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Brenda subconsciously licked her lips. “Well. There are about eight to ten men, naked and horny. Their hard dicks, long and thick—and even short fat ones . . .”
LaQuandra cringed inwardly at the idea of a short fat dick trying to enter her. She wouldn’t dare let some stumpy-dick man fuck her. Her pussy probably wouldn’t get wet, anyway, she mused. Then, again, lies. Right about now, she’d practically beg a stumpy-dick fucker to poke her untouched slit, give her a good teasing, with its head, because that’s all it would be—a tease. Shit. Some attention from a hard dick, itty-bitty or not, would be better than nothing at all. She was tired of using her fingers and her dildo.
“One after the other, the men are fucking me, giving it to me real good,” Brenda continued, crossing and uncrossing her legs. She felt her body begin to heat as she shared her desire to be the only woman surrounded by men who took turns ravishing her cunt, her mouth, and, maybe, even her ass. Each dick pushing against her inner walls, filling her, testing her, thrusting wildly, hammering inside her until she screamed out.
She would be fucked hard and deep until her body burned and stretched and gushed wet fire, her orgasm white-hot and blinding.
“And then when they’re all done taking turns with me,” Brenda said. “I lie on my back, my hand between my legs, playing with my raw pussy, while they circle me, jerking their wet, sticky dicks.” Brenda licked her lips again. “Simultaneously, they grunt and come, coating me with load after load after load of white, creamy nut—in my face, in my opened mouth, on my breasts, all over my stomach, and over my throbbing pussy. When they are done, I am soaked in cum.”
Ooh, I knew I would like this one, Dr. Dangerfield mused as she regarded Brenda’s fantasy. “Sounds like what you desire is a gangbang. Not an orgy.”
Ugh. LaQuandra made a face. Ooh, this bitch is nasty. However, she knew she didn’t have room to judge after all the random fucking she’d done in her life.
Brenda smiled, then licked over her lips. “Yes. A gangbang.”
Krista grunted. “Mmph. Why would any decent woman want to be in some filthy group sex mess?”
“What Mrs. Woods seeks isn’t group sex,” Dr. Dangerfield declared. “Group sex—or as it’s typically referred to as, an orgy—is where there are several participants performing a variety of sexual acts while sexual acts a
re being performed on them as well. There is often sharing or swapping happening between them as well; however, in a gangbang, several people perform sexual acts on only one person, either taking turns or at the same time.”
Krista frowned. What a filthy heathen. It sounded nasty, but she kept her opinion to herself.
“Thank you for sharing that very sexy scenario with us.” Dr. Dangerfield uncrossed her legs, then crossed them at the ankles. “What about you, Mrs. Lewis. Would you like to share with us what you desire, sexually?”
“Wellllll,” LaQuandra said, tooting her glossed lips. “Mine isn’t quite as kinky as this one’s”—she flicked a finger over at Brenda—“but since you’ve asked. I’ve never, ever, cheated on Isaiah. And, honestly, I would probably never even consider it if things between us were different. But they aren’t . . .” She paused, taking a breath. “Just once, I want to cheat on him. I wanna have sex with a man I don’t know, and would never see again. A stranger. I want him to ravish my body, do me in ways Isaiah has never dared.”
“So, you want him to watch?” Brenda wanted to know. “Now that would be some sexy shit.”
LaQuandra wanted a wild night of uninhibited sex. Just one night of reckless abandon. Maybe she’d feel better. Maybe she’d be able to forgive Isaiah for sneaking off with that trifling bitch, Cassandra.
She shook her head. “Oh, God, no. Isaiah would never go for that.”
“So, would you rather he walked in and caught you in the act?” Dr. Dangerfield questioned.
If she were a scandalous bitch, she’d fuck one of his brothers or, maybe, his sixty-five-year-old father. She’d heard he had a big, juicy dick. But she wasn’t that kind of woman. Well—okay… not anymore. And, besides, she didn’t want to hurt Isaiah like that. Sharing her body with another man was more for her. She wanted validation that she was desirable. She wanted to feel sexy and wanted; something Isaiah had failed to do over the last several months; maybe even longer if she were willing to be completely honest with herself.
“No. I want it to be my own little dirty secret,” LaQuandra confessed. “You know, something I can keep to myself. I need to be able to look Isaiah in his face with a smile, knowing I gave someone else a taste of what he thinks, what he still believes, is his and his alone.”
Dr. Dangerfield understood. “What if I told you that Passion Island is all about delivering the most sensually intimate experiences, and can help you turn that fantasy into a reality? Would you still want to explore it?”
Would she?
Could she?
She’d given up all of her whoring ways once she’d snagged Isaiah. Yes. She’d changed her ways. She’d hung her whore hat up and burned her ho-card, vowing to never let another man touch her body or slide between her thighs as long as she had Isaiah.
But where had that gotten her?
LaQuandra’s pulse raced at the possibility. Just once. What could be the harm in that? What Isaiah didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Right?
She pursed her lips, contemplating. The thought fanned a small spark of excitement through her. “Yes,” she pushed out. “I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
Dr. Dangerfield smiled. “You’ll need to think it through, very carefully,” she warned. “Because once you step through that door, there’s no turning back once the deed is done.”
“I know,” LaQuandra murmured. “I’m clear. I want it. No”—she shook her head—“I need it in more ways than one.” And then she chuckled. “Whew, is it getting hot in here, or is it just me?”
“No, girl,” Brenda said. “It’s definitely not you. All this talk about fantasies, I’m so ready to get back to my husband.” She laughed. “I’m gonna tear his ass up.”
