Milked by the Yeti | I’m writing this online day by day | #EARTG #SSRTG #MrBrtg | Witness it in installments, like TV — PART III —

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Callie Press and Moctezuma Johnson take turns helping the Yeti Milk Lena in this Fantasy Erotica featuring the Abominable Snowman

Milked by the Yeti

by Moctezuma Johnson

Yes, I’ll write this piece online so you can see the slow, stupid process I am stuck with thanks to brain damage, deafness, and incessant masturbation
    • Beats: Cut away from the Yeti cave and radika standing there with a knife ready to murder Lena and move to the backstory of Natasha with the ex and how she feels. When she hears about the bus coming back from the mountain because of horrible weather with Lena not onboard she decides to do something

 

MILKED BY THE YETI

Installment 1 :: Installment 2 :: Installment 3

 

These two hot-ass Russian chicks, I mean they were just teens at the time, landed in Bangkok. They were plucked from their little town. The twin hotties, that was their nickname. They were always together back home. In Bangkok they were together again: dancing and making money at high-end strip clubs that catered to international business executives. They both enjoyed their share of managers, team leaders, financial officers, and executive officers. They twinned a good slice of politicians, both Asian and Western as well. They learned that Asians held Russian prostitutes as the Holy Grail of Prostitutes. Fucking a Russian was a feather in the cap, a badge of honor, a move up in social rank. These fat cat Asian dudes would sit on the floor with their little bottle of cheap liquor, eat fried pork, take shots, and brag about the Russians they’d paid to fuck. They learned that their sweet little Russian twats were the bulls-eye on a male target of accomplishment. Their tits and asses were instrumental to camaraderie. Business deals would cease to exist without Natasha and Lena. They were intricate parts of world politics. Natasha and Lena were possibly the most prized Russians in Bangkok.

They made so much money they were economically and geographically mobile. They moved to the US to repeat the Bangkok trick. This time the money was considerably more but the conditions were considerably more deplorable.

The US had different social rules and a Russian whore was no longer a feather in anyone’s cap. Maybe it was privately but it wasn’t something bragged about in boardrooms.

Natasha and Lena were absolutely best friends still, so together they endured the racism, classism, and all other slights. Together. They were inseparable. They drank together, worked together, fucked together, and dated together. Then they both got domestic together. They each found husbands and Lena was quite happy with hers. For some reason Natasha, even after all the whoring, just wanted to fuck around. She didn’t last long with her husband. She thought that she could just play around on him behind his back yet stay happily married. Guys gossip as much as any sewing circle, the little cunts, and word about Natasha traveled and embarrassed her husband to the point that he left her.

Natasha got severely lonely. She got drunk a lot. She fucked a lot.

Lena’s husband, Vlad, took notice of her. He found that her man’s libido in her sexy woman’s body was unbelievably fucking hot. Like Natasha’s ex-husband, Vlad was attracted to the tall blonde with the model’s body, but unlike the ex-husband he was also attracted to the must-consume all pleasure attitude. Lena’s husband was legitimately a good match for Natasha mentally. This was the problem. This was how Natasha and Vlad ended up getting together and ruining a pretty solid marriage and a friendship that was more intimate than sisterhood. 

“I’m sorry baby,” Lena’s husband said to her. “I really understand Natasha. I want to be with her.”

“If it’s just the sex, you can fuck her all you want,” Lena said. “I don’t mind. I get it.”

“The sex is amazing, yes, but it’s more than that. It’s her character, her soul. Natasha’s just so unabashedly what she is. I respect that. I love you, Lena. I do. I always will. I will miss you. But this just has to end. I still want the best for you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I understand,” Lena said. She didn’t cry at the time. It was weird because as heartbreaking and ego-shattering as it was to lose a husband and a marriage, it was also somehow vindicating to know that her husband loved Natasha as much as Lena did. It was a little incestuous triangle affair. Lena understood it. A threesome had always been fine with her. It was the soulmate shit that surprised her. She couldn’t fight it. She could just accept it.

She would always be the “big tit plaything.” She was the fun opening act and Natasha was the main draw. Lena was a whore because she needed the money when she sold her body for sex. Natasha was a different breed. She needed the sex, the attempt to sate a constant insatiable pleasure, and the money was no more than a way to gauge how much sex she was getting and if it was even close to enough. Lena fucking respected Natasha too. And she hated her. Natasha had slutted herself so completely out that it left Lena as the bigger whore.

 

In the Yeti’s cave, Lena dreamed of Natasha. She saw her best-friend’s golden hair down her back, her perfect ass with its unimaginable smooth skin, and her shaved slit. She saw Natasha bent over sucking her husband’s cock while Lena licked her best friend’s golden pussy. It was a beautiful dream. Everyone was happy. Everyone was permeated by love and lust.

When she opened her eyes, it was dark and bitterly cold. She was still naked in the grasp of the Yeti. She felt something watching her and blinked until she noticed that a woman was standing in front of her. She blinked again trying to shake the image, but it was real and only a few feet in front of her. The apparition was dressed in a sari, and had a gold chain between nose ring and earring. She was thick as a pear, with hips and ass exploding out of a very skinny torso. She was the color of milk chocolate. She held a knife and was trembling. Lena realized that again she was in deep trouble. She could smell this woman’s curry breath. It was hot on her frigid face. The woman, she noticed, was about to murder them. Lena screamed on top of her lungs.

What happened was worse than she could have even imagined.

 

Back home, Natasha heard news of Lena from one of Vlad’s friends, the one who organized the mountain trek with big-titted whore. Natasha heard that Lena was brought to have fun with these business executives as they got riled up on adrenaline, drugs, alcohol, and Lena’s eggplant tits. She also heard that Lena wasn’t on the bus back down the mountain. She heard that this winter was the worst one in years. She heard that her old friend was up there all alone with no thermals. What the fuck? They left her with nothing but a thong? bus-himalayas-milked-by-the-yeti-erotica

Natasha shook violently for a second. Then she steadied herself carefully. Natasha may have stolen her best friend’s man and taken her place as his cocksucker, anal pig, and wife, but she was still best able to empathize with Lena than anyone. Natasha and Lena’s roles were different at the very moment, but that was a small little fart in the bowels of the universe. How easily their fates could have been switched.

Natasha looked at her new husband, “Give me your credit card.” He stared at her blankly until she yelled, “Now!”

 

 

3 Comments

  1. Pingback: Milked by the Yeti | I’m writing this online day by day | #EARTG #SSRTG #MrBrtg | Witness it in installments, like TV — PART IV — | Literary Porn Hardcore Erotica

  2. Pingback: Milked by the Yeti | Live on LiteraryPorn.net | #LPRTG #EARTG @calliepress lol | Moctezuma Johnson

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