Like so many others, I have been a long-time reader, never a writer. What prompted this change, strangely enough, it started with a game of Truth or Dare in a Lit chat room one night. An answer to a Truth question and a few gracious comments, thus my first story was born. Please be kind, the story took a twist, and well, I ran with it. Comments are appreciated.
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All parties are consenting adults over the age of 18. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead is purely coincidental.
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Resuming our story, Dean now remembers.
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"Remember Zoe?" was the last thing Dean heard, his screams muffled by the ball gag, his mind racing as fast as his heart, memories flood in as his cock is slowing being milked.
"Remember Zoe?" It's been three years now, the memory floods back in...
Three years ago. A small studio apartment, nothing special, but the view of the bay was picture perfect, and very few neighbors...
"C'mon Zoe, you said you wanted to do this. YOU begged me to do this. I didn't want to, YOU did, remember. Hell, I tried to talk you out of it. You can't back out now. The guys are here. You teased them and promised them the night of their lives"
"I know Dean. But now I'm not so sure. I mean I...Fuck! Why didn't you try harder to talk me out of this?" Zoe whines.
Standing at 5 feet 5 inches, long auburn hair falling just above her ass, Zoe is a sight to behold. Years of gymnastics, swimming, and dancing have toned and sculpted her body into a work of art. Never one to show off her body, you wouldn't know that under the rather billowy clothes she is always wearing, is a slim 108 pounds waif of a girl with firm 34C's. Rounding out her body at 37-24-36, it's a rather deadly combination. But for me, it's those sapphire blue eyes that I can get lost in. Tell me, honestly, who could tell her no, to anything? Not me.
"Uh, uh, no way, you're not blaming this on me. I tried to talk you out of this, remember. I was all set to tell you no way until you did that little trick of yours like you always do when you want your way.", suddenly, there is a pounding at the door. "Shit, for once they're early. So what's it gonna be Zoe?"
"Fuck it!" she says, "Let's do this!"
Dean exits the room to let the guys in. Sighing deeply, she takes one last look at the room and sees everything is ready. Soon she hears all the guys laughing and joking, and she smiles at her reflection in the mirror and walks out to join them in all her naked glory.
Walking into the room, "Well boys, we ready to do this?", all the guys turn to look at her.
"Fuck me, you weren't kidding Dean," says Bob. At 6'2, 250 pores, and an amateur bodybuilder, to say he's built like a brick house, is putting it lightly.
"Damn, Zoe, looking good!" says Johnny. The skinny, pale white guy standing at a proud, 5'10, he's the underdog you don't mess with. A martial artist by trade, at 30, he's in his MMA weight class, preferring knockouts to submissions, his strength hidden by his small build undefeated.
