FUCK DECENCY 213 Private Places (nnd)
ROLLER 666
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 213
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Private Places
Chapter Five
Emily glanced at me. She smiled. She walked behind the altar,
and returned with a small stool, covered in red velvet. She placed it
down between Jill's parted ankles. Jill touched herself still, examining
the puffy welt across her bottom with delicate fingers. Sam seemed to
guess what Emily wanted and reached down and unclasped my bra. My boobies
sprang out, loose at last, my nipples fiercely hard, despite my anxiety.
"Get up on the stool, get on top of my wife," Sam told me, his
voice trembling.
"Yes, it will be a double fuck, though I wish it for display
purposes only, Sam," Emily pronounced. "We want to enjoy your erection
all evening long. A few shafts, nothing more, in each of them. Up, girl!
Onto the altar!" I scurried to comply. I did not want to feel that
awful crop of hers zinging down on my bottom. I put my foot on the stool,
awkwardly kneed my way onto the counter. All the while I was aware of the
congregation behind me, watching, seeing me display my sex so rudely as I
scrambled to mount Jill.
"Oh, no," Jill protested. I settled on her, bearing her down. I
straddled her, opening myself up in a wider vee than even she was in. I
bent forward, pressed my breasts into her back. I felt so exposed! The
insides of my thighs pressed against the outside of hers. Sam stared,
delighted at seeing my heinie, so long denied to him, now a wide-open
target for his cock, not to mention my sex, which clenched in virgin
purity, atop Jill's tush.
"Here's one for the road," Emily said, drawing up her arm and
then delivering a sharp WHACK! to my bare buns.
"YEEEEOOOCH!" I yelped. I squirmed atop Jill as she rocked under
the blow which had struck my peach. My palms flew back and cupped my
childish bottom. I felt a bright heat across it, and knew at once I bore
a welt as long and perfect as Jill's.
"You're injuring my brides," Sam protested, though I detected a
humorous note in his voice.
"I'm breaking them in," Emily answered. "Please drop your pants.
I want to see your hind cheeks flex as you get yourself inside your new
wives."
"Can I keep my coat on?" Sam asked. I sensed a slight
nervousness in his voice now.
"No. Take it off. Everything but your bow tie. And your boots,
of course. Such fine riding boots, I understand, if you're wearing what I
ordered for you," Emily said. "But unzip me first. I do not wish to be
too prudish at your wedding, even if I am your minister." She turned to
him, presented her back. Sam paused, admired her, touched her shoulder,
even as Jill and I rubbed our heinies with frank movements of our hands.
I heard a rustling of clothing in the congregation. Glancing
over my shoulder, I saw cocks suddenly spring into view, thick and hard as
Sam's, all veiny and pulsing with manly desire. I wanted to spring up,
was afraid to. Sam embraced Emily from behind. They kissed. He massaged
her breasts and ground his pelvis into her bottom. His cock was naked
against her expensive dress, staining it, no doubt, with his early cum
drips.
A few minutes passed and all were naked behind us, or as naked as
they wished to be for fucking. Sam approached. I tensed. He patted my
bottom. He arched himself, stuck his prong to my butthole.
"Sam! Please!" I cried. I did not want it there.
"Shush, girl!" Emily answered me. She whacked the drum tight
skin of my bottom, making me hollar, even as Sam pushed his drippy
cockhead against my hole.
I felt a deep, strong pressure, I fought it. It pushed at my
little hole, indriving.
"Do let him take you," Jill whispered beneath me, being pressed
down as I tried to keep Sam from intruding into my butthole.
"No!" I gasped. His cum-smeared head pushed inside, his peehole
entering my a-hole. And then more, and yet more, filling my little
peephole anus with his ever-widening flange, his cockhead, surging,
indriving, and then I was popped!
"Aughghg!" I cried. Emily stuck her crop into my open mouth,
length-wise, and made me bite down upon it. I was bitted. Now I would be
saddled. Hopefully I would not be ridden.
Sam pushed harder. I felt myself giving way. In he went, then
more. I could not stop him!
"Nooo, you're going too far up!" I cried. Emily took both ends
of her crop in her hands and drove it deeper into my mouth, forcing my
head up. I felt like my whole body was being pushed backward by her even
as Sam fucked his way up my hole.
I heard laughter. Bridesmaids were helping Sam, putting vaseline
on his dick even as he poked it further and further into my near-virgin
hole. "More," they urged him. "She can take more." They wanted to see,
that's all. They wanted to see his big long cock go somehow all the way
up me, whatever the cost to me, whatever the price.
"Now in and out, a few easy strokes," Emily called from where she
stood at my head.
"He's not all the way up yet," one of the bridesmaids replied.
"He has three inches to go at least!"
"He is too long for her," Emily replied. "Sam, contain yourself.
I know she's quite tight, but have sympathy for her in your strokes, and
please don't shoot your sperm up her butthole. I don't want her enemized,
just fucked a little, for pleasure's sake, though I daresay you look like
you're suffering now."
"I am!" Sam grunted behind me. "She's wonderfully tight. I can
barely feel myself, she's bearing down so hard."
"My, what a filly you are," Emily cooed to me, even as she bore
me backward. "I should love to keep you for myself and train you. I have
dildos that would kill you, they are so big. But we could start small.
You would need to be stretched and widened if you weren't so young. It is
much too hard for him, I can see. As it is you must be permitted to grow
more, first. But Jill, how are you, sweetie?" Emily gazed down beneath
my own agonized face. "Do you need to be widened in back, made more
accessible for your husband's pleasure? We shall have to see, won't we?"
Manfully Sam rodded me, each indriving, hard-fought stroke
bringing a croak from him, as if he were sodomizing a newborn with his
pecker, or some female equally small in back. Tears welled in my eyes. I
could not stand it, yet I could not rise. The bridesmaids pressed down on
my hips, watching them squirm, laughing.
He relented at last. A goblet of wine was brought. His member
was carefully bathed in it by the bridesmaids. I lay sobbing atop Jill,
too violated to get up.
"Good girl, good girl," Emily told me. She bent and kissed my
face, stroked my hair.
"Which hole do you choose this time, sir?" I heard behind me.
Merrily the bridesmaids presented Sam with his options. They fingered my
nest, then Jill's, and her little hole too, lest he wish to torture
himself some more inside her own tight-clenching back tube.
"God, I just want to ram myself in and shoot!" Sam said. I
guessed he was fondling his wife's nest as she whimpered beneath me.
"Be a good boy and just give her a few little jabs," Emily told
Sam. "Or, rather, a few big jabs, long and deep, but control yourself so
you don't sperm her too quickly. I wish for her to be impregnated on the
bed."
"And we must have our reception first too," a bridesmaid piped
up. "I'm hungry! And they have yet to cut their cake." Her mate agreed
that we must all eat before Sam could cum.
"Ahhh," I heard from behind. I knew it could only mean Sam was
pushing into his wife, into her nest, his beloved's entrance to her
deep-hidden womb, where one day she would conceive children for him. And
then I remembered our pills. We'd been skipping them for three days now.
If he loosed his load, she would be impregnated now, right here on the
altar, before the reception even.
Jill jerked beneath me. "Do me, please, Sammy," she begged.
"Forget this bitch Emily!"
"What?!" Emily laughed. "Such insolence, and at such a pretty
wedding!" Indeed, the room was decorated with flowers. Their aroma was
sweet. A chandelier glowed down upon our naked bodies. The linen cloth
beneath us, draping the altar, smelled of starch, though it was soft to
the touch.
"Ah! Yes!" Jill cried. She did not feel so embarrassed now.
She let her pleasure show itself.
"Fuck her!" A bridesmaid urged. She slapped Sam's muffin-like
buns.
"OW!" Sam answered. The bridesmaid's companion inquired between
his asscheeks. "Hey! Don't sodomize me!" Sam called out.
"What's good for the goose is most definitely good for the
gander!" the bridesmaid chuckled. She found what she was looking for and
poked him with her fingernail.
"Ah, god!" Sam groaned. He shafted his wife quickly. Then he
withdrew, and batted away the bridesmaid's hand from his rear. "You need
to go back to school and learn 'Good Touch, Bad Touch,' he told her."
"It doesn't apply to girls, silly," the bridesmaid answered,
quite seriously.
"May I please get up now?" Jill begged Emily.
"Only if you promise to eat all your cake!" Emily laughed.
Sam lifted me bodily from his wife. I kicked my legs,
infant-like, as if I were just being delivered, and indeed I was, I
thought, feeling the hot stripes of Emily's crop on my bottom and the
newfound openness of my bunghole.
My heels were returned to the floor and I stood unsteadily. They
were spiked, platform heels, hardly a sure footing for a girl who'd just
been buttfucked! Sam held me lightly 'til I'd regained my balance.
Jill pushed herself up from the altar, the bridesmaids helping,
lifting her shoulders, straightening her back. They patted her bottom
affectionately. Jill moaned as their palms touched her single, blazing
welt. I had two. For extra naughtiness, I guess.
"Come, sweet brides," Emily beckoned. We dared not disobey her.
With a most embarrassing, awkward gait, clutching our wounded heinies, we
followed. Sam came along, his cock stiffly standing up as he walked
behind us. It was wet with his wife's juices. The bridesmaids escorted
him. They watched his schlong as it bobbed up and down with great
promise. His balls hung taut below, a caress away from spilling their
seed. They dared not touch it. Only their eyes grazed it, hungrily,
wishing they could be his wives too. Perhaps, before the night was out,
all of us would be husbands and wives, each to the other, I thought, and
the moistness of my bottomhole made me wonder if I could handle so many
suitors. I guessed not, hoped such a result would not come to pass. Mine
was the only 13-year-old hole here, but there were many others, within
fine female bottoms.
I glanced about. Everyone was nude now, proceeding with unlikely
grace and dignity after us, into the reception room. I spotted many
cocks, all of them hard. They were borne by young men who I'd have died
for hours earlier. But now, having barely managed Sam's penis, how could
I possibly entertain more? I'd eat all my cake, and theirs too, if it
would spare me any more cocks up my ass! As I walked I felt their eyes on
my bottom, once I'd turned away. They were discreet at least, in their
looking. 'But please, please, don't put those enormous cocks of yours
into my little ass,' I begged the men behind me, whispering to myself. I
would get down on my knees and kiss their feet if I had to. My bottom was
too small, too childish still, I knew, just feeling its contours. I let
my hands roam over it a little, examining it. I could feel it wiggling,
knew what an invitation it must be offering to the men behind me. I
strove to keep it as still as possible as I walked. I was hopeless. It
stung too much from the crop, and from being drilled by Sam's cock. If
only I had my one-piece. I'd shimmy into that in a minute! My mom had
been right. I was too young!
A room opened before me. It took my breath away as I found
myself confronted by it. White ribbons hung from the ceiling. Amidst a
spread of food, just being laid out by maids, stood a triple-layered
wedding cake, with a little statue atop it.
I walked closer to the cake. The maids flitted about, dressed
only in heels and bikini panties, swimsuit panties, tied neatly with
drawstring bows.
"The maids are only here for the reception, and are not available
sexually, without their permission," Emily announced to us. "Men, I
expect you to admire them from a distance. We girls don't need any more
competition than we already have!" There was laughter. The maids
blushed, kept their eyes lowered, so as not to directly observe our
nudity.
I went up to the cake and stared at it. It was beautiful! Thick
icing lathered its sides, with pink candy flowers embedded in it. But the
most surprising thing was the statue on top. A little groom, with two
brides. Sam came up behind me and cupped my bottom. His thumbs grazed my
welt.
"Sam, don't!" I said, and turned slightly, to brush him away.
"It's your reception," he answered. He lifted my hand and
slipped a wedding band onto my third finger before I could even realize
what he was doing. When I did, I spun about and embraced him.
"Oh, Sam!" I cried. We kissed, and I felt Jill come up beside us
and share our kiss. We each probed each other's mouths, standing there,
kissing slowly and lightly at first, just on the lips, then much more
deeply. Our hands traveled freely over each other's bodies, touching
whatever we wished, exploring. Sam was careful not to touch the welts on
my bottom, or on Jill's.
We parted at last. I found the crowd was gathered all around us.
They clapped. Emily beamed at us, then glanced down to make sure Sam
hadn't become too excited and lost himself. He hadn't.
"Now for a quick bite to eat!" Jill said. "Then it's off to bed
for you three." Taking Sam carefully by his cock, she led him over to the
seat of honor. Jill and I walked in lock-step with him, beaming up at
him, our boobies bobbing nakedly as we walked, our asses wiggling easily
now, carefree. We were uptight no longer.
I saw there was only one chair at the head of the table. I
wondered a moment where Jill and I would sit, was about to break away to
find a chair of my own when Emily told me to sit on Sam's knee. Of
course. Sam sat down, his cock sticking up with delightful rudeness
between his legs. Then Jill sat on his one leg, and I on the other.
The guests took their seats. The maids cut a big slice of cake
for Sam. They brought it too him, waggling their hips too salaciously, I
thought, being his jealous new bride. They laid the cake in front of him.
Sam picked it up, whole. He made me take a bite of it. Then Jill,
finally himself. We chewed, looking at each other. Jill wiped a crumb
from my lips. I brushed a crumb from the corner of Sam's mouth. I saw a
crumb on Jill's breast and brushed it away. She giggled despite her
mouthful of cake.
Ash Dust Moon.
She reached out and touched me through a void,
and brought me over to the funeral.
I was soon standing there as the preacher said the words.
For his good baptist soul.
He had been warm then his heart burst and he turned very cold.
Ashes to dust,
recycled to lung.
Spirits inside the air,
the void is there.
Lady Katherine was pleading to the underground,
that when he got there he wouldn't be found.
I was soon standing looking at the pictures at some exhibition.
They had been his though taken with a camera.
Naturally formed nuggets of art.
I could smell the summer on the ground steaming from the grass.
Acidity to morbidity,
profound profundity.
Smartest design in modern,
the void is the god.
My head fell suddenly against the ground,
the glass on the gates rattled somewhat from this.
I saw a man up on the roof painting a fixture up there,
and the wind rooster turned.
On the radio was country and western playing in the woodshop.
I was in a truck across the parking lot watching and hearing this.
What I can't do,
is what I don't want to do.
Look into her chemicals,
look into those blues of yours.
Standing down there by the front door,
I really wasn't too close or at least enough to hear her.
I recognized this street despite all the bulldozing.
There's something wrong, there's something new here in this city.
The sadness and worry in Katherine's eyes,
terror tactics in our hearts and wind in our souls.
(The above poem has been excerpted from Will Dockery's new zine, April
Bullets, which is a 32 page minicomic and is available for $1.00 from Will
Dockery, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868, U.S.A.)
AND IN THE END...
GOVERNMENT BACKFIRES AGAIN
"Three-Strikes Law -- Crime rates have declined more in states without the
law than in those with it."
- Time, March 17, 1997, pg. 13.
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copyright 1997 by Will Dockery.
-END OF 213 EMISSION
Will Dockery
https://groups.google.com/d/msg/alt.ezines/TxRAq60fBPg/fWsKBAvijUYJ
On Friday, March 14, 1997 at 4:00:00 AM UTC-4, ROLLER 666 wrote:
> Andrew Roller Presents
<snipped for brevity>
> Ash Dust Moon is
> copyright 1997 by Will Dockery.
> -END OF 213 EMISSION
"Art is a selective recreation of reality according to an artist's metaphysical value judgments" -Ayn Rand
Check out "Gone Too Far / Will Dockery & The Shadowville All-Stars - http://www.reverbnation.com/open_graph/song/11596860
-- drinking coffee with Jack Snipe and Brian Mallard at Edgewood Park.
Will Dockery
https://groups.google.com/d/msg/alt.ezines/TxRAq60fBPg/fWsKBAvijUYJ
>
> GOVERNMENT BACKFIRES AGAIN
>
> "Three-Strikes Law -- Crime rates have declined more in states without the
> law than in those with it."
>
> - Time, March 17, 1997, pg. 13.
>
Will Dockery
> Ash Dust Moon is
> copyright 1997 by Will Dockery.
> -END OF 213 EMISSION
--
"Art is a selective recreation of reality according to an artist's
metaphysical value judgments" -Ayn Rand
Check out "Gone Too Far / Will Dockery & The Shadowville All-Stars
-- drinking coffee with Jack Snipe and Brian Mallard at Edgewood Park.
Will Dockery
https://groups.google.com/d/msg/alt.ezines/TxRAq60fBPg/fWsKBAvijUYJ