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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
PARTY PUSSIES
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Chapter One
I was young and I felt restless. I liked wearing black pullover sweaters that hugged my newly grown breasts. With my sweater on, IÕd put a medallion around my neck. It said ÒBlack SabbathÓ on it and it hung from a long chain down between my bosoms. The weight of the chainÕs links cutting between my tits made my breasts stand out even more. The medallion wasnÕt as shiny as I would have liked (it was old) but it was heavy and it kept the chain tight between my tits so that they were perfectly delineated as twin mounds of flesh under my sweater.
One night I was fooling around at the grocery with my friend Beth Ann. Everyone calls her ÒBethany.Ó She has nice breasts but sheÕs only 12 and IÕm 13 and a half so I like teasing her about how my boobs are bigger than hers.
ÒLook, Bethany!Ó I said with a half-suppressed giggle. I jumped from one black-tiled square to the next across the grocery store floor, like we used to do as little girls. Of course I wasnÕt wearing any bra, just my black pullover with my medallion. As I jumped from square to square my bosoms juddered under my blouse like large mounds of jello.
Bethany laughed and tried it herself. SheÕd quit wearing bras too and her bosoms bobbed like perfectly formed spheres under her blouse. A balding man, walking by with his cart, saw us. Unfortunately for him he didnÕt look where he was going anymore, once he saw us. He rammed his cart into a display of bottles of vinegar and they all tumbled down and went smashing across the floor.
ÒHarold! What in GodÕs name -- canÕt you even drive a grocery cart properly?Ó I heard his wife say to him.
ÒIÕm sorry Maude I--Ó the man began, and then his wife spied Bethany and me jumping from square to square, seeing how much we could make our tits bounce.
ÒThatÕs the last time we have the Girl Scouts meeting at our house, Harold!Ó his wife said to him.
As Bethany and I were tootling around the store, looking for other things we could do, we met a guy. He looked about 16. Later I found out he was 16, which shows how good I am at evaluating guys and their ages and stuff. He was tall and he obviously worked out, although he looked a little bedraggled and I got the feeling that maybe he hadnÕt been home for awhile.
I felt bold. I knew I looked good in my black sweater and IÕm a blonde. I could feel my blonde mane hanging down past both sides of my face and overlapping my shoulders. I have a small frame, shoulders so narrow youÕd think you could snap me in two just by picking me up. ThatÕs why I was glad when my breasts grew. TheyÕre big and full and round. Rising like cantaloupes off my chest, they give me a nice healthy look. Before they popped out I was so slim-looking, like a matchstick girl, but with them I look okay. Fortunately as my breasts grew my hips and bottom started swelling and filling out too, though my waist remained wasp-thin, with that ÔdonÕt touch me IÕll breakÕ thinness to it that had plagued me in childhood. So I felt a little ambivalent as I approached the cool, 16-year-old dude with the messy, slightly greasy hair and the bulging biceps. But I felt bold too, because I knew heÕd like my breasts and I had my medallion between them to show them off to best advantage.
ÒHi,Ó I said. As he lifted his eyes I stuck out my chest at him. ÒWatchÕa reading?Ó He looked at my tits and then, lifting his eyes, at my face. Bethany crept up behind me, as impressed, I think, as I was by this guy, but she was only 12 and her breasts werenÕt as big as mine so she felt a little shy.
The guy looked at me with a knotting of his eyebrows. They were kind of heavy across his eyes, matching perfectly his face, which was starting to grow a beard and needed (I thought) a shave.
ÒWhat makes you think IÕm reading?Ó he asked me indignantly.
ÒYouÕre holding a magazine, stupid,Ó I answered. If IÕd been younger I would have yanked it out of his hands and run away, but I knew IÕd look foolish doing that with my big breasts bouncing on my chest, running through the grocery and probably out past the lanes of checkers. So I stood my ground. But I was feeling kind of awkward now, like a show-off maybe, though deep down I wanted to show off to someone, and be admired by him. I didnÕt just want to jump between squares in the groceryÕs empty food aisles anymore. I wanted someone more than Bethany to admire my boobs. (But not a bunch of sour old clerks at the front of the grocery!)
ÒIÕm not reading,Ó the guy answered. ÒIÕm thinking. Do you want to know what IÕm thinking about?Ó
ÒYes, I guess....Ó I said. By now he was gazing at me with a little more interest, though I still got the feeling that his thoughts were deep within him, or far away, not really concentrating on me but willing, for the sake of my boobs, to give me a pennyÕs worth of his thoughts.
He looked at me and and then glanced at Bethany. She was only 12 and she looked at him with big, moony eyes, like twin saucers. ÒIs she with you?Ó the guy asked me. He indicated her with a nod of his head, in her direction.
ÒYes, thatÕs Bethany,Ó I answered. I looked at my feet (or tried to, my bosoms in the way) and said, Òand IÕm Lisa.Ó
ÒWell, Lisa,Ó the guy said. ÒIÕm Steve.Ó He cocked his eyebrow and seemed suddenly to relish the thought of telling me something he knew would scare me, like boys did right before they showed me toads or roaches when I was little, holding their hands up quite politely and then suddenly opening them and letting out their dirty little secret. ÔEeek!Õ IÕd scream and run away, as a croaking frog or a flitting cockroach came flying after me.
ÒIÕm thinking, Lisa,Ó Steve said gravely to me, lowering his voice but keeping it loud enough so he could scare Bethany too with his revelation, ÒIÕm thinking of becoming a sex slave.Ó
ÒWhat?Ó I think Bethany yelled it first but my voice was right behind hers. Hers was higher-pitched, though, and I think people throughout the store heard it, a big, loud, shrieky ÒWAAAHT?!Ó blurted in a little-girlÕs frightened, revolted voice across the aisles.
Steve grinned to himself and returned to reading his magazine. Normally I would have dashed away from him then, but like I said, I was feeling restless and I was bored too. So I stood my ground. I kept my eyes trained on him until, much to my satisfaction, he was forced to lift his head and acknowledge the fact that I was still standing there. Bethany, meanwhile, had retreated up the aisle, yet I saw that she was staring up at some coin-shaped condom packets hanging off the highest shelf in the aisle. I think she was trying to look innocuous but I laughed a little, for anybody could see she was pretending not to be up to anything in particular while all the while her eyes were staring, quite mesmerized, at these cool gold-shaped condoms that looked like golden coins from some PirateÕs treasure chest.
Steve thought I was laughing at him.
ÒI am thinking of being a sex slave,Ó he told me. ÒIn Mexico. I got an offer today, hitchhiking along the road. The womanÕs waiting outside in her car for me. I told her I had to think it over, you know? She was polite enough to let me. So thatÕs why IÕm standing here, pretending to read this magazine. But IÕm not really reading it, IÕm thinking instead about having sex in Mexico.Ó
That made me shiver. I wondered if Bethany had heard him. I think she had, for her eyes darted down from the condoms and looked quite alarmingly at him.
ÒYouÕre kidding me,Ó I said to Steve.
He looked at me with a surly gaze. But a little respectfully too, I think, because I was still standing there, while most girls, I think, would have long since dashed away.
ÒIÕm not kidding you,Ó he said. ÒIÕll take you outside and show you the woman if you like. IÕll even introduce you to her. She asked me if I knew any girls.Ó
I gritted my teeth. I was beginning to sense an opportunity to get revenge on my parents, and my old boyfriend too. IÕd had a fight with him this afternoon. HeÕd told me he liked another girl better. One that didnÕt look (in my opinion) nearly as good as me. But he said she would ÔserviceÕ him, whereas I wouldnÕt. And then IÕd fought with my parents, because in fighting with my boyfriend IÕd been late for dinner. TheyÕd found us necking the day before and now they were on ÔRed Alert,Õ thinking me and him were having sex every afternoon at his house while they were out working at their jobs.
ÒYouÕre late!Ó my parents had howled at me when I walked in for dinner this evening. Of course my hair was mussed from having a big argument with my boyfriend, and heÕd pulled on my blouse that IÕd worn to school and one of the buttons had popped off. Seeing me that way, my dad and mom instantly blamed me for having sex with him in the afternoon (although they werenÕt exactly totally direct in how they phrased it, but it was obvious what they were thinking). My mom called me a ÔstrumpetÕ and my dad called the boyÕs dad, telling him over the phone that he should mind his son better. After dinner my little sister went out to play and told all her friends that I was a ÔtrumpetÕ now, and boys could blow on me if they wished.
So after dinner, after taking a long hot bath and feeling quite misunderstood by everybody (which I was), I put on my favorite clothes and my old ÒBlack SabbathÓ medallion that IÕd bought at a rummage sale from a hippie. And I went to the grocery with my best friend Bethany, who was having problems with her parents too, because she liked copying me in not wearing a bra. (Of course that was a whole additional argument with my parents. But IÕd found a picture in a photo album of my mom publicly burning her bra out on the street in the 60Õs. So they were forced to let me not wear a bra if I wanted to, though I still had to wear a bra every day to school.)
Anyway, not wearing our bras, me and Bethany (whoÕs mom never burned her bra in the 1960Õs, apparently) went to the grocery after dinner. She was pissed at her parents and I was pissed at my parents and my boyfriend too, and now, with Steve, I suddenly saw an opportunity to put a great deal of the Fear of God into my parents.
ÒOkay,Ó I said to Steve. I edged closer to him and let my bosoms bob closer to his face. ÒShow me this lady. SheÕs probably your mommie.Ó
To my surprise, Steve reached out and took my hand. He didnÕt ask, he just took it. He pulled me quite abruptly toward him and then turned and walked up the aisle. As we passed Bethany, I grabbed out and took her hand so IÕd have her with me for protection. She gave a look at me and then a last look at the gold Pirate condoms and then we were out of the aisle and walking past the clerks and out the front of the store. The manager eyed us, thinking perhaps we were stealing something, since weÕd bypassed the clerks.
Out in the parking lot there was a stiff breeze. It blew back my blonde hair and it caught SteveÕs too, for he had long hair, like Kurt Russell. Bethany trailed behind me, looking slightly lost, for IÕd not asked her if she wanted to come along, simply grabbed her. She trailed behind my hand and almost had to run to keep up, for Steve was walking quite rapidly. Perhaps he was afraid that the manager would come after us and try to detain us and make us empty our pockets. Or maybe heÕd simply made a decision and, having made it, wanted to go through with it before he changed his mind. My bosoms bounced with quiet abandon on my chest as Steve pulled me across the parking lot. Little BethanyÕs tits wobbled beneath her blouse.
I saw a black limosine. It was parked as discreetly as one can park a limo, taking up two parking stalls. It was black and I felt a sudden urge to ride in it, for IÕd never ridden in a limo before. Then I realized Steve was drawing me straight towards it.
A driver opened the door of the limo and stepped out. He was dressed in a starched uniform and looked rather nerdy, I thought, in his neat uniform. Hardly anyone to be afraid of. Then he opened the back door of the limo. Steve brought me straight up to the open door.
ÒGet in, IÕll introduce you,Ó Steve said to me. I wouldnÕt have let him put me in the limo but he was a weightlifter and he handled my body quite expertly, turning me and then easing me into the limo. Before I could even think about what was happening I was already inside it. Little Bethany, with a slight squeal, was popped in right behind me. Then Steve himself got in.
Inside the limo was quite luxurious. I found myself seated next to a dark-haired woman in a slinky black evening gown. She was thin and had just the lightest of suntans, as if she were perhaps a little afraid of the sun, like it might give her cancer or something. Yet her skin was perfect, and she had twin dark eyes like pools you come upon in the dark, where mosquitoes live and breed, out in the woods. Her black evening gown circled her neck like a collar but was obviously without a back to it, not crossing behind her until it had to in order to put something behind her bottom. Then, just as it surrounded her completely, where her hips were, to cover her front and in back too, it was sliced up each side with long slits that almost defeated the gownÕs ability to hide her figure, for the slits ran from her ankles all the way up to her hips. She obviously wore no bra, because her gown was so narrow in front, crossing down over her chest, that it left the sides of her breasts almost completely exposed.
I think I liked that about her. She was without a bra, just like me. Just like Bethany, in fact, who leaned foward as we sat on a leather bench-type seat in the limo and looked with wide eyes at the woman. She smiled, the dark-haired woman, at myself and Bethany, then at Steve, whoÕd brought us. Her bosoms, large and looking quite vulnerable with her gown barely able to cover them, jiggled as she moved. I felt a tender feeling toward her, looking so sweetly accessible in her gown, which some wicked man had obviously chosen for her, or sheÕd felt the need to wear to impress him, because she loved him so much. And I felt too a wish to be classy and elegant like her, and to be admired in a gown like she wore.
ÒSteve,Ó the woman said, leaning forward, her breasts moving under her rustling gown, hanging quite freely, like twin gourds of fruit being offered at a feast. ÒI see youÕve made up your mind.Ó
ÒYes,Ó Steve answered. ÒBut drive fast, before I change it.Ó
ÒAnd the girls?Ó the woman asked. She gazed with light, carefree eyes at myself and Bethany.
ÒI-- I donÕt know...Ó I answered. I let my voice trail off. Bethany found my hand and squeezed it tight. Was she hoping IÕd rescue her, pull her from the limo before we were swept away? Or was she hoping IÕd say ÔyesÕ for the both of us, because she was too shy to say it for herself?
ÒHave you ever been to Mexico?Ó the woman with the dark hair asked me with the same light, playful look in her eyes.
ÒNo...Ó I answered. My eyes admired her dress as I spoke.
ÒThen letÕs be off,Ó she said. She reached out and pressed a small button. It lay in the panelled wood of a wet bar that stood in front of us. The button, I think, buzzed the driver up in the front part of the limo. She smiled at me again as the limo started up and rolled forward. ÒMy nameÕs Eveline,Ó she said in a small, delicate voice. Then, looking past me at Steve, she said, ÒSteve, dearest, would you serve the three of us drinks?Ó
That night I found myself in a dark, brooding mansion somewhere below the Mexican border. WeÕd driven all the way, it wasnÕt far. I lived in Corpus Christi. The drinks had helped with my ambivalence about the trip. I was feeling just a little dizzy now, as was Bethany. Steve, I think, was somewhere downstairs, being given a bath by one of the maids. She was big and fat and I donÕt think Steve much liked getting a bath, but by the time weÕd arrived at the mansion none of us were too disposed to resist anymore, giggling and laughing as the mansionÕs gates opened for us and the limo slipped us inside.
I got the feeling we handÕt been brought down to Mexico just to see the sights. When I told Bethany this, she told me she wouldnÕt mind seeing the sights, provided they were made to wear those gold-coin condoms sheÕd seen in the grocery. I laughed at that. WeÕd been given a bedroom to share and two middle-aged maids, big and round and motherly looking, entered our room.
ÒTake your clothes off, girls. You must be bathed,Ó the largest maid said to us. She did not ask, simply commanded.
ÒOhhh, I donÕt want a bath. I want to go to a party,Ó Bethany answered.
ÒUp, no time to argue. You must both have baths and then you may be invited to a little celebration,Ó the maid replied. And so, not wanting to undress, but having the maid approach me and take hold of my sweater and lift it up, me giggling, from drinking too much, I had my sweater pulled up over my head. My ÒBlack SabbathÓ medallion slipped through the neckhole of my sweater as it was lifted off and tumbled down past my face. It almost hit my nose. It landed with a loud slap against my belly. The maid looked at it. In the dark of the room I donÕt think sheÕd seen it as she went for my sweater. I stood topless before her, with my breasts white as snow upon my suntanned figure, and my ÒBlack SabbathÓ medallion hanging between my naked boobs. It felt cold against my tummy.
ÒOff with your jeans, too,Ó the maid said. She bent and undid my alligatorÕs belt that I liked so much. Then she popped the buttons on the front of my jeans and pulled them down. Beneath I wore white panties. She took those in her hands as she pushed down my jeans, cupping my hips in both her big, broad hands, and shoved the whole works down, my panties as well as my jeans. I wore slim boots on my legs and as she got my pants down she had to lift my feet, one by one, and draw off my boots. Then off came my pants, my fleecy bush feeling quite exposed with nothing covering it. I felt a little wet between my legs too, for it excited me to be naked in this big mansion, not knowing at all where I was, or in whose house IÕd been invited into.
Bethany shrieked as the other maid took hold of her and began to undress her. But it was just a single shriek, and then for some reason she quietened, and let the maid do her work. When we were both completely naked the bigger maid, the one whoÕd handled me, opened a door and brought us through a doorway into a bathroom. She lifted off my ÒBlack SabbathÓ medallion but then put round my neck, rather solicitously, a bar of soap suspended in necklace-form from a rope. The tub in the bathroom had already been filled and I realized now why, in the few moments I sat with Bethany in our darkened bedroom, wondering what to do, IÕd heard water running.
ÒOh, but I must pee!Ó Bethany declared, as the two of us were urged to step into the newly filled bathtub. She darted to the toilet. Blushing a little, for all of us were looking at her, she sat down nakedly on it and let out her water. I had to go too. I went after her, peeing as the bowl refilled from her flushing it. Then, when IÕd stood, and flushed away my pee, the bigger of the two maids placed a warm palm on my bare bottom, startling me, and guided me quite frankly back to the bathtub. This time she lifted my leg for me and actually forced me to step over the side of the tub into the water. I almost fell as she picked up my leg. I grabbed BethanyÕs shoulder for balance. Standing beside me, she was made by her own maid to lift her leg and get in the tub. When weÕd both entered the tub we looked at each other and then, not knowing what else to do, we both sat down.
ÒOoooh, this water is nice,Ó Bethany admitted. Still feeling a little woozy from drinking too much, it was nice to be able to settle into the warm tub water. I lay back in the tub and she found a rubber duck along the side of the tub and put it in the water to see it float.
The maids let us rest in the tub a moment. Then, offering us a scrub brush and sponge, they told us to bathe ourselves or they would do it for us. I still felt quite clean from my bath at home, but I accepted their scrub brush and got to work. I decided, though, soaping up the brush on the bar of soap hanging between my breasts, to have a little fun by scrubbing Bethany. When the brush was foaming with soap I told Bethany to stand up and show me her bottom. She did, feeling a little silly, I think, but liking the naughtiness of standing with her bottom in my face. I sat at her feet. I lifted the scrub brush and, sexily, I began to scrub her wobbly bottom cheeks.
Bethany shouted with delight. We were both a little drunk and it was fun to wash her bottom. She stuck it out at me and I slapped it. The twin, tightly-stretched mounds of cheeky flesh shuddered.
ÒOoohhh! DonÕt do that!Ó Bethany pouted. She clapped her hands over her small little 12-year-old ass to protect it. I reached up and pried at her fingers. She laughed. Suddenly her hands flew away and she stuck out her bottom again. ÒFart!Ó she announced, though nothing came out of her bottomhole.
ÒYouÕre a strumpet!Ó I told her, and I slapped her ass again, though not as hard as before, for I didnÕt want to hurt her.
The maids let us play. They did not seem too worried that we wouldnÕt get clean, though they did insist we wash our hair with shampoo before they let us out of the tub. Our hair was already clean, of course, but we scrubbed it anyway. I guessed they wanted our hair to be as glossy and lustrous as possible.
After our bath Bethany and I were seated by the two maids in front of a vanity mirror. We werenÕt used to wearing makeup but they insisted on applying some to both our faces. We were forced to sit in the nude, our bottoms warming on soft cushioned stools. My toes barely touched the floor. BethanyÕs legs were too short and she kicked her feet absently back and forth under her chair as the maids applied makeup to her face. When we stood up we looked very pleasantly mature, I thought, with our made up eyes and lipsticked lips and lightly-rouged cheeks.
ÒSit back down, I didnÕt tell you to rise,Ó the bigger maid said to us. I sat down again on my stool, wondering why all this was necessary. IÕd had a long day. WasnÕt I simply to be permitted to go to bed? I didnÕt need makeup for bed, did I?
The maid brought out a little kit. She set it on the vanity counter in front of me. She opened it. I saw gold rings inside, and a small needle, as if for piercing flesh. There was a brush within, quite small and delicate, and a jar of rouge. The maid opened the jar, dipped the brush into it, and then, lifting the brush, began applying rouge to one of my nipples.
I shouted. I wasnÕt expecting that! I heard Bethany give a shout beside me. But the maid gripped my breast, held it tight, almost painfully, and, extruding my nipple flesh between two of her fingers, she proceeded to paint my nipple with the rouge. I felt it stiffen, felt the nipple on my other breast harden too. Yet I felt awfully tender and vulnerable, for she might pinch my nipples off, if she wished, I thought, her fingers were so big and workmanlike. And what was that needle doing in the kit?
I didnÕt find out about the needle, but both my nipples were carefully outlined with applications of the brush dipped in rouge. When at last the process was done I felt my nipples were very hard, like twin thorns, for the tickling of the brush against them had excited them terribly. I looked over at Bethany and saw she was aroused just like I was. I could feel my spot buzzing down within the lips of my cunt. Bethany smiled guiltily at me and brushed her hands across her thighs. I knew she was feeling excited down within her snatch too.
We were permitted to stand. The maids turned us and made us bend forward and dusted both our bottoms with baby powder. Again I wondered, what for? The powder felt silky against my soft bottom but wasnÕt I just going to be given pajama pants and put to bed?
We were taken back out to our bedroom. It was well-lit now. Eveline had turned on the lamp. She was dressed in a similar gown as before, but it was red now, instead of black. Her hair, which sheÕd worn in the limo hanging free down her back, was now piled up elaborately atop her head.
ÒGirls, you both look so special,Ó Eveline smiled. Her eyes glowed at me, at Bethany. ÒI hate to hide such beauty but I have a few little things I want you both to put on,Ó she said. I looked at the bed. I saw a small bow tie for each of us, and a pair of shirt-cuffs, like Playboy bunnies wear, with gold cufflinks attached to them. I saw high heels for me and, strangely, rubber rain boots for (I guessed) Bethany. They were lined with felt, as if to protect her legs from being chafed by them. But that would only be necessary if she were to walk around in them without stockings, wasntÕ it? Also on the bed, I saw a small red firemanÕs hat and a squirtgun. But, significantly, I saw no panties, no bras, nothing to cover ourselves up with. This seemed odd to me, for I supposed we could sleep nude in our bed, but why would Bethany need to wear rainboots in bed? And I hated to see her armed with a squirtgun. She was still young enough to cause trouble with something like that. I could just see her trying to squrit me up the ass with it if we were both to sleep nude in our bed.
ÒAre the heels for me?Ó I asked hopefully. I didnÕt want to be consigned to sleeping in rain boots. They looked rather childish and silly. The floor of our bedroom was made of hard stone and felt cold under my feet. Rather than freeze my feet off, I stepped over to the warm throw rug by the side of our bed. I lifted a foot and dandled my toes over the heel strap on one of the pumps. I looked at Eveline. I knew Penthouse Pets were sometimes put to bed wearing heels and I thought, ÔOh well, IÕll wear them to bed if she wishes, with my makeup on and my painted tits and talcum-powdered bottom, just so I donÕt get consigned to those ridiculous rain boots.Õ I still had no idea why sheÕd want us sleeping in the bed all made up and special feeling, with heels on, but perhaps it would be fun.
Bethany saw the squirtgun and made a beeline for it. Fortunately, it proved to be empty. She liked the firehat and picked it up and plopped it on her head. She grinned at me. She fitted the chin strap of the firehat under her chin. I smiled at her, glad she liked the squirtgun and firehat, for I was sure the boots were meant to go with them. I sat down barebottomed on the coverlet of our bed and leaned foward. Reaching for the heels, I felt my breasts hanging beneath me, full and soft and round, with my nipples perky from being painted.
ÒOh, I donÕt have to fool with straps to put my shoes on,Ó Bethany told me happily, claiming the boots for herself. ÒI can just stick in my feet!Ó She stepped into the rainboots and I was glad, for it meant I could have the high heels. Carefully I bound them to my feet, working to get all the little buckles and straps closed correctly. Then I stood up. Bethany looked at me. ÒYouÕll probably fall over in those,Ó she said.
I walked across the floor of our bedroom. The heels were at least four inches in height and they made my bottom swing with an exaggerated movement behind me as I stepped along in them. Bethany was right. I tottered at first, Eveline reaching out to grab me so I wouldnÕt fall. But I soon got the hang of it and was walking quite proudly round our bedroom. My tits shook a little with each of my steps, my bare ass jiggled behind me. Bethany follwed me, pointing her squirtgun at my ass and, I knew, wishing she had something in it to shoot out at me. I could hear the slapping of her boots upon the stone floor.
ÒYou both look delicious,Ó Eveline said. She nodded to the maids. They fetched our shirt cuffs and bow ties off our bed. Bidding us to stand still, they carefully placed the cuffs round our wrists and tied the bow ties round our throats. ÒNow letÕs go downstairs and meet my husband,Ó Eveline told us, when the maids finished.
ÒWhat?Ó Bethany asked. Her eyes were big and round again, wide with surprise. She pointed her squirtgun at Eveline as if to defend herself from the woman.
ÒWhy, weÕre having a party,Ó Eveline said. ÒDonÕt worry, Steve will be there too. WeÕre all going to have some late night fun together. Do you like dancing?Ó
ÒYes,Ó Bethany admitted. ÒBut not without my panties on!Ó She looked quickly around the room, as did I. Our clothes were gone. But, perhaps in deference to a wish I might have, my ÒBlack SabbathÓ medallion lay upon the nightstand beside our bed.
I fetched my medallion and put it around my neck. I felt much comfort at itÕs weighty presence against my belly.
ÒDo you think youÕve been brought here to sleep?Ó Eveline asked Bethany. She rose up from a chair sheÕd been sitting in and went over to the girl and hugged her. Bethany looked rather like an unwilling rabbit being hugged by a child as Eveline embraced her. Her eyes stared at me and her childish cheeks were compressed slightly upon her face as Eveline pressed the girl to her bosom. Not wearing a bra, EvelineÕs breasts parted as the girlÕs head sank between them. It looked sexy, I had to admit, like something you might see in one of those awful menÕs magazines, one girl holding the other against herself, making her face come into contact with her breasts. Bethany, of course, didnÕt kiss EvelineÕs bosoms as she found her head pressed hotly to them. But when Eveline let her go the girl turned, slightly, and looked at the sumptuous cleavage sheÕd just been pressed into.
ÒYou have nice tits,Ó Bethany said, frankly, and lifted her squirtgun and placed the nozzle of it right against one of EvelineÕs nipples. You could see the womanÕs nipples easily, standing up like twin points, pushing against the fabric of her breasts. Bethany squeezed the trigger of her squirtgun but nothing came out.
We went downstairs. We were not willing or unwilling, just two nude girls hustled along with the maids behind us and Eveline leading the way. BethanyÕs boots went ÔtrompÕ ÔtrompÕ ÔtrompÕ down the homeÕs grand front staircase. I stepped more lightly in my heels, feeling awkward, almost wishing IÕd fall, so a twisted ankle could excuse me from the strange party we were invited to, where clothing (at least for us) appeared not to be needed.
Downstairs the house appeared to be empty. Bethany and I threaded our way past potted vines with flowering plants on them. We passed under a painting by Renoir of a child with a watering can. I saw gorgeous Edwardian-era furniture all aroud me, like my mom collects and refinishes, and wondered if Bethany and I were to sit on it with our bare bottoms. Passing a Grecian vase, I suddenly saw a man. He was sitting in a chair by himself at the far end of the room. He was dressed in an expensive Armani suit and he was smoking a cigar. The moment I saw him he saw me. I stopped in my tracks. Bethany froze beside me.
ÒThereÕs a man!Ó Bethany blurted. WeÕd only been nude with females up until now, though Steve, I remembered had been promised to be present at our little party. Perhaps IÕd thought weÕd be given party clothes downstairs, before he came. But now we were revealed, in all our girlish nudity, in front of this man. I didnÕt know what to say. Bethany seemed to quiver beside me, her bare bosoms jiggling with quiet nervousness on her chest. I felt my bottomcheeks huddling behind me. I was acutely aware of their bulbing nakedness. Across the manÕs knees, lying quite innocuously, as if placed there by accident, I saw a leather riding crop. I remembered how the horses at the stables I visited as a young girl would start when they were struck on the rump with one.
ÒPlease, girls, show a little more bravery than that,Ó Eveline said with a laugh. I felt hands upon my back, low down, near my waist, and I was impelled forward. Beside me Bethany stumbled forward in her boots. The man, seeming not to notice us, blew smoke rings as he held aloft his cigar.
ÒHereÕs two little ones for your party, dear,Ó Eveline said to the man. ÒJust like I promised.Ó
The man was drop-dead gorgeous. I think if he hadnÕt been I would have clawed and kicked at the women at my back, including Eveline. He looked rather like Tom Cruise, but was taller, much taller, and sat nonchalantly, as if rather bored, not seeming to mind in the least that we were without clothes at his party, nor aroused either, though I saw his pants sported a distinct bulge where his thighs met.
He was young, no more than 30. His face had a scar across one cheek that frightened me, but at the same time made me feel for him, for it must have hurt for him to suffer whatever it was that caused it. He had a ring on each finger, one with a ruby in it, the other a diamond. He wore diamond cufflinks on his suit and he had one leg casually crossed over the other, leaving enough space between his crossed legs to show us he was amply equipped in the crotch.
Bethany seemed as impressed as I was by the man. Despite her lack of panties she walked up to him, as the maids urged us, and we stood before him, in the altogether, wearing just our little bowties and our cuffs and shoes. Bethany aimed her squirtgun at the man menacingly, as if to shoot him if he tried anything with her.
I was still flinching a little at being described as a Òlittle oneÓ by Eveline. I wasnÕt as tall as she was but surely, with my breasts, I was at least as well endowed, wasnÕt I? I thrust forward my hips, feeling the wobble of my tits on my chest. My nipples were painted. The man looked at them, then up at my face, as if not to embarrass me by gazing at my sexual places. Beside me Bethany, more from mere confusion, I think, for we were both feeling warm between our legs, stuck out her hips, perhaps hoping the man she was still pointing her squirtgun at might brave her gun and tickle her pussy.
ÒYou girls are lovely but I cannot have you greet my guests quite so openly,Ó the man said to both Bethany and I, but looking, I felt, longer at me than at her. I was older, after all, taller than she and with bigger bosoms. He bid me to come close. He kept his riding crop across his knees but he reached down beside his chair and picked up a can of Kool-Whip.
I shivered. The man reached behind me as I came up beside him. He palmed my bottom, but not searchingly, merely to hold me. Then he applied pressure to my rump with his hand, forcing me to offer him my pussy. In the space between my legs I was feeling increasingly moist.
ÒAre you a virgin?Ó he asked me frankly.
ÒYes,Ó I whispered. For some strange reason, despite the presence of the riding crop in his lap, I suddenly felt more protected and loved than IÕd ever felt before in my life. This was not a boyfriend who would fight with me. He would command, but only when I was able, I felt to obey, and then he would expect me to listen and do as I was told.
ÒVery good,Ó he said. ÒAll the more reason you should not show too much too soon.Ó He brought the can of Kool-Whip close to my cunt. I waited. He smiled, slyly. He depressed the top of the can.
ÒYeeK!Ó I shouted. I donÕt know what I expected. But the cream that came spurting out of the can was ice cold. It spattered across my pubis. It coated my pussy hairs with white foam and then the man, urging me to part my legs, which caused me to bend my knees, aimed the foam lower and sprayed me underneath, not just in my pubic triangle but actually against the virgin labial lips between my legs.
ÒOoohhh,Ó I shuddered. I felt so hot between my legs and now this icy Kool-Whip was being applied by this total stranger to my most private place. He squirted carefully, slowly, not in a continuous stream, which might have made a mess, but with artful grace, holding me still with a hand firmly against my bottom, forcing me to offer him my sex.
When I was well-creamed the man let me go. I returned to Bethany, my pussy covered with white stuff but otherwise as IÕd been before. I liked it that the man, so easily able to take liberties with my person, had instead totally restrained himself, not even touching me, except upon my bottom, to hold me close to him. This was quite different from my boyfriend back home! HeÕd yelled ÒHeel, bitch!Ó and expected me to drop to my knees like a trained dog! And not merely to play at being his doggie but to do the unspeakable act of zipping open his fly and putting him in my mouth! This man, though I knew not what else he had planned for me, seemed much more accomplished. He touched me like a father might, though being much younger, and restrained what must have been an obvious need on his part bulging up between the legs of his trousers.
Bethany went ÔtrompÕ ÔtrompÕ ÔtrompÕ in her boots up to the man. He placed a hand round her waist. She fliched. His hand passed down over her bottom and he murmured something to her. Then, just as heÕd done with me, he took the Kool-Whip and sprayed it on her puss.
ÒEeeek!Ó Bethany hollared. But I could tell she wasnÕt going to back away from him, because IÕd had Kool-Whip put on me and she was kind of like a little sister in always wanting to keep up with me in whatever I did. The man coated her pudenda very slowly, as if covering her up with the modest intent of a mother. When her pussy had been nicely creamed he released her. She came back to me, her eyes wide, holding her squirtgun and, I think, wishing to feel herself down there between her legs, but afraid to. Perhaps she even wished to jam the nozzle of her squritgun between her legs, I thought naughtily to myself. I almost wished sheÕd do that to me.
I heard voices behind me. I turned. Steve was being escorted into the room, by Eveline. My eyes nearly popped out of my head as I saw his condition. He was completely undressed. He wore new sneakers, but nothing more. Sticking out in front of him, like a big erect snake, was his penis. IÕd never seen one before. It practically blew my mind, seeing his, it was so very long and exquisitely hard. Steve had been shaved and bathed and his hair had been bound behind his head with a pink ribbon. I laughed, seeing the ribbon. I heard Bethany giggle. Yet his chest was a powerful, rippling mass of hard muscle, and his arms and legs were like limbs that you see on weightlifters, or the best high school football players. His stomach was flat and hard and as he passed me, barely noticing me, I saw his buns were very small and tight. They were white, like the space of flesh where his cock grew from his body. The rest of him was dark, from being out in the sun.
ÒSteven, my boy,Ó the man said with a wry trace of a smile. He uncrossed his legs. He was about to draw a puff on his cigar but, I think in deference to Steven, he did not. He looked the boy over and then regarded him as, I thought, an older man might regard someone who may one day take his place. ÒYou will find this much pleasanter work than drug running,Ó the man said to Steven. ÒSorry about the pink bow, but the ladies insisted. You are well fitted for the work theyÕll be giving you,Ó the man said. He glanced directly at StevenÕs stiff genitals. ÒTry not to wave that thing in my face, eh?Ó
ÒSorry, sir,Ó Steven said. He stepped back a pace from the man.
ÒOf course in my opinion, at my age, I still feel it would be better for you if you were in high school doing your studies,Ó the man said to Steven. This time his hand felt a need to lift his cigar to his mouth and he permitted himself the liberty of puffing upon it. He blew the smoke out slowly, ending with a smoke ring. ÒBut, at your age, I admit I ran away myself, so I could get a start in the world, and not be a bookworm for the rest of my life.Ó He raised his hand. He gestured to the room around us. ÒAs you can see, IÕve done well,Ó the man said. ÒNow about your chores here, youÕll be keeping in good condition, of course, working out every day. And at night, as this evening, youÕre other parts,Ó the man paused, looked again at SteveÕs cock, ÒWill be seen to.Ó He nodded to Eveline. The woman approached Steve. She kissed his lips and allowed him to feel the cushiony presence of her breasts pressing softly against his bare chest. Then, with a smile, she turned Steve around, so that he was showing the man his naked ass.
ÒAh, yes, the backside,Ó the man said. He reached for the crop in his lap and fingered it. ÒTell me, Steve, have you ever participated in anal sex?Ó the man asked.
ÒNo, and I wouldnÕt want to, either,Ó Steve said.
ÒGood,Ó the man nodded. ÒI fully agree. However, we must have you properly outfitted, IÕm afraid, for your duties this evening. You are young and strong and, quite frankly, a bit of a threat to the other men who will be attending our party tonight. I must show that you are compliant, else they wonÕt let their wives spend time with you. I have a device, here, which will make that quite easy. If you would, simply bend foward, spread your stance a little, and bring your arms behind you so I can get this over as quickly as possible.Ó He drew again upon his cigar, puffed out rings. ÒBelieve me, this is no pleasure for me to do, but with you not having, correctly, done anything in a manner to voilate your behind, IÕm afraid IÕm the only one present with the strength to do what is necessary.Ó
ÒGo ahead,Ó Steve said. ÒEveline warned me this was necessary.Ó He leaned foward. Reaching behind himself, with Eveline drawing on one of his wrists a little, in encouragement, he took hold of his ass cheeks and separated them.
ÒGood, good,Ó the man said. He drew from a bag beside his chair an enormous phallus. It was slim, however, and looked quite flexible. It had been pre-greased, by someone. The grease looked thick upon it, as one might expect if indeed Steve, like the rest of us, had never had anything stuck up his behind. IÕd read of such obscene things, on the Net, surfing through alt.sexy.men.gay. I think Bethany must have too, for she stood shivering beside me, watching, waiting, holding her little squirtgun aloft just in case anybody got any ideas of doing the same thing to her.
ÒIÕll try not to make this hurt,Ó the man said to Steve.
ÒJust jam it up,Ó Steve said. He gritted his teeth.
ÒYouÕre quite a good deal bolder with your behind than I would have been, at your age,Ó the man said to Steve.
ÒIÕm going to fuck your wifeÕs brains out when this is over,Ó Steve warned.
The man laughed. ÒMy delicate Eveline? Ah, Steve. Yes, you will indeed get to have her, but you must perform first for the other ladies, at our party tonight. Sorry--Ó he said then, and wedged the big dildo-thing between the cheeks of SteveÕs ass.
ÒUhn,Ó Steve grunted.
ÒDonÕt tighten yourself, my boy. It wonÕt make this any easier,Ó the man said. He wrinkled his nose. ÒIÕm glad you were given a bath. IÕd have hated to have done this to you after youÕd spent 3 days on the road.Ó
ÒYeah, up yours, just get it in. Your ass stinks too,Ó Steve answered.
ÒOh!Ó Bethany cried. He hand flew to her mouth as she watched Steve suddenly lurch forward. Eveline caught him, pressed him back, a hand low upon his belly, her fingers separating to make room for the growth of his real cock in front.
ÒUngh! OW!Ó Steve yelped. Eveline stroked his penis with her other hand, consoling him.
ÒHold still, dearest, youÕll do the same to me with this big thing youÕve got and you know it,Ó Eveline said. Then, nodding at her husband, she said, ÒDo him, dear. He deserves it. He already told me upstairs how heÕs going to rape my ass with his big proud penis.Ó
ÒUnh...unh...Ack!Ó Steve groaned. He gritted his teeth. Behind him, as he held his ass open for the man, the man inserted the dildo. It went up slowly at first, then more quickly, and Bethany and I stood watching with our bottomcheeks clenched, knowing weÕd never let such an awful thing be done to ourselves!
ÒYes, that feels nice and full, doesnÕt it, you wicked boy,Ó Eveline said to Steve. She was milking his cock now, pulling on it in a manner that I thought must be painful for him, though he seemed not to mind. Up, up, the big dildo went into his backside, until at last, with a sigh of relief, the man announced that he had it all the way up.
Stiffly, Steve straightened. ÒGod, Damn! I donÕt think I can walk with that fucking shit up my ass!Ó Steve said. The man laughed.
ÒYouÕll manage, my boy, but it will reassure the other men that you wonÕt run away with their wives!Ó He pulled a leather thong that reminded me a bit of a girdle from the black leather bag beside his chair. The girdle-thong thing was split into two, and the man now fitted the two halves of the girdle together over the stump of the dildo that stuck out of SteveÕs bottom. When it was together, holding the stump in place, the man wrapped it around SteveÕs front. Eveline helped him. She snapped the girdleÕs split front closed around SteveÕs penis. There was a hole in the girdle for his balls to hang through. This had a small drawstring permitting the hole to be slipped tighter or larger around the balls. Eveline, getting the girdle closed around SteveÕs penis, now tightened the hole thru which his balls descended so that his testicles were contstricted.
ÒThat will help keep you from cuming,Ó Eveline said in a soft whisper to Steve, as if sharing a secret with him.
In back, there were manacles attached to the girdle. As Eveline closed the girdle around SteveÕs cock, the man behind him bound his wrists with the manacles. When they were both finished, the process taking a while, me and Bethany wishing we could muss the cream between our legs by rubbbing our slits, Steve looked quite sexy. His ass was split down the back by a leather thong, which showed both his cheeks and at the same time had been fitted to him in such as way as to hold the dildo up his ass in place. Between his legs, his hairy balls stuck down through the opening left in the girdleÕs thong. And in front, his penis, hard as a stone sculptureÕs, had been encased round itÕs base by the same thong splitting his ass. Nothing hid the view of his big stiff penis and nothing hid the view of his plump little ass, save the thong which cut between the cheeks of his bottom and held the dildo up inside his gut. In addition, his balls were as visible as before, though they hung lower now because the of the tightness of the girdle forcing them to descend.
Steve turned to us, his hands bound behind him. ÒDonÕt laugh, cunts,Ó he warned us. We both suppressed giggles but couldnÕt help looking at his big, captive cock, and the exciting display of his balls. I wished heÕd turn again so I could admire his well-popped ass.
ÒDear, do something about that dick of his, would you?Ó the man said to Eveline. ÒHere, do you want my whipped cream? IÕm finished with the girls.Ó
ÒOh no,Ó Eveline said. She smiled. ÒI want to dip this fine boyÕs penis in chocolate. The ladies will simply adore that!Ó
The two maids appeared. I hadnÕt noticed their absence, I was so enthralled by SteveÕs butt-raping and his fixing within the girdle. Between them they carried a wastebasket. It was made of plastic, as if to keep their fingers from being burned. Brimming within, I saw what appeared to be a deep pool of chocolate.
The maids set the wastebasket on a low coffee table near the man.
ÒKneel, dearest,Ó Eveline said to Steve. Lightly she put a finger to his back, down by his waist. Steve heeded her and dropped to his knees, letting them come to rest on the end of the coffee table. Of course, doing this, his dick came within inches of the warm, liquid chocolate. On the end of his penis was a dollop of pre-cum and it suddenly dropped within the liquid. I thought I heard a small hiss.
ÒHow hot is this?Ó Steve asked, kneeling a bit unsteadily, his penis itself in danger of plunging within the chocolate.
ÒNot too bad, I donÕt think,Ó Eveline said. She came round beside Steve and dipped a finger into the chocolate. She lifted it to her lips. ÒMmmm, delicious. ItÕs not too hot, dear. Plunge your penis right into it!Ó
With a momentÕs hesitation, gazing into the deep wastebasket full of melted chocolate, Steve drew in his breath. His chest expanded. It was big and heavy and powerful. Then, still holding his breath, he plunged his dick in.
ÒYeeeooo! ItÕs not very cool!Ó Steve howled. But he seemed to manage the heat and he held his penis within the pool of chocolate. He had little choice. Eveline had placed both her palms upon his ass and seemed determined to keep him submerged in the chocolate for as he could bear.
ÒAhhhh,Ó Steve announced suddenly, and drew his big, dripping penis out of the wastebasket. Clinging to the entire length of it was rich, brown chocoate. I watched, amazed. I wished dearly to finger my slit but didnÕt want to be seen by the man, messing up what heÕd so carefully applied to me.
ÒYes, itÕs gorgeous. Come and blow on it, girls, to cool it for him,Ó Eveline announced to us. Bethany and I couldnÕt refuse. He was so scrumptious, standing there with his chocolate-covered penis, that she and I almost raced each other as we ran up to him. I reached him first. Bethany had to run round to the other side of him. We bent, blew on his cock. It was gorgeous, almost a foot long, I guessed (though my mind might have been exaggerating a bit). BethanyÕs eyes danced as she blew on SteveÕs penis, as did mine. I wanted to lick it but Eveline warned us not to.
ÒHe might spill, girls,Ó she said. ÒHe must be saved for the party.Ó
ÒShall he dip his balls too?Ó Bethany asked. She and I straightened up, reluctantly.
ÒOh no,Ó Eveline answered. ÒHis testicles hang down from his body to keep the sperm healthy. Heat kills sperm. ThatÕs why men are made that way, didnÕt you know that?Ó Eveline asked.
ÒNoooo,Ó Bethany answered, staring at SteveÕs equipment.
ÒHowever, just like yourselves, Steve must be made modest,Ó Eveline said. She walked over to her husband. She had him give her the Kool-Whip. She returned to us, shaking the can. ÒIÕll spray a little of this on his balls so people donÕt see his hairy sack the minute they walk in the door.Ó She bent, told Steve to spread his legs. From behind, she squirted Kool-Whip on his nut sack.
ÒHey! ThatÕs cold!Ó Steve, his penis still cooling within its chocolate shell, announced.
ÒYes, dear, itÕs Kool-Whip,Ó Eveline explained. He was too big for her to get him completely coated from behind. She came round to his front and, moving Bethany out of her way, bent again and applied Kool-Whip to his balls from the front.
ÒPut a little of that on my dick too,Ó Steve said, for the chocolate was still quite warm against his penis.
ÒNo, dear. My pussy will be warm, just like the chocolate is,Ó Eveline told him. ÒGet used to it.Ó
I was told I would have to answer the door. I was not given any additional clothes to cover myself with. But I was still lightheaded from drinking and my sex was terribly itchy. For an inquisive finger, a sexy poke. I could feel my button buzzing away somewhere beneath the Kool-Whip.
BethanyÕs squirtgun was filled with baby oil. She was warned not to squirt people without permission. An indoor grill was set up and Steve, his cock dripping chocolate, was tasked with cooking hot dogs on the grill. He had to be careful, lest he roast his own weiner on it by accident.
I felt sexy. I watched Steve for a little while, perched on a chair, watching as he stood cooking hot dogs over the grill for our guests. I waited, listening for the doorbell to announce their arrival. I was told there would be several couples, perhaps an extra man or two, arriving alone. A woman might arrive also.
I saw that the Kool-Whip from my pussy was smudging onto the expensive chair seat I sat in but nobody seemed to mind. I sat with my thighs open, wishing I could diddle my slit. Bethany, trooping around the room in her boots with her squirtgun, seemed itchy too, wishing, I think, that she could shoot stuff with her gun and also that she could diddle her slit.
ÒHere, a gun for you too, if you wish,Ó Eveline said to me. She placed a small squirtgun on the arm of my chair. I saw it had milk in it.
ÒThanks,Ó I replied. I picked up the gun. ÒItÕs nice to have protection.Ó
ÒMmmm, youÕre sweet,Ó Eveline said. She patted the back of my head. ÒWill you serve drinks for us?Ó
ÒIf you wish,Ó I answered.
ÒIÕll mix them, you serve them,Ó Eveline said. I could see a wet bar across the room, and I nodded. ÒAfter the guests arrive.Ó
ÒYes,Ó I said. I picked up my squirtgun. Bethany crept close, then saw I was armed and veered away, perhaps changing her plans. Had she thought to disobey, to squirt me? I did not know. I wondered what I would have looked like, with baby oil dripping from my nose, my nipples.
The doorbell rang. I rose, went to the front door. I could feel my hips swinging behind me as I passed the grecian urn, walked under the painting of the child with her watering can.
30
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