Having A Party

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Two beach goers consider crashing a party.
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Ashson
Ashson
8,497 Followers

Cynthia and I had been spending our holidays at the beach. Not that we had much choice, our parents dragged us down here, but we were managing to keep busy. We'd both finished school and after these holidays we had to find work and support ourselves. We hoped that if we both got reasonable jobs we'd be able to pool our money and get a place of our own to rent. I mean, we didn't want to live with our parents now we're eighteen. I don't want to have to explain why I was out so late every time I have a date or have my father give a boyfriend the third degree when he comes to pick me up.

On this particular day, it had been hot and muggy, but with evening setting in a light breeze was coming in off the ocean and it was delightful outside. It was still twilight so Cynthia and I were strolling along the beach, just chatting and enjoying ourselves.

It was still twilight, and probably would be for another hour, and we could see quite a way. There was a lot of activity further down the beach and we headed slowly in that direction.

As we got nearer it became plain that someone was having a party, and quite a noisy one at that.

"Shall we join the fun?" I asked Cynthia. I didn't mind gate-crashing someone's party and I'm quite sure the party goers weren't going to object to a couple of attractive young things joining them.

"Ah, I'm not sure that we should," Cynthia demurred. "I've heard that some pretty wild parties go on along here at times. I'm told that the police have raided several of them already this year. It could be dangerous."

"So what? We just wander in and take a look and if we don't like what we see we wander on out again."

"Um, yeah, if they let us. That's what one of the police raids was about. Some party goers grabbed some local girls and dragged them to their party. One of the girls had to ring the cops so they could get away."

That put a different slant on things. Who wanted to find themselves stuck in what could be a really nasty party?

"I'll tell you what. If we go into the dunes back there we can sort of edge up to the party and view them from a safe distance. If it looks dicey we can get the hell out of there."

A plan decided on we started moving through the dunes, looking for a nice vantage point to review the goings on. We were just starting to climb up a dune that I thought would give us an excellent view when there was this growling voice behind us.

Geez, we jumped. The guy just seemed to have emerged out of thin air.

"And just what do you two think you're doing? Sneaking around looking for pickings for light fingers?"

We both spun around and looked at the growler. He looked huge, towering over us and wider than both of us put together. That was my impression, anyway. Despite the heat he was all dressed up in leathers with lots of studs. You know the type of guy you don't want to meet in a dark alley? Take it from me, you don't want to meet that guy in the dunes at night, even if it was still twilight.

"Ah, we were just going to do a discrete check on the party," I gabbled.

"Right," said Cynthia. "We don't mean any harm. We just wanted to know if it was the sort of part that is safe to attend."

"Mm, fair enough, I guess. Why don't you finish climbing up that little hill and tell me what you think."

I'd already decided that if he was the sort of person hanging around this party then it wasn't a party that I wanted to attend. I tactfully refrained from saying so and scooted up to the top of the dune with Cynthia and peeked over to see what was going on.

The first thing I noticed was looked like hundreds of motor-bikes, although it was probably far less than that. Still, several dozen of them. With the motor-bikes were the riders, all seeming to favour black leather, studs, and chains. There were a number of women scattered around, half of whom seemed to be topless. If drink and drugs weren't freely available I'd hate to imagine what sort of party would have them.

The only point in favour of this party was that the cops wouldn't raid them. The army might, but nothing less than that.

"God! Definitely not our scene," I whispered to Cynthia.

"You aren't kidding. Have you seen what's happening on the beach?"

I looked and blushed. How could they do that sort of thing in public? Looking at one couple it seemed the question should be how can you DO that sort of thing.

Cynthia and I backed hastily down to where that guy was standing, glowering at us.

"Ah, not our scene," I said quickly. "We'll head off back where we came from."

"Thought you might," he rumbled. "First, payment for the sentry."

Cynthia and I looked at each other.

"Ah, excuse me?" said Cynthia.

"One of the perks of being the man on lookout duty. I get to entertain any would-be gate-crashers. Like you two. You're both lucky and unlucky. Lucky that it's me who's going to entertain you, unlucky in that I'll only be entertaining one of you."

"Um, what exactly do you mean by entertain?" I asked.

"Geez, don't be fucking naïve. What the hell do you think I mean? Who's going to be the lucky girl?"

To emphasize what he meant he was already running his zip down.

"Oh, no," said Cynthia. "Not me. You wanted to check out the party, Lucy. You deal with him."

"Me?" I squealed. "No way. Look at the size of him."

Ah, at this stage I was just referring to his total stature. He was a very big man. I was not making any comments about any more personal attributes he may have had.

"Yeah, you," he said. "Your friend volunteered you first, Lucy, so you're the one. You can call me Cecil."

"I am not the one and why would I want to call you Cecil?"

"Ah, because that's my name? Have you any objection to me being named Cecil? And you are the one, whether you like it or not."

"Well I don't like it?"

"Why not? What's wrong with being called Cecil?"

Was he kidding me?

"I was referring to entertaining you, not your name," I said carefully. "I have no desire to entertain you and you can't make me."

"You'll find that I can but you'll just do as you're told. Consider the situation. If you scream, the boys will hear and you'll find you have to entertain more than just me. If you struggle, the boys might hear, etcetera, etcetera. Are you sure you want to find both you and your friend entertaining me and my friends?"

I was looking around, appalled. We couldn't run. Not really. We'd probably be chased by the whole pack and brought down like deer running from wolves, although the wolves would only eat the deer. Cynthia just gave a helpless shrug when I looked at her and I suppose I'd have done the same if she was the chosen one.

I shouldn't have wasted time trying to think my way through the situation. I should have just bolted in one direction, telling Cynthia to run in another and call the police. He could only chase one of us and the other would have time to call before any of the other bikies caught on to what was going on and once we'd called they wouldn't have dared do anything.

By the time I reached this conclusion Cecil had a firm grip on my arm and the point was moot. I wasn't running anywhere and Cynthia wouldn't leave me while he was holding me. Loyal to a fault was Cynthia, although I could have done with less loyalty and more thinking at that point.

I couldn't risk screaming or fighting and had no choice but to do what Cecil wanted. Cecil? I ask you. Why couldn't he have had a name like Brutus or Rocky? With no real effort on his part he had me down on my hands and knees, one hand on my back making sure I stayed there.

After that he just pushed my dress up out of his way and dropped my panties. I said some rude things when his hand covered my mound but he ignored me, just gently rubbing me. That's right, gently. Nothing rough and ready about this guy.

He took his time, fondling me and caressing me, coaxing a response out of my pussy and, damn him, it was working. I could feel myself getting aroused, heat pooling deep inside me, moisture starting to run down my passage, the moisture seeming to spread the heat.

With his free hand he was pushing my dress higher until he could unclip my bra. After that it was one hand on my pussy while the other played with my breasts and my arousal became fiercer and my temper spiralled upwards with my arousal. He had no damn right to be able to do this to

me.

He finally reached around me and had both his hands on my breasts. His erection was pressed against me, wedged against my bottom. I was wondering when he'd make his next move when he spoke.

"OK, girly," he said. "It's time for you to get in on the act."

I was like, what? Then I heard Cynthia say precisely that.

"What, me?" she asked, sounding surprised.

"Yes, you. Little Lucy here is ready, and I'm ready, but my hands are occupied. You'll have to steer us together."

Another agonised, "What?" from Cynthia and a laugh from Cecil.

"All you need to do is part her lips with one hand and steer me into place with the other. We'll take it from there."

There was, I told myself, no known way that Cynthia would do what he wanted. Then the stupid bitch giggled, giggled if you please, and I could feel her hand on me easing my lips apart.

"Oh, my gawd, Lucy," she gasped. "You should see the size of this thing."

I didn't want to see the size. I most especially didn't want to feel the size, but I wasn't getting any choice. Cynthia was really doing it; helping line his cock up with my pussy. I felt his cock being rubbed against my lips and then Cynthia said, "Push." Push be damned. She'd better have been talking to Cecil because if she expected me to push onto that thing she was badly mistaken.

Cecil knew his duty. He pushed on command and I was like, "Argh. Oh my god, what is that?"

Well, I knew what it was. I just didn't want to believe it. I wouldn't believe it. I was in a state of denial over the next few minutes, telling myself this couldn't be true. That didn't exactly help me at all. Cecil kept up a long slow push, his erection stretching and filling, stretching and filling. I couldn't even complain that he was hurting me, because he wasn't. It just seemed inevitable, and my passage just stretched and accepted him, letting him take me without the slightest protest.

Then his groin was bouncing of my pussy and he was returning from when he came.

"We'll just take it nice and easy to get you accustomed to it," he told me, and at the same time his cock was charging in again, his groin hitting mine with a wet sounding slap. And he was already returning for his third thrust and I was frantically trying to adjust to this frenetic assault. Good grief, it this was nice and easy, what was he like once he got going?

I was to find out. I adjusted to him. Really I did. I was pushing back and taking him deep, even if he was moving a bit fast, so what did he do? He went faster. I'd be left playing catch up and, when I did, he'd put on another spurt. Did he think this was a race?

Finally he settled down to a steady pace, if you can consider a full on gallop a steady pace. I was panting and gasping, trying to catch my breath. I hadn't exercised this strenuously since forever. On the other hand, I have to admit I hadn't felt this aroused in the same length of time.

His cock was dominating me via my pussy, while his hands launched a second assault via my breasts. My body was reacting and doing what it wanted to and there was nothing I could do to control it. The only bright spot as far as I could tell was that I had no breath spare to speak. I had a nasty feeling that if I had had I would have been cheering him on and that would have been totally humiliating.

He seemed to be going for ever and I was seriously beginning to doubt that I could stay with him for much longer. If I didn't get a second wind soon I was going to collapse. It turned out that I did collapse, but it wasn't because of not getting a second wind. I climaxed and just totally lost whatever breath I had, shuddering and gasping for some, totally done.

I was vaguely aware that he was climaxing but that was of no interest to me. I was just trying to determine if I was still alive. I finally got myself together and looked around and he wasn't there.

"He went prowling off amongst the dunes," Cynthia said. "He said we'd better go and to be quick about it. He also was very firm about us not coming back. He said the other guard who patrolled the party was called Rocky and that he was a big dick with a little dick and an attitude. Not all nice and kind like Cecil."

I hurriedly tidied my clothes and we got the hell away from there. Despite myself I found I was curious about one thing. I fought it for a while but finally turned to Cynthia with a sigh.

"So tell me, Cyn, seeing you managed to get a grip on that thing of his, just how big was it? I couldn't really tell from my side of it."

"You're lying, Cyn," I stated flatly as she giggled and used her hands to demonstrate his size. "I'd be dead if he'd had that much. Tell me the truth, damn it."

Ashson
Ashson
8,497 Followers
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AnonymousAnonymousabout 8 years ago
Hopefully the last 4 paragraphs are a set up for a sequel.

Hopefully the last four paragraphs are a set up for a sequel.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 8 years ago
More drivel

From the Master of Drivel.

LordSlamdawggLordSlamdawggabout 8 years ago
40 years from now

Cecil will be an esteemed , elder statesman comedian. Cynthia and the narrator will br represented in a class action suit against him and receive an out of court settlement of one billion dollars for their pain and suffering. Gloria Alred will handle the case of course.

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