Friday Night
Keywords: Friday, Night,
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Not long after this, the family upped and left. But after they had walked out, I heard the young girl call out, "hang on, I'll meet you out there". She came back in. But instead of heading for the loo, she came over to Tanya.
Something in Fawn's expression changed as Susan looked towards her. The bland, doormat look was gone, and now she was looking at Ken with a brave, hopeful smile. Ken wasn't looking back, though. He was watching Kate. Peter was still positioned over her. He was rubbing his cock along her oozing slit, the tip bumping against her, pushing her folds apart. Susan wasn't sure if Peter was being awkward or if he was trying to maintain some sort of teasing control. If so, he was barely holding it together. A muscle spasmed on one side of Peter's face, but the effect on Kate was even more electric. She thrashed her hips, frantically trying to position the head of his cock properly to slip inside her. Her mouth was open and her eyes darted from side to side in a sort of panic. Her shoulders came up off of the couch so that her head tilted back, pressing harder on Susan's thigh.
Susan looked at Peter, feeling almost as distraught as Kate. "Come on, what are you waiting for? Can't you see how much she needs it?"
Peter's face looked strained, as if his head was at war with his loins. But Kate's carnality was sapping his will; and then her thighs wrapped around his hips, and that did it. He sank into her with harsh, dissonant groans from both of them. They began to move together immediately, violent slaps sounding as their bodies met. Beads of sweat sprang from Peter's forehead, dripped down his face and onto Kate's chest. Her look was wide-eyed, astonished, her cries guttural now, from deep in her chest every time Peter's hips lunged towards hers.
But Peter wasn't ready to abandon himself, he was fighting it, fighting his own primal needs. Susan could see the resolution on his face, and with a single brutal effort he pulled himself almost upright, kneeling at the end of the couch with his cock still buried deep between Kate's folds, perspiration gleaming on his chest, his expression unreadable again, but his eyes looking straight into Susan's. Her mouth opened in shock. He'd been thinking about her the whole time. Susan looked away only to find Luke staring at her. He had pulled himself back together and his expression was the one she liked least, cool and appraising.
This is pretty fucked up, Susan thought. Peter and Ken are watching me, I'm watching Peter, Ken is watching Kate, Fawn's looking at Ken. Susan shook her head". I shouldn't be part of this. I'm lucky to have Ken. He's good for me, he challenges me, opens me up, teaches me about myself."
She forced herself to concentrate on Ken, on what was doing to her. His hand was slipping all the way under her hips, forcing her to lift them a little off of the couch, touching her in places where … where she wasn't used to being touched. She realized that Peter could see her, and probably Luke too. Actually, Luke was looking at her pretty intently. The hell with him, she thought. She reached down and wriggled her butt until she could work her panties off, then pulled them down and off her feet. She leaned back and opened herself for Ken, feeling liberated and primitive and devastatingly sexy.
Ken's hands caressed her skin, glided along her inner thigh and the ridge at the top of her hip. He laid his palm on her belly. His flesh seemed to burn against hers. She was suddenly so sensitive everywhere. His breathing deepened as he ruffled her pubic hair. It was his way, she realized. Like slow music. He was savoring her in the same way he would sip a glass of his beloved Margaux. Susan smiled luxuriously and relaxed into his rhythm, feeling the sensations heighten with each stroke of his fingertips.
Even so, she couldn't really ignore Kate and Peter – Kate's head banged against Susan's leg with each thrust of Peter's hips. Susan looked down to the point where their bodies met. The long, slick shaft of Peter's cock slid in and out savagely, stretching her lips wide and pushing them in on every stroke. His balls were hidden beneath their bodies, but she could hear their slap each time their hips came together. The muscles on Peter's chest were pulled tight and the complicated ridges of his stomach rippled and contracted. He reached down and covered Kate's mound with his hand. Susan felt her own excitement spike out of control and she realized that Ken was rubbing his thumb in circles around her clit, just as Peter was starting to do to Kate. Susan squirmed hard against Ken's hand, and he slid one finger all the way inside her. She gasped and grabbed his arm, holding him there while her pussy contracted hard and moisture spurted. She arched her back, but her eyes stayed on Peter. Their gazes locked for a moment, and Susan's vision narrowed. All she could see was Peter's face and his shoulders, as if everything else in the universe had momentarily faded away. A sheen of perspiration illuminated his skin, and his clear brown eyes, more enigmatic than ever, stared so deeply into hers that she finally had to look down. But that was even worse. Now she was watching Kate's breasts sway violently at the impact of Peter's hips and her stomach curving smoothly into the darkness where the rigid column of his cock, dark with blood, pumped in and out, the rounded tip pausing for a moment at her entrance each time, and his dark pubic hair holding sparkling drops of her liquid.
For a moment Susan lost track of what was happening to her. The constant pressure that Ken had been applying was suddenly gone. Its loss left her stunned and almost desperate, but then she felt Kate take her hand, and at the same moment her legs were being pushed farther apart. She sighed and squeezed back on Kate's fingers, knowing what was coming next, and she could finally look away from Peter and close her eyes.
She tried to figure out where Ken was now – on his knees in front of her, leaning over her? In front, she decided. If he were leaning over her she'd feel his chest against her leg, but there was only the whispery touch of his fingers on her inner thighs and his warm breath on her pussy. She was already so aroused she didn't want to wait any longer to feel his tongue inside her. But rushing wasn't his way. He kissed her thighs everywhere; and she imagined all her nerve endings lighting up. And his fingers caressed her where his mouth had just been, stoking the sensations, enflaming her, keeping her at the edge of … something, something she'd only imagined but never knew if she could really have. And every time she thought his lips would touch her where she most wanted him, he would pull back, and then he began to give her little bites, just pulling at her flesh with his lips, scraping it here and there with his teeth, letting her feel the different textures of his mouth, and licking, tickling … and then, "oh"!, finally brushing her outer lips with his nose, with his lips, kissing them, blowing lightly on them. She wriggled on the couch, tilting her hips up, trying to get closer to him, but the weight of Kate's head and shoulders prevented her from moving much. She bit her lip in frustration. But Ken didn't react. He kept kissing her, nuzzling her. Now he was following the inner landscape of her loins with the tip of his tongue, barely touching her, just tracing the contours of her folds, pausing to lick up her moisture.
Susan's body was feeling so warm she imagined that she would be covered in sweat before long, her t-shirt sticking to her skin, clinging to her damp breasts and belly. Should she just take it off now or would Ken like seeing her like that? Those thoughts scattered when Ken began to suck on her inner lips, running his tongue across the trapped skin. His fingers were there too, and one had begun to worm back into her recesses, squelching against the swollen flesh. She heard herself making small, sharp cries every time his lips explored some new spot that always seemed to be even more sensitive than the last.
He had a second finger inside her now, and her breathing became erratic. She couldn't coordinate her motions; her muscles just wouldn't respond. She tingled everywhere and her body tightened and she knew she was past the point of no return. Ken's tongue lashed across her clit and Susan screamed. Her pussy contracted hard and she felt as if she were being overwhelmed by a wave that left her drenched and breathless and so sensitive that she wanted to push Ken away; but she couldn't. She was paralyzed, all her nerve endings firing at once. And then it happened again, her body spasming uncontrollably, and then she had to make him stop, she had no choice, only she still couldn't move.
But, as always, Ken could sense her mood perfectly, and he pulled away and sat back down next to her, arm around her shoulder, rubbing her back gently. Clarity returned little by little, although her pussy kept quivering and muted ripples of pleasure continued to flow through her body. She was vaguely aware of Peter groaning sharply and Kate's voice becoming a hoarse wail and her body stiffening against Susan's leg.
And then it was very quiet. The music had stopped – had stopped quite a while earlier, Susan guessed – and there were no sounds at all, just breathing and the wall heater cycling on and off. When Susan finally opened her eyes, she realized that Ken had thoughtfully pulled her shirt down to cover her pussy and he was lightly touching her neck and her cheek. Her return to consciousness was almost like a signal to the others. Peter and Kate were sitting up and rearranging their clothing. Luke stood and stretched. He'd re-tied his robe at some point, Susan was relieved to see. He went into the kitchen and came back with a handful of shot glasses and the now-half-empty bottle of tequila. He poured a couple of fingers for everyone and passed it around.
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Keywords: Friday, Night,