NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                 in 
                                         FEVERED FALL

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                                          Chapter Two

         “YEEEEEEK!” I cried.  I had come home half an hour early from
school.  I’d come up the driveway humming a happy tune about Tommy the
Tugboat, who Told.  Tommy told about everything:  drugs, strange men in
the neighborhood, even parked cars along the curb that didn’t look like
they “belonged” there.  The song went like this:

         I’m Tommy, and I Tell!
         That’s why All is Well!
         I patrol the harbor,
         Nearer and farther,
         And Tell everything I see!
         Nothing gets by Me!

         Anyway I came into the house and there was my aunt, being
attacked!  At least it looked like she was.  My boyfriend, Brad, was
arched over her.  He was completely naked, except for his socks.  His
pants were tossed over the back of a chair and he was pounding on her,
with his hips.  His long, thick penis was hammering her repeatedly.  He
looked like one of those workingmen that you see in the street,
operating a drill.  With vengeful pneumatic-like strokes he thrust
himself into my aunt’s soft, shuddering body.  She groaned.  She lifted
her legs, as if trying to rise, but my boyfriend’s thrusting cock kept
moving in and out of her, pinning her to the couch.  She clawed his
back.  He swore at her.
         There were no kisses.  There were no sweet blandishments.  They
weren’t even hugging.  Brad was braced by his elbows, his face a little
above my aunt’s and his eyes alternately staring at nothing and shut
tight.  His hips did most of the movement, forward and back, up and
down.  His ass looked like a tight ball, both cheeks clenched hard.  His
penis was engorged and dripping with my aunt’s intimate juices.  Brad
worked it remoreselessly between her legs, as if trying to rip out her
insides with the long, plunging strokes of his organ.
         “Stop!  Please!  What are you doing?!” I shouted to both of
them.  Neither responded.  It was as if I wasn’t there.  Brad kept
pumping, my aunt, willingly or not, received his every stroke with new
shudders of her body.
         I watched as Brad climaxed and delivered his load of sperm deep
into my aunt.  She shouted, trembled, broke into screams.
         Somewhat red-faced, my aunt explained to me afterward what
they’d been doing.  
         “I’m helping him practise, dear,” my auntie explained.  She sat
next to me on the couch where they’d fucked and I, still in my school
clothes, sat between her and my boyfriend.  I rubbed Brad’s hairy
thigh.  I eyed his cock.  It was much diminished now.  Droplets of sperm
oozed from its tip, forming a pool on the couch’s brocaded surface, but
my aunt seemed not to mind.  It made me wonder why she was so worried
about my water balloons, when she didn’t seem to mind at all having boys
shoot their jism onto her furniture.  Near my hips, the couch was wet
from their tryst.
         “Why does he need to practise?” I asked my aunt.  I reached
between Brad’s legs and fondled his flaccid penis.  It was warm and
slick from fucking.  It felt strange.
         “Because,” my aunt said.  Her blush became deeper.  She was
dressed in a robe but it was open where her legs met.  With a flick of
her hand she covered her bush.  Then she shifted her hips, and the robe
fell open again.  I saw sticky stuff gleaming in the lowermost portion
of her pubic hair; Brad’s sperm.  He’d overfilled her cunt and it was
seeping out into her robe and perhaps onto the surface of the couch
also.  My aunt coughed, tugged at her robe again, then said:  “Because,
dear, we’ve been invited to a fuck fest.”
         “A what?” I asked.  Brad’s cock grew a little within the
inquiring grasp of my fingers.
         “It’s called a fuck fest, dearest,” my aunt said.  She reached
out and patted my head, stroking my hair.  It was the same hand she’d
used to pull at her robe and I squirmed, I didn’t want her putting
Brad’s sperm in my hair.
         “Do I have to go?” I asked.  
         “Only if you want to,” my aunt said.  She looked at my
boyfriend.  “Brad and I are going,” she said.
         “Well then I’m going too!” I declared.  “But I don’t want to be
fucked.”
         “What are you doing home from school early?” my aunt asked me.
         “I brought you a note about it, last week,” I said.  “Tommy the
Tugboat visited us and made a special presentation, about Telling, and
so we got out early.”
         “Oh,” my aunt said.  She lowered her eyes and pulled again at
her robe, finally pulling enough of it across her thighs so that it
wouldn’t slip off and reveal her nest when she moved her hips again.  It
was made of the softest, smoothest silk.  It was a robe from Japan, like
the Geisha girls wear.
         “Who’s Tommy the Tugboat?” Brad asked me.
         “Tommy Tells on everybody,” I said.  Brad’s cock grew bigger. 
It exceeded the scope of my hand.
         “Tell Tommy I’m getting another hard on,” Brad said.  He
glanced past me at my aunt.  I watched as his dick grew and grew,
spontaneously, like the vine in Jack and the Beanstalk.
         “No more, dearest.  You must conserve your strength,” my aunt
said.  
         “It’s not for another two days,” Brad said.  He shifted his
hips.  He eased his hand between his legs, clasped mine, and made my
small fingers close over his shaft.  Then he began working his hips back
and forth, holding my hand over his dick and making me masturbate him!
         “No, Brad!” my aunt said.  She leaned past me and slapped at
his hand, holding mine.
         “Why not?” Brad, naked and callous, asked.
         “Because I want you to do superbly, darling,” my aunt told
him.  “I want you to be the very best.”
         “God, I want to shoot again,” Brad breathed.
         “Auntie, he’s making me jerk him off,” I told Rebecca.  Brad’s
cock, fully engorged now, felt like a big summer sausage in my small
hand.  He thrust it along my grasping fingers, still wet from my aunt’s
cunt and eager to spend again, even if it meant shooting himself on the
floor.
         “Brad!  That’s enough!” my aunt said.  She prised his fingers
off mine and pulled my hand from between Brad’s legs.
         “Unh,” Brad grunted.  He seemed like a cave man, sitting next
to me, hairy and sweaty and with his big thing sticking up between his
legs, wet from my aunt and wanting more.
         “Brad, you’re getting me sticky,” I said, looking at my freed
hand, feeling the wetness of my aunt upon it, and the wetness of his own
loins, still oozing forth seminal fluid from his last engagement.  I
held my hand away from myself so it wouldn’t get anything on my blouse.
         My aunt regarded me closely.  She brushed my hair back from my
face, her fingers smelling of sex.  I wrinkled my nose.
         “Chloe,” my aunt said.  She peered into my eyes.  Reluctantly I
met them with my own.
         “Yes, auntie?” I asked.
         “I know Brad is your boyfriend, and I-- I apologize for having
him without asking, but I want the two of us to go to a party this
weekend.  Together.”
         “The fuck fest?” I asked.
         “Yes,” my aunt blushed.  
         “God, I need it bad,” Brad said, looking down at his cock.
         “He would look so fine,” Rebecca told me.  “So fine.  He’s very
good at becoming erect and at recovering from an orgasm.  I want you to
allow Brad to try his best at the fuck fest.  He needs to be full of
sperm for that to happen.  So,” she grinned, blushing.  “So even if you
don’t want to go, or cum if you do go, I want you to leave Brad alone
for the next two days.  Let him fill up.  Let him get really desperate. 
Then when we go to the fuck fest this weekend, he’ll be the champion
fucker.”
         “He’s already a fucker,” I said, turning my face and looking at
him.  My aunt caught me by my cheek and made me face her again.
         “Really, Chloe,” she said.  She peered deep into my eyes. 
“Really.  In fact, I want you to supervise him.  You know how boys are. 
Always looking for an opportunity to wank themselves.  Half an hour from
now you’ll both be out in the pool, playing, and he’ll try to rub
himself against you.  Or he’ll tell you he’s going to go use the toilet,
and you know what boys sometimes do in there, when they get really
desperate.”
         “I know!” I said.  “I saw my cousin Johnnie in the bathroom
once, and he was, like, sitting on the toilet to poop, but he was also
yanking hard on his dick, even though it was so big it stuck out over
the toilet seat, and the head of it was hanging over the floor.”
         “Yes, dear,” my aunt said.  “You told me that when you were
eight.  I haven’t forgotten.”
         “And he’s like, 25 too!  He shouldn’t be spurting all over the
floor!” I said.
         “So anyway, I want you to be a little bit like Tommy the
Tugboat,” my aunt explained.  “Keep an eye on Brad.  And don’t let him
get away with anything.  Don’t let him fuck you, don’t let him wank
himself, don’t let him do anything.  I want his balls completely full
for the fuck fest.”
         “Alright,” I said.  I grinned.  I liked the idea of superivsing
my boyfriend.
         “Now,” my aunt said, with a toss of her long, chestnut-brown
hair.  “It’s important that Brad exercise.  He slept late today, so he
still needs to swim his laps.  Would you please take him out back and
see that he does all of them?”
         “God, I don’t want to swim, I want to fuck,” Brad said, turning
and looking hopefully at my aunt.
         “Brad, I love having a man of the house, but here the woman of
the house is above the man of the house,” my aunt told him.  “I want you
to go out back and do your laps while I fix you dinner.  Then, after
dinner, we’ll read sexy stories, by the fire, to keep you thinking about
sex so your balls stay inspired to become as full as possible.  And I’m
going to make us eggnog too, because I read eggnog causes men to produce
lots of sperm in their balls.”
         “Augh!” Brad said.  He arched his hips.  “That’s what I don’t
need.”
         “And then,” my aunt said, pausing to lick her lips.  “Then,
Brad dearest, I’m going to put you in my bed and tie you spread-eagled
to it, on your back, with your glorious cock sticking up hard and ready
all night.”  My aunt slipped a hand between the folds of her kimono, and
rubbed herself where Brad had fucked her.
         “What if he needs a drink of water?” I asked my aunt.
         “Then you’ll get up and get it for him,” my aunt told me. 
“Because you and I, dear Chloe, are going to sleep on either side of
Brad, to keep watch over him all night long.”
         “He’ll be as desperate as a tiger by Friday,” I confessed to my
aunt, turning my head and looking at Brad’s penis.  It stuck up like a
spear, red and throbbing and obviously hungry.
         “Yes, that’s the point,” my aunt said.  “He’ll be raring to
go.”
         “You girls are terrible,” Brad said.


         I looked at my bosoms.  “Auntie!  My top is too small!” I
protested.  I had on a black bikini swimsuit.  Its cups held my nipples,
but little else, leaving the rondeur of my bosom-cones appealingly
naked.  I gazed at the whiteness of my breasts, set off starkly against
my more deeply tanned tummy and shoulders.  How embarrassing for my
bosoms to be so revealingly displayed!  And the little top only seemed
to emphasize my tits, snugly fitting over my nipples but not the rest of
my mammaries.
         The bottom of the bikini was worse.  A small, flat pouch, cut
like a slim triangle, lay smoothly over my dell.  The rest of the panty
was just a string.  It ran round my hips, holding up the triangle of
material over my pussy.  It connected to a thong in back that split the
cheeks of my bottom.  My sex was barely contained in the panty.  In
front, the triangle of material cupped the front of my labial lips.  But
the back half of my sex was left exposed.  The panty’s front pouch gave
out, halfway back along my sex, turning into a thong which dipped into
the lips of my pussy instead of spreading across the lips and covering
them.
         I tugged at my panties and tried adjusting them.  No luck. 
They still lay awkardly upon my sex, both hiding me and, at the same
time, separating me.  If I wasn’t careful the whole panty would wedge
itself into my lips and leave me showing my dell to all who cared to
look.
         “Auntie!” I cried again.  I fussed with my top.  “Why is my
bikini made of leather, auntie?” I asked.  “I can’t go swimming in a
leather bikini!”
         My aunt walked briskly into my bedroom.  She wore panties like
mine, with a bustier.  It was made of leather, and was black, the same
color as my bikini.  She was lacing up the front of it with her
fingers.  She wore gloves on her hands; long, opera-length gloves that
extended all the way up above her elbows.  Her bosoms, not yet contained
by the bustier, wobbled freely above its bra cups.  Her nipples were
hard.
         “Darling, don’t yell so loud.  Your window’s open.  Do you want
the neighbors to hear?” my aunt asked me.
         “My swimsuit’s too racy,” I told her.  “And I want gloves, like
you have.”
         My aunt ignored me and went to my closet.  She drew a pair of
boots from it.  They were made of polished leather.
         “Here, put these on,” my aunt said.
         “But auntie, you bought those for me to go riding with!” I
said.  “On horses.”
         “I know,” my aunt smiled.  “But I want you to wear them tonight
too.  Do you have a ribbon?  Tie your hair in a pony tail and put a
black ribbon in it, to match your swimsuit.”
         “This is silly,” I said, taking the boots from her.  “I look
like I’m going riding and to the pool too!  And in leather.”
         “Yes,” my aunt said.  She turned.  “Brad.  Brad, darling, does
it fit?”
         My boyfriend walked into the room.  He was nude except for a
zippered pouch over his cock.  It held him like a stocking, leaving his
balls free.  The pouch was made of leather, black like the clothes my
aunt and I were wearing.
         “This is the most ridiculous pair of underpants I’ve ever put
on,” Brad said.  “They don’t even hold my balls.  And in back, there’s
just this damn rope cutting between the cheeks of my ass.”  He tugged at
a leather thong splitting his bottomcheeks.
         “Yes,” my aunt said.  “They’re not meant to be practical,
dear.  They’re meant for show.”
         Brad flexed his arms.  His muscles bulged.  He looked at me,
then in my bedroom mirror.  He ran a hand through his hair, admiring
himself.  His cock stuck out from his body.
         “I don’t want to wear a collar,” Brad said to my aunt’s
reflection, in my mirror.
         “You’ll wear that, plus a leash too,” my aunt said.  “Go into
my bedroom.  There’s one in the top drawer.”
         “Damn, I look good,” Brad said, still staring at himself.  He
was lean and strong from his daily exercising in our pool.  He was
tanned all over, except for his buns, where my aunt had insisted he
cover himself so his ass would be “nice and white for our party.”  Now,
his bottom uncovered, it stood out starkly white against the trim tanned
lines of his thighs and back.  “I can’t believe you want me to go
dressed like this, with my ass showing,” Brad said.  “Are there going to
be other men there?”
         “Yes,” my aunt said.
         “What if some of them are fucking gays?” Brad said.
         “Then don’t bend over,” my aunt smirked.
         “Look at me.  I look like I’m going swimming, and horse riding
too,” I told Brad, sitting on the floor and pulling my boots on.  He
turned.  He looked down at me.
         “If your aunt weren’t standing right here I’d be on you,
fucking you so fast, you wouldn’t know what hit you,” Brad told me
frankly.
         “Thanks a lot,” I said.  I sat with my legs splayed, pulling on
my boots, and Brad looked between my legs.
         “That suit doesn’t even cover her little snatch,” Brad told my
aunt.
         “Such a pity,” my aunt said, leaning forward as she fitted
herself into the bustier.
         “It’s a disgrace for a girl her age to be outfitted like that,”
Brad told my aunt.
         “Punch me in my tummy, dear.  I’ve got to get this bustier on,”
my aunt said.  Then, seeing Brad seemed eager to do as she wished, my
aunt added:  “Not too hard!”
         I watched as Brad punched my aunt.  It forced the breath from
her and she yanked hard on the strings of her bustier.  It closed over
her.  She smiled, gasped.
         “Thanks,” Rebecca told my boyfriend.
         “Here, let me pull on those strings for you,” Brad said.  “I
can make your bustier nice and tight for you.”
         “Not-- too-- tight,” my aunt sighed, watching as Brad, his
zipped-up cock sticking out in front of him like a spear, tugged on her
bustier’s ties.  My aunt’s bosoms, enclosed now within the garment,
bulged soft and tempting above the bustier as Brad made it tighter. 
When Brad had tied off the bustier’s strings my aunt’s nipples could be
seen rising from the top of the busteir, the upper half of each fleshy
red disk showing, like twin suns rising.  One of her nipples popped
free.  I gazed at the wiggling point of her tit.
         “Ooops,” my aunt said.  
         “Here, let me get it,” Brad said.  He tucked my aunt’s nipple
back into the bustier as she watched.
         “You’re full, but when we come home you’re going to be empty,”
I told Brad, gazing up at him from the floor.
         “I know,” Brad said.
         “You’re going to spurt your sperm out at the party,” I said.
         “Brad knows that, dear,” my aunt said.
         “You’re going to make a deposit, like when we go to the bank!”
I said.
         “I’m going to get some much-needed relief,” Brad said.
         “I’m not.  I don’t need any.  I’m a girl,” I told him.
         “You may just watch if you wish, dear,” my aunt told me.
         “Are you going to get fucked, auntie?” I asked.  
         Rebecca blushed.  “I-- I don’t know, dear,” my aunt said. 
“Perhaps I won’t care for any of the men.  I don’t know who will be
there.”  She clapped her hands, as if to silence me.  “Let’s just enjoy
ourselves, okay?” she asked.  “After all, it’s the weekend!”
         The party was to take place in a hotel downtown.  A large suite
had been reserved.  The use of a suite for such an affair ensured that
nobody’s own property was involved; if anything went awry, nobody’s home
was on the line.  A person might get sued, but the police could not call
their home “a crime scene.”  I saw the need for this precaution shortly
after we arrived.
         At the door, we were met by a girl with an elfin face.  She was
blonde, with lustrous big eyes, taller than me but shorter than my
aunt.  She opened the door to the hotel suite and stared out at us, her
lips soft, her gaze inviting, but perhaps slightly bored.  She drew the
suite’s door inward, letting half her body be seen.  She was topless. 
She seemed not to mind that we had a full, perfect view of one of her
tits, with its rose red nipple standing up perkily at the summit of her
breast.  In fact, as she regarded us, she tugged lightly on the skimpy
bikini panties she wore.  She pulled at the front of them, as if her
small feminine sex found them too tight.  Or perhaps her cunny was too
aroused, and wished to be free of her panty.
         We were street clothes over our costumes, so they wouldn’t be
seen.
         “Are you here for the party?” the pouty blonde asked.  Her
liquid eyes scanned us.
         “Yes,” my aunt replied.
         “I’m here for the party too,” I told the girl, who seemed to
focus herself entirely too much, I thought, on my boyfriend.  Brad, in
response to the girl’s gaze, opened the top button of his shirt, showing
his collar.
         “Oh,” the girl said, looking at Brad.  “Please come in.”  She
drew back the door.  Rebecca pushed me ahead, I exchanged glances with
the blonde and she looked at me with snub-nosed insouciance.  I wanted
to stick my tongue out at her, but didn’t.
         “Right over here,” the blonde said, closing the door behind
us.  She pointed to a table.  I saw clothes hung on hooks in front of
the table.  A brunette was standing behind it, smiling.  She had on a
leopard print teddy.  Its plunging V front ran all the way down to her
dell.  Wisps of her pussy hair showed at the base of her teddy’s V.  I
gazed at her flat, nude belly, at the dimple of her navel.  How wicked
her teddy was!  Her bosoms were tentatively held, the cloth of the teddy
covering just the nipples, leaving all the rest to be seen.  It was, as
Seneca might say, “The sort of garment which revealed no more when it
was taken off.”
         (I read about Seneca for a book report I had to do; he owns all
the grape juice at the grocery store.)
         I felt jealous, having my boyfriend surrounded by such lovely,
scantily-clad women.  The redhead behind the table nodded to us and
lightly touched a riding crop lying atop the table.  My aunt turned. 
She began unbuttoning my boyfriend’s shirt.  As she did, the others
watched, and the leash connected to my boyfriend’s collar, hanging down
the front of his chest, inside his shirt, gleamed out at them.
         “Oh, he’s already been trained,” the spoilt blonde who couldn’t
stop tugging on her panties remarked.
         “A little,” my aunt said.  “You know how guys are.  There’s
always more work to be done.”
         “Mmmm, I love guys who’ve been housebroken,” the redhead said. 
She grinned at me.
         “He’s my boyfriend,” I told her.
         “You have wonderful taste, dear, but aren’t you a little
young?” the redhead asked me.
         “She’s quite mature for her age, aren’t you, Chloe?” my aunt
asked me.  She finished unbuttoning my boyfriend’s shirt and pushed it
back to reveal his chest.
         “Ahhh,” both females sighed.
         “Ohhh, such big shoulders,” the blonde pulling repeatedly at
her panties said when my aunt took off my boyfriend’s shirt.
         “And now for your pants, Brad,” my aunt said, kneeling before
my boyfriend.  She unbuckled his belt.  She unsnapped and unzipped his
designer trousers.  She grinned with delight as she lowered his pants
and showed the girls the leather sheath which held his cock.
         “Oh, such heavy balls,” the blonde remarked, seeing that my
boyfriend’s testicals hung free of the pouch holding his equipment.
         “Isn’t he fine?” my aunt asked the two women.
         “We must measure him,” the redhead said.  
         “What’s that?” I asked the redhead.  I pointed to a device
sitting atop the table, where she stood.  It looked like a miniature
gallows.
         “It’s a guillotine,” the redhead giggled.  “Every man who comes
to the party must put himself within it, so he can be measured, and to
prove his bravery.  And his obedience.”
         “What?” Brad asked.  Like a woman huntress taking out her
rifle, my aunt unzipped the pouch holding Brad’s penis.  He sprang free,
thick and hard and long and very naked.
         “Oh, good.  He’s been circumcised,” the redhead said, gazing at
my boyfriend’s equipment.
         “Ooooh, how naked he is,” the blonde said.  
         “Come over here, darling,” my aunt said to Brad.  “You must
show your willingness to obey by sticking your cock into this miniature
guillotine.”
         “Oh, don’t cut his thing off!” I cried.  The women laughed.
         “Every man must be measured before he can go in to the party,”
the blonde told me.
         I watched with horror as, impelling my boyfriend forward with a
warm palm on his bottom, my aunt made Brad slide his cock within the
framework of the miniature guillotine.  It was, I think, something made
to chop the ends off of cigars, but now it was being used for my
boyfriend’s cock.
         “It’s the largest model, but its still a close fit,” the
redhead said, helping my aunt work Brad within the twin posts of the
guillotine.  I stared raptly at the sharp blade hanging above his cock.
         “You must promise to be very good,” the blonde, sidling up to
Brad, told him.
         “Uh, sure,” Brad answered.  He gaped at his thing within the
posts of the guillotine.  His dong looked like a sausage at the
supermarket, put into a slicer for sandwiches.
         “Very, very good,” the redhead said.  She took a ruler and
measured Brad’s cock.  “Oh, God!  Ten and a half inches!” she
exclaimed.  “What a monster!”  She looked at Rebecca.  “We can cut him
down to size if you like.”
         “No!” Brad shouted.  The women giggled.
         “Just kidding, dear,” my aunt told Brad.  “Take yourself out of
there before something happens to you.”
         “Thank God!” Brad said.  Quickly he drew his hips back,
retreiving his erection from that awful device.
         “Let’s undress, Chloe,” my aunt told me.  “We can hang our
clothes on these hooks here.”
         I looked at the clothes of the other guests, already hung on
the walls just inside the suite’s door.
         “What if somebody takes my clothes?” I asked my aunt.  She
smiled.
         “Then we’ll just have to take theirs, dear,” she replied.  “But
keep your bikini on for now.”
         “I’m keeping my bikini on all night!” I assured her.
         “Can I put that, uh, thing back on my dick?” Brad asked,
looking at the pouch which had so recently held him, which my aunt now
slung up over one of the wall hooks.
         “No,” Rebecca answered.  “Men are to keep themselves vulnerable
and displayed at all times.  And ready for sex.”  She grinned.  “It’s
why I didn’t let you cum for the last two days, darling.”
         “He’s full!” I told the redhead.
         “How remarkable.  I’m empty,” the redhead answered.  She
laughed heartily, as did my aunt.  I blushed a deep red.
         “You have nice panties,” the blonde told me as I pushed down my
jeans.
         “Thanks.  So do you,” I replied.
         “Do you mind if I lick them?” the blonde asked me.
         “Huh?” I said.
         “I like the taste of leather,” she smiled at me.  It was a
seductive smile.  I felt a sudden impulse of feeling for her, like I’d
felt toward Miss Fredrickson at the office of Mr. LaCrosse.
         “Uh, no,” I replied.  “I don’t need my panties licked.”
         “Would you like to lick mine?” the blond asked me.  She jutted
forth her hips.  Her panties were made of black silk.
         “No,” I said.
         “I’ll eat them,” Brad said.
         “Okay,” the blonde told my boyfriend with willing eyes.  She
turned slightly and offered her hips to him.
         The redhead lifted the riding crop off the table and reached
out and tapped the blonde on her bottom.
         “Be good, June,” the redhead warned her.  She looked at my
aunt.  “June’s job is to make sure all the men stay hard.”
         “Oh,” my aunt said.
         We undressed.  My aunt and I stripped down to our bikinis and
we both blushed as the two women present gazed at us with frank
admiration.  I looked at a banner hanging above the redhead’s head, on
the wall behind her.  “Lilith’s Fuck Fest,” it said, in decorative
script.  It was a small banner, no more than three feet across, but it
sent a thrill of wonder through me.  I knew Lilith was the name often
applied to a woman who was very liberated.  If the men, like Brad, were
to wear collars and leashes, and the two women who greeted us were so
obviously interested in both me and my aunt, as well as Brad, were we
going to, like, be doing something together as girls?  Sexually?  I
looked at the blonde tugging at the front of her panties and licked my
lips.  How sweet and soft she was!  How submissive... yet challenging! 
She caused Brad’s penis to stick out very hard and red, standing there
fiddling with her panties, offering her hips so salaciously, and at the
same time she even got me, a girl, excited!  Fortunately Rebecca didn’t
allow Brad to take June up on her offer of eating her panties, allowing
me to keep my jealousy within bounds.  How strange to feel jealous
toward a girl, and hot for her at the same time!
         Clad only in our miniscule bikinis, with Brad completely naked,
save for his collar and leash, we were led by June into an adjoining
room.  I gapsed.  It was much bigger than the entryway where we’d hung
up our clothes.  There was exercise equipment scattered around the room,
as well as a buffet table with food, a couch, and pillows scattered
about the floor.  I saw perhaps a dozen people.  The men were all naked,
and exercising.  The women wore just a little, enough to tease.  They
stood around, or sat, languidly admiring the men.  Some of them snacked
on the food that had been provided.  Other girls simply watched.  Some
furtively fingered their dells.  
         I gazed with wonder at the sight of raw-boned, bare-assed men
working out on the exercise equipment.  They all had collars around
their necks.  From the front of each man’s collar hung a leash.  Despite
their bondage, the men acted like men in any weight room, working their
bodies, flexing their muscles, despite being attired like dogs.  The
girls let them run free in the room, not controlling them by their
leashes as long as they approved of what they were doing.  I looked at
the girls’ fetching clothes.  They were dressed in a way sure to fire
any man to perform at his very best.  One girl wore a mesh cami, with
white school girl panties.  Another girl wore a catsuit and a g-string. 
June led Rebecca and I over to a girl who was topless, with just panties
on, and long, black stockings.  She looked at us, smiled, and picked up
a bottle of baby oil.
         “Hi,” the topless girl said.  “Welcome to the fuck fest.”
         “I’m not going to Do It,” I warned her.  She smiled warmly,
ignoring my remark.  She reached out and with delicate nails pulled open
the front of my leather panties.
         “Ooook!  What are you doing?!” I protested.  Aiming for my
bush, the girl squirted a long shot of baby oil right into my bikini
bottom!  “Rebecca!” I cried.  My aunt laughed.
         “And now you,” the girl said, turning from me, letting go of my
panties, moving to my aunt.  I felt wetness in my bush as the girl
opened the front of my aunt’s panties.  Another long squirt.  A sigh
from my aunt.
         “Auntie!  She got my pussy all wet!” I complained.
         “Yes, and oily too,” my aunt smiled at me.  She accepted the
baby oil in her panties without protest.  When the topless girl was done
she aimed the bottle she held at Brad’s cock.
         “And now you, sir,” the girl said.  She fired the baby oil in a
long, shooting squirt against the reddened head of his penis.  She hit
directly against his pee hole.  Brad gaped, but said nothing.  He
watched with eager eyes as the girl proceeded to direct the squirting of
the baby oil all along and around the shaft of his dick.  When Brad was
dripping wet, she stopped.
         “Now you must go exercise,” my aunt told Brad.  She pointed to
the exercise equipment scattered around the room.  “Go show us your
stuff,” she said.
         Eagerly my boyfriend hit the weights.  He exercised with great
enthusiasm.  What a sight it was to see him working out with a bunch of
other young, strong guys!  They all were naked and had massive
erections.  We girls sat and chatted, watching our men work themselves
like a half-dozen Hercules, doing their labors in order to win our
love.  All of them had cocks dripping with baby oil.  If a man’s penis
dried off, a girl would step forward and give him a new squirt.  Always
it was just his cock that she aimed at, never any other part of him. 
How erotic it was to see all those penises, oiled and ready for whenever
we wanted them!
         “Would you spot me?” one big, strong guy asked Brad.
         “Sure,” Brad answered, as the man slid face-up onto a
weightlifting bench.  Brad leaned in over the man, his oil-coated dick
dripping down into the man’s face.
         “Sorry about my penis,” Brad told the man underneath him.
         “Hey, no problem.  I’m dripping too,” the man said.  He did his
repititions on the weight bench.  Then they switched places and I
watched with fascinated eyes as Brad, lifting hard, let the man’s penis
drip baby oil and pre-cum into his open, gasping mouth.
         “How do I taste?” the man asked Brad, when my boyfriend had
finished doing a set.
         “A pussy would be much better,” Brad replied.
         “We’ll get plenty of that soon,” the man said.
         “I hope so,” Brad said.  “I haven’t had anything in two days.”
         “Shit,” the man said.  “I haven’t cum in a week.”
         “You must be dying,” Brad said.
         “Be glad I didn’t jism into your mouth,” the man said.  “I’m
bisexual.”
         “Thanks for the warning,” Brad said.  “But I’m not.”
         “I’m anything,” June said, stepping up to the men with a bottle
of baby oil.
         “What?  We don’t need any more of that.  We’re already dripping
all over each other,” Brad protested.  Nonetheless June aimed at each
man’s cock in turn and liberally doused his member along its whole
length with baby oil.
         We watched the men exercise some more.  They worked like
slaves, eager to please us with the sight of their straining, bulging
muscles.  Each man tried to outdo the other in how much weight he could
lift.  Sometimes the men cracked gay jokes, or made lewd proposals to
each other.  I felt I thrill whenever one man, as in a game of football,
patted another man on the behind.  It was all in good fun, and yet, with
them all so hard, I wondered if they might not go down on each other if
they didn’t have us girls waiting for them.
         I gazed about the room.  How festive it looked!  Streamers hung
down from the ceiling.  Party decorations were pinned to the walls.  And
then there were the balloons, long ones, half-inflated, with penis-like
tips, because the balloons had each been filled only half full with
air.  It was all so pleasantly fun and erotic.  I tugged at my wet
swimsuit.  It was only wet where I’d been squirted with baby oil, making
me feel like I’d wet it myself, with my own juices.  (Which, I had no
doubt, I must’ve done a little of, looking at all the men.)
         June sat down next to me and leaned close.  “Do you really need
this?” she asked.
         “What?” I said.  Her fingers stole across my bra.
         “Ooooh, don’t,” I said.  But she plucked at my nearest bra cup
and lifted it, liberating my nipple.
         “Your tits are hard,” June said to me.
         “I know,” I answered.
         “They look so suckable,” June said.
         “Don’t!” I gasped.  June put her small, delicate mouth to my
nearest tit and sucked on it tenderly.  “Eeeek!” I shouted.  The other
partiers laughed.
         “June likes your nieces nipples,” Nadine, the redhead who’d
manned the guillotine by the front door, told my aunt.  They were
sitting together on some pillows on the floor, munching orange scones
and drinking tea.
         “Yes,” my aunt answered.  “More tea?” she asked.  She picked up
a tea kettle off the floor in front of them.
         “Thanks,” Nadine said.  My aunt refilled her cup as I watched,
gasping, as June licked at my right nipple.
         “Say, has a man ever lost himself in your guillotine?” my aunt
asked Nadie.  The redhead picked up her refilled teacup and drank from
it, sipping slowly.
         “No,” Nadine answered, in a voice that seemed laced with
disappointment.  “But there’s always the possibility, if he disobeys,”
Nadine answered.
         “How... intriguing,” my aunt said.
         “Mmmm,” Nadine agreed.  And, to my utter surprise, my aunt
leaned over and pushed aside the V of Nadine’s teddy, revealing her
bosoms.  The woman’s tits spilled out.  They hung nakedly, freely, in
front of her, the nipples hard and tempting.  My aunt drew back.
         “Oh!  I’m sorry!” my aunt said.  “I don’t know what came over
me, except you have such pretty boobs, I couldn’t help having a peek.” 
My aunt blushed.
         “There’s no need to apologize,” the redhead smiled.  She
reached out and began untying my aunt’s bustier.  It was a slow job. 
She was tied in tightly and the laces had to be completely undone.  My
aunt watched, made no protest.  I cried out to her again that June was
licking my tits, but she seemed no to hear.  Instead she stared down at
her own tits, watching as they were slowly freed from her leather
bustier.  When finally her mounds of flesh were revealed in all their
nude glory, Nadine bent forward and began feeding on them.
         “Oh, your mouth is like a baby’s!” my aunt sighed.
         “Mmmm, quiet dear,” Nadine said.  She slurped at my aunt’s
bosoms and my aunt bit her lip.  I, meanwhile, had suffered the
unveiling of both my tits, and June was making me hot by continuing to
pay the most delicate, sensuous attention to my twin nipples with her
tongue.  My tits were covered with saliva from her mouth.  I leaned
back, I sighed.  I couldn’t keep her off me, she was so ravenous.  Her
touch made me feel weak.  I reached into my oil-wettened panties and
diddled my slit.
         The men continued to work out as we girls played with each
other.  When June had tantalized me completely, it was my turn.  I fed
at her breasts with a lustiness I’d not know I possessed for another
girl.  My aunt went farther, actually undressing Nadine completely,
letting the same be done to her, and engaging the woman in a 69.  Their
sighs filled the room, as the men, grunting away, did their best not to
shoot at the spectacle of two girls licking each other to orgasm.
         Wicked games followed.  The men were gathered around a small
table.  Marbles were placed on the table and we girls supervised them as
they played marbles with their dicks.  The men used their oiled, erect
cocks to knock the marbles into each other.  When a marble fell off the
table, the man who owned it was given a slash on his buttocks with
Nadine’s riding crop.
         The next game involved a metal basin with champagne in it.  The
liquor was made as cold as possible, having big chunks of ice floating
in it.  Plastic rings were dropped into the water.  They floated on the
surface.  Each man had to lean over the tub, and attempt to scoop out
the rings, using his cock.  The men complained about the temperature of
the water.  They said it made their cocks feel as cold as icicles.  And
the liquor made the skin of their dicks sting.  We girls merely laughed.
         The last game was for us girls.  We paired off.  A long plastic
mat was rolled out on the floor.  It went from one end of the room to
the other.  Two lines of whipped cream were squirted down the length of
the mat.  We girls greased our bosoms with baby oil.  By now we all were
naked, and our bosoms gleamed under the party lights as we waited our
turn to play the game.  It involved this:  each girl competed against
one other girl.  The two of them would get on all fours at one end of
the long unrolled mat.  The object was for the two girls to race each
other from one end of the mat to the other end.  The first to arrive at
the other end was the winner.
         However, the game was not so simple as that.  It didn’t just
involve two girls, crawling like babies from one end of the mat to the
other end.  In addition to crawling, each girl had to lick up the line
of whipped cream that had been squirted in front of her, down the entire
length of the mat.  You can imagine how silly that looked; two girls,
crawling along like dogs, each one trying to lick up a long line of
whipped cream that very much resembled boys’ sperm!  At the same time,
each female had to push a ball down the entire length of the mat.  She
couldn’t use her hands to push the ball, though.  She had to use her
bosoms!  Fortunately the ball was greased, as well as her tits.
         How naughty that game was!  I raced against my aunt.  We both
crawled down the mat, neck and neck, busily licking up the line of cream
that had been squirted out for us.  At the same time, using just our
tits, we had to move the ball along.  My stiff nipples scraped the mat,
which fortunately was made of slick rubber.  I lost control of my ball
and had to crawl backward to the starting line and begin all over
again.  Fortunately, my aunt’s ball rolled away and she had to back up
and begin again too.
         With our bottoms well displayed, my aunt and I were tempting
targets for Nadine’s riding crop.  At first she didn’t bother us, but
after one minute of ‘free time,’ our bottoms were fair game.  She
cracked us across our heinies to inspire us to play more diligently.  I
howled; my auntie protested, but she and I were both so aroused by our
circumstances that we didn’t give up trying to beat each other in the
game.  The men, including Brad, watched us with aching cocks.
         The next game involved the basin again.  Condoms were inflated
by the men, using their mouths, and then tied off and dropped into the
basin.  We girls had our hands tied behind our backs by the men.  Then
they blindfolded us.  Two by two, we girls had to kneel over the basin. 
We had to try to pick up as many condoms as we could with our lips and
teeth.  There were an odd number of condoms floating in the basin and,
competing against my aunt, I managed to get out one more condom than she
did.  Everyone got to slap her bottom when she lost.  She howled.  I
laughed.
         How unusual it was, this prolonged series of games!  All the
men were randy and hard.  All us girls were “fit to be fucked,” as one
girl said, with our nipples all perky and our dells buzzing.  Yet we
played on, in the nude, loving the feeling of being so hot.  At last we
could stand no more and Nadine ordered us all to lie down.  She told us
we had been excellent participants at the Lilith Fuck Fest and sprinkled
us with honey, to make our bodies adhere more completely when we went
into the bedroom next to the main party room and fucked.  Then, with
even myself willing now, we trooped into the bedroom, and humped like
rabbits until dawn.  Brad was so horny he even stuck himself up the rump
of the bisexual man, though he refused to acknowledge that fact the next
morning.  But I saw it, with my own eyes, as a man did me from behind,
and I teased him about it on the way home.
         “I don’t want a faggot for a boyfriend,” I told Brad.
         “Humph,” Brad said.
         “Don’t tease your boyfriend, Chloe,” Rebecca told me.
         “Auntie, is sodomy illegal in Paris?” I asked her.
         “I have no idea,” Rebecca answered.
         “How about two girls doing it?” I asked.
         “I hope not,” my aunt blushed.   

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