A Passion Play Ch. 01

As I trundled off with my arms completely full of flowers she called after me, "you know the weather down here so fine."

Huhh?

The flowers were distributed evenly amongst the girls. I didn't have vases, but I did manage to tie them into bundles and put their names on little makeshift cards. I was proud of myself for being such a lunatic romantic.

Collectively, the girls liked the gesture. I couldn't believe it. A couple of flowers and they all warmed up to me.

After a couple of weeks I settled in, got serious about the course work and developed a fairly responsible work and study hard -- party hard routine.

The household atmosphere was generally one giant comedy festival, thanks mainly to Angela. We were all laughing the whole time, even if Angela wasn't there. Everyone was nice. No one was being an asshole. Ana, Angela and I had the bedrooms in the basement. The other three were upstairs in nice, well lit rooms. Christa's of course was the largest room because she was the oldest resident, this being her third year there. Christa Harris was the oldest of all of us at twenty four. We could even laugh about the sleeping arrangements. Anyway you want to cut it, the fat girl, the brown girl and the guy, were stuck in the basement while the three princesses were all upstairs. And don't use our bathroom please and thank you.

Another aspect of those early days was a bit of a sexual standoffishness. It wasn't the panty and bra show I was expecting, let alone a free flow of sex. There was far too much modesty for my liking. I guess to a degree I was cramping their style. But it was ok, all-in-all I felt very comfortable there.

As directed, I didn't have my nerd or stoner friends over to play video games and such. Sure, we all had our own circles of friends outside the house. Bubbles would have 'dates' come over to pick her up and drop her off and occasionally sleep the night. Christa had a steady boyfriend 'Wayne' but as she had her own car, he'd rarely come by. I never did lay my eyes on him. And I never did see Ana, Church Girl or Angela go out on an actual date. For that matter neither did I. We all just tended to stick together in-house.

The girls did like to party, that's for sure. Christa was the worst (or the best), when she was around with a close second by Angela. Church Girl, though, would become entirely different when she had a couple of drinks in her, she would get a pretty racy comment in here and there. I liked that.

Ana could party too and get right into it. I'd never seen her get drunk and silly though.

When Bubbles was there and we all had a couple of drinks, I had to consciously try to keep my lecherous eyes off of her sweet little ass. But then I'd be glancing at the other girls too given the opportunity. Not fat Angela though.

I did notice that they'd be checking me out too, on occasion.

Christa, even with her so called boyfriend, I swear I'd see her giving me side glances sometimes, with that steely glare of hers. I could never figure out what Christa was thinking. She was a hard driven, determined girl. She'd look you straight in the eye and hone into the heart of whatever matter was being discussed, right away. No bullshit with that woman. And I wouldn't want to cross her either.

I wouldn't have minded fucking her though.

It was a Friday night about two months after I moved in when I was being dropped off by a cab after drinking in a pub with Ron and a couple lads for that last four hours. It was about 10:30 and I needed to be up at 7:00 the next morning. I remember dying to piss while in the cab and when I got to the house, I threw money at the cab-driver and bolted while undoing my belt ready to piss.

I made my way up the driveway and to the side of the house to pee. I noticed that there was a party going on inside. I heard laughter, female laughter. Between the houses I found a suitable target, an old four by eight sheet of plywood that had been leaning up against the house for obviously some time. I painted that plywood with a glorious inebriated piss, swinging my hips side to side. Girls can't do this I thought with a laugh. I could still hear them inside.

'I think I'll join them' I thought to myself with my brilliant drunk mind, now relieved of the bladder strain. 'I'll just grab a beer', although that was probably the last thing I needed then, 'and join the party'.

"Joey!" "Ha-ha!" "Joey's here". More laughter.

It was only the four of them. Ana wasn't there. It looked like fun. I didn't need to be on my best behavior.

They were sitting in the living room at the front of the house with empty beer cans and those Bacardi Breezer orange fruit thingys and a good part of a bottle of Grey Goose gone. There were empty pizza boxes around them and chips and salsa on the coffee table. They were a drunken mess, giggling about who knows what. I made my way to the kitchen.

From the fridge I called back into the living room, "Does anybody want anything to eat......?"

"We want to eat you!" Laughter.

"........or drink?"

"Ya come on over here we're gonna eat you alive," Angela, of course. More laughter.

"And take your shirt off," it might have been Christa.

"And your pants," definitely Angela.

I don't know what it was that got into me. Something to do with having a bunch of beers already and a half a joint, something to do with the fact that Ana wasn't there, and I guess something to do with the fact that I'd been there a couple of months now and hadn't been laid for like half a year.

I whipped my shirt off as I came into the living room with my beer. "Yeah! Whoohoo" "Take it all off!" More laughter. They were howling. This was going to be so much fun. I leaned against the dining room table and kicked my shoes off, my socks, then in one go my pants and underwear. Now they were screaming in laughter. Naked, I raised my arms above my head and shouted, "It's snack time ladies!" Bubbles was on her back on the couch kicking in the air while gasping. Christa was so red she looked like she was having a baby. Angela's belly was heaving up and down. Church Girl was having a fit howling.

"What the hell's going on here?"

It was Ana's Birmingham accent. She was right behind me. I was busted. Naked and busted in front of Ana.

I was in shock. I started to panic. She must have just come up the steps from the downstairs bathroom. Just then I noticed there is obviously a space on the couch and a half drunk orangy thing in front. How could I have been so stupid?

The others were still laughing. Angela yelled back to Ana, "We're going to eat Joey!" to peels of laughter.

"Cool!" Ana replied, as she walked past me, smiling while looking down and checking my goods.

Cool? Did she say cool? She did, holy shit!

"Ok ladies, clear off the table." I lay down on the coffee table on my back. "Pass me the chips," I said. They handed the bowl to me and I dumped all of them onto my chest, to shrieks of delight. "Pass me the salsa!" They did. I dumped that all over my cock and balls and pubic hair. "Eat away girls!!!!"

There was stunned silence.

Christa broke the silence, "Oooh - I think I'll have chip." She picked up a chip off my chest and the very slowly dragged it along the length of my cock, from the base to the very tip of my foreskin. Scooping up a bit of salsa, she popped the chip in her mouth and cooed, "Mmmm... that's yummy."

Instantly there were ten hands grabbing chips, dragging along the length of my cock and scooping up salsa. They were laughing away again.

"Eww - I got a pube!" Laughter. It was hilarious.

Suddenly the chips were gone and I was hard as a rock. Silence fell again.

Church Girl -- Church Girl!!! -- grabbed my cock held it straight up into the air and said, "There's still salsa left," and put my cock into her mouth sucking up whatever salsa was on it. "Ssssssssssssspicy," she said smiling to the others.

At that point I was moments away from squirting.

They all took turns tasting the 'salsa' on my cock. Even Ana.

Finally Christa grabbed my cock, pointed strait up and started power jerking me. "Cum, cum, cum!" they all started chanting "Come on do it Joey". Church Girl was kissing me softly on my lips. Someone was pinching my nipples. My hips were twisting. I was spazzing out. I lasted about eight more jerks and then shot up at least two feet in the air.

"Oooooohh..." was their collective reaction.

Squirt.

"Ahhhhh..."

Squirt.

"Ohhhh..."

It's was like they were watching fireworks. I just kept coming. Christa's hand and my chest were covered in semen.

Silence again.

Angela dipped a finger into the cum on my chest, rubbed it around then dragged it into the last remaining salsa nestled in my pubes, then slipped the finger into her mouth licking it clean and pulling it out of her mouth with an audible pop sound. "Nice," she cooed.

"Oohhh gross!" "Yuuukkk," was the collective response from the other four. They stood up and ran out of the room like little children, laughing in hysterics, leaving Angela and I alone.

I yelled after them, "Did you enjoy the snack ladies?"

I looked at Angela, all one hundred and eighty pounds of her beamed back at me. What the hell did I just do? I got up too and headed for my room.

I met Ana as she was coming back with a paper towel roll for me. I jolted all of a sudden. Seeing her made me panic. As she handed the paper towels to me I stammered out, "I-I'm sorry."

"For what?"

Taking a deep breath, "For making a fool of myself. Ana, I don't want this...."

"Nonsense," she cut me off. "We were having fun. You obviously enjoyed yourself," she said poking my shoulder. "Joey, don't be sure a prude," she leaned into my ear and whispered, "I knew you had a nice cock."

I was in total shock and I could feel my face flush as I walked away trying to stop the cum from dripping off my shoulders. I got straight into the shower. With the water blasting off my face all I could think was what the hell just happened? Things were going to be different now.

And they were.

I certainly had no modesty left. Which I guess rubbed off on them a little too. Slowly the bra and panty show started. Floppy braless t-shirts at the breakfast table were a real treat. Of course I gave them every opportunity to feast their eyes on me, without being too vulgar about it. For example, I could now without second thought walk to the bathroom first thing in the morning in just my underwear with my piss hard-on still in place. I think they liked that. Angela sure did. Of course I could have been totally wrong about that. Still, I never heard one complaint.

One of the issues I was having was with my room. It was always stuffy. I needed to keep the door cracked open to be able to get some air. And once the heating season and the furnace came on next to my room, what little air I did get through the tiny vent was a like a hundred degrees. It seemed that I was going to suffocate and melt. The solution was to keep my door wide open, and as I preferred to sleep in the nude, Ana and especially Angela had plenty of opportunity look into my room and say, "Oh high Joey," or "good morning." It was a bit unnerving at times.

Angela was more than just hinting that she would like get to... know me better. Church Girl too, but not as much as Angela.

Bubbles, unfortunately not at all.

With Christa, I just couldn't tell. She had her boyfriend but I'd still catch her checking out my butt, or my arms and shoulders.

It was in early November on a Sunday morning after breakfast, we were all there, even Church Girl. We were cleaning up and doing laundry and stuff like that and all dressed in sweat pants and t-shirts and the like. Three of them were braless, not Ana and thankfully not Angela. I don't know how the conversation started but Bubbles and Church Girl were insisting that Christa was by far the most 'fit' person in the house.

I took exception to that.

"Oh no, you don't understand. She runs the fitness class," Bubbles explained.

"I don't care if she runs the Boston Marathon every day. She's not more 'fit' than I am."

"Then why don't you take my class, we'll see how fit you really are," Christa startled me. I hadn't realized she had just walked into the kitchen.

"I'm not taking your friggin' class. I don't need to. I know I'm every bit as fit as you are. Probably more!"

"Bullshit."

"Christa, I'm stronger than you, I can run faster than you and I'm probably more flexible than you," I really doubted that last part.

"Bullshit," she scowled, "just because you think you can run faster than me, doesn't make you more fit. Maybe you can run faster and lift more weight than me, but that doesn't make you more fit." Her eyes were narrowing, the thin eyebrows became a straight line, she was clearly pissed. "Fitness," she continued with a controlled grimaced smile, "is all about muscle tone, core strength, stamina and endurance. You're in good shape I'll give you that Joey, but you are nowhere as fit as me."

"Bullshit" I said tersely. And what the hell is the difference between stamina and endurance I thought.

Our voices had been getting a little heated and now. All six of us were crammed into the little kitchen or just inside the doorway.

I don't know what came over me but I was pissed with this affront. Little miss princess bitch was telling me that she's better than me. Screw you lady - I thought. I don't care how old she was or what shape she was in, I was not about to get humiliated by Christa. Maybe it was a testosterone thing.

Or maybe it was an estrogen thing for her because she stuck a finger into my face and said "If you think you are in better shape than me...more fit...then prove it asshole."

Asshole? Those were fighting words.

The other girls were in a stunned silence. Those were the sharpest words ever spoken amongst us. Our voices were raised. It wasn't pretty. My face was flushed. I was seriously pissed off. Clearly, so was Christa.

"Fine. I'll prove it," I said trying to keep some composure "I challenge you bitch," I couldn't help but let it out, "to a sit-up contest. That's core strength, don't you think?. .......Do you think you can handle it? I could feel the blood in my face. My fists were clenched in rage. I shouldn't have called her a bitch.

"What?............ If you're challenging me to a contest to see who can do more sit-ups then you are on dickhead!" Her face was red and her neck veins popping making quite the contrast to her straight brown hair pulled back into a tight pony tail.

Trying to act like an adult I took a couple of deep breaths to calm myself down, then asked in a hopefully controlled voice "Okay, how many sit-ups can you do?

"All lot" she snapped back instantly with her plucked eyebrows in a straight line, staring straight at me. "How many can you do?"

"More than you!" my voice was rising again.

"Fuck-off!" she yelled back while giving me a sharp shove, knocking me back.

I couldn't believe how she was getting really worked up about all of this. She was taking this really, really personally. The princess bitch was losing her cool. All of a sudden she was being physical.

Looking straight into her steely grey eyes I said slowly "I'll bet you that I can do more sit-ups than you."

"You're on!" she fired back. "I'll bet you a hundred bucks - dickhead!"

"I don't have any money," I said sheepishly. It was true. I was pretty well broke.

"Well what are you going to bet then loser?" her face was all red. The veins on her neck were about to burst again.

I gulped, then thought for a moment.

"Sexual favors," I said bravely.

Her grey eyes went all wide. Like saucers. Then after a few seconds her eyes narrowed up again into hawk-like, steely mode, eyebrows in a line. She leaned into me and said, "Ok, you're on".

My heart skipped a couple of beats. Really? Did I hear that right? I couldn't believe it.

"If I do more sit-ups than you," she growled in a low voice, "then you eat me."

There was stunned silence in the kitchen.

I responded immediately, "Fine, and if I win, you blow me."

She stared at me. Her face was hard.

"No it's not the same," she said coolly.

"What are you talking about?" I was trying.

"It's not the same. If you beat me at sit-ups I'll give you a hand-job. That's all you get."

She was of course right. It's not the same. This was a win-win situation for me. It couldn't be more delicious. I wasn't going to argue. Too much.

"Ok fine, but I get to cum on your tits," I said, trying to keep a dead-pan face.

She paused for a moment and said "Ok, you're on asshole."

Angela started giggling, then all the rest joined in. It was a pretty absurd situation.

I said, "Wait a minute.....how may sit-ups do I need to beat you by to get a blow-job?"

Christa glared at me. Her eyes narrowed, her eyebrows pinched into a straight line again.

"Let's continue this in the living room," she said. We all shuffled out of the kitchen like a small school of fish. No one wanted to miss a nanosecond of this.

They all sat down except me and Christa. She was too animated to sit down. So was I. Pointing a finger at me and her eyes focused like a laser on me she said, "Ok, here's the deal. When I beat you by twenty-five sit-ups you are going to eat my pussy. When I beat you by fifty you are going to eat me twice. And If I beat you by a hundred and fifty, you eat me six times."

"How about my blow jo...."

"Shut-up and listen dickhead."

"When you eat me there's no satisfaction for you. You lick my pussy. You do exactly as I tell you to do. If I choose to have multiple orgasms, that's my choice. You just do as you are told. And when I tell you that you're are finished, I'll say thank you and fuck off. Do you understand?"

Up until then I hadn't realized just how much of a bitch she really was. "Ya great" I answered, "but what if I win?"

"Okay, how about if you beat me by twenty five sit-ups you get a hand job. If you beat me by fifty...I'll suck your cock."

Wow...without any effort I was on a roll.

"And swallow," I added. Hopefully.

"No. I don't swallow."

"Then I get to cum on your tits."

"Fine," she said rolling her eyes.

"How many sit-ups do I need to do to get you to swallow?" I was pressing now.

"Fuck you. Another twenty five" she said dismissively.

I was definitely on a roll. Everyone else was sitting in stunned silence.

"How many sit-ups do I need to do to fuck you?"

Now the laughter started. Angela first, of course.

We settled on a hundred. But Christa added, "But it's not cumulative. It's not like you get a hand job at twenty-five, a blow-job at fifty and a fuck at a hundred. You get one or the other. And that's it!"

"I on the other hand," she continued with an almost musical tone in her voice "get oral sex on demand, from you, numerous times -- once for every twenty five sit ups. And you know what? I'm not going to give a rat's ass if I'm showered, menstruating or I've just taken a shit. You are going to be servicing me. With no satisfaction to you. Do you understand?"

I gulped unable to speak. This was too good to be true.

"Give your head a shake Joey," she went on, "do you even work-out?

"I..I..do karate." I answered. My mind wasn't working straight.

"Ohh! Big fucking deal! He does karate. How long have you been doing it? What color belt do you have? I'm so scared Joey," she said pretending to tremble.

"Belt color doesn't matter," I answered meekly while trying to compose myself, "it's all about staying in shape."

There were peels of laughter from all the rest. Except Ana. Ana had a neutral face.

"So what belt do you have? Christa continued, pushing a finger into my chest, "A white belt?,..oh no, I bet you're higher than that, I'll bet you have ......a yellow belt! ."