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NOTE: This is the 18th Chapter of the story, You may wish to read Chapter 1 first.
I was sitting at seven up, seven down. Plus a bonus night with Charlene. Pretty effortless, thus far. Being a young guy, I anticipated the simplicity would continue at Rico’s house party. I wasn’t wrong. The party was already rocking when I got there.
While I did anticipate tough middle weeks as the month continued, I also anticipated a potentially tough Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Because on those two nights, the bars were closed. Most people were dedicated to their significant others or staying home. These were possible hooker nights. A small price to pay for fame. I could probably get a freebie off a hooker. After all the old bastards they serviced, they would be thrilled to do a specimen such as me.
The house was packed, the music was jumping and girls were everywhere. It was a true pussy haven. You couldn’t take three steps without running into some. Young, hot, tight, plenty of bare skin, nobody here for intellectual conversation or to find a friend. It was pick and choose. More fish in a barrel.
My good Amigo and party host Rico introduced me to Meagan and Teagan. Twenty-two year olds they were. A weird duet of small girls who looked identical, but weren’t related. They didn’t really look identical, but their clothes, hair and makeup were exactly the same. The girls wore their hair pitch black, in a short, almost bowl-style cut. They dressed in ripped, white tee shirts. They showed the same tattoos on their forearms and shoulders. The same ear, nose and eyebrow piercings. The same shredded jeans. The same black booties. The same skinny arms and legs, and they were the same height as little Meena. Where little Meena was gorgeous, these girls appeared dirty. Trashy. I may have seen them on Jerry Springer. A little creepy, this copycat thing. I was getting a whiff of lesbian from them.
This wasn’t the midget Euro duo Sara and Teagan with the awesome music, but these girls were pretty damn close. This night was going to be an easy double, with plenty of bodywork.
Despite the attitude these two tried to exude, they were simple little fuck pigs. My kind of fuck pigs. The punk rock generation was long gone, we were all raised in mediocre American comfort and the revolution against authority was over before it began. We spent way too much money on clothing styles, tattoos and hair colorant in a sad attempt to change what we were born as. Change us to what we wanted to be. Help us find our real selves. What bullshit. You were who you were. Simple. Coloring your hair or plastering tats all over your body changed nothing. Except your bank balance.
Today, there wasn’t anything to rebel against, but these two were trying hard. Perhaps they were ugly little cretins under those masks. The harder I looked at them, the more I realized they were far from the female ideal. Skinny chickens, not curvy, not great asses, nothing for tits.
What was my motivation?
The number counter, my friend, the number counter.
Also, weird or creepy was always okay, wasn’t it?
You bet it was.
Hold the phone, because within five minutes of being introduced, the girls made it crystal clear they did everything together. Everything, they repeated. Got it girls, I am not a retard.
I was glad I wore my wristwatch. With the glow-in-the dark numbers. I would have to do one before midnight, and one after midnight. The first one might be tricky. Because the record I was chasing stipulated dumping seed into each participant. I would have to shoot and pinch it with the first one. Or fuck the first one, and then play with the second one for ten or fifteen minutes before doing her.
Ah, the challenge of this hunt. What a man must put himself through in the pursuit of glory. My mind was working the angles as I sipped my beer.
The dainty duet was guzzling identical pink drinks on the rocks. Getting identically drunk. Running off to the bathroom together. Coming back together, reeking of pot. Giggling together.
I checked my watch. Eleven twenty-five. Time to start this juggling act. I knew Rico’s old two story house like the back of my hand. Bedroom number three I would use for tonight’s wet work.
Beer in hand, I hustled the girls up the stairs and down the hallway. I chuckled to myself. On a hard party night such as this, it might be wise for Rico to number the doors and hand out little keys. The coupling would get pretty heavy as the drinks and pot were ingested in ever increasing amounts.
Teagan and Meagan were both pretty hammered. The kissing started. Me and Teagan. Then Meagan cut in. Then Meagan started kissing Teagan. Nice. Then they turned on me and began to strip my shoes, socks, pants, shirt and underwear. They reminded me of little piranha fish. Drunk, yet fast and efficient. They peeled off each other’s clothes as I lay back on the bed. In the gloom of the bedroom I couldn’t tell which one was which. One of them began to eat my cock and the other slid beside me to neck. The one I was necking with had no tits, there wasn’t a lot for me to grab onto. I found her ass which was small and tight, and then I found her pussy which was small and tight. Soon her pussy was finger wet. I pulled her on top of me, sliding her crotch up to my face. She twisted completely around, facing her buddy, pushed down on my mouth and began to grind.
My tongue was up to the challenge, especially with my cock in her buddy’s warm mouth. The chick on top of me bent forward, my cock felt cool air, and then it was warm and wet again. A bit of sixty-nine action. The girls were taking turns slurping on my monster. Probably deciding who would go first. The girl on my face pulled off, the other chick was right there with her mouth, kissing at me, slurping at her friend’s pussy juice.
I was able to check my watch. Eight minutes to midnight. I needed one of these tighties on me pronto. I lifted the one eating pussy off of my face, positioned her over my sword, and then slowly lowered her down. It was a damn tight fit, and I could sense the pain of discomfort through the darkness.
Oh well. When you run with the bulls…
I was gentle with her. At least until she was down all the way. I thought my cock might push up into her stomach, into her organs, she was so small.
She was a trooper. She was doing her bodywork, for sure. Or, she was a veteran fuck pig and had absorbed many, many cocks in her short time on earth. Because she immediately began the ride movement. Slowly at first. Then quicker, with control and rhythm. With expertise. Okay, okay, this girl was a veteran.
Her friend was watching. Watching and waiting her turn, I expected. The one on my cock pulled herself off, and her friend climbed on. She was wet from my tongue, and she sat right down on the beast. All the way down. With a loud grunt and a snort of pain.
Another veteran fuck-pig. Lots of cock, for sure.
How else to explain the acceptance of my monster?
You never knew with these little girls.
I felt her clamp on and shift to bronco riding. She bucked up and down, grabbing a nice healthy rhythm. A veteran rhythm. She moaned and drooled. Her friend climbed back on my face in reverse position, to watch the impending orgasm.
As I ate away, I was sure the girls were doing something to each other. Touching or kissing. Maybe playing Sudoku. Damn, I couldn’t see any of it.
I thought about the two girls, kissing on top of me, my entire cock in one of them, my tongue in the other. Such young girls, very adept at riding big cock. These thoughts and the hot, bucking clamp on my cock sent me over the edge. I thrust hard, impaling the girl on my engorged rod. She yelped as I crushed into her. A damn big cock, right honey?
I began to blow, flooding her pussy with hot seed. Her friend was grinding at my face, nearly suffocating me. Thrilled her little buddy orgasmed. The girl on my cock slowed her bucking. She was sweat soaked and spent. She flopped off my cock and slipped to the floor, gasping and panting. The cunt on my face slid off and moved her head between my legs. She lapped at the pussy and cum combo dripping off my cock.
Better than Dairy Queen, right?
I check my watch.
The counter rolled off another.
Number nine was already engaged.
My own chest heaved as I recovered. I wasn’t able to get much air with the little cunt clamped over my mouth. Number nine was crawling down on the bed, cleaning up the excess sexual drippings. My cock was spent, but seeing what she was doing began to tickle my balls.
I grabbed my beer off the end table and took a deep swig. I passed the bottle down to Meagan or Teagan, and she also took a long swig, in fact, she finished the bottle. Then she was back to my balls, and thighs. My cock was stirring. I could smell nothing but pussy and my own cum, a rather intoxicating brew. Number nine lapped at my balls, a mewling cat, and now my balls responded by filling tight. She covered my softened cock with her mouth. No problem honey. Let’s see if you can maintain your position and decorum over the crucial growth phase.
I sat up on the bed, grabbed her short ugly haircut and forced her to stay on my cock. She sucked away at it, the growth starting to fill her little mouth. The growth pushed against her gag reflex. The sucking stopped and she was mostly gasping. Surviving.
I kept my hands on her head and she tried to work it, the game little cunt. My bell was moving into her throat, and she was struggling. The base of my shaft was visible, about three inches worth. Number nine was eating six inches, with some of the inches breeching her throat.
With a violent backpressure, she blew off my cock and began to vomit. The beer she consumed plus the fancy pink drinks, spewed across Rico’s bed.
So much for decorum.
Hey, when you run with the bulls…
These two little girls would have lots to talk about tomorrow. One of them spent, crumpled at the side of the bed, the other one gagging, trying to stop her heaving.
To my surprise, the little tiger mounted my stiff cock, gasping for fresh air, stifling her puke reflex. Good for her. I let her slide down the pole at her own pace. Then let her get comfortable. She rode a bit, as her breathing returned to normal. Then she began a slight moan. This was my cue. Because her buddy recovered enough to sit back against the wall and watch.
I flipped the weightless waif over, sending her onto her back, me falling on top, all two hundred and ten pounds of beef. Her eyes bugged out of her head as my body weight and full cock landed on her, and in her.
‘ Oh shit’, she must have thought, now I am in trouble. This big bull is angry.
I wasn’t angry.
The big bull was horny.
I glanced at my watch. Seven minutes after midnight. This was awesome. Talk about a stud. I loved myself at this moment. Actually, at all moments. I was ready to hammer number two. I did. I folded the tiny legs up, pointing her pussy towards the ceiling. I pounded her a few quick shots, then looked over at her friend. The friend was wide-eyed. I don’t know if it was because she wasn't involved, or because she and her buddy were never fucked this way before. I think it was both. This made me hornier. I picked up the pace, driving the tight, wet pussy harder. I was pulling halfway out, then slamming back in.
You could hear this from anywhere in the house. Every time I hit her she yelped. Then moaned. The pleasure pain combo was happening. She was a solo act. No tag in from her buddy. No sharing. Every cunt for herself. I lifted her off the bed, impaling her with my cock. Then slammed her down, rocking the bed and the floor beneath. I think her eyes were rolling around in her head. I felt my cock engorge. This chick couldn’t separate from me if she tried. I was stuck in her. Deep. Probably rearranging her internal organs.
I kept the plowing up. Glanced at her friend. Her friend was mesmerized. Or horrified. I didn’t know which. I didn’t care. I had a gigantic orgasm forming, down in the base of the pipe. It needed out. I was rag-dolling the chick, there was nothing left in her. Resistance was futile. Resistance was gone. I stood up, pulling her with me. Carried her around the bed. Slammed her into a wall hard enough to knock a picture down. She gasped, moaned, screamed. Followed by an animal sound I think meant pleasure.
I stepped back and slammed her again. Same result. Gasp, moan, scream, and grunt. I sat back on the bed, and let her finish it. She seemed to be trying to get off me, but my cock was too full. She recognized her plight, understanding her only ticket off was a spent cock.
Surprising me, she began to ride, wrenching my cock hard. I started to shoot. I shot so much I thought my balls would invert and die.
Finally as I spent out, number nine was able to disengage and climb off. Her thin legs trembled as the white spunk dripped out. What a load. Her friend came to help, but I had a better idea. I was able to grab her by the hair, bring her down to my crotch, and push into her mouth. I pushed in deep and hard.
I wanted a true double. A double barf.
I felt my cock breach her gag reflex and yes, within seconds the gag reflex began to rebel. Number eight choked hard, her spreading throat swallowing my cock head. The gagging grew fierce, and at the correct moment, I released her. Sure enough, the fancy pink drinks spewed out. Tears streamed from her eyes as she heaved. I had two naked, black haired, anorexic, tattooed pixies, both fucked out, both fully purged on the head of my giant cock, trembling before me.
At my altar.
This was good.
The dominator and the dominated.
Indeed, these two pals would have stories to tell.
Check. The counter rolled over to the number nine. Meagan and Teagan. Or Teagan and Meagan. Didn’t matter. Both done. Both done with flair. I needed to be careful with the scorecard. Think. Think.
Which was which?
Hole number eight. Teagan. Seven and nine. Hole number nine. Meagan. Seven and nine. Sevens for being the dirty duo, a pretty cool shtick after all. I wasn’t sure where it would take them in life.
A big nine for the double barf. The haggard heaving of a naked, anorexic cunt. Beautiful, times two. The skinny girls made my cock look enormous, like a freaky appendage.
I didn’t need skinny girls to make such a claim.
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