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Flash Mob Orgy Ch. 01

By: jay.palin



This is Part 1 of the third chapter in a series. The characters and their situation were developed in GINNY LAYS HER CLAIM, a previous chapter. For continuity, it’s best to read that chapter first. Many thanks for your votes and supportive feedback.

I’d known my 20-year-old future daughter Ginny for a couple of weeks. Our brief relationship had blossomed into a torrid affair driven by a manic sexual hunger for one another. Compounding the already dangerous liaison, we’d been caught fucking by a neighbor of mine – the willful and aggressive Erica – who’d witnessed our passionate coupling in the underground parking garage beneath my office. Several months before, the 26-year-old Erica – a gorgeous East Indian physician interning at a nearby hospital -- had tried unsuccessfully to lure me into bed. Fearing her betrayal to my employees and family, I ambivalently refused her advances by using my marriage as an excuse. Now I’d been compromised. I wondered what she might be thinking, what she might do… .

So, Jay, my feelings are hurt. You turn me down, yet I surprise you with that young blonde girl in your car. Why? You leapt into bed with that pretty Korean teacher who used to live in the building, and the Persian nurse – Hami – who lives upstairs. Why do you scorn me? I am not a woman who takes kindly to rejection! Nobody does that to me! Now you will not refuse me or I will cause trouble! I shall have you yet, you hypocrite!

Erica dropped by my office on Friday. It’d been months since we’d spoken…since I’d turned down her blatant offer of sex. Of course I knew why she was here. She was going to confront me – and maybe blackmail me – with the embarrassing scene with Ginny. Erica is a fairly tall, 5’8” woman with coal-black eyes and long, lustrous black hair. She reminds me of the Indian model and actress, Aishawarya Rai. Her blemishless, brown skin makes my mouth water, wondering if it’s half as sweet as the dark caramel candy it emulates. 

I was sitting alone in the outer office, surfing the net, when she walked in. The staff was gone for the day, having left early for a three-day weekend. I was not anxious to go home, since my wife Lee was driving to a sorority reunion several hundred miles away. I’d told Ginny I’d be busy for a couple of days – allowing me time to reflect on our steamy relationship -- so I was a weekend bachelor.

“You are busy?” Erica asked.

“No, I have a moment,” I responded, guardedly. “Like some coffee?”

“Thank you, no. I would just like to talk,” she said, amicably.

“Please come into my office,” I gestured, locking the front door and following her into my inner sanctum. Viewing her tall figure from behind, her slow saunter reminded me of a supple rope unwinding. 

She looked at a sketch on my drawing table and perched sexily on the edge of my high drafting chair. I sat at my desk a few feet away, admiring my exotic neighbor. Sitting higher than I, her long, shapely legs -- clad in form-fitting, black jeans -- stretched to the floor. Her feet ended in flat sandals, with straps embracing her slender, brown ankles. 

But it was her breasts that riveted my attention. Somehow my earlier memory of them had escaped me. Today her upper body was covered with a tight, long-sleeved black turtleneck sweater with vertical ribs. She appeared to be at least a 36 C. Pronounced curves surrounded nipples that were semi-prominent. They’re very full, I pondered absently, and I don’t detect a bra that surely would be needed to support their substance. My palms itched involuntarily. 

“May I have a cigarette?” Erica asked, breaking the spell. I retrieved a pack from the outer office. Holding my hand with her long, dainty brown fingers as I held a light for her, she looked up at me with piercing eyes from under prominent black brows and thanked me silently with a blink. Her scent wafted to me, bringing to mind a mixture of jasmine and cinnamon. 

“Keeping busy?” I asked.

“Yes. I have just finished a 72 hour shift. As you know, new residents work very long hours, with just a little sleep,” she remarked in her stilted English.  

“So I’ve heard,” I said distantly, continuing the small talk.

“Jay,” she said, cutting to the chase, “I did not mean to embarrass you on Tuesday. What you do is your business, but I would like to get to know you better…become friends. Months ago I was much too forward with you. Now I would like to do something…safe…something that we both can enjoy without being threatened.”

“Okay, what do you have in mind?” I asked, sincerely.

“Oh, just an outing. In San Francisco, tomorrow, there is a gathering in the park. Some music...dancing. I get out not often, and you seem very pleasant company,” Erica complimented.

“Thank you,” I said formally. “I’m flattered. Okay, I’m not busy this weekend and it’s been eons since I’ve been to the park. What time?” I inquired.

“Four o’clock. Meet me at my place at two-thirty and we can take my car,” she said.

“Great!” I said, a bit artificially. “Look forward to it.” Standing and stretching, I was at a loss for words.

Stubbing out her cigarette, Erica looked me slowly up and down – hesitated as if wishing to say more – then concluded: “Good, then. I will see you tomorrow, Jay.” She brushed me lightly on the hand as I opened the front door for her, creating a spark from static electricity as we parted. “Bye-bye.”

That woman is evil! I mused, as she walked into her apartment two doors down. And persistent! As coldly as I’ve acted toward her, she acts as if she still wants to fuck me.

I have got you now, Jay! Let me read that e-mail again: “Flash Mob Orgy.” Yes, there it is! 

“Come to Pilgrim Meadow in Golden Gate Park tomorrow at 4 p.m. sharp. Be prepared to participate in, or witness, a gathering of strangers who will engage in an act of collective love for one half hour, then disappear.” 

You will learn how I handle men, Jay, and, oh yes!, I will get to know you better! 

That night the cats and I ate chicken and broccoli, listened to some music, and I spoke on the phone with wife Lee. She’d be home Sunday afternoon. Ginny called and I assured her we could meet on Monday, since I’d be working even though it was a holiday.

Saturday morning was filled with chores. After mowing the lawns and doing errands, I showered and donned jeans, a polo shirt and boots. Grabbing the digital camera for no particular reason, I left and arrived at Erica’s just at two-thirty. She opened her door and I was stricken by her presence. Her raven hair was in an off-center ponytail. Her earlobes bore small diamond studs. She wore a pair of skin-tight, light yellow pants. They covered narrow but nicely-curved hips, pulling snugly at the crotch to create suggestive wrinkles. Her matching top was a sports bra-like garment, baring her shoulders and midriff all around, with a large open circle between her shoulder blades to reveal more caramel confection. The top clung to her breasts like a second skin, highlighting nipples in discreet pouts. There was a hint of light gold shadow above her long-lashed eyes and light brown lipstick with a touch of gold gloss that graced her sensuous, full-lipped mouth. Her bare tummy indicated a habit of abdominal exercise, and her smooth, square shoulders offset her abundant chest perfectly. “Dr. Bakshi, I presume?” I questioned, effecting the Stanley-Livingston British-ism.

“But of course, Mr. Palin. Nice to see you again,” she beamed, revealing her delectable back to me – smelling of lilacs -- as she turned to lock her door. Her high, protruding ass revealed the stretching seams of her pants. Her dusky skin shown through the material, suggesting only a thong underneath, if that. 

Erica drove us in her new, white Lexus, with me wondering abstractly how a medical resident could afford such a vehicle. Then I remembered having met her parents during a visit, when her father had mentioned working for the royal family in Bahrain. Erica was just your basic, struggling doctor-to-be, I thought, facetiously. 

Crossing the bridge in heavy traffic to San Francisco, we talked of her family. Her brother was a pilot for Lufthansa. While growing up, her parents were very strict with her, her father showing a fondness of corporal punishment to enforce his dictates. They’d been raised in Delhi, then the family had moved to the Middle East. She had led a very conservative life until attending medical school in Europe. 

The conversation switched to me. Yes, I was married, more than once. Yes, Lee and I had grown children, from different marriages. I’d gotten a doctorate and owned my own business. I’d been to India, briefly, in the early seventies, to Goa, the old Portuguese stronghold on the west coast. I knew little of the Hindu culture, other than practicing a form of meditation and a few words of Hindi. 

“And you have a young, pretty, blonde girl friend,” she said, from out of the blue.

“Aah..not really a girl friend,” I hedged, not mentioning that Ginny was my prospective daughter.

“It is okay, Jay. I am a doctor. I see many things that are not conventional in my work. You see, when my residency is finished, I want to get my Ph.D. in psychiatry. And, I am fascinated with human sexuality. In fact, I enjoy watching people interact sexually. The mating ritual is the most arousing part of the human experience.”

Boldly, I asked, half-jokingly, “Are you a voyeur?…or ‘voyeuse’?”

She snapped her head over at me and admitted, eyes shining: “Yes.” After a long pause, she then said, “And now that I have confessed to you one of my peculiarities, perhaps we can be more familiar.”

“You actually enjoyed watching Ginny and me on Tuesday, then?” I asked. “I think many people would’ve left out of embarrassment.” 

“It was an enchanting thing to see, Jay,” she said, silkily. “Is that her name…Ginny? Aside from my clinical interest, I was moved – excited, actually – by your amorous display,” punctuating her statement by reaching across and touching me softly on the sensitive underside of my bare forearm.

I was getting turned on myself, right there in the car. Her entire profile, from hairline to finely chiseled chin, past gracefully curved neck and collarbone to her magnificent rack, past the tight belly, comely legs, to her exquisitely boned, sandaled feet, filled me with a shivery feeling. She touched me again on the arm and my groin throbbed to the feathery brush of her right hand, which was growing more insistent.

“So, what possesses an older man – what age are you, fiftyish? – to risk his marriage with such a child?” Erica teased.

“She’s 20, Erica,” I said, defensively.

“Exactly!” she said. Waiting for a response, she added, “Well, I can see it is a private matter. Perhaps you will tell me later.” Then she changed the subject: “Do you know what a ‘Flash Mob’ is?” she asked, coyly.

Puzzled, I said: “Yeah, I think. Read in the paper about them being advertised on the Internet. A bunch of strangers get together at a specific time, do something crazy, then disperse. Sort of like pre-announced anarchy.”

“Right. That is what we are going to now,” she announced. “Only today’s Flash Mob is going to be an orgy!”

Nonplussed, I grunted, “Uhhg…,” remembering a couple of orgies well over twenty years before during the old Sexual Freedom League days. 

“Relax, Jay! I am not going to join it, nor should you. The risk of STDs is too great. It is just to satisfy a curiosity, that is all,” Erica rationalized.

Okay, Doctor, I thought to myself. I’ll play your silly game. But go easy with your touchy-feely tickling! I don’t need it to get excited! Steeling myself, I said weakly, “Mm…I’m glad I brought my camera.” 

“That is the spirit, Jay,” she grinned, stopping her stroking to negotiate a parking place next to a large green meadow in the park. 

I have you where I want you now, Jay. You look good enough to eat today. You are so big, so close to my ideal type! Your tan face, blue eyes, and sandy hair excite me so. And I can feel your hot gaze on me! I am so moist! Aiieee, I am seething to get you home. Then I will torture you so sweetly…and make you want me so much! But for now I will wait... .

As we walked to the middle of the meadow, Erica slid her hand softly into the crook of my arm, bringing herself closer to me, so that the back of my hand caressed her sumptuous thigh. Her sweet scent mingled with the smell of newly-mown grass as we picked a shady spot to sit. The few people already there took notice of her stunning physique as we reclined, waiting for something to happen. I thought that I could’ve done a lot worse than spend a few hours with such a gorgeous creature on a free Saturday. I started to say, “You look lo…,” when out of the trees ran a crowd of perhaps fifty people, laughing and running toward the center of the meadow, led by one guy with a bullhorn. It wasn’t four o’clock yet.

“Welcome friends, let’s get started,” he shouted. Much of the crowd looked like refugees from 1967’s Summer of Love: long-haired, tie-dyed, and a bit scruffy by the day’s standards. There were a few physically attractive specimens, though. Erica grabbed my forearm, digging in her nails, as the new arrivals began shedding their clothing, most of them giggling nervously.

I rose to my feet, now into the moment, and said: “Come on, Erica, let’s take a look!” We walked toward the naked crowd, slowly, as a few couples began hasty foreplay. Many other singles had congregated in a large gathering and begun stroking one another. Most of the initial touching was of torsos and breasts. Some more adventurous individuals concentrated on rubbing private parts. Still others dispensed with formalities, immediately performing fellatio and cunnilingus.

The meadow grew strangely quiet. The few people there when we’d arrived left quickly, embarrassed by the spectacle. Other than a few others, we were the only clothed observers. Then a low, rasping moan emanated from the participants as the excitement grew. I glanced through the camera view-finder and set it to auto-focus and zoom, allowing close-ups from a distance.

Immediately in front of us was a lesbian couple in a 69 position: one was a petite brunette – a fem clutching her glasses in one hand – and the other a blonde, sturdily built dom. Both had fair skin and were eagerly lapping at one another’s hairy gashes. The blonde was already mouthing entreaties for her partner to lick with more enthusiasm. Erica didn’t seem interested, so a surreptitious snap of the camera recorded their grappling and we walked on.

We next came upon a MMF threesome. A kneeling woman, a slim white girl of about nineteen with orange and green spiked hair and tongue pierced with a stud, was eagerly devouring the cock of a well-built twenty-something white man, with long brown hair, standing before her. The second man, a thin, barely legal Hispanic guy, was on his back with head between her legs, paying lingual homage to her cunt as she masturbated him. Erica’s hold on my arm tightened as the groans of all three indicated an extreme focus on their labors. I clicked the camera again. No one seemed to mind our blatant voyeurism.

I scanned the crowd and determined that the foreplay portion of the orgy was over. People were beginning to copulate everywhere. 

Erica pulled me about and pointed to a couple in their late forties: an enormously fat white woman in a hippie skirt thrown up to her sagging DD breasts, and a chunky black man whose flexing buttocks were driving his ample cock in and out of her dripping cooze. Her cellulite-filled thighs were thrown open to the sky as if beckoning God himself to fill her yawning chasm. A verbal sort, she showed her religious bent by yelling: “Jesus Christ, Irving…Jesus Christ, give it to me. Yeah, fuck me hard. Goddamn it, fuck me harder!” Wishing I’d brought a tape recorder, I stifled a giggle at the sight as the camera, instead, recorded her paeans.

I glanced back at the girl with spiked hair and her male companions. Snapping quickly, I captured the three of them linked, with the Hispanic guy on his back -- his tan rod stuck deeply into her ass -- while the other guy was on top of her, frenetically drilling her pussy to the accompaniment of her staccato grunts. 

Several gay couples were practicing fellatio. Two other gay men were engaged in butt-fucking in the missionary position. The receptor had his legs drawn back nearly to his ears, while his partner was systematically grinding his tool into his rectum. I quickly glanced at Erica, who shrugged her brown shoulders and turned to a more interesting sight. I clicked again.

Another couple commanded attention. The woman, a brown-skinned part-Mexican girl of about twenty-five with an exaggeratedly beautiful body, was on all fours, being humped from behind by an energetic white guy about her age. His hands gripped her hips as he plowed into her slick, 36-24-36 body. Other than Erica, she was the most statuesque woman on the grounds, with long brown nipples hardened into blunt spikes, which nearly touched the ground at the tips of her swinging, pendulous breasts. Her glistening black hair was tied atop her head in sumptuous curls, and her gaping, slack-jawed mouth was open as she gasped her approval: “Aiuh…aiuh…aiuhhh,” she grunted. 

Her accompanying dog had become excited. He was an oversized German Shorthair male, with head and ears erect, whimpering carnally, and running quickly around the sweating couple as if wanting to join in their tryst. His monstrous erection betrayed his lust and – more than once – he ventured in to lick at both ends of his mistress. “Go,” she repeated haltingly. “Go...go…go.” Empathizing with the dog, I snapped a shot for posterity as the woman smiled at Erica, who watched the cock of the woman’s partner plumb the mestiza’s moist depths. My next shot included the eager dog and the studious Erica. 

Erica rose to slide her hand into the back of my pants and boxers, a couple of fingers resting in my sweaty crack. I looked at her eyes, brilliant with excitement. She gave me a quick, pursed smile and licked her dry lips, the top one beaded with perspiration. With a noticeable shiver, she exhaled deeply and steered me to a large group. 

A chain of about twenty folk had formed a circle, a daisy chain of sucking and fucking. It included many colors of the human rainbow and as many ethnic strains as one could quickly imagine. Still fascinated by the girl with orange and green hair, I turned to see a muscular young black man laying on his side and fucking her face, while her cum-splashed body lay sideways on the ground. Both of her previous partners – now sated -- calmly watched as the white guy rubbed semen onto her tits. Clicking, I turned to the larger group.

A young Chinese woman, with her black hair in a Cleopatra cut, was calmly slurping the member of a muscular biker- type with a multitude of tattoos. His uncircumcised cock looked transplanted from a horse -- gnarled and veiny -- with what appeared to be skin transplants of differing hues. It contrasted with her clean, pure face -- coupled with her smooth, curvy little body and plump thighs -- and was captivating. The ungainly root stretched her thin lips like rubber bands and drew a continuous stream of spit. 

Her bottom portion was not being ignored either, as a slim white man was goring her in her tight little ass with his prick – while holding one leg on his shoulder -- causing her to squeak like one of those child’s toys each time he drove home. In his ass was the tongue of a thirty-ish white woman whose face was obscured by her long, flowing blonde hair. Her skinny butt – festooned with a large tattoo of a snarling wildcat -- was being serviced by a tanned, lifeguard-looking fellow whose muscles rippled each time he alternately boned first her gaping ass, then her dripping cunt. 


Flash Mob Orgy Ch. 01



Unable to crowd more individuals into the camera frame, I snapped a shot of them all, then another as the biker roared and began hosing the Chinese girl’s face with a torrent of thick cum. Recapturing his member in her mouth, Erica and I watched her throat muscles rhythmically begin a peristalsis that vacuumed his balls empty. When finished, she beamed into the camera -- displaying a mouthful of stringy semen – which caused Erica to moan and probe into the crack of my ass. 

We moved quickly to the next few links in the human chain. A young, statuesque black woman lay on her back, first licking the swinging balls, then the asshole, of the lifeguard. Between her outspread legs was a man about my age, though fat and balding, hunching away at her depths and groping and twisting her ample breasts roughly. Her hands clutched his buttocks – nails digging into them – and she urged him to screw her faster and harder. “Yeah, baby! Yeah. Gimme’ that log. Fuck me, baby! Yeah…yeah. Do me good…yeah…fuck me good, baby!” she screamed. Her trembling, stretch-marked thighs, split by the man’s generous weapon, were captured in a photo as I stifled another chuckle. 

There the chain broke. Close to the occupied fat man a few inches away lay the head of a Japanese girl with red-dyed hair, apparently having just climaxed from a foray with her now-languid partner. Her angelic face was embellished with several metal piercings, and was wet with the slick juices she’d gotten from the black woman’s slit just inches away. The peaceful, post-orgasmic look on her face was a mirror-image of that of her man, a forty-something Latino who had just spewed ropes of thick spunk from her chin to her muff. Laying between her legs with his head on her soaking pubis, he was watching an angular, heavily tattooed white woman of thirty, with short blonde hair, try to restore life to his flagging member. All of these folks and more became grist for my photo mill, as I felt Erica pull her hand from my pants, dig her nails into my shoulder, and move a few paces to drop to her knees next to two people who’d separated from the circle.

These two had forsaken the leisurely pace of other participants. Lying on her back with legs thrown wide to accept her momentary lover was a stunning, light tan Filipina – probably 36-22-36 – with erect brown nipples atop firm, upstanding breasts. Her thin, black partner was sitting – ass-on-his-heels -- holding up her hips and rapidly filling her with a long, very thin, penis. Her body was covered with a sheen of sweat, and she was gasping “Unhh…unhh…unhh” on each in stroke. Momentarily, he pulled all the way out to reveal his weapon, which caused her to open her eyes and – with the rest of us – see the size of its circumcised head. It was easily twice the diameter of the shaft and, when it resumed its work, pulled out great gobs of her juices that ran down her slick taint. Peering closely at the junction of their organs, Erica herself began to bead with perspiration -- scrabbling up to peer closely into the woman’s face -- as the Filipina passionately drew her man to herself and closed her eyes, slapping her loins noisily against his while resuming her breathy litany. I quickly snapped a shot of Erica’s captivated face as she shared a contact high with the delighted Asian.  

A very young-looking Vietnamese woman, though probably twenty-two – with beautiful, slanted, eyes and a V-shaped face – had just finished masturbating an athletic, whitebread type to an erection. She’d been unable to suck his cock in her petite mouth because of his very thick girth --easily the diameter of a beer can -- and had used saliva and both hands instead. With him on his back, she’d poised her creamy body above him with feet flat on the ground, and teased her puffy, engorged outer cunt lips with the dark red head of his member. Her tight opening dribbled a copious amount of transparent juice onto his probe as she slowly sat on him, facing his feet. Her waif-like body had A-cup breasts, and nipped in to form her waist, around which he could nearly link his hands. 

Her most significant feature was her high, globular ass that – once she began her rapid thrusting – flexed and drew the jock’s hands to it from her waist. As she was lifted and his cock was withdrawn, her engorged inner cunt lips pulled out obscenely to grip the huge, angry shaft, laving it with her juices. She threw her head back and began a continuous, high keening sound as he lifted her to the crown of his dick and let her weight drop her to his balls as I photographed. “Eee…eee…eeeh…eeehh,” she hissed. They continued this noisy ballet, undeterred by Erica -- as she knelt between the man’s legs -- closely studying the rhythmic reappearance of his cock vacating the girl’s vagina. 

I glanced over at the Mexican woman with the dog, who was still on her knees. Her cunt was now pointed directly at me, with lips oozing cum from her previous encounter, and she was bent over her dog, now lying on his back. Her male partner was restraining the pooch, now shrieking and thrashing his head back and forth with tongue flailing, as I noticed her right arm moving back and forth in a telltale manner. Every once in a while, her head would drop suggestively to the beast’s belly. Then the dog yelped repeatedly, and onlookers backed away, save for one guy who had remained clothed from the outset. He unzipped his pants to reveal a monstrous schlong, dropped to his knees behind the woman, and – apparently receiving tacit permission – began plumbing her hairy crevice. Moving around to her front, I took another picture…this time of her sweaty, blissful face, as Erica gave me an approving glance.

Moving on, I photographed more couples in the female superior position. One included a very active red-headed white woman with a Caesarean scar, flat on her feet and plunging up and down on a cock with the help of two male compatriots assisting her on the vertical upstroke. Her amply endowed partner, an American Indian man, flexed his hips on each down stroke, and each time her sparsely covered, kinky red-haired vulva met his groin, her pussy emitted a loud farting noise that indicated a substantial internal diameter. Soon, one of her supporters stuck his erection into her mouth as the other jacked himself off. After a rapid succession of thrusts and jerks, both men spasmed, resulting in me photographing her face, tits, and shoulders being showered with spurting jizzum. 



The other female-superior couple was a Middle Eastern woman – possibly Lebanese -- in her fifties, very well preserved, with a thick, hairy batch extending from just below her navel between her legs to surround her ass. She was pressing her fulsome breasts down onto the chest of an Asian man of about the same age whom she’d mounted, and was zealously slipping her cunt back and forth on his embedded dick. Mounting her from the rear was a young Arabic man who could easily have been her son, matching the rhythm of the other two with his cock in her asshole. 

After fucking both men for a while – resting on her knees and forearms and voraciously sucking the tongue of her Asian partner – the Lebanese woman orgasmed suddenly and shuddered, screaming out “Uh yes! Uhg, yes! Uhg…ugh, Uhg-yeah. Ehhh. Ehhh. Ehhh. Uunkg!” Still more pictures.

Erica and I met again next to three others, a thirty-something black-haired woman with a stocky build and two men, a bearded one about forty and the other in his twenties, who was manipulating her tits. The woman looked like a Latina and, observing closely, I realized that I knew her! She was the waitress/girlfriend of a guy I knew who owned an Italian restaurant! She was Peruvian, with that singular, smoky-brown complexion, and had the lovely, mature body of a woman who’d worked hard during her young life, and who enjoyed her sex brisk and matter-of-fact. She was entertaining the older man, a bearded guy who was humping her like a missionary, and looking around to assess the crowd’s performance. She apparently recognized me, since she grasped my pant leg and pleaded for me to join her. Sitting up and nearly dislodging her lunging partner, she grabbed my crotch and for a moment I almost allowed her to pull down my zipper. “Please! I want to suck your cock!” she pleaded. 

“I’m here with someone,” I said, pointing to Erica, who immediately gave me a baleful look, upset at the fact that our objective, observer status had been compromised. 

“Then join us!” she urged. “I give the best head in the world,” she gasped, as the bearded guy stiffened and began cumming in her. “I know you’ll love it! Please!” she said, panting. 

“Sorry, I’m spoken for,” I hedged. “Can I take your picture instead?” I asked.

“Not if I can’t suck your cock!” she bristled. “Come see me at the restaurant. We’ll work something out,” she added.

“Perhaps,” I said, now disappointed in myself for my hesitance. What was I saving myself for?  

Erica then led me to the masturbators. The young Chinese girl, who’d previously brought solace to the biker, was on her knees in a circle of men who were busily wanking themselves in preparation for a bukkake finish. A bit out of sorts, the girl began whining haltingly while opening and closing her mouth in frustration. She then grabbed the two closest cocks and, jacking one, stuffed the other deeply into her throat, much to the joy of its bearer. She wanked the other cock as an enterprising older black man lay down on his back and – without disturbing her throating and manual labor – slipped under her and lowered her quickly to the hilt onto his erection. Conscious of my camera battery getting low, I snapped judiciously. Then the eruptions began. 

One young stud walked up to the Chinese girl and pumped four copious shots onto her head, spraying her hair from crown to eyebrows. The guy in her mouth then came, forcing his thick load out of the corners of her gasping mouth to drip on the black man screwing her below. Yet another young man – a wiry Filipino – came to the side of her face and artfully painted it with a few more shots of thick, yellow spunk. Her pert, B-cup breasts, so inviting to the mouth, were soon drenched by two others, whose loads dripped off her tender nipples to land on the man fucking her. Finally, he emptied his balls into her, as she quickly ground her slit on him to and fro, just as another man behind her spent himself on her back, coating her from shoulders to coccyx. She’d become my photo model-of-the-day. 

The collective moans of the crowd began to quiet. I looked back and surreptitiously snapped the Peruvian woman, who was vigorously consummating a blow job on her twenty-something companion. His lean buttocks and belly flexed repeatedly as he bent over in a half crouch, all the while she was playing his load over her face and chest, from eyebrows to nipples. 

I was numbly excited by the whole experience, feeling giddy and more than a bit horny. I looked dumbly at Erica, whose chest was heaving from hyperventilation -- her face now aglow with perspiration -- and realized that I’d had an erection nearly the whole time. She looked at the stiff bulge from my crotch to the top of my jeans and, taking me by the hand, whispered in my ear: “Please take me home now.” For us, it was over.

On the way to the car, the lifeguard type whom I’d photographed walked past us and said jauntily: “You two don’t know what you’re missing,” as he slung a damp tee shirt over his bare shoulder.

Back in the car – out of breath -- we both breathed deeply to relieve the accumulated tension, and sat for a few seconds, giggling. Actually, we hadn’t missed much, other than glandular release. Erica removed a pack of cigarettes from the glove box and we lit up. “Like to smoke after sex, do you?” I queried, noticing a damp spot at the junction of her thighs as my erection began to subside. 

“Yes,” she said quietly. “What did you think of all that?”

“I found a lot of it funny, and am slightly surprised the police didn’t show up. I feel guilty, too…for spying, and…I’m a bit disappointed there wasn’t more ethnic diversity,” I deadpanned, starting the car and pulling into traffic since she’d asked me to drive.

“What?!” she exclaimed. “There was about one of everything there!”

“Unh-unh,” I said. “For instance, I didn’t see any Lao or Thai. Nor did I see any East Indians,” I said pointedly, looking her teasingly in the eye.

“That’s easy to explain,” she said. “Indians are very conservative, sexually.” 

“Publicly, you mean,” I corrected her. “I can understand South Asian types not being there, since they’re relatively recent immigrants to this country. But Indians have been here for ages! The civilization is thousands of years old! And what about the Khama Sutra?” I probed.

“I will not debate you on this, Jay,” she said, reaching for the camera to view the pictures we’d gotten. “Who was your friend?” 

“Just a waitress I met one night in a restaurant,” I answered, noting that Erica had kept me on a short tether during the spectacle.

“I see,” she said. Then her attention returned to the camera.

I knew you would enjoy that, Jay. You try and be so cool and calm, but I saw your big lund in your pants. Oooo, all of it made my choot so wet. I am so very ready for you now. You had better be ready for me!

Erica scanned each picture through the camera’s window -- nearly three dozen – many of them “money shots,” with faces covered with cum. She became very animated and tactile, touching me meaningfully whenever she made a point about style or technique. A true voyeur, I thought. 

She was satisfied that we’d done some very real basic research; enough, she joked, to organize a dissertation topic on human sexuality. As she continued scanning, the wet spot in the crotch of her light yellow pants grew larger. Then she suddenly leaned over to me and flicked her long, black eyelashes on my cheek, brushed her lips along my jaw, and whispered: “Thank you.” She then began stroking my thigh with her lovely, long fingers, which grew more persistent as she concentrated on teasing my cock and balls through my pants as we neared her apartment.

I knew what was coming.

End of Part 1. Part 2 is coming very soon, in which Erica shows Jay her raunchy talents and other imaginative attributes. Many thanks for your votes and encouraging feedback!



Flash Mob Orgy Ch. 02



This is Part 2 of the third chapter of a series. The characters were developed in FLASH MOB ORGY – Part 1. For continuity it’s best to read that part first. Once again, thanks for your votes and feedback.

Erica slowly massaged my cock and balls as we drove to her apartment. Witnessing the brief, steamy orgy in the park had excited us both to the point where we had to do something about it. For this scheming though delectable woman – a young East Indian doctor blessed with exotic looks but, like me, unburdened by conventional morals – the scene had been a clinical voyeuristic exercise. For me – a fifty-year-old, married professional who was in the midst of an affair with Ginny, my future daughter – it had been an amusing interlude that evened-out my fear of being blackmailed by Erica. The pictures of her observing those involved in the bacchanal were sufficient evidence of her salaciousness for me to use against her should she plot any betrayal. 

We parked in the underground garage and took the elevator to Erica’s apartment. Closing and locking the door, she brought me a drink of Otard cognac and went to the bathroom as I checked out her décor and books. Returning, she put on a CD of soft sounds of nature: waves splashing, trees rustling, birds chirping, etc., much to my private, cynical amusement. She went to the counter, a bar separating the kitchen from living room, and returned with another snifter of cognac and a crepe pan on which lay a little brown button that looked like the end of a small sausage. “Do you know this?” she asked, fixing me with her black eyes, as we sat on a low chaise facing a coffee table.

“Looks like opium to me,” I said, remembering some fantastic stuff I’d tried in Iran decades before.

“I am impressed with you, Jay. You have missed not much in your life,” she murmured, lighting the button with a charcoal lighter and inhaling the smoke through a cardboard tube she’d magically produced. I accepted the tube, she lit the button for me, and I drew in deeply.

Within 60 seconds the first blissful wave hit me and – remembering the drug’s profound effects – my defensive posture melted. 

Simultaneously, Erica and I looked at one another, and immediately our hands became busy with undressing. There was no urgency. Her fingertips glided over my pecs to my waist, slowly peeling my polo shirt over my head. Mine ran up her arms, over her shoulders, then down to the bottom of her sports bra and stripped it free. Our nude torsos met with a buzzing sensation as it seemed our skins wished to melt together into one. She leaned toward me and I lay back, submitting with wonder to her incredible softness as her breasts flattened themselves against my grateful chest.

Then we kissed, slowly and languorously, unhurried, our senses of taste and smell pleased with the gifts we were sharing. Erica’s mouth was as sweet as fresh dew, the floral bouquet of her face and neck more intoxicating than the drug we’d just sampled. She pulled up from me and freed her ponytail, letting her thick, black hair course over my face, neck, and chest. She then moved slightly up and, looking me square in the eye, proffered a most shapely, large breast to my open mouth. Its pouting, dark-brown nipple immediately swelled with pride as I sucked it softly. She moaned, “Ohhhh, Jaaay…,” then hissed as I took more of her tit into my mouth, “Yesss…oh, yesss.” Cupping it in one hand and tweaking its nipple, I switched to the other breast, laving it similarly in response to her soft, vocal encouragement. 

Then she pulled away quickly, her chest heaving, and gasped, “Oh, no…too fast, too fast.” She then stood up, revealing fully for the first time her flawless rack. Easily a C-cup, maybe a D, there was no sag. The tan skin below her clavicle swelled out above the nipples to form a magnificent ramp of flesh for each orb. The generous swells on the sides and below each one stretched around her aureoles to form, it seemed, two lush planets from another celestial constellation. They sat high on her chest, and – even in the unlit room -- shadowed the tops of two columns of well-conditioned, vertical abdominal muscles. But she had not stood up to show me her wares.

Erica fired up more opium and for a few moments we enhanced our buzz. Then she stood again and unbuttoned her pants, sliding from them like a lazy serpent, stripping to a golden, silk thong that had become moistly transparent from her excitement. I took her pants from her and sniffed the crotch lewdly, wanting to sustain myself for hours with their musky stench. As I did this, she unfastened my jeans and, pulling off my boots, quickly removed them and my underwear. 

I had risen to the occasion. Her eyes devoured my proud erection, its ample stature pointing rigidly to the sky. She reached out to touch it, her breath rasping audibly through her open mouth, but I gently pushed away her hand, instead linking my thumbs in her thong and drawing it past her knees to the floor. I then brought her to me – standing -- as I sat, and pushed my nose softly into her wavy black muff, inhaling her juicy, sweaty scent. She then reached down and began stroking my full length, twisting her hand each time she reached the corona. I, in turn, cupped her vulva with one hand and with the other on her sumptuous ass, leaned toward her to burrow little breathy kisses into her rich center. Again she hissed: “Oh, yes, Jay. That is it. That is…iiiIIT!”   

I stood up, brought her to the counter near the kitchenette, and leaned her back against it. “What are you doing?” she asked, softly.

“Being selfish, and devouring you with my eyes,” I answered, backing away, convinced that I made sense. Apparently I did, since she smiled dreamily. Her long hair covered her shoulders, licking at her breasts, and her pronounced waist led to narrow, but very gracefully curved hips. A small diamond winked at me from her deep-set navel. A couple of inches below, her bush began its descent, beginning with a narrow peak in line with her navel, then widening to reach the nexus of her legs with her crotch. Her softly fleshed, slim thighs drew downward toward signature knees and softly flared calves. Her ankles were small, her feet long and slim. My cock pulsed and the glans swelled as I looked at her. “Mmmm, I see that you approve,” she cooed.

Picking up my drink, I swirled it and requested: “Please turn around.” Erica did so, shyly revealing her soft, brown back and waist, nearly obscured by her loosened hair, and high, firm ass. She peeked slyly over one shoulder, then bent over slowly to retrieve the bottle of cognac from a cabinet under the counter. Her cheeks opened just enough to reveal a violet-colored anus, surrounded by a few hairs. Below it lay the entrance to Paradise. Her purple-lipped cunt was slightly open, showing some of the afternoon’s wetness, and I fought the urge to mount her immediately. 

Coming back to me, she knelt on the floor and refilled my glass. “You enjoy being tortured, yes?” she asked. “I do love doing it, you know…watching your face hurt so sweetly when I show my body to you.” 

“This isn’t torture, my dear. This is as close to heaven as I’ll ever get,” I pronounced.

“You are not a typical American, Jay. You are unique,” Erica said, flatteringly. Then she picked up a jar of clear, brown stuff from a shelf under the table. “This is a nice, special gel that we will enjoy as the day goes on. Let us rub it on. It is edible, by the way,” she assured, as she began smoothing it into my legs, from ankles to crotch, though avoiding my cock and balls. “Now let me coat your upper body,” she said, softly rubbing the soothing substance into my pores.

The gel smelled a bit like mint, and began to match the internal buzz caused by the opium with another, more tingly, sensuous glow on the skin. “Now you may turn over,” she prompted. She massaged it into my back, paying a lot of attention to my buns, and generously coated my anus and crack. “Now you may do me!” she chirped, “But don’t do my choot…my pussy…until later, please.”

I rubbed it on her entire body, interspersing my strokes with light kisses, which met with thankful mewlings. She had very light muscle tone, except for the hard pecs suspending her breasts, her tight tummy, and luscious, globular ass. Massaging her breasts was an act of worship. They were marvelous to the touch, yielding their taut inner tissue to my strong kneading and causing her nipples to stand erect like uncut brown diamonds. Her eyes were closed as I did her breasts, and her mouth was slightly open, through which she breathed in ecstatic little gasps that sounded like “Yeeh…yeehh…yeeehhh,” and murmured ”Aahm…aaahhmm…aaahhhmmm.” 

Likewise, Erica’s ass was a delight. As she had done to me, I coated her cheeks liberally with the gel, and applied a fresh dollop into her crack, which I -- with lascivious intent -- forced into her asshole with one finger. At first she stiffened, but then relaxed to allow the crude penetration of her dark passage. “Uunnggh, oh, Jay…Jay…it is…good,” she mumbled. “Please do it some more,” she pleaded, reaching back and around blindly to encourage me as I probed her hole. Finally, her breathing returned to normal and she raised up, saying: “Now we should have some more opium and then go to the other room.” 

Who am I to dispute the advice of a medical professional? 

Glowing, both from the opium and the mysterious gel, we entered her bedroom and I was taken back by its décor. There were mirrors everywhere but on the ceiling! Even the facings on her furniture were mirrored glass! Glass panels virtually surrounded the giant futon covered with huge pillows that served as her bed. A large Cheval mirror stood close by, suspended at its center on each side to allow adjustable vertical reflection. I now fully understood Erica’s voyeuristic proclivities, and was she ever prepared! 

We put the gel on a bedside table with our snifters and the cognac, and sank softly to the futon. We embraced, tentatively, and began kissing and nibbling one another over our entire faces and upper bodies. Our tongues dueled with one another’s as I probed inside her mouth, then I carefully traced each crevice -- licking between her succulent upper lip and jaw – then between each tooth. We sucked ears, throat hollows, and armpits. The earlier afternoon had left us with a salty tang that we sipped happily, mingling it with the minty gel. Our breathing became more rapid and my body ground hungrily against her, to which she responded by opening her legs and hunching her mound against me. We continued, our passion increasing, as we began moaning nonsensical entreaties to one another. Our interlocked images danced in the surrounding mirrors like two writhing snakes as our squirming became hurried, accompanied by her soft cries and my deep groans. 

I kissed slowly down to her breasts, once again capturing them in my mouth like sugary candy, slobbering over them to her rising moans. I then slowly traced my tongue down over her tight abs to her thick bush. Her knees were by now spread open and raised slightly. In my mildly drugged state I pictured her cooze as something I had to devour or risk being devoured by it. Erica looked down at me with fogged eyes and – wordlessly – spread her purple pussy lips with one hand and, with the other on the back of my head, drew my face into her cunt.

I whimpered slightly as I shoved my hardened tongue into her slick, pulsing gash. She wheezed “Aaiiieee!,” threw her head back to reveal her flawless neck, and began exhorting me with a combination of Hindi – meaningless to me – and wracking, panting gasps. “Uuhh…uuhhh…uh,” she grunted, lost in an ecstatic, rhythmic chant as ancient as her native civilization.

I was possessed by Erica’s cunt. I tongued the dark outer lips lavishly, using broad vertical strokes, and alternately stabbed into her pink opening with just the tip, which brought forth a thick stream of her juices. She had released her fingers from her lips to be replaced by my two thumbs, which opened them like two halves of a freshly split fig. Her exhortations in Hindi were fully replaced by feral grunts as I then began flicking at her clit, emulating the soft wings of a butterfly. Her grunts then dissolved into sounds predating Sanskrit and Indo-European, continuous peals of varying volume that segued into a cross between exhalations and throaty groans. “AhhhhMmmmmUhhhhhhhh,” she uttered, stopping to breathe, and began the sound again, over and over. 

After a couple of minutes, her thighs became rigid and clamped my head, yet she continued her unusual paean, showing no outward sign of climactic peaks or valleys. I continued until she abruptly stopped, making no sound, and pushed her opening fully onto my tongue while raising her hips slightly. Her thighs trembled for about 45 seconds with my upper lip smashing her clit, and she then mouthed a soft squeak and collapsed, once again to resume breathing and softly moaning. She lay limp for about five minutes, gently stroking my hair and face. 

Wordlessly, Erica penetrated me a with a sloe-eyed look and – raising on one elbow – reached into her bedside table drawer and withdrew a clear plastic contraption with two small paddles about six inches long, attached to two right-angled handles that opened them with an enclosed spring. “Do you know what this is?” she whispered.

“Mmm, yeah, a speculum,” I responded.

“Please open me with it,” she begged. “Wait, I want to see,” she said, turning her body on an angle and adjusting the Cheval mirror to view her swollen, soaking, purple and pink opening.

I grabbed the gel and lubed the instrument, warming it and making it slippery. She then produced a penlight and a feather, placing them beside her. I carefully inserted the instrument in her vagina – after all, I was new to this, not being a gynecologist – and spread open her tender lips as she bit her lower lip. Grabbing the penlight, I played it inside, revealing her most private passage, to which she asked “What do you see, Jay?”

“I see your succulent birth canal and your cervix,” I mumbled clinically. “The good news is that it’s not blue, so you’re not pregnant. There is no bad news.”

Erica giggled lazily and implored me: “Put the feather inside and brush my cervix…please.”

I did so, and she thrust her hips upward, throwing her head to the side and gritting her teeth. I withdrew the feather and she said, “I am so very sensitive there. You will see…later.” 

I could believe it. Her deliciously dark pink, muscular vagina was shallow, not equipped to take me balls-deep. As she looked into the mirror and moved her hips for a better look, I thought that I’d have to be very careful with her. “It is not a problem, if you are gentle. In the meantime, I will return the gift you just gave me.” With that, I withdrew the speculum and it was lost in the pillows along with her other paraphernalia. 

She eased me onto my back, and my drug-induced erection pointed at the sky. She plopped herself between my legs, enticing breasts bouncing against my thighs, and wrapped her long fingers around my cock, teasing it from scrotum to head with long, full strokes. “You have a beautiful lund,” she said, licking the corona lavishly. I must have looked puzzled, because she said “Your…penis…your splendid cock.”

“Ohhh, aaahhh,” I groaned, as she slowly sank her velvety mouth onto me until I nudged the top of her throat. Hesitating, she swallowed a couple of times, each time absorbing more of my shaft, until I passed the natural obstruction and lodged in her throat. After a few seconds she withdrew, breathing loudly through her nose, and repeated the first cycle. Gradually, she inhaled more air each time, allowing longer ecstatic intervals deep in her throat. Each time she withdrew, her hand jacked me up and down in a twisting motion until I thought my glans would pop off my dick and I’d hemorrhage. Throughout her ministrations, Erica would alternate between looking at me and witnessing herself gobble my cock in one of the mirrors. I’d seen myself fucking in mirrors several times, but I was in awe of her extraordinary beauty. 

Pausing to rest her jaw, she raised herself slightly, gasping in lungs full of air, and rapidly pulled on just the head. It had lost its red, angry color and decreased a bit in diameter, yet my penis itself appeared longer than ever before. This salacious wench had grown me, right before my very eyes!

“Mmm, yes! That is what I wanted!” she exulted. “Now, Jay, you will feel le petit mort!”

My momentary fascination with her knowledge of French dissolved as she once again throated me, reestablishing her gentle rhythm until her nose planted itself in my pubic batch each time I was engulfed. I looked into the mirror to see her full lower lip caress my balls on the down stroke and marveled at the fact that she could extend her long tongue beyond it to lick my testicles. Looking back at her I saw her upper lip stretched obscenely over the top of my shaft, massaging the bulging veins that threatened to burst from overload. 

My excited cries and grunts drove her berserk. The titillation of the day and my abstinence since two days previous drove me toward the moment of truth as she furiously pounded her mouth onto me. She began grunting each time she pulled off of me, her jerking hand sending spit and mucous flying, and I thrust upward one final time – shouting “Haaaaa…aaahh…aaahh” in time with her plunges -- and expelled a mammoth load. The first shot went deeply into her throat, which caused a momentary cough to clear her airway, and two more went into her mouth. She then grasped me and wanked the remainder onto her lips, neck, clavicle, and breasts, slowly pulling the final dribbles onto her nipples as she posed in the mirror.

Erica had not swallowed. She opened her mouth slightly, losing a few bubbly drops as they ran down her chin, and mumbled, “Mmm, Jay…taste good…healthy…not too much smoke…drink.” Then she slowly ingested my cum as if it were a laboratory sample and, picking at the gobs on her breasts with one finger, licked the residue sexily with her tongue. 

Laying on me fully, she placed her head on my shoulder, snuggled, and murmured, “I knew I could make you like me! I knew it would be good!” I was happily limp in more ways than one…and very thankful for Erica’s wicked yearnings. 

It was nearly dark outside, and hunger pangs began. “We will shower and eat,” she said, which we did, soaping one another generously in the shower and teasing one another’s genitalia until I tried to mount her from behind. “Not yet, Jay, we must eat and then we will do the kundalini!” she giggled, gently pushing me away. At this point I decided to stay the night. 

Naked, we ate some very tasty leftover curried lamb, with tea, in the bedroom -- childishly feeding one another chunks of meat -- and bathed our hands with aromatic oil after sharing a toothbrush. Erica turned on some muted, colored lights – red and blue – which cast surreal shadows throughout. Invigorated and horny, and very familiar with each other, we lay comfortably and smoked more opium until the buzzing glow returned. 

Then we began again to make love. It felt as if we were not only wrapped around each other, but through each other as well...as if we were stepping through mirror images of ourselves to become the other. Our limbs entwined themselves in ways to astound a yoga master, with the singular goal being to share pleasure. Our mouths and noses sensed new essences, drawing mysterious sweet liquids and vapors from the other. We soared to a new, cosmic, sensual level, which resembled a bodily tingling that did not stop at our physical boundaries, but expanded to include a pulsating, preternatural universe known only to us. 




Flash Mob Orgy Ch. 02



At one point -- as she lay on her back with me on top -- she relaxed her arms and hands, which lay curled just next to her shoulders. She scorched my soul through half-lidded eyes and I placed my erect cock in the moist, black curls outlining her pussy. Pulling her outer lips apart -- but not entering her -- I lay it like a log in the furrow, causing her to jerk with a spasm as I contacted her clit. She moaned her approval, and I began thrusting my weapon back and forth which made her plump pussy look like the fabled “camel toes.” Grasping me tightly to her breasts, she chanted “Yes, Jay, make me cum just like this…now…please…uh…uhh…uhhh…uhhhh. Oh, I lo…ove it! Aahh…aahhh…aaahhh, oooohh, Jay…YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES!” she screamed, cumming more quickly than I thought possible. 

Recuperating for only a few moments, Erica sat up and spread her legs -- with knees wide apart -- and we interlocked in a sitting position facing each other, with her legs over mine. My raging erection was about to feel her inside for the first time! Still sopping from our previous play, I slowly entered her heat. Moving forward, with both of us leaning on our backward-supporting arms, we closed the gap between our bodies until my throbbing glans pushed against her pulsating cervix. She closed her eyes on contact and I realized that a full two inches of me remained unengulfed. Nevertheless very content, we both grasped one another around each other’s back and – kissing deeply -- began a delightful rhythm that lacked the frenetic plunging movement, but was marked by the soft caressing of my cock by her constantly flexing internal muscles. 

That feeling of oneness returned, and we fucked unhurriedly and gently, losing all track of time. While coupling this way we were both entertained by our grappling image in the mirrors. Wanting to enhance this, we leaned back on our arms and slowly pushed and pulled our loins at each other, making soft, liquid, slapping sounds, while trying other variations to heighten our sexual bliss.

Then, for further variety, I lay on my back with feet toward the Cheval mirror, which Erica grasped by the sides, and – while on her knees -- lowered her widespread cunt on my rampant cock. We went slowly at first, then more rapidly as she gauged the depth to which she could take me. Her eyes remained glued to the mirror image of my cock entering her cunt. The throbbing, white column – looking massive as it speared her purple lips -- paid pulsing homage to her exotic matrix. Her pink inner lips spread broadly to accept my girth and – like one of our orgy-mates earlier in the day – emerged from their refuge to slickly grab and pull at my invasive member. Gripping the mirror’s side until her knuckles turned white, she began hammering up and down my shaft – without regard to any possible internal pain – and began to yelp “Oah. Oahh. Oahhh. Yea. Oah. Oah. Oah,” then “Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!” until I reached around to rapidly strum her clit. She then totally lost control and came furiously with a piercing scream: “Nnnngaaahhh!” Her grasp broke from the mirror and I pulled her back against me – her spread legs in the air -- and repeatedly plunged her slick, writhing, brown body back and forth on my tumescent root as she mewled the last of her climax. 

I had not cum, and her aromatic juices were covering us. Though not angry, I responded roughly, picking up her limp form and pushing her to all fours, with her protesting, “Mmm, please not yet, Jay…not ye…Aaahhg!” as I swiftly slammed my bone into her gaping gash. Gone was the gentleness, gone the gentlemanly fuck, I wanted to plant my seed deeply in her. In the back of my drug-addled mind I suddenly wanted to master this woman, this Erica, this evil, manipulative cunt who had engineered this whole day – and night – for me. I gripped her narrow hips with both hands and threw myself into her with all the subtlety of a rogue elephant. Snarling and gnashing my teeth, grunting and whipping my loins at hers like a cracking whip, I relived an experience for the first time in a long while that recounted my raping a young woman who had teased me unmercifully decades before. 

My exertion soon bore fruit. Selfishly, I plunged into her, smashing into her cervix with my cruel probe, and – shouting in triumph -- unleashed a torrent of spunk that oozed in a froth out of her as my heaving body continued bucking, then slowed and stopped. We then both collapsed, melding with one another, and slept for a while with Erica whimpering softly. 

What time I awoke I’m not sure. It was dark outside, I had to pee and had an abominable thirst. I rose quietly to avoid waking Erica, peed and wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water. While I was in the bathroom she had gotten up and donned a Japanese sleeping robe. Handing me a glass of water, she said, “You talk in your sleep.”

“So I’m told,” I said, between deep draughts of water. Looking at her with her raven hair framing the face that I now knew so well, I thought, she looks fabulous. And what a lay! Smacking my lips, I said, “I need more cognac,” knowing I’d be hung over in the morning. 

“Would you like anything else?” she asked. 

“Yes,” I said. “A little more opium and a lot more of you.”

“Oh, good. I was worried that my appetites and tormenting might intimidate you, and you would want to leave,” she said, coming to me and molding her body to me tightly. “But I see that you have great patience…and stamina. You beast.”

We smoked a bit, had a sip of fresh cognac, and I slipped her robe off her. In the subdued red and blue light of her bedroom, Erica looked like a fanciful version of a Hindu goddess, lithe and serpentine, moving with an exaggerated, sensual slowness that rekindled my fires so brutally banked shortly before. Her mood had changed. She was quiet and compliant, seeming more anxious to do my bidding…to cater to my appetites. 

I was wrong. She was boundlessly treacherous, and very stoned. But not too stoned to fuck. We kissed briefly, and she immediately moved to my groin, where she very slowly sucked me to stiffness. Ah, drugs, I thought, gratefully. Once again taking the lead, she reached into her bedside drawer and pulled out a condom. I asked, jokingly, “Isn’t it a bit late for that?”

“No, Jay,” she said, placing the condom on the tip of her tongue. She then moved back to my cock and expertly rolled the rubber down my shaft with her mouth. “Perfect!” she said, satisfied. Then she coated it with her gel and, passing the jar to me, requested: “Please put this in my rectum, like you did before.”

Anxious to please, I did just that, as well as coating her pussy, all of which produced happy sighs and pleasurable moans from her. That finished, she very matter-of-factly got on hands and spread knees, and – looking over her shoulder – said, “Now, fuck my ass, very hard, please. Just like you did my choot a while ago.”

I was a trifle disarmed, but of course didn’t hesitate. My hands went to her lovely behind and spread her cheeks, just as I noticed her fingers beginning to stroke her clit from underneath. The gel made entry very easy. My large glans popped inside her sphincter and she grunted with pleasure. “Mmm, it’s so good with the gel,” she said. Not yet having had it on my naked prong, I looked forward to the experience as I pushed my condomed dick slowly into her, agitating it back and forth to forge a path. 

Then we began the ancient rhythm, with her thrusting back at me. Her sheath had no trouble accommodating me. It was relaxed and fully open on the inside. So, I was able to withdraw fully and achieve matchless sensations by slipping my cock head fully out and reentering her ass on each in stroke. Holding her lovely hips in my hands, I registered for all time the image of her violet asshole slowly opening and closing around me, with a few black hairs clinging to the shaft as it made its way out of her colon. I twisted from side to side, turned and screwed in a circular motion, anything to touch all of the sensitive lining of her dark depths. Her insides seemed to work with me, squeezing me rhythmically as I repeatedly lost and found myself again in her rear. 

And her hand was busy. Erica was frigging herself into a frenzy, filling the room with moaning and keening sounds, much to the pleasure of us both. After no more than two minutes of self-masturbation, her bowels began smasming and once again she was cumming, loudly, and exhorting me to fuck her harder. Again she began spouting Hindi, words that sounded like “Ree. Aaree. Yayaree,” but of course my untrained ear rendered me powerless to respond except to their intensity. Finally, she froze and shuddered, her muscles knotting around my buried cock, and her butt stood immobile except for its profound trembling, until she was finished. She collapsed on her belly and I went with her, my cock still buried in her ass.

Once again we slept, deeply, for a while. Awaking while it was still dark, I stripped off the condom and tossed it in an ashtray. I nuzzled Erica awake, spending a lot of time kissing and licking her breasts, which roused her and caused her breathing to quicken. Soon we were again groping one another frenetically, moaning, and uttering little cries of joy. I licked her crotch, tasting the tart plastic-ness of my stale cum, and, flicking her clit for several minutes, she gasped for me to fuck her again. “Please, Jay, hand me the gel,” she said. Smearing a gob on my cock head, she admitted: “I have wanted you all the way inside me all day. The gel will help,” she explained.

As I poised myself at her opening, she thrust her hips up violently, enveloping me to the point where I rammed into her cervix. “Ohoww,” she uttered, as I made impact. Gritting her teeth, she begged me to go slowly. “Just apply a little pressure, please Jay,” she requested. I did so, very conscious of hurting her. I felt the opening of her cervix give just a bit against my glans, and took the fraction of space it allowed. “Nnnngggh,” Erica moaned. “Now please move around a little bit, to smear the gel.” I did so, and she clamped her eyes tightly closed, grimacing. “Now a bit more, please,” she said. I felt a slight dilation and again claimed a little depth. “Uunngh. Just rest for a minute, now,” she said, relaxing her muscles. “Now push a…bit…more,” she said, “Ohh,” and coughed slightly. I felt her deep cough with my cock and thought she might be gagging. Lying very still on her, I waited.

“It is good, Jay. You know what to do. Just take what I give you,” she said. I did for perhaps five minutes, waiting, then inching forward, waiting, then inching forward. Her cervical opening was by now stretched over my corona, completely dilating it. “The gel is working,” she gasped. “Now…please…all the way,” she requested -- turning her head to the side with eyes tightly closed and jaw clenched -- fully admitting me. 

“Ohhh, I feel so full of you,” she beamed with misty eyes. “Mmmmnnn.” Then she said, “Please hold still. I will milk you with my muscles.” With that she began to flex her mons up and down to massage her clit against my pubic bone. I was in her to my balls, scrotum pressed firmly against her upturned perineum. She looked me deeply in the eyes and said, lasciviously: “I am fucking you, my big lover. I want your seed deep inside. I want to feel its heat splashing into me. Give it to me, Jay!” she ordered. So much for sexually conservative Indians, I quickly thought, gleefully. 

Then Erica kissed me, thrusting her long tongue as deeply as it would go into my mouth and slithering it in and out like a wanton serpent. Moaning, she threw her head back and revealed her graceful neck and clavicle to me. Had I been a vampire this would have been the moment that I’d dispatch this sultry beauty with a deeply penetrating bite, draining her of all bodily fluids. Instead I waited, immobile, while she reached a pleasure plateau that would allow us both a phenomenal climax. 

She hunched and hunched, wrapping her legs tightly around my ass like a vise, while two inches of my cock were planted in her uterus, waiting…waiting to spill my sperm into her fecund womb. Her plaintive cries changed from gasps to yelps, then to deep, throaty grunts accompanied by rapid exhalations. I grasped her breasts firmly and twisted the nipples to arouse her further as her first spasm washed over her, then began my plunder. For thirty seconds I plowed her with short strokes, leaving my cock intact in her uterus. 

Then I began longer plunges, until I was pulling completely out and ramming my cock in beyond her dilated cervix to its former resting place. She placed her feet flat on the futon and threw her hips at me stroke for stroke. Our thighs slapped wetly against those of the other, filling the room with the staccato percussion of our fleshy coupling. Sweat poured from me to land on her beautiful face, coursing down her long, straight nose, droplets she licked and swallowed noisily, only to open her gaping mouth to receive more. Her nails raked my back and dug into my shoulders and biceps as she approached her joyful pinnacle. 

Erica’s orgasm was volcanic: shrieks, screams, and slutty grunts emanated from her berserk mouth as wave after wave turned her into a primitive, rutting animal. She flopped about the bed like a beached fish, clawing at my face and hair and mewling mysterious incantations. Saliva sprayed from her mouth as she yelled wetly into mine. And, suddenly, I was there. Planting my toes deeply into the futon and thrusting my body into hers, I spewed forth a huge, white-hot load, seeing in my mind’s eye millions of little sperm jetting from my cock into the dark, fertile recesses of her womb. 



This time we slept until daybreak. The shouting of chirping birds outside the window mocked me as I held my aching head in my hands. Erica was in the bathroom and emerged – robed, with hair in a ponytail -- with a bowl of warm water and a washcloth, which she used to bathe my crotch, paying special attention to the creases and folds of my scrotum and limp cock. She was astoundingly cheerful and asked, sweetly: “Hungry? I will fix you a latte and croissant!”

“Mmm, yeah. Please! That would be wonderful,” I groaned.

Rising, she went to the kitchen and made morning noises, humming an arcane melody that I’d never heard. Getting up, I retrieved my boxers from the living room and joined her, at which point she handed me two aspirin and some water. 

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

“You are welcome, Jay,” she whispered. “Sit at the counter. I will serve you there,” she said, pointing to the day’s newspaper.

The croissant and sips of coffee tasted good, and as she came closer I detected her fresh smell. “Did you shower?” I asked.

“No, I took a douche, and washed myself a bit,” she responded. “I will say this, Jay, I am very taken by your pheromones,” she grinned approvingly. “And, for a man of your age, there is a lot to be said for your stamina. Of course, your control and imagination are beyond reproach. I noticed that you appreciate my peculiarities.” 

I exaggeratedly smelled one armpit and drew away with a sour look on my face. She laughed and said: “Oh, you will clean up nicely.” She then walked around the counter and approached me, standing between my spread legs, and – putting her arms around my neck – gave me a long, soulful kiss. Pulling back, she said, “Use my toothbrush now. I have a surprise for you.”

Emerging from the bathroom I felt better and re-seated myself at the high counter. Erica returned and kissed me as she had before. “Mmmm,” she moaned pleasurably, and – watching me as she did so – fished my still-limp prick through the slit in my underwear and sank to her knees to start a most pleasant blow job. Slipping my boxers down, she coaxed me very slowly, stretching her lips far out and humming as her tongue worked wonders on the head. Both hands were busy as well, one manipulating my balls and the other massaging the artery and veins in my lengthening member. Not fully erect, I was nevertheless feeling much better. Slowly, I opened the front of her robe, revealing the breathtaking sight of her brown body, perched on lovely knees and heels below. She looked up at me – through me – and the sight of her made me fully ready.

Not knowing whether she would suck me to climax, which might have taken many minutes, I opted instead for a fuck. Raising her to her feet, her robe sank to the floor and I turned her body-first to the counter, where she rested her elbows. Spreading her legs slightly, I licked the crack of her ass languorously, which stimulated a soft moan as I tongued her anus. Her tangy rectum indicated a recent bowel movement, and she clenched her buns together to discourage me from such further exploration. Undaunted, I spread her legs further and spent several minutes tonguing her cunt, while reaching around and finding her clit – already erect – pushing out of its hood.

Erica was now moaning continuously and, oh, so ready and compliant. I thought, sacrilegiously, what better way to celebrate the Sabbath than worship at the pussy of one’s choice? Placing one of her feet on a nearby low footstool, I brought her other leg up to hold it at the height of my waist, which once again revealed that lovely, purple pussy to me, winking its pink interior through the morning dew. Slowly placing my pulsing penis head at her entrance, I teased it in and out to gather her moist lubricant, and slowly pushed in to bottom out at her cervix. She gasped “Ahoww,” and I realized the probable pain I was causing after the previous night. Guardedly, I began using shorter strokes, which were met with immediate squeals of approval.

In this position, her vagina was tighter than usual, and my cock was able to feel the continually grasping muscles and pronounced internal ridges that I’d witnessed the afternoon before with aid of her speculum. Otherwise, she was relaxed with our familiarity and we rocked gently with and against one another for many minutes. 

Since it was morning, I was insensitively hard and not sure I could cum. Nor was I truly sure that she wanted to, since she was relatively quiet. It seemed as if she was doing this for me. No matter, I thought crudely, I’ll take my piece and go. At that I increased my pace and once again began trip-hammer thrusts into her yielding softness. Finally, she began that keening crescendo that signifies an oncoming orgasm and, surprised, I felt I might cum prematurely. She looked around quickly at my slack-jawed face and pulled off of me quickly, dropped to her knees with mouth open, and begged: “Please cum all over me, Jay. I want your cum everywhere…on my face…in my mouth…on my…on my breasts…my tits!” 

I grabbed my member and jacked it quickly as Erica’s gleaming eyes never left my excited cock. Soon she put her hands on the back of my thighs to brace herself and her touch caused me to erupt. The first rope spooged on her head, from hairline down her nose, to her mouth and chin. The second shot I played into her open mouth. The third streaked from one shoulder across both breasts, lingering for a second on one nipple, then dropped to a brown thigh. The fourth eased out onto her hand, which now grasped and milked my rod just below the ridge, bringing our symbiotic assignation to an exhausting close.

Erica jumped to her feet, grabbed my hand, and pulled me into the bedroom to stand in front of a full-length mirror. Behind her, looking over her at our reflection, I witnessed her scoop all traces of my cum from herself and lick her fingers clean of it. I wrapped my arms around her and she leaned her head back against my shoulder and said: “Yes, I will definitely want to see you again.”

In a few minutes Erica had washed us again with warm water. We dressed, she in her robe, and I prepared to leave. “I want to thank you for a lovely time, Doctor,” I said, lightly. “By the way, can you prescribe a bit of that gel for me?”




Flash Mob Orgy Ch. 02



“Not for your little floozy girlfriend,” she admonished. “Perhaps at a later time. I do want to see you again, but I do not know when, since my hours are so long and irregular. I will leave a message at your office,” she concluded. 

We kissed long and hard at the door before I slipped out. In the car I mused, “Floozy?” I didn’t know that was a Hindi word.

Driving home, I tried to get my head straight, and pondered my marital indiscretions of the past two weeks as my wife Lee was returning home today from her reunion. I had been confronted by wanton feminine evils – Ginny and Erica, even the Peruvian -- and had succumbed to only two of them. As I thought of the sweet, young Ginny, whom I’d foolishly told I’d see tomorrow, I was on familiar though still dangerous ground. In the case of the East Indian Erica, I wanted to see her as much or more than she wished to see me…for more fantastic sex. I was glad that this weekend, when forced to choose between these evils, I’d picked the one that I’d never tried before. 

Thanks for your votes and feedback. For those interested, Ginny will return soon as she enlists Daddy-in-Law’s support for her work, her wedding, and her libido.