"Up! Get it up!"
"Jesus, Mitch, I'm tryin' like hell!" grumbled Randy as he tried again to hoist the monsterous oak bar with his shoulder. Rivulets of sweat popped from his brow and ran profusely down the jagged angles of his unshaven face as he worked; the hardwood monstrosity wasn't rising much at all considering his effort. He relaxed a moment, then grimaced and pushed like a possessed demon giving birth to something big as a rhino. "They don't build bars like this anymore, that's for sure."
At Randy's feet Mitch had been trying to slide the six by six under without much luck. Now it was less than a half inch from fitting. "C'mon, up just a smidge," he goaded.
Randy grimaced and gave it a last, monster shove, his body vibrating with exertion. As soon as he felt the block scrape the underside of the platform he dropped his spent shoulder gratefully. The bar held in the air for a sec and then, with a sound of splintering let go, shuddering a bit before hitting what Randy hoped was the floor. He waited a sec for word from Mitch then decided to go ahead and ask, "You, um, ok big guy?"
An answer wasn't immediately forthcoming. But then again he hadn't heard any yelp of pain either. Randy couldn't bring himself look down where his friend lay motionless, no matter how guilty he may have felt over his possible fate.
Finally Mitch crawled wearily out from under the overhang, rocked back, and sat his big butt flat on the dusty shag. "We just about had it. Why'd you have to let it go like that?"
"Sorry, it was more than I could handle. Sucker's heavy." Then in a moment of sheer lunacy he whacked the ball into Mitch's court, "Why don't you try?"
Mitch rolled back until his collarbone rested against the battered front panel of the bar and rubbed his chin, signaling he was giving the proposition grave consideration. When the proper amount of time had passed he pronounced his decision, "Cuz you're the big, strappin' young hunk. You'll try again. And this time ya ain't gonna let that thing down till I tell ya to, capeesh?
"Yeah, boss," Randy said, wiping the sweat off his ruddy brow." Now remind me again what we're doin' this for?"
"You know. It's Nancy. She's gonna start bein' curious about booze and stuff. No way I'm gonna encourage her to even take a sniff of a drink from this bar."
Randy rolled his eyes. Nancy made him horny, a fact that, when recalled, had the effect of reddening his face considerable every damn time. Yep, Nancy--young, big-eyed, curious, long legged, clear skinned, smelling of soap and smoldering with innocence Nancy, the virginal daughter of big Mitch--turned him on mightily. He felt a pressure in his pants and got even redder. Jailbait. He shouldn't be having these kinds of thoughts.
"You, um, sure you can keep her innocent by raising the bar so she can't see or touch the drinks? Seems kinda..." he was going to say "misguided" but stopped himself just in time, "...like it'd be easier to just lock the door like you did the liquor cabinet. You know?"
Mitch shook his head. "Right in here's where we watch the TV. Family room--it's where families hang. You should get one--a family I mean--then you'd be able to figure this out. Fact is, I don't want her askin' to carry the drinks so maybe she'd be tempted to sip on a highball or something. It's a father's job to put barriers in."
"If it's the devil's work--temptation I mean--then wouldn't it be God's job to maybe help out on the other end?" argued Randy. He was thinking more of the budding breasts God created on the young subject of this conversation than on theology of course.
"God has nothing to do with it. A father has to protect. And he has to set an example. When you grow up and get you a wife you'll understand."
Randy contemplated the prospect of taking a wife but not for long. Such thoughts usually occasioned his body to contort into spastic jerks and shivers and now was just such an occasion. Sure, he had nothin' but sex on the noggin, but what could be better? Annie with her fat, butterball breasts and tiny waist, Silvia the scarlet cheeked work-out queen with the washboard abs and the fold-up sex couch, and Darleen....
"Oh, shit," Randy said without provocation or knowledge of what he'd say next. Darleen was awaiting an answer. The question was almost too much to contemplate right now.
"What are you 'oh, shitting' about, Randall?" Mitch asked in his fatherly way.
"Nuthin. Well--damn--ok it's Darleen," he sputtered.
"The babe of the moment? The tiny-titted love-queen?" Mitch taunted.
"But wait just a darn minute, you just think about that young ivory skin stretched taut over the sleek curves of that slender body, those fat lips waitin' to suck in your squirming tongue...or maybe your dick." Randy replied, his hands tracing wispy curves in the musty air.
"Not exactly a bad thought. Buy why you thinkin' those thoughts now? We got work."
"Hang on a minute, Mitch," said Randall, looking at the ground and scratching his toe around it like a mother hen looking for nodules of common sense. "See, it's like this. Darleen wants to do it with two guys. Says she thinks it'll take her to new heights."
"Something you yourself can't do? Ha! The chink in the lover's armor is finally exposed!" Mitch guffawed.
"It was delivered as something like a--what you call it?--an ultimatum. That's it. She was gonna take that delicious nookie away from me on account of she wants to have two cocks on her plate at the same time," said Randy.
"Time you started looking around, huh?"
"But this is Darleen! She's goddam perfect. Youthful. Not a discolored bump on her skin. You can't get to thirty and be bombarded with all the poison shit in this atmosphere of ours and have that kind of skin. Then there's those tiny tits that burrow into your chest like little rockets. You should see her nipples. Deep, angry red when you get to nibbling them. She likes it sorta hard--like she wants me to bite right into them sometimes. Scares me how hard she might want it done."
"You ain't gettin' hard yourself, are you?" asked Mitch who was staring right into Randy's crotch like it didn't bother him one bit.
"What kinda question is that? Fact is, she's got herself all wadded up inside my head. Every time I close my eyes my cock is sinking into her shaved pussy and she's got them long legs wrapped around me like she's a clamp and I'm a leaky pipe. And that pussy's like wet velvet. I mean bein' inside there's got to make you think you're gonna spit out your load in a few seconds...."
"So why you tellin' me this?" asked Mitch a little more gruffly than Randy expected.
"Well, I don't want to go out on the street and pick up some stud she might feel, um, uncomfortable with if you know what I mean."
"Well, I'm askin'. Will you be the one?" Randy said, suddenly reddening from the realization that it sounded like he'd just asked for Mitch's hand in marriage.
Mitch scrambled to his feet and leaned into his buddy's wiry body. The two stood eye-to-eye for a moment, held apart only by Mitch's considerable paunch. Then Mitch's eyes started to widen and all that was left was for him to speak to Randy in that demeaning tone he sometimes used when he'd gotten the upper hand--which was most of the time. "You want me to fuck this young chicky so you don't have to go out and get a real stud, is that right?"
Randy gulped, his Adam's apple jiggling repeatedly like a comic strip character who's just swallowed a live animal. "Nah, what are you thinking? I've seen it. It's big. She'll go nuts over it."
"You talkin' bout my penis?" Mitch said, pointing a fat index finger at Randy's nose. "My cock, my love-muscle?"
Randy's chest heaved but he couldn't hold his mirth in check now any more than he could his desire for pussy most days. He burst out laughing. "Love-muscle?"
Mitch responded with a scowl softened by the start of a smile creeping across his fat, cracked lips. "Read that in a magazine somewheres," he replied sheepishly.
"One of them you got under the bed that Nancy's probably already found out about?"
"You been checkin' for dust bunnies in a place you're not supposed to be in?" said Mitch angrily.
"Nah. Lucky guess." replied Randy. Mitch's eyes shot a few arrows and then he turned and kicked the six by six.
"You want a stud. I'll show you a stud," said Mitch. "Let's call it a day."
Darleen was indeed a picture of beauty: skin like honeyed peaches, a button nose, a wide mouth with lips that offered an infinity of angles and possibilities. Mitch liked the longish blonde bangs that flopped against her wide forehead and ended just over her eyes. He was a little uncomfortable over the braids however.
"She's darn young. Looks 15," he whispered to Randy.
"Yeah, she's in her cheerleader stage. Really she's older. Second time we screwed in the Buick I asked for her driver's license."
"I wanted her bad. And I wanted not to go to jail...pretty much in that order," Randy whispered back while Darleen primped by drawing a slender finger across her forehead to brush her bangs out of the translucent lids over her baby blues.
"You fellas ready?" she blushed. Her hands smoothed the tight pleated skirt against the rather wide hips that capped the pair of slender thighs. There was a delicious space between them that needed to be filled no doubt...
Mitch looked at Randy, expecting him to take charge. Meanwhile Darleen had brushed her palms over her nipples until they tented the translucent whiteness of her blouse like two cherries topping tiny mounds of melting French vanilla. Randy stared with his mouth agape. They got him ever time.
"Ya know, I got soooo wet this morning while I was thinking of you two. Randy said you were a big, strong man with a whopper, and I couldn't help think of just how big that might be. Honest, I couldn't help playing with myself. I mean, even in traffic I had my little hand down there rubbing away. Betcha can't guess what made me come."
Mitch hadn't a clue, but his cock poked, twisted, and otherwise corkscrewed to find a wide spot in the tent. Dewy beads of sweat had begun to pop out on his forehead. She was looking at him intently and he looked back, scanning the delicious contours of her face. He could imagine her drawing a popsickle slowly from the ruby confines of her lips....
Darleen knew a opening when it appeared, and she lost no time skipping on over to Mitch and drawing a finger over his bundled cock. "I was getting my twat all gooey thinking of this," she pointed out dramatically, "going in here," motioning the target area by drawing up the pleated skirt and showing him pay dirt, making sure he know exactly where it was by plowing a finger through the already lubricated valley and offering the shimmering digit to his nose.
Mitch took a deep breath. There was no getting around it; his cock hurt now. He had to get it out of there.
"I think the bag boy at the super smelled sex on me. Honest to God. He kept looking at my butt like maybe I leaked or something and it showed. So I made him take the little bag of groceries out to the car and I told him if he'd put them in the trunk I'd tip him. So I sit in the driver's seat, one foot inside, flat on the floorboard and one foot stretched way out toward the back of my car--and golly, did that boy look startled when he came around and saw my cunt all unfurled and lookin' back at him."
Mitch had his hand inside his pants through all this and by the time Darleen started to shimmy out of the skirt finally got his cock straightened out. Darleen was all smiles when she saw just a glimpse of it through the open zipper, proudly standing almost belt height in front of him (like a buttress for his paunch, but still...)
"That is a mighty fine pole you got there, mister," she said as she started on the buttons of her blouse. "I think you'll do just fine doggy style."
Mitch was almost offended. He was a little conscientious about his less-than-perfect body and now he had to contend with the fact that she was after his cock and that was about it. Why was he disappointed? He turned to look at Randy, who had stripped to his socks and was nervously looking around the room. He seemed oddly lost.
"Randy, babe, come on over here you silly!" whimpered the nude and pale princess, a pinkish-white glow emanating from her wispy body. "I'm soooo hungry. Know what I want to eat?"
Randy knew of course. He inched his way in front of her until she could bend down and slurp up the end of his half-erect cock. Half-erect because he had caught his friend Mitch dropping his drawers in the background, and the site of the big cock bouncing and bobbing unhindered make him feel--well--odd. He wanted to look away but couldn't, even as Doreen's smooth-as-silk lips slid down his stiffening cock until that little button nose was buried in the ruddy tangle of pubic hair that ringed it.
But that wasn't the last trick Doreen would pull. Sucking hard enough to crater her cheeks while withdrawing her puckered lips under suction, she released Randy's cock with an embarrassing "pop." Embarrassing to Randy, that is.
"Hon," she asked her beau through well-exercised lips, her eyes all dewy, "I have an idea that just about made me wet my...well, wet the carpet I guess. I'm eyeing your friend over there, with his cock all unbundled and his balls just about even with the table top. What say we all go over and welcome Mr. Mitch by baptizing his monster dick inside my dripping pussy while I stretch out on the table?"
Then she hopped and skipped over to the kitchen table, bent at the waist and laid herself across the slick Formica. Gripping the edge of the table, she used her hands to inch herself forward until the cute little globes of her ass lined up with the edge. She looked back and spread her legs for the startled Mitch, egging him on by gripping one of the globes and spreading herself farther. "Oh, my, the cold on my nipples is driving me crazy. I gotta have a hot cock inside or I'm going to go nuts!"
Mitch, however, stood motionless, mesmerized by the moist, orangy-pink lips that had been slowly peeled back for him, revealing their moist red center like one of those time lapse movies of a beautiful flower coming into bloom, so he didn't rush to slam his cock into her. It'd been a long time since he was with a woman so cute and demanding at the same time. Still, he couldn't delay it any longer. His cock throbbed with desire; he inched it toward her as if he were pushing an implement in front of him that wasn't exactly part of him. Slowly it contacted the soft, plush folds of her pussy and the connection came back. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the moist folds of her pussy collapsing around the shaft of his cock. Could heaven be better than this?
Doreen broke his little communion with nature by moaning. It was a muffled one because she had her lips clamped around Randy's cock again.
Mitch inched forward slowly, feeling the dripping pussy wrap itself tightly around him and massaging one by one every nerve ending along the long stretch of organ slowly tunneling into her. She reached a hand around to touch his belly, then pulled not all that gently on a clump of hair around his navel leaving no doubt about it, she wanted it deep and hard. Naughty girl-woman! He'd make her beg. That'd be the ticket.
Mitch pulled back until the cock just slipped from her juicy folds, then slowly inserted the head of it back in. He reached down to cradle his cock for the next assault and began to twirl it in circles; he liked hearing the sucking and gurgling noises her cunt made, like it was trying to suck his cock all the way in but couldn't. When he looked up he saw her head start bouncing on Randy's cock with a fury, both hands behind her now, fingers undulating just over the thick pelt of hair that covered his belly, reaching out futilely for what he wasn't letting her have, not fully and not yet anyway.
He inserted his cock just deep enough so the tips of her fingers could brush against his gut. That seemed to start her flopping on the table, her head bouncing hard on the cock in her mouth and the recoil sending an undulating wave through the slender body, ending with that cute little ass bouncing off the table and sending the cunt circling his cock, bending it ever so slightly until the tiny bit of pain was offset by an explosion of sensation, his cock responding by twitching a bit on its own. She did this again and again. When Mitch looked up Randy had his head toward the ceiling and his eyes clamped shut. He was trying to hang on. "Poor guy," thought Mitch.
That's when he took action, suddenly slamming into Doreen and sending the table bouncing toward Randy. He needed something to hold on to and found it in Doreen's twin braids. He pummeled her hard, the table creaking with every thrust. When he heard Randy groan like he'd been hit in the gut with a 2x4 he tugged gently but firmly, reining in the braids until Doreen's mouth was pulled off Randy's cock, and together they watched the fountain of Randy's spunk shoot upward again and again.
Doreen, free to speak her mind now that her mouth was free, started yelling "harder" in a particularly breathy way that told him he'd better comply. This was war--her command against his resolve to take control. Neither, of course, would win.
Mitch transferred the braids to his right hand so he could slap her butt with the other. "Yes! Oh, harder please!" wafted to his startled ears. He'd never done this before and couldn't fathom the sexual utility of it, but that it turned them both on was undeniable fact. She'd somehow managed to wrap her slender thighs around him and he could feel them squeeze his midsection rhythmically, and he could even feel her feet bounce against his back every once in a while just after he'd bottomed. Despite being urged like a racehorse, he still found he could concentrate on the smells wafting up from their coupling and the squishy noises her cunt made as he continued to smash himself into her.
Once his senses had hit the overload stage he yanked her braids with slightly more fury. The horse was in the other stirrup, so to speak. And the young filly responded; between her gritted teeth she cried "Yes!" over and over, squeezing him tighter and tighter with each bottoming of his thick cock. He pulled her head high enough off the table so that Randy could kiss her without bending over while her pelvis was pinned to the table by Mitch's cock, her taut belly straining into ropey bundles of muscle as he pulled on the braids. "Yes," she said, a little softer now as she felt his pulsating cock launch his load into her, the brush of his ball-sack against her clit sending her over the edge, her body spasming, her cunt gripping him and holding on while he pumped the spent fluids of his lust into her. He'd never felt anything so good.
When it was all over she sighed wistfully and he let her head down slowly and gently. When a pink cheek touched the cool Formica he released her braids and ran his fingers lightly over the graceful curve of her back. At that moment he felt lots of competing feelings: love, rage, tenderness, fury--but they'd go away soon he hoped. Who'd want to deal with all those complex things? He withdrew from her slowly, the last little spurt leaving a little comma in white on the table as his cock bumped against the cold edge. While backing away he noticed her breathing, her slender body rising and falling in a rhythm that he could almost understand. He couldn't resist drawing a hand once again over the soft undulations of her body, down the wide valley of the small of her back, across the ravaged globes of her buttocks and down between her moist thighs.
Then Mitch backed away and shook the cobwebs out of his head. He looked around the room, seeing it for the first time--the soiled and tattered wallpaper, the sofa with the broken leg--and Randy sitting on a stool, his cock dangling woefully.
"Let's go. We don't gotta pay her or nothing do we Randy? And tomorrow we need to get on that bar thing. Think six inches will be enough? I'm thinking we need it higher."
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