Suburban Style Ch. 02

The evening's activities so far brought us to the unlikely point of standing around the drink table in Ted and Cheryl's house, like any small suburban cocktail party, except these five couples were naked and blatantly aroused—cocks horizontal and pussies glistening.

The ending of the first round of adult games seemed to throw a blanket of uncertainty over the group. My wife's and Terrence's encounter of interracial coitus interruptus was amusing, but at the public expense of Terrence. Still, the performance obviously served as an aphrodisiac, which further added to the awkwardness of this refreshment break. There was no ignoring all those stiff rods pointing out from the guys. No one made any sudden moves—women out of ingrained propriety and decorum, men from reflexive homophobic fears of bumping swords.

Despite the swirl of emotions, the scene looked great. Sexy Sally seemed the most poised, wearing her exposed pulchritude like a set of store-bought clothes. Her partner Bill beamed next to her, the side of his narrow hips resting against hers. Cute little Nora in her blonde ponytail stood next to Jason, his mind-boggling dick looking almost as long as Nora was tall. Terrence's member still stood proud despite its humiliation, beside Pam's tower of dark skin topped by her gorgeous bright red lips and short tousle of tight braids. Cheryl basked the success of her event so far, her light, petite body contrasting with Ted's dark, hairy Mediterranean torso. The antics of the last three couples had restored the rigidity to my cock after Cheryl had sucked the life out of it. And next to me, my wife Dina's small black-rimmed eyeglasses added another level of eroticism to her large, swaying breasts and patch of fur between her legs.

It wasn't long before the stilted conversation tapered and we all started moving back to our places on the floor for what Cheryl had promised would be "Round 2."

But not before Cheryl called to Bill, saying, "Bill, you can stay standing and go to the head of the class. You're next."

Bill let out a whoop and cha-cha'd over to the couch, with lots of exaggerated wiggling of his square ass. He spun around, cock waggling in front of him and announced, "I need a woman up here."

Cheryl chirped, "Uh, Pam, I'm afraid it's your turn."

Pam raised herself from the floor, using her right hand to balance herself on Terrence's shoulder, and stood next to Bill. She clasped her hands behind her, which straightened her back, raised her boobs, and pushed her pelvis toward us ever so slightly, but very noticeably. She twisted her body back and forth in a cute, shy, nervous tic.

"See anything you like?" she smiled at Bill.

"Plenty," Bill cackled. "But for now, how about a titty fuck?"

Pam didn't flinch. "Ooh, a breast man."

"Very astute," said Bill. "I know I like vanilla, but I thought I'd try some chocolate."

"So that'll be two scoops with nuts, then?" quipped Pam, smiling impishly as she continued swiveling her shoulders and torso.

The room filled with laughter, not because Pam's comeback was especially funny, but because its lightness offered a chance for emotional relief by bringing into the open the unspoken racial discomfort that had been smoldering since the spicy teasing between Terence's black cock and Dina's white pussy.

Not even Bill had a comeback as Pam went gracefully down to her knees to face his enthusiasm. She raised her left hand to cradle her left breast, elongating the nearly perfect sphere, and used her lengthening and hardening nipple to draw tiny circles in the precum coating the tip of his cock. Bill closed his eyes, and put his hands on his hips, and hummed, "Umm Hmm," as Pam switched hands and nipples to continue the tweaking.

Bill cried, "Oh, baby," as his erection started twitching, bobbing like a diving board.

"Would you lie down for me," Bill gasped, fighting to keep his voice even.

Pam smiled at his struggle. "Certainly, your stiffness," she teased, and stretched her long, lean, brownness on the floor in front of the couch.

Her breasts somehow kept their shape, rising above her torso like twin Everests. Her hands lay straight and flat at her side, making her look invitingly defenseless as the dark curls covering the top of her genitals seemed to advertise, "Poke Here."

Incredibly, Bill didn't act on the invitation to come inside, as he planted a knee on each side of Pam's ribs, grabbed his dick and rubbed it over Pam's peaks, not missing a square centimeter, from the foothills at her chest and belly to the dark rings at the summit. When his cock and hand finished exploring, Bill laid his engorgement between Pam's mountains, placed his palms on the floor and straightened his arms and body as though ready for a round of pushups. Pam yanked a pillow from the couch and stuffed it under her head for a better viewing angle, then moved her hands to her tits, pushing them together, smothering Bill's bloated appendage. Still holding himself off the ground, Bill started moving his chiseled butt up and down over Pam's chest, as his penis slid rhythmically, back and forth through the valley between Pam's mammaries. He started a stream of mindless but sincere banter, "Oh, that's so great, oh, that's it, oh, yes.

The repetitions continued to the point of being hypnotic, until at some point Bill's babbling changed to a panicked, "This is it," and in three quick little jerks he popped out a series of white pellets that traveled the short distance to land around the base of Pam's throat. Bill paused briefly before several more ejaculations forced their way from his tube, leaving a string of white dots contrasting against Pam's chest. Pam squeezed her boobs into Bill's fury, until he groaned, "OK, that's it," and flipped himself onto his back between Pam and the couch, his pecker rapidly shriveling into his loins.

Pam only dawdled a couple seconds before rolling over and sitting up onto Bill's pubes. She looked down at him over her nipples and asked, "Happy?" Bill just grunted and Pam said, "Well, my work here is done," and she took her place by a smirking Terrence, admiring his wife who wore only what did look very much like a strand of pearls. "You like my new jewelry?" she asked her husband as she batted her eyes at him.

Cheryl only gave Bill a few more seconds of recovery time before saying, "OK lazy bones, move that gorgeous ass. It's Sally's turn."

My emotional whipsawing was getting dizzying as I tried to switch from the fascination of watching the snow-speckling of Pam's sturdy hillsides to seeing Sally rise and jiggle her softer and larger tits to the front of the room.

I had to concentrate to keep from chanting out loud, "Pick me, pick me." So as I gaped at the model-perfect form on display, I almost missed her command, "Greg, get up here."

I have no memory of my wife's or anyone else's reaction as I stood, nude, nearly touching the object of my fantasies for the years since I first saw her. Sally turned to face me, her hip pushing my boner somewhat uncomfortably to the side, flattened her massive boobs against my torso, looked into my eyes and said, "Fuck me Greg. Fuck me doggie style."

Without another word or hesitation she went down to the floor on all fours.

Many times in my life I've thought, "this can't be happening," but never had I felt it so strongly as I looked down at the soft, cello-shaped back of the goddess who had just asked, no, ordered, me to put my sex organ into hers.

As I stood with my woodie waving over Sally's backside, I started to realize another layer of significance in my situation. What Sally had in mind wasn't just fun with body parts. The party's action was moving farther than anyone had gone that night, into real sex—making love, screwing, the real deal. At the end of the rows of our naked friends I saw Dina with an inscrutable expression. Was she cross, scared, apprehensive, or maybe excited? We'd agreed that we wouldn't carry any resentments from the evening's activities, but we hadn't been specific about what would be allowed. Maybe she assumed neither of us would actually fuck someone else's partner. The truncated encounter she'd engaged in with Terrence showed that maybe she assumed neither of us would actually be exchanging fluids and orgasms with someone else's loins. Maybe I should call this off. Was this what Cheryl meant by someone being asked to go too far? I could say "no" and it would mean "no."

But I wasn't about to spend the rest of my life knowing I'd passed on permission to poke Sally Fullerton, even if that permission seemed tentative.

So I kneeled before the altar of her round rear end, my cock bouncing between her cheeks. Before getting to the main event though, I decided to indulge myself. I ran my hands across her rump and up the curve of her waist. I leaned over her back and reached around for handfuls of her dangling breasts, working intently to commit to memory how they molded compliantly to my fingers, and the feel in my fingertips as they sensed the roughness of her areole and how she flinched as I felt up the hard, rounded points of her nipples.

Sally loudly cleared her throat and said, "Have you forgotten why we're down here?"

"I just thought I'd take the scenic route," I said, raising a few snickers from the spectators.

"Well don't get lost," Sally scolded.

"Not likely," I replied, inching backward and bending my head down to locate the dark and damp oval between her legs.

I found myself hoping this doggie style thing was like riding a bicycle, because I'd entered Dina from behind only once, and long before we were married. That made me flash back to her strange expression right now and just a few feet away— furrowed brows and half smile. I still wasn't sure what it meant, but was surprised and pleased that the thought of Dina's reaction, whatever it meant, send a jot of further hardening in my groin.

I aimed myself and advanced on Sally. I felt my lower belly rest against her as I grabbed my wiener and probed. Her labia offered a tiny, peasant resistance as my peeled-back foreskin passed, and I was inside Sally. We moaned at the same time as I eased my cock all the way inside, feeling the smallest of pressure around the base of my rod, while the rest just seemed suspended in the warm waters of her chamber. I pushed myself fully against her to more moaning from both of us, and stayed there for several seconds. Then I pulled back nearly all the way, feeling my foreskin tingle as it bumped over her labial folds. It felt so good I went all the way in and came out again. And again. And again. Sally's moans got shorter and louder. Her hips started rotating in a way that transfixed me and took control of my actions. I shortened and quickened my strokes until we developed an easy pace, sliding my cock deep into her vagina, then halfway out before resuming the cycle. Her body rocked forward and back on her hands and knees in unison with my thrusting, her mass of curls hanging toward the floor and swaying with their own separate rhythm.

I remember thinking I wanted to die like this when fire broke out inside Sally. My pumping lengthened, quickened, and became more violent as I completely lost control. I reared back and tried to jam myself into her as deeply as I could, reloading and doing it again. And again. Sally screamed and her arms gave way, dropping her face and shoulders into the carpet, leaving her butt high in the air as I continued pounding. The carpet muffled Sally's next scream as I gritted my teeth and tried to drive even deeper into the prostrate beauty and I felt an ecstatic relief searing from me into Sally. I drove in hard several more times until I collapsed on top of her at the same time her knees straightened, flattening both of us on the floor, my body stretched out full length on top of here, my cock shriveling inside Sally until it fell out of her crevice by itself. I lay there with my head buried into the back of her neck, breathing heavily through the tangles of her hair.

Finally Nora said, "I hope Bill and Sally have a soundproof room," and I felt a quaking of Sally's smooth, fever-hot back against my chest as she joined the laughter. Sally rolled me off her, sat up, cross-legged, in a way that allowed me a good look at the opening of the entrance to the cave my cock had been visiting, and exhaled with a loud and cute "whew." She looked over at me, eyes sparking, and said brightly, "Thanks.

"You're welcome," I said stupidly. She playfully patted my shoulder then moved back to her next to Bill. I rejoined Dina, who absently patted my knee. I took that as a bad sign.

Cheryl didn't give me time to fret, turning to Ted and saying, "You're on, hubby."

Ted stood and displayed his dark skin and thick chest hair, not seeming the least self-conscious about his mere three inches of meat.

My process of elimination told me Ted's performance partner would be Dina, so I wasn't surprised to hear her called to complete the next naked couple—naked except for those sexy glasses still outlining her eyes.

Ted read from the paper Cheryl handed him, as I anticipated the possible paybacks for what I'd just finished: "Dina, I want you to use those lovely fingers to satisfy me with a hand job."

I wondered whether Dina was disappointed with her draw that seemed tame next to the screwing I just gave Sally. But Dina acted pleasant as she and Ted negotiated details of their encounter.

Ted laid down about the same way Pam had, even using the pillow to prop his head so he could watch the operation. Dina sat on her knees by Ted's midsection and slowly reached for the thicket where his manhood, such as it was, sprouted.

Dina's elegant index finger, her understated, half-inch-long nails decorated with only clear polish, ran up and down the skin of Ted's thickening shaft. She lightly traced the blue veins bulging along the surface, and the small statue stood up straighter and taller.

She fingered the ridge at the base of the ring of foreskin, which was almost light blue compared to the pinks and purples of the other exposed cockheads in the room. Her finger continued upward, stroking the sensitive head and when it responded with an oozing from the slit at the tip, Dina tapped at it, pulling up strands then pressing her finger and thumb together as though demonstrating its stickiness.

As the flow continued up and out, Dina spread the goo around Ted's trembling bulb. He let out a small chuckle, saying, "Oh, boy that feels incredible."

Dina looked over at him and smiled, "You like that?"

"Oh yes," Ten enthused, looking Dina's nudity up and down, as her arm worked at his groin. "Yes, I like it a lot."

"Well let's see if we can make it even better," she said, and with a thumb and two fingers she started slowly moving Ted's pump up and down. He watched her hand caressing the appendage that gave him so much pleasure. Occasionally his eyes would wander to Dina's fluid, sloping breasts, rocking back and forth as she manipulated his pole. Other times he'd watch her face, with its pretty, high cheeks and wide mouth, lips pressed together in intense focus on the job of milking Cheryl's husband. The sight of my wife fingering another man's erection, incredibly, sparked faint stirrings in my exhausted pecker.

Meanwhile, Ted had started a high-pitched groaning as Dina picked up the pace of her pistoning, staring even more intently at her progress, which had brought Ted to a height of nearly four hard inches. His butt lifted from the carpet as he gasped, "I'm cumming."

He did. And how. The first shot went two feet in the air. The next four or five fountained up a foot before plopping onto his stomach.

Dina kept whacking away, causing Ted's pelvis to jerk and writhe, all sorts of strange sounds jumping from his throat. Dina continued her work, forcing incredible amounts of semen to the surface until it seemed she was willing his body to make more. Ted sighed and all the bones seemed to leave his body. Dina's hand was covered with Ted's emissions as she slowed her up-and-downing until Ted's beat up noodle became too limp and tiny to stand up, even with Dina's help, and returned to its tiny sheath hiding among his short hairs. Dina massaged the area where Ted's geyser had spewed, then idly moved her right hand up and smeared the globs of sperm on his stomach as though evening out a finger painting. She seemed to snap out of a trance, looked at her hand, and uncharacteristically giggled and shrugged her shoulders. Combined with her nudity, it was such a cute and sexy reaction I started thinking about getting her to our own bedroom. She slapped Ted's belly, making a splashing sound on all his deposits. She nonchalantly wiped her sticky hand on her leg, then said, "Get up baby. I think Cheryl's got plans for this spot."

After Ted collected himself and took his place by Cheryl, she leaped to her feet, spread her arms, flashing her pointy little tits and full-montying her muff and crowed, "Next, it's me. Jason, come on up here, and bring that dachshund with you."

Jason grinned and did as he was told. With his extension arriving nearly a foot before he did, it did almost look like he was walking a dog.

"So, what are we going to do today?" Jason asked.

"We're going to have an extreme makeout," Cheryl chirped, getting a puzzled look in return.

She continued, "Remember when you were still living at your parents' house and you brought a date home and sat on the couch?"

Jason started looking apprehensive and said, "What do you mean?"

"Oh, cut the shy, innocent act," Cheryl teased. "Nora knows what I'm talking about. This is like making out on the couch in high school, but this time, no parents."

Cheryl sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to her. "Won't you sit with me?"

Jason sat, and gingerly put an arm around Cheryl's delicate, bare shoulder. It might have been a reasonably conventional scene of a couple, except for their nakedness dominated by the curving oak tree growing from Jason's midsection, and waving back and forth from its own weight.

Cheryl reached up to Jason's cheek, pulled his face to hers and kissed him softly on the lips. Jason didn't need any more explanation. The kissing continued as Jason's free hand moved through Cheryl's thick, light colored mane, petting it several times before his hand moved down to start palming and fingering her breasts. As he squeezed and tweaked her nipples and areole that were nearly as big as her boobs themselves, Jason's enormous boner waggled like a sailor trying to signal another ship. With Cheryl's left foot on the floor and right foot crooked on the couch so that she was sitting on her ankle, it was easy for everyone to see the region around the narrow crack in her pussy was soaked. Their mouths opened wide to each other and their breathing quickened. It wasn't difficult to imagine tongues furiously intertwining between the locked lips. Jason's left hand eventually traveled down Cheryl's long stomach to the spot where her tuft of pubic hair ended. As his fingers made repeated movements over Cheryl's clitoris, her hips started squirming erratically.

Cheryl's right hand moved down Jason's white, hairless torso, cupping his balls briefly, then squeezing the length of his wondrous tool. It took several squeezes to cover its enormity, and Cheryl repeated the procedure several times, to Jason's audible delight. Jason's finger would occasionally disappear into Cheryl's slot, but mostly he massaged the front of Cheryl's labia. After several minutes of that, as we watched Cheryl's chest and cheeks turning crimson, she pushed Jason backwards and lay down on top of him. Their lips stayed together as they went horizontal, wide-open mouths sliding around and over each other. The movement of Cheryl's hips became more rhythmic. Jason's member was pinned backward between his and Cheryl's bellies. If that caused him any pain, he didn't show it. Cheryl pushed off with her arms, moving her body back and forth, sliding her clit along the base of Jason's cock, and running her stomach across the bare tip of his penis.