I knew they were quite stoned but they handled it incredibly well. Joan's fingers were very pleasant, not too much but extremely stimulating. I was hard as a length of pipe and now liquid was draining into the front of the panties, turning the think fabric transparent. Joan tickled the head of my cock absent-mindedly.

I think Christina heard my breath starting to grow uneven. She said, "Charley, we need another glass of wine. Just bring the bottle in here and fill them."

"Yes ma'am."

My cock was bobbing in front of me as I walked to the kitchen. The ladies' eyes followed me as they stared in silence. I returned with the green bottle and as I filled their glasses I made sure to stand so my dripping cock was within inches of each of their faces. My shyness had evaporated and now I was just enjoying the effect I had on them. This was a scene with no script, nobody knew what was supposed to happen, including me, but by this point I would have been happy if one of the ladies had taken me over the edge. A big explosive orgasm had worked its way up my list of priorities. In the meantime, teasing the shit out of them was fun. Marcie looked almost cross-eyed as my cock bobbed in front of her face. I poured her wine very slowly and carefully, and for a second I thought maybe she was going to take me in her mouth, panties and all. She had a sly little smile. When it was Joan's turn she reached up and gave me a friendly little tug, and when I got to Christina she let me fill her glass and then, studying the quivering erection an inch from her face, she said, "Mmm, that looks good." Maybe she meant the wine, and maybe not.

I put the wine away and came back and Marcie said, "My turn. Come sit on my lap now, Charley." Marcie was a skinny waif of a thing, and I was a little afraid I might hurt her but she seemed comfortable with me on her lap. She did not know what to do with her hand, and held it awkwardly against my ribs. Yes, the prude of the family.

The women chatted some more and then Christina said, "Marcie, are you going to give that man any attention, or what?"

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Do I have to show you?" The ladies burst into laughter.

Marcie said, "I'll figure it out." She placed her hand on my aching cock and began to stroke it timidly. Her fingertips felt wonderful, amazing, and I felt that I could sit there forever like that, with a beautiful woman stroking my rock-hard cock. Everyone seemed nicely relaxed, probably because they were stoned. My panties were getting soaked in the front. Marcie said, "What will we do if, you know, he shoots?"

The women all looked at each other. Joan said, "Well I guess that would be the end of it. Do you want that, Charley, do you want us to finish you off?"

I shrugged. I didn't want to spoil their fun, but I also was getting to a point where I might not last much longer. "I guess," I said. "If you want."

Right answer. They all gave me a smile, and Marcie began to double down on me. Christina said, "Hey go a little easy there. When he's done we're all done." Marcie lightened her touch and reached under to stroke my balls in the gentlest way. I was gushing into those pink panties.

The ladies chatted some more as if I wasn't there, with Marcie tickling me in the finest way. After a while, Joan grew quiet, and then Christina, and then Marcie. They sat there stoned at the table watching her fondle me. I was panting. My eyes were closed, my body was trembling feverishly.

Finally Joan spoke: "So, don't you think we should finish him off before we leave?"

"Good question," Christina said. "He definitely looks like he is getting close."

"How would we do that?" Marcie asked.

"I know," Joan said. "Let's put him on the table."

"Great idea. I can pull it out from the wall a little," said Christina. "Charley, clear the table please."

"Yes ma'am."

The glasses were empty, plates had nothing but crumbs. I took everything into the kitchen in two trips while the ladies scooted the dining room table out from the wall. It was a heavy oak heirloom, solid as a boulder and nearly as heavy but the women got it moved while I took the tablecloth.

I returned and they looked at me, and at the table. "Let me get a towel," Christina said. She left the room and returned with a towel and a pillow. She put them on the table and said to me, "Get up here."

I lay on my back on the table, naked except for the tiny silk panties that were now nearly entirely transparent in the front from my oozing fluids. My cock was sticking straight up at full length, trembling in its excitement, the clear fabric sticking to it as if I was wearing nothing.

"Well, what will we do?" Marcie asked. The three ladies spread out on both sides of me.

"I guess we can touch him," Christina said. I was surprised that she did not have a more explicit plan, but I think she wanted to draw this out a little longer.

"Can we use our mouth?" Joan asked.

Christina said, "Sure, use whatever you want but it is better if we can all be part of it."

"But he's all sticky," Marcie said.

Her sisters laughed at her. Joan said, "That's the best part."

"It is?" Marcie asked, not sure if they were pulling her leg.

"Especially when he explodes and there's a gallon of it," Christina said.

I closed my eyes as their hands began to touch my body tenderly and gently. First they stroked my chest and my legs but it was not long before I felt hands brushing against my straining cock. Soon I felt a mouth come down over the silk and engulf me. A voice said, "Try it," and another mouth sucked me. "See?" "Yeah, I see what you like about that." "Do it again." Again a mouth came down and sucked me through the silk, pumping up and down the length of my shaft. "Let me do it." Another mouth took me, this time a more expert flicking of the tongue on the head of my cock and its underside, teasing and torturing me.

"Let me see," a voice said, and the mouth rose off me. Then a gentle hand began touching my sensitive scrotum, tickling, like a spider walking across it, here and there unpredictably. Fingers began running up and down the side of my cock, then both sides, and I could feel it straining -- there is a feeling where it feels like the flesh could split, there is so much pressure, it is so hard it could just explode like a firecracker. But it never does.

Their hands fell into a rhythm. Someone's fingers were pumping my cock, somebody was tickling my balls, somebody was running a thumb or finger in the groove under the head of my cock. I was moaning. "This won't be very long," I said. The women had stopped talking. Their breathing was nearly as ragged as mine, as I lay on the table fully exposed while they, fully dressed, worked toward bring me to orgasm.

It was Christina who saw it coming. "Here he comes," she said, with laughter in her voice. "Don't stop. There she blows." My butt came up off the table. My arms reached out and swept up women on both sides of me, I didn't know who, and pulled them closer, and my penis was swarmed by loving hands. I felt the cum rise and shoot into the silk, wave after wave of the thick stuff, until finally the shots weakened and my body went slack.

"Stop now," Christina said. She was obviously the experienced one. My eyes were closed, dream-figures beginning to appear; I was distantly aware of the women leaning over me, studying me.

"Wow," Marcie said, as their hands withdrew. "I never saw anything like that before. Look at that mess."

"Yes, isn't it beautiful," Joan intoned. "It makes me want to slurp it all up. I'd like to fill a bathtub with that stuff and soak in it."

"We'll need more than one waiter for that," Christina's voice said. "But it's a good idea."

"I don't know," Marcie said.

Their hands returned to my body, stroking my chest and legs until my eyes opened again. I had a silly grin on my face, I'm sure. "Wow," I said.

"This was a good idea," Joan said. "Having a waiter. We're at my house next month, maybe I will get somebody." I felt a little surge of jealousy, which quickly passed. But really, every man should have his turn at this.