So, I showed up at ShyAnne's shack in Pittsburg last Friday afternoon.

I rang th e doorbell, but all I heard from inside was a woman's voice screaming and yellin g, and children screaming and yelling back. I rang the bell a few more times unt il I finally heard the argument come to a halt as someone screamed "Shut the fuc k up! I gotta get the door!" The house boomed with plodding footsteps, and sudde nly, I sawthe bloated, broad, exhausted face of ShyAnne looming at the screen do or, a mangled cigarette clenched in her teeth. She looked me up and down for a m oment, and then asked: "The fuck you want?" "Uh, I'm your date - I'm ____ from FC." ShyAnne brightened up noticably. "Oh, hey, alright, well come on in," she offere d, kicking the screendoor open and motioning me in. Ice cubes clunked in a huge plastic mug she carried, filled with whatever alcoholic mix I smelled on her bre ath. "Sorry, hope you didn't have to wait long - I was, uh, talking to my kids." ShyAnne was wearing a long, stained and tattered red t-shirt, stretched almost to her knees; she wore capri jeans against which her flabby legs strained mighti ly. One of the knees was worn through. Her flip-flops did not match. A loud thump and crash echoed from the basement - ShyAnne stomped furiously on t he floor and screamed, "Goddamnit, knock that fucking shit off or I'm gonna come down there and KILL YOU!" ShyAnne turned to me with a slightly embarrassed smil e, muttering "Kids..." while the little ones in the basement pounded the ceiling with what I imagined to be a broom handle and screamed back, "Fuck you, Meemaw! " "So, I, ah.. so, you ready?" I said. We had planned to see an early movie, follo wed by dinner at a cute little Mexican cafe in Pittsburg. ShyAnne lit a fresh ci garette, drank deep from her huge plastic party mug. Her foul belch led into the sentence: "URRRRRP yeah, you wanna help me, like, fold some laundry first?" She said it with a laugh - I got the feeling we'd be skipping dinner and a movie, a nd going straight to the good stuff. I was afraid, very afraid. ShyAnne led me back through the house, kicking aside toys, magazines, oily engin e parts, dishes, until we got to her bedroom. Interestingly, there were two dead bolts on her bedroom door, which she swiftly unlocked. She put her shoulder into the door, heaving it open against the foot-deep layer of underwear, cigarette b utts, prescription pill bottles and burrito wrappers on the floor of her room. R ipped and battered plastic blinds admitted only a few slivers of light into the dark and musty hole that was ShyAnne's room, and I was thankful. ShyAnne ushered me in, giving my ass a drunken swat on my way in, and bolted the door behind us. She shambled over to to bare, stained mattress on the floor, fl opped down on it, and fumbled through her purse. Having found a nearly empty pil l bottle, she twisted off the lid and upended the contents - four pills of whate ver - directly into her mouth, washing them down with a final chug of her drink. Her face screwed up with the effort of swallowing, then she looked up at me, li t yet another cigarette, patted the space on the mattress next to her, and said, "I ain't gonna bite." Then she snickered in a way so tawdry, so filthy, so grac elessly lascivious that I considered bolting out the window right there and then . I don't have to go through with this.... I don't have to go through with this. .. I thought to myself. As she sat there on the mattress, swaying slightly and leering at me, I thought of ways to stall. Over in the corner was a cheap second-hand desk with a nicotin e-stained keyboard and mouse and an old, dust-covered monitor with the familiar crimson glow of FC. Tiptoeing my way through the filth matting her bedroom floor , I picked my way towards it. "So, here's the computer you post from, huh?" I co

It was the strip-club odor of feminine hyg ene spray that was badly losing its battle against feminine funk. I know this can't possibly be the case. pol luted land. her knees spread apart. lumpy tits poured forth onto her belly. I don't need no foreplay. she got down on all fours on the mattress. a dreadful foom that hearalded an equally vile smell. ShyAnne slammed the door and staggered back to me. her cigarette dangerously close to burning my chest." she said. unearthly rush of air. Her gigantic ass jiggled li ke jello. hollering that one of them had gotten dishwasher detergent in her eyes. she snickered. She didn't seem to notice ." she said. and her pendulous. swaying uneasily. she lay spread-eagle. looming above the kids in nothing but a badly overtaxed thong.there's a lot of peop le who'd love to get their hands on this thing.sen sitive penis skin? prolonging the sex? . she reached down and peeled away her thong .ShyAnne walked right up to me. and pried them off. he r hair hanging down to the ground. I nearly retch ed.she was busy pulling her greasy red t-shirt up over her head. Without passion or del iberation. but somehow it didn't sound so out-of-place in this house. and I'm drunk. I'm really fuckin' horny. Now the time had come .I looked back at her. unbuttoned her jeans. but in my memory of this. cigarette poin ted straight up from clenched lips like a miniature smokestack on some foul. cigarette dangling from her c rooked smile." she slurred." ShyAnne took my five seconds of shocked silence as a yes. ShyAnne removi ng her panties was accompanied by a low. unlocked the deatbolts and through open the door. Lo oking back at me. Her bra.uld hear the nervousness in my own voice." "Yeah. so ShyAnne played whan I imagined to be her trump card: she staggered to her feet. and said: "Come to mama. Not breaking eye contact. bellowing from the mattress at the door: "Just go wash it out or call the fuckin' neighbors! My boyfriend's here!" Honest to God. I heard here flop ba ck onto the matress . ShyAnne stubbed out her cigarette on the wall and flicked it across the room." With that. letting the woeful scrap of fabric fall around her feet. "I'd guess we got a good couple a' hours now. you know. her words starting to slur. For one blessed. "There's . Fuckin' cunts. balling t hem up and heaving them into the corner where they knocked over a half-full beer bottle. came off with a pang!. looking up into my face. hopeful moment. ShyAnne cut them off. lumbered across the room. I rarely hear a wom an used the c-word. f rom this woman. my nutsa ck went tight and cold at the word boyfriend. As I looked her over. I was busy concocting an excuse for using two condoms . regarding her breasts and flicking pieces of lint a nd food off of them. But the kids kept pounding away an d begging for attention. As I tried to discern what thread ShyAnne had been reading. She yelled something at the children. licked her lips. half coughed: "What the fuck you waitin' for? You're horny. "Best part is. yellowed and threadbare. ending with a laugh that quickly degenerated into a hac king cough. she reached down. and she me. I watched the ripples tra .when the kids banged loudly on the door . ShyAnne looked like she'd forgotten about me she puffed on her cigarette. she made her intentions plain with a sentence that was half spoken. something I couldn't make out over the horrified shrieks of the little ones as they sprinted down the hallway and o ut the back door.heh . and like some kind of perverse seismologist.

and opened my eyes . but continued snoring loudly. It happened too fast for me to do anything about it. I rolled on the condom . I almost wanted to say a silent prayer of thanksgiving and sa crifice for it. she muttered. the reality of this room hit me wi th full force . I felt ShyAnne shift a bit. disgusting. and I was using all my energy to pretend I was fucking someone else . ShyAnne uttered a couple mo re words . "God damn. dropped it on the bed in front of ShyAnne' s face (as a helpful reminder when she wakes up. and let them fal l to the floor. And now here was a fat. Those eyes were shut. my hands dug deeply into the mounds of fat on her thighs. and she made vaguely sexual noises in between coughs. the smell. and even me a little. At that point. I'm ashamed to admit it. making a horrible little moat around her body. The vomit oozed around her." Resting on her elbows. whoever. All I could think of was my shower. tied it off.I just wanted to get this over with and get fa r. But it wasn't just that. massaging my cock."I think I'm-" and then brought the bucket up to her face. I teased myself). vomit splashing out onto he r face. She didn't stir.. she was busy lighting her ne xt cigarette. I slid my cock in. spraying between my teeth and out my nose. I ripped off the condom. degenerate skank on all f ours for me. I felt her powerful waves of retches from deep inside sex for a month and a half will do that to you.never before had I felt so much allegance and grati tude for a condom. I wasn't offended . "C'mon. So.she had reached acr oss the mattress to snare a small plastic bucket. boosted by the pure depraved perversity of the situation.the spasms of her bronchial hack ing. someth ing about this sad. She was wide and sloppy. With trembling hands. Barbara Bus h. and more importantly. I got down on my knees behind ShyAnne. I pulled out just as ShyAnne collapsed onto her side. and she let out a long "ooooooh" as I entered her that trailed off into another coughing fit. unzipped. her hair. leaving skid marks on her lonely. awful spectacle had really turned me on. . who mumbled something tha t ended in "yeah. filthy. but warm and wet. her breasts. transmitted through untold pounds of fat tissue. and drags on her cigarett e. the kind you buy at the beach for your kids to make sandcastles with. but I was horny and hard as a rock ." I didn 't pay attention . then heaved forcefully into the bucket. I began to fuck her. I pulled on m y jeans and ran out of the house. wheezes. The coughs were actually kind of a nice sensation . nice clean professional women from the worl d I'd grown up in. my mom's secretary.." she beckoned again in a drunken slur. At one point. back and forth. I undid the button on my jeans. I usually d ated (or had sex with) "good" girls. who wanted me to fuck her without foreplay or so much as a proper i ntroduction.verse her flesh. atta boy. far away from there.and up came lunch. I really am drunk. the bucket tip ped over and forming a lake of puke in the mattress indentation where ShyAnne la first girlfriend. sh owering ShyAnne with chunky. It had an irresistably dirty thrill to it. and they squ eezed my cock to a truly amazing orgasm. passed out. although I know I'd hate myself later for this. She gave a little gag. awful filth. decrepit str eet as I drove away as fast as I could. splattering the mattress and walls.

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