billy desperate
02-19-2013, 05:59 PM
However one day when I was refueling my truck I was standing next to it enjoying a cool spring breeze blowing through the shade of the protecting portico and out of nowhere the hair on the back of my neck started rising; I spun around and there was a guy no more than ten-feet away staring at my ass.
After I turned around like a wild man, he gave me the elevator business, slowly looking up to my eyes, down to my feet and back up to my eyes: There was no smile or neutral look, just pure, intense lust. Being sober, I flashed back to a night of light fog four-years earlier when, despite being too drunk to be very alert, the hair at the back of my neck had stood and I had received the same look.
I tried to look him in the eyes, but my eyes kept flicking back to the large bulge in his Levis and then wander around his body, only to flick back to his cock nested in those jeans. He was a bull of a guy, probably just a few years older than me, good looking in an edgy way, around 6’-1” tall, probably 205 or 210-pounds of packed muscle, with a skinny waist, but massive chest, shoulders, arms, black as tar and when I could tear my eyes from what was between them, neither his legs nor his package had enough room in his 501’s.
I re-experienced the fear and terror, and that not quite exhilarating excitement as I had four years earlier and had an instant erection because of the way he was appraising me. I could feel the tingle and slight vibration start to course through me, so took off to the men’s room to jack off; if he was still there when I got back, then who knew what would happen?
The room had a urinal, a sink, and a toilet, but it was just one room with no privacy screens. I was just getting started and heard a slight jiggle of the door, then another, and then nothing. I turned around to check the door locks and they were okay, but the canopy style frosted crank-out window had been opened way too much and he was just staring at me in the mirror. I enjoyed the audience I guess, because I could not stop and kept stroking while watching him watch me in the mirror. I started shooting a load with an, “Oh God”, as he watched, then disappeared.
When I got back to my truck he was gone, which was both a relief and a disappointment. I opened the door to get in and there on the seat was a notebook page with, “Call me, Joseph 5xx-5xxx. Call tonight after 5 P”. I started to round file it, but felt that tingle and vibration, so folded it up and stuck it in my pocket, just in case I decided to fuck with the bull.
Yes, I was fucked up again. I got home, took a shower, stalled around, started making dinner plans, when I just walked into my bedroom and picked up the phone. When he answered I asked what he wanted and he gave a short, lewd laugh and asked, “What do you think”?
“Where are you”, he asked.
“Sitting on my bed”.
“Oh”? . . . “What are you doing”?
“Sitting here trying to talk to you—I just got out of the shower, I’m buck assed naked—and trying to decide what to do about dinner”. I knew what I said, but couldn’t believe I said it.
After several heartbeats, he told me, “Get your bare ass in your car and bring it over to me”.
I hung up the phone and looked at my raging hard-on. I waited a few minutes and redialed his number and it rang several times before he picked it up and answered. “Why don’t you tell me your address and I’ll come over and admire your naked ass in the privacy of your own home”. The next thing I knew is I was at his place drinking beer and eating pizza. Sound friendly? It wasn’t, but better than the first/last guy.
Once again I had that thrill of danger, the fear of being terrorized, and the buzz that went with it all. I was trying to be careful in a possible dangerous situation I had put myself in; I just wasn’t being very chaste about it. I was wearing the tightest 501’s I had and they were plenty tight in the crotch and ass with a form fitting white T. I knew he liked my jeans because he stared at them so much. Twice he tried to put his hands in my back pockets, “just to see if he could get his hands into them”.
I responded, “You want into them, but I don’t think it’s with your hands, so stop it”
We finished the pizza and each had three beers, then he brought out a bottle of homemade Italian liquor that was clear with a red coloring to it and it was a little hot, spicy hot. I don’t know who made it or what it was, but that stuff was good and I had about three shots of it, then switched to some scotch he had. It dawned on me we both had that tingle and vibration going, so I told him I was going to get going and he said, with a smirk, “no you’re not: Friends don’t let friends drink and drive”. I had crossed the line and he wasn’t letting me back up.
He walked up to me until we were touching and he said, “We have some unfinished business from this afternoon”.
“What’s that”, I asked?
“It’s that missing part where you get on your knees and suck my cock”.
“Fuck you” I half screamed.
“Maybe some of that a little later, but for now sucking my cock can start our honeymoon”.
I started to turn away, but he grabbed my shoulders and started pushing me down, while saying, “I don’t have time to fuck around with you . . . I’ve done nothing but think of this since you let me watch you jack off. Now see how much cock you can swallow”. I was on my knees and he was dry fucking my face, pressing his cock against my face, specifically my mouth, and I could feel him get harder and harder. He reached down with one hand and pulled his Levis undone.
I watched his cock uncoil straight into my face. I tried turning my head, but he pulled it back and pushed the head up against my mouth. He was quite large and I reached up to move it away, but started playing with it instead, then I started stroking it. I could see his lubricant start to ooze and couldn’t help but lick it off and as I did heard a low moan of pleasure. I licked it again and got another low moan.
Still stroking him, I opened my mouth and was slowly trying to get his big glans into my mouth when he straightened his body to me, moved both oh his hands to the back of my head, and pulled me into his cock as he pushed it. I was salivating heavily, which made his cock nice and slippery and it sounded like he was fucking a twat, but I couldn’t breathe well around that huge fucker. It felt like having a Columbus two-pound salami with three giant sized marshmallows on the end crammed in my mouth, which was a turn on itself.
He was as excited as I was, moaning and saying choice things about me, and I was into making a pig of myself, when he SCREAMED, “Ah Fuck!” and started pumping jism. It wasn’t a complete surprise to me because I already had started squealing when his humping picked up speed, but as soon as he started shooting, I started snorting, swallowing, slurping, and gurgling away and every move he made fired off another load. Everything from my sinuses to my voice box was coated thickly in his cum
My hands had slipped from Joseph’s ass to his hams and I was slouched with my head against his legs as I was trying to swallow everything. I could feel his cock lying against my forehead and turned my face so I could nibble and lick it. It was about now I realized I was plenty fucked up and it had nothing to do with booze. I was acquiring—yes, this is a pun—a taste for rough sex with big, black cocks.
Joseph had a nice hard dick in about two licks—nice long licks—and thanks to his quick shooting my jaw wasn’t worn out, but I stopped to see what would happen. What happened was what I expected, but 100-times more intense than I expected. He said not one word, but he grabbed me by the hair of my head and told me to suck that motherfucker, as he pushed it past my lips and deep into my mouth I started resisting and he pulled me up by my hair and started dragging me down the hall until I got control of myself, then he drug and pushed me down the hall and into a bedroom.
He held me in an arm lock and pulled back his bed covers and threw me on the bed then climbed on there with me. He was clenched mouth as he hissed for me to deep throat his cock; he didn’t want to see an inch of it not in my mouth. He was pissed and he was mean. He squirted extra lube on his cock, and then pulled my head to it. I was a little off balance from his near violence and I opened my mouth and he really jammed his cock in there.
“All of it, Blondie”. “Every fucking inch of it, motherfucker, or it’ll all be so far up your ass I’ll be throat fucking you”
I couldn’t say anything, so I worked at getting his thick eight or nine-inches down my throat. I could feel him go to the back of my throat and I gagged a little when I slurped back over his glans where I stopped to lick and kiss it then forced my mouth and throat back down. I was getting a little more each time . . . my throat opened up a little more with each thrust and I was probably getting close to six inches down. He was out of this world, his anger had turned to lust and depravity and all he wanted to do was degrade me. He was calling me names and saying things the first guy never thought of.
I don’t know where I was at this time: I had fucked with the bull and was getting the horn driven deeply into me. Joseph’s reaction had scared me, so I was excited on that level, but the way he was using his cock on me, pumping those hips and holding my head had me sexually excited and I knew what was in store for me later that night, like it or not; talk about buzzing, tingling and vibrating.
He held my head and rolled us so he was on his side and he really started plunging that cock down my throat. I reached one of my hands up to my throat and I could feel that massive piece of blood engorged meat slide down my throat. Lubed up or not, I knew I was going to have swollen, red, lips and a sore throat when he finished, but he was close to cuming I was sure.
How could he not be, his intensity was sparked way up, and he was pumping all of his cock tightly down my throat; he froze, then started short pumping and exploded with a gusher of cum and I again found myself squealing, slurping, gulping, gurgling, and swallowing. And horking it up into my nose and sinuses. And tasting it. And feeling him shoot it on my face. I thought how embarrassing it would be to drown in cum, because I was already at max swallowing capacity and I didn’t think he was going to stop his gushing load in or at me.
I lay on the bed and hoped to make him happy by finger spooning his jizz off my face and chest and into my mouth. It must have worked: He was calling me baby and honey and whore and bitch over and over. He started telling me he was going to find out if I was as good a piece of ass as I was a cock sucker, so there it was and although the buzzing and vibrating went up a level of two and my balls and asshole were tingling I was beginning to understand how badly I fucked up.
That was Friday night and I didn’t see outside until late Sunday afternoon and in that time, although he only fucked me three times, twice missionary and the other he horse fucked me, I was fucked well fucked each time and shot massive loads each time. I blew long ropes of cum, twice all over him and once all over his bed. The rest of the time I spent sucking, licking, and kissing his cock. He shot jism by the pound and he must have recharged it in record time, because I never got a short load.
I was ambivalent about going back when I left, but by Thursday I had changed my mind. The more I had thought about this thing I did, the more I realized I had drank very little after Friday night, had played hard to get, even coquettishly at times to the point it had driven him more sexually insane and I admitted I liked that. I liked that and I liked the power it gave me, just like a cunt, so I changed my mind and called him, which put me back at the scene of the crime early Friday evening. I dressed the same as before, but with a nice surprise for him. He was the same as before except he had a surprise for me, too, and his was quite the surprise.
And he was on me like white on rice.
He started in on me, but I stopped him and told him he was taking me to dinner or no pussy, no blow jobs. I didn’t know what would happen, but after he looked at me for the longest time, and he looked a little fearful, he asked where I would like to go. That made feel like I had all the power and like a cunt I planned on keeping it.
We ate at a little Chinese place I knew of. It was very small with seating for maybe nine at the three-tables and I think it had five counter seats. We sat at this little table, a half-booth actually, in the corner and I scooted in and Joseph followed me. While we waited for our pork chops and rice our talking was drab and uneasy, so I took a page from my friend Rita’s playbook by reaching over with my left hand and rubbing his cock.
His reflexes were excellent and I congratulated him on his rapid and large erection. He was some put off balance by my behavior and I could tell he was nervous and afraid we would be caught although there were only me, him, and the old Chinese woman cooking.
Nervous he might have been, but a low, small moan escaped his lips, so I ripped his buttoned Levis open and reached in for a handful of his cock. I was just playing, watching him watch the woman, and he might have been nervous but his cock turned into an iron bar so I started pumping it.
He wanted me to stop, but he also liked what I was doing, and unfortunately he didn’t last long and started pumping large spurts of thick cum and he was a little noisy about it. I reached over with my right hand and caught most of three or four of his blasts of jism. The palm of my hand held a copious amount of cum and when I showed it to him, his jaw clenched and he hissed at me between teeth to, “get rid of it:, which I did.
I bent down while raising my hand and noisily slurped and licked it up. Of course some was stuck to my lips and so I licked it off. Rita had done the exact same thing to me about six-months before. He had that, “What the fuck”, look on his face and he turned to check on Shanghai Suzy, then back at me. I started laughing and asked how his week had been.
On the way back to his place he wasn’t saying much, so I started badgering him saying things like, "Nice date” and, “I suppose you think you’re getting something for taking me out”? I got a couple dirty looks, so I grabbed his cock, then lay down on the front seat, pulled that big dick out again and started swallowing.
“Stop! If we get arrested, so help me . . . . “Shut up and quit crying, I said, I’ll bite the head off and give you a reason to whine and cry, plus you’ll never see it again”. Tough guy. In control tough guy, that was me..
We were about 10-minutes into a 20-minute ride so I went back to stroking, licking, bobbing away, his car kept lurching this way and that, until he tried to pull over when he started blowing his load, but couldn’t. I got every spurt and then when I sat up the horns started honking and lights started flashing. Joseph immediately turned off the street we were on and started taking evasive action. I was having a difficult time swallowing and laughing but I managed.
We got to his place and he said nothing, so I said goodbye, but damn I was horny. I was in control and wanted to keep it that way, so I was feeling strong when as soon as I got to my car Joseph came out and asked me to come back in and have a drink with him.
I was only on my third drink and was beginning to feel very fucked up, so I accused him of feeding me triple Ron Rico 151 and coke, but he laughed and reminded me that he was making both our drinks right at the table out of the same bottle of 80 proof Bacardi, with the same coke, with the ice out of the same bucket, then he laughed again. Some fucked up I was, but I also realized he was right.
The rest of the night faded in and out and it was hazy like I was living in a dream world, some opaque place where nothing was quite definite. A couple times I thought I woke up from sleepwalking and several times I believed I was having sex.
I woke in the morning and was still fucked up when I stumbled into the bathroom. One look in the mirror told me I hadn’t been dreaming, because I was covered in caked on cum, my lips were so swollen and red I didn’t look like myself, my throat felt like strep, and I couldn’t breathe through my nose and knew why. I reached back to fell the ass of my shorts and they were drenched with cum, some dry, most still damp or wet.
I started back to bed determined to tie a know it Joseph’s cock and squeeze his nuts into BBs, but stopped dead in my tracks, because watching me was a tall fucking cunt in thigh high, seamed black stockings with lace tops, and black bikini panties and a waist-cut black camisole. It was all made of a spider web type material; gauzy, transparent, a little sleazy, and a lot trampy. She looked like a whore . . .she was a whore, and she was looking at me from the mirror.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, so I turned the light on and if it weren’t for the caked on cum, lopsided sleep hair, a little runny mascara and smeared lipstick, she wouldn’t have looked half-bad. I was stunned both by my discovery and my reaction: My cock was hard as stone nearly ripping those bikini panties to shreds. I was fucking turned on and I had no idea why.
I went straight to his laundry room and stuffed everything into a net bag and threw them in the washer on cold, then headed to the shower. On the way I poured myself a stiff ass juice-glass of vodka and decided Joseph was out for the count, so I guess we had a great time and must have been up most of the night. I showered, spent several minutes washing my cock until I fired a huge load of cum and left it streaming down the glass door. By the time I finished shaving and brushing my teeth, the laundry was done and I took it out in the back naked as a jay bird, and hung it up. The woman next door was watching me through a window, with her mouth hanging open, so I took that as an invitation and waved howdy to her, then grabbed my dick and waved that at her too, then marched back inside and put some coffee on.
I finished the vodka and poured a cup of coffee. My moods were swinging from anger to calm to excited, to fear of what I was going to do. I finished the coffee and went out to check my unmentionables and they were dry already. I had left my hair uncombed after the shower since it looked good that way and when I got back in the house I put my new undies on and started looking for the lipstick and eyebrow stuff. Yea, I was getting into this, I guess: I did have a great ass and long, well-shaped legs and a decent sized cock kept those panties nice and puffed up.
I got my lips and brows on, checked myself out—HOT!— and went straight in to Joseph, reached under the sheet and yanked on his cock and yanked pretty hard. While he was trying to wake up I grabbed his balls, showed him the boning knife I had, and told him it was time for his scheduled sex change. That straightened him out for a minute then he told me he had something to show me.
What?
“A video . . . a couple photos is all”.
He did have videos and photos: Two videos in fact, and about three, or four-dozen stills of us from the night before. There I was in all my glory looking like a floozy cunt, and I was doing it to him or he was doing me. It is a little too much to admit, but watching the video and looking at the stills had me vibrating with excitement and soon I had my lips wrapped around his cock. Obviously he was pretty excited too, because he drove that big cock of his down my poor ravaged throat only six, seven, maybe eight times before squirting gob after gob of jiz down it.
However, it didn’t take him long to raise his Johnson and before I knew what was happening he had mounted me and was fucking me silly. I soon was humping him and telling him, “more cock, fuck me black boy”; soon I was spouting jiz all over him, just as he started blasting his loads up my ass.
Between the booze and whatever the bastard slipped me the night before and some rousing sex, I drifted in and out of sleep the rest of the day. Every time I woke the rapist film maker was sleeping besides me.
Just at dark I woke up for good, but Joseph was still sleeping away, so I wasted no time by throwing my clothes, shoes, a pair of Amazon sized high heels, and both videos and stills into two shopping bags. Out the back door, through the gate to my car in the driveway and I was on the road in seconds looking good in my floozy clothes of thigh highs, bikini panties, and camisole. I was worried about being pulled over by the coppers, more worried about being thrown in the county lockup dressed as I was, or how I was going to get into my place if anybody was about. I wasn’t worried about who did the filming or if he got a piece of ass or a blow job from me, because I would never know, nor was I concerned about the originals because, well I just didn’t care because it would have been a real stretch for someone to put me in those stockings.
On the way home I decided I needed to find myself a nice bi girlfriend and for me to start taking advantage of all the dating possibilities out there.
After I turned around like a wild man, he gave me the elevator business, slowly looking up to my eyes, down to my feet and back up to my eyes: There was no smile or neutral look, just pure, intense lust. Being sober, I flashed back to a night of light fog four-years earlier when, despite being too drunk to be very alert, the hair at the back of my neck had stood and I had received the same look.
I tried to look him in the eyes, but my eyes kept flicking back to the large bulge in his Levis and then wander around his body, only to flick back to his cock nested in those jeans. He was a bull of a guy, probably just a few years older than me, good looking in an edgy way, around 6’-1” tall, probably 205 or 210-pounds of packed muscle, with a skinny waist, but massive chest, shoulders, arms, black as tar and when I could tear my eyes from what was between them, neither his legs nor his package had enough room in his 501’s.
I re-experienced the fear and terror, and that not quite exhilarating excitement as I had four years earlier and had an instant erection because of the way he was appraising me. I could feel the tingle and slight vibration start to course through me, so took off to the men’s room to jack off; if he was still there when I got back, then who knew what would happen?
The room had a urinal, a sink, and a toilet, but it was just one room with no privacy screens. I was just getting started and heard a slight jiggle of the door, then another, and then nothing. I turned around to check the door locks and they were okay, but the canopy style frosted crank-out window had been opened way too much and he was just staring at me in the mirror. I enjoyed the audience I guess, because I could not stop and kept stroking while watching him watch me in the mirror. I started shooting a load with an, “Oh God”, as he watched, then disappeared.
When I got back to my truck he was gone, which was both a relief and a disappointment. I opened the door to get in and there on the seat was a notebook page with, “Call me, Joseph 5xx-5xxx. Call tonight after 5 P”. I started to round file it, but felt that tingle and vibration, so folded it up and stuck it in my pocket, just in case I decided to fuck with the bull.
Yes, I was fucked up again. I got home, took a shower, stalled around, started making dinner plans, when I just walked into my bedroom and picked up the phone. When he answered I asked what he wanted and he gave a short, lewd laugh and asked, “What do you think”?
“Where are you”, he asked.
“Sitting on my bed”.
“Oh”? . . . “What are you doing”?
“Sitting here trying to talk to you—I just got out of the shower, I’m buck assed naked—and trying to decide what to do about dinner”. I knew what I said, but couldn’t believe I said it.
After several heartbeats, he told me, “Get your bare ass in your car and bring it over to me”.
I hung up the phone and looked at my raging hard-on. I waited a few minutes and redialed his number and it rang several times before he picked it up and answered. “Why don’t you tell me your address and I’ll come over and admire your naked ass in the privacy of your own home”. The next thing I knew is I was at his place drinking beer and eating pizza. Sound friendly? It wasn’t, but better than the first/last guy.
Once again I had that thrill of danger, the fear of being terrorized, and the buzz that went with it all. I was trying to be careful in a possible dangerous situation I had put myself in; I just wasn’t being very chaste about it. I was wearing the tightest 501’s I had and they were plenty tight in the crotch and ass with a form fitting white T. I knew he liked my jeans because he stared at them so much. Twice he tried to put his hands in my back pockets, “just to see if he could get his hands into them”.
I responded, “You want into them, but I don’t think it’s with your hands, so stop it”
We finished the pizza and each had three beers, then he brought out a bottle of homemade Italian liquor that was clear with a red coloring to it and it was a little hot, spicy hot. I don’t know who made it or what it was, but that stuff was good and I had about three shots of it, then switched to some scotch he had. It dawned on me we both had that tingle and vibration going, so I told him I was going to get going and he said, with a smirk, “no you’re not: Friends don’t let friends drink and drive”. I had crossed the line and he wasn’t letting me back up.
He walked up to me until we were touching and he said, “We have some unfinished business from this afternoon”.
“What’s that”, I asked?
“It’s that missing part where you get on your knees and suck my cock”.
“Fuck you” I half screamed.
“Maybe some of that a little later, but for now sucking my cock can start our honeymoon”.
I started to turn away, but he grabbed my shoulders and started pushing me down, while saying, “I don’t have time to fuck around with you . . . I’ve done nothing but think of this since you let me watch you jack off. Now see how much cock you can swallow”. I was on my knees and he was dry fucking my face, pressing his cock against my face, specifically my mouth, and I could feel him get harder and harder. He reached down with one hand and pulled his Levis undone.
I watched his cock uncoil straight into my face. I tried turning my head, but he pulled it back and pushed the head up against my mouth. He was quite large and I reached up to move it away, but started playing with it instead, then I started stroking it. I could see his lubricant start to ooze and couldn’t help but lick it off and as I did heard a low moan of pleasure. I licked it again and got another low moan.
Still stroking him, I opened my mouth and was slowly trying to get his big glans into my mouth when he straightened his body to me, moved both oh his hands to the back of my head, and pulled me into his cock as he pushed it. I was salivating heavily, which made his cock nice and slippery and it sounded like he was fucking a twat, but I couldn’t breathe well around that huge fucker. It felt like having a Columbus two-pound salami with three giant sized marshmallows on the end crammed in my mouth, which was a turn on itself.
He was as excited as I was, moaning and saying choice things about me, and I was into making a pig of myself, when he SCREAMED, “Ah Fuck!” and started pumping jism. It wasn’t a complete surprise to me because I already had started squealing when his humping picked up speed, but as soon as he started shooting, I started snorting, swallowing, slurping, and gurgling away and every move he made fired off another load. Everything from my sinuses to my voice box was coated thickly in his cum
My hands had slipped from Joseph’s ass to his hams and I was slouched with my head against his legs as I was trying to swallow everything. I could feel his cock lying against my forehead and turned my face so I could nibble and lick it. It was about now I realized I was plenty fucked up and it had nothing to do with booze. I was acquiring—yes, this is a pun—a taste for rough sex with big, black cocks.
Joseph had a nice hard dick in about two licks—nice long licks—and thanks to his quick shooting my jaw wasn’t worn out, but I stopped to see what would happen. What happened was what I expected, but 100-times more intense than I expected. He said not one word, but he grabbed me by the hair of my head and told me to suck that motherfucker, as he pushed it past my lips and deep into my mouth I started resisting and he pulled me up by my hair and started dragging me down the hall until I got control of myself, then he drug and pushed me down the hall and into a bedroom.
He held me in an arm lock and pulled back his bed covers and threw me on the bed then climbed on there with me. He was clenched mouth as he hissed for me to deep throat his cock; he didn’t want to see an inch of it not in my mouth. He was pissed and he was mean. He squirted extra lube on his cock, and then pulled my head to it. I was a little off balance from his near violence and I opened my mouth and he really jammed his cock in there.
“All of it, Blondie”. “Every fucking inch of it, motherfucker, or it’ll all be so far up your ass I’ll be throat fucking you”
I couldn’t say anything, so I worked at getting his thick eight or nine-inches down my throat. I could feel him go to the back of my throat and I gagged a little when I slurped back over his glans where I stopped to lick and kiss it then forced my mouth and throat back down. I was getting a little more each time . . . my throat opened up a little more with each thrust and I was probably getting close to six inches down. He was out of this world, his anger had turned to lust and depravity and all he wanted to do was degrade me. He was calling me names and saying things the first guy never thought of.
I don’t know where I was at this time: I had fucked with the bull and was getting the horn driven deeply into me. Joseph’s reaction had scared me, so I was excited on that level, but the way he was using his cock on me, pumping those hips and holding my head had me sexually excited and I knew what was in store for me later that night, like it or not; talk about buzzing, tingling and vibrating.
He held my head and rolled us so he was on his side and he really started plunging that cock down my throat. I reached one of my hands up to my throat and I could feel that massive piece of blood engorged meat slide down my throat. Lubed up or not, I knew I was going to have swollen, red, lips and a sore throat when he finished, but he was close to cuming I was sure.
How could he not be, his intensity was sparked way up, and he was pumping all of his cock tightly down my throat; he froze, then started short pumping and exploded with a gusher of cum and I again found myself squealing, slurping, gulping, gurgling, and swallowing. And horking it up into my nose and sinuses. And tasting it. And feeling him shoot it on my face. I thought how embarrassing it would be to drown in cum, because I was already at max swallowing capacity and I didn’t think he was going to stop his gushing load in or at me.
I lay on the bed and hoped to make him happy by finger spooning his jizz off my face and chest and into my mouth. It must have worked: He was calling me baby and honey and whore and bitch over and over. He started telling me he was going to find out if I was as good a piece of ass as I was a cock sucker, so there it was and although the buzzing and vibrating went up a level of two and my balls and asshole were tingling I was beginning to understand how badly I fucked up.
That was Friday night and I didn’t see outside until late Sunday afternoon and in that time, although he only fucked me three times, twice missionary and the other he horse fucked me, I was fucked well fucked each time and shot massive loads each time. I blew long ropes of cum, twice all over him and once all over his bed. The rest of the time I spent sucking, licking, and kissing his cock. He shot jism by the pound and he must have recharged it in record time, because I never got a short load.
I was ambivalent about going back when I left, but by Thursday I had changed my mind. The more I had thought about this thing I did, the more I realized I had drank very little after Friday night, had played hard to get, even coquettishly at times to the point it had driven him more sexually insane and I admitted I liked that. I liked that and I liked the power it gave me, just like a cunt, so I changed my mind and called him, which put me back at the scene of the crime early Friday evening. I dressed the same as before, but with a nice surprise for him. He was the same as before except he had a surprise for me, too, and his was quite the surprise.
And he was on me like white on rice.
He started in on me, but I stopped him and told him he was taking me to dinner or no pussy, no blow jobs. I didn’t know what would happen, but after he looked at me for the longest time, and he looked a little fearful, he asked where I would like to go. That made feel like I had all the power and like a cunt I planned on keeping it.
We ate at a little Chinese place I knew of. It was very small with seating for maybe nine at the three-tables and I think it had five counter seats. We sat at this little table, a half-booth actually, in the corner and I scooted in and Joseph followed me. While we waited for our pork chops and rice our talking was drab and uneasy, so I took a page from my friend Rita’s playbook by reaching over with my left hand and rubbing his cock.
His reflexes were excellent and I congratulated him on his rapid and large erection. He was some put off balance by my behavior and I could tell he was nervous and afraid we would be caught although there were only me, him, and the old Chinese woman cooking.
Nervous he might have been, but a low, small moan escaped his lips, so I ripped his buttoned Levis open and reached in for a handful of his cock. I was just playing, watching him watch the woman, and he might have been nervous but his cock turned into an iron bar so I started pumping it.
He wanted me to stop, but he also liked what I was doing, and unfortunately he didn’t last long and started pumping large spurts of thick cum and he was a little noisy about it. I reached over with my right hand and caught most of three or four of his blasts of jism. The palm of my hand held a copious amount of cum and when I showed it to him, his jaw clenched and he hissed at me between teeth to, “get rid of it:, which I did.
I bent down while raising my hand and noisily slurped and licked it up. Of course some was stuck to my lips and so I licked it off. Rita had done the exact same thing to me about six-months before. He had that, “What the fuck”, look on his face and he turned to check on Shanghai Suzy, then back at me. I started laughing and asked how his week had been.
On the way back to his place he wasn’t saying much, so I started badgering him saying things like, "Nice date” and, “I suppose you think you’re getting something for taking me out”? I got a couple dirty looks, so I grabbed his cock, then lay down on the front seat, pulled that big dick out again and started swallowing.
“Stop! If we get arrested, so help me . . . . “Shut up and quit crying, I said, I’ll bite the head off and give you a reason to whine and cry, plus you’ll never see it again”. Tough guy. In control tough guy, that was me..
We were about 10-minutes into a 20-minute ride so I went back to stroking, licking, bobbing away, his car kept lurching this way and that, until he tried to pull over when he started blowing his load, but couldn’t. I got every spurt and then when I sat up the horns started honking and lights started flashing. Joseph immediately turned off the street we were on and started taking evasive action. I was having a difficult time swallowing and laughing but I managed.
We got to his place and he said nothing, so I said goodbye, but damn I was horny. I was in control and wanted to keep it that way, so I was feeling strong when as soon as I got to my car Joseph came out and asked me to come back in and have a drink with him.
I was only on my third drink and was beginning to feel very fucked up, so I accused him of feeding me triple Ron Rico 151 and coke, but he laughed and reminded me that he was making both our drinks right at the table out of the same bottle of 80 proof Bacardi, with the same coke, with the ice out of the same bucket, then he laughed again. Some fucked up I was, but I also realized he was right.
The rest of the night faded in and out and it was hazy like I was living in a dream world, some opaque place where nothing was quite definite. A couple times I thought I woke up from sleepwalking and several times I believed I was having sex.
I woke in the morning and was still fucked up when I stumbled into the bathroom. One look in the mirror told me I hadn’t been dreaming, because I was covered in caked on cum, my lips were so swollen and red I didn’t look like myself, my throat felt like strep, and I couldn’t breathe through my nose and knew why. I reached back to fell the ass of my shorts and they were drenched with cum, some dry, most still damp or wet.
I started back to bed determined to tie a know it Joseph’s cock and squeeze his nuts into BBs, but stopped dead in my tracks, because watching me was a tall fucking cunt in thigh high, seamed black stockings with lace tops, and black bikini panties and a waist-cut black camisole. It was all made of a spider web type material; gauzy, transparent, a little sleazy, and a lot trampy. She looked like a whore . . .she was a whore, and she was looking at me from the mirror.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, so I turned the light on and if it weren’t for the caked on cum, lopsided sleep hair, a little runny mascara and smeared lipstick, she wouldn’t have looked half-bad. I was stunned both by my discovery and my reaction: My cock was hard as stone nearly ripping those bikini panties to shreds. I was fucking turned on and I had no idea why.
I went straight to his laundry room and stuffed everything into a net bag and threw them in the washer on cold, then headed to the shower. On the way I poured myself a stiff ass juice-glass of vodka and decided Joseph was out for the count, so I guess we had a great time and must have been up most of the night. I showered, spent several minutes washing my cock until I fired a huge load of cum and left it streaming down the glass door. By the time I finished shaving and brushing my teeth, the laundry was done and I took it out in the back naked as a jay bird, and hung it up. The woman next door was watching me through a window, with her mouth hanging open, so I took that as an invitation and waved howdy to her, then grabbed my dick and waved that at her too, then marched back inside and put some coffee on.
I finished the vodka and poured a cup of coffee. My moods were swinging from anger to calm to excited, to fear of what I was going to do. I finished the coffee and went out to check my unmentionables and they were dry already. I had left my hair uncombed after the shower since it looked good that way and when I got back in the house I put my new undies on and started looking for the lipstick and eyebrow stuff. Yea, I was getting into this, I guess: I did have a great ass and long, well-shaped legs and a decent sized cock kept those panties nice and puffed up.
I got my lips and brows on, checked myself out—HOT!— and went straight in to Joseph, reached under the sheet and yanked on his cock and yanked pretty hard. While he was trying to wake up I grabbed his balls, showed him the boning knife I had, and told him it was time for his scheduled sex change. That straightened him out for a minute then he told me he had something to show me.
What?
“A video . . . a couple photos is all”.
He did have videos and photos: Two videos in fact, and about three, or four-dozen stills of us from the night before. There I was in all my glory looking like a floozy cunt, and I was doing it to him or he was doing me. It is a little too much to admit, but watching the video and looking at the stills had me vibrating with excitement and soon I had my lips wrapped around his cock. Obviously he was pretty excited too, because he drove that big cock of his down my poor ravaged throat only six, seven, maybe eight times before squirting gob after gob of jiz down it.
However, it didn’t take him long to raise his Johnson and before I knew what was happening he had mounted me and was fucking me silly. I soon was humping him and telling him, “more cock, fuck me black boy”; soon I was spouting jiz all over him, just as he started blasting his loads up my ass.
Between the booze and whatever the bastard slipped me the night before and some rousing sex, I drifted in and out of sleep the rest of the day. Every time I woke the rapist film maker was sleeping besides me.
Just at dark I woke up for good, but Joseph was still sleeping away, so I wasted no time by throwing my clothes, shoes, a pair of Amazon sized high heels, and both videos and stills into two shopping bags. Out the back door, through the gate to my car in the driveway and I was on the road in seconds looking good in my floozy clothes of thigh highs, bikini panties, and camisole. I was worried about being pulled over by the coppers, more worried about being thrown in the county lockup dressed as I was, or how I was going to get into my place if anybody was about. I wasn’t worried about who did the filming or if he got a piece of ass or a blow job from me, because I would never know, nor was I concerned about the originals because, well I just didn’t care because it would have been a real stretch for someone to put me in those stockings.
On the way home I decided I needed to find myself a nice bi girlfriend and for me to start taking advantage of all the dating possibilities out there.