The Crew: Poison
by Bebe
"No, I mean really, what is your name?"
The boy cocked his shaven head at an angle, then righted it again to take a pull on his beer. He was shirtless, of course, wearing only jeans and scruffy, unlaced work boots. He had a silver ankh held close to his Adam's apple with a silver chain and miniature rings through his nipples.
I put my drink back on the bar. My lipstick had left a purple stain on the rim.
Cute as he was, this boy irritated me. He was stupid.
"So what is a name, really?" I said, with the stress on really. "The thing they forced on you when you were born -- or who you really are?
"I'm Poison, like I told you. "
He shrugged shoulders which it must have taken weeks in the gym to shape.
"All right, be that way. Anyway, I like your tats. "
I like my tats, too. They cover my whole torso and both arms. Tattoos tell the world who you are without your having to say a thing. I have snakes with fangs dripping, black bottles marked with an "X," toadstools -- they all say "Poison.
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I fell silent and just gave the pretty boy the stare and finally he shrugged again and walked away with his beer, muttering "Bitch!" under his breath, but loud enough for me to hear. He disappeared into the bar crowd.
Stupid as the boy was, his parting shot was spot-on -- I am a bitch, and I'm proud to be one.
I turned to watch the door. I was waiting for the rest of The Crew to get here.
At last Cat's long, blonde shag appeared through the bar's glass front door. Behind her were the dark twins, Sass and Britt.
The three of them pushed through the door, like an emo version of the musketeers.
Cat wore a cruelly-short blue jean skirt, a black bustier, plus her trademark mismatched stockings: one white with horizontal red stripes, the other blue with yellow mushrooms in vertical rows. She had on red, glittery high heels, like Dorothy headed to the prom at Emerald City High School.
The twins were dressed exactly alike. Sass had decided this evening they would appear in low-slung, black miniskirts with black scarves as brassieres, tied in back. They wore black mesh stockings and knee-high black boots.
I wore a purple halter and miniskirt, purple stockings. My boots were black with five-inch spikes.
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We had agreed to meet at The Seventh Circle of Hell to troll for men. None of the boy-toys were available, this being summer and most of the university students out of town, and this bar usually had a juicy selection, even among the few who stayed on for summer classes.
I was more than ready for sex. Since Cat had called at noon, I'd been preparing myself in my special way. As soon as I hung up the phone, I stripped and began massaging my pussy.
I did this until I was on the verge of cumming, then pulled back. I repeated this routine every thirty minutes throughout the afternoon, diddling my clitty to the point that one more diddle would send me over the edge, then pulling back. I'm telling you, when you do this for several hours and you finally get a cock inside you, you fucking erupt! It builds up this incredible yearning down where you live, and it just keeps building the longer you're at it, until you're in agony. At the end of a few hours, I feel like if I can't get my nut, only murder would satisfy me.
It's a feeling so grand that you don't want to get used to it, you don't want it to go stale, so it's something I do only three or four times a year. Of course, studying for the next day's classes or reading of any sort was out -- the throbbing inside my cunt was too distracting for that. I had to settle for an afternoon of watching Jerry Springer and the like.
Needless to say, I was disappointed when pretty boy turned out to be such a lout. I was aching to fuck.
So I was glad the rest of The Crew had arrived.
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It meant we could get down to some serious trolling.
"Hey, Dirty Girl," Cat greeted me as she and Sass and Britt walked up to the bar. "Any good dirty boys around?"
"It's early," I said. "I've only had one nibble so far and he was a thud. "
I pointed out the pretty boy, who now was trying to shovel his shit to a girl who called herself Jenny X. She was blonde and had great tits and I fantasized about her a lot during myafternoon of not-quite-cumming.
Jenny X was a lot like us and we talked from time to time about inviting her to join The Crew. But Cat seemed lukewarm to the idea. I think Cat likes being the only blonde in the group. It's one of the ways she defines herself as the leader.
We each scanned the bar looking for likely males, but the longer we looked, the more convinced we became that we weren't going to find any here. Aside from the pretty boy, the thin crowd was made up of bespectacled nerdy types, or guys who were only wannabe punk, or the occasional frat boy who thought he was slumming.
"There's nobody here with any hair on his chest," complained Sass.
"Yeah," echoed Britt. Not that it would matter to Britt.
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If we ordered her to fuck a guy with macaroni sprouting from his chest, she'd do as she was told.
Who am I kidding? At this point, I was willing to fuck just about anyone or anything, I was so horny.
"Let's get out of here," said Cat. "Maybe there's somebody on the street. "
I was too ready for sex to think about trolling for even five minutes more. Pretty boy and Jennie X were drinking beer at a table just next to the door, and as we swept out I grabbed him above the elbow and yanked him to his feet.
"You were hitting on me earlier, right? You wanna fuck?" I asked. "Well, get your ass up and come on!"
"Hey, I was talking to him," Jenny X began, but stopped when Car whirled around and gave her the death stare.
I hustled pretty boy down the street, the rest of The Crew following, and into the alley that ran behind The Seventh Circle. I pushed him past a dumpster to the back wall of the bar, so passing patrol cars wouldn't see us.
"Come on, get it unzipped!" I said while doing the job myself. I knelt down on one knee, spit on his cock and started sucking it.
"Hey, what the --" pretty boy began, sort of holding his hands up in the defense posture, but I paid no attention to him. All I wanted to do was get his cock hard enough to slide inside me.
But his movement caught Cat's wary eye and she immediately reached into her purse and pulled out the can of Mace she always takes on trolling dates, just in case.
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"Don't you dare try to hurt my girl!" she yelled as she brandished the Mace before pretty boy's face.
"Hey. . . hey. . . " he muttered sheepishly. His alarm didn't keep him from getting his wood.
Finally pretty boy was hard enough, so I stood and pulled my panties off, tossing them to Cat, who caught them in her free hand.
I turned and put my ass up to his crotch.
"Do it!" I ordered as I bent forward with my hands on my knees.
I felt every inch of his cock as he entered me, felt the hard shaft slide on my juices until my cunt was full of him. He put his hands on my hips and pushed his crotch forward, trying to get even further inside me.
He reversed, pulling his cock back until only the head remained, then started pushing it in again.
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Apparently, pretty boy was one of those slow fuckers whotry to extract every bit of pleasure from each rub. But I wasn't in the mood for slow -- I'd built up my itch all afternoon and now I was ready to cum hard.
"Fuck me harder and faster!" I screamed at pretty boy. "Come on! Give it to me hard!"
I bucked my hips back violently so he'd get the idea.
Pretty boy got the idea and began slamming his cock into me. He bucked me so violently that I had to reach up and around and hold the back of his neck to keep from falling forward.
This is how I like to be fucked. Slam it into me as hard as you can and as far as you can, then back out and slam it in again. Keep ramming me until my pussy blows.
I felt my orgasm building as I leaned my head back and began nibbling pretty boy's ear. Then all of a sudden it did hit, with the force of a jetliner smacking into a skyscraper. It made my jaws clamp and I bit down on pretty boy's ear, nearly slicing a piece out of it.
"Hey, what the fuck!" pretty boy screamed as his cock disengaged and I nearly fell forward.
"You fucking bitch!" he yelled, grabbing his bloody ear with one hand and pouncing toward me, his other meaty hand forming a fist.
But he wasn't fast enough to hit me -- Cat was at him at once, spraying him full in the face with the Mace.
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"Get off of her, you motherfucker!" she yelled.
Pretty boy screamed again and got caught up in his jeans, which were down below his knees. He stumbled, landing on his back in the alley. His hands were at his eyes -- the stupid boy was only making his misery worse.
I got back on my feet and looked at the helpless, squirming male in front of me, his now-soft cock flapping around above his crotch, cum still trickling from it. Then I kicked him as hard as I could in the balls. He screamed again and cluthced at himself.
"I told you I was Poison," I said as The Crew and I turned our backs on him and left the alley. .
