PART 05: GOLDIE, THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN PENIS
(All sex is consensual and all participants are over the age of 18. Goldie's comments are often in dialect. Goldie is incarcerated awaiting possible execution in twenty-four hours. He takes this last opportunity to explain what happened on the day before his arrest.)
PART 5: GOLDIE: THE FOURSOME ORGY, CONFESSION, REDEMPTION?
Dear readers, time marches on, most likely on flat feet. I was hoping my lawyer could get an appeal going, but that looks like a dead-end, as dead as my end is going to be without an appeal.
I was looking at my golden cock last night and stupidly I spoke to it as if it were a separate entity that could hear and think.
I said,
"Cock, my dear golden cock, it looks like time has just about run out for us. I won't be finding you any more pussy because I will be dead, and you will be too. To think I've done something wrong that has caused your demise makes tears come to my eyes. Of course, I might stroke ya a bit before tomorrow morning, but unless the Governor pardons us, and there is a slim chance of that happening, we are finished; no more wanking, jerking, cuming, and most of all, none of that most delectable treat of all things on earth,—- puss... puss.... pussy."
I was so overcome with emotion I'd stuttered.
Tomorrow at 2 pm, after my last meal, then they will strap me down and inject me. Twenty minutes later, it will all be over. In those moments before I die, I'm told my golden penis will fill with blood and stand erect for the last time, while my mind will no longer be able to function, and life as I know it will be no more.
I keep trying to figure out why I am here. If you read part one, you know Mr. Bentley asked me to stand in for him at his wife's birthday fucking. I did my best. She certainly was satisfied and gave me a $20 tip. A few days later, Mr. Bentley showed up at my house and asked me to drive him in his old Ford pickup truck out to the highway, drop him at the truck stop, then drive the car back to his home and park it.
I didn't ask a lot of questions. I figured his brother, a long-distance trucker, was meeting him. I did what I was told. Mr. Bentley tipped me $10, and I headed out on the back road to drop off the truck at his house, thinking maybe I'd find Mrs. Bentley in need of some refreshment. Maybe her vagina was in need of cock?
What the hell went wrong? A lot. The old truck stopped of its own accord out near that Honky Tonk on Burly Way. I know Mr. Bentley liked to go out there and drink and listen to country music. What I didn't know was that not only was there beer and country music but the waitresses were selling cunt. After hours, the Honky Tonk was a whorehouse.
Since the truck was out of gas or something, I went to the Honky Tonk's front door to use their phone to call Jake Hasco, our repairman. I knocked but when no one opened the front door so I went 'round back and there I saw three women, in their birthday suits. They was all nude except they were all wearing sunglasses. Oh yeah, one was a Russian girl who had some sort of bathing suit bottom that made her ass cheeks a real pleasure to look at, but she was hiding her pussy.
There they was, a'sunbathing on old red-striped canvas chairs. There was also one of those kiddy pools and a hose and when they got too hot they'd stand in the pool and one gal would hose the other one down.
I recognized Pamela, one of the waitresses I'd seen before, but the two other gals were new to me. They greeted me as if they were all dressed, real natural like, and Pam introduced the fat one as her sister and the other gal, Olga, was a Russian girl, a real looker with high cheekbones and them big eyes like the photo models have, and two really beautiful big erect tits, so erect I couldn't figure out how they stood up. She must be doing them chest exercises I read about in one of them lady's magazines my Mom would buy down at the general store.
Pam said,
"Well Goldie, we is all a' sit-in here necked as blue jays, why don't you take a load off, drop your drawers and keep us company. "
"I'd sure like that, but I gotta take Mr. Bentley's truck back to his place. I'm think'n now it done run out a' gas."
"Why don't you just wait a bit, honey child, the postman will be by soon and he'll give ya a lift down to the A&M store where they got a gas pump. Meanwhile, have a seat partner."
So I stripped off my work duds and stretched out naked on the hammock which was tied off one of the mobile homes and then to a tree. The sun was warm but a cool breeze was coming from the west.
"Pamela dozed off, while the Russian gal, Olga, got up and took a cold beer out of the ice chest and offered it to me. My eyes were closed when she laid it in my lap and just about froze my dick."
Pam's sister, who went by the name of Brenda, started a'laugh'in and her fat belly just jiggled.
"She gotcha that time, Goldie, just about iced yo' nuts off."
The gals had a good laugh. I smiled and started drinking the bottle of Lone Star beer.
It was a hot day but the puffy clouds would come and go, and the sun would come streaming through like someone turning on klieg lights. Fortunately, there was a bit of shade from the old oak tree. After I drank up the beer, I felt relaxed, and I started to fall asleep.
I was dreaming about that Persian girl, Nara, and how good a cock sucker she was. Then I realized I wasn't dreaming. That Ruskie girl, Olga, was leaning over me with those perky tits of hers grazing my chest as she swirled her tongue around my cock's head and then she dove down to give my balls a good lick.
Brenda was watching and commented,
"Olga, you got that down right, sweetie, most gals stop short at the dick, ya gotta' not forget them balls, and Mr. Goldie, you got two of the biggest balls I've seen outside of Horse Johnson and that fucker is herniated."
"Yeah," joined in Pam, who had woken up,
"But old Horse can still bust a nut when he's sober."
"Yep," said Brenda, "He's old but not the worse fuck in the county."
Their conversation kept on, Olga, who was busy blow'n me, stopped abruptly.
"You're getting ready to shoot your load, Golden Penis Guy, aren't you.
"How d'ya know?" I answered.