You are standing behind Lara, out on the back porch. The back yard is overgrown with tall grass and weeds: the physicists and future Nobel laureates who live at Schrödinger’s Cat House have more important things to do than mow the lawn. Things like modifying Axis and Allis for invaders from Mars and time travel rules.
It is sort of chilly out here. It takes a second for your eyes to adjust, for you to see what Lara is pointing at.
Professor Sullivan is out back, leaning against the trunk of a big old maple tree. His shirt and jacket are still on, but his trousers are around his ankles. Mike Gauss, the football jock, is kneeling in front of him, stark naked, pale in the dim starlight.
As you watch, Mike lavishes his tongue up and down Professor Sullivan’s erection, cupping his balls, and finally opening his mouth wide and swallowing his cock. Sullivan’s hands are on Mike’s head, gripping his short brown curls, forcing his head all the way down into the professor’s crotch. All the way over where you are, on the porch, the sighs and slurps and gurgles are fully audible.
“That is so hot!” you whisper in Lara’s ear, and she nods emphatic agreement. She is standing so close to you that you can feel her body heat. Your fingers meet and intertwine. You find yourself suddenly switched fully on, turned up to eleven. You wonder just what exactly Lara has got going on underneath those baggy blue jeans and that oversized t-shirt with the caption “Mmmm… Pi”
Mike’s head is bobbing up and down like an animated GIF. Lara squeezes your hand. Her wide hips press up against your own, and you become intensely aware of the beating of your heart. You can feel your pulse in your clitoris, and you squeeze your thighs, mashing your juicy labia together, further exciting your horny clit.
Suddenly Professor Sullivan pulls his cock out of Mike’s mouth. He has a long and skinny penis; Mike’s equipment looks to be smaller but more aesthetic. Sullivan starts slapping Mike across the face with his wet dick; back and forth, back and forth.
“I wonder what his locker room buddies would say if they could see him now!” you muse out loud. The hot moistness between your legs is quickly becoming intolerable, and the fact that Lara Cunningham is pressed up against you is not helping matters.
“I wouldn’t mind watching him and his locker room buddies going at it” Lara says. Her hand has somehow slipped up inside your skirt and is softly stroking your bum underneath your green-and-red striped panties. It feels nice, and you press yourself harder against her. “I bet they get into all kinds of antics in there they don’t tell us about…”
Out under the big maple, there is some argument going on. Professor Sullivan doesn’t want to; Mike insists. Finally Mike wins out, and Sullivan digs a condom out of his jacket pocket, tears open the package, and rolls the latex sleeve down his long, skinny dick.
You raise your arms over your head, and Lara, on cue, lifts your grey cami up and off, tossing it aside. The night air is cool and makes your already sensitive nipples stand up like high beams. She kisses you, hard and aggressive, like a boy would kiss, only with softer lips.
Now the professor is down on his knees, licking Mike from behind, stroking his thick cock. You watch enviously, but distractedly, because Lara is in the process of removing your skirt and panties. It feels wild to be naked like this, under the stars, as Lara touches and kisses you up and down your body.
Professor Sullivan gets up, looking faintly ridiculous naked from the waist down, still wearing his ugly brown suit jacket, and slides his condom-sheathed cock between Mike’s taut butt cheeks. You get down on your knees at Lara’s direction. You can smell her excitement through her jeans, feel the heat of her pussy near your face.
There is a loud moan as Sullivan penetrates Mike’s ass. Both guys are crooning, groaning, grunting. They’d better keep it quiet, you think, if they don’t want to wake up the whole neighborhood with their fucking.
You are fingering your own pussy now. Your boobs are hanging down, swaying with every motion. You are shockingly wet between your legs, your thighs are sticky with your own juice.
Professor Sullivan is pounding Mike from behind. You idly wonder what that long, skinny dick would feel like in your own ass. Mike seems to be taking it admirably well, back arched like a cat, humping back against the professor.
“I think Mike’s going to get an ‘A’ this semester,” Lara whispers in your ear. Mike may be a jock, but he is no meathead; you are pretty sure he is quite capable of earning an ‘A’ without taking it up the butt from the professor. But you don’t say anything, because Lara has begun tracing her fingers up and down your slippery, excited pussy, and the feeling is exquisite.
When her wandering fingertip finds your anus, you jump. She doesn’t ask permission, but permission is freely given. Her burrowing finger feels strange and erotic back there, invading you from behind.
You are rubbing your own clit right now, riding a wave of pleasure. Lara’s tongue finds your anus, licking, darting inside and all around. You don’t know if you’ve ever been this wet before in your entire life. Her finger (or is it fingers now?) returns to your hyper-excited asshole, plunging inside, aggressively entering and stretching you. The feeling is out of this world.
How many fingers has she got going on in there now? Lara is finger-fucking your asshole hard and deep, and you can just barely stand it; the feeling is weird and uncomfortable and just this side of painful, and it is driving you hard onto a massive orgasm.
You are rubbing your clit in time with her fingers sodomizing your tender asshole, you can hear her panting and grunting with the effort. Your poor pummeled anus feels like a lotus blossom, the center of the universe. Your face is pressed hard into the wide wood slats of the porch. Your orgasm goes off like a hydrogen bomb, wracking your body, curling your toes, making you cry out with the pure intensity of the pleasure. Lara fucks your ass throughout, only stopping when you collapse, a sweaty, flushed, quivering mass of flesh on the back porch floor.
She grins at you like a big, self-satisfied cat. Out back, Mike and Professor Sullivan have gotten off and are cuddling gently under the tree.
“May I do you now?” you ask shakily.
“Some other time Babe,” Lara says, “I’ve got a paper to write.”
She leaves you alone, and you get hurriedly dressed, retrieving your scattered clothes from across the porch before Mike and the Professor come back inside. Your anus is tender and buzzing, your pussy is sopping wet, and there is a big goofy smile on your face that just won’t go away.