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From: kellis <kellis@dhp.com>
Subject: {Kellis} "End of the Party" ( MF cons)
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End of the Party
--a story by Kellis, Copyright 1998

    At least one of the whores was still awake.  She raised her head at
the sound of the door closing behind him.  She was seated on the
floor -- actually on one of the couch cushions, leaning back against the
couch, head thrown back on another cushion, one arm around the nearer set
of male hips, her torso concealed by the attached knees.  Her own legs
were splayed out among the bodies on the floor.  Her eyes glittered above
the hairy genitals beside her.  She licked something off her lips and spat
it away.
    The punch bowl was yet about half full.  He filled a plastic cup and
made his way to the woman, carefully stepping between the bodies.
Kneeling beside her, he extended the cup.  Her free hand came up to take
it and she drank thirstily.
    He studied her while she drank, wondering how long it takes seminal
fluid to dry into the crinkled layer that spotted belly, breasts,
shoulders and face.  Beneath it he saw lines beside her mouth and wrinkles
around her eyes.  Her breasts were much fuller than those of the coeds
typically recruited for these parties.  The hand holding the cup was the
clincher.  It exhibited the transverse wrinkles of a woman in the fifth or
sixth decade.
    He looked around the room.  The other women were intertwined among
men's bodies.  They were identifiable mainly by a relative deficiency of
hair.  He counted only three others.  Perhaps some lay behind the couch.
    She lowered the cup and licked her lips.  "Thanks a lot!  I needed
that."
    He took the empty cup and flipped it toward a distant trash can.  "How
long have you been asleep?"
    "What time is it?"
    "Nearly four."
    "I wasn't quite asleep.  I was wondering if I had enough energy left
to get up and wet my mouth."
    "The boys didn't bring you drinks?"
    She snorted.  "Not many cold ones."
    He looked around again.  "I believe you and I are the only people
awake."
    "Oh, these people aren't asleep!"  Her voice indicated disgust.
"They're either dead drunk or just dead."
    "Dead?  Why do you say that?"
    She inclined her head.  "That chick over there was vomiting into the
trash can the last time I noticed her.  Don't you think she looks rather
blue?"
    He rose up and went to the indicated body.  The girl, quite a young
one from the size of breasts and nipples, lay on her side, vomit drying on
the carpet before her gaping mouth.  One cheek was bright blue.  Vomit
matted her blond hair.  He leaned down and heard her gentle breathing, at
close range audible even above the cacophony of youthful snoring.
    He returned to the watching woman.  "She's alive."
    "That's good.  I was worried there might be an investigation.  She's a
real bimbo.  Strangled on come."
    "She's awfully young.  Strangled on what?"
    "Seminal fluid."
    His eyebrows rose.  "Are you certain?"
    "Oh, yes.  Coughed it all over both guys."
    "Then that may not be vomit in her hair."
    "Could be anything.  They slapped her around."
    "That explains it.  She's heading for a black eye.  <Both> guys?"
    "Sucking two at once."
    He frowned.  "Strangled with <two>?"
    "They came off together."
    "Isn't that unusual?"
    "Not very.  Sometimes men trigger each other.  Haven't you noticed?"
    "I don't have your advantage."
    "What advantage?  A guy can suck two at once same as a chick."
    "That's a matter of opinion, though I appreciate your frankness."
    She grinned.  "Why not?  You're naked, too."
    "Look at this one.  The way they're lying, <she> must've been handling
about four!"
    "She's the greedy one.  She'll be sore tomorrow."
    "Here's another with it in her hair."
    The woman raised a hand to her head.  "In mine, too!  That first crowd
really spewed."
    "It started out with lower classmen.  Where are the rest of the
women?"
    "The rest?"
    "Understood we'd have seven but I only count four."
    "You're lucky to get four on a holiday weekend."
    "Chip promised us seven, damn it!"
    "<Chip> only found three!  I was --"
    "Excuse me.  I don't mean to argue with you.  I'll take it up with
Chip.  Good god!  Do you realize how many guys you four have handled
tonight?"
    "How many?"
    "Over fifty, forty of them just kids."
    "Yeah, kids."  She smiled dreamily.  "They do keep coming back."
    "That explains your condition."
    She rubbed a hand over her belly.  "Covered with come, you mean."
    He stepped over two bodies, hooked his foot under a female knee and
turned the owner on her back.  The girl snorted and distinctly ordered,
"Don't come in me!"  She worked her hips a few times before returning to
dreamland.
    The wakeful woman grunted.  "They all say that, as if it does any
good."
    "They've come about everywhere else on her," he noted.
    "It's a wonder we're not swimming in it."
    He looked down at the tone of her voice, which conveyed a measure of
satisfaction.  She grinned back.  "Good stuff!"
    "Glad you think so!"
    He took a breath, looking around.  "What a scene!"
    "Yeah.  I can see how you like it."
    "What do you see?"
    "Your tone of voice."
    "You didn't notice this?"  He twisted his hips, causing his erection
to flop.  When she failed to react, he added, "And what an odor!"
    "What do you smell?"
    "Ammonia.  Woman.  Vomit.  Piss.  We have to replace the carpet here
every year."
    "Woman?"
    "Oh, yes.  Maybe not the bimbo, but some of you clearly enjoyed the
party!"
    She grinned.  "Some of us.  You're really into this, aren't you?"
    "Yes.  When it eases off is the best part."  He stepped forward
gingerly, crouched beside her opposite the hips that her arm still
enclosed, and thrust his erect organ toward her mouth.  Her free hand rose
to grasp it, stretching back the skin.  She said, "Tell me what you think
of it all."
    "All what?"
    Her eyes swept around the room.  "All this."  Immediately she sucked
the head into her mouth, closing her lips behind it, while her eyes
remained locked upon his.
    "What I think of it," he repeated, adding with a chuckle, "Never got
blown on a soap box before.  All right."
    He pitched his voice low.  "I think it's the fundamental state of the
human animal.  Some would say that's all it is, mere animal behavior, but
only the human is capable of <this>:  two at the time, four at the time,
in mouth, cunt, asshole, between the tits...  Look at these women!  Look
at yourself, covered in sweat and seminal fluid, your hair matted with it,
your breasts spotted by it, your thighs streaked with it, surrounded by
limp dicks that you've exhausted.  And you stink!  It's an odor that grabs
me by the balls.
    "Once aroused in a group, women will accept any number of men.  Here
we have no issue of morality, ethics or consent.  All we have is sex, raw
and unadorned.  You girls are paid plenty to get you here in the first
place, but you're not paid by the hour nor by the squirt.  You'll fuck all
night because it's the way you're made, the same as men.  It's the human
thing to do.  We've mostly forgotten it, but this is the way our ancestors
celebrated.  Two thousand years ago half the kids of Northern Europe had
birthdays nine months after the winter solstice.  In the dead of winter
everybody screwed everybody else, to keep warm and to have fun.  Learning
to keep warm without our fellows crowded around us has cost us a lot in
the fun department.  We get a little of it back in parties like this one."
    He fell silent, watching his shaft appear and disappear.  Her cheek
repeatedly brushed his thigh.  After a while he commented, "You're doing
great, honey.  I can feel it strike the back of your throat.  How do you
keep from gagging?"
    She grunted nasally.
    "Worse than a dentist, am I?  Listen, I'm getting too old to make it
this way.  Come over here in the corner and let me suck you, too."
    When she released him, he rose, extended his hand and pulled her to
her feet.  The man whose hips she relinquished woke suddenly, sat up,
looked blankly at the man and woman before him, turned sideways and pulled
his knees up onto the couch.  His snores resumed on the next breath.
    The woman yawned and stretched, using the motion to lean forward and
study the face of the man who had raised her.  Unfortunately he backed
politely away at just that moment.  She was terribly near-sighted,
uncorrectable by contact lenses, for which she was grateful after seeing
the difficulties contacts caused for other women in such parties.  Her
spectacles were in her purse in the dressing room.  She suspected him to
be a much older man than the others here tonight but so far she had
clearly seen only the head of his penis, circumcised and a bit knobby.
    She followed him to the only corner empty of supine bodies, where he
sank to the thickly padded carpet, saying, "Dear, would you please kneel
over my face?"
    "Don't you care about disease?" she wondered.
    "Should I?"
    She shrugged.  "I'm clean ...  That is, I was until tonight."
    "If you had any needle marks I'd care.  And I know these lads are
healthy.  Won't you come on down?"
    "Will I ever!"
    He thrust his tongue into juicy heat as her lips encircled him again.
He was pleasantly surprised by the size and relative hardness of her
clitoris, protruding almost to the urethral opening.  She shivered as he
sucked it into his mouth.  He put fingers between the dependent lips,
three then four.  From the other hand he applied as many to her anus.  By
that time her hips were rotating.  He worked hands and tongue, dividing
his attention between her response at this end and his own at the other.
Her juices increased as her thighs tightened in orgasm.  He touched tongue
lightly to the sensitive clitoris, holding it still as her body shuddered.
She repaid that favor by relaxing her mouth around him and squeezing his
testicles as he spurted against her palate.  When the spasms ceased, she
craned her face back to him inquiringly.
    "Turn around," he ordered.  She reversed herself and knelt upon him
while deftly tucking the still dribbling organ into its intended
receptacle.  He reached up and cupped her breasts, squeezing them gently.
"Thank you, my dear.  That was expertly done.  You are a credit to your
profession."
    She grinned wryly.  "Will you write me a testimonial?"
    "If you wish.  May I ask your name?"
    "Harriet.  And you're wrong about one thing."
    "I'm very pleased to know you, Harriet, especially so well as this.
Please call me Bill.  Wrong how?  Are you about to give me some bad news?"
    She grinned.  "Hello, Bill.  No, unless you're a man who only likes
whores."
    "<Only>?  I know no such man.  Ah!  Meaning you're not one?"
    "I'm not."
    "Well, why not?  I mean, what're you doing <here>?"
    She moved her hips.  "Enjoying a very pleasant fuck with a considerate
gentleman."
    "Thank you.  But that's not exactly the question."
    "Chip is a friend of mine.  He knows what I like.  He thought of me
tonight."
    "When he was shorthanded, is that it?"
    She chuckled.  "Shortcunted is closer."
    He wiggled his hips.  "Nothing short about this one."
    "Thank you.  Can I ask what brings <you> here?"
    "I?  I'm one of the frat trustees."
    "Oh.  What I mean is, why did you get here so late?"
    "I was here earlier, Harriet.  I watched the suck-off.  Now I'm
surprised you didn't win."
    "You're surprised?  Why?"
    "You have a very expert way with your lips and tongue.  I'll vouch for
that.  I'm surprised those novices even had a chance."
    "The chick who won -- did you notice her guy?"
    "Who notices a guy?  She got his juice in about five strokes."
    "That's right.  And did you notice how it ran down her chin?"
    "Hmm."
    "He was a nerd who'd probably been studying so hard he hadn't jerked
off in a week."
    "I get your point."
    "Which one of us got yours?"
    "Huh?  Oh.  I left after the suck-off."
    "Really?"
    "I watched for awhile.  Mob psychology is a fascinating component of
the orgy.  Inhibitions vanish in a group.  I doubt any of you would take
on three men at once unless another woman was doing it, too.  And some of
the gymnastics were inventive.  Body alignment to put three dicks in the
same hole is an interesting exercise in topology.  I left when you girls
were so mobbed I couldn't see anything but feet."
    "And didn't return till four?"
    He grinned.  "I took a nap."
    "But you came back naked.  What if we'd all been asleep?"
    "It's what I expected."
    "And if we had been?"
    He shrugged.
    Her eyebrows rose and she chuckled.  "Did you know your dick just
hardened up?"
    "Ah, yes."
    "I get it.  You'd've taken one of us anyway, wouldn't you?"
    He replied confidently, "At least one would've awakened."
    "But if all were dead drunk?"
    He shook his head.  "I'm not a necrophile, Harriet."
    She studied him with a knowing smile.  "Your dick disagrees.  It's my
lie detector.  Men like a woman to be helpless, don't they?"
    He laughed, took a breath and changed the subject.  "So Chip knows
what you like, does he?  What is that, Harriet?"
    She gestured around them.  "The same as you, except I don't have to be
so philosophical about it."
    "That's an interesting distinction.  Would you explain it?"
    "Sure.  It's the difference between male and female.  You're already
getting soft again.  No, don't apologize!  I know you can't help it.  And
my guess is you hate it worse than I do.  That's my point.  Men can mostly
only talk about it.  But if you had a line waiting, I could fuck the last
one just as well as I did the first one.  And enjoy him, too!"
    "Remarkable!  But you're not a whore?"
    "Meaning, why ain't I?"
    "With your attitude ...  God, I'd sure be if <I> were female!"
    "I guess I'm a bit shy, Bill."
    "Shy!"
    "Really.  This kind of party is okay.  These kids have too much to
lose to get out of hand.  But I could never walk the streets."
    "Too dangerous?"
    "Of course, with the addicts ready to knock you over and the cops
entrapping you.  Nowadays a streetwalker has to be desperate."
    "I see what you mean."
    "And you must have noticed ..."
    "Noticed what?"
    "Again, a party with lots of women is okay.  An old broad is a novelty
here.  But nobody will pay for an old call girl."
    "You're hardly an 'old broad!'"
    She grinned wryly.  "Thank you.  I don't look it, quite, but I'm older
than you think."
    "Old enough to give great head, Harriet."
    "Age improves head?"
    "Well, I once knew an old girl who took her teeth out.  That's good
for your sense of security."
    They both chuckled.  He continued, "But it's knowledge that improves
head.  You swallowed every drop, didn't you?"
    "So what?  These chicks do that, too, when they don't strangle."
    "But you know to balloon your mouth while you swallow.  I'll bet they
don't."
    "How'd you know I did?"
    "I'd certainly know if you hadn't!"
    She nodded.  "You did, too -- the equivalent, that is."
    "Maybe we both had good teachers."
    She grinned.  "Head 101."
    "I wish!  It's too bad there's no such course."
    "Do you think I could teach it, Bill?"
    "You could certainly demonstrate it.  But I'm not sure today's crop of
students is amenable to anything beyond their laptops."
    Her grin widened.  "This would be <below> their laptops."
    He grinned in response.  "I like your whimsy, too, Harriet."
    "But don't sell the current crop short."
    "You know something about them, do you?"
    "I do have a real profession, Bill.  I'm a school teacher."
    "Are you!  In the public schools?"
    "Yes."
    "Then you definitely ought to charge for your services here.  Don't
you know what those girls, even the bimbo, will take home from this
party?"
    "About a quart?"
    "I mean <money>!  In fact we're paying Chip for you, too, you know.
At least demand your share from him.  What grade do you teach?"
    "The middle grades mainly."
    "Like kids, do you?"
    "Love them."
    "I've wondered since I was a kid myself:  do you ever notice boys'
hard-ons?  Or are your kids too young for that?"
    "I've seen it in first graders.  Of course I notice.  Women always
check out male britches.  Men invented clothing for just that reason."
    "Oh, yeah?  I wonder who started that rumor.  My wife's friend told
her the same ...  Harriet!  Harriet?  My god!"  His torso rose off the
floor, rocking her back slightly.  "You're she!  You're Harriet
Bornwiler!"
    Her face paled.  She took a deep breath and leaned closer, squinting
at his face.  She said breathlessly, "William Thursday?"
    He stared at her.  "I didn't recognize you without your glasses."
    "And I ... can't see anything without them."
    He observed dryly, "Unless it's very close, you mean."
    "I <knew> I felt a mustache!  But it's so pale ..."
    "Oh, Harriet!"  He began to chuckle.
    "Your dick's hard again!"
    "As you said, a lie detector."
    "What's the lie?"
    "You and I are the lie.  And the lay.  I guess it's telling you I've
wanted you since we first met."
    "You have?"
    "Do you recall it?  You were waiting for Janey to bring you something.
I caught you scratching your twat."
    "Then you <did> see me!"
    "Well, I saw you scratching something under your skirt."
    "I had a terrible yeast infection.  Janey loaned me her salve.  Bill,
that was almost ten years ago."
    "It looked to me that you had taken off your panties."
    "I <had>!  I couldn't stand anything to touch me.  That was the worst
case I ever had."
    "Where'd you get it?"
    "From my husband, of course."
    "Do I know him?"
    "Probably not.  He was an insurance agent."
    "'Was?'"
    "Still is.  I mean we were divorced last year."
    "Where'd he get a yeast infection ten years ago?"
    "Where do you think?  Yeast don't live long on a dick."
    His chuckle had subsided.  Now it resumed.
    "What's so funny?"
    "You are.  This is rich!  Janey thinks you're the most innocent of her
friends.  She actually said, 'Poor Harriet, doesn't know what she's
missing.'  Ho!  Ho!"
    The woman chuckled also.
    He added, "Whereas Janey is the one with the short change."
    Her smile widened.  "You think so?"
    His chuckle ceased.  "We'll have to compare notes one of these days,
but right now ..."  He leaned close, studying her lips.  "How many dicks
have you swallowed tonight?"
    She cocked an eyebrow.  "I don't know.  Lots."  She grinned.  "But I
gave 'em all back."
    "Did all of them come in your mouth?"
    "I don't know.  A lot missed.  A lot jerked out in the middle.  Boys
do that.  Their friends tell them it's dangerous to let a woman suck them
dry."
    He nodded.  "I remember.  It's a natural if stupid conclusion from the
fact that pressure on the glans penis at orgasm is unbearable."
    "Like a clit."
    "So I gather."  His arms went around her as he sank back, pulling her
breasts down against him, her face atop his.  "God, Harriet!  If you knew
how long I've wanted ..."
    He fell silent, kissing her.  His tongue probed deeply, laving her
teeth, palate and gums.  She responded in kind at first but soon raised
her face away with a smile.  "You kissed me once before."
    "Under the mistletoe.  Janey chewed me out later."
    "Because you held it too long?"
    "Because I used my tongue."
    "You told her?"
    "No.  She saw my throat working.  Too bad the light was right over our
heads."
    "I tried to encourage you."
    "Did you?  I thought your eyes twinkled."
    She chuckled slightly.  "Janey actually apologized for you.  She said
you'd been drinking."
    His mouth firmed.  He rolled forward, up onto his knees, laying the
woman on her back before reconnecting.  She wrapped her arms around his
neck, asking "Is this what you wanted?"
    "You know it is."
    "I wanted it, too."
    "I wish you'd told me!"
    "How can a woman say that to a close friend's husband?"
    "Which is why I didn't pursue it.  Well, better late than never, they
say, although it's getting very late for me."
    "How old are you, Bill?"
    "Fifty-eight."
    "That's not too late, as you are demonstrating very well.  But what
are we going to do?  You've caught me and I you.  Is this too good a story
for you not to brag?"
    "Harriet, I've wanted you for ten years.  This is our first time.  I
don't want it to be the last.  Do you really think I'd hazard that for a
brag?"
    "I don't know.  I do know that men brag.  Once David persuaded me to
let another couple in our bed.  I think he told the whole county about
it."
    "David was your husband?"
    "He <was>.  Emphasis on the past tense."
    "Well, I'm not David.  I'll tell no one about this.  But, Harriet ..."
    "But what?"
    "If you keep going to these parties, sooner or later ..."
    "I know it.  It's a risk, hopefully not as bad as a streetwalker's,
but one I have to take.  I won't give them up, Bill."
    He began to thrust.  Her legs crossed behind him and his hands
descended to clasp her buttocks.
    "Does that idea excite you?" she asked curiously.
    He admitted, "The conclusion does."
    "What conclusion?"
    "That you're a woman who has deliberately devoted her life to sex."
    "Isn't that true of any whore?"
    "It's hard to tell if the pros enjoy it.  But you do.  That's your
whole reason."
    "Yes.  But why does that excite you?"
    "Because a little of that devotion includes me."
    She smiled and clasped him tighter until they came.



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