Chapter 9: Trent

Wayne watched Steve and Trent nearly collide at Gayle’s feet. Well, Trent was the last. Wayne waited to see whether Trent would risk the sloppiness of Gayle’s cunt to try for the moan that only Wayne had received.

Instead, Trent concentrated on the part of Gayle that was mostly above the neck, and also did a lot of talking. They were whispering, and Wayne didn’t hear. Trent did get down to her marvelous melons. Nobody could ignore those.

When he got in, Trent took slow, incredibly long strokes. The man was playing his long suit. Trent had the longest cock in The Crew, and the gals seemed to like that.

With nobody after him, Trent was also taking his time. Wayne wondered whether Gayle was enjoying that. Or did she want this ceremony to finish up? Was she chilly in the outdoors? Wayne wasn’t, except for his feet. On the other hand, Wayne was wearing clothes, and his sweat had dried long before.

He saw Trent change his position so he could reach Gayle’s boobs. They both said something more. Some guys didn’t know the right way to use their mouths during a fuck session.

Well, Gayle must like the chatter; she was stroking his back now.

Trent was taking long, quite slow, strokes. He might have to go last, but he was taking his sweet time. With the entertainment factor, his audience wasn’t going to complain about the delay. Wayne wondered whether Gayle was enjoying it.

Well, she was moving under him and had slipped her hands down to his butt. Either she was enjoying Trent’s slowness or she was deliberately trying to speed him up.

Gayle said something, and Trent responded. He started moving faster; had Gayle finally asked him to?

Well, she was pushing back at him. They both sped up.

Then Trent was coming, and Gayle was too, or giving a damned good act.

Trent fell on her, and took his own sweet time getting off her. They were whispering again. Dude! The part you want to keep private is what everybody already saw.

Greg watched as Steve backed off Gayle and went to Bruce for his clothes. Trent, already stripped for action, had been standing at Gayle’s feet, and that maybe wasn’t the best place for the next guy to be right then.

Still, Trent went in. He covered Gayle and then stopped. They were whispering to each other. Trent was so long and hard that Greg might have worried about his treatment of Gayle at the end of a long evening which must have been hard on her.

He might have worried, that is, if he hadn’t been concentrating on his own pleasures and his own delay. Well, Trent might have a bony body, but he wasn’t hard in spirit. He was talking to her. Right now, he was almost certainly talking to Gayle about their imminent sex. You never could tell with Gayle, though. He’d once talked to Gayle about broccoli during sex. You’d think that it would, at least, have been about carrots or asparagus. They had more appropriate shapes.

It was night time in her room. “We had broccoli again tonight.” He pulled down her jeans, leaving only her panties.

“I did,” she’d said. “The rest of us did. You didn’t.” She got his belt, and he stepped out of his jeans when they dropped. Considerately, she eased his boxers down around his aroused cock.

“Y’know, that stuff tastes great raw, I can’t see why you ruin it cooking it.”

“That’s what serving a vegetable with a meal means. The vegetable is cooked. Eight people eat it, most of them with enjoyment. You guys consensed on putting me in charge of menus. If we had to consense on each menu, we’d spend a week between meals. We’d starve to death, me and Wayne last.

He helped her into bed. Gayle was perfectly capable of getting into bed by herself, but helping her was fun.

When he was beside her, they’d kissed. Gayle’s mouth was sweet, and he always made a point of spending time up there before he headed to her boobs.

And, when he had, he’d covered the entire area of the near one with kisses before he got to the tip. Gayle had more tit flesh than most women, and she deserved to have it properly appreciated. And he did appreciate it, even if he appreciated the nipples even more.

When he’d paid his respects to that magnificence, he’d kissed his way down the expanse of her belly while stroking her lower hair. That, too, was abundant, and he blew into it to tickle her as well as to see the short locks shiver.

Then he’d skipped down to her thighs. He’d kissed up towards her box, and she’d spread her knees. Gayle was never coy. Men appreciated her abundant sexuality, and the sexuality of her abundance, and she -- in turn -- appreciated men’s response to her.

At her center, Gayle’s abundance continued. Her outer labia were fat rolls of flesh with lots of hair even at the back end. Her inner labia spilled out when she was aroused.

He’d parted them with his fingers, and then he’d licked the plentiful juice off the insides. She’d stiffened even before he’d got to her clit. When he had, she’d gripped his hair and pulled him into her.

She’d panted and wriggled while he’d licked around and over the nub. Then she’d groaned and pulled harder on his hair. He had tried to stay with her while she writhed.

When she’d relaxed -- and let go of his hair -- he had moved up her body. Entry had been easy, and he’d sunk into her juicy warmth until his pubic hair had been lost in hers. Her face hadn’t looked like she was ready yet for another go, and, besides, he’d had another thought.

“Why not put some aside and serve it to me raw?”

Her gasps had turned into laughs. She’d shaken under him, and -- enticingly -- around him.

“We buy it frozen,” she’d said. Then they’d lain with him on top of her and embedded in her until she brought her hands up to his back, and he’d known she was ready to resume.

And, now, Gayle’s hands had gone to Trent’s ass. She was urging him on, and he was driving in and out faster and faster. The end seemed near. She was coming up against him on every stroke.

Then, Trent drove into her harder than ever. Gayle met him, and they clung with her shoulders above the air mattress. They paused there. From the look of his body, Trent was coming. From the look on her face, Gayle was too.

Then he fell on her and bore her down. You could see that both were breathing hard. Trent said something.

Significantly later, Gayle said something back. Slowly, Trent rose from the softness which was Gayle.

Sharon went to help Gayle up, and Greg moved in to help, too. Val caught up the sheet which had wrapped Gayle, now stained from the ground. Even so, she and Sharon used it to wrap Gayle again.

Val watched as Steve withdrew and Trent got ready to take his place. Trent’s face looked concerned, but his cock looked fierce. Trent had the longest cock she’d ever seen, and it looked even longer tonight. Well, he was getting the man-on-top sex he always wanted.

“Everybody wants to be on top of me,” he’d said when she was preparing to do just that in her room one night.

“Lie back, and I’ll bet you enjoy it.”

“Baby, I always enjoy it. And I’ll get to see you and see your sexy tits bounce. Still, everybody would enjoy that. Why can’t I be on top?”

“You have a sexy chest as chests go,” she had told him. When she was in position, she’d toyed with his chest hair to tease him, and to tease herself a little. “It’s just that chests don’t go too far.”

“Well, yours goes far.” He hissed when she pulled his cock into position. Then she’d lowered herself so pussy lips kissed just his tip. She’d smiled to see the way he was gritting his teeth.

Then she’d skewered herself on him, moving as slowly as possible and feeling him part those lips, spread her entrance, slide into her, fill her, stretch her.

She’d lowered her hands to rest on his chest. He’d raised his to cup her breasts.

Val had leaned forward, feeling a little of Trent’s length ease out of her. Partly by those hands on his chest, she’d lifted herself slowly, feeling his cock leave her. Then she had leaned back and taken him in again even more slowly.

She’d looked into his eyes. He was looking a little lower on her, but she hadn’t minded. She was conscious enough of her A cups that she appreciated any of the guys looking lustfully at them. She’d moved up and down again, and Trent’s eyes had burned hotter. He’d closed his fingers, pinching her nipples very lightly.

When she’d moved up again, he’d dropped one hand from her left breast. He inserted it between her legs. After waiting while his finger found her clit, she’d moved down, all the way down. She’d felt him deep inside her and felt the pressure of his finger wedged against her clit by the weight of her body.

“God, woman,” he’d said, “you’re sexy.”

When she’d moved up again, he’d tickled her clit. Her body had begun to wind tight. They’d moved against each other, but towards a common goal.

As her body wound tighter, she’d struggled to retain her coordination. Finally, she’d stopped, with only half of Tent within her. His finger had touched her only lightly, but it had moved continuously and tickled her maddeningly. Her body had tightened, and she’d felt every muscle cramp.

Her muscles were cramping while her self was splitting into fragments.

“Val,” he’d said. “Fuck!” He’d grabbed her hips and pulled her into his groin. She had felt herself burn, and she could feel him pulsate within that fire.

She’d come back to find herself lying on Trent’s chest with his hands still tight on her ass.

“Don’t hurry,” he’d said when she stirred. “You’re the nicest blanket I’ve ever had.”

Well, now, Trent was on top of Gayle, and she was the one with her hands on his ass.

She said something, and he replied. His strokes were speeding up and looked harder. Gayle wasn’t suffering; instead she was pushing back at him hard.

When he drove in even harder and held there, grinding himself into her, Gayle responded as powerfully. Trent was shaking, and Val thought that he was coming. She’d never experienced a guy coming from this perspective.

Gayle’s limbs twitched, and she must be coming, too. Then Trent fell on Gayle and bore her down on the air mattresses. They lay there for a while, murmuring to each other.

Slowly, Trent got up. Sharon and Greg went to help Gayle rise. When Gayle was on her feet, Val took up the sheet she’d made into Gayle’s costume. It was dirty, but Gayle would need a shower anyway. She wrapped it around Gayle, who was shivering.

She and Sharon helped Gayle away from the site of her ritual. They turned the corner of the barn and walked to the back door of the house.

“The kitchen floor,” Gayle said. All their flip-flops were dirty.

“Never mind,” Sharon said.

“Yeah,” Val said. “I’ll mop this later tonight.” It wasn’t her turn to do housework, but this night was one of a kind, and Gayle’s worries were more important than work schedules.

Bruce handed his clothes back to Steve. When he looked down, Trent and Gayle were whispering to each other.

Trent glided into Gayle with her help. He took his time. He had so long a cock that his slowness exaggerated that length. Trent was making the most of his advantages, and Bruce would do the same if he could figure out what his advantages were.

They whispered a bit more, and then Trent set up a long, slow pace in and out.

Gayle was responding to his strokes. You might expect her to be exhausted at the end of this six-man session, but she seemed to be aroused all over again by Trent. Well, she had responded to Bruce, as well; he shouldn’t be jealous.

Bruce watched a while as the mating kept up the reciprocal, but never desperate, motions.

Had Bruce heard Gayle say, “I’m close”?

Apparently Trent had heard something like that. He moved both more rapidly and more forcefully.

The two come together hard, and they cling there for a moment which seems to defy gravity. Gayle’s face is a pure rictus of either pain of climax. Bruce would bet on climax.

Then they fall together on the air mattress.

If Trent started slowly, he ends even more slowly. They lie there whispering.

When Trent rises, still taking his time, Sharon and Greg move in to help Gayle up. Val wraps her in the sheet, much the worse for lying on the ground and being stepped on.

Sharon said, “Don’t follow us for a minute or two.” They walked towards the house. Bill was dousing one fire, and Bruce moved to take a shovel at the dirt pile near the other one.

He shoveled dirt on it until Steve came over to pour the bucket of water on the other corner. The dirt was more effective.

“Sharon said to remain for a minute or two,” Steve said. “Let’s all remain here until Trent’s certain that the fire is out.”

“The shovels are for the fire,” Trent said. “The buckets of water were in case any sparks flew too far. There are more spades in the barn, and the dirt around her is easy to dig. Bill, it isn’t planted is it?”

“No. The planting is scheduled for tomorrow, after the ceremony.” They all fell to digging and dousing the fires with dirt.

Bill watched as Trent approached Gayle carefully. He was acting as though he had all the time in the world, which, of course, he did.

When Gayle helped him in, Trent took long, slow strokes. Gayle seemed to appreciate that at the end of a long, stressful evening. Sometimes, she liked it soft and slow; sometimes she didn’t. The previous spring, she’d looked him up when she wanted a quickie.

“You didn’t have anybody last night,” had been her first words to him while he was putting his farm tools away in the barn.

“Well, you could have asked.”

“I was with Steve, and Greg was Sharon’s sleeping pill.”

“Grinding it in for some reason?” he’d asked.

“No. You’re the one who’s going to do the grinding.” She had gone up one rung of the ladder into the hayloft and turned her head back to him. The enormous butt was sticking out, and he’d walked up behind her and reached for her belt.

“If I’ve read you wrong, say stop.”

“Go on.” So he pulled her jeans down to her knees and then her panties down to her thighs. He’d reached up under her sweat shirt and unsnapped her bra. He’d taken the end of her boob in one hand and stroked over her slit with the other.

“Wow, you’re wet,” he’d said. She had obviously been thinking of this; he hadn’t begun foreplay enough to get her this wet.

“And you’re dressed.”

He’d used one hand to deal with that problem minimally. She’d eased her ass down further, and he’d pushed upward. His cock pushed into her as though it was his natural home. When he was fully in her, he’d pulled her hips as he eased down off his toes.

When he’d been standing with his cock seated fast in her cunt, he’d told her to stay like that. He pulled back and pressed forwards.

Instead of staying still, she had moved forward when he withdrew and pushed back when he pushed in.

Her position and the panties and jeans kept her legs together. It made for a tight fit where he had always had room. When he reached around to caress her, he hadn’t been able to reach her clit. Instead, he’d pressed and eased rhythmically on her mound.

She’d been enough on edge for that to be enough. When he’d felt her constrict around him, he’d pulled way back through that constriction.

Then he’d driven in, forcing her against the ladder though she had her hands on the railings. He’s shot deep into her.

When he’d moved back, and out, she had squatted sort of sideways off the ladder so the drip wouldn’t hit her pants. She’d pulled a Kleenex from her sleeve, and held it against her twat. She dropped it, pulled another Kleenex, and left it there when she pulled up her panties. She got her jeans up and resnapped her bra.

“Thanks,” she’d said. “I needed a quickie.”

“Any time. My pleasure.”

“Not any time. If you had come in the last twelve hours, maybe the last thirty-six, you wouldn’t have been quick enough.”

Well, now Trent wasn’t being quick, but Gayle seemed quite happy with his pace. She was moving against him, pushing into him at every stroke.