“Come in,” she said warmly. “I’m so glad you made it. Let me show you to the pool.”
Tara turned on her sun-browned toes, slightly jingling the silver bracelet on her ankle. She led me down a broad flagstone hallway toward the back of the house, her dark hair bouncing in tight ringlets to the small arch of her back, her round and oiled buttocks softly flexing with each step.
“Oh, wait here,” she directed as she ducked into the kitchen and returned with a large plastic cup filled with some kind of booze on ice. “Something to get ya going,” she purred.
The house was immense and rich, stone and wood, light pouring in at all angles. Photos, sketches and paintings of male and female nudes, some abtract, some graphic, lined many of the walls. As I followed the soft curves of Tara’s body through the house, I could hear the sounds of animated voices looming closer. Laughter, giggles, shouts of encouragement drifted in from the outside. Then, the unmistakable cries of pleasure, muffled moans.
I had heard rumors about Tara’s pool parties, but nothing quite prepared me for what I saw as we stepped out of the glass walls of the house, onto the patio. Tara is a cheerleader and star gymnast at a wealthy suburban high school. Her parents are in business together and are very successful. Fortunately for Tara, they are quite trusting and often leave her alone while they attend business meetings in Europe or Japan. Tara is stunning and, as is usual with beautiful people, her friends are uncommonly striking. Several of those friends had arrived before me and were all very comfortably naked, oiled and uninhibited. One of the male guests was splayed back in a recliner, his eyes closed, sweating. Between his legs rose a shining pole of flesh, the end of which disappeared into the stretched mouth of one of Tara’s friends who was blindfolded and could not see who it was who knelt behind her, sliding a rather large dildo in and out of her thrusting crotch.
Several of the guests gathered around, drinks in hand, cheering their blindfolded friend on. Suddenly, Tara commanded, “Drink,” and everyone took a gulp from their plastic cup, including the cocksucker, the dildo operator and the guy with the twitching dick.
Tara looked at me. “I have one of these parties about once every two months. I’d love to have you back but you have to obey three rules. First, you have to be naked at all of my parties. Second, for the first hour you have to wear one of these.” She reached into a box and pulled out a blindfold and slipped it over my eyes. “Third, whenever I say drink, you have to stop what you’re doing and take a drink.” She started unbuttoning my shirt. “O.K?” she asked.
Eagerly, I shook my head in agreement.
Eagerly, I shook my head in agreement.
“Good,” she said. “Drink.”
And as I raised the drink to my lips my pants were pulled to my ankles and I felt a very delicate pair of lips encircle the head of my very stiff cock. It was all I could do to keep from inhaling a mouthful of alcohol. The lips backed off. “Mmm,” came an approving sound.
“Tastes just like chicken,” yelled a female voice from the far side of the pool. Giggles followed from all sides as someone grabbed my organ and gave it a gentle tug. As I obediently followed the hand, I could hear the muffled cries of what was probably the blindfolded girl as she very obviously had an orgasm, her mouth stuffed with meat. A couple of approving “Yes’s” punctuated the sweet music.
“Stand here,” a very feminine voice directed. I could hear the tinkle of ice cubes and a slurping sound. I raised my own glass to my lips and took a quick gulp. Moments later I was shocked by three ice cold tongues, two circling my nipples and one jabbing into the tip of my dick. My knees went weak and I reached out with my free hand for something to hold onto.
“Put it here,” the voice on my right nipple mumbled, and I felt my hand guided to a very smooth and wet pussy. The clitoris was large and round, and my fingers knew just what to do with it. Within moments, I could hear grunts and moans of encouragement as the sopping crotch pressed into my hand.
All the while, the frigid lips and tongues kept up their onslaught of my errogenous zones. Every once in awhile, a delicate hand would cup my balls and gently pull downward as icy lips slid the full length of my aching member. My hips started a slight rhythm of their own and I could feel the pressure building with each smack of lips.
“Drink” came the command and all action stopped while the cups went up. I expected the cool mouths to resume their torturous activity, but all I could feel after the gulp of alcohol was the thick wet folds of labia in my “free” hand and the hot afternoon sun on my skin.
“Make me cum,” whispered my right-hand companion in a rather urgent tone, and I could feel her pussy open and thrust forward into my twirling fingers. I flicked her clit faster, every once in awhile diving deep into her hole to rub her g-spot and lubricate my fingers. I could hear her kissing someone or some thing and moaning more frantically. Suddenly, I could feel her tense, and her pelvis started shaking uncontrollably. She started to cry out and it was, then, that the sadistic character of Tara,s little game became apparent. “Drink,” came the order from across the pool, and my companion, in the throes of orgasm had to try to take a drink. I could hear her yelling into her glass, then a long high-pitched whine as she took a mouthful of booze, then a quick gulp and a half-gargling gasp. Peals of laughter erupted all around me. It was then that I realized that I had been putting on an exhibition for quite a number of people. My cock, still stiff as a light pole, seemed to swell even more at the thought.
A pair of hands grasped my shoulders from behind and turned me to the right, while another hand gripped my penis. The hand very gently place the tip of my organ into a very wet and warm place and I involuntarily drove deep into it. Immediately, there was a gasp, and then a lusty voice urged me on.
“Pump it, baby. . . . Pump it in my hole . . . . Oh . . . yeah . . . yeah . . . yeah. Oh . . . god . . . fuck . . . yeah . . . Fuck! Me!
The voice drove me crazy. I felt like a machine. The pressure was building deep inside my groin and my ass drove my cock as far and as fast as it could toward the big release. Just before I spilled my guts, the hot muscles surrounding my dick tightened, and as my balls slapped happily, my fuck-mate cried out in orgasm. As her last wave was subsiding and mine was just about to break, I heard, “Drink,” from the far side of the pool. I stood there trying to drink and cum at the same time, but the distraction was enough to put the brakes on, and I stood there trembling and sweating, my balls drawn tight.
My frustration must have been apparent. A tongue started brushing the small hairs on my ass while small fingers circled my pole at the base and started a slow pumping rhythm. From time to time a tongue circled the head of my cock, gently flicking the sensitive underside. This sweet torture did not last long. I could actually hear my white cream splash against the lips and tongue of whoever it was that knelt before me. It felt as if my insides were pouring out all at once through the little tube in my penis. It was exquisite pleasure and excruciating pain all at once. I bellowed like a bull. A cheering section stood around me and whooped and applauded until the last thick drop of jism had been licked from the end of my dick.
Someone kissed me, then pulled the mask from my face. “Thought you might like to see what a mess you made,” purred Tara with a devilish grin on her face. She moved away and I looked down on one of the most beautiful faces I’d ever seen. Her name, I later found out, was Andrea and she kneeled in front of me, her nose, cheeks, lips, chin and breasts shining with my cum.
“Yummm,” she growled. “Will you please finish me off? she pleaded. She lay back and spread her legs wide, raising her hips and her glistening, shaved pussy to my lips.
“Drink,” came the command. And I did.