The woman slowly comes down from her flight. She leans her head back and I feel her soft cheek against my own as she gains some composure. She sighs, and her lips brush past my skin. I’m gonna rip through these jeans soon!
‘That was’—she takes an enormous breath—‘wow!’
Colleen says nothing. She’s in fuck-mode now, and knows she can dispel with the niceties. She stands up, walks over to her handbag, squats so we can both see her gorgeous peach-round ass sticking out (and brown balls hanging low), and starts rummaging for something. ‘Here they are!’ she exclaims, holding a few strips of golden packets in the air; then she struts towards us, her rigid member swaying with her glorious hips. She drops back down between our legs.
‘I haven’t introduced you guys, have I?’ Colleen says. I feel her hand graze against my crotch, and wonder if I’m about to get a little action myself.
‘No, you haven’t,’ the waitress says with a shaky laugh.
I hear my fly unzip and my wife’s nimble fingers work their way into the opening. She caresses me through the fabric of my underwear. God that feels good! She then sneaks through the “easy-access” hole at the front of my briefs (I’m glad I wore this pair today!), and the feeling of skin-against-skin as she wraps her hand around me sends lightning up my back and I shudder like an old machine.
She promptly extricates my dick and it can finally stretch to its full size in the open; the relief is almost unbearable after being crushed in my pants. And then gripping me by the base, she taps the topside against something hot and wet: the waitress. ‘James, meet Amanda,’ she says, drumming and rubbing our bits together. ‘Amanda, meet my husband, James.’
I hear something rustle, then a rubber rolls down my cock with fast, double-handed precision. I guess I’m going in first. Bonus! Colleen must want me to warm up the waitress—er, Amanda—for her.
Amanda takes the cue, and arches her body to improve my angle of attack. I’m already at maximum excitement, but Colleen decides I still need some revving up and takes me into her mouth for a couple of deep, toe-curling sucks; she then rubs me quickly from side to side between the blonde’s lips. The condom is thin; I can feel every surface, every ridge.
Amanda groans and turns her head to face me again. ‘Hi James, it’s nice to meet you,’ she whispers. Her bright green eyes are hypnotic, especially at this range, and she’s giving me an impish smile. Her hips lift off my body. She presses down onto my cockhead.
‘It’s lovely to meet you... Amanda,’ I manage as her entrance mercilessly gives way, and her long body descends in one agonising movement, swallowing me whole. ‘Ugh!’ she grunts in my ear, and stays there with me deep inside, savouring my modest (compared to Colleen) eight inches of hard flesh.
My hairless balls are captured by Colleen’s greedy mouth as Amanda raises herself off me. I watch her toned back through the loose singlet, as well as her round ass, which cushions against me perfectly as she settles back down, filling herself with dick.
Colleen releases my testicles, and her tongue travels up my exposed length, before—I assume—attacking the waitress’s lips and clit. Amanda yowls. Yep, she’s getting the double treatment! My wife’s tongue slides up and down between us as the waitress glides effortlessly in a large circle—forward, up, back, down—a stupendous Ferris wheel of pussy.
I don’t wait too long before I give her legs a break (because, of course, I’m a gentleman). I stop her from rising by pulling down on her hot flank. I lift her legs up, stretching her thighs right back, and the weight of her shoulders and back press down on me. I then drive straight up, hard; again, and again; speeding up. I pound her walls from the inside while Colleen lashes with her skillful tongue on the outside. ‘Oh shit!’ Amanda cries out, her voice juddering from the impacts. ‘You guys are fucking amazing!’
I settle into a nice, comfortable rhythm—not too fast, not too slow—one that I could continue all day without cumming, but one that would cripple most ordinary girls if they took it for too long. But Colleen seems to think I’ve already had enough, or she doesn’t want me to wear her prize out: she extracts my muscle from the woman (who protests with an ‘Oh, fuck!’—she was probably pretty close to her second flight).
‘Hold her there for me, baby,’ she tells me. I look down at Colleen and notice she has secretly, somehow, managed to install one of her jumbo condoms while tonguing our grinding privates. I did say she has talents!
I do as requested, holding her legs tight. Colleen then shimmies on her knees towards the waitress and me. She no longer looks sweet and cute, but rather slightly savage and demented: her wide eyes are focused on the waitress’s face; her lips are drawn back like a wolf before an attack; her hands grip her weapon, guiding it forward.
‘Is that even going to... fit?’ Amanda says nervously. ‘It’s so frickin’ big!’
‘I guess we’ll find out,’ says the animal disguised as my wife.
I move my hands down to assist, separating the blonde’s plump, delicate folds. Hardness slides between my fingers (and against the side of my cock, which is hanging around down there until needed), and Amanda’s labia depresses from the force of the giant head until it finally gives in and allows a tight entry; and again she tries crawling backwards away from Colleen’s gifts. ‘Holy fuck!’ I press my forehead against her shoulder, and my thighs squeeze her hips to keep her in place. ‘Oh my god!’ she shrieks.
Colleen burrows deeper. I can picture the dark skin gliding gracefully into its pink home.
I actually have a gut-feeling this waitress might like her cervix massaged. Some do, and some don’t; but Colleen has... sort of sixth sense about vaginas, and rarely does she let any of them down, or inflict too much pain. She’s definitely going deep, that’s for sure! Her hanging balls have reached mine, and are giving them a tender kiss.
‘Oh shit! Yes!’ My wife has bottomed out. I can tell because Amanda’s hips have lifted into the air, while the rest of her body has wilted onto me as if she turned into a half-filled bag of water. She immediately starts sobbing. Removing my hands from her stretched hole, I wrap them around her chest and stomach, comforting her as she experiences this new level of sensation. I’ve witnessed this before, many times, and there’s something kind of spiritual about it: an awakening of sorts. And it’s best to just be there for support.
‘Feels good, right?’ I whisper in her ear.
‘Ah huh...’ she groans, somewhat inebriated (she may have trouble holding plates when she gets back to work).
Her body flinches when Colleen finally draws back fully and leaves a vast internal chasm.
‘Actually, honey, can you pick her up for me? This ground isn’t comfy.’
Before she finishes her sentence, I’m already up into a sitting position. I wedge my feet under myself and press against the floor, raising both of us into the air—and the guys at the gym wonder why I work so hard on leg strength and flexibility! I hold Amanda up by her long stems, relishing those taut hamstrings.
The new position inexplicably brings renewed energy into the blonde. ‘Come here, you sexy bitch!’ she says to the exotic woman in front of her. She wraps her arms around Colleen’s neck and pulls her in for a passionate kiss; and is greeted with just as much fire. Colleen pushes hard against us; my back thumps against the cold, tiled wall behind; her sausage invades the space between my legs.
She then backs away from the sloppy kiss, grips the waitress’s shirt by the collar, and rips it down with brutal force. It disintegrates. The shreds hang off her svelte shoulders. Noooo! Not the Nirvana shirt! Oh well, Amanda doesn’t seem to mind; she just kisses Colleen again. Their soft bodies press together. I imagine their boobs becoming inseparable and supportive friends, always willing to lend a hard nipple. Man I wish I had a hand free!
I do have something else that’s free at the moment. While they’re busy smooching and squeezing, I do an incredibly sneaky thing: I lower the waitress slightly, and angle my hips upward. My begging tool leverages between the two beautiful women. It finds its wet mark, and I delve into the blonde again. She squeals into Colleen’s mouth, giving my game away; I waste no time though, and fuck her hard and deep while my balls drape on either side of Colleen’s intrusive cock.
‘Having fun, are we?’ Colleen’s bright brown eyes have appeared beside the waitress. Her lips are pursed and accusing. I just flash her a cheeky smile and thrust harder, up into the girl between us. ‘Oh, it’s like that, is it?’ I’ve poked the bear. She grips the waitress’s hair and bends her head down to her level, staring into her eyes. ‘Who do you want inside you, Amanda?’ she says with deadly seriousness: ‘That miniscule man-penis? Or this giant ladycock?’
Damn, that’s harsh! Like I said: she’s an animal when it’s sex-time.
‘I want you,’ Amanda the traitor moans to my wife, even as I plough her perfectly. ‘I want your huge dick inside me again!’
‘Sorry, Sweetie,’ Colleen says to me around the side of the woman; a wicked smile smeared on her pretty face. (She's seriously not a bitch; we just like to play with our food...)
Her hard helmet immediately presses into Amanda’s entrance, and against my thrusting meat. The pressure causes Amanda to yelp loudly, but there’s nowhere near enough space for both of us, and I’m instantly ejected from the slippery slit while something longer and thicker replaces me.
This time, Amanda’s body doesn’t go limp, even when Colleen takes most of her weight onto her rod. This time, she goes crazy. Wrapping one arm around my head, and the other around Colleen’s, her hips slam into overdrive, humping the couple-sandwich. Skin slaps and slips. She makes the most terrific noises between the cries of ‘Fuck me fuck me fuck me!’ and ‘Oh god, split me in half!’ She’s taking to this new feeling of her snatch being completely overfilled. Colleen holds onto my body, crushing the sandwich together and pumping against the blonde’s movements.
Amanda’s convulsions come quickly. I’m sucking and biting her neck, and her cries have fallen to silence; her wild humping has stopped; the muscles in her legs jolt through my fingers. Moments later, a long, high wail fills the small bathroom: ‘AaaaaaaaAAAAAGGHHH!’ And then it rains—warm fluid runs down my balls and legs, soaking my singlet on the floor below.
‘Good girl,’ Colleen tells her, groping the waitress’s soft breasts and pounding us both into the wall. ‘Good girl. You’re starting to like us, aren’t you?’
No answer comes from the quivering female. The deluge dies to a drizzle.
Go to >>>> PART THREE