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From: mandible <" mandible"@deaths.door>
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Subject: ASSM: BITCHES
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ADULT POST NOT FOR YOUR EYES






The Bitches Upstairs
BY mandible

	There were four apartments in the building, mostly college students
like us. We called the girls upstairs the Bitches, because they were
haughty and beautiful. There seemed to be three of them in a two-bedroom
apartment, which caused speculation. My roomate Gene hated them, because
he'd tried to talk a few times and been ignored. I always spoke to them,
but never paused for the answer, so they liked me better.
	Dissertation on bitchery: Bitches try to put you in your place. If you
get in a subordinate place when they put you there, you are a wimp as
far as they are concerned. If you notice them but don't seem to care
much, they are offended and try to attract you. If you become attracted,
you can then be put in your place. An easy assumption of superiority
usually works wonders on them. I acted as though I'd just come from
visiting a chick way better than them, and barely noticed them..
	Gene went home for the summer, but paid for the apartment so we could
keep it. The other two apartments went vacant, so for a few weeks it was
just me and the Bitches. I passed Red Bitch as I came in, and called
"Hi," as I breezed past her. She almost looked like she wanted to talk,
I mused. Tiffany's red hair and tight expression had earned her the
title of Red Bitch as soon as she moved in here; by extension the
'bitch' had spread to her friends, Black Bitch and Brown Bitch. As I
went in my apartment, she was still on the staircase looking down. I
realized she'd called something down to me; I backed up and called
"What?"
	"Did Gene go home?" she wanted to know. I told her, yep, sure did, and
left before she could dismiss me. I went in and set my books down, got a
soda and turned on the tv. The phone rang. I answered it and was
surprised to hear Red Bitch again. "Gene's gone?" she asked again, and I
told her, yes, he sure, was, could I do anything for her? "That
depends," she said, and giggled. I'd never heard her giggle, and I
raised an eyebrow. "If you can get up here in five minutes with a
pitcher of margaritas, you can have a blow job." My other eyebrow
raised.
	"Five minutes? No way," I told her calmly as my weenie began inflating
like the Goodyear blimp. "I'd have to go to the store, come back, etc,
etc." I thought about the way she'd said 'have a blow job." Not 'I'll
give you a blow job." Probably from the dog, I thought disgustedly. Or a
vacuum cleaner. "You must really want a drink, honey."
	She giggled delightedly. "It's a bet, actually. She bet you wouldn't,
oops. So you can't get a pitcher in five minutes?"
	"Sorry, darling," I told her boredly. "Some other time, I'm sure.
G'bye." I hung up and ran into the kitchen, dumping a frozen margarita
mix into the fortunately clean blender and dumping in water and tequila
as fast as I could. Pouring the mix into an earthenware pitcher, I ran
quietly up the stairs and rang their doorbell. Black Bitch, known as
Heather, answered it. Her eyes widened when she saw the pitcher in my
hand. "Tiffany was looking for some margaritas, I think?" I asked her.
"Hi, Heather. Slow day?" She called for Tiffany in a strange voice.
	Red giggled somewhere out of sight. "Bring 'em in here," she called.
Heather and I looked at each other, then she led me to the living room.
Tiffany and Clea, who was usually called Brown Bitch behind her back,
sat glaring at each other. Clea was wearing a very skimpy halter top and
what looked like the bottom of a bathing suit. She was sunburned and
seemed drunk. Tiffany was giggly and delighted, fixing each of us a
margarita but insisting on Clea having the first. I tried not to stare
at Clea's perfect tits under that top, but if I looked away there was
Tiffany's lovely ass twitching as she stirred drinks, or Heather's
drown-in eyes and cloud of hair. Clea seemed annoyed at me. Finally she
slammed her glass down and glared at Tiffany.
	"I hope you don't think I'm -" she began. Tiffany roared with laughter
and a second later Heather began tinkling little hee-hees. I began to
grin.
	"Well," said Tiffany happily, "you DID say you'd give a two-hour
blowjob for a pitcher of margaritas right now." Her tight little butt
wagged like a happy dog's. Heather had a hand over her mouth, hee-heeing
away.
	Clea turned to me. "You don't really think -"
	I cut her off myself, with no trace of a smile. "You barely know me,
and you've never cared to make friends. Why would I expect that, and I
already turned it down. I just brought you the drink because Tiffany
asked. I knew it was a joke, and probably a mean one on me. Sorry it was
on you instead; drinks are on me. Have a good life." And I left,
casually.
	But I didn't get far; Heather and Tiffany both came after me. "It was a
joke," Heather was saying while Tiffany was saying "It wasn't a joke,"
and they both clutched at me in a way only a heel would ignore. So I'm a
heel.
	"You got me up there to embarass Clea, who looks drunk to me. Now you
have, and made me feel bad, too, so leave me alone. I expected you to
wave a vacuum cleaner at my nuts or some foolishness like that and say
'thanks for the pitcher,' but it wasn't even that good-natured.
Bitches." I went on, leaving them standing.
	"He's right," said a thin little voice behind me, and footsteps came
thudding down behind me again. Red caught me at my apartment door and
put a hand on my back. I turned around and she was very close to me,
then closer. I backed up, she stepped closer. Her green eyes were huge
and not bitchy at all, then we were kissing. I blinked and saw Heather's
astonished face as the door closed behind Tiffany.
	"I'm going to give you a blowjob," she said in a tiny voice. Her lower
lip was quivering. "And I'm going to try not to be a bitch the whole
time." She steered me towards the couch, fumbling at my zipper.
	"Take off your clothes, bitch," I suggested. She looked shocked, then
she blushed and smiled. Her hands came up eagerly to pull off her shirt,
and the skirt came off like magic. She stood in a pair of green panties,
like a centerfold. She smelled great, perfume and sweat and that lovely
musk that women's panties collect. I was stripping as fast as I could.
Seating myself on the edge of the couch, I pulled her down on the
carpeted floor and filled my hands with her thick red hair. I forced her
head down on my cock as she pretended to struggle and giggled. "Now,
actually it's all right to be a bitch if you're giving head. It's part
of the process, oh, you seem to know your way around a cock already. My
God. Oh, you are a bitch, Tiffany. Someone needs to take you in hand,"
and I tightened my hair-grip and shoved her face closer. She moaned and
cooperated. She was extremely cooperative. I decided she liked being
ordered around.
	"Get up here on the couch with me. Can I lick your pussy?" She shook
her head, causing my vision to blur, then scrambled up beside me. I fell
back and pulled her into a sixty-nine, enjoying the red bush in my face
without tasting it. The smell went to my head and I began to moan and
thrash, spanking her perfect ass as she sucked me dry. I gloated over
her as we disentangled ourselves. "If you weren't a conceited bitch
already I'd tell you what a great lover you are, and how nice you look
stripped down." I grabbed her and put her over my knee as if to spank
her; she merely rolled an eye at me and looked ready. I began rubbing
and massaging her buttocks. "These are great," I told her. "So firm and
soft, and such lovely skin. What's a bitch like you doing with stuff
this good?" She purred. Every time I called her a bitch I got the whip
hand more and more with her. Finally I let her dress and strolled to the
door with her. She apologized again about the joke earlier and I told
her to forget it.
	Wow, I made it with Red Bitch, I told myself. With Tiffany, a nice girl
who is sometimes a bitch, or likes to be. And before dinnertime. I went
out and had a meal at a restaurant for a change. Tiffany went down on
me, I thought happily as I ate, and if managed carefully, may again.
When I got home it was almost dark. The whole building was dark,
including the bitches upstairs. I let myself in and turned on the tv.
The couch smelled like Tiffany's panties, so I lay back and smiled.
There came a tapping at the door. No car lights, I thought. No entrance
door slamming. Someone from upstairs. Tiffany, back for more!
	I leaped up and answered the door. It was Heather, twisting her fingers
together and frowning nervously. She came on in without asking and sat
down, gazing at the floor. We exchanged pleasantries, and the
conversation stalled. She looked up at me with her huge eyes.
	"You and Tif, earlier," she said questioningly. I was quiet. Finally
she blurted, "What happened? You and Tif?"
	"Ask her," I suggested unsmilingly. This seemed to confound her.
	"You won't tell," she said as if this hadn't occurred to her. I was
drowning in her eyes. Her breasts were heaving distractingly. "All
right. I wanted to give you a blowjob. But Tif, she always, well, she
got ahead of me and then you let her in." She looked at me with a hungry
stare. "I never, well, you know, I tried but, I've had sex but I never,
you know. I never sucked a cock, there. And when Clea said that about
how if you'd come up without your dumbass roommate and a pitcher of
margaritas she'd, ah, I all of a sudden kind of wanted to blow somebody.
Wished I knew how. I suddenly thought how it would be, drinking
margaritas and sort of tasting and licking a guy's thing. And when you
came in, with that pitcher, and I know you're a nice guy, I just about
creamed. Didn't you see me? And you went right to them, and then you
told us off and we looked at each other and I said 'he's right' and she
went after you -"
	I put a hand over her mouth. "You said that? not Tiffany?" She nodded.
"I have to shower. Will you make us some margaritas? Just bring them
into the bedroom when they're ready." I felt like Hugh Hefner as I
showered; all I needed was a playmate to wash my cock. Then Heather got
into the shower with a paper cup of margaritas in each hand. Soon we
were very clean and very well acquainted, and I felt no urge to call her
'bitch.' I got her in the bed and began showing her where all the power
points are on a cock. She was a very fast learner and soon had me pinned
down on the bed as she ate my cock. Her cunt was very clean and juicy
and I found she knew very little about oral sex from a female viewpoint;
she'd never come from cunnilingus and didn't think she could. I told her
firmly she would sit on my face until she came, no matter how many hours
it took. In ten minutes she was crying as she ate me; her orgasm was so
juicy I would have come in my pants, so naturally I shot come in her
mouth, in her startled face, all over her lovely black hair and all down
her breasts. She leaped from the bed and ran to the bathroom to see
herself.
	"Oh, I'm so porno!" she was exulting. "God, what a slut, I always
wanted to do this, whee!" She began rubbing it all over her tits, then
on her face. We ended up back in the shower, hugging and kissing and
grinning like idiots. And eventually she went back upstairs; her friends
had gone to a party and wouldn't be back until late. I heard them
giggling up the stairs as I lay in my bed. "Hi Tif!" I yelled in the
empty building, wondering if she'd hear. I had dozed off by the time
someone hammered at my door. I staggered up, then thought 'Tiffany.' "
My cock throbbed awake as I headed for the door in my briefs.
	And it was Clea, really drunk this time, still in the tiny halter and
briefs, which she had apparently worn to the party. She was giggling
conspiratorially as she tiptoed in. "Anyone," she proclaimed, "who gives
me a margarita can have a blowjob." Without a word I handed her a
pitcher from the refrigerator; the one Heather had made. She took it and
turned it up without even looking for a glass. Her lips were wide and
strong, and slurped luxuriously at the side of the pitcher. Her eyes
leered at me over the pitcher. She lowered it finally; I estimated she'd
be out cold in fifteen minutes when that hit her system. She pouted at
me as she removed her halter. "Why'd you have t'give me such a big
mar-greeta?" she asked in a sing-song voice. "Now I haffa give you a
big, big blowjob. Oh, you got a big, big, dick. Oh, mister big dick,
please take advantage of my offer?" Her face became dark and almost ugly
as she sneered at me. "No one EVER turned down a blowjob from me, even
through someone else. You walked away! Well, you'll be singing a
different tune soon." Her breasts were really breathtaking, tiny areolae
and big knobby nipples. She put a hand on my cock and breathed alcohol
in my face.
	"I don't need a blowjob, you bitch. What if I told you I only get hot
for redheads?" I teased her, then started biting her neck. She put her
arms around me in a friendly way, leaning on me and going 'ooh' as I
tasted her; sweaty, but definitely a girl. She growled and pulled my
head down to her breasts. I put hickeys all over the wonderful things
while she growled in my ear, biting occasionally.
	"I'll get Tiffany down here and have her strip, then run away when
you're hot. I'll blink my eyes and say, mister, please suck on my
nipples, um, yeah, actually kinda bite 'em 'cause I'm so drunk I'm numb,
num, num, doo, doo doo, ohhh, I'm druuuuuuunk. Now the other one, oh,
oh, oh god, oh shit, how long have you been downstairs from me. Oh, my
head's spinning, let me just faint a l'il bit," she slipped to her
knees, "say, just look at this! Do you know I was about to say, oh all
right, if you girls insist, and take you in the bedroom this morning?
That was the joke, I would have done it, and now I'm gonna, ulp" and she
swallowed me whole! I saw stars and nearly fell down. As soon as I
could, which wasn't any too soon, I forced her to spit it out, then
carried her to the bedroom and forced her to resume. It took me a very
long time to come in her mouth, but she didn't mind because she was so
drunk. She hummed happily as sucked and licked, once switching to giving
me a boob job so she could chatter happily about how pleased she was to
find such a big friendly cock downstairs. My eyes were fixed helplessly
on her bobbing head as she slurped and yanked.
	"Uh," I tried to say, "Angel, I'm going to, oh I did, UNNNNGH!" She
didn't spill a drop, and the suction was incredible. When the room
stopped spinning I was laughing hysterically. All three bitches had
sucked my cock today! Gene was going to be insane with jealousy when I
told him. If I told him. If they didn't all ignore me tomorrow. Clea put
her head on my chest and began snoring. I moved her to a pillow and
pulled up the covers, snuggling companionably. Like a friend. No, I
wasn't telling anybody anything on any of these girls, though I bet
they'd all compare stories soon. Heather knew about Tif, or thought she
did. Tif didn't know about Heather, or apparently Heather about the
others. Today I'd cracked the whip just a bit on all of them, especially
Tiffany. Would they still respect me in the morning?

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