Trouble in River City, Folks!

House PartyHouse Party, my latest smut story was to be short for me at 20-30K words but I’m currently blowing through 41K words without even the light from the train at the end of the tunnel yet. I just can’t stop breaking the rules!

According to the rules, every story has to include conflict and resolution along with someone everybody hates. I think it was in Wife Swap 2 that I had a bad guy but that’s all.

I’ve always written stories which had their beginnings in some of the things that we’ve seen and done in the Lifestyle. For us, life has always been HEA and it’s been a struggle to add conflict to things that are just plain enjoyable.

In House Party, I am determined to break out of my mold and create dissent in the ranks. As I write from the seat of my pants (“pantster”), I never know how a story is going to end. I come up with a basic idea and then pitch the story to the characters who act it out on the stage between my ears. You might say that I am an Improv writer with a perverted cast of characters in my brain. Sybil better watch out because I’m coming for her!

This makes it pretty easy for me, like Stephen King, I just wank along (sorry meant to say walk) and write down everything the actors do and say as they take the humble beginnings of a story and run with it.

Foxy gets a hair up her ass and runs off to California with a guy she meets at a house party. And I’m left with his wife to pick up the pieces. But the fickle person that she is, while at a porn studio ends up making a trial porn movie with two guys and another girl. Foxy ends up going home with the actors when tragedy strikes.

Below is an excerpt of the morning after Foxy’s initial foray into the porn movie business, well other than home movies. This is still in draft stage and please ignore any writing issues.


Excerpt from the upcoming story House Party

Foxy was in the middle of a coupling with the same two guys and girl from her first “official” porn movie and seriously felt there was truth to the “getting your brains fucked out” theory.

One guy was in her throat, or at least as far as his big dick could go in her mouth. At the same time, the other guy was completely buried in her ass. She could feel his balls slapping against her cunt every time he rammed his cock home. To top it off, her girlfriend was underneath her, licking her wet drooling cunt.

In Foxy’s fantasy, she would feel the heads of their dicks touching in her stomach every time they jammed into her. She was skewered from both ends or spit roasted as the saying goes. It seemed that every time the guy rammed his cock up her ass, she would orgasm. It went in so far, she imagined this is what a colonoscopy must feel like. Except that the scope was likely a lot smaller than the cock currently buried in her ass.

She had just sucked the other guy off after he fired his load into her mouth and across her face. The problem with really big dicks is that it was hard to contain the cum in your mouth. Now, I need Max with his cameras, she told herself with a giggle as she felt the cream dripping off her chin. She could feel his jizz tightening on her face as it dried and could just imagine how she looked. Hopefully, she would remember to get a selfie before passing out.

The dick in her ass had just stopped erupting and felt like it was down to a dribble as the guy slowly pulled his cock out. When the head slipped out, she collapsed onto the girl underneath and buried her head between the sweet thighs to lap up the juice on her young shaved pussy.

Her new girlfriend was so nasty, even more than Foxy if that was possible. She had climaxed so many times that now with a tongue buried in her well-fucked hole, she could barely respond.

Then as she felt the cock juice starting to drip out of her wide open back hole and run down into the girl’s mouth, she managed to work out a feeble climax. The orgasm was so weak, it barely registered in her fevered brain as she tried to focus on the young girl’s sweet pussy in front of her mouth.

Through the fog, she heard “Larry Archer,” which snapped her to relative alertness.

“What? What was that?” she muttered as she tried to force her brain to reboot. Listening, she realized that she’d heard something on the television. “Give me the remote!” she ordered.

Turning towards the television, she tried to focus on the screen. One eye was completely glued shut from dried spunk and the other partially covered with a rope of cum that stretched from her hair to her cheek.

Holding the unfamiliar remote in her hand, Foxy searched for and found the reverse button to back up the program. Thank God for satellite television, she told herself as she punched the reverse then play buttons. If Larry has gotten hurt because of my shenanigans, I’ll never forgive myself.

After a second, the screen cleared and she watched as a line of limousines pulled up to a hotel entrance. The valet rushed to open the rear door and outstretched Porsche, one of the mayor’s constant companions. Dressed in a typical sequined showgirl outfit, she seemed ten-feet tall with the plumage from the headdress.

Porsche was Foxy’s favorite showgirl and they had spent many times in bed together, without the headdress, of course.

Next, the mayor exited his limo, carefully balancing his ever-present martini to avoid spilling it. The mayor was a shorter, older man with a perpetual grin on his face. He was a perfect representative of the excesses of Las Vegas and as a past mob lawyer, well suited for the job.

Taking a sip of his martini for the cameras, he extended his hand into the limo and helped his second showgirl out. Another of Foxy’s “close” friends, she could feel her neither sections dampen from the erotic thoughts of those two.

The next vehicle up was a black Suburban and not a limousine as expected. Larry, you asshole, always have to be different! Foxy relaxed as she realized that he was not hurt or in trouble. The huge armored Suburban looked like a lion among a herd of gazelles as the driver and passenger doors opened and two girls exited.

Foxy recognized them as two valets from The Fox’s Den except they were mostly clothed, which was the unusual part. Wearing sleeveless white shirts with a diamond opening to expose their young boobs, both girls were wearing black bowties. Finishing it off were black miniskirts with black strappy stripper shoes.

The girls opened the rear door and from the rear seat came a long, long leg exposed all the way to the waist. Foxy wondered how long she had practiced that exit as the side slit on the dress went all the way up to the promised land.

She laughed to herself as she noted that the cameraman had subconsciously centered his video camera on the girl’s crotch. The dress, open from the slit, went across the girl’s crotch and just barely hid the evidence of her wearing underwear or not. Foxy assumed she was commando, as she was with Larry.

The dress looked familiar and then it struck her, The Mayor’s Charity Ball is tonight and she’d completely forgotten about it. Larry is probably mortified with her being in Los Angeles, not to mention getting her brains fucked out by two huge cocks.

When the rest of the girl appeared, Foxy was relieved that it was Sherry, the girl she’d asked to look after Larry. God, she was gorgeous and wearing the dress Larry had just bought for her. Of course, Sherry filled it out better with her big melons and Foxy could see that the top of the dress was under a lot of strain, courtesy of the best plastic surgeons around.

She remembered being shocked at the price tag and wondered why the less you got, the more you paid. The cameraman zoomed in on Sherry’s big tits as the moderators talked in the background.

“Who is that with Larry Archer, that’s not his wife is it? I thought she was a big-haired brunette and not blonde.”

“That girl looks familiar, but …, wait that’s Sherry Marsh from Channel Twelve News, isn’t it? Where’s Larry’s wife?”

“I’d heard there might be trouble in River City but that was just a rumor. Sherry looks exceptionally beautiful without her work outfit on.”

“Did you say they were having problems?”

“I just heard that Sherry was spending a lot of time with Larry and some other woman but wasn’t sure if it meant anything or not.”

“Here comes Larry out now. He is smashing in a tux with his chiseled body and sexy looks. You know, I agree that he does look a lot like a young Elvis Presley.”

“He is reaching back into the Suburban, maybe Foxy is on the far side. No, no, that’s not her, it’s another tall blonde, similarly dressed or undressed as it were.”

“Remember, the mic is on!”

“Sorry, this girl is tall, well over six-foot and stunning to be polite. She’s wearing a similar metallic dress, open in all the right places. I must say Larry has done all right with these two. If the Archer’s are having problems, he’s obviously not letting it bother him.”

“I guess it took two to replace his hot wife!” the one moderator snickered.

Both moderators politely laughed at the comment as the second girl slid out of the Suburban and both girls stood with their arms interlinked in Larry’s and smiled for the cameras which blinded them from the strobes going off.

Larry walked over to the mayor who stood there waiting and they both shook hands. Larry kissed both showgirls on the cheek and introduced his dates.

“Mr. Mayor, please allow me to introduce Sherry and Delphine. Girls, this is the Mayor of our fine city.”

Handing his martini to one of the showgirls, the mayor kissed both of Larry’s girls while trying not to start at the mountains of boob flesh exposed. He was shorter which put his face right on the proper level. All he could think of was motor-boating those jugs.

Turning to Larry, he quipped, “Two for one tonight, big guy?” Then after a moment’s hesitation, “Foxy indisposed?”

“She’s out of town, ” Larry answered noncommittally.

“We need to get together and talk about your upcoming Charity Bikini Golf Tournament. I’ve got some ideas on how to expand it and bring in even more money for local charities,” the mayor said while continuing to stare at both Sherry and Del’s luscious hooters.

About this time the Sheriff walked up with his wife and shook hands with everyone. His wife was an attractive woman in her mid-forties with short blonde hair and wearing an expensive dress that was relatively modest considering her husband’s position.

Kissing him on the cheek, she whispered in his ear, “Is everything okay with Foxy? I’ve heard rumors and now seeing you with these two bombshells! And both blonde to boot, Larry. That’s almost heresy.”

“Everything’s fine, she’s just out of town for a couple of weeks,” Larry answered.

There was concern on her face as she replied, “Call me when you can talk.”

Larry squeezed her arm and replied, “Will do.”

She looked him right in the eyes and added, “Soon!”

They formed up and walked in behind the mayor and his entourage of showgirls.

The television coverage switched to a car wreck on the 405 and Foxy clicked off the TV. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she said.

“What’s wrong?” her girlfriend asked.

Throwing the remote down on the bed, Foxy fell back as a tear ran down her cheek. “I completely forgot about the Mayor’s Charity Ball and Awards Ceremony tonight. If Larry wasn’t pissed at me before, he will be now! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“What’s he got to be mad about? It looks like he has two beautiful women, one on each arm,” her girlfriend asked.

“Face, it’s all about face and that’s terribly important to Larry. I’m not there with him and now I’ve fucked up big time. This could be trouble,” she said as she rolled over and cried into her pillow.

End of Excerpt from House Party


Don’t worry boys and girls, I’m sure things will work out in the end. I’m not exactly sure how this will end up but hopefully, this will not be my first non-HEA story. I’m really trying to get this one out the door as I’ve made a commitment to myself to publish more often. What usually happens is that we’ll be at a party or on the Strip and I’ll see something that sparks a story idea, which ends up sidetracking me but I’m not going to do that, this time! Sure, who am I trying to kid?

About LarryArcher

Larry Archer's the name, smut's my game. I am a writer of erotic literature that's generally always HEA (Happily Ever After), which typically involves no regrets sex. I write in a humorous style with a plot and suitable for reading with one hand. My stories are full of sexual situations that are often taken straight from our swinger lifestyle in Las Vegas. If you want to enjoy erotica, where every page is dripping with action, give me a try.
This entry was posted in adult, am writing, banned, bareback, Erotic Stories, erotica, foxy and larry, gangbang, humorous, Larry Archer, Las Vegas, masturbation, NSFW, sexy girls, Strip Clubs, Swinging, The Fox's Den, voyeurism, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Trouble in River City, Folks!

  1. lisabetsarai says:

    This is so funny! I love the picture you draw of the mayor, not to mention Larry arriving in his massive SUV instead of a limo.

    “She remembered being shocked at the price tag and wondered why the less you got, the more you paid. ” — great line!

    Keep up the good work!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. LarryArcher says:

    Thanks for the kind words!

    Like

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