Date: Mon, 29 Sep 2003 03:00:35 +0000
From: Tony Ryan <hotstorylvr@hotmail.com>
Subject: In the Park

This story is a work of pure fiction. A fantasy. This is not real life. None
of the people involved are based on real life. Please don't do this in real
life. Don't read this if you aren't 18 or over. Please practice safe sex.

--

This is a little game we play to keep the fun alive. Public places.
Tonight's the local park. Midnight. The festivities will end in one hot fuck
or a criminal record. Either way, it's better to us than another night
watching bad reruns. My skimpy shorts around my ankles. My ratty old jock
strap framing my pale bubble butt. The smells of the public john assault my
nose. Maybe good, maybe bad, definitely yanking my crank. I hear the
crickets chirping and feel my cock leaking a steady drumbeat in my soiled
athletic supporter.

Soon, soft fingers brush against my nipples. Those easily aroused, fleshy
nubs. The size of silver dollars. Milk those and I'm your whore for life. My
lover can spend hours worshipping my tits. Chewing, inflaming, suckling like
a newborn pup. My moans to stop only encourage him further. Right now, I
feel his hands. I want them. I want more. He pulls my shirt over my elbows,
pushing my arms up, blocking my face. I can't see him. I don't want to.

Pablo's thick cock drills into me. My teeth graze my tank top, Pablo's
coarse hands tugging at my hair, pushing my head against the cold bathroom
wall. I can't see him, but I can feel him. He's hesitant, nervous, just for
a moment. Half of his manhood loiters in my shitter. Not enough. Never
enough. I push back.

"COME ON...fuck my white BITCH ass with your 'Rican meat!! Show me what a
MAN you are!!!! Don't be a PUSSY!!!"

Crude, I know, but does the trick. Usually does. He slams deep, all the way
home. My knees buckle and my prostate throbs in gratitude. His dirty nails
are burning holes in my hips. I can feel his foreskin peeling back. His
chest feels hairier than I remember, coarser. The sweat-drenched shirt
muffles my screams. His big, burly meat hooks wrench my near-bursting jock
pouch, setting up a long, painful, blissful milking process. His fingers
roll my balls, tug my fat babymakers sharply in place every time I need
reminding of who is in control. His thick stubble burns my smooth cheek...he
shaved today, didn't he? The thought shatters when his fat digits clamp on
the base of my 7 inches. My expert ass muscles clamp on his mammoth
cherrybuster. I finally manage to slither out of my suffocating shirt,
shoving my ass back on his monster. He responds with another mind-bending
thrust, his fingers finding and tweaking my nipples. As I spurt a fresh load
of pre-cum in my jock, I wonder what took him so long to remember those.

The first time I saw Pablo, I nearly fell off my chair...and right into his
bulging crotch. Our eyes locked, my deep blue and his fiery brown. He rubbed
the crotch of his painted-on leather pants. We left immediately. We've been
pretty much inseparable since then...some parts of us more than others. My
twinky, bitchy, sexy friend Ben was pissed off, of course, at least until
the day I asked him over to get their insides handed to them by his
deep-dicking slab of horseflesh. He wasn't complaining after that. Hell, he
could barely even walk, much less talk.

Spanish curses assail my ears as frequently as his sharp teeth nip my
dangling lobes. His breath is hot, reeks of alcohol. Wait, Pablo didn't
drink any...

"Como se llama, BITCH?"

Oh shit this isn't Pablo. He doesn't even speak English. He snickers into
the ear he just sampled, smooths his handiwork over with a very talented,
devoted tongue. This is some stranger violating my ass and it feels so good,
so wrong, so right, so bad. I feel sick and dirty and yet the load rips
through my entire body, a lightning bolt of pure white cream splattering in
my filthy jock while I get fucked by a man I have never even met. Why am I
not begging him to get out of me. Why am I getting hard again. My revived
prick gurgles in the fresh cock cream surrounding it. I can feel my second
load in minutes beginning to churn when he finally explodes inside my
violated ass. Volley after volley of his foreign fuck juice. He knows every
part of me now. He has conquered me. As he pulls out, I whimper. I don't
even know his name.

He turns me around to face him, this man. Ruggedly handsome, 6'5", even
taller than Pablo. His veined dickmeat shines in the dim lighting, every
inch covered in my juices. His teeth, crooked but not in the worst shape,
grin at me. I shudder, and yet, my hands run across his rippling chest,
tugging at the hair. I feel drawn to him as much as I am repulsed by him.

He helps me step out of my jock, giving my meat a rough tug as it slaps
against my blonde treasure trail and tight abs. He fingers my navel as he
covers his swarthy face in my jock. My semen, the sweat of my hard, shaking,
chiseled inner thighs, trickles into his mouth, wafts into his nose. I pull
him into a rough kiss, tasting myself on his thick beard.

I nearly bite his tongue off as I feel yet another tongue lapping at the
seed steadily trickling from my bruised ass. The lips are so loving and
experienced, and I know why.

"Pablooooo..." escapes me as a moan, while my chin and lips are bitten and
kissed.

He stands up. Fully dressed. Smirking like the jackass that he is. He wipes
his full fingers along the third man's wet club, putting them to his mouth
to sample our combined cum. He yanks the older, burlier man in for a steamy
makeout session that robs me of the power of speech or sensible thought.
Next he grabs me. I couldn't resist even if I wanted to.

"So you've met Ricky here?"

"Ricky" swatted at my lover, but a devilish gleam burned in both their sets
of dark eyes.

"It's Ricardo. Yeah, he's met me. Shit, you said he had the hottest pussy
you'd fucked. You sure were right."

My confusion was only matched by my anger. Yet, my hardon would not go down.
It got even bigger.

"You speak ENGLISH?"

"Si," he chuckled. "Have for a long time. I used to work for Pablo's
parents. He taught me English. I taught him...lotsa other things, heh."

"It was just a joke, baby. Thought you'd like to have some fun, some
surprises. Y'know? I'm sorry if you got pissed off, but I think you liked
it. Some parts sure did."

As he gropes my crotch, their grins return. My second load flies onto their
feet while my whole body quivers from humiliation and pleasure. God,
sometimes I hate being a slut (usually, I love it). I guess they'd pulled
quite a little joke over on me. Annoyed, I slip my shorts back on. Maybe I
could play a few mind games too. I spit at their feet, the saliva landing
beside my cum.

"You can keep the jock. You can keep him, too!"

I stormed off. If he didn't run after me, the relationship wasn't worth
saving anyway. I could always stay with Ben, if he hadn't corralled the
entire local baseball team to break his new bed in. Thankfully, Pablo's
footsteps were right behind me, and Ricky's were as well.

I didn't fight when Pablo embraced me. His hands in my hair, my face against
his large, hair-dusted pecs, feels so right. Always has. Always will. And
Ricky's hands are on me too. He's nearly as almost-nekkid as I am, bulging
out of his sticky cutoff shorts. Damn, the money I could make renting those
10 inches of his out. The reactions I'd get. That gives me an idea.

"Hey, lover. Think you can do me a favor?"

"Anything," he mutters as he kisses into my forehead. I buss his lips and
squeeze both sets of fleshsticks in my hot little hands. My grin easily
matches theirs.

"I think we should pay Ben a visit. His birthday is coming up in about a
month, and I can't think of a better early present..."