Chapter 6

Marge's heart pounded in her chest, beating faster than normal as she fidgeted in the car seat. She kept looking at Jack who would glance over and smile. He drove silently to an unknown destination. The only thing he had told her was that all her desires would be met. She felt so many emotions -- nervousness ... excitement ... apprehension ... desire ... wickedness. Yes, she felt wicked, but that only added to her arousal. Now that her sexual appetite was unleashed she couldn't get enough; and the more sinful the better.

They sped along the interstate, Marge constantly asking questions, but Jack remained tightlipped. They were heading towards a town she had never been to. Her head tilted and she quickly leaned forward to look up through the windshield when Jack steered the car onto the off ramp, but it was too late. She missed the sign. Where are we? she thought, her hands pressed to her thighs. Where's he taking me and why? As they weaved through the streets she took in the scenery. Wow, these houses are big. And look at those gardens. I bet it takes a large crew to care for them.

Jack made a quick turn onto a long gravel drive and drove between 30 foot high trees lined up like sentries. Marge strained her neck trying to see the tops. She looked forward again when the car came to a stop. There were many cars parked in front of a huge house with tall white pillars. She was looking at the marble fountain in the middle of the driveway when Jack opened her door. Taking his hand, she stepped out of the sedan and followed him to the large double doors. Waiting nervously, Marge looked around and then up at the underside of the canopy help up by the pillars. It was so high her head tilted all the way back. She quickly turned at the sound of the click of the front door opening.

They were greeted by a well dressed man in a light blue sports shirt and navy slacks. His jet black hair was combed straight back and, along with his goatee, Marge thought he looked like the devil, but she admonished herself for being so childish. There is no devil. It's all a big fat lie. They tell you that to frighten you. Jack introduced him as Harrison Walters and they shook hands. Marge was surprised when the stranger pulled her hand to his mouth and planted a soft kiss on the back of it. Then he led them inside.

Marge's head wouldn't stay still, looking right and left and up and down, wide-eyed like a child. The house was luxurious and she was taken with its spaciousness and beautiful furnishings. Growing up in a modest home and marrying a pious man did not expose her to such lavishness. She was speechless and followed the host through the house without uttering a word. It wasn't until she saw the room full of people that she paid attention. She hadn't known what to expect, but it wasn't a large crowd -- and especially not women.

"Ladies and gents..." Jack said and then waited until he had everyone's attention, "this is Marge." A lot of "hello's" and "hi's" were mixed together and then Jack said to the preacher's wife, waving his hand over the room full of people, "This is ... well, we have a special way of welcoming people into our group."

Jack led the preacher's wife into the room. A man came over and kissed her full on the mouth. No introduction, just a lip-lock. Marge was flustered by the brashness, but didn't pull away. As soon as the man broke the kiss, he was replaced by another and another and another. The preacher's wife stood in the middle of the room, being kissed by complete strangers. Some slipped a tongue into her mouth while others just used their lips. And then, before she even realized it, one tongue playing with hers belonged to a woman. Marge's eyes got real wide when the woman pulled away and smiled warmly but, before Marge could even gasp, another set of lips were pressed to hers. And so it went until everyone in the room had kissed her -- both men and women alike.

Once the ritual had ended, people began talking again. Some introduced themselves to Marge while touching her. Not just on her arm, but on her hip, waist, and even ass. She was stunned by the casual caresses, but too dumbstruck to protest. Anyway, their hands on her felt good.

Marge was chatting with a woman when someone came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against his body. She felt his hard-on and pushed back. His hands slid up her body to cup her breasts. Closing her eyes, Marge leaned her head back onto his chest, releasing a soft moan that sounded like a purr.

Marge ignored the movement of her dress until she felt someone sliding against her legs. Opening her eyes and looking down, her dress flowed over someone crouching, someone nudging her legs. The man behind her nibbled her neck and then her earlobe. Marge closed her eyes, lost in the sensuous feeling, her hand covering one of the man's squeezing her tit. She spread her legs simply to keep her balance.

Marge moaned when soft lips pressed onto her pussy -- directly on her pussy since she wasn't wearing panties. She pushed back on the hard cock behind her, grinding her ass on it. She felt fingers and a tongue between her legs and she moaned again, a louder one this time. Her knees buckled and pointing outward. The man dropped one arm and clutched her below her breasts, holding her up.

The mouth and tongue on her pussy did all the right things. Marge had learned to enjoy her pussy being licked, but what she was experiencing was better than the way Jack did it. The tongue seemed to know just where to lick and when to linger on one spot, and when to move to the next. It was as if the person could read her mind. All too soon Marge felt her orgasm approaching and placed both hands on the head hidden under her dress, humping her hips, pulling the person's tongue into her, smashing her wet pussy and clit on the person's face. Marge shuddered, her climax prolonged by the continued gentle licking of her clit.

Marge opened her eyes and tugged her dress up. She gasped when she saw the long red hair. The woman she had been chatting with looked up and smiled, her face wet. Marge suddenly realized she was holding her dress at her waist in front of a gawking crowd. She let it go and the redhead leaned back to allow it to fall straight down.

The woman stood and leaned next to Marge's ear, whispering, "You taste delicious," and smacked her lips. Marge blushed, and then jerked her head back when the woman pressed her lips against hers, but the man's chest behind Marge stopped its retreat. The lips were wet, and soft. A tongue pushed against Marge's lips and the dazed preacher's wife parted hers allowing entry into her mouth. On autopilot, she sucked the redhead's tongue, tasting herself.

Marge felt her dress lifted and then it was up to her armpits, being tugged. Breaking the kiss, she raised her arms without thinking, and as soon as her dress was removed she leaned forward seeking the other woman's mouth. The preacher's wife was lost in the desire to feel those lips, so very different from a man's. They kissed again -- passionately! -- until the man behind her pulled Marge away.

"No," she whined, opening her eyes.

In a sexual daze, Marge watched the redhead raise her arms and then someone behind her pulled her dress up over her slim body leaving her completely naked. Marge's eyes scanned her body, at her large breasts with erect nipples, over her flat belly to the juncture of her legs where her pussy was hairless, the thin inner lips hanging out from the outer ones. Her eyes darted back to the redhead's face, to her sensuous lips.

The man holding Marge released her. She pounced onto the other woman, their bodies melding into one. Their mouths reunited as they pressed their naked flesh together, the redhead's large breasts flattening hers, their arms hugging each other tightly. Marge felt a thigh between her legs and spread them feeling something soft and wet on her own thigh. She ground her pussy against the woman's thigh and soon both women were humping the other's leg while they passionately kissed.

The others in the room circled the two lovers, watching, not making a sound. The only noises in the crowded room were the moaning and heavy breathing of the two women lovers.

Marge was tugged by the other woman and willingly followed her to the floor, their lips still locked. She found herself lying on top of the redhead between her spread legs. Grinding her hairy pussy against the bald one, Marge sucked on the woman's tongue, saliva leaking from her open mouth running down the sides of the woman's face. Marge pulled back to take a breath and then leaned in for another kiss.

"Please kiss my tits," the redhead said breathlessly.

Caught up in the sexual moment, the preacher's wife scooted down and placed her lips on the other woman's breast. The redhead moaned causing Marge to suck the large nipple into her mouth and flick her tongue over it. She then moved to the other tit.

Marge felt the woman's hand on her head, gently pushing. She moved lower, her lips grazing the warm flesh, planting little kisses along the way. Marge kept moving until her lips were on the redhead's abdomen, trying to capture the woman's slightly protruding bellybutton between her lips. She wanted to suck it like the cocks she had learned to love. She couldn't quite grab it, and then the redhead shimmied backwards, the elusive bellybutton out of reach. And then the woman's pussy appeared in front of Marge's face, hairless, the outer labia full and puffy, the inner lips extending past them, the clit unusually large, exposed and vulnerable. <P< "Please kiss me there," the redhead implored. "Please make me feel good."

Marge hadn't been able to get her lips around the woman's bellybutton, but now she saw a miniature cock. Marge leaned closer, using her thumbs to push the labia apart exposing the "little penis," making it pop out more. Pressing her face into the woman's soft skin, the preacher's wife captured the large clit between her lips and sucked, flicking it with her tongue.

"Oh yes, please don't stop. Do it. Oh ... yes, like ... oh..." the redhead panted.

Without stopping, Marge's eyes rose to see the woman's head moving from side to side. She remembered how good the other woman made her feel and wanted to return the favor. She released the clit from her lips and licked it furiously. The woman's hips jerked so Marge's hands, still on her pussy, pressed her to the ground. The woman's knees rose, tilting her pussy up slightly. Marge lifted her head and slid her thumbs down a bit. Digging them into the meaty flesh, she pushed outward, exposing the pink inside and the gaping hole. She licked the moist flesh and then the tip of her tongue wedged into the hole. The woman moaned and the preacher's wife drove her tongue into her as far as she could, her cheeks pressed against the woman's labia. The redhead's legs flew into the air and came crashing down on Marge's back as her thighs sandwiched her head. The preacher's wife kept tongue-fucking her until she let out a high-pitched shrill, her thighs tightening around Marge's head, her hips jerking, thrusting her pussy into Marge's face. And then the redhead went limp, her legs sliding off Marge's body to the carpeted floor.