A young man engages in sex with 31 different women before fallling into the dark, gay underworld.
“I didn’t do anything to you,” Stevie said. “At least, nothing you didn’t want done.”
What was he saying?
I didn’t want any of it done. Any of it.
“I know you feel all goofy inside, because you are a straight guy. But man, you were begging for it.”
I moved off the wall. I was ready to hit this prick.
He stalled me with his next words.
“You watched the movie right? Did you ask me for it? Did you ask me to fuck you?”
I cringed as his words rang around the small room. These were words in a conversation two guys should never be having. I sat back against the wall and sipped on my drink. It was half gone. The confusion thing was back. With numbness in my mouth and tongue. I felt a need to talk to this kid. To communicate with him. I was feeling a strange sense of...not sure what the word was.
This scrawny little bitch had something working for him. He had the stones and skills to use and abuse me. Kudos to him for taking on the beast, and winning. I guess the word might be, respect.
What an idiot I was. Beat this punk down and leave. Stop with the pointless interrogation and discussion.
It was hard to think clearly. Harder now, being back in the belly of the sick beast. I could sense the booze and drugs flowing all around me. The smells of pot and poppers, and incense and sweat and cum. The rutting, the coupling, the heated hard passion of men having sex with men. Battling, struggling and ascending to domination. Some men in triumph, some men in tears, wishing they had never been born. Some men begging for the abuse, begging to be destroyed, confirming their own worthless existence on the planet. The thought processes we all grew up with in the safe, daytime world were severely altered when you stepped into the underground.
I had watched the video how many times?
Yes, I know ‘Fuck me please’ will be forever etched in my mind. I had asked for it. I knew he was speaking the truth. I also knew he baited me into speaking those exact words. Choreographed me. Setting me up. Hammering my brain. Then my body. Then his lips on my cock, bringing me to full surrender.
“Davey, we were in your room. You were all over me. What am I supposed to do? You were so horny. You made me horny. I didn’t care who fucked who. I wanted you to fuck me. But dude, you begged me for it. It was awesome. I came hard, a freight train running hot. Holy shit, so did you! I have never seen a guy cum like you did. Never. How could that happen if you weren’t totally into it? Totally into me? Anyway, the best I could get from you was to eat up your delicious cum.”
Stevie ran his tongue over his thick bottom lip.
Replaying the moment?
Obviously, a good moment for him.
I provided the moment?
The tingling was back.
I was nibbling on the orange slice and chewing on an ice cube, flitting with a strange sense of euphoria. Then flitting back to this dirty little fag room. I was trying to find a lie in what Stevie was saying. Damn sakes. I couldn’t. Everything he said was true. With video evidence to back it up. Case closed, dick brain.
“Okay,” I said. “Then what gives with the punching? The choking? Kind of severe, no?”
“Yeah, I apologize. When I start into it, I lose all control. I completely let go. Let it rip. An animal. My brain shuts off and nature or survival or something primitive takes over. But fuck. It works. Remember, this place is where people come to be abused. Or dominated. Or to do the opposite. You can’t come in here without expecting it. That’s the appeal of the place, why it’s so busy. All the time. It never closes here. Never. There are guys who come in here, fuck, they will let you do things to them you couldn’t imagine.”
Stevie was a good talker. He made sense. He spoke truths. Disgusting truths.
The room seemed to be changing in brightness. Lighter, then darker. The mirrors were definitely playing havoc with the light. The mad, multiple reflections were going to drive me crazy if I stared hard enough. I took a bite on the orange slice, removing the pulp completely, swallowing it. Stevie chugged half of his beer. He held the bottle up for me to see.
“This is number six tonight. Six. With six more to go. I am going to get good and hammered. Then you can do whatever you want with me. Fuck me. Beat me. Choke me. Kill me. I don’t care. Whatever you want. I have been thinking about you the past few weeks and I feel bad. I didn’t know you were new to this. What I mean is, I didn’t know you were completely straight. I thought you were, when we first met in the bar, but shit, you changed fast. I have never seen a break like the one you made. Straight guy becomes horny bottom in record time. You must be a damn chameleon. The guys who come in here, they might be rookies or first timers, but they are all hard core, you know? Hard core gay.”
I was having trouble keeping up to his fast talking.
He was going to let me what?
Did he say kill him? Did he?
Beat him? Choke him?
The stirring moved into my cock.
Choke the scrawny bitch. I envisioned my hands around his neck. His leather legs and big boots kicking in terror. No way to get out of it. Me not letting go. Me, much too powerful.
It was the beer talking for him. A typical young punk drinking too fast. Okay I thought, we are getting somewhere. The guy feels bad. He is drinking a lot. He is giving up his control. I can certainly balance the scales with him tonight. Big time. This is the beauty of these little rooms. I could even up this punk on the blow job, rip his ass to pieces, then punch his head in. Wow. One, two, three. The head punching would actually put me over the top. Good stuff. Crank up the music and cover all the sounds. A damn good plan.
But I wasn’t here for even up.
Why was it now part of the plan?
Opportunity arising, so take advantage?
The way Stevie had, on night one? When the straight guy stumbled into the gay bar, piss drunk? And then proceeded to get drunker? And then night two? When the straight guy who should have known better, made his return visit?
Stevie, the supreme opportunist.
I regretted for a second, I should have worn my gear. Strap it on and dominate this fucker good. Then pound him in the face. Turn out his lights. Moron. Yes, I should have worn my gear. I let the moment pass. I might as well see the stupid second floor, but first, pump shit-brains Stevie for more info about the tattoo on my ass.
“What about the tattoo?”
Stevie looked confused.
“What tattoo?” he asked.
Mentally I was on edge. The rest of me was starting to relax. My muscles and body began to drift. This night was not going to be the small deal I had planned. This night was going to be much bigger. I stood and slipped my jeans off my left hip. Pulled my briefs up, baring my ass cheek. There it was. I could see it in the mirror wall. The tattoo had settled and actually looked, not bad.
“Holy fuck! Are you serious?” Stevie said. “When did that happen?”
“You did it, didn’t you?”
I knew he had, or at least, had something to do with it.
Stevie looked incredulous.
A good actor?
“Fuck no. I sure as hell didn’t.”
What a liar I thought. Son of a bitch.
“After we finished, I left the room and locked your door behind me. Went for a shower. When I got back, you were gone. Your clothes were all gone. I thought you went home.”
“How could I leave this room, how could I go home when you choked me out, fucknuts?”
I could see beads of sweat running down Stevie’s chest. I leaned forward again and peeled of my shirt. Because it was damn hot in the room. A tapping on the door broke the moment. We looked at each other. Stevie put his finger to his lips and stood. Motioned me to stay still. What was the intrigue?
Stevie steps to the door and opens it. He is whispering to someone in the hallway. I notice his bulging crotch only inches from my face. The sensation of euphoria is tugging at me again. I feel if I work it hard enough, I could float away. I can envision my bulging leather crotch in some chicks face. Or Stevie’s face. My hand begins to move towards him. I am saved when Stevie steps back and closes the door. He has two more bottles of beer.
He offers one to me. I refuse. No way. I have a plan to carry out tonight. I try to put the genie of stupidity back in the bottle. I have to get my grip back. For fuck sakes, I almost touched him there. I shook my head. Stupid son of a bitch.
I sucked the last drops of my orange juice.
“Are you going to eat your lemon,” Stevie asks.
Christ, does this guy always want my fruit?
To answer him, I fish the lemon out of the glass and chew the fruit off the rind. I remember the sugar powder the bartender had dipped the slices in. Two types of fruit. Two different sugar bowls. The sugar helped take the bitterness out of the lemon. The lemon slice had a strong punch to it. Difficult to explain. Another strong mouth and tongue numbing sensation. A pleasant sensation. Orange. Lemon. Both good.
Back to the ass tattoo. Before the beer delivery interruption.
“Who the fuck did the tattoo?”
Stevie was gulping beer number seven, according to his count. Five, according to what I had seen. In a very short time frame. At one hundred and forty pounds, he was going to be putty in no time. My putty.
The tingling was running back and forth, from my asshole to my cock-head. I looked down at my jeans. They were bulging. I looked at Stevie’s leather pants. Same thing. Déjà-vu.
Had I not been here before?
Yes I had, I chuckled. This time, it was him drunk and fucked up, and I would be calling the shots. See how you enjoy this night, bitch.
Stevie appeared to be solving the tattoo riddle.
“Somebody tied to the club, obviously. Somebody with keys to your room. Somewhere in this place there must be tattoo equipment. Or a tattoo room. Maybe somebody was branding you. Somebody here has bigger plans for you.”
Stevie stopped dead.
“Holy shit,” he said.
“What? What?” I barked.
One word was all Stevie said.
Stevie finished his bottle. Drank from the next one. What was he saying?
“God?” I blurted.
“God,” Stevie said. Serious. As serious as an obviously drunk kid could be.
“I should have known. You have been chosen. I have heard about this. When God is interested in one of the patrons, he chooses them.”
What the hell was he talking about? Why was my mind starting to wander?
I was heading back to surreal land. I could see my hand slowly crawl across the cot and touch Stevie’s thigh. Touch the leather. The black leather of the pants I should have worn. My hand continued, sliding toward his packed bulge. I willed my hand to stop, but the leather felt good. Animal skin. Primal.
My head began to throb. The familiar throb from my little brown bottle. From the little blue bottle. From all of my booze. Which I had not drank tonight. The throb in my cock joined the throbbing in my head. Damn it. I had to fight against this.
Why was this even happening, with nothing ingested?
I tried to change my brain pattern from animal sex to intelligent thought. My hand stopped moving up his thigh. Thank Christ.
“Chosen? Chosen for what?”
I needed an answer. For my tattooed ass. I need something, anything, to keep me from falling into the abyss.
Stevie was smiling. He put his empty beer bottle on the night table. He stood up and stepped towards me. Took my hand and pulled me to my feet. Looked into my eyes. I was throbbing all over. My head. My heart. My crotch. My knees felt weak. I felt faint. I needed fresh air and cold water. I needed to move. I needed to get out. The symptoms were all around me, engulfing me. The symptoms of impending gay sex. Throbbing, sweating, drifting, the need to touch and be handled. Again, with no ingestion of alcohol or chemicals. Just, an ingestion of Stevie.
“Chosen by God, to come and worship,” Stevie whispered to me. A hushed, pious whisper.
God? As in the House of God?
“I have to show you something.”
Stevie was holding my hand, leading me out of the room.
Let go of his fucking hand.
I couldn’t. Tried to, but couldn’t.
Into the maze we went. At least I was moving.
The maze was dark. The maze was packed. Busy. Man busy.
Where was he taking me?
I followed numbly. Shit. I was watching myself holding hands with a guy. Fuck. Not again.
My body continued to throb. The throbbing felt weird against the sense of overwhelming numbness. The combination had a swirling, airy quality about it. I heard loud rutting sounds. Beds creaking. Wet kissing. Exaggerated sucking. Moaning. Thrusting and grunting. A cry of passion. A yelp of pain. It all flowed through the maze.
We tangled through the thick hallways, I felt hands all over me. We arrived at the stairwell to the second floor.
Notions of a date next week with a girl, swirled through my mind.
Some sex. Sex with a girl.
Would be so fine.
Me. Her. Naked. Touching. Her tits, her long legs, her sweet, wet pussy.
On my new video system. Video confirmation, from the good side.
God, I lived for pussy. Once.
The swirling continued.
Mentally, I have already cancelled the date.
Stevie turned back to me.
“We are going to the second floor. You have one more test. To see if you are truly worthy. Of him.”
We were sitting in the newest bar in town, the Jack Stone Brewery. Five years new. The Amigos hardly came in here. The bar was for the eighteen to twenty-four year old crowd. Rico and I were seniors in this establishment. The newest thumping dance hits and urban metallic decor. I could feel the bass beat roll up through the floor into my legs and groin. No wonder the chicks loved to dance to this stuff. Dancing meant exertion and sweating, and damp pussy. Damp pussy meant cock hungry pussy. Simple. Let me dance and wiggle my ass, and spread my thighs and shake my tits in your face. You need to buy me drinks to keep the show going. Overpriced, watery drinks, pink and green and purple, the usual dance bar fare.
I ran through my scorecard from hole one to hole twelve. I recalled every moan, and scent, and body part of every single girl. It was mostly good. Getting better as I went. I was feeling pretty damn smug. Proud of what I had accomplished.
Cindy. Charlene. Karrie. Lindsay. Gorgeous girls. Gorgeous bodies. The legs. The asses. The tits. The skin. The hair. The faces. The emotions. The desires. The wet, wet juicy orgasms. For sure, beautiful people were everywhere. Beautiful girls. So many of them.
A slight worry ran through me.
Would I have enough time in my life to do them all? Would I?
This mission was pointing me in the right direction, guiding me in the right direction.
Yes, it was. Every hot chick in the Midwest was now game.
Tonight was another Rico production. Good old Rico and his double taps. First, the Meagan and Teagan hookup at his house party, and second, here we are, sitting across the table from sisters. Very pretty sisters. Lauren and Camden. I would remember these names.
Would I? Teagan. Meagan. Lauren. Camden. Who’s on first?
The girls were cute. Sexy. Young. Twenty and twenty-two. Big pot smokers. From their early teens. Dopers. Already tagged in life with a shit reputation. Into older guys, because here we are. These girls had been at Rico’s last house party, and were thrilled to be getting the private invite for tonight.
I had not told Rico about my disturbing threesome with Donny. The finger scraping cum incident. Nor would I. No need to go there. Hopefully, there would be no repeat of that action. Ever.
This pre-planned double was going down at Rico’s place, in separate bedrooms. We had already agreed. At least, Rico and I had. The girls were chatting away, albeit in a mundane monotone, drinking fancy drinks. The drinks were mere accessories to their pot. The music thankfully obliterated their babbling. I smiled and feigned interest, my mind drifting back to the hallowed halls of reading, our local library.
Those memories were fresh in my mind. What an hour at the library could do for you. The disheveled mess of a woman, glasses on, eating my dripping cock. The cock I had pulled out of her smoking tight ass. What a dirty, dirty cock pig she was. Beautiful. I could do her again.
Cindy tried to clean up in the library bathroom. Asked me to Windex and paper towel the chair we had used. I said sure, no problem, anything for you, Mrs. W. Of course I didn’t clean the chair. The chair was a soupy mess of body fluids. A smelly, sexy, soupy mess. The mess could stew all night long. It would be waiting for the day shift.
When Cindy emerged from the bathroom, the transformation was pretty decent. Face washed, makeup reapplied perfectly. Hair brushed out, perfectly. A dash of nice perfume. Skirt pulled down and flattened. Sweater neatened over her tucked in top. Other than the unsteady gait in her acrylic heels, the stiff walk of a stiff ass fuck, and the overwhelming smell of pussy and cum mixing in a hot oven, she looked as if she had been simply working overtime. Right. Good luck, honey.
I drove her to the end of her driveway, both of the family cars parked there. She exited my car with a proper ‘good night’. Christ. My car stank of pussy. I bent over and sniffed the seat. Her pussy all right, and my jack. I watched Cindy’s long, painful staggering walk up the driveway. Ouch. Sore ass or what?
Rico elbowed me out of my reverie. Time to go. My cock was already growling in my pants. I expected the ‘Librarian Tapes’ would be running in my head for the next while.
At Rico’s house, the sisters immediately pulled out joints and lighters and began to suck up a storm. I wasn’t a huge fan of the stuff, but what the hell, go with the flow. The sisters were getting pretty hammered, and giggly and floating on their buzz cloud.
It was time.
Lauren for me. Camden for Rico.
The sisters were friends of the bodywork duo, the attitude girls, Meagan and Teagan. They had heard the stories of my prowess. They had heard inklings of the big sex challenge. Apparently the rumors were starting up. They certainly knew what I had done to the duet at the house party. Everybody knew. When I left the room, the door was wide open. I was swaggering, the new Tom Cruise, the new Rock of Ages. Folks in the hallway could see the crumpled mess of the bodywork girls. Everybody at the party knew who had fucked who. Knew who I had fucked. The legend continued to grow.
I don’t think these girls fully grasped what was planned for them. They seemed a little slow, perhaps from years of smoking pot. This was going to be much more than love and understanding and peace out.
The four of us mounted the stairs to the second floor. Rico and his girl shuffled off to the master bedroom, Lauren and I to bedroom number three. Eleven on the clock. Too easy.
Lauren was of medium height, with medium length blonde hair, a beautifully proportioned body, and an extremely pretty face. She was a nine on the scale. She began the touching, pawing and kissing thing. I understood immediately, this was not going to be a Charlene, or a Cindy. This was just going to be a pretty number. Emphasize numb.
These girls were blitzed. Drunk and stoned. Last night, there hadn’t been any liquor with the librarian. There had been mind-blowing raw animal sex. With my cock buried in her ass. Then her mouth. With her glasses on. Exactly as I had hoped.
Was there anything better than fucking an intelligent, older woman in the mouth?
All the education, those years in university, and you end up with a cock in your mouth?
The stoner chicks and the dumb hooker chicks had an excuse for ending up with cocks in their mouths. They were stoned. Or dumb. But you Mrs. Librarian, were educated. You knew better. No you didn’t.
All of us.
I smiled. I had a damn good sleep last night. In bed by eleven, no booze in the system, showered, shaved and satisfied.
Let’s do this.
The fumbling pot girl folded in my arms. She would be putty to be molded. I had her clothes off in no time. Then mine. She lay back on the bed, eyes already closed, her legs spread apart. Yes. She had been fucked before.
Not by me.
I stepped back on the carpet and quietly pushed the door open. I was into the ‘open door’ atmosphere of fucking. Jenna, on my couch with the curtains parted. Lindsay in the car, with the security guard watching. The aftermath of Meagan and Teagan. The house partiers investigating. Nurse Karrie with Donny. Okay, pass on that one.
I moved back over Lauren, climbed on the bed. Two more minutes of face to face foreplay and she was wet. I could smell her.
Footsteps in the hallway. Girl footsteps. My sense of hearing was sharpening. I changed my approach. Instead of mounting with my cock, I dropped down with my tongue. Hit the wet spot and listened for the moans to start. What I wanted to hear were the footsteps stopping at my door. Which they did. My cock jumped to the next level of functionality.
Someone was behind me, watching. Trying not to watch, but watching. Captured by the sights. Enthralled.
I licked slowly, with embellished movements, cleaning and smoothing and pressing into Lauren’s pussy. The pot girl moaned as expected, little shocks of electricity running through her legs.
She actually tasted good. Another sensation of mine, sharpening nicely. Charlene had tasted awesome. Cindy had tasted awesome. Cindy’s ass had tasted, well, not awesome, but not as bad as I had hoped.
My crotch was rubbing the bed as I pushed my tongue into the girl. The watching sensation was strong. It must be sister Camden, and she was getting an eyeful. I had no idea what was happening between her and Rico, or what was not happening. I didn’t care. I loved the audience. I will give her a show.
I lifted her sister’s ass up in the air, holding her, an offering. I slurped and sucked as loud as I could. The moaning increased from the girl beneath me. Other sounds came to me. The sounds of someone moaning as they watched. Or was it only in my mind? Probably. I wasn’t the best pussy eater in the world, was I? Chuckle, chuckle.
I began to probe deeper, my expert tongue leading the way. The watcher was still there, unmoving as I mouth-fucked her sister. I pulled away from the pot girl, standing, turning slightly to the side. My cock stood straight out, a massive silhouette of a weapon. I looked at the doorway.
Fuck a dog!
It wasn’t Camden, the snoopy sister.
It was Rico!
My Amigo. Fully clothed.
Watching me eat another chick. Watching me naked, bare-assed, with a hard on, eating another chick.
Rico was staring at my hard on. Mesmerized. Rico broke his spell, gave me the thumbs up, and left.
Jesus Christ. Not what I expected.
My cock twitched as I tried to digest this. Shit. I climbed on the soaked pot smoker. Pushed my cock against her young hole. Eased into her. Perturbed about my buddy.
My cock twitched again.
“Kiss me,” Lauren moaned.
I wasn’t thinking about her. I was thinking of my cock-head rubbing against Donny’s. Donny fingering my cum. Rico, mesmerized, staring at me. When my cock blew into Lauren. Blew hard. Harder than I expected. The poor girl filled up quickly, moaned and babbled and thrashed. Whatever. Do your bad thing, girl. Click. Number thirteen checked off.
It was only eleven twenty.
I grunted the last of my load into her tight pussy. Pulled out. The pot girl seemed to go immediately to sleep. I tossed a blanket over her. Good luck rousing her for your turn, Rico old buddy.
I walked down the hallway, buck naked. To see what the kids were up to. You spy on me, I spy on you. I pushed the master bedroom door open. No Rico. Only Camden, sprawled on the bed, naked and sweet, identical to her sister back in my room. I walked in and checked the en-suite bathroom. Empty.
Where the fuck was Rico?
I moved back to the bed. Camden was the younger of the sisters. My pussy sensor was tingling. I could smell her, blooming on the bed. This would be way cool. For me, anyway. Not sure how Rico would handle it when he returned. He would probably watch me, again. Eat a sister, part two.
I slid to my knees, grabbed Camden’s smooth legs and pulled her down the bed. Towards me. Towards my tongue. Which was already out and leading.
She was dry. Not totally dry. There was no man cum in her. This was good. I did not need my tongue bumping up against Rico’s spunk.
Where the fuck was he anyway?
Oh well, there was work to be done. The heavy wetness appeared immediately. The fact I had extended my tongue completely into her pussy might have something to do with it. I twirled my tongue around inside her. The telltale moaning began. Nothing extreme. Certainly nothing like Charlene or Cindy. I might have to do a forty year old before this was over. I might be able to make a forty year old scream.
Pot smoking Camden was very similar to her pot smoking sister. Easy peasy to get into bed, but a stone dead fuck. Whatever. This was simply another number for me. Another pathetically easy number. These young girls were bigger sluts than us guys were horn dogs. This girl tasted sweet, I didn’t mind giving her the lick over. My goal here was to turn the stoned one into a live one.
I worked her pussy good, sucking, licking and eating. Eating her like a six pack. Lots of moaning, not much else. I don’t know if she was moaning from the eating, or moaning because she was stoned. I pulled my face out. Peeked at my watch. Wow. Fifteen minutes of steady eating. I licked my lips. She was nice and wet. Tight. Near virgin tight. She was a kid, I would give her a break. I would go easy on her. I felt those eyes on me once again. Damn.
Kind of weird, Rico.
I turned to confront my Amigo.
Lauren. The stoned sister.
Not passed out under a blanket.
Definitely stoned though.
Staring at my cock, which was rock hard again. So quick. So young. Such a stud.
I motioned the sister over. She obeyed. A zombie. She was beside the big bed. Watching me. I mounted the bed, parted her sister’s legs, and pressed my bell against the wetness. Pressed harder. Pushed in. Camden felt it, stoned or not. She yipped, her loudest sound yet. The older sister stared. She was staring at my cock, doing the biology in her head. Yes, the monster cock had been in her, now it was going into her baby sister.
Would it fit?
Yeah. I’ll make it fit.
I pushed in further. The girl on the bottom squirmed. I pushed further. Halfway there. Eyes on my back. Had to be Rico. I turned. Looked. Fuck. It was. Still fully clothed. Rico wasn’t watching this time. He was moving. To the bed.
Wondering why I was doing it with his girl?
Because I could. Because I was me.
Rico got it. Lived with it.
After all, he was out of the competition.
Bros before hoes and all.
Rico guided the watching older sister onto the bed. Beside me. Close. He was naked in seconds. He mounted her . Pushed the girl’s legs apart. I didn’t look because I did not want to see it. I had seen Donny’s. Plenty enough for me.
I did look.
Rico’s cock was beginning to slide into Lauren. The sister gurgled some weird sound and I knew she was feeling it. There it was. Another monument to the Amigos. Two chicks. Sisters. Both on their backs. Both stoned. Both mounted. Both trophies on the same bed.
Our asses moved in sync as we slowly pumped the girls. I was watching Rico, watching him slide in and out, in and out. Stiff cock sliding in, tight hole receiving. Eating up the cock. Mesmerizing. I was matching his movements. Dual pumping. Dual moaning. Not much else from the stoned pot smokers. Who cared. I had another idea.
“Hey, do you think we can cum at the same time?”
Rico looked at me.
“Fuck yes,” he enthused. “Let’s do it!”
We kind of watched each other as we spread the girls’ legs further and continued our rhythmic pumping. The pace increased as we worked their young pussies. The dueling moaning grew a little louder, a little more responsive.
Come on girls, you are being drilled by two of the biggest studs in town. A little excitement might be in order.
I wondered if I looked as good as Rico. Body straining, muscles rippling, tight abdomen, strong legs, a thin veneer of perspiration coating everything. For sure I looked as good. I easily matched up, more, exceeded, the Latino lover. The little thing called cock size. The big evener up of the male world. I hadn’t seen all of Rico’s, but mine was thicker and for sure, longer.
I was the winner. Again.
And beneath us. Two more winners. Two beautiful girls, being drilled by two big boys.
What was this experience, the helplessness of the bottom females?
Why did they enjoy being pounded, manipulated, twisted up and controlled by the strapping, hungry males?
Because they were designated by God to be subservient to man?
Obviously they enjoyed their lot in life. Because they all orgasmed during their submissions.
Ah, fuck the gentle shit. We began to hit the zombies harder. The smacking sound of us hammering their cunts was quite impressive. We were almost in unison, the smack-smack, smack-smack was something to hear. This was the six chicks at the house party, all over again. Another amazing notch in my cap. The girls bounced on the bed as the two big men did their bodywork. I heard Rico tense up, growl something and blow. He was way ahead of me.
I had already shot a load tonight, and would last much longer on this one. I was getting close though. I glanced at my watch. Five minutes before twelve.
Whoa there, big fella. Too early.
Rico pulled out, dropping Lauren’s legs to the ground.
I refused to look at the naked Latino. I had a better idea.
“Grab your phone.”
Rico looked at me. Got the new plan. Scrambled off the bed, rummaged in his pants and came up with his phone. Set up the camera function. I pulled out of Camden, mounted the twice fucked Lauren, lifted her ass to the sky and buried my cock in her. Rico flashed away, capturing the moment in fuck history. I pulled out, re-mounted Camden, same thing, lifted her ass to the sky, and drove her home. Checked my watch. Midnight and one minute. Pulled out of Camden. My cock was beginning the twitch. Soaked in pussy and Rico’s load. Damn. Rico’s load on my cock. I hadn’t thought this one all the way through, had I?
Idiot stick. The second time in what, two days I had shared splash with another dude?
Rico was flashing. He moved the cell camera close to my cock.
What the fuck?
I pushed him away, climbed back on the older sister. Pumped her ten, fifteen, twenty times. Pissed off at Rico. Doing the queer, cock picture thing. Pissed off at me. Bathing my cock in Rico’s cum. The girls would pay. I drilled Lauren harder, twenty-five thrusts now. She moaned and groaned.
I pulled out of her, climbed back on her baby sister, and began the pile driver. I was rocking this chick, angry and embarrassed, but my cock was as stiff as stone. I kept ramming her, harder and faster. Finally, I felt the twitch begin, it would be over soon. I folded little sister up good, and hammered her from straight above. Her eyes didn’t open and her mouth barely moved. What a couple of retards. I finally hit eruption, and emptied my load into her no longer tight pussy. I pumped the last drops into her, finally dropping her ass back on the bed.
I pulled out.
Rico was standing there, a little stunned.
He raised his hand to me. I high-fived him. We were done. We had the pictures to prove it. Young Masters of the Universe.
The counter ticked to fourteen. Holy hell. This was so easy, it was almost embarrassing.
The two stoners weren’t going anywhere tonight. They would wake up tomorrow, sore and raw. Smelling their own sweet pussies, and our manly cum. They would be at Rico’s place. Not mine. Not my problem getting them out. Maybe the Latino lover would pick up sloppy seconds in the morning. I used Rico’s shower and was out the door by twelve thirty. A work day ahead of me, and then, guess who was coming for dinner?
Back home at my kitchen table I sat down with pencil in hand. Scorecard on the table. These were very pretty sisters. Stoned, pretty, pleasure units. Certainly, the Rico thing was as creepy as the Donny thing. Creepy but somehow interesting and different.
I began to write. Hole number thirteen, Lauren, nine, nine point five. Hole number fourteen, Camden, nine, nine point five. I held back full marks because neither of them was really there.