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Patricia Becomes an Oreo Cream

She was impaled at both ends like a pig on a spit.

 

This Monday morning was a special day.

Patricia Clark was dressed in her second best business office outfit and was off to the center of town for her first day on the job at a large corporate location not far from the United Nations building.

The cosmetically perfect nineteen year old was excessively nervous and shaking inside from the fear and self-doubt of starting a new job in a strange place with no familiar faces around her and totally absent her reassuring parental support system.

She had carefully selected her best white French knickers with the intricate lace trim because they accentuated her gloriously tempting long legs and delicately curved buttocks when viewed from the rear. Of course, she had them well hidden with her modest just-below-the knee skirt that was a bit too conservative for fashionable display.

Her neighborhood in the slightly run-down East Bronx was a constant source of irritation to her because it was not the sort of place one would expect a gentleman of substance to visit in order to pick her up or deliver her safely back home after the sun had set on the dangerous city streets.

Patricia’s best friend Sandy’s brother, Clark, was waiting on the stoop to walk her to the subway platform. She was not overly pleased with his appearance in the slightly wrinkled shirt and terribly garish out-of-style tie that make him look slightly ridiculous in the early morning light.

Patricia hoped that none of the passers-by would think he was her boyfriend or anything like that because he had the disgraceful look of a loser. In a way, she considered her linkage to him was a fate worse than death and a sure-fire way to drive away possible proper candidates for giving her the sexual experience she so desperately wanted.

“Hi, Trisha, you look so nice this morning. I’m sure you are going to knock them out at the new job.”

She smiled up at the much taller Clark and allowed him to help her down the steep stoop steps that presented a challenge to her unfamiliar high heels with the platform angle. She was still a bit wobbly on them despite practicing a couple of hours in the privacy of her bedroom away from prying eyes. She had the long mirrors angled so she could see her backside as she walked and was more than satisfied with how shapely her bottom looked as she walked like a queen a full four inches higher on top of the dark black patent leather pumps that matched her shoulder strapped handbag.

Patricia was relieved that her bedroom had the totally uncoordinated area rug of many colors to muffle the staccato clicking sound of her stiletto designer heels because she didn’t want her parents to suspect she was desperately seeking a male companion that would speedily bury his cream-covered salami in her patiently waiting vagina without any need to promise either wedded bliss or even steady dating patterns. Her sense was that the longer the frowning Clark hovered over her like some guardian angel, the less chance she had of corralling a promising horizontal partner to reduce her sexual tension and show her some more advanced techniques of coupling outside of the bonds of matrimony.

If it wasn’t for Mister Jensen on the third floor, she would still be a blushing virgin with no idea of what to expect when a man talked her out of her undies and convinced her to bend over for a lesson in loving a married man. The poor man already had four little ones and she made certain he used a condom because his potency in producing little babies was already a proven fact.

She was confused and nervous until she felt his hardness pushing into her hairy bush and spreading her feminine lips with the skill of a well-practiced married man. Her dreaded cherry was a thing of the past in the blink of an eye and she was on the road to happy orgasms with absolutely no regrets or apologies to his wife for borrowing his services on the spur of the moment.

Unfortunately, after that brilliant beginning, Mister Jensen reverted to his perverted fetish of spanking her bare cheeks and planting his wonderful long thing in her backside instead of in her needy pussy. It was nice for a bit of variety, but she soon tired of his obsession and told him,

“I don’t want your business up my ass any more, Mister Jensen. I suggest you stick it up your wife’s backside, even if she makes you promise her the moon to turn over and get on her belly in bed with her ass up nice and high just like you make me do almost all the time.”

They smiled at each other in the hallway but that was the extent of it and it was probably for the best because his wife was ready to call it quits unless he showed her more attention.

*

The station platform was crowded indicating that the trains were running a little late this Monday morning.

Clark was holding her elbow, but they both knew as soon as the doors opened, they would be pushed and shoved apart by the crush of the crowd and she was not at all unhappy about that certainty because she knew he would rub his long dick on her thigh the entire trip. He had a nice feel to his hardness, but she felt Clark was not her type and wanted someone that would make her take it and not tell her how beautiful she was all the time. She had liked the way Mister Jensen had roughed her up sometimes and made her do things that she pretended made her feel degraded and humiliated all things considered. The truth of the matter was that his demands made her so excited sometimes that she had a quickie orgasm before things even got hot and heavy. It was something she would never admit to Mister Jensen and certainly would never tell anyone else because it would reveal the depths of her depraved thinking about illicit sex.

She saw Clark squeezed in behind a hefty attractive middle-aged woman with hips that promised a nice ride downtown between two soft pillows. He didn’t seem to mind too much because he was holding the pole in front of them with his arm that rubbed gently but insistently on her boob with the result that her nipples stood out like soldiers at attention in the crush of humanity.

Patricia managed to grab hold of a center pole to steady her body against the sway of the train as it rushed downtown at breakneck speed.

The young man in front of her turned around and suddenly his hardness was between her legs along with his book-bag that forced her to widen her knees to grant him entrance in hard and deep. In a few short minutes he had taken more of her favors than poor Clark could even barely imagine in his most satisfying dreams of copulating pleasures. At first, Patricia was angry at the young man’s aggressiveness, but after a few moments, she found that it was nice to just relax and ride the boy’s happy shaft like it was a lover’s tool of convenience. She closed her eyes and imagined that it was a romantic Italian artist stroking her feminine folds with the skill of a humping expert. The darkness of the boy’s skin didn’t bother her at all and she discovered the thought of a black male body invading her inner privacy was so exciting that she was on the verge of a tremendous orgasm.

The weight of another man behind her caught her attention and she looked over her shoulder to see another dark-skinned boy-man right behind her. He was slowly running his naughty fingers all over her French knickers covered ass squeezing and pinching her flesh like a familiar lover greeting his secret love in hidden passion.

When she tried to move forward to escape his relentless assault, all she accomplished was to place her pretty pussy on the spit of the other boy’s happy cock and make him smile with joy at her compliant pussy surrounding his hard erection. Her reaction was to move back and found that she only succeeded in giving up more of her ass-crack entryway to the other boy’s rock-hard erection touching her private brown eye with impetuous control.

It was a series of forward and back movements that eventually caused her to experience the most satisfying orgasm of her short sexual life.

It was impossible to hide her enjoyment from either of the boys and she knew that they were probably working together to exploit her youthful body for their own pleasure. It really didn’t make any difference to her at that moment because she could feel the wetness of the boy’s hardness between her ass cheeks start to dampen her French knickers and she hoped that his cream would soak into the material and not run down her legs with that slow trickle that made her feel like a slut of the worse sort.

Meanwhile, the boy in front was sliding his hands up under her blouse and cupping her push-up bra with his fingers. He twisted her nipples with serious intent to make her come to tears in front of all the people around them. The closest ones had suspicions that something was going on under her covering vest and widely spread knees. The women secretly wished they were in her position that accepted their presence without question. It was obvious that Patricia was experiencing multiple orgasms of the most depraved type and they were jealous of her ability to take it from both directions at the same time.

Right at that moment, the boy in front leaned forward and rested his head on her breast like a baby getting his milk from his mama. She heard him sigh and then felt the wetness spreading all over her French knickers already damp from the boy-juice sprinkled between her legs by the boy on her ass.

She saw the two boys wink at each other and knew for certain that they were working together.

Patricia felt the urge to squirt come over her and she was ashamed of her inability to hold it back any longer. Her pussy juice ran down the inside of her legs and into the dark black patent leather high heels like a signature of her wanton passion.

The two boys were fully aware of her naughty reaction and she knew that they would have high-fived each other if there was enough room to get their arms up and in position.  The boy behind her moved his hand frantically between her saturated ass cheeks and she knew he was enjoying her discomfort from his finger buried inside her brown eye.

The boy in front was still tweaking her nipples and each time he flicked her sensitive tip, she lost a bit more moisture from her leaking pubic area.

They were fast approaching the final stop and she was a bit lonely when the two boys pulled back from closely pressed contact. Her only hope was that Clark was not aware of her depraved reactions and that her shoes were not visibly damaged. It was important that she arrive at the new job with an air of ladylike modesty and she pushed all thoughts of the recent subway ride from her mind.

Maybe she would meet an eligible bachelor at the new job and he would ask her out to lunch and make her a proposition she might entertain with a spirit of trying new things and learning new ideas.

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

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