In another hidden nook, Kurt Kuhlmann, Angie Devi and Delphia Giles were taking advantage of Denise Allen’s absence. Kurt stood naked before the two women. His penis bulged forth, fully erect, fully blooded, ponderous with the heft of his otherworldly lust. Delphia held it in one hand. Kneeling, her face was off to one side. Angie, also kneeling, confronted Kurt’s dick head-on. She seemed amazed.

“See how big it is?” Delphia asked proudly. “Most black guys are like this.”

Angie had been with an Indian guy. Several. None of them sagged like this when fully erect. None of them pulsed this vibrantly for want of hole.

“Wow!!” was all she could say.

“You won’t be able to get it all the way down,” Delphia continued. “I like this one because it tastes good and it doesn’t puke up too soon. Some of ‘em do, you know.”

Angie reached for Kurt’s dick tentatively, perching it between three fingers. Kurt’s masculine odor resonated before her nostrils, causing her loins to flare. All the penises she’d sucked to date had been uncircumcised. This one had an uncloaked crown, huge and bald, with a peach-like split south of its urethra and a glowering, veiny shaft. This was a cock of some note. Brutish. Savage. Too, it reeked of Delphia’s pussy, an aroma with which Angie was already intimately acquainted. Angie drew a deeper whiff. Delphia smiled.

Angela Devi was a swarthy girl of Indian descent. She wore her considerable mane like a lion, combed back, not parted in any way. It cascaded down to the middle of her shoulder blades. When she threw her head back it fell shaggily into place. Her eyes sparkled with passion and curiosity. Her lips were appropriately sensual, her face a perfect oval. She was relatively new to the school, having recently moved to the district from New Jersey. Delphia had taken the South Asian girl under her wing. Today she was showing Angie the ropes.

Angie knew that Kurt was Denise Allen’s man. Everybody in the school knew it. Nor was today’s lesson about dick-sucking technique. Angie already had that part down pat. Today’s lesson concerned creeping with another woman’s man. Delphia wanted to show her new protégé how and when to steal a piece of ass and smile innocently at the owner later. Delphia was the acknowledged creep master at that school.

Kurt stood before the two girls with a smirk on his face, hands on his hips. His pants were clasped about his calves. His shirttails lapped against his thighs. He’d already fucked the living shit out of Delphia that morning, leaving her a quivering mass of gelatin in a chair, marinating in a widening wet spot. Seeing the opportunity, she’d suggested Angela as a top-off to their session. Kurt readily agreed.

Now Angie sniffed at his cock in lieu of fellatio. She pulled up her t-shirt to expose her breasts. These ripe, supple apples flumped from her bra readily. She caressed her nipples gently as she considered Kurt’s penis. These rosettes hardened predictably; a smidgen of titty sweat escaped, coagulated and trickled. Delphia looked on with interest. She slipped her hand into Angie’s panties to caress her vulva.

Gradually Angie was overcome with sensory palpitations. Her tits, her pussy and her olfactories were in play. Of these, the piquant scent of Kurt’s dick added the most potent nitroglycerin to Angie’s roaring bushfire. In her mind raged a fantastic panorama of colors, light and sound, a boiling nebula of burgeoning lust sharpened acutely by the knowledge that, shortly, this penis would burst alive in her mouth and fill her stomach with spew.

Closing her eyes, Angie moved in for the suck. She felt the heat and the heft of a king cock resonating at her lips first, then her teeth and finally her tongue. Her mouth widened by degrees, tasting tentatively as she slowly inhaled his girth. Her lips bubbled over his helm to close about his shaft with a sudden pop. Early on she realized that this knobjob would be unique in her experience. Kurt’s dick was a pole beyond the pale. She tickled his peehole with the very tip of her tongue as he moved deeper into her throat.

At five inches in Angie felt her windpipe cut off. Deftly, she clasped his foreskin with her lips and drew this excess skin over his crown as she withdrew. From experience, she knew that this move, combined with lavish tongue action, is the key to a scintillating blowjob. Using her tongue tip she lapped at Kurt’s underpud as a cat laps milk, and finished the pullback with a kiss pucker at the helm. She drew a deep cock whiff to reinvigorate her premise.

Now she repeated her cock inhalation move, delving further down the pole by a half-inch with each iteration, and establishing a rhythm that encouraged Kurt to insert and withdraw in unison. The taste of her saliva added seasoning to the aroma of his glowering dick. In time, bubbles of her spittle arose, coating his penis in translucence. Angie became more and more lost in the joy of the suck.

Angie felt Delphia’s middle finger stroking her clitoris erect. She began to roil her hips, seeking insertion. She took Delphia’s other hand and drew it to her breast, confident that Delphia would know what to do. Slowly, almost awkwardly, Angie removed her Levi’s. Kurt gripped her lion’s mane and continued his fervent assault on her throat. He, too, was blinded by the exquisite slather of his penis sliding back and forth across Angie’s tongue.

With her panties finally around her ankles, Angie guided Kurt into a sitting position that she might more comfortably suck him from all fours. She guided Delphia to a position behind her. No stranger to the back lick, Delphia lined up her lips and nostrils between Angie’s simmering butt cheeks. Angie’s expansively coifed, raven-black furburger drifted all the way up the line of her split, finally disappearing into the soft hairs of her lower back. Using her thumbs, Delphia pried Angie’s buttocks open. She began to lap away at both Angie’s sopping holes, lifting the Asian girl to new vistas of sexual gratification. With a dick in her mouth and a tongue in her ass, Angie knew new dimensions of bliss. Her whole body shivered with elation. She fondled her own tits with one hand, fondled Kurt’s testicles with the other. The three teens writhed through the sensational run-up to climax.

Kurt’s charging penis now became the center of Angie’s world. Clearly, the boy was in the throes of agony. On the one hand, Angie’s throat was a perfect home for his semen. It was warm and wet. Her tongue worship was exquisite. She made sure to coddle every centimeter of his cock in throat. To Kurt, even Delphia’s sumptuous pussy wasn’t this comprehensive. This was heaven.

On the other hand, any eruption would prove a temporary balm to his burn. His ultimate nut might not even match the ethereal delight of the run-up. So many men have attempted this delicate balancing act. Kurt had perfected it with his girlfriend Denise, whose pussy was known to shiver the best of them. Kurt existed in an agony of ecstasy.

From below, Angie’s only wish was that Delphia’s tongue might extend to match Kurt’s length. She longed to have her vaginal chasm filled with heft. She, too, rode the razor blade between continuance and completion. She, too, was in an agony borne of lust.

Kurt recognized Angie’s angst. He knew she was riding the crest of a fuckwave leading to total capitulation above and below. Tearing himself free from his own haze, Kurt bolted his chair, shoved Delphia aside from her oral worship, and mounted Angie from behind—he standing, she on all fours. Now his steaming penis found and penetrated her spit-lubricated asshole without taking aim. Angie howled the opening screech of her orgasm. Deeper and deeper Kurt pressed until his way north collapsed about his length and he was impeded by the wobble of her buttocks. His penis disappeared fully inside her fundament. Angie collapsed to the ground. Only her ass remained aloft, borne there by the Adonis and his fragrant penis. Angie palsied, straightened and slumped—blinded by the throb and the concussion of insertion. She was bereft, lost in a world of prurience.

Kurt, however, was rejuvenated. He pulled his penis from her ass along with a newly exotic fragrance—Asian doodihole sweat. Now he leapt for Delphia. With her thighs akimbo, she caught him in mid-leap. As with Angie, his erect penis snagged her vaginal opening without taking aim. She gasped at the sudden widening. Delphia wrapped her calves about his back. From long experience, they began to assault each other, mindlessly, heedlessly, only seeking to relieve themselves of the razor sharp passions firing their loins. They kissed and groped fiendishly. Kurt’s rampant penis found and plundered every one of Delphia's vaginal passion eddies. Like her friend Angie, Delphia soon swooned beneath Kurt’s savagery. This is why she’d come. She gripped him in an ague of preternatural desire.

But Kurt was not yet finished.

Leaving Delphia in a blue haze of electric jaggedness, Kurt rolled Angie into the standard missionary position. Her nakedness was astonishing to see. Her ample tits lolled into her armpits. Her ass, round and delicious, steamed like a tomcat from its recent workout.

And her pussy!! As yet unencumbered by dick, Angie’s pussy was beautiful to behold. It bulged from between her legs like a peach, covered in silken black pubes that curled lavishly about her bubbled labia. These silken cilia whispered downward to encompass her taint and sphincter before diminishing up the crack of her ass. This was a grown-ass woman, ya heard? And sizzling beneath this lush forest was Angie’s pussy, pink and wet and inviting.

Kurt now directed his penis into this sizzle. Angie was still recovering from their earlier anal session. One could almost see waves of fragrant heat arising from her bush, bristling and vibrant, with as yet no cooling jism to dampen her burn. Kurt intended to rectify this oversight. Delphia already coddled a cache of his sperm. Now it was Angie’s turn.

Having already extracted humongous orgasms from both girls, Kurt was more than ready to flush pent-up sex effluent from his testes. Often, men are ready to inseminate a woman shortly after breaching their vaginas. Manually restraining the male orgasm allows it to build and multiply until a mammoth eruption is imminent. Kurt felt such a shattering release burgeoning in his nuts. This wasn’t going to be any kissy/feely, lovey/dovey, get-acquainted session. Angie was going to get fucked this day.

Kurt luxuriated in ecstasy as his boner slipped into her fiery crease. Her pubic hairs scraped him delightfully upon entry, inch by inch, as his penis sought the nighted depths of her steamy sex hole. Angie sucked him ever deeper inside. She’d already detonated; now she reverted to procreation mode, that instinctive, built-in, primitive role women have for populating the planet. She suckled at the missile plundering her plumbing, seeking to mollify it, to rend its impetus and thus relieve it of its love juices. Kurt felt every fibrillating compression as he probed forward, each squeeze fraught with the prospect of fury. When finally he was fully enveloped, Kurt groaned a death gargle. Angie encircled his pudenda in her vice-like cervix. Kurt withdrew, tying another knot in the frenzy of wind-up. They began to fuck.

There exists a point where a man’s restraint builds past the point of necessary release. Kurt reached that point very early in his missionary congress with Angie. Three strokes in Kurt was ready to fire his load. He clenched past these first three and held on for ten more. Each iteration was agony. Kurt’s mind was a tumult of conflicting emotions, sexual imperatives and penile burn.

When finally the moment came, Kurt’s over-pressurized penis exploded, pumping a megaload of semen into Angela’s heated cunt. He held himself immobile atop her as rush after rush of his essence coated her womb in slime.

This ejaculation did not relieve his erection, however.

Kurt’s build-up was of such magnitude that his boner survived this massive, shattering climax. Whereas usually a penis goes soft by degrees after cum-launch, Kurt’s penis remained painfully erect deep inside Angie’s cum-sloppy cunt, marinating in a sticky morass of its own making. There was no lust behind this anomaly. Only the wildly excess, leftover blood from his first nut elevated his member in the pulsating darkness of Angie’s poonan.

Kurt was exhausted. His stomach burned. His clothes were soaked in sweat. His breath came in great, straggling gasps. This post-coital swoon matched any he’d ever experienced. But his dick remained.

Now he rolled over onto his back, breathing deeply, cock arched upward from his abdomen—not achingly triumphant but certainly not cowed. Angie lay next to him, fanning her hairy cunt, awash in sweat. On the other side of Angie, Delphia sat on her haunches. She’d watched Kurt and Angela fuck with increasing interest. The girl was a connoisseur. Kurt’s enduring boner came as a shock; she was sure that his drainage in Angie’s crevice would leave him bereft.

Gingerly, Delphia stepped across her two friends and took up a position on Kurt’s other side. She snuggled into his armpit. This was Denise Allen’s boyfriend, she knew. But Denise wasn’t around today. And Kurt’s dick was still hard.

What to do….what to do.

She reached across Kurt’s stomach to stroke his cock. So long! So thick!! Ten minutes before this she’d coddled this cock in her own vagina. It had mollified two queen pussies in that span. And it was still rampant. Why should that fucking bitch Denise keep this whole thing to herself? He was too good for her.

Delphia drew her palm up to her nose. She wanted to draw a surreptitious whiff of Kurt and Angie’s sexual congress to fire her nascent libido. Using her other hand she took a swipe at her own pussy and sniffed it. She wanted to compare herself against her friend Angie.

“Mine smells better,” she noted.

This was not true. Though both her hands smelled of pussy burn, Angie’s pussy hand also smelled of male cum. Delphia’s did not. This added ingredient is the tipping point between a scorched pussy and a well-scorched pussy. Kurt’s penis reeked of both.

Delphia continued to toy with Kurt’s boner childishly. She rested her head on his chest and looked on in wonder as her machinations caused him to burp up residual semen, white and creamy, sudsy, laden in micro-bubbles. She wondered how the bubbles came about. Occasionally she bent down to lap this seepage away. Then she would kiss and suckle his pud worshipfully, imagining him to be Jules. And, indeed, their two cocks were comparable. Perhaps this is why Delphia so enjoyed creeping with Denise’s boyfriend.

Now her mind drifted to her ex-boyfriend Jules as it often did. Why had she played him so falsely? What had she been thinking that day? Yeh, he’d cheated on her. Was that any reason for her to fill his mouth with other men’s cum? She could have fucked those guys, washed, and walked away. No one would have been the wiser. She and Jules would have been even.

But no.

She had to make a spectacle out of it. She had to go and make Jules suckle that cum-sloppy cunt that day. What man worth his salt is going to forget or forgive? Today, with Kurt Kuhlman’s cockhead nestled between her lips, Delphia felt a twinge of regret. She wondered where Jules might be.

Delphia’s diffident toying soon elicited Kurt’s sexual imperative. A hard dick needs a home, and soon, lest it lose its impetus. If a man can choose to sleep after sex, he will. Delphia’s playful blowjob kept that possibility at bay.

Delphia noticed the dissipation of Kurt’s stupor. He remained erect throughout, but there was something about his breathing pattern that told her he was ready for another go. Taking his penis in hand, she clambered atop him, pausing only to insert him, closing her eyes as he slid, inch by inch, into her pinkness. Now she humped him like a hula dancer, roiling her stomach and her pussy in waves up and down his shaft. Mindful of his needs, Delphia scrubbed his cockhead opulently against the G-spot at the very back of her pussy. Ever and anon she circumlocuted about that ultra-sensitive bauble, kissing it, loving it, sucking it with her muscular cunt. She began priming him for another nuclear detonation.

“When Denise gets him back, he’s not going to be able to get it up,” Delphia noted with grim determination.

Angie Devi now took interest in the proceedings. Like Kurt, she’d been adrift in her post-coital swoon. Her pussy was scorched, her mind a miasma of violent, clashing imagery. These dissipated with time. Seeing Delphia mounted atop Kuhlie caused Angela’s nascent clitoris to twitch involuntarily. Though her cunt was saturated with cum, Angie saw an opportunity. Delphia’s cowgirl mount was vertical. She held herself aloft, working Kurt’s dick side to side and back and forth with her pelvis. Kurt’s head was free.

Surreptitiously, Angie drew her bottom towards this open target. Kurt’s eyes were closed in reverence. He didn’t notice Angie’s move.

Lost in the silken joy of Delphia’s mounted thrusting, Kurt didn’t notice Angie until the wicked smell of her cunt assailed his nostrils. He opened his eyes to the vision of her hairy split. It was all he could see. Angie straddled his face. Her strong sexual odor immediately fired his libido. Delicately, he nuzzled his nose into her dripping cleft, heedless of the semen oozing therein. Angie took this as a yes. She pressed her cunt into Kurt’s face just as Delphia had pressed her cunt into his loins.

The two girls sated themselves at Kurt’s expense. North and south, Kurt’s tongue and his penis endured a comprehensive thrilling. Delphia, impaled upon the larger appendage, came first. She twirled herself about his cock, driving faster and faster as her needs waxed ever more virulently, until finally the rubber band snapped and launched her shrieking into orbit. She flew there, unencumbered by time or space, until the rushing winds of orgasm slowly subsided, and she realized that the cock pulsating in her pussy was undiminished, and might require further maintenance to suckle its seed.

Delphia swapped places with Angie and took up a mount astride Kurt’s tongue. This pliable muscle soothed her as she wickered down from orbit, pussy lips glowing redly from her latest climactic surge. Angie gratefully impaled herself on his cock, taking up where Delphia left off. Soon, the sticky sounds of their tri-une intercourse—the grunts, the sibilant moans, the thump of crashing pubic mounds, the seethe of well-licked pussy lips—resumed.

When he was ready to cum (and not a second before) Kurt leapt up to tower over both girls, holding his cock steadily before them. Delphia and Angie moved in on their knees, awaiting his spew, mouths open. Kurt jacked himself once, then twice more. A towering fountain of jism erupted from his peehole, leaving a slender white stripe the length of Angie’s face. Kurt’s second white stripe caught Delphia in the eye. Every stripe thereafter caught one girl or the other in her tonsils. Kurt’s aim was true.

Angie now took his softening appendage into her mouth. Lovingly, she drained his remaining jism. Delphia assisted by gently squeezing Kurt’s balls.

“Next time, I get the last suck,” Delphia informed.

Angie gave her some side-eye.