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okay, okay..
Confession: Yes it was back in the days of thick thatches, I had met her at a bar. She was drunk, I was drunk, she was horny, I was drunk and horny. I had popped in some bubble gum in a silly attempt to cover my breath for the short drive back to dorm, never bothering to get rid of it when things escalated fast and furious. It was a time when I was still experimenting on my tongue craft, and I had a stupid idea of trying to blow a bubble inside her.
Didn't work
So I just went back to business and pushed her to the point of the coupe degrade…the finishing touch when I had another stupid idea of popping a bubble on her clit. A small one… the type that snaps out quick and hisses out in a puff. She was ready to cum… had her fingers already laced in my long curly locks. I was drunk misjudged… the small bubble puffed out quick and large. I tried to pull back, but she orgasmed… hard, yanked me in to grind on my face, The bubble popped/collapsed… I don't know anything other than she was rubbing my face in it… since I had been pulling back she had launched me bit off target, more into her pubic hair than.
Gum was everywhere, clumped in my mustache, in her pubes…such ended the great bubble gum experiment. She was not a happy camper.
MAAAY BEEE 😮
Do I have to confess the whole story?
Working late in the home office, needing another pot of coffee and s tune to shake the doldrums .
Santana – Into the Night
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E39MEY-5CDAI actually thought they were bringing back Hubba Bubba, when I first saw the pink.
Way to raise my hopes Pookie.
That simply brings back memories of a cunnilingus experiment that went horribly wrong. :
Maybe they don't… perhaps we are not premium players and can't see the nudity.
[img]https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTfZT4bAuqetaqJuZL2kzjSn0pRHUsVHxnYP3CmzSxGxRq_1xwb[/img]
wants best seat
prices went up
Forums best show
pay to watch…
LOL… got me…
where's there terric it is likely pookie about too
Well I am not against having our own little contest.
I would eagerly accept that proposition.
I am certain there would be plenty of scoring and endzone celebrations…
and VERY likely this could run into overtime. Collage rules though, each takes turns trying to score until one finally can't
PS.. now that hot number looks extremely good in 49er colors.
Again I shove the tankards towards Baylis which he takes instinctively, still with measuring eyes on the waddling dwarf. “Who doesn’t this night.” I hiss softly. “The little bugger is poor of coin. Accosts any who listens with lies they owe him money. Like any would believe a dwarf to extend credit. Their purse strings are as tight as their arses,…”, I take a sip of the ale, adding casually “but they make fine brew.”
My eyes skirted along Baylis’ hands, and noted the wrap of a thing chain dangling over his left wrist its length dropped to the ground. A chanced a brief glance and glanced again towards the nymph. Before her where she knelt was a pool of the chain, neatly coiled in a pile before her. The other end snaked up her lap and was wrapped, secured about her right wrist. I had not noted it in that vision, but there again, it was a vision and I shrugged it off to the effects of her beauty, my mind had been far too distracted on other attributes, … so to speak.
I raise the tankard. “To Dwarven brew!” I down the drink. Baylis polishes his off before me. I glance to Angus and nod for the next round. He scuttles quick to the bar quickly snatching 4 more tankards, pausing there briefly with a look of concern.
I cannot let Baylis slip from the roll of liquor. Yet even as I turn his attention has drifted to the pair between his legs. One hand buries into the hair of the male and pulls him over that pulsating shaft. Eagerly the man slobbers in joy and plunges open mouth onto Baylis.
“See something you like man?” Baylis has his eyes locked on me. A rather sultry look of fire and beckoning in his eyes.”
“And break his joy?” Nodding towards the blond slobbering over Baylis. “ No, I fear the drink has taken the shine off my wants.”
“Well I can fix that.” Baylis reaches for his lute. The last thing I need is for him to whip up my lust with his talents.
“And waste this opportunity? The bar is as open and free as a wenches you stoked here. “To dwarven ale!”
“We already drank to that.” His eyes still rightfully eye me suspiciously.
“To free dwarven ale!” I down my drink hearing Baylis mutter.
“I cannot deny that… Free ale!” He drops the lute, moving the hand forward to shove the man down on his cock as he tosses his drink back.
I chance another peek at the kneeling statuette of the nymph, her head held titled slight with the hint of a knowing sublime smile. Her gaze locked intensely on the satyr as if weighing his responses with expectancy. The intensity catches me off guard, so focused, absolute as if her eyes could bend him to her will. Perhaps I over read here, but feeling that penetrating calm that hovers over me when her eyes shift to me, I wonder in this moment if she brings that to him.. I can feel her shift her attention slowly upon me, …. like a weight that pressing upon the soul,
Angus staggers towards us, and its quite clear the burden of the ale is beginning to weigh heavy on him. I turn again to him eying the brimming tankards and as he pulls up short I can see the confusion on him. I give him a silent gesture to choose which is the heavy brew, but he remains in indecision.
Gods, not now. I lean as hush whispers are exchanged.
“Which is it Angus?”
“I don’t know, you two are washing yourself quick in this , I just grabbed four to hurry back.”
“arrgh..” I cannot hide my momentary frustration.
“Is there a problem?” I hear Baylis ask a tinge of slur stretching his words..
I turn quick to Baylis and his response.
My dart of a reply is quick, “No problem, no problem, he merely voices admiration of your endowment. He’s rather shy in admitting it.”
“Is he now?” Baylis eyes the dwarf like a choice piece of meat. “I can relieve his inhibitions if he pleases.” His hands fumble toward his lute.
“Bear!” Angus stands teetering, yet his eyes flare with a panic at me. A harsh whisper escapes from him. “If he launches some dwarven ditty I’ll hunt you down. There’ll be…”
I grab a pair of tankard from him, swinging quick to Baylis, “As enticing as that might be then who would serve us? Best we think of things in hand then the possibilities …” I push the brew towards Baylis who beams bright at the gift and diverts again from the lute accepting them.
His eyes linger on Angus, “The skills of dwarves are far beyond their smithy skills. Have you ever had dwarven head?”
“No doubt legendary.”“Asshole… “ I hear Angus hiss. I swing to him quick. Too quick, the quick flood of brew is hitting me and the room spins for a second. I realize there is a chance from all appearances Baylis will outlast us. I lean into Angus hushly instructing, “Test them before you return, leave mine partially filled, our goal is to polish him off not me. Now go!”
Immediately my throat burned as if swallowing fire. My first reaction was to send the potent brew sprewing out in a spray over the naked masses before us. I half expected bodies to burst into flames where the brew landed. With watering eyes I glanced to Baylis, draining his tankard. Had he seen my transgression? My plan could be in ruins if he had. I teetered on the edge of failure and held my breath to await his reaction…..
Roberta Flack – Killing Me Softly With His Song.
Many thanks to Brandy for giving me some input and nudge of how to sew these passages I have been trying to hammer out over the past few weeks.
Hope you all enjoy it as the story plods forward.
The question now is should I plop them all in front of you or let them trinkle out day by day?
Decisions… decisions
Angus pushed the tankards forward, “It’s on you now laddie.” His words slur some and by the gloss of his eyes one can tell that the special Dwarven brew is quite potent.
“No worries,:” I gave him a confident grin. “Besides, what have I told you are my strengths?”
Angus rolled his eyes,… “Aye,,, fighting, drinking and fornicating. Not necessarily in that order.”
I gave him a wink as I pulled the vial of clear liquid from my pouch “Plays to my strengths then doesn’t it?” For all purposes this elixir seemed to quell the mind. I wasn’t certain, but hoped between the brews strength and the mind numbing abilities the old seleni would succumb to its effects .I popped the vials cork and tapped a few drops sparingly into the tankard taking.
“Tis a sleeping potion?” Angus eyed the brew curious, as if expecting a pop and smoke.
“Not exactly.” I shrugged carefully recorking the vial.
“That tells me little.”
“Well I am not sure.”
“Not sure?” Angus grunts weaving a bit. I did not answer him,…I could not answer him for the effects of the liquid in the vial were as much a mystery to me. All I knew was that it dulled the senses, ..all I could hope for was that it dulled his immense tolerance for alcohol into something manipulative.
With a deep breath to steady my nerves I collected the tankards, carefully as Angus had generously filled them to the brim. The amber fluid sloshed and ran over the edges as I turned pausing to read the clearest track to navigate around the orgy,
I may have sold Angus short in not revealing my true intentions. However I am a secretive creature, driven by the need to remain in the confusing shadows of purpose. It is a necessity when one pursues a demon, or that one carries a dark corruption inside. Like a motto, it manifests into a well rehearsed pattern of behavior. Move in stillness thru humanity, do not create ripples in the pool of society which might bring unwanted attention. Too often I held myself back while injustice played itself out before me. Yes,… I held myself back, and allowed the innocent to fall victim while heartless men took their advantage of them.
Angus might have understood my true compulsion, might was the key word. Waiting until Baylis cast a suspicious glance towards me before I added a flair of staggering gait to my walk, weaving indirectly towards the satyr leaving behind me a trickling trail of ale on the wooden planked floors.
His eyes held warningly upon as I finally rocked on my heels next to him. He waves me off indifferently, refocusing on the male and female knelt between his legs in worship of that mighty phallus. The blonde who had rode his insatiable engorged member lay exhausted to the side. New lust tended him, tongues which drug slow savoring his prowess, their fingers jockeying in position to grip and stroke him.I dare to steal a glance of the nymph. Her head tilts slightly taking in my presence with a look of curiosity. The tilt of her head just enough for me to catch a glimpse of metal about her neck.
It is the briefest of glimpses, and yet by the satyrs’ glare obviously already too long, I make my move fast before a cloven hoof lashes at me. I shove a pair of tankards forward towards Baylis, the brew cresting over the tankards rim and spilling onto his chest.
“Drink with me!” I cry, my pitch mildly set boorishly loud enough to cement his attention. He growled, pulling his hips up the seat in surprise as the brew sloshing over him. The cuddling pair between his legs scooted forward chasing their rigid pillar of worship.
Most men would have slapped the tankards away, but satyrs are not most men, being the offsprings of Pan they never turn from the offer of drink.
It’s a course of instinct in them I could have as easily dumped a tankard on his head and offered him the other, he would have as likely accepted the favor of drank .
Still he bore a begrudging reluctance as he yanked the tankards away, its contents rolling again over the rim onto him.
With his attention set firmly on me I held his beady stare. Satyrs are not comely creatures. Squarish of face with high foreheads bearing a distinct ridge under their thick unibrows. Eyes set deep beneath, recessed under that ridge leave them with an aura of dark mystery or dark erotic appeal, a distinction depending on how much you have to drank or fallen under the alluring magic of their music. The horns jutting from his high forehead are thick. denoting a creature of old age. Broad chested, thick arms, the mat of chest hair is thick, but nothing like the coat of hair that covers his hips and leg.“A toast,” I swear “to the God Pan.” Want a satyr to drink… toast their Deity, not necessarily a god but to Baylis would not quip at the over exaggeration, It would be sacrilege not to join in such high salute Baylis tossed his head back and drained the mug. I smiled as I drained my tankard, thinking blessed are the faithful.
Baylis wiped his mouth, a contented grin on his thin lips. “Dwarven Ale…. A good strong brew. “
I swayed a little nodding… “The good brew… he hides it…a shame, No doubt your thirst is great. It takes energy to enthrall such a crowd.” He made to speak, but I cut him off. “A toast,… to your skill and the honor it brings Pan.!” I drank immediately draining the tankard of house ale, sparing a glance to confirming the satyr followed suit, gulping the contents down swift.. I turn towards the bar and wave my arms Shouting “More!,.. Bartender,… More..”
Angus was already moving towards us carefully balancing four more tankards in his precarious weave thru the squirming sea of bodies. He pushes a pair of mugs towards me. Which I take somewhat perplexed, uncertain in the moment if they are my drink of the lite house ale or the heavy hitting drwaven brew .The obvious confusion must have been apparent, Angus nods his head jerking towards the satyr.
“Ah good my short fellow…. Don’t stop keep the drink flowing.“ I fumble for coin and flip it towards him. Again I shove the tankards towards Baylis “Drink,… drink while the brew can still flow freely.”
Baylis is leaning forward, his suspicious gaze locked on Angus as I relieve the dwarf of the remaining tankards. The satyr’s eyes narrow as the follow the retreating dwarf moving to the line of tankards set upon the bar. “I know him..”
My senses sparked with a warning, all could be undone if Baylis dwelled on that too long. My plan could be defeated when it had scarcely began
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