Erotic Short Stories

Fragment: “Abusing the Game:” Regret

I was drunk again, and my mouth was on another sloppy pussy almost covering my face with its lips. They were like floppy beef curtains dangling over my upper lip. If I hadn’t been so drunk the smell and taste might have made me throw up, or the fact that her labia were almost stuffing up my nostrils so much I couldn’t breathe. I lapped away anyways. In a perverse way it was self-punishment for what I’d done to Lizette.
She hadn’t returned any of my calls, and even though I ran our route repeatedly I never saw her beautiful bobbing ponytail or her sexy long legs. It was like she was avoiding and blocking me. I had this terrible feeling that I’d raped her. Had she been shouting no? Had I really been that callous and brutal? I’d fucked her up the ass, but she’d welcomed me inside by pushing herself over my thumb. I had been inside her.
All the justifying in the world couldn’t remedy that I’d violated her, and all the bar rat sluts that would take me home with them wouldn’t satisfy the hole in my life now that Lizette was gone and blocking me out of her life. Dammit! I had blown our perfect date with my overzealous anal insertion. I could have been content with fucking her but I had to push it; I had to stuff my thumb in her butt, to drive my dick up her ass, and fuck her when I was already having sex. Why did I do that?
“You okay down there?”
Beef curtains was talking to me; I thought I could have just slobbered my way to her orgasm, but I think my distraction about Lizette was noticeable even in our drunkenness.
“Yup, okay!” I said, and attacked her pussy with renewed vigor.
“Oh yeah, there it is. Lick me. Oh yeah. You look so good with your face between my legs.” The girl moaned and stroked my hair. “Yes, yes, yes, keep sucking. Use your fingers.”
I shoved two inside, and beef curtains started thrashing and bucking against my face. Her labia wrapped around my face and threatened to fill my nostrils. Thankfully I was drunk enough that I didn’t mind holding my breath until she rocked her way off my mouth and nose. I couldn’t remember what she looked like; who was this girl with these long pussy lips? I couldn’t even recognize her voice. Had we fucked before? What would it be like to have my cock wrapped by this loose vagina? I suppressed a shutter and felt a deep well open inside my stomach that sucked all the happiness and pleasure from my buzz. Lizette’s perfect pussy would never be mine again; she’d never spread her legs for me, would never let me touch her smooth skin wrapped tight to her pink peachy pussy. I was sick, and disgusted with myself.
Then beef curtains came on my face, and not only was she a floppy pussy, she squirt a wet fluid over my face while screaming joy and pleasure. She held my face to her crotch, and squeezed my head and gripped my hair hard. It hurt, but worse was the flooding gush of her squirting spraying into my mouth against my tongue, and shooting up my nostrils. I coughed against the flow, and hammered my hands against her legs to push myself away from her squeeze. She held me firm, and moaned with loud groans shouting excitement to the ceiling. The liquid was too much, and I gagged on her spray. I finally shoved myself away from her thighs and retched with dry heaves to her shaking body and her orgasmic laughter.
When I got my face dry enough to look up I recognized ‘beef curtains.’ She was a girl I met out at the coffee shop; we’d been studying side by side and I’d started up small talk after she smiled at me a few times. She wasn’t terribly attractive, a round cheeky face that wasn’t ugly. She had piercing blue-green eyes and breasts that sagged sideways around her ribs; they weren’t dainty and beautiful like Lizette’s. This girl had large nipples that almost covered the whole tip of her cone shaped tits. They’d been fun to touch when I wasn’t looking at them. Her dark hair was wavy and frizzy. It streaked with sweat and gobs of her squirting that’d splashed off my face. Her name was, what was her name? I couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter. My drunk brain and body knew what to do, and I’d already forgotten the flood into my mouth from her climax.
I made sure to strap a rubber on, pushed her legs apart, and entered her floppy pussy. Her folds spread out wide against my stomach, and I felt like I was pushing into loose ribbons, or wet paper. If I pushed hard enough it was like any other hole, and I did my best to slam into her so I could cum quickly and at least get off. Nausea ripped through my my stomach spawning out of the void birthed from my regret over Lizette.
This girl’s voice was sexy, she moved with enthusiasm, and seemed to be enjoying herself, even wiggling her fingers under her hood over her clit, but I was just disgusted by the whole thing. My erection evaporated, and soon I was shoving my flaccid dick into her waist. I thought I could keep pushing to get it up again, but it only made it worse and I felt like I was trying to push a wet cheese stick into a pop can. It just didn’t work right.
“Everything okay?” She said.
“Yeah, yeah, fine.”
“Did you cum?”
“Yeah.” I said.
I pulled out and collapsed next to her.
“That was great.”
“Was it? If you say so. I need a drink; want one?”
She got up, left the small bedroom, and me on the bed and rummaged through the fridge in her apartment. She was older than me. Wow. I pulled the condom off with a snap and balled it into a tissue and padded to the bathroom.
“Its in here when you’re done,” she said from the bedroom.
I peed and tossed the condom into the wastebasket. It was a small wicker pink one; only a girl’s apartment would have a fashionable trash in the bathroom. I washed my hands, took a deep breath, and went back into the bedroom for the beer I would sip on and hope to fall into sleep so I could forget beef curtains and Lizette.

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