0 comments/ 33189 views/ 3 favorites Slow Day By: Otzchiim I was fascinated by the way the young woman looked. She was obviously partly of Hispanic ancestry, and even more obviously partly of something oriental -- Korean, as I came to find out. I had stopped in the Double-T Diner for a slightly late lunch on my run making UPS deliveries, and she was just coming out of the bathroom when I got my food. She saw me looking at her and was annoyed at first, then she smiled at me. It would be an exaggeration to say that she was flirting with me; the meeting and circumstances were too casual for that. She was just giving me a somewhat approving glance. I get that often, I'll have to admit. No credit to me for it, or anyway not much. All my family are large and muscular and it does not take much to keep us in shape. The downside, for me at least, was that all through high school and college I had football coaches after me to be on the team, and I wanted nothing to do with that. Partly because it would cut into studying, mostly because I felt jocks were stupid and the coaches worse. Yes, college, even if I was a UPS driver. The newspapers, or anyway the local one, talked about how great the economy was under Clinton, but I still couldn't get an engineering job. So I worked with my muscles, first at delivering appliances for Sears, then at a raise in pay doing similarly for UPS. They tended to give me the heavier items there, but I could hardly object -- kind of liked it, in fact. Anyway, that woman was just noting me as somebody nice- looking, about her age, whom she would probably never see again. Certainly when she walked out the door a half-minute ahead of me, that was about what I expected, so I watched her rear while I had the chance. Nice one, too. I had only one package left to drop off that day, and that was a small one, for a computer game company on Shawan Road in Hunt Valley, one of the dozen or so up there. It was a slow day, and after this last delivery I would call back in to see if there was an unexpected pickup or whether I should just head back in. Since it was Friday they might even let me go home early. (The trucks were not going to be in with more packages until I was off duty, else they would have put me on unloading.) The woman was evidently parked out around back, since she wasn't visible when I got outside. As I was turning to drive out, I spotted her getting into -- maybe being put into -- the back seat of a large car, with a man getting in with her whom I hadn't seen in the diner. And he was also getting in the back seat. That might be nothing, but I went a little slow to see if they would pass me on Loch Raven, and they did. I looked out the window and down a little to try to catch her eye. She looked up with a pleading expression; I think waving would have attracted the attention of the (three, I saw now) men in the car, and she wanted to avoid that. I nodded to her, and picked up the cell-phone they build into the trucks. I called 911. "This is UPS truck 4732, on Loch Raven Boulevard headed north. I can't be sure, but I think I may have just witnessed an abduction." "Is the vehicle in sight now?" "Right ahead of me. Chevy Nova, don't know the year, but the license plate is 972-258. Dark blue, three men and a young woman. She's the one I think they took." "That's good. Descriptions on the men?" "No. Only saw one for a second before the car started moving. I know what she looks like, she was in the diner I ate in." "Well, I'll take what you've got." And I gave it. "Bad news," he said then. "All the patrol cars are some distance off. Could you try to keep them in sight until we send somebody over the beltway?" "Ich kann nicht anders." "Excuse me, could you repeat that?" "Nothing. Something they told me in Sunday School." Though it got the fellow who said it in a lot of trouble. "Yes, if you don't think it'll cause trouble for her when they think I'm following them. Or trouble for me if they've got guns," I said. And as I said it, I realized: nobody ever notices a UPS truck. I should be safe. The car headed out Loch Raven for a couple of miles, with me watching for their turn signal while trying to not be too close behind, then it took a left on Timonium Road heading over toward the fair-grounds. This was actually reasonable for me, since it was toward Hunt Valley, but the opposite way from where the police were heading. I called the police dispatcher again. "We have two cars in Cockeysville who should get there not long after the vehicle hits York Road -- if they go that far." "Cockeysville! The ones heading from Towson would be closer." "Yes, but this is a straight shot." I still grumbled. Every time I went by the 7-11 near the fairgrounds there was a police car there. Why not now? The car ahead started to get suspicious, or maybe they were preparing to stop. In any case they slowed down, and I had no choice but to keep going past them. I told the police that. What I should do from here on was not clear to me, and I thought about it for half a mile. I said to myself: "Once to every man and nation Comes the moment to decide When to bet them, when to fold them, When to sit and let it ride." Which is not quite the way we sang it in church, but I like my version better. The best I could do, I felt, was to pull to the side just past where we could see each other and hope that they came by -- or didn't come by, if they really were stopping. That at least would give the police a general area where they would be. I got out of the truck in front of a house, so when they drove past I could seem to have just delivered something. As it turned out they were still suspicious. The delay was still not enough for the patrol cars. The car I followed kept going beyond York Road. Another mile and they could get on the Jones Falls Expressway, which would be another whole kettle of fish and a messy one. They could be in another jurisdiction or two in a few minutes. And I couldn't legally follow them on the expressway. The last part I don't think they knew, though, or they wouldn't have stopped. The car pulled up outside one of the office complexes opposite the Steak and Egg, running onto the lawn and then coming back off. The three men piled out as I stopped the truck, and headed toward me. A loud banging started coming from the car when they did; that was all the woman could do, as it turned out, since they had her bound. They did not have guns, but they did have knives. Ouch. I figured that all I would have to do was slow them down, hold them for a minute until the cops showed up. Then it occurred to me that the last update I gave the dispatcher was before we crossed York Road. Oh, well... "He who would save his life must give it up," I muttered, knowing that the man who said that one got nailed. The office workers, however, saw us. The county police department got several calls at the same time giving a description and location, at least one per floor from the building on the corner. The three men tried to circle around me, so I hopped up the embankment to back against a large tree. That also made them come at me uphill. Now as I said, I don't like football. It was drilled into my brothers and I (and my sister) how easy it was for us to hurt somebody if we weren't careful, so we only rough-housed with each other for the most part. There were only four of us, counting June, but judo was fine for four. The first one came at me with a six-inch blade in his hand and went into the tree hard. He was out of it. The second one stayed out of reach trying repeatedly to lure me from the tree, and finally threw his knife. I barely moved aside in time, or really I didn't, since I tore my shirt moving away from where the point had gone through the cloth and stuck in the tree. The third man had gone out of sight, so I just hoped he stayed there while I shook the second man's right arm enough to cause him a lot of pain. The drop to the street helped, since most of him made it there before his arm did. (I mean, it stayed attached, but I held onto it.) The third man came at me from the back, around the side of the tree. I encouraged him to keep going, and he landed on the hood of the cop car that had just shown up. The three men, I was told, were part of a setup that regularly took relatives of newly-wealthy executives, sometimes kind of heavily persuading ones that were slow to pay. Ones too newly-wealthy to have worried about security or bodyguards. They had planned to take this girl, the daughter of a computer entrepreneur, and have the money and let her go within 24 hours. In this case they had not had time to make a ransom demand. I had kind of figured that this would be the end of my involvement. No such luck. I had to drive down to the Towson courthouse, fill out all kinds of papers, swear to a bunch of things, and get a court-date. After the local trial, the men would be turned over to the feds on old kidnapping -- and mutilation --charges. (Not everybody paid right away.) The young woman who had been abducted handed over her car keys to the police so they could go get it from the lot of the Double-T Diner, where it had been left when she was taken. She (Maria Sanchez was her name I learned) talked to me when we were not both being interviewed, maybe to keep our minds off the bureaucratic nonsense. She was as nice at that as to look at. I started getting annoyed after two hours of procedures (the chase was less than 30 minutes) and asking if I could get going up to Hunt Valley to deliver that one last package. The young woman, the kidnapee, looked up at me when I gave the address and she asked for the company name. (She'd been there through all the paperwork, or most of it -- I guess she had some of her own.) I told her: "Jeux de Compute. Why?" I remembered it because it was a bilingual name. "Would you be off the hook if an employee signed for it?" she asked. "Well, yes." She flashed an ID. "I'm one. My father owns it." That took care of that, I had to say. She had heard a lot of the personal information I had given the police, and she asked a few more questions. Then she ducked to the other end of the arraigning room we were in and used a telephone there. Soon she motioned me back and handed me the reciever. "This is Rafael Sanchez. I understand you have gotten my daughter out of a bad situation, and that you are, let's say overqualified for the job you have. Have you worked with computer games?" "Computers, yes. Games, not really." "I think we can work something out; the training shouldn't be much more. And you make deliveries already. Any objection to flying them on an airliner?" "Uh, no." "Can you start Monday? Don't know what you make now, but we will pay more for certain." "Uh, yes, I can. My supervisor might not like it, but I guess he can live with it." Actually, whether he liked it was not a factor. When I got the truck back to the garage, my boss ran me up one side and down the other for endangering company property, and ended the hour of harangue by firing me. So I didn't even get to tell him about quitting. Somehow the firing didn't bother me that much. I got into my beat-up little Honda and drove home. Had to park three blocks away. It was still a very up-and-down day. I walked down the street to my apartment building and saw the old lady who acts as the resident manager in return for a reduced rent there. Mainly this means that she keeps a set of keys to all the apartments and tells us why things haven't been fixed yet -- though the place is not really bad in that direction. She was standing on the corner talking to one of her neighborhood cronies, and she smiled at me, mouthed something, and pointed up to my apartment. I did not know what that was about, so I just headed in. I guessed that I would find out later. When I let myself in I noticed right away that things had been moved. The week's worth of newspapers had been gathered and stacked, the book I had been reading last night was neatly squared with the table edge, bookmarked, and closed instead of sitting open as was usual. And the dishes had been done and were drying. This was all explained (though other questions came up, and more than questions) when I turned and saw a naked Maria Sanchez standing in my bedroom doorway. "I told the woman downstairs that I was going to meet you here to go out, but you were late. She said that since I would need a key to get out of your apartment, she would let me in to wait for you... "I wanted to thank you in my own way!" And I found my arms full of a warm, soft, eager woman. The only thing wrong with the situation was that I could not both hold her to me and appreciate the sight of her beautiful body -- though I did stare longingly at it later, after some other things had happened. There was also the point that Maria would feel better pressed to me if I were not fully clothed, but she helped take care of that. Soon, my arms reached all the way around her to massage the small of her back as I held her body against mine. Our tongues twisted around each other as I leaned her back a little, my erection was burning into her belly, and Maria was standing on her toes -- perhaps to indicate where she wanted that burning log to go, only on the inside. I reached one hand to caress the area between her legs and her tongue jumped in my mouth, then she broke away to rest her head on my shoulder and press my hips closer to me. Then I slid my penis against her entrance and she started to whimper. "I--I want you so much!" she said. Certainly when I picked her up and lay her on my bed, she was wet and ready for me. She gave a gasp as her interior walls moved apart with my first entry, and it took only a few strokes before I was buried in her completely and she was building already to an orgasm. While she did not have my sort of big-boned ancestry, she was also muscular and athletic, I found. Her stamina took her through another shuddering climax, and then we moved slowly to build to a third where her internal muscles made things very good for both of us as she nursed the semen out of me and deep into her. What she cried out at that moment was not Spanish -- it may have been Korean, or of no language at all except primal. As I have said, I gazed at her body after that, long and admiringly. Her breasts hung perfectly, her waist was well- proportioned, and her face had an expression combining satisfaction and happiness with a slowly reawakening appetite. She suggested after a while that we shower together. This of course meant that we were soon standing together nude once more, arms around, but without the deep kissing. More sliding of hands, of course, between the soap and the water. That got me remembering some other sliding we had done. A little after my erection had grown all the way back up again -- not long, in that situation -- Maria reached to turn the water off and sank to her knees. Her mouth stretched wide to take me in, and she took more of my length into her than I would have thought she could. I expected to take more time to build to a conclusion, but either I was more aroused than usual or she was very skilled at this -- I lean toward the latter. When I warned her that I was about to erupt, she worked harder, and soon I was shooting down her throat while having trouble staying on my feet -- I almost said staying erect, but no, hardly that way. Back at the horizontal, I built her to a series of slow peaks with my lips and tongue. It was morning before she left. What she had told her father about where she was I never knew. It had been an incredible day. Though the best part of it lasted for months, until she got serious with someone else. Slow Day The day was cold and gray. The only upside was that the cold and snow meant less traffic and people about so it was quiet. On the downside, it was boring. I was halfway reclined on the couch surfing the channels on the TV hoping against hope. It yielded nothing of interest so I stared blankly out the window. The falling flakes danced on a gentle breeze as they fell lightly to the ground. That lasted for all of five minutes and I was back to my boredom. Buster, my cocker spaniel, lay sleeping on a rug and not interested in any kind of play. I raised my leg and gave myself a couple of swipes. It had possibilities but even that seemed old hat and routine. I hate that feeling. Very much wanting to do something but knowing it won't be quite as good as you think if even worth the effort. I needed something to jazz things up. I thought for a moment then got an idea. I went upstairs and dug out an old blue skirt I hadn't worn for some time. I turned it inside out and took scissors to the pockets. I slipped out of my clothes and put on the skirt with a blue and white striped blouse. I finished dressing and making myself presentable in public then drove to the mall. Walking from the car to the front door made me seriously reconsider my decision regarding underwear. When a strong gust blew through, I had two reasons to be glad the skirt hung down passed my knees. Oh, why aren't there ever any parking spaces closer to the door? I bathed in the rush of heat for a moment when I entered the building then noticed the sounds and smells. Video games blasted from the Arcade mingling in the air with the aroma of fresh bread and cookies. People walked about doing their shopping. I slipped my hands into what used to be my pockets and strolled casually looking in the shop windows. I glanced nonchalantly around then gave myself a quick swipe with a finger. A jewelry store had samples displayed in the window in the traditional black trays and I took a chance backing up so I could better see my reflection in the glass as everyone else sees me. I felt it might be best if I used one hand to avoid the front of my skirt bouncing while I had my play with the other. And just to make it interesting, I would linger at shops where I would have to bend forward to get a better look at their wares. I used the opportunity to give my clit some play. At one shop, the shopkeeper came out to talk and try to make a sale. Little did he know that my fingers were probing inside myself feeling the wetness build and teasing my clit for all it was worth. His practiced speech made for the perfect cover of my moans. What he thought was genuine interest was the growing fire I was fanning with each stroke. The look of shock on his face when I left without buying anything was priceless. A blonde walked by going in the opposite direction. We exchanged smiles. I felt a sharp jolt shoot through as my eyes glanced down at her more than adequate bosom. A part of me wanted to approach her and make friends with her. Hopefully, good friends. I took a quick glance back and was thrilled again at the sight of her jeans hugging her butt as though one was made for the other. Looking around at the people gave me sensations all over my body I had never felt before. Even my hair felt somehow electrified. It was intoxicating. I felt light-headed and wanted more. My breathing deepened. My body quivered slightly but not so as to notice and my heart pounded within my chest. I could feel my juices trace thin streams down my fingers. I needed release but I knew I couldn't do it here. A nearby clothing store provided the perfect solution. The elderly greeter smiled and I smiled back. I roamed the store casually then stopped beside a circular rack of clothes next to the wall waiting for the inevitable. "May I help you", the clerk asked with a broad smile. I had to stifle a laugh at the question letting only a polite smile to show on my lips. It didn't help that she had a steadfast look of eagerness on her face and her eyes were wide with an undeniable glint of willingness. You would think that she would have done anything to please. "No, thanks. I'm just browsing." "Okay. If you need me, I'll be over here," she said pointing. My mouth may have said, "no thanks" but my mind was saying, "yes, get down on your knees and please me". She walked away and I stepped between the rack and the wall. I spread my legs slightly to let my fingers back in. I rifled through the clothes as though my moans were sounds of approval at the selection just as I had earlier. A rather noticeable "Oo" slipped out. Thinking fast, I grabbed the first hanger I could lay my hand on and removed it from the rack so it would appear I was getting a closer look. A quick glance around showed that no one seemed to pay it any mind. I could feel the fire growing. It would not be long now. I bent slightly to allow a more inconspicuous freedom of movement with my hands and I took full advantage of it. No matter what, I was getting too close to stop now. My fingers worked their magic in anticipation of what was to come. My clit happily sprang against my vigorous strokes. "Lillian, hi. I am so glad I ran into you," a voice said. I straightened and turned. It was a friend. She turned and began fishing something out of her purse. At the moment I saw who it was, I felt a deep, sharp stab of pleasure as my orgasm began. The sensation was almost more than I could bear. I wasn't sure if I could at all. "I had it here the other day," my friend muttered under her breath. My body quivered from top to bottom. My legs became weak and wobbly. I resigned myself to enjoying it no matter what. It was all I could do from calling out. Somehow, the feeling of being "caught" made it all the more pleasurable as well as it happening right in front of her. It seemed to take forever to pass. Like every second was a minute. My heart beat so rapidly in my chest that I thought it would stop altogether. I was thankful that the view from the register was blocked by a "$1.00 OFF" sign on top of the rack as the milk of my passion flowed forth. "Here it is." My friend drew an envelope from her purse and handed it to me. I wiped my hand off on my leg as I took it from my pocket and reached for it. I wanted to take it and put my hand away as quickly as possible but she saw things differently. She held onto it even after I grabbed it. "It's an invitation", she said, "to our annual New Year's Eve party. I debated about having to go to the trouble of having it printed up since you know you're always welcomed at our house." I thanked her and she excused herself to run more errands. Feeling relaxed and very pleased, I casually walked toward the door still basking in the afterglow. My legs were still a bit shaky but I did what I could to hide it. A couple of klip-klops behind me heralded someone's shoe slipping a bit as they walked through where I had stood. "Thank you for stopping by", the cashier called out, "Come again." "Oh, I intend to," I replied. A quick stop at the rest room to wash up and it was back home. Slow Day at College Bar & Grill When I was a junior in college I worked at a popular student bar/grill. Some of my best friends today came out of this four year experience and one of the most erotic happenings to ever occur to me happened at said bar. A good friend of mine, Spaz had had friends with benefits sex with this girl Pam at the bar and he spent hours describing her perfect pussy and white pasty body. He talked her up so much that every time I was around her I got hard. Soon I found myself working the boring shifts with just this girl and the mexican cook who never left the kitchen. After about a week straight of slow business, I mustered up enough balls to ask her what I had wanted to since Spaz had told me about her. We were rolling silverware, standing at different corners behind the bar. "Pam, can I ask you something personal and you wont get mad or creeped out?" "Sure Joe. Anything," she replied as she came over to face me and put her hand on my forearm, tilting her face in interest. "Gee, I don't know. Never mind, Pam." "No. what? I swear, you can ask me or tell me anything Joe, we're friends." "Okay. But seriously, ignore the question if it makes you uncomfortable and know that I would never do anything to hurt our friendship." "Okay, shoot." "All right, but don't get creeped out." "Just ask me damnit!" she said as she slapped my shoulder. "Okay. Well, can I see your pussy?" Silence. Her mouth kind of fell open and she had this shocked look on her face, but she wasn't mad for some reason. "You've got a girlfriend mister!" "My asking is pure curiosity, I don't want to damage my relationship with her, I'm just completely fascinated by your body and would love to think about it in the future." "For what? When you whack off at night?" "Among other things yeah. But these things aren't regulated to just happening at night," I replied as I giggled and leaned into the bar to stare at her. She stood there thinking about it for a few minutes as we both continued to roll silverware. Then she slammed down the roll she was completing and said "Okay. Let's go into the dry storage room and I'll show you. But NO touching!" I smiled and agreed as soon as she finished talking. She grabbed my hand and lead me into the kitchen where she yelled to the cook in Spanish something that translated to, "Joe and myself were going to go finish the end of the month inventory and we don't want to be disturbed!" She then marched me across the hall into the dry storage area, closed the door and blocked it with a huge can of marinara sauce. She stood staring at me with her hands on her hips for about two minutes when she pointed at a stack of condiments and told me to sit and to keep my hands where she could see them. Pam then turned around and undid her waist apron and her jeans. She slowly rocked her jeans off from side to side until they were down at her ankles. She kicked them off while keeping her shoes on. She took a deep breath and put her hands back on her hips and stared at me again. Her panties were a sheer pink material that was just a hair wider than a thong so it really accentuated her bottom and covered area around her pussy. I couldn't stop staring and could feel myself straining below my apron. She took a step forward and said, "If I do this for you, then you have to do something for me." I nodded, my gaze still fixated on her lush body, repeating, "Anything, anything," over and over again. She took another step forward and slowly pulled her panties down to her knees then turned around to bend over to remove them the rest of the way. She tossed her panties at me but they hit me in the chest then fell to the floor in front of me. I was awestruck at what was standing before me; the whitest smoothest skin I had ever seen in all my 21 years. Pam had just a faint whispy landing strip of brown hair, not too thick, but exactly what I had imagined it would look like after all the times Spaz had described her to me. It was perfect. I couldn't speak; I just stared for a few minutes. She finally pushed at my stomach and said, "Now it's your turn to do what I want you to do." "Wha-wha-what do you want me to do?" I stammered. She smiled and said, "Prove that I turn you on. Let me see you practice what you do all alone. Don't hold anything back. I need to remember this forever." I again found myself speechless. I simply nodded and ripped off every inch of clothing until I was standing there buck ass naked with a hard on from hell swinging around. Pam stood there smiling and watching me, wearing just her work polo, socks and shoes. I told her I wouldn't last long because she was so hot. She dismissed that thought with a wave of her hand and a gesture like she wanted things to get moving. I told her to remove the rest of her clothes before I started and she quickly obliged, still reminding me I had a girlfriend. "I know. I stand by what I said earlier. But like you said, I want to remember this forever." She removed the rest of her clothes and her beautiful pussy was matched in beauty by her upper body. C cups, medium sized erect nipples, brown shiny hair flowing around her shoulders. God Damn!! As I started jacking off for her she got on her knees in front of me which startled me a little. She placed her hand reassuringly on my knee and said, "I just need to see this up close. Don't worry." I breathed a sigh of agreeance and began to masturbate slowly for her. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back. I alternated between each of my nipples, pinching slightly then felt under my balls. I pushed in on my ass with my finger while putting a foot up on a large jar of pickles. She kneeled just inches from my cock, licked her lips and soon began playing with herself as I continued to masturbate just millimeters from her forehead. Her breathing became heavy and she started blowing on my excited cock, moaning silently. As she moved her attention from my cock to my eyes, she leaned her head back and came like a fireman's hose, dripping onto the concrete floor. Watching her climax brought me to the edge of my own and I announced I was about to come. She centered herself in between my spread legs and tilted her head back in acceptance. She pushed her beautiful tits together and begged, "Please! Here! For me!" I blasted a load from heaven onto that pasty white pair of boobs. As our orgasms subsided, she giggled and asked how that was. I couldn't speak but managed to smile and nod aggressively. As I turned around to find her a towel we heard a knock on the dry storage door; which doesn't have a lock. Then we heard the door slide open as the can holding the door shut was pushed into the room with Pam's roommate Kristen standing there mouth agape. I'm standing naked, cock in hand looking for my boxers and Pam is kneeled on the floor with come on her tits looking like she had just been caught, uh, masturbating. Kristen exclaims, "What the fuck are you guys doing?" Pam and I both stare at Kristen, unable to utter a coherent sentence. Kristen walked further into the room, turning to close the door behind her, moving the can back in front of the door to keep it closed. She leans down and whispers something into Pam's ear. Pam keeps her gaze fixed on the floor, looking ashamed of what she's done. Kristen speaks up with a creepy tone in her voice, "I was just with your girlfriend, Joe. She's waiting for you to get off so you two can go out tonight. What's this all about?" I glance at her and stammer a half coherent reply. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, save it. I guess you kind of owe me right now huh?" I gaze down at the floor, a guilty look on my face. "No, no no, relax. I don't wanna get you in trouble, but I could sure use something for my troubles, seeing as how I'm gonna have to lie to one of my friends about what happened just now." I glance up at her curiously. "I want you to do what you just did, for me, and I want Pam here to do what she just did again, except the thing now is, I'm in charge of everything and you'll do as I say or I'm telling Spaz AND your girlfriend." We both nodded reluctantly and I went to grab my now semi-hard cock and began stroking it slowly, clumsily. Kristen wasn't having that. "What? You need me to be naked too so all this can happen? Fine, but first bend bend over and show me your ass Joe. Pam, you too. Both of you bend over and show me your assholes." We lined up and slowly bent over revealing our asses to Kristen. She stood up and spanked each of us, startling me as she squeezed my ass a little and let her pinky wander down to my asshole. I squirmed a little bit away from her grasp. "You like that Joe? You like it when your asshole gets reamed while you jack off?" I said nothing. "Ooohh, now you're all quiet? Pam? I want you to lick your finger and start massaging Joe's ass here and once he's ready, give him a reach around and let's get this cum out of his cock. I need a good shower." While Pam slowly licked her finger and spread my ass cheeks to play with my hole, Kristen began to undress. Kristen removed her shoes, jeans and tshirt and stood with her hands on her hips, revealing her six foot slender frame, B cup white bra-clad titties and sandy blonde full bush which you can see through her see through white panties. She watches as I stare at her, tilting her head. "You like looking at my body Joe? I've noticed you've been kind of quiet in here so far." I continue to stare at her in silence. "SAY SOMETHING JOE!" "Uh, yes, I like looking at your body." "What's dirty Pam doing to you right now Joe? Tell me what shes doing to you." "Pam is stroking my cock while pushing a finger into my asshole." "Does that feel good Joe?" "Yes. Yes it does Kristen." "You want her to take things up a notch Joe?" Again, I say nothing. "Good. Pam, lick his asshole like I know you can lick pussy." My eyes go wide, did she just say Pam licks pussy? What? "Yeah, Joe. I caught Pam jacking off the cook in back at our apartment last semester and ever since then, whatever I want from her, I get, immediately. You're kind of like Pam now in that capacity huh? PAM. MAKE OUT WITH HIS ASS NOW!!" I'm startled as I feel Pam's nose entering in between my ass cheeks and her warm tongue entering my asshole, while she continued to stroke my cock. This is amazing. I've never had my asshole touched, let alone tongue fucked. As I tilt my head back, Kristen snaps me back to attention. "Joe, I want you to take off my bra and panties while Pam services your asshole. Then I want you to do to me what Pam is doing to you now." I began to undo her bra with her back to me. I felt her reach back and help out Pam as they masturbate me slowly. My climax was drawing nearer. Kristen felt it and slapped Pam's hand away. She instructed Pam to crawl through our legs and remove her panties. Pam did as she was told. Once Kristen's panties were down to where she could simply step out of them, she ordered me to finish removing them, stepping out of them one foot at a time. Once she has her panties removed, she grabbed Pam's head and shoved it into her pussy, ordering her to make her come with her tongue and her nose. She then reached back and began yanking harshly on my cock, causing a slight amount of pain. Kristen looked over her shoulder when she heard me whimper. She saw me wincing and said, "Oh that hurts? Pam, make Joe's pain go away by getting his cock wet with your mouth. Then put him inside of me while you go back to servicing his ass." Pam once again did as she was told and I was soon thrust inside Kristen. She bucked against me, my cock buried deep within her while Pam continued licking my ass. I couldn't hold out any longer. I pulled back as both women raced beneath me, begging for my come. I came harder and longer than the first orgasm I'd had less than half an hour ago. When I opened my eyes, I saw both women nearly wrist deep in their own pussies, vigorously bringing themselves to climax. I stared at the sight before me and smiled. As I went to unwrap a roll of paper towels, we heard a ding from the bar, a table full of people was ready to give their order. The cook poked his head in and said while laughing, "I got it senor, you feeneesh with the ladies." We all laughed a bit and then cleaned up and left the store room.