About an hour after I went to bed for the night, I was awakened by the harsh glare of the ceiling light that’d suddenly been snapped on.
“We’re here for some more fun. Let the party begin…..â€
I groaned as I got up; Romeo again, drunk, this time with two red-headed women he‘d gotten from only God knows where, one tall, one short, one with big ones, one with regular-sized ones, both thin.
No need to cover myself, as this wasn’t respectable company that might be offended.
“Oh my,†said the short red-head with the big ones; “isn’t he so nice, and so clean?â€
“I like clean men,†purred the tall red-head with the regular-sized ones.
“What’s up?†I asked, to get some sort of conversation going.
“We came to party,†Romeo said; “let’s go out on the back porch, toke a few, have some fun.â€
- - - - - - - - - -
We filed out of the bedroom, through the kitchen, and out to the back porch. It of course was dark, but it being mid-summer, warm. I turned on one porch light, which illuminated slightly; if I turned them all on, we‘d be plagued by flying insects.
Romeo lit up a joint, offering me as host the first puff, but I demurred, instead taking out a regular cigarette and lighting that. I was encouraged that as they smoked, they began disrobing, because one’s uncomfortable being the only naked person in a group.
After a couple of joints, Romeo suggested something to drink would be nice.
I’ll go out to the garage and get some beer, I said. I don’t drink, but there’s three ancient refrigerators there, where the neighbor and his older brother, the property caretaker, and the ranch-hands who work across the road keep a stock of liquid refreshments.
The short red-head with the big ones followed me. She’d taken off her top and her shoes, but still had on a pair of really tight cut-offs.
She unexpectedly fondled me down on the lower back when I leaned over to pull out a twelve-pack, causing me to straighten up with a start.
“That’s a nice ass,†she said; “do gay men ever come on to you?â€
I looked at her with the glazed stare of a man who’s just been shot in the stomach.
“Well, I’ll bet if you showed it off, they’d come on to you.â€
I broke out in a cold sweat, visibly.
“Oh, don’t be thinking of that at all,†she said. “But don’t be such a prude either.â€
To assure myself though, I unbuttoned her cut-offs and pulled them down, which she allowed me to do without resistance. There was nothing there but the usual-and-standard female anatomy, so I breathed more easily and yanked them back up, although they were so tight on her I fumbled with re-buttoning them.
Compressed against each other, we sucked face for a bit, until she grabbed one of her big ones, wiggle-waggling it at me, wordlessly suggesting I “do something†with it.
“Let’s go join the others,†I said. “They’re impatient for the beer.â€
- - - - - - - - - -
“This guy doesn’t like them†she announced when we reached the back porch. “Is something wrong with him?â€
Romeo was on a chair, the tall red-head with the regular-sized ones on his lap, and reluctantly pushed her away.
“Well, okay then, let’s trade,†he said, standing up.
The three of them had a whispered discussion, glancing my way as they smoked another joint.
“Well, maybe he’s queer,†said the short red-head. “I’ve never seen a man who didn’t like my big ones.â€
“How about if you two guys went at it, and we got to watch?†the tall red-head asked; “it’d be a real turn-on, seeing what guys do with each other.â€
My hair stood on end, especially since Romeo’s didn’t.
The tall red-head came over to stand behind me, where I was sitting on the edge of the
chaise longue, and gently taking my head, placed the back of it against in between her two regularly-sized ones.
- - - - - - - - - -
The short red-head sat on the floor of the porch, idly handling a soccer ball she’d seen underneath the table. The tall red-head had pulled me back into a laying position and was hovering over me, trying to tickle my nose with her regular-sized ones.
“Let’s play a game,†the short red-head suggested.
“Girls against boys, and losers have to do what the winners want.â€
“But there’s only four of us,†I said, nervous about what she‘d want if her side won; “four people can’t play soccer.â€
“Four’s enough,†she said; “we can improvise.â€
I pointed out it was pretty dark; after all, it almost 3:00 a.m.
“Well, you could turn on
all the lights, and we could play near the edge of the porch. Girls against boys, and losers have to do what the winners want.â€
“But still, it’s dark enough we won’t be able to tell each other apart,†I protested. “Usually teams have uniforms.â€
“Oh, that’s okay,†the tall red-head said; “you guys can wear our shirts and we’ll wear our cut-offs.
I looked over at Romeo, who was hunched down in a chair opposite, dreamily gazing at a half-smoked joint.
For the first time, I noticed that BainsBane had been right; this guy was
big, really big.
I’m far from diminutive, but this guy was
really hung.
“Maybe we could wear athletic supporters,†I suggested; “after all, he and I have, uh, certain body parts that can be easily damaged, putting us at a disadvantage.â€
“No, you guys should wear only shirts,†the tall red-head said; “after all, men are better at sports than women, and you could consider it a handicap, like in golf. It equalizes things, making them more fair.â€
I looked at Romeo again; his unspoken message was that it’d be fun to play soccer.
The tall red-head tore off her shirt and pulled it down over my head. It was pretty tight, and at its lengthiest it reached my navel. The short red-head gave her long-ago discarded shirt to Romeo, which likewise was way too short.
We played soccer and the men won, although I wonder if perhaps the women let us, given how I found myself really cautious about the soccer ball, and so didn’t play hard.
So Romeo and I got our choices, he sitting in a chair while the short red-head squatted in front of him. “Nothing special,†I informed my own partner, the tall red-head; “I just want to poke.â€
- - - - - - - - - -
We used every position possible, whichever one she wanted, just so I could poke her. So she was happy, and I was happy. As far as I was concerned, we could do it hanging from the rafters, or her standing on her head, just so I could keep poking.
But watching the other two from across the porch, I wondered if I’d made the wrong choice, seeing Romeo writhe in closed-eyed blissful ecstasy; he wiggled so much I feared he’d break the legs off the chair.
Then I figured no, it was more fun doing what I was doing.
After Romeo seemed sated, he and the short red-head toked a bit more, watching us until he finally reminded us it was late, and he had to work in a few hours.
“But wait,†I protested. “I’m not done yet. She wanted to play first, and I’ve been giving her what she wanted--â€
“Don‘t you ever pop?†the tall red-head asked me. “I kept reaching a new level, and thought you’d pop then--â€
“Just being considerate of the needs of the woman,†I said modestly, lighting a cigarette. “If I pop too soon, I deflate, and turn over and go to sleep, and it gets the woman all upset and bent out of shape, and I never hear the end of it.â€
But they had to leave, so they left. I laid down on the
chaise longue and drifted to sleep.
- - - -- - - - - - -
A couple of hours later, after the sun had just come up, I was shaken awake on the shoulder by the property caretaker.
“Dude,†he said, admiringly.
to be continued