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Dazed, I let them take lift me off the carpet, wondering when I should get those stains off the coffee table coming second to the six pairs of hands groping cubicle to clit. I moan, from exhaustion, not pleasure, and only two hands remain, helping me onto the couch.
The first UPS man brushes a thumb across my mouth, and I suck automatically.
"Guess we won't ask for a tip."
We all laugh, except the 3rd mailman. At first I think it might've been a UPS/post office rivalry, but realize he's too busy pulling on his pants to laugh.
I sit back.
"What are your names?"
"For the Christmas card list, huh? Bill." Bill has dirty-blonde hair, stubble on his 40-ish face, slightly weathered by years of good living and sun.
"Tony", the trainee says, legs spread widely as he sits back in my recliner.
Tony has that Italian look, a crew cut, and a returning, huge erection which shows his youth as much as the amazed look on his face does.
"And you're Brian, right?"
He nods, buttoning his blue shirt up. I do exchange cards with him. But this type of exchange is a helluva lot more fun.
I settle further into the couch, sitting Indian-style, nipples hard from the cool air, juices still dripping off me.
"Maybe we should go Tony."
Bill looks over to Tony, who's mindlessly running a thumb across his flat, muscled belly. Tony licks his full, beautiful lips and glances down at his cock.
"She gonna take care of this first?"
I want to, but every part of my aching body screams no.
"Hasn't she done enough?"
He gives Tony this look, a commanding look that sends fire between my legs. So confident in himself and his authority. I get the worst kind of idea. Stretching my legs out, with a great view of my pussy for all to see, I stand on my sturdier feet, taking Bill's big hand in mine. We settle near the recliner.
"This a threesome? Lady, I only do that with girls."
My cummed-teeth flash as I laugh, licking my way up and down Bill's left palm. I attach the slick flesh onto Tony's dick before either can protest.
Tony tries to jump up, until I put his hands on my breasts. My smile and arched eyebrows say more to Bill than words could, and he makes a fist around Tony's cock. Bill smiles, seeing my reaction.
"Just consider this more training Tony."
Tony frowns between my tits, but his shaft can't tell the difference, growing and growing to impossible lengths while Bill jerks him off. Fluid drips from his angry red cockhead onto his hairy thigh, producing a grunt in my chest made louder when I pull at his balls.
Brian stares at us, coat hanging halfway on, a giant bulge in his pants which doesn't need to be weighed or stamped. He gulps when Tony and Bill's free fingers invade my pussy, stretching and squeezing the strained, used, pulsating insides.
This is so good I barely even notice when the doorbell rings. Bill grunts a question into my neck, between bites.
"Oh shi...keep doing that...Mrs. Shelton was supposed to drop by to discuss a fundraiser, at...now...mmmmm..."
Out of the corner of my eye I see Brian rubbing his stiffness. Mrs. Shelton, the 45-year old divorcee who wears tight stretch pants, who can't go on enough about how much she misses her husband, who doesn't seem to notice Brian staring at her cleavage when even I can from across the street.
Another of those terrible ideas.
"Come in Dana! Door's open!"
Tony stares at me in shock, the sleaziness being some final trigger.
"You're wild bitch...uhhhhh..."
As soon as she takes a step in, before she has time to take in her friend naked and wet all over, being fingered by two hot men, one getting a hand job from the other, sperm gushing all over his golden-haired supervisor's belly and his own thighs, Brian pushes her against the wall, shoving his tongue into her open mouth as he impales her through their clothes. And then I...
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