The West Shore couples had not intended to assault the East Shore group in a sexual sense. They had crossed the lake for socializing, and the community of ten spent the late afternoon and most of the evening comparing notes on various subjects.
In the manner of a progressive dinner, though without any preplanned order, schedule or preparation, they managed to spend some time in every one of the four cottages before they finished their discussions. Drinks and snacks always seemed to be in evidence, and each helped himself as appetite or mood required.
Tom and Sandy were in attendance after the first hour, always together or near each other, even though they participated in conversations separately, when they were addressed by one of the older members of the group.
Shortly after ten, presumably by mutual agreement, Tom and Sandy excused themselves and announced their intention to call it a night. They left the Cartwright cottage, where the rambling party had come to an almost-standstill, and swam across the lake. After seeing Cassandra safely inside the Lafayette cottage, Tom went to his own bed and flaked out.
The departure of the "novice members" lifted a cloud of restraint from the others. In rapid succession, they paired off and disappeared until Rhoda and Andy remained at the Cartwright bar by themselves.
Rhoda had installed the cotton summer covers on the leatherette bar stools, so they were comfortable sitting in the buff. Andy had to lean back frequently and admire the way Rhoda's gypsy-tan butt cheeks contrasted so excitingly with the bright fabric of the cover on which she sat.
"Damn, Rhoda!" he had to say finally. "I've admired your sweet ass from the first time I saw it, but… right now it's about to drive me off my nut!" He slipped from his stool and squatted behind her, then delivered a series of passionate kisses on her curvaceous butt.
When he began to thrust his tongue down into the crease that separated the attractive cheeks, she wiggled backward until her asshole was fully accessible, nestled amidst the curls of black hair that crept from her crotch.
Andy slithered the tip of his tongue into the soft warmth of her bung, teasing the tender wrinkles expertly. It was so tantalizing that she could not sit still. Her ass writhed on the fabric as she whimpered and giggled happily. And her asshole kept winking as she tried to open to his tongue against the reflexive nerve block that contracted it.
She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the bar and lifting her quivering butt from the stool. Andy grunted eagerly and pursued the target, now so much more accessible to him. He got the tip of his tongue wedged past the winking ring of muscle, and the hot wetness of his vibrating flesh excited her fantastically.
"Oh, Jesus!" she whispered. "I'm creaming all over the place!"
Andy felt her juice trickling in around his tongue. The female scent of it was driving him wild. He tried to fuck her asshole with his tongue, but the claspings of her anal muscle were too strong. He finally tired and had to pull his aching tongue out of her ass.
He slithered it into her dripping cunt and she almost jumped off the stool, where her feet were bracing her on opposite side rungs. He sucked at the runny coating and licked off all he could reach. Then he seized her by the waist and picked her up; he set her down beside him, then took her hand in his.
"Where do you want it, Rhoda?" he asked. "Bed… floor… porch… beach… name it quick!"
"Here!" she cried, pulling the slip cover off her bar stool with her free hand, then pulling him down to the shag carpeting.
"Hands and knees, baby!" he ordered. "Uncle Andy's going to try your back door!" She obliged him, and he knee-walked up to her, guiding his prick into the dripping tendrils of her black bush.
He shoved into her cunt, making her gasp and moan with pleasure as his cock filled her tunnel briefly. He gave his dick a few strokes to lubricate it, then gathered some more of the trickling excess with his fingers. He smeared her asshole with it, then pulled out of her cunt and jammed the head of his whang into the moistened wrinkles of her bung. He pressed finely but slowly at the reluctant flesh.
"Come on, baby!" he coaxed her. "Shit for Uncle Andy."
She grunted, made a conscious effort to expand the stubborn muscle, and it rolled open abruptly. Andy's cock entered her asshole with a soft, wet "plop" as his prickhead cleared the entranceway.
"Oh God, you're filling me up!" she cried. It felt as if he had stuffed her ass with a splintered piece of timber. But she bore it bravely as he reached around her and got his fingers in the soupy petals of her cunt. He began to stir in the fleshy cauldron, and soon she was moaning with her mounting involvement as sensations crawled over her from two directions.
The more excited she grew, the more her asshole relaxed its stubborn graspings. Andy was able to work his cock in to the limit, and he began fucking her ass brutally while fingering her cunt into a seething, frothy turmoil.
Rhoda's ass went into a grinding, jerking motion, the result of experiencing so much stimulation that muscles and nerves began to react wildly. Andy found that he could conserve his energy; she provided more than enough movement to get the job done! He concentrated on working her clit with his fingers and thumb.
She was breathing heavily now. It was more than panting; it was a moaning, heaving sound, like a mare about to foal. She was creaming so steadily that Andy's fingers, palm and wrist were dripping with the excess.
Her bowel was writhing as his cock worked within its sheath, and her asshole made spasmodic bites on the swollen flesh of his prick. He had played this game before, with others, but never had he felt the joy of penetrating a warm female body so keenly.
Every part of Rhoda was alive, working, and bubbling in its own kind of juices. His cock and his fingers seemed to reach into her being, to feel the warm juices of life pulsing around them. It was a stirring sensation that simmered in his guts, waiting for only the slightest increase in stimulus to boil it over.
"Andy!" Rhoda cried suddenly. "I keep… coming and coming! Little comes that… are killing me! Oh God! Make me have… a big one or… let me pass out!"
Her rasping voice sounded even sexier than her normal tones. Andy was excited by the animal grunts she uttered every time their bodies banged together.
Still he held his control. But then she started to have a greater climax; her cunt grasped his probing fingers and her asshole nibbled on his cock as she suddenly squealed loudly.
Andy groaned and began to shoot into her bowel. She felt the hot cum splashing inside her and uttered a staccato shrieking sound as her convulsions caused her throat to spasm. Her claspings milked Andy's cock quickly, and the chattering action of her asshole became too painful for his tenderized meat.
He eased out of her ass, withdrawing a little each time her bung expanded briefly. When his dick was free, he sat down heavily, his sloppy hand held in front of him while he groped with the other for the slip cover Rhoda had grabbed earlier.
He jammed the fabric into her crotch so it covered asshole and pussy, holding it there until Rhoda could stagger to her feet and grip the material with her thighs and hand.
He continued to sit, wet cock and hand in his bare lap, waiting for her to finish in the bathroom. Cool evening air came through the screen door, evaporating the sweat and cum and cunt cream that covered him.
When he heard the shower splashing, he swore, got to his feet, and went in to join her. They lathered and splashed around, teasing each other and laughing, until they felt refreshed. Then they shut off the spray and embraced, their wet bodies slithering together as they kissed and explored with their hands.
"I'm getting hot again," Rhoda said. "My asshole's tender, but my twat is twitching for action."
"And my prick's praying for a refill," he told her. "While we're waiting, how about another drink?"
"Good idea. You build 'em while I turn down a bed. We can lie there and sip in comfort. Then, when that prayer's answered, we'll be in a good place to take advantage of it!"
Andy went to the bar while Rhoda got the master bedroom organized. Once they were settled in, drinks on the nightstands, radio playing soft music, and the mild night breeze coming in through the open window, Andy felt more refreshed than ever.
Rhoda began playing with him, trailing her fingertips over his skin, sucking his nipples, scratching the wrinkled surface of his hairy bag, and even the wrinkled knot of his shifter.
His pulse began to speed up once more, and he got into the spirit of the game. He went after Rhoda's tits, sucking her large nipples and kneading the lovely udders until she was squealing and squirming all over the bed.
He went after her cunt then, licking the hot, fleshy furrow that cleft her dark bush, nibbling at the passion-thickened lips and the stubby erection of her clitoris. She moaned and wiggled, happy to be eaten by his hungry mouth, but she wanted to feast, too.
She reversed herself in bed, and Andy left his position at the foot to stretch out full-length beside her, his face in her hairy crotch, his nose in her ass, and his tongue once more licking avidly into her cunt.
Rhoda's tongue was busy, too. She raved his balls, licked the shaft of his cock, rimmed the coronal ridge with her tongue, then slid her moist, hot lips over the tip and rammed his entire prickshaft into her throat.
She was creaming heavily again as he began to suck her clit and milk it with his lips. Her tiny moans told him she was on her way to an exciting finish, and the thought speeded up his own recovery, already nicely begun by Rhoda's expert cock sucking.
When she came, Andy grabbed her ass and held her cunt against his mouth, sucking at the hole of her twat for all he was worth as his own explosion started. He spewed out his jizz in sharp jets that seemed to drain him swiftly.
Rhoda took it smoothly, gulping and sucking until Andy let out a deep groan. Then she let her head fall aside and his cock flipped free. He let his head roll out of her crotch onto the bed.
After Rhoda's inner spasms subsided, she sat up and sipped at her drink.
"Wow! That was great, Andy!" she told him. "It might even last me until breakfast."
"It was great for me, too, Rhoda," he admitted. "But don't count too much on a wake-up quickie in the morning. I feel as if I belong in an intensive care ward. Kee-rist! I wonder if I'm the only guy who ran out of steam before midnight!"
Denise and Jack entered the Lafayette cottage quietly, but the door to Sandy's room was closed, and her mother was certain that nothing short of a major explosion would awaken her.
They built drinks, took them to the master bedroom, and turned on the FM radio while they got settled. Calypso music filled the room, and Denise lay lewdly in the center of the big bed, wiggling her ass on the sheets and tossing her pelvis in rhythmic bumps that forced Jack to stare in awe at her dexterity.
"What the hell am I doing just sitting here?" he asked himself aloud as he set his drink on his nightstand. He rolled over on his hip, moving quickly from a sitting position on the edge of the bed to a kneeling readiness that gave him a closer look at Denise's tossing torso.
"My God! The fresh little thing is winking at me!" he said after watching her pussy part its lips on the upward movement and close them as her ass sank onto the bed. "Stop the machine so I can get on board. Don't waste all that energy, Denise!"
She grinned mischievously and slowed her motion just enough for him to insert his knees between her upraised thighs. But when he tried to zero in on her bouncing bush, aiming his cock with a nervous hand, he found it impossible to slip into the enticing blossom that fluttered up and down in time with the music.
When the program announcer's voice came over the air, Denise stopped, as if unable to make her ass dance without music. Jack shoved the head of his dick into her moist hole, grabbed her butt in his huge hands, and thrust into her cunt.
"Oohhh!" she moaned. "You know how to fill a girl's needs!"
When the music resumed, it was with a slow waltz. Jack thrust into her cunt on the downbeat, used a spiral movement as he withdrew, and screwed in again on the next downbeat. He waltzed into her for several minutes, enjoying the slow fuck as he felt her juices ooze more freely around his cock.
Then another waltz, timed just a fraction of a second faster, allowed a slight increase in his strokes. He got her tits in his hands, squeezing and kneading them, pinching her nipples occasionally on the downbeat. Denise was whimpering and writhing considerably as her thrills increased, and her own tempo began to make itself known.
She thrust up to meet him, but her eagerness and the inner rhythm of her quickening pulse did not match the precise drive he was using – still following the waltz beat.
The next recording was "If I Were a Rich Man", from Fiddler On The Roof. It was strictly a novelty instrumental arrangement, and Jack speeded up to follow the inspiring beat.
After the introduction, Jack's virile baritone voice teased Denise with a parody, for as long as he could think up the words fast enough. "If I were a cocksman… duh-duh-dee-dee-duh-dee-di-dee-oh…"
Many a man would have sounded comical, singing as he fucked. But there was something about the earnest expression on Jack's face and the purposeful gleam in his eyes as he screwed her beautifully in perfect rhythm, that excited Denise more than ever.
And there was great excitement in the way his huge cock filled her twat to full capacity – or so it seemed – every time he shoved it into her frothing hole.
He gave up singing, merely grunting in bestial joy with the thrill of plumbing her deep sheath at each charge. But the savage, lustful sound of his grunts, in perfect tempo with the music, managed to stir Denise as nothing ever had before. She felt a rare, primordial strength and lust fill her supercharged body, and she began to moan and sob at the sensations that threatened to explode within her at any second.
"When I come," she threatened, panting and moaning between quickly uttered phrases, "I'm gonna… swallow you up… in one big… OMIGOD!" Her body tensed and quivered, then spasmed wildly as the potent orgasm seized her.
Jack, feeling his cock being nibbled by her swallowing cunt, knew he was done for in a matter of seconds. He bored into her with a desperate lunge and let go his load, shooting spurts of his hot semen against the innermost walls of her spasming tunnel.
When he had emptied his reservoir, his hands released her tits, and he straightened up to study the fascinating sight of her dying climax as it worked its way with her.
Her belly muscles shivered and rippled and her arms and legs twitched at random intervals. She was breathing so heavily and so rapidly that her tits were not still for a second, jiggling and quaking to her inner rhythm.
She kept wetting her lips with her tongue, and rolling her head from side to side. Her eyes were tightly closed all the while. And when the very last twitch, ripple, shiver, jiggle and quake had ended, her eyes opened. She looked at him and smiled weakly.
"I don't know… what made it happen… the way it happened," she panted. "But one like that… is about all I can stand… without flipping my wig!"
Jack pulled his dick out of her overflowing hole and eased down to lie beside her. He felt spent, but the intensity of Denise's orgasm had been rewarding to watch and feel. He had the impression that, if she were willing to tackle it after a few minutes, he might just be able to revive his sleeping cock and repeat the performance.
He took a hearty swallow of his drink, wondering how best to fill the time between now and the moment both of them were ready for another fuck.
The breeze whipped the curtain, flipping it far out into the room, and Jack glanced at the window. The moon was not full, but it was bright enough to take a walk around the lake.
"Let's take a moonlight stroll, Denise," he suggested. "It might pep us up to walk for a while." He swung his feet to the floor and stood up, looking down at her.
"If it doesn't freeze us first," she replied. But she got out of bed and slipped into a short robe before following him. It was cool outside, especially when the wind blew. But the breeze was fickle, coming and going at random intervals. They walked at a good pace, going from the cottage along the beach to the north end of the lake, then across the bridge over the creek, and southward along the west shore. When they rounded the southwestern comer, they stopped in the shelter of the bushes and small trees that grew there, so Denise could squat and pee.
"Let's take a quick dip while we're here," Jack said. He strolled past Denise's squatting form, hearing the foamy sound of her piss bubbling into the sandy loam, and went up to the bank of the lake. It was about two feet from the water. The depth, he knew, was almost fifteen feet at this wide end of the "harp" of water.
He made a clean dive from the bank, came up, and saw Denise shedding her robe. She went in feet-first, then swam to where he was treading water. As the moon struck her face, he saw a strange expression; the water around her was being agitated by her moving arms.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Skinny douching," she said, giggling at the blank look on his face. "It's something I learned at summer camp when I was a few years younger. You tread water, then use your hands like a plumber's friend to suction the water and push it into your cunt."
"I most certainly do not!" Jack quipped.
"I mean, if you have a cunt, that's how you douche it while you're skinny-dipping. It's primitive, but effective."
"Come with me," Jack said, starting for the bank. "I'll show you how to apply suction to a cunt!"
They crawled onto the bank and lay on the soft grass. Jack caught his breath, then rolled over onto his belly and grabbed Denise's legs, lifting them high. He nosed into her wet, brown curls, thumbed the cuntlips apart, and began to lick hotly into her gash.
She squealed as his tongue snaked all over her box, gathering drops of lake water and teasing her sensitive flesh. He nibbled her clit and she moaned softly; her ass quivered in the soft grass and her belly rippled with muscular activity as her excitement grew.
He got her clit in his lips and sucked at it, working the tiny cloak over its stiff glans between sucks. Denise jerked and twisted in the grass, moaning and whimpering as sensations tore through her belly, bowels and cunt.
"Jack!" she cried. "Let me have your cock. Please!" He gave a grunt, reluctant to leave his advantageous position, but he hated to be a spoil-sport. He jockeyed around until he was straddling her head with his crotch. He attacked her clit from this more difficult angle, got a good grip on it, and resumed his sucking and milking.
Denise sucked his stiffened cock into her mouth. What he was doing to her cunt made her starved for a flood of hot jizz. She wasted no time, but immediately began to milk its bulk with her lips, sucking to hurry the flow she was so eager to taste.
Cool blades of grass tickled her asshole, lower edges of her swollen box, and inner thighs. Jack's lips and tongue were stirring up her very soul and sucking it out through her cunt. She retaliated by sucking and milking his cock voraciously.
They came together, exploding wildly as they groaned and grunted and struggled, each trying to feast as long as possible. Then they were both fighting to free themselves from the delicious pain of continued stimulation.
As they lay in the grass, resting before their return to the cottage, Denise glanced up at the cliffside. She stared at a spot of white, barely visible in the shadowy recess of what looked like a cave.
"Is that your wild white dog up there?" she asked. Jack had told the story again, by request, and the refreshed memory now made him think for a brief moment that it was the dog he was seeing.
"Noooo… I don't think so," he said finally, convinced that the white patch was too small, even for the head of the beast. "He isn't a Pueblo Indian, you know, Denise. He'd have to have a ladder to get into a hole or ledge halfway up that cliff. Come on. Let's go back to that bed. For some reason, I'm suddenly pooped!"
The hunt had been good tonight, and the rabbit warmed the lean belly from the inside while the glossy white fur kept it warm from without. Bounding over the boulders, all four of the huge paws found familiar spots, carrying the big white beast into the cave.
He padded to the mouth that opened onto the cliffside, sniffed again at the thing he had found in his nest, far in the back corner of the cave, earlier in the evening. It had the strong male scent of man, but there was also the man-bitch scent.
He whined softly as he remembered the man-bitch he had fucked; it had been good, that unexpected mating. Did this thing in his cave have to do with one of the man-bitches that came to stay in the caves-that-smelled-like-trees, down by the lake?
There was the smell of blood, too. Had the man-bitch been hurt? Or was it the kind of bleeding he knew from his coupling with that young coyote bitch?
What was more important, was there a chance that the man-bitch would return here? He would like to slide his cock into another roomy, warm thing like he had found in that other man-bitch!
He whined more loudly now; his prick extended readily from its white-furred covering, and a drop of his seed oozed out to fall onto the stone floor. He growled deep in his throat, then padded into the rear corner of the cave, sniffed cautiously as he turned around several times, and lay down in his rocky bed.