Big Mack Pt. 04

She laughed. The mechanic had a dark sense of humour. And he sounded much more intelligent than she'd given him credit for.

"Gonna put a record on," the emo declared, throwing his FWB's feet off his lap. "Any requests?"

"Not Led Zep," replied the tradie. "Play something I won't know. Play something I've never heard before."

The emo's eyes smiled through his hair. "Challenge accepted."

"Sisters," volunteered the goth. Yoshi found his vinyl copy of 'Floodland', and within seconds, the sound of bright, chiming guitars, dark, brooding bass, and an insistent, metronomic drum machine pounded from the speakers.

"Who's this?" asked the mechanic.

"Sisters of Mercy," Amelia replied. "Classic goth. English. From 1988, I think."

The mechanic did the maths: she wasn't even close to being alive when this record came out. Still, he wasn't alive himself when the Beatles and the Stones ruled the world, and they were two of his favourite bands ever, so ...

Yoshi broke the mechanic's train of thought by handing him the record cover. So much black. Darkness, aviator sunglasses, and a brightly lit moon. The music sounded serious.

A lighthouse keeper in the desert sun.

They sat in silence, drinking, listening as Mother Russia rained down.

"So you gave tonight's gig a miss?" probed the tradie.

On the chess board, the king's pawn advanced two squares forward.

"Yeah," Amelia replied, her feet having since landed in her FWB's lap again. "I guess we weren't feeling it. We had a big night last night, and sometimes it's better to just spend time at home. Cost of living crisis. Rent and groceries aren't getting any cheaper." She concentrated on the feel of her boyfriend's fingers on her toes.

The opposing knight landed in front of the bishop's pawn.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," said the mechanic, sipping his beer. "Shit's expensive these days, hey." He was renting for the first time in years, while still servicing half a mortgage.

With a start, the emo remembered tonight's meal. "I need to go to the bathroom for a sec." He detoured through his bedroom to collect the necessary equipment.

The record played on. Lucretia, my reflection, dance the ghost with me.

Mack tried hard not to stare at the goth chick's tits, but they drew his eyes like a magnet. He wondered if they were tatted or pierced. She noticed his gaze.

"It's OK," she said.

Busted. "Huh?"

"It's OK," she explained. "I don't mind. I get it all the time. I'm used to it."

Mack played dumb. "I don't know what you mean."

She laughed. "Yeah, you do. Come on, dude, you're totally staring at my tits. Like I said, I don't mind. I know they're big. I know guys like 'em." She paused for a second. "And women like 'em, too," she teased.

Mack wasn't sure what to say. He sipped his beer, keeping his thoughts to himself for now. His cock thickened in his jeans.

The emo returned after an elongated absence, just in time to turn the record over. His hole was squeaky clean, ready to be boinked as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

He sat back down, drinking his wine as his girlfriend plonked her feet back into his lap. He rubbed her toes and soles, but after pumping warm water up his arse, his mind was, quite understandably, focused elsewhere. "What were you two talking about while I was away?"

"Not much," smiled the goth. "Caught him staring at my boobs, though."

"Sorry about that," apologised the mechanic.

"They're nice, hey?" said the emo, leaning across the couch to cop a sweet feel. "Better than a late night tit-search on SBS?"

"Anything's better than that level of desperation," the mechanic replied. He felt horny, and he knew he was here for sex, but he was a guest, and it wasn't up to him to light the fuse. His host was about to do that job for him instead.

Without warning, Yoshi stood up and sat on the mechanic's lap like he was Santa Claus. "You're getting the hornies staring at her fat goth tiddies, aren't you? You wanna know what they look like, don't you? And you wanna know what they feel like, hey? Bet you'd love to suck on 'em, too," he teased. "But it's me you wanna fuck, isn't it daddy?"

For half a second, the mechanic's gaze flitted towards the goth, but Yoshi reached into Mack's beard, grabbed his chin, and forcefully pulled focus back to himself. "No, big guy, not her. Me. You wanna fuck me, don't you?"

The mechanic gulped, nodding shallowly.

"That's right, daddy," soothed the emo.

Amelia's pussy twitched. Her thighs felt warm.

Yoshi ran his fingertips through Santa's thick ginger beard. "But first, let me tell you what I want for Christmas." He bounced up and down on Santa's lap, seductively biting his pierced bottom lip. "Your beard is the wrong colour, by the way," he pouted, "but I'll pretend I didn't notice. Should be whiter."

The mechanic's cock grew, straining against the zipper of his jeans. His gaze drowned in the emo's dark brown eyes.

Yoshi placed a bratty finger on his pierced bottom lip as if deep in contemplation. "Ummm, well, for Christmas, first I want a skateboard, and a new tattoo and maybe some records too, but what I really want, more than anything in the whole world, is a big fat dick stretching my tight, warm pussy." His eyes widened as he felt the mechanic's meat pressing against his arse. "Ooh, I can feel your cock. I know Christmas is still months away, but am I gonna get one of my presents early?" He wrapped an arm around Mack's thick neck. "And I know what you want for Christmas, too. You want my pussy, don't you? You liked the pic I sent you this morning, didn't you?"

The mechanic nodded. He'd jerked off to it.

Yoshi leaned in close enough to kiss the mechanic. Mack felt the emo's warm breath caress his beard. "Naughty Santa," he whispered.

The emo continued running his fingers through Santa's thick red beard. If the pierced freak kept this up, the mechanic would cream his jeans.

"Do you want something else before you fuck my pussy?" Yoshi teased, still bouncing up and down on the mechanic's lap. "Maybe you want my throat first?" He opened his mouth and let his tongue flop out -- the universal sign that says 'fuck my face'.

"Oh my god," whispered the mechanic. He couldn't ever remember feeling this aroused in his entire life, not even with his wife. He felt lightheaded with lust. His whole body was tingling, aflame.

Yoshi's FWB couldn't believe what she was witnessing. Last night was off the chart, but this was next level. Her cunt was dripping like a busted tap.

"You want my slutty throat, don't you, daddy? It's OK, you don't have to say anything. I already know you do. I can tell."

The emo kneeled between the mechanic's thighs and began unbuckling his pants. A fat, pulsing dick slapped him in the face. "Looks tasty, daddy." He ran his tongue across the tip of the thick slab of meat, slurping up a pearl of precum. "Ooh, it *is* tasty," he teased.

Yoshi sucked the head of Mack's cock into his mouth and began slowly bobbing up and down. The mechanic sighed, his head lolling back on the armchair. "Fuck, daddy," moaned the emo.

Amelia's hand was up her purple skirt, fingering her hungry, swollen snatch.

"Lift your bum up," said the emo, "so I can pull your jeans down." Mack complied, and Yoshi stared at the whole package before sucking one of the mechanic's enormous cumtanks into his mouth. The mechanic closed his eyes, feeling the emo's hungry tongue devouring his balls. He felt a smattering of butterfly kisses flit across his muscular inner thighs before the emo's attention returned to his engorged shaft.

The emo sucked and slurped slowly, stroking the thickening shaft with his hand, tickling the mechanic's full balls. Mack had no idea how he'd lasted this long without exploding.

Eventually, Yoshi he stopped bobbing, holding Mack's dick motionless in his mouth. He waited to see how the mechanic would respond.

The king's bishop moved diagonally, two squares to the left.

He felt the mechanic's hips come to life as his cock began thrusting upwards into his open jaw. "Yeah, daddy, that's it," mumbled the emo. "Fuck my face."

Mack's firm, heavy hands landed on the back of Yoshi's floppy hair, holding his head in place. His hips went into overdrive as he began to skullfuck the emo's face. Yoshi gagged; his eyes watered and his nose leaked. He tapped a hand on the back of his head, indicating he needed to take a breath, and Mack released his grip.

Yoshi looked up at the mechanic, gasping for air. His face was a mess -- spit and snot were smeared across his mouth, cheeks and chin. His jaw gaped wide open as he looked through watering eyes at the mechanic's fat cock, glistening with his saliva.

Amelia was mesmerised. Fuck, her FWB was such a cockslut. She thought about all the times they'd had sex. She knew he was bi, but she had no idea he was such a whore for cock. Last night and tonight were like portals to a new dimension, and she loved it.

Yoshi went back for round two. "Do that again, daddy," he said. "Choke your whore." He sucked the mechanic's fat weapon back into his throat.

The goth chick moaned, cumming all over her hand.

Mack barely even registered the goth chick's presence. All he could see was the emo's hungry face, all he could feel was his throat choking around his iron shaft, and all he could hear was the sound of the emo's throat as he gagged. Again, he held the emo's face in place and began thrusting upwards into it. He heard the emo gag and cough, but he didn't stop.

"You like this?" asked the mechanic.

The emo burbled something.

The goth flicked her trembling bean and screamed, squirting across the room.

Yoshi tapped the mechanic's hands again, and the grip was released. He took a few deep breaths.

Mack looked at him, feeling slightly concerned. He'd seen scenes like this in porn, but he'd never forced anyone to choke on his dick. He'd heard about safewords, but he'd never needed to have a conversation that involved one. For now, the feeling of the emo's hands tapping on the back of his head was the signal he needed. "You OK?" he asked.

Tears streamed down the emo's cheeks as he swallowed air. "Fuck, daddy, you're so big. I love my early Christmas present."

"Oh my god, Yoshi," said the goth. He looked like a wet mess, but she'd never seen anything hotter in her life. "Suck that fucking dick. Swallow it again. You look so hot choking on his fat meat."

Yoshi wiped tears away with the back of his hand, smiling at her. He looked back at his daddy. "Choke me again," he pleaded.

The mechanic forced his cock back into the emo's throat, fucking his face, making him gag. He wondered how much more of this punishment the emo could take. He let go of the emo's skull and lifted his face away.

Yoshi sucked in air. His face was soaked as he looked up at the mechanic. Spit, tears and snot dripped off his chin. His jaw gaped open, still hungry for meat. He wanted more. And he was gonna get it, just not in his throat.

Mack picked Yoshi up by his skinny hips, moving him to the floor in the middle of the room. Like a puppeteer, he forced him to his knees, then to all-fours. "Just like that, punk," he said. He threw his boots off and tossed his jeans aside. The denim landed softly on the couch.

The mechanic spat on the emo's arsehole, smearing the viscous liquid around with his fingertips. He spat again. And again. And again. His fingertips circled the emo's pussy, and as he forced one digit in, then a second, he heard the emo moan. He watched the freak's smallish uncut dick begin to stiffen.

Mack's rock-hard cock was glistening with so much moisture he probably could've fucked the emo dry, but he wanted to fuck him with his thick fingers first.

Yoshi looked back over his shoulder. He was ready. "You gonna fuck your punk whore now, daddy?"

Hearing the emo's words, Mack nearly came.

Amelia drenched her hand. She wished she had a dildo to fuck herself with. She wanted to feel deep penetration, and she knew Yoshi had a stash of plastic, but she didn't know where he kept it.

The mechanic gripped the emo's hips and pressed the head of his wet penis against his juicy, inviting hole. "Fuck my slutty pussy, daddy," he heard, and it took every fibre of Mack's being not to nut.

The mechanic pushed himself in, and Yoshi's jaw gaped. "Fuck, daddy, you feel so good inside me," he whispered, glancing over his shoulder. "Thank you for my early Christmas present. You're so big."

Suddenly, Amelia craved cock. Not just plastic, but flesh and blood. She fell to the floor and crawled under her FWB, sucking him into her mouth. One hand was on Yoshi's dick while the other mashed her clit. Above her head, she watched the mechanic's strong hips pounding her semi-boyfriend's tight pussy. She sucked Yoshi hard, flicking her tongue across the head of his cock, teasing his foreskin. She watched his back arch and heard him moan. She felt his seed spilling into her mouth, and she swallowed hard, touching herself. She came again.

And as he drenched his FWB's tongue, Yoshi's anus began to twitch, his sphincter rhythmically tightening and releasing around the mechanic's shaft. Amelia felt the mechanic's thrusts change shape, and she knew he was close.

She crawled out from underneath her FWB. She knelt next to him, stroking his face, the taste of his load still in her mouth. She gazed at Yoshi's blissful face as the mechanic roared, his cumtanks firing bolt after bolt of semen into his digestive tract. His pussy convulsed again, coaxing even more sperm out of the mechanic's fat shaft.

The goth watched as the mechanic withdrew his weapon from Yoshi's tight pussy. The emo farted, and the mechanic's thick load dripped out of his spent, gaping pussy.

The room fell silent. The mechanic was drenched in sweat and the emo's face was a dripping mess.

"Let me get a towel," offered the goth. She rummaged through her FWB's cupboard and found what looked like an old towel. It was probably a cumrag. She gave it a sniff; at least it smelled clean. She brought it back to the room. "Here you go, babe," she said, and once Yoshi had wiped the smears of spit and mucus from his destroyed face and neck, he wiped his pussy. He stood up and took the towel to the laundry. He tossed it into the hamper.

"You OK, punk?" asked the mechanic.

"Yeah ... and thanks for asking. But I might take a quick shower. I'll be fast. I ... need to ... wash my face. I'm a bit messy."

With Yoshi out of the room, things had the potential to get awkward for the mechanic and the goth. Mack's jeans were splayed on the couch, and his cock was on full display. Amelia couldn't help noticing that, even spent, his dick was bigger than any other cock she'd ever seen. Mack glanced nervously at her, trying hard not to stare at the twin peaks concealed beneath her black t-shirt. He wasn't paying any attention to her while he was busy fucking the punk, but the wetness on the floorboards told a story -- she'd fapped while she watched them.

They heard the shower running. Amelia broke the silence. "Hey, let's check out his record collection while he's gone," she smiled.

"Good idea," agreed Mack, thankful for something to do to pass the time. "But haven't you ever rustled through his collection before?"

"Not properly," replied the goth. "I know some of his records, the ones he plays regularly when I'm here, but I've never looked through them all." She smiled again. "Now's a good a time as any."

She got on her hands and knees and began looking through the spines of her FWB's record collection. Mack watched her chubby arse, mesmerised. He was still naked from the waist down, and he willed himself not to bone up.

Most of the emo's vinyl met with Amelia's approval. Bauhaus, My Chemical Romance, Kraftwerk, Bloc Party, the Cure. She found some early records by Hunters and Collectors: fuck, Yoshi had exquisite taste.

"Found anything incriminating?" Mack quizzed.

Amelia pulled a suspicious record out of the collection. "What the fuck is *this*?" she asked rhetorically. She held up a well-worn copy of Cliff Richard's 'Wired For Sound'.

Mack shook his head. "Not cool," he agreed.

They heard the shower turn off. Yoshi said he'd be fast; he said he was mainly washing his face. "Quick," said the mechanic, "put it on!"

Amelia smiled devilishly. Delicately, she extracted the vinyl from the sleeve, placed the record on the turntable, and lined up the tonearm.

The emo emerged from the bathroom and walked back to the living area.

"I like small speakers, I like tall speakers / If they've music, they're wired for sound..."

Amelia and Mack flowered into spontaneous dance. "I forgot to bring my Walkman tonight," laughed the goth.

"And I left my rollerskates at home," grinned the mechanic. They'd both seen the classic video on 'Rage' many times before.

The emo threw his head back in delight. "My grandma bought that record for seven bucks when it first came out. She played it all the time, and she gave it to me a few years before she died. I kept it for two reasons. One, to honour her memory, and secondly, because I knew this day would come -- that cunts like you two would go through my collection when my back was turned, looking for a cheap shot. So well done," he laughed, "you found it. But if you plan on listening to the whole album, be warned. You'll tap out halfway through the third song. It's death."

Moments later, as Cliff crooned his way through 'Better Than I Know Myself', the goth knew her FWB was right. "This is fucking terrible," she declared. She put two fingers on her tongue as if intending to vomit.

Mack shook his head. "This is worse than Bon Jovi, dude. This is a war crime."

Yoshi hung his head comically in mock-shame. "Somebody get me a glass of cat's piss," he laughed. Amelia visited the kitchen and came back with two glasses of white wine -- one each.

Mack opened another beer, and they sat back down. The Cliff Richard record was still playing.

"Turn it off, dude," pleaded Amelia, "this isn't funny anymore."

"But I don't remember putting it on in the first place," volleyed the emo.

Her shoulders slumped. She stood up, mercifully retracting the stylus from the surface of the vinyl. Carefully, she put Cliff back in his sleeve, hopefully never to be played again. In its place, she dropped the needle on Depeche Mode's 'Violator'.

All three of them knew this classic record. They kicked back, listening as they drank.

It was approaching eleven o'clock, way past the mechanic's usual bedtime, but two cans of Red Bull consumed in the late afternoon had given him wings. He wasn't tired. He was happy enough to sit here a while longer, listening to records, talking and drinking, but he hoped something else might happen. He couldn't help glancing at the goth's huge tits. His weapon was recharged, ready to go again. He looked across at the emo. He'd already wrecked his throat and his pussy tonight, but given half a chance, he'd do it again.

This time, he lit the fuse himself. He unzipped his pants, reached inside, and flopped it out. His large, flaccid cock hung loose on the outside of his jeans.

The goth stared at the thick piece of meat that skewered her boyfriend just an hour or so ago. Mack lifted it up, held it in his fist, and let it slap back down. He smiled at her. He knew she wanted it.

Amelia crawled across to the armchair where the mechanic was sitting. She knelt down in front of him, reaching up to touch his slab for the first time. The mechanic might not have been her type, but his cock was.

"You can stroke it if you want," Mack offered, and her brown eyes and lipsticked mouth told him all he needed to know.

She could smell him. A strange mix of hard work, sweat, and something else she couldn't quite place.

"Hey babe," hollered the emo, "does his dick smell like my pussy?"