Bobby woke at 6 A.M. As his mind travelled back over the things he did yesterday, he didn’t know whether to feel guilt or elation. Everyone in his party was certainly much more ... liberal. And he had gotten more sex than he would ever have BELIEVED!—HELL, he wasn’t a VIRGIN anymore! Not by a LONG shot! But ... something had obviously been done to all of them—the changes in them were just too extreme. Had he ... taken advantage of them ... during their weakness? Of their inability to control their urges?
A growling sound from his abdomen reminded him that he’d had nothing to eat since he waited in the lobby yesterday before his mother picked him up.
Quietly—so as not to wake up this rowdy bunch!—he dressed and headed out into the hallway
There was a restaurant off the lobby of the hotel, and Bobby figured he’d get something to eat and think through what he should do now, before their 10:00 A.M. flight back home.
When he rounded the corner to the hallway with the elevator, he saw Mrs McCloud, the perky teacher that had persuaded Mrs Pittman to join the group, coming from the other direction, and he stiffened. If she were like the others ... what he needed right now was time to think things through, not more sex. His desire not to be distracted underlined, he continued towards the elevator and pressed the down button.
Mrs McCloud stood about four feet from him, also intent on using the elevator. “Hi, Bobby,” she said stiffly.
Bobby kept his eyes down—don’t make eye contact, and you may not set her off. “Hi, Mrs McCloud.”
Both waited in an awkward silence until the elevator arrived and Mrs McCloud stepped in and took the back left corner, then Bobby stepped in himself, staying in the opposite corner of the elevator.
“What ... uhm ... floor, Mrs McCloud?”
Joan McCloud stayed pressed back in her half of the elevator. “The lobby.”
Bobby pressed the button for the lobby, then pressed himself into his corner with the floor buttons, keeping his eyes downcast. Hopefully she would pick up on all the “no” signals he was sending.
“Bobby Keegan,” she said, causing him to startle, “If you press a button to halt this elevator, so help me, I will cut both your hands off before you can touch me!”
Bobby looked up, confused. Where were her aggressive demands for sex? That sounded almost like ... like she was normal!
She stood in her corner glaring at him.
Bobby stepped slightly from his corner, realizing that he had had his back pressed lightly against the buttons in his nervousness, which was probably what she mistook for a suspicious action on his part.
“No ... I ... ehr ...”
“Bobby, you just stay in that corner and I’ll stay in this one, and we’ll both be okay.”
Bobby smiled with victory! She was ... acting normally!
“Mrs McCloud, do you mean—”
“Bobby,” she said tightly, “You just keep your distance!”
“No! I mean, yes! I will! But you’re ... you’re normal!”
Mrs McCloud did a double take. “What ... do you mean?”
“You’re normal, Mrs McCloud! I mean, aren’t you?”
“Normal how?” She started to breath naturally herself.
“Everyone else has been rutting around like animals in heat! And I’ve ... I’ve ... do you want to have sex now?”
“No!” she re-stiffened.
“Good! Great! Finally! Someone! Everyone else has become raging sexaholics! And you’re NORMAL!”
“Are you saying you are too, Bobby?”
“Oh, Lord ...” she gave a trembly sigh. “I wasn’t sure if anyone was left.”
The elevator opened, and they both stepped off.
“May I ... may I have breakfast with you, Mrs McCloud?”
“As long as you stay normal.”
“Yes! We can talk. And compare notes. And just ... talk! Something awful has happened here!”
The pair walked to the restaurant. Mrs McCloud just had a coffee, while Bobby ordered two danish and an orange juice. Then they made their way to a table.
“It’s so good to find someone that’s not a raving sex-maniac!”
“Oh, Bobby, you have no idea. Patricia came back to the room with some guy Saturday night, and they started ... just ... DOING it ... right there IN FRONT OF ME! I stormed out, and when I came back later, I made sure he was gone! But then ... but then she started getting fresh WITH ME!”
“She ... ‘got fresh’ with me, too, yesterday.” Bobby’s mind, though, saw Mrs Pittman kissing Mrs McCloud—Mrs McCloud resisting at first, but then relenting as she got turned on. No—it was a horrible thing that was happening, and he shouldn’t be toying with the idea of liking it!
“Then your father, Bobby! He came banging on the door last night saying that your mother threw him out of the hotel room.” Mrs McCloud didn’t notice Bobby’s blush that he was the cause of that. “Patricia started putting on a pregnant strip dance for him. I grabbed my things to leave, but he wouldn’t stop groping me!”
“He didn’t—" Bobby swallowed hard, realizing how far this horrible situation could get out of hand. “He didn’t ... rape you ... did he?”
“No, but he’s going to have testicles swelled to the size of grapefruits from the kick I landed to his groin. I took off out of there and found a closet on the top floor of the hotel. I spent the night in there, but still I heard people squealing, playing sex games in the hall. I didn’t come downstairs until I snuck in the room to pick up my purse this morning. Then I bumped into you.”
“You said it. What’s gotten into everyone?”
“I don’t know. My experiences haven’t been much better than yours. The first time I noticed someone acting strange was Kim, I guess, Friday night.”
“What was she doing?”
“She had gone downstairs to play some of the electronic games. I woke up about two o’clock and realized she still wasn’t back yet. I wandered downstairs and saw her sitting with some guy, who groped her ass and breasts while she played.”
“What are you thinking?”
“Let’s say they drugged her and did something to her. That doesn’t give them much time. We got here at 9:30 P.M., and she was already starting to be affected by 2:00 A.M.”
“No, that’s not much time. What about Mrs Pittman? You said she was acting weird by Saturday night. What did she do Saturday afternoon? Was she gone long enough that they could have gotten to her?”
“She was gone a few hours, so I guess so. She went down to play some of the games too.”
They both looked at each other.
“Do you think it’s the games themselves?” Bobby asked. “Re-programming them? Or do you think they just nab the victims out of the game area?”
“Well, we don’t know for sure that it IS the games. We’re drawing conclusions from just two cases.”
“It’s gotta be the games. Remember Friday night when we got here? The guy at the counter telling us to play the games while the win ratio was still good?”
“Why else would anyone share something like that? Unless he WANTED us to play those games!”
“I don’t know, Bobby.”
“Now the next question. How do we reverse it?”
“Maybe it will reverse itself. Maybe it’s just something that lasts while we’re physically here, inside this hotel.”
“And if it’s not?”
“I don’t know, Bobby.”
“I think we should confront the casino manager with it.”
“Yeah—and get OUR brains wiped too! No, thank you, Bobby!”
“But we HAVE to. We can’t let Kim and Mom and Mrs Pittman stay like this the rest of their lives! We HAVE to do something. And the only people that know what was done to them are right here in this hotel.”
Mrs McCloud just looked at him, feeling the pull between doing what was right—helping their friends and family—and doing what was in her own best interest for survival. And when she tallied the points for both at the bottom—well, screw what was right. Patricia Pittman wasn’t THAT good of a friend anyway! “Bobby, no. We get out of here. We tell the police. Let THEM handle it. They get PAID to be brave.”
“Sure! And let my mother and sister and father get prodded and dissected by curious scientists and maybe stay brainwashed like this for the rest of their LIVES! No! I am going to do what’s RIGHT!”
“Bobby, I am going to the police. It is simply foolish to—”
“What if it was YOU?! Hungh?! What if YOU couldn’t think past the next cock?! Past your next fuck?! Wouldn’t you want them to at least TRY to save you?! Or what if it was your HUSBAND?! Or your MOTHER?! I CAN’T just sit back and do NOTHING! I CAN’T just LEAVE them this way!”
“Bobby—" she sighed. “The—Bobby, there MAY be nothing we CAN do. It may be that—”
“I CAN’T believe that! Look. We—we at least try. We bluff. We tell them we have email on a hidden server set to release to fifty major newspapers in the country, detailing everything we’ve found out, detailing the known victims.”
“Wait. And we tell them that if they fix my family back, we’ll kill the email and forget about it—we don’t want to be looking over our shoulders for their hitmen the rest of our lives. That makes sense. If we get my family back, we part ways and leave them alone. But I just want my family back!”
“Bobby,” she shook her head.
“And YOU! You’re my teacher. You’re supposed to help me learn what’s right! Not just slink away like a coward to save your own skin! What would your HUSBAND think if he knew you just abandoned me and my family? That you just—oh, hell. I don’t care. Leave if you want to. But I’m at least going to try!”
Actually ... her husband was a firefighter. And she guessed it did kind of betray what he stood for if she ... if she just walked out and left this poor, scared boy alone.
“What ...,” she sighed, “What do you have in mind?”
God, she hoped she didn’t get brain-wiped.
Bobby and Mrs McCloud sat in the small office while two big men dressed in black stood just outside the door. Mrs McCloud was trying to conrol her breathing while her nerves got the best of her. She had the profoundly sinking feeling that she and Bobby were in way over their heads.
The other door, to the left of the desk, opened and a partially bald, partially graying man stepped in. Smiling, he extended his hand. “Hi, I’m Frank Watkins, manager of this hotel and casino. And you are—”
“It doesn’t matter who we are,” Bobby told him stiffly. “What matters is what we can do to you if we are unable to reach an agreement.”
Frank sat in his chair behind his desk and sighed, steepling his fingers. “Yes, yes. Bruno has already briefed me on your threats. A thousand newspapers. Thousands of emails. Multiple hidden servers with rollover coverage capabilities. Et cetera, et cetera. And I’ll let you know, I’m trembling in my shoes right about now. Before we continue, though, just what is it that you believe I have done?”
Bobby tsked. “Where should we start? Deprived people of their rights. Illegally detained and coerced people. Forcing—”
Frank waved his hand. “Yes, yes, lots of very pretty political rhetoric. But just what the fuck is it that you think I’ve done to your family and friends?”
“You’ve brainwashed them, you sonofabitch! You’ve turned them into sex-obsessed maniacs!”
“I see. It would be a pretty powerful feat if I could do such a thing. How exactly do you think I pulled off this miracle of coercion?”
“We’re not sure of the precise details of the mechanics,” Mrs McCloud spoke up. “But we have a few theories. The victims seem to have spent a period of time playing your electronic gambling games. Particularly those in the Avacado Room.”
“Hmmm, Princess. Interesting theory. And did you put all this complicated conspiracy idea together in your own sweet little head?”
Mrs McCloud scowled but refused to be baited. “We have a series of facts. We’ve tentatively speculated on how you’ve accomplished these crimes. At this point, we can either come to a deal, or we can let the police and FBI try their hand at speculating while you’re behind bars.”
“Now, listen here, you two little PUNKS.” Frank stood and started wagging his index finger. “You don’ wanna FUCK with me!”
“People know we’re here!” Bobby jumped in, alarmed. “If we don’t show up at an appointed time, they’ll go—”
“—to the police and the papers,” Frank completed his sentence.
“And there are all those emails—”
“—all set to go if you don’t check in. Yes, I know. You’ve already informed me. Whaddya think? I’m gonna set cement around your feet, then take you out swimming? This is the NEW family, and we fight on TODAY’S battlefield.”
The three stared at each other for several seconds.
“What ... ehr ... battlefield would that be?” Mrs McCloud finally asked.
Frank sat back and kicked his feet up on the desk. “I got a FLEET of lawyers on retainer, all snarling and drooling to sue your asses on everything from slander to extortion. You wanna take ME on? How many times’re you ready to bend over for my battalion of lawyers?
“You got houses? They’re mine. You got estate? It’s mine. You got cars? I’ll own ‘em. You got bank accounts? I’ll drain every last penny out of ‘em. You got ....
Mrs McCloud found her mind wandering while Mr Watkins went on ad nauseum with the consequences of “fucking” with him. But she suddenly snapped back to reality, startled at where her mind had drifted. Christ! What was THAT?!
Frank was still enumerating dire consequences. She self-consciously adjusted her seat in her chair and looked at Bobby. He appeared to be distracted, mind drifting too, when his eyes suddenly flared wide. He blinked, sat up straight in his chair, then cast a glance at Mrs McCloud, looking guilty over something.
A half minute later, Frank finished his last sentence—a long one involving being “popped” and burning in hell, where his cousins would see to it that they got placed in the hottest pits—straining the last gasp of air out of his lungs to do so, then he sucked in a lungfull. “So, in summary: do you two punks still want to try to take me on?” He glared at each of them, both of whom shifted guiltily in their chairs.
“I just want my family back,” Bobby said finally. “I want them back to normal. That’s all I want. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”
“Aaaww, kid ... you’ve touched me.” Frank tapped his fist to his chest twice. “You’ve really touched me. You just want a home, dontcha? And it’s good to stand up for family. It’s the right thing to do. Ya know ... you remind me of myself at your age. And I’ll give you this ... it took BALLS to come in here, threatening me, threatening to destroy my business and my way of life, to do whatever it takes to get your family back, even if it costs ME everything.” Was he really wiping a tear from his eye? “Tell ya what, kid. You win. I can’t mistreat somethin’ ... somethin’ this NOBLE!” He stood and walked to the door. “You two stay here. I’m gonna go make things right.” Then he was gone.
“Do you trust him?” Bobby asked finally.
“Not even as much as a child molester in a pre-school.”
They waited in silence several moments.
“If you smell anything funny or feel sleepy, say something. We’ll break down the door if they try to gas us,” he said with all the confidence of an eighteen-year-old.
It COULD be ... it could be that Mr Watkins wouldn’t HAVE to .... “Bobby ... are you sure that you didn’t play any of those casino games?”
Bobby’s eyes snapped to her. “I’m ... POSITIVE. Why? You didn’t ... did you?”
“No! No ... of course not.” But ... how could she tell him that her mind had drifted while Mr Watkins droned on? How could she tell him that she ... SAW herself standing beside one of those gaming tables. Naked, in just high heels. Bent over at the waist. Pushing her ass back against a man sliding a vibrator in and out of her pussy. Her swollen ... throbbing ... SOAKED pussy. Making little squealing noises and gasps of pleasure. Around the cock stuffed in her mouth.
She shivered with a weird mix of excitement, anticipation, revulsion and horror. How could she tell him all that?!
How could she tell him that it ... almost ... seemed more like a memory than a fantasy?
“It’s just that,” she looked at him, seeking confidence in his eyes, seeking assurance that they were still in control. At least in control of themselves. “You said you went down and saw Kim getting groped and fondled by some guy while she played those games.”
“Well ... you’re not the type of boy to just ... abandon your sister while she’s being taken advantage of.”
“No ...,” he said, barely breathing. “I wouldn’t do that ....”
“So ... what happened next?”
Bobby swallowed hard. She was going someplace bad. “What ... what do you mean?”
“Bobby, after you saw her being ... molested ... you didn’t ... just go back upstairs to bed ... did you?”
What DID he do after he saw Kim Friday night? What had happened next?
Bobby was the coyote, and he had just chased the roadrunner off a cliff and out into the middle of the air. And he really ... really! ... REALLY! did not want ot look down. Because if he ... DID look down, he wouldn’t be able to magically stay up in the air anymore. He’d ... meet the ground ... hard ....
How could he tell her that while Mr Watkins had droned on earlier, while he and Mrs McCloud were in this dire situation with their lives and even their minds at catastrophic risk—how could he tell her that her couldn’t get his mind to stop thinking how good her pretty red lips would feel wrapped tightly around his engorged dick?! How could he tell her that the fantasy was so clear that it almost seemed ... real?!
“I don’t ... I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Bobby ... if one of us has been ... compromised ... we need to—”
“I don’t want to TALK about it! He’s going upstairs to get my FAMILY! And EVERYTHING’S going to be OKAY!”
“If you ... say so ....”
Grant and Guido, a combined twelve and a half feet of muscle dressed in dark shirts and dark suits, strolled up the hallway to fetch a hotel patron for Mr Watkins.
“Which room d’ya think she’s in?”
“I don’t know. We’ll start with her room, then her daughter’s, then the boy’s girlfriend’s, and so on.”
“Ah, you’re not any more fun than Bruno. D’ya think she’s with a guy or a girl, or just doin’ herself?”
“We’ll find out when we get there.”
Guido shrugged and started whistling as they walked. Well, at least the whistling stopped his chatter, Grant thought.
They reached Mr and Mrs Keegan’s hotel room, and Grant rapped on the door.
A pretty blonde, nude except for heels, answered the door. “Keegan Cathouse,” she smiled. “Rowrrrr!”
“Mrs Keegan?” Grant asked.
“No, I’m Annie Lay-TON, and you’re welcome to lay ME!”
“Thank you. Perhaps after work hours, ma’am. Is Mrs Keegan in?”
“Sure, right this way.” She led them up the interior hallway, swaying her hips. “Two more pricks for the party!” she announced to the room occupants.
Grant and Guido stepped around the corner. On one bed was a dark-haired woman on her hands and knees, her face pressed ot the mattress, a thin pink dildo partially protruding from her asshole, obviously Mrs Keegan. Unfortunately, on the other bed, in the same pose with the same pink paraphenalia protruding from the same place, was Mr Keegan.
With a chuckle, Guido elbowed Grant and pointed at the mister.
“Yeah, hush.” He turned to the lady in the bed. “Mrs Keegan?”
She turned her head to look at them, but held her pose, ass and pink dildo tip high in the air. “Yes?”
“Ma’am, the hotel and casino manager requests a few minutes of your time, if you’ll come with us.”
Denise Keegan’s brow furrowed. “You?” She crawled off the bed and stood, the neon pink dildo tip dancing around as her ass moved.
“Follow the bouncing pink ball,” Guido muttered.
Mrs Keegan frowned at Grant. “You are, aren’t you?!”
“You’re that savage that hefted me over his shoulder like a slab of meat, then paraded me back through the crowd, helpless, to dump me unceremoniously on my table! In front of this BITCH!” She gestured toward Annie.
“Ma’am, if I did that, it was nothing personal. Just my job.”
“You BRUTE! I have NEVER been so SHAMED in my LIFE!”
“I apologize, ma’am. But Mr Watkins would still appreciate—”
“Wanna do it AGAIN?!” she grinned.
“I don’t think I’ve EVER been so humiliated—OR so WET!—as that night you lugged me around like some sex doll that you could just USE! Anytime you WANTED! And I was HELPLESS to STOP you!”
Oh, Lord. Why did he always get the weird ones?
“Sex doll! Way to go, Grant!”
“Shut up, Guido. Ma’am, if you could just come with us—”
“Nooooo ... I think you’re gonna have to CUFF me and THROW my ass over your shoulder again, you big slab of muscle!”
“Hey, I’m a pretty big slab too, lady.”
“Shut up, Guido. Ma’am, let’s just be reasonable ....”
“Noooo,” she giggled and reached for his crotch, “Unless you cuff me, I’m gonna grab your dick and pull on it until you squirt me in the face.”
Grant successfully danced back out of the way of her hand. “Ma’am, please.”
“Oh, come on,” she said, reaching again. “A little girl like me doesn’t scare a big tuff guy like you, do I?”
Guido got a grip on her wrists from behind and slipped the cuffs off his belt and onto her. She didn’t struggle much.
“Ooooh ... you’ve GOT me! Wanna cop a feel while there’s nothing I can do to stop you? G’head. Take advantage of me,” she smiled.
“Guido!” Grant warned as the other man’s hand started to move towards her chest. Guido tsked and let his hand drop.
“Now, throw me over your shoulder!” she grinned.
Grant sighed. “Pull that cover off the bed and wrap it around her so she’s presentable.”
“Hey! I AM presentable!” She bounced her boobies.
“Just do it,” Grant said when Guido looked at him and shrugged.
“And, here, take THIS out!” Grant removed the pink tube from her ass.
“Hey! You’re supposed to kiss me before you do that!” she muttered.
Guido stripped the top cover off and wrapped it around the woman.
Sighing again, Grant hefted her over and held her legs to his chest.
“Oh, good!” Denise giggled, her hands bound behind her back.
“Wait, wait. She wouldn’t feel right without this,” Annie said.
“Annie! Don’t you DARE! You bitch!”
Annie lifted the bed cover to expose Denise’s ass. WHACK! “What was that, Denise?”
“What was that?”
“I said ... don’t make me too wet ... people will be able to smell me in the halls.”
Grant and Guido stepped out of the room and carried the humiliated woman to the elevator.
“I think I just peed myself.”
Bobby raised his brows. “I’m sorry?”
“Oh, Bobby, I’m so nervous, I think I just pissed myself! I’m all wet between my legs.”
“Uhm ... can I get you a towel? Or something?”
“Noooo! I just made a mess in my crotch! I can’t BELIEVE—”
“You’re acting strange.”
“No, I’m not. ANYONE would be upset if they just pissed on their own panties. Especially if she were still IN them at the time.”
“Uhm ... most people wouldn’t announce their accident.”
“Well, that’s the cool part. It wasn’t an accident. I very consciously acknowledged that I’m feeling stressed and thought I might feel better with the sensation of urine passing through my urethra.”
“And ... DID you?”
“You’re right ... you’re not acting strange. You’re acting bizarre.”
Mrs McCloud stood, unzipped her skirt and let it drop to the floor. “Look, Bobby! The front of my panties are SOAKED! They’re TRANSPARENT!”
“Uhm ... Mrs McCloud ... remember what you said ... if one of us has been compromised?”
“Well, I’VE been compromised! The front of my skirt has a big, wet spot! Be a gentleman and give me your pants, Bobby.”
“Uhm, I’m sorry. I can’t do tha—”
“Bobby! Give me your goddam PANTS!”
“I can’t! You just need to—”
Mrs McCloud stuck her thumbs in her waistband and thrust her pelvis forward. “Bobby, give me your pants! Or I’ll pee on YOU!”
“Mrs McCloud! Don’t!”
“I’ll DO it! I WILL! Give me your pants!”
Bobby stood, unzipped and yanked his pants off. “You WANT them?!” he held them out angrilly. “You WANT them?!”
The door opened, and Frank unsuspectingly stepped in, then took in the unusual scene before him.
Several moments creeped by tensely. They were slightly less comfortable than the U.S. president trying to think how to explain that he just set his scrabble game down on the red button and unleashed thermonuclear apocalypse upon the world.
“Ahem,” Mrs McCloud took her seat, crossed her legs and forced a pleasant smile.
“Ahem,” Bobby let his pants drop to the floor and took his seat.
Frank shook his head, trying to cast out that vision, and sat.
Several more moments passed as each tried to think of a way to continue after something like that.
“Are you returning this boy’s family to him now?” Mrs McCloud asked finally.
Frank looked at her, then deliberately shifted his gaze to Bobby without answering her. “Y’know, son, this isn’t all a bad thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“Heeey,” Frank chuckled. “How many times have you gotten laid this weekend?”
“He doesn’t NEED your help ‘getting laid’! He already knows more about mature adult relationships than you EVER will!”
Frank glanced at her with a look of scorn, then looked back to Bobby, again without a word to her. “Is that what you want, Bobby? A mature adult relationship? Or would you rather have a slutty little fuck-kitten?”
“Bobby! Tell him! Tell him that you want someone to RELATE TO! Someone to have INTELLIGENT DISCUSSIONS WITH! TELL him!”
Frank gave a broad grin. “She wouldn’t make a bad fuck-kitten, would she? If we could get her fixed, I mean. De-clawed. Sexed up.”
Bobby gave a guilty grin.
“You’ve had fantasies about this one, haven’t you, son?”
“Stop TALKING about me like I wasn’t HERE!”
“Yeah,” Bobby gave a shy smile.
“Tell me about them.”
“Well ... she’s in the front of the class. You know, naked. And she’s teaching us about the parts of the body. Pointing them out ... on herself.”
“And then ... she calls me up to the front of the room. To ... you know ... demonstrate how a man screws a woman.”
“Good fantasy, kid. But I’ll bet she mewls like a kitten in your fantasy instead of screeching like this.”
“I do NOT SCREECH!”
Bobby just nodded to Frank.
“You STOP corrupting this boy with your PERVERSIONS! You BASTARD!”
Frank looked at her and spoke to her for the first time since re-entering the room. “Do I intimidate you, princess?”
“YOU! ARE! A! SLEAZY! CORRUPTOR!”
“Princess, princess. You’re gonna pop a blood vessel. Calm down.”
“Do NOT tell me to CALM DOWN!”
“Oooh ... princess, do you need a pacifier to suck on?” He stood and unzipped.
“YOU—! STOP! LEAVE ME ALONE!”
Frank unbelted and let his pants drop.
Mrs McCloud swallowed hard and dropped her volume. “You ... you can ... NOT ... control me ....”
“Really? Can’t I?” Frank asked, using his fingers to sway his erection from side to side enticingly.
Mrs McCloud felt torn, felt like she had climbed halfway up a cliff face. At the bottom of the cliff arose Frank’s erection. At the top of the cliff stood her self-will. Did she let go, to fall and be impaled on Frank’s cock? Or did she force herself to climb, to assert her will, to declare her independence from this sleazy turd? Her arms were SOOOOOOO tired, though.
At the top of the cliff, she realized, stood her husband too. A fireman. A noble saver of lives. Drawing on the strength of what he stood for, and on their love for each other, she forced one hand up to a higher handhold. Then up another. And another. Then another.
Her husband, her partner, glowed at the top, with love for her, with RESPECT for her. How could she betray that respect?! Hand after hand, she made her way up the cliff face.
And the farther she went, the easier it became. Independence, once asserted, strengthens itself! The more she declared herself to be the master of her fate, the more it became true!
Before she knew it, she was at the top of the cliff, and her husband reached his hand down, to greet her, to congratulate her, to raise her up the last three feet. She clasped it, and he lifted her up, to stand beside him at the crest.
I defy you, she declared out from the cliff. I am the master of my fate! I control my own decisions!
A faint smile appeared at the corners of her mouth, her will, her independence reinforced now with self-knowledge. She stood and leaned forward over the table between them to jab her finger in Frank’s face.
“You ... cannot control me ... little man,” she smiled to Frank. “I have overcome my fear of you, I have defeated—”
“Aaaawww, fuck it!” Bobby muttered.
Mrs McCloud felt him yank the crotch of her panties aside, then insert his shaft inside her as he bent her over further at the waist.
“Bobby! NO!” she gasped. “You’ll MELT my MIND!”
“I’m ... so ... sorry ... Mrs McCloud,” he gasped slowly, still buried inside her.
“Please, Bobby ... carefully pull out ... I can’t—”
“Sorry, Mrs McCloud.”
“Bobby, very carefully! Pull out now!”
Pump ... pump ....
“OHGOD, Bobby! Don’t!”
“Aahh, screw it!” Pump, pump, pump, pump, pump! “Your ass (pump, pump) is just BEGGING (pump, pump, pump) for a good FUCKING, Mrs McCloud!”
“Oh, Bobby! ... Can’t ... think straight ... my pussy ....” She was pressing her twat back hard against the invader, pressing it in deeper, pressing it into her mind. Her brain relaxed and let itself swell with blood and lust. “My pussy ... RULES me! ....”
“Just like a woman,” Frank muttered.
“Ooooohh ... FUCK ME ....” she moaned. Her husband at the top of the cliff looked stunned and betrayed as she took a short sprint and leapt off the cliff to descend and impale on that ... precious ... cock at the bottom.
Who needed a mind?! Who needed self-determination and a will?! She was HORNY! She just needed to get FUCKED!
That’s all she needed in this world ... to get pumped like a sex-doll.
And Bobby was providing that service, completing her.
“Well,” Frank sighed. “I guess you’re right, princess. I can’t ... control ... you.”
“Nnnngg! Fuuuuuck meeeeeee!” she whined to Bobby and clawed at the table.
Frank stood and walked around to the side of the table, wagging his erection in front of him, and Joan McCloud slurped it in as soon as it was within range.
“Yeah ... you’re a modern independent fuck-kitten.”
“Mmmmphmmmmrgmmm!” she mumbled, muffled on a rod.
Soon enough, Bobby sprayed baby-seed all over the fields of Mrs McCloud’s womb.
Exhausted, he pulled out and sank into a chair as Mrs McCloud stayed splayed and collapsed over the side of the table. “You monster ...,” he sighed. “What have you DONE to us?”
“Oh ... just a few minor improvements.”
“Improvements?! You sick fuck! These are people’s LIVES you’re fucking around with here!”
“Bobby,” his mother breathed from behind him. “Calm down.”
He spun around at the sound of her gentle, soothing voice.
She stood there in only high heels, her dark pussy still frosted from yesterday, her hand still on the handle of the door she just opened. “There’s no need to get upset. Didn’t you enjoy me last night?”
“Mom! I’m not even going to ANSWER that, because it was WRONG! You’re not acting like you’re SUPPOSED to!”
Denise Keegan lifted her hair up, then let it fall back to her shoulders. “Bobby, I feel so much better than before. I LIKE me this way!” A light danced around in her eyes as she spoke. “I’ve been FIXED! I used to be an obsessed, tight-assed harping frigid cunt, but now I’m your good time girl. I’m YOUR good time girl, Bobby!” She began pulling on her own boobs. “It’s SO much free-er, not having to be obsessed with all the things that you CAN’T do. I’m HOT now, Bobby, HOT and READY! I’m HOT for your COCK, son! I will SPREAD for you! You certainly weren’t too shy to shove it up me and choke my pussy on it last night!”
Bobby turned back to Frank. “You’ve MESSED her UP! You PUT her STRAIGHT now! You DO it! I’ve got servers ... emails ... newspapers ... FBI ....
Frank sighed. “Ya try to give a little sumthin’ back to the world ....” He pulled open a drawer and took a strap-on dildo from it. “I’m disappointed in you, lad. And now I’m going to have to demonstrate something to you that I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to.” He tossed the sex tool to Bobby’s mother.
“Ooooh!” Denise smiled, catching it. As she began belting it on, she smiled at Bobby. “Mmmmm, Mommy wants to play with her little boy’s sphincter ....”
Bobby felt his anus twitch and tingle. “GAH! Don’t!” he yelled to Frank.
“What’s scarier, boy? The fact that Momma’s ready to ram her dick up your ass? Or the fact that you’re ready to beg her to do you?”
“DON’T!” Bobby cried. “DON’T make me LIKE that!”
“What about those newspapers? And the FBI?”
“FUCK them!” Bobby screamed. He was starting to want to get rammed so bad that he wasn’t sure he could stop himself.
“But all those emails. All set to fire if you didn’t reset the restraining program in ... oh, my, only twenty minutes.”
“It was BULLSHIT! I was BLUFFING! PLEASE don’t make me LIKE that!”
Frank gave a bitter smile, sincerely regretting that he’d even needed to draw this gun and wave it around like this. He walked around the table and lightly whacked the ass of Mrs McCloud, who was still drifting through a time and space of ecstasy, sated beyond her wildest dreams. “C’mon, sweetie,” he told her. “Time to take it up the poop chute for the good of the country.”
“Nnnngh ...,” she stirred.
“C’mon, sugar tits. It’s for the good of everyone involved.”
“PLEASE!” Bobby gasped, having run to the far side of the table, fleeing his mother’s prick. But he didn’t know how much longer he could not WANT it.
Frank got Mrs McCloud to a standing position and moved her into the path of Mrs Keegan when she came around the table. The cock slid neatly up the teacher’s ass.
“Oooooh!” She pressed back against the delightful visitor to her rectum. “FUCK me, Denise! FUCK my ASS!”
“You see?” Frank turned to Bobby. “It really is a lot better for them this way. They’re not so confused. They don’t have to always be doing things that are unnatural to them, like keeping their knees glued together.”
Bobby was just sighing, thankful that those yearning sensations had stopped coming from his sphincter!
“Now, am I ever going to have any more trouble from you, boy?”
“Like I said, this is my way of helping evolution along a little bit, my way of bringing a little beauty, a little comfort, into the world. For both genders. And needless to say, if you ever cross me, you will slut your ass in public restrooms for the rest of your life. That training is already implanted in you. And there’s not a soul on this planet that will be able to put you straight again if it comes to that.”
“Don’t—don’t worry. But ... how? How did you get to Mrs McCloud? And ... me?”
“We’re still experimenting with which programming produces the most amenable results. You and young Mrs McCloud there—" Joan gave a particularly good gasp on cue as Denise Keegan sank in especially deep “—got the programming with special cues. She went down Friday night but just didn’t remember it. You don’t remember much after seeing your sister getting felt up Friday night because you were being trained as well.”
“Just don’t ever make me—”
“Well, you just be a good boy and don’t get too enthusiastic about leaking this to the press before we’re ready. Not that you could anyway. If you start to speak—even figuratively, as when composing an email—you will get the irresistable craving to suck a man’s—”
“I get it. I get it. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“And when I complete my little project, you and every other man in the world will be getting more pussy than they ever dreamed of.”
“I believe you. I already have.”
“And they LIKE it!” Frank smiled, gesturing at the women. “They LOVE being this way.”
“Bobby just looked at him.
“Okay,” Frank clapped his hands. “Twat swap!” He laid his hand on Mrs Keegan’s shoulder, “Denise, pull out of Joan.”
“Unnnngh?!” Joan grunted, disatisfied.
“Get that ugly pecker off yourself, Denise,” Frank said, and she unbelted and threw it across the room. “Bobby, come over here and reaffirm that your heterosexuality is still intact, boy. Which one do you want?”
“Mrs McCloud is nice, but I’d like to do my mom.”
“Should I start calling you ‘Oeddy’?”
Bobby ignored that and inserted into his mother, eliciting a blissful moan from her.
“Oh, Bobby! Don’t you just LOVE it?” she sighed as he pistoned her.
“Do you like the new me, honey?”
“Me too ....”
The Mile High Club Convention Lets Out
“But I don’t WAAAAAAAANT to sit behind the rest of the group!” Jim Keegan whined. “I wanna sit closer so I can watche Denise let herself get groped by Annie!”
Denise tsked. “Jim, it’s not like you can DO anything. Your balls are still the size of grapefruits and purple.” From Mrs McCloud’s defensive kick Sunday night.
“I know, but I still wanna watch!”
Annie and Denise both sighed.
“I’ll swap with you,” Michelle finally said.
“Yeah. Maybe I’ll be sitting with two hunky strangers I can hump.”
“Thank you, Michelle. I’ll give you a ‘thank you’ fuck as soon as ... the equipment ... starts working correctly again.”
“That’s ... all right, Mr Keegan. You don’t have to,” Michelle giggled. “Although I might take a strap-on to your ass later if that’s okay.”
“Uhm ... let’s discuss that some other time,” Jim deferred.
They walked up to the lady checking boarding passes, Jim’s walk looking a lot like a cowboy that just got down off his horse. But at least it kept his swollen testicles from grinding against each other and triggering a vomit reflex.
She examined their passes and permitted them to board.
They found their cluster of seats, Michelle swapping with Jim. Mrs Pittman removed her trenchcoat to reveal that she had worn a hot pink string bikini and candy pink heels underneath. She got the nice young man across the aisle to help her put it in the overhead compartment, then thanked him by taking his hands and rubbing them all over her belly, including two discreet boobie-rubs.
The rest of the plane boarded, and the stewardesses ran through their safety spiel. Afterwards, a pretty stewardess with coffee-and-milk colored skin stopped by Mrs Pittman, whose belly looked like a huge, flesh-colored orb. “Uhm ... can I get you a blanket to ... uhm ... cover that thing? Ma’am?”
Mrs Pittman read the stewardess’s name tag. “Jolanda, I’m proud of my motherly figure,” she beamed, then lowered her voice. “And just because a woman gets knocked up DOESN’T mean that she stops having sexual needs.” Grin and wink.
“Ehr ... yes, ma’am.” The stewardess briskly walked away, shaking her head.
The stewardesses made their pass up the aisles, verifying that everyone had their lap belts on, then the plane taxied and took off. Once at altitude, the pilot turned off the seatbelt sign and the stewardesses began the meal prep.
Kim and Bobby were both leaned back with their eyes closed while Jim sat between them, giggling. Since his own peter was out of commission until his balls grew several sizes smaller, he decided to name the middle finger of his left hand Sneaky Pete. He found that marvelously droll—Sneaky Pete! His left middle finger! Ha!
Flicking his eyes furtively to the left and right, he kept lookout while Sneaky Pete snuck over the left arm of his chair, then carefully, lightly tip-toed into his daughter’s lap.
He snickered quietly. Sneaky Pete was so ... sneaky!
“Are you doing that nonsense about ‘Sneaky Pete’ again?” Kim asked without opening her eyes.
“Daddy,” she opened her eyes and warned him. “If you get me turned on, I’m going to have you licking my asshole.”
“I can do that, sweetie,” he grinned inanely. “Me an’ Sneaky Pete—we LIKE my little girl’s anus.”
“Just so you know,” she closed her eyes again. “If you keep this up, you’ll be getting a brown tongue soon.”
Sneaky Pete kept it up, dancing a little sneakin’ dance on her crotch.
After a couple minutes, she opened her eyes again and stood. “I warned you. Get up. My anus wants to be licked and you and Sneaky Pete have been drafted.”
“Goody!” Jim snickered and stood. “Told ya we could rile her up,” he whispered to his left middle finger.
Bobby woke and stood to let them out of the row, then slid over to Kim’s window seat when he sat back down so he could turn around and talk to Mrs McCloud.
Joan McCloud had been acting a little odd since they arrived at the airport, Bobby had noticed. “What do you remember after we talked to the hotel manager, Joan?” he asked.
“Bobby! You shouldn’t be calling me by my first name! I’m your teacher.”
“I’ve had my cock up your ass, Joan. I’d say we’re on a first name basis.”
“Bobby!” she gasped. “How DARE you speak like that!”
“How much do you remember?”
“I ... uhm ... not much. I remember we went down and contronted him. And then I don’t really remember any specific events after that. I just remember feeling really good—sort of like just a pleasurable haze.”
“Do you remember my mother joining us in our ‘discussion’ with Mr Watkins?”
“No ... not really. Is that a problem?”
“I really don’t think so. Does it bother you?”
“No ... no, but ... but ....” She pointed past him. “Bobby!” she whispered, “Your MOTHER is KISSING your father’s SECRETARY!”
Bobby turned his head to look. “NOt only that, Mrs McCloud, but ... wait for it ... wait for it ... yes! There’s the tongue!”
“Bobby! They are!”
He looked back at her, and she was staring at the other two women, fascinated.
“They really ARE! Just TONGUE-KISSING each other!”
“You wanna come sit with me so you can watch closer?”
“Y-yeah!” Mrs McCloud stood and pushed her way past Tina and Mrs Pittman while Bobby stepped into the aisle. He let her in, then took his aisle seat again.
“They both look like they’re finding it quite ... uhm ... pleasurable,” she gasped.
Jolanda was swapping cold food packs for warm ones in the microwave and placing the warmed ones on the food cart.
She saw the bathroom door open and a woman emerge, followed by a man from the same stall. Both were glancing around naughtilly.
Jolanda shook her head. Every flight, you had one or two couples who thought they were really doing something: making the big trip back through the aisles to the bathroom, cramming two people into the same tiny compartment, wiggling—there wasn’t room for anything else in there at that point—until the maile ejaculated, then that silly little proud walk back to their seats. They might as well have packed themselves into the coat closet at home, for all the pleasure either one got out of it. But ... they DID it on a PLANE. Whoopdie-doo! She rolled her eyes in contempt. Now, if they did it while hanggliding, or while skydiving, then Jolanda might nod her head in respect. Or if they did it in a bathysphere—that would be something too. But the “mile high club” was nothing more than a bourgeoise facsimile of “daring”.
As she watched, the pair separated and went different ways. The woman sat beside a balding man and asked him something, for he took his earphones off and began speaking. Her bathroom-mate—literally, in this case!—continued walking forward, sat beside a fake blonde and gave her a long kiss.
Now that’s a little different twist, she thought as she loaded another set of packets in the microwave. ANONYMOUS sex on a plane. Gain one point for creativity, lose three for stupidity.
While she waited for these packets to heat up, she watched a man head for the bathroom. He seemd to be whispering into his left palm or something. He stepped into the bathroom, then a woman young enough to be his daughter stepped right in with him.
She shook her head. This was a rowdy planeload today. She had picked up on the excited, held-breath mood as they boarded, and now it was finding physical expression. This was the third couple to do the “screw in the bathroom of an airplane” thing already. Several men and women were kissing in their seats, some in full-fledged necking sessions. There were even a number of female-female pairs openly kissing—only tonguing, she corrected herself as she raised her eyebrows—each other.
All of which confirmed Jolanda’s mother’s truism: people are pigs. They’ll pork swine in the mud of a sty if you let them. She shook her head in disgust.
This was going to be one of those flights ....
Joan McCloud was leaned forward, butt off her seat, clinging to the back of the seat in front of her to look down over and see Mrs Keegan and Ms Layton not only kissing ... but ... but also ... PETTING! FEELING each other’s BREASTS!
The stewardess with short blonde hair, that had been so bubbly earlier, stopped by the two women. “Ladies! Ladies! I MUST ask you to STOP that! Please!”
The stewardess with the flaming read hair to halfway down her back walked by then, her blouse unbuttoned to her navel. “Get a hotel room, ladies!” she laughed and continued on.
The blonde—“Lori” her name tag read, and there was no doubt that she would dot the “i” with a smiley face—raised her eyebrows at her coworker’s dress and behavior, then turned back to the two woen. “You can’t DO that here!”
“But LOOK at these!” Annie flipped up the front of Denise’s shirt to reveal her naked breasts. “How can I NOT fondle these kittens?”
Lori swallowed hard.
“Tha- tha- Look at that!” Mrs McCloud stuttered, pointing to the scene in front of her.
“Please,” Lori sighed. “If you MUST, then take her to the bathroom and do it in private.” But she couldn’t take her eyes off Denise’s exposed flesh.
“And I’M not too shabby, either,” Annie yanked up the front of her own shirt, and two melons with excited nipples leapt into view.
“Please ...,” Lori whined. “You caaan’t ....”
“You can’t NOT!” Annie said, taking Lori’s hands and cupping her boobs with them.
Lori found herself involuntarilly squeezing, feeling them. The melons really were ... quite ... nice ... quite ... VERY ... nice ....
Annie’s hand eased up the front of the stewardess’s blouse to cup her in return. “And I kind of ... suspect ... yours are pretty nice too ...,” she breathed.
Lori swallowed very hard, still squeezing the offered boobs.
“Why don’t ... you ... SHOW ... them to me ....”
“No ...,” she whispered, barely audible. “I ... I ... couldn’t ....”
Slowly, breathing hard, feeling like her head would burst with excitement, Lori removed her hands form Annie’s lovejugs and began ... unbuttoning ... her own blouse ....
“Bobby! She’s gonna ... she’s gonna ...!” Mrs McCloud pointed.
Bobby slid his hand up the front of Mrs McCloud’s shirt and cupped her breast.
“Bobby!” she snapped, slapping his hand away. “WHAT do you think you are DOING, young man?! CONTROL yourself!”
Bobby unzipped his fly, causing Mrs McCloud to gasp. She felt a dull pressure at the seams of her world.
Bobby unbelted, then freed his erection to stand tall from his crotch.
“But I—but I—" Mrs McCloud felt a scarlet-colored version of herself unfold like an insect from an upper ceiling corner of her mind, then skitter down into the center of her consciousness and take control of the ship.
In horror, unable to stop it, she felt herself lick her lips, heard herself moan and whine as her head sank to her student’s lap, realized that she had taken his erection—her STUDENT’S COCK!—into her mouth, heard the little ecstatic mewlings she was making past her own lips, so tightly wrapped around his stiff dick as her head bobbed to pleasure him!
“That’s my girl,” he said to her and patted the back of her head.
She heard the throaty moan that she gave, so thrilled that she had pleased him!
Her tongue worked expertly on his peter.
“Gosh, Mrs McCloud, your husband’s going to just LOVE the new you! You’ll be the best wife EVER!”
The two women in the row ahead and the stewardess were watching them, their mouths hanging open.
“Please ... we ... can’t ...,” Lori stammered through her duty as stewardess and therefore protector of the passengers. “PLEASE, ma’am and sir ....”
Annie pulled her into her lap and shut her up with a tongue kiss.
“Oh, Bobby!” Denise said. “Momma’s SO hot! I am so HORNY! C’mon, I’m taking you to the bathroom with me!” She stood and pushed past the other two women and into the aisle.
“Uuuuuunnngh?!” Joan moaned as Bobby pulled her face off his cock.
He sloppily re-belted himself and stood. “We’re going to fuck in the john.”
“C’mon. I’ll do you next if you want.” He and his mother traipsed rapidly back to the bathroom.
Joan staggered up, delirious with lust, and followed them back.
Jolanda was beyond being worried—she was fearful! She had abandoned heating the food packets and was now holding a fire extinguisher in front of her, ready to club anyone that tried anything with her!
There had been a steady stream of couples to the bathrooms to join that damn silly club. As the lines backed up, they had distracted themselves with necking and then groping right there in public.
She was starting to see people in the cabin flash body parts. It was only a matter of time before they started just GOING AT IT in the aisles!
It was HORRIBLE! Like some DEMON had swept through and scarred their minds with LUST! Her imagination was conjuring up horrible fates—imprisoned in the belly of this plane forever, screwing and humping and porking! They’d be damned spirits like that old legend—only they’d be the “Flying Fuckman” instead!
Lori came totering back in only panties and heels—Lord, she had large areolas! Large ... nice, Jolanda admitted ... areolas—leading a young woman in similar dress by the hand.
“Jolanda!” she grinned, “Why aren’t you frolicking about too?”
“You stay away from me, Lori!”
“Oh, relax, sugar tits—I mean, brown sugar tits! I’m just getting this sweet girl a cherry to lose.”
That made no sense. “Why are you undressed like that?” Jolanda asked.
“Oh,” the blonde giggled. “I seem to have lost some items of clothing along the way, haven’t I?” She opened the cooler and retrieved a bottle of cherries. “You oughtta see Angela!”
Angela Sokofferees was the head stewardess on this flight. “’Storm warden’ Angela?”
“Stormed and watered upon,” the blonde giggled. Again, it made no sense to Jolanda. “Last I saw her, she’d let some of first class talk her into playing poker. They had her stripped down to panties and heels, and she was insisting they call her An-zhel-LEE.” She fished out a cherry and handed it to he young woman. “Here you go, sweetie. Now, you lose your cherry to the right person!” She teetered off, giggling.
The young woman—named Kim Keegan, had Jolanda known—hopped her butt up onto the counter in the stewardess station and spread her thighs to open her crotch.
“Hungh-ungh!” Jolanda warned her. “You can’t stay here. Only stewardesses are allowed back here.”
“Aaawww, c’mon. You’re not afraid of a little girl and her cherry, are you?”
“You just need to leave now.”
Suddenly, there was a crash behind her, and Jolanda turned around. A dark-haired woman with a blonde-frosted pubic hair was sprawled out on the floor, naked, having spilled out of the bathroom.
“Mom!” the gentleman still in the bathroom called to her. “Get back in here! I haven’t cum yet!”
The woman writhed on the floor. “Oh ... but BABY ... I’m STILL CUMMMMMING!”
The gentleman stepped out, his erection preceding him. “But Mom, I’m still loaded.”
Jolanda swallowed hard, unable to move her eyes from that ... erection!
“Ooooh,” the woman continued to writhe, “Sons! ... Their cocks ... don’t ... EVER ... go doooowwwwn ....”
A woman that had been standing outside the bathroom took his peter in her fist and slowly pulled on it a couple times. “I’ll ... I’ll take care of you, Bobby ....”
Jolanda felt like someone had pumped sex juices into her skull—her brain was laden with them. At the primitive base of her brain, signals of fear started up neural pathways—“something is WRONG! something HORRIBLE has happened to make these people act this way!”—but halfway up, those sex juices short-circuited the impulses, and the message that arrived at the top of the brain was simply, “Fuck! You HAVE to FUCK NOW!”
Jolanda set the fire extinguisher down and took a step towards that ... cock.
That pregnant bitch had waddled up, however, and pulled the woman’s fist off that magnificent prick. “Hands off, Joan!” She turned to the man. “Bobby, I don’t care if you ARE shy! I gotta get HUMPED! NOW!” She then sank to her hands and knees and wiggled her ass.
The man ... with his precious erection ... dropped to his knees and inserted into her, eliciting a squeal of joy from the pregnant woman.
But ... Jolanda somehow ... wanted ... needed ... that cock ... for herself ....
The boy’s mother was still writhing on the floor.
Jolanda shook her head. What was she thinking?! She wasn’t an animal in heat. She was a modern woman. Not some ... lustful ... whore ....
Jolanda turned around at the voice. The girl had her panties dangling from one shoe and was now bent over, looking at her own shaved pussy. She looked up and smiled sheepishly. “It slipped. And now it’s gone up inside.”
“What ... what’s that?”
“My cherry, silly. It slipped back up inside my twat. Could you ...,” she gave a sweet, pleading smile. “Could you feel back up in there and help me try to find it? Please?”
Her mind churning, thrashing, unsteady, she felt her body step forward.
“Oh, THANK you!”
Jolanda knelt, pressed her fingers in and felt around for the cherry.
Abstractly, Joland realized what an absurd scene this must make. A naked girl sitting on the counter, and her with her fingers stuck up the girl’s pussy, trying to help locate the lost cherry for her.
What would Jolanda’s mother think?!
“Hi, Annie!” the girl called, and Jolanda looked over her shoulder.
A pretty blonde stood there in just high heels. “Good choice, Kim. I just got done fingering the redhead until she screamed and came.”
Rachel, another stewardess, had long, flaming red hair. Had this woman just done something ... sexual ... with Rachel?!
“Mind if I check this one out?” Annie nodded toward Jolanda.
“Sure,” the girl shrugged, then Jolanda felt the blonde’s hands on her breasts ... and heard a moan ooze from her own throat.
“Nice ones,” the blonde pronounced and started unbuttoning Jolanda’s blouse.
“But ... no ... we ... can’t ....”
“Shshsh. Hush. Just listen to your pussy, sweetie. Follow your cunt.”
Joland found herself just breathing irregularly, trembling slightly, as the blonde finished unbuttoning and untucking her blouse.
“Okay if I do her, Kim?”
“Just let her ... find my cherry first ....”
Jolanda felt a light whack on her ass. “Hurry and find that cherry,” the blonde told her. “I have a surprise for you.” Then she left.
Behind Jolanda, the pregnant woman was squealing like a fucked pig.
Jolanda felt around inside the girl’s dripping snatch, finally withdrawing one very drenched cherry still attached to its wet stem.
“Oooh! You found it!” Kim chirped. “Let me see it.” She took the wet fruit and held it by its stem. “Okay, open up. Here’s your treat.”
Jolanda opened her mouth, and Kim laid the cherry on her tongue. Wrapping her lips around the girl’s fingers, Jolanda cleaned any remaining juices off of them, then took the cherry in her teeth and pulled it off the stem and slowly chewed and swallowed it.
Jolanda had never tasted the juices of a female before. Truth be told, she’d only tasted male juices twice and spit each time. But these juices were ... satisfying ... quenching.
“Mmmmm ...,” Jolanda moaned.
“Oh, how beautiful!”
Jolanda looked up to see Annie standing there, sporting a cock now.
“Where’s my little chocolate treat?” Annie asked, stroking the length of her strap-on erection.
Jolanda’s eyes widened. Who was she planning on—
“I’m ready for some chocolate-dipped cock,” she smiled.
“Mm-hmmmm ...,” Annie nodded.
Jolanda found herself unzipping her skirt, then sliding it and her panties to the floor. She stood back up and smiled meekly. “I—I’m ready, then ....”
Annie stepped up to her and felt her crotch to make sure she was lubricated. Damn! The woman was drenched! Positioning her cock with her fingers, she slid right into Jolanda, who gave a delighted moan that scaled several octaves.
“Oh, fuck me!” Jolanda thrust her hips forward and wrapped her arms around the blonde’s neck. Ohgod, what was she doing?! She was no better than one of these animals in the aisles, just ... going at it. “Mmmmm,” she moaned, wriggling her hips on her impaling spike.
A minute or two later, Annie asked her not to claw her back and shoulders so much, please.
“I’m sorry ... you’re just so ... YUMMY!” She apologized with her tongue, offering it into the other woman’s mouth.
Mrs Pittman soon let out a wail as she came in waves. Bobby pulled out as she writhed, mewling.
“Me next,” Mrs McCloud breathed desperately, “I’m here naked for you, Bobby!”
He stood up from Mrs Pittman, who was sprawled spread on the floor, still in an ecstatic daze, and Mrs McCloud knee-walked over to him, taking his cock gently and tenderly into her mouth and bobbing her head like a madwoman.
As she sucked on him, Bobby studied the stewardess’s pretty little tight light brown ass. “Hold on a minute,” he told Mrs McCloud, pulling her head off him.
Bobby stepped over to the counter and found a pad of butter sitting on the counter, then spread it on his erection. He stepped up behind the pretty stewardess getting pumped from the front by Annie and pressed his cock between her butt cheeks.
“Hey! No double-dicking!” she snapped reflexively, but the cockhead rubbing at her anus wore on her until she gasped. “DO it! Stick it IN! OHGOD!” She pressed back against his dick.
Bobby pushed and slid in as she wailed with joy.
Jolanda leaned back and wrapped her arms behind her and around Bobby’s neck, then writhed in a lusty delirious trance, bouncing from cock to cock in their little sandwich there.
To the side, Mrs McCloud was whining for Bobby to plug her, and Mrs Pittman took pity and applied her fingers to the poor woman’s pussy, quieting her down until she was just mewling.
Fireworks began going off in Jolanda’s mind. But after a minute, they were STILL going off in her mind. Sure, people were sex-obsessed pigs, but it felt GOOD to be a sex-obsessed pig! These sensations were just INCOMPARABLE!
After ten minutes, Jolanda was getting rigid with continual orgasms, and Bobby and Annie were afraid they would blow out her mind if they continued any longer, so they both pulled out and helped her sind to the floor. Then they rejoined the rest of the sexual fray.
Thirty minutes later, Jolanda was slowly, comfortably easing out of her brief sexual coma, and becoming adjusted to new sides of herself. WHERE had she learned to take it up the ASS?! And WHY did she wait so long to learn it?! If ONLY she had KNOWN! All the slow, dull YEARS could have been filled with daily anal ORGASMS!
She stirred and crawled over to a four-way orgy already in progress and inserted herself into it.
She had been exactly right: this HAD been one of THOSE flights! And she had already learned so much about herself! She’d never imagined before today what an ASS SLUT she was!
One of the pricks in the orgy took a hint from her wriggling buttocks and inserted up her backside, and Jolanda relented her awareness to the loud, operatic choir of orgasms that flooded through her mind.
If only ... her mother ... could see her ... now ....