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Authors: Steve Lowe
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She wants to be a TV star. She’s expecting something to happen. She’s waiting for me to do it. She already knows it’s coming, she said so herself. So what the fuck is my problem?
Probably, I don’t have any fucking desire to punch a woman, that’s what. Shit. I need another drink.
No, this is it. Just punch this chick already.
OK. Here goes. This time for sure.
I raise my right fist. I try not to think about Uncle Lefty and his missing hand. I close my eyes and swing.
“Ah, there you are,” Pauline says. “I was wondering if you fell asleep back there.”
Nothing happens. Did I not hit her hard enough?
“Come on, I thought you were a tough guy,” she says. “That all you got?”
She’s looking back over her shoulder with a mocking smirk. Apparently my rough stuff is not very rough at all. I swing again, a little harder, and with my eyes open this time. I connect just below her ribcage, which is quite visible through her skin, like I’m fucking a skeleton covered in a sheet. This time I feel something, a tightening of her asshole. It sends a tiny electric shock through me.
“Yeah, now we’re talking,” she says. “Come on hardass, hit me.”
So I do. She squeezes me tighter.
“Yeah! Again!”
And I do, again, harder.
And again. She’s backing into me in earnest now and I wonder if she has any nerve endings at all in her rectum, or if perhaps she’d had a pneumatic tube installed back there at some point. Each blow results in a tighter squeeze and it actually starts to feel pretty incredible, even with three rubbers on.
I hit her three more times, a quick boxing combo of left-right-left and her body shudders and her asshole clamps down hard on my shaft.
“Come on, motherfucker!” She sounds angry now, but she continues to ram her sharp pelvic bones into my hips. “Let’s go, bitch!”
I’m getting close now. Time to finish this shit like Mortal Kombat. I raise both fists and bring the pain. Two perfectly placed shots to the kidneys. The Double Hammer Fist. Game over, motherfucker.
Pauline chokes on a scream and falls forward. At the same instant, her asshole collapses around my dick like a submarine reaching hull-crush depth. Total rectal implosion. As she pitches away from me, I discover why three condoms at one time was not actually a good idea. Pauline’s rectal muscles have clearly been worked out often over the years and developed impressively. Not only does her clamp-down and roll-out maneuver result in an explosion from me, she takes all three of my rubbers with her. My cock looks like a sausage being pulled from its casing.
Pauline turns on me fast and I realize that, oops, maybe that last shot was a bit too much. She’s got the eye of the tiger when she turns around and comes for me, anger etched on her worn face. But that’s not all that’s on her face.
Once the floodgates are open, it’s a bit hard to stop them. Pauline comes for me, but I come for her first. It’s a magnificent arc, a money shot worthy of one of Peter Oh’Tool’s Woodys for Best Facial of the Year. The timing is amazing.
Poor Pauline is blind. She jerks her head back, squinting against the shot she just took right between the eyes. She reaches for me, but I’m already off the bed and backpedaling for the door.
“Aw, you mother…”
She scrambles off the bed and lunges blindly forward, right into the dresser.
Ouch, that had to hurt. The sound of knee against cheap Sauder furniture is like a rifle report.
“OW! FUCK!”
Pauline grabs her right leg and pulls it toward her chest, hopping in place. Her free hand wipes at my semen in her eyes. My triple stack of rubbers dangles from her butt cheeks. She turns and hops toward me, waving her sticky hand in the air, grasping for something to pummel.
“ARRRR! You sorry motherfucker,” she says. “If you’re still here, you’re a dead man!”
And that’s my cue to scram.
The Angry Pirate
I listen at the door. In the
Probably, I don’t have any fucking desire to punch a woman, that’s what. Shit. I need another drink.
No, this is it. Just punch this chick already.
OK. Here goes. This time for sure.
I raise my right fist. I try not to think about Uncle Lefty and his missing hand. I close my eyes and swing.
“Ah, there you are,” Pauline says. “I was wondering if you fell asleep back there.”
Nothing happens. Did I not hit her hard enough?
“Come on, I thought you were a tough guy,” she says. “That all you got?”
She’s looking back over her shoulder with a mocking smirk. Apparently my rough stuff is not very rough at all. I swing again, a little harder, and with my eyes open this time. I connect just below her ribcage, which is quite visible through her skin, like I’m fucking a skeleton covered in a sheet. This time I feel something, a tightening of her asshole. It sends a tiny electric shock through me.
“Yeah, now we’re talking,” she says. “Come on hardass, hit me.”
So I do. She squeezes me tighter.
“Yeah! Again!”
And I do, again, harder.
And again. She’s backing into me in earnest now and I wonder if she has any nerve endings at all in her rectum, or if perhaps she’d had a pneumatic tube installed back there at some point. Each blow results in a tighter squeeze and it actually starts to feel pretty incredible, even with three rubbers on.
I hit her three more times, a quick boxing combo of left-right-left and her body shudders and her asshole clamps down hard on my shaft.
“Come on, motherfucker!” She sounds angry now, but she continues to ram her sharp pelvic bones into my hips. “Let’s go, bitch!”
I’m getting close now. Time to finish this shit like Mortal Kombat. I raise both fists and bring the pain. Two perfectly placed shots to the kidneys. The Double Hammer Fist. Game over, motherfucker.
Pauline chokes on a scream and falls forward. At the same instant, her asshole collapses around my dick like a submarine reaching hull-crush depth. Total rectal implosion. As she pitches away from me, I discover why three condoms at one time was not actually a good idea. Pauline’s rectal muscles have clearly been worked out often over the years and developed impressively. Not only does her clamp-down and roll-out maneuver result in an explosion from me, she takes all three of my rubbers with her. My cock looks like a sausage being pulled from its casing.
Pauline turns on me fast and I realize that, oops, maybe that last shot was a bit too much. She’s got the eye of the tiger when she turns around and comes for me, anger etched on her worn face. But that’s not all that’s on her face.
Once the floodgates are open, it’s a bit hard to stop them. Pauline comes for me, but I come for her first. It’s a magnificent arc, a money shot worthy of one of Peter Oh’Tool’s Woodys for Best Facial of the Year. The timing is amazing.
Poor Pauline is blind. She jerks her head back, squinting against the shot she just took right between the eyes. She reaches for me, but I’m already off the bed and backpedaling for the door.
“Aw, you mother…”
She scrambles off the bed and lunges blindly forward, right into the dresser.
Ouch, that had to hurt. The sound of knee against cheap Sauder furniture is like a rifle report.
“OW! FUCK!”
Pauline grabs her right leg and pulls it toward her chest, hopping in place. Her free hand wipes at my semen in her eyes. My triple stack of rubbers dangles from her butt cheeks. She turns and hops toward me, waving her sticky hand in the air, grasping for something to pummel.
“ARRRR! You sorry motherfucker,” she says. “If you’re still here, you’re a dead man!”
And that’s my cue to scram.
The Angry Pirate
I listen at the door. In the
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