Holding it by the neck, he angled it to one side, so that the bottom edge could poke into me like a wedge. He rubbed it up and down between my lips a little, moving the coldness to a new spot every couple of seconds. He was steadily pushing it harder against me, and starting to focus on the entrance to my pussy. He stopped sliding it around, and increased the pressure. As I’d done earlier tonight with my ass, I was now trying to relax my pussy.
“Yeah, there you go, let it in.”
He spun it a little as he worked it into me. The bottom of the bottle wasn’t totally smooth, it had little bumps or ridges, and I could feel each one as they rubbed against the sensitive opening. I felt my pussy being stretched open, and as Garvey pushed a little harder, the entire bottom of the bottle slid into me.
“Ok, bitch, looks like your twat is wide enough. Let’s see if it’s deep enough.”
He pushed it in another inch or two, and I gasped at the chilling sensation. First my tits and now my pussy — what was it with this guy and cold? He kept pushing, and I moaned into my ball-gag as the hard, icy bottle invaded the depths of my soft opening. The metal walls of the bottle were doing a great job of conveying the cold into my wet, and previously warm, pussy.
He stopped with the wide part of the bottle about half-way in, then pulled it all the way out. I gasped at the sudden emptiness, and lack of the coldness I had just been getting used to. He wasn’t done, though, just teasing me I guess, because a few seconds later he worked it back in. It was easier this time, as I was still stretched, but the expression on his face made it clear he was enjoying inserting it into me again.
This time he didn’t stop at the half-way point. Slow and steady, he kept pushing it in until my pussy held the entire length of the wide section. I felt the cold radiating through my pelvis, stinging at first and then slowly becoming a little numb.
“I think you can take more,” he said. He was breathing fast, and his dick looked rock-hard. Once again he took the time to give it a few strokes with his other hand. He resumed pushing, and didn’t stop until I screamed into the ball-gag as the bottle encountered what had to be noticeable resistance to further progress.
“Look at that.” He motioned Damon over for a closer look. There was pride in his voice as he said, “Got it in there far enough her pussy can close around the neck of this beer.”
He looked at me, and said, “You want to see it sticking out of your slutty cunt?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, as he let go of the bottle and came around to where he could grab a handful of my hair, and use it to roughly tilt my head up off the bed. I looked down, and could just barely see the short length of the neck of the bottle that still protruded from my pussy. It did look and even feel like the entrance to my pussy had contracted down to grip the bottle’s narrow neck.
“Hey, I only had a few swigs — she’s got more beer in her than I do in me.” He laughed like he’d told the best joke ever, and Damon responded with a laugh that was clearly just out of politeness.
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