When I saw the shiny, cylindrical air-tight vial in my letterbox, I was immediately shaken. What I had initially thought was an ‘absurdly risky request’, apparently wasn’t so, since it had appeared where he said it would. As inscribed on the rarely-seen bus ticket wrapped around it, I went straight to that block, and to the floor I deduced ‘#12-#13’.
As there was no ‘time’ indicated, I just sat at the steps, for an unnerving fifteen minutes until I heard footsteps approaching. In my mind, all sorts of worst-case-scenarios were playing on a loop. From a police raid, to gangsters, to an unwitting resident, I was almost ready to get up and leave.
Once I felt a tap on my shoulder, I put on a ‘clueless’ face and turned around, to see an equally confused girl, dressed in an old, oversized white t-shirt.
‘Do you have it?’
‘Depends on who is asking.’
Stupidly quoting the ‘standard’ line from movies, she fumbled some more on her phone before sitting herself down next to me, appearing more confident. Without saying a word more, she simply flashed a bright smile at me as she reached for my belt, undoing as much as my pants to get to my cock.
Obviously, at that level of paranoia, I was far from being ‘hard’. But she kept a cheerful expression on her face as she shifted two steps lower, went between my knees, and began sucking on my stubby cock. Sure enough, I gradually got into the mood, and she knew better to embark on the second part of her quest too.
‘Can you put some on your finger?’
By then, I no longer had to ‘act blur’ and took out the vial, unscrew the lid, placed my index fingertip securely over the opening and made one 180° flip. That well-practiced teen then came up one step, sat with her back against me, and carefully guided that powdered-finger between her legs.
At once, I felt intense wetness, followed by soft, shy quivers as she soaked up the content. Pushing my finger further into her pussy, she became limp after a while, though not too suspiciously since she was just lying (backwards) on my shoulder.
Sensing how wet she was, I began rubbing her clit and her body just swayed back and forth, for about two minutes. Right after that, she bounced onto her feet, and gave me the cheekiest grin an innocent girl could do.
She then climbed over my lap, slipped me easily into her throbbing pussy, and then put that vial into my hand again. Reapplying some on my finger, she proceeded to suck on said finger while she gyrated her hips, sliding my cock all over the insides of her pussy.
It seemed, that after the initial ‘high’, she became impossibly alert, and probably sex-starved by the way she rocked herself over my dick. Not more than five minutes later, we were in standing-doggy, pumping my meat into her convulsing pussy as she suppressed her moans by sucking on my fingers desperately.
The clueless me just obeyed her instructions and kept reapplying more and more white powder onto her clit, into her mouth, until she climaxed. Once she had her fun, she slumped onto the ground, leaned against the wall, and transferred me into her mouth.
This time, I dabbed some on my penis and let her feast on it, which she did so quite mercilessly. On my last application, I let her snort some up her nose before unleashing a full-on face-fuck, shoving my cock down her throat while watching her enjoy the drug-fueled torture.
‘Cumming!’
I blurted out the whisper and let her hands take over, to jerk me right into her open-mouth. Within seconds, I came hard and quenched her thirst with my cum, which she swallowed it in a flash. To aid her clean-up, I sprinkled some more ‘flour’ like salt bae, and she used her skilful tongue to thoroughly ‘wrapped things up’.
‘Some more straight into my mouth?’
I put one last dip of my finger between her lips and she gave me a kiss in exchange, not asking for a single speck more. After the whole thing, while she was still alert, she gave me her number, and told me to call her if I wanted more.
Emptied, deflated, but weirdly energetic, I remained at that stairwell while she took off for home – which I had a rough idea where when she took the lift up.
Just as I was basking in the confusing powers of the ‘white powder’, I received a call from ‘blocked number’. In the brief conversation, I was told to remain where I was, and wait for another person.
Once again, I was on high alert until an older lady, in mid-twenties, showed up asking if I had it. As soon as I showed her the metallic, steel vial, her face lit up. In her white, off-shoulder top and baby-blue bondage skirt, she asked where would we be doing it.
‘Where are we doing what?’
‘The photoshoot! I’m so thankful that you didn’t ask to fuck me, but just take photos.’
‘Isn’t that more.. dangerous?’
‘Compared to what most suppliers ask me to do? I’d say yours is a godsend. So where?’
‘Umm.. let’s walk around and see where?’
With a genuinely grateful, delighted smile, we set off deeper into the neighbourhood, and took ‘outdoor-sy’ photos as I incentivised her along the way. As though it wasn’t enough to just have a willing model to be photographed in compromising positions in discreet-public space, I get to work with someone (her) of a model-calibre, whom I will admit was a little too enthusiastic for my weak heart.
After an hour or so of heart-thumping photoshoot in risky places, at increasing levels of undress (until one point where she was fully naked), I was done, along with my soul, hopes, and life goals. We both had gotten all we could out of that short stint.
Before we parted ways, we returned to the block where we first met, and just like the previous girl, I gave her a final taste. What I didn’t expect was for her thank-you kiss, to ignite her misplaced sense of gratitude.
In the end, we did what I did with the girl before, feeding her vagina and her mouth with that substance while we banged our minds out. Relieving myself for the second time down her throat, she was all affectionate about how her whole night has turned out.
As we both suspected, it was really ‘attitudes’ that would either make her go ‘wild’ or ‘nay’ with whomever fueling her addiction.
‘Text me k? I’ll be happy to do all that with you again.’
Next thing I knew, I sent a ‘sample’ of the photos I took to the first girl, only for her to agree in an instant, to match that challenge – on top of sex.
A week later, five more vials arrived in my mailbox, with a postcard wishing me success. That amount, would easily last me at least three months, by how sparingly I had dispensed it.
As expected, such an endeavour was not meant to last, for good reasons.