Decatur Street Swap Meat

Rosalita knew that a mad scramble for the best men would break out now. She turned to the swimmer guy and shot her pre-planned words out as fast as she could, "Sir, may I please have your baby?" She looked at him with innocence and youth. Reality was supposed to tear apart now and turn into the fairytale that she had imagined. The man didn't move. Looking fully into hs face, she realized how pretty his face was. She was mesmerized by how the skin on his face was so white that it seemed to have a translucent layer.

"I'm so sorry, sir!" she apologized. She assumed that it was her mistake. She quickly reached under her skirt to pull the black thong down into view, roll it over her legs, and struggle it free over her black patent leather shoes. Then she put it into her backpack and out of the way. Of course, she must have been holding things up by not giving him access.

The guy looked dazed at how easily he had been offered access. He shook his head to get rid of his hesitations. He so clearly could simply go for inserting his penis into her. It would feel so good. She was a cute one in a not-obvious way. She didn't draw a lot of attention, but all the signs of youth in her skin, hair, body shape, and facial expressions made her very tantalizing.

She was a bit short. He tried to squat lower, but it was still awkward. He was a beautiful 6' 1" tall, which had helped him win swimming competitions. So being practical, he simply swept her up in her arms and laid her on her back. She didn't like being on the filthy floor. She didn't like being where people couldn't see her in the black and where they could trample her. Because she was so short, people frequently oversaw her and ran into her. It was very unpleasant.

She saw that she was at the level of people's shoes: male loafers and feminine heels. She got to look up at pant legs and dresses from below. But the swimmer man was so strong, she had no way to protest. And he had already slipped into her. Oh, his package was so big. She was fully stressed out. She wanted to protest that he was too big. But she was scared to move because any movement might have caused her to overstretch. And she could barely tolerate his size.

Becoming aroused had never figured into her daydreams. She had been so focused on the baby visions. It had been so long and rare when she had had sex in her life that it wasn't her everyday thought. Yet she felt tasty sensations rising up in her body. She felt moisture developing in her pussy.

She was often locked in her head and thoughts. Being drawn into her body nature of feeling things and specifically pleasure was so unexpected. It was a bit overwhelming. It was a bit scary. It felt a bit unfamiliar. She was feeling into it to come to terms to what was going on with her. And all that gave him time to slide his penis in and out of her.

Her small hands pressing against his belly for fear of getting overstretched gently softened as she started feeling good and her pussy stretched out to relax around his big penis. As she relaxed to letting things happen, her eyes wandered to the scenes around her. Whatever she could see where only dark gray shadows in the light.

Most of the people were having sex standing. She could see the pussies and penises sliding. People barely had taken clothes off, the mere minimum to get access. There were two women who took it from behind. In the distance behind the forest of legs, she could see another woman on the floor. She was on her hands and knees. At least, she wasn't alone on the filthy floor.

The guy was panting into her face. The air caressed her face. The smell of his milky, sour stomach content entered her nose. His eyes were rolled a bit back. He was already glistening from sweat. He was masturbating inside of her. He wasn't trying to give her pleasure. He was fully focused on rubbing his dick in the ways that he got the most pleasure out of it and chasing towards an orgasm. He was merely using her as a flesh sock. He was obsessed with his penis and her pussy. He rubbed himself inside of her so intensely and furiously.

The men who had lost the competition became evident. They were standing without a partner. They weren't as pretty. They weren't as well dressed. They had weird and awkward postures. She felt like she had done well by being so prepared and going directly for what she wanted. Her guy was definitely a winner. Those were good genes that he was cooking up in his balls to inject in her.

And then she observed how the first loser guy pulled his hard cock out of his pants and started masturbating. He was watching a couple having sex very intently. He masturbated without shame. And the masturbation spread among almost all the loser guys. There were dozens of men standing with their dicks in their hands, hips slouched back, and chin shooting forward while they intently picked a couple to watch unabashedly. Not only were the loser guys undesirable but their act was disgusting to her.

She absolutely didn't like when one of those masturbators kneeled down next to her head, high on his heels, and furious hand action on his cock. The eye of the cock aimed towards her face. She tried to push his knee away, but her weak arms had no impact on the weight of a grown man. Her guy was too intent on fucking her. She whimpered, "Nooooo!" but the masturbating guy ignored her. His eyes steely locked on her with ghostly, dead eyes that were seeing into the ethereal netherworld.

A second guy noticed her on the floor. He kneeled down on the other side of her head to assume the same masturbation position. She tried to push him away, and whimpered, "Go away!" Yet when he felt the pressure of her hand a strong as a spring drizzle on his face, he ignored her and used her as masturbation material.

Not long, a third and fourth guy joined the circle around here by kneeling next to her belly. She looked at the faces that had a discombobulated look like the Great Rapture had lifted their souls to heaven. They used her in the most lewd way and she couldn't help it. But at least, the swimmer guy was coming closer to orgasm. His breathing was already short and raspy.

The Japanese woman whom she had seen enter the building ahead of her pushed in between the tow masturbating guys on her left. She had no qualms about touching and pushing on the masturbating guys to get space. Then she grabbed her swimmer guy's arm with both her hands while squatting. "His mine when you are done with him," she said with small but determined voice and strong Japanese accent. Rosalita could look up the Versace dress of the woman. She was unshaven, but her pubic hair was so sparse and thin that it resembled the first growth of a boy. Semen was dripping out of her.

That was one cue for Rosalita. From the mutterings, she had heard that women were going for seconds and thirds. At first, it seemed silly to her because she knew her first choice. However, then it dawned on her that they were talking about the fertility rate. The first guy might not have swimmers that reach her egg. Or the semen may slip out too early. So women were getting more semen donations in to increase their chances that at least one guy's semen got them pregnant. Rosalita started replying her mental video of the guys whom she had inspected to choose her number two.

"Fuck!" the swimmer guy screamed in her face with spit flying. He was coming with a hard orgasm. He started screaming, roaring, and droning into her face. His spit was flying over her entire face as a gentle mist of tiny drops. Her ear drums were vibrating from the high volume. "I've never come this hard in my life. You are so hot!!!!!" he screamed at her. "Fuck! Fuck! You are making me come so hard that my balls themselves are shooting out of my cock! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" And then she felt the pulse of his seed quirting into her belly: Once, twice, three times, four times, and he squeezed his cock really hard to wring every last bit of the fifth squirt out of her. "I don't know if you are an angel or a demon, but sex with you was out of this world!" She took that as a compliment. The Japanese lady dragged the limp swimmer guy away.

"Whom do we get you next?" asked the masturbator at her head eagerly while pausing to masturbate. "We'll get you any guy," he promised.

It clicked for her. She could simply say and these creepy guys would help her. With a meek voice, she asked for "the white guy, with the brown tweet jacket, hole in the left elbow, the round wireframe glasses..."

"I see the guy!" said another masturbator, who had stopped masturbating to look at her face with big eyes to find out what was next on their menu of masturbation material. He quickly got up. It took him a couple of minutes until the professor guy was free. The two minutes felt extremely long. The remaining three masturbation guys had stopped masturbating, but their eyes were running over her butt with thirsty looks. They all liked to stare at her pussy. They carefully investigated the shape of her bra under her blouse to imagine her titties bare. They canvased her face as if their hungry tongues were trying to slober all over it, lips, cheeks, ears, and nose. They were so lewd in how they viewed her as a sex object, but she waited quietly - enduring to get the one prize that she was looking for a smart scientist baby!

The masturbator returned with the professor guy behind him. The professor had been in such a rush that he had only pulled his pants up to under his butt cheeks. His dick was still hanging out. It was a small dick and it was limp. His pubic hair was completely unkempt - an unruly, dirty bunch. His face looked disheveled like a professor getting lost in his lecture. He had quite the belly. His clothes was poorly cut. There was so much extra fabric everywhere. He was so flustered and lost. His penis was soft and not ready to go.

The masturbators encouraged her to sit up by guiding her shoulders up. They evidently wanted her to suck him off. She refused looking at the pussy juices of the other woman glistening on his dick. The professor guy looked around uneasy like he was needed elsewhere. "C'mon, get him hard before he finds someone else. He's all yours!"

She had been used to do when people told her what to do. So she leaned forward and took the professor guy's penis between her thumb and index finger. It was so squishy! The professor looked down on her uneasy but with a devilish grin about the prospect that he'd get her to suck him off! Then she dove for it. She took the jelly in a skin bag into her mouth. The taste of fish was so strong on this one - like rancid three-day-old tuna. "Good girl," her little support group cheered her on. The professor smiled overhappy at her struggle and display of bone-deep disgust on her face. The power dynamics between them changed. They bonded together over guiding her and realized that they could make her do stuff. Also her arousal from the sex before and the exhaustion from fighting her disgust down made her weak and pliable.

When the professor's dick had become semi-hard, she laid back on the grimy floor. This time, she laid down willingly. She simply wanted to get back to that space where nobody bothered her except the penis giving her tingly good feelings. The professor guy struggled a bit getting his penis in. Every time, he tried to push, his penis would bend and spring the other way but her opening. Yet, all that sliding around of his penis head on her ejaculate-moistened pussy lips got him fully hard. And he managed to slip in. He rested his weight on top of her. He felt heavier because he didn't have the strength of the swimmer to rest on his forearms. She was getting squished.

The masturbator drew closer to her. Their cocks only being a foot from her body. The interaction of finding her the number two guy seemed to have given them the permission in their mind to participate more. The masturbator to the left of her head, reached for her hair and started caressing her head while he masturbated with the other hand. Then the guy masturbating on the other side of her head, started exploring her hair as well. They were gentle touches full of respect and adoration. The guys next to her belly started roaming on her body and finally dared to explore her boobs. All were very soft touches, barely caressing her body. But the four hands started curiously and engaged exploring her body. She couldn't keep track of the individual hands. She started feeling touched all over.

The professor guy with his short dick had a hard time penetrating her well. His big pot belly was in the way. So he got his knees under him, and pulled her up into his lap to penetrate her while he was sitting and had the pot belly in front of him. Without him lying on top of him, the roaming hands had more freedom. They roamed more intently. They started slipping under her blouse and over her bra. She pushed against one hand. Another hand would take her wrist and guide it away. With both hands, she tried to move their hands away, but each time she moved one hand, three others were eagerly caressing her from somewhere else. They had lost their restraint but weren't going all wild on her yet.

One of the guys came. He shot his load into her hair. She tried to get it out of her hair but only spread it more. Her fingers got wet and icky. A guy at her belly came from watching her and shot his loud on her blouse. A big dark blotch spread out around her mid-ribs. The two spent guys got up. Two new guys immediately took their place kneeling to pet their fresh boners. She realized that there was a circle of men around her. They were watching what was happening to her. Apparently, they were eager to take a spot when one freed up. She felt exposed and under the control of a mob.

The professor guy came pretty quickly inside of her, having already unloaded once, he only had a couple of spurts for her. He got up and was quickly pulled away by a tall, domineering blond in her forties with lots of diamond rings, necklaces, and bracelets and extremely high red heels.

A chubby, partially bald Indian guy - looking like a bodega worker - asked insistently of her: "Do you want me next?"

She was intoxicated from it all, had lost her decorum, and burst out, "No, you are dirty!"

The guy was very upset, but a black guy, who is best described as a dirty ass nigger - a basketball jersey, weird haircut, and a face like he was up to no good and couldn't change a light bulb, asked her, "How about me? Can I fuck that fine cunt of yours?" The guy asked in the most nasty way with a strong subcontext that he thought of her as a disposable slut that he'd brag to his boys about how hard he'd banged her.

"No, black guys," she denied him.

She liked it much better when she could ask for her choice. So she insisted, "I want the guy with the suit and the purple velvet cufflinks!"

Two guys went immediately dashing into the dark of the crowd. She lay on her back. She hoped that none of the guys were going to do anything to her. They were all very hungry and very heated up. She listened into the room. The slapping noises were consistent and moist. The moans were guttural. The high-pitched yelping of some women was frenzied. She looked around. More people were on the ground from discomfort of having standing sex, but most people still tried to stand on the filthy ground rather than be on it. Clothes had been more liberally discarded. She saw the bare butts and legs of pantless guys. She saw women lifting one bare leg in a crotched position while standing on the other to give their guy more access. She saw a couple of women kneeling and sucking off their guy to get him hard again. One woman who looked like a school teacher (tall, long hair, and a plain face) screamed out, "Woohoo! Four down! Three to go!" Another woman stood up in disgust after her blow job couldn't get her spent guy hard. She turned around to look for another guy.

All around Rosalita were hard cocks out in the open. The men slowly stroked them to keep them hard but just enough to keep the journey to orgasm as long as possible for when Rosalita was going to get fucked.

When the finance VP came, he carried a cloud of power. The masturbators and waiting guys around her, all slipped a little bit away, like cockroaches scared by the light. They were all daunted by him. He moved slowly. He owned the space around him. From her vantage point of lying on the floor, she looked up at the guy. He was overweight, but the weight was distributed on his body to make him a big guy rather than a flabby guy. His pants were gone. She looked up his curly haired legs all the way to his two balls dangling easily in a large scrotum bag. His cock was still hard. It was medium sized. Liquid (his seed, pussy juice, or the seed of the guy who came in the woman before her) were running down the length of his shaft and dripping of his balls. He didn't care anything about how he spilled the liquid on the floor.

The top of his body was still dressed in the sharp dress shirt, the jacket, and tigh. It still gave him the power aura that his power clothing bestowed on him. He wasn't waiting. He was simply moving in his own time, which gave her time to take him in.

That face looked so weathered and so resolute. She knew that he had broken many men in his corporate crusades. He wasn't going to take any resistance. He'd snap any of the other men around her. She knew that he'd ignore her protests. There'd be no one to turn to claim her right. She had asked for more than she could handle, but now it was too late to turn back. She was also awed that someone like her paid any attention to her. He slowly got on his knees.

He grabbed one of her ankles to pull the leg into the air and lift her butt cheek. With the other hand, he slapped her butt cheek to send a loud thud into the room. Her group of suitors flinched at the sound. She was unsure of what would happen next but knew that she had to submit to his power. Anything the slightest unpleasant to him would have very unpleasant consequences for her.

"Nice," he said upraising her butt cheeks from the slap. That "nice" carried so much information in the sound of it. It said that he had had many women whom he had done much more to. It said that he had a rich sampling of women bodies in his privileged life, and she was doing quite well. It said that he appreciated her but that he was going to have her way with her how he wanted rather than simply donate his sperm into her womb. She was still in so much awe looking at that face that was so big, so furrowed, and so resolute.

"Take this off!" he commanded to the crowd, circling her chest. Like overly eager servants, their hands descended on her to pop the buttons of her blouse. There were about six hands working the blouse button. There were two hands searching for the zipper of her skirt. She couldn't defend against the melee of hands on her body. She was naked within ten seconds. Her clothes were thrown somewhere into the darkness under the feet of the other people. Her nipples were curled together into hard bunches. "Keep the socks and shoes on," he stopped his subservient minions. "That's kinky!" They nodded agreeing with him. "She's a real kinky bitch so naked with her stockings on," agreed one of them to be quickly shocked that he had spoken when he shouldn't have. They all stayed at rapt attention to what he would ask of them next.

He slapped his fat cock on her pussy hard as to pound the claim to the pussy. It wasn't about sex or pleasure. It was about pure dominance. When the other men got the message that she was his and his alone, they settled their frenzy in a bit.

He reached his thumb forward to place it on her lips. "Suck on this!" he demanded. She understood that this was a power play. He wouldn't give her his seed until she submitted. He didn't have to threaten. He simply had to demand. She sucked on his thumb like a baby sucks on a bottle. He ran his thumb across her teeth and to spread her lips open however he pleased to play with her like a toy.