Consequential Doping

At 11pm, after doing a few laps of my own at the then-closed condominium pool, it was time to put the security guards’, whom I have been really good friends with, hearts at ease. On this day of every week, I would hold swimming classes before spending up to an hour alone in the pool. However, during the course of this particular lesson, an especially noisy group of teenagers at the BBQ pit had affected me quite a bit, though there were only lessons to be taught when bodies were being flung into the waters.

Making my way into the male shower rooms, I was tuned out to my surrounding until I heard noises come from a cubicle. It seemed that the door at the furthest end, which I thought was just closed because of a rigid hinge, was occupied. The lack of clothes or towels would mean that he was a resident of the estate. Perhaps, he had brought his shorts into the shower.

Without thinking too much, I continued with my business and it was when I turned on the shower tap, that I heard a cry for help.

‘Hey! Can you help me?’

A female voice in the male changing room? Still, there wasn’t anyone else she needed to hide from. I was in my cubicle then.

(I replied) ‘There’s no one out here. Feel free to leave.’

‘I CAN’T! I don’t have any clothes.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘My friends left me here.’

Whoever they were, they must still be around. I quickly washed myself up and put my clothes on, before knocking on the closed door. From where I stood outside, I could see the heels of her feet pushing against the door, pulling away only when I went close to her.

On the floor sat a girl, with long, brown hair curled at the ends, possessing a figure I remembered caught my eyes when I took a glance of the kids playing by the pool. With her hands covering her chest and groin, I threw my wet towel over her before trying to help her up. Not only were her legs too weak to support her, she was showing signs of withdrawals.

‘Are you on some kind of drug?’

‘No? I think they slipped something in my drink. I’m.. Incredibly wet.’

‘Duh. You are drenched!’

‘No.. Not there.’

Right there, I realised what she was talking about and helped her to the bench anyway, to put one of my shirt on her to hide her indecency. Just before I could find the extra pair of shorts I remembered packing, she had already progressed to the stage where she touched herself with her legs spread wide open.

To anyone else, it might seem like she was masturbating furiously, but at that close proximity, I could tell that it was an itch she was trying to get relieved. A middle finger was digging so deeply, that sent her moaning at the same time sighing in comfort.

‘Can you help me? Please? I can’t reach far enough.’

‘What? Serious? I think you should call an ambulance or something.’

‘No no! You can’t! They.. Umm.. The group of us.. Kind of took some drugs earlier. It was just a stupid dare. Please!’

She grabbed my hand and brought it to her pussy, drenched and dripping through the narrow gaps of the wooden bench. Two of my fingers were pushed into her vagina and I went on my knees to do what she asked, since I was already this ‘deep’.

Following her suggestions, the wrist-twist motion turned out to do the job best, giving her minutes-long satisfaction at each try. I ended up getting as hard as wood listening to her expressive, sexual voice and going as fast/ deep as I could to keep her happy.

(She said) ‘I’m sorry to have involved you in this. You must be so tired.’

‘I’m fine. Is it going away?’

‘I am afraid not. I think I’m wetter than before. I’m so sorry.’

At 12am when my watch beeped, she stopped me and helped me onto my feet. Whatever we have done, this must be as far as she allowed me to go. Be it guilt or impatience, the intense situation died down when she squeezed my wrists really tight.

‘Can I trouble you again?’

‘What more can I do?’

Eight finger dug into my waistline and lowered my shorts (along with my underwear) to the floor. Her mouth went over my cock and began sucking on it with vigour, using mere seconds to make me feel lightheaded. She used the tip of her tongue to probe at my pee hole until I was groaning, before circling at the underside of my little ‘head’.

In less than two minutes, I was harder than I have ever seen. When I regained my composure to look at her, her eyes were halfway rolled back in ecstasy, as if my pre-cum had some magical properties.

(She whispered) ‘Can you fuck me?’

‘Get up then. Can you bend over the bench?’

Immediately, she went into the standing doggy and I plunged my dick deep into her. However tight she was, I had stretched her out well and my head was spinning wildly to the overwhelming sense of pleasure. The gratifying moans told me of the ultimate scratch for that itch of hers, like brushing for the first time after a dental scaling.

My hips kept thrusting as she got more relaxed, fueling my own lust as she received what she wanted. At the five-mark into our bathroom sex, I was feeling a little heat at the tip of my penis. ‘Abrasion’ it must be, from the crazy sex we were having. Having an additional ‘pain rage’ from my genital, I went even faster to overcome it with euphoria, only that it made me more frustrated.

‘Something is happening to my dick. It’s getting hotter!’

‘I know! Keep fucking me and it will go away!’

I reached for her shoulders and pounded her really deep and fast, lasting longer than my ‘usual’ since I was partly exhausted from swimming.

After we changed to the ‘girl-on-top’ position that ended up with the both of us fucking against a wall, I was growing tired as the urge to cum was creeping into my groin.

‘I think I’m cumming. I can’t take it anymore.’

‘Cum inside me then! Flush me with your cum.’

Her legs wrapped even tighter around my hips as I slammed her against the cold tiles, dipping the full length of my shaft as deep as I could go. The magical moment finally came after another three minutes of the most tiring sex, engaging every muscle in my boner to pump that humongous amount of semen right into her vagina.

We feebly wobbled back to the bench before my legs officially gave way, making space for her to ride my spurting cock till it was too soft. Somehow, my ejaculate solved the ‘itch’ and both of us took a thirty minute, silent break in the isolated changing room even the guards do not patrol.

(She said) ‘I can’t thank you enough for that. I’m now too tired to move.’

‘Neither can I.’

About an hour after we fucked our brains out, we headed up to her place (without any pants on her) where her friends had crashed her family’s weekend home, leaving the door unlocked and wide open. None of us could had anymore energy to even pick up one rubbish.

For the rest of the night, we slept in the same bed that reeked of alcohol, waking up no less than two times to ‘re-inject’ my man-made, biological ‘ointment’ inside her. Who could have slept with an itch that cause either a wet pussy, or raging boner right?

The next day, which was my off day, was spent cleaning up her place so she could then surprise me with thank-you sex, around the now-tidied home.

Just remember to never mix drug with sex.

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