Fantasizing
The second installment in my "How Fast Can You Fap" series of short eroticas. Again, this one was drafted and finished in the maximum amount of time that I allow myself for these, an hour.
Fantasizing
A short erotica from the "How Fast Can You Fap?" series by Joseph Raszagal
Welp, Raszagal confirmed for biggest slut~
~ ~ ~
Grumpy and tired, a young kangaroo named Joseph Raszagal hops quietly down the darkened city streets. Slung over his back is a lumpy canvas bag full of his work clothes; a pair of pre-ripped bluejeans, a sun visor that was to be worn only backwards, a pair of cheap flip-flops, and a robin's egg blue t-shirt with the brand name "Hollister" blatantly emblazoned across its' front.
He hated how they always asked him not to wear his glasses while working because it made his overall image match the store's that much more closely.
"Sooner or later it won't matter how well managing the stock room there pays," Joey mutters with a scowl from beneath the flickering light of a nearby streetlamp. "Dealing with that place just isn't worth it. It's like My Super Sweet Sixteen if it were a store instead of a show."
The 'roo arrives at his apartment sometime past midnight, still grumbling under his breath even as he climbs the creaky staircase to his door. After unlocking it, Joey flings it open hard enough to loosen the numbers nailed to it, the 63's six flipping upside-down and thereby becoming a nine.
Days later, a supreme pizza with all of the toppings would never reach him as a result.
"I swear, if I hear 'Bounce in California' one more time, I'll punch every surfboard on the planet," he growls as he trudges into his bedroom and tosses his bag down onto the floor.
Heaving a massive sigh, he flops down onto his bed with all of the grace of a plane crash, instantly relaxing into its plush surface. Within minutes, his temper mellows out, work far behind him and the weekend ahead of him.
However, his emotional 180 degree turn proves to be more than just his anger evaporating when he looks down at the big tent pitched in his pants.
"Are you serious?" Joey half-laughs. "I knew I hated work just as much as the next guy, especially working there, but I didn't know I hated it so much that the prospect of not working actually got me horny."
But sure enough, waiting for him as he slips out of his pants and boxers is a rock-hard cock, pink and slick and practically begging for attention. Gliding two fingers down along the contours of his crotch, he finds his sheath pulled all the way back and his plump balls taut, urgently in need of release. With a grin, he wraps his right paw tenderly around his length, boxers still hanging loosely around his ankles, and begins pumping it slowly. A steady stream of happy sighs gradually morphs into blissful moans as the seconds elapse into minutes, the kangaroo continuing to greedily stroke himself. Another 30 seconds passes and his job is made all the easier by a generous flow of pre-cum, his pulsing pole providing its own natural lube. With his tool suddenly slippery, Joey tightens his grip ever-so-slightly and picks up his pace, a loud, earnest moan escaping his lips in the process.
It's then that his imagination takes over, as it always does, dragging him willingly into one of his many fantasies.
Last time it had been a group of dalmatian firemen surrounding him, but this time it's an Alaskan sled team. Eight panting huskies circle him from all sides, little to no elbow room between them, and each is making a steamy spectacle of themselves as they stroke their red canine cocks. Joey lays in the center, ready to receive, his mouth open and his eyes closed. Soft yips and low, sultry growls permeate the air as one by one, they climax, painting the sprawled-out marsupial with a thick coating a sticky, white seed. Some bark their way through anti-climactic orgasms, others howl and release jet after juicy jet of their milky cream all over Joey's awaiting face. His chin, his nose, his cheeks, his hair; thick ropes of cum completely cover his head. All he can smell is the aroma of their potent jizz, the scent as intoxicating and addicting as any powerful narcotic.
Just as the last dog cums, his white geyser spattering the kangaroo's neck and upper chest, the fantasy suddenly collapses in on itself and thrusts its creator back into reality.
More aroused that he has been in weeks, Joey sits there breathing raggedly and ready to burst.
"Oh, God, I've gotta have it on my face," he gasps, his tongue lolling out, as he stops what he's doing to dash over to the nearest wall. Using the surface to prop himself up, he positions himself almost completely upside-down, locks his strong tail into place like a kickstand, and then redoubles his efforts.
The 'roo strokes himself roughly, almost painfully, and aims his dick down at his own face. He feels dirty, like a complete and utter whore, and he's absolutely losing his mind in the ecstasy of that feeling. He doesn't just want to splatter his own face, he needs to. Hopelessly lost in the realm of his fantasy, he needs to feel the trails of pearly cum as they drip down his nose and off of his chin. He needs to taste that sweet and salty flavor as it sprays past his lips and into his open, expecting mouth. He needs to see the lascivious crescendo as it happens, his eyes wide in anticipation as his man's milk rains down upon him.
"Ah, ah-ah, ah, ahhhhh!" Joey screams in delight, his orgasm tearing through his body like a bolt of mind-numbing lightning.
As soon as his seed hits his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, nothing else matters in the world. For a short, sweet pawful of seconds, everything is as it should be. Joey's tail gives out on him and he slides off of the wall, collapsing in a sweaty heap upon the floor. The rapid rising and falling of his chest could fool anyone into thinking he had just run a marathon... or two! But no, instead he had simply unleashed his mind and allowed it to wander, taking him with it to far away dens of debauchery that he would likely never see in reality.
For a few brief moments, he had seen the top of the mountain and goddamn was it good.
"F-fuck... I'm climbing it again... in 20 minutes," he gasps with a grin, catching his breath. "M-maybe... Kenya's Olympic track... and field team this time... Zebras... are fucking hot..."
~ ~ ~
So, yeah, that one sorta had me in it.
Well then...
*Shrugs and continues to eat Doritos.*