that’s me,” I grinned.
“Holy. Fucking. Shit. Now, that’s a woman,” Jack whistled.
I turned to face the door. A six foot tall blonde supermodel walked into the bar, clearly out of place in a bar with a bunch of bikers. As I studied her and began wondering if she could lift her thirty-six inch long legs over her shoulders, Otis stood and turned around.
“Sam,” he hollered.
“Sam!” he screamed again as she walked to the bar.
Holy shit, that’s Samantha.
She turned around. As she made eye contact with the Big O, she looked like she’d seen a ghost.
A few minutes later, Otis brought her to the table and introduced her to all of us. Meeting her did little but fuel my desire to fuck Kat again. As she sat in the booth and laughed and talked to Otis about old times, I stared blankly at the walls and tried to figure out what it was about Kat that made her a better piece of ass in my mind than any of the other women I had fucked recently.
Coming up with nothing she possessed other than an extremely eager attitude and a long set of legs, I was pleased when Otis and Sam stood to leave.
Knowing Otis was going to knock off a piece of for old time’s sake pussy, I turned toward Jack and Toad and yawned.
“Fellas, I’d be lyin’ if I said I was tired. But, I’m tired of lookin’ at you two fuckers. I’m gonna piss, hop on my sled, and head to Kat’s house. I’m in dire need of some pussy,” I said as I glanced toward the bathroom.
“It’s damned near midnight,” Toad said as he looked at his watch.
“Good. That’ll leave me damned near eight solid hours to fuck her before she’s got to get to school,” I said as I turned toward the bathroom.
As I walked to the bathroom, I realized I had yet to talk to Kat about her father. Tonight probably wouldn’t be a good time, I just needed to get laid, not piss anyone off. Maybe next week I’d say something when both of our minds were clear and she had the ability to listen to what it was I had to say.
For now, I simply needed her to be no more than what she was.
A piece of pussy.
KAT
Predicting my former boyfriend Kyle’s sexual actions was easy. He’d climb on me, fuck me, and climb off. From time to time, he’d demand I suck his dick, and he’d hold my head with his hands while I did so, making sure to make me as uncomfortable as possible during the entire process. Predicting what Biscuit was going to do, however, seemed to be nothing short of impossible.
The long list of sexual offerings Biscuit chose from seemed to be very vast, and to be brutally honest, as far as I was concerned I never wanted to be fucked in a bed or in the missionary position again as long as I lived.
“Get up here and sit on my face,” he said as he bent over backwards and rested his shoulders and the back of his head on the table.
The deck off of the apartment jutted out to the side, and hung from the exterior wall for all the world to see. Every apartment in the building had a similar deck, and they were situated directly above, below, and beside each other. Mine was approximately eight feet by eight feet, and was just large enough for the small glass table and four chairs I had positioned on it for sitting and enjoying the evening air or having a drink.
As much as I wanted to do what he asked of me, the flimsy table, at least in my opinion, wasn’t suitable for both of us to be fucking on.
“I think it might collapse,” I shrugged.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he chuckled as he rolled onto his side and stood.
He turned toward the table and began inspecting the legs, upper portion, and the surface of the glass.
“Get this fucker at Home Depot?” he asked as he examined the table.
“Wow. As a matter of fact we did,” I responded.
“Well, it’ll do just fine,” he sighed, “Toad’s got one just like it at his place on the back deck, and I stood on the bastard one Sunday and told a story. Motherfucker never collapsed on me, so
“Holy. Fucking. Shit. Now, that’s a woman,” Jack whistled.
I turned to face the door. A six foot tall blonde supermodel walked into the bar, clearly out of place in a bar with a bunch of bikers. As I studied her and began wondering if she could lift her thirty-six inch long legs over her shoulders, Otis stood and turned around.
“Sam,” he hollered.
“Sam!” he screamed again as she walked to the bar.
Holy shit, that’s Samantha.
She turned around. As she made eye contact with the Big O, she looked like she’d seen a ghost.
A few minutes later, Otis brought her to the table and introduced her to all of us. Meeting her did little but fuel my desire to fuck Kat again. As she sat in the booth and laughed and talked to Otis about old times, I stared blankly at the walls and tried to figure out what it was about Kat that made her a better piece of ass in my mind than any of the other women I had fucked recently.
Coming up with nothing she possessed other than an extremely eager attitude and a long set of legs, I was pleased when Otis and Sam stood to leave.
Knowing Otis was going to knock off a piece of for old time’s sake pussy, I turned toward Jack and Toad and yawned.
“Fellas, I’d be lyin’ if I said I was tired. But, I’m tired of lookin’ at you two fuckers. I’m gonna piss, hop on my sled, and head to Kat’s house. I’m in dire need of some pussy,” I said as I glanced toward the bathroom.
“It’s damned near midnight,” Toad said as he looked at his watch.
“Good. That’ll leave me damned near eight solid hours to fuck her before she’s got to get to school,” I said as I turned toward the bathroom.
As I walked to the bathroom, I realized I had yet to talk to Kat about her father. Tonight probably wouldn’t be a good time, I just needed to get laid, not piss anyone off. Maybe next week I’d say something when both of our minds were clear and she had the ability to listen to what it was I had to say.
For now, I simply needed her to be no more than what she was.
A piece of pussy.
KAT
Predicting my former boyfriend Kyle’s sexual actions was easy. He’d climb on me, fuck me, and climb off. From time to time, he’d demand I suck his dick, and he’d hold my head with his hands while I did so, making sure to make me as uncomfortable as possible during the entire process. Predicting what Biscuit was going to do, however, seemed to be nothing short of impossible.
The long list of sexual offerings Biscuit chose from seemed to be very vast, and to be brutally honest, as far as I was concerned I never wanted to be fucked in a bed or in the missionary position again as long as I lived.
“Get up here and sit on my face,” he said as he bent over backwards and rested his shoulders and the back of his head on the table.
The deck off of the apartment jutted out to the side, and hung from the exterior wall for all the world to see. Every apartment in the building had a similar deck, and they were situated directly above, below, and beside each other. Mine was approximately eight feet by eight feet, and was just large enough for the small glass table and four chairs I had positioned on it for sitting and enjoying the evening air or having a drink.
As much as I wanted to do what he asked of me, the flimsy table, at least in my opinion, wasn’t suitable for both of us to be fucking on.
“I think it might collapse,” I shrugged.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he chuckled as he rolled onto his side and stood.
He turned toward the table and began inspecting the legs, upper portion, and the surface of the glass.
“Get this fucker at Home Depot?” he asked as he examined the table.
“Wow. As a matter of fact we did,” I responded.
“Well, it’ll do just fine,” he sighed, “Toad’s got one just like it at his place on the back deck, and I stood on the bastard one Sunday and told a story. Motherfucker never collapsed on me, so
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