(A story of sharing)
Poor pampered princess Alice Fry was in a definite quandary.
This day was destined to be a total disaster. She had not one, not two, but three engagements with close personal friends all expecting her complete attention allowing them to bask in the reflection of her charm and beautiful eighteen year old physical perfection.
It was all so stressful and she sighed with untypical frustration knowing that she wanted and deserved it all but was constrained by her inability to be in three places at the same time without some miracle of magical proportion.
She decided to invite all three of her male admirers to her playroom because it would be an utter disaster to ignore two/thirds of them.
Their names were Dick, Rod and Peter.
She liked Dick the best but had to admit Rod made her loose and wet when he was fully in charge and Peter never had a problem in making her glow.
Since she knew they were all adaptable enough to accept any opening she deigned appropriate for them in the privacy of her personal playroom, she assigned Dick in her mouth, Rod to work her feminine folds and Peter brought up the rear when she got down on all fours.
They all agreed the only thing they wanted more than anything else was to have more Alice.
She was like butter and jam on their toast. There never seemed to be enough of her to hit all their corners of love-making equipment and Alice was worn to a frazzle attempting to spread her assets around to take care of all three of them with equal care.
With Dick in her mouth and Rod pumping away like a piston gone wild in the damper regions of her private parts, Peter bought up the rear like ever stretching her bouncy cheeks with his brand of love-making that buggered the imagination.
Of course, Dick was the first to burst his dam with oodles of stickiness taxing her ability to gobble it up with ladylike contentment. She hoped it wouldn’t make her fat with heavy thickness in her middle but she knew with that certain feminine sense of proportion that it was Rod that presented the most danger of swelling her middle. He was buried quite serenely in her mysterious femininity like the proverbial “Salami” in a celestial void of cosmic wonder.
Alice swallowed Rod and milked him with her nicely trained channel like a Parisian Peacock primed to take it all and never worry about change. Poor Rod was at a crossroads and drained his masculinity deep inside Alice’s fluttering maw ready to be shorn of his strength like a latter day Sampson giving his all to fill her lonely emptiness.
It was Peter that functioned as a “tail-end Charlie” staying so tight on Alice’s rear that he was far inside her to the very core. Alice loved her Peter in a way that made him her favorite in many ways more than one. She loved it whenever he neared his point of no return because her darkest void was waiting expectantly for his precious bodily fluids like a thirsty blind person covered by his “oasis” of lust.
.... There is more of this story ...