tagHumor & SatireSome Days, You Just Can't Win

Some Days, You Just Can't Win


It was a textbook case defining 'hollow victory', and it started out innocently enough, as one of those innocuous post-coital conversations lovers often have in that time when their bodies still tingle with mutually achieved orgasms and before they either start fucking again or fall asleep. Beth and Charlie lay in her dorm room bed together, breathing heavily after a bit of carnal acrobatics (having fucked in three different positions within the past ten minutes alone, resulting in three orgasms for her and two for him) and Beth asked if they could dim the lights.

"You know I don't like bright lights," she said. "The room was nice and dark when you came in, and you had to turn every fucking light on you could find." She laughed as he reached to turn off the nightstand lamp beside the bed. A token gesture, the loss of that particular lamp wouldn't darken the room but only diminish the glare.

"I wanted to make sure I got the right person," he said. "Think how we'd feel if you walked into a dark room and found me in bed with Cissy by mistake."

Beth laughed again. "Oh," she said, "I think you'd know the difference between me and my roommate, even in the dark."

Charlie made like he wasn't convinced. "You never know," he said. "You two are built almost the same."

"Bullshit," Beth said. "No offense to her, but I'm far prettier."

"And so you are, but in the dark I wouldn't be able to see that, I'd have to go by feel."

"And you don't think you'd be able to 'feel' the difference?"

"Maybe, maybe not," he said

"Well, let's assume for the sake of argument that she and I have the same basic body shape, the same boobs, nipples, ass, everything, and we don't, I've seen her naked, trust me, you'd know. Assuming all that, you don't think you'd know you had the wrong person once you got inside?"

Charlie had too much trouble getting over the fact that Beth had seen Cissy naked to compose a rational answer. It had probably happened while Cissy was getting changed, but he instantly had visions of the two girls frolicking in bed, giggling, licking each other's cunts, fingering assholes... With his brain thus occupied his other head made the decision for him, and he unwisely said, "There least of all."

She punched his arm, hard. "You pig!" she denounced him playfully. "I'd know you in the dark." It was as confident a statement as any she'd ever made.

He was slightly pissed she had ruined his fantasy. "You think so?" he said, challenging.

She detected trouble ahead but pride carried her forward anyway. "Of course," she said assertively.

"If you walked into a room, totally dark, you'd be able to tell me from another guy?"

"In an instant."

"I'm not talking about our whole bodies," he said, getting into the conversation now, and rising up on one elbow. "Just our cocks."

She started to protest and he cut her off. "You said I'd be able to know if it was you or not by the feel of your pussy, so you're saying you'd be able to tell the difference between me and any other guy strictly by the feel of our cocks?"

She thought a brief second, then said, "Of course."

"Now, that's bullshit!"

And that's the way things like this get started.

By the time negotiations were over, they had agreed that Beth would be blindfolded and confronted with Charlie and two or three of his friends and she would have to identify Charlie solely by touching their cocks. He had wanted her to have to let them inside her, in accordance with her argument that he'd be able to tell the difference once inside her pussy, but she wasn't having that. They settled on mere palpation. Even so, Beth was positive there would be no challenge at all, and Charlie was certain she'd never get it right without a lucky guess.

"In the meantime," she kidded him when they'd agreed to actually do the experiment, "I get to feel your friends' dicks with you watching." Part of her hoped that alone would get him to change his mind.

"In the meantime," he countered, "you get to make a fool of yourself in front of my friends, feeling all our dicks and not being able to tell one from the other."

That was it, then. The dare was settled.

Two days later, Beth came to Charlie's dorm room and in there with them were Ben, his roommate, and Chuck and Gonzo, two of his friends. Charlie had chosen them specifically to make Beth's choice as difficult as possible. When word got out what he was doing he had volunteers he didn't know what to do with, but he chose very carefully among his best friends.

They were all basically the same height, so she wouldn't be able to tell anything by relative distance. They had compared cocks to make sure none of them were exceptionally hung or deficient, and that they were all cut. Foreskin would be a dead giveaway.

These three friends were, of course, nervous as kittens in a dog pound because in a few minutes they'd be getting felt by Charlie's girlfriend, and Beth was definitely hot. She was pretty enough to be a model if she had wanted, tall with long, shapely legs, and fashionably slim without looking anorexic. She had decent sized breasts with very prominent nipples, and wide hips that swayed so nicely when she walked. His friends all envied Charlie the chance to know Beth as intimately as he did, and this was a great way for three of them to at least get a 'feel' for what that might be like.

Besides, for most of the boys this would be as close to group sex as they would ever get. Despite what is written about campus life, more gets talked about than actually done. None of them were virgins, far from it, but neither were any of them living the Playboy lifestyle.

Charlie appeared to be coolly sure of himself, and Beth did her best to hide the fact that she'd wished she'd never agreed to this. Not that she thought she'd lose -- she was certain of victory -- but because she really didn't like the way those other three guys were looking at her. Somewhere in their heads they all had visions of this becoming a porn-movie spectacle, a gang bang extraordinaire, at the very least a bukake exhibition, she on her knees while the four of them poured cum all over her face and chest. If that's what they were expecting they were about to be very disappointed.

However, it was too late to back down using their expectations or any other excuse, so she stood there while Charlie tied a black cotton bandana around her head and checked it to make sure she was completely blinded. He then guided her down to her knees.

The logistics had all been worked out beforehand so Charlie wouldn't have to say a word to her. The sound of his voice would give away his location, so once the blindfold went on not a word was to be said by him or any of the other boys. As she knelt there she heard four zippers open and the four guys moving into position.

Good lord, she must have been crazy to agree to this!

"I probably should wear a glove or something," she said nervously. "You guys aren't diseased or anything, are you?"

Nobody said a word. Her hand came up partway and then zipped back to her side.

"None of you guys are filming this, right?" she said. "If this winds up on the internet tonight I will kill each and every one of you!"

One of them broke ranks and said, "Hey, you could be famous. The next Paris Hilton."

Her face soured. "At which point," she said, "I'll make it a multiple murder and a suicide. Can we get on with this?"

Because of the breach in silence the four of them had to shift positions again. They lined up side by side, and as was prearranged the one directly in front of her tapped the top of her head to let her know they were ready. Whoever it was tapped her just a bit too enthusiastically. She flinched, and thought about using that as an excuse to call the whole thing off, but then steeled herself for the ordeal, forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand, and reached up slowly to gauge her first subject.

Her hand extended out inch by inch until she touched something. The 'thing' she touched flinched on contact, and she waited for it to calm down before finding it again and wrapping her hand around the hard shaft. Her fingers manipulated the head, and then she declared that it was not her boyfriend. "Nice," she said, "but too thin to be Charlie."

Still on her knees, she moved down the line to the next one. After manipulating this cock she said nothing, and moved on to the next. She still said nothing and moved on to the last, who she dismissed as readily as she had the first one. "No offense," she said, "but Charlie's got that much while still soft." Then she addressed the crowd. "The end two, back away," she said, and waited while they stepped back. The bed squeaked as they sat down. "It's between these two."

She knelt between the two left standing and took a cock in each hand. She pulled on them, cupped the heads, and asked if she could feel the balls as well. A guttural voice from farther away (one of the rejects on the bed, after checking for advice from Charlie) said, "Un-uh," so that was out. Indeed, in all fairness, she had said she could tell by the cocks alone, and while arguments could be made that scrotums were integral enough to the structure of the whole to be considered components rather than adjuncts, the time for such debate was long since past. Cocks were all she'd have to go by, and choosing the right one was obviously proving to be more difficult than she had thought.

Her inability to make a snap decision bothered her. She and Charlie had been lovers for about three months, and she knew the sound of his voice immediately, in person or electronically, and she recognized the back of his head when he was buried in a crowd, so she never thought identifying his cock would prove so challenging. After all, she'd been far more intimate with his cock than the back of his head!

She switched hands, massaging, tugging, feeling about for any obvious venation or other distinguishing characteristics. They'd purposefully avoided sex since making the bet so she wouldn't have any opportunity to study his anatomy for obvious landmarks. She suddenly felt certain that she was about to lose the bet, but then something about the cock in her right hand felt terribly familiar.

Maybe it was the way it pulsed against her palm, or the angle at which it tugged up involuntarily begging for attention. She switched hands again, and sure enough, that one was Charlie. Undoubtedly. She let go of the other one and gave his a squeeze.

"Gotcha!" she declared.

"Damn, baby, I thought for a while I had this victory all sewn up!"

She went to take the blindfold off, but Charlie placed a hand on hers and asked her not to. "I think I kinda like this situation," he said. "Would you guys excuse us for a few minutes?"

The other three grumbled and Beth heard all sorts of motion in the room, and then the door opened and closed and all was silent for a while.

"We never played like this," Charlie said. "It's kinda kinky."

"You like this, huh?" she said, and she walked on her knees closer to him, her hand still wrapped about his rock-hard dick. "And what exactly do you think is gonna happen with me like this?"

Fortunately, it was a purely rhetorical question. She knew exactly what he wanted, and without him saying another word she moved in and took his cock in her mouth.

Beth was really good at giving head. She had a masterful way of coordinating hand, lip, and tongue movement, and in no time she had him breathing heavily. Now that the contest was over, she was free to use one hand to hold his balls while the other stroked his cock in time with the movement of her lips up and down the shaft. Her tongue wrapped around the head, and just for fun she occasionally scraped her teeth down the shaft and made his whole body shiver.

He must have been really turned on by watching her feel up his friends' cocks (and truth be told, so was she!) because in a very short time he was pouring his thick, hot cum down her throat. Beth smiled when he was done, and held on to him with one hand while she dabbed at the corners of her mouth with the other. He tried to pull his dick free but she held on tight. "Not so fast," she said. "I'm not done with you yet. After all, I won the fucking bet, so I think this time you wear the blindfold," and she took it off her face.

She was holding Gonzo's dick in her hand.

Charlie stood beside him, stroking himself, watching her with the biggest shit-eating grin he'd ever had plastered across his face. Ben and Chuck stood just inside the door where they'd been since pretending to leave the room. They were grinning, stroking themselves, and they looked like they had every expectation of being next.

"Guess I won after all," Charlie said.

Beth let go of Gonzo's shrinking cock and wiped her hand on her jeans. "I guess you did," she said, and stood up. Her eyes went to the other two by the door. "I think they're expecting the same treatment," she told Charlie, and she sounded like she was about to go give it to them, but then she threw the blindfold at Charlie, hard enough that had it been made of anything stronger than cotton it would have gone right through him.

"They're your friends," she said angrily. "How about putting this fucking thing on and you can blow them yourself?" And then she elbowed her way toward the door.

Charlie couldn't understand her reaction. "We never established the stakes," he said, which, in the long run, was not the wisest thing to say.

She spun toward him and shouted "Pride!" and then spun back and left the room.

Charlie didn't see much of her after that, and when he did he was awfully glad that looks could not kill. Attempts at reconciliation were out of the question. In another week he saw her walking with her arm around another boy and the way her hand languorously rested on his ass he knew what the score was there.

Nice idea, Charlie. Got any others rattling around inside that hairy gourd?

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