From turtlemeat69@hotmail.com Sat Feb 03 17:10:05 2001
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From: "Kenny Gamura" <turtlemeat69@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} RP  Got Beer-complete (M`F+, oral, bdsm, humour)
Date: Sat,  3 Feb 2001 17:10:05 -0500
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                        DISCLAIMER

This is a piece of fiction. Its characters have not even
begun to contemplate such things, mostly because said
characters do not exist.  Any imagined resemblance to people
living or deceased is either the result of dementia on the
reader's part or that the reader is, in fact, a character
this story.  None of these are conditions to be proud of,
and it would not be wise to draw attention to one's self by
claiming any similarity.

It is assumed that readers of this story have the permission
of the state, mom, dad, and the pastor and are able to fully
tell the difference between real and make-believe.  If not,
you really ought not to read this; it'll rot your brain out.
Furthermore, the writer is aware that he is bound for hell,
but welcomes both praise or/and well thought out, humourous
insults on his writing skill or lack there of. Note: he
already knows he cannot spell warth shet.

The events and descriptions of this story are the sole
property of Kenny N Gamera and should not be recorded,
reposted, or profited from in anyway without express written
permission of the person hiding behind that pen name.
Reposting and free archiving may be tolerated given the
writer's name and address remains attached.  Archiving by
Deja.Com, and ASSTR/ASSM is assumed and encouraged.

Thanks go to Souvie for proofing.  Remember, the fuck-ups
still belong to me.

Thank You and Good Day,
Kenny N Gamera
turtlemeat69@hotmail.com

ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Gamera


                         "Got Beer?"
                             or
                     Harping with Kenny
                             by
                       Kenny N Gamera

Mistake number one, answering the door.

There was one of each outside my apartment. The blonde was
blonde (Do I have to spell out what I mean?) with largish
tits that were crowned with nipples the size of a sewing
thimble. The brunette wore her hair short around her
shoulders and pushed back behind her earlobes. The redhead
was tall and thin, with freckles in all the important places
freckles like to hang out. The black girl was the colour of
fine dark chocolate. The Asian girl had the small, just-a-
mouthful breasts that I crave the most. Each stood in the
hall without a stitch of clothing, hands behind her back.

I slammed the door shut.

Okay, I know I'm loco, but women are not known for waiting
outside my door, even with clothes on. To see five
attractive young women outside my door was a shock to my
system. To see five attractive, naked young women outside my
door was proof positive that my system was out of order and
maybe even out to lunch.

I looked through the peephole.

I saw five naked women arranged in two ranks, tallest in
back, shortest in front. All looked at the door expectantly.
I went "Erp" (a normal thing to do when one realizes that
one has finally gone out of his freaking gourd) and against
my better judgment (SOP) opened the door.

"Hello," they chanted together, "Mr. Gamera."

"Erp!"

I slammed the door shut.

I began to shake.

I continued to doubt my sanity.

I opened the @#&*$% door again.

Each held out her right hand. In her grip was a six pack of
beer. A really good beer of Irish origin. If a certain
whiskey is my darling, then that beer is my sweetheart.

"We brought beer," they chanted in chorus, "Mr. Gamera."

I slammed the door shut.

I began to shake.

Violently.

There was a soft tap on the door. I tried to resist, but I
could not. I was trapped in some horrible spell. `This is
just a weird dream you are having,' I told myself as my hand
reached for the door handle.

I peeped around the crack I had made in the door. Again,
there were the five girls, each a different flavour. Still,
each held out a six pack of beer. I felt my will crumbling.
Then I heard it - the crinkling sound of cellophane
packaging, as each moved her left hand from behind her back.

"We brought pork rinds," they chanted as one voice, "Mr.
Gamera."

I was theirs.

The second mistake - letting them in.

The cats did the sensible thing; they were under the futon
hiding.  I laid on top of it, my head resting in the lap of
the ample blonde.   The brunette held a pint glass of lager
for me to sip while the Asian  girl placed porkrinds into my
mouth.  The black girl and the redhead  played tongue hockey
on my dick.  My hands were like Caesar - just a  roamin'.

Like an idiot, I thought I was in heaven.

After a moment, the two feeding me traded with the two
eating me.  I got to enjoy the new sensations of different
talents.  The redhead had concentrated on the head of my
dick while the black girl had paid greater attention to the
shaft.  The Asian, however, went straight to my balls. The
brunette, well, she went straight to work.  On the first
try, she swallowed me, and I darn near choked on the
porkrind the redhead had popped into my mouth.  The blonde
kissed my forehead and wiped the crumbs of deep fried pig's
skin from my cheeks with the back of her hand.  No one
offered me anything else as the two between my legs finished
their task at hand.

Finally, with a scream of victory and a cream of great
proportions, I came into the cute brunnete's mouth.  With
apparent practiced ease, she swallowed every drop.  A shame
because I like seeing that last bit which sometimes runs
from the corner of the mouth down the chin.

Mind you, this was an omen.

Things were about to turn ugly.

With a capital UGH!

A sigh escaped from me, and I sagged deeper into the cleft
between the buxom blonde's thighs.  She looked down at me
and said the first words that any of them had uttered on
their own, and the first since they  offered me the pork
rinds.

"It is our turn now."

"Sure, what do you want me to do, eat each of you out?"

"No," said the black girl, "we want something kinky."

"Well, I'm not into too much that's really weird.  Is it
golden showers?"

"No," answered the redhead.

"Well?" I wondered out loud.

"We want you..." started the Asian.

"... to throw a thesaurus at us," finished the brunette.

"WHAT?!"

"Throw a thesaurus at us," squealed the blonde excitedly.

"Please, Mr. Gamera," went the black girl.

"Pretty please," went the redhead.

"With sugar on top," went the Asian.

"We really need it bad, Mr. Gamera," went the brunette.

"Erp," went me in the middle of the bed.  "I don't know if I
have a thesaurus."

"YOU WHAT!" cried the five, back into unison mode.

I jumped from the futon and ran to one of the bookshelves.
I searched for anything I could find that might work.

"A French-English dictionary, hardly used?"

"NO GOOD!" they replied.

"A concise dictionary of philosophy?"

"RUBBISH!" they declared.

"A dictionary of ecology?"

"UNFRIENDLY!" they roared.

"A dictionary of geology, soft cover?"

"TOO SOFT!" they answered.

"A misspeller's dictionary?"

"TOO LATE!"

Each got up from the futon and marched towards me, arms
swinging and breasts swaying.  The blonde picked up the
misspeller's dictionary and clouted me on the head.

"Cad!"

The black girl took the geology dictionary and followed
suit.

"Jerk!"

The redhead took the ecology dictionary and bonked me good.

"Asshole!"

The Asian girl used the philosophy dictionary.

"Dick!"

The brunette grabbed the French-English dictionary, did her
worst, and shouted, "White, heterosexual male!"

They walked to the door, stopped, and turned to look at me.
They glared with contempt.  "Men! You are all the same."

I never saw them again for the rest of my life.


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