Grapes, Groans & Group Moans

I never planned on turning a simple wine-tasting weekend into a full-on hardcore orgy, but that’s exactly what happened the night Lena decided the grapes weren’t the only thing that needed crushing.

We’d rented a sprawling Tuscan-style villa (me, Lena, her best friend Chloe, Chloe’s boyfriend Marcus, and two couples we barely knew but who looked like trouble the moment they walked in). Eight of us, one ridiculous wine cellar, and zero inhibitions after the third bottle of ’98 Cab.

It started innocently enough. Lena (my wicked little redhead) plucked a fat purple grape from the bowl, rolled it between her fingers, and smirked at me across the tasting table.

“Bet I can make someone groan louder than this wine ever could,” she said.

Chloe laughed, already tipsy. “Prove it.”

Lena’s eyes locked on mine. “Strip game. Loser of each round feeds the winner a grape (mouth to mouth). Clothes come off if you spill a drop.”

Twenty minutes later, every single one of us was naked. The marble floor was cold under my bare feet, the air thick with tannin and lust. Empty bottles rolled like bowling pins. Grapes were everywhere (some crushed under heels, some glistening on collarbones and breasts).

Lena crawled across the table on all fours, tits swaying, and stopped in front of me holding a single grape between her teeth. She didn’t speak; she just leaned in. I took it from her mouth with mine, bit down, and the sweet juice exploded across both our tongues. She kissed me hard, pushing the crushed fruit deeper, then pulled back with a wicked grin.

“Your move, baby.”

I didn’t need another invitation.

I grabbed her by the hips, spun her around, and bent her over the oak table. The others watched, breathing hard, cocks rising, pussies already slick. I dragged the head of my cock through her folds (once, twice) then slammed home in one brutal thrust.

Lena groaned loud enough to rattle the crystal glasses.

“That’s one,” Chloe whispered, eyes wide.

Marcus didn’t wait. He yanked Chloe down beside Lena, spread her thighs, and buried his face between them. Chloe’s back arched off the table, her moan joining Lena’s in filthy harmony.

Ava and Diego were already on the rug (her riding him reverse cowgirl, his hands bruising her hips while she ground down like she wanted to break him). Riley had Knox pinned against the stone wall, one leg hooked over his shoulder, taking him deep while she bit his neck hard enough to leave marks.

The room turned into pure chaos.

I pulled out of Lena just long enough to flip her onto her back, hooked her knees over my elbows, and drove back in so hard the table scooted an inch across the floor. Every thrust punched another cry out of her.

“Harder,” she gasped. “Fucking wreck me.”

I did. I fucked her like I hated her until her eyes rolled back and her nails raked bloody lines down my chest.

Beside us, Chloe was on her knees now, Marcus feeding his cock down her throat while Diego moved behind her and pushed into her without warning. Chloe screamed around Marcus (a wet, muffled sound that made my balls tighten).

“Switch,” Lena suddenly ordered, voice hoarse.

We didn’t ask questions.

In seconds the girls were rearranged: Lena straddling Ava face-to-face on the rug, both of them scissoring hard, clits grinding, tits bouncing as they kissed like they were trying to devour each other. I watched for half a heartbeat, then stepped up behind Lena and shoved back inside her from behind while she rode Ava’s pussy.

“Fuck yes,” Lena hissed. “Use me while I use her.”

Knox dropped to his knees in front of Ava and fed her his cock; she took it greedily, gagging herself on him while Lena kept grinding.

Marcus and Diego tag-teamed Chloe on the chaise (Marcus in her pussy, Diego forcing his way into her ass). Chloe’s whole body shook with every alternating thrust, her screams turning into one long, broken moan.

Riley crawled over to me, eyes glassy with need. “Don’t leave me out.”

I pulled out of Lena long enough to bend Riley over the table right next to Chloe. I took her in one savage stroke, then reached over and fisted Lena’s hair, dragging her into a sloppy three-way kiss while I pounded Riley so hard the table legs squealed.

The air was thick with sex (sweat, wine, crushed grapes, the wet slap of skin on skin). Someone came first (Riley, I think), her cunt clamping down on me like a fist, squirting all over my thighs and the marble floor. The sight set off a chain reaction.

Ava came grinding against Lena, screaming into her mouth. Lena followed seconds later, back bowing, pussy spasming around nothing now that I’d pulled out to watch her fall apart. Marcus roared and emptied into Chloe’s cunt; Diego pulled out and painted her back in thick ropes.

I wasn’t done.

I hauled Lena up by the throat, spun her to face the table, and kicked her legs wide. One hand between her shoulder blades pinned her down; the other lined me up. I slammed into her so hard her feet left the floor.

“Cum again,” I growled against her ear. “I want everyone to hear who you belong to.”

She did (Jesus, she did), screaming my name loud enough to wake the vineyards outside. Her orgasm ripped another one out of me; I buried myself deep and flooded her, pulse after pulse, until we were both shaking.

When I finally pulled out, cum and wetness dripped down her thighs in sticky rivers. She turned, grabbed a forgotten grape from the floor, and pushed it between my lips with a trembling smile.

“Best vintage yet,” she whispered.

Around us, the others lay sprawled and spent (bodies tangled, chests heaving, skin stained purple and red). Empty bottles, crushed fruit, and the thick scent of raw, hardcore sex everywhere.

We never did finish that tasting.