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Chapter 41 The Banquet
“Have you ever been to an orgy,” asked Traci making idle conversation in an attempt to relieve the boredom and discomfort of her position? Traci was resting on her elbows and the sides of her knees. Her thighs were extended perpendicular to her body. Her position resembled a frog and afforded the maximum exposure of her anus. If her tummy hadn’t been resting on two pillows the position would have been unbearable. Portia was kneeling at her rear applying body paint.
“I don’t think so, not sure,” said Portia after thinking a minute while she held the smoke from the marijuana cigarette in her lungs. “I’ve been in lots of group fucks and I’ve been gang banged but a true orgy, no, I don’t think I have.” Portia handed the joint to Traci who took a deep draw.
“You were gangbanged, Portia. That sounds awesome. Tell me what happened, girl,” asked Traci before filling her lungs? “This is tremendous dope. You have to promise to get me some to take on my honeymoon.”
“Will do. Our dealer has an extensive bridal registry,” said Stacy combing her hair.
“I attended Peter Richards High School in East Trenton, NJ. Being able to survive a gangbang was a graduation requirement at Double Dicks,” said Portia carefully outlining the large red lips she was body painting around Traci’s sphincter.
“Who gangbanged you?” asked Traci?
“The first time it was my older sister, Margaux. She and a half dozen of her dyke friends got me drunk then dildo fucked me to celebrate my birthday. They screwed me until I couldn’t come anymore then packed my orifices with sex toys and duct taped me to the school’s flag pole,” said Portia.
“You went to a tough school,” said Traci wondering what it would have been liked to be in Portia’s situation. Being naked and vulnerable appealed to her Traci’s erotic nature.
“One of the toughest, the next time it was in the boy’s locker room. The football jocks decided it would be fun to gang rape the Goth girls. One day after practice, they grabbed us and took us to the locker room where they made us strip for them. They tied us face down with our butts hanging off the benches.”
“Did the coach stop them,” asked Traci?
“It was the coach’s idea. He went first. Although it started off scary, it ended okay. They didn’t hurt us. It was my first but not last extended ride on a locker room bench. I lost my anal cherry that afternoon.”
“Your stories are making me hot and ready for the orgy,” said Traci stroking her crotch as she filled her lungs with marijuana smoke.
“What exactly makes an orgy an orgy?” asked Portia?
“You have to have a crowd,” said Stacy taking the joint from Traci.
“Total loss of sexual inhibitions, anything goes,” added Portia.
“Indiscriminate coupling with both sexes,” said Stacy.
“Piles of hot sweaty bodies starved for sexual intercourse in all forms and sizes,” said Portia. “Everyone rubbing their organs together expressing a desperate yearning for penetration.”
“Body fluids are swapped to the point, you’ve got the taste of every pussy and cock in the room in your mouth,” said Traci licking her lips.
“Stop, you’re making me horny,” said Stacy.
“Well if this year is anything like last, you can definitely add orgy experience to your resume,” said Traci. “It will be wild. Leslie has planned some kind of surprise.”
“This dress leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination,” said Stacy looking at her self in the mirror. The micro-fiber material formed itself around her breasts delineating her nipples. “I’ve worn clothes that showed my nipples before but never my entire boob. And look at the way it hugs my crotch. You can see my labia. This material acts like a second skin.”
“A cocktail dress that displays a girl’s camel toes. Isn’t it great to be alive and fucking in the America of today?” said Portia.
“In high school we used to tease Stacy about always having her headlights on. She’d spend the day walking around with her arms over them,” said Traci.
“I had to. The boys would pinch them and it hurt. But I’ve changed since those days,” said Stacy gently squeezing her nipples to make them stand out.
“You look gorgeous. I wish I looked half that good,” said Traci turning her head to stare at Stacy. “I’ve got to lose ten pounds before the wedding.”
“That shade of blue suits you,” said Portia dressing quickly. “And you definitely have the body for the dress.”
“I’m skipping the panty,” said Stacy lifting the hem to hook her fingers in her thong. She pushed it down and stepped out of the garment. “It ruins the smooth line of the material.”
“Now your camel toes really show. I can even make out your clit,” said Portia.
“Underwear is pointless. Besides you’d never find it once they rip it off you. Last year, the men started wearing our panties as head bands,” said Traci looking back at Stacy.
“All done,” asked Portia finishing up Traci’s paint job? “Easily my best work.”
“Let me see,” asked Traci. “No one’s ever painted my asshole before.”
“Here,” said Portia handing Traci a mirror.
“Fucking awesome, absolutely fucking awesome, Portia, you’re the Martha Stewart of asshole decoration,” said Traci. “It makes me want to eat my own butt.”
“Thank you, Traci,” said Portia putting the body paint aside and wiping her hands on a towel. “You look terrific as always, Stacy. That dress looks like it was made for you. Who’s the designer?”
“Olivia Matrice, who’s she?” asked Stacy reading the card that identified the donors of the third costume of the day as she turned to view her profile. It wasn’t a designer Stacy was familiar with.
“She’s new. Leslie discovered her and is helping her break into the business,” said Traci stepping into an identically cut dress in a different color. “Zip me, please.”
All the hostesses would be wearing identical dresses but in a half dozen different colors. Traci was wearing red and Portia black. The style was incredibly simple. What made the dresses spectacular was the way the material hugged the body.
“Drugs, anyone,” asked Carole, the regional director of Women In Harm’s Way as she entered the room. Carole, a tall brunette Stacy took to be in her forties was already dressed in her clinging Olivia Matrice. She was carrying two baskets. One contained phials of pills and the other bottles of mineral water.
“What’s the pharmacist prescribing,” asked Traci?
“Ecstasy, cocaine, Vicodin, and for the really adventurous, crystal meth,” said Carole offering the basket to the three.
“Just E for me,” said Stacy taking two tablets and a bottle of water.
“X for me too,” said Portia accepting the pills from Carole.
“Well, since everyone says crystal meth is very dangerous and habit forming, I’ll give it a try,” said Traci taking one of the packets of crystal from the basket. A moment later she took another one. “I don’t want to run out of energy as long as there is a hard cock left in my great grandfather’s lake home.”
“Whoa,” said Stacy stepping into her shoes and finding her balance. The two-inch platform and five and a half inch heel raised her to well over six feet. The ceiling seemed very close.
“These shoes are a mind trip,” said Traci.
“I hope I don’t fall and break a leg,” said Portia.
“If you fall on the floor, a man, probably more than one, will fall on top of you,” said Traci giving herself a final check in the mirror.
“We look terrific,” said Portia as the three girls stood side-by-side facing the mirror holding hands.
“Shoes and dress, no hose or underwear, that’s what I call basic,” said Stacy.
“Those fuckers are getting their money’s worth,” said Traci.
“I plan on screwing my brains out tonight,” said Stacy. “I am a desperately horny lioness who intends to prey on the males of my species as they preyed on me this afternoon.”
“I will play the role of a post modern feminist doing research on how men of wealth, power, and position objectify a woman’s body treating her as a thing for their pleasure, not a real person. I’m going to have to screw as many as possible to have a decent statistical sample,” said Portia.
“I am just a blushing bride-to-be having one last desperate orgiastic fling before settling down into being the supportive and faithful wife of an ambitious young politician,” said Traci.
Moments later, the three were standing on the landing with the other hostesses receiving final instructions from Carole. The thirty-two hostesses had just posed for a group photograph.
“This is it, girls. Tonight is our last chance to garner support for a wonderful charity. It’s very important each donor leaves, feeling he got excellent value for his gift,” said Carole.
“We’re ready,” said several of the girls energized by the ingestion of drugs.
“Now, Leslie insists everyone stay in control until dinner and the presentation is over. So no under the table blow jobs until it’s done,” said Carole.
“How about hand jobs?” asked someone?
“Okay, as long as they’re not too obvious,” said Carole. “But no climbing under the table no matter how much he wants you to suck his dick.”
“How do we know when to let it all hang out,” asked Traci?
“There will be a brief dance performance at the end of the formal presentation. As soon as it is done, the real party starts. Remember, the word no is not part of your vocabulary this evening.”
***
“Has this been a terrific weekend or what,” shouted Leslie from the podium? The audience loud applause indicated they agreed.
The great hall of Moynahan Castle was as Stacy remembered it. It was designed after a royal hunting lodge in Scotland where English nobility dined after the hunt. Stacy could imagine drunken lords and their bare breasted ladies consuming the day’s kill. Given what was about to happen, the only thing missing was a pack of dogs eating scraps under the table.
From somewhere, Stacy recalled the Moynahan fortune was founded on lumber and wood pulp. There were still Moynahan pulp mills in Canada but the family had sold its interest years ago.
Everything was splendidly rustic. The largest moose head, Stacy had ever seen, adorned the end of the room. The floor was polished New Hampshire granite covered by wine colored oriental rugs. The walls were dark chestnut paneling harvested before the blight consigned the nation’s magnificent chestnut trees to extinction. Stacy wondered how much longer the castle would stay in Moynahan family hands.
Most of the enormous weekend lodges built by Traci’s great grandfather’s generation had been donated to conservation land banks or turned into condominium clubhouses. With its large reserve of forest and superb lakefront, it was doubtlessly worth millions. That reminded Stacy one day she would have to make similar decisions about the Todd’s estate and she had been too long between visits to her grandfather.
“I can’t wait to have you,” whispered Larry, the man seated to Stacy’s right. She had just finished jacking him off under the table. She was considering asking the waiter for a fresh napkin given that she had just wiped his semen on her’s. It had joined the ejaculate of Stewart, the man seated to her left. Stacy’s countenance reflected her animal lust as she daintily licked her fingers.
“You are so fucking hot. That was incredible,” said Larry marveling at her skill and the passion that drove it.
“You have my friend, Portia, to thank for that. She taught me the hand job is our most underrated sex act. Right Portia?” said Stacy.
“Definitely, Stacy and I spent hours practicing with two friends to perfect our technique,” said Portia who was seated nearby. Moments before, Portia’s hands had been covered by the reproductive fluids of her dinner companions.
“I would have to stay it was time well spent,” said Larry. “I can’t recall a better hand job.”
“Nor can I,” added Stewart. “Who were these lucky friends?”
“Monk and Les, two fellow students, it was awfully nice of them to allow us to use their penises as learning tools,” said Stacy.
“If I’d known, you could have used mine,” said Doug, Portia’s dinner partner and the overweight businessman who had been with Stacy and Traci that morning.
“I’m sure you have more important things to do than sit around our condo letting us play with your dicks,” said Portia enjoying flirting with the older men.
“Wrong,” said Tony, Portia’s other dinner partner. Tony’s double dose of his erectile dysfunction drug had already restored his tumescence. He was finding it difficult to resist his desire to carry Portia off to a quiet place where he could mount and fuck her until exhaustion.
“You actually practiced your hand job techniques,” asked Stewart reaching underneath the table to feel Stacy’s warm sex. Stewart was having a difficult time believing Stacy and Portia had engaged in a systematic effort to improve their skill at manually bringing a male to climax. His workaholic schedule permitted only occasional intercourse with his wife who took far more interest in their two young children than pleasing her husband.
“Yes, we used the Kama Sutra, a very excellent book on Tantric yoga, and several documents we googled from the Internet as source materials. We believe there is a fundamental difference in approach between a good hand job and a good blow job or even a fuck,” said Portia.
“Not to mention, the bottles of hand lotion we went through,” said Stacy surprised at how much she had been enjoying her dinner table conversation with men her father’s age. She had thought the first part of the evening would be tedious.
“Portia’s a genius when it comes to sex and painting. I can’t wait to show everyone how she decorated my asshole,” whispered Traci to her dinner partners.
“I can’t wait either,” said her dinner partner as he moved his fingers over her bare wet sex.
“What makes a hand job different,” asked Larry?
“The human hand is one of nature’s most versatile tools,” said Stacy holding up her hand and flexing her fingers. It can apply pressure in a highly sensitive fashion; but you must be able to sense and interpret the biological feedback it receives from the male organ.”
“Fingers are ideal for working from the base of the testicles where the frenum anchors the scrotum to the very tip of the penis in long even strokes,” said Portia taking both her partner’s penises in her hands and squeezing the tip. “But I believe it is the way the fingers apply pressure to the very tip of the cockhead that make the critical difference.”
“Skillfully applied pressure motivates the ejaculate to spring forth through the urethra at warp speed. We believe a good hand job results in greater production of semen than its sister the beloved blowjob and even the holy grail of vaginal and anal intercourse,” said Portia sounding very clinical and authoritative.
“I like a little ass play myself,” said Doug.
“That’s what the other hand is for, Doug. However, not at dinner,” said Portia laughing.
The clanging of Leslie’s spoon against the side of her wine glass interrupted the discussion and returned everyone’s hands to top of the table and eyes to the podium.
The crowd of roughly a hundred did not begin to make the room appear crowded. They’d responded to Leslie’s question with an enthusiastic roar of agreement. Sexual anticipation was evident as the men hungrily eyed the hostesses. Everyone sensed the serious part of the banquet was almost over.
The evening had begun at 6:00 when each of the hostesses descended the stairs to be greeted by the two donors assigned by lottery as her dinner table companions. This was intended to make sure the sexes interacted. Leslie was aware of the possibility the men would group together on one side of the room and the women the other. Her solution was to assign each hostess to two men she was to remain with until after dinner and they had screwed her at least once.
“Stacy,” announced Carole when she appeared as the top of the landing. Waiting at the bottom were Stewart and Larry. They looked awfully pleased as Stacy carefully navigated the steps in her platform heels. During the cocktail hour, they talked freely about themselves.
Stewart was the co-founder of a software firm whose recent initial public offering had made him an instant billionaire. He was married to the woman who helped him start Orion Software. His wife had recently stopped working to have their second child. Stewart was younger than the others, in better shape, and proving more aggressive
“Call me next week, Stacy. We can go to dinner,” said Stewart slipping his business card in her tiny purse. His hand gently squeezed her bottom as he made his offer.
“I’d like that,” lied Stacy thinking there was no way she was going to become involved with another married man. Mike Cabreeze was enough of a problem.
Larry was older than Stewart. He looked to be in his late forties. He managed a $130billion mutual fund for Boston’s largest investment firm. After Stacy informed him she was a Harvard student, he had queried her closely about the admissions process. His daughter graduated high school the next year and hoped to attend an Ivy League college.
“Nancy plans to apply at Harvard but she thinks she has a better chance at Dartmouth because of lacrosse, Dartmouth’s more of a jock school,” said Larry showing Stacy a picture of a honey blonde girl holding a lacrosse stick in one hand and her helmet in the other.
Looking at the picture of the smiling high school junior only a few years younger than her, Stacy though it odd her father’s hand was slowly moving up her leg. At the moment, it was only inches from home base.
“I’ve heard that about Dartmouth,” said Stacy encouraging him by placing her hand on his and moving it to her bare sex pressing it against her growing warmth and wetness.
“God, you feel hot,” said Larry his fingers exploring her sex. “Of course, Natalie and I will be supportive no matter where she winds up.”
“That’s important. College admissions are difficult. I was a legacy which made it easier,” said Stacy opening her legs slightly to make herself more accessible.
“I can’t wait until this is over. I’m going to fuck you right here on this table,” whispered Larry in her ear.
“I’d like that,” said Stacy placing her hands on both men’s crotch and squeezing gently.
The evening had begun sedately with cocktails and finger food on the terrace over looking the lake. It was just cool enough to make the hostesses nipples spring to attention. At precisely 7:00, a gong had summoned them inside to the great hall for dinner. Seating was arranged in a long rectangle. One end of the rectangle was elevated and contained the podium.
A string quartet played classical music during dinner. Platters of venison, wild bore, and game birds along with vegetarian dishes were brought to the diners.
“Are you a meat eater,” asked Larry offering Stacy a plate of rare venison?
“Yes, I love meat, as long as it’s rare,” said Stacy taking a portion.
“I’ll like to buy you the best steak in Boston,” whispered Stewart in Stacy’s year.
“I’d love that,” said Stacy smiling as she recalled Carole’s dictum to agree to anything and everything but forget it on the drive home.
Following dinner, Leslie had made a short slide presentation on how money from last year’s golf outing was used to improve Women In Harm’s Way. Their donations had funded capital improvements to several shelters the charity operated in New England.
Leslie then introduced Grace as one of the women who had been helped by Women In Harm’s Way.
“Statistics are important and I’m sure we all want our donations to be spent where they will do the most good. But numbers alone don’t convey the human side of the good that’s being done. Tonight, someone who has been helped by your donations has prepared a multi-media presentation that speaks to the heart of the issue. I would like to introduce Grace Broadhurst, a woman of courage and talent,” said Leslie.
A petite brunette dressed in an Olivia Matrice stood up and walked slowly to the podium where she and Leslie exchanged kisses. The lights dimmed. A large screen behind the podium displayed the title, One Woman’s Journey by Grace Broadhurst.
Stacy recognized Grace as one of the hostesses she had met on the golf course. She and Traci had been exchanged for Grace and her partner. When she last saw Grace that morning, she was kneeling naked on the green with Doug’s belly towering over her and his fat cock in her mouth.
“My name’s Grace Broadhurst and Women in Harm’s Way saved my life. I’m thirty-three years old and I have two children, Michelle and Justin. They’re both home with my new husband and best friend, Charles. I have to thank Charles for his support in creating what you are going to see tonight and encouraging me to be here this weekend.”
Stacy winced at the mention of husband as best friend. Portia’s my best friend thought Stacy and my husband is going to be my husband not a friend. Several slides showed Grace and a handsome light complexioned man being married. The man was tall and powerfully built. The wedding pictures were the usual ones beginning at the church, continuing through the reception and ending with the bride and groom leaving in a limousine.
“Matt and I met our final year at Pitt. We had a June wedding at St. Paul’s in Jamaica Plain. On that beautiful sunny day, I considered myself the luckiest woman in the world. Matt, to me, was everything a husband should be. We went to Aruba on our honeymoon where Matt indulged his hobby for amateur photography. One of our wedding gifts was a video camera.”
The large screen showed a short video clip of a smiling Grace walking along the beach topless waving to the camera. The video wandered to show other topless bathers. Grace had a good figure and the camera lingered over the tiny bikini that barely covered her bottom and sex.
“Matt talked me into going topless on the beach. Of course, I wasn’t the only one.”
Clip over, the next side showed Matt in the uniform of a Pitt football player. The slide changed to show various publicity photos of Matt as a Pitt Panther. The final slide was of Matt shaking hands with a man in a suit as he held up an Atlanta Falcons football jersey.
“Matt played middle linebacker and made All American his senior year. He was drafted in the second round by the Atlanta Falcons.”
That was followed by more publicity stills of Matt as a Falcon. A picture of a large suburban home followed.
“We purchased a beautiful home in Atlanta and I became pregnant with Michelle. It was a happy time. Our social life revolved around the other Falcons and their families,” said Grace as the screen displayed a video clip of very pregnant Grace sitting on the edge of a hot tub. Once again she was topless. A very large muscular black man was seated between Grace and another woman who was also black, topless and pregnant. The black man’s enormous arms reached around both women to cup their milk-swollen breasts.
“Those were our good friends Monique and Oliver. Oliver was an all pro defensive tackle. He and Matt were not only teammates but also good friends. Monique and I delivered within a week of one another. We partied with them and the other Falcon families. The stories you hear about the uninhibited sex life of NFL players, coaches and their wives are true. Our social life was incredibly active and the opportunity to have sex with world class athletes and their beautiful partners was very exciting to a girl from Springfield, Massachusetts.”
The slide showed moved swiftly through a series of images of oversized men dancing and drinking with attractive women. There was a slide of a nude Grace kneeling in front of another giant black man. She was smiling at the camera as she passed her tongue over his cock.
“Matt and I were young and we eagerly joined in the lifestyle until tragedy struck.”
The next slide was from the Atlanta Constitution sports page. The headline read, ‘Broadhurst Hurt in Practice’.
“But our life in the NFL ended unexpectedly. Matt sustained a knee injury that left him barely able to walk let alone play football. I was pregnant with Justin when we sold our home in Atlanta and moved back to Boston. Matt joined a securities firm and began training to get his broker’s license.
He’s certainly good looking enough thought Stacy as a picture of Matt dressed in a business suit appeared on the screen.
“Matt had a difficult time adapting to a world without football. He became depressed and started to drink. That was when he began to take out his frustrations on me,” said Grace as the screen displayed a picture of Grace lying in a hospital bed with a black eye.
“One of the ER nurses at Brigham and Women’s took this the first time he beat me up. She wanted to use it as evidence. She urged me to go to the police but I refused. Matt begged me to forgive him. He blamed the alcohol. He told he would lose his job and our livelihood if he were arrested. And he didn’t hit me again until the following Christmas.”
“Christ,” whispered Stacy under her breath at the next image of what she assumed was Grace. Both her eyes were swollen shut and almost her entire face was bruised. The fingers of her left hand were in some sort of cast.
“How awful,” whispered Larry squeezing Stacy’s thigh.
“He broke my jaw and knocked out two of my teeth. He cracked several ribs and bent my fingers back until they snapped. I drove myself to the hospital after Matt came home drunk Christmas Eve and for no reason beat me senseless. I woke up covered in blood. He was passed out on the kitchen floor. A policeman at the ER took this picture as evidence but I foolishly refused to sign a complaint. The head nurse told me if I didn’t divorce Matt, the next time I might as well bypass the ER and go directly to the morgue. That was where women who stayed with batterers ended up.”
The slide changed to what Stacy assumed was a barbecue in Grace’s backyard. It was a typical suburban scene of Matt standing at the grill with his arm around Grace. Both were smiling at the camera. There were several other couples near by.
“I threatened to leave Matt unless he sought help. He joined a theraphy group for batterers and for two years he behaved. Matt resumed his love for photography and I was his model.”
The next several slides were of Grace posed in what Stacy considered glamour shots. She had not lost her figure in spite of having two children. The images began with Grace in a white nightgown but quickly changed to her lying naked in front of the fireplace.
Stacy recalled one of the girls in her school had gone to a photographer who specialized in pictures of wet lipped females dressed in revealing negligees. Her pictures had also ended in total nudity.
“Remember when Kendall Crawford had her glamour pictures made,” whispered Traci? “Her parents like to have died.”
“They grounded her for a month,” said Stacy.
“If there are any pictures of you like that, I would love to have a copy,” whispered Stewart.
“They’re aren’t. Traci and I went to high school together. One of our classmates had a sleazy professional photographer make revealing shots of her. She brought them to school to show her best friend but somebody stole them from her locker. The thief scanned the nude ones and emailed them to everyone including the faculty,” said Stacy recalling that Stacy Does Cambridge made Grace’s videos seem very tame.
“Must have caused a stir,’ said Stewart.
“It was all we talked about for a month,” said Stacy. And they weren’t as explicit as Grace’s.”
“When Matt asked me to pose with our collection of adult toys, I readily agreed. I was so pleased he was controlling his anger, I would have done anything to keep him happy,” said Grace as the screen showed a totally nude Grace seated in a Queen Anne chair with her legs over the arms. The next shot showed her in the same position but holding a vibrator against her clitoris.
“Do you have a vibrator, Stacy,” whispered Larry?
“Several, and I change batteries often,” said Stacy.
“Our sex life veered in a new direction, but once again, I went along because I liked the sex and it kept Matt happy,” said Grace. Behind her, the screen was filled with a video clip of Grace and another woman engaged in lesbian sex. “That’s my next door neighbor, Christine. Matt loved to film me with other women and even some of his male friends.”
The clip changed to show Grace on all fours being taken from the rear while another man was thrusting his cock in her mouth. Grace was moaning each time they thrust inside her. “That’s Matt’s co-workers, Sam and Cameron, taking me to the moon. As you can tell from my moans, I was having a great time. And our sex life wasn’t all about me.”
On screen, the next clip showed Matt lying back in a chair as Grace and Christine orally shared his large cock.
“I thought Matt and I were beyond our problems. Our children were healthy and growing. Out sex life was exciting. Matt was becoming a successful stockbroker and seemed to have adjusted at last to a life without football. He was coaching Justin’s soccer team. But it was not to last. Memorial Day weekend, we had a fight and he threw me downstairs. I broke my arm.”
A picture of Grace with her arm in a cast filled the screen.
“When I told him I was divorcing him, he threatened to kill me and the children. He said he would drown them in the bathtub while I watched then do the same with me. I was terrified so I didn’t leave. Things went back to the way they were. We joined a swinger’s group in Georgetown that was very active.”
The next slide was of Grace and Matt in a resort swimming pool with several dozen others. Everyone was nude.
“This was taken at an Adult Lifestyle Week in Cabo San Lucas,” said Grace.
The slide show progressed to show Grace and Matt eating dinner, dancing, and having group sex.
“I think everyone here would agree I gave everything to my marriage. I didn’t hold back anything when it came to our sex life. Matt had no reason to be dissatisfied,” said Grace.
“I wish my wife had Grace’s attitude,” said Larry. “Natalie has zero interest in our sex life.”
“All mine cares about are our two children. She’s already plotting to get them into some special pre-school with connections to the Ivy League,” said Stewart.
Once again, a slide of a badly beaten Grace appeared on screen.
“It was soon after we returned from Cabo, Matt put me back in the ER. Something at work made him mad and he decided to take it out on me. Facial contusions and broken ribs along with a crushed nose were my major injuries.”
“Athletes are the worst, especially football players. It’s a violent sport,” said Stewart.
“Thank God the ER nurses overruled me when I lied to the police. I said I had accidentally fallen down the basemen stairs. Irene Casey, a dear sweet woman I’m proud to call my friend, contacted Women In Harm’s Way and they quickly took action. They whisked my children and me away to a safe house. For the first time, I filed a complaint with the police and had Matt arrested. He’s still on probation. There’s a restraining order preventing him from coming within two hundred yards of my family or me. I promised to keep this short so I won’t go into how over a period of several years I found my independence, returned to the workplace and eventually met and married a wonderful man.”
“It’s truly wonderful how Women In Harm’s Way has helped abused wives like Grace,” said Stacy.
The last slide was labeled Charles and Grace. It showed a nude couple. Grace and a man Stacy assumed was her new husband were standing side-by-side smiling at the camera. Although smaller in statue than Grace’s first husband, his cock appeared to be the same size or larger.
“I thank each and every one of you for your support of this wonderful organization,” said Grace concluding her presentation to sustained applause.
“How would you react, Stacy, if you had been Grace,” asked Stewart as everyone was applauding the presentation?
“The first time he hit me, I would have waited until he went to sleep. He’d wake up with me sitting on his chest with my nine-millimeter semi-automatic in his mouth. I wouldn’t pull the trigger immediately. I’d give him a few seconds to realize what was about to happen and pee his pants. I’d want him to be afraid when he died just like I had been afraid when he hit me. Then I’d empty the magazine in his skull,” said Stacy calmly.
“Christ, the way you said that, I believe you’d really do it,” said Larry.
“Stacy is an Olympic markswoman and an expert with both rifles and handguns,” said Portia as the room went dark. “Plus, she’d blow the bastards head off without hesitating.”
***
Stacy sensed movement in the pitch dark. It was an opportunity for Larry and Stewart to feel her up again and they took it. By the time, the drumming began; both men had a forefinger in her vagina. Stacy welcomed the intrusion by inhaling her navel to her spine contracting her vaginal walls as she turned to first Stewart and then Larry to deliver passionate French kisses.
The drums grew louder. A single spotlight suddenly illuminated two black men pounding on several different types of drums establishing a powerful hypnotic rhythm.
A different larger circle in the center of the room suddenly illuminated Leslie Cabot. Five lean black men surrounded her. Leslie was dressed in a rather complicated collection of brightly colored sheer material.
They must be professional dancers decided Stacy noting the zero body fat of the male dancers. They were wearing the minimum, a dance strap that covered their cocks and provided a narrow strip of material separating their muscular buttocks.
“It’s Leslie’s interpretation of Salome’s Dance of the Seven Veils,” whispered Traci. “I hope it goes all right. She’s been rehearsing for weeks.”
“Where are the dancer’s from,” asked Portia feeling an attraction to the well-proportioned male physiques heightened by the way Doug and Tony were running their hands over her body?
“They’re from a company in Boston that’s just starting out. Leslie is going to help them raise money. They are marvelously talented,” said Traci.
Leslie danced slowly and sensuously with the men in the widening circle of light. She must have studied ballet and modern dance decided Stacy watching as Leslie whirled by revealing that underneath the sheer material she was naked. As she danced, her male partners began to remove her costume snatching off a veil as she twirled and spun while the men caressed her increasingly naked body.
Each time, Leslie danced around the room she had less on. Finally she was left naked and alone in the middle of the floor. Stacy realized her nipples and her labia were darkened with make-up.
The male dancers vanished. This is definitely erotic thought Stacy as she watched Leslie spread her legs and masturbate using the beat of the drums to establish a staccato rhythm for inserting several fingers in her vagina as she reached behind to penetrate her anus.
Seconds later, the male dancers returned fully nude and erect to the bright circle of light. A cock ring maintained their erections. Long sleek ebony penises swayed over Leslie as she lay on the floor stroking her clitoris as she finger fucked. She lifted her body arching her back to bring her lips to kiss each penis.
“Christ, this is so fucking erotic,” said Traci as her partners ran their hands over her half naked body.
Stacy lifted her hips slightly as she pulled her dress up to her waist. She deftly squeezed lotion on the palm of each hand then reached under the table to take hold of Stewart and Larry’s cocks.
“You are so fucking wet,” breathed Larry in her ear as his fingers along with Stewarts entered her vagina.
“Oh God, that’s good,” moaned Stacy as two sets of fingers raked across her G-spot.
“I want to feel your bare tits,” said Stewart taking hold of the zipper in back of Stacy’s dress.
She obliged by leaning forward to allow him to pull the zipper down to the center of her back. Stewart and he pulled the dress off her shoulders and arms exposing her breasts. Around her in the dark, she sensed the other hostesses were being stripped. Stacy climaxed as the men’s mouth captured her nipples while they fingered her sex.
“You came,” asked Larry correctly interpreting the muscular contractions of the walls of her vagina?
“Yes, and I plan to keep on coming,” said Stacy allowing her contractions to continue.
“You are certainly programmed different from any woman I’ve ever fucked,” said Stewart watching as Leslie moved her mouth rapidly from one black cock to another maintaining the rhythm of the drums.
“Different as in better,” asked Stacy?
“Different as in fantastic,” said Stewart.
The drums stopped and the lighting changed to show something that resembled a trapeze harness being lowered from the ceiling. As soon as it reached the dancers they lifted Leslie up and put her in the harness. She was suspended in the air, spread like a starfish on her back when one of the dancers stepped between her outstretched legs and impaled her without hesitation.
The cadence of the drums increased until the man’s body was a blur. Then it ceased and another dancer took his place. Once they had all had their individual turns, they began to work in pairs. The crown of Leslie’s head hung toward the floor as the dancer filled her throat with his cock. A second dancer slipped his penis in her vagina. Both responded to the drums fucking her with abandon as they pulled and kneaded her breasts.
“I hope they don’t fuck her to death,” said Doug as Portia’s stroked his lotion covered cock.
“Leslie can handle it. She’s enjoying herself,” said Traci.
“You girls have redefined the word slut for me,” said Doug pinching Portia’s nipple.
“Super sluts,” said Portia hissing her pleasure as his nails crushed her tender flesh.
“Yeah, super sluts, that’s it,’ said Doug twisting Portia’s nipples as he pinched them. The way Portia squirmed in pain increased his excitement. “Does that hurt, Portia?”
“Yes,” breathed Portia determined to draw pleasure from her agony.
“Want me to stop,” asked Doug?
“No,” said Portia bringing her lips to Doug’s.
Abruptly, the drumming ended. The room went dark for a brief moment. A spotlight illuminated the two massive male figures who had just entered the room. A gasp went up from the crowd.
“I feel faint,” said Traci licking her lips as she stared at their manhood.
Stacy immediately recognized Ellis. But she did not recognize the black man standing with him. Both men were erect and enormous. The black man was approximately the same height and build of Ellis. He also possessed a cock that rivaled Ellis’. The spotlight followed the men as they moved into the center of the room.
When they reached a certain point, Leslie became illuminated. She remained suspended in the harness; but she was no longer spread wide like a starfish. Bent double, her bottom was pointed toward the floor. Her arms and the soles of her feet were directed toward the ceiling
“Ever taken a cock that big,” asked Stewart?
“Yes,” said Stacy unwilling to take her eyes off Leslie.
“Did it hurt,” asked Stewart?
“Yes, but in a good way,” said Stacy. “My asshole and pussy were sore the next day.”
The drum cadence was slow and muted as the two giants approached Leslie. They began by slowly running their hands over her body. They weren’t gentle as they twisted and kneaded her breasts causing her to cry out in pain.
As the drumming gained strength, Ellis angled Leslie allowing his partner to place the end of his cock just inside her vagina. The partner then tilted Leslie permitting Ellis to place his penis against the center of her sphincter.
“Hope they don’t split her open,” said Stewart.
“They won’t,” said Stacy.
There was an increase in tempo then a brief hesitation at the end of which both men simultaneously forced their penises inside Leslie. Leslie sounded a loud cry of pain and joy as both cocks reached maximum depth and the two pair of grapefruit sized testicles slapped together.
“This is fucking awesome,” said Portia watching transfixed as both men began to slam their manhood into Leslie’s orifices. Once again, as the drum cadence grew, the men quickened their pace until their bodies were a blur.
All of a sudden, the two climaxed filling Leslie’s holes. They withdrew at the same time. Two thin streams of semen made twin puddles on the floor.
“That’s an incredible amount of jism,” said Stewart.
“It’s stagecraft,” said Stacy realizing that some form of trickery must be involved.
The lights went out. When they came back on, Leslie was standing by herself in the center of the room. The two men and the sling were gone. She bowed to each table as the room applauded her performance.
***
As Leslie exited the DJ queued the Black Eyed Peas hit, ‘Let’s Get It Started In Here’. The wait staff arrived carrying enough exercise mats to cover the floor of the rectangle formed by the tables.
Stacy stood up, reached back to fully unzip her dress allowing it to fall to the floor.
“Let’s get naked,” said Stacy unbuckling Stewart’s belt. Around her, clothes were being rapidly shed. Moments later, she was kneeling between both men with their cocks in her hand. They stood close as she formed her lips over both working her tongue from one to the other with a passion that increased their arousal.
The men leaned down to grab and tease her nipples.
“Skull fuck me, Larry,” said Stacy flattening her tongue and opening her mouth wide. Using his buttocks for leverage, she forced his cock into her throat.
“I’m in her fucking throat,” whispered Larry to Stewart. “I’m actually in her fucking throat.”
“Now you, Stewart,” said Stacy pulling Larry’s penis out of her mouth. Saliva cascaded over her lower lip down on to her breasts.
“Shit, she’s incredible,” said Stewart when he felt the walls of Stacy’s throat pressing in on his cock.
“You two ready to fuck me now,” asked Stacy?
They answered by lifting her over the table onto the mats. Stacy pushed the larger Larry to the floor then quickly mounted him easily sliding his manhood into her well-lubricated vagina.
“The backdoor is open,” said Stacy looking over her shoulder at Stewart as she reached back to spread her buttocks using her glutes to flex her sphincter open and closed.
Mission accomplished concluded Stacy when she felt Stewart’s cock force its way past her sphincter. He drove his penis inward until his balls landed on the top of Larry’s cock. Carole had suggested the hostesses engage in double penetration at the outset to set the anything goes tone for the rest of the evening.
“Fuck the shit out of me,” hissed Stacy giving free reign to her lust as she had so many times at the Posse’s apartment. Sounding a cry of triumph, Stacy contracted the muscles of her vagina and rectum simultaneously as she pulled her nipples out and twisted them.
The piles of naked bodies on the mat increased as others joined.
I am now officially an orgiast realized Portia as she rocked back and forth with Doug’s cock in her pussy and Larry’s in her ass. Suddenly, there was a cock in her face. Without hesitation, she took it into her mouth. It stayed for a while then moved away no doubt seeing another oral cavity to sample.
It wasn’t too long before Stewart climaxed in her ass and rolled off her. Larry lasted only a minute longer.
Stacy grabbed a champagne bottle off the table and removed the cork. She placed her thumb over the top, shook it, and then inserted it in her vagina as she removed her thumb. She felt the gaseous liquid explode into her.
Kneeling down on her haunches, she positioned her opening in front of Stewart’s mouth.
“Open up,” said Stacy pulling his mouth to her sex.
Caught in the sheer depravity of the moment, Stewart placed his mouth over Stacy’s opening as she sprayed champagne. Empty, she stepped up on the table grabbing another bottle of champagne. She shook the bottle then refilled her vagina.
“Anyone else wants a champagne pussy cocktail,” asked Stacy as she danced on the table?
There were dozens of takers. Stacy stepped over women and men coupling indiscriminately on the mat. Stacy grabbed another champagne bottle and stuck the neck in her ass. She bent over in a wide stance shaking her butt to the music causing the freshly opened bottle to spew into her rectum. She removed the bottle keeping her sphincter closed as she danced to where she was directly in front of Doug who had just released in Portia’s pussy.
“Open up, Doug,” said Stacy. “And drink from the dark well of my ass.”
Doug placed his open mouth on Stacy’s butthole as she let the gasified contents escape in a rush.
“Suck my hole dry, Douglas,” encouraged Stacy as she felt Doug drinking down the content of her rectum.
Stacy moved down the table dancing provocatively as Doug turned to Kendra to share his mouthful of champagne. At some point, several men grabbed Stacy off the table pulling her down to the mat in a pile of naked writhing bodies. For the next three hours, Stacy was never without a cock in one of her orifices.
It was later Carole organized sex games. Her and Leslie’s goal was to make sure each of the sixty four men got to sample all of the women. Portia and Traci were first in what Carole called the Sixty Nine Lineup. Sixteen pairs of females were lying on the mat in a single line. Portia started in the superior position licking Traci’s clit as a fluid coated penis slid into her vagina. Someone was at Portia’s rear, alternating his cock between her vagina, rectum and Traci’s mouth. A surprisingly fully clothed Carole screamed, “Switch,” every two minutes and the men would shift over to the next pair.
“Suck it bitch,” said the man pulling his manhood out of the hostess’s anus and presenting it to Stacy’s lips.
This is about as close to a Roman orgy as I can imagine thought Stacy as she accepted the cock in her mouth. She had no idea who was on top of her, whose cock she was sucking, or who at the moment was pounding his prick in her pussy.
The men powered by the most powerful erectile dysfunction drugs modern science could create were showing no sign of wearing out. Body fluids covered the participants. Sweat, semen, spit, and female secretions blended together created a slippery coating that allowed the naked bodies to glide over one another. The air became fetid and the overpowering stench of human lust filled the room clinging to their bodies.
“Open our mouth,” said the man kneeling at Portia’s head. Moments before he had formed his lips over Traci’s well-fucked anus and sucked out the contents. Portia knew what was coming but did not hesitate to comply.
Caligula and Tiberius would have felt right at home here thought Portia as she felt the warm liquid fill her mouth.
On the other end of the sixty-nine, Traci regularly found her mouth full of dick freshly withdrawn from Portia’s open sphincter. Traci considered ass to mouth action her greatest turn on. There was something about sucking a cock that seconds before had been buried deep in another girl’s rectum that brought out the depraved savage in her. She along with the other hostesses reveled in the depravity of the orgy as each competed to gain their pleasure in the most perverted and animalistic fashion.
Only total physical exhaustion ended the orgy. “Can’t fuck any more,” said the man on top of Stacy before he passed out. Thanks to a coating of body fluids, she managed to squirm out from under him. A survey of the room revealed no movement. The mat was covered with naked bodies huddled together against the coolness of the night.
Stacy struggled to her feet using a table for support. Dawn shown through the enormous stained glass windows. Tired to the bone, dizzy and slightly nauseated, she looked around for Portia. Unable to locate her, she staggered to her room where she found her and Traci curled up around fat Doug. His bulk left barely enough room in the bed for her to lie down and spoon with Portia. She was asleep in seconds. Before she slept she expressed silent admiration for the ancient Roman’s ability to orgy night after night.
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