arranged around me roughly like a pinwheel as we bounced up and down in unison, gently at first, and then harder and faster with an erotic rhythm we all somehow managed to maintain; one of my outstretched hands deep inside Mrs. North, the other playing with the stiff red clitty of the bronzed Mrs. East; Mrs. South’s blonde head dipping and rising from the vicinity of my feet, her tongue licking the surface of my sword from the hilt to the crown, while her milky breasts with their wide, pink aureoles danced this way and that in the sea breeze; Mrs. West at my head, her thick brunette triangle sliding over my mouth in a rotary motion that made her squeal each time the rhythm brought her pulsing clitoris in contact with my gently nibbling teeth; the five of us slowly spinning as the trampoline shot us higher and higher . . .
Finally we arrived at the point where the five of us were a close-clutching, high-bouncing mass of flesh, all pressed together, burning with the mounting pressure of the need for release, mindless to the ups and downs of our soaring flight. My mouth was buried in Mrs. South’s silver-blonde muff, my tongue interred full-length, my lips fastened to her straining joy-button. The blonde was shuddering over the entire surface of her small body, her head was thrown back and screaming with delight. She was holding onto Mrs. East’s breast with her right hand and squeezing one of Mrs. North’s outsized flesh-melons with her left. Suddenly her fulcrum spread wide over my face and the muscles tensed spasmodically and then were released in a long, drawn out convulsion. Mrs. South gave one final whoop and let go of everything. She fell away from the cluster of the rest of us, bounced a few times off the trampoline, and then came to rest. The petite blonde stayed there, all played out, exhausted.
Still the four of us kept bouncing. . . . Mrs. East, her bronze skin shiny with perspiration, had slipped when she impaled herself on me and I had made the entrance by the back door. The redhead didn’t seem to mind. Facing my feet as she straddled me, her mouth was fastened to the small, sharp-nippled breast of Mrs. West. Mrs. East’s own tawny breasts were being fondled and kissed by Mrs. North. I held Mrs. North by her shapely, oversized buttocks for support, and she maneuvered so that my hand knuckled its way into her hot, wet socket. Finally Mrs. East let go of everything else and started spinning on top of me, her legs and arms sticking straight up in the air, her stuffed derriere bearing down hard untill my very scrotum sack was sucked in by it. She screamed a scream of anal hysteria, and then her muscles relaxed and she, too, fell away, coming to rest beside the blonde on the trampoline and remaining there as our threesome bounced off it and shot up toward the sky once again.
Mrs. West took over her perch, the difference being that she came down right on target. The slender brunette was so agile during the bouncing that she was able to manipulate me with the muscles of her vagina. She was facing me, and those long nipples of hers stuck straight out like twin miniature penises. She leaned her head way forward and licked at Mrs. North’s gaping, juicy joybox as we rose and fell. Mrs. North was squeezing her own giant breasts and, every so often, probing my rear with her sharp-nailed fingers. With Mrs. North providing the weight, and Mrs. West directing our threesome with her athletic agility, we were soon bouncing very high indeed. And with each bounce, Mrs. West was squeezing me like a vise, causing me to turn inside her like a corkscrew. I felt myself swelling with the fluid of lust, growing larger and larger, thrusting deeper and deeper into that honeylined glove-finger. When Mrs. West yelled—“I’m coming! Whee-ee! I’m coming!”-—I could contain myself no longer. The release left me limp; there was no longer a staff for Mrs. West to cling to; she toppled from her perch and settled alongside the pair on the trampoline below.
Mrs. North and I bounced near them and then rose into the air again. The highly charged Amazon had wrapped herself around me and was trying in vain to force entry on me. No way! As we soared, I told her that as gently as I could.
“What do you mean?” she panted. “The other girls all got theirs! You’re not going to leave me hung up!”
“I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do.”
“Premature ejaculator!” Mrs. North snarled at me.