Pout Erotica

Bringing my erotica to you...

Saturday, September 10, 2005

More Milestones!

I received word that my story "Triango" was just bought by--drumroll please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A large publishing house! The pay is significantly more than Hustler too. I'm got more stuff rattling around in my head so wish me more successes in the future.

Peace out!

For erotic bliss, read Small Packages by Sydney Molare'
www.sydneymolare.com

Monday, September 05, 2005

Twisted Trade




Twisted Trade


You ever been fucked over then fucked…deliciously?
That’s what happened to me. Shit, one minute I’m madder than a wet hen, the next I’m left throbbing, wanting some more. Sounds wild I know, but let me start at the beginning…


A week ago, Sam left me a fuck off note. Couldn’t just knock on the door and tell me in person. Instead, there it was, white ass pristine, sitting under my windshield wipers as I left for work. The note said—and I paraphrase—there was a new person on the scene that’d made cocks jump, pussies snap…and Sam wanted them.

Now a few months ago, I would have brushed it off; said good riddance. Even last week it wouldn’t have been so bad except we were supposed to repeat our ‘till death do us part’ vows in a two weeks; beat the Supreme Court case and all. Guess y’all know that’s shot to hell now.
Yeah, we’d had our problems and walking away was always an option, but we had history. So we patched things up and I thought everything was fine. Thus, my reaction after reading the note: I howled like a banshee, went back inside and kicked a goddamn hole in the wall. I broke chairs, turned over the table and ripped Sam’s left behind clothing to shreds. I was past mad—deranged. I called and called and called with no answer. When the crazed haze lessened its hold on my brain, determination replaced it. I would get my best friend/confidant/lover back…by any means necessary.
I broke the knob on Sam’s apartment door. Amy, Sam’s poodle—AKA fake ass excuse for a real dog—wrapped around my legs as I entered. I booted her aside, stepped over dog crap and held my nose against the poop and urine funk as I studied the blue Day Planner. Nothing. I rifled through drawers, flipped cushions and pulled boxes from the top of the closet. Not one damn thing.
Inspiration struck.
I upturned the stinking garbage on the kitchen floor. Amy immediately latched onto an old chicken bone while I pushed and separated the smoldering mess—bills, uneaten food, plastic wrappers…but no lead. Damn.
It was when Amy snuffled closer and I slapped the offensive pseudo-canine on the nose—which then made her yelp and bar her teeth—that I fell onto the refrigerator and the flyer floated to the floor. It had been circled with a black marker and the red letters screamed:


Styk Cat
July 30
The Yowl
(If you don’t know where,
You don’t need to cum…)


A slow burn simmered in my head as I read and reread the flyer. Styk Cat was the latest techno-trance-pop-rock sensation. I’d describe…it as a cross between Marilyn Manson and Lenny Kratvitz. In short—FUBAR. Sam had mentioned wanting to see the man/woman if he/she came to the area. I’d gone ballistic; berated and ridiculed the breast implanted, dick swinging It unmercifully. There was no doubt where I stood…yet there must have been because the message on the flyer had been circled numerous times, doodled around the edges even, so Sam must plan to be there. I’d never heard of The Yowl, but if my semi-adulterous lover thought I wouldn’t find out, I was definitely underestimated.
I stomped to the door, kicked Amy for good measure before high-tailing it out. Finding The Yowl was the only thing on my mind.

*********

I searched high and low for days, missed work as I traced then retraced my steps looking for any clues. Sam hadn’t been to the office and hadn’t been home as evidenced by Amy’s pitiful yips and mounting piles of dog crap each time I returned. Nobody I encountered on the busy streets had heard of The Yowl. I tried the police. Well, fuck you too. I knew then I had to go to the deeply perverted, semi-depraved masses—The Pink Light District.
I chose The Pussy Palace since it was the biggest joint on the strip. G-stringed women grinded on poles as johns stuffed wads of hard-earned cash between shaved cunt lips. I stood taller, pushed my way to the bar and ordered a drink. As the bartender slid it over, I said, “Ever heard of The Yowl?” His eyes became wary, mug granite—the ex-con reaction. I told him it was personal. He loosened his sphincter; kinda knew… but then again didn’t. He flicked a nervous glance at the other patrons then leaned forward—scrubbing an imaginary spot—and grunted one word: Cockflip. He then straightened and wiped down the bar; avoided my eyes. I got the message.
Now this Cockflip I had heard about. If you were looking for strange trade, Cockflip was the place for you. It was renowned for its signature wild orgies—male, female and blurred. My burn became a sizzle.
I found it one block over. The line snaked around the building and I sneered. Goths, punk heads, midgets and tattooed oddities of every nationality waited in line. A Styk Cat crowd all right. Uh uh.
I walked by the door, heard a multi-pierced drag queen say “The Yowl” before being allowed to enter. So it was a password. I was at the right place.
I’d watched enough movies to know how it was done. I found the alley side door, waited until somebody exited and sneaked inside. I was in a dressing room of some sorts. Girlie-girlie shit hung on racks spotlighted by the 10-bulb mirrors behind them.
Voices. I flung open a nearby door and almost catapulted down steep steps. The voices eventually receded but…the door refused to budge. I’d broken the cardinal rule of sneaking into unfamiliar rooms: Never completely close the damn door. That sucker was locked tight as a celestial virgin. Fuck!
Other sounds floated up to me. Moans. Metal clanks. Smacks! Hums. Curiosity was going to have to kill this cat! I felt Dungeon-and-Dragonish as I started slowly into the belly of this unknown beast. Two flights down I saw light and crept silently closer as the sounds neared. Machinery hummed, the moans amplified then…laughter. My nostrils flared. I knew that laugh!
I reached for the metal bar to lean downward for look when—Bzzzt!

**********

I woke floating, literally. I opened my eyes to complete darkness yet, I felt heat on my face. I swayed as I moved my arms and realized...somebody had tied me up! Ditto with the legs. Shit! I didn’t do the bondage thing well—flashbacks of prison movie scenes flitted in my mind—and I wiggled my body, felt the straps beneath my back suspending me. Naked. I squirmed, rocked and twisted, not once thinking about how high up I might be or more importantly, what was beneath me if I fell.
A feather tickled my navel. I clenched on the hammock/shackle thing. It was stroked and swirled in and out, around then flicked up my chest. This was a favorite of mine and only Sam knew it. Steam built beneath my scalp.
I hadn’t uttered a single word when Sam hissed, “You couldn’t leave well enough alone,
could you?” from a distance.
I grunted, throat dry, then found my voice. “No,” I rasped, “You didn’t mean it.” Hell, I’d been real good to Sam.
“Oh, but I did and do. I—left—you.” Much attitude.
I imagined the neck popping and saw red. “For a bitch you don’t even know?” I scoffed. “Puh-le—” The pimp slap effectively silenced me.
“That’s Ms. Bitch,” a high pitched voice said in my ear. I couldn’t tell whether it was male or female but my sphincter tightened anyway.
“What the fuck do I have to do for you to understand I’m gone, out of your life, finisimo?” Sam was tripping hard, I was trussed up like a turkey, a person packing a damned good pimp slap was at my elbow…the lips stayed zipped. “Why the hell can’t you see that I’ve changed? Couldn’t you tell it from the way we fucked?”
Yeah, we were fucking like monkeys on meth but hell, when else in life do you fuck that much except before the marriage?
“You probably thought I was falling deeper in love,” Sam snorted. “I wasn’t. I was trying to avoid the inevitable; trying to will myself to ignore what I needed most.”
My ego bruised, I spat, “What the fuck was that?”
“We’ll show you,” the high voice said.
The blindfold was yanked off; I squinted in the dazzling light.
“Welcome to the Meow Room where cumming is my specialty!” the voice crowed.
My eyesight cleared; saw this thing requiring no introduction at my elbow—Styk Cat in the flesh. I recoiled; wriggled in my bindings as I stared at this freak of nature. The television didn’t do this thing justice. It was way worse in person. The mascaraed eyes, the over collagenized lips, the bushy afro, the humongous breasts with nipples pointing east and west. The whole set up screamed Freak Show attraction!
Sam was behind this thing. My toes curled, pisstivity evaporated as I drank in the sight of my statuesque bronzed queen—heavy breasts, long nipples, big ass, thick thighs. I looked from those luscious tits into her face, her I-could-kill-you-right-fucking-now scowling face and…the quirt being tapped on her temple. A Lucy Lui-gone-Pamela Sue Anderson woman whimpered spread eagle between two poles beside her.
I followed the arm holding the quirt, twisted my head until I could move no further as it disappeared into the shadows then reappeared with a vengeance as it brought the quirt down across Lucy’s ass.
Whack!
That shit caught me off-guard. I flinched; yelled “Whoa!” but ole Lucy’s reaction shocked the hell out of me: She moaned, eyes glassed over, ass lifted.
Whack!
Well hell, I was usually the Dom and Sam the Fem but if she wanted to trade places, try some new shit, all she had to do was ask. We didn’t have to go through all this.
Sam smiled as she pulled back for another blow. Lucy gyrated obscenely, moaned blissfully as Sam whacked and whacked and whacked away.
I hated to admit it, but that shit had me straight turned on! Then, Styk Cat began tickling me with that damn feather again. Try as I might, I couldn’t stop my own clit from jumping as the feather trailed from my nipples to my belly to my bush. Styk’s breasts jiggled against me, nipples burned a trail down my arm as the feather moved over me.
Sam threw the quirt down, twisted Lucy around—revealing her blistering red ass—and pressed her lips to her cheeks. I moaned as I saw her tongue trace fuck me notes in the skin.
“You like?” Styk Cat asked.
I ignored It; was ashamed of my body’s reaction to It’s feather dance. Styk threw back it’s head and laughed high and long.
Sam finger-fucked Lucy now. Lucy squirmed, yelled “Fuck me, goddammit, fuck me!” as she humped back on the fingers.
Juice pushed at my engorged lips. Styk Cat sniffed, moved lower on my body. Acrylic nails scratched lightly across my clit. I lurched, lifted in response. It smiled; spread my folds as the nails moved lower still. Oh hell.
Sam flipped Lucy back around, hooked arms under legs and melded her tongue to Lucy’s snatch. Lucy moaned, shrieked to the ceiling. Styk Cat pushed the tip of a finger in me. It was my turn to moan. Styk’s fingers probed, pushed, circled inside my pussy. The juice slid between my lips, down the back of my ass. Styk leaned closer, blew on my pubis. I swirled and gyrated on the fingers.
Sam’s head bobbed as she tongue-fucked Lucy. Styk unfurled a long ass pierced mouth dick between his lips and flicked it across my clit. I yowled from the sensation of the smooth ball. Hollered as teeth nipped my nub. Felt my body tremble as fingers fucked, lips sucked my sensitized flesh.
I was there, pushing towards climax when…Styk stopped. Just lifted it’s head and put a brake on the shit.
I was delirious! I squirmed with the need to be fucked, the need for something to take me over the edge into bliss. I heard Lucy scream loud and long, saw Sam bobbing furiously as Lucy bucked on her face. I wanted to be there, goddammit! Styk saw my reaction and laughed.
Sam left Lucy, body staggering, and made her way over to me. That’s it, baby! I tasted Lucy’s pussy as I pulled her tongue into my mouth; was frustrated as she broke the kiss, moved further down my body. She pushed a nipple between my lips. I suctioned it to the back of my throat like a baby searching for milk. Her teeth nipped at my nipples, searched for her own manna. My head twirled and bobbed as I pulsed on the tips; was rewarded with a musky fluid.
Styk Cat dragged her head from me. My protests were halted as I stared at the long, fat red dick he held in his hands. He smiled at me again. “Yes, I’m all man.” No doubt about that. The tits, manmade but that dick…Creator blessed. “Watch this,” he said as he pulled Sam’s head to his tits.
Sam put a nipple in each hand and pulled before she latched onto one. Her cheeks sucked inward; Styk moaned, pressed her head tighter to him as he stroked himself, hand moving rapidly across the tip and up and down the shaft.
My hands itched to stroke that dick, push my tongue in Sam’s pussy. I wiggled in the ties futilely. Styk saw, licked his lips and pushed Sam further down his body. She kissed his navel, pulled at his pubic hair, before gripping his dick and pushing it past her lips. Styk squatted slightly, clenched his ass and pushed forward. His dick’s imprint protruded at the side of her cheek.
Don’t ask me why the sight of my girl sucking a freak show’s dick turned me on, but goddammit, the shit just did!
I mewled in my need, pumped and gyrated into the air, my pussy begging for
something—a mouth, a finger…a dick. I didn’t care, I just needed fulfillment.
Styk read me; pulled Sam from his cock and to my pussy. Sam never hesitated, just slurped my cum rum; expertly gobbled my clit from years of practice.
Now this is what I’m talking about!
I humped back on her face, felt my nipples tighten more as she tongue fucked me, clit sucked me.
Styk stood behind Sam, cock in hand, and spread her legs. He wasted no time surging into my pussy. I couldn’t get mad if I’d wanted to, the way my nerve endings sizzled and crackled. Sam pushed back with relish, increased her tongue fucking tempo in response. She moaned deep in her throat, the vibrations rumbling into my cunt.
Styk slapped that ass! Sam moaned louder; sucked and fucked me faster. I bucked on her face. Styk pulled her long nipples; ground his pelvis into her pussy as I watched. I surprised myself by wanting that long ass dick up in me.
Styk leaned back, pistoned like well-oiled machinery into Sam’s pussy. Sam gyrated, titties flailed in the air, nipples bounced off my leg. Styk yelped, lurched, made a fuck face and surged into Sam. She threw her head back, howled then bit my clit. That set off the pin-pricks in my feet, zipped up my legs and to my pulsing button. I screamed with her as my pussy detonated; geysered her face with my juice. We all howled to the moon. A trinity of bliss…

I woke in my car, clothes half on me, as the sun rose in the sky. My muscles ached, wrists and ankles burned where the straps had been but damn…I’d do it all again tomorrow.
Sam had indeed moved on. I never saw her again…and my pussy leaked whenever Styk Cat’s name was mentioned.