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Chapter 17
Camping
Don was invited to stay at Sam’s for the weekend, bothered by a few reasons he was characterized by indecision. The first; he hoped to see Kolora again. The second; he was slowly becoming accustomed to, and enjoying, his populated surroundings. And thirdly; he did not want any of the usual maltreatment from his so-called friends, especially from Sterge. At school Sam mentioned to Don;
“Me and Weepy are going camping down the coast with a friend, do ya want to come? Sterge isn’t invited.” Not only Don thought of Sterge as too much off a cruddy troglodyte; everyone did. This favourable news facilitated positive appeal to the idea so his young adventurous spirit decided to accept the offer.
After arriving at Wirrageen and digesting Mrs Clay’s nutritious hospitality he accompanied Sam across to Weepy’s. Weepy was happy to show off his new contemporary quarters in the old caravan in the back paddock in which Fran and friends shared many intimate relations. It had been refitted and refurbished with outdated bare essentials but was cleaner, neater and tidier than before. His idea of moving from the main shack was to maintain comfort, privacy and peace of mind, and to get away from his siblings. He would only visit the main house for washing and things deemed as indispensable; such as food. It was situated well away from the other houses and allowed solitude and freedom in planning without involving unwanted denigration from the likes of his sister and Sterge.
Weepy found a new friend by the name of ‘Doryk’. He was a little older than Weepy and came across as a bit of a dull fatuous person, but his good points were; he owned a car and was friendly. Although it was his loneliness acting as a stimulant to tarry a while with Weepy, he seemed good in heart. To exclude Sterge from plans to camp away they secretly organized a meeting between themselves (Don, Weepy, Sam and Doryk). They figured without ingrates like him to complicate matters the trip would be fun and take in a bit of drinking, fishing, surfing, sun and hopefully girls.
Doryks’ car was a Hillman Minx, complete with roof racks for their ‘planks’. Beaches of first class quality were countless on the south coast of New South Wales. To make the best of the day they started the journey early morning to allow time for stops along the way at a few renowned surfing spots. They tested their skills on medium breaks and derived much pleasure from the exhilaration given by the force of the waves propelling them to the sandy shores. After their fill of surfing they set off again. On nearing the caravan park they took reconnaissance in awe of the area. It was situated near the beach and next to a large lake with the entrance blocked only by the low tide. ‘Splendor’ would be a word to help describe the scenery of the lake. Its banks were lined with shade trees swaying gently in the coastal breeze, and brilliant golden dunes projected high above the land near the entrance reflecting the gleaming sun into the ripples of water lapping the shore. They parked at the attendants door, he came out huffy and confronted them in somewhat of a rude manner exposing a disposition certainly not ascribed to the holiday atmosphere a manager should impart on his guests. Words were few as he snatched their money with a reluctance to letting them stay, probably because of their age, then he guided them to a small site about twenty feet from the amenities surrounded by tents and vans; it was packed and exciting.
Pitching the two man tent was a combined effort. They only had the one, so all four had to squeeze into it, they figured it was only for sleeping in and should not cause discomfort. Due to a lot of carefree messing around it was hours before the tent was erect, then Sam volunteered to take on the job of cooking eggs and sausages on the BBQ for dinner. On completion the eggs were rather scattered and black with oiled char stuck like glue, and the sausages were seared on the outside and half raw inside, but oodles of tomato sauce purged their taste-buds just enough to satiate tummies and appease the hunger. They sat around on logs with a cold can of beer and took stock of the organization of those other campers around them who were a bit more structured with caravans, cookers, deck chairs and all the modern facilities they could only dream of having. Begrudgingly they commented amongst themselves, it was a lot of hassle just to go camping and they much preferred their simple set-up.
Next morning Don woke to the aroma of cooking fish oozing past his nostrils, he wiped the sleep from his eyes and turned from side to side noticing he had the tent to himself. The soothing warmth of the sun’s rays radiating through the fabric afforded physical and mental rest above any concerns for the others whereabouts, so he stretched out in a state of tranquil repose for a while longer. Activities around the park became too noisy to sleep, besides he conceded to his inquisitive nature and wanted to know where his friends were. On sticking his head through the unzipped flap to a clear blue sky and odours of salt air mixed with chops, bacon, toast and eggs, he closed his eyes and sniffed in deeply; it was a beautiful smell which reminded him of the past when Pollie and Ernie cooked outside their van. On opening his eyes he thought; ‘It seems everyone is up scoffing breakfast but me.’ A yawn and a stretch followed by the limited dress of shorts over underpants and he was ready for an audience. Crawling out of the tent was an effort in itself, he scanned the area and saw no sign of the others; what he did see was a large crowd assembling down by the lake and went to investigate. Everyone was gathering around a small boat from which a fisherman hooked a seven foot ‘Grey Nurse’ shark. This in itself was of no great spectacle, Don had seen plenty of sharks before, but this one was different, it had human remains in its digestive system and the fisherman was waiting for the police to arrive. He told people he caught it in the lake and to be careful swimming. Few took notice of his warning; it did not even deter those swimmers nearby his boat listening to the story. In the crowd he found his friends who got there earlier for a dip, once they discovered what all the commotion was about they decided against it and opted to return to the tent with an emphasis on easing their hunger.
They ate burnt offerings for breakfast and confabbed about a plan of action for the day. Naturally the idea of the possibility of catching a shark of sizable proportions aroused their inner hunting instincts. They hired a small row boat like the many already floating on the lake; it was time to do a spot of serious fishing. The boat had that fishy pong which comes at no extra charge, two oars and an anchor. They rowed for ages up tide towards the mouth, hoping by the end of fishing they could catch the in-tide and let it do the hard work.
“Anchors away,” shouted Weepy as he dropped anchor and settled the boat in the still of the lake. The enchantment of the blue water slapping against the sides of the boat was all that bore intrusion to the tranquillity and magnificence of the moment. Don sat back with his feet stretched up on the gunnels and sipped his beer with thoughts of Kolora stirring his imagination and giving further rise to a half erect penis. He tried to channel his attention to recurring hopes and dreams involving his future; he wanted to achieve prosperity, power, capital, and cachet like the rich and famous. While these aspirations swirled in his imagination the others were catching bream, flathead and toads; he had not yet had one bite and there was definitely nothing as big as sharks to be caught. The tide was on the turn so they decided to float their way back to the park.
Way over the other side of the lake they noticed a new ruckus in the making. A horde of people were gathering and assisting in the pitching of a large dome shaped tent, seemingly capable of harbouring ‘Noah’s Ark’; they though it to be a circus. When they returned the boat and while waiting to be refunded their deposit, Don asked an elderly bystander;
“Do ya know what the big tent around the other side of the lake is for?” pointing his index finger in the direction of question.
“Yes. It’s for some type of a shindig. There’s a band and dancing. It will be bloody noisy I bet. Supposed to start tonight and open every night for a week; so I’m told. I’m thinking about getting my husband to pack and go somewhere quieter.” Don was excited at the prospect of dancing; it meant girls. He asked her;
“Don’t suppose ya know how much it is to get in?” She was not happy in reply;
“I just asked the park manager that very question; apparently it’s free. Freeloaders, perverts and sluttish tramps will come from everywhere.” Don thought her bitching was terrific news, he was always feeling promiscuous and out for fun, he implied to the others;
“Her info must be right. It came from the manager.” Then excitedly reasoned; “We’re pretty lucky. Instead of the long drive into town we only ‘ave to walk about fifteen minutes around the lake for a night of free entertainment.”
Late afternoon they were still unconvinced about going to the dance. They could not make up their minds because on asking around nobody could verify or confirm the real reason for the tents purpose; even they knew nothing was for nothing. While cooking eggs and baked beans for an early supper Don thought hard about using the right words to convince his friends to attend. He said;
“We should go. It has to be worthwhile walking around and checking it out. What ‘ave we got to lose? If it turns out to be crap and the small amount of time spent proves to be a useless waste, then we’d still ‘ave time to go into town. What yas think?” More discussion took place over beer and food. They agreed to go and decided to leave early to give themselves enough time to change plans if it was a non-event or far less significant than expected. Following supper all took a quick shower, donned casual wear and began their foot travel around the lake. It did not take long to realize everyone in and around the small coastal district had been informed of a dance. Hoards of traffic was building, it was evident to Don: ‘Whatever this function is in support of, it seems only the caravan park visitors ‘ave been overlooked. Everyone from miles around is here.’
The closer they got, a staggering gaze at the gargantuan size of the tent gave wonder and amazement as to how the organizers prepared it so quickly. Wooden chairs about one hundred and forty layers deep hugged the walls in a large semi-circle inside and around a main stage. In the middle a few stretched tarpaulins were utilized for a dance floor. There were hundreds of people mingling already. The stage amplifiers stacked high and were large enough to put sound across the ocean to New Zealand. Electricians and ‘roadies’ were busy with the finishing touches to the lighting and instrumental setups. Everything was progressing like clockwork.
“Testing, Testing, one, two, three, testing, testing” echoed throughout the tent. Already the air was thick with smoke and funny odoriferous stuff as the testing of the strobe lights lit the room in a smorgasbord of iridescent colours. Don and his mates pushed their way through the crowd to vacant chairs on the edge of the dance floor and prepared for the entertainment. The band consisted of three guitars, a piano, an electric organ making all sorts of weird noises in test, a drum kit, and of course a vocalist.
People were swamping the place and amongst them many beautiful girls to ogle. Don and his friends were in their element admiring the possibilities, and while endorsing the situation spread comments like;
“God, look at her body!” Sam’s eyes glued onto a pair of long legs.
“Wouldn’t mind knocking that off,” was Weepy’s main saying. Of course Doryk the dork had to go one better, he added superlatives like;
“She’s a goddess. Surely she’d let me widen her smile a little more.” And “Such a beautiful girl like her could touch this body and learn perfection comes with a big dick.” He rarely shut up and rambled on regardless of who spoke to him. Don was the silent achiever; he just sat and drooled like a kid in a lolly shop. The pitched chatter of people drowned the bands instrumental tuning until they played a loud synchrony incorporating a short harmonious composition to alert and gain the attention of the audience to something about to begin. The band silenced and a blonde haired, full-bearded, chubby little fellow with glasses walked onto the stage to address the crowd. The microphone in his hand looked as big as he and intensified the magnitude of his voice to a lion like roar, completely indifferent to expectations regarding his odd stature;
“Quiet please, hello, hello, quiet please.” He tapped the microphone and diffused the chatter to a silent whisper, then announced;
“Thank you all for coming. We hope you enjoy the evening. Although admission is free, and we do have light refreshments and offerings for a late supper, it would be greatly appreciated if you could see your way fit to donate to our lord Jesus Christ. Thank you. The first songs for tonight will be a few gospels followed by a couple of upbeat modern choices from our many talented guest performers. But before we begin, I would like to introduce you to our main disciple; Reverend Joe L Clomit.” Clomit was a tall lanky man with a very thin scarecrow type face, he was done up in a black suit with a white collar and looked more like an undertaker than an evangelist. He said his hellos and started reading from the bible;
“In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth and the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep…….” This went on for some time. Don aired his regrets to his friends;
“Bloody hell, we’ve come to a ‘frigin’ religious turnout, a shitty Jehovah sit in I think; let’s get out of here.”
“Hang on a while,” ordered Weepy as people started singing in unison; ‘Jesus Loves Me......’. “There’s heaps of crumpet here. It has to get better.”
On further assessment of the situation he was right; there were a lot more girls than boys. When the sermons came to an end the band was loud and diverse in their repertoire of songs and the music alienated further provocation from Don. Everyone was up dancing, swirling and twisting aimlessly on the floor to the rhythm and spin of the hallucinating effects of the flashing lights; and somewhat from the airborne smoke. Don’s change of mind was from self- reasoning: ‘The underlying principle of religion is belief and I know I’m not religious because I don’t believe, it’s a load of shit, so why should religion bother me. Besides the night so far is better than I thought it would be and the songs are getting better and better.’ I turned out to be the most and longest they ever danced sober. The girls were more than happy to partner any one of the males in attendance; there were not enough of them to be too fussy. Dorky Doryk even got up. He was shunned by a few girls because he danced like a wild baboon, but it certainly allowed for a lot of laughable and harmless teasing. People were gradually leaving the tent; the night was coming to an end. For an hour or so now, Don and his friends had been tripping the light fantastic consistently with the same girls, it seems the they chose to stay with the boys by their own volition and the boys were not about to complain. When they contemplated exiting the tent the girls were keen to keep partying and accepted Weepy’s invitation to join them in after dance drinks back at the campsite. All but Doryk moved to the outside of the tent, he stayed with a girl who was not so keen on departing with strange strangers. On the outside of the tent the other six spoke hand in hand with their allotted partners. Before parting, the boys promised each other to meet back at the campsite. The couples split up and went in different directions blending into the dissipating crowd; the idea was to be alone with their individual dates to get more acquainted in a quieter atmosphere.
The girl Don met was named Vera. She spoke so much more eloquently than Don. They took the longer walk around the lake before he took her back to his tent for a drink. The boys always had beer and cheap stuff like ‘Sherry’ on hand for which she was looking forward to, but when Don and Vera arrived at the tent, Sam and Weepy were already entertaining their girls. Don found them to be antisocial towards his presence and reminded himself of their close bond and how they usually shunned him when it suited them. He stacked a few cans of beer into a bag and said to his partner;
“How about we go for a walk somewhere quiet like the beach?
“Okay,” she replied. On their way she had second thoughts about walking into the night so far a distance and suggested;
“It’s a fair walk isn’t it? Let’s go back to my tent instead. Besides, do you know that girl with your friend....? - Sam isn’t it?
“Sam, yeah, that’s right. What about him? Don went on the offensive. His first thought was one of demoralising aggravation, because, by her tone he considered her question to attune to the liking of Sam over him. She answered;
“Nothing, except he’s with my camping mate, and as long as she’s with him we can be alone there; until she returns anyway.” Don was relieved and impressed with her suggestion; he was not keen on walking forever either, not just to sit on the sand in darkness. He agreed;
“Sounds like a great idea. Let’s go.”
Her tent was not far away from his and ten times as big. She said her parents drove them there and erected the tent before going back home. It could have slept twenty people easily, except for the mess, there were bikini bits about, knickers drying overhead on a makeshift line, towels and clothes everywhere and no organization of space for bedding; it was not overfull just undermanaged. But Don was not there to discuss her wardrobe or reorganize her environmental conditions and kept his comments to himself. She sat on her sleeping bag and pointed to her friend’s;
“Here you are,” she said as she sat throwing a pillow over to him. “Sit on Trixy’s bed.”
“Trixy is the girl with Sam? Your friend?”
“Yes. I told you already.”
“You didn’t say her name; I think.” Don made his-self comfortable and opened the drinks. She asked;
“Do you like playing cards?”
“Yea; doesn’t everyone?”
“I don’t know. Do they? I know I do, but we forget to bring ours. Did you bring any with you? Have you any in your tent?” She stared in wait of an answer.
“Yea, I think so, but I’m not sure. Do you want another drink?” He was tentative in reply; trying desperately to circumvent what he knew was going to be the next request;
“How about you go and get them and I’ll clean up a bit so we can move around without tripping over things. The last thing he wanted was to go back and be abused for annoying the others. He asked;
“Have you any other games?”
“No. And I love playing cards. Go on, go get them; plleeessse, for me.” He thought: ‘Oh shit! I can’t refuse. She has a great body and I reckon I could do alright here.’
“Okay? Alright I won’t be long. While I’m there I’ll see if I can get more beer.” He walked out of the tent.
Don had a few problems understanding her whimsical indulgence for cards. He was of the notion she invited him into her tent to be alone because she wanted to fool around, not amuse herself with childish games. Still, he kept his word and made his way back to search for a deck of cards. Nearing his tent, strange sounds emitted warranting caution. Following a few heedful seconds he approached the tent. While simultaneously rapping on the canvas and poking his head through the flap all hell broke loose; the tent nearly collapsed with the belligerence of Weepy and his girl as they bent up from the waist to the shock of being disturbed; they let fly crude slang. He was ‘chocker’s up her and not happy. He leaned on one arm in a half upright manner and yelled abuse;
“What the fuck do ya want? Fuck off.”
“Sorry. I didn’t........Just the cards,” replied Don. Weepy reached into a sack.
“’ere fuck off,” he said throwing the deck at Don.
“Don’t suppose I could get to the ‘Esky’ for some bee……” Don did not finish the sentence. Weepy was fuming;
“Fuck off out’f here and don’t come back. Go before I smash ya.” Don had no intentions of upsetting people, and reckoned Weepy was ready to create a lot more trouble than he was prepared for. Don’s attitude was: ‘Oh well’, at least I’ve got the cards. Vera’s more important at the moment than worrying about his tantrums.’ He made his way back to Vera’s tent and on reflection of the incident thought: ‘I didn’t realise Weepy’s girl was so ugly. Still it was pretty dark, and he’s no rose petal. I wonder where Sam was, then again, four attempting sex in a two man tent would be a bit crowded. He must of went walkabout.’
Back at Vera’s tent the first noticeable difference was she changed clothes and squared away most of the mess; it was not perfectly tidied but much better than before. Now there was room to lie on the beds and she already prepared a few nibbles in the way of cheese, crackers and salami. She commented;
“Good you’re back. Did you see Trixy? Who was there?”
“No. I’ve no idea where she is.”
“Strange. Oh well I suppose She’ll be back when she’s ready.” He said nothing about the abuse he received from Weepy, instead he changed the conversation and tried speaking with a little more decorum to match her speech;
“Yes. The food looks great. What sort of card games do you like to play? Exuberant in reply she said;
“I want to play ‘Strip Jack Naked’; I don’t know any other games. Besides it’s a lot of fun.” He choked on his dry cracker and thought: ‘I wasn’t in the mood for games but if I have to play this is defiantly the best option. I’ll go along for the ride.’ She patted him on the back and said;
“Did it go down the wrong hole? Hang on I’ll get you a drink.” She pops the cork on a Perrier style bottle of ‘Barossa Pearl’. Don tasted this drink a few times in the past and enjoyed the fruity sparkling taste.
“Where did you get this from?”
“Mum and Dad don’t know but we have a six bottles. We got a friend to buy it before we came away. Drink up,” she said tipping the glass into his mouth. While all this was going on he was trying to stop making it obvious he was perving on her.
They made themselves comfy on the sleeping bags and he shuffled the deck. She was dressed in a pair of shorts with a skimpy blouse, he was sure she was not wearing a bra and concluded it would not take long before his type of fun got under way. She suffered the first loss and had no pause for uncertainly in removing her blouse, sadly she did have a bra on, but the effect was instantaneous on Don’s dick, it rose to the point he had to move and snuggle it into another position to rectify its bend. She seemed well aware of his juggling and lowered her head with a sly grin while dealing. The game continued and it should have been tit for tat in the removal of wear, but much to Don’s dashing hopes she was taking time to bare her body by reneging on most of her losses. Although he had nowhere to go, he was almost nude, getting very impatient, and was just about to come straight out with the question: ‘do you want to fuck’, when Sam and Vera’s friend returned. Don felt this was an encroachment on his space and was about to display his displeasure with a few choice words. In considering his position he gathered his wits just in time to comprehend his near trespass with ill-mannered behaviour; after all it was not his tent and getting kicked out was not a solution. Their state of dress, or the lack of it, barely raised a second look from Trixy. Sam on the other hand nearly had to put his eyes back in his socket. All he could think of saying was;
“Aren’t you two cold.” Vera saw the funny side to his words, but Don was in no laughing mood because the ambiance for inviting a sexual encounter now seemed doomed.
It would not have mattered what Don did or said to Sam or Trixy, it would have made no difference to their actions because the way they wandered in demonstrated an imperturbable and unconcerned demeanour towards his feelings; anyway Vera was thrilled to have the company. For Don the signals were not promising, he was slightly dejected, and when the other two sat for a chat his frustration got the better of him. Ready to announce his departure he turned to Sam and chanted;
“I’m going now Sam. Ya wanna come?
“Yea, may as well. Not much happening now,” insinuating a letdown from his own expectations with Trixy; he stood at the flap in readiness to go. Don dressed and remained polite but could not control the glumness in his voice;
“ Okay, I’m ready. Hope we see ya’s again soon. Bye.” Vera bounced to her feet, held Don’s elbow and said;
“Don’t go, we have all night, haven’t we Trixy? Stay and have a couple of drinks.”
“Yea, what’s your hurry?” Trixy looked to Sam.
“No hurry,” replied Sam. Don’s feelings were hurt because he expected Sam to side with him. He did not take to rejection very well and was unsure whether or not to stay;
“Well okay, just for a few drinks. I’ve had enough of cards though.”
“Ohh come on, don’t be a stick-in-the-mud, we haven’t played yet,” said Trixy.
“Yes it’ll be more fun with four, who knows what willll happen. It was all too quick with only the two of us,” said Vera enticing Don to stay. Don succumbed to her plead and eliminated prejudicial responses as they poured a drink and set themselves ready to play. Vera proved to be a lot less stodgy since she had her friend to offer encouragement and it was not long before most of the bodies were more or less stripped bare and the alcohol began taking effect. Don was enjoying the scenery and was not going to have his enthusiasm waned by any other uncooperative pessimism or any change in focus. He was sure Sam felt the same way.
The bulge in the boy’s pants set the girl’s straight regarding any misconception about the influence they had over them; they certainly seemed conscious of their magnetic powers, but Don was still not sure if they were as serious as he or just philandering. He tested the waters by turning sideways and kissing Vera on the lips. Her reaction was encouraging, she reciprocated appropriately. (He later found out she was scared of making the first move and waited for a precursor from him). Now he knew the night was heading in the right direction. Sam and Trixy followed their lead. Vera turned the gas lantern down to a dim flicker so both parties could engage in deep petting in a more romantic light. Due to the close proximity of the couples, the accidental touch of each other’s flesh induced irregular animated imaginations and increased sexual desire. The card game was coming to an end. It succeeded in launching further action because the girls were topless and the boys only had underwear remaining, but the removal of all clothes was just a formality.
Sam and Trixy were first to connect in casual conjugation, they were like two dogs on heat and needed no prompting as they screwed in the missionary position. Don was taken by Vera’s familiarity of the human anatomy; while he was kneeling she held his dick and stroked it adeptly then turned facing Sam and Trixy. She bent forward and reached between her legs and guided him into her doggy fashion, his hard penis slithered in right up to the hilt. The girls could see each other in the faint light performing sensual acts, they held hands, touched and caressed intentionally, causing everyone to spiral in uncontrollable fashion. A rapturous drone echoed a reinforcing stimulus for heightened pleasure. Don’s partner groaned;
“More, more, faster, faster, oohhh, I’m coming, I’m coming, don’t stop, faster, faster.” As she smothered her head in a pillow to muffle the gasps, her body trembled and stiffened, Don jerked in and out ferociously a few more times and felt the tepid solution of life erupt into her warm wet slit. It was over; perspiration was cascading from his brow and he followed her to the floor as she fall face-down and relaxed into a floppy jelly substance; Don rested on top of her back still kissing and instinctively jerking in and out. He was gasping for breath and looked at Sam still going through his ritual. Vera lay there squeezing Trixy’s hand as Sam worked hard to finalise his business. Don rest in a proud state, uninterested for now in thoughts of the next moment, he rolled off her and she rolled on her side to cuddle up to him as one.
Trixy had not yet reached her peak and urged Sam to continue with panting whines of pleasure. He was puffing and blowing like an old steam train and totally exhausted. Ejaculation already sapped his energy and was now going through the motions for her sake, but he could not bring her to the point she wanted to be at. She reached across and put her hand on Don’s leg and stroked frantically trying to find extra incentive while Sam continued humping. For Don the forces of human touch involving sexual contact from two girls were mind-blowing. He rolled over and started fondling Trixy’s boobs while Vera cuddled into his back, all four were in a mixture of heaven. Sam released his load once more, but Trixy still could not find full satisfaction. Sam rolled off completely knackered and they lay with a cigarette, a drink and small talk. When sufficient rest allowed normal respiration to return the whisper turned to physical stimuli again. All Don could think about was copulation; he wanted more of the same and the girls were in agreement; they were thinking ahead of his cravings. While laying there with blithe spirited discussion Don and Sam could feel the light wispy flicks of the girls’ fingers in play against their private areas. With almost instant erections the urge set the scene for active pursuit of a second romp. The fondling was ongoing, then Trixy’s whim changed the rules, she wanted to trade partners and without consent rolled over Vera to get to Don; Vera had no objections. They seemed to know what they were doing because this time they faced each other on their sides, cuddled, and rubbed against each other with grinding pelvic motions driving the boys crazy with envy; they wanted to be involved.
Sam positioned himself at the back of Vera, and Don at the back of Trixy, and with each spiral in the girl’s motions a surge of hot hard dick’s forced gradually into them. The sporadic pushing and shoving of each other’s rhythm sent the girls into a head spinning rapture. While Don was in Trixy from behind and Sam behind Vera the girls snuggled tightly and kissed heavily, the atmosphere was electric, and the sounds of pleasure roused unbearable stimulations leading to the most enjoyable sexual encounter Don ever experienced. Sweat was again dripping from his forehead. He found Trixy to be much tighter than Vera and the sensations stronger. Plunging in and out as fast as he could the satisfactions reached the brain all to quickly and determined another ejaculation. Still Trixy had not reached her climax. They settled back and slept contentedly for the rest of the night.
Waking next morning to a warm, tight and smooth skinned body enlightened the stupefying effects of the night before. It was impossible for Don not to embrace the moment because the morning ‘wood’ was not going away without help. He rubbed it up against Trixy and stroked her breasts, she rolled over and tugged at his penis and once again provided him with sexual enjoyment, and once again he could not bring her to the most intense pleasurable part of sexual intercourse; orgasm. When they said their goodbyes Don and Sam were a little red and sore but their inability to resist the sexual gratification of a girls whims and desires gave both a night they would never forget. Don really had no extra belief in the ‘God Almighty’ than he did before this encounter, but he did consider the term ‘divine intervention’ to be something worth cerebrating.
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