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NOTE: This is the 5th Chapter of the story, You may wish to read Chapter 1 first.
Saturday. Time for kickoff. Inauguration night for the big sex quest. Our regular bar, the Double Eagle, was packed and I didn’t have to work until Monday morning. I planned on getting a double to start this little competition with a bang. One before midnight. One after midnight.
Our town was indeed a hick town, but it was party bar central for a large geographic area. We had nine decent pickup bars to choose from. Country, rock and roll, dance, metal, a cougar bar, everything in between, and most of them were jumping from Thursday to Saturday.
My first pick was Lisa. I had done Lisa back in high school. Fumbling, awkward exploratory, useless sex. Teen sex. Stupid sex. She wasn’t much to look at back then, but she had morphed into something much better over the past seven years. Medium height, medium looks, but a stone killer curvy body. A combo I found attractive, because medium look chicks always put out more than the super hotties. Most super hotties were on the lazy side. Their looks had propelled them through their entire lives. Effort was foreign to them. Even in the bedroom. They expected pampering, and caressing, and wooing, and people telling them how pretty they were.
Lisa was wearing a tight sweater, short skirt and nice, expensive, brown boots. I always loved the boots and the heels. Any kind of high footwear. The high heels tried to say control, power, confidence, decisiveness. Chick psyche. The high heels actually said something else. Off balance, tottering, adventurous, out of control, not responsible for what comes next. Guy psyche. There could be nothing hotter than a school teacher or librarian wearing five inch spikes.
On the attractiveness scale, Lisa was a solid six. Actually, tonight I am going to give her a six point five. For the body and the boots. She had always been a super nice kid, and was currently working the classy chick angle. Good effort all around.
Lisa had been gnawing at the bone ever since graduation to revisit the magical, cherry pop-ping night. She carried a torch for me because I was her first. I knew I could take advantage and cash my chips with Lisa. I was already scouting ahead for number two. I would take my time with number two, have some fun. I had a damn good idea who number two was going to be.
A few beers for me, a few drinks for Lisa, lots of small talk about the good old days. Her fire rekindled quickly. We were sitting on my couch at thirty minutes before midnight. The usual petting and groping, me keeping an eye on the clock. At a quarter to midnight we snuggled back into my bedroom to do the deed. It was fun and sweaty and good, it was straight forward, and it was done. As I blew my load into her, a number ticked off in my head. The number was one. What a strange sensation.
Check. One up, one down. Thirty to go.
This was going to be no problem.
The clock on the bedside table ticked past midnight. Sorry honey, no time for small talk or cuddling. We will talk about ‘getting back together’, or ‘hooking up again’, later. Much later. You have no idea what you have become a part of.
Welcome to the legend.
The legend of me.
It was time to grab number two. I drove Lisa home. She wanted to kiss and hug and kiss some more. Wow. Let it go girl. There won’t be a ring exchange any time soon.
After dropping Lisa at her place, I returned to the bar. The boys and girls had continued their steady drinking. Why wouldn’t they? They were all there to get laid.
Number two was as easy as shooting fish in a barrel. Number two had arrived at the bar with Lisa, and was in fact, one of her best friends. Love the best friends. I was excited about this one. Jenna was her name. Tall, skinny, freckled, long hair dyed black. The black hair had crazy red flaming tips. Again, not a pretty girl, probably a six, and no tits, so she would be a definite tiger in the sack.
Surfboard chicks always made up for their sad chests with effort. They either loved to eat dick, or they were fuck pigs. I was gunning for the fuck pig angle. Jenna wore tight, faded low rider jeans, a perfect showcase for her perfect ass. Those small tits were hidden under a half tee shirt, her white flat belly showed below. Some kind of belly button jewelry was attached to her navel. The jewelry was probably bigger than her tits. Jenna was a no brainer. My cock was al-ready hungry. I was going to split this skinny bitch in two.
By one in the morning, Jenna was back at my place, on the same couch Lisa had been on. I felt about one second of guilt, as I smelled Lisa and our sex all over the condo. You know what? Jenna could probably smell it too. She wasn’t retarded.
Jenna and Lisa were buddies. They wouldn’t screw each other over a guy, would they? Of course they would. Because Jenna watched Lisa and I walk out of the bar, sixty minutes ago.
A happy thought ran through my mind. A double. What if I did a double? How would it count? I smiled to myself. I would nail down a double on this quest, for the hell of it.
Back to Jenna. Since I was getting an early start on number two, and would be off duty until Monday, I will give Jenna something to remember. After the prerequisite necking and fondling on the couch, I managed to peel those skin tight jeans off her ass. Looking at her teeny, tiny, almost not there panties, my knees weakened and down I went. I tore the panties off, shredding them onto the floor. My legendary tongue worked the poor girl into a frenzy; she was panting and begging, a true dog.
Isn’t ‘Fuck me please’ the best line ever?
When a guy hears those words coming out of a chick’s mouth, it is our call to duty.
I turned the dripping Jenna around, pushed her down onto the couch, onto her knees. Ass out. Facing away from me. Remember, she wasn’t a pretty girl. She threw her hands up on the back rest, knowing what was coming. I pulled out my rock hard dick and fed her doggy style, slowly at first, then slamming her over the couch. Of course, negligent me, I had completely forgotten to close my living room curtains, and a single light burned on an end table. Bad, bad me. The picture of me fucking her was perfectly framed by the bare window. A couple of passersby on the street were thoroughly enjoying the show.
I didn’t mind.
The voyeurism was something I was beginning to get into. I had contemplated setting up video cameras in the living room and bedroom. One day I would see this through. I couldn’t think of anything hotter than watching myself in the sex act. Sweating, straining, popping musculature all over, my thick, gorgeous cock in all its glory. Wow, too much.
Then I could pause, rewind, freeze frame it all. Grabbing handfuls of these girls hair, slap-ping their asses, pounding their pussies, folding them up into pretzels and bringing the hammer down. Yes indeed, this would make for some fantastic porn. Only, it wouldn’t be stoned chicks and boring actors.
It would be real. It would be me.
Anyhow, super ass, skinny Jenna was number two.
Check. Two up, two down. This was too easy. It was only one thirty in the morning. I had the rest of this Sunday off to refill my balls. Tomorrow was Monday. The Wing Hut Bar and Grill would be hopping with thirty cent wings and pitchers of beer. Lots of guys would be eating and drinking, lots of girls following the guys. Number three should be no problem. I wonder how the other boys are doing, on this inaugural night of our mission.
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