Monday, September 29, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Tube Top Pilates - Watch more free videos
Wow! Where is this studio located? Hottie heaven? I'd be a lot more motivated to improve my core strength and mobility if these lovely ladies were participating!
Shit who am I kidding? I'd be sitting in a lounge chair with a beer and enjoying the show!
Friday, September 26, 2008
The next morning, I met Mr. Naughtypants, AKA Mr. Irving, early to go over the reports and help him organize his materials.
The dildo shimmied across my thigh when I walked and it was as exciting as all fuck. I'd loosened the harness to let it hang slightly on my leg, the wool fabric of my skirt disguising the rise of it nicely. I'd practiced on Marsha after our little shopping trip – she said the cock felt so real under my skirt, she was certain she could feel it throbbing when I rubbed up against her ass.
"Here you are Mr. Irving," I said, handing Mr. Greedycock his coffee. "Thanks hon," he said, grinning his nervous, "it's up to you ladies to prevent me from making an ass of myself" grin. "Love your power suit." He sipped at his coffee and laid the reports out on the conference room table.
Marsha and Ellen showed up with the PowerPoint projector and a fresh pot of coffee. Marsha handed me a package of whiteboard markers.
"The pens you ordered Mr. Irving," I said, moving closer. "We searched far and wide until we found the special-order colors you asked for -- scented yellow and black. Banana and licorice…..licorice whip, that is." When I said the word "whip," I hissed it slowly in a loud whisper. I tilted my body forward, pressing my upper thigh and the dildo into his leg. I looked up at him and winked. He stared, mouth open, startled, as I lightly ran my fingers along the edge of the cock so he could just see the outline of it through my skirt.
"Now then, I announced, spinning around quickly and raising my eyebrows at Martha. "Looks like we're ready to roll."
Mr. Bigcock twitched his way through the presentation, nervously keeping an eye on my skirt for signs of arousal. As the meeting wrapped up, he began to relax, most certainly imagining himself getting lucky with my dick in his ass on top of the conference room table with Marsha and Ellen dripping into his mouth.
"Mr. Irving," we need just a moment. Would you mind?
Mr. Bigcock checked his watch and took another eye swipe at my crotch. I swayed my hips a little for his benefit.
"Just five minutes, just a quickie," Marsha said, an evil smirk on her lips.
"Sure, five minutes, five hours, whatever you need."
I shut the conference room door and locked it.
"Well?" Mr. Naughtypants said, his face bright with anticipation.
"Well," Marsha said. "What we need from you is…."
"What we demand from you is equal opportunity employment."
Mr. Stingycock looked confused.
"You see, when I ask Ellen to help me do spreadsheets on a Saturday, naked, she receives full compensation. Anything less is illegal."
"It's only fair Mr. Bigcock."
I pushed Mr. Bigcock into a large leather chair and unknotted his tie, pulling it loose from his neck with a swift tug. I tied his hands behind his back and rolled him to the end of the table so he'd have a great view of the action.
"Mr. Bigcock. That's what we call you. We think you're hot. Animal hot. But you're stingy with that thing and we're not taking it any more. It's not nice to tease the girls."
"We're not showgirls," Marsha piped up. "We're not circus performers."
Ellen straddled Mr. Bigcock and squirmed in his lap. "Oh sweet dirty office sex," she cooed. "You really don't know what we're capable of, do you?"
"Now ladies," Mr. Irving said in his top exec tone. "Ladies please, you have the wrong idea."
"Shhhhh now Mr. Bigcock," Ellen said, unbuttoning his shirt and planting wet kisses up and down his neck. "We're going to show you exactly what we mean by equal opportunity."
Marsha unzipped my skirt while Ellen tugged my suit jacket off and unbuttoned my blouse. Mr. Bigcock turned the color of a stiletto stabbed tomato as I circled around him, feeling admittedly hot in black & pink French lace adorned lingerie. I tightened the harness and got that cock ready for action.
"Damn," he said again and again. "Damn, damn, hot fucking damn."
Marsha lifted her dress as Ellen lifted her skirt. They flung their shirts across a chair and sat spread-legged in matching black lace thongs at the edge of the table, their soft white skin like marble against the black glassy surface. I rolled Mr. Bigcock to the table corner for an even better view. He strained against his tied wrists as I gently parted Marsha's pink mound and teased her cunt with my tongue. Ellen nibbled at Marsha's ears and ran her fingers through her long red hair while Marsha fondled my breasts. What a team!
Mr. Bigcock now had a bulge in his pants the size of Manhattan. He twisted and moaned, his legs jerking around like he was being shocked.
"Quiet Mr. Greedypants or I'll be forced to gag you," Ellen warned him.
I pulled Ellen from the table and wrapped my arms around her front, sliding my cock between her legs and fondling her tits, her nipples hardening to my touch. "Does that feel good baby? You want my cock honey? Do you?"
"Should I Mr. Bigcock?" Ellen whispered. "Should I let her fuck me? Should I let a girl stick her dick in me? When there's a perfectly good man cock I could have? And right here in the board room? Right in front of you? Oh fuck yes!"
I slid my fingers deep into her pussy – oh my God, she was so wet and warm and ready. I slid my cock in and began pumping away. Mr. Bigcock looked like a trauma victim, sweat pouring from his forehead, his eyes dilated, explosion after explosion not happening in his pants, the buildup nearly sending him into cardiac arrest. It was fucking awesome. Ellen pulled Marsha from the table and slapped her ass hard. She finger fucked her like an animal and kissed her passionately as I banged away.
"Fuck me Andrea! Your cock feels so good. Oh yes!"
"Yes!" we all sang in unison, a chorus of angels. "Yes! Fuck yes!"
In the morning, my first email of the day was from Mr. Bigcock Naughtypants. It was a shot under his desk – a money shot worthy of Penthouse. Finally, equal opportunity employment. Some things really are worth fighting for
Monday, September 22, 2008
I only fantasized about you 40 times last night!
40. Fucking you from behind while you and your girlfriend are in a 69!
39. Watching four women pleasure your tits and sweet cunt!
38. Watching you suck four guys off one by one!
37. Massaging and sucking on your tits until you cum!
36. An all-nighter of fucking and sucking with you and a high priced call girl!
35. The two of us fucking on top of a bar while it's open!
34. Going to the AVN Awards and watching you suck Evan Stone's dick on stage!
33. Shy Love joins in!
32. I join in!
31. Fucking like animals at a swingers party!
30. Watching you get double penetrated by two studs on a king sized bed!
29. You sucking my throbbing cock under the table of a fancy restaurant!
28. The both of us jerking each other off in a public hot tub!
27. Eating your pussy in a hot sauna!
26. All of my buddies treating you to a gang bang!
25. Tying you up and letting two women tease and seduce you!
24. Fucking your oily tits!
23. Slowly fucking your tight ass!
22. You tying me to a bed while you and Trinity give me a double blowjob!
21. Watching a stripper give you a lap dance while you jerk me off!
20. Taking that same stripper home and watching the two of you have strap-on sex!
19. You riding my cock while the stripper fucks your ass!
18. Becoming members of the mile high club!
17. You sucking me off while I'm driving a car!
16. Watching you strip at amateur night!
15. Making love under a waterfall in Hawaii!
14. Doing it doggy style in a display window at Macy's!
13. Fucking on the kitchen counter!
12. Being videotaped while we go at it like pornstars!
11. Watching you masturbate through the bedroom window!
10. Joining you!
9. Taking you to a deserted parking lot and banging your brains out!
8. Fucking you on the balcony of a high rise hotel suite!
7. Having an oil wrestling match and letting you win!
6. Watching you and your girlfriends have an oil wrestling match!
5. Having sex on a pool table with two guys!
4. You giving me a handjob on a crowded dance floor!
3. Treating you to a body massage with a happy ending!
2. Slapping your ass with a love paddle while I give it to you from behind!
1. Making this list a reality!
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Ellen looked at me hopefully. "Well? When do we shop?"
"Tonight. Six O-clock."
Freudian Slip, a boutique lingerie store in an old Victorian on the east side, wasn't the most obvious choice for she-cock shopping but it was definitely the most discreet – and fun. The place was filled with fluff and naughtiness….but we were only there for some of the lower level offerings. The real treasures were upstairs. Up a creaky set of wooden stairs, beyond the frill and lace of corsets and bustiers, fine brassieres, stockings, stilettos, and an enormous antique buffet stocked to overflowing with all manner of panties, was Freudian Slit, the toy & bondage attic.
Half of the attic space was remodeled into an outrageous gothic boudoir, complete with an ornately carved bondage bed. The other half of the attic was filled with shelves of toys -- everything from lube to dildos to dancing rabbits.
"Try on anything you'd like," the shop manager said, serving us with a smile. "Sylvia here is an amazing dom and does my demos – let her know if you'd like to see anything in action or need help with a fitting."
Sylvia looked ordinary enough. But I imagined that there was probably plenty of extra-ordinary beneath her tidy blond ponytail, fringed western-style top, jean skirt and hooker-heeled black leather cowboy boots embroidered with red pistols.
"Ladies – have your way and let me know when you're ready to give something a go," Sylvia grinned, fluttering her long lashes curled over exotic smokily lined eyes and gold frosted eyelids, then turning and going back to where she'd left off when we stormed the place -- straightening the leashes.
I felt an overwhelming urge to give away all of my worldly possessions, join the convent of sin, and become Sylvia's slave.
Our little group scattered and spread out as we giggled and touched our way through the store. I made my way to a row of harnesses and chains. What would Mr. Naughtypants be most tortured by?
Marsha sidled up beside me. "This one," she said, reading my mind and pulling a crotchless beauty, the "Translucent Wonder" from its hook. The white belt with silver rivets perfectly complimented the clear under part. The matching colorless cock was the perfect size to be worn discreetly beneath the pleated skirt of my tailored wool business suit.
"Well?" Marsha said, running her hands up and down the perky toy penis. "Let's give it a spin. Better yet, ask Sylvia to show us how to use it."
I took Sylvia aside and explained our "situation" with Mr. Bigcock.
"Oh, yes – I specialize in torture," Sylvia said. "You wouldn't believe how many clients of ours ask for help with the office bullies. Follow me ladies."
Ellen and Marsha fanned themselves with their hands as we followed Sylvia's swaying ass to the other side of the room. She opened a small cupboard near the bondage bed and pulled out a black yoga mat, unrolling it onto the glossy wooden floor.
Sylvia turned and faced us, her legs spread slightly, as if she was about to give a fitness seminar.
"The most important thing to remember is that you are as beautiful and as powerful as you want to be. It's all up to you. Confidence is key. Once you have that, it's all about the power and the pleasure."
Pulling her hair loose, Sylvia shook her head, blond waves unfolding onto her shoulders. She nodded at Marsha. "I need an assistant."
Marsha blushed wildly, but stepped forward. "This is a bit nuts," she said. "I've never done anything like this before, but what the hell."
"There's nothing to be shy or ashamed of ladies – we're just having some fun and learning about some new toys. Relax!"
Sylvia slowly unsnapped her blouse and unzipped her skirt, slipping free of both with what looked like one fluid belly dance type of movement – a swing of the hips and twist of the shoulders and voila! Wow. What emerged from inside of the urban cowgirl getup was a hottie in nothing but a sexy red leather shelf bra and matching French cut thong that perfectly matched her red boot embroidery.
"Now my lovely assistant, you can help me strap-on & then we'll switch."
Marsha's fingers shook a little as she buckled the harness around Sylvia's naked hips. "Perfect. Now slip this condom onto the dildo and feel me up with your hands. Go ahead. Rub it. It won't bite, but you can bite him. Doesn't that feel good?"
We all stood there in awe as sweet little Marsha crossed to the other side and took Sylvia's strap-on into her perfectly manicured hands. Little beads of sweat formed on her upper lip and she giggled a little as she felt up that shiny cock, her confidence building. She ran her hands up and down it for a long time, then lightly placed one hand on Sylvia's thonged ass and moved in a little closer.
"Yummy. Feels good in my hands."
Sylvia reached into the cupboard again and pulled out a bottle of lube. "This water based Juicy Lube is perfect for toys and it smells nice but doesn't have any sugar so it won't get sticky. Hold out your hand."
She pumped a couple of squirts into Marsha's open palm and thrust her hips forward.
"Get me wet. Start at my bottom and work your way up."
"Yes, my bottom. Between my legs. Under my dick."
Marsha slid her lubed palm between Sylvia's legs as Sylvia tilted her head back and sighed. "Doesn't it feel good to feel yourself for a moment before you feel him?" she asked in a low voice.
Oh my God, this was insane. It was like naughty pampered chef – all of us gathered around for a live demo. I wanted to ask if the dildo doubled as a batter whisk and whether it came with a matching bowl set.
Sylvia pushed her hands up under Marsha's blouse, fondling her boobs as Marsha continued her lube job, making her way from Sylvia's wet cunt to the tip of the cock, Marsha's small fingers exploring every ridged inch of it.
Ellen leaned in close and whispered, "Just look at her -- at them! This is so hot – I didn't think….."
"Your turn hotness," Sylvia announced suddenly. "Your turn to get those hips moving."
She removed the harness as Marsha, as if in a trance, pulled down her jeans and removed blouse. Sylvia buckled her in and Marsha did a little cock dance, spinning around as the dick bounced with her movements.
"What do you think girls? Grrrowl!"
We were speechless.
Sylvia slipped a new rubber onto the toy and wasted no time getting Marsha ready for action, gliding her lubed hands between Marsha's legs and her own.
I couldn't help but notice the shine of wetness sliding down Marsha's inner thighs as the scent of warm vanilla and rubber rose in the room.
"Now put your hands on your hips pretty Miss and thrust your hips like this."
Sylvia demonstrated, pushing her hips front and back with strong, masculine movements.
"Hold the cock in your hand when you can do it so you can feel your rhythm."
Sylvia took that beautiful wet Johnson in her hand and went at it.
"Oh yeah!" Sylvia said, clapping and turning to the studio audience, throwing us a thumbs-up sign. "Nice! Pump it, there you go. Oh yeah girl! Jack that thing off!"
Sylvia's reddish brown hair flipped across her face as she thrust harder and harder, one hand gripping the lubed cock as she pumped. "Yee-haw baby," she yelled out.
Sweet little Marsha. Holy mother of sexual prowess. Look at her go.
"Ready to test drive?"
Marsha looked at us as if we could answer for her. Our eyes must have said "fuck yes!" because she turned to Sylvia and said confidently, "Ready for action."
With Sylvia on all fours, her creamy white ass swaying a little, Marsha went to her knees and slowly and carefully eased the cock into Sylvia's well-trained cunt as if she was parallel parking during driver's ed class.
"Nice honey, very nice, but you don't have to be so careful. Move those hips. There you go. Get in the groove. Oh yeah. Nice. Thrust, thrust, thrust. You got it. Now reach around and finger my clit, feel it? Here, just like you'd like it. Just tease it lightly with your fingertips, now harder. Fuck yeah baby. Oh yeah."
God damn! Did I just touch myself? Quick! Somebody bring me a vibrator!
Sylvia's tits bounced atop her leather bra as Marsha pumped away. Marsha now had her hands now firmly on Sylvia's hips, grinding like she'd been fucking chicks all her life. They were actually fucking. Right here in the gothic boudoir. On the floor. On a yoga mat. While we watched. Time seemed to slow down as Marsha thrust the shiny cock in and out, in and out, her eyes closed, concentrating on her rhythm. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I was twisting in my jeans, my body a puddle of goo as they went at it.
I felt somewhat relieved when Sylvia reared up with a loud moan, twisting her erect nipples between red-tipped fingers.
"Fuck me harder baby. You're making me cum – right there, right there. Oh yeah honey. Just like that. Fuck yes! Yes! Yes!"
Oh, Mr. Bigcock wouldn't even know what hit him.
Monday, September 15, 2008
A hot threesome featuring the beautiful and sexy Angel Dark!
Angel Dark is a super-hot, European sex starlet who has one of the most spectacularly beautiful faces and bodies ever to grace the porn scene! Her relatively tall 5’9” frame boasts a gorgeous, all-natural physique with stunning breasts that are truly captivating. Working your way down her body, her wonderful, curvaceous ass is definitely another high point for this lean sex kitten. Early in her carnal career, Angel worked through scenes with an unconvincing approach, possibly trying to get by on just her good looks. She soon switched gears and started getting into her performances. By 2004, she was releasing many scorching scenes with a never-say-no attitude. She has appeared in over 75 hardcore titles currently. Angel is an unbelievably hot strumpet that every porn fan should make a point to check out. Appearing in nearly every kind of hardcore scene from orgies to anal to girl on girl action to solo scenes, she offers something that every fan will enjoy. -AEBN
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
And the Hottie of the Week is:
French fetish model Mina.
Who else but a chic French chick would be a multilingual horsewoman and classical dancer and hot fetish model? Her lover, as she mentions below, is a "rubber designer." Well! That would put the xxx in the sex!
Check out her blog and her own page at chickipedia.
Mina's bio is just as fascinating as her photos, well, maybe not, but it is good reading.
All about Mina, by Mina
Born in 1982, I grown in the warm and cool south of France's atmosphere, rocked by my father's italian origins and my mother's spanish ones. I lived a quite normal and very wise childhood. I did a lot of sports : 3 years in a horse riding school, 10 years of classical dancing before to stop when I became a teenager. I decided to quit because the ballet institution was too classical and straight for me. I went to the high school focused on the literary way, studying french literature, philosophy and three foreign languages (english, spanish, italian).
After getting my high school diploma, I felt involved in human beings and more particularly by their health. That's the reason why I wanted to be a nurse, studying in a medical school for one year. Unfortunately, I wasn't strong enough to endure the dark clouds of diseases and death : I was used to cry coming back at home, I was so sad that I decided to break for a while.
Meantime, my life changed when I met Sylvain Coeur-Jolly, the man I love since 2001. By chance, we discovered the fetish universe : sex shops, funny parties, amazing people. We walk along together as a couple but also individually : Sylvain is a rubber designer and I became a fetish model. It gives me the opportunity to share my taste for kinky stuff and I really love this.
I never loved my body and I couldn't imagine modeling. However, I met two french photographers during a fetish party : Robert Chouraqui and Eric Martin who were the first to shoot me. They gave me my chance and I really enjoyed this experience. From this time, I am really addict to photo studios : I did more and more shootings, exploring my fetishes, wearing beautiful clothes and shoes, meeting some crazy and open-minded people.
Step by step, I discovered who I am and what I need : eccentric lifestyle, funny and sexy games revealing my secrets. I deeply love corset, latex, nylon and, last but not least, I adore extreme high heels. Bondage is my ultimate fantasy : I really enjoy being strictly tied. Like a lot of dancers, my body is trained to suffer and I am really comfortable with restraint. That's so exciting and entertaining!
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
My first email of the day was from Mr. Bigshot Naughtypants. "Send me a shot under your desk."
I texted him a cell pic of the tangle of dusty wires down there. Under my desk.
He pouted hopefully when I delivered a report. On my way out, I dropped a pencil. "Oops," I said, turning sideways and bending over to retrieve it, showing off my ass to his polished cherry bookshelf. "Clumsy me."
Then I couldn't stop thinking about Mr. Bigcock under his desk. I spread my legs and held my cell there, capturing the lacy pink satin bowed light particles gartering for attention. "Send."
When Mr. Naughtypants flipped me a message to report immediately for an unscheduled noon meeting, I simply had to decline. "Booked, checking schedule," I replied.
In the ladies room after lunch with the girls, I posed in the stall for a quick pic of my sticky skully bum. "Sorry. Booked all day. Any openings tomorrow?"
Oh, Mr. Bighead was pissed for days after that. Not my boss. Not my problem. He asked for a shot & that's what I gave him. He wasn't my type anyway and just knowing that he'd seen my pink satin and wanted more. That was enough. Should have been enough.
The next week, during the quarterly executive assistant leadership gathering to address the redesign of the employee break room & fitness center rules and operations manual, our all-female team determined that it would be most productive to fuck all the bullshit and focus instead on the next chick's night out. The estrogen levels in the room rose to radioactive levels and things got a bit out of hand.
The gamma rays and girl talk must have gone to my head and somehow it just slipped out about Mr. Naughtypants and his greedy libido. Marsha fumed. "Bastard! He asked me for titty pictures and tried to get me to come in on a Saturday to work on his spreadsheets."
Lisa was doubly steamed. "I did come in on Saturday to work on his spreadsheets."
"Well?" I pressed.
"Nothing. Fucker just wanted to watch me work naked."
"He needs to be taught a lesson, that Mr. Stingydick."
"He's so handsome and sexy in his expensive silk suits, too. He's got charisma. What's his deal?"
"Maybe he's afraid of us."
Ellen laid down the whip.
"I think he needs to feel the power on the other side of the desk. Hey Andrea -- dare you to wear a strap-on to the vice president's meeting and give him a little bump."
I was feeling catty, but really! Wear a strap-on to the veeps meeting? Hello Kitty! Going a bit far, dontya think?
"Why don't you sport a knobby there Ellen? Your idea."
"Because I have to run the equipment – I'm the powerpoint mistress, miss garter belt & stockings under-the-desk photo queen."
I looked around the room and felt a bit woozy. All the pretty girls were looking at me so sweetly and pertly, their lips saying, "Please! It will be fun! It's up to you to give us something to put some color and flash into this little shit brown cubicle of a life."
"Maybe. We'll have to practice. I'm not going in cold. And we'll also have to go shopping. I have the perfect outfit – just need to find the right dildo for the skirt – it needs to be flexible and not too big – can't go walking into the boardroom with an elephant trunk between my legs."
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Another hot one cooked up by up and coming erotic author Kirsten Monroe!
Tapped out. That's what I was. It was a slow night at the bar. I'd been pulling the tap all night for the beer belly crowd, not even doing any mixing. I guess I was a little bored from the monotony, which made me antsy for some action, jittery for some kink, if you know what I mean. My mind had long since slipped into the gutter.
I went to re-stock the beer fridge and imagined myself splayed out in the walk-in cooler, my ass propped up on a case of Corona, my back resting on a 50-pound sack of roasted peanuts. After all, crazy things can happen after closing, when the bar goes dark, when one or two tipsy customers hesitate by the door, looking back at you with liquor-glazed eyes and lustful smiles as the sign is flipped. Open. Closed. By the time I snapped out of it, I'd concocted a full-on orgy in the cooler, party ice and peanuts and beer everywhere. "Liz honey, you're a naughtly little pervert," I reprimanded myself, shaking myself loose from la-la-land and forcing myself back to work.
I wiped the bar and tried to hold off the dirty thoughts while lazily watching NASCAR on the big screen across the room when Cinnamon sashayed over in her sexy way with an order. "Five pints of baby piss for the fur balls in the corner." She blew me a kiss.
"This place is dead tonight," I said, draining the piss keg for the millionth time. "It's Wednesday night! What gives? It's Hump Day, people! Hump Day!"
The beach town pub was popular with servicemen and locals. It wasn't a roughneck sort of place, but it wasn't for penny loafers either.
Cinnamon pulled a curl of her namesake colored hair onto her middle finger and twirled it tightly. She had blue velvet eyes and peach creamy skin. She dressed like a wild orchid and I swear, she never wore the same thing twice. Tonight it was a low-cut gold silk baby doll dress with princess sleeves. She wore a shimmering choker made of sea glass around her dainty neck, her hair done up and held in place with pearl-tipped pins and long-handled bar spoons. Somehow she could pull the "sea bitch" look off with grace. Cinnamon the sexpot pub siren. Say that ten times fast.
"Maybe it's the weather," she said. "All of our friends in uniform are in their bunkers, watching porn and eating chili in a can."
Cinnamon winked and plucked a cherry from my tray. She tossed it into the air, caught it by the stem in her lips, twirled it once and dangled it from her tongue. "You know Liz, three drops of your hot juice in that Buttcrack Light – a little bar wench voodoo – could transform that table of hosers over there into a horny platoon of marines in ten seconds flat. Drip of yours and a drop of mine – let's see who's got the muff mojo."
"Dirty girl," I said. "You would, too."
Muff mojo indeed. One day bartender Dave, the tender before my shift said, "You wouldn't believe how many girls are willing to blow me for a freebie."
"Oh yeah," I said. "Well, I mix 'em weak, charge 'em double, and they still tip me big for a two-minute walk on the dark side of the moon. See you tomorrow Davy Crotchless."
Liar. The truth was, I was jealous. Of course I'd never had a guy eating me out under the bar. I actually ducked my head and looked around down there after Davy Dick left. Where would you put an entire woman under here? Just her head maybe, or her boobs, but not the whole girl, not completely hidden from view.
Dave was probably pulling my chain. But it sure sounded like fun. Cinnamon agreed. Sure sounded like fun. Anyway, it didn't matter tonight. We were in the dead zone. I tucked the bar towel into the waist of my grey and red plaid miniskirt and sighed.
"Nice touch!" Cinnamon said, settling the foamy pints onto her tray. "Love the name patch."
"Thanks Cin," I said, running my fingers over the red and white patch. It was a new addition to my hump day uniform, my favorite schoolgirl mini with shiny black motorcycle boots, a black half-shirt and short black denim jacket. I'd recently added a grease monkey patch and had it embroidered with my bartender name: Billy Bob.
The neon bar signs flickered outside in on the windows and a light rain spattered against the glass. Bada Bing! Drink. On Tap. Bud Light. Open.
The Budweiser dorks checked out and we only had a half hour to closing when Cinnamon walked up behind me slipped a hand under my skirt.
"Holy shit Billy Bob!" she shrieked. "I was grabbing for a handful of ruffles. You're as naked and wet as the olive in a dirty martini."
"Whoa! Cin!" I jumped as she reached in again and grabbed my ass, squeezing hard. "Commando is part of the uniform. I'm ever hopeful, you know."
"Well, now I'm hopeful too. Nice hot box Billy," she giggled.
Cin pinched my cheek and straightened her silk, both of us blushing a little.
I re-stocked the bar, slipping back into my walk-in cooler orgy fantasy while Cin wiped tables. When she returned she slid her hand down my black bobbed hair and whispered into my ear. "You have a wild imagination Billy. I could see the skank in your smirk from across the room."
Cinnamon pressed close and slowly, and ran one hand down my leg, the silk of her dress teasing against my skin. She lowered herself down, twisting atop her strappy gold heels and winding around my leg as if it were a pole. I leaned against the bar and closed my eyes. Cinnamon placed her ass directly atop my right boot, straddling my ankle. I shuddered, instantly wet as she glazed my inner thighs with her tongue and pressed a handful of soft curls against the lower part of my ass. Sometimes reality is better than fantasy.
Cinnamon's reached up and under my shirt and got within a fingertip's reach of my aching nipples when the door jangled open.
"Shit, I forgot to turn the sign and lock the door. Be still," I hissed, pulling her hands down."
Holy fuck. Our ship had arrived. He was dressed in civilian clothes, but he had the look of a Navy man. There would be no tap tugging for this sailor. His face was wet with raindrops, his skin reddened from the unseasonably cool wind. What this boy needed was his ration of rum.
"Captain, Oh Captain," I whispered.
The young stud wore faded 501s and an old leather jacket. He tugged down the zipper as he walked in and looked around. He pulled off his jacket and hung it on the hook next to the door. He straightened the hem of his tight black t-shirt, put his hands in his pockets, and walked slowly up to the bar.
"Glad somebody's still awake in this town."
"Hi there handsome," I smiled. "What's your pleasure this fine wet night?"
"You have Guinness on cask?"
"Pint of Guinness and a shot of Bushmills."
I felt weak in the knees.
"On the double," I said, sparks flying off my bare ass. I turned to pull a glass from the shelf, forgetting about the Siamese twin attached to my thigh. I lurched forward, nearly falling on my face.
Sailor boy leaned slightly over the bar and glanced down, his face spreading into a wide grin.
A pair of long legs and angles strapped into gold heels were clearly visible stretched out below the bar.
"Well, looks like I'm not too late for happy hour."
Cinnamon untangled herself from my boot stood up, seriously blushing. She silently washed her hands and adjusted a hair pin.
"Oh, but you are too late sweetness," she said without skipping a beat. "Much too late. Happy hour ended at six. Fortunately for you, fucking ecstatic hour started five minutes ago….and drinks, darts and pool are on the house."
I shot her a look, but there was no stopping her now. She turned the door sign, flipped the lights and unplugged all of the neon lights except for "Bada Bing!" Red ropes of light buzzed across the room.
I handed our man in white his pint and shot. "What's your name sailor?"
He slammed the whiskey and sipped at his beer, licking foam from his upper lip. "My name's Damian," but what makes you think I'm a sailor."
"Well," I winked, "you look seaworthy."
"That I am. But I'm not Navy. I own a dive shop and volunteer with the Coast Guard rescue dive team."
Cinnamon didn't waste any time. "Billy Bob and I were just talking about shooting some pool. Care to join us?"
In the half-light we chalked our sticks, sexual tension building in the half-light.
Damian racked the balls and took the first shot, his hard, lean face and high cheekbones starkly outlined by light and shadow. The electrical storm between my legs was making me high. When it was my turn to shoot, Cinnamon made her move, licking the base of my bare ass cheeks when I bent over. "Thanks Cinnamon," I said coolly. "It always helps me concentrate when you do that."
I hit the shot dead-on, closed my eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. "Yes!"
Damian was obviously rattled, missing the next few shots.
"Concentrate baby," Cinnamon told him, pushing her stick between his legs and grinning devilishly.
Spinning around, Damian took Cinnamon by the shoulders and pulled her hair loose. It fell in thick waves down her shoulders. In one swift movement he picked her up and set her on the edge of the pool table. Gold silk pooled around her waist. He spread her legs and pressed himself between them, rubbing her breasts wit his hands through the thin fabric. He nibbled at her ear and pressed a handful of her hair into his face. Taking my hand, he pulled me into the triangle, tugging my jacket loose and lifting my t-shirt over my head. I stood there quivering, bare-assed and naked from the waist up in my skirt and boots. "Breathe Liz, breathe," I told myself.
"So Billy Bob, what do you do to help Cinnamon with her game?" Damian growled. He pushed down on my shoulders and spread Cin's legs wider.
"Sometimes I give her a quick kick in the ass and tell her to pull it together. Other times I do this."
I bent down, nuzzling Cin's damp thighs with my lips and pulling her sparkling black ruffled rumba tanka panties down to her ankles. I took her into my mouth and fingered her clit, pressing my tongue deep into her wet folds. Entering her that way was like stepping barefoot into a sun-warmed tidepool on a summer afternoon. Cin moaned, the space between her legs quivering and alive beneath my hungry mouth. Hot juice dripped down my thighs as Damian placed his hands on my hips. I turned and unbuckled his belt, sucking in air as I felt Cinnamon's hands on my bare breasts, twisting my nipples hard and biting gently at my back.
"Fucking amazing," Damian sighed as his jeans dropped to the floor and I tugged his boxers down, his cock hot and dripping when I released it, cradling it against my stomach for a moment before turning back to Cin's needy cunt.
"Cinnamon, you hot, hot girl," I said, pulling her lips wide and pressing four fingers deep inside. She arched her back and pressed her heels into the edge of the table, arms outstretched, gripping the side pockets.
Damian pressed his mast between my legs and I braced for it when I felt him pull back.
"Hold it there Billy Bob," I'm not letting you have all the fun."
He turned and picked me up, holding me sideways in his strong arms, his cock hot and hard pressing into the small of my back. He leaned in and he sucked gently on my tits, licking in slow circular motions, his stubble a good hurt against my soft skin. He set me down next to Cinnamon and pulled her back to sitting, tugging her dress down to release her large firm breasts, glowing white and soft.
Our moans, the buzz of neon, and the occasional sound of wet tires on pavement echoed through the pub, lit only by red flashes and streetlamps.
Damian pulled himself into one hand, stroking his hard purple-pink cock while going down on both of us, back and forth, careful to give us equal time. Cin and I leaned back on our hands, our legs spread wide, both moaning loudly, not holding back. I took Cinnamon's soft mouth in mine, sinking into her soft, full lips. She tasted like spearmint gum and cranberry juice and smelled like warm sand. We made out wildly as Damian got us off with animal-like stamina, a tangle of tongues and hands, lips, and breasts as wave after wave of intense orgasmic pleasure crashed over us.
Damian's tongue flicked hard again and again across my clit. I yelled out, my voice raw and low in my throat. "Fuck me, oh God Damian, fuck me." A bolt of lightning streaked across my mound as Damian hit my g-spot with cruel deliberation, Cinnamon's tongue tying my pleasure center in knots from the top down. "Fuck yes! Oh yes!"
Sprawled out on the table, I moaned uncontrollably and vibrated with the pleasure of a double orgasm. Still shaking, I forced myself to recover quickly, straddling Cinnamon to tease her breasts in my mouth as Damian went down on her, giving her the same attention he gave me, sucking her clit, reaching for her g-spot, tossing her high into the air, breathing fire between her legs and dousing her with pleasure.
Cinnamon came hard, back arched, hips rocking, shuddering against my lips, her hands kneading my breasts.
"You are fucking amazing," Damian, "I said, lowering myself to his cock. I pressed his hard length deep into my throat, relaxed, opening myself fully to him, enjoying the salt-and-pepper taste of his pre-cum on my tongue.
I stood and motioned for him to lie atop the green felt. He slipped his ankles from his jeans and boxers and pulled his chest free of cotton.
"We'll start on top," Cinnamon cooed sensuously. "And work our way down."
We each took an ear, stroking and rubbing his entire body with our hands, slowly, ever so slowly slipping and sliding down Damian's hard body, every muscle contracted and twitching with desire. His cock jumped in our soft hands, his balls relaxing and constricting as we kissed and teased, stroked and rubbed, working as a team, slowing down when we sensed him reaching the edge, speeding up to increase the intensity.
Cinnamon took his long shaft in her hand, her fist lubed with her own juice. I took his head in my mouth, circling the throbbing velvet tip with my tongue, hungrily swallowing every drop as a steady stream of his hot sticky cum wet my lips.
"You're all ours baby," I whispered, wrapping my tongue around his head again and again, Cinnamon's fist stroking hard and fast, squeezing him ever harder.
"Tell us what you want. Tell us exactly what you want."
"It all feels so good," Damian moaned. "Lick my balls baby, I like that. Fuck me in the ass."
"You fucking got it stud," Cinnamon said, sliding from the table. She wet her thumb in her mouth and slid it slowly into his asshole while licking his balls.
His rod was stiff as driftwood, calling out for attention. I did what came naturally and straddled him in a reverse cowgirl, lowering myself onto him, fucking in rhythm with Cinnamon.
As if we'd unleashed the perfect storm, Damian jolted on the table, his hands on my breasts and neck, pulling at my hair wildly, his entire body straining against both of us. He moaned, twisted and shuddered. I could feel him reaching climax, his moans louder and louder, his voice deep and grinding. I pulled off of him quickly and gripped his slick length in my hands, stroking quickly, my grip firm and tight. His chest felt hard and good under my ass as he lifted his hips and exploded onto my tits and Cinnamon's upturned face, his cum glowing like fireworks in the neon red light streaking across the green. Time slowed down as I held him, felt him pulsing in my hand as he let loose, showering sparks of effervescence onto our glistening skin.
Bada bing! Bada bing!
We toasted with a nightcap at the bar, our bodies still warm and wet and sticky, the taste of satisfaction fresh on our lips.
Damian pulled on his jacket and hesitated at the door as Cin and I blew him dirty little kisses. "Goodnight girls," he said. "I'll see you again soon….at closing time."