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While a frisson of sexual excitement and ripples of heightened pleasure slowly dissolved and I shivered from a chilly breeze, raucous cheers from a stage somewhere below us signaled our show’s warm-up had begun. I couldn’t get my head around the fact four gymnasts who had just fucked me senseless were already downstairs, ready to perform while I was a sticky, well fucked, emotionally charged mess.
When Silas hauled me to my feet, semen dribbled out of my well fucked pussy and down both thighs. The term boyfriend felt like an appropriate label for the older man who had fucked me twice in two days and cared for me on every step of that sexual journey. Equally, that loving relationship moniker belonged to my long-term boyfriend, Douglas, who, as I glanced over, only a few yards away, majestically fucked Hermione while she stared at me, smiling lovingly.
Hermione lay on a table with Douglas standing at its end. Both her ass cheeks were firmly cupped in my boyfriend’s hands while he hauled her on and off his cock, squelching from the copious semen that dribbled out of her fuck hole, along his shaft, down his balls, and onto the carpet.
Silas handed me a few moist wipes, pointing at my sticky thighs, and I was grateful for a chance to clean my drenched pussy and legs properly, tossing cum soaked tissues into a waste basket while giggling. When my lover offered me fresh cotton brief panties in one hand and my worn, damp thong in the other, I opted for common sense, slipping into the sensible underwear, adding a liner to the gusset before tucking my thong into a clutch bag.
“You came prepared, I see, Silas.”
“It’s just a normal night at the circus, sweetheart. Come, let me help you back into your dress.”
“Thank you.”