Roger Hornsby - The sex procurer

Hell no, it wasn't about to be over so soon. There was still more to come. You bet there was. When I finally came, after she had exploded eight times in a row and was crying for me to stop, I pulled my dick from her in a lightning stroke, climbed atop her body, straddled her face, and shot my load directly into her eyes. That's right. I didn't bother with her cunt or mouth; hell no; I went right after her eyes, and I blinded her with my come, spilling it solidly into her damned eyes.

But it still wasn't over. While she tried to fight me away, yet weakly did so because of her exhaustion, I smeared the come all over her face, using my dick as a brush, applying the creamy solution like a woman swabs her face with beauty oil. And I laughed as I creamed her so.

And I still wasn't done. Hell no. I began fucking her ears. My rod was solid despite my come, something I've trained myself long to have; and I began fucking her ears while she cried and frantically tried to get back her sight. She was too exhausted to make much of a fight, and I usually pounded her head when she tried; so I succeeded in coming in one of her ears, after a very long ride in which I repeatedly rammed my cock at her ears, first one and then the other, turning her head left and right as I needed to turn it. And I laughed while I shot my load down that ear. It was a beautiful thing to witness, trust me.

I still wasn't done with her, though. Hell no. I went back to fucking her with the plaster prick. But now I inserted it to her asshole and reamed her behind. She screamed from the pain, and I sent it in as far as it would go, and began an endless rhythm, just fucking, fucking, endlessly fucking. She kept screaming, and I kept fucking, and soon my rhythm got hold of her and she started turning her ass just the way she would if it was in her hole. She turned and rolled and humped and jabbed, all the time howling like a dog in heat. And I laughed as I screwed her to a series of new comes which left her more limp than ever.

Then I made her suck me off. She was too beaten to protest. I shoved her off the bed, watched her flop to the floor, picked her up and propped her at the side of the bed, straddled her face, locking my thighs around her neck, and made her suck me off. Naturally I could take forever before I came; and I kept her sucking me the whole time. It was beautiful. When I started to come, I jerked my dong from her mouth and shot new cream to her bleared eyes. She screamed again.

But I still wasn't done. Hell no. And this was the best part, something I've saved to tell you even now. This was the very best part – for, you see, I had brought some leather straps with me, and also a pair of walking canes. Do you get the picture? I hope so.

Yes; the next thing I did was to lift her broken body, wrap it in leather, and I tied it on nails that I quickly hammered against her closet doors. And then I got hold of one cane, and began walloping her. I walloped the shit out of her. I flailed her tits till they bled. I beat her body with a vengeance. I smashed her, left and right, then took the second cane to accompany the first and do a better job. I held one cane in each hand and bludgeoned the shit out of her.

And when she had fainted, simply dropped her head to her big boobs, and couldn't protest even with a whimper, I went between her legs with one cane, inserted it to her vag, and shoved it as far as it would go, ramming it up all the way in her vag, damned well trying to force it into her womb. And then I spread her cunt and inserted the other cane too, and I began a powerful bludgeoning up her vag, ramming at her uterus, determined to crush that bitch. Oh I gave it to her beautifully.

But I still wasn't done. No. I dropped her from those straps, let her fall straight to the floor. She toppled in a way that knocked her teeth on the head of the bed and I watched them chip. I laughed at that, then kicked her over onto her belly, spread her legs, and shoved the first of those two canes up her bunghole. Then I sent the second up, and I began fucking the shit out of her behind, shoving them just as far as I possibly could shove them. And when I was done I left her that way, two canes up her tail. And I got the hell out of there.

What a beautiful sight it would be, to see her waking up with two canes in her asshole. What an absolutely ravishing sight!

Then I hit the road again, getting the hell out of that town, laughing to myself as I remembered Miss Snob. She would be damned careful in the future whom she put the snub on, trust me – if she lived to even consider putting the snub on anybody. Bitch.

Meanwhile I roamed the land, taking ass where I felt like taking it. I realized again and again that a broad stinks, that a bitch will do anything to be fucked, that everything chaste about a broad is in the guy's mind, not in the girl's cunt. And I wanted to do something bigger than ever. Somehow I wanted to do something I never had done before. So I decided to go all the way.

I put an ad in some underground newspapers: "Swinging male with plenty of go wants to meet hip chick with like motivations." And I listed a number for them to ring, "day or night".

I got plenty of calls, you can be sure. Oh, a lot of them were thrill-seekers with nothing to deliver, but you'd be surprised how you can work those over, too, if you handle the situation right. Here's how: Don't mouth off about yourself. That's the mistake most guys make. They think they can ball a chick by giving her dimensions over the phone, and they yak about their sex prowess the whole damned time they're on the line. It doesn't excite a girl to tell her you can give her a jazzing. But it excites her like crazy if you sweet-talk her into thinking that she's the most formidable fuck in the world.

Now that's difficult on a phone, and you can't be the big comic artist, either. You've got to smooth-talk her down the line to that point where, excited about her own possibilities, she'll ring you again to hear praise of herself. After a couple of times like that, she'll stop being the thrill-seeker who called you originally just to be part of an act and she'll start wanting the real thrills that were always behind her motivation. That's when you can cash in your chips for more nookie.

It was exactly those that I went after with my ads. I couldn't care less about the real swingers. I wanted the smart ass kind who read those ads, feel secure and snug at the end of a phone line, and laugh at the ad-maker behind his back. I wanted to get those babies.

And I did. It took awhile, and I lost some in the process, but I got the number I wanted: a solid dozen. That's right. I lined one solid dozen of them up, arranged to meet them, got together with them, and put the tag on each, luring them to my pad after a reasonable time and when I figured their hots were sufficient to insure they would show.

They did – on the same day, exactly as I had planned it. Oh yes I worked that out too. I had them all arrive on the same day at the same hour, got them all into the room together, and then watched the fireworks start. Do you know what I'm talking about? Figure it for yourself: twelve broads, finally lured to a place where they think they're going to be the individual star with no competitors around. And what do they find? Eleven other broads with the same notion. It does something to the female ego, I assure you.

For one thing it makes them very competitive. I've always noticed that about twats when they're faced with another vying for someone's affections upon which they're dependent. They're pissy. You can be sure they'd shoot to kill if you handed them a gun. And you can be sure, minus gun, they'll do everything in their power to snare the man whose snaring will set them up as queen bee.

So I proceeded to work on their egos. I suggested that they strip in order to prove their worth. It was a gamble, and they bitched, some even threatening to leave; but I lined them all up naked just the same. As I've said, over and over, broads like to take off their clothes. If men ever understood this, they wouldn't hesitate to offer a broad that possibility. I don't know what it is about the female mind, but something in them makes them think they're worth looking at naked. And they'll take off their clothes every time they get a chance.