NEWSLETTER

Orgasmo
It was my birthday, and I was sitting at work. I always like to do something on my birthday—I hate birthday parties, but I like to do something else to spoil myself. It’s Friday afternoon, I’m sitting at work and I’m like, “I want to do something,” so I decide I should go to my house in Argentina.

I call up the airline, and I have enough air miles or whatever so that I don’t have to pay for it, and so I say, “Fuck it, I’m going to go down.” They say, “OK, well there’s one leaving in two hours.” So I get in a taxicab with nothing, and just go straight to the airport and fly down. I get there and there’s a hotel which is also a casino. I tell myself, “I’m not going to gamble this time. I’m kind of tired. I’m just not going to go downstairs at all.”

I check in and I go up to my room. I’m lying there in bed and I hear the slot machines going off: “Dingdingding dongdongdongding” all over like madness, so I’m like, “Maybe I’ll just go down and play a few hands.” I go down and order a rum and start playing some blackjack. Cut to two hours later: I’m surrounded by about 50 women. Every time you get $500 they give you a chit, and I’m just covered in chits, they’re falling out of my pants. So they all see this—and this is like two years’ salary to them—they just see this drunk American dude with chits falling out of his pants. Since it was my birthday, I go, “OK, you, you, you, you, and you.” I pick five girls. And one of the girls—the one I later called Orgasmo—I said to her and one of the others, “You go get an ounce of blow, and you get a case of champagne.” I gave them a few chits each and then I went up to my room. I want to mention that these girls were NOT hookers. They were just local girls with shitty jobs who come to the casino at night looking for guys with money to pay for them to party. If you all end up fucking, so be it. If you give them some money as a gift, so be that too. But they are not hookers by any means.

All presenter photos by Patrick O’Dell. Styling by Sara McCormack. Mauricio: Y’s suit and shirt.

So we go up to my room, and there’s like a mountain of blow on the table. It’s like Scarface or something. We’re drinking champagne and I start naming everybody. The reason I called the one girl Orgasmo is because she took off all her clothes right away and started snorting coke. She’d just snort a big, huge line then start rubbing her pussy furiously going, “Orgasmo, orgasmo.” So her name was pretty easy. Then there was this one who was actually Colombian called Love and Rockets. I called her Love and Rockets after the comic because she had big, huge tits then a narrow waist, then a big, huge ass. I can’t remember what I named the other ones, fucking Lolita and Puss ’n Boots or something.

So we get down to it, and we’re fucking, and I’m like the guy from the Bolshoi—you know how he’d get them to put a pencil in their ass to choreograph them because that was the only way he could get them to work? I’m like, “You suck her ass, and then you lick my ass, and then you put your toe in her fucking pussy, or whatever.” So I’m doing all that and fucking them, and then I come or whatever. But I’ve been doing a lot of blow, right? I’ve got these five horny girls in my room and all this champagne and stuff, but I can’t get a boner anymore cause I’ve just come and I’m on half of fucking Bolivia. So you’re sitting there going, “Well, what can you do?” Well, of course there’s watersports, as is my proclivity.

So I go into the bathroom with Lolita and Puss ’n Boots, and I’m in there with the shower going and they’re just pissing. Pissing on me as I whack off, pissing on my knees, whatever. I sort of get a little wired and I put my leg through the wall of the shower. I kick out and put a hole in the wall. But who cares? The pissing keeps going, I bring in the B-team—more piss. Water’s coming down. So this keeps going for a while and then I hear this BANG!! Cops come into my room, with all these nude girls and massive amounts of blow.

What’s happened is, the water’s gone down into the hole that I’ve kicked in the shower wall, down the elevator shaft to where the one-armed bandits are, and shorted out all the slot machines in the casino. So they were banging on my door to try and get me, but a) the music’s too loud, and b) I’m way back in the bathroom with the water going and two girls squealing as they piss on my knees, so I don’t hear anything.

So they’ve called the cops, and the cops come in and I’m standing there naked looking like the father from An Officer and a Gentleman with all these young girls around. Now I have to pay off the cops—which is always a delicate situation—and to make matters more difficult I’ve hidden all my money. I’d rolled it up in a bunch of different towels and hid it in a bunch of toilet-paper tubes, cause I didn’t want to get rolled with so much fucking money—five local girls means five sets of sneaky fingers. So I’m surreptitiously taking the money out of the towels, the cops finally leave, and we’re all just sitting there like it’s the calm after the storm. Like, “What do we do now?”

Puss ’n Boots and Lolita leave, Love and Rockets sort of hangs out for a bit then leaves, but Orgasmo isn’t going anywhere. So, I’ll never forget, she sat down to take a piss, and I put my balls on the rim of the shitter, and the coolness of the porcelain just cooling my balls down—I just let fly right into her pussy as she pissed. Then she got a bit mad at me, because I was so into the pissing and was like, “Drink your own piss, baby,” and she got sort of freaked out. But still she wouldn’t leave, she wanted to keep the party going.

Anyways, I’m sitting there, wired for sound with Orgasmo, and I’m like, “Maybe we’ll go back downstairs for a bit.” So we go downstairs to play a bit more, it’s like four or five in the morning—the sun is imminent—and I’m supposed to be going to my house to relax, but I’m still in the casino. We go downstairs to sit in the casino, and I last about five minutes before I meet another five girls—completely different set of five—and Orgasmo fucks them all in different ways. And I don’t even bother whacking off at this point, cause I’m fucking gone, so I’m just sitting there snorting coke with my big fat belly, drinking wine going, “Lick her pussy. Lick her ass. Now, you lick her pussy as she licks your pussy. Lick her ass. Put that plunger in her ass.” I have them doing sort of bathroom things, like plunging their asses with the plunger from the toilet. Then the second army of chicks all leaves, and I’m still sitting there sort of wired and Orgasmo still won’t leave. She just sits there snorting coke and rubbing her pussy. This is after she’s been like the general of the evening, getting all the troops in line, and she’s still rubbing her pussy and going “Orgasmo, orgasmo,” as she’s snorting coke.

I don’t sleep—I just get in a taxi to the airport, fly to my house, sleep for three days, then wake up just crying at the debauch I’d got up to.

JOHN JONES


CONTINUED:
ROMANCE | 1 | 2 | 3 | Next>

< PREV

MORE FROM THIS ISSUE

NEXT >

POST A COMMENT [SIGN IN] Hi, in case you haven't heard, you can now sign up to become a "member" of Viceland.com, which entitles you to all sorts of amazing benefits like pictures and a nickname. Click here to make your own profile. You can still comment if you don't, but you gotta do it all 'nonymously.

Name:
Comment: