First Time Cheat Ch. 03byDieNasty©
It had been a month since my wife walked in on her sister giving me a blow job.
That was a Saturday. Sunday was quiet. Monday I went to work and when I returned home, all evidence of my wife was gone from our house. And neither my wife nor Tory would return my phone calls.
This past month has been wrought with depression and anxiety. I miss my 2 year old daughter like crazy. She no longer shrieks and runs to me when I open the front door. To be honest, I am doing fine without the daily conversation that comes with marriage. But I do feel like a loser for breaking my promise to her.
And to add to the misery, I am quite-nearly a sex addict, and it has been a month since I have had sex. At this point, I am craving some human contact other then my own. Things came to a head on Friday night, when my hormones got the better of me. I resolved to do something I have NEVER done before- something crazy: pay for sex. I just needed some action, for Christ's sake!
I despise the club scene, these days. Bump and grind, drink and lie; all in the hopes you'll take some other liar home. I was looking for a sure thing without any drama. So Friday night I got high, withdrew a grand from my savings account and drove to an arguably 'seedy' side of town I used to frequent when I was single. Over there it's dirty, smelly and dangerous. The area has a gay reputation but the streets are lined with tattoos parlors and taro card readers mixed between fairly good restaurants, bars and clubs; a watered down version of New Orleans's Bourbon Street.
Driving slowly down the strip, I read the signs on the old homes that have been converted into small businesses. A small, square house with a neon sign for a massage parlor jumps out at me. I gathered the business' name was: "Hands on", but in almost as large Neon lettering were the words "True Swedish Full body massage" and "done right by trained masseuse" in smaller sub-script, and "Models available" below. Now what do all these things have in common? I'm not sure, but this looks like a good place to start.
Parking was in back, and I took a spot next to the back door, and walk around to the street entrance. The front door opens to a 10' x 10' room with a service window and a locked door. I ring a bell and a kid in a ripped long-johns shirt opens the window. He's maybe early 20's, the wigger type. Blond haired, ironed straight; he's not flaming, but I'll bet a Benjamin he like cock and wished he had a pussy. He says his name is James.
"So how does this place work?" I ask.
He is looking me up and down with his blue eyes and long lashes, like a girl. I think he's wearing makeup. "Well, it's $60 to rent a space for half and hour, or $100 to have the room for an hour." He says with this wimpy, effeminate voice. "You tip the models separately for...whatever you want." He gives a half smile/smirk. His eyes have a shifty quality. I don't like this kid.
Forget it. Let's see some tits and ass...
I agree to an hour session and pay the room fee upfront, using my wad of cash. I don't carry my wallet to clubs or bars; just my I.D., back-up credit card and cash. Tonight, I also carried condoms. But I don't like his dead, blank face when staring at the money I pull out. Fuck it. I'm horny as hell and anticipating hands or a mouth on my cock. I haven't cum in 2 days, intentionally building my excitement and reserves for my planned night out. I'd pay every dollar in my pocket to fuck a hot chick tonight. Disgusting, I know. I have never paid for sex, out-right.
I walk thru the door a moment later into another 10'x10' room where 4 girls are waiting in front of me. A true smorgasbord! There is a Latino with a huge ass and pushed-up B titties, but she reminds me of my wife so I look past her. There is a black chick with great tits and ass, but she's also little scary looking: dreads, long fake nails and eyelashes, and what is that: a bullet wound in her arm? There's a small Chinese chick, playing the young girl look. She's certainly cute but has hardly any tits or ass- just not my thing. There's only one girl left, and she's perfect what I had in mind.
So, I choose the slightly pudgy blond with big naturals, because I love big tits and that's all there is to it. She's a shorty, maybe 5'-4". But her heels bring her to 5'-8" and help to accentuate her thick legs and ass. Her 'Cowboys' cheerleader outfit is a tight fit.
She says her name is Casey, and she leads me thru a short hallway into 10'x15' room. It's quite dark in there. The only light comes from a lamp with a dark red shade, fully enclosing the bulb, besides the crack at the bottom of the door. As we walk in, she's doing a little dance to the beat on the stereo while directing me into the couch. The massage table at the other end of the room and a small chest of drawers with the portable stereo were the only other furniture. She moves smoothly; a very good dancer. Her flexible torso accentuates her curves up top and her big round butt. Sure, you can 'pinch an inch' on her; but she also looked soft and warm. Make that hot!
"So, honey, what kind of party did you want?" she says with only a slight southern drawl.
I wonder if there's some kind of key word you're supposed to use. "What kind can I have? How does this work?" I start.
"Well, you've rented the room for an hour. And now you pay me, for my time to entertain you."
"Well, how much do I pay you?"
"Well, I can't just tell you an amount. It depends on what you want." She lifts her two boobs with her hands a little and jiggles them. "What do you think I'm worth?" she asked, trying to look seductively.
"Oh, I'm sure you're worth a lot." I said, drooling over her squishy double D's. "But, is there some kind of standard amount?"
She sizes me up as an innocent. "Have you ever been to a place like this?"
"I see. But you go to strip clubs a lot."
"Not for some years, since I got married. But I used to, quite a bit, yes."
"Well, let me just say; we're not strippers. I am not a stripper. So we don't get tipped $20, like strippers. You're paying for an hour of my company. I can be pleasant and gracious and fun company. If you'd like a massage or you would like me to dance for you, I would do everything to ensure you enjoyed the time you spend with me, and the money you spend on me."
I don't know what other guys pay, but I pulled 2 bills out of my pocket and pressed it in her palm. "Will $200 get us started?"
She smiles with a tilted head. "Of course it will, honey." She opens the top drawer of the small chest and slips the $200 into her purse. Then she leans in close and asks: "Now what can I do for you?"
I pulled a flask of vodka out of my sports coat pocket; time to get this party started! "I want a drink." I say. "And could you turn the music up just a tiny bit. I'd like to watch you dance some more. But...with less clothes on."
"Absolutely, darling." She said, completely compliant to my wishes.
She slid from the couch to the dance floor and raised the volume of the stereo with barely a touch, all in one smooth move. Her body bounced with great timing to the beat. As she spun around slowly, she dropped her cheerleader vest down her arms behind her, smoothly. I watch as she does the classic bend over, 'watch my big ass revealed as I peel off these tiny shorts' move. It was great. She was down to a thread-like bikini & thong. The tiny outfit barely contained her bulging features and my mouth was beginning to water.
After a while, the warmth of the vodka loosened me up and I wanted to smell her skin and feel her soft, fleshy curves. I rose off the couch and joined her, moving to the beat. She began to undress me as we danced. Coat. Shirt. Shoes and socks. Pants. Undershirt. She looked down at the bulge in my underwear with a knowing grin and turned around, teasing me, grinding her ass right into it.
Then, as we're dancing, she undoes her bikini top strings. It pulls off in one piece and she tosses it to the couch and her heavy, swinging tits are hanging between us. Soft and slightly floppy, they are still very sexy. I chance physical contact by dragging my fingertips down the length of her long tits. She has the tiniest, wrinkly pink nipples I have ever seen on a large boob. After a minute she undoes the side ties of her bottoms and pulls them off easily. And now I'm dancing up close to her soft, naked body. She presses my hands to her fleshy double D's and signals me that feeling is o.k. When she grinds her ass on my throbbing dick, I can feel the heat of her privates as my pole pushes into her ass crack. She slips her hands into my briefs and grips my wooden pole lightly, stroking it a few times.
When the song ended, with my boxer briefs tenting enough to see down into, she led me to the massage table and laid me on my back. "You'll be more comfortable without these, I think." And she slides my drawers off me. My long, swollen Johnson was rock solid and twitching. A sticky string of precum had already begun to drain out the tip and drip. She stares at it but walks around to the top of the table and starts rubbing my temples. "How about a massage? I have great hands."
"I can see that." I say, thinking how to phrase my real request. "Casey, I'm willing to pay more for your company, if I really enjoy myself."
"Mmmmmm." She stared at the ceiling and seemed to be thinking it over. "I can help you enjoy yourself tonight, honey." She massaged my neck, shoulders and arms, letting her large breasts hang right into my face. I licked the nipples a couple times as my dick jerked uncontrollably. She really does perform some great massage work, all while in alluring positions. She steps up on a stool, hanging over me, letting her pendulum breasts swing above me; her nipples tickling my chest and stomach as she works. Then, to my dismay she asks me to turn on my stomach. She'll 'work out more kinks' that way. I find a hole in the crotch area of the chair just like the one at the face. And now my swollen dick and heavy balls are breezy free and hanging below me.
She sits on my back. She's small but her weight is confining on the friction of the leather table. Her clean shaven pussy is grinding into my spine; leaving warm, slick pussy juice everywhere it rubs. 'This is heaven.' I thought, just before it turned into Hell.
I was enjoying the massage until the door burst open and the wigger kid is in my room! In a second, he has rushed the table and with the heavy girl on my back and shoulders, I cannot react quickly enough. He swings his arm at my face and I hear a knock on my skull but feel no pain. As the darkness of the room began to swallow me, I hear him comment to the blond bitch who's pressing my shoulders into the table: "Well, he's got a nice ass."
My first conscious thought is that I must be trapped under something heavy. My eyes flutter. It's blurry. I cannot focus. My head is so heavy I don't even try to move it. I feel myself shaking, no- rocking, and hard. No wait; it's the table I'm still laying on that is being shook.
Slowly, the hundreds of sensations we experience unconsciously and simultaneously while awake began to arrange themselves back into order and my brain begins to make sense of the signals. It registers that there is a great weight on my body. And that my legs hurt from some pressure on them. And there is a sharp, shooting pain in my lower back. And my head is pounding.
And I can hear voices. No, wait...only one voice. But it's whispering like its talking to someone. It's a guy's voice. He's speaking near my ear but not into it. I summon all focus onto the voice and begin to make out words.
"You like that, you big fucking prick? Yeah, that's right...take this, bitch! You wanted to fuck her, didn't you? Fucking pig. You brought that big wad of money in here and wanted to fuck Charlie's girl, didn't you. He-he-he. Who's getting fucked now, bitch! He-he-he."
While he was talking I was putting the pieces together in my head. I was still on the massage table. I have a flashing memory being hit on the head. But why is he still beating on me? Just take the money and...Oh. Fuck! I finally understand when the sharp pain in my 'lower back' is reaching my brain accurately.
'Fuck! Son...of...a...mother...fucking...whore! That skinny fag from the front desk is fucking me!' I feel a painful burning sensation around my actual asshole. And the shooting pain is from his hard thrusts. He's not pounding away for a quick one, he's pulling himself out of my butt as far as he can go and then ramming it back in. He's fucking trying to enjoy this! And he's still talking shit with that fucking whiny voice.
All these thoughts are clarifying rather quickly now. It's been less then a minute since I came to. I haven't moved yet and I don't think I'm restrained. I guess the freak thought he hit me hard enough.
Think! Well, I have the element of surprise on my side.
I knew what to do all at once. He gave me the signal when he wouldn't shut the fuck up. "Oooohhhh...here it comes, baby. Oh...Oh, this is gonna feel so good, you fucking long dicked bastard! I'm gonna come right in your fucking a-- *ughck*."
There was a foot long twit of heavy copper wire in his right hand when he braced his weight on the table, preparing to cum. His weapon was right in front of my face so I didn't worry about it. He had lifted his body off mine and was supporting himself with just his arms for a better orgasm when I drove my right elbow, with every bit of force in my muscles, soul and mind, into the center of his body.
I'm sorry I couldn't see the actual impact from my vantage point. But he must have been airborn for a moment because he never touched me as he fell. I heard his body land on the carpeted floor about two seconds later on my left side. His dick slipped out so quickly I hardly noticed it. I jumped to the floor beside him and was prepared to beat the shit out of him with abandon when I saw him doubled up, writhing in pain. He was naked. His skinny, 5" pencil dick spurted a little drop of cum on his leg, and then another tiny drop. Mouth open, like a fish out of water, he had tears in his eyes, trying to focus them on me, but gasping desperately.
He couldn't breath. I had knocked the wind out of him, and hard. Good. He was mine, at leisure.
I wanted to punch him but he couldn't stay still in his rolling efforts to overcome the pain in his diaphragm, and take a simple breath. Finally, I grabbed a hold of his neck and twisted him so that I got a clean look at his pretty eyes. I drove a hard right hook into his jaw, broad-siding his head and it spun to the left as far as it would turn. His shoulders even followed the motion a little. He looked stunned and his eyes glazed over after that. His skinny arms tried weakly to push me away. But I grabbed his blond hair on both sides of his head, stood up a bit, and drove my left knee into his face.
I thought he would pass out. I guess he almost did, but instead he laid sprawled out on the floor, too dazed for movement. I think he was using what little consciousness he had to concentrate on breathing thru his open mouth. His nose was broken and draining blood on the floor. His tiny dick shriveled down to the size of my thumb knuckle, just the top one.
It all took less then 20 seconds. He was down for the count and I still had so much rage and adrenalin pumping thru me. I stared down at his bruised, bloodied and naked body on the floor and my dick began to swell.
I can only claim temporary insanity from this point on. I am not a violent person by nature. Nor have I ever had a gay experience. I came here intending to pay for a good time with a woman but I had just been beat and raped. I wanted revenge. I grabbed a condom from my pants, still lying on the sofa. I rolled him on his stomach and sat naked on his lower back. I picked up the copper twist he had used on me and put it to his face. What I had in mind didn't involve getting attention or calling the cops.
"See this?" I said quietly. No response, I could see he was having much trouble breathing thru his nose. I struck him hard on the side of his head and got a whimper and more tears. "Do...you...see...it?" I said, clearly but not much louder. He sucked air in more sharply to answer me. "Good. If you're smart, you'll shut the fuck up, you fucking, bitch-ass faggot rapist." I grabbed my pair of rolled up socks one the floor and stuffed them into his mouth.
I ripped open the condom and put it on. I was fully hard now, almost painfully erect at the anticipation of this act. I lined up my slim 7" and pressed it to his asshole. I held the pointed, jagged tip of the copper wire to his eye. "Don't make a sound, pretty boy!" I said thru gritted teeth.
With that, I tried to jam my cock in his ass. He cried out a muffled shriek. His sphincter was tight and pushing into it hurt my cock. It almost bent. The pain made me furious! "Fuck you, you fucking asshole!" I grunted under my breath and grabbed his hair, yanking his head backwards and drove my cock in his ass as far as it would go. He began to sob as I started reaming his scrawny white ass, fast. I didn't want to enjoy it, I just wanted to cum.
I wanted to beat and humiliate this shit-faced little dickhead for raping me. For ruining my night! I came here to forget about anger and disillusion for a while and this is what the fuck I get?! I am not a cheater! I am not a faggot! I have needs that no one seems willing to satisfy anymore! Well, I'm taking my needs out on this asshole's asshole, right now!
I was fucking his ass hard on the floor for one disgusting minute when he seemed no longer to be sobbing. He was silent. And with each new thrust he seemed to be lifting his ass up a little. I couldn't fucking believe it! The maggot was getting off on this shit! I wanted him in pain not pleasure!
Out of anger, I drove my dick in to the hilt, trying to hurt him, and pulled his head back by his hair. He grimaced, eyes and mouth wide open. "You shithead!" I said, yelling quietly. "You fucking like this shit?! Fuck you!" With that, I pushed his broken face into the carpet. Then I reached behind me, between his legs, found is balls, squeezed them tightly, and pulled them upwards, twisting hard. His muffled scream might have made it past the walls. It was high pitched and painful just to hear. Good!
But then he past out. Fuck! I verified he was breathing and then looked down at the skinny, ugly, body beneath me. Limp like a ragdoll. Fuck! Even his asshole seemed looser. I tried fucking him but it felt shitty. I wanted this asshole awake and in pain. God-dammit! And I was fucking close, too! I can't finish like this! This is bullshit!
All the sudden, I heard a quiet knock on the door and a whisper voice: "James. Let me in!" I pulled out quickly and saw a little blood on the condom. Gross, but somehow satisfying. "James, are you done?"
The gears in my head started turning. Fucking bitch! I stood up; my rage filled hard-on pointing straight toward the blond, fat assed, deceitful bitch on the other side of the door. A thought occurred to me. I had one chance; it was dark in here.
I faked the faggot's high pitched voice in a whisper. "Alright, hurry! Come in!" I said thru the door. I hid behind it and opened it just enough that she could see the dark form on the floor behind the table; so that she had to shimmy thru the door. It took a few moments looking at the body for her to register. And I had enough time to shut the door behind her and size up the scene just right. When she turned around to look at me I drove my fist hard into her gut, just below her ribs. It worked again; I had knocked the wind out of her and in an instant she was on the floor doubled air, searching for breath.
I never let her find it. I shoved her face down and sat on her butt, holding her neck to the floor with my hands. She cried silently for air and squirmed beneath me. I pulled the bloody socks out of the fag's mouth and stuffed them in hers. My eyes ran up and down her near-naked body: "Well looky what we have here." I said, staring at her soft, round ass. She was dressed only in her string bikini again. A few thread-like straps held her tiny top on and a piece of floss disappeared between her round butt cheeks. My tight balls were resting on the bottom of her crack. And like that, my boner was blue steel and begging to fuck a tight asshole again.