Saturday, October 24, 2009

Visiting Rachel

It had been a long time since I'd been with Rachel. Used to be, me and Fred would hang out with her all the time, since we all loved drinking and fucking, and it was a wonderful relationship. But then she started getting serious with what's his name, Jerome, and she told us to get lost. Hey, no biggie. There's a world full of pussy out there, and the great thing about Rachel is that she doesn't jerk you around. She might jerk you off while she crams an electric eel up your ass, but she won't jerk you around.

So, when she called to tell me that Jerome left, she made it damn clear what she wanted, and I figured I owed her one after that mess Fred and I made at the candy factory. So, after that high school fuck party started winding down (I think I came the same time as big Juliet -- which isn't a surprise, I've been practicing), I drove over to Rachel's.

When I got there, I brought a bottle of vodka in with me. That girl likes vodka. I didn't ring the bell, because I know what she likes when she's depressed. I just kicked the door open, slammed it and locked it behind me, and marched into the living room. She was slumped on the couch, watching some daytime TV bullshit. She barely looked up. "Hey, Lambert." "Shut up, bitch," I said, "I'm here to fuck you."

She got irritated. "Damn it, Lambert, lay off!" Ha. I knew better. We've played this game too many times. I took a swig of the vodka, and spit some of it on her, then bent down and slapped her face. "That's no way to talk to the one with the cock," I said. "I suggest you shut up and get ready to blow me." She jumped up, and swept my feet out from under me, so I landed on the floor, hard. Then she straddled my chest, and slapped me hard. "You fucker!" she shouted. You don't know what the hell I've been through! You don't know what that bastard did to me!" She looked really mad. But I know how Rachel works. This is how she takes out her aggression. "Did he fuck you up the ass? Because that's what I'm going to do!" and I spit in her face. She slapped me, and slapped me again, and then kissed me, violently, writhing against me. "Quit that," I said, unzipping my pants, "and suck on this." And she did. God damn, that girl gives a good blow job when she's mad. Fortunately, I could still reach the vodka, so while she worked my cock, I took a pull at the bottle. I let her go a minute or two more. She kept angrily slapping my ass and thighs while she worked it, and some times did nasty things with her teeth. She also liked to flick my balls with her fingers, hard. Usually, I took that as a cue. I stood up, and she didn't break suction with my cock at all. I grabbed her hair, and pulled her head back. I could see that she was crying. "Oh, boo hoo," I said, "You want to cry, oh, you're gonna cry. Get those clothes off." "Fuck you!" she shouted. "No, bitch, fuck you. Take off those clothes." She glared at me, and peeled off her yellow T-shirt. She didn't bother much with a bra. Her amazing rack was in full view, with that awesome rainbow dragon tattoo that went from her shoulder and wrapped all around her right breast. She kicked off her jeans, and as soon as she had one leg out, I grabbed the jeans, and pulled them so she fell on all fours, and I pounced on top of her, and spitting on my cock, rammed it into her asshole. Normally, that wouldn't be enough lube to do the job, but I had just gotten done fucking little juliet not 20 minutes ago, so I still had a fresh coating of Rachel's special lube. She roared with anger, and kept trying to hit me, and I just kept ass-raping her. "You bastard!" she shouted! "You mother fucking bastard! I hate you! I fucking hate you!" I could see it really hurt her, by her white knuckled grip on the carpet, and the way she kept flexing her feet. But I just kept reaming away. She started screaming, and crying and pounding the floor. She either didn't have neighbors in this apartment, or they were deaf. I always wondered, but no one ever said anything. Damn, I missed fucking Rachel. I was so happy to be holding those hips again, and smelling her hair. She kept punching me in the leg, and trying to reach back to claw at my balls. As I pounded that tight ass, she started screaming in rhythm. "You... fucking... bastard... fucking... men... are... all... alike... you... FUCKING... BASTARD!" She was really crying now, violently and out of control, her sobs tightened her ass, which gave me intense bursts of pleasure, but I knew that when she stopped fighting that I should slow down, so I did. She was crying so intensely, that I started to pull out, when suddenly her asshole tightened around my cock like an anaconda... "don't.... you... dare..." she growled, and she meant it.

"Well, well, well... what do we have here?" It was Fred. With all the screaming and pounding, neither of us heard him come in. "Looks like some kind of slut that needs fucking." He dropped his pants, and started smacking her face with his cock, "Huh, bitch? Isn't that right? You want this, don't you?" Without a word, she started sucking on Fred's cock, while I continued a rhythmic fucking of her ass. Fred and I settled into our familiar rhythm, and he winked at me. She kept sucking his cock, and he slapped her. "Do it better, bitch." She started deep throating him, and making horrifying guttural noises, like she was going to choke. This went on for a while. Finally, Fred pulled his cock out of her mouth, and took a pull on the vodka bottle. He put his foot under her chest, and lifted her up, and back onto me. I was leaning back against the couch now, and still fucking her ass. She leaned back, putting her weight on me, but had her knees up, and legs spread, so that Fred got a good look at that sweet pussy. "Would you look at that," he said. "The cunt of a filthy slut." He poured vodka down onto our faces, and we opened our mouths to drink it. The cold vodka ran down her face, and he spashed some onto her tits, the cold sting making her nipples even more tightly erect. He took one more big swig from the bottle, got down on his knees, and then slid his cock into her. She gasped as he did it, and I could feel Fred's cock slide in on the other side of her vaginal wall. Fred and I both started to pump madly into her. Rachel was done crying now, and just had her eyes closed and mouth open, overwhelmed by pleasure, pain, and the pressure of the two of us squeezing against her. She wrapped her arms around Fred, fucking him for all she was worth, while I kept on pumping, pumping, pumping into her ass. Soon she was moaning, and we started hammering her faster and faster, until she started to let out sharp little screams sounding like "aa! aa! aa! aa!" We'd done this enough times to know what was next. We all worked and adjusted our timings so that the three of us came at the same time -- her squeezing both of us with all her might, and both of us spurting come into her as deeply as we could manage.

Fred leaned back, sweaty and exhausted. I pulled my cock out of Rachel, and she slumped on the floor and cried some more. Little sobs now, like a sad little kitten. Then, she got up, whirled around and punched me in the jaw, and then punched Fred in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Then she sat her naked ass on a folding chair by the table, leaking come all down her legs, and took a long swig from the vodka bottle. "Shit," she said, "it's good to have friends that understand you."

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