Chapter 1: Welcome to the Orgy
Now, I'd fucked my fair share of girls, and even had a couple of threesomes along the way, but at the ripe old age of twenty-nine, I'd never been part of an all-out, full-house orgy.
How I got there, I'm still not sure—my buddy Craig knew somebody who knew somebody, etc.—and late one Friday afternoon we found ourselves heading up to some
other
guy's place up in the hills. You know the type—secluded mansion, all fake Tudor and imported Italian marble. I listened dutifully to the list of rules that boiled down to "Ask politely before diving in; no means no; no clean blood test, no barebacking." (I had my blood tests verifying my lack of STDs in hand—there was no
way
I was spending my first orgy wrapped in latex.)
Anyway, this particular party, I was told, would have your average, run-of-the-mill swingers, augmented by a contingent of hired help (as it were) to do the things that the swingers weren't necessarily into. As we entered the front door, I had a hard time imagining what those things might be, because there seemed to be almost nothing that
wasn't
happening:
A pile of bodies to our right seemed to grow before our very eyes; if there was any body part not getting fucked or eaten, it was only a matter of moments before someone joined in and filled in the empty space.
On a nearby couch, a daisy chain of girls licked and sucked at each other, to everybody's delight, including the crowd who had gathered to watch.
Over in a corner, a black girl with gorgeous caramel-honey blonde hair was suspended from the ceiling in an intricate network of knotted red rope that left her long, elegant legs spread wide open. Another woman was alternately flogging her exposed pussy and tonguing the swollen, wet flesh, while the girl's cries echoed throughout the room.
I didn't know who to fuck first.
I didn't have to decide right away, however, as a scantily-clad hostess greeted us, collected our blood tests, and directed us to several small rooms where we could undress—as much or as little as we wanted, we were given to understand. I almost chose to leave my boxer-briefs on, but at the last minute, threw both caution and modesty to the wind and left them with the rest of my clothes.
We met up with our host, Dev, a jovial, burly fellow with olive skin and thick black hair, as we left the changing rooms. He was on his way to the kitchen, a tiny blonde in black leather thigh-high boots and a matching collar slung over his shoulder. "Oh, hey, you guys made it," he said, clasping our hands as introductions were made. "Come and see this, you're gonna love it!"
In the kitchen, he deposited the blonde on the marble countertop of the central island. "This is Oksana," he said, turning on the faucet of the stainless steel sink at one end of the island. "From the Czech Republic. I fucked her at a birthday party a couple of weeks ago—gorgeous, huh?"
And she was. Not taller than five feet or so, but with long, well-muscled legs; pretty almond-shaped eyes that I suspected would be even prettier without the heavy makeup she was wearing; and a moist, full-lipped mouth that looked made for sucking cock.
"This girl has the sweetest, firmest natural tits I've ever felt," Dev continued as he hoisted himself onto the counter and maneuvered Oksana so that she was balanced, legs spread wide, on the edge of the sink, coming to rest just behind her. "But the best thing about her—" He lifted her and nestled the head of his cock against her exposed rosebud, "Is that she takes an assfucking like a champion!"
With that, he began sliding her down the considerable length of his shaft, while she gasped and wriggled. "Yeah, I feel different, don't I, when you're not all fucked open and full of other guys' cum, huh?"
"So big," she moaned, trying to reach for her clit.
"Uh-uh, no touching," he admonished playfully, swatting her hands away. "You take me balls-deep,
then
