When You’ve Got the Right Outfit…

When you’ve got the right outfit, anything is possible.

Like, for example, it’s possible that you’d find yourself in the center of a lovely little group grope, surrounded at 9pm by some of your favorite-est people, being pleasured in the nicest ways possible.

We thought we were the only ones planning on using the room at that point in the evening, but before we could even strip down to our skivvies, another couple began canoodling on the other side of the bed.

“Quick, stake our claim,” I mumbled to my pals, as we all know how annoying it is to tussle over bed space during a group scene. We dove for the bed at the same instant they did; as a result the real estate was fairly evenly divided.

The only problem was that theirs was a two-person play-date while ours involved four people. Er…on average. Usually. With some rotation.

Wait, should I worry that it took so many people to please me that night? (Seriously, I’m taking a moment here to wonder if this sort of thing is ruining me for one-on-one sex. Will I be satisfied in the future with a single partner? *Angst*)

Hm. Nah, I think I’m good.

Having on a really good outfit enabled me to dispense with panties forthwith, bare my breasts in a flash and still have the floppiest of my bits covered. My friends settled in around me as such: a man who lives for pussy licking was…well, licking me, while a married couple took care of my upper half.

Conveniently enough, the folks fucking next to us were in range for some accessory groping.

To the extend that someone can have a plan in a situation like this one, I’d planned to allow my friends to have the run of my body for maybe five or ten minutes. Just long enough to give me a polite little orgasm or two. Certainly not long enough to make a spectacle of myself.

But once things got rolling, I lost all track of space and time. I’ve been licked many times before by that particular man, but he’d brought his “A” game that night. The couple on my breasts formed a really nice accompaniment, especially since the male half (at my request) unzipped so that I could tightly grip his cock while I came.

I pulled a pillow over my head and screamed like I was being murdered. Any resolutions about keeping the orgasms polite, sedate or low-key flew right out the window; I demanded more licking, more fingers, just MORE.

And they gave it. When the man on my pussy tired briefly, he called in reinforcements in the form of a woman (or two? I’m not sure…) who held my legs open and licked while he took a short break. I just screamed and arched and ground myself onto their tongues.

Later, much later, I ran across a friend who I thought had just arrived. After a hugged greeting, he whispered in my ear how hot he’d found it to watch me being pleasured like that.

I pulled away. “You were watching that?”

“Of course,” he told me calmly. “Everyone was watching.”

“How could everyone have been watching? It only went on for a few minutes!” I protested.

“A few minutes? You were coming for a half an hour!” he told me.

A half an hour? Watched by a crowd? My mind boggled. I confirmed with several other independent bystanders that there was indeed a crowd and that the stated time limit was correct.

I also found out later that during one very brief lull in the action, I told the man licking me that if he stopped, I’d kill him. And I have no memory whatsoever of saying this.

Wow. So rude!

I don’t know if I should be more ashamed of my rudeness, or loudness, or greedy use of time, space and sexual resources.

Or—if I should be ashamed of no part of it at all.

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