FALLON: SOUTHERN LIGHTS

A big bang under the Aurora Australis

There was a rare energy everywhere this particular night. It was in the reverberating cylinders of Jarryn's supped up close to illegally modified car.

Copiously coarse get up and go in the shit loads of crass nonsense flowing from the buck's mouths in his Holden between swigging constant tops up of alcohol from the generous supply of stubbies squeezed somehow on the back seat, along with Fallon, who was hemmed in indecently happy between burly Jackson and hefty Will. 

Lust was fully charged in a bareback explicit way given the lack of condoms between the four mates in the Holden, each secretly hopeful of 'dating' Fallon's arse tonight. The smutty vigour was even more promiscuously pernicious in the hardcore approach Fallon was shaping to how this encounter would unfold before it got beyond her control.

There was way too much pent-up, hurtling, kamikaze, raw sexuality in the vehicle. The youthful male and female hormonal mêlée of the ages was raging through the car's interior quicker than the actual momentum of the external vehicle, which was close to dangerously fast.

Unknown to the five occupants of the Holden, there was also a battle in the night sky, which mysteriously would compound the energy of all their bodies under the looming high-arched bridge. The steel spans were locked in a tight formation but were not as compact as bodies would be in the moment of the traversing crossover of genital delight. The transfer of pleasure between locked, pressed and copulating anatomy.

Above the bridge, the earth's ionosphere was fighting to repel an onslaught of unrefined energy shot at the planet from the sun. The sights would unfold as the spectacular — Aurora Australis. Fallon's pussy and cute tight arsehole, equally impressive in their universal awesomeness, would splay their beauty across the back seat, the front seat and the bonnet in competition with the heavens.

But at the moment, as the car sped on, two separate hands started to rub her inner thighs, big Jackson on her left and muscle hunk Will on her right. As they touched her, it flashed through Fallon's mind how this had all started:

I was at the taxi stand after music tuition. No cab, but I was feeling terrific. I'd had it off with my randy old tutor, his son and his gorgeous niece, Gabby; her body fixed in my mind for next week. 

God, who should cruise past; Jarryn, my new fuckbuddy from after school today and his car full of boys; cruising. 

For what? 

Extra pussy. The duplicitous bastard.

The car did the obligatory doughnut, circled back, and stopped right in front of me on the rank:

Jarryn leaned over his front passenger, his best Cody, and through the window, he said to me:

"Fallon, come cruising," with cock pleading eyes.

What sort of girl did he think I was, a gangbang under-the-bridge tramp?

He repeated it, as I hadn't responded: "Fallon… Fallon… come cruisin."

A dirty boy pleading for girl whore candy.

I was thinking: probably with my pussy, not my head.

The back door of the Holden V8 was thrown open. 

There were four guys in the car. 

Would I get on the back seat between two of Jarryn's mates? 

The pricks, Jackson and Will, made a space for me.

I still hesitated. I will…I won't… Screw you, Jarryn. I'm not that slutty …four guys…four guys…Oh, for god's sake, girl… have a limit. 

Then: What are limits for? 

Jarryn was revving… here were revved-up boys looking for slutty girls… girl's plural.

There was only me… could I handle this…then I thought: Life needs one memorable big bang just like the frickin universe. And I clambered, squeezed between two guys on the back seat. Jarryn revved off, making for the hot spot under the bridge. 

Jarryn spun to a wheelie skid through the loose gravel deliberately in the darkest part of the bayside parking zone. Smut needs darkness, insists on murkiness, and craves the shadows for its most pleasurable deeds. 

Cody, the letch, turned to see how far Jackson and Will had got the action moving on the back seat. The pair were already feeling up Fallon before the car stopped. 

Jagging, thick fingers were wrestling her wet pussy lips apart under her panties. Her thin yellow dress, so summery flimsy, was flopped around her waist. Her tits were already being groped over the cups of her bra. 

Fallon needed space. The attention to her body, well, she couldn't get enough, but the trampette needed legroom, and the back seat wasn't providing it with two huge guys.

Jarryn, the prick, wanted to be sucked off, and he had dibs.

Fallon was, after all, he believed, his chick, well, as much as any guy can hope to say so, with a nympho. 

He leered in the rear vision mirror; 'his woman' was nicely aroused. 

"Guys, have a drink, Fallon come here," he said, thinking he was calling the shots.

Fallon scrambled over Will and out the door. The driver's door was open, and so was Jarryn's zip. 

His erect cock was being self-orchestrated for action like a gear stick. Fallon loved a big knob, and Jarryn had one. 

She bent over her current and new fuck buddy, well, from this afternoon, and gave head. Warm, enveloping, sucky, saliva-drenched head. Slurping along his shaft. 

Licking under his glans. 

Sucking his balls in turn. 

And Jarryn was lost in the cock wonder of deep-throat magic. 

Cody, the pervert, was watching in awe as Fallon delivered cock happiness. The poor bastard wished he had a girl who could suck his dick like this.

Jarryn heard Cody groan louder than his own precum moans and said in a generous mood, "Finger her arse, mate, while she sucks me off; she'll appreciate it."

Cody was around the car from the front passenger seat as quick as his first jizz explosion at seeing a porn clip.

Will and Jackson were swigging beer, yeah, jealous. Still, Jarryn was a pussy magnet, and they callously waited to accept slops, a creamed, slushed, already cum filled pussy, when out with their mate. They both knew Fallon's arse was probably out of bounds, well for cock, but their fingers, always a chance.

Cody was way out of his league, punching so far above his sexual weight; he was trembly as he fingered a perfect tight butthole flanked by faultless twin peachy hemispheres of flesh. As Fallon sucked cock, he took advantage of her arse to prise a second finger into her yielding yet unyielding flesh. He enjoyed participating with her body and intruding on Jarryn's and the slutettes main focus, cock.

Fallon loved the added intrusion. She wanted — it all —tonight. She was ready for a back door ransacking, and Cody wasn't disappointed. She was getting randy fast.

"Orrgh Fallon, you goddess, stop, or I'll lose it," said Jarryn. 

But not before one long last lingering cock knob vacuum suck from the princess of smut.

"Oh, be a doll, be my girl and suck poor Cody off, " he said, angling to dog his woman.

Fallon had Cody pressed against the side of the bonnet, his cock warmer in her mouth than his buttocks pressed against the car. The lad's cock in her mouth was the centre of his life and the purpose of his existence. Fallon was slurping and deep sucking along his so stiff pole. She gave the inexperienced prick extra care and attention, a head job to remember.

But what was really exciting to her was Jarryn ferreting with his fingers behind her, enjoying her arsehole and pussy together. Dredging through her girly flesh, rifling into her slutty slit, pressing over her clit and gaping wide her relaxed arsehole, two fingers into the knuckle.

Cody, the poor sod, without warning, apart from a sudden spasm jerk and a queer deep groan, off-loaded in Fallon's mouth. 

Inexperienced youth getting too much cock loving, too perfect.

"Oh, fondle her tits," said Jarryn as he eased into her warm, cock accommodating pussy from behind. 

Jarryn had his hands on Fallon's hips, thrusting into her slit but jerking up her whole body, semi-straightening her as she was cock impaled. 

He did the indecent; now I'm in your pussy, now I'm out, beg for it; you slut; action.

And Fallon did, "Fuck me, you bugger, fuck me, I know you can't keep your cock waiting."

Cody, Jackson and Will released her body from its dress, half off already and her tits hanging over her bra. Her bra popped open, too. 

Poor Cody took in her stunning free boobs for a moment, not daring to touch them, but Jackson and Will did, nuzzling into one each. 

While Cody got the surprise of his inexperienced sex life. A deep pash kiss from Fallon, including a gob swirl of his own cum back in his mouth, then transferred back to Fallon's, who swallowed it. 

Promiscuous definitely. 

Nymphomaniac certainly. 

Human female intent on sex, lots of sex; undeniably. 

Fallon wasn't denying her body anything; this was an exploration of the soul depth of every known sexual desire. 

And Jarryn, the prick, couldn't wait; his cock was again, without any temporary withdrawals, snooping and prowling in her so accommodating pussy.

Fallon's tits were a male flesh forage zone for Jackson and Will; God, they had focus and energy. The long-legged sylph of smut's mind and body were processing her nipples dual enjoyment, her sudden arse pilfering by Jarryn, as he swapped pleasure slots behind and between her legs.

Cody, the opportunistic bastard, was now working his fingers in her squelchy moist pussy. 

Jarryn was fortuitously soaring above the impossible choice of having to choose between her alluring cunt, her moist tight arsehole, and her cock beckoning lips. 

He got to fill them all.

Four guys were prowling with consent. Plundering her flesh for what they could get. Fallon was in it for what her flesh could get, too. 

This wasn't about respect or admiration for her actual female awesomeness. 

For the guys, it was a question of availability. 

Fallon was an available slut. 

But hell, she was goddamn beautiful. Her body was so alive and charged, glowing with energy like the emergent — Aurora Australis.

It was Jackson who risked his relationship with Jarryn; by stabbing his over-aroused cock into Fallon's slit from the front; while Jarryn was enjoying her super tight arse from behind her. 

Human sexual congestion saw Fallon yelping and straightening even more. 

"Hngh! Oof! Hngh! Oof! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!"

She loved the overcrowding of her most sensitive parts, her pussy and arse, which suddenly were nearly hugging each other. Her privately given pleasure resources joined in rutting happiness like a double ram raid. 

The front of the premises was battered, while the backdoor was slammed into simultaneously.

Fallon was guy wedged. 

Cock throttled her pussy and her arse was corked.

And Cody and Will were massaging her tits as they were jouncing and bouncing between Jackson's manic forward thrusting into her pussy. While Jarryn kept jostling his cock into her accepting bliss-filled arse. Her butt clamping around the nestling pressure of his pecker.

One female fully assailed. Her sweet, accepting body over groped. Fallon beyond the precipice. Beyond youthful experimentation. Deep in the darkest of dark insights into complete body liberation. 

Ego dominant, body defining, hedonistic, bacchanale and in the back of her mind, practice for centre stage stellar courtesan at a mansion orgy one day. 

Her body was a stirring celebration of double penetration.

Our leading lass of the night was getting what a girl shouldn't seek. 

Yet should seek because the limits of pleasure are not fixed. 

Just what we are capable of we must all individually look for. 

Fallon took it all, as it was exploding from inside her to her hot, flushed skin like a solar flare. She felt the pleasurable release of her first orgasm as Jackson creamed her pussy. 

Jarryn, the champion, was still enjoying her arse. And Fallon was, too. Jarryn was an arse bandit. He loved bum fucking. Above all, he was mesmerised by buggering sweet Fallon's comely arsehole.

Will, the dirty cunt, eased his raging cock into Fallon's cum filled pussy as soon as Jackson eased out. 

There is a fantastic guilty cock pleasure in coochie slops. 

He bulldozed straight into her accommodating acceptance. Our college girl felt the overt physicality of her body like she was wedged in naked —Twister — sex. 

No emotional, romantic bullshit attachments here. Body needs are a fundamental fact. Bodies taking, purely as a sex act. 

No protection, her arse taken bareback, her pussy thoroughly shaken and stirred. Cock filled and cum drenched like churned ingredients pulsating in a mix master. 

Delicious male skins on female skin — everywhere. 

This was highlighted by a rough but naturally insistent forceful dual infiltration. This was not a polite bedroom exploratory romp; it was primitive and powerful. It was played out in the shadows, trapped in earthy grubby dimness, yet open to the stars and as expansive and wondrous as the Southern Lights. Fallon's pleasure gradient was fanning to a sensational release.

Fallon's mind was close to deranged. Her body parts more than doing a job. They were performing for her. Her arse and pussy were in a synergy of bursting need. Sex for sex's sake and powerfully so. Her body was refilled with two cocks, while her tits were mauled, now with Jackson joining Cody. She hit the pinnacle where pleasure knotted with exquisite happiness. Shards of gratification like shooting stars all through her body.

She was caught in fucking good sex. Outrageous sex. Gang-Bang sex.

And so were all the guys.

But Fallon was beyond undignified. She was the unique, unifying attraction. The mayhem of total no-limits touch. Hands were pawing now all over her body. She was sweating profusely, and so were all the dudes. Everyone under the bridge's shadows was drenched in lust. 

Fallon, though, was both internally and externally hot. Her flesh was seared under constant groping and thrusting. The contours of pleasure inside her arse and pussy were so superbly intimate with two cocks.

The measure of pleasure is energy to burn and consume in orgasm. 

Fallon was ablaze internally. 

She knew it was a swelling, an entire body-sweeping orgasm building, and she worked it to the max. 

Clenching cock in her front and back. 

She screamed to the night sky as her body devoured her climax. 

"Oorrgghh!"

Bliss detonators racked her body. 

Her womanhood was completely sexually configured as the Southern Lights magically started to illuminate the night sky.

Will and Jarryn were climax jizz focused. Both craved release. 

Exertion fixated. 

Pounding for self into her amazing cavities, separate, yet in this together. Hard work for stunning male pleasure.

Fallon was in the euphoria of another astonishing long, crowded orgasm, effortlessly enjoying herself, her body over-committed, above what she could physically expect from her being. 

She was pushing every which way. She was being pulled inside and out. She was grinding. 

The two guys thrust, pummeled and pressed into her. Fallon was like an experienced wine taster: full savour, full flavour, bouquet, swill, lingering taste—she had it all. 

Her pussy was then tingling again, another petite new climax, like an earthquake aftershock. 

She still had two cocks at their buck-efficient prime. So goddamn serviceable in her. 

She was surprised her physical need remained unabashed. Primal carnal knowledge sought, sourced and used for added overload bodily enjoyment. 

Here was the thrill seeker's sex club. 

It's dominated by youth.

No fox and hound here. No hunter or prey. Lust dominates. Lust consummates itself in outrageously uninhibited self-exposed orgasms. Will and Jarryn filled Fallon's arse and pussy with jizz. 

Her mind and body entered a climatic climax entente. Fallon was aware of her own self, yet as she looked up, she was momentarily connected to the cosmos and its hallucinogenic display of fluorescent colours sweeping the night sky from the horizon. 

A southern beach suburbs girl under the Southern Lights. 

A beacon of pleasure swept through her. 

"Orrgh-ahh-aah-ooh!"

Her current sex — Magnus Opus.

Her body was as expansive as nature. 

The lights were on in Fallon and the lights were shared. 

When a woman really lets go in pursuit of multiple orgasms, you want to be in it with her, see it, experience it, and share the brain-searing memorable yelps of guttural moaning pleasure. Her effusive body gyrations, her fucking expressive glazed eyes, her bliss creased brow, her panting heaving chest, and her flushed sweat-lathered skin. 

The perfect multi-orgasm exists. 

Fallon had it, coursing like an expanding nebula through her body to its limits. 

Yes, it had its sated body limits. 

A female climax has, in the end, nowhere else to go. It was entirely an instance of internal self-combustion — Fallon's personal Krakatoa of an orgasm. 

Then finished, yet it was forever expanding unannounced and would continue to do so in her memory — as captivating and expansive in its recall — as the awesome Southern Lights.