“Yes,” said Jenny, calm now, looking in his direction. “Your little slut is still coming.” It was true. Each blow that landed on her ass sent another paroxysm of pleasure through Katie’s body. “I think you’d better help me out with that.”
Jenny flattened Katie’s body down on the kitchen floor and slid her towards Bill, helped along by the slipperiness of the floor which was covered in Jenny’s saliva and Katie’s pussy juice. She pushed Katie till her cunt was right under Bill’s mouth, being sure not to dislodge Marlene down below. “Eat it!” she demanded. Bill complied. Katie whimpered. “You have been making altogether too much noise,” Jenny told her. “What will the neighbours think? I think I should keep your mouth busy.” Jenny pulled her panties to one side and sat on Katie’s face. She didn’t have to tell Katie to eat it — Katie knew what was expected of her and eagerly sucked and licked at Jenny’s swollen pussy.
Bill’s mouth was full of cunt and his cock was being sucked — he must be too busy to even notice, reasoned Dan, knowing full well that Bill would still likely notice a cock in his ass. He did. Still, the full head of Dan’s cock was wedged up in there before Bill pulled away from his girlfriend’s crotch in protest.
In reaction Marlene stopped. She slid up towards his face. “Don’t you fucking stop eating that pussy,” she growled at him. “I’m gonna keep sucking your cock and you’re gonna keep eating that pussy and that’s what’s going to happen.” She slapped his face once, hard, then slid down again.
Bill lowered his face again. He moaned into Katie’s cunt as Marlene nibbled on his balls. He grunted into Katie’s cunt as Dan thrust deeper into his ass. Katie moaned into Jenny’s cunt and Jenny moaned into the air. They were all getting off now. . except for diligent Marlene, still hard at work on Bill’s cock. Dan, always conscientious about other people’s pleasure, at least as much as he was about his own, grabbed the abandoned pepper grinder and stuck it into Marlene’s pussy. She thrust up into it even as she continued to swallow Bill’s dick. Dan shoved the pepper shaker down into her even as he thrust his cock into Bill. Now they really were all getting off.
Jenny was a squirter, a fact which neither Dan nor Marlene nor Jenny herself had felt the need to warn Katie. When Jenny came it filled Katie’s mouth and splashed down her naked torso, hitting the top of Bill’s head. She choked on it, coughed it up, came again herself. Jenny collapsed on the floor. Katie pushed herself away from Bill and slid back into Jenny. Jenny wrapped her arms around her, pinching her nipples, and they stayed like that watching Marlene and Dan and Bill.
Marlene’s head moved quickly then languidly, teasing Bill along, then even harder and faster than before. Bill’s body jerked from the force of Dan’s thrusts but Marlene still kept her expert mouth wrapped around his dick. As Dan’s movements became more urgent, so did hers. Suddenly Bill froze. His eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he went limp. Marlene crawled forwards, turned his face up, and spat a long stream of his jism into his face. She was just in time to get out of the way as Dan pulled out from Bill’s ass and pulled himself up to come all over Bill’s face, Dan’s jism mixing with Bill’s own.
Dan fell over Bill’s chest, finding enough energy in himself to slam the palm of his hand hard into the pepper grinder sticking out of Marlene’s pussy. It drove deep into her, almost disappearing. When she came she toppled forwards on to Bill’s sticky face.
Jenny, Marlene and Dan recovered more quickly than Katie and Bill, which was to be expected — they were well versed in debauchery and thus more used to the exertion involved. They dressed quickly and left, not wanting to find out if Bill would recover his anger along with his awareness.
Jenny came out on to the deck, stretching and tying her locks back, to do her daily morning yoga ritual. As she was saluting the sun she saw Katie in the window across the alley, staring straight at her. It was bound to happen, of course. Now that the couple knew the freaky threesome, how could they not notice them across the way? Jenny smiled her most guileless smile and waved. For a long moment Katie just stared at her, then, slowly, held her hand up in a still facsimile of a wave. Jenny smiled again and then continued with her salutation, gracefully folding over at the waist.
Now Katie and Bill must know where they live. Perhaps they’ll be over to exact their revenge, thought Jenny. We can only hope.
The Twelve Fucking Princesses
Kendra Wayne
Once upon a time there were twelve princesses, and every night. .
What? Did I ask you to stop me if you’d heard this before? Because you might think you’ve heard it, but you don’t know the real story. You know the watered-down, sanitized, safe-for-children version.
The truth isn’t really appropriate for children, trust me.
You really think it’s about twelve princesses dancing their shoes to tatters? Have you never heard of euphemisms?
C’m ’ere. Let me tell you what really happened.
Yes, there were twelve princesses, but they weren’t sisters, because if they were some of them would be too young for this story. They were at a finishing school, and they were supposed to be sweet virginal things, and the headmaster couldn’t figure out where they were sneaking off to every night and half-destroying their clothes.
And smelling suspiciously like certain bodily fluids — both women’s and men’s.
Not that the headmaster could admit that to their parents, oh no. How could he? He’d get flogged — and not in a way he’d enjoy it. He had to get to the bottom of this before anyone else found out.
He tried locking the door and sitting outside. No go. He tried hiring chaperones to stay in the young women’s communal dorm room (because he certainly couldn’t), but they all ended up refunding the money and wandering off looking, well, smug. Self-satisfied.
W.T.F., right?
So word got out about the headmaster’s problem — I’m not saying he was advertising, but you know how these things go. And one of the people who heard the word was. . let’s call him John, shall we? John, not to put too fine a point on it, was an ass. Sure, he wanted the money (by this point, the headmaster was getting a little desperate), but he also figured if he played his cards right, he might get his hands on a little bit of princess treasure, and I’m not talking about gold and jewels.
What do you mean, how do I know all this? Just shut up and let me tell the story.
OK, I’ll wait while you make a joke about pearl necklaces. Let me know when you’re done.
John, focused on the allure of money plus potential princess pussy, got the brilliant idea to disguise himself as a woman in order to infiltrate the finishing school and get the currently vacant chaperone job. Normally he would cast aspersions, as they say, on a man dressing in such a fashion, but he told himself it was for the money. And the booty.
Luckily he had a swimmer’s build and was blond enough that his body hair wasn’t as obvious. A wig and a dress and falsies and heels, and he was there.
Go ahead, snicker. He was an ass. He deserves it.
So, the princesses. Brianna, the eldest, was the de facto leader of the group. Gabrielle was the youngest, and she tended to kowtow to Brianna even though she was pretty sharp herself.
The rest aren’t crucial to the story, but because I know you’ll ask, their names were Juliana, Simone, Marguerite, Lianne-Marie, Charlotte, Talia, Faris, April, Rosalyn, and Philippa.
Brianna looked at John (who introduced himself as Jonette) and smiled a little smile that would’ve made him hard if he hadn’t tucked his peen back to avoid, er, outing himself.
“I’ll be honest,” John said. “You know I’ve been hired not just to give you comportment lessons, but to find out where you’re off to every night.” He knew saying something that was truthful would disarm them, distract them from his mountain of falsehoods.