By Dick Gear
© 2012, All rights reserved.
I don’t really give a shit about people.
I’ve learned that it’s easier to just go through life doing what works for me.
Mostly that means fucking lots of chicks—the dumber and uglier they are, the easier it seems to be.
Easy. That’s how I like things.
I work an easy job. I work at a parking garage downtown, which is a pretty good place to take a nap when business is slow, and an even better place to score with dumb drunk sluts who are picking up their car after a night of clubbing.
Take this chick for example, the one I’m banging right now. I met her on the job just about an hour ago, and here I am back at her tiny little studio apartment, balls deep inside of her.
“You like it doggie style, hon?” I ask, as my testicles smash up against the underside of her pussy.
She nods noncommittally.
Whatever. I thought she might dig a little dirty talk but no skin off my nose. I’m going to nut soon either way.
Suddenly there’s a dark flash buzzing by me. I catch it out of the corner of my eye and it makes me jump. My dick pops out and some of her juices splash onto my stomach. “Fuck was that?” I say.
She looks over her shoulder at me. Her forehead crinkles. “You mean Skittles?”
“It wasn’t a bag of candy, babe. It’s something else.”
“No, that’s Skittles,” she giggles, pointing at the top of her refrigerator. Now I see it: a jet-black cat glaring at me with those dumb yellow cat eyes. Its tail is flicking angrily back and forth.
“I don’t think he likes me.”
“He’s very territorial,” she grins, sticks her ass up in the air. “Just ignore him.”
“Okey Dokey.” I’m used to cats. I should have known she’d have one; every damn single chick in the city has at least one cat, if not two or three.
Unfortunately I’m allergic, so now I really need to jizz in this pig’s face and get the heck out of this shit pit.
When I slip my cock back inside her hair pie, she’s sopping wet like a bowl of Cream of Wheat. She moans and pushes against me. “Fuck, yes. That’s it,” she gasps.
Now she’s into it. Maybe it’s voyeurism; she kind of digs being watched, even if the watcher is just a dumb old housecat. I decide to play along. “Skittles is pissed off,” I tell her.
She moans again and rocks quickly back and forth as I slam into her ass cheeks.
The cat jumps down from the fridge and starts running around the little room like it’s just eaten a pound of catnip.
“Don’t stop,” she says.
“He’s about to attack.”
“No. He almost never bites. I promise. Keep doing me right there.”
I look over my shoulder. The cat is only a few feet away, staring for the moment.
He’s actually kind of creeping me out, now, for real. Maybe I should stop joking about it. Black cats and all. Bad luck.
I turn my attention to the girl. Don’t remember her name, don’t particularly care to. The smell in the apartment is like seven-day-old tuna sitting out in the sun. Is it from her pussy or is it just cat food stink?
“Give it to me hard,” she says. I grab her hair and start really going to town. My cock is ramming into her at the speed of light.
Come on, I tell myself, hurry up and do this. Finish.
She wants me to. “Come on my face,” she tells me.
“That was my plan. Great minds.”
“Great what’s?”
“You know that saying, great minds think alike?” I gasp.
She shakes her head. “More fucking, less talking.”
Christ, this chick isn’t screwing around.
The cat’s meowing strangely. I turn again. It’s a foot closer, looking at me and meowing. “Can we put Skittles in the bathroom or something?” I ask her.
“No, I can’t catch him.”
“He’s kind of freaking me out.”
“Ignore him. Just finish up.”
“Okay.” Back to work. I’m doing the jackhammer technique, which is sort of counterproductive. I’m actually not feeling much of anything now. Too much friction for too long causes
© 2012, All rights reserved.
I don’t really give a shit about people.
I’ve learned that it’s easier to just go through life doing what works for me.
Mostly that means fucking lots of chicks—the dumber and uglier they are, the easier it seems to be.
Easy. That’s how I like things.
I work an easy job. I work at a parking garage downtown, which is a pretty good place to take a nap when business is slow, and an even better place to score with dumb drunk sluts who are picking up their car after a night of clubbing.
Take this chick for example, the one I’m banging right now. I met her on the job just about an hour ago, and here I am back at her tiny little studio apartment, balls deep inside of her.
“You like it doggie style, hon?” I ask, as my testicles smash up against the underside of her pussy.
She nods noncommittally.
Whatever. I thought she might dig a little dirty talk but no skin off my nose. I’m going to nut soon either way.
Suddenly there’s a dark flash buzzing by me. I catch it out of the corner of my eye and it makes me jump. My dick pops out and some of her juices splash onto my stomach. “Fuck was that?” I say.
She looks over her shoulder at me. Her forehead crinkles. “You mean Skittles?”
“It wasn’t a bag of candy, babe. It’s something else.”
“No, that’s Skittles,” she giggles, pointing at the top of her refrigerator. Now I see it: a jet-black cat glaring at me with those dumb yellow cat eyes. Its tail is flicking angrily back and forth.
“I don’t think he likes me.”
“He’s very territorial,” she grins, sticks her ass up in the air. “Just ignore him.”
“Okey Dokey.” I’m used to cats. I should have known she’d have one; every damn single chick in the city has at least one cat, if not two or three.
Unfortunately I’m allergic, so now I really need to jizz in this pig’s face and get the heck out of this shit pit.
When I slip my cock back inside her hair pie, she’s sopping wet like a bowl of Cream of Wheat. She moans and pushes against me. “Fuck, yes. That’s it,” she gasps.
Now she’s into it. Maybe it’s voyeurism; she kind of digs being watched, even if the watcher is just a dumb old housecat. I decide to play along. “Skittles is pissed off,” I tell her.
She moans again and rocks quickly back and forth as I slam into her ass cheeks.
The cat jumps down from the fridge and starts running around the little room like it’s just eaten a pound of catnip.
“Don’t stop,” she says.
“He’s about to attack.”
“No. He almost never bites. I promise. Keep doing me right there.”
I look over my shoulder. The cat is only a few feet away, staring for the moment.
He’s actually kind of creeping me out, now, for real. Maybe I should stop joking about it. Black cats and all. Bad luck.
I turn my attention to the girl. Don’t remember her name, don’t particularly care to. The smell in the apartment is like seven-day-old tuna sitting out in the sun. Is it from her pussy or is it just cat food stink?
“Give it to me hard,” she says. I grab her hair and start really going to town. My cock is ramming into her at the speed of light.
Come on, I tell myself, hurry up and do this. Finish.
She wants me to. “Come on my face,” she tells me.
“That was my plan. Great minds.”
“Great what’s?”
“You know that saying, great minds think alike?” I gasp.
She shakes her head. “More fucking, less talking.”
Christ, this chick isn’t screwing around.
The cat’s meowing strangely. I turn again. It’s a foot closer, looking at me and meowing. “Can we put Skittles in the bathroom or something?” I ask her.
“No, I can’t catch him.”
“He’s kind of freaking me out.”
“Ignore him. Just finish up.”
“Okay.” Back to work. I’m doing the jackhammer technique, which is sort of counterproductive. I’m actually not feeling much of anything now. Too much friction for too long causes
Similar Books
