The Devil Comes Out at Night Pt. 05

"A hundred dollars? Our bet was for twenty."

"Cynthia Marley? Wearing nothing but a thong bikini bottom? Good Lord, Margaret, I should give you a thousand."

—

Cynthia sat with us again for the Sunday service at church. She didn't say a word about our day on the boat until we were in the Fellowship Hall for coffee and donuts. She was careful and quiet about it, telling us it was the most fun she's had in fifteen years. She said it was so nice to play like a kid, without inhibition, and she said she was starting to understand what I'd said about needing a jump start to feel sexy again. She said she never would have believed anything about what happened out there on the boat if she hadn't experienced it, and she said she was glad she took the chances she did.

We told her we were glad too. There was sparkling life in her eyes that I hadn't seen before. Her hair looked cleaner and shinier than usual and she had another one of her mother's nice old dresses on, one that fit her shape perfectly. It was royal blue, with some nice white trim, and I found myself wondering what she had on underneath it. I could picture her under there, because I'd seen her. Her smooth, round ass, and those soft, extra-cleavagey breasts. I wondered if her bra was lacy, and I wondered what that amazing big ass of hers looked like in normal panties. And of course we asked her to spend next Saturday on the boat with us. She was thrilled.

The next few were weeks were fascinating. One night each week of fourway debauchery, either at the Smythe's house or at ours, and a playful, sexy Saturday on the boat with Cynthia. It all seemed almost too good to be true; just too much fun, as the saying goes, but none of us were complaining. Donald and I had lucked into something special — all of us had — and the blissful, way-too-hot summer rolled on.

The second Saturday with Cynthia was a lot like the first. A nice rum buzz, even more glutinous food and deserts. We graduated to nudity onboard as well as in the water, but Cynthia kept her bikini bottom on. It mattered not; she'd gone to the mall and bought some new ones, and the second one she wore was just as sexy as the first. It was the most amazing apricot color. Low rise and extra cheeky. I hardly even need to mention the top of it, because she was out of it so quickly. Donald told me seeing her tits the second time was almost better than the first. I think maybe we were all too stunned the first day to fully appreciate what was happening.

The other fun thing that happened that day was Jeana's makeup. She brought along a bagful and she spent some time fixing up Cynthia's eyes. It was an amazing transformation. You wouldn't think the difference between a topless woman and a topless woman with made-up eyes would give a guy a boner, but I saw it for myself. Bob had to jump in the lake when she showed off her new look. It was too funny. It was also the equivalent of gold when it came to Cynthia's self-confidence.

Jeana sent her home with most of the makeup. The next day at church she had some mascara on, and a little eye liner. It wasn't the all out sexy look Jeana had given her, but it looked wonderful on her; she was as radiant as I've ever seen her in public. Another of her mother's dresses even started some of the nosy nellie's tongues wagging. A little too short, and a little too low cut in the front. That was the buzz that I heard. We were proud of her, and we let her know it.

Cynthia's third time on the boat was special, but I don't want to neglect telling you about the weeknights that Donald and I were spending with Bob and Jeana. It felt like the height of luxury to get together with them. We'd have a nice dinner and some wine and then it all just seemed to flow, like it was meant to be. We sort of thought it might be fun to start out separate, real couple swapping, so that's how it went. Either Bob would take my hand or Donald would take Jeana's, and we'd split off — one couple on the couch and one couple upstairs in the bedroom. It was ridiculously hot and sexy; mindbogglingly so. I felt like I'd died and gone to heaven each time. Bob's cock just does things to me, you know? And then we'd all converge on the bed for a blissful finale. The Smythe's is a big king-size, but ours has a bit more togetherness. I thanked God every day for my new life.

So, Saturday number three with Cynthia. She showed up with dark smokey eye makeup that she did herself, and lipstick on her lips! It was a nice shade of pale red, and looked wonderful. Her bikini knocked us out. Strapless, but somehow supporting her and looking perfect on her big breasts, it was a jungle print called Smitten Kitten. She'd gotten quite a nice suntan over the last few weeks and the spotted print really popped on her, even in the filtered light of the cabin where we all were. It looked ridiculous, and yes, I mean the good kind. And then she took it off. All of it. The top and the bottom.

Our poor boys almost needed CPR. It wasn't just them; I felt all the air go out of me, and it didn't come back for the longest time. I've wondered why, as I was writing this. I like women, sexually. I learned about that side of me with Jeana, and she likes women now, too. But there was something else going on with Cynthia. I've wondered if it was the conquest thing that men feel when they chase a woman. I shouldn't be so sexist, I'm sure women feel it when they chase a man. I guess I did, with Bob, although that was a drawn out, convoluted chase. But back to Cynthia...

Labia Majora. I just looked it up, because I've never paid much attention to the scientific names for the parts of a pussy. Labia Majora is the puffy prominence all around the perimeter. It's what makes a camel toe a CAMEL TOE!, if you know what I mean. Some girls have it, and some don't. Jeana doesn't have it. I have a little of it, and I've got a lot of Labia Minora. That's the flower petal-like parts that stick out. Cynthia has a little bit of that, too, but it's the Labia Majora that makes her special. Majora means big, and yes indeed, she's got a big pussy.

We'd had plenty of hints at it. The big camel toe at the church work day that I told you about, and two different bikini bottoms that were saturated with lake water. But oh my gosh, seeing her standing there naked was so much more.

Part of it was the naturalness. Not of her pussy, it wasn't hairy, it was shaved bare and looked baby-soft smooth. No, I mean the naturalness of our comfort together. Seeing her strip so casually, when the rest of us were still in our swimsuits and Donald was fully clothed; that's the kind of naturalness I mean. It was nice to see. It was like a gift, telling us she trusted us, that she was comfortable with us. It made me smile.

"That's how you do it, girl!" I said, taking off my bikini to join her in nakedness. I looked at Bob while I was stripping. "You boys better keep yours on until you get used to seeing her like this. Jeezaloo, Bob, you're gonna rip right through that poor little swim suit!"

Cynthia giggled. Of course her tits did that magical giggle jiggle, and Bob got even harder. It actually lifted the tight speedo away from him a little and his hairy balls nearly tumbled out. I wanted to tell Cynthia she shouldn't bend over in his presence, but I tried to remember she was still just a church friend.

Jeana took off her top and she poured us all some Backyard Tea. Donald and Bob sat down at the table, sipping their drinks, watching us girls.

"How long have you guys been doing this?" Cynthia asked.

"Friends, you mean, on the boat? Just this summer," Jeana said. "It's funny how it grew out of just a casual church friendship. We used to be such good Christians."

"You still are!" Cynthia said. "Better than most. I know you break some big rules, but you're good people. No one else wanted much to do with me. I've been at our church for years. You guys are the only ones who treat me like a real friend, with real trust. That's what being a Christian is, I think."

"Aww, Honey!" I said. "That's a sweet thing to say. You're right though, we break some big rules. We love having you with us, but maybe we're not the best influence."

"I'm thirty-eight, Margaret. I'm past the stage where influence matters."

"That's a refreshing attitude," Bob said.

A little while later we were all out in the sun, sprawled on lounges and sitting in chairs. The back deck was a full house of naked sun-worshipers.

I was sitting on the edge of Jeana's lounge, massaging some sunscreen into her lower back, flirting with her ass, wondering if I should put my hands on it the way I do when Cynthia's not around. Cynthia was next to us, lying on her stomach, with her head turned, watching me.

"Sometimes I get the feeling I'm interrupting something," she said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You. The four of you."

"There's nothing to interrupt. We're just lazy bums who like to lie around in the hot sun."

"Yeah, but...there's more, isn't there?" she said, lifting herself up on her elbows. "I mean, you guys are awfully close. I'm not judging; I'm okay with it. I just...sometimes I feel like a fifth wheel."

"But Cynth..."

"No, wait. Hear me out," she said. "I don't know if I'll have the nerve to say this if I don't get it out right now. I...want to be a part of it. If what I'm reading into all this really is what I think it is, I want to be a part of it. You guys are the best people I've ever known. I don't want to be a fifth wheel. I want...all of it."

Jeana rose up on her elbows, too, and I knew Donald and Bob were attentive. I didn't know what to say, and none of them did, either.

"Am I crazy, or are you guys, like, one big couple?" Cynthia asked. "Do you have open marriages? That's the feeling I get. I've never been around it before so I'm...maybe I shouldn't be saying this, but...I'm okay with it. I want to be a part of it, if that's a...thing that could happen."

"I don't know what to say, Cynthia. I don't want to lie to you..."

"Then don't. You don't have to worry, I'm okay with it. Really."

"But the church," I said. "It's...delicate. My job, everything..."

"I know," she said. "Do you trust me? For three weeks I've tried to figure out how to get you to trust me. I really, really want this. I need it."

The total silence told me no one wanted to object. "Are you sure?" I said to her. "Like we said earlier, it's breaking a whole lot of rules."

"That's the best part," she said. "I'm tired of rules."

The horniness hovering over the aft end of that big wooden boat was palpable.

"I had a feeling you knew," Jeana said. "You're a naughty girl, hanging around us like that, teasing us with your beautiful body. Would you like to know what my husband said about you, after that first day that you showed us your tits?"

"Yes," Cynthia said quietly. "Tell me."

"He said he wants to fuck you."

Cynthia blushed, her whole body looking pinker. She looked like she couldn't get a proper breath, like her lung muscles were out of whack. She barely got some words out. "I want him to," she said.

"Do you want to go inside, on the bed with him?" Jeana asked. "Do you want Donald, too?"

"Is it all right?" Cynthia asked me.

"Enjoy yourself, dear. Let it all out, all those years of frustration. They're wonderful lovers."

We all watched as she took a deep breath and moved cat-like to a position sitting on her feet on the lounge. She looked especially bootylicious that way, with her hips spread and her trim waist looking even trimmer. The boys couldn't see her front, but it didn't matter.

"My God, Cynthia," Bob said. "Has anyone ever told you you've got the nicest ass in all the world?"

"I do not," she said, looking shyly over her shoulder at him. "It's too big."

"I hope you like doggy style," Jeana said, saying exactly what I was thinking. "Our boys are gonna go nuts on you."

"I do like it."

Her face showed an adorable combination of shyness and mischief and excitement when Bob stood up to get things moving. His massive cock was fully hard and ready.

"Wow," Jeana said. "You certainly got his juices flowing."

Cynthia was still sitting on her feet, watching over her shoulder as he approached. I thought he'd reach for her hand and escort her to the privacy of the cabin, but he moved in close and his eyes told her what he wanted. I saw her inhale deeply, taking in the scent of his sun-warmed cock. It was right there close, and she reached for it and she pulled it to her mouth. She moaned and sighed in a different kind of way, the way a woman does when an interminably long dry spell has just ended. And oh yeah, the fact that it was the nicest cock in the land might have had something to do with it.

"Come here, babe," I said to Donald. "Lets have a party."

Cynthia was going to town on Bob, moaning with every breath; deep, affecting moans that reverberated. I could see her tongue swirling on him, and her cheeks bulged with the huge tip of him when she changed angles. Her hands were all over him — balls, ass, hairy abs, muscly thighs. I could tell she'd been thinking about it for a while, and the real thing was even better that she thought it would be. I knew the feeling well.

Bob's head was alternating from thrown back to watching her, thrown back to watching her. I'm sure he was amazed to have his cock in Cynthia Marley's mouth, and I'm sure he would have cum without much more effort, gushing right down her throat, but Cynthia needed to be fucked, and she needed it bad.

She watched me and Jeana give Donald a double team blowjob, and she made herself fuckable on her knees, shoulders down on the cushion, eyes facing us, with that badonkadonk ass and mouthwatering pussy up where Bob could make use of it all. His face went deep between those sweet butt cheeks and his head shook the way a dog's does when it's wrestling with a piece of meat it doesn't want to give up. It sounded like he cried out in joy, but it was muffled by all the sexy flesh.

Cynthia was already into the "Oh God!" phase, her hands clutching at the cushion, her eyes wide and her mouth open. It was a beautiful sight. I loved watching her reactions.

"Fffuucckk!" Bob said quietly, taking one last long lick of the spectacular pussy. He put one knee on the cushion, next to her leg, and he pressed his rock-hard shaft into her. She rose up just enough so her tits were hanging free, and that big pussy absorbed him, with her eyes even wider and her silent mouth open even more. Bob's hands were on the round cheeks of her ass as his cock went deep, and the look on his face was priceless.

"Feel good, babe?" Jeana asked him. "You look like you're in fuckin' Heaven. Sexy as Hell."

I smiled, stroking Donald's cock with my hand. Heaven and Hell, I thought to myself. God and the Devil, together again.

"Oh, shit, Cynth!" Bob said, thrusting deep but slow. "You feel fuckin' amazing!"

He held his breath and fucked her slow; he huffed out a lungful, breathed deep and held it again. He looked like a delirious lost boy, drunk on the feeling but trying to hold it together. And then he started fucking for real. Vigorous, endlessly long strokes, deep into Cynthia's gut. She gasped and she started moving, her round hips meeting his thrusts, her big tits beginning to swing under her. She and Bob were both sweating, shiny and starting to drip from the relentlessly hot sun.

"Holy shhittt!" she said, whispery but forceful. She was feeling it, fully involved. Bob's big hands moved to her shoulders for some purchase and he was thudding into her, making the flesh of her ass quake like nothing I'd ever seen. His potent thuds forced begging, crying, nearly screamed words out of her. "Fuck!...Me!...Fuck!...Me!" Her ass and her tits were alive, revved up, nearly out of control, but she wasn't. She held on, gripping tight, white knuckled, and Bob fucked her begging body with everything he had. Slapping together fast and hard. Dripping. Quaking. Pink flushed skin and a rash of goosebumps and hard nipples wildly grazing the cushion. He pulled her hair and she screamed for him to fuck her even harder. I could almost see the orgasm on the outside of her, but it was inside where she was melting down, eyes rolled back, open mouth gurgling with devilish noise. Bob was crying out and his eyes rolled, too. Everything he had was enough. Cynthia's dam had been broken. She was ours now.

Dazed and stunned but still hungry, she'd turned and was sitting, leaning back on her hands, her legs spread wide, feet on the deck on either side of the lounge. Her labia majora was bright pink, tenderized by Bob's hammering. The minora inside looked raw, like a gash that'd been ripped open. Not bloody, just raw, like woman's meat. Bob's seed leaked out, dripping down onto the cushion.

She'd glanced hopefully at Donald when she was repositioning, so I gave him a push that held my permission. A moment later he was there, on his knees, his arms encircling her thighs, his mouth kissing the warm smoothness of the inside of them. Her eyes were wild, crazed; her mouth still taking in huge lungfuls of hot summer air. "I wanna be your slut," she said. I wondered if she'd read that line in a book, and I wondered how long she'd been waiting for the perfect time to say it.

My Donald's mouth attached itself to her tender, raw, pussy flesh, and a gravely, guttural groan emanated from her mouth. The Devil was in her, making himself known. Bob presented her with what was left of his cock. It was red from use, drooping some, and dripping some. Cynthia licked the white drips off the tip, and she stuffed as much of him as she could into her mouth. Her hand was on the rest of the long shaft, her fingers sliding on the white grease left behind from the depths of her pussy. She mouthed the big cock differently, with reverence, like it was even more special than she'd dreamed.

Donald made her cum with his mouth, bless his heart, and then the machismo hit him and he pulled her by her womanly thighs to position her for his entry. His cock thrusted its way in with little effort, and I wondered what it felt like — a piston forced into a cylinder already filled with hot oil. I'm guessing it felt amazing, for Donald and for Cynthia, too. I know I love it when the boys do that to me.

She was flat on her back, and Bob was tending to her while Donald held her legs up and fucked her. First Bob kissed her, which surprised me by how surprising it seemed. Bob Smythe kissing Cynthia Marley! With tongues and moaning passion! A month before that day, I never would have guessed I'd see something like that.

Bob's hands were on her tits when he kissed her. Her breasts had been sexualized in all our minds, I'm sure, but seeing them like that, with a man's big hand fondling and squeezing, it showed how soft and delicious and sexually powerful they really were.

Donald's eyes were there, watching the tit play, watching her big dark nipples flick between Bob's fingers, watching the soft, round flesh that spread right off the sides of her.

She was coming alive again from Donald's insistent fucking, breathing hard through her gritted teeth, her wild eyes staring into his, egging him on. His rhythm was precise as he slowly sped up, reaching a sort of perfection when his body started slapping against her big thighs and the hot flesh of her quaking ass.

"Yeah, fuck me!...Fuck me!" Her voice was desperate and wild and sounded ravenous. Impatient. Pleading for what she so desperately needed. "Oh, God!"

Bob's mouth was on her. He was ravenous, too, devouring her big, soft tits. The sight affected me deeply, my skin going full-body tingle, my pussy nearly dripping. I moaned and Jeana took my hand. It was as close as I've ever been to having an orgasm from just watching.

Cynthia's back arched up and she clutched Bob's head, holding his mouth tightly to her tits. She was cumming.