Chapter 14

It’s Monday. I don’t like Mondays. My ass is itchy, my muscles are sore and I am experiencing some major withdrawal symptoms.

I miss Kari and Ken.

I also miss Brit.

Does this mean that I am a sexaholic? Sexaholic? I believe the correct term is sex-addict. I like sex. I love sex. Am I addicted to sex, or am I simply hyper-sexual? What’s the difference between the two? Is there a difference at all? Who cares? Do you care? I know I don’t!

People do things, great things, terrible things, wonderful things and some very screwy things because of their raw, primal need for sex. Hmm, let’s see; during these past few days I helped my hot friends control, abuse and humiliate my dear ex-girlfriend. Yep, I’m such a wonderful guy ... a first class dick!

Brit was surprisingly cool with everything we did to her.

Oh shit! Brit!

I haven’t spoken to her since we left Kari and Ken’s place yesterday afternoon. Is she going to be pissed at me? Fuck it. Why should I care about her feelings? She’s a big girl. But, I do care.

My head is going to explode if I think about this much longer.

I need a triple, no scratch that, I need a quadruple espresso to get me through the rest of this fucking workday. Naturally, we don’t have an espresso machine here at lumberjack central, only some kind of piss coffee brewed by a giant of a man named Einar.

For some reason Einar is always hovering around the coffee machine, probably guarding it with his life. Keeping my eyes on Einar’s red, bushy beard and his creepy tobacco stained smile, I gulp down a full mug of his barely caffeinated piss and smile back at him. You know me well by now: I don’t mind drinking piss, but you have to at least fuck me first to get me in the mood.

“Good stuff,” I lie, feigning a smile.

“You’re welcome,” my co-worker Einar says in his usual cheerful gravelly voice and winks at me.

Poor, clueless, giant weirdo! He thinks he just made my day with his exquisite brew. I smile and leave the break room, then I remember that I have to put my phone away before I start working.

Ping!

I check my phone. I have a text message.

Brit: Coffee after work?

Me: 5:30. The new place near my house.

Brit: Smiley face.

Smiley face? That’s a good sign, I guess.

I’m about to put my phone in my locker when ... Ping!

Brit: Sex after coffee?

Wow! I wasn’t expecting that one. This crazy chick is on fire. Oh well, here’s something to get excited about. Coffee, and sex afterwards; maybe?

Wait a sec ... really?

Should I call Kari and ask for her permission or am I free to fuck Brit any time I want? I don’t know. Maybe? No, Kari won’t mind.

Me: Maybe.

Brit: Heart. Heart. Kissy face. Smiley pussycat. Lots of pussycats!

I’m such a fool. I expected Brit to be mad at me, or at least be ashamed of herself because of the events of these past few days. But I know Brit. She can be loving and horny one minute, and then turn totally cold and distant the next.

Maybe she has changed. Has she? I don’t know; I guess I’ll find out in a few hours. But now, I need to put away my phone and get to work. I have to push all the naughty, sex related thoughts out of my mind.

Tick, tock, tick, tock. Coffee, pussy, coffee, pussy, ass, ass, cock...

I am enjoying my strong, but smooth-as-velvet quadruple flat white. Sitting across the table from me, Brit is enjoying her cappuccino. She is wearing a light, pink jacket over a tight, white Hello Kitty T-shirt ... and no bra. With her blue eyeshadow, thick, black eyelashes and pink lipstick, she looks like a spoiled, rich brat straight out of an Instagram post.

She gives me half a smile as she fumbles nervously with a pack of cigarettes for a while, then she finally takes one out and lights it up with her fancy ST Dupont lighter. I feel that she’s about to say something, so I wait for her to speak first.

She takes a seductive drag off her cigarette and finally looks at me, sighing deeply. She looks so beautiful and vulnerable as her eyes tear up and her lips start to quiver like a little girl who has just lost her favorite doll.

“Do you ... I mean ... I,” she pauses for another draw on her cigarette. “What happened this weekend wasn’t real, was it?”

Oh boy. Here comes her regret and my punishment. I was a bad boy and such a fool to let my perverted new friends abuse this precious girl while I Watched ... and participated. I’m guilty.

Shame! Shame! Shame!

“Why?” I feign confusion, knowing pretty well what she is going through right now.

“I mean ... well ... I,” Brit mutters, staring at the table, at her fingernails, at anything and everything but me, then she starts to weep quietly.

Oh boy. Here we go.

She looks so fucking cute when she is helpless. I can torment her, but I won’t. I know where her frustration is coming from. She is essentially a good girl who has been through some unfortunate crap during her life. But then again, who goes through life without experiencing some kind of trauma?

Warning: thinky-preachy bullshit coming up in one ... two...

Our parents put us through crap because their parents put them through crap and we’ll probably put our children through crap and they put their children through crap until the end of times. We are unkind to those who are good to us, because someone else has been unkind to us in the past.

“You’re worried that I think less of you, right?” I say softly with a comforting smile.

“Oh God!” she sighs. “Yes! Thank you. I didn’t know how to say it. I mean ... everything that happened was ... surreal! I mean, it felt like it wasn’t me doing all those filthy, stupid, wonderfully exciting things! What the fuck is wrong with me? I am a good girl, from a good family.

“I still go to church, well not all the time, but some ... times. One minute I am me, the next I am being treated like a sex doll by the man I love and his friends; two complete strangers. Now I’m sitting here with you and I am crying ... and I am so turned on that I am soaking wet down there at the same time!”

Brit looks into my eyes as she draws on her cigarette, then blows a thin cloud of smoke through her sexy nostrils. The sad expression on her face is completely gone, instead a lovely smile is gracing her beautiful face.

“It’s time you take responsibility for your actions,” I add. “If you like doing something and you’re liking it, then do it. I mean, what happened at Ken and Kari’s place, nobody really forced you to do any of it. You could have left any time you wanted, but instead you wanted to be dominated and get used, right?”

“I suppose so,” Brit says, blushing cutely.

“Being bossed around kinda set you free from your ... inhibitions, from yourself. Didn’t it?”

“It ... yeah,” Brit nods. “It did. I wanted ... I needed it, I think.”

“And let me tell you something,” I say, smiling mischievously. “You are fucking awesome! I mean, you are an amazing woman, and when you let go of your fears and hangups ... wow! You were amazing!”

“I have never loved you more than I do now,” she says, her voice emotional and shaky. “I mean ... how old are you? Sometimes you talk like an old monk. You’ve always been this way, I know, that’s why I fell in love with you in the first place!”

Fuck old monks! I don’t like monks. I also don’t like monkeys. Ok. Too much thinking and pondering ain’t good for us. Let’s move it along and cut right into the action you’ve been waiting for:

Fastforward.

We pay the bill, leave the coffee shop and ... hey, look! There’s me:

Leaning back on my elbows on my bed while my feet are planted firmly on the floor and my ass rests on the very edge of the bed. On her knees in front of my spread legs, Brit is taking her time licking my balls.

She has three fingers lodged firmly deep inside my clenching asshole. She drags her tongue over my balls and slowly up my shaft, then across my piss-hole before wrapping her lips around my throbbing stormtrooper-helmet-shaped cock-head.

The force is strong with this one.

She looks up and stares directly into my eyes and bats her full lashes before taking my twitching dick deeper into her sexy mouth. She moans and hums, making me shiver from the light vibration caused by her vocal chords.

“Fuck!” I gasp.

“Mmm,” Brit continues to hum.

She applies more pressure on my poor poopity-pooper with her fingers, then she puts her other hand on my pubes, pushing down firmly ... and ... there you go. That’s it. I start to quiver when she curls her fingers upward deep inside me. My sensitive prostate gland tingles and I know that I am about to shoot my wad down her throat. She knows it too.

SPLUT! SPLAT! SPLUT!

I spurt load after load after load of thick cum into her mouth and down her throat. She makes absolutely no attempt to pull her mouth off my squirting dick.

Yodel-ay-hee-hoo! I’m done. No more cum to squirt. I grab Brit’s head with both hands and pull her face up and off of my crotch. What the heck? My slick dick is still hard!