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My Slut Season
by Mona Garrison
I fucked him out back of the bar. In the alley. People come out for a smoke, whatever. Didn’t care. Well, cared enough to get my ass behind a parked car before I shoved my tits in his face. He was a little buzzed. We’d said all of eight words to each other. The best way, I thought. You could hear bottles clinking, people chattering, swearing, laughing, the door opening and closing, all while we were in our dark little corner of the gravelly alley, fucking. His pants below his knees; my skirt up so high might as well say I was nude from waist down, wheee -- felt so good. And my shaved kitty catching cold whenever he rose up and let the air in. Cuz it was wet with his slam sweat there. He fucked so hard and good. And because he was wasted, it wasn’t coming easy for him. Who cared? Pebbles dug into the skin on my back. My cunt was being opened and stuffed and rammed and worked over. The rush! I was feeling all limber and loose. Dug in with my shoulders, my feet, knees bent and stuck my cunt up and slammed him back. And so funny, too. Cuz after awhile I was so wet and had him so slimed you could hear that crackling sound of sex goo. When the chatter by the bar door lulled¡¦crackle, thud, slurp, thud. What if someone was out there having a smoke and heard us? Made me laugh.
I was a exhibitionist brat. Being half nude wasn’t always exciting enough because I could quickly pull the skirt down for cover if someone came around the car -- say a passenger getting in. I wanted the danger, so I pulled off my top. He didn’t notice. His muscled arms were locked straight, bracing him against the broken asphalt. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I laughed. My tits did the old shaky-quaky. My nipples jiggled hard. Having my nipples whipped from side to side -- that feeling -- it talks to Miss Twat in a very special way. Oh, god, it was hot. Guessed wrong: he did notice my breasts were in full view. Arms still locked, he dove his head down, scooped up nipple in his mouth, pulled and sucked, finally drew his head back and lip-pulled the nip till it popped out of his mouth with a great big smack.
"Shhh!" I said giggling my ass off. I thought they heard us cuz the chatter stopped suddenly. My lover didn’t stop. Or maybe he did. I expected to hear someone coming. Or be so deaf with fuck-lust that I only just noticed them when they were standing over me. Like, after one nice fat thrust of my ass. After his pubis pounded my mons -- oomph -- and made the nerve bundle underneath giddy. What would it be like to be spread out on this littered back alley, cunt open, breasts flailing, man fucking, and look up and see this face bearing down like a brimstone preacher on my whorish tits? But he dove down again. Other nip, this time, got his mouth all around it tight and pulled back, back, back. Breast stretched to follow those lips. Fatty gland going ’don’t leave me behind.’ Slut. Both my breasts are sluts. They’ll point for anything with a tongue.
Succulent smack sounds. The tit springs back, rolls, bounces. My nipples go zing. I’m trying so hard to laugh quiet. Not. The laugh is coming out through my nose. It won’t be curbed. Thinking this made me laugh -- it was me was curbed. Like a five dollar whore. Getting fucked deep the way I seemed to need it all the time those days. Dumping the smells from our sex into the air behind the bar with smacking slime fury and GETTING AWAY WITH IT.
Who was that guy anyway? We went our separate ways. Right after his spew -- my second blow-out orgasm. It was in the days before I found AFF and I wished I had his email because you don’t always find a good fuck, that willing and loose. But I was bad back then. I’d just found sex. Just realized what all those soft parts and holes and body fluids could do for me. And what power they had. Twenty. After a year with the boy from City College who wasn’t all that good in bed, but still got me off enough so that coming was becoming ¡¦ to die for. I use those words because, now I think back, man, I took some risks.
I went back a couple times to the same bar. First return, it was dull and disappointing. Since then I’ve learned that life doesn’t have instant replay. Second time, I actually seduced two guys playing pool. I’d had more to drink, this time, so I was working it. Sticking out my ass, and posing and the like. We played three-off pool and I would spread my legs out and bend over to take a shot. Brush my breasts back and forth against the cushion and made my cunt prickle. You know. A horny broad playing pool can be a bonifier, eh? We’re all three flirting. They’re making almost lewd comments. Finally, in one of my legs-spread bend-over moves, guy says to other: "like to get a piece of that." And I just blurted, "I wouldn’t mind getting a pair of pieces. Two-in-one." They start nudging and whispering. Game goes on. I’m giving them innuendo about "balls" every chance I get. They’re asking themselves, am I serious. All I had to do, time we lost the table, was nod and head for the back door, and they were after me like puppies.
"What? Here?" says one, when I pulled him behind the car. I just took his hand. Shoved my other hand down other guy’s pants, to give him the idea. Guided doubting Thomas’ hand under my blouse, up my ribs, under my sports bra, and onto raw breast meat, no passing go. That shut him up. A couple spilled out the back door then. Guy who’s wet dick hole my fingers just found had his eyes closed. Guy with his hand on my breast looked away from the door. As if they wouldn’t see what he was up to if his head were turned. Funny. The couple rushed off and around the corner to where the real street was. Oh, yeah, I had that giggly, bold ’n bratty feeling again. I wanted to rip everything off and just stand there naked. Legs wide, both pussy lips gaping. Stand nude behind the car facing the barroom door. Let people see what they could and guess the rest. Let these guys figure out how to peel and work me. Let them get me on the ground the way they wanted, take the parts they wanted, fuck the holes they wanted¡¦
For booze-lubed barflies, these guys were not so clever. I did a lot of undressing (them and me). A lot of hand placement. My dream was DP. One guy in my cunt, the other in my ass. (Now, I’d never been fucked in the ass. What did I know? It sounded adventurous and thrilling.) And it was my even wilder dream to have these two guys to DP me right there behind the bar, where any moment we could be stopped, even arrested by one of the cops that visited every couple hours or so. I even knew which guy I wanted in my cunt and which guy I wanted in my ass. The one whose cock could not stop drooling -- I wanted him in my ass. His cock wasn’t too broad or long. Just right. By then I had groped it up and knew its dimensions. I always love that first moment. The first seconds your fingers meet cock-flesh. It’s rubbery, warm, always surprising. The play of cock -- supple, squeezable, resilient -- between your fingers¡¦ I could go on. I love cock.
Anyway, these two guys were not ideal, as it turns out. But I did start on my first fantasy. I took off my blouse with the low scooped neck. Teasing was a waste of time. I snapped down my bra; my breasts bounced into the air like two cheerleader pom-poms. Guy number 1 got it right away. As my hands were behind my back undoing the bra clasp (my breasts preened outward) he grabbed at them with both hands. Ooh. That was a delicious moment. I had worn the flouncy skirt (without underwear) to the bar. Just in case someone got fresh and flipped up my skirt while I was bent over the pool table. (No one did). But out there -- still standing -- bare chested, these two guys groped me. I watched the door with glee. I would duck before whoever came out could be sure what they’d seen. It would be exciting. Game of hide and seek. When no one came out, I turned up the risk. Pulled up my skirt. These two guys gasped out things like "holy shit!" and laughed and unzipped their flies and grabbed their cocks one-handed. They did grope and touch me. Everywhere. Oh, they made me wet with roving hands. They excelled there. As I held up my skirt like a little girl who has to pee, my nipples got redder and knobby. My shaved little pussy got dewy at its opening. Drops, like rain down a window, trickled down my thighs. Three fingers in my cunt, teeth on my nipple, another hand squeezing my rump. Finger working its way into my ass crack. I was shivering. What, I thought, if someone comes out now? What would they see? We were behind a car that maybe hid me to just below the breastline. They could see my breasts and two guys’ heads and hands crawling over me like bees on honeycomb. They might hear one of us moaning. Or gasping.
The hand with three fingers up my vagina, I repositioned. Palm up, thumb on clit, fingertips on G-spot. Got him holding me like a bowling ball, pressure and titillation all in one. I gave him a great big "anghhh!" to let him know how good it was. I never really got my DP. It’s hard orchestrating too strangers in a back alley. Especially when they’re just drunk enough to have trouble with their hardons; but not enough trouble that they didn’t squirt all on me way before schedule. As they were popping they moaned. Moaned just as some big dude slipped out the barroom door grabbing his crotch like to take a whiz. The big dude looks our way. Next thing he starts walking around the car...
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