"Oh, yes, suck."
"You taste good."
Lu said, "What a pair, what a fantastic pair of knockers." – the two women were obviously satisfied with their playing up above.
"Yeah," Monty added as he stroked Veronica's leg, "but the real action is always just below the equator. How does the song go: down below, down below, that's where I want to be, a lot of mellow fellows but better than all, some spicy lady, lay dee!" He had himself a good laugh, but his jolly mood soon transformed into a good-natured passion when he began to get a whiff of the fantastic pussy juice rapidly dominating the entire area. "Potent," he observed as he sniffed.
"All the better to seduce you with."
"Hey, you know we fellas can do a bit of that ourselves."
"Come now… how?"
"Don't you think we notice the way you broads look us over when we stand up, the way your eyes center on the fly area, trying to guess if we're hard or not, the way you follow our buns as we go strolling down the street. No, you broads are every bit as horny as the guys, but you're just sneaky about it, that's the entire difference."
"You might have a point," Lu added.
"Sure I do… I have a few perceptions myself." But the first perception on his mind at that moment was just above his nose: the dark and secluded place, above the knees and below the waist – to quote from an old song.
When John and Monty began to suck her off at the same time it was almost to much to take (it was, actually, just that added straw of excitement which took her over the edge).
In her own home, her imagination churning with the throttle entirely out, Veronica twisted and turned on her rug, knowing that she was already into the involuntary spasms of orgasms. She was perplexed for a moment, her mind for the first time out of control, not knowing whether to retain the cast of characters from the fantasy or just roll with the pure sensations. But somehow, the answer was made for her, and it was just Veronica, alone in a room, crazy with passion, dripping in sexuality as if she were really excited by ten studs, one handsomer than the next. "Ooh, oh, agghh!" she groaned out suddenly like a wild animal in pain. She felt her entire body go tense, then her entire being swell, until, for just a second, it felt as if she were suspended in space, alone, frightened and paralyzed. But then came the fantastic melting, the release from ultimate incapacitating tension: "Oh, oh, oohh!" she groaned. This was even better than the initial sensation, the verification of her orgasmic state. She could feel all the energy leave her at once, could feel her blood boiling, then simmer and finally cool in the instance that a glow and flush took over her face. It was indescribable peace, and she was out of breath, but pleasantly puffing, as if she were simply trying to taste something, rather than reach out for a necessity of life; the air tasted sweet under these conditions, like a bonus.
But within minutes, almost to Veronica's own surprise, she felt her inner passion build once again. She could feel those strong sensations – the ache to be manhandled, the dull desire in her breasts to be fondled, the reaching out of her body for hot, torrid action – then she knew she'd return to her little scene. Whence such energy? Who knows, she thought, but she was going to take advantage of every watt of it, if it was the last thing she'd do.
Back in that little synthetic orgy, she started to play with her men, first very gently tapping them in the groin, then harder until they had to back off.
"So, you want a little rough trade, eh?" asked Monty.
"YOU can't get near me," she replied with tremendous arrogance.
Monty came nearer, but to his amazement, the girl knelt under his arms and tripped his legs so that he fell flat on his face. An instant later Bill approached but met the same fate. This was an old and constant fantasy of Veronica's – to have some men by the balls, to be able to overpower them purely in the physical realm. But one must be on the outlook for women, for they are sneaky creatures, and Lu snuck up from the rear, positioning Veronica in a helpless nelson hold. Try as she might, she could not wrench herself free of the wench's grasp.
"Well, well, well," said John, almost sadistically, "what have we here?"
She could feel the blond's huge breasts press against her back, and she leaned against them, hoping to discourage her by the pressure of her weight. But there was no percentage in such action, for the bitch was determined to keep her hold.
So held captive – another dynamite fantasy – John walked up to her (this time it was he who was the arrogant one) and spread her legs. When she managed to squirm loose of his grasp, he had Monty hold her legs apart.
Monty delighted in pinning her in such a manner, as did Bernice, who stood a bit in the background, ejaculating with the most hideous of sighs. But the scene was far too erotic to be humiliating, and in all honesty, it was a scene which turned Veronica on like few others. Her knees were pulled apart as she tried to push them together; there was just no way she could cover her exposed body, her naked pussy, all vulnerable to whatever indignity the likes of these horny bastards might choose to impart. John decided on some straight ahead, no nonsense, no foreplay, straight on fucking. He rammed his cock right up slit and began pumping away. Within seconds, his face was red. Lu looked on and lit a cigarette. Her blond hair looked radiant and her face lit up in a smile as she watched, cupping her own breast and passionately sensing the erection of her nipple.
"Oh, fuck her, fuck her," she said out loud.
"Oh, yes, do it to me you brute."
Monty started to press against John's back in encouragement, but he needed none of that. A big man, a cocky man by nature and temperament (he'd known nothing but success, from college days in ac counting, to switching fields first on a whimsy and then for the sake of career; from the lower structures of corporate insurance, to middle management, and now to his present position, in line for one of the coveted managerial spots).
Monty was a bit of a contrast, no great head on career goals but a good solid jock – full frame, muscular build, coordinated and graceful, and there when you need him, but let the individual to engage in philosophical discussion with his lies be warned.
Nothing really mattered at that point but the nuts and bolts ball and socket operation of straight ahead fucking: all throttles out.
"Oh," she moaned, like a trapped animal.
Veronica was back in her apartment for a second. She looked up and observed that the ceiling was about twirling around her head, the light fixture converted into a mobile, a cartwheel filled with psychedelic colors and forms, the windows in her room, a great cathedral in some futuristic city, her furnishings the surrealistic representations of her inner psychology, all of course being mere accessories to the realities of her genital experience. She stuck that dildo deeper inside but now it wasn't enough. Her pussy demanded change, some novel sensation which could approximate the forced entry she imagined herself experiencing.
Sure, there were several options: (1) she could go outside and get herself raped – an easy enough prospect in this day and age, yet all too dangerous for her own taste given the association of rape and violence; (2) she could call a friend and ask him to rape her (but that would ruin her resolve to make this weekend entirely on her own: (3) she could search for some finer object with which to penetrate pussy. She decided upon the latter, fortunately for her and society and for, as things would turn out, everyone directly and indirectly involved with her life.
She soon struck upon some phallic items in the kitchen, her favorite being the trusty cucumber, the standard carrot, the slightly exotic half-sour pickle, and finally simply a tube-shape applier of frosting, which though a little hard around the edges, could with care approximate the cold cock of the rapist.