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Dear Diary: Blah blah blah… how boring. Why do they always make these end-of-tournament “parties” do dreadfully dreary. This time, after the food, ten of us escaped and slinked up to one of the guys’ rooms. Out came some beer, music and dancing.

A beer and a half, and I was wobbling quite nicely. I suppose that’s what you get when you’re small and I expect that was the intent, and I didn’t care. I was happy as anything just to dance away pretty much oblivious to anything around me. Two of the guys were dancing with me, but I pretty much took little notice of them, and their attentions, entranced with the music and my movements.

Of course hotel rooms aren’t often very roomy, so there just wasn’t an awful amount of room for dancing. When I tottered up on to the coffee table, my new friends happily pursued me.

Mom told me I couldn’t wear it cause it was too REVEALING and INAPPROPRIATE, but I packed it anyhow. I love the red satin, the spaghetti straps, and of course the guys appreciate the low-cut front. The skirt only went down about half way to my knees, and it had matching thong panties. It came with a small jacket, but I didn’t bother with that.

My groupies were certainly appreciative of my attire, and were quick to attach their hands to my dress, roaming unreservedly over the fabric. Needless to say, the combination of dancing (which often gets me drippy anyway) and four hands fondling me, was raising the humidity in the room somewhat. So I was in delighting in all the wonderful sensations, as I just continued my heedless dancing. curiously, their hands were paying particular attention to my chest. Now I’m not all that big up top, but they didn’t seem to be bothered, and I’m sure my nipples were shamelessly pushing through the fabric. In any case, their hands didn’t have any reluctance to slide beneath my dress and become more familiar with them directly. The bare contact there against my skin was astonishingly exciting.

They were quite soft with me, and quickly had my straps over my shoulders so I could agreeably slip my arms out of my dress and carry on dancing, my dress pulled down below my ribs.

Now I don’t know if you’ve ever been dancing a good bit drunk on a coffee table, topless in high heels with two guys’ hands all over you, but it was inevitable that I took a tumble. Fortunately, I dropped my bottom on the soft side of the table and landed on the sofa. Without any delay, my new helpers were again beside me, quick to resume their handy work. Now that I wasn’t doing so much dancing, I was an easy target for their lips. My right-hand man keenly fixed his mouth to mine, whilst mister lefty tackled a perky nipple. I of course, not one to waste a good time, enthusiastically kissed right back, and worshiped the sensations they were producing.

The two occasionally switched jobs, looking after to both breasts, and my lips., while their hands meandered anywhere they wished. They certainly wasted little time finding their way up my skirt, exploring the tops of my thighs, my tummy, my soft panties. Of course, there was absolutely no resistance from me, etimesgut escort my legs cooperating to allow easy access. I think it was lefty who first got his hand under my thigh, lifting it up and out. Mister right, not to be outdone did the same, his hand sliding up my thigh and slithered its way inside the leg of my panties. Of course he could immediately feel how soggy I was, and took little time moistening his fingers. This was utter delight for me and I gasped at the first touch, my stomach muscles tightening, but only able to make slight movements, held as I was. A second hand stumbled into my underwear and found my moist little place, investigating all my nooks and crannies. Both seemed to be everywhere down there: rubbing my dainty pink lips, slipping inside, bumping over my excited, little magic button.

I came awfully quick?. A huge, lingering orgasm.

Sometime after my tremors had pretty much died away, someone had pulled my panties to one side. I could feel the cooler air on my exposed skin, as a zillion fingers continued to occupy themselves with my greasy-wet girly parts. Of course my friends were still kissing my mouth and chest, so I was quite busy with all the divine sensations, taking little notice of a different-feeling explorer smearing my slipperiness all over itself. I was quickly building up again towards another eruption.

In hindsight, it was stupid of me not to recognize the new prowler until it had already dived smoothly into my little burrow, coercing me open to indulge its size. Since I suppose I was not expecting such a colossal invasion, I gasped and tried to sit up. I was completely surprised to discover another guy between my legs, the final inches of his thickness disappearing inside my slippery little pink. He smiled at me, with his body pressed up against my thighs, his balls against my rear. I now saw that other than myself and my three acquaintances, everyone else had left.

I looked back to my intruder who gave me a questioning look, as if to ask if it were okay to go on. At the same time his hips pulled back, and propelled his stiffy back inside. I moaned and dropped back on the sofa to the persistent care of the others.

It wasn’t long before the tide crashed in on me again, my intense convulsions having an overwhelming effect on the monster plunging within me. It became even harder, thicker, and prolonged my orgasm, until the giant gave a final deep push, and exploded inside me.

I was breathless, even though my attendants had been considerate enough to focus on my breasts and let me breathe. Mister trespasser rolled back with me in tow, lifting me off the sofa and landing inelegantly on the floor. I landed on my knees, my face and chest flattened on his. He held me close and I rested in his strong arms.

My other friends had a different idea, and I heard a quiet discussion between them. I figured they were enjoying the sight of me, ass in the air, especially when I felt a thick glob trickle out, slime a trail on my skin, then soak into my out-of-the-way panties. I couldn’t see what they were otele gelen escort up to, but felt a hand on my rear, and fingers probing inside to release more thick gobbets. Inelegantly, he stuffed his shaft in, clutched my hips and rode me like a rabbit.

He wasn’t really rough, just, I suppose, single-minded in his work. I, of course, was delighted with his efforts, enjoying the swift return of a growing craving. His implement got even bigger and harder on his way to detonation, which put me in the fast lane toward a similar outcome. Abruptly, he pulled the thing right out, much to my annoyance so close as I was. I expected his delivery on my rear or back, but astonishingly I was filled yet again. This felt different though. It was mister right, or left, I didn’t know which was witch; they had swapped chores. This one’s utensil had that oh so popular mushroomed tip which he used with fabulous effectiveness, popping it in, and all the way out, with each plunge. Sometimes he would just work the end with little movements, rapidly bobbing inside then out again. Obviously he had some practice at this marvelous aptitude. I came, and came, and came, while he continued dipping endlessly inside my seizing body. It was incredible how he could pop that thing back in, over and over, overpowering the muscle clenched at my opening.

Again, mister right and lefty, swapped their mission, and unrelentingly plundered my special girly parts. This went on, and on; their switching places, my countless orgasms.

Finally, one of them relented, and with a final deep shuddering push, surrendered a generous gooey donation. His droopy slid free, quickly substituted by mister mushroom who took up his wonderful game. Hanging on for what seemed like ages, he finally let loose his own torrent to join the slippery blend of all our goop.

I got up, pulled my cum-soaked panties off, then lifted my dress up and off to keep even more goo from getting on it. Sticking my own finger in me, triggered a rather abundant leak, which ran over both my hand and down my leg.

Naturally, watching everything I was doing, two of my new friends were obviously up for seconds. Mister trespasser, whom had cuddled me all the while misters left and right serviced my needs, got a shove on his chest to sit him down on the sofa. I sauntered up to him, knelt between his knees, then held his stiffy in both hands. Smiling, I brought the business end up to my lips and drew him into my mouth. He was salty-musky tasting from his squirty stuff, and my slippy stuff; not that I minded one bit. I gagged a few times on the way down, though mostly concentrated my handiwork (or rather mouthy-work) on the bits which I’ve had a few occasions to noticed generate a swift outcome. And out come it did. Someone would have to teach this boy how to hold on longer, but I didn’t care, letting half his spunky stuff drool down my chin. He didn’t hang on for long, but sure delivered well on the tangy slime. I let his sponginess plop out of my mouth, swallowing the remaining portion and moved over to mister right. It might have kızılay escort been lefty, I don’t know, but it definitely wasn’t mister mushroom.

As I started my way down his stick, hands at my rear were persuading my hips upwards. I got up on my feet, never letting go of the stiffy in my mouth, so I was practically bent over double. Still awfully slippery down below, or rather up in the air now, mister mushroom wedged his bloated acorn between my delicate petals, and slid inside.

It was a bumpy ride, but I did my best for mister right. I think he got the worst of the deal. Mushroom man didn’t employ his earlier popping technique much, rather he bounced my bottom off his hips, energetically plunging in with a ravenous ambition. It was quite nice, but I think I was all out of orgasms, yet I have to give him full credit for his unrelenting rhythm that he sustained for a hell of a long time before his second gush. I dribbled sticky cum as he pulled out of me.

Mister right was kind enough to be patient with me, so I freed him from my mouth, knelt straddling his hips, and neatly skewered myself on his weapon. He liked playing with my little titties, still sticky from my cummy drool, as I moved my hips like a rolling wave, He was already well on the way to an eruptive finish before I had mounted him, and suddenly squirted his own orgasm inside me again.

I wiggled my hips a bit as his tremors subsided, kissed him, and rolled to the side onto the couch leaving a sticky puddle on the cushion. I noticed the other two were obviously interested again. Jeez!. Now, I’m not that interested in watching guys pull their puds, so I sat on the coffee table between them, took one in each hand, and started to work on their stiffies. Guys don’t really appreciate a dry rub, so I nipped one in my mouth to slick it up again, then did the same for mister mushroom.

Now mushroom was an especially fascinating toy, and as a result certainly got an unfair amount of attention from me. But it was the other lad who launch first, with far less gusto than earlier, halfheartedly lobbing his stuff on my hand and arm.

With less things to occupy my mind, I put all my efforts in one place. Both hands worked together with my mouth, and the recently donated spunky goo, quickly made things especially slippery. But he just kept going on and on and on, and to be honest I was getting worn-out. Fortunately, he had pity on me. I got all the gooey stuff that was on my arm, and scooped up the puddle on the table that had leaked out of me, and spread it on my chest where he rubbed that mushroomy thing all around. I’m not all that big up top, but he didn’t have any trouble sliding his stiffy between my boobs as I held them together. He must have been enjoying himself quite a bit, because it didn’t take too much more time before a spout hit me under the chin, and spattered my neck.

I locked myself in the washroom to keep the boys at bay, and cleaned up in the shower. Rinsing out my panties, I had to put then on wet, but cummy drops still spotted the front of my skirt. I hijacked someone’s toothbrush, and was soon all freshly scrubbed and back in the room, where I noticed the colossal scent of sex in the air. The guys had partially dressed, and opened the window. The guys all looked kind of nervous as if they had done something terribly wrong to me, so I kissed each of them, and giggled as I let myself out.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32