Long Schlong Silver

by Kade, Teagan

  I bend over in laughter. “Quite the introduction.”

  “Stupid prick strolled on up here like it was natural as anything walking around with a sewer pipe for a penis, extended his hand.”

  “How’d you fall into organizing his, you know…”

  “The girls? Just got sick of them coming into the shop, saying things like they were looking for ‘tango lessons’ or ‘the healer,’ if you can believe it. Guess I started penning it all down, word got around… Fuck knows why I continued on with it. He had a god-damn queue of them one day, dawdling around the shop like it was the local mall.”

  He points to me with one stubby finger. “But you, my dear… I have never in all these years seen him so smitten, so completely head-over-dick about anyone before, so either you’re the real deal,” eyes lowering, “or you got some kind of mystical magical vagina there.”

  I take another swig. “I’d say it’s a bit of both, actually.”

  Bart shakes his head, placing down his empty bottle and taking out another from the cooler, the telltale sscchht following as he cracks it open. “You going to treat him right? The truth now.”

  I lean back in the chair watching Roxanne and remembering everything that has taken place so far, and what might come yet. “I just might.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  BOBBY

  After finding Bart and Gisele jabbering away like a couple of besties last night, I’m pretty sure anything is possible. It was nice, though, seeing the two most important people in my life interact like that… even if it was with, by the looks of it, ample liquid lubrication. None of the latter was required later. I imagine Bart could hear us all the way up at the Gas & Tackle.

  Gisele and I spend the rest of the day lazing around Roxanne, a quick trip up to the Cove delivering a pretty impressive haul, all of which Gisele implores me to send back. I found myself searching the shadows for the Beast, but after last time I don’t imagine he’d be frequenting the Cove anymore.

  A cold beer in hand, Gisele splayed across my chest, sun heavy above, I don’t think life gets any better than this.

  The boat’s bobbing gently, Gisele’s Ray-Bans glinting in the sunshine.

  “You and Bart sure looked cozy last night,” I tell her. “I suppose he gave up all my secrets.”

  She sips on her beer, wiping her mouth with the back of her arm in true tomboy style that’s as far away from the city lights as a twanging banjo and a quick jig in the dirt.

  It’s fucking awesome.

  “He told me how you met.”

  I think back. “Ah, yes, I like to call that the ‘Daniel Craig moment’… just without the fancy trunks.”

  “You didn’t think about putting on some clothes before you introduced yourself, before you rose from the water with,” she air-quotes again, “the Beast in tow?”

  I laugh. “Hey, he was going to see it sooner or later. Better to get everything out in the open from day one, I say. You heard from your client?”

  She shakes her head, hair shifting against me smelling like soapy perfection. “Nothing.”

  “Good,” I tell her, “because I don’t want to hear anything about work, the titles, money, clients… It’s a work-free day, got it?”

  The day after we made up, we both headed to the bank where Gisele took the titles and had me made the sole signatory to the safe deposit box.

  “What are you proposing we do then?” Gisele asks.

  I slide my hand between her legs. “Fish, fuck, and live free. How does that sound?”

  She pushes her pelvis out, moaning. “Not too bad, Mr. Silver. Not too bad at all.”

  I suddenly remember the paper slip in my pocket. I lean forward and pull it out.

  “Bart said to give you this, by the way.”

  She takes the slip of folded paper and opens it, surprised at what she reads written inside. “Wow, he works fast.”

  “That your guy?” I ask, nodding to the name on the paper.

  “One of the state’s most powerful businessmen with a net worth of around ten billion? Yep, looks about right.”

  “Jesus, so we’re dealing with the Wolf of Wall Street here, are we?”

  “More like the God of Wall Street,” I reply, “with all the power and resources that entails.”

  I take the paper out of her hand, tearing it in two, balling up what remains and tossing it into the front of the boat. “Enough of that,” I say, spinning her around so she’s straddling me. I hook a finger into the side of her panties, warm from the sun, pulling them aside. “More of this,” I tell her, quietly slipping a finger inside.

  *

  “How does the game work again?” she asks, wearing one of my old football jerseys. I didn’t even know I had the thing until she went rummaging through my drawers.

  We’re both half-drunk, the time coming up to half-past ten. We’re in the lounge on the same recliner together, a bottle of whiskey on the table that I’m working my way through far faster than usual.

  She drinks, pointing at my TV in the corner. “I can’t believe you’ve still got one of those square box TVs. Didn’t they go out of fashion in the ’90s?”

  “Hey, everything old is new again.”

  “Not that,” she laughs.

  I pick up the remote, switching on the VCR, another relic, the Big Bang Theory starting to play. “Don’t be disrespecting a man’s TV now.”

  “Or what?”

  I lift her up and flip the jersey over her back, smacking her sharply on the ass.

  “Ouch!” she laughs, falling back down on top of me.

  I rock forward, setting up the shot glasses on the coffee table and pouring loosely. “Shh, it’s starting. We drink if Leonard talks about Penny, Penny gets confused or anyone brings up a superhero or a comic. We take a shot if someone sings ‘soft kitty,’ Sheldon says ‘bazinga’ or someone actually gets the girl.”

  “Sounds complex.”

  Of course, I’ve seen this episode probably a hundred times, made sure it was full of all the necessary cues for a fun night.

  Halfway through I think Gisele starts to get wise. “You’ve seen this before, haven’t you?” she queries slyly.

  “It’s possible,” I shrug, knowing I won’t be able to lie—not to her.

  She pounds at my chest. “God, I haven’t been this drunk in forever.”

  I’m buzzed, but I know it’s going to take a whole lot more liquor before I’m anywhere close to being drunk as such.

  She takes the glass out of my hand. “Maybe we should quit while we’re ahead, huh?” She reaches down and snatches up the remote, switching off the TV.

  She hooks her arms around my neck, nuzzling into me. “Now carry me to bed and fuck me proper.”

  I pick her up. “Yes, ma’am.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  GISELE

  I wake up groggy, opening my eyes but unable to see anything.

  The hell?

  I go to move, but my hands have been tied behind my back. I’m still in bed. I’m wearing an eye mask. I think that’s it.

  “Bobby?” I call.

  “Right here,” he says. “You ready?”

  I try to move my hands, but the bonds are tight. “What’s going on?”

  “You said you wanted it rough, yes?”

  “I didn’t mean go full Dexter on me.”

  “A bit of harmless role-playing, if you like. If you don’t, we can call this quits now. If you do, we’ll come up with a safe word. Your call.”

  I struggle a little more, surprised at how much it’s turning me on being tied up like this, deprived of one of my most important senses. “What did you have in mind?” I ask.

  I can’t see him through the mask, but I know he’s smiling.

  “Just you wait,” he replies.

  *

  I don’t know where I’m being led only that it’s freezing outside and the ground is damp under my feet.

  I hear a garage door being lifted. I’m led forward, the doo
r drawn down.

  We came up with a safe word, a simple way for me to put a stop to this if it becomes too much, but the thrill of the new, the unnatural, is doing strange things to me. The anticipation of what’s to come… I don’t think ever been this wet.

  “Get down on your fucking knees,” comes Bobby’s voice, far more demanding than usual.

  Shit, I think. Here we go. This is for real.

  I’m so fucking wet.

  I get onto the floor, the concrete chilly under my knees.

  He comes around and unties my hands, my wrists sore.

  “Please,” I start, playing along. “Go easy on me.”

  My shirt’s gone, my pants too… Only my panties remain.

  The only reply is the sound of a belt buckle, a zipper, clothes collapsing on the floor.

  I sense him take a step closer, sense the enormous head of his cock before me. I shy away but he takes me by the back of the head and presses himself against my lips. “Suck,” he commands.

  Feeling my way with my quivering lips, I lick the crease where the base of his cock meets his balls. He’s hairless down there, balls and shaft shaved smooth, legs large and muscular.

  I nuzzle into his member before licking around the head of his cock in teasing circular patterns. I imagine his face above tightening with pleasure. His hands fall on top of my head as I begin to suck him off in earnest.

  “That’s the way,” he says. “You really know how to suck cock, don’t you?”

  I dip down and lick his balls, his silky shaft, can imagine what it would be like to run a hand up to his chest, chiseled abs above tightening and twitching under my fingers, solid as stone.

  The hands on my head press down harder and I’m forced to take more of his length. I suck harder, body shaking, betraying me, my sex growing hotter, slick with need.

  He pulls my hair together in a tight ponytail in one fist, using it to lever himself against me, hips thrusting forward into my face so that I’m forced to breathe through my nose, my mouth and throat are so filled with cock.

  His balls swing against my chin as he fucks my mouth, each thrust growing more brutal, hair pulling at my scalp. “Yes, baby,” he moans, “deep-throat that cock. Take it all.”

  I can’t reply as he shoves forward.

  I’m going to suffocate. I’m going to die choked to death by his cock.

  I’m lightheaded, desperately trying to take in air, gagging around the foreign member embedded in my throat. He drives himself even deeper, so deep I start to see stars.

  Just when I’m about to pass out, pins and needles filling my head, he withdraws, spittle hanging from my chin.

  Hot tears stain the blindfold.

  I whimper there, humiliated but at the same time unquestionably aroused. I know he’ll be able to see it, the Rorschach test of desire staining my panties as my longing grows.

  The safe word, I remember, but I don’t want to bring this to an early close, not yet.

  I’m not used to being so submissive, being dominated like this so completely. A dark curl of desire creeps its way between my legs, my pussy growing wetter and wetter.

  “You love it, don’t you?” he says, hot breath against my face. “I’m not done yet,” he says, turning my chin so that we’re face to face. “You’ve got other holes to be filled, and I intend to fuck every one of them.”

  I remember our wager in the arcade, the way I deliberately let him win.

  He’s laughing. “You remember, don’t you? What? You thought I was going to be all goodie-goodie nice guy? I want to fuck you in your tight little ass, hard. That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

  “No,” I plead, playing to him, “I’ve never—”

  “What? Been ass-fucked? I find that hard to believe,” he chuckles. “Tight little butt like that and nothing to fill it. It’s a crying shame, that’s what it is.” His lips brush my earlobe. “I’m going to take what I want.”

  I’m rolled onto my back, hands pressed painfully against the concrete below.

  My panties are pulled to shreds and thrown over my body. A strip of lace falls into my mouth. I spit it free.

  Powerful hands begin to press my legs apart.

  “Relax,” he says.

  I do as he commands, letting him part them. In the silence I know he is examining my pussy, eyes rolling over my twisted folds, my extra-large labia that brought me so much grief in high school under his immediate gaze.

  He pulls at one of my lips, pulls it away from my body until I wince.

  He slips a fingertip inside me and I instantly jerk away, surprised at how sensitive I am down there.

  “Aren’t you ashamed of how wet you are?”

  It’s true. My cheeks burn with humiliation.

  His finger probes deeper, curling against the roof of my pussy.

  “Tell me you want my cock in your hole.”

  When I don’t answer, he slaps me on the ass.

  “I want, I want,” I stutter.

  “What?”

  Thwack.

  I can’t believe I’m saying it, but the spanking has woken something inside me. “I want your cock in my hole.”

  “Is that a fact? You want my dirty, giant cock in that perfect little pussy of yours?”

  He runs a finger around my dilated opening. “Doesn’t seem like it would fit.”

  His finger retreats and he lies between my legs naked. Blocked by his body, there’s no way I can close them now.

  He fingers me again, adding a second and third digit, shoveling them into my soaking pussy.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say this tight little pussy of yours is dying for my cock.”

  I shiver with anticipation, a taboo sense of curiosity turning my insides molten. The head of his cock presses against my opening.

  “Mmmm,” he moans.

  He slides forward and stops partway inside me. Even half his length is enough to stretch me wide.

  Bobby thrusts forward, shoving the breath out of me in a long moan of submission.

  Even wet as I am, Bobby’s cock fills me completely as it burrows into my body. It slides out slick to the tip before plunging back inside, my folds stretching to accommodate it.

  I’m shaking, sex clenching around this invader, my own body my betrayer.

  Bobby strains as he grips the milky undersides of my thighs and presses my legs against my chest. “You’re so fucking tight, baby.”

  He shoves deeper and my pussy responds, flooding fresh with desire, aiding this criminal act. I’m complicit. I want it.

  I slide across the floor as he fucks me, my shoulder blades grazing against the concrete.

  He begins to fuck me deeper, harder, telling me over and over what a good fuck I am. I repeat it back to him in a lucid mantra when he requests, my pussy responding with a gentle convulsion.

  He bites down on my nipple and my orgasm rushes towards me. I’m just about to come when he pulls himself free and stands, my sex open and empty.

  He flips me over onto my knees and presses my back down with a foot against my spine. My nipples brush the floor, my cheek flat against it and ass high in the air.

  I can sense him moving, but I have no idea what he’s doing.

  I flinch when his tongue comes against my asshole.

  Oh, God.

  He slides his hand between my legs while he tongues my hole. Something is fluttering inside me, breaking free and rebuilding itself.

  A finger works its way into my ass, probing and stretching it out slowly. I’ve never had anything inside there before, surprised at how much sensation a single finger provides.

  Just when I’m getting into it, a steady thumbing on my clit to match, he pulls away, spreads my ass cheeks painfully wide and spits directly into my waiting hole.

  “Wai—”

  I don’t get to finish. He simply slides forward slowly and buries a good six inches of his cock inside my virgin ass.

  It moves in far more easily than it should, a completel
y new, completely foreign sensation. I groan long and deep, the sounds I make echoing dully, giving me a sense of the size of the room.

  When Bobby goes to withdraw it feels like he will pull me inside out. The walls of my ass go with his cock, friction hot and fiery before he plunges forward again deep into my most private of spaces.

  I cry out, begging, drooling, hands tight against my bonds and sweat breaking across my brow. There is nothing gentle about this as he rushes forward again, his entire weight over my rear end as his balls slap wetly against my pussy, his arousal helping but his member still far too wide and lengthy.

  I grunt, little more than an animal now, stretched to near breaking point, groaning as he gains another inch.

  His fingers grip into the flesh of my buttocks as he spreads them wider and spears deeper, succeeding in filling my ass completely, his monster cock swallowed up in my behind.

  He starts to find a rhythm, one hand moving to the valley of my back as he rocks against me. All the while that tight passage tries to clench him out, but he won’t have it, driving forward over and over until the pain subsides and all I’m left with is an overwhelming sense of satisfaction and pleasure. Never in my life have I felt so dirty, so used, so stretched to all capacity. The fulfilment, being completely filled out to every last square inch of my most intimate of orifices, raises new and taboo feelings inside me.

  With surprise, I realize I’m thrusting back against him. I’m quietly begging him under my breath to fuck me harder, to fuck my ass. He hooks his fingers into the side of my mouth and complies, thrusting forward with newfound power until my cries are replaced by the wet slapping of our bodies convening.

  I bite down on his fingers, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

  There’s a tremor that runs through my ass cheeks every time he fucks me. We crash together, lost in ecstasy.

  “You can’t get enough, can you?” he says, pummeling me with his member. “You love the feeling of my cock in your ass.”

  I do. I can’t get enough of it.

  “Tell me,” he says. “Tell me you fucking love it.”

  “I love it,” I gasp, breathing erratic, beginning to lose my grip on reality and submitting fully to my animal self.