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o  The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety of stories.  o
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C and C (M+/F, slut wife, voy, intr)
by Fred Rock (rockjack00@.hotmail.com)

***

Standard Disclaimer: This story is a fantasy. It takes place in 
a world with no HIV, HPV, or other STD's, a place where all 
birth control is 100% effective. That is not the world we live 
in and engaging in the activities described herein can 
seriously screw up your life or even kill you. Also, if you are 
under age 21 or don't like dirty stories, then go away. 'Nuff 
said.

  So I married a slut. The details of that are described in 
"One Bride for Seven 'Brothers'" where on our wedding day my 
wife fucked seven black porno stars in the very church we were 
married. But we had made a deal that for the month-long 
honeymoon she had to be faithful to me. I was hoping the 
gangbang would satiate her for a while (I certainly couldn't 
keep up with her sexual needs alone). I was wrong. We'd had sex 
once a day, at least, every day. You wouldn't think you could 
get tired making love to a beautiful woman but to Carly sex 
isn't a ten minute session of hide the salami. Sex for Carly is 
one or two hours of hard work. Still she wanted more than what 
I could give her. She wanted to be fucked by strangers, to be 
the total slut she is. By the time we took the boat from the 
private island I had rented to the island with the airport with 
the private jet I'd chartered, Carly was ready to fuck a duck.

  Let me tell you a little about my slut wife. She is tall, 
about 5'10" and works out just enough to tone. Her legs are 
thin, long, but not too skinny. She has long red hair and blue 
eyes and just a couple of cute freckles on her nose. Her 
breasts are full with nice nipples and her ass could launch a 
thousand wet dreams.

  Somewhere over Iowa she leaned over and asked me, "When is 
the honeymoon over."

  I could tell she was eyeing the steward, excuse me, male 
"flight attendant" the charter company had provided.

  "When I carry you over the threshold of our house," I said.

  Carly pouted. I had to smile. Now I was torturing her, for a 
change.

  "We could join the 'Mile High Club,'" she whispered in my 
ear. Unfortunately, the small jet didn't provide much privacy. 
Plus the flight attendant, the pilots, all knew who I was and 
this slut wife thing was not going to work if Carly (and I) 
weren't discrete.

  When the limousine service's car dropped us off in front of 
my house (a big Tudor style monstrosity in an exclusive, gated 
community) I opened the door, picked Carly up, carried her over 
the threshold, and said, "The honeymoon is now over."

  We were so tired from traveling all day I let the household 
staff bring in the luggage and Carly and I went to bed. For the 
first night in our marriage, we didn't have sex.

  I woke up the next morning alone in the bed. I looked at my 
watch; it was almost noon. After cleaning up I went downstairs. 
I couldn't find Carly. Eventually I found the cook, a big 
Swedish matron named (I kid you not) Helga, in the kitchen.

  "Helga, have you seen Mrs. Evans?"

  "Ya, she left earlier this morning in her car." Carly had a 
Miata; I was going to try to get her to let me buy her an Z3 or 
a Boxter.

  "Did she say were she was going?"

  "No, sir."

  Damn. I hadn't gotten her a cell phone yet. But I had an 
idea. I picked up the kitchen phone and dialed her apartment 
(she hadn't gotten rid of it yet). Maybe she went over to get 
some of her stuff. But no luck, the phone rang and rang but no 
one picked it up.

  I had a pretty good idea were she was. She was out getting 
fucked.

  When she hadn't come back by five that evening I got worried. 
At midnight I was almost panicked. Somehow I slept some during 
the night. 

  Early the next morning she still wasn't back. I made some 
excuse to household staff (who must have thought my new bride 
had ran away) and took the household car, a Ford Taurus station 
wagon (the M5 is too conspicuous and the Viper is like driving 
a parade float . . . with Cindy Crawford and Tyra Banks on it 
. . . naked). I couldn't call the police. What if they found 
her and she was fucking someone? It'd get in the papers. 

  But what if she was dead? It'd still get in the papers. I could 
only think one thing to do. She told me she caught taxis at 
hospitals because they were always there so I drove to the 
nearest one. And she was right. 

  There were three lined up by the front door. I drove through the 
parking lot looking for her Miata. I didn't find it so I went to 
another hospital. Wasn't there, either, and I was starting to 
get worried. Finally, at the third!

  I had a picture of Carly so I showed it to the two taxi 
drivers in front of the hospital. Neither one recognized her. 
So I waited. Because it was hot out I waited in the lobby, 
ignoring the stares of the receptionists. When a new taxi 
arrived I would ask that driver if he'd seen Carly. None had. I 
was there until nearly noon when another taxi pulled up that I 
didn't recognize. I was about to go outside to show the driver 
Carly's picture when she got out of it. She was wearing a seedy 
looking trench coat. She walked toward the parking lot. When 
she stepped her long legs would extend out of the front opening 
of the coat. I could see she was wearing white high heels, 
white hose (one with a big run), and little turndown socks. I 
never saw a hint of a skirt so she was either not wearing one 
or it was very short.

  She got in the Miata and drove out of the parking lot after 
paying the attendant. I ran, got in the station wagon, paid the 
attendant with a $50 for a $10 fee (didn't want to wait for the 
change) and floored it. I hoped Carly wouldn't know the way 
home as well as I did but I also didn't want to pass her. I 
took side streets at felonious velocities. When I reached the 
gate the guard waved me through, recognizing the car. But I 
stopped.

  "Has Mrs. Evans come through, yet?"

  "No, sir."

  "Good," and I floored it again. I'd probably get a nasty 
letter from the homeowners association for my speed but I 
didn't care. However, there was no need to rush: I got there a 
full hour ahead of Carly. When she walked in the door I was 
standing in the foyer, my arms akimbo.

  Carly just looked at me. She looked totally different than 
how I'd seen her at the hospital. She was dressed in expensive 
khaki slacks and a nice silk blouse. She had a tiny little 
purse that probably cost $1,000 and some subtle but expensive 
jewelry I'd given her. Her hair and make-up were prefect. She 
looked every bit the proper trophy wife.

  Trying to control my anger I said, "Where have you been?"

  She looked confused. "The honeymoon is over."

  "I know," I said, "but you've been gone for a full day."

  Just then the housekeeper, a little Puerto Rican woman walked 
in. Carly said, "Let's discuss this upstairs."

  I followed her up the stairs and into our bedroom. We walked 
in and I closed the door behind us.

  "James," she said softly, "one month was too long. I'm sorry, 
I had to get fucked."

  "I'm not mad about that," I said. I'd accepted that my wife 
was a slut. In a way, I liked it. "But you can't just leave me 
to wonder if you're dead somewhere."

  She nodded. "You're right. And I'm sorry."

  "Listen," I said. "I have an idea. I'll get us both cell 
phones. I want you to call me twice a day, unless we're 
together of course. Once at ten AM and once at ten PM. All you 
have to do is let me know you're all right. I'll even get you a 
phone with an alarm to remind you. Will you do that?"

  Carly rushed into my arms and kissed me. "Of course I will." 
She tasted like cum.

  "Now," I looked at her. "Tell me about it."

  "Huh?"

  "When I agreed to let you be a slut you promised to tell me 
every detail."

  Carly smiled. "Yes, I know. I just figured you were still 
mad." She sat one the bed and I sat in one of the room's 
chairs.

  "We've got to do something," she began, "about the household 
help. I had to go to my apartment to change."

  "Change into what?" I interrupted.

  She dug into the purse and handed me a Polaroid. "This."

  Looking at the photo my knees almost buckled with desire. It 
was a picture of her. She was laying on a bed with a cheap, 
pink bedspread and smiling at the camera. She was wearing a 
white blouse with a little black ribbon tied in a bow like a 
tie. She had on a gray plaid skirt that was incredibly short. 
It didn't matter, though, it was pushed up around her hips 
exposing her cunt. She had on white thigh-high stockings (one 
with the aforementioned run in it) and white, turn-down socks 
and white high heels.

  "My 'schoolgirl' outfit," Carly explained.

  But it wasn't the outfit so much as how she looked. Her face 
and hair were covered in cum, some dried, some fresh. Her cunt 
had cum leaking out of it and there was dried cum on her pubic 
hair and thighs. The stockings and skirt were also stained with 
cum. She looked like a well-used slut schoolgirl.

  "What happened?" I asked.

  "I left yesterday morning and went to my apartment and 
changed into that outfit," as she spoke she sat on the bed. I 
sat in the chair by the fireplace. "Then I went to a hospital 
and caught a taxi to a bar." I didn't mention I knew about the 
hospital. "I asked the driver to wait; I didn't think I'd be 
long. The bar was serving lunch to a workday crowd. Lots of 
men, no women. They looked at me as if I were some erotic space 
alien. I sat down at the bar letting my skirt ride up and asked 
for a Shirley Temple."

  "You didn't?" I asked.

  She nodded and smiled. "The bartender asked for my I.D. I 
told him I didn't have one and he said I'd have to leave. 'Are 
you sure you want me to leave?' I asked him and I climbed up on 
the bar, swung my legs over so he could see up my skirt to my 
white, silk panties, dropped behind the bar on my knees and 
started massaging his cock through his pants. He just grinned 
at me so I unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. I don't 
know when the last time this guy bathed but he smelled awful 
but in the mood I was in, that was only a turn-on.

  "I sucked his cock down and started giving him head. The bar 
got quiet and I realized we soon had an audience peering over 
the bar. I really got into that so I gave him a long, slow 
blowjob. The audience started cheering me on. Finally I felt 
his cock get stiffer and start to throb so I pulled him out of 
my mouth and let him come all over my face."

  By this time I had my cock out and was masturbating. Carly 
had unzipped her pants and had her hand in her panties.

  "The crowd cheered. I smiled and said, 'Anyone else?' Well, 
that's all it took. I had all of them lined up and I sucked 
them all off. Fifty men must have come on my face. It was in my 
eyes, my hair, dripping off my chin. But nobody fucked me."

  "Poor girl," I said sarcastically and stood up and pushed her 
on the bed. I started to remove her pants as she continued.
  "I used a bar towel to clean up a bit and decided to leave to 
find someone to fuck me. As I was walking out I noticed the 
taxi driver standing by the door. He looked at me and I knew 
he'd seen everything.

  "'I need cock,' I said to him."

  By now I had Carly naked from the waist down and I could see 
her cunt was leaking cum despite having obviously taken a 
shower at her apartment. I tentatively started licking her 
clit, trying very hard not to lap up any of the strange men's 
cum.

  Carly continued with her story but she was starting to breath 
hard; she was apparently enjoying my ministrations on her clit. 
"He smiled. 'Fix your face and I can get you more cock than you 
can handle,' he said.

  "'Got a mirror in the car?' I asked. He nodded and so we went 
to the taxi. We drove to a seedy looking hotel. He waited while 
I put my makeup back on. I used a comb to try to make my hair 
look less full of cum.

  "'What is this place?' I asked him.

  "'Where I live,' he said. 'Lots of horny, single guys.'

  "He took me up to his apartment. It was a one-room studio 
with an old bed with metal headboard and footboard. I thought 
maybe he was going to fuck me but he had other ideas. He told 
me to wait and he left. A few minutes later he walked in with a 
young, pimply kid. He looked about 17. The kid looked me over 
like I was a piece of meat.

  "'How much?' the kid asked.

  I stopped licking her to look at her face. "'How much'?" I 
asked.

  "Yes," Carly said, her eyes ablaze, "apparently he was 
planning on whoring me out."

  "Shit," I whispered. So now I apparently have a slut whore 
wife. I went back to licking her growing clit.

  "'Twenty-five for a blow job,'" Carly continued with her 
narration, "'Fifty for a straight fuck, one hundred for anal.' 
Then he looked at me and said, 'You do do anal, don't you?' I 
could only nod I was so surprised.

  "'I only got thirty,' the kid said.

  "'For thirty you can come on my face,' I said. The kid's eyes 
grew wide and he dug in his pocket and pulled out a wad of 
dirty bills. He started to give them to me by the driver took 
them. He walked out but said over his shoulder, 'Ya got fifteen 
minutes. Enjoy!'

  Carly had been breathing harder as I worked on her clit. 
Finally she pushed my head down toward her cunt and I knew what 
she wanted. She likes me to put my tongue up her cunt. But I'd 
never done it when it was full of semen. At first I resisted 
but she pushed harder and my nose ended up dipping in the cum 
dripping our of her vagina. After that, I figured I was in for 
it so I started licking the cum out of her.

  "The kid was a little nervous," she went on, "so I told him 
to relax and said 'Let me take care of everything.' I got down 
on my knees in front of him. He seemed to like that. I undid 
his jeans and pushed them to his ankles. Then I lowered his 
underwear and there was the nicest young cock I'd seen in ages. 
It was hard as a rock. I touched it with my hand and the kid 
groaned and his knees seemed to give a little. 'Easy there, big 
fella,' I said. I took his cock in my mouth and almost 
immediately he came. I pulled out and let him come on my face. 
He looked so happy."

  I was still licking up and down her vulva as she kept 
talking. "The kid left and almost immediately another man came 
in with the driver. He was older, like fifty. He paid the 
driver fifty dollar and again he gave us fifteen minutes. I 
helped the man undress and I slipped off my panties - I never 
saw them again - and lay on the bed. The man crawled on top of 
me and fucked me quick. He asked me if there was cum on my face 
and I said, 'Yes.' With that he started coming inside me."

  That was it; I had to fuck my slut whore of a wife. I climbed 
on top of her, much as I imagined the old man doing, and shoved 
my cock into her very wet cunt.

  Carly groaned as I entered her. But she kept talking. "It 
went on like that for hours. I got fucked so many times I lost 
count. I got fucked up the ass at least five times. Some of 
them came in me, some on me. I slept between tricks. Once I 
woke up and the pimply kid was fucking me. He must have found 
more money. Somebody took some pictures of me. They left me the 
one I showed you. I was covered in cum and it was leaking from 
my cunt and ass.

  "Finally the driver walked in and handed me a wad of bills.

  "'What's this?' I asked?

  "'Your share,' he said. 'Fifty percent. You've fucked out the 
entire place.'

  Hearing those words I came with a vengeance. Carly came too 
and the story was paused as we mutually orgasmed. A long time 
later I lay beside her on the bed holding her.

  "'Take me home,' I said," she continued, "really meaning the 
hospital where my car was. He nodded. In the taxi I counted the 
money. I had almost a thousand dollars. I saw a Goodwill store 
and told the driver to stop. He did and I went inside and 
bought a trench coat so I could walk to my car at the hospital 
without being a spectacle. I paid the thousand dollars for it. 
I don't know what the old lady behind the counter thought and I 
don't care. The driver dropped me off and I drove to my 
apartment and changed."

  I tried to calculate it out. She made about $1,000 whoring 
for a taxi driver. If there were 50% straight fuck at $50 a 
pop, about 50% oral at $25 a pop, and five anal, how many men 
had used my wife, my beautiful trophy wife, as their fuck toy. 
Let's see, I thought, "x" times 25 plus "y" times 50 plus five 
times 75 equals 2000 where "x" is the number of blowjobs and 
"y" is the number of straight fucks. And "x" plus "y" plus five 
equals the number of men. Well, I had two equations but three 
unknowns and after my nearly sleepless night and that great 
fuck, I just fell asleep.

  The phone thing worked and I never had to worry again. We 
decided Carly should keep her apartment for a place to change 
clothes, clean up, and, uhm, entertain. She'd never taken men 
home to her apartment before but now she could since she didn't 
live there.

  The phone thing also resulted in some interesting 
experiences. Once it rang while I was out to dinner with 
another member of the board of directors of the big internet 
company that bought my company.

  "James," Carly said panting.

  "Yes?" I asked.

  "Just - pant - checking - groan - in; it's ten."

  The other guy was sitting right across the table from me. 
"Are you, uhm, busy?" I asked.

  "Yes, I have a big black cock in me," she replied 
breathlessly.

  I had an instant hard-on. I turned to my companion, "I'm 
sorry, I have to take this call." I left the table and headed 
for the bathroom. Carly was describing her fuck as I went. I 
got inside dying to get in a stall and jerk off. Damn, there 
was an attendant. I went to the elevator and went to the 
parking garage and got in my car. Carly was still huskily 
telling me every juicy detail of her slutting. I got in the M5 
and hoped the tinted windows were dark enough. I beat off right 
there in the driver's seat listening to my wife get fucked over 
the phone. I came as she did, screaming in the phone. Sort of 
gives a new definition to "phone sex." I used tissues in the 
car to clean up and returned to the restaurant apologizing for 
the "emergency call."

  So, like a lot of married folks, we settled into a routine. 
You may think rich people have nothing to do. Hardly. You get 
pegged for every volunteer effort and charity event or 
political fundraiser in town. It keeps you busy. Carly fucked 
around and told me all the details. I eventfully developed a 
taste for licking the cum out of her cunt. But one thing we'd 
never done is a threesome or otherwise let me participate, like 
watching. Then Carly mentioned that her friend Cheryl had 
gotten a new job and was moving to Los Angeles from San 
Francisco. Carly said she'd always planned to visit Cheryl in 
S.F. but had never gotten around to it.

  "Let's go before she moves," I said.

  Carly kissed me and asked if we really could.

  "Of course," I said, loving playing the heroic husband. "I'll 
make the arrangement." Of course, I didn't mention that I was 
hoping to get a "C&C" but I'm sure Carly wouldn't have minded 
if I did.

  My wife had told me that her friend Cheryl had been her first 
sexual experience and it was because of her that Carly was the 
slut she was. In high school, they two had been known as "C&C" 
and they gave a lot of the boys a "C&C." Well, I wanted a C&C 
and going to visit Cheryl in San Francisco seemed the perfect 
opportunity.

  I arranged for a private jet to fly us down and a big hotel 
suite for us to stay in. I rented a red Jaguar XKR convertible. 
It was 370 horses but an auto tranny; does have a back seat, 
though and is very plush. I might get one of these for those 
days you want a convertible (I got a Viper coupe). We arrived 
in town and Carly immediately called Cheryl. 

  Cheryl had already quit her job so she had time on her hands. 
She gave us a tour of the city. It was great fun to be with two 
beautiful women driving around San Francisco in the gorgeous 
convertible. Between the dazzling car and the stunning women 
we weren't lacking for attention. Maybe I should describe 
Cheryl. Carly is tall, thin, with long legs and a nice ass and
has red hair (natural) and a couple of cute freckles on her 
nose. She's one of the most beautiful women I've ever known 
and I get to fuck her (ah, it's good to be the billionaire). 
Cheryl, on the other hand is about average height for a woman 
and could loose maybe five pounds.

  I did notice that Carly and Cheryl took every opportunity to 
touch each other. The sexual tension between them was almost 
tangible. Both were wearing short skirts and as they walked 
down the street nearly making out with each other they almost 
caused traffic pileups. I was having a great time. Once a car 
slowed down and a black man stuck his head out the window.

  "Hey, I can take one of those off your hands for ya," he 
called out.

  Carly started sashaying over to his car when Cheryl called 
her back. The girls giggled for ten minutes over that.

  We went to a wonderful Italian restaurant that Cheryl knew 
and we drank two bottles of a nice red wine. Finally it was the 
moment of truth. Dinner was over and Carly and Cheryl were 
looking at each other as if they were ready to make love right 
there.

  "Do you girls want to go back to our suite?" I asked trying 
to sound innocent.

  "Yes," they whispered simultaneously not taking their eyes 
off of each other.

  In the car Carly sat in the tight back seat with Cheryl. I 
put the top up and they started kissing. I watched in the 
rearview mirror until Cheryl said, "Is this car fast?"

  "Yes."

  "Then lets get back to the hotel."

  The Jag wasn't as fast as my Viper but I got us back to the 
hotel in minutes. We pulled up front and the valet opened the 
door for me. Since they didn't see anyone in the front 
passenger seat no one opened that door. I got out and pulled 
the seat forward. Cheryl slid out followed by Carly (who's 
skirt was up around her waist giving the valet a peak at her 
panties before the skirt flopped into place).

  We walked through the lobby, me between the women. A middle-
aged man with his dowdy wife saw me with these two babes on my 
arm and then looked at his wife and looked very sad. We got to 
the elevators and I punched the button. Standing there waiting 
I could tell Cheryl and Carly were ready to attack each other. 
But I was between them. Finally the elevator dinged and the 
door opened. We went inside; it was empty other than us. I put 
my room key in a slot and punched the floor. In the time it 
took me to do that, Carly and Cheryl were in each other's arms 
kissing.

  Putting my key in the slot allowed the elevator to go to the 
"exclusive" floor. It also didn't allow the elevator to stop. 
So I leaned against the wall and enjoyed watching Cheryl run 
her hand up the back of Carly's thigh and up under her skirt 
while French kissing my wife.

  The elevator stopped and we got out. Carly and Cheryl held 
hands during the short walk to the suit.

  I unlooked the door and opened it for the women. They almost 
fell in. I turned on the light. We were in a lavish, 
traditionally styled living room area. I no sooner had the door 
closed than Cheryl pulled off Carly's top. Then they went back 
to making out, kissing, hugging, and feeling each other up. 
There was a large couch in the room and they shuffled towards 
it as they kissed. Soon Carly's skirt was off, leaving her in 
bra and panties. Then Cheryl took off her dress and both women 
were in their underwear.

  I sat in a leather wing chair and enjoyed the view. This was 
the first time I was going to watch, other then on videotape, 
my wife having sex.

  Cheryl's hand was in Carly's panties, and Carly groaned with 
pleasure. Carly was running her hands around her friend's white 
skin going from her ass (through her panties) to her breasts, 
the small her back, her thighs. The women sat on the couch 
together and were kissing and feeling each other up. I had a 
huge hard-on so I started rubbing my cock through my pants.

  Carly put her hand inside Cheryl's panties and the women were 
playing with each other's pussies. Carly pushed down on 
Cheryl's shoulders. My wife's friend got the hint. She dropped 
to her knees on the floor in front of the couch and pulled down 
Carly's panties and removed them. Carly spread her legs and 
Cheryl dove in with enthusiasm.

  Cheryl must have known what she was doing because Carly 
leaned back, closed her eyes, and started breathing quickly 
through her parted, sensual lips. Her breathing quickened and 
after a few minutes she came with a squeal. Cheryl turned to 
look at me, my wife's juices on her chin, and smiled.

  "Care to join us?" she asked.

  I looked at Carly, thinking it was up to her if she wanted a 
three-some with her friend and me. She smiled at me in a way 
that I took to mean she agreed.

  I stood up, undressed, and walked over. Meanwhile, the girls 
had finished undressing and were waiting for me.

  "Lay on the floor," Carly ordered. I did. Carly squatted over 
my boner and lowered her very wet cunt onto it. Cheryl lowered 
her cunt to my face. Her lips were spread wide and her clit was 
throbbing. I started licking it as Carly rocked back and forth 
on my cock. The girls were facing each other and they'd kiss 
whenever they came close enough. That was enough for me and I 
shot my wad, lifting Carly off the floor with my cock driving 
into her. I ate Cheryl with enthusiasm as she swapped spit with 
my wife.

  When I was through coming, Carly rolled off of me but Cheryl 
stayed on my face. I took this to mean I should continue to eat 
her out. I tried hard to make her come but I just couldn't do 
it (it's not that I'm unskilled; I've made plenty of women, 
including both my wives, orgasm through oral sex). Finally 
Cheryl moved off my face and sat on the couch. Carly dove in 
between her thighs. So here was another first, watching my wife 
orally service another woman. It didn't take long for Carly to 
have Cheryl squirming and then coming.

  As she came down Cheryl looked at me and smiled. "Don't 
worry," she said. "No one can eat out a woman out like another 
woman. They know what feels good."

  However, watching my wife make her friend come had revived my 
hard-on. I stood up and my pecker pointed toward the women.

  "Just to show there's no hard feelings," Cheryl said and she 
got off the couch and kneeled in front of me. She started 
stroking my cock. Carly came over and kneeled down, too, and 
started playing with my balls.

  Cheryl took my cock and fed it to my wife. Here was a
sensation I'd never known before. My cock was in one woman's
hand and another woman's mouth. Carly blew me for a few moments
then Cheryl took my cock in her mouth. Both women were able to
take the whole thing in their mouths (being Carly's husband I
did know what getting deep throated felt like and Cheryl
was as good at it as Carly). They traded back and forth like 
that a couple of times then they both attacked my cock, licking
it up and down the shaft, popping the head into their mouths.
If their mouths or tongues happened to meet they would linger
and enjoy that sensation. I was pumping out a profusion of
pre-cum and it would make strings between their lips and
tongues. Then they both got on one side of my cock and ran 
their lips up and down the shaft. I got very hard and was
about to come so they both got in front of my cock. Carly played
with my balls, Cheryl stroked my shaft, and they took turns 
sucking on the head. Finally I came.

  The women had cum dripping off their faces and Cheryl had 
some in her blonde hair. Then they kissed and exchanged semen 
with their spit. Then they licked the cum off each other's 
faces and ended gently kissing each other. When they stood up 
we all hugged.

  Even though there was another bedroom in the suite, we all 
ended up in the king sized bed in the master bedroom. I slept 
nude between the naked women, curled up against Carly, with 
Cheryl leaning up against me. It's good to be the billionaire.

