Written by artsmart
03 Apr 2016
the underground parking lot
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8 minute read
Years ago, when I was doing compulsory army duty, I had a friend called Boobs. His real name was Bobby, though. But because he was such a huge boer without a neck and huge meaty tits, everything else being just muscle and fat, we all called him ‘Boobs’.
So there’s me and Boobs on our first weekend pass after two months of being in the bush, as jags as two hyenas on heat. Boobs had an old Chev, one of those with a big soft leather seat at the back,( for the chicks). And we would hit the town in this thing. Especially after a rugby match, after the after party, after we’d got some girls, that Chev would be used as our passion wagon. Boobs, used to call me Artease, because, as he used to say, he was so leelik that no girl ever wanted to have him and I was the one that could tease the panties of any wanting bird. Then I’d lure them into the passion wagon and do all kinds of saxy things with them, while he,Boobs, watched the show…and wanked himself off. He was happy with this and it didn’t bother me. He was actually a very sweet gentleman, like a handsome Shrek sort of a man, and I always wondered why the ladies never went for him. Anyway, for some unknown reason, when I was out with him, I always got laid.
We’d got ourselves each a bottle of Rum, a six pack of beers and a box of Chesterfields. The idea was to go to see the new shopping mall some twenty kays away from our camp in Pretoria. When we eventually arrived there, because the Chev couldn’t do more than 20kays an hour anyway, we drove into the underground parking lot, me with my feet up on the dash, him with his fishing hat on his head. The music was pumping Bruce Springsteen’s Born In the USA and the bar was open. By the time we had parked our ‘fuck wa’, we had already had half a bottle of rum each. We didn’t want to overdo it so we just sat there telling grappies, listening to good music and smoking our lungs out while laughing our heads off.
There was hardly anyone in there, probably because it was 9am on Saturday morning. So we practically had the whole place to ourselves, until the security guard knocked on the window. What, he wanted to know was, what were we doing there?. Boobs, got out of the car and stretched like a lion and the security guard said all was well and that we could stay there as long as we turned the music down. Boobs just had a natural knack when it came down to certain things and was happy for that.
But then Boobs needed to pee. So we had to get out of the car and search for a spot. Eventually he could hardly walk anymore, not only because he had had too much rum and jokes, but because he really did need to piss. Seeing that the security guard had also ducked, we headed for the part of the garage where the light was streaming in from the street above. There was a series of gratings above our heads. I had chosen this spot because there would be no proof that we had pissed there, a public place, because lots of people used to piss through the grids from up on the road. So the place smelt like pee and all other goeters not worth mentioning now. We felt safer there.
Boobs got his monster of a schlong out and started to water the place down. He looked like a fireman with a water cannon, managing to spray a clear passage among the dozens of papers and other rubbish that lay about. I hung around near him jumping out of the way of the spray, hoping he wouldn’t start playing some weird spray game with me. Fortunately he did not, but maybe he would have, had I not looked up through the grid.
There above us was a chick and an oke, standing over the grid kissing each other. Boobs had stopped pissing and I told him what the cat had brought home. You have to get onto my shoulders, Artease, he had said, get up there and tell me what’s going on. I thought it a brilliant idea, so I used the back pocket of his jean as a step to hoist myself up onto his bulls back. He had a vest on. His back was huge and damp. It wasn’t easy to get a grip. Now I understood why he was so good in rugby. Eventually I got onto his shoulders, checked my balance and reached up toward the grid. Alls well, I reported in a whisper.
From then on I played telephone line for Boobs bellow.
He’s groping under her dress now,…Boob, fuck, bru..did you hear me? Ja, don’t worry man, I’m just getting ready here. Okay, what’s next. Oh my god, she’s got no panties on. Now he’s touching her on the lips. She’s rocked forward onto her toes…her hips going up. Now…she’s got her legs more apart. They’re still smooching. Boobs, what the hell are you doing down there, I’ll lose my balance! Don’t worry Artease, every things under control here. Boobs had begun wanking himself down there while I was standing on his shoulders. Come on…what’s happening up there?, tell me, he said.
I screwed my eyes up to peer through the grating. The guy had removed his hand. His hand is gone now….I think he’s…. Don’t think, Artease, asseblief, tell me how it is. Ja okay, so I just made up that part. He’s got her boob now. I can see her nipple in his thumb, he’s rolling it, like he’s rolling a joint.
And while I was recalling, what I could not see, in the most convincing way to the down below wanking Boobs, I was ogling at the true spectacle unfolding in front of me. My own private show, so to speak. Her lips were moving up there. Some pussy juice was beginning to ooze out between her labia. She was moving her hips lightly in a rhythmical way and while this happened her lips squished from side to side, getting gouged in the process. When the ooze had gathered enough momentum, gravity took over and it began its decent downward. First with a long thin slither of juice attached to this one big drop of it and then as that thinned out the drop broke free and hurtled through space like a comet. Straight for me! I lined myself up with it, closed my eyes and just opened my mouth. It was a gift from the Goddess. This blob of divine nectar went straight into my mouth, no jokes. What a luck! Like a pea in a pod.
Artease!..it was Boobs, what’s up man…tell me. He had stopped wanking for a moment because I had fallen silent waiting for my fill of pussy juice. Little did he know.
His hand is back in, I said. And it was too. Now she’s got his cock out. Wooo oooh, Boobs down below. She’s wiped her own hand on her wet puss and is smearing it onto his dicks head. I could feel Boobs begin to jive below me again. Shlaff, schlaff, schlaff. Easy there Boobs, I don’t want to fall off. Remember I’m on your shoulders. Ja…okay mun, gaan aan.
Now she’s got his cock by the head and is sliding her hand down its neck…all the way down…twisting her hand one way and another way. She’s coming back up again and his piepie is throbbing. Now he’s stepped in behind her. Lifting her skirt. Ah, she’s got such a cute lil bum…you won’t believe it. His got that hard cock right up from behind. She’s got her hand slung under her dripping cunt. She’s guiding him in. Cocks going in. Fuck she’s so wet it’s like cutting butter. SCHLAFF. She’s saying fuck me, fuck me, baby, fuck me ...Boobs…she says Fuck me!. And Boobs is pumping harder down there, so fucking hard that I slip, lose my balance, land on his big head, bounce off it like a rock on rubber and come tumbling down next to him. And he is all yeh cumming!!!, shooting his loot in front of him onto the movie poster of James Bond’s Octapussy. Well, he got that right. Mr. Bond had gotten shot in the eye that day by Corporal Boobs (SADF), even if he was only a movie poster.
The lovers above us, fucked each other there that day, until they both came together. Him inside her and she spread eagled with her face up against the glass wall in front of them. He pulling out and her releasing cum mixed love juice dripping onto the grating. Me and Boobs down below, laying on our backs, half drunk and tasting the love drops as they sprayed over us. Heavenly rain it was.