Calvin Mason: Gang bang sisters

Tom remained in the shadows for a while, viewing his masterpiece. The greatest show on earth, he told himself. Two people fucking! Then his eyes scanned the audience and he noticed unusual movements on some, as they watched Jay and Kay with hypnotic stares. Closer examination revealed what Margaret Leche was doing under her parted cape – probably what Hans and Gloria Schmidtline were doing too – masturbating! Do you believe it? Diddling themselves, when they could be fucking! He was pissed off.

Without saying a word, he marched over to Margaret and took off her cloak, then beckoned Hans with his finger and led them to the coffin. Margaret was positioned face down, so Hans wouldn't be turned off by her looks, her ass straight up for penetration. Hans didn't need coning; his cock ran up the dripping wet cunt so fast he lost his balance and fell on top of her. The weight crushed the coffin under them and Margaret gave out a breathless "Ohhhh…" as they fell, and… "WOW!" as they landed and she reached the best climax she'd ever known. Hans was coming when Tom turned to give directions to the others.

The couple Charles had invited was on the floor fucking between their black capes. Looked like a sandwich, Tom thought as he turned to consider Charles. Maybe later, he decided, spotting come all over Charles' cape, shoes and the floor.

Ed Cramer was taking Gloria into the shadows and Tom decided to get Cynthia now, while the getting was good. Besides, Ed's cousin, Ann, was doing her thing with the girl she had brought, and Stella was just watching everything with curiosity.

Cynthia didn't wait for Tom to get to her; she was on top of him before he knew what hit him and he found himself in a "69" position. Her wet mouth devoured his cock, while his mouth tried to get at her cunt, but she kept moving it away from his drooling lips. Then he got the picture; he spread the cheeks of her ass and sucked her tight little asshole.

"Ohhh… yehhhh," she cooed. "Make it tingle."

"Just keep suckin'. I'll make it tingle."

"Mmmmm…" she purred, filling her mouth with hot throbbing cock.

Tom curled his tongue into a point and shot it up the tight tunnel of her asshole with one fast, penetrating drive; at the other end he pumped her mouth full of sperm. Honey dripped from her cunt and trickled down his neck. As soon as the fragrance reached his nostrils he pulled back his tongue, moved her slightly and shot it into her pussy. Cynthia sucked now like someone drowning and squirmed all over his face, feeling his tongue ream the walls of oozing dew right up to her belly and into her brain.

As it turned out, only Charles didn't get laid. He dropped two loads watching though, and considered himself lucky, confident he'd make it the next time.

On the trip back to Ridgewood Tom settled into deep thought. Amateurs! Rank amateurs, that was what they were! Next week would be different… he'd see to that. No more Mr. Nice Guy!

The success of the Halloween Party gave Tom, Charles, Jay and Ed a whole new lease on life. It gave them something to think about – day and night – making even their jobs seem less boring and their friendship closer. They felt revitalized, more energetic and bubbling over with enthusiasm. Now they had something to work for, something to do; instead of sitting in the dingy corner bar drinking beer and talking about what they should be doing – they were doing it.

All their spare time was spent in the store. They cleaned it, rearranged the furniture and continued to bring things that would make it more attractive or more effective. Tom filled the refrigerator with beer, so he could devote his time to the premises without constantly running out to quench his thirst – he didn't even mind when the others helped themselves to a bottle. When there was nothing to do they just sat around reminiscing about the party and throwing out ideas for future parties.

"Why can't we have a few meetings a week?" Jay asked. "This waiting till Saturday night is driving me bananas."

"We don't want to ruin a good thing," Tom answered. "We'll just take it slow for a while. See how it develops. Then maybe we'll add a meeting for Wednesday nights. Let's see how it goes first."

"Your girlfriend was the only one disappointed Saturday night," said Ed Cramer. "Says you ignored her and she didn't get any of the fun."

"She's not my fuckin' girlfriend," Tom snapped back. "I used to take her out once in a while. That's all. And shit… who wants to fuck that skinny beast anyway?"

"Nobody else complained," Jay said, throwing out his chest with a bit of arrogance. "Not with 'The Kid' there to service them. They don't call me 'The German Oak' for nothing."

They all laughed at that, accepting the statement as part of the privilege of being a member.

"Don't you guys go shooting off your mouths about our parties," Tom Dunn got serious. "We'll have the fuckin' cops raiding us, or some jerks trying to crash in. Just keep it quiet."

"That's right," Charles added with a touch of nervousness showing.

"Hey look…" Ed said, "who wants anybody else getting in on the act? Broads, okay, but not guys. The next thing you know you're competing. And I say we've got a good thing going – so let them get their own ass."

The others agreed wholeheartedly.

They were sitting on mattresses they had positioned around the walls of the store. Tom got up to get another beer and added, for emphasis, "Then don't go bragging to anybody or you'll blow the whole thing."

He returned with bottles for everyone, amazing them with his sudden generosity and thoughtfulness. Then they realized they had all changed. Each one had become friendlier, more cooperative, with a much happier outlook.

"Are you going to invite Margaret Leche again?" Ed asked. "She gives me the creeps."

"I wasn't going to. I figured I'd drop her and her sister after the first meeting – Lillian too, but they were the first to pay their dues for this week. What could I say?"

"Who cares?" Jay defended the action. "The more broads the better. You've got to have a few in the bullpen just in case."

That made sense to Ed, noticing the change in Jay had been for the better too. Jay was getting smarter, he decided.

"There's a few things you should know, Tom," said Charles. "In a Black Mass ritual, the Lord's Prayer is not only said with words backwards; the entire prayer is reversed. You start with 'Amen' – or 'Nema' – and end with 'Our'. I've been reading up on it."

"Who gives a shit!" Tom exploded.

"Well, I… just thought you'd like to know."

"What do I look like, the Pope?" Tom cut him off. "We're only doing this to get laid – not to have a spiritual experience!"

"I know, but…" Charles tried to cover his need for perfection, while still trying to make his point, "… I just figured it would be more realistic."

"Fuck it! I don't have time to go through Satan's seminary. Just sit back and enjoy the fun. Stop worrying about the services and start thinking about getting the broad you want."

Jay and Ed agreed with Tom. Charles went back to thinking about his other problem; getting laid. He considered himself a virgin, since Kay was the only one he ever fucked and she didn't count because she was his sister. At the party he found himself so engrossed in what the others were doing he didn't get any for himself. Although, he recalled, he did come, watching Jay jam it into his sister, and again when he saw Tom and Cynthia in the sixty-nine position. But he wanted his own experience at the next party and had been making plans all week on how to go about it.

The second Black Mass was entered in the same manner as the first, only this time everyone was anxious to get started and not nearly as nervous. The three bells beckoned at eight-thirty and they filed into the dark store. The "casket" wasn't replaced after Hans and Margaret collapsed it; just the lectern, the two black candles and Tom Dunn were visible.