EuphOff 2019: Gravy for His Love Sausage

This is an entry for the EuphOff competition hosted by The Other Livvy. Click on the image below this post to read more about this fun challenge, and to read other entries.

John swallowed nervously. He had never done something like this before, and he wasn’t sure if he was up to the challenge. It had seemed a good idea at the time. Hell, what man wouldn’t jump at the chance to satisfy three women? But now that the time was here, he was afraid he wouldn’t last. Taking a deep breath, he turned the handle and entered the room.

Three women. Three beautiful honey holes he had to fill with his love sausage. He grabbed a bottle of lube, spreading the lubrication liberally over his baton of desire and positioning himself at the first catcher’s mitt. He had received his instructions; each woman wanted something different. This one – they all remained nameless – wanted a quick, rough stuffing, something he was looking forward to. He plunged his stiff member into the woman’s hot love channel, the gravy of her desire covering his meat torpedo in a delicious way. She writhed and moaned underneath him as he plunged deep into her. She reached the pinnacle of her desire too soon for his liking, but that didn’t matter; he had two other holes waiting.

The second woman wanted to be pleasured by his tongue. Kneeling down, John brought his mouth towards the flower which lay in front of him and started eating. She moaned as he slid his tongue through both halves of her pancake. He licked his way to the top and then, his tongue stiff and hard, he rooted her raspberry with the tip. It yielded reluctantly, but he probed and gently pushed away the leaves until the delicate fruit lay exposed. Her honey hole dispensed enough cream to cover her delicious fruit and he groaned with delight as the flavours coated his tongue. He could feel his rod standing proud between his legs, but he willed himself to stay in control. It would not do to shoot his splooge before he was finished with the third woman.

The third woman wanted to be on top. She was tiny, but her breasts were like melons, hanging low and ripe. He took her by the hand and led her to a stool in the room. He sat down and helped her on his lap. Her tight snapper received him hungrily, clamping down on his one-eyed snake as if to devour him. He spun her like a top and the walls of her woman cave closed in on him, milking him eagerly. He couldn’t help himself as she sucked every last bit of passion juice out of him.

Tired, but satisfied, his love sausage covered in gravy and cream, John staggered out of the room. He was proud of himself; the feast had been a success.