The Crab

Next thing I knew I was at another bar, Henry had his tongue down a pro's throat, he was massaging her arse and she was aggressively rubbing his cock. At another bar Jonny was surrounded by girls, he was spilling the contents of his wallet onto the counter, buying whiskey and beers for them all, his hands all over them.

An Indian pro came up to me, she wasn't very attractive, but I didn't mind. She made me buy her a drink, and after another whiskey she was looking alright. She dry humped me for a bit, which got me going, and I was reaching into her pants and trying to force a cheeky finger up the horse before I paid for her. Harry walked over, (for the sake of this blog I'll protect his dignity and say that he'd drank more than just two Changs), and next thing we were asking her how much it would cost for a threesome. She named a price and the money was handed over to a fat woman who was presumably her pimp. It's going to be hard when I get back to Newcastle not to try and buy girls.

We ended up in a club with her, both of us taking turns to pull and grope her. The whole club was filled with sex tourists (me and Harry being two of them) and prostitutes. People were having sex in the toilets, fingering pros up against the bar, fat men were dancing with their young boys, cheesy music was blasting. I just wanted to get back. We stumbled back up Bangla Road, Harry carrying her handbag, both of us holding her hand, pretty much dragging her back.

She began things shyly, sitting down on the bed, looking at her feet, asking if she could have a drink. No, you can't have a drink. I hid the contents of the mini bar in my bag and then opened the fridge to show her that there was nothing to drink. She then started going on about how she'd only sleep with us one at a time and that she needed to shower alone first. We'd found the only fucking frigid prostitute in the world. But we were determined and weren't going to give up. She made us both get a shower, and I hurriedly washed my cock, returning to the bedroom with my piece semi erect hanging out. But she still wasn't having it.

'Harry, go to the bathroom for a bit, I'll talk her into it.'

Harry left, and I put my arm around her and told her not to worry (just writing this is making me realise how wrong, but how fucking good the night actually was). She was in her towel, legs crossed and I gently pushed her back onto the bed and kissed her. She responded and slowly moved her tongue into my mouth. I was agitated with the pace at which things were going, so I pushed two fingers up her cunt. It was wet from the shower. She pushed her head back and closed her eyes and let out a little moan. She had a small tuft of pubic hair, well kept, she was tight and warm. I took my fingers out, glistening, and pushed them into her mouth. (Fuck, I'm actually hard writing this). And so it began.

Harry came back from the bathroom, cock out, nipple ring shining and made his way over to the bed. It began with her skipoling us, but we got bored of that, so took turns at letting her blow us. We both fingered her at the same time, forcing our hands right up, making her moan and squeal, she was soaking, a patch of wet on the bed. I was rock hard, the whiskey and red bull had given me the stamina and there wasn't a chance I was finishing quickly.

'Harry', I whispered, 'can you feel like two lumps in her minge?'
'What?'
'Can you feel like two balls right up in her minge?'
'One sec,' he said and pushed his fingers higher up her. 'No, not really.'
'You sure she's not a man?'
'Yea, I'm sure.'
'Well fuck it, we've come this far, no point worrying now.'

She had a tiny body, narrow hips, skinny legs, small brown tits with big hard nipples, a small birth mark, chocolate brown on her inner thing.

So Harry was taking her from behind whilst I forced my cock into the back of her throat, pushing her head down making her choke and gasp for breath. Tears in her eyes. Harry was spanking her, and we swapped. I forced myself hard into her, long powerful thrusts, my gut slamming against her arse, sweat all over me, panting.

A knock at the door. Two prostitutes, followed by a naked Jonny. The three pros went into the bathroom and Jonny told us that he'd made his sick by fucking her throat too hard. Henry had been a bit violent with his, and so both of them needed a break and had come up to my room. Me and Jonny had a cigarette and a beer to recharge, and Harry lay back on the bed massaging his piece. It was a horrible horrible fucking scene. And it was only just beginning.

They left and it was back to action. She kept taking my condom off, so I've definitely got AIDS now. I was too drunk to know what she was doing. Did I lick her out? Even worse, did I lick her out after me and Harry had been fucking her for twenty minutes? I was pulling out Bateman moves, tensing my weak flabby arms, watching myself fuck her in the mirror, running my hand through my greasy wet hair. Harry was high fiving me, and then spanking me, and I was screaming, and then I was slapping his arse.

Then we started spanking her again, this time as hard as we could, leaving red marks on her arse and back. She seemed to be enjoying it though and we let her slap us a bit. There were condoms all over the room by this point. I wanted to work her arse for a bit, but it was dry, so I sent Harry on the lube hunt, and he came back excitedly with hair conditioner from the bathroom and lathered her arse and back in it and I slipped my thumb up her arse whilst Harry fucked her. She wouldn't let me fuck her in the arse. I even offered her more money. The stupid bitch. I think it was because of this that I spat in her face, but maybe I just spat for the fun of it.

Then I'd picked her up and was throwing her against the mirror, turned on by my own power, she was moaning and saying 'I gonna orgasm, I gonna orgasm', and her whole body went tight around me, her long painted toenails digging into the back of my legs, and then I exploded and threw her back on the bed for Harry.

The Crab. What the fuck this was, I have no idea. But Harry put her on top of him and got in a crab position and started walking on his hands still fucking her. It was superb. All those rumours flying around about him shagging like a pornstar were confirmed. He was putting on a thick American accent, telling her that she was his little whore, and making her call him 'Papa Bear'.

I was ready to go again, and we started shouting football players at her. Screaming in her face.

'David Platt!'
'Say fucking David Platt.'
'David Platt is going through you, and he's played the ball to Ince who takes over.'
'Here's Senderos. He's missed the tackle.'
'Michael Fucking Ball'

We were going mad on her. She was shouting back the names to us, mispronoucning them in her Indian-Thai voice. She was sucking my balls and maybe then rimmed me for a bit.

Her name was Apple. Or so she said. So Harry started screaming 'You're the apple sauce and he's the pork loin and I'm the fucking stuffing'. He started rubbing his hands all over her pretending to rub apple sauce all over her. She had no idea what was going on.

Our stamina was amazing. It went on for another hour. She came three times, and absolutely knackered I managed to finish again. Harry finished for the second time and shouted 'John Trivolta'. So I stood up on the bed and started doing the Boogie Nights, dancing, windmilling, cock slapping her, jizz flying off my cock onto Harry and Apple.

With jizz on her chest face feet eyes and hair she got into bed next to me, and wrapped her legs around my naked body, and exhausted we slept.

What happened in the other room with Jonny and Henry was just as disgusting. Condoms were split, the bin was filled with sick, Mo was awake having spent the night watching them have sex and was in a state of shock (I think it was the first time he'd ever seen people have sex, bless the little Paki virgin), there was lube all over the walls, it smelt of piss and cock. I would like to say what has just been written is fiction. But it's not. I'm a horrible fat perv, and it was the best night of my life.