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Chapter 42 Laundry Room Experience
“I’m going to sleep for twenty fours hours straight when we get back,” said Stacy sipping her coffee as she drove. It was mid morning Sunday and the two were at the start of the two hour drive back to Cambridge.
“Thank you for getting me invited,” said Portia sleepily. “I had a wonderful time. My sore and overused orifices thank you too.”
“It was absolutely wild. I am totally fucked out. Does your jaw hurt?” asked Stacy flexing her jaw to test its soreness.
“Yes, I need a couple of days off from sucking cock. Monk and Les are going to have to stroke it. My other openings need rest too.”
“Too much cock and pussy in too little time,” said Stacy shaking her head. “But it was for a good cause. We raised over six hundred thousand dollars. I feel like I did something worthwhile.”
“Should we now think of ourselves as prostitutes,” asked Portia?
“Why do you say that,” asked Stacy?
“We had sex for money. That implies prostitution.”
“But we personally didn’t benefit. Women in Harm’s Way did,” said Stacy.
“Most prostitutes have a pimp who benefits from their employment,” said Portia.
“But I repeat, it was for a very worthy cause and all we got out of it were clothes we can’t wear in public. Perhaps, we should go find an ethics professor and ask him to clarify our status,” said Stacy.
“He would want to screw us before he would decide,” said Portia.
“Which would only further complicate our situation since having sex with an ethics professor is unethical,” said Stacy.
“We might as well enjoy it while we’re young,” said Portia. “One of these days we’ll get married, move to the burbs and become soccer moms. Our sex lives will be over.”
“There were a few soccer moms present.”
“True, Kendra, my partner on the golf outing, has two kids, a husband, and a house in Lexington. Let me tell you she was very happy to get away from her family for a weekend. Her children are thirteen and fourteen and a handful according to her.”
“So one doesn’t quit just slow down,” said Stacy. “Still, it’s hard to imagine a future husband telling me to enjoy myself as I head off for a weekend of orgiastic sex with strangers, even if it was for a good cause.”
“Apparently it happens more often than one would think. Kendra, a proto-typical stay-at-home mom who works part time wants us to visit them. She and her husband have a fully equipped dungeon in the basement. They’re both sexual submissives and they like to be dominated as a couple.”
“Obviously, Lexington has a lighter side. I wonder if Thoreau got laid by Walden Pond,” said Stacy.
“He probably did but you didn’t make a blog entry in those days describing how good it was for your online readers,” said Portia.
“I wonder if he and Emerson had homosexual relations,” asked Stacy?
“Of course, the philosophy of Transcendentalism occurred to Emerson just as Henry David’s ten incher forced his sphincter,” said Portia. “It was his first transcendental moment.”
“Henry David Thoreau has a ten inch penis. I never heard that,” said Stacy.
“Emerson’s was even larger. He had the biggest prick in Lowell, Massachusetts. It’s on display in the Lowell Museum.”
“You are confusing Emerson with Dillinger, an easy mistake to make,” said Stacy.
“Cock size played an important role in our country’s history beginning with George Washington whose cock head was the model for the Great Seal of the United States.”
“Well, he was a Mason and they do something funny with their cocks. You should write a history book titled Great American Cocks,” said Stacy. “It would be a best seller.”
“A better title might be Pricks Who Changed the Course of History.”
“The homosexual only version could be titled Profiles in Sodomy,” said Stacy. “I understand one of the younger Kennedy boys would be interested in a co-authorship.”
“It is a neglected field of study,” said Portia looking thoughtful.
“So what are Kendra and her submissive hubby looking to do with us,” asked Stacy?
“First we will lunch and discuss limits and safe words. They have two whipping benches where they will be restrained. The husband is into CBT,” said Portia.
“CBT, don’t know that one,” said Stacy.
“Cock and ball torture, per his loving wife, Lloyd adores having his privates stretched and zippered.”
“Zippered, my S&M vocabulary is really lacking. What is meant by zippered?”
“A zipper in the sado-masochistic sense is multiple clothespins connected by a chord or string. Zippers are simple homemade instruments of torture. Imagine I place a clothespin on the loose skin on the inside of your thigh just above your knee. The next clothespin is maybe two inches higher. I continue upward until I reach your labia placing the last one on your clit,” said Portia. “I take another zipper and do the other thigh. Or one can travel from your armpit to your breast with the last one flattening your nipple.”
“Just thinking about it hurts,” said Stacy gently grabbing her breast. “But why the term zipper?”
“Zipper torture is hellishly painful but the moment of truth comes when the dominatrice takes hold of the chord and zips them off all at once. The blood rushes back into the collapsed capillaries and your pain centers all fire together,” said Portia.
“And how do you know this,” asked Stacy.
“My older sister Margaux formed an S&M club at our high school and I was her slave. What a girl will not do to be popular. She and her friends loved to tie me up and experiment with zippers. I can recall screaming my lungs out when they counted to three and off they came. The armpits and the back of the knees were particularly sensitive.”
“I missed a lot being an only child,” said Stacy. “Besides zippers, what else?”
“A collection of whips and canes, ball stretchers, nipple clamps, pretty much the S&M gear you find in the average suburban home. They also plan to video the session,” said Portia.
“So we are going to make them scream,” asked Stacy?
“Yes, if we can work out times we’re both free, I’ll give her a call. It might be fun to spend an afternoon torturing them in the town where the embattled Minutemen stood and fired the shot heard round the world. Say you’ll come along. She invited you, too. Her husband had a thing for young beautiful blondes.”
“Sounds like fun, I’m in if you need another whip arm. Did you get a chance to sample super cock,” asked Stacy. “I never saw Ellis after he and his black buddy double fucked Leslie.”
“Oh yes, I have been meaning to tell you about that. He and his buddy are the reason I might be wearing a diaper for a month. I’m not sure my asshole still closes.”
“You little slut, what happened? Tell me about it,” said Stacy.
“During last night’s orgy I observed a gentleman I recalled fucking earlier that morning having a furtive conversation with Leslie Cabot. His name was Bryan. At least I think that was what he said while hammering his penis in my asshole. He looked very conspiratorial; glancing around to make sure no one was listening.”
“Maybe it was about drugs. There were certainly enough of them on the premises,” said Stacy.
“My first thought too but there was something about his body language that intrigued me. Plus I was curious about what in that den of depravity required a hushed conversation,” said Portia.
“You have a point.”
“They didn’t talk long. Bryan left quickly then came back in five minutes and handed Leslie a piece of paper I took to be a check. Leslie made a cell phone call. There was a little back and forth between Bryan and Leslie as she talked to whoever was on the other end. Call finished she takes the man by the hand and leads him to a door right off the main entrance. He disappears through the door. Leslie pulls out the check, smiles, and kisses it.”
“Perhaps an additional hefty donation to Women In Harm’s Way by someone dutifully impressed with its good work and the way we fucked his brains out.”
“Possibly but that doesn’t explain what was downstairs. Approximately an hour later, Bryan returns and he has that sneaky look men and boys get when they’ve done something wrong but enjoyed the hell out of it, the way my little brother looked after he’d been in the laundry hamper sniffing soiled panties.”
“Nothing gets by you. You’re the female Sherlock Holmes,” said Stacy.
“Thank you. I might add the female Holmes made those observations while sucking the cock of the fattest and drunkest man there,” said Portia. “I was afraid he was going to keel over and crush me.”
“That must have been Doug. He’s a big time real estate developer whose wife does not believe in anal. His was one of the butt holes Traci and I fucked with a strapon cock. Did you massage Doug’s prostate while you fellated him,” asked Stacy?
“Of course, these innocent little fingers stroked his walnut while he complemented my oral and digital efforts with encouraging remarks like, ‘Finger fuck my shithole, you cock sucking pig whore’,” said Portia holding up two fingers.
“Doug’s pillow talk was limited to pig whore, slut and the ever favorite cunt,” said Stacy. “So, your story?”
“Sorry, I digress. I’m afraid I killed the brain cells last night that make my mind function. Having relieved Doug’s testicles of their contents, I found myself sans cock for a moment and took a peek behind the mystery door. There were steps leading to the basement,” said Portia.
“Ah, to the dungeon below,” said Stacy. “I had a feeling there was some bizarre kinky sex happening somewhere in that pile of granite.”
“Not exactly but lets not get ahead of the story. Not wanting to be a nosey guest, I returned to the orgy, located a penis in need of servicing, and got busy working on behalf of Women In Harm’s Way,” said Portia.
“So you never discovered what was below,” asked Stacy?
“Yes, I did discover it later after I had consumed four California slammers, fucked more than my share of donors, and my good manners had dissolved in a cocktail of alcohol, semen and Ecstasy. I saw another man performing the same ritual with Leslie, the only difference being he pulled a roll of bills out of his pocket instead of writing a check. His name was Keith and he was one of the two hunters who enjoyed my favors that afternoon,” said Portia.
“You were the target of Keith’s paintball pellet,” asked Stacy?
“Dead center in my left breast and it hurt like blazes,” said Portia. “The rings magnify the pain of a paintball pellet.”
“Rape in the forest brought out the macho in my hunters,” said Stacy. “The bastards loved it when I begged them not to hurt me.”
“Mine too, they trussed me up until I couldn’t move an inch then whipped my ass until I was screaming my head off before they fucked me,” said Portia.
“Don’t forget the joy of the famed Bangkok Bud Crushers. They may have permanently altered the shape of my nipples. All of the hostesses looked the worse for wear after the hunt. You followed Keith?”
“Not immediately, I was playing one of Carole’s silly sex games and couldn’t follow until it ended. I should have won by the way,” said Portia.
“What was the prize,” asked Stacy?
“It was a multi-functional dildo with a stopper on one end that you could adhere to a tile floor and impale yourself on a column of latex designed to stimulate your G-spot. It also had a long donut-ringed phallus for your anus and a vibrator attachment for your clit. It plugged into a wall socket so you didn’t need batteries.”
“So how did you lose such a treasure,” asked Stacy?
“Carole judged my efforts at performing in the female superior position inferior to that of Suzanne.”
“You could out screw Suzanne any day,” said Stacy. “It must have been a fixed fuck.”
“I don’t think Carole likes Goths,” said Portia.
“Speaking of Carole, as the orgy was ending and even the most powerful of big pharma’s cock hardening drugs could no longer bring our exhausted male donors to erection, I saw her sitting in the corner crying her eyes out. She was naked too, which was a little odd since every time I saw her before that she was fully dressed. I asked her if anything was wrong but she burst into tears and rushed past me up the stairs.”
“Therein lies a sad story. Several of the hostesses including myself found the Regional Director a little bossy and pushy when it came to directing how we were screwing the men. She actually told me to lock my ankles and pump harder while I was fucking the one they called Red. I informed her that I had been having intercourse for over a decade and Red’s girth precluded my ankles from reaching that far,” said Portia.
“Traci told me Carole used to be an activities director on a cruise ship,” said Stacy.
“That’s a bossy job by definition. Anyhow, we hostesses having tired of Carole’s dictatorial ways decided to have some fun with her. You’re right about Carole being clothed and staying vertical. While we were all getting our brains fucked out, Carole’s knees stayed in contact with one another. Traci and I along with Kendra and several others developed an action plan,” said Portia.
“Carole’s not bad. She could stand to lose a few pounds. She has beautiful eyes,” said Stacy. “She mentioned something about my joining the board of Women’s In Harm’s Way once I graduate. So what did you and your crew do to the poor woman?”
“Eight of us grabbed her, stripped her, and tied her up in a very exposed and vulnerable position. We meant no harm just having a little girl fun. Those nylon straps with the Velcro fasteners that Leslie provided the men for the paintball hunt work extremely well,” said Portia.
“Tell me about it. My captors practically broke my back bending me over a log,” said Stacy.
“In less time, than a cowboy can rope and throw a steer we had Carole’s ankles and wrists tied behind the back of her neck. We also gagged her,” said Portia. “Her position occasioned some very deep finger fucking by the eight of us.”
“An uncomfortable position if one is not seriously into yoga. So she was exposed and vulnerable while surrounded by drunken horny males. Sounds erotic. If I didn’t hurt all over, I’d get horny. Big deal, she was forced to do what the rest of us had been doing all day. Seems only fair. I assume she was penetrated.”
“Yes, we recruited all available males so Carole could pull a train for charity. It was two and sometimes three cocks at once. She was not a good sport about it either. But her crying and blubbering only served to encourage the rape pack we assembled.”
“Men love rape and a good rape requires an unwilling female. Nothing hardens a cock quicker than a sobbing woman begging not to be violated. So what was Carole’s problem?” said Stacy.
“Leslie happened to notice what was happening but only after Carole had been fucked more and less senseless. She made us untie the poor woman then proceeded to explain Carole had been a committed lesbian since she was in middle school.”
“Oops, you did a bad thing. But what the hell, most lesbians can deal with the occasional penis,” said Stacy.
“Carole had been on a strict no cock diet since birth. She’s married her lesbian partner last year. Since she was wearing a wedding ring, I assumed she was married to a man and was cock aware. It turns out Carole is a dedicated rug muncher that until last night had never been defiled by pecker snot to put it crudely.”
“Pecker snot, that is crude and disgusting especially since my stomach is still recovering from all the rich food and pecker snot I consumed last night,” said Stacy.
“Well, c’est la guerre. I’m not going to get in a funk about it. How were we to know the forty something woman advising us how to better screw our partners was a virgin? Perhaps, we opened a whole new world for her and she’ll become a down and dirty whore like the rest of us.”
“It would serve her right. It was an honest mistake and you have nothing to feel guilty about. Can we get back to your encounter with super cock which I assumed occurred in a vast dungeon under Moynahan Castle?”
“Actually it was the basement laundry room. I am truly brain dead this morning. Where was I? Oh yes, it was ten or fifteen minutes before I placed my unsteady high heel on those dark stairs where I almost fell and broke my neck. Do you know how long it has been since I wore a pair of fuck me pumps?” said Portia.
“How long?”
“Never, last night was my first time.”
“Until I started going out with Mike, they were new to me,” said Stacy.
“You didn’t have a problem. You were dancing on the table like Anne Miller,” said Portia.
“Who’s Anne Miller?”
“Famous Hollywood dancer, well before our time,” said Portia.
“Why couldn’t I have chosen a roommate that didn’t know everything,” said Stacy?
“You didn’t choose me. The Harvard Housing computer paired us,” said Portia.
“A marriage made in circuitry,” said Stacy reaching out to squeeze Portia’s hand then bring it to her lips and kissing it.
“When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I heard noises.”
“What kind of sounds,” asked Stacy?
“Couldn’t tell at first but when I got closer, it was a man moaning,” said Portia.
“So Leslie set up a dungeon for donors with a taste for S&M. Why am I not surprised? Who was the dominatrix?” said Stacy.
“My thoughts at first but I turned out to be wrong,” said Portia. “As I got closer I went into stealth mode and removed my stiletto heels. They are very noisy on a stone floor. When I peered around the corner and discovered the source of the moaning I was shocked, surprised and completely taken back by the depravity I witnessed. It almost destroyed my faith in human nature.”
“So tell me about this depravity. You know of my keen interest in the sinful nature of mankind,” said Stacy.
“There in an alcove was Mr. Super Cock and his black buddy performing homosexual acts with Keith who apparently paid Leslie for the privilege of double sodomy,” said Portia. “An individual I might add whose cock had been in yours truly orifices that very day when he captured me during paintball.”
“You already knew Ellis appeared in gay porn. Didn’t we watch the DVD of Raw Recruits we ordered from the Internet while we shared the enormous Rod Stryker double dildo we bought at the adult store on Mystic Avenue?” said Stacy.
“Yes but there is a difference from watching it on screen and seeing the real Ellis Trabert AKA Rod Stryker working the tortured asshole of Keith or whatever his name is,” said Portia.
“I fucked a Keith yesterday. A not very large guy with a four incher and balls the size of marbles,” said Stacy.
“Yes, Keith the animal who pounded the living shit out of my pussy then sounded his war cry of eek as he unleashed a torrent of molten semen into my quivering womanhood,” said Portia laughing.
“He insisted on calling me Mommie when he was screwing me in the ass. So Keith is on the down low. You said there was the black performer with Ellis?” said Stacy.
“Yes, an Afro-American who I gather had also appeared in gay porn. They had decorated the walls with still pictures of themselves,” said Portia. “There was one of those combination DVD and television players showing a film they made together. Twinks being cornholed by over endowed muscle men must be the predominant gay fantasy.”
“Twinks, what’s a twink?”
“Skinny young males who lack body hair, usually blonde and not too smart, the gay equivalent of the blonde bimbo,” said Portia.
“Ergo I am a female version of a twink, being a blonde bimbo,” said Stacy.
“While you are a blonde, you are definitely not a bimbo,” said Portia.
“Doug, fat Doug, kept referring to me in that fashion,” said Stacy.
“In spite of his money, Doug is a low class cretin. No wonder his wife won’t let him use her backdoor,” said Portia. “I was absolutely shocked when I woke up this morning with my arm draped over his fat gut.”
“We should find out who she is and seduce her. We could get her drunk then let Monk and Les savage her anus for the video camera. Their Prince Alberts would wreck a virgin asshole. We could send Doug a copy showing him how real men perform anal sex. Sorry for the interruption. Please continue your story of the fascinating adventure you had while I was upstairs entertaining gentlemen for a worthy cause,” said Stacy.
“If by entertaining, you mean dancing naked on a table stopping in front of each gentleman so he could lick your private parts and drink champagne out of your pussy or ass then I am delinquent in not joining you,” said Portia.
“No matter, what transpired? Who was the black man?” asked Stacy.
“His film name is Dick Black. God knows what his real name is. I bet I can find it in the WEB,” said Portia.
“Dick Black, how devastatingly original. Was his dick black?” said Stacy.
“Yes, and thick, long, and beautiful,” said Portia. “He and Super Cock are a matched pair except for color.”
“My heart and pussy just skipped a beat at the thought. Please continue with your narrative.”
“Unnoticed I watched and for obvious reasons practiced self abuse. Keith was being placed in different positions by these two body builder types and fucked like a rag doll in both ass and mouth. It was awesome to say the least watching those two muscular giants putting the stones to poor little Mommie loving Keith. It was not long before he orgasmed covering the floor with several gallons of steaming spunk. Fortunately there was a drain trap in the floor that allowed the flood of jism to escape into the aquifer. No doubt the well water of Lake Winnipesaukee residents will taste different for a few days,” said Portia.
“Your tale is the stuff of oral legends. You should hand it down through the generations so they can sing of your odyssey around the campfires,” said Stacy.
“Keith exhausted by his ordeal limped off back upstairs. I hid in a dark corner as he passed.”
“Now for the climax of our story,” said Stacy.
“Keith having left, our two heroes performed a ritual cleansing. They were busily washing each other’s cocks when I appeared out of the dark and demanded a fuck,” said Portia.
“What did you say,” asked Stacy?
“Please sirs, have pity on a desperately horny slut. I’ve been upstairs fucking needle dicks all evening. I crave entry into my openings of your great and powerful members. I am a friend and follower of the super whore, Lady Stacia Todd,” said Portia.
“You didn’t really say that,” asked Stacy?
“It was close, not exact.”
“How did they react,” asked Stacy?
“They were dumbfounded so I asked if I could wash their cocks for them. They were standing by a large sink. The place must have been the castle’s laundry at one time,” said Portia.
“And they agreed,” asked Stacy?
“Carpe diem, before they could say yea or nay I seized the moment and stepped up to the sink, grabbed the bar of fine French soap and proceeded to work up a lather. Men, even gay porn stars, adore having their dicks washed.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for the next time I encounter a dirty dick,” said Stacy.
“A thorough washing followed by drying with a soft towel and they both agreed to fulfill my request provided Leslie did not send another faggot wantabe their way. I dropped to my knees in gratitude. Rod and Dick mistaking my gesture of appreciation for a desire for oral sex placed their cock heads at my lips. For the next several minutes, this maid was skull fucked unmercifully,” said Portia. “The capacity of the human throat to expand is amazing.”
“But you persevered,” said Stacy.
“Trenton girls who can’t deep throat are declared surplus. They are chained to beds in crack houses and never heard from again. Using techniques learned at rest stops along the New Jersey Turnpike, I gave each mega dick a throat massage that so impressed them they decided to accommodate my unnatural desires.”
“You took them both at once,” asked Stacy? “You greedy little tramp. I would have been more than happy to help.”
“Unfortunately I had neither time nor means to contact you. They started slow with one cock in my pussy and one in my mouth. I could swear that when they both penetrated to the max, their dick heads bumped noses in my GI tract. There I was all one hundred and twenty five, all right one hundred and thirty five, pounds of me in between these goliaths being fucked like a pig on a spit. They switched a couple of times to give me a taste of my lower intestines,” said Portia.
“And how was it,” asked Stacy?
“Delicious but needed more seasoning. Right when I was on the verge of being screwed to death, they relented,” said Portia.
“They stopped,” asked Stacy?
“No, they changed positions. They put me top of Ellis with his great manhood in my vagina and his powerful hands separating my butt cheeks for his accomplice. He literally pulled my asshole open. Then in the classic Cow Girl Double Penetration position, Dick lubed up my rear, open it wide with hands the side of catcher’s mitts and proceeded to fill my ass with his foot long sausage. It was a rare and profound moment when I got those two cocks inside my abdomen. I showed my appreciation by moaning louder than Keith as the two seasoned double penetrators synchronized their movements. The withdrawal of Dick’s cock created a powerful vacuum in my rectum while the intrusion of Rod compressed the air in my pussy. The end result was an orgasm that refused to end.”
“You’re lucky not to be bleeding internally,” said Stacy. “What happened next?”
“Reverse Cow Girl Double Penetration, those guys are so strong and muscular, they bruise you when they slam it home. My pussy and butt are purple this morning,” said Portia. “But the worst or best was yet to come.”
“There was more,” asked Stacy?
“Yes, they put me in a shoulder stand between them and put both their cocks in my vagina at the same time. I passed out from the pain. I’m pretty sure they ruined any possibility of my bearing children. I thought they were splitting me in two,” said Portia. “It was amazing how they forced themselves inside me.”
“You fainted?”
“Yes, wouldn’t anybody with two super sized pricks in her cunt? They revived me by holding a bottle of poppers to my nostrils. They wanted me awake for the finale,” said Portia.
“That wasn’t the finale,” said Stacy.
“No, back into the shoulder stand I went. Rod inserted a speculum in my asshole and cranked my butthole open like the Lincoln Tunnel. They filled my rectum with several sixteen ounce sticks of shortening,” said Portia.
“How do you know they were sixteen ounce sticks,” asked Stacy?
“As they unwrapped the sticks, they dropped the wrappers on my face. They were clearly marked sixteen ounces of poly-hydrogenated vegetable shortening. It was not a brand you would find in your neighborhood supermarket. There was an institutional sized box of it sitting on a table. They also placed two sticks in my pussy,” said Portia.
“I assume they weren’t planning to cook with them,” said Stacy.
“No, they fisted me. White goo ran out of my holes and down my body. I looked like a shortening fountain. Once they had me stuffed with hydrogenated vegetable oil they removed the speculum and forced their hands inside my pussy and ass,” said Portia.
“I wouldn’t have thought that was possible,” said Stacy.
“Nor I but it was. Pain wise I imagine it was comparable to childbirth. They put their oversized hands in my hole, made a fist and pushed. I passed out again. They woke me with another hit of poppers then continued to fist me while I begged them to stop. They were smiling, laughing, and enjoying themselves immensely. It was a wonderful moment for me too, both erotic and romantic. They then proceeded to put both their cocks in my vagina for a long slow double fucking. That part I enjoyed in spite of the agony of being stretched past that of childbirth. For the finale they proved to me both hands would fit in my asshole. That hurt too much to pass out. I suppose the basement must be soundproof because no one heard me screaming,” said Portia.
“How did it end,” asked Stacy?
“They unloaded on my face covering it in a sheen of pearly white semen. Having done with me, they got me to my wobbly feet, slapped me hard on my ass, kissed me, and sent me on my way with their laughter ringing in my ears,” said Portia. “I managed to climb upstairs and rejoin the orgy.”
“How did you and Traci end up with Doug,” asked Stacy?
“At some point, Doug took Traci and I by the hand and drug us upstairs. He got on the bed and presented us with his asshole demanding a deep tissue massage. Such an act requires lubricant so I suggested Traci treat my anal cavity as a resource. She stuck her arm up my loose ass coating it with slightly used shortening. Being flexible I was able to insert my hand and wrist in my own hole acquiring sufficient vegetable oil for the two of us to provide Doug a rarely performed two handed prostate massage.”
“You’re kidding,” said a disbelieving Stacy.
“I would not have believed it possible and I would not have attempted it unless I was drunk out of my mind. However, we managed after much hard shoving to get both hands in his butt and take hold of the gland in question. Doug bellowed like a bull in heat to encourage our efforts. A few minutes of double stroking and he released his final batch of the night. It had an unusually thick and creamy consistency that Traci and I enjoyed.”
“You swallowed it of course,” said Stacy.
“Girls who don’t swallow are never popular with guys and don’t get asked out on second dates. Plus I was curious.”
“Lessons learned,” asked Stacy?
“The human body has an amazing ability to adapt to insertion of large objects. Also I learned fat men keep a girl warm.”
“Surprised you did not injure him,” said Stacy.
“Apparently not, since this morning he woke me with a loud fart as he daintily climbed out of bed, went to the bathroom, and pissed a gallon of strong yellow. Then he left.”
“Strong yellow, how did you know it was strong,” asked Stacy?
“He didn’t flush. It was cloudy dark yellow green pee. I suspect it could function as paint remover. Plus I could smell it from the bed so I had to climb over you and send it to the septic tank. It smelled awful. I almost puked.”
“It sounds like you had a very interesting and challenging evening,” said Stacy.
“Yes, but at a price. This morning I had to steal one of the Castle’s hand towels. It’s in the crack of my ass. Shortening keeps leaking out of my butt hole and I didn’t want to stain your leather seats.”
“Is it an experience you would repeat if you had the chance,” asked Stacy?
“In a New Jersey minute.”
“That’s my girl,” said Stacy.
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