ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Thanks to mah sistas at the EoP; this is for the recycling project. Enormous thanks to author Bob Vickery, whose work illustrated to me how to write first-person slash. This is for Peja's "first time; how do they get together" challenge.
*
I pour salt on our latest conquest's mortal remains then reach for the gasoline.
"Here it comes," I call out to Sam, my voice easily carrying in the still air to reach him at his lookout position. I light a twist of paper and toss it on, watching the flames leap into action. I keep my eyes fixed on the nasty creature's final demise while I listen for Sam's signal that it's working.
"There it goes," little brother shouts. That's our cue to hook back up and motor.
I turn in the semi-darkness and head toward the sound of his voice. The illumination from the flames gives me a slight edge over Mr. College; he curses as he trips over something in his path. I have just enough time to smirk ---
"Yyyyeeeeeeeeee!"
The high-pitched squeal is accompanied by a cold gust of wind and a rank, sickly-sweet odor. I dodge and roll as something takes a swipe at me. I pop quickly to my feet, facing where I expect the whatever-the-hell-it-is to be.
"Dean! Dean!" My brother's voice; getting closer. Still sounds like he is tripping over every root and gopher hole as he hurries in my direction, though.
I find myself facing a -- I don't know what. It is pale and looks vaguely female, and it seems to be getting sucked toward the bonfire. It also seems to be dissolving into goo or vapor or something.
"This is all your fault!" it shrills at me, pointing with a drippy, twig-like finger as it keeps sliding along the ground.
"Dean!" Definitely much closer. "What the hell?" That's my bro; always with the smart questions. snort Apparently he's close enough now to see this thing.
"You will never again find satisfaction!" it curses me. The rapidly dissolving apparition is dragged into the bonfire by the invisible force. "And you'll ne--"
The unnatural thing goes up in a *poof* of stinky smoke before it can complete its curse.
"What was that thing?" Sam asks, skidding to a halt beside me.
"I think it was that thing's girlfriend," I answer, jerking my chin toward the fire. "Come on; let's get out of here."
~o~0~o~
I'm gliding through the nightclub, headed toward the dance floor and checking out the honeys. Damn! There are some fine lookin' ladies in here tonight! Everywhere I look: short skirts showing off long, smooth, shapely legs, just aching to wrap themselves around me; tiny little tops with jiggling cleavage spilling out; pumping, gyrating, swaying, grinding feminine bodies shifting to the heavy beat of the loud-loud music. All spread out like a banquet before me; all's I've gotta do is pick one.
I join in the party on the dance floor, inserting myself smoothly between a blonde and a brunette. They sandwich me obligingly and we all three start to grind and hump together to the rhythm. Heaven! The brunette's big rack presses into my back, her hands clutching my hips; my hard cock pressing into the seam of the blonde's cushiony ass as I hold her around the waist with one arm while my free hand slides down the front of her thigh.
I catch a glimpse of someone out of the corner of my eye, someone at the edge of the dance floor. I turn my head for a better look; the brunette starts nibbling on my ear --very distracting! It wrings a small moan out of me and blurs my focus for a second. I'm getting distracted; torn between trying to see who grabbed my attention from the dim sidelines and paying the proper respect to the warm rush coursing through my body as the blonde places her hand over mine and slides it up to cup her tit.
Who *is* that? The chick on the sidelines isn't dancing or swaying to the beat, she's just standing there, staring right at me. She looks out of place, somehow. Big, frizzy, bottle-blonde hair, stripper's oversized breast implants, tacky, kinda trashy dress. Doesn't look like she's having a good time.
I'm suddenly aware of how much my dick hurts. And not in a good way. The pressure feels nearly unbearable, and I think it's increasing! What the hell? Panic, sharp and spiky, flares within me and I hitch a painful breath.
The weirdo on the sidelines points at me and... "Yyyyeeeeeeeeee!"
I jerk awake, bolting upright in my bed. The scratchy motel sheet slides down my sweat-soaked chest to puddle around my waist. Oh, god; a dream. It was a dream.
Sam stirs in his bed and mumbles groggily at me. "D'n, y'kay?"
Guess I must've made some kind of noise.
"I'm fine," I tell him quietly. "Just a dream."
He mumbles and turns over.
I'm having trouble getting my breathing back under control. My mouth is dry and my skin is clammy. I need some water. When I push the covers away and swing my jittery legs over the side, I notice that my dick is hard. Unpleasantly hard. My balls feel swollen to twice their normal size and I practically have to waddle to the bathroom for my drink.
I use the cup setting by the sink to get a drink from the tap. As I gulp down the contents, I spy my reflection in the mirror. That can't be right. I peel my sleep-shorts and Jockeys down. My cock looks huge. Angry red...veins standing out more prominently than seems natural...so rigid that it appears glued to my abdomen. And it *hurts*. Waaayyy too much pressure. I better do something about that.
A shower ought to cover up any sounds that might disturb Sam, and it'll facilitate clean-up, so I turn on the water, strip and hop in.
As the warm water splashes across me, I run a palm over my swollen flesh then pump vigorously. I can feel my aching balls tightening, the pressure building. Breathing in gasping pants, the sound of my pounding heart filling my ears, I focus entirely on the powerful sensations gaining force in my throbbing member and need-heavy balls. Just another few seconds... So ready... Just a few seconds more...
I brace my palm against the cool, tiled wall as my right hand moves faster and faster. My balls retract in preparation for the orgasm rapidly crashing upon me. I rise up on my toes as my hand becomes a blur of motion on my cock and every muscle in my body strains towards that one goal: the final spurting release I'm so desperate for. My blood hums through my veins; my whole body tightens and surges. My hips begin to pump. God! My cock is so hard I could practically drill holes in steel with it.
I'm suspended on the verge of ecstasy for an eternity; it's going to be one hellacious orgasm. I lean against the slick wall for support and my free hand moves to my aching testicles so I can fondle them gently, nursing my climax along. The combination of lightning-quick tugs on my cock and the strong, gentle manipulation of my balls is about to send me over the edge...
...and nothing happens. No orgasm, no release, just more and more pressure, with no end in sight. Aw, man; this is so wrong!
