****** Libby Lets Go by Cathy ****** =============================================================================== Libby Lets Go "Stacey, you're such a slut today!" I shout as I get into the back seat of the cab. Stacey sticks her tongue in my ear and breathes, "Thank you, lover, I hoped you'd notice." The cab driver notices all right, poor fucking pervert, looking at us in his mirror when he should be watching traffic as he pulls out from the curb. But who can blame the man when Stacey is perfectly gorgeous in this short black skirt, and purple stockings that come up just above her knees. Her thighs, between the black and purple, are so white and mock-virginal, I could drool on them at this very instant. What an ideal slut she is. I kiss her wetly on the mouth and tongue the insides of her cheeks. "Should I have brought a birthday present, or a card?" Stacey asks, in a minute. She slouches down in her seat, her legs spreading. "No, you brought you. It's all they want. And me." "Who is the bitch?" Stacey pays little attention to the politics of school personalities or cliques. "Libby is going to be valedictorian. Plus she's the absolute cliche of Perfect Beautiful Student." "And?" "She's a wannabe." Stacey gives me a weary look. "I'm serious! It's sofashionable. They're all doing it. And it actually excites the boys, gets them slavering and wondering how they do it with other girls. And then when they grow up, they can say they've done it all, and look bored and world-weary. Like you." "And us?" "We're the known slut-bitch-whore queens of the entire school. We're the main party attraction, like when the girl pops out of the cake." "I'm not a freak, Cath. I don't do shows in front of kids. Nor do you." "No we don't. It's not going to be a party party. It's an after-party party. Libby and Desiree only. They've chosen each other, you see." "I know that Desiree. Red-headed? Basketball?" "That's her. Lib and Des, they've chosen one another, dear, for the Lesbian Season. It's so respectable these days, they'll get a paragraph in the annual. Their mommies won't even blink. 'It's a special phase, dears! A rite of passage. I'm so effing pleased dear Lib is asserting herself so.' And blah- blah." You can see Stacey taking this in, churning it all up in her shitpool of a mind. Not that she's all slut, Stace. She's a creative artist, a thinker. It's just that one of her creations, one of her greatest creations, happens to be this gorgeous slutty sex-object sharing the back of the cab with me. We've come a long way since we used to play in the barn on my Uncle's farm in Saskatchewan, fucking one another and our friend Bobby, the black lab. I think we've got a bit more sophisticated in many ways since those days, but we're just as nasty in others. And it's true what I say about school, we are the famous slut- queens. Not that people say that to our faces. Some people seem to be actually scared of us - I can't understand why, because we're actually pretty nice to people so long as they don't piss us off. You wait and see. She glances at me finally, looks me up and down. "What are you wearing under those overalls, Cath?" "Nothing obviously!" "Just checking. Libby, huh? Hmm." ** The great thing about Libby is that she lives in the British Properties, which in case you don't know is the richest bit of the city, built on practically a mountainside. The bottom of your property in BP is likely to be hundreds of feet lower than the top of it, and the houses are all up and down these windy roads no-one ever walks on or you get killed by people in Porsches. Libby is allowed to have parties when her parents are away, because she's sophisticated and responsible, is going to university in France next year, is going to be valedictorian, and on and on with the bullshit. How could she commit wrong? She can't possibly sin, the little bitch, she can only progress through phases. We pull up to her front door at about six, which is ages after Libby promised me her little party would have broken up. Sure enough - no other cars. I pay the cabbie and he doesn't notice I've short-changed him five bucks because he's staring at my bare tit through the side of my overalls. I'm dressing down for this party. Not even a thong. There's no-one at the door so we wander round the back - which means climbing down steps to a patio which sits about a hundred feet it seems above a pool. A thousand feet drop from there over the tops of the other mansions, there's Burrard Inlet, and cruise ships. Libby and Des are at a patio table, under the umbrella. They slouch, holding on to empty glasses that sit on the table. There's nothing else happening. They're plainly in a drinking phase of development right now. "This is good," Stacey says out the corner of her mouth. "This is very good." Libby raises an eyebrow. "Oh god you guys really came. Fucking Jesus." "Yes we're like - the inevitable," I say. "Happy birthday, bitch." Libby laughs. She looks a bit like Cameron Diaz. She's got on a t-shirt that says DON'T EVEN ASK. So I go up and lean over her and kiss her straight on the mouth. Her mouth is sloppy wet and her breath smells of Grand Marnier. "Thanks for the invite, sweetie," I breathe, and I brush my hand across her tits, over her hard little nipples that you can see straight through the shirt. "Oh god we better go inside," Libby sniggers, looking over at the nearest neighboring house, which is a Tudor mansion. "Already?" Stacey says. "It's so great out here." She's gone and eased up to Des, and now smiles down at her. "Desiree, what a neat name," she says. Desiree is looking up at Stace, just at that moment, like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a particularly fast and dangerous pickup. Her long auburn hair is tied straight back in a black ribbon. Her skin, lightly tanned, is the color of pale cinnamon, and she's wearing a white tennis skirt and sneakers. Libby jumps up. "We got tons of food in the house, and beer and wine and all kinds." She seems in a hurry, and we follow her up some rocky steps to another level of patios, and through open french windows. Stacey is holding Desiree's hand, and Des laughs in this slightly nervous way, "Food! Don't show me more food Lib. I'm stuffed to the gills." "Oh really?" Stace smiles at her. "What you been eating?" "Oh god - chocolate cake, chips, buns, cookies. I don't know." "When did you start eating all that junk?" Libby screws up one eye at this question, then says, "I dunno. Morning sometime, when we were laying it all out I s'pose." And she looks oddly at Stacey, who seems to be doing some kind of mental calculation. We're in a living room. It looks like a bunch of kids had a party in here, alright. Chip bowls, beer cans, crap on the floor, CDs. "Yeah I know!" Libby laughs. "Mom and Dad get in at the airport at eleven-forty tonight. But we'll have it cleaned up by then. You guys want a drink?" "Beer's good," I say. No-one else says anything. I turn, and there's Stacey clinching with Des at the door, kissing her deep. "Wow you guys - come on in!" Lib laughs wildly, "Let's close the french windows, eh?" And she hurries over and shoves by and pulls the windows shut, then skips out the other door to get the beer. Stacey's got Desiree down on a couch, scrunching on potato chips, kissing her head back hard in the cushion. Just as Lib comes back in with a couple of cans, Stace presses Lib in the stomach and asks her tenderly, "You hurt there, hon? Full up to bursting?" I grin and nod my head toward the lovers, and pop the can Lib hands me and chug about a third of it. Still swilling it in my mouth, I pull her neck to me and kiss her hard on the mouth. We tongue through the gurgling cold suds that run down our chins. I can sense a hotness in Libby that I like a lot. We get down on another couch, and for a while we're making it like the other two. You can feel a kind of relief in the way Libby eases up now, and gets all over me. Her hand slips in the side of my overalls and holds my tit. I lift her shirt and thumb her nipples. This ain't so slow and gentle, but this is the way it the party schedule runs this time, right? The two sluts come over, get them off nice, and go. And wow, they can say, you'll never guess who we fucked at my party? Only Cath and Stace! - No, get away! - Yup we reeeely did, and omigod let me tell you they are hot fucking bitches! So here's Libby now with another ribbon: A-student, most popular girl in the school, valedictorian, Paris, and now like icing on the cake: fucker-of-Cath-and-Stace. She's tasty, I have to say. I raise a hickey on the side off her neck while I'm tweaking both her nips. Which is like turning up the juice - she goes practically up in the air under me. It's peachy, her skin is, fuzzy and soft and sweet, though when I go down between her thighs there's a little more acid, less sweet. I like that, it gives me a kick, so by the time I'm kissing her panties after getting her shorts off, there's a slightly sour smell I can't wait to suck up. Maybe she peed herself a bit, hours ago, or maybe her crotch is naturally sour. My gourmet side has got to check this out. I get her panties off. And oh look - I knew she'd be shaved. Not that I like bare pussies so much, but it's obviously one of those adult things Libby has gotten into. I wonder if Des did it for her? That's the deal, I think - your loved one shaves you. Some kind of new age fucking intimacy ritual - it's the law these days. Still, there's something irresistible about the pouty look of a shaved cunt that makes you want to suck it, like it's a nectarine. It's a bit sour all right, and that balances her flavors perfectly, like a well thought-out meal. Down between her perfect thighs, I first peel open her lips with my tongue, then lap her wetness. She's wetter than hell. All you hear is soft mewing of girls getting it on. I steal a glance off behind me. Stace is laying back against the cushions now, shirt off and getting a nipple-suck from Desiree. Who is laying with her legs open and her skirt up, getting Stace's finger twirling lazily round her clit. Jeez but all this is way, way too goddam normal. I give Stace a warning look, and she tightens her lips into a sexy witch-grin. It's getting darker in here. Out the big window, the sky is going red. I jump up abruptly, and sit and hug Lib and put a wet juice-kiss on her mouth while I grab for my beer. She clutches at me, all flushed and breathy and just a bit pissed off. "Hey, fuck me Cath." Her hand pulls mine to her crotch. Libby's legs are long and pale. "I'm going to fuck you sweetie. Don't rush me." "Let's go up to my room." "Nah. Not yet." I drink, and put the can to her lips. Stacey has let go of Des, and reaches over to click on a lamp at the end of the couch. "Hey, no lights guys!" Libby squeaks, "The people in the Neilson house can see right over..." She pulls down her shirt over her tits. "No prob, Libby," Stace says, "I'll pull the drapes." "No, let..." But Stace is strolling over to the window in her slut-skirt and stockings and bare tits, back-lit and gazing out into the red gloom. "Great sunset," she comments, pulling the curtains none too quick. That should give the Neilsons, whoever they are, something to jack off over. "Guys be cool!" Libby hisses. "Let's get naked," Stacey says, not seeming to hear Libby at all. "Des - strip off." That makes Desiree giggle. Libby holds me tight. "Lover, do me," she whispers, pulling at the straps on my overalls. Do me? What the fuck is that? Is that what they say?"You guys are so cool," I tell her. "Wow you're the hippest." Lib beams at me. "Yeah we're into it, like it's sooo cool." "What stuff you into?" She gives me a look and rolls her eyes. "Oh god. Tell them Des." "What?" Des is untying her shoes. "What we did, bitch. Up in my room." "Oh god. We got into tying up. You know, bondage. That is so hot." "And what did we do then?" Lib has my overalls down at my waist, her cold hands on my titties. "We ass-fucked. With fingers." "You didn't!" Stacey gasps. She looks at me, and I make a mouth like wow! "You put your finger actually in her ass?" "Oh - all the way in." Des, naked now and big-titted, sits there real pleased with herself. "Man that is so hot," Libby says. "Like you can't move, and you're getting it." I say, "This we have to see. Right Cath?" "We're gonna check this right now!" Stacey points at Libby. "Get some stuff to do it with." Unlike Des, Libby doesn't like being shoved around so much. She pouts a bit, and says, "Well yeah of course when Cath and I want to." I take a hold of a handful of Libby's inner thigh, squeeze it a little harder than I normally would, and say, "Do it, sweetheart." "Okay okay!" Libby gets up and goes out in a flounce. Her ass is round and tight, wheeling round the door, I'm in love with that thing. I get up and get out of the rest of my overalls, then go over to kiss Stacey in the middle of the floor. We don't say anything. Everything between us is unspoken. I'm so hot for her, and can feel her responding, but part of our heat I know is for what's going to happen here in our little play-house. Libby comes back with some scarves and some ropes. "They're all I could find," she says. The ropes are that plasticy, woven stuff you get in a hardware store used for anything from tying tarps on your car to hanging washing on. Stace takes them, and first we try them out on Desiree. She's way the most sub of the two of them, and she likes it. We tie her wrists behind her back with a piece of the rope, then pull it down and between her legs and through the front. That way, when Stace pulls it like a leash, the hard rope pulls between the crack of her ass and follows the line of her bare cunt-lips. "Yow!" she giggles, when she's jerked into the middle of the room. Stace and I stand and press up against her. We kiss her neck, and a tit each, and you can feel her tensing, helpless, to our touch. "That's right!" Libby says, "that's so hot when you do that." "It's amazing," Stace says, drawing the rope up even tighter so that it forces between Des's lips and makes her rise slightly on her toes. "It's simply amazing." I try to choke back a laugh, remembering so well our own, private expertise with ropes learned during those long, hot summer afternoons in the barn on Uncle Joe's farm. But that's another story, as they say. I go and pick up my beer. It's empty, so I take Libby's beer and swig from that. "Lib, let's try some of that," I say, offering her the can. "No - I've had enough, I'll have to pee in a minute." "Drink it," I say, in a friendly enough way, but meaningful. Libby takes it and does as she's told while I watch her. About half the can. She says, gesturing to Stacey, who's biting Des's nipple, "You want me to do...? I shake my head. "I want to experiment a bit, okay? I have this wild and crazy idea Lib, you're going to love." I thought for a moment that Libby was going to throw her weight about, like she's used to. I can only guess that she's aware she's bitten off a bit more than she can chew, by inviting the actual Sisters-of-Slut to her actual, perfect house. It's funny - I don't think we look or act menacing. I've peeked through the door, that's as far as I've looked into the house so far. To the left is the kitchen down the hall, and in the middle, almost in front of us, there's a large staircase that takes two turns before it reaches the next floor. It's impressive, all natural wood, with a painting by one of those French Impressionist guys hogging the space on the wall at the middle landing. Even the floors are hardwood. What mostly caught my eye though were the wooden railings. I take the longest piece of rope out of the lot, and tie Libby's hands together in front of her. When this is done I give her a long, consoling kiss. "Outside," I whisper then, nodding to the door. "We can all go in my bedroom - it's really big and..." "Outside." She doesn't object any more. Not even when I tell her to stand still while I run up the stairs with my end of the rope, and haul her arms up in the air, tying it to the top of the railing. I look at the painting. A landscape. I can't figure out the signature, but when I scratch the corner a bit of paint flakes off, so it's real oils. Oh yes - there it is: Vincent. Fucking hell. Libby doesn't look scared, but there's concern on her face as she almost dangles before me. Through the door to the living room you can hear little squeaks, not quite of pain but something close. I lift up her t-shirt, and pinch her nipples while I kiss her on the mouth. "So is this good?" I ask. Libby nods. "But you know what? I have to go pee. I should have said before." I tell her, "You know, I was hoping you'd ask. I slide down her body till I'm crouching at her hips. I start up kissing the insides of her thighs, and up and down her pink open lips. There's that whiff of pee again. Makes me so eager I rub my own crotch. "I really have to go," Libby whispers, like she's asking her parents in polite company and doesn't know where the bathroom is. "Just a minute." I leave her dangling, and go to the kitchen. There's bags of chips on the counter, pop, beer and wine. And a tray of upended drinking glasses. I take one and go back out. I kiss her on the mouth again, and press the glass under her crotch. She shakes her head. "No, I'm serious. I can't do it in that." "Yes you will." "I can't." I crouch again and get down to her, but still holding the glass. I press my tongue, flat, up into her cunt. She's going slightly nuts now, crying out. "Yes you can," I say again. "I'd sooner not - I..." But she does. After a final whimper, Libby lets go. A hot rope of piss shoots from her piss-hole, so fast I can't get the glass under it. It sprays my hands and face before it hits the inside of the glass, and then so quickly fills it I have time only for a sip before I have to get my mouth under her to catch the rest. It's a pale amber, the shade of the finest single malt scotch whiskey, and is salty from all those goddam chips she's been guzzling. I'm trying to lap her cunt while I drink, and she's whimpering "Oh nooo, Cath!" but she's cumming - I can tell even through all that mix of flavors. And so am I from my own fingers and the feel of her steaming piss flowing hot all down my own body. "The floor!" Libby is whimpering, "it's Indian rosewood parquet - please Cath, don't..." Which is a bit too late for her. The pee, it's acrid smell going up my nostrils like a hit of coke, is pooling quickly down the corridor to my left - proving that the builder ripped them off some because this expensive floor sure is way off plumb. When Libby's stream eases off to a trickle, I drink from the glass, then get up to my feet and hold my lover in my arms and kiss her with a full mouthful of her own golden essence. She coughs and chokes, spilling it all down her t- shirt. No matter, I kiss her more till she stops squirming. Her wide blue eyes reveal to me little excepting her own confusion at what's going down. I press my thigh between hers, and rub. We're so goddam wet, I could cum again. Stacey's says, "You two look a picture." There's something muffly about her voice. I turn, and there's my true love, leaning against the door frame with her arms folded, gorgeous in her purple stockings and a certain wetness about her crotch. Has she been eating chocolate...? "You bitch!" I laugh. "You didn't - did you?" Stacey wipes her mouth with her hand and nods. Her fingers are brown. She is the picture of nonchalance. Libby laughs too. "Oh god Stace I hope you used napkins - the upholstery in the lounge is all virgin llama. But hey - didn't I leave the gateau in the kitchen for that veryreason?" I ignore her, and shove past Stacey into the back room, the lounge. The smell in there makes my stomach churn. It's all as I suspected, naturally. The lovely Desiree is kneeling on the couch, her hands still tied behind her back, her head bowed down over the arm-rest at the far end. Her buttocks are up in the air. The prettiness of the scene ends right there. Her inner thighs, and the crack in her ass, are blotched brown with runny, mid to dark brown shit that looks like it has been smeared this way and that by a maniac. A couple of broken turds lay on the floor, and more bits of shit are scattered randomly around the room. The trail of the runniest shit runs from there down along the llama wool cushions, across the Portugese gypsy hand-woven rug, to the feet of its perpetrator: Stacey. "How did you do it?" I ask. Nearing Desiree's butt, I put out a finger to wipe up a piece of shit hanging from her cunt-lips. "I sucked it out - she was so ready," Stacey replies. Desiree turns her head to me. There's a slightly pitiful look in her eyes. "How are you honey?" I whisper, leaning over her and sliming my shitty finger between her cunt-lips. Her voice trembles. "I am so shitty." Then as my finger goes in further: "Please not now!" I laugh. "You're trembling because you've just cum, aren't you, you shit- bitch?" She doesn't answer that, but writhes on the end of my finger. I pull it out and lick it. It tastes of cum as well as earthy, putrefying shit. And something else just a bit tangy. What is that mystery flavor? Libby's voice is worryingly loud. "What did you just do in there, guys?" "I didn't do anything," I hear Stacey saying. "It's what happened in there." I bend down to Desiree's face, and kiss her cheek. It's wet with something, cum or tears possibly. "What were you eating, dear?" I whisper. "The cake. Fruit cake and chocolate cake." "And?" "Well some of the fruit. There were some dried apricots..." "Dried apricots! You're an idiot, Des. Cake and apricots and..." "...rum-baba..." "Rum-baba! God how that stuff must have brewed in your cute guts." I take another taste of my finger. It isn't so bad. No wonder Stacey looks satisfied. I get Desiree to her feet and untie her hands. I have a thing about red-heads with long cedar-colored hair, and I press her to the side of the couch and kiss her, directing her hands to my crotch for attention. This is a tall redhead too, and an athletic one with round, perked-up tits. Her fruit-shit flavor on top (or underneath of) all this drives me nearly insane. Except for... "What the fuck is going on in there? Tell me, you - tell me!" That's Libby's whiney voice. I guess that 'you' means me, so I roll my eyes to heaven, and tow Desiree out in the direction of the noise. It's stopped suddenly, at the moment. Libby is still more or less hanging where I left her, but seemingly trying to reach up even higher on her tippy-toes. Her eyes are bulging fit to pop. Stacey is behind her, kissing her neck. And I can see what's going on - that goddam shit-stealing bitch! I scream, "Leave that slut alone, slut! That's my shit in there!" Stacey shrieks back at me, so loud and next to Libby's ear that she jerks like a puppet, "Mine! My fucking shit, you slut!" "My shit, my whore!" "You got hold of my slut, Cathy you cow, you FUCKING BITCH-QUEEN CUNT-WHORE!" "FUCK THE SHUT UP YOU SLUT-FUCKING SHIT-EATER!" Our voices bounce like nasty missiles all round that hard-wood lobby, hurting even my ears. I pull Desiree to me and hold her like something I've won at the fair. This infuriates Stacey. "LEAVE MY SLUT ALONE, FUCKING BITCH-COW!" "FUCKING SHIT STACEY YOU SCAT-THIEF LET GO MY BITCH NOWWWW!" I think I'm winning in decibels, but it doesn't matter. There's a moment of pause while we draw breath, all the fuck-slut echoes still bouncing about, and I say softly, "Rum-baba and apricots Stacey you bitch - you were holding out on me" And we just about double up with laughter. Like we always do. Libby's face has gone white. Her piss-stained t-shirt hangs sadly off her nipples, her pouty nude pussy is wet and red. Yet still she strains upwards at her ropes. That's because Stacey, standing behind her, is easing her asshole open ready for the next treat. Stacey is a wonderful asshole teaser. That's why Libby isn't exactly complaining. Des and I go round to take a look, and Stace squats down to better do the job. "That is my shit in there, bitch" I say, but she ignores me. The thumb of her left hand is wedged inside Libby's little orange anus, and with the wetted, slightly shitty fingers of her right hand she is easing the orifice wider and wider. "Do me a favor, Cath - let out some slack up there, so she can squat. We need a squat." "Will you pleeeese just once let me look in that room in my own fucking house," Libby whines, though without much conviction at the moment. She's getting off on the ass-spreading like there was a big dog licking her, but on the other hand she's eyeing shit-legged Desiree too, and you can see some kind of horror in her face. She must be going through some weird, mind-splitting hell all right, getting that gorgeous ass-reaming on the one hand, while fretting about shit on the furniture on the other. Des shakes her head. "We never did this stuff before" she says to no-one, in a wondering tone. Oh darling Des! - blondes can rest easy on their reputations from now on. Just to listen to your sweet fucking vacuous voice. I go up and lower the rope, and Libby sinks to a near squat, hanging off her arms. We send in Desiree first, laying on her back in the piss-pool, to spread Libby's ass and tongue it, then doing the hard work of sucking her ass. That can take a while if you're not using an enema. "I think you're slightly bound," Stacey says, looking on thoughtfully. "Didn't you eat as many apricots?" "Only one handful," Libby says, squeezing her eyes shut at a particularly squelchy suck from Desiree's lips. I stand behind Stacey and put my hands round her breasts and pull her tight to me. I feel especially tender and warm at moments like this. I kiss her neck and suck on her shoulder. "I wanna make nice love," I whisper. "Me too." "After all the shit." "Mmm." Libby suddenly goes "Ohhh" and doubles over. I say, "Whassup?" "My tummy hurts!" Desiree suddenly retches, and her head drops to the floor with a bang. "Errk - it's there, it's in there!" she coughs. I tell her to get out the fucking way, get over there and order Libby to stand up and bend over, as best she can. I pry her cheeks apart and examine her asshole. There, just about to reach daylight, is the dark-brown point of a new turd. It's gleaming fresh. "It's hard to reach," I say, "I ain't gonna lay in that piss." Stacey looks up my crude pulley system lashed to the landing. "Get her down altogether, I think." I agree with that, and, go upstairs and let down Libby's arms. Stacey figures we can lash her over this small round marble-topped table that's standing in the hall doing nothing but hold up a Greek bust. We have a little bit of a problem here, because as we're turning Libby around and leading her to the table, she catches sight of the inside of the lounge room. "You bastards!" she wails, "I see it! I see it! Des clean that shit up now..." and she goes off into a sobbing fit which doesn't make it any easier to press her down over this stupid little spindly-legged table to tie her rope to the legs. I must say Stace and I aren't as sympathetic as we might be because we're too busy watching this lovely Libby-turd just peeping out of her virginal white ass like the groundhog looking for the first day of spring. (She's not a virgin of course, as anyone on even the chess team will tell you, but I mean she's a shit-virgin.) Anyway Des takes some pity on her, either that or she's getting tired of hearing about how hard it is to get shit out of llama-wool, and how Libby's mom and dad will be touching down in only three hours. Des goes off in the kitchen. I let Stace kiss Libby's turd-tip first. She presses her lips to it and pokes with her tongue just enough to get a taste and go Mmmmm! I can smell it's wrangy smell already. Then it's my turn. Giving some finger to Libby's cunt to pacify her, I close my lips round her sweet anus and suck. You can definitely taste the fermentation of the rum and all the rich stuff she's been eating - it must have all seeped down through her bowels to marinate this dark sausage to the ugly-rich taste it has now. I suck, and Libby groans some more. "I'm not feeling well," she whimpers. Her cunt is wet enough to like my finger however, you can't help but notice that. And I can't help noticing Stacey's fingers now playing with my own ass. That's so nice. In fact I only just realize that I've not been fucked or anything yet, this party. I so want Stace to do it, somewhere in this house. I'm going to fuck her hot body right in this damn place, yes I am! By the time Desiree has found a bucket, and staggers past us with the thing full of soapy water, exciting things are happening inside Libby. I've pulled her one turd, the chocolatey one plugging up her anus, nearly out. It's thick and solid and smooth, but loosening now at the end. I support it from underneath with one hand, and the thing is so hard I can drag it with my teeth. Damn thing must be nearly six inches long. Stacey, who's a scatologist or coprophiliac, or whatever the hell the science word is for it, sensed or calculated what was going to happen just in time. Or nearly just in time. "It's a blocker-plug, Cath!" she yells, laughing too. "Watch the fuck out!" And just as I free that dark beauty from Libby's anus, Libby coughs, there's fart after which a smaller, broken piece of the same stuff blows out and sticks to my leg, then a blast like a geyser blows out. Excepting the flow is travelling sideways, it looks like a geyser too - and this massive gush of watery shit explodes backwards from Libby. It catches all my left side before I can get out of the way, my prize cigar still in my mouth, and the rest of it shoots back and bounces off the wall. Before we can recover from that, and register the sounds of spattering fallout up and down the hall, there's a groan from Libby and another lateral shower spews from her. Only this time she's managed to drag herself and the table round a few degrees, and her shot goes clear down the length of the hallway like grape-shot from a muzzle-loader. "Yippee!" Stacey goes, jumping up amid the growing stench. She's caught some shit herself too, on her leg and her breasts. She hops over to Libby and bends down and kisses her on the mouth. Des looks out of the lounge door, a shit-rag in her hand, and shakes her head. I go squat at Libby's ass, and taste the new shit by licking some of the gleaming, pale brown slime that's slipping down her inner thighs. It's sour, not nearly so good as the precious blocker-plug I'm holding still in my hand, and it's stench makes my eyes water. I clean just a circular area of pink skin around Lib's anus, and spear my tongue into her still-stretched hole. There's entirely the wet new shit in there, none of the taste of the blocker. But still I suck her. I'm not into doing a thorough cleaning, just a good-manners kind of ass-ream to say thank you bitch for blasting in that spectacular way. Anyway Libby is sobbing not from my tongue but from her own poor sad hang-ups. Stacey is stroking her face and kissing her, yet I hear prosaic little sobs like "We're all dead - let me die please - it's all over." And Stace is telling her softly, "It's not all over yet, sweetie - there there now - I still haven't fucked you yet so how can it all be over?" There's another reason I'm not into Libby any more. The shit stench, and seeing Stacey bent over like that, her sweet-girl ass up in the air, is giving me the terrible hots for her and her alone. Her stockings have sagged to her knees, and the feet are dark with soaked-in piss from the floor. That is so slutty, it makes me rub the precious turd against my clit. Desiree says, "I think the wallpaper is spoiled." She's been padding about, examining everything. and she's staring closely at the brown-speckled walls. She's right. The wallpaper in the hall is that linen-textured, hand-made paper. You can't wipe stuff off because it soaks in like blotting paper. Stacey is untying Libby's wrists from the legs of the table. She says, "I wanna get on a nice soft bed with some hot cunt." "Yeah mine," I say. She looks at me, rubbing myself with the turd. Her eyes then go up to mine, and she can see I'm serious. I hand the turd to Desiree and tell her to fetch a plate from the kitchen to put it on. And I shove Stacey against the wall and tongue her shitty mouth and jam my thigh in her crotch to let her know how serious I am. Behind us, Libby sniffles. "This stuff is soaking down the cracks in the parquet, oh fucking jesus christ," she goes. Her voice is a boring drone. "Where's your bedroom, Libby?" I say, looking in Stacey's eyes. "Up there on the right. But please, please help me, guys." When lust catches hold of Stace and me, we don't hear anything much at all. I take her hand and we trip up the stairs like babes in Toyland. Somewhere in the misty distance I just register Libby snarling at Desiree something about scrub harder you fucking bitch. The carpeting up here is thick wool. It's like walking on a sheep. There's no sound but our own eager breathing. I open a door on the right, and it looks like a girl's bedroom. But Stacey's opened the door opposite, and she goes, "Oh yeah! this is it." And it sure is it. This must be the master bedroom, and it's big. The bed is big as a stage, covered in a multi-colored quilt, and over in the distance there's a hot-tub or a whirlpool. There's a clean, powdered smell to this room, a Home and Gardens perfection that's so impossible, it's begging to be fucked up. I dive on the bed. Stacey is looking through the drawers at the side, probably searching for sex toys. "Get the fuck up here," I say. In the far, far distance I hear someone scream, "Don't fucking well talk to me like that!" Stacey bounces on the bed and straddles me, pins me down and we kiss. I buck my hips up between her legs. We share in our mouths, along with our own flavors, a taste-blend of shit and piss and beer. It occurs to me this isn't the place to make love properly, we can do that at home. But I need her so much. She knows that. She straightens a bit, and her hands go to my tits, covering them and holding tight. "You want me to shit?" she asks. I shake my head. "I just want us to cum." "I can dildo you with that turd." "No. What's all that shit about blocker-plugs?" "It's a residual. It's left over from her last shit - she must have been in a hurry and didn't wait for the last bit. So it stays in there and is older than the new shit coming down. It gets harder." "I love it." "We'll take it home with us. Party favor." The pressure on my left breast suddenly becomes sharp, and then painful. I go "Ow!" Stacey grins. She pulls her hand away, and there's a growing bead of blood just over my nipple. There's blood on Stacey's finger too. She's dug her fucking nail in me! "You bitch!" I go, and struggle to get my body up. She only presses down tighter. "Don't fight it," she says, and bows her head to my tit and sucks the blood. Then she comes up with blood and saliva dripping off her lips and kisses me again on the mouth. The rusty taste of my blood mingles between us, and I can't stand this a second longer. I thrust up so hard and sudden, Stacey is thrown clear off me, and on her back. I'm on her in an instant, my knees digging into her shoulders, and holding her head down by the hair. "You bite me, bitch? You'll do as I fucking say." Stacey looks up at my shit-smeared cunt, tears in her eyes from the way I'm pulling her hair. We make love more tender than this at times, but we can be hell-bitches too and it's still love, just the same love. Stacey knows what I wants, and I don't have to tell her what to do when I drag her head up to my crotch. She licks me. Her hands grip my ass and spread it and her fingers poke at my asshole. "I know what you want, cow," I say, holding her head to me. She nods. She's licking up and down the insides of my slit. "Fucking ask me nice!" "Please piss on me." "I didn't hear that, slut!" "Please Cath, piss on me. PISS ON ME." "I'm gonna DRENCH you, bitch." And right then I can hear someone behind us. That is so fucking annoying. I twist my head and it's Libby. She's leaning on the door frame. There's something weird about her. She's still naked for some reason, but she isn't sexy any more. She looks as limp as the rag she holds in her hand. She says, "Not this room puleeese, guys." "Fuck off!" Stacey screams, her voice muffled by my cunt. "Ignore her, slut," I order Stace, "and lick me." I am so damn close to cumming, I could get up and punch that fucking Libby in the face right now. Libby whines, "My bedroom please guys, come in there, not here. Oh my god there's a shitty footprint, right there." I'm ignoring her busily. I can go quite Zen at times, and I use all my powers of concentration to BLOCK LIBBY THE FUCK OUT OF MY MIND. Stace is licking my clit and it's bringing me right to the edge, right now. She must be able to sense that because a finger jams hard into my sloppy-wet cunt and fucks me. I give her no warning, I don't even pull up an inch. I let it go, whoosh, in her face. Stacey screws up her eyes, and coughs, then opens her mouth wide to catch my stream. She's still finger-fucking me. I'm so close to her, my pee sprays back up at me hard, drenching me from the tits down. It's only when I pull back, still cumming, to shower Stacey's tits, that Libby realizes what's going down. "You can't! You can't!" she goes, her voice kind of whispery without any power left to it. I only hear this, because I'm busy cumming and watching my piss stream over my lover's body. I kneel back to soak her bush, and she holds herself open so I hit her clit too, and the pee rivers on down into her open cunt. Stacey's about to cum too. She holds open her arms for me, and I dive on her, ramming my crotch to hers, and we twist and twine so our hot cumming pissy cunts are mashed together. Our open mouths meet, and she grabs me so hard her nails rip down my back. We seem to be enclosed in piss, the odor and the slippery hot juice of it. That and the oily juice of our cum. Only when our kisses become softer and dreamier, and Stacey's grip on my back turns to a caress, do I notice the other two again. I turn. Libby has sunk to the floor in a squat, her back to the wall, and she has this glazed, catatonic appearance. But here's Desiree as well. She's standing at the foot of the bed, wide-eyed. She seems to think hard about how to express herself at this moment, then she finally comes out with, "Wow." I slide off Stacey, and we lay back on the soaked bedcovers. "That cover," Libby manages to say in a robot-like voice, "was hand-made in a hippie commune in Peru." Stacey says in a contented voice, "Libby, go get that whirlpool running." "We have one and one half hours before my parents get back here," Libby emits. "Good. Time for a soak. Get your ass over there." "I cannot clean that shit off the furniture or the walls." Stacey doesn't register this. She asks Des, "Where's the turd?" "It's on a plate in the kitchen." "What you want to do with it?" I ask, kissing Stacey's wet hair. "How about," Stacey says, thinking hard, "we go back to your place, with Desiree, and we oh-so-gently put it up her sweet ass. Would you like that, Des?" Desiree beams and nods frantically. "So go find some Tupperware or something to put it in. You don't mind us taking your turd home with us, do you Libby?" That's the least thing on Libby's mind, I'd say. But then I think she'll remember this birthday forever, for many reasons. It's only another phase for her. Her shit phase. END This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories. You may also want to visit: * Erotic_Top_100_Story_Sites * Sexy_Top_100_Stories