Group Sex Lusty Lynn - Sexy Biker Nurse

Whatever plan was now brewing in Stevie's mind, it would have to wait. He soon found himself standing before a pair of bikes, revving and snorting like wild metallic beasts and filling the air with noise and exhaust fumes. Anita sat astride Spike; a rather nubile nude Nori seated behind her, (hugging the formidable naked BBW biker gal close). Next to them were an equally stark naked Lynn and Cowboy Motherfucker atop Lynn's sleek Harley; the clad guitarist himself pulled up dangerously close to Lynn who wore only her leather jacket for the occasion.

Through her molly-induced haze, Lynn was conscious of Cowboy Motherfucker's hands roaming up and down inside her jacket; tweaking her nipples and groping her snatch; his big tube steak ding dong rested against her rump like a warm throbbing tree blown over in the wind. She was aware and yet that fucking haze made it all feel like such fevered dream. What happened next seemed even more like a surreal sleepwalking episode for her; her mind barely registering it all and yet at the same time being totally aware. It was Lynn and yet not Lynn; completely detached from the reality playing out, and yet very much a part of it. The truth was she was spiraling higher and higher into the stratosphere on this demonic batch of molly and the drug had the damndest of timing; just as this race was set to begin.

What she can recall of the event is she saw Stevie raise his arm and shout something totally inaudible over the roaring bike snorts. In his hand he'd a red bandana, flapping in the breeze. She saw him now spring into the air; a naked young man with his mane of rocker hair flipping skyward along with the red rag in a great leap, then all swooping down as he hollered,

"GOOOOO!"

Now Lynn felt herself rush forward, a blast of pipes in her ears drowning out all thought and reason. She later remembered Anita and Nori riding Spike right there beside her 'n Cowboy as she closed the distance across the parking lot to the open doors of the hotel; the night desk employees showing only the tops of their heads above the counter as they hid behind the immense console. She didn't notice them, but instead rushed on through the entrance with Anita tightly holding position alongside. Both bikes barreled through the open empty lobby as two giggling stoners politely shut the hotel doors behind them. The hands of two more stoners whipped open the doors to the staircase alcove as both bikes entered and mounted the first jarring steps.

Immediately the blaring explosion of sound met Lynn's ears in the echoing chasm of the stairwell. If it had been loud in the lobby, it seemed five times that in that dark hollow chamber illuminated only by emergency exit signs. The front wheels of both motorcycles rose and rear wheels dug their way forward in a demonic thubbah thubbah thubbah over the first of the stairs upward.

Upward - now that's a laugh. For any normal person under normal conditions upward was ...well, UP. In Lynn's condition, "up" was a bit of a construct... an abstraction; bent with her perception of time and space. No matter, she merely kept the front wheel straight and surged straight ahead, thubbah thubbah thubbah! She was aware of the other motorcycle dangerously close to her and yet fear was absent from the fog of her mind... like she'd given up fear forever. She was also aware of the jarring jolt of each of the steep steps banging on her bike from below; making her teeth happily rattle; however there was a new jolt that registered in the back of her mind - A COCK!

A schlong of immense proportions had found its way up her cunt behind; its owner none other than Cowboy Mother fucker himself. Wisely he was now simply hanging on for dear life and instead of humping away at Lynn's insides, he was just letting the stairs and bike wheels do the work for him. As I mentioned before, Rocketship is a helluva drug.

"YES! FINALLY!" Lynn's wicked little heart sang out.

There was no time for celebration of any kind though, for the first landing was beneath their wheels almost instantly, followed by an impossible turn left and another incline of steps, (at the top of which another stoner was helpfully pointing the racecourse ahead, up and to the left). Through her Molly fog Lynn urged her bike up and up, at break-neck speed; Anita right at her flank with Nori holding on tight to the big beautiful woman captaining Spike. The bikes surged ahead and climbed.

Up onto the second-floor landing and up the stairs they sped, Anita pulling ahead and blasting a cloud of exhaust into the faces of Lynn and Cowboy. For a brief instant Lynn's eye caught sight of Nori upon the back of the bike ahead, her bottom having sunk down upon the fake dong and buttplug combination on the Honda Shadow's rear seat. It dawned on Lynn that the young woman hugging Anita's waist was actually riding with the customized bike-toys plugging both twat and anus, oblivious to any pain she might have felt due to the molly's embrace. Lynn herself might have been awestruck by the sight, had she not been equally intoxicated. Instead, however, she could only think of pressing her own bike forward; gritting her teeth and holding on for dear life as her bike clawed up the stairs; Cowboy Motherfucker's massive dong stab-stab-stabbing her twat with each bump of the wheels the whole way!

At the midway landing between the second and third floors Anita steered Spike wider than she'd anticipated. She slowed the turn and lost momentum, barely missing the stairwell wall. Seeing the opening provided by Anita's struggles to just keep things upright, Lynn cut inside the turn at the landing and cut the tighter turn, surging ahead once more the lead.

Lynn's Harley clawed and dug at the stairs in a deafening roar as the third floor landing loomed closer and closer, a grinning stoner standing at the top waiving both bikes forward and holding the door open to the third-floor corridor. The Harley hurtled up the last few feet, gained the landing, and flew through the open doorway, Anita and Nori on Spike close behind. Both bikes were now in the hall and tearing down the third floor of the hotel towards the unsuspecting revelers of the Presidential Suite. With a snorting blast of pipes the pair of cycles raced on as the deafening roar from both engines filled the hall.

It was now as the commotion shot away from the third-floor landing leaving blue exhaust in its wake, that the door opened to room number 332, (just opposite the stairwell exit). Two pairs of eyes atop two heads (one brunette and one blonde), atop two sets of naked shoulders peered from around the safety of the door and down the hallway in the direction of the receding mayhem. They belonged to none other than Annette Bishop and her lesbian lover Amanda.

"What is all the commotion and noise about, darling? That certainly seems to be one hell of a party going on down the hall," Amanda remarked to her lovely raven-haired soulmate.

"Mehhh," replied Annette disdainfully, "this is the LAST time we stay at this hotel. It's absolute bedlam out there!"

Annette turned and pulled the nude form of the curvy short blonde up close to her own nakedness. For a moment she scrutinized the features of the high cheek boned shorty with the lovely bubble-butt. A look of sexual hunger washed over Annette's face as she first peered into the beautiful pools of Amanda's dreamy eyes and then to the young man and woman back on the bed, her two interns Brad and Shelby... her "cubs."

"Let's make a little more noise and commotion of our own!" Annette suggested to all present before she shut the door behind her with a click of the security lock, the DO NOT DISTURB sign swinging merrily on the outside handle.
​

***​

Oblivious to the goings on back in Room 332, Lynn had antics of her own to attend to. She had her hands full of thundering Harley and it was all she could do to stay ahead of Anita on Spike and keep the bike upright, (to say nothing of the stabbing Cowboy Motherfucker was giving her entrails at the moment). The fuckin molly wasn't being much help either. Oh, it was making her absolutely fearless, but it was a damned narrow hallway, and it was not one but TWO bikes trying to squeeze down through it at breakneck speed.

Now with the door to the Presidential Suite pulled open at least Lynn had a target to aim for, (if she could sufficiently slow to negotiate the turn). She was nearing the entrance to the door. Now of all the damnable luck, the molly in its fiendish devilry took full control of her mind, (and JUST as she needed all her senses to be keen). She made it through the open doorway that much was true, but here's where things got rather hazy.

To this day her mind recalls the blast of her bike's pipes within the confines of the Presidential Suite, and the chorus of screams from the throng of naked partiers; some howling with laughter, a few shrieking in startled terror while all lunged and dove to get out of the way. Furniture tipped over and drinks flew through the air as if the bikes were kicking up a wake of humans and objects as they passed. It was perfect pandemonium in the Presidential Suite!

In the center of the entryway to the room, Vince the sleazy pot-bellied band manager chomped away on a new cigar in his teeth as he sawed away furiously at the innards of a buxom long-haired floozy, he'd just met ten minutes prior. Despite his chemical impairment he was able to react at the sudden arrival of the bikes, hoisting both the girl and her massive melon-boobies safely out of the way of the racers, (and without so much as having to remove his coarse veiny cock from her coochie). As the bikes roared past, he waved a foggy but gallant acknowledgement to both riders. He continued with a ride of his own; that oblivious bouncing girl laughing with delight upon his shaft, (and not knowing just how close she'd come to being a bit of hotel room roadkill).

Barely noticing Vince's narrow escape and dashing salute, Lynn now rounded the corner and swept down the steps into the sunken party room. More drinks flew through the air and more naked bodies dashed to safety while other fleshy forms sucked and fucked mere inches to either side of her in a state of heady oblivion. Pounding smacking flesh atop barstools and plush overstuffed furniture seemed to pass to either side of her as she plunged headlong through the makeshift corridor of ass, boobs, and jutting ding dong.

With Anita hot on her heels, she roared past the grand piano, the bar and DJ booth. She rounded a corner and sped down in back of the long sofas, then past the open doors of the inner bedrooms. All about her seemed a chaotic collage of screams, weed and sex funk; drowned out only by the blast of exhaust pipes and metal music reverberating off the walls. There was no time however to take any of it in.

Back out of the party room and up the steps she raced. She recalled a young long-haired roadie, very much in the way at the top of the steps and holding up a half empty pizza box. He was naked as the day he was born and sporting a beer bottle sized cock. He wobbled tipsily out of her way as Lynn barely missed him and rocketed past.

Rounding the corner at the top of the steps, Lynn managed with inebriated panache to return a salute to the vigorously humping Vince and his latest redheaded consort. With that, she sped towards the once again open door to the suite. She was out in an instant, thundering down the hall with Anita in the hottest of pursuits.

Lynn could later barely recall the dash down the hall towards the open emergency stair door. How she made it through the entrance (along with Anita close on her heels), without spilling is a mystery to this day. Still more of a mystery is how she made the headlong plunge down over the stairs, cutting corners in dark with the roar of the bikes echoing in the stairwell like thousands of shotgun blasts but the point is she made it somehow. Cowboy Motherfucker who was holding onto her with both hands for dear life and with his cock seated well up inside her can attest to that much, although his memory is vague at best on several of the finer points.

The most important thing to her at the time, however, was that at the bottom she was out the stairwell door a full two bike-lengths ahead of Anita! Then it was out the door for her and across the lobby, then to the hotel doors themselves. The last dash across the parking lot seemed ridiculously simple as she blazed the few remaining yards across the finish line at full throttle.

Her ears now filled with cheers as a couple dozen people swarmed the winner's circle, (although her mind barely registered the fact she'd won). She could see Stevie jumping up and down like a little kid and felt him hug her hard before she felt the huge she-bear embrace of Anita who said something akin to knowing when she'd been beaten by a true motorcycle heroine, (or something to the effect). However, it all seemed like a dream. Likewise, it all seemed ever so dreamy that she found herself hoisted up and raced back across the parking lot (over the shoulder of none-other than Cowboy Motherfucker who'd mentioned something about wanting to earn his hat back).

Quickly the hatless cowboy rocker swept her into the elevator and back up to the party room. The next thing Lynn knew, she was being tossed down *PLOP!* onto a mattress in one of the Presidential Suite bedrooms. All while stoned naked partiers fucked and humped all about her in a symphony of smacking flesh in every direction, regardless of where one looked.

Lynn giggled as the cowboy colossus towered naked and majestic above her. His physique, all wiry muscle and stretched lanky long limbs draped in that long black mane of rocker hair merely confirmed something Lynn had long held as a stereotype but still believed just the same; that all long lanky dudes possessed long lanky pussy-slaying dongs. His just happened to be no exception. She ogled his member shamelessly, as it hopped and fell before her in anticipation of what was to come. What a marvelous, curved structure it was, a piece of love junk more appropriate for a demon or the devil himself than a mere mortal.

She simply didn't want the magic of this moment to end, that spell of the "just before" that occurs prior to the act of fucking. The molly already had her feeling every damn happy emotion that could be felt and now it had her wanting this bit of pre-sex magic time to simply stop and last forever. She wiped a bead of sweat from her eye and then realized she'd still had something atop her pretty blonde head, slightly pinching her like a tiara.

The glasses... his mirrored sunglasses were still atop her naughty noggin. How they'd managed to stay up there through the orgy and the mayhem of the evening (and that's not to mention the bike race), was beyond her understanding. Oh well, along with his hat he could win those back too, couldn't he? Oh never mind all that, she was content to simply watch that massive horse-cock bob and hop with a little dribble of pre-cum at the tip; that is until he took matters in hand and began to tug and scrutinize HER himself. He wished for this to last as much as she did and he wasn't about to rush things.

The cowboy rocker studied her, his eyes hungrily perving over her every bare inch of her proportions; vigorously stroking his curved jutter of a dong in the manner of someone preparing a tool needed for a particularly dirty task. Oh, and what a dirty task it was! More dreamy snorts and giggles bubbled up from her cute Kewpie doll smile as dreamily she brought the heels of her thigh-high boots upward with bent spread knees, submitting that magnificent ass and pussy to him as a reward for his patience. She wriggled her ass to the edge of the bed; quivering her legs and bottom in a seductive sort of upside-down missionary twerk - just DARING him to do something about it.

Justin, the cowboy mother fucker, master of the guitar and master of an immense throbbing veiny dong, crouched and bent at the knees over Lynn. He brought his mushroom tip to her lovely pink twat-blossom and stroked his tool about in the petals. Up and down the line of her snatch he moved for several repetitions, bumping her swollen clit and hood like some horny boy scout attempting to start a fire. It reduced Lynn to delirious gasps of blissful agony and she soon she found herself shaking her pretty blonde head to and fro at the delicious torture. Mercifully at last, the cowboy slid a pulsing warhead to her waiting wet womb-hole. Without ceremony he sank down upon her, plunging in up to his balls.

"HAHHHHH!" gasped Lynn, her face washed in primal happiness. He was in... and this time she could enjoy him to the fullest, no bike, no race, and no interruptions!

The squeeze was an excruciating pleasure for them both instantly. In response, Lynn's legs flexed like happy shock absorbers under his manly weight. She ran her nose along his neck and ear; noting he smelled of fine-tooled leather, sweat, and confidence! He clamped his mouth over hers in a deep probing kiss and attempted to suck out her soul. The two commenced grinding hips in a frantic sweaty fuck.

They tried multiple positions. They rutted in hard slamming missionary with Lynn's legs and boot heels high in the air. They mated like Hindu pilgrims in a side-fuck; one leg straight and one bent as they stroked each other's faces. They banged hard-doggy with Lynn's head and shoulders low; her back arching her ass sky high like a stunt-bike jump as Cowboy Motherfucker plunged his devil dick deep into her pink pussy-pit. Masterfully he switched things up, flipping her over atop him in first a blistering reverse cowgirl rutt before Lynn spun around on his cock. Now in the classic old school cowgirl position, she found herself grinding that clit of hers against the base of his shaft; dangling her titties like ripe fruit for his ravenous sucks and bites of her nipples.

A few blissful minutes of this rude rodeo act and it was all either of them could stand. In unison both shuddered and bawled and swore into one another's faces. Cowboy's cock jetted hot piping curds deep within her as she let forth a dribbling cascade from her cunt of hot bitch broth that raced down his shaft and balls to deliciously puddle beneath them!

There was a pause... a cuddle, a kiss. She fiddled with his nipples and chest hair, drawing little swirly finger circles on him while resting her cheek upon his rising and falling chest. He appeared to doze off but after several minutes she turned her face up to his. She had a face full of wicked intent. His eyes opened as if to ask, "WHAT?"

"You wanna go again?" she asked slyly, pumping his wilted dong vigorously with her hand.

"You're going to kill me," he gasped.

Oohhhhh but he didn't protest. Instead, he placed his hand upon hers; guiding her strokes until she found the pace and friction he desired. Upon doing so, she realized she'd now a pulsing fistful of warm veiny stiffness. He was ready.

He rolled over on her back and commenced to mount. He moved his rigid tip to the mouth of her still steaming twat but stopped as she put a hand to his chest. She shook her pretty blond head and said,

"No, I want it in my asshole!"

He'd had her ass once... on her bike during that wild demonic indoor motocross event that would be infamous for years to come amongst the hotel staff and the repair crews, (who as it turns out later opted to just burn all the hallway carpets rather than try to get those tire tracks out). He'd fucked that ass for sure, but his chemical haze had been just as acute as hers. DAMNABLE MOLLY! He'd hardly remembered any of it. He wanted another go at that perfect little anus chute, and THIS TIME he'd recall each and every stroke! He made this a solemn pledge to himself.

With that, he guided the bell end of his dong to her rude rectal pucker. That cute little mud button of hers yielded, and the next thing Justin knew, he'd slipped into the lovely inviting warmth of her nasty corn chute. He was in! He was now atop her, spearing her anus missionary-style and slowly sinking his weight down upon her.

Lynn's eyes went wide, and her pretty lips formed that perfect letter "O" as suddenly she found both her turd ring stretched her intestine's full of invading cock! She made no cry of pain, no yelp of discomfort. Instead, she merely gasped up into her cowboy's face with a loud happy, "HAAAAARRRRR!"

Cowboy Motherfucker's mind was awash in what was best described as sublime hedonism. In fact, it was all he could do to keep from sawing back and forth in her guts. Instead, he purposely advanced with a slow determined "sink" into her dark and dirty depths. As he plunged further onward, however, he began to realize his hesitation was unnecessary. To her credit she impressed him with the ease she took cock deep into her nether regions. Obviously, she was a woman accustomed to having her greasy guts absolutely railed, no novice here!

Cowboy's heart leapt with joy at the realization that he could more than likely smash this lady in the keister, and with as much vigor as if he'd been up her cunt. With his balls now resting on her upturned buttocks like a pair of warm eggs, he pushed the very last inch of travel and reveled in the filthy lovely squeeze of her entrails. He held himself inside her and brought his lips forward to hers. As the pair kissed open-mouthed, he began to stroke and saw into her.

He brought fingers down to her snatch, pushing into her puss-hole and curving them back and upward until he located her G-spot. He began to fiddle with her juice button, and she accompanied him by frantically strumming her already throbbing clit. The whole time their lips remained locked in a feverish kiss, the pair moaning in a lovely duet as his cock battered away at her bottom-hole.

After a few minutes she felt his strong free hand, calloused from the pickings of countless guitar chords closed about her neck. It was firm, it was manly, it was forceful; forceful like the cock stabbing again and again at her rectum, her dirty-hole... her nasty no no place. Her mind immediately went awash in feverish pleasure. Here she was, anally ravaged legs-up missionary-style, her juice-button and throbbing bean getting frigged by deliciously determined hands, his lips pressed to hers, and now to top it off he was choking her. It was the last thing she craved!

Within a few strokes she'd just the sensation required. She screamed delicious agony into his lips as his fingers met a hot spray of girly-brine from her puss-hole. Oh, but this was merely the start!

They moved through a medley consisting of several anal fuck positions; the next being that of he and she lying upon their sides in a slow spoon-fuck; she with legs parted slightly as he provided the reach around and strummed her sex, all while placing kisses on her neck and shoulders. That lasted for but a few lovely minutes before they mixed it up again. This time she lay upon her back with her ass facing upwards to the ceiling; her feet touching the floor behind her head. He in turn pushed his enormous stiffy downward into the depths of her delightfully dirty dung-hole; plunging her oil-rig style as she happily wailed and bawled like he was splitting her.

It was then Lynn with her view of the world decidedly upside down, spied her gal pal Nancy, racing past them just outside the room with two of the cops chasing close behind and the cowboy hat still atop her head. Remembering her agreement with Cowboy Motherfucker, she hollered at the cackling upside-down vision of her bestie as she ran past the bedroom entrance,

"NANCY! Give Justin back his hat - he's more than earned it!"

A very naked Nancy (save the cowboy hat atop her head), appeared at the doorway, the police officers peering in over her shoulders curiously. Nancy nodded her head sadly, realizing it was time to return the conversation piece that had served her so well that evening.

"Yep, by the looks of things he's earned it!" she said and with that she removed it from her head and placed it atop Justin's long maned melon. She then inquired,

"What about the sunglasses?"

"He's still earning THOSE back!" Lynn replied.

Nancy giggled in agreement and with that, she stepped behind the two naked cops and swatted them on their bare asses before racing back into the party room. The two policemen turned to follow in hot pursuit. Lynn now turned her attention back to Justin, huffing up to him with,

"GIDDYUP COWBOY!"

Justin returned to his oil-drilling duties deep down in Lynn's dirt-shaft. For her part, she simply lay in that half-completed summersault position of hers. She was happy to let him control everything while she took it deep in her poor pounded popo!

After a few minutes of this, they mixed it up again. They started with head-down ass-up doggy with Lynn facing the headboard and pillows. In this position, Cowboy Justin gripped her hips with both hands, shafting her shitter deep 'n dirty; his strokes interrupted only by loud spanking smacks to her deliciously bare backside!

A few minutes later Lynn fell flat into the mattress keeping her ass raised ever so slightly. Configured like this, Justin assumed the role of ravager, lying flat atop her and pinning her elbows and legs down with his arms and knees. She craved this sort of treatment and often fantasized at home about being savaged by Viking marauders or brutal Mongolian riders when her hubby Davey would do this. She moaned helplessly but Justin picked up on the vibe, mercilessly sawing back and forth in her rectum as he chewed her neck and pulled pretty blonde locks of hair.

It was then she came sweetly with that cock skewering her dirty hole. A breathy little "HAAAAH" and shudder that didn't escape Justin's notice as he turned her face around to his with a strong hand and smashed his lips to hers in a joyful congratulatory kiss. He was not done though... oh no, not done at all! He'd not even begun to sodomize this one!

They rolled as one onto their sides, Justin's cock still crammed up Lynn's cutie-pie crapper. She giggled and sighed with her legs bent slightly, with the cowboy's free arm supporting her upper leg by hooking it under her knee. This was a delightfully lazy position for her - so relaxing and if a man had staying power she could go indefinitely like this. It was sort of butt-sex coasting for her.

Soon however, they changed it up again. As the music wailed and the party smoke drifted about them Justin's strong guitar-player arms rolled Lynn once again, this time lying back and reclining on him as he lay back against the bed's raised pillows. It looked as though she were resting on some lewd daybed or piece of masculine deck furniture as Justin's cock pistoned in and out of her pretty pink pooper from down below.

The position happened to be yet another favorite of hers. It allowed her to rest her weight upon the man and he could simply use her whole body like a lovely little sex toy; bouncing her up and down upon his dong without her feeling the crush of his weight. It also gave Lynn's inner exhibitionist self a bit of a thrill too... for everyone in the party room just beyond the door could easily peer inside and witness her being stabbed up her naughty guts by a wonderfully rude cock.

Stoned gawkers began to collect by the entrance (loitering in clots of twos, threes and fours with each hoping to catch a better glimpse of Lynn and Cowboy bucking away upon the bed). In every case, the faces registered a sort of drug-addled shock at the stark display of so much thick veiny penis going "bye bye" up such a perky and diminutive, little pucker hole... and of Lynn with her squealing baby-doll demeanor; all giggles and blown kisses to every last one of them. Invariably the voyeurs would saunter away, only to be replaced by other sets of wide-eyed viewers; not unlike visitors at a zoo finding themselves captivated by some beastly exhibit.

One such ogler was Anita, who eventually ambled past the open door with her horny new gal-pal Norianne; only for both women to do a sudden double-take and subsequent stop. The pair stood mesmerized by the spectacle. Here before them was Cowboy's massive member drilling deep up that dainty little dung-tunnel; Lynn's bowels stretching to accommodate each splitting thrust.

Anita and Nori now moved together in a sort of voyeuristic huddle, with Anita's chin hooked slightly over the top of the girl's head in an inspired big-spoon embrace from behind. Slowly Anita's fingers moved down Nori's form, finding the girl's nipples and sex; that she might fondle and strum to Cowboy and Lynn's rude rhythm. Nori responded by jutting her bum back against Anita's quim-bump giving her partner a lovely bit of Sapphic friction from her pert rump. This went on for a minute or so; with the pair rubbing and fondling one another in the doorway, never taking their eyes from Lynn and Cowboy Motherfucker's savage shitter schtupping.

At last Anita cleared her throat with an AHEM! Lynn and Cowboy paused their pooper pounding and peered towards the door. Anita pulled Nori in closer to herself and raised a hand in protest saying,

"No, don't stop on our account. Please don't! I just needed to say how impressed I was by that bit of riding you did earlier... I've been outdone, and that says something. Come to think of it, me and Nori are both more than a little impressed with this bit of riding going on RIGHT HERE!"

"Well," Lynn steamed happily, "what do you think you might do to SHOW that appreciation?" Cowboy had already resumed rutting Lynn's rump with slow determined strokes, and now both he and Lynn eagerly awaited a reply. They didn't have to wait long.

"Just this," replied Anita, and with that both she and Nori found themselves through the door and up onto the bed on all fours, bang-up against Lynn and Cowboy in a glorious pile of sweaty flesh.

Lynn continued with her position atop Cowboy's cock as it stabbed away again and again at her lovely crapper... but now she felt Anita's tongue at her clit and two of the woman's fingers hooked up inside her cunt-hole. Likewise, Cowboy felt the warm snugness of Nori's lovely mouth around his testicles as he happily fucked that asshole with renewed vigor; just reveling in the sensation of the young nymph gulping and sucking away at his ballsack with lovely anus squeezing his shaft.

Two had now become four and what a fiendishly fun four it was! Lynn rolled her pretty head and gasped with every shit-stirring stroke from Cowboy's cock up her crapper and she thrust hips against the hungry sucks and munches from Anita's maw; actually, attempting to face fuck Anita's pretty kisser with her swollen clit. Cowboy meanwhile marveled at the lovely nasty tightness Lynn's warm welcoming stink hole afforded him and he shafted her foul backroad with animalistic zeal. As if it wasn't enough that he found himself balls deep up inside Lynn's naughty no-no hole, those SAME balls of his were encased in nubile nymph Nori's lovely nut-sucker.

Oral addict Nori on the other hand was fully engrossed in sucking at those two plump hairy balls in her cheeks, like chipmunk on heat with a mouthful of fleshy acorns. She noted their appealing taste and fragrance; a sort of studly "sex funk mixed with testosterone and sweat" that overwhelmed her palate and nose in an intoxicating combo for the senses. She frigged away at her clit appreciatively; sucking cock, balls or pussy did that to her, (made her absolutely sodden).

Up top of Nori, Anita gorged on Lynn's well-fucked gash and beat her own box in an inspired if not barbaric and thoroughly hedonistic display of feverish masturbation. As pussies went, Lynn's pink lotus flower was like a lesbo wet dream cum true - delicately scented, scrumptious to the taste and with a texture that would turn even the straightest of women into a full-blown bull-dyke. She sucked and snuffled and finger-fucked away at the pussy, reveling with pride and excitement at each desperate humping thrust of Lynn's hips against her.

Whether it was Anita's strokes to Lynn's g-spot that did it or that greedy feeding of the woman upon Lynn's poor hooded bean (or maybe still the fact that Lynn was taking Cowboy's horsecock up her entrails at just the right depth and pace), she wasn't sure. Hell, it may have been the Molly for all I know, but it all had a cumulative effect. After several minutes of this four-way frenzy Lynn bucked, bawled, and shrieked at the top of her lungs; splattering Anita, Nori, and Cowboy with a hot blast of pussy brine.

That was all it took for Cowboy. He blasted an enormous load of ball batter deep up inside her bottom-hole, doing his best to impregnate her intestines with jet after jet of hot curds. He'd done it! He'd nutted good and solid - right up that marvelous ass; giving Lynn's lovely round rump a generous runny MoonPie.

Lynn fell back against him panting heavily, Cowboys cock still lodged up her keister, slowly wilting like a sleepy mouse its a cozy warm burrow. A moment later Anita and Nori climbed up onto the bed next to the post orgasmic couple and commenced a lazy sixty-nine, (no doubt inspired by the debauchery which had just taken place before them).

The mood on the mattress was that of blissful contentment. Lynn allowed her gaze to travel lazily to the Sapphic pair beside her, then back lovingly over her shoulder to Cowboy... and absentmindedly back to the doorway to the room. It was then she went wide-eyed as a familiar but quite naked form ran past the entrance.

"Chryssy?"

Christine, Lynn's statuesque full-figured coworker from the Helping Hands Hospital of Phoenix, suddenly screeched to a stop and then backed herself up a few steps before standing demurely in the center doorway. She peered into the the lovely pile of well-fucked naked flesh, searching for the source of the familiar voice. A second later and she recognized a familiar face and with a look of shock Christine blurted out a very surprised,

"LYNN?"

A split-second later another familiar nude form (this one quite male) raced into the doorway, having caught up with Christine. The man, his jutting erection cutting the wind before him as he ran, also screeched to a halt, threw his powerful arms about Chryssy, and nestled the tip of a massive nine-incher playfully between the comely BBW's asscheeks, dry humping her like a playful puppy as he did. It was only then that his face went pale as his eyes settled on Lynn.

"LYNN?" he managed to sputter, cock still bumping up against Christine's delectable doo-doo dumper.

"DAVEY!" Lynn's lungs blasted with a mixture of shock and surprise upon seeing her husband with his rod nestled in the cleft of her bestie's keister.

There was some explaining to do, explaining by all, in fact. Explaining was needed about how Lynn ended up this hotel with Cowboy's cock halfway up her cornhole, explaining how Chryssy was here after giving up her tickets to Lynn, explaining how Davey was here when he was supposed to be at a construction gig and how he was chasing Chryssy round and round the room with more wood than a pine forest of virgin timber, explaining how everyone here was naked except for boots, cowboy hats baby oil and sunglasses, with a wealth of pharmaceuticals inside them. Lynn started off first, knowing that there had to be a reasonable explanation as to....

"DAVE HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU? You told me you had a construction gig this weekend!"

"I DID, Babe!" Dave pleaded his case, "the construction gig was that badass stage the bands played at. The job took us almost right up to the start of tonight's show. The concert promoters had us stay after and gave us free passes we pretty much were able to go anyplace a roadie could. When the groupie bus was about ready to pull out to come here, there were vans of roadies that were half-empty so everybody in the construction crew got an invitation to come back to the hotel and party with the band!"

"But," Lynn continued, "what about my friend Chryssy?"

"Wait," Dave paused her, "your friend?"

"This is Chryssy," Lynn explained, "she works with me at the hospital handling insurance and billing. Oh wait... CHRYSSY! What are you doing here anyhow?"

Christine looked sheepish. She stood naked as the day she was born looking shyly at the floor. Then sucking in her breath, she figured telling the truth would be the best. She explained that she and her hubby had a fight a short time before calling Lynn.

It was one of those silly fights that couples who love each other and are going to stay together forever have every now and again. When all the storming and shouting was done with, Tim didn't want to go to the concert the next day and Chryssy who'd already paid for the tickets was too mad to go anywhere with him anyhow. They decided to make up an excuse of being too sick for the event and for Tim to give his ticket to someone at work. Likewise, Chryssy opted to give her ticket to Lynn. After all, not letting the tickets go to waste seemed like the right thing to do.

The only problem was that not an hour's time after Lynn picked up the ticket, Christine had second thoughts. She reasoned she'd been right all along, and her bad mood was simply a matter of her hubby not seeing things properly or even considering her point. More importantly, she desperately wanted to see Touch the Serpent in concert! The fact it might teach her hubby a bit of a lesson by her just fucking off to Flagstaff only made it all the more delicious!

So, she put on her best club clothes, filled her pickup with gas and then motored up to the fairgrounds at Flagstaff. She'd soon solve the problem of 'no ticket' with sloppy blowjobs for two security officers behind the entry gate booth. A short time after that with muddy knees and a belly full of rent-a-cop cum, she found herself pushing up to the stage with a specially stamped hand. Well after that, one thing led to another, and she ended up on the groupie-bus headed to the after-party. To her credit (and to Davey's), neither she nor David had met before tonight, so the fact Lynn was her bestie and Davey's main squeeze were not readily apparent to either, until now!

"But wait a minute Hon," observed Davey, "what are YOU doing here... and who's this guy splitting your guts with his cock?"

Even though she was stoned harder than Fred Flintstone's toilet seat, Lynn knew that Davey knew that she knew that ...well, ...EVERYONE KNEW. At first, she grinned sheepishly, but Lynn knew she couldn't talk her way out of this one. Based on Davey's expression she didn't have to. Instead, she took a completely different tack...

"Davey my love," Lynn explained, "this guy behind me with his dong up my be-hind is Cowboy... otherwise known as Justin, and HEY JUSTIN... this is the love of my life, Davey!"

The two fellahs grinned and Davey generously reached over Lynn's shoulder, his hand finding Cowboy's in a strong handshake. Davey then recognized Justin from the concert, commenting that he was absolutely stone cold badass on guitar. Cowboy motherfucker merely nodded humbly and thanked him, adding he was glad he enjoyed the show.

"Well Davey," Lynn added, "since we are BOTH here enjoying the after-concert sex party and by the looks of things, we've both been bad. I just want you to know, I'm not upset if you're not upset. I mean... I miss the good old days when we were a freaky polyamorous couple, swinging with couples and singles and going to orgies and coming home at seven A.M. after fucking our genitals down to the nub! What's more, I miss cocks and pussy and tasting some chick's cunt or ass on your shaft for breakfast home at our place, (of course that's right before you'd take me to the bedroom to claim-fuck me back after ten or fifteen guys have had their way with me)!"​