Thursday, February 03, 2005


I slipped my room key into my pocket and brushed the top of my new toy’s hand. As we moved towards the door I hummed under my breath “some kind of wonderful” and the door clicked softly as we let it close softly behind us.

The harsh fluorescent lights of the institutional hallway hit me like a punch to the gut and I blinked my eyes. The Toy twittered on next to me but I felt full and satisfied, despite having just emptied myself into his eager mouth, and a little smirk curled the corners of my lips as I nodded to whatever it was that he was going on about.

We made our way down the hall to the last door at the end and knocked. There was a muffled giggle and a feminine voice called “who is it?”

My companion shouted our arrival, perhaps a touch overly loud, and the door swung open, a disheveled acquaintance leaning heavily against the door, propped up by the door knob. In the back ground a petit dark haired girl with tattoos scrawled on the inside of her forearms. The Vixen.

There was an ominous swelling behind the fly of the young man’s jeans as he gazed at us with bulging eyes and bleary. We took it as an invitation to enter the room, crowded with furniture but empty of all occupants except the vixen and her bug-eye companion.

We entered the room and the unsteady young man swung the door closed behind us. The vixen sat straddling one of those terribly uncomfortable desk chairs the University housing graced each and every one of its student housing rooms with, in duplicate or triplicate. The seams of her blue jeans were stretched tightly along her inner thigh and across her no-doubt deliciously moist cunt and her clothes were ever so slightly in disarray.

My toy and I took the two other desk chairs and the limping alcoholic slumped against a desk. The conversation wandered from person to person, after all people are always willing to talk about themselves since it’s really the only topic they can ever hope to be absolute experts in.

Finally I breathed out heavily, pushing air through my nostrils in an audible sigh. I got up and grabbed the still not quite receded bulge in the alcoholic’s pants and ordered him “cum.”

He swallowed thickly and I watched his Adam’s apple bob and jerk. He nodded slowly but quickly unzipped his pants and pulled out his dick. With a loose and well practiced wrist movement he moved a loose fist up and down along the shaft of the penis. I watched with interest as he became more aroused and his testicles started to draw close to his body, the pale skin of the scrotum contrasting with the flushed color of the shaft. As he continued to work the shaft he used his thumb to rub the thick ridge of his corona, each stroke of this sensitive flesh sending his Adam’s apple into veritable convulsions.

Finally the moment came, and so did he. With an expert movement he caught the welling of white liquid in a cupped hand and looked up at his audience with a grin.

The vixen looked at the alcoholic with a mixture of surprise and disgust.

My pet and I smirked.

To be continued…

1 comment:

Phoenix said...

I'm adding you to my bookmarks... I enjoyed reading this post, and a few of the previous ones. Great work. :)