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Fantasy

voyeuristic sister

She knew for certain there would be a surprised reaction from her little brother, as she gained the courage to push open his bedroom door and reveal her voyeuristic self; but nothing prepared her for the startling yelp that leapt forth from the very core of his being when she did just that. Nor was she even remotely prepared her for the sight that followed. It was as if he had tried to jump up, but became immediately paralyzed by the moment of his orgasm: his young body all-at-once tensing and jerking up to a position of mid-crunch— eyes wide— shocked and in utter panic to be so suddenly and helplessly exposed by his sister. Instinctively, he tried to clamp down on his little dick as hard as he could, but it proved to be too late; and the timing of being caught at that precise moment was simply too much. His howl, or bark, or yell (or whatever it was) startled both of them. And no sooner had the sound erupted from his lungs than he became frozen and muted in that position as well— bug-eyed and mouth open, agog in disbelief of her throwing open the door— and then he came. All over his sheets. His cum, profoundly and soundly hitting the pillow beside his head. She had no idea! It was a tremendous sight: the cum that shot out of his jerked-to-pink penis, arcing in a series of long roping ribbons that shot over and past his young torso, over and past his shoulder, to splatter audibly on his pillow— *splat, splat, splatter, splatter*— for a moment (both of them) frozen in time, with his cum-spewing little cock uncontrollably shooting its white stuff five or six times, and then it was over.
Well, almost over, of course. Unclenched from his orgasm nearly as quickly as it had seized him, next came the mad scramble for him to cover his blatantly exposed, cum-drooling little penis with something. The closest thing he had at hand was his underwear— a pair of boys’ white briefs discarded casually on the bed beside him— and his sister couldn’t help but (unsuccessfully) suppress a little giggle as she witnessed the comical action of him snatching for such a pathetic piece of cover up. He did, however, next manage to grab the tangle of covers at the foot of his bed and was able to at least get them above his hips. And this time there was no mistaking what he uttered:
“What the HELL are you doing?!!!” he screamed at her. “Get the fuck outta’ HERE!!!” he screeched.
And his shouting was indeed enough to make her tuck tail and run. Bounding down the hallway, before she even made it to her room, she heard his door slam behind her.
It hadn’t gone at all like she had imagined. She had suspected that he would be shocked and probably shout at her; but she had no idea he would immediately start spurting cum from his penis through the air like that! … She had rehearsed in her mind that she would say something like, “don’t stop on my account”— as minutes before she had been spying on him through a door only slightly ajar, gripping her own heated crotch through the tightness of her jeans and basically feeling herself up; her other hand up her baby t-shirt, groping and moving alternately from one small tit to the other, as she stood outside his door and rocked her little body against her hands. She had expected a confrontation, but somehow thought she would persuade him to keep going so she could get an up-close and personal look at his private little jerk off session.
Whether she truly knew it for herself or not at that moment, she would have been fully prepared and ready to drop her jeans and panties and show her little brother the shape of her own virginal sex— such was the nature of her intense curiosity as she continued to explore and discover her developing sexuality. She was kind of amazed by the fact that her little brother, two years her junior, would already have such a member between his legs (as it wasn’t exactly “little”) and that he would no less be stroking it to such a full-on cum, and— oh my god, the sudden replay of him tensing-up and cumming like that!
In a way, it felt more like she had just been busted. And in a way it was true. How long had she been standing at his door? Her heart was beating a million miles an hour. Behind her own door now, she could hear it throbbing in her ears, and she could see her chest pounding through her thin t-shirt. She listened intensely to hear him make some noise, any noise, from the other end of the hallway— but nothing. She stole a glance at herself in her dresser mirror. It almost embarrassed her. She was glossy with sweat. Her mousey brown hair was a bit of a mess, and her mouth was still hanging open from the stupefying moment of having just witnessed her naked little brother spewing such a remarkable fountain of cum. She had made him cum. A loop tape was playing in her mind, and it just kept playing the scene of her young brother, cinching-up, and shooting those five incredible blasts of jetting cum from his penis over and over again. She looked at her mouth. It was wet and pouty-looking. She shuddered. *Splat, splat, splat, splat, splat*— she could still hear his load hitting the pillow, as if in rhythm with her pounding heart.
Her legs were weak, and her mind was racing beyond any coherent tangible thought. Standing in front of her mirror, she noticed how distinctly her erect little nipples were poking through her t-shirt, and she felt the urge to strip her shirt off for a better look. Did she hear him coming down the hallway?— no. Taking her shirt off over her head, her tiny A-cup titties pointed back at her proudly from the mirror. She immediately cupped them with her hands. They had no bounce to them, but she could certainly make them jiggle a little if she shook her shoulders back and forth, or otherwise spanked at them with the flat of her fingers. At this stage of her development, her small tits were dominated more by nipple and areola than any mound of breast, and when excited, they protruded from her chest like little cones— her young puffy nipples an almost imperceptible shade of pink against the virginal whiteness of her burgeoning breasts.
With her shirt off, she ran her hands down over her smooth belly and proceeded to unbutton her jeans. One button at a time, until her jeans were flaring suggestively open, exposing her pink cotton panties. Pink panties were her favorite. She loved pink. A chill rushed over her body. She could feel her pointy nipples standing fully erect and only wished that her tongue could reach them. (God knows, she had tried). Was he coming?? … still, no. Oh man, but had he ever cum!!! … The loop tape still played in her mind. Venturing a hand into her unbuttoned pants, she discovered just how hot and wet her virginal pussy truly was. Her little panties were absolutely plastered to her little twat, and she could feel the wetness seeping through them.
In this whirlwind moment, she replayed how she had first heard the *fap, fap, fapping* sounds coming from her little brother’s room and the soft moans he was undoubtedly trying to suppress. She had deduced immediately what was going on, but for some reason she just had to see it!— Turning the doorknob had been risky business, but she couldn’t help herself; and when she discovered that it turned easily, her heart had caught in her throat. She had almost backed out, right then and there, but her curiosity was simply too overwhelming. Slowly pushing his door open to an ample crack of four or five inches, she saw him. Her little brother— lying flat on his back, completely naked on top of his sheets, his feet pointed toward the door, and his legs spread just wide enough for her to get a good look at his young dick, as he pumped away on it. Up, down, up, down, up, down, at a feverish blur of a pace. Her heart raced like a drum roll on a snare drum; her eyes glued to the scene. Aside from the blonde hair on his head, he was bare everywhere else on his boyish body, except for the lightest patch of blonde where his pubes were beginning to grow. His balls were tight and round. And he was jerking his dick rapidly.
As she replayed all of this, standing in front of her mirror, she almost unwittingly started to wriggle out of her jeans. The house was deathly quiet, aside from the incessant throbbing in her ears. She was kind of frightened by the repercussions that might arise from her intrusion upon him, and she had fleeting fears of what he might be doing down the hallway at that moment— but mostly, she was still consumed by the freakin’ loop tape of having just seen him cum. Recalling his look of utter shock, she caught herself in the mirror with a wicked little grin flirting with the corners of her mouth. Was there a noise? … no. Hooking her thumbs into her jeans, she peeled them on down her legs and stepped out of them. Standing, she was astonished to see in the mirror that her pussy had in fact completely drenched her panties. Her slit— no, the entirety of her hot little teenage cunt— was defined (one might say crudely so) through the pink cotton fabric of her sopping wet panties. They were even glossy on the outside!
Dipping her middle finger to the wettest spot of her crotch, she found a slickness sliding around on her panties which she had never known; and touching her clit in the process sent such a surge throughout her young body that she thought she might just pee. She clutched her crotch, as her other hand sought support from the dresser. The feeling subsided. Though she could acutely feel the inner lips of her wet wet pussy desirous to suck at the length of her finger through her soaked panties. She brought her finger up to examine it. Slick with her juice, it was slippery, yet clear. Very slippery. It smelled really interesting(?) … good even— like a flower— so she tasted it. She looked at herself in the mirror. Topless, her pointy little tits jutting saucily out from her, sucking on her finger, her hair disheveled, with her sopping wet little cunt suspended in her pink wet panties.
“mmmmm …” she softly hummed on her finger.
She stood and reached with her other hand down toward her pussy— only this time, she slowly ventured her hand inside her panties. She was immediately greeted by her extraordinary wetness. Slippery-slidey. It even coated the backs of her knuckles. Her pussy felt like it was absolutely melting around her fingers as she slowly pushed three of them through the wet creases that defined her young labia. She had a tight little pussy, and firm, but with little effort she could pressure her middle finger to dip between her juicy lips and tap at her tight virgin hole. For the time being however, she was wrapped in the sensation of her steamy wet vagina, wetter than it had ever been, seemingly wanting to suck her finger in. She could feel it flaring open. Pulsing. Everything sliding around. The panties had to go.
She flashed to her little brother. [Silence]. He was surely freaked. He might be furious. He had yelled at her. And god!— why was that funny?!! … (She didn’t think for one minute that he might be embarrassed out of his skin). He hardly ever cursed. Maybe that was it. The way he screamed “get the fuck outta’ here” with his boyish voice cracking to a dog whistle pitch. The look of shock on his face was priceless. And that incredible cum!
Was there a noise?! … no. She was so nervous.
Unnerved was more like it. In reality, as with most sibling relationships, she had the upper hand as the older of the two. Forever two years older than he, having wielded her power of seniority over him since his birth. But this was simply the natural dynamic, and she never really consciously thought about it— much less in this situation, nor in this precise moment.
She retracted her hand and looked at it again. Her fingers were simply slimy. She pulled the waistband of her panties away to look down into them. The same glossy puddle that was streaking the outside of her panties was nothing short of a slick shiny pool in the crotch of them. And when she pulled them away, she saw a little spittle-strand of sticky juice roping away from the smacking wet lips of her cummy little pussy. It was as if she had had a wet dream in her panties; and yet she was fully conscious.
She thought maybe she better get a grip on herself. It was risky what she was doing right then. All hell could break loose from down the hallway. (But then too the danger somehow made it better). She was riding on a tremendous wave, a rollercoaster, peaking between nervousness from the heart-pounding incident just moments ago and the havoc the replay of it was wreaking upon her mind and between her legs. She just couldn’t shake the image of her naked little brother shooting his cum so uncontrollably.
She slowly peeled her panties down her thighs, looking at herself all the while in the mirror. Her green eyes. Her perky little tits. Her panties were so wet that they rolled into themselves as soon as she started pulling them down, and she felt their wetness sliding along her inner thighs. At a certain point she let them fall, and they fell with a plop around her ankles. She stepped one foot out of them and used the other to lift them to her hand. She took them up and smelled them. She had certainly made wet more than one pair of panties before, but never had she so unconsciously creamed them to this extent! She couldn’t help but lick them. Her girly cum had a slight tangy taste. She leaned in toward the mirror and watched herself as she licked out the crotch of her nasty little panties. Enough of her juice had collected in them that when she licked at the slippery mess, she brought a fair amount of her nectar onto her tongue and into her mouth to taste. Her tiny panties were noticeably heavy with their wetness in her hand— and still savoring the feel and taste of her own cum, she ground her face into them. The slick crotch coated her freckled nose, and she inhaled deeply as she smeared them around, practically making love to them. Her mind jumped to the image of her brother shooting that cum. She then wondered what he might taste like— what his cum would taste like! She felt her pussy clenching.
She could still see him jerking that pink little dick of his. His thin, naked blonde body stretched out before her. His hips bucking up occasionally in an alternate rhythm to his hand. The crack of his little butt peeping from between his legs. His soft moaning and grunting. His face cast toward the ceiling. His young bare chest and tiny pink nipples. She liked all of it. Maybe she should have left well enough alone. She had probably just blown any chance of ever spying on that again!
But, considering the situation, she had made him blow too. And the continual replay of it may very well have just made the whole experience worth it. She tossed her panties behind her on the bed. She leaned in toward her mirror, bracing her hands against the edge of the dresser. She gave herself a long hard look, looking directly into her own eyes. She felt the cool air of the room between her legs, and on the wetness of her pussy. She had truly never been so wet before. Her inner thighs were still wet from the trail her panties had left behind. She was still nervous, and her heart was still pounding; but moreover she was horny as hell. And standing naked before her mirror made her even hornier. Again, she reached with her right hand to grip and feel her dripping wet little cunt. Her middle finger slipped right into her juicy slit. She moaned with pleasure.
Was she too loud? The house was still so eerily silent. She certainly didn’t want to get caught! Or did she? — She didn’t know … (And she really wasn’t even thinking about it to that extent). All she knew was that she couldn’t get over the idea of her naughty little brother down the hallway jerking his cute little penis to make it cum like that.
She felt the tip of her finger at the opening of her pink virgin hole. Her tight little teen fuck hole— contracting, opening in a way, and sucking at her finger. She shuddered. She felt her sweet girly juice leaking out of her and coating the entirety of her pussy. Spreading her lips with her adjacent fingers, she sunk the tip of her middle finger into her hot little hole. Her knees buckled slightly. She caved to the feeling of it. Still bracing with her other hand, she bent her knees a little more and dropped her tight round ass down a bit to force her finger further up her horny pussy. Up to the second knuckle. Again, she felt the cool air rushing between her semi-squatting bum. And then she felt a trickle of her juice slowly making its way to her butthole. It made her quiver violently, and she almost lost her grip on the dresser. She had to stand up quickly before she fell on her ass.
Backing away from the mirror, she looked at herself full-length again. Her conical little titties were as hard and erect as ever, and her lithe young body looked glossy in the light. Her pubic hair had only just begun to grow in the past year or so, giving her fresh virginal pussy the appearance of a light bronze peach; and at that precise moment, her tasty little peach looked like it was sweating. Reaching down with both hands, she tilted her small hips forward and spread her lips as best as she could. Her young girlish vagina looked like a glistening red teardrop between her legs; and her tiny round pussy hole— glazed and bubbling with her fragrant juice— looked too small for even a pinky finger. Though she certainly knew better.
Spreading her wet slit open, she had the flashing thought of what it might feel like to have her little brother shoot his cum on it. At which instant she felt her pussy contract again— only this time her naughty little hole actually squirted from it a surprising spurt of her juice. It sprinkled her inner thighs, with a tiny splash reaching the floor. She clapped a hand over her pussy. She thought surely she was about to pee. But as her fingers made contact with her wet little mound, she realized that the dripping wetness between her legs was just more of the same. More of the slick slimy juice that had soaked her panties earlier, and which was now dripping down her legs. Nevertheless, it was a first for her. Her pussy had never been so wet; much less squirted and dripped like that!
She felt utterly naughty at that moment. Almost bad. She ran her fingers the length of her slippery little slot, and then brought them to her mouth to suck and lick them clean again. Opening her mouth, she put three fingers in all at once and looked at herself in the mirror, as she grabbed one of her protruding tits with her other hand. She realized then that she absolutely and unequivocally looked like a dirty little slut. (A “tramp,” her mother would say). And she liked it. Her shaggy short brown hair. Her thin pale body and erect pointy tits. The soft peachy fuzz growing on her light brown mound. It all foretold of her journey into womanhood. And yet there she was, still very much a girl, jaybird naked in front of her mirror, with her wet little pussy dripping between her legs, as she sucked her own juice from her fingers. It turned her on immensely. A bad girl she was. And a bad girl she had been— minutes ago, spying on her little brother through his door.
… *fap, fap, fap, fap* — *fap, fap, fap* …
Oh what a sight.
She had known since the age of 10 the reason and purpose for the difference between a boy’s and a girl’s genitalia. And, at the time of learning about the birds-and-the-bees, it had been kind of weird and embarrassing to think about. But now— (and especially after the sight she had just witnessed)— her curiosity was taking an upward turn. Wondering what it would actually feel like.
She reached for the hairbrush that she used to curl her hair under. Its black handle was nice and round and smooth. And narrow enough (she had found) to insert it in her tight young pussy. Taking it in hand, she crawled up onto the end of her bed. (This wasn’t the first time). She enjoyed the position of being on all-fours on the end of her bed, because it put her up just high enough that she could look over her shoulder and view what she was doing to herself in the dresser mirror. Otherwise, she would have to stand to see herself frontally. Which she did too. But there was just something about looking back at herself with her small ass and pussy pointed at the mirror. In this position, her little round ass would naturally spread, her peach of a pussy looking nice and fuckable; and seeing her pink little butthole just made her feel naughty and horny as hell.
On her bed with hairbrush in hand, she reached over her back to position its handle in the crack of her ass— her wet teen pussy hugging one side of the shiny black phallus. A quiver ran through her body. She wondered truly what it would be like if her improvised hairbrush were indeed a boy’s penis. A nice hard dick. Fleshy, and attached to horny young boy who was about to put it in her. The cool air of the room reminded her just how wet her pussy was; and seeing herself in the mirror, she couldn’t help but realize how nakedly exposed she was. Her lithe young body jacked up for the fuckin’. Her white ass spreading, with her pink little holes— just waiting!
Turning the handle of the brush to point its tip at her tight young cunt, she slowly eased it into her wet hole. She felt the slight bulge of it spreading her pussy open as she sunk it in deeper. She let out and open-mouthed moan. She caught herself drooling, and sucked her saliva quickly back into her mouth. Deeper. Slowly. Almost there. The handle almost completely in. She felt it stretching and filling her vagina up. Sliding in with little resistance, her tight little love tunnel was so slippery and wet. Another half-inch, and it was all the way in— the bristly end poking out and brushing roughly against her smooth pale butt. She took her hand away. The brush was stuck in her, and her tight pussy was holding it there. She wagged her small round butt at the mirror. She felt so utterly naughty.
Her wet pink panties lay in front of her on the bed. She could not resist the urge to pick them up and shove them in her face again. The saturating smell of her young pussy was amazing. She poked her panties into her mouth, cramming as much of them into her small mouth as she could fit. And then she sucked. She felt like such a raunchy little slut. The hairbrush filling her up, as she sucked the fragrant juices out of her panties. She turned her head to look at herself in the mirror again— her panties hanging from her mouth as if she were some little wild animal.
… And then she saw him!— in the reflection of her mirror!— peering through her cracked-open door! …
OH GOD!

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Fantasm

Terror in the Snowstorm – Final Capter

This is the final chapter in the story of beautiful blond heiress Tara Hawthorne, and the poor man she came to love, me, Seth Johnson. To understand the background and growth of our relationship, you will have to read the first three parts of this series. As with the other chapters, this is not so much a sex story as it is a life story. Also, it is rather long. If you need a quick thrill, check out the works of some of the other authors who submit their work to this site. Please post constructive criticisms, so my future work will be more pleasing to you.

Fiction

Online Fun

This is a Fiction story. This is a story of pure fiction: Repeat THIS NEVER HAPPENED

Fantasy

How I Got Jennifer Lawrence Pregnant

A short bit for 4chan’s /tv/ board about how I impregnate Jlaw and then fuck her while she’s pregnant. I took ideas from the audience, like on Whose Line is it Anyway, and then jacked off while I wrote it, unlike Whose Line is it Anyway. Enjoy.

Fiction

MY COLONOSCOPY (Humor)

Dedicated to fellow writer Clarise.
Dear reader; this non-erotic short story is my first attempt at writing humor. If you want a little chuckle read on and then leave a comment to let me know what you think of my effort. If you are looking for something a little more sexually salacious, you might want to look at another offering and then come back when you are in the mood for humor.
In support and in solidarity, I dedicate this story to my friend and fellow writer, Clarise, who recently had one of her stories deleted. My Colonoscopy:
by Hardrive
After several weeks of complaining about stomach discomfort and constipation, my wife Rita got tired of my belly aching and called her fudge-packing brother for advice. That made a lot of sense. After all, who better to ask about asshole problems than your queer brother? Woops, did I say queer? I meant to say Homo-American. Anyway, Rita said her brother recommended I go see a gastroenterologist for a full evaluation.
“What?” I asked, “An ass-hole-enter what? That doesn’t even sound like a real doctor. It’s probably some kind of voodoo fag doctor.”
“No, you homophobic ignore-anus” came Rita’s cynical reply. “A gas-tro-enter-ologist, is a doctor that specializes in disorders of the digestive system. My brother is a well regarded general practitioner and if he says you should have a full evaluation of your intestinal track, that’s exactly what you’re going to do. It’s high time someone looks up your stupid ass to see what kind of problems you’ve got brewing up there.”
“Oh, really,” I said, mocking her sarcastic tone, “Since you insist I need to have my colon examined by a doctor, I guess you’re finally ready to admit you’ve been wrong about me all these years.” Rita’s perplexed expression indicated that she had no idea what I was talking about, so I explained. “You’re always saying that I have my head stuck up my ass.” Rita nodded in agreement. “Well,” I said with a smug smile, “if my head was really up my ass why would we need to hire a doctor to see what’s wrong… I could see it for myself.”
I thought that was hilarious, so I slapped my wife’s butt and did a little victory jig while laughing my head off. Rita wasn’t amused.
“Oh, you can’t take it when I get the upper hand.” I started to mock her. “You think you and that fairy brother of yours are so much smarter than me. Just ‘cause I don’t have a fancy college education don’t mean that I can’t tell when you’re trying to pull my leg. There is no such thing as an ass-hole-enter-whatever, So, go ahead and make an appointment with your made-up doctor. I dare you.” Rita just gave me an icy stare, smiled and walked away.
A week later we were sitting at the doctor’s office listening to him explain why I needed to have a colonoscopy. I told the doc I’ve never heard of a cola-ass-copy and had no idea what he was talking about. The doctor picked up a book with full color illustrations and used it to thoroughly explain the procedure. Pointing to the interior of the large intestine he indicated the areas that he wanted to examine and photograph.
Nodding thoughtfully, I pretended to understand what he was talking about and asked a question or two that was intended to display my advanced knowledge of medical terms. “Will you be using an x-ray camera or an MIR to photograph my inners?
The doctor smiled. “No, we use a flexible hose to guild a miniature camera through your anus and into the full length of your large intestine.” Then he showed me a picture of a little camera attached to a very long black hose.
Hell no! I said to myself. I won’t even let my family doctor check my prostate, so there was no way this joker was going to shove a big old hose up my ass. Looking around the office I spotted the door, popped up out of my seat and began to vigorously shake the doctor’s hand while I thank him profusely for wonderful presentation. The doctor seemed confused and tired to interrupt me several times but I just continued to pump his hand while backing up towards the door. My plan was working just fine and I actually got to openthe door open and had one foot over the threshold before my wife decided to intervene.
Now at this point I’d like to pause to give my male readers some advice. Never marry a stout, red headed woman of Italian-Irish descent. That combination gives them a split personality that makes Bruce Banner’s transformation into the Hulk look like a mild eccentricity. In public she tries to maintain the illusion that she is the devoted wife and I’m the boss in our relationship… but in reality she calls all the shots and only lets me do what she wants me to do.
In public she always agrees with me but she uses a code to let me know what she really wants. Whenever she smiles and says ‘Yes dear’ while putting the accent on the ‘yes’ but elongating the ‘dear,’ that means that if I even think about doing what I want, she’ll make my life a living hell. And let me tell you, when my wife says ‘living hell’ she’s not talking about Dante’s little cake walk through the seven levels of the fiery pit. She’s talking about providing me with my own personal apocalypse. Believe me, when it comes to pursuing a vengeful agenda, my wife puts Captain Ahab to shame.
In this case she was determined that I was going to have that colonoscopy, so she moved quickly to intercept me at the door. Putting her arm around me in a very loving way, she smiled at the doctor while she worked her hand under my coat and up to my neck. Putting me in her version of the Vulcan death grip, Rita paralyzed my body. When the doctor noticed that my expression suddenly went blank, he asked if there was something wrong. All I could do was move my head left to right as Rita manipulated the back of my neck. When he asked if he could schedule my procedure, I wanted to say hell no but I found myself nodding ‘yes.’ Then, when the doctor smiled and said goodbye, Rita squeezed the nerves in my neck so hard that my pained grimmest looked like I was smiling back.
By the time we left the doctor’s office, I was feeling dizzy. Leaning against Rita, we walked over to the discharge nurse who gave us the doctor’s instructions and a prescription for a product called ‘Koli-Kleen.’ The nurse said I was to drink two doses of Koli-kleen the night prior to the colonoscopy. What she didn’t tell us was that using that product was going to be, without doubt, the most gruesome part of the whole procedure.
I didn’t know it then but a week after my colonoscopy I did a google search and found that Koli-Kleen is sold in the United States as a prescription laxative, but it was originally developed during world war two by the Gestapo. The Germans called it Magen-buster and used it to get prisoners to voluntarily run into gas chambers they mislabeled “Latrines.” After the war, the Russians developed the formula into a WMD or Weapon of Mass Defecation. When the cold war ended, the KBG sold the formula to the CIA who used it in Guantanamo as an interrogation aid. It was reported that the CIA had a lot of success getting even the most resistant terrorist to literally spill their guts, but when the UN found it was being used on the prisoners, they banned its use as inhumane and a serious breach of the Geneva Convention.
Considering the nefarious history of this product, it was beyond my comprehension how any Pharmaceutical Company could get it approved by the FDA for sale to the American public. But then I saw the outrages price on the insurance company’s invoice and my question was answered.
I was totally ignorant of all that before the colonoscopy so I spent the week prior to the procedure nervously worrying about the ‘big fat hose’ and never gave a second thought to the hellish experience that awaited me on the night before.
When the time came for me to get ready, I read the instructions. Step one said that 12 hours prior to the colonoscopy I shouldn’t take any solid foods by mouth. That kind of confused me since taking solid foods by mouth was the only way I knew how to do that. Anyway, by supper time I was pretty hungry so the wife suggested I try some chicken broth. I love chicken soup but chicken broth was a big disappointment. It is nothing more than hot salty water with a little food coloring. The only chicken you’ll find in chicken broth is the word “chicken” printed on the box.
But I digress… the second step was to try and drink the first dose of Koli-Kleen. I say try because the stuff tastes like industrial grade toilet cleaner. The pharmacist recommended the lemon flavored product but I can tell you right now that the lemon flavoring in that noxious concoction does absolutely nothing to mask its totally disgusting taste. In fact, to this day I still can’t look at a lemon without getting the dry heaves.
The instructions warned that After drinking the first dose I might experience some gastric discomfort followed by a loose bowel movement. That was a gross understatement. What the instructions should have said was that after taking Koli-Kleen, my guts would heave, toss and turn like a small boat caught in a typhoon and that shortly thereafter, everything in my stomach would simultaneously attempt to abandon ship through the stern of my little brown boat.
Holy Crap, that stuff works fast. It may not be written on the box but I believe that one of Koli-Kleen’s chief ingredients is rocket fuel. I say that because when that stuff kicks in, your colon ignites and the full content of your alimentary canal is explosively jettisoned out of your ass with such force that, unless you hold on to the toilet seat, it’s possible that your body could be propelled into low earth orbit.
Needless to say, I spent the whole night sitting on the toilet and nervously waiting for the many intestinal eruptions that followed. Whenever I felt my gut begin to rumble I shut my eyes, held on to the toilet seat and did a short count-down as my rocket powered ass violently sprayed whatever was in my guts into the crapper.
This went on for hours until my intestines were totally empty and I had nothing more to give. By then it was time to drink the second round of Koli-Kleen, and to my absolute amazement, the process started all over again. I couldn’t believe it possible that there was anything left in me to expel, but apparently I was wrong.
My only explanation for this extraordinary phenomenon is that the second dose of Koli-Kleen must have the ability to tap into the spiritual realm, locate my long dead ancestors and channel the festering content of their ancient intestines through my flaming ass-hole and into the commode.
And that leads us to a subject that isn’t covered by the Koli-Kleen instructions. I’m talking about the smell. Oh my god the smell is incredible.
Let’s face it, you can’t flush out the rotting content of someone’s intestine without creating some serious atmospheric pollution. You’re probably going to think I’m exaggerating but things got so bad at my house, that I actually saw lines of staggering insects abandoning the residence. I also witness our house plants literally wither and die right before my eyes. Even the plastic plants keeled over. Rita could attested to all this but she barricaded herself in the guestroom, stuffed towels into the crack under the door, and refused to come out until it was time to go to the clinic.
Needless to say, by the end of the evening I was exhausted. All that running back and forth to the bathroom left my legs feeling like the rubbery limbs of a punch drunk boxer, and my asshole like the business end of a blow torch. That night, after pushing several ice cubes up my raw pucker, I finally passed out and slept like a very tired and dehydrated baby.
The next morning my wife got me up at what is known in military time as “oh five hundred hours.” The “oh” stands for; “Oh my God, I can’t believe it’s still dark.” Anyway, when we arrived at the clinic we thought, since they wanted us there at the crack of dawn, that they intended to begin the procedure right away. We were wrong. Instead they had us filling out forms for hours. The frustrating part is that they had me answering questions I’ve already answered hundreds of times before. What the hell do they do with all that information? Obviously they don’t keep it or they wouldn’t need to ask the same dam questions over and over again.
When I was finished with the questioner the nurse brought in the consent form and asked me to sign. After looking it over I told her that I couldn’t possible sign it. She asked me why and I told her that just over the signature line there was a statement that said that I understood and agreed to all the terms, conditions and provisions stated therein. The document was twelve pages long and written in a Pig-Latin dialect of legalize that was so convoluted and incomprehensible that even my lawyer’s lawyer couldn’t have understood it.
The nurse looked at me and smiled. Then she told me I could take all the time I needed to read the consent forms and I didn’t have to sign them until I fully understood what I was signing. However, she quickly added that if I didn’t have the form signed within the next five minutes she would have to reschedule my procedure.
That’s all she had to say. It took me about five seconds to sign the release and hand it to her. There was no way I was going to reschedule the colonoscopy knowing full well that I would have to go through the same gut-draining pre-procedure I went through the night before. I think the clinic counts on that reaction and that’s why they ask you to sign the consent form after you’ve had the Koli-Kleen experience.
A half hour after I finished the paper work, a very fruity looking male nurse named Hector, came for me. He gave my wife a wink, put his hand on my shoulder and walked around me without taking his hand off my body. Then he asked her a question in a very swishy Spanish accent. “Is this jew hombre?” My wife nodded while trying to contain a very smug smile. Hector returned her smile and said, “Ay que Lindo.” And they both began to giggle as Hector put his hand through my arm and walked me down the clinic’s main corridor. “Don jew warry lindo,” he said as he snuggled up to me. “I will take berry good car of jew.”
Looking over my shoulder I made eye contact with my wife and with a sorrowful and plaintiff gaze I pleaded for her help, but Rita just smiled. It seemed to me that she was enjoying my predicament because all she did was hold up a box of Kolie-Kleen and gave me a looked that seemed to said… ‘are you sure you want to reschedule the procedure?
It was a long and uncomfortable walk to the prep-room, and when we got there Hector released my arm and handed me a plastic bag. He instructed me to go into a little room that had a curtain instead of a door. He asked me to take off all my clothes and put them in the bag. Then he handed me one of those hospital gowns. You know… the kind that is designed to strip you of all your dignity and make you feel more exposed and venerable then you’ve ever felt before.
After putting on the gown I noticed that my ass was hanging out of the back. Try as I might, I couldn’t stretch the cloth to cover my exposed behind. That’s when I saw Hector peeking through the curtains. The pervert was staring at my ass but when he saw me looking at him he smiled and asked if I was ready. Then he pushed a wheel chair into the room and with a big grin he patted the bench and told me to put my cute little tushie into the seat.
There was no way I was going to turn my bare bottom towards that flaming fruitcake so I just stood there looking at him. That’s when Hector decided to come around from behind the chair to help me get into the seat. It was more likely that he wanted to help himself into my seat, so as he approached, I clutched the back of my hospital gown and slowly backed away. Hector kept advancing and I kept retreating so we went around and around that wheelchair until I finally saw an opportunity to safely sit down.
The fruity nurse laughed, his very girly laugh, and called me a crazy gringo as he pushed my wheelchair into another room. There he tied a rubber tourniquet around my arm and tried to put an I.V. needle into the back of my hand. It only took him five tries, and while I would have normally fainted after the second attempt, there was no way I was going to allow myself to pass out while I was alone in the room with him. This was especially true after he started talking about the procedure. With a faraway and dreamy look in his eyes, he described the length and girth of the hose the doctor would be using… and then he said, “El doc-tor wheel e’put it in jew ass nice and e’slow. He wheel go in deeper and deeper. Ay bandito, It’z so beautiful I juice want to e’cry every time I thing about it.”
If I had any doubt about Hector’s sexual orientation, after listening to him describe the procedure, all my doubts were gone. Hector was what I called a real Granola Bar; flaky, fruity and nuts.
“listen up, Hector.” I said with my most manly voice. “There is no way that I am going to have sex with you.”
“What?” Hector said with a genuine look of surprise. Giving me a very stern look and with a very indignant voice he continued. “Is dat what jew ting? Will jew are so rung. Having sex wit jew is da last ting on my mine. DA LAST TING! No senor. First jew will half to ax me to dinner, and den to a show and den after dat….”
“Read my lips Hector… No Way!!!”
Hector looked disappointed so he changed the subject and asked me if I had taken the Koli-Kleen as proscribed. My revolted expression and the cold shiver that ran up and down my spine leaving my puckered face quivering with a look of pure disgust, told him all he needed to know.
“O’ I si, no juan e’toll jew?” The blank expression on my face let him know I had no idea what the hell he was talking about, so he went on. “Jew can e’take un poco de Tequila before jew drink that sheet. Dat e’helps it e’go down mucho more ezy.”
As soon as I figured out what he was trying to say, a light bulb went on over my head. What a great idea. I had a fully stocked bar at home and would have gladly downed a bottle of good Iris whisky if I had known it was okay to drink before taking that Koli-Krap. But then I started to imagine myself drunk and stumbling around the house, squirting and dripping all over the rug and the furniture. There was no way Rita would have cleaned up after me, and knowing her, she probably would have had no alternative but to shot me, torch the house for the insurance money and move down to Florida.
As Hector wheeled me into the procedure room I looked around nervously and saw the doctor and anesthesiologist standing there, but no sign of the dreaded “Big fat hose.” No doubt they planed on bringing it in after I was asleep. That sounded like such a waste of Anastasia. Not because I was so brave that I didn’t need it, but because all they would have had to do was to show me that “big fat hose” and I would have passed out on my own.
Before putting me under, the doctor had me roll over on my side, pull up my knees and count backward from a hundred. As I started to count I heard someone, standing behind me and singing with a swishy Spanish accent. To my great horror I realized it was Hector. He was standing behind me while he sang ”I fee pretty” from ‘West Side Story.’ Oh my god, that raving queen was going to be in the room while I was laying there unconscious and my naked butt exposed.
With my last once of strength I looked up at the doctor and with pleading eyes begged him. “Please shot me now before I pass out from the anesthesia,” but no such luck. The room went dark and the next thing I knew I was waking up in the recovery room, still feeling high from the drugs they gave me.
The first thing I saw was my doctor’s smiling face. He looked down at me and asked how I felt. I told him I felt great except for a little discomfort around that place where the sun never shines. That reminded me of my last thoughts before going under so I reached up, grasped my doctor by the collar and pulling his face down close to mine. In an almost threatening tone I asked him, “Did you leave me alone with Hector at any time during the procedure?” The doctor looked puzzled but he assured me that he hadn’t. When I let him go the doctor said he had good news. My colon was fine and there was no evidence of any malignancy.
“Thanks doc,” I said. Then I asked him to do me a favor. “Please tell my wife…”
“I’ve already given her the good news.” The doctor interrupted.
“No, not that.” I said, as I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down close to my face again. “I want you to let her know that you’ve performed a very thorough inspection of my entire intestinal track and looked into every nook and cranny of my colon… Got that?” The doctor nodded that he did. “Okay, then I want you to tell her that you’ve found absolutely no evidence that I’ve ever had my head up my ass.”
THE END
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True Story

That One Day…(3)

Follow up to my first two and the last in this series. I would like some suggestions as I will be moving to fiction now and would like to write good stories

Fantasy

Tiffanys Torment

I glanced at my watch. I noticed it was almost 4:30 in the afternoon. The underground parking garage was filled with cars, but as of now no one else was around. Most folks were still working inside the building. That was just the way I wanted it. I was leaning against the trunk of my rented car, which had the hood up. There was nothing wrong with the vehicle. It was just a good way to stake out the place. Anyone who happened to notice me would think I was just some unfortunate guy having car trouble, perhaps waiting for a tow truck. Indeed, I was waiting for someone, but not for a tow truck – I was waiting for my target.
One of the nice things about human behavior is that people tend to follow routines. Tiffany’s routine was to leave work earlier than others. While most folks in her line of work put in the standard 8 to 5 office hours, it was not unusual for her to leave some 20 to 30 minutes early. I knew that because I had worked in the same building on a six month contract, which had ended the previous month. The consulting firm she worked for had hired me to install and upgrade some computer and networking equipment.
I took notice of my target the very first day I saw her. Even though, there were a good number of attractive females at the firm. Tiffany stood out from the crowd. She was a gorgeous woman – approximately 5’7 “ tall, slim build, captivating blue eyes, wavy blonde hair past the shoulder, a shapely ass, and fine looking pair of C breasts.
Just thinking about sucking and squeezing those tasty titties was making me-excited. I dismissed the though quickly. I needed to focus at the task at hand. I looked in the direction of the elevator door, which people took to access this level of the parking garage. If luck was with me she would be exiting those doors, alone, and walk over this way towards her car, which was parked just two spaces away from my own.
Just past four thirty, I heard the elevator doors hiss open and there she was – stunning as ever. She walked in my direction paying little attention to her surroundings. She seemed to be fiddling with her cell phone (another one of her habits). Whether she was driving, working out at the gym, or outside on a smoke break, she would always be talking on the phone or texting away some note. I knew that there was no cell signal in the enclosed garage. I figured she must have been reviewing old texts or checking the calendar.
She was impeccably dressed. She wore a white blouse, dark colored business skirt, an expensive pair of designer shoes and carried an equally expensive purse. Not that any of that mattered to me, I was not looking for money. As far as those fancy clothes were concerned, all would soon be torn off her body anyway. My only interest on this occasion was that beautiful blonde who had been the object of my desires since I first laid eyes on her. I scanned over the immediate area, no one else in sight – only my prized target and me.
I opened the trunk of the car and shifted things around in order to make some noise. I did not mind being noticed; in fact, I wanted her to notice me. I was dressed in new slacks, fine cotton shirt, and a sports coat. To her I would appear to be an office drone from somewhere in her building having car issues. I did not expect her to recognize me from my time working there since I changed my appearance somewhat by getting a haircut and wearing a pair non-prescription eye glasses. There was nothing menacing or threatening to create suspicion or fear.
As Tiffany approached her car, she put the phone away and started looking for her keys in her purse. I made my move.
“Excuse me – ma’am. Would you happen to have some jumper cables?” I said.
Judging by the expression on her face, she did not want to be bothered. Surely, she must have been eager to get in her car and get to the gym for her daily workout. Another fact, my observations had revealed.
It did not matter to me what her response would be, I just needed a reason to approach her. Once within reach, I dashed at her and pinned her against her car before she could even responds to my question. Whether it was the sudden surprise or plain shock, she did not scream. Within seconds I pierced her neck with a syringe needle containing a substance that would put her in a nice quiet slumber.
I placed my now sleeping beauty in the trunk of my car. As a precaution, I tied her hands behind her back and taped over her mouth. It was unlikely that the drug would wear off any time soon, but this was not the time to take chances. I looked around once more – no one around. The riskiest part was done. I got in the car and drove North West.
In these hard economic times many business across the country have fallen on hard times and closed. My city had its fair share of troubles. Many of the warehouses and factories on the North West industrial district now lay vacant. This was most unfortunate for working folks, but very fortunate for me and my task at hand.
I previously had worked different assignments in this area. I was familiar with the surroundings. I knew which of the abandoned buildings would be suitable to spend some quality time with my guest.
I parked my vehicle outside a small office building of an old paper plant that closed more than a year ago. I had previously scouted the location to be certain that it would be a perfectly isolated place.
I opened the trunk; my future fuck toy was still passed out. Her body beckoned me.
I carried her inside and shut the door behind us. I placed her on a futon mattress I had brought the night before along with some other items. Just seeing her lay there helpless and prime for fucking aroused me. I needed her awake though. I passed some smelling salts over her nose so that she would wake up. She opened her eyes, visibly disoriented and confused. She looked at me as she struggled to remember and make sense of the situation. Once she realized she was bound and that she had been abducted, she screamed!
“Wha- what is going on?” she asked. “Who are you!? “ What have you done!?
“Hello, Tiffany.” “Do not worry. I have not done anything to you – yet”.
“How do you know my name!? “
I ignored her question and walked over to a cabinet from which I pulled out a blade. The fun was about to begin.
“What are you going to do? No please – don’t kill me!”
“You don’t remember me, do you?” I asked.
“HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME!!!”
“Yell all you want baby, there is no one around. There is no one around to help you. You are mine.”
My lips curled into a wicked smile as I see her lying on the lumpy mattress, bound and vulnerable. Except for her shoes, which must have fallen somewhere along the way, she is -for the moment – still fully dressed. I sat by her side and caress her long blonde hair.
“Let me go! Who the fuck are you? “She continued to scream.
I turned her over in the mattress so that she is laying straight and face down. Slowly, I unzip her skirt. I wanted to hear and enjoy her reaction as she realized what was about to happen.
“STOP! . . . Don’t do this!”
She tried to kick but the way I had her pinned made it impossible for her to do so. I laughed at the efforts. I proceed to slide the blade under the fabric of the skirt and with one swift motion, cut and yanked it off her.
“NO!! Please Stop.” She managed to utter amidst her persistent crying and sobbing.
Next, just as swiftly, I cut the blouse off and rip it to shreds. I just love the sound of tearing clothes off a female body. I turned her over so that she is now facing up. Only her delicate silk panties and bra remain. Realizing that her screaming demands didn’t yield any results, she resorted to softer, kinder pleading. .
“Don’t hurt me. Please, don’t hurt me. Let me go. Keep my money, keep my car keys, just let me go, please.” There is, of course, no chance of that happening.
I took the blade and cut both the left and right bra straps above the shoulders. One more quick cut through the middle above the chest and viola – it’s gone. I marveled at the sight of her big beautiful tits. I ravished those tits with fervor. I sucked, squeezed and pinched to my heart’s content. Her soft, pink nipples responded nicely to the attention.
“I could spend all night playing with these!” I exclaimed, but I was eager to move on to other body parts.
After ripping her panties off, I proceeded to strip off my own clothes. A look of utter horror enveloped Tiffany’s face at the sight of my fully erect cock. She knew she was about to be raped and could not do a damn thing about it.
Her quiet pleading reverted back to hysterical screaming.
“NOOO!!! DON’T DO THIS TO ME NOOO!!!”
“Shut the fuck up bitch! You are going to take this; you are going to enjoy it.” Of course, it was my outmost desire that she would not.
Stop you beast! Why are you doing? Oh God, why is this happening? Stop!!”
With renewed determination attempts to kick me away, but fails. I grabbed and spread her legs and push my erect hot rod into her succulent fully shaved pussy.
“Aaahh, oh so nice, I must complement you on your immaculate grooming, baby. Did you do this just for me?” I taunted her. At this point any reply on her part is drowned out by incessant sobbing.
I pound her snatch mercilessly, quickly finding my rhythm. She was so tight, so delicious. Obviously her good exercise habits kept her body tight and prime for fucking.
Her futile protests and crying continued. However, I blocked them out entirely. This was pure ecstasy. I lifted her off the mattress and bent her over a nearby desk so that her perfectly firm ass is fully exposed. Now I had my choice of continuing to pound away at her pussy or penetrating that equally delicious ass. I went for the pussy for another series of lustful thrusts.
“Take this Bitch!!! Take it! I’ll bet this is your favorite position – isn’t it? – cheap whore. You like to take it like a dog!” She merely cries and sobs as she is powerless to stop the humiliation.
“Since you have been very well behaved,” I mocked. “I’m going to give you the chance to taste my cock. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for, I bet.“
I grabbed her by the hair and forced her to her knees and proceed to shove my cock between her delicious red lips. She gags and tries to back away – big mistake.
“I don’t take kindly to rejection, slut.” I slapped her across the face. “Suck it bitch, suck it good or I’ll cut your fucking throat. “
Knowing it was pointless to resist, she complied.
“What’s the matter slut! You are not sucking on a lollipop here, bitch. Suck it like you mean it!“ I shove my rod deeper and deeper into her mouth.
“This feels good. Open your eyes bitch, look at me. I want to see your eyes as you enjoy the taste of my cock. Aahhh, this is fantastic! You really do know how to do this well Tiffany. I bet you have had a lot experience. “
l slide my cock out and lift it in front of her. “Here! Give it a good lick. Lick the entire shaft. Make it real wet. Don’t forget the ball sack. Give it some good attention as well.” She hesitated for a second but knew than to resist. Her blue eyes seemed to plead for an end to her torment, but that was not to be.
“Stand up!” I yanked her to her feet and once again bend her over the desk so that her sweet tight ass is high up in the air.
“For your sake, I hope you lubed my dick well with your tongue.” It was time for some ass pounding. She probably did not expect it, because as soon as I pushed my member into her hole. . .
“AAARRGGG. NO!! STOP PLEASE STOP IT HURTS!!. YOU ARE HURTING ME!!!”
What’s the matter? You don’t go to the Greek isles with your boyfriends, bitch.”
It takes some effort but I eventually manage to ram my entire shaft into her really tight ass. Once I loosened it up a bit. I got into a nice rhythm of regular thrusts. It must have hurt her quite a bit to get to his point – oh, I really, really hoped it hurt. Just for fun, I slapped and pinched her firm butt cheeks a extra hard a few times.
“Damn, Tiff. You are really tight. Don’t tell me your boyfriends never fucked you in the ass before. Am I really the first guy? “
After several more minutes of bliss. I was about to cum. I did not want to cum in her chute, however. I wanted so see my hot jizz all over her face. I laid her on the mattress face up and straddled her chest so I could rub my cock between her large, soft breasts.
“I’m about to cum, bitch. No charge for the facial. Open your mouth — yess!”
Streams of cum burst out of my cock and poured all over the beauty’s chest, neck, cheeks, and mouth.
“Yes, Ahhh! Here, clean me up whore”.
I shoved my dick in her mouth and forced her to swallow my last few squirts of spunk. She coughed and tried to resist, but another hard slap to the face compelled her to reconsider. Once she had thoroughly cleaned my cock, I stood up.
As I got dressed, I could not help but admire the results of my work. Tiffany’s naked, cum covered body lay there motionless. Her spirit broken, I heard no more shouting and screaming there were just sobs and subdued whimpering.
“I have to step out for a couple of hours Tiffany. Tell you what; you stay right where you are. When I get back we’ll get to do this all over again. “
— The End —

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