Chapter 19: Marcy

Friday, December 15, 2023

The Pink Umbrella spun in circles. Why was the entire bar spinning? That didn’t seem right or natural. I let go of my tequila and put both hands on the bar to steady the building, but it continued to turn. That made me laugh. What was more hilarious than a spinning building?

“What’s so funny?” a girl next to me asked. Her name was Margo—or maybe Fargo? She was a tall, skinny girl with pink hair, good makeup, and a septum piercing to match her lip and eyebrow. I wondered what else she had pierced...

“What else you got pierced?” I slurred to the girl whose name I was pretty sure had -argo somewhere in it. Cargo? No, that couldn’t be right. But Cargo would be pretty funny.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she said, sticking her tongue out to reveal a stud through the center of it.

“That’s why I asked.” I tipped the rest of the tequila into my mouth and swallowed it. Then I groaned as my brain struggled again to process the room’s movement.

“Why don’t you come to my place, and I’ll show you all my piercings...”

I grinned widely. “Can you drive? Because I am so drunk!” The last two words in that sentence took me about five seconds to say because I dragged it out for so long.

“I better not,” -argo said as she drained her drink. “But I can get us an Uber.”

“Uber.” I liked the way that word felt when I said it. “Cool.”

Five minutes later, -argo and I were making out in the back of a Ford Explorer, the taste of alcohol thick as our tongues explored each other’s mouths. My heart beat faster as our kissing got heavier. My cock twitched in my pants. Better yet, the longer we kissed, the more numb I grew to any pain.

That was the plan. Ever since the phone call on the cruise ship three weeks ago, I kept the pain at bay by clouding it over with booze, drugs, and sex. Fortunately, those three medications were very effective. I woke up every morning in a different woman’s house, apartment, or basement bedroom. Hung over. Partially stoned. Well-fucked.

Each morning, the fog in my mind began to break. I started thinking about my mom’s funeral and all the people who attended it: Diane’s friends. My cousins, aunts, uncles. Work colleagues. Lots of lesbians. And, of course, my friends. Kitt and Jade. Gina. Robin. It had been a well-attended affair. People loved Diane.

All of that became a blur after three or four drinks. I tried to get alcohol into my system as early in the day as I could. After five or six drinks, I forgot about Phoebe sobbing through her eulogy and my pathetic stumbling through my own words, barely able to read my notes.

I’d been on a sex cruise in Miami when my mother had died. Mom passed away, and I was on a sex cruise. High on E and cocaine. Fucking strangers. Making lots of money.

I could have saved her. All I had to do was make a deal with the devil. Instead, I decided to keep my soul and fuck people for money while doing lots of drugs. I’d been so high I could barely comprehend what Phoebe was telling me on the phone.

Robin and I had a massive fight after I found her with Kitt in my cabin. I’d stormed out, snorted a huge line, popped a couple of pills, and fucked anyone and anything I could find through the entire night. I was so hopped up I couldn’t sleep. I just kept fucking. When the yacht crew found me, I was sandwiched between identical twins from the Czech Republic who were also high as kites and wanted to take turns riding me.

Then everything crashed down. I found M and told her I had to leave. It was an emergency. She hadn’t been at all understanding. I got mad. I don’t remember what I said, but it was loud and rage-filled. M called Robin and me a helicopter and told me my days with Black Velvet were over. I was never welcome at the mansion again.

At the moment, I didn’t care. I would move back to Denver and start plumbing again. I’d saved up a good chunk of money. I would be fine. Once I had my master plumber’s license, I’d be making more money and be able to save the rest I needed to open my plumbing shop.

But the next day, my boss at the plumbing company called and said he couldn’t wait for me to return. He had to let me go. Even after explaining how my mother just died and that I would be able to move back to Denver as soon as the funeral was over, he fired me. That night I went out and drank, and spent the night at a girl’s house named Jamie, a woman I’d fucked about a year earlier under similar circumstances. When I got home, Robin didn’t say a word to me. Neither did Phoebe.

I went out again the next night. And the next. All I wanted was pussy and chemically induced numbness. And I found it. I didn’t care how ugly or fat the women were. I fucked them with my cock or my pussy. Whatever they wanted, I gave it to them. I was a giver.

I was sober for the funeral. Sort of. Robin cried through the whole thing, her collar around her neck but covered up tactfully by her dress’s neckline. I stood before everyone and stammered, mind numb and body cold. People came up to me before and after and said words. I had a faint recollection of Jade hugging me, but everything was so foggy that it could have been my imagination. When we returned home, the house seemed empty even though three of us still lived inside it. Phoebe went wordlessly to her room and closed the door.

Robin put her arms around me for an embrace, but I stepped away and said, “I’m going out. Don’t wait up.”

My pet didn’t protest. She barely spoke to me anymore. I decided I’d had enough of Robin. At that moment, I hated everything about my so-called pet. Another night, I went out and picked up a decent-looking woman at the bar, brought her home, and ordered Robin to eat her out while I watched and commented. The woman thought it was incredibly hot, but I could tell Robin was angry and miserable. I didn’t care. I made her do everything I could think of that she disliked: lick pussy, eat ass, and get her face sat on by a stranger.

Robin never said no.

I spent lots of money on alcohol and drugs. I rarely ate food, which meant I was losing a couple of pounds a week, but I didn’t care about that either. I deserved misery. I could have saved Diane and given Phoebe a happy life. I had chosen not to. This was my reward.

Now I had -argo all over me. She had abandoned her seat belt and seat, straddling my lap, kissing and sucking every inch of my face and neck, whimpering and rocking her hips back and forth like a bitch in heat.

“Ladies,” our driver said nervously in an African accent, “perhaps it would be better to wait until we reached the destination. Your behavior is distracting, and I worry that we could get into a—”

“You have arrived at your destination,” his phone announced.

“Five fucking stars,” -argo said as she grabbed my hand and yanked me from the car, and pulled me up the walk to her small house. We practically sprinted up the walkway. She unlocked her door with her phone, and we tumbled through the door onto the floor.

“I’m so fucking wet!” she announced. “Taste my pussy.”

-argo got up on her knees and hiked up her skirt so I could see her panties and the wet spot that had formed right over her crotch. She pulled the strip of her panties aside and unveiled her bare wet cunt to my eyes.

“Can I sit on your face?” she asked me.

“Yes,” I hissed. “Put it right on me.”

-argo walked on her knees up to my head and lowered her pleasure box onto my waiting mouth. I performed the task that I did best. I gave her what she wanted. My tongue probed up and out, pushing through the soft folds of her pussy lips and getting an immediate taste of her tangy juice.

-argo had a lovely pussy with puffy outer lips and soft pink inner lips that just peeked out from between the labia major. It was almost like they wanted to say hello. Above her lips was a pierced clitoral hood unable to hide a swollen, aroused clitoris, fat and plump. Above that, bare skin led to a taut, pierced navel.

I explored everything with my mouth. I started by kissing and licking her pretty lips. I put the tip of my tongue inside her canal and was rewarded with more wetness, a brilliantly tangy flavor I found delightful, even in my drunken state. I pushed deeper into her, and she responded by grinding lightly on my nose and chin. My tongue scraped the walls of her pussy, licking and scooping her copious fluids into my mouth.

“Oh baby,” she cooed. “That feels amazing!”

I smiled into her pussy and licked from her taint up to her clit. She gasped when my tongue brushed her swollen nub. I avoided it for now, delaying her pleasure for now to build her up to an even more incredible orgasm in a few moments. My lips traveled to her thighs, kissing them, biting them, teasing them. -argo groaned with mild frustration, but I soon returned to her pussy, licking her more firmly, practically massaging her cunt with the flat of my tongue and pushing up to her clit.

-argo gasped and put more weight on my face. Then I attacked her clit. -argo could barely breathe as I sucked, licked, and bit her clit, mixing it up with pressure from my nose as my tongue continued to pay attention to her labia and tunnel entrance.

“Oh baby, yes! Baby, yes! Baby! Baby! Yes, baby!” -argo squealed and kicked her legs. “Almost, baby! Almost there, baby!”

I trapped -argo’s clit between my lips and flicked my tongue wildly, my hands now rubbing up and down her ass to give me a little more control over her weight and position.

“Oh God! Baby, yes! Yes, baby!”

I continued to do that until she squealed out an orgasm. Her thighs tightened around my head, muting her high-pitched screech as she coated my nose, lips, and chin with her tangy sauce. I drank up whatever went into my mouth. -argo convulsed on my face for several seconds and I finally backed off her clit. She caressed her breasts and stomach, enjoying the sensations of the orgasm.

“Oh, baby, that was so good,” she said. “I haven’t cum like that in months. Thank you.”

She leaned down and pressed her lips and tongue to my mouth, both kissing me and tasting her cum off of my face.

“You’re welcome,” I said when she finally stopped kissing me. “Now, is it my turn?”

-argo grinned wickedly. “Of course.”

“Do you want my pussy or my cock?”

“Huh?” -argo asked. “You’re wearing a strap-on?”

“No,” I said, taking her hand and guiding it down to my crotch. I had already unbuttoned my jeans and slid them a few inches down my hips. Now I pushed -argo’s hand into my panties. She felt my cock and inhaled sharply.

“Oh my God!” I heard the panic in her voice, but I held her hand tight so she couldn’t yank it away.

“Wait.”

I pushed her hand further into my panties until her fingers brushed my pussy lips.

“Holy shit,” she whispered. “You’re a girl and a guy?”

“I’m a girl who happens to have a dick above her clit,” I said firmly. “My breasts are real. My pussy is real.”

“A futanari.” -argo said the word with reverence. “I’ve read about it on the internet. I thought it was just a thing in anime.”

“Do you want to ride it?”

-argo froze, biting her lip. “I don’t know. I’ve never had a cock—a real one—in me.”

“It’s up to you,” I said. “No pressure.”

-argo thought about it some more. I could tell she was curious. “Maybe next time? Maybe you can stroke it while I go down on you? And then ... I wouldn’t mind tasting your cum. I’ve always been keen on trying that.”

“Yeah,” I giggled. “That sounds good.”

She helped me get my jeans off, and instantly, my cock sprang to life. -argo hesitantly touched it and pulled it up.

“It’s big!” she exclaimed. “Is this bigger than average?”

I liked my cock at about nine inches—the same size Robin said she preferred. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“You know what would be hot? If you could suck your own cock? Don’t you think?” She gave my cock a few more sample strokes before handing it off to me. “I wanna taste your pussy now.”

I took over stroking my cock, gently twisting the head and slowly growing its length and girth until it was almost twice the length. Meanwhile, -argo slipped a finger inside my cunt and began to kiss the top of my thighs.

To double my pleasure, I raised my legs up and back until my body was folded in half, then lifted my head and slipped the head of my cock into my mouth. I had stroked my cock many times, and the only thing better than jerking myself was sucking myself. I had experimented with this a few times since discovering my ability to grow my cock’s size.

Waves of pleasure spread through my body, my legs quivering as -argo proved herself to be a more than adequate pussy licker. There were no words to describe the combined pleasure of having my cunt serviced while my dick also received oral pleasure. It was impossible to get used to the sensation. Even sucking my own cock did the trick.

“Your pussy tastes so good!” -argo declared. “I swear it tastes like cake batter!”

I laughed out loud, having heard those words so many times.

“It’s incredible!” -argo pushed her face and tongue deeper into my tunnel. My body reacted instinctively, my hips wriggling into her face to help her.

I was already going into orgasm mode. I couldn’t take all the pleasure. I pushed -argo off my pussy which began to spasm in the climax, grunting loudly and lewdly as I stroked my eighteen-inch cock, which -argo had just noticed.

“Holy fucking—” My splooge blasted from the tip of my penis and sprayed into her mouth, choking off her words and leaving her coughing and sputtering as the hosing continued onto her cheeks, nose, and eyes.

By the time my climax had come to a drizzling halt, -argo was the picture of a dripping cumslut, her face a frosted mess.

“It’s so amazing,” she finally got out once her coughing had subsided. She scooped more of my cum into her mouth, moaning with delight. “This is what cum tastes like?”

“Mhmm,” I said with no desire to tell her that my jism was far better tasting than the average male’s. “That’s why so many women like to swallow.”

“Oh God! Mmm!” She slid it from her cheeks and chin into her gaping maw.

I didn’t fuck -argo that night, but I did get her to suck on my cock, which I shrunk down to a manageable nine inches for her. And she did get off with me rubbing it against her pussy and clit.

Around 2 a.m., when we were both all fucked out, I said weakly, “What was your name again?”

“Marcy!” she said in a shocked tone. “You forgot my name?”

“What? I’m drunk!”

“Marcy. My name is Marcy. Like yours.”

“Short for ... Margo?” I asked.

“No. Just Marcy.”

I laughed. “Oh. Yeah.”

I crashed on her bed and took an Uber in the morning to get my car from the bar. Around 9 a.m. I rolled into my house and found Robin gone. Phoebe was in the kitchen but saw me come inside. She gave me a look of deep disgust before leaving to go to her bedroom.

“What?” I called after her. “Have you got something you want to say?”

The door closed, and she didn’t come out. After taking some aspirin and downing a glass of water, I worked out despite feeling like utter shit. I had to keep my body strong and toned to maintain my sexual edge. After my workout, I sat in the shower, soaking in the hot water for half an hour, sweating out the rest of the alcohol, and letting my muscles relax.