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From: goldrush@aussiemail.com.au (Goldrush)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 13 May 2004 20:42:56 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} A Poetry Recital, part 2 (M+/F, rp, v, oral, anal, ws, tort)
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Date: Fri, 14 May 2004 04:10:01 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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I can fuck for a long time without coming, even when I'm enjoying 
myself as much as I was then - so five minutes later I was still 
violating Alison's pretty face just as energetically, panting hard 
as I drove my massive, engorged cock deep into the velvet warmth of 
her throat.  The desperate gagging noises she was making were 
turning me on even more, so that the more she fought for air, the 
harder I humped her face and the less air she got - a little awkward 
for her, but hugely erotic for me.

Pete seemed to be having an equally good time between her legs.  His 
cock is about nine inches long when it's fully erect, and he had 
every last inch buried in Alison's pretty little snatch as he 
deflowered her with groans of delight.

But it's not a picnic if all you eat is cake.  We were soon ready to 
swap ends, which was accomplished with the minimum of fuss as Alison 
was half-unconscious from the throat-fucking and in no position to 
object.

I think Pete shoved his massive phallus into her mouth just as she 
was starting to recover her senses.  Certainly her eyes went wide 
and she gave an urgent "Mmmph!" around his shaft.

"Ding dong!" said Pete.  "Rapist calling!"

Then he started to make energetic love to Alison's lovely face, at 
exactly the same time that I shoved my blood-heavy prong up her 
twatgash.

Once again we raped our beautiful girlfriend at both ends, 
ignoring her discomfort as we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves 
with her irresistible orifices.  If anything, Pete was being 
more brutal with her mouth than I'd been: he kept most of his 
dick in her mouth the whole time, thrusting into her face with 
short but forceful strokes, the sound of her muffled gagging 
music to his lustful ears.

Her cunt was fantastic - every bit as tight as Pete had said 
it was, but somewhat lubed up now by her body's natural 
response to the vigorous fucking she'd already received.  
It was a tunnel of velvet, and I raped it with great delight.

Then suddenly Pete pulled out of her mouth and gave me a 
look - an excited, eager look.

"Pull her round," he said.

I didn't get what he meant at first, but he started to haul 
our limp, dazed fuck-toy around so that she was lying cross-ways 
on the bed, her head dangling over the edge.

"As you were," Pete said with a grin, climbing off the bed 
and straddling Alison's head.

I shoved my cock back into her twatgash with a grunt of 
delight - but I didn't thrust for a moment, wanting to 
see what Pete had on his mind.

He was thinking about ease of access.  With Alison's head now 
lolling off the edge of the bed, her throat was one straight 
line leading from her mouth to her stomach.  Pete shoved his 
cock into her face again, but this time he didn't stop - he 
just kept feeding it in.

Thoroughly galvanised by panic, Alison struggled wildly.  I 
dropped my weight down onto her and pinned her hands by her 
sides.  Without breaking rhythm, Pete continued to shove his 
immense, fat cock inch by inch down her gullet.  I could 
actually see the thickness of his shaft bulging out her throat.  
He didn't stop until his balls were lying on the bridge of her 
nose, and his cock was root-deep in her face.  Alison's hands 
were trembling at her sides, fighting against me, but I was a 
lot stronger than her especially as the oxygen starvation 
kicked in.

"How does it feel?" I asked Pete.

"Fucking lovely," he groaned.

"She's going to die, though," I pointed out tactfully.

"I know, I know," he grunted, and pulled part-way out again.  
Alison inhaled noisily around the great shaft that was still 
embedded in her face.  Then with one accord we both started 
humping her again.

I couldn't hold back any more.  With a yell of delight, I 
blasted Alison's womb with my pent-up seed - and a moment 
later, Pete gave an almost agonised groan as he abruptly 
froze with his cock deep in Alison's face.  I saw her throat 
work desperately as she struggled to cope with the generous 
flood of semen he was pumping down her gullet.  She must have 
felt like she was drowning in it, and Pete's huge, thick organ 
filled her mouth too completely for any of the stuff to escape, 
so there was only one place for it to go.

Thoroughly satisfied, at least for the moment, we climbed off 
Alison and let her get her breath back.  She was moaning and 
whimpering, curled up into a foetal ball on the bed, so we 
ignored her for a few minutes and shared a can of lager.

"What's the most times you've done it in a night?" Pete asked 
me conversationally.

"Four," I said.  "That was a rape, too, funnily enough.  
Down in Cheshunt."

"Was I there for that?" he asked.

"Don't think so.  Swedish au pair from the estate where 
Mick was living.  Silver blonde.  Tasty number she was."

"Petra?"

"Yeah, that was her name.  How'd you know?"

"Mick told me about that one.  He made her suck off 
his dog."

"Yeah."  I grinned, remembering.  "Fucking amazing.  Mind 
you, no-one wanted to use her mouth again afterwards."

"When are the other guys getting here?" I asked Pete, and 
there was a wail of despair from Alison.  Weak as she was, 
she tumbled off the bed and made a limping run for the door.  
Pete tripped her up and she went down heavily.  We carried 
her back to the bed and dumped her unceremoniously down on it.

"I said it was going to be a big party, Alison," I reminded 
her.  "And I told all the blokes what I told you - no partners.  
So I hope you don't mind if they all have a go on you."

Talking about past rapes had got us good and horny, so we made 
her go down on us again.  In no time we were as strainingly 
erect as we'd been the first time around.  A rape will do that 
for you - it inspires you to efforts you didn't know you could make.

This time we decided to sample the delights of Alison's 
arsehole.  So I anointed her bum with KY jelly as Pete 
vigorously raped her face.  Then I held her down on the 
bed while he shoved his prong up her arse.

Alison's face was a picture.  "Oh!  Oh!  Oh!" she gasped.  
"Oh god!"  Then she became inaudible and incoherent, just 
babbling whispered half-words as Pete's monstrous dick 
pounded away at her guts.

Then I got my turn.  She was insanely tight down there, and 
I almost came again after only a few minutes of rampageously 
buggering her.  I had to pull out and take a breather.

It was at this point that the doorbell rang.  It was Mick 
and John, and they were well impressed when they saw Alison.

"Nice tits!" said John approvingly.

"Whoa!  Me next up her arse!" said Mick.

Pete was buggering her again, but her mouth was free so John 
got his cock out and shoved it into her face.  "Oh yeaaaah!" he
groaned.  "That's fucking lovely!"  Soon he was crudely humping
Alison's flushed, dazed face as Pete mercilessly reamed out 
her bum.

They both came at the same time, John hosing her tonsils with 
his first load of the evening while Pete planted a packet 
deep up in her back passage.

By this time me and John were extremely aroused from watching 
them, and we fell on Alison like a pair of wild animals.  John 
ferociously screwed her face while I fucked her cunt and her 
arse alternately, finally spending my load in her bumhole.  
John held out a few minutes longer, but soon enough he was 
pressing Alison's face tightly to his crotch as he orgasmed 
explosively right down her throat.

Then it was another round of Alison licking and sucking us 
hard while we played with her tits and her cunt.  She was 
looking a bit the worse for wear by this time - her face 
bruised both from the slaps she'd got and from hard sexual 
usage, her tits red and sore where we'd chewed on them, 
her hair plastered to her face with drying cum.  She looked 
like a well-used whore, and we all felt a surge of pride 
and arousal just looking at her.  The way she looked was the 
result of all our efforts.

An hour or so later we'd all fucked Alison and come in her at 
least three times each.  It was time for some games to spice 
up the sex and get us turned on again.  We started off with 
the objects game.  We made Alison lie down on the bed with 
her legs spread wide apart.  She had to hook her hands behind 
her knees and keep her legs spread, otherwise she got a slap 
or a nipple twist from the guy who was nearest.

Then we each got out the objects we'd brought.  The aim was to 
come up with something vaguely phallic, but outrageously long 
and thick.  The objects would be lined up according to majority 
vote, and the biggest one that we could actually shove up 
Alison's cunt would win the guy who'd brought it a prize.

John had brought one of those fake Oscars that say WORLD'S 
GREATEST LOVER.  He forced it up Alison's snatch without 
preamble, and though it made her moan and sob, she took it 
without too much trouble.  Pete tried to argue that it 
didn't count unless John got the base inside her cunt too, 
but John appealed the decision and the vote went his way.

Mick produced - with a flourish - a huge cucumber (a 
perennial favourite) and artificially raped Alison with 
it to cheers and ribald comments about five helpings 
of vegetables.  She was moaning "oh god! Oh god!" in a 
weak voice, over and over again, but she was too afraid 
of the consequences to try to close her legs, and 
ultimately Mick was able to cram the whole ridiculous 
length of the cucumber up her snatch.

Pete's offering was just a dildo - but it was a dildo 
about a foot long and proportionately thick.  It took 
all his strength to get it rammed up her, and Alison 
actually fainted before he'd finished, but eventually 
the base of the massive thing was protruding only half 
an inch or so from her cunt lips.

That left me, but I wasn't quite ready yet.  "I'll 
be showing you my object shortly," I assured them.  
"For now, we'll postpone the vote and go on to game 
two."  There were protests, but they were good-
natured.  Everyone was enjoying themselves.  Well, 
everyone except Alison, of course.

The second game was something I'd laid on specially 
for her.

"Now you may not know it," I said to the guys, "but 
our hostess tonight is a bit of a poet on the quiet, 
and she's brought some of her work along to read to us."

There were jeers and catcalls, and Alison turned a 
stricken face towards me.  This was a kind of rape 
she hadn't imagined.

Ignoring her pleading eyes, I thrust the IDEAS book 
into her hands.  "Read us a poem," I told her.  "And 
make it good.  I want lots of feeling and expression.  
Give it to me, or you're going to be really sorry."

The guys looked on, puzzled but interested.  With 
trembling hands, Alison leafed through the book, 
and finally found a poem she felt she could deal with.

"In nature's touch," she recited, quavering but audible, 
"there is a script, That in full darkness must be read.  
And if we run our fingers down the lines..."

She didn't get any further, because I jumped onto the 
bed, crammed my hard-on into her mouth and began to 
violently fuck her face.  She choked and gurgled, taken 
completely by surprise by the crude and brutal oral 
assault.  I kept it up for about twenty seconds, really 
driving my dick into her throat, banging my balls on 
her chin at each thrust.

Then I pulled out again, and ignoring her coughing and 
her watering eyes I gave her an impatient wave.

"Keep going," I said - and when she didn't start reading 
again, I grabbed her bruised nipple and twisted it hard, 
eliciting a wail of anguish from her.  "Keep going," 
I repeated, sternly.  "We don't want any breaks."

"If - - if we run," Alison babbled, "our fingers down 
the lines, we see the gaps where reason's blind.  We see - - "

Pete had got the point of the game by this time.  He 
jumped onto the bed, force-fed Alison his massive prong, 
and started to hump her mouth with furious energy.  
Holding a double handful of her hair, he drove her face 
into his crotch, brutally slam-fucking her throat,  
Then he stopped as abruptly as I had, and backed off.

Alison was crying freely now, but she knew what was 
expected of her and she carried on.  "We see the 
silent spaces fill with arguments we cannot choose 
but know.  And each ellipsis says - - gwmmph  ukkkk 
gwrrr!"  This time she got a mouthful - and a throatful - 
of Mick's massive erection, and he proceeded to fuck 
her face so forcefully that I was sure she was going 
to choke to death on his cock.

By the time she got to the end of the poem, we'd all 
raped her mouth four or five times, and her face was 
flushed, her eyes glazed, her voice unsteady.

"B... by this world's bounty gent... gently kissed," she 
whispered, and floundered into silence.

"That was lovely, Alison," I said, solemnly.  "Now 
I'm going to critique it first."  I gripped her head 
in my hands and drove her face down onto my cock, 
spearing her lips and driving my blood-gorged shaft 
deep into her throat.  I fucked her gullet with no 
holds barred, groaning in delight, as she gagged 
and moaned around my invading member.  I let my 
climax overtake me, felt my cock explode deep in 
her throat, and held her impaled on it as I hosed 
her tonsils with jet after jet of thick spunk.  
When I let go of her she slid limply down onto the 
bed, drooling cum from the corners of her mouth.

"Does anyone else have an opinion on Alison's poem?" 
I asked.

"Oh yeah," said Pete, with a wicked grin.  He didn't 
bother to haul her upright - he just climbed on top 
of her and shoved his gigantic organ directly into 
her face as though her mouth was her cunt.  He fucked 
her face so forcefully that her head was bouncing off 
the bed, and his swollen glans must have been slamming 
into her tonsils like a boxer's fist into a punchball.  
Her hands fluttered weakly, but there was nowhere to 
go to escape the cruel violation.  

While Pete was enjoying Alison's pretty face, Mick 
got her legs apart and shoved his cock up her already 
violated arse.  Soon they were shagging her in unison, 
and most of Alison's lovely body was out of sight under 
their bucking, humping backs.  We cheered them on 
with glee.

Finally Pete came with a mighty yell, and Alison's throat 
bobbed as she desperately tried to cope with his outpouring 
seed before it choked her.  A few seconds later, Mick 
groaned and filled her arsehole with his cum.  Then they 
both reluctantly climbed off her, spent for the moment.

Alison was spent too.  She just lay there with her eyes 
half-open, moaning in pain, cum oozing from her cunt 
and bumhole to pool on the bed between her legs.

"Now," I said, "I still have to produce my object for 
game one."  There was a chorus of agreement, and then 
an expectant silence.  Enjoying the anticipation I was 
creating, I picked up Alison's IDEAS notebook from the 
bed, where it had fallen as we took our pleasure on 
her.  Slowly, deliberately, I rolled it into a tube.

Abused and broken as she was, Alison tried to sit 
upright when she saw what I was doing.  Mick held 
her down, and Pete and John pulled her legs wide apart.

"No!" Alison gurgled, in a choking voice.  "Joe, don't!  
Please don't!"

I gripped the rolled-up notebook tightly in my hand 
and positioned it at the fork of her crotch.  "It was 
your poetry that first brought us together, Alison," 
I said.  "So this feels very right, somehow."  It 
took a lot of effort - even rolled up tight, the 
notebook was thick and unwieldy - but I managed to 
force a couple of inches of it up Alison's snatch, 
and after that it was a little easier.  She wailed 
in agony, but that didn't stop me - I kept pushing, 
and when some internal barrier blocked my way I 
slammed the book with the heel of my hand, hammering it in.

This made Alison faint again, and since all our cocks were 
raw and tender from too much exercise it seemed a good place 
to bring the evening to a close.  As per our usual tradition, 
we put her in the bath first and pissed all over her, which 
woke her up a little bit.  Pete shoved his dick into her 
mouth and made her drink his piss, which is a bit of a 
fetish of his.  The rest of us just hosed her face and 
tits, or in John's case her cunt.  The IDEAS book was 
still sticking out between her legs at this point, so 
it got quite wet - but then we'd shot so much spunk 
into her hole between the four of us, the book was 
probably already pretty much ruined.  

Then we carried her down to the car and dumped her in.

Pete drove and I sat in the back with her to make sure 
she didn't do anything crazy like jump out while we were 
moving.  She was too weak for that, though: we'd fucked 
her half to death.

At one point she stirred, her eyes focused, and she 
looked up at me.

"Why, Joe?" she whispered, through cracked and 
swollen lips.

I shook my head, giving a half-shrug.

"Alison," I said, smiling fondly down at her, "it was your 
poems or your cunt.  I think we made the right choice."

We dropped her off close to the campus, and threw her 
clothes out after her.  The last I saw of her, she was 
trying to get her poetry book out of her cunthole 
one-handed, the other hand covering her breasts in an 
endearing instinct of modesty.

So there you go.  The fuck to end all fucks, in many 
respects.  And I'm not sorry we gang-raped Alison.  
But I do miss her sometimes, and I wonder what might 
have happened if I'd asked her out on a regular date.

Acting on impulse, you see.  It leaves you with a lot 
of might-have-beens to ponder.

Now let me tell you about sweet little Jennifer...

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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