The Randy Romance Novelist(76)
As if it was an Egyptian Prince being carted out on a gold throne, four women held the dong bong above their head and escorted it to Delaney.
I hated that I had gotten the stupid thing now. All I wanted to do was get to the pi?ata and then go home; I was tired, irritable, and ready to try to begin my plan on Henry.
But instead, I was watching the four women unwrap a funnel from the package, which happened to be connected to a tube that turned into a plastic penis with an opening big enough for liquid to flow through.
“Line up, ladies. We are going to do a domino effect. We need a constant holder and pourer. The rest of you, get in a line and face the dong. We are going to run up and down the line while the cum drink flows out. Open your mouths wide; it’s time to get dong-bonged.”
I watched from a distance as everyone listened to her, lined up, put their hands behind their backs and opened their mouths. Three ladies volunteered to be the holder of the dong and the pourer. The kitchen staff was on point and had pitchers ready to be poured down the dong funnel. I wondered what they must be thinking. This entire night didn’t even feel real.
“On three!” Delaney shouted. “One, two, three! Guzzle!”
The signature drink was poured into the funnel and the penis hose part was run up and down the line, splashing everyone in the mouth. I wondered to myself if I wasn’t completely sober or had a child growing inside of me if I would have enjoyed such a game.
Alcoholic beverage poured everywhere, bouncing off faces and chests, and I confirmed that nope, I would not enjoy this game . . . at all.
While they tried out the dong bong, I talked to the kitchen staff about raising the giant penis. Just two more things, the pi?ata and the stripper, who was going to arrive shortly, that was why I was trying to move the party along.
The staff was kind enough to help me raise the pi?ata on one of the exposed beams. I told them we wouldn’t need to have to anyone move it around. Given the amount of alcohol consumed already, they would have a hard enough time making contact.
I made a circle around the hung penis—no pun intended—and started escorting ladies around it. Delaney walked over to the pi?ata, the penis tube detached from the funnel was now fastened around her neck like a piece of jewelry.
“Don’t you just love my delicate necklace? It’s so delicate, isn’t it?” she asked while showing off her gem, as if she was selling it on QVC.
“Just divine,” I humored her.
Sticking up from her cleavage was Cletus, the miniature blowup doll I got for her. She aptly named him Cletus, since he spent the entire night stuffed between her boobs. He helped her carve, pin, and when she wasn’t clinging on for dear life to the giant penis, she was waving him around in the air like a lasso. Just as I suspected, Cletus made her night.
“If everyone can gather around before we get started with the pi?ata, that would be great.” No one listened to me. “Everyone listen up,” I shouted a little louder. Nope, that didn’t help. “Hey cumquats!” I screamed, startling everyone. I cleared my throat, now that I had everyone’s attention. “Thank you. I want to remind you all the, uh . . . authorities will be here shortly to arrest Delaney for being a very naughty girl.”
“Oh, I’m terrified,” Delaney feigned and giggled.
“So, we have to bust this penis open fast. A quick reminder, please don’t start gathering your items from the penis until we are done breaking it open. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, and don’t forget to put on your dickwear to protect your eyes.”
“We’re not children,” Delaney said, grabbing the stick from me and knocking it on the ground a couple of times. “Watch out, ladies. It’s time this penis gets whacked off.”
Shoving me out of the way, I stumbled into the wall and watched as Delaney worked the crowd, asking them to raise the noise in the room by shouting, “Beat that meat. Beat that meat.”
“Let me hear it, ladies.” Delaney walked around in the circle, putting her hand to her ear, trying to make their screeches deafening.
Within the blink of an eye, Delaney raised the stick above her head, called out a war cry and started beating the paper hair right off the poor thing.
Smack after smack, the penis swung around, getting massacred by a drunken phallic-infatuated woman adorned with a cock bong as a scarf, and a blowup doll in her cleave.
The staff and I all stood back, pretty much terrified for what was about to ensue. There was no stopping her; I had lost all control of the party, and if the crowd of ladies started to tear down the building, the only thing I could do was apologize and maybe offer up Sir Licks-a-Lot as an apology—anything to get rid of him.
Delaney’s arms flew around like a Jedi in an epic battle, and just when I thought she was going to give up, she grabbed the bottom half of the stick, raised it over her head like a sword, and stabbed the hell out of the balls of the pi?ata. After two stabs, one single cock ring fell out.
The room silenced. Delaney tossed the stick to someone on the side and dropped down to the floor on her knees. With both hands, she lifted the cock ring above her head as if it was the body of Christ and shouted, “It’s a cock ring!”
Her battle howl rang through the room, all the women in awe.
Before I could stop her, Delaney tore the penis off its string, ripped the head of the cock off—I cringed for Derk—and placed the base of the penis at her hips. In a circular motion, she started thrusting the giant cock at everyone, spilling cock rings and condoms all over the place.