“I'll be darned,” Amy blurted. “Look at what's happened to our cute little puppy dog.”
“Puppy my eye,” I snorted. “He's become a menace to public morality and safety, although I should imagine he's outgrown the need for a baby-sitter, now that he's all dog.”
Buddy's breaking voice interrupted our biological study of the canine cock. “Can we get back to us?”
We turned to him, seeing that his shaft was the size of an automobile piston, only longer. Christ, what a hunk of salami that boy owned. He certainly wasn't behind the door when the horsecock was handed out.
Amy nodded, still in position, and he moved in. She lifted her feet and they floated before her with ease, while she gripped the side, steady as an anchored buoy. Then Buddy was against her, his rod stabbing along her thighs and then into the fur of her lower belly. There didn't seem to be a prayer of a chance for him to actually get that thing inside, but I envied him. He had a wonderful future with the ladies and, someday, he'd be the drawing room toast of the civilized world.
“I… I don't know,” Amy murmured, her eyes fixed on the monster as though it were a pet who might bite if she were to pat its head.
“It hasn't really hurt anyone yet,” Buddy maintained. “Lots of girls like to yell about it, but they all manage, somehow, and they sure like to come back for seconds.”
“Braggart of a young pup, isn't he?” I snapped to Trudy.
“He doesn't believe in hiding his talent.”
“How could he? It would take an awning draped around his crotch to hide that boar's head.”
The young blonde giggled, stepping to my side so that our hips brushed right at water level. Casually, her arm went around me, the hand hanging down across my buttocks, where her fingers lightly kneaded the flesh. She knew how to handle any situation, it seemed, and my anger at what Buddy was about to do subsided at once.
We watched the live action once again, seeing Buddy lower his sights as Amy's ankles went around his waist, pulled him closer and allowed the tip of his head to shove into the spread folds between her legs. She took the rest of the head with surprising ease and I gasped out loud as she received several inches of his plump shaft with his next thrust.
“How can you do that?”
She looked over at me. “Maybe now you know why I sometimes dream about other men,” she laughed, obviously teasing, even though my ego was sinking in the west. “I guess I always had some in reserve.”
“I should guess so,” I agreed.
Buddy continued to uncoil his piston into her loins and the thing sank deeper and deeper, until I was certain it was going out her backside and into a hole in the tile. Yet she took even more and before long he was down to his last two or three inches, his heavy balls already beginning to bulge against her lower thighs.
We were gathered around like guests watching a moon landing on the television set, our eyes wide, mouths open, small gasps of astonishment coming from our throats. Trudy never neglected me through it all and I figured she was smart enough to keep me interested so that I wouldn't flare up and paste the big goon in the mouth.
Her fingers were going underwater to whisper and swirl along the crack of my ass and I had to admit she was doing a good job of keeping me under control. I wouldn't have pulled away from that hand for all the boll weevils in a diseased cotton patch.
Buddy slammed his hips forward for the last time and he was home free, in to the hilt, his balls smashed into her crotch until I thought he might try to tuck them inside, too. Amy's hips and bottom-what I could see of the latter, at least-actually seemed to be distended and I wasn't surprised. I figured she must have absorbed five pounds of hot meat loaf into her middle and that was enough to fill out anybody.
Amy wore a strange expression, like Mona Lisa getting her gun, I guess you might say. At any rate, it was difficult to read that smile, but there wasn't any mystery about what was turning it on. She was a woman fulfilled, all right, and any more would have split her into two parts, I'm certain.
They began their stroking, but it wasn't very rhythmic because he was in so tightly. There was very little play and I imagined that he would take her insides with him if he were to pull out with any great force. As it turned out, there wasn't much need for moving around, because they both appeared to be on the cliff of a climax within a few seconds.
Amy's smile turned into a happy grin and then she save out a thin, high wail as her rump undulated, rolling against the tile like ocean waves. She was coming hard and strong, for the second time that night, still getting her gun before the cave man went off. She was a hair-trigger woman, all right.
Buddy-boy wasn't left completely behind, however; his balls were swelling until I thought they'd burst through their blue sack and float across the pool. Then he was blasting and Trudy and I could see the shock waves radiate across the water from their shuddering loins.
Together, her legs locked around his hips and behind his back, they came again and again and my envy was growing. It didn't help when Alexander came back and, at the precise moment that Amy was getting her rocks off, licked the back of her neck, obviously aroused. While my wife was still in the middle of her climax, the dog's long red tongue went under her ear and then around to her throat as she lay her head back on the apron.
Christ, if he'd wanted to, he could have French-kissed the woman.
“As they became spent, their bodies sagging so that I began to fear Amy might slip under the surface to a watery but peaceful grave, I became aware that Trudy was more insistent. She had navigated the crack of my bottom and now she was down in the hairs, far below the surface, coming between my legs to pinch the rear base of my balls.
“Ouch,” I whispered, dragging my eyes from the others to look at her.
“That doesn't really hurt, does it?” she purred, her eyes half closed. She was turning it on good, her bouncy boob jabbing my upper arm.
“I can stand it,” I admitted.
“Come on. Let's have some fun of our own. I hate spectator sports.”
Taking my hand she pulled me toward the deep end, and soon it was impossible to walk. We swam quietly, our arms below the surface, occasionally cupping a breast or a cock as we paddled. In a moment we paused under the diving board and Trudy looked up.
“Can you reach the end?”
Working easily, I let my body sink and then I bobbed straight up, pumping strongly, and I got high enough to catch the end of the board with both hands and hold on, bobbing, the water halfway between my hips and knees. We looked down at me, Trudy paddling all the while, seeing that my penis was still straight out. She'd been teasing me ever since we'd left the house a good half hour before and the ache was getting tiresome. I told her so.
“All right, hang on, partner.”
She swam to me, wrapping her arms around my shins and pulling herself up until her face was above my knees. My toes dug into her breasts and I located her nipples, wiggling until she almost fell off with a tickling series of giggles. Working higher, she soon had her face just below my crotch and my organ lay heavily on the top of her head. As she pulled herself up again, it was bent back in dangerous fashion, so she ducked her face to one side.
After staring into its blind eye for a long minute, she looked up at me. “All set?”
“God, yes.”
Across the pool the other two, Buddy and my ever-loving wife, were looking on, like spectators at Wimbledon.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Trudy Pipp pursed her red lips and kissed me on the head of my cock.
It was a glorious sensation, reminding me of the night we'd met, when she'd given me a similar courtesy, and I hoped she would linger at her task longer this time. The nerves were jumping for joy from north to south and from the Maine of my head to the California of my big toes.