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Separating The TwinsChapter 3 free porn video
In a technical sense I suppose it could be considered an orgy. We were a bunch of people who were in a room having sex with each other, and switching partners. Most sex acts are just two people in private, but for whatever reason we liked to watch as well as do it. The other reason, of course, was that when you were done with someone, you could almost always find another partner.
Now in our little patch of Georgia (near the state lines of Tennessee and Alabama, we had two parties. The one on Saturday nights involved our parents. You could watch your Mom and Dad doing it with different people. A lot of kids had a problem even conceptualizing their parents having sex, though it happened, and you never thought of them having a different partner. That quickly faded away, or got sharply changed, the first time you saw your Dad shoot his load into someone's mouth, or come all over someone's boobs. For a girl there was the shock that your Dad had a cock. Suddenly he wasn't just your Father, he was a Man.
Now you may have seen your Mom's boobs when growing up. You may have walked in on your mother when she was trying on some clothes or something, but girls can handle another woman's partial nudity under the right circumstances. What's harder to accommodate is watching your next door neighbor coming on her face, or seeing someone you didn't know (yet) doing it with her, and when he pulled out see the tell-tale white drips of come leaking from her pussy.
Liz and I had observed the parties for several weeks before we turned 16 and were allowed to participate. We (later just me) got to be on the receiving end of a guy coming on our boobs or in our mouth. Being the "new girls" we were quite popular with the guys, and had sex with men who'd been attending the parties for months or years, and we got a lot of experience.
The Wednesday night parties were for the kids, sons and daughters of the adults who partied on Saturday night. Partly this was done as cover. People talked about teenage girls who didn't date on Saturday night. Now I had a boyfriend who was absent, and everyone knew it. I still had the occasional date, but everyone knew it wasn't serious. What they didn't know was that it was usually with one of the boys in the group who partied on Wednesday nights. Sometimes we'd stop by the adult party, sometimes we'd just do the regular teenage date things.
The first time we'd partied without the adults had been a bit awkward. One of two of the adults would start the festivities, but we'd soon gotten things figured out. So on this Wednesday we got together, visibly chaperoned by a couple who we might party with on Saturdays. Clothes would soon start peeling away. Kisses and caresses would be exchanged, and soon we would be wet and the boys would be hard. Then the usual things would happen at a party like this.
After an evening of making hard things limp and exchanging bodily fluids, we'd shower and gradually put ourselves back together again. We'd make our way home and fall into an exhausted sleep. The next day we'd have to keep a straight face when a girl talked with her regular boyfriend. He didn't know that the night before she'd had sex with three boys, two of them who came in her. The guys didn't have it any better. They'd be holding hands with a girl, and she had little or no idea that he'd been sucking on the boobs of a girl standing nearby while she rode his cock to a squealing completion. Our parents had taught us to separate our love life from our sex life, and we did. Now what would happen in the future was anyone's guess, but we'd see what happened when that occurred.
Now I don't know what, if anything, the boys said when there were just the other guys around. We girls were expected to share every detail about our most intimate lives, and we didn't. I know from personal experience that every girl who probed got the usual answer. We'd sucked a guy off, or maybe just a hand job. Every girl either did it, or was accepting of it. If you admitted to any sexual activity, going topless, or at least opening your blouse, was acceptable. There was a line, and every girl was familiar with it: you kept your pants on. Of course that line blurred and more or less vanished after the Prom, but you at least faked being true to it.
You never, ever, under the slightest circumstances, admitted to doing anything with an adult except gazing from a distance. I, for instance, came in for absolutely no condemnation for gazing at a coach who was doing weight drills with the wrestling squad, and admitting that I'd certainly like to see more of his shoulders, too bad he was wearing a tee-shirt.
The Principal happened to be standing next to me when I said that, and she had no complaint. The coach was dressed, and staring at a man's muscles was a female thing. At least I wasn't suggesting a desire to get naked and sweaty with him.
I'd actually had sex with one of my teachers, Dale Robertson. That had been an accident, but she and I had somehow hit it off, and every couple of weeks we would spend an hour or so happily licking, fingering, kissing, and so on. I preferred my partners to be hard, but there were times I was in the mood for something soft. Besides, she didn't mind my licking come off of her boobs, and I didn't mind when she returned the favor.
We'd gone farther than cleaning each other up that way. I was using my tongue to tease her clit (and she was doing the same) when her husband did me from behind. She cleaned up the leavings of his passion. A guy did her, and I sort of sucked his balls a little while he did it, and then licked his leavings up afterward. Only later did I learn that the man doing her was my Dad, the closest I came to breaking that ancient human taboo. At the time I was more concerned with getting every drop and getting Dale off.
Now it shouldn't be your own Dad, but every girl should really get a close-up view of the action. Cocks buried in someone's pussy look a lot different if they're only jutting out in the free air. You imagine what it's feeling like, and you see as he drags her lips over her clit, feel the quiver of her muscles as he slides in, and if you're lucky, see the increase of juices flowing out of her as she climaxes. You will see some of his come, especially when he pulls out. Of course unlike a porno movie, he would have been as deep in her as he could when he popped, so you might not see much of his stuff.
When a guy pulls out before he comes, that's when you see the differences in how guys come. In some cases it sort of wells up. In others you get this one big spurt that can be really powerful (I've had guys shoot it well over my face). Blackwell, sometimes called 'Blaster Blackie' by the women, could put a solid stream of white come a couple of feet in the air. The first time he did it to me I'd been on top, really sitting on his lap, when it was his time. He'd pulled out, and his first two jets of come hit my face!
"You need to open wider," he joked as I wiped it up.
The rest of his load had hit the underside of my boobs and spattered my tummy. Now with some guys their load is thin and runny, while with others its thick and creamy. Some leave discernible streaks on your skin, while others scatter drops everywhere. It's a fun thing to find out, and every girl or woman who parties sort of has to experiment.
One of the things that happens at a party is that some of these guys who pull out to come will end up scattering their come all across the room. There were several guys who could shoot it even farther. I was at Jodie's when one of the teenage boys shot it into the air, where it came down as scattered drops all over everyone who was using the floor. The first time it happens you're startled, but soon it's just one of those things.
Why this emphasis on come? Guys get preoccupied with it. You see it all of the time in porno movies because it is the proof that the guy came. There really isn't any obvious reaction that shows a girl has, which is a shame. But this highlights one point: a girl gets more interested in the process, not the end-result. But come is a fact of life at these parties, and girls have to learn to deal with it. A lot of us become expert at the mechanism of coming, and how best to get a guy to pop. It only stands to reason that we'd appreciate some of the nuances of the male orgasm, and the results it produces.
One of the guys let on that guys do Kegel exercises, too, and it helps when they shoot. I'd thought it was just something a girl practiced. Kegel exercises tone the muscles down there. That helps when she gives birth—Mom told me it really helped when she was pushing Brad out into the world—but it also helps when she's having sex. Those muscles squeeze when a woman climaxes, and if they're powerful enough, a guy can feel them. They like that. If a girl practices and learns to consciously control those muscles, she can tighten them as a guy thrusts in, and relax when he starts to pull back. That really feels good. I had more than one guy look surprised when I clamped down on his welcome hardness, and it made them feel even bigger than they were.
None of this flashes through your mind when you're in the middle of a party. You're too busy doing it with some guy, your legs wrapped around him, your hands clutching his shoulders or arms, and savoring every thrust as the guy kept putting it into you, drawing partway out, and putting it in all over again.
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