Perseverance of a Prejack!
Part 1: Two Secrets revealed
🃁 🂡 🂱 🃑 🃁 🂡 🂱 🃑
"FUCK!" I shouted, throwing my cards onto the green cloth of the poker table, after losing another bet. I had pocket aces, and everyone had folded, but one person with the luck of the lord himself had a straight. The voices around me laughed and ooed. "How did you know?"
"Boy, who wouldn't be able to tell? You tripled your bet, newbie! What kind of moron triples their bet in the first round?" Said a big, cowboy-like man leaning back in his wooden chair across from me, his hat tipping forward to hide his eyes.
"The winner is Bouregard," announced a woman-croupier dressed in penguin-like clothes. She had a big smile on her face as she tipped her imaginary hat forward in the direction of Bouregard. "Mr. Esquire… I say—I say you're really good at this."
"All in the name of glory… bout damn time this bar gets some good players."
I came to this bar often, but in the last two months, it's been more than often. In fact, it's been extremely frequent. Scarily, sometimes.
Poker was one of the ways I distracted myself… That is, until Bouregard showed up a month ago. My bets were small until his "expert at poker–self" strolled in, sat himself down, caught a shot glass in mid-air, and muttered the word "call" for the first time.
"You know, I was a good player until you came into the bar… goddamn hillbilly." I barked at him as the croupier tossed a pair of face-down cards to everyone at the table.
"Listen here, Felix… Oh, thank you, doll–face," He said to me, taking a swig of a shot that a waitress gave him, "you're just a sissy poker–player… no match for Bouregard Esquire. I could give you some tips."
"Ugh… It's alright. I'll be back. Fold." I said, tossing my cards to the table. 1 shot in wasn't enough to make me dizzy, but the world itself felt like it.
The bar was not fancy by any means. In fact, it was quite a quaint sized bar considering all the stuff they had. As soon as you came in, the smell of sweat, beer, and cheap alcohol hit your nose.
It was loud with slow blues music, accompanied by the yells of drunken men celebrating their team winning a football match. The yells were amplified by the successful hoots and hollers of hammered civilians sinking in the 8 ball on the blue velvet pool tables in the bar.
A messed-up ceiling that looked like prison bars hung odd, misplaced stage lights that shone bright in random corners. Pillars covered in millions of stickers held up the bar while providing those drunk enough a place to crash into.
Odd shades of blue and red shone through rays of light from different corners of the bar, painting some of the folks calm and some of them angry.
People sat and ate their food at dimly lit booths, stand–up tables, and more. Hookah was smoked, but not in an absurd amount.
It was at the bottom of a 3–story apartment building, only open at night. The third floor was rented out to people in the daytime, kind of like a studio space, and the second floor was…
Actually? No one knew what the second floor held. It was just there. Anytime the owner, Macy, would be interrogated on it, she said she would not know the answer.
Everyone had the strong suspicion she was hiding something, considering the fact that there was a staircase at the back of the bar to the right, across from the bathrooms, that led upstairs.
Mildred, one of the frequent poker players I am friends with, tried to sneak up the staircase, only to be met with a crazily locked door.
…
What?! You wouldn't question that either?!
Either way, no one has gone upstairs to check, but it irks the back of all our minds.
I marched to the actual bar of the bar, and sat down at one of the sticky wooden chairs. Behind the bar sat a pretty lady in her 20s with blond hair and brown eyes. She dressed in blue jeans, a grey undershirt, and a brown-and-black flannel shirt that was open. She was mixing drinks.
"AGh! Com—ComE On JAckSon… You're no—not quarterbacking properly." Said a wasted young man who was sitting a few seats away from me, watching the game on one of the screens above the bar. The girl laughed.
"Golly, Sawyer, you do like your football." She said, with a shaker cup in her hand, most likely making another daiquiri for Sawyer. "Last one for the night, okay?"
"OkAy, PreTTy ladY." Sawyer said before his wife punched him in the shoulder angrily. "I so—I so sOrRy! RetUrN To Me!" He begged as his wife stormed off. The girl behind the counter shook her head.
"Sigh… you deserved that, Sawyer— oh, hey Felix! What's up? You want a Manhattan like usual? I can get it for you lickity split!"
"Hey, Sadey. Glad to see you're as bright and smiley as always." I said as the sounds of ice, liquid, and general knocks of a table sounded. "I'll—" before I could finish speaking, Sadey had handed me my drink.
"There you go! You know I'm quick. Plus, I've gotten really good at mashing together a Manhattan since you've been coming almost every day… what's up with that?"
I looked at her quickly, then looked down at my glass that held my drink. Why I came was a sore topic, no pun intended, to talk about. And this whiskey was the way I drowned the pain that came with thinking.
"It's—"
"No worries, Felix. Just know that if you need to talk, the bar is here."
"Thanks, Sadey."
So I sat at the bar for a while, slowly taking sips of my drink, looking down at my hands that felt so tense and tight from being so inactive. Everything I did made me feel so sickly.
All because she left.
You're just a sissy poker–player… no match for Bouregard Esquire. I thought to myself, remembering what he said to me. Behind every joke was a little bit of truth.
And to tell the truth, maybe he was right.
"Hey, Big F." A female voice said as she clapped me on the shoulder, bringing me out of my haze. "Let me guess, a Manhattan? For someone who despises New York, you sure do love that drink."
"Hey, Macy," I said as I glanced to my side to see her face. She was a gorgeous, tall lady, wearing a black cheetah–print shirt which showed off her back. Glossy, leathery white pants showed off her slim legs. Her red hair was always out, going down to her butt. "What's up?"
"Oh, just the goddamn usual. Bouregard is scaring off all my patrons. God, I hate that raunchy cowboy." She said as she screamed at Bouregard, who held out his shot glass in Macy's direction, still leaning his chair back on its hind legs. "I swear he needs to go."
"I know. I hate it." I said, taking another sip of my drink. Macy's hand began looping itself in my collar.
"You play him much today?"
"Yes… and lost every round. I don't even think he peeks at his cards."
"Aw halibut!" Said Sadey. Macy and I both looked up to see Sadey cursing out Bouregard. "I bet money that he'd lose this round! I even bribed the dealer!"
Geez, what a man. Bet he could please my woman better.
…
"Hey. Come with me." Macy spoke as she tugged on my collar.
"Ugh… I feel so sad. The glass is too heavy," I said, trying to make any excuse I could to avoid forcing my body to move when it didn't want to. Macy reached for my glass, which was now empty, and with mock–struggle picked it up and placed it to the side.
"Come with me! And be quick, before anybody sees you." She spouted as she dragged me off my seat. I tried to resist, but she was triumphant in our battle.
We crossed the bar, passing by every person that was enraptured in their own worlds. Then we were in front of the bathrooms.
"What? You need someone to help you potty? Someone to clean the toilets?"
But she didn't say anything. Instead, she turned to the right. The haze that I was in dissipated slightly as I questioned her. She was halfway up the stairs before she turned around and motioned me upstairs.
I looked to my right, outside to the bar, and saw Sadey motion me upstairs and zip her mouth shut.
It's worth mentioning that Macy and I were cordial to each other and knew of each other's existence. Whenever I would come around, she was there. Before she left, Macy always hammered on me, making conversation. Anytime I felt down she would play poker with me.
Recently, however, she has been more handsy with me, playing with my collar, rubbing my ankle with her foot, and more. This would pique my suspicion, but I didn't care enough to explore it… I was depressed and broken.
However, I was taken out of that slump for just a moment.
"What the fuck is this?" I said, as I ran up after her.
"Would you be quiet?! You're bout as discreet as a bag of potato chips!" She said, in a loud whisper as she began opening all the locks to the door.
"Okay… where are we going?" I said in a hushed voice, one that did not receive a hushed response. "Okay, apparently it's 'fuck me' today."
"Oh… you'll see." Macy said.
"What is th—?"
Click
And the door opened to a completely dark abyss. Macy directed me in. "Come on. Let's go."
"I'm no—"
"Get in before I get Bouregard to beat your ass!"
"Okay, fine." I stepped in and was completely trapped in darkness. The door closed behind me with a million locks being turned again. Finally, the noises stopped.
…
"So ugh… what? You found the physical representation of my mind and wanted to show me? What is this?"
"Shut up, Big F."
"That's not my—"
Then the lights turned on, revealing a beautiful, carpeted, and cozy apartment. Dark oak complimented creme colored walls. Fuzzy bean bag chairs covered the floor next to a TV, and lovely scents from candles filled the air, completely removing the smell of the bar from my nostrils.
"I told you to shut up and just follow me."
…
"Why the second floor?" I asked.
"Pardon me?"
"You rent out the third floor to people… wouldn't it be smarter to just live there?" I asked her, as she stepped forward, getting a pitcher and bringing it to the coffee table with the bean bags.
"Big F, I had no choice… the building was already furnished when we bought it."
"You built the building! You were the one who funded it!"
"Oh… you're right. Well, nobody wants to be in third place, do they?" She said as she poured me a cup of water into a glass and made a "come–hither" motion.
"Yeah… well, being second sucks too, you know," I said as I sat down next to her. "I know a lot about that. What is this, water?" I asked as I took a drink.
"No, it's alcoholic juice… like adult Capri-Sun." She said. I swallowed my drink quickly, then began gagging and coughing.
"Macy… ahem… you need to tell people that you're giving them something with whiskey."
"Tsk… like you would care." She said as she poured herself a glass. "You've been coming here every day for the last month… you're in such a slump, it's sucking the life out of the bar."
Well, it's not my fault. My girlfriend literally just left me.
"I thought you said Bouregard was the one killing your profits."
"He is!" She said, smashing the table in front of her with her closed fist. "That bastard has been coming in daily, stealing the profits from my customers! He doesn't even buy drinks…" She took a swig and curled her legs up, adding a bend to her side. "My bar girls and staff hand him free drinks just cause he's 'Bouregard.' At least when you were cleaning out the table, you were giving it back to the bar through Manhattans."
She was right. With the amount of Manhattans I bought? I practically paid this building's water bill for 2 months.
"Well, regardless of the stupid Texan, what did you bring me here for? And why is it locked up so tightly?"
"One, I don't want no weird, creepy patron walking into my apartment to a beautiful, naked woman available to be taken advantage of."
"Fair," I said, to which she smiled and blushed slightly.
"And two, I brought you up here because you are the key to making that money back." She said as she cupped my shoulder, fingering my collar again. "You're gonna be the Manhattan boy."
What on earth could that mean?
As if she read my mind, she responded.
"With poker. You're gonna help me beat Bouregard at his own game… and help me win that stupid hat of his."
"Why do you want his hat?"
"I don't! Well, I do. You ever notice he doesn't take it off? He's probably balding!"
"Uh huh… I'm sure your theory is correct… definitely not stemming from your spite."
"Come on! A woman can have dreams too, you know."
I knew that for sure. Unfortunately, the woman I had known for 2 years had bigger dreams than me.
"You do realize I suck at poker, right? I could only win because everyone was so piss–drunk that they couldn't read their cards."
"Yes, I know that!" Her eyes bore their way into my skull, big and happy as if awaiting something. She started rubbing the nape of my neck, grazing it with her long nails. "You're terrible at poker… I'm surprised you made as much money as you did."
"Alright, no need to double down!" I said.
"Regardless of anything, Felix… you ever notice that Bouregard only bets when you don't blink at your cards after you look at them?" She said, tossing her hands in the air in surprise.
"I–I do that?"
"Yes! Oh my goodness, you do that every time. Why do you think you never won against em, you competitive bastard?" She said as she poured me more drink. You also bounce your foot 8 times when you're planning to bet hard."
"W—How—Why do you know this?" I asked in shock. She kept rubbing my neck, then moved forward slightly to look me deeper in the eyes, putting her other hand on my chest. "Ugh— Macy?
Her eyes became sultry, and her voice became a soft whisper. Her touch slowed to such a comforting gentleness.
"Truth be told… I've been watching you more recently." Her voice was now slow and more intentful. "After Kayla left you, and you started showing up to the bar more often, I've had more time to eye you. And by God's goodness, have I liked it."
She wasn't the regular, excited, "full-of-energy" bar owner that she usually was. She had always kept her distance, but I never noticed how much she was watching me. Had she really been analyzing me that much?
I could feel her breath close to me, hitting my shoulder and tickling my chin hair. Just then, a pressure like running water began trickling in my body, slowly following a path down to my crotch.
"H—How do you know that Kayla left?" I asked her, getting a little nervous at her pretty red-lipped smile.
"She gloated all about it on Instagram… she's been bragging about being in Peru right now, having a 'long and enjoyable time' rather than a 'short one'."
Was she taunting me on Instagram? She really didn't care about me anymore… just when I thought there was a chance.
"Hey," Macy spoke. "No. No more sad time for you."
"But—"
"I hated that bitch!" Macy said. "She was so annoying… flirting with other guys right in front of you, always complaining about drinks…" She stood up now. "That stupid bimbo copied my outfit every time you guys came here! She could tell I wanted you."
I stared at her in confusion. I still had feelings for my previous woman, but at the same time, this had been the first time I had felt at least a small something. Though my world was still dark, it still felt nice for a second.
She stood there, looking down at me with her gorgeous red hair. Her eyes were like the pits of a sunflower, attracting me to them.
"Macy, do you like me?" I asked stupidly. She rolled her eyes.
"Oh my goodness, you actual dimwit… YES!" She barked. "What are you talking about? YES! Have you ever heard of subtlety?" She was livid at this.
I just wanted to confirm, geez.
"Do you not remember how many times I would swan over you? I've been flirting with you, idiot. Kayla got so mad all the time."
"Hang on… it's coming back to me." I said sarcastically. She rolled her eyes again. There were many times Macy would argue with Kayla in the bar. She was always competitive with her. Macy would sit next to me at the poker table and compete with Kayla only.
Kayla would get angry every time she lost, and Macy would rub it in by leaning across me, pressing her breasts into my arm, and shouting at Kayla. What was she gonna do? Fight Macy? She owned the bar, and Kayla quite fancied the bar back then.
"I've wanted you for a long time… but Kayla was always in the way. Goodness, you always smell good, you're clean, you dress… decent… we can work on that though–"
"Hey—"
"And the way you would serve her… fuck, was it hot to watch… I could just imagine what it would be like to get that treatment. Always bringing her drinks, pulling her chair out for her… you even kissed her feet and massaged them in the bar! You're practically perfect, and my parents have been urging me to get a man soon…"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I said, finally. "Macy. I am heartbroken. I loved Kayla for such a long time. I'm barely a man now… especially after—"
…
"What?"
"N—nothing," I sputtered.
"That wasn't nothing, Big F. What? What did she do?" Suddenly, Macy was angry, annoyed, and almost protective of me. "Don't tell me she fucked another—"
"No! No! Jesus Christ, what do you take me for? A cuck?"
"Well… with all the things you allowed? I wouldn't be surprised."
That one stung. I felt hurt. This time, though it wasn't by my partner, or even someone I had feelings for necessarily, it still reopened the wound Kayla had left. I stood up and dusted myself off, ready to walk.
"Wait, no!" She said as she stepped over the coffee table and jumped on top of me, to which I caught her and fell on the couch, her now on my lap. "It was a kid! A kidding! A joke—yeah, that… Sorry. Whiskey's kicking in."
She was right in front of me now, and my hands found themselves wrapped around her body. She arched herself against my crotch, grinding the fabric slightly against it. The water trickling down to my special place began to build up behind the dam of my manhood.
"K—Kayla… I… I didn't consent to this." I said, slightly nervous.
"You can say no then."
…
"Fine, you can stay." I said. Kayla laughed and continued grinding against me, her hips retracting and protracting on top of my warmth.
"What did she do, Sir Manhattan?"
"I—I… listen, it wasn't anything, she just left. I just wasn't man enough."
"Yes! But what was it? What happened? You cut yourself off after you said 'especially after.' Speak now!" She said, bashing my chest with her hands, bouncing with every enunciation.
"I—It wasn't anything. Mmm." I moaned slightly as she let her weight go into my lap, adding pressure to my ever–growing length. The darkness that numbed my brain like thick fog began showing a faint, dark purple mist, making me feel fuzzy.
"Come on. A guy like you deserves some fun, especially when I've been waiting for you for so long… Did she send nudes to somebody?" Another bounce. "Did she call you a bad kisser? Do you have a small— oh!" She jumped again, adding so much tension to my shaft, an area that hadn't had love in a long time. "Well, it clearly could not have been that… you're so big."
"I— Fuck… Macy, it's nothing. I— God, what are you doing?" I said, nervously, as she pulled my pants down, revealing my sheath. She spat on her hand and rubbed me, covering me in her lubrication, to which she pressed her glossy, leathery white pants against, continuing to grind against me.
I couldn't stop her even if I wanted to… it felt too good, and she was too determined. She then grabbed my hands and placed them on her waist, making me guide her waist.
No, no, no… not again. Macy is gonna think I'm such a loser… but she feels so good.
She pulled my head into her breasts, hugging me tightly against their cleavage, laying all her weight onto me. All the while, she humped her butt against me, with every tense and release of her pelvis, she repeated the phrase "tell me" over and over again.
"What could it be! I want to know." She said as she played with my hair. "Maybe you are a bad kisser… Hm…" She released me from the weight of her breasts and tilted my chin up, sticking her tongue in my mouth, panting hot breaths into it.
Pleasure fell all over my body… It was so little, but so amazing… such a rush that occurred in a time of blank, boring days.
She swirled her tongue around mine, biting my lip to end every kiss. Her fingers scratched my head, making me feel so nurtured. We exchanged each other's tastes, but hers was potent… like an aphrodisiac, making me fall into a sex craving haze.
My heart beat quickly with euphoria as her breath abated.
Her teeth clashed against mine as her glutes rubbed my thick, long shaft. The worry I once held had vanished, and was replaced by this new, amazing activity.
O—Oh no…
"It can't be that you're a bad kisser…" She said as she pulled away, leaving behind red, glistening marks on my lips. I could see through my narrowed eyes that her mouth was wide open, panting. "Oh my goodness… mmm… where's the Felix who was so depressed? This Felix looks like he's in heaven."
Both of us moaned heavily… Although it had only been 2 minutes, it felt like I could stay here forever.
Macy seductively removed her bra, pushing her butt into my warm parts again and again. She revealed her pretty pink tits, dangling them in front of me, playing with them.
"These big puppies can be all yours… just tell me." She said, and when I tried to speak, she slapped me with them, placing my face between the two. My breathing and vision were cut off. The warm, condensed breaths I exhaled steamed up my brain, causing me to fall further into my daze.
Macy then unbuckled her pants and pulled them down, revealing her warm, puffy slit hiding behind her black panties.
"I bet Kayla didn't let you do this… hehe." She grabbed my warm, hard cock, the one that had been beaten and battered by her amazing ass, and pressed it up to her tight, pink entrance.
"Mmm. Wh—wh… n—no! We don't have c—condoms—ugh!" At those words, she slid me inside of her in one motion, her pussy making my body erupt with emotion.
"F—Fuck! What was that bitch's problem? Th—This cock feels so g—good… I always fantasized about this… but… taking your cock raw now is a dream come true…" She stopped moving and plugged her mouth into mine.
Being inside her pussy felt like every shamed, hurt, and abused part of my body, the parts that received no care and instead, bashings, were being hugged and nursed back to health. She lifted her hips and crashed them back down onto my lap, to which I tilted my head back, creaking my neck to the ceiling, and howled.
"M–Macy!"
"Shh, shh. You look like you're having too much fun… just relax into my pussy… let it take away all that stress… You were bad for not telling me, so now you have two options. You're either gonna tell me what was the reason, o—or…" She stuttered as I twitched inside of her, "you're gonna fill me up with your sweet, depressed cummies… which one will it be, partner?"
Then my mind recentered on why I worried and why I felt so sad as the dam had finally reached its breaking point.
The dam's hole, secured tightly with a million tiny screws, began to shake and tremble from the pressure.
"W—Wait! N—No! It's s—so much… I—I can't… j—"
"Aw… looks like you want to creampie me… hehe." She lifted herself all the way up, just until my cock was almost out of her. Her syrupy juices coated me, making sounds of sticky slime being squashed and stretched. "Fine… have it your way…" She then slammed herself back onto me and began to ride me.
It was too much. The water was fighting to get out, and some of it seeped through… the screws that held the gate so securely began blasting off slightly one by one, ruining the structural integrity of the gate.
I could smell her work pussy that had been trapped behind tight panties and stuffy pants. The smell was potent and rousing, making me go feral.
"Macy p—please, I can't hold it in!"
"Oh, shush… s—stupid boy… It's only been 4 minutes since I got on your lap… mmm… boy, does this silly cock feel amazing… O—oh my… my pussy hasn't fe—felt so good in—s—so long… fuck me, Felix! Fuck me all night!"
All my bones… all my muscles… all the scars Kayla had given me, though opened, were soothed.
And the dam gate had come off.
"Macy! M—Macy! I—I'm–B—but I—" It was too late… the water had gotten through, and was going to release in a few seconds. My chin retracted into my chest as I gritted my face, trying to hold myself back from filling Macy up.
"Here, big baby… let momma soothe you." She then placed my agape mouth onto her nipple. "That's it… mmm… just get ready to fill me up if you aren't gonna answer…" My tongue swirled around Macy's tit all the while my brain went blank.
My body tensed completely at my crotch, making my cock throb and grow so crazily. I tried to tap as if Macy and I were in a wrestling match and she had gotten a good submission.
She did.
"What? Do—Don't tell me you're gonna…"
But it was too late… an amazing, tensing pleasure fell over me, making me writhe with emotion. I muffled protests and whimpers through Macy's tits, but she took this as me yielding, to which she placed her pussy further down on my shaft, enveloping my rock–hard length and taking all of my cum.
"O—Oh, fuckkkk… fill me u–up, baby. Good… suck on momma's fat tits while you fill her pussy up…"
She had me beat. I couldn't get up. All of my energy was being siphoned out of me. I hadn't touched myself in a long time, and so all of it went into Macy.
I convulsed… whined… whinged… my eyes rolled back as she held my head against her soft bosom, arching her maidenhead deeply onto my length.
"T—There it is… pump all your stress into this pussy. Breed me like you mean it, Felix" Macy said.
Kayla was erased in my mind for a moment as the warm embrace of Macy filled my subconscious. With every pulse I fed into her, a connecting electric pulse occurred in my brain, one that zapped away the pathway to my trauma.
"W—wow, Felix. I made the right choice with you…"
"Mmm… mmm… U—ugh…" I said, my eyes slowly narrowing, tired and fulfilled. I was drifting off.
"Heh… I know why Kayla left you… she boasted about it online. All because you're a prejack? Tsk… What a stupid woman… Now you're all mine… I got you now, baby boy."
And for once, in the last 2 months of darkness that was held over my head.
I fell into slumber.
To be continued.
Scroll to the next page for afterthoughts.
Afterthoughts:
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the first entry of the series "Perseverance of a Prejack." This is a WIP, and will be updated weekly (I'm planning on updating it each Saturday at 6pm.)
Stay tuned and share your thoughts in the comments. Who knows, if enough are into this (I mean… who wouldn't be), then I might update it more. Either way, thank you.
- Perceus -
Part 2: (Coming next week)
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