He let go of my hair, and I lay my head back down on the bed. Garvey grabbed the neck of the bottle, and moved it around in circles, churning the body of the bottle around in my pussy. It was an interesting sensation, and maybe it was just because I was feeling pretty damned slutty, but the little bit of pain and discomfort just made me even more excited. I wondered if he was going to at least fuck me with it a little bit, or was just going to wiggle it around in me.
Apparently just stuffing it up me was enough for him, because after a few more slow circles with the top of the bottle, he pulled it out. At least he did it slowly.
The beer bottle was just the warmup — although it had been far from warm — and as I’d feared, he was anxious to move on to the champagne bottle.
The beer bottle had actually gotten me excited enough, and loosened me up enough that I was kind of curious to see how far my wet pussy would let him get, even though I knew it wasn’t going to fit. Yes, I’m aware that when sexy pain get’s me into “slut mode”, it just makes me want more sexy pain. That’s one of the reasons Eric was concerned that I have some good pre-defined rules that applied to my parties.
At least it’s not cold, I thought, as he pressed the wide bottom edge of the bottle between my pussy lips, just the way he had started with the beer bottle. He rubbed it up and down before centering it on the opening between my lips.
Damon said, “Here, at least add some lube.” He handed a bottle of lube to Garvey, as he rolled his eyes, which I saw but Garvey didn’t. I couldn’t decide if I appreciated him making sure things were plenty slippery, or if I was annoyed that he was prolonging things by humoring the guy.
Garvey squirted lube on my pussy, and on the bottom of the bottle, then replaced the bottle between my legs and got back to trying to work it into me. He wasn’t a complete idiot, so he realized that if it had any chance of working, he needed to give my pussy time to relax and stretch. He maintained a constant pressure, not hard enough to actually hurt, but firm enough to let my hoo ha know that something was trying to fit inside, and it should do its expanding thing.
After a minute or two, he actually had what felt like almost half of the circumference of the bottle’s bottom wedged inside me. Getting impatient, he started pulling on the opposite pussy lip, and pressing a little harder. I yelled into the ball-gag, which startled him, and he let up for second, but quickly resumed with possibly even more effort.
This sequence repeated a few more times over the next couple of minutes, with him pulling and prying, me yelling when he pulled or pushed too hard, and a disappointing amount of progress being made, judging by the expression on his face.
Damon said, “Uh, Garvey, that’s just not going to fit.”
Garvey set his jaw, and maintained, “I’ve seen pictures.”
“Ok, yeah, I’m sure you have. But Tawny here has a nice tight little pussy. I’m surprised you were able fit that beer bottle up her. I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure that the girl who can take a champagne bottle in her snatch, and the girl who can squeeze your dick with it are two different girls.”
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