Suburban Style

Scott placed a hand on each of Nora's hips and went to work. Nora watched intent and motionless as Scott's head, from our rear-view anyway, barely bobbled. It wasn't long before Nora's arms started bracing themselves against the cushions, and her hips started undulating ever so slightly. It wasn't more than another minute before the rising and falling went higher and faster. Nora leaned up, moving her head closer to Scott's face, and placed a hand on each side of Scott's head. Her breathing speeded, and she started letting out little high-pitched yips.

Scott reached under Nora's legs, grabbed her butt cheeks, and locked his lips more firmly onto her pussy. His head moved just barely up and down, back and forth, his mouth and tongue apparently doing the work. Nora leaned halfway back, propped up by the cushions and her arms, staring intently at Scott's head, her mouth closed, eyes widening, and breathing getting deeper and faster. The flush started reappearing from her face down to her breasts, and she began making small humming sounds, like she was asking a question. "Hmm? Hmm? Hmm?"

Her mouth opened a bit and the hums changed to soft huhs. "Huh? Huh? Huh?" Her hips started a rolling motion and Scott's head stayed latched to its target, swelling up and down like a bobber in the ocean waves. Nora breathed faster and my dick started getting harder, thinking about watching this pretty bank vice president in front of me, stripped and losing control to sexual ecstasy. Finally Nora's head rose up and her mouth opened wide to let out long, loud Aahhs, not questions this time, but exclamations. Almost yelling, "Aahh! Aahh! Aahh!"

Nora let out a final, "Oooh," sat up and again grabbed Scott's head in both hands. This time she raised it to her mouth and gave him a long, aggressive, open-mouthed kiss. Finally coming up for air, Nora whispered, "Thank you," and released her servant.

Scott spun around, his dick straight out, and scooted along the carpet to sit next to Sally, who reached down and gave his pecker a couple playful pats. Nora slid from the couch, crawled to Jason and leaned against his shoulder. He put an arm around her, smiled and said, "That looked like fun." Nora just burrowed deeper into his side.

The room turned otherwise still, stunned by the incredible show, and it took Cheryl to wake people back up.

She pulled a name out of the guy's basket and said, "Greg, you're the next performer."

My mouth went dry and my dick turned limp, as I tried to fathom moving from the world of stunned spectator to performer. I stood and took my place by the couch. I quickly shed my shoes and socks but then had to work extra hard to move my arms that had turned sluggish from stage fright. Nora was right, this was a lot more nerve wracking than having someone else do the work for you. I was about to undress for two lines of friends looking up from the floor. To the right Terrence and Pam sat, legs extended, leaning back on their hands, smiling at the upcoming show. Then Cheryl and Ted, cross-legged and holding hands. Next, naked Nora curled under Jason's arm watching me from almost sideways. To my left, Scott's hard-on aimed at me while his head used Sally's mountainous breasts as a pillow. Finally, my wife sat with her arms around her legs bare all the way to the bottom of her hip where the hem of her skirt had settled. She watched intently, grinning at my plight.

It seemed like it took forever before I raised my shirt and flung it toward the corner, displaying my hairless chest and body with just a little bit of flab. I reached for my pants in front of this group of men, women, and my wife, feeling a little like a cheater, and a pervert, which, to my surprise, started hardening my dick. I undid my belt, unclipped my khakis, and slid down the zipper. I watched the sets of eyes follow my pants slide down my legs as I stepped out of them, then paused for a second in just my dark blue jockey briefs with a bulge slowly swelling at the prospect of being let out in front of a co-ed audience.

I pushed the underwear to expose my crotch and tossed the last stitch into the corner. My shower and locker-room wear felt strange at a party. My uncircumcised prick continued expanding, so it wasn't quite at a normal limp dangle.

Over the silence in the room, Nora, squirming her nude body against her husband on the floor in front of me said dreamily, "Oh, look, he's kind of glad to see us."

Everyone cracked up. I remember something similar happening the last time my clothes came off in this house, but I decided not to take it to heart. Nora's distracted observation was pretty funny.

But the show needed to go on.

"You have something for me, Cheryl," I said. "And while you're at it you might as well save some time and stand up here. I choose you."

I grabbed her hand and helped her up. She didn't wait to step out of her shoes and untie her blouse. As her arms spread to pull the shirt from her shoulders, her small breasts mounded like proud monuments on her small body. Her areolas were deep pink large, almost half the size of her breasts themselves. She smiled and swayed as she playfully wriggled out of her Capri's, unsnapping, unzipping, then stepping daintily out of each leg. Giving us a fleeting gander of her lime green panties, she similarly raised her legs to finish uncovering. She straightened, put her hand on her right hip and cocked her pelvis, in a pose resembling a sassy, R-rated version of "I'm a little teapot." She looked the vision of mischievous and sexy, and it made me envious of what bedroom romps must be like with Ted. Her eyebrows rose in a whimsical arch, her lips angled upward, her thick hair brushed her bare shoulders, drawing admiring eyes along her arms, to her waist, then the small spot of fur marking the entrance to the treats between her legs.

My prick had expanded near its full six inches (yes, really) and risen to where it seemed to be consciously pointing at the slit just below Cheryl's light brown pubic hair. She looked down at my member straining toward her pussy, also drawing the attention of the audience on the floor.

"So a girl just has to take off her clothes to wake him up?" Cheryl teased. "What do suppose he wants to do?"

Plunging my pointer into Cheryl's pussy seemed painfully appealing, but any doubts about my planned fantasy went away as I glanced up at her beaming face and expressive mouth. I read from the slip of paper I'd prepared earlier.

"I want to cum in your mouth."

The room went silent and Cheryl's nude figure froze for a second, then recovering quickly, she said, "Well it doesn't look like that will take very long. Might I suggest you lay down?"

My head was spinning in disbelief. I lay down parallel to the couch, and Cheryl crouched between my legs. I propped myself on my elbows so I could watch Cheryl's approach. She ran her hands up to the inside of my thighs, then lightly took my cock in her fingertips. I tingled and hardened further at Cheryl's touching.

"Let's pull this collar down," she said, moving my foreskin to expose a slick, light purple head. By now, it pointed to the ceiling on it's own, deserving the term "woody."

Cheryl brushed her thick hair behind her ears and slowly lowered her slightly parted lips toward my cock.

Her elegant face lowered into my groin, closing around the top inch of my engorged piece of meat. I let out a low moan as she sucked lightly and circled the head with her tongue. Her mouth slid down about halfway, tightening around my cock as saliva mixed with precum to smooth the slow, rhythmic bobbing of her head. Her tangle of hair fluttered around my balls, obscuring some of the view of the audience to my side. But I was seeing it all as her light-brown strands tickled my hips and belly. My legs had tightened as I felt like I must be harder than I've ever been. I shot a sideways glance at my wife, whose intent stare and half smile sent new waves of electricity through my thighs and up my oozing rod. Cheryl's up and down, up and down, started going a little faster, then faster as she must have sensed the impending eruption. Then she stopped near the top of a stroke, leaving just the head inside her, and flicked my sensitive tip a couple times with her tongue—another show known only to the two of us. But the others in the room surely guessed something was going on inside as I couldn't help but let loose with a couple of quiet grunts. Cheryl looked through her eyelids at me, smiled as well as she could with her otherwise occupied lips, and gave a couple more quick tongue flips across my slit and it was all over. I lurched forward a few inches as my cock spasmed, four or five times as Cheryl moved my piece in deeper, her cheeks indenting, throwing my member into even more intense pangs as she suck and sucked. Her head had stopped moving as I felt burst after burst unload, and she concentrated on swallowing. When my surges started to subside, I felt even more pressure as Cheryl vacuumed every last drop from me. At last she straightened up and let my shriveling member flop against my stomach. She sat up on her knees, pussy disappearing into the folds of her thighs, nipples pinker and pointier than ever, her face gleaming in self-satisfaction. Two or three drops worth of my sperm shone white at the left corner of her mouth.

"So," giggled Cheryl. "did that match the fantasy you had in mind?" She wiped the bit of cum from her face with her index finger, and popped it into her mouth to lick it clean.

Cheryl scooted her cute butt back to where she'd been sitting. She'd swallowed so much of my strength and dignity, I had to crawl over to sit cross-legged next to Dina. I worried a little about her reaction to the show. Of course we'd promised each other there'd be no jealousy. But I don't think either of us was prepared for this kind of reality.

"Looks like you guys had fun," said Dina, smiling and squeezing my shriveled, unresponsive member, adding, "I hope you saved something in there for me."

I muttered a relieved, "No problem" and leaned against her as Cheryl called out, "Pamela, show us what' you're made of."

Pam jumped up and walked to the front of the line, the long dress sheathing her body swaying and bending with her as she moved. She turned and smiled with her little mouth above a delicately pointed chin. A few strands of hair covered her right eye in a way that seemed a little hammy, but still charming. Without a word she started undoing what must have been a dozen buttons all the way down the front of her dress. She slipped buttons from their holes, one by one, exposing the top part of her chest, then the upward slopes of cleavage, continuing until it was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra, adding to the senseless and involuntary craning of my neck, trying to catch a nipple slip, though I knew in seconds I'd be getting all the scenery I could want. The gap in the front of her dress widened and deepened, diving below her stomach. As her hands worked toward her thighs, we started getting glimpses that told us Pam wasn't wearing any underwear at all. The thought that the long, thin dress was all that separated Pam from total nudity gave me naughty, juvenile goose bumps, and sent stirrings along my flaccid pecker. To finish the last of the buttons, Pam pulled the hem of her dress up above her knees, finished unfastening, then threw open the dress like a bold flasher opening a trench coat.

Our imaginations weren't disappointed. As her outstretched arms moved to let the dress slide from her shoulders her dark, shining torso seemed to thrust forward. The dress had disguised her tits incredibly well, because now they seemed to bloom from nowhere, nearly the size of a softball and very nearly as round, dark nipples stationed on the upper half of her firm orbs. For the first time that night we saw her bare legs. They weren't long, but smooth and well shaped, and where they met was marked by a spot of hair just above her labia, offering a splendid view of the small, twin mounds that stood out lighter against the dark skin of her thighs.

Once she'd flung her dress toward the other discarded clothes, Pam's smile faded a little and her hands started fidgeting in front of her pussy, showing an endearing shyness that let everyone know the flamboyant way she got rid of her clothes was planned bravado. In a flash she turned from brazen to vulnerable, trying to cover her most private parts and nervously uncomfortable displaying herself to a group.

Cheryl again came to the rescue, handing up the slip of paper, giving Pam the chance to call out, "Ted, please get up here quickly and help me out."

Ted complied, leaping to her side and saying, "Nice outfit. Mind if I try it on?"

Without waiting for a reply Ted undid the two buttons of his Polo shirt and pulled it off. He quickly unbuckled his belt, unzipped, and got rid of his jeans, leaving him in covered only by something that looked more like a pair of tight black short shorts than underwear. He peeled those off and tossed them toward the pile, giving everyone a chance to check out Ted's package, which I'd remembered from the last party as pretty slight. His pecker poked two or three inches out from his mass of hair, and even at that it was obvious it was already in some state of arousal. Still, that left a provocative-looking couple in front of us for the next performance. Ted, obviously fit, hairy chest and a dark complexion, his sex organ aimed at the darker woman with the large and luscious breasts and a smile that looked even sweeter, her lipstick even a brighter red, with her recent loss of brashness.

"What would you have me do for you and to you?" Ted cracked.

Pam held up the paper and read: "I want you to finger my pussy until I pop," and she immediately put her fingers to her forehead. "I can't believe I said that," she said, paused, and dropping the paper, added, "but there you are."

"I can accommodate that," said Ted, as he stepped behind Pam and circled his arms inside hers and around toward her belly. Pam flinched at what must have been Ted positioning his prick against the crack of her ass.

"Are you OK?" he asked gently.

"Oh, uh, yes," Pam stuttered as she glanced down toward Ted's hands then back over her shoulder to his face. "I guess this kind of a position makes sense. I just got startled by, oh, can we just get started?"

That drew a laugh from everyone, which Pam joined halfheartedly.

Ted's fingertips skimmed Pam's skin, tracing lines from her belly button down to her thighs. Pam shuddered, "That tickles."

"Aww," said Ted. "I thought I was already driving you wild with passion." Another laugh, this time Pam seemed to relax a bit and appreciate the humor.

Ted cupped his right hand over Pam's pussy and slowly massaged, alternating up and down, circling, squeezing. Pam started to lose her self-consciousness. Her eyes closing or looking up, her muscles visibly relaxing, her breasts rhythmically moving up and down as her breathing deepened. After several minutes when Pam's deep breaths made the only sound in the room, Ted switched from the hand kneading, to circling and rubbing with his index finger.

After a couple minutes Pam sighed, rolled her head a quarter turn toward Ted, and said, "Could we find a way to sit? I don't think I'll be able to stand it, so to speak."

"Say no more," said Ted, backing up a couple steps and sitting on the couch. In the same move he put his hands on Pam's hips and guided them into his lap. Ted's stiff little pecker poked out at us, barely noticeable under Pam's private parts, which weren't at all private any more. As she opened her legs to Ted's touch, her layers of bright pink against her dark skin upstaged anything else in the room.

Ted shuttered the image by cupping his hand over Pam's pussy and sinking a finger deep inside her. His arm set a rhythmic motion, moving his finger in and out, to Pam's declaration of, "That's more like it." As her butt rotated slowly, brushing lightly over Ted's cock, I could see precum start to ooze from his tip. Now there were soft moans coming from both of them.

The undulating went on for several minutes, until Pam's exclamations started getting longer and her gyrations picked up speed. Ted took that as a cue to remove the finger and start a massage along Pam's labia and clit. His hand moved slowly at first, then picked up speed until it seemed to be shivering to a rhythm, his fingers nearly a blur. Pam's quick breaths turned into a long, loud wail as the rolling of her loins became a series of thrusts, her back arching, crushing Ted into the sofa. Her pelvis gave one final lunge toward the audience as she grabbed Ted's hand to still the motion. Pam had worked herself into an almost flat horizontal position on top of Ted's legs and torso, her feet flat on the floor, her two hands holding Ted's one tight against her pussy. As her breathing slowed, her spherical breasts rose and fell, machinelike, nipples fully extended, seeming to seek the wall behind her. With her eyes closed, she exhaled, "That's what I'm talking about."

Pam held the position for a few seconds, opened her eyes, popped to her feet and gave a hand to help Ted from the couch. As the pair stood, Ted's complexion looked comparatively white next to Pam's brown body. Sweat shined on both their skins, and both crotches were drippingly moist; Pam's with her orgasm juices, Ted's still-erect rod soaked in precum.

As they walked in a sudden stillness the couple of paces to take their places on the floor, Cheryl cleared her throat as though to shake herself from the daze of watching Pam's mouth-drying convulsions, and said, "Uh, Jason. The next slip of paper is Jason's."

That ended the silence as Pam, Sally, and even Dina right next to me applauded and catcalled at the memory of Jason's enormous cock unveiled at the last party, and the impending prospecting of getting another viewing.

Naked Nora and clothed Jason exchanged half smiles as he stood and stepped to the staging area, pulled off his shoes and grabbed his shirt by the collar to yank it up and over his head. His pale chest was bare except for a few stray hairs, and a bit of flab circling his waist. As he reached for the button at the top of his jeans, the women started a soft rhythmic clapping, that seemed to make Jason slow the process of lowering his zipper to a teasing crawl. Eventually he pushed the pants below his knees, showing a pair of standard Jockey tighty whities. I guess when you've got it, you don't have to dress it in fancy clothes. The underwear did little to hide the enormous snake underneath. After Jason pulled his jeans off each leg, he grabbed the white waistband of his final garment and quickly shoved the briefs down just enough to release what looked like about 11 inches of semi-soft pecker. The women's clapping cadence broke down into applause and whoops at the sight of the dangling creature, long and thin with a slight upward curve, ending in a soft pink circumcised head. Jason lifted each leg to complete his nudity, bowed, and said, "Thank you ladies. Now, the paper, please? Just in case I've forgotten my choices."

That jolted me to the realization that two clothed women remained. Would I soon get another look at that dizzyingly beautiful body of Sally's? Or would I be watching how Jason would use his enormous manhood on my wife? A small tingling started a dance in my testicles, and I couldn't tell whether it was caused by one, or both, of those possibilities.

Jason cleared things up in seconds without even reading the slip of paper Cheryl handed him, saying, "Sally, please come up here and strip for me." His command flushed my face and dried my mouth—Sally was so impossibly perfect looking.

She took her place next to Jason and looked him up and down, obviously paying special attention to his sex organ, which looked like it was slowly rising, and, somehow, growing longer.