churning inside me, and I still thought that some twenty minutes later when he was still plowing me at depths that Steve had never reached. I was moving my hips with his and moaning real good for him, so I’m sure he got the message that I enjoyed this. After entering me, he had folded his strong body over mine and held my arms over my head by my wrists. He even did some serious work on my neck with his swollen lips and teeth, and the guttural sounds he was making indicated to me that this wasn’t only to fulfill his ritual. I was very happy he had chosen me as one of his three for the night, and wondered if any of his eight compatriots would be angry that I had supplanted his turn with the Bull.

When the Bull had flooded me deep with his cum, he rose off me; slapped my butt, which I took as a signal that he’d had a good time; and was gone. When I could gather some of my wits about me, I struggled out of the bed and over toward the wash basin to clean myself off.

En route to the wash basin, I found myself in the grip of the husky wrestler from the dancer’s tableau. He pushed me to the ground and we fought for purchase and domination. There was no doubt he was going to win, but I kept wrestling with him until I was completely exhausted and lay panting on the ground with his knees encasing my thighs. A strong arm wrapped around my belly from behind and he lifted my pelvis to his awaiting cock. He wasn’t as thick as the Bull, but he was thicker than Steve. He was on one knee and had his other leg in a crouch position, his foot flat on the ground. The agwallah bush pulp smearing his club allowed my ass to slide back and forth on to his cock as effortlessly as the Bull had entered me, and the wrestler just pumped me up and down on his cock like I was a curling weight. It was quite enjoyable, really, and I felt particularly privileged that two of the dancers had sought me out to share their ritual with me, an outsider. The wrestler came inside me and left me, and I struggled to my feet again, still intent on cleaning myself off.

I never made it to the wash basin, however. One pair of strong hands shoot out of the dark and grabbed me by the hips from behind, while another set grabbed me in front by the shoulders and bent me over frontward. Another dick, more slender than either the Bull’s or the wrestler’s, plowed into my ass, while the dancer in front of me forced a short, but thick greased cock between my lips and started circular motions with his hips. The agwallah bush pulp not only was a very good lubricant, but it also tasted pretty good too. The face-fucking dancer must have been a little anxious, because he came quickly. Perhaps he was surprised that I had enthusiastically taken on the job of jacking him off with my mouth. The ass-fucking dancer took a little longer, but when I wiggled my butt for him, and reached back and squeezed his balls, he cried out as he came. I heard the crack of a hand across his mouth, however, no doubt applied by the Bull, and he didn’t make any further noise.

These two satisfied