0 comments/ 24738 views/ 0 favorites A Glimpse By: grlanachronism78 I am seated on a plastic bench, focusing on nothing and everything all at once. A well worn copy of, American Psycho, by Bret Easton Ellis in my hands. There were post-it notes in the book to mark some of my favorite passages; those passages having to do with gruesome torture and sex all at once. It shames me a little to know that every time I read these passages that I get turned on, even though the sex in the book always ends up with gut wrenching torture. The smell of laundry soap and fabric freshener are starting to give me a headache, or could it be the heat in this building, or the fact that I keep staring at the clothes in the dryers tumbling, tumbling, tumbling. The door opens and the faint smell of fresh, outside air mixed with cigarette smoke waifs in the building. I think briefly about going outside and joining the smoking group but the sign to my left catches my eye: "Please Do Not Leave Laundry In Washers or Dryers Unattended. The owners Of The Establishment Will Not Be Responsible For Stolen Items." I'm not sure why the sign makes me stay seated, maybe I'm too obedient. Though my eyes have gone back to focusing on the clothes in the dryer, I know others in the building have turned with bored curiosity to see who has just joined them in the act of washing clothing. I do not have to look; I can see through the reflection on the machines stacked on the far wall that the person is male. I catch his scent. It's a cheap smelling cologne; I can't put my finger on exactly which one it is, but it at least smells good. My eyes now focus on the male's back. He has blocked my view of the clothes in the dryer. He's of average height, weight, looks like lots of other male's roaming around the city. The only difference is he is not wearing a baseball cap, like so many other male's don. He takes a seat next to me and smiles, nodding his head. I smile back and turn my head towards the dryers... The room has gone empty. There are no other persons; all the washing machine lids have been closed and I see myself sitting on one. I'm naked; my legs spread, my feet propped up on the washers beside the one I'm sitting on. The man's head is between my legs and my hips grind down on his face. I can hear myself making soft cooing sounds as I lean back and prop my elbows on the washers. My hands come up and begin to squeeze my ample breasts. My fingers catch my pink, hard nipples between them and I twist and pinch as the sounds coming from me get louder. The male looks up, a slight smile on his face as he flicks his tongue across my hard clit. I moan, "you lick my pussy so good, Mister." He buries his face in my cunt and hums sending the vibration of his lips into my clit and making me throw my head back. He looks up, "it's so sweet, I could lick it all day." I buck against his mouth as he sucks my clit into it. My moans get louder; my body starts to tremble; I whisper, "I'm going to come. I'm going to come." My whispers get louder, turning into yelling as I.. I jump and hear, "Miss? Miss?" I feel a warm hand on my knee and blink a couple of times, turning to the sound of the voice. It's the male, of course, and he's smiling at me quizzically. "You dropped your book." "Oh." I look in his eyes and pull my stare a way quickly. I am convinced that he will be able to read the entire fantasy if I looked at him too long. "Thank you." "I've read this book." "Did you like it?" I'm still not looking at him. I am hoping to everything Holy that my skin is not as flushed as I feel, but being red-headed and pale-skinned means I cannot hide blushing very well. My voice sounds horse to me and I wonder if he hears passion in it or does he think that my voice is always just rough. "I did. It looks like you like it quite a bit." He smiles. I nod and blush again, hoping to hell he doesn't ask anything about the post-it notes; hoping to heaven that he's only read the book once and can't tell what places in the book are marked. I stare at the other sign on the wall: "Please Put Clothes Loosely In Dryer For Better Performance. Ask An Attendant If You Need Any Help." "I thought the book did an excellent job..." I'm leaning down from the washers now; my legs spread apart in a front split position. The male is up on his tiptoes and my mouth is around his cock. I'm slurping and sucking, letting long lines of saliva fall from my lips as I thrust my head as far onto his cock as this position will allow. One hand cups his balls and massages them while the other is at the base of his cock stroking him as I bring my mouth up and down, up and down, sucking, licking, moaning... "Mmm..you're so good at that." Nodding my head, looking up at him, flicking my tongue across the small hole, rolling my eyes back as I taste his sweet pre-cum, shoving his cock back down into my mouth, sucking hard, moving my tongue around it, stroking, massaging.... "Hello? Are you listening? I asked you, don't you agree?" "Oh. Yes. I do." I quickly glance over at him again and there is that dumbfounded smile. I wonder if I should have agreed or not. What was the question? Jesus! I look like a complete idiot. I excuse myself, running my fingers through my always dis-shelved hair. I take a deep breath as I move towards the dryers. The fantasies are not an uncommon thing for me. I have them all the time. I can take a mundane everyday life routine and turn it into a hot, messy, sexual encounter in seconds. I believe that this is why the sexual encounters in the book intrigue me so much. I have never read a piece of literature that was not a full-on erotic story with so much sexual detail. I sometimes wish that I did not have this ability to turn everything to sex. It becomes a little embarrassing when you are out in public. You get strange looks from people when you have finally snapped out of the fantasy and look around. The last time this happened was two days ago at the grocery store. I was in the produce section checking out oranges when I looked up and saw a tall blond holding a zucchini or maybe it was cucumber; I really couldn't tell the difference, and she had a female friend with her; I think she was a brunette. Then bam! All of a sudden the woman is sitting on the pile of vegetables. She's naked and her friend is pushing the zucchini/cucumber in and out of the blonde's pussy while flicking her tongue across her small, perky tits. The women are having a fantastic time, creaming all over the produce and coming for each other over and over again. When I snapped out of that one, an old lady was looking at me and shaking her head, while a squeezed to death orange, it's juices seeping down my hand, was held by a hard-breathing me. I smiled meekly at the lady and dropped the orange back into the pile. I wiped my hands on my jeans as I moved away quickly, keeping my eyes down. I opened the door to the dryer and welcomed the smell and heat of the air escaping it. I started throwing the clothes in the provided basket in order to go fold them when I looked over and saw the man staring at me. I smiled again and he smiled back.... I'm bent over the washing machine; the male's cock moving in steady medium strides in and out of my cunt. I can hear the wet sounds of my very excited pussy as he buries his cock to the hilt. From my third party viewing of the fantasy, I can see his cock pull out to the tip. It's glistening, wet, and hot; I imagine that I can see it pulsing a little as he becomes more excited with each thrust. We're groaning, grunting, moaning, yelling, cursing. I can hear all of the, "fuck's, shit's, goddamn's." As the fucking really gets going. I beg, "fuck me, fuck me please. Oh God, it feels so fucking good." His words hardly hearable and under his breath, "so fucking wet, so tight, fuck your cunt's amazing." "Excuse me!" Little old lady, to my right, I'm blocking the passage to the other dryers with my cart. "Oh sorry." I can feel my skin is hot. My breathing has become irregular from the things that keep coming into my head. I try to ignore this; I try to ignore the throbbing I feel between my legs. I press my legs together but that only heightens the feelings; I spread them apart. I move over to a folding spot and see the man isn't there anymore. I feel relieved, maybe the thoughts will go away. But then I hear his voice coming from behind me, and I jump a little, "I had to get up to move my clothes to the dryers and I didn't want to leave your bag unattended so here you go." He hands me my bag and our fingers touch; this sends more sexual sensations through my body. My voice is even more harsh almost whispering, "thank you very much." "No problem." I turn back to my pile of clothes. I'm hanging on to the inside part of the dryer. My body is stretched in mid-air as I watch the male thrusting into my cunt. My breasts bounce every which way with the force of his thrusting. My eyes are closed; my teeth are biting into my lower lip and I am squealing. I'm too far gone to make any other sounds; the screams have stopped, and all I can produce are loud high-pitched squeals as my legs tense against his ass and my pussy squeezes around him. His thrusts are hard and steady, grunts escape his lips, the sound of skin hitting skin, the wet sounds of pussy echo through the air... I wake myself up this time because I realize that in real life little sounds are ushering from my throat. I grab the laundry and shove it unfolded into my own laundry basket. I must go home. A Glimpse Inside "DAMMIT SAM! SUCK IT UP!" Janet screamed. She was tired of the "poor Sam" pity party. "You don't understand." "MAKE ME UNDERSTAND! "I have to figure out how!" "FUCK YOU!" Janet slammed the door as she left Sam's place. Sam remained in fetal position on the couch. He cried silently. He wished he were different. He wished he did not suffer from depression. But he did. His medication worked pretty well, but hadn't been effective over the last month or so. And it showed. Sam cried a million tears. Then a few million more followed. No one was there to hear his whimpers and his prayers for relief. And the worst part, no one understood what it was like. Twenty minutes passed and Sam finally reached for the phone. "Dr. Smart's office. How may I help you?" "Hello Helen. This is Sam Shuffield. Is Dr. Smart available?" "Sure. Hold on." The receptionist maintained her professionalism even though she heard the sobs in the background and the misery in Sam's voice. "This is Dr. Smart." "Hey Dr. Smart. This is Sam Shuffield." "How are you feeling Sam?" "Not good. Not good at all." "Come to the office. I am free all morning." "OK." Sam put on a T-shirt and jeans. He slowly trudged to his car with his head down. He hoped Dr. Smart could help him or at least understand him. Thirty minutes later, Sam had stopped crying and was able to walk without looking at the ground. Dr. Smart wrote a new prescription. Sam reflected on the session and concluded that he would take Dr. Smart's advice. He would sit down and clearly explain to Janet what was going on with him and what it was like to suffer from this illness. Sam called Janet when he returned home. "What do you want, Sam?" "Hello Janet. We need to talk." "We can talk over the phone." "I would rather see you face to face." "Have you moved off the couch yet?" "Yes. I saw Dr. Smart." "Good. At least you're doing something. I'll be there in fifteen minutes." Janet hung up abruptly. She didn't understand what had gotten into Sam. What was wrong with him? He was fine six months ago when we met. Now, he doesn't want to do anything. He just lays around and cries. I don't have patience for sorry ass men who are looking for sympathy. And he was having a pity party marathon. "Thanks for coming, Janet." "Mm hmm," was her reply. "Please sit down." She sat in the love seat that was farthest away from Sam. "Janet, I apologize for my behavior over the last few weeks. I've been in the midst of a depressive episode." "A what?!" "A depressive episode. I suffer from depression. It started when I was eleven years old and I started taking medication for it when I was fourteen." "MEDS?!!" Janet quizzically responded. "Yes, meds. They usually help tremendously. But sometimes, they stop working and I need to get them adjusted." Janet leaned forward and listened closely to Sam. "Sam, describe what you go through to me." The compassionate, loving Janet was back now. "It's a heavy unexplainable sadness. Everything could be going great in my life. Good relationship, good job, money in the bank and healthy. But I still feel like my existence is meaningless. It takes incredible effort to even smile. It's like a cancer that won't go away. It might go into remission for a while, but eventually it is going to come back." "Is there a cure?" she asked hopefully. But Sam's facial expression answered her question. He looked at the floor. "Not yet. There are many different treatments and theories about what may cause it, but no known true cure." Janet just stared at Sam. A single tear ran down her cheek. "What can you do to make it better?" "Endorphins from running help a lot. Eating healthy and getting enough rest are good strategies too. Janet, I know this is hard to understand and deal with. As much as it kills me to think it, if you can't handle all of my stuff, there will be no hard feelings if you want to end our relationship." Janet gave Sam a tight hug and held him for a long time. She kissed his cheek. "Sam, you are an amazing man. I knew that the day I met you. I am so thankful that you trusted me enough to share such a personal part of you with me." "Does this mean we still have a future together?" Sam asked. Janet lowered her eyes and was quiet for a long time. "I don't know Sam. I just don't know." With more tears running down her face, she left the apartment. Sam was devastated. He thought the worst even though Janet did not say it was over definitively. He sat on the couch and stared at the blank TV screen for an hour. He finally got up and went to bed without eating. The next week was torture. He had not seen or heard from Janet since their last conversation. He had left voicemails and sent e-mails with no response. He knew it was time to move on. When he got home, there was a letter taped to his door. He recognized the handwriting as Janet's. He rushed inside to see what it said. "Dear Sam, I apologize for not being in contact for the last week. Many thoughts and feelings surfaced after our last conversation. I needed time alone to process them. First of all, I want you to know that I meant everything I said last week: good and bad. I do think you are an amazing man, but I also believe you need to do more to help yourself. Your positives outweigh your negatives overall, but not by much. Sam, you know that I am bisexual and my last relationship before you was with a woman. After our discussion, I realized that I needed to be with a woman. I respect and appreciate how honest and forthright you were with me. But you also made me see that men are at once so simple and extremely complex. I will never feel secure in our relationship. I don't know if I am going to come home to strong, medicated Sam or depressed Sam. This is an example of the male complexity, which frankly, I do not have the patience to deal with. So, no there will not be a future for us. Please delete my number and stop e-mailing me. I care about you Sam and I want you to get better. But I cannot be weighed down by your emotional baggage and issues. I wish you all the best! Sincerely, Janet Sam was furious and relieved. Furious because his fragile ego was bruised, but relieved that Janet discovered where she would be the happiest. It was nothing new, but Sam was alone. Maybe one day, he would find someone who could truly love all of him. A Glimpse of Control Abbie almost choked on her wine as Terry made another joke. She placed the glass carefully down on the coffee table and wiped the excess wine from her lips. "Do you always talk about your wife like that?" Zak asked. "Only when she deserves it," Terry answered. "What did I do to deserve that?" Gail asked him with a cheeky grin on her face. "Claiming Brazil was in Africa, for a start," Terry told her. Abbie giggled as they argued over the game they were playing. She realised she had laughed a lot more than she had expected to when she first arrived. Terry was her father's squash partner and she had been persuaded to attend the party to represent him whilst he whisked her mother away on a romantic weekend. Unfortunately everyone else seemed to have had an excuse not to attend too. All except Zak, that was. He was barely 18 and had just got an apprenticeship working for Terry. Abbie had discovered that he felt he had to attend in order to keep his job. Despite being a good 7 or 8 years younger than her, she felt herself drawn to him. He was a few inches taller than her, with a cute face and a naïve charm that made him seem caring. "Your move," Gail prompted her, snapping her out of her daydream. Abbie rolled the dice and the game continued. They had toned down the party and resorted to playing a board game in the living room. Candles flickered to give it a warm atmosphere as they knelt around the coffee table. Abbie had been partnered with Zak, whilst opposite Gail and Terry formed a team. Terry wore a tailored shirt which showed off his toned physique. His light coloured hair was styled carefully and his clean shaven face all helped to make him look professional even in the relaxation of his own home. Gail had clearly been expecting a larger turnout. Her chestnut hair was curled immaculately to frame her lightly-freckled face. She wore a black dress with accentuated her curves and made Abbie glad she hadn't opted for her own low-cut dress. Abbie's breasts were small and pert but Gail's were at least three times the size. She had caught Zak staring at Gail's cleavage on more than one occasion. Abbie got their question right and as she moved their counter forwards, Zak patted her on the knee. Her skirt was barely above her knee but Zak's touch on her skin sent a brief shock of excitement through her. Maybe it was the alcohol but she was enjoying flirting with the young man. "Time for a refill," Terry said as he shook the empty wine bottle. He stepped through the glass doors that led to the dining room. As they closed behind him he seemed to disappear. She saw the reflection of the room they were in and nothing of the room beyond. She also saw Gail lean over the table to restack the question cards. Zak's tongue was nearly al the way out of his mouth as he gawped at the cleavage before him. Abbie sighed and turned back to them, feeling the tiredness hit her. She yawned before apologising to her hostess. "Don't be silly," Gail reassured her. "You're welcome to go to bed any time you like." "I'm alright, I can at least see the game out," Abbie smiled. Terry returned and the game continued. He and Gail teased each other and were lagging behind until they seemingly came up with a plan to distract Zak. It took a couple of turns for her to notice but she realised that whenever it was Zak's turn to answer, Gail would give him a peek of either leg or cleavage. It was enough to put him off each time and allow the married couple to steal the win. "Another game?" Terry suggested. Abbie glanced at the clock. It was just past midnight and that was acceptable enough for her to make her excuses. "I think I'm going to have to call it a night I'm afraid." "No apology necessary," Terry said. "You sleep well." "Thanks, I'm sure I will." "You'll stay for a game, won't you Zak?" Terry asked the young man. "Mmmhmm," was all he could manage. Gail had leant across the board to replace the pieces. Abbie said her goodnights and went through the door into the dining room. As the door shut behind her she fumbled around for the light switch. After a few seconds, she relented and turned back to face Terry. Despite her waves he completely ignored her. Then she realised that in the darkness she would be totally unseen. Preferring darkness over embarrassment, she edged her way around the table until she found the staircase. Thankfully the light in her room was easier to find and she changed into the oversized t-shirt that she slept in. She turned off the light and slipped under the covers of her bed for the night. Abbie opened her eyes. It was still dark. She wondered how long she had been asleep so checked her phone. 1:14am Barely an hour had gone by but it had been long enough for her to build up a thirst. She tried to fight it but eventually she gave into the urge and started on her way to the kitchen. As she descended the stairs, she saw that the candles in the living room still flickered their light. Terry and Zak were now seated on the sofa, whilst Gail knelt in the middle of the floor. The coffee table had been pushed out of the way. They seemed to be giggling but Abbie couldn't hear what they were laughing about. In the kitchen she had found a glass in the dark and filled it from the tap. Downing the cool water almost in one had satisfied her thirst. She put the glass back on the side and stepped back into the dining room. She was about to go straight upstairs when something caught her attention. Gail had leaned forwards and slid her hand up Zak's thigh. The teenager had pushed it away and seemed to be saying something. Abbie moved around the table, staying in the shadows as much as she could. When she was halfway round she could just about tell what they were saying. "You shouldn't be embarrassed," Gail was telling Zak. "I'm not, well, it's just..." He glanced at Terry, who simply stared at his wife. "He won't object. He wouldn't dare. I tell you what..." she crawled forwards, placing both hands on his thighs, her breasts brushing against his crotch, "you show me yours and I'll show you mine." Abbie could clearly see that Zak was tempted but that he was also intimidated by Terry's presence. Abbie thought about leaving but was curious as to what was going to happen. She wanted to see what Zak would do. She wanted to see what Gail wanted to see. Gail leant back a little. "If yours is bigger than Terry's, I'll let you do more than just see mine." Abbie watched as the young man trembled as Gail unzipped his fly. Her hand disappeared inside and she saw Zak flinch slightly as Gail took hold of his cock. She pulled it out of his trousers, slowly squeezing it in her hand as it got harder and harder. Satisfied it was at its full length, Gail moved back and Abbie got a full view. Comparing it to Gail's hand, she guessed it was around 6 inches long. "Show him your pathetic cock," Gail said to her husband. The words shocked Zak and Abbie but not Terry. He simply obeyed and pushed his trousers and boxers down around his ankles. The proud and confident businessman sat on his sofa with his dick standing hard. "Do you see what I have to put up with?" Gail asked Zak. "How can any woman be satisfied with that. Terry wasn't tiny but even Abbie could see that he was at least an inch or two shorter than Zak's cock. He was being openly humiliated by his wife and yet he did nothing to object. Abbie continued to watch in fascination. Gail knelt upright and took a hold of the top of her dress. Zak's eyes were almost bulging out of his head. His cock throbbed with each rapid beat of his heart. Gail slowly peeled her dress down. She wore no bra and her ample tits soon fell free for the men to gaze at. Her skin was covered in the same light freckles that were on her face. Her breasts were firm but lacking the pertness of Abbie's. Gail's nipples were large and a much darker colour that contrasted against her fair skin. "Would you like to touch them?" Gail asked Zak. The teen glanced to Terry. "Forget about him. Do you want to touch my tits?" "Ye..yes." She leaned forwards and Zak tentatively lifted his hands, reaching up to squeeze Gail's breasts. He slid his hands around them, squeezing and kneading them. Abbie could see that he was either inexperienced or overwhelmed by the situation. "Look at him Terry, look at this young man playing with my tits. I bet you hate that, don't you?" Terry nodded but made no movement. Gail moved further between Zak's knees, presenting her nipples to his mouth. She moaned as his lips closed around her right nipple. He sucked on it eagerly, his tongue swirling around. "Mmm that's a good boy," Gail told him. "Get them nice and hard." Gail alternated her breasts as Zak obeyed her orders. Each time they were pulled from his mouth, Abbie could see the nipples growing longer, extending as she gained more pleasure from the young man she controlled. All the while, Gail's hand slipped gently up and down the shaft of Zak's cock. She was gentle, not wanting to overexcite her new plaything. She had unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them so that his cock and balls were fully exposed through the fly of his boxers. "That's a good boy," Gail said as she pulled her tits from Zak's mouth. "Look how hard he's got my nipples, you tiny loser." Terry's gaze followed her command. His hand edged closer to his own cock, standing hard. "Don't you fucking dare touch that until I tell you too," Gail barked at him. "Make yourself useful and make my pussy wet enough for his cock." Abbie was shocked as she watched from the darkness. These two men were at Gail's command and neither dared to disobey her. Zak sat back, almost terrified into letting her use him how she wanted. Terry was putting up no resistance to his wife's depravity. He crawled onto the floor, shuffling with his boxers and trousers around his ankles. He lifted Gail's dress to expose her knickers. They were black French knickers, the expensive lace covering Gail's shapely buttocks. Terry slipped his thumb under them and pulled them to one side. He leaned towards her pussy, his tongue extended, until it found its mark. Gail moaned as her husband's tongue probed her pussy. Abbie felt her own pussy tingle as she watched Terry lap at Gail's hairless pussy. Abbie couldn't resist slipping her hand down her body, lifting her t-shirt until she found her own knickers. They were a plain pair, far more ordinary than the lingerie Gail wore. They were soaking. Abbie felt her own wetness through the material and she felt the shooting excitement coarse through her body as her fingers felt her engorged lips. As Terry fucked her pussy with his tongue, Gail had lowered her head until her mouth was against Zak's cock. He watched, almost motionless as she licked her tongue from the base to the head. Up and down she went, wetting it with each lick before she finally slipped her lips around the head. Zak groaned as she bobbed slowly up and down. Her cheeks pulled in as she gently sucked the dick in her mouth. The only breaks she had in sucking him were to insult her husband. Abbie couldn't help but slip her hand beneath her knickers as she heard Gail chastising Terry as he continued to lick her. "Get my pussy nice and wet while I suck his cock hard." She would suck him into her mouth a few more times and then turn back to Terry. "When you've finally got me wet enough I'm going to fuck this while you watch, you pathetic excuse for a man." Abbie found it so exciting to see a woman in control, dominating these men that she would be afraid to even make a move on. Her pussy was slick and her fingers ran smoothly over her hardening clit. She kept the movements slow and steady, her breathing increasing as she felt the first climax approaching. Her face grew hotter as the blood rushed through her body. The intensity was growing, getting bigger and bigger as it travelled through her body, moving from her pussy until it engulfed her. She felt her knees buckle and had to steady herself with a hand on the table as she recovered from the orgasm. When she looked back, she saw Gail push Terry's head away. Even in the candlelight it was clear that Terry had done well. Gail's juices glistened as she stood and took a step towards Zak. He sat still as she turned away from him to face her husband. "Take a look at his hard, young cock before it disappears into my wet pussy." Terry sat on the floor, like a disobedient puppy, as Gail reached between her legs to take hold of Zak's dick. She sat slowly back, guiding it to her pussy. The head pushed apart her lips as she lowered herself down. Her moans were loud and primal, satisfying her base urges. Abbie slipped her fingers into her own pussy, trying to match the rhythm which Gail rode Zak's cock. As the hostess bounced up and down, she moaned louder and louder. Faster and faster she slid up and down his cock. Quicker and quicker Abbie fingered herself as she watched the exciting scene taking place barely a few feet away. "Look at me riding his cock," Gail taunted Terry. "Look how it stretches my pussy, fills me up like you never can." Abbie felt the next climax approach. She gripped the table in anticipation. The ecstasy flowed through her and she heard herself moan. Quickly she took her hand from the table, leaning onto it with her hip as she stifled her moans with her free hand. Gail was approaching her climax too. Her moans were getting louder, her insults more frequent. Terry was called "pathetic," "tiny," "boy," "slave," and other degrading descriptions. Abbie thought she had seen it all when Gail did something that shocked her further. "Lick my clit, you little bitch. Make me cum on his cock." Terry crawled over to his wife. Her pussy rose and fell, engulfing Zak's cock as it was pushed deep inside her. Terry extended his tongue until it found his wife's clit. Her movements were more restrained, allowing his tongue to lap at her clit whilst Zak bucked his hips to continue fucking her. Gail's moans became screams as she was pleasured by her husband and the teenager's cock in her pussy. Abbie watched as Terry jerked his own dick whilst he helped his wife to reach an intense orgasm. As she cried out that she was cumming, Terry's own cum splashed onto the floor beneath him. Gail held his head to her, forcing his tongue against her clit until her orgasm subsided. Satisfied, she tossed her husband aside and lifted herself from Zak's cock. He looked up at her, pleading with his eyes for some final satisfaction. Gail stood over him and reached down to grip his dick. "I'm going to make his cock cum now, you poor excuse for a dick," she said to Terry as she began vigorously wanking Zak. Abbie watched in fascination as Gail pumped his cock until he began to moan. In seconds white jets of liquid erupted from his cock as he came hard. It splattered onto the carpet, onto Zak, onto the sofa. Gail kept wanking until every last drop was milked from his softening cock. Gail then stood, pulling her dress back to its original place. Then she took a final look at Terry as he sat beneath her. "Clean up this mess," she ordered. Abbie realised that she was heading for the door and so ran for the stairs. She was barely out of sight when Gail opened the door. Abbie reached her bed and lay under the covers, her mind racing with the images she had just seen. She was shocked, appalled, disgusted, uncomfortable...but most of all, aroused. Once again, her fingers slipped beneath her knickers. ********** Please feel free to leave honest feedback and votes. Thank you