Chapter 6: Bill

Trent was appreciating the view of Gayle’s new position when Bruce obscured the critical parts. Well, it was Bruce’s turn. He almost thought that Bruce was going to go down on Gayle, which would be sick with two guys’ jism in there, but whatever he sucked out would decrease the competition for Trent’s sperm.

Then he saw that Bruce wasn’t really going into Gayle’s slit. He was just concentrating his foreplay on her thighs.

Before he was in her, Bruce stopped again at her breasts. He rubbed his cheek over the sides as he slowly moved up to the top. Then he kissed his way down to the tips, switching between then frequently. He suckled the tips until Gayle reached down between her and Bruce.

As Bruce raised his body up, Trent could see Gayle’s hand spread herself while the other hand grasped Bruce’s dick to guide him in.

Then, Bruce immediately started moving back and forth. He stopped to get his elbows on the air mattress and his hands on Gayle’s breasts. Then he started screwing her again.

Minutes seemed to go by, with Bruce’s ass moving toward Trent and away from him. Gayle’s hands held Bruce’s shoulders, and then drifted down his body. Her legs bent more and her knees went up.

Then, her hands reached Bruce’s ass and tightened on it. Trent could see Bruce really thrust hard on the in-strokes.

Gayle’s knees came back down, and her legs spread wider. Her feet went to the ground on either side of the mattress. After another minute, she was pushing back when Bruce thrust in. Bruce reacted to that by thrusting faster and harder.

Her hands clutched at Bruce’s ass cheeks, but he drew back. Then he really rammed it home. Trent could she Gayle’s legs rise around him and her feet pointed as if she were standing on tip-toe. They shook; Bruce shook.

Bruce collapsed over Gayle. Gayle’s legs dropped to the ground limp. Bruce seemed to be shuddering for a while, and then he rolled off.

“A few minutes for recovery,” Sharon called. Greg was already undressing, and he kept going. He didn’t go any nearer to Gayle when he was stripped, though.

Steve knew that Bruce had two inches of height on Gayle and was near enough the same weight that the difference disappeared when she was on one of her sporadic diets.

Somehow, though, Bruce looked lost in all that womanliness. He seemed to approach her in parts. He made love to her thighs, then to her breasts. He waited for her to put him in.

That put Bruce in the only reasonable position when Gayle was lying on her back. For that matter, Steve had some vague idea that the matrimonial position gave the greatest likelihood for conception. If that were the case, none of the guys were going to offer her anything else. Then, too, the fertility ritual seemed to call for her lying flat on the ground to transfer the sex vibes into the soil.

In any case, Bruce had some of his weight on his elbows and the tips of Gayle’s breasts in his hands. He took up a rocking motion, not so much moving forward over Gayle as moving down into her and then back up. Every time his ass went up, his legs straightened and his head went down.

Gayle was so lush. He’d thought that the first time he’d seen her naked. It had been a Saturday morning, and he hadn’t intended that. He and Bethany had been going through what he thought was a rough patch. They’d had a double date with Greg and Gayle at the apartment he’d shared with Greg. He and Bethany had left for the movies, and -- everybody expected -- a night at Bethany’s place.

“You want a drink first?” he’d asked Bethany when they left the movie -- a girl flick he’d selected to please her.

“First? You feed me spaghetti at your place, take me to a movie, and expect to screw me afterwards? You’re a cheap son of a bitch. You didn’t even pay for the spaghetti.” Gayle had brought the meal, as she tended to do.

He took Bethany home, though he’d been tempted to leave her in front of the theater, and let himself into the apartment quietly. Before he got to his room, he could tell that the caution was unnecessary. G&G, as he thought of them then, were making Greg’s bed creek. They wouldn’t have noticed a brass band. And, he thought as they all fell asleep, that had to be the second session of the night. They came out while Steve was eating his breakfast. Gayle was wearing Greg’s robe, and Greg was wearing boxers.

“Struck out?” Greg had asked. “Bad luck except for the coffee.” Whoever got up first made coffee for both. That morning, he’d made coffee for three.

Gayle had taken her coffee and gone to the stove. “She’s not good enough for you. Want eggs to go with that cereal?” Gayle never regarded cold cereal as a real breakfast.

“Please, though I don’t need protein the way Greg does after his night.”

“Bethany’s loss,” Gayle had said, “though she doesn’t deserve you.”

“Gayle,” Steve had said, “is a fan. She’s real taken with you ... Look, why don’t I go to the office this morning?” In those days, Greg had worked for a software company which kept its office in a building you could get in 24/7. Still, what he had seemed to be suggesting contradicted every rule that they had ever had. He and Greg were pals; they didn’t poach on the other one’s girl.

“He’ll have to take a shower,” Gayle had said. “Want me to shower after him?” She had seemed more intrigued than shocked at Greg’s suggestion. The only shocked one had been Steve.

“No,” he’d said, though he’d been tempted to suggest a douche. Still, they’d sat there awkwardly until Greg had come out fully dressed and given Gayle a sloppy kiss goodbye.

Never very sexy when dressed, Gayle’s only attraction in Greg’s robe had been her ill-confined bosom. Still, by the time she’d stripped him -- she’d insisted he go first -- he had a near-record boner. Between what he had heard the night before, the satisfaction he hadn’t received that night, and the near-incest of fucking his near-brother’s near-wife, he was deeply aroused.

When he had removed the last -- really, only -- layer from Gayle, the opulence of the breasts were arousing but not surprising. The forest on her mound had been.

He’d played with that, stroking his fingers through the abundant hair until he found the luscious lips.

“Yeah,” she’d said. “Get me ready. You sure are.” He’d played with lips and clit until she was gasping. She dragged him with her when she fell back on his bed. Then he’d entered her full, wet warmth. When he was on top of her softness and deep in her, they shared their first kiss. His tongue was soon keeping time with his cock as he pierced her at both ends. Not a dozen strokes and her cunt was tightening around him. The spasm was like an earthquake under him and hot lava around him.

Afterward, she had pulled against him when he had moved down his body. He rested, though with his head immersed in her immense cleavage. “Yeah,” she’d said and pressed her softness to both sides of his face. He’d feared suffocation, but it would have been a great way to go.

The second time had been slower, sweeter. He’d remembered his earlier worries about sloppy seconds. Well, she’d been a little wetter than earlier, but Gayle was all about abundance.

The Crew had grown rather than been created, but that morning was as good a point to call the beginning as any.

And, as he watched Gayle clutch Bruce’s ass and Bruce convulse on top of her, he thought that this might be another sort of beginning.

Sharon watched Bruce make love to Gayle with his smooth cheek. He’s seen what Bill had done just before his turn, seen that it worked, figured out his version of it.

She thought that, while Bruce might not be leadership material, he had brains. The guys all thought about the size of their cocks, but brains counted more in giving a girl a good time. Sharon wasn’t certain, though, that what she ordinarily thought was a good time was what Gayle needed this night -- certainly not six good times in a row.

Still, six “wham, bam, thank-you-ma’am” sessions were probably not what Gayle needed, either.

Her opinions aside, she could see that Gayle’s opinion favored Bruce. She spread her vulva and guided his penis into her vagina.

That entry earned Bruce a smile from Gayle, and she could remember when something similar had earned him a wide smile from her. When had been her best time with Bruce?

She might nominate one of those morning “sleeping pills.” She’d come back from a time that the ortho floor had been wild. A woman who had used up her pain injections for the hour had been screaming. That woke the rest of the floor, and an ortho patient with a full bladder needed a nurse. Most medical patients could get to the toilet by themselves, but few ortho patients could.

Anyway, the night had been long, and she hadn’t wanted adventure, or even exercise, when she’d gone to bed. Bruce could tell, and he got her out of her top and into bed. Then he’d untied her shoes and pulled her slacks and panties off.

“Lie there,” he’d said, “and let me care for you.” He kissed her from her forehead to her breast without visiting her mouth. Then he’d kissed down her abdomen. By the time he’d reached her vulva, she’d been running. He’d kissed her labia, and then licked her clitoris.

She had been on fire, and every muscle had been tense. By then, however, she had welcomed that tension. With her just on the edge, he had backed off and held himself above her.

“Yes,” he’d said when he had slid his penis into her vagina, “let me do the work.”

And he’d done the work, holding himself above her on his extended arms so only their genitals had touched. She’d been so far along that it had taken him only something like a dozen strokes. He’d pulled back, rammed himself deep into her, and throbbed inside her.

When he’d dropped, he’d contrived to drop to his side. She had been nearly asleep when he’d risen and covered her, and she was all the way asleep not a minute later.

It hadn’t been the most exciting sex in her life, but it had been the most thorough meeting of her needs that she had ever experienced.

And now Gayle had quite different needs, and Bruce was meeting those.

Now, if Gayle’s pulling on Bruce’s buttocks could be credited, Gayle needed more force and more speed in his strokes. Bruce responded in that way, and Gayle seemed happy. Though Bruce was driving in and out, he wasn’t moving Gayle on her new bed.

Sharon’s vagina warmed and moistened as though the driving strokes were in her instead of in Gayle.

She wasn’t as far along as Gayle, though. Gayle had her legs spread and braced to thrust back at Bruce. However much the man teased, and Bruce looked like he was driving for his own finish rather than teasing, when you thrust like that, the end was coming soon.

And it came for both of them. Well, the ritual was half-way along. Although Gayle looked healthier than she had expected at that point, she called a break now or not at all.

She announced, “A few minutes for recovery.” Greg finished stripping, but he didn’t challenge her.

Wayne had got his breath back before Bruce took his turn. At first, he’d thought that Bruce would take his bluff and go muff-diving on Gayle. He was only playing Bill’s game without the beard.

Wayne had to admit, however much he thought the girls exercised too much control, that Bruce was wise to follow Gayle’s lead when her lead was into her gaping cunt. Bruce held her tits while he plowed her. Was he risking getting too stimulated and coming before she did?

Probably not. At this time of the night, Gayle was probably hotter than a pistol.

Bruce, whom he’d never seen perform before, took long, comfortable-looking strokes. For that matter, he’d never seen any of The Crew, girls excluded, perform. Back in the apartment, there had been occasional sounds.

After a while, the strokes had apparently been more than comfortable for Gayle. She grabbed on to Bruce and fucked him back.

Bruce responded, and they both seemed to be approaching their climaxes.

Wayne watched Gayle’s body arch as she thrust up into Bruce’s downward stroke. Then they both shook before lying still.

When Bruce rolled off, Sharon called a break.

Greg watched Bruce’s foreplay with mixed thoughts. He was next, and he was more than ready; Bruce should get it on, get off, and get out of the way.

On the other hand, the more Gayle enjoyed his predecessors, the readier she would be for him. Gayle always said that three women could keep six men happy, and six men could keep three women even happier. Well this was the time to find out whether six men in a row could keep one woman happy. What the other women would do tonight was an open question.

Then, too, he could learn from watching. Bill had used his beard, and Greg would use his. Bruce, not having one, used his smooth cheek to soothe Gayle’s skin. Well, you use what you have, and the women liked what Greg had.