Smutpunk on Skates Read online

  Monday 7:00 p.m. Anal with Ana

  Tuesday 11:00 a.m. Morning Glory with Maggie

  Wednesday 4:00 p.m. Bathroom Quickie with Becky.

  This guy was a massive sex addict using multiple women in a single day. This was exceeded buaya. He was sex kuku. She was just a cheap Chinese whore for him. He pushed until his balls slapped against her and she was ensconced in so much pleasure, she didn’t care if he pumped her full of STDs. Her MILFie pussy clenched involuntarily on the root of his young, white cock and she started to shake with delight. It was a new—different orgasm. It was phenomenal. She was thrilled to the core of her being, felt the big cock pulse and then shoot hot cream inside her sopping wet pussy. Her eyes started to roll to the back of her head. Her pussy trembled.

  She looked out the window and saw a unicorn flying gracefully.

  Pleasure gripped her whole body. Then it released with a squirt onto his dick.

  The unicorn flew away magically.

  That fucker collapsed in his chair and she stayed with her head in his desk calendar. She could feel her pussy lips quivering in delight. She had never been fucked like that before, and would never forget it.

  After a few quiet minutes, Lana stood up, pulled her top back on. She was pulling up her black skirt when that fucker reminded her, “Anything.”

  He held a diamond butt plug in his hand. “Wear it when you get home and then take a picture of it in you and send it to me.”

  Her pussy was still glazed with an orgasmic bliss so she didn’t balk at all at his suggestion and took the butt plug from him. Taking the plug up her ass would hurt. She’d never had anything go in her ass before. It had been strictly an exit, but now it will host a diamond butt plug.

  “You’re not done with me, ma?” There were traces of excitement and hope in her Chinese voice.

  “I’ll tell you when I am.”

  He pushed her toward the door.

  “Kiss me,” Lana said, turning to look the young handsome white man in the eyes.

  He smiled with amusement. “Get out.”

  She Gets Off On Bragging About Cheating

  The towers were gorgeous in the night sky. It was warm and calm. The scent of Malaysian palm oil filled the night air, contrasted by the smell of charcoal as all these night vendors hawked their delicious food—from Nasi Goreng to Peking Duck to Laksa.

  Heather and Charlie kissed on the balcony of his high-rise apartment. “Can you smell my new perfume?” she says.

  “Yes.” He caressed the back of her neck. His fingers ran through her thick black hair.

  Heather touched his belly lovingly, teasingly. “He bought it for me after I let him piss on me in his office bathroom today.

  She continued breathlessly, “I let him tie me up to the railing. Once he kissed me, I was porridge in his hands. Putty.” Heather was speaking breathlessly. Panting. “He left me there. In the bathroom. Shackled. Like a slave. His slave. Until he came back. But he didn't fuck me. He took out his dick. I wanted it. He knew it. He pissed. On my back. It was spectacular. Now you’re going to taste how good it was for me.”

  Charlie felt a rock in his stomach. It was that familiar pang of intense jealousy and hatred toward that fucker. He thought of Heather’s mom and hoped that she could help him as he laid his tongue flat on the sculpted ravine of his gorgeous girlfriend’s thin back and licked her sour and salty flesh.

  “Yes, Charlie, taste that fucker on my skin!”

  Charlie Hits Rock Bottom Pig

  Charlie sat on the toilet, his pants at his ankles and cried. He couldn’t help it. He was there for privacy. He couldn’t face Heather. Not after licking another man’s piss off her back. He held his face in his hands with his elbows on his knees and bawled like a little bitch.

  He had to tell Lana that Heather’s obsession was getting worse. She was getting pissed on, used as furniture, roller-skating every Sunday until she got that fucker’s jizz as a perfume. Charlie texted it all to Lana. That fucker had instructed Heather to text him at noon every single day and say she’s a dirty chink piss drinker. For the last week, that fucker snapped screenshots of her noon-time submission and sent it to Charlie with the line:

  Enjoying your girlfriend more than ever, bro. thanks^^.

  Dude she’s my girlfriend now. Just back off and let me enjoy her. Charlie texted back one day.

  Hey, wok, don’t forget that you still owe me one.

  Charlie knew in his gut that that fucker was right.

  How to Photograph It

  It had been sunny for over six months. Perhaps it drizzled for an hour or so occasionally, but it hadn’t poured. That was the Malay character, either sunny without a cloud in the sky or monsoons so rough, they could drive a building into the sea.

  On this blazingly hot day in the Malaysian city of Kuala Lumpur, it took Lana ages to figure out how to photograph a diamond plug up her ass. Should she just stand, hold the camera between her legs and shoot up? Should she bend over on her hands and knees, ass pointing into a mirror, showing off diamond studded shining plug? Lana didn’t know. This was her first experience with a butt plug. Moreover, this talk of how to photograph the big bad thing was contingent on the assumption that she would be able to get the behemoth butt plug into her ass in the first place. So far, it had been futile. She lacked the experience and she lacked the gumption to just go for it and jam it up and in her most tender orifice.

  The best bet, Lana thought, was to have someone else photograph her with a butt plug up her ass, but whom did Lana know that would be okay doing that? Surely the old ladies in her Mahjong Club couldn’t be trusted. She would be shamed, ostracized, and left for the vultures.

  Her mind wandered to the critical women of her card games. There was the Mahjong Club and the Go-Stop Club. The thing about Go-Stop cards—the popular Korean game, was that they all looked nearly the same to white people (the way white people think many Asians look). However, the cards had a wild variation in Lana’s Chinese eyes. Upon closer inspection, the cards had beautiful, subtle differences. Lana could see these differences. She had a keen eye for detail and applied the same in card games. She was becoming the best Go-Stop player in the community. She was a very controlling player. One of the best strategies was playing dead, in which she played the role of the losing player, only to sneak attack at the end and win. Trying to figure out this ‘butt plug in ass photograph’ to seal the deal with that fucker and get her lovely daughter out of his lecherous clutches was proving to be a demanding task, a card game she wasn’t sure she was going to win, or even complete.

  Charlie rolled up to the apartment complex feeling really awful about himself. He would have been better off without Heather. Then he wouldn’t be in this mess.

  The sidewalk was dirty, littered with plastic wrappers, cigarette butts, ugly graffiti, and obsolete electronic devices. The smell of palm oil hung in the air like rubber, cut only by the sickening stench of fish oil. He didn’t even know why he lived in Malaysia. He should really move somewhere else . . . if this fiasco with Heather ever ends. He was deep in his self-loathing thoughts when he saw Lana through the window. She was naked. She was sweating—and Asians rarely sweat. She was struggling horribly, contorting her body awkwardly.

  Lana, buck naked and MILFily beautiful, was beside herself to please that fucker so he would want her. Also, he’d leave Heather alone. Lana was scouring her apartment for something that would help get this massive butt plug past her tight sphincter. She had tried to push it in, but failed. Her sphincter was too tight, would only allow a little bit of the massive plug in, before it would automatically contract and expel the plug. This plug was no suppository. This was a big, fat plug. Although her ass had loosened and relaxed considerably since that fucker had worked on it, she wasn’t accustomed to taking big things into her ass. Lana couldn’t photograph the plug inside of her. She lacked the guts to just go for it and jam it up her own asshole. It was a total pain in the ass, literally.

  From outside,
Charlie watched Lana squat over it. Stand up. Finger her own asshole. Sigh. Squat again. Her ass just wasn’t opening. Finally, he knocked on the window

  Lana saw that Charlie had seen the whole how-to-get-a-buttplug-in-her-for-a-photograph ordeal. It was shocking how low she was stooping. It was also exhilarating. She was as wet as she was horrified. Her big juicy MILFie body was vibrating with desire from being put in her hot Asian place in the eyes of these young white men. Charlie was a cuckold. Suddenly, Lana understood her daughter better. Having Charlie getting off on watching her play the submissive role to that fucker was Heather’s thrill. It wasn’t just that fucker. It was having a cuckold’s wanton eyes on you while you submitted.

  Lana opened her front door with her arm over her big breasts and the big ass butt plug in her hand.

  A hard-on was pushing into his zipper.

  His skin greasy with desire.

  He was sweating because he was hot.

  Hot for Lana.

  Hot for being cuckolded.

  Hot for being presence part of an Alpha Male’s plan.

  “Come in! Come in! I’m naked,” Lana said. Charlie the Wok came inside. She was naked with her daughter’s boyfriend. Earlier, she had been fucked by her daughter’s tormentor—the man Heather had the biggest, most obsessive of crushes on.

  “You look great, Miss Choi,” Charlie said. He had this weird way of saying the right thing at the most awkward times. Essentially, it is how he scored Heather as his girlfriend.

  “Thank you, Charles,” Lana said. “And please call me Lana.”

  “Do you have cocoa butter?”

  Liam

  Once they’re exposed, you have to take. Don’t worry about their honor or decency, you dumb shit. She’s there. She’s naked. She wants dick. You have dick. It’s win win.

  Until You've Cocoa Buttered Your Girlfriend’s Mom, You Haven’t Lived

  The thing about the butter is that it is kind of sticky and seems counterintuitive, but it works.

  Charlie spread it all over his hands and then all over the plug. Lana bent over to let him spread it all over her ass cheeks.

  “I can’t, Miss Choi.”

  “Call me, Lana! Please.”

  “Lana, I can’t.”

  “You can.”

  You have to be committed to cocoa butter. You can’t half cocoa butter a MILFie mom. Charlie had a problem being aggressive and decisive.

  Best Laid Plans

  Months ago, Wok had been eyeing Heather and wondering how he could get to enjoy her. He was shy, overweight, and didn’t stand a chance with a girl like that. He was just a young professional dude living in Malaysia. An expat. A misfit at home and a misfit here. The only group he belonged to was the graphic designers, making plastic moulds for mass production of ice trays, laundry baskets, outer shells for baby wipe dispensers, and other plastic bullshit products. He needed to, somehow, watch Heather have sex. He never expected to be able to fuck her, so watching would have to be enough.

  He commissioned his fucked-up friend, Liam aka that fucker for the job.

  Their plan had led them to this blazing hot day, months later. Like every plan, a bunch of unexpected side effects came into play. And at this moment, only cocoa butter could help. Charlie enjoyed putting it all over her Lana’s bent over body. He started by massaging it into his own hands. Then he tentatively placed his hands on Lana’s back, in the scooped-shaped part of her back.

  “Go on. Be brave, Charles.”

  He rubbed the cocoa butter robotically into her skin. He stared at her perfectly round ass. It was the definition of a heart-shaped ass. He wanted to nuzzle his face in it. Slowly, he lowered his hands and started to massage the outer part of her butt cheeks. He was massaging her hips.

  “Wok, the plug isn’t going into my hips.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Choi.”

  “Lana.”

  He moved his hands down to her thighs and worked the cocoa butter into her thighs. He moved up her thighs and ass. He worked his hands, the outer edge of his thumbs brushed against Lana’s pussy. He was rock hard.

  Lana was wet. Charlie’s hands felt good. They were all slippery in cocoa butter and she was turned on by how illicit all this was. He was Heather’s boyfriend. Lana wanted them to stay together, thus she was willing to take that fucker’s massive plug. It was ironic, that to do so, Charlie had to touch her holiest of holes. Finally, his fingers made it to her anus and rubbed the slippery formula into her body.

  As he performed this operation, the normally greasy Charlie the Wok was really glistening.

  Lana handed the butt plug to oily Charlie. At least it looked slightly smaller in his big white hands than her delicate yellow ones. Charlie slid the plug down the crack of her ass so that the tip was against her cocoa buttered asshole.

  The plug slid in.

  She purred, clearly very relieved. “Well, Charles,” she said. “All’s well that Woks well.”

  Charlie gave a big hearty laugh. The play on words wasn’t lost on him. He smiled at her. He was quite satisfied. Then his phone buzzed and a message came up on the screen.

  Hey, Wok, look outside into the trash chute.

  Part 4 – Throwing Roller-Skates in the Trash Chute

  Heather and That Fucker

  The trash chute was one long tube that stretched from the top of the building, all the way to the basement. Apartment complex tenants took out their trash bags and dropped them into the chute and the garbage bags slid down until they hit a heap of trash at the bottom. Today, instead of garbage bags, the flip-open-door was stuffed with a young woman’s sexy head.

  Don’t think murder. This isn’t the kind of thing where a guy has latex gloves on and is knifing a body into tiny pieces. I’ll save that for when I write the Great Malaysian Thriller. Get your horror movie motifs out of my Asian SMUTPUNK!

  That fucker had instructed Heather to be outside her mom’s house at 6 p.m. Heather arrived ten minutes before the hour in her office blazer and navy blue skirt. She looked pretty. Classy. Yes, as opposed to what modern erotica motifs spew, an Asian woman can be classy (she could be a fuck doll, too, Christ! Get your monolithic thinking out of my smutpunk).

  That fucker couldn’t wait to ruin her.

  “Kneel, pig,” he told her and immediately blood rushed to his big cock. He loved this feeling. When his cock began to get hard, a feeling of depraved possibility came over him. How would he fuck her? Would he stand over and pile drive his dick into her throat? Or would he spread her sphincter slowly over his big mushroom head and shove his cock into her ass, millimeter by painful millimeter, while biting her ear and whispering what a whore she was. Or, would he pound her cunt hard while pulling her hair back?

  Heather stared at him. He was wearing a blue suit with a purple-tinted button-down shirt, tie, and a purple handkerchief. He looked damn good. He knew it. He knew she thought so too.

  “Come on, Skull Candy, kneel.”

  Heather bared her teeth like an angry little anime character. Her flat nose was too cute for this face to look angry. It was only mock-anger. She was actually prepared to kneel, prepared to submit, prepared for anything—as much as she could for the infinite trip into that fucker’s depravity he pulled out of her. That was the thing with being a sub. It wasn’t his depravity, it was hers. He helped cull it out of her and took full advantage of it. Heather was starting to realize that he needed her, every Master needs a sub. Furthermore, she was the one in control if she really thought about it.

  “Come on, fucker, I’m ready for you.”

  That fucker thought she looked cute as a button. “Hi, Heather,” he said. “You look fucking gorgeous.”

  She smiled warm honey.

  Charlie and Lana

  Charlie was having a moment himself. He always deferred to the beta position, content to take his women second. First, that fucker had Heather, then Charlie. Charlie had seen a butt plug rammed up his girlfriend’s sweet Asian ass multiple times. Now he saw the one he’d put
up Heather’s MILF mom’s ass. They weren’t related by blood, but it was still really hot to see the ‘mom’ compromised like this. Inside his girlfriend’s surrogate mom’s house, Lana’s slit glistened with cocoa butter and her ass was stuffed full of plug. Charlie could just take his dick and bury it in her cunt.

  Lana had a beautiful pussy. She didn’t shave. She just wasn’t hairy. Her bush was unkempt, but it was still neat. All she had in the pubic hair department was a small tuft above her clit. Charlie was going nuts with lust. This MILF was hot. She was fuller and sexier than her daughter was. The urge to stick his dick in her sopping wet fuck hole was enormous. What could she really do to stop him? He was overcome with the desire of an alpha male, until his phone buzzed. The text from that fucker changed everything.

  Hey, Wok, look outside into the trash chute.

  Watch me defile your girlfriend with my cock still covered in her MILF mom’s pussy juice. You can watch and stroke it.

  Charlie looked at Lana—butt plug lathered in cocoa butter, deep in her asshole, slit glistening with oil. Lana had a proud look of finally getting the butt plug insider her.

  Eyes were powerful. Charlie’s gaze outdoors influenced Lana’s gaze to look outside. Lana turned as pale as uncooked egg white. Charlie saw what made her go from proud to pale. Heather had her head in the trash chute while that fucker sodomized her from behind with a huge smile on his face.