“Jules, are those your cousins?” Daphne asked, looking over Julia’s shoulder at the entrance to the grand ballroom.

Julia turned and looked behind her. “Yes, those red-headed weasels are the Culligan boys,” she said with a sigh.

“Aw, I think they’re cute!” Daphne laughed.

“Sure, if you haven’t had to deal with them at every family gathering for all nineteen years of your life.” Julia paused. “But I’ll introduce you to them if you like.”

“Now you’re talking! I don’t know anyone here,” Daphne pointed out. “But maybe one at a time; I’m afraid I wouldn’t remember their names if I met them all at once.”

“All right. There’ll be plenty of time tonight.”

Daphne Davenport had been best friends with Julia Culligan ever since they had met at Sacred Heart Academy for Girls seven years prior. The nuns had seated the girls alphabetically, of course, and their row had been Connelly, Culligan, Davenport, Dooley, Doyle... Nearly all of the girls were Irish Catholic; Daphne wasn’t Irish, and she certainly wasn’t Catholic. Her father had been raised Presbyterian and her mother had been raised Eastern Orthodox, which meant that Daphne hadn’t been raised with much religion at all. Her mother had an uncomfortable history with certain Hungarian Catholics but had no particular beef, corned or otherwise, with the Irish.

Any misgivings the sisters may have had regarding Daphne’s application for admission had been allayed by her excellent interview. Well, that and her father’s checkbook. Sacred Heart Academy provided a rigorous education but was pragmatic when it came to enrolling day students, who were welcome so long as they paid their tuition promptly and didn’t actively resist the religious instruction.

Daphne had spent her entire career at Sacred Heart seated behind Julia, craning her neck to see the chalkboard around the curls of flaming red hair that cascaded down Julia’s back. When Daphne had gotten her straight black hair bobbed the previous year, as was the fashion, Julia had refused to go along with it.

“Jules, I’m so glad you didn’t cut your hair when I did. It really is beautiful tonight.”

“I appreciate that. I know short hair is fashionable, but I didn’t want to make a mistake I would regret for years,” Julia replied. “Daph, your straight hair looks marvelous long or short, but I just don’t think it’s the right style for me.”

Daphne could see the logic in that. “I suppose you’re right,” she conceded. “It’s like my mother says: the flapper look is about having short hair and a flat chest, but…” Daphne waved a hand at both of their chests.

“But we don’t have flat chests,” Julia concluded with a twinkle in her green eyes. She was wearing a tight-fitting dress in a color that was nearly impossible to describe. Sage? No, too green. Champagne gold? No, too yellow. Mushroom perhaps, but with a faint metallic sheen. The dress was sleeveless with narrow shoulder straps, and it was tailored to cup each breast, with a tight bodice below. A large cream-colored Celtic knot design adorned each breast, with a larger circular knot design in the center of the bodice. The neckline swooped down to reveal the inner edge of her ripe bosoms.

She thought for a moment. “Daph, remember what you told me? About the New Year’s Eve party?”

Daphne snorted. “I told you a lot about that party.”

Julia laughed. “You sure did. But remember when you were frenching that waiter in the closet and he said he liked looking at your boobs?”

“I believe we referred to them as my tits, but yes.”

Julia rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. He liked looking at your tits. But the point is, men like what they like. Even if it’s all the rage to be flat chested, men are going to go crazy for your tits, Daph. So why try to be something you’re not?”

Daphne looked down at her own dress and had to concede the point. It was St. Patrick’s Day, and she had chosen a dress of emerald green for the occasion. It was a simple wrap dress with spaghetti straps and a narrow off-the-shoulder ruffle that gave a hint of a sleeve on each arm. Simple, yes, but the form of the wrap dress set off Daphne’s spectacular tits to full advantage. Her jewelry consisted of a golden beaded necklace and dangling beaded earrings, and a black headband with a feather in it completed her look. Her brown eyes were outlined with kohl, and her face was painted with rouge and bright red lipstick.

“Jules, are you sure I don’t look silly wearing green tonight? I’m not even Irish!”

“It’s fine, Daph. You’re a Sacred Heart girl, remember? I’d say that makes you seventy-five percent Irish already,” Julia said breezily.

“Well, if not seventy-five percent, then at least three-quarters,” Daphne deadpanned.

Julia shook her head in mock exasperation and turned to scan the crowd. A jazz quintet was playing Sweet Georgia Brown and clusters of people were dancing as the cornet and clarinet traded runs of the melody. A tuba was supplying the two-beat rhythm, and a banjo and trombone completed the ensemble.

“Oh, Daph, I see my grandmother.”

“Ugh, that battle-axe has had it in for me ever since I cut my hair.”

“Well, she’s headed this way. You’d better scram.”

“23 skidoo. I’ll meet you out back later for a ciggy.” As Daphne disappeared into the crowd, she heard Julia call loudly, “Why, Mamó, how are you!”

Daphne didn’t know anyone else her age at the party, it was true. She recognized many of the older people, however, because her parents rubbed elbows with New York City’s leading businessmen, politicians, and socialites. Her father, Harvey Davenport, was a professor of Economics at Columbia University who spent much of his spare time advising local, state, and national leaders on economic policies. Both the Irish Democrats who dominated New York and the Republicans who held sway in Washington respected his opinions; Commerce Secretary Herbert Hoover in particular was an old friend and colleague.

At that moment, Harvey and his wife Delilah were on the far side of the room sampling some whiskey. “Powers Gold Label,” Harvey read from the bottle. “Oh, this is excellent. Darling, give it a try.”

“No thank you, dear.” Delilah almost stuck her tongue out in disgust but stopped herself in time. “Whiskey always makes my tongue feel fuzzy, like this.” She indicated the gray woolen shawl draped over her shoulders. “Actually worse, like a dusty old carpet.” Beneath the shawl, she wore a simple dress of the same brilliant green as her daughter’s, with narrow shoulder straps but no sleevelike adornments. Her black hair was bobbed and framed with a headband adorned with a feather.

Harvey nodded, raised his glass in a silent toast, and drained the rest of it. “I think I see Daphne’s friend Julia; should we go say hello?”

“Later,” replied Delilah as she followed Harvey’s line of sight. “I don’t want another earful from Grandma Culligan about Daphne’s hair and face paint.”

“Fair enough,” Harvey chuckled. “Let’s find you something else to drink. Preferably not that egg whites and coconut abomination from New Year’s Eve.”

“Oh, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that,” Delilah admitted. “For a few weeks now.” She cleared her throat and pressed on. “The truth is…” she leaned closer to whisper in Harvey’s ear.

Meanwhile, across the room, Julia and her grandmother chatted pleasantly for a few minutes before Julia excused herself. “I’d like to get a little something to eat, Mamó. Would you care for anything?”

“No thank you, Julia. I can’t abide holding a plate while I’m standing up. May St. Patrick watch over you.”

“And may St. Patrick watch over you,” Julia replied, kissing her grandmother on the cheek. Julia began to make her way towards the food tables but then swerved, exited the ballroom, and descended the grand staircase. It was a relatively warm evening for mid-March, and she decided that it might raise suspicion if she went to get her coat before meeting Daphne outside. Following the main corridor towards the rear of the building, she reached the rear exit and quietly pushed open the door and stepped outside into the cool night air.

Two young men snapped to attention hiding their hands behind their backs, then relaxed.

“Gosh, I thought you were Mr. Travers!” the shorter one exclaimed.

“Do I look like a Mr. Travers?” Julia retorted.

“No, but…” he trailed off, realizing that he might be drawn into a battle of wits for which he was insufficiently armed.

Julia glanced at their clothes, which were obviously waiter’s uniforms, and said “Are you fellas working upstairs tonight?”

“Yes, we came down for a smoke,” the taller one said, bringing his hand from behind his back to reveal a smoldering cigarette. “Jeez, Bob, you’ve got the heebie-jeebies about Mr. Travers. Always thinking he’s lurking around the corner.”

“Well heck, Peter, ever since New Year’s–”

Julia interrupted. “Hold on a minute. You two are Bob and Peter?”

“Yes?” Bob said tentatively, unsure of the significance.

“And what’s this about New Year’s?” Julia demanded.

Peter and Bob looked at each other. “Uh, s-same as tonight. We snuck out for a smoke,” Peter offered.

“Oh, applesauce, don’t lie to me! You two were getting your dicks smoked in a broom closet!” Julia declared triumphantly.

The two men stared at Julia with their mouths wide open. “Wh-what–” Peter spluttered.

“It’s all right, fellas,” Julia laughed. “Daphne told me all about it. Bob, I believe Daphne was frenching you, and her mother was frenching you, Peter. Or have I got that mixed up?”

Bob was the first one to recover. He blinked a couple of times. “No, you had it right.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. "Okay, doll, so you know us,” he sneered. “Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m Julia. Say, can I get a drag off that ciggy?”

Peter handed it over. Julia took a puff and handed it back. She exhaled and said, “Now I won’t notice your cigarette breath when you kiss me.”

Peter’s tough guy attitude vaporized and his eyes shot open. “Wh-when we k-kiss…” he fumbled.

“You heard the lady,” Bob interrupted. Stepping forward, he took her head in his hands and gave her a long, slow kiss. As he pulled away, Julia leaned forward, trying to prolong the contact between their lips and nearly losing her balance.

“Mmm, dreamy,” she said softly. “Think you can top that?” she challenged Peter.

“I’ll certainly give it the old college try,” he responded. He extended his right hand and placed a knuckle of his index finger under Julia’s chin, then gently lifted to tilt her head up. He gave her a kiss that began delicately, then grew more passionate. His left arm wrapped around Julia’s waist, and she leaned into him, pressing her chest against his.

As Peter and Julia broke off their kiss, she stepped back and gave each of them a stern look. “You know, I just remembered something else about you two.” Peter and Bob looked at each blankly. What else could there possibly be?

“I heard that you both like…” Julia took a small step forward.

“Nice.” Another step.

“Hot.” Another step.

“Tits.” Julia looked down at her cleavage and then, biting her lower lip, looked back up at Peter and Bob.

"Yes, we do!”

“Yes indeed!”

“All right then. I missed the New Year’s Eve party, so we’re going to have a party of our own right now. I want to suck your cocks until you both cum on my tits. Any objections?”

The boys were already tearing their flies open and whipping their pants down to their ankles. Their dicks were at half-mast but growing rapidly.

Julia’s lip curled in amusement. “No objections, then. Ah, could one of you lend me your coat to kneel on?”

Bob laid his coat on the ground with a flourish. Julia knelt down and looked into the eyes of the two cockheads pointing at her face. “You know, I’ve never done two at once before,” she mused. “Where should I start?”

Peter blurted “It doesn’t matter, just p-pick one!”

Julia wrapped her fingers around each pulsating prick and began stroking them slowly. “Well, I do have two hands. That’s a good place to start.”

Peter’s cock began oozing pre-cum. Julia leaned closer and fluttered her tongue below his slit, tasting the sweet nectar. He exhaled and leaned back against the wall. Julia brought her hand up to the head of Peter’s cock and rubbed her palm on his oozing piss hole. Using the pre-cum for lubrication, she slid her hand down the length of his shaft as Peter groaned.

Turning her attention to Bob, Julia tickled the split underside of his helmet with her tongue. She continued stroking Peter’s cock while swirling her tongue around Bob’s engorged head. Bob grunted his approval, and Julia slipped her mouth over the crown and gripped the head of his cock gently with her soft lips. Bob felt as though he was floating in the air, like a Zeppelin tethered to the ground only by Julia’s warm mouth on his cockhead. If he slipped his moorings, he felt he might never touch the Earth again. He placed a hand atop her head to steady himself, and she plunged her lips down his shaft. Unaccustomed to working two dicks simultaneously, she took her left hand off Peter without thinking and placed both hands on Bob’s thighs as she gorged herself on his rock-hard cock.

Peter watched Julia’s beautiful face sliding up and down, her fiery red hair bouncing in rhythm. He moved closer, took a handful of her long hair, and wrapped it around his dick. He then started stroking his cock, fucking Julia’s soft red curls, moaning in ecstasy.

Julia released Bob’s cock with a quiet popping sound and looked at Peter’s activity out of the corner of her eye. “Don’t cum in my hair, okay? That would be hard to explain to everyone when I go back inside.”

Peter nodded to indicate that he understood, and continued beating his dick with Julia’s lovely locks. Julia lazily stroked Bob’s cock for a moment, then cleared her throat. “I want to try something.”

Peter opened his eyes and slowed his humping to a halt. Releasing her hair, he glanced at Bob, who shrugged and raised his palms. Who knows?

“Now, Daphne told me that on New Year’s it was just one on one; she didn’t touch Peter and her mother didn’t touch Bob. Yes?” Bob and Peter nodded, and Julia continued. “Well, I want to suck both of your cocks together, at the same time. What do you think?”

“I think that’s a great idea.”

“No argument here.”

Julia gave them a tart smile and put a hand on each of their hips to push them together. “Your cocks will be touching each other, you know.”

“We’ll take our chances.”

Julia shifted on her knees to readjust the coat underneath her. Then taking a cock in each hand, she guided them to her open mouth. It was difficult to find a good angle that allowed both of the boys’ cocks to approach her mouth from the same direction. She managed to get both crowns inside, and a little bit of the shafts.

Julia wasn’t quite sure what to do next. She closed her eyes and swirled her tongue around in her mouth, figuring that wherever it went, it was likely to make contact with somebody’s cockhead. The noises she heard from the boys indicated that there were no complaints. The sound of their moaning and the taste of their salty dicks was intoxicating, and she wanted to savor the moment for as long as possible. Placing a hand on each boy’s ass, she pressed them closer to each other and to her, allowing her to advance her plush lips a couple more inches down each shaft. Increasing the suction in her mouth so that her cheeks sank in, she slid her head backwards, then plunged forwards again, then back again, then forward, slowly building up to a steady rhythm.

Bob was the first one to lose control. The sight of this stunning Irish beauty impaling her mouth with two cocks was too much for him to handle. Who were these society girls and why were he and Peter so lucky? The tips of his ears were on fire, and the heat spread like wildfire down his back and arms. He realized the volcano was about to erupt but reacted too late. He shot two quick streams of lava into Julia’s mouth before he managed to pull out and drop two more thick shots down the front of her dress.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” he apologized. “I ruined your dress!”

Peter had pulled out as well, allowing Julia a moment to swallow Bob’s cum and assess the damage. She looked down at the bust of her dress with her brow creased.

“I think it will be okay if we can get a napkin and some soda water,” she decided. “And look, you did manage to get a little bit on my tits.” One of the cumshots had straddled the edge of the cup of her dress and grazed her right breast.

Turning to Peter, Julia started sucking his cock at a frenetic pace. Within a minute, he was ready to go. He pulled his cock out of Julia’s mouth, aimed it at her sternum, and let fly with three powerful blasts of cum that dripped straight down her chest, with one of them sliding into the crevice between her heavenly boobs.

As the boys helped her up, Julia stumbled a bit because her legs were falling asleep, and also because the people helping her up had their pants around their ankles. Just then, they heard the door open and all three of them froze.

“Jesus Christ, Jules!” Daphne exploded.

“Daph!” Julia exclaimed with relief. “Look, I found your friends Peter and Bob.”

“Hi, Daphne,” both of them said with a sheepish grin.

Daphne looked at the rivulets of slick cum dripping down Julia’s chest and shook her head in disbelief. “You fellas must really love working these parties.”

Peter and Bob grinned as they pulled up their pants and began tucking in their shirts.

“But Jules, you’re a mess. Let me help you get cleaned up.” Daphne took hold of Julia’s hair and pulled her head back, exposing her long, pale neck. Daphne then ducked and ran her tongue up Julia’s cleavage, licking up the longest of Peter’s cum blasts. Julia emitted a faint moan. Swallowing the salty cum, Daphne then licked up the remaining two trails and smacked her lips. “Delicious! Who was that?”

Peter spoke up. “Uh, that was me.”

“I’ll have to tell Mother!” Daphne laughed.

Bob pointed to Julia’s bodice. “That’s me down there.”

Daphne flashed a wicked smile and proceeded to slurp the two fat ropes of cum off Julia’s dress as best she could. “Yum, that’s as good as I remembered,” she said while licking her lips.

“Bob and I can get you that soda water for your dress,” Peter offered.

“And a napkin,” added Bob, picking up his coat and shaking it out. “Back in a flash!”

The two waiters hurried inside, and the two girls watched them go. Daphne felt a bit light-headed; she had spent twenty minutes roaming around the party with nothing to do but sip champagne, losing track of time and the number of drinks she had, but the chill of the night air was sharpening her senses.

Julia turned to Daphne. “Daph, Bob also came in my mouth a little bit. Do you–”

Daphne cut her off with a smoldering kiss. The two girls’ lips opened and their tongues thrashed against each other, sharing the residual cum back and forth. After a moment, Julia pulled away, her eyes glittering. Daphne looked Julia up and down. “Well, Miss Culligan,” she declared. “You certainly have had a busy evening!”

“Don’t I know it,” Julia laughed, linking Daphne’s elbow with her own. “And the night’s still young. Now, let’s go back inside. I’m freezing!”