Ginny's Witnesses Ch. 05

"She's all yours, bruhs!" he cackled, at which point I looked down at the drunken Sam.

"Ginny...I'm gonna puke," gasped my young island stud in a panicked whisper. I pulled off of him so he could get up, which he did, and he staggered into a dark hallway – bumping against people in his path – toward what I assumed was the men's restroom where he could be sick.

"Aaaww, Snake can't drink! He's a kid!" announced Teou loudly, now the conquering hero to his truck-driving buddies. "You!" he pointed to a cohort, "Take 'im up ta his room an' let 'im sleep it off!" The fellow went to where Sam had disappeared and that's the last I saw of my island stud.

In the meantime I was lifted off the pool table by six strong, tattooed, truck drivers' arms and moved unsteadily toward the open phone booth where I'd stashed my drink. I was dehydrated and desperately needed water, yet I drained my glass ofabsinthe when it was handed to me. I really wanted my bag, since it contained stuff that I could take to the john to clean myself up. But it was behind the bar in the other room, and I was in a fog, being held on my feet, since my bloodless legs hadn't yet recovered from their position on the table. I didn't seem to care that my halter top was stretched up over my naked tits, nor did it seem unusual that cum was running out of my rectum down my thighs. So, I just went with how I was being directed.

I looked down at the guy who was now sitting on the seat in the phone booth. He was one of Teou's grinning, gold-toothed buddies who'd been jerking himself off when I'd been in the pool table threesome. His wrap was lifted and he was now fully erect, his long cock colored green, now lubricated with saliva from hiskava-stained hand, as he manipulated his foreskin up and down over a purple glans filled with blood. I shook my head in halfhearted objection as one of his friends spun me around, turning my back to him, and pushed me into the booth with my sarong lifted again to my waist and my legs spread to straddle the man's thighs.

His insertion didn't hurt, since his friend, Teou, had already blazed my anal trail, leaving me partially open. I was already wet, from Teou's semen, saliva and sweat...and I needed to sit down. "Uuunnngggh," I grunted, as my gaping asshole accepted his cock to the hilt, and my head starting spinning again. Another of the green-stained group now stood in the phone booth's door, the front ofhis wrap split by a rampant, fat, uncircumcised prick. I didn't know what he wanted, so assumed it was a quick blow job since he was in line with my face. I opened my mouth – whining feebly in my larynx – anticipating an eventual load in my throat. But, whoever he was, he bent his knees, braced himself with his hands around his buddy under me, and rammed his dick into my pussy to his pubic hair.

"Ooohh, Gaawwd, yeeaahh!" I cried, as he struck my cervix. "Nnnggghh...yeeaahh...fuck me!" I begged, then continued meaningless, desperate paeans as the two men pummeled my insides. I shouted ceaselessly from the rapacious pleasure they brought, now drawing a crowd outside the glassed-in booth. "Aawgh...fuck me!" I begged, as my brain faded into oblivion. I felt my feet being lifted and placed flat against both sides of the door frame, opening me completely to the dark marauder between my upraised legs, and my throaty sounds dropped almost an octave into savage, insensate grunts as a chain of climaxes gripped me. "Aaawwaaggh...fuck me. Aawwggh...fuck me. Aawwggh. Aawwggh. Aawwggh," I continued, until both of my charges had brutally filled me with their seed.

As another pair of workers – both islanders – took their places inside me, I looked to either side and saw other large brown guys grinning through the glassed-in sides of the phone booth. They tugged at their cocks and, laughing, took their respective places in line for a seemingly vengeful shot at me...an unsuspecting white, "high class" tourist woman. A couple of the previous voyeurs hadn't waited for me, I noticed through my blitzed eyes, since streams of cum were running down the outside of the glass on either side of the booth.

After a while I was deep throating other brown men – as well as submitting to double penetration – and sucking down their viscous, anonymous seed. When each man was finished with me, I was struck by his unique contemptuous act. Whether it was to rub my saliva crudely onto my face, put a filthy finger into my mouth to draw out recently deposited semen and rub it on my tits, or to slap and gouge at my sexual parts, each gesture showed unmistakable social aggression. It was as if I'd provided only symbolic holes, topped with a blonde mane, into which they could spill their political frustration. I felt like a once pristine porcelain vase that had been used as a spittoon.

Eventually, the witnessing crowd thinned and I was left nearly alone, with the jukebox playing a mournful country western tune about lost love. I looked down at my breasts at the bright white, fluorescent, tracks of wet cum on my tits, stomach and thighs, gleaming under the black lights and shining under the strobes. Getting slowly to my feet, I realized that I was more drunk than I'd ever been...and wended my way back to the dark hallway, where Sam had disappeared into the restroom, hours ago it seemed.

Part 3

On the restroom door there were two old baked porcelain signs in black and white: LADIES and GENTLEMEN. I giggled to myself, sardonically, because on this afternoon I hadn't seen anyone who filled those classic definitions...myself included. As I entered the stinking toilet room – obviously unisex since there was a stained, rusty, sheet metal trough on one wall serving as a men's urinal – I stumbled sideways into a stall, slamming and locking the door behind me, and flopped onto the filthy toilet seat. Moaning to myself, I let go with a mighty pee, emptying my bladder, which had suffered for at least an hour. I relaxed and belched from deep in my stomach, tasting the plastic-like remains of untold loads of semen, and moaned. From somewhere came a deep male voice, resonant and modulated, that I immediately assumed was God's, saying, "That was quite a show you put on out there."

"Wha...?" I exclaimed, looking around, wondering who had witnessed my performance and was now judging it. I saw nothing, except a hole at about waist height filled with an eyeball, leading into the stall next door. Shit! I thought, a unisex bathroom...with a peephole in the fucking wall! I looked at the hole and saw light coming through it now, as if my neighboring witness had suddenly left his voyeuristic position. "Who're you?" I asked.

"You don't need to know," said the voice. "Are you okay? Can I help you at all?"

"Ya know...my bag's out in the other room, behind the bar. If you could get it for me...," I hesitated, "I'll be real nice to you." One more blow job would hardly matter, I reasoned, self-contemptuously.

"Back in a minute," said the voice. As the restroom door closed all was quiet and I suddenly relieved my bowels noisily, gasping with relief since it was all liquid and felt like diarrhea. Small wonder, I thought, after all that anal abuse.

I heard the door open again and saw my bag being pushed under the door to my stall, and heard the person – the man – who'd brought it to me re-enter the stall next to mine. "Ohh, Gawd, thanks," I said, pulling out the bottle of douche and administering it gingerly. "Another favor, Sir? Could you wet this sponge and washcloth and hand it to me? Please?"

"Sure," he said, taking the things from me under the door, running warm water over them, and returning them to me.

"Thanks. Who are you anyway?" I asked, now naked and wiping down my green-stained body.

"You've never met me, but I know who you are. You have quite a hot streak under that respectable façade. How's your daughter, Andi?" asked the voice, softly.

I was shocked at his knowing my daughter's name, and strained through my drunkenness to place his voice, to no avail. "Uuh...fine," I responded. "We're all enjoying our vacation."

"Well, I can see thatyou are," he said. "I hear you've become a legend in the past two weeks. What do you do in real life?" he asked, seeming sincere.

I thought, this is ridiculous! Talking about myself to a disembodied voice that appears to know more about me than I'd ever want in this situation. "I'm in the porn business," I said, embellishing the truth and covering my ass, figuratively, in case this guy could be dangerous in the future.

"I can believe it," he said, chuckling. "Which brings us to another point. Right now, you look like you could use some help...wrung out like you are. I'll wait 'til you get cleaned up and get you back to where you're staying...to the Chief's village...before it gets too late."

As I mopped the last of a stream of douche dripping from my snatch, I realized I was in trouble. If Sam had crashed upstairs he'd be in no shape to bike me back. Icould call a taxi, but that would compromise Sam's trust with the Chief, being his trusted driver and all. And I certainly didn't want to throw myself on JJ's mercy. I'd gotten myself into this, and I'd get myself out of it...the best way I knew how. "I told you I'd be nice to you," I said, weakly, my voice quavering. "You probably noticed...I'm pretty good, uuh, with my mouth...".

"It's notreally necessary, you know," he said.

"C'mon, whoever you are...I'm good for my word," I said, blustering with phony resolve.

"Well, Icould stand up...get my cock hard, and take advantage of that beautiful, sculpted jaw of yours...your slick, pink lips. Mmm...youare an artist...with your tongue," the guy said.

Immediately playing into his fantasy, I said, "You can hardly wait until my soft, hot mouth..." – I was really getting into it – "...takes your dick into my throat and swallows down all that thick, syrupy cum of yours."

"Oh, I can wait," he muttered, from deep in his lungs.

"C'mon, what're you afraid of?" I demanded, my drunken pride now deflated from his rejection.

"Nothing, Ginny. There's just a better time," he said.

He knew my name! I realized. What could I do? It sounded like a good bargain. He'd help me get home, and I'd pleasure him. Besides, I reallywanted to suck him off through this combined peep and glory hole, since I'd done it with Sam for his screen test. But this wasreal...it wasanonymous...I might never know who he was, and the thought turned me on! But his cock wasn't forthcoming. Finally, I got fed up. "My porn name is 'Miz Jones', by the way." There was no response. "Well, it's your loss. I'm headed back to the States soon, so you'll never know what you missed."

I heard a deep sigh from his stall, then he said, "See you outside...at the bar...okay?" His stall door opened and closed, then he exited the restroom.

Wow! I thought. It'd been a long time since I'd been turned down! But I soon forgot about it and tended to cleaning myself up as best I could. I fixed my hair back into its earlier ponytail and put on my clothing, now stiff with dried cum. Outside, at the bar, there were a few drunken customers. Lulu was gone. One good looking, sandy-haired guy about 35 was sitting in a shadowy corner and waved at me. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, starched khakis and sandals. I walked toward him and asked, "Are you my ride?" His blue eyes flashed intelligently from a beautifully tanned face, and he stood up, extending his hand.

"I'm Nick," he said, in that mellifluous voice. He was about JJ's height of 6'2", weighed maybe 200, had a trim, muscular build, a mustache and nicely cut hair that ended just over his ears. Next to his beer on the table was a pair of light-sensitive aviator glasses. "Want a drink?"

"Just ice water," I said, sitting across from him and putting down my bag. "Two glasses," I gasped, embarrassedly.

"You've earned 'em," he said, and went to the bar, returning with my request. He walked with an easy, unaffected grace that made me feel warm.

Thanking him, I asked, "What do you do, Nick?"

"Work on the island. I've been here a year-and-a-half," he responded. "Ready to go?" he asked, since I'd gulped down both glasses of ice water.

"All yours," I said, wishing I hadn't put it quite that way, as we walked out to a small, gray sedan at the curb. It had CCM painted on the doors.

"What's 'CCM'?" I asked, as we pulled away.

"Community College of Micronesia," he stated. "That's where I work. It's still early yet, so I'm taking you to our clinic. The doctor'll take a few vaginal smears, give you some antibiotics just in case, and see if you picked up anything today."

I was shocked back into reality. "Is that a common...problem here?" I asked.

"STDs aren't rampant, but you'll know by tomorrow," he said. "Either the doc or I will phone the results to you in the morning. He's on duty all weekend at the lab."

I felt so stupid as I explained to the doctor my multiple sex partners over the past couple of weeks. He wasn't surprised at all, though, since mainland whites, he said, frequently go sexually crazy when they're immersed in the island's permissive, sensuous culture.

As Nick drove me back to the village I'd sobered up, yet I still felt beholden to him. Just before reaching our destination, I almost asked him to pull over...so I couldshow him how grateful I was, with a nice blow job. But, he was such a gentleman – and I'd embarrassed myself enough in his eyes – that I didn't. He dropped me just outside the village entrance, I slung my bag over my shoulder, thanked him again, and he was gone. Sadly, I realized that I hadn't seen the five sights I'd planned on this day. Yet, I'd been lucky to see four, and as my rational sense returned, I was becoming concerned, hoping that Nick would call tomorrow with negative test results.

After a thorough shower, at dinner that night, JJ, Andi and I ate our first meal together in two weeks. In my absence this day, JJ had recruited Luala to begin her tutelage of our daughter, and she seemed to be doing a great job, practicing as she was to be our stateside nanny. Though Andi would still sleep in the kids' compound, JJ and Luala were gradually weaning her from the segregated customs of the island.

"Tomorrow night we've been invited to a dressy dinner party at the home of the college Dean," said JJ. "Then, Sunday night we'll get the last flight out to Saipan...then home."

God! I thought. Tomorrow's our last full day! There's Anu...there's Sam...there're my test results! Then Sunday would come, when I'd have to be strong for Andi, who'd be leaving all of her friends! I hoped that Luala could help me do that!

I'd been such a miserable mother during this vacation...and felt guilty at being such a stupid, shameless slut.

Please vote and send constructive feedback. The vacation ends in a surprise with the next chapter.