Monday, November 20, 2006

Toilet

“Jefferson?”

“Yeah, Viviane, what’s up?” I shifted where I stood, leaning against a cabin exterior with a foot propped behind me.

“I think I’m going to walk over to the pool. I hear the lesbians have organized an event exclusively for women.”

“Oh that sounds nice. Want me to come? You know my theory about lesbians: they only have sex when I tell them to.”

Viviane smiled. “No, I think I’ll be fine.” She looked over my shoulder. “Is that a friend of yours?”

“This thing? No. That’s just something to cushion my back from the wood shingles.” I pressed back into soft flesh. “I wouldn’t want to get a splinter.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Splinters can really hurt.” Viviane leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “I’ll try to find you later. Be good.”

“I’ll try! Kiss the lesbians for me.”

Viviane made her way through the crowd around us on the porch. She looked very cute in her black dress, I thought.

“Sir?” A muffled voice spoke into my shoulder. “Sir, do I make you comfortable?”

I ignored the voice. I wasn’t really in a mood to talk. I was enjoying myself, just watching people.

Out on the lawn, I could see Femcar with her face buried between a woman’s spread legs. Two guys were taking turns fucking Femcar from behind. I recognized Barry, stroking as he waited his turn.

“Hey, Barry,” I called.

“Hey, Jefferson. Want to come fuck Femcar?”

“Maybe later, pal. I’m just taking it easy now.”

“That’s cool.” Barry turned back to Femcar. He slapped her ass hard. “Fuck her like you mean it, man. Make that shit jiggle.”

It was nice to see everyone getting along so well.

“Sir? Do I make you comfortable, sir?”

“Yes,” I sighed. “You make me very comfortable.” I shifted my weight, pressing hard to squeeze her between my body and the rough wall behind her.

“Thank you, sir,” she breathed, struggling to inhale. “I am here for you to use.”

“Of course you are. Please remain silent unless addressed.”

“Yes, sir.”

I pulled out my flask and enjoyed a few long draughts of bourbon. I chatted for a few moments with the Aussie who had wrestled Barry during the match. He introduced me to the two women he was taking to the orgy room. One of them was wearing thigh-high laced boots with spike heels. I wanted to hear all about them.

I didn’t introduce my cushion. They didn’t acknowledge her presence.

They made their way into the orgy room. I looked and saw Lolita and Selina heading there as well. I caught Lolita’s eye. She waved. I waved back.

It looked like the orgy room was the new happening spot. That might be fun, I thought. But first, I should make good use of my cushion.

I stood forward. She drew a deep breath—her first in quite some time—and lowered herself from her toes. I had pinned her so that she had to lift herself in order to breathe at all.

She was nude but for a black-lace blindfold and a folded piece of poster board that hung from her neck. The outside of the handmade card read:

I am permitted to be used by any MAN (or MEN).

This was how I found her, standing in this spot. That was why I decided to make her my cushion.

She couldn’t see me, or anything else. She only knew me by the sound of my voice and the pressure of my body.

“So you are permitted to be used, are you?” I asked, holding the poster board.

“Yes, sir.”

I opened the card. The interior was blank.

“What is this? Some kind of dance card?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So men can sign it when they have used you? Or if they plan to use you? That kind of thing?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Interesting. Do you have a pen?”

“No, sir.”

“’No, sir?’ You have a card to sign but nothing with which to sign it?" I took a piece of her long, curly hair and twisted in my hand. “You’re not very bright, are you?”

“No, sir, I’m sorry. I am only good for a few things.”

“Such as?”

“Please, sir, let me use my mouth to please you.”

“I won’t allow you to waste my time. Are you too stupid to suck cock?”

“No, sir . . . I mean, yes sir, I can please you with my mouth, if you will permit me, sir.”

I put my face close to hers and took her jaw in my hand. I wrenched her mouth open and spoke into it. She jumped, startled to have me so close and so forceful.

“I have to warn you,” I said, my voice low and deep. “I am very accustomed to getting my cock sucked just the way I like it. If you fail, I’ll walk away, leaving you here to ponder your shitty cocksucking.”

“Yes, sir,” she began. “I will do my best to please . . . oh!”

I yanked the hair wrapped around my hand, forcing her down. She struggled to maintain balance as she was forcibly bent forward.

She regained her composure as she situated herself on her knees. Blind, she raised her head in the direction of the fist that held her hair. She parted her lips expectantly.

I parted her teeth with a finger. I gently stroked her teeth, moving from the canines to the molars. Another finger joined to press down on her tongue. She opened wider, taking four fingers. I pressed, edging my hand into her. As my knuckles passed her lips, she began to gag.

I pulled back. “Tsk,” I said. “I’m not optimistic about this.”

She heard the sound of my zipper and the thud of my wallet as my shorts hit the wooden porch.

A cluster of campers were standing an arm’s length away, leaning against a railing and sipping white wine from plastic cups. I didn’t know them. Perhaps one of them was the person who had given this woman permission to be used. Perhaps they were strangers to her as well.

They didn’t say anything to me, though, so I let them be. I was glad to have this little bit of anonymity—and commiserate privacy—as I used this object.

She took my cock in her mouth, gently lolling the head with her tongue. She pulsed and wavered her tongue under my shaft, moaning quietly in the back of her throat. She rested a hand gingerly on my hip.

It was a perfectly sweet and adoring blowjob, just what one might hope to have after a splendidly romantic prom date.

But I was not her prom date.

She had some nerve trying to make this sweet.

I slapped her hand from my hip and grabbed another fistful of hair.

I forced my cock to the back of her throat and held it there. Her head pulled away, instinctively, but my hands held her firm.

Surrender, I thought. I know when to release you. I won’t choke you—much.

She relaxed, holding me in her throat. Her tongue came back to life, licking the base of my shaft.

I released my grip slightly and pulled away, leaving the head of my cock on her tongue.

I listened as she caught her breath deeply though her nose. When it slowed to a more measured rate, I took her hair tightly once more and pushed my cock back to her esophagus.

Don’t fight me, I thought. I’ll let you have what you want, but you are going to do what I want so you appreciate the difference.

Her body went limp as I parked my cock in her.

“Good girl,” I said. I held her hair firmly and began to use her throat. I moved her head back and forth on me, pushing deep and holding my cock full in her. I widened my stance to push even deeper.

I pulled her back and forth rapidly, roughly using her skull to “please” my cock, as she had so wanted to do.

When she was nearing exhaustion from lack of oxygen, I let up.

“Keep my cock in your mouth,” I ordered. “But now you can suck it the way you want.”

Once again, my cock lolled between her cheeks. Once she seemed rested and content, I took up her hair and fucked her face again.

We traded this rhythm. She sucked my cock gently, I fucked her face roughly, back and forth. Never once did I remove myself from her mouth.

People walking along the porch would stop to watch, or press passed us. Sometimes they spoke to us. I ignored them.

Drool pooled in my pubic hair and soaked my balls, running in trails down my legs.

I was deep in her throat when she retched.

I pulled back, removing my cock from her mouth for the first time since she had landed on her knees.

She bent forward, coughing.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“Yes, sir,” she managed.

“Then why aren’t you sucking cock?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” she gasped. “I gagged on you. I thought I might vomit, sir.”

“Why is that of any concern to me?”

“I’m afraid, sir,” she panted, swallowing hard. “I fear I will displease you if I vomit on you, sir.”

“You have pleased me very well,” I said, placing a palm gently on her cheek.

“Thank you, sir. Would you care to use my pussy, sir? Or my ass, sir?”

“Suck my cock while I think it over,” I said. I took up her hair and held my cock to her lips. I shoved it into her throat and held her head firmly in place. I thought over my options.

She had done a very nice job. She deserved to get fucked as she wanted.

I could fuck her right there on the porch, but there was so little space and so much traffic.

I could drag her down into the grass, but the nearest staircase from the porch to the lawn was not convenient. Besides, I’d done the whole grass thing the night before.

I could take her into the orgy room. But my friends were there. They would be curious about her, and I was in no mood to talk. Besides, the orgy room was so pleasant—that was no place to use some object I had found loitering outside.

Then I saw the right place to go.

I pulled my cock from her throat and yanked up my pants. “Get up,” I said, grabbing her hair. “Come with me.” She was still standing when I yanked her hair. “God damn it, move your ass.”

“Yes, sir.” She stumbled to follow, walking backwards and bent over as I led her by the hair in my grip.

I pulled her slowly past clusters of people in conversation. Her arms flailed at the air as she struggled to keep from falling.

“In here,” I said, pushing open a screen door. “Be careful of the door,” I said, making no effort to stop it as it closed on her shoulder. “The door—please be careful.”

“I’m s-s-sorry, sir,” she stammered.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. I opened another door. “Okay, inside,” I said, pushing her ahead. She tripped and fell slightly, landing on a low object. She reached below her nude hip to feel it.

“A toilet, sir? Are we in a bathroom?”

“That’s right. Now stop asking questions. Bend over and hold the tank while I use your pussy.” I took something from my pocket and unzipped my shorts. I let them fall, stepping free once they hit the tile floor.

“The tank, sir?” she asked, turning. “Like this?” She bent over the bowl and hugged the tank behind it.

“That’s right. Now, don’t fuck this up and I won’t flush your pretty long hair.”

“Thank you, sir.” She spread her legs and raised her ass as she found her position. “You will use a condom, won’t you sir?”

“Jesus Hosanna,” I sighed, exasperated. “Sometimes I marvel at what I endure.” I pulled back my right hand.

“Yes.” I lowered my palm hard.

“Of.” Spank.

“Course.” Spank.

“I.” Spank.

“Will.” Spank.

“Use.” Spank.

“A.” Spank.

“Condom.” Spank.

Her ass reddened as I tore the package in my left hand. She had not cried out at all. Her stoicism was impressive.

“Satisfied?”

“Yes, sir, thank you, sir.” She wriggled her hips, expectantly.

I had pushed her into the first stall of a rather large restroom. It was shared by a long row of cabins and, as the camp was originally built for girls, used by everyone, there being no separate facilities for men and women.

Anyone squeamish about shared accommodations may have been more so to discover me fucking a woman bent over the toilet nearest the door.

If so, no one said anything. People came in, took care of their business, and left.

I fucked her roughly, keeping pace with the way I had treated her face.

Eliza, my fetish model sweetheart, appeared at my side.

“Oh, Jefferson, even in the toilet?”

I smiled at her. “Yes, my darling Eliza, even in the toilet.”

Eliza noticed the woman’s pink ass and gave a few whacks of her own. I moved aside as I fucked to give her room. The sound of flesh on flesh echoed against the tile.

Once again, the woman did not cry out.

Eliza looked up at me and smiled before excusing herself to another stall.

I busied myself with fucking until I realized someone else was watching.

Lolita leaned against the open stall door.

“Hey, Lolita,” I smiled. I leaned over to kiss her. She took my mouth into hers, meeting my tongue with her own.

The woman I was fucking sighed with the renewed vigor of my thrusts.

Lolita pulled back and grinned. She waved a hand toward the toilet. “Having fun?”

“Just fucking something I found,” I smiled. “Hey, are you busy?”

“Nah, just hanging around. Why?”

“Mind if I hang around with you?”

“Of course not,” she smiled. “I told you I would hang out with you tonight. Duh.”

“Awesome. Just give me a minute, okay?” I turned to the silent woman over the toilet. I grabbed her hips and fucked her until I collected a groan.

“All right,” I said, pulling out. I tugged the condom from my cock and threw it on her back. “Count backwards from one hundred, out loud,” I said, reaching for my shorts. “And then you can resume your position by the wall.”

“Thank you, sir. One hundred, ninety nine, ninety eight . . .”

I washed my hands as I chatted with Lolita.

“ . . . eighty seven, eighty six, eight five . . .”

I spanked the woman once more as we passed. “Tell your friends Jefferson did this to you.”

“ . . . unh, thank you, Jefferson, sir . . . eighty four, eighty three, eighty two . . .”

I took Lolita’s arm. “What do you want to do?” I asked.

“I want to make things happen,” she said.










5 comments:

Hotdog said...

"I am permitted to be used by any MAN (or MEN)." So it never occured to you to be NICE to her, to treat her like a human being? That's also using. What a selfish son-of-a-bitch you are!

Jefferson said...

There are many ways of being nice, Hotdog. This one seemed the most appropriate to the circumstances.

Firestarter said...

Okay, now that was really funny.

Bad Kitty said...

Yay! Two posts in one week!

And, hotdog, darlin'. . . he did treat her nicely. What he did was the nicest thing he could have done. To have ignored her would have made her sad.

Madeline Glass said...

I sort of wonder how many takers she would have gotten had her placard read, "I am permitted to be treated nicely by any human being."

Near-smothering, forced gagging, hard spanking and toilet fucking sounds plenty nice to me.

Uh-huh. Like that.