Stuck Streaking

"It's easy," Brian said. "I leave the pub by the side door, streak along the shops and around behind them, where Adam will be waiting to pick me up. What can go wrong?"

"What can go wrong?" he grumbled to himself, doing his best to be inconspicuous as he huddled behind some bushes, watching the police breathalyse Adam, who he damned well knew would be over the limit.

"What can't go wrong?" he muttered, as that idiot Adam suddenly became obstreperous, swinging at one of the cops.

"Please leave the keys," he begged quietly as Adam was helped into the back of the police car and removed.

"Damn," was his heartfelt comment on finding the car firmly locked. There didn't even seem to be any handy rocks that would let him break a window and get in. He was well and truly stuck.

"One advantage," he mused. "It's late. I'll just sneak around until I find a place where I can sneak in and pinch a pair of pants."

Suiting thought to deed, Brian headed down the nearest street, slipping from shelter to shelter, striving to remain unseen as he checked out each house. Any with lights he ignored, but eventually he came across one completely unlit. Moving slowly and keeping an eye out for any dogs, he edged around the house, testing the windows.

At the side of the house, towards the rear, a window was unfastened. Breathing a sigh of relief, Brian edged it open and heaved himself up and over the sill. He heard a swishing sound and that was all he heard, as everything went dark.

Waking up Brian discovered several things. He was still naked. His head hurt. He was lying on what appeared to be a bed. He was also blindfolded and tied to the bed.

Brian gasped and called out.

"Ah," said a female voice. "Our would-be rapist awakes."

"What do you mean, rapist. I'm not a rapist," protested Brian.

"Really? You climb naked into a woman's bedroom in the middle of the night for fun?" asked a second voice.

"I've lost my clothes," said Brian. "I was hoping to find something to wear. That's all. I swear it."

From the laughter, it seemed that the women didn't readily believe him, which was, he supposed, understandable.

"I can explain," he said quickly. "Honestly I can."

He went on to tell his listeners about the bet, which he'd won, damnit, and how his pickup had let him down.

"If Adam hadn't got stroppy the cops would have left him there, and he could have given me my clothes and I could have driven home," he grumbled.

"More likely the cops would have stopped and tested you and you would have been walking home," came the unsympathetic reply. "Angela, take a look around the yard and see if his clothes are out there. If they're not, then it might be that he's telling the truth."

"Do you mind untying me?" asked Brian. "I'm not going to hurt anyone."

"Not while you're tied to the bed, anyway," came the cool reply.

After a while Brian heard footsteps approaching.

"No clothes, Deb," called Angela. "I ran down to the shops and there is a car parked behind them with what appears to be clothes in the back. It appears he was telling the truth."

"So," said Deb. "What do we do now? Have the police come and remove him or what?"

"Well," Angela replied, amusement in her voice. "We could give him something to cover his nakedness and send him on his way, and then call the police to let them know there's a prowler. That'll make him hurry along."

"What do we have that someone his size could where?" queried Deb.

"Nanna let a muumuu here. We've still got it. It'll fit him with room to spare."

Deb giggled. "You're right. I know the one you mean."

"What the hell is a muumuu," wondered Brian, not really caring if it meant he got something to wear and a chance to leave.

"Alright, Angela," decided Deb. "You go get the muumuu. I'll cut him loose and he can get dressed and go. But make sure you call the police before I cut him loose. We don't want him to start getting ideas."

"Actually, Deb," said Angela. "I already have ideas."

Brian felt a small hand running familiarly over him before settling on his cock. The hand started gently stroking him, and it didn't take long for his erection to swell.

"Really, Angela," snapped Deb. "Leave it alone. You don't know where it's been."

"True, but we can wash it and shave it and give it a nice raincoat before we really start playing with it."

"Ah, ladies," protested Brian. "If it's all the same to you I'd just as soon get the muumuu and go home."

The hand that was stroking his erection tightened and gave a firm tug on it.

"Quiet," he was told. "We weren't talking to you."

"Well, what do you say Deb?"

"OK. Clean him up and dress your little playmate and we'll take it from there.

Brian protested, but was ignored as the girls produced a warm wet cloth and carefully washed him. He froze when Deb next spoke.

"I shave with an old-fashioned barbers cut throat razor. It's very sharp, so I suggest you hold very still."

Brian sweated, feeling one woman holding his erection firmly out of the way while the other drew the lethal feeling blade all over his groin, giving him a close shave.

Finally satisfied with their efforts, the women removed their equipment and returned to their new toy.

Brian twisted and swore at them as they stroked his cock, running their hands up and down it and apparently taking it in turns to lightly scratch the head. Their every touch seemed to make his cock swell even more, until it was painful to feel.

Pleased with their efforts the women paused, and then Brian felt a condom being rolled onto him.

Now he could hear the rustle of clothing and assumed that the women were undressing. The bed tilted slightly to one side as someone climbed on it, then he could feel someone straddling him, and coming down upon him, engulfing him.

As he felt his cock sliding smoothly into place Brian groaned. Enough was enough. He thrust vigorously upwards, pushing himself triumphantly into the descending pussy, feeling himself slam hard against his rider's smooth mons.

There was a gurgle of laughter above him, and then his rider was really riding him, bouncing enthusiastically upon his cock, her internal muscles happily gripping and sliding as she went.

A grumbling voice was saying "My turn," and his rider slowed her pace and even more slowly dismounted. Another rider scrambled into position, sinking down upon him, and the ride started again.

A pattern was quickly established. Every time Brian thought he was ready to climax, there would be a change of partners, his want-to-be climax fading away at each delay.

Brian was groaning with need before he finally detected a change in the rhythm. His current rider was gasping and coming, and suddenly she was frantically convulsing about him, and at long last his own climax triggered.

"That wasn't fair," he heard Angela lament. "It was my idea so I should have been the lucky one."

"Luck of the draw," laughed Deb. "You'll have to finish off with the dildo. Now go get the dress.

Now Brian, I'm going to leave the dress here on the bed and I'll untie you. You will then put on the dress and depart via the window. While I'm freeing you, Angela will be ringing the police to report a prowler, so I don't suggest you stay around."

Angela returned and tossed the muumuu on the bed, and then left the room again. Brian could hear her on the phone. Deb gave the ropes tying him four quick tugs, causing the knots to drop away. She then stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Brian tried the door, finding it locked. Flicking the light switch, he found the light didn't go on. Swearing to himself and knowing the police could well be on their way he groped for the dress and slipped it over his head. To his surprise it was roomy, very roomy. He hated to think what the woman who owned it looked like.

He scrambled out the window and made his way briskly down the street, eager to put distance between himself and that house of horrors.

Passing under a streetlight, a glance down showed that he'd brought one horror away with him. The muumuu was bright red, with giant yellow flowers on it. God, if the cops picked him up wearing this. He hastened homeward.