Without a murmur, Kathy opened her lips to receive the tip of his stiff, swollen cock, closing her mouth around it, clasping it, sucking it in, her cheeks hollowing as she did so. She ran her tongue around the throbbing head, felt the tiny opening that capped it, licked it gently at first, then more roughly, as tiny droplets of a thick, viscous fluid dribbled out. She ran them over her tongue, savoring their acrid taste before she swallowed them. Now she ran her tongue along the ridge beneath the one named Mark's wetly burning cock, and an electric shock seemed to go through his body, jolting him convulsively. "God, this little bitch sucks cock good," he groaned out loud. She was the best!
He arched his back, withdrawing his thick, piston-like cock, then with a sharp, sudden motion, rammed his fourteen year old, still maturing, cock deep inside Kathy's mouth, thrusting it back almost to her throat.
She gasped at the unexpected violence of the movement, then fought for breath. She caught it as Mark withdrew again, beginning to fuck in and out of her roundly ovalled lips, the countable pubic hairs surrounding his loins grazing the tip of her nose, while his chestnut-sized balls swung back and forth and smacked against her chin with a loud, resounding slap. Kathy increased her mouthing on Mark's cock, grinding down hard on the fleshy instrument that filled the hot, wet cavern of her mouth. One hand snaked around his slender hips, slipped beneath the top of his pants, and Kathy uttered a little cry of disappointment. Why hadn't he taken his clothes off? She was lying there without a stitch on, her slim, luscious young body exposed completely to him and Jim and, yes, all the rest who watched from the other side of the room – Art and Lydia.
Without stopping her feathery fingering of Jim's cock, she devoted her other hand to the struggle to strip Mark of his clothes. She wedged her free hand under his pants, wiggled them down as he rolled his hips to help. And then, they slid over it, slid it around to touch his balls, to tease them, gently squeezing them. She slid her hand on, her fingernails tickling the base of his pulsing cock, running along the underside of his prick as he withdrew it on the backstroke while he continued all the while the rhythmic fucking of her open mouth.
Mark could feel the boiling sperm building up in his scrotum, and a sideward glance at Jim's lust contorted face told him that his balls, too, were almost bursting, his loins aching with the excruciating excitement Kathy's hand imparted to his slipperily fucking cock. She held it tighter and tighter now, moving back and forth on it, manipulating it, milking it, drawing it down and releasing it, teasing, tantalizing with an expertness Jim would never have expected. My God! He couldn't stand it any longer, he thought, giving out a weird, harsh cry. Kathy felt his prick expand and contract in her hand, and then heard his helpless gasps of passion as the hot fluid spurted thickly and wetly in a wide arc, gushing like a boiling geyser onto her nakedly rippling stomach, then flowing down over the smoothness of her thighs, seeping hotly down between them like a searing stream of molten lava.
As Jim cried out, Mark's own grating shriek mingled with his voice, and his balls exploded, too. The crowd heard it all, as he shot his load of warm male semen into the soft, fleshy warmth of Kathy's hungry, expectant mouth. The young woman moaned, her body contracting and heaving rhythmically as her own moist juices seeped wetly from the walls of her cunt again, flowing forth to flood her pink slitted cunt in her own cascading orgasmic juices. Gulping desperately to keep from choking she greedily sucked at and swallowed the churning liquid that seemed to flow endlessly into her mouth, mewling with pleasure as she did so, fighting to hold every succulent drop within her mouth, licking hungrily at the few drops which trickled lewdly from he corners of her lips. As Mark's cock went limp and flaccid between her teeth, as Jim's collapsed within her hand, Kathy lay back, sperm covered, still, satiated, her eyes closed, her nakedly glistening young body motionless.
From across the room, Art had stared at the whole scene with a disbelief so great it came close to blotting out his disgust. His eyes bulged from their sockets, his face was red and apoplectic. The world whirled around him, making him feel dizzy, sick, as if he were standing at some great height, looking down into an abyss miles below. His fingernails clawed into the palms of his hands as he clenched his fists in agony and revulsion. He didn't care in the least; nothing physical could hurt him. His soul was scorched, withered by the sights he had been forced to endure. He no longer had reason to live, he told himself. The only thing in his life he held dear, had protected, that had never hurt him, had now destroyed him – his wife.
Below, in the valley, the uproarious had a new cause for excitement as they listened to a new character in the strange drama occurring somewhere close; no one knew where or who was involved. They thought it was a spoof, that someone was playing a record, a tape maybe, from a pornographic movie track.
Robert burst in the door of the cabin. "Well, I see you've been having a good time without me!" he grinned, stepping over Art's slumping hulk. "Everybody's had their piece of fun and now it's my turn."
No one protested, no one held him back.
Watching Robert stomp towards his wife, Art seemed to be in a state of shock, unable to move, unable to cry out, to protest; for Robert was unbuckling his belt as he did so, whipping down the zipper of his pants, pulling them down. He stood over the reclining Kathy, leering obscenely at her, "My turn, lady," he announced.
And then he squatted down by Kathy's bed, leaning over her, spreading her full, sperm-drenched thighs apart with his young hands. The pink slit of her pussy was exposed to full view, now, quivering and unbelievably coming to life again along its full, hair-fringed length. Robert drew his finger slowly, carefully, along the line of it, stroking it gently, searching out the tiny bud of her clitoris, coaxing it into a taut erection. Kathy gasped in delight at the welcome pleasure that sent little featherlike twitches spinning through her crotch, and on into the blood that coursed like a re-kindled wildfire through every vein she had. Robert felt her response and looked up into her face. "Good, isn't it?" he asked.
"Ooooh yesss," Kathy moaned, knowing nothing now but her mad desire for fulfillment. "I love your cock."
That brought a chorus of laughter from the crowd.
"Well, it's gonna get better," leered Robert, his eye on Jim. He smirked over his shoulder at Mark, too, and then he plunged his forefinger deep inside Kathy's warm, moistly palpitating cunt, worming it into the hilt, withdrawing, entering again. Oh, God, it felt good, Kathy thought, it felt so good she wished something so wonderful could happen to everyone. To Art, for example. And then she looked up to see that it was happening to Art. "Oh, look!" she chuckled. "Lydia's going to suck Art's cock now."
While Robert's finger moved in and out of her tight little cunt, finger fucking her, Lydia was on her knees before the unresisting Art, unzipping his pants and inserting her hand inside them, feeling under his shorts, and finally finding his soft, flaccid cock. She began to stroke it gently at first, then more vigorously, nursing it to life, until strength flowed mystically into it and it jerked upright.
Lydia drew it out then, holding Art's cock in her hand and then began to tease it, forcing the foreskin back, then running her finger along the tender underside of it. Kathy saw her husband's prick swell to enormous proportions – was that her straitlaced Art? she asked herself in amazement – then saw him begin to respond to Lydia's ministrations, moving back and forth as she clasped him tight, just as Jim had done when Kathy had held his prick in her own hand. And now Lydia was bending her head, taking Art's cock into her wide-open mouth, closing her lips around its tender flesh, sucking on it, her cheeks working madly as Art's shaft became rock hard, and began to fuck in and out of Lydia's widely ovaled mouth, shooting forward almost to her throat, retreating, entering again. The fear and anger combination he had felt such a short time before seemed to fade away, and Art began to feel nothing but ecstatic joy that Lydia brought to him. He shook his head, trying to sort things out for himself. For a moment everything seemed clear; he, Art McGuire was indulging in forbidden, perverted pleasures. And then it seemed that it was no longer forbidden, although no one could deny the pleasure of it, and Art relaxed and his pulsing cock moved in and out of the young girl's warm buttery mouth and he felt the churning in his loins, the dull, throbbing ache, and knew that this was the most important, the most exciting, the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him.