Anne Horny As Hell free porn video

Krystle greeted me at the door, welcoming me with a hug and a kiss,
inviting me inside. Her hair was freshly styled, and she wore a lovely
blue silk cocktail dress, low cut, showing plenty of cleavage. She took
my hand and ushered me into the living room. Her house was much larger
than my father's, and the furniture more expensive. She earned more
than twice as much as my father, and it showed.

"You look gorgeous, Anne," Krystle said.

"Thank you," I replied. "So do you. That's a beautiful dress."

"Thanks, hon. Steve should be down in a minute," she said. "Would you
like a drink?"

"Please."

"We have soda, wine, whatever you like."

"What are you having?" I asked her.

"Steve and I like a martini or two before dinner," she said. "Would you
like one?"

"I've never had a martini."

"Then you're in for a treat," Krystle said. "Miguel mixes the best
martinis on the planet."

"Miguel?"

"One of our servants," she explained. "We employ a housekeeper and a
cook, but I hire extra people when we have friends for dinner. I just
don't have the time to entertain, what with work and all." Krystle went
to fetch Miguel, and I sat on the black leather couch, looking around
the room. Everything looked new and shiny, but there was a glitzy
quality to the furniture and knick-knacks, as if one was meant to know
how expensive these things were. Helen's house was also luxurious, but
it was a subtle luxury, not gaudy like Krystle's chrome and glass
furnishings.

"Here we go," Krystle said, returning with Miguel, a tall, handsome
young man in a short black waistcoat and perfectly pressed trousers. He
set about the task of mixing a pitcher of martinis, adding gin and just
a hint of vermouth to a shaker filled with ice. He capped the decanter
and shook it vigorously, pouring the clear mixture into three martini
glasses, adding an olive to each. Just then Steve appeared, entering
through the living-room's double doors, dressed in a sharp blue suit.
He was taller than my father, with closely-cropped red hair that was
starting to thin on top. Despite that, he was handsome, with clear
hazel eyes and a cleft chin.

"Anne, this is my husband, Steve," Krystle said.

"A pleasure to meet you," he said, extending his hand for a shake.

"The pleasure is mine," I said.

"Krys tells me that you're quite good with computers," Steve said,
accepting a martini from Miguel.

"I guess," I replied. "I'd never touched one until the other day."

"Steve's company makes those," Krystle said.

"Just the chips," he said. "The parts inside, processor, memory,
controllers. Here..." Steve picked up a lucite cube from the coffee
table and handed it to me. Embedded within was a square black wafer.
One side was covered with little gold pins. The other bore a white
stencil with the name of Steve's company and a series of tiny numbers.

"That's the brain of a computer," he said. Steve took a seat in one of
the leather armchairs, across from the couch.

"Cool." It was pretty neat, and I wanted to hear more. My curiosity
had been piqued.

"Don't get him started, Annie," Krystle said. "He can go on all night
about these things. Try your martini, let me know if you like it." She
sat down on the couch next to me.

I took a sip of my drink. It was strong but smooth, with an interesting
aftertaste, ever so slightly fruity.

"It's very good," I said. I would have liked a glass of wine instead,
but sipping this martini made me feel grown-up, sophisticated.

"Don't drink too fast," Krystle said. "These go right to your head." I
took her advice and paced myself, taking small sips, one for every two
of hers. Miguel mixed another round and then excused himself, bowing
slightly before leaving us. Steve poured the second round, and we made
small talk while we waited for dinner to be served.

In between listening to Krystle talk about the latest Paris fashions,
Steve talking about the new plant his company was building in Malaysia,
and answering their questions about Boston and the school I was going to
attend, I felt a distinct sexual tension in the room. Maybe it was the
way Steve was looking at me, or perhaps the way Krystle placed her hand
on my knee, squeezing it to punctuate what she was saying. I was just
about to put my hand on hers when a maid entered the room.

"Dinner is served, ma'am," she said. She wore a formal maids' uniform,
not the skimpy, frothy French kind, like the servants who attended
Bradley and Helen's swing parties wore, rather a long, charcoal grey
dress that came down above the knees, with a starched white apron tied
around her neck and waist. The maid was buxom, slightly chubby, like
Mia's housekeeper, but her high cheekbones and copper-colored skin
betrayed more than a hint of Native-American blood somewhere in her
ancestry.

"Thank you, Pilar," Steve said. She bowed and left the room.

"Shall we?" Krystle said. She stood up and held out her hand, leading
me into the dining room.

The table was the one piece of furniture I actually liked. A thick
glass oval sat upon a curved pedestal carved from green-tinted granite,
a welcome change from the chrome furniture in the living room. As I
took my seat, a second maid emerged from the kitchen with a soup tureen,
ladling gazpacho into my bowl. I'd never had that before, and I took a
small taste first. It was pretty good.

After the soup there was a salad course, and then roast game hen.
Miguel stood at attention while we ate and conversed, ready to refill a
water glass or pour more wine. Dessert was served afterwards, chocolate
mousse with freshly whipped cream, and coffee. As the maids cleared the
table, we returned to the living room, where Miguel poured snifters of
brandy, lighting Steve's cigar with a gold lighter.

"Bring me the tray Miguel," Steve said to the servant. Miguel snapped
to attention and left the room, returning with a silver tray which he
placed on the coffee table. It held six even lines of white powder and
a long chrome cylinder.

"Would you like some coke, Annie?" Krystle asked.

"Yes, please," I said. Krystle held my hair back as I leaned over the
coffee table and snorted one of the lines. I sat up and tilted my head
back, feeling the rush spread through my whole body.

"Oh my," I said, passing the chrome straw to Krystle, my heart beating
faster, a feeling of exhilaration coursing through my veins. "Oh my."

"Good stuff," Steve said. "Peruvian flake."

Krystle did a line and handed the straw to Steve. He snorted one and
passed it to me. As I did the second line, I could feel the first one
start to drip down the back of my throat, numbing it. After we finished
the coke, Steve pulled a gold cigarette case from his jacket, pulling
out a joint and lighting it. As good as the coke was, the pot was even
better, sweet tasting, with an almost skunky odor. I took a sip of
brandy and felt a sheen of perspiration on my forehead.

"You look hot, dear," Krystle said. "We can turn up the air
conditioning if you'd like."

"Don't bother," I said, reaching back and tugging at the zipper of my
dress. "I hope you don't mind." I stepped out of my black sheath and
sat down on the couch in my lace bra and panties. My inhibitions had
left with that first line of coke. Besides, I knew why I was here.

"That's a good idea," Krystle said. "Would you unzip me, Anne?" She
wore an expensive pale blue lace bra and matching panty underneath her
dress, no stockings or hose. As we passed the joint around, I felt her
hand on the small of my back, gently caressing me with a slow circular
motion.

Some people get very talkative when they do cocaine. I wasn't one of
those people, but Steve and Krystle were. Over the next half hour I
heard more than I needed to know about them, where they grew up, where
they went to school, just about everything. Krystle had been born and
raised in New Mexico, on a cattle ranch, one of eight c***dren. She'd
dropped out of high school to wait tables in a diner, but she managed to
get an equivalency certificate and get accepted into a community
college. From there she transferred to New Mexico State and got a
degree in business management, moving to Tucson first before coming to
Phoenix, picking up her real estate license along the way. It was here
that she met Steve.

He'd grown up outside of Seattle, and studied electrical engineering at
Cal Tech, getting a position with Boeing right before the first energy
crisis in the early Seventies. Being a new employee, he was the first
to go when the layoffs began. For a while, the only work he could find
was on a used car lot, cleaning automobiles. When a sales position
opened, he took it, figuring that business would pick up soon, and he'd
be re-hired by Boeing.

After two years it looked like that would never happen, so Steve headed
south. If he was going to sell cars, he might as well do it where it
didn't rain three hundred days each year. He worked in San Jose, then
Las Vegas, before finding a sales position at a new car dealership in
Phoenix, where he worked with my father. And just as my father had met
Mia when her parents flew down from Montreal to buy her a Jeep, Steve
met Krystle when she came in to the showroom to price a new car. They
dated, got engaged, and right before the wedding the company Steve now
works for began to hire engineers. It was only a couple of years before
he was made a manager, on the fast track for a vice presidency.

Then it was my turn. As Krystle sat next to me, stroking my hair and
caressing my thighs, Steve asked me whether I'd decided on a college.

"I have a couple of years before I have to decide," I said.

"Wait, I thought you're at least s*******n," Steve said. "How old are
you?"

"I just turned fifteen."

"I told you how old she is," Krystle said.

"No you didn't," he complained.

"Yes I did," she said. "Last night. Don't you remember?"

"What, when we were in bed?"

"Right after Johnny's monologue," Krystle said. "Weren't you
listening?"

"Sorry, Krys," he said. "I must've been half asleep. What's the age of
consent here?"

"Eighteen, I think," she said. "Not that they ever enforce that,
especially on the reservations."

"Shit," Steve said. "Get dressed, Anne. I'll drive you home."

"No," I said.

"What?" Steve looked as if he'd just been slapped in the back of the
head.

"I said 'no'. I came here to get laid, and that's what I want to do."
Krystle squeezed my thigh and laughed.

"I told you she was a wild one," she said. "Let's do some more lines."

"Okay, if you say so," Steve said, somewhat reluctantly. He summoned
Miguel, who had been waiting in the dining room. The servant took the
tray and left, returning a minute later with six more lines of cocaine.
While he was gone, Krystle had reached behind my back and unhooked my
bra. I shrugged the straps off of my shoulders and say back on the
couch while she cupped and fondled my breasts. Eighteen or not, I could
tell Steve was getting aroused as he watched his wife play with my
little titties. I unclasped her bra and caressed her full breasts,
teasing her nipples, feeling them stiffen between my fingers.

We snorted the cocaine and smoked another joint. Miguel poured more
brandy, and I could see his hardness pressing against the leg of his
trousers. He managed to keep a deadpan expression, though there was a
stiffness to his gait. I suppose it's not easy to walk with an
erection.

Steve took off his jacket and loosened his tie, undoing the top button
of his shirt. By this time Krystle and I were making out on the couch,
our lips locked together, our hands roaming over each other, caressing,
squeezing, pinching. Steve got up from his armchair and sat down on the
couch next to me, gently exploring my body. I felt him pull my hair
away from my neck and start to kiss me there, working up to my earlobe,
nibbling it as he squeezed my breasts. I leaned against the back of the
couch and let Steve and Krystle have their way with me.

"Let's go upstairs," Krystle whispered. She stood up from the couch and
helped me to my feet, taking my hand and leading me upstairs. Steve was
right behind me, his hand on my bottom, cupping my cheeks through my
black lace panties. We walked down a carpeted hallway, framed prints on
the walls, past their big bedroom and through a doorway.

"This is our playroom," Krystle said. "It's supposed to be our guest
bedroom, but our guests usually don't get much sleep."

The room was large, as big as my father's bedroom. There was a king-
sized bed with straps attached to the bedposts at each corner. Next to
it was an armoire, the drawers partially open, revealing an assortment
of toys: dildos, vibrators, massage oils, lubricants, handcuffs, whips
and paddles. Another drawer contained lingerie, feather boas, some
leather items that I couldn't identify. Opposite the bed was a door
that led to a bathroom, and I could see a large plastic sheet covering
the tile floor.

"Who are your guests?" I asked.

"Just people we meet in bars," Steve said. "Men, women, couples."

"Sometimes we place a personal ad in the paper," Krystle added.
"Variety is the spice of life."

There was a knock on the door and Miguel entered, carrying the tray of
cocaine in one hand, and a bottle of champagne in the other. Behind him
was one of the maids, carrying a tray with three champagne flutes and a
silver bucket filled with ice. Miguel placed the cocaine on the bedside
table and opened the bottle. The cork made a loud popping sound and a
bit of foam bubbled out of the neck. Then he poured it into the three
glasses, put the bottle in the ice bucket, bowed slightly, and left with
the maid.

"To Anne," Krystle said, clinking her glass against mine. "A lovely,
sexy young woman."

"I'll drink to that," Steve said. I took a sip of champagne and put
down the glass. My head was starting to spin from all the alcohol and
d**gs, and I didn't want to insult my hosts by throwing up and passing
out.

"You should see her pretty little pussy, Steve," Krystle said. As he
started to undress, Krystle knelt behind me and tugged at my panties,
pulling them down over my thighs, exposing my shaved cunny to her
husband. He smiled as he stepped out of his trousers and took off his
shirt. I could see his hardness poking at the front of his red silk
boxer shorts, making a tent in the shiny fabric.

"You've seen it before?" Steve asked.

"Tuesday, when I was with her and Frank in the model home at Corazon,"
she replied.

"Wait a second, you and Frank?" Steve said, frowning. "I thought we
agreed..."

"We agreed not to fall in love with anyone else," Krystle said. "You
don't think I'd fall for one of my salesmen, do you?"

"No, but..."

"Steve, honey, he's just a swinging dick to me," she said. "Nothing
more. Besides, you're going to fuck his little girl. I think it's a
fair deal for everyone."

"I guess," Steve said. He didn't sound convinced, but that didn't stop
him from coming up to me and kissing me on the lips, his tongue seeking
mine, his hands squeezing my bottom as his wife caressed my back and
cupped my breasts.

"Taste her, Steve," Krystle said. "Stick your tongue in that lovely
little pussy of hers. Lay down, baby." I laid down across the bed and
Krystle stretched out next to me, pressing her lips against mine, her
hands busy with my breasts, kneading them, pinching my nipples.

Steve went straight for my sex. No teasing, no kisses on the thighs or
the backs of my knees. He started lashing my clit almost immediately
with his tongue, sucking it with his lips, his fingers probing my
passage. I could feel his knuckle pressing against my sensitive inner
spot, and as Krystle began to suckle my breasts, I felt my pleasure
build, spurred on by the coke we'd snorted, the pot we smoked, the
martinis, the wine, the brandy, the champagne. It made it easy to let
myself go. I closed my eyes and felt like I was reduced to a clit and a
pair of nipples, that this was all that was left of my body, the rest
having melted away like an ice cube in the Arizona sun.

And then I felt it, a cold, wet sensation on my breasts. Krystle had
taken a piece of ice from the bucket and held it between her lips, using
it to circle my nipples. I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt it,
not because of the cold, but from surprise, the unexpected sensation
that drew me back into the moment. But then I let go of myself again,
savoring this new feeling as the ice stiffened my nipples and sent
chills through my whole body. Steve was still ravishing my sex, licking
and sucking my pearl, his fingers busily sawing in and out of my slit.
Krystle swallowed what was left of the ice cube and lightly grazed my
nipples with her teeth, and that was what sent me over the edge,
trembling in her arms and pinning Steve between my quivering thighs. He
looked up from between my legs and smiled, and then he stood up and
stepped out of his silk boxers.

I now understood what Krystle saw in my father. Steve's hard cock was
no bigger than David's, and it wasn't very thick, either, though his
purplish glans was nice and fat. His balls, though, were enormous, the
biggest pair I'd ever seen. They wouldn't have been out of place
between the legs of a horse, although they made his penis look even
smaller by comparison. I sat up on the bed and reached for him,
stroking his cock, cupping his huge sack. He had almost no body hair,
just sparse red patches on his chest and groin, and almost none on his
scrotum. I thought he'd shaved himself, but I could feel a fine, almost
invisible fur. I leaned forward and began to lick and suck his big
nuts. Steve sighed and stroked my hair, his hips rocking slowly as I
started to fellate him.

"Take her, Steve," Krystle said, climbing off of the bed and selecting a
vibrator from the armoire. "I want to see you fuck Frank's little
girl."

"Please," I said, pulling his cock from my mouth and looking up at him.
"Fuck me. Please."

Steve and Krystle's horniness was rubbing off on me, and the thought of
her watching me as I took her husband's cock in my hungry cunny made me
ache inside. He gently pushed me back on the bed and mounted me,
reaching down to guide his hardness into my passage. I wrapped my arms
and legs around his body and held him as he began to thrust with short,
shallow strokes. Krystle returned to the bed and turned on the
vibrator, a long pink phallus with a fat head and prominent veins molded
into the latex skin. She touched it to my nipples, my belly, her
husband's swaying balls, and between his buttocks before using it on
herself, rubbing it up and down her cleft as she laid next to us,
watching us fuck.

Steve may not have had the biggest cock in the world, but he did have
stamina, probably a by-product of the cocaine. As his wife squirmed and
writhed on the bed next to us, the big vibe buried in her snatch, he
pumped me for what seemed like an hour, alternating between those short
strokes and hard thrusts that nearly knocked the wind out of me. After
Krystle came she turned the vibrator on me again, pushing me towards
another climax as she rubbed it over my nipples. I could feel her
juices on the vibrator, drying on my areolae, feeling almost as cold as
the ice. I clamped my muscles down on Steve's throbbing cock when I
came, and he gasped, his glans flaring inside me as he began to spurt, a
flow of hot, thick semen that I thought would never end. It seemed like
he'd never stop coming, and I could feel his cream start to seep out of
my messy snatch even before he stopped thrusting and pulled out. There
were clots of sperm all over his softening cock, and Krystle leaned over
to clean him with her tongue, scooping the cum from his shaft and
swallowing it.

Steve wasn't one for cuddling afterwards, but Krystle was, snuggling up
against my body and holding me while he sipped his champagne and watched
us coo and kiss. Her hair was uncharacteristically messy, but she
didn't seem to care. She just wanted to rock me in her arms and kiss me
on the cheek and neck.

"Such a sexy little girl," she whispered. "I hope I have a girl like
you someday."

"Thank you, Krys," I said, kissing her on the lips. We laid together
for a while and then sat up to drink some champagne. My mouth was dry
from all the moaning I'd done, and it felt good to wet my lips with the
bubbly wine.

"Another line?" Steve asked, passing me the tray. We did a line each
and chased it with another joint and more champagne. I began to feel
the urgent need to use the bathroom, so I started to get up from the
bed.

"Gotta go, honey?" Krystle asked.

"Yes, please."

"Let's not let it go to waste," Steve said. "Mind if we join you?"

"You want to...?" I said, suddenly remembering what Krystle had said in
the bathroom that day when we were about to take a shower together.
She'd made me sit on her lap and pee on her, and I remembered her saying
that her husband was into this sort of thing.

"If you'd rather not," Steve said, starting to look disappointed.

"No, I don't mind," I said. When in Rome...

"Wonderful," Krystle said, reaching into the armoire and pulling out a
dog collar and leash. "Let's take our pretty little doggy for a walk."

"Outside? No way," I said.

"No, dear. Just to the bathroom," she said, slipping the leather collar
around my neck and buckling it, just tight enough to keep it from
slipping down to my collarbone. She unhooked my garter belt and rolled
down my stockings, attaching the leash to the collar, and I got down on
my hands and knees as she gently tugged on the tether. She and Steve
walked me into the bathroom, and the plastic sheeting made a crinkling
nose as I crawled over it.

"Would you like to go first, Krys?" Steve said.

"Thank you, honey. Don't mind if I do." She handed him the leash and
laid down on the floor, lying on her back. Steve tugged at the leash
and made me crawl on top of her. His cum was oozing from my slit,
dripping over Krystle's thighs and pooling on the clear plastic.

"I don't know if I can...," I said. I had to pee badly, but it was hard
to do this in front of them, let alone on Krystle.

"Just close your eyes and relax, Annie," Steve said, kneeling next to me
and stroking my back. I took a deep breath and let go, just a trickle
at first, and then a stream of hot urine began to pour from my cleft,
all over Krystle's neatly trimmed pubes, flowing down her sex. She
began to sigh and moan, squeezing her big tits as she smiled at me.
Right before my bladder emptied she shuddered, pinching her nipples as a
mini-orgasm washed through her body.

"Let me clean you," she said. Steve positioned me over her face and she
began to lick my messy hole, swallowing her husband's semen and licking
the beads of piss from my labia. I let out just a bit more pee, the
last drops from my bladder, and she greedily drank it all.

"Mmmm...that was good," Krystle said. "Your turn, now."

I didn't know what she meant by that, but I found out soon enough. I
felt a warm stream of piss flowing down my back, streaming over my
bottom and the back of my thighs. As her husband peed on me, Krystle
reached between my legs and played with my pussy, rubbing my clit,
probing my bottom, making her husband's urine splash against my nether
lips. He must have had a gallon of piss saved up for me, almost a
couple of minute's worth. His flow finally waned to a trickle, and I
felt him shaking off the last few drops.

"Did you like that, Annie?" Steve asked me, helping me to my feet and
removing the leash from my collar.

"Sort of, yeah," I said. Just like when I'd done this with Margaret, at
Julia's house in Maine, I felt nasty, dirty, like there wasn't anything
I wouldn't do, short of something really gross or painful. Krystle
seemed to love it, though, and I could tell Steve was really into it,
from the way his cock was starting to get hard.

"Your turn, dear," she said. Steve laid down on the plastic, not
seeming to mind the pool of urine he was laying in, and Krystle squatted
over him, letting out a steaming stream of piss, all over his cock and
balls. Before she was even finished he was hard again, and I watched as
Krystle kneeled on the floor and Steve mounted her, taking her from
behind. As they fucked doggy-style, I squatted next to her and played
with her swaying breasts, reaching between her legs to rub her big
swollen clit, making her come as her husband pounded her with his stubby
cock. He didn't last as long this time, digging his fingers into her
ass cheeks as he filled her with his cum, almost as much as he'd spurted
inside my cunny.

They must have done this often, because they had the clean-up down to a
science. There was a stack of fresh towels next to the sink, and
Krystle used half of them to blot up the urine that pooled on the
plastic while Steve rolled the sheets up like a rug. Then we stepped
into the shower, my third one that day, not counting what Steve had done
on me, and we lathered each other, rinsing off the residue of our wet
little game.

We dried each other off and Krystle took the dog collar off of my neck,
returning to their playroom to snort some more cocaine. Steve looked as
if he was done for the night, his soft cock looking tiny compared to his
enormous balls. He sat on the bed and watched as his wife and I kissed
and felt each other up, and then laying head to toe, our heads nestled
between each other's thighs, kissing and licking each other's cleft,
making each other quiver and writhe on the bed.

I could taste a lingering trace of urine on her labia, the bitter taste
mixing with her husband's cream and her nectar, but I lapped up the
mixture anyway, making her squirm and pin me between her thighs as she
came. She returned the favor, her lips clamped to my sex as I felt my
whole body tingle. Steve decided to join in, laying behind me and
probing my nether hole with my tongue, his fingers manipulating my slit
as his wife's tongue danced over my clit. I came so hard that I had to
squirm away from them, shaking like a leaf and trying to catch my
breath. Krystle held me in her arms, laying my head on her bosom until
I could feel my strength begin to return.

"Let's go down to the hot tub," Krystle said.

"Hot tub?" I began to wonder if all this water would start to make my
skin dry out, and I made a mental note to use some moisturizer when I
got back home.

"I could use a good soak right now," Steve said. "Come, it's
downstairs."

They led me downstairs, through a hallway, past the kitchen, stopping at
the doorway. I could see Miguel, his trousers down around his ankles,
while Pilar, the maid with the high cheekbones, knelt at his feet,
sucking his long, tanned cock. Steve and Krystle didn't seem to be
self-conscious about letting the servants see them naked, but I stood
behind her, peeking over her shoulder as I watched Miguel fuck the
maid's mouth.

"Miguelito," Steve said. "Bring the champagne and the tray down to the
tub when you get a chance, okay?"

"Si, Senor," Miguel replied. "I will do that right...now." He began to
come in the maid's mouth, making her cheek bulge with his throbbing
member. I could see her throat moving as she swallowed his semen, but
she began to choke on it, coughing wetly and releasing his rod from her
lips. Miguel spurted a couple of ropy jets of sperm all over her face
and the bodice of her apron, but the maid seemed to like this, smiling
as she extended her tongue and began to clean the head of his penis.

"What a stud that boy is," Steve said, leading me down the hall, past
the kitchen and the servants' quarters, through a door that led to a
glazed enclosure, like a small greenhouse. There was a redwood hot tub
in the middle of the room, along with a couple of wooden benches.
Krystle checked the temperature on the heating unit and dipped her hand
in the steaming water.

"Could be a little warmer," she said.

"That's okay," Steve said, checking the gauge and testing the water with
his toe. "I don't like it too hot." As they eased into the warm water,
I followed them, slowly settling into the big wooden tub. I felt
wonderful, soothing, almost like being back in the womb. Krystle sat
next to me, her arm around my shoulder, her breasts bobbing just beneath
the surface.

Miguel and the maid came in a few minutes later, bringing the ice bucket
with the champagne bottle and the silver tray with six freshly cut lines
of coke. He had a contented smile, almost a smirk. The maid had wiped
his cum from her face, but her apron still had a telltale stain. He
held the tray for us as we snorted the lines and then poured us some
more champagne.

"We'd like some more lines, Miguel" Steve said. "And a joint would be
nice."

"Si, Senor," he replied, leaving with Pilar. They returned a few
minutes later with the silver tray and Steve's gold cigarette case. I
was feeling pretty wired at that point, and I could only do one line.

"What's the matter, Annie?" Krystle asked.

"I'll never get to sleep tonight," I said. "I'm supposed to get up
early tomorrow. We're going camping."

"I can give you something to help you get to sleep," Steve said. "Knock
you right out."

"Thanks," I said. "Would you mind if I gave this line to Miguel?"

"Not at all," Krystle said. "He dips into our stash, anyway." Miguel
blushed and smiled sheepishly, and he took the tray, snorting half of
the line and giving the other half to Pilar.

"Su esposa?" I asked him as he lit the joint and passed it to Krystle.

"Pilar es mi hermana," he replied. The maid smiled and curtseyed.

"What did he say?" Krystle asked me.

"I asked him if she was his wife," I said. "He said she's his sister."

"I could have told you that," Steve said, taking a deep drag on the
joint and passing it to me.

"Miguel worked for our landscaping contractor," Krystle said. "I
thought he was too handsome to be pulling weeds all day. We hired him
and Pilar to be our live-in help. He's a wonderful cook with a
beautiful cock." She accepted the joint from me and took a deep drag.

"Miguelito, show our guest your cock," Steve said.

"Si, senor," he said, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling down his
zipper. Pilar helped him push his trousers and briefs down around his
thighs.

"It's glorious," Krystle said. "You'll love it."

I'd only caught a glimpse of his member in the kitchen. Even flaccid,
it was nice and thick, with a purplish head peeking out of the hood of
his foreskin.

"Ven aqui," I said. Miguel came closer, stepping up on the platform
that surrounded the tub.

"May I?" I asked him, reaching out to touch his thick shaft.

"Si."

As I began to stroke him back to life, Pilar came closer, watching as he
hardened between my fingers. I turned around so I was leaning on the
rim of the tub and ducked my head between his legs, taking him into my
mouth. I could feel Krystle's and Steve's hands on me, cupping my
breasts, dipping between my nether lips, teasing my clit. Pilar gently
brushed my hair away from my cheek as I sucked her brother's cock,
caressing my neck and shoulder.

I heard movement behind me. It was Steve, his hands on my hips, his
stubby prick pressing into me. Krystle reached under me and began to
rub my clit, her full breasts pressing into my arm. As Steve began to
slowly thrust inside me, Miguel rocked his hips to his rhythm, two hard
cocks filling me, one in my mouth, the other pumping my tender hole.

The only thing better than two cocks was three, I thought. I felt a
finger probing my bottom, maybe Steve's, maybe Krystle's, as if my
wishes had been answered. I felt so nasty, so slutty, a husband fucking
me while his wife watched and diddled my clit, and sucking a handsome
young man's meat while his sister fondled his balls. Steve felt bigger
than he had before, his cock fatter, his thrusts harder. Whoever was
fingering my ass had their whole digit inside me, up to the knuckle,
sawing in and out in time with Steve's stubby prick.

I bathed Miguel's cockhead with my tongue, stroking the portion of his
shaft that my lips couldn't reach, feeling that kernel of pleasure
growing within my belly, spreading outward, making me tremble in the
warm water. There were hands all over me, caressing, kneading,
squeezing, and I began to come, releasing Miguel's hardness from my
mouth so I could give voice to my pleasure. Before I closed my eyes, I
saw Pilar take over, turning him so she could continue what I had
started, hungrily gobbling her brother's hard meat.

"She's a wild one," Krystle said, pinching my clit and making me gasp
with surprise and delight.

"Fuck...yes...fuck me...fuck me...," I moaned, urging Steve to pound me
harder, faster, to send me over another peak of pleasure. I opened my
eyes again and saw Pilar hoist her dress and lay down on one of the
benches. Her brother squatted over her, tugged the crotch of her
panties aside, pushed his hardness into her hungry hole, and they began
to fuck furiously as we watched from the hot tub. Suddenly, I felt
Steve's cock twitching in my snatch, erupting in a gusher of his hot
seed, making me cry out as he filled my passage with his thick cream.
His thrusting slowed as Miguel's sped up, and soon the room echoed with
Pilar's cries instead of my own.

Steve slipped out of my slit and sat down again, reaching for his
champagne and taking a sip to quench his thirst. I settled back down on
the seat that ran around the inside of the hot tub, nestling into
Krystle's loving arms. She kissed me on the cheek and I turned my head,
seeking her lips with my own. As Pilar moaned and cried in the throes
of her climax, I reached between Krystle's legs and began to pet her
down there, seeking out her swollen pearl with my fingertips. She began
to sigh, holding me close as I toyed with her sex, wanting her to feel
the pleasure I had experienced at the end of her husband's cock. She
came quickly for me, rocking her hips under the warm water, making
little waves that splashed along the side of the tub.

I heard Miguel start to grunt behind me, and we turned to watch him come
in his sister's snatch, his copious emission making her pussy emit soft
sucking sounds as his thrusts began to slow. Then he pulled out of her
and she sat up, licking his cum and her juices from his softening meat,
kissing his purple glans when she was finished. Pilar helped him pull
his boxers and trousers back up, and he held out his hand to help her to
her feet.

"Thank you, Miguel, Pilar," Steve said. "That will be all."

"Si, Senor. Gracias." He and Pilar left, taking the tray with them. I
heard Miguel say something that made his sister giggle as their
footsteps receded down the hall.

We relaxed in the tub for a while, sipping the last of the champagne.
Krystle asked if she could open another bottle for me, but I declined.
The coke was wearing off, and the warm water had started to make me
drowsy. Steve helped me out of the tub and his wife dried me off with a
plush terrycloth towel, wrapping it around me and leading me back
upstairs to help me get dressed. Steve had gone into the living room to
pour himself a drink and light up a fresh cigar.

"Thank you," I said to her as I sat on the edge of their playroom bed
while she rolled my stockings up my legs. I leaned forward and kissed
her on the forehead.

"You're quite welcome, Anne," she said. "We loved having you for
dinner."

"Can I ask you a question?" I said. "It's sort of personal."

"Sure," she said, attaching my garter belt's tabs to my stockings.

"You and Steve, do you love each other?"

"Of course we do, Annie?" she said. "Why would you think otherwise?"

"I don't," I replied. "I was just curious. I mean, you both see other
people, right?"

"Yes, Annie," Krystle said. "We do."

"The people I live with in Boston, Bradley and Helen, sometimes they
share their bed with other people. But they always do it together."

"Every marriage is different, Anne," she said, leaning forward and
planting a tender kiss between my breasts. "I guess Steve and I just
have bigger appetites than most other people. But if we couldn't see
anyone else, I'd still be happy with him. He's a sweet guy, a
gentleman, and I do love him, Annie. I'm glad we have our
'understanding', that we can see other people, as long as it doesn't
jeopardize the love we have with each other. Does that answer your
question?"

"Yes, thanks," I said. I kissed her on the lips and then she helped me
to my feet, holding me steady while I slipped on my panties and stepped
into my heels. We stood together for a moment, just holding each other.

"Your father says that you might move in with him," Krystle said. "I
hope you do. We'd love to see more of you."

"I'd like that," I said. We kissed again, and she led me back
downstairs to the living room, where I'd left my bra and my dress.
Steve was sitting in one of the armchairs, a towel wrapped around his
waist, drink in hand, puffing on a cigar. He watched as I got dressed
and then stood up to give me a kiss as Krystle zipped up my dress.

"Can I give you a ride home?" he asked.

"No thanks," I said. "I'd like to walk. It's not far."

"I hope we can see you again," Steve said.

"I'm flying home on Sunday, but I might be back for spring vacation," I
said.

"I hope you can call this your home someday," Krystle said. She and
Steve gave me a hug and a kiss and then I left, stepping into the cool
night air.

The route I took home brought me past Jack's place, and I stood outside
his house trying to see if there was a light on inside. I'd been well
and truly fucked by Steve, and Krystle had gone to town on my cunny, but
I still had a yen for the feeling of Jack's huge cock stretching my
tender little hole. I waited a few minutes, trying to see if the
bedroom light was on, but he must have been asleep, even though it was
just past ten o'clock. I let out a little sigh of disappointment and
walked back to the house.

Schultzie was there to greet me at the door, wagging his tail, having
heard my key in the lock. I gave him a friendly scratch behind the ear
and a pat on his furry flank, heading down the hall to Dana's bedroom.
Her door was open and the light was on, but she wasn't in bed. I could
see a light on in David's room through the gap under his door, and I
heard the sound of his unplugged guitar, a tortoise shell pick on steel
strings, the squeak of fingers on the neck.