A Late Summer Night’s Eve
by Abducted Damsel as Roxanne, as recounted to Victor Von Doum
Illustration by Mike Lee
Chapter Five: Seeing No Eve-ill
Eve, still tightly blindfolded but obviously not gagged after her deep-tongue-and-Tom-juice-swap session with Roxanne, needs more. Her Os, while massive, have only stirred her vah-gee-gee. Knowing how Tom is going to need some time to recuperate—even with the assistance of his little blue pills—announces, between kisses with Roxanne,
“Hey cowboy, go into my purse and take out what you think we need to keep this party going.”
Tom walks over to the table with Eve’s purse on it, curious to see what it contains. Roxanne peeks out of the corner of her eye, but turns back immediately to deep-French-kissing Eve.
Roxanne wonders what it could be, as she and Eve continue their juice-soaked make-out, with both of their heads down toward the foot-end of the bed, with Roxanne’s tall tan cowgirl boots tied side-by-side at the ankles and boot-tops, and lashed securely to the headboard, making the occasional wooden-heel-on-wood-headboard clomp; with Eve’s wrists cross-tied behind her back and her shiny tall black leather cowgirl boots still cross-tied at the ankles now in the air as she rests her weight between her knees and her chest, erect nipple-to-erect nipple with Roxanne’s.
“Hey, I think I’ve got it,” announces Tom, having finished his foraging. “And got me another idea too,” as he picks up a random and slightly damp black bandana off the floor.
Spotting Eve’s wet panties on the side of the now-messy bed coverings, he grabs them with his left hand. Eve can’t see him pick them up or when he uses his left forearm against her right collarbone to move her off from on top of Roxanne and into a kneeling position, straddling the prone cowgirl around Roxy’s upper thighs, facing forward: the cowgirl position, coincidentally enough. Roxanne, no longer blindfolded but with eyes shut from kissing Eve, doesn’t see it coming either. Both women, surprised, wonder Tom’s next move. Roxanne finds out first.
Lifting up Roxanne’s head slightly off the bed, Tom jams Eve’s wet panties back into Roxanne’s mouth.
“Nnnn-mmmmph!” Roxanne yells, to no avail, as Tom takes the extra long bandana and ties it tightly, cleaving Roxanne’s now-pried-open lips and runs it around the back of her tousled and sweaty mane. Roxanne tastes the lingering remnants of Tom’s juices now mixing with Eve’s. With no hope of dislodging these new gags, she bites down into them.
“Save it, sister,” Tom warns to Roxanne. “You got another task to perform, and it don’t require no sassy back-talk from you.”
“Here’s the plan, ladies: Eve, you’re the see-no-evil monkey, and Roxanne, you’re the speak-no-evil one. Between you two, you still can hear, so you’ll need to communicate somehow to figure out how to even the score between you two. Here, I’ll give you a little hint.”
Tom tosses a 12-inch double-headed black dildo onto Roxanne’s crotch. Not seeing it coming, she jumps a little when it lands flat on her inner thighs, one head hitting each thigh. By its length, weight, and texture, she’s not quite sure of its identity when it lands on her.
“Now you grab it from underneath—yeah, I know your pretty little wrists are tied together ; that’s what makes it all that more challenging—and line it up so your girlfriend Eve here can make it useful for herself. Eve, you seem like a smart filly; I think you know what I found in your purse, ‘specially since you were the one telling me to go get it. And since you can’t see too good right now, you’re just gonna have to feel your way down onto it from your knees and your purdy tied-up black cowgirl kickers.”
Roxanne purrs into her gags, clearly relishing the task at hand. Eve licks her lips in anticipation…
ROXANNE: I am oblivious to whatever Tom is doing. I am busy French-kissing Eve, and she is returning the favor. She pries her mouth free from mine long enough to yell about something in her purse, then her mouth clamps back over mine. It‘s weird, not being able to use my hands; I’m sure Eve feels the same. Her lips are soft and I can taste her lipstick. I really want to touch her, feel her, and give her pleasure.
I feel a pair of hands lifting my head, and am rewarded with Eve's wet panties crammed into my mouth and secured with a scarf or bandana. I moan my displeasure as I feel something long and hard land between us. Eve giggles and I could feel her hands twisting and turning trying to grab whatever it is, though I’m starting to get an idea.
It’s like playing naked bondage Twister. Eve finally manages to grab the thing, and coos for a moment. I feel it hard and cool between us, and then realize what it is: a long dildo! Ohhhh k, now I got it. I wondered what made her gasp, and now I can feel that monster between her legs! I start bending and turning and twisting until she finally lines it up with my sweet spot. I am already sopping wet when she thrusts it into me, with a little laughter and a little lust all in one! It easily slides inside me, and sinks enough for our pelvises to touch a bit.
I’m not sure who is fucking who, and I don’t care. I am thrusting, and then riding, just as she is. It isn’t long until she turns into jelly, moaning and kissing my mouth over my gagged lips, which, in turn, sends me over the edge, causing me to bite down on my gags, little cries of ecstasy coming from my gagged mouth!
I hear, or rather feel Tom on the bed, with a moan from Eve, and more slurping sounds. I just know she has him in her mouth again. Now she’s back to being my enemy! I feel his hand on my breast, twisting my nipple, and pawing at the other one. I can hear Eve gag every once and a while, and I sure know just how she feels. I open my eyes and see her sucking his length almost directly above me...
“Why look at you two goin’ at it—like you was regular pros or somepin’!” Tom exclaims, watching Eve and Roxanne share the foot-long dildo between them with great satisfaction to ALL parties involved.
Eve rides Roxanne while eagerly slurping on Tom’s erect manhood; Roxanne has to content herself with chewing on the mouth-packed Eve-panty-gag, and the lingering taste of Tom’s juice in her mouth. With both women’s wrists cross-tied behind each of their backs, they must display a sense of balance approaching that of a tightrope (ironically enough) walker, but both somehow master the challenge effortlessly.
Roxanne, flat on her back with her wrists tied beneath her, fields the far easier of the two jobs. She tests the ropes around her ankles and boot-tops but hears only rope-against-leather squeaks and the occasional thud from her stacked wooden cowgirl heels bumping against the headboard as Eve, still blindfolded, rides the dildo between them, getting them both closer to another O, while simultaneously deep-throating Tom as he stands on atop a folded-over Navajo blanket atop a rustic wooden storage bench at the foot of the bed. Roxanne looks up and sees Eve’s mouth taking in Tom’s shaft from a ground-eye view, and seethes with envy.
Surveying the scene, Tom realizes an imbalance in the proceedings. As if to sense Roxanne’s unfair treatment, he pulls out of Eve’s mouth and drops to his knees onto the wooden bench. He looks down, grabs Roxanne’s bandana gag, slides if off her mouth and places it over her eyes. He pulls out the mouth-packed wad of Eve’s panties from Roxanne’s mouth, and instantly shoves his sac into it, and begins deep-kissing Eve who is still riding Roxanne from the cowgirl position.
“This way, EVERYONE gets it from two angles!” Roxanne finds this upside-down teabag-giving a little difficult, but manages to suck and flutter-tongue Tom’s scrotum the best way she can, all the while taking the dildo deep into her womanhood and grinding her pelvis against her once-mere acquaintance, then one-off hook-up, now full-blown hot bisexual lover Eve.
Tom, for his part, knows that this go-round will mark his last; and a personal record for him in any case. He alternates massaging Eve’s rack with Roxanne’s, sometimes with one hand per woman, sometimes both on the same cowgirl, tweaking nipples, safe-opening aureoles, or just plain semi-gentle boob-squeezing. Needing more himself, he pulls his sac out of Roxanne’s mouth and lets her take his eight inches into it instead. He feels his scrote make frequent slaps against Roxanne’s eyes and nose as she seals her lips around his manhood.
Tom thinks for a moment and realizes he can’t believe his unbelievable good luck tonight: he’s gone from a lonely night in a Western-style hotel and a few solo drinks in a cantina to nailing not one but two cowgirls, both ssssmokin’ hot, both blindfolded, both skilled in the sexual arts, both more than willing to experiment with each other, and most of all, both with their wrists still tied up behind their backs, still wearing bandanas around their necks, and of course still sporting their tied-up cowgirl boots…
ROXANNE: As if reading my mind, Tom removes my gag, and lowers his balls to my waiting mouth. I swirled them around, gently, as I’ve been told how sensitive the jewels can be. With Eve still riding me, I am much more in the mood now that Tom is giving me some attention. Eve makes tiny cries every so often, which really is turning me on.
I manage to open my mouth and Tom eases his balls out of it and with a swift move, I lean forward and take his shaft into my wet mouth. He throws his head back and moans as I take all of him deep into my throat. I think he might blow his load, but he stays cool, and withdraws before it gets too late. He is breathing heavy as he gets up from the bed, leaving both of us to wonder what he is doing. He eases the dildo out of us, and made each of us lick the side of the dildo which was just in the other one. What a PERV!! One by one, he unties us, only to hogtie us, both of us on our knees in front of him. With neither one of us now gagged, Tom removes both women’s blindfolds.
"Now ladies, it wouldn’t be fair for me to blow my wad in one of yours and not the other. So, I think one last facial is in order for both of you!" Tom instructs us to alternate, one of us would lick and suck his shaft while the other licks his balls. He cups the back of our heads, and gently pushes us together. We get it, and began to French-kiss each other as he plays with our boobs. His dick is bouncing, hitting us on our cheeks while we make out. Eve goes first, and she bends forward, taking his 8" inside her mouth, while I lick his balls, and then we switch, working in a sloppy kiss while we are switching. Tom's breathing is getting ragged and we know he is close...
“Just realized sumpin,” Tom declared as he pulls away from Roxanne and Eve’s collaborative head-giving and sac-sucking effort. The women stop for a moment till Tom points at them to resume their make-out session, which they gleefully do.
“Just remembered that while you two have obliged me at least once each with your purdy mouths, and Roxanne here has been so gracious as to allow me into just above every orifice this side of her nostrils…that I ain’t exactly felt the insides of YOUR sugar walls yet, Lil’ Miss Black Cowgirl Boots. Ya game?”
“Bring it, cowboy,” Eve responds.
“Well all right then,” Tom replies, as he picks Eve up from the floor and plops her on her back on the bed, her ankle-cross-tied boots falling over the foot board.
Roxanne looks up, wondering whether she’ll have to bide her time voyeuristically till they finish. Knowing how close Tom was to cumming before he pulled away, it could take Tom no time at all; or maybe because he’s come four or so times already, it might take a while.
“Shit!” Roxanne thinks. “He can’t just leave me high and dry again.”
“And you, little Miss Dishwater Fox,” addressing Roxanne by her summer nickname, “Don’t you think for a minute that I’ve forgotten about you.”
Tom picks Roxanne up and puts her on her stomach towards the head of the bed; her cross-tied tan cowgirl boots now up in the air and again touching the headboard---but this time with her snip-toes--- the ropes running from her ankle-ropes to her wrist-ropes showing some slack.
“Get your pretty little self closer to your girlie friend,” Tom instructs.
Roxanne, hogtied but not strictly so, inches her way forward on her knees and thighs. She looks at Eve upside down and starts kissing her from that direction. Eve responds with characteristic deep tongue.
“Oh, and because I only have me ONE of these,” as Tom points to his erect manhood, “you can use this here other one.”
He tosses the double-headed dildo in Roxanne’s direction. It lands very close to its intended target; Roxanne bound hands find it and look for a way to put it inside her, as she moves over slightly to Eve’s left side and downward on Eve’s torso. The stars align as Roxanne moves far enough and begins to suck on Eve’s right breast, Eve begins on Roxanne’s left one—now squarely pointing downward right above her lips.
While Roxanne finds a way to angle the dildo inside of her, Tom moves the wooden storage bench away from the end of the bed, steps in between the ropes that connect Eve’s cross-tied black cowgirl boots to the cross-tied wrists beneath her, and guides his eight inches into Eve’s awaiting vagina. He leans over occasionally, putting his hands on each of Eve’s inner thighs as he continues his thrusting, a movement that moves Eve enough to move Roxanne also, who can feel the dildo rock inside her. Mostly he just stands and delivers with piston-like precision, over and over and over until…
… the three of them explode simultaneously with the bomb-bursts of ecstasy: Eve wraps her lower lips as tightly as she can around Tom’s eight inches as he delivers the last of his seed deep within her; Roxanne clamps down around the deeply lodged dildo as she gums Eve’s right breast uncontrollably.
The three of them work out the last of their lingering orgasmic waves for as long as possible, finally succumbing to exhaustion. Tom pulls out of Eve; Roxanne rolls off of her and removes the dildo from inside of her womanhood. Still breathing heavily, the two women look at each other and smile, both knowing they’ve stumbled across the ultimate back-up plan; they each purse their lips knowingly, winking at each other to signal their respective acknowledgement.
Recognizing her sudden thirst for non-bodily fluid refreshment, but now, after this evening’s proceedings, finding a man’s love juice more comforting than mother’s milk, Roxanne asks,
“Hey Tom, how ‘bout a beer for your cowgirls here?”
Eve raises her eyebrows in agreement.
“Shoot, great idea there, lil’ missy. I reckon you’ve more than earned it.” Tom picks up his jeans off of the floor, heads over to the mini-fridge that he stocked with a few six packs that he’d bought from the cantina, anticipating—incorrectly, to his eternal good fortune—a storm-drenched solo evening watching Skin-a-Max. He pulls three beers out of the fridge, brings them into the bathroom with him and closes the door. The women adjust their still-hogtied bodies into more upright positions and they hear the faint sounds of Tom’s peeing.
They nuzzle up against each other and start to kiss again slightly, recognizing their now-deep mutual attraction; with both of their wrists and ankles still tied, they wait for Tom to return from the bathroom and for the next phase of their adventure as they feel some juices drip from their nether regions onto the bedspread.
Tom returns from the bathroom wearing only his jeans; his chiseled chest showing some signs of graying hair on it, merely adding to his alpha male attractiveness to these two 22-year-olds.
Tom takes a sip of his Sierra Nevada with his right hand, holding two Miller Lites in his left. “Sheesh, where are my manners?” he asks out loud as he moves closer to the bed with the two women on it. Tom puts his beer down and holds a Lite to each of the women’s mouth. Tilting their heads back slightly, Roxanne and Eve drink a few sips of beer each, enjoying the refreshment it provides. Moments later they hear Tom speak softly,
“Sleep tight, cowgirls,” as they slump over: Eve on her right side and Roxanne on her left, facing each other.
Roxanne awakens to bright sunlight streaming into the room, broken only by the translucent white curtains behind the heavy drapes. Of course, she cannot see any of it, not with her eyes tightly blindfolded with that same Ace bandage-type stretchy material that Tom had used on her and Eve the night before. She tries to talk to Eve, but instantly realizes that Tom has re-gagged her, this time with knotted bed-sheets lodged firmly into her mouth, though her tongue tastes clean and minty. She also realizes she’s fully clothed, including a bra, and she feels no more bodily fluids, either on—or dripping out of—her.
“What the hell happened,” Roxanne thinks. “Did he brush my teeth, comb my hair, and sponge-bathe me all over when I was knocked out?”
“Mmmph-mmm?” (“Roxanne?”) Roxanne hears, and realizes that Eve is lying right next to her.
“Mmm!” (“Eve!”) Roxanne replies to her new best friend with benefits.
Both women soon realize that Tom has indeed cleaned them both thoroughly and dressed them in new clean outfits from their overnight bags that they had brought with them into the cantina, both preparing to wait the storm out should it have gotten bad: in a way, however, bad boy Tornado Tom did storm them with his virility, in almost every way possible.
Roxanne, now wearing indigo-dark jeans tucked into her tan Lucchese boots feels the back of her matching wide tan leather belt with her thumbs, her wrists now tied together, palm-to-palm. She attempts to move her legs but quickly realizes that Tom has roped her legs tightly side-by-side and has tied them in several places that she cannot see—around the ankles, the boot-tops, above the knees, and mid-thigh. Another set of ropes run on top and bottom of her boobs, putting pressure onto her plaid country shirt with light brown, orange and red patterns on it, a blue patterned bandana around her neck. She works to dislodge her tight and thick gag but realizes the futility of it all: she knows all too well Tom can tie, so with her escape attempts only resulting in a few faint rope-on-leather squeaks, she stops.
Eve, tied in exactly the same ways, feels her well-faded Levis tucked into her tall black cowgirl boots, and feels the back of her wide Western-buckled black belt, her black-and-red checked Western shirt crisply tucked into her jeans, with a yellow bandana tied loosely around her neck. She attempts a struggle out of her knots, grunting in frustration, but stops abruptly when both women hear a knock on the door and the Spanish-accented voice: “Housekeeping!”
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