by Alden Odessa
This was my sex life. The sex life of a married man. A man who had always promised himself, and even talked about it with his wife, that he would never be that way. He would never be that kind of lover. Yet here I am, that kind of lover.
This was different. She had attacked me. It had been years since she had made the first move. She had taken off all of her clothes, grabbed my cock and got on her knees. She took my dick and engulfed it into her mouth, using her hand to stabilize it as she jolted her mouth up and down on it. Then she took her lips off of it and open wide, slapping it against her tongue.
She stood up to face me; she looked me in the eyes, but she kept jerking on it with her hand. She lifted her legs slightly and took my cock and rubbed it against her clit. She rubbed the head between her wet lips and looked me in the eyes.
“Do you want to fuck this pussy?”
“Oh yes,” I said. Since when did she talk dirty?
“You want to put this fat cock in my pussy?”
“Oh yes,” I repeated.
She continued to rub the tip of my cock against her pussy, all the while smiling at me. Finally she turned around and bent over. I knew what to do, but she wasn’t leaving anything to chance. She reached back and grabbed onto my cock once again and started tugging it some more. Pressing it against her pussy. She was bent all the way over, looking at the scene, looking at my cock as she rubbed it against her clit.
“I want to see you fuck me,” she said.
Who was this woman and what had she done with my wife!?
She took my dick and slid it into her and let out a groan of approval. It wasn’t a sigh; it wasn’t a moan; it verged on the edge of being a grunt. She wanted this dick in her and she wanted to work it for all it was worth.
She moved her hand and continued to lean down, looking backward and up as I pounded her pussy. But to tell the truth, she was doing more of the work than I was; she was slamming her ass backward into me. Harder and harder, all the while watching my balls flap against her.
She was screaming at me now, “Yes! Yes! Yes! Harder! Fuck me harder!” she said, over and over.
Finally she pulled away and turned around. She grabbed my shoulders and pushed me down to my knees and then onto my back. I was laying flat on the floor and she got on top of me. But she didn’t lay on my dick, she brought her pussy to my face and told me to lick it. She didn’t give me a choice either, she just straddled my face.
I stuck out my tongue and tried to flick her clit with it, but she had fully shoved her entire pussy in my face, covering my mouth. I had no option but to eat it. So I munched as hard as I could, careful not to use my teeth even though I think right now she wouldn’t mind.
I jawed on her pussy and felt her juices running all down my face. This was intense. This was like nothing I had even done to her before. Where did she learn all of this? Was she having an affair? Did she learn all of this from some other man? Why the fuck was I thinking about all of this?
After a few minutes of using my face as a saddle, she pulled back and grabbed my cock and jumped on it, facing me. If I thought she had been aggressive before that was nothing. She rode my cock like she was trying to get to the bottom of some great mystery. Rocking back and forth so fast that her movements were practically a blur! It almost hurt, but in the best way possible.
She was screaming now; I had never heard her scream before; it wasn’t just a scream; it was a wail, as she ground back and forth.
“Oh Karen!” I said.
“Fuck me! Fuck me!” is all she said as she continued to press into me. She wasn’t bouncing, she was pressing against me forcefully, getting as much of my dick as there was to get. I was half expecting her to reach back and shove my balls in as well.
I didn’t know if she was coming or just screaming like a wild animal. I had made her come plenty of times in the past and I know what her reaction was like. She pressed down and let the orgasm wash over her, slowly. If she was coming now, it was unlike any that she had ever had before.
Whatever the case, the end result would be the same, I was about to blow my load. It was going to be so massive that it was going to shoot out of her perfect tan nipples. I was grabbing her thighs, trying to slow her down but to no avail. She was moving too fast and seemed to pay no attention to me, she was more just thinking about my cock. She rode it harder and harder until finally I started yelling, just trying to make a sound louder than hers.
“Im going to come!” I yelled.
“Yes! Come!” she screamed, getting ever louder and working my dick just as hard as she already had been.
“Come in my pussy!” she screamed. “Come in my pussy, Buster Rockknocker!”
“Im gonna—”
Wait! What?
Buster Rockknocker!?
10
Back to Reality?
I bolt awake. I have no idea what time it is but I know I have just had a dream, or am still dreaming.
What just happened? I was having a dream. Who was in the dream? Was it me? It was me, but what was it about? It was a sex dream. I was having sex.
I sit up and check my surroundings. Where am I?
I’m disoriented. I can’t figure out what is going on, I feel like something, or someone, is in my head and suddenly nothing makes any sense.
A hotel room, I’m in a hotel room. There is a woman here, she is naked. The covers have come off of her a little, I can see her blithe frame and part of her ass. She’s cute. Is this my wife?
Karen. That name comes to me. Her name is Karen, but where am I? I shake my head, as if there are some cobwebs up there and if I shake it hard enough they will come out. That didn’t work, I take the palm of my hand and hit it, firmly against my head. Trying to knock some sense into myself.
Where am I? What is this hotel?
I’m naked. I have an erection, painfully so. I was having a sex dream, but it was not about this woman. I look at her again.
Betty.
Her name isn’t Karen, her name is Betty. I know that, but how? I need water.
I get out of bed. Where is the bathroom? There are three doors, one of them open. There is a door to my left, closed. In front of me is another, it looks heavier, that must be the door out of this room. I look to my right, there is a door that is open. That has to be the bathroom. I stand up, I immediately sit back down. What’s wrong with me?
Something is in my mind that isn’t supposed to be there. A memory? A thought? I don’t know. I orient myself. I sit up straight; I let my mind stop spinning. The girl, Betty—or is it Karen?—stirs. This is not my wife. Who is she? I know her. I’m helping her. To what end?
I need water.
I try to stand again, I can do it. I stand and let the room stop spinning. My dick hurts. Why? It’s sore. Why do I have an erection? Did I have sex with this woman?
Yes. I had sex with this woman. She must be my wife. No, that’s not right.
Water.
I stumble to the bathroom and put my head under the faucet. This water tastes terrible, but not so terrible that I can’t still tell that it’s water. I drink it. I sit down on the toilet seat, first checking that the lid is down.
I panicked, but I’m fine now. I take a moment and stand back up and walk back into the main room. There is a table and on the table is a pack of cigarettes and an ashtray. I don’t smoke. Or do I?
I did. I used to smoke.
I go to the table and sit down in the padded chair next to it. This chair is uncomfortable. It feels like all the springs in it are busted. The cloth on the arms are torn, the stuffing is coming out.
This is my room. This is The Falls, I remember it now. It’s coming back to me. I look at the table. I take the cigarettes and light one with the book of matches sitting right beside them. It tastes good. I’m not panicked anymore. I remember everything now.
This is The Falls Motel. In the bed, that’s Betty. She was a prostitute—is a prostitute. In the other room, through the door, that’s Bogo, the giant I picke
d up on the way here, to The Lower Bottoms. We came here to find girls, girls to build my harem that I can whore out to make money.
Build my harem.
Run the city.
Win the game.
What game?
It hasn’t all come back to me yet. I take another drag. I am in a game, or a simulation, some sort of alternate reality different from my own.
I’m Doug Wannaker, married to Karen. From a different place. A different place than this. Why was I all of a sudden having a hard time remembering this? What the hell did I drink? Had I gotten drunk last night? Or was it just exhaustion? I remember, we walked miles yesterday, throughout the city. Maybe not miles, but it had been uphill, and crowded. I’m in Canny Valley, in the city.
Okay, let the cigarette do its thing, I’m already feeling better. I should probably put on some pants.
This is a game. I am stuck in the game. I have stats I can check. I’ll do that later. Why did I just feel like that?
I hadn’t checked out much of the room yet. We had gotten in and went straight to bed; we had all been tired. I had sex with Betty, crazy sex. Punishing sex. I hope she’s okay; I hope I didn’t hurt her. What was wrong with me last night? I was angry, frustrated; tired. With a fresh night of sleep, that seemed to stick with me a little longer than intended, I could think clearly now. I also felt bad about last night. I’d never be that rough with Betty again. She didn’t deserve it.
Almost on cue she stirred and sat up in bed. She pulled the sheets up to her chest to cover herself as if suddenly very modest. I then realized that I was still naked. And erect. I was embarrassed slightly, but then just decided that I didn’t care. I keep forgetting I kind of like to show this body off. In my world I’m not this fit, or this hung. Plus, she’d seen it plenty in the last two days.
“Good morning,” she said, groggily.
“How did you sleep?” I asked.
“Like I got hit by a train,” she said with a smile, and then looked at my body and then pointed to my dick. “There it is,” she said with a giggle. I forgot she was funny.
I smiled back at her and chuckled. “Speaking of which, I’m—uh—sorry about that.”
“About what?”
“I was a little rough.”
“I had a good time,” she said, happily. If she felt anything awkward about last night, it was gone now. She seemed good with it at the time, but I didn’t know if that was just me thinking with my dick. Justifying it at the time just to get my rocks off. I was clearly wrong, she seemed to be fine with it, and I’m sure she’s had much worse “Back-Alley stuff” done to her. Still, I didn’t want to treat her like that.
She continued to smile at me and then looked back down to my crotch. “Do you want me to do something about that?”
At first I was confused and then looked down at my hard-on. After all of that, she was still eager to please. Was I going back to this well? She is sometimes offended if I turn her down. Not offended, but she gets nervous that she has done something wrong when I don’t let her finish me off.
“What did you have in mind?” I asked.
“Whatever you want, you’re the boss.”
At least she was starting to call me boss now, instead of referring to me as her owner. I guess technically I was both, but I chose not to look at it that way. She was going to be one of my partners in getting me out of here and back to my wife. Karen.
Betty threw off her covers and got out of bed and started to walk over to me. Naked from head to toe. Her freshly groomed body looked nice in this light, the yellow-ish violet hue of early morning in Canny Valley. I was so hard from the dream I had. The dream I couldn’t remember. I was so aroused from the dream that Bogo would probably look good to me right now.
No. Not Bogo. That was a terrible thought.
She walked over and sat on my knee. She’s so small, and light. Her naked skin feels good against me and my hard dick is resting on her thigh. She reaches down and touches it, gently.
“You look like you need some relief here,” she said.
“I have to warn you. It’ll happen pretty quick.”
“That’s fine,” she said.
“And there’s going to be a lot of it,” I said, knowing what it felt like now when I was going to have a massive load.
“Good,” she said with a mischievous smile. “I do need breakfast.”
11
This Peach is Sour
Shortly after getting a little, uh, tension relief from Betty, Bogo woke up.
“Hungry.” Is all that he had said. So I knew we needed to head down to the market to get some food. We should probably also look into getting some clean water as I just didn’t trust what was coming out of the faucet here.
The market in The Upper Bottoms was a large place, all open air, and it looked like a good selection of fresh fruit and vegetables. It also had fresh cuts of meat as well as packaged meat. We could not have meat that needed to be cooked as we had no way of cooking it. The advertised kitchenette did not come with a range.
It looked like we would be living on a diet of fruit and veggies for the time being until we found a way to start cooking things.
Betty found a stand selling tortillas and another selling Hummus. Mixed in with some vegetables this should provide us with some much needed carbohydrates and protein.
It didn’t seem as though either of my harem members had a sensitive palette; Bogo especially seemed to be open to any form of food. There was a place selling live goats, and he gave them a look; he seemed like the kind of fella that could, and would, eat a live goat. I decided to keep him away from that area of the market.
We loaded up with all that we could carry, Bogo doing the majority of it, and headed back to The Falls. This market was nowhere near as clean as the first stand I had visited. But it was a full area, it took up a full city block. Betty explained to me that this was the city center of The Upper Bottoms. Anything that we needed to purchase could be found in or around this area. Off of the main block I saw other shops that sold everything from guns to couches. None of it was very nice.
I thought, from a distance, the fruit was the same, but it wasn’t. It was a day or two old or a day or two young; it was never perfectly ripe. Some of it even looked spoiled. I certainly wouldn’t trust the meat here.
In this world, it seemed like the changes in neighborhoods where all painted with broad strokes. On a scale of one to ten, ten being the highest, then the food in the first section of town I spawned in, would be a ten. As we went deeper into the city, the food, buildings, women, and even streets seemed to level down.
So if the spawning area was a level ten, this would have been more of a level two or three. Nothing was as nice, everything was dirty. The people looked like they never bathed and I would venture to guess that not a lot of money circulated down here.
I saw a significant lack of brothels and I wondered if it was part of the economic problems or if it was a need problem. They didn’t need them down here, so they didn’t have them.
I guessed that it was about fifty-fifty.
I noticed a few prostitutes however, or they were what I assumed were prostitutes, just roaming the streets. They would walk up to men and speak to them, and then most moved on. Once again, people didn’t seem to be interested. Looking at the women, I was not interested either. They were just as filthy as the rest of the people around here. They were still wearing dirty clothes, just less of them.
It made sense that Betty was from the area. When I first met her she didn’t look much different from the surrounding girls. She needed to be cleaned up. She was cute afterwards. She wasn’t like the bombshells around The Reference Hotel but she was still a cute girl. She did appear to be getting past her time of use though. She was a little older, still not sure on her age, and I didn’t really want to ask. I still felt she was somewhere near in age to myself, and that’s a little too old to keep up with the early twenties lookers in the main area.
I see why sh
e was relegated to “back-alley stuff.”
I left the market $75 lighter than I went in and I still needed some more clothing for Betty, myself and Bogo, but at least I got a pack of smokes. They weren’t Most Popular’s; they were literally called Third Stringers, so I skipped a level of cigarettes somewhere.
We hot footed it back to The Falls Hotel and got to our room, unpacking all of our supplies. I am sure I would need to make another trip soon, lots of things I would need. Things like deodorant if I even needed such a thing here. Since the hotels all had things like soap and shampoo, I assumed that I would need some other personal items, and that also went for my two compatriots.
Would Betty need tampons? Do they have menstrual cycles here? So many questions.
I was close to coming up with a plan, but before I did I would need information, and since I didn’t have the money to go down to the bar and talk to the bartender, Betty would have to do.
We prepared some food for the three of us. The fruit, as mentioned, was nothing like it was by The Reference. This peach was sour, like it had been sitting in the hot sun for a few days. Which wouldn’t be the case as Canny Valley had no sun. Everything earlier had tasted like it was supposed it to taste, in fact it tasted like the very best version of that particular thing, but this fruit, tasted like the discount store version. Which made sense, I mean I did get two day's worth of food—including food for a man who ate like three people by himself—and some supplies for seventy-five dollars. You get what you pay for, even in a virtual world.
I didn’t need to check my stats to know that I was now just under three hundred dollars and only one more night paid for in this hotel so I had to figure out something quick fast and in a hurry. If I didn’t, I would have to turn Betty loose in The Upper Bottoms and honestly I didn’t know how much I could really expect her to make in this part of town. Probably enough for a night in The Falls and a day's worth of food, and that’s if she worked all day in the market sucking dirty dicks. She would do it if I asked her to, but I’m going to try to prevent that from happening.