Date: Sat, 30 Dec 2023 18:24:57 +0100 (CET)
From: Justin Scholar <saad17@mailfence.com>
Subject: Toga Clad, Tugged, and Tossed - II

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.