The following story is a work of pure fiction. Any and all characters depicted within are entirely products of the author's imagination and any connection to real life persons is entirely coincidental. It is a work of erotic fiction, including homosexual and public exhibitionist content. If it is illegal in your locality to view such material, the author advises not to read this content. If you are offended by questionable consent, public sexual acts between adults, or homosexual acts between adults, do not read this content.
The author does not condone such acts. Again, this is a work of fantasy for entertainment.
Toga-clad, Tugged, and Tossed – II
There Eric Fyord was, in the one of the best clubs for picking up co-eds, on one of the best nights to be scoring with slutty-costumed horny women, and he had blown his load amidst everyone. Thankfully, it wasn't in the middle of the dance floor from a sorority sister grinding on his groin, but it also wasn't in the partial privacy of a bathroom stall from a business major blowing him. Someone had just jerked and sucked him off beneath the table he was standing at while friends and potential conquests were right at his side.
That in and of itself wasn't catastrophic; Eric's regular gym routine and good diet (and youthful age) meant that he had a fantastic refractory period. He would be ready to gush cum across a slut's back in less than an hour—plenty of time to seduce one of the scantily clad dancers on the floor.
What was potentially an obstacle between him and tearing lace delicates with his teeth was that while distracted by a rather intense orgasm, Eric had lost his underpants. The under-table blower and jerker had de-pantsed him, and Eric's special occasion tiny briefs had fallen to the skuzzy club floor while his balls emptied. It seemed likely the violator had scooped them up as a trophy, but could it have been the Indian engineering student who copped a feel of his bare bubble butt?
Regardless of who had his underwear, Eric considered it worth chasing down. His toga costume had a very high hemline, fitting in with any of the slutty costume miniskirts that occasionally gave a flirty glimpse of chew-worthy cheeks or silk panties. Unlike those gals, who at the very least would be wearing a g-string, Eric had nothing cladding his junk. His balls were hanging somewhat low from the heat of the club, and despite the very recent climax, his cock was still swollen and tilted forward. When Eric was fully erect, his dong would angle up, which would certainly lift the skirt of his toga and be almost impossible to hide. At the least, he would be laughed at and tossed out of the club—probably banned for life, too. At the worst, he would have his romantic reputation ruined, and he would only be able to prey upon freshman girls in the first week of the semesters. Or maybe the horny tanned milfs that sometimes stalked into bars around the campus to find a young buck for a ride. There were worse fates, but Eric liked his freedom and his options. He needed to find that underwear.
He looked under the table, careful to bend down with his knees since bending at the waist would mean his ass was bared and his junk likely dangling into view of anyone behind him. The lighting was less than ideal. He saw some glistening goo on the floor where he was standing, dribbles from his spent cock, and he blushed at the thought his cock was likely still dripping here and there on the floor. He hoped it wouldn't soak into the white fabric of his costume. Whoever the blower was, they were long gone. No one was lurking under the table, and no sign of his missing clothes.
He did see, though, with the sweeping dance floor lights plenty of long shapely legs standing around the table. He was usually more of a tits and ass guy—or lips—all three were frequent sources of pleasure for his cock, but this sea of legs stirred thoughts in his mind. He felt his cock stir a bit, and he shook his head. No erotic thoughts until his cock was at some lady's apartment or safely wrapped in cotton again.
He stood back up and decided his best course would be to check on the engineering student. That guy had seen that his ass was exposed and had felt up his butt and thighs. He was right there when Eric came, and maybe he had seen the briefs on the floor? Eric hadn't been watching him the whole time—his frat brothers were chatting him up and there was that little matter of an orgasm blurring his senses—so maybe when Eric had felt the engineering student move around next to him, he was stooping down to snag his pervy prize.
Eric pushed into the crowd with his drink in his hand, which might prove to be a useful distraction or prop for securing his stolen pair. People were milling about, some sorta dancing here off to the side of the floor, others going back and forth between the bar and main dance area. Legs and butts and hands brushed against him, each with tantalizing doses of friction against his still-sensitive member. Eric moved his free hand to shield the further swelling appendage, anxious that someone might swing a hand into cupping his penis or balls, each worryingly more sensitive than usual to each and every sensation. A short Thor came at Eric head-on (jeez, did someone bring their kid, Eric mused) and brushed by, Eric uncharacteristically yielding space to avoid the prop Mjolnir warhammer from whacking his junk. On the back side, though, that short Thor inadvertently (Eric assumed) swished Eric's toga skirt up, and the warhammer slapped his ass. Eric swung his free hand to the back to sweep the skirt back into place as he heard some very drunk girl hoot, hopefully at something other than his momentary exposure.
Finally, Eric arrived at the local meeting of the Engineering, Math, and Physics students—aka, the cluster of Southeast Asian students at the fringes of the dance floor. Eric played it cool and faced towards the main clump of dancers with the group on his right. He side-eyed the guys, looking for that goateed face that was next to him 10 minutes ago when he came and lost his underwear. Eric found him. He was chatting with a friend and then gave that friend a shove forward towards the dance floor. Eric and Goatee met eyes, and Goatee gave him a big smile. Eric offered a small smile in return before taking a sip of his drink. Eric looked away, but after a moment let his eyes drift back to scan Goatee—his costume didn't look like it had any pockets...where could he hid his prize?
As Eric considered, another of the students rushed up from the back area and fired off some rapid, excited words to a couple of the guys clustered there, and following him was one of the biggest dudes Eric had seen. By BMI, the guy would probably be classed as `obese' but he wasn't a ball of mass. Instead, he was both tall and thick, only verging on fat. Eric knew of him vaguely from seeing that giant guy on campus, and he was somewhat certain he was a linebacker for the football team, which made perfect sense. That's exactly what Eric thought when he saw him around in classes and the library.
The excited guy waved something around in his hand, and when Eric saw it, his heart sank a bit at a suspicion of what it was. It looked like something small, something white, and something cottony. Eric couldn't hear what was being said over the music, so he nonchalantly maneuvered through the people to get within earshot of the excited guy.
"--on the floor," he was rattling off.
"Told him that was gross," Mr. Linebacker said. He was wearing a baseball uniform as a costume with number 44 on the back. The excited guy brought his hand up to his face and took a dramatic sniff.
"This is to find my Cinderella," he laughed. "I'll know when her ass smells like this panty." Eric took another drink nearby. So, this guy thought he scored some woman's abandoned underwear, but how in the world did Eric's underwear end up over this way, if they were, indeed, his? And how would Eric get it back? The excited guy did a little dance with the next drop of bass from the DJ, and he twirled the garment over his head. Yeah, Eric was pretty sure those were his. Damn. Mr. Linebacker would be a problem; Eric definitely didn't want the football team learning that he was prancing around a club with his cock swinging bare.
Mr. Goatee was approaching through his group of friends, and he jerked a thumb towards the middle of the dance floor. "He just needed some encouragement—and vodka—to go grind on some sluts," he said once close enough to be heard over the music, which happened to be very close, like almost brushing against Eric's groin close. Given how handsy he was before, Eric kept his free hand resting against the front of his thigh to guard against a potential grope. Mr. Goatee leaned in again and put a hand against Eric's thigh. "You have a fantastic ass," he said close to Eric's ear. His facial hair tickled Eric's ear, and his cock twitched as Mr. Goatee's fingers traced up under his toga's hemline. Maybe Eric could turn this fan to his advantage to secure his briefs? Mr. Goatee's leg pushed between Eric's, the fabric of his pants brushing against his cock tip. His ventured up further under the toga and back towards his ass. Eric used his free hand to clamp down on the toga skirt to keep it from riding up further, but his cock was now resting on top of Goatee's thigh.
"I'm straight," Eric admitted to Goatee's close ear. Goatee pursed his lips in a pout (and they were nice full lips...would that facial hair tickle his junk...wait, just how horny was Eric that he was considering this? Man, a week without an orgasm and now even 15 minutes from an orgasm he was being tempted by a dude...)
"I'm sorry," he admitted, "but that booty of yours is deliriously good." He offered Eric a smirk and turned to sidle back into his group, but Eric grabbed his arm.
"I need that," Eric said with a clenched jaw and eyed what the excited guy was still brandishing in his dancing. Goatee glanced over at his excited friend. He looked back at Eric and arched his eyebrows.
"Belong to your girlfriend? Or just a trophy you lost track of?" Eric didn't say anything but gave a little huff and looked at Goatee. Goatee lifted his hands and shrugged. "No judgments! We all have our kinks." He laughed and looked back at his dancing friend. He leaned back in to Eric. "Ok, here's a thought; let's try to get the whole crew out on the dance floor. I'll offer to hold onto his little token there so he can dance with one of the slutty sorority sisters out there and maybe score. Can't do that with panties in your hand, right?" It seemed like a good enough plan...it was A plan, which was more than Eric had at the moment. Eric nodded.
"How do I factor in?" Goatee smiled.
"You're a hottie, dude. That will bring the horny women around. And that will get these wallflowers out dancing. You'll go out dancing first, and I will toss these guys out there one or two at a time to mingle." So Eric was bait. He just needed to make sure his junk didn't end up on display while doing it. Eric nodded to Goatee and started towards the middle of the dance floor. Goatee put a hand on his pec, Eric's nipple hardening between two fingers. Eric hoped he didn't notice. "If I do this favor, I am going to want something, too."
"Fine, fine." Eric was just focused on the likelihood of having his clothes again. Goatee withdrew his hand, and Eric proceeded to the dance floor.
He kept his shoulders loose, and he raised his drink hand as he sauntered out to the beat, but his free hand he held strategically close against the skirt by his junk. He hopped to the beat and could feel his dong and balls bounce beneath the skirt, but his hand kept the toga from flitting up. In fact, even with his special occasion bikini briefs, his junk was expected to bounce, and that bouncing bulge was something he had started the night expecting to use as a lure for horny ladies. He looked back to Goatee's group, and his co-conspirator had pushed two or three of the group into the outer parts of the heavily dancing folks, towards Eric and the core of the dance floor. The excited guy wasn't among them.
Eric next looked around his near area. It looked to be mostly women in their various costumes, tits and asses bouncing to the bass. Eric tried not to focus on any of those tempting delights. His plan to subtly control his cock was working for now (hell, maybe he didn't even need his underwear to end his night successfully? But he also didn't want some perv whacking it into his briefs...), but if his cock became more erect, it would be so much more difficult to manage. Instead of the bouncing ladies, Eric focused on one of the few dudes here in the near area: short Thor. Short Thor was nodding his head beneath the giant wings of his helmet and dancing with that stupid warhammer that slapped Eric on the ass earlier. Short Thor saw Eric looking, and he wagged his warhammer like a cock at Eric and slapped an invisible ass in front of him. Eric laughed a little. That guy may be short, but he was clearly fun.
Eric looked back to Goatee. The excited guy underwear snatcher was still back there, along with the giant linebacker. Damn, Goatee,' Eric thought, get on with this. Delilah or Meghan is probably still around somewhere waiting for my dick.' A slutty-costumed cat and Tinkerbell were up against Eric now. Tinkerbell didn't have the ass for it, but she was trying to twerk right in front of Eric, bless her heart. She was clearly drunk—Eric could swear he could see her pink little nipples appear during her dancing from the top of her costume coming loose. She was definitely the sort of horned up gal Eric would treat himself to for a blowjob and maybe hear her squeak from him strumming her clit with his hand, but for now he just wanted to have her dancing here to get the Engineering group all out here. Those nipples, though...Eric shook his head. Minimal arousal for now, man. Min-i-mal.
Short Thor galloped over and sidled in to receiving Tinkerbell's twerk with glee. He held his hammer overhead with his other hand gripping her hip, and Tinkerbell looked back with a crooked drunken smile. She looked at Eric and short Thor and then back to Eric. Her smile dropped away, and she stood up from her twerk and pushed short Thor back. Short Thor stumbled and fell on his butt, and Eric stepped forward a bit between the two to cool things off. He flashed his bright white smile at Tinkerbell and she seemed to chill from her seething. Eric turned a bit to help the funny guy up. Eric's heart skipped a beat.
Short Thor was looking up at Eric—right up his toga skirt. Was he staring right at Eric's dong? Eric still offered his free hand, and short Thor took it without comment. He was still showing a stupid drunken smile on his face, so Eric was hoping the dim lights and crowd kept short Thor from seeing his exposure. He wasn't hooting or calling Eric a pervert, so that was a good sign. Eric looked over his shoulder while bobbing to the beat. Linebacker was heading away, probably to the bathroom. It looked to be just the excited guy and Goatee left to enter the dancing group. Ok, just a little longer stirring the pot out here, Eric thought.
Short Thor was dancing like a guy on molly with the new faster beat, and his swinging hand kept brushing Eric's skirt. Dangerous, that, and Eric tried to back away to give that swinging hand room so as to not knock around Eric's cock. Unfortunately, the press of people behind him was tight and steady. One of the engineering students was making out with a voluptuous little angel gal right behind him. They weren't budging. Meanwhile, short Thor's was swinging more aggressively, and his fingers were starting to collide with Eric's member. The hand swings were timed with the beats of the bass, and each swing resulted in a little slap against the head of his cock.
Bum, slap
Tiss, slap
Bum, slap, bum-bum, slap-slap
The stimulus was entirely felt by Eric's buzzing cock, especially as those little slaps were right against Eric's glans so overly abused tonight. Eric tried to pull his crotch away, but he couldn't withdraw. He felt his cock further inflate, and even with his one hand holding the skirt down, his swelling appendage was pushing the fabric up and away from his body. It didn't seem like short Thor was paying any mind to thwacking Eric's dick, but there was no denying the effect it was having on Eric.
The beat changed again, and the cockslaps were now rapid fire, very rapid, in fact. Sure, the house music's beat was now frenetic, but the frequency of contact was suspiciously rapid to Eric. He looked down, and his blood went a little cold. Short Thor was still bouncing and dancing to the beat and his hammer over his head, but his eyes were right on his free hand, which was under Eric's cock and clearly deliberately tapping the underside of Eric's cock. Despite every thought in his brain not wanting it to happen or be the case, those slaps brought forth a gush of precum from Eric's poor cock. That gush of precum with the slaps flung the fluid in droplets all around. Eric watched in both horror and sexual fascination as he saw drops fall onto Tinkerbell's barely covered breasts, onto the cat's fishnet legs, and copiously onto short Thor's face, who looked up at Eric with narrowed eyes and a wicked smile playing across his face. He licked his lips, sweeping away a few droplets of precum onto his tongue. Was Short Thor the same person who made him cum earlier at the bar?
The beat changed again, and now short Thor was blatantly feeling up Eric's almost fully erect cock, stroking the shaft and pulling towards the head, pumping it. These were not the gentle manipulations Eric felt before. While there was some pleasure in short Thor's groping, these mostly seemed about getting Eric fully erect. For the moment, the dancing crowd was pressed tightly. Tinkerbell and the cat had noticed neither the precum shower nor the erect cock still mostly covered by the toga. Goatee's hand appeared on Eric's shoulder, and Goatee pulled him back away from the center of the crowd. Short Thor was hefting Eric's cock, lifting it up under the skirt and squeezing it. The precum helped Eric slip away (literally), and his knees quivered a bit with the firm stroke that gave him. As he turned away, he felt short Thor lift the skirt over his ass for just a moment.
As he retreated, his free hand he used to try to position the cock in a less conspicuous position. Luck was finally with him, and he chanced upon a stroke of genius in erect cock positioning—one that just about every middle school and high school guy knew. He flipped his cock up under his belt. Only his balls dangled freely under the skirt now.
Goatee was leading him back through the tight crowd, and they ended up in the now rather sparse area the engineering students had been occupying. He smiled at Eric. "Good work," he said. "Did you see how many women filled the dance floor when you started shaking your ass out there? You did great showing off those cheeks." Eric gaped, and Goatee nodded. "That tiny skirt of yours didn't keep you covered while you hopped." He laughed. "I told you it was delirious." Eric winced and pinched the bridge of his nose. It wasn't a disaster, but it was neighboring it. There were worse things to be known for.
"Did you at least get it," Eric asked, dreading this was all for nothing. Goatee answered by lifting his fist and dangling the white garment. Eric reached for it, but Goatee pulled his hand away.
"Now, now," Goatee wagged a finger, "you owe me." Ah, here was the catch, but Eric was so close to this being over.
"What do you want?" Goatee pointedly looked down at Eric's side.
"Let me play with that ass. I want to massage it." Ok, so nothing too shocking to hear, Eric thought. Goatee was clearly gay and an ass man as most of those seemed to be. Eric had just had some new ass-play experiences from the person blowing and fondling him at the bar. Prior to that, he had never had a finger in his ass and definitely not while he orgasmed. As long as Goatee didn't put anything IN his ass, this seemed like an alright price to pay to get this night's humiliations over.
"Nothing in it," Eric stated flatly. Goatee smirked.
"Of course not." Eric swallowed and looked at the white fabric Goatee clutched.
"Ok." Goatee clapped his hands, muffled by the fabric. He looked over towards the restrooms.
"Follow me." He led Eric back towards the restrooms, and Eric expected they would go into a stall. With his stubbornly erect cock tucked into his belt, Eric wasn't too worried about extra exposure, but the restroom was better lit than the dance floor. They ended up walking past it, and they went into a door marked `employees only' and went down a short hallway and couple of steps. They went through a metal fire door and ended up in the alley behind the building. Dumpsters and wooden pallets lined the empty access street. Eric saw a fat rat go scurrying as they rounded the dumpster by the door, putting the dumpster between themselves and the exit. Goatee dropped to his haunches and made a little twirling motion with his finger. He tucked the white underwear into his boot. "You'll get these when I am done, you tease." Eric sighed and turned around. He felt Goatee lift his skirt and hiss a sharp intake of breath. "You're a bit of a whore, aren't you? No underwear at all? Here I thought maybe you had worn a thong." Eric felt him grab both of his cheeks with each hand and squeeze. He lifted each cheek and let them fall and then massaged the globes. The outward sweeps of each massaging twirl undoubtedly exposed Eric's hole.
Goatee next tapped Eric on his inner thighs and coaxed his legs open. Eric reluctantly complied. He felt air on his balls, and he was sure Goatee was getting a full show of his refilling nuts. "Mmm," Goatee grunted, "what a view. What a delicious view." And then with his cheeks held open, Eric felt Goatee's tongue swipe against his hole. Eric gasped. "You may be straight, but who doesn't enjoy having their ass eaten?" The finger earlier had been a weird sort of pleasure, but now this? This was weird and even more delightful. His cock twitched and became rock hard held in place by the toga belt. Eric couldn't control himself, and he leaned so his ass was thrust more towards Goatee and his legs more open. The tongue swiping and tickling his ass was overwhelming, but he could swear he felt Goatee dance a fingertip across the bottom of his sack.
Eric gripped a metal bar on the dumpster and rested his head against the cold bricks of the building. Goatee grabbed his hips and pulled his ass harder onto his face and tongue, that strong, wet, hot muscle pushing into his hole a bit. Goatee's hands wandered up and gripped the toga belt, and that adjustment to his costume released his restrained cock, which bounced out from under the belt. Being so erect, Eric's dick didn't swing down but bounced around under the skirt, smearing precum on the fabric.
The door into the alley they had used earlier swung open, and Eric stiffened—well his back, at least, and stood up. Goatee withdrew from the deep rimming, and Eric could feel his rapid breathing against his low hanging balls. He thanked his luck that the dumpster made something of a barrier between the door and where he was feeling some of the most delightful sensations of his sexual life. Someone catching him being eaten out by a dude in the alley behind the club would probably be about as damaging to his reputation as being caught dripping cum with his cock out in the club.
Eric swallowed and thought about how he would handle the situation. His erection was lifting his toga skirt prominently, and Goatee was crouched behind him, with Eric practically sitting on his face. In the dark of the alley, maybe Eric could hide both of those embarrassing pieces of evidence—if Goatee was still and quiet as he was at this moment.
The door swayed a bit, and no one walked out. Maybe they hadn't closed the door properly, and the wind had taken it? Eric's cock bobbed with his heartbeat and breaths. How long would his luck hold out?
"Now, where were we?" Goatee asked and then resumed his tongue lashing of Eric's ass. Eric yielded to the tongue, his hole puckering with each swipe of Goatee's strong, long tongue. "It is so hot that you came to the club tonight commando." Eric felt Goatee drag his tongue from his perineum up to the top of his ass, and Goatee cupped Eric's buzzing balls. "I think you are glad, too," he whispered, hefting Eric's nads. "I could do this for you anytime you like. You have such a beautiful ass. It deserves worship."
Eric saw a hand appear on the far end of the door. Crap! Goatee needed to chill! He suppressed a yip when Goatee bit into his ass cheek. "I think I could even make you cum from this worship," Goatee (thankfully) hissed in a whisper. Eric reached back and gently tapped on the ass worshiper's head and forehead, hopefully alerting them to their near discovery.
Out into the alley stepped Short Thor—jeez, persistent! Eric prayed he was just out here to barf or piss given how off the rocker he had been on the dance floor. Short Thor looked around and saw Eric (but didn't see Eric's arousal or Goatee, both hidden by the dumpster). He smirked and said `hey you' in a surprisingly feminine voice. Eric vaguely recognized the voice now that he heard it, but where did he know it from? Short Thor sauntered over and laid his prop hammer on the dumpster lid. He must have noticed Eric's face twisted a bit with thought. "Oh yeah, probably the helmet gets in the way," he acknowledged. He untied the chinstrap, took off the helmet, and shook his sweaty red hair.
Or rather, HER hair. Short Thor was really She Thor, and Eric realized how he knew the voice. It belonged to Anna St. John, a fellow student whom Eric had something of a fractious past with. Their first interaction had been when they were both freshmen, and Eric had assumed she was a trans-man, given how she dressed and carried herself. To his credit, he made an effort to use male pronouns for Anna, but in a case of his narrow ego carrying his thoughts, it hadn't occurred to him to verify that assumption. She was, in fact, not transgender but a tomboy. It had been something of a dramatic week in the dorms when Anna found out what Eric thought and had been saying about her to folks. All in Eric's efforts to be accepting but Anna had become somewhat sensitive to it from bullying in high school.
It had set the tone for how they interacted, and any classes they shared with a discussion portion were guaranteed to devolve into a heated debate between the two of them. Thankfully, Eric hadn't really seen her over the summer or shared any classes this semester. Not so thankfully, she had seen his junk and molested the precum out of him on the dance floor.
"Surprised?" Anna smirked. "Tyler was telling me he had seen you come out back here." Tyler? She shook her head and clicked her tongue. "You really so desperate for a thrill or orgasm that you came out dancing with your balls hanging out?" Eric swallowed and let out an exasperated breath. Goatee, meanwhile, traced a finger along Eric's ass crack. Eric grunted and stepped forward a half step. He had to be careful, as his bouncing cock would peak out from the dumpster if he went forward much more. "You're caught!" she said with a little derisive laugh. "I can't imagine what you were thinking when a guy was slapping around your dong in front of all those people. Or showing everyone your ass by lifting that gigolo skirt of yours." Anna took another step forward, rounding the narrow side of the dumpster, a bare foot from seeing this latest debauchery Eric found himself in.
Goatee had progressed from his hands tracing over Eric's ass to resuming his lingual tickles of Eric's hole. Eric gripped the metal of the dumpster more tightly to keep from vocalizing the pleasures of that tongue lapping and wiggling against him. Just as Anna had brought forth a surge of precum from slapping around Eric's cock, Goatee's rimming was turning on his cock faucet, and Eric felt the fluid dribble down his shaft and drip to the dirty alley pavement.
"Maybe you thinking it was a guy was the real thrill? I mean, I saw all of that pre you were dripping everywhere when I was smacking that pork sword of yours. You have that reputation as a ladies' man. A real man-whore. How many clits have you made twitch with that tongue of yours?" Anna took another step and flicked his nose. "How many times has that face of yours been sat on?" Eric's eyes widened at the coincidence of him riding Goatee's face a moment ago. "I think that is your secret, Eric: you're a latent homosexual. I mean, look at this costume. You go over to Poledancers on the next block, and you would fit in with those drag queens." She edged forward a little more and pinched his nipple. Eric winced. He was about to have a repeat from earlier with the assault of his ass and this additional stimulus on his nipple from Anna's coaxing. Thank god nothing but his skirt was stimulating his cock. Eric thought back to Short Thor—Anna, he was realizing—licking up his precum from her face on the dance floor.
"Yeah, well, you looked like you were enjoying the taste of my cock when you were slapping the juice out of it." Anna looked down, her hand still resting on his pec. She giggled, which was weird to hear given their usual tense interactions.
"You might be a repulsive person," Anna admitted, "but I am still a red-blooded woman." She trailed her fingers across his abs. She cocked her head in consideration. "A trade? I won't tell anyone about you being a degenerate here at the club if you can make me cum until I ask you to stop." Eric couldn't believe what he was hearing. Anna was decidedly unladylike in appearance. That's why Eric thought she was a guy when he first met her. Unlike his usual sexual conquests, Anna didn't have voluptuous breasts or a shapely ass. Sure, she was a rock climber and bicyclist (from what Eric had gathered in various class discussions and group writing assignments), and those activities sculpted her butt into something Eric's friend Dan creatively called `the envy of any 12 year old Russian gymnast guy'.
She was abrasive. She was never willing to admit being wrong. She always took positions against whatever Eric offered in class discussions. All the same, he was intrigued with the prospect of grabbing her petite body and working his best to make her climax again and again. He could picture picking her up and thrusting into her while her arms clung to his shoulders. Those mental images—and Goatee's tonguing—drew out another copious splash of precum down his cock and onto the cement below.
Anna was watching him think and flush red with fantasized desire. "I think you are game." Eric nodded slowly. "Good. I'll let you know when. You remember my roommate Daisy? Brunette soccer player? C-cups? You literally tore her bra and panties off? She still talks about that. I'll get your number from her." She put on her helmet again and grabbed her hammer. "Oh," she said before turning back to Eric. She swung her hammer slowly around the corner of the dumpster and teased the head of Eric's cock with the head of hammer. Eric's head on his shoulders swam with the sensations of Goatee lapping his ass and Anna tapping the head of his cock. His toga skirt had dropped away from his cock, and his toga costume had come apart at the belt leaving him quite exposed.
Just as those taps and tongue lashes were bringing him close to the edge, Anna pulled hammer away, and Eric saw a flash of light. Anna laughed and was looking at her hammer now. "Insurance to make sure you follow through," she said and turned the hammer toward Eric now. Anna's phone was in the head of the hammer, and the screen was showing a very clear picture of Eric with his junk exposed and head tilted back. His cock and balls glistened in the picture from all the seminal fluids he had been leaking. Anna started whistling a tune and went back inside.
The appeal of the tongue in Eric's ass was fading, and he stepped away from Goatee while drawing the loose drapes of the toga over himself. "I think you have been compensated enough for our trade," Eric spat. Goatee smiled and wiped his chin with the back of his wrist.
"You and your girlfriend have a weird powerplay dynamic," he said. Eric sighed.
"She is definitely not my girlfriend." Goatee stood up.
"Oh, well, at the very least, you have a fun night coming up with her." He had the white underwear in his hand. "Maybe these are hers, eh?" He chuckled and handed the garment over to Eric. Finally! "Well, my offer will always be standing." He nodded at Eric's groin, which was no longer naked but still tenting the fabric lewdly. "I think you enjoyed yourself. When you are comfy on a couch or bed, you'll enjoy my tongue even more." Eric found himself blushing yet again. His body was, indeed, humming from the events of the night, and his head was swimming like a long night of drinking. His thoughts a bit scattered like he had been toking, too. "I'll see you around, Eric." And Goatee tweaked Eric's cock through the toga as he walked by back into the club.
Eric heard Goatee say `hey' to someone as he closed the door, and Eric breathed out. Would he dare to try to take home one of the drunk girls inside now that he had his briefs back? His luck had held out, more or less, right? Sure, Anna had a very lewd picture of him now, but it was outside. It was him alone. In fact, it may even reflect poorly on her for taking a picture like that without his permission. And the notion of fucking her brains out was a tantalizing set of images that played in a loop in his buzzing head.
He shook out the white garment to put on his underwear again, and his jaw dropped. This was not his underwear. These actually were some slut's white cotton panties. So much for his luck.
"Looking for these?" someone asked from near the door. Eric's eyes flicked up from the panties stretched out in his hands. His actual briefs were there pinched between thumb and forefinger dangling from the hand of a little person. He was dressed as a demon, complete with horns on his forehead and yellow slit-pupil contacts. He held a stereotypical pitchfork in his other hand and wore some sort of shoes that looked like hooves. A leather vest barely covered his muscular torso, matched with a leather skirt below. With his small stature, he could have lurked under the table with ease. He smiled and winked at Eric and stuck out a tongue that—Eric couldn't believe it—was actually forked. He brought Eric's bikini briefs closer to his nose and gave a dramatic sniff. "These are definitely yours. You want them back, come with me." And then he started walking down the alley past Eric with a leering stare at Eric's tented crotch.
And Eric followed.