Pervert picnic on the labor day

The summer was ending and Ken hadn’t been to a _DiSH_ social event since the Memorial Day Picnic a few months ago. That day was one of the most memorable events in his recent life. He had joined one of Amy’s risqué games and had ended up with Jenna, the group’s sexpot (every college class, company department, and social group seemed to have one for some inexplicable reason), sitting on his face while catching and throwing water balloons. Afterward, Jenna had dragged him into the woods and had her steamy way with him. Then she coldly brushed him off as they were parting ways at the end of the day.

This time, Amy had invented a new pool game called _Key Grab_ where one person had to hide a key somewhere on their body while the others had to extract the key any way they could and then hide it on _their_ body. It was understood that no external body part or organ was off limits either for hiding the key or for grabbing it. The game fizzled when all the men, but only a couple of the women joined in.

Ken grabbed a burger and found an empty chair to just sit in and watch the clouds roll past.

A little later, Amy called everyone together for another game of balloon toss. That was the game that put Jenna sitting on his face last time.

Like last time, Amy had lain a bunch of beach towels in a circle on the ground and had started describing the next game as people walked up, “For the balloon toss, I want all the men to lay on the towels on their backs in a circle with their feet facing the middle.”

_What the hell,_ Ken thought to himself and, again, lay on a towel.

“Guys,” Amy continued, “most of you remember the rules from last time. You must keep your hands behind your back at all times.” She handed each man one of those Chinese finger traps. “You don’t have to use these, but you can use these to make sure that you don’t accidentally lose by moving your hands out from under your backs.”

Ken put the tube onto one thumb, then the other behind his back, and then lay back down. He knew from last time that the trap was inescapable.

“Now for the fun part,” Amy continued. “Women, pick a man and sit on his face facing the center. Put your legs on his body, your feet can’t touch the ground. Go ahead, take your seats!” she urged.

Also, like last time, only about ten women chose to play, and none took a seat on his face. Jenna had even returned to the game, sitting on another guy’s face this time. Ken wondered how many used rubbers she would leave behind in the woods _this_ day. The unused guys started getting up to leave and he was about to walk away too. Ken leaned up on his elbows when a shadow fell across his eyes.

“Brenda!” Ken muttered.

“Is this seat taken?” she asked. Last picnic, Brenda had asked him to be her partner in this event, but Jenna had beaten Brenda to him while Brenda was refreshing her soda.

“Nope, have a seat,” he offered and lay back down.

Brenda, in not-too-tight and not-too-loose jeans, and in a conservative billowy top, lowered her ass onto his face. As she settled on him, his skull suddenly felt like a padded anvil was crushing it.

He heard Amy say, “Put your legs up on him.” Then he felt her rest her legs on his chest placing her heels in his crotch. Unlike Jenna, Brenda didn’t milk his cock with her heels while she sat on him. Still, he got a huge erection from the sensation.

Also, unlike Jenna, Brenda was leaning back to let him breathe without pause. The sensation wasn’t as erotic as with Jenna, but it was far more pleasant.

Amy announced, “The contest is simple. I’m going to throw this water balloon at someone. You have to catch it without it breaking and throw it at someone else. If you get wet, you’re out and I’ll throw another balloon into the ring. This time, the winners get a free dinner for two at _Le Buse Et Crachat.”_

“Ohhh!” all the women crooned in unison, “That one’s even more expensive than that other French restaurant!”

“And even more exclusive!”

“You have to wait _months_ for a reservation!”

“Okay everyone,” Amy declared, “Get ready! Catch!”

Ken heard Amy throw the balloon and heard someone catch it and toss it to someone else. After a few rounds, Brenda bounced on him as she caught the balloon and then she squirmed as she tossed it to someone else. The balloon was caught a few more times before he heard a _sploosh!_

“You’re out, Kathy!” Amy announced.

“Here’s another!” Amy called out and heard the balloon being tossed around again. Ken felt Brenda bounce on his face again as she caught it and tossed it. The balloon remained in play for a while and Brenda bounced in his face a few times before he heard a _sploosh_ and Amy announce, “You’re out, Jenna!”

Ken wanted to yell, “Whoohoo!” into Brenda’s crotch, but didn’t know what her reaction would be.

The game went on and on. Brenda bounced on his face countless times as more and more women lost.

As was becoming routine, he heard a _sploosh_ as Amy called out, “You’re out, Sandy! And we have a winner!”

_How could there be a winner?_ Ken wondered. _Brenda is still sitting on my face!_

“Brenda and Ken, here’s your gift certificate for a dinner for two at _Le Buse Et Crachat.”_

Brenda stood off Ken’s face and took the gift certificate from Amy. Ken stood next and Brenda gave him a bear hug, saying, “We won!”

“Yeah, we won! Oh, and can you remove this thing from my thumbs?”

Brenda walked behind him and removed the Chinese finger trap from his thumbs. Then they walked over to the grill together and grabbed a couple of hamburgers and sat and talked for about an hour.

Ken was sitting by himself for a moment while Brenda had to go to the ladies room, and Jenna walked over. She knelt next to his chair and whispered, “Hey, lover, feel like taking another walk into the woods and tearing off another piece?”

“Fuck off!” he answered.

Jenna stormed off in a huff, and Ken was glad that she was long gone when Brenda returned from the ladies room.

Ken and Brenda sat and talked together the rest of the afternoon. When the day was winding down and people were starting to leave, Brenda said, “I guess it’s time to call it a day.”

They walked together to the dirt lot where their cars were parked as people were pulling out.

“Well?” she asked.

“Well, what?” he asked.

“Aren’t you going to ask for my number?”

“I… uhm… I’m not sure. The last time I asked for someone’s number, she turned and walked away from me.”

Brenda grimaced and pulled a pen and notepad out of her purse. She wrote something down and handed a slip of paper to Ken. “I didn’t spend an hour sitting on your face winning us a free dinner at the most expensive restaurant in town for nothing. I’ll be waiting for your call.”

Then she gave him a quick kiss on the lips and strode off to her car.

Ken didn’t even remember getting in his car and driving home that day.