With her other hand, Peggy reached down for her own clit and rubbed it with a circular motion, her eyes closed, a smile on her face.
Hank's dick had come to life. He watched these gals thrashing and groaning, and pumped his tool. He sucked air as the blood throbbed in his pipe and the come juice gathered in his balls.
Ruthie was in an incredible position, her back arched high in the air, fucking herself on Peggy's firmly implanted fingers. Her gyrations were smooth and rhythmic.
Hank pistoned his rod in time to Ruthie's movements. The air was thick with lust, self-pleasure, panting and moaning.
Peggy worked rapidly on her hardened clit, holding her fingers tight in Ruthie's faster moving cunt. Hank stepped up pumping on his swollen cock. Each of them was working in his or her own way to one grand and glorious climax!
"That's it, baby. That's it!" Hank whispered, watching little Ruthie go crazy. "Come on, you little finger-fucker. Let her rip! Let her go all the way, you cunt-sucking, little, blonde finger-fucker. Move that ass… yeah!" Hank's words drove Ruthie to a new spasm of motion. "Ohhhh," she moaned. "I'm going to come… I'm going to come."
"That's right, you little sex bitch. Come. You hear me? Move that ass! Come!" Hank screamed as he felt the tightness in his balls and the tickling sensation in his dick.
"I'mmmm coming!" Ruthie screamed. "I'm coming!"
"Come!" Hank yelled hoarsely back at her.
He could feel the fluid moving in his balls, the hot fluid tracing its course up through his hard meat. He pumped it wildly with his hand. "NOW!" he screamed at the girls.
As if on his command, all three: Peggy, who had rubbed herself to an orgasmic state; Ruthie, who had lunged her slit onto Peggy's fingers with such force she had almost driven her labial lips over Peggy's knuckles; and Hank, who had jerked himself off with fervor, all came at once in a howling, mass orgasm.
"OHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrgggggggggggggghhhhhh!" they screamed in unison, as ripples of ecstasy flowed over them, enhanced by the shared howls of simultaneous release.
CHAPTER TEN
When it was all over, they all dropped into silence, Hank sank back into the pillows, his head back, eyes closed, breathing through his open mouth. His mind was a total blank, Peggy sat at the edge of the bed, took a deep breath, and then got up and silently padded into the john. Ruthie, her little orbs bouncing up and down on her heaving chest, was covered with perspiration.
When Peggy returned from the john, Ruthie heaved herself up and took her turn. Hank was so out of it, he didn't even hear the shower going. When Ruthie returned, she had a dripping wet washcloth and a towel in hand. Peggy wiggled a finger at her, indicating "not now." So Ruthie put them down by the bed. Peggy silently motioned her over to the other side of the bed and made a motion with her hand, indicating drinking.
Ruthie understood. She crept silently around to the other side of the bed where Hank lay spent on the pillows, picked up the bottle of wine, still half-full, and returned around to Peggy's side of the bed.
Peggy took a deep draught of the wine, handed the bottle to Ruthie, and leaned back with her eyes closed for a moment.
Now, these two practiced little sex mongers were very young and full of pep. All night sex orgies were child's play to them. They had the strength, stamina, and appetites of the jaded, insatiable participants of ancient Bacchanalian orgies.
Within just a few minutes they had regained their breaths and their strength… not to mention their appetites. In short, they were ready for yet another round of sex!
This time, though, as promised earlier, it was to be a two-on-one situation, with Hank the lucky recipient.
Hank, whose breathing had quieted down to normal, was totally unaware that phase two was on its way. As far as he was concerned, the orgy was over. He was no longer a young man and even in his prime, he doubted that he would ever have been up to an evening like this! No, old Hank was tipped over and tapped out. He'd be lucky if his prick were able to give out with a twinge in the next week.
If he had had any idea of what the innocent looking little nymphs still had in store for him… well, the way he felt at that moment, he probably would have screamed, jumped up, grabbed his clothes, and beat it the hell out of there! There were limits! And as far as Hank knew, he had reached his!
But the wily little teen-ager weren't stupid. They had balled older guys like Hank before. They knew what the score was, and they had no intention of alarming him. They had their own methods worked out, as Hank was soon to find out.
The young blonde and the redhead waited patiently, silently, watching Hank until he had quieted down and seemed almost on the verge of dozing off.
When the girls judged that Hank had reached that perfect state of relaxation, hovering in the limbo between consciousness and unconsciousness, Peggy rose from the bed and stole into the john. She returned moments later with a washcloth dripping warm water in one hand and an unwrapped cake of miniature hotel soap in the other.
She nodded to Ruthie, who gathered up the things she had beside the bed, and the two of them crept over to the side where Hank was stretched out in all of his exhausted, naked glory, his head propped at a seemingly uncomfortable angle on the stacked pillows.
Cautiously, Peggy reached over to Hank. With one hand slipped gently behind his head, she raised it slightly, removed the extra pillow, and carefully lowered his head back onto the remaining pillow.
"Mmmm? Mmmmm?" Hank murmured, hardly audibly.
"Shhhh," Peggy soothed, and stroked his hair back from his sweaty brow.
Hank smiled weakly, licked his lips, swallowed, and drifted off again.
He slipped into that state of dream sensations. Hank found himself a baby again, being bathed by the loving hands of his mother.
He was back in his old family home, immersed in a sub of warm water, his mother gently washing his face, one hand behind his head, and soaping his body, part by part. She rinsed off the suds and patted his tummy dry.
She was nudging him over now, and over he rolled onto his stomach. He could feel the sudsy washcloth being wiped over his shoulders, his back, and his buttocks. Then she washed down his legs, one at a time. He cooed with pleasure at the slippery sensation of the warm suds and the loving strokes as she washed.
Patted dry, he knew the oil would be next. He could smell its fragrance. He felt so clean and fresh! Ahhh, the oil-slick hands were rubbing across his shoulders, massaging them gently. He loved his mother! He loved the soft, intimate way she caressed his body, stroking down his back in broad strokes and down his rib cage, then tracing down his spinal column to the last vertebra.
He could feel the hands oiling his ass, slippery and warm. Then two fingers slipped deftly, surely, into the secret valley between the mounds and, with a sweeping pass, went straight to his asshole.
Hank caught his breath. A slippery finger, starting from his last vertebra, slipped down the full length of his crack and passed over the brown little hole, followed by another and another, over and over again, each time passing over the sphincter muscle. And with each pass, the strokes became shorter and shorter until they were massaging only that sensitive little area of his shit-hole.
Hank flexed his flanks. Something was wrong. Something was terribly, wonderfully wrong! What was happening? His mother… home… Hank shook his head, bringing him back to the level of consciousness.
His dream of childhood, being bathed, his mother, they all disappeared. But that sexual sensation… his shit-hole… the stroking of ms shit-hole continued!