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| “I am so damn glad to be out of that
Chinese fruit farm and away from that Dr. Wacko”, Dick Fitswell said to
himself as his plane arrived at the San Francisco airport. I am back in
the U.S. just in time to celebrate Christmas. “Fuck Christmas. If it
wasn’t for my Dick Fitswell Fund to help the homeless I’d just sit this
sorry ass excuse for a holiday out.” Dick Fitswell pondered the real
meaning of Christmas for a moment as he lusted after his blonde
stewardess’s shapely ass. “There are more suicides on Christmas than in
any day of the year,” he remembered from reading an article in “Time
Magazine” several years ago. Think of all the families barely making it
being railroaded by beady eyed merchants into buying all those presents
they couldn’t afford. Of mothers and Fathers dreading each new Christmas
knowing all too well they would be put months behind in paying the bills
all because of those rotten Christmas carols being played on the radio,
those Christmas lighted displays in all the stores and people going around
ringing Christmas bells all crying out in unison: “Give, Give, give to the
kiddies or be a smuck”. And look at all the depressed people out there
because they never got married, don’t have a steady boyfriend or
girlfriend, or because they got divorced and no longer have custody of the
children as they remember Christmases past when the whole family could get
together. “I’m sure glad I am doing something about it,” Dick Fitswell
thought smugly. The sidewalks of San Francisco were filled with the homeless. Here it never got below 55 degrees. Which made the city a Mecca for homeless people of every description–men and women, clad in light jackets, with only a sleeping bag or a blanket or two for a shack. They covered the sidewalks like roaches. Dick Fitswell moved among them, every now and then picking someone at random he would give a hundred dollar bill to. He had been doing this for ten years, each Christmas heading for the streets of San Francisco where he would dispense 50 hundred dollars bills to the crowd. A man wearing a stocking hat recognized Fitswell and started calling out his name: “Fitswell. Fitswell. Fitswell. The crowd picked up on it, several people here and there chanting “Fitswell” with the man, until hundreds of homeless people all started to cry out in unison. “Fitswell, Fitswell–Fitswell.” “Jesus Fucking Christ. I know it’s a scam, Dick Fitswell muttered to himself, but this scam--what a thing of beauty it is. At first I used the idea just so I could fuck more chicks and now it’s come to this----The Dick Fitswell Homeless Fuckathon. Women, they are such idiots. I’d be taking my dates back to my apartment and ask them for donations. “Hey baby, can I ask you for a little spare cash? Think of all the homeless who have no where to go for Christmas? I’m giving five hundred dollars of my own money to give to the homeless. Can you spare me some?” It gets them every time. I mean how can they refuse? And if I didn’t ask my dates for donations to the homeless, they’d probably think I was insensitive. Voila—I just tell them I’m giving five hundred of my own money to the homeless and they think I’m Mr. Sensitive–the man who cares about people. It works like a charm. Almost all of them end up fucking me and they wind up giving me their money. Dick Fitswell continued to roam among the homeless who littered the sidewalk, looking for the prettiest woman he could find as he thought about how he had collected six thousand from his dates while pocketing a thousand for his trouble. He first considered a brunette, who was pretty enough but not particularly striking. “She’d be okay on an off night,” Dick Fitswell said to himself, “but tonight is Christmas Eve and I want someone I can really remember.” Then he saw her. Oozing with raw sexuality she was of a undeterminable black, Hispanic or Oriental mixture. She wore an old blue denim jacket which didn’t quite hide her prominent breasts. “She’s the shits,” Dick Fitswell whispered to himself. Not wasting a moment, he went right over to her. “What are you doing on this sidewalk on Christmas Eve?” he asked her gently. “I’ve been down on my luck lately. My boyfriend just kicked me out of his place.” “Do you have any children?” “I have three,” the woman replied. “I’ve been trying to get custody back but I don’t have a chance until I get back on my feet again.” “I’m going to give you a place to stay tonight and two hundred dollars. That should help.” “I would love that. It’s not that comfortable out on this sidewalk. Do you have anything to drink at your place?” “Whatever you want. I have a pretty well stocked bar.” Dick Fitswell had all the essentials in his hotel room. Vodka, Gin, Beer, Wine, Bourbon, Scotch and his favorite of them all, a bottle of Tequila. He had always believed that alcohol was alcohol and that it didn’t make much difference what you drank as long as it was as strong as everything else. Through years of experience he had learned that Tequila seemed to do the job much faster than practically anything else, causing most women to lose their inhibitions after only three or four shots. It didn’t take long for Dick Fitswell to convince the woman to try the Tequila. “I’ve found that most real men and women drink Tequila,” Dick Fitswell said after they had several shots together. “Why’s that?” asked the woman. “A real drinker wants to have that warm fiery taste going through his gullet. Or hers”, Dick Fitswell added. “People who are into a feeling of heightened senses go for the Tequila. It’s the real shit.” “I always wondered why I liked it,” the woman replied. “It’s like flucking,” said Dick Fitswell. “There’s good fucking and then there’s bad fucking. That’s the reason I chose you. Your preference for Tequila shows that you are a woman with a heightened degree of sexual awareness. Please take your clothes off. I’ll show you what I mean” Dick Fitswell had made Egg Nog just for the occasion. He had been right about the girl. He didn’t have to say another word to get her in bed. “She’s lucky she’s got me for tonight,” he said to himself. “Poor thing never had a real man like me before which is why she’s living out on the sidewalks of San Francisco.” He crawled on top of her, pulled her legs apart with his hands, and gently started to stick his penis in her which had now swelled up to its full fifteen inches. “God—your are tight!” he told her as he tried to wiggle it into her opening. His cock felt her lips resist his entry. But after a little thrusting he managed to get the tip of his penis into her. He felt a slight exquisite pain as she loosed up just enough for him to jam eight inches in. Pulling out of her, Dick Fitswell reached for the pitcher of egg nog and started to pour it into her opening. When he finished he lay on top of her with his penis hanging over her face and began sucking the egg nog out of her love channel. “What does this bastard think I am?” thought the girl. “A dixie cup? Dick Fitswell didn’t enjoy oral sex that much, believing it to be just the means of getting a girl to open up enough to accept his huge cock. Within five minutes he had loosened her up enough to introduce her to his full length. “Let me inject you full of Christmas spirit,” he said to her as he reversed his position and plunged deep inside her. He reached under her buttocks and lifted her up against him as he started to thrust. Then he took her mouth in his, biting hard against her lips as he continued to work his ramrod deep inside her. “They like the pain,” Dick Fitswell thought, “and I am just the man to give it to them. Women love pain while they are having sex. It makes them come all over themselves.” He bit harder making sure he drew blood. Dick Fitswell was squirting his last drops of semen into her grunting like an animal as he pulled her by the hair while still crushing his lips against hers. When he finished he lay on his back next to her and casually lit a cigarette. “Baby, when this night is over I want you to tell all your friends about me because I will return again next year and pick someone new out who’s going to get lucky.” “Are you into bondage, Dick?” “Not really. I like being in control and being tied up is not my idea of fun.” “Then you haven’t tried it that much then. I’m really good at it. I’ll make you come and come and make you my love slave.” ‘I don’t think so. Some other night possibly.” “Are you chicken, Dick? Are you afraid of me?” “You gotta be kidding me. There isn’t a woman alive who scares me.” “Then let me tie you up. I promise you that you will remember me each Christmas for the rest of your life.” “Okay then. You have challenged me and I’m too much of a man to ever back down from a challenge,” said Dick Fitswell. Almost five foot nine the woman was strong and athletic. Her powerful back muscles were almost imperceptible. She had a slender waist and a tight ass from all the walking she had been doing getting around in the San Francisco hills. Dick Fitswell had barely noticed the understated power in her long smooth body since becoming captivated by her beautiful breasts jutting out into her denim jacket the moment he first saw her. She had brought her back pack into his motel room from which she now retrieved two twenty foot sections of rope. Working quickly and decisively she tied his feet to the foot of the bed. Then she tied his hands and arms down to the bed frame on both sides of the mattress. She never mentioned that she loved climbing mountains and often used ropes to climb up and down cliffs. Dick Fitswell lay in bed watching her, smugly thinking: “She tries any shit I don’t like, I’m getting loose because I am Dick Fitswell and I always win.” He watched her jump off the bed onto the floor where she could put her full weight into tightening the rope imprisoning his right arm. Before it registered on Dick Fitswell that this was no game, she ran over to the left side of the bed and yanked hard against the rope. Dick Fitswell’s arms felt as if they had been nearly yanked out of their sockets. She moved down to his legs and tightened the ropes that secured his feet to the foot of the bed. He felt the ropes bite deeply into his wrists. “Your wrists will bleed a little bit,” the girl told Dick Fitswell, “but that’s for your pleasure, not mine. But I need to get your ass up into the air with this backpack. Positioning the backpack against him she hovered over him as she reached underneath his cheeks. Mesmerized by what she would do next, Dick Fitswell didn’t resist as she slid the backpack underneath his ass which was now fifteen inches above the mattress, a distance that was ironically the length of his penis. Dick Fitswell watched her take his penis into her mouth. He closed his eyes as she pulled the large dildo from one of the pockets of her back pack. He felt something hard being shoved up his butt hole. At first the girl moved it gently into his anus as she pushed it in and out. Not waiting for him to fully loosen up, she thrust it all the way in as soon as she got the tip of the dildo past his sphincter muscle. “Fuck....That hurts,” Dick Fitswell screamed. “You goddamn bitch. Couldn’t you at least use some lubrication?” The woman spit his cock out of her mouth as she replied, “It’s Christmas Dick. I just want to give you something special.” The woman took Dick Fitswell’s penis back into her mouth , sucking it as she slid the dildo back and forth. Although the pain was great, Dick Fitswell could still feel her moist lips all along his shaft. Now that she felt she had asserted herself the woman started to ease up on her right hand that had been thrusting the dildo up Dick Fitswell’s ass. She mounted him as she gently eased the dildo back and forth, and took his huge penis deep inside her. “Now I can talk to you, Dick. And I will keep talking to you as you come.” She could feel the excitement course through Dick Fitswell’s body as he strained against the ropes, then feeling him about to come, she once again started pummeling his anal cavity the dildo. When she felt the first globules of semen explode into her box the woman bore down on the dildo with all her strength. Dick Fitswell felt his penis exploding come between her legs as blood started to stream out of his rectum onto the sheets. He felt a brief moment of agonizing pain and blacked out. Dick Fitswell slowly opened his eyes when he came to and saw the woman squatting over him. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Fitswell,” the woman taunted. “Never forget me,” she said as she urinated all over his face. |