Memories Can't Wait

Not that Aaron wasn't intense when he was into something - or one of us. His thrusting body belayed his earlier unease. He clawed into my thighs like a predator wrangling its prey. After a couple dunks to the bottom of the tub by my enraged blonde, my legs stopped bobbing around his hips. The angle drove him so deep inside me; his crown spearing my folds and his balls slapping my quivering pucker, sending my body into spasms. My cunt squeezed down on him, milking him urgently, and bathing him in my juices. He didn't join me, but I could feel his groan through my body. As the surface of the bath stilled, I could even make out his strained face.

My head broke the surface the moment my orgasm subsided and I expelled water from my previously submerged orifices. My eyes were covered in a clear sheen that I struggled to blink away.

"-turn." Tara held me up by collar. My ability to see slowly returned to me and i turned to look at her to figure out what she was saying. My mind was too hazy for me to know whether I was looking up at her or at a wall.

Aaron ground his palm into my pubis as he retreated from me. I mewled and bucked my hips at him. Instead of returning, he came to the other side of the tub and cautiously took Tara's place holding me up. My eyes were just beginning to focus again when my evil cunt of a girlfriend thrust into me. I remember thinking how much I loved her when my boyfriend seized my hair and thrust my head below the surface.

He didn't stand idle like she did. His hand tore at my t-shirt, exposing my breasts, squeezing and pinching them. She pounded my cunt into oblivion, hugging ever closer to my reclined torso. Give an appropriately motivated woman a strap-on and she will wreck whatever is in her path. I would have been convinced my pussy was being destroyed if I didn't feel it burning from her thrusts. She kept me at the precipice of cumming simply by the amount of pain she could cause. On a normal day I wouldn't have cum.

I can't really remember the next minute or so after that, not as a full fledged memory, anyway. More like a feeling. I felt everything and, for a moment, I was not in that tub. In the time since that moment, I have become convinced that the sudden warmth, displacement I felt was enlightenment. I knew what I had to do with my life.

I woke up beside the tub. They were saying things, but I didn't understand. I was on some ethereal masochistic plane and they were still bound to this vanilla existence. I found it difficult to make them see my perspective with bile and tub water flowing out of my mouth.

***

The memory of orgasms I had that day ripples through me, a newfound wave of desire filling my body with a fresh yearning for release. My fingers search for it between the lips of my pussy as I remember those sensations, comparing them to my circumstances now: the fullness, the drowning, the save.

I struggle to look down at my feet. The little chair that was to be my saving grace is tipped on its side, a meter to my left and a few centimeters too far down to reach even if it was directly underneath me.

Oh no.

I panic, trying to scream through the tie's death grip around my throat. One of my hands claws at the knot as the other, against all reason, keeps rubbing away at my slit. My hips buck, wanting to be fucked. My arousal is carried forward without pause, the fleeting brushes with my clit becoming more frequent as my body jerks around.

My pussy is gushing, wetter than it has ever been before in my life. Even as the stars begin to form in my vision I can't pretend the fear of death will overpower the desire to feel release. I watch myself swing from the chandelier in the mirror: a pretty school girl in her black and red uniform, skirt hiked up and panties to the side, masturbating her life away.

I want to focus. I want to fight through the lustful haze to free myself of my noose. I can see it in the mirror, held fast around my neck. Even with my fingers crawling between my puffed up lips, I can still fight. I need to.

My mouth gapes, strands of drool webbing my lips as I try to vocalize my predicament to anyone who may be near enough to hear. No sound comes out. All I can hear is the juicy shlick - shlick - shlick of my finger's ministrations to the pounding in my head.

***

Mouth full of water, cum or rope or unobstructed at all, after a certain point I stopped being good at people. I could seduce, tease, flirt, fuck like professional escort, but the more I aged the less I understood emotions. Choices that made sense to me only reinforced the barriers between us. The aggression of our arguments grew exponentially until the arguments stopped happening. There was weeks of tense silence, punctuated only by exasperated bitch fests by Aaron that Tara and I received more than responded to. I thought a real, honest shock was what we needed break the ice away.

I suppose not every wine becomes finer with age.

I shifted. I no longer felt comfortable bearing my surprise to them. I actually felt exposed with my panties off. I cupped my cunt and attempted to react naturally under his gaze. I tried to think quickly, to invent a believable alibi. Words eluded me.

Tara was quiet. She rarely spoke to me lately. Frankly, the arguments stopped happening because she stopped fighting. Anytime I did something that set Aaron off, she sat there on her side of the couch with her face craned forward on her hand. Anytime I did anything that normally bothered her, she didn't react. She could speak up and confirm his suspicions at any time. I would have no defense. Instead, she physically distanced herself from my interrogation as much as she could. That made my heart sting.

My fingers silently strummed the lace criss-crossing my labial piercings. I knew I was sweating, but I tried my hardest to look insulted by his allegations. I just needed to tell him something believable. The only thought in my head was my wish that Tara would just get angry again.

I took too long. He exploded. He called me a cheating cunt, a liar, a manipulator. He berated me for my carelessness. This was the overture. He really unloaded on me when it came to my unemployment.

I had no way of defending myself against that accusation even if I was clear headed enough to dispute the others. All three of us knew I had stopped trying to find a job. It wasn't that I was unqualified. I could easily do an office job. I just didn't see the point when I was in a relationship with two people who, to say the least, weren't unwealthy. Besides, I was earning the money I was using on my body modifications and wardrobe.

That was what really spurred this argument, not my new cunt piercings.

I don't remember how long I was silent, but I do remember Tara finally speaking up. She told me to leave. She told us to leave. I begged her to reconsider, he just got angrier. I winced as she told him what I had long suspected: she was only with him because of me. We were a package deal and now that she no longer needed me, she no longer needed him.

To his credit, it didn't take much convincing beyond that. He left rather gracefully for someone so passionate. I, however, blubbered like a little girl. I pleaded and cried, but she was stone faced. I eventually wore out her patience, though, because she seized me by the back of my neck and pushed me out the door, tossing a handful of belongings out behind me.

I screamed and screamed in the hallway, pleading her to give me another chance. Somebody must have called security, because they showed up after a while to remove me from the building. Still bottomless, I tied a cardigan around my waist to regain some level of decency. I sucked them off in exchange for not being handed over to the cops. I never stopped crying.

After I choked down their cum, they kicked me out the back entrance minus a cardigan with a warning to never return or they would reconsider contacting the police. I landed in a puddle, becoming slick with dark alley slime. Mercifully there was a big rag hanging out of the nearby dumpster, possibly the remnants of a bed spread. As I wrapped it around me waist, I looked down at my chastity piercings. My gesture of commitment to remaining pure for them had made me homeless.

***

I hate that memory. I want to bury it deep in a black hole where it can never return from. I hate my inaction, my inability to understand them. I can't blame them for kicking me out. I have tried to contact them since, but by now I am just some ex that won't let go.

A single bead of wetness runs down my finger as I think back on it, imagining other ways that scenario could have played out: with Aaron shoving me on my back and Tara pulling the strings even tighter. With her telling me I'd never feel another dick in my cunt again. With him grabbing two handfuls of hair and using my mouth as a replacement. That would have been nice, if fantastical.

My feet keep kicking, causing me to swing back and forth slightly. Not that it does any good. I am not moving fast enough to snap myself free or even tighten the noose to just end it already. All I can do is marvel at the combination of despair and arousal I feel. Dying is certainly the most interesting thing I will do this week, I suppose.

***

I didn't suffer long.

One of the men I cheated on them with had a connection perfect for my disposition. He set my up at the Good Pink Health Center as one of their "special orders". Pink-haired and oiled-up, I ground my thighs on a fat salaryman's dick while I had my head in another's lap, bobbing up and down with wet slurps as I serviced his cock. It wasn't bad work really, at least not once I'd learned to tune out whatever prattle the customers were going on about. But the customer between my legs in particular had taken a shine to me, in spite of my piercings and flamboyant hair. Actually, it is probably in part because of my eccentricities. Apparently he liked the wild ones.

I have to admit, it was a little sexy and thrilling to slide up and down someone else's skin and suck dick for money. There was certainly the taboo nature to ring my kink bells. Then there was the actual physical nature of it; human beings were meant to hold each other close and since I'd been expelled from my last set of cuddle-buddies, this was a nice stand-in. And the guy wasn't too bad, as far as fat, middle-aged salarymen went at least. So when he grabbed the back of my head just as the other guy was peaking, I wasn't too irritated.

"So, Aoi-san," he addressed me using my stage name, "What is that stuff between your legs?"

I giggled and drug my restrained pussy over his dick, spit dribbling around the corners of my mouth as I took the other man's cock in my hand and began a rapid-fire series of strokes, "Have a guess, Tanaka-san."

"Oh, I don't know, such an innocent girl as yourself? It couldn't be a sort of chastity device, could it?"

While he asked, I'd reached over with my other hand, gently pulling the other man's balls down, leaning over him and letting a gob of spit land on his prick before picking up into a brutally fast stroke. It drive him over the edge with a gasp and he splashed loads of hot kids over my hands.

I giggled again and turned my attention back to the man I was straddling, "Something like that, Tanaka-san." I sat up and really worked my weight onto his cock, sliding harder and faster. I inhaled and moaned softly as my piercings were pressed up against my clit by the gentle up-turned curve of his shaft. Tanaka-san definitely appreciated the noise, unlike some of the other customers who preferred the girls be completely silent while working them over. I didn't mind doing it either; it was hard to deny it felt good on some level, even though it never brought me to completion.

But that made me exceptional at the Good Pink Health Center and popular enough with a certain salaryman that when the timer chimed softly he handed me a business card. "In case you ever need a little pocket change. You know, for shopping."

I wasn't stupid. It was prostitution, no matter what sort of euphemism he covered it with. But I'm no prude and I could've used the extra cash, so I kept the card, even past clocking-out time. I was surprised by my actions but I actually mulled over his offer as I waited for the train home, flipping the card end over end. On the back, he'd written down the address and room number of his penthouse suite. The smiley face he capped it off with was pathetic, considering his age.

Still, it was money and I needed more of it. My phone was in my hand the instant I made the decision, "Tanaka-san, it's me, Aoi."

The man was giddy, "Oh, Aoi-san! So nice to -"

"I'll do it." My voice was cool but I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. "Two conditions: first, you don't touch my pussy. At all."

"...well what are -"

"Off-limits. Non-negotiable."

"...What is the other condition?"

"You invite friends. As many as you can."

"I take it that your pussy is off-limits for them as well?"

"Naturally." He was silent. "Look, you are a big man, I am sure you can think of other ways for me to entertain you and your friends." Subtle phallic references were always a good way of winning a man over.

"Ok, Aoi-san. Do you need directions?"

"No, I can find it. I will be there in an hour."

"Are you sure? Such a young girl as yourself has to be careful and take care -"

I hung up on him. My nipples were already getting hard at the thought of what I'd be doing inside that penthouse. His building was near the next stop (I may have performed services for other clients before in that very same building). I didn't want to show up too early and end up alone in the room with Tanaka-san; that would be a little too intimate for my tastes. Instead, I sat down at a local coffee house and did some people watching: pink-cheeked students fresh from school, harried housewives with children in tow, the occasional friendly policeman and the always present street vendors. The heat and dampness between my legs left me at a low simmer, anxious and ready. At the end of the hour, I picked up my phone and called Tanaka-san again, "I'm here, be ready for me."

I ended the call before he could respond. Sure, he could take offense, but that just added to the thrill. I didn't want him to notice my shaking before I entered the penthouse. The simmer in my panties rose to a boil on the elevator ride up and by time I was at his door, my thighs were rubbing together of their own accord. I hoped my facade of indifference would hold fast. I had a reputation to maintain, even under these circumstances.

Tanaka-san cracked the door and peered out cautiously, his face breaking into a boyish smile when he realized it really was me, "Ah, Aoi-san, come in, come in!" He shifted the door open, but remained hidden behind it as I stepped inside.

The room's look was gaudy, built for the conspicuous consumer... or someone trying to impress people. Maybe both. Everything was trimmed with gold. The carpet was so fine it made me feel barbaric just for standing on it. As I kicked off my shoes, the room's heavy perfume filled my lungs with such virile intensity that I couldn't suppress a cough. The men scattered throughout the room in varying states of undress chuckled at the reaction. They were tanned, pasty, portly and gangly. They leered at me and I felt my skin flush at the sight of several erections stiffen under my gaze.

Even though I was expecting the upcoming debauchery, Tanaka-san putting his hands on my shoulders still made me jump. I smiled nervously as the introductions began. Right off the bat, I could tell most of these were pseudonyms or noms de whore, so I didn't pay much attention. Instead I unzipped my tight pants and hooked my thumbs in the hemlines of my panties and pants, slipping them off with a couple pops of my hips, leaving me standing in a puddle of denim.

I walked over and planted a foot on the armrest of an occupied chair, presenting my chastity piercings to the crowd. Their leering turned to gasps and the man occupying the chair gaped at the drenched lace running between each ring. Despite being wound shut, but little pussy still made her hunger known. The man lunged forward to lick up my juices, but I cupped my pussy and wagged my finger with several tuts. I turned around and bent over, presenting my well used anus to the crowd. Their cheering and whistling made me smile and feel more steady.

"Who's first?" I faced them with my hands on my hips.

Tanaka-san's fleshy hands came down off my shoulders and cupped my breasts through my cardigan, pushing them up for the benefit of the other men. I unbuttoned the top and shed it as he tongued my ear. The thin white T-shirt underneath did not hide the color or shape of my nipples and Tanaka-san's tweaking of them was met with further enthusiasm by his friends.

I squatted down, Tanaka-san's cock being the first I took into my mouth, my hand wrapping around the shaft as I fixed my lips around the crown and slurped. I teased his dickhole with my tongue, making little circles and figure eights. The rest of the men quickly shed whatever clothing remained and stepped closer, forming a tight circle around me. There were manhoods of every size and description jutting towards me, angry looking dicks and economy-sized peckers, eager cocks and a single pudd that reminded me of a platypus. I reached out and grabbed the closest, running my palm back and forth on the tight, full ballsack while softly moaning around Tanaka-san's dick.

It was obvious the man I held wasn't the biggest, but that bother me. I broke away from Tanaka-san's cock, leaving a trail of saliva behind, and twisted my head lower to begin kissing the other man's balls. He croaked out an expression of pleasure I hadn't quite heard before; something like a cross between a satisfied grunt and an earnest prayer. It pleased me to know I pleased him so thoroughly.

Before I could get too full of myself, a man behind him grabbed a handful of my hair, wrapping it around his dick and thrusted into it against my temple. He was embarrassingly short from what I could tell, but devilishly enthusiastic. The short cock quickly outgrew its deliberate pace and picked up steam like a runaway train, my pink hair feeling the friction of the oddball fuck just as he came. He splashed me with several watery drops along my forehead, a couple of which dribbled down my eyelids. The other men applauded as he stepped back.

One of them lifted me by the hips as I continued my task of kissing and sucking the balls and dicks in front of me, exposing my bottom to the crowd. It came as a surprise when his wet tongue pressed up against my pucker and I whimpered in delight. It was good but he went from straight-forward licks to trying to stab his tongue up my ass in a flash. I had half a mind to relax my backdoor and let him. He stopped after a few moments, leaving my rosebud wet and winking, but apparently that was just foreplay: I felt a thick cock prodding my hole and I bit my lip in anticipation.

I wasn't disappointed.

The head of his dick pierced into me like a spear, stretching my pucker around its girth and making no apologies for it. My mouth sagged open and someone grabbed my hair before laying their cock on my tongue and thrusting forward. Another someone took my hand and wrapped my fingers around their dick, using my hand as a sex toy vigorously, before my brain caught up. I jerked my hand out of his and controlled the pace and tightness of my stroking of his cock.

The buttfucker wasn't very patient or gentle. As his cock hit resistance, his go-to move was pulling back a bit and then plowing ahead even harder. Most other girls would've minded that a lot more than I did, but the pain scrambled into pleasure in my twisted, kinky brain. I bucked my hips back to invite more of him in. longing for the moment his jewels would begin pounding against my restrained cunt. I moaned around the dick in my mouth at the thought. However, not all dicks are created equal and my moaning made the dick between my lips to pop-off, splashing my face with bitter seed.