Toga-clad, Tugged, and Tossed Ch. 02

Goatee next tapped Eric on his inner thighs and coaxed his legs open. Eric reluctantly complied. He felt air on his balls, and he was sure Goatee was getting a full show of his refilling nuts. "Mmm," Goatee grunted, "what a view. What a delicious view." And then with his cheeks held open, Eric felt Goatee's tongue swipe against his hole. Eric gasped. "You may be straight, but who doesn't enjoy having their ass eaten?" The finger earlier had been a weird sort of pleasure, but now this? This was weird and even more delightful. His cock twitched and became rock hard held in place by the toga belt. Eric couldn't control himself, and he leaned so his ass was thrust more towards Goatee and his legs more open. The tongue swiping and tickling his ass was overwhelming, but he could swear he felt Goatee dance a fingertip across the bottom of his sack.

Eric gripped a metal bar on the dumpster and rested his head against the cold bricks of the building. Goatee grabbed his hips and pulled his ass harder onto his face and tongue, that strong, wet, hot muscle pushing into his hole a bit. Goatee's hands wandered up and gripped the toga belt, and that adjustment to his costume released his restrained cock, which bounced out from under the belt. Being so erect, Eric's dick didn't swing down but bounced around under the skirt, smearing precum on the fabric.

The door into the alley they had used earlier swung open, and Eric stiffened--well his back, at least, and stood up. Goatee withdrew from the deep rimming, and Eric could feel his rapid breathing against his low hanging balls. He thanked his luck that the dumpster made something of a barrier between the door and where he was feeling some of the most delightful sensations of his sexual life. Someone catching him being eaten out by a dude in the alley behind the club would probably be about as damaging to his reputation as being caught dripping cum with his cock out in the club.

Eric swallowed and thought about how he would handle the situation. His erection was lifting his toga skirt prominently, and Goatee was crouched behind him, with Eric practically sitting on his face. In the dark of the alley, maybe Eric could hide both of those embarrassing pieces of evidence--if Goatee was still and quiet as he was at this moment.

The door swayed a bit, and no one walked out. Maybe they hadn't closed the door properly, and the wind had taken it? Eric's cock bobbed with his heartbeat and breaths. How long would his luck hold out?

"Now, where were we?" Goatee asked and then resumed his tongue lashing of Eric's ass. Eric yielded to the tongue, his hole puckering with each swipe of Goatee's strong, long tongue. "It is so hot that you came to the club tonight commando." Eric felt Goatee drag his tongue from his perineum up to the top of his ass, and Goatee cupped Eric's buzzing balls. "I think you are glad, too," he whispered, hefting Eric's nads. "I could do this for you anytime you like. You have such a beautiful ass. It deserves worship."

Eric saw a hand appear on the far end of the door. Crap! Goatee needed to chill! He suppressed a yip when Goatee bit into his ass cheek. "I think I could even make you cum from this worship," Goatee (thankfully) hissed in a whisper. Eric reached back and gently tapped on the ass worshiper's head and forehead, hopefully alerting them to their near discovery.

Out into the alley stepped Short Thor--jeez, persistent! Eric prayed he was just out here to barf or piss given how off the rocker he had been on the dance floor. Short Thor looked around and saw Eric (but didn't see Eric's arousal or Goatee, both hidden by the dumpster). He smirked and said 'hey you' in a surprisingly feminine voice. Eric vaguely recognized the voice now that he heard it, but where did he know it from? Short Thor sauntered over and laid his prop hammer on the dumpster lid. He must have noticed Eric's face twisted a bit with thought. "Oh yeah, probably the helmet gets in the way," he acknowledged. He untied the chinstrap, took off the helmet, and shook his sweaty red hair.

Or rather, HER hair. Short Thor was really She Thor, and Eric realized how he knew the voice. It belonged to Anna St. John, a fellow student whom Eric had something of a fractious past with. Their first interaction had been when they were both freshmen, and Eric had assumed she was a trans-man, given how she dressed and carried herself. To his credit, he made an effort to use male pronouns for Anna, but in a case of his narrow ego carrying his thoughts, it hadn't occurred to him to verify that assumption. She was, in fact, not transgender but a tomboy. It had been something of a dramatic week in the dorms when Anna found out what Eric thought and had been saying about her to folks. All in Eric's efforts to be accepting but Anna had become somewhat sensitive to it from bullying in high school.

It had set the tone for how they interacted, and any classes they shared with a discussion portion were guaranteed to devolve into a heated debate between the two of them. Thankfully, Eric hadn't really seen her over the summer or shared any classes this semester. Not so thankfully, she had seen his junk and molested the precum out of him on the dance floor.

"Surprised?" Anna smirked. "Tyler was telling me he had seen you come out back here." Tyler? She shook her head and clicked her tongue. "You really so desperate for a thrill or orgasm that you came out dancing with your balls hanging out?" Eric swallowed and let out an exasperated breath. Goatee, meanwhile, traced a finger along Eric's ass crack. Eric grunted and stepped forward a half step. He had to be careful, as his bouncing cock would peak out from the dumpster if he went forward much more. "You're caught!" she said with a little derisive laugh. "I can't imagine what you were thinking when a guy was slapping around your dong in front of all those people. Or showing everyone your ass by lifting that gigolo skirt of yours." Anna took another step forward, rounding the narrow side of the dumpster, a bare foot from seeing this latest debauchery Eric found himself in.

Goatee had progressed from his hands tracing over Eric's ass to resuming his lingual tickles of Eric's hole. Eric gripped the metal of the dumpster more tightly to keep from vocalizing the pleasures of that tongue lapping and wiggling against him. Just as Anna had brought forth a surge of precum from slapping around Eric's cock, Goatee's rimming was turning on his cock faucet, and Eric felt the fluid dribble down his shaft and drip to the dirty alley pavement.

"Maybe you thinking it was a guy was the real thrill? I mean, I saw all of that pre you were dripping everywhere when I was smacking that pork sword of yours. You have that reputation as a ladies' man. A real man-whore. How many clits have you made twitch with that tongue of yours?" Anna took another step and flicked his nose. "How many times has that face of yours been sat on?" Eric's eyes widened at the coincidence of him riding Goatee's face a moment ago. "I think that is your secret, Eric: you're a latent homosexual. I mean, look at this costume. You go over to Poledancers on the next block, and you would fit in with those drag queens." She edged forward a little more and pinched his nipple. Eric winced. He was about to have a repeat from earlier with the assault of his ass and this additional stimulus on his nipple from Anna's coaxing. Thank god nothing but his skirt was stimulating his cock. Eric thought back to Short Thor--Anna, he was realizing--licking up his precum from her face on the dance floor.

"Yeah, well, you looked like you were enjoying the taste of my cock when you were slapping the juice out of it." Anna looked down, her hand still resting on his pec. She giggled, which was weird to hear given their usual tense interactions.

"You might be a repulsive person," Anna admitted, "but I am still a red-blooded woman." She trailed her fingers across his abs. She cocked her head in consideration. "A trade? I won't tell anyone about you being a degenerate here at the club if you can make me cum until I ask you to stop." Eric couldn't believe what he was hearing. Anna was decidedly unladylike in appearance. That's why Eric thought she was a guy when he first met her. Unlike his usual sexual conquests, Anna didn't have voluptuous breasts or a shapely ass. Sure, she was a rock climber and bicyclist (from what Eric had gathered in various class discussions and group writing assignments), and those activities sculpted her butt into something Eric's friend Dan creatively called 'the envy of any 12 year old Russian gymnast guy'.

She was abrasive. She was never willing to admit being wrong. She always took positions against whatever Eric offered in class discussions. All the same, he was intrigued with the prospect of grabbing her petite body and working his best to make her climax again and again. He could picture picking her up and thrusting into her while her arms clung to his shoulders. Those mental images--and Goatee's tonguing--drew out another copious splash of precum down his cock and onto the cement below.

Anna was watching him think and flush red with fantasized desire. "I think you are game." Eric nodded slowly. "Good. I'll let you know when. You remember my roommate Daisy? Brunette soccer player? C-cups? You literally tore her bra and panties off? She still talks about that. I'll get your number from her." She put on her helmet again and grabbed her hammer. "Oh," she said before turning back to Eric. She swung her hammer slowly around the corner of the dumpster and teased the head of Eric's cock with the head of hammer. Eric's head on his shoulders swam with the sensations of Goatee lapping his ass and Anna tapping the head of his cock. His toga skirt had dropped away from his cock, and his toga costume had come apart at the belt leaving him quite exposed.

Just as those taps and tongue lashes were bringing him close to the edge, Anna pulled hammer away, and Eric saw a flash of light. Anna laughed and was looking at her hammer now. "Insurance to make sure you follow through," she said and turned the hammer toward Eric now. Anna's phone was in the head of the hammer, and the screen was showing a very clear picture of Eric with his junk exposed and head tilted back. His cock and balls glistened in the picture from all the seminal fluids he had been leaking. Anna started whistling a tune and went back inside.

The appeal of the tongue in Eric's ass was fading, and he stepped away from Goatee while drawing the loose drapes of the toga over himself. "I think you have been compensated enough for our trade," Eric spat. Goatee smiled and wiped his chin with the back of his wrist.

"You and your girlfriend have a weird powerplay dynamic," he said. Eric sighed.

"She is definitely not my girlfriend." Goatee stood up.

"Oh, well, at the very least, you have a fun night coming up with her." He had the white underwear in his hand. "Maybe these are hers, eh?" He chuckled and handed the garment over to Eric. Finally! "Well, my offer will always be standing." He nodded at Eric's groin, which was no longer naked but still tenting the fabric lewdly. "I think you enjoyed yourself. When you are comfy on a couch or bed, you'll enjoy my tongue even more." Eric found himself blushing yet again. His body was, indeed, humming from the events of the night, and his head was swimming like a long night of drinking. His thoughts a bit scattered like he had been toking, too. "I'll see you around, Eric." And Goatee tweaked Eric's cock through the toga as he walked by back into the club.

Eric heard Goatee say 'hey' to someone as he closed the door, and Eric breathed out. Would he dare to try to take home one of the drunk girls inside now that he had his briefs back? His luck had held out, more or less, right? Sure, Anna had a very lewd picture of him now, but it was outside. It was him alone. In fact, it may even reflect poorly on her for taking a picture like that without his permission. And the notion of fucking her brains out was a tantalizing set of images that played in a loop in his buzzing head.

He shook out the white garment to put on his underwear again, and his jaw dropped. This was not his underwear. These actually were some slut's white cotton panties. So much for his luck.

"Looking for these?" someone asked from near the door. Eric's eyes flicked up from the panties stretched out in his hands. His actual briefs were there pinched between thumb and forefinger dangling from the hand of a little person. He was dressed as a demon, complete with horns on his forehead and yellow slit-pupil contacts. He held a stereotypical pitchfork in his other hand and wore some sort of shoes that looked like hooves. A leather vest barely covered his muscular torso, matched with a leather skirt below. With his small stature, he could have lurked under the table with ease. He smiled and winked at Eric and stuck out a tongue that--Eric couldn't believe it--was actually forked. He brought Eric's bikini briefs closer to his nose and gave a dramatic sniff. "These are definitely yours. You want them back, come with me." And then he started walking down the alley past Eric with a leering stare at Eric's tented crotch.

And Eric followed.