Dave's Disastrous Mardi Gras

We got a couple beers downstairs and chatted with a few other party-goers. For the first, but not the last time that evening, I felt folks give my rump a squeeze when they walked by, checking me out.

The male dancers apparently were fair game for everyone. Later when I thought about it, it seemed to me that I had gotten a bit more attention than the others, maybe since I was an unknown outsider.

Once even, later in the evening, when talking to one of the other Sambassadors, a girl, I think Sherry was her name, felt free enough to begin fondling my penis, trying to see if she could make it stiff.

"You sharin' tonight?" she asked Danni Raye, with a searching glance.

"We'll see," said Danni Raye with a half-smile, and I wasn't sure what this response meant, but Danni Raye said later that she was just putting the girl off.

After downing our beers we then made our way back up to the upper floor hallway. We passed other rooms with mostly naked people in them.

We stopped in one doorway and watched a diminutive Cajun guy with a skinny but well-furred rump impaling a much larger woman. She was lying on her back, her big fleshy legs around the guy's hips, her hands on his haunches urging him on.

"Let's see this," Danni Raye said. "Roxanne is in Debbie Hurst's group, she is a loud one," she confided.

We went inside to get a closer view. Apparently this was all acceptable behavior, at least here, at least tonight.

We stood next to another couple sitting on a couch at the side of the room, as the little guy plowed Roxanne.

The sitting guy, tall with a slender build and dirty blond hair, gave me a silly grin, and a thumb's up. "Won't be long!" he said in an excited voice.

His girl, her shirt off and tits sloping attractively off to each side, had a hand on his tool, gently stroking. His prick was plenty hard, his cockhead poking free from his foreskin and pointing straight up. The tip looked damp and the shaft, all veined, gleamed in the room's indirect light.

"This is Annie" said Danni Raye, introducing us, "and John." John and I shook hands, but he quickly went back to checking out the bed action.

Sure enough, as Danni Raye had noted, Roxanne was not the quiet sort.

"Fuck me, you little runt! Harder!" She was pulling strongly on the guy's ass, trying to get him to hump her more forcefully.

He was going at a pretty good clip at this point, his pelvis pistoning into her. You could see her hips absorb the thrusts. Her breasts, which were squashed out to the side between their tightly coupled bodies, jiggled as he worked her over.

"Aaaarah," she let out a grunt, "Harder you little fuck, harder!"

His forehead was all sweaty, I had no way of calculating how long he had been at her, or what they had been doing beforehand. His longish dark hair hung down damp across his shoulders.

Then he too let out a yelp, and we saw his asscheeks clench tight and he frantically pulsed a good load of sperm up into the big wench. His ass kept pushing, albeit more slowly, until he was finally still. He gave her a kiss but she didn't look happy.

"I haven't come yet!" she bellowed. "Who's going to help out?"

She pushed him out and to the side, his cock flopping wetly, then cast an eye in our direction, looking at me first, then the other guy. John and I stared at each other, then he looked at my dangling prick, clearly in an unable-to-perform state. He turned his head towards his girl.

"Go ahead," Annie said. "Roxanne is in need. Just save something for me later."

He stood up, his prick damn stiff, his balls all drawn up. He made his way to the bed and Roxanne piloted him up to her face first. She felt his prick while he stood there, and ran her fingers under his balls. She had on a big smile, and took his heavy cockhead into her mouth.

Her big breasts were sprawled out on her chest, her credentials as a D-Cup Dixie girl not in doubt. Her eyes closed shut and she tongued him for a couple minutes, one hand rummaging his ballsack.

He reached over and felt her up with his right hand, you could see how slick his fingers were as they went up and down her notch. Her pelvis responded to his touch, and she quivered with pleasure.

"Ahh," she left off his prick. "That's more like it."

She wiggled her ass on the bed as John moved his hand and fingers over her. He put pressure on her mound with the heel of his hand, then flicked his finger up and down her notch, teasing her clitoris until her hips were squirming.

"Come on in," she finally urged with a randy smile. "Front door's open!"

Whatever he did with his hand proved to be good. He slid his stiff prick up her straight away, she was obviously pretty darn ready, and started thrusting rhythmically.

Roxanne very quickly showed signs of an approaching climax. She must have been pretty close to coming with the earlier guy on top of her, just not quite there. She held John's back tightly, and was kissing him madly, while her hips crunched forward to meet his thrusts.

Her legs straightened out, almost trembling now, and she began grunting.

"Yess!" she cried, and we were treated to the sight of her pleasure while John kept sliding inside her.

"Fuck, yesss," she exhaled, and her big hips quivered and shook. She tensed and released, tensed and released, her eyes closed, head turned to the side, her loose long dark disheveled hair moving about on the pillows.

She lay still there for a bit, while John was still inside her, although he had stopped moving. Danni Raye and I exchanged looks, we weren't sure whether John was going to continue poking her or not.

Finally Roxanne opened her eyes, shining.

"Thanks" she said, giving John a kiss, "just what I needed."

"You wanna turn?" she asked Annie. "Appreciate your sharing."

Annie's smile was welcome, you could tell she was just as glad her knight hadn't come inside the big wench.

Roxanne uncunted, stopping long enough to give John's tool a kiss at his prickhead, and moved to the side of the bed, making a gesture to Annie that looked like an invitation.

I halfway wanted to stay to see what was up next, but Danni Raye was restless and we made our way downstairs, for some more thirst relief. It looked like a fair number of folks were also taking a break, their first, or maybe second, rounds of amorous activity over for the moment.

We were sipping our beers and chatting with another couple, one of the other dancers from the Sambassadors, a tall black woman whom I had noticed during the parade as having a wonderful large and entrancing rump.

She had on a tight skirt which showed off her rear nicely. Her guy was tall, and they were asking me all kinds of questions about life up north, and whether there were jobs and what it was like to have snow and cold for months on end.

I had seen Jo Anne at the far end of the room, our paths hadn't crossed since early on. She was talking to a big tall guy with broad shoulders, sort of a meathead looking fellow, to tell the truth. Each of them had a beer bottle in hand. He had big lips and a wide mouth, and one of those heavy eyebrows that go clear across the forehead without a break.

Before we could disentangle from our talkative couple to cross the room and catch Jo Anne and her guy, they had made their way upstairs, Jo Anne leading her companion by her hand.

All of a sudden we all turned our heads to another corner of the ballroom, where a noisy ruckus had started. One of the other male dancers, a tall thin guy with a goofy smile, had been grabbed by a couple of other party-goers and a whoop had gone up.

A few others stepped forward and two big guys grabbed his feet, another couple his hands, and they were holding him horizontal off the ground like they were spreading a tablecloth.

He looked like some sort of corralled animal getting dragged home from the hunt. The guy, it was Ronnie Lee, was yelling to let go, but he had a half-smile on his face, so it didn't look overly alarming.

At this stage of the evening I don't think I was capable of being surprised by anything anymore, but I still didn't know what was up.

A couple of the women were hooting with delight and a cry went up.

"Upstairs! Take him to the big room!"

Danni Raye shot me a glance.

"This happens every year to one of the guy dancers. Glad it's Ronnie Lee and not you!"

I stared at her a bit uncomprehendingly, but she took my hand.

"C'mon up, let's see this, always fun."

The four guys hoisted Ronnie Lee by his arms and legs, while he protested loudly but half-heartedly, and hauled him up the stairs to one of the larger bedrooms. Most of the crowd followed, taking their drinks along.

The carriers spread him out in the middle of a large bed, each of them keeping one limb under control. We all clustered around, a few folks pulling up some chairs for an upfront view.

Debbie Hurst was the first to approach the guy. She had on a long dark skirt and a white buttoned blouse. She had a devilish expression on her face.

"Well, well, seems you got picked this year, Ronnie Lee!"

She sat down next to him on the bed, and they exchanged looks.

Debbie reached over and began to play with his prick, which was soft and relaxed. It wasn't clear whether he had taken any pleasure yet that evening. She waved it around; it was limp and flopped around like a loose garden hose in her hands.

"May take some work there girl!" somebody said.

"Nothin' but beer-piss gonna be coming out of that cock!"

A few folks laughed at this last comment.

Undeterred, Debbie Hurst began to frig the poor guy.

"We'll see about that," she said, and she kept playing with the guy's tool, looking him in the face the whole time.

She pulled on his shaft, she cupped his balls, she played his foreskin around, sliding it up and down over the guy's cockhead.

Somebody suggested that she take her shirt off.

It was mouthwatering the way she unfastened each button on her shirt, til her boobs sprang free, no bra underneath. She tossed her shirt off to the side, where somebody caught it, and then ran her boobs over the guy's prick.

You could see his cockhead poke out between them as she ran her valley up and down his shaft, all the time with an absolutely lascivious smile on her face, directed at him.

She sat back up and continued to play with his balls and stroke him. She was a bit older than most of the others here tonight, maybe late thirties. She had nice sloping tits, a good handful each, and I enjoyed how they jiggled around while she masturbated him, particularly when she was stroking him vigorously.

It took five or ten minutes, but the damn thing came to life and got stiff enough to bring a smile to her face. His balls were no longer hanging, but had drawn up in their sack. The tip of his cock's head, small and smooth, was pointing straight up his body, and you could see the veins on his shaft now that it was hard.

The guy had real dark hair and a clean shaven face, but the kind of face that always looked like it needed another pass with the razor, even if it had just been done, and he was craning his neck forward, watching his prick get handled.

"Well," she said, pulling his prick vertical up off his belly, then releasing it so it snapped back, making an audible sound as it hit his navel. "How 'bout that! We're good to go!"

Another woman stepped forward, on the other side of him, and took a turn, running her fingers, with long painted fingernails, along the guy's shaft and prickhead.

We all watched intently. The crowd urged her to remove her shirt too, and this would be the case for the rest of the guy's tormentors this night from here on out, everyone who had their hands on him had their tits out.

The finger-nailed girl, with thick dark hair, had small, sharp, pointed breasts that jiggled nicely as she worked. She played with him for about five minutes, stroking and fondling him, tickling his balls with her long nails, and then another girl took over. It was fascinating to me to see how different girls handled his penis.

For one reason or another, a lot of girls really don't know the best ways to masturbate a guy, maybe because they don't have a cock themselves and don't know how it feels. Maybe a lot of guys don't actually say enough about what works best too, but you would think more couples would get this down in their routine pretty well.

Of course, not all pricks are the same either, and what sends one guy off to the moon might not do the same for someone else. Tonight I saw quick, firm action from a couple girls, soft slow work from others, really quite a range.

It was quite arousing, actually. I saw some couples who were watching, including Jean Paul and Jessie, do their own fondling while the main event was in progress. Jessie's hands had been on Jean Paul's balls fairly early on, but she had moved one hand to his prick and was pulling on it delectably, and it had stiffened to a fine state. His arm was around her shoulders and he had a shit-eating grin on his face.

Another one of Debbie Hurst's D-Cup girls had taken her top off, she had nice hefty long tits with pointy ends, and had positioned herself over Ronnie Lee's head.

She dangled her tits down into his face, and then started swaying them back and forth so her nipples grazed his cheeks and nose and mouth. He looked mesmerized, almost cross-eyed. I have to say, if you were going to get held down and tortured, this was not a bad way to have it done.

One of the girls who had long blonde hair and a lovely chest, gave us an absolutely divine handjob show. She was one of the slow strokers, and she ran the fingers of each hand slowly and deliberately along his shaft, lightly pressing her fingertips under the guy's cockhead, until he was squirming his hips and begging for relief.

She had small soft breasts, and took unusual delight in her torment. I almost wanted to trade places with Ronnie Lee. A little drop of lubrication fluid had appeared at the top of Ronnie Lee's prick, and she ever so slowly smeared it around his engorged cockhead, making her smile big time.

Ronnie Lee's face was red. Debbie Hurst decided she would do the honors of finishing him off so she had the last girl step aside. Probably a half-dozen pair of hands had played their way up and down his bobbing cock. He was quite a sight, all spread out, his cock twitching from the attention.

This time though, Debbie Hurst pulled her skirt off, then her knickers, until she was clean naked. Unlike most of the other girls, who for obvious reasons trimmed themselves pretty thoroughly so they looked clean with their dancing thongs on, Debbie Hurst had a nice full triangle of curly red groin hair. It was impressive, old school.

She walked over and up onto the bed, standing with feet astride his chest, looking down at him like she was some sort of eagle ready to swoop down on its prey. I won't forget her triumphant expression, the gleam in her eyes.

Debbie Hurst then squatted over his face, and ran her cunt up and down, over his nose and mouth. He took the hint and started licking her notch, and I could see his prick twitch with the excitement.

She let him tongue her a bit, and then made her way down the bed, turned around and sat her ass down on his prick, turning her head over her shoulder to keep eye-contact with him. She weaseled her ass back and forth over his prickshaft, his cockhead just visible outside her asscheeks. She moved up and down, and he started moaning and trying to buck his hips into her. It looked real fine.

Someone came forward with a tube of lubricant. I noted later that each room had a bowl with condoms and lube on a table near the doorway, but to tell the truth, I didn't see a whole lot of condoms being used that night.

Debbie Hurst settled in between Ronnie Lee's spread legs and put a thin line of lubricant all along his prickshaft, and then worked it in with her fingers, getting his balls all slicked as well.

All oiled up, his prickshaft gleamed. You could see his veins popping out, and his prick would now twitch by itself, whether Debbie Hurst was handling it or not.

She worked him slow, grabbing his balls firmly with one hand, while very slowly sliding her other hand up and down his shaft, squeezing his cockhead.

Ronnie Lee's eyes closed, and his hips were squirming about, and you could tell he was pulling harder on his legs and arms, since the holders had to work more to keep him in place.

Debbie Hurst was relentless. She went up and down, playing his cockhead something lovely, and I could feel my own cock tighten. Jean Paul's cock was straight out now, Jessie's hand holding him in a deathgrip.

All eyes were on Ronnie Lee's cock, and he was having a hard time of it. Debbie Hurst must have felt some change in his prick because she began to speed up the tempo of her hands over his shaft. His cockhead had swollen larger, and his shaft was steel stiff.

All of a sudden his hips tensed and with a strangled groan he sent the first of a half dozen spurts of semen up on his chest. The first wad hit his sternum, the next went past his nipples, a long sticky trail of sperm following, and each spurt thereafter was a little less, until he had emptied out a good load of sperm onto his torso.

His chest was heaving, he was breathing hard, and Debbie Hurst continued to milk him down to the last drop, which clung to the tip of his prick until she smeared it along his cockhead, a huge satisfied smile on her face.

I thought they would let him go at this point, but Debbie Hurst wasn't done yet. She straddled his torso and ran her cunt up and down his body, mopping up his sperm until you could see her groin hair get wet and matted.

She then moved on all fours up over him, until her cunt was over his face, and she smashed her notch down onto his mouth. She ground her cunt up and down over him, you could see him trying his best to tongue her, and at one point I wondered if she was going to suffocate him the way she was pushing her groin onto his face.

But she must have been pretty excited herself, because she climaxed in just a few minutes, crunching her cunt into his face, her own face red now, and we could see her dangling breasts shake, her hips quivering, her asscheeks, with white dimpled flesh but strong looking, pushing and clenching while she took her pleasure.

Finally she pulled off and Ronnie Lee's holders loosened their grasp and he was free. Everyone began to clap. I saw many eyes gleaming, and girls were looking at their guys' pricks, most of them erect with excitement.

Danni Raye and I followed Jean Paul and Jessie out into the hallway and over to a smaller bedroom. They looked ready to settle down for some serious lovemaking.

Next, The Bacchanal Rages On