Make a feeble attempt to open your pants
From Create Your Own Story
You're not sure you want to see whatever shape your pants have squeezed your uncontrollably swollen cock into, but you can't take it any more. You reach down to free your pubic Perseus from his fabric labyrinth, and whimper as your fingers struggle to take hold of the button. The fleshy high tide of your priapsim pushes the cloth up around it so firmly that you can't get hold of it.
The redhead is watching this now with some amusement in her eyes and says into the phone, "Hey, hold on. I'm going to give you to the guy." She reaches the phone over to you past your hands and you have to move them back to your face to take it. You stare at it.
She says, "It's a phone. You say hello. You know? Hello?"
You put the phone to your ear. "Uh... hello?"
You hear a man's voice. "Hello, sir, who am I speaking to? The woman didn't mention your name."
"Oh, I'm Unnamed Main Character. Call me Umchary."
"OK, well, that's a strange name, sir, and strange names make me nervous, so if it's all right with you, I'll call you Mike. Mike, this is blah blah, EMT of blah blah..." and then it all becomes complete mush in your ears because the redhead has loosened the button of your pants and is proceeding to the zipper. She's watching you watch her while you talk. Are you talking? Talking is what you do on phones, isn't it? Maybe you should talk more.
"Uh, yeah, no, I feel okay I think," you say into the phone, attention befuddled. Did he ask you that?
"OK, Mike. You fell off a motorcycle?"
"Knocked off... Yeah, um-oh-oh-", you stutter. The redhead has folded your flyflaps down around your pelvis. She lets out a whew and says, "You know, there's a reason women wear the tight pants."
Leaning your head back and covering your eyes with your other hand, you regain control of your larynx and move the mouthpiece of the phone away. "Careful-- I'm close, I could blow--"
"Was that the cyclist?" the phone says.
"You could blow?" the redhead says. She smacks her lips. "Aren't you the funny one."
You say to the phone, "What? Was who the cyclist funny?"
Now there are fingers tracing your dampish shape through the last layer of fabric clothing your cock. As you look again, the purplish head pokes sluggishly out from under the elastic band of your briefs. The redhead makes an appreciative growl in her throat.
"Sir, is the woman I just spoke with the motorcyclist?"
"Oh no no no no, she's g... go..." You can't finish. You almost come as the redhead lifts your briefs off your cock and it slowly rises like Lazarus before her pretty face. It looks a bit beaten, a smeared, surly red, and darker patches which look like they could be bruises.
"I like the color," she says, pointing. You make a dismayed face, and she says, "The color of your underwear?" (The briefs you put on this morning are blue.)
"Oh... yeah, white is... kinda boring." Especially for moments like this.
"What's that, Mike? Mike, are you listening?" says the phone.
The redhead says, "I'll show you something else that's not boring, you little liar." She dips her head and moistens the head of your cock with her tongue, her eyes holding yours like a woodshop vice. Your monkey brain stops and all the sounds around you are clear, like when you were a boy and took your first real drag on a cigarette.
"Mike? Hello? Are you there, Mike?"
"Um, no," you say, meaning you aren't listening, which clearly you aren't, and the voice on the phone detunes into a televocal frisson as the redhead wraps her fingers around your cock at its root. She licks the underside of your shaft, pressing firmly into the cleft in the head, kisses the tip delicately, and then shoves her mouth down, all the while staring into your eyes. Your cockhead rubs against the roof of her mouth. She can fit rather a lot of you into her mouth. You realize her mouth is rather attractive. Then you realize you are becoming very hard. Very very hard.
"Oh my god, oh my god," you moan. You say to her, "I'm not going to last if you--"
The phone interrupts you. "Hang on, Mike! Someone is going to be there soon, just as soon as possible! Keep talking to me, Mike. Where does it hurt? Can you tell me where it hurts?"
You shout, "Justin, she's swallowing me whole and I'm about to explode!" Is his name Justin? You can't remember. The redhead is just going to town on your cock; maybe that's where the just comes from? Sometimes you are a mystery even to yourself.
Whatever his name is, you hear him say something like "I think he's a goner" - or maybe it's "he's on drugs"? - to someone else at the other end.
The way the redhead is working, both feel true. She's fucking your cock with her mouth, thrusting you in and out, deep and quick, squinting at you at her deepest, then a sensual pause as her lips reach the ridge of your cockhead again, she takes an extra-strong pull, her cheeks sinking in, then a little gasp and a brief break running her tongue over the head, worming the tip against the opening (which I believe is the meatus, anatomy lovers!), while pumping your shaft with her hands. After a few rounds of this, the tension crests, you come with a shout and then deep gasps, her lips and nose gliding down the undershaft and attaching at the base of your cock while your come shoots, your hips twitchthrusting at the sky.
ยง
An uncertain interval passes, symbolized by an obscure punctuation glyph. Lori the Fabulous has crawled up and spooned you right there on the road. A pair of clouds pass timelessly, surreally over you and away, twining and combining in shapes we will let others speculate about. After a few minutes, she moves her hand from your puddinglike cock long enough to snap your phone shut, where it slipped to the concrete beside you. Then her fingers go back to lazy, delicate touching. She pushes the flaccid tube of flesh to one side and gently tugs the hair below your navel. The motor of her car behind you is still running, and you could swear from the touch of her belly on your hip that hers is too.
"We can't lie here all day," she says finally. You snap awake. You were almost asleep on the pavement. The sky looks like an enormous bed, the clouds lascivious white and gray flowers, or tangled sheets. "I was actually kind of on my way somewhere.. a bit urgently, really." She sighs. "It's true," she asserts, though you said nothing. "Anyway, that ambulance might be coming around. You could wait for it, or.. you could come with me." She leans up on her arm and catches your eye through a curtain of red little-girl bedhead curls. "I'll make sure you get all the special treatment you need."
| Status | ||
| Health | Horny | Location: |
| MP | 0 | |
| Level | 1 | |
