And this is precisely what followed, the stud sticking his rod right into her cunt as they lay on their sides, the other gentleman falling to the side exhausted, holding his rapidly wilting cock between his fingers, wrenching out the final few drops of come. Fuck him, Veronica thought, fuck him all the way you bitch. The woman looked a little mad at this point, already well into her second orgasm as she brought her second man to his first. Faster, harder they fucked and then began to turn on their sides. Good cinema, thought Veronica. The couple was rapidly working up to a fever pitch, a frenzy of excitement as the other man looked on, as a room filled with horny people witnessed their machinations. It got even more energetic, and the man started to rub the woman's breasts, harder and faster, furiously, until his body lurched into a tight spasm, his face reddening, his legs jerking into a stiff position, his mouth opening in ecstasy.
As suddenly as it began, the film that Veronica composed in her imagination was over, the screen becoming white, Lu and Bernice looking ready for action, as Bernice fingered the sides of her huge breasts, eyeing the assorted men in the room, especially John and then, even Veronica.
"Well," she said, moving over to John, "I can tell you liked our little movie."
John was a little nervous at first, probably a bit in awe of her massive endowments, "Yes… loved it. I like a really hot piece of action."
Bernice was most direct, "Then I think you'll like me."
Before the man knew what was happening, he looked about and saw the two other men in the room began making it with two other women, which, for the moment, left a nice group of himself, Lu, Bernice, Vern, and then a guy who came over, introducing himself as Monty, a big, burly hulk of a man, already stripped to the waist. John moved over to Bernice and was given the visual go-ahead, which he promptly took advantage of by kissing the woman on her dark, hot lips, then feeling the firm flesh on her back, excited by the brassiere strap which he knew would soon be loosened and pushed out of the way. He began to rub the flesh on her back, then up her sides above the hip and just below the waist.
Meanwhile, Monty moved over to Veronica in order to get acquainted. Veronica liked the prospect as he was a big, aggressive type and would waste no time on the amenities, no small talk, no beating around the bush, no light drink or nibble of food be fore getting down to business, just hot fuck action. He immediately kissed her on the lips as Lu looked on, evaluating the woman's performance, as if deciding on if she was worthy of her own amorous interests. That's the way Vern liked to imagine things. Her imagination was being honed to a fine point where she could almost effortlessly conjure all types of images, and even better than that, the details of sexuality – the sizes and shapes of bodies, the nuances of behavior, the detail of genitals, almost as if she were there herself.
She imagined, could really feel, the poignant taste of the brute's lips as he aggressively, almost roughly, drew her to him and pursed his own kisser on top of hers, rubbing her back, feeling her big bet tom with the palm of his hand, which almost moved upward into her womanhood, but teased around the area. Vern felt like moaning out but controlled herself as the man brought her body closer to his own, until she could feel the bulge in his pants swelling, growing as it pushed against her own body, a development which almost drove her wild with passion, which made her want to push her body against his, yank down his pants, then really go at his hot member, with touches, pushed, yanks, pulls and pushes, and finally – and this would be best of all – hot sucks.
"Baby, I can see you don't fool around."
Encouraged, Veronica positioned her body even closer to the man's until he could feel her full breasts crushing against his chest, sense her hot breath on his face, on his neck and then on his shoulder as the hot woman really got down to business.
Meanwhile, Bernice was giving hot action to John. She moved over to the couch and removed the man's shirt, toying with the hair on his chest. As if to even the score, but really giving him by far the better deal, she removed her blouse and exposed her chest, complete with two spheres held in place by a low-cut and extremely sensual bra. "Go ahead," she encouraged, "kiss them, kiss my big, fat tits."
John pursed his lips and for a second just paused to take in the sights. He was aware that Vern and Monty were already a step ahead of him, Vern lying topless on her side on the rug, and Monty having his pants pulled down to his knees. But that was okay; this wasn't a competition. He preferred to bask in the sight and excite himself to the limit, slowly, but not languidly. His blood was almost boiling as he imagined what kind of nipples she had (small or large, red or pink, rounded or oval, large, huge, or medium, prickly or perfectly smooth, hard or spongy). "May I," he asked, but with the tone of a statement. He didn't have to wait for an answer, so he got down to business immediately. He unlatched the back of her brassiere. He slowly drew the cups down until her breasts were revealed, huge, glorious and magnificent. She had large button-shaped nipples, red and juicy, nipples which he immediately tongued and then covered with his own spittle. She liked that, liked that so much that she arched her back in order to put them in his face, arched her back in order to make her mammoth knockers appear even huger.
Then he pushed his head right into them, almost swimming in her endowments. "Ooh," she moaned out, "feel them all over, kiss my big tits." Without hesitation, John pushed the spheres together, then up and down, apart, together again, until he could see them at every angle, could feel their weight as they strained under his fondling. "You really know how to man handle a woman," she said, encouraging him further, enticing him by the tone of her voice and the enthusiasm of her body; by the look in her eye and the motion of her hand which was already making its way down to his cock; by the arch in her back and the very erection in both her nipples. "Come on John, why don't you make yourself nice and comfy – know what I mean."
John quickly began to remove his clothing: first his shirt, which was already entirely opened, then his trousers, and finally all his underwear. He noticed that he was still wearing his socks, which looked a little foolish, so he removed them quickly, bending over and exposing the back of his balls, distended and fat, as he bent over.
"Oh, John," she said, "you are a hulk." With that she moved over to him and shamelessly cupped his balls from the rear, touching a spot so sensitive that the big man almost yelled out and jumped forward more than a few inches. "Come now, I know you can take it." She moved closer to him, and this time took hold of his balls with her palms, squeezing them gently, then harder, until he held her hand in a motion for her to have mercy. "Got you by the balls so to speak, don't I." After she eased up, she began to stroke his shaft, from the bottom or the base, up ward to the middle, finally right to the sensitive tip, and just under the glans. "You like that," she said demurely, "I know you like that." This broad was the sexiest thing Vern bad conjured ever, kind of an ultimate in womanly power, the kind of woman no man in his right mind could walk away from, especially when she looked him straight in the eye and seemed to call out to him, to deliver her entire message: look, I'm hot and available and want some real action, so if you have the guts I have the pussy. That's the way Veronica had always wanted to be, and she realized that she'd invented close to her feminine idol. Bernice pushed her breasts into the man's chest once again, "Why not taste my lower parts?" she knew this was an offer John would quickly honor, probably without hesitation in answering (no need for confirmation when a lady is so fabulously available).