She was simply smiling at me, and when I looked at her, her smile widened.I smiled too, albeit in confusion. “What…?” I asked quietly so as to n...t disturb the other two. Molly said nothing in response and just leaned her head against my shoulder, which was… uncharacteristic of her, to say the least. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the uncharacteristically giggly and affectionate Molly, the same Molly that never came to movie night, was drunk.But we were playing by new rules now. She. I lick my lips. I’m wet and I’m alone. Thoughts of last night race through my mind. My body, begging me to touch myself. Bring me to that place. The place my mind and body were last night. Quivering, sweatting, can’t catch my breath, last night. Orgasm after orgasm, brought on by multiple partners. Multiple, thick, solid, meat inside of me. Hands groping, pulling, biting, licking and sucking. I close my eyes. Did last night really happen? The images are all there. The beautiful, male. This time, I was intended to keep going until she could take no more. We were a writhing mass by the time she’d had her third or fourth orgasmic spasm (I wasn’t keeping count). Then she was squirming and laughing. By now, her clit was exquisitely sensitive, and touching her was unpleasantly ticklish. I simply gathered her into my arms and held her. I stroked her hair, kissed her forehead, caressed her cheeks, sang soft songs to her, and she basked in my gentle attentions. I was very content to. The air was permeated with a haze of sweet reefer smoke wafting above the crowd as our instrumental rumbled to a climax, our lead singer hollering ''thank you!!'' to the throng and yelling out the count to our last tune, a hot little blues number about a cat caught playing in the wrong kittens bed. As our bass player Lance thumped out the opening notes I heard a audible squeal of ecstasy escape her luscious lips, her body shaking and wiggling with delight.I reckon I should describe this hot.
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