Warning: This story is unsuitable for minors and contains
explicit descriptions of sexual activity considered taboo (and
illegal) in most (if not all) jurisdictions. If such activity
offends you, please DO NOT read any further. I do not condone any
illegal activity and stress that this work is fiction, fantasy,
and in no way meant to reflect reality. Sexual abuse of minors is
a very serious issue and I encourage anyone tempted to engage in
such behavior to seek help immediately.

Title: Too Much of a Good Thing (Humor, SciFi, Mf, Mm, Mg, Mb)
Date of Latest Update to This Story: 12/20/16

Dear Reader: Thank you for taking the time to read my work. If
you wish to drop me a line, feel free. My email address is
(CreepingDawn@protonmail.com) and I look forward to hearing from
you. Additionally, proofreading is not one of my better skills so
if you find errors you believe impact the story's readability,
please let me know. Offers to proofread will be welcomed with
open arms.

Without further adieu...

......................................................

I'm kinda sick of my work. There, I've admitted it. Happy?

I realized it today when my co-workers took me out for lunch. We
were celebrating the one-year anniversary of my hiring and they
thought it a grand opportunity to celebrate. We went to La
Hispana, that little Mexican place down the street? It was good,
I suppose. I ordered the fish tacos.

I always order the fish tacos.

Hmph.

I think it happened sometime between the arrival of the salsa and
me finally getting my plate when it dawned on me that I'm
actually tired of the hassle of working for the Company. Is that
even possible? This was supposed to be the best gig I'd ever
have. Folks with our predilections would call it a "dream job"
and would fight tooth and nail to sign up! And I'm tired of it???

I feel like I'm betraying my people or something.

But I'm sick of it.

Why? Well, I guess the excitement has worn off and the little
things are starting to get to me. Things that wouldn't have
bothered me six months ago now drive me bonkers. Every day, it's
one hassle after another. One problem after another. There isn't
any joy left, you know? I get home at night and just crash. Fuck
it!

What does the Company do, you ask? Oh, sorry! I totally forgot
that you have never heard of us. You'd think that working for a
top-secret organization doing highly illegal and morally
reprehensible stuff would instill in me a sense of covertness. It
hasn't. I mean, I'm telling you this, aren't I?

Let's see. The Company. The Company. Well, we sex-up kids. Boys.
Girls. Pubescent. Pre-pubescent. If they're between six and
sixteen, we'll make them cum over and over again. Actually, our
method is kinda cool if you like tech-mumbo jumbo. I can't tell
you the scientific theory involved but the results go like this.

We got these guys roaming the world looking for kids in that six
to sixteen age range. When they see a candidate they like, our
guys use these really cool cellphone-like things to release these
nano-bots that latch onto the kid and collect their biological
data. I've heard our guys say "mind and body" a bunch of times
(kind of a creepy mantra if you ask me) and I guess that's a good
breakdown of what they're looking for. The bots gather all the
physical parameters of the kid and download a complete copy of
the kids entire brain structure. You know, to get their memories
and personality and... um... their "themness?" Again, I'm not the
tech guy so don't give me a look like you want more detail. I
don't have it! All I know is that the gathered data is
transmitted to our facility where it is stored in a super
computer until we need it.

Eventually, the data is uploaded into the ROOM. You ever seen
that science fiction show with the holodeck? Yeah, that's the
ROOM. It's this place that creates whatever we want using force
fields and projectors and holograms and stuff. I don't know how
it works but I know it's really cool to see. One minute, the ROOM
is empty. The next, there is a kid standing there and he or she
is the exact replica of some kid in the real world. Hell, I've
been told that, for all intended purposes, the two are THE SAME!

And that's when we sex them up. Well, ok, not right then. The
twenty-five of us (we've got some technical title but everybody
just calls us "the wankers") enter the ROOM first and unload our
gear and stuff. Then our twenty-five holographic guests appear
(we always call the kids "guests"). Then we sex them - mindful of
the fact that we need to force a minimum of five orgasms from
them that day (most of us hit five orgasms by the end of the
first hour). Then, we can either continue to play with that guest
until we grow bored or flip a little switch that gives us a brand
new kid. Once the day is over (we get an hour lunch, I should
mention), the program running the guests de-materializes whoever
is in front of us at that point (for some of the guys, it's the
same kid they started the morning with. For others, it's the
eighth or ninth one they've seen that day) while transferring all
the data their brains have created back into the computer.

Why do we need to force them to at least five orgasms? I have no
idea. Ask management.

I joke. I joke. Actually, to be honest, I really have no idea why
we collect this orgasm data. I've asked my coworkers and no one
knows. One of the great mysteries, I guess. And one of the
reasons I'm sick of it. No sense of accomplishment, you know?

The ROOM? Well the setup is about what you'd expect. The room is
a pretty good size and there are twenty-five workstations. Each
station contains a special chair that looks like what you'd sit
in for a gynecological examination. You know, angled back with
holsters for the feet and legs that leave the pelvis wide open
and exposed? The chairs are actually well designed. Versatile,
they can raise and lower and adjust a guest into just about any
position I want. Each station also contains a box full of tools
(dildo's and vibrators and lots of other things) and there is an
assortment of odds and ends in some of the drawers. Every one of
the stations has a TV so you can watch the news or a football
game or whatever.  Oh, that is one of the perks, I guess. We can
watch TV so long as it doesn't interfere with our work!

Because the computer system regulates their artificial brain
waives and body structure, we also get a lot of control over the
guests themselves. On my control panel, for instance, I can wipe
the kids memory so that each orgasm feels like the first one of
the day. Most of us do this after every climax because its fun
watching a cute kid "discover" orgasm for the first time five or
six times in a row. Another useful control is the ability to
re-materialize the kid's body structure so that all their parts
go back to being pre-sexed. Some of us do this more than others.
So, for example, say an ass has become kind of loose from a great
deal of fingering? Some of the guys will punch the button and
that asshole will become virgin-tight once again. Some (myself
included), though, will let it get stretchy enough for us to
insert big sex toys (and our cocks several times a day). This
leads to some fun scenarios, like when the pre-teen girls sloppy
cunt is being plowed by a huge dildo and she can't figure out how
she got so loose because she's a virgin (hint hint: I've been
loosening you up, sweetheart, for like two hours already). Or,
when the teenage boy has watched himself cum five times in the
last twenty minutes but cant figure out how he's shooting a full
load each time. Yeah, good times. Good times. And, of course,
when we get bored with the kid in front of us, we hit the button
and a new one takes their place!

What's that? Oh no, we group them by category. See, Mondays are
always pubescent girls. She may be ten or she may be fifteen but
if she's got her period, she's a Monday kind of gal. Tuesdays are
pubescent boys. Same sort of deal. Shooting sperm? Welcome to
Tuesday. Wednesday is the day we get all the girls who haven't
had their period. Thursday is all the boys who shoot blanks.
Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays are days off.

Oh, I didn't mention I only work four days a week? Must have
slipped my mind.

Once in a while, we have the odd duck. A boy of fifteen whose
little willy is the same size as the eight year old a table over.
Or a girl of seven with boobs like watermelons and plenty of
grass on the field. But, for the most part, you get girls of ten
to sixteen on Monday and girls of six to eleven on Wednesday.
Generally, you get boys of twelve to sixteen on Tuesdays and boys
of six to twelve on Thursdays. Pretty routine, really.

OUCH! Why'd you slap me?? Huh? Yeah yeah yeah, I know. It sounds
like a great job. But I'm telling you, it gets to you. It does.

Well...

Ok! Don't hit me again! Let me tell you about last week and
you'll understand why I'm tired of the job, ok?

See, I woke up Monday morning with this terrible hangover because
I'd been out the night before with some people. And when I say a
hangover, I mean a
hangmotherfuckingkillmenowheadsplittingvomitinducingneverdrinking
againover, you know? I was dragging bad. Real bad.

And the worst part is that it's Monday. Look, there's nothing
wrong with girls. In fact, several of the guys I work with look
forward to Mondays most of all. They talk about "ripe snatch" and
shit like that. Ok, fine. They love teen-girl pussy. It's just,
I'm not so into girls. Oh, I do what I got to do on Mondays,
don't get me wrong. And I kinda enjoy the younger girls on
Wednesday. It's just... Well, Monday is my least favorite of the
days.

So there I am, at my workstation at exactly 8am when the ROOM
gives us the first batch. And what do I get? A fatty. I don't
know what it is with people these days but we need to stop
feeding these kids so much. I get more fatties that I know what
to do with.

Her file said she was fourteen and from Mexico City. I didn't
really care. With my head pounding, I wanted to get this over
with. Her legs, which were spread pretty wide, gave me ample room
to work and, as I was definitely not in the mood to listen to the
girls that day jabber on about "Where am I?" and "Who are you?"
and all that shit, I already had the girl on mute.

Oh, yeah, we can do that. Turn off their ability to speak by
shutting down that part of the brain. Makes shit much better when
you just need some quiet time. Unfortunately, most of the guys
like to talk to their guests and the room quickly fills with
noise. I put in earplugs. Fuck my co-workers.

Juanita, the girl, was your typical Mexican teen. Good sized
breasts. Long dark hair. A snatch covered in thick coarse pubic
hair. Overall, not a bad looker. Just kinda fat. I grabbed a
small anal dildo, which was about the size of my pinky finger, as
well as a large round vibrator and dipped them both into my lube
bucket. Pressing the dildo at her tight brown shitter and
nestling the vibrator right against her slightly open pussy, I
turned both on at the same time.

She jumped, of coarse. They always jump. I wasn't sure if she'd
had any sort of sex but really I didn't care to investigate.
Instead, I slid the dildo about three inches up her ass and let
the vibrator sink right up against her clit. She, of course,
redoubled her struggles. Did I mention that? The guests always
struggle. No appreciation that I'm about to get them off a bunch
of time. No respect. Sigh...

I zoned out for a while and it wasn't until my hands were
suddenly covered in fuck juice that I even realized the girl had
cum. There she was, wailing silently and trembling through what I
guess could probably be her first orgasm while a torrent of hot
snatch juice sprayed my hands. I sighed. Glancing up, my computer
monitor told me that was her first climax of the day.

All of a sudden, even with my earplugs in, I hear this loud "BOOM
GOES THE DYNAMIGHT!" from my left. I rolled my eyes. Larry loves,
I repeat loves, to fuck. And the idiot always says the same thing
when he manages to get all four and a half inches of his cock
into his guest. Boom. Goes. The. Dynamite. I mean, how cliché is
that shit? I'd guess that Larry fucks each one of his guests and
Larry likes lots of guests so I figure I have to hear him say
that seven, maybe eight times a day. He's such a fucking tool.

Luckily for me, I had kept the dildo and the vibrator in place
and Juanita, sensitive as she was, had a second climax right as
the first was finishing. Grateful for small miracles, I kept
teasing the little Hispanic slut for most of the morning.

Just before lunch, my computer registered Juanita had achieved
twelve climaxes. Though I was still hung over, I thought it was
time for me to have a bit of fun. Putting my tools away, I pulled
out my favorite tool. My cock. All six inches of it. Glancing at
Juanita, I actually had to laugh for a second. The little whore
was a sweaty hot mess and her snatch was absolutely soaked. But
her eyes! They were focused on my hard cock like it was a
butchers knife and she was a sacrificial cow. Shit!

Ok, so she didn't want to get fucked. To. Fucking. Bad. I was
going to fuck her.

Wait! Don't hit me again. Listen, I'm not that bad of a guy.
Sure, I get guests off all the time who don't want me to or who
don't understand what's going on. That's one thing. But if I'm
going to fuck a guest, I feel like it's a little too close to
"rape" if I do it when they're unwilling. The Company obviously
thought so as well so, again, I hit a small switch on the control
panel.

Juanita's face suddenly scrunched up in confusion and, as I
watched, the girl's look of terror began to change. Her eyes went
large. Her face became flushed. Her tongue slid out of her open
mouth and she began to pant. Lust bloomed in the girl. Within a
few seconds, she was flying-high uber-horny and, as her eyes
settled on my cock, she began to whine in Spanish. Of course, I
couldn't hear her (she was still on mute) and I don't speak
Spanish. But I've been in this situation many many times and I
know she was saying some variant of "Oh. Please fuck me. Please.
I need it so bad" yadda yadda yadda.

Lining myself up, I slowly began to sink my fuckstick up her
(admittedly) hot cunt as she squirmed and tried to impale herself
on my member. Thanks to my earlier work, her pussy was nice and
loose and my cock slid easily to the hilt. In fact, I didn't even
meet any resistance! I guess the question of whether she was a
virgin or not was solved, huh? Using my hands, I grabbed her nice
tits and began to pinch her nipples lightly, giving her a bit of
a thrill and giving my hands something to do.

I pounded her for a good ten minutes and was about to shoot my
load when her pussy began to spasm and contract. My computer
indicated she was cumming again. Good girl! Feeling the
contractions on my cock and watching her face scrunch up in
orgasmic joy sent me over the edge, of course, and I began to
pump my morning jizz deep into her well-fucked womb. I leaned
forward, my head wresting on the girls shoulder as I came. It was
nice, especially since I wasn't feeling so well.

Then the bitch bit my forehead.

Luckily, she didn't have a very good angle and I was able to pull
back away from her (and out of her) while she began to scream
(silently) at me. Fuck her, right? I mean, I'd just gotten her
off again and she's mad at me? This is the shit I'm talking
about. Had to put a Band-Aid on too. Dennis, one of my coworkers,
teased me about it afterword.

I went to the local chicken joint for lunch. It was good, but the
corn-on-the-cob was cold.
That afternoon, I had three separate girls. Used my hands to get
off two of them and the vibrator for the third. All in all, a
standard day.

I had paperwork to do first thing Tuesday morning. An incident
report from the day before. I fucking hate reports. That got me
into a bad mood.

My bad mood continued throughout the morning. Four boys. Two
sixteen-year-olds. Two fifteen-year-olds. None of them were
particularly "attractive" and puberty seemed a distant memory for
all four. I like boys, don't get me wrong, but these four were
about as much "boy" as I am. But, I did my duty and jerked each
of them off to the required five orgasms. Used the computer to
wipe their memory and to re-initialize their bodies after each
one, though, so as not to have to deal with long refractory
periods.

Fucking Larry was loud that morning - fucking a couple different
teenage boys with his stupid-ass boom goes the dynamite crap. The
boys wailed and cried, of course, as teenage boys hate getting
fucked. But whatever. If Larry doesn't want to flip the switch to
make them like it, who am I to judge?

Wait. Fuck that. Larry's a prick.

Lunch was Thai. Enough said.

I got a huge treat early that afternoon, though. There, in front
of me, was this gorgeous thirteen-year-old Swedish boy. Long
blond hair. Clear blue eyes. A smattering of freckles. A cute
little cock - maybe four inches when hard (I was proven right a
short time later) A bombshell, no doubt.

I took the kid off mute, of course, and asked him if he spoke
English. In the cutest little accent ever, he said something like
"Ja, I speak English. Ver am I? Who er you?"

Perfect. I didn't bother to answer him, of course, as I rarely
do. But I did decide I deserved a treat. Pulling my chair up
close, I sat down and pushed my face right up to his balls. They
were hairless, I found out, though the boy was clearly into
puberty. He had that earthy boy smell I like and, happily, I
began to suckle and lick his balls.

He jumped, of course. Didn't I mention they always jump? He kept
asking question. Told me to stop several time. Pleaded that he
wasn't "a gay." I kept on licking his balls, happy as a clam.

Every boy gets hard when his balls are licked. Gay. Straight.
Doesn't matter. Eventually, the boy's little cock was standing up
proudly and I slid a special vibrator over the hard member. It's
a nice little vibrator; a sleeve like contraption whose vibrating
tip sits snuggly against a boys cockhead. When I slipped it on
him, boy actually moaned. He moaned even louder when I turned it
on.

Then I sat back, ready for another bit of fun.

Shifting his legs so his feet were right next to my face, I
scanned down his body. His eyes were locked onto mine and I could
tell he was confused. I smiled and gently licked his right foot
from heel to toe; my tongue sliding lazily across the arch of his
perfect foot. He shuddered. I shuddered. Nothing quite like boy
feet!

After licking the arches for a few minutes and listening to his
breathing get louder and louder, I began to suck his toes.
Swirling my tongue around the digits eagerly, I shoved my tongue
in and out of every available crevice and savored the unique
boyflesh. It was a lot of fun, no doubt. Eventually, with my
mouth eagerly suckling one of the big toes, the boy grunted and
came. Blast after blast of teenboy cum shot out of his throbbing
vibrator-encased cock and landed on his taut tummy as the boy
groaned unabashedly.

Wonderful!

I spent most of the rest of the afternoon with the boy. I spread
his legs and ate his little shitter until he came again. I
suckled his nipples while I jerked him off to another cum. I
reset him (after three, it would start to take longer to get him
off) and sucked his cock to two rapid explosions. I'll tell you,
he was a real treat.

Just before I was about to fuck him, though, I got called into
the office to deal with another issue. Payroll was having a
problem. I fucking hate payroll. Yeah, I make one hundred and
twenty thousand dollars a year but sometimes I'd give it all up
for payroll to just get off my ass.

Then, just as I'm walking back into the ROOM, I hear BOOM GOES
THE DYNAMITE and see mother-fucking Larry shoving his prick in
and out of my boy. MY BOY! Fucking Larry, the jackass that he is,
decided that since I was away, he could get a piece of the nice
boy-ass I was about to plunder.

I was so pissed. I sucked the kid off while Larry fucked him
(after, of course, flipping the switch to make his uncomfortable
first fuck into a much more pleasurable one) but I stared daggers
at Larry the whole time. Even the kids cries of "Fuck me! Fuck me
please. My az. Stick it in my az!" didn't get me like it normally
would.

I was pissed all night.

It was Mustafa's birthday on Wednesday and there was a giant
birthday cake for him when we arrived that morning. Now, don't
get me wrong, I like cake. Sure, it was a chocolate cake and
chocolate doesn't appeal to me as much but I still was happy to
indulge my sweet tooth. So, for the first bit of work, all of us
stood around eating the cake and generally shooting the shit. And
cake for breakfast? Great.

And that's when a few of us had a brilliant idea. Icing is great,
right? For the most part, so is pre-pubescent pussy. What if we
combined the two???

We work really close to a grocery story so Sammy went and picked
up a few of those pre-packaged icing tubs. Made it back fast, and
passed the things out. I, of course, got a buttercream (my
favorite) and went to my terminal.

There, ready to go with her legs spread wide open, was this cute
little seven-year-old Russian. She started to jabber at me but I
quickly muted her and set up my station. Soon, I was ready to go.

Dipping my finger in the frosting, I brought it up to her lips
and slid my finger into her mouth, giving the sweet girl a sweet
treat. She wasn't pleased, though, and bit me. Ungrateful, but
what can you do? I was in a good mood so it didn't really bother
me, though I would have preferred a vanilla cake earlier.

Her little cunt was totally bald and the vaginal lips were parted
ever so slightly, revealing the pink interior. Nice. Though I'm
not so much into girls, I could definitely see the appeal. Taking
a scoop of icing, I gently spread it all around her pussy and
slowly worked a little bit inside. The girl jumped at the contact
but... Oh, I'd already said they all jump? Well, they do!

Then I dove in and began to go to town on her icing covered
cunny. I licked the outer ridges. I slurped the interior. I
tongued her tiny clit. It tasted wonderful! My mouth was full of
sugar and sweetness. I was in heaven!

I swished the sweetness in my mouth and dribbled it back over her
sex, letting the gooey mixture slide down toward her asshole
before swooping it in and lapping at her little icing-covered
shitter. Over and over I did this, adding icing directly onto her
cunt or asshole so that the sweet sugar rush never ended.

I could feel the girl vibrating but I didn't pay her much
attention. Eventually, though, I needed a short break so I sat up
and cracked my back, taking a drink of water as I surveyed the
little girl. She was a mess! Her hair was frizzy and her cheeks
were flushed and her tongue was hanging out of her mouth. "Odd,"
I thought to myself, checking the computer.

Seven orgasms! The little slut had gone through seven distinct
orgasms! I'd been eating her out vigorously for nearly an hour
and hadn't even noticed her cumming! Wow!

I traded the little minx out for another girl shortly after that.
The new girl was a beautiful black ten-year-old from the Sudan
and I ate her ass and cunt just as vigorously as I had the first
girl, soaking her pelvis in yummy icing of course. This time,
though, I paid more attention to her reactions as I jackhammered
my tongue against her sensitive clit and it became obvious to me
every time I drove her into a climax. This girl, much to my
delight, had plenty of pussy juice flowing freely from her sex so
the salty earthy taste of her juices mixed wonderfully with the
sweet sugar rush I was indulging in.

Two more girls got their icing-covered pussies eaten that day and
I had a grand old time.

Puked my guts up around 8pm that evening. Shouldn't have eaten a
whole carton of icing. Felt miserable all night. Puked again
around 3am.

I missed the first half of Thursday because I was still a little
sick from the previous night. But I love Thursdays so I ended up
getting to the ROOM around 1pm. My bosses don't care if you come
in really late (or leave really early). They're pretty chill like
that - so long as you give them a decent excuse.

Of course, I enter only to hear Larry yell "BOOM GOES THE
DYNOMITE" as he slides his prick into some squirming
eleven-year-old. He's such an ass. Walking over to my station,
I'm pleased to discover a cute nine-year-old boy from Argentina
is ready for me, his arms above his head and his legs spread wide
open. Wow! I got to tell you, his pits were absolutely beautiful!
The boy had a golden tan all over his body and his skin was
totally flawless. I went to town.


For a short while, all I did was lick the kid all over. His
armpits, his neck, his chest, nipples, thighs, feet, hands, cock,
and asshole. He tasted like cinnamon and wiggled the whole time,
laughing because I think my tongue was too ticklish. I like it
when they're ticklish. Taking out a long feather, I sat back and
proceeded to tease the boy's sensitive flesh while he squirmed
and laughed hysterically. Meanwhile, his little boner had become
totally hard and, with my right hand using the feather, my left
hand grasped the little tool and began to stroke it up and down.

I could tell the kid had no experience with sex because his
reaction kept flickering between the tickling of the feather and
the sex feelings in his cocklett. He'd be laughing hard, then
moaning, then laughing again. Eventually, though, his eyes shot
open and he looked at me hard, his pleading face taunt with new
feelings. A groan began to roar in his throat. I knew, at that
point, he was about to cum and redoubled my efforts.

He shook. He went taunt. His eyes glazed over. He began to shake.
He came. Hard. His little boyhood pulsed vigorously in my hand.
It was wonderful.

I liked the tickle game and that became my theme for the rest of
the day. My last boy was a small English six year old who
squealed and squealed as I used my hands to tickle his exposed
boypits. With a child-sized dildo vibrating aggressively in his
little asshole and my mouth busily bobbing up and down on his
tiny boyhood, he filled the room with the most amazing cry when
his first ever kiddie-cum rushed through him. Half laughing
squeal, half moaning groan. Several people, Larry included,
actually came over and told me that the boys first cum sounded
incredibly hot and asked me how I managed it. I'm a rockstar.
What can I say?

Now, at this point, the day's almost over. In fact, several of my
co-workers had actually begun packing up their stuff. The problem
is that I haven't actually gotten off yet. Oh, there were a
couple of times I was close and a few of the boys tempted me. But
now, with this cute little English boy having just cum for the
sixth time in the last hour and a half, I myself need to get off.
Now, it's about me.

Luckily, for the last half an hour, I'd been using a six-inch
dildo to slowly fuck the kid while my tongue played with his
sensitive little cock-head. That, coupled with the fifteen
minutes I'd spent rimming the kid enthusiastically prior to the
insertion of the dildo meant that his asshole was prepped and
ready to receive my own six-inches. I dropped my pants, lubed my
cock, and flipped the switch to make the kid totally horny.

"Listen, kiddo" I said as I slowly stroked myself. "If I shove
this is your bottom, you'll get good feelings. Do you want good
feelings?"

The boy shook his head up and down like a maniac, his eyes glued
to my member and his body twitching in anticipation.

"Oh! Oh mister! I need it in my bottom! I need it! Please! OHH!
OHH! PLLLEEAAASSEEE!" he wined, unable to understand the feelings
coursing through him but knowing that relief was only one thrust
away. I flipped the mute button and thrust forward, shoving all
six inches deep into his pert bottom.

In. Out. In. Out. I fucked the kid in long luxurious strokes,
enjoying the tight heat surrounding my cock and the velvety
goodness of his tight anal cavity. They boy was wailing silently
in delight as my hands began to dance all over his body. I almost
grabbed his erect little boyhood but decided to leave it be. Let
the kid get off on me teasing his nipples and my cock pounding
his prostate. He'll love it.

Harder and faster I began to thrust, using my hips to put power
behind my fucking. My fingers stroked his nipples and I dove in
for a moment and shoved my tongue into his mouth, licking all
around before pulling out and increasing my speed. I could tell
from the way the boy thrashed that he was about to cum again. I
flipped the mute off.

"Those good feelings! You about to get them?" I grunted as my
cock flew in and out of his shitter.

"OHH! OHH! ITS HAPPENING! UGGH! UUGGHHH!!!" he screamed, his body
tensing in pre-climax.

"Cum for me kiddo! Cum for me!!!" I yelled, my own balls boiling
in near orgasm as I jackhammered the kid with all my strength.

The kid came, his body suddenly seizing as he wailed
"AYYEEEEEYEEEEEE!!!!"

His hot asshole tightened and I knew, from long experience, that
I was ten thrusts from cumming.

My head flew back.

Eight thrusts.

I let out a moan.

Six thrusts.

I drew in a big breath to roar in climax. Hell, I was even
thinking about yelling "boom goes the dynamite."

Four thrusts.

The boys body and the chair and all solid matter in front of me
blinked out of existence as my third thrust drove forward and met
no resistance. I tumbled onward, my momentum unchecked as I
landed ungracefully on the floor of the now totally empty ROOM.

"What the FUCK?" I screamed, before noticing that the clock on
the wall read 5:30pm...

What? Why is 5:30pm important? Well, as you might have guessed,
the ROOM shuts down at 5:30pm. So, there I was, in an empty ROOM,
with a hard cock about to explode and no one to fuck...

Yeah. Yeah. I didn't get off right then. In defeat, I pulled my
pants back on and had to finish with my hand twenty minutes later
when I got back to my apartment.

Yeah, I felt kinda stupid. Fuck them though; they should leave
the room running past 5:30pm, right? I mean, come on!

So there you have it. That was my week last week. Can you now
understand why I'm sick of my work?

You can't? Why not? Didn't it sound awful?

Ouch! Hey! Why did you slap me?