Showing Off Kim (Slut Girlfriend, Voyeur, Marijuana)

[pb rider]

ONE

I’d gone out drinking with a co-worker, and we ended up talking about trends in porn, and he let slip that his fiancée had picked up a couple of guys in Vegas and he liked it. Felt it had done their relationship a lot of good. Said he was excited about getting married now, that it didn’t mean an end to sex.

Then a few weeks later a guy I knew from high school visited and told us this crazy story.

Cal was travelling up the West Coast, doing his On The Road thing 50 years too late. He was passing through San Francisco and I invited him to stay at my place.

To be honest, I had a lot to be proud of, and a lot I wanted to show off.

I’ll tell you more about that later, but here’s the story he told us both, me and Kim, within a drink or two after I came back from work.

You hear this and tell me it wasn’t some kind of set-up for the whole damn thing.

“I was in this town,” he said, “and I checked into this hostel and was having a beer when this guy comes up and asks if I want to fuck his wife.”

“No way,” said Kim

“Yes way,” said Cal. “Anyway, I took a look at her, and she wasn’t bad. I mean, they’d come planning to do this, right? So I go back to their place and we get high and pretty soon she just starts blowing me, her husband sat right there.”

“Didn’t that freak you out?” I said.

“Kinda, I guess, but it was hot too. I mean, I was stoned and this guy’s wife had my cock in her mouth. I was doing good. I liked it”

“What happened next?” said Kim.

“Well, she kept blowing me, then he joined in – didn’t touch me, we talked about that – and then we fucked her brains out. It was ridiculous. And you know what?”

“No, what?”

“She called me over the next day while her husband was at work and sucked my dick again, said ‘young cum is good for me’ and sent me on my way.”

“Wow,” I said, “that’s fucked up.”

“I think it’s cool,” said Kim. “Sounds exciting.”

The whole story’s right there.

I wish I’d seen it coming.

 

TWO

My name’s Bucky Goldstein, or it is in this story, because there’s no way I’m telling you my real name, not with what’s about to go down. But I’ve got to tell someone about it, because it’s fucked up, which is why I’m typing it out here, just to see how it happened, to check out any narrative kinks and get it straight in my head.

I’m a systematic kind of person.

I was born in a small town but I did good in high school. Über geek. Ended up going to a great college, finished early, then came out here to San Francisco for a fantastic job three years ago, for a big company you’ve definitely heard of, but back when it was much, much smaller, and they were still paying in stock as much as cash.

I’m not famous, and I’m not rich compared to some of my peers – but my boss, less than 10 years older than me, and someone who knows my name – he’s in the top 100 richest in the US.

He lives like a god, but I have about as much money as the good-looking dancer who can’t sing in the boyband a couple of years after they split, if he had a good accountant and lawyer.

I don’t have a jet but I have a kickass home with a pool and cabana. I’ve got three cars, a Tesla, a BMW and a 1965 Cobra, in chrome.

I have a statue of Yoda in my garden, right in a nice spot to get high in.

Key point:  I’ve got more money than I know what to do with, which is great, especially as I didn’t have the easiest time growing up. Let’s just say that all of grade school sucked, and college too, aside from classes. It wasn’t until I banked my first paycheck for more than $10k a month that I started to relax, smoke weed, and enjoy life.

Of course, that was a few years ago.

I make way more now and life’s even better.

 

THREE

OK, so I had no friends growing up, et cetera, and now I’m living the dream the real fantasy is, of course, to go back to school and show those dull fucks exactly how it turned out. Trouble is, ten-year reunion isn’t for another few years, and so I mostly show off my lifestyle online, with that all-chrome Cobra getting way too few likes, a real sign that my old peers still have shitty taste.

That’s why I leapt at the chance when Cal posted that he was traveling up the West Coast, and that we should hit him up if we had any cool ideas or a place to stay.

I got in touch and said he could stay with me – in my cabana, in fact, which is a real architectural structure, not just poles and sheets.

Cal said yes fast, and would keep in touch on the exact dates, and so on, and in the meantime I plotted how to show him that I had won while he and the others had lost.

It seemed like it would be very easy.

You see, Caleb Novak was kind of dumb and easily impressed in high school. One of the guys who never gave a second thought to giving me a hard time, and who probably felt I was a little starstruck around him, what with him being on half the school teams and fucking all the best teens.

Moreover, I wasn’t buying this soulful Beat-poet reinvention. I knew he’d see what I had and want it, and the lack of it would mean that every time he thought of me he’d feel a mix of envy, failure and shame, which were the emotions he and his friends had made live through back in the day.

He was going to get the full experience, and know exactly awesome my life was, day in and day out, which meant, of course, that he’d be meeting Kim.

Yeah, I need to get round to her, since she girl who gets fucked at both ends.

 

FOUR

Kim is 24. Long limbs, full breasts, round ass, doe eyes and lips. Full on ethnic-American beauty, a generation removed from the old country and determined to get rich in this one.

To be honest, she’s the kind of girl you dream about if you’ve got a little money.

So I’m with her because she’s hot and she’s with me because I’m rich. I know that, I’m not stupid, but we get along all the same, and while there’s always this balance of terror going on in re if I stop being rich and making her life awesome she’ll leave, and if she stops being attractive and letting me fuck her then I’ll kick her out, we do like each other, I think.

At least, we have a lot of fun high and fuck all the time.

Anyway, that’s what you need to know about me and Kim – her real name, by the way, as we’re not together anymore, so fuck it – just bound together by money and sex, and we had a lot of both, until Cal came between us.

No. Wait, that’s not true.

After he left we had even more.

 

FIVE

Cal was just staying one night. I was going to be at work when his bus got in, but I had a driver wait for him with a sign and a bottle of champagne in the back of the limo.

When he arrived Kim was home, and so were the gardener and maid, so I guess he hung out there and got high, swam, whatever, by which I mean I have no fucking idea what he got up to, but suspect he was already putting the moves on my girlfriend, or she on him, as this would explain how quickly his nuts got in her mouth later.

Cal and I hadn’t seen in each other in years, and when I saw him he had longish hair and a short beard and looked like a lumberjack.

Now I’ll be the first to admit I don’t really know how the rest of the economy operates, but I felt sure that he was, in a very real sense, entirely unemployable outside of the most basic sectors.

Then it hit me.

Cal was the Millennial Malaise made plaid and beard. Behind his pose he was desperate for recognition and success in the crassest, most media-friendly ways possible.

My task was going to be so much easier.

 

SIX

So I came back from work, parked the Cobra and went into the property.

I looked in the living room and kitchen, but then I heard water splashing through the patio doors and went to the garden and down one of the paths. Through the trees I could see Kim in a bikini on a sun-lounger by the pool, and Cal’s head bobbing up and down in the water.

I went out to say hi.

“Hey,” said Cal, “nice fucking place, man. Can you get me a job?”

I heard that all the time from people with shitty lives, who had no idea what I did and no capacity to do it.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I said, “know any good algorithms?”

“Algor-gasms?”

I smiled.

He was still an idiot.

“Still, man. Kim told me she hardly sees you. You work too hard, man. You should take it easy, enjoy life, like me.”

“I know,” I said, “but –” I gestured at the pool, hot tub, cabana, the vines and the fig trees.

The whole damn property.

“Yeah,” he said, “I get it. You’ve got it.”

“Hey babe,” it was Kim. “Can you get us some more drinks, and a few more joints?”

She looked amazing, which she should, as she did nothing all day except get high, work out, tan, shop, get dressed, and wait for me to come home and fuck her.

I bet Cal had never been with a girl who looked like Kim, never mind one who worked her ass like her. She had a trick with her pussy that could make me cum without either of us moving an inch, like it was sucking me off.

I worked out once she was worth a third more than her allowance just on what I’d spend on escorts alone if we weren’t together.

She was excellent value for money.

I went back to the main house and got changed into my trunks, put some beers and ice in a little cooler, and picked up a pack of pre-rolled joints and lighter.

The best weed in town, the guy had said, but I found it hard to tell the difference, and I just wanted to get fucked up.

When I got back Cal and Kim were sitting in the hot tub, smiling.

Shit, my life was good.

 

SEVEN

I handed Cal and Kim two beers, then lit a joint, took a hit, and passed it on.

I held the smoke inside until I was in the hot tub. When I exhaled the world softened, time became unmoored, and for a moment I wished I had a pen and paper to write something down.

“This is good shit,” I said instead, “You’ll like it.”

I haven’t always smoked weed. I never smoked in high school, or college. I didn’t get into it until I moved to San Francisco, but I was pretty good at it.

I even wanted to go to Burning Man and see the ageing psychedelic revival, but Kim wanted to come too, and the idea of us both tripping and getting into orgy scene terrified me, so we never did that.

Even so, the key point here is that I liked sex and drugs a lot, like many 20-somethings.

They were kind of what I lived for.

 

EIGHT

We all got real high, real fast, and we asked Cal about his adventures on the road, and pretty soon he told us the story I opened with, the one about him meeting this couple and then going back and he and the husband fucking the wife into a gibbering wreck.

He was very graphic, and I listened while Kim asked a lot of questions.

“It was pretty wild,” he said. “I mean, I was looking for stories on the road, but sex with a middle-aged couple? It kind of threw my whole spiritual quest. Now I can’t stop thinking about fucking. I’ll probably just fuck my way to Vancouver without writing a line.”

“Then you’ll get Asian fever,” Kim said, and I hoped she’d get horny and I’d fuck her later, that she’d come onto me before I came onto her.

“How about it, babe?” She said to me.

“What?”

 “You want to fuck the West Coast like that?”

“Ah –,” I said, “no.”

I was lying, of course.

I had Kim, but I was busy as fuck, and now it seemed Cal had all this free time and sex. I mean, I liked Kim, a lot, she was as good as that porn star you like, but I wouldn’t mind fucking this Jenn with her husband, or doing some chick from Hong Kong in Vancouver and then maybe hitting some Inuit pussy.

I wouldn’t mind a little variety, and I wouldn’t mind not going to work.

We went to the kitchen and raided the fridge, and Cal was all impressed with the range of cold cuts and so on, and I opened a bottle of champagne.

I was a generous host. My life was good.

 

NINE

We finished the food and wine and then went back and sat in the hot tub. We were talking about weed, and Cal said he’d got a great batch, something called triple-x fly. Said it would blow our minds.

Kim and I agreed to try it.

Cal got out, dried his hands on a towel, then went into the cabana.

Kim turned to me and whispered.

“Have you seen it?”

“What, the weed?”

“His cock.” she said, hands held apart. “I feel sorry for those girls he’s fucking.”

She giggled.

Cal came back with a lit joint.

“That’s a big one,” said Kim, and I thought fuck no.

“Yeah,” said Cal, squatting beside her. “It’ll put a smile on your face. But go slow – it’s real strong.”

His hand was on her shoulder.

“Let me try it,” I said, and he gave it to me and I took a big hit, then another, to calm my nerves and show off, and I saw stars and then nothing.

I came to a few seconds later.

I’d passed out and Cal had pulled me out of the hot tub, put me on the grass.

I sat up, but I was ten kinds of fucked up, the pulse in my head humming like a UFO.

 “I’ll go inside a while,” I said, “maybe I’ll throw up. Don’t worry. I’ll be OK. It’s alright.”

 

TEN

I went inside and planned to make it to a bathroom, but instead I ended up on a couch, tripping out and waiting for the room to stop spinning.

I closed my eyes and a problem from work came into view, and I grabbed a pen and paper and sketched out a few different approaches. This is what I liked to do. This is what I was good at.

Eventually I looked outside and saw lights reflecting from the pool, and heard splashes and Kim’s voice going “shhhhh!”, and I remembered she was out there, with Cal.

I must have been working a long time.

Either that, or those two worked really fast.

I decided to investigate.

I kept quiet as I walked because I was curious and scared and high as fuck, sometimes lost on my own property.

I stayed in the shadows and could see they were both back in the hot tub. Kim was sitting on Cal’s lap, and they were kissing.

They were making out, and I didn’t know what to do, so I just kept quiet and kept watching, until they got out of the water.

Kim went into the cabana first, taking off her bikini top and squeezing her tits as she walked there.

Cal followed with a grin on his face, one hand holding his big cock through his shorts.

I closed my eyes and saw flash images of sex that I wanted to jump in and join.

I thought I was going to pass out again.

I grabbed my cock to get a focus on things.

 

ELEVEN

I moved through the garden so I could see through the back window of the cabana. They never even closed the curtains.

They were kissing, and Cal had his hands on my girlfriend’s tits and she was working on the front of his trunks.

 “We have to be quick,” Kim said, “so just cum in my mouth when you can.”

She pulled out his cock.

It was impressive, and she got on her knees while Cal sat on the edge of the bed and watched her.

"You want to suck a big cock, huh?"

Kim looked up at Cal and nodded as she began taking more of it in her mouth, holding his shaft with both her hands.

She got his dick all wet like that, then took her lips off and began jerking him.

"You like getting a blow job from your friend’s girl, Cal? It make you feel good to be bad?"

“I do and it does. And what about you – you like being a slutty girlfriend?”

She put his cock between her tits and jiggled.

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re nasty slut who wants to get fucked.”

“Uh-uh. I just want you to cum.”

With that Kim shut up, filled her mouth with Cal’s dick, and didn’t take it off until he was done shaking, groaning, and unloading, just the way she liked it.

Kim’s head jerked slightly as the first shots of spunk hit the back of her throat, then she got his cock deeper for the rest.

She gagged and spluttered as he kept cumming a long time.

Kim eventually pulled back and swallowed and opened her mouth, and some of the jizz on her lips and chin fell down onto her tits.

“Thanks,” she said, “I needed that.”

“What about you – you want me to go down?”

“No time,” she said, and went out and jumped in the pool.

He went in after her, and they floated around and started talking about movies.

I crept through the shadows back to the main house, then walked back more loudly along the path.

“Hey!” I said, “I’m OK now. Just needed to lay down a little.”

 “Hi, babe,” Kim said, and she swam over, got out of the pool.

She kissed me, and I felt like spittings.

I grabbed a beer and downed half of it in one.

This was turning into a fucking nightmare.

 

The full story (7k+ words) is at the author's website (NSFW text)

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