Frank checks for fresh meat

Frank kept looking around, smiling at his handiwork. The **** wasn't supposed to affect men, but clearly the sight and proximity of so much overheated cunt had made them shed their inhibitions too. Everywhere he looked he saw wet and willing pussy, cocks being sucked and cunts being fucked. Couples were disappearing into the house, giggling eagerly with anticipation.

He wondered if the effect of being fucked by other men would reduce the dependence some of his bitches had developed on him. Given the evidence of Vanessa, who had been getting fucked by her husband since he first nailed her, it seemed unlikely, but only time would tell.

Shrugging, he surveyed the scene, wanting to sample something new. He could get most of these bitches just by whistling, but he felt like fresh meat. His attention quickly centred on five.

The first of them leaned on a balcony overlooking the patio, her attitude aloof but interested. She didn't look like she was in heat, but he'd learned that the signs weren't always evident.

The second was the girl he'd noticed earlier, Maureen something. In her case there was no doubt that the **** had taken effect. She had her fingers buried in her cunt, frigging herself madly as she gasped.

The big titted blonde who Vanessa didn't know and didn't care to know had stripped down and was happily fingering herself, her fat tits wobbling as she played.

A girl he recognised as the caterer assistant who had taken his thermos of lemonade from him when he arrived had clearly been sampling it or the punch.

And finally there was Carol, Vanessa's friend and reputed maneater, who was at the far side of the pool splashing water on her pussy. Either to cool it off or to rinse the spunk out of it. Either way she looked eminently fuckable.

"So many choices," he muttered to himself, surveying the meat as he made up his mind.