Chapter 6: The Cream Pie Assembly
The air in the bedroom was now a thick cocktail of sweat, sex, and lavender linen spray. Carly’s mouth moved against Gabby with a frantic rhythm, her own need a secondary echo to the primary command. Johnny watched, transfixed, as his wife’s tongue delved into her best friend, Gabby’s head thrown back in silent praise, her fingers twisted in blonde hair.
Kelly disentangled herself from Sammy’s hungry mouth. She sat up, a queen surveying her court. “Alright. Enough warm-up.” Her voice, still hoarse from the staircase, cut through the wet sounds. “Everybody on your back. Now.”
There was a moment of shifting, of limbs untangling. Gabby guided Carly gently away, giving her a quick, filthy kiss before rolling onto the center of the bed. Sammy moved with a liquid grace, positioning herself beside Gabby. Carly, her eyes dazed, looked at Johnny. He gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. She laid back next to Sammy, their shoulders touching.
Four women. A row of open thighs, a spectrum of flesh and want. The late sun caught the wetness glistening on each of them, making the darker curls shine. The sight was so profoundly obscene Johnny felt his breath hitch. His cock, now fully hard again, throbbed against his stomach.
Kelly knelt at the foot of the bed, her green eyes locked on him. “Look at this, Johnny. Your buffet. You’re going to fuck every last one of us. You’re going to fill every hole with that hot fucking load of yours. You don’t get to stop until you’re dripping out of all of them. You understand me?”
He understood. The last shred of his former life, the one where he mowed the lawn and kissed his wife goodbye, dissolved in the heat of the room. He was an animal now. A vessel. He moved.
Gabby was first. He knelt between her spread legs, not bothering with finesse. He guided the swollen head of his cock through her soaked folds and pushed in with a single, deep thrust. The noise she made was a punched-out “oof,” then a rising moan. He set a punishing pace immediately, his balls slapping against her, the bedframe knocking a dull rhythm against the wall.
“Yeah, fucking use her,” Kelly narrated, her hand working between her own legs as she watched. “She’s been imagining this since she helped me plan it. Haven’t you, Gabs?”
“God, yes,” Gabby gasped, her hips rising to meet his plunges. Her pussy clenched around him, a tight, milking pressure. “Fuck, Johnny, right there, I’m gonna—”
Her orgasm hit her suddenly, a violent tremor that made her back arch off the bed, her mouth a silent scream. Her inner muscles spasmed around his shaft, pulling him deeper. It was the trigger. The coil in his own gut, already wound tight from watching Carly, from the sheer depravity of the line of women, snapped.
He pulled out of Gabby just as his own climax ripped through him. A thick, pearlescent rope of cum shot across her low