Venus Memoirs Chapter 1 Part 5
"I didn't complete it."
The audacity of this man. Physically and metaphorically. Pauly, as if on cue, reached out toward Tori's glistening, damp body and took one of her cigarettes. The casualness of the act confirmed my suspicion that he had been here before. Taking from her body, her bed, her purse, and her belongings, along with a handful of twenties for the pills. And as he lay down beside her, he inhaled deeply on a Camel Light with one hand, while using the other to caress his crooked, cum-covered penis.
"I can't take any more. You guys have to finish this part for me since I'm done," Tori groaned as she ran her fingers over her now swollen, sore, tangled, and sticky mons.
Looking down at the mess we had created on her, I felt a mix of embarrassment for my own barbarity and excitement at the same time. I had been bedding this girl on one side or another since her sophomore year, rocking various beds off their frames, breaking the trusses of economy futons, and even fucking her from both ends of sleeping bags in heated tents on several camping trips. There was nothing new about that, but I had never seen her give up before.
The strange thing about our chemistry was that what really turned her on was when I came, either inside her, on her body, or directly into her mouth, nose, or butt (rarely). The draining and flooding of my copious semen into or on to her always ignited her desire to climax once again, prompting her to keep trying to stimulate me physically. And no matter how hard I had pounded her begging pussy, it never seemed to be enough.
But that night was different.
And regardless of the girth and crudity of my sex organ, I knew Pauly had only endured slightly better, due to his apparent ability to remain hard while under the influence of drugs.
The underlying principle was that the more I came in her, the more she wanted; the more she got turned on by the idea of achieving another orgasm, desperately provoking me to continue, either with my fingers or my tongue, tasks that were challenging at best when I was in a delirious state. No matter how furiously I had hammered her pleading cunt... it wasn't enough.
Until this night.
As I gasped desperately to catch my breath, I realized I had my hand subconsciously stroking my thick, red, fully reloaded cock. I wasn't as smooth in asking for what I wanted or needed like the street hustlers, who had no qualms about demanding what they craved. I was still searching for the right words, but I still wanted to "finish," to give her one more pleasure-inducing moment, as it seemed my "shots" were becoming less potent as the night wore on. What I was now emptying into her was more resembling water than cream. However, I had to keep going.
"You can cum on my chest if you want," she offered as she scooted back into her collapsed mattress. "I'm going to sleep."
And so, abiding by her request, Pauly and I fumbled our way to her sides, each one settled between her armpits, and we struggled to maintain our weight while pounding away at our fatigued cock. We sought to sustain our positions in order to continue fucking her sweat-soaked breasts, attempting several variations of fucking her moaning, swollen breasts from different angles. At one point, we even plowed our cocks into her ample cleavage from opposite ends, one cock riding over the other and then under as we repeatedly collided into her bobbing boobs.
And after a few attempts at repositioning ourselves and receiving some complaints from below when we'd pushed our fun a little too far, we managed to settle down on either side of her limp, delirious face. We'd managed to arouse her feelings just enough for a weak, half-hearted nibble on our hard-fighting cockheads, her body being too tired to even turn towards one side or the other. She simply tilted her head slightly upward and licked at whatever cock occupied her pouting lips; at some point having to give in a bit more so that both unrelenting shafts could maneuver into her stretched-out mouth. With one hand pushing her head up and into this unwilling double-barreled throat fucking, and the other turning furiously between my cock and her sodden, dripping lips, I managed to milk the last crimp of my final orgasm into her flooded cheeks. My twitching, squirting penis sprayed the last watery threads of sperm across Pauly's thick shaft and Tori's puckered, wet lips as I collapsed into a satisfied, triumphant pile of spent muscles.
Pauly, now free to take control of Tori's face, pushed her head down, almost choking her in the process. But he showed no sign of concern or mercy as he prepared to slide past her tonsils and fuck the remainders of his messy loads into her throat as she struggled to free herself from beneath his dangling balls. I fought the urge to be her hero, her savior, her rescuer. I was mostly past the anger. But too tired to save her from this final blow, brought on by her own urges and cravings.
"You pay for the ticket, you take the ride."
As the night was approaching the end of its darkness before dawn, I recognized that I'd have to try and get some sleep for the next day. I was thankful that I was completely depleted in energy, or else I might've wasted it trying to dream up my revenge plan.
The night had seen us utterly exhaust our girlfriend's mind with lust. And she'd done the same to us.
Once Pauly had nonchalantly lit another cigarette off her bedside table, he shuffled his frail body back into his stained and tattered rags and lumbered, like a zombie, back into the dark night.
His departure, and my return to my full share of Tori's bed, was the sole comfort I could find in the ordeal.
But, like a wound that only hurts the ego, I was free from it on the spiritual cloud I now flew. I was alive. More alive than I'd ever been. And I embraced that feeling.
Read also:
- Sissy Experiences a Crucial Turning Point
- Exploring the Springs: Part 2
- Single Bedroom Available Part 8
- At Your Disposal
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