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Part 4: My Slut Season
[This is Part 4 of our continuing story, My Slut Season. If you missed the first three parts, you’ll find them by clicking "view archives." But to get you started, here’s where we left off:
"Sure enough he just rams that thing around, like it’s going to find the hole on its own. He’s poking, I’m giggling. He’s looking all nervous up over the seats; I’m playing with my tits and wriggling into the sticky floor, gunk at my back. He’s getting frustrated. Oh, alright, I think. He’s not much fun in a way. Too serious. It’s OK, though, because I’m just thrilled at my own audacity. At the place, the rotten seat smell, my open pussy, the movie carrying on, the dark, people unaware, the snap, crackle of cunt gum and this man wanting to get at me, wanting in."
And now for Part 4...]
So I take his penis and -- god my cunt’s so drooly, how could he have missed? -- guide it smoothly in...ah... yes. He’s inside my walls. He’s a slammer. I knew this about him before I stuck myself with him. I actually liked his crudeness. His thrusts were quick, pneumatic, hng-hng-hng-hng. Like, gotta get it fast, gotta get it fast. It was just so dirty and lewd. I loved it. I didn’t bother to even work on my orgasm. I was having my jollies just getting away with boldfaced fucking in public. As he fucked me, I lied there muttering "fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" to myself with each of his nervous thrusts.
He blew off inside me. I knew he would. It would never occur to him to ask, "Do you have a condom? Are you on something? Should I pull out?" I lied there, cunt up, after he was done, my legs hooked over the chair backs. It was the hole-to-the-sky posture many ancients told their women to maintain after a fuck -- to ensure pregnancy. I almost thought I could feel this stranger’s sperm in my cunt, desperately beating each other up to soldier on into my cervix.
He was gone by then. And you know what? I pinched my nipples there in the dark, alone in the movie theater with my cunt in the air. I fingered my clit; I played with my pussy until I came. The movie went silent just as I went over the edge. My first panting breaths puffed out into the silence. My pussy was so wet I knew if I moved my fingers they’d be able to hear my telltale crackle-juice all through the theater. As my cunt beat out this silent orgasm, I was giddy with nerves from my audacity until the music started up again and I could heave out my held breath. Hahh, hahh. I put on my clothes, sticky as they were, and left the theater through the back exit feeling filthy and delicious.
Anyway, after that, I committed one more bald act of sluthood that nearly crossed the line. I was driving out in the valley’s endless farmland. I stopped at this roadside fruit stand. Just wanted to buy some strawberries. But the heat and sun always make me horny. My skin gets clammy and I want to be naked. Feel the breeze brush my nipples. Can I help it? The fruit stand was off-road in the dirt and about the size of a small 7/11 with one wall missing. When I spotted the two guys running it, my bitch-in-heat mood came over me.
They had another customer before me. So I walked through the place, acting all sultry. I rubbed my hands over my nipples. Pure shameless. I was wearing a sleeveless, form-hugging blouse. Of course, it wasn’t long before my nipples pitted. It was funny because I would get behind the one customer and then rub my nips. The guy at the counter watched me lustfully, drop jawed. But when the customer turned around, I’d be -- quick -- handling a tomato or something. So then I made a big deal of like pinching my nipples -- pinch-pinch-pinch -- right in front of the poor clerk, not really looking at him, but like it was just a habit of mine. I’m sure he got hard right then and there. The second guy came from behind a fruit display and I did it again. He gawked, too. Customer turns around again. Nice peaches, here. Just checking out the fruit.
"Either of you guys single?" I asked when the ex-customer was finally pulling out of the dirt road onto the highway.
"Yeah, why?" the younger of them said. He was about 35, very regular looking. A little muscular, rough hands, receding hairline. They both wore jeans with worn soiled patches on the thighs.
"Can I be perfectly honest with you?" I asked. I was putting on this sex-kitten voice I like to do when I’m playing this game.
"Yeah." This younger guy said, grinning. The other, about ten or so years older, looked troubled.
"I’m really, well, hot," I said. And then I unbuttoned my shirt, opened it away from my bare breasts, and let it drop on the ground. Cars were going by on the highway. Though they probably couldn’t see me in the dark of the fruit stand, there was always the risk that one of them would pull in.
"By the way," I said, holding out two boxes of strawberries. "I want these."
I’m standing at the register, topless. I’m taking my time counting my money. And I’m reaching up every few seconds to prime my nipples. I make sure they come to a point. I hand the money over and my breasts touch the wood of the counter. Both men are gawking, but neither tells me to put my shirt on or anything, so I know I’ve got some takers. I sort of brush my nipples with my fingers. Makes a sound. They like the sound. It’s very convincing. Older guy gives me my change. I grab his fingers and pull his hand to my breast. He just stands there. Leaves his hand there. Takes no initiative.
"What exactly do you want, girlie," says the other guy, coming up behind me. He soon feels really close and a little threatening. My cunt is wet.
"What do you have?" I said. The hand on my breast is cold, clammy, also scratchy. My breast likes that. It’s giving me the hi sign -- like a twitch.
"Some people like it soft. But I bet you like it hard," said the near guy right up in my ear.
"You got anything like that?" I said.
"You’re awful bold coming in here, opening up your blouse and parading your titties at us."
"I noticed you seem to appreciate firm fruit, peaches and the like."
"Melons, you got there."
"Thank you." I feel this little squeeze. The guy behind the counter is getting bolder with my breast. And I’m pressed into the counter by this other guy behind me who I can’t see. Still, I’m aware that a car could come in any minute and ruin everything.
"What have you got here?" he asked. He reached between my legs.
"I don’t know," I said. Without any invitation, I hooked my hands into the elastic band of my shorts and my panties, both, and rode them down my hips, over the hump of my ass, below my crotch, down my legs and let them catch at my knees.
"Oh my god," the guy said, standing back. I imagine he was looking me over. I still couldn’t see him. I enjoyed the mystery. But my pussy twinged to know what he was looking at, and how he was looking. Suddenly I felt his hand come between my legs and rest on my pussy. "Oh my god," he said again. He would have felt the moisture there.
Now the guy behind the counter was squeezing both breasts really hard with both hands. Craning his neck, his eyes were riveted on my baby-smooth pussy. I felt my butt cheeks open. I felt air rush in where the sun don’t shine. Suddenly there’s a finger in my ass. Oh, god. It was a first. It felt shivery, deep, hot. He slapped my ass. "Is this open for business?" I bent forward to let my ass crack open. I felt the firm pressure of another finger entering my butthole. He worked the fingers in a kind of circle. I could feel him adding spittle with the other hand.
The guy in front of me was now working my tits over pretty good from across the counter. He was no slouch. "Come on over here," I said to him. He came around in front, pressed his skanky jeans into my sensitive pussy, and clamped his mouth down on my nipple right away. A finger went up my cunt. I shivered delight. Once again I was in that place, pressed naked between two hot, horny fully-clothed men. There was a finger up my cunt and two in my ass and I wanted to just let go, drop to the ground and take all the stuffing they coud give me. But suddenly I feel a squeeze around my legs and a lift, and this guy from behind has lifted me up and tossed me over his shoulder like I was weightless. My bare ass is up in the air for all passers by to see, and this guy is filling it with fingers. I feel very vulnerable, my legs dangling, especially when I feel my pants sliding down my legs, my panties right behind them, coming off with my sandals. Legs, feet, toes, all bare now -- the counter guy has stripped me. I’m this naked human produce in the hands of two gruff farmers.
"Warm her ass up for me, Dave," says the guy who has me slung over his shoulder. He starts moving. I feel a rather heavy hand whack across my ass cheeks one at a time.
My head is hanging down, my butt cheeks quiver with his spanking, my cunt is getting all loose and wet, and I see that I’m being carried out back behind the fruit stand.
"Where are we going?" I ask. I’m answered by two more warm-up cracks across the ass.
[To be continued...]
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