Chapter 13

Things don’t always go as planned, of course, and I was pretty sure that I unintentionally kicked off my reverse gang-bang a bit early thanks to the pill. The next thing that I knew, I was balls deep inside my sister just after she wiped my dick and I had her pinned by the wrists. Gone was her thigh harness by now, but her kisses were even more powerful in their impact on me. My sweet Mariamne really knew how to push a man’s buttons ... all of the right ones.

The pill made me feel very lecherous indeed, and it was followed by another pill fed to me by my horny, eager beaver wife. She had made her plans in pencil, as Jon Bon Jovi advised once, and so they were easy to erase and replace. My sweet Britta-Lise knew when to improvise, and luckily for us all, so did the rest of us. She, too, was caught up in the glory of this little orgy film extravaganza, basking in its sunny glow. She, too, wanted to run with the wolves now.

Between the pills, the pot amply supplied by Krystal, and the beer, I became a love machine just like the song. I started losing track of whose pussy or ass I fucked, only recalling whenever I got wiped down to clean up between partners. At some point, I found myself buried to the hilt inside Lester’s asshole, followed by Darius’s, and then Tyson’s. They all still had creamy loads inside them, but nobody minded that at all.

I was soon very much underneath a series of women who rode me, one by one, taking their pleasure from my rock-hard prick. I didn’t recall how many times I actually came or they did, but it didn’t matter much. The journey was more enjoyable than the destination by now. We all knew that we would cum a lot, after all. I didn’t even remember when the caterers arrived, though they must have, because I was finally jolted out of my hazy state by the kisses of one caterer who was not just here to feed me.

“What ... the hell?” I asked aloud as I found people eating off each other’s skin, using ladies as human food trays.

“Yeah, the ... um ... caterers that I chose aren’t ... normal caterers. They double as sex workers, babe. This occasion let them double dip, if you will. We paid them extra, just in case word got out and their business suffered. I guess that I shouldn’t have hidden that final surprise from you, but that’s what it was. Forgive me?” my charming wife asked me with an adorable pout and puppy dog eyes.

“Oh, of course, I do! It was a lovely surprise, anyway, but just how late is it?” I looked around for my watch and cell phone, neither available.

By now, even the camcorder stopped rolling, so as to protect the caterers’ reputations. That was okay. It would need major editing from Eddie and the rest of us before getting released into the field. All references to our real names had to be removed, for instance. There had to be subtle inferences that the incest part was just an act, though we knew that it wasn’t, of course.

“8:34. The night is younger than you think, studmuffin. Want some more beer, pot, pills, anything else to go with your prime rib steak, asparagus, and au gratin potatoes?” my exuberant wife made it clear that anything that I wanted was still very much on the table, “this is still YOUR night, after all. The reverse gang-bang happened early, but it can be repeated. We can do anything that you want, honey! Anything at all!”

“We haven’t served the birthday cake, of course, I presume,” I smiled as the caterer twerked a bit for me.

“Oh, of course not! The candles await lighting until the last minute, as we didn’t wish to start a fire or melt them too fast. The birthday boy must make his wish, and I can promise you, if it isn’t magical or supernatural, and it’s in my power, I will grant it myself or with someone’s help,” Britta-Lise now encouraged me.

“Plus, we gotta sing the birthday song, you know. My version of it, since I’m the singer,” Melissa informed me with a wink.