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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
CHAMBERS OF LOVE
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Chapter Seventeen
We made a lovely show down in the great room. Rick with his
sign and pulsing, glistening pestle, me with my wet cunt and red
bottom, drying breasts. Julie with her distended, oily anus set within
the neat, trim cheeks of her tight ass. Beth's big breasts had tiny love
bites on them where Julie and I had given her little hickeys with our
teeth. There were only a handful of people in the great room, but they
were impressed, even those who were fully clothed. I realized then
that the ethic of the place was to "fuck hard." Its sole reason for being
was to facilitate copulations. It was as if we were in some science
program designed to repopulate the earth. In fact, though, condoms
were readily available, from the front desk if you forgot to bring your
own. And you could always borrow one, or a birth control pill or
diaphragm. The front desk also dispensed RU486, for an additional fee.
So the purpose of the sex was mere pleasure. To blow off steam, get
natural, feel relaxed. Cocks were offered and pussies readily accepted
them without names ever being exchanged. Or often, the names were
first names only and made up.
We sat and chatted, entertained compliments from passing guests
on our appearance. "Keep up the good work," they would say. Or: "You
have a lovely glow." "Hope you last 'til morning." "Stay stiff and wet."
We promised we would.
After refreshing ourselves we proceeded back upstairs. Beth
stopped by the front desk to pick up another tube of KY. On the stairs
we passed an admiring couple who offered us a tube of gel. "Put it on
your most sensitive skin," they said. "It will burn and itch furiously at
first but then you'll start to feel really warm and healthy there, very
aroused. It leaves a marvelous after-glow." We thanked them and said
we'd try it. They said they had it on right at the moment, and were in
the final phase. I looked after them as they departed, the woman in a
tee but no panties, the man in boxer shorts. They were headed out back.
"We're in room 41," I called. "Please tell that to a girl in red
panties named Helga if you see her." The woman said they would.
Back in the relative privacy of our room we once again took to the
bed that doubled as a kind of tarmac of love. Rick asked Julie if her
bottom was sore yet and she replied, "Not yet," hesitantly, tentatively.
Touching a finger to her stretched anus as she spoke.
"Bend over, then," he commanded, and she demurely got on all
fours, her glossy hair hanging down around her face, seemingly hiding
it. Her tits, lovely and bare, pendently swinging like ornaments for all
to admire. Beth put me in a 69 with herself crouched on top. We began
licking one another's cunts, even as Julie cried out at the new
penetration. Long minutes passed with nothing heard save the licking,
mewing, and thrusting sounds of love.
Rick warned Beth that he was going to pay tribute to Julie's fine
ass. He said he didn't want to pull out again. He said such a glorious
bottom, fully fleshed, responsive, yet incredibly snug and without any
fat deserved a sperm salute at this time. Beth said okay and urged him
to hold himself in until she and I could bring ourselves right up to
orgasm with them. Rick said he'd do his best and intensified the
occasional fingering he'd done of Julie's clit, while slowing his strokes
in her ass. Soon all four of us were aligned along the precipice of
orgasm. Suddenly, with naught but a perfunctory knock, the man and
woman in the boxers and tee peeked inside. They apologized at once but
Beth invited them in. They commented that they loved to watch and
were secretly delighted that they'd caught us at just the right moment.
Beth said an audience always heightened the pleasure and signalled for
Rick to loose himself at his leisure.
The final licks were applied, the discipline-breaking thrusts
made. A swirl of cries and febrile, feverish movements followed, all of
us delirious with our long wished-for releases. Panting and grunting
and screaming we made our way headily down the other side, finally
collapsing some minutes later in a heap of tangled flesh. Upon a bed
soaked in sweat and cum and cunt and anal juices. Our friends stroked
us lightly and said we'd done wonderfully.
Through the haze of my lingering pleasure I asked the woman why
she wore just a tee. Was it, I asked sassily, so that she could keep
warm without protecting her pussy from an inspired assault? She said
that was exactly the reason. She'd grown up in a warm climate and
found the weather in Germany at this time of year to be a little chilly.
But, following good manners at the hostel, she felt she should leave her
bush well displayed. And cunt lips should not be shielded, she felt, they
should be in constant "danger" of impalement. She said my question had
made her even hotter than she already was from watching us fuck and
could she and her boyfriend reciprocate by making love for us? We said
yes and they did it right there at the foot of the bed, the woman
doggie-style, a bitch in heat, as the man copied Rick's example and
fucked her up the ass. At the end he came, though, explosively. Then
they lay at our loins and gently nibbled us back to arousal.
The reason for the couple entering, they now told us, was to
inform us that Helga had managed to get herself trussed up and gagged
in the woodshed. That was why we had not seen her. They said they'd
seen a pair of red panties hung on the outside handle of the woodshed
door and that was what led them to investigate. Apparently she'd gone
there of her own will, stopped and neatly hung her panties outside the
door, and then went in. We thanked her and said we'd check in on her
after awhile.
Friskily we rose up in the bed and looked at one another, like
children on summer vacation lost in a world of possibilities. There
were two men and four women now, enough for a full-fledged orgy if
the men were up to it. Rick's notoriety had already been boasted of.
Dave, boyfriend of the still T-shirted Connie, said he could cum at least
twice more. His cock stood up stiff and proud. He was a young man, no
more than 22.
Beth said we should add some spice to this round by going outside
and snipping some birch switches. She said birch trees were grown on
the property for just such a use. Connie said she and her boyfriend had
never allowed the infliction of pain to enter their sex play.
"It needn't be too painful, darling, just an inspiration, is all."
Julie and I did not protest and so we paraded outside, the men with
their cocks waggling out before them and we girls with our boobies and
tushies giving a sinfully fleshy display. We cut some rods and
proceeded back to our little chamber of love.
"Julie and Kimmy, I want you each to give a man head, on the bed,
while I stand behind you and correct any mistakes you make," Beth said,
brandishing a clutch of birches she'd tied with a pink bow. Julie and I
looked at each other doubtfully but complied anyway. Julie knelt in the
sheets over Dave, I got to kneel over Rick. Casting a glance over our
shoulder at Beth, who stood just beyond the end of the bed, we rubbed
our bottoms ruefully at what lay ahead, as if to soothe them in advance.
The men lay at ease beneath us, heads propped up on pillows so
they could watch. Beth shocked Connie by producing dog collars and
cuffs. She collared each of us girls, and cuffed our wrists together
high on our backs. She tethered our wrists to the backs of our collars.
Thus restrained, Julie and I would be obliged to suck off the men with
only the artistry of our mouths. Beth arranged us so that our bottoms
would be at the best possible advantage for her "corrections." Bottoms
high, knees spread, figs peeping, we kissed the tips of our paramours
and waited for her signal to begin.
Connie, meanwhile, was made to stand and bend over the foot of
the bed, with her face crushed against the sheets. Collared now, the
front of her collar was tethered to the brass-poled footboard of the
bed. Behind her, to her agonized disbelief, Beth strapped on a dildo. It
was stiff and curved upward toward the ceiling. It obviously meant
business. Connie had never played with dildoes before. Helga reminded
her that her pussy should constantly be "in danger" of being impaled,
Connie's own interpretation of hostel etiquette. Since the tee didn't
cover her heinie either this must include her asshole also, Beth said.
Connie trembled as she realized she'd been hung by her own hubris,
making up rules of behavior for a place that specifically abjured them.
"This place is not Story of O," Beth said. "However, since you
seem to admire the principals in Story of O it's high time you
experienced some of what O did."
Connie uttered a feeble "Yes," not sure what to do at this point.
Beth gave each of our rumps a slash, including Connie's, and announced
that the orgy had begun!
Julie and I began eagerly bobbing our heads on the fine upstanding
shafts that challenged us to make them cum. Julie had oral possession
of Dave, and I of Rick. Was I woman enough to bring his steely, rigidly
self-controlled dick to the brink of orgasm? I would soon find out. I
knew little about blow jobs and, fumbling about with my lips and
tongue, soon felt a whippy rod cut into my bottom-flesh.
"NYYYNG!" I cried, trying not to cry out even as the pain welled up
within my heinie.
"Purse your lips, form an O, that's it," Beth said. "Now use
butterfly strokes with your tongue." Each man had a hand mirror which
he held near his loins to reflect all back to Connie. Next to me Julie
moved with smooth proficiency, a Stepford wife put to her highest and
best use.
Connie's bum was slashed to give her the experience of it and to
warm her for her penetration. My cries joined hers as I continually
muffed my assignment. Beth told me to take him all the way down my
throat, but I gagged. She told me to vacuum suck for a full minute,
breathing only through my nose, but I had to come up for air after 20
seconds. I was well striped by the time Rick suddenly announced that
my sweet childish fumblings had driven him unexpectedly over the edge!
A shower of semen hit my face like nothing I'd ever felt. It was
like a fire hydrant spurting up milk. I tried to control it, to somehow
get hold of him and stop it, but the flow was just too great. I knelt
bathed in his spouting juices, smiling, giggling. Beth was furious and
screamed for him to stop. When he'd finished cumming I looked like I'd
been hit with a cream pie.
"Well, I regret losing control, but that was the most enjoyable
squirt I've had in years," Rick said. "Such a fantastic looking blonde,
and only 15, and totally inexperienced but trying her best as you
birched her bottom for her many mistakes!" He tried to tousle my hair
but it was so sticky with his cum that, getting himself on his hand, he
prudishly pulled his hand back.
Dave came then, and Julie expertly swallowed him, save for a few
rivulets that escaped down her chin. She lifted her head and smacked
her lips. "Good to the last drop," she said.
We asked to be released so that we could go check on Helga. Rick
insisted that Beth allow it. Reluctantly she undid us and we bid them
farewell. As we left Beth was taking out her frustration over my
immature allure on Connie. She screamed as the curved dildo worked
inexorably up her ass, begging her boyfriend to save her. Instead he
watched with approval, saying it was high time she got it that way,
even if only from a dildo.
Walking down the hall Julie and I bumped into a pair of men. They
were new, but already buck naked, with magnificent penises. They told
us they were going skinnydipping in the pool. We talked awhile. My
fingers soon crept upon the nearest man's penis, even as we kept up our
polite conversation. Julie's also made a rude acquaintance with her
dialectical partner. Suddenly the men asked us if they could fuck us,
right there in the hall. Still hot but unfulfilled from Connie and Dave's
nibbling, we thought a moment, then looked at each other and nodded.
They took us there, our backs mashed up against the wall as they fucked
us hard. They'd driven a long way, and we were their first encounter.
Finally they squirted into us desperately and we all screamed with our
release. Then, quick as we'd met, they left, leaving us half-plastered
with sweat to the wall. Julie and I unstuck ourselves from it and
stumbled on our way. We stopped in the bathroom just so we could sit
on something to ease our plundered pelvises.
A bit later we managed to make it out into the back yard. The sun
was up, bright and cheery and giving us a sense that we'd completely
lost track of time. There was an above ground pool, large and made of
wood. The bathers whistled and beckoned to us. Politely we waved
them off. Next to it was a Jacuzzi in which two couples were lustily
copulating. The woodshed lay beyond, and there were several outhouses
scattered back into the encroaching woods for the convenience of those
who didn't want to traipse all the way indoors to relieve themselves.
Julie and I stepped through the ankle-high, unmown grass to the
woodshed, following a haphazard path of flagstones where we could.
We swung open the door. Helga stood bound against the far wall. Her
eyes lit up upon seeing us.
Helga looked like some ruined shell of a woman, all marked and
bruised and wealed. She'd been a toy in the shed for something like 12
hours. Her hair was a mess, all bedraggled and shot through with drying
semen. Yet her breasts stood out as proudly and magnificently as ever.
Somewhere down in my naughty self I was secretly glad to see her get
some of what she'd so casually dispensed to me earlier, or led me into.
"Well, well," I said to Julie. "I SUPPOSE we should untie her,
although I wouldn't want to break a nail or anything."
Helga gaped at us then, as if turned on by some switch. "Get me
outta here!" she cried desperately. "Before Jim and Steve come back!"
It was Julie and me's turn to gape now. "Jim and Steve?" Julie
asked. "THE Jim and Steve?!"
"The one and only," Helga said. "They went to get a pair of hedge
clippers!"
"Don't tell me what for," I said, as Julie and I leapt to untie her.
We got Helga undone just as we heard tromping footsteps
approach the door. Julie and I looked at each other fearfully. If that
were really Jim and Steve, we could wind up imprisoned right beside
Helga. We were all buck naked, with nothing to resist them with. Not
even hedge clippers.
The door swung open. Helga screamed. Two glowering male faces
peered in at us, stepped inside. They were young men, muscular, naked,
with big, menacing erections. Jim and Steve.
"Looks like the other two have come to join us, Steve," Jim said.
"Where there's smoke, there's fire," Steve replied. "Too bad
Mistress Persephone fired us. Guess we'll have to torture them all by
ourselves!" The boys broke into queer juvenile cackles, rubbed their
sweaty palms together.
My mind raced. Then I remembered the one weapon of the female
gender. Deep down, I knew, they didn't just want to break us, they
wanted us to admire them, to thank them for dominating us. To beg for
it.
"Oh! You caught us," I said in my best Little Bo Peep voice. "We've
been very bad. You'll have to punish us." The nearer one, Jim, leered at
me, surprised but pleased. The male ego knows no bounds.
"Yes, I will punish you," he said. "And I'm going to fuck you before
and after, and maybe in-between too." He laughed. His hot, odiforous
breath bathed my face. He grasped my wrists and backed me roughly
against the unfinished wooden wall of the shed. Right beside where
Helga had so recently been made to pay her penance. Manacles dangled
just above my hands, waiting, jaws open. Jim's legs were planted
widely, dominantly. Menacingly his cock pointed directly at my dell.
"S-Sir? May I ask you a question?" I stammered.
"Yeah?" He reached over to secure my left wrist. A flash of my
knee. Suddenly he was bent over and bawling. Touchdown!
"How will you fuck me if your balls are burst?" I asked, putting a
finger to the corner of my mouth. Helga kicked him in the rump. Her big
toe lodged in his asshole. It took her a moment to remove it. Julie,
meanwhile, dispatched Steve with the same technique I'd used on Jim.
"How did you ever get involved with those bozos in the first
place?" I asked Helga as we headed out the door.
"I don't know," she panted. "I dropped in on a very nice couple in
the shed and played with them, but then they got called away. They
never came back. I was left tied up, and those two idiots eventually
showed up. God only knows how they wound up here."
"Well, I think check-out time has arrived," Julie said matter-of-
factly.
***
We bid adieu to the hostel, our pussies aching, our nipples sore. I
plunked down in the front seat of the Lamborghini, glad to get off my
tottering legs, only to wince as my bottom touched the leather.
Julie was at the wheel, trying to sit comfortably. Helga lay
stretched out on the back seat, her feet, clad in high heels, sticking out
my window. I gazed idly at the outhouse that sat a dozen yards in front
of us. Beyond, the forest closed in. Song birds flitted among the thick,
entangled branches. This was not sunny, Teflon-coated California, to
be sure.
"I think it's time we headed back to America," Julie observed.
"This vacation has worn me out, and both of you, from the looks of it." I
nodded my head, silently, wearily. Helga emitted a soft, compliant
groan. Julie started the car.
Suddenly two figures lurched from amongst the trees, charging
full bore right at us. They were out just beyond the wooden porta-
potty, but closing fast.
"Jim and Steve!" Julie cried. She sat paralyzed, like a fawn
caught in oncoming headlights. The engine idled.
"Julieee!" I yelled, then knew our escape was up to me. I reached
over and shot the Lamborghini forward. On a wild hunch, I aimed it for
the outhouse. I nicked the porta-potty's corner with the fender just as
Jim and Steve rounded the other side of it. With a loud THUMP! behind
me now I watched in the rearview mirror as the structure toppled right
onto our pursuers. Their knees must have buckled as it hit, for their
heads came splintering up out the top, which was now a side wall, and
which lay as the uppermost part of the structure.
On a crazy hunch I wheeled the Lamborghini around and pulled up
beside them. For once we might, just might, have the upper hand with
these two boys. It was a risk to stop the car and get out, but I took it
anyway. I was indeed becoming bolder, sassier. I wasn't the shy little
girl who'd never had a boyfriend anymore.
I stepped out of the Lamborghini. I left the engine running,
though. Sexily I walked over to the outhouse. Jim and Steve blustered
at me, half dazed, their necks sticking out of the topmost wall. But
they were trapped amidst the sharp shards of broken wood. It was as if
they had finally found a suitable coffin for themselves, I smirked to
myself. Well, I was going to bury them...alive.
A portion of the potty gleamed out at me, seemed to wink at me in
the sunlight, conspiratorily. It was surrounded by the remains of the
ruptured wooden wall. I spied the potty's flusher.
"Gentlemen," I purred. "It's time for your bath. I'm sorry, but in
our rustic surroundings there isn't anything so modern as steam.
However, there is something warm that we can surround your bodies
with, all the same." Gracefully I pressed the flusher. Lying on its side,
the toilet backed up with an ominous rumble. The two boys gaped
wide-eyed at me as shit suddenly flooded the entire inside of the
porta-potty. Soon they were buried right up to their necks in the feces
of everyone who had used the thing for the last week. Julie and Helga,
staring from the car, burst into laughter. Mocking laughter, the kind
only really beautiful women can deliver. I laughed too. It was the most
satisfying end to a vacation I've ever had.
30
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