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Scheherazade on IM

She’d been chatting with him on and off for a few weeks–or was it months? I suppose it doesn’t mean anything in internet time, where Einstein’s relativity rules (after lolcats, of course).

HIM: which i’d love to hear a story now before i go fuck my lover in her hallway.

HER: Against the wall or on the floor?

HIM: you can pick if you get me off.

HER: You should torture yourself and hold off until you get there.

HIM: i’m a baby, remember? i’m only happy when i come four times a day.

HER: If you insist.

HIM: i do, hottie

HER: The bar is packed, everyone is bumping into everything. The place is a mass of bodies, pulsing against a smoky background and already stale hits off last year’s Top 40 charts…

And so the story began, melting the 437 miles between them.

I’m trying to get the bartender’s attention. It’s open bar before midnight, but the fuckers charge for non-alcoholic drinks and I’m driving.

Before I can get my $15 Red Bull, I feel a hand go up my skirt.

I don’t move. I can see him barely out the corner of my eye, but I don’t turn to look. Imagine he was hideous?

Suddenly, I can’t decide if I want him to be hideous or not. There’s something delightful about the notion of being touched by an ugly man without your permission.

“Ha!” her friend interrupted the story on chat. “Is there?”

She ignored him and went on:

A hideous man. A bulging mass of sweaty, aging flesh. Oh, yes, it’s delightful, especially when you’re a beautiful woman.

I feel another hand on the small of my back. It slides around, gripping me around the waist, then runs up my chest and pulls me so I’m standing straight, just as the bartender hands me my drink.

I hear a voice in my ear, but I can’t make out what’s being said. The stranger pulls me against him–his torso doesn’t feel large or round against my back. Before I can feel disappointed, I feel his fingers hovering over my slit.

I’m wet. A man beside me elbows me. He’s talking animatedly with two other men, all of them with that boring emokid haircut that covers one of their eyes. Or both. Might as well. Sheep. Bahhh, say the sheep, bahh, walking blindly behind Brendon Urie.

A finger slides inside me. He pulls it out and and begins drawing circles in cunt juice around it. I sip my Red Bull and pull out a cigarette. I’m about to light it, when I feel his hand on my back again. He pushes me forward on the bar and leans close to me, “Order me a mojito,” he says and I can hear him clearly now.

A mojito. What a faggy drink. I am thoroughly appalled by the man, I can’t believe a Mojito-sucking pussy is fingering me at my bar.

I thrust my hips against his hands–I bet they’re manicured, too, that little bitch, and that he likes girls to finger his ass while they blow him. Or better yet, likes to borrow their dildos. Little fag, oh my god, yes, I thrust back against him.

He takes my hair in a hand and pulls me to him, “did you hear me? Get me a mojito.”

The fact that I man has me by the hair at the bar gets the bartender’s attention. (Mental note: employ technique later). I order the mojito.

I put it on my tab, what the hell.

Suddenly, the grip on me is released. I sip my drink and wait a few moments. Nothing happens. I’m still holding the unlit cigarette. The bartender slides an ashtray toward me. I keep waiting. Did the stranger leave? The mojito slides before me.

Did the stranger leave me with the fucking mojito?

I’m going to turn around, but I suddenly feel his breath on my neck.

“What would you do if I fucked you, right here?”

I feel something hot and hard against my thigh.

“At the bar?”

“At the bar,” he responds, pushing up my skirt. His cock is hot, pressing against my hole.

I pick up my lighter and light the cigarette I’d dropped on the bar. Inch by inch, his cock slides into me.

Someone bumps into me on the right. I don’t even bother to look. Everyone is so packed together, they don’t notice anything, not who they bump into, and certainly not who’s fucking at the bar.

I exhale. I can’t believe I’m getting fucked at a bar and no one can tell.

I suck on my cigarette, feeling kind of like a goddess even though I haven’t done a damn thing.

Just then, my eyes meet the bartender’s. He can tell. I can just tell that he can tell. Fuck. What’s he going to do?

He comes over, ignoring people trying to get his attention.

“How’s that mojito?” he asks.

The drink is still sitting in front of me, untouched.

“Great.”

“Need another one?”

I look at him. He’s older, worn, un-manicured hands. The sort of guy you see in dives around this part of town. Interesting.

We don’t verbalize anything more. When you serve people at decibels like these, you learn to guide yourself by other signs. He knows what I’ve in mind as well as he knew I was getting fucked right here.

I reach back and grab Mojito’s cock. I straighten up against his back and, turning so my lips are near his face, say, “we’re going outside.”

He pulls out. I give him a moment, then motion for Bartender to meet me in the alley. I don’t know if Mojito is following me. I don’t give a fuck. I notice the expression on the face of the woman manning the other side of the bar. The place is too full to take breaks. Oops.

I’m out the door. When he steps out, I push him against the garbage–

“Oh, darling,” she paused, making her friend fall out of the story and land back at his computer. “What’s it called?”

“What?” he asked.

“Oh, the dumpster,” she said.

“Mm-hm.”

I shove him against the dumpster and unbutton his pants. Inside there’s this big, fat cock. Not very big, but fatter than anything I have ever seen. It’s so fat, I get down on my knees and kiss it. I was gonna suck it, but I can only lick it because it’s so fat.

I’m on my knees licking him and he’s looking down and laughing, watching me lick his cock like that. He picks me up and pushes me against the dumpster, facing it so I can smell the sweet scent of rusting metal mingling with the rotting garbage inside. He rolls up my skirt so my ass is exposed to the cold, wet night.

Finally, I feel his fat cock slide inside me.

As his dick goes in and out, he brings his a hand on my hip, pulling me into him as he pounds me, and places another on my head, flattening the side of my face to the dumpster. From this view, I see the door open again. A shortish guy steps out, probably 5’10”, with reddish brown hair, clean cut, an all-American face. I assume it’s Mojito…

HIM: god gonna comw

The story stopped again and both were spun back into the reality of the pathetic glow of their laptop screens.

HER: Oh! Are you finished?

HIM: yes. wow. head, as always, spinning

HER: I was just about to get fucked in both holes, what a shame!

HIM: apparently this will be a two-volume story

HER: Have fun fucking your girl-thing.

HIM: i will. and i’ll be picturing you.

HER: Getting fucked in both holes by strangers?

HIM: mm, possibly.

He logged off, but you can’t stop a story once you’ve started it. When another IM opened on her screen, she picked up right where she’d left off.

I’m pressed up against a dumpster in the back of a bar, getting fucked by the bartender when the back opens and another man steps out. He walks decisively toward us and instead of stopping, the bartender begins to pound faster.

HIM: the typical thing would be for the other guy to like tag in for the bartender. but that’s boring. i think instead he would come up behind the bartender and put his hands on his hips and nuzzle his neck.

HER: Come on please me, don’t get all homo.

HIM: maybe he has a camera then–not some bullshit amateur camera. this guy is either a serious hobbyist or a pro.

The only light in the alley is a flickering neon 7-Up sign over the bodega on the corner, so the man with the camera moves in a disconnected sequence, as under a strobe. While he films, he unfastens his belt with the other hand.

He removes his belt, a thin leather one, and slips it into a noose around my neck. The bartender lets go of my head as Mojito begins to pull on the belt, directing my body toward him. I bend at the waist and reach for his dick in his unfastened pants.

When I pull it out, I see it’s smaller than the bartender’s. A perfect dick to suck off. I take hold of Mojito’s hips and begin to fuck his dick with my mouth.

Mojito hands the bartender the belt and I feel the direction of the pull change. Suddenly, I begin to feel light-headed as the oxygen supply diminishes. All I can feel are two cocks pounding into my mouth and cunt as the world starts to fade.

As with all stupid erotic asphyxiation n00bs, the bartender doesn’t know how to properly regulate the pull and I faint and fall to the wet asphalt. The cold wetness brings me to in seconds before the bartender is on me, his dick back inside me after half-slipping out during the fall.

My shirt with the plunging cleavage has opened, leaving my breasts exposed to the dirty, wet asphalt. Every time the bartender thrusts into me, I can feel the dirt grind against my nipples.

Mojito has the belt again, he’s slipped it around my mouth now and is pulling on it while pushing down on my neck with his foot.

The bartender’s cock is throbbing inside me, I can tell he’s about to cum. Sure enough, withing a few seconds, he’s pulled out and, having pushed Mojito away, he rolls me over with his boot and cums all over my face.

“Suck it clean,” he says, his gorgeous cock standing at attention, still dripping cum. I rise slowly and get on my knees to lick him clean. As I do, Mojito comes behind me and pulls me up, pushing me down so I’m bent at the waist again, with my ass in the air.

As I lick the bartender’s dick and balls, I feel the Mojito’s less impressive cock on my slit again, rubbing around it, spreading the juices all over. When he plunges, he doesn’t go into my pussy, he goes right into my ass. My sphincter tightens immediately, but it can’t hold against the power of the thrust.

Meanwhile, the bartender has taken the belt and removed it from around my neck. With Mojito deep inside me, the bartender pushes me so I’m standing up straight. Mojito holds me by the arms as he fucks me, and the bartender runs the leather against my exposed tits, dirty from being on the ground.

He doubles the belt and makes it snap, then brings it down on my left breast. Mojito plunges deeper.

Snap!

The belt lands on the right nipple. The pain flashes through my body, shooting down my spine and causing my ass muscles to tighten around Mojito’s cock.

Snap! Under my ribcage. Snap! My left nipple. The bartender comes close and reaches for my pussy. I’m dripping again. He brings his hand up and lifts my chin. I can smell my cunt on his fingers. He kisses me.

Mojito pulls out slowly then fills me with his cock again. I moan into the bartender’s mouth.

The bartender is getting hard again. I can feel his big cock pressing against me. And now that I’m upright, I can also feel the blood running out of my nose from where it was bloodied when my face hit the pavement in the fall earlier. In fact, the whole side of my face is throbbing. Oh, fuck, I can just tell it’s gonna be black and blue in the morning. Jesus, everyone is going to think my boyfriend beats the shit out of me. Random women are going to come up to me on the street and give me the phone numbers to battered women’s shelters.

The bartender hands the belt to Mojito, who uses it to tie my elbows together behind my back. Mojito then takes his free hand and grabs my throat and pulls me against him as he pushes his cock up into my ass. I realize that he’s leaning back over the dumpster in order to give the bartender a good angle on my cunt.

The bartender pulls my shirt and the top tie becomes undone, exposing my body completely. Her steps forward and grinds the head of his cock against my pussy, he’s working it against my clit, trying to get it hard enough to put it in again.

He’s stroking himself, just outside my cunt, all the while looking at me. I see him reach into his pocket with his free hand. At first I can’t see what it is–a condom? A little late for that, I’d imagine, I think feeling a sliver of guilt.

The bartender brings his hand to my face and I see the straight razor. He runs the edge of it over my lips and I can taste how sharp it is. He drags it down over my chin and down my frame, pressing it here and there just hard enough to make a little nick.

When I don’t struggle to get away, he gains some confidence and draws a long, shallow cut across my clavicle and abruptly thrusts his cock into me and so I’m suddenly completely filled up, ass and pussy, the two cocks almost touching inside me with just a thin layer of flesh between them.

The bartender puts the blade up against my throat where I can feel it, pushing just hard enough to break the skin a little.

“Cum for me, slut,” he says as he and Mojito pound into me.

A drop of bloody sweat lands on my lip, it stings. My whole face is throbbing. The bartender kisses me as he thrusts again, and my lips become alive with pain.

I can feel both their cocks now, moving out of sync, pummeling in their own way, one fast, the other slow, one hard, the other in gentle strokes. Then as they become aware of one another, it’s like they’re racing. I can’t take it. I realize I’m screaming and my knees buckling. They give, but their two cocks hold me up. With Mojito breathing into my neck and the bartender biting my lip, I cum.

The strength of my sexual response cycle makes my ass tighten around Mojito in a powerful sequence and he shoots into my ass, filling me with his searing cum. He’s followed by the bartender shortly after, who shoots his load into my cunt.

After a moment, the bartender pulls out and buttons up is pants. I step off Mojito and I feel the belt loosen around my elbows.

The familiar noise of zippers and buckles and a lighter as I light a cigarette, wondering how the fuck I’m gonna get my coat from the bar looking like I do.

“I’ll get your coat,” the bartender says. I hand him my ticket and he disappears inside the bar.

A few minutes later, I’m in a cab home, with a cab driver asking me if I want to call the police. People are so nice.

As for the video the guy shot? It got 1,276,430 views on Youtube before they took it down.

Not too bad for a typical Thursday night.

Artist Management

It seemed liked he was always behind her. Looking over her shoulder, talking to someone else, reading something. He’d come into the office and always be in Juliet’s periphery. When he was in plain sight, though, she swooned.

Those hands, those eyes, that voice. His beautiful Italian suits and his dark hair brushed just so, occasionally a strand falling into his eyes. Then there was his accent. Spanish, she knew, but there was a way he paused when he didn’t know an English word and he would drag out the word before and she would hang on that syllable like it was a finger going up her thigh.

His name was Xavier. Juliet had seen him play, once. First violin, of course. Every note was so strong, so distinct, so intentional. It was like he was playing a completely different instrument than the violin she’d picked up.

He was a client of the agency she worked for. He’d stop by whenever he was in New York and the other girls in the office would fawn over him. He’d even went out with one of them once, though nothing came of it. Juliet has been jealous, she admitted as much to herself. She didn’t even know him, but she found herself thinking about him, his olive skin, his honey brown eyes, wondering what his chest looked like under his expensive shirt.

When he came in that Wednesday she was happy she’d worn a pretty summer dress. A little low cut, not that she wanted to show off that much, but she did have something to show off under her dress.

He made small talk with one of the agents, he was going to have a big tour and they were putting together a press release. He was picky, he wanted to make sure it was perfect. The agent led him right to Juliet’s desk and she looked down hoping she wasn’t blushing as he took her hand and and kissed her cheek.

“Nice to see you again, Julietta? No… Juliet, si? I remember now, like the play.”

She nodded. She almost wished it was Julietta, on his lips it sounded better, more poetic, more worldly. He stood behind her as she pulled up the press release file on the computer. It was already late in the day and they had to finish it so it could be printed in the morning. He went over all the information and suggested a few changes. As they worked the others in the office left one by one. It was already six thirty and Juliet realized soon they would be the only ones in the office.

As she worked she felt the warmth of him standing over her, behind her. Juliet looked up just in time to catch him looking down at her, his eyes hungry on her cleavage. Her dress wasn’t that low cut, but she was very buxom and from his angle he was getting a view of the top of her tits, the lace of the fringe of her bra. Her face flushed immediately, but she didn’t move, in fact she just looked back at the computer, not wanting his eyes off of her.

He moved closer to her, pointing at the screen. His cologne was strong, usually she didn’t like that much cologne, but somehow the richness and exotic smell of it suited him. He was close; as he pointed to one of the pictures, his arm brushed her shoulder.

“Can you… how do you say? Make this one bigger and make the other smaller?” when he put his arm down it stayed pressed against her shoulder. She tried to fix the file with him in contact, but she was getting more and more turned on. When she finished the change and looked up his eyes were on her again.

There were times when it would have made her mad, she didn’t like men staring, but this was different. She straightened her back, pretending to stretch a little. She was showing off, but when she stretched her elbow brushed against him, he pressed into her a little more.

“It looks better this way. Can you move the phone numbers and make them bigger?” he asked, his other arm coming up and his hand resting on her shoulder, his thumb on the naked skin of her nape.

His hand was almost shockingly hot against her. His dark olive skin on her pale skin made her almost unable to move the mouse. His hot bloodedness was making her wet. His proximity, his hand, his eyes. It was like he was on top of her.

He leaned down, his mouth near her ear. “It looks good, don’t you think?”

Juliet nodded, breathing harder, wanting him so much it ached.

Then his lips were brushing against her ear out of nowhere. “I’m sorry Juliet, I can’t leave tonight without touching you at least once. Should I not?”

She didn’t say anything. She sat still and waited, her mouth half open. His hand came up and cupped her breast, his touch was strong, his fingers long and precise. His mouth was still next to her ear just barely brushing the lobe when he spoke. His voice was like a liqueur, potent and intoxicating.

“Your body is amazing, I’ve wanted to touch you since the first time I saw you.”

Her head turned and her mouth strained for his lips but he only kissed her cheek. Then he was kissing down her jaw to her neck. His hands now pulling at her dress. His lips and teeth on her neck making her dizzy, making her crazy. Then suddenly he was pulling her dress up and off, her arms in the air and then she was sitting there, in her office in only her shoes, bra and panties.

The cold of the air conditioning tickled her skin and her thighs felt wet. She felt absurdly naked with him in his suit next her and the fact that they were in the office. His hands were on her again, so hot on her cool body. He was obsessed with her breasts, kneading and and cradling them, tracing the hardening nipples through the fabric of her bra.

She turned her head again and finally caught his mouth with hers. His lips were soft, but his kiss was aggressive, hungry. His fingers were in her hair, pressing her to him and pulling her hair. Then his hands we moving down her spine, opening her bra.

“I need to see you. So fucking beautiful,” he growled as his hands went back to her body.

Her arm brushed against his hardness as he moved and she paused, moved back, felt it through his pants. He pushed against her hand. Then, as his fingers circled her sensitive nipple she started opening his pants. Past a zipper and buttons and silk boxers she found his cock. She held it as she slipped off the chair and got on her knees in front of him.

Looking over to her right she saw their reflection in a window. She was suddenly aware of how someone could walk in now and they would see her almost naked on her knees pulling out this client’s cock. She looked like a call girl, sucking the dick of a wealthy European. She looked like a slut.

His cock was long and smooth, like his body. Not as thick as she imagined, but hard and wet tipped. She licked it and he groaned. She sucked the tip into her mouth and his knees almost gave. She was good at it, she knew it. She had him. She sucked him, wet and hard, hand working him as she pressed her tongue against the bottom of his cock. He was loud, she liked that. He couldn’t control the sounds. Little pleading grunts and murmurs. Sucking cock made her wet.

She looked up at him and his eyes were dark and wide. She liked how he watched her, how he watched his cock disappear into her pretty mouth. She was putting on a show for him, stroking it and licking the tip.

Then his hands were roughly on her shoulder, then her arms, he pulled her up and turned her around and bent her over her desk. He pulled at her panties, pulling them to the side, too eager to even take them off. He was wet with her saliva, but that was nothing compared to the wetness he slid against as he pushed forward. They both gasped.

“Fuck that pussy.” she said through gritted teeth, the words making her face even redder as she said them.

His fingers on her hips, he fucked her, her fingers spread out on the table as she took every thrust.

“You like that tight pussy. Fuck me. Come on.” she goaded and he grunted a “Yes, fuck!” followed by a string of harsh Spanish whispers.

One of her hands flew back and she pulled her panties further to the side, rubbing herself in rhythm with him. He felt the movement on his balls as they slapped against her and the sensation made him wince. He was pounding into her in slow hard thrusts, nearly picking her up each time. The friction was excruciatingly good.

She rubbed faster and faster and as she felt her orgasm rushing in, she yelled, “Fuck me! Fuck me fast! Come on!”

She tightened around him and grew wetter as he started pounding her fast and hard until he felt every inch of him in her and the hot familiar rush build inside of him. He let out loud groans and she quickly pulled away from him and turned around, letting him cum all over the tits he was so obsessed with. Shot after shot as she held them up for him to rub against. The head of his cock hard against her pink nipples.

Then he was standing there gasping, pants around his ankles and hair sticking to his face. Juliet got off her knees and kissed him once on the lips. Then she walked on shaky legs to the bathroom to clean herself up, knowing he would be gone when she got back.

Originally published in Jack Wites Dirty. Used with permission.