Trolley No. 1852 (6 page)

She grabbed an exquisite steamed-wood chair
about and plopped right down in it, positioning me to stand before
her.

“I say, you’d be advised to treat that chair
with care, miss,” I warned. “Unless I’m mistaken, it’s a genuine
Adam. The canework alone is without peer.”

“Oh, shut
up,
you,” she sputtered
and at once fumbled with my belt. “We’ll get to the bottom
of
this
. If it’s
all you in here, I’ll be a monkey’s aunt…”

I remained mystified by her coy complaint. A
sudden modesty overwhelmed me when she unfastened my trousers, then
hastily slid them down along with my briefs.

Ammi stared with a dropped
jaw, stared right at my bared groin. “You’ve
got
to be kidding me…”

“What?” I asked, but my
feet shifted a bit, from the cringing embarrassment of being so
closely and privately examined. All I could think to utter was, “I,
uh, I suppose it’s not as large as you’re use to,” and I chuckled
nervously “But there’s little I can do about
that.
”

She gaped up with
jade-green irises burning beneath the blacker-than-onyx eyebrows.
“Not as
large?
This is the biggest prick I’ve ever
seen…
”

Her remark befogged me, for in her tone I
detected not a trace of prevarication. “You, uh, you mean to say
that my… member is more sizable than the average you’re accustomed
to?”

She snapped in a course
delight. “It’s the biggest
cock
I’ve ever had hanging in my face, and I can tell
you, there’ve been quite a few!” and with that she began to stroke
the drooping shaft of flesh with a lithe finger.

I chuckled. “You flatter me, Ammi, but I’m
sure you’re being over-lenient in your assessment of my
privates.”

She giggled another
“Shut
up!
” and
without reservation sucked the entirety of my flaccid penis into
her mouth. The adroitness of her oral skill sent shivers through my
being. (This, for me, was a pleasure long forgotten; my ex-wife had
a knack for it, I will say, but her preference for penetration
always won out. Many was the night I’d gaze at the ceiling
contemplating Poe, Machen, and Blackwood whilst she hopped
ludicrously up and down on me, enfrenzied akin to a mare in heat.)
But as for this highly spirited and deliciously naked Ammi,
erecting my manhood seemed to be her most steadfast desire. It
didn’t take long before its girth actually stretched her lips. She
nearly gagged sliding it out. “Jesus
Christ
, mister! It’s so big I can’t
even get it all in my mouth!”

“I—I… don’t know what to say…”

She checked my hands,
examining them, evidently, for traces of a wedding band. “So
you’re
not
married?”

“Oh, no, not anymore.”

“Well, it’s an awful shame
that some happy woman isn’t getting
this
stuck in her every
night!”

I felt foolish presuming
to converse whilst my nearly erect privates wobbled up and down,
and that was not to mention the
preposterous
entails of our
discourse. “I was married once but I’m afraid the halls of academe
proved far more my forte than the pastures of domesticity and
wedlock.”

She glared at me.
“Shut
up!
” and
then she yanked me to the bed and nearly threw me down on it. “Now…
I’ve just
got
to
know!”

I peered toward where she now rummaged
through a drawer in the spectacular armoire. “Know what, if I may
ask?”

“Just how
big
this monster is!”
she replied, returning with a tin ruler. Her frenzied hand pumped
the penile shaft in utter awe, until full erection had been
achieved, whereupon she aligned the rule to it…

“Holy
shit!
” she profaned.

My penis, now fully invigorated, slightly
exceeded the rule’s maximum length.

It was a twelve-inch rule.

Ammi went all in a frenzy
now, retrieving something else from the armoire and then returning
to the bed to boldly straddle me with her bare hips. “No more
fooling around,” she determined, opening a modest foil package.
“For every minute that this gorgeous cock isn’t buried in my bush,
that’s a minute of
horrible
waste!”

“What’s that… you’ve got there?” I asked, my
eyes asquint.

“Don’t want to put a bun in little Ammi’s
oven, do you?”

The frail, flavescent
object in her hands was a barrier prophylactic, one of the newer
Latex versions by its look. I could hardly object to its
non-prescriptive and, hence,
illegal
utility here, as
prostitution was no
less
illegal.

Ammi’s face turned
flustered, and, again, she profaned, “Shit, your cock’s so big, I
hope it doesn’t
bust
the goddamn thing!”

My frown was all-too
quick. “Ammi, if I may? Profanity does your demeanour
precious little
justice.”

She squinted at me.
“The
fuck?
” and
then she carefully rolled the prophylactic all the way down my
penile shaft.

“
Now
we’re talkin’,” she gasped with
a smile after essentially sitting on my erection and licensing it
full entry into her womanly channel. “God—yeah, oh,
fuck
that’s good…
All
the way in,
yeah!
All
the way
in!”

The sensations were
admittedly quite pleasing but I’m afraid Ammi’s vandalism of the
English language and her crude, splayed-legged pelvic locomotions
left much to be desired. At one point she reached behind herself
and cosseted my scrotal sack, only to further profane, “For fuck’s
sake, mister. Even your
balls
are huge! They feel like something in the
goddamned
hen house!
”

Indeed.

Her copulative motions
accelerated, hands on knees as she continued to
pound
her loins upon my phallus. As
she tended to the act, I, instead, surveyed more of the room’s
splendid features. The elaborate wainscoting was absolutely
fabulous (more of the Georgian Period) while the wall-coverings
couldn’t have pleased me more: herringbone patterns of gold and
vermillion. When I craned my neck to examine a considerable oil
landscape on the wall, I had to request, “Pardon me, Ammi, but
would you know if that formidable painting there is an original
Turner? It seems to be.”

Her lust-pinkened face
smoldered. “Shut
up!
We’re doing
this
 now!
This!
Shit
on the goddamn painting!” Sweat
beaded on her face and misted her bosom. “With my luck you’ll be
one of these guys who gets off in a minute…”

Hmmm,
 I considered.

In not one but
twenty
minutes’
time, Ammi was balloon-cheeked and shrieking in
an undisputable ecstatic bliss. The purse of her womanhood spasmed
desperately about the stiff meat of my sexual organ; I dare say, it
seemed to squirm in time with her rising shrieks. When she’d had
her protracted moment, her head wobbled on her neck, and she sidled
over on the priceless bed, tongue hanging. Fast-breath’d, she
grinned lazily. “That was the best fuck of my life…,” and after a
few more moments of recapturing her wind, she manipulated herself
around, to look flabbergasted at my still-stiff-as-a-baker’s-pin
penis.

“Did you come?”

I elevated a brow. “If by that you mean did
I experience an ejaculatory release and sequent orgasm? No.”

“Wait right there!” she
exclaimed and abruptly roused. She stalked, if a bit painfully,
toward the ornate door but stopped to point absurdly at my erected
member. “And don’t let
that
go away!”

Oh, for goodness
sake!
Where did she expect my penis
to
go?
After
she’d made her exit, I felt
ridiculous
lying there with my
trousers down and a rubber-sheathed erection throbbing. Where could
she be off to?

And I mustn’t forget to show her Selina’s
photo…

Ammi’s return brought four
more women into the room: two svelte blondes, a lissome brunette,
and a fox-eyed coif-headed waif with raving auburn hair and
a
monumental
mammarian endowment.

“Good
God!
” one croaked, eyeing
me.

“She wasn’t lying!” excited another.

The auburn-head seemed
locked in a rigor. “Is that…
real?
”

It was one of the blondes
that lunged before the others and asserted, “This guy may be able
to out-fuck Ammi, but he ain’t gonna out-fuck
me,
and that’s just as sure as pigs
can
shit!
”

The language
absolutely
appalled
me.

It was a rather monotonous
foray which ensued; four more giddy naked women clucking over my
genitals like great-grandams over knickknacks. One by one they
punctured themselves on my stiffened-to-numbness erection, shrilly
giggling in betwixt moans, gasps, and outright shrieks of
lascivious liberation. Musky aromas swam about the chamber,
accompanied by a rapid, wet
clicking;
sweating bellies sucked
inward and out; eyes rolled up in sockets and tongues jutted;
crystalline sweat dripped off tumid nipples. They rode me like some
brute beast of sexual burden (which reminded me, quite regrettably,
of my ex-wife). It was that second blonde, ostensibly the dominant
of t
he five, who banged my penis to the
proverbial hilt in a screaming, staccato madness fit for some
carnal chasm in Dore’s
Inferno,
and after achieving a head-whipping crisis, she
leeringly lifted her pelvis off my member and without abatement,
then, inserted said member into what I can only think to describe
as a more
netherly
orifice.

“Right up my butt now, Mr.
Big Dick,” she guttered. “Just the way I
like
it!”

It unnerved me, needless to say, to know
that I had been hoodwinked into performing the forbidden and
historically blasphemous act so named for the ancient city of
iniquity, Sodom. The sluttish woman’s squat strained wider,
affording me an all-too-precise view; and the ease with which she
was able to admit the full depth and width of my member into this
alternate and most uncomely cavity left me to conjecture that she
was hardly a stranger to the act. She chuckled at my gape, then
pressed two fingers to either side of her clitoral bulb, to isolate
the mysterious nerve cluster. I visibly gulped, noting its size:
nearly that of an avocado pit!

“Ammi likes to eat a box,”
she grated, “so she can get her little fuck-face over here and
eat
this
one!”
whereupon she grabbed the wickedly grinning Ammi by a crude fistful
of coppery hair and shoved her face into the tensely splayed
crotch. Ammi’s mouth squandered no time whatever in ministering as
directed. The activity begat a sound like an animal
nursing.

“Fuck!” the blonde
grunted. “This guy’s tallywhacker is so big it’s punching my
goddamn
stomach!”

All the girls shrieked laughter at the
remark.

Between the sensation of
my organ buried in her bowel and that of Ammi’s tending oration,
the blonde soon became a veritable dervish of flesh as once again
she clenched and shivered, and then was wracked by another clearly
thoroughgoing orgasmic salvo. And though I’ll admit that the much
more precise purchase of the act of sodomy rendered some pleasing
sensations to myself, I was now quite lost in an unfathomable
ennui. Women could be so
silly
sometimes, could they not? I forced my mind to
focus on the task of letting nature, however contorted, take its
course, and was grateful to then deliver the viscid proof of my own
crisis into the prophylactic.

Finally!

“Fuck,” the blonde moaned
only to sidle over as if narcolyzed. Ammi giggled, wiping her
sheened mouth. “Mister,” she said to me, “you just fucked
five
whores
to
kingdom come!”

The remark, which I supposed was a
compliment, left me inwardly very weary. “Well, Ammi, ladies. That
was, uh, quite nice but I think I’ll bid my adieu now and repair to
the atrium.” I frowned at the sullied condom on my now-slackening
penis. “But I’d best get rid of this thing first…”

I prepared to remove the
vulgar sheath, but then Ammi reached forward, strangely as if in
alarm. “No, no!” she shrilled. “I’ll take care of that! After all,
it’s, uh… it’s my job,” and with
that
curious comment, she gingerly
removed the soiled vulcanized barrier.

Then, even more curiously, she held the
thing out, suspended from her fingertips, for all to see, and in an
excited squeal, said, “Girls! Look at this!”