Poncho Ilia - With this ring, I thee lust

"Only if you're a good rocking, mama," one of them said. There was a general laugh.

"If I do it for all of you and make it good, will you vote for me?"

"Deal," one of them said. There was a muted chorus of assent I whispered to Roalt. "You first?" He took my arm. "How come him first?" someone wanted to know.

"Because I'm bigger than you and can whup your ass," Roalt said.

"I knew there was a good reason," the other one said, laughing.

I crawled into the back of the bus, nervous, not sexy at all, a hell of a lot scared now. I took off the dress and put it over the front seat and Roalt was playing with me, squeezing my tits, running his hand up my legs to find my twat, which was scared into an odd dry condition. "You sure you wanta do this?"

"I'm sure," I said. He put a finger into me and found some moisture and began to play with my clit, rubbing the wetness from my soft insides on it and, in spite of my nervousness, I began to feel sexy. As I said, I'm an easy lay. I fell down on my back like a bug and opened my legs and, with some of the cats outside looking in and saying, "Hurry it up, you fucker," I took Roalt in for the second night and fondled his body and found him to be as sexy as he'd been before and had a beauty before he blasted his come into me.

Up until then, I've never had the fun of having more than one man a night. I was steamed up from Roalt's good rocking and I just lay there while another stud, and it was so damned dark I couldn't recognize any of them, crawled up and drove his cock into me, sliding right in on Roalt's come and filling me up, but not as much as Roalt. He must have been an inexperienced kid, because he came just as soon as he was in me and his cock wilted away. I didn't try to push him off, because I knew they'd laugh at him if he came out too quickly, and he lay there a little while, only moving his ass as his cock dwindled and fell out and I felt a stream of come begin to ooze down my thigh.

I was looking ahead to number three and liking the idea. The quick come in me by the second kid felt good.

I mean, I like to have a man come in me. I like the feel of his swelling cock and the tender clasping of his arms and the way his whole body comes to attention. I like it. And then there was number three and he was almost as quick, but not to quick for me to work up a good one, driving my ass up to help him, moaning with it, coming as he jetted his come into me and then four and after that it was a glorious blur.

None of them was sophisticated enough to want to share me. They came one at a time. I lost count. I went into the sex daze, my body ablaze, my cunt wet, oozing. I felt the quilt under me get wetter and wetter with escaping come and I was so like slick with it that they used my legs as a guide and sort of skidded into my waiting cunt. I was a perpetual fucking machine. My ass kept pounding and twitching and my legs kept twining up and around and my arms kept reaching for man after man and I lost count and just lived for the next one to drive into me, feeling sexier than I'd ever felt in my life, feeling like the eternal woman, the machine put on earth for man's pleasure, and I didn't care if they came and came in me, because each time I felt them grunt, heave, come, jet, I felt a new little thrill of lust and my cunt would squeeze and bite and make it good for them and I'd come and moan and cry out and sob and laugh with it it was so good. I mean, I'd had good ones before, but never, never an unending stimulation of my cunt and my ciit so that it seemed I never stopped coming and my tight pussy got looser and looser and my thighs were slick with come and it was up over my belly where one poor guy came before he got it in, wetting down my bush with it and making me smell like semen, that rich, starchy, warm odor, and guy after guy came and once I heard someone say, "It's my turn for seconds."

They were going around twice and I was in a wild, blind, lovely daze of pure sex, coming, my cunt pounding, my body trembling and crying out for more.

Finally I was dozing, weak, happy. Not thinking. I was the best fucked girl in the world and I just wanted to sleep forever. They all crowded in and held my head in someone's lap and I heard Roalt saying, "You all right, mama?" I laughed.

"We gon' have the sexiest fuckin' queenie in the world," someone said. "Wow."

You may think that I've sort of shortened the story of my gang bang. I guess I have. I mean, well, like I said, after the first down and come with Roalt and then two or three more, I really went into sort of a hazy state. I can't really remember the details. If you're a broad and wonder how it would be to be the center of a Hells Angels gang bang, I'd say, it won't hurt you, and it might do you some good, but you've got to be sort of strong. If you're one of these gals who gets tender after getting your jollies once, forget it. I don't get tender. I just get ready for more. I haven't got a tough cunt. No one has ever said that. I mean, it's not like the cunt of some old whore, with teeth in it, and when I was young it must have been even more tender than it is now, but even I was sore for a week after that wild party.

I try, now and then, to remember the details. I'd like to have living color pictures of that night, in close-up detail, so I could study the size and shape of every cock that went into me. Cocks do vary in size and shape and there was a good assortment, small, medium, long, slim, big, fat. But I missed all the fine details because I was Miss Fucking Sex Assed Queen and loving every minute of it and it was, in effect, like having one continuous man. After a while they seemed the same. They had cocks and they grunted when they came in me and their come was wet and slick and I could feel it jet out into me, because they were all young, horny studs.

I don't regret it. But I've never done it again. Oh, I'd admit, if pressed, to being four in a bed, two broads and two studs, and three in a bed, both ways, two gals and two guys, not at the same time. But as things went, I learned that quality is better than quantity, after that first wild rush of youthful lust.

Still, I'd give a couple of grand for pictures of that night. I know that if I could lie on my bed and watch myself that night, with ten young, horny studs taking turns, I'd cream without even touching myself, for when I think of it these days it takes on the aspects of being one of the sexiest nights of my whole life.

Ten studs. Not quite a whole football team. And it was me, my cunt, my body that felt every one of them and milked them and drained them so that all of them were smug and satisfied. And me floating in come. I like the story about the French girl who saved all the come she took and then put it into a bath tub and wallowed in it. I like the feel of come, like the smell of it, the taste of it. But I don't think that French thing actually happened, because come loses its white color in minutes and, if kept in a bottle, gets thin and unexciting.

"You were Homecoming Queen, weren't you?" Julie asked.

"Yeah," I said, dumping the dirty dishes into the sink, "but that was done by popular vote."

"You don't want to spend the rest of your life slinging hash, do you?" Julie asked

"It hasn't done bad by you," I said. Julie had a nice house overlooking the Marina and she wore nice clothes and drove a new bad Buick.

"I didn't do it slinging hash," she said. "These big spenders here think a nickel tip is generous. I did it with my first husband's insurance money, honey."

"Well, there's that," I said. "I guess I can get married." "Shit, to one of these local yokles?" "What else?" "You could go to college." "Shit," I said. "Sure," she said. Old man Worths put up a thousand dollars scholarship for the Mackerel Queen." She put out her cigarette and looked at me. "And you and I both know that who old man Worth says is Mackerel Queen is Queen."