The Beast in the Workshop

I went to my closet and picked out the tie-front blouse and the shorts with the zipper permanently open down to my now-hairless slit. I decided to go for the farm-girl look. I wished I had a stalk of hay to stick in my hair.

I started to go down to join the crowd, but I thought I would check Bud and Jim's rooms on the way to see if they were upstairs or down. I didn't imagine that they would have much interest in the 'dress-up' session going on, except perhaps to judge the winner. I peeked into Jim's room because it was closest. Jim was lying on the bed, asleep. Apparently, he had not got much rest the night before and had gone back to bed after breakfast. I pulled his covers over him and tiptoed back out of the room.

When I looked in on Bud, he was asleep as well. I stood watching him for a while, listening to him snore softly. He looked so cute when he was asleep. I started to pull his covers up as well, when I noticed that his cock was hanging out of his shorts and he had a very nice erection.

Feeling quite naughty, I knelt down next to the bed and took a close look at his big cock while he slept. It looked like it was as hard as it could get. It had a broad purplish-red head that flared out from a thick blue-veined shaft. The shaft was thicker toward the end than at the root, which I thought might be unusual, but since I hadn't had a chance to examine very many cocks close-up, I had no way to be sure.

The urge to climb into bed with Bud and let him put that huge thing into me was turning into an irresistible compulsion. My pussy was talking to me again, begging me to fill it with something warm and hard. We were in complete agreement on that idea, so it was very difficult to resist, but I managed. I told myself there would be time enough later on.

I leaned over so close to it, I could smell its slightly musty odour. I expected it to be offensive, but it wasn't an unpleasant smell at all. It smelled very animal, sort of like Brute. Before I knew it, I was so close to his cock that my lips were almost touching it. "Well," I thought to myself, "as long as I'm this close, I might as well say 'hello'." I kissed Bud's cock very lightly, just under the head. To my surprise, it twitched and almost slapped my face.

I took a look at Bud to make sure he was still asleep. His snoring was constant and I could see his eyes moving under his lids, meaning he was dreaming. I thought I would see if I could give him something to dream about. I softly kissed his cock again, and brushed my lips up and down the shaft. This caused another twitch and his cock got even harder, lifting itself away from his body. It looked like it was just sitting up and begging to be sucked. I looked at the opening in the tip; it had tiny little lips that seemed to be saying, "Suck me." I couldn't stand it any longer. I carefully put my mouth over the head. Spit welled up in my mouth at the taste of a cock. The flavour was heavenly. I sucked as carefully as I could, so Bud would not wake up.

Before I could react, Bud bucked his hips. The sudden movement forced his cock deeper into my mouth, stretching my jaws apart and almost plugging my throat. I was in the same situation Sara had been in when she had tried to deep-throat Bid. His cock was almost choking me.

I froze as I tried to think what to do. I made myself calm down. My gag reflex was being teased, but I wasn't in real distress. I could still breathe through my nose. My mouth flooded with spit and I swallowed to clear it. As I did, I felt Bud's cock slip further toward the back of my throat until it was touching. I concentrated on relaxing, and to my surprise, my gag reflex faded. With it, my feeling of distress went away as well. I took a couple of deep breaths and held the last one. I swallowed as hard as I could and pushed my mouth down on the huge cock. It slipped easily down my throat until my nose was buried in Bud's pubic hair.

This was a completely new experience for me. I had swallowed a cock to the root; a really thick one, too! As long as I could hold my breath, I would be fine, but that situation would not last long. Still, I hated to pull off. The feeling of having a cock down my throat fascinated me. I swallowed a few more times to clear the saliva and wondered how long I could hold my breath. I was running short on oxygen, but I seemed to be able to control my distress as easily as I had suppressed my gag reflex. I decided to wait until the last possible moment before I let go.

I had just settled down to enjoy it, when I felt Bud's cock stiffen and start to pulse. In no time at all, he was shooting his cum straight into my stomach. It was a fantastic feeling. I swallowed over and over again, trying to milk all the cum out of his cock. As soon as he shot off, his cock started to shrink and go limp, which was just as well, because I was about to pass out from lack of oxygen. As quickly as I could, I backed off and pulled his cock out of my throat. When it was clear, I exhaled and inhaled as deeply as I could to suck fresh air into my lungs.

While I was recovering, I realized that while deep-throating was a great feeling, the downside was that I missed the taste of cum in my mouth. I put my mouth back on the head of Bud's cock and sucked out a taste of his cream. I was savouring the flavour when I noticed that something had changed — Bud had quit snoring. I looked down at him and said quietly, "I know you're awake."

He opened his eyes and looked up at me with a big grin. "It looks like I've been attacked by the vampire Countess Cumula. Do you usually go around sucking guys off while they're asleep?"

"I was jealous. Sara told me how much fun she and Lori had last night. I'm sorry for waking you up."

"Oh, hell, you can wake me up like that anytime you like! Please! Can I get on the list for a wake-up in the morning?"

I giggled. He was so cute. I made myself a promise to fuck his brains out the next time, if I could only keep my mouth off his cock. I thought about that, then I told him what I wanted to do. He looked very pleased at the prospect.

"Now you go back to sleep," I told him, "You're going to need all the rest you can get." I kissed him and tucked him in. "We'll see about that wake-up in the morning. What time would you like?"

"6:30, please." He looked puzzled, like he had only been kidding about the wake-up. I smiled at him as he lay back down on his pillow. I wasn't kidding. Now I had to figure out how I was going to get to sleep, knowing that there would be a hard cock waiting for me to ride it first thing in the morning.

When I left Bud's room, I turned the wrong way down the hall by mistake. I was barely used to turning right coming out of my own room, so the mistake was not surprising. By the time I figured out I was going the wrong way; I was at the opposite end of the hall next to the back stairs. I thought, "What the heck" and started down. I didn't know where they came out, but I was not likely to get completely lost. The house was big, but not that big.

I went by the landing for the second floor. It looked the same as the third. The first-floor landing had a door than opened onto the main hallway behind the formal rooms and next to the little storage room with its medicine cabinet. I went on down, wondering where the stairs would lead.

The house originally belonged to Mr. Ben Reynolds, Jim and Bud's father. I had only recently moved into the place after I turned eighteen.

It was dark when I got to the bottom of the last flight of steps. In the wall opposite was a heavy steel-clad door. I thought it was an outside door, but when I opened it, I found myself in a dark room. I felt around on the wall until I hit a pair of switches. The room was large, about 20' by 50'. It was largely unfinished. The walls were whitewashed sheetrock and the floor was concrete. The lights were basic fluorescent fixtures, mounted on a high ceiling. There were some built-in cabinets against the wall next to the stairs and a set of double-doors on the far wall. It looked like Ben Reynolds had intended the room as a workshop or hobby room, but left the decision about what hobby to take up until later. Unfortunately for Mr. Reynolds, later never came and now his workshop stood mostly empty.

'Mostly', because there was something at the far end of the room. Something that caught the eye and held it. I walked past a red rolling tool chest to look at a brand-new motorcycle. I knew nothing about bikes, but it was the most impressive piece of machinery I had ever seen. It was shiny black with a huge engine, full cowling, a low windscreen, and enormous exhaust pipes that looked like they belonged on a spaceship. I looked for a manufacturer's nameplate or logo, but there was none I could find. I asked myself what kind of bike a rich man whose main hobby was climbing mountains all over the world would have. The obvious answer was a custom-made machine that had to be faster than anything else on the road.

I opened a few drawers in the tool chest. They were all full of brand-new tools that he must have bought to use in maintaining the bike. There was no dirt or grease or scratches on anything. I guessed that it had been delivered while he was traveling and he never got to play with his new toy.

I could not resist sitting on the bike. Being careful not to jostle it, I swung a leg over and put my butt on the fancy leather seat. I had seen a few at school, but I had never been on a motorcycle in my life. Yet this one felt comfortable. It was well-balanced too and I had no trouble standing it upright. The ignition switch was right under the handlebars, but there was no key in it. I got off the bike and walked back to the cabinets at the other end of the room. Opening the right-hand cabinet, I put my hand on the top shelf and felt around in the front corner. The key was right where I would have hidden it if I were Jim Reynolds.

Once I had the key, I got back on the bike and put it into the switch. Imitating the guys who rode their bikes to school, I twisted the throttle once and turned the key. The engine fired up instantly.

I turned the key back off, leaned the bike back onto the kickstand and got the hell off. After I checked my shorts to make sure I had not wet them, I took the key and put it back in the cabinet. I walked back and looked at the bike. My stomach was still turning over in imitation of the motor. My heart was beating in the same quick pace as the motor's idle and I had to take a few deep breaths to get it to slow down. Nothing had ever scared me as much, or excited me as much, as the sound of that engine. To me, it sounded just like a dragon's roar. It wasn't ear-splittingly loud, but it had an awesomely powerful note of authority that brooked no argument. It made Brute's deep growl sound like the whine of a puppy. It seemed to continue bouncing off the hard walls and floor of the workshop even after I shut it off.