Fourth Installment

 

 

The consequence of her "show" of course was the expectation that she would do it again. I knew that.  I wanted it. 

 

And of course it encouraged Gary to expect her to fuck him or suck him off again.  The other "boys" now talked about "doing it" to her as well.  Gary's friend, Jon, who looked at Annie as a trophy to win, also was reinforced in his expectations and set about his own schemes to get what he wanted, one way or another.

 

Some of this I did not anticipate. 

 

Late in the flow of these events, after she and I both became disillusioned with our "adventures," Jon came to the apartment with two strangers one afternoon, while I was at work.  Annie warily let him in and he simply bullied her to cooperate.  She did not tell me of this incident until much later.  She was truly ashamed of it.  She had willingly taken off her shorts and shirt for them and let them take encouragement from her responses; they had cajoled her that much. 

 

But it ended in disgust and dismay for her. They took turns roughly fucking her with her underpants dangling at an ankle where Jon had finally jerked them down to her feet, her bra dangling about her waist where he'd jerked it down to free her tits for groping.  They took their turns fucking her from behind, while they mocked her for her submission but held her against her will on her hands and knees on the carpet in the living room; and while one fucked her over the back of her, one held her and molested her tits, and the third one crouched over her face, holding her head tightly, and fucked her in the mouth.  They repeated this brutal tag-team on her for hours and hours until she was exhausted and they had spent every fluid ounce of cum they could, feeding it to her swollen mouth or shooting it up her sorry cunt. 

 

This degradation was the last of these "adventures" for Annie. 

 

But, as I say, for the most part this summer was not sinister like this until the very end.  Then, as I say, we had both become disillusioned and Annie eventually would never speak of it, not even recall the good times.

 

Still, I remember it all mostly fondly. 

 

In the days immediately after she first undressed for my friends, our sexual adventures were innocent and fun.  The sexual play was play.  Our sexual satisfactions were thrilling and mutual and—well—playful.  Truly.  We all enjoyed it.  She enjoyed it most of all.  

 

I admit I had some angst of jealousy at times, because she unabashedly enjoyed sex with the "boys" so much.  Often having sexual parties with them that I did not witness and some of which I shall probably never know, and there were probably other men whom I did not know about, whom she had sex with, because the stories my friends tell of her also involve some of their friends whom I did not know. Altogether I suppose Annie made love to more than two dozen men in the span of those sultry six or eight weeks.

 

The first was not Gary, though he kept trying, and would eventually succeed.  He came with his brother, Steve, the day after she had done her "show" for them.

 

She met them at the door, dressed for the day in one of my T-shirts and shorts.  They were disappointed not to catch her in her nightie.  She let them in, though she guessed what they wanted.

 

She was not surprised when Gary tried to pull her T-shirt up.  She smiled at him, dancing away: "You promised...." Steve caught her, held her.  Gary lifted the front of her T-shirt.  She was not wearing a bra.  She smiled at him warmly as he fondled her, Steve looking on.  Steve let go his grip and she drew her T-shirt down and told him: "You will have to leave, if you can't stop it..."  She laughed when he almost begged her for a fuck.  Steve looked embarrassed for his brother.  But his brother was good-natured about it, it was the tease he enjoyed as much as winning her over to strip and give in.  He repeated his idle threat to tell me what she had done.  She playfully pouted and said again: "You promised..." 

 

Steve was confused.  He had no desire to tell me.  He hoped he could get from her what it seemed to her she was willing to give to others.  Why not him?

 

So two days later, Steve was back by himself.  This time, he did catch Annie in her nightie.

 

It was so obvious to her why he came, as she told me later, still flushed with the pleasure of it, that she felt flattered by his wide-eyed fascination with her.  So on her own initiative, without anything but the most awkward overtures from the shy boy, she stood up from the sofa where they had been watching TV, and baited him with her looks, and then slowly took off her nightie in front of him, dropped it and stood naked for him while he stared, open-mouthed and obviously aroused.  He tentatively touched a naked thigh, felt it up to her pussy hair, feeling her there, and then reached up to feel a jutting nipple.  He stood.  They kissed. 

 

She opened his jeans, put her hand inside his undershorts to feel his erection.  He ejaculated soon at the touch of her fingers.  He felt ashamed. She laughed.  He did not soften.  He could ejaculate several times in a row, she guessed, and so she undressed him and took his hand and led him to our bed where they laid down and fucked in various ways for a continuous couple of hours, she taking his ejaculations inside of her twice and one that spilled when he was between positions.

 

After she got up to go to the bathroom, he still lay in the bed, still erect, so when she returned, she straddled him where he lay and fucked him, as he grabbed her tits and felt her all over, until she was certain he was ready to cum again, and tilted off his legs, his dick springing out of her, slapped down and jerked on his flat of his belly.  She knelt at his hips, laid her head on his belly just above his jerking dick, and took the head of his dick fully in her mouth and sucked him.  She did not touch him.  He hardly moved.  She moved her tongue on it, and he spent himself into her mouth.  She said it was wonderful to have so much control over the boy.  She could make him cum as much as she wanted, she laughed. 

 

My only regret is that I did not see it, I told her.  She kissed me with that same mouth that had swallowed his cum, and we undressed each other as we made our way to the bedroom, she telling me how much she had enjoyed fucking the boy, and I imagining it as we laid down naked on the same unmade bed on which she and he had been naked, fucking her earlier that day, and so we made love also.  She was eager to fuck me, even though she had already been fucked—what?—four, five times by Steve that day.  God, I loved her then.

 

I asked her then as we were making love.  "Would you fuck them while I watched?"  She did not ask if I meant it or if I was sure.  With my dick inside her and both of us approaching orgasms, she said simply, softly: "Yes..."

 

Afterwards as we lay in the stew of our cum and sweat on the bed in the dark, I explained myself, that I meant for her to fuck all four of them.  She, with her head on my chest, stilling feeling my limp wet penis with her fingers, and making it rise again, did not respond.  I made it as clear to her as I could: "I mean, fuck all of them together... at the same time. You know what I mean?"  And, as she edged her head toward my erection, before she took it in her mouth, she said softly: "I know..."  She took what she could from me, urging it with her tongue and her fingers lightly feeling me.  I think it was just a quick spurt, but she sighed and swallowed sweetly.  God, I loved her so much then.