- So when users favorite my posts, I get a notice with a link to their blogs (if they have one). I always like to see what the other depraved reprobates are writing; and this post is a result of that. The story is a combination of two posts, Bottoms Up by Cara Thereon and ‘nother storm by Tripx713. So, guys, this post is for the two of you.
If revenge is a dish best served cold, then collecting on a bet is ice cream with a cherry on top. Here’s how it started. We were in his pickup truck on a hot as hell day in Louisiana—the kind the melts the nail polish off a girl’s nails. He had one arm over the back of our bench seat and my feet were out the corner of the roll down window.
—Nothin’ hotter than a girl with her bare feet out the window, he said.
—Well, maybe a scrawny girl like you, ass up, head down, and her hair in my fist.
—Keep your eyes on the road, babe.
—I can multi-task, he complained, offended. I can multi-task!
—Scrawny girls are best, huh Babe? I cocked my head and slipped a fingernail’s tip between my teeth. Especially a scrawny little brunette girl, with little scrawny tits and long hair, just like mine, who likes big beefy guys with beards and big cocks that make her scream—just like you?
—Babe, he got serious, you know I love your scrawny tits, right?
—Tell me again.
—I’ll tell you again. Hell, I’ll tell you. Now I’ve had girlfriends with tits like the kind that turn men unto fawning little boys. And I’ll tell you what, more often than not titty play don’t accomplish a thing with those girls. But the scrawny girls? Now, their boobs may be scrawny, but I never met a scrawny girl whose tits weren’t little firecrackers. See, most men got it all wrong. Its the scrawny girls with their little firecracker titties they should be chasing. But men, they got all visual and stupid. And you know what else I like about tits on a scrawny girl?
—They’re so —GOD— damn perky! And nothing like a tight scrawny girl. The scrawnier she is, the bigger the cock goes inside her.
I put my hand on his crotch and the thick knot of ache right under the zipper.
—Now you got yourself all worked up over me, I crooned with satisfaction.
—So what do you want to bet? he asked.
—A dollar, I said.
—A dollar? he guffawed. What’s wrong Baby? Maybe you should just go head and suck my cock now.
—You can suck mine,
—Now that would be somethin’.
—Would you, Baby? I asked. If I had one?
—That ain’t even funny.
—Would you, sugar? I squeezed his cock. If I had one? A big one? Scrawny little me? Just the same ole’ me but with a cock?
—Now look, he said, pursing his lips like a man wanting to change the subject. You wanna’ bet something or not?
He ignored me. He said: If I win you do whatever I tell you. If I tell you to get on your hands and knees for a good hard fuck from behind, you lift that pussy in the air. Holler all you want ‘bout what an asshole I am and I’ll take care of business. Deal?
—And if I win?
He outright laughed.
—I’ll tell you what, he said, I’ll do whatever you want, Babe. Sexual. Gotta’ be sexual. I’ll do whatever you want.
—What if it’s a fuck from behind?
—Oh hell yes, he grabbed my hair. See how easy it is to come to an agreement. Win. Win. He leaned over quick, the truck swerved, and he kissed me. Hard.
And by the way?
And so about a week later, cause snail mail takes about a week, I reminded him about that bet. He was in the garage, sprawled out on the concrete, working under his Harley. I put on my shortest shorts and a little halter top. I was even sucking a cherry lollipop for effect.
—So watch’ya workin’ on? I asked.
—Crank case, Babe.
—So you know that bet?
He rolled onto his back, all sweat, dirt and grease; and saw me.
—God damn, Babe!
—I wanna’ collect.
—Right now, I hope!
—Naw, I said, I gotta’ minute.
—Better be a quick one.
—You don’t even know what I want, Sugar!
—I live to serve.
—You first gotta’ talk a little. You know? We women, that’s all we do. Talk. Talk. Talk. Talk warms us up. Especially us waifs—us scrawny, brainy girls. I went to him, straddled him, and lowered myself like I was fitting his cock inside. He reached for my tits. I slapped his hand away. Nah, see, I said, you don’t even know what I want to talk about!
—Your minute’s runnin’ out.
—I’m collectin’ on my bet, Baby. I got as many minutes as I want.
He exhaled piteously.
—So, I said, you gotta ’ be completely honest. Think you can do that? I ground against his groin and found that stiffening, lengthening, trapped piece of man I loved. He groaned. I want you to tell me: What do you like about fucking a girl from behind?
—Oh baby, that’s gonna’ take more than a minute.
—You gotta’ be somewhere?
—He lifted his pelvis between the spread of my legs.
—Then start talkin’, Sugar.
—Well, I’ll tell you, there’s ain’t no better way to appreciate a girl’s curves. It’s like, when you’re a boy, and you wonder what’s goin’ on with girls, all those curves busting out everywhere, and then when you see a girl on her hands and knees, cunt lifted up, prettiest face in all the world down, it all makes sense. And honest to God you don’t know which, on a girl, is prettier. Ain’t nothing so divine as a girl bent over—her pussy in the middle of that beautiful round, divided globe of her ass. A goddamn flower no bee in the world’s gonna’ say no to. A girl don’t need do anything else. She could be on the opposite end of Death Valley and a man would cross it just to kneel behind her, to hold the round perfection of her hips in his hands, to fill her pussy with his cock. There ain’t no call in nature like it. And there’s nothing makes a man feel more like a man. Nothing. God damn nothing. Not if she’s on her back, legs spread like a ballerina. Not if she’s on top and tellin’ him he’s the master of her fucking universe. There’s nothing makes a man more a man than fucking his girl from behind. And there’s nothing makes a girl more a girl, a woman, or more feminine, than when she’s bent over, when her pussy is up, like a wet flower, and her head is down. A man’s all cock and a girl’s all pussy. Yin and yang. And I’ll tell you, as a man, you can’t ever get your cock deeper in a woman than when you fuck her from behind. And she knows it. You can can make her scream, squirm, scratch and claw like you were puttin’ a baby straight in her belly right then and there. And she knows that’s what it’s all about. She knows. A fucking from behind makes a woman feral, makes her kind of crazy and cum hungry, makes her say things she’d never say in civilized society—cock, cunt, pussy, fuck, jizz, cum. You hold her by a fistfull of hair, and she’s your bitch. She’ll claw the sheets, she’ll scream and grunt, she’ll open her knees and lift her cunt, like a girl never knows her place like when she’s fucked from behind. She’s gotta’ bend over, she’s gotta’ submit, she’s gotta’ take a man’s business until he’s god-damn done—until he’s put a baby in her or died tryin’. That’s raw nature. There ain’t no meetin’ of the eyes or long gaze, just her cunt, opening like a flower when she ends over, and fillin’ it.
Now I was grinding my cunt on his cock, sweating, the seams of our jeans between us.
—Now, he said, you want to tell me what you like about doggy? ‘Cause I think I know what you want.
I rested both palms on his shoulders. I leaned over. I whispered.
—I’ll be straight up. You wanna’ know my favorite? Being fucked from behind. You know why? Cause when you’re on all fours, when you’re turned the other way, all you know about the man fucking you is his cock, how hard he is, how deep he goes, how you feel him in places that make your toes curl, make your spine arch for more and make you claw the sheets for less. You’re his cunt, his bitch, his slut on all fours. Get on all fours and you tell him you’re his to use, that you’ll submit to him, and that you’ll never have more power of him. He’ll walk Death Valley. He’ll do anything: he’ll kiss my feet, lick my pussy, bite my ass until I spread my knees just a little more, lift my cunt just a little higher, take his spunk just a little deeper. You wanna’ know why being fucked from behind is my favorite? “Cause when I close my eyes, every thrust is about me, wantin’ me, fuckin’ me, fillin’ me, and a woman’s never more possessed or deserved by a man. And you wanna’ know why else I like it? A woman on her hands and knees makes a man rough, makes him feral, makes him slap my ass, makes him grip my hips till they bruise, makes my tits swing, makes him yank my hair to lift my ass higher, makes him shove his cock in my cunt and my face in the bed until I’m just drool, spittle and a cunt full of come. If only you knew the lovely brutality of being fucked from behind. Every man should be fucked from behind, have the air shoved of out of him, should taste the sheets, floor, and carpet when he comes.
—Nah, he said, the way that cunt blossoms when you bend over? You’re nature’s design, Baby.
I kissed him and stood.
—You know what I want? I said.
—Just say where, Baby.
—I’ll be ready for ya, I said. Just give me five minutes.
And I walked out working my hips like a frisky kitten. Five minutes later he’d washed his hands, scrubbed his elbows, and tied his long hair in a pony tale. My man was all smiles when he saw me under the thin sheet.
—Awe Baby, what’ya need a sheet for? Let me help you with that.
He knelt at the bottom of the bed, lumbered over me on all fours, and pulled down the sheet.
I wrapped my scrawny little hands around my eight inch, latex boner and stroked it. Ready for some doggy-style? I asked.
My man laughed. My favorite man, my best friend in the whole world, laughed and looked at me like I’d played an April Fool’s joke on him. You little minx! he guffawed. Now you sure you know how to use that? They shouldn’t be lettin’ little girls like you have somethin’ like that. That’s just downright dangerous. They oughtta’ have background checks for something like that, Baby.
I was so happy that he laughed that I grabbed his hair and kissed him as hard as a girl can kiss.
—It shoots come, Baby, I said
—Oh, I dunno’.
—Worried I’m too big?
He laughed again, an almost rueful laugh, then screwed up his courage.
—For you Baby, ain’t nothin’ too big.
—You make me so hard, I purred.
—Now you’re not goin’ to go braggin’ to all your friends, are you? he asked.
—Now, Baby, I wouldn’t do nothin’ you wouldn’t do.
—That’s what worries me.
I pushed and wriggled out from under him.
—You sure ‘bout this, Baby? He straightened, still on his knees. You sure you don’t want what God made you for? I’ll take you to the moon and back.
—Sugar, I said, stepping behind him on the springy mattress, we’re goin’ to the moon all right, ‘cept I’m drivin’. Now get your ass up. Spread your legs, baby. It might get a little rough.
He grunted again, hesitated, then bent over—my big man. His balls and cock hung down, tumescent and heavy, the delicious way cocks hang when a girl grabs its attention. I knelt behind him. I traced his spine, followed his spine downward over his asshole and to his balls. I fished out a squirt bottle of lube I’d hidden under the sheets. Next thing I lubed up my hands, lubed my cock, and began to work his cock like I was milking a cow. He groaned and spread his legs.
—You ready, Baby? I asked. I’m just gonna’ work some lube into your pussy.
—Pussy? Awe now, don’t say that.
My boy’s cock thickened, twitched, hardened and lifted to his stomach. I saw his fingers flex when I slipped a finger into his asshole. Then another and a third until he was groaning and swearing under his breath.
—You like that, Baby? I asked, and felt his cock twitch as I pumped.
—Fuck. He lingered on the word, drawing it out with a rumbling exhalation. Then almost a bellow: Damn! Jesus, fuck!
—Don’t tell me you’re a virgin?
That was enough lubing. I was shivering with excitement, like it was the first time. Heart racing. I moved the tip of my cock to his asshole and delicately pushed the huge crown against the hole.
—Oh fuck, he shuddered again.
—Oh now, I cooed, how many times have you fucked me from behind? Just relax, Baby. All that hurtin’s gonna’ turn into pleasure.
—I’m never fuckin’ bettin’ you again.
—Just relax, Babe.
I pressed the crown harder into the nook of his asshole. My boy stiffened, huffed and puffed. I pushed a little harder. He inhaled sharply, a little high-pitched cry, and my cock abruptly sunk into him. The lips of his asshole slid down the shank of my cock. Spellbound, I kept shoving, sinking smoothly, unobstructed, until he was almost squealing with each breath.
—Oh Baby, I breathed, I get it. I get why you gotta’ fuck from behind. I do. I get it.
I shoved all of my cock in him until he bellowed and his cock, as hard and swollen as I’d ever felt a cock, twitched violently and I felt warmth drip from my hand.
—Did you come.
—No, Baby, no, he groaned.
I lifted my hand, dripping with a gooey, clear syrup, like the kind that slicks a man’s cock when he’s gonna’ bust he wants to fuck so bad. I held his hips like a wanted to bruise them. I started thrusting, He grunted and bellowed at the tip of each stroke. I was drunk. I was delirious. Wasn’t \several minutes before I had his face shoved into the pillows and I was squatting behind him, hooking him with every swing. My boy was hooting and hollerin’ like a girl.
—You like that, bitch? I snarled.
—Awe, fuck, Baby!
—Arch your back, bitch. Arch it. Fuckin’ little pussy.
I reached under and pumped his cock like a man milks a girl’s tits when he fucks her from behind. My boy was huffing like a freight train.
—Are you my cunt? I asked.
—Are you my little cunt?
—Yeah baby! Yeah. Yeah I am. I’m your little cunt!
—Yeah— Jesus! I’m your bitch! He squealed.
I grabbed his hair and yanked his head back, making him lift his pussy just as high as it would go. I slapped his ass. I pressed my cock into him like I just as deep as a man’s ever penetrated a woman. He reared up. He screamed and more of that clear fluid leaped out of his cock like he was pissing.
—Oh fuck, yes, I snarled.
Each time I drew back and hooked, he pissed out more of that juice.
—I’m gonna’ come, Baby! He screamed.
—Like a little whore?
—Oh fuck, like a little whore, he screamed. Like a little whore!
—Are you my bitch?
—Little bitch! I frantically pumped his cock and thrust into him rough as I could. Dirty little whore! I snarled and bit his shoulder blade.
He bellowed. I shoved my prick up hard as I could and held myself there. I gave my toy an extra squeeze. As my boy exhaled a broken and guttural moan, my toy’s fake semen spurted into his ass as his own semen striped the sheets and pillows with the same staccato bursts. There just wasn’t room in him for all that semen and my cock. Had to come out.
He shuddered once more and collapsed onto the bed, face down, akimbo. I landed on top of him.
—I ain’t done yet, I said, patting his ass.
My broken bitch groaned and I pulled out as he rolled over. Oh man, he rumbled, what did you do to me? My toy’s semen dribbled out of his stretched hole and pooled between his thighs. He lifted his balls and gingerly prodded.
—What the fuck?
—Awe, you didn’t come in me, did you?
I pulled his arm back up and held his wrists crossed above him. I rode his lips and tongue, my eight inch cock back and forth on his forehead, until I squirted in his mouth. Almost suffocated him, but when I’d had my come I rolled next to him and we both stared blank at the ceiling.
—You haven’t lived till you’ve fucked a big beefy guy from behind, I said.
—Baby, now, you haven’t lived till some scrawny girl’s shoved her prick up your ass.
—Next time, I said, I’m gonna’ make you lick my cock clean.
—Nah, Baby, he sighed, that’s a girl’s job.
—You wanna’ bet?
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