The Storm (III)

As they moved down the stairwell, James stared at the two asses in front of him, the butt plugs sticking out, moving with each step. They walked gingerly. He could see the huge toys ease themselves out as they made their way from stair to stair, and ease themselves back in as they alternated steps. They were both struggling hard to contain themselves, as was he. He instinctively reached for his swollen cock and stroked it, watching both girls struggle with their asses filled to the brim. He could hear gunshots through the walls of the building, at least a couple of blocks away. But this couldn’t tear his eyes from the pair of asses in front of him. He had to stop.

He needed to fuck them. Now.

He reached forward, and grabbed Johannah by her long blonde hair, pulling her head back. She bent backwards, opening her mouth, and he aggressively met her lips with his, searching her mouth with his tongue. The brunette stopped, walked up a step, and pushed her body against his, from behind, reaching around and grabbing his hefty, throbbing cock. He bent Johannah over the siderails of the step and she lifted one leg up two stairs, so she was straddling the steps, her legs open wide. The clear plastic butt plug rose from her asshole like a lighthouse, a beam of light calling him to her wet, pink cave. The brunette stroked him from behind, pushed him gently towards the blonde goddess, and guided him inside her wetness. As he entered, his entire body shuddered and for a moment, he thought he would black out. Johannah let out a large, gutteral moan that echoed off the six story stairwell. He began to move back in forth in her, reveling in her warmth and juice. Her moans turned quickly to primordial grunts and screams, a barely recognizable rasp of Fuck me! Fuck my fucking pussy!, a mantra of pure, unadulterated lust, the Storm ripping through her body, her entire being reduced to one single thing: that thick, eight-inch cock filling her cunt.

The brunette. She stood behind him, her breasts and body pressed tightly against him, and whispered into his ear, a steady stream of filth.

“You like to fuck that little blonde pussy, don’t you,” she purred into his ear. “You want to feel that fucking cunt on your hot, thick cock? Fuck her. Fuck her good. Fuck her with that fucking cock. Make her cum all over your cock.” It was relentless, her whispers. Her lips tickled the side of his neck, behind his ear, and despite the sweltering 100-plus degree heat, he got chills.

The brunette’s name was Brady. She was the owner of a Chelsea art gallery, prone to wearing the latest in fashion and fitting in with all the beautiful, elite women of Manhattan. She was good friends with Johannah, whom introduced her to James after three days into the first Storm. She was sucking his cock before he had even had a chance to ask her name. She was tall and beautiful, with fine-chiseled features, constantly wearing hoop earrings that accented her almost perfect face. Since the first Storm, she had been by his side, with Johannah, each of them reveling in their juices.

“You want me to suck her butt plug?” She whispered into his ear. “Do want to watch me suck her ass juice off that big butt plug?” She didn’t wait for an answer, reaching around him as he moved his cock in and out of Johannah’s wet pussy, and grabbing the huge anal toy by its clear plastic base. She slowly eased it from the blonde’s tight butthole. As the main girth of the toy reached her starfish, he could feel it through her muscles and he looked at the stretched asshole with intense awe. Brady paused to let him admire it and it felt as if his cock was getting even harder inside the blonde’s body. She then pulled it slowly out, leaving Johannah’s asshole gaping and throbbing, as if it was literally screaming to be filled again. And just as quickly, her ass muscles contracted and the gaping hole closed in on itself, leaving the puckered pink starfish shining in satisfaction.

Brady grabbed his face by the chin and turned him towards her aggressively. His hands held Johannah tightly by the hips and he thrust harder and harder.

“Watch me,” Brady commanded.

She took the clear plastic butt plug, which was dripping in Johannah’s sweat and ass juice and ran her tongue over it, licking the part that was just moments ago inside the asshole of her girlfriend. She then opened her mouth and inserted it, moving it in and out of her throat like a cock. He was about to explode. She pulled it out and whispered into his ear.

“I want you to cum on my face while I suck her ass juice off this butt plug. I want you to do it now. NOW.”

Brady dropped to her knees and began sucking the butt plug, moving it and out of her mouth, running her pink tongue over it. He slapped Johannah on the ass and pulled his cock out, turning towards Brady. She looked magnificent: her hair caked in cum, her naked body dripping in sweat, her long, red-nailed fingers moving the butt plug in and out of her mouth. Johannah moved around and crouched beside her girlfriend. He stood their in admiration, in awe of these two goddesses and humbled in the face of the Storm and stroked his thick, throbbing, aching tool. A huge, impossibly forceful load of cum shot out of his cock directly onto Brady’s ass toy sucking face, covering her eyes and cheeks and mouth, dripping from the plug itself onto the floor, which Johannah bent down and licked up with her tongue. Brady removed the cum-covered butt plug, his white spunk dripping down the bridge of her nose from between her eyes and forehead, and as Johannah bent down to lick the spent juice from the floor, she reinserted the plastic plug into the blondes asshole. The cum acted as a lubricant and it slipped write in, causing Johannah to flinch, but not stop.

He stood up, readjusted the M-16, and watched. This, he thought, was something he would not give up without a fight.