Page 216 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
I inwardly made a joke to myself that Legacy must have made the condoms, because they were really good at breaking, hence the inner beast living inside me, wanting to awake and disturb everyone’s fun.
“You really are, way to jiz,” I said.
After cucumber carving, which was won by one of Delaney’s coworkers, Madge, we played pin the penis on Derk. What I thought was going to be a quick game turned into a selfie opportunity for every woman. Beelzebub was really itching to free itself at that point in time. I excused myself and dove into a pile of cocktail wieners, basking in the smoky flavor. Now we were riding the penis and Delaney refused to fall off.
If that penis was a piece of clothing, she would be its static cling, never falling off, despite the “jiz” raining down on her. Every once in a while she would yell out a “yippee” or a “hazzah” over her triumph of the penis’s twists and turns.
Despite the time she was eating up riding the giant cock, I had to admit how impressive it was to see her hang on for dear life. She was inebriated from Cum Guzzlers, she wore a condom on her leg, and her dress rode up her backside, exposing her crack for everyone to see. She must have known that was going to happen because her thong matched her outfit perfectly. The girl always focused on the details, good for her.
“Hazzah,” she shouted again, after holding on through a big jerk.
I glanced at the attendant of the machine and noticed he was starting to get frustrated. So was I, so I took matters into my own hands. I walked nonchalantly over to the attendant and said, “This five-dollar bill right here is all yours if you turn that dick up to the highest setting and blast her off the damn thing.”
“That’s a piece of celery,” the man said, looking at my “five-dollar bill.”
I nodded. “I’m aware. Please make this end.”
“My pleasure.”
With a devious smile on his face, he cranked the dial up to the hardest level, and with one jerk to the side, Delaney went flying into the side of the ring, condom rolling off her leg and slapping Madge right in the face.
“My condom,” Delaney groaned. “Damn you, Madge.”
Before things could get out of hand, I took the condom from Madge and handed it over to Delaney, while I helped her out of the penis riding pit.
“I think that’s enough riding for now. How about we settle down for a second, take a breather, and maybe just talk about the wedding.”
“Never,” Delaney chanted, “Bring the dong. Bring the dong.”
As if it was an Egyptian Prince being carted out on a gold throne, four women held the dong bong above their head and escorted it to Delaney.
I hated that I’d bought the stupid thing now. All I wanted to do was get to the piñata and then go home; I was tired, irritable, and ready to try to begin my erotic plan on Henry.
But instead, I was watching the four women unwrap a funnel from the package, which happened to be connected to a tube that turned into a plastic penis with an opening big enough for liquid to flow through.
“Line up, ladies. We’re going to create a domino effect. We need a constant holder and pourer. The rest of you, get in a line and face the dong. We’ll run up and down the line while the cum drink flows out. Open your mouths wide; it’s time to get dong-bonged.”
I watched from a distance as everyone listened to her, lined up, put their hands behind their backs and opened their mouths. Three ladies volunteered to be the holder of the dong and the pourer. The kitchen staff was on point and had pitchers ready to be poured down the dong funnel. What were they thinking? This entire night didn’t even feel real.
“On three,” Delaney shouted. “One, two, three. Guzzle!”
The signature drink was poured into the funnel and the penis hose part was run up and down the line, splashing everyone in the mouth. If I wasn’t completely sober or had a child growing inside me, would I have enjoyed such a game?
Alcohol poured everywhere, bouncing off faces and chests, and I knew the answer. I wouldnotenjoy this game . . . at all.I pity the cleaners of this event. I hoped they didn’t charge double.
While they tried out the dong bong, I talked to the kitchen staff about raising the giant penis. Just two more things, the piñata and the stripper, who’d arrive shortly, so I was trying to move the party along.
The staff was kind enough to help me raise the piñata on one of the exposed beams. I told them we wouldn’t need to have to anyone move it around. Given the amount of alcohol consumed already, they would have a hard enough time making contact.
I made a circle around the well-hung penis—no pun intended—and escorted ladies around it. Delaney walked over to the piñata, the penis tube detached from the funnel was now fastened around her neck like a piece of jewelry.
“Don’t you just love my delicate necklace? It’s so delicate, isn’t it?” she asked while showing off her gem, as if she was selling it on QVC.
“Just divine,” I said, humoring her.
Sticking up from her cleavage was Cletus, the miniature blowup doll I bought her. She’d aptly named him Cletus, since he’d spent the entire night stuffed between her boobs. He’d helped her carve, pin, and when she wasn’t clinging on for dear life to the giant penis, she had waved him around in the air like a lasso. Just as I suspected, Cletus made her night.
“If everyone can gather around before we get started with the piñata, that would be great.” No one listened to me. “Everyone listen up,” I shouted a little louder. Nope, that didn’t help. “Hey cumquats!” I screamed, startling everyone. I cleared my throat. “Thank you. I want to remind you all the, uh . . . authorities will be here shortly to arrest Delaney for being a very naughty girl.”
