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“Eeeeeeeaaaaahhhhhhhh!” Laura Barnett suddenly screamed as she reached, in one blinding instant, the orgasm she had been striving so hard for. Her body bucked and twisted and heaved against George Wellington’s invading finger in her wetly convulsing pussy and cock in her wildly puckering rectum, and then his churning testicles were flooding her rectal passage with his burning hot seed and his finger was receiving the warm, sweet flow of her cuntal juices.

It was then that Edie Prescott’s hot, soft, artistic little mouth and kneading hands took their toll on Tom Parker, and he moaned crazily as the first geyser of his cum erupted through his cock’s glans eye and flooded deep into the back of her throat. “Suck it suckitttt!” he gurgled into her tender cunt, and he used his teeth and his tongue on her erect and throbbing clitoris to make her cum with him as she hungrily milked his balls of his sexual need. Her mouth bloated and contracted, and her Adam’s Apple pumped madly to drink down every last drop of his delicious semen. and then her eyes seemed to roll up in her head as her own climax hit with blinding intensity. Her hips flailed and churned down onto Tom’s contorted face, and they sucked and swallowed the fluids of one another’s mutual and satisfying release.

Dimly, through desire-fogged ears, Jill heard the moans and wails and pants which designated the climaxes of the others involved in this fantastic group orgy. She writhed and squirmed beneath the insanely licking tongue of Harry Sommers. Her head continued to flail like a broken puppet’s and she ground her naked loins up into his lusting face and tongue as if she wished with every essence to consume it there. The tremendous billows of her gathering orgasm were rising, rising, rising, almost there, almost cresting… almost… almost.

Harry reached below his questing face then, with his right hand, and found the sweat and saliva slick opening of her anus. He teased it a moment with the nail, then inserted the tip of his middle finger inside the quivering, contracting nether ring. Then, almost brutally, he rammed the entire finger up to his palm into the smooth brown passage, wiggling it around inside as he did so to feel every ridge within the depths of this innocent young wife whom he had so completely in two days subjugated and turned into a wantonly writhing woman who gave just as much as she received. Jill screamed with the sudden pain, the sudden pain that almost at once became intense ecstasy, and then… and then she came!

Her legs jackknifed straight up into the air, became as rigid as in rigor mortis, and a thin, almost half-human wail erupted from her throat. Her hands in Harry’s hair drew him still deeper into her wetly open loins as her cuntal secretions began to flow from her widespread vagina, inundating Harry’s face and tongue with sweetness, flowing down along her tortured rectum with his finger still buried there to pool in fragrant stickiness on the rug beneath their obscenely locked bodies. She screamed again, and again, still cumming, cumming, cumming.

Then at last, her legs lost their rigidity and splayed out wide and fell heavily onto the carpet. Her head rolled to one side with her eyes wide open, and breath spewed raggedly from between her wetly parted lips. Harry lifted himself onto his knees, grinning down at her, the juices of her orgasm making his face and mouth glisten in the room’s soft light.

“Well, my dear Jill?” he asked softly. “How did you like that?”

“Oh… oh God, Harry…” she managed hoarsely. “It… it was beautiful… “ She was still floating and drifting, and her descent from the heights was far from being complete. The impact of her cumming was still strong on her brain.

“And what do you think of your initiation rite?” asked Harry, pleased in spite of his knowledge of his own prowess.

“I… I liked it!”

“I thought you would, baby,” Harry said. “And this is only the beginning, you know, of the evening’s festivities.”

Only the beginning, Jill thought drowsily, satiatedly. Only the beginning. Yes, this evening was going to be one of the most significant in her life, for at its close the old Jill Parker would be dead and gone and long-buried… and the new Jill Parker would be forever inviolate.

Only the beginning.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jill lay resting for a long while, luxuriating in the aftermath of her splendid cumming by the mouth of Harry Sommers, cradling his head on her lower belly and thinking how truly wonderful it was to be a free and emancipated woman. The room was silent around her for a time, and then there were stirrings here and there and some of the actors in this orgiastic play began to take new roles.

Jill watched as John Barnett crawled over to where Gay Sommers lay stretched out on her stomach, his glistening cock half-erect with newfound passion. He placed a hand on one of her smoothly curving buttocks and began to caress it tenderly. Gay turned her head, looking sleepily at him, and then smiled and rolled over. Barnett lay down beside her and began to kiss and lick one of her ripe, full breasts, while Gay toyed with his thickening cock to bring it into rigid erection once again.

Smiling as if with some secret inner peace, Jill observed the rekindling of their passions for a moment, then tenderly, she raised Harry’s head from her belly and languidly gained her feet. She stood there for a brief time, swaying ever so slightly, looking down at the supine form of the man she loved, her husband Tom. He lay as if sleeping, his head turned to one side and his eyes closed, his right arm around the shoulders of the nakedly sensual Edie Prescott. Edie was curled into a tight little ball, like a contented kitten, her head resting on his hirsute chest and smiling a similar smile to that of Jill’s. Tom’s cum-glistening cock was cradled in the spent hammock of his testicles, and looked to the young wife as if it were a very fragile, very beautiful sculpture which had to be handled with the utmost of care, even though she pined for the angry hardness of it inside her belly and the intense pleasure it could give.

I love you, my darling Tom, she thought. I love you more than I love life itself and now we’ll be together always. When we make love after this party reaches is culmination, it will be for both of us the finest hour of our lives.., but only the first of many, many such finest hours.

Jill touched him gently, tenderly, with her big toe and he opened his eyes and saw her and smiled with the same light of love which was in her eyes. His lips formed the words, “I love you", and then his eyes closed again. Jill, feeling tranquil and fulfilled, moved off toward the bathroom.

When she came out, Will Prescott was standing there with his thick, blue-veined cock at full erection. His features were split in a wide smile, and in his eyes was a smoldering fire.

“Hello, Jill Parker,” he said softly, coming toward her across the bedroom carpet to stand inches away, the already lubricated head of his great cock almost but not quite touching the velveteen softness of her belly.

Her eyes lowered to the throbbing head of his cock as if drawn there by some unseen magnetism, and she moistened her lips.

“Hello, Will,” she murmured, tightening the muscles of her chest so that her ruby tipped breasts were tautly upthrust on her proud, silken chest. She could feel the first tentative stirrings of a new arousal in her loins, and the tender walls of her cunt began to seep forth new secretions. Her nipples hardened into diamond chips, and she knew she wanted him, wanted Will Prescott and his big stiff penis.

Prescott reached out a careless, gentle hand and stroked one of her ripe young breasts with the tips of his fingers. She shivered. He traced a pattern from one breast to the other with his fingertips, then moved them down over her flat-planed stomach to the still damp triangle of her pubic mound. As he did so, he leaned slightly forward so that the unseeing eye in his cockhead was pressed firmly into the indentation of her navel. Again, she shuddered, more violently this time. Prescott’s eyes never left her face; they seemed to glitter with some inner power like the eyes of a hypnotist’s.