Bad Girl's Night Out Ch. 01

I plunged first one, then two blob-coated fingers up her asshole. Truth be told, like a pervert in a dark theater I copped a full-blown feel of her insides; figuring as long as I was there, I could totally give her guts a pervy grope and "feel-around" in all directions. She hissed and MMMM'd shamelessly at my touch, like an old steam radiator in fact before I plucked the same two nasty digits from her nether-chute and deemed her "prepped for action."

With that, Mag's (no stranger to a cock up her crapper) simply back up on her own raging "wall-dong" and pushed the pinkish mushroom head up her corn-hole; all while the gent behind the wall blubbered with excitement no doubt at the knowledge he was now violating some anonymous woman's turd-pussy! She backed up... and up... and up until she'd completely impaled her guts on the shaft; her eyes screwed shut and her mouth a trembling letter "O."

Slowly the OH! became an AH! as her intestines accommodated their new occupant. With that she began to cautiously stroke herself back and forth upon the dong, eventually matching her own pace with that of Nicole's (who by now had a considerably head start and hadn't bothered to wait for her bestie). Rude (but then again, tequila does that).

Both mouths rejoined themselves upon my cock as though nothing had happened, and the ladies continued dining on my corncob. At some point I felt the gorge in my gonads rise and a jet of cum shot forth just in time for Mags to catch it in her cocksucker, only for her to hold it for an instant before passing some to Nicole in a Sapphic kiss. The two passed my goo back and forth for a few seconds before gulping it all down and making "all gone." Without missing a beat, Nicole took my limp biscuit in her kisser and simply held it there for goodness knows how long until I finally felt it stir and for the blood to return. She and Mags then commenced to suck things back to stiffness for another round... what troopers!

The clocked ticked... time passed, and still the evening's events marched on. The two men who blew their nut butter up those two battered buttholes were shortly joined by another pair of unknown dudes. Two cum blasts up two feminine tailpipes later and yet another pair of random men poked their peckers through the holes, raging with thirst and wanting to unload in the two women I was "protecting." It's good to be the protector.

And so it went... and went, and went. The bottle was passed around. My story was still - unwritten. At some point the two women had turned around, sucking cocks recently pulled from their bestie's rectums as two strange dicks spouted down two throats in howling ass to mouth orgasms while I simply watched dumbfounded from the couch.

"Well Bill," Mags said, looking like she had a gallon of cum to burp, "take us home!"

The decision to leave may have been unanimous, but putting it into practice was comically somewhat of an endeavor. Moving to the door would have been simple enough, but I had two thoroughly drunk and equally naked women to deal with. Now that Nicole presently reached into her purse, retrieved some weed and then made a lighter flash before her face the plot had thickened. In no time, she'd made a CBD halo around her head (no doubt to smudge away the demons of sobriety in the room), and all while Maggie plucked two gummies of questionable upbringing from inside her own handbag. Well by then, you might as well have added "stoned to the bone" to the description for both women because within a very short time, THAT was what you had... or more precisely what I had to deal with.

Jeans were pulled on... then off again, as they were realized to be belonging to someone else. Thankfully mine had partially remained on for the whole social gathering and reduced the confusion, other blue-jean owners howled and screamed with laughter over what had happened, falling to the floor in kicking fits before they could resume dressing. Bras and sweaters found themselves in the right place (and on the correct owner), but only after some effort and no small amount of snickers and snorts.

After a few failed attempts to get feet in the proper holes for bottoms to come on bottoms, it was decided by both ladies for feet to merely go back into boots and for bottoms to be somewhat... bare. Panties went into purses and jeans were simply rolled up like newspapers and tucked under arms. Upon inspection I could see Maggie's white sweater would just-barely cover her Venus mound and could arguably be called a wool skirt, provided she didn't pick up a quarter on the floor. Nicole on the other hand had a white-cream colored sweater she'd purposely picked to show off her mid-rift in the strip club... and now was allowing her to show off a bit more. Oh well, perhaps no one would notice the options for natural air-conditioning the pair had opted for... (I couldn't do ANYTHING about the howls and scream and the mad laughter over heaven knows what). I shrugged and unlocking the door and throwing it open.

We moved out into the dark corridor of the seedy club, the lights and disco-balls actually adding a bit of camouflage to Mag's and Nicole's delicate condition. I remember just as we were leaving the room looking back over my shoulder to see two pink cocks at once protrude through the pair of holes. Wicked inspiration overtook me and I shouted loudly back into the room in my best baritone,

"SORRY FELLAHS, I'M CALLING IT A NIGHT!"

Well the way that pair of startled peckers shot back in their perv burrows, it was like two sandworms on the beach disappearing at the approach of a gull. I believe I heard a yelp from behind the panel but it was drowned out by an explosion of laughter by Mags and Nicole, to whom now everything was hysterical anyhow but this was simply volcanic. Well I'd had my fun but it was time to get these two out of this place.

No sooner had we rounded the corner and headed to the door with Nicole and Mags each on my arms, then a chorus of cat calls rose up from back down in the direction of the bar. Three gents were standing in the hallway at the bar's entrance and although things were a bit on the dark side and we'd had the strobes and disco lighting working in our favor, they could still spot two bottomless and witless women on the arms of someone trying to pluck them from the premises. They whistled loudly and shouted something to the effect of "Come on back here girls, the party's just begun" but we didn't turn, we pushed on through the hall, a cloud of reefer stank in our wake like a contrail courtesy of Nicole.

Arriving at the exit, we could have simply mashed the crush bar and opened things to leave, but Mags still had a burr up her ass from the way Danny DeVito earlier had been rude to us, me in particular. Overcome by a fit of mischief she pushed open the side door leading to his office and strode on in, bare ass and all. Mr. DeVito was seated, his desk cluttered with papers and office bric-a-brac but he'd happened to have the very same pornographic film loop playing on a wall-mounted flat TV. In fact, it was the same video we'd seen earlier back in the gloryhole room. He also had a handful of micro-pecker and a look of surprise on his face.

Mags snorted with disgust and a no small amount of derision at his shortcomings. She then hit the door buzzer before making a quick exit and slamming the office door behind her. Laughing like a wild hyena, the madwoman now pushed both me and Nicole forcefully through the open door exit as Mr. DeVito yelled at us; doubtlessly fumbling to get his pants up.

Shocked, doesn't come close to describing the bouncer on the other side of that door, for he looked up from his phone and immediately his eyes went wide. He was about to blurt out SOMETHING but Nicole put a shushing finger to his lips before replacing it with her doobie. He took a puff and smiled. It was like an unwritten code had been recognized by all present. He nodded as if to tell us he wasn't going to give us any grief, (despite the fact that Mr. DeVito was blowing up his phone by now from the heavy metal door's other side). Another one of Maggie's illicit gummies from out of her purse was popped into his mouth and a deal of sorts was sealed.

Mr. Bouncer leaned with the full weight of his Incredible Hulk physique against that door. He struck a pose with his arms crossed and the blunt still stuck in his lips (blocking a raging Mr. DeVito who pounded and banged on the door and generally raged). All the while Nicole and Mags posed with bare bottoms to either side of him, running hands here there and everywhere about his body and at one point, slipping their hand into his pants for a quick grope.

Naturally based on my previous experience that night with cameras, I busied myself snapping photos using the man's phone. He let us get up the steps and well out of sight into the pitchy darkness beyond before he let Mr. DeVito out that front door; providing the excuse something HAD TO BE wrong with the door and it ought to be checked.

I looked back over my shoulder. I could see the feint glow of the light below the stairs, but the rants of Mr. DeVito were even fainter; becoming finally silent when the door slammed shut again, (presumably because he'd stormed inside and left his bouncer sporting a big self-contented smirk). We were long gone by then, up those steps and well into the vastness of the abandoned (if not scandalously re-purposed), warehouse.

To Be Continued...