Polly Wants a Cracker

by Lesly Sloan

I met her at the Midtown Health Club. She was one hot looking woman and dressed to get any guy excited. You know: short skirt almost up to her ass, a top with deep cleavage that showed most of her tits, that sort of thing.

"Hi, I'm Polly. What's your name?"

Hey, a friendly chick. "Roger."

"That's a nice Southern accent. Where are you from?"

"A little town in Georgia. I'm a 'cracker', not from the higher classes."

"Well, Mister Cracker, after this workout I'm invited to a party. Want to come?"

"Great. Count me in."

Sounded like it might be fun, and I couldn't see any downside to going along with this pretty gal. Rushed the workouts so that we could get to the party early. I'm always ready for action, and I figured Polly must know lots of good looking chickies.

It was in a loft in Tribeca. When we got upstairs there was music in the background and a bar set up in the corner. There was lots of bare skin showing, more than usual. I'm all for that.

An older woman was standing near the door, greeting people. Her dress was fancy enough, but it was weird in one way: the off-the-shoulder dress was so far off one of her shoulders that one boob was uncovered.

Polly didn't seem to notice anything strange and introduced her as "Cynthia, our hostess". I felt like grabbing her tit. She thought my accent was "charming." I thought her tit was charming. This whole thing was shaping up as strange deal. Best to find out what the real story was, before trying anything. That turned out to be a smart move 'cause a big bruiser of a guy came over, who introduced himself as Horace, Cynthia's hubby.

"Uh,.. pleased to meet you," I said, never at a loss for words. That bare tit was making it hard to sound real smart.

"Come on," said Polly, "let's circulate. I want you to meet some people."

There was a couple nearby, good looking people. Of course I noticed the babe more than the guy - a stacked blond with long legs that seemed to go from her shoes all the way up beyond her short skirt, to the Promised Land, if you get my drift.

Polly did the intro thing: "Roger, meet my husband Don. And this is Sharon, who lives with us. We're a triad."

What the hell was she saying? Did she mean what I thought she meant? I'd heard of such stuff but never thought I'd run into it at a party in Tribeca, for "nice people." I guess some nice people do stuff I'd thought was for perverts. Maybe I don't hang out in the right parts of town, or with the right people. Whatever.

"Why don't you look around some more? I'll catch you later," said Polly.

I noticed people going in and out of some bedrooms at one end of the loft. It wasn't cold enough for people to be stashing coats. So, drink in hand, I walked into a bedroom to see what was happening. Our hostess Cynthia was on a large bed with her husband Horace, and another guy. At first it was hard to figure out what was happening.

I figured it out. Cynthia was on her back, with her legs spread wide and a smile on her face. Her eyes were open; she winked at me when she saw me looking. That shocked the hell out of me, because Horace was on his knees with his tongue in her bush, licking away very slowly and carefully, all around her slit and into it. The other guy was about to stick his dick into Cynthia's mouth, which was wide open to take it. And she just winked at me!

Strange thing about this whole party - I was embarrassed, but nobody else was, so far as I could tell. Not jealous, not pissed off about sharing sex partners. Just good natured as hell. It came to me that maybe I've been movin' in the wrong circles my whole life. Sure seems like a fine way to live.

"Come with us," I heard from lips close to my ear. It was Polly. She grabbed my hand, pulling me along with her and the other two members of her "Triad."

"Oh, an empty bedroom, she cooed. "Let's take it."

The four us went in and closed the door...

They casually stripped. I decided to peel because I'd have stood out otherwise.

Speaking of standing out, Don had an erection already. I wasn't standing out, so to speak. Not yet.

Polly and Sharon got onto the bed while me and Don watched. These gals put on some show!

It was real interestin' to compare the two gals, especially their bushes, or lack of a bush: Polly's cunt was shaved bare. Sure seemed an invitation to come in and visit! Sharon had a bush, trimmed into a cute diamond shape, pointing downwards. Good for someone who needed directions, I reckon.

They kissed while holding real tight around each others's body. Then Sharon moved her lips along Polly's body, all the way to that bare pussy. My tool was way out in front now, and I saw a little drop at the end. I've seen some porno movies of two gals, but this live action was a world better.

Then I looked over at Don, who was watching the two women with a smile. Sure didn't bother him to see the two of them playing around; I figured he was about to jump on the bed with them. But he looked over at me and waved his hand toward the bed. This guy was inviting me to get into the action with his wife and Sharon. I'd call that real neighborly.

It was clumsy, getting into the bed. But the gals made it easy for me when they felt my weight: They moved apart and pulled me into place between them. Holy shit, this was a new one for me: between two hot naked gals, with a smilin' husband watching!

I turned to Polly and nibbled on her boobs while putting two fingers into her cunt. She was wet as hell down there, from the action with Sharon, so the fingers went in real easy. I wiggled my fingers around and then found her cute little girly cock; it was swollen and wantin' attention. As I was takin' care of that chore, I noticed Sharon's finger in my ass, exploring my rear door. In the back of mind (the part watchin' what was going on) it seemed like we were pretty busy, what with me having fingers in Polly's cunt, and Sharon having a finger exploring my ass. Not much else could happen. Wrong! Sharon reached around and grabbed my cock real hard. She sure knew what to do once she took ahold, moving her hand up and down.

Suddenly, Don was in bed with us. He got next to Sharon and pulled her into his arms, leaving me to take care of Polly. Her pussy was getting slicker and slicker, what with all my attention to her clit. She was sure breathin' hard; I figured she was about ready to cum. "Stay just like that," she whispered to me, as she pulled away. I was confused as to what was goin' on, but that was clear when she sat on my face! It was a lot nicer than it sounds, because she had that drippin' hot pussy right over my face. My tongue followed right down her wet slit to her clit. It was ready for some serious attention. I licked away; she was at the edge of a real big orgasm. I took her over that edge by sucking on her button. As she yelled I heard the same sort of thing from Sharon. I guess Don was taking real good care of her. We made nice music together!

At that point, we switched - me with Sharon, and Don with Polly. There was a lot of puffin' and huffin' - but not much happened because we'd had about all we could handle by then. We relaxed, laughed, and held each other. It was the nicest way to spend time with friends that I'd ever had. Yep, we were real good friends by now. I was comfortable with them, and I knew they felt the same way about me. I got up to pee and then heard the comments.

My ears must've been blocked (or just disconnected from my brain) while all the sex was going on. Because, as I got off the bed and stood there, with limp cock and a shit-eatin' grin, I started to heard some whispered comments: "Who's the new guy with Sharon and Polly", "I loved it when Polly sat on his face", and so forth. Some peepers had come into the room and had been watching the scene in the bed. I felt like taking a bow, but that'd be showing off. I've never been a showoff, until now. Maybe I've got a future in show business. Nah!

What surprised the hell out of me was that everything was open, no guilt crap! I don't exaggerate or lie, unless it's necessary. But this was the *greatest* thing that happened to me since I had my first orgasm in the back of my car with Peggy Ann, the preacher's daughter, back home.

I decided to leave after getting away from the scene with the three of them because I was all wore out. Besides, they had stopped the sex and seemed to be involved in some sort of private discussion. And I had to get to work early the next morning.

I said goodbye to Polly: "It's been a great party. Thanks for inviting me."

"I've been talking to Don and Sharon. They agree that we should invite you to join us. We'll have a foursome, rather than only three. We've been thinking of getting another guy, and you're exactly what we've been looking for. Are your interested?"

Was I interested? Like a starving man offered a juicy hamburger. Like a sinner offered salvation. Thank the lord!!

"That's a damn fine invitation. Count me in, but I wonder if I have the stamina to keep up with y'all."

She smiled sweetly and looked up, "Based on what happened tonight, I'm sure you'll do just fine."

She produced a notebook and pen and asked for my phone number. After giving her that info, I realized that I didn't know much about her, other than the fact she and her two lovers were into hot action: fucking, sucking, and the rest. Hey, I don't mean to knock that. I jumped at the chance to get with them.

In return, I took her phone number and then figured I ought to know more than just her first name.

"By the way," I said, "what's your last name?"

"Amory."

"Polly Amory"! That figures.

"Polly Wants A Cracker" © 2001-2002 by Lesly Sloan. All rights reserved. Not to be reproduced, copied, distributed, published, quoted or used in any form for commercial gain without the express written permission of the author.

Lesly Sloan came to New York City over fifteen years ago from
Ohio. She enjoys walks in Central Park with her husband, the
variety of restaurants in NYC, and the variety of people
from all over the world who inhabit NYC. She writes software
for a living and erotica for pleasure. Having recently discovered
erotica, she has become an enthusiastic practitioner of that
art, as time permits.

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