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“Go Sunshine!” she yelled.
I danced around the circle wondering which guy would be next. The music stopped and I found the country boy who’d passed out the blue pills. Out of excitement I jumped into the air where he caught my hips and held me in his strong arms as he sat me carefully on his cock. I took him all the way in like the rules stated, but then I was all over him, scratching the back of his head as I fucked him. His cock felt different from Emery’s. It was fatter, wider. Not as long but much rounder. He started to say something when I stuck my right tit in his mouth.
The music started and I wanted to kill the DJ. What the fuck was he trying to do to me? How was I going to get off if I had to keep…getting off. When I stood up I saw the country boy led out of the game.
Wiggle by Jason Derulo played and each woman in line wiggled her ass. Nine women now marched around eight men.
“You know what to do with that big fat butt…wiggle wiggle wiggle,” everyone sang.
When the music stopped I found Bastian, but with him, I turned around backward and sat on him reverse cowgirl. I reached around and grabbed the back of his head with my left hand, leaned back against his chest, and played with my clit with my right hand. The crowd went wild as I fucked my man while they had front row seats. I was gone, buzzing so fucking good, and I didn’t care about the game. Bastian was hitting me right where I needed him to and I only wanted to fuck.
The music stopped and I pouted as I kissed him goodbye. I stood and moved around. Bree was led out of the game along with Emery. Eight girls, seven men. I fucked Pasha and Rodge and some dude named Peter and another named Frankie. I didn’t win the game but I did come again. Frankie did it. That was my favorite round. I was one of only a few girls and when the music stopped I grabbed his cock and carefully sat on it. He had one of those cocks that curves upward and I was slightly afraid I’d hurt his already bent dick.
I knew as soon as I took the plunge that I was in for a treat. He immediately nudged my g-spot and pulled my body in tight to his. I held him so fucking close I thought I might become one with this chair. It was more sensual than any of the other fucks so far. He left no breathing room between us as he jack hammered my ass, holding me in place as he swiftly fucked upward, pounding me into submission. When the music started again I didn’t budge. I didn’t give a shit about the game anymore. I needed to come and Frankie was doing it right.
Being that it was my birthday, Vivi egged me on instead of stopping me.
“We will now take a brief pause from the game. Ladies, if you’d like to stay in your current seat for a little while, go ahead. We’ll continue as soon as our birthday girl decides she’s able to keep going,” she announced.
“Sunshine! Sunshine! Sunshine!” people chanted.
I pumped one fist in the air in victory as I continued to ride the cock that was fucking me into oblivion. Nearby I saw Bastian, still in the game, fucking Suzanne. This time I didn’t care. She rode him but it seemed boring compared to the sex I was having. Pasha was fucking some girl too. I closed my eyes and enjoyed Frankie.
When I came, Frankie didn’t stop. He was a machine, shoving his cock up into me so fast and so hard, like he was twerking in his seat. I’ve had fast sex before but…holy shit. I couldn’t even talk or scream because my body was shaking too hard. So he held me tight and fucked me through it. After I came, I got up, and the music started again.
Pour Some Sugar on Me by Def Leppard played and it was so appropriate. I’d poured my sugar all over Frankie who was being walked out of the game. My legs wouldn’t work quite right. He’d fucked me into a cramped up newborn doe state. The music stopped and I didn’t even try to get to a seat. I lost. Bastian stayed in two more rounds before they led him out.
Then we went home, showered, and fell asleep naked and in bed together, both too spent to have sex.”
Chapter 12
“Sounds like an interesting party,” Tension said.
“I had a good time,” I replied.
“I don’t remember what I did on my thirtieth birthday,” he said. “Probably got ignored by my wife and fucked some whore I met at work.”
“What makes a woman a whore?” I asked. “Seriously.”
He had to think about it. It was clear he wanted to carefully answer as to not hurt my feelings by accident.
“I think a whore,” he began, “is a woman who fucks…she’s a woman who…”
“You don’t know, do you?” I asked.
He sat silent.
“I asked you that for a reason,” I said. “Remember when I told you Bastian said he thought I was miserable all my life because I’d tried to conform to what society said was normal behavior? Well, think about what a prostitute does for a living. She engages in one of the oldest known professions. What is the difference between a woman who is paid for letting a man do things sexually with her body and a woman who fucks men she meets at a bar in an effort to find the one man who will truly love her?”
“Morals,” he said. “A woman looking for love is searching for something. She is motivated by her desire for more.”
“And not the prostitute?” I asked. “Is she not searching for something more? Maybe the money she makes fucking strangers helps put food on her kids’ plates. Or maybe it puts a roof over their head or maybe it’s going to help pay her way through medical school. My point isn’t even that. My point when I asked the question was to explain that sex is not a bad thing. We all do it. We all want it. People fuck behind closed doors all the time. Preachers and reverends fuck their wives. Mayors fuck beautiful women they meet, some not even their wives, so I think a whore is a brand society puts on a woman who enjoys sex and doesn’t see it as taboo or evil or dirty. A whore, in reality, is a carefree spirit, one who enjoys life’s most reasonable pleasure.”
He thought about that for a second and smiled.
“I think you just made me a believer,” he said. “I will no longer call women whores.”
“Care to dance?” said a deep slurred voice.
