Kady Does It All: Summer Daze

I think about it. "You'll know when we get there," I tell her finally. It's easy to be cavalier about the idea when I think I have a safety net in Angela. She's withdrawn that now, and it makes me a little more cautious. Neil isn't the only person to call me reckless, and I don't argue, because it's true. I am. I just think it's better than the alternatives. I do have an idea, though. "Can you at least carry a bag for me, if I change my mind?"

"Sure," she says. "You'd need it to get home anyway. I can do that for you."

Wrapped in a towel and dry enough that I won't drip over the hardwood floors, I lead her to my bedroom. "Good," I tell her. "Let's get ready to go."

It's about an hour later that Jamie Parks is giving me a hand up onto his parent's boat, a trim little sailboat that can carry a good half dozen people comfortably. So...not so little, I guess. Some of the others have gone out in speedboats, and a couple other boats like Jamie's are already anchored off the island's beach. "Nice dress," he compliments me.

"Pretty sure it'll be a hit," I say with a smile as my feet touch the deck. The dress in question is white, cotton, soft and breathable, which is good because even after sunset, late summer in Mississippi is hot: eighty-plus degrees and thickly humid, the air feeling heavy and thick and still. Angela follows me up into the boat, and Jamie casts off.

He looks like a proper pirate, Jamie Parks -- tall and broad with big hands and long limbs, ropy with muscle and bearing a strong Mediterranean cast to him: olive skin, dark eyes, a prominent nose, and curly, wet looking black hair that falls to his collar. He's a few years older than we are, but he's a veteran slacker. He handles the boat easily and confidently, and the trip is brief, an hour or so. But ust before we reach the anchor point, I tell him what I intend.

His dark eyes go wide as he scans me up and down, and then barks a laugh. He reaches out and tugs a lock of coppery hair. "You crazy," he tells me affectionately. "Kiss your captain for luck?" he adds hopefully, and it's my turn to laugh. The kiss I give him isn't a sisterly peck on the cheek or a brief press, either. I go to him laughing, wrap my arms around his neck, and proceed to spin his world on its axis. Angela's laughing behind us.

Jamie's eyes are a little glassy when I finally let him go, and he stumbles a bit before finding his balance, fanning himself with one hand and grinning like an idiot. "Get off my boat," he tells me cheerily, "before I decide not to let you go."

Giggling, I slip over the rail into the water.

It's a short swim to the island's beach, where the fire is already roaring. Excellent. The light falls on me as I emerge from the water, step by step, walking slowly out of the surf. We all know what happens to white cotton jersey when you get it wet.

And I wore nothing underneath.

The thin cloth clung to me, limning every curve, the fabric turning transparent in the firelight, not concealing but emphasizing my full, round breasts, their taut, pebbled nipples, and further my flat, toned stomach, my firm thighs, the space between the only part of me actually hidden. Needless to say, I have everyone's undivided attention in short order.

To paraphrase a famous catchphrase, I am not prepared. The effect of fifty-odd pairs of eyes on me, some in faces I knew, some strangers to me, is electric. I mean, you hear, or see, that phrase used, a lot, but what I felt right then -- I felt like every nerve came alive, like I should hum with the energy coursing through me, like I want to lift off my toes and be lifted into the air. My breath shortens and heat pools between my thighs even as goosebumps crawl across my flesh. I've come before without any physical contact at all, simply from mental stimulation; Neil calls them "psychic" orgasms. It doesn't happen often, and it's usually not very intense, but it's unmistakable and undeniable. It didn't happen this time, but I was right there on the edge, just from the gazes on me.

I should be clear here. They aren't just looking at me. Their stares are like physical caresses; I can almost feel the weight of their gaze on my skin. Their eyes are hungry, wanting. I told Neil I wasn't dominant, that power games didn't interest me, and I hadn't lied, but feeling that power was something else entirely. I wasn't demanding anything of these people. I wasn't commanding them or giving them orders, I wasn't out to prove my power over them. Rather, I took in the power they gave to me, passed to me by the desire in their eyes. I shudder, shivering, and it certainly isn't from cold. Even the water feels warm.

I suddenly realize exactly how much trouble I might be in. I know how I get in this state. When my arousal reaches a certain level, I kind of lose all sense of control. Neil's commented on it, and so has my mom. When I reach that point, I stop caring, so long as it feels good and everyone's into it. Fifty people here, at least half college-aged boys, and some of the women had hunger in their eyes too. I have to deliberately force myself not to think about just how I could get in trouble, because if I let this train of thought go too far, I'll come right where I'm standing. I'm pretty damn close as it is.

Angela's at my side, her hand at my elbow, and I blink, realizing I'm standing there and have been for a couple minutes now. "You okay, Kady?" she asks, in a low tone, so only I can hear.

My throat is dry, and I swallow, shivering again. "I think," I say, and it comes out as a croak. I take a breath, clear my throat, and try again. "I think if the wind blows up my skirt I might come right where I'm standing."

"Jesus," she says softly. Then, after a second, she asks, "Would it help if you did?"

I stare at her, blankly.

"Take the edge off," she clarifies, and looks a bit uncomfortable. "Give you some of your brain back. Right now your eyes look a little wild, girl."

I shudder and nod. "What did you --"

I plan to ask her what she had in mind, when she pulls my head down and meets my lips with hers. It was unexpected -- especially from Angela -- and then she murmurs against my lips. "A little show for the boys," she says, and that's all it takes.

My knees buckle, but she supports me, easily, a sturdy anchor of warm best friend. I moan into her lips, my hands on her shoulders, clamping down in a grip that makes her grunt, as my release washes over me in a wave of dizzying pleasure. There are awed whispers from the crowd, and one clearly enunciated, "Holy. Fuck."

I put my forehead against Angela's, still shuddering from aftershocks. God. Well. Exhibitionism, verified fetish, I guess. I wondered what Neil would make of this. "Thank you," I whisper breathily to her. Then, just to make a point, I kiss her, soft and sweet, letting it linger, just tracing my tongue over her lips, which draws another awed profanity from our audience, and my eyes flutter open to bore into hers, intensely. "You realize you just made me want you more, right?" I tell her.

"We'll talk later," she promises. "Can you stand on your own?"

I do so, parting from her, and stand up, facing the crowd again, which almost makes my knees go all rubbery for a second time. I draw a deep breath, and seize control of my wayward body, and hold my head up proudly, looking over the crowd. I am on display, and they are all worshipping the sight of me. I'm only shocked that more girls don't get off on this.

"I thought this was a party!" I say loudly. "Music, dancing, drinking, any of this sound familiar?"

Crickets. I swear to God, I hear crickets. Then, from the back, "Just a sec, honey, we need to roll our tongues up off our shoes so we don't trip."

The laughter that brings breaks the mood, and the crowd breaks up. The fire by this point is a beacon, huge and towering and blazing hot, quickly drying my dress. Maybe I'll just take it off later.

The party is a good one, as things go; a couple of the college boys actually have portable DJ setups of some kind in the beds of their pickup trucks, and they are blasting the kind of rowdy hiphop you hear in clubs all over the place. The music isn't to my taste, but the beat is deep and primal, and the dancing is the close grind that makes a girl feel appreciated. I've got a boy on either side of me, pressed between their warm bodies, and all they are wearing is swim trunks. I'm greedily running my hands over the shoulders and chest of the boy in front of me while grinding my ass along the hard bulge in the shorts of the boy behind, while his hands roam over the soft fabric of my dress and slip under the hem occasionally, though not very far; I think he wants to tease more than anything else.

I don't want him to tease. Every touch sets my nerves afire; my skirt ends about midthigh, and the two boys's hands trade so often that the touches on my smooth legs are constant. My hands curl around the boy in front of me, a slim young Asian man with one of those faces that is as pretty as a girl's, sliding down his back and over his trunks, small hands clutching his ass and pulling him into me. God, I want him. Him and the dark, wiry one behind me, with skin so dark it almost really was black, with big hands and a smell like the heart of the earth. I want them both. I know it. And I will have them both. I don't think I could fight it if I wanted to, and I don't want to.

I will have them.

I tip my head back onto the dark man's shoulder -- his name is Mike, I think -- and whisper, pulling the Asian's face down so he can hear. "Names. I'm Kady. Tell me your names."

"Mark," the black one says. I'd been close.

"Ken," says the other.

"Mark. Ken." I'm having trouble keeping my breath steady. "Fuck. Make me a deal. You can have me. Here. Now. Both of you. I want it. And...jesus. You keep me to yourselves. Keep everyone off me. Keep me off of...them." I close my eyes. There. It's out. I would do it. Fuck anyone who asked, at this point.

Mike kisses my neck, and I groan. "We'll keep watch over you, Kady. You don't need to --"

My groan turns into a growl. The hand that had come up to caress his hair grips suddenly, tightly, and I feel his breath catch. "I WANT IT," I almost snarl. I am so damn horny right now. The beast is well and truly off its chain. I slip one hand behind me, into Mike's trunks, and find his cock, stroking it in my soft hand. It's hard and hot and feels enormous. He groans.

Ken's eyes are wide, and my other hand slides up, cupping the back of his neck, and pulling his head down, kissing him, my tongue invading his mouth, tasting him. I feel Mike's hands lifting the short skirt of my dress.

"Quick or long and slow," Mike asks.

"Quick," I gasp. "Fuck, quick. Hard." My thighs are slick, wet; I have been dripping since I hit the beach. A state of arousal held for that long does terrible things to your mind. At least, it does terrible things to mine. I've never done double penetration, and here I am contemplating it -- craving it -- on an exclusive beach with two men I've known for less than a quarter of an hour. I'm not the only one feeling adventurous tonight -- couples have already split off, found portions of shadows, and not all the groupings are by twos --- but I'm still in the middle of the dance floor.

Carefully, I spit on my hand, reaching to Mike's cock behind me, which I've pulled out of his trunks. I wet it thoroughly, and whisper to him, "Finger my ass. Make it nice and wet. That's where you're going."

To Ken, I lean forward, kiss him deep and soft, and groan into his mouth as Mike follows instructions. His finger is long, dextrous, spreading wetness over my ass. It feels incredible. "Once he's....ahhh.....in my ass....you can have my pussy. I want both of you to fill me up. God."

Deep in my mind is a voice telling me that even by my standards, this is insane. I don't care. I spread my legs a little wider and bend slightly forward, leaning on Ken, letting him support me, hands on his shoulders as his hands knead my breasts, pinching and twisting the nipples. Mike adds another finger, and I moan, not bothering to try and hide what's going on -- I'm about to get double fucked in the middle of a dance floor -- well, a dance party on a beach -- and I want people to watch. I am literally panting with arousal by this point, and I can feel another of those purely mental orgasms coming....if another kind doesn't overtake it first.

Mike removes his fingers, and I bow my head, knowing what's coming. There are whispers around me, shocked profanities, a few whistles and cheers. God this is so hot. When the blunt head of Mike's cock touches my anus, I gasp; as he presses in, I hiss. Not enough lube. It burns; it hurts as it never has before. Mike curses and pulls his cock out, then begins fingering my pussy, coating his hand, almost scooping my juices out; the sensation makes me whimer and cling to Ken as my legs start to shake. These collected juices he rubs into my ass, and finally, he slips his cock into my pussy, and it goes in with almost no resistance, I am so wet and open, but I squeeze him as soon as I feel him within me, and he groans. When he pulls out, I want to cry, but he is soon knocking on my backdoor again, and this time, he pushes in. God, he fills me up, slow and careful and delicious; there is pain, but less, and my arousal knocks it flat, drowns it out. Mike is breathing in slow, measured pants as he plumbs my forbidden depths, and I am mewling, almost blind with need and heat and lust and want.

Finally, he is all the way in, and he loops an arm around my middle and raises me up. Ken steps forward, and with a little maneuvering, I am soon impaled on both of their cocks, hung between the two men who are supporting me. I have never been so full. I will miss this feeling, when it ends. Mike is groaning behind me, and Ken begins to move, and I gasp; a long slow moan feels like it's squeezed out of me as every muscle south of my sternum clenches like a monstrous fist. It is raw pleasure, so intense I have lost the ability to think, to even move, and I cling to Ken as the two men both begin to move. My mewling soon transmutes to screams as my orgasm, more powerful than any I'd yet experienced, swells in me. I open my eyes and look over Ken's shoulder, and see Angela; she is gaping at me, her eyes wide and shocked, her color high -- and her shorts are pushed down, her hand shoved into her panties, and the idea that she is coming too hits me and takes me over the edge.

I've compared my climaxes to storms, to waves, to earthquakes; this one feels like Leviathan rising from its depths, Cthulhu wakening from deep R'lyeh, massive and unseen and maddening in its power, and when it breaks, I squeeze Ken tight enough to make him cry out, both with my arms and my cunt. Mike roars behind me and unloads in my ass, the hot spray and pulsing of his cock kicking everything up another notch, and I bite Ken's shoulder, hard enough that I taste blood, lost to the feelings. I howl into his flesh, and Ken gasps and comes, filling my pussy, and my head falls backward, and everything goes gray as the world slips sideways and away from me.

I wake up to darkness. I can hear music still and the sound of the fire, and I feel a cool cloth on my brow, and a warm hand in mine. Somehow, I know the hand is a woman's, and I squeeze it before opening my eyes and looking into the warm brown eyes of Angela Mason, hovering worriedly over me.

"You okay?" she asks softly.

I hurt. My ass feels raw. My muscles are sore, every single one of them. My head aches. And every nerve is still singing from the orgasm that mugged me of my consciousness. My throat is raw too, and I cough before I can speak.

"I feel AWESOME," I croak, and Angela gives a little laugh. "Mike and Ken?"

"You frightened them, I think," she says softly. "They're a little ways off. I told them you'd be okay, but they wanted to see for themselves. They have water, if you want it."

"Please," I say, and Angela helps me drink. I don't think I want to try lifting my arms yet.

"Are you really okay?" she asks me, concern written all over her face. I do raise one arm then, laying a hand on her cheek and smiling at her.

"I will be," I say quietly. "I hurt a little, but it's nothing I didn't expect going in. The passing out is new, though I've been close a couple times. I think I got off on the idea of an audience as much as getting it from both ends at once. God, that was intense." I smile at her. "Did you enjoy watching? I saw you."

Angela blinks, then looks away, but I turn her face back to me. "It was beautiful, Angela. You made it so much more....wow. Thank you." I sigh and close my eyes. "First time, double penetrated, strangers, in public. How many fetishes is that?"

"And apparently, bareback," Angela notes with disapproval, skating past her own voyeurism. "That ain't safe, Kady."

I wave her off. "I'll be fine. Thank you for caring, Ange, but I won't get pregnant. Trust me. It literally can't happen."

Her eyebrows draw together. "What?"

I sigh heavily. "Help me sit up," I tell her, and she does, leaning against her shoulder as I remember how to use my damn arms so I can drink from the bottle of water myself. I'm slowly regaining myself, one bit at a time. "I don't want to talk about it. But it's....yeah. I can't get pregnant."

"There's still all kinds of shit wandering around out there," Ang protests.

I close my eyes. "Noted. Can we get past it now."

Angela blows out a deep breath, running one brown hand through her chin-length jet hair. "Okay, Kady. Okay. You ready to go home?"

"No," I tell her honestly, "but I think it's best. Parks still out on his boat?"

"Waiting. He doesn't like crowds."

I nod slowly. "Help me stand up, and call those two over."

Getting to my feet is a difficult challenge, as my legs don't seem to want to work right and my head is still buzzy and strange, but we manage it, and once there, I seem to be able to stay there more or less under my own power. Angela fetches Mike and Ken, and they come to me with worried expressions on their faces.

I open my arms to them. "Come here, boys."

They come to me, and I embrace them both, and kiss them sweetly. "Thank you," I tell them. "I'm sorry if I scared you. I, uh, might have jumped in deeper waters than I was ready for."

"Thank you," Mike says humbly. "I....it's a thing I'm not likely to forget any time soon."

"Damn straight," Ken echoes, then kisses my cheek. "I'm glad you're okay. We were kind of worried."

"Be proud," I tell them both. "You've got great cocks. I'm going home."

So I leave the party early, with Mike and Ken watching as Angela helps me to the boat, the little rower that takes us to shore when Jamie's parked offshore, and then helps me into the ship. I'm uncharacteristically clumsy, and fall onto Jamie as he assists me in.

"Whoa there," he says kindly. "Mind the step. Time to go home?" he asks.

"Home," I agree. I give Angela a look and a smile, and she rolls her eyes.

"All you. Nympho," she tells me, and I turn my attention back to Jamie.

"You deserve a reward," I tell him sweetly.

"Ah," he scoffs, "you don't need to --" He shuts up as I kiss him, long and slow. I'm too sore for most things, but there is still one thing I can do for the man who brought us out here and is taking us back, with no consideration for fuel. I go to my knees and look up at him, green eyes curtained by a fall of red hair.

"No," I agree. "But I want to. Will you let me?"

He strokes my hair, and for a minute, I think he will tell me no. He's a good man, Jamie Parks, a little too good, I guess. But then he mutters, "God forgive me," and unsnaps his jeans, unzipping them with one hand, his other hand still in my hair, and pulls free his cock. It's not particularly long or thick, but it's sweet as I take it in my mouth, warm and firm, and I take my time, sucking softly, my head moving up and down on his shaft, keeping my eyes closed to focus on the sensation of his warm rod sliding over my tongue, filling my mouth, stretching my lips and jaw. I take him deeper, and feel the head of him slide into my throat, and he gasps at the sensation, then groans as I swallow around his length. I open my eyes, look up at him, and smile around his cock.