Crowd Control with Hyper , Downer

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I went to an Eric Clapton/Muddy Waters concert in 1979 (Ticket price $7.50, including tax and no “transaction fee”). My roommate Alan and I got to the “festival seating” venue, where there are no seats on the floor and it’s every-man-for-himself, very early–we were the very first people there–to get up real close to the stage and secure our spot front and center.

I say “secure our spot,” but just a few minutes before the show started and with the floor jam-packed with spectators, a couple of chicks showed up and interposed themselves between us and the stage. One girl was sloppy drunk and probably on downers and the other was super-hyper like she was on speed.

Downer kept falling backward into Alan, and Hyper was bouncing up and down like she was on a pogo stick, and rubbing her ass into my crotch. The further into the concert it got, the more the crowd pressed forward until we were presses up against those two chicks like sardines in a can—Downer clawing against us to keep from falling down and Hyper aggressively jumping up and down like Dennis Rodman grabbing a rebound

Alan was extremely pissed, and I was none too happy, as this was a fantastic concert, and they were interfering with our enjoyment of it in a major way.

It became increasingly obvious that these two girls, both very good looking, were real horny and on the make. The sensemilla we were smoking and sharing with them had no effect on them whatsoever, so I suggested we get even friendlier with them. I figured if we reciprocated, we could at least get our arms around them to, in the case of Downer, keep her from plowing into Alan, and in the case of Hyper, suppress some of the “boing” in her pogo-stick dancing. And we might even get laid, though that was secondary to getting them under control so we could enjoy the show.

Alan was initially opposed, but he went along with the plan. We learned Downer was washing down Placidyls with Bacardi 151, and Hyper was snorting crystal meth. They readily offered, but we did not partake of, these mind-altering substances.

Most of Downer’s big, bra-less tits were hanging halfway out her top, and her jeans were so far down her butt you could see her crack. Alan had his arms under hers and his hands on her boobs, which provided excellent leverage to steady her upright.

It was all I could do to reign in the skinny, little-boobed, great-assed Hyper. She wiggled her butt so fast against my crotch I think it actually rubbed some of the blue out of my jeans! Anyway, I had a boner the whole night from that action.

Well, by the final encore, I was pleading for my roommate Alan to take Downer home to our place, as I wanted to experience Hyper’s bubble vibra-butt naked, and these two gals had obviously come together and were therefore a package deal. With a super-hot, steady girlfriend back in his home town and really as a favor to me, he acquiesced.

Expecting parking problems, we’d walked, and they’d driven, so it was good we didn’t have a car to manage. Hyper jumped into her red Sirocco and drove like a maniac to our place–a hair-raising experience.

Alan dragged Downer in and propped her against the couch, pulling the top over her head to expose her big, bodacious, blanch-white boobies, then put on Clapton’s 461 Ocean Boulevard. I’d barely closed the door when Hyper proceeded to strip completely naked as she danced to the music, like before, in her frenetic, jumping style.

I sat down, did a couple bong-hits, and pondered: How did these two chicks get to be friends? They were total opposites. Alan had managed to get Downer up on the couch and peel her jeans and panties off, the empty half-pint rum bottle sliding out of the back pocket to the floor as he did so. I looked back and forth between her and Hyper. Their looks and behavior were at opposite ends of the spectrum.

Downer was short and voluptuous, with long, slightly wavy, brown hair. Very fair complexioned, she had heavy brows over large, dark eyes, a full nose, and thick lips. Overall, her features were round, and her pretty face had an Eastern European look. Like her face, the predominant shape throughout her body was the circle—from shoulders to feet. Her breasts were almost perfect spheres, with bright pink nipples, surrounded by extra-wide areolas, right in the middle of them. Likewise, her buns were like two globes pressed together.

You could say that Downer’s state of mind was just short of comatose. Though she probably weighed only 130-135 lbs., it was a struggle for Alan to position her in any sort of fuckable/suckable/lickable way; she was like trying to move a sack of sand, a drunk and drugged sack of sand, at that. It was really kind of funny watching him. He whipped his hard cock back and forth rather forcefully against her facial cheeks, pinched her nipples hard, and four-finger-fucked her fast.

I imagined a new section in the Red Cross 1st Aid Manuel with these methods shown in pictograms, entitled “Reviving Manisa Escort Females Under The Influence Of Alcohol And/Or Sedative-Hypnotics for Sexual Activity.” Downer was ready and willing, but it was questionable whether she was able.

In contrast, Hyper was tall and slender and leggy, with short blonde hair in tight curls. With a medium-dark complexion, she had high, arching brows over blue eyes, a small, narrow nose, high cheekbones, and thin lips. Overall, her features were angular, and her unusually attractive face had a distinct Native American appearance. Her B-cup breasts, with rigid little brown nipples just north of center, swooped up and out from her bony rib cage like muscles and bounced alluringly as she danced. The fact that she was so slim and had a dramatically arched lower back only served to emphasize her very poochy, muscular ass—the kind you just want to squeeze and store the feeling in the “Best Asses” section of your memory bank.

Hyper was, well, hyperactive. While I’ve been described as hyper myself, I’m positively indolent compared to her. Everything she did—speak, move, drive—was at full speed. I knew she’d want to fuck like that, too, and that concerned me, so I filled up each of the bowls in the Gatling Gun on the bong, sat her naked buns down on the floor in front of me, and played with her tits from behind while I forced her to smoke all five bowls of super-strong Hawaiian sensemilla in succession. It just made her more horny, if that were possible, but it was the longest I’d observed her stay in one place.

“Come on, let’s screw!” Hyper shouted, turning around to unzip my jeans. Alan looked over his shoulder with a supremely frustrated look, “You got any bright ideas to energize your friend here?” “Oh, I guarantee she wants—and needs—a good screwing,” said Hyper, before leaning over to Downer’s ear and screaming an eardrum-splitting, “Time to screeeeeeeeeew!!!” It worked! Downer came to life, Alan offered his dick to her, and she, on cue, sucked it ALL the way down, ALL the way up, giving him a deep-throat blow job like a pro.

With our mojos clearly working, I put on a Muddy Waters record, turned up the volume, and raced Hyper to my bedroom; though I ran track, she still got there first. Personally, I like to take a gradual, shift-up-through-the-gears approach to sex, but Hyper skipped the kissing and body caressing and attacked my penis. Though she couldn’t get it all the way down her throat like Downer, she had an extraordinarily long and agile tongue that she used to delightfully lick every millimeter of my shaft and balls before gulping me into her mouth. The way she sucked was just fantastic: Not only would she choke the shaft with her hands in a twisting motion, but she would also rotate her mouth back and forth as she up-and-downed while swirling her tongue round and round the tip.

Problem was—if I may describe it as a problem—she just couldn’t stick to any one sexual thing for more than a minute or two. After the great, if real short BJ, she hopped on top of me and fucked for about a minute, turned around and fucked me facing away for maybe a minute, then rolled over onto her side and fucked me spoons for a very short time. She disengaged, pushed me out of the bed, sat on its edge, and blew me some more while I frigged her puss. It was a beautiful pussy, and I wanted to eat that thing!

She wanted to be in charge and was surprisingly strong for a 110-lb. skinny girl, but I was going to have to take the lead, so I broke off the BJ myself this time, picked her up, and impaled her on my cock in flying fuck fashion. Never missing a stroke, I walked us down the hall, through the den, and into the kitchen to the frij to get a couple of Heinekens. Not only did I want a cold beer, but I also wanted to see how things were going with Alan and Downer, so we got them a beer each to deliver and get a close-up view.

Downer was not exactly active, but she was making this-is-good-fucking noises, and her eyes were wide open—a good sign. Alan had her on her back on the couch with her legs spread wide and bent back, his hands pinning her knees to the seat cushions, so that her pussy was pointed nearly straight up. And he was pounding it good, too, deeply in-and-outing her bright pink, wet pussy, rippling her round butt flesh, and sloshing her big white boobs from chin to stomach with each stroke. “Thanks for the scream-in-her-ear tip, Hyper,” Alan said. “I do it every five minutes or so to keep her alert. Really works.” I laughed out loud, and so did he. Here’s a girl getting the shit fucked out of her, and she has to be screamed at to stay awake. That’s what a Placidyl-Bacardi 151 cocktail will do.

Well, I flying-fucked Hyper back to my bedroom and got her writhing body, with some difficulty, into a 69 on top of me. Finally, I could mouth her gorgeous gash, streaming with pussy juice down her thighs. Her pussy had almost no labia majora, yet very prominent inner lips, as Manisa Escort Bayan well as a small, hard clit that was nearly fully exposed with practically no hood at all. This made it so easy to lick and suck that no hold-it-open-with-your-hands was necessary. She had not been exactly quiet before, but my pussy eating really got her vocal and kind of nasty. “Eat my pussy, fucker, and make me cum! That’s it, fucker, work it, work it, work it. Oh yeah, you know how, fucker!”

My name, as far as she was concerned, was Fucker. Perhaps she had read Norman Mailer’s book in which he made the quite convincing argument that “fuck,” doubtless a good thing but often used disparagingly, should only be used in a favorable way. Nah, I honestly just don’t think she remembered my name. Well, fair’s fair; I don’t remember her or her friend’s names either—that’s why I call them Hyper and Downer in this story.

The amazing thing about Hyper is how she could give me the great head while she was getting her pussy-licking. When she’d pause to make a comment, she would continue stimulating me with her patented, both-hands-screwing hand motion technique on my saliva-wet rod. That was in the days before the term “multi-tasking” was coined, but a sexual multi-tasker she most certainly was.

With the record over, every few minutes, we’d laugh when we heard from down the hall Alan scream, “Let’s Screw!!!” to keep Downer conscious.

I discovered, quite by accident, that Hyper liked her ass spanked. While eating her pussy, I made a slap-grab of her perfect buns, and her pussy literally squirted as she instructed, “Spank my ass; spank BOTH cheeks, fucker. Harder! Faster! Real hard, fucker! That’s it.” At that point in my sexual career, I’d never been with a girl who liked to be spanked so violently, and I was a bit reluctant. Of course, when I realized she loved it, despite my stinging hands, I quickly got over my recalcitrance. Most importantly, I’d finally found a position Hyper would stay in. She had numerous orgasms from all the clit play and spanking.

After the lengthy spanking episode, I went back to eating her pussy, then three-fingered her for a few moments while I drank the last sip of my beer. I warmed the neck of the Heineken bottle in my other hand for a few minutes, then stuck it in her pussy while I sucked her clit. I don’t think she ever knew what I did, but she did cum several more times as I vigorously worked the neck of the brown bottle (Heineken Dark) in her love hole while lick-sucking her delicious clit. All the while, of course, she continued her magnificent schlong work.

I just had to fuck her doggie, so I slipped from beneath her and mounted her accordingly. I gotta tell you, it was all great, but this was the best. Rared high in the air, Hyper’s poochy, muscular ass, accentuated by her extreme arched back and slender legs, belongs on the cover of Assman’s All-time Best Butts. Plus, her long thigh bones were the same length as mine, so I could park my knees on the bed right next to hers, allowing a perfect doggie-style fuck and the flesh of our upper legs to touch along their full lengths with each stroke. And with each stroke, her taught flesh would ripple in two perfect waves across each bun.

I banged and banged and banged her, making it last and last and last until I felt my cum rising. I rarely announce when I’m cumming, but for some reason I did. And good thing, too. “Oh, no, no, no! Don’t cum inside me! I’m not protected!” she implored, panic quite evident in her voice. Seconds later, and I would have spewed, but I pulled out, she spun around super fast, gobbled Mr. Johnson into her mouth and performed her expert technique. I grabbed her superb little titties and erupted with loads of cum as she swallowed over and over to take every drop.

We did another round of bong-hits, drank another couple Heinies, and pretty much re-enacted the whole thing over again before crashing into a deep sleep.

The next morning, I awoke early as usual, with a hard-on as usual, but Hyper was stone cold asleep, so, after checking her pulse to make sure she wasn’t dead, I went into the kitchen to make coffee and start some bacon. I opened the den curtains and there, nude and asleep on the couch, was Downer, just about where she was the last time I’d seen her the night before with Alan, only now he was in his bedroom sawing logs.

In the bright morning light, I got the best look at her yet, and I studied her from head to toe. She was good-looking all over, but those boobs were her best feature, so round, so nipply, with those large areolas, and moving with each breath. Wonder what they felt like? Should I cop a little feel? Waking her would probably be almost like trying to awake the dead, and besides, she obviously didn’t have a problem with I and Hyper watching her get fondled and fucked by Alan the night before.

I walked back into the kitchen, got a cup of coffee, turned over the bacon, then Escort Manisa came back into the den and sat down on the floor right by Downer, staring at her nakedness, my dick hard as steel. OK, one little boob check, purely in the interest of science. I imagined myself some noted Russian breast expert, Vladimir Boobchek, and gently squeezed her tit. Oh, how very nice, so soft, but how pliable? I squeezed again, a bit harder, then again. Quite pliable, yet firm, very nice, indeed. But what of the other breast? And so I boob-checked it. And the nipples? I tweaked them, rolled them between thumb and forefinger several times. Taught, pointy, rubbery—very nice.

I heard the bacon pop, so I jumped up and raced into the kitchen, turning it over again, before creeping down the hall to see that Hyper was still asleep and hear Alan snoring. I returned to Downer, still catatonic. Emboldened, I took both hands and squeezed her perfectly round boobs together. Exquisite cleavage–definitely titty-fuck material. I circled my tongue around and around her areolas and sucked her nipples. Very nice. I saw my hand sweep down across her fleshy tummy and caress it in circles, then down her legs and come to rest on the full bush of dark brown pubic hair. I could feel blood pulsing through the artery there. Good, I thought, she’s alive.

The next thing I knew, a finger had plunged into her pussy, and it did so with such ease, it being surprisingly wet and open. I swirled it around inside her a few times and then brought it to my nose for a whiff. Semen. Alan had cum in her. I hoped that she, unlike her friend, was protected. I parted her flappy pussy lips and discovered a large clit, pulled back the hood, and investigated. Very nice. I pushed two fingers into her pussy and massaged the clit with my thumb. Almost immediately, juices began to flow, so I plunged another finger inside and kept up the clit play for a few minutes.

I smelled something burning. The bacon! I jumped up again and ran to the kitchen to check on it; it had almost burned, so I took it up and turned off the fire. (Warning: Frying bacon in the nude with an erection is not recommended!) Close call, but still, I was drawn back to Downer. I knelt by the couch and stared at her magnificent boobs. What? I realized her eyes were half-open. Oh, shit!!! How long had she been awake? Did she know I had been playing with her sex organs?

“Mornin’,” she said, with a groggy, sexy tone. “Oh, hi, I j-just got up and saw you lying here uncovered and thought you might need a blanket, yeah, a blanket,” I stammered, as though she would not notice my seven inches of erect man-meat springing about. “Oh, thanks, but I don’t need one. I’m real warm-natured and always sleep naked. Know what? I just had the coolest dream, a sex dream. I dreamed I was being pleasured by a guy I had a secret crush on while I slept, but I woke up before the, you know, climax.”

Was this her way of telling me she knew I was fooling around with her and liked it? I was a nervous wreck, but horny as the devil for her, and she had that come-hither look in her eyes, so I screwed up my courage and asked her who the guy was. “You,” she answered as she reached over to caress my cock.

OK, the only way to pull this off was to get Hyper and Alan in the sack together—and quickly. I asked Downer what she thought, and she said that was quite probable, as they had merely eeny-meeny-miney-moed to decide which of us to pair up with the night before. I marched into my bedroom, shook Hyper awake, and just point-blank said, “Would you like to fuck Alan, my roommate? It’s perfectly fine with me; just give me a yes or no answer.”

“Yes, that would be great, but what about Downer?” Hyper said, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

I clarified, “Downer is perfectly fine with that, too. You see, we’re going to fuck while you and Alan fuck. You just go into his bedroom now and give him a blow-job. Go on. He’ll enjoy that kind of wake-up service.”

And so she did, pausing only to do a quick quadruple snort of meth. And so Downer and I did—all over the rest of the apartment. I came the first time in the kitchen, with the help of bacon grease, between her big round titties, and the second time in the den on Alan’s Infinity studio monitor speaker, right in her gorgeous, lippy pussy, and the final time on the trusty couch by way of a superb deep-throat blow job. Sex with Downer—slow, gentle, and quiet—was the polar opposite of Hyper, but every bit as good.

Minutes later, Alan and Hyper emerged from his bedroom sporting distinct we’ve-been-fucking-all-morning looks. Following a few bongs and all ravenously hungry, we ate a huge bacon and eggs and jelly toast breakfast sitting around the table buck-naked.

They took a quick shower—together, no less. Were they fooling around in there or just honoring our request to save the meager hot water supply? Whichever, the mere notion of the former had my and Alan’s well-worn cocks coming to life again. I reminded Alan that he should have taken my advice and gotten the clear shower curtain. Then, they emerged in a flurry, both of them kissed each of us, and said they had to hurry off because they had a long drive to their home in some small town I’d never heard of.

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