The idea of meeting with several men for an evening of sex had been wandering the back roads of my mind for several years. Where, when, who with, and how to arrange it were all stumbling blocks. It was not like I was in need of a sex outlet; what with a husband, and a lot of quickies at parties. When I was between books, or otherwise bored, my mind would wander to things that would be exciting, such as a cruise, trips to Vegas, New York, or yes; long hot sex.

On March third, I came in from the pool and after taking my suit off, stood looking at my naked reflection in the mirror. "Damn woman, you are beginning to show some crow feet by your eyes," crossed my mind. "Still and all, your figure still can turn heads, and a face lift will be in the works in a couple of years." At forty one, I can't pass for thirty any more. "Well, darn, if I have anything I want to try, there is no better time, then now." With that, I put on my robe and turned on my computer.

That was it. It was the moment that I knew I was going to explore the myths of group sex.

I had laughed when I had heard the term, "Gangbang." From what I knew, a girl had several men taking turns putting their dicks in places, where I wanted men to place their dicks. Up to that time, I thought that, contrary to conventional wisdom, it was the woman's advantage to have a couple hours of constant attention, while the guys got only a few minutes each. Should men say, instead, that they have given "her" a good "Wonderfuck?"

After a week of roaming in cyberworld; primarily in the "Swinger," "Interracial," Slut wife," sites, I determined that there were well organized groups of men in Montreal, Camden, Nashville, Tampa, Orlando, and Las Vegas that were available to provide a woman with several men, who were young, good looking, black and white.

Since my travels include all those places, it became a matter of which was the best forum for me. Vegas was out, because the members had a bad reputation. Tampa and Orlando were out since I go to parties in both cities. It would be easy for someone to identify me by checking my car plates. Camden and Nashville were eliminated because the "place" was in an area that I did not want to travel in alone.

The question then became; "Just what does Montreal have to offer?" My e-mail to a Mr. Vermon Bartray of the "Montreal Stallions" brought a reply that was almost a put-down. Read this, will you. "Dear Ms. Kendall, We

would be pleased to consider you for our services. As a general guideline, we must inform you that we prefer woman between twenty five and forty, no more then 150 pounds, with genuine breasts. Swinger experience, multi orgasmic, anal, and oral skills enhance your qualifications.

"Qualifications?" "Was I over the hill at forty one," was all I could think, as I read and reread the message?

It continued; "Upon the receipt of information describing your past experience, and a current photo, we will contact you with photos which will confirm that we are, indeed, deserving of the name, "Stallions."

As I shut down the computer, and stormed out of the den, I cussed them;"Well, damn you all to hell, I sure don't need you jerks to get my sex life humming."

Two days later, when my dander had changed to the challenge of;" Once you guys see my picture, you will swamp me with invitations," I mailed them a note detailing that I had bedded over 100 men. I also sent my picture. Lastly, I informed them that Saturday, May 20, 2000 was a good date for me.

Damn them. They sure were not waiting with "baited breath" for my e-mail.

A week later, I received an e-mail saying that I was accepted.

There was not much left to the imagination. They would arrange for the number of men to be with me. I was to expect; "Tag team, deep penetration

for an extended period of time - vaginal, anal, and mouth. I would be placed

in several devices designed to allow the most sexual satisfaction for all concerned.

I flew into Montreal on the 17th of May and got a room at the "Royal Towers."

Being busy preparing for meetings on the 18th and 19th took my mind off the "party." May 20, at four PM, alone in my hotel room, I sipped a "bloody Mary," as I ironed the dress I was to wear. I frowned as I thought; "Was I getting in over my head?" "Heck, all they have are cocks?" "Pieces of soft meat, that give me a wonderful feeling when it is in me." Another "Bloody Mary."

The cab stopped in front of Rue Labell 26684. As the cab departed, I eyed the place. Four story gray stone building with a lounge on the first floor.

Soft Jazz, and the murmer of conversation gave a warm feeling to me as I walked to the bar as instructed. "Mr. Bartray in?" "Yes, Ms. Kendall, he is expecting you. I will buzz him." "Hmm, they don't miss a trick, they have given a picture of me to the bar tender so that he can greet me," I thought as my eyes traveled around the room.

I am attracted to self assured, handsome men. Vermon Bartray was all of that and more. Six two, 185 pounds, and clothes that were cool, top of the line, complete with dinner jacket. Offering his arm, he led me to the elevator. Speaking softly and close to me, like he had known me for years, this black man conveyed that he knew what he was about.

His digs covered the third and fourth floors. Leather, and plush carpet.

I was surprised to find three other very attractive, and well dressed, women mingling with ten men, all dressed in the fashion of Vermon. "Hmmm," I did not think three to one was worth the trip. We will see?

For the next half hour we snacked, and I had two glasses of the punch. I should have paid more attention to the punch.

To regress here, let me explain that the "Stallion" information pack mentioned that some of their members were grad students, including pre med. They had access to various medicines. You should also know that I do not smoke, or know anything about "street" drugs.

I and the other three ladies, by chance, went to the toilet at the same time. One gal said that this was her second time with the "Stallions." "I really like the punch." We all looked at her, like she was nuts. She continued; "When you start to giggle from the stuff in the punch, the men know that you are ready for them to take you." What stuff in the punch," I asked? "Oh, it makes you very happy, pain free, and every place anyone touches you feels sooooo good," was the answer.

"She is nuts," was my reaction as I rejoined the men. Vermon started to dance with me. Half way through the dance, I stopped and begin to giggle. Just stood there giggling. Another gal looked at me and burst out laughing. On clue, the men led each of us away in a different direction. I didn't care. I was a happy camper.

Vermon was the leader, and as such, had first choice of the woman. I have a nice set of tits, which he keep staring at. He lead me to his bedroom; my first stop of the evening. A huge bed had a spotlight centered over it. Everything in the room was red. Vermon undressed me knowing full well, that in my condition, he could do what he wanted to me as long as he cared to do so.

He liked my breasts. "Sue, I choose you. You are built for comfort, and can

take me." My breasts were like live wires, they were so sensitive," I thought, as I arched my back to protrude them for his mouth to fasten onto.

He gripped both my breasts, kneading them hard and leaving red marks on them. I was impatient; waiting for him to put his hands, mouth and cock on and into my now fully ready cunt.

Happy, light headed, and wanting him to enter me, I let him lower me to the bed. It was only now that he removed his pants and climbed between my legs. Fully on me, he kissed me long and deep, with his tongue deep in my mouth. Every touch sent a shock through me. His hands were now on my buns, then my breasts. He was in constant motion. "Oh, Ohhh, my, he is sucking my clit. My legs open for his complete access. Then, he slides a pillow under my fanny and grips my fanny with both hands as he put the end of his manhood in my waiting cunt.