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How would you like it if you walked into a public restroom, suddenly had your arms pinned behind you, your trousers yanked down, and were then wonderfully sucked off by a beautiful, well-built, blonde? And, after that, you were sucked up hard again, then laid on the floor on your back while a gorgeous redhead got on top of you and fucked merrily away until you came again? Unbelievable? Not if you live in New York City today. And in fact, the odds are that that is exactly what might happen to you if you spend much time in Manhattan, even as a tourist.
My name is John Bartley. This incredible story first came to light about a year ago. As a reporter for a large daily newspaper, I was assigned to the Police Beat. One evening as I lounged about the local station house, shooting the shit with my friend Sgt. Holloway, of the Detective Squad, a man stumbled in, yelling and screaming that he had been raped. Naturally, such an accusation provoked a lot of laughter, and several of the officers joked that it should happen to them; they should be so lucky. But the outraged citizen wasn't amused, and considering how he looked, I really couldn't blame him. His name was Mr. Purdy, and he was about forty, balding, with the beginnings of the usual middle-aged spread prominently showing.
Both arms were inside his trousers, one in front and one in back. They had been tied at the wrists, and his trousers were then pulled up, zipped, and belted. As a result, he was forced to walk rather crab-like, adding to his discomfort. We had to take down his pants in order to free him. When we did, we found that almost his entire lower body was covered with clear imprints of female lips; indelibly inscribed with bright red lipstick. Whoever had put it there certainly meant for it to be seen.
After freeing Mr. Purdy's hands, calming him down enough so that he could talk without raising his voice, and refreshing our coffee cups, we listened to his story; with open-mouth awe.
Mr. Purdy had been in New York City on a convention trip. Leaving his hotel, he had strolled about seeing the sights, like any other tourist. Feeling the call of nature, he went into a public toilet facility in one of the large office buildings. Being unfamiliar with the city, he wasn't able to tell us which one for sure. Anyway, as he had closed the door, two pairs of hands had grabbed him, while a third expertly unzipped his pants, pulled his meat out, and then he saw that his attacker was a gorgeous blonde girl, no more than twenty or twenty-one. To his utter astonishment, the girl then fell to her knees, popped his joint in her mouth, and proceeded to give him the wildest blow job he had ever before in his life had.
For a lass so tender in years, she had certainly been experienced at sucking cock. Her tongue had played around with the head until Mr. Purdy thought he would scream in ecstasy. Then she had let almost the entire shaft sink so deeply into her mouth that when she swallowed, it felt as if he were being milked. Well, Mr. Purdy is only human, and after very little of that treatment, she made him come. Blushing profusely, he admitted that he had come in her mouth, and that she had swallowed every drop of it. Holloway and I exchanged glances, wondering if maybe we had some kind of a kook on our hands. But the sincere way in which he told his story convinced us both that it was the truth. We urged him to go on.
After the girl had finished sucking him off, she got up and another one took her place. Mr. Purdy's cock had started going down, but there were still traces of come on the head. She smeared these droplets all over the still swollen tip; giving Mr. Purdy the sensation that there were a million little insects crawling all over it. Dropping his head, Mr. Purdy admitted that he didn't remember too much about what had happened for awhile. The feeling was so delicious that he thought he was going to faint.
"How many were there?" asked Sgt. Holloway.
"Three. And all three were young enough to be my daughter. There was the blonde, the one I told you about first. Then the second girl was a redhead. Really beautiful. And there was a little brunette; although she had a grip like a wrestler. She was the one holding me. I have never seen any one so small, yet so strong. I couldn't move. I know that might sound like I really wasn't trying very hard, but it's true. I swear it is. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't would I?"
"Relax, Mr. Purdy," Holloway soothed, seeing that he was beginning to raise his voice again. "We believe you. It's just that we need all the information you can supply. Now, go on. What happened next?"
Taking a big swig of hot coffee, Mr. Purdy went on with his story. After getting it hard, it seems the redhead pulled his balls out of his pants, and began kissing them. She didn't stop there however. They took his pants down, and she kissed him all over. That was when he got the lipstick on him. It was then that Mr. Purdy recovered from the shock of what was happening and started to make an effort to get away. All three of the girls forced him to the floor, and while two of them sat on him, the redhead stood, and slowly pulled her dress up. Dropping his voice so low we had to ask him to repeat, Mr. Purdy said the redhead hadn't had any panties on underneath. She was, however, a real redhead. That much Mr. Purdy could testify, was real.
After she had her skirt hiked up over her waist, she had stepped astraddle of Mr. Purdy. One of the other girls, the brunette he thought, was holding his cock upright, sort of jacking him off. Smiling at him seductively, the redhead had then lowered herself agonizingly slow, until her cunt was just barely touching the tip of his staff. Then, she had tormented him by rubbing the moist opening over his cockhead, holding the lips open so that his cock would almost penetrate her. After what had seemed like a lifetime of torture, she had suddenly dropped on him, completely enveloping his throbbing sex organ.
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