Choose Your Poison – Courtesy Of The Ripper

[whthole4u]

Choose Your Poison – Courtesy of The Ripper: Part 1 - It hurt to piss. Burned like a little branding iron being shoved up inside my dick slit. My ass felt like glass shards were coming out when I had to go and my entire abdomen felt swollen, tender, and full. He said it would. He said I would come home pregnant with their gifts. He said, “You better be careful what you wish for.” Happy Holidays full of dirty gifts.

 

The holiday season had arrived, but I wasn’t feeling very joyful. Usually finding a good, raw top perked me right up yet lately, that was not doing it for me either. When raw sex was being ‘implied’/shown on mainstream TV and Netflix shows and almost every other ad on the cruise sites was a top who had ‘Negative on Prep’ in their profile, being a bug chasing cum pig just was not the taboo rush that is used to be. Fuck I needed some charged up dick.

 

In boredom, or more honestly pure desperation, I started to scan personal ads in other cities. While part of me said that desperate, the bug pig in me said I needed a vacation anyways so I might as well go someplace new and try my luck. Hundreds of ads later in a couple different cities and nothing had yet appealed me, that is until I saw the headline, “Seeking a Gangbang Creampie Princess For Anonymous, Public, Raw Breeding.” Holy fuck – that sounded hot as shit!

 

I read the ad several times and started fondling myself as my dick got hard just thinking about the set up. In brief the guy was looking for:

“…a submissive pussy who will take ANY dick in any hole – NO QUESTIONS ASKED OR ANSWERED…”

“ …RAW is mandatory….”

“…ANONYMOUS breedings and PUBLIC action (bookstores, car, parking garage, alley, parks) REQUIRED…..”

“…must be a FREAK and NASTY…”

“…TABOO, PERVERTED, EXTREME, …”

 

Oh fuck my ass was wet just reading it. Best of all was the dude’s stats:

“…looks don’t matter – yours or mine – all that counts is what will leave you sore – my 10+ inch dick and don’t bother contacting me unless you KNOW you can take it all ….”

 

OK, clearly this guy lived and played on the wild side, and if he was real – which was a big IF given all the fakes and players online – he was dipping and slinging in some nasty shit. Even better, it was raw and no mention of status and Prep, which often means someone is POZ, does not know, or does not care one way or the other. My kind of man! The one hitch? His ad was in a straight section, but he did not say only females specifically and noted he was looking for “couples and singles”, so what the hell. I quickly typed my email to him before I lost my nerve – or hard on – starting with, “I mean no offense, but…” and then in brief told him I was planning some vacation time to his city and based on his ad, seemed like he knew the places to find the nastiest dick and could he help? In truth, I didn’t really expect to hear back.

 

That night when I got home from work I anxiously scanned my email. Nothing. Same the next. On the third night however there was a response:

“hey faggot gurl – I only deal with the serious who will submit to a cash MASTER. Send $100 by 6:00 p.m. tonight via MoneyGram. Details below and once sent, text the confirmation number.

-       The Ripper”

 

Damn! Or maybe YEAH?! Well, no risk no reward and I was willing to gamble so I sent the $100 as ordered and anxiously checked my email for the next two hours hoping I would hear back. I knew he had my money as MoneyGram confirmed it was picked up at 6:10 pm, so I waited, and waited. Finally my In Box chimed – new mail!

 

“Good faggot. At least you know how to obey. For me to consider if you are worth my time, send me an email telling me exactly what you want from MASTER. You said you want nasty dick. Well I fucking got that but I ain’t called The Ripper for nothing. That boy pussy will get shredded. Pay-to-play, but trust, you’ll be satisfied. If you want more, I want to hear that too. Tell me everything. Tell me every freaky shit, fucked up, whore faggot thing you want to do and send me confirmation that you have bought plane tickets here and booked a hotel. I ain’t wasting my time if it ain’t real time.

- The Ripper”

 

Oh my God! I jacked off right then in my chair at the dining room table as I reread his email. I then wiped up my mess, quickly got online, booked a flight and hotel, and responded back. My ass was thinking for the rest of me for sure, but the potential of what he was offering was too fucking good to ignore. Not 10 minutes after sending the confirmations of my travel, I had a response:

 

“What the fuck? I said to tell me the freaky and fucked up shit you want to do. I thought you wanted nasty? You send me some tripe that’s all vanilla sweater-queen fag shit. Be real. I want it honest. Last chance or that gurl pussy can keep on scoping and hunting and being a desperate mutt hole. Because you must be stupid, use the checklist below too.

- The Ripper”

 

Fuck. I guess he had a point. I’m so used to filtering my dirty-inner-self so I went balls to the wall and let it all out. First I used his checklist, which was like some Dr. Frankenstein shit asking stuff like:

1.     “What STDs have you had? Have now? Want?”

2.     “How many POZ dicks you taken? How many AIDs dicks (and if you don’t know the difference, don’t bothering responding)?”

3.     “How many raw dicks have you taken in the past two weeks?”

4.     “How many strangers have fucked where you never saw their face?”

5.     “What’s he wildest place you ever got fucked?”

6.     “Do you have ANY limits?”

 

OK, this dude took his shit serious and while sort of creepy, again I was so fucking turned on I had to jack off. One perverted checklist and taboo laden email later, it was time to crash. My mind was not focused on work the next day as I kept thinking about The Ripper, and wild fantasy fucks. Shit like this does not happen in real life so I might as well not get my hopes up. Yet, when I got home his email was waiting:

 

“Good faggot. I don’t lime limits so you may just be fucked up and freaky-ass-nasty enough for a taste. You ready for some monster AIDs dick? I got you. You ready to get seeded deep by some total strangers with buggy dicks? I got you? You ready to bend over and let some other dudes watch as infected cum creampies that hole? I got you. You want to be treated like the fag-gurl-pussy-cunt-dick-craving-fuck-hole-mutt that you are? You will be. Send me your cell number again and hit the ATM and let me know how much you willing to spend when you arrive. Like I said, this is pay-to-play and if you got the cash The Ripper can make ANY-TABOO-FUCKING-NASTY-THING happen.

- The Ripper”

 

Oh hell! I was fucking flipping out thinking about that shit. Some of the things I had written down, well not stuff I would normally share I guess, but fucking Christ – this dude sounds like he can provide so what the hell.

 

The next 10 days I spent in wild anticipation of what may come. I sent several more emails asking questions because I was nervous as fuck and wanted some reassurance I was not wasting my time and money and received no response. But, the day before I left I got a FedEx package with a DVD and a note that said, “Hey faggot gurl – here’s a taste of what I got in store for you.” I was shaking as I put the DVD in and hit PLAY. Immediately the screen was filled with white ass taking a monster black dick. The white guy was hunched over and it was hard to see more, but the black guy was really vocal, “Gonna breed that pussy with my babies, tell me you want that raw dick, tell me you want that raw nutt, come on now, let me hear you FUCKING BEG FOR THAT DICK!”

 

Jesus I was in pig heaven. I jacked my dick hard watching the scenes play out. Clearly this was not all The Ripper as there were black guys, white guys, Hispanic, and other, but every fuck was raw, wild, nasty, and extreme for sure. In my horniness I almost missed it, but the last 30 seconds of the DVD was an audio message in a deep, masculine voice, that played against a screen of shadows with faint grunts in the background:

“When you land, go to the front end of the TAXI LINE in the pickup zone, pull out your cell, call the number on the screen, and wait. You will be picked up. Then go the address below and ask for Giovanni. DO NOT go to your hotel first. Have $200 in $20 bills in your back left pocket. Make sure that gurl pussy is shaved – clean and soft – because it WILL get owned and abused. No facial hair either. You ready to get owned, used, and abused by The Ripper? You ready for some dirty dick and bug chasing you mutt pussy? You ready for what I got in store?”

 

In the silence that followed only one word kept coming to mind – YES!!

[sam_puppy]

So fucking good as always your writing style and subject matter get me so horny

[adamlincs]

fuckin hot i wanna hear more!

[whorepig]

Damn we are off to a good start here

[youngvertight]

fuck i wana hear more got solid right away

[pozpopperpig]

Fucking HOT HOT HOT!   Can't wait to read more!

[Hellboy]

Fucken hot dude

[AlwaysOpen]

Dear Santa-- I have been such a pig slut this year, and probably won't get shit from you anyway, but if you could squeeze WhtHole hard  and get a story out of him for my Christmas nutt...

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Fuck!! Santa DOES exist !!!

[whthole4u]

Choose Your Poison: Part 2 - The next morning, per Ripper’s instructions, I was up early as I had never shaved myself down there and fuck it took longer than expected and I had to even hit the internet to search for some tips on how to do it. I was finally ready to go and a short cab ride later was at the airport making my way to the gate for what may come. My mind was muddled. My ass was twitching. My guts were crying out for dirty cum. The plane was boarding, there was no going back now and 90 minutes later we touched down and I resolved myself to relish every nasty drop I could get.

 

I was fidgeting like hell as the line for the Yellow Cabs slowly snaked along. I had texted the number Ripper had given me and had been waiting for almost 20 minutes. Hell I could have gotten a taxi and been there by now. I was rubbing my hands and stamping my feet to get them warm again when a Yellow Cab zoomed into the front of the line cutting off one who was pulling out. Horns blared, people yelled and waved. The car pulled up in front of me, the window rolled down and a tsunami of smoke poured out onto the sidewalk. “Hey man,” the driver with long dreads said as he leaned towards the open window, “Rip sent me. Get in.” The trunk unlatched, I walked to the back and set my suitcase in amongst the trash and boxes of God knew what, then climbed into the back, sliding onto a seat sticky and dirty, stepping on more trash on the floor, and taking one last breath of fresh air before closing the door. After kicking some of the fast food litter to the side, I fished the paper out of my pocket and told the driver where I was supposed to go. The dude just snorted, the car lurched, and off we went.

 

We had barely left the airport when my taxi barreled off the road and careened into a gas station. The driver looked at me through the window between the seats and said, “Give me a $20, need to top the tank – old Charlotte’s here and mine. Better make it $40.” Luckily I had extra cash on me so fished out the money and watched as he got out, spit a few times, hacked, cleared his lungs and proceeded about his business. I took the time to look around the car. Clearly this was no regular Yellow Cab. It might be painted Yellow and looked like it had been a cab at one time, but it’s day of taxi service were in the past as there was no meter and I could not imagine anyone using such a dirty vehicle for a regular taxi. The driver finished pumping the gas, ran in to pay, came back a minute later with a bag and hopped back in the front. The car started, lurched, the gears caught and we started to leave – so I thought – but instead of pulling back out onto the road, he veered right and the car partially slid around the side of the building as he drove towards the side and back of the parking lot. He parked, rummaged around, and with the car still running turned and said, “Get up here a minute.” I wasn’t sure what was up, but climbed out the back, looked closer at the car and decided it was definitely no regular taxi as it did not even have a light, just a hole in the roof with some tore up tape over it where the light used to be, then opened the front passenger door and got in.

 

The crap that was in the front seat the driver was now sorting and then tossing through the window into the back. Once done he said, “Clean my dirty dick off,” as he unbuckled his pants and shimmied them down his thighs a little. I felt dizzy from the heat in the car and the rank smell coming off him. The driver settled back down, and lifted his arms up with a smoke in his right hand that alternated with his left as he fed himself from a bag chips on the dashboard.  I tried to get to his dick, but between the steering wheel and the seat that did not seem to slide back, it was damn awkward and I could not make it work.

 

“Fucking hell,” the driver said. He knocked his bag of chips to the side, put the smoke between his teeth, shimmied his pants back up and with the car still running got out, opened the back door, and climbed into the back. “What the fuck you waiting for? Get back here.” I climbed back out and into the backseat with him and by the time I closed the door his pants were down again, his head back as he exhaled, and his left hand wanking his dick to full hardness. I nervously looked around as it was broad daylight but between the steamy windows and where we were parked, did not appear anyone could see us. I now got a good look at his dick. It was uncut, about 9 inches, nice thickness, had a number of larger bumps on the head and shaft, and strings of white slime around the head and sticking to the foreskin. He reached out and guided my head towards his dick, “Some dudes say their warts make their cocks feel numb, not mine. Rip said you wanted to taste some rank, so put that mouth down there and clean off my dick. I have not washed it in about a week now – just for you dirty slut.”

 

My pig-tendencies overrode all common sense and before I knew it I was moaning in pleasure as I tongued and bathed his infected dick with my lips and mouth. His dick was hard and eager for the attention and as I cupped his full and hairy, hard balls, he stroked my head and face enjoying the affection. “GET YOUR MOUTH DEEP DOWN THAT COCK YOU CUM CATCHER…OPEN THOSE PINK LIPS…..I DON’T WANT TO SEE A CHUNK OF MY CHEESE SLIP OUT….OPEN YOUR MOUTH, THAT’S IT, SQUEEZE MY BALLS JUST A LITTLE…MORE…MORE…FUCK….” The driver’s hot cum flooded my mouth and throat and I had to fight to take it all and swallow it and felt like a chipmunk with a mouth full of acorns. It tasted like curdled milk, with a tang of herb seasoning, and I wanted more. “No, no, no more right now. Give me your scarf.” I sat still as he tied it around my eyes and made a knot – tight- at the back of my head. What, was I not allowed to see where we drove?

 

“Get your pants off and put your ass towards the door,” the driver said as I heard him pull his up, shuffle some things, then get out and close the door. The quick blast of cold air had made my dick shrivel and goose bumps pop out on my thighs, but I did as I was told, hoping he was going to fuck me now. I was half on the back seat with my left leg kneeling on it, leaning forward on my arms when the door behind me opened and a different voice said, “Scoot the hell up. Fuck it’s cold out.” I flinched and jumped as a cold hand rubbed my ass and was tempted to take the scarf off and see who it was when the front door open, the driver got in, and said, “Come on man, I told you, you need to be quick. You know Rip and this ain’t on the schedule, but I owed you so now we’re even.”

 

My hole was resisting the finger prodding hard at it, flinching at the sharp nail and insistence, “I am, fuck this hole is tight,” the new passenger said, “I’ve been rubbing and jacking my meat since you first got here just waiting. Come on now, how about a little privacy.” The driver laughed, “Fuck that, I plan to watch, so deal with it. You taking it or not?” The guy mumbled, he pushed me forward a little more, his cold pants rubbing against my ass as he slid his hard dick up and down my crack trying to find the right angle in the back seat. “Here’s some Soy Sauce,” the driver said. I shivered as I felt the cold liquid squirt onto my hole, the guy sighed, then grunted and pushed and POPPED through my ass ring. My head was wedged into the corner of the seat and door now as the other guy fought to keep his dick in, grunted, pushed, fucked my hole, and used me.

 

The driver chimed in, “Go on man, blow that dirty cum in that ass.” The new passenger fucked harder and adjusted himself again. My right hand scrambled up the side of the window and I found that little handle that hangs down to help people get in and out of the back seat and grabbed onto it trying to keep my face from banging against the glass. “YOU WANT THIS CUM UP THAT SHITTER….TRYING TO CATCH MY NUTT.. .HELL THIS IS GOOD QUEER PUSSY…” the fucker said as he picked up his pace. “Cum in me,” I begged, “Give me some dirty cum, I want it all,  please fuck me, fuck me,” I cried out.  The new passenger stiffened, grunted, my head hit the window hard, and his dick goo slid up inside me. Panting a bit from the heat in the car and the workout, he slid out of me, sat back on the seat, shuffled around to get his pants up and said to the driver, “Fuck damn I needed that,” and then left the car. The driver laughed, “Alright you cum slut. Not a word about this extra minute we took here understand me? That’s between you and me – well you and him too I guess now – fucking hell. Get dressed, we got to get back on schedule.”

 

The taxi belched fumes into the cold morning air as we proceeded on our way and I managed to get back into my clothes as the taxi swerved in and out of traffic. About 25 minutes later we pulled up in front a deli/sandwich shop with a green, white, and red striped awning. The driver turned his head, “I’ll be here when you’re done.” I got out of the car, adjusted my clothes, and went to the front door. The deli did not seem to be open yet and the door was locked, so I stood and waited a minute not sure what to do. I turned at the blare of a horn and the taxi driver had rolled down the window a bit, smoke mixing with the brisk air, “FUCKING KNOCK…KNOCK!!” he yelled. I knocked on the front door, the glass rattled, I knocked some more and a shadow exited the back and came towards the front.

 

“We’re closed. Come back in 30 minutes,” the small, slightly bent woman hollered through the glass. She started to walk away so I knocked again and yelled, “I’M LOOKING FOR GIOVANNI, I WAS TOLD TO MEET HIM HERE.” She just shook her head and I could hear her mumbling as she started back towards the rear of the deli. Fuck, what do I do now. I then heard voices raised and saw a new shadow emerge from the back. The tall, lanky guy came to the glass door, undid the locks and opened it as the woman in the back continued to holler. “MAMA I GOT THIS! NO, NO. MAMA….UGHHH…I’LL BE BACK IN A BIT.”

 

“Giovanni?” I asked. The tall Italian guy gave me a nervous glance, cocked his head, brushed past me and said, “Come on.” He walked towards the right, opened a door about 5 feet down, stepped in and held it for me. He then started up the stairs without a word and I guess I was meant to follow. Up on the third floor he walked to the back of the building, fumbled with a large set of keys on a key ring, opened the door, cocked his head, and I stepped inside the small room. It was a small apartment with a tiny little kitchen area, a small bed, a bathroom I could see through the missing door, a beat up wood table and two chairs and not much else.

 

“You got my money,” Giovanni asked. I was not sure how much he expected or what the plan was and as I paused he interrupted my thoughts and said, “Look. I ain’t got all fucking day. It’s $50 to stroke my load out. $100 to suck me off. But if you want to get my AIDs cum right, it’s $200 cash up front, I fuck to nutt, and I need to prep you a bit first.” Prep me? What the fuck did he mean by that? My hole was clean, I was sure of that. I fished into my back pocket, pulled out the stack of bills, handed him the $200, he counted, nodded, and proceeded to start to undo his pants as he walked into the bathroom. I heard him fumble around in a cabinet and as he got whatever he needed he said, “Get naked and lay on the bed. On your stomach. I did as he ordered and his blanket and bedding smelled like they had not been washed in months. I turned my head to the left and craned my neck to watch him as he came out of the bathroom. He had a nice long dick swinging between his legs that was nestled in a patch of dark, curly hair. His balls looked like bright red tomatoes that had been hot flashed, stripped of their skin, bright red, raw, and angry looking.

 

Giovanni set a plastic bucket down on the floor, “Pull the pillow up under your chest a little and hang you head down the other side,” he said. I got myself adjusted, the bed creaked as he got on it and straddled me. He then lay on top of me, his t-shirt feeling itchy against my back, but the skin of his hips and legs were nice and warm and the heat from his dick as he nestled it into my ass crack was even more welcome. Giovanni then began sliding up and down my body, using my shoulders to pull himself back and forth. Each pass along my body, his dick grew, stiffened, and when it felt good and hard he reached over the side of the bed, grabbed something out of the bucket, I heard it go SQUIRT, then the sound of him lubing up. Something about the smell piqued my senses of warning, but I was too horny to care or give it more thought.

 

“PULL IT OUT! HOLY FUCK FUCK WHAT ARE YOU DOING? STOP, OH PLEASE STOP!” I cried out and whimpered. Giovanni had used his full body weight and angled himself just right so he could drop and force himself deep into my hole with one thrust. It wasn’t that so much as it felt like my ass was on fire – literally – flames tore me up on the inside and this was more than just a rough fuck. “Shut the fuck up right now or I stop and you get nothing,” Giovanni hissed. “I told you I had to prep you bit. It’s my special ‘AIDS CUM DUMP LUBE’ prep formula. My favorite lube, mixed with a little Vaseline so it does not get too wet, and to top it off some Icy-Hot muscle balm. Love how it makes my dick feel so warm and hot and even better, will make your insides raw and ready for my charged cum. Just lay there and let me get it in there good.”

 

I was crunching my face trying to keep the tears back as his Italian dick pushed that foul mix around in my ass. I gasped in relief several minutes later when he slid out and took several deep breaths to steady myself as I heard the sink in the bathroom. Thank God he was washing his dick off. “Come here,” Giovanni said. So I gently got off the bed, every step burning hot and new. In the bathroom Giovanni was standing by the sink with a Fleet enema in his hand. “Bend of over the sink,” he said, “I’m going to flush you out now. While my lube will burn your ass raw, it might also kill my dirty seed, so this way I can make sure you are prepped and primed for my AIDs cum to get you good.” I flinched as Giovanni roughly stuck the plastic tip in my ass, held it as he instructed, and flinched some more as he squirted a second bottle in.

 

“Squat over the toilet now and let it out. Let me see how primed you are.” I did as Giovanni ordered and tears came to my eyes as the watery mass came out and the heat and lube burned me more. I stood up, shaking a little, water dripping out of my hole and down my legs as Giovanni pushed me to the side a little, looked in the toiled, smiled, “Fuck yeah look at that. Nice and pink. See all that stringy-web-like stuff floating around? That’s your gut lining. Sit down again and make sure it’s all out.”

 

Giovanni’s dick was right by my face as he supervised my flush out and so I reached up to stroke it, hoping to get him to face fuck me while I finished up. “Unless you got more cash on hand, it ain’t happening,” he said, before stepping away to let me wipe dry. I then followed him back to the bed and he told me, “Get back on your stomach. Beg for my toxic load up that dirty snatch. Beg for it you fucking cum dump. Beg for my whizz juice in you.”

 

I gasped and choked back my whimpers as Giovanni forced his raw Italian dick back in my tender and blistered hole. With nothing but spit now for lube, he rough fucked hard and deep with no mercy and it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. But I begged for it. I wanted it. This was what I came for right? “GIVE ME THAT MONEY DICK ASSHOLE. COME ON FUCK IT. SHRED MY HOLE UP. I WANT YOUR AIDS LOAD MAN….GIVE ME YOUR AIDS…POZ MY ASS UP….HARDER…FUCK IT HARDER….FUCK ME…YES…THAT’S IT…FUCK ME…MAKE IT HURT MORE…” Giovanni gripped my shoulders hard and buried himself to the hilt as his balls spewed his toxic jizz into my brownfield waste dump. Giovanni gave one last shudder and twitch, yanked his dick and rolled off the bed and stood up. “GET THE FUCK UP HERE AND CLEAN MY DIRTY DICK OFF. TASTE HOW NASTY AND FUCKED UP YOUR ASS IS NOW,” Giovanni demanded. I hurried up, knelt in front of him, and started slurping my tongue up and down his shaft, hungrily lapping up his gifts. He stepped away when I started to try to suck him. “Bend back over the bed,” my Italian spermanator said, “I got one final parting gift for you since you were a good lay. Most folks try to run and push me off. You laid right there and took it like I need...I fucking like that. My load is deep, and you need to keep it in there until Rip tells you otherwise. In the meantime, this will keep those ass lips tender and sore and your love canal ripe.” I arched my back from the burn as he fingered my hole and scraped my insides with his nail. He licked his finger clean, got dressed, I started to as well but before I could get my pants pulled all the way up he grabbed my arm, twisted me, shoved two fingers dry into my wrecked hole, wiggled them back and forth and warned, “Next time I plan to slam it harder. Get ready.”

 

Back on the street Giovanni locked the door and headed to the deli. I found the taxi idling right out front and gingerly climbed into the back, grimacing and grunting as I did so, my ass burning and hurting like hell. My driver laughed at my pain and for a split second I was embarrassed that he knew what had just happened, but that quickly passed as I remembered the rank taste of his load and how nice and sleazy I felt taking his buddy’s anonymous dick. Fuck, I had not even made it to the hotel yet and I had taken three dirty dicks and some ripe poison. This trip may be more than I bargained for, but my tender ass was already twitching as I wondered what would happen next.

[deepfix]

I really hope this story continues - one of the very best on here.

[whthole4u]

Choose Your Poison: Part 3 - We had barely gone a few blocks from Giovanni’s place where he had just filled me with his Italian load of AIDs cum, before the driver pulled the old taxi over, pointed, and said, “ATM’s there. You better hit it. HARD. We’ll settle up after each round.” What did he mean by that? I groaned again getting out of the car, got more cash, climbed back in and we were off.

 

“Hey man,” I said through the window to the front seat as I leaned forward, “I don’t think this is the way to the Marriott. My cell map shows we should have turned back there.” The driver continued to smoke, and ignored me, as we got further and further away from our destination. “Sorry, I never got your name. Just, well you know, I’ve not had a chance to unpack and rest up and stuff that’s all and I’d really like to.” The old taxi skidded slightly as the driver pulled over to the curb, set the car into park, turned and said, “Look man. Rip gave me orders. I follow the fucking orders and my understanding was you would too. Right? Right. So shut the fuck up, let me drive and just continue doing as you’re fucking told.” He turned back onto the street and then said, “Don’t ask about names again. They don’t fucking matter unless Rip says so.” I shut up then and watched the city go by as we made our way to our next destination.

 

Soon I started seeing more and more rundown looking folks on the streets, which looked pretty deserted otherwise. I was getting nervous, but knew I shouldn’t. The Ripper had delivered so far and I had not even fucking made it to my hotel. Hell I had taken and tasted more toxic dick in the past few hours than I had in the past few months. So I figured I would enjoy the thrill of the risk and bug chase and the hot burning in my ass reminded me how good a dirty breeding could be.

 

The taxi slowed, the tires scraped against the curb as we pulled close to the sidewalk. I had to get out the driver’s side as there was a pole blocking the other door, and when I did, my taxi driver smiled, stamped out his smoke on the street, slapped me on the back and said, “Welcome to skid row bitch. Get your bag, let’s get in out of the fucking cold and warm up.” Even in the brisk morning air the ghosts of skid row were haunting the streets – homeless men, thieves, addicts, thugs, and those just looking for trouble or a score of one type or another. I may have been dressed a bit nicer than some, but I was the same, and my heart beat hard against my chest as my mind raced with the opportunities I could see all around me.

 

I looked up at the broken neon sign that had once said HOTEL in some forgotten color. Now, even the painted letters were faded and hard to read, so clear this place was not on any tourist map. The front door had bars on it and the glass was caked in dirt and grime with a few cracks and nicks in it and its hinges squeaked loudly as my taxi driver opened it. The echo of the door banging closed against the metal jam almost sounded like a gunshot and made me jump, making my driver laugh at me again. Fuck, I was going to make him smile for other reasons as soon as I got a chance. We stepped across the cracked tile to a plexiglass window that was almost as dirty as the outside that was situated underneath a faded sign that said FRONT DESK.

 

“YO WINSTON, WHERE YOU AT?” my driver yelled as he rapped his knuckles on the window, “COME ON MAN, GOT YOUR GUEST FOR YOU.” While we waited I looked around at the peeling wallpaper, missing light bulbs, and the shadows of the people haunting the halls, their passage marked by coughs and sighs. I was drawn back to the window as Winston slid the metal grate to the side that was on the back of the plexiglass window, planted his arms on the counter and said, “Fucking hold your horses. Christ, I heard you but I had to finish taking my shit.” From his name I expected some old man in suspenders I guess, but Winston looked about 35, with long stringy brown hair and a long beard and mustache. The dark circles under his eyes, his gaunt appearance, and the telltale tracks on his arms showed he sought extreme entertainment.

 

My driver said, “This is the fag chaser I told you about. You got the room ready next to mine? Good. I need to take Charlotte down to the shop real quick, so get him settled up. I’ll be back in 30.” With that, my driver headed out the door leaving me alone on skid row with Winston and his hotel of horrors. I reached into to my pants to get my wallet but Winston had stepped away from the counter, I heard keys jangle, then a series of locks on the door to the front desk/office turn and click. Winston stepped out into the hall, handed me a big key attached to a plastic circle that said 314. The plastic was as filthy as everything else and it looked like someone had actually chewed on it as there were clear teeth marks around the edges. “Excuse me,” I said, “Don’t you need my credit card and stuff?” Winston laughed, coughed and hacked, spit on the floor, and replied, “Fuck no. Cash only. $50 a night – for you anyways. Come on. I’ll show you to your room.”

 

Winston started to walk down the hall, I grabbed my bag and followed him into the gloom. We passed an elevator that was clearly broken along with a couple homeless looking guys who were standing beside one of the room doors, smoking, and talking in hushed whispers. One of them eyed me up and down and licked his lips, my hole twitched, he reached out and patted my ass and I stopped. My pig instincts went on high alert. “I’m not surprised Brucie’s taken a liking to you right off,” Winston said as he turned to see why I had stopped, “He’s always bragging about some suburban housewife he nailed in an alley or some shit. High classy pussy fucks – guess you qualify. Brucie, show him your dick. I bet he’ll take it for you.”

 

I nervously stepped back as right there in the dim hallway in front of Winston and the other dude, Brucie unbuckled his belt, fumbled around and undid his pants and let them drop to floor. He then pushed aside the layers of shirts and coat he was wearing and smiled as hefted a nice thick dick for me to see. Brucie then took two awkward steps towards me, his dick now hard. I set my bag down and reached out to stroke his family jewels, but Brucie just turned me around and started rubbing his hand up and down the back of my pants. I looked at Winston, who’s dark eyes now shined as he said, “Pull your pants down. Let’s see how good of a bug chaser you are.” I quickly took off my coat and tossed it onto my suitcase, then unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down as Brucie’s rough, calloused, dirty hands quickly snaked inside the back of my underwear and his finger found my hole. He spit once, twice, then shuffled a step as I bent forward and grunted as his dick popped into my tender  and juicy ass.

 

My whimpering turned Brucie on as he forced his homeless dick deeper into my sore hole. I was still throbbing from Giovanni’s tortuous fuck, but Christ, I couldn’t resist this dirty dick and it felt so God damn good. “Is that some high class pussy Brucie?” Winston asked, “It’s some freak shit pussy for sure. Hell. You’re just a nasty fuck aren’t you?” Brucie responded with a breathy, “YEESSSS,” and my reply was a series of grunts and moans as Brucie started to long dick me. The other homeless dude wanted in on the action now too and had opened his pants and leaned against the wall stroking as he watched Brucie fuck me. I side stepped a little and begged, “Please let me suck it,” so Brucie paused, turned us both to the left, and started pounding me raw again as I now slurped on a smaller, but ripe and rank dick.

 

Winston was now standing by my shoulder, jacking his dick fast, “FUCK THAT ASS BRUCIE…GIVE HIM YOUR BUG JUST LIKE YOU GAVE IT TO ME…GO ON MAN…TURN THAT HIGH CLASS PUSSY INTO STREET TRADE…YOU FUCKING NASTY AIDS FUCKER…GET VICIOUS…ROUGH THAT HOLE UP…OH FUCK I’M GETTING CLOSE...” I didn’t want any cum wasted so pulled off the dirty dick I was sucking and begged, “Please shoot it in my ass, please!!!” Winston stepped back towards my ass, Brucie yanked his dick out, I gasped, the guy I was sucking stuffed his dick back in my mouth, Winston shoved his inside me and snarled, “TAKE MY DICK YOU FUCKING TRASHY BOTTOM WHORE…TAKE IT RIGHT NOW…CUMMING UP IN THAT ASS...” Just like that I guess he was done and I had barely felt a thing. His dick was not that big and I did not feel it when he shot, but he must have and as soon as Winston pulled out, Brucie slammed back in and as he picked up his pace Winston said, “SLUT FUCK HIM BRUCIE…SLUT FUCK THAT ASS…PUSH MY CHARGED CUM UP IN THERE…TURN HIM OUT…HARDER BRUCIE…HARDER…FUCK HIM HARDER….” Brucie dug his nails into my flesh as he grabbed my hips, raised up on his toes, shuddered, and bred me. A few more strokes to mix the two loads together, then Brucie pulled out of my ass with a loud SLURP and cum and ass juice started dribbling down into my pants.

 

I pulled off the guy I was sucking, but his dick still was not fully hard and he clearly was not into fucking me as he immediately tucked it back into his pants and shuffled off a little further down the hall. Brucie was standing there, his hands out and to his sides, his dick arched, slick with charged cum, shivering. I stroked it, then turned and slid it back inside once – twice – then pulled off with a wet PLOP. “Can you go again?” I asked Brucie. He just shook his head, pulled his pants up, so I did the same. Fuck, why is it that just as my ass gets going the dicks tap out?

 

Winston interrupted me with a sigh and a short, “Come on.” I gave Brucie a nice smile who gave me a leer back and rubbed the bulge in his pants as a parting gift as I followed Winston up the rickety stairs. “Thanks man,” I said to Winston, “That was hot,” as the stairs creaked and groaned under our weight. “I was sort of worried someone might see us.” Winston shook his head, “Too early. This time of day there’s usually no one around except maybe Brucie and a bud or two. The end of the work day and after the bars close late at night is when things get crazy.”

 

At the second floor landing Winston stopped, “These are my hourly rooms. Shared bathrooms at each end of the hall. I know Booker’s got shit planned for you, but if you are ever looking for anything else, just hang out down here, you can find it – pussy, chicks with dicks, drugs, thugs, whatever your freak is. But I don’t allow trouble in here. Most everyone’s a regular, so you’ll be safe – safe enough anyways.” We went on up to the third floor, walked back toward the front of the building and he stopped in front of 314. I turned the lock, stepped in, Winston flipped the light switch and the lone, bare bulb that hung from the ceiling did little to help the dreariness.

 

“Do you know Rip?” I asked as I set my suitcase down and tossed my coat onto the old, wood chair beside the bed. “And who’s Booker?” Winston stepped into the bathroom, turned on the light, came out, “Yeah I know Rip, but I don’t talk about my customers – especially him. Booker? The guy who dropped you off. That’s what we call him. It’s one of his side hustles, he’s a bookie for the races and illegal boxing matches, and all kinds of shit that most folks try to avoid.” I couldn’t help myself and had to ask, “So is what you said true? Did Brucie give you HIV? So you’re POZ? Are you guys like together or something?” Winston looked at me, an array of emotions quickly coming and going across his face before his dark eyes settled on mine, “Oh yeah. I got kicked out of my parent’s house, ended up on the streets, Brucie was like a big brother to me. Showed me the ropes. I hustled for a while to try to pay for art college, but well, you saw, my dick’s not really big enough for that so Brucie hooked me up with some other assist and in turn he took my ass. End of story. He’s a good friend – he’s fucked up as hell – well ain’t we all – but Brucie’s got some demons and fucking potent demon seed. I still let him fuck me, hell let most anyone who wants to fuck me if they come up a bit short for their room. It works out alright. OK, enough of that. I need to get back downstairs.”

 

Winston went back into the bathroom and rapped on a door on the other wall, “This leads to Booker’s room. You guys share the bathroom.” He walked back out, “There’s a lock on your door, just turn it from the inside. Everyone up on this floor are longer term folks and like I said you’re safe enough, but it’s here if you want it. The phone doesn’t work and Booker can show you some of the corner places nearby where you can grab something to eat.” Winston then just stood there expectantly, oh right the money, so I pulled out my wallet, gave him $200 for the four nights, he looked at it, looked at me, raised his eyebrows, so I gave him $100 more. He smiled, nodded, tucked the bills into his pants and said, “You take care of me – I take care of you. Come on down if you get bored. I’m always around. Or roam the halls, I’m sure Brucie will fuck you again if you want but he’ll need some cash in return and he tends to get VERY rough so if that’ not your thing, just tell him to ease off.” I nodded, Winston left, and I went to stand by the old radiator that was under the window overlooking the street. At least the heat worked.

 

All the cum in my ass was trying to come out and I knew I was supposed to keep it in, so I lay down on the queen size bed. Damn what was that smell? I rolled over and smelled the blanket and bed – fuck hell it was like stale, old dog piss and fuck knows what else. The initial wave of revulsion was replaced with a desire and thirst and I wondered if Brucie liked watersports? Just then the door banged opened, Booker stomped in, “What the fuck you doing?” he asked and before I could answer he said, “Christ’s tits its cold out. So I hear you’ve been a fucking whore – HA! I could tell. It’s the quiet clean cut ones that’s the biggest fuck freaks. Winston said you got ridden good by Brucie huh? Yeah he’s a buggy fella alright. OK, Rip will be here soon, time to get you ready.”

 

What? Rip was coming now? I stood up, “Umm.. could I get some beer or something?” I asked. Booker had walked over to the bed and was busy pulling the blanket and sheets off and tossing them into the corner. Fucking hell no wonder it stank. The mattress was stained almost black in places, and I really did not want to know with what. “No. Time for your inspection. Get your clothes off and get over here,” Booker said as he grabbed a large paper bag he had brought in with him and set it by the bed before checking his watch. Bend over and let me see you gurl pussy. Good, nice and shaved.” I flinched and grunted a little as Booker poked two fingers into my fucked hole and a third as he started scratching at my insides and fingering me rough and hard.

 

Booker kept rough fucking me with his fingers, his nails scraping me up like a doze at a strip mine. “Here’s how this works,” he explained, “You get one chance with Rip. His rules. His way or no way.

Rule #1 – You will be naked, head down, ass up on the end of the bed with the door unlocked.

Rule #2 – All he wants to see is your cunt ready to bred and knocked up. You’ll have a sheet draped over your body and head. DON’T TAKE IT OFF as you will NOT see his face and will NOT look at him.

Rule #3 – Set your offering for Rip on the chair. If he likes what he sees and is feeling it – your cunt and the stacks, then shit will go down. If not, he’ll take the cash and role and that’s the end of that.

Rule #4 – No talking unless Rip tells you to.

Rule #5 – You can use these poppers if you want, but keep them under the sheet.

Rule #6 – Keep that cum in your ass and if you got to piss, you better do it now, but remember, not a drop of that cum gets loose so I’m going to watch to make sure.”

 

I grabbed my wallet, pulled out a stack of bills, the figured what the fuck and set my wallet on the chair too beside the stack. I was all on and ready. I then walked across the cold floor to the bathroom and tried to piss. My dick was trying to get hard as I thought about Rip and the fuck to come. Booker was standing in the doorway, “Jesus hell, get on with it,” he ordered, but between trying to clench my hole shut to keep the cum in while trying to relax to keep my dick down, I was as dry as the Sahara. Finally, after straining and focusing hard, I was able to let out a steaming stream, which reminded me, so I turned my head and asked, “Do you like watersports? I’d like to drink your piss too if you into that.” Booker chuckled, “Fucking freak faggot – damn – so you want to be a toilet too huh? We’ll talk.” A deep rumble from the street outside drew Booker’s attention and he walked over to the window, pulled the tattered curtain to the side, wiped the fog and grime off the glass, looked down and left, and said, “Come on. Time to get shit going. Get on the bed. He’s here.”

 

Booker untangled one of the stained sheets from the pile on the floor as I scrambled onto the end of the bed. He tossed the two pillows at me that I placed under my torso and chest to give me some support, and then got on my hands and knees and edged myself back to the end of the bed. Fuck I hope the bed will hold. Booker flung open the sheet and let it fall down and over me. He then lifted up the back and folded it up over my hips and tucked the sides down under my stomach and between my legs and the pillows. “Oh here,” he said as his hand snuck under the sheets and handed me the poppers. Then as he rammed his nails into my hole one last time he said, “Remember the rules. Either way, I’ll see you in a bit.”

 

I heard Booker go into the bathroom, close the door to my room, open the door to his, and shut that. The room was warm, but I was shivering in excitement and almost forgot to hit the poppers. I focused on that now, the rush making my head pulse a bit, then my body relaxed. Twice more and then I heard a THUMP – pause - THUMP – pause - THUMP – pause - THUMP – pause – THUMP. The sound of heavy boots coming down the hall got closer, and closer, and closer, and time slowed.

 

The boots paused one last time.

The door to my room slowly opened and I held my breath.

The boots took a step in, then another, the door closed.

They paused.

I exhaled and started to breath fast like a rabbit knowing there was a predator lurking just outside my hutch.

The boots slowly stepped over to the chair, the creak and groan of leather alerting me to his other movements.

There was a CLUNK. Something heavy had been sat on the chair.

The boots came up behind me.

The powerful odor of leather – and man musk – permeated through the sheet.

I began to shake.

 

A large, leather gloved hand ran two fingers up and down my wet crack.

The Ripper was here and I trembled as I remembered the last part of his ad that said, “ALL THAT COUNTS IS WHAT WILL LEAVE YOU SORE – MY 10+ INCH DICK AND DON’T BOTHER CONTACTING ME UNLESS YOU KNOW YOU CAN TAKE IT ALL ….”

[TTFN]

All I can say about this story is "WOW".

Has to be the best I have read so far and it is only getting started, looking forward to the good parts and seeing what Taboo he is into.

Just wish I was ass up on that smelly bed waiting for the Ripper.

[hornylilgurl]

Ooooh my god what a cliffhanger! This story is so fucking hot I NEEEED more! 

[whthole4u]

Choose Your Poison: Part 4 - SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! The Ripper’s leather, gloved hands double-tapped each of my ass cheeks good and hard and I had to bite the end of the pillow so I would not cry out or say something. I remembered Rule #4 – and all the others – as my exposed hole clenched with each hit. I fumbled with the poppers in my little anonymous sheet tent, and the next SMACK made me spill half the bottle onto the bed. As stained and dirty as I knew the mattress was, that wouldn’t matter, and the aroma mixed in well with the deep smell of piss and other bodily juices already there. Dry, leather, coated fingers then jammed into my sphincter.

 

“HMMM….THAT FAG GURL PUSSY HAS BEEN USED, FUCKING CREAMPIE PRINCESS….HMMMM…” Ripper said as he pulled his gloved fingers out of my ass, sniffed and huffed them like a pig hunting truffles before slurping them clean and pushing back in. I almost purred knowing I had pleased him so far. He then twisted his fingers around like mini-drones exploring a cave and suddenly pain flared through my tender ass. Ripper laughed, “BAAAHHHAA – FUCK THAT’S RIGHT – FEEL THOSE ARMOR INSERTS IN MY FINGERTIPS SCOOPING YOUR GUTS OUT? MAKING THOSE ASS LIPS NICE AND TENDER, HOT RED, SORE AND WETT. YOU JUST WAIT UNTIL I’M FUCKING DONE.”

 

I had to shove a fist full of the dirty sheet into my mouth to keep from crying out and begging him to stop. Ripper pulled his fingers all the way out again, I sighed, relaxed, then arched my back as he now forced three fingers back in and started jack hammering my rectum. “LOOSEN THAT HOLE UP – SLOPPY CUNT – THAT’S WHAT I LIKE TO SEE – DIRTY NUTT DRIPPING OUT – PRIMED TO BE MY FUCKING FLESHLIGHT. YOU CUM CHASING, MUTT FAG. LOOKING FOR THOSE BUGS. DESPERATE FAGGOT COME CRAWLING TO MY BOOTS, TRYING TO BE A QUEEN OF SPADES. WELL KITTY KITTY I GOT YOU AND NOW HOLD ON FOR SOME NASTY ASS SHIT.”

 

Ripper mercilessly finger-fucked my ass and then just as suddenly stopped, yanked his fingers out, and smacked his lips as he licked the leather gloves clean. My chest was heaving as I was panting and took advantage of the brief respite to hit the poppers. Fuck it. I dumped the rest of the bottle onto the mattress under me and buried my face in the filth and inhaled several times. I heard a couple of snaps, a zipper, the sound of leather shifting, then SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! This time though it was not Ripper’s hands banging me like a drum, but his big, daddy dick.

 

“I LIKE MY HOLES TENDER INSIDE AND OUT,” Ripper said as he continued beating on my ass with his hard, weighty dick. “MY DICK IS THICK AS SHIT AND YOU BETTER BE SCARED. YOUR PUSSY LIPS WILL GET TORE UP, SWOLLEN, LOVE SEEING THAT SHIT GRIP MY DICK WHEN I PULL OUT, SHOWING ME HOW MUCH THAT ASS WANTS IT. YOU DO WANT IT DON’T YOU?” I dared not reply in case it was a trick. Ripper chuckled, “GOOD BITCH. YOU OBEY WELL. YOU MAY ANSWER – ONE WORD ONLY – YOU DO WANT IT DON’T YOU? YOU WANT MY AIDS IN YOU? YOU WANT ME TO RIP YOU UP? YOU WANT TO TAKE THIS RAW STROKER AND DEEP POKER?”

 

In the silence that followed, I was almost lost in the rhythmic feeling of his dick beating my ass muscles, then remembered he said I could answer so I raised myself up on my arms a little and firmly stated, “YES!” Then almost silently without realizing it I said, “Master,” as I lowered my face back down to the dirty mattress.

 

The room grew still. Fuck, had he heard that? Did I mess up? Please no, please no, please no. I wanted to cry in shame, frustration, anger. My fears fled when Ripper’s mushroom tipped dick touched my wet hole. “I HONESTLY DON’T CARE IF YOU WANT IT OR NOT. YOU’RE GETTING RAPED EITHER WAY. PART OF ME WAS HOPING YOU’D SAY NO. BAHAHA – NOT LIKE YOU COULD GO TO THE COPS. THEY SURE DON’T HAVE A FORM FOR MUTT-FAG-BUG-CHASERS WHO GOT WHAT THEY ASKED FOR. I’M GOING TO STRETCH YOU OPEN LIKE THE WHORE YOU WANT TO BE. THE WHORE YOU ARE ON THE INSIDE. COAT THOSE CHAPPED PUSSY LIPS WITH ALL MY NUTT AND GET MY FUCKING FREAK ON. YOU READY TO GET RIPPED?”

 

No response was expected or given to this question as he positioned himself – ready to hit the 8 ball in the corner pocket. I breathed deep, savoring the mattress-soaked aroma of poppers and piss. Relishing that I was in a sleazy hotel in a strange city, ready to get used by some anonymous dude and filled with AIDs cum. Ripper slammed his cue, the pocket got filled, and the searing pain spread through my body like a Phoenix. Blazing, hot, and all consuming.

 

Ripper drove into my ass with his horse dick. No mercy was asked and none was given as he let the whole world know I was his, “BUSTED THAT ASS WIDE OPEN LIKE PUSSY – RIPPING IT WIDE – RIPPING IT DEEP – RIPPING IT SIDE TO SIDE. TEARING THOSE WALLS DOWN. WHERE’S THAT SECOND HOLE? WHERE’S IT HIDING? YEAH FUCK THERE IT IS AND POW – THAT SHIT’S WRECKED TOO NOW.” The bed was rocking back and forth and banging hard against the wall. The windows rattled, the mattress and box spring squeaked as his hips made contact with my now reddened skin. He was murdering my asshole with his killer mandingo dick. I was being used and power fucked beyond imagining when I finally just let go – my whole body let go – and I became nothing but a willing hole, a receptacle for his AIDs cum.

 

“THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT, THAT SNATCH JUST SCRABBLING FOR MY DICK, SWALLOWING ME DEEPER!” Ripper exclaimed. “I OWN THAT HOLE.” Thrust after thrust, steady, hard, and deep, my anonymous assailant pounded me into total submission.

 

Ripper picked up speed, his dick swelled, “NOW FOR MY BABIES IN THAT WHITE WOMB – YOU BETTER CALL POISON CONTROL BECAUSE I AM GOING TO SHOOT MY TOXIC DRANO IN THAT HOLE.” In preparation for his seed, Ripper planted his full weight on my ass with both leather, gloved hands. He then pushed down, and to the sides, stretching my hole further making me squat. “FUCKING AIDS WHORE, GOING TO INFECT YOU GOOD. RIGHT HERE – RIGHT NOW – OH HELL YES THIS NUTT IS GOING DEEP - OPEN THAT FUCKING CUNT UP – OPEN IT – SLOPPY FUCKING PUSSY FOR THIS NUTT – HERE YOU GO – HERE YOU GO – THAT’S RIGHT….GRRRRR…..AAARRGGHHH…(SNORT SNORT)….GRRR.”

 

A few thrusts, Ripper slid his dick out of my well-fucked ass, sighed, and as I caught my own breath he slapped my ass hard with his right hand and, ‘THAT, FAGGOT, WAS JUST A TASTE. I GOT A WHOLE LOT MORE PLANNED FOR AS LONG AS YOU KEEP THE STACKS COMING AND YOUR CUNT WET YOU NASTY FUCK. YOU WILL EITHER BE TAKING MONSTER DICK TO KEEP THAT PUSSY SWOLLEN AND RIPE FOR IMPREGNANTION OR INFECTED DICK.

 

AND I DON’T JUST MEAN DICK THAT GUYS THINK IS BIG. I MEAN THOSE BULL HUNG, DONKEY-DICKED, MOTHERFUCKAS WHO ALWAYS COMPLAINING PUSSY TOO TIGHT OR BITCHES RUN FROM THEM. I PUT THE WORD OUT AND GOT SOME TRUE FREAK ASS JOINTS PLANNING TO BOUNCE ON YOUR SHIT. THIS IS BUSINESS AND FOR THE NEXT 3 DAYS YOU JUST A FUCK DOLL FOR ALL THE DIRTY-ASSED-NASTY-EXTREME-FREAKED-OUT-FUCKERS WHO NEED A BUCK AND A PUSSY. YOU’LL GET FUCKED NON-STOP AND WHEN YOU’RE LIMPING TO THE PLANE SO FUCKING SORE AND TORE UP IT HURTS TO TAKE A STEP, YOU’LL BE PRAISING ME – THE RIPPER – FOR GIVING YOU WANT YOU DESERVED.”

 

I heard a zipper, snaps, his leathers as he moved back to the chair. There was a pause, then the door to my room closed and I waited as the THUMP, THUMP, THUMP of his exit echoed down the hall. I quickly untangled myself and threw the dirty sheet back, and ran to the front window. A quick wipe of the grime on the glass with my forearm and I was able to see the street and shivered as I stood watching, and waiting, and then I saw him. Ripper looked up, the mirrored front of his motorcycle helmet hiding his face but I could imagine him smiling, at least I hoped he was. He looked tall, muscular, with broad shoulders that were snug in a black leather motorcycle jacket that had red hatches on the shoulders and two red bands on the biceps. The black leather pants highlighted his form when he swung his leg over his bike. The engine started, the rumble, roar, and exhaust announced his departure.

 

I hobbled back towards the bed, realizing how hurt, sore, and tore up my ass was. The cash I had left for him on the chair was gone, but he had left the money that was in my wallet, which I guess made me happy. Any further thoughts were interrupted as Booker opened the door from the bathroom and sauntered in with an older looking white guy trailing behind. “Damn fuck. We could hear that ass being taken through the walls. Got old Chester here all in a frenzy. Ain’t that right Chester? Yeah. Chester’s got some drippy dick for you but before he dirties it up, bend over and pull your cheeks apart. I need to take a few shots on the cell phone and let folks know what’s coming and what’s on offer.”

 

I bent over the bed and showed Booker my AIDs filled hole. Every heart beat pulsed in my ass and I knew from his and Chester’s admiring comments that they liked the ‘post-Ripper’ view. “OK,” Booker instructed, “Now a few action shots showing Chester’s dirty dick in your ass. Poke it out good so I can get a clear shot of what a skank whore you are. Fuck Chester your dick is messed up! Oh…wait…hold on...Christ. That was fucking quick. Alright Chester get that nutt. We got to roll.”

 

As Chester fucked me determined to add to my infection, I said, “I’m not sure I can right now. I may need just a little break.” Booker laughed, cuffed my head, “YEAH RIGHT. I KNOW THE PLAN. YOU PASSED THE TEST SO THE NEXT STOP IS THE CENTRAL MISSION SOUP KITCHEN. LIL’JOHN IS WAITING AND HE TEXTED THAT HIS 11.5 INCH DICK HAS NOT HAD A WHITE MUFF IN MONTHS SO HE’S READY TO PUMMEL THAT THIRD HOLE.” Even though my body ached and I was tired, those were the magic words and I was determined to take every inch of Lil’John.

[eurolatino86]

I love the way black thugs talk

So hot!