3 comments/ 47447 views/ 14 favorites 2 Moving Day By: Cactus34 I felt the blood surge hotly in my face. I panted heavily. "Push it harder. Don't stop." My brother Harry did a deep chest grunt and pushed, sweat beading over his face. "Something is going to rip if I go harder. We need some lubricant or..." Without a rip, or even a popping sound, the sofa edged the half a centimeter it needed to slide smoothly around the dogleg into the room. I did a quick two step not to stumble. We re-hefted the great green monster and got it inside. "Against the far wall for now. I can shift it if I need to." "You're gonna have to, bro, because I'm never lifting this thing again. I'm sure not going to help get it out of here when you move again." We collapsed on our subdued enemy, stretching our legs out. Harry, ever the classy guy, pulled the hem of his t-shirt up to wipe his face. Seemed a good idea, actually, so I did it too. Then we sat back. It was a really nice couch. One of the few long enough that let me stretch right out. A blazing beam of sunlight spotlighted on the carpet. A person couldn't even tell from this view that winter still gripped the world. "Yeah, I thought you were nuts for using the official master bedroom as a living room, but it could work." I nodded, smiling. "I almost passed on having a two bedroom unit all to myself, but then I realized if I'm going to set up a proper work space studio, the extra room will be great." "And the second bedroom is the bedroom?" "Once I measured to see if it fit a king size bed, the vision fell into place. The 'living room' has the biggest windows and the best light and view. Why work in a rabbit hole? That's the room for sleeping." Harry smirked crookedly. "A king size bed? What the hell does a bachelor need with that kind of elbow room? Planning on having orgies?" I hid my expression by standing up and giving my face another wipe with my shirt. I couldn't let Harry see the goofy grin exploding on my face. From what I had experienced here in Avalon Apartments three weeks ago, that king size could likely be the hardest used piece of furniture in the place. "HARRrrrY! I'm hungry!" The mostly empty apartment made the unpleasant whine even more annoying with an echo. The voice certainly slapped the grin off my face. Adults just shouldn't whine like that. Harry climbed to his feet. "Coming Tiffany!" I followed him out of the "hospitality room". "That was the last load, Zach. Just a couple of boxes left. Here's the plan: we go down. You bring up the boxes and, since I have to move the truck from the loading zone anyway, I'll keep on going to get some grub." "Let me get my wallet. It's on me." "Damn straight it's on you. Sleeping, storage fees and labour costs ain't cheap." Tiffany Trubela leaned-sprawled on the kitchen counter with her elbows and stomach, her butt sticking out and her legs akimbo on the floor. Only her fingers dancing furiously over her pink phone keypad gave away that she was awake. Still, even in such a slack-jawed idiot pose, she artfully kept her scoop-necked cleavage on glorious display and her skintight jeans accentuated those long legs and ass to perfection. Her meticulously styled blonde hair draped down her back. However, even the exquisite makeup job around the huge sapphire blue eyes and magnificent cheekbones couldn't hide the bovine dull expression of the hardcore texter. "Tiff, I'm off to get some food." Harry leaned in to give his girlfriend a peck on the cheek. 
The blonde woman grunted, pulling away, focusing on her messages. "Baby, you were going to unpack the kitchen." Of the three boxes labeled "Kitchen", one had been opened. A drawer hung open, empty. Not a great effort. Tiffany frowned, without turning away from the miniature screen. "Kim is stressing out over picking shoes for a very important party. She needs my advice more than Zach needs his forks and spoon sorted." "Kim who?" 
"Kardashian, of course!" "KIm Kardashian asked you, personally, for advice?" I always tried to keep to the weather and peoples' health when talking to Tiffany, but kept failing in the face of absurdity. Any actual conversation almost always ended badly. Blood pressure spikes are not healthy. "She accepted me to her Flutterbook Gold Circle. When she sends out a cry for help, her special followers just have to pitch in." "All 50,000 of you. It's a tight group." "At least it's in the real, grownup world. Why don't you go unpack your toy spaceships?" Tiffany pulled back the small amount of attention she had granted us and went back to the phone. Harry gripped my arm and pulled. I sighed and let myself be led out of the apartment. 
Harry shrugged into his parka as the elevator descended the three floors. "So, that's everything you had stashed in my garage. How many other Zach McAllister Stash Spots are there to clean out?" I had no problem with a change in subject. "You had the biggest pile, thanks again. Clint and Tai Ping have about half-a-dozen bags stuffed with clothes and bedding and towels. Rudy has my big screen, so that'll be easy to move, but a bugger to extract from where he's set it up in his living room. The rest is still two provinces away in a pay storage unit." I blew out my cheeks. "Moving cross country sucks." "Well, in my experience, finding a place to live is the hardest part. The rest is just muscle and buying pizza. Oh, crap." Harry raised his arms in frustration, beseeching the sky gods. "We can't buy pizza." "Why the hell not? Pizza is the traditional food when moving. It may even be a law." "Because Tiff doesn't eat wheat products during months with an 'R' or some shit." Harry looked miserable, trapped between reality and a red hot girlfriend. Again. "How about Greek? There's a place on 18th Ave called 'The 12 Platters of Hercules' that's pretty tasty..." Harry perked up. "I know the joint. It is good. There'll be something there she'll like." "That would be the Harpy Special. I'll take a Centaur Platter." "Ha. Ha. Ha." Harry smiled with one side of his mouth. "That is actually funny, but that's my girl you're...HOLY SHIT!" I whirled around, expecting a bus to be coming through the main doors and into the lobby. Instead, a cab driver wheeled-dragged a large suitcase over the snow ridged sidewalk while Marita held the outer door for him. My glands snapped off a tap dance and hand flip. Harry wasn't admiring the puffing cabbie or the quality luggage. We McAllister brothers admired the mane of midnight copper hair framing the heart-shaped face and flawless caramel skin. The full lips and merry smile. The enormous green eyes. The deep green plaid winter coat went to her knees, giving only a tantalizing hint at the curves beneath. Harry could only guess at those curves. I knew those curves intimately. I fought down another village idiot grin. Attempt to be cool, Zach. I did spring forward to open the inner door before Marita had to fumble for her keys. "Oh, thank you. It's good to be home!" Marita gave her boots a last stamp to clear snow. "I think." She fluffed her hair out while undoing a few coat buttons. She smiled politely. "Do you live in the building?" The sexual pixie dust supporting me vanished in a flash of reality. "Um, yes. Just moving in." Harry gave me a prod. "This is my brother Harry. I'm..." "Jack? No, something with a zed. Zach! Yeah, Zach." Marita grinned in triumph, as she held out her hand to shake. "I'm Marita. You were apartment hunting about, what, three weeks ago? The old memory hasn't failed after all!" I returned the polite handshake, keeping a brave face. I hoped. "The first of the month finally came and I don't have to sleep on this lunkhead's couch no more." "Lunkhead? Hey..." Harry frowned as he shook Marita's hand. "Well, it's nice to meet you again and you, Harry. Probably see you at the mailboxes or something." Marita strode off across the small lobby to the elevator, suitcase in tow. "Yeah, I guess." I spiraled down for a crash landing, shot out of my dreams by hard truths. For the second time, Harry pulled me along. We exited out the doors into the arctic afternoon, the sun easing towards setting. "You're the lunkhead if you think you have a chance with her. Wow, she's gawdamn dynamite on two legs. She's so far out of your league, it'd be like a tiddlywinks player in a pro hockey game." Harry reached over the truck box and pulled out the last two boxes, thrusting them into my arms. I kept my mouth shut. I wanted to tell my smug little brother that I had not only played in Marita's league, but had that an MVP award for my effort. Well, or so I thought. Apparently not so much. As dismal as Marita's platonic courtesies made me feel, I wasn't going to become a strutting, bragging thug for Harry. The road of a gentleman is not easy. The boxes made themselves a nuisance getting back inside, but they weren't so heavy I couldn't manage. I stumped up to the elevator and pushed the button. The door slid open and I turned sideways to watch my step and to let the handrail inside support some of their weight. Marita's voice came from behind me. "What floor was that again?" "Uh...3." I twisted my head to see her smirk. "What,...why." I gave my stunned brain a kick. "You're just riding the elevator for fun?" I hoisted the boxes for a better grip. Between Marita, me, two boxes and her luggage, the tiny elevator didn't leave much maneuvering room. I worked the physics of turning around to face her. A warm breath and wet tongue traced my right ear. "No silly. I waited to give you a proper hello." The startled squeak of I made did not sound manly nor even dignified. I did feel myself pull out of that spiraling dive into gloom. As I juggled the boxes I had nearly dropped, I could only blather "What? Really?" Marita's honey-toned chuckle alone could give a guy wood. "You get a gold star, newbie neighbour. It's a crazy judgement call in this building when to be polite and when to be a slobbering sex fiend. In my book, you played the very correct amount of smooth and cool down there in the lobby." 
She gave my earlobe a fresh tongue-thrashing and nibble while she reached around to treat my groin to a full palm massage. The third floor dinged and the elevator stopped WAY too soon. I lurched out of the elevator, totally wobbling on my pins. I gave her a huge grin. "See you." 
Marita gave a little wave and a saucy smile as the doors closed. "I better be invited to the housewarming." I bumped and thumped my way into my apartment, walking again on a sparkling fog of sexual possibility. I put the boxes down and stood staring off in a hot daydream of that housewarming party. "Ah, has Tiffy's boobies given poor Zachie-whackie a stiffie?" Tiffany cackled. I spanged back to reality. I had honestly forgot all about her while drifting in my Happy Place. If texters want to ignore everyone around them, I tend to return the favour. I looked down. For moving day, I had on old sweat pants and loose boxers. Marita's efforts had brought the circus to town and the main tent pole was blatantly up. I blinked again. Without conscious thought, I replied with a bark of a laugh. "Gawd, no!" Whatever Tiffany expected for a reaction, mine didn't fit. Only slapping her with a fish might result in the same popped eyes, gaping mouth surprise and hurt. She took a long second to process the concept of not being someone's fantasy girl. Her eyebrows slammed together and her lips closed in a thin line. Red crept up from her cleavage to distort her pretty face. "YOU PENCIL DICK..." She floundered. While I may not be packing a salami, what was tenting my sweats could not be called a "pencil". She started again. "You slob of a geek! You nerd freak! This minute is as close as you'll ever get to babies this good if you live to be a hundred!" Normal manners would suggest I try to hide my boner. But I'd be strung up by my nuts before I'd show any weakness in front of Harpy Girl. "I do apologize for any slight, Tiffany. However, I was, in fact, daydreaming about breasts that I have not only seen, touched, and kissed but are far superior to yours. Not that your's aren't quite nice. Obviously you paid a lot of money for them." Trying to keep my temper and to slip in the last word, I turned to the bathroom door. "Excuse me, I think I'll wash up before the food comes." I closed the door on Tiffany's bellow of rage. "You lying fuckhead! Nobody talks to me that way! You're in there jacking off thinking about me right now, because you'll never have a real woman. The only tits you've seen are on a computer screen!" I leaned on my hands and looked at myself in the big bathroom mirror. I shook my head and my reflection agreed with my frustration. I'd had to put up with that shrew for ove ra month while Harry put me up. It's all done, Zach, it's all over. Well, washing up would be a good idea. Hygiene and some water to cool the blood. I peeled off my shirt, smiling at the tent that was only beginning to subside. I went profile and chuckled at the rude display. I started to soap up my hands. Jacking off, indeed. If a fraction of the promise of Avalon Apartments came true, I'd never have to seek solo relief again. I brought the towel up to dry my face. Tiffany had finally shut up. My breathing and heart rate had slowed. My cock had started to droop. The doorknob clicked. The bathroom door slammed back. I brought the towel down in shock as a flash popped in my eyes. 
"Caught you jerking off!" Tiffany exulted, phone up and taking pictures. "The girls will love these snaps." She trailed off as she realized I still had my pants on. My blood pressure soared. I snapped. "A camera? A CAMERA??" I snatched her phone out of her startled hand. "You self-centered bitch! You were honestly going to post pictures of me jerking off on the fucking internet? Well, if your friends want nudity, how about a naked skank?" I stepped in and grabbed Tiffany around the waist with one arm, yanking her close. As her brain struggled to catch up, I gripped the hem of her shirt at the back and pulled up, giving her a small shove. The pink shirt peeled up over her arms like a banana skin. She came to rest against the door frame, hair tousled and eyes wild. I brought her phone up and started snapping. To minimize unsightly lines under her thin t-shirt, Tiffany had a light, sheer bra that left little to the imagination. I got off three good candids of rosy nipples behind lace before as she dithered between covering herself and making me stop. I flung the shirt aside and stepped in again, her hands batting away at me as I gripped the front of her bra between her bouncing tits and pulled it up. Flash! 
"GIve me that fucking phone!" She lunged at me, but tangled in bra straps, she didn't quite reach the phone. I jumped out of the bathroom, letting weeks of TIffany Frustration run wild. I made two steps when she grabbed the back of my sweat pants. I fell forward, the phone skittering off across the rug as I caught myself from a face plant. I squirmed away as she clawed at my legs. Sweatpants came off very easily, leaving me in boxers and socks. Tiffany waddled forward on her knees, nude from the waist up, taking off the remaining spike heel shoe that had tripped her up. I rolled to my hands and knees to scrabble for the phone. I spun on to my back and clicked off two more shots of Tiffany in her bouncing, jiggling hellcat glory. 
"You shit head bastard!" Tiffany lunged at me again, just as I got my feet under me to stand up. This time she took down my boxers and left some $50 per nail scratches down both my thighs. I danced backwards, my cock bobbing stiffly in the open air. I took my eyes off Tiffany to find the switch to video. Still photos weren't enough. 
Crash! Something shattered on the wall behind me. "Drop that fucking phone!" Tiffany knelt beside an open box, chest and boobs heaving, eyes blazing, the spaceships she loved to mock in each hand. I glanced over my shoulder. One lay in bits across the carpet. I thought I had already lost my temper. Apparently not. "You miserable stupid cow! Those aren't toys, they're heirlooms! Keepsakes from my uncle and dad!" I let the phone bounce to the carpet as I lunged at her like an attacking bear. She raised one of the antiques to smash it, but I tackled her, grabbing both wrists. I landed on top of her, crushing her big tits under my chest. I snarled into her face and twisted her wrists until both ships slipped safely to the floor. She snarled back at me. Drops of sweat dropped on her face from me. Tiny sprays of spit hit my face. I sat back up, pulling her along with me. Tiffany exercised only enough to keep herself fashionably skinny. She had no muscle tone to stop me. Too selfish to reason with. Too uncaring to listen to arguments. I saw only way to make my point. Sitting cross-legged, with the carpet scratching my bare ass, I shifted Tiffany face down across my lap. My cock head poked into her stomach. I kept my arm across her back to pin her down while my other hand pulled and yanked at the waistband of her jeans. Skin tight as they were, it took a bucking, wrestling few minutes to expose her ass. No panties. Being sexy or fashionable? Didn't matter.

WHACK! I brought the flat of my hand across her pert cheeks. We had descended to grunts and growls while wrestling, but this brought a fresh shriek out of her. "YOW! You bastard! Let me go!" WHACK! "Ow!" WHACK! "Jesus!" WHACK! "Stop it!" WHACK! I kept going, letting loose a lot of frustration, some of it not entirely Tiffany's fault, but just for the style of person she was. Her cheeks wobbled like red jello when I finally felt a need to pause, if only because my arm and hand ached. Tiffany's shouts had become whimpers had become...moans? Her long, smooth body didn't thrash so much as "squirm". "Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh fuck." She moaned into the carpet as her body writhed on my lap. I don't know if Tiffany knew this about herself or not. The fact my cock still stood like a bar of iron surprised me. She turned her head, peering at me with a mascara-streaked eye through a curtain of tousled blonde hair. "...please zach. don stup." came a bleary voice talking into the carpet. I felt something splish on to my thigh beneath Tiff. It might have been sweat, but my nose caught the rising tang of a woman feeling the heat. It didn't calm me down much. Still, I hadn't become a total lunatic. I stood on a line. This side had some issues in polite company, but across that line I'd be tripping over words like "rape". But my cock and temper demanded more. Desperate to please, my brain noticed Tiffany's phone.

I gave her beautiful bottom another smack. "Speak up Tiffany. You want me to stop?" Smack. "No, no! DON'T stop! Damn, I'm boiling over." 
"So? What do you want me to do about it?" SMACK! "AH!" Her head jerked around again. "Fuck me. Damn it, fuck me!" 
"Anything you say, Tiff." I slid out from under her, letting her collapse on the carpet. My cock thrummed as her body flicked it in passing. Tiff's waist and hips wriggled in time to her moans. A couple of savage yanks pulled each leg of her jeans down and off. I pulled the naked woman to her hands and knees and slid into position. My penis throbbed, ready and eager. I pointed the big purple head at her dripping cunt and slammed on in. "Bitches get fucked like bitches." "Keerist!" Tiffany grunted and hammered her delicate fists on the carpet-over-concrete. "Oh, yeah. Oh YEAH." I took hold of her lean waist and pounded for all I was worth. My hips slammed against that red ass and bounced back. Tiffany's lubrication didn't match her desire and I felt my cock heat up with the friction. Her cunt soon started juicing under the assault. My back began to feel the strain, but I kept the jackhammer attack going, gritting my teeth. As long as I kept my brain and its opinions locked in the back in the trunk, my body didn't mind fucking Tiffany at all. 2 Moving Day "GUHhhh. Oh it hurts so damn good." "What. Does. Tiffany?" I gasped out as separate words. "Tell me." "Fucking. You fucking me." She rose up on her hands and back down. Her big barbie boobs flounced back and forth from under her too skinny torso with each stroke. I slowed enough to bend and give the right one a good grope. My first fake breast. Not as bad as I expected. Like squeezing a soft foam ball. Not as good as a real breast, but not bad. Tiffany moaned. "Pinch my nipple." I rolled the fat nipple tip between thumb and forefinger. Tiffany sobbed and pushed her tit into my hand. "The other one! The other one!" "The other one what, Tiffany?" "Pinch my other nipple, idiot!" "Holy crap!" I stuttered in my thrusting as Harry's voice startled me. I looked over my shoulder at his shocked face. Everything balanced on the twirl of one second. One hint of betrayal, one suggestion of rage and guilt or fear would stop me cold. Harry's face twisted in an stunned half-smile. He set the bag of food down. I smiled back at him and revved up my thrusts again. "Mind if I finish?" "Go right ahead, brother." He began to peel out of his clothes. "Mind if I watch? I really have a thing about watching." "Be our guest." Tiffany groped her way through her erotic fog. She peered backwards. Her eyes widened. "Harry? Omigawd. Harry? Stop him. He's raping me!" My brother went on his knees beside us, naked and working his cock up to a full erection with a practiced right hand. "That right, Zach? You raping my girl?" "Nope." I reached around and finally did the rolling nipple pinch Tiff had requested. Her guttural growl didn't sound at all unhappy or coerced. "Okay, then." Harry began a smooth, slow pump of his cock. Seems the McAllister genes bred true. Average length but solid and thick. His eyes drank in our fucking with a wide leer. My streak of exhibitionism didn't mind the audience and I felt fresh energy building in my groin. "I should be mad, I guess, but this cocktease has kept me on a starvation diet for too long." Harry snarled a smile, continuing in a cartoon falsetto, "By me this ring Harry, and you might get some nummies tonight. No laundry, no nookie Harry. I'm watching Celebrity Showdown, don't bother me." "You two are...argh. Put it back in, put it back in!" Tiffany wailed as I pulled out. My juice coated cock felt cool in the room air. I lumbered off my red knees and slapped my brother's shoulder. "Give it to her, Harry." 
With a grin, Harry leapt in to place behind Tiffany. He ran his palms down her sweaty back, then took his throbber in hand and rammed it until his pubes squelched hard into her sopping bald pussy. I flexed my legs a time or two to get circulation back. Then I went back on my knees and waved my fat, slimy erection in Tiffany's face. Harry raised an eyebrow in concern and cocked his head. I shook my head at his fear. Why I figured she wouldn't bite it off, I don't know. I think for all her big talk, Tiffany was discovering a whole world of submission. I tickled her nose with the head and pressed it to her lips. "Like sucking cock, Tiffany? Speak up." Grunting under Harry's pounding, she managed to blurt in a fevered voice, "Yes, I want to suck your cock." Her mouth engulfed me and her tongue went wild around my shaft. I ran my fingers through her mane and began to softly jerk my hips. "She's damn good at this." "I'll have to take your word for it. She wouldn't so much as kiss mine." The bitterness in Harry's voice lost its punch with the bliss of a hot fuck filling his face. His eyes snapped open and twinkled brightly. He looked at me, then at Tiffany and then at her ass. "You know what else I always wanted that never happened?" 
He spat a big gob of saliva into the fingers of his left hand. He then rubbed the slippery moisture all around Tiffany's rosebud. Her wonderful suction action abruptly stopped. I stroked her hair and face, continuing to pump. "It'll be fun." Harry pulled out. He carefully positioned his juiced cock at the entrance to Tiffany's asshole and pushed. I felt the blood surge hotly in my face. I panted heavily. "Push it harder. Don't stop." My brother Harry did a deep chest grunt and pushed, sweat beading over his face. "Something is going to rip if I go harder. We need some lubricant or..." Without a rip, or even a popping sound, Harry's cock edged the half a centimeter it needed to slide smoothly down Tiffany's ass. I did a quick two step on my knees not to stumble as Tiffany shrilled a hot moan and bucked. We re-balanced ourselves around the woman and went back to it. "OH, HOLY CRAP, but that's tight. Not going to last long at all." "Me either. Me either." 
The long-deprived Harry fired his load first, clutching Tiffany's hips like he was going to fall off a building. He shuddered in a full body muscle spasm. A sight like that took me over the edge and my hips jerked as I unloaded into Tiffany's mouth. I collapsed back on to my elbows, knees finally saying enough was enough. My breath came in ragged gulps. Harry fell back on to his ass, the stupidest grin on his flushed face. Tiffany slumped to the carpet like a sack of wet oatmeal and didn't move. My brain broke out of the trunk and reclaimed the driver seat. Concerned, I rolled so my forehead bumped with Tiffany's. At least I heard breathing. I stretched out and managed to snag her discarded phone with my fingertips. I brought it close to its owner. I cooed softly into her ear. "Tifffannny? Do you feel good? Are you alright?" "MMmmm, yes." She slurred and nearly purred. "We're so glad." I rolled and sat back against a wall, softening cock drooling on my thigh. I worked the phone. Harry swept his hands over his face, slicking sweat away and smiled at me. He took hold of Tiff's left foot and gave it a loose shake. "C'mon sleeping slut. Up and away." "Hmm?" Tiffany rotated on to her back. Her careful coiffure had become a crazed bird's nest. Her makeup looked like she'd stood in front of a garden hose. The cum dribbling down her chin had begun to dry. Her boobs flared red with rough handling and rug burn, like her knees. She sat up like a drunk on a rocking boat, wincing sharply when her ass took the weight. The golden setting sun filled my apartment. Tiffany looked blearily at me and then at Harry. I looked at Harry. "I'm hungry. Let's eat." "Helluvan idea!" Harry and I stood up. Tiffany stared at our naked bodies (well, except for my socks) and frowned. The lights began to come on again in her eyes. The muscles in her face tightened under the smudged makeup. "You cocksucking shit heads." She growled in a low voice. "You're going to be brother convicts doing time for rape and assault. Then I'll sue you for..." I held up her phone and clicked "play". "AH! Fuck me. Damn it, fuck me!"
"Anything you say, Tiff." I looked at the screen. "The camera doesn't really capture anything too clearly, but the sound is excellent." I hit play again. "Tifffannny? Do you feel good? Are you alright?" "MMmmm, yes." I slid her pink phone across the carpet to her. "And I already emailed all this afternoon's files to Harry and myself, so don't worry about losing them." Tiffany didn't say anything. Her left eye twitched, but she didn't say anything. She collected her scattered clothing and disappeared into the bathroom. Harry and I had barely dished up the still warm food when she emerged, cleaned up if not her usual primped. She shot us the Finger and stalked out. I imagine she had a lot to think about. Knowing Tiffany, she wouldn't bother. Harry and I went back to sit on the floor, still naked, backs against the wall. We ate. "So, I'm a bachelor again." 
"Sorry about all this, Harry. I really am." "No, no. It's all good, brother." He opened his mouth to continue, then shrugged. "It's good."

A companionable time passed with nothing but chewing and the working of plastic forks. "So, you like to watch, eh?" 
Harry blushed a bit and grinned like a kid. "Well, what can I say? Yeah, I do." I considered options while savouring another mouthful of souvlaki. I swallowed. "I think you need to come to my housewarming party." "Well, I assumed I was already invited." "No, no. My REAL housewarming party."