Chapter 16

What do you do at the biggest orgy on the North American continent? Well, you go horseback riding, of course. We did dress up a little more. I don't care what fantasies boys have, or older men for that matter, but if you're going to bounce along on the back of a horse, you wear a bra. And long pants. I'd tried riding in shorts once, and the inside of my thighs had been rather tender for a couple of days.

We checked out some horses, proved to the staff that we knew what we were doing, and followed a trail that someone at the front desk told us about. It led us, after a mile or so, to this creek in the shade of some trees. We followed it uphill until we came to a meadow where we could dismount.

Now the "rules" everyone would expect, if you watched movies at all, was that we would fall on each other and lick up a storm. Instead we sat there talking, and looking out over the valley.

What did we have to compete for? At its heart, the competition among girls is over which boy they're going to have babies by. We didn't have that for a couple of reasons. First, we were separated geographically by some enormous distances. It was at least 1,000 miles from my home town to Minneapolis, and even farther to Portland. Second, if it was to get laid, we could go back to the party and get nailed three times before lunch. So instead we relaxed, got the party out of our heads, and did what girls have done from time immemorial: we talked. We talked of friends, boys, girls, our families, and things that were going on in our lives.

Renée was the middle child of four, and Terri the younger of two. We were all juniors in high school, struggling a little with the social scene—we were sexually active and had to hide it—and had different ideas for our future, which is a fancy way of saying we hadn't made up our minds yet. We all agreed that we would probably continue swinging. It's an addictive lifestyle. You're under very little social pressure; you have sex freely enough that it's not even remarked upon, except in passing.

There we were in the middle of talking about this boy and that one, what they did, and Renée casually mentions how his dick curved to the left when it was stiff. Later I asked what it was about when some football players just had to come on your face. Those aren't the things you'd expect in any other conversation.

Eventually we mounted up and headed back. Not without splashing through the creek, though. Horses get excited by that. I think they like the splashing, I know we did, and we got back to the stable kind of soaked. We did spend a few minutes grooming the horses before heading back to our rooms. We smelled of horses, and needed to get our clothes washed. But while that was happening—they had a maid service to do that for you—we got undressed and went downstairs for a little action.

That was something else the average person would be surprised at. We'd had breakfast, we'd had a nice ride on horseback, and now we went down to the main party floor to do a little riding of another kind. I hooked up with a guy from Rhode Island, and he absolutely insisted on me being on top (as if I was going to object). I braced myself on his shoulders as I worked back and forth on his dick. For a moment I thought I was going to beat him to death with my boobs—now that would be an interesting entry on a coroner's report!—but he finally captured them and spent some quality time kissing and sucking them. My nipples got really tight, and after a bit every touch seemed to shoot right down to my middle. It made my climax that much harder.

We all finished, and after a couple of minutes traded partners. I took Renée's partner, he was from Florida, and Terri took mine. This guy wanted to be on top, which worked for me right then, and we had a fine time. All three of us girls were pretty worked up, and I could hear Renée almost crying as she came. Terri's skin got all red when she climaxed, and all six of us were breathing hard and laughing when the last of us completed.

There's something about coming together that draws you closer. I'd seen both girls in their most exposed. Renée had a landing strip, and Terri's bush was thin enough she might as well not have had one. And when you see a friend, from just a few inches away, taking a hard dick like that, it breaks down whatever remaining barriers there were.

"I still prefer bareback," Terri said. "It seems more natural."

"I agree," I said, "but I understand why we do it this way."

Renée nodded. "House rules, as my Mom puts it. You follow their rules. It's not only polite, but it makes good sense. And here, nothing against you girls, but bareback is only safe in a group where nobody strays. Still, this is a handy way to take care of leftovers."

That produced laughter all the way around. The boys were a little tired, so we sat and talked for a bit, and gradually got worked up to the point where the boys were able to perform. The three of us got on our hands and knees, and the boys did it to us from behind.

"Dirty girls meet dirty boys," Terri said. "Why didn't you tell me how thick his dick is?"

"You didn't ask." Terri's original partner had a long one, and I swear it took him forever to put it in. There are times when that can be absolutely wonderful, and this was one of them.

This wiped the boys out, and they wanted to sleep. We were all charged up, and went looking for a little more adventure. This turned out to be in the pool, or at least beside it with the sun shining and threatening to turn me into a raw red caricature of a girl. He was an older man, and he took his time getting there. I didn't have that problem, of course, but I was done after a bit. Four guys in a couple of hours was enough for right then.