Bushwick Swap Meat

The blond gymnast was back. Her face had a way of being plain, non-descript, and milky yet the emotion behind the face was intense and pushy. "C'mon, let's go," she cheered us on. She definitely wasn't going to leave until it was her turn. She slipped his finger in between his butt cheeks as well, but she went deeper. I could feel the sudden jolt of his hips penetrating me harder and deeper. I knew she was knuckle-deep in his butthole. He didn't protest but worked my loins a lot harder. She stood right next to us. The breaths of us three were mingling. I could feel her wiggle her finger around and deeper into his butt hole. His action became ever more feverish. Sweat broke out on his chest. He turned slippery wet like a fish fresh out of water. At this point, she drilled his butthole mercilessly. He was clearly very turned on by being with two women. I felt a bit taken aback, but I held onto being the receptible of his cum.

He froze. His mouth stuck open, wheezing in the air like unable to inhale but trying to survive. I felt that familiar pulse and following wetness inside of me. The blond gymnast held her finger still because she knew that he was sensitive now. She pushed me off the moment, she thought he was done. I was still right there when she kneeled down and sucked my juices off his dick. I carefully cupped my pussy from losing his juices. I felt woozy standing on my own after having stood so long.

I saw a woman who looked like a physics major, a nerd - plain face, no boobs, and a very weird haircut. The insides of her thighs were coated very thickly with juices running all the way down and into her socks. She was searching for her pair of pants on the floor. She was barefoot. She was feeling around in the darkness. She squat-walked in between the couples having sex. I could sense that the first people were starting to leave. There was a bit more space. There was a Latina who was built square like a fridge, leaning against the wall to catch her bearings. She was completely out of it from having had sex. I could feel that I had liquid on my toes. And someone had shot cum on the back of my blouse. I felt equally exposed and strong for being bottomless.

The drive to collect sperm started wearing off as I felt other women around me sobering up from the intoxicated, competitive lust for sperm. I bent down as well to feel the floor for my pants. The floor was dusty, rough, and uneven. And then I found blotches of cum. I had to keep searching despite the nefarious cum all over the floor. I couldn't ride the subway back bare-bottomed. So I kept searching. I found someone else's pink panties, trampled flat and darkened by dirt. I found a flip-flop with pink unicorn prints and torn buckles. I found a Forever 21 black skirt with sparkles woven in that was ripped up at the backside for a few inches long. My fingertips grew black from the grime dissolved by cum. I kept squat-walking around people having sex. While down there, I watched the eyes of a girl on her back being fucked by one guy while a masturbating guy caressed her hair. There was something helpless and submissive in her eyes that enchanted me.

I found my slacks and panties. They had been rolled into a bunch and then trampled flat. There were shoe prints and heel prints on them. The grime of the floor was rubbed into it. It seemed like someone had used as a bundle to wipe pussy or dick juice off of someone. They felt disgusting, cold, and wet to slip into, but I needed them to get home. As I sealed my pussy as best as I could with my panties to keep the seed in as long as I could, I felt a sense of accomplishment spread over me. I had done pretty well. My hunt had been quite successful in collecting baby-making material. There was a pretty good chance that I had a tiny single-celled baby inside of me. Victory always tastes sweeter when you have to get your hands dirty.

As I stepped into the staircase up, I saw the light at the end of it. I felt an enigmatic draw of it like I was coming out of a mystical experience. I moved towards it. With every step, I felt the energy of that basement falling more and more away from me. I slipped back into my normal mode of operation. The armor that I carry in the city snapped back into place. I felt like I again became that cold bitch that didn't let anyone come close - even though I never felt like that before. I had always felt friendly, but after that experience, I also suddenly felt that I had never allowed anyone to come really close to me.

The air was cool and further solidified my calm and fleeting intoxication. I saw the other people again in their familiar street clothing, everyday-average posture, and in their usual masks. We walked apart in the distance, black silhouettes in the street light. When we waited on the bright subway platform, I scanned their clothes to find the dark spots, white crusts, and torn holes. They were signs that what I had been through was real. The semen slowly soaked into my panties, feeling them with spreading wetness. I hope that one of those swimmers stayed deep enough and is fighting for his dear life to reach my waiting oocyte.