Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 102
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Bottoms in Bondage
Chapter Two
Sandra and I and Linda and Rose took the offered condoms. I chose
pink, Sandra yellow, and Rose took Red. Linda picked white, Òfor purity,Ó
she said. I tucked my condom into the waistband of my panties, as did
Linda and Rose. Sandra put her condom through the front of her dog collar.
You could not look at her without seeing it.
Without any further delay, the low throbbing of music began
emanating from the wall. Sandra, with us clustered around her, moved out
onto the dancefloor. It still looked like any other, and the women in their
body-tight cocktail dresses took to it with all the elegance of women
attending a formal party. And then there were the men. Some were
stripped down to their boxer shorts, cleverly disguised as swimsuits.
Others, the men from the city center, wore their business suits onto the
dancefloor, as if foam, like reversals of fortune, would leave them
untouched. Pretty soon everyone was gaily dancing, in pairs and groups
and threesomes. I found myself intermixed with two girls in evening
gowns, with Rose dancing nearby with two admiring men. They wore
business suits, their ties neatly pinned, their shirts starched, pinstriped
jackets spreading broadly across their shoulders. She looked quite small
and vulnerable, dancing with them in her pleasingly torn panties and bra,
wearing her neckscarf and heels. Her hoop earrings bounced as easily as
her breasts, I thought, which threatened to pop from her bra any moment.
ÒOh, my!Ó Rose announced suddenly, and her boobs bounced right out
of her top, just as I feared. Her companions strode forward and gallantly
helped her stuff herself back in. Then they danced on. A man intervened,
blocking my view, choosing me for a partner in dancing. Blushingly I
danced with him, aware of how his eyes avidly studied my breasts. I
turned finally, gave him an inviting flip of my tail, reminding him of what
else could fall off. Then I slipped into the crowd to escape him.
Balloons began spilling from the ceiling. I glanced over my shoulder.
My male pursuer, intent on following me, became ensnared amidst a clutch
of balloons that dumped down right on top of him. And then the foam
came. Big clumps, driven by fans, coming in from the walls, across the
floor, and spilling out of the ceiling behind the balloons. There were
screams of delight, laughter, as the room began literally filling with
foam. The music throbbed all around us. We were in a womb, it seemed,
being inseminated by the sperm colored foam.
Glasses tumbled to the floor, spilling half-finished cocktails. Cries
of glee went up as foam-fights erupted. People slipped and slid on the
floor if they werenÕt careful. And then my breasts popped out from my
bra, spontaneously, as I gave myself an extra vigorous wiggle in response
to the music.
But who could see? The man easing himself close to me, a new man,
very gorgeous, with a wife (or mistress) to match, could not see me. I
smiled at him, conscious of how naughty I felt with my naked boobs
bouncing away, out of sight under the bubbling foam.
ÒItÕs good clean fun, youÕve got to admit!Ó the manÕs wife smiled at
me, a mischievous look in her eyes. I could see the straps of an evening
gown on her shoulders, though the straps seemed precariously close to
falling off.
I smiled back at her, greeted the man.
ÒIÕm Gary,Ó he said, dancing easily despite the formality of a
business suit he wore. I smiled again, rubbed my bare shoulder with my
hand.
ÒA fun place to scrub up, donÕt you think?Ó I asked him. I scooped up
a handful of bubbles and blew them at him.
We danced closer. He guided his hands by memory, found my
thoroughly female hips in the foam and traced their gentle, youthful
curvature. He discovered my felt bra hanging around my waist like a belt.
ÒHmm, a very interesting belt,Ó he remarked. We exchanged glances.
I looked over at his wife, saw her straps were missing from her shoulders.
She seemed to puff up big gobs of foam from just in front of her, as if she
were tossing them up with a pair of large, unrestrained breasts. Diamonds
dangled incongruously from her ears, flashing strobe lights at me,
reflecting the colored lights beating all around us in time to the music.
She seemed truly delighted to be free of her expensive dress. I moved
closer to her, let her husband run his hands up my ribs. ÒAnd your bra, it
is very much like real flesh,Ó Gary remarked.
ÒThatÕs because it is, and my belt isnÕt,Ó I laughed. He squeezed my
twin globes. I danced on, the woman moving up next to me. Her playful
breasts bounced against me from the side. The man eased back, running
his thumbs over my risen nipples before removing his hands. I and the
woman turned to each other, face to face. Our breasts thudded into each
other, nude boobs clashing with nude boobs. I felt like some kind of jello
wrestler, exploring the preliminaries with my partner in the foam.
Hands came to my waist. GaryÕs, from behind now. He found my
bikini undies, ran his fingers along the waistband. ÒIÕm Juliette,Ó his wife
murmured, and kissed me. Her hands touched my waist, travelled round to
my pantied rear. Her fingertips scanned it, found two holes to explore. I
heard a rip in the foam and my panties felt as if theyÕd been torn open
behind me.
ÒSir, youÕd better have your condom on if your wife is going to do
that,Ó I said naughtily. I was wanton. I felt GaryÕs hands graze my ass,
pressed it boldly into his hands to discover what remained of my panties.
Flesh to flesh. Had I nothing left in behind. I could not feel any
fabric intervening. He palped my hinds, spread them. I guessed I must be
bare in back, after all.
GaryÕs helpful wife inserted her fingertips into the front of my
panties next. I looked at her, feeling the presence of her fingers
dangerously deep within the triangle of fabric covering my muff. As our
eyes studied each other she eased down my undies in front. I felt bubbles
flow in against my thighs, within them. Then a hand, cupping me, slipping
between my thighs, as her husband, his hands between my legs in back,
parted them. Offering to rub me as we danced she cupped and held the
pouting lips of my pussy. I waggled my ass, perching myself on her hand.
ÒLet me get your dress off at least!Ó I laughed. I put my hands to her
waist and yanked her cocktail dress down over her hips. I was an Indian. I
would run wild in the foam. Juliette cried happily as she felt the dress
pulled free of her vase-like hips, skitter down her legs. We were both
naked now, private dancers in the foam for her husband.
I felt something sheathed in light rubber wedge itself between my
legs. No! I thought to myself. I just wanted to play naughtily in the foam,
to dance. Gary, who had so recently pressed my legs apart, now pushed
them together, closing them over his inthrusting penis. Between my
thighs I held him now. I felt him begin to push back and forth.
ÒThis isnÕt sex, strictly speaking, is it?Ó he breathed over my
shoulder. I held his cock tight between my legs. He eased my clamping
grip a little. His wifeÕs hand reasserted itself in front, finding my pussy
again after a momentary lapse.
ÒAh, please donÕt!Ó I cried, as from behind he began to suavely
pleasure himself twixt my close-pressing thighs. In front Juliette
fingered my clit, using her finger only, lest she spread me too wide for her
husbandÕs pleasure.
ÒOh, I wish not to do this,Ó I begged, but let Juliette guide my hand
to her own pussy. In response to her, in retaliation perhaps, I rubbed her
in return.
Our moans rose up, wafting across the bubbles. But we were hardly
alone. Others, Rose no doubt, Linda even, and Sandra most certainly,
amidst many others, all strangers in the foam. Naked strangers.
It was so exciting for me, making love like this, so easy and
uninhibited in the disguising foam, that I was pealing forth an orgasmic
scream within moments. Juliette, older, took longer, but was soon
bleating happily upon my furiously rubbing hand. At last Gary, somewhere
twixt my legs, jetted into his condom. Slowly I felt him soften. He
withdrew, kissed each of my shoulders. Juliette and I parted as our
orgasms subsided. We gazed at each other, kissed once. Then I turned,
found Gary, kissed him also. Within the foam he found his wifeÕs hand
then, and they bid me adieu. We parted company, safe as weÕd been when
we met, yet much happier now.
I danced awhile longer, met another couple and shared intimacies
with them, stroking the husbandÕs naked cock until his cockhead, still
inside his condom, jetted forth his seed. Then I made my way to the
lockers along the wall. Around my wrist, held there by pink telephone
cord, was my locker key, safely tucked in a little pouch. I took it out and
unlocked my locker. Still hidden in the foam, I drew my clothes out one by
one and slipped them on.
Outside I waited for the others. There was a little juice bar, under
an awning. It had not been there earlier. Only non-alcoholic beverages
were offered. With bits of foam still clinging to me I walked up to it, my
hair tangled and damp.
Òhi!Ó a girl greeted me. A small, cheery greeting. She was not the
same girl who had served me champagne. She looked younger, perhaps 13.
Too young possibly for the festivities inside, where I guessed the
champagne girl was receiving payment from the males for all her
kindness.
ÒI came with others. I have no money,Ó I said softly, a bit guiltily.
ÒOh, drinks are always free for those who have partied,Ó the girl
replied. ÒWhat flavor would you like?Ó
ÒHave you no champagne?Ó I asked. IÕd guessed the answer already,
but asked anyway.
ÒNo, people have to drive home now,Ó the girl replied. ÒPlus IÕm too
young to sell it anyway.Ó I giggled. She caught the mischievous look in my
eye.
ÒNo problem, IÕm too young to drink it,Ó I said.
ÒMe too,Ó she smiled. I could see that in her innocence she had
nonetheless trespassed as far into the land of Adults Only as to get drunk.
A junior Drew Barrymore, perhaps.
ÒIÕll have Cherry,Ó I said softly. I felt naughty. I wanted to rip her
blouse open and present her to Gary.
ÒA delicious choice!Ó the fruit-stand girl said gaily. ÒThen, with an
innocent wink, asked, ÒAre you?Ó
ÒMostly,Ó I replied. ÒMy bottom, you know.Ó
ÒMmmm,Ó she said. ÒMe too. But I have a boyfriend and he wants me
there. Does it hurt?Ó
ÒI donÕt know,Ó I said. ÒIt sounds like it would!Ó
ÒHereÕs your cherry,Ó the girl said, handing me my drink. A glass
bottle with a slim, long straw and bits of cherry sheÕd chopped up and
sprinkled into it for me.
ÒAnd hereÕs to yours,Ó I said, lifting my glass to her in thanks before
sipping on my straw. She blushed.
ÒNot for long, IÕm afraid.Ó I turned away, into the night, strolling
along the sidewalk under the canopied promenade. People were coming out
of the club, cars were pulling up to take them away. The night was warm.
My drink was icy, sweet.
A hand tapped upon my shoulder. Surprised, I turned. My mouth in a
little O of wonder. Alexis had emerged from the shadows behind me. She
stood frankly before me now, in her same slinky dress, though it had
obviously come off at some point and been trampled in the foam dance.
SheÕd slipped back into it now, looked like some delicious whore waiting
to go home. Bits of foam clung to her wrinkled dress. Her hair was
mussed like mine.
ÒYou give a nice party,Ó I smiled sweetly.
ÒOh, it is nothing,Ó she said dismissively. ÒIt pays the bills, thatÕs
all.Ó Her eyes scanned me approvingly. Standing in my little tee with my
big teenage breasts bulging against the fabric, my nipples rising again as I
felt the excitement of my vulnerability before her. She was Dracula, or
DraculaÕs wife, come from the grave to get me, I thought. A beautiful
Vampire. I might interview her, discover her secrets.
She saw the admiration in my gaze as I looked at her perfect face,
her voluptuous body. And then her eyes. Soft, caring eyes. But there was
a glint of steel in them too, as if she were never denied anything.
ÒI give private parties,Ó she offered. ÒA sweet young girl like
yourself would be most welcome.Ó
ÒI-IÕll think about it,Ó I lied. I wanted to go, out of simple curiosity,
if nothing else. When would I meet such a woman again? She gave me free
cherry drinks even when she didnÕt know me, and free champagne too. To
me and everyone. What gifts awaited a guest at her private parties?
ÒWhat is there to think about?Ó she asked. ÒYou are Lisa. Lisa
Beckworth. Did you leave your mommie because you wanted to?Ó
ÒYes,Ó I breathed. She knew me! I glanced instinctively over my
shoulder. Were the police coming? Was I to be sent back to that awful
religious school where mom sent me, with its strange celibate, feminist
nuns? More lectures on why women should be admitted into the
priesthood? Fuck the priesthood. I did not like swearing, but I hated
those lectures. And we were made to write letters to the pope supporting
female priests, and give lists of reasons from Papal Encyclicals and the
Bible.
ÒI cannot come,Ó I said softly, lowered my eyes. I had not the
courage.
ÒYou came already this evening, did you not?Ó In the foam, she
meant, I guessed. Few probably escaped the mass grope in the foam
without some kind of pleasure being induced. Forcibly, or voluntarily.
ÒI cannot come,Ó I said again. I looked up at her with sad eyes,
almost begging her to make me find a way.
ZINE REVIEWS
by holy joe
Playboy catalogue, Fall 1996. Phone: 1-800-423-9494
Review: Everyone knows the FrederickÕs of Hollywood catalogue is
fun to look at, but what about PlayboyÕs catalogue? Well, its quality has
varied over the years. For awhile they were actually putting a centerfold
in the middle of their catalogue, but often the model was shitty-looking
and she always wore clothes.
In this issue the centerfold is gone. However, this issue has a
spectacular cover. (Of a girl bending over, in case you were wondering.)
Inside, my all-time favorite (modern) Playmate is posing in all kinds of
very sexy clothing. I canÕt actually remember her name, but I do remember
her delightful face and her (very) delightful bosoms! See her posing in a
black leather fishnet bra and panties. See her posing in a blue lace thong
teddy. And see her posing in (of course!) a sheer white baby doll. There
are also some other very hot Playmates in this issue, and they are wearing
very hot lingerie too!
As you know, the girl can make the clothes or the clothes can make
the girl. All of these Playmates have, I think, been in previous catalogues,
but this Fall issue is the first one to have a) the right girl in b) the right
clothes, in c) an interestingly posed photo. Ralph Reed may think any
photo of a nude female looks terrific, but it actually takes a combination
of all three factors to make for stimulating reading.
If you call and order the Playboy catalogue for free, you will have a
major worry on your hands. Will the Postman intentionally or
unintentionally scrape, tear, or wreck this issueÕs beautiful cover? Mine
actually arrived unscathed, but I have gotten past issues where it looked
as if some pissed off feminist had fucked up the cover just to ruin my day.
If you order something from Playboy, however, youÕll get another
catalogue (hopefully the Fall issue!) packed safely inside your order.
I highly recommend this Fall issue of the Playboy catalogue. And,
since itÕs free, you have no reason not to enjoy its delicious contents.
Happy reading!
Oh, yes. I know some of the Playmates may have had trouble
struggling into the intimate wear in this issue of the Playboy catalogue.
Remember, girls: we guys are always Ôon handÕ to help you! In fact, I
myself have set up a special service. ItÕs called the Holy Joe Intimate
Wear Helpful Hand Service. If you ever need any help putting on long
stockings, long leather boots, or tying yourself into a tight corset, please
call! Just call Woodbridge Elementary in Florida. I live in the dumpster
out back and I told the maintenance man who works at the school to let me
know if any Playboy Playmates ever call for me. IÕll catch the next bus to
wherever you are. IÕm always ready to help a Playmate into (or out of) her
clothes!
NOTES from holy joe
I found a few little items that didnÕt really fit in anywhere, but I
figured you might miss them if I didnÕt mention them:
1. Penthouse, October 1996, pg. 28: This looks like a dopey article,
but when you read it youÕll find itÕs very interesting and erotic. ÒYou donÕt
just let it shoot out,Ó is my favorite line. I think females will especially
enjoy reading this article (itÕs about the male penis); but even ordinary
guys will probably find it fascinating, especially since itÕs written by a
woman!
2. Penthouse, October 1996, pg. 130: What a hot comic! Usually
comics are no big deal to me, but when I saw this bare-assed, barefoot
girl in a t-shirt (not to mention handcuffs!) I quickly decided this was the
best item in this entire issue!
3. Penthouse, October 1996, pgs. 104-105: As a rule, I hate seeing
paper in a porno magazine wasted on one-panel cartoon gags. But these
cartoons, featuring animals, are very good.
4. Playboy, October 1996: YouÕll be pleased to note that I permitted
my girlfriend to pose as the centerfold in this monthÕs issue of Playboy.
AND IN THE END...
ÒLAWÓ IN AMERICA
ÒSheÕs following a political agenda in accordance with her personal
zeal.Ó - Penthouse (on Janet Reno), October 1996, pg. 6
AND THE RESULT IS...
ÒThe United States now imprisons a larger percentage of its
population than any other nation in the world.Ó - Penthouse, October 1996,
pg. 170
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-END OF 102 EMISSION