Bangbus Refugee

Clara, the older woman across the street, was not only using me as a sexual trainer for her female relatives, but also as her errand boy. One day, she sent me to a single family home where I was to purchase a specific cream. "I'll tell you all about its properties when you get back."

The house was at the edge of town in a pretty seedy area, but not far from a small college annex. The woman who answered the door was Jamaican, with a gargantuan body under a flower print muumuu. In her case, the name of the garment was particularly appropriate. She was "udderly" humongous.

The place smelled of incense, or perhaps rancid sausage. On shelves were all kinds of sexual devices: dildos in a wide variety of shapes and sizes, from tiny to huge, even bigger than Harry Cocksworth, various colors, flesh tone, black, one the colors of the rainbow, and one striped like an old-fashioned barber pole, and various textures as well, from smooth to ones with huge nubs like on a snow tire. When I gave her Clara's name, she nodded and thumped across the room. The floor shook with each step. She pulled a tube, like for toothpaste but plain silver, from a drawer under a display case for whips and fur-covered handcuffs, and dropped it into a plain brown bag.

"Tis iz it. TingleCream. Use small quantities." She half laughed, half coughed. I gave her Clara's envelope. She didn't bother opening it. Trusting woman.

I left the house with Clara's purchase and started back home. I couldn't help but notice a young woman sitting on side of road. Her arms extended between her thighs, which were spread wide. Her head hung low. An explosive mane of blonde hair hid her face. And, she was barefoot. Her finger and toe nails were polished in the most vibrant shade of red I'd ever seen.

I pulled over. After all, what am I if not someone who handles females in distress? And sometimes manhandles them. "Can I help?"

She lifted her head and brushed a shock of unkempt blonde hair from her face and forced a smile. She was practiced in not scratching herself with those long nails. "A couple of guys left me here. Can you give me a ride?" She stood, which is when I saw she was pretty well endowed.

"Sure. Hop in." I shoved the brown bag in my pocket.

"Thanks, mister-"

"Marcus. Harvey Marcus. Where to? Campus?" It was an educated guess.

"I've got an apartment, over near Grant."

Grant was the name of the college annex, a couple of miles away, not a viable destination barefoot. "What happened to you, if I might ask?"

"There were these three guys. They seemed nice enough. They drove one of those old vans. An old folks' wagon? You know, from Alice's Restaurant? God, what a great movie. I study film." The mention of cinema was accompanied by her first real smile.

She meant a Volkswagen, specifically a microbus.

"Anyway, they said they'd give me money if I-" She sniffled. "If I showed them my tits."

Abandoned by a group of guys in a Volkswagen microbus? Sounds like the Bangbus, operated by the Bang Brothers. I'd seen videos of their escapades online. They pick up some unsuspecting woman, offer her money to undress, usually fuck her silly, and then ask her to do something that forces her to leave the van. Then, laughing, they'd drive off. Not so funny if you're the victim. Are they operating here?

"They got my pussy," she added.

Of course they did. They start out offering a few bucks for a tit shot, then the shirt comes off, then a few dollars more for pants, then the stakes are raised for a blowjob. Except the guy in back is always well hung, like ten to twelve inches, so the woman struggles to take any of it. At the end of every episode I'd watched, that guy fucks the daylights out of the unsuspecting, vulnerable- Shit, I've got one in my car. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't know what I'll do without vagina."

"Huh?" They don't usually keep the victim's cunt.

"I hope they take good care of her. She only drinks soy milk."

Ah-ha. A real pussy, as in cat. I'd seen them keep their victims stuff - purses, shoes, but never an animal.

"I was so stupid, taking a ride from them, and then they dumped me. They even kept my shoes." She wiggled her bare feet, red toenails flashing, which led my eyes up her legs to her denim shorts. They must have stolen her bra too, or she didn't bother with one. Not that I was aiming for potholes, but her tits jiggled wildly within her stretched t-shirt with a scoop collar.

She kept rubbing her crotch through her shorts, and then noticed I'd seen. "Sorry. The guy who did me was really big, but insensitive, you know? He just wanted to dump. It left me sore."

Dump as in cum? "I wish there was something I could do." Like kiss it and make it better? Nah, this woman had been taken advantage of enough for one day.

In a short time, I pulled up to the address she gave me.

"Thanks. God, what an idiot I am!" She opened the door and swiveled her legs out. I saw a long expanse of muscular thigh and the underside of two round ass cheeks peeking out from her shorts as she stood. Only after she slammed the door did I notice a wet spot she'd left on the passenger seat. As she walked towards the two-story building, her ass shook and her hair bounced in all directions. I memorized her address. Who knows what might bring me back? The urge to see big tits? Or take our incidental meeting to the next level?

I got to thinking about the Bang Brothers mode of operation. There was no rush to get the TingleCream back to Clara, so I decided to cruise the neighborhood where they'd picked the young coed up. Lots of college females strutting their stuff, a good trolling spot for sex junkies, like the Bang Brothers. And me. Listening to her account had me more excited than watching one of their videos. Almost.

Sure enough, cruising slowly down the cross street, a dilapidated VW Microbus, with two visible seedy characters, passed in front of my car. I made two rights and broke every speed law to get ahead of them on a parallel street. I parked and ran out onto the sidewalk. As they got close, I flagged them down.

But what to say? "Hey!! I know you guys." I laid it on thick, like I was a fan. "Fuckin' Bang Brothers!" A shook a hand with horns, thumb and pinky.

"Bang Broze," the guy riding shotgun corrected me. Did I hear a faint meow?

The guy in back, probably the hung fucker, slid the rear door panel back. Sure enough, Vagina was cowering along the far side.

"Wow!! I never thought I'd meet you guys. Score anybody lately? Huh??" I played it up big, to feed their need for celebrity. Maybe it would work, or maybe they'd speed off and leave me eating their dust.

"Yeah, some chick that was dumber than rocks-"

Wouldn't 'smart as rocks' have retained the irony? But these guys were fuckers, not writers like me. "I bet you got her good." I had to be sure we were talking about the same girl. "What'd ya' do? Huh?"

The guy in front smelled of beer. "We didn't have to ask. She threw her clothes off almost before she got in."

"And that tattoo? God, she was a horny bitch," added the fucker.

The driver added, "She was so anxious, Stan didn't need to get her warmed up. He pulled her onto his lap and gave her his footlong."

Stan laughed so hard, he almost fell over. "All the while, she was asking me to purr. No chick ever asked me to make animal sounds. I growled just to piss her off."

"I thought about taking her doggy style for seconds," said the guy riding shotgun. "Get it? Doggy?"

Stan laughed so hard he was having trouble breathing. "She kept pleading with me to slow down and tell her she was pretty. Pretty stupid! I just kept pounding and growled some more." He reached behind and rubbed his back.

"And you barked!" said shotgun.

"When I came in her, yeah!" Stan held his sides, struggling for air.

I joined in the laughter, hoping my guffaws weren't obviously forced. "What's with the cat? More pussy?" I tried to get them to laugh, but only got scowls.

"The cunt left it behind."

We all knew they'd dumped her. Leaving Vagina wasn't voluntary.

Nothing to lose. "Say, can I have it? My kid wants a pet, and I'd laugh my ass off every time it walked by. Pussy cat, get it?"

"She called it Vagina. Isn't that a stitch?" asked Stan.

"I'll tell my kids its name is Spot. Short for G-Spot."

Shotgun thought that was funny enough for a lone "ha."

"Sure, take the mangy critter."

I took the cat and watched them drive off, probably in search of another victim. I walked back to my car, talking to the cat. "We'll get you back with your mistress real soon." Mistress, hmmm? The cat wandered around the passenger seat, sniffing at the dried cum. My memory was good enough to get me back to her place. There were three tenants, each with a bell, but only one female name - Irene.