I guess she can feel me emptying my balls in her, because every time I dump another load of cum in her, her vagina goes through that kind of milking thing that she did before – which only makes MY climax that much better by making me cum even harder. We keep going back and forth like that for I don't know how long – but it was both too long, and not long enough. It was too long because I was starting to wonder if my balls were going to end up in her before it was over, and it wasn't long enough because it just felt so damn good.
When it was over, she started to kind of collapse onto the bed; I managed to keep her from just falling, and was surprised when Denise suddenly showed up to help – I'd completely forgotten that she was there. Between the two of us, we managed to get Edith lying down on the bed without either her or me (I was still almost completely hard inside her) getting hurt. I held myself over her, resting on my elbows and my legs kind of tucked under me while I kept my dick as far inside her as I could. Both of us were panting and covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and every so often she'd give a little shudder under me.
Next to us, I heard Denise tell me "If you can make HER feel like that, I can't wait to see what you can do for me. She almost never cums that hard from having a guy inside her!"
I can feel my cock starting to shrink, and I tell Denise "I came pretty hard, too – and I don't think it's going to be long before I slip out of her."
Denise gives me this grin and says "Don't worry about it. I'll clean her up the same way she did me – just a little sooner, is all."
I can't help but grin back before I say "If you don't mind my asking…"
"How did I keep your cum from running out?" she finishes for me, smiling.
"Well, yeah."
"Honestly, I don't know how or why; it just happens whenever I have sex with a guy. It's like when he's pulling out of me afterwards, something makes my opening just get extra small and tight. It isn't uncomfortable or painful for me, but it isn't anything I've ever been able to control, either. If Edith – and you! – hadn't made me orgasm, it would have been an hour before I could even think about having you fuck me again. Now I can not only think about it, but look forward to it!" she told me, smiling.
Beneath me, we heard Edith say "And you've got every reason in the world to. I haven't climaxed that hard from a guy in a long time."
I kissed Edith's shoulder and told her "I'm glad I was able to make it good for you."
She turned her head a little more to look back at me and said "You didn't make it good, you made it great. I could feel how hard you were squirting in me, so I know YOU liked it, too."
I kissed her cheek and answered "Oh, yeah, I liked it just fine." making her laugh a little before she said "I can feel you still in me, but I think you're getting close to pulling loose. If you can stay in me, I'd like to lay on my side. It feels nice having you over me like this, but now I'm starting to feel kind of warm; but I want to feel you in me as long as I can, too."
Rather than answer, I just started trying to see if there wasn't some way of getting us rolled over like she wanted. It took a couple of tries to figure something out, but we finally managed it. The change also gave me a chance to put my arms around Edith and hold her; it was her idea to move my hands to her tits so I could hold them. When Denise saw how much of the area between Edith's legs was still shining from her juices, her eyes got wide and she said "Damn, woman! I thought I was the one that turned got so juicy when I get turned on!", teasing her friend.
I was slowly and softly caressing Edith's breasts when she answered "And I'll be you get even wetter than usual, too, when he does you. He's almost as good as another woman at eating pussy, and he's a damn sight better than most men about paying attention to what a woman wants when he's fucking her."
Denise said "I could tell that he was changing around a lot when he was behind you, but I wasn't sure why."
Edith raised one of my hands to her mouth and kissed the palm before putting it back on her breast, then replied "He was trying to find out what I wanted him to do – and he did. Boy, did he find out!", the last few words emphasized by a shiver of pleasure.
Before anything else could be said, I felt myself finally slip out of Edith's pussy – and Denise didn't say a thing before she quickly moved to position herself to deal with her self-assigned task of emptying Edith's vagina of my cum. Edith raised one leg and draped it over mine to give her friend easier access. Denise wasn't too fussy about just taking care of Edith; several times, she detoured to include my cock, licking it clean of the combination of my and Edith's juices.
When she was satisfied with her handiwork, Denise moved up to kiss Edith – and when I indicated that I was willing, me, too.
There were a couple bottles of club soda that we hadn't consumed, and Denise opened them and handed them over before telling us "They aren't cold, but they're wet; I'll go get some more" then to Edith "You let him hold me, so you just stay there and I'll take care of things this time, okay?"
Edith nodded, and Denise moved to get out of bed and take the tray into the kitchen. I turned loose of Edith long enough for us to get better positioned for drinking – and probably something to eat – before I put my arms around her again. Each of us was holding our bottle, but I had one arm across her stomach as she leaned back against my chest, and she had her arm resting on mine when she told me "I always like the snuggling and holding afterwards when I'm with her or another woman; but it feels really nice, sometimes, to be held by a guy, too. You're bigger and stronger, and when you're holding me like this, I feel safe and protected and appreciated in a way that another woman just can't make me feel. I think you're a very special man, Jim. You're patient and gentle and considerate with us, but you do it without being wimpy – you're still MALE, strong and masculine. How can you be like that, when so many other men can't or won't?"
I thought about it for a moment and told her "I told you that I dropped out of college to start driving cabs. What I didn't say was that I was in my Junior year, and majoring in Philosophy. By the time I got to the point of dropping out, I'd already learned to use philosophy for what I figured it was meant to do: help answer questions that people have in the real world. Maybe it sounds kind of silly, but I spent some of my free time doing philosopher shit: thinking about things – what was good and bad about them, trying to see things from someone else's perspective, that kind of thing. One of the things that influenced me was some of the other classes I took: sociology and psychology more than anything else. I realized that those two and philosophy were tied together in a way that most people didn't see."
She turned her head to look at me strangely, and asked "How so?"
"Sociology is basically the study of societies of people, and an attempt to explain why they do the things they do. Except that sociology hasn't gotten to the point where it can explain things about the whole of human society – that is, the whole planet of people. Why? Because the human race is still pretty fragmented – and each of those fragments is it's own unique sub-society. Sure there a lot of things in common between different societies, but there isn't one set of rules that applies equally to all of them – at least not in any meaningful or scientific way. I mean, you can't develop an explanation for how things work in, say, China, and have it apply in Egypt or France. And it's already known that different cultures have what amounts to different psychologies. There are primitive tribes that don't have the words for 'me' or 'mine' in them; they literally don't have the concept of self or private property. It seems pretty obvious to me that what they consider a perfectly normal person, psychologically, is going to be different than what someone from an industrialized society does. What would they think if one of their tribe members suddenly wouldn't share with the rest because he or she got the idea that they could OWN something and not have to let anyone else use it? It's a perfectly reasonable idea to us, but the people of THAT culture would think the individual was 'crazy'. Maybe they'd call it 'invaded by spirits' or 'living a different life' or something else – but the basic idea of 'not right in the head' is still there; which falls into the area of psychology, or the study of the human mind."