The Third Round’s a Charm

“Get your top off.”

It takes only a second for Belka to rip off her top and reveal her wonderful, perky breasts. She leans in and kisses your rapidly swelling cock.

“Mine,” she utters to it. Then she turns back to the other girls, smirks on their faces at the sight of Belka’s raw lust. “Same rule as last time, no game until I’ve mounted this bad boy.” Her desire’s giving her confidence. She’s quickly back to kissing your cock, licking your cock, sucking your cock.

You lean back and lie on the sofa, and then guide her to straddle you, lips on your groin, lower lips dangling above your face. You want another taste of that wonderful slit. You’ve only tasted it once and you’re already addicted to it. Find her sensitive nub, suck on it, lick on it. You’re soon drowning in her juices and loving it. You could spend the rest of the day like this.

But you can’t, because there are 8 other girls waiting to play a game and find who’s next in the orgy. You grab Belka’s smooth, pert ass and slowly push it away from your greedy tongue. Belka gets the idea. Your cock slips out of her mouth. She moves until her pussy hovers above your groin. Then she gently lowers herself and skewers herself on you. She lets out another moan of satisfaction that rapidly transforms into scream of excitement as her first orgasm hits. She’s so worked up that as soon as you enter, she cums.

You let her recover before starting the churn of your hips. It begins as a slow grind, rotating so that your length presses first against one side of her tight pussy and then against the other, drawing out more of her wetness, inflaming more heat from her desire. For a while you luxuriate in your steady lovemaking.

You reach up and wrap your arms around Belka, then you twist, so that she’s no longer on top of you but lying by your side, both of you on the sofa, spooning her, your dick still buried inside her. You take this opportunity to grope her magnificent bosom, to lick her perfect neck, to gently turn her face so you can kiss her wonderful lips. Then having satisfied that desire you take control, driving your cock inside her, churning her insides until she cums, and cums again, and cums again. It’s during her third orgasm that you realise Morgane is standing over you.

She gently guides Belka off your cock. “Happier now?” she asks your most recent lover.

Belka initially nods. Then states “I want more.”

“That’s the problem with him. You always want more. However much you have, it’s never enough. Until you’ve had too much.”

“I know. I saw Anna when she was his only lover for 3 weeks.” The two girls laugh, and a few others laugh with them. Not Anna, whose blushing at the memory of those 3 weeks, what she can remember of them anyway.

Morgane leans down and kisses you. Her heavy breasts dangle before you. You start to get off the couch but Morgane puts her hand on your chest and shakes her head. “No, I want to be in control this time.”

You let her. She squats over you, her brown eyes fixed on yours as she guides your penis to rub through her folds and flick her clit. She was wet before she began, but she’s drenched by the time she finally lets you into her perfect, burning pussy. She sinks all the way down and then pauses. She’s taking it slow, which is unusual for the orgy. The girls are always aware of the time limits. They’ve only got you for so long, and most are more interested in extracting the greatest amount of pleasure than the general rhythm of the orgy. It’s normal to go from frantic fuck to frantic fuck. For the contests that run over shorter time periods this is even more apparent. But the girls have learnt you as much as you have learnt them. Morgane knows you’re now in the mood for a slow and steady screw, feeling every millimetre of her perfect pussy wrapped round your cock. That she knows whatever she does she won’t get a super-orgasm has probably influenced her decision.

It's bliss. Morgane is so slow her stuttering for her orgasms is barely noticeable to the other girls. The sound of the girls competing, the noise of the game are the sounds that fill the room. Morgane’s ride is sensuous and wonderful and over too soon.

It’s no surprise that Gloria is back for more. Her tears have dried. The lust has remained. As Morgane climbs off you she stumbles. Gloria moves to take her place, but you stop her.

“No, you don’t get to control it, this time,” you tell her. “This time I’m in control.” Gloria’s eyes widen with trepidation and excitement.

You stand up, embrace her and then pick her up. Once in your arms, you spin her round. She squeals in response. The spin finishes with her upside down, her knees around your shoulder, her groin dangling before your face. Her hair pools around your feet. You delve in to lap her juicy slit, burying your tongue inside it, running it along her clit. During the break she’d taken off her skirt, which is just as well, because it would only get in the way. She meanwhile is face to face with your dick, which she eagerly directs into her mouth. This muffles her moans of excitement, until they get too much for her. Your dick tumbles from her mouth sloppy with her saliva as she screams her latest orgasm into the room.

While she’s dizzy, you act. You lower her to the ground, still upside down, spinning her so she’s facing away from you, her shoulders taking her weight, her hips resting against the couch. You clamber onto the sofa, kneel between her legs and guide your engorged shaft into her enflamed pussy. You shift until both of you are on the edge of comfort and then you start to pound her.

Each thrust drives her into the carpet. Each withdrawal draws her thighs up. Gloria is lost in moans of ecstasy. Her hands grip the underside of the sofa, her arms spread out as if seeking religious enlightenment, her hair a puddle of brown around her, her breasts bouncing, her shaved pussy the only centre of her attention, of your attention. She’s a quivering, sweat stained, sex-addled mess. The sofa’s the only thing propping her up. The pivot of your cock, sliding in and out of her, the only unity in her delirium.

You spin in her hole. You’re no longer kneeling on the sofa. You’re standing above her, continuing to thrust. Now you’re thrusting her into the sofa. Your balls slap her clit when you’re fully embedded inside her. This is too much. She screams. She’s lost in continuous orgasms. The muscles of her contractions desperately trying to milk you, but you won’t be defeated this easily. You drag her up, so she’s straighter, so you don’t have to kneel so much, and you continue to pound. Continue to pound until someone taps you on your shoulder.

It's Sybil. “It’s fun watching you fuck Gloria, but it’s my turn now,” she tells you, with a glitter of raw lust in her green eyes.

Your disengagement from Gloria is met by a long, low, **** moan of disappointment. The short girl collapses around your feet, a pool of naked, female flesh swathed in sweat, rippling with aftershocks of joy, incoherent, barely human, a well-used receptacle. Gloria’s barely capable of pulling a ball out of the bag, let alone playing another game, but Anna and Belka are there to guide her away from the couch, because it’s Sybil’s time now.

Sybil has been waiting patiently. That’s odd, because she’s not a patient person when it comes to sex, when it comes to you. As soon as Gloria’s away Sybil is leaning over the armrest, lifting up her skirt to reveal her slit, looking behind herself at you, wiggling her eyebrows and smiling suggestively. You doubt Sybil’s ever been dry since she joined the household. She’s already ready for your cock, and your cock is still slick with the juices of Gloria, and Morgane, and Belka. That’s lubrication enough for Sybil’s expectant pussy.

“Come on take me, harder, harder,” Sybil cries into the room. The problem is you’ve been fucking for hours and you’re starting to feel it. Your muscles stutter with exhaustion. Your eyesight blurs with the repetition. The only centre you can cling on to is the wet walls currently encasing your cock. More pleasure. Especially when Sybil orgasms, the tight walls tightening further, the ripples of her enjoyment shown in her cries and in her spasming. You know this is the wrong stance for you now, but it’s the stance you’re in, and it’s the stance Sybil wants, and who are you to deny her what she wants. When the orgasm hits you collapse on top of her. Your knees give way. Your mind gives way. Your seed spurts into her already occupied womb.