Dotti arched up one tittie and then the other. It was real neat having her nipples kissed right in front of Cindi. She had Cindi beat in that department, anyway. Plenty of chicks were after Carl. He could have just about his pick at school, and even Helene liked him. She said it was okay to go steady with Carl. Her Mom knew what that meant-putting out.
It was kind of funny about Helene and Carl. The previous week when he had dropped by to see Dotti, she had been in the johnny, and Helene had met him at the door. When Dotti had finally appeared, she could swear she had interrupted something, because Carl had a kind of flustered look on his face.
The thought of her mother playing games with a guy young enough to be her son was weird. Helene had no steady, though. Her eyes sure lit up when she talked about John Allison, Cindi's dad. Well, Helene was only thirty-seven. She got her share of cock when she went out two or three nights a week.
"You gonna play with your pussy, Cindi?" Dotti giggled.
"No!" Cindi exclaimed. Her cheeks were flushed.
"Get over here and I'll do it," Dotti laughed. "On his second shot, Carl takes a long time!"
Cindi was frantic. Dotti was a bitch, like those three twats on the beach, about to take a cock and still chattering, acting real with-it. "Second shot" indeed! Cindi did want Dotti to fondle her pussy. There was no question about that. The sweet urgency in her loins was turning into a hard ache.
Suddenly, Carl was putting his prick into Dotti's cunt. The brunette reached down to steer it, her plump thighs spread farther, and Cindi watched the sheathed cock ooze slowly into the up-tilted cunt. What a sight! There had been too many shadows the previous evening. Now she was able to view the whole thing in intimate detail. Dotti uttered a little gasp of delight.
"Uhhhh!" Carl muttered, hunching down and in. His chest lowered to Dotti's titties, and she grabbed him around the shoulders as he began to fuck.
"Is it good cunt, honey?" Dotti gurgled.
"Yeahh!" he said, his voice strained. The movements of Carl's ass, the basic coital thrusts, and the expression of animal lust on his face all said he was much more excited than Dotti. He was not going to squirt on her tits this time. He had it in her and would shoot it there.
"Ohh, it's real big, stud!" Dotti breathed, finally showing some interest. Her thighs pulled back farther, as if she were trying to take more of his cock-a repeat of the night before but more stimulating, Cindi thought. She had seen and heard so much since then: peeping at John and Ellen, the picnic with her father, and all that scrambling around inside the girls' tent. The inside of Cindi's brain seemed to be filled with the image of John's huge, dark, thick cock. This was just another agonizing peep show, more vivid than the others.
In spite of her resolve not to, she seized her panty-hugged pussy and started thrusting her hips on her hand. Her clit was a hot dagger of need. She had to finish! Cindi's left hand flew to her tingly titties. She cupped the left one and felt the burning lift of her passion. Her head whirled. The scene in front of her dimmed, and all that mattered was the surging pulses of fun shooting through her clit!
Cindi heard the chair creaking with her efforts. Her thighs jerked, and her titties pushed way forward. She could hear her far-away cry of victory! It was more than fun that was leaping from her cunt! It was just about the heaviest climax of her life! The luscious pangs were so damned good they hurt her tender pussy flesh! She had waited so long-too long.
Look at that blonde get her goodies! Dotti thought, enviously. I figured she was putting me on a while ago, on the sofa, but not anymore. She's fucking her hand like it was a prick! Carl'll sure be after that cunt!
Carl moaned and started hunching faster. The scene was turning him on. And no wonder! It was also heating Dotti. The drive of his rigid prick felt sweeter than it ever had. The night before, after Cindi's sudden departure, Dotti had made it only once, even though Carl had used up three rubbers.
"Ohhh, I'm making it, I'm getting off!" Dotti panted.
Carl shuddered and went into his short strokes.
The hard, busy drives were groovy, feeling a prick puff and throb in her pussy proved how appealing Dotti was. She was not going to let Cindi take Carl away from her! Carl was also making it!
"Ughhhh! Fuuuuuck!" he moaned, jolting in so hard Dotti's ass slipped along the bedspread.
"Ohhhh, I'm coming!" Dotti cried. The tingles were good. Sometimes she had to fool around with her pussy for half an hour or more to make it come. She could not understand how Cindi could get hers off twice in a row. Older women could, she knew, because she had overheard Helene tell a woman friend one day that three orgasms were just starters for her.
Carl finished with shudders and moans, breathing like a steam engine. Dotti panted fast, too. She looked over at Cindi. Her blonde friend was recovering, slumped in the chair like a rag doll, her hips still shifting.
Suddenly, Cindi's eyes opened. She flushed and leaped from the chair. Grabbing up her halter and shorts, she ran from the bedroom.
Helene Fancher was bored stiff. Driving around the city had not produced anything interesting. She had not had a good fuck for a week, and one of her now-and-then dates was out of town. She had stopped in one cocktail lounge and two chicks had I invited her up to their pad for a girl-party, but today she craved prick. The damned place was teeming with chicks on the make. While she occasionally went for it, it was not really her bag. Sometimes a woman her age needed good, hard pumping cock, the feel of a man, the gush of semen.
Cruising on a side street she saw a car she recognized: John Allison's big sedan. It was pulled up in front of the Santa Rosa Bar, and she quickly found a parking spot. Now there was a stud she could really go for! Married ones suited her better. She wanted no close ties-as long as she collected all that nice alimony from her ex. Helene loved variety.
In the cozy twilight of the lounge, she spotted John at the bar and felt a twinge in the clit. Heads turned as she swayed up and sat beside him. She wore a tight skirt and a peasant blouse that gave her tits a chance to show off-with minimal undies.
"Look who's here," she murmured, nudging John's left leg with a nyloned knee. "Big John-all alone."
"Hi, neighbor," he said, looking at the cleft between her boobs. "Are you horsing or just teasing?"
"Both," she giggled. "Interested?"
"Didn't know you cared," he grinned. He'd had quite a few. "But I'm beat. I'm drained."
"I'll bet I can get it up," she purred in his ear, letting her left breast cushion into his arm. A sweet itch warmed her clit. Half drunk or not, his masculinity was like a warm hand on her cunt. She knew his reputation, how he usually chased young stuff; he had even married one.
The well-padded girl behind the bar wiggled up in front of Helene. "You buying or selling, honey?"
"Well, fuck you, too, baby," Helene smiled pleasantly. "At least, mine are real."
"What is this, a tit contest?" the girl offered. "Don't bother the paying customers."
"Let's get out of here, doll," John said, finishing his drink.
"Hey, I was kidding," the girl protested.
A few moments later, they were in Helene's car. She leaned back in the seat and let her skirt slither up to her crotch. John dropped his left hand into the V of Helene's nyloned thighs. She opened them, turning halfway toward him. He cupped her pantied cunt and she lifted it encouragingly. Drained or not, that lump in his pants was just terrific.
Two weeks earlier, Helene had been invited to a cocktail party at the Allison's, and she had decided then she wanted to fuck with John. He had that kind of effect on women. They looked at him and knew he was a panther.