Four Hours

It's been far too long since I uploaded my first story ( An Interesting Day") to Literotica. This morning I opened the folder on my pc with over a dozen partial stories, to work on the second chapter of that first story and got side-tracked when I saw the title 'Four Hours' in the list of partially written stories, and could not recall what it was about. I opened it and began reading and remembered the premise of the tale.

This story has been sitting untouched on my hard drive for a year now. Last year, I banged out a thousand words one evening after trashing an email ad for male performance enhancers. That ad provided the inspiration for this story.

When I began reading the long forgotten story, I noticed a typo in the first paragraph which I corrected; I had intended to only read, not edit, but was really bothered by the error. That typo correction led to further reading, editing and additional paragraphs. The style of writing of the story was a bit odd for me - verbose and lengthy sentences and paragraphs. I wondered what my state of mind was last January when I wrote those words. I've tried to continue in the same style in this session of writing.

I anticipate this story (my second submission to Literotica) will continue to reveal itself, with future segments being uploaded as they are given to me by whatever muse it is that comes up with these ideas and words. This opening chapter of the story only hints at the group activities to come in following installments.

This story takes place in one of those alternate universes where STD, and unwanted pregnancies, are unknown. Condoms are used in some situations to lend variety to sex acts. All characters engaged in sexual activities in this story are fictional, and are over twenty years of age.

I have ignored the advice of a number of more experienced writers and have not had other eyes review and suggest edits and corrections to this story - therefore all errors in spelling, grammar, and story flow are my own damn fault.

As always, comments and suggestions are welcome - and remember that we who write these stories really appreciate you readers, especially when you take the time to hit one of those star buttons, or leave a comment. I'm new at this writing thing, so be kind!

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<strong>Four Hours, part 1 - Four Minutes Before Midnight</strong>

<strong>11:55 PM Thursday Night </strong>

The bedroom door opened, then a moment later closed, and soft footfalls were heard coming closer to, then stopping by the bed before my brain registered that something had happened. I heard a soft click, and a light in the ceiling fan came on as the blades started slowly turning. The light is not too bright but is enough to cast a soft warm light within the room, augmenting the small green-scarf-draped table lamp on the nightstand next to the bed, allowing me to better see the person on the bed with me, and the people who have just entered.

Several excuses floated up through the mental fog to help me rationalize why it had taken me almost ten seconds to look over in that direction; one, I was not expecting anyone to come into the room, which in a way was weird since I had no idea whose room we were in; two, I was busy enjoying and maintaining my rhythm of long slow strokes; and three, I was quite stoned, high, mellow, and drunk on alcohol, chemicals, weed, and sex.

As I looked over my shoulder towards the sound of the door and the three naked people approaching the bed in the large but dimly lit room, I happened to notice - thru a fog of sexual bliss enhanced by too much alcohol and more than a few tokes on the bongs and blunts being passed around earlier in the afternoon and evening - the clock on top of the chest of drawers is blinking the little colon, then switching the last digit from five to six - it is 11:56 PM.

That glimpse of the blinking colon of the clock has wormed it's way into my low level of consciousness enough to cause me to wonder if in four minutes, the warning about an erection lasting more than four hours is going to become a factor in whatever my next poor decision will be in a day filled with poor decision making. But then, in four minutes it will be a new day in which to make better poor decisions. The poor decisions made earlier today and this evening have led me to the very pleasurable situation I find myself in right now, so maybe those decisions were not all bad.

Obviously whatever mental processes there are that should have been guiding my actions into more mainstream socially acceptable paths today were getting baked long before I sat down next to Sylvia at the local dive bar. I had gone there to burden Bill, the bartender, with my tale of woe after telling my boss to take his job and shove it where the sun don't shine. My mind briefly wondered where Sylvia was now.

This party has been wild so far, and this is only the first evening of the four day adventure that Sylvia talked me into as we sat at the bar before noon today- or was that yesterday? I recall it was 8PM when our host looked at me banging a blonde on the sofa in front of the big tv displaying a live feed from the bedroom with a floor covered with mattresses which were being used by perhaps twenty naked people doing what naked people do on mattresses on the floor. Her left hand stroked my back, then patted and caressed my ass. She held out her right hand with the little blue pills - "Looks like you don't need this right now, but later on it may be helpful." I gladly accepted one, and washed it down with the last of the Knob Creek in my tumbler sitting on the table beside the sofa.

I'm balls deep in someone - doggie style, and have no clue as to how long we've been here, or where we were before becoming engaged in our current activity. I also have no clue as to why I'm not bothered that I don't know her name or what her face looks like. I'm holding onto her perfect-width hips, and occasionally slapping her tight and beautifully formed, muscular ass cheeks, while admiring a series of interconnected tattoos from the nape of her neck, along her spine, then splitting to cross the tops of her hips, then forward onto the anterior portions of the finely sculpted and fit human female form into which I'm thrusting. Her soft moans, and louder exultations of More! Harder! indicate to me that she is enjoying our activity as much as I am.

I dimly recall, before assuming our current positions, seeing - after I tongued, nibbled, and kissed every inch of the ink from her neck, down her spine, then across her lower back, following the vine around her hips as it followed the line of her external abdominal obliques, which, when as well formed and sculpted as in the person in front of and beneath me, were to my way of thinking, intelligently and wisely designed to lead eyes and hands to a promised land now out of sight but not out of reach of my exploring hands - a destination topped by a narrow landing strip of soft Titian hair just above the pussy in which I was now fully embedded.

I don't know if the tattoos continue down her legs - I got distracted and delayed earlier when my tongue demanded time to become acquainted with certain anatomical features in the area to which the vines and muscles had led me, and my fingers decided they needed and deserved some tactile exploration of the soft lengths and curls of that trimmed and shaped naturally reddish landing strip. She had - before, during, and after said exploration - by words, moans, and actions heartily approved and encouraged those distractions, explorations, and diversions. I do know I need to find an opportunity at some point in the next few days to further explore and navigate the full path of those vines.

As my eyes and attention return to the current task at hand, I notice the hair on the left side of her head is purple and the other half is green with some white streaks.

I don't know why I had not noticed the Tri-colored hair before. I do know I was beginning to actually think about and remember some of the events of the day and the evening, after what must have been hours of simply floating along the stream of carnal activities in the house. Maybe some of whatever chemicals I had in my system were wearing off and my mental functions were returning. Based on my current activity, and snippets of memories of other similar encounters since arriving here, my physical functions have been operating at a high level of proficiency for hours.

I again wondered if thinking about the four hours warning was gong to cause problems with continuing those physical activities. The higher order, more developed portions of my brain told me it was wise to wonder and think and make a plan of what to do. The lower prehistoric portions of my brain thought a plan to obtain another blue pill, just in case was the way to go. My condom encased dick throbbed, as if to remind my mentally-awakening brain to also pay attention to, - and get those newly realized mental functions participating in - the important physical activities.

A voice from the trio who had entered brought my mind back around to the present. "Don't mind us, we just need to use that other bed. This is one of the few bedrooms with two queen beds."

I saw her purple and green hair move as she turned her head to the sound of the new voice, "Hey Jake, who you got with you there? I didn't know you'd be here tonight." I could now see a partial profile of her face and from what I could see, I could tell the full face was going to be strikingly beautiful.

The same male voice from the trio answered, "Oh, Hi, Natalie! God! You look so sexy there - those tits do swing so nicely when you are on your knees like that.... Maybe we can get together later? You going to be here all four days?"

When he had heard her speak to him, he had veered from his path to the second bed, instead stopping beside the bed where we were still busy with our activities. He stood there watching for a few thrusts, then spoke; "This is Amy," he nodded to the naked blond on his left, "and over here," he looked to his right "is her friend." He looked at the equally naked brunette, "What's your name honey?" He looked at me, "We had not gotten properly introduced before we decided to leave that group thing in the other bedroom - that bed is a big California King, but it was getting too crowded for my tastes."

The brunette giggled, looked at me and did the cute pinkie wave thing with the hand that was not holding onto Jake's well formed bicep.

"I'm Amber. You're cute. What's your name? I'm sure Nat will be happy to share you later!" When you finish there, why don't you come on over to help us out? Jake won't mind will you sweetie?"

The woman in whom my cock was buried - I now knew her name was Natalie - looked back over her shoulder, not giving me time to answer. "Don't be getting distracted back there. I was really enjoying that pace before you slowed down even more, and you need to get back in that wonderful rhythm you had going. We can all chat afterwards, now get busy!" She wiggled her butt and lowered her head back onto her arms.

No words were needed on my part, I simply shook my head over the really odd nature of what had happened over the previous two minutes, and gladly got back into the groove of relentlessly fucking the goddess in front of me. A slight moan and deeper arch of her back told me she approved of my return to the important physical activities

<strong>11:59 PM Thursday</strong>

Yeah, I admit I had gotten distracted by the unexpected interruption and by the sheer beauty and sexuality of the two women who had entered with Jake, but I quickly ignored those memories and returned to my previous long slow rhythm, which now seemed to be keeping time with that blinking blue colon - blink, stroke in, blink, stroke out, blink in, blink out. Like a cock with a finely tuned clock.

Long, slow strokes which allowed for long slow fucks, if one could stop thinking about those warnings about four hours.