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He finds he is cuckold, then gives another oral sex.
I had to comment, "God man, you're in great shape tonight, I can now see what Ann meant when I overheard her asking if you had a license to carry that weapon!"
"Of course," John said, "I'm number seven...007 with a license to thrill." His answer drew a roar of laughter from the guys.
Only later did I appreciate the ingenuity of his wit when I learnt that the order in which the men were seated around the pad was clockwise, according to their initiation date.
I would also learn the significance of the different colored V belts the men were wearing. They represented the seven colors of the rainbow. So that whenever a new playmate couple joined the group, the first color in the spectrum, the 'red couple', would leave the group, and at the next event, the couples would then move up one color.
The plush carpet formed an aisle between the dais and the groomsmen, who each sat on a chaise longue spaced around the edge of it. Interspersed between them, potted palm arrangements broke the symmetry and created an atmosphere of elegance and intimacy.
On closer inspection, the dais proved to be an upholstered, black leather pad, thigh high with steps at twelve and six o'clock. Colored cushions in rainbow colors were scattered randomly on the pad and suspended a few feet above the center, hung the slowly rotating harness of a pleasure swing.
Forming a quadrant around the pad, sculptured marble goddesses, "The Four Seasons", stood upon their pedestals. Each held above her head a torch from which livid tongues of flame leapt like dancing devils, casting flickering firelight over those below.
John had sensed my awkwardness as I stood there at the opening to the circle, not knowing quite where I should be or what I should be doing, "Relax man, just hang loose and stay cool until the girls arrive," he reassured.
No sooner had he said so than from somewhere in background the chiming of a clock announced the midnight hour. The band changed mood and tempo, and broke into a raunchy arrangement of the St Louis Blues.
At the rear of the ballroom, from where I had entered it, the heavy drapes swung back. My senses reeled. I had never seen anything so matchlessly erotic as the bevy of bridal beauties that had begun to bump and grind its way down the crimson strip towards us.
Ann! She took my breath away and my cock hardened and rose in a heartbeat at the sight of her transformation. She was wearing a cream satin skirt, split in the front from the waist with its long train held by three bridesmaids either side.
Her long gloves were of gold satin and she held in her hands a bouquet of fresh red roses and magnolia blooms. Each skirt-parting step of her scarlet stilettos betrayed her wet arousal and brought her one step closer to the consummation of the sharing that this night would bring.
I might not have recognized her at some distance as her veil diffused her features. Unrestrained in their eager pride, there was no mistaking her wonderful breasts and hard, dark nipples. Strips of red satin ribbon framed them as they bounced and danced to a rhythm of their own. Around her neck, a lustrous long string of fashion pearls swung wildly over and between her cleavage as she strutted he butt between the blazing braziers.
From behind me, the men responded to the advancing troupe with a chorus of primal groans and cheers, mine among them. Nerilie, at her side, wore a glittering necklace of emeralds and diamonds, and nothing else but long black gloves, a scarlet thong, and black stilettos - as they strutted their hot flesh down the aisle towards us, she came as close to upstaging the bride as a woman can get.
The bridesmaids were also topless, their nipples made up to compliment their individual style and eye make-up. They wore long black gloves to match their stilettos, and a colored thong in accordance to their place in the spectrum.
Scarlet lips smiled seductively at me from beneath a wi