Novel in progress - Swimming in Quicksand

Equal Opportunity Gangbang

            I shouldn’t be doing this.

            I should be home studying my notes for the presentation I have to give  tomorrow morning, and then performing a comforting night-time ritual that tells me it’s time for bed. Maybe read a book. Have a glass of wine. Watch some moronic television that makes me forget my cares and worries.

            But who the hell am I trying to kid? That’s not me.  

            That’s never been me!

            Ten years have passed since I went crazy while trapped in a career I despised, drinking my nights away, popping Ambien like it was candy, and seeking out depraved sexual thrills to ease the misery of my daily existence.

            I am forty years old today. June 1st. I’d like to say that ten years has mellowed me out, made me more mature, less extreme, enabled me to live life like a well-adjusted middle-aged man.

            I’d like to say that, but let’s get real.

            Nothing has changed!

            For those of you who read my memoir Burnt Popcorn and Cheap Perfume, you know me very well. For the rest of you my name is Michael O’Donnell.

            So here I am.

            Instead of being at home preparing for another mind-numbing day of endless emails, unrealistic deadlines, and participating in meetings that will make me feel like a total moron, I am drinking a vodka and Red Bull in the parking lot of the Hampton Inn. Inside there is a party going on. A gangbang with one “young, insatiable, slut, who has the stamina to take on twenty to forty guys.”

            Or at least that is what the event listing on swinglifestyle.com described.

            Party starts at 8 pm and goes on until the last guy cums. Bring Your Own Condoms. $40 entrance fee for single males. Couples and single ladies are free.

            I tilt the Red Bull back and finish the drink in one last gulp.

            I think of my work day tomorrow.

            About the stupid fucking presentation I have to give. About The clinical staff who will be watching my every move, relentlessly asking me questions that I will not be able to answer. About the thirty-five tasks remaining in this month’s “build bucket.”

            I think about wanting to tell the bitch I work with to go fuck herself.

            I think…and think...and think!

            About how unhappy I am! About not wanting to wake up to face another day of this! Of everything and everyone I have lost in life. And the black thoughts just keep coming, overpowering me, jabbing thick, long needles into my brain until I want to scream and scream and scream.

             And I almost do.

            But instead I squeeze the can of Red Bull. I squeeze it. And squeeze it. And I continue squeezing it until my hand is numb. And I feel like using as much strength as it takes to completely destroy the can, pulling it apart and then using the sharp edges to slice my face until it is nothing but bloody pulp.

        When I can no longer hold onto it with a fierce grip I raise my right hand and toss it at the front windshield as hard as I can. A splash of liquid sprays my face and I take a deep breath as I feel the alcohol sedate my body and mind.

        The alcohol flows through my veins and I am less on edge. I am ready for escape. Ready to get naked in a room of strangers. Ready to bang.

        “Hey, how’s it going?” The man who opens the door reeks of cologne, cigarettes, and alcohol. He appears to be in his mid-twenties, has dark circles around his eyes, and is dressed in camouflage cargo shorts and a white t-shirt. Between his lips is a menthol cigarette and he mumbles, “What is your screen name on SLS?”

        “Soulless Fuckpig,” I tell him.

         “Ha ha, yeah, I remember you now.” He grabs a pen and marks a sheet of paper on the desk in front of him. “Okay, soulless, that will be forty dollars.”

           I hand him two crumpled twenty dollar bills.

            “Thank you my friend. Okay, so here are the rules,” he begins. I look around the room. There are two king size beds. About fifteen guys ranging from age eighteen to sixty-five are standing around, most of them either in their boxers or completely naked. The majority are drinking beer or some other form of alcohol. Three men are on the bed with a young blond haired woman. She has short spiky hair, lots of tattoos. She is lean, almost emaciated, aside from her enormous, obviously enhanced tits. She is sucking two guys off at the same time and riding another beneath her.

            “Condoms are required for penetration, not for oral. You can cum on her face, her tits, her ass, but not in her mouth. There’s some beer in the fridge, some vodka on the counter, and some mixers on the kitchen counter. Have fun!”

             I grab a Victory Hop Devil from the fridge and drink it in about three gulps. I am more than buzzed and watching the slut on the bed get fucked while she rubs the two cocks together in her mouth is making me extremely horny.

            I undress and approach the bed. The guy underneath stops thrusting and removes himself from underneath her saying, “Oh man, I need to recharge.”

            The slut takes the cocks out of her mouth. “So do I. Give me a minute guys.” She stands up and walks over to the man who opened the door. “I need a timeout.”

            He kisses her on the lips. “You call the shots, hon.”

            He then proceeds to cut a line of cocaine and she snorts it.

            “Okay, let’s go. Give me those cocks. She climbs back on the back, lays back and fingers herself. I walk over and she grabs mine and another dude’s cock and begins rubbing them together inside her mouth. This goes on for a few minutes until I grab a condom and roll it on. I move down to the edge of the bed and then stick my finger inside her. She is nice and wet. I lose myself inside her, fucking until I finally begin to feel all of the tension from the previous day, week, month, desperately try to free itself from my damaged mind and body.

            I pull out, remove the condom and then cum on her belly.

            “Oh baby, oh yeah, cum on me, cum on me, baby!”

            She smears my ejaculation on her stomach and tits. Afterwards I walk to the bathroom and clean myself up. Another guy has now taken my place. I get dressed, walk to the door, then turn around for one last look to remember and savor this depraved evening so that I can recall it tomorrow when I am miserable, overwhelmed, angry, feeling inferior and helpless by my mountainous volume of work.

            I see that she now has three cocks she is taking turns sucking. As I am opening the door I hear an Asian man say, “Hey, you equal opportunity, right? You equal opportunity?”

            She grabs him in her hand and answers his question.