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Alix said she and Chris would be by around 7, and at exactly 7, my phone vibrated. I buzzed the front door and stepped outside my apartment door to wave them in.
She came up the stairs, stepping carefully in her heels, and handed me a grocery bag as she kissed my cheek. “This is Chris,” she said. It took me a minute – when we’d spoken earlier, I thought she was bringing a girlfriend.
When he stepped into the apartment ahead of us, I pointed and mouthed “your boyfriend?” She shook her head and said out loud “No, Chris is my buddy from home. My boyfriend is out with his friends tonight.” Chris laughed “I managed to spring her loose tonight. We’re going to get crazy! I haven’t seen Alix in almost three years.”
They were in high spirits and full of energy. We moved to the kitchen and I unpacked the bag – a combination of veggies, hummus, what looked like baking materials, and a butane torch. I fired up the torch and looked at Alix. “Creme brule” she said.
“I wanted real downtown pizza” said Chris.
“No pizza for me, when I’m headed for Cancun in 10 days.” Alix turned around and acted for a moment like she was going to flip up her skirt. It took me by surprise. What a sweet little rear end.
“You can give me a piece of that,” laughed Chris.
“No I can’t.” She ran her hands over her skirt, smoothing it down.
I’d never made creme brule before, but it turned out well. Alix had a thousand things to say. I’m not even sure if she ate. “First ever – carrots, beer and creme brule,” I said as we cleared the dessert from the table.
“Alright – then no beer for you,” she teased.
“Well I’m empty – Chris help me out.” He went to the fridge, but she blocked him on the way back, taking the beer from his hand.
“You’ve gotta win it the old fashioned way,” she said, taking a pack of red solo cups from the bag, and lining them up across the far end of my small table.
I’ve always been bad at beer pong. The balls never bounce my way. Alix missed too. Chris hit one and handed the cup to Alix. “Too full” she said, taking a sip.
It was two more rounds before I finally got a ball in the cup. “I’ll save you since you’re still working on the first one,” I said, grabbing a cup from the table and passing it to Chris. He gave it the old college treatment, downing the cup, but shook his head after. “I’m going to spread these out a little more.” He opened two of the bottles and poured them across a row of cups.
Chris took his position at the table, hit his pong shot again, and pointed to Alix. “You drink it,” she said, swirling a stacked cup in her hand.
“You don’t have to drink it if I get another prize,” he said, reaching for the hem of her short skirt. She laughed and slapped his hand.
“I’ll take my shoes off.” She grabbed my arm to steady herself and undid her heels. “Wow – I’m short now,” she stood close and used her hand to measure her new height against me.
I felt her breasts tough antalya escort my chest, and my heart skipped a beat. She’s so soft. Smells so good. I wonder if the boyfriend thing is off.
Chris was clearly after her, too, and he saw that the game was going in a direction that might mean she was going to lose more clothes. But on his next shot, she stood behind him and held his shoulders. “I’m allowed to distract you, to keep you from making it. This is good defense.” It was. He missed his shot.
I got a round undefended, and sunk another one. I pointed to Alix. This time, she drank one of the smaller cups. “Nope,” said Chris. “You have to go in order. Full cups first. Next time, you lose your shirt.”
“Well then I get to phone a friend to play D for me,” she said. As Chris stepped up to pong table, she pushed me up against him. I tentatively held his shoulders and looked at her. “Yeah, you gotta distract him and protect my honor,” she laughed.
But my defensive skills fell short. He sunk another one and pointed to her blouse. “You’re fucking kidding me,” she said. But she was a good sport. She pulled her shirt over her head and smiled at us. Alix has beautiful big boobs. She was wearing black lace, peekaboo style. My God.
It seemed like staring would ruin the mood, but I couldn’t stop trying to steal looks at her. Both Chris and I completely lost our pong game. She started hitting.
We were down to our briefs before we got any farther with her. I was glad I had grabbed a new pair of Calvin Klein briefs – the kind you see on billboards. You never know when you’ll find yourself in your underwear. And she was making it really fucked up. Every time Chris or I went up, she made the other guy stand behind and play defense. At one point, I was up against the table bouncing the ball, and this other dude is pressed up against my ass. Both of us just in underwear. How does this happen? And when I lean forward against the table, I feel it pressing under my balls, and I’m getting boned up.
And then Chris hit another one and pointed at her skirt. But at the same time, her phone buzzed. She picked it up. “Yeah, having a great time,” she put one arm across in front of her bra, suddenly self-conscious. “Hanging out with the guys.” She nodded a few times, and then said “OK, twenty minutes.”
Chris and I tried our best. “Sorry guys,” she said, and then turned, flipped up her skirt in back and flashed us her incredible ass for a split-second. Before I knew it, she was out of the room, blouse back on and strapping her shoes on.
I saw her out the door, realizing that Chris was still in the kitchen.
He was standing at the pong table in his briefs, bouncing a ball and looking at the cups. “We have any beer left, or is it still all in those cups,” I asked.
He bounced a ball into a cup. “There you go, bitch,” he laughed.
I laughed and stepped back up to the table. I took a sip from the cup, and then bounced kemer escort the pong ball on the table a few times. I guess out of habit, Chris stepped behind me and put his hands on my shoulders.
I shifted my weight a little and Chris brushed against me. His dick was hard, and he lightly pressed it against my Calvins. I was kind of caught. Not sure how I got into this. Is Alix going to pop back in? Did they set this up? My mouth was dry, but I could feel my dick getting longer, and rubbing up against my underwear. Best bet was not to acknowledge that he was pressing up against me. By the time I bounced the ball, I was getting a little light headed. My shot was so bad, I completely missed the table.
“Enough of this slop,” said Chris. “If you’re going to play like that, you can sit in the fucking penalty box.” He pointed to the corner of the table, which was against the wall.
“I’m taking my beer,” I said, sliding down against the wall, until I sat, my back propped up against the table leg and the wall.
“Should give you a good seat while I dominate this game,” said Chris, grabbing the ball. When he stepped to the table, he stood right in front of me. He looked at the cups and bounced the ball.
I was now at about eye level with his briefs. With him that close, I could see the outline of a dick that looked rock hard, with a little wet spot at the tip. He bounced the ball a few times, then I could hear it hit liquid.
“Alright – take your drink,” he said. I took a cup and sipped, stepping back to the table and bouncing the ball. I felt his hands on my shoulders, but took my time as I lined up the shot. His hands moved to my waist and he moved me back and forth a little bit, suggesting that he was trying to throw off my shot.
And then I felt him through my briefs. The thick tip of his dick hit between my ass cheeks and then slid up, so that his shaft lay up against the middle of my ass. I held still, feeling my dick grow. The spot where it pressed against the table was electric, and I impulsively started a slow thrust against the table. Chris tightened his hands against my waist, as he felt my ass move against him. Without thinking, I let the ball go and it bounced off the table.
Chris stood back and said “penalty box.” I sat against the table again. “You fucking suck at this,” he said. “You fucking suck.” He took another step toward me, and pulled down the front of his briefs. His dick was rigid and thick, pointing straight at my mouth.
“You screwed me up,” I said. “You can’t take that out on me.”
He pressed forward. I felt the meaty head of his dick against my lips. He left it there for a moment and then stepped back. “That’s what you’re going to get if you miss again.” My lips were wet and salty where he had pressed against me.
He shot and missed, and I stood up and took my place at the table. His cock was still sticking straight out, with his balls propped up by konyaaltı escort his underwear. He put his hands on my shoulders, then on my waist. And as I lined up my shot, he slid his hard dick up against my ass a couple times. I was still stiff, my underwear getting wet. I started to grind against the table. I could feel him pull down the waist of my briefs and rub the head of his naked dick against the bare top of my ass. I shot the ball. Another miss.
This time, I knew I was in for the penalty box. I sat down without him telling me.
He moved in front of me. For a moment, I was eye to eye with the swollen head of his dick. I could see the way the mushroom cap of that huge thing came together at the bottom, and the ridge at the top. His rod curved and pointed up at me.
He put the wet tip against my lips again, and this time kept them there.
“Hmm mmm,” I said, keeping my lips together while his dick poked at me. I tried to look at him in a way that said “no fucking way.”
“You fucking missed, you little bitch,” he said putting his hand at the base of my skull.
“Not going to do it,” was what I planned to say. But when I parted my lips, I felt him push in. The underside of his dick slid along my tongue, and I felt my upper lip slide over the top of the head. I tasted salt.
Now he wasn’t saying anything. His mouth was a little open and he looked down at my face.
He pushed his dick forward, and I felt the shaft slide in between my lips and push toward my throat. It was so fucked up and freaky to have a dick in my mouth. I can’t imagine what would happen if Alix walked back in and saw me kneeling in front of Chris, sucking his huge dick like a cheerleader. I ran my tongue along the bottom of his dick and felt him shudder a little bit.
I did it again. I pulled back so that only the tip was in my mouth, and flicked my tongue all around it. Not sure why it seemed so natural. He put his hand on his stomach and looked at me, then pushed forward again. I ran my tongue along the pipe along the bottom of his dick, then slid his cock in and out a few times.
His legs went rigid. “Fuck,” he said, and pumped it into my mouth a couple times. I reached up and grabbed his balls between his legs and then slid it deep into my mouth. He shook for a second.
I felt his balls tighten up and then his dick seemed to bulk up. Hot liquid squirted into my mouth, salty and thick. While I tried to figure out what to do with all of it, it spurted again, and then again. My mouth was filled with musky, thick, salty juice.
I licked the tip, and he pulled back, sensitive.
“Fuck,” he said, as he watched me pull my underwear down and lean up against the table. I stroked my dick a few times, and spurted cum all over the pong table.
“Fuck,” he said again, as he searched for his pants.
I fell asleep right away after he’d left, and woke in the morning, confused. I thought of Alix’s sweet little ass and her incredible tits. And then I thought about that big hard dick. I licked my lips and thought I tasted cum. I could feel my dick grow against my underwear in bed.
My phone buzzed. “You fucking suck at pong,” said the text. “Now you’re probably going to want a rematch.”
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