Sex with a Pair of Strippers

Story includes M/F sex acts. Readers should be over the age of 18 years.

***

It happened again.

A group of local strippers had decided that they were done paying their hard earned money for low quality cocaine cut with what appeared to be caffeine.

They had managed to smuggle 22 kilos of cocaine out of Jamaica over the course of a spring break trip they had taken down there. I had wanted no part of any of it. I had been out of the trafficking business for years.

We went over to Nicki's house. She had kept it after her divorce and it had the level of privacy this task demanded. I would show them how to wash off the impurities before it recrystallized to create a purer end product. We washed it with acetone and coconut milk then added in a few drops of natural coconut extract. It was messy, smelly, exhausting work. The end result had been the good stuff; coconut cocaine.

No amount of drugs or money was enough to get me back in the business. It's not worth it. A person rolls the dice a few times, makes money for a year, maybe two years, then they get out and stay out. That or they roll the dice and end up in prison or the morgue. It's like someone rolling snake eyes, they die. They might roll one time or ten times with no issues or their number might come up and they end up in a world of pain.

I was lonely and horny. I had also fed their drug habits for years before while I had tried unsuccessfully to get them into rehab. They had managed to use that to guilt trip me into helping them.

As soon as I was done showing them how to wash the cocaine, my plan had been to get in my car and just drive away. No sex, no money, no drugs. Not even check the rear view mirror.

They had taken showers after to wash the acetone smell out of their hair. Nicki came out into the kitchen, walked up to the table next to me. She reached for a glass of wine, as she did so she 'accidently' dropped the towel she was wearing. It was what my heart and body wanted. My head knew I should just walk out the door, get in my car and drive away. "Here, take this." She pushed a pill into my mouth. Without even thinking I swallowed it down. "Viagra" she shrugged when I looked at her confused.

Tracie walked in and started giggling as she saw the two of us. She slipped her tee-shirt over her head. She was not wearing a bra. She had the perfect stripper breasts. Big, natural, firm, round, grapefruit size boobs. I was not good with bra sizes and they both knew that I was inexperienced enough that I would have problems getting her bra off. I knew that they knew this and they knew that I knew.

Nicki lit up a joint before taken a long drag off it. She put it up to my lips. I refused to smoke it. Tracie came up behind me and wrapped her arms around me. I could feel those firm melon like breasts pressed against me. I moaned at the warmth from her body against me before taking a hit off the joint. It was cocaine mixed with weed, I could feel my lips go numb within a second from the cocaine.

What I wanted was a girlfriend. We would hold hands. We would ride bikes together and share our days with each other. I never managed to have anything like that. I had gone on a total of one 'date' in my life. She had been driving and was low on gas. I had gotten out at some gas station to fill up her tank, gone inside to pay, when I came back out she had been gone. With these women it had always been me getting sex and them getting drugs. We never talked about it. It was never a trade where I offered the drugs for sex, it just happened.

I had wanted to get them into rehab the entire time. The only one who had ever gone was Kristen. Who promptly told all of us when she got out that we were a part of her life she regretted and that she never wanted to see any of us again.

When life gives you lemons, you just got to make lemon aid I thought as I fondled Tracie's big orbs.

I took Nicki by the hand, leading her back to the bath room. I slipped my pants off as she unwrapped a condom. One thing I had learned about strippers was these women wanted to always be the one to put the condom on. It was the one and only way they could be sure it would be on the guy. I was somewhat sure they also were checking to make sure there was nothing like a scab on my penis that might suggest an STI. I kept my hands at my sides, letting her do whatever she was felt she needed do or check what she needed to check down there.

She knew what I wanted to do. She turned away from me, facing the mirror, and put one foot up on the sink. I leaned against her to help her balance. When she was ready she reached down grabbing my member, before slowly slipping it into her entrance. We both watched the whole scene in the mirror. "I love the look on your face when we do this." She smiled at me. She put both hands up against the mirror. That was my signal that I could runt into her as hard as I could while maintaining a rhythm.

She was tight and warm. I had forgotten how amazing this felt with her. Her hair smelled of strawberries. Tracie came up next to us watching the show in the mirror. She slipped the joint into my mouth then between Nicki's smiling lips before taking another long drag. She blew the smoke directly into my face. "Feel this." She took my hand and slipped it between her sloppy wet thighs. "I need seconds when you are done with her."

I reached around Nicki hips, rubbing my fingers in a circle over her clitoral hood while thrusting into her hard from behind. "Relax girl. I gave him a Viagra. He'll be good for all night." I watched her breasts jiggled rhythmically in the mirror. I reached my hand up through her hair till it was against her scalp. I was allowed to pull on her hair as long as I was holding it so it would not hurt her when I pulled.

Tracie was too short to get her leg up on the sink. Also, I didn't know the details but some guy had hurt her in a bathroom once. She hated having sex anywhere near a toilet. She started pinching Nicki nipples. "You need to get these things pierced." She rubbed her friend nipple between her thumb and index finger. She started rubbing her finger against my butthole. "I've got a strap on. I would love to fuck your ass."

"No way!" I blushed.

"I'll totally let you in my ass, if I can get in your ass first." She whined in her bratty voice. Things in my ass was something new. We had never done anything like that.

"That would waste the Viagra." Was the best answer I could come up with that would not result in something in my butt. I could see the white powder under her nose, she had snorted a line before joining us in the bathroom. Some people are mean drunks, she could be a mean coke fiend. I didn't feel safe with her up my ass on coke.

Finally Nicki orgasmed. It was not a loud scream, her hips just started bucking. I grabbed her hips and just keep pumping away. "Quit it." she gasped after a while. I stopped thrusting and wrapped both my arms around her in a tight hug as she slipped me out of her. "Great. Now I need another shower." She always acted angry after sex, not just with me but any other guy she had sex with. She walked into the shower.

Tracie looked at my still hard penis. "Hum. Cocaine or cock. I choose both. But get a new condom on." She dropped a little cocaine on the sink, before lining it up and snorting it with a rolled up dollar bill.

Back in the day Tracie and I would often break into churches and fuck on the altars while dressed in slutty nun Halloween costumes. I knew it was best to fuck her from behind any time she was strung out on cocaine. She was known to grab men's testicles and squeeze for no reason during sex. She grabbed my hair "snort this" she howled as she shoved my face into a line of coke.

She dragged me from the bathroom into the bedroom, threw me on a bed. She jump on to me, straddled me, just shoving my dick into her balls deep. I had no idea where her pants had gone. She had been wearing them in the bathroom. She had a triangle muff that she had dyed white I noticed as she started to ride me like a bucking bronco ride.

I was not sure how long it lasted. She was not as tight as Nicki. Which was new. It was still a wonderful feeling being inside her as she rode me. Her amazing breasts bouncing as she pounded into me hard. The downside was the crazed look in her eyes as she howled and thrashed her arms wildly around on me. I was bleeding from at least four deep scratch marks on my chest. It was like having sex with the possessed chick from the Exorcist. I would tell her to stop but I was genuinely terrified she would crush my balls if I did. She started choking me with both her hands grabbing her underwear, which she had wrapped around my throat. As I blacked out I started cumming hard, it was a strange intense feeling like ejaculating and drowning at the same time.

Finally she orgasmed. "If you tell anyone I have cocaine, I'll claim you raped me." She hissed at me as she groaned orgasmically.

I slipped my pants on and got out of there. My underwear was somewhere. I had my wallet, keys, phone, and shoes. I decided to abandon my underwear and just get the fuck out of there. There was blood dripping down my bare chest as I drove shirtless down the road, still a bit wasted, reeking of weed, coconut cocaine, sex, and blood.

I promised myself for the fifth time never to talk to them again. I knew I would not be able to keep that promise. They would find another way to trick me into having sex with them in exchange for aiding them with my encyclopedic knowledge of stimulants and drug trafficking. What had started with them giving me blow jobs for eight balls of cocaine, then progressed to sex in exchange for smuggling butt loads of Fentanyl across the border had finally culminated into a near threesome in exchange for cocaine washing knowledge. I knew that next time things would be happening to my butt whether I wanted them to or not.