Toolies, those way too old to be at school, chase nubile arse partying at the end of college.
We are a daddy's worst nightmare.
Though, we stick clear of bait.
The mere mention of Toolies makes mothers cry. Though whether it's for their daughters or what they missed out on themselves, only over-randy MILFs could tell you that.
We Toolies in our forties are critical to the rite of passage between college and the sexual freedom of further education or the predatory male world of the office. Nubile college graduates need their arses broken in before they hit the workplace or University dorms.
Gold Coast Schoolies week: My Toolie mate and I mark it on the calendar.
Thank Christ, it's post-covid.
We book our accommodation months in advance as the pamphlets warn the nubiles that we have all the pickup tricks. But the truth is we can only pick up chicks who are ready to take sex to the next level beyond their short-fuse, premature ejaculation college boyfriends.
And even if their boyfriends tag along to schoolies: the useless pricks get lost in a booze fest, and their girlfriend's pussies suffer.
The lasses come to The Strip for sex —they will find us — they will find sex. They want the wild, lustful filthy guy as their arsehole cracker.
There were getting more and more of those supposedly safe schoolie designated zones along the Queensland Gold Coast beach strip and more of those uptight, self-righteous, sex-starved religio types distributing pamphlets full of dire warnings about going too far in schoolies week.
Warnings about toolies, yes, we were listed in the dirty dozen, along with drugs, unprotected sex and binge drinking…and… well, ask a prude to complete the list.
Hamish and I could bide our time. The libidinous adventurous girls couldn't be contained to their beach-safe zone. They weren't here at schoolies to be safe.
They were here to live, and we understood how to make their young bodies live, sparkle and moan.
Hamish and I were at a bar opposite the beach.
Roving our eyes through the endless parade of eye candy swaggering past, most of it barely covered because of the sultry, early summer evening.
Genuine warmth was exuding and extruding from nubile girls on heat.
We saw our opportunity.
Two girls were alone, crossing from the beach, toolie-free zone, to the open-licensed establishment, where we relaxed at the bar.
They both had the obligatory blondish streaks through their hair—cute sex-seeking smiles.
One wore a black crop top. God, her navel innie drove me wild.
The other lass wore a summer floral dress. Barely constraining her bra-free tits.
They giggled across the road, uselessly clinking plastic booze cups as they walked straight into a toolie lair.
One was about five-three, the other maybe five-seven, but they both had clunky big heels. No stocking, thank God for Queensland [ or American readers, praise the Lord for California and Florida] and probably only the tightest G-strings.
As if it would be cottontails in a place like this or on a muggy night.
It was a night for stripping off.
Clothes are defined as a nuisance.
The two chicks showed their ID at the bar.
Hamish and I nodded.
Yes, they looked young, but they obviously weren't underage. They ordered their mixed girly drinks and came out onto the patio area, looking back over the main drag to the beach. The schoolie zone, but they were out of it, and now it was toolie playtime.
We are sharks and circled fast.
Hell, other toolies are here.
We surround the two nubiles on their high stools. Hamish is on their left. I'm on their right. Cunning as foxes about to take chicks.
No, I don't prefer the lass next to me over her girlfriend. Hamish and I are seasoned pros who are direct in corralling our pleasure.
The tartlets are giggling because they are sharing a pamphlet.
They are discussing "Toolies."
"Perfect timing," I said.
"Yeah, I'm just reading about how to avoid a dirty, sleazy perv like you," responds the girl next to me
She was flirting, facing me, legs uncrossed, and her voice was full of smutty undertones.
She's had enough of boys. This girl wants a man.
"Mmm," said Hamish, "It is always good to know exactly what you are getting."
The girl beside him said, "True, but I can't see all that I'm going to get," her hand massaging my mate's groin.
The lucky bastard appeared to have scored the extra slutty one.
Or had he?
The chick beside me swivelled on her high bar stool and spread her legs, allowing her short floral dress to creep up her thighs.
It takes a lot to surprise a seasoned toolie like me, but eighteen and no panties, shaved and as flappy fleshed as this one.
I admit I wasn't prepared.
Maybe the hunters were the hunted here!
It was clear they had both had a couple of drinks during the evening, but only enough to be primed for uninhibited sex.
Their senses were heightened to alert.
It's a no-brainer why they can't get it on the beach—young guys and alcohol. The guys who could have tried to get in bed with them had already had a six-pack on a six-pack. Too many beers to get it up; keep it up or avoid chucking up.
These two college graduates knew we were toolies, and they wanted our tools. The literature tells them what we are here for. The pamphlets unintentionally act as a guidebook for young sluts.
Hamish pashes the girl next to him in the black crop top. His face melded into the mademoiselle. His hand is under her black mini. It's public indecency, but everyone is full of themselves on these hot nights and, luckily, doesn't notice.
The cutie beside her in her flimsy floral dress said, with her legs still open, "It's Kitty."
"Oh, I already knew that," I replied, "Glad to see your kitty. Can we go to my apartment for a closer introduction? Kitty can meet Dick."
"You nit…my name is Kitty, as in short for Kathleen, and I bet your name isn't Richard?"
"Well, it is," I said, "And it's a handy name, too — just like Kitty."
She smiled.
She liked where the associations were leading.
She lewdly articulated it by shaping her mouth in a big O and running her tongue tip over her lips: "Dick and Kitty…Nice…Oh, let's go…Now."
Now was good.
It takes little time at Schoolies.
Hamish had Ms Lucy Stirling around the waist as we walked along the street. Then his hand groped her arse, and her hand rubbed his butt through his jean back pocket.
Our destination was a short distance from the bar.
Ms Kathleen Hardy was whispering dirty stuff in my ear.
She revved my brain and my cock up for immediate sex.
"You dirty perv…chasing young pussy. You sleazy bugger…chasing slit…hot for my young pussy. You can't wait, can you? My purry kitty waiting patiently. It's been waiting all day for tonight. You better be a bad, bad Dick for my Kitty."
Hamish and I shared a quality serviced apartment. It had an excellent, spacious layout. We presented very tidily, and nothing left a wrong impression.
My mate, Hamish, is at his third schoolies at thirty-eight. I'm at my fifth at forty-one.
The stakes for sex at Schoolies are very high, and like a casino, we stack the odds in favour of the house.
The lights were already set to an alluring dim, but make no mistake; we could still see everything we wanted.
"I'd offer you a drink, but I don't think you need it or want it," I said.
Kitty didn't answer me.
Wanton trollop, she dropped her dress.
No bra. No panties. No pubes.
Hamish had his finger in Lucy's pussy on the other side of the room.
My rapid pacing lagged behind my mates tonight.
Kitty went the full pash. Tongues lush, saliva slush, mouths engulfed in spit.
I loved how stripped — she kept her heels on—delightful black ankle straps.
My fingers slid over her fleshy flaps of sleek spreading wetness and then eased into her slit. Two fingers spread her inner muscle tunnel. A lass both moist and ready.
Ms Hardy removed my shirt, my belt undone, and my trousers and boxers off.
Intent on sharing my cock without any distracting clothes.
Hamish was naked and being sucked off on the lounge, and I was sucked off mid-room.
There is the standard head job and the premium act of fellatio. Believe me, there is a distinction.
Kitty was instantly intimate with my dick. She had her full gob around my nob. Sucking where the pleasure for a guy is intensified.
She had the whole head bobbing sway of girly enjoyment. She did the full deep-throat slide so quickly.
Saucy bitch, just showing off!
Still, I groaned my appreciation for her enthusiasm, "Orrgh, yes, babe. Orrgh, yes, perfect. Orrgh, orrgh, orrgh!"
She understood grasping the shaft — as she sucked and sucked.
She was a practitioner of ball happiness. Fondling, cupping, lightly squeezing and sensationally licking and re-licking my nuts.
She put her hands on my rear end and pushed my cock in and out of her mouth.
I naughtily held her ears and joined her pacing. Fast and deep.
And Ms Kitty made sexy eye contact with me.
Her blue pupils said, I'm a dirty skank, but loving it!
My eye contact back: I'm so happy…your Kitty will get the first-class treatment.
The lounge scene was equally good. Hamish's head lay buried between Lucy's legs. He was hitting all the right spots because she was moaning repeatedly.
"Ooh, yes, ooh yes, ooh yes," the little minx moaned.
I had Kitty's wonderfully designed cock space in my immediate view.
However, it was my tongue that said: 'Hello Kitty.'
I played inside and outside her vagina while licking her clit with soft broad strokes. The feather touch truly drives a woman insane.
Soft, cushy, finger curling, fantastic delight leading to mushy leaky elation.
Heaps of spit mixing with her, so obvious, drippy girly juices.
I hooked my fingers inside her and hit her G-spot.
She did the moany writhe.
"Ooh, God, yes, ooh, fuck yes! Oh my, yes, yes, yes! Ooh, ooh, ooh."
Kitty Harding's pussy launched into new territory.
I eased back my face because I wanted to see her face.
The absolute spreading bliss pleasure as I got her two critical spots simultaneously.
Her G and her C.
I used her flappy lips and clit cowl to massage her pink bead. Pressing her lips together. Kneading her clitty in the provoking circular motion.
Not directly on her clit but surrounding her bead with overbearing pressure, driving the tart to sexual delirium.
Ah, girls take time to get there. Patience is needed on the female climax journey. You have to stay the course, and toolies are patient men guiding nubiles to body-smashing and brain-detonating orgasms.
Kitty pushed her private kitten towards me.
"Ooh, ooh, ooh! Oh fuck, I'm cumming, I'm cumming. Orrgh, orrgh, Orrgh! Aah, ahh, ahh!"
Boy, was she effusive?
And there is only one way to finish a woman off, and that's like a guy.
Yes, treat her swollen clit like a mini penis and suck the mass of nerve endings to the high heavens — off her body.
Ms Harding clasped my head in a near vice grip. She was complete in her pleasure saturation.
"Ohh…Orrhh…Orrgh…Oh, fuck me…OH My GOD!" she went as she climaxed and female ejaculated.
A sloshing flood of enjoyment that caught us both by surprise.
I thought gushing a porn myth.
I'll tell you… it ain't…and Kitty, by the look on her face… didn't know what her body had done either…but she liked it…really liked it.
Lucy was just as shocked, adding: "Wow sweetie…amazing…amazing," before Hamish regained her attention with a dirty dogging.
Ms Stirling's arse draped unceremoniously vulnerably across the arm of the sofa.
Kitty, in turn, got her private kitty stuffed.
Spread eagled was an excellent starting position. She bucked back into me from her hips. I initiated robust thrusts from my pelvis. We both enjoyed a great connection in the rhythmic sexual jolting of my cock into her body.
Instinctive, instinctual and inviting.
Dogging her, we had the sweet bump and grind. The lurch start, then the ungainly jerks. Followed by the cock whammy in her tight pussy channel.
The delightful yank and wrench. The tugging out of her pussy skin from her body. The filling inward drive of hard dick shaped her coochie. But more importantly, expanding the pleasure in her mind.
You want her head in this.
Her pussy is a given…it will respond … it's designed for that…you want her thoughts centred…concentrated on your cock…till her mind empties…till the only thing filling her mind and pussy is your cock.
There is that wrestling snatching of combined excited genitals. They feed off each other. They build sensation in and out of each other's shape and giving.
You are a toolie banging a schoolie!
Of course, you finger her waiting, so far denied, sweet, puckered butt hole.
Her pink-rilled starfish was as sweetly enticing as a rosebud.
"Oh, My God…Wow…Orrrhh…Yes…Mmm…Mmm…Shit, that's good…Orh…ohhh," she yelps.
Then suddenly, you get your toolie school bombshell — despite all her bravado slutiness.
Christ, oh yes, she's an anal virgin.
Well, a Toolies calling is breaking nubiles in — for the enjoyment of a lifetime.
"Oh, careful…I like it…but I've never been butt fucked," Kitty implores.
There is a hint of fear in her voice, but there's a more significant hint of want and need — the need to know.
If not me, probably the next frickin bastard who catches her in a randy mood.
Hamish is fingering Lucy's back crack, and she, too, wants it — but is worried it will hurt.
"Oh, I want a butt fuck like my girlfriend, but be gentle, please!"
My mate kissed her tenderly, gaining her consent, and then mauled her arse.
Ms Stirling won't remember a gentle introduction to anal. She is a tart and craves the arsehole blast!
The more my mate gawps, spits, and digs his fingers in her tight crack, the more Ms Stirling moans.
"Ooh, my! Ooh, ooh, yes! Fuck yes, oh yes! Fuck yes!"
Meantime, I pry directly into Kitty's arse with my fingers. I expanded it, then gouged my way in because I wanted her to embed it in her eternal memory.
"Orrgh shit, oh yeah, fuck yeah, fuck yes," she moans, echoing her girlfriend.
Suddenly, she has my pecker, and it's fat and filling.
My cock dominates her petite stretched opening. I plunge into her butt without mercy. Total cock in butt compression as I hollow out a space for my cock.
The pleasure escalates insanely for two in a slot where it just shouldn't fit. Supposedly, where it shouldn't be. Our deceitful, avaricious bodies.
The forbidden hole delivers wild, unexpected joy to a nubile.
She'll be a back crack addict for life.
"Ooh, fuck, ooh, fuck, ooh fuck me! Ooh, ohhh, fuck, ooh, fuck," she yelps, screeches and squeals.
I shovel into her arse. Then scoop her sphincter back outwards with my cock. A delirium of pleasure.
She is beyond tight.
Skintight on my cock shaft.
My pecker clasped by her cute butthole. Gawped but flexed to hold.
A mesmerising sight to look down at. I see my rod held in her unyielding butt, tighter than a G-string yanked between butt cheeks.
Is butt designed for cock?
Try telling that to your cock and her butt in the unfolding bodily-altering, ribald-dirty pleasure sequence.
Oh, it is dirty.
Oh, it is filthy.
But it truly has to be experienced regularly. The full jizz creaming of a tight, tight, nubile arsehole.
Cum pumped in her arse. Injected deep. Inserted in her rilled puckered starfish.
A toolie, schoolie special.
Hamish was there slightly before me.
Lucy's gaped dribbling cummed arse. My mate had a glorious sweet arse too.
As gloopy cum dribbled from her tender, raw pinkness, it held its own against any wondrous natural wonder in the world.
As did Ms Kitty Harding's assuaged happy arse, as it oozed a long sticky, tacky stringy gob of jizz. Her crack winked, and cum seeped out of her constricted hole.
We all tidied up — got to love an apartment with two bathrooms.
Lucy and Hamish in one shower. Kitty and Dick, naturally, in the other.
Next, we all shared a drink on the balcony overlooking the beach, where a small fireworks display was in progress.
To tell you the truth, the pyrotechnics were boring.
The four of us needed more. A way lot more.
"Let's hit a club," I said, "And come back here — again — later."
Lucy and Kitty nodded at my suggestion.
We entered the elevator as a foursome.
In the metallic glint of the lift, I saw my Janus face.
Past sex is past sex. There is only present and future sex.
Our sex lives are our soul.
I strangely recall the end of a novel I studied at college many moons ago: Joyce's A Portrait —Something about life and encountering the reality of experience for the millionth time.
Mmm, experience — you need it as a toolie — but where did it start?
Once, I was a sexual acolyte schoolie, too.
We were all virgins once!