For about two years, I hung out with this woman named Susanna — a true free spirit.

We’d gone to swinger clubs, nudie resorts and even a seven-day Caribbean cruise where we’d enjoyed a smorgasbord of sex that was as bountiful as the feasts at the ship’s buffet tables.

But then we went our separate ways. Suddenly, I was a single man who still wanted to live “the lifestyle” — not an enviable position. I went stag to the few parties that admitted single guys, but they were few and far between. I stayed in touch with a few people I knew from the local swing club. But after a few months, I pretty much gave up on the whole thing.

Then, several weeks ago, I heard from this guy Drew. I’d known him and his partner, Shana, from the club. They were still active in the scene, but sometimes they played separately. Shana is more “vanilla” than Drew, who tends to be a bit kinky.

“Jeff, my man, what’s been goin’ down?” (Yes, he actually talks like that.)

“Nobody’s been going down on me, I’m afraid.”

 He laughed. “Oh, I think things are lookin’ up for ya.”

Turns out Drew and Shana had gotten to know this young woman named Deena at the club. She was sweet, petite, and pleasantly chubby, he said. “Just a tad over five feet tall, and a tad over 20. Part Swiss and part Japanese, but an all-American gal. She’s cute as a cartoon mouse.”

 “Sounds adorable,” I said. “How’s she getting along with Shana?”

“Fine, fine. But you know Shana. She’s not totally bi. She can take pussy or leave it.”

“That’s too bad.”

Drew chuckled. “Works for me,” he said. “But here’s the skinny. The mouse needs a little extra cheese.”

“Aren’t you plenty cheesy, Drew?”

He ignored that quip. “She wants to nibble on something a little more substantial than my little five-and-a-half-inch prong. Girl’s all about the monster meat. That’s where you come in, Big Jeff.”

Drew planned to gather a few guys for Deena that were especially well endowed. And, yes, I fit the bill. I may not be the youngest, best built or most handsome dude in the room, but my thick, eight-inch appendage with its big mushroom-shaped head has always been a hit at orgies and gang bangs.

“Name the time and place,” I said.

Two weeks later I knocked on the door of a motel room on the outskirts of town. These weren’t posh accommodations, but they were suitable for a more-or-less impromptu blow bang.

When I arrived, Deena hadn’t yet taken the stage. She was in the bathroom getting spruced up for the encounter to come. But Wayne, this other guy I knew from the swing club, was there. Like me, Wayne is known for being amply hung. Susanna and I had never actually played with him and his wife, though we’d talked with them occasionally. He was a short, 30-something guy with a gymnast’s body. Hmm, I thought. Guess I’ll finally see what the competition dick looks like. He and I sat on one of the two beds in the room and shot the shit, waiting for the festivities to begin.

Drew’s cell phone rang. “That’ll be Finley,” he said before giving the room number to the caller. Moments later, the new arrival entered the room. He was a tall, burly fellow in his 40s — probably six-foot-three. After introductions were made, he sat in the armchair near the mini-fridge. 

“Let me peek in on the chickadee,” Drew said, heading back to the bathroom. Wayne, Finley and I made more small talk. Minutes later, the lights dimmed, and Drew led Deena out to meet us.

She was petite, all right. Very cute. Of all things, she wore this French maid’s outfit that likely came from an adult bookstore. Her plump natural breasts were squeezed into a corseted black top. Her lacy miniskirt barely covered her beckoning ass cheeks. And her fishnet stockings showcased her smooth, shapely legs. Her reddish hair was styled in a pixie cut, and she wore a lacy maid’s cap. The only thing missing was the feather duster.

“Mon Dieu, zere are so many of you!” she said, pretending to be both alarmed and French. I felt my dick chubbing up.

Drew turned on some sexy music — some old Madonna song. “Dance for the boys, mon pêche,” he said. “She flounced about for several minutes, shaking her young booty. She came around to each of us, touching our arms and faces as she wriggled.

“You gents wanna see how little Deena sucks cock?” asked Drew.

“Cocksucking? I’m scandalized!” said Wayne. He was the comedian in the group.

Drew lifted up Deena’s skirt and ground his crotch against her ass. She moaned a cute little moan. Then she faced him, fell to her knees, unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants and yanked them down, along with his briefs. His dick — small though it was — was absolutely stiff. She lapped at it with her eager tongue. Drew soon grabbed her by the head, thrusting his penis into her mouth, as deeply as he could go with it. Eventually he backed away, withdrawing his stiff little pecker from her mouth. It was wet with her saliva.

“What do you think, guys?” he said. “Think you can give her what she needs?”

We grunted in the affirmative. All three of us were rubbing our boners through our jeans, our thoughts on her juicy mouth.

“Hmm, I think our chambermaid is entirely overdressed,” said Drew. “Wayne? Jeff? Can you help the mademoiselle out of her uniform?”

Wayne and I tumbled from the bed, joining Deena on the floor. We quickly stripped her down to her silken panties and her fishnet stockings. Her bare breasts were small but delicious-looking. I sprawled beside her on the carpeted floor. One hand fondled her tits; the other reached back to grab her plush ass. My fingers skated across the slick fabric of her panties, grazed along her butt hole and inched toward her vagina.

“Jeff, I know that pussy’s tempting,” Drew chastened. “But let’s not forget why we’re here. Tonight’s about you guys testing the tensile strength of her tonsils. Sit on the bed, gentlemen. Show our little lady what she’s working with here.”

Wayne and I stood, dropped our drawers, sat on the edge of the bed and began tugging on our cocks. Everyone seemed to have forgotten about Finley, over by himself in the armchair. But now we noticed. The big guy was still sitting there, only now he was naked. Christ, he had a huge schlong! Ten inches would be my guess. It stretched up beyond his navel, leaving a dollop of pre-come to clot in his belly hair.

“Shit!” said Wayne. “I thought I was hung, but that thing makes mine look like a french fry.”

Finley came over and joined us on the edge of the bed. Seeing us all there with our jutting boners appeared to have disoriented Deena.

“All zat equipment makes me dizzy,” she said. “What have I got myself into? Zut alors!”

“I’m afraid it’s we that are getting into you,” I said.

She laughed. “Mais oui!”

She started with Wayne. Her mouth slobbered over the long underside of his circumcised prick before she started sucking in earnest. It was impressive how much she could take in her mouth and throat. Wayne groaned and grunted. He was way too loud — but nobody had told him the walls were thin or anything. He was just too turned on to give a shit.

Then my dick had its turn. Deena seemed especially fond of taunting my gaping piss slit. She let her lively little tongue tease it, summoning drops of pre-come.

“Yeah,” I said. “Dig for my load, Deena. It’s in there, waiting for you.” My words made her hotter. She tried to deep-throat me, but my prick was a bit longer than Wayne’s. Also, my flared cockhead became an obstacle at the back of her throat. Still, she did her best. It felt fucking amazing.

“His cock was such a behemoth that only a small part would fit in her mouth.”

Finally, she turned her attention to Finley. And there she stumbled. His cock was such a behemoth that only a small part would fit in her mouth. She changed strategy and began licking and kissing its length. She also lavished her attentions on his ball sac. She fondled his nuts as she tried once more — valiantly but unsuccessfully — to properly suck him.

For the next 15 minutes, Deena took turns on us, again and again. Drew, naked in the armchair, masturbated as he watched her go to town on us.

As the lust intensified, the suckees got off the bed, gathering close around the kneeling sucker. Our penises competed for their share of her attention. Finley’s whopper was leaking a lot of pre-jizz. It streamed down the side of her face.

“You guys look like you’re ready to blow,” Drew observed. None of us corrected him.

“Shoot your loads at my mouth, s’il vous plait,” Deena urged.

The three of us stroked faster. Deena was massaging her clit through her panties. Then a buzzing noise sounded. It was Drew, hard-on and all, coming over to pleasure Deena with a scary-big vibrator. She began gasping and yelping as the machine roared against her crotch.

While the vibrator buzzed like a chainsaw, we began shooting our wads, one after the other. Wayne, practically shouting, released a load on Deena’s lips and chin. It rained down onto her tits. I let my rigid pecker hover near her lips as I neared blast-off. I thrust forward so she could wrap her lips over my head. At that very moment I shot my load in her mouth, the vibrator brought her to a shuddering orgasm. Her movements, however, threw off Finley’s marksmanship. When he came, he overshot. His jizz arced up — some landing in her hair, the rest on the carpeted floor.

We three guys fell back on the bed. Then Drew grabbed Deena by the hips, tearing off her panties in order to fuck her doggie-style while the rest of us watched the show. Soon he gasped, groaned, pulled out, tore off his condom, and shot an enormous load across her back and buttocks. Drew may have had the smallest dick, but he handily won the trophy for “Most Copious Money Shot.” He thwacked his spent dick on her ass cheeks. The last drops flew into the lake of semen at the small of her back.

“Little Napoleon hasn’t met his Waterloo yet!” he joked. Then he grabbed a towel and wiped the man-slime from our intrepid French maid.

That marked the end of a hot evening. But this group has had two similar encounters since then.

And Deena has agreed to be my companion at a swinger party later his month.

Looks like I’m back in business!

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