Sisters, Friends, and Lovers Ch. 31

As far as the wedding, I didn't have too much to do. Fran and I chose wedding rings, and I did some further coordination with the resort we'd be going to about security and the nature of the wedding. We did a guest list, and ended up mailing nice invitations to about a hundred-fifty people, expecting at best half that many to travel to St. Maartens for the wedding and the following weeklong party.

* * * * *

The wedding invitations were mailed in early February.

Together their parents

Francis Dobson (Henson)

And

Steven Grover Wallace

Invite you to their wedding vows

on the beach at the

Club Orient Beach Resort

St. Maartens

April 23rd - four o'clock

Clothing optional service. No minors.

We included all sorts of information about the resort and other nearby accommodations, plus a separate card about the reception and party afterwards.

Please join us for a weeklong reception and party

following the wedding at the resort.

Clothing optional.

Explicit activities certain.

April 23 to noon April 29th

Uncertain? Call Fran at 500-500-7711

It had taken everyone in the apartment a week to come up with the wording that would warn some of our friends who are less involved in sexual activities than we are, that the party would be a continuous orgy. We finally decided that the term 'explicit' alerted most people to sexual goings-on, and the suggestion to call Fran would give her a chance to explain just how rowdy we planned on being without putting it in print.

* * * * *

After a month we had forty-eight RSVPs to the destination wedding and weeklong party, and a lot of 'wish we could be there but can't be away that long' statements. Fran fielded about thirty calls too. She estimated that half opted not to come based on the sex that would take place. The other half got even more enthusiastic about the week and wanted to know about bachelor and bachelorette parties ahead of time. Fran and I delegated the conduct of those parties to Sheila and Aidan.

After we had a certain guest list, Fran contacted each person or couple and asked that they get tested before coming so that we could ensure a happy result for everyone, especially after the event had passed. Not one person complained.

On April first, Loren was selected by her female companions to play the traditional April Fool's Day trick on me. I'm not sure how they did it, but when I got home from work that day (I'd been in the TCI Boston office) and had settled into the living room with most of the others with a glass of wine, she came up to me looking very sheepish.

Loren stammered, "I ... errr ... Can. We. Talk?"

Now, every male over the age of sixteen knows that those words portend some kind of 'bad' situation that they are about to become embroiled in. All my antennae as well as the hair on the back of my neck rose in curiosity and warning.

I slowly nodded, and she stood in front of me and showed me a little plastic stick. I could see instantly the large letter EPT engraved on the plastic part of the device - and I instinctively knew those letters stood for 'Early Pregnancy Test.' As I looked at the test end of the stick, I could see that the "+" sign was illuminated and had been triggered.

Based on Loren's demeanor, her longing look at me, and the positive baby test, I jumped to the conclusion that I was about to become a father. I guess I did the right thing. I jumped out of my chair and hugged Loren, kissed her, and told her how glad I was to be a parent with her. Around the two of us applause broke out from everyone else in the condo. Then the laughter broke out, and I knew I'd been had in the joke of the day.

Loren later apologized, but said everyone picked her because she still had the reputation among us as being the most naïve and therefore probably the most likely to get into trouble. In the same breath, she pledged her undying love for me for all time, and got me so cranked up with her kisses that we went into the bedroom for a quickie. She also expressed her ardent desire to carry my child anytime I wanted her to.

Nonetheless, the feelings provoked by the April Fool's Day gag proved to me that I really did want to start a family. When we were alone, I talked to Fran and Sheila about family building. Except for Jane and Marge, the three of us were the oldest in the circle. Marge didn't want any more kids if she could even produce an egg. I hadn't talked to Jane but knew she was career bound. Fran and Sheila and I decided that right after the wedding they'd go off of birth control and have everyone but me start to use condoms. We decided we didn't want to create a potluck baby with whomever the girls happened to be with the way Gale had, as loving a move as that had been.

Speaking of potluck babies, we continued to get together with the Fabulous Five over the winter about every other weekend. Surprise of surprises, Nancy Reddick also admitted that she was pregnant. I could see the landscape of our swinging friends dramatically changing in the very near future. Nancy and I had bareback sex, so again I felt the possibility that I might have sired yet another child.

Gale Dunn had popped out until she obviously was hiding a beach ball under her clothing. When nude, her breasts were swollen, nipples darkened, and belly distended in a way I personally found rather sexy. I liked making love to the pregnant mom-to-be, and she became a favorite as we approached her mid-May delivery date. I felt very paternal to her 'baby bump,' but there was no reason for me versus about six other men to feel uniquely that way. Fortunately, they'd be coming to St. Maartens with us and staying for the week so I'd have other opportunities to couple with her before I'd have to wait for Nancy and some others to show their baby bumps.

Ivy had an idea about flying down to the island for the wedding. She contacted several charter flying services, got our nuclear group and some of our swing friends going to the wedding to commit, and then arranged a private jet to fly us down to St. Maartens. The plane was a modified 737, and we could see on the outside where it had once belonged to Southwest Air before they'd retired it because of age - a point I worried about on the trips down and back home. The inside of the airliner was now posh, with a bedroom at the rear of the plane, and even a regular size bathroom with a shower. Supposedly Justin Bieber had used the plane a few times.

Two days before the wedding, 36 of us converged on the Bedford, Massachusetts, general aviation terminal for the flight. Our group consisted of Fran, Sheila, Ally, René, Ivy, Loren, Jane, Marge, Zoey, Kristen, Aidan, Matt, Ned, Sean, Rita, Jean, Dave, Chip, Gale, Lyle, Nancy, Val, Jerry, and me. From the wider Henson swing group we also had on the flight Mark, Marie, Cal, Pat, Mandy, Frank, Helen, Randy, Sally, Walt, Benson, and Sandy. We could have fit about ten more on the flight, but even as it was the round-trip flights for all of us were significantly cheaper than commercial airfares, plus we could fly first class non-stop straight from home to St. Maartens without airport hassles, delayed flights, missed connections, airline food, and so on.

After we were well on our way, Fran came and sat in my lap. She whispered in my ear, "I know just what you need right now." She pulled me up, and with a little nudge from Loren, who followed us, pushed me into the stateroom at the rear of the aircraft. The others snickered as we walked past them, obviously headed back for some serious loving. Loren shut and locked the door behind her.

As Fran unbuttoned my shirt she said, "Loren and I want to join the Mile High Club, which will be even better because we are about seven miles high right now, or rather we will be when we're fucking." She started to undo my shirt, as Loren worked on my pants. Fran added, "You'd better keep it 'up' too, because some of the other women would like to have the same exclusive membership in this club that we're about to have and you have been chosen as the 'designated fucker.'"

I wondered how many other corporate executives who flew in this plane had gotten a fabulous piece of ass or two in the cushy bed. I bet the number was a lot higher than people would even speculate. I noticed the box of tissues and some hand towels strategically placed by the headboard, as well as a couple of terrycloth towels and wash cloths within easy reach. Whoever outfitted this plane knew what they were doing.

"Oh, shit." Loren inhaled my cock all the way down her throat in one sudden move I didn't anticipate. She looked up at me with her big eyes that were crinkled at the corner, betraying a smile if she didn't have me suction-locked inside her mouth. She started to do some of the same amazing gymnastics with her mouth and throat that Ivy had used on me when she fellated me - twisting, grinding, humming, vocalizing, sucking, and mouthing, in very nonstandard ways.

Fran knelt beside her, and as Loren pulled off, the two women started to share my rod between them. At one point, the two of them mouthed on either side of my cock, adding copious amounts of saliva and simultaneously moved up and down together; the sensation was like getting blowjobs from both women simultaneously.

At a pause, we repositioned ourselves on the bed. I had Loren sixty-nine with me just so I could closely examine the nicest ass in the world - so tight, so well shaped, so kissable, so fuckable. I dove my tongue into Loren's pussy with great gusto. I got a little moan of pleasure as my reward from her.

Loren and Fran were doing wonderful things to my dick at my middle with hands and mouths. Before I'd learned some of the techniques of Tantric sex and sexual control, I would have cum after only a minute or two of their ministrations. Now, I usually could savor the pleasure as long as I wanted before allowing my release.

The girls changed places. I marveled at the fabulous medley of pussy tastes I'd experienced in the past weeks: at least ten women. Each woman was unique and delicious, a five-star meal of sexual juices and tastes served up in the most beautiful pussies a man could imagine. Just the thought made me harden further as Fran deep throated me. I drove my fingers into her cunt to remind her I had her best interests at heart.

Fran rose up more vertically so she and Loren could kiss. Fran guided my cockhead to Loren's dripping pussy. I felt the small, shy girl shimmy down my shaft very slowly, millimeter by millimeter, using small vaginal contractions and microscopic up and down motions all the way along the journey onto my shaft. She took over two minutes before she ground her pubic bone against mine, her clitoris between us sending high voltage electric signals throughout her body. When I blindly reached my hand to strum Loren's clit, I found Fran's hand already there and doing a far better job than I could because of the angle and Fran's enthusiasm.

Loren had an inexhaustible supply of female ejaculate. When conditions were right and the stimulus hit all the right spots around her nether region, she would uncontrollably emit a stream of girl juice with varying pressures and distances achieved. Fran slid from my mouth to the space beside me so she could focus on Loren. Fran's hand became a blur, and she started to implore Loren to cum - to squirt wildly over us. Loren let go, as though she controlled herself. A wild stream of clear juice sprayed from her body all over Fran, me, and the bed. Loren emitted a loud joyous moan, her sounds lost in the hum of the jet's engines and the bedding. Fran and I both lapped wildly at the effluent, a testament to how good Loren tasted.

"Oh, please fuck me more ... hard. I need some cock - hard cock pumping away." Loren pleaded. I'd never heard such great dirty talk from her.

I flipped Loren around onto her stomach, yanked her midsection into the air, and drove my titanium cock into her cunt. After a minute of pounding, she yelled, "THAT'S IT. JUST WHAT I WANT." I wondered if the pilots had heard her over the din of the aircraft noise. Heck, I bet people on the ground seven miles below could hear her. Fran slithered under Loren so she could first suck on her breasts, but then so she could strum her clit some more. From the angle, Loren could bend down and perform cunnilingus on Fran. I heard Fran's plaintive cry as Loren's tongue hit pay dirt. Next came the fingers of Loren's right hand.

A few mind bending orgasms later, and the girls changed places, with me plowing into Fran's cunt from behind her as Loren did sexually exciting things from underneath us.

We hit a little clear air turbulence, just enough to create some steady bumps in the cabin. The occasion seemed to tilt me over the edge; I blasted my cum into Fran's pussy just as she came in a big way. As I did, a lightning bolt of pleasure ripped through my body from toes to head. I could tell Fran shared a similar rip-roaring experience.

We lay in a pile for quite a few minutes, panting and smiling with sexual satisfaction at each other. I wondered how we'd clean up until Fran reminded me there was a tiny shower just off the bedroom, the kind of thing I'd seen in luxury motorhomes. Fran had me lie there with Loren while she showered; after, she dressed and made a quick exit. I let Loren go next.

The next I knew Jane, Marge, and Ally came into the bedroom. They were already removing their clothes. As they got undressed I commented on how smelly and messy I was from Round One. I got congratulated for not showering, and for allowing the trio to lick up the remaining portions of Loren and my ejaculate.

After the accompanying foreplay, I proceeded to annex three more members into the Mile High Club. When we were through, they changed places with Sheila, Ivy, and René, and then Aidan and Ned came in with Zoey and Kristen wanting to use the bed.

I took a breather and played spectator, but then Jean Henson came in and insisted I do her next to the others. As we were fucking, she and Zoey decided to change places, so soon I had the younger woman as Aidan fucked Jean. After Jean got satisfied, Helen and Sally joined in. I'd now lost count of my initiation duties. I also was bone dry. Jerry and Val came in, and he asked if there was room on the bed for another initiation of two passengers to the Mile High Club.

Eventually, I used the shower and dried off in the bedroom so one of the other girls could go next. I'd felt the plane start its slow descent towards the Island, so I dressed and exited the bedroom, leaving the tight space to the other men and women.

It took a long time for the plane to drop down from 37,000 feet to 2,000 feet, and the start of vectors for the St. Maarten's airport. Only then did the last of the women return to the cabin from the bedroom. I did a brief reconnaissance of the cabin and determined that every man and woman had joined the Club during the six-hour flight. Here was another reason why chartered flights were so nice.

To be continued

Thanks to Germandragon for his editing.