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Gayle's CeremonyChapter 7: Greg free porn video
Bill held Greg’s clothes as the naked guy waited for Sharon’s go ahead. Instead, Gayle herself said, “Ready.”
Instead of the obvious route between her splayed legs, Greg went up beside Gayle and kissed her on the lips. He said something, and Gayle nodded.
Greg swept one tit with his beard from the top to the tip. Then he went back and kissed a path down that length. He repeated that with the other tit.
He went back and got between her legs. He trailed his beard up one thigh and down another until Gayle straightened her legs. Then he moved up her body to kiss the ends of her tits again.
He was over Gayle and covering her, but he wasn’t far enough up to be in her.
He had a tit in each hand, and he brought one to his mouth and suckled there. Then he brought the other to his mouth and suckled there.
Finally, Gayle raised her knees again. Greg raised his body off her and moved up until he was staring in her eyes. He brought his hips downward and pressed forward. Gayle said something, and be backed off an inch and came forward again. The third time he tried, he apparently got in.
You could see him sink his hips between her legs, and Gayle sighed. Gayle only moaned when you went down on her, and only sometimes then, but the woman really appreciated dick. Sometimes, getting off was all you wanted; sometimes, you wanted the other person in the bed to appreciate what you brought there,
Or in the chair. The women’s rooms were all decorated differently, but each one contained a sturdy chair. And, when Bill and Gayle were using it, the chair damn-well needed to be sturdy.
One night, she’d invited him up to her room.
“Are you sure?” he’d asked. “I was with Sharon after breakfast.”
“I know. I want you to last.” In the room, they’d played and stripped. He’d used his beard on her boobs, and he’d gestured towards the bed, expecting to go down on her. Instead, she’d led him to the chair.
He’d sat forward on the chair, and she’d sat on his knees while he tickled and soothed her boobs. Meanwhile, he’d played with her cunt until it was dripping.
“Can’t stand it,” she’d said. “I need this now.” She’d gripped his cock while raising herself off his knees. He’d held her open wide, wider than he’d needed to. She had sighed as she impaled herself on him.
“That’s what I needed,” she’d said. “Hard cock. Deep inside. I feel it. Do you?”
“Yeah, and it’s lovely.” And it had been lovely. Her soft, wet folds were all around his cock.
She did the work, rising and falling slowly around him. She held his shoulders, and he held her hip with one hand, while his other held one boob and brought it to his mouth as she rose.
Finally, despite the slow pace she set, she had come off. She’d lost her pace, and he could feel her grip his cock as she fell on him.
As he’d warned her, he had been slowed by having already come that morning. When she’d recovered, he’d taken her to bed. He’d set a fast pace, and she’d come a second time with him.
Now, it was Greg’s cock she was appreciating, and Greg was setting a moderate pace. As he watched, the pace increased.
Gayle’s hands were flat on the ground and pushing up as she shoved her belly back at Greg when he slammed into her. Greg’s own hands now slipped from her boobs to the ground. His head and trunk rose as his groin pushed deeply into Gayle.
She convulsed. He thrust even harder and poised above Gayle, shaking.
One arm collapsed, and Greg rolled off her. Gayle shuddered once. Then they both lay still. Greg slowly climbed to his feet. Steve, naked as he was, gave him a hand up.
Wayne watched Greg kiss Gayle from beside her. That was all very well in a normal session. It was going a little far in a ceremony that was essentially pulling a chain. He suspected the Greg hadn’t any experience with that.
When he’d been a senior in college, long before he’d met anyone of The Crew, one of his fraternity brothers had taken a girl to a game who got herself plastered. She’d gone back to the house with the guy and drank some more. He’d not been exactly sober himself. When he’d been done with the girl, his roommate had found her in his bed. Well, if she was willingly in his bed while his roommate was passed out in his own, that was an offer he wasn’t going to refuse.
Having a girl in the house outside of special party times, and above the first floor at any time, was a violation of the rules. The seniors found out, and insisted on their share for not enforcing the rules.
He’d been fourth, not counting the sophomore roommates. There’d been no kissing, no foreplay to get the girl ready. Hell! She’d been more than ready. She’d been open, loose, and running. “Sloppy seconds” didn’t begin to describe it.
Still, the lack of friction had helped prolong the experience, and he’d come strongly when he finally climaxed.
Now, Greg was experiencing the sloppy seconds, and Wayne had been first. And Gayle had moaned for Wayne. Still, Greg set a slow pace for the longest time.
When Greg increased his pace, Wayne had to admit, he was getting something that Wayne hadn’t from his chain. Gayle was pushing back when Greg went into her, not lying flaccid like the coed.
The two were moving more rapidly and more forcefully now. Gayle was something else. Her fourth fuck of the hour, and she still had something to contribute. She was pushing against the ground to throw herself at him.
Then, Greg lifted himself on his hands to get a better angle to shove it to her.
Gayle’s hands slipped, and he legs lifted and splayed further. Greg rammed it home and posed there for an instant.
Greg fell to his left side and missed the pleasure of taking his post-coital rest on Gayle’s softness. He lay on the ground for a minute, and then took Steve’s hand to get up.
Greg had to brush himself off before taking the clothes that Bill gave him.
Val liked Gayle, and she owed her a lot including her introduction to Greg. Gayle had been first and shared; the Crew was all about sharing. She knew that Greg and Gayle had frequent sex, and she’d known that this night was about all the guys having sex with Gayle. She’d expected Greg to fuck Gayle, and that had only led to her worries about Gayle having to do six men in one night.
So why did it make her jealous to see Greg kiss Gayle?
She’d seen Greg kiss Gayle or Sharon before, and she hadn’t felt that jealous. Maybe it was the feeling that he kissed her this time without needing to. He kissed her because he had feelings for her aside from the sex.
Anyway, when Greg had got his cock into Gayle’s pussy, the jealousy transformed into arousal. Greg was good with his beard; he was good with his lips and with his fingers.
He was really good with his cock.
Her first time with Greg had been on a sort of double date. They’d gone to the guys’ apartment. She’d met both of them before, and she’d been rather taken with Greg. Gayle had prepared dinner -- with Val’s rather amateurish assistance -- and Val had got up to wash the dishes. Greg had helped carry the stuff to the kitchen, and when she had them rinsed, he’d loaded the dishwasher.
When they got back from the kitchen, they were alone. Greg led her into the living room and gestured towards the sofa. When she’d sat down, he had sat beside her.
She hadn’t objected to the kiss. Hell! She liked Greg. And, if the hand on her tit seemed going a little far, she was conscious enough of they smallness to take it as a compliment as well as an imposition. This guy had played on Gayle’s much larger playground, after all.
Then, over the sound of the dishwasher, came the sound of Gayle’s moan.
“Steve’s done something right,” Greg had said. “It takes a fine touch to get Gayle to express appreciation like that. How do you express appreciation, Val?” That told her that Greg expected them to have sex that night. Right then and there, she had a decision to make. She hadn’t expected that, but she liked Greg. He wouldn’t rape her, but he might not invite her again. She could say “no,” Could she say “not this time; ask me later”?
When he blouse was undone and her bra pushed up, Greg had brushed his beard all over her tits. It was silky and felt more arousing than anyone else’s fingers ever had.
“Please,” she’d said when he’d tried to ease her back on the sofa. “They might come out.”
“Not before breakfast time. But, still, do you want more privacy?”
“Yeah.” And she’d followed him into his bedroom. She still had enough presence of mind to note that the place was painfully neat. Knowing something about bachelors, she had known that he’d expected her to see it. Well, she wasn’t going to go to bed with a man when he had presence of mind. It was up to Greg to overwhelm it.
And he had. His shirt had followed her top and bra to the dresser. His tongue had explored her mouth while her nipples tried to count his chest hairs. He’d lowered her jeans and lifted her by her pantied rump into another kiss with him standing straight. He’d lowered the panties and brought her to her first climax of the night with his magic fingers.
He’d had the covers so he could strip the bed with one motion. Then he’d laid her there and stripped her almost as quickly. Then there was more beard play and deep kisses while he stroked her to another climax.
“Val,” he’d said. Then he slid his smooth, cool cock into her. He’d been as naked as she, and his legs had been as hairy as hers had been smooth.
But the sensation overwhelming everything else had been the large, firm presence sliding into and out of her.
It had reached deep into her to soothe some itches of which she had been only slightly aware. Then it had raised other itches that only faster strokes could ease. As the strokes sped, some spring in her wound tighter and tighter. She had become afraid that she would break apart.
And then she had. She had gasped as she shattered all around him and under him. As the spring flew apart, she had been vaguely conscious of his pulsing deep in her pussy. He’d come out and rolled over. Then he’d gathered her into a spoon.
Only when she’d seen him remove the rubber, had she become conscious that he’d used one.
Well, if Gayle had led her into that experience, she could allow her this one without jealousy.
And Gayle seemed to be enjoying herself. Her arms were down and pushing her body up against Greg’s. Her face, now that Greg had told her to look for it, showed signs of an approaching climax.
The worry in her expression deepened, and the hands on the sheet covering the ground clenched.
While those signs of her passion were fairly subtle, Greg’s signs were as obvious as they could get. He had abandoned his slow, gentle stokes. He was driving himself into Gayle every time, and he was moving more rapidly, taking both longer strokes and more of them per minute.
Then Gayle had a spasm, and Greg followed seconds behind. He shook above her for an instant. Then he fell off her to his side.
Apparently knowing that Gayle would need time to recover, Greg reached up to Steve for help rising. While Steve was helping him up, he wasn’t attacking Gayle.
The two friends looked like they were exchanging an odd sort of salute standing there naked in front of each other. Greg’s cock was lowering while Steve’s was rising.
Steve watched Greg kiss Gayle. It was somehow typical of the man, maybe typical of both of them. Greg enjoyed a good fuck, and he didn’t need romance to excuse it. Still, he usually liked the girls he fucked. He thought they were doing him a good deed, and he didn’t think that he was doing them any evil. As long as they were both pleased and both unharmed, bringing guilt into it was ridiculous. And, if there was no guilt, then there was no taking.
Gayle seemed to feel the same way. She was fond of him, and she was glad he was fond of her. Greg might, possibly, have given up other women for Gayle. Steve didn’t think that Gayle would ever give up other men for Greg. Since neither wanted that, the question was moot.
Greg got his prick into Gayle’s cunt without either of them using their hands. Just to show that it could be done. Maybe to show that Greg knew the way as nobody else did. This night was about a pseudo ceremony, and it was about a kid, and it was definitely about sex. It was about competition, too.
One thing that neither of them would do was be super-analytical like he’d just been. Not just at that moment, which was obviously a moment for them to be sensual and not mental, but at any moment.
But he could see his best friend pumping a good female friend, and a female friend he would get to pump next. If he didn’t get mental, he’d get sensual, and if he got sensual, he’d be too turned on when it was his turn in her. Gayle was hot. She was the ultimate in one kind of sensuality, the kind of the ice-age carved idols.
Somehow, the fact that he knew she was fertile now made her even sexier. He wasn’t sure that a fertile Sharon or a fertile Val would be sexier. But Gayle was the Earth-Mother, and making her pregnant was fulfilling this.
And Greg was doing his damnedest. If she hadn’t caught yet, he was driving deeper into her to plant her. And he wasn’t taking advantage. Gayle was driving herself against him, impaling her cunt on his spike. Tearing his eyes away from their laboring loins, he looked at her face. Gayle was looking almost pained, as though this was the greatest effort she could make. This couldn’t last much longer, and he began stripping in preparation.
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