A mirthful little short story
“Who the fuck do you think I am, Snow-fuckin’-White?”
As usual, that got everyone laughing. So that you know, the joke was at the moment I was surrounded by a handful of dwarfs. Okay, political correctness demanded I use ‘little people’ or some such drivel, but these guys didn’t care what I called them, though the word ‘midget’ as you can imagine did evoke hostility.
Charlie had put his empty on the bar and said, “Quick, another round,” followed by his buddies doing the same, and that’s what I had responded to with my Snow White retort.
That’s what they occasionally called me in jest—Snow White. I tended bar at their little (okay, pardon me) club. My light complexion, contrasting with my short-cropped, black hair made the reference a natural one. They paid me well for this little (okay, now stop it) gig, in which I utilized my mixology skills to keep the guys happy.
No, not a single one was called Happy. Neither was there a Sleepy or a Dopey, though they did call the oldest dude “Doc.” My name was Marguerite, and everyone called me Maggie when they weren’t calling me Snow White.
I popped the caps off several bottles and passed them around before I mixed a Manhattan for Doc. He mumbled something akin to a thank you before going back to his newspaper, not wanting to be disturbed.
The club was a rather interesting place. The guys were all pretty cool and loads of fun to be with. I guess if you’re a non-proportional dwarf as these men were, you needed a place to get away from the cruelty of others. Of course, that didn’t mean they couldn’t tease me.
“Hey Maggie, I hear you broke up with that loser Bob,” Charlie said. “Rumor has it the dude should’ve been one of us since he was so damned small where it counts.” Greg and Billy laughed right along with their pal.
“Yeah, and now I get to hear all your silly boasting about where you guys ARE non-proportional, right?”
“You got it!” Greg shouted, followed by Charlie’s “Here, here!”
After the joking subsided, I had to admit they were right about Bob. His dick was ridiculously small, and thinking about it made me laugh. The boys wanted to know what had been so funny, but I kept that to myself.
When Charlie headed out back, I assumed it was to use the can. I didn’t think anything of it as I too went out back a little later to get a case of beer to put on ice. As I passed the open bathroom door, I was surprised to see Charlie stepping out of the shower. I should have respected his privacy and kept walking, but my eyes were drawn to him. After all, I’d never seen a dwarf naked before now. Naively, I pictured all little people as being short and fat. Charlie may have been short, but he wasn’t fat. His legs were big around and very muscular, as were his arms. His ass was a tight sight. What really made an impression was that his cock was the circumference of a Foster’s beer can. Sweet Jesus, that thing sure was impressive even in its dormant state.
He caught me staring. “Dammit, Maggie, you must be hard up to be checking me out,” he said with a chuckle. He toweled off as I kept looking, and he kept talking. “Maybe we were right about your boyfriend not being big enough to satisfy you,” he said, smiling. He gave his cock a wiggle and added, “Maybe this is what you need.”
I answered reflexively, “You wish,” but I definitely needed something, and that cock of his looked mighty fine. Horny and available: that was me.
Bless him, he didn’t press the issue, probably seeing through my bluff to my need. “It’s okay, Maggie, I’m sorry for bringing Bob up like that. Why don’t you have a drink on us while I get dressed?”
I popped the cap off a bottle and downed the beer in a few swallows. Charlie saw that and offered me another. After a third bottle, I sat with Charlie, Greg and Billy and poured out all my frustrations to them. When I said, “Why can’t I seem to find the right man?” Greg and Billy were cautious enough not to say anything.
Charlie, on the other hand, was quick with an arm and a comment. “There, there, maybe you’ve had the right men in front of you all along.”
I looked at him as I tilted back my fourth beer, remembering what I saw outside the shower stall and shivered. The guys were quick to react to my frisson. Charlie’s arm around me tightened as he said, “You’re an incredible woman, Maggie, and I’d love for you to be my Snow White.”
Charlie leaned closer and before I knew it we were kissing. Until the other two guys started feeling me up did what Charlie said register with me. He said the right “men” in front of me, not man.
I was drunk, and I was about to be gang-banged by three dwarfs. I abandoned any restraint to my arousal and went with it. I was feeling bawdy, and I was going to get fucked, plain and simple. Six pudgy hands pawed me from head to toe, though a couple places on my body drew extra attention. During our little foreplay, Doc glanced over, harrumphed, and went back to his paper, though not before grumbling “Did anyone think to lock the damned door?”
Greg scrambled to do so, but not before I noticed the sublime bulge in his pants.
Charlie said, “Let’s go out back to the cot.”
Jimmy, said, “I’ll go make sure it’s clean. He hustled off, his short meaty legs pounding the floor, as Charlie helped me from my chair. I nearly swooned, but he kept me upright with a herculean effort and helped me toward a back room of the club. Jimmy had straightened things up somewhat by the time we got there, and I fell to the bed, which as Charlie had indicated wasn’t much more than a glorified camp cot. Charlie helped me out of my clothes as Jimmy, and then Greg, when he joined us, got out of theirs.
Both of those guys weren’t in the same league as Charlie. Like any food before a starving man, their erections were impressive enough. As Charlie undressed, the other two went at me, one licking while the other fondled and kissed my aching breasts.
Jimmy’s (?) tongue was performing wonders, and if my clit could talk it would be saying “More…more…I want more!” Since my clit couldn’t talk, it was left up to my vocal chords to purr like a kitten in response. When Charlie supplanted the little gentleman who had been giving me cunnilingus, I glanced up to see an erection of biblical proportions. Yes, a Foster’s beer can for sure.
Jimmy and Greg congregated around me like worshipers at an altar, as Charlie lifted my legs high and prepared to enter me. “Oh, Maggie, this moment’s been one I’d dreamed of for a longgggggggg time,” he crooned.
Charlie placed the head of his cock at my opening and pushed a little. Any more and I would’ve screamed. I was torn between the immediate concern for my wellbeing, and the possible pleasant outcome of being reamed with so large a reamer. Perhaps “torn” was the right word to describe my dilemma, seeing that it might be what happens to my poor, vulnerable vulva.
He whispered what sounded like “…Gentle…” as he pushed in a little bit more. With Greg on one side of me and Jimmy on the other, both fondling and kissing me all over, Charlie slid further into me, and I gasped.
“No…no…yes…noooo,” I moaned, confused and suddenly scared of this new, massive feeling of utter cramming of my vagina.
Charlie eased in a little more, and all of a sudden it was as if this filling was a natural thing for my insides. I certainly was well lubricated, so I must have simply relaxed and stopped worrying about what his girth might do to me. He felt my relaxing too, for he eased himself in to the hilt and began a slow and steady rhythm of thrusts. I was getting fucked by a tree trunk and it felt marvelous!
“Maggie, Maggie, Maggie…” he groaned repeatedly as he pounded into me, my legs in the air, ankles higher than his head. He clutched my upraised legs to him, lifting my ass slightly off the bed. He stretched me with every thrust, with every nerve ending from my clitoris to my g-spot rubbed raw and on fire.
At first, Jimmy and Greg probably thought they would have sloppy seconds; instead they were so turned on by watching me get laid by their buddy they began to stroke themselves feverishly.
I groaned “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh Goddddddddddddd,” twice, as a gigantic orgasmic wave washed over and through me, quaking my insides as much as Charlie’s huge cock did.
“Hot damn! I’m gonna cum!” Charlie exclaimed as he pulled out and held his cock over my shaved pubis.
“Me too,” I heard one of the others proclaim, just as three jets of hot jism met and splashed in the stratosphere somewhere over my belly. Jet after jet of cum cascaded over me as these guys kept shooting. They must have been saving that up for a while, I hazily thought.
They helped me into the shower, where Charlie joined me, washing the remnants of our sex from my still trembling body.
“You okay?” he asked. “I didn’t hurt you did I?”
“No, of course not. You were a little darling,” I said.
“I hope that “little” reference wasn’t a slur,” he said with a chuckle, “or I’ll have to punish you.”
I smiled too. “Punish me? You mean like fuck me again?”
“Will I have that opportunity Maggie? I don’t want this to be a one-shot deal. You’re more of a woman than I deserve, but I’ve always liked you, and want you, if you want me in return.”
My turn to chuckle, “Was that ‘more of a woman’ thing a slur?”
He laughed, then I laughed and we nearly fell out of the shower stall. He held me tightly before I bent down and kissed him. When we came out and walked back to where the bed was to get our clothes, Jimmy and Greg were there, still naked, and still stroking their pudgy cocks in anticipation of more action.
I said, “I hate to disappoint you two, but I’m Charlie’s girl now, so put those things away before someone gets hurt.”
They laughed and began to dress, but not before Greg turned to his pal and said, “Fuckin’ Charlie get’s all the girls.” I didn’t know what possessed me, but I looked at Charlie, who somehow knew what I was thinking and nodded an assent. I turned to his buddies and said, “Okay, I changed my mind. Let’s do it.”
Three dwarfs had their way with me, filling every hole (and I mean that, though Charlie didn’t get my ass yet—my God, that would take some doing) until cum was filling those holes to overflow.
While Charlie pounded his last couple of thrusts before cumming, one of the others began whistling. I knew THAT tune, I thought. What Snow White did with seven was beyond me, but three was just right for this girl, orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.
From the club’s main room we heard Doc holler, “Will you stop fucking around back there and get me another drink!?!”
I tried not to write this in any offensive manner, but if I failed and offended anyone, I apologize. A while ago I read “The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty,” written by Anne Rice under a pseudonym, and found it unsexy and quite boring, its BDSM theme not appealing to me at all. I figured if she can skewer a classic Disney-esque fairytale, so could I.
“Whistle while we work…….”
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