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From: Andrew Roller <roller666@earthlink.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} NND 4 of 4 A Virgins Last Hours
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                                        Andrew Roller Presents
                                   NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                       in 
                                        A Virgin's Last Hours

                                              Chapter Four

         You would not have guessed, from the welcome at the door, what
the party inside Wesley's apartment was like.  The building itself was
sedately old, not flashy or new like Trump Plaza or like the World Trade
Center towers had been.  Up a creaky elevator, wrapped in a cage of
barred steel, like something that might lead to a stockbroker's office,
went Sylvie and Alessandra.  It was operated by a gentlemanly old
fellow, dressed in a dapper cap and suit.
         "Lots of nice folk coming in tonight," the man mused, looking
speculatively at Alessandra.  
         "Yes," Alessandra answered.  Sylvie giggled a little, caught it
in her hand.  If only this old man knew she was wearing nothing but
black underwear under her gorgeous fur coat!
         "Here you are," the old man chimed out.  "Floor twenty-two." 
Alessandra thanked the old man and ushered her niece out of the elevator
ahead of her, the bars grinding back to let them out.  The hallway was
muted.  Lamps in the shape of gaslights lit the halls.  Following the
path lit by the lights the two women went to a door.  "221," the door
read, in gold letters mounted on an iron plaque next to the door. 
Alessandra knocked.  A woman answered.  Alessandra showed the woman her
invitation that she'd received in the mail.
         "Oh.  Do come in," the woman answered.  She was a redhead,
perhaps 25, wearing opera length gloves like Alessandra and Sylvie that
were purple, not black.  She wore a shimmering purple gown, looking very
formal.  Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, decorated with
jewels.  Alessandra didn't know if the jewels were fake or real, they
sparkled so brightly.
         "I brought my niece," Alessandra said to the woman.  The
redhead looked at Sylvie.  The girl gulped.  For a moment the woman
looked at her face, but then at her breasts as well, and the rest of her
body.
         "I suppose she's old enough," the redhead said.  She smiled and
extended a gloved hand, took Sylvie's smaller gloved hand in her own. 
"My name's Rebecca," the redhead said.  "May I please have your coat?" 
Sylvie turned.  She blushed a little as the woman reached at her coat
from behind.  A moment later it was off her shoulders, and there, in a
small anteroom, the noise of the party in a room beyond, the door to the
hallway now closed, Sylvie was revealed in her black underwear.  "My,
how nice you look," Rebecca said.  She smiled at Alessandra.  "And so
well prepared," she added.  She hung Sylvie's coat in a closet as
self-assuredly as if she'd revealed Sylvie to be in a gown as formal and
pretty as her own.  Then she asked for Alessandra's coat, and the woman
presented her back, as was expected, so that Rebecca could relieve her
of it.  The redhead did; Sylvie giggled a bit as she saw her aunt
stripped with her coat's removal to underwear as black and sexy as her
own.  Alessandra's coat was hung.  A woman wandered around the corner
from the party, saw the two in their underwear, and smiled.  She too
wore a gown, of blazing red.  "This is my assistant," Rebecca said to
Alessandra.  "Don't blush.  She helps me with the door."  Alessandra was
a little red-faced now; Sylvie moreso.  Were others at this party
dressed as they were, or were they the only ones? Sylvie found herself
wondering.  From a small deal table, made of cherry wood polished to
perfection, Rebecca took, out of an ice bucket that sat on top of the
table, a can of Redi Wip.  She told Sylvie to turn a little and yanked,
quite suddenly and without permission, the back of Sylvie's panties
down.
         "Oh!" Sylvie cried.  Alessandra reached out and grasped one of
the girl's flailing hands.  Sylvie craned her neck, looking behind
herself, as Rebecca aimed the can.  With a sudden WHOOSH the whipped
cream sprayed forth.  Rebecca, who was holding down the back of Sylvie's
panties, aimed the cream inbetween Sylvie's slender legs.  "YEEEEK!"
Sylvie cried.  She arched up on her tip-toes as the icy cream shot along
and up within her cunny lips.  Then, still aiming carefully, Rebecca
raised the can.  She traced a line up the back of Sylvie's bottom, along
her crack, getting cream inbetween her tight-pressed cheeks but mostly
on the outer curves of her ass where her two bottom cheeks joined.  When
Rebecca stepped away she left Sylvie's panties as they were.  The
13-year-old immediately reached back to repair them, no doubt wishing
too to wipe the icy cream away, but Rebecca snapped,
         "Don't touch them!"  Sylvie gaped, still looking at the woman
over her slender lightly tanned shoulder.  "You will wear them just as
they are," Rebecca said.  "You have a lovely young ass and it is modest
enough with the cream covering your crack.  Now turn around.  Let me see
the front of you."  Sylvie balked.  She looked imploringly at her aunt
but Alessandra's eyes answered with the question she'd put to Sylvie so
many times already:  "Wouldn't you rather have a babysitter?"  Sylvie
turned around and presented her soft belly, indrawn now with fright, and
her bra-covered bosoms and little black panties to the redheaded woman. 
Rebecca reached for the front of Sylvie's panties and pulled them open. 
As Sylvie watched, astonished, the woman sprayed whipped cream into the
pouch made by Sylvie's pulled-out panties.
         "YOOOOOCH!" Sylvie couldn't help crying, as the cold cream shot
against her pubic hair and whooshed down into her cunt from in front,
covering her little pee hole amidst the hairs of her pubis.  Rebecca let
go of Sylvie's panties when her panty-pouch was full.  It snapped
against the girl, splashing a bit of cream upward onto her belly.
         "You may keep your mount covered, but not your bottom," Rebecca
said, indicating how Sylvie was to wear her panties.  Then the woman
reached up and yanked down the right cup of Sylvie's bra.  The girl
tried to protest.  But she bit her lip at the last minute, and let out
another incoherent howl as the cream was sprayed against her fulsome
breast.  Rebecca went straight for Sylvie's little red nipple.  When it
was covered she left Sylvie's bra with the right cup tucked under her
breast, lifting, quite lewdly, her right tit up and out.  Then her hand
went to Sylvie's other breast.  The left cup was pulled down, exposing
the cone-like flesh of her second fat little tit.  Again Sylvie bit her
lip as Rebecca aimed, then yelled as the cold cream slammed against her
warm body, against her taut little nipple!  The second bra cup was left
as the first, down under Sylvie's breast so that, though her tits were
naked, they were somewhat modest owing to the placement of the cream.
         "Don't touch your bra," Rebecca said to Sylvie.  "Except to
take it off."  She turned to Alessandra.  Sylvie was left standing
abjectly, the woman in the red dress looking at her with mothering eyes,
as Alessandra watched her cups pulled down and her tits sprayed one by
one, by Rebecca.  Then the redhead went for Alessandra's pubis, and
finally had her turn around and shot cream up along her bottom's crack. 
Then she went to the deal table again, replaced the Redi Wip in the ice
bucket, and opened a drawer.  From it she pulled a ball gag.  Alessandra
balked as she turned and brought it to the young woman.  "Turn around,"
Rebecca said.  Alessandra did, but her lips mouthed--
         "I don't think--" in a soft voice.  She looked anxiously at
Sylvie.  The ball gag, which was made of red rubber, was slung around
Alessandra's neck.  As it lay against the pearl choker she wore,
Rebecca, ever efficient and quick, tied the ball gag at the back of
Alessandra's neck.  Then, to Alessandra's surprise, she left it that
way.  "You will want it later, when your behind is to be challenged by
the whip," Rebecca smiled, as casually as if she were offering a
teaspoon to a woman uncertain whether to take sugar with her drink. 
Then she went to the table again.  The drawer was still open.  She
fished from it a second ball gag.  "This will protect your tongue when
the time comes," Rebecca said to Sylvie.  "Turn around."  Sylvie gaped
at her aunt, much as her aunt had gaped at her just moments before. 
Rebecca draped the red rubber ball at the front of Sylvie's neck,
against her pearls.  Then, as with Alessandra, she tied the ball gag at
the back of Sylvie's neck, leaving the ball hanging free, to be put in
Sylvie's mouth later.  "There.  You are both done," Rebecca said when
she was finished.  "You're free to join the party."
         Feeling awkward, wearing high heels that made their bottoms
roll as they walked, Alessandra and Sylvie rounded the corner that led
to the party.  What they saw amazed them.  Despite the fact that
everyone was still standing around having drinks, as mild-mannerly as if
they were indeed at a formal affair for which Rebecca and her assistant
seemed dressed, everyone was attired as Alessandra and Sylvie were,
namely with whipped cream covering their otherwise exposed private
parts, and ball gags around their necks.  The men were the most naked. 
They wore nothing but a shirt and tie, tucked up and pinned with women's
hair pins to ensure that their asses and cocks were revealed.  Each man
had cream covering his cock and balls, as well as up the crack of his
behind; he was clothed and yet bare, his cock quivering whitely like
something that had been stabbed into a snowbank.
         "Oh.  How nice!" Alessandra said.  She smiled at Sylvie.  The
girl was blushing; Alessandra was a little too, though she tried not to
show it.  The men were incredibly handsome; like Sylvie, it was obvious
from the look on her face that she longed to see them without the cream
covering their most essential parts.
         "They sure are long!" Sylvie said, with childish enthusiasm,
blushing even more as she looked around her.  She meant, of course, the
men's cocks, for amidst all that male splendor, she had little time for
observing what the women offered, except to note that they were similar
in dress and beauty to herself.  To add to the sexual enchantment, a man
walked up to a toilet that was in the center of the room.  He lifted the
lid, then the seat, holding his drink in his hand all the while.  Then
he pissed; right through the cream covering his cock.  As he pissed a
second man came up and, holding a drink as well, slapped his behind. 
The first man laughed; the second peed with him and they seemed to have
a race, seeing which could relieve his bladder fastest.  But a woman
came up to them and suggested they both try to hold themselves back.  So
they did; each cutting himself off in mid-stream, chuckling with the
effort of stopping the flow of a half-full bladder.  The woman smiled
and replaced the toilet lid and seat.  Then she took a can of Redi-Wip
out of an ice bucket perched on the back of the toilet and carefully
squirted each man's pee-hole.  The force of his urine had exposed his
pee hole; she now made him modest again by covering it up.  When the
toilet had ceased flushing, the woman opened the lid up again, but she
didn't raise the seat.  She sat down.  She was holding a drink and she
demurely sipped it as she released, through her cream covered cunt lips,
her pee.  The men watched, fascinated.  The woman looked up at them as
she drank and peed.  The realization that the men had not finished
peeing was utterly obscene.  Their own cocks stuck out at her face,
quivering with their restrained need, as she emptied all of herself into
the toilet.  When she was done, before rising from the toilet, she
leaned forward.  Her heavy breasts hung with creamy desire as she ran
her tongue along each man's cock.  Where her tongue touched, he was
exposed.  Her lips, red with lipstick, turned white, as her mouth ran
along the cream covered dicks.  When she was finished she licked her
lips and swallowed.  Another woman glided up and took the Redi-Wip off
the back of the toilet and repaired the damage to the men's creamy penis
decorations.
         Sylvie and Alessandra mingled with the crowd.  As they did more
people took the opportunity of pissing in the toilet in the center of
the room.  No doubt there were bathrooms somewhere in Wesley's
apartment, but the word had gone out, before Sylvie and Alessandra's
arrival, that for the time being, at least at the party's beginning,
anyone who had to go must use the toilet on public view.  Whenever
anyone did, someone repaired the damage to their cream-covered genitals
with the Redi-Wip on the back of the toilet.  Alessandra and Sylvie were
urged to drink their fill, that they might participate in the sport.
         The conversation was both prosaic and lewd.  Amidst stock tips
and baking ideas, comments were traded on various partiers' assets. 
Alessandra herself, relatively new to these sorts of gatherings, came in
for a great load of compliments.  Her hair was praised, her underwear
also, but most of all those parts of herself which were teasingly
revealed and yet covered, thanks to the strategic placement of the
cream.  Sylvie too was complimented; both her breasts, large for a girl
her age, and the perfect swell of her young ass were admired.  Sylvie
and Alessandra blushed at the openness with which those parts of
themselves usually not on view were examined and praised; but even as
they turned red-faced at the praise they offered their own, for who
could fail to notice and compliment the many cream covered penises which
jabbed at them as they were spoken to?  Something which surprised
Alessandra, as it had at the two other parties she'd been to of this
nature, was the lack of gender identity of the comments.  A woman was as
likely to praise her tits as a man; a man was as apt to look at the
fellow standing beside him and tell him what a fine dick he had.
         Wesley appeared.  He was a handsome young artist with a
goatee.  His hair was black, Sylvie thought he looked a bit like a satyr
she'd read about in her seventh grade Myths of the World class.  What
most intrigued her about him was that he wasn't naked like the others. 
As the owner of the apartment and the designer of the party, he
privileged himself with a master of ceremonies role.  Despite having
what appeared to be a terrific body, he had it cloaked in a bathrobe. 
Only the protrusion at waist level, at the front of his tightly tied
robe, indicated that underneath he was sporting an excellent, and
utterly free, erection.  He made the rounds, greeting everyone,
examining their compliance with his mailed instructions as to their
attire or, rather, lack of it, combined with the artfully sprayed on
cream.  Several women tried to lift Wesley's robe, to see what he was
offering at such outstanding length underneath, but he slapped their
hands away, preferring to keep his private parts private.  When he came
to Sylvie the girl gulped and looked up at him with a kind of dumb
admiration.  He grinned down at her and said, casually to Alessandra,
"Your niece has one of the finest asses I've ever seen."  That he was
standing in front of Sylvie when he said this made the girl reach back
behind herself with alarm.  She felt as if her bare bottom were sticking
out for everyone to admire, especially if this man could compliment it
while simultaneously staring down at her uplifted breasts.
         "Say thank you," Alessandra said to Sylvie.  At the same time,
with her black gloved hand, she reached down and slapped away little
Sylvie's hands, so that the girl was left awkwardly running her gloved
fingers up and down her bare thighs.
         "Thanks," Sylvie mumbled.
         "I should like to have you installed in a bed later," Wesley
said, still admiring the thrust of Sylvie's naked breasts, protected
only by the cream on her nipples.
         "I'm not sleepy," Sylvie said.  There was laughter.  The girl's
blush increased.
         "It isn't for the purpose of sleep, my dear," Wesley said, with
charming frankness, at least as far as the others present were
concerned, except Alessandra, who suddenly had a worried look on her
face.  "Bed is best for whipping," Wesley explained.  "There is no
reason to discomfort the rest of one's body just because one's bottom is
in for it."  Sylvie gasped.  Her small, gloved hands swept back again
immediately to her ass.  As she clapped her bare cheeks some cream flew
off her behind, landing on the floor.  There was a look of utter
incomprehension on her face; the laughter of the other partiers didn't
help her understand Wesley's remark any better.  Indeed, her aunt felt
obliged to say,
         "Wesley!  Please!  She's just a virgin!"
         It was not something Alessandra had planned to advertise;
telling the assorted men present that a virgin was in their midst was
only more likely to insure the young girl was fucked.  Sylvie blushed
profusely.  There were gasps of amazement from the crowd.  Wesley
smiled; had he suspected Sylvie's condition all along?  Just then a
woman entered the party late, coming around the corner from the
anteroom.  She had short brown hair.  It danced on her bare slender
shoulders as she presented herself to the group.  She was dressed as the
others, but there was one difference.  While everyone else was
fashionably slim, her belly was swollen and distended; but in a lovely
way.  
         "Ah, from virginity to pregnancy," Wesley announced.  "Good
evening, Lynne," he said to the young woman.  A man entered after her,
his shirt pinned up and his cock exposed and creamed.  As the crowd
absorbed this new couple, more comments were made:
         "Wow!  She sure got nailed," one woman said.
         "No wonder.  Look at the size of her lover's cock!" another
enthused.
         "We should make sure she's truly pregnant, by all giving her a
bit of what we're carrying between our legs," a man commented.
         "Yes.  Of course," Wesley, overhearing the comment, agreed. 
"We shall all have at her tonight, to make sure she's indeed as pregnant
as can be.  Of course the baby will be named after me," Wesley added,
and there was a short round of applause, though nobody knew if he was
joking or telling the truth.  The new mom's eyes sparkled, she looked
from one partier to another as all the attention in the room now
focussed on her, an her belly.  She presented her load to loving hands
which patted her stomach; the men present enthused not only over her
stomach but over the size of her breasts.  And some women did too, to
Alessandra's continuing amazement that the night promised sex without
regard for any morality, even for the traditional separation of genders.
         Sylvie stood looking at the pregnant young wife with her hands
on her bottom.  For the moment she was forgotten; not unhappily, she
assured herself, as she felt her tender cheeks.  But she wondered what
it would be like to be whipped, as Wesley had offered.  Not on her ribs,
as Beth had done, but on her bare ass!  Alessandra had promised her that
if she came her behind would be a subject of much enjoyment and
attention; spanked, even.  But a whipping?  Sylvie had not contemplated
such mistreatment as that!  And yet there was a certain allure to it,
perhaps to the way Wesley had presented it.  She was discovering she had
a crush on him, as he stood admiring, with the others, the pregnant
wife.  Maybe it was just because he was in charge, privileged to be
clothed while the others showed all they had, or almost all.  Or perhaps
it was because he seemed to have such a daunting cock, under that robe
of his.  Or maybe it was the way he looked at her, as if she were not so
much a living thing as a work of art, something he longed to dabble with
and improve.  She would grow under his tutelage.  She would no longer be
a scared little girl but a grown woman, a very beautiful woman, like her
aunt.  Gradually Sylvie loosened her fingers' hold on her bottom.  She
let her bare cheeks wiggle out of her palms.  And then she realized,
with a certain awful delight, that she had to go to the bathroom!  With
everyone still watching the wife, petting her belly and complimenting
her, Sylvie went to the toilet.  She pulled up the lid, plopped down
with a certain childish relief on the seat.  It was clean, and warm from
the bottoms of the other women who had sat on it.  Sylvie began to pee. 
And as the sound of her water hitting the commode's water rose up in the
room, people turned to look at her.  Most of all Wesley, who, with a
drink in one hand and with his other hand resting on the belly of the
pregnant woman, said,
         "Ah!  Making good use of that sweet little cherry cunt of
yours, eh?  We shall have cake in a minute, and perhaps then you will
treat me to a nice little shit!"
         When the mother had been admired, Wesley finished his drink and
put it down on one of the deal tables scattered about the room.  There
were no chairs; people were expected to stand until the festivities
began, not ruining the decoration of cream that ran up the cracks of
their bottoms.  However someone suggested to Wesley that in future
toilets be made available, not for peeing in but for the fact that their
seats were open in the middle.
         "In this way the women could rest their legs, without spoiling
their pretty creamed bottoms," the man suggested.  Wesley nodded.
         "It will be so at my next party," Wesley said.  "But now we
must move along, since the women have all been standing in their
stockings and heels for some time.  Bring out the cake!" he cried.  Twin
doors at the back of the room opened.  A cake was rolled out, and it was
huge.  It was pyramid shaped.  It stretched nearly up to people's
chests, or necks, depending on their height.  It was a layered white
wedding cake, an ironic choice for such a lewd party.  Atop the purity
of the white icing was not a plastic statue of a couple, but rather a
cock.  It stuck up rudely, to the delight of the females and as a
seeming challenge to what each man possessed between his legs.  It was
at least 12 inches long.  When the cake had been rolled out, by two
young women in maids outfits that did nothing to hide the beauty of
their naked breasts or, when they turned, the utter nakedness of their
pretty bottoms, Wesley announced that there was a surprise in store for
the group.  Everyone picked up the empty plates that had been lying in
piles all night on the deal tables.  They were made of china, but
despite the expense that had been gone to in order to provide such fine
wares everyone realized, at that moment, that there were no forks.
         "We shall eat as savages," Wesley said.  "With our fingers. 
Keep your gloves on of course, ladies.  We shall not be utterly
savage."  There was laughter at this.  Then Wesley clapped his hands
again and said, "You think that's all I have in store for you?  Gather
round and have some cake and you will see another surprise."  The
partiers eagerly swept forward.  Even little Sylvie, clutching her
plate, found herself drooling for some of the very pretty cake, which
was adorned with little red roses as well as virgin white icing.  But as
people reached out to grab at the cake, which had already been arduously
sliced into pieces, an amazing thing happened.  It was launched by the
two bare-bottomed maids, who had retreated into the kitchen.  Quite
suddenly champagne spurted from all points of the cake, splashing the
guests.  Everyone gasped.  The champagne kept spurting, there was
apparently a lot of it bottled up inside and the cake now peed on the
guests who would eat it, washing away the cream on the women's breasts,
baring their nipples, striking their bellies and running down their
legs.  One woman laughingly turned and offered her bottom to a stream of
champagne.  It washed her ass, exposing her bottom crack.  The men,
seeing that they could bare their dicks quickly and easily before the
cake, offered themselves to the streams of champagne and laughingly
washed their dicks.  Others couldn't resist the obscene spectacle of
trying to catch the pee-like champagne in their mouths.  They bent in
order to do so; as they did, the source of all the streams were
revealed, for gliding now out from the cake, protruding at all points
from the icing, came a series of ersatz cocks.  Just when the streams
finally began to lessen, the big cock on top blew forth a tribute.  It
geysered forth like old faithful, offering champagne in such quantity as
to make the cocks on the sides of the cake look like pikers.  Then the
ultimate surprise occurred; the sides of the cake fell open.  People
rushed back to get out of the way as the pretty cake smashed its sides
to the floor.  Inside was something even more delicious than the cake
nobody had gotten to eat.  It was a young girl, perhaps no older than
16, but with a buxom figure as wonderful as that of any woman's in the
room.
         "Here is our treat!" Wesley announced.  To everyone's shock,
the delightful young girl was covered up to her neck in white icing. 
There was even a little icing on her cheeks, and in her coiffure, she
was covered so generously.  Around her neck was a white rope.  It ran
down between her breasts, insuring that, no matter how slick she might
be with icing, she would never be able to get away from the guests.  
         The crowd surged forward.  They helped the girl rise and at the
same time someone grabbed the rope.  Submissively she allowed herself to
be yanked out of the collapsed cake.  As she was, smiling at the vast
amount of attention she was receiving, and from such handsome guests,
two men immediately attacked her breasts.  They tried to shove her
substantial gourds completely into their mouths.  The girl gasped a
little but didn't resist; Wesley had told her beforehand of the torrent
of desire her lovely figure would be sure to unleash.  As soon as the
girl, who was naked and barefoot, was out of the cake, she was stopped
in her stumbling forward movement.  With the two men still trying the
impossible act of swallowing her breasts, a woman knelt down behind
her.  Rudely she parted the cheeks of the girl's bottom.  She inserted
her tongue and began to lick eagerly at the inner cheeks of the girl's
behind as the 16-year-old gasped and her eyes bulged.  But it wasn't the
end; inspired by the successful attacks on her breasts and ass, another
woman knelt down in front of her.  With an eager tongue she attacked the
girl's icing covered pussy.  The girl let out a little shout; it was
drowned by people crowding around her and licking her wherever they
could; her shoulders, her ribs, her belly, her legs, one man now lifting
her right foot to suck on her toes.
         Wesley smiled at Sylvie and Alessandra, who looked on in
astonishment.
         "Help yourselves," Wesley said to the two.  "She won't last
long."
         Somewhat reluctantly, but fueled by the excitement of the
moment, by the sheer animalistic allure of it, Alessandra and then
Sylvie joined in.  Alessandra got a leg.  As she licked it clean of
icing Sylvie, squirming forward, was awarded the plum prize of one of
the 16-year-old's tits.  It was already free of icing.  Sylvie tasted
wet flesh, the saliva of the man who had surrendered the tit to her. 
For his part the man got a treat that nearly topped what he'd just been
eating.  He went straight for little Sylvie's ass.  
         "YEEEEK!" Sylvie squealed, as she felt an unknown tongue delve
into the cream that concealed her furrow.  Her ass cheeks tightened at
once; trapping the tongue of the lover who was licking her.  But he was
strong, and impatient.  He grabbed Sylvie's legs and yanked them apart. 
Ignoring her taut little ass, he went straight for her cunt.  Sylvie
cried out again.  Alessandra lifted her head from the leg she was
licking, brushed back her hair, then laughed when she saw that Sylvie
was now being held aloft, her pretty black shoes not even touching the
ground, by the man who was eating her cunt.  Hands groped for Sylvie's
panties, as they were now groping for any clothing on anyone they could
reach.  The girl's undies, filled with cream, were yanked down to her
thighs so that the man holding open her legs could more easily attack
her cherry private.  It was a generous gesture, for the hands that
pulled Sylvie's panties down were not those of the man spreading her
legs or licking her slit.  Perhaps the hands that assisted the man
licking out Sylvie were those of a woman, for no sooner was Sylvie
revealed than a mouth came to the man's cock and began sucking him for
all he was worth, even as he attempted to deflower Sylvie with his
tongue.  But no one could tell without looking, and nobody was bothering
to do that, mouths fixed to whatever body parts they could find.  The
mouth sucking the man may have just as easily been male as female.
         In a few minutes, the bodies so arduously decorated with cream
were licked clean.  The same was true of the girl in the cake, who now
lay amidst a tangle of limbs outside it, no part of her body touching
the floor as she was devoured by many mouths.  When she was quite naked,
someone took hold of the rope round her neck while someone else inserted
himself somewhat painfully into her cunt.  She was not virgin, but the
entry was quick and the loving was heated; she cried out as she was
filled with male seed, even as tongues insured not a trace of icing
remained on her body.  As soon as one male had relieved his need,
another followed.  Three men fucked the 16-year-old girl before Wesley
called for a halt to give people, especially those most loved, a chance
to catch their breaths.  And he had one other reason for insisting on a
break:  little Sylvie was on her knees, about to be impaled from behind,
when he saw it and gave her a chance to escape the melee with her cherry
intact.
         When Sylvie stumbled free of the bodies she saw that her aunt
had not been so lucky.  Or, from another point of view, her luck had
been better.  She was flat on her back, on the carpeted floor, receiving
a cock in her open mouth while a man, lying atop her, gave his all
between her splayed legs.
         "There.  It is a pretty sight, is it not?" Wesley asked Sylvie,
drifting up beside her and grasping her small little shoulder.  The girl
jerked, afraid her would bend her right over and make her join her aunt
in the sport.  But Wesley simply patted her head, as if she were a
little kitten or dog, and smiled and remarked on her ass:  "It is even
prettier without cream hiding it," he said.
         "You are shameless," Sylvie said, remembering a new word she'd
learned in her seventh grade vocabulary class.  Wesley laughed.  
         "And you are utterly adorable, especially your bottom," Wesley
replied.  "I should like to whip it now," he said.  He reached down and
took the girl by the elbow.  Her eyes darted up to him, her neck
straining as she looked at him sideways.  Her lovely coiffure had fallen
apart in the melee and her blonde hair hung in iced strands before her
eyes; hiding this satyr, yet leaving her enough visibility to see his
wicked smile.  "Let us proceed," Wesley said.  "I intend you no harm."
         Like a squire escorting a young lady, Wesley led Sylvie up a
curving flight of stairs beyond the party room, up to the second floor
of his apartment.  Sylvie had no idea why she was allowing him to,
except that he was persuasive with his hand on his elbow, both a
gentleman and, at the same time, a kind of grinning criminal.  The girl
found herself led into a sumptuous bedroom.  The bed was covered in red
satin.  Wesley told Sylvie to get on it.
         "But first pull your stockings taut," he told her.  "And don't
take off your shoes," he added, as the girl, completely inexperienced in
bedroom affairs, made to do just that.
         When Sylvie had pulled up her stockings, Wesley told her to
turn around.  Shiveringly, she did so.  She was quite naked now, except
for her pearls and gloves and what she wore on her legs and feet.  He
was still in his bathrobe.  His cock bumped her bottom.  She jerked
again, colt-like.  He reached around to her front, from behind, and
lifted her ball gag.  
         "Open," Wesley said.  Sylvie opened her mouth, too young to
think he might mean for her to widen the stance of her virgin legs. 
Wesley fitted her ball gag between her lips.  She gagged a little as she
felt the big ball depress her tongue.  When her mouth was safely secured
with the rubber ball Wesley then had her crawl onto his bed.  "Hang your
head.  Offer your bottom to me," Wesley said.  He was dissatisfied with
Sylvie's posture.  As he got a long wooden switch out of a dresser
drawer he told her to stick out her ass more.  "Be brazen with it," he
said.  "Act as if you've got something in you and you're trying to poop
it out onto the satin bedspread."
         Awkwardly Sylvie offered herself.  Wesley smiled at the glossy
cheeks, the way the skin of her ass stretched alluringly, a tight little
pair of ball-like cheeks made all the more delectable as she shoved her
behind back at him with a kind of ribald innocence.  Her fat little ass
opened itself as she stuck it at him, showing him her anal dimple
within, the lips of her still-virgin cunt stretched sweetly below. 
There was just a fringe of fur on her cuntlips, she was too young to
have to contemplate trimming herself.  As for her ass hole, it was
completely bare and tiny and sweet; inwardly puckered as if to receive
what he was offering between his legs.  He would begin with the outer
surfaces of her cheeks and then work inward, surprising her with the
awful pain of the switch between her bottom crack at the very end,
perhaps scoring the tiny anal hole itself, striking it with the whip,
cutting into her taut cunt as well.
         "Are you ready?" Wesley asked, when the girl was shoving her
ass at him with as much audacity as a 13-year-old virgin could muster. 
The girl looked back at him, through her hanging veil of icing mussed
hair.  Her blue eyes glowed with fright and a kind of eager abandon. 
Her titties hung nakedly under her, the nipples stiff.
         "Goo," Sylvie said, having no idea what she was in for, the
ball gag in her mouth destroying her attempt to speak.  She presented
her ass to Wesley as one might offer a present, her slender legs open,
her bottom cheeks wide and wiggling a little now, flexing as she
contemplated closing herself to his gaze.
         "Stay just like that," Wesley told her.  "No matter how much it
hurts."  Just then Alessandra walked in the room.  Sylvie, on her knees
and looking back, blushed.  Her thighs nearly snapped shut but by some
effort of embarrassed will she kept them open.  Her aunt looked at her,
the hair on her head disheveled from the melee downstairs and her
subsequent fucking.  There was male seed running from her cunt and down
the insides of her thighs.
         "Oh!  I am just in time for her first time," Alessandra gasped,
and blushed a little.
         "Stand back," Wesley said to Sylvie's aunt.

30

---------------- Naughty Naked Dreamgirls! -----------------
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