Kitty Spencer - Three-way weekend

She was crying, tears of real joy pouring from her eyes; then they fluttered closed and she released the Negro's now limp penis, its softness slipping from her tightly pursued lips with a slight pop as, at the same time, the cock withdrew from her satiated rectum with a wet, obscene sucking sound.

Elaine fell immediately across Nick's thighs, exhausted, her surrender almost complete. Almost… Because at that moment she opened her eyes and saw the midget who had been fucking her from behind… Almost… because just then the stranger stepped from the shadows, and she stared with disbelief at her ex-husband… Almost… because, one after another, all of the guests took turns on her, keeping her hot wet cunt and soft sucking mouth filled with male flesh.

And she loved every minute of it!

Carlo sat back in his chair, crossed his long legs, and surveyed the plaza. There were not many people in the square and those who were strolling up and down were mostly San Franciscians. Another spring, thought Carlo, the beginning of another season. Soon, there would be crowds in the square, crowds of eager tourists, all ripe for the plucking…

Trust Benito to be late, he thought, I have to bloody well wait while he takes all day to get here.

Just then he saw Benito's short, stocky figure hurrying across the plaza toward him. Benito spotted him, waved and broke into a trot; Carlo raised one hand in a languid salute.

"Sorry. Sorry." Benito was out of breath. He sat down at the table, looking intently at Carlo.

"Where did you get that sun tan?" he asked Carlo.

"In the mountains," was the brief reply. "Weren't you there at all this year?"

Benito looked confused. "I… I haven't been well," he muttered. "My nerves were all shot to pieces. I've been resting at home…"

Christ, thought Carlo, if he's spent the winter at home with that monster of a mother, no wonder he looks pale.

"Have you got the apartment?" Benito asked.

Carlo nodded.

"Same as last year?"

Carlo nodded again.

There was a brief silence. "You heard about Nino, I suppose," Carlo finally remarked.

Benito shook his head. "I haven't heard much news lately."

"Then you'll doubtless be interested to hear that Nino – our dear friend Nino – married Sue Miller, the heiress. Her father had not only millions, but multi-millions. I checked," Carlo said. "We can't afford to make mistakes over details like that."

Benito didn't answer. They sat quietly for a few minutes, each lost in his own thoughts.

Carlo's mind was busily reviewing the season's prospects. It was going to be a good year, he could feel it in his bones. He had dumped the travel agency job. All sweat and precious little profit. Now he had some real contacts, the kind who would put him onto the really lucrative stuff. He leaned further back in his chair, his long legs stretched out before him. The details were nicely sewn up already. He would be getting the lowdown on every well-heeled arrival in San Francisco, even before any of them hit town. There were some very interesting projects lined up. Marceau and the Count had the hots just thinking about the parties they were going to organize; Carlo knew how their minds worked… And his new partner should add a new wrinkle to the game.

Benito looked uncomfortable. He wriggled on his seat. "Let's get the apartment settled," he suggested.

"The rent is higher than last year," Carlo said smoothly. "But that's only to be expected. Nothing else is changed."

A pale ray of April sunshine suddenly brightened the plaza. They both looked up just as the slim figure approached their table.

Carlo rose, saying to Benito, "Here she comes now."

Benito's eyes twinkled in recognition as the lovely blonde with the piercing blue eyes settled into the chair Carlo pulled out for her.

"Benito, you remember Elaine, don't you," Carlo said.

"Yes," Benito answered, "I remember Elaine…"