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From: suenewhamp@aol.com (SueNewHamp)
Subject: Sue's 14th: Catty Corner 2/2 (orgy, mast)
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NOTE: This story is, of course, for adults only --  so don't read it if you
don't think you can be mature about it. Reading and writing these stories
should be acts of fantasy, and I hope that you can keep your notions of real
and fantasy life separate in your mind. I know I can. If you would like to let
me know what you think, or if you have a follow-up fantasy (which is something
that I REALLY like), you can reach me at SueNewHamp@aol.com ... but I can't
promise to return your emails... I do have some other things to do in my real
life! 
**********************************

THE COCKTAIL TABLE part 2 of 2
     By Sue

Now that the women are engaged in exhibitionist masturbation, I turn my
attention to the men. I tell them to take off their underwear. That command is
a relief to them, since the restraining embrace of the fabric has become
uncomfortable. Their hard shafts of pink flesh come springing out from their
traps, and all six point straight outwards and upwards, bouncing against arms
as the men bend over to push the bikinis down their legs and over their feet.
When they are all standing upright again, their erections sway and bob
randomly. All of the men have wet spots on the heads of their cocks, and I have
to sternly demand that they keep their hands off their meat. I make them
perform like the Rockettes, twitching their cocks up and down in unison, then
grinding their hips so that their erections oscillate in big circles. It is
sort of a masculine version of the bump and grind tit-twirling that strippers
are famous for. Drops of shiny precome occasionally flip off the tips of the
dancing cocks.

The ladies on the couch still have their fingers teasing their cunts, but the
men’s show evokes some whistling and hollering of encouragement. I have to
remind them to keep up their show for them men, who I give permission to start
stroking their hard cocks. Now it is time for me to take part in the show.
Standing on the towel-covered coffee table, I flip off my red pumps and sway
provocatively. My fingers raking through my blond hair, lifting it over my
head, licking my lips provocatively as I stare brazenly at all the hard cocks
and dripping cunts. I let my hair fall over my face, and twist my neck back and
forth so that it flails around. My hands drop to my shoulders, pulling the
spaghetti straps down onto my upper arms. One arm reaches behind me to unzip my
dress, while the other holds the front over my breasts. Again, I rake my
fingers through my blond hair, reaching upwards while I continue my sensuous
hula dance. Released from the support of my hand, the top edge of my dress
slips slowly down my body. My breasts are revealed first, as the sewn edge of
the material stuck on the hard points of my nipples before releasing with an
inaudible pop. As the liberated weight of my breasts sway to my dancing, the
dress falls further, over my taut tummy and then past my hips. My shocking red
panties are now revealed, An Tim immediately exclaims about how wet the crotch
is. When I bend at the waist to look, I can see a dark crimson spreading in an
irregular circle centered on my cunt. I hadn’t realized how aroused I had
become. I guess I was too busy being the boss of this orgy.

My velveteen and satin dress is now gathered in a pile around my bare feet.
Balancing on one foot, I drag the other one gradually upwards, rubbing it
against my leg. It slides up shin, and when it gets to my knee, I let go of my
hair and reach down to grab the insole of my foot, pulling it slowly up further
and further. This spreads my thighs wider and wider apart. I know that the
bulge of my mons veneris is pronounced and apparent to the gawking looks of my
audience. Eventually, I am able to position the heel of my foot right into the
crotch of my panties, and when I exert some pressure inwards, I can feel my
labia spread inside my satin panties. Now the blunt hard heel is pressed right
into the nub of my clitoris. Yes, that feels good. In this room full of
masturbating partiers, I am the last to actually touch myself. Precariously
balanced on one foot, I massage my whole cunt with my other foot. My juices mix
with the satin, making a slick lubricant.

I can’t keep that position for long, so I let my foot down to the table and
kick my dress out of the way. I then pull my panties down my legs and pick them
up. Leaning over the edge of the table, I press my damp, aromatic panties into
the face of each of the men, letting them smell and feel the lusty moisture
that saturated the satin. The last man in the line is Tim, and he takes the
panties from my hand, and pulls the crotch band away from the rest. Then he
puts just the crotch between his lips and chews and sucks the sweet nectar into
his mouth. That is so sexy. 

I am naked. The men are still pumping up and down on their steel-hard cocks,
and the women are rubbing their clits harder. Everyone is breathing hard, and
again, I remind them all to hold off. If anyone has a premature orgasm, he or
she will have to leave the room. Nobody wants to miss anything, and I can see
several people slacken the pace of their masturbating. Facing the men, I squat
down on the table and begin to stimulate my own clit. But my legs are tired, so
I lie down on the covered coffee table. On my right is the line of 6 men, but
all I really see are their beautiful cocks about a foot higher than my
reclining body. On my left are the women strung out like beads on a necklace,
starting above my head and queued up down to my feet. Their open cunts are even
with my body, and when I look towards them, I am looking right up into their
cunts. Everyone is so close. Their sexual organs are so red, so wet, so
engorged with blood. 

MY calves are hooked over the sides of the table leaving me spread open wide
for all to see. I take the index and middle fingers of my left hand and use
them to spread my labia wide. The large bump of my clitoral hood is the lone
pinnacle in the wet flatlands between my fingers. And my clitoris is poking out
from its protective shield, looking for a friendly finger. My right hand slides
down from my breasts, and I use my middle finger to tease my clit up and down,
then back and forth. I may have been the last to start pleasuring myself, but I
make up for the lost time quickly.

I ask the men to gather closer, so that their knees are bumping up against my
right side. Their cocks are extended right over my writing body. The women on
my left lean forwards so that they can see how their men masturbate. Some of
them pump straight up and down, and other use a sort of twisting motion. One
guy is using the palms of both hands, as if he was making a snake out of clay.
Another is pinching his nipples with his free hand. A couple of the men are
fondling their balls. Some of the men are using saliva to lubricate their
hands, either by drooling onto their cocks, or spitting into their palms.
Others have so much precome that their saliva isn’t necessary. Tim has the
largest cock in the group, and he has both of his hands on his cock, one
pumping and pulsing on the lubricated crown, and the other pistoning up and
down on the rest of the shaft.

The women too have varying techniques. One woman has her three middle fingers
deeply embedded into her vagina, while the palm squashes down onto her mons,
stimulating her clitoris. A couple of women are employing the technique that I
am using. One of them is flicking her finger over her clitoris so quickly that
her motions are a blur. One woman is pinching her nipples extremely hard, and
pulling them way out from her huge breasts. That would hurt me, but she is
obviously enjoying it. Jill has her cunt the closest to my face, and I can
smell her flowing juices. She isn’t rubbing her clitoris at all. Instead, she
is using her index finger to hook into the entrance of her vagina, where she
has found her G spot. She is getting incredible satisfaction from stoking that
sensitive little bulge hidden inside her cunt.

I’m getting close, and my muscles are vibrating with excitement and
anticipation. It’s time for the countdown. “Five”..... I tell everyone to start
to build up to their orgasm, cause we want to all come at once. Four”......
Ladies, spread your thighs wide so that we can all see “Three”...... Men, lean
thrust your hips forwards so that we can see your throbbing hunks of solid
man-flesh, “Two”.......... you can all be so proud of your prowess, your
natural beauty, and your sexual awareness. “One”........... Everyone let us
show us if you are really here, really involved, really ready. “Blastoff” 

Suddenly the room is full of sound, the sound of 13 simultaneous climaxes.
Whimpers, grunts, ragged breathing, tight little screams, Tarzan-like hollers,
shrill squeals, full-moon howls.... all mixed into a symphony of ecstasy. And
the semen shooting out of six hard cocks, splattering onto my face, my breasts,
my stomach, my churning fingers, my thighs. Blasts of come arching over me and
onto the faces of the women on my left. Faces contorted my racking orgasms.
Onto heaving breasts and big gumdrop nipples. Dripping in stringy dollops from
nipples into the hot foaming cunts, intermingling with the pungent cunt juices.
Pearly semen spewing onto the pearls of my necklace (maybe this is what they
make fake pearls out of!)

When I ask the women to help me clean up, I expect that they will use their
fingers to scoop up the come. But they were not strangers to sapphic love. They
all get on their knees around the table and lick all the sticky stuff off of
me, lapping up every ropey strand. My post-orgasmic bliss is extended by the
light stimulation of six tongues rasping over my nipples, lapping into my
navel, and kissing through my cunt hair. The men massage the shoulders of the
cat-like women, and they talk about how original and exotic this group
masturbation had been. It turns out that they thought they had tried everything
in their group, but they had never watched each other masturbate. It has been
most enlightening to see exactly how all the other members of the group choose
to stimulate themselves. There are so many ways to do it.

Everyone is getting dressed to go home, transforming themselves back not their
nerdy scientists personae. I remain splayed out on the coffee table (or should
I call it the “cock-tail table”). I can still feel the coolness on my skin
where the remaining semen and saliva are drying. What a night! How am I going
to have the energy to drive home this evening? Perhaps Jill and Tim will put me
up for the night. I’m sure that we can think of some good ways to pass the
time. 

Note: “Slippery When Wet” is mentioned in this story. It is also known as
“Sue’s 9th,” which is a two-part story. Watch for it to be reposted from time
to time, but please don’t ask me to send it to you by Email. 

Another Note: despite the fact that this story purports to divulge the details
of an encounter between myself and some people that I met through the Internet,
I want to make something very clear: this is purely a figment of my
imagination. This is not real life. I am not interested in meeting real people
in these kinds of ways. On the other hand, I’d be glad to hear about your
fantasies about meeting me... Fantasy.,...... get it?

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