Gayle's Ceremony
Chapter 1: The idea

Copyright© 2018 by Uther Pendragon

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1: The idea - Gayle's Ceremony Uther Pendragon MF MMF voy The Crew, 6 men and 3 women in a renovated farm house in rural Wisconsin, said they'd have children someday. Then Gaykle says that "someday" is NOW. To give the guys an equal chance, they all have sex on the night of Gayle's greatest fertility. They make a ceremony of it, with everybody watching.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Group Sex   Public Sex  

It was Saturday, and half The Crew was in the computer room working.


Wayne Engelhart sent his draft to Greg’s computer. He got up, needing to rest his butt as much as the proximity, and sauntered over. Greg looked at what he had done for a couple more minutes.

“I really think this flies.” he said. “Great job, Wayne. I’ll just polish it a little, and I’ll submit it to the client. Greg always talked as though he were the boss. According to what Wayne understood, they were all working at web-page design co-operatively, even if Greg had started the business first and had taught the rest of them.

“Taking a break,” he said. He looked out the window to the yard with patches of snow still in the shade and decided to take a break inside. He’d head up to the men’s bunk room and catch a show.

“You really ripped that one out,” Val said from behind him before he’d got to the top of the stairs.

“See it?” He was a little proud of what he’d done.

“No. But I saw when you picked the job up. If it satisfies Greg, it satisfies me. And you slept alone the last two nights, too.

That was supposed to be the advantage of the Crew, six guys and three girls sharing a house and an occupation. Gayle claimed that three women could keep six men happy. Well, as one of the six, he hadn’t been all that happy for the last couple of days.

“I’m going to take a break,” he said.

“Maybe what you should take is a shower.” He took that as a promise, not an insult. Val might take a cock in her cunt that hadn’t been cleaned in two days. She would only take one in her mouth if it had been in the shower very recently.

“I might do that.” He got a change of clothing from his closet and dresser and took it to the shower room. There were four stalls, but none were in use at this time of the day. With nine people, choosing to bathe mid-day not only gave you some privacy, it was a courtesy to others.

He had merely soaped himself down when the door to the hall opened. A minute later, Val stepped in the shower stall wearing a shower cap -- only a shower cap.

“A couple of other stalls are free,” she said, “but do you mind if I share this one?”

He stepped back and made an arm gesture or welcome. She wasn’t looking at his arm, though. After thoroughly wetting herself, she soaped her hands and stroked his cock and then his balls. She might be trying to get them clean, but she was definitely getting his cock hard.


Valerie Davis said, “Shower head,” and reached up. The shower heads were detachable, and Wayne put it in her hand. She rinsed off his genitals, and turned the water temperature down.

“Hey!” Wayne said, but he took the shower head when she handed it to him. The water went off, and she knelt. Wayne was the shortest guy, but he still had seven inches on her 5’ 2”, and the cock was close to her face already. She ducked under his soft and protrusive belly and stretched her mouth open.


Wayne was in paradise. Val sucked the head into her mouth and then closed her lips over the shaft. He felt her hand cup his balls and the long nails scratch lightly over his ball sack.

The tongue swabbed the underside of his cock, and then it circled the head. He grabbed at her head and held the shower cap. He tried to pull her into his groin so he could penetrate her more deeply. He felt her teeth on his shaft and relaxed his hands. She tightened her lips, pulled back a ways, and then went forwards. He was fucking her mouth except that she was providing the motion.

She fluttered her tongue on the most sensitive point on his cock and lifted his balls at the same time. He lost it, shooting what felt like a gallon up his cock and into her warm mouth. He grabbed the walls to keep from collapsing.


Val, as soon as she felt the pulsing between her lips stop, crawled back on her knees. She left Wayne’s cock with a slurping suck. Then she bent down and spat the goo from her mouth into the drain. When she reached up, Wayne handed her the shower head. She turned on the cold water, and sprayed so that everything went down the drain. Then she sprayed around her mouth, opened to let a little water in, and spat again. But this time, Wayne was standing up straight again, though the same couldn’t be said for another part of him. She turned the spray on his cock, and got rid of most of what she’d left there.

“Hey!” Wayne said.

“Am I interrupting anything?” Sharon asked from just outside the curtain.

“No,” Val answered. Just one stall in use; three more available.”

She took her time drying off and dressing, while Wayne got as far away as the room allowed and dressed there.

She was still there when Sharon finished her efficient nurse’s shower. “Look,” she said. “I know we shouldn’t play in the shower room. I just thought nobody else would need it right now.”

“There are two unbreakable rules: Don’t sleep around. Don’t pair up. Yeah. You shouldn’t. I haven’t seen you making a habit of it. Which means, if you’ve been making a habit of it, you’ve chosen your times very well. Was that Wayne?”

“Yeah. And he did a real good job, too. He’s been bearing down and carrying his load. Seems I should acknowledge that.’


Sharon Mitchell said, “Well, you could acknowledge that in your own room. Actually, I’m glad to see you flying so free.” Val wasn’t her responsibility, but of the three women, the slight Val seemed the least likely for this group-sex thing. Val sometimes seemed to have followed Greg into the Crew.

Sharon had the impression that Val was the second best designer of web pages, nowhere as good as Greg, but better than any of the others. If Greg decided to leave and took Val with him, then what would the Crew do for money? She had her earnings as a nurse in the Hospital in Madison, so she would land on her feet, but she liked the others, and she doubted that they could live as designers of web pages without Greg.

That was entwined with Val’s previous problems with Wayne. They had made their peace now, but she -- and everyone, maybe even Wayne -- knew where Greg would end up if the two couldn’t paper over their differences.

So, Val’s blowing Wayne in the shower was three surprises. Val was getting more open -- Sharon could remember her shyness in the first winter’s strip Scrabble. Val would do it with Wayne, which meant that they were more friendly than ever before. Val would see that something had to be done to reward Wayne, which meant that she was taking some leadership in the Crew.

Sharon was on the 10 to 6 shift, which meant that she had slept through lunch. It had been Greg’s turn to help Gayle in the kitchen, and she said at supper that he’d made the spaghetti sauce.

“Very good, Greg,” she said helping herself to thirds.

“Isn’t it?” Sharon asked. “It’s the last of our own tomatoes. So, Bill should get a thank-you, too.”

“Not to mention the woman whose recipe is really responsible for the taste,” said Greg. They ate well whoever was helping in the kitchen. Gayle might be explicit about what organ was most important to men, but she took good care of their stomachs, too, and of hers and Val’s.

“Anyway,” Gayle said as though this was some resumption of the previous conversation, “Bill has an idea for improving the yield of the gardens.”

“Well, I won’t claim that it will actually improve fertility,” Bill said. “But many primitive peoples considered fertility rituals very important.”

“Fertility rituals?” Trent said. “Sounds sexy. I’m already in favor.”

“It is sexy. Some peoples had a ritual act of intercourse in the field just before the seeds were planted.”

“In the field?” Val asked. “Out in the open where people driving by could see?”

“Well,” Bill said, “the place doesn’t have any of what the real Millerville farmers would consider fields. We do have gardens, though, and one of them is hidden by the orchards from any place but the barn.”

“Of course,” Gayle said, “the participants would have to be willing. We can roll a die or flip a coin if Val or Sharon were interested, but I have said that I’d play the role.”

“You and Val can flip a coin,” Sharon said. She’d be happy to participate in the audience. She wasn’t eager to screw in the open air, much less in front of seven voyeurs.

“I’ll pass,” Val said, “Anyway, if you flip a coin, the guys would be rooting for tails.”

“Anyway,” Sharon said, “you’re the Earth-mother type.”

“And I would be willing to be the man or one of the men,” Bill said.

“Don’t you think Gayle should choose?” Sharon asked.

“We don’t pair up,” Steve said. “That doesn’t apply to particular sessions, but this seems a one-shot. I think that the willing guys, and I’d bet the number is six, would put their names in a hat, and Gayle would draw one.”

“Or,” Bill said, “more than one. Many fertility rituals called for something close to an orgy.”


Gayle Tansey said, “We have time to think about this. It should be the night before planting begins, if I understand Bill correctly. When is that?” She wanted to add something to the pudding before it gelled.

“I’ll check on the dates for planting,” Bill said. “Probably the Ag department doesn’t have any advice on when to hold a fertility ritual.”

Cleanup and washing dishes was Trent’s duty tonight. Val stayed behind to help him, which showed where he’d be sleeping that night. The rest trooped into the living room to watch TV. Soon, she signaled Bill. He got up and kissed Sharon. Kissing good night wasn’t common when you left the room, but she was going out that night.

While Bill grabbed his clothes for the next morning from the guys’ room and joined her in hers, Gayle got into a robe. Each woman in the Crew had a corner room with a queen-sized bed. The fourth corner room was larger and housed six bunks for the guys. They would never have accepted that if they hadn’t expected to share the queen-sized beds fairly often.

She greeted him with a kiss and helped him strip. She liked how he stripped. At an even 6 feet, Bill wasn’t one of the tallest guys in the crew, but he was the most muscular by far. As she ran the kitchen and the meals and Greg ran the programming, Bill ran the farming operation, growing a lot of the vegetables that they ate and the providing chickens and eggs. Unlike her, who had regularly scheduled chores assigned to assist her, Bill did most of the farm work except during planting season. Even this late in the year, his face was a shade darker than his legs.

When they got to bed, Bill kissed her, which tickled a little. Then he kissed down to her breasts, where his beard tickled a lot, kissed further down. As he kissed upwards on her thighs, all the ticklishness turned to lust. When he patted her lower lips with his tongue, she held his head there while fire burned.

The fire burned hotter and hotter as he teased her. Every muscle was tense, but he wouldn’t take her over.

“Bill,” she pled.

“Yes?” But then his tongue was right where she needed it. She convulsed, and as she shook, his lips were taking her further over. She moaned and shook.

When, after an agonizing eternity, she finally collapsed, he moved up her body. He pressed into her, filling her with one motion.

“Minute,” she asked him.

“Sure.” And he took the tops of her breasts in his hands and then remained still. He had big hands, but not that big. The skin was rough, but it was arousing.

“You are so sexy,” he said. “There is so much of you. And I almost died when you brought up the ritual. I wasn’t ready, but you knew just what to say. Now, the only questions are not if but how.”

“You’re the smart one. Still, wouldn’t your fertility ceremony have more influence if the woman was fertile?”

He said nothing for the longest time, but she felt his cock twitch within her. That was a better lie detector than sweaty palms.


Bill Jenkins was perfectly serious about Gayle’s intelligence. He had studied Anthro, but she knew more about how the Crew worked than he did, than anyone did. She had got his idea adopted, and he could tell that it had been only a means to the end of getting her own plan adopted.

They had included children as a sometime-in-the-future part of the plan for the Crew. There were empty rooms which were labeled children’s rooms in the plans.

At first they hadn’t been sure that they could make a go of the whole crew. Then, they had been nervous about the money. Now, apparently, the money was fine. He was conscious every time he considered it, that either the women have two children apiece or some of the guys would be dads while some would not. Even if the women agreed, or if Gayle did more than her share and it ended up at six, then some of the guys would be dads for years while others would not. And would all the women go for kids at once? If so, that might cut down the sexual availability that was central to the Crew’s attraction, if not, that made for more delay in some guys’ getting to fatherhood. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to be a father, but that was avoiding responsibility. He sure didn’t want the responsibility of another man’s kid.

All these thoughts were under the consciousness of the sensations of being on top of Gayle and buried in her cunt. Gayle was one hell of a lot of woman. He had a lot of weight on his elbows and on his knees, but he didn’t know many women who could cushion his midsection so long without complaint.

Then she tightened inside and started to move under him. “Darling,” he said. He rubbed her nipples with his thumbs and started the ancient motion.

She could take him all. When he was pounding into her, she was thrusting up against him. He held fire by gritting his teeth, but he couldn’t hold back his fiercer drive down into her depths.


Gayle felt his pounding loins meet hers, his thrusting cock plumb her depths, her own muscles tightening. She was almost there, and when he slammed against her and drove the base of his cock hard against her clit, she went over.

She convulsed, and he drove deep into her clasp. “Argh!” he shouted.

They lay gasping into each others’ ears. He slowly moved off, knowing her well enough to leave her the side of the bed she wanted. She turned on her side, and they spooned. His arm across her was solid.

“You are much woman,” he said.

“And you are much man ... Bill, there is a certain point in a woman’s cycle when she is likely to conceive.”

“Yeah, Midpoint, isn’t it?”

“About,” she said, “but Sharon can pinpoint it for me. Well, if I fuck Bruce that day and you not until a week later, and I got knocked up, you’d think it was Bruce’s kid wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe. You going to wait a week? You usually spread it around.”

“Well, if I fuck Bruce and Steve that day and you four days later, you’d think the kid wasn’t yours.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” he said. “It wouldn’t be as if you went with that guy at the gas station.” The man had propositioned Sharon early in the Crew’s involvement with the house. He had become a symbol in the house for the hypocritical locals who judged them as immoral but were not faithful to their own commitments.

“I don’t owe you anything, or maybe I owe you-all something. But if that happened, you wouldn’t owe the kid anything either.”

“You’re saying?”

“Well,” she said, “It’s wild, but if I fucked all of you that one night in the ceremony you spoke about, then it would be the kid of all of you guys.”

“Not if it had brown eyes or was incredibly tall.”

“Well, I’m tall for a woman, and you have hazel eyes. That’s sort of brown. But, anyway, with equal chances, I could easily ask all of you to promise to treat the kid as your own.”

“Could you even do it?” he asked. “You’re one hell of a lot of woman, but could you handle six guys the same night? Then, too, what’s next. If you could, would Val try something like that?”

“Not in a million years. Still, we could set up some form of lottery. Or, maybe, she’d decide that she doesn’t want kids. Or, something else could happen. I’m not planning the entire future. I just want to have a kid. Is that too much to ask? And, really, you guys are part of my life. I want a kid with one of you, and I want all of you in the kid’s life too.”

“You are, you know. Maybe you’re not setting up the future for the next century, but you get pregnant and the kid will run 18 nearly 19 years later; he’ll graduate from college 23 years later. Twenty-three years ago, this place was a working apple orchard.

“We still get plenty of apples,” she said.

“We get more apples than nine people need, and we could get five or six times as much if we worked at it. Want to go into business selling your pies? But it’s not enough for a harvest. What those trees are good for is firewood. We already have maybe five year’s supply stacked in the barn.”

She snapped off the light. She’d have to be in the kitchen early, and Steve was scheduled to help. He was always hard to wake.


Sharon Mitchell drove home from the hospital. Traffic was one of the few advantages of working the hours she did. What traffic there was in Madison this early was heading the opposite direction. Sure, there were big trucks on the roads, but not enough to worry her. She got in the house in time to wash up before breakfast. When she got to the table, Gayle and Steve brought in a stack of pancakes. Bill was already there. The others trailed in. It was her last meal of the day, but she treated it as breakfast. The three women all took their pills at the same time. It was a ritual, an important ritual for the group.

“Have anything planned for this morning?” she asked Greg.

“Alas, a couple of business calls. I might be free well before dinner, though.”

“Need a sleeping pill?” Steve asked her. She could actually get to sleep just fine without sex. Maybe not ‘just fine,’ but -- even at this odd hour while the sun shone in the windows and the place woke about her -- she had little trouble sleeping. She did, however, find that a little pre-prandial sex relaxed her and marked the end of the day.

“That would be wonderful, Steve.” When he’d drained his third cup of coffee, they went upstairs together.

They stopped off at their respective rooms for toothbrushes. He used the urinal while she had to struggle her lower clothes off and on in the last stall. He had his hands clean and was half-way through brushing his teeth when she got to the sink. Still, he waited for her and walked her to her room.

The kiss was sweet, and he was careful taking off her uniform.

“You know,” he said, “it would have saved us time if you’d come out carrying these.” He held up her pantyhose.

“I still had my shoes on. Besides, I don’t think efficiency is our greatest objective.” She knelt to take off his shoes.

“Sorry,” he said, “I was on KP, and I delayed my shower.” He didn’t smell that bad. She sniffed at his crotch when she took his pants down to demonstrate.

When they were both naked, they had another kiss. He hugged her but turned a little to the side so his penis only brushed her abdomen. He turned her and kissed her ear and neck while his penis lightly brushed her side.

“Tired?” he asked. “Am I keeping you on your feet after a night of standing?”

“No. Got very few calls. Spent most of the shift sitting on my ass.” Nurses were on the floor in case anything happened. And, when it did, they might do a lot that the day shifts handed over to housekeeping. But this hadn’t been one of those nights.

“In that case.” Steve dropped down and kissed her buttocks. His hand stroked up between her legs until he reached her labia. Then he gently rubbed one against the other. After a little, she wanted more, and she wanted to deal with him. She walked to the bed and stripped back the spread, blanket, and top sheet. She lay down by herself, and he came to join her.

They lay sided by side kissing. She played with his chest hair and then his nipples. He had one hand on her breasts and the other stroking her labia. When she opened her legs, he spread her lubrication up to her clit.

“Steve,” she said. She reached for his penis and rolled just slightly away. He came over her but mostly closer beside her. He parted her labia with his fingers, and she guided him inside. He grabbed her buttocks, and they rolled just slightly the other way.

“So warm,” he said. He pulled her to him as he thrust.

“So full.” And she did feel full. He relaxed and then thrust again. She found herself meeting his motions. She reached back for the covers and brought them over where they were joined. She kissed his chin; he kissed her nose; their mouths joined and his tongue imitated the movements of his penis.

His thumb was tweaking the nipple of her right breast, and his other hand clasped her left buttocks as he pulled her closer.

She touched his shoulder, and he stopped. “You too far along?” she asked.

“Want a rest?”

“Don’t quite stop, but can we talk?”

“Every time a woman wants a discussion when I’m in her cunt,” he said, “I get suspicious. I don’t run the show, remember.”

“I remember. Yet, you’re one of six guys. I know we’re all equal and that we don’t vote; we reach a consensus. Somehow, though, you and Greg are leaders in a way that Wayne, and even Bruce, isn’t.” She felt him softening a little and thrust against him. He matched the thrust, pulled back a millimeter, and thrust in. That time his penis was firmer.

“Bruce is a great guy.” He continued the motions, but paused between them.

“He’s a great guy, but a follower. Bill and Trent have both taken leadership, but in each in a separate -- almost peripheral -- way. Anyway, Trent drew the house plans.”

“And we all consensed on them,” he said. “You think they need to be changed?”

“The house plans call for rooms for children.”

“We all agreed that we’d have children when we were settled and ready.”

She moved back and forth. When he was firm again, she tightened her vaginal muscles. She felt him quiver within her, and then he was stroking more vigorously. The motion might take him over too soon, but it certainly felt good.

“Talk later,” she said. She rolled on her back, and he came out. In seconds, he was over her and in her again. He stopped on an outstroke to put his hand over her mons. Then he was driving his penis into her and thumbing her clitoris at the same time. She was all sensation, beyond thought.

Then lightning struck. She could feel herself clamping around his penis.

“Sharon!” Steve called. He drove through her clamp. Then he was clutching her shoulder and throbbing within her vagina. He dropped on her, but soon rolled away.


Steve was replete. He loved three women, but Sharon best of all.

“You know,” he said, “with kids in the house, we’d have to be quieter during sex.”

“That’s why Trent got us to put solid doors on the bedrooms. Really, kids live in houses, houses with hollow-core doors, houses with the kids’ rooms next to their parents. We think that kids are oblivious, but what we don’t consider is that they get used to all sorts of sounds. It’s not until you have a little experience, experience with porn, at least, that you identify a sound as a sex sound. So Steve called Sharon’s name; so what? Steve calls me all the time. So Steve calls out ‘God.’ That’s a bad word, but he uses worse when he can’t get his car to start. Besides...”

“Besides what?” he asked.

“The guys can wait for kids as long as they want. Not so, the women.”

“Your biological clock ticking?”

“Not really,” she admitted, “but you have to consider the situation. What would the guys think if Gayle and I had big bellies at the same time?”

“Depends on how much that limited you.”

“Well, it would limit you. Only rear entry sex for the last trimester,” she said. “And there’s a period after childbirth when all intercourse is contraindicated. Add it all up. If we start, Gayle would probably want to go first, and I wouldn’t argue with that. Then, conception isn’t guaranteed. Then, if we both had kids, Val might well want to join in the process. If you take nine months for conception, and that isn’t as long as the doctors want you to try before they say that you have a problem. If you say an average of nine months for conception and nine months for delivery, and Val joins in the process and Gayle goes for a second one, then it’s six years from the time we start before I start trying to get pregnant a second time. And in six years my biological clock will be ticking. It will damn-well have nearly run out. Gayle is in the same situation; she’s a little older. So, if we started tomorrow, she might well have extra problems with her second. And that would push me further along.”

“You’re throwing a lot of numbers at me. Maybe you should have started with Greg,” he said. Then he realized that Sharon had tried to invite Greg to her room this morning.

“Maybe.”


Jennifer Eames looked up from her desk as three of the people from the old Maxwell place walked into the library. One of them had told her that they came in the middle of the day and the middle of the week because they wanted to avoid crowding the place. Actually, this was the first time in a week that three adults had been present.

“Returns,” the tall one said. She processed them. “Can I get these renewed?”

“Are they on your card?” She had some experience with “The Crew,” as they called themselves, by now.

“I don’t think so. This one is.” He handed over a biography of Grant and his card. She renewed it.

“The others, why don’t you just take them out?” Jennifer asked, “When they’re checked out, the program automatically cancels the previous check out.” He nodded. “Look, I can understand taking more than three weeks on the bio. But if you set these mysteries down long enough to let the time expire, don’t you lose the thread?”

“Well, Sharon, who ordered them, is a real ‘tec addict. She reads them fast. But, then, they’re in the house, and somebody else picks them up. Then, another sees that person reading it. By that time, the due date is near.”

“He says I should read this,” the short woman, Davis, said. She handed over the real Dracula book -- Bram Stoker -- and her card, “Ever considered getting a more modern web page?” she asked. She was a hell of a lot more polite than the high-school kids, but the message was the same.

“It isn’t in the budget.” The library was about books, and Davis was a reader. Jennifer was surprised she would talk about web pages.

“G S A would do it for free,” Stewart said. She didn’t know about that, and she doubted that he did. He didn’t look a Girl-Scout type, or even a Boy-Scout type, with his beard.

“Is there a merit badge for web pages”? she asked.

Davis dropped a decade and became a giggling teenager. “Greg,” she said when she could control herself, “give her a card.”

“Greg Stewart

Associates,”

the card read with a spider web drawn in gray in the background.

“And what did you mean by GSA?” Davis asked her.

“Girl Scouts of America.”

“What we have here is a failure to communicate,” Davis quoted.

“I figure that we owe you a bit more support than the occasional apple pie,” Stewart said. “We wouldn’t prioritize charity work, but we get busy periods and periods when no orders come in. Think about it. We’d need to see the code for what you have now so we can be compatible for how you update the catalogue.”

“Thank you. I’ll talk to the board.”


Greg Stewart looked up when Sharon appeared at the door of the computer room in her warm robe. He usually objected to night wear in the computer room, but she was not sitting down at her machine. He remembered that they had a sorta date. He held up three fingers, and she nodded. He closed out what he was working on, checked that Bruce and Val -- the only ones working at anything which might raise problems -- were okay. He found Sharon in the kitchen drinking coffee. She rinsed out her cup and saucer and put them in the dish washer. Silently, they climbed the stairs to her room together. When they had a kiss, he tasted the coffee and some toothpaste behind it. Sharon’s room was absolutely neat except that the bed was unmade. The room was a little chill, and he let her help him off with his clothes before he reached for her robe. When she was naked, she lay on the bed, and he joined her.

Sharon’s breasts were just the right size. He liked Gayle’s abundance, and he loved Val’s pixie-ish figure, but Sharon’s were somehow enough surface to kiss without being large enough to lose all their firmness. He kissed circles around the base and a spiral approaching the nipple asymptotically.

“Steve complained that I talked when his penis was in my vagina,” Sharon said. “He thought that was taking an unfair advantage.”

“I wonder why. And you want to talk while you’re naked in bed with me so that the conversation will be perfectly fair. Talk away. It won’t bother me.” He switched to kissing the other breast.


Sharon laid out everything she’d laid out to Steve. She had thought the numbers might distract Greg, but he kept on her breasts and played with her pubic hair. She was the one who was in danger of being distracted.

“Well,” Greg said, “It isn’t as dire as you lay out. Let’s say that Gayle goes first. Let’s say that she takes three months to get pregnant. I’m not sure; she looks like she’d only need to skip one pill and she’d bloom. How long do you say that a woman can only do it doggy style?”

“It isn’t exactly doggie style. You lay down. Anyway, it’s generally three months. Of course, other problems can arise.”

“Well, other problems can always arise. We eat together, sleep together, etcetera together. What happens if an epidemic hits us? What happens if the house catches fire? But, assuming no catastrophe, Gayle catches. We wait three months, and Sharon goes off the Pill. If it takes nine months, the total time between babies is not a year and a half, it’s one year. If Sharon catches immediately, then we have only one woman restricted to doggie style at a time.”

“I may have exaggerated, Greg, but you’re not really looking at the difficulties,” she said. “A lot of women have problems conceiving. A lot of the time it’s really the man’s problem, but a fair number of times it’s not. Well if you have problems conceiving, either you spend a lot of money and effort overcoming those problems or not. But if you’re waiting in line to even try, then it’s a real source of tension.”

“Whenever you start, it would seem to me.”

“Yeah. But the later you start, the shorter a time you have to deal with that. The shorter the time, the harder it is to distinguish whether there is a problem.”

“There is another side to this, you know,” Greg said.

“There always is. Could you stop that?” He had lain down and was no longer kissing her breasts, but he had gone from twirling her pubic hair with his fingers to parting her labia with one and stroking up between them almost -- but not quite -- to her clitoris.

“I probably could. The question is what guys are going to be planting the seeds and in which order.”

“Isn’t that up to the mother to decide?” she asked. These were great guys to play with, but she wasn’t sure that she would be happy raising a kid with each one of them.

“Didn’t listen to Steve last night, and that was on something much less long-range. We don’t pair up.” His finger was finally still. She would have appreciated his petting at another time, would appreciate it later, but this was a serious conversation. “And then you want the woman to choose who she pairs up with for longer than the Crew has been together, for longer than any two of us have known each other. Besides, what if Gayle chooses Steve, and then you choose Steve? Where does this leave the rest of us? Guys, despite what you may think, have feelings, too.”

“Greg, guys have emotions all over the place. Any woman spends most of her time in a relationship trying not to hurt the guy’s feelings.”

“If you knew what they were,” he said. His finger, which had stopped momentarily, now was stroking over her clitoris.

“Could you stop that?” she asked. She was losing her concentration. Her hips moved up and down against her will.

“Sure. Already demonstrated that I could. But I was wondering what you meant by rear entry which wasn’t doggie style.”

She laughed. “Greg, you’ve done it. We have done it together.” She turned away from him, though. This conversation was over.

“So, I’ve forgotten. Show me.” She shoved back and reached between her legs. She held his penis in one hand and spread her labia with the other. When she fitted him, Greg, who hadn’t forgotten in the least, shoved in.

When she removed her hands, his hand went around to reach her clitoris again. They moved in rhythm, and his shaft slid in and out of her vestibule. He had already got her to the edge.

A few minutes of the lovely friction had her steaming. “Greg,” she said. Lightning struck.

Greg pulled his head through her clamping vestibule and grabbed her hipbone. “Fuck!” he said. He pulled her back as he thrust forward. Then he was pulsing, ejaculating into her vagina.

“Is that really such a bad position?” Greg asked many minutes later.

“No. It’s great. It’s just that any one position gets repetitive. Look, when you’re ready, I need my shower.”

“Sure.” He got up and pulled on the same clothes he’d taken off. Well, it was in the middle of his day. “Want somebody to wash your back?”

“I think I can manage.”


Bruce Bennet had come to a stopping point. Guys on assembly lines wouldn’t cry for them, but web designers could get worn out looking at small changes. He leaned back in his chair and stretched. Shortly after he relaxed, Val -- sitting next to him -- did the same thing. It sure looked better on her. Val was wearing jeans and an over-sized sweatshirt. Leaning back revealed the shape of her tits. They weren’t large, but their shape was perfect. Their feel was even better, and he’d like to check that out again.

“Val,” he said, “do you think I might stay with you tonight?”

“Why, Bruce, I would be pleased.” Val knew that she was expected to screw with every guy in the Crew. Some of them, though, took that for granted. Wayne was capable of claiming that she hadn’t given his rightful number of turns, though he hadn’t said that for a while. Often, the girl asked as she had done last with Wayne and Sharon had just done with Greg. Bruce always asked, and asked as if it were a favor that she was granting him.

“After dinner then.” And Bruce went back to his programming. Greg always pointed out that if they didn’t do noticeably better than amateurs did, then nobody would pay them to design web pages.

After supper, he went upstairs, shaved, brushed his teeth, and packed a robe and the next day’s clothes into his backpack. He left it by Val’s door. Then he went down to the living room where the others were watching TV.

“Interested in the news?” he asked Val when that came on.

“I’m avoiding it these days.”

He kissed Sharon good night. Then he and Val went up to her room. Inside the room with the door closed, they kissed. Her mouth was warm, and her body was firm as he stroked down her back to her ass. He used that to pull her against his erection. When he stepped back, he reached for the hem of her sweatshirt.

“Okay?” She raised her arms, and he peeled it off. The shapelessness went with it. Val’s tits were just the right size for her elfin body, and they thrust out. Removing the bra revealed no sag, and the pale pink nipples called for his mouth. While he sucked one, she held his head against her. When he’d paid homage to her other, she reached for his shirt.

“You,” she said. When they were both topless, they had another kiss. Her nipples pressed into his chest and he could feel their dampness. Her belly pressed against his erection. His tongue plundered her mouth. He helped her up onto her bed. The smallest girl in the Crew had the highest bed.

She lay down crossways on the bed while he kissed down from her ear to her tits. They wouldn’t really fit in his mouth, but he tried. He took off her sneakers and went back to her tits. She rolled to help him get her jeans off. Then her thighs were so smooth that they deserved a series of kisses too.

When he removed her panties, her angel hair was so trim!

“That’s wonderful,” he said.

“You don’t think I should have Sharon do it again when she’s on regular hours?”

“No, but I would be willing to trim it for you if you think it’s too long.” She laughed, which made her taut belly ripple erotically. She was already wet when he tasted her.

“Savory,” he said.


Val squeezed her legs together against Bruce’s smooth cheeks. She let his mouth take her on a luscious trip. Her skin was a bit chilly, but inside the heat was building. He flicked her clit with his tongue, and she felt a minor spasm ripple through her. It didn’t dislodge his mouth, and he kept stimulating her.

She was a spring, and he kept winding her tighter and tighter. She felt it build, and her feelings for Bruce built with it.

Then the spring broke, and she flew apart. “Ah!” she said. Bruce stopped for a moment, and she felt the breath he took and blew out against her most sensitive -- especially sensitive right now -- parts.


Bruce paused as he felt Val shudder through her climax. As soon as she stopped, he went after her small, warm, red cunt again. She had two more orgasms in her, and he wanted to feel the last one all around him.

In a few minutes, her legs were tensing around his head, and she was starting to squirm under him. He took slower strokes and let his tongue miss her clit some times. She was pouring out. He took the time to loosen his belt and push his jeans and jockeys down. As the squirming eased, he went back to her clit. When she was almost there, writhing and pressing her sweet mound up against his mouth, he circled her clit with his lips.

When he sucked, she exploded. He kept up his attacks until she collapsed. Then he was up the bed over her.

“Taste this,” he said. He kissed her full on the mouth. Then he reached down and placed himself. She was so smooth and so tight that he wanted to take all night just entering her. His cock had other ideas, and drove him in rapidly. Then he lay over her and in her soaking up the juices.

Getting his elbows on the mattress and his hands on her sweet tits, he began a rocking pace. His feet were still on the floor, letting him push up against the top of her tunnel and against her clit on every stroke. He felt his climax somewhere at the back of his head, but hers was also close.

He paused when he was deepest and moved his hips from side to side. She tautened further under him,

Two strokes later. She clasped tighter around him. She writhed. We withdrew through the suddenly-loosened band of her cunt entrance. Then he drove into her as it tightened again. He pumped his load into her cunt.

Then he slumped on her. He felt his cock slip out and his knees give way. He was kneeling on the floor between her legs.

“Come to bed,” she said a minute later. A couple minutes after that, he took off his shoes and socks, pulled his pants off his ankles, and did. “Get the light,” she said, and he did.

They got the covers over them and fell asleep in a nice spoon.

When he woke in the dark morning, he got the robe and slippers out of the back pack and wore them to the head. When he’d pissed, he washed the jism off his cock before he washed his hands.

Back in the room, he got his clothes off the floor and put in order. Each of the girls kept a hat tree and two hampers in her room. The guys had two hampers in their room, too, but a lot of their clothes ended up in the girls’ hampers. They had name tags to sort the washed clothes out.

“Cold,” Val complained when he got back in bed. She snuggled against him, though. They fell back asleep with her tit in his hand and his cock in hers.

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