"Treat me like a real whore."
From Create Your Own Story
“Yeah?” he says, "Good." You stand waiting for the last patrons to clear out, and then he takes only enough time to lock the front door of the bar before he turns back to you, and steps forward, planting a rough kiss on you and pushing you backwards into the main bar room.
He steers you through the main room, kissing you roughly and filling your mouth with his tongue, and grabbing at your ass. He comes up for air near the bar, and you press against his thick chest, panting from the possessiveness of his kisses.
He tugs at your jeans, and once again you shuck them, kicking off your shoes, and standing naked except for your socks in front of him. Your dick is hard, and he smiles. He pulls his black shirt over his head, revealing a muscular chest covered with dark curly hairs, and then undoes his belt with a flick of his wrist.
He steps out of his pants, his boxers tenting out in front of him, and then tugs them down as well. His dick is thick, veiny, and cut, with a round bulbous head already a dark purple.
He grips his heavy balls in one hand, and says, "Ready?"
You nod.
The massive man grins, and comes at you with both hands, gripping your ass and sliding one thick finger into you as he shoves you further into the bar. You walk backwards, barely keeping upright, until your ass bumps into one of the pool tables. With a quick shove, he lifts you onto the green felt surface, shoving you back so you’re sitting on the table’s surface, but your thighs are up on the rim.
He shoves you, and you fall backward, your legs rising into the air, where he catches one ankle. He reaches over and tugs a pool cue from the rack, and your eyes widen.
“Gotta get you ready for my meat, you little slut,” he says.
You move to sit back up, but he leans forward, pressing your own thigh against your stomach, and using his elbow to anchor your chest down. He smiles, face to face with you.
“Get ready, whore,” he says, and spits in your face.
He pushes the pool cue’s base into your ass with a quick jerk and you gurgle out a cry. The wood is cool and thick, and your back arches as you try to accommodate the cue.
“You like that, whore?” he snarls. “Tell me you like that!”
“I like it,” you manage, and he starts to rhythmically shove the cue in and out of your ass, fucking you with the long wooden shaft.
“Yeah, I thought so,” he says. “I saw you all night. You took anything and anyone, didn’t you? You’ll do anything for a cock up your ass, won’t you?” Each question ends with a thrust of the cue. His hairy chest scratches against your thighs.
“Yes!” you yell.
“Damn right,” he says, and yanks the cue out. You gasp with the suddenness of it, but then he straightens, and gripping your thigh with both hands, he rolls you onto your side and then shoves his thick meaty cock to the hilt up your battered and bruised hole. The angle is cruel, but you’re so hard you can’t believe it – and you hear yourself begging him to fuck your ass.
“That’s right, cunt,” he says, thrusting deep. “You take my cock.”
He slowly rolls you over completely as he fucks, aiming his dick at harder angles in your ass, and you yelp and squirm and swear as he plows you. By the time you’re on your stomach, he’s fucking you at a furious pace, and he bellows once, collapsing against your back when he cums. Your ass floods with his load, which spurts around his thick dick and slides down your thighs. You feel your own release hit a moment later, spreading beneath you onto the green felt of the pool table.
You both lie there for what seems like a long while, and then he slides off and out of you with a slick sound. He stands, and you struggle to roll over. He tugs you off the table, and you stand there, ass aching and sore, your head light and dizzy.
He walks away and starts to dress, and you follow him dazedly, finding your own jeans and shoes. When you pull them on, you turn to see him looking at you. He flicks a five dollar bill at you, which lands at your feet.
“Here you go, whore,” he says.
You bend down and pick it up. He laughs.
“See you next Friday,” he says, and goes to unlock the bar door.
(The End - please send feedback to barratboy@yahoo.ca)
