0 comments/ 70130 views/ 1 favorites Dead End By: R. Richard I was born and raised in the little town of Roadville. The only reason the town of Roadville existed was that we were half way between a lot of other important places. Thus, there was need for gas stations, vehicle repair services, low-end restaurants, bars and girlie places. There was also a need for people to staff the various dead end jobs available in Roadville. Thus Roadville High churned out a lot of mindless drudges who could convince themselves that being a grease monkey or waiting tables was some sort of reasonable existence. At an early age I looked the situation over and decided that I wanted a ticket out. Roadville High did not have ticket out education. Thus, I majored in dice, cards, sports bets, etc. They call me Gambler. After I graduated and got my diploma, I would split for 'Vegas. Just before I graduated, the highway bridges on either side of town were found to be structurally defective. Traffic would have to be re-routed around Roadville. The impact on the local economy was about the same as the aftermath of a hydrogen bomb. If you owned a business, the state would pay you enough to survive, providing you shut down the business and waited for the bridge repairs. If you worked in one of the businesses, you were out of luck. Those who had saleable skills began to drift elsewhere. Most of the residents of Roadville did not have really saleable skills. There was no money and thus no high school prom. The boys and girls who had just been screwed over by fate instead gathered at Benny's, the local teenage hangout. I went, only because Janelle picked me up. Janelle was the hottest babe in Roadville and the daughter of the man who had been one of the richest men in town. Unfortunately, Janelle's father did not own one of the highway businesses. Thus Janelle's father did not get the government handout. Janelle's father was bankrupt, although it would take a few months for the last of the money to run out. I found myself at a table with half a dozen dynamite girls. I figured maybe I could get laid before I stole a car and split for 'Vegas. However, that was not why I had been invited. After everybody said hello, Janelle got to work. "Gambler, the town is dying. None of the kids can get jobs here and anything they get elsewhere will barely pay the rent if they can get a roommate or two. However, Juanita has an idea." Juanita was a tall, slim girl who was half Amerind. Nice looking babe, but she hung with the Amerind guys outside town. If we were poor, the Amerinds were destitute. Juanita lectured: "The last two years, for my school project, I got all of the local Amerinds inventoried and we set up a tribe. We have no money, but we have the old airbase as our tribal lands. We want to set up a casino." I said, "Nice try. However, there are other tribal casinos not all that far from here. They are already set up and fancier than anything we could throw together. Why would anyone drive back roads to maybe play a little bingo?" Juanita asked, "Couldn't we have dice and roulette and like that? " I told her, "It takes training and talent to run a table game like craps or roulette. Roadville does not have talent like that. Also, most of the income from a casino comes from slot machines. There is no way we could buy, lease or rent enough slot machines to carry a casino, even if we could get customers in here." Juanita then asked, "If we could get customers in here, could we make it work?" I thought a few moments and said: "It would depend upon the demographics of the customers, the disposable wealth of the customers and the rules under which the operation would be run. If you could get the right mix of high rollers with the right rules, it might work. I would need to work up a spreadsheet." Janelle took over. "We are gonna have several highway repair crews working in the area for the next couple of years. Young guys with a lot of money to burn. What if we could get them in here night after night?" I said, "Nice try. A hard, young crowd in here would need policing; not fat local cops, hard boys." Juanita pounced, "Gregorio and his guys quit the service 'cause they wiped out their Special Forces operation. They are coming back and they need jobs." I said, "Let's assume, just for the sake of argument, that you could get the road repair guys in here, night after night. That will run some sort of night operation for at least a while. Gregorio and his boys could keep the lid on. You would also need some daytime operations, so that people would not just wander through here days. You would also need to work the new, temporary highway. There are several other things that would need to be done. Some of them I can see, some I cannot. What you would need would be a King to run the whole operation. The people who used to run this town have given up. The people who are now running the town, or at least trying to run the town are no-talents who will run what is left into the ground. For what you want, decisions would have to be made on a right now basis, by one guy with absolute, unquestioned authority. You don't have anybody like that." Juanita and Janelle looked at each other in triumph. They turned back to me. "We do now!" I was jolted. I looked around the circle of girls. They wanted me, for what reason I could not imagine. But why? Janelle suddenly looked very embarrassed. "You have to understand, there is no real choice for the girls here. The economy is in the toilet. For most of the girls in this town the road out leads to the city and work as a low paid waitress for the very lucky and as a whore for most. If we have to whore, why not do it here for big money?" What the girls planned hit me like a hammer. I said, "It is easy to sit here and discuss whoring, but could you girls really do it?" One at a time, the girls around the table told me "There is no other way." The grim faces told me that it was the truth. I then told Juanita, "If we are to pull this off, everyone who stays will have to become an official member of your Amerind tribe. We will have to expand the tribal area to include everything between the highway bridges and from the far end of town over to the new, temporary highway. I will have to be the King, the chief, whatever. I have to have full support from the council." Juanita asked, "What council?" I said, "There will be a tribal council. There will be representatives from each operating area. How many representatives depends on how much profit each operating area brings in. The council will need to be made up of people who can kick ass if they have to in order to keep their people in line. In return, there must be a fair distribution of the profits. We don't need no screamers." I then turned to Janelle. "Your family has some drag with the Governor. We will need some licenses, permits and some hands-off from the local authorities. In return, we will deliver the 100% vote." Janelle swallowed hard, "We can try. We girls don't have much experience, but we all got pussy!" I said, "Now you tell me how you get the customers in here." Janelle took a deep breath. "We girls work nude. We waitress, we dance, we . . ." Juanita chimed in, "We screw the brains out of the customers, for cash!" Of course it was the only way the whole operation made sense. But there were still some questions. "OK, let's talk this through. A girl goes into the back room with a customer who is larger and stronger than the girl. The customer gets rough and nasty. Enforcement goes in right now and kicks rough boy out. How does enforcement know?" One of the girls said, "We could yell?" I said, "Only if the guy doesn't cover your mouth. Actually there is only one workable way and that is surveillance TV." I glanced around the table. I could see the shock. The girls had resigned themselves to screwing but not to screwing on TV. Then, I could see the determination. There really was no other way. I said, "OK, all of the girls who stay will work as they are told. Even the girls who sit on the council will have to whore; especially the girls who sit on the council. Girls will not do what other girls are not doing. Some of the girls who think they are too fat, too ugly, too dark, too light, or whatever will find themselves in a room with a guy who always wanted to find out what it would be like. Clear?" It was clear. I continued, "If we can set up the operation, I will get you a lady who has run a whore operation. She will setup the rules. Whoever runs the girls will enforce the rules to the letter. If there is trouble, the troublemaker will go." One of the girls asked, "Who decides who is the troublemaker?" I looked around the table, "I do!" Another of the girls asked, "OK, why do you get to be King?" I said, "We will set up a high way gas station setup, one on each side of the new road. The gas stations will sell gas, oil, cigarettes and booze. Many of the regular taxes do not apply on an Amerind reservation. Did anyone else see that?" The girl who asked the question said, "No, your majesty!" I said, "Good attitude! We will also set up a couple of legal chop shops. Cars are worth more as pieces than as a whole. Most of the local mechanics around here are Amerinds. Juanita, you will need to talk to your Amerind guys about that set up. Any problem?" Juanita said grimly, "If there is, I have Gregorio." I said, "The old military base has a machine shop. We need the income from the machine shop. Janelle, I need the Governor to sell us the military base for a dollar and some votes." I went on, "We need the liquor licenses from the current package stores and bars in Roadville. We will pay as we go. It is a better deal than the owners will get elsewhere, the alcohol people are not approving license transfers what with the current economy." "We will set up a laundry. The guys on the road crews need that and more. I need feedback on the more part. If you don't screw, you wash or more." "If you do screw, you gotta pass the test." Juanita and Janelle looked at each other. Janelle said, "Why don't the rest of you girls kind of pass the word, gently. Juanita and I are going to work out a test arrangement." Very quickly, it was just the three of us at the table. I said, "Look, we don't even know that we can get everything lined up." The two girls looked at me. Janelle said, "Yes we do. We figured out the screwing part some time ago. There is an old local lady with experience who can help us set things up. We didn't figure on the surveillance TV thing. However, it makes sense. However, I never thought I would screw on TV. Oh well." Juanita then said, "I can get the Amerinds in line. They are the poorest people around here and they have even less choice than the rest. Gregorio will keep the boys in line, I will keep the girls in line." I pointed out, "Juanita, we are all Amerinds now." Juanita said, "That's right! It looks like we are all equal now." I said, "Not quite, I am gonna need a few 16 year old Amerind slave girls, as long as they are actually 18, of course. Their hairless little pussies will be sold to perverts by their cruel Amerind masters. This last will include a couple of blonde girls who were taken captive as babies and forced to learn the secret Amerind sex rituals, etc." Juanita gasped, then slowly said, "It would appear that the customers aren't the only perverts. However, it will be done, ah . . . your majesty." I said, "Then we need to go back to my place. We will need to begin work on some spreadsheets, in between sex tests." Both of the girls looked at each other. Janelle said, "You mean both of us, . . . together?" I asked, "What if a customer wants a twofer with the best?" We went back to my place. I made both girls strip in front of the group. Janelle got nude first and I put her legs over my shoulders. I directed Juanita to suck on Janelle's tit while I slowly and powerfully fucked Janelle. Janelle was a wild woman. The combination of Juanita sucking on her tit and me fucking her pussy had her bucking and writhing from the start. Unfortunately, I came along with Janelle, as I had been on short rations for too long. Janelle ran off to the bathroom while Juanita began the process of getting me hard again. By the time Janelle got back, Juanita had gotten me back hard as a rock and I had got Juanita almost to orgasm. Once again, I fucked a girl with her legs over my shoulders as another girl sucked on her tit. Juanita came almost immediately, but I gave her no rest. With one fuck under my belt, I was able to continue to screw and build Juanita back up toward her second climax. Juanita began the climb back up the hill toward her second orgasm while Janelle and I worked feverishly to make sure that Juanita gave her all. Juanita did not resist and even started to work on herself with a free hand rubbing just above the top of her slit. I was getting my entire length into the hot, wet pussy of Juanita while Janelle's tongue was doing wonders with Juanita's tit. Juanita was working on her other tit with her remaining hand and the little gangbang proceeded to a shattering mutual climax. Afterward we three cuddled on the bed for a bit. Juanita asked, "Did I pass?" I said, "So far so good. You both passed. Now, you two girls lay here and work on your next main showroom act. I need to get started on some spreadsheets." Janelle was shocked and asked, "You mean we kind of work, . . . on each other?" I said, "If the rumors I heard around school are correct, it won't be the first time!" The two girls looked at each other and then turned to blast me. I departed immediately for the computer and the necessary spreadsheets. I had just prevented my first revolt. The Kinging thing was going to be trickier than I had at first imagined. Dead End And Unexpected This is a fantasy. Do not actually do this in real life. Ever! (Unless it's a consensual roleplay between two adults.) I was cutting across the store looking for the bathroom when I saw her. She was short, and dressed in a thin tube top and shorts. She walked ahead of me through the panties and thongs, fingering the laciest, smallest thongs ahead of me before moving on, forward, deeper into the clothing stacks. Her heavy breasts unsupported and swaying and jiggling erotically with each step she took. I wonder what she's wearing now, her pants and thin and tight, but I can't see any panty lines. The light grew dim as she turned into a blind isle, black leather jackets surrounded us, the smell of leather crawled into my brain and exploded as my cock ached with hardness. I don't know when I decided to fuck her, no, rape her, but when she reached the end of the row, and lifted a jacket from the hanger I struck. Three fast steps covered the distance, and one hand snaked out and clapped over her mouth as the other wrapped around and grabbed her by her cunt and lifted her bodily off her feet. She screamed and struggled as I threw her down on the ground, driving the wind from her lungs, and then I fell on her, wrestling with her, she spit in my face and I kissed her, she tried to bite me, and I slapped her hard. She froze and looked at me, her hand cradling the rising welt on her cheek. I stood above her and stripped slowly, shucking my pants off and stroking my dick once before she recovered from her shock and tried to scrabble away. I laughed, and grabbed her, fighting with her again, enjoying feeling her try to push me away as I lift her legs up and hook them over my shoulders. My hard dick is pressed against her fabric-covered pussy, weeping precome into the rough cotton seam dipping into her cunt. I shudder in pleasure at the look she gives me -- she knows. She knows she defeated, pinned on her back, her fragile cunt protected just by the strength of the fabric, and nothing else. I growl into her ear hoarsely, "I'm going to masturbate first, take the edge off. Then you're all mine." A sob breaks past her lips, but she fights even harder, as I dry hump her crotch, grinding my cock into her harder and harder as her legs beat a useless tattoo on my back. She spits on me, screams for help, screams curses, and I softly kiss her forehead and grind my dick into her harder, my both hands needed to keep her arms pin as she struggles hard against me. As she squirms, her thin top slides down slowly as she struggles, but defiantly hangs on above her nipples as I cum quickly, like I knew I would. I rock back and groan, each shot like a whipcrack to my mind, each spurt heavy with unleashed semen. She's dappled with cum from her cunt to her hairline. She freezes again, and I take my time to lick my seed off her, running my tongue over her erect cloth covered nipple, nibbling on it for a moment before licking the last few shots away from her face, tasting her sweat. I clamp a hand over her nose and kiss her, her mouth opens after a moment and I shovel the cum inside before she can resist. I move to clap her hand over her mouth, but she smiles lustily and swallows. I sneer at her, disappointed, "Get used to that taste; you're going to taste it often. I'm sure I can call some guys once I'm finished. We're going to have a party, in your honor. Too bad you're the party favor too..." I reach back and fumble with my discarded pants for a second until I find it; her eyes go wide as the knife opens with a loud click in the sudden silence. I let the knife slide lightly across her skin, the point scraping along across her forehead, down the line of her nose, and over her lips. Her tongue flicks out, licking the underside as I press it into her mouth. She nurses the blade, sucking on it like a whore while her eyes stay wide with fear and confusion. I pull the knife out slowly, and she releases it reluctantly her head following it upwards until she couldn't reach it anymore. I slide the edge down the center of her chest, until the blade rests against her top. Her eyes close, and her head tilts back, refusing to watch as I cut the top from her, but I stop, and wait. A minute passes, and her eyes open again in confusion, and with a jerk, the blade cuts through the thin top. She gasps as her breasts flop out, released. I bend down to suck on a nipple and then rock back, to gently guide the knife under the crotch of her pants and panties. I let the cold blade rest against the confined lips of her pussy for a moment before I rip the knife away, slicing through cotton like it was paper. I rock forward to lick a nipple and my rejuvenated dick rests against something hot, and very very wet. I smile at her as she blushes. I toss the knife away and pick her up, pulling the discarded leather jacket under her. I growl into her ear, emboldened, "Such a wet cunt for someone that doesn't want to be raped, mmm? Maybe you like it, mmm? Stroking your sloppy wet cunt late at night, dreaming of being treated like a bitch, a whore, a cunt to get other men off. Maybe you tried to get your husband to do it to you, to treat you like you disserved to be treated, roughly, disrespectfully, like an object. Maybe you dreamed of being a whore, tied to a desk at work, letting all the men and women use your body for whatever they wanted. Going home reeking of cum, sweat, and lubricants. I bet when you put this outfit on, you knew today was the day your deepest darkest fantasy would be fulfilled by a complete stranger." She shakes her head, but her cunt leaks all the harder. "Too bad I don't have a condom, I usually keep one, just in case I have to use it, but I didn't think I'd be fucking some whore when I left the house. Who knows, I might knock you up. Wouldn't that be nice? A little rapebaby brewing in your violated cunt?" She shook her head again, but she grew wetter. "You know, you're right, I am a sick man, where's my manners? If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say the word. Please stop raping me. Okay?" She looked at me flinging death in her gaze. I grinned and waited, but slowly rubbing my cock in the slickness pouring from her sloppy fuckhole. "Please..." she started, then blushed and looked away. "Please don't rape me." "What? I couldn't hear you." "Please don't rape me, sir!" she said rubbing her sopping cunt against me. I collapsed on top of her and let go of her arms. They weakly fought against me as I lined my cock up and drove it home. She yelped and started panting as I fucked her hard and as fast, drilling her hips into the concrete floor. "You forgot one thing, honey." My hands go to her nipples, "You can't rape the willing." I hiss and clamp my fingers tight, twisting and pulling her nipples hard. Dead End Job I had worked at the local drug store for about two years since dropping out of college. I had made the common mistake of focusing on beer and girls rather than my studies. Still living at with the folks at 21 and working a crappy job didn't exactly make me popular with the ladies back home. I hadn't had a steady girlfriend since high school and only a few quick flings since then. I had hit a dry spell as of late and was beginning to think that I would never get laid again. That was when they hired the new girl. Heather was six months younger than I was. She stood about 5'8, taller than the girls I usually go for. She had long, dark-brown hair with faint, dark-blonde streaks. It stopped just above her ass. Heather had a slim figure, about 115 pounds. She accentuated this often by wearing short sleeved, v-neck shirts that rode just above her belly button and showed just a hint of cleavage. She had small breasts but always wore a bra that exaggerated her true bust size. It seemed like she was always dressed in tight, low-cut jeans. They framed her small but perfectly formed ass. Heather really was quite beautiful. She had one of the prettiest faces I had ever seen. It was slim like the rest of her shapes, with high cheekbones, a small chin and a cute little button nose. Her eyes were by far her most striking features. They were the deepest shade of brown that almost made them look black. She had a glare that would send shivers down your spine. It seemed like she was looking right into you. It took a while before we warmed up to one another. She later told me that when we first met she thought I was mean looking and was afraid to talk to me. I told her that I had the impression she was a bitch. I guess working a dead-end job can make you come across that way to other people. We always worked the late shift together, and after a few months, became friends. As it turned out, I wasn't the mean guy she though I was and she was rather sweet as well. When it was near closing time we would go out back and grab a quick smoke and chat for a few minutes. After work we sometimes went to the tavern across the street from the store to have a few beers and shoot some pool. It was on one of these occasions that we became closer than I had ever thought we would. It had been quite a rough night at work. Bitchy customers and long hours made us eager to blow off some steam. We took her car to the bar for another night of drinks and pool. It was out of the ordinary, but we ended up staying until last call. We both had quite a buzz so I left my car at the bar and drove hers to my place. She said she wasn't comfortable driving home in her present state so I invited her inside. My parents were out of town for the week so I cranked up the stereo and grabbed a couple of beers out of the fridge. We sang along to the music and chatted for a little while before we decided to watch a movie. We went to my room and I popped in a tape. We crawled up into my lofted bed and lay across it as we watched the tape. About a half-hour later we both nodded off. When I awoke, I had to squint to see the television as it was so bright and the room was dark. The credits rolled in the movie we had fallen asleep to. We must have been out for about an hour or so. I grabbed the remote, turned off the television, moved my pillow to the head of the bed and laid my head down to go to sleep for the night. To my surprise, she too awoke and crawled up beside me. I was lying on my right side and she was facing me. I pulled the comforter over both of us and fell asleep once again. I soon woke up once again and found that she had moved even closer to me and our bodies were now pressed up against each other. I slid my arm under her head and rolled onto my back. She put her forehead in the crook of my neck, slid closer, laid her right arm across me and crossed her right leg over mine. She seemed to be shivering so I moved my right hand to her back and began rubbing it. We lay like that for a while, just enjoying the warmth of our combined body heat. She was wearing a rather thin blouse and I could feel the clasp of her bra through the light material. She began rubbing my shoulder. I took this as a signal to get closer and rolled on my side once again to face her. I place my left hand on the small of her back. Her shirt had ridden up and I had my hand on bare skin. Something about this touch sent a charge through my body and I could feel myself starting to get hard. I started to run my hand slowly on the small of her back, slightly up her shirt, to her waist and back again. She reciprocated by rubbing my shoulder even more, then sliding it down my arm and up the sleeve of my T-shirt to feel my muscled shoulder. I let my hand roam down towards her ass, feeling the top of her pants and finally pushing down the back of them. She was wearing a satin thong, which only served to heighten my arousal. We were now both breathing quite heavily, as I could hear the air being expelled through her nose. I opened my mouth and let out an excited sigh. This triggered her to do the same and I could feel her hot breath on my face. We continued our rubbing each other until we were almost writhing against one another. I leaned my head down to kiss her and found her mouth slightly parted. I placed my lips on hers and pressed. She pressed back and we shared the warmest, most sensual kiss I have ever experienced. Our mouths parted briefly until she once again pressed her mouth to mine. This time I could feel her tongue protruding slightly and I extended mine to meet it. I caressed her tongue with mine then set off to explore the rest of her kiss. I ran my tongue under the inside of her upper lip, returned to her tongue briefly before lightly nibbling her bottom lip. Our breathing accelerated noticeably as we started to really make out. We were still caressing each other's bodies, but now with increased fervor. I was now running my palm all the way up her back under her shirt before plunging down the back of her jeans. Finding too much resistance to proceed further, I reached around to the front of her waist and unbuttoned the top of her pants. Now free from obstruction I returned my palm to the back of her pants. I traced the outline of her thong before fully grasping her petite ass cheek. I squeezed and she moaned into my mouth. Our legs were now completely entwined and I could feel my erection pressing into her. I lifted my leg and my knee was firmly embedded in her crotch. She ground her pubic bone into the top of my thigh. We were no longer two bodies but one, writhing mass of warmth. This continued for a while before she rolled onto her back, breaking our kiss. As I stared down upon her, she began to unbutton her blouse. The faint light that was filtering through the window revealed button by button, more and more of her torso to me. She opened her blouse and I could see the outline of her black push-up bra contrasted by her pale skin. I placed my hand on her stomach and felt the softest, warmest form I had ever touched. I continued my movement to the side of her waist and up her ribs to bottom of her bra. I cupped her covered right breast in my left palm as I leaned down to resume our kiss. She once again moaned and plunged her tongue deep into my mouth. Now fully engorged, I slid my hand under the bottom of her bra and felt her small but ample tit. Her nipple was hard and responded to my touch. I massaged her breast before sliding my hand back down her tummy to the top of her unbuttoned jeans. I unzipped her pants and put my hand back on her stomach before sliding the tips of my fingers just under the top of her soft satin panties. I proceeded further until I could feel the soft wisps of the top of her bush. She lifted her hips to encourage me to go even further down. I slid my palm as far as down her panties as I could. She parted her legs and I cupped her mound in my palm. She let out a whimper and I started to move my palm around, feeling her lips and pubic hair in my hand. I ran my middle finger down her crevice and found that she was quite wet. I massaged her clit and then slowly slid my finger into her warm hole. I finger fucked her while we made out until she grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand from her sex. She rolled onto her side and brought herself up to her elbow so she could remove her blouse and now displaced bra. She pushed me to my back and rolled over until she was straddling me. She pulled my shirt up and I raised my torso to accommodate her. She pressed her breasts into my chest while leaning in to kiss me again. Her long hair fell all about me and tickled my neck and shoulders. I grabbed her hips and pressed them down while I raised mine to grind my now throbbing member into her. She rocked forward and back again. We were now dry humping. She lifted her chest from mine and I raised my head to take her protruding nipple into my mouth. I sloppily mouthed her tit while she held me around the back of my head, running her fingers through my short hair. She rolled off of me and reached down to unzip her boots. I sat up and leaned down to help her. Off came her boots and socks, followed by her jeans. I laid back and she began to unzip my pants. I kicked off my shoes and socks, and helped her take my pants off. We were now both dressed in only our underwear. She once again straddled me and leaned down to kiss me. Our pelvises ground into one another's and she slid back and forth rubbing my cock along the line of her now soaking wet cunt, which was outlined by her slippery panties. I rolled her over onto her back and kissed my way down her body. She shuddered in pleasure as I neared the top of her underwear. I lingered there for a bit, giving her wet kisses around her belly button. Her legs parted and I continued down and lightly mouthed her covered pussy before moving to her inner thighs. As I kissed them I slid her thong to the side and effortlessly slid my index finger into her juicy cunt. While I fucked her with my digit I put my thumb on her clit and began to rub it back and forth. I slid a second finger into her and searched for her g-spot. Finding it I ran my fingers along the inside the front of her pussy until she could take no more and finally came, bucking against my hand. I withdrew my fingers and put them in my mouth to taste her wetness. It was slick and had a distinctive taste that made me even more eager to lick her slit. I placed my hands on either side of her hips and slid my fingers around the waist of her panties, pulling them down slowly until they cleared her ass. I slid them down her thighs, past her knees and off of her legs before casting them aside. I took station at her lightly trimmed bush and reaching under her hips grabbed her by the top of her thighs. I leaned in and running my tongue from the side of her outer lips traced around her pussy. I slid my tongue inside one lip and licking up the length of one side and then the other. I flattened my tongue and pressed it against her clit then circled all around it. I moved down slightly and placed the tip of my tongue at her entrance and slithered it into her juicy hole. The warmth was unbelievable as her wetness streamed and covered my whole face. She came again and I struggled to keep my mouth on her sex. She grabbed me by the hair, pulled me up and ordered me to fuck her immediately. I removed my underwear and rose to my knees, inching up to her cunt. My cock lie on her pubic region and she reached down and rubbed her wetness to draw lubrication. She grasped my dick in her hand and fisted it slowly sending waves of pleasure through my body. She released it and I leaned down bracing myself by placing my hands on either side of her and kissed her deeply on more time. I took my cock in hand at the base and placed it at the opening of her cunt. I rubbed the tip up and down the length of her slit before I entered her ever so slightly. She raised her hips, trying to draw me in, and I lurched forward slowly until I was fully enveloped by her velvety soft sheath. Not a word was spoken as I slowly thrust in and out of her. Just sighing and moaning could be heard as we fucked. I leaned down as our pace quickened. We kissed briefly and I removed my mouth from hers and began to lightly suckle on her earlobe. I nibbled her neck and she threw her arms around me, pulling me closer. She wrapped her legs around my waist, urging me to fuck her with more vigor. My eyes popped open and I was looking right into her dark, piercing eyes. I thrust even faster and she opened her mouth, seemingly wanting to say something. However, she said nothing. She just whimpered softly and squinted her eyebrows together as if grimacing in pain. The look on her face and shuddering of her breath as she approached orgasm started to send me over the edge. I felt a tingling in my balls and I slowed slightly, trying to prolong the pleasure. As she came, she lifted her hips and ground her pubic bone into me. She started gyrating and I could no longer control the onset of the inevitable. I buried myself as deeply as I could and came hard, shooting stream after stream of cum into her wetness. We both exhaled deeply and remained motionless as the plateau subsided. I rolled off and lay next to her. I reached a hand around and grasped her behind the head and lifted her lips to mine for one last warm, deep, wet kiss. I let her head down and she snuggled close to me. As we drifted off to sleep, I knew that going to work at a dead end job would be much more exciting than I ever thought it could be. Dead Ends A writer, whether of erotica or any other genre, seldom has a chance to share with his or her readers partial stories--ideas which didn't, for whatever reason--and there are a hundred possibilities (at least)--just didn't make it. "Stillborn stories," one might call them. In this post, I share a couple of such dead ends with Literotica readers, who are invited to complete them if they can (and wish to) do so or simply profit by another writer's mistakes. I also offer my take on how I might have completed the story ideas, had my own interest in them not flagged, and why I think, for me, at least, the storylines ultimately failed to sustain my interest and imagination. The first offering was tentatively called "Manhandler": * * * My job is simple: I'm a masseuse (code word for prostitute). It used to be fun, too, but, after a while--well, let's just say the thrill is gone. I mean, how many cocks can a girl suck or fuck until the novelty's worn off? (In my case, I reckon the number at about 3,000.) So, I don't suck or fuck anymore. I've come up with an alternative that's quicker and more lucrative. I operate a "massage" business. Only my massages don't include the head, the neck, the shoulders, the back, the arms, the chest, the abs, the ass, the thighs, the calves, the hands, or the feet. What's left? The only parts that count. The manly parts. The cock and balls. That's what men really want to be "massaged," after all, anyway. Cut to the chase, I say (but not, ordinarily, in front of my clients; since the Lorena Bobbitt caper, naked men are understandably a little wary of the word "cut" when it's used in the proximity of their genitals.) I've become something of an expert in "helping" men to achieve orgasm or, actually, ejaculation (because that's what men mean by "orgasm"; a climax occurs only when ejaculation does, and a climax doesn't happen until ejaculation occurs). I tell them right up front, "Your session lasts just as long as it takes for me to make you cum." I charge $20 a head (pun intended), and I can get the typical macho man off in three minutes, so, as you might imagine, I make good money splattering my parlor with their semen. Most men cum pretty quickly for a good-looking piece of shemale ass like me. Since I'm a girl with something "extra," I also know, more than most women, how to bring a guy quickly to the point of no return. Hell, I've practiced on myself since I was old enough to know what a hard-on, so there'd be something wrong with me if I didn't know the basics by now. I have my clients sit in a waiting room, just as if they were at a doctor's or a dentist's office, where they can chat up my lipstick lesbian receptionist, Sheila Simpson. They don't know she's a lesbo. If they did, it would take the fun out of their cat-and-mouse games with her. They think, poor schmucks, that they might actually have a chance of sweet talking Sheila into a date. She plays along, gamely enough for a lesbian, but she knows, just as I know, that none of the assholes waiting his turn for a "massage" by my magical hands has the slightest hope in hell of scoring with her. Sheila's pussy is strictly a no-man's land. * * * Planned Trajectory: I had envisioned this story as a fantasy in which the protagonist hires a pair of Siamese twins with four arms (and, consequently, four arms), who is able to manually service--or "manhandle"--as many johns simultaneously. Proving to be a huge asset to the massage parlor's business, the twins have one problem, which proves fatal. They're really a he, a transsexual, who, when their secret (male genitals) is discovered when a "massage" session gets literally out of hand, is killed by a homophobic client. Reason for the Boot: I booted this would-be story because it got away from the main character, becoming more about the transsexual Siamese twins than it would have been about the masseuse. Plus the focus slipped away in other ways, too: was it a story about masturbation, about a transsexual, about group sex, about fetishism, about--well, you see what I mean. * * * Next, I present you with some "Dark Meat": Dark meat. I never much cared for it myself. Not until I met Rod. I think his parents must have named him after his cock. Even as an infant, he must have had a huge one. Monsters the size of his rod don't just grow from nothing. He likes white boys. Not men. Boys. Only black guys have the right, he says, to be called "men." What white guys have between their legs, Rod claims, is nothing more than a teenager might have. White boys are inferior to black men not only in penis size, but also physically and sexually. Since manhood is a matter of physical and sexual, not mental, prowess, he says, black males should be considered men, and white males should be regarded as boys. There's nothing racist about his views, he says. To Rod, such statements are purely factual. He can't understand, he tells me, why a brother would want to fuck or be sucked by another brother, any more than he can see why a black man would want to be fucked or to suck any other guy, regardless of color. Black men who suck or let themselves be fucked, he says, are a "disgrace to the race." That's what women, especially white women, and white boys are for. Any fool knows that, he insists. "You be here to serve and service me, bitch," Rod reminds me every time I wash his laundry, polish his car, cook his dinner, suck his cock, or take his prick up my ass. "Yes, Master," I tell him, because he makes me respond to such declarations in this manner and because I agree with him that black men are superior to white boys. Look at professional sports. Look at penis size. Look at which women are chasing which men--it's white women who are after black men, not black women chasing white boys. If you haven't tried black meat, my advice is to sample some as soon as you can. Once you've had black, you'll never go back! Rod's rod is a foot long. No shit. It is. A full twelve inches of thick, hard, beautiful, circumcised manhood. Imagine having that shoved down your throat or up your ass! It's heaven! His dick isn't chocolate or caramel; it's coal black, pitch black, moonless midnight black. Authentic black, I guess one could say. The color an African, rather than an African-American, prick is. There's no white boy in the Ramsey family woodpile, he tells me. His father is as dark as his father, his grandfather, and his great-grandfathers were. "There ain't no white taint to my bloodline," he tells me all the time, but especially when he sees a dude with African features and blue or green eyes. Such mulattos, he says, are "traitors to the race." Rod is the real deal, though, just like his forebears. The purity of his ethnicity is a source of pride to him. That's why he fucks white boys, rather than white women. "I ain't taking no chance of impregnating some honky bitch with my Africanized sperm. I'm keeping my seed pure, for when I do want to start a family. Till then, you my bitch." It may be selfish of me to admit it, but I hope he puts off that decision forever. I don't want to lose Rod to anyone, even to the black woman with whom he might want to have children someday. I'm quite happy as his "bitch," believe me! * * * Planned Trajectory: I write a lot of my stories without plotting them in advance, usually on the basis of an idea or, perhaps, some particular type of character, and trust to my own interests and peculiarities of thought to inspire a definite direction, purpose, and theme. Sometimes, an image or a video clip gets my motor humming, suggesting the idea for a story. Watching some black hunks slam it to some white punks suggested "Dark Meat," but there was little else, once I began the story, which I'd envisioned as a BDSM piece in which a black hunk slams it--both literally, or sexually, and figuratively, or emotionally--to a white punk, the excitement sort of vanished, the way orgasm gives way to ejaculation. In this case, the inspiration simply wasn't forthcoming. Reason for the Boot: See above; also, like the protagonist of this would-be story, I've never cared all that much for dark meat, although I'm sure that it's perfectly good to eat. * * * Note: See my "Openers" for other ideas that could become stories, just as Pinocchio became a real boy.