And dribbles below

Stacy held up the two tied and filled sacks, to glint against the sunshine. The boys lay either side of her, matching her fascination with their own for a girl so entranced. She let the dangling things twist and sway, reminiscing on every second they had spent inside her, drawing out their precious cargo.

Pete had indeed been more of a challenge. Even toward the end she was not convinced she had earned herself the whole of him. Yet the still billowing tide Mark had left in her had resulted in not one orgasm, but two, each building out of the other’s encouragement. She had flipped herself round halfway through, demanding to be taken from behind like a bitch in the mad heats of spring. She could still feel the tight grasp of his hands upon her sides, where the spartan youth had dragged her back upon his spear. These two slimy balloons were her medals of honor. Her badges of womanhood. Her trophies of triumph over the virgin voyages of those she held dearest. They were hers now, as she was theirs. Knotted together by rubber and sloshing white fluids. She hung them from the same tree she had first dangled her panties from, not so long ago. There, she now determined, would be built a sordid display the likes of which no ‘normal’ being could even imagine. It would be a shop of horrors. A teenage wet dream of disgusting reality.

The naked princess turned to look over her dozing kingdom. Pete was half-asleep, still flushed red with the exertion of claiming her. Mark was watching her silently, self-doubting thoughts still all too obviously playing across his face. Stacy was not going to have any of that. She needed no favourites. She calmly walked over and mounted him, putting that near-permanent erection to its proper use. He gasped to be suddenly enveloped bare-back, a tremor rising up through where their flesh was now joined. She put a finger to his lips and began moving, forward and back, forward and back. Grinding herself down onto him. Stirring her very soul with his wick. Stacy planted her feet either side of him and began to bounce, feeling the burn of her own thighs against the smooth flow of his invasions. It was a whole new experience: the slow caress of his true skin inside of her. The control that came with measuring out her own doses of friction and pressure. It could have been seconds or decades later that she found herself bounding up and down upon him like a jackrabbit, driving her own hips in bucking slaps. She could feel the throb and steel of him rising, but was far too close herself. She pulled at her own hair and swang back her shoulders yelping and moaning without a care for passing, unwanted ears.

Mark looked up at her with a mix of fear and divine un-fuckitude. They both knew there was no stopping now. She had chosen today in the vague thought that it was probably a safe day, should anything unforeseen happen. But right now gave no sliver of a shit either way. She rode the boy who clearly loved her to the very height of his limits, using every inch of him she could gather within herself. Stars exploded in her head and she struck a pose like a pop queen on her greatest stage, as a supernova of sparks boiled up through her skin. She felt the shuddering jerks of him, pinned between her legs as geysers of warmth splashed against her inner walls. Her womb gasped with the thought of everything its evolution sought being poured in so very close. YES she thought, and dreamt, and said! YES she was a creature and a cavity, being filled with the cream she so desired. She toppled down upon him and kissed the boy who’d given her such gifts, letting shivers ripple down through her entire naked form. Down below they squelched together, flesh tied and glued. Dribbles of him leaked from her, and each drip was a new delight.