At Your Own Risk free porn video

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"Mmmmm, I've been looking forward to this."

I pushed into her cunt, slick from the many splashes of cum that had been there before, and I wondered just why I had ever thought this would be a bad idea. But I guess I should step back a little before I get lost completely and give you a picture of where I'm coming from.

Maybe there's something about my family that makes us risk-takers; maybe we're just too stupid to learn from disaster. My father, now thankfully retired from his old job and selling insurance, used to be a steel worker. He's the most educated man I've ever met: still goes to classes at the university, and has a doctorate in toxicology. And yet when he got done getting that piece of paper, he and my mother moved to Seattle so my father could work on an oil derrick. All his friends from that job call him Doc.

I think the move might have been harder on my mother, but she adjusted to West Coast life pretty quickly, or so she tells the family. My mom's a hell of a woman: tall, athletic, and still beautiful as the day my father married her. I can say with all modesty that my sister and I definitely get our looks from her side of the family, and our father's total lack of propriety from his.

My sister, Becca, is a few years older than me, which used to matter when we were both really young, but now doesn't make a difference. We get along well because we both think alike and because if it weren't for her, I would have gone to an early grave, and vice versa. She has my mother's looks, but with my father's eyes: she's tall, slim but certainly fed well, with skin tan from running around outdoors all the time, usually wearing far less clothing than my mother would like. But what people really notice about her is her hair; it's jet black and wild, never content to stay where she puts it. I've seen her hair throw off bobby pins, a hair net, and even three rubber bands; it just can't be contained.

All of this, plus the fact that my sister is much more academic than I am, combine to give her a strange surreal quality that men can't seem to resist. She's never been lonely in love, but she never seems interested in settling down with a nice guy, or even a nasty one. She's always on the move, physically and socially, so sometimes I don't know where she is or whom she's with. Whenever I tell her to be careful she laughs and gives me a playful punch in the arm. She's definitely my father's daughter.

I may have some of my mother's looks, but my sister has me beat. I'm tall enough that the women in my family don't have to look too far down to see me, and I'm good-looking enough to stay out of my sister's shadow, but that's about it. My hair is my father's, boring brown which seems perpetually matted down. I used to try gelling or styling it, but nothing worked, so now I just wear hats a lot of the time and keep my hair very short.

Contrary to the rest of my family, I only like taking risks when it comes to picking which restaurant to eat at, so I've never been totally comfortable with the bizarre things they do. I even went to college in my home town, despite both my parents' and sister's insistence that it was important to travel. The only adventures I ever have are between the sheets, something which for a long time I thought no one else knew about.

It all started innocently enough, but before I was eighteen I had fathered two aborted babies and could mimic the orgasmic noises of half the girls I knew. I lived in the basement of my parents' home from an early age, and I thought my various dalliances had gone unnoticed. Looking back, I don't know why I was so naive; having two girls over at the same time and loudly fucking them both in the ass in turn had to have aroused some suspicion, and that was only one evening. My sister definitely knew before she went off to college, but she kept quiet about it, and in return I didn't tell my parents about any of her elicit activities. Knowing now what I do, I wish we'd both been honest with each other and my parents; they had done the same stuff when they were kids, and when they found out that my sister was smoking pot, they joined in. But that's getting ahead of myself again.

I don't know why I enjoy sex as much as I do, or why I love so many things that other people consider depraved. I also don't really know why I'm as successful with the opposite sex as I am; I'm a good lover and exciting to be with, but I'm only six inches and don't have looks any better than the next guy. I guess after the first few times, which were easy because the girls were just as horny as I was, desperation made me very blunt and totally immune to shame or nervousness. Not appealing to everyone, but the type of women I want usually go for it. You'd be surprised how easy it is, if you aren't scared, to just go up to a girl in the halls of a school or in a bar and introduce yourself, then ask politely if she'd like to get a friend of some gender or other and come back to my place and fuck. Hell, come back to the bathroom and fuck has worked for me.

I know long introductions like this are boring, but I was leading up to my favorite story, one which still makes me get hard just remembering it. It was how I finally came to understand my family and my place in it, and how my place in it became more important to me than anything else. It's a story which started the day my sister called me for the first time in three months and made a confession that started the avalanche...

*********

"Becca? Becca?"

"Phil, quit saying my name over and over again and say hello you dumb shit."

"Hello you dumb shit."

My sister laughed. "I guess I deserve that for leaving the door open. So what's up with you, bro? Been working, or just sitting around the house with a thumb up your ass?"

I told her about my job but didn't mention anything about thumbs up my ass, although the past weekend my favorite lady friend had put thumbs and other things up there. I mentally reminded myself to call her and have her bring her toys again; I'd never cum so hard. "So where are you?" I asked finally.

She was much closer than I expected. "You should take a break and come spend a few days here," she said invitingly. "I've got the greatest view in town and I know all the best spots. You'd dig my friends too; your kind of people."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Phil, let's just say I know a few gals who might make even you stop for a breather," she said, and I could hear the smirk in her voice.

"These are your friends? Usually that means crazies and wonks. I love you Becca, but your taste in people isn't what I'd call the best."

"What, crazy and wonky doesn't mean sexy too? Not all my friends are as bizarre as the few you've met. I know a few married couples here who are totally normal..." She trailed off.

"Normal? That doesn't sound like you," I snickered.

"Bro... I don't often say this, but promise me you won't tell anyone. Not for me, for them, because I wouldn't want them to get in trouble."

"Sure, sure, I'm like the grave," I said, wondering just what was up. Becca was right; she was hardly the soul of discretion herself and I can't recall her ever asking someone else to keep mum.

"The thing is, these couples are normal. Really normal in every way. But they have interesting leisure activities, you know?"

"You're running with gangs of yuppie drug dealers?"

"Funny Phil. No, I mean yeah, there's drugs involved, sure, but... they swing."

I knew exactly what she meant but I played dumb, partially just for the enjoyment of hearing her explain.

"Look, it's like when a bunch of married couples get together at a party and then trade off, you know? Wife-swapping, dipshit? These parties are like huge orgies of drugs and sex and all that, and they sound like a blast. They keep asking me to come, but..." My sister trailed off again.

"But what Becca? What have you done now?" I was concerned now, because I thought maybe she was really calling for help out of a situation. If that was the case then I would be in my car in five seconds tearing down the highway. Family bonds run deep.

"I told them my husband wouldn't be able to make it," she said finally. "They think I'm married. I told them I was because I didn't want to be set up with any blind dates. They think my husband is out of town on business a lot."

"Oh," I said, because that was all I could think of to say. My sister lying to people was hardly a new experience, so I wondered why she was telling me with such difficulty. "Well then, I guess you're not getting any action until you find a guy to be your husband then, eh?"

"No, I get action," she said matter-of-factly. "Just because I can't go to the parties doesn't mean I haven't convinced a few of the husbands that I was a lonely wife with no one at home to care for her. Don't worry about me."

We chatted about other things for a while, then she said finally, "Well Phil, I've got to go, so tell me you'll come down and visit. I won't take no for an answer, and there are gals here who won't give it..." She trailed off suggestively.

I was trapped; I did want to visit and I didn't have a good excuse not to. "I'll be there this weekend," I said finally, then we said goodbye. As I lay back on the sofa in the semi-darkness of twilight, I wondered if my lady friend was available on weekdays. Maybe just a quickie in a public place; that was sure to satisfy.

*********

My bags were stowed and we were sitting on the balcony watching the clouds roll before Becca said anything to me other than hello. It was early for liquor but she had a large glass of bourbon; she'd offered me some but I've never been a big drinker. We sat in silence for a while, me looking at the scenery, her staring into space.

"So how are you?" she asked finally. "I mean, how are you hanging in there?"

"I'm fine, I guess," I said, not knowing what the hell she was talking about.

"Okay, okay," she said slowly. Silence reigned again. Then she said, "I meant hanging in there as in without someone around to pleasure you."

I gave her what I thought was a surprised look.

"Look, you know I know, and I know you know, so why bother with the horse shit? You're my brother and you can't hide much from me. You're the randiest guy I know; thank God I'm your sister, or I'd have to watch out for you too," she laughed, but her eyes stayed serious.

"If you're asking whether or not you need to provide me with entertainment, I'm not a drug addict," I said without thinking, instantly regretting my choice of words.

"And neither am I, but we both enjoy life more with than without."

"Look, I'm really fine, no need to..." I began, but she switched tracks abruptly.

"How do you feel about marriage?" she asked me, taking a sip of her drink.

"It's fine, I guess. I don't really think about it much, not right now. Christ Becca, I'm only twenty-two, I've got time."

"Well, if you ever do get married, would you be like my friends?"

"You mean fool around on my wife? I don't think so..."

"No, I meant fool around with your wife. You know, swing? Assuming she was into it of course, would you be?"

I had to ponder this question a moment. It seemed easy to say yes, because the parties sounded like pure arousal to me, and I've always liked the idea of groups or strangers or being watched. Hell, I'd done a few things in that vein, although never with many people; it might be easy to pick up women for sex, but groups are a little trickier. Finally, I answered, "Yeah, I suppose. The parties sound pretty hot to me, and if my wife was into it. I would just worry a little about jealousy, you know?"

My sister looked as if she knew exactly. "But what if you could go to one of the parties and not worry about jealousy?"

I began to have prickings of an idea where this was going, but I said, "Yes, I'd do that. No strings attached."

She sprung the trap. "Joe and Melissa invited me to one tomorrow; you want to come?"

"I thought you said you couldn't go without your husband..." I trailed off as sudden comprehension flooded in. "No Becca, no way."

"Why not Phil? We both want to go, we both need a partner, we're both here. What's the harm?"

"You're my sister Becca. I may cross some lines, but that one..."

"Look, Phil, it's okay. We just have to pretend to be a couple, that's all. When you're at the party, you're not supposed to pair up with your wife unless you really want to; the idea is to try out other people. So we'd just have to pretend for a while and then go off and do our separate things. What's the worst that can happen? We've seen each other naked before without dying, and I think I'm willing to make the sacrifice of kissing you to preserve the illusion. It's just a little lie; no one will care, as long as there are a pair of us."

I objected, she cajoled. I cited moral problems, she reminded me of how fun it would be. I insisted it would never work, she logically pointed out how it would. In the end I finally grudgingly agreed, but I said that I was not going to pretend too hard. Deep inside myself, I was thrilled; what Becca said made sense, and it was no strings attached. The thing that won me over complete was her final words as she turned and went back into the house. "Come on Phil, take a little risk for once," she said with a smile and a peck on the cheek, and I wondered just what I was getting myself into.

*********

"Look, I never told them I had a brother and you look older than you are," Becca said as she and I stood in the center of her living room planning and rehearsing. "Just use your real name; it's easier for you to remember. And honestly I don't understand why you're making such a big deal out of this. I don't think they'll burn us at the stake if they find out we're not married."

"I'm not making a big deal of it, I just don't want suspicion to cloud our enjoyment," I said, pulling that nugget straight out of my ass. "I'll use my real name, but we need to practice standing together so we don't look weird."

"Jeez Phil, next you're going to be telling me to practice kissing you," she said with an unimpressed snort.

"Actually, that's not a bad idea," I said, and grabbed her and dipped her low as she shrieked in surprise. "Ah, ma cherie, I love you. Let us go to ze kasbah and make ze beautiful musics together," I said in my best Pepe Le Pew, then made loud kissing noises. She laughed and wrestled out of my grasp.

"Oh no, I could never love a man who fought for the Yankees," she drawled, "even if he is the most eligible bachelor in the county."

We both collapsed to the floor laughing. When the giggles finally subsided, she rolled over to face me and said, "See? You're being too serious about this. Let's just go and have fun, no worries."

"I still think we won't look like a couple," I said.

"Fine, look, we can let on that part of the reason we're doing this is because our marriage isn't doing so well, so we don't have to get all lovey-dovey. That will fit in with what I've been telling my gentlemen callers. Okay, Mr. Paranoid?"

That seemed like it would work, so we cut off our planning session and went out for sushi. As always, I picked the place, and the food was nothing either of us had eaten before. Then, at my sister's insistence, we went barhopping. She said she knew a place downtown where the best action was, and while I tried to tell her that I wasn't in need of action before tomorrow, she wouldn't hear it.

When we got there I could see why my sister thought all the action was there. It was less of a bar and more a club with drinks, loud music, and a capacity crowd dancing wildly. In the crowd were some of the more attractive women I'd ever seen, and my libido revived almost immediately.

"Phil, I'll introduce you around," my sister shouted, dragging me by the arm into the mob. We finally emerged into a more sedate area with tables and chairs overlooking the dance floor. "Phil, this is Cherise," my sister said, and I realized that the Nubian beauty before me must be my introduction. She was built like a cat, lithe and powerful, with a face which bespoke an animal magnetism and ferocity. Her figure was probably her most attention-getting asset; she was clothed in a skin-tight patterned dress which showed off all her curves, from her well-formed breasts to the swell of her powerful hips to the two round globes of her rear. Through the dress I could see quite clearly the dip between them and the fact that she was wearing nothing underneath.

"Rebecca's told us so much about you," said Cherise in a rich musical voice, obviously not perturbed at all by my gaze. "My husband Ben and I were looking forward to finally meeting you in person." She gestured toward the approaching figure of her husband, a large man who was obviously a former athlete as the muscles beneath a slight layer of indolent fat showed. His skin was lighter than his wife's, and the contrast between the two when they stood together made them both seem the more attractive.

"Phil, great to see you," said Ben, shaking my hand with vigor and a vice-like grip which further confirmed my theory. His voice was a shock after that of his wife, not musical at all but powerful and gruff. "Rebecca tells us you'll be joining us for supper tomorrow." He winked and laughed, and I smiled and winked back.

"And this is the hostess of our little get-together, Melissa," said my sister, coming from the bar with another woman in tow. Melissa was older than any of us, with a slightly matronly character to her. Her hair was businesslike, as were her clothes, and I could imagine her at home in any office on the planet. It was the way she walked that revealed a little of the hidden side; her hips and shoulders swayed ever so slightly with every step in a way which was instantly seductive for all its subtleties. Had I not known of her, I would probably have never given her a second look, my tastes running toward younger targets, but as it was, with her obviously fit figure and ample chest, I undressed her with my eyes as she approached.

"Phil, I'm so glad to meet you, and I'm so very glad you both can finally make it to one of our little parties," Melissa said, and she was just as unconcerned about my gaze as Cherise had been. Her voice was older and sounded like a housewife's from a Fifties sitcom, but coupled with the rest of her and her subtle aroma, it just served to make her more intriguing. "Rebecca, why have you been hiding him away from us all this time? He's quite the catch, even for someone as baiting as you." My sister and I both laughed a little, mine sounding a bit false to my ears, but as per our ruse that would only help.

I couldn't help but notice that both Melissa and Cherise were still looking at me with eyes that spoke volumes. Finally, the black goddess broke the silence. "Perhaps our quiet friend would like a drink?" she asked, and without waiting for a response she and Melissa led me away from my sister, who was busy in conversation with several other people.

"Cher, normally you know I wouldn't join you," said Melissa, who was making no moves to stop from joining us. "I wouldn't even be here; at my age you stop wanting so much noise in your life." She laughed. "But when Rebecca said she was bringing our gentleman friend, well, I made an exception, and I think I'll make another and have a drink."

For myself, I wasn't really looking for a drink; the first thrill of these two lovely ladies had left and now I just wanted to get away from them before they found me out. I've never been very good at lying. Plus, there were a number of very attractive alternatives in the crowd who didn't think I was married, and I wished I was with one of them.

Cherise seemed to sense my anxiety. While Melissa went to order our drinks, we sat at a small table, ignored by the others around us. "I know what you're thinking," said Cherise, and I stiffened. "Why are these two married women taking me away from my wife? That's all right. Just relax and enjoy yourself, and let Rebecca be Rebecca."

That, I was perfectly willing to do, because if I was with her, people might expect something I wasn't prepared to provide. "No, it's not that," I said, thinking quickly. "It's just... I haven't been to a place like this in years." That was true enough. "And I don't want to take you both away from your husbands; they might get nervous."

"Why, are you nervous that my husband will seduce your wife?" asked Cherise simply.

"Well, no, but..." It was true that I wasn't really worried about that, since for all I cared Ben could have my sister any way he wanted. "This is just awkward for me, that's all." I couldn't believe it; it was true. For the first time in my romantic life, I was feeling awkward around a woman. I shook myself and looked my psyche deep in the eye. "What the hell, who cares, live a little," I said to myself, then aloud, "But what the hell. I just have to ask you two questions."

"Will I be receiving interrogation too?" asked Melissa as she arrived with the drinks. I was disconcerted to note that she had ordered for me, a large glass of something which looked potent. But I took a large gulp just the same, trying not to cough as it burned down into my stomach. "Oh, careful, that's strong," Melissa said as I gasped. "I'm sorry, I should have asked, but from your wife, I imagined..."

"No, really, it's fine," I said hoarsely. "Just what I was looking for. I like a drink that bites back."

The two ladies laughed and sipped their drinks, and then Cherise returned to the topic at hand. "Well, what are your questions? May we both answer them?"

"This is like Truth or Dare," laughed Melissa. "I haven't been that young in a very long time, young man, so go easy on me."

"One," I asked bluntly, "should I worry about your husband seducing my wife?"

Cherise blinked several times with a matter-of-fact look on her face, then she said, "That's quite a leading question, don't you think? Do you know something I don't?" She and Melissa seemed to share a private joke and smiled briefly.

"I'm just asking," I said. "I don't know anything more than you do, probably less."

"In that case," said Cherise, answering as bluntly as I had asked, "yes. In fact, as I suspect you know, it has already happened on more than one occasion."

"How can you expect a young woman like that to live all by herself while you're away on business?" asked Melissa with a tone of reproval. "Surely if you're coming to our little party, then you don't mind."

"I don't," I said, truthfully. "In fact, I look forward to letting him do it. I simply asked to see if we were on the same page."

"I think we are," purred Cherise. "And before we stop this silly conversation and turn to more interesting matters, what was your second question?"

"Should Becca worry about you seducing me?" I asked with a slight grin and raise eyebrow.

Both ladies looked at me and smiled, and I didn't need an answer.

*********

Becca had gone off with other people at some point while I wasn't looking, but I no longer cared. I had little doubt she was currently engaging in a little harmless recreation, of one kind or another. For myself, I only cared about the one kind, and as the empty glasses accumulated in the center of our table, that one kind became more and more immediate.

"Another," asked Cherise with a smile, holding a bottle from which she was pouring shots, taking the occasional swig herself and sensually licking the mouth.

I shook my head. "Any more and I'll be on the floor," I said. All three of us broke into giggles at the rhyme. "You two wouldn't want that, now would you?"

"The only thing I want right now is in those pants," whispered Melissa with a sloppy kiss to my ear. Cherise seemed to be completely unphased by the liquor, while Melissa became more and more sexual with each moment. She wasn't drunk, by any measure, or at least no drunker than I was, but she had shucked her jacket and unbuttoned her blouse, exposing a lot of smooth skin and more below than I'm sure is recommended. She seemed bent and determined to find the dirty thing she could say to make me uncomfortable, but though I didn't tell her, she was in for a hell of a challenge.

While she slipped a hand into my lap and stroked my crotch in a way which suggested she was much less drunk than she seemed, Cherise and I gazed at each other. "I have a bet with a friend," I said, and we both giggled. "He said you were wearing panties, and I said you weren't. Do I have to give him the ten bucks?"

Cherise just shook her head with a smile. I was drawn to her lips, brown and soft and warm. I could imagine them doing various things to me even as Melissa's deft hands were slipping into my waistband. "I don't think he believes you," I said with a grin, feeling a feminine hand caressing my cock and feminine tongue running around my ear.

"Well then, perhaps this friend of yours needs proof," said Cherise with a low musical laugh. "Melissa, let the boy go for a moment and we can decide what our next course of action should be." I loved the way she described sex as if it were strictly business but at the same time totally pleasurable.

"Age before beauty," said Melissa, her hand still on my now-rampant member. I could feel her body pressed up against mine, and for a fleeting moment I realized she was probably twice my age, but that made little difference to how she felt next to me.

"Shall we retire to a more comfortable place?" asked Cherise. "That way, there is no need to choose." She took a long pull on the bottle.

"Now now, he can't leave without his little woman," said Melissa, laughing. "Besides, he looks like the type who enjoys a little danger."

It must have been my father's genes shining through, but at that moment she was right. I wanted a thrill. "What did you have in mind?" I asked Melissa, noticing as I did that somehow when I wasn't looking she had removed her bra and now wore only her blouse which barely kept her two beauties in. I could look down and see her nipples, standing out against the fabric, smaller than I expected.

"I said this was like Truth or Dare," crowed Melissa. "I dare you two to go out on the dance floor and get busy. That's the kind of thing you young folks get into, isn't it?"

"Melissa, I'm shocked," said Cherise in mock horror. "Surely you don't expect us to expose ourselves to the world?" She laughed again, low and sensual, and licked her beautiful lips with anticipation.

"Why not?" asked Melissa primly. "You're young and daring. Besides..." She paused and I felt her hand withdraw from my pants. "If a woman of my age can, then surely you two have nothing to worry about." So saying, she pulled open her blouse and I saw, uninhibited for the first time, her huge breasts explode from captivity. They were perkier than I expected too, with very little signs of the telltale drooping of age. Her skin was smooth and unblemished except for a few freckles which ran down between. I longed to bury my face in her bosom right there, but she slowly closed her blouse again and began doing up the buttons. "That's got you interested, hasn't it young man? It never fails."

"What do you say?" I asked Cherise, knowing her answer before she spoke. The two of us stood and walked, arm in arm, from the sanctuary of our table into the throng. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Melissa was following us at a respectful distance, but that just made me more eager to continue.

Once we were pressed against each other, both by our desire and by the weight of the crowd around us, it wasn't long before our lips were together and our tongues swirling around each other like snakes mating. Cherise was a marvelous kisser who made me appreciate just how much I usually missed by getting right to the point. But she was pointed as well, and within a few minutes she had my fly undone and her hand inside my boxers, skillfully manipulating my various parts in a manner which drove me wild but vitalized my endurance. I for my part had my hands for the first time on the magnificent globes of her buttocks, and they felt just as good as they had looked. Her skirt was short enough that it rode up on its own, and I merely helped it along a little until my hands were beneath and delving into the crack between. Her ass was covered in fine silky hair, and while sometimes hairy women were a turn-off for me, in this case it seemed natural.

As we broke our kiss and she turned to press that solid backside against my throbbing member, I got my hands around her thighs and hesitated on the verge of touching her pubis, which seemed to be throwing off enough heat to burn. "Go on," she whispered over her shoulder, and I slowly dipped my fingers into her honey pot. It too was covered in fine soft fur, like a cat, and once again I felt the litheness and supple quality of her body against mine. Then, as she moaned softly and pressed back more firmly against me as we gyrated to the rhythm, I slid a finger up into her cunt, the penetration causing her to shudder once, the first loss of composure I had seen from this African queen. She accepted my finger easily, her pussy well-lubricated by her juices but not sloppy; even her most feminine places were as enigmatic as the woman herself.

No one was looking at us, although we were often pressed together by couples all around us, and I know that a few people must have come away with moisture on their pants or legs from my fingers as I raised them to my lips. Cherise kept grinding her rear back against my cock, increasing the pressure inside me, as I tasted her on my fingers. She flowed like a sweet musky syrup, totally foreign, totally enticing. Before I knew what was happening she reached behind her, hiked up the back of her dress, and spread her legs a little, leaning forward slightly, arching her back and driving her ass against me.

"God Cherise, you... you're not like any other woman I've ever..." She simply waited. I took the hint, reaching down and guiding my pulsing shaft up between her thighs until it pressed against her hot opening. "You don't know how much I want this," I said softly, and she was like any other woman; compliments were like candy to her. I slowly pressed my hips up and forward, spearing her sensitive lips and driving my cock deep into her cuntal passage.

As she arched back against my body I could feel her interior change shape to accept me, a feeling I never grow tired of. For a moment we just stood there, in the center of this huge crowd of dancers, savoring the penetration. Then she tightened her feminine muscles on my shaft and by reflex I began rocking myself in and out of her, dancing to the driving beat of the music, intoxicated by liquor and the feelings. My hands were on her breasts, pulling her body close to mine, and she was grinding back against me, each tiny rotation of her buttocks sending shivers down my spine.

I don't know how long we stayed like that; my experience had taught me patience and a certain amount of technique, so I like to flatter myself to think that the two orgasms I felt rush through her strong body were real. Certainly her breathing sped up and her pussy spasmed, and I could feel moisture cover my balls. After her second climax she pulled away from me and for the first time I became aware that I was standing in the middle of a group of strangers with my cock sticking out for all to see. Strangely, this didn't phase me at all; if anything, it made me hornier. "You are enjoying yourself I hope," said Cherise as she turned back to me and pressed against me again, my hard shaft jutting into her belly like a knife. "But I think maybe you need a little more stimulation, because it has been nearly an hour and you still have not cum." I had been at it longer than I guessed; the liquor was slowing my sense of time in a way which, sober, I might have found alarming.

"What were you thinking?" I asked.

"This," she said, hoisting herself into my arms and wrapping her legs around me. I entered her passage again without effort, and this time the weight of her body and her spirited movements brought me quickly to the edge of the cliff. We were kissing again, but I found that I couldn't keep my mind on anything other than what was happening below. My hands were on her buttocks supporting her as she pressed down on me, and I realized that her skirt must have been up at her waist, leaving her lower body totally exposed. "I want you to fill me," she whispered in my ear. "Fill me like you fill Rebecca. Fill me like my husband is no doubt filling her now."

For some reason, the thought of my sister naked and being fucked by the huge black man was deeply arousing to me, as was the idea of her being fucked by... well, by me. It must have been the liquor, I thought distractedly, but the vision wouldn't go away. Finally, as I saw in my mind's eye Becca lying beneath me, her face in a look of beautiful shock as my first splash of sperm hit her womb, I realized that it was too late and I couldn't stop, so I let go and came.

I've always loved coming inside a woman's cunt; there's something about it which makes you feel manly, and if she's the kind of woman who cums with you, well then there's no better feeling. Cherise was one of those women; her pussy drank my spunk from my cock like it was a straw. The suction was incredible, and the spasms kept me on a plateau of emotion even after my own pulses of white-hot seed stopped coming. She locked her lips on mine as she kept coming, harder and more intensely than the previous times. She lasted so long that I was afraid my cock would be crushed, but when she finally broke the kiss and panted, laying her head on my shoulder, I was surprised to feel that my cock was hard inside her. The rejuvenation of a woman orgasming on your cock is something I've never understood but always appreciated.

Her legs stayed wrapped around me, my cock still thrusting up into her deepest space, now sloshing with juice, and she made no signs of getting off me. "Carry me back to my chair please, won't you?" she purred softly in my ear.

"What about your dress? It's up way past your waist now." This was true; her dress was up over the small of her back, and I could feel the taut muscles of her ribcage contract with each breath, her skin hot to the touch and covered in more silky hair.

Cherise laughed. "My dear, in this place, no one will look twice, believe me. Stu, the owner, has a strict policy that clothing is entirely optional on the premises."

I shrugged slightly and began making my way back to our table, Cherise wrapped around me like a small child. The only difference was that my cock was inside this small child and she was old enough to know better. When we arrived at the table I went to set her down at her chair, but she purred, "No no, I'll sit in your lap for a while. Don't spoil the afterglow."

Melissa was already there, and she laughed at this. "You'll have to let go of him some time," she said, her tone sounding very motherly. "Oh Cher dear, I'd forgotten all about that cute little butt of yours. Tomorrow we'll have to reintroduce ourselves." She reached over and stroked Cherise's backside with one hand.

Melissa and I locked eyes while she petted Cherise and Cherise pressed against me, inside and out. I was fully hard now, which wasn't difficult when one was inside such a hot wet cunt. "So are you going to want to dance too?" I asked Melissa with a wicked grin. "Or are you saving me for tomorrow?"

"Are you afraid you'll be all used up by the time the party rolls around?" she grinned back. "But I'm too old for that kind of shenanigans. I was thinking something... a little more sedate."

We both pondered this for a moment, then Melissa finally said, "Okay Mrs. Duval, I think you've had him for long enough."

"You always were a spoilsport," huffed Cherise, and truth be told, while I was looking forward to further fun, I was sorry when she raised her rear from my crotch and my hard wet cock slipped from her inner space. She pulled down her dress, dusted herself off, and aside from a slight faraway look in her eye, it was hard to tell she'd just been fucking. I looked at her do this, then remembered myself and gingerly stuffed my cock back into my pants, hoping the wet spot wouldn't be too noticeable. My erection pressed out, tenting my trousers, so I wasn't sure that anyone would notice a little stain.

"So what sedate activities did you have in mind?" I asked Melissa, eager to get back to business.

*********

"God, I remember when I was in grade school and we used to do this," giggled Melissa. "Granted, that was a while ago."

"It can't have been that long ago," I said with a grin.

"Why do you say that," she said as she hitched up her skirt.

"Well, for one, you haven't forgotten the technique, and two, you aren't old enough for it to have been that long ago," I said. A little flattery never did anyone any harm.

For that, I got a kiss, much sloppier and more intense than Cherise's skillful tongue, but just as enjoyable. The two of us were in a bathroom stall, me sitting, pants down, on the toilet while Melissa stood before me. Once again her blouse was open and this time she made no moves to shut it, letting me gaze longingly at her large breasts. She had shucked her panties as we spoke, and I held out a hand for them. She giggled, more like a schoolgirl than a woman her age.

As I took the silken scrap from her fingertips, the moisture held within wet my hand and I could tell immediately that Melissa was a wet one. She had been fingering herself for a long time while we talked and I suspected she had continued while Cherise and I were fucking on the dance floor, so there was quite a lot of her juices in the fabric. I held the tiny panties to my face, wafting her scent into my nostrils, relishing in it. She smelled quite different from most women I was used to; all I could think as I sniffed was that she smelled like a woman is supposed to smell, pure and feminine. I didn't have much time to ponder because Melissa wasn't waiting for me. She had hiked her skirt, much longer and looser than Cherise's, up around her waist, baring her sex for the first time to my eyes. Her figure was much more petite than her breasts and age would suggest, and her skin, apart from a sprinkling of freckles in interesting places, was lily-white and flawless.

"Now I'm glad I decided to shave this morning," she giggled, and I looked with approval at her shorn pubis, pink and enticing. "I don't want to give you too much; I want a few surprises for the party," she grinned. "After all, that's all that keeps young men coming back, is novelty."

"Well I can't imagine getting tired of you," I said suavely. I was in my element: in other situations I would have been terrified, but when it came to women and sex, I admit no master. The intoxication, brought on afresh by the shots we had done before leaving the table, didn't hurt either.

"Aren't you just the sweetest thing," she cooed, and the tone of her voice contrasted wonderfully with what I knew she was about to do. It was as if your nanny was secretly a stripper, and I was enjoying it immensely. "Normally I'm quite submissive, but tonight I'm feeling feisty. Must be the booze talking." She hiccupped dramatically and slurred her next words. "So I hope you won't take advantage of an elderly woman." I certainly would, and planned to. "I want it in my ass please. I won't take no for an answer."

Her bluntness rivaled my own, and I marveled. A woman who looked so respectable, and she was asking me to take her in the butt? It was more fun than I had hoped for. "Whatever you say," I said nonchalantly, leaning back slightly and raising my hips a little to give her a good look at what she was asking for. She looked and smiled, and while she was doing this her hands were dipping into her snatch, bringing out pussy juice and slathering it up and down the crack of her buttocks.

I gave her a questioning look and then leaned forward to put my own hand on her labia, dripping and warm. When I pushed a finger into her opening, quite easily I might add, she threw back her head and ground down on my hand with her pelvis. Soon my palm and fingers were covered in her warm wetness and I brought it back to my cock and followed her lead, lubricating the head and then working my way down the shaft.

"I love a man who knows what to do," she said as she stopped fingering herself and slowly, sensually licked her fingers clean. Then she turned around and I was able to see her rear. Like the rest of her, it was white and freckled, and here I could see a little age; her butt was firm but had some softness to it, probably from sitting at a desk too long. It didn't matter to me; I'm not picky when it comes to the ass, especially if it's being offered.

While I was gazing at my target, she backed up between my legs and reached around to take my cock in her hand. Her touch was gentle but firm, and she guided the head between her cheeks until it was pressed against the rosebud of her anus. She sucked in her breath like she was preparing to dive into very cold water, then she pressed back against me. My cock slipped into her anus with surprising ease, unlike my other anal experiences, and I guessed it was because she had been stretched out somewhat by a lot of assfucking. But as I bottomed out in her colon, she tightened her sphincter suddenly and the passage became as tight as a virgin, or tighter.

"Oh wow," I said, unable to help myself.

"You like?" she giggled. "I've had a lot of practice. My husband Joe and I have studied many different sexual techniques, from Tantric to Kama Sutra to coming up with our own. Like I said, it keeps them coming back."

I felt strange, sitting on a toilet talking philosophy with a woman while my dick was stuck up her asshole. Then I forgot about strange, or anything other than concentrating to not blowing my load too quickly. Melissa began to spasm her anal passage, sending wave after wave of pleasure through me. My hands grasped her hips and held her between my legs as my pelvis bucked upward, finding her rhythm and joining it. It reminded me exactly why I love anal; the anus and the pussy are two very different feelings, and I loved them both, but since it was a rarer treat, anal sex always thrilled me.

Soon she was raising her buttocks off of me, my raging cock almost slipping from her ass, before bouncing back down on me. I was thrusting up as she pressed down, as if we were trying to see just how far inside her rectum I could stick my cock. My hands were around her waist and down between her legs, and I felt a small sense of satisfaction when my guess was proved right as she came the first time. Warmth and syrupy wetness gushed onto my hands and down, out onto the floor. I worked my finger up into her tight-clenched passage as she gasped with each thrust of my cock into her ass, then I began pressing back against the wall of her cunt as my cock pressed forward into her bowels. The pressure was too much for her and she began gushing again, wetting my arm, almost driving my hand away from her pussy with the force of it.

All the time she came her anal passage was clenching and relaxing wildly, until as she gushed a third time the pleasure became too great for me and I released. My orgasm was intense as my spunk jetted from the tip of my cock deep into her colon. I felt as if I was thrusting through the wall between anus and cunt and pleasuring both, and from the gasps and moans I think she might have felt the same way. "Oh God Melissa, your ass... oh fuck that's nice." I couldn't even be coherent, my thrusts slowing as my balls drained dry and the pressure subsided. She was still coming around me and it prolonged the pleasure of my orgasm long past the point when I had stopped filling her with spunk. When she finally slowed as well and leaned back onto my chest, her eyes wild and deeply sexual, neither of us was able to speak.

Her sphincter had tightened around me, but rather than push me and the cum out it held my cock in place in her ass even as it grew softer. I could feel, for the first time, the liquid running down my legs and over my balls. "Hun, that wasn't as sedate as I planned," Melissa grinned weakly. "We're both a mess."

"But it was worth it," I said slowly, recovering a little. "You... you're amazing. If all the guests at this party tomorrow are like you and Cherise, I might die of an overdose of pleasure."

She snuggled back against me, the movement wiggling her butt slightly, which in turn wiggled my cock. Then she sighed. "I guess we should get back and see what the others are doing," she said, a little sadly. Her bowels released and my cock slipped out, not a limp as I had thought. In fact, almost miraculously, I still wanted more.

*********

"You two are a mess," said Cherise when we returned, disheveled and damp, to the table. She had been sitting alone, from all appearances, drinking heavily if the empty bottle and new half-empty one were any indication. "Melissa, you should have at least warned him about your enthusiasm."

"I like surprises," I said with a grin and a wink toward Melissa, who grinned back.

"There you all are," said a familiar voice, and I turned to see my sister walking up, arm in arm with Cherise's husband Ben and another man. "Oh, Phil, I'd like you to meet Omo. Omo, this is my husband, Phil."

Omo was shorter than I, with a sallow complexion but deep serious eyes. He was dressed entirely in black, which contrasted sharply with his shock of white hair. "A pleasure," he said, bowing slightly.

"Omo is from... where did you say, Omo?"

"I am from China originally, although my family is not Chinese," Omo said, revealing a slight accent, but one which was hard to place. "Manchuria, that is I believe what it is called in this country. My family is a long story." He smiled thinly.

"Omo was teaching me some Chinese," said my sister delightedly. I could well understand her interest; she loves learning as well as people from far-off places.

"Well, the party seems to be winding down," said Ben, looking satisfied. I could only guess at why; with my sister, it could have been one of several things. "Come, wife, let's get home before they throw us out." He didn't smile, but everyone else did, so I guessed it must have been his style of humor.

Melissa also took her leave, saying she had to get to bed before she fell over. I could understand why she felt that way. The three walked off into the mob, which showed no signs of slowing down, and vanished. "Well Phil, you look like you had fun," my sister murmured in my direction. "I told you you'd like these people."

"Yeah," I said, my eyes scanning the crowd. "Listen, I don't know why I'm asking, but do you mind if... I bring someone home tonight."

My sister shook her head with a wry smile. "Sometimes I don't know about you, Phil," she said. "You'd think those two would have been enough to tire you out." Then she laughed. "You know what the answer is. Go to it, cowboy. I'm probably going to bring Omo home, so we might as well make it a foursome." She laughed again, but I was a little nonplussed; the thought of a foursome brought to mind my earlier thoughts of my sister. I pushed them away.

"Omo?" I asked. "He's... not exactly who I'd choose."

"Oh really," she said with a grin. "He just happens to have a large quantity of high-class substances, that's all. Not the greatest lover sober, but with a little help..." She whispered this last. Omo seemed oblivious to our conversation. I wondered if these high-class substances were even now coursing through his bloodstream.

*********

I had no trouble finding a feisty teenage redhead named Kristin to accompany me back to my sister's place, and if Omo thought anything of his client's husband going home with another woman, he never said anything. Since I went home with another woman in the company of my "wife" I guess there was nothing to be said. Kristin wouldn't shut up, but I wasn't interested in her for her conversation. She and Omo actually got on quite well, leaving me and my sister to chat quietly.

"She's a little young, don't you think?" asked my sister pointedly, eyeing my prey.

"I didn't ask, but you're probably right," I grinned. "She has to be eighteen; they don't let anyone younger in."

"Well that certainly never stopped me," my sister replied. "I've been going to bars since I was barely old enough to know better."

"You want me to ask her?"

"No, dipshit. I just was saying, that's all." We lapsed into silence, listening to the prattle of my date and her new Manchurian friend. "So," my sister finally said, "you got along well with the gals, I could see. How well?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"I'm asking, aren't I?"

"Both of them. Very nice too. Melissa is quite talented."

"Both? Wow, you're better than I thought." My sister looked a little impressed. "I mean, those two are walking vaginas, but still..." She looked at me appraisingly. "I only had a quickie with Ben and Omo before we smoked, and you had time to fuck both of them. And now you're bringing this chick home too?"

I was still stuck on her previous sentence. "A quickie with Ben and Omo? Like what?"

"Since when are you so interested in my sex life?"

"Can't a brother show filial concern for his sister's well-being? I mean, Ben, sure, but with Omo?"

She gave me a reproving look. "Hey, no one's asking you to fuck him. Besides, for a discount it didn't seem all that big a deal."

"What didn't?" I was a little surprised at myself, truth be told. I had never been interested in details of my sister's coital exploits in the past.

"Fine, you give me the skinny on you and those two and I'll share about my night. Deal?" This surprised me a little too, since if I wasn't usually interested in her adventures, she certainly had never been interested in mine. I guess the excitement combined with our semi-altered states explained it.

I told her all about my evening, her eyes getting wider and more impressed as the story went on. She commented on my drinking and looked shocked when I told her about Cherise on the dance floor. When I got to Melissa however, she seemed less surprised. "Joe and Melissa have both told me about their 'practice sessions,' so I'm sure she was good. Joe certainly is."

"How good?"

"Let's just say that I called in sick the day after because I was afraid I'd look a bit strange walking around with my legs apart."

"Okay, so you've heard my story, now let's hear yours before our friends for the evening decide to join us," I said expectantly.

She seemed slightly reluctant, as I had been, to tell her sibling details of her carnal pursuits, but finally she began. "Like I said, I only had time for a quickie. Ben and I made discrete inquiries about the drug situation until someone pointed us in Omo's direction. Ben knew Omo so there was no problem, but Omo wanted to smoke up with us and I knew Ben was also looking for... a little excitement from me."

"Come on Becca, are you afraid to say he wanted to fuck you? We're going to have a really hard time at the party tomorrow if you can't be a little more explicit around me. After all, we'll probably have to be naked around each other and see each other... fucking." I'll admit, it wasn't any easier for me to say it.

"Okay, fine, he wanted his dick in my pussy, you happy?" she snapped, a little chagrinned. "But with Omo there I guess Ben thought there was no chance of that. We went out back to the alley - that's where we always smoke weed - and I was just about to ask about price when Omo mentioned that he found me very attractive and would I consider a deal.

"Well, the long and the short of it is that Omo wanted to watch Ben fuck me. He knew Ben well enough to know that Ben would do it, but he didn't know me and didn't know whether or not I'd go for it, being married." My sister paused for a moment as if struck by something, then continued. "I wanted to smoke before sex, but Omo wanted the show, so Ben took me roughly from behind while Omo had his cock out and was stroking it. After Ben pulled out, before I could do anything Omo got behind me and mounted me too. He's got skill, despite his looks; it must be some sort of Oriental thing. Anyway, then we smoked. For free too, and a lot of it because Omo got as stoned as we were. He must not be a very good dealer, or maybe it was just his night off."

The thought of my sister being fucked roughly in an alley by two men I didn't know turned me on, I won't deny it. My mind drifted to imagining her pussy, red from penetration, and deep inside her the mingled Asian and African cum sloshing around. It was difficult to believe, but I almost wished I could fuck her too, to see what she felt like. My cock certainly made this wish plain.

"You... uh, you're showing off a bit down there," said my sister pointedly, and I realized for the first time that my cock was thrusting the front of my pants out in a major way. I blushed a little and reached down to adjust myself. "Well, tonight certainly has been... exciting," Becca went on, still looking at my crotch. "I think to cap the evening off, you should smoke with us."

*********

I'd never tried pot before, but sitting in my sister's room in a t-shirt and boxers, I wasn't all that apprehensive. With me, in a circle on her bed, were Omo, Kristin, and my sister. The Manchurian was clothed only in what looked like running shorts, his wiry physique making me realize that perhaps I had been wrong about his quality as a choice to bring home. Kristin had on nothing but a pair of pink cotton panties; she had shucked the rest of her clothes the moment we were indoors. Her body was petite and weak-looking, her breasts small and child-like, and I wondered idly whether my sister had been right in her assumption about the girl's age. It didn't matter.

My sister had, after laughing at Omo and Kristin's unabashed nudity, removed her clothing too, to my shock. She was sitting directly across from me, her breasts exposed, tan and pert, wearing only a tight pair of shorts which revealed more than they concealed. I couldn't help but marvel at her physique, and I tried to tell myself it was simply pride at my family's genes. She was more slim than I remembered, but muscular in a way the Kristin was not. Whenever she took a breath, her chest rose and fell, the ribcage standing out under a layer of muscle, her breasts rising and falling as well, the nipples, small and brown, wiggling prettily. I could see why she didn't have any trouble keeping busy; had she not been my sister, I would have gone for her in an instant.

She didn't seem to mind my attention, her gaze focused on Omo, who was meticulously packing a glass pipe with what looked like a mixture of tobacco, marijuana, and the occasional pinch of white power which he told us was opium. "This is my special blend," he laughed wryly. "The tobacco stimulates, the opium depresses. I do not do this for everyone." He said this last gazing at my sister with a look in his eye which suggested that perhaps he would be asking for a little more payment later.

"Oooh, is it Chinese?" asked Kristin. Not the brightest bulb, certainly, but her body made up for it, as did her complete fixation on the sexual.

Omo gave a little half-smile and said something in a language I didn't recognize, then he continued, "It takes lessons from Chinese herbal lore, yes. I find it to be almost a medicine for me, and it is the only way I have found to enjoy a bit of opium without becoming addicted." I wasn't sure about that, but I said nothing because I wasn't really listening. I was feeling the rising pressure in my balls as I looked at the two beauties half naked in the room, wondering what they might be like together. That wasn't incest, I told myself. It was simply fascination with the female form.

Kristin kept talking about how she had never done opium before until Omo was finally satisfied with his preparations. He reached into a pile of clothes and pulled out a propane torch, which startled me a little. "This is the only way to get it hot enough that it truly works," he said with a wan smile in my direction. I didn't know whether he had brought it himself, concealed somehow, or whether my sister had one already. I wondered without any real concern whether or not she used it for other drugs as well.

As we passed the pipe around slowly, taking a drag and then handing it on, we moved closer to one another. I had pulled off my shirt too and Kristin was running her hands over my chest like a child with a toy. Omo seemed to have entered some trancelike state; he sat in the lotus position, only opening his eyes to take the pipe and torch. My sister had a dreamy look, which every drag intensified. For myself, my first taste of weed was unpleasant, and I coughed, but with each drag that followed I found my brain slowly slipping into a state quite different from the drunken giggles of earlier. I felt warm all over and my focus became very hard to maintain. It didn't bother me a bit that I was looking at my sister's crotch, spying the outline of her labia and wondering if she was shaved.

Finally, after what seemed like several hours but couldn't possibly have been, Omo announced to no one in particular that the pipe was cashed and set it aside. Kristin and I had already begun making out on one side of the bed while my sister looked on with distant interest. Finally she spoke. "Okay you two, good night," she said, obviously kicking us out of her room. As we both shakily stood, still pawing one another as if unable to let go, she was reaching for her shorts, obviously preparing to remove them. I would have liked to have stayed, but Kristin had other plans, so I heard rather than saw the shorts fall to the floor and as we exited, I heard rather than saw my sister lying back on the bed. "Come here, Chinaman," she said as I closed the door.

*********

I'd never done drugs before so obviously I had no experience of fucking stoned. I had of course had sex while drunk, and not just earlier in the evening, but being stoned was completely different. The redheaded girl I barely knew and I took a long time simply feeling one another all over, not even concentrating on the usual erogenous zones. I was amused to discover that Kristin went wild when I played with her belly button, and she in turn discovered my secret ticklish spot behind my knees. Our motions were slow but I had full possession of my ability to experience her body and her touch, and when I finally got to her pussy and began eating her out, her taste, young and fresh, came through much more strongly than I'm sure it would have if I had been sober.

The time passed slowly, as if we were separate from the universe, and I felt I could have simply tongued her clitoris for hours without tiring. She came noisily and oozed onto my tongue, her hands clenched beside her, her head thrown back, mouth open, eyes wide, as she moaned meaningless syllables. I was enjoying this immensely, spreading her labia wide with my fingers and licking up from her asshole to her clit, keeping her orgasm going wave after wave, until she finally relaxed and panted exhaustedly, her body slick with sweat, beads of it running down her chin and pooling between her small breasts.

In the new silence I could hear, in the next room, rhythmic creaking as Becca and Omo shook the bed in whatever position they had taken. Suddenly I had to fuck the young girl lying panting beneath me, and I pulled myself up her body to look her in the eye. "I... I have to tell you something," she said, with a look of nervousness in her face.

"What baby?" I said, nuzzling her cheek, taking her earlobe into my mouth and sucking as I lay on her body, my cock drooping just below her cunt.

"I... I'm not... I mean, I haven't... done this before," she confessed, haltingly. "None of it, the drugs or this, none of it. I wasn't even supposed to be in that place. My parents would kill me if the found out I was going home with strange men. I... I just wanted..."

I kissed her lips, silencing her, as I looked into her eyes. For the first time I saw a frightened girl there, although she was obviously still very stoned. "Honey, if you want, we can just snuggle up and go to sleep," I said, a small spark of compassion bursting into a flame of remorse. "I don't want to hurt you. I just... well, I just wanted someone to sleep with me tonight."

Tears were in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said, sobbing, the drugs removing any control from her. "You don't want me, do you?"

"No, no, I want you, really," I said, not really thinking, my libido taking over. "I need you. I'm going crazy over you." I kissed her again, wiped her tears from her eyes.

"I'm really stoned," she giggled suddenly. "I can't believe I'm lying here naked with you. I can't believe... God I'm stoned."

"Me too," I admitted. "I've never done that before, if it makes you feel better. But I want you, bad." I couldn't stop telling her that, hoping to convince her, because in truth I would have done just about anything for someone to fuck right then.

"Okay," she giggled nervously. "Do it then. I'm too fucked up to care." I could tell that wasn't true; her eyes revealed the lie, but I really was too fucked up to care. I kissed her again with a smile, my cock jumping for joy.

As I positioned myself between her legs, she was shivering slightly, and a small part of my brain told the rest of me to be gentle. How well that message got through is a matter for debate. As my cockhead probed between her labia, slowly finding her opening, she fidgeted, though whether from nerves or from sensitivity I don't know. I could hear my sister in the next room moaning, which didn't do anything to lower my