Editor’s note: Much as I hate to break the narrative thread by posting out of sequence, I have to report on breaking news. The next post will be back to the story, cross my heart.
Last night was our biweekly sex party.
I awoke this morning in bed with Meg.
Her green eyes were open, looking at me.
I closed my eyes, and pulled her head to my shoulder. I stroked her red hair, brushing it with my cheek.
Pretty girl, morning wood—a sure fire cocktail for a lazy dom to want to get his rocks off.
I grabbed her hair.
“Suck my cock,” I ordered, pushing her head down, my eyes still closed.
She adjusted her body to comply. I stretched back to enjoy her mouth.
She took my cock in her hand, and put her lips to it.
I opened my eyes and looked down at Meg’s face. She grinned and lowered her eyes.
That’s when I saw it.
Written on my cock, in bold black ink, was the word “SLUT.”
Like an old-time advertisement on a farm silo.
“That rat bastard.”
“He told me I had to be sure you saw it.”
I grimaced, rubbing the word.
Sharpie marker. Permanent ink.
“Very funny. Now suck that dick, comedian.”
Meg took me in her mouth.
I watched as she worked the “S.”
I wanted her to swallow the “T.”
When will I learn that I shouldn’t sleep until Marcus is out cold?
And after all I do for him . . .
The evening before, after so much arm twisting, Marcus had finally relented and started his own blog.
Viviane raced over to offer technical support.
Madeline had cranked up her cam to lend moral support.
Meg helped too, until Jake showed up early for the party.
Jake knew enough to know at a glance that we had the situation under control.
So he took Meg to the next room to give her some righteous orgasms—and a few memorable bruises.
We talked over their sex as we launched his sex blog.
“Is Meg always this noisy?” Viviane asked, typing as Marcus contemplated templates.
“She’s keeping it quiet as we work,” I said.
“This one looks too much like a china pattern,” Marcus said, clicking the mouse, focused on his task.
Madeline: Let me know when you are ready for comments!
We did it.
We launched Marcus’s blog.
The Fuck House.
We tinkered as Jake and Meg came back in towels to see our work and to say howdy to Madeline.
Madline showed her tits to Jake.
In return, she got a gander at what lurks under his towel.
There was so much good feeling. Such joy at Marcus joining the bloggers.
Then, ten hours and a sex party later, I woke to the receiving end of his more sophomoric scribes.
Meg got the receiving end of my critique of his efforts.
A good firm blowjob, and I was merely a “LUT.”
I fucked myself down to “UT” before shooting on her belly.
A shower scrubbed his cleverness to oblivion.
Did Marcus care? That fucker?
He was breakfasting with the boys he had picked up online after Meg and I dozed off at five in the morning.
He was still out as I signed on after my shower.
Viviane: Nice pic!
Madeline: You ARE a slut!
Shelby: I miss all the fun!
That rat bastard takes pictures.
And he spreads them around.
My dick was the morning's headline news.